#Funerals Successfully

[globalindeed]

A Comprehensive Checklist to Arrange Funerals Successfully

Planning a funeral for a loved one is never an easy task, particularly when you are emotionally drained and in a broken state of mind. Of course, the funeral directors will come in very handy, but it is vital for family members also to pay attention towards funeral services. This is an emotional situation, but arranging a funeral is mandatory and can be done quickly when you have a comprehensive funeral planning checklist.

WHY DO WE REQUIRE A FUNERAL PLANNING CHECKLIST?

A funeral planning checklist can be very effective when selecting funeral services and funeral packages from a funeral parlour. It will help arrange the event for your loved one while breaking down the process into bite-sized pieces to help you understand and arrange it easily.

Different types of funeral services are available at every funeral parlour, and there are many funeral packages to choose from. Getting suggestions from your funeral director will help you a lot, and you can use a checklist to get even better results.

ESSENTIAL ITEMS INCLUDED IN A FUNERAL PLANNING CHECKLIST

WHAT TO DO FIRST?

•       Get death registration done within seven days of the death.

•       Apply for a death certificate or let your funeral director do this.

•       Choose a funeral home for funeral services.

WHAT POINTS TO DISCUSS WHILE MEETING YOUR FUNERAL DIRECTOR REGARDING FUNERAL SERVICES?

In your meeting with your funeral director, you’ll decide:

•       If family and friends like a viewing

•       If your loved one needs to be embalmed

•       If your loved one needs makeup? and if so, provide a reference photo for the makeup artist

•       A location for the service

•       The date and time of the funeral

•       Appropriate transport of your loved one

•       A dress code for the funeral service

•       The type of service you’d like: cremation, burial, all-female, etc.

•       A suitable funeral package within your budget

•       The type of coffin or urn

•       If you’ll include any religious or cultural rituals

•       Who’ll be the pallbearers?

•       Readings, songs, poems, etc. or the service

•       A florist and floral arrangements

•       The photo for displaying at the funeral, plus extras for the booklet or video reel

•       Video streaming options

•       If you need family transportation

Funeral directors from the chosen funeral parlour must also help you with extra arrangements. Some of them are listed here –

•       Arranging deceased transportation into their care

•       Preparing your loved one for viewing and the funeral service

•       Transportation on the day of the funeral

•       Applying for a burial permit and internment

•       Applying for the death certificate

•       Arranging funeral flowers, booklets, booking venues, etc., as part of your chosen package

WHAT TO PROVIDE TO YOUR FUNERAL DIRECTOR?

You’ll need to give your funeral director:

•       Clothes to be buried in

•       A reference photo for the makeup artist

•       Photos you’d like for a video reel

•       Your readings, prayers, speeches, photos, etc., so they can prepare the funeral booklet

•       Any items you’d like placed in or on the coffin

[deus-ex-mona]

rage is a ✨way of life✨

[duckapus]

Episode idea: Desti's been trying to get a job for the last few weeks, but between the current job market sucking and the whole Being Dead For A Few Years thing messing with her resume, it hasn't been going well. She probably could go back into Inksports, but that would involve moving all the way to Splatsville since that's where the current Turf War scene is (and, you know, the fact that Inkopolis got destroyed during the Emulator Arc), and like hell she's gonna leave everyone she currently knows and live in the desert. She's been getting a bit discouraged, but today opportunity finally knocks in the form of the school the Kids go to needing a new P.E. Teacher.

Most of the Crew is somewhat apprehensive, knowing full well how intense both she and the kids at that particular school can be, but she's not worried about it. I mean, she was a high ranking member of the Octarian military, and after that the leader of a very successful professional inksports team! She can totally handle teaching a bunch of kids how to exercise!

[solxamber]

Suddenly, an idea got to me when I read one comic. So, basically, Yuu sits on bench, looking down and all depressed, then Ace and Deuce see them like this and ask what's wrong, Yuu tells them to sit down, so they can tell them, they sit down, then Yuu says to them: "Guys... A bench is freshly painted..." Idk I just felt like it suits them very well. Cue as they proceed to go through 5 states of grief

First Year Trio vs Freshly Painted Bench

sorry for the wait, I hope you like it <3

Ace and Deuce were minding their own business, strolling through the campus courtyard, when they spotted you sitting on a bench. But it wasn’t just the usual “hey, there’s our friend chilling on a bench” type of sitting. No, you were hunched over, elbows on your knees, staring at the ground like life had personally punched you in the gut and stolen your lunch money.

“Hey, are you okay?” Deuce asked, his brow furrowing in concern. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could recognize a sad face when he saw one.

Ace snorted, nudging Deuce. “Pfft, maybe they just lost at UNO again. Come on, it’s not the end of the world.”

You lifted your gaze ever so slightly, giving them both the most soul-crushing, mournful look. A look that said you’d just seen the darkest depths of human existence. It was the kind of expression usually reserved for people in tragic Shakespearean plays, not normal students in the middle of the afternoon.

“What happened?” Deuce asked, his voice soft, like he was bracing himself for some life-altering news. “Did something really bad happen?”

You motioned for them to come closer. “Sit down,” you said quietly, like someone on the verge of revealing the meaning of life itself.

Deuce’s concern deepened. Without hesitation, he plopped himself down on the bench beside you. Ace, less certain but intrigued by the sheer drama of it all, sat on your other side. The three of you formed a solemn row on the bench, like mourners at the world’s saddest funeral.

There was a long, weighted pause. Both Ace and Deuce waited, eyes wide, as if you were about to drop the most earth-shattering truth bomb of all time.

Finally, Ace broke the silence, his curiosity getting the better of him. “So, uh… what’s wrong?”

You sighed. It was a deep, theatrical sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand years of suffering. Slowly, you turned your head toward them and said, in a voice so grave it could’ve been narrating a tragic documentary:

“The bench… is freshly painted.”

There was a beat. A moment of absolute, deafening silence.

Then:

“WHAT?!” Ace yelped, his face immediately scrunching up in horror. He bolted upright like he’d just sat on a beehive, but it was too late. He glanced down, eyes wide, at the back of his pants, and sure enough—a vibrant, shiny streak of wet paint was smeared across his clothes.

Deuce’s reaction was slower, but only because he was in denial. “No, no, no, wait, it can’t be—” He reached a hand back to touch his pants, and the moment his fingers brushed the sticky surface, his face fell into the deepest despair. “Oh no… nooooooo!”

You stayed seated, as calm as a monk who had achieved inner peace. “Yep,” you said softly. “Just freshly painted.”

Ace, now pacing in front of the bench like a man possessed, threw his hands up in disbelief. “WHY DID YOU TELL US TO SIT DOWN?!” His voice cracked somewhere between fury and absolute confusion.

You shrugged, not even looking at him, your voice still deadpan. “I needed you to understand my pain.”

Deuce, still frozen on the bench like a statue, glanced back at his pants, horrified by the neon streak decorating his backside. “But… but why didn’t you just tell us?” His voice was faint, like he’d just witnessed a crime against humanity.

You finally stood up, stretching a little as if your emotional weight had lifted now that you’d successfully shared your burden. “Because misery loves company,” you said, a tiny smirk playing on your lips. “And now… you get it.”

Ace stared at you, hands in his hair, mouth hanging open. “That’s… that’s messed up, man!”

Deuce, however, was too far gone. He wasn’t even mad anymore. His face was a portrait of pure, unfiltered sadness. “I’m gonna have to wash these, aren’t I? Like, scrub them for hours…”

You nodded solemnly, patting him on the back—though you made sure to avoid touching his pants. “Welcome to the club. It’s going to take at least three washes, minimum.”

Deuce whimpered.

Ace, however, wasn’t done venting. “You couldn’t have just given us a heads-up?! ‘Hey guys, don’t sit here, the bench is painted,’ or something?” He waved his arms wildly as if demonstrating the hypothetical conversation.

You just shrugged. “You looked like you needed to sit.”

“And now I’ll never sit again,” Ace groaned, dramatically flopping back down on the other side of the bench in defeat—only to shoot back up in horror, realizing there was even more paint he hadn’t noticed.

You couldn’t help it. You chuckled.

Ace pointed a finger at you accusingly. “You—this was a trap! A setup! You’re a paint terrorist!”

Deuce, still sitting in quiet despair, muttered, “This is worse than losing at UNO…”

The three of you stood there for a moment in shared misery. Well, you stood. Ace and Deuce just fidgeted around awkwardly, trying to figure out how to move without getting more paint on themselves.

Finally, Deuce sighed. “I guess we’re going to the laundry room, huh?”

Ace groaned, giving you one last betrayed look before shuffling off with Deuce. “This isn’t over. You owe us.”

“Yeah,” Deuce added, still staring forlornly at his pants. “You owe us big time…”

You waved after them, feeling surprisingly lighthearted now that your suffering was mutual. “I’ll buy you guys lunch later!” you called, though you weren’t sure if they even heard you over their grumbling.

As they disappeared into the distance, you sat back down on the cursed bench, content with the knowledge that, while your pants were ruined… at least you weren’t alone.

Masterlist

[miyamoratsumuu]

WHAT'S LEFT OF YOU

↳ you promised to marry each other by the time you were 23. but when the time came, a happy marriage wasn't what greeted you when you saw him again. touya todoroki/dabi x reader notes/warnings: implied character death (no specific details of how), angst angst angst!!!, events stated from the war may not be completely accurate, doesn't contain a specific timeline from the series

navigation . . .

mha masterlist

"we'll get married when we're eighteen!" was the first thing touya heard when you successfully convinced your mom to give you two rings she never wears anymore. the boy could only roll his eyes as he watched you skip your way closer to him.

"no way! that's way too early you know!" he crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground. he instantly regretted doing so when your grin was replaced with a frown and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. touya sighed and took one of the rings from your hand and held it up in front of you.

"let's get married when we're twenty three instead. we won't be too young and we won't be too old either. just don't cry, alright?" he slipped the ring onto his finger and he did the same for yours. now your grin was wider than the one you had earlier, and the eldest todoroki couldn't have it any other way. he was satisified with himself until you raised your pinky finger towards him.

"pinky promise?" you had a hint of hesitation in your voice, laced with the innocence of believing in the strength of promises made with the pinky of your hand. touya only replied to your hesitation with a confident grin, and with him wrapping his pinky around yours.

"promise!"

that was the last interaction you've had with touya todoroki since you last saw him. it's been forever since you last made promises with the boy, it's been years since you last heard his name, and it's been months since both of your birthdays this year have passed. both of you were supposed to be twenty three by now, but then again, your ring finger still lacked a wedding band.

you never thought you'd stand face to face with the todorokis again after all these years, but here you are. enji todoroki, the man himself, laid in a hospital bed, as his wife and children stood by him. "dabi's dance" "the todorokis' eldest son is alive" "touya turned into a villain" "touya's alive"

the last thought never left your head for what felt like forever. the swirl of emotions in your stomach felt like the warmth of a fire on a winter night and the sting of alcohol in a new wound in one. it's been days since dabi, the famously known villain from the league of villains revealed himself to be touya todoroki. the current battle between him and shoto must be tough on both of them; you thought. it was tough on you too, to only be watching from the other side of a tv screen in your dimly lit apartment.

it made you feel bad, but the only thing going through your mind while the brothers were on tv was if touya's promise ring was still with him. if you were special enough to him for him to keep something that had a piece of you that came along with it. it's a shame you only got your answer weeks after the war ended.

it wasn't a surprise that the only people that attended the man's funeral were the members of the todoroki family themselves. other than them, you were the only other attendee there. all of you wore black, and the pouring rain just matched your mood perfectly. soon, one by one, touya's only known family other than the league said their goodbyes and left. until the only ones left in front of the sad pile of soil was you and enji todoroki. your eyes never left the ground until the man beside you cleared his throat.

"the police said they found this among touya's belongings. well, his used to be belongings. everything else was burned in a fire, this was the only thing left." you turned to him as he opened his palm to reveal a ring; it was small and had the smallest bit of rust along its sides but otherwise, you could recognize that piece of jewelry anywhere.

"I assumed it had something to do with you since I've seen you wearing a similar one for a while now." enji urged you to open your hand, and he gently placed the ring in your palm. he offered you a bow and bid you goodbye. since the man left, you never moved from where you stood, and you never let the ring out of your sight. it was the last piece of who touya was; before hurt caught up to him, before it pushed him to change who he was entirely, and before you lost him.

tears pricked your eyes as you slipped touya's ring onto the finger beside the one your own ring was on. this time, you let the tears fall down your cheeks. you let yourself cry, now that touya isn't there to stop you. by now, you were supposed to be celebrating your marriage with the only boy you ever loved. instead, you grieved in his death, and the sky continued to let its tears fall as it mourned with you.

a/n: my first take at writing for dabi!! I hope this came out alright huhu I'm not too sure with how I described some scenes but oh well (I desperately need rue's opinion on this like I'm praying to the tumblr gods that rue sees this on her dashboard PLSPLSPLS)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Luke x hades!reader

Luke is good, no betrayal, everything fine, just happy happy happy.

‘Okay, since when were you going to tell me you and Nico are siblings?’ Luke asked one day and immediately your brows furrowed in question.

‘Siblings? Since when because as far as I’m concerned he’s not.’ You tell him as you continued to eat your breakfast, thinking that would be enough to stop Luke from spouting more nonsense into your ear.

Luke scoffs. ‘From what I’ve heard through the grapevine is that you both give off that mean side eye. One that screams get the fuck away from me or I’ll kill you, bring you back, only to then kill you again.’ He says as he steals a strawberry from your plate, popping it into his mouth, only to then trying not to choke on it when he saw that you were giving him the side eye that you were most well known throughout camp for.

Other people would’ve scurried off from being such a look by now but Luke was a little bit different, Luke only smiles and laughs behind his hand as his other hand sympathetically pats the back of yours. ‘There’s the award winning glare of yours or should I say yours and Nico’s now.’ He says after successfully not choking on a singular strawberry, but you weren’t as amused as he was, he had just insinuated that you and Nico were related before following up in stealing your food; what a prick.

‘That’s not funny Luke you owe me a strawberry now.’ You replied as your eyes found the Italian boy in question from across the dining pavilion, seeing absolutely nothing that could bring the theory that you were both somewhat related, because as far as you were aware the boy hadn’t yet been claimed and even still you’d like to think you’d see the signs beforehand that could indicate a connection between you and the young lad.

Luke threw an arm over your shoulder as he brought you into his side, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand rubbed at your arm. ‘You can have as many of my strawberries next time if that’s a good trade off for a single and lonely strawberry, yeah?’ You sighed as you rested your head against him, slightly tucked under his chin. ‘Sure.’ You grunted as Luke’s smile stretched further across his face as he was quick to notice where your eyes were.

‘The next time you see Nico, watch his face and then you’ll see why people are saying your siblings in giving people death glares and mean side glances.’ He whispered to you when he could tell that the curiosity was the primary emotions that you felt in this moment and time and he couldn’t blame you, if someone was telling him that he shared a death glare or side eye with someone else being playfully called his sibling, he’d be a little curious too to see if the proof was in the pudding.

The rest of breakfast played out like usual and went by without issue as you and Luke went your separate ways, though not without Luke insisting that he had to kiss you on the forehead, though you found yourself watching Nico like a hawk in hopes of seeing what everyone else was seeing but nothing of much really happed where you got to see this death glare of his.

You were just about to give up and call it a day, feeling a little stupid for believing in what others have to say other then listening to your own gut and to ignore what was being said, thinking that the person who started such a rumour was only doing it for the fun of it.

That was until you saw it.

The death flare Luke had talked about earlier that morning.

Whatever the camper said must’ve annoyed Nico or have been so stupid that his brows furrowed and the steely look within his onyx eyes that screamed ‘I have your murder planned out along with your funeral arrangements if you don’t fuck off.’ It was exactly how you imagined you looked when put in a similar position, and now everything made sense as you crossed your arms over your chest as the camper scampered away from Nico, who was still watching after them.

‘Well I’ll be damned.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘We do share something after all.’

‘I told you.’ Luke said as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing you to give him a glare that matched the one Nico had on his face towards that poor unfortunate camper seconds prior.

‘You done patting yourself on the back?’ You asked him rhetorically as he only smiled smugly at you.

‘Nope, you might as well go down there and welcome your sibling with open arms.’ He responded cheerily as he continued to look at you as though he was the cat that caught the canary, or a mischievous fox that had one last trick up its sleeve.

You playfully shoved Luke away from you with a scoff. ‘If only it were that simple Castellan but unless I see the sigil of my father above his head, cabin 13 still belongs to me and me alone.’ You told him.

Nico was claimed by hades not even a day after you said this.

Luke was in hysterics and on the verge of tears when he looked at your face, now realising that Nico was now indeed your little sibling in more than just teasing fashion.

[aimasup]

hey wouldn't it be something if Filbrick noticed how quiet the house got after both his kids never came back, and he says 'good riddance'

wouldn't it be someth

So I was reading your post about Filbrick and I want to ask a question about this parts of the post:

"From his point of view, Filbrick just heard Stan admitting he destroyed his brother’s life, by making him lose a chance that will never happen again."

"He made Ford lose an occasion that will never come back."

"Because before ruining the family, Stan’s action ruined his own brother’s future. He could have studied in a great school, instead of a mediocre one. And this is not something any parent would see, for none of their kids."

So, you are trying to say that Filbrick believes in retributive justice and that's the reason that he kicked Stan out of home? Like "You ruined your own brother’s future and destroyed his life and I will show you the same courtesy". He responds fire with more fire, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, that sort of thing.

Honestly, I don't think Filbrick thought at all, when he kicked Stan out of the house. What we got from the series (especially from Lost Legends) is that Filbrick is a guy with a short fuse, who tends to reach instinctively to things.

This is what I think happened here too. Filbrick heard Stan admitting he was hurting Ford, so he did the first instinctual thing that popped up in his mind: he protected the hurt son, by keeping the other away.

If he stopped to think, he would've probably found it very weird that Stan deliberately messed up his brother's life and questioned the whole situation a bit more. But that wouldn't have been Filbrick: he's a tough guy with a short fuse and he connected everything in his mind in the simplest possible way. One son hurt the other? Separate them.

I articulated it in a more complex way, but I don't think Filbrick made complex reasoning about Ford's future: his train of thought was probably much simpler, much more of a "son hurts other son -> separate them". Probably, on a more subconscious level, he made all the reasoning I explained, about how Stan admitted he just ruined his brother's future (according to him at least) and how painful it was to see a talented son forced into mediocrity. Maybe this is also how he processed everything that happened in the following years. Maybe he even gave voice to these thoughts, while talking with his wife and Ford.

But in the heat of the moment when he kicked Stan out, I doubt he made any of these reasonings at all. I believe it was more of an instinctual reaction of someone who wanted to protect the hurt son. And yes, by doing so he ended up hurting the other son, but we also know that Filbrick isn't the best at delicate mechanisms like psychology or feelings.

[unabashegirl]

MASTERLIST

ONE SHOTS

Kings of Leon

Wear something noticeable || Part 2

Equatorial Sun

What are you doing up?

My head is spinning over you

Pax Romana

Harry's grammy performance

You lied to me

Chocolate cake

Golden Boy

Nameless

Meeting her || Part 2 || Part 3

Echo

Camping

my best friend’s dad || part 2

Fragments || part 2

Entangled || part 2

The Cover || part 2 || part 3 || part 4

CAPTION CHRONICLES

Dating hints

Pregnancy

Sadie Sink

Elsa Hosk

Lori Harvey

Pudderfly

Deepika Padukon

Dakota Johnson

Matilda Djerf

Gracie Abrams

Bella Hadid

Camila Morrone

SERIES

if you want to get ahead and get access to all chapter then check out my patreon!

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

masterlist

Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.

masterlist

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is forced to return to the town where she was born for extraordinary reasons. Her father is extremely sick and on the verge of passing away. Alsfield has changed and is far from what she remembers and even though she lived in town until her high school graduation she barely recognizes it. The town hides a big secret from a few individuals that live in it including Y/N. The man who maintains the town's secret and protects it is no other than Harry Styles. Things take a sudden twist when they meet. Numerous things will impede Y/N from returning to San Francisco to her somewhat ordinary life, will she be able to abandon the town that she had successfully escaped the first time? What is the big secret that the townspeople are hiding, and what is Y/N's role in it? Who is Harry? Where does he come from? Had she met him before? And what does he want from her?

masterlist

Summary: Harry is just like any other college student. He is a senior in Chicago University. He keeps to himself except when he is spending time with his closest friends, Sarah and Mitch. His world revolves around his future career, friends, and family. His quiet and routine driven life takes a turn, one weekend when he meets Y/N Y/L/N. She is way too different from him. She spends most of her days surrounded by people who care for superficial and materialistic things. Her parents are never home, and they think that with money everything can be solved. They are both from different worlds yet something that night clicks and Y/N can never again get him off her mind.

masterlist

[dried-mushroom]

My Queen

Aemond 'one-eyed' Targaryen x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, incest (uncle & niece), oral sex (m receiving), public handjob, fingering, missionary sex, porn with plot, short slow burn, Aemond is head over heels for you, soft! Aemond

Enjoy!!!!!

You were the firstborn daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Harwin Strong. No stark resemblance to the knight as do your siblings, as you were the only one born with silver Targaryen hair. This made you stand out compared to your brothers, as their heritage was a common topic for gossip, and they did not have a single feature from Ser Laenor, your mother's betrothed. You were still considered a true Targaryen and not a bastard child nonetheless.

It had been years since your family had been back to Kings landing, years since you'd seen your uncles, Aegon and Aemond. You had less than fond memories of the older prince as a teen, he was always trying to get you alone and mentioning how he could satisfy you better than any other lord or knight. You often ignored his words but sometimes he was just too vile to bare.

His brother on the other hand intrigued you. He was much quieter than Aegon, but he spoke to you often. Usually, it was only small talk when you ran into the prince. You honestly didn't mind, as you may have developed a liking for the younger prince. What you weren't expecting was he already wanted you for himself.

The clearest memories between you and Aemond were when your brothers and your uncle decided to tease him about his lack of claiming a dragon. You knew how cruel Jace and Luke could be, as they enjoyed making your life harder so to speak. You lectured them both when you found out what they did to Aemond and searched for the young prince.

When you found him perched against an old oak tree, with his head in his hands, you sat next to him. As he turned to face you, you could see how red and raw his eyes were, obviously from crying. You tried to apologize for your brother's behaviour but he didn't want your pity, instead, he told you not to worry, and that he would make sure he gained a dragon. He didn't enjoy being harsh towards you and apologized later that day by gifting you a book with a note inside.

Another less fond memory of your prince was the night of Lady Laena's funeral. The entire day had an aura of gloom, and you could tell the tension was tightening between your family and Aemond's. Rhaenyra and Alicent were clawing at each other's throats every time they were close and the rumour that your mother had birthed four bastards was certainly a rumour that the HighTowers were eager to entertain, just so that your mother was seen as an untrustworthily whore.

Yet you remained close to Aemond, usually strolling around the grounds of the castle together or watching him train to duel with his brother and Ser Criston. But that dreadful night something changed, that night he finally got one of the two things he always wanted; to claim a dragon. Vhagar, Laena's dragon was sleeping peacefully until Aemond woke her, and through his bravery and her compliance, He successfully bonded with her by commanding her to calm herself and serve him in High Valyrian.

He quickly got the hang of it and rides the dragon around High Tide before landing. Vhagar was the biggest dragon in Westeros and the most powerful of any dragons the Targaryen's had. Whilst his little flying escapade, Laena's daughters noticed his absence and could hear the familiar roar coming from their mother's dragon, so they rushed over to Jace and Luke to help them find who had stolen the dragon, which was meant for the eldest Velarylon girl, Rhaena.

You were resting against a cold stone wall, seemingly fazed, when your younger brothers and cousins rushed up to you and told you about your uncle. You suddenly recalled hearing the familiar noise of the dragon and Aemond had excused himself from you as he 'felt ill' earlier. You trailed behind the four as they went to inside the castle searching for Aemond. When they spotted the young prince, they all started arguing over who had a claim to the dragon. You stayed behind them, not entirely wanting to be there.

Without a second thought, Rhaena hit Aemond for an insult he had said to her about her mother, but the latter was stronger and threw her to the ground. Your brothers quickly joined in the fight. Jace pushed Aemond to the ground and he broke Luke's nose somehow. You felt conflicted, about who to defend; either your brothers or the boy you've liked for what seemingly felt like eons.

You tried to get in between Luke and Aemond to break them up. Aemond wasn't thinking straight and accidentally hit you with a rock he had in his hand, to use on Luke. As soon as he realised what he did he dropped the rock and started apologising profusely, but Jace thought it was the perfect time to get revenge on the prince for hurting his big sister and stealing their cousin's dragon, as he threw sand into the boy's eyes and Luke slashed the boy in the right eye, blinding him.

You quickly snapped out of your pain haze and quickly rushed over to the wailing boy, whose face was now covered in blood. You couldn't believe what your brothers had done. Everything became a blur after that moment, you remember blood soaking your light-coloured dress and guiding Aemond through the castle to his mother. Him clutching you tightly, still muttering apologies to you, your relatives spewing their disgust at you for aiding the prince.

The last time you and the prince spent time was the most memorable. It was the day your mother remarried to her uncle, Daemon. You, Jace, and Luke were told by your mother that you all would be leaving for dragonstone and to say your goodbyes, the handmaidens would pack your belongings but be ready to leave King's landing before noon. This sudden news upset you heavily as you would be separated from Aemond and your friends for God knows how long. You wandered around the castle soaking in each and every detail as if it were the last. You made your way to Aemond's chambers, worried about his reaction to your leaving.

The both of you got incredibly closer ever since that fight, seemingly you both were joined at the hip, always sharing longing glances that teetered on the border of platonic. Once you reached the door and knocked, the familiar face of your blonde prince greeted you, eagerly letting you inside his room. You picked at your cuticles, not wanting to share the news with Aemond. He noticed the disdain on your face, and spoke "What's wrong, Princess Y/N?" you sighed, "Mother wants me and my brothers to travel to dragon stone for some time, she told us to say our goodbyes and to be ready to leave at midday. I'm so sorry." His smile faulted, as he took in your words.

He felt almost ill, his beloved was leaving so abruptly, he didn't know what to say, as he knew he couldn't sway Rhaenyra. Without a thought, he closed the gap between you both, slowly pressing his lips to yours, in a tender kiss. He gripped the fabric of your dress, either in a plea to hold you even closer or to keep you with him even longer. You couldn't help but feel something hard pressing into your thigh, your cheeks were ablaze when you realised what that something was.

You broke the kiss, knowing you didn't have much time left. He must have realised and quickly retrieved something from one of his drawers. It was a small bracelet, decorated in emeralds, the Hightower colour. You couldn't help but smile a little as he slipped it around your wrist. You gave him one last peck before saying the last words you'd say to him for the next six years. "Please write to me, or maybe even visit, I won't forget you, I beg you to do the same, goodbye my prince." "I will my princess, don't doubt it. Goodbye y/n." You left his chambers, not realising his brother was waiting outside his door.

Aegon grabbed your arm tightly and whispered in your ear. "You're leaving? fuck sake, why can't Rhaenyra just send the twats you call brothers away, she really wants to torture me. " You tried wiggling out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't let go, "You know, I get so fucking hard when you cross my mind, I can't stop thinking about you swollen with my seed, being my little whore and no one el-" Aegon's perverted wishes were quickly diminished as your younger brother called out your name from the entrance of the corridor. Aegon released your arm but said one last thing, "Goodbye my betrothed." You knew that was a sick joke, Aemond had already told you that Aegon and Helena were already betrothed. He just really wanted to fuck with you. You muttered a goodbye with gritted teeth and rushed towards your brother and out of the castle.

Six Years Later:

Your mother and Daemon had decided that it would be best to visit Kings Landing once again, for your ill grandsire and to reaffirm Jace as the heir to the driftwood throne. You wouldn't mind being back at King's landing once again, this time as an 18-year-old woman, you were soon destined to be betrothed to some lord or knight. Another reason would be to see familar faces, such as Helaena, both of you were close. The Velayron girls you missed as well, as they were always sweet to you.

The two men you were dreading to see were Aegon and Aemond. Aegon for the most obvious reasons, he is a fucking pervert. As for Aemond, he in a way broke your heart. He promised to write to you but never acted on that promise, you had written three letters to the prince but he never wrote back. All those years, not one fucking word to you.

At first, you were deeply hurt but you came to understand that you could not let such a foolish thing belittle you as you were to be heir to the iron throne once your mother became Queen, you could not be seen as weak. You begged your mother to let you ride dragon back to the castle but she insisted to take a carriage, to your disappointment. Later that morning you all set off.

When the sight of the familiar castle came into your vision, you became an internal puddle of emotions, relief for finally being back home, happiness for finally being able to reunite with old friends and uneasiness for seeing the boy you loved, a man. Once the carriage abruptly stopped, you all stepped out and you let out a sharp exhale as all the Targaryen decorations that you remembered had been replaced by religious symbols.

Your stepfather made a few comments about Queen Alicent and her father was behind that, humourous but wasn't appropriate. You all were greeted and You, Jace and Luke were allowed to wander the grounds for a while. You found yourself walking near where the duelling practice was taking place and heard the smooth familiar voice belonging to Aemond.

"Nephews, You've come to train?"

You couldn't help but sigh gently when you saw how attractive Aemond had become. His hair was twice as long (more to pull on), and he was more toned and adorned with a black eye patch from the accident between him and your brother. As you walked closer to Aemond and ser Criston, you took in how skilful Aemond had become with a sword.

You joined your brothers and when Aemond saw you for the first time in years he almost forgot what he was even doing. That's how mesmerizing you are to him. Once he managed to make the Knight yield he strode towards you three. Aemond hadn't seen you in six years and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, how your beautiful blonde hair framed your face, how your eyes were just as vibrant as they were and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger over your figure in your black & red dress, how he could get a glimpse of your cleavage as he towered over you.

"My niece, how I have missed you."

His tone was sultry and he gave your hand a quick kiss before giving your brothers a nasty look.

"Jace. Luke. Can you give me and your sister a moment alone?"

They raised their eyebrows but walked away leaving the both of you alone. He sighed before grabbing both of your hands into his.

"My dear y/n, Before you speak, listen to me. I never wanted to break that promise I made to you all those years ago. Alas, my mother had other thoughts, she forbade me from any contact with you."

"But-But why? I never did anything to offend her?"

He knew how you felt, his mother was a confusing bitch. Wanting to place Aegon, a drunk who regularly commits infidelity, as King on the iron throne. Instead, he believed he himself should have a claim to the throne. He was the one who studied history and philosophy. He was the one who trained with a sword. Oh, what he would truly do to be King and have you by his side as his Queen.

"Her reasoning seemed uncouth, as it was since you were the daughter of Rhaenyra and bare no resemblance to Ser Laenor. My mother decided that you would be unfit for me. But I couldn't go one day all those years without a thought of you trickling into my mind. Hm, you're still wearing that?"

You looked down at your wrist and couldn't help it as the blush rose to your cheeks at his words, it was the gift he left you on your last day spent together, he felt an odd sense of pride knowing you still cherished that simple bracelet. He pulled you into a tight embrace with your hands still in his grip. His large arms wrapped around you almost lovingly, and he rested his head upon yours. He murmured into your hair but before you could ask what he had said you both were interrupted by a sharp feminine voice.

"Aemond! come here. We need to talk"

And with that, Aemond sighed before releasing you to follow his cunt of a mother. You turned around to find Daemon smirking at you and laughing as he walked away, and you could tell that today would be interesting, to say the least.

Once the clock struck midday, most of everyone had made their way to the throne room to start their petitions for the heir to drift mark. Your grandsire was too sick to sit on the throne so Otto and Alicent were the ones listening. You followed your family and stood with your younger brothers. Once Vaemond, your technical uncle had proposed he be the heir to the driftwood throne which had made your entire family worry as you all knew that the Hightowers were going to do anything in their power to weaken your family. But you couldn't help but smile when you noticed how Aemond was looking at you from across the room.

When it was finally time for Rhaenyra to speak for your brother and as soon as she started the doors opened to the throne. You all turned and saw your grandfather, struggling to walk down the stairs to his place on the throne. Daemon helped his brother onto the iron throne before letting him speak. The king had reaffirmed your brother's place on the driftwood throne and you were extremely happy for him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him how happy you were for him. You couldn't see how Aemond balled his hands into tight fists of jealousy, he didn't enjoy seeing you touching any other males, nonetheless, the boy who took his eye when they were younger.

After that gruesome turn of events, you were expected to go to a family dinner, your family and the Hightowers together how could that possibly go wrong? That evening you had walked into the dining room, lit up by numerous glowing candles. You noticed how almost everyone had been seated and there was an empty chair beside Aemond. Once you sat down, you saw how he looked at you, abashedly adoringly. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I can't wait for tonight, I have something special planned for you. I know you'll like it."

You shivered as his warm breath trickled down your neck. You both shot back up once you heard Alicent cough loudly. You both noticed how Luke was staring almost disgustedly at the scene in front of him, but Aemond just smirked at him knowingly. In the middle of Alicunt saying grace, you felt a warm hand on your skirts. Your eyes flicked open to meet Aemond's closed ones, he seemed awfully proud of himself. What he wasn't expecting was to feel your hand gently brush against his growing erection. You watched how his breath hitched as his mother finished saying grace. As each family member conversed with one another you were trying not to concentrate on the hand trailing up your inner thigh to your arousal.

"So y/n have you been betrothed yet? I have just never seen you with a suitor yet."

Helaena's words broke you out of your haze, you stumbled around your words.

"Uh, not yet haven't. I feel as if men just are not so attracted to me."

You didn't notice Aemond's slight disappointment at your words, as you knew how much he adored you, inside and out.

"Well I'm sure you'll find someone soon, don't worry marriage isn't so appealing as it seems"

The subtle insult to Aegon made you laugh, a sound Aemond treasured. He truly enjoyed seeing you happy, he also wanted to see the noises of pleasure you'd make, squirming on his cock. He took his middle finger and trailed it over your underwear, just over your wet slit. You let out a quiet mewl but contained yourself quickly as you remembered where you were, you glared at Aemond but found him already looking at you. As food was brought out one plate by one, you took the opportunity to seek a small sliver of revenge. When a servant placed a whole roasted pig in front of the both of you, bad taste in your opinion. You popped open Aemond's pants and slipped your hand inside and into his undergarments to pull out his already leaking cock. You both were concealed by the meal in front of you and the large white tablecloth.

You lazily stroked his cock, every so often you'd spread the pre-cum gathered on his tip, making him grip your thigh hard in desperation. He honestly didn't think you'd do this to him, he only had imagined you doing such things to him in his more...personal fantasies. What he was planning to do under the table would have to wait but he'd repay you back generously. After some looming stares, your grandfather spoke for one last thing before he passed, to have one evening with his family with their grievances put aside. Your mother had commended Alicent on her loyalty to her father and her devotion to her husband and Alicent had returned her graciousness, saying she would make a fine queen. Everyone drank from their cup. You kept your pace while everyone seemed finally happy to be in each other's presence, everyone was smiling and laughing with one another, unknowingly witnessing you jerk off your uncle under the table.

Aemond knew he wasn't going to last long as you were so good for him. He loved how you were pleasuring him, and he honestly loved how no one even noticed the debauched action you both were doing. You stroked him one more time before he let out an extremely loud groan and he came, warm spurts all over your hand. You sighed internally and meet the disturbed faces of your family. They all knew what you had just done to Aemond and how Aemond fully enjoyed it. Without a second thought he put himself away, dragged you out of your chair and out of the room. The entire room was silent until Aegon laughed loudly and congratulated his brother earning multiple stares of disapproval.

You and Aemond ran out out of earshot and leant against the cold wall of a stairwell, breathless. You couldn't help but laugh about the situation you both put yourselves in, rightfully you both just scarred your entire family and knew the lectures you were bound to receive the next day. The first one to speak was Aemond, stumbling around, trying to figure what he would say until what he had spend all day planning popped into his head.

"Thank you my princess. I truly enjoyed that, shall I repay the favor?"

"What are you offering my prince?"

Aemond took your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He met your soft gaze before leading you up the stairs into his chambers. When he opened the door, you saw a simple (choice of flower) on the edge of the bed next to a small wrapping of parchment paper. You wondered how in all of kings landing how he knew your favourite flower. He guided you towards the bed and sat down, you subconsciously played with the petals of the flower now in your lap. Aemond places the small wrapped into your hand,

"Open it, I know you'll like it."

You took Aemond's words and carefully unwrapped the gift. You couldn't believe it, it was a beautiful ring, gold with small emeralds engraved on the sides.

"My dear y/n, Will you take me? be my Queen?"

You nodded eagerly as you pressed your lips to his.

"Of course my King."

He pulled you into his lap, his hands wrapped around you deliciously. You couldn't help but moan as he slid his tongue into your mouth. He had a tight grip on your skirts, pulling you closer to the hardness in his pants. He broke the kiss to trial small bites over your neck, leaving a purple trail in his wake. He couldn't help himself but grind you down on his lap, trying to get as much friction as he could. You were more than happy to reprociate. He mumbled curses under his breath as he layed you down onto the soft sheets, taking in your debauched beauty. He slowly unzipped your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you only in a pair of undergarments. He could feel his cock twitch just looking at you, and he was on his knees infront of you, and lazily stroked himself through his trousers, tempting himself.

He quickly made work of his vest and the white shirt underneath. He was about to get rid of his pants but before he could even reach the button, he felt your mouth against his bulge, his hips bucked against you at the warm feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut as you pulled out his cock once again and this time wrapped your mouth around his tip. He moaned in ecstasy at foreign feeling, he couldn't help but thrust into your mouth, trying to chase more. You braced both your hands onto his thighs as you took more of his dick. He absolutely loved you like this; you were so beautiful it hurt. You could tell by his stuttering hips that it wouldn't be long until he came, you gave him one more long lick up his shaft and pulled his weeping cock out of your mouth. You could see the slight disappointment on his face but you reassured him.

"I want you to cum in me."

He groaned when he heard those debauched words leave your pretty mouth. He couldn't wait to ruin you. You laid back down, and he laid himself above you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He slowly rubbed the tip of his cock languidly over your glistening slit, teasingly.

You whimpered, already too stimulated for his teasing, "please"

"Please what? You need to use your words."

"Please. I need you to fuck me."

Without a second thought, he slowly pushed his hips forward, entering you, you let out a gasp at the feeling of absolute fullness. Aemond let out a shaky breath, finally getting to feel you after longing for you for years. Aemond begun to thrust his hips quickly, You arched your back, as lewd sounds erupted from your mouth and cunt as the pleasure increased.

Groans escaped Aemond as he could feel your cunt squeezing him so tight, his platinum locks framed your face as he continued his ministrations. You could feel the tip of his cock bumping your cervix with every thrust, he tantalizingly dragged his cock out and in, pressing deeper and Aemond let one of his hands wander to your clit, fumbling the bundle of nerves in delicate circles

Aemond ducked his head between your tits, licking the mounds and swirling around your bouncing nipples. They grew more sensitive. He pinched one nipple and took the other in his toothy mouth, nibbling and sucking at your flesh.

"Oh fuck Aem, I think I'm going to cum."

Aemond practically whimpered against you, a beautiful sound, he broke away from your chest,

"Cum on my cock, my Queen."

The combination of the abuse on your pussy and tits, that tight coil in your stomach finally fucking snapped and you gushed, all over Aemond's cock and naval. It didn't take a minute more for Aemond to fill you up with his seed, you felt the warm spurts of his cum inside you and couldn't describe the feeling you felt, was it adoration? Was it love? you couldn't tell as he slipped out of you, leaving your pussy clenching at nothing and he laid beside you. You rested your head on his chest and gazed up into his eye, he whispered lovingly;

"I cannot wait until we are married on Dragonstone and you swell with our children."

You let yourself fall asleep unaware of the arguments that you and Aemond will deal with in the morrow.

The end

This was a draft from last year but since Hotd season 2 will be released I knew I NEEDED to post this. Hope y'all like it.

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 17: Everything Is Cursed

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 6371 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

One question was bothering you. You had been through hell and you still hadn't received your reward. That inquiry was running in circles in your mind. There were many answers, but none were facts. What was happening? Why were you going through it? How long would it be until it was over? Many possibilities, none seemed to be the right one. It was a doubt that arose the morning after the small funeral you prepared for your sister.

There was a small chapel past the garden and crops behind the terrible castle. Its white facade, with a classical curved parapet and a red tiled roof, emanated serenity in the middle of hell. On top of the facade, the emblem of Sukuna’s kingdom rose towards the sky. Vines grew around the open arch that reveals its interior. That small place had existed since Sukuna conquered these lands. With no function for that small building, Sukuna decided to leave it as it was. Sometimes the servants would go there in their free time to pray for their souls in case they didn’t survive another day.

You carefully placed the golden urn with Yorozu’s ashes on one of the shelves. Uraume had given it to you the morning after your little expedition with the king. That morning, you woke up, surprised to be in your room in the castle. Apparently, you had fallen asleep while watching the sunset and the king had to carry you back in his arms. “How embarrassing,” you thought before getting ready for the funeral.

You put on the cap of your black cloak so that no one would disturb you as you dedicated a minute of silence to your sister’s soul with your cheeks completely dry. You had quickly accepted that she was no longer with you and that you couldn’t do anything for her in life. Now the only thing you could do was honor her short life. Everything had happened so fast. A couple of months ago you were crying from happiness to see her, and now you didn’t want to cry from disappointment.

You listened to Kenjaku give his class, but you couldn't pay attention. It had been a week since Yorozu's death and something was missing. The reason why you had committed that atrocity that you wanted to forget but would haunt you for the rest of your life. You tried to pay attention to your teacher, but that doubt kept pulling you into the limbo of probabilities.

“Once you understand your opponent's point of view, it is easier to defend your own position more successfully, especially because that's how you avoid misunderstandings and arguing about aspects that the other side hasn't really said,” Kenjaku explained while writing the keywords on the board. “That's why studying the rival is very important in the debate.” He turned around to find you lost in your thoughts. You looked at the board, but you weren't really reading what it said. “Do you have any questions?”

“Why hasn't the king proposed to me yet?” You asked him, coming back to your senses. Kenjaku looked at you confused.

“I meant about class…”

“Ah.” You quickly read what the board said about the steps to learn how to argue. “I have no doubts about that.”

Kenjaku had noticed your strange attitude for a couple of days now, but as you continued with your education without delay, he never asked you. He thought it was because you were still mourning your sister's death or sad about not knowing the true whereabouts of your sisters. The teacher smiled to himself, just when he thought he could read you like an open book, it turned out that he wasn't.

“So that's what's been distracting you lately?” Kenjaku inquired.

“Did I do something wrong? The king promised to marry me once I killed someone of my kind, but he hasn't done it yet,” you explained worriedly.

“Do you want to marry him that much?” Kenjaku joked tenderly. It was nice to see a girl completely in love.

“Of course,” you answered without hesitation. Your master smiled at hearing you so excited. “My sister died because of that, I better do it.” That was not an answer he expected to hear.

“Excuse me?”

“I lost Yorozu because of that deal. If Sukuna doesn't propose to me, I would have killed my sister for nothing,” you explained, crossing your arms in frustration. “Do you know why the king hasn't done it yet?”

Kenjaku's enthusiastic smile disappeared just like that day when Sukuna came back with you in his arms, completely asleep and, worst of all, without a ring on your finger. The king was stupid for not taking the opportunity to ask you to marry him after all.

“I have no idea,” Kenjaku answered. “Maybe he's been very busy.”

That could be a possibility. You hadn't seen the king as often as before. You used to see him at every meal of the day, in the afternoon when you gave him your daily report, and when he sometimes poked his nose into your education. Now, you only saw him at breakfast time because he spent the rest of the day locked in his office. You couldn't even report to him because he wouldn't let you in. It was strange how everything around you had changed after your sister's death.

"I hope he didn't scam me," you thought, holding your head in guilt.

"The king may be many things, but a scammer isn't one of them," Kenjaku, I assure you.

The door opened, interrupting the teacher-student conversation. You recognized almost immediately the naturally bitter face, the gray hair, and the dull uniform in dark tones. It was that new servant who was so kind to you. All you knew about him had been from Mrs. Inoue, who had told you that he was such a reserved, serious, and somewhat grumpy man. It seemed so strange to you that you never perceived it like that.

“Sorry to interrupt you. The king calls you to his office,” he announced.

“Maybe the time has come,” Kenjaku commented with a smile.

“Finally…” You sighed.

It was strange. Kenjaku thought you would be more excited about marrying the king. You studied complicated subjects that fried your brain, trained until exhaustion, and got ready early to please the king’s eyes. It made no sense for you to work so hard for this moment and not be excited.

Sukuna let them into the office. You and Kenjaku entered after bowing in respect to the king and his right-hand man, Uraume, who stood faithfully behind him. Sukuna’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. He gripped his pen tightly to mask his nervousness at being in your presence.

Returning to the castle after his failed marriage proposal, he carried you to your room as you snored softly. He gently laid you down on the bed so as not to wake you up. He took off your boots before tucking you into bed. He sat next to you to admire your calmness. Your chest rose and fell slowly to the rhythm of your breathing. Your eyelashes stood out more when your eyes were closed. Your half-open lips invited him to come closer to kiss you like that night you spent together. “Enough!” Sukuna scolded himself in his mind to stop and immediately leave your room so you could continue your dream.

Since that night, he realized that he can’t think coherently when he iswas near you, so he decided to take immediate measures so you wouldn’t distract him when working. It was frustrating how your mere presence could upset him like that. He had to fight with all his instincts to concentrate on what mattered most now, the future of his kingdom.

You and Kenjaku approached the desk. Quickly, you noticed a large black box with a gold engraving of roses on it. It was almost as long as the desk. That must have been the reason you had been called. It seems that this was not what you were expecting.

“Open it.” Sukuna ordered you.

You looked at Kenjaku for a second, worried about what might be inside. Your master patted you on the back a couple of times, inviting you to come closer. You worked up the courage to open the box without a hint of fear. The latches clicked open at the same time. You lifted the lid to reveal the immaculate treasure.

A beautiful rose gold bow that radiated a special aura against the light. Your mouth dropped to the floor as soon as you pulled it out of its box, along with its matching pink-dyed leather quiver. You never thought you'd see such a beautiful weapon in your life. You pretended to load the bow with an imaginary arrow to test it out. It was lighter than the one you had before, and you could tell it was made with the best quality materials. As you lowered the bow, you noticed a small detail. In the small hollow of the handle there was an engraving, a small daisy. You smiled at the cute detail. You thought it would have a rose, since it was a common symbol in the Sukuna kingdom, but daisies are cute too.

“It's a cursed bow,” Sukuna explained, catching your attention. “That means you can kill curses with it. Keep that in mind when you train with my soldiers.”

“What's the difference from a normal bow?” You asked curiously.

“This bow is infused with the cursed energy from Yorozu’s body,” the king replied bluntly.

“Are you saying that part of my sister is here?” You stammered. Everyone in the room could tell that you were about to burst into tears.

“Yes,” Sukuna replied in the same tone.

You hugged the bow to your chest as you sobbed softly, hiding your face behind your hair and the upper limb. A pang of guilt attacked Sukuna’s chest. He really thought you would like his gift, since you deserved a cursed weapon made especially for you, but it seems he was wrong.

“Thank you…” You sobbed. “Thank you for giving me something to honor her life with.”

You looked into his eyes with tears running down your cheeks and a nostalgic smile on your face. Sukuna’s heart quickly skipped a beat as he realized the true reason for your crying. His lower hands, hidden beneath the desk, clenched into fists to control himself. How could you play with his feelings without even trying? Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses, the powerful tyrant and the commander of thousands, was being corrupted by a mere mortal.

He hated these feelings you caused him. You made him so embarrassed he looked like a tomato, you annoyed him so much, but he couldn't get mad at you, and now, you could manipulate him with a simple smile. He would lose his temper when he was around you and that drove him crazy. If you wanted, he would be in the palm of your hand. He had to keep you as far away from him as possible to prevent the situation from getting worse for him.

“Just go train already,” Sukuna ordered in a grumpy tone, turning his gaze to an empty document to avoid seeing you.

It was a shame he hadn't asked you to marry him yet, but the king really did look busy. You could see the physical effect that being locked up in his office for so long had caused. He had purple eye bags, his posture was stiff, and his eyes scanned the document lazily. “Maybe later,” you thought disappointed before taking the quiver with pink feathered arrows.

“Yes, my king,” you replied with a bow to leave.

“We must leave then,” Kenjaku made you second.

“Who gave you permission to leave?” Sukuna ordered him.

The master was surprised at that. You and Kenjaku shared a confused look, but you decided to obey the king so as not to cause any more inconvenience. Your legs walked as quickly as possible, closing the door behind you as you left the office. Sukuna’s hands relaxed as he no longer had to keep his emotions in check. After making sure you had already left, Kenjaku approached the king.

“Why so secretive, my king?” Kenjaku inquired curiously.

“It’s not a secret, it’s just that she’s not ready to know what I’m planning yet.” Sukuna got up from the desk to take one of the scrolls that were displayed on a bookshelf. He unrolled the scroll with a snap to reveal an updated map of the great world they knew.

It was a large map made from parchment and black ink with wonderful detail. It showed all the important kingdoms and places of interest that made up the world. The Kingdom of Sukuna and the Kingdom of Jogo were to the west, the kingdoms of Gojo, Geto and Yaga; to the north. The kingdoms of Zen'in and Nanami; to the east, and finally, the Kingdom of Tsukumo was to the southeast. Currently, the great tyrant owned the east and planned to expand soon.

"I'm going to declare war on the Zen'in," Sukuna announced, pointing at the large territory with his finger.

Kenjaku looked at him impressed, but not surprised. He knew that one day the king would not be satisfied with keeping the infested lands with only curses, so he would go to conquer human lands. Kenjaku glanced at Uraume out of the corner of his eye, who had not said a single word the entire time they were there. He expected nothing less from the shadow of his majesty.

“Wow, how ambitious,” Kenjaku commented while looking at the map. “May I know why you made that decision?” He returned his gaze to the king with curiosity.

“The Gojo Kingdom and the Geto Kingdom are allied, so an invasion could be complicated with my current troops. The Nanami Kingdom, Tsukumo and Yaga are small but distant. They will be my next targets once I have the Zen'in.” Everything the king said made sense, but there was still a small kingdom that was at the equator of the world to consider.

“What about the Kamo Kingdom? It is small and right in front of the Jogo Kingdom. It is the perfect target.”

“How many times have Commander Mahito and his troops tried to kill them?” Sukuna asked him seriously. Kenjaku gulped at that indirect accusation.

“I have already lost count, my king,” he answered, embarrassed by his comrade.

“They may be a small kingdom, but they are stupidly powerful. They are watching their lands at all hours for living so close to the Jogo kingdom. If anyone is ready for an invasion, it is them.” Sukuna explained. "As this is my first invasion into the heart of a kingdom, I have spent all this time carefully choosing my first victim. Because once I do, the other kingdoms will know what awaits them."

"If you have already decided, I am ready to obey your orders as always." Kenjaku gave a bow of respect that Sukuna completely ignored to look at the window.

"My plan will be carried out once I secure the life of my heir, in case everything goes wrong," Sukuna explained. "During that time, you will take care of the troops of the Jogo kingdom."

"And what about the education of the miss?" Kenjaku asked worriedly.

"I already have that covered." Sukuna answered.

"So what is the first step?" Kenjaku inquired.

“Wait for the Zen’in to make the first move.”

You left your room after finishing getting ready for the day of training that awaited you. You had decided that from now on you would use Yorozu's dresses to train since they were lighter than yours, perfect for moving with complete freedom. Archery is a sport that requires complete mobility of the upper body, so it is annoying to wear elegant dresses that require a corset. You were heading to the courtyard, moving your shoulders in circles to warm up on the way, until you ran into that kind servant. He was dusting off an obsidian vase propped on a marble column with great laziness.

"Did everything go well with the king, miss?" The man asked you when he noticed your presence.

"Yes, he gave me a new bow." You showed it to him to show it off. He was amazed to see it.

"It is very beautiful. It is made with the best fiberglass and carbon. It must have cost the king a good fortune." He explained as he took it to examine it carefully.

“It's obvious that you know about this,” you said, somewhat surprised, taking back your bow.

“Of course I know, I was a hunter before I was a servant,” he replied.

“Really?” You asked, fascinated. The gentleman was going to answer, but another servant, who was passing by, intercepted their conversation.

“Wasuke, leave the lady alone and get back to work!” The servant scolded him angrily.

“Shut your mouth, idiot!” Wasuke replied in the same tone.

That sudden change in attitude took you by surprise. Now you understood why Mrs. Inoue said he was a grumpy man. One moment he could be a kind man and, the next, someone extremely rude.

“In fact, he is working. He is going to help me train,” you defended him. “Isn't that right, Wasuke?” You gave him a knowing wink.

“Of course, miss.” He gave you a slight smile when he realized what you were planning.

The other servant rolled his eyes and walked back the way he came, muttering insults under his breath. Typical attitude for an 80-year-old man. You and Wasuke looked at each other knowingly before smiling at each other as if you had done some mischief.

“I shall warn you that I am a very strict master,” Wasuke warned you.

“Just what I need,” you told him. “My name is Y/n,” you introduced yourself with a bow of respect to your new master.

“Everyone knows who you are,” he joked. “My name is Wasuke Itadori. It will be an honor to train you.” You had a good feeling about this.

Wasuke shouted encouragements at you while you barely did push-ups. As soon as you reached the parade ground, he told you that you were the weakest woman he had ever met in his life, so he forced you to do different exercises to strengthen your arms, shoulders, and back. Your weak muscles could barely support the weight of your own body each time you climbed up, keeping your back as straight as possible. You sweated, even in places you didn't know could sweat.

“Lift that neck, lady! Even a little girl can do 30 push-ups!” Wasuke yelled at you, small drops of saliva escaping from his mouth every time he opened his mouth.

“That's what I'm trying to do!” You complained between moans of exhaustion.

“I don't want a try, I want you to do it!” Wasuke spat. “Three more!”

With the little breath you had left, you lowered your body. The grass tickled the palms of your hands, but that wasn't going to stop you. You climbed up with your back straight and then lowered yourself again. This was more complicated than it seemed. Wasuke kept yelling at you to finish the simple exercise with a good grade. When he said he was a strict teacher, he meant it. You did the last push-up and collapsed to the ground. You groaned in pain as you breathed in the freshly cut grass.

“Get up now,” Wasuke ordered you. You reluctantly obeyed. “Now you are going to hold the bow in front of you for 5 minutes.” That sounded simple.

You took your bow, extended your arms in front of you and held the weapon with both hands. All was well until your limbs began to shiver from the exhaustion of the previous exercises. You tightened your grip on the bow to keep it from slipping from the sweat. You didn’t think you could last 5 minutes like that.

“Can I ask you something?” You tried to distract your brain from the exercise so that time would pass faster. “Why are you here? You look quite young compared to everyone else.”

Unlike the other servants, Wasuke was the youngest of them all, like you at the time. Most servants were between 60 and 80, he looked to be under 50. He had gray hair but still had dark hair, wrinkles from age, but he didn't look like a raisin, and sometimes he didn't hear well, but he was still strong.

“Do you want the truth?” He asked you. You nodded.

The truth was something he had a hard time telling. He was always a good liar to protect his family, especially his daughter. He didn't want her to live in fear because of living in a commune that was in constant danger of being attacked by a curse. His lies were the cause of his only daughter's giant curiosity. 

“My daughter died because of a curse. My wife committed suicide because she couldn't bear the mourning," Wasuke confessed with all the sadness in his heart. "I was a coward and couldn't follow the same path. That's why I'm waiting for the king to decide when it will be my time to join them." Your heart broke when you heard that. It was a tragic fate to suffer. "It's only fair that I too die at the hands of a curse. It's the price I must pay for not protecting my little girl." 

You knew perfectly well what he was talking about. There is no worse feeling than the helplessness of not being strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough to protect what you love. You had lost your family by not being able to fight adversity. You couldn't even protect that child at the harvest for a day who was killed by your lack of courage. You tightened your bow again, this time, out of frustration that both of you had to go through that.

"I'm so sorry," you stammered. You didn't think his answer would be so heartbreaking.

“Don’t apologize. Life is cruel by nature,” Wasuke sighed.

“Still, I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I know what it’s like to lose your family.”

“I know, Miss.” 

Wasuke remembered seeing you cry and scream at the sky for your sin of killing your own blood. He had never seen a person suffer so much physically, emotionally, and psychologically. Even though he was behind the strong walls of the castle, a giant window separated them, and he had a deafness problem, he could still hear the powerful wails of your soul in mourning. Your palms open like books, the blood splattered on the canvas that was your body, and your face in sorrow. It was such a powerful image that he doubted he would ever forget it.

The loud bells woke them both from the memories of their sad pasts. It was the alarm announcing an invasion. This was the second time you had heard it in your time in the castle, and you had an idea of ​​who it could be. Several armed curses ran towards the castle entrance through the battlements that were on the walls, while incoherent instructions were shouted to you.

“Don’t let him pass!” A strong-bodied curse ordered as he summoned a dark screen that slowly covered the entire castle.

“We must go!” Wasuke asked you before taking your arm. You were going to follow him, but you remembered what Sukuna told you on your first day of training:

“In case of an invasion, you will need a cursed bow that allows you to use special arrows to kill curses and use it against sorcerers.” You tightened your grip on the cursed bow he had recently gifted you.

“You go. I will stay here as reinforcement,” you told him, removing your arm so he could leave alone. “Tell everyone to prepare to escape if it gets worse.”

“Are you sure, miss?” Wasuke asked.

“It is an order,” you said, sure.

Wasuke looked at the entrance one last time and nodded, accepting the order you had given him. He returned to the castle at a quick pace to do what he had just been asked to do. You looked ahead before pulling an arrow from your quiver to load your bow. You were completely alone in the courtyard, as all the curses were either outside the castle or on the perimeter. You could only hear the war cries of the curses. You gulped, shaking at not knowing what was going on the other side. You had an idea, but you weren't sure.

The screams turned into wails in a moment. You gripped your bow, mentally preparing for your turn to engage in battle. Though, you were sure you wouldn’t be alone. There was Kenjaku and Uraume to fight next to you. Sukuna can defeat any enemy in the blink of an eye. He would take down this strong foe, wouldn’t he?

The curse screen dissipated into the air, announcing that this curse was annihilated. The chains of the drawbridge began to jingle, and the castle gate swung open. The large bridge fell into place, the ground beneath your feet rumbling. It shook you completely, staggering you in place. You tightly gripped your bow and aimed it at the invader. “A man?” you thought, faltering in your shot.

A tall man, great posture and immaculate aura, walked in confidently, leaving all the curses behind, turning into ash. His spotless black boots thudded against the thick wood, announcing his arrival. His splendid bottle-green military uniform had several gold medals decorating his chest, a black leather belt, and dark pants. He smiled proudly as he combed his blonde hair with black tips back with his fingers.

“Oh?” He stopped upon entering, staring at you in disbelief for a second, as if he had entered the wrong house by accident. “Where is the white-haired guy of questionable sex? He is the one who always greets me,” he asked, confused.

“Did you kill all the curses?” You asked, surprised to see so much ash evaporating into the air.

“You must be new.” The man smiled and confidently approached you. Not knowing his intentions, you stretched the string to load the bow to its limit, but this did not make him stop. “It is a very large weapon, do you know how to use it? I could teach you.” He spoke to you as if you were stupid. You frowned further, this stranger's attitude starting to bother you.

You had recently realized that people like him were the type you disliked the most. Self-centered people who think they can do whatever they please. Yorozu had given you the tools to deal with people like this. You forgave her because she was your sister, but him? This guy was a complete stranger to whom you owed nothing.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” You questioned with the most demanding tone you could fake, you had copied it from Sukuna from hearing it so much.

“I am Commander Naoya Zen'in,” he announced himself with a proud smile. “So I was right,” you thought.

You had only been a servant in the castle for a short time when you heard that name for the first time. You were washing the king's long robes in the backyard with a few other maids. Your fingers were beginning to wrinkle like they do from being in the soapy water for so long. The quiet and the voices of the gossiping maids kept you company. The little peace of the task was interrupted by the alarm bells that echoed throughout the castle. You stopped at the strange noise, having no idea what you were supposed to do.

“An invasion,” one of the servants announced, surprisingly calm.

“Do you think it's Naoya Zen'in?” Another servant, one who had been in the castle the longest, asked, somewhat excited.

“Winter is almost over, most likely,” Her coworker answered, wiping her hands on her apron after finishing her task.

“Who is Naoya Zen'in?” You asked them, butting into the conversation.

“A very handsome commander from an enemy kingdom who comes every year to deliver a letter to the king,” the first one answered. “Let's go see him,” she invited you to go with them to the entrance of the castle.

“No, thank you. I still have to finish washing this,” you politely declined.

The three ladies quickened their pace to find out if it was the man they could see annually. You looked at them curiously. “Was that man so attractive that you had to see him in person?” You wondered. Now you were curious to see this man, but you had a task to finish. You dipped your hands into the soapy water again to try to remove the stubborn blood stains from the king's white robes.

Now you understand why this man caused such a stir among the maids. Someone with such a presence had not been seen since Geto Suguru's corpse appeared in these parts. You looked towards the window that overlooked the great hall, a small group of ladies greeted Naoya from the safe point. The flattered young man returned the gesture.

“Women being women,” he sighed with a big smile. “Anyway, I have an important letter from Zen'in.”

“You can give it to me and leave,” you told him without lowering your bow.

“I think you don't understand your position as a female,” Naoya came closer without a hint of fear nor respect for you. “You're not going to be able to stop me.”

“No!” You shouted, making him stop at the loud objection. “You're the one who doesn't understand.” You lowered your torso so that the arrow's trajectory would change from his torso to his face. “One shot, and you're a dead man, commander Zen'in.”

Naoya smiled at the offense. Not because of the clear threat of death, but because a woman thought she could be a match against him. You and your pink bow were nothing compared to him. A replaceable servant couldn't be in front of a great commander of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world. He was about to teach you a lesson, and it would be the hard way.

"Are you sure you don't want me to save you? I doubt a girl as weak as you would survive long here," Naoya offered, giving you one last chance to redeem yourself.

"I don't need you to save me," you spat angrily.

"Fine," Naoya pulled a knife from his back, spinning it in the palm of his hand to wield it. "Whatever you say."

You let go of the rope when you clearly saw his intentions to hurt you, and the arrow flew into his face. He dodged it with his knife before lunging at you in the blink of an eye. Before you knew it, he was already on top of you and his knife was already at your throat. It had all happened too fast. You had no idea how he had reached you so quickly. The blade swung down as Naoya's smile grew wider. You raised your hand to deflect it, but it wasn't going to make it in time. It came so fast that you couldn't even close your eyes to await your fate.

Out of nowhere, a gigantic fist sent Naoya flying, completely away from you. The powerful commander ended up being slammed into the nearest wall. Naoya groaned in pain before falling to the ground. You were perplexed at how bizarre that had been. You touched your neck on instinct, you didn't have a scratch on it. You sat down on the grass to look around for your unexpected savior.

At first glance, he looked like any other human, but up close, things were different. He was a curse with skin covered in stitches as if his body was made of patches. He had long, blue-gray hair that reached past his neck, and was divided into three large locks with bows at the ends. He also dressed like any other human. He was wearing a black shawl that separated into three pieces on the left sleeve and matching pants with white shoes.

“I'm just arriving, and they're already welcoming me with a sorcerer to kill, how fun!” The curse exclaimed as excited as a child in the park.

Naoya stood up with difficulty, dusting off his uniform. You stood up in the same way to retrieve your bow and load it with another arrow. You approached the curse with confidence, since it had saved you, even if it had only been for its own entertainment.

“Are you okay, miss?” The curse asked you with a big smile without taking your eyes off Naoya.

“Yes, I am fine. Thank you,” You told him, along with a small bow. “Who are you?”

“My name is Mahito, I am the commander of the Jogo kingdom. You must be the lady that the king ordered me to protect.” He introduced himself. “Did the king ask you that?” You asked yourself surprised. “So let me take care of this stupid sorcerer.”

“Who are you calling stupid, you fucking curse?!” Zen'in exclaimed before launching into combat for a second round.

Mahito pushed you away suddenly to transform his arms into two tentacles with dozens of knives on them and run towards his fast opponent. Naoya's knife challenged Mahito's along with the clicking of metals. The curse laughed as if it were a game, angering Naoya even more for underestimating him. They were both moving at speeds your eyes could barely keep up with, but you loaded your bow with another arrow anyway. You tried to aim for Naoya, but he was stupidly fast and Mahito was in the way. “Maybe it’s best I don’t get involved now,” you thought with some disappointment.

Mahito changed one of his tentacles into a large sword that fell on top of Zen'in. Naoya barely dodged it, his breathing ragged from the cursed energy he was expending by keeping his technique active for so long. "Who is this guy?!" He thought annoyed before moving away with a couple of backflips until he landed on his feet.

"Fine, you win..." Naoya took the envelope out of his jacket and threw it at you like a ninja star, landing on the grass in front of you. "Just for today," he said before running towards the nearest wall to climb it and escape.

"Oh, not so fast!" You exclaimed annoyed before pulling the rope.

You looked for a target before he left your sight. You focused on his back, which was the area that was free, as he climbed the wall as if he were an agile ant. You let go of the rope and the arrow flew through the air. Naoya saw it coming and dodged out of its path, but the arrow unexpectedly changed its trajectory and stuck in his back. Naoya bit his tongue to stop himself from letting out a cry of pain and continuing on his escape route. In less than a second, he had disappeared from your sight and Mahito's.

"Ah, the king is going to scold me for running away!" Mahito whined, disappointed in his efforts.

"How come that arrow didn't stop him?" You asked yourself confused. Clearly, it hit him, but he still slipped out of your hands like a damn cockroach.

"Those Zen'in have a very strong pride. That's probably what it was," Mahito complained. "But you're very good." He gave you a thumbs up. You smiled slightly.

You looked back at the card that was lying on the grass. You picked it up to examine it. It was a brown envelope with the Zen'in Kingdom's crest stamped on a wax seal at the opening. A purple orchid on the stamp decorated the envelope, giving the package a more elegant touch.

“Gimme that,” Mahito snatched it from you, ready to open it.

“You shouldn't open it,” you warned him. “It's for the king.”

“It's from an enemy,” Mahito said as he looked for a way to open it without destroying the contents. “It could contain poison, activate some bomb or a weird technique they made up. Believe me, these Zen'in are capable of anything.”

Mahito pushed you roughly to get you away from the possible threat. You had no choice but to listen to him. This was an unusual curse. He had a playful attitude, very different from what you imagined a commander should have. You covered your ears as soon as he finally opened the envelope, in case it was a bomb. Instead of a glass or smoke bomb, it turned out to be a confetti bomb. It shot towards Mahito's face, surprising him immediately, as a colored piece of paper fell into his eye.

“Oh!” You quickly approached him. Mahito rubbed his eyes in an attempt to get it off. “Let me see,” you asked.

You grabbed his chin and pulled his hands away to meet his different eyes, since his left eye was navy blue and the other, gray. Even though it was a strange looking curse, his eyes were very pretty. You blew into his eye so that the paper flew away. Once near the tear duct, you reached for it with your thumb to remove it completely.

Your touch was very kind and warm. Mahito was so used to humans treating him so badly that it was a little uncomfortable for him that you were treating him so calmly and with such appreciation. He now understood why Sukuna had chosen you as the future queen, you were a special human.

“That's it,” you smiled at him. “What does the letter say?”

“You read it, my eye hurts,” Mahito reluctantly gave it to you, rubbing his injured eye.

You opened the envelope to check its contents. You thought it was a declaration of war or some important meeting, but no. Nothing like it. Your mouth dropped to the floor as soon as you saw what it was.

Next →

Open fanfic commissions!

Masterlist.

Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @catobsessedlady

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)

[hernakedmuse]

Horror!Bimbo is obviously very excited for Halloween, it's like she's on laughing gas. She has far too many costume ideas for her and Eddie but for now it's decorating time.

Naturally she's earlier than everyone else, it's the first week of school and they're in the cafeteria and she's obviously in her boyfriend's lap.

He's going over DM plans as she starts to caress his stomach beneath his shirt, successfully distracting him with her manicured nails in Revlon's Enchanting. She's smelling like Crabtree & Evelyn's Rosewater perfume and strawberry shampoo, Eddie's in absolute Valinor as his eyes fall to her cleavage in a borrowed button down shirt of his he wore once for a funeral, that was oversized and worn like a dress on his little baby.

"Can we go to Leewards after school?" She bat her big eyes at him "For Halloween decorations for the trailer." she spoke in that soft, baby voice she would use on him.

He swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and his girlfriend just wanted to take a bite.

She bat her lashes and giggled adorably, she squished her tits together and Eddie smiled like a total dope at the hint of the lacey, periwinkle push up bra he bought her last week. He wanted a taste so badly, but he didn't want to land in detention.

"After DnD, of course! Oh and maybe we can stop at Bradley's Big Buy for Alpine's Apple Cider packets?" she sweetly tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear with the finger that wore his ring he gave her after the Metallica concert this past summer. He smiled with warmth at it, knowing it symbolised that she is his girl and only his girl, and that no one could take her away from him.

When she looked into his eyes all lovey like that, he'd even let her stab him and say thank you. He knows once they get to the store, she's gonna be asking for a lot more with those eyes, and when she wants something but is afraid to ask she makes a song about what she wants and it is so fucking sweet you could get a cavity.

"Yeah bubba, anything for you." He said softly with a smirk.

She squealed and cupped his face and began to kiss his lips red and his neck purple, gaining groans from the table.

[city-of-ladies]

"Mycenaean women put their own spindles to splendid use, producing luscious cloaks and long, richly patterned or striped skirts. Far from resigning themselves to the weaving rooms, they travelled in chariots, performed songs or poetry to the accompaniment of lyres, and carried wheatsheaves for public ceremonies and rituals, as vibrantly coloured frescoes from the palace at Mycenae reveal. In one of the most enigmatic paintings, one woman holds a sword, another a spear, while two tiny men, one painted red and the other black, float mysteriously between them, like toy models or thought bubbles. Through their contact with the divine, perhaps, the women pictured gain agency over the men’s fate. Hera, Zeus, Poseidon and a female birth and death goddess known as Potnia were among the deities the Mycenaeans are known to have worshipped. While Mycenaean women clearly played an important role in religion, their political position within the palaces was weaker than that of their Minoan counterparts, and secondary to the men’s. Each Mycenaean palace complex was presided over by a male ‘wa-na-ka’ or wanax.

Surviving clay writing tablets provide just as fascinating an insight into the lives of women in the real palaces of the Mycenaean era. The fullest collection of tablets comes from a pair of rooms in the palace complex of Pylos, but Knossos, the former Minoan capital, was also a key repository. A total of 4,476 tablets have been preserved across the two sites. Among these there are references to more than 2,000 different women. Unlike Linear A, the Minoans’ writing system, the Mycenaeans’ similarly syllabic Linear B has been successfully deciphered. Working (as opposed to non-working elite) women were denoted by signs resembling an abstract impression of the female form. ‘Woman’ was conveyed by two dots for breasts, legs joined to suggest a long skirt of the kind Mycenaean women wore, and a curved line where her head would be, suggestive of long or dressed hair (in the sign for a man, by contrast, there is a straight line for the head).

The women referred to in the tablets were employed in a wide range of jobs, many of them familiar from the Homeric epics. In the Odyssey, women grind wheat and barley, ‘the marrow of men’, at mills. There were ‘flour-grinders’ at the palace in Pylos. In both epics, women weave, whether royal or servile. Andromache works in the Trojan palace with a loom and distaff while ordering her servant women about their work. Helen embroiders a purple cloth with scenes from the Trojan War as if she were telling the story of the poem herself. And as we have seen, Penelope weaves and unweaves a funeral shroud for her father-in-law, Laertes. The women who wove at Pylos and Knossos were no less versatile in their handiwork. They managed something like a textile industry, producing goods for export as well as the palace community, and worked in groups according to specialism. There were wool-spinners and carders, linen- and leather-workers, finishers and headband-makers for horses. These women usually worked separately from men, but at Pylos there is evidence that at least two women, Wordieia and Amphehia, formed part of a mixed leather-making group. 

Working groups were the modus operandi at the Mycenaean palaces. Women were usually accompanied by boys and girls, presumably their own children, as they went about their tasks. Many were divided also according to their geographical region. Pylos was split into sixteen districts over two provinces, Nearer and Further, separated by Mount Aigaleo. The palace-workers came from more than 200 named places, some of which may have been local streets, while others, including Lemnos, Miletus and Knidos, lay further afield. It is possible that, like the Sidonian (Phoenician) women carried to Troy by Paris in the Iliad to weave fine robes for the court, some of the women working in the Mycenaean palaces had been enslaved.

Although the women were engaged in hard, practical labour, their work was recognised as highly skilled, and the Mycenaeans took some pride in it. Men were sometimes described on tablets as being the offspring of women of particular crafts, for example, ‘sons of flax-workers’. Female workers were allocated the same amount of food in the regular distributions as their male counterparts, and twice as much as their children, whereas in Babylonia, men typically received three times the female ration.

A mysterious senior class of priestess at Pylos known as ‘keybearers’ (did they open and close shrines within the palace complex?) even owned land. A landowning keybearer named ka-pa-ti-ja (‘Karpathia’) was wealthy enough to donate almost 200 litres of grain to the palace, probably for a religious festival. Given the historical prominence of women at the court of Pylos, it is fitting that a mythical Pylian king should intervene in the dispute over Briseis in the Iliad. Old Nestor urges Agamemnon to return the woman to Achilles and to end their feud."

The Missing Thread: A Women's History of the Ancient World, Daisy Dunn

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

What kind of relationship does Minerva have with Sophie? They seem close if she was willing to presumably risk her life by going against the king.

What a good question. Why would a maid, let alone a maid as high ranking as to serve the princess directly, risk everything including her life, to break the princess free? How close are these two?

Let me explain some things.

Well first I want to say that ‘Sophie’ Redwine is the character played by my friend @ouroborosorder. Before anyone made any characters she said she wanted to play a maid, I quickly decided I wanted to play a princess, and we both agreed to make our characters together. This was probably the most fun I ever had making characters and I cannot recommend highly enough doing collaborative character creation to make your characters have a connected backstory.

Sophistry ‘Sophie’ Redwine was a high ranking maid in the royal castle in the capital city of the Adret empire. She worked her way up from a lowly maid position all the way to becoming the personal maid of the princess, because she was really good at her job. Where she became a maid, her sister Aquila ‘Quill’ Redwine, became a knight. Quill quickly worked her way up to becoming a member of the most elite, secretive, and powerful knights of the kingdom; the Brocken Specters. As one of these elite knights, she was made to do many horrible, violent, and cruel deeds in service of the crown. After doing that for a few years, Quill realized she did not like it, and she wanted out. But this was a secretive order of knights, they wouldn’t just let her leave.

Her leader threatened that if she left or fled, they would kill her sister. They then began assigning her on more and more dangerous suicide missions. Each time she came back alive, with more rage burning inside her, and with her body more and more pushed to its limits and injured. Eventually she was assigned what was to be her final mission, a suicide mission no one would come back from alive, no matter how skilled. Quill went to see her sister one last time, and when she did she broke down and told her about the whole thing. Sophie proceeded to trick her (iirc she put something in her drink to knock her out), disguised herself as her sister, and went to die in Quill’s place. It was too late for Quill to stop her, and the only option she had left was to take her sister’s place and become a maid. She even had to attend a funeral for herself, in which everyone told her how great Quill was, and how her sacrifice for the empire would be remembered.

‘Sophie’ then lived her conflicted life, torn between wanting to live her life for her sister’s making her sacrifice worth something (and also hoping her sister might somehow live vicariously through her being the best ‘Sophie’ she could be) and between thinking her life was not worth living so that she must live for the sake of others. Regardless, she lived as ‘Sophie’ for a few years, then she witnessed as Minerva and her disagreement with her father escalated until Minerva became effectively imprisoned as punishment for defying her father. After serving Lady Minerva in her unofficial prison, for a year, whether out of pity, empathy, hope that Minerva might help her get revenge on the empire, a combination of the three, and/or some other reason entirely, she began to discuss with Minerva a plan to free her.

It took nearly 2 years to research everything, gather materials, smuggle materials into Minerva’s living quarters, contact the black market underground magic Dollmaker, and prepare the ritual. But eventually ‘Sophie’, with her dark magic that she learned as a Brocken Specter, was able to perform the extremely risky ritual on Minerva that risked obliterating her soul, and successfully implanted it in full-sized porcelain doll (ordered to look exactly how Minerva wanted bc she’s a picky princess), which she then smuggled out of the kingdom.

Doing something like that together made them accomplices, and as my fellow Otherside Picnic fans know, being accomplices is the closest kind of relationship in the world.

Since then the two began traveling together, living freely but having a vague goal of a revenge quest. Eventually they met up with the other party members, and with shared short-term goals, they began traveling together to make up our ttrpg party!

But what kind of relationship do they have? I’ve been calling it a “yuri situationship.” They have a lot of yuri moments together, but they are not at all dating. Minerva gets jealous and possessive whenever Sophie looks at another woman though.

⚠️🔞Very NSFW text below🔞⚠️:

(And here’s the secret lore: Stemming from one incident during Minerva’s recovery progress, in which the binding of her soul to the doll body progressed to the point of making the sensation of her doll pussy made her kind of insatiable, a time in which Sophie caught her in the act. Instead of reprimanding her, Sophie offered to help her out. And that just sorta kept happening, now the two of them casually cuddle together sometimes, and on occasion Sophie fucks her brains out.)

[Extra secret lore: Minerva realized soon after becoming a doll that the idea of herself being a literal object, and being treated like nothing more than that, especially in contrast to her normal spoiled pampered life, was suddenly extremely hot to her. Also as a doll she doesn’t need to breathe, she cannot bleed or bruise, and she is even immune to dark magic bc of her being undead. Meanwhile Sophie has an ever burning hatred of the empire and now has one of its royals as her personal princess fucktoy that she can take her frustrations out on. It’s kind of a perfect match, i mean it’s probably not super healthy, but they both enjoy it . And then when they’re done the next day they go back to pretending there is nothing between them. They are not really very emotionally healthy people and refuse to talk to each other about what their relationship actually is.]

[gutouhua]

pairing. zhongli x f. reader

wc. 2.7k+

rating. explicit

tags. sort of canonverse, zhongli has ruts & dragon fangs, reader hails from mondstat, mentions of mates/mating, mentions of eating animal meat, zhongli is a perv for reader, zhongli calls reader ‘pet,’ age gap (reader is early-mid 20s, zhongli is biologically in early 30s), mentions of zhongli’s previous sexual relationships (dubcon), power dynamics, cervixfucking, overstimulation (sort of), zhongli wants to breed reader, pussydrunk zhongli, unprotected sex (pull out method)

a/n. MDNI! see end for notes

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

Zhongli rutted in early spring, when trees blossomed and bore fat fruit—juicy peaches hanging heavy on thin branches. Sometimes he’d walk by them and look at them with an almost forlorn gaze. A deep ache in his body.

He wished that there was someone who would satiate his needs like seeds did to trees or bees with flowers. They mated with each other, year after year in a frenzy—a haze of powdery yellow spilling on every surface of Liyue Harbor. Zhongli didn’t have allergies, but even if he did, he would still love and envy the pollen.

It had been a long time since Zhongli had someone like that to spend his seasons with. A mate.

He’d drink copious amounts of lily bulb tea each spring to keep himself from fucking the first person who said yes to him, and would take himself into his hands with a furious passion every morning and night—even during work breaks—to relieve himself.

And it worked. He successfully passed multiple centuries of ruts like so, although it wasn’t always easy. As Morax, he was volatile—could pass for the Pyro Archon herself, Murata, but he tempered himself over the years, learning to be the composed man he was now.

But then you appeared, and the fire flared. Hutao’s newest intern—the first in nearly a decade, fresh. A slight little creature (although most people were small compared to Zhongli), and eager to learn about funeral services from Liyue’s very best. It was the first time you’d been to Liyue, so far from your home in Mondstat, and everything and everyone interested you.

I wonder if there’s a way to breed two creatures together to create an actual cocogoat. It’d be cool—Qiqi would be able to drink actual cocogoat milk, not that cheap substitute that Baizhu makes for her, and we’d be able to eat the meat. It’d taste good, right?

Zhongli chuckled, eyes soft on you. That would be a sight to behold. He didn’t mention that he’d been alive when cocogoats still roamed the Bishui Plains—a story for another time.

And then came the questions about himself.

Why are you so red, Zhongli-xiangsheng?

His rut came early this year for some reason, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. The lily bulb tea would suffice until he had a moment for himself.

But you had to make it difficult. So difficult for him.

Nothing, he murmured.

You grinned, stepping closer on tiptoes so your eyes leveled his chest. Soft rise and fall—imperceptible unless face to face like you were.

It doesn’t seem like nothing to me, Xiangsheng.

Zhongli fought the urge to inhale your soft scent. Sweet, powdery like lilies and dusk and something tender he wanted to bite—

—And he tasted blood in his mouth to stop his fangs from descending onto your exposed neck, nearly shook from the force it took to not bend you over his desk.

It would leave a mess. And Hutao would add it to his tab.

Even now you tempted him with coy glances, a bare shoulder, and sometimes a lingering touch in the space between his cuff and gloves—sharp like the sting of the formidable Raiden’s electro bolts.

“Do you want to know what I learned today, Xiansheng?” You had taken to calling him that instead of his mortal name one day. Zhongli wasn’t quite sure why, but he liked how it sounded on your lips.

He smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his suit and shuffled the papers on his desk while shifting to hide the stiffness in his pants. “Pray, do tell.”

You leaned forward, settling your weight on the heavy oak table. “I heard you’re rutting right now.”

Zhongli nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“Rut, heat, season—Hutao told me.” You shrugged as if the topic was something mundane. “She said you rut every spring, but that it’s unusually strong this year for some reason. Something about the aura around you, I think. Why’s that?”

Because of you.

“Not sure,” Zhongli said.

“She also told me about that tea you drink.”

He nearly dropped his cup of tea. Damn the woman. Spilling all my secrets. And there wasn’t a single thing he could do—he was on her payroll.

“What about it?” he asked, trying for confidence.

“Lily bulb tea,” you continued, scrutinizing his cup, “apparently it helps calm you down and dampens the urge to fuck.”

Zhongli’s dick hardened.

“So does it?”

“What?”

“The tea. Does it help with your urges?” You jerked your head at the drink, curious.

Not when you’re around.

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

He wasn’t sure what to say, but finally decided on: “Not really.”

You cocked your head to the side and bit your lips, Zhongli’s eyes following the pink tongue that peeked through. He wanted to bite them too. They’d be soft and break easily with a little bit of teeth—like almond tofu.

“Oh. Then what’re you going to do about it?”

“The usual.” Tea, masturbating, some rough fucking. Archons knew he’d need it tonight—some sort of distraction from you. He’d have to visit Madame Fang for an escort. She was used to his proclivities—would have someone able to take him.

“The usual? And what would that be?” Zhongli could almost picture you with a pen and paper in hand, a student eager for information.

He groaned internally. Now he was imagining you in a short skirt, stockings, maybe thigh highs—the fat of your thighs spilling from the top of the elastic. The image nearly had him spilling in his pants.

“I don’t think you’d want to know the particulars,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. He shifted again. “It might scare an innocent little girl like you.”

“Innocent?” You huffed. “Little? I’m a grown adult xiangsheng! I’m over the legal age—and actually much more than that. You can hardly call me little or innocent.”

“But you are,” he said indulgently, as one would towards a spoiled pet. “I am immortal, have fought and survived the Archon War. Tell me, pet, can you say the same?”

He was playing with you. Of course the two of you knew you couldn’t compare to him.

“But at the very least, you cannot consider me innocent. I’ve experienced enough things,” you muttered, annoyed.

Zhongli arched an eyebrow.

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, pushing you onto the desk in one fluid motion—papers scattering to the floor like spring pollen. Zhongli pinned your hands over your head to keep you in place, and knocked your legs apart to slot his large frame between you.

“W-What’re you doing, Zhongli?”

He smiled. And there it was: his name always slipped out when you got serious.

Xiansheng.

What?

Xiansheng. He moved closer, spreading your legs further apart as he drew closer to you. You could feel your stomach pressing tightly against the cotton of your suit with each breath, your chest straining against buttons. Don’t be so impolite when your boss is trying to school you.

Xiansheng.

Good girl, he rumbled. You were so curious about the specifics of my rut—what I do to satiate my needs. Shall I show you? They say firsthand experience is the best way to learn.

His voice was heavy, hot against your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he darted a tongue out to lick the delicate shell of your ear.

So sensitive. I wonder if it’s the same in other places. Shall we find out?

Hutao had ordered him to be careful with you—a family friend. Your family owned the most successful funeral parlor in Mondstat, and they sent you to Hutao to learn how she conducted her business in Liyue. Zhongli had agreed. He could keep his hands to himself.

But then you showed up on the steps of Wansheng funeral parlor, and he knew he was fucked.

Do you want it, he whispered, I need to rut, but I always ask for permission.

Jealousy reared its ugly head. He’d done it with others—for decades, maybe even centuries, and it made sense, you couldn’t expect celibacy from him and yet…the thought of other people touching him made you want to rake your hands down his back, gouge, and suck every inch of his skin so others would know he was taken.

That he was yours.

What will it be, pet?

You nodded, eyeing the bulge in his pants. He was big. It was obvious, and it’d probably hurt. A tight fit.

Zhongli smiled—sharp teeth, predatory. I need words.

Yes.

No sooner did you give your permission did he slip your blazer off your shoulders and loosen just enough buttons to push your blouse up and over your head. You wore cotton—a simple white bra, and he wondered if you wore a matching set today.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out: you were already unzipping your pants, sliding stiff fabric down your legs, uncaring if it wrinkled. You’d have to remember to take it to the cleaners.

But later—now, you canted your hips forward, not caring about anything but the man in front of you.

So needy, he murmured, and wet.

His scent intoxicated you, his weight a delicious pressure against your skin.

Zhongli rocked against your clothed pussy, pleased to find you wet. You soaked through the cotton fabric, leaving an imprint in the shape of your pussy on your panties.

Fuck me, xiangsheng, please—I need it.

The scent of your arousal grew stronger with each tap against the wet spot. Heady, mind-numbing, as if a drug was coursing through his bloodstream. The amber of his hands grew darker, a deep, gorgeous fossilized hue, and his pupils thinned—they slitted into a sharp, almost feline countenance, predator to prey.

You would have me? he asked again, stars pulsing in his eyes. In his earlier days, before he was an archon, he had taken people without knowing what it really meant. The shame and guilt of it had made the act feel dirty for a long time—he went nearly fifty years without a single partner to help him through his ruts.

He would not make the same mistake with you.

Just fuck me.

He groaned, pulled your panties to the side—white cotton—and pushed himself into you, the entire length. It was tight and it burned as you struggled, walls stretching to accommodate his dick.

Feels so good, he grunted, you’re so tight, fuck. He lost himself in your tight heat, centuries of manners and poise melting before you.

He moved slowly at first, dragging his length out so that nothing but the tip remained inside before thrusting back in.

You shifted backward, trying to adjust to him. Soft pants, shallow—eyes squeezed shut to focus on each heavy stroke in and out of your cunt. When you started moving against him, seeking friction for yourself, Zhongli sped up. Kept most of his cock inside you with each stroke, prodding around for your sweet spot.

When he finally found it, earning a cry and squeeze around his cock that nearly made him cum, he smiled. Right there, pet?

You gasped, struggled to answer: Yeah, yeah-right there—

He continued to thrust, imprinting your insides with the shape of his dick, hitting that sensitive spot with almost boyish eagerness, but it still wasn’t enough to—

—You reached down to where his dick is splitting you apart and try to rub your clit, the hard nub aching for attention, but Zhongli pushed your hand away.

Allow me.

You almost whine—denial twisting your stomach into a tight knot, leaving your clit wanting, but he didn’t make you wait long. Deft fingers rubbed circles on your clit, grinding, until it swelled enough for him to pinch, hard.

Zhongli, please—

What did I say pet, he hummed and bit your earlobe in admonishment.

Xian-Xiansheng—

You were begging now, pleading—tears dripping from your face like fresh paint on canvas.

Please, xiansheng, please, I need it.

What do you need? He thrust forward, the head almost kissing your cervix.

Need…

Need what? Use your words, pretty pet. Another hard thrust, this time he touched your cervix. Half pain, half pleasure. Lines slowly starting to blur—was it because of his dick or your tears? You couldn’t tell.

You shook your head and fisted your hands in the collar of his suit, wrinkling the fine material as you dragged his face towards you to claim a kiss. Harsh and unyielding, a faint taste of iron between each ragged breath. Now you’d have to take two suits to the cleaners.

Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you’d forgotten how you even got into this situation in the first place. Something about lily bulb tea, alone time…and ruts…heats. Heat—were you the one in heat or was it him?

But it didn’t matter, all you knew was that:

Need to cum.

Zhongli’s pretty lips curled. And so you shall.

With one hand on your hips, he slammed his hips against yours in a punishing rhythm while his other hand battered your clit, thick fingers flicking the hard nub repeatedly until you felt nearly numb from the overstimulation. He felt you tense beneath him, hips rolling incessantly, your cunt gripping him so tightly he knew he was close.

Cum for me, he demanded, almost growling, give it to me.

And you obeyed—gave yourself over to the pleasure, moaning from the waves of pleasure washing over you.

Zhongli groaned as you contracted around him, each tight draw from your pussy taking him closer to his own release. Hips stuttering, he felt his fangs slip through, throbbing from the desire to taste you, bite you, mark you—

—Breed you.

It was messy, each time he pulled back and saw the amount of slick that coated his cock, his mind grew fuzzier, almost stupid. Zhongli couldn’t remember the last time he felt pussydrunk—

You bit the side of his neck as another orgasm ripped out of you, and this time Zhongli let himself go with a harsh growl, pulling out right as he cummed, thick ropes of sticky cum defiling your stomach. It was dizzyingly maddening: his cum moving with each shaky exhale, dripping onto your pussy, and Zhongli thought it was such a waste that it wasn’t inside you, filling you up. Some of it covered your clit—a glistening pearl. He fought every fiber of his being to not bend down and lick it. He didn’t like sweet things, but you were an exception.

“Did you learn a lot?” he finally asked after your breath had steadied a bit.

You were still coming down from your high, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “What?”

“I was teaching you,” he chuckled, voice husky. “Were you a good student? Paying attention?”

You thought about it for a moment. Looked at his disheveled appearance, his golden eyes, the wrinkles in his suit, and found it lacking.

“Not enough.”

“I am in agreement.”

Hutao narrowed her eyes. “You fucked him.”

“And what if I did? It’s not like you’ll fire me,” you replied lightly.

Hutao groaned. “I knew you wanted to fuck him, but I didn’t think you wanted to do it that badly. It’s not exactly good for my business, and you know he’ll stick to you for the rest of his season, right? That’s how it works for him. He doesn’t share.”

“Well good. Because I don’t either.” You wouldn’t have chosen him anyway if he liked to share. “But wait—what do you mean ‘not exactly good for your business?’”

The Wangsheng Director grinned at you. “Look at him: one of the most eligible bachelors in Liyue. Didn’t you notice that we have a large number of young clients? They come to Wangsheng because of him. I don’t care who Zhongli fucks as long as they give me their money—it keeps my beloved Wangsheng as the most profitable funeral parlor in Liyue.”

“Of course you would say that.” You laughed and thought about all the times your parents praised Hutao. “No wonder my parents sent me here to learn from you.”

Hutao winked. “Of course! Making money is the second best thing I’m good at.”

“What’s the first?”

“Death.”

uhhh i wrote this one about six-ish months ago too...been busy with zine work but hopefully when I'm done I can write more reader insert smut :') (also sorta tried a new style of dialogue lmao back when I wrote this)

Murata, also known as the God of War and the Lady of Fire, was a Pyro Archon and a member of The Seven who presided over Natlan.

先生 - xiānsheng. Has two main definitions: the first is teacher, the second is mister (Mr); gentleman; sir. Both suit Zhongli very well in this fic ;)

Dried lily bulb【百合】 is usually recommended in TCM (traditional Chinese medicine) clinics to treat coughs, dry throats and relieve heat. (But IRL, this doesn’t actually help with the horny feels LOL.) 

Zhongli as Morax has darker brown/amber skin tone on arms, so I chose to depict this in the fic as skin darkening when aroused. I also put a photo of something similar on an actual body. 

[itsnotmourn]

the pristine cut update to slay the princess is pretty cool

(i talk about my au below but there will be spoilers for the game)

OH MY GOD IM GOING TO END MYSELF ITS SO GOOD. i guess i'll start one by one about the game routes and what that brings for the spooky month ladies

i couldn't decide with one specific route so i decided to make alternative endings for them! no need to choose between endings. makes life easier. case in point: lila, pump's mum and patty, as they can split into other endings in the third chapter.

lila

lila gets her good ending as a human being instead of a ghost who cheered

pump's mum

i'm not including most things from this route in the au as the game goes dark here (but it's a beautiful dark, watch a playthrough when you can!)

i did notice a theme of "i'm not happy here" and "the world moves on, and i'm still here" and i think i will be using that the most here to reflect of them working so far from home and being unable to leave to see their kids.

so in my au, this route will be reworked by me until we get some canon material about pump's dad's feelings about work

actress

soft vore vs hardcore cannibalism (?) as a metaphor for devotion. amazing.

patty

oh yeah, patty is one of the princesses now, with john as her skeptic foil!

she actually fits more with the drowned grey route than the cage as she wears a funeral dress and all. however, i like the cage's design more with the head separated from the body lol

then i figured... john is smart, logical and questions the strange, which makes him a good fit to be the skeptic.

carmen

the game updates this route pleasantly. not a lot, but it's completes the route more!

in the apotheosis route, you can try to run or attack but either ending is the same. now, you can successfully attack her!

though, fun fact: all the princesses don't really react to pain. however, the tower/apotheosis both scream; that's so fun to me as they view themselves as godlike and resistant to wound.

radford/contarian in this route is also funny to me because imagine standing against a blinding god with unimaginable power and going "we can beat her lmao"

jaune

uhhhh nothing much for jaune update-wise, but i felt bad if i didn't include her so...! she's here :]

oh and one last thing:

that's y/n

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.9

This all of S1E2. Enjoy! I'll see y'all in a couple of weeks for the next part. Lemme know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

Previous part - Next part

---

A few days had passed since Lee’s funeral and life on the Yellowstone was starting to return to normal.  Y/n was next to Rip against the fence of the round pen watching as Kayce’s horse put John into the sand.

“That is some gift,” the foreman commented.

She watched uncomfortably as the stallion careened around the pen and into the gate before successfully unseating John again.

“That’s one rank son of a bitch right there.  You ought to take him chest high in the river see how much buck he’s got then,” Rip suggested.

John shook his head, “this is a job for a young man with rubber bones.  That horse will make a hand out of someone.”

“Don’t recall him exploding on Kayce like that,” she commented pointedly when she pushed off the fence to collect Jimmy for his unfortunate job.

All the hands had gathered around the round pen to watch the scene that was about to unfold.  On either side of y/n were Ryan and Colby who did not share her concern for Jimmy as he was duct taped to the saddle.  In her head she was already planning on how to tell her brother what was going on with his ‘gift’.

“20 on the horse,” Ryan bet.

Colby added his own bet, “I got 40 on the wall.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at them and punched them both in the arm.  She caught the roll of tape that John threw their way and ran it through her hands nervously.

“I’d expect some resistance,” Ryan commented sarcastically, causing his girlfriend to groan.

Jimmy looked over at them, “define resistance.”

A level of unease settled in the pit of y/n’s stomach as she watched as the stallion twisted himself in knots in an attempt to unseat Jimmy.  Ryan placed a hand at the small of her back, rubbing to comfort her.  She smiled gratefully at him before pulling out a cigarette to light.

“I do not miss being low man,” he joked as the horse continued to throw shapes.

John looked over at them, “low man’s what turns you into cowboys, it’ll make him one too.”

“I don’t recall you ever getting strapped to a horse tryna kill you when you was low man Ry,” y/n teased.

Colby gave her shoulder a shove, “you wouldn’t have noticed if he was ‘cause you’d have been too busy staring at his ass.”

“Shut the fuck up Colby.  Dad is right there he’ll hear you,” she hissed.

After a short while, the rest of the hands returned to their jobs around the barn, leaving just John and Rip against the round pen fence.  Y/n rode out past the corral with Lloyd to check on the herd, a horrible feeling in her gut about how it might end.

-/-/-

An hour or so later, y/n had returned from checking cattle to see that Jimmy was still strapped to the stallion.  At least it seemed to be coming to an end as he was no longer broncing the whole way round and just cantering.  After putting Comanche away, she returned to the round pen to join Ryan and Colby on the fence.  Ryan adjusted himself so that his arm was behind her back which she leant into.

“Well you’re almost a winner,” Colby said, looking at how the horse was starting to flag.

Ryan watched on, “day ain’t over yet.”

Y/n looked over to where Jamie had joined her father and Rip by the fence.  He was clearly in ‘lawyer mode’ and watched as they exchanged words before heading to the barn to continue their conversation.

“You gonna see what that’s about?” Her boyfriend asked.

She shook her head, “I’m not getting involved in any of that stuff.”

The boys left her alone on the fence where she watched Jimmy carefully, waiting for the horse to finally stop out of exhaustion.

Eventually, after what seemed like far too long for y/n, and several cigarettes later, the stallion finally came to a halt in the centre of the round pen.  She rushed off the fence to help Rip undo the tape around the stirrups and caught Jimmy when he collapsed off the horse.  

“You good?” She asked when they reached the side of the round pen.

Jimmy coughed, “I think I might be dead.”

“Welcome to cowboying,” y/n joked, “this whole fucking thing was uncalled for though.  Poor horse never gave Kayce any problems on the rez.”

He looked at her confused, “Kayce?”

“My twin brother, the most outcast Dutton.  He lives on the reservation with his wife and my nephew. Apparently the horse is some sort of gift but I can’t see how,” she explained.

She followed Jimmy back towards the barn, opting to take out the colt she’d been working with to see how he was coping with everything.  The familiar routine of grooming and tacking the horse up helped soothe the anger under her skin.

When she passed John still stood at the round pen she spoke, “I’m taking this one out.  Might miss dinner, don’t wait up for me.”

Y/n didn’t wait for her dad to respond, instead mounting up and taking off towards the mountains.

-/-/-

A few hours later, y/n had found a spot by the creek to sit and watch the sunset.  The colt had responded well to the work she’d been doing with him and was currently grazing close to her.  As she sat facing the mountains, listening to the creek and noises from the forest, y/n thought through the chaos of the last few weeks.  She felt exhaustion deep in her bones, the loss of Lee sinking in.

Her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of a horse picking its way through the grass to her spot by the water.  She looked around to see Ryan dismounting, leaving his horse to graze by the colt.  They didn’t exchange any words as he sat down beside her, they’d spent long enough together that he didn’t need to ask how she was to know all that was going through her mind.  Ryan slipped off his jacket and put it round her shoulder.  Y/n slipped her arms into it, reveling in the warmth and smell of his cologne wrapping around her.

“Seems you’ve worked your magic on him,” he said after a little while.

She nodded, “told you he just needed to work out how to trust himself.  He’ll make a good ranch horse in a few years.”

“You eaten anything since breakfast?” Ryan asked, knowing she would be avoiding the main house.

Y/n shook her head, “told dad not to wait up for me.”

He stood up, brushed the grass off his jeans and held his hand out to her expectantly.  She raised her eyebrows at him curiously but took his hand anyway, allowing herself to be pulled up.  They made their way to where the horses were quietly minding their own business and mounted up.

“Race you back to the barn?” Ryan challenged.

Y/n smiled, “you’re on.  I’ll warn you though, this boy has got some speed in them.”

Without waiting for a countdown, she clicked the colt forward into a lope and Ryan laughed, taking off after her.

-/-/-

After having dinner in the bunkhouse, y/n was sat at the table with Lloyd playing solitaire.

“Your father not gonna question why you’re having dinner and spending your evenings with us not up at the house?” He asked.

Y/n looked up from her cards, “it was part of the deal when I moved back in that he doesn’t get to question where I spend my time.  This is where my friends are.  Besides, the less time I’m in the same room as my sister the better for everyone concerned.”

She was distracted from their conversation by Ryan exiting the bathroom with his towel around his waist.

“You ain’t exactly subtle there darling,” Lloyd teased her, “everyone gonna know if you keep ogling him like that.

Y/n laughed, “after 8 years being subtle about my ogling I think I’m entitled to stare at my boyfriend if I want to.”

Their game of solitaire was disrupted by Fred pulling Jimmy off his bunk and pulled his shirt down to reveal the still healing ‘Y’ on his chest.  She made to interrupt the exchange but Lloyd gently pushed her back into the chair to deal with it.  Ryan headed over to her, dropping into Lloyd’s empty chair and draping an arm over the back of her chair.

“I’m not a fan of you being here while Fred’s around,” he voiced, “guy’s an asshole.”

She smiled at him, “sounds very overprotective of you Ry.”

“Waited years to voice it out loud sweetheart, can’t blame me for it,” Ryan pointed out.

They sat in quiet for a little while, Ryan pointing out where a card could go every so often but otherwise just enjoying being in each other’s company.  When she’d finished her game, y/n gathered her stuff and bid goodbye to the hands to return to the house for the night.  Ryan grabbed his jacket to walk her back.

“I didn’t ask before but I’m gonna now,” he started, “are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, “no.  I don’t know what I’m feeling but it certainly isn’t okay.  It feels like everyone else has moved on from him dying already.  They’re all so focused on burning the world down that it feels like they never actually stopped to mourn, y’know?  For 8 years it felt like he was my only ally in that godforsaken house and now he’s just… gone.  And I never got to say goodbye or tell him how much he meant to me.  Now I never get to have a conversation with my big brother again.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he hugged her tightly when they stopped in front of the house, “that’s a lot going on in that head of yours.”

They parted ways and Ryan watched her close the door behind her before he headed back to the bunkhouse.  Y/n headed through the house to her room, stopping in the living room when she saw the fire was still going on and John was sat with a glass of whiskey.

“Everything okay dad?  I told you not to wait up for me.”

John looked over at his youngest daughter, “not exactly.  It looks like we’re gonna have to cremate Lee.

“Just one question, do the ends justify the means?” She asked.

He sighed at her loaded question, “it’s to protect Kayce.”

“Whatever it takes to protect him,” y/n responded, “I don’t want to know anymore that could incriminate her.  Lee would understand why especially after all these years.  It’s about time you protected Kayce too.  Goodnight dad.”

---

Tag list: @child-of-of-the-sunshine @kendallroydefender