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vampiriiiia · 7 months ago

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Waiting. Seething. Blooming

(Ch.2)

Summary: An orphaned bastard of House Tyrell is welcomed in Kings Landing as Princess Healanas lady in waiting. In her attempts to navigate the ways of court and gain the favour of powerful men she manages to involve herself with the web of the royal family’s affairs.

word count: 3.8k

Since the day where you shared with the princess your knowledge of flowers,

and in extension, insects and such, your walks in the garden became a daily occurrence. Everyday, a bit before midday, and during the evenings as well, you and Princess Helaena would stroll around the gardens, deep in conversation. On some days, such as this, hers and Prince Aegon’s children, Prince Jaegerys and sweet Princess Jaehera would come with you. On such evenings, you sit in a marble bench that was adorned with ivys.

In front of you lied a moss covered path, amidst the enchanting whispers of the Keeps garden, where the gnarled limbs of towering oaks twist and turn like vigilant sentinels. This path, gently beckons you towards the heart of the grove. Here, in this secluded haven, stands a statue carved in alabaster. For a moment, it seemed to glow with a light all its own. The statue is poised gracefully upon a pedestal entwined with ivy. Surrounding this spectral guardian are blooms of purple and pink hydrangeas, their petals nodding in the breeze like petals like the paintings for a book your mother had showed you, a time long ago. Shadows of children dance under the enchanting boughs, where light seldom intrudes, adding to the mystique of this sanctuary. It is a place where the divide between past and present blurs, and where the whispers of history seem louder than the songs of birds around you and your unusually quiet company.

You carefully watched the children for a while, before turning your attention to the Princess, who despite her earlier excitement to visit the gardens, now stood silent and stoic, like the elegant statue in front of you, examining a dark creature perched upon her hand. Its eight legs, sharp and angled like blades, moved with a dreadful grace. Its body, a shadowy armour of intricate patterns. It’s eyes almost looked a bit sinister as they seemed to pierce through the very essence of your facade, as though the spider itself held dominion over fear and shadows. You had no problem with insects and such, even holding some of them when the Princesses hands had been too full, but you dreaded spiders. You dreaded them more than anything. As you watched her handle the creature with grace, a sense of numbing terror spread across your chest, and despite being seated, you felt your legs crumble also. It wasn’t the spiders appearance that frightened you per se, more the fact that they could be anywhere, and you wouldn’t know. They seemed to know every whisper that had been whispered in the Keep, maybe even the realm, maybe even Highgarden. Most likely Highgarden. They knew too many things, they could weave the most appropriate net for you, trapping you for as long as they pleased, and you wouldn't even see it. Thankfully, your size did not allow that but unfortunately, you were not as big as you’d like, for you were far smaller than the nets life sized spiders created.

Eventually you turned your attention back to the children running around each other, seemingly playing a game of tag. You sat there, quietly with the Princess for a while, till a sudden appearance had the both of you jolting.

Queen Alicent Hightower has always been a politely imposing figure. She had lengthy copper curls and big brown eyes that seemed to be aware of your every move. She had been wearing an emerald green dress, perched with the symbol of the seven on her waist, creating a belt like necklace around her lower waist. Other than the softness of the fabric with a few golden details, she had been dressed simply for the day, as the Princess had told you, no court meeting for the day was to be held. She inspected you closely, carefully, the way you sat and how straight your back was, where you put your hands, and when she was seemingly satisfied, she turned her attention to her daughter. Her eyes softened as she said “ Helaena, would you happen to know where your grandsire would be?” “No mother, I do not. (Y/N) and I have been here for some time, he has not appeared around these parts of the garden”. The Princess had gained a habit of referring to you by your first name as of late, she never corrected herself, but you never took the liberty of using her first name as well.

The Queen looked perplexed at that, “He had told me he’d be with you today.” “Well, he is not”. She sighted, letting out a long batted breath, obviously not very pleased with the outcome of her search. She seemed to be searching for him quite often these days, surely the castle couldn’t be so big. Besides, Lord Otto Hightower was of old age, he couldn’t be running around the castle, avoiding his daughter of all people. That thought seemed amusing, but it was certainly untrue, since most days Queen Alicent was the one doing the running. She rigidly sat down, in the middle of you and Helaena on the bench, “I suppose I’ll wait here then. Your grandsire is most likely to appear at these parts of the garden”. That was not true, this wing of the garden has always been quiet, so quiet you could hear the rose petals flowing under the evening breeze. You highly doubted the Hand had been one for romantic adventures through quiet parts of the castle such as this.

Queen Alicents presence stiffened the atmosphere. While before her arrival there was a silent air of understanding surrounding you and Princess Helaena, now it was filled with awkward small conversation about court matters such as the starvation of smallfolk in the southern part of Kings Landing. That was the one thing that stuck to you the most “And what is the next move to solve that matter? Have you reached a conclusion yet?” you surprised yourself by speaking but the Queen’s response is what truly caught you off guard “It’s truly unfortunate but we have not yet began to attend to that matter, in the city of Braavos, the Iron Bank, not half a year ago had lended a large amount of money to the throne to built that large well down in Rivers Row and unfortunately it has not been finished and they’re demanding that number of money back” did a well really take so much money to be built? why couldn’t they use the saving of the throne itself? “We of course will tend as soon as we can to the starving smallfolk but there’s other matters to be tended to first. You see Lady Flower, the throne is always busy and filled with responsibilities” the Queen added hastily, sensing your scepticism about her response, diverting the conversation to other matters the throne had to quickly attend to. You tried your best to keep your back straight, never slouching and your hands never leaving your lap.

——

“They want to make my brother king” the Princess abruptly broke the silence after arriving to her chambers. The uncomfortable conversation with Queen Alicent had thankfully ended as it began to darken outside. Now at the comfort of her quarters, soundly rocking Jaeherys crib while you did the same for Jaehera, her commnet caught you by suprise. “Why would you think that Helaena?” you knew exactly why. Since the moment you arrived in the castle you quickly understood what opinions Queen Alicents side of the family held for Princess Rhaenyra. Prince Aegon made jokes about the legitimacy of her sons, The hand liked to act like she did not exist but was in fact a distant family member at best, and not the actual heir to the throne. Princess Helaena never spoke of her, but also never participated in debates about her with the rest of her family. You were not sure if the latter one was a direct request from the Queen. You only heard Prince Aemond speak of her once, and the causality which he spoke so hatefully about her had you momentarily freeze in your place.

On the other hand, you heard Queen Alicent speak so often about her step-daughter that you were not sure if it sounded more like envy or like something else. Or both.

Queen Alicent spoke of Rhaenyra in public with a veneer of civility and disdain. She would often criticize the Princesses rebellions and lack of propriety. The Queen made a show of disapproving of her behaviour, playing up the role of a concerned stepmother trying to rein in a wayward daughter.

"She is willful and defiant," Alicent would say, her voice laced with irritation. "Ignoring her duties and causing trouble at every turn. It’s a shame, really. She could be so much more if she would just learn to act like a proper princess." the Queen would continue in a frenzy. It took you by suprise how often you’d catch her in such position, speaking in such way, to Ser Criston Cole, of all people. Although, he never once opened his mouth to agree or disagree with her, displaying a serious and nonchalant stance to what the Queen was saying. It was a smart move on his part, but at the same time it made it look like it happened more often than not.

Queen Alicent reminded you of how you spoke of the gods when you were younger, innocent and more hopeful. When your mother was still alive, albeit sick, and you still belivied. You’d speak in an irritated manner about them, when despite your prayers, they didn’t bend to your will. You’d never stop believing and praying though, always secretly hoping that they’d see your devotion and finally grand you one wish. In your case, you asked for your mothers health. You did not know, not truly, what Queen Alicent wanted from Princess Rhaenyra. You weren’t sure if she quite knew herself.

Your inner turmoil was put at pause when Princess Jaehera whined a little, then went back to her sleep. You looked at the Princess, who had now placed her son in his crib, rocking him gently, with a faraway look in her lavender blue eyes. Princess Helena’s wasn’t much older than you, yet she had her twins at the same age you lost your mother. You knew that at that age, you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to host another person inside you, much less twins. The Princess helped feed them, bath them, made sure they went to their high Valyrian lessons, rocked them to sleep every night and was always with them, day and night, overlooking their other activities with your help. But as you watched her tend to them, you weren’t really sure if she quite realised they were hers. You once heard some maids comment about the Princesses standoffishness, which increased after she got married to her brother and had children.

You reached the conclusion that despite those day dreams always being a part of the Princess, their increase is both a form of escapism. Deep down, she knew that the children were hers. But the weight of motherhood, its duties, it must be very overwhelming. In her mind, they were not her children, they were her siblings. It must be more comfortable pretending she was their older sister, which wasn’t a stretch considering how young the queen was when she had Prince Aegon. Retreating into her mind was easier than truly grasping the fact that she birthed those children when she was one herself.

The Princess didn’t reply to your question, she tucked her son in, as you did for her daughter, and asked for your help with undoing her hair and gown. When she got in her night wear, you started unbraiding her hair. “Has Prince Aegon yet to return?” you asked “As usual he has not. I don't except him to. He himself must prefer where his currently sleeping, or rather who” you learned quickly enough that the Princess preferred much more as well that he did not return to their shared chambers. Her relationship with her brother, despite being married and having twins, never really changed, no romantic love blossomed between them as it had for their great-grandsire and his sister wife, the good Queen Alyssane.

——

Sleep for once had come easy last night, which was unusual. You quickly dressed yourself in a light blue dress with puffy sleeves and fixed your hair accordingly. You walked to the sept, not too fast and not too slow, as you smiled carefully and politely greeted other members of court. The sept was cold, filled with the chilly air of the morning, but the candles as you lit them quickly warmed you up. One for your mother, your father, your grandparents. You sat on your knees and silently moved your lips as you recited the correct prayers. You felt a heavy presence move next to you and start praying as well. You did not feel particularly happy about that, knowing you couldn’t sit in the sept as long as you usually do with another observing you. You prayed for a few more minutes, then started to recite all the other prayers you knew, eager to wait out the presences departure. It did not come, you felt the person move and stand up, giving you a brief moment of hope, till you realised they weren’t leaving, seemingly waiting for you to finish. You finished your last known prayer and blowed out the candles you previously lit, carefully standing up and dusting off nonexistent filth. You turned around to be met face to face with Prince Aemond. It was for the best really, you reasoned, Prince Aemond was unmarried still, you could attempt to secure a match for yourself with a second son, bastard or not, you were still the oldest and one of the only surviving members of House Tyrell. Although, Prince Aemond never wanted you to forget your illegitimacy, “Lady Flower” he started, always putting an emphasis on your last name. “I was beginning to wonder you were avoiding me with how much you were praying” he continued. He was easily dislikable. You smiled politely “Of course not, my Prince, House Tyrell sadly has lots of deceased members” a half truth. The l Prince examined you with his icy gaze, it was clear he did not like you at all, nor made an attempt to hide his disdain for bastards, even if their standing was in Highgarden, the same House his mothers family had sworn to.

“I have a personal request for you” he spoke after a beat of silence.

You held your breath, hoping it was something that was easily completed and would not question your honour, more than it already was since your birth. “Ser Criston, my mothers and your Queens, royal guard has been sent for business on my grandfathers command down in Kings Landing, the western part. I was ought to come with him but my duties do not allow me time to do so. I was hoping you’d be of help.” “But the Princess—” “The Princess has already been informed that you have matters to attend to for today. You post will be filled with some other lady.” He has already planned this out. His words gave you little room to think of anything else. “Of course my Prince” he did not smile or thank you, just started to walk. You took that as your cue to follow him.

After a few, albeit long and nerve filled minutes, you found yourself in the company of Ser Criston and Prince Aemond. Ser Criston was not wearing his usual armour, but instead he wore a dark grey cloak and a hat to match it, trying to cover his appearance. He handed you a dark blue and dusty cloak and despite your initial disgust, you wore it with not one complain and put on the attached hood. They spoke quietly amongst themselves, then looked back at you, then back at each other. You smiled politely, but not for two long, so they wouldn’t deem you as stupid. You were pretty sure the Prince would think so anyway, despite your best efforts.

After a few minutes of exchanging quiet conversation and a few hissed whispers at each other, Ser Criston started to walk outside, nodding for you to follow him. Prince Aemond send you a warning glance before you left. You quickly followed Ser Criston outside, it had been your first time outside the walls of the castle, so you didn’t know how dangerous it could be. But it must have been dangerous enough, for he still kept his sword on him, gripping it as you walked side by side. After a while, you found the courage to ask “Is there a specific reason why I was asked to join you today?” Ser Criston replied without looking at you, with a stern expression staring ahead “You will see for yourself soon enough.” It was unfair to drag you out of your daily responsibilities and to not even inform you why, withholding information from the quest they sent you to, you thought in bitter annoyance.

“Whatever you see today, I do not want you to inform the Queen.”

What. “What?”

“I have been given stern instructions not to inform her by the Hand himself. You will follow them as well. Is that understood?”

You spoke after a moment, unable to move from your suprise at his words “….Yes.”

You walked in silence for some time, passing men, women and children alike most of them skinny, thin, bony actually. So thin you could reach and touch them and you’d feel their bones more than their skin. They looked as if the only thing separating their bones from the outside world was a thin dirty sheet, that hugged their body tightly. A few were laying on the cold dirt ground, most likely dead, judging by the smell. You hoped you’d leave that smell in the past. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. Rotting flesh mingled with the acrid smoke of burning bodies, creating a nauseating odor that clawed at the senses. The sickly sweet smell of decay was like a miasma, shrouding everything in a pall of despair. The back gate of the castle had been at the southeast part of the city, which meant you were seeing first hand the consequences of starvation. There were so many dead bodies, rotting unattended to, that the risk of a disease breaking out pretty soon seemed the only logical outcome. They weren’t burning fast enough, there were more dead laying on the ground than healthy men that were able to stand on their feet to continue this task.

Some were cussing King Viserys, who having been so many years bedridden had cast his curse on the city, to have everyone slowly die like he was. Others cussed Princess Rhaenyra for leaving and not taking the throne to protect the realm. Others cussed Queen Alicent and her court of men, who chose to cut the food supply from Highgarden for whatever reason. To you horror, as you walked to the western part of the city, you realised the wave of starvation had affected not only the south, but the east and a part of the west as well. You speculated the north was also highly affected too. As you thought some more, you finally began to l piece a few things together. The amount of money the Iron Bank lended to the throne had not been just for that damn well, as you were pretty sure the court wouldn’t sacrifice the entire population of Kings Landing just for that. Who would pay taxes in that case? You also knew that the castle had more than enough money to never need a loan from the Iron Bank, but they didn’t want to use the money from there for whatever they were truly using the loan for. If they used the thrones savings for anything, they always had to keep it in account and they didn’t want any physical evidence. The well was being used as a means to launder off money in a way. Your father had explained you long ago what that meant. You didn't want to think of him now.

Instead, you wondered if the Queen actually knew. You weren’t sure if she knew truly what the loan was used for, or the true state Kings Landing was in, judging at least from the instructions Ser Criston was given from the Hand. Oh. The Hand. You should’ve realised so sooner. It seems the Queen was kept in the dark for some time regarding matters such as this. As the Queen you weren’t sure how much she knew and how much she chose to believe certain things were true. How she believed her fathers word on a scale. It must be a combination of trust and of wanting her consciousness at peace. What you knew became your responsibility as well, after all. You couldn’t judge the Hand for doing so, after all the reason you were here was because you acted in a similar manner towards your younger brother. Although you’d never put at risk so many innocent people to keep a lie believable. You liked to think a certain amount of the self-sacrifice they taught ladies like you was still left, or at least some morality.

You looked at Ser Criston, his eyes betrayed no disgust, sadness or anger at the image in front of him. His brows were slightly forrowed but that could be from the smell. Out of all the people in court, except a few middle born ladies, you shared the most similarities with Ser Criston. You both came from low-born mothers after all and knew the struggles that came with. He seemed to forget his roots, though. You walked and walked till you stopped in front of a whore house, deep in the centre of Kings Landing, far away from sickness, pain and grief, here the people still danced and drank despite it only being mid-day. Ser Criston turned to you “I’ll need to you to go inside, and fetch Prince Aegon in the calmest manner you can master. Don’t attract much attention. Quickly.” Before you could answer, Ser Criston knocked on the door and a woman in frizzy blonde curls and pink underwear opened the door and looked at both of you expectingly. She seemed annoyed you noted. Ser Criston looked at you, motioning for you to speak.

“We have direct orders from the castle to bring Prince Aegon back. There are urgent matters he needs to attend to.” You looked at yo it partner for a moment, wanting to see if your words were up to his expectations. He nodded at you silently and you looked back at the woman you with a grunt showed you the way inside. Ser Criston stayed outside and the door close with a loud thud. You were glad for once that the cloak that had been given to you had a hood and that the whore house had colourful curtains covering the windows.

#hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aegon x reader #aemond x reader #jacaerys x reader #helaena targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #hotd angst #dark hotd

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crisiscutie · 1 year ago

Note

Safer Sephy anon here. Yes, non-con.

Sure thing. You guys ever wonder what happens when Sephy is horny during his victory high? Well...

Pairing: OG Safer Sephy/AFAB Darling.

Content Warning: NSFW, Non-Con. Tentacles. Teratophilia.

Just as your weakened body was about to collapse, tentacles extended towards you, coiled around your body, and stroked you with a twisted fondness.

You whimpered, still in immense pain from the recent battle with Sephiroth. Even though you had tried to help Cloud and his party defeat Sephiroth, he had still managed to best all of you.

As you watched your friends fade away, joining with the Lifestream, tears cascaded down your cheeks.

Cloud was the last to go, his mako eyes locked onto yours. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something to you, but nothing came.

Soon after, Sephiroth spoke for the first time, almost startling you. His familiar, velvety voice had a loud ethereal echo to it, as he mockingly reassured you.

"There's no need to be sad. They'll become a part of me... Isn't that what you want?"

A small, slimy tentacle caressed your cheek and guided your gaze towards his ascended form, forcing you to behold the monstrosity he had become. The man you once loved was no more.

The other tentacles that caressed your body then removed your clothing, leaving your body exposed to the cold air.

An enormous, cock-shaped tentacle began to stroke itself against your folds, slyly warning you of the incoming brutal penetration, while a singular sucker tentacle latched onto your clit, suckling it for all it was worth.

You let out a loud whimper, wanting to escape from this monstrosity. Sephiroth responded with a dark chuckle, his slit eyes twinkling with amusement and twisted adoration at your panic.

"Do you enjoy it that much, darling? I can make it better for you. Much better...~"

Before you expressed your disgust, the cock tentacle teasing your folds forced its way into your tight cunt, stretching it to the limit before it's even halfway inside. You gritted your teeth at the sudden invasion, feeling your stomach bulge from the sheer size of it!

Yet Sephiroth couldn't care less. The beauty of the moment, a symbol of the union for man and wife, held his attention.

Unwanted pleasure and aches surged through your body, as the sucker tentacle on your engorged clit refused to relent, matching the intensity of the cock tentacle pounding your poor cunt.

He then fastened your body to his own, granting you a lovely view of him now, sailing through the cosmos, annihilating worlds in the name of JENOVA and your honor.

"Together, we are unstoppable. These pitiful worlds shall fall under our dominion," he declared. Who knew if he addressed that to you or to JENOVA as more tentacles forcefully entered your abused, gaping cunt.

Piercing screams left your lips, the devastation of worlds unfold before your eyes. Trillions of lifeforms were obliterated, the very dimension around you both shifted.

Sephiroth continued his deranged monologue, a veiny tentacle now being shoved into your mouth and roughly fucking your throat.

"My goddess. My queen. My breeder. Nothing will come between us again," Each word he spoke had a slight hint of wicked excitement.

Your muffled screams were a twisted symphony for his ears, one of the many things that exhilarated him.

From destroying the pitiful humans and their Gaia to reclaiming his precious doll and upholding his mother's legacy, Sephiroth had no chance of being overthrown. The cosmos was now his playing field.

You had your abilities to thank for helping you endure this brutal fuck, your belly now distended from the cock tentacles stretching it.

After what seemed like an eternity, the tentacles finally filled you to the brim with his corrupt, divine seed, forever marking you as his.

"Mine..." He said as your body trembled, the cum now leaking out of your plugged holes.

The tentacles were still sheathed inside you even after their release.

His enormous, ethereal wings then wrapped around you like a protective cocoon as he conjured a paradise world for you to rest in.

You'd assume the new roles he bestowed upon you when the time came.

Your will had vanished, leaving you as his perfect doll, forever bound to his divine presence.

Writing this reminded me of my favorite smutty prompt from the HoS AU, so it was super fun. By the way, this Safer Sephiroth is NOT the same as the one from the Dissidia AU! Two different temperaments around/towards their darlings, for sure. And Dissidia Safer Sephy has legs.

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dross-the-fish · 6 months ago

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"Do you know the story of Genesis, Adam?" Dr. Watson asked as he swept away the fallen locks of hair from the floor around the creature's too small chair.

The being nodded, "I know it well...though perhaps not as you should understand it."

"No? As I understand it God created Adam and then Eve and gave them dominion over the Earth," Watson was not an overly religious man but he made it his habit to attend church once in a while and on rare occasions he would even absorb the tired sermons recited with comfortable hollowness by a priest who knew them to the letter but had never in his half-a-lifetime in the pulpit stopped to consider their meaning.

"Oh no, Doctor Watson. That is not how it goes," rasped the newly christened Adam. He propped his elbows on his bent knees and brought his joined fists to rest under his chin, unblinking yellow eyes staring hard at the old man before him, "Not at all. The version of events as I have come to understand them are thus: God created Adam, despised and cursed him, and when Adam fell he dragged God by his wax wings into Hell with him."

Rage, such potent rage and depth of despair the likes of which Watson had never seen on a human face twisted the aberrant features before him and the old man halted.

"That is blasphemous," he whispered.

Adam leapt from the chair, toppling it and seized Watson's hand laying it against the Y shaped stitching on his chest where a heart beat so sluggishly it was nearly imperceptible, "Touch and feel then Doctor! I am blasphemy! I am heresy! Mark thou that I am the very proof that man should not think himself God lest he damn all he touches! If thy heart is too craven to accept the burden of a Godless Adam then revoke my name and cast me back into the wilderness. I shall return to haunting my barren rock and trouble man no more nor it trouble me!"

Summoning whatever steely nerve he could find Watson shook his head and set his shoulders, "No! No, you are here dash it all! I have taken responsibility for you and I say are a man, Adam. Once we make land back in England I'm going to find you a tailor and a tutor. You will be not merely a man! I give you my word that I will make you as fine a gentleman as ever there has been."

The creature took stock of himself, eight feet tall, sewn of animal and human corpses and stubbornly alive after one hundred and thirty years. Then he looked to the man before him, significantly shorter, rotund and bearing every sign of mortality from the wrinkled face sporting a broken nose never property set to thin greying hair, combed in a vain attempt to hide a receding hairline. But it was Watson's eyes that struck Adam, a deep blue that seemed to defy the weight of age, brimming with vitality and such boyish earnestness that Adam could not help but feel a little humbled under their gaze.

"If that is what thou would make of me then so shall I be. A civil man of culture and education."

Watson dared to reach out to pat him, "Precisely! Civil, cultured, educated and modern! Your peculiarity of speech, for one, will need to be corrected. Once I finish giving you a physical examination that will be the first thing to teach you."

Adam did not protest as Watson pulled out a roll of measuring tape and recorded the circumference of his chest. Watching the doctor work in his confident and diligent manner Adam couldn't help but allow himself to feel the barest spark of excitement. Perhaps Watson would finish the work Victor had started. Perhaps with fine clothing, good manners and an education to go with his new name Adam could finally be the one thing he had craved for all of his life.

Human.

#crossover au #Adam Frankenstein #John Watson #Frankenstein #Sherlock Holmes #gothic literature #drabbles

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reighfall · 1 month ago

Text

Warning: Blood, death

Word Count:1.3k

Previous - Next

Chapter 1: Uncertain future

Crowds cheered for the arrival of General Marcus Acacius, hailed as a hero for conquering yet another distant land in Rome’s name. His victory added to Rome’s growing glory, and he was greeted by none other than the Emperors themselves. Rose petals were scattered at his feet as he ascended the grand steps of the palace, his gaze fixed on the imperial Emperors as he approached them.

“I have taken Numidia in your name, that your dominion may eclipse that of every emperor who came before you,” Acacius declared, his voice strong and resolute.

“Crown him with laurels, brother,” Emperor Caracalla said, his voice filled with approval.

Emperor Geta stepped forward, placing a crown of gold upon Acacius’s head. But unbeknownst to the gathered crowd, a pair of watchful eyes observed this moment from one of the palace windows. Hidden from view, Celenia stood silently, her expression unreadable. After a moment, she turned away, her ancillas following her quietly.

Time Skip (A micro time skip)

Inside the grand hall, the emperors and General Acacius drank the finest wine Rome had to offer, celebrating the conquest. The laughter and chatter filled the air.

"In honor of your conquest, there will be games in the Colosseum," Geta announced, his voice carrying excitement.

"I require no games in my honor," Acacius replied gallantly, his tone humble. "Serving the Senate and the people of Rome is honor enough for me."

"You are too modest, Acacius," Geta said, looking at the general with a sly smile. "That does not suit a general as accomplished as yourself."

"Your glory is yours, not mine," Acacius replied. "I only ask for some respite from war, to spend time with my wife."

"Your wife, yes," Caracalla said with a smirk. "Remember the privilege we have granted her? Where is she? Is she to ignore such occasions?"

"There are victories still to come," Geta said, his voice turning serious as he grabbed a sword from a nearby soldier. "Persia, India—both must be conquered." He tapped the blade of the sword on Acacius’s shoulder, then rested it near his neck.

"Rome has so many subjects; she must feed them," Acacius said, his gaze unwavering as he met Geta’s eyes.

"They can eat war!" Caracalla chimed in, flashing a grin and showing off his golden tooth.

Geta threw the sword to the ground, the blade sliding across the floor and clattering near the pool. The motion caused a small cut on Acacius's neck, and the sharp sound echoed through the room. "Your triumphs will be celebrated, as tribute to the greatness of the Roman people," Geta said, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Acacius, his tone taking on a more unpleasant edge.

The general did not reply, but nodded slightly, a gesture of respect and submission.

"Our sister will be in attendance..." Caracalla said, his voice filled with anticipation. "What a glorious celebration this will be," he added, laughing as though savoring the thought.

Hanno’s POV

I sat in a wagon, bound and broken, being carried off to who knows where. From the small gaps between the bars, I could see people tending to their flocks, hear insults being thrown at us, and see bits of trash hurled in our direction. We were soon pulled from the wagon, shackles on our hands and feet, and led into a strange, chaotic place. The air was thick with strange noises—animals, perhaps, or worse.

"Macrinus of Thysdrus, master of gladiators!" someone yelled from the crowd, and cheers erupted from all around.

We were about to be led into a coliseum. "Stay close," I whispered to Jugurtha, not knowing what would happen next. The noise of animals going wild in their cages grew louder as we entered.

Inside this smaller Colosseum, the crowd jeered and threw rotten fruits and vegetables at us. The announcer shouted his piece, his voice barely audible over the hostile uproar. Slowly, a door creaked open, releasing a swarm of monkeys into the arena. The crowd went wild, shouting and throwing more objects, spurring the animals into a frenzy.

I tried to shield Jugurtha, but he—he gave up. Without a word, he knelt to the ground, his eyes closed, as if he sought nothing more than to join his ancestors in death. The animals were upon him instantly. I could only watch in helpless silence as they tore into him, his body crumpling under their savage onslaught.

The beast that had killed him, still snarling and bloodied, turned its attention to me. In a burst of fury, I swung my chains, knocking it back. Its blood dripped from its mouth as it stumbled. But it didn’t stop. It charged again, its teeth bared. It slammed into me, knocking me to the ground, and I fought with everything I had. I sank my teeth into its arm, pulling it away from me, and hurled it back with all my strength.

The animal growled in rage, charging at me once more. This time, I was ready. I caught it by the throat, squeezing with all my might until its struggles ceased. Its body went limp in my hands.

For a long moment, I stood there, chest heaving, staring down at Jugurtha, his lifeless body on the ground blood pooled from his neck. The roar of the crowd echoed around me, but all I could hear was the deafening silence in my own mind. I had survived, but at what cost?

End of POV

Celenia was spending time with Lucilla, like she always does, sitting near a pool of water, looking at the water lilies and fish swimming around. It was peaceful, until she heard the doors open and in come Acacius.

“My lady…” he said smiling it his wife “Princess” turning to Celenia bowing with a smile

“I thank the gods that brought you back home safely.” Lucilla said to her husband

“Thank the army. They protected me.” Acacius said

Celenia only turned to them watching their interaction, the two have formed a friendship full of love. She could only watch, but turned back to the small pool dipping her fingers in.

“Will you be joining us for supper?” Lucilla asked the princess, stroking her hair

“ I must be on my way, it is getting dark.” Celenia smiled at her

~ Time Skip ~

Celenia was now in the comforts of her room, she preferred to eat in there as well enjoining the peace and quiet. Looking out on her balcony the overlooked Rome, the silence was broken, by her brothers.

“There will be a feast tomorrow to celebrate our newly conquered land. And will require your presence.” Geta said looking at her as she stood on her balcony looking out not sparing a glance.

Their relationship was civil, they did not act as if they were siblings caring for one another, but they understood each other well enough.

“I do not like celebrations.” she said blankly

“This isn’t a question on if you will attend or not, I am simply informing you of tomorrow's events.” Geta said to her in an annoyed tone “if you do not want to attend then simply make an appearance, I do not care… But if I do not see you,” He said, stepping closer to her, taking her hair and moving it aside “there will be consequences” he said into her ear.

She nodded in agreement, still not sparing him a glance. “Now that is settled, good night, sister.” Geta said walking out her room and the guards closing the door behind them.

Celenia looked up at the stars, wondering how her life ended up this way. Wondering if it will be different if Lucius hadn’t disappeared from her life, she could only pray to the Gods above, to protect and guide her.

#lucius verus aurelius x reader #lucius verus aurelius #hanno x reader #lucius versus x reader #gladiator 2 #paul mescal x reader #paul mescal

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umemiyan · 8 months ago

Note

OOOOOOOO FUN FUN

Okay so let’s do 54. “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.” from the smut asks with Choso!! You get to choose who’s watching 😈

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / masturbation / implied virgin!choso / based on prompt #54 from this list

HEHEHEHE okay it took me a while to decide on this actually but here we go <3 i haven't written for choso in forever so thank you for giving me the inspo to do it. ily!

“what do you want, choso?”

pulling away from his lips, your question hangs in the air alongside anticipation, frustrations and desires higher than both your heart rates. his lips hover below your jaw, breath a warm breeze against your neck. there’s a lump in his throat, and he audibly swallows it.

“well?” you ask, probing the man as his hands establish dominion over your waist, clutching for an inkling of stability.

you’d riled each other up before, kissed until your lips became numb, even gotten rather raunchy over a series of text messages, but that had been the extent of it. you aim to change that, right here, right now, with arousal pulsing like a drug through your veins.

after a few more moments of silence and heavy breathing, he finally answers, “lay back and touch yourself. i want to watch.” choso immediately regrets that it comes out sounding like a demand, so he quickly softens it with an amicable ‘please.’

he had dreamed of seeing your pussy spread out before him, wet with excitement like the girls he'd researched on the internet. he could only imagine how much prettier you would look in the flesh demonstrating to him how you liked to please yourself, and he only hoped you'd be willing to entertain his fantasy.

with an enthusiastic smile, you crawl down to the end of the couch and situate yourself against the pillows, wasting no time in slipping your clothes off from the waist down and exposing yourself to him. choso watches intently, hair plastered to his forehead with the glue of sweat and his jaw going slack when you spread your legs wide in a grand reveal. it's even better than he could've imagined.

you present a slick cunt that clenches when you slip a finger over your clit, the look on choso's face causing you to wonder why you hadn't done such a thing much sooner. saliva pools in his mouth, eyes fixated on how you glisten, and he wraps a hand around your ankle to steady himself as his mind becomes a spinning whirlwind of lust. your scent reaches his nostrils and it takes every ounce of strength for him not to dive forward and instinctively latch his mouth to your heat.

choso is the one who moans when you push two fingers into your hole, the squelch competing with the low sound deep in his throat. you grin in response, amused with his reaction, but he doesn't see it—he's too busy imagining how hot your pussy must feel, gaze never once straying from it.

you nearly giggle at his sheer intensity, but choso's other hand reaches up to squeeze your knee without apology, taking this moment as seriously as anything else in his life.

"do that again," he requests, no longer ridden with uncertainty but instead hungry for the visual of you sliding two fingers into yourself. he yearns for his cock to take their place, but he first needs to appreciate your body as its own entity before he inevitably becomes a part of it.

#it's kinda basic but!!!! we prevail. i'm trying to get my brain going #dividers by @cafekitsune #choso x reader #choso smut #re: choso #my writing.

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sweetbonniebel · 6 months ago

Text

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Nine

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Synopsis: Driftmark happens, Aegon takes a stance and the divide only grows bigger.

Masterlist <-previous , next->

minors mdni

118 AC Pentos

"Aunt y/n!" Baela and Rhaena ran towards you, wide smiles on their faces. You grinned seeing the twin girls and their parents.

"It is so good to see you sweet girls. How much you've grown! You'll be taller than your father soon." You jested ruffling the locks of their silver hair.

Laena and Daemon approached you arm in arm, their benefactor some Pentoshi lord greeted you as well offering you sanctuary in his home.

"Laena my sweet cousin." You whispered kissing the cheek of the curly haired woman. "Brother."

"Sister." Daemon replied pressing a kiss to your temple and hugging you against his chest.

Laughs and jokes were shared during the dinner held by the prince of the city. You smiled as you joined your family after such a long time apart.

...

You and Aegon mounted your dragons and flew to Driftmark. Tears escaped your eyes, the wind blew them away. Your bonded dragon screeched sensing your pain.

"Dracarys Vermithor!" You shouted letting your emotions get the best of you. Your steed expelled a breath of gold fire flying right through it. The heat of his flames brought you necessary comfort.

"Cousin." You whispered hugging Rhaenys, her black veil covered her tear stained cheeks. She has lost her only daughter after years of being apart. Her grandchildren Rhaena and Baela obediently stood behind her, you kneeled next to the two girls.

"I'm so sorry." You whispered hugging the two of them, your fingers tangled in their silver hair. Rhaena sniffled as she hugged your body.

Laena's casket has been placed on the edge of a cliff overlooking the salty sea. The Velaryon soldiers tied the knots to ensure it's safe passing.

"We join today at the Seat of the Sea to commit the Lady Laena of House Velaryon to the eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King where He will guard her for all the days to come." Vaemond recited the funeral speech. You watched Laena's casket with tears in your eyes. Baela hugged your side, your arm protectively wrapped around the young girl.

"As she sets to sea for her final voyage, the Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughter on the shore." Your brows furrowed as Vaemond stared at Daemon who seemingly did not care that his wife has just passed. "Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood." His gaze turned to Rhaenyra and her sons. "Our runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin." Daemon chuckled.

He chuckled

Anger coursed through your veins. The people present stared with disdain at him.

"My gentle niece. May the winds be as strong as your back, your seas as calm as your spirit, as your nets be as full as your heart. From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return." Laenor's eyes were empty as he started as his sister's casket was lowered onto the depths of the sea. Dragons circled drift mark as a royal funeral was held.

You sat next to Helaena as she played with a spider, her wavy silver locks blew freely in the wind.

"Hands turns loom, spool of green, spool of black; dragons of flesh weaving dragons of thread." She said those words as if in a trance, you smiled in sympathy. No one noticed her gift, the gift that saved house Targaryen from the doom.

"You have a gift sweet girl." You whispered caressing her hair, her brother watched as you comforted their "lunatic" sister.

"Aemond." You said greeting your nephew. "You have grown."

"Hello aunt." Aemond answered ever the proper boy.

"Are you excited for your engagement?" You asked curiously, remembering the news that Aemond and Helaena will marry once they turn sixteen.

"I would rather have a dragon." He responded gruffly "Everyone else has one but I don't."

"Rhaena also doesn't have a dragon... Did you know that Gaemon the glorious didn't have a dragon until the age of two and twenty? So by my count you still have some time." You tried to console your nephew.

"You claimed a dragon at eight! One of the greatest beasts!" He raised his voice.

"Some things take time, Aemond. Dragons are not like horses, you cannot just jump onto it's back and ride. The bond we share with dragons is deep and magical, it's as if our souls are connected." You explained, trying to lit the teenagers sour mood.

"Does that mean I will be dragon less?" Aemond asked voice breaking slightly.

"You are a Targaryen, Aemond. It is your birthright to bond with a dragon, and you will do that. There are no dragons to be claimed but there are eggs."

"I don't want an egg! I want a dragon! A full grown dragon!." He shouted and stomped away.

Everything was tense and awkward, the little boy you one played with was gone. Viserys was under the influence of his wife and her father, he was restored as hand after Lords Lyonel tragic passing that you knew was no accident.

"Sister" Daemon whispered approaching you as you stared at the endless salty sea stretching before you.

"Brother" You answered not looking at him, the stunt he pulled before still itched you. "Have you no shame?" You asked not bearing to look at the man.

"I have protected our niece's honour." He answered simply.

"You are impossible, your wife has just died." You accused.

"She has died along time ago, the moment I have taken her from Westeros." He whispered "I should have listened to her, returned to Drimftmark before it was too late." He said bitterly. You sighed deeply.

"It is painful, isn't it?." You whispered placing your palm on his his back.

"I could never be in more pain then she was." Daemon muttered, taking your palm in his large hand.

"The God's are cruel, even ours." Bitter truth left your lips "You should tend to your daughters." You said leaving Daemon alone.

...

Your chambers were prepared by the maids of house Velaryon. Dried tears stained your cheeks.

"Aunt y/n?" A small voice whispered from the other side of your chambers.

"Yes?" You answered the door, Baela and Rhaena stood together. "What is it?"

"We... Could we stay with you?" Baela the braver of the twins asked, you nodded silently and let them into your chambers. The girls climbed into your bed as you laid between them.

"Could you tell us stories of our mother?" Rhaena asked leaning on your lap.

"Since the beginning your mother was a fiery young girl. She had inherited the beauty of your grandmother without the dark hair and the bold, adventurous spirit from your grandfather. She was brave and kind. I saw as she became one with her giant beast as if it were nothing, a true dragon rider. " You smiled at the memory of you two flying together over King's Landing. "One time, Lord Jason Lannister tried to 'impress' her by listing the amount of gold he could offer her as his wife. It was rather stupid since the Velaryon's were richer than the Lannisters, she said and I remember it clear as day. Are you willing to make the same bribe to Vhagar to reside on the giant rock you call home, Lord Jason? The man paled with fear and didn't bother your mother ever again."

The girls chuckled.

"Do you think that Vhagar will accept me?" Rhaena asked.

"Vhagar is old and tired, when Balerion was her age he laid in his cavern all day, eating what was given him. I do not think that Vhagar will be able to match your delicate nature." You mumbled a bit un-sure.

"Vhagar was my mother's dragon, I am excepted to claim her." Rhaena muttered leaning on your shoulder, Baela nodded.

"Who excepts that?" You questioned curious.

"Father." Baela answered for her sister, you chuckled at the irony.

"If your father followed this rule he would be the one to claim Vhagar or Meleys. They were his parent's dragons and yet he claimed Caraxes our uncles mount, your grandfathers."

"Really?" Baela and Rhaena exclaimed at the same time.

"I think that Silverwing would be better suited for you, Rhaena. If you wish I can take you back to Dorne with me so you can claim her."

The Velaryon girl visibly brightened up, she nodded furiously.

"Please, aunt y/n!" She exclaimed.

"If your father or grandmother agrees I see no reason not to."

"But what of Vhagar?" Baela murmured.

"She will spend the rest of her days, without bothersome humans." You jested and the twins lightly chuckled. "Now my little dragons go back to your chambers."

The two girls scurried to their own chambers, you saw that their mood has been improved slightly.

...

You were restless and could not sleep, you deciding that visiting Vermithor was the best course of action. Castle Driftmark was a dull thing, even more than Dragonstone.

The beach however was empty, only the sound of waves delicately crashing against the cliffs was heard. You wondered if Vermithor has ever been to Driftmark before. The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. You glanced in the direction of the noise, the familiar straight silver hair made you sigh.

"Aemond!" You called startling the boy, he slowly turned around, you beconed him over and he obliged. "You were sneaking off to claim Vhagar." You stated and he paled slightly. "No need to lie to me."

"Yes, aunt." He admitted and lowered his head "But I only did it because I have no other choice!"

"No choice? Do you know how dangerous it is to approach Vhagar?" You sighed deeply, not wishing to startle your nephew.

"I-..." He started but the words died down in his throat "Without a dragon I'm worthless."

"Aemond, you are not worthless." You kneeled infant of the boy, taking his face into your hands. "Who makes you think that?" You demanded.

"Father... He never pays attention to me, I doubt he even knows my name." Tears threatened to spill from his violet orbs. "And he only paid attention to Helaena after she claimed Dreamfyre. What kind of a Targaryen am I without a dragon?!"

"Your father should be the last person the speak of claiming dragons." You stated and Aemond looked up at you.

"He rode Balerion."

"Once." You added "He rode Balerion once, and then he died. He never formed a bond with him, he couldn't have. Therefore he has no right to talk."

A small smile made it's way onto Aemond's thin lips.

"I think that there is a dragon waiting for you." You mumbled caressing his straight silver hair.

"What dragon?"

"Perhaps you should go with Rhaenyra to dragonstone, there is Grey Ghost and Sheepstealer. But I think Grey Ghost is most like you."

"Most like me?"

"Timid, hidden in the shadows, observing from afar. You know I was a lot like you when I was your age... Nobody cared for me after Grandfather died, I had no parents and Rhaenyra was the only thing on Viserys's mind. When my brother was in King's Landing which was not often he made an effort to be there for me, but it is not the same as a parents love is suppose." You got carried away slightly, burdening a child with your problems. "I'm sorry Aemond, I shouldn't have said that."

"I- It is all right... thank you, aunt."

"Talk to Rhaenyra of returning with her to Dragonstone."

"Could you... Could you come with me? I know you are well aquainted with dragons, and perhaps if you wished, you could help me."

You smiled fondly at his unsure rambling.

"I would be delighted, Aemond. We can even go tomorrow." You offered and he nodded his head. "Now go back to your chambers, it is late and you need all the strength you can muster."

The thin boy nodded and ran off to the castle, you felt as if a great heaviness was lifted from your chest allowing you to breathe.

...

You missed your children. You thought while eating breakfast alone. Aegon was probably in his temporary chambers sleeping or reminiscing with his siblings.

"y/n" You heard your name, you raised your gaze from the mutton pie, and fruit that were placed on your plate.

"Daemon." You mumbled continuing eating, he took a seat in front of you and ordered a servant to bring him breakfast. They placed a steaming bowl of porridge with fruit, different hams and cheeses and a slice of the same pie you ate.

"You do not seem sad... Did you love her, or married her to spite our brother?" You asked glancing at the hardened features of your brother.

"...I did love her." He whispered avoiding your gaze and digging into the food on his plate. "Is this what you felt when you lost Qoren?" His question surprised you, not once has he addressed your husband by name.

"I was miserable when he died." You admitted "But I had to stay strong, for my children for the kingdom." Daemon hummed drinking the honey mead. "...I was happy with him, he loved me and our children with ever fibre of his being. How can a man seem so strong only to wither slowly at the hands of a disease?" You questioned rhetorically.

Tears began to form in your eyes as you remembered the years you spent with Qoren. The wet tears dropped on your dress, but you quickly wiped them and took a swing of the watered down wine.

"I'm sorry your happiness was taken from you." Your brother said tenderly, which was unlikely for him. "If I could give you the happiness you long for I would." Daemon muttered, placing his palm over yours.

"My children are the source of my happiness now." You declared "As should your daughters be, they are mourning the death of their mother, Daemon. You should be there for them, the other day they came crying to me, asking me to tell stories of their mother. Then Rhaena said that you told her to claim Vhagar, she is but a child!" You raised your voice "I offered to take her with me to Dorne so she could claim Silverwing."

"Silverwing, yes..." He questioned, passively accepting your anger.

"Yes, Daemon. With your permission of course." You added, the anger simmering in your insides.

"You took great care of them."

"Someone has to." You snipped, narrowing eyes at Daemon "I don't think that the good father characteristic passed onto you or Viserys."

Daemon chuckled and nodded.

"Im afraid not, no. But you dear sister... if I worshiped the seven I would say you are the embodiment of the mother." His backhanded flattery made the anger slowly die out. "Baela and Rhaena spoke of your talk, I already agreed. You helped them greatly... They need a mother."

"Daemon..." You sighed knowing where he was heading. "Laena's body is barely cold and you talk of marrying again?!"

"Not immediately!" He countered "I just... you lost your husband, I lost my wife and-"

"And what? You'll take me to Dragonstone and wed me in the tradition of our house?"

"If you'll agree." He stated.

You held affection for Daemon, despite the horrid things he did throughout his life. He was still the only person who saw you, for you. Actively trying throughout your upbringing, whenever he was present.

"I promise you will be happy. We will fly on dragon back like we used to so many years ago..." Your brother pleaded.

"If Viserys gives his blessings I will become your wife.." You answered, Daemon stared at your features. Silent agreement and happiness etched on his sharp features.

...

"Aemond?" You questioned entering his chambers, he sat by the window consumed by a book that rested atop his lap. He tore his gaze away from the pages and glanced in your direction. "Are you ready?"

He nodded and the two of you walked to where Vermithor was resting, you fixed the black leather gloves on your fingers. The bronze fury bellowed as he saw you approaching.

"This is my nephew, Aemond. We will help him claim a dragon." You said nuzzling your face in his warm scales. You helped Aemond climb onto the saddle, and then strapped him in. You patted Vermithor's scales and without a command he leaped into the air, his claws dipping into the salty water before climbing into the sky, high above the clouds.

"How does it feel?" You asked Aemond, that sat in front of you.

"It feels... like I belong." He answered.

Vermithor landed near the hills of dragonmont, startling the dragon keepers there. You slid off of his bronze wing and helped your nephew do the same.

"Can you smell any dragons, old boy?" You questioned placing your palm on his horns. He chirped and let out a screech, turning towards the misty mountains. You left your dragon and headed in the direction the bronze fury pointed in.

"It is very on brand for him to hide in the mist." You said to Aemond as he walked next to you. "Hiding from the small folk... or Cannibal."

He stayed silent as if deep in thought. You observed his reactions.

"Can you feel him Aemond?"

"Her." He stated and moved ahead, slowly disappearing into the mist. You stayed behind letting Aemond do what he thought was right, and by the looks of it he might claim a dragon today.

A chirp and then a screech, orange light spread among the mist. And yet you didn't feel worried. You could hear Aemond's faint voice, High Valyrian rolling off his tongue. At the speed of lightning, Grey Ghost flew right out of the mist, leaving a trail behind him. Aemond's green cloak flowing in the wind, as he soared in the sky.

...

Moons passed after Laena's death, Daemon stayed with his daughters at Driftmark. You on the other hand returned to Dorne with Aegon much earlier, you missed your children and longed to see them.

Daemon stood before the doors to his daughters room. Despite being dressed in leather armor, Dark Sister strapped at his side he felt nervous. Nervous to face his nine year old daughters. He knocked on the door and entered.

"Father." Baela noticed and bowed her head slightly, Rhaena ran and hug his legs.

"Father can I please go to aunt y/n?" She asked, her violet eyes brimming with tears.

"Soon Rhaena, I promise." He answered caressing her long silver hair. "I- I" He stuttered "What do you think of your aunt?"

"She is nice." Rhaena muttered.

"Aunt y/n gives the greatest gifts. The dresses she makes are beautiful." Baela added.

"She was great friends with your mother." The Targaryen Prince said. "Would you be opposed if you saw her more often?"

"No, I don't think so." Baela the braver of the twins answered for her sister.

"I know you are young, and there are thing you need to know. Despite being a princess your aunt has lost protection when her husband died. I offered that I would protect her from now on." He tried to explain.

"Protect how?" Rhaena meekly asked.

"...By marrying her." Baela answered for him, understanding the situation better.

"Yes." He confirmed. "You are young, you need a mother figure. And you would get to meet your cousins better."

"Whatever you wish father." The twins answered.

"I know this is difficult and I do not except you to understand, but just know I love you two deeply. And wish what is best for you."

They nodded and leaned into his touch when he wrapped his arms around them.

...

"Prince Daemon, Your Grace." Ser Harrold announced opening the doors to the king's chambers. Viserys laid in his bed covered in blankets.

"Brother." Daemon said bowing his head and approaching his grace.

"Daemon..." Viserys wheezed staring at his brother. "I am so glad too see you, it has been too long."

"We have seen each other a few moons back, is your memory so bad you do not remember?." Daemon jested. "Viserys I have a favour to ask of you."

"A favour?" Viserys asked curiously "Whatever do you need?"

"I wish to marry y/n." He admitted, a pregnant silence fell upon the room. Only the crackling of the fire was heard.

"And what does y/n say of this union?" The elder brother asked, thinking of the girl he though of as a daughter.

"She has agreed on the condition that you agree and bless our marriage." Daemon responded.

"She is too good for you, Daemon." Viserys wheezed staring at his brother. "But if it is her wish to marry you I shall give you my blessing."

"Thank you, your grace."

...

A raven arrived from King's Landing, the grand maester of Sunspear handed you the letter. You saw the royal seal of your brother and broke it curiously.

My dear sister,

Word has reached my ears that you wish to marry Daemon. I know how distraught you were when your first husband passed away, if you deem Daemon worthy of becoming your second husband I give you my blessing. I know you make no mistakes in your judgment so I trust your decision and hope that your marriage with our brother will be as happy as your first one.

In return for your endless support and upholding our traditions. I shall give Daemon and you land so your future children will have an inheritance. The Stepstones have been won by Daemon, and are now a part of the seven Kingdoms. But without a strong presence to command the island they have fallen into disarray. If you wish it the Stepstones will become your land you may do as you wish with them. Your children will inherit the seat after you pass and as a royal decree, they will be titled as princes and princesses of the realm. The sacrifices you have made helped the realm greatly, you have brought Dorne into the seven kingdoms, secured wards from the lords of Westeros and aided the royal coffers. I will be forever in debt to you my dear sister.

You read the letter, tears flowed from your green irises staining the parchment. It felt as if he was saying goodbye to you.

"Mother?" Nymor asked seeing the tears that flowed freely.

"Yes my sweet?" You asked

"Why are you sad?" He asked and you smiled, picking him up and placing him in your lap. He was now five and very bright.

"I am happy my dear child." Your sons silver hair shined in the sun.

"Then why are you crying?"

"Sometimes when we're happy we cry." You explained "Your uncle and I will marry."

"Uncle Daemon?" He asked curiously and you nodded.

"He will become my husband." You said caressing your sons silver locks.

"Like father was?"

"Just like father was..."

"Will I have more siblings? I do not want to be the youngest Darren, Ivor and Tyla treat me like a baby!" Nymor complained and you chuckled.

"You will always be my baby." You said kissing his chubby cheek, he giggled.

...

"Maron!" You stopped your brother in law as he strolled with his wife through the gardens your late husband built for you.

"y/n, what is it that you need?" He asked walking up to you with his wife the Lady Qyria.

"I will need your help governing Dorne in my son's steed." You announced.

"I am honoured y/n but what has happened?" He asked confused.

"Daemon and I will marry, His Grace the King gave us Stepstones to govern. I will not be able to be in two places at once, that is why I need your help." You explained

"Will you be leaving Dorne?" Qyria asked.

"I do not want to, but my attention will be divided between Dorne and the Stepstones. For the time being Daemon will stay on Driftmark." You answered strolling with the couple through the water gardens.

"Let us know if you ever need help taming the Stepstones, it is a disputed land. Keeping peace will be difficult." Maron offered, you thanked your brother in law.

"Bloodstone will become to heart of the islands. I believe it will be quite expensive to raise castles there but the payoff will be large. The islands are very strategically placed, any voyages will have to pass through the Stepstones." It was true, that is why your brother and the Velaryons fought in the Stepstones for so long. But now instead of war, the islands will be conquered through alliances.

"What of Darren and Nymor?" You brother in law asked.

"I will take them whenever it is possible, but Sunspear is their home. They will be raised here, as is befitting for Dornish Princes."

"As you wish princess." The slender man answered.

...

Dragonstone

Half of the court of KIng's Landing sailed for Dragonstone to witness the wedding of Prince Daemon and Princess y/n. You were happy to see your family during a happier occasion. Aegon was less thrilled to see his father and mother.

"Aegon." You approached your nephew as he sulked in his chambers.

"Oh, aunt." The boy muttered raising his thin eyebrows at you.

"Sunfyre has been snippy all week." You answered sitting next to Aegon on his bed. He shrugged his shoulders. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"Oh sweet boy, you're not as good at hiding emotions as you think you are. What is bothering you?" The prince sighed and sit up on the bed leaning against your shoulder.

"Nothing escapes you does it?" He whispered, you caressed his long wavy hair.

"I have known you since you were born, Aegon. I have raised you for over eight years. I know when something is bothering you."

"Why is it so easy for you to act like my mother when Alicent can't be bothered?" You were surprised to hear Aegon call his mother by her name. Tears welled up in his violet eyes.

"I don't know sweet boy." You muttered.

"You are more of a mother to me than she could ever be." He cried clinging to you.

"Shh..." You comforted him.

"And father doesn't care for me! He only cares for Rhaenyra! She is his golden child while I am cast into the shadows!"

"My brother is not a good father, that is true." You muttered "It is not fair to you or your siblings."

"I only ever wished for him to be proud of me, but that will never happen will it?" He asked, his violet eyes reddened by tears.

"I will always be proud of you. I have seen you grow to a fine prince, a great dragon rider and cousin and I love you like I love my own children."

"I love you too, mom." Aegon whispered, you kissed the crown of his head.

...

"Blood of two, joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time of darkness and light." Viserys recited as he stood at the foot of Dragonmont.

You stood in front of Daemon dressed in Valyrian robes, holding a dragon glass knife as did your brother. You pressed the blade against your palm, causing blood to trickle. You pressed your finger in the blood and drew the symbol of fire on your brothers forehead. He drew the symbol of blood on your own.

"In the eyes of fourteen flames we are now joined, one soul, one body one heart." You and Daemon recited, two goblets of heated wine mixed with blood were handed to you. You took a swing of the drink and passed the cup to the servants.

Daemon pressed his palm against your cheek and pressed his lips against yours, you leaned into him and deepened the kiss. Vermithor and Caraxes roared circling the ceremony and breathed dragon fire.

...

The maids helped you take off the heavy headpiece that rested atop your brow. Annora unlaced the beige and red robes sliding it off your body. Soon you were left only in your linen nightgown, you hair free of any braids.

Once the maids left your brother entered our chambers, his body covered by a dark red robe.

"y/n" He approached you.

"Daemon." You answered, leaning into his embrace. "It seems you have finally gotten what you wanted after all those years."

"It appears that the god's have blessed me in some sort of way." He answered running his fingers through your hair. "Tell me you did not wish for this."

"At some point where I was young, after grandsire told me of his and grandmothers love story."

Silence befallen the chamber, shallow breaths occasionally broke the silence. Daemon kissed your neck and slowly made it's way to your lips. A breathy moan escaped you as his hands trailed down your body.

"My sweet wife." He murmured untying the nightgown and letting it drop to the floor leaving you naked.

You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips against his silencing him. He groaned and let you guide him to the bed, you laid on the comfortable mattress and Daemon crawled atop you. You could feel his cock press against your leg, you moved your hand down to wrap your fingers around him. Squeezing and pumping a few times.

"Enough teasing." Daemon groaned throwing his head back, he pressed his warm palm over yours and moved his dick so the head pressed against your entrance.

"Daemon..." You moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion. His dick felt different than your husband's, maybe a bit shorter but thicker.

"Soon, sweet girl." He whispered above your ear pressing a kiss against your temple, and slowly pushed in. Inch by inch until his pelvis pressed against your clit.

"Ah..!" You moaned breathily as he bottomed out, he slowly pulled out and pressed himself in one go.

"Will you give me a child?" Daemonn groaned above you "You looked so alluring pregnant."

"Daemon..." You moaned in response "Please!"

Your body moved with his hard thrusts, his chest pressed against your breasts squeezing them with his weight.

"Yes? I'll breed you well, then." Your husband moaned, as you squeezed around him.

You squeezed Daemon's shoulder, bringing his attention to your face.

"Hmm?" He murmured

"I wanna... on top." Daemon smirked and obeyed, pulling out laying comfortably on the bed awaiting your next move.

You straddled his hips, his cock pressed between your thighs. You sheathed his cock in your warm walls.

"Move, please." The rogue prince moaned under you, pressing his hips upwards for some friction.

"I didn't take my husband for a beggar." You teased refusing to move your hips. "I quite like it."

"Careful, sister." He groaned menacingly, putting his hands on your waist.

"It's fun to see you like this, moaning under me."

Daemon muttered something under his breath, and jutted his hips upwards. You chuckled and began to move your hips, bringing the coil in your belly closer to snapping.

"Close!" You squeaked, pressing your palms against Daemon's toned abdomen.

After a few hard thrusts your husband spilled inside, his warm seed brought your over the edge. Panting you clutched onto his shoulder, collapsing on his chest. Daemon chuckled, and wrapped his arms around your naked back.

"You did good, my love." He whispered pressing a kiss to your silver hair.

The funureal of Laena Velaryon and the conflict that arose on Driftmark only separated the Greens and Blacks. After a year Princess y/n and Daemon married and begun construction of castle Blackfyre. During the builidng of the castle many villages arose on the shore of Bloodstone and Grey Gallows. Now that the island was free of pirates trade erupted. The Ports build there rivalled Oldtown and Lannisport. Princess y/n used dragonfire to make the fort impenetrable and quick to build. After three years most of the castle Blackfyre was build. At the foot of the Volcano Dragonbone a dragonpit was built. - From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #viserys targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenys velaryon #rhaenys targaryen

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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 months ago

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Day 25: haunted house

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

The cold of the night seeped through the trees in the park, creating a thick atmosphere that only intensified the chill running down your spine as you and Spencer delved deeper into the world of Kings Dominion Halloween Haunt.

If there was one thing you loved in the world, it was haunted houses. And if there was something you loved even more than that, it was going to them with your best friend. From the very beginning, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves, both of you knowing that even though you were terrified, you couldn’t help but enjoy every second of the experience.

The house loomed before you, an old structure that seemed pulled straight from a gothic tale. The windows were covered in cobwebs, and you could hear screams from within. The creaking of the door opening marked the start of the experience, and you both exchanged glances before stepping into the unknown.

The interior was even more terrifying. The dark hallways and flickering lights barely allowed you to see a few meters ahead. Spencer remained surprisingly calm, using his knowledge and logic to deduce every clue, while you tried to keep your cool despite the constant scares. Each room you entered had a different theme: in one, some mirrors distorted your reflections; in another, demonic figures seemed to whisper in the darkness.

“Spencer, not to scare you, but if you don’t solve this, we’re going to die,” you whispered dramatically upon encountering a riddle you couldn’t decipher. The echo of your words resonated in the room.

“We’re not going to die,” he replied, feeling along the wall, searching for a clue to trigger the next passage. “We just... need to find the pattern.”

“Well, be smart faster!” you retorted, feeling a cold sweat on your back.

A click resonated when he finally solved the puzzle, and the passage to the next room appeared. But before you could celebrate, a ghost—an actor dressed as a specter—emerged from the shadows, approaching you with a chilling scream. Amidst the screams, you pushed Spencer inside, but before you could follow, the 'ghost' caught you.

“No!”

“Go on ahead, I’ll find you!” you shouted, struggling until you managed to close the door behind you.

As Spencer moved through the hallways, solving each riddle in record time, his mind kept returning to you. He knew you were okay, but the adrenaline from the house kept him alert, looking for ways to exit quickly to reunite with you. In each room, the actors did their best to distract him, but he stayed focused, as if he were solving a criminal case.

Finally, stepping outside and taking a deep breath, he began searching for you among the crowd, worried not to see you immediately. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he answered quickly.

“Yeah?” he asked, out of breath.

“Do you like... scary movies?” you whispered on the other end of the line.

Most of the time, Reid didn’t understand pop culture references. But your question over the phone made him laugh because this time he actually knew where it came from.

“Where are you?” he asked, spinning around.

“Watching you,” you continued in a low voice. And just at that moment, you surprised him from behind, hugging him tightly and making him jump in fright.

“You scared me!”

“That was the idea,” you said mischievously.

Smiling from ear to ear, you let him turn around and then wrapped him in your embrace, wanting to make up for how you had made his heart race.

Your best friend allowed it and hugged you back, not taking anything to heart. After all, that’s what you were there for, right? To live the thrill of terrifying experiences.

“Did they kick you out of the house?” he asked, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and relief.

“Yeah, after the ghost caught me. You know? He was pretty cute. I asked for his number.”

The man let out an exasperated groan and rolled his eyes dramatically, knowing that you tended to have these little romantic adventures that almost always ended badly. Then, you pulled slightly away from him but kept one of his arms over your shoulders, wrapping your waist with yours and starting to walk in another direction.

“It was fun going through the whole house, even though you weren’t with me. In fact, getting out quickly to find you was a motivation; I decided to imagine it was a case and that you were kidnapped.”

“How much do you love me” you murmured ironically.

He tried to explain that it wasn’t like he wanted you to be in that situation, and after some minutes of complaints on your part, he bribed you with buying a spooky dessert to get you to forgive him. It wasn’t necessary, but you allowed him to pamper you.

You strolled through various booths, and it was then that Spencer found some pumpkin-shaped glasses, which he bought without a second thought. He looked so adorably ridiculous that you couldn’t help but take a picture of him, which you planned to keep very well.

“Can we take a picture of ourselves? What do you call it? Self-portrait?”

“It’s called a selfie, old man,” you teased him.

Even so, you leaned in to hug him and take the picture, some serious so he could put them in a frame on his desk, and others really silly so you could add them to the magnets adorning your fridge.

You tried as much as you could from the food booths, and he decided to gift you a knitted pumpkin-shaped beret, which would surely become shared property from that moment on. You went on a few more rides, watched live shows, and when it was quite late, you both decided to take one last tour of the site in general.

With the night well advanced, you decided to take one last stroll around the park, not realizing you had entered the dreaded Scare Zone, where actors dressed as terrifying clowns lurked for the unsuspecting. The moment you saw the first one, you felt terror seize you. While you didn’t have a phobia of clowns, you certainly didn’t like them, so it was no surprise that you took off running.

Spencer did the same purely out of consideration for you, and when you glanced back to see him by your side, you grabbed his hand to avoid losing him.

“I fucking hate this!” you screamed, letting out a nervous laugh while gripping his hand tighter.

“This is what we came for, dear.”

And so, running together through the park, amidst laughter and scares, you knew there was no better company to enjoy a Halloween night.

Sometimes, a little fear was all you needed to remember that you were alive.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2024 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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weebsinstash · 11 months ago

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Not me sitting here thinking of the most DISGUSTINGLY SELF INDULGENT shit with platonic yandere dad Lucifer that is actually making my heart hurt 😩❤️

There was a TV series called Lucifer where that devil protagonist could utilize his position as ruler of Hell, the dominion of souls who have sinned, to charm people amd look inside of them to reveal their hidden desires or true evils. He could have them spouting their real feelings or blurting out something they were ashamed of or trying to hide, and he could always sort of generally tell what people were thinking or feeling by looking at them

I can't help but think of Hazbin Lucifer having similar powers. You're a human soul down in his dominion of Hell and he can sense the quivering amd shaking of your spirit when you're lying or concealing something from him. You're sitting around the Hotel depressed and in your mind you think "God I wish I could kill myself a second time" and he's quaking out a shocked WHAT from the other end of the room and it's like, Charlie dude ummmm can your dad READ MINDS? And she's all casual, "oh yeah sure haha there's never hiding anything from him :)" and you're sitting there *duck quack sound effect* as Lucifer has basically now made you priority number 2 (priority 1 is Charlie and you're ALSO a priority for her so... you know...)

Lucifer who finds you depressed and crying and trying to bury all your sorrows in liquor and you're getting so drunk you can barely talk and it breaks his heart as a father, that you can't even walk, can barely string together a sentence, just going from inebriated joy to deep, deep sorrow while still trying to be nice to your friend's dad. He's helping scoop you off the floor as you sob your father never loved you and you deserved to die, that you should've killed yourself a long time ago, and he's asking how old you are, or, how old your soul is now, and when you answer he just looks so pained, "but you're still just a baby" and hugs you tightly as he's basically adopting you right that second

Lucifer who finds you crying/flinching in your sleep like you're having a nightmare and he goes into your head and looks at your memories and sees you're having nightmares of being struck as a child. the devil feeling this deep well of disgust gurgling inside of him as he witnesses for himself how many times you were cruelly abused just for acting like a normal kid, how many times your little heart was broken, how many times your little baby hands reached out for help from someone else only to be pushed away, and suddenly, you start having these weird dreams about being a child again. Charlie catches her dad sitting on your bed at your side while you sleep, combing his fingers through your hair as he all but mind-melds with you and she asks what he's doing. the second he tells her what he's seen and how it makes him feel and what he wants to do, she approves and wants to help

Suddenly you start having all these little dreams of being a kid again, but, they aren't scary dreams anymore... no one is bullying you here... in these dreams, you can run around and play and... and... your big sister Charlie is there. Your big sister Charlie and your dad Lucifer. You're small and vulnerable again and Lucifer will call the two of you his little ducklings as he takes your hands and tells you you've all got to hurry or you won't get good seats, and you feel an actual sense of excitement in your heart as he tells you he's taking you guys to the circus

The dream keeps going and going and it's so wonderful and FUN that at some point Charlie and Lucifer watch your little self break down crying, hugging the demonic pair as tight as you can because you know you're going to wake up and... reality is different. No one... LOVES YOU like you can feel here, and you're just bawling. This dream actually kind of makes you HORRIBLY DEPRESSED because you wake up and realize you don't actually have what you were experiencing, that it's just some weird fantasy your brain is cooking up that makes ot awkward to look at your friend and her dad

Meanwhile in the hotel Alastor is poking his head into your room to see you conked out while both Morningstars sit/lay on each side of you with their eyes closed holding your hands or some shit to form the connection and, Lucifer cracks an eye open to make direct contact with Alastor like "interrupt our family moment or say something to them about this, I fucking dare you" and for some reason, Alastor has a sinking suspicion he shouldn't push this, just this one time, or it might end badly for him...

You're waking up accidentally almost calling Lucifer Dad when you see him because you spend almost every night getting to go to amusement parks and play carnival games and eat ice cream and cotton candy with memories of a sister and father you know you don't actually have, but, wait what? Charlie and Lucifer are actually genuinely pushing to spend more time with you? What a lovely coincidence! You wake up really depressed because your 'family' isn't with you and suddenly Charlie peeks into your room and says Lucifer made pancakes for everyone and you're invited to come and you're practically racing out of bed because, oh boy a chance to recreate Dad's pancakes in real life? And that's his exact intention. He doesn't even fucking care that a certain Louisiana gentlemen is shitting on his cooking; if cooking for the whole hotel gave him an excuse to have a "family breakfast" with you and Charlie in the real world for once, he would do it

You're sitting at the table next to Charlie, awaiting your pancakes that you know were made with love and care, and when Lucifer sets down your plate in front of you, affectionately calling you Ducky just like he's done in all your dreams, you're ready to bawl your eyes out??? You're just sitting there tearing up eating homemade pancakes while Charlie is like about to start sobbing because "family is just so beautiful, waaaaaah" and pulls you and her father into a hug

'Family' huh.... it sounds nice... you wouldn't mind having people actually caring about you and looking out for you... too bad you're underestimating how attached and protective of you they already are...

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #hh #sinprompts

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cocomintcat · 10 months ago

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Heaven's Princess (Prologue)

Hazbin hotel x seraph!reader Platonic series

Part 1 || Masterlist

Songs of the chapter: Slipping through my fingers (Abba)

The fall, God lost one of his beloved children, his son, the morning star, Lucifer. He, alongside his other 7 children, mourned the loss. The siblings all cherished Lucifer dearly. He was one of the youngest. Years on earth were chaotic, God was angry and felt lost. Then, after he felt his duty to earth was done, he secluded himself only to ever talk to his children and seraphiel, his friend.

After 50 years or so of Emily's birth, Seraphiel had an idea. God loved his children dearly. They always brought light to him. Unfortunately, now it is just being the 7 plus him taking lucifer's job. Their work kept them quite busy, leaving God on his own. Seraphiel debated if this idea would work or be worth it, but there was no harm in trying after all.

He brought the idea to God. God showed no opposition, so the plan was set in motion. Seraphiel created a new baby seraph. Small she was. Pale skin with a purple blush, a cute heart nose, purple hair, and the most notable, lively purple eyes briming with life.

Once God held her in his arms, he felt a familiar surge of love and warmth. Seraphial was glad his idea worked. He watch as God coo'd at the small girl. She giggled back at him flailing her tiny little arms.

That day she was named God's little princess, Eliora Sarai Starlight.

7 beings walked through the spacious and bright home. Upon entering the lounge room, they greeted their father.

“So what exactly did you call us all here for??” Azrael was the first to speak up.

“Well I wanted to introduce you to your little sister of course!!”

“Sister?!” Almost all of his children shouted out of pure shock, not expecting to ever add another to the family since the fall.

“YES! Well, I guess I should explain myself a bit…” God explained best he could of seraphiel's idea. He had given it a try, and it was more than worth it. Some of the siblings were a bit apprehensive about the idea. Some still missed their brother, who had fallen. They just hoped their sister wouldn't become just a replacement for him.

Seeing their mixed feelings, God took them to a very beautiful room. A soft yet elegant crib was in the center. The 7 siblings crowded around immediately to see the small princess. She awoke, sensing multiple new presences. Her big eyes gazed at each of the new faces before reaching out her arms to them. Leroy, the dominion angel, put a gloved hand out towards the little one who immediately grasped it before nuzzling it. Leroy smiled down at the little one, putting his hand on her cheek, gently stroking it.

“She's quite sweet isnt she?”

“Haha! She is.” God's smiled softly watching all the siblings interact. Cassius, the shortest of the siblings, immediately scooped up the small girl. Spinning with her in their arms the little girl squealed with excitement.

“She is absolutely adorable!! What did you name her?!”

“Eliora Sarai Starlight. She's heaven's little princess, so I thought the name would be fitting.”

“Thats so cute! Little Elly!” Cassius spoiled the little girl with kisses all over her face, which made her giggle and squirm.

“Ok let the rest of us have some time with our baby sister!” Azrael snatched her straight from Cassius, giving her a hug and nuzzling her with his face.

“What a little cutie! You got really lucky with this tiny angel!” The sibling each passed her around, giving the girl plenty of affection. Micheal was the last to hold his baby sister. Gently, he rocked her. She was tired out from each of his other siblings and their excessive affections. She snuggled in his arms, and he smiled softly at her tiny, sleepy form.

“She's so precious!” Cassius continued to coo over the adorable baby alongside Azrael and Leroy. The other watched fondly seeing the joy she resparked amongst the family. God felt a sweet familiarity at the scene. He was glad he could bring his family back together.

“Emy!!” A small seraph exclaimed, running into the arms of her friend. Eliora had grown significantly in the past 40 years. Though she was still small in stature, the princess had now aged to that of a 4 year old human child.

“Its good to see you too, lia!” The other seraph squeaked happily, squeezing her friend. Emily was 90 and a good foot taller than the tiny princess. Both had become good friends being close in age. After the princess was old enough to walk and talk, Seraphiel started bringing his youngest with him to visit God. The two girls got along extremely well, pleasing their fathers.

Eliora had also met some of Emily’s other sisters. They were all nice, Sera however was always very strict and bit too much for the princess. She lived with God, the Creator, and even he wasn't so strict with everything. Still, a good bond had formed between the young princess and the youngest seraphim daughter.

For a child, Eliora was very well behaved. She rarely got into any trouble, and most of the time, it was because she followed others when they got into trouble. She'd usually sit and watch others from her father's lap or side. If she was with her siblings, she'd maybe ask a question or two about what she had observed, but other than that, she was easily entertained by watching others. She was quite curious about things, but she wasn't so curious as to figure it out for herself.

“Daddy, whats the bible?”

“Why do you want to know little one?”

“I overheard some angels talking about it.”

“Its a book on Heaven and early Earth written by humans, you know the ones that some call winners. The angels that once lived on earth.”

“Oh? Can you tell me more about it?” Eliora now was 60. She knew a bit about heaven, earth, and winners but not a lot. Her family discussed what age each topic would be appropriate to explain to her. The fall she could learn once she reached 100 along with hell, but for now, just some of heaven and earth was allowed.

God proceeded to tell Eliora a bit about eden before Eve ate the fruit. He also left out Lilith. Mostly, he told her about all the animals, and here he learned her absolute adoration for all animals. He couldn't say he was all that surprised with her sweet, loving nature.

Eliora's 80th birthday was soon. She was currently out with Micheal to go on a cute lunch date. He loved treating her to these special outings. The place was a nice little restaurant owned by a sweet elderly winner who was fairly new. The restaurant dabbled in multiple styles of southern cuisines, as Micheal had told Eliora. The restaurant staff were all southern winners who agreed to join the sweet lady's team to bring a bit of old comfort to their new home. It was a popular lunch place among many new winners. Eliora and Micheal, being heaven born, asked the server for recommendations. They ended up with (your choice ;)) and some beignets for dessert.

“Wow didn't expect Mr. Head Angel Micheal to be out here having lunch with some kid. Fuck, your baby mama leave you huh? That must suck haha!” A man with a strange mask said. Eliora's nose scrunched at the way he talked to her brother.

“Adam i suggest you watch your language. As for the kid shes my little sister Eliora.”

Eliora politely waves at the man before going back to eating.

“Sister? I thought your familial editions ended after the fall?”

“She was given to us about 80 years ago.”

“damn so she really is a little squirt.”

Micheal was annoyed and managed to get Adam to say his goodbyes and leave.

“Elly two things. First don't listen or repeat any new words you hear from Adam. Second I'm sorry we got interrupted.”

Luckily, the rest of the lunch was peaceful and delightful. Eliora said she'd like to go to the restaurant again, Micheal decided to let his siblings know about it if they were to take her out to eat.

Soon Eliora’s 80th birthday passed. She had met Adam a few more times, mostly when she was out with Sera and Emily. Eventually, Adam was asked, Sera had an emergency to attend to, to watch both Emily and Eliora. He wasn't too happy but agreed. He decided to teach them electric guitar while they waited for Sera to return.

“So you hold it like this - yup, good job, squirt.” Adam started with teaching Emily. She struggled but had fun learning. Next, it was Eliora's turn. She had been watching in amazement. She left Adam speechless with how fast she picked up how to play. He decided to teach her a few more rock instruments, which she grasped the basics almost immediately.

‘yo Micheal wtf is your sister on. Sera is using me as an emergency babysitter and so I taught the 2 tinys some instrumental lessons and ur sister knows the basics to like 3 intruments’

‘what?’

‘yeah, bass, electric guitar and drums’

‘...’

Soon enough, Sera was back. Micheal had let his family know what Adam sent him and his theory. They decided to test it, and it was correct. Eliora’s heavenly gift was music related. She also told them how it also incorporated dance after they explained what heavenly gifts were. A celebration was held for the little princess. Adam was invited to which he gifted her some rock instruments, while her siblings gifted all sorts of traditional and modern instruments. Gabriel, however, gifted her dance shoes of all types. Emily was extremely excited and insisted the princess put on a performance for her birthday as a gift.

Over the next 60 years, Eliora practiced her heavenly gifts. She also became close to Adam, and he luckily learned to tone down his rude behavior around her. Anytime he took her around heaven, he'd put her on his shoulders or drape a wing over her like a brother resting an arm on their shorter siblings head.

Eliora had 40 years since learning about the Fall and Hell. She asked each sibling about their experience and about Lucifer. She tried to ask Adam but soon learned that it was a sore subject for him.

Eliora's relationship with God changed with the years, too. They're close, and hes a good father, but the realization of her growing up is starting to make him feel down. She tries her best to assure him that no matter how old she gets, she'll always be his little girl and stay in heaven by his side. Luckily, as long as she was around, his depression seemed to not be too bad. However, with age comes responsibility. She doesn't do any intense work or even a heavenly job, but rather, she observes others work in heaven. From each of her brothers to the seraphim. She didn't really know what she wanted to do, nor was there really a job that she was needed for aside from assisting to lighten others' workloads. Eliora also spent a good amount of time performing for others in heaven, dancing and singing to lift others' spirits or soothe new spirits. That's actually how Eliora made new friends. One went by the name Biatreh, but Eliora called her Bee.

More notes on god and 7 heavenly virtues, mostly based on the art by or for who i assume is @apieceofheaven

I believe cassius is by mika_ji_ on X, they commissioned artists for their design so I can assume as they're the only person I found art of that exact cassius design!! (I love all the designs I hope yall like the ones I chose as reference since we don't know any of their cannon designs)

Also context seraphiel is head of seraphim family in this version, so sera and Emily are sisters (there so many versions of heaven and the names so I'm going with what ones suit this story best and I kinda like the idea of this)

Also name meaning "God is my light" "princess" and obviously starlight is English so you can assume why I chose that <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #mintysseraphreader #platonic hazbin hotel #Spotify

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thepaperpanda · 1 year ago

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Warnings: smut w/o plot, master kink, blindfold, leash, oral (m & f receiving), anal fingering, dirty talk, fem!reader

Synopsis: Sukuna takes immense pleasure in indulging in playful interactions with his beloved human plaything

Author: @doumadono A/N: Here is my latest contribution to our Kinktober '23 Collaboration. I sincerely hope that you derive great enjoyment from it. Today’s prompt: leash

Masterlist

From the shadows, a chill embraces your skin as a cold piece of leather gracefully encircles your neck. The whispered command reaches your ears, coaxing a mischievous smile to dance upon your lips, “Rule #1, human whore.”

Swiftly, you shed your shirt and pants, casting aside the last remnants of your modesty, baring your form to the world.

Rule #1 - when the collar graces your neck, your garments yield to the ground.

Kneeling obediently, wrists offered to the sides, you await the embrace of leather cuffs, ready to submit to their firm hold.

Sukuna's presence envelopes you as he slides the cuffs into place, and you offer gratitude, your voice hushed, "Thank you, Sukuna.”

Yet, without warning, searing pain surges across your right cheek. The command tears through the air, a stark reminder of your transgression. “Rule #2!” Sukuna yells.

“Rule #2 - Sukuna does not exist at the same time the collar does. When the collar is on, you will be referred to him as Master. Anything else is grounds for punishment,” you recite.

"You see, Y/N? You can be a good slave, you just need to want it," he utters, his satisfaction evident more in the comprehension of his dominion than in any delight derived from your presence. With deliberate care, he adorns your ankles in leather cuffs, issuing the decree for you to rise.

You comply, pivoting to face him, your first true glimpse of him since a long time. Clad in naught but snug boxers, he exposed his entirety to any observer's prying eyes. Almost instinctively, you found yourself tallying his chiseled abdominal muscles within the recesses of your mind.

He reaches behind him, and he retrieves a leash, fastening it securely to your leather collar. A rough tug guides you into his sanctum, where a peculiar sight, previously unnoticed, now beckons – a suspended chain descends from the ceiling.

"Hands aloft, my sweet human slut," Sukuna decrees.

You oblige without hesitation, your cuffs attaching to the suspended chain. This, you cherished the most – the segment he referred to as playtime, where you metamorphosed into a pliable puppet, surrendered wholly to his unrestrained whims.

Sukuna's lips descend upon your neck, igniting an exquisite symphony of sensations that ripples through your body. Each kiss is a tantalizing promise, and you can't suppress the instinctive squirm of excitement that coursed through you. His path of seduction continues, a slow, deliberate journey down your chest, where his lips pauses, lingering temptingly over your aroused nipples.

The world around you seems to fade into insignificance as Sukuna traces his way further south, his kisses setting your skin ablaze with longing. Finally, his destination is reached, and his lips meet your slick, aching core. With a deft touch, he kisses around it while firmly grasping the plush flesh of your ass, sending waves of pleasure through you. A languorous, teasing lick up your slit follows, culminating in an intoxicating kiss on your clitoris before he withdraws, leaving you craving more.

Sukuna's chuckle, a wicked melody, pierces the air as he circles around you, positioning himself near your ass. Without warning, his skilled fingers find their way into your tight asshole, eliciting a gasp of pure pleasure from your trembling lips. He works his calloused fingers in and out of you, watching you scream just for him.

Soon, Sukuna rises, and a blindfold descendes over your eyes, shrouding your senses in anticipation. "My master," you whisper. “You’re so good to me, master.”

The subtle sound of clips being undone from above reverberates in your ears, a signal for you to lower your arms. Eagerly, you comply, yearning to be bound, to surrender completely to Sukuna's mastery.

He clips your wrists together, and you instinctively place them before you, tantalizing thoughts of self-indulgence dancing through your mind.

But Sukuna, ever the master of your desires, anticipates your thoughts with an air of authority. "If you even try to play with that little cunt of yours," he warns, "expect punishment." His grip on your leash tightens, and he guides you, blinded by the fabric that concealed your vision, to what you can only surmise as his throne.

A sharp slap on your exposed ass commands you to kneel. Sukuna's dominance is an intoxicating elixir, and as you kneel before him, you can't help but long for the thrilling journey that lay ahead.

With an eager grin, your anticipation heightens as you know exactly what's about to unfold.

Sukuna's hand gently but firmly guides the back of your head, directing your lips towards his massive dick. His physique is undoubtedly impressive, but it's his imposing cock that stands out as his most remarkable physical attribute, in your opinion.

As your lips make contact with the warm, throbbing head of his member, an immediate surge of desire courses through you, and you moan. The salty taste of pre-cum teases your senses, and you embark on the tantalizing journey, taking his length into your mouth inch by inch. With each passing moment, you feel the throbbing presence, stopping at about halfway when it grazes the back of your throat. You've never quite managed to take the entirety of him before, but tonight feels different — it's a night of potential conquest.

Sukuna maintains a steady pressure on your head as you draw in a deep breath through your nose, preparing for the daring plunge that lies ahead. As his pulsating cock advances deeper, you begin to feel a sensation of lightheadedness creeping in. Lost in the intense moment, you lose track of how far you've come, your singular focus on taking even more of him inside.

Suddenly, the sensation of his skin brushing against the tip of your nose snaps you out of your passionate trance. Gasping for much-needed air, you peel your head away from his length, a triumphant grin playing upon your lips, drool dripping down on your tits - you've achieved what you set out to do!

You can feel the undeniable assurance that he relishes the upward pull of your leash, a silent affirmation of his desire. As you rise to your feet, you're swiftly guided onto his regal throne, your body effortlessly placed there. Your legs find themselves hoisted upward, draped over his robust, sinewy shoulders, and the sultry sound of his grunts fills your ears. Without any warning, he shoves his dick in your pussy, and you let out a shout. "Fuck, master, harder!" You somehow manage to get out in one quick breath before returning to moaning.

He grabs your leash and uses it as leverage as he pumps his massive shaft into you. Sukuna begins going faster and you are in complete ecstasy, barely able to stop squealing to breathe. His balls slap against your cunt, wet noises fill the room.

You feel him pull out of your cunny. With a tug of the leash, Sukuna forces you back on your knees. “Open your filthy mouth, bitch,” he orders. Hs dick is placed in your mouth. you barely give it a lick before his huge load shoots into your mouth, some of it dribbling out of the corners of your mouth. You swallow all you can, licking your lips after.

"Good slut," Skuna says, clearly satisfied. He slips one of his hands between your parted thighs to rub fast circles on your swollen clitoris. He then pulls the blindfold off of you and you grin up at him shyly. Sukuna's voice drips with approval as he can’t help but wear a sly, mischievous grin. "Impressive work, my obedient slave. You've truly outdone yourself. Well done fulfilling Rule #3.”

Rule #3 - ensure the master's desires are consistently satisfied.

323 notes · View notes

kmomof4 · 6 months ago

Text

Return to Me: A New Fic for CSSNS24

Here is my second fic for the final @cssns!!

Ohhhhhh, I am SO EXCITED to share this fic with you!! I have to tell y'all, I thought I had an idea of what the original Dracula story looked like, and that idea is what inspired this fic. But turns out, I had no idea what Dracula was really about, which shouldn't have surprised me since I've never read the book nor seen any Dracula movie. Too much of a wimp... But anyway, that idea is where this fic came from, even if the idea bore almost no resemblance to the original story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

@snowbellewells and @hollyethecurious deserve all the love and long distance internet hugs for their beta work on this fic. They both had suggestions and insights that made it so much better!!! Thank you so much, ladies!!!

@motherkatereloyshipper did her magic AGAIN on the artwork!! Isn't it gorgeous? Please give her ALL the love!!!

Summary: Vampire Killian Jones has been waiting for his bride to return to him for 250yrs, and now that she has, there are a couple of obstacles that must be overcome before they can truly be together. Will they succeed?

*Spoiler Alert*

Of course they will. Happy endings are ALWAYS guaranteed with me...

Words: 7300

Rating: M for violence and smut

Tags: CSSNS24, Vampires, Reincarnation, TLK, Happy Ending, Temporary Major Character Death

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza

@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling

@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones

@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Return to Me

Queen Emma stood at the window in the highest tower of the castle she called home and watched as her love led their army away to fight King Malcolm - the despot of a cobbled together kingdom some leagues away, who’d now turned his sights on adding her husband’s small kingdom to his dominion.

She had no doubt that Killian would ultimately emerge victorious, but she couldn’t help the dread that squeezed her heart as she watched him march away, leading his men into battle. Their kingdom was small but prosperous, their people strong, loyal, and eager to defend their homeland and their Sovereign from the aggression of a very well-known and universally hated tyrant. The people of Malcolm’s kingdom were little more than slaves to his oppression, with no real strength or motivation, other than fear, to conquer strong and well-defended lands.

There was nothing she could do but hope and pray for his safe return to her, so she turned away from the window and prepared herself for the day ahead. She was no stranger to duty and was ready to fulfill hers while her beloved was away. It was important for the remaining people in her kingdom to see and to know that their welfare would not suffer while their Sovereign was absent. And that duty fell now to Emma alone. Just as her husband wouldn’t fail their kingdom, she would prevail in her charge as well.

Many hours later, a large hand slammed over Emma’s mouth, waking her from a sound sleep. The strangled scream that burst from her was muffled both by the offending appendage and the way she struggled within her assailant’s grasp. It was only moments before the hand was replaced with a gag that was stuffed in her mouth and a bag placed over her head. A strong arm was wrapped around her middle as she did everything she could to escape. There were several of them, as evidenced by the grasping hands trying to grab her flailing limbs. They were finally successful, and her hands and legs were bound securely as she was carried through the silent halls of the castle. The guards who should have defended their queen had obviously been dealt with when her kidnappers approached her chambers.

They emerged into the night, evidenced by the slight breeze against her bare arms. She was unceremoniously thrown into a cage of some sort - the wooden bars solid and tearing at her exposed skin. She tried to stand in her prison as, with a jerk, they began to move, but her tied hands and feet made that impossible. She fell into a heap, tears of pain and fear filling her eyes.

Still blinded by the bag over her head - the stink of it making it difficult to draw a deep breath - Emma tried her best to keep her wits about her and not panic.

Who were these men and where were they taking her?

~*~*~

She must have fallen asleep at some point in their journey, because she was jerked into wakefulness when they came to a sudden stop. The air didn’t seem as close now as when they set out from the castle, and the sounds of many horses and low murmurs among the clanking of iron told her she was in the camp of an army. King Malcolm must have sent men to kidnap her to give him an advantage in the coming battle. She could hear her captors dismounting and coming to the door of her cage.

She positioned herself as far away from the door as she possibly could. There was blessed little hope for escape, but she wouldn’t make it easy for them. The gate of her prison was opened and, from the lurching tilt of the cage, she knew the man who’d just climbed inside was quite large. She held her breath waiting for him to put his hands on her. She suppressed a shudder of revulsion as a large hand wrapped around her bound ankles and began to pull her forward. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as his stench reached her. The moment she perceived that she was close enough, she pulled her head back and then forcefully jerked it forward, hoping beyond hope that she’d make contact with some tender part of her aggressor’s anatomy.

A sickening crunch and a howl of pain reached her ears a moment later. The hand around her ankles disappeared, and Emma began kicking her legs, trying to keep anyone else from laying their hands on her person. But her victory was short-lived. Similar to the night before, strong arms wrapped around her middle and hauled her bodily out of the cage she’d traveled in.

She twisted and flailed as much as she could while in her captor’s grasp, until she was put down on her feet and tied securely to some kind of post or tree. Only then was the bag over her head removed.

She blinked furiously against the bright morning sunlight that was just cresting the hill on which she stood. Once her eyes focused, she could see the army bearing the colors of her kingdom on the opposite hill, on the other side of a small valley where the two armies would presumably meet in battle. The army and her beloved were too far away to see clearly, but she now knew with certainty who had kidnapped her and also had a pretty good idea of his plans for her.

She turned her head to the side to see King Malcolm, a gloating sneer on his face. Finally seeing him in person rather than conjuring him in her mind's eye, he wasn’t nearly as impressive as the tales made him out to be. He was only slightly taller than she was - certainly not as tall as Killian - stocky, and with straight hair the color of dirt. His teeth were yellow, though the beard and mustache he sported was neatly trimmed.

He stroked his chin as he moved toward her. “It’s a shame that I’ve already bound myself to Lady Fiona,” he mused, his sneer turning lascivious as he looked her up and down. “You’d make quite a lovely bride…”

His words came to a sudden stop when Emma spit in his face. He roughly grabbed her chin in his hand and moved closer to her, his face inches from her own. He stank, like the rest of his men, and Emma was glad she’d had nothing to eat for hours, or she would surely lose it from the foulness invading her nostrils.

“Now you listen here, you draggle-tail.” The sneer was back in full force, and Emma glared with all the animosity she held in her heart for this foul coward of a man. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I want to be sure King Killian sees what happens to those who defy me.” He turned away from her, and over his shoulder she could just see the line of her kingdom’s army charging down the hill toward the valley.

They were too far. He was too far. He’d never reach her in time. A calm resolve settled about her shoulders. King Malcolm intended to kill her to punish Killian. She could see him now at the front of the army, though he was still too far to make out any details of his beloved face.

She thought back over the past weeks and months of their lives together. Killian approaching her father to arrange their marriage. The flutter in her heart and instant connection she felt with him when she saw him for the first time as she entered the church to join her life to his. After their wedding, when she was escorted to her chambers - Killian explaining that he did not expect consummation of their marriage when they’d only met a few hours ago at the altar - turning to her husband and informing him that she expected consummation and would be sharing his bed henceforth. Killian’s affectionate appellation the exchange engendered. The days, and nights, since then, the love and happiness they’d found together.

She gasped in pain as the blade King Malcolm carried found its mark. Numbness spread through her body from the fatal wound as her lifeblood spilled to the ground below.

She could see Killian now, far enough ahead of the main line of the army, even as darkness encroached on her vision. His scream of anguish reached her ears even as she sagged against her bonds, her strength failing her. Her vision was blurring, but she struggled to keep her eyes on him until the last possible moment.

I love you, Killian.

Then her eyes closed and Emma knew no more.

~*~*~

Many, MANY years later

Killian awoke from his slumber at dusk, yet another long and lonely night stretched out before him. No different from every other night. He sighed, melancholy settling on his shoulders like a cloak. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this lonely existence. But when he thought of the future - the future he was waiting for, that he’d been promised - he knew he could wait forever. To the end of the world, or time.

As he moved through the corridors of the castle, something came over him. He could smell a freshness in the air, a sense of anticipation that rivaled the longing for spring when the first crocuses and snowdrops pushed through the frozen ground.

Turning his attention to the village below his castle, he sent forth his preternatural hearing to try and locate the source of this difference in the air. The village was growing quiet as shopkeepers closed their doors, children were called inside, and families gathered around the table for the evening meal. All was as it should be. As King of this tiny kingdom, he took his duty to see to the welfare of his people seriously. Just as he had during his days of life. Even if it wasn’t strictly necessary any longer.

The inn on the edge of the village drew his attention as he focused in on the newcomer who’d just entered the common room. The kingdom didn’t have visitors. Since the day his existence had changed, no one but those specifically traveling here for some reason had ever come. So this man had a reason for being here, and Killian needed to know what it was. The man’s voice had an oddly familiar huskiness to it - something about the cadence and inflection, the way he uttered the words more than the words themselves - that made Killian want - no, need - to see exactly who spoke.

With a wave of his hand, he transformed into a bat and quickly flew down to the large pine tree in the open courtyard of the inn. This particular perch would give him a good vantage point to see inside both the stables and the common room, as well as many of the private rooms inside, in case he wasn’t immediately able to put eyes on the speaker who had brought him down to the village in the first place.

He hung upside down from one of the lower boughs of the tree, peering inside the common room, when the freshness of the air he’d noticed earlier permeated his concentration causing him to turn his attention to the stables. An involuntary gasp in the form of a high pitched squeak- too high for humans to hear- left him as his eyes beheld his love for the first time in centuries.

His shock was profound as he transformed back to himself and hid in the shadows of the huge tree. Blood tears filled his eyes as they eagerly drank in everything about his Swan - his pet name for his beloved bride because of her beauty and fierceness if provoked. Long golden hair that curled slightly was gathered at the crown of her head, but still hung down to her shoulder blades. His keen eyesight could see the green of her eyes and even the dimples on her chin and on either side of her full pink mouth that he’d traced many times with his tongue in the throes of passion. It was all the time he had before she entered the common room of the inn, shutting the door tightly behind her.

Killian moved to the window, still careful to remain in the shadows, to see if she joined the man he was seeking or if she was traveling alone. She sat down at a table across from a man whose countenance tickled the edges of Killian’s memory, but he couldn’t quite place him. They were sitting close enough to the window that he had no trouble hearing their conversation.

“Neal, what is going on here?” she asked, furtively looking around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You bring me to this… place… not on any map, out in the middle of nowhere with no explanation other than you have some mission to fulfill before the wedding. This looks straight out of, I don’t know, almost Medieval times. No paved roads, or vehicles for that matter, other than carts and horses. The women are all dressed like…” She looked down and motioned vaguely at her own attire of pants tucked into tall boots and a close-fitting shirt with no evidence of a corset underneath, all covered by a red leather jacket that barely skimmed her waist. “Not like me.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s like time stood still here.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think it’s time you told me exactly what this mission is and why we’re here.”

Just at that moment, the innkeeper approached their table holding two keys. “Dr. Cassidy, Miss Swan,” he began. Killian was shaken down to his marrow to hear his own sobriquet applied as a proper name to his reincarnated love. She looked at the innkeeper confusion furrowing her brow.

“We’re together,” she informed him. “We just need one room.”

The innkeeper shook his head. “Separate rooms for men and women who are not married,” he informed her. “King Killian would never allow otherwise.” He left the keys on the table and withdrew just as one of the serving girls laid down plates of roasted chicken, vegetables, and fresh baked bread in front of them.

The consternation on her visage was very familiar, and Killian felt a surge of inexpressible joy that brought a wide smile to his lips.

“Is he kidding?” she asked this Dr. Neal Cassidy. The stare she pinned him with was also very familiar, and Killian could almost feel sorry for the man as he seemed to squirm a bit under her intense gaze. “Explain. Now,” she continued. “What is this place? What are we doing here?”

The man leaned across the table and lowered his voice, obviously not wanting to be overheard.

“Ems,” he began, glancing around to make sure there was no one near enough to hear him. Too bad he didn’t know Killian stood just on the other side of the wall and could hear every word that proceeded from his lips. “The reason we’re here - the mission - is to kill…” His love’s eyes widened as Dr. Cassidy glanced around again to be sure there was still no one within earshot, “a vampire.”

Killian let out a resigned breath as full recognition flooded him. Here we go again, he thought. The reason this Dr. Cassidy sounded, and then looked, vaguely familiar to him was because he was of King Malcolm’s bloodline. The last in a long, long line of adversaries who refused to leave him in peace.

“A… vampire?” she asked, incredulously. “But…”

“Don’t say they don’t exist,” Cassidy interrupted, his hand waving dismissively about. “I can assure you, they do. And this one has had a vendetta against my family for 250 years.” Killian could clearly see the disbelief in his love’s eyes as the man continued his impassioned explanation. “This vampire has killed every single one of my male ancestors, from my own father to my great-great-great-whatever going back to 1768. Why, I have no idea. But I didn’t want us to begin our lives together with this shadow hanging over us. So I’m here to kill him, before he comes after me. And I will succeed.”

The words took a moment to register, but once they did, Killian’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in suspicion. This man, this Dr. Cassidy - descendent of Malcolm, the man who’d… - was planning to marry his Swan. He stood rooted in the shadows unable to do anything but watch and seethe in helpless fury.

“Neal…” she began, doubt and confusion in her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he insisted, interrupting her rudely. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but you wanted an explanation and you got it. Just trust me, ok?”

“Fine,” she said, though her eyes told a different story altogether. “Let’s say I trust you, and vampires are real.” The skepticism in her tone was on full display, and Killian knew she still didn’t believe Dr. Cassidy’s words. “What if you don’t kill him?” she asked. “What if he kills you, too?”

“He won’t,” he assured her, reaching across the table toward her. “We’ll attack during the day, while he’s asleep. A stake to the heart and cutting off his head will ensure his death. Then we can return home, get married, and live our lives in peace.”

Killian ground his teeth in anger at the lies Dr. Cassidy was spinning. Why the man felt the need for deception about the history between his family - King Malcolm’s progeny - and Killian himself, he could only speculate. But the man was obviously not worthy to call his Swan his own.

“And you know how to find him?” she asked.

Dr. Cassidy nodded and pulled out a small notebook. “This has been handed down to me from my father and from his father before him. Everything we need to know to kill the creature is right here.” He opened the book and flipped to a page with a map. “This is a map of the castle, so yes, I know exactly how to find him.”

They finished their meal in relative silence. Once they’d satisfied their respective appetites, they each took a key and walked toward the stairs on the other side of the common room. Killian’s gaze fixed on Dr. Cassidy. He had some plans to make before he’d surely face this latest adversary come dawn.

~*~*~

Emma Swan rummaged through her duffle and pulled out her sleep shorts and tank top as she tried and failed to put Neal’s words from her mind.

Something about his explanation didn’t ring true to her. She had a sixth sense type of thing- she likened it to a superpower- but she could always tell when someone was lying to her. And as she ran back over his words about the vampire, she knew he was not telling her the truth. Not about the vampire himself, though. As unbelievable as his words were, they were not the rambling mutterings of a madman. And her superpower had been completely silent when he spoke about its existence. It was only when he spoke of the reason for the vampire’s vendetta that her intuition awoke, telling her of his deception. He had to know why, why the vampire was targeting his family. That was the only thing he said that wasn’t straight facts. For some reason though, he didn’t want her to know what the reason was.

She crawled into bed, closed her eyes, and prayed sleep would find her quickly.

It seemed only minutes later that Emma felt a feather light brush against her cheek and heard whispered words laden with tender affection.

“Emma. Emma, my Swan.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and her gaze landed on the most handsome man she’d ever seen. There was something very familiar about him, though she couldn’t say just what it was. It didn’t even occur to her to be alarmed at the presence of a strange man in her room. His hair was black as midnight and his blue eyes shone in the moonlight spilling into the room. His skin was unnaturally pale and neatly trimmed scruff the same color as his hair covered his jaw. He was tall and well built. His pants clung to the long lean muscles in his legs and he wore a dark shirt that wouldn’t look out of place on a pirate of old underneath a red brocade vest.

“Who are you?” she asked as she sat up in the bed. “How do you know my name? What are you doing here?”

He knelt beside her bed and extended his hand toward her. She placed her hand in his, feeling inexplicably drawn toward him.

“I am Killian Jones,” he said. His voice was low and rich and it wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. “I am the Sovereign of these lands, and you are my love. I’ve waited for you for 250 years.”

“What?!” she cried, pulling her hand from his. His last words made her mind race back to what Neal had said earlier as she quickly put the pieces together. “You’re the vampire!” She couldn’t contain the horror in her voice or, she was sure, on her face. “Oh, God! You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” She could hardly believe what she was seeing, visual confirmation of Neal’s words. She pulled her legs toward her chest and scooted as close to the head of the bed as she could, trying to present as small a target as was possible. “Why me? Neal said you targeted his family! I’m not his family, yet!”

“No, my Swan,” he assured her, gentle compassion beset on his features, his hand still outstretched, her superpower as silent as could be. “I am not here to kill you. You are my bride. Returned to me. As promised.”

Bride? Returned to me? As promised? “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nobody promised anyone anything!” she exclaimed. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she extended a hand towards him, and he gently clasped her fingers.

Love. A deep and abiding love that she’d never known swept over her as pictures filled her mind. Pictures narrated by the man kneeling before her.

“King Malcolm demanded tribute from our small but prosperous kingdom. He was nothing but a tyrant, and I refused. Our people were loyal and strong, and I knew that we could defeat him if it came to battle. The dawn when we were to meet, our lookout ran to me with his spyglass. I opened it and trained it across the valley to where his army was mustered.”

A gasp of profound grief filled her mind as she saw what Killian saw through the spyglass. A woman tied to a post, her face covered with a dark bag. The obvious leader of the army, King Malcolm, grabbed the bag off of the woman’s head, her long blonde hair settling about her shoulders. There wasn’t time to get a good look at her face, but the scream of anguish from Killian told her that whoever it was, was someone of great import to him. He sounded the advance - the thunder of hooves and battle cries of the men deafening in Emma’s mind. Watching the scene now through Killian’s eyes, as they got closer to the opposing army, King Malcolm drew his blade across the throat of the blonde woman, Killian’s cry of fury now filling her mind. The armies met, and Killian was relentless against his adversaries until he met King Malcolm himself. The fighting between the two men was brief - Killian obviously a far superior swordsman. It was only moments before Killian’s sword was buried in his enemy’s gut, withdrawn and brought down again where King Malcolm’s neck met his shoulder, literally slicing the man in two.

The battle was over, and Killian rushed to the dead woman on the other side of the valley. Emma watched through Killian’s eyes as he gently turned her face towards him. Emma’s breath caught and she couldn’t look away from the ashen visage of Killian’s beloved- her own face. His grief and despair poured from his lips as he gathered his love to his chest, uncaring of her blood that covered him.

Killian’s narration resumed.

“King Malcolm was soundly defeated, paying for his hubris with his life. But not before he took my greatest treasure away from me. My Swan, my bride, my Emma. We’d only been married a few months when I rode away to war. If I’d known what his plans were…”

His words drifted off for a moment before resuming again. “I’d heard of a witch who lived in the woods near the border of our kingdom. I’d left her in peace because, to my knowledge, she didn’t use her magic for nefarious purposes. I took the body of my beloved to her, mad in my grief, hoping that something could be done to bring my love back to me.”

Emma watched as Killian emerged into a clearing with a small hut on the opposite side. She could smell the woodsmoke tinged with aromatic herbs from the chimney. Could hear his gasping cries and the sound of his pounding fist upon the door. When it opened, Emma gasped in horror. The witch had no face. Long matted red hair framed a pale visage with thick black stitches where her eyes should be. She spoke in an otherworldly whisper as she invited Killian Jones in.

He laid the body of his beloved on a pallet on the floor and begged the witch to do something, anything. Holding her hands out in front of her, Emma gasped again at the bright blue eyes in the center of each of the witch’s palms. She slowly moved her arms back and forth, the eyes darting around, before she began to speak.

“I am powerless against the bonds of death, Killian Jones,” she murmured, but with an undertone that reminded Emma of the swell of the ocean pounding against the rocks of the seashore. “But know this, your love will return to you one day, not by my hand and many lifetimes hence. I will give you a potion that will enable you to live until that time. When she returns to you, her True Love's Kiss will restore you to life and you will live out your days in peace.”

The witch fell silent and her arms dropped to her side, the unnerving eyes now covered from Emma’s sight. The witch turned to a shelf laden with bottles and her hands moved surely among them until they settled on the one she sought. She turned back to Killian and handed him the bottle before speaking again.

“Drinking this will give you endless life, and will freeze time within the confines of your kingdom. The night will be your domain, and you will thirst for blood. Until the time your True Love returns to you.”

Killian uncorked the bottle and downed the contents in one go. It was only seconds later that he doubled over in excruciating pain, his cries surely reaching far beyond the woods in which they all stood. It seemed forever to Emma, but his cries finally came to an end and he straightened upright again. His eyes darted around the hut before landing on the witch. Emma could feel the struggle within him - his thirst for blood was overwhelming, but his gratitude for the witch’s prophecy and the potion kept him from slaking that thirst on the first available person he met. His hands shook as he reached out toward her, expressing his thanks. He turned and picked up his bride and quickly took his leave. It wasn’t far into the woods before the thirst took him completely. He hid his love and found a deer to satisfy his hunger. Emma had never hunted anything in her life and couldn’t watch this particular scene. As she waited for it to be over, she heard his voice in her head again.

“Since this time, I have never left my lands.” His voice was sad, resigned, the weight of centuries contained within it. “I’ve only left my halls to feed on the animals of the forest as I waited for you to return to me. Malcolm was the first, but he was by no means the last, to seek to forcibly take my dominion from me. Over the centuries, father and then son have sought to destroy me, but all have failed. Your Dr. Cassidy is the last of that line. Each one has come after me. I have never, in 250 years, sought them out. Malcolm was the one who took you from me, and he tasted my wrath. I held no ill will toward his progeny. I have only ever defended myself against their aggression.”

The scenes came to an end, and Emma was back in her room in the inn, Killian Jones, still gently holding her hand in his own, kneeling before her.

“I knew he was lying,” she whispered. “He said he didn’t know why you targeted his family, but you didn’t. They targeted you.” He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “His great-great…” Emma shook her head slightly, “whatever murdered your love… Murdered… me?” He nodded again. “And you’ve been waiting for me to return to you all this time.” Emma’s heart broke at the sadness in his eyes, and she moved to the edge of her bed, placing her feet on the floor, only inches separating them. “I can’t. I won’t allow this to happen.” She brought her hand to his face and cupped his jaw before lifting his face to hers and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

A prism of rainbow colors blew through the room, and Emma gasped as she pulled back from him. Memories of her previous life flooded her mind - the contract of marriage drawn up between her father and Killian, her love for him from the moment she laid eyes on her betrothed, the swan nickname that he’d called her when she insisted on sharing his bed on their wedding night. She remembered the happy days of their lives before Killian had ridden off to defend their home from Malcolm and then being kidnapped and murdered on a high hill, her beloved on the other side of the small valley that lay between them.

“Killian,” she cried, falling into his arms where he still knelt on the floor. She kissed him fiercely, her hands in his hair, her body held in strong arms and lined up against his from their knees to their lips. They separated briefly, and Emma thought she could drown in the bottomless pools of blue that stared back at her. His skin was no longer pale, but glowed with youth and health. Her fingers trailed lightly down his face to his neck where she could feel his pulse fluttering under her fingers.

“Emma,” he whispered. “You’ve returned to me, and brought me back to life.” He was too overcome to say anymore and rose to his feet, his beloved still in his arms. Taking a deep breath, he was completely without words to express the love and joy flowing through him, not to mention the blood flowing through his veins! He was alive! At long last! He lived again, and his Emma, his Swan, was in his arms after 25o years. He captured her lips with his, teeth and tongues clashing with all the fervor of lovers long separated, finally reunited.

He lowered her to the bed and drew back, his eyes raking over his beloved, taking her in from head to toe - green eyes like emeralds glazed with passion, blonde hair fanned out over her pillow, her lips were red and kiss swollen, her chest heaved, nipples at attention as she struggled to catch her breath. Her long long legs writhed on the bed, seeking friction for the arousal she clearly felt.

“You are so beautiful, my Swan,” he murmured. His fingers trailed lightly down her arms, then sought the bare skin underneath the bodice she wore. She gasped and grasped the bottom of the garment before drawing it over her head in one smooth movement, baring her breasts to him.

Killian quickly removed his own clothing as she took her bottoms off before returning to her on the bed. Stretching out beside his love, his fingers lightly grazed the side of her breast as his mouth sought hers again. His moan of rapture came from the depths of his very soul. His beloved wife was returned to him. There were times over the past two and a half centuries that he despaired of ever seeing this day, but now that it was here, it seemed all these years without her were but a blink of an eye.

The fervent and frantic motions between them calmed when Killian captured her lips. Emma clung to him, drawing him closer and closer to where she desperately needed him. Her hands traced the long lines of his back from his shoulders to his ass, and delighted at the lean strength she found there. She rolled to her back, bringing him with her, settling him between her legs. Pressing her hips against his hardness, she shuddered at the exquisite pleasure that raced down her spine.

Killian released her lips and dipped his tongue into the two dimples on either side of her mouth and the one on her chin, just as he had remembered doing earlier this evening when beholding her for the first time in so long. He worked his way down the graceful slope of her neck, nibbling and biting, leaving open mouth kisses and raising gooseflesh in his wake. He circled one nipple and then the other with his tongue before drawing it into the warm cavern of his mouth, sucking gently. Her moan of pleasure went straight to his cock and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait to be inside her until he brought her to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

“Killian,” she breathed, writhing beneath him. “Killian, please. I need you so much.”

“Patience, dearest,” he replied in between kisses down her torso. “I must quench my thirst on you now.” She released her breath on a shaky exhale as he spread her legs and blew gently on her soaked folds. Killian couldn’t help but chuckle as she squirmed, but his need was also great, so he dove into the decadent feast laid out before him and was rewarded with a burst of sweetness on his tongue and a high pitched cry from his beloved signaling her climax. He lapped up every drop she bestowed on him before moving up her delectable body once again. Capturing her lips once more, he lined himself up with her channel and pushed into her scorching hot depths.

“Emma,” he cried, “How I love you!” He began to move, slowly at first, but then with more speed as his passion overtook him.

“I love you, too, Killian,” she moaned. “Take me. Mark me. Make me yours! Please!”

“I have missed you… so much… my love…” He buried his face in her neck and obliging her words, sucked on her pulse point, drawing heat to the surface of her skin. Her walls gripped him as she fell again, and he could hold himself back no longer, emptying himself into her with a roar of euphoria.

He collapsed onto his love, but couldn’t open his eyes for several minutes, his newly alive body utterly exhausted. When he could move again, he rolled off of her and gathered her into his arms, nuzzling and kissing her neck. She hummed in satisfaction and met his lips with her own.

“At times, I would despair that this day would ever come,” he murmured into her lips.

“But I’m here now. And I’ll never leave you,” she promised him. “We need to do something about Neal. He plans to kill you come dawn.”

Killian chuckled amusedly. “Let him come. I’m human again. I won’t be asleep like he expects. I’ll be waiting for him.”

“Let me,” Emma said, her green eyes flashing, her voice filled with passion. “His ancestor started all this - trying to take everything from you and separating us for 250 years by murder, no less. And Neal lied to me about you. Allow me recompense for all that he and his ancestors have taken from us.”

Killian stroked her cheek tenderly. “As you wish, my love.” He gathered her close, her head resting on his chest. “Once we awaken in the morning, you’ll meet him and I’ll slip away to the castle. I’ll be waiting for you in the great hall.” He smiled gently at her. “We will resume our rule of this land, side by side. As it should be.”

“I can’t wait,” Emma murmured. She reached up and kissed him gently before settling her head back on his chest again. It wasn’t long before her breaths evened out and deepened, indicating her peaceful slumber. Killian struggled to remain awake for just a few minutes more of finally holding his love in his arms again after so long. He stroked her hair gently and kissed the top of her head before his eyes slowly closed.

~*~*~

Killian peeled his eyes open and sat up, alarmed, to find himself alone in his chambers at his castle. The magic within him - that bound him and his kingdom - always made sure that he was safely ensconced in his castle before dawn. And the remnants he could feel now left within him must have done the same. Even if it was no longer necessary. He gasped in fear and looked down at his hands in a panic, terrified he might find it was a dream and he was still a vampire. The sun was just beginning to rise over the trees and into his chambers and he could clearly see that his hands were warm and pink with life, rather than the pale ashen color he’d seen for so long.

He rose from his bed, still naked, his eyes darting around his chambers. It was dawn, and he was awake! He was alive! He hadn’t seen the sun in 250 years and it was glorious! The comparison to Emma’s hair was completely unavoidable.

Emma!

She’d be here with Dr. Cassidy soon, and Killian needed to prepare himself. He dressed himself carefully and proceeded to the great hall to receive his guests.

~*~*~

Emma and Neal approached the castle, bold as brass. When she’d awoken alone that morning, Killian’s clothes were still scattered around the room, testimony to the night of passion she’d shared with her love, besides the sizable hickey he’d left on her neck. She’d needed to leave her hair down to hide it from Neal when they left the inn on horseback about forty-five minutes before. Now they could clearly see the gates of the castle, wide open.

As if they were expected.

It was exactly the same as her memories of her past life. As they passed under the portcullis, she knew what she’d see - the wide courtyard where the market day was held weekly, or the army Killian commanded practiced drills. They approached the keep, and Emma held her breath. Neal strutted forward as if he was the lord of this castle, and Emma ground her teeth in anger.

She followed behind him as he consulted the notebook he’d shown her the night before. They continued through the halls of the castle until they entered the Great Hall. Emma’s heart leapt to see Killian on the other side, silently waiting for them.

“Killian,” she cried, running to him, completely uncaring about Neal’s reaction. He rose to his feet, unspeakable joy on his face. Catching her in his arms, their lips met in a kiss so full of passion, she never wanted it to end.

Much too soon for her liking, Killian pulled back.

“My love,” he whispered, trailing his fingers down her cheek. The move was so full of tenderness, it made Emma want to weep.

She met his sapphire gaze with her own and whispered. “Soon,” she assured him before turning to Neal, who stood dumbfounded where she’d left him by the doors. Taking slow, deliberate steps, Emma crossed the room until she stood just a few feet away from her former fiancé.

“I imagine you have some questions,” she began. “Are you wondering how we could possibly know each other, what that kiss was about, exactly what is going on here? I am very happy to answer those questions,” she said with a satisfied smirk on her face. She paused for a moment, before taking another slow and deliberate step toward him. “But not before you hear what I have to say to you.”

Another step.

“You lied to me,” she accused softly. “You said that this monster had a vendetta against your family, and you didn’t know why. When actually, it was the other way around. Your family held on to a hopeless vendetta against him.” The blood drained out of Neal’s face, and Emma couldn’t help the small smile that touched her lips. “You and each of your male ancestors have come against him. Never has he come against you. Not once in two-hundred-fifty years.”

“Emma…”

“Now, for the questions… And the answer is really all rolled up into one. What exactly is going on here? Justice. You came here, the last in a long long line, expecting to finally destroy the vampire whom you claim has plagued your family for centuries. When actually, my True Love and I will be exacting retribution for your and your family’s crimes against us.”

Neal’s voice shook as he whispered, “True Love?”

“Yes,” she replied. “True Love. And you want to know how I know?” She nodded at him, a knowing and gleeful smile on her face. “I know because after he told me the truth, his kiss brought the memories of my past life back to me and brought him back to life again. This vampire has waited for me to return to him after your ancestor murdered me in cold blood, in full view of him and the armies they both led. Since then, your family has come against him, over and over again, until this very day. You are the last. And you will be the last. With no son to take up your vendetta, we will live out the rest of our lives in peace.”

With those words, Emma reached into the bag at her side where she carried all the weapons Neal had brought along on his fruitless quest. Quick as lightning, she pulled out the wickedly sharp wooden stake that he’d planned to plunge into Killian’s chest and plunged it into his neck. Blood poured through his fingers, too much to be stopped. He staggered forward, his other arm reaching for her, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Emma stepped back out of his reach into Killian’s warm embrace.

It was only moments before he was completely still. Emma turned to face her True Love and was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s over,” he said in a whisper.

“It’s over,” she repeated, nodding gently.

“And you’ve returned to me.” A tear slowly tracked down his face as he looked into her eyes and tenderly, reverently stroked her cheek.

“And I’ve returned to you.” She lifted her hand to his face and drew him down to her lips, her kiss promising forever.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!!

#cssns24 #return to me #krystal writes #art by motherkatereloyshipper

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