#-> i know what *i* would have her do in that regard. but that's a secret. for now.

[archangeldyke-all]

Oh man I have ideas..

Sevika has a home back in Zaun but she has to have an apartment in Piltover because of councilor duties until she fully adjusts to topside and accepts the insistent offers of a manor. Imagine being her wife and just helping her relax after her first day, cuddling and all that whilst adjusting to the fancy apartment bigger than your old house.

Or..

Sevika taking her wife out for a walk in Piltover, admiring more of the garden as the plants grow upon new soil. A talk about the future whilst holding hands.

Or..

Them renewing their vows, having that damn fancy wedding of the dreams.

Toodles!!!

EEEEEEEEK okay lets do some councilor sevika (also isha and jinx are still alive in this story because i said so. she doesn't need to suffer so much to still be an incredible leader. give her her girls!!!)

men and minors dni

you were the first person approached about sevika representing zaun in piltover's new council post-war.

you were a little concerned to find councilwoman shoola and three members of her personal guard on your front stoop-- and for just a moment you had a flash of anxiety that she was here looking for jinx or isha.

"councilwoman. hello." you say, still surprised. you've met the woman a few times before, both of you attending various re-building efforts around the undercity. she holds up a hand.

"please, dear, we've built a bookshelf together, you've seen me at my lowest. you can call me shoola."

"h-how can i help you counc-- shoola?" you ask. she smiles.

"i'm here regarding your wife."

you frown. "...is she in some kind of trouble?" you ask, already mentally planning how to worm sevika out of her trouble. the councilwoman chuckles.

"quite the opposite, actually. i'd like her to join the council... as an ambassador to the free nation of zaun." she says.

you nearly shit yourself at her words-- sevika's life work casually mentioned like it's just a sidenote. "the-- free?" you ask.

she smiles. "while the deaths of the other councilmembers in the war was a horrible loss, there are some issues i could never get my late colleagues to agree on. now, though... i've been given full authority to reorient the power structure of the council to avoid anymore kirraman's taking over-- and i've always been of the belief that zaun should be free."

"and w-what... you want to arrest jinx in exchange for it?" you ask.

shoola chuckles. "no."

"y-you want isha?" you ask. shoola laughs again.

"what could i want with a child? no!"

"so... what do you want?" you ask, your voice shaking as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"i just want your help talking sevika into the job. i know she can be... stubbo--?"

"bullheaded?" you guess as shoola searches for a kind word to describe sevika's stubbornness. she chuckles at your description of your wife and nods.

"here." she hands you a stack of papers. "i've outlined the full responsibilities of the job. as well as the benefits she will receive for serving. please. look it over and talk to her, would you?"

you do.

it's an excellent proposal.

as the undercity figures out how it wants to self govern, piltover will fund zaun's public infrastructure as if it's their own-- meaning that the undercity will, practically overnight, have access to things like clean water. and schools. and welfare. they will provide these services for up to fifteen years as zaun finds it's footing.

the position outlined for sevika in piltover's council is a way to assure piltover doesn't back out of their promises-- that somebody is there to call them out when they try to cut corners in helping the young nation of zaun find it's footing.

and, while your wife might miss the more physical aspects of her old work, you can see her chewing out some stingy old councilors for their greed in your minds eye, and you can't help but smile.

"what're you smilin' about?" sevika asks.

you jump and slam the folder in front of you closed, blinking up at your wife.

she's back from her meeting with ran, scar and jericho. the four of them have grown close in these past few months as they coordinate rebuilding efforts for various neighborhoods across zaun. you have to gulp, trying not to get dizzy with the possibilities of what sevika's job offer means for them as a team. as team zaun.

"h-how was your meeting?" you ask. sevika raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you and you huff. she sinks across the table from you, easily pulling the folder out of your grasp.

"meeting was fine. the elementary school bein' built in firelight's territory is almost ready to open. first school in zaun." she says with a smile. "now, what were you smiling at?"

"i was approached by councilwoman shoola this afternoon."

sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "did you two try to build a chair this time?" she teases. you groan and kick her shin, before tapping the folder in her hands.

"no. i was asked to convince my stubborn-ass, incredibly loyal, strong, beautiful, hard-fucking-headed wife to join the fucking council."

sevika blinks. "what?"

"they want you in the new council. serving as an ambassador. to the free nation of zaun, sevika."

sevika blinks again, and then she rips the file open, her silver eyes flying across the confidential text. "the fr-- the free nation of zaun?" she asks, her eyes flying up to yours to confirm. you grin and nod.

sevika flies out of her seat and crawls across the dining room table to reach you, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kisses you like her life depends on it.

you're there when shoola and sevika finally sit down to discuss the opportunity. shoola's the first piltoverian to not turn her nose up at the messy state of your small home-- she even grins at the sound of jinx and isha bickering from their bedroom. "you two have made a lovely home for yourselves, here." she says, sitting down at the table and jumping a bit when a toy squeaks under her bum. "i can almost see the love leaking out of the wallpaper."

"could be black mold." you whisper. sevika and shoola both sputter surprised laughs.

"sevika. have you considered my proposal?" shoola asks.

sevika sighs and nods. "i have a few conditions before i agree." she says.

this surprises you. as if the prospect of representing a free zaun isn't tempting enough, you saw the salary sevika's being offered. it's the kind of money that could buy you a house big enough that all four of you could have your own bathrooms.

(secretly, though, you hope you live in a tiny house forever. you like tripping over your family-- being within reaching distance at all times.)

"first. i'd like you to assign me the budget to employ three of my trusted confidants as advisors. i can give you their identities if you'd like, but i give you my word that they're good peo--"

"done." shoola cuts sevika off, scribbling a quick note in her journal before looking back up at the pair of you with a smile. "what else?" she asks.

you smile a bit. sevika blinks, then gulps. "jinx and her little friend ekko get a full ride to the university up top. they're incredibly gifted, and with a little proper education they could advance zaun--"

"you don't have to convince me, i remember how the war went. without them, we'd all be dead. i can arrange that."

"i don't want to leave zaun. i can't represent these people if i'm not living here. i'll need a car to get--"

"would you like a personal vehicle or a driver each morning and evening?" shoola asks.

sevika blinks. "a-a driver." she says, a little shocked.

"anything else?" shoola asks.

sevika nods. "o-one last thing." she reaches over to grab your hand. you have no idea what she could possibly want beyond what she's asked for-- she's taken care of her friends, her family, and her transport.

"anything." shoola says. you think the woman might mean it.

sevika looks down at her lap and sighs. "we... we never really got married." she says. you blink, not at all understanding why she's telling the councilwoman this. "i mean... we had a party and we exchanged vows," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. you squeeze her hand and her eyes flick up to yours, before shyly darting away like you guys haven't been married for a decade now. like you guys don't have two kids together. "but we never... nobody gets married in zaun. 's expensive. the trip up to the justice is too far. and..." sevika gulps, her voice getting shaky as she looks back up at you. "and you're the reason i've fought so hard for our home in the first place." she whispers.

tears start to well up in your eyes and you let out a shaky laugh. "what, 're you proposing to me again?" you ask. sevika snorts and shakes her head before turning to shoola. the woman's drying her own tears.

"will you arrange to have us married? officially?"

"i'd be honored." shoola agrees.

the wedding is small and intimate, you and sevika, jinx and isha, vi, ran, scar, jericho, and shoola.

the councilwoman took you to a beautiful little garden a few blocks away from the council, and she married you, officially, as the sun set and your girls threw handfuls of confetti into the sky.

your whole party marches through the streets of piltover and back to zaun for the afterparty, councilwoman shoola laughing happily as you introduce her to the zaunite tradition of barcrawling.

each bar you enter, jericho happily announces that you and sevika have been freshly married. sevika, being the new spokeswoman of zaun, is quite the celebrity now. all of this is to say, you spend the night drinking many free drinks, hugging many drunk strangers, and kissing your wife on request about a thousand times.

it's the best night of your life.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

I once read a fic that had kind a similar/oposit situation

Where character A is in to BDSM and charcetr B thinks that has to do with Trauma

And character A is like yeah I have endured things no one should and it did brake me in ways i can barely put in to words and will most likely never move beyond and it has left me damaged BUT none of that has anything to do with the fact that I like it wenn people hurt me on my terms and frankly it is getting a bit insulting that you do not grant me the ability to know what I want

So like idk

But I propably would let Meg meet someone who is also super promiscous with no strings attatched

And she would come to the conclusion that obviously the other person is like that becasue of the same reasons ans she is

And eventually she makes an offhand comment about that other person obviously having hadto endure some shit and teh other person is realyl suprised becasue nope, they are not traumatized they had a pretty good live they just like doing things this way

Which would then force Meg to at least wonder if she would be like this regardless

Which can be something she chews at for a while, could be even a mini arc where she comes to the realization that while trauma has a hand in the way she goes about it, it isn't teh route cause, it's just how she prefers to do things

It might even be healing for her to realize that she is not broken in that regard ... just different

I dislike the inclusion of a lot of modern Queer Rep Terminology in spec fic (fantasy more than sci fi) on basically aesthetic grounds. But also on to be slightly more principled about it, I feel like forcing the writers to actually describe their characters' identities and sexualities without recourse to a labelled bucket they can just slap and say 'yknow, this!' would be very artistically fruitful.

[vigilskeep]

Do we know enough about how Crow succession and talonship works to believe it would be possible for Viago to take the seat of first talon either through some sort of non-violent coup in the absence of an heir to house Dellamorte or through marrying his kid (rook) off to Lucanis? Asking because I really don't know and would love to write something in that direction...and you seem a crow enthusiast...also love your blog

THEORETICALLY. yes.

we haven’t seen the talons shift directly, but they do shift, with regularity. house arainai was first talon in living memory and then fell slowly downwards to their current point where they’re struggling in and out of eight talon like a drowning man who keeps finding his way to air for just enough breath

the eight talons system, if you’ll allow me the tangent, is a really fascinating choice of fantasy hierarchy because it is such a clear hierarchy. among a bunch of ambitious killers whose prime goal is notoriety. you can only hold each position here if everyone below you is too afraid to do anything about it. what an anxiety trip it must be to decide whether to push someone down just one rung or to try to destroy them entirely; do you want to leave your rival with more opportunity or more motivation? but crow power is also all about theatre, all about perception—you are first or fifth or seventh talon primarily because everyone agrees that you are—so making a failed gambit for a higher talon has got to be incredibly damaging. which is a risky setup. it discourages attempts, but when someone does make an attempt, they will not be fucking around

anyway ignore all that we’re talking about soft takeovers today. okay so house dellamorte has a dying core family, theoretically. we’re making the assumption that no surviving young children from any branch of the family are mentioned because none exist. we have two heirs, neither very acceptable (my apologies to caterina’s delusions), both men in their 30s with (again, assumed) no children, and neither making much progress in that regard. (arguably dependent on player choice when it comes to lucanis, but since he can fall in love with and express his undying devotion to any kind of rook, we can at least say he’s not making that much effort.) within a generation the core family may die out. but that is a LONG TIME to wait. you still have to deal with the current ones, they’re pretty robust

lucanis is the current first talon as of the end of veilguard. can he be convinced to give this up and hand first talon over to someone better suited? i do believe it. mostly because i need to believe, for my mental health, that we can get him out of there. but he also now has a fairly bulky support system full of people who love him and will notice how bad this is going to be and convince him he deserves things like a life he doesn’t hate

as always your main problem is caterina. caterina is not going to allow a takeover, soft or otherwise, while she is still alive. caterina didn’t give up first talon when they murdered her children. there’s probably an emotional plot in here where she can be made to accept what she’s done to her family, far too late, but with time left to save just one by letting him go. on the other hand, i’ve also been experimenting with plots in my mind where she tries to quietly get rid of viago or romanced rook for having too much influence, with the added benefit on hopefully being able to steel & refocus lucanis on defending the house against whoever she frames. or plots where she blames lucanis trying to leave and not being the boy she remembers on his, you know, demonic possession, and attempts to forcibly remove or destroy spite. so. there’s potential ups and downs, here.

i don’t know how helpful rook de riva/lucanis is. most of your problem here is that everything that sets this ending up by giving the de rivas more power, and by giving any rook more power over lucanis, is something that in my mind would crank caterina’s wariness all the way up. house de riva surely has to move up from fifth already after the events of the game and look more like a contender, and i don’t think even caterina’s delusions about lucanis’ suitability for first talon could make her blind to the effect rook can obviously have. i definitely think she would delay on a marriage and have the power to do that

i think it’s worth saying that rook de riva at any point bringing up to lucanis the idea of handing things over to viago would be a hell of a conversation. i know lucanis never remotely suspects rook of any agenda and trusts them completely, and i know i agree with rook here, but you’ve GOT to see how “i love you and having power is bad for you and what you should do is hand it all over to my talon” sounds. i truly could not blame him for a bit of doubt here especially if caterina was around to suggest it

sorry this is a completely messy and disconnected response. i don’t even know if i had a point. you might have to wait for caterina to actually die? is that my point? i can see rook de riva/lucanis being helpful to ease a transition of power to house de riva then. i also think it’s worth pointing out that teia might be the better contender for all this out of the two lovebirds. what quietly makes teia probably the most dangerous talon in the crows, if she ever chose to be, is that everyone likes her. i’m not joking or trying to handwave crow politics, it’s a form of soft power and the result of her cultivated skill that nobody ever suspects teia of anything. even caterina treats her gently, and literally a talon who tried to murder all the others in tevinter nights was delaying murdering her because she was his favourite. if anyone can handle a gentler transition like what we’re talking about, maybe it’s more likely to be teia

[space-blue]

A true off my chest bit about Jinx

It's a little critical of the show, but not hate posting. Just my feelings regarding the handling of Jinx.

I just feel like Jinx's death shows the writers hand in a bad way.

To me act 1 sucks because it felt the most rushed and like it needed to pad and set some things in motions, and most importantly they needed to delay Jinx's suicidality.

By all accounts Jinx should have broken after Silco's death. She should have buried him in the Pilt, walked home, set the place on fire and killed herself.

Instead she needs to be delayed, and she needs to have a reason to be in Stillwater with a lot of Zaunites, so that Singed can do his hiring bid demo with Warwick and score a new employer in Embessa.

It's convoluted, but basically Jinx needs two things :

temporary sanity

a reason to completely blow up later on

And they do both via Isha, the worst character in the whole show as far as I'm concerned.

She's introduced in a bad music video that does a weird job of introducing "sane Jinx". Then she seems to immediately be part of the team, and her attachment to Jinx, with zero set up, made it super out of left field.

It was blatant that she was being set up as a mini Powder to calm Jinx down, and when she blows herself up it's not gratifying if you know she's just a crank/lever being used to flip Jinx into dark and depressed mode.

IMO this could have been handled better (and I'd change a lot of the Zaun situation in Act 1 alongside), but then could have still led to Jinx being "saved" by Ekko.

Instead, I feel like the writers, maybe pressed for time, maybe unwilling to keep the "loose canon" as she was in the new state of the world, chose to kill her off.

Her death is Vi's fault, and I can't help but feel it's manufactured.

I feel like the writers broke Jinx an extra time just to tilt her over the edge and have that emotional scene with Ekko, but then couldn't see how to "excuse her".

Like what she's done is too fucked up, too dark (even if Cait served the city to Noxus on a silver platter, gased zaun, and faced no consequences lol) and she can't be made to move on from the horrors of it all.

It feels like they didn't have the time or will to break the cycle for Jinx. But it feels bad. It feels like it was an "attempt at redemption" death.

WW was an arcane creature by then and they all fucked off with Viktor and Jayce. They could have chosen to keep him innactive. They could have had Vi going with Ekko and relying on him.

The one person who can truly believe in the good in her, because he's literally experienced it in another version of herself. The one guy who could tell her again and again that it's not HER, it's the way the world made things, and that this can change.

I don't see why shy away from that, even implied, especially after Ekko managed to pull her from the brink.

It feels like Jinx is a "too far gone" rabid dog better put down than left loose in their setting.

And I don't really vibe with that. I thought true redemption would be her living. Leading. Her and Ekko could work to better Zaun while Sevika safeguards their interests in the Council.

And Vi could have still cried over WW's body.

[not-rigel]

would you be interested in writing Sevika x (top) reader who is taller than her, stronger than her, and overall just larger than her and very masculine BUTTT is very submissive??? Kinda like a power bottom Sevika x sub top reader situation👀👀

uhhh YEA!!! hope i did your idea justice!

a little treat for arcane eve (i can expand more after arcane ends but i felt we needed a liiiitle enjoyment before losing our collective minds)

Set between s2 act 1 and 2

WC: 1.1k

Sevika honestly couldn't blame everyone for dropping ship when Silco decided to quit breathing. They have their own lives to lead. But the fact that you stayed stood out to her. When she sat in Silco’s office beaten and broken, you were the one that came to deliver the news and defend the Last Drop with her from the Chem Barons influence. You made grieving easier but the feeling was never gone. Sevika couldn’t talk about those things so most of the time she settled for drinking or flirting with you. Right now she decided on teasing you in her new office. 

“So, pipsqueak, what’ll you do if I can't fix this shitstorm?” 

You roll your eyes, you have no idea why she insists on giving you stupid nicknames, “Sevika, I could throw you across the room without even trying. Between the two of us, you’re the pipsqueak. And everything’ll be fine.”

“I argue that I can take you,” she says. Unbeknownst to you, she doesn’t mean in a fight. 

She's been attracted to you the very moment she saw you, back when Silco hired you on for muscle. She never made a move, for the sake of professionalism. Even after Silco’s death she held back, unsure how she’d emotionally handle a sexual entanglement. But she was getting better, now that weeks have passed and she changed her look. So she let herself consider making a move.

“Alright, and how many times have I held you back while you were on shimmer?” you challenged. 

“That’s in the past, pipsqueak. I'm talking now.” 

There’s that nickname again, “Fuck you, Sevika. You need to stop calling me that, please.” 

“Are you offering?” she quips back. 

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You said ‘fuck you’. I’m asking if you were offering to fuck me,” she clarifies.

You’re speechless. Sure, you’ve thought about Sevika in that way on several occasions but it was always just a thought. You thought about her, when she barked out orders to Silco’s goons. Or stared down at Enforcers, daring them to so much as lay a finger on her. She was always scarier than you in that regard, someone who could take real charge. It always excited you. You watch her now, for some sign that she was messing with you but you can’t find any.

“Not initially but… I’m offering now,” you say before hesitation can sink in. 

She smirks, standing from the sofa and walking over to the desk. You watch her open a drawer and pull out something you recognize. It’s her old choker, the one she wore before changing her appearance. You gulp as she approaches you. 

“What’s that for?” you asked. 

“It’s for you,” she explains. She fits the collar around your neck, adjusting the fit. You think it might be too loose but she slips a finger underneath and drags you to her by it. You let out a whimper as she pulls you by the choker to her lips. 

“You’re so strong, so tall, so fucking masc. It turns me on so fucking much,” she whispers against your lips. You could take control right now, she’s only exerting a small amount of force over you. Holding you in place by a choker, but you don’t resist her. 

She pulls the collar again, setting her lips right by your ear, “Been waiting for you to fuck me.”

Immediately you’re filled with nerves. You love to top but you’re not dominant, despite what your appearance might suggest. You want to fuck her and by all physical means you could manhandle her, but it never came naturally to you. 

“Can you… Tell me what to do? I really want you, I do,” you sigh. 

Sevika shivers. She’s never met anyone so perfect before. Sevika needs you to fuck her, but more than that she needed to boss you around. It always gave her the sweetest thrill. And to boss around someone physically stronger than her, to have you relent all the power to her? She could fall in love in a minute. 

“Would you submit for me? Let me boss you around? Tell you how I’ve dreamed about you fucking me?” She purrs into your ear. Her words are sweet drops of fire, licking your skin deliciously.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy, uneven breaths, “Yes. Fuck, I’d love it.” 

“You’re so strong and all I have to do to get you weak for me is pull you by your collar? You’re so precious,” she moans. 

“I like it when you boss people around. Made me so wet. I’d do anything you tell me to, please Sevika,” there was no holding it in now, the choker and her words eased you into subspace.

That’s how you find yourself knelt between her spread thighs while she sits with her ass perched on the edge of the sofa, shoving your head into her cunt. She doesn’t wait for you to find her clit, instead shifting her hips to move it below your lips. 

“Grab my hips,” she orders, needing you to manhandle her. Just to show that you could control her, but ultimately won’t. You grip her hips, and she shifts her thighs over your shoulders so you have to hold her weight up. You rest your elbows onto the sofa for support, and hold her hips in the air. Both of you were feeling a perfect rush, the sexual dynamic making you thrive like you never had before. 

Sevika groans hearing your sweet little whimpers as she begins to grind onto your face. You move to keep up with her grinding, trying to hold the suction you have on her clit. 

“Stick your tongue out, mouse,” she demands. She loves giving you nicknames to insinuate you’re small. You’re not little, and she loved that. Every time you convinced her to drop one nickname, she came up with another. It was a power trip for her. 

You flatten out your tongue so she can ride it, and you moan as her fluids spread over your face. She leaked onto your chin and you loved the sensation of being covered in her. Loved how she barks commands at you. 

“Shit, gonna cum on your handsome face,” she announces, knees bending to pull you closer. You keep your tongue still, letting her ride your face until you feel her thighs tremble. Her thighs squeeze your head as her hips stop their movement. You shove your tongue into her cunt, feeling her walls pulse around it. She cums loud and hard, juices leaking down your chin and neck. You shudder, feeling your own arousal drip from you. When her orgasm is over, she has you set her back onto the couch. 

“You’re not done, runt. Still need you inside of me,” she rasps. You’re alight with excitement for more of her demands, ready to beg for her all night long. 

[hauntedfictionland]

❝a storm to remember❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and the heir to the iron throne, you are sent to stormlands as your brother to Winterfell, to create allies when you are met with him. Aemond Targaryen, your childhood enemy.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of violence and threats, kissing, childhood friends to enemies to lovers trope, minor injuries and blood.

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: He is my guilty pleasure, man who serves face while doing the shittiest things ever aka killing. This is my first Aemond fic ever, so I hope it's not too bad, and I would love writing advices or tips in my asks or messages, so feel free to send any.

The winds were soothing, although getting heavier as Stormlands grew closer. Your one hand on the rope, and the other touching along your dragon's raspy and rather itchy skin. You sighed, as the thought of having to negotiate with Borris Baratheon, who didn't hold a single regard for your mother or any woman for that matter.

You remember your mother's words; no fighting. No bloodshed. It had made you feel strange, as though there could be a need for it. You bit your lip as the dark castle came into view, with dark clouds forming already. You did not have a good feeling about this. But you couldn't disappoint your mother either, as the heir no less. You had to fight for your birthright, which Aegon took.

A strain coming to your head at the tactics of your dragon, who wanted to fly into circles as you had taught her. She wanted to have fun, not knowing this might be the most crucial occasion of your life. When you tried calling out to her, telling her to get down to some place where you could land, she refused. She was being erratic. With a few attempts at pulling the rope, she finally complied.

“Lykiri, Tessarion.” you say, as your dragon flies lower to the ground, to make a decent landing. You smiled as she grunted, in some annoyance. She always was stubborn, and it took some time to command her.

You wondered how much time it would take Jace to reach Winterfell, a part of you was envious. You wanted to be the one to see the North, yet he was the one who got to truly see it. ‘Borros was harder to convince’, as your mother said, how she needed someone with experience in that area. How it was your job as the eldest. Sometimes you felt it was a burden rather than a privilege, being heir to the iron throne. You don't know if you even deserve it, considering who your father is; your blood father. Laenor will always be your only father to you, the one who taught you how to sit on a dragon, or the great sea snake stories.

Hate, was what you used to feel when those rumours started reaching your ears. Of your parentage. Of your mother's king's guard, ser Harwin Strong. You did whatever you could to get away from those, from him. You didn't like it, he acted much closer to your mother than a mere guard should. And jace and luke being young, didn't see it as a problem. Even looked up to him. But you didn't. You felt so humiliated, that such low born could be your father, you—the heir, you, ser Laenor's true born daughter, as you tried convincing yourself again and again.

You didn't want to be a mutt, a bastard.

Harwin Strong tried connecting with you on many levels, but you denied all of them. You didn't even want to be near him, let alone speak with him. Flaunting your power and acting very rudely whenever he wanted to make conversation. You still remember the sadness in his eyes, as you told your king's guard to take him out of your sight. A filth, you called him. All out of insecurity.

That was the last time you saw him.

And now, all you had was Jacaerys's fond memories of him, nothing more. You wonder if you had cared to hear him out even once, what would he have said?

Shaking off the terrifying thought, you open your locks on the belt on your waist, slowly getting down. The storm had prevailed, with rain pouring down your black and red polish coat. You squint your eyes, trying to see better amidst the heavy rainfall. Tessarion let out a wail of joy, she loved rain. Given her so very nickname, the blue queen. After her blue scales and orange wings. That's when you heard a growl, a heavy one. That could only come out of a large dragon.

Your eyes widened, seeing the sight of that dragon.

Vhagar.

Which could only mean he was here.

“A letter from the queen.” you say, hesitantly as still processing the fact who you were to face very soon. The men guarding the castle nodded, letting you in. It felt like a dark cloud over you, as you entered. The black walls and steel throne, with Lord Borros sitting quite comfortably. You knew he was there, swiftly standing with a smirk, you didn't even want to face him.

“Princess Y/N Velaryon” one of the guards announced, “daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

You gulp, “Lord Borros, I have brought you a message.” you make sure to add, “from the queen.” he raises his eyebrows, “Yet earlier this day I received an envoy from the king. Which is it, king or queen?”

Your skin shivered as you felt Aemond's eyes constantly on you—not once did his gaze move. You remember when there was a time, a good time, in childhood, when Aemond was your closest companion. You both were around the same age, both quiet, wise, and mature. And you both lacked a dragon at the age all Targaryen children have one. You used to always defend him against the teasing of Aegon and your siblings, scolding Jace and Luke whenever they hurt Aemond's feelings. You remember how you pushed a hair out of Aemond's eyes, after the pig prank, kissing his cheek gently, promising him that he won't go without a dragon in his lifetime. How you had seen that for him.

Alas, after the driftmark incident, you didn't know who to defend, your brothers, or his taken eye. All you knew was that after you had moved to dragonstone, all talked bad of him, and with time, you started believing them.

“The house of the dragon doesn't seem to know who rules it.” Lord Borros sneered mockingly, as you clenched your fists. This was not at all how you planned it. “What's your mother's message, girl?”

You handed the envoy to one of his guards wordlessly, as Lord Borros—unable to read, called for his Mastor. Aemond Targaryen, wasn't a person you once remembered, you once loved. In a way your family would never approve. And you fear you still hold those feelings after all this time. You wonder what your mother would say, your brothers? if they knew the ways of your heart.

“Remind me? of my father's oath?” he says, sounding very offended.

At the corner of your eye, you could see Aemond smirking, as if he already won the bid. It infuriated you, as your hands curled up around your sword tightly.

“King Aegon at least came with an offer! my swords and banners for a marriage pact.” he continues, as you close your eyes in contrast to stop Aemond's winning stare on you, “now if I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will your brothers marry?”

Before you could answer, he speaks again, “—or which one of my sons will you marry?”

Your mouth gaped, as his voice sounded so excited and thrilled, as if he was already imagining having Targaryen grand children. Especially when they could be potentially heirs to the iron throne. You grimaced, a picture of his sons, same as him, fat, bearded and a wild lust, came into your mind and it disgusted you. Aemond looked surprised, straying away from his smirking face. His lips had fallen down to a glare, fist tightening.

You cleared your throat, “My brothers are not available to marry my lord, they're already betrothed to another.”

He nodded as if uninterested, looking for a different answer. Eager to know about you. His head peaked forward in question, a one you didn't want to answer; whether you'll bore his sons children or not. You were just seventeen, and even if westeros considered that to be a grown woman—you were still a young girl. And believed to be as well.

“As for me” you took a breath, “I will have to discuss it with the queen. She shall consider your offer.”

“Hmm” you heard Aemond's voice, glancing at him just for a second. This was wrong, this was so wrong. Not at all how you envisioned. He had to ruin everything, didn't he? now you had to go home with a rejection, while Jace would come with more support of armies.

Everything was a mess.

“So you come with empty hands?” Borros says, angered. You sighed, ready to mount back on your dragon and fly the rest of the way in self pity. “Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the lord of storm's end is not some dog that she can whistle up in need to set against her foes.”

Your jaw clenches, in disappointment “I shall take your answer to the queen, my lord.”

This was indeed, a failure. You failed to prove as the heir to the iron throne that you were capable. Especially because you are a girl. You needed to show it, to your mother and to everyone else, that you can take on that responsibility as well as any king. All because of him. It was his fault, and he sure looked proud. You hated this, hated his cunning smile, his swift posture, his one purple eye and oh, him. Everything you hoped you could achieve, he destroyed it for you.

He sure hated you; that was evident.

“Wait”

You hear Aemond, as you halt in your steps while turning back to the gates, “My lady strong.”

Your eyes widen, “What did you say?” he knew it, how to get in your skin. The dinner, with insults about your heritage, calling your brothers strong that resulted in a fight. It was exhausting, what did he want now? after all this time.

“You heard me.” he tilts his head, “did you really think, you could fly around the realm, trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, which makes him furrow his eyebrows. “Your brother's throne? or rather, Aegon the usurper's?”

“I would mind my tongue if I were you, my lady.”

You bit your lip, his audacity, after all he had done, to remind you of your place. As if he ranked higher than you? A beat passed by, tension thick in the air. Neither of you were looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the move. As if it was a chess board, with the winner taking all. A verbal battle. Aemond finally broke the silence.

“So you're here to usurp my brother's throne then?” he spoke with a calming chill, seeing as your eyes turned into anger, “Traitors.” he mumbled in his breath.

You control every urge to grab his collar and hit him across his face, “I am in haste. Is there something you want from me, prince Aemond?”

His head lies low and a dangerous glint comes in his eyes. You gulped, unknowing where he was about to go with this. He had changed ever since Luke had done it. Taken his eye. Somewhere, you didn't blame him. It was true that none of your brothers ever got punished for what happened, a result of your mother being the obviously favoured child. He was angry, at Luke—at you, that nothing happened. Everything was complicated; but, not unsalvagable. After you returned to king's landing, you tried everything to be nice with Aemond, to be civil, for the least. Alas, he denied all of them.

“Yes, there is something I want.” he looks up, eyes cold, “something that was stolen from me not long ago.”

A hitch escapes your lips, “Aemond—”

“You know..” he cuts you off, stepping a little forward towards your direction, “I always wished for your brother to know, what it feels like, to experience such a pain. To have your eye carved out by Valaryan steel, hmm. Unfortunately, now that he isn't here, I'll have to make him learn some other way. What it feels to have an eye cut out, or rather, a loved one's eye cut out.”

There was just the slightest bit of emotion flash in his eyes, pool of stars, in agony yet so beautiful. Your breathing becomes heavy, as you start to fear for your life. Your hands slowly pulled out your sword.

“I will not fight you.”

You intended to sound harsh, but your voice came out more of a tremble. Aemond and your relationship had gone down the drain, you knew that. Yet, was he really willing and capable of wanting to cripple you? had he started to hold such hatred for you? did he truly forget all the best memories he and you made together. He was acting like you were a stranger to him, that he did not care for your being. Even the mere thought of that sends a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Fight would be little challenge.” his voice is hoarse and cold, “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth when he pulls out his eye patch, a blue emerald stone in the place of his lost eye. He looked so very, beautiful, you thought. Majestic and soft. As even after such an attack on his face, he was born to look gorgeous, no matter what. For a moment you became oblivious to what he was demanding, staring in a trance like state. He was the epitome of Targaryen beauty, tall and long haired, pale skin with features that could start wars between great houses. Your heart fluttered and your throat became dry, unable to form any kind of answer. Aemond did not seem to notice, as he only held a sour and blank look in his eyes.

You only snapped back when he spoke again, “As a payment for mine.”

“No, I will not.” your voice is low, but clearly he heard it since something changed in his expression. He was angry. An emotion he hardly showed ever since the accident.

“Then you are a coward as well as a traitor.”

“You can't be serious ab—”

“Give me your eye!” he shouts all of a sudden and starts to walk towards you with rage, “or I will take it!”

You frantically back away, pulling out your sword on impulse. The guards coming in to shield you, as lord Borros stands up, saying something about wanting to have no such ‘bloodshed’ beneath his roof. You barely hear him over your own beating heart, fear taking over every one of your survival instincts. He orders for you to be escorted back to your dragon, as Aemond watches you exit the doomed castle. The rain has worsened, your clothes, that had been a little dried up, now went back to being wet again. You push your hair out of your eyes, raising a hand to itch your neck. Your hair was long, so it irritated your skin whenever they were soaked with rain or water.

But all you could think about was what had happened inside, his eyes, his face, all his hatred for you. Did he really want to send you harm? or was he faking? your gaze turned to the side, expecting the giant green beast yet, Vhagar was nowhere to be seen. You started to panic, if Aemond had already flown away, it could only mean two possibilities. He went back to king's landing, or he was awaiting to do something much worse. The latter scared you.

You walked towards Tessarion, her dark and orange eyes bored into your figure, wings flapping in excitement. You sigh, slowly getting on top of her and adjusting your straps.

“Sōvēs, Tessarion.”

She hears your command and swiftly takes out into the sky. She was futile and fast, if you were careful enough, you both would be able to make it to dragonstone with no harm done. Besides, rain, was her element of sheer power. You squint your eyes, rubbing water out of them as a few minutes had passed by, the storm nowhere to be stopping anytime soon. All you could hear was the flapping of her wings and the heavy rainfall that held out the dark clouds. It didn't matter anymore of Lord Borros's rejection, he couldn't be any more reliable than he already is. Besides, if you could reach your home safely, without the presence of a one eyed prince, that would be more than victory enough.

However wrong had the universe been out there to prove you.

As you were about to loosen your tight ropes, with a newfound relief—a snarl disrupts you. You looked back to see the giant mouth of the big monster in the name of a dragon, coming up towards you. Instantly you yelped, pulling the ropes sideways to avoid getting eaten. You can hear Aemond's malicious laughs, he was enjoying this. You let out a cry for help, struggling to keep hold of your now panicked dragon, as Vhagar flew around you, mouth wide open.

The rain was making it quite difficult to see, as Aemond chased you down.

Vhagar's giant claws kept trying to cut you and Tessarion, as Aemond began to mumble things in high valaryan, something you could not hear due to your panic and wanting to steer away from him and his beast. You tugged on the leash, pulling her away to the left. You knew Vhagar had a hard time with turning around, and it would buy you some time. His laugh, so cruel and emotionless, he was out to kill you. That was unquestionable. You had to get away from them, instead of processing how your childhood best friend, and the man you loved, could become the reason for your death.

A cannon appeared in your sight, and you quickly flew into the narrow path in between it. Aemond could only follow you from the above, waiting for you to come out.

“Jemēla gēlȳni enkā! Taobi!” You hear him shout, an unexpected emotion and anger in his voice. You owe a debt? No, you didn't. You did not take his eye, or tease and bully him all those years ago. In fact, you were the one who defended him. And he thinks you are the reason for his lost eye?

���For the god's sake stop this Aemond!” you shout, a whimper coming out of you. Tears running down, “please.”

Somehow, at that Aemond's demeanor softened. It looked like he was over playing with you. But your dragon wasn't done with him, instead, Tessarion disobeyed your own commands, flew out the cannon and let out a massive fire at Vhagar's face. Something that didn't do much damage. You cursed, as she shrieked in pain when you harshened the ropes to make her listen. Aemond was going through the same situation, yelling out every command in high valaryan to stop, but his dragon was angered. That's when you were remembered of your grandfather's words, the idea that we control the dragons, is an illusion.

“No Vhagar! No!” was the last thing you heard from him, before his dragon grabbed your coat with its claws, losing the balance off the seat, you screamed as you fell off. The height was above the clouds, and in nowhere will you be to survive.

Until the ocean hit your body, and you blacked out.

Rain droplets on your eyes irritated you, as you could still feel it was raining. Not as hard as before, but still. Slowly blinking, you open your eyes. You found yourself laying on top of some concrete—more over rocks and tiny stones.

A sharp pain hits you, as you realise you were having a hard time getting up.

“Ouch!” you hiss, as blood comes out of your forehead and possibly from your ribcage. With minor cuts and bruises on the tip of your fingers and lips. You were too focused on your injuries, without noticing the very familiar presence by your side. “Don't get up, or it will make whatever injuries you have received worse.”

You gasp as his voice speaks out, swiftly turning and locking your eyes with the very man who was at fault for you being here in the first place. Aemond stood a few feet away, with Vhagar a little further up. An alarm went inside you, what was he doing here? was he here to finish what he started? give you a slow and painful death? and moreover, where was your dragon?

“T—Tessarion?” you manage to whisper, the pain worsening at that. Frantically looking around. Aemond reassured, “That bundle of blue is fine, probably lurking around and searching for you.”

He tries to get closer to you, to which you quickly shift away, wincing in pain at the rocks grazing your bloodied back. “Get the fuck away from me!” you say, as you pull out your sword. Hands shakily holding it.

His eyes weakened, as if a guilt was forming in his throat. His lips parted, but nothing came out. You heard your dragon's roars, she was close somewhere. You bit your lip to suppress the pain, refusing to cry in front of him. The rain didn't leave mercy on you, as it continued to fall. You were soaked, both from the storm and possible blood by scars and fractures. If you didn't get help, you could die in a very slow way, taking around seven to nine days. Perhaps faster by starvation or dehydration—or by his very sword. You didn't know which was worse.

“Y/N..” Aemond breathes out, “I—I didn't intend to cause this.”

That was the first time in years, he spoke your name. Only your name, no titles or formality. It was raw. You didn't answer, not knowing what to make of the whole ordeal. At first he was chasing you around like a mad man, and the next minute he was apologizing for almost killing you. You tried getting back up your feet, but winced at the sheer pain that came with it.

“Let me help you or—”

“No!” you immediately shake your head, pointing your sword further towards him.

In no world will you weaken your guard, let him get close to your body only for him to deceive you and strangle you to death. Or cut your throat with that small knife of his. You didn't know why he hadn't done that already? you were blacked out for almost ten minutes, he could have easily killed you with no difficulty. What did he even want? if not to kill you then why did he do all this?

“Y/N, let me help. Falling into the ocean at such speed is the same as falling in concrete ground. If not worse.”

“You tried to kill me! why would I ever trust you?”

He falls silent at that. Unexpectedly so. You bit your lip, struggling to keep up the strong facade with all the pain masking behind it. You didn't know how much longer you would be able to keep your sword pointed at him. Your dragon is far away and no one is here to possibly protect you against Aemond and his giant beast.

“I didn't want to kill you,” he says, his voice faltering from the rain that had now soaked his entire clothes and hair, “Only scare you.”

“Well you did more than that” you bite back, a bitterness in your tone. He scoffs, “Maybe, if your young and wild dragon hadn't leashed fire on mine, this wouldn't have happened.”

A baffled scoff of your own comes out of you, in disbelief, “Oh so this is—this is my fault?”

“Precisely.”

“Fuck you!” you spat, your throat burning up at the yell. Your condition was getting worse by the minute, and Aemond noticed that. He inhaled a deep breath, preparing himself before matching up to you. You yelped as he reached over you, pulling your arms in order to get you up, but struggling as you put up a fight. You wince at the pain of getting on your feet, eventually giving up as he held on to you firmly, his hands of your waist.

You sigh, so tired like all the blood and mass from your body was being drained. You feel his eyes on you, worried as his breath was ragged. If you weren't on the brink of death, you might have realised you liked this feeling. But that moment is gone as soon as it came, you push Aemond away, roughly. This is your enemy. Not your protector.

“Y/N—”

“What do you want?!” you interrupted him, shouting amidst the heavy rainfall soaking both your breaths. “You threaten me, almost kill me, and then help me when it was you who put me in this position in the first place. I don't understand why you are here if you don't want to kill me! what other reason is there for you to do what you have done ever since I landed here?”

Aemond becomes silent, any words he could speak refused to come out. He looks at you hard, before taking his eyes off you, his jaw clenched. You were frustrated now, you wanted the answer. You needed it. He can't just ignore you after all this.

“Tell me. Why?” you inquire, again. When he doesn't answer, you furiously walk towards him, pushing his chest as he stumbles back a bit. “Why—”

“Because you didn't do anything!” he finally breaks, his voice was surprisingly inflamed with a touch of vulnerability.

You blink your eyes, taken aback, “what?”

“You...” Aemond breathes, willing himself to say those words he never wanted to say, jaw clenching, “You were my friend. My dearest one. Yet, when your brother took my eye and I was the one condemned for it, you didn't say anything. You just stood there, in pure silence. I—”

He stops himself, taking a deep breath, “I thought you would always defend me.”

You were speechless. It was true. What he said. You didn't say anything because you didn't know what happened. You weren't there. And being overwhelmed by all the shouting and bruises on your little brothers faces, you didn't know what to think. But you believed your mother. You couldn't defend yourself, he was saying the truth. You didn't have his back and that's what broke what the two of you shared. You went numb to the pain you had, or the seemingly hatred you had for him. This, this was the Aemond you remember. And you weren't about to let him go.

“I'm sorry.” you say, “I'm sorry, okay?”

But it wasn't enough. You knew it wasn't when his face fell, shaking his head and turning around to walk away from you and this. You weren't about to let that happen. “Aemond!” you called out to him, but he didn't stop. The pain was excruciating, but you needed to make this right. “Aemond!” when he doesn't listen, you take all the best strength you had left and catch up to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around.

“Aemond I'm sorry!” you yell, wanting him to feel how much guilt you felt, “But I'm in a lot of pain here, okay? it feels like my body is cut by a thousand bolts of lightning, I can't even feel my back and my throat is burning. But still, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I did not understand what was happening—we were both children for god's sake! but even then, if I hurt you, which evidently now that I have I mean we wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't, I'm so sorry.”

You don't know if you made it better or worse looking at the stoic expression on his face. But you had tried. The rain had soaked all his emotions, but even then you could see just the little bit of stars in his pupils you once saw as kids. You cross your arms, feeling the cold embrace you as you shudder in your injuries and pain. He gulped, unknowingly laying his head low to avoid looking in your eyes.

“I apologize, for this. For everything. I lost my temper today. It won't happen again.”

Your eyes soften at his words, as if a wall had risen between you two again. You hated it. You wanted to break it. So you did. In a few fraction of seconds, you didn't realise what you were about to do before you walked closer to him, too close. His breath hitches as your face comes in between his wet hair, his hair touching your cheeks just slightly.

“Y/N—”

He was only able to mumble out these words before your lips were on his. So barely. He inhaled a sharp breath, hands coming up but not knowing where to go. You close your eyes and just for one moment, forget the war, the families, the armies. Just you and him. Before you pull away, Aemond finally found his senses and comes up to cup your cheeks. Kissing you back softly but with an unspoken passion. He was careful not to hurt you.

Your hands find his waist, carefully tugging at the black belts that were wrapped around it. It felt like this was what you both had craved all these years. This. All the fight left out of him the moment you kissed him. Like the sun finally just glanced one look at his star. The one closest to it. You were his sun. And he was your favourite star. You only pull away when the growl of your dragon reaches your ears, Tessarion was here. Just a few rocks away. Your foreheads were touching, and Aemond places a small kiss at your head.

“Get home safe.” he whispers, his thumb tracing down your lips.

You didn't know if you would get a moment like this again. But you were happy. That you finally got to have one taste of heaven. Your heaven. Your Targaryen. Your Aemond.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛!

[thatbadassauthor]

✡ Alastor x Fem!FallenSeraphim!Reader ✡

@BlazeTheCatPrincess ON WATTPAD. I know it's not really what you asked for but take this while I'm working on it. This was inspired by your request but dw I'm still doing your request.

~

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You don't ever speak to him, except the few moments you'll walk past him and share a quick hello. You both clearly respect each other, yet aren't at all more then acquaintances.

..Until, you're not. And you have a certain cat demon to thank for that.

⚠️ Trigger Warning; ⚠️

Mentions of Falling from Grace.

Mentions of Religion.

Profanity.

Alcohol indulgence.

Mentions of Light Gore, nothing too explicit.

──── ୨୧ ────

You joined the Hazbin Hotel around a year ago, for your own.. reasons. Being an infamous Overlord, you helped Charlie and the rest of the hotel staff with your wide range of abilities. Sure, Alastor was helping too, but there are things he couldn't do. As there was things he could do you couldn't. Despite not talking often, you definitely work together exceptionally well. You both know how to get things done, after all.

You've always been a mystery, that's how you liked it. The less people know about you the better, but Charlie's never minded. Especially since Vaggie threatens you the least out of everyone here. After you fought for them at the Extermination, Vaggie has been oddly nice. Charlie takes it as just some character development, but you know the true reason. She knows.

Knows you're a fallen angel.

Of course you don't have anything to give that away, you know how to keep your secrets. But it's as if now she's seen how you fight she can taste the angelic blood. No one else knows, but you suppose as a fallen excorsist if anyone would figure it out, it's her.

-

As you're an Overlord, you'd think you'd have something with The Radio Demon. Something like a rivalry, or maybe a bond. But nope. You don't ever speak to him, except the few moments you'll walk past and say a quick hello. You both clearly respect each other, yet aren't at all more then acquaintances. Of course you've had your moments where you've thought about trying to start a bond with him, but that's only out of curiosity. You know how YOU got your power so quickly, but for some mortal to get power that quick? Who wouldn't be at least some form of intrigued.

You're currently sitting at the bar with Husk, the gruff cat demon grumpily passing you a shot of vodka. He slides it over the bar to you, and you stop it from falling with your powers before using one finger to trace the rim of the glass.

"Why don't you talk to Alastor more? I mean it ain't any of my business, and I don't really care.. but I feel like everyone expects you two to get along most?" Husk inquiries with a raised eyebrow, clearly curious despite denting such.

"Oh please, I do things with reason. I have no reason to.. bond with him, if that's what you're implying. As for the expectation of us getting along, whatever would make you all think such?" You reply simply, yet internally question the topic at hand. You'd think Husk wouldn't want to talk about anything regarding Alastor, he doesn't exactly hide his distaste for the deer demon.

"I mean.. you're both Overlords. And everyone saw how you two work together. I ain't tryna get in your business or somethin', just sayin'.. You compliment each other." The bartender says with a shurg, wiping a glass with a rag. His paw holds the fabric carefully, the cat demon keeps his eyes locked on the glass. As if he's being extra careful with his words, making sure he doesn't accidentally strike a nerve with someone who could easily snap his neck with a claw.

"Mhm, any Overlord can work with another when they want to. Besides, I don't hate him. We just.. have no reason to speak. He does actions with reason as much as I do, I respect him for that. But I don't get your point regarding.. "Us complimenting each other." As you so bluntly put it." You respond casually, grabbing the glass and sipping on it casually.

Of course you respect the demon, he's done nothing to not earn that in your eyes. Though you think about the bartender's suggestion a little more then you thought you would.. What if you were to bond with Alastor, maybe even court him. You immediately shake the thought out of your mind, why would you ever do something so silly? You can't deny he's powerful, but you barely even speak to him. You have no reason to.

"All I'll say is give it a shot. Give him a shot, you'll thank me later."

-

And you did exactly that, later that night you had walked up to The Radio Demon and discussed how he killed his last victim. It was very creative actually, ripping out his guts and then strangling him with his own intestines. Oh his screams were almost heavenly, the closest you'll get to Heaven nowadays. You don't miss it, at all. Sera was a bitch, Lute too.

And surprisingly, that night went really well. It was nothing extreme at all, but definitely improvement. You couldn't deny it, Husk had a point. He did compliment you in a lot of ways, especially his snarky humor matching your sarcastic one. Oh, and the mutual sadism and power. That too.

After that day you started to talk with The Radio Demon a lot more, each time Husk would be somewhere with a knowing smile. One time he even brought you over to Cannibal Town, and he constantly mentioned how he was older then you. Well it is true he's been in HELL longer then you, you decided to keep to yourself the fact you were made centuries before the 1900s.

The tidy town had reminded you a lot of Heaven, and apart from the embassy it's the closest thing to Heaven down here. Of course it's no where near Heaven at all, but compare it to the ruthless streets of Pentagram City.. Yeah.

You'll definitely have to repay Husk sometime, but that's not important right now.

-

Currently the hotel is beaming of energy, the atmosphere as warm and welcoming as ever. Since the renovations, it's been a lot more lively with more patrons, much to Charlie's delight. Charlie is seen on the other side of the lobby, welcoming in an aquatic pair of sinners to their rooms. Vaggie trails behind Charlie and the demons, as if to make sure they won't do anything shady to the naive princess. Charlie thinks it's a bit much and that she needs to be more trusting, yet Vaggie will always be her guard dog. Whether Charlie likes it or not, it's in Vaggie's nature.

Angel is seen pestering the bartender with his sexual remarks, laying his long body of the counter much to Husk's annoyance. The cat demon looks at the arachnid fondly however, much to his own annoyance. And Nifty is out of the hotel, presumably stabbing some of the little critters she obsesses over so much out on the roof.

Being your ever playful self, you decide to find something to entertain yourself before the Overlord meeting later. You use one of your angelic abilities to turn invisible. Well, more so into holy light. But since you're in Hell, all it does is make you invisible. Which is actually helpful, being a fallen angel has it perks.

You walk up behind your good friend, which earned an ear flick yet he doesn't seem to know you're there. Obviously he senses someone, but he presumes it's just his powers flaring up. Sometimes it tends to do that, as his static can sense air frequency yet it flares up just due to the noise.

Suddenly he feels a soft, warm feeling on his senstive deer ears. Immediately his body tenses up, and his grip on his newspaper tenfolds. His clawed fingers rip through the paper effortlessly, his eyes widened and on alert. But before he can react he let's out a whimper. One that sounds awfully pleased. He immediately covers his mouth, yet luckily everyone is too preoccupied to notice his reaction. He lets out a soft, embarrassed moan before his ears bend down out of your grip.

"Who wants to lose a limb today? HAHA." Alastor suddenly declares before looking behind him. Only in the most unsettling way possible, bending his head impossibly back behind him with his neck outstretched only to see no one. He straightens up after placing down the newspaper, and turns his whole body to face your direction.

Seeing no one, he immediately pieces it together. You're the only one who can turn invisible apart from himself, after all. "My darling, at least play your ridiculous pranks somewhere more private? I have a reputation to uphold."

You manifest before him expectedly after being called out, wearing a cheeky smirk that could rival the Jokers. You show absolutely no regret of remorse, not to The Radio Demon's surprise. You simply snicker as he rolls his eyes, you're damn lucky. Any other demon would've lost their limb as soon as he regained his senses.

Despite being a fellow Overlord, he definitely trusts you. You've bonded a lot over these years, dare he say you could rival Rosie for his affections. He simply waves a hand dismissively, stopping the sarcastic excuse before you can say it.

"You think you're funny darling? Well, two can play that game." The deer demon suddenly exclaims, which makes you cross your arms over your chest.

Your eyes glint with defiance, yet anticipation. Your wings almost flare out instinctively to challenge him, though you stop them before they do so. He doesn't know you're a fallen angel after all. You only let your black regal wings out when threatening and killing your victims, so no one is ever alive to tell the tale. To expose your little secret.

"Oh really?" You say, not afraid but definitely anticipating what he has planned. Surely he won't go too extreme, but you are well aware of how he likes to return favours..

"I can't wait for our meeting, my dear darling. See you later, I'll be waiting."

Oh, you had forgotten about that. You know you're in for it now. But why does that send a shiver down your spine?

──── ୨୧ ────

1748 WORDS <3 A nice and quick one. Also there's a lot of time skips becuz I'm lazy asf.

[hotteokyu]

Ice on her Lips

Synopsis ~ Gifted with the curse of immortality, you are the northern princess that each kingdom desires to grasp. You hide within the northern army as an infamous general, fighting for your kingdom's treasure with ease... until a soldier from the east kingdom, whom you can never overpower, discovers your identity. The water is warm, but his lips are warmer, and you suddenly never want to return home. Even if you give your greatest enemy your sacred gift, you wish to stay in his enchanting hold.

Pairing ~ enemy!seonghwa x enemy!princess!reader

Word count ~ 5.3k

Genre / warnings ~ historical-ish, fantasy, romance, EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, enemies-to-lovers, violence, war, blood, suffering, reader has white hair for plot, kissing, outdoor / semi-public sex, underwater play (?), the cave makes his soft noises really loud, he tries to gain control but he's a mess, unprotected sex, they almost get caught, oral sex (female receiving), hand job (hardly), he cums on his own, he cums untouched once, they're very mean (´‸`), desperate sex, just read it

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ! ! !

a/n ~ please enjoy! mwa ᯓᡣ𐭩

     You fight for your kingdom. You fight for its treasure which thousands have fallen to protect. You fight for your precious life, and that is why you are regarded with the highest rank and greatest respect.

     Because you fight for the kingdom’s treasure. 

     Because you are the kingdom’s treasure. 

     Your men don’t know you’re the princess that they are meant to die for. Your enemies don’t know you are not the general they desire to kill with every fiber of their being and dignity as a soldier. 

     It is your greatest amusement, watching your enemies fall at your feet with such hatred in their glare at the one thing they desire so greatly.

     You are the princess of the northern kingdom. Your skin is cold as frostbite, but warm blood streams healthily throughout their vessels. Your hair is white as the snow leopard which hides deep within your icy soul. You are a beauty, and you have the one thing all men wish to obtain. Immortality. 

     Although that term is very misleading, it is more or less true. You are gifted with everlasting youth and health until you die by a sword to your frozen heart. You have the ability to give any one being your gift. 

     Your northern kingdom wishes to let you live as any princess would until you pass peacefully. They believe immortality should not be brought upon any man or woman. Again, they do not realize it isn’t quite immortality. Nonetheless, the four kingdoms are at constant war, fighting to obtain the princess or protect the princess from the wrong hands.

     “Where are your men?” 

     You don’t turn your head, your eyes focused on pulling your warm gloves over your bruised hands. You recognize his voice, the man whom you happen to come across at least once a week in battle. He’s a general from the east, dressed in complete black from his long, bunned hair to his horse. 

     “I’m on vacation today,” you say softly, leaning back on your hands as you peek over at him. “Didn’t you hear? The princess died. Fight’s over.” 

     He huffs a laugh, smiling as he glances over at the entrance to the cave you’re resting in, sitting atop your beautiful white horse. 

     “Your men are missing as well,” you point out, eyeing the entrance. There’s no commotion or presence. He’s alone.

     “I came here to rest,” he says.

     “I doubt that,” you sigh. “Did you follow me here? Think I’d undress? Per-”

     “I think it’s time one of us dies,” he interrupts. “Men are falling at our sides and yet here we stand unharmed. We must fall alone for the sake of what will come of this war.”

     You tilt your head. How virtuous. “And what if you fall?”

     “So be it,” he answers confidently. “But I will not.”

     “I don’t think you understand why I’m so good at what I do, Park Seonghwa,” you whisper. Your tiny voice echoes throughout the cave, and your footsteps bounce from the walls as you dismount your horse.

     He comes down to your level, his boots clacking softly against the wet rock. He towers over you, but he doesn’t look so intimidating off of his stallion. He reaches out and taps your helmet curiously.

     “Is it this?” he asks. “You hiding something under there?” 

     You smile softly. “Let’s fight to the death,” you say. “Then we’ll find out.” 

     Seonghwa overpowers you with his pure strength, but you have an immaculate technique to counter. He’s good with his sword, but he’s so predictable. It’d almost be boring if not for his constantly trying to run at you and put you down. What kind of strategy is that? It’s pathetic. I guess he’s trying to use your weakness, but, really, let’s be serious. 

     But brute strength and better technique do balance out a little more than you’d like. It’s been hours of back-and-forth jabs and deep slices, and you’re both bleeding puddles onto the rocky cave ground. You’re panting, bent over as you clutch your trembling arm. You’ve lost your sword at this point, your fist curled tight as if you could deal a punch on this man while you weren’t about to pass out. 

     Seonghwa isn’t much better, but he’s standing tall, his sword snapped in two at his feet. He’s dripping streams of blood from his limbs, but he puffs his chest out in a laugh. He takes a trembling step forward, his expression remaining calm despite the tremors of his limbs. He reaches out slowly, and you can’t find it in you to stop him.

     As your helmet crashes to the floor, the metal clanking and echoing aggressively until it rolls to a stop, your hair falls into its natural place, covering your face from his faltering gaze. His fingers gently touch a strand, slowly following it to its tip without disturbing its soft delicacy. 

     “You understand now?” you choke out, trying to hide your fear. Seeing what you desire most practically in your hands could drive a man mad. Fuck technique, he could take you right now, and you won’t be able to stop him. It’ll all be over. 

     “I understand,” he says quietly. You lift your head in choppy, trembling movements. “Your kingdom does not understand your gift’s beauty, so they have thrown you to the one place where you can die.” 

     You clench your jaw. He’s hardly holding your hair between his fingers with any determination, but it feels like a tight leash. You can’t back away. “You don’t understand, then,” you say.

     “Princess.”

     Your leg shoots up to his face, and he grabs your calf, a deep scowl running over his soft features. He pushes your leg away, but you push harder until he slams into the ground. He grips your hair, pulling you with him with a harsh tug, and you immediately slam your hands into his throat, sitting your knees on the deep slashes on his arms. You dig your broken fingers into his neck, his eyes wide and arms useless. He grits his teeth, desperate to breathe as he squirms under you. His eyes never leave yours, his pupils contracted to thin slits of livid warning. As you eye the shards of his sword, preparing to end this once and for all, you hear a roar of footsteps coming from outside the cave.

     You grunt, throwing yourself away from him and sprinting further into the cave. You hear him cough and gasp, stumbling pathetically behind you as you escape into the darkness.

     You’ve been hiding behind a waterfall for hours. It’s cold, your clothes soaked in blood and mist from the splash of the water. You’re far from the cave, having found a small hole to escape from. You’re hidden carefully where no one should find you. 

     And you don’t know what to do.

     You’re cold and hungry. You’re too cautious to go out to find food. You’re too injured to move much anyway. You’ve wrapped up your cuts with strips of fabric from your clothes, but that’s all you can do. Your satchel is back with your horse. You think you should call for help. But… What if Seonghwa was right? Your kingdom had always expressed their hatred for your gift. You had wanted to be a soldier since you were young, but… normally kingdoms don’t let their princesses go to war, do they? 

     You sigh, resting your head against the damp rock behind you. “I don’t know,” you mumble, gazing out through the gentle stream of water at the entrance to the cave. 

     You hardly hear the gentle rustling of the flowers beside the pond, but you quickly scoot yourself deeper into the darkness when you see two black boots appear. It’s Seonghwa.

     “Are you kidding me?” you say through tightly gritted teeth. 

     He’s standing there, but he doesn’t look like he sees you. He looks calm, eyes gazing at the soft ripples of the water. His hair rests gently against his neck, wavy and thick, almost reaching his shoulders. He runs his rough fingers through the top, ruffling it lightly. He won’t see you. He’s off guard now. He’s alone. 

     You sit up slightly. He’s alone, off guard. You should kill him. You look around with your eyes without making any sudden movement. There’s hardly anything around you. No loose rocks or sticks. It’s all just… You spot a sharp rock from you. He’ll definitely see you. There’s no way you can reach it without him seeing you. Anyway, there’s no way you could muster the strength to crawl over there. You’re involuntarily limp. You should just pray he leaves. Don’t get into a fight. 

     But you eye him and start to panic when you spot him dipping his bare feet in the water, his shirt gone, and his hands working at the strings of his pants. How did he get undressed so quickly?? Is he seriously going to bathe in the middle of his enemy’s land?? 

     He pauses, though, and you nearly breathe a sigh of relief, your shoulders releasing their tension slowly. His muscles and scars flex as he turns slightly, his head tilting back into a small roll, stretching his stiff neck. He looks tired, his lips parted softly, eyes closed gently. He’s certainly doing better than you, but you definitely made him too weak to fight for a while. He lets out a soft sigh, and your ears perk up at the sound, the slight vocalization of his low voice rumbling gently through his chest. 

     “Princess…”

     Your ears fall, your expression blank. You don’t breathe, don’t think. 

     “Let me treat your wounds,” he says, tilting his head forward as he eyes the stream of water protecting you from his view. Or perhaps not. 

     But you remain still. Why would you go out? Even if it’s petty, you won’t give up. Even if it’s useless, you shouldn’t just hand yourself over.

     “Or will you watch me undress and bathe like a pervert?” he asks, and it gains him a scurry of trembling legs against the slippery cave floor. 

     You’re not just giving yourself to him… He’s going to heal you, and then you’ll run away. You won’t fight him. You won’t let him take you. You’ll run far…

     You can hardly climb down onto the soft grass, and you land harshly on your hands. Your arms fail to prop you up, so your face lies against the fluff of the damp green. He’s slow and cool as he walks over to you, kneeling beside you. He doesn’t touch you or say anything. He gazes at you for a second, your white locks stained by the puddles of your blood. Your bandages have done nothing to stop your bleeding.

     His fingers graze your hair before he lifts your head slightly. You groan, your head pounding as he lays it atop a soft fabric. 

     “Just lay here,” he says quietly. “I will take care of your wounds.” 

     His touch is so delicate. As much as you want to push him away, you want to pull him closer and have him caress your poor body like this forever. As much as you want to run away, you want to sink into the grass and fall asleep to his gentle breaths. 

     Your eyes open drowsily, hardly able to roll back into place, as you’re surrounded by warm, gentle water. The lake envelops your stinging limbs, and it numbs the feeling that you’re so used to. It should enhance the pain, and yet you feel weightless, skinless, boundless, yet still calm and sleepy. 

     “I used an ointment from the east,” he says below his breath, so quietly. “It’s very efficient,” he takes a soft breath, “and it’s lovely.” His voice is beside your ear, and you know his body is touching yours in familiar, intimate ways. But his voice is enchanting, lulling you to a hazy clarity of calm. “Are you hungry, princess?” he asks.

     One of his arms wraps around your waist, which is bare, as his skin directly slides along yours. Your cushion is his lap, but that is clothed as it should be. As he reaches for a basket along the grass beside the water, his chest leans further against your back. You gaze down with a warm, slow breath. Your chest is covered. He’s a kind monster at least.

     “Here,” he says, holding a container of fresh water up for you to take. Your hands tremble but can hardly move. Your head tilts to the side in a weak frustration. Your head is so fuzzy. It doesn’t hurt any longer, but you can’t seem to take control of any of your movements. Perhaps you’ve lost far too much blood. “Princess,” he whispers, and you hum in weak acknowledgment. With a sigh, he brings the container to your lips, but you can hardly form any shape with them, and the water flows quickly to the pond beneath the target. He takes it away with a soft grumble. Then, he brings it to his own lips, takes a small sip, and his other hand lifts your chin gently.

     His lips barely touch yours, just slightly to open your wide enough for the water to pass through. When he leans away, his fingers close your jaw, and you swallow weakly, your brows knitted together in relief as your horrible thirst is finally starting to be quenched. 

     He takes another sip and repeats, his head tilting slightly in something you would hardly call a kiss. But as you swallow, the sharp pain in your throat begging for more, your useless fingers claw gently at his side, and he pauses in his tracks, his eyes searching for what’s wrong. You can’t speak. You need more. He needs to hurry. 

     Your head trembles as you lift it slightly. “M-more,” you mumble. You should just drink it yourself. Fuck, you need more.

     He hurries to take another sip, and you meet him in the middle, smashing your lips against his. His body lifts a little as you push forward. You swallow the water quickly, and he tries to go away, but he’s going too fucking slow. Your lips move desperately against his, your throat burning with need.

     “P-Princess,” he gasps, turning his head away quickly. He grabs the container and takes a larger sip, bringing it back, and you’re on top of him before he can turn completely. Your wounds are healing fast with this lovely ointment, and your hands can finally move as you grab the back of his neck and pull his lips down onto yours. There’s more this time, and you swallow hard, pushing your tongue into his mouth to find whatever you can before he has to leave again. “There’s-” he gasps, “no- more-” 

     Your fingers slide through his damp hair, soft and thick against your rough hands. He’s curled over you, your back arched as you pull him desperately closer. Fuck, you’re hardly even thirsty anymore. His taste, his gasps, his vulnerability, and his kindness. You need more. As your fingers slide through his hair, he groans softly. It probably feels good. Someone like him has never felt such love, such care and affection. You want to give it to him so bad. You should repay him for his kindness. 

     You break away, panting and flushed. His eyes are hooded, his lips puffy as he leans toward you. His cheeks are a light pink, hair disheveled. What a beautiful sight.

     Your lips find his jaw, feeling it clench as you trail soft pecks down to his neck. His skin is soft here, untouched. You nibble lightly on the skin and listen to his gentle shiver as you give kitten licks to ease the sting. You graze your teeth against him as you open wider, teasing the skin as you press lightly down. His hands slide across your thighs, squeezing them as he lifts his chin a little more, giving you more access. 

     Thumping footsteps make both of you jump, and a deep, obnoxious voice calls out, “Seonghwa!” He pushes your head harshly under the surface, and everything else is muffled for you. His hands quickly gather your hair and hold your strands tightly so they won’t float everywhere.

     You open your eyes slowly, listening intently to the voices above. Seonghwa is looking behind him, speaking, but you can’t make anything out. You won’t die or anything, but, if you run out of air, you’ll pass out. You really don’t want to deal with that right now.

     Pressing your lips together tightly, you lower your eyes to his body to occupy your mind while you wait. Fuck, his bare, hard chest and defined stomach sitting right in front of you... He should really thank you for this body. Fuck, he’s beautiful. Really, it’s because of you he’s had to train so hard. 

     His… oh…? You raise a brow as your eyes land on his crotch. He’s wearing black briefs, his thighs thick and hard, but not harder than his cock. The bulge is big and hard to miss, straining against the fabric. It doesn’t leave much of anything to the imagination. The tip is outlined, the shape of him defined in detail just for you. How is he so worked up from a few innocent kisses? 

     You glance up, and he’s taking his sweet time talking to those men. You’re going to run out of air soon, but this fucker doesn’t care, does he? He thinks because you’re immortal you can just sit under water like it’s nothing. 

     You huff, a small bubble of air floating to the surface, and you grab his cock. He jumps, his hand tightening around your hair and pulling lightly in warning. But you don’t let go. He’ll get them out of here, or his dick is gonna fall off. 

     It’s heavy in your hand, though still covered by the fabric. You wonder how thick it’d feel out of the water, just resting in your hand. You wonder how he’d sound if you gripped it hard and stroked him until he came with a pathetic whine. You swallowed hard, feeling it pulse in your grip. 

     Feeling newly frustrated, you look up, and he’s still talking. What the fuck is there to even say? You grit your teeth and grab the band of his briefs, pulling them down until his cock slowly comes out, floating to hit against his stomach. He pulls more harshly on your hair, and you groan. It doesn’t hurt underwater. Everything feels numb and weightless. It just tickles a little. Maybe it’s because you’re losing air, and your head is feeling foggy, but you want to push him further. You want him to hurry, but you also want to torture him just a bit. 

     You wrap your hand around him, your fingers almost able to touch but not quite. He’s so hard, twitching in your hold and shivering as you slowly glide your hand up to the tip. You watch his stomach tense up at every subtle movement. He sinks a bit further into the water as your thumb brushes over the slit. He’s throbbing at this point. Maybe being watched is getting him off. Maybe he likes the thrill of possibly getting caught. 

     You stroke him slowly, feeling every vein and unique shape, mesmerized by how his entire body shudders when you do something he likes. Fuck, you want to hear him. He’s so stern and confident, but, look at him, he’s trembling just for you. 

     You stroke him a little faster, your air running thin quicker and quicker and time moves fast. He grabs your wrist, and suddenly, you’re lifted from the water. 

     You gasp for air, coughing and taking long, deep breaths. He pats your back as you grasp his shoulders, wiping at your eyes as you try to see again. Fuck, your head hurts. That was close. You really thought you would pass out there. 

     “Fuck, Seo-” He grabs your body and lifts you over his shoulder. Your upper body hands against his back as he holds you there by your thighs. Your wet hair dangles into the water, floating along the surface like a spider’s web. “What are you-!”

     He grabs the waistband of your pants and pulls them down, discarding them somewhere, and suddenly your ass feels very fucking cold. You squeak pathetically as his hand digs into your flesh, his fingers slipping slightly into the wetness of your core. 

     “Since you seem to like games like this, we should keep playing, right?” he practically growls. You feel a thick finger slowly slide through your slick, and you shiver. It slips through your soaked lips and teases your hole before moving away completely. “Who knows who might come and see us, princess?” he says, his voice low and thick with anger. 

     You try to spout something back, but he slams two fingers into your hole, and a long, pathetic moan is all you can utter. Your legs try to spread wider, but they can’t move, and it makes everything so tight. Fuck, he’s ramming his fingers against your walls, and you tremble, your moans airy as you struggle to breathe and absorb the pleasure at the same time. 

     “Someone could be watching right now,” he says. “Maybe it’s your men. They’ll watch their great general cum on their enemy’s fingers.”

     His teeth graze your side before biting down on your flesh. You whimper, his every word and- No, no, what the fuck are you doing? You let him have his way as soon as he gave you something good. You groan as you reach into the water and search until you find his cock. You grab it tightly, and his pace falters.

     “Princess,” he warns, but both of you stop as soon as you hear a slight rustling in the woods.

     Your body is slammed into the water, and he follows right behind this time. He urges you to swim toward the waterfall, and you get there before him, pulling him to the surface quickly, and his hand wraps around your mouth as you go to say something. 

     “I swear I saw her come this way!” a young man shouts. “Look! She must have been here!” He must be pointing to Seonghwa’s bag, which was beside the river.

     Seonghwa is pressed against you, your back to the rock path which you had been resting on before he found you. The cave is dark and silent as you both listen intently. 

     “She’s most certainly been captured,” a deep, nasty voice declares. You know that voice all too fucking well, and your eyes grow wide. The king. “Follow the river to the northern kingdom. It is where she must be!”

     There are too many footsteps to count as his army does as they’re told. Everything goes silent again, and you release the breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. You should have called out for them, but it hardly even crossed your mind. Why? 

     Turning back to Seonghwa here, you don’t even care about going home.

     Neither of you even question it. You don’t care.

     He lifts you onto the rock and spreads your legs, your hips right against the edge. His warm breath fans over your thighs as he gazes into your eyes. Your cheeks are so hot despite the cool air against your wet skin, and you lean back onto your hands with a soft sigh. You watch as his gaze fixes on your pussy, a low groan tingling your ears. 

     One of your hands comes to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses your inner thigh softly. His lips press against your slick, and you whimper, biting your lip as his brows lift at the taste of you. His eyes roll to a close, his tongue licking a thick strip from your hole to your clit, and you tremble, your ears twitching as the wet sounds of him against you are enhanced by the cave walls. 

     His hands grip your thighs as he sighs, his lips moving like a kiss against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit and tasting your sweet slick desperately.

     “Fuck ngh~” you whine, your hips grinding against his tongue. “S-Seonghwa, Seonghwa~” Your words are airy and slurred, your eyes shaking as they roll to the back of your head with every suck and lick against your clit. His breathing is getting heavier, and you notice the lack of one of his hands on you. “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, sstop, I’ll h-hellp yoou,” you mumble, pushing his head away, but he doesn’t move. His lips move faster, his tongue burying deep in your hole, and your back falls to the rock, your legs trembling as he fucks your soaked hole with his tongue. “Hhwa, Seonghwa mm~ Hwa, llet me, pleease,” you beg, feeling his rhythm pick up, the heat and pleasure building quickly. “No, no,” you whine, a tear slipping down your burning cheek. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, Seonghwa.” You grind your pussy against his lips as your body trembles in pure ecstasy. You let out a desperate moan as he flicks his tongue over your clit, riding out your orgasm until you’re limp, shaking under him. 

     “Good girl,” he mumbles, leaving a peck on you as he backs away.

     “Shut the fuck up,” you growl, grabbing his hair. You sit up, closing your legs with a huff. “Fuck me. Right now.” His eyes grow a little wide, and you quirk a brow. “What’s wrong? Did you already cum?” He doesn’t answer, and you tug on his hair harder. “All on your own?” You laugh in disbelief. “Get out of the water.”

     He climbs onto the rock, and you push him onto his back, straddling his lap. Suddenly he’s so quiet. Suddenly his dick isn’t a hard, throbbing mess. You scoff, gripping him and pressing your pussy against him. He groans, his brows furrowed as you grind slowly. 

     “That wasn’t very nice of you, Seonghwa,” you spit, humming softly at the little bits of pleasure your clit gets. “Especially toward a princess.” You feel him growing harder in your grip, and you smile. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

    He’s silent, his soft breaths the only answer.

     “Of course, not,” you say. “Cumming all on your own. I didn’t even get to see your pretty face.” You reach out and push back the little hairs covering his eyes. You grab his chin harshly and pull him toward you. You smash your lips against his, grinding your hips harder as you feel him grow stiff. He whimpers against your mouth, his hands grabbing your hips and trying to still you, so you drop him with a huff. He groans as his head hits the floor, but before he can recover, you're lining his dick up to your hole. 

     “P-Princess,” he whimpers, his eyes rolling back as you sink onto his thick cock. Your lips puff out as you stifle a moan, his tip rubbing just the right spot, so deep inside you. You place your hands on his chest, your head hanging as you get used to the stretch. 

     “Y/n,” you whisper, afraid your voice will fail you if you try to speak. “Say my name,” you whine, “please, say my name, fuck ngh~”

     His cock twitches as he suppresses the need to thrust into your tight, soaked hole. “Y/n,” he gasps as you lift your hips slowly and drop back down. “Y/n, y/n, princess, do that again, fuck~” 

     As you lift your hips again and slam them back down, you collapse onto his chest with a soft cry. You let your hips do the work, your mouth devouring his as you fuck yourself on his cock. His hands grip your hips, pushing you down faster when you lift up. He wants to melt into you, this feeling making his entire body shudder with pleasure. His cock rubs against your walls and hits you just right, and you’re literally drooling into his mouth as you moan his name. 

      “Y/n, Y/n! Y/n, baby, you’re so tight,” he moans. “Are you gonna cream on my cock for me, princess? Come on, I know you’re close.” He plants his feet and grabs your hips, thrusting up into your pussy as you slam down. He picks up the pace and your head falls to his chest, your body limp as he fucks you desperately. “Come on,” he begs. “I’m gonna cum~” He hiccups. “Together, baby, come on, please~” He bites your shoulder as he tries to stop his moans, but his voice only gets louder as his thick, warm cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back as you feel him stuff you full, but it’s just not enough to make you cum. You can’t see his beautiful face. 

     So you lift off of his cock, his cum spilling out of you quickly, and you straddle his head, sitting your pussy against his lips. You watch his hazy eyes spill soft tears as he laps at you, drinking his own cum and your sweet slick. It doesn’t take much as he fucks you on his tired tongue, your pussy grinding on him at your own pace, for you to cum, whimpering and gasping as your body shakes with bliss. You watch him tremble as his cock spurts again, his face contorting beautifully just like you’d wanted to see. 

     You sit beside him and admire his beauty, completely limp on the rocky floor. He’s wet with tears and cum, and his stomach is messy with his release.

     You lean down and lick from his stomach to his soft cock, cleaning his cum off of his body. He shivers gently until you’re done, and you lay beside him.

     Your clothes have all dried, the sun warm against your skin as you both lay in the grass. There’s a comfortable yet questioning silence in the air. What now?

     “I don’t think I want to go home,” you say, gazing at the thin clouds and gentle sway of the trees. 

     Your answer is obvious. You want to live freely. But you know there’s no possibility of that ever happening. You know, whether you go home, where you’re resented for your gift, or go with Seonghwa, where you are desired for your gift, you will never be free. 

     “You were right. What you said when we had our duel.” He quirks a brow. “They sent me out to die.” 

     “Shall we just kill the northern king, then?”

     You whip your head toward him, his smile teasing as he gazes at you. 

     “You’re joking,” you sigh, turning away. 

     “I’m not.” He sits up with a small grunt. “Let’s take over the northern kingdom.”

     “Hell no,” you spit, propping yourself up on your hands. “Seonghwa, you're an eastern general. I’m not starting shit with you.”

     “So what do you want?”

     He looks at you silently. There isn’t a word in his eyes, and it forces you to think. What the fuck have you been doing your whole life besides killing to protect your fucking immortal gift? And the northern king refuses to use it. He wants you and your gift dead, but… what do you want? 

     “I want the fighting to stop,” you say. “I want men to stop dying for their greed.”

     “What do you want, princess?” he asks again. “Forget your gift. What do you want?” 

     You glance down at your clothes, dirty and old. A man’s clothes which you never really wanted to wear. The thrill of the battlefield is what keeps you moving, but you’ve always desired what could’ve been without your immortality. 

     “Shall we?” you mumble, gazing up at Seonghwa. “Shall we just kill him?” 

a/n ~ thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thoughttt~ ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू)

Taglist ~ @peachyy-jooniee @everyonewooeverywhere @gillianallen79 @bigpooperer @djanqxv @vegetarischewurst @iwantleonsarmsaroundmyneck @kcf4e @bluemoonfloower @hyxciinth1206 @ceriseribbonz @metzzz99csan @sunshinemingkii @strawberrystarcakes @akijoong @appleschre @deathmetalreaper @yeoyeoland @pukupukupowpow1117 @tashmonellloveskpopboybands @dogmom-1990 @joongscheese @domfikeluva @monbebeluv1103 @eggsocccs @litolmochi @nairobi22 @moremoons @eternalmei @deerieme @animedraws3 @altijdanouk @ultchanrose-blog @bluesunpurplestar1117 @blushpink00 @peachy-jooniee @berry-peachy @daniela-f-uwu @vivrtual @kpop-nct @robertsbbygirl @danitzyam @cassagathariver @anibelx @hyunstxns @geeznena @anoooon13 @cloudysannie @winc1ty @sinforsuccubus @slashervalley @mingisbaby @mazzystarrysky @here112 @mimifairytales @lewliett @klllerwaifu @cherrychristie

[cannoli-reader]

Just some thoughts:

I didn’t understand how pervasive such expectations could be in a mono-cultural society.

This, I think, is a major problem with the show writers (and for Rings of Power as well). WoT & Middle-Earth are absolutely monocultural, and instead, the writers decided to make them the same as their own world. Ironically, growing up in a multicultural society, or working in a multicultural city like New York, Los Angeles or London, has eroded their ability to consider, embrace or understand a different sort of cultural background. To paraphrase The Incredibles, "If every culture is special, no one is."

Perrin has difficulty understanding Faile’s culture.

The same thing could probably be said of Rand and Aviendha, or of Mat and Tuon. Or perhaps not ...the characters are more aware that cultural differences fuel misunderstandings.

I think some of the biggest issues in this regard, outside of the overt problem Perrin has (Faile is aware and working the problem - she's simply getting no help at the other end), are actually between Rand & Elayne. Because class is culture as well. Elayne does not see herself as a superior class to any of the non-noble characters (and it's not channeling or lust - the first character she befriends is Min), and so is unaware of any such difference, but Rand is absolutely aware of her status and creates distinctions in his own head.

With Aviendha and Tuon, their Two Rivers partners stumble over specific cultural practices (like proposal/marriage rituals), and belatedly give indications of interest that were not intended as such (the ivory bracelet and the razor horse), but otherwise, culture isn't really a thing. Mat and Tuon more or less know what they are getting into from the start, and as the OP says, are aware of the cultural divide and both are actively trying to bridge it. The problems with Rand & Aviendha, for all they are superficially blamed on ji'e'toh, are more a factor of their own personalities and self-images than cultural problems. Again, Aviendha's nominal relationship to Rand is to facilitate his cultural understanding.

When Elayne is bewailing her inability to approach Rand or initiate an exploration of their potential for a relationship, Egwene cites some of the courting practices of the Two Rivers, which Elayne seems to find rather unhelpful, and to be fair to her, are rather impractical in their circumstances. Egwene simply intends this as an example of the principle that there are ways to communicate romantic interest without taking the risk of openly stating/asking to the other party, but what they are overlooking is how culture is a language. Rand would understand what Elayne meant if she did the things Egwene mentions, in the right context. Instead, Elayne & Egwene go with their on-page approach. And while part of Rand's refusal to accept the depth of Elayne's interest and affection for him has to do with personal factors, a good chunk is that he sees a gulf between them thanks to her rank, that she is unaware of.

In Elayne's aristocratic culture, marriage between people who have never met is not unexpected, and her own marriage might be pursued through any method, up to and including high-level diplomatic negotiations. In Rand's, everyone knows everyone, they grow up in each other's pockets, and marital partnerships evolve organically, with both of them knowing each other to a considerable degree as the relationship forms and by the time it is formalized. Basically, he does not know Elayne nearly well enough for him to be comfortable considering the level of commitment she wants (and refuses to tell him). Furthermore, marriage is an economic partnership, and it being a preindustrial society, male physical labor is going to be a significant source of the income for a family, and thus men are conditioned to consider their obligation to support and "do right" by their partners. This is the premise behind the obligation to marry Aviendha which he perceives after their sexual encounter. Because of his imposed vocation to save the world, Rand is not free to "do right" by a wife, and so, in turn, he does not feel as if he is in a position to make any requests of Elayne, relationship-wise, especially anything that might imply a commitment he cannot fulfil.

This stuff is cultural, because it is all utterly meaningless to Elayne's situation. She is vastly wealthier than he, and does not need his partnership. At her economic level, and in her society, the lack of a male partner is not as detrimental to child-rearing that it might be in a rural agricultural community. She is not at all thinking of that kind of propriety, because she has been raised in a royal court, in part by a cosmopolitan teacher in Elaida, and her mother has also received a partial education from a transnational institution. For Elayne, propriety is whatever her mother says it is, and the possible repercussions to her public image. As we see when she does become pregnant, that's not a whole lot. The closest to negative opinion seen is Elenia's prejudicial judgment (largely driven by her wish to see herself as a superior candidate for the throne, and thus inclination to exaggerate or invent disqualifying factors in Elayne) that her choice of lovers is poor, due to the presumed social status of the father of her children. So Elayne is not working under the same relationship constraints as Rand, and is completely unaware of their operation on him.

On the other hand, Elayne is feeling emotionally vulnerable in her situation, having carried a one-sided torch for him for more than a year, and feels that the risk of crossing her mother is all she is prepared to take. She's willing to take whatever risks come with a relationship with Rand, up to and including death (re: Ilyena), she does not feel she is asking too much to want Rand to make the first moves, and be the one to initiate the next development in their relationship. So when she asks him for a kiss, she dismisses any correlation between physical expression of affection and commitment. And Rand's experience with noblewomen and sexual relationships is actually surprisingly extensive at this point in his life, having been the recipient of attentions of Saldaean noblewoman in situations he considers implicitly sexual (though they do not), approached by two different married women in Cairhien at a party, and being made to understand that they want to have sex with him and do not consider their own marriages an impediment. And just the night before his "first date" with Elayne, Berelain propositioned him, claiming that his purported betrothal was no obstacle to their engaging in intimacy. So when Elayne says their kiss doesn't mean anything, Rand has what he considers to be a body of evidence that she, a noblewoman, means exactly that. Where Elayne, in her rather sheltered upbringing (as the sole heir to a throne, there is a greater urgency to protect her, and as a future Aes Sedai, sex and men were kicked well down the road on her educational journey), feels like she is basically putting out and giving away samples of the proverbial milk before selling the cow, Rand thinks she is just using him for fun times.

And that's just before he conquers Caemlyn, and his combination of Two Rivers indifference to noble bullshit and foreign protocols and Daes Daemar tutelage with a particularly Cairhienin flavor, manages to do all sorts of things wrong so that Elayne's coronation and their relationship are almost mutually exclusive goals by the time she shows up.

Tuon finds out that sul'dam can learn to channel, yet she continues to insist that damane should be leashed.

Those two concepts are not mutually exclusive or contradictory. There is a difference between learning to channel and channeling. Channelers are seen as a danger to society, and that is a danger that women who can only learn to channel will never manifest. Tuon's explanation of the difference is rational and true. There is a difference between the potential to do something and the choice to do it. Tuon cannot channel, and unless she goes out and learns how, she will never present the same sort of threat. This was a thing back in tGH where Rand was told that, because he was born with the spark, like all damane, would not be able to stop himself from channeling. Whereas Damer Flinn reached a very old age without ever manifesting the ability, so he is the male equivalent of a sul'dam. There is a difference. You can't slot this into your conception of bigotry.

The Wheel of Time, culture and gender

Something I find really interesting about WOT is how it explores the way gender is culturally constructed. So many of the characters have very strong culturally ingrained expectations about gender roles and relationships, and when characters come from different backgrounds, then there can be confusion and misunderstanding. Characters often attribute the misunderstanding to gender, when it’s really about culture - culture as it pertains to gender.

I remember when I first read the scene where Elyas tells Perrin, “I’ve only ever met about five Saldaean women I’d call meek, or even mild-mannered” (TPoD). At the time, I found that unconvincing. How unrealistic! I thought. Coming from the same culture doesn’t give women the same personality! I mean, being raised in the same family doesn’t give you the same personality! I realise now that Elyas is not saying that Saldaean women have the same personality. He’s saying they are all brought up have certain expectations of women should behave and how they should be treated, and so on.

I didn’t understand how pervasive such expectations could be in a mono-cultural society.

Keep reading

[sleepystargaze]

On Caitlyn's 180: An Essay

This is all spoiler below. But I NEED to talk about it.

What if this is the exact moment Caitlyn puts everything together, including Vi being one of the children who burglarized Jayce's penthouse.

Hear me out.

So, Caitlyn asks Vi what she's doing there, and Vi says, "Trying to save my dad." She has this little "AHA!" moment.

(go look at the last panel of this gif set rn for more context)

That woman just had an epiphany. Furthermore, the way the music swells at this exact moment just feels like it's clueing in on more than meets the eyes.

She clearly realizes, at minimum, that her and Vi are here for the same thing: Warwick. And then doesn't even really question it. This got me to thinking, "but how she do that though?"

Well, she has all the information she needs to put it together, this is just the first time she's had a reason to pull that SPECIFIC information together.

Let's start with the fact that Caitlyn loves a mystery, and the rise of shimmer is a part of her favorite mystery.

Literally, in her giant bedroom, the only part of it that looks lived in is the big map at the foot of her bed. The show doesn't indicate when exactly this obsession started for Caitlyn, but it makes it clear that it's been on her mind for a very long time. Jayce called it "the great conspiracy," so she definitely talked about it a lot. And Jayce's flippant attitude tells us she's definitely been thinking about it since she was a teenager.

Educated guess, I believe this started with Sheriff Grayson's murder. (a) It would be unsurprising Caitlyn felt a great need to bring justice to the person that murdered someone she cared for. (b) It was a murder that would ultimately become a cold case. (c) Silco being the main conspirator to her murder, the trail would lead her to a larger conspiracy.

And from this scene above, we know that Vi is impressed with what Caitlyn was able to gather without ever going to the Undercity. Which means, we know her board was really close to the truth. Afterall, it did lead her to Vi, who single-handedly led her to the answers she sought.

So, why the hell does this matter in regards to Vi being involved in the burglary?

Caitlyn knows that Grayson's main priority at the time of her death was finding the culprits of the explosion.

Caitlyn's parents clearly involve her in the conversations revolving around the explosion at the penthouse. I don't feel it's a stretch to assume she also knew that the council were putting pressure on Grayson to solve the case.

The explosion of the warehouse happened on the same night as Grayson's murder. While I don't think Caitlyn had a way to really connect the 2 explosions except that they happen within days of each other, I doubt Caitlyn forgets this fact even if she does not connect them initially. 

Now you may being wondering why the heck that matters. What does the warehouse have anything to do with it?

Caitlyn was in the ruins of the destroyed warehouse at the end of season 1.

In which she heard this conversation.

Thing is, she was going through an extremely traumatic experience at the time... Then her mom was killed... So I doubt she realized it was the same place nor had the mental capabilities of processing the information. And by the time she did have the capacity to really consider it, she likely had no reason to...at least yet.

Regardless, she's here for this conversation. She now at least knows Vander's name and that he was important to them and that Silco murdered him here.

So, she has her connection here. If she realizes this was the location of the second explosion, she now knows that Grayson and Vander were murdered on the same night. And if she connects it to the penthouse explosion, Grayson's investigation and main focus at the time, she also knows that...

4 children were fleeing the scene.

Seems like everyone knew this within the hour after the explosion. Word spread so fast, Vander knew before the kids even got home. Caitlyn undoubtedly knows about the kids. She just doesn't know who they are, but she has seen them.

Caitlyn has an eye for detail and a mind for investigation. I doubt she lets much fall between the cracks. They didn't leave Ekko's home until it was dark. She had plenty of time to look at this mural, at the 4 children including Vi. Then at the tea party when Jinx starts talking to her hallucinations, she's pointed to...

Again, traumatic experience. Probably not thinking about it that hard, but she did see the puppets. Again, no reason to connect those things yet. But she does now have the context to connect that these 2 other children are important to Vi and Jinx and that they were important enough to be brought to the "tea party."

And because of the mural, she knows that these were real people and that they died.

FURTHERMORE, they undoubtedly know who Vander was by the reputation he left behind.

When that one guy getting tortured gave up Vander's statue as the meeting location, Ambessa's second-hand man, who is not from Zaun OR Piltover, knew exactly where that was. There's no way Caitlyn doesn't also know about the statue. Besides that, she also saw him in the mural. If she's seen this statue, she knows it's the same man.

Caitlyn would now know that Vander is important to the whole undercity. "Well respected."

Lastly, Singed told Ambessa about the man behind the monster.

This one is a bit of a stretch, but think about it. Ambessa has no reason to withhold the information Singed gave her. Here it is below if you want a reminder:

"He isn't a monster. He was once a man. Well respected, at that. Victim of great tragedy. He had a furocious will to live. An incredible tolerance for pain. With him, I was able to make strides impossible with any other specimen. But the mind... the mind I could not recover. The man forever lost in the bowels of the beast, compelled only by the scent of blood. Or so I thought. It now seems I had yet to uncover the right catalyst."

Singed is awfully forthcoming with information once he realizes he doesn't have to hide it from Ambessa. And when Caitlyn walks in on them in Singe's lab, Ambessa makes no effort to hide her current involvement with Singed. AND even if Ambessa realizes Singed is talking about Vander, I highly doubt Ambessa has the information necessary to realize she's literally delivering Caitlyn to a connection to not only Vi, but Jinx.

Caitlyn, however, does have all the information. If Ambessa or Singed told Caitlyn the same info or even more, Caitlyn could likely start making some assumptions on who the man behind the beast is.

She just didn't have a catalyst to put everything together... Again, yet.

And while we're on the topic of this scene...

We learn Caitlyn abhors a gap in information.

Caitlyn talks about the mystery of shimmer, "This led to one other missing puzzle piece whose absence has always gnawed at my mind."

She wants all the details even if it does not add much to the full picture.

She already knows Silco and the chembarons are responsible for the manufacturing and distribution of shimmer. Learning who made it only tells her who made it. It doesn't solve anything or change what she would have to do to stop the spread of shimmer. But she wants to know. She HAS to know.

She wants all the dots to connect and is not satisfied until they do.

So, when Vi says, "Trying to save... my dad."

What if this one sentence was all Caitlyn needs to connect everything she didn't understand before. I mean, how else do you explain that little "aha" head move she does.

There is no way she did not take a greater interested in how the heck Vi was involved to begin with and especially as a child.

Her main focus has been on Jinx: finding her and bringing her to justice. She's been distracted.

What if this is the catalyst, the first time she has a reason to connect all those dots to make what Vi said make sense. And suddenly it all does.

Honestly, it would explain why Caitlyn jumped ship so easily.

In conclusion.

Caitlyn has all the information she needs to connect the dots.

She has the motivations to continue seeking those answers.

She just didn't have the mental opportunity to really consider it... until she did.

Anyway... Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe one "Cupcake" is just not enough to convince me she'd immediately plan a mutiny, but maybe she is that simple! (She's definitely not. *coughs*)

But you know what, even if she didn't glean that Warwick is actually Vander and Vander is Vi's dad in that moment, she definitely knows after this...

So, anyway, I think she definitely knows or is at minimum primed to have the realization. Guess we'll see.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Well if given how the anime will adapt the Manga, it makes me wonder about the savanaclaw adaptation given how many delays due to the artist's personal life that octavinelle Manga came around and is now have overblot Chapter before Savanaclaw does. I wonder if the author will have time to finish it and given how heartslabyul will release in October 2025, it might take awhile to animate savanaclaw.

[Referencing this news!]

Decided to put these together because the topics were similar enough and I have similar advice for both asks. To briefly clarify the second ask, I believe the Anon made a typo and meant to say "Yana Toboso was NOT involved in the anime's production". This is because Yana made a tweet recently stating that she and her team were surprised and honored that they were making an anime adaptation based on the manga.

Now, about the first ask: we are not aware of what the manga and anime creation process looks like for Twst. Yes, the Savanaclaw manga has had a number of delays, but we cannot be sure if this impacts the anime at all. For example, we don't know how much of the Episode of Savanaclaw anime is even done yet. We don't know if the anime team is going to be in talks with the mangaka to coordinate things. We don't know when the Episode of Savanaclaw will air (and for all we know, it could give the mangaka ample time to finish up). There are many things we do not know, so it would be VERY hasty to conclude anything now.

Regarding the second ask: Yes, it does seem like Yana had no involvement in the anime. This, however, should NOT be taken as an immediate sign that the anime will be poor quality or that the anime will deviate from the main story in large (and bad) ways. Nothing of the news we've heard so far would indicate any sweeping changes. This is equating a past occurrence with something that has yet to even happen without even knowing if the production circumstances are even the same between them. The only thing we know that is linking the animes of early Black Butler and Twst is Yana's lack of involvement. This doesn't account for ANY other factors in production, and it's also assuming that Yana's mere presence makes a product good--and, conversely, her absence automatically makes a product bad. I don't think this is the way to go, as it's jumping to conclusions based on minimal evidence and it's putting way too much weight on Yana's shoulders to carry the quality of the Twst anime.

And that brings me to the thread linking together not just these two asks, but a lot of the anime-related posts and asks that I've been seeing as of late: fearmongering and doomposting. Lots of it.

As I’ve said multiple times now, it's fine to be hesitant about the anime. I'm hesitant of it myself! However, let’s not draw preemptive conclusions or fret over what are ultimately hypotheticals. It’s so far off, and we have zero of the actual final product to look at and judge the quality of. I'm seeing so many people make mountains out of molehills, working themselves up over nothing, assuming the worst-case scenarios... 💦 and again, all of this based on little to no information. I can't help but that time and energy could be better spent on other fandom efforts or things we actively enjoy. It's valid to be anxious about the anime and how it presents something we care so much about, but putting those feelings in a public space paints the fandom in a bad light. It gives the impression that we'll jump the gun and claim something is bad before letting the product speak for itself. If you're a current Twst fan that is excited for the anime, it may not feel so good seeing others theorizing about how bad it will be. If you're a potential new Twst fan seeing this stuff, you'd feel very unwelcome or unwanted. I worry this will fester and create divides in the community... unintentionally creating an environment that isn't fun to be in, and that's the antithesis of what I think fandom should be. I guess I'll end on this note: There is a difference between being healthily skeptical and assuming the worst of a production. Please take a moment to reexamine your concerns about the anime and ask yourself "Is this a reasonable fear?", "What am I basing this off of?", and, "How, if at all, will this affect my own enjoyment of Twst?" If it gets to be too much for you, then please, please step away from social media (where a lot of these fears are being touted) and take a break. Do something you like, take a walk, whatever. I just beg of you, don't allow yourself to be consumed by feelings that will bleed the fun of fandom out of you 💦

[writerfromshikahr]

A pre-relationship piece. TW for some discussion of abuse, but nothing detailed.

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Pebbles - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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"I can see why this is your favourite spot," Rook said, gazing out at the bustling city below. "Treviso looks stunning from up here. I never got to explore this part of the city as a child."

Lucanis smiled as they sat together on the rooftop. "Illario and I would come up here and throw pebbles at the people below—until Caterina caught us," he said, smirking. "It was his idea, of course."

Rook laughed softly. "Yes, that does seem like something he would do," she said, turning to him with a knowing smile. "But you should have known better."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the distant hum of the city below filling the air. Then Rook spoke again. "Must have been hard, growing up with Caterina. She seems like a formidable woman. If your training was anything like mine…" Rook trailed off, her voice softening as she caught herself.

Lucanis regarded her for a moment, his gaze steady but unreadable. "She’s my grandmother, but yes, it was difficult. At the time, I hated her. She was impossible to please, and like most Crows, I suffered. But what made it worse," he said, his tone lowering, "was when she’d turn around and tell me it was because she cared for me. It was… confusing."

"I understand," she said quietly, though her voice carried the weight of her memories.

"And you?" Lucanis asked, his gaze lingering on her. "I learned a little from Viago. He may have called you 'his idiot,' but don’t take it personally. If he ever stops using that word, then you should start worrying." His smirk softened as he added, "You were eight when you joined House de Riva?"

"My parents were killed while they were trading here," Rook said, her gaze fixed on the city below. "We were walking back to our accommodations when some mercenaries jumped them. I don’t remember much of that evening." She hesitated, "But I do remember using my magic for the first time—trying to help my mother."

Her hand drifted to her lap, her fingers fidgeting as she spoke. "I would have been killed too if it hadn’t been for a Crow that… intervened." The word lingered, heavy with meaning. "House de Riva took me in—gave me a home, a place to sleep. But they never addressed what I’d witnessed. Instead, they used it, reminded me of that night, to push me harder in training." She glanced at Lucanis, her expression conflicted. "I’m grateful, but like you said, it’s strange to feel grateful to people who also hurt you."

"We have things in common, it seems," his voice thoughtful. "I lost my parents young, but unlike you, I had family." He glanced at her, his expression softening. "You were alone in a city that wasn’t your own, surrounded by strangers you had no choice but to rely on." He paused, his dark eyes lingering on hers. "Admirable resilience for someone so young, Rook."

"I get a compliment Dellamorte? I’ll take it—Viago doesn’t hand those out too often."

"Oh, you’re his favourite; that’s why he’s harder on you," Lucanis leaned back on his hands. "Besides, you have me by your side now. That’d terrify him more—he and I, we have a history."

"By my side? Is this just Crow loyalty, or… something else?" she mused, glancing down at the city. Her heart fluttered as the question lingered, unspoken feelings stirring beneath her curiosity.

He regarded her quietly for a moment before replying, his tone unreadable. "As I said, there are plenty of reasons to work with you. Some, I admit, might be more out of self-interest than others."

"Self-interest? I can work with that," she said, smiling at him.

Lucanis didn’t respond, and she hadn’t expected him to. Silence fell again, broken only by the faint hum of the city. She noticed him digging into his pocket.

"I almost forgot," he said, pulling out a small handful of pebbles and offering them to her.

"I wondered why you were picking those up when we walked here."

He smiled playfully. "Whoever can hit that merchant’s stall three times in a row buys the coffee later. Bonus points if you can land one in the bowl of mackerel."

Rook raised a brow, taking a pebble. "The fish? Now you’re just trying to show off."

Lucanis rolled a pebble between his fingers. "Maybe. Or maybe I just want to see if you're up for the challenge." He tossed the pebble lightly in the air and caught it, his gaze darting to the stall below. "Your move."

Rook narrowed her eyes, "Oh, I’m more than up for it."

She aimed, letting the pebble fly. It bounced off the corner of the merchant's stall, missing her mark by inches. "Damn it," she muttered, biting back a laugh.

He chuckled, leaning forward. "Close, but not quite. Watch and learn." With an almost lazy flick of his wrist, his pebble sailed down, landing with a soft plunk in the bowl. He tossed another pebble in the air looking decidedly smug.

"My coffee’s going to taste even better knowing you’re paying for it."

[jaydude1992]

I'm only referring to the story told by George Lucas (i.e. not Legends or the Disney stuff he was uninvolved with), because I wasn't sure what you were referring to, and because it's gradually becoming the only one I really care for these days. Legends has been decanonized for years now, and while I'll acknowledge that the Disney stuff is official canon, I'm not obligated to ignore how parts of it (i.e. stuff written by Filoni and Headland) are wildly inconsistent with Lucas's story in regards to the Jedi (this goes for the inconsistent parts of Legends too).

If you want to do otherwise, that's fine. If you think those inconsistencies make for a better story, well, fair enough. But again, I'm under no obligation to ignore something being inconsistent with its source material. Especially when the inconsistencies in question relate to parts of the source material I actually like.

In answer to your question, in my mind, what prevents the abuses - at least in Lucas's works and those written by people who actually understand how he wrote the Jedi - is simply that Lucas never wrote the Jedi as characters who would willingly commit their like. In terms of morality, they're on a similar level to Superman; the worst they do is get a little overconfident in their ability to detect and defeat the Sith by the time of the Prequels, and prove willing to compromise on their morals a little for the sake of protecting the Republic's people and soldiers when the Clone Wars begin.

(By "prove willing to compromise on their morals", I refer to the Jedi joining the war effort in the first place, Obi-Wan and the Jedi Council faking the former's death right in front of an ignorant Anakin, and the council tasking Anakin with spying on his close friend and confident in Palpatine. All these things came from a place with good intentions; you could argue that's just another way of saying "the greater good", but I personally think they're a world apart from forcing parents to give up their children in terms of morals).

(I suppose there's also how the council handled things with Ahsoka during the Wrong Jedi arc. I'm not sure precisely what the consequences would've been if they refused to hand her over to be tried as a Republic citizen, but if nothing else, Ahsoka didn't exactly look 100% innocent, and the Jedi had already had two of their number turn out to be Sith supporters (Dooku and Krell)).

Also, this might just be me making assumptions regarding your likely reaction to the above, but I'm also going to state that Yoda and Obi-Wan never told Luke to let his friends die on Bespin, nor did they plan to have him unknowingly kill his father. Yoda and Obi-Wan had no way of knowing what would happen to Luke's friends, but they did believe - not without reason - that Luke wouldn't be able to do much to help them with his miniscule amount of Jedi training if he just flew off to Cloud City. As for killing Vader, it's a plot point that Luke risks falling to the dark side if he does so out of anger and/or a desire for revenge, under which I'd argue "avenging his father" could quite easily fall. My guess is that Yoda and Obi-Wan planned to explain the truth to him when he was wise enough to handle it, but of course Luke's recklessness and Vader himself put the kibosh on that plan.

tl;dr: Writing the Jedi as the kind of people who'd forcibly take children against their parents' will was likely never the intention of Lucas.

When a Jedi takes in a child, it's kidnapping. But when a Mandalorian does it, it's a foundling.

[spinchip]

Would love to know more about Pixal in FYWH

How does Ninjago view her, being the “first” android? (And if you want; what do each of the ninja think about it?)

Is her identity as Samurai X a secret or is it public knowledge? (AKA do people know that Cyrus Borg’s daughter/assistant is sam x?)

Does she join the ninja after the tournament? Actually, do the ninja even become a team right after the tournament? How do things play out in that regard?

Sorry if some of these questions are too big haha

ONNN the topic of Pixal! we're coming into a ninjago that hasn't faced any destruction by the overlord to allow Cyrus Borg to really get as established of a foothold like in canon season 3. so ninjagos technological advancements are as exaggerated as s3, BUT cyrus IS still around and is absolutely making big strides in the tech field. he's a household name and he has built trust and rapport with ninjago as a consumer base. borgtech is SOLID. i think at first there might have been hesitation, but an android being backed by borgs good name puts a lot of faith in people. there will always be people who don't see androids as safe or legit, but overall Ninjago is welcoming of this new technological frontier.

i would also say that Pixal independence is downplayed a bit to the public. her identity as MechaX (working name for samurai x, may change later but i needed it to be different for Nya Plot reasons later) is definitely a secret. people are open and receptive to a harmless android assistant. they may need a bit longer to accept giving that same robot a gun lmfao

the ninja DO become a team right after the tournament! Pixal may not align herself IN the team, but she definitely considers them allies. i think she will slowly integrate herself more and more into the group as shenanigans happen. shes trying to take care of ninjagos troubles and the ninja are magnets for trouble, so it makes sense to hang around them. (Im undecided if she knows zane is also a robot. she definitely knows Falcon is a robot, so she may have some interest in Zane and his family because of that. falcon is incredibly advanced! someone with that level of skill had the potential to make massive, groundbreaking strides in robotics! shes constantly asking about what types of things his father built and zane keep dodging the question lmao)

thank you for the ask!!!

[love-takes-work]

Streamily Signing with Jennifer Paz as Lapis Lazuli and Malachite

Jennifer Paz did a signing through Streamily for fans who bought a signed print. Here are just a few highlights of the stream.

She remembers dressing up as "Bob" for a charity purpose.

She does some line reads that Lapis had in the show.

Lapis was not Jen's first voice over work. She did The Angry Beavers back in the 90s. She's done a lot of ADR work for films. However, Lapis was her first recurring character.

Regarding a fusion between Peridot and Lapis, she didn't think much about that, but she thinks they could work together at a nursery in the barn and being a therapist.

She points out that she can't draw "worth shite" when a fan wanted her to draw on the print, so she just wrote her favorite quote ("I just wanna go home").

Responding to "can you do impressions of other Steven Universe character," she did some callbacks from "The New Crystal Gems," doing "the Garnet" and an Amethyst impression.

In response to someone asking if she auditioned for the role of Amethyst, yes she did audition for Amethyst and recorded the pilot episode for it. They just decided she wasn't the right voice for it. She loves Michaela's take on the character.

She loved the Mary Poppins rendition by Lin Manuel Miranda.

She comments that Steven Universe helped her with her mental health.

She thinks Lapis and Peridot were great as an Odd Couple type.

Her plans for the holidays include in-laws coming in next week and her kid gets to hang out with his grandparents. She loves her in-laws who are coming in from Philly. They love to drink and she's not a drinker.

Can Lapis waterbend people's tears? Yes, Jen thinks she can. Ask Rebecca, though. She could've done something to Blue Diamond with that. Jen loves that Lapis said "I've felt worse."

Jen quotes when Lapis said "No" to "Lapis, fly us in!" She loves that Lapis is a "waterbender" but her humor was so dry. She's getting over being traumatized and just wants others to do their stuff.

She gives some advice for handling adulthood: the only way out of difficult things is through it. If you avoid difficulties they will come back somehow.

She thinks Lapis would enjoy flying a kite.

Wouldn't it be funny if Lapis became Bob the Coach and started a Little League? Maybe she'd say "There's no crying in baseball."

Her favorite character from Steven Universe was Greg.

Lapis did a lot of sleeping and reading to recover from her trauma.

Jen's favorite colors are blue and magenta.

Jen used to not know what "ship" meant in a relationship context and had to find out on Urban Dictionary. She has a Gen Alpha kid now and there are phrases she is forbidden from saying them.

One of her favorite lines from "Hit the Diamond" was "This plan sucks."

Her favorite ship was probably Stevonnie.

She thinks if Steven and Lapis fused it'd be because they were playing catch or hanging out--it would be accidental while playing a sports game.

Someone started a goth band called Cult of Lazuli because of Steven Universe and Lapis. Jen loves this!

She can't commit to saying a favorite song. She agrees that Lapis would secretly listen to Taylor Swift.

She would love Steven Universe to come back but she doesn't know if it will. She'll just say yes, in her opinion it will come back.

Her opinion is that Lapis's water powers are somehow related to Blue Diamond's.

She made a joke about how Cult of Lazuli rocks "because we're rocks."

While signing a Malachite print, she said some stuff toxic relationships and how incredible it was that Lapis dragged Jasper into the sea--but for what? She hopes those who have been in toxic relationships are okay now.

She could not sing in Brazilian Portuguese in response to a request, but she took out a shaker and sang some of "That Distant Shore" in English. She thinks it might be fun to learn it in Brazilian Portuguese and loves the singer who did the voice for the Brazilian dub.

She would love if someone could do fanart of Lapis singing "Home" from The Wiz, or "Home" from Beauty and the Beast--all the music about home should be a Lapis playlist.

She answered what kind of car would Lapis have? She would have an electric car, because as a reformed terraformer, she cares about the Earth now. The car would be a VinFast, "because uh, just because." ;)

She was at one time bald due to alopecia during one of the cons that she had met one of the fans at. She remembers L.A. Comic Con. She was wearing a wig that she referred to "a bob wig." (A "Bob" wig? Heehee!) She found it itchy. She asked Kimberly Brooks and Michaela Dietz if they could tell she was wearing a wig. She was stressed out and ended up recovering through the use of addressing vitamin deficiency. She sends a message of support to anyone struggling with alopecia.

She signs some prints with "I'd love to see your color shining through," "Maybe I'm not alone," and "I just wanna go home."

She shared that her mom's name is Aurora (which was somewhat similar to one of the fans getting a print).

She shares that she loves the Muppets and her favorite characters are "the two curmudgeons in the box seats."

She said "Bob" is a favorite for her and she has a few new items in the shop. Some orders were not made in time to get into this signing, so she wants to schedule another one.

[saintsenara]

For unhinged and deranged ships: Snape/Bellatrix.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i adore these two haters, and not just in a "toxic situationship which leaves dozens dead" way.

because - as the most delusional snapemort defender in history, who would also defend bellamort with my life - i think it's inherently plausible that snape spends his period as a death eater during the first war feeling profoundly jealous of bellatrix.

after all, she's the dark lord's favourite - and voldemort isn't exactly shy about this being known [she wouldn't run around yapping about he "calls me his most loyal, his most faithful" if she had even the slightest feeling that voldemort would murder her for leaking his pillow talk] - which means that, if you go in for the idea that he's sleeping with her, i think you can argue that he also permits her some degree of public physical affection. i don't think they're holding hands during acts of terrorism, or anything like that, but i do think that bellatrix is summoned away from group settings to join voldemort, everyone knows what they're about to get up to, and the dark lord doesn't care.

snape - in contrast - is kept as a pretty clandestine part of voldemort's operation. karkaroff can't think of anything specific to credibly accuse him of, sirius isn't fully convinced he could have been a death eater, and so on.

and this makes sense - it's clear that snape gets taken on by voldemort in a back-of-house role [to be a spy he can eventually place at hogwarts, and very probably originally to brew for him], and is peripheral to the more public-facing, combat side of voldemort's terror. which means that any time he spends with the dark lord is probably one-on-one - and any affection he receives from voldemort during these sessions [and look, i ship it...] is similarly private.

but it's also clear in canon that this order only continues for a few months after bellatrix gets out of azkaban, before things start to shift and she finds herself having to be the jealous one.

from the start of half-blood prince onwards, snape usurps bellatrix in voldemort's public favour [no matter what he's like with either in private]. and we know that she's not thrilled about this - not least because she's correctly worked out that snape's not trustworthy and voldemort's only response is to tell her to wind her neck in.

and we also know that snape fucking loves how annoyed she is - he's having the time of his life roasting her when she cockblocks narcissa by stomping around his front room [the line about "endless reminiscences of how unpleasant azkaban is"... a third-degree burn, i fear] - and that all of snape's best pairings feature that "we literally cannot stop hurling insults at each other, i will not rest until i've told them this next zinger, i am incapable of letting anything go" dynamic.

textbook enemies-to-enemies-who-fuck.

where this turns into enemies-to-lovers... is that both snape and bellatrix are clearly profoundly lonely people. and not only that, but profoundly lonely in strikingly similar ways - above all in that they're in love with someone who doesn't want them in the way they'd like to be wanted. i don't think bellatrix loses anything of her character - her cruelty, her temper, her resilience - if we also imagine her as a bit of a hopeless romantic [her joy at voldemort complimenting her - "no higher pleasure... that means a great deal, bellatrix, coming from you" - which vanishes when he turns it into an insult is but one example] who would jump at the chance to be mrs riddle. snape's unrequited love is well known.

neither of them seem to have friendships in which they're the priority - snape is close to lucius malfoy, but the relationship is nonetheless transactional; bellatrix clearly adores her sister, but she's secondary in narcissa's concerns to her husband and son. they live their lives in service to men who regard it as their duty to sacrifice themselves for their cause - snape with dumbledore, who may like him, but who also thinks of him primarily as a tool to bring about voldemort's defeat; bellatrix with voldemort, who considers her to have done the bare minimum in terms of loyalty to him by enduring fourteen years in azkaban [even though he also thinks this places her above all her fellow death eaters, who didn't even do that]. they both have experience of imprisonment - snape metaphorically, trapped in the school he doesn't seem to have particularly enjoyed and the childhood home he thought he'd escaped; bellatrix literally. they're both voldemort's exceptions in terms of the demographics of the death eaters - snape on account of his social class; bellatrix on account of her gender - which means that they depend entirely on maintaining the dark lord's goodwill and are peripheral to the elite male social group which makes up the rest of the inner circle.

and these similarities mean that they have a pretty high chance of being able to understand each other, comfort each other, and help each other move beyond their isolation...

until voldemort gets jealous, that is.