#How dare you Anon... you bastard :<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ask-rain-world-characters]

Hey Moonsi...

Mind if I

*eats a neuron*

"Why...!? That hurts me! P-Please don't do that!"

[chuluoyi]

only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre/warnings: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

general masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

[satorusugurugurl]

If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!

Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞

Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭

Hi Anon!

This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!

Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.

Word Count: 3,706

Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut

A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!

Part Two

She Likes it Like That

“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.

Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”

“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”

“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”

“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”

The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.

The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.

One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.

“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”

“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.

“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”

“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.

“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”

Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.

You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.

“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”

“I-I uh—”

“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”

It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.

“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”

“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.

“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”

You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.

“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”

“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”

Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.

“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”

Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.

What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.

You fucking loved it.

Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”

“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”

“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.

Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.

This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.

The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.

“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”

“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.

“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”

“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”

“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.

Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.

Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.

“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”

Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.

One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.

Yeah, he was going to let you cum.

Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.

Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.

“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”

“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.

“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”

You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.

“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”

“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”

Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.

Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.

“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”

“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.

“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”

Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.

“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”

You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.

“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”

With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.

His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.

The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.

After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.

“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”

You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.

“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.

After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”

“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”

The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.

“Did you bring home my mochi?”

In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”

[novaursa]

https://youtu.be/qillYsPzEs0?si=zWRzrkWUSQ-jRaTA

Can you do this just with the Targaryens and Lannister? Sister!reader Targaryen vs Cersie Lannister 🫣🙏🏼

Fire and Gold

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Note: In this AU Robert's Rebellion never happened. Rhaegar marries the reader, Ceresi still marries Robert after Lyanna dies in childbirth along with their child.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I hope this was what you had in mind, dear anon. The story is fresh from the oven.

You and Rhaegar have always known how to draw a crowd. The smallfolk line the roads, banners flapping in the breeze as cheers follow your every step. Rhaegar’s hand rests at the small of your back, his touch familiar and comforting. The two of you move through the throng with practiced grace, your smiles reflecting the adoration in the eyes of those gathered. The royal tour has been a triumphant journey so far, a celebration of unity and strength. Yet, beneath the surface, tensions simmer, particularly when it comes to the Lannisters.

It’s no surprise that Cersei Lannister would try to disrupt your journey. Tywin’s golden daughter has never hidden her disdain for you. You, the sister who Rhaegar chose over her, who embodies all that she desired but could never possess. Her presence is almost expected as you approach the encampment set up for the royal party. When you step inside the tent, the air is thick with unspoken tension. Rhaegar’s jaw tightens beside you, and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere like a gathering storm.

Inside, Robert Baratheon looms, his massive form imposing even in stillness. Cersei stands at his side, her face twisted in fury, her eyes burning with a hatred you’ve known since you were both young girls at court. The very air seems to crackle between you. But your attention is drawn to your children and theirs, lined up in a tense, volatile standoff. Your eldest son, Aelor, stands tall, his eyes a mirror of Rhaegar’s determination. Blood stains the edge of his blade, and a long, angry gash mars Joffrey’s cheek. The boy’s face is contorted with pain and rage, his hand pressed against the wound.

“What in the name of the gods happened here?” Rhaegar’s voice is a sharp, commanding presence in the room. The knights and guards around you tense, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Robert spits, his voice dripping with contempt. “Your damn spawn attacked my son. Maimed him, Targaryen. That’s what happened.”

Aelor’s voice rings out, clear and unwavering. “He insulted us first. He insulted me, my brothers and sisters. He insulted you, Father, and you, Mother. When he drew his blade, I defended us.”

Joffrey, clutching his wounded cheek, shrieks in a high, grating voice. “Lies! He called me a Lannister bastard, and then he—”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze locking onto Cersei. It is an open secret in the court that her children bear none of the Baratheon traits, their golden hair and green eyes a reflection of the Lannister line. You’ve never spoken of it openly, but now, the accusation lingers in the air, unspoken but heavy. Cersei’s lips press into a thin line, her fury palpable.

“How dare you,” she hisses, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Your vile little whelps—”

“Enough.” Rhaegar’s voice cuts through the tumult like a blade. “They are children, Cersei. This matter is settled.”

“Settled?” Cersei’s face flushes crimson. She turns to Robert, desperation sharpening her tone. “You will let this stand, my lord? He has harmed our son!”

Robert’s eyes flicker between Rhaegar, your children, and his wife. His face is flushed, whether from drink or anger, you cannot tell. For a moment, the entire tent holds its breath, waiting for the King’s decree.

But Rhaegar steps forward, his presence filling the space. “This is over. Children quarrel. It will not be escalated further.”

Cersei’s expression is a mask of fury, her body taut with indignation. Her eyes meet yours across the tent, and for a heartbeat, it’s as if the world narrows to just the two of you. There, in her gaze, you see the depth of her resentment, the wound to her pride that will never heal. You hold her stare, your silence as cutting as any word you could utter.

Cersei’s movements that soon follow are a blur, her hand snatching the dagger from Robert’s belt with a ferocity that sends a jolt of shock through the tent. She lunges at you, the blade aimed with a deadly precision that could only be born from hate. Instinct takes over, and you reach out, catching the weapon with your bare hand before it can pierce your heart.

The sharp steel bites deep into your palm, the pain immediate and excruciating. Blood wells up, spilling over your fingers and dripping onto the ground. Gasps echo through the tent, but no one dares to intervene. Robert’s roar reverberates around you, filled with anger and disbelief. “Cersei, what are you doing?!”

Your children’s cries pierce the air, frantic and terrified. Their small voices, shrill with fear, tear at your heart. The sight of their mother locked in a deadly struggle, blood pouring from your hand, is too much for them to bear. But you can’t look away from Cersei, can’t afford a single moment of distraction.

Her face is contorted with fury, a rage so intense it seems to consume her. “You ruined everything!” she screams, her voice raw. “You were supposed to be nothing more than a bargaining chip, another mad Targaryen girl! But instead, you took him—took the life that should have been mine! And now I’m shackled to this brute, trapped in a prison of my own making because of you!”

“You chose this,” you retort, your voice low, steady, despite the pain searing through your arm. “You and your father wanted too much. You thought you could seize the crown, twist the realm to your liking. But it was never yours to take.”

Her eyes flash, and with a snarl, she presses down, driving the blade further into your grip. The pain is blinding, but you refuse to let go, even as the dagger slices across your forearm in a brutal arc. You cry out, the sound sharp and involuntary, as the blade carves a deep, angry line from wrist to elbow. Warm blood streams down your arm, pooling at your feet.

The lords and ladies around you recoil, horrified, but none move to intervene. Fear holds them frozen in place, their eyes wide, their faces pale. The tent, filled with the sound of your children’s desperate sobs, seems to close in around you.

“Look at you,” Cersei hisses, her voice dripping with venom. “Bleeding for a throne you think you’re owed, just like your father. You’re no different from him. Mad, arrogant, and dangerous.”

“And you,” you bite back, your voice shaking with pain and fury, “are nothing but a bitter, power-hungry fool. You think you can cut me down? You think you can break me? I am not my father, and I will not be cowed by you.”

With a furious cry, she shoves the blade again, but you twist, forcing the weapon away. The dagger slips from her grasp, falling to the ground with a dull thud. You stumble back, clutching your bleeding arm, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Pain throbs through every nerve, but you stand your ground, refusing to show weakness.

Rhaegar is at your side in an instant, his face ashen with worry. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice tight with concern, his hands gentle as he examines your injured arm. “Gods, what has she done to you?”

Robert steps forward, his face a mask of barely restrained fury. “Have you lost your senses, woman?” he growls, rounding on Cersei. “You draw a blade on the Princess of the Realm, on your king’s daughter? Are you so eager to invite Aerys’ wrath upon us all?”

Cersei glares back at him, her chest heaving, her hands shaking. “I don’t care!” she cries, her voice breaking. “All my life, I’ve been promised things that were taken away. I was promised Rhaegar, promised a crown, and now I’m nothing! Stuck here, with you, and this—this farce of a marriage. I’m trapped, and it’s all her fault!”

“Enough.” Robert’s voice is like a hammer striking stone, his eyes blazing with anger. “You’ve gone too far. This is beyond foolish, beyond dangerous. You think Aerys will turn a blind eye when he hears of this? His daughter bleeding at your hands?”

The name of your father seems to cut through her fury, a flicker of fear passing over her face. The threat is real—everyone knows the Mad King’s unpredictable wrath, his unquenchable thirst for vengeance. And you, his beloved daughter, lying wounded at her feet? The consequences could be catastrophic.

Rhaegar’s arms wrap around you, his touch gentle as he guides you away from the scene. “We need to get you to the maester,” he says softly, his voice tight with worry.

You nod, the pain throbbing with each heartbeat, but you keep your gaze on Cersei, refusing to look away. “Remember this, Cersei,” you say, your voice steady despite the agony. “You brought this on yourself. You chose your path, just as I chose mine. And you’ll find that you’ve made an enemy you can’t afford to have.”

With that, Rhaegar leads you out of the tent, your children trailing behind, their faces pale and tear-streaked. The lords and ladies part before you, their whispers already spreading like wildfire through the camp.

This skirmish is over, but the repercussions are only beginning.

[missswritesalot]

Can I request something with Robb stark x shy reader. She is very quiet and a good wife too rob, but she loves seeing him be a true king to his people so when someone comes along and tries to knock him down a few pegs she speaks up and reminds said person of who they are speaking to leaving Robb speechless and a little turned on. You can end it there or add in a little smut if you want. Thank youuu

A/N requests open! Hope you enjoy, anon! There is just a sprinkle of nsfw at the end, but I tagged it with smut just to be safe ;) i think i used the word shy like a million times. Reblog/Comment if you want more!

You and your husband, Robb, were touring the North and providing supplies to the smallfolk to support them through the Winter. There were many grievances to address and you held court at all the small towns.

You hated the attention, and it was a small mercy that you rarely had to speak. Even when Robb needed your counsel, he asked for it in private so you weren’t embarrassed. The eyes of the people on you were enough to mortify you, yet you bore your discomfort silently and stood by his side.

At one such hearing, Robb ordered the Lords of the lesser Northern houses to visit. You were seated next to him on your throne, Greywind sleeping on the raised floor at your feet.

“The old ways have served the North fruitfully for years. Listen carefully, one war does not make a boy a man and you are yet to know the ways of the world.” Lord Karstark said, wagging a wrinkled finger at Robb.

It was the third time he had questioned your husband in front of his Council. You were furious.

All Robb had suggested was reducing the great burden of supporting lesser houses with tithes from the peasants. Many smallfolks families were missing men and weapons due to the war, and winter was coming. It would be his first Winter as King of the North and he wanted all his subjects to survive, not just the noblemen.

You thought it was admirable. You also knew how hard he worked, spending almost all nights this week pouring over papers and accounts.

“Don’t forget yourself, I am the King,” Robb chided him. Greywind woke up and went to him, a silent threat.

“No man that calls himself King is a true-“ Lord Karstark began in his crotchety old voice. Anger coursed through your veins. How dare this senile old man try to insult your husband.

You cleared your throat. The hall fell silent. Robb frowned and turned to look at you. His wife was a woman of few words but they were all worth hearing.

“My King husband would have no need of repeating his station if you would remember it, my Lord. And if you cannot, then perhaps in the evening of one’s life we must accept our limitations and resign to things we are capable of.” You said calmly, yet sharply. Robb’s jaw dropped in awe.

It took Karstark’s slow mind a moment longer to process.

“Control your tongue, woman,” he said said, eyes wild, pointing to you.

“Disrespect the Queen and you will feel my blade,” Robb yelled, stepping down from the throne and pulling out Ice, just as the direwolf by his side leapt into action.

Karstark did not know when to keep hush. He retorted back sarcastically, and the altercation ended with him being dragged to the dungeons for his impunity. The other lords were also greatly displeased with him, for now they had no chance of changing the King’s mind about restoring their allowances.

You were glad to see the end of the day, and walked into the chambers of your current abode with Robb trailing behind you.

“Lord Karstark demands hot oil for his feet, did you hear it, darling?” Robb said, crushing the piece of correspondence he read. “To send his demands with servants even when imprisoned. The gall of him.” He chuckled.

“I’ve had it up to here with that old bastard,” you said angrily. You let your hair down and started running your fingers through it roughly. The more you thought of it, the more your anger flared.

“How dare he set foot in your court, dine and dwell in our hospitality, and feel entitled to disrespect you like that? I will not stand for it, Robb.” You said, tugging at the lacing and stepping out of your gray court dress.

“Age does not guarantee wisdom, darling. Experience does. And the old fool has none.” Robb said, walking up to you and resting his hands on your shoulders. He pushed your hair to the side and kissed up your neck from your shoulders to your ear.

You tilted your head to give him more access. After a while he turned you around and kissed your mouth. You savored his languid kisses. His hands slowly pushed your chemise over your shoulders till it hung just above your breasts.

You pulled away, and leaned back, his strong arms holding you up.

“I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, love” you said shyly. You were bold in your anger but the shyness was starting to creep in now. “I love you, and I cannot bear to see you insulted after you pour your soul into this Kingdom.”

“Don’t be sorry, you were fantastic,” Robb said, apparently unable to keep his lips off of you. You gasped as he nipped at the bottom of your throat. “I would like to see the wolf in my little wife more often.”

You giggled at his words, and he walked you backwards till your calves hit the bed. Your chemise dropped to your hips and his hands made quick work of finding your breasts.

Your hands came up to cover yourself.

“Robb, the candles,” you said, eyes wide. His own blue ones lit up with mirth.

“I know now that you are not shy, let me see what is mine, darling.” He whispered, pushing your chemise to the floor. You stepped out of it, naked as the day you were born. Your skin felt hot under his hungry gaze.

“Lie back, Y/N,” he said, licking his lips and pushing you down on the bed. “I wish to show you some of my appreciation.” He knelt before you with a wink.

Robbs hands found your knees and he spread them apart. Your hands twisted into his auburn hair in surprise.

And there was nothing shy about the sounds you made that night.

[helluvapoison]

Okay okay I think I got it!!

Imagine the Vees entering like a side room or something and finding cannibal! Reader (literally) tearing into some random person that was caught snooping around by them (reader). How would they react do you think?

No pressure to write this if you don't want too. Love your writing, your recent Zestial one was so cute!!!

-Cannibal Anon :))

Nice To Eat You

[i]

The Vees x Cannibal!Reader

warning: suggestive and dark themes ahead, blood and gore, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism

Admittedly, you’d gotten rather careless with your beloved around. Who can blame you when they make you feel on top of the world? With you at their side they felt a bit untouchable too. More so than usual. However someone had broken into their dressing room and wrote something foul on the mirror. You saw red. This wouldn’t happen again.

Cannibals were rather good at sniffing out something rotten.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Witnessing crocs make a comeback in Hell was the worst sight she’s seen to date

• Blood doesn’t particularly bother her, though she hates the mess of it all

• Despite the jokes shared between the two of you, it was sort of unspoken that you would keep your dietary habits away from your girlfriend

• She couldn’t help the gasp when she looked up from her phone, seeing blood spilling from your mouth

• You stiffened, matching her wide eyed expression

• Fuck, you never wanted her to see you like this

• Whipping around, you spat out the flesh and began furiously wiping your face with your sleeve

• “Stop!” Velvette shouts, daring to rush over and grab your shoulder

• Suppressing a flinch, you freeze at her command but refuse to face her

• “Who’s this then?”

• Your reply is bitter like the taste on your tongue, “The rat.”

• “Good.” You feel her grip on your shoulder tighten, “Make Joanne clean up when you're done. Oh, and dollface? Brush your teeth before you come find me, yeah?”

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He thought he meant it when he said he wouldn’t be grossed out by your food selection

• Though the meal was the same, seeing your entire front drenched in blood, red dripping down your chin was entirely different from date nights with fancy ambience and classy decor

• Shaking his head from side to side, he dials the shock out of his system and forces on a passive expression

• You two have already come so far! He can’t have his date mate tiptoeing around him now

• “Do I need a new assistant?” Vox asks, feigning a disinterested tone

• Your own surprise dilutes slowly, you were so sure Vox was bluffing when he said he could handle this

• He’s rather proud of himself that he was convincing enough to fool you

• “No. S’the bastard who wrote on your mirror.”

• “Excellent! Feed what’s left to Vark, let’s clean you up and go celebrate! Wash that shitty sinner taste out of your mouth with some wine, hm?”

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Unbothered by blood, he likes making you dish out his punishments while he sits back and watches

• “Dinner and a show,” He’ll joke, “Like killing two birds with one stone!”

• As sadistic as he is, Val doesn’t have the patience to draw out torture

• If he wants results, he’ll get them immediately or kill someone in the process

• The two of you are similar in that regard or you would’ve brought the half eaten body to him when the sinner was still kicking and screaming

• Surprise hits his face when he opens the door and fades just as fast

• “Aw,” Val clicks his tongue, “You couldn’t have waited for me, monstruo? You know how much I like to see you eat.”

• You toss a bloodied grin in his direction, “Got hangry. This was the cynic that said your films were shit.”

• He chuckles darkly, leaning over to cup your face and wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb, “What do they think now?”

• “Nothin’ much.” You join his amusement with a breathy laugh

• Stretching your neck up to meet him halfway, Val kisses you right on the lips. His tongue briefly taking over your mouth, swiping away the copper taste and replacing it with his own

• “Come. Let’s get you in the bath, monstrou.”

• You quirk a brow at him, “A real one or a cat bath?”

• Laughing, Valentino taps your nose with an extra finger, “Dealer’s choice.”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ cannibal anon i love you!!! thanks again!!

[running-with-kn1ves]

Drunken Stupor

A/N: this is based off of that drunken yan gangster idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I might rewrite it or do it differently but this is 4 u my 1 gangster lovin' anon for now!

OG Yandere Gangster Drabble (nsft) w/ da Yan Gangster Ramble

TW: kidnapping, drunken yandere, noncon kissing (no nsft), threats, toxic behavior, 

Puzzles, accompanied by whatever news channel you could get through. Paint-by-number pictures, and shitty DVD’s from another time. Horribly thin sheets and an aching back--- you were completely, utterly, and seemingly irrevocably, isolated. The tight handcuffs around your feet only allowed you to hop around the house, barely making it to the front door before you tripped over the rug and nosedived into the cold, black floor. 

How long has it been? When was the last time you felt the spring wind on your face? You weren’t even allowed to open the windows, out of your captors fear of you screaming for help, even with him right next to you. He gave you countless things to keep yourself entertained, whether they be knitting grandma-like sweaters or taking up a different artistic hobby, anything that could keep you in one spot for long without the need to move or the option to hurt yourself. 

You were tempted to scream, to throw your half-finished puzzle at the wall and destroy the nice room set up for you that once belonged to the lone bachelor-- who, was much later than usual tonight. Your throat was too sore to keep up with the screaming however, and you pushed it to the back of your mind to try again tomorrow. If he came home all of a sudden and found you screaming at the ripe hour of 11 PM, he might do more than just threaten with one of his switchblades. 

You hated being around the bastard, feeling so terrified and weak like maybe today would finally be your last-- but at this point, you were going insane being by yourself for so long. Even a nice screaming match with him until your voice finally left you would more desirable than watching another 80s thriller that would haunt your dreams, alone. For someone who wasn’t home very often, he certainly had an extensive collection of old gangster movies, romcoms too even. But you couldn’t put Sixteen Candles on again without wanting to rip your eyes out-- not even one of his five million copies of The Godfather. Who needs that many copies of the same movie?

Your exhausted, beaten-down brain jolted at the sound of someone jerking at the door handle. The door practically thumped with the lock against the wall, dust raining as it was violently ripped back and forth. But then came the familiar jangle of an overloaded key ring, one you had heard most nights for what you can only assume has been the past month. 

Finally, your spiked anxiety crashed when you saw those familiar, much-too-shiny-for-a-gangster-to-be-wearing black leather shoes thump inside. You peaked your head out from your sitting position near the opened bedroom door, trying to get a glimpse without getting up and alerting him of your presence. It was inevitable for him to come to you, his kidnapee, but you tried to postpone the smothering for as long as possible. Maybe now was the time to chuck that puzzle. 

“You reallyyy gotta hold *hic* on mee…”

Mismatched footsteps trudged, stopping first to hit the corner of what you could only assume was the livingroom loveseat.

“Move outa ma way, couch! ..Even though you… treeat me *hic* badlyy..”

You heard the raking of fingernails on the couch cushions, the clink of a bottle rolling on the ground back and forth. You didn’t dare look back through the door crack. Maybe you should shut it? Lord knows what that would cause him to do, though. 

“You still gotts’a hold on me…” 

The sing-songy voice came closer, belonging to the madman you dreaded the return of. Within the crack of the door you saw a dark silhouette, the TV casting a face-shadowing glow that made you just an inch more terrified. 

“Hey, baby…” He hiccuped. 

“Well that’s new,” You started, looking away from him back to your puzzle. “When did I become your ‘baby’?” 

He moaned thoughtfully, thinking about your rhetorical question. “After you kidnapped me, I suppose?”

Maybe it was wrong to poke the beast, especially because he smelled like dirty whiskey and had three buttons too loose on his dress shirt, showing a deep scar betwixt his faint chest hair. A vulnerable image he’d never let you witness soberly. 

“Hrmmm….” He pushed his entire weight on the door, letting it creak open as he looked at you with a smile. 

“I dunno…maybe.” He laughed a little, giving a small snort like a schoolboy hearing his first nasty joke. 

You rolled your eyes. Damn, as if you weren’t on edge before, now you were going to have to deal with the equivalent of a murderous toddler who’s been threatening to hurt you ever since you were first brought here. Drunken fools were best left at the bar. 

But your icy demeanor didn’t sway his unsettingly good mood, the gangster opening the door all the way to flop onto your (unwillingly) shared bed. He dug his face into the sheets that smelled like you, looking at the back of your head that was pressed against the edge of the mattress.

“Was thinkin’ bout’cha…” He murmurs, tugging at a strand of your hair from behind. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ to the boys, ‘bout how pretty you are..” 

The short yanks at your hair to get your attention were becoming annoying, though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of glaring face-to-face. 

“Told em’ how nice you look when yer sleepin’, when ya brush ya teeth, sayin’ that they’re not allowed to have ya....”

You hummed in response, trying to bend away to get closer to your puzzle. But you could sense the bubbling in your stomach, could feel that something was coming. Whether it’d be a bunch of slobbered kisses or your early demise, you couldn’t tell. 

“Oh really?” You asked, knowing he’d been adamant on not saying a word or letting make a peep about your existence in his gang-funded condo. 

“Yah, I did. Don’t believe me? Said i’d cut their fingers off, like boss does when some’n fucks up. I’d slam into em, make em watch while I...” 

He went quiet, and you thanked whatever made him. Whatever he said, you didn’t want to know; you’d already had enough of an unwilling look into his violent thoughts. 

“Well, doesn’t matter now, right... ‘cause now I gots’ya here. Mmph,” You hear him kick his shoes off, his face coming up to bury in your hair. “Smellin’ so good, lookin’ so nice fr’ me… wanting you so bad.” 

The sound of him inhaling you, his nose pressed to your neck as he shimmies his head deeper against you like a cat is uncomfortably warm. You feel two hands creep up, looking for your shoulders to push you back and make you more accessible. 

The gangster wasn’t normally so affectionate, so quiet and simple when he spoke. You were waiting for it to be replaced by his normal, angrily resentful behavior, the type that’d pull you by the hair to kiss you, that’d rant about the idiots he’d had to deal with for the day at you. But maybe, just maybe, you were in the clear for now?

“You’re acting weird,” You try to jerk away. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you, okay? Just, let me do my puzzle in peace. Go take a shower or something.”

He’s quick to respond, wrapping veiny arms around your shoulders and dangerously close to your neck. 

“Nuh huh, not unless yer comin’ with me, wanna show how much I loove you,” His head pops up closer to yours, the stressed crinkles under his eyes making him look older. “Cuz’ baby, you reallyy gotta hold on mee..” 

“Stop stop stop.” You couldn’t take the second-hand embarassment of listening him to try to sing again, horribly off key and far too confident in each drawn out word. “What do I have to do to stop you from singing again?”

“I can’t hold it in though. Love’s too strong for you, love.” His disheveled hair, once slicked back in an oily black, now strewn about across his forehead as it nearly covers his eyebrows. He presses his forehead towards you. “Lemme kiss. Told the boys you give the best kisses, lemme prove it..”

“Prove what-- they’re not even here!” You try to go under his arm-barricade, only to be stopped as he practically puts his full weight forward, dragging him with you each time you move. 

“Lovin’ you for so long, jusst a kiss, just one kith..” He reaches for your cheek with his lips, ignoring how you whip your head around in retaliation.

“No, no! You stink like a bar and ciggarettes, get off me.”

He grunts in frustration, biting down on his lower lip as his dark, full eyebrows furrow together. 

“Let me kiss or i’ll.. I’ll gut you like a fish, my lovely..” 

You stopped at that, looking out of the corner of your eye to his pink-tinted cheeks and strong neck that sweated at the sight of you. 

He puts a ringed knuckle to your cheek, huffing as his eyes go half-lidded. His suit was all wrinkled from rolling around on the bed, dirty with the day’s work and bar-stench as he forced you back against the end of the mattress. 

“C’mon, don’t make me say stuff like that just for a kiss…” He whined, scooting closer. “Maybe I’ll start singing again, y’knoww, if y’don’t come close.” 

“Please just… don’t hurt me.” You mumbled, trying to avoid that blank, dark look he often held that came crawling back a moment ago. You didn’t want that sober side right now; this was somehow easier to handle, even if it meant losing your dignity. 

“Don’t wanna, never will,” He hums, staring unbothered at your lips, as if he wasn’t holding you tight enough to suffocate. “S’just kiss me, need it bad..” 

You looked around, as if there was anyone else looking, trying to avoid the task that made you shiver inside. 

But you didn’t get a chance to reject the drunken gangster again, his wet lips coming against the side of your face. He poked the tip of his tongue out, flicking against your lip before going tongue-first into your surprised mouth. 

Anytime he had tried to kiss you, to do anything overtly intimate, the most he released was the silent huffs of a man too wrapped up in himself to let you hear anything of pleasure. But now, you witnessed the lewd shlops of his lips against yours, the neediness of the back of his throat, groaning to be deeper inside of you. 

One of his heavy hands cradled the back of your head, his stupor not caring (or rather, not noticing) how little you moved, how you seemed to be backing into his large palm that massaged your hair. 

“Loved’ya forever, so happy you were so stupid…” He mumbles between licks to the corner of your lip, diving back into the sticky warmth of you. “What kinda… mph, idiot, doesn’t..hugh, report to the police..?” 

With his arm once wrapped around you, the gangster takes your limp wrist to his collar, bringing it to hold his loose tie. He makes you drag him closer, guiding your slow and frowning lips in his one-sided makeout session. 

“Not’ma fault, making your life so much better now.. N’now, you’re mine.” He grins, a stupid little grin from the alcohol and delusion swarming his head as he consumes you, fingers coming to fiddle with your cotton T-shirt as he draws lines down your chest. “My sweet sunshine, all mine, forever n’ ever.” 

[mintpurrfect]

Hi, I really like your work, If possible could you please write a one shot with Taehoon from biral hit and his s/o where his father caught them kissing and what his reaction would be, how he will behave, if not then everything is fine

⩇:⩇⩇ — kiss it better

⤿synopsys﹕ seong taehoon is the type of person who most people classify as "cool". so it was rather unexpected yet somewhat hilarious to find out from his father that he used to be such a clumsy and dumb kid. which he still is.

⤿character﹕ seong taehoon x gn!reader

⤿genre﹕ fluff

⤿warnings﹕ it's mostly just cursing and probably my bad grammar and spellings, but other than that, there's none. not proofread.

⤿note﹕ it's been awhile! I recently just saw this (cuz tumblr didn't give me a notification once again) so I rushed through this since I've got a small burst of inspiration lmao. There's also another anon who asked for a Taehoon fic so, here you go! I hope you guys enjoy this<3

Taehoon was an asshole.

That is what you're currently thinking as you sit down crossed-legged on the floor of the dojang as you stare up at Taehoon who was standing before you.

“You're such an ass!” you exclaimed loudly, glaring at him as you gently rub your forehead.

He grabbed a water bottle and took a sip, completely ignoring your whole existence. This, of course, made you even more annoyed.

How dare he flick you on the forehead really hard and act as if nothing happened? He's absolutely heartless!

“That hurt, you jerk!” once again, you expressed how you were currently feeling, grumbling under your breath about how much of an annoying and mean bastard he was.

As you continued to sulk while still sitting on the floor with a frown on your face, Taehoon's gaze wandered over you, lingering for a few seconds before a soft sigh left his lips.

“Damn it... Let me see.” he mumbled before crouching in front of you, reaching forward and carefully lifting your chin up.

He checked your forehead and saw that it was slightly red, making him realise that he might have used too much strength than intended.

You watch him while remaining silent, noticing how his lips were formed into a thin line and how his eyes narrowed as he observed the red mark on your forehead.

He honestly looks like he's ready to murder someone with how scary and tense his face was. You wonder what other people would think if they saw the two of you in this position. Maybe they would assume that he was threatening you to give him your money or something similar.

As your mind wanders away in your own little world, you failed to register that Taehoon had inched closer, his face nearing yours before his lips made contact with your skin.

It took you a moment to process what was happening, still trying to make sense that Taehoon's lips are on your forehead, softly kissing it.

You blinked a few times in utter confusion and surprise when he pulled away and made eye contact with you. He brought his hand up from your chin towards the side of your face, cupping your cheek as he stared into your eyes.

“There, do you feel better now?” He asks in a casual tone, his face stoic yet the tinge of pink on his cheeks and ears didn't go unnoticed by you, but you decided not to comment on it.

You smiled teasingly, shaking your head, “Nope, it still hurts. Maybe you should kiss me here instead.” you said, pointing towards your lips and puckering it up for extra effect.

Taehoon grumbled, rolling his eyes and averting his gaze for a moment before letting out a deep breath and looking at you with an annoyed expression.

“You little sh... Ugh, fine, but you better stop whining after this and get back to practise, okay?”

“Alright!”

And with that, he closed the gap between the two of you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

You smiled and closed your eyes before kissing him back, enjoying the sweet kiss the two of you shared. His lips were soft against yours and the way he was caressing your skin, drawing small circles on your cheek with his thumb while he kisses you in the most gentle way made your heart flutter.

Lost in the moment, the both of you failed to notice someone opening the door, “Taehoon, could you help me with moving these boxes inside–”

A thud can be heard along with a rather loud gasp, making the two of you pull away from each other and turn towards the source of the noise.

There stood, a wide-eyed Seong Hanseo, who was dramatically covering his mouth with a hand and the box he had was dropped by his feet.

There was an awkward silence that enveloped the dojang for what felt like an eternity, when suddenly, the middle-aged man's face became serious.

You and Taehoon tensed up, preparing yourselves for a scolding to come from the old man. Although, a few moments ticked by and it didn't come. Instead, what greeted the two of you was a father who looked like he was about to cry.

“Ah... You're really grown now... I can still remember the days when I was still changing your diapers like it was yesterday.” Hanseo said, looking towards the large glass window with a reminiscent expression on his face.

“I remember when you were very little, you cried when you accidentally stepped on a dog's poo–”

“Dad, shut up!” Taehoon shouted standing up from his crouched position, glaring daggers at his old man with his face completely red as a riped strawberry.

“Oh, and there was also this time when you fell and slipped down face first when you tried running down the playground slide–”

The day ended with you learning about a bunch of blackmail materials childhood stories of Taehoon. He, unfortunately for him, also had to sit and listen as his father embarrassed him in front of you.

He just knows that you will tease him endlessly about all the things his father was telling you about.

[rikosseen]

Taehoon Seong x Reader: Day trip

Anon request

Taehoon really thought that amongst the most annoying people he’s ever known, Hobin was unmatchable. However, as he’s sitting at the back of the van with you sleeping soundly on his shoulder, Dabin is mockingly making kissy faces while Minji is suppressing her giggles. Worse still, the dads are completely indifferent to the spectacle—in fact, they’re encouraging Dabin. And Taehoon swears he sees his own old man grinning like a monster.

Fuck.

What he wants to do more than anything right now, is to kick their smug faces. But he can’t really do that- with you next to him, and with how cramped it is.

Dabin is cackling at how Taehoon’s eyes are bulging out of his eye sockets, and she can’t help feeling amused when he stiffens as you stir in your sleep.

.

The campsite overlooks a valley of mountains, and in usual circumstances, the view would have been enough to relax just about anyone. That’s unfortunately not the case for Taehoon. Even on a day where he’s meant to be enjoying himself, the man can feel nothing but irritation and anger. Why did he agree to tag along on this trip again? Who’s dumb ass thought this was a good idea?

Fuck. That’s right. You. You did.

Taehoon watches you in betrayal as Dabin and Minji get all up in your personal space, giggling about who knows what. You’re playfully slapping them, and pinching their cheeks, snickering along.

That should be me.

The girls are doing nothing to help. He’s the only one carrying wood. He’s the only one putting up the tents.

Lazy bastards. -Thoughts not directed toward you, of course.

As Taehoon slams the wood he’s been carrying on the ground, Dabin catches his eye, and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. She’s tugging you at the waist while putting up her middle finger. Couldn’t be you, she mouths.

And a vein pulses on Taehoon’s face. He brushes his hands, and begins stomping toward you three. When he reaches where you are, he slaps Dabin away from you, protectively pulling you by his side. Dabin, being the absolute unit that she is, shoves Taehoon aside, and takes your free arm. The two begin to banter, playing tug of war, and you swear your arm is about to rip off.

“How dare you push a woman?!” Dabin snaps.

“Equal rights, equal fights, bitch,” Taehoon sneers.

“You think you own them? Asshole”

“I didn’t say that, dipshit.”

“This shit’s never gonna happen. Me and them would make a better couple anyway,” Dabin is furiously grasping onto Taehoon’s expression like it’s her only source of entertainment.

“What the fuck did you say?”

Before they can continue arguing, Minji steps in to pull you away from the two.

“C’mon, stop riling him up,” she says, giving Dabin a disapproving look.

.

Later that night, as everyone gathers around the campfire to toast marshmallows, Taehoon finally musters the courage to step away and retrieve a small gift— one he’d been saving for all day, despite his nervousness that you might not like it. But when he returns, he finds his spot occupied with Dabin, who has her arm wrapped around you with a triumphant grin plastered on her face. And when she sees Taehoon approaching, she sticks her tongue out mockingly.

This bitch.

[thegnomelord]

What about Monster!AU for prompt 5. Male reader and price please :)

Sure thing anon, made it a mage reader again, was trying to study for a 'lovely' surprise test but inspiration decided to strike me :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot.”

CW:NSFW, switch/power bottom Dragon Price, Male Mage reader, Oral, Anal, shower sex, semi public sex, reader is oblivious for a bit.

Price swears his hair and scales are going to go completely gray because of you.

You've been avoiding him for a week now, and all the base knows why — Price can still hear your desperate voice begging and bargaining with whatever will listen "I'll buy you dinner please-just stay alive- I love you- damn it you slimy bastard don't you dare die on me-" as you try to keep him alive, magic flowing from your arms to heal the gaping hole in his side despite the bullets raining overhead; a valiant knight protecting him like he's a prince instead of a dragon.

And Price can remember the way his heart had fluttered at your words, at the way you had hugged him so firmly to keep him safe as your magic raged all around you like a wild force of nature, at the way you looked at him so tenderly— eyes burning with mana like the gaze of a god he's your most prized possession —right before the blood loss made him black out.

But now that Price was out of the hospital, his side permanently marked with your magic and a hefty load of paperwork on his desk, you were acting like you never said anything. Anytime someone brings it up you just ignore them, ignore him, throwing yourself into training as much as you can. And it's getting on his nerves, his draconic blood making anger and malcontent burn in his bones because you'd looked at him like a mate but now it's like he doesn't exist beyond training and missions.

He knows it's against the rules, knows he shouldn't hope for much when he sets out to find you, but he does. It's not hard; though his sensitive nose easily picks up the stench of magic, it's the lingering mana burrowed into his skin that tugs him in a direction, even the foreign parts of him wanting you. He finds you alone in the training room, the ground around you scorched beyond hell.

"We need ta' talk lad." Price rumbles as he closes the door behind him, the deep thrum of his voice hiding the anxious pressure he feels in his chest.

Your head whips to look at him. Price cherishes the way your eyes soften when you see him like a glittering gem. Then a sea of ice settles over your eyes, and you turn your head back to the target dummy as if looking at Price makes you sick. "Nothing to talk about captain."

"That so?" Price asks like he doesn't believe you, because he doesn't. Ancient instincts tug on his mind and he follows them. You know he knows what's plaguing your mind, both of you are aware of the elephant in the room and Price can see the way your shoulders progressively tense as he draws near. But you're a stubborn fool, you refuse to show how his presence makes your heart beat faster despite how each of his steps rings like a gunshot in your ears.

Your mind fails to conjure up words but you force an "Hmh," out of your throat, trying to ignore how Price is so close to you, the heat of his body radiating into yours. His remaining wing stretches out, scales and leathery membranes barely brushing over your shoulder, but the intent is clear; the claim is clear.

You try to ignore him, ignore yourself, clinging to the sensation of your sharp mana digging into your veins as you summon another bout of magic to shoot at the training dummy, whisps of formless energy quickly forming into your preferred element.

His hand settles on your hip, not enough to make you loose focus just yet. "Because last ah remember," He leans in closer, the smell of black coffee and cigars on his breath. This close he can smell you instead of your magic, his chest rumbling against your back with a happy purr. "you promised me dinner if I lived."

You nearly choke on air, your magic sputtering out like an old car engine. "I-" You whirl around, your noses almost touching from how close you are. "-that's not what I'd meant!"

His heart should break at that, but before it can his sensitive ears pick up how rapidly your heart's pounding in your chest, reptilian eyes noting how you're flushed more than usual, breathing rapidly without even noticing it.

"Really now?" That greedy part in his bones urges him on, begging and pleading for him to just take you. His other hand settles on your shoulder, keeping you in place, close to him just like he wants. "Then ah suppose all that 'bout me bein' a slimy bastard was also not true?"

You want to flinch away but can't, your own body a traitor to you, a deep frown tugging on your lips. "Price, I wasn't-"

"And-" He cuts you off by leaning even closer, his forehead resting against yours and fuck, your head fits perfectly between his horns, like you belong there. "-I must've misheard you when you said you loved me?" He raises an eyebrow, voice both teasing and serious, holding his breath.

Just that small contact of skin on skin has your resolve crumbling like sand, "Listen, just-" You suck in a sharp breath, the situation both bliss and hell for you. “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot. Okay? And just-" You try to stammer the same lies you'd tell yourself every time you'd catch yourself thinking of him more than just your captain (which was way too often).

Price's clawed hand grips your chin and manually closes your mouth, his smooth scales cool against your warm body. You forget to breathe, your eyes flickering all over his face as he smirks, voice deep and guttural like the rumble of moving tectonic plates. "Then I'm an idiot too."

The world goes completely silent as he kisses you, holding your head still so he can claim your lips for himself, his deep purr shaking both of your chests when you submit so easily to him, like getting a gulp of fresh air after years of drowning.

You're so lost in his taste and his scent and just him you don't notice when Price roughly pulls you into the showers, tail and wing and arms holding your body; as if your brain could even conjure the thought of leaving. Bursts of awareness assault your mind every time you part for a breath and to displace a piece of clothing, his sharp claws tickling your skin as he can't wait and just cuts through your remaining clothes.

Clawed fingers grip your hair and tilt your head back, exposing your throat to sharp fangs and you submit easily, trusting him not to hurt you too much. Low sounds rumble in your throat as Price marks you, biting one spot until it bleeds your mana rich blood, greedily drinking up the crimson droplets and soothing the wound with his tongue just enough for the sting to become pleasant before biting again. Bite, lick, bite, lick, bite, lick— chest rumbling with satisfaction he pulls away, "Oh, look at you," He growls, your throat turned into a warzone, "So handsome, like a charming knight."

You snort and grip his hips, the water of the shower raining down the two of you. "Yeah?" You ask as you turn him around, pushing his chest against the wall as you drop to your knees. "Gonna let me lay you?" You ask, kissing down his spine, your rough hands groping and fondling his ass.

"Wanker," Price growls and lifts his tail, revealing his hole to you. You almost cum on the spot from the sight of it, looking every bit what you'd imagined he'd look like. But you don't get to look for long before his tail wraps around your throat, soft underbelly scales scraping against your bruised throat as he pulls you closer. "Only, if you prove your worth."

You don't need a formal invitation, pushing your tongue out as you slobber all over his hole, your hands keeping his asscheeks spread so you can worm your tongue into his hole, feeling him clench around your tongue, his moans ringing like angel song in your ears. His claws tangle in your hair, pushing your head even closer to worship him better. And you do, like a pious believer you lick and suck and nibble around his hole, your nose buried in the space between his ass and tail, barely able to breathe but it's a small price to pay.

Finally he grows greedy for more, his tail releases a fraction and he shoves you, making you fall back on your ass, your cock standing like a flagpole. You only manage to rise up on your elbows before Price jumps on you like the beast he is, thigh powerful thighs bracketing your own, his clawed fingers scraping against your skin as they settle on your shoudlers.

"Now then," Price rumbles like an ancient mountain, reptilian eyes hooded with lust. He feels on top of the world with the way you look at him, like a desperate mutt, your cock hard like a rock between his legs. "Stay still, mighty knight, an-" Price lifts himself up, positioning your cockhead at his puckered rim. "-relax."

The running water muffles your combined groans, his walls hot and tight like the fire in his chest. His weight bears down on you, wing stretching out in a show of pleasure, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants. "Fuck," Price growls, grinding his hips down into yours. "Feel so good, lad."

You grunt, your hands fitting on his hips like they always belonged there. Magic sparks across your arms as pleasure steadily erases your ability to think, but his thick scales keep him safe, a pleased groan leaving his chest as he starts bouncing on you, chasing his own pleasure. You can do nothing but hang on, your hips rising to meet his downward thrust, Price's lips swallowing your moans. You don't have enough sense in your head left to care if anyone was to come in and see you, your mind fully consumed by him.

You cum way too soon, your orgasm sneaking up to you, lightning rushing down your spine and magic sparking across your arms as your brain leaks out of your ears, shooting cum up into his greedy walls.

"Good- good lad." Price grinds his teeth, never stopping his bouncing, lewd sounds ringing through the showers from the way your cum squelches inside him. He rides you past the sting of overstimulation right back to hardness. His hand grabs yours, placing it over the scars on his abdomen where your magic had stitched him back together, greed and lust fueling his desires. "Protected me so good, yeah?" His hips never cease moving, that draconic endurance coming in handy to absolutely wrecking you. "Let me take care of you,"

And like a proper mate, you let him do as he pleases.

[lushrue]

I don't know if this is good but maybe, you can write something about maybe ice skater! reader being unfairly graded (i don't know how the point system works) or maybe ice hockey! 141 getting in a fight during a game and it gets kinda serious? Just a suggestion ofcourse, no pressure!❤ (Sorry if i'm akward, this is my first time sendinag and ask.)

thanks for the request, anon! your ask is great, no sweat! i’m gonna expand more on the second part of your request cause i’ll be honest, i’m not sure how scoring works for figure skating either lol!

but if reader gets a score that’s anything less than what they were expecting, no one’s gonna be happy. johnny’s raising a stink and probably cursing at the judges under his breath with words only he can understand. price is trying to rationalize it, cause he was sure you deserved higher than that. ghost seethes quietly, but he lets it go because these things happen sometimes. and kyle is just there for you, there to provide comfort or reassurance, whatever you need.

OKAY SO if the 141 got into a serious fight on the ice, for sure someone’s walking away bloody. whether it’s them or the other guy, it’s gotta be bad if all four of them are dog-piling on the opposing team. it probably starts with some cocksure rookie mouthing off, chirping about someone’s mother or sister or worse, you. they just can’t let that stand, someone insulting your honor like that! they’re gentlemen above all!

it’s probably ghost who throws the first punch. he’s the defenseman after all, his position is naturally a bit more physical than the rest of them. he doesn’t need words to fight back, he’s got fists that work just fine. that’s where johnny comes in, our favorite resident hothead. he’s swearing up a storm, hurling insults just to keep tensions high. he’s not done with a fight until someone’s on the ground. and he hasn’t gotten the chance to knock someone out yet this season.

price initially comes in as the peacemaker, trying to call off his attack dogs. “always on a hair trigger, those two,” he’d mumble under his breath. but the minute he hears what they’re saying or gets a punch thrown his way, he’s right there in the fray with everyone else. he tells himself it’s in defense of his boys, but he can’t deny the fire that burns hot in his belly when someone insults you. kyle is the last to join, but that doesn’t mean he’s not as passionate as the rest of them. he’s been chirping across the ice the whole time, choosing to fight at arm’s length rather than engage in contact. after all, someone has to remain penalty-free in this whole mess. he’s easily provoked to lashing out, though. call his pretty thing a rude name one more time, he dares you.

you’re torn as you watch in the stands, the refs skating in and trying to break everyone up. you can see that someone’s injured; there’s drops of blood on the ice, so play isn’t resuming for at least another 10 minutes. you know this needs to stop, that they need to cool off. but something stirs in you, watching your men fight fisticuffs on the ice. you think you catch johnny look back to make sure you’re watching before throwing a particularly bruising right hook. but of course, it ends eventually. you’re there in the locker room while the rink staff scrapes the ice to clean it, nursing johnny’s split lip while checking in with the rest. they’re all fine, thank goodness, just a couple bruised jaws and egos. "y'should see th'other guy," johnny mutters around the paper towel you're holding against his lip.

cheeky bastards, you think to yourself. always getting into trouble.

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: "i am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten...a young handmaid for my second son, aemond."

warnings: nothing.

notes: an anon requested their first meeting, so here it is.

his handmaid's tales I main masterlist

It began with the Queen.  

“How may I serve your Grace.”

“I am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten,” Queen Alicent had told the septa in private. It was gloomy outside, with dark clouds blanketing the sky. She had just finished lighting four candles. “A young handmaid for my second son, Aemond. He is the only of my children not to have one. I’d like for her to be sweet and devoted and quick on her feet, a girl who will swear her undying loyalty and service unto him and his needs.”

His twentieth nameday was fast approaching, set within the next fortnight. She felt this would be a fine gift for him.

The septa took a moment to think. “Does her breeding matter?” she asked. “I know of a girl- she is exactly what you desire, but she is a bastard, born to one of the serving wenches at Harrenhal.”

The queen’s nose wrinkled. “A riverlands bastard?”

“She is said to be Lord Lyonel’s granddaughter, my queen.”

“So a Strong bastard….” Alicent rubbed at her temple, “I suppose…if she is what I ask for, and that you can assure she’ll remain loyal to him.” She then sighed, shaking her head. “Though, do keep it away from my son, septa. He carries such little love for House Strong. I do not wish for him to turn his ire onto her if he ever found out.  

The septa frowned. “Do you genuinely believe the prince would dare harm an innocent girl, your Grace?”

Alicent tugged at her gown's flowing sleeve, sniffing. “That is why I ask for you to keep her heritage a secret.”   

Two weeks later, you stood in Prince Aemond’s bedchamber as his new handmaid. The septa was at your elbow, mumbling a flood of demands into your ear. “Stand straighter, child, for the sake of the gods. But keep your head bowed, gaze locked on your feet. You mustn’t ever behold the prince unless he allows it.” You ran a hand down your arm, feeling the skin prickled with goosebumps, before lacing your trembling fingers together.

To your right was the Queen, dressed in a pretty gown as green as summer. She said very little to you, if not nothing.

“Ah, Aemond! My dear boy, please join us,” she greeted quite happily when her son arrived at the doors of his room. You kept your eyes down, counting each loud footstep of his that loomed closer with every second.

“Who is this?”

Queen Alicent cleared her throat. “Your new handmaid, son.”

Prince Aemond remained silent. You could feel his gaze. One. Two. Three…four, five, six…. You swallowed, counting each heartbeat that quickened inside your chest as you willed yourself to stay still and brave. Do not tremble. It would be an embarrassment, no doubt. You felt your nails digging into your palms. Fear cuts much deeper than any sword.

“I was…unaware I needed a handmaid, dear mother,” he finally said.

“Aegon and Helaena have theirs, and Daeron’s been by his side in Oldtown since he was a young boy. It is unlike a prince not to have his own handmaid. She will do you well.”  

“Do me well?”

“Yes!”

The septa pinched the skin of your arm, causing you to flinch before lifting your face to meet his eye from across the room. The prince...he was handsome, terribly so, you thought. Tall and silver-haired, dashing and imposing, with a deep violet eye. “I was brought here to serve you,” you told him, “-to do anything and everything my prince commands.” Prince Aemond skimmed you up and down, an eyebrow rising. “Anything? Such as…?”

You glanced at the septa, unsure of what to say next. “Um, well, my prince, I shall fix your baths and sew any ripped shirts if you’d like? I might also fetch you your wine if desired-”

“She’ll do whatever you ask of her, my prince,” the septa interjected. Queen Alicent smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Does that not please you, son?” She then leaned to mutter something close to his ear, and he stiffened, aiming his cool stare at you, before relaxing.

“Alright. You are suffice,” he decided before turning to his mother, his face softening. “Thank you, mother.”

Queen Alicent leaned to kiss his cheek before pushing past him out into the hall. The septa soon followed her, leaving you and Prince Aemond alone in the room. Thump. Thump. Thump. The prince stole another look at you. “What might I call you?”

You gave him your name, dropping low into a pretty curtesy. Every time you bow, your neck is at the mercy of the royals. “A beautiful name,” he said. His voice sounded throaty. He was clothed in black leather, from his shoulders to his ankles, and the cloak he wore around his shoulders. At his waist hung a longsword. “Thank you, my prince. It was my mother’s choosing.”

The raven had arrived at Harrenhal at midday, a flurry of black wings that carried a letter demanding your sudden attendance at the Red Keep at the request of the queen herself. Your mother was reluctant to send you off at first but eventually did so with five sweet kisses and a bright yellow mullein flower that she slipped into the pocket of her old green cloak.

Prince Aemond hummed. “Well, if you’d like, I have two shirts that are in need of sewing. Ser Cole knicked them with his own sword during my training four mornings back.” He gestured to his closet, nicely carved from weirwood, pale as a bone. The look of it reminded you of your mother and the gods you left behind at home.

You nodded, bowing. “As my prince commands,” and you moved towards the closet to fetch his shirts, although you would likely need to venture out to find a needle and…

A hand touched your arm.

You spun to meet him. “Do you need something else, my prince?” Prince Aemond stood so close you could see the long pale scar peeking from behind his eyepatch, his dark eyelashes, and his jutting chin and high cheekbones. He was far more beautiful up close. You felt butterflies in your belly, stirring up a strange fluttering feeling; it crept up your spine to your throat.

“Do you fear me?”

You bit your lip. “No.”

He hummed again, eye flickering across your face. You do not believe me, don't you. You felt it glide over your browbone, to the slope of your nose, and pausing at your lips. “Fix my shirts, then. I have needles and thread in my closet as well. You do not leave the room unless I dismiss you.”

“She is yours. Your handmaid. Everything she does next is at your own will and mercy,” his mother whispered to him. “But do treat her well, Aemond. It is through kindheartedness that you receive devotion.”

tag list: @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd

[yanmuffins]

Glad you getting better muffin! I just wanted to ask if you could show the style of clothes that teen!vampire!reader wore and when she become adult after and before the biting thing please?

context &. context.

anon i love you. i hope your crops are watered and your harvest is bountiful. i'm really excited that i get to talk about this!! disclaimer: i know a lot of people aren't too keen on inserts being too characterized or specific, but i hope everyone will enjoy her fashion style! i promise it's relevant and i had a lot of fun with it.

so. where do i even begin with this post?

it all begins, of course, with vampire! reader's coming to the wayne manor as a child and the circumnsances behind it. that was a huge shift in her life. she was very little when it happened, long before damian could even dream of being concieved. media was going insane over this bastard wayne child that appeared out of nowhere, hoping to catch a glimpse of her to stamp on next day's newspaper and magazines. and as guarded as she was from the public eye, public appearances were inevitable, even if they were minimal at the time. so it was very important for her to dress and behave very proper and put-together.

but damage control wasn't the only, or even the biggest reason she was dressed like that. we have already established vampire! reader's fashion sense was greatly influenced by alfred, yes (and it still kind of is) — but also the new (fancy, upper-class) environment she found herself in. alfred mostly dressed her in whatever he thought was fitting for a wayne child, and although his choices might have been a bit outdated, no words of complaint were uttered. little vampire! reader's outfits were the least of bruce's problems at the time.

but all in all, it was alfred wanting to welcome her into the family and make her legitimate, providing the best of the best, donning her in the best fabrics from the best seamstresses and the best boutiques. he would show her old pictures of her grandmother, martha wayne, how she dressed, would show her the jewelry that were her heirlooms, and let her take a look at martha's old clothes that she could use once she was old enough, if she so desired.

now reader's fashion choices walk hand in hand with her upbringing, with the education she recieved. she takes being a "proper wayne lady" very seriously. it was a choice of mine to only have vampire! reader wear darker, more somber colors. it overall fits thr wayne/gotham aesthetic as well as emphasizes her upbriging, her blending in to the point of not being noticed. darker colors are also heavily associated with vampires, so there's that too!

onto the outfits. now, teen! vampire! reader is a bit more laid-back and experimental than her child self. but... not really. she begins to coordinate her own outfits without alfred's help, but his influence is far too ingrained in her brain for her to truly distance herself from it. she has certain luxury brands she will and will not buy from, seamstresses she contacts when she wants a piece custom-made.

the excessive formality of her childhood outfits dwindles, but doesn't completely disappear. it gives place to looser silhouettes, a pop of a brighter, non-muted color here and there, a shorter (gasp!) skirt if she's feeling daring, cashmere cardigans and (gasp!) a pair of sneakers here and there. she will go for more formal outfits here and there, but they have a certain joviality to them. the mary-jane shoes are still there, and so are the ballet flats, but now they're joined by loafers and oxfords. of course we have the fancier, tailored fits, with the tweed jackets and such, but they're mostly reserved for fitting occasions. heavy on the usage of long black/grey skirts, usage of pants or shorter bottoms pretty much non-existent.

this is somehwere around the time she convinces bruce to ditch the homeschooling and let her attend high school.

now, as vampire! reader reaches adulthood, the laid-backness of her outfits take a backseat. she leans onto more mature options, martha wayne and alfred's influence back with more force as she adds plenty of her grandmother's belongings into her own wardrobe. with some adjustments, that iconic black dress martha wayne wore to that charity ball fits bruce wayne's daughter like a glove at yet another charity event at the manor. and so many 50's-inspired outfits. her skirts are long, pleated or circle/swing for a more voluminous look with the help of some peticoats. full of neat gathers. usually plain dark or grey in color, but sometimes there's a plaid or a pied-de-poule to add a bit of fun to the outfit.

and that's when she starts wearing martha wayne's jewelry, too, so vampire! reader is getting fancy old money points not just for wearing expensive designer items like they cost $99 cents, but also because a lot of her wardrobe has extremely valuable, genuine vintage pieces that she inherited from a family member.

(can you tell i'm having fun leaning into the nepo-baby aspect of this? because i am. this reader is emotionally neglected but broke she is not.)

here you don't really have the loose sillhouette anymore. there's a lot of things reminiscent of her teenage phase, but now we have puffy skirts with a snatched waist — but nothing too form-fitting, either! no such thing as pencil skirts in her wardrobe, elegant as they may be. sometimes you might get an off-shoulder moment, but that's about it. we have a lot of fur (from martha's wardrobe), wool, velvet, etc.

(most of these are for fancier occasions!!)

but although she wears a lot of vintage or vintage-inspired outfits, there are fits that very much modern. get this: vampire! reader wears pants. jeans, mostly, and not very often, now that she's gone to college, but still. ironically, the sneakers are pretty much out, with designer slingback heels taking their place. designer heels, in general. lots of bags.

vampire! reader also... kinda flirts with the color red here and there, before being turned into a vampire. just a little pop of red here and there, maybe it's a more daring choice of dress she wore. just eyeing the color red sheepishly one time or another. hehe.

and, of course, her style of dressing is very much related to her upbringing. shaped by it, actually. she does enjoy the way she dresses, but i do think it portrays well the overly-posh, demure and modest image she maintains even uncounciously. always safe and never daring (as in she will stick with the outfits she deems proper/appropriate and will not deviate from them, at least not too much), always aiming to honor the family name.

but! onto the more modern outfits that i put together myself:

these are outfits vampire! reader wears on a daily basis! at this point she goes out a bit more often, to go to class, go shopping, a stop by a nice restaurant for lunch…

now here's some more references that i found on pinterest:

now you must be asking yourself: what about haute couture? does vampire! reader purchase those gorgeous, straight-out-of-a-dream dresses? and the answer is no. not often, at least. again, she keeps a very muted, elegant, somber style with no room for sequins, rhinestones, intricate or unconventional designs, anything too flashy in general. in those occasions she’s invited to fashion weeks she might stare at some of them longingly, desperate to find a plain enough dress she can wear to one of those few public appearances in she’s allowed to make. this is all before vampire! reader... well, being turned into a vampire. but i will say that the changes start some time before her transformation. her gradual changes and ultimate style as a vampire are still a work in progress, i'll admit. but.

dresses get more fitted, at first. the necklines get lower. skirts get a tiny bit shorter. the outfits more playful, more risqué, more assymetrical. there are corsets, deep red and green velvet, delicate laces, sleeveless tops with no white blouse underneath. it's cunty, that's all. and honestly? this is once again vampire! reader being influenced, this time by her sire, as she goes out with them into the night. the confidence isn't really there, lots of outfits she hasn't really picked and isn’t comfortable wearing.

(jason, duke and damian are first to notice it, and it makes a few alarms go off in their heads.)

i have some references and inspo, lots of them from 90's and early 2000's fits. she’ll lean more into haute couture then.

but i’m still deciding on vampire! reader’s style once she gets turned. this is the overall gist of it, though. a femme fatale kinda vibe — sexier, cuntier and absolutely powerful once that confidence kicks in and she starts wearing what she wants.

so that’s it for now I guess?? thank you for the ask anon, this was super fun!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡と

[octopiys]

I fear I've become obsessed with the Honey series

Lost and Found

Prev | Next

iv. dinner de novo

(anon I love you thank you so much <3)

Cw: blood mention

You flit throughout the kitchen as Simon watches from the corner, the noisy buzz of the heat lamp filling the silence.

Simon Riley was not scared of many things. He can't risk fear in high stakes settings that he tends to find himself in. He has to stay strong, be a leader, and think fast.

Simon Riley is.... apprehensive. He wanted to offer help, but he knew that if you set your mind to something, you'd get it done. Anyone in your way would probably be smacked with the nearest spatula. He valued his life, thank you very much.

You had come back in with a handful of herbs that he didn't recognize, and with wet socks. Your heart had been racing, and he was damn well sure it wasn't because of the duck. He knew he'd be foolish to think it was because of dinner tonight.

Now was not the time to ask.

He knew, at some point, hed have to find out. Not that he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to press you into admitting something when you're not ready. When he had found you, weeks ago, scratched up, bruised, and bloody, a fogged up look in your eyes, he knew you had been running. He ran once, too. He knew some things were better left buried.

He knew that once you told him, he probably wouldn't stop until he found the bastard that had dared lay hands on you. His little stray that done more than enough for him, innocent, but not helpless.

Dog lumbers over and sits on his lap, yawning. He spares a glance at his bookshelf. Maybe when he got back from his mission, hed take you to a bookstore. He thinks you'd like that. A good girl like you, cooking him and his best mate dinner, you deserve a reward.

You yelp in the kitchen, metal clattering to the floor, and he's up in an instant, at your side even quicker. Blood pearls on your thumb, the thin slice going deeper than appeared. A tomato lay cut in half, the kitchen knife on the floor, the likely culprit.

Tears pool like diamonds in your eyes and he wants to kiss the salt away to make it better. He huffs lowly under his breath, heart spiking in his chest as he pulls a paper towel off the counter and gently, yet firmly, wraps your thumb.

Before you know it, hes chopping the rest of the tomato so you don't have to. His movements are jerky, unskilled, but the attempt warms your heart.

This is how Simon helps, you think.

The rest of dinner preparation goes by smoothly. By smoothly, you mean, you pick up the next ingredient and utensil, and Simon wordlessly puts out his hands, looking at you with his slightly droopy brown eyes, unrelenting. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest, and you hand them to him. The corners of his mouth pulls up, just the slightest bit, and he turns to the stove, or sink, or whatever you need him to do.

He is under your thumb, he is your whim, he is under your mercy, utterly dedicated and devoted to you. Don't wanna stress his best girl out, he thinks, glancing at you nursing your cut thumb with watery eyes and a nervous voice as you tell him what to do.

When the tomatoes are done, you tell him, they go in the ceramic tray with the onions, oil, paprika, and italian seasoning. It had taken a little while to find the paprika. You're not sure what that says about the store, but honestly, you're too far in now to worry about it. You cut the top off a head of garlic and stick it in there while Simon mixes it up. When he realized you were working while so gravely injured, (really, he's being a little dramatic. You've survived much worse.) he shot you a look, until you glared back at him, and he backed down a little bit. He moves to get the pasta ready to boil, and you cover the tray with aluminum foil.

You're humming to yourself softly as you put the tray in the oven, and bake at 200c (or 400f) for an hour. The salted water rolls to a boil, and you ask Simon to put the pasta in-

"Slowly, Si- I said slowly! Slowly, it's gonna-!" You laugh, tugging him backwards as the water boils over the side as he tries to pour all the pasta in at once. When the water settles, still giggling, you ease him back towards the stove, and show him how to properly add in the pasta. Really, how this man got by before you, you don't know.

When your hour is up, Simon leaps at the chance to take the tray from the oven.

"You'll burn yourself, Honey. Can't have that." He murmurs, flinching slightly at the warm air.

When the pasta is al dente, cooked to your liking, you strain it. Simon adds a few greens, half a lemon's worth of juice, and squishes the roasted garlic into the tray. You gag at the thought of adding coconut milk, so you leave it out. You stir in the pasta- slowly- and the doorbell rings.

Your eyes widen, flashing to the door, before looking at Simon.

"'S just Johnny, honey. Johnny and Peach. 'Member?" He says, voice gentle, hand held out. "I'll plate these up. Can ya get the door for me?"

Your feet are glued to the ground, your mouth is dry. Your eyes flick to the door. He's sure, he's sure it's them? You haven't had any... welcome visitors here.

"Here, I'll go with you. Bastard can plate himself." He snips, and your shoulders ease, taking his hand.

Scraggle is clawing at the door, while Dog sleeps against the couch. Some guard dog. Simon nudges Scraggle out of the way with his foot, before unlocking the door.

Your heart is in your throat.

"I told you he'd open the door!" Peach's loud voice was evident behind the door, followed by a dull *thwack!*

"Oi! I wasnae sayin'- Hi, LT- wasnae sayin' he forgot!" Says Johnny, sounding highly accosted, and slightly dramatic. You see him with a pout on his lips, and Peach's eyes light up when she sees you.

"Aren't ya so pretty? We brought a housewarmin' gift, Hon, hope ya don't mind!" She laughs, and your face flushes warm as she puts flowers in your hands. You glance and see Simon being handed a small bottle of amber liquid, before the two are ushered into the house.

"Ooh, shite, smells lovely, Honey." Johnny says, and you open your mouth to mutter a quiet thanks, before Peach interjects with a, "Language!"

"It- It's really okay," you hum softly. "It's in the kitchen, er- the plates aren't out-"

In the blink of an eye, Simon is opening the cabinet, and tossing a plate at Johnny, and handing one to Peach. Peach hands her plate to you, saying, "Cook gets the first dig!"

You flush, thanking her quietly, as Simon grabs a plate for himself, "accidentally" whacking Johnny over the head with it when he tries to reach for the ladle.

Simon looks.... happy.

You hum, an almost chittering sound, and scoop some pasta onto your plate as your stomach growls. Everyone else plates themselves, and the group migrates to the table.

You look... happy, Simon notes. As soon as the fork touches your tongue, you're shovelling food into your mouth, delighted at the way it turned out, but also ravenous, like you're worried you're never gonna have anything as good ever again.

Under the table from where he sits, Simon rests his hand on your thigh. His pulse beats firm beneath his wrist, and you falter. You take a breath. You don't have to eat like it's your last meal. It's okay. You're safe here, no one is going to judge you.

You smile at him, slightly relieved.

The push and pull of the waves, the horror and euphoria of being known.

This is how Simon loves, you think.

"Nae fookin' wonder yer so eager tae git home, LT-" Johnny practically moans through a mouthful of food. "I would take if Peach here wouldnae burn everythin'-"

"I do not! But oh my gods, Honey, this food is so fuckin' good, you gotta give me your recipe- pardon my language, but..."

She continues talking, playfully arguing with Johnny over a glass of bourbon, and Simon cracks a few laughs. You smile into your water, choking at some joke, and Scraggle screams under your chair for some pasta scraps mother, please, kindly donate a few to a starving Creature, never before eaten, Mother, you Do Not Understand-

You drop a noodle or two, and Scraggle yowls happily.

It feels... peaceful, in your house tonight.

Relaxation eases your shoulders, even after Peach and Johnny leave.

On the couch, you sip a few drops of Simon's bourbon. You don't usually drink, it makes you feel...... nervous, but a sip or two to relax wouldn't kill you. It was rich, smoky almost, and warm down your throat and into your chest.

Winter is coming soon, and the fire glows warmly in embers. Some movie is playing on the telly, and you're curled up against Simon's side. It took him a few moments to realize that you wanted comfort, and even then he asked to make sure. Now, his hand slowly rakes through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. Tingles rise on your arms every once in a while.

At peace.

Your eyes blink slowly, as you snuggle into him.

He doesn't take his eyes off you.

"Simon?" You ask, as if making sure he was still here.

"Yes?"

"Thank you." You say softly, a murmur. His heart quickens just the slightest.

His face is warm. "For what?"

You hum in response, hand drifting down to lightly pet Scraggle, who had fallen asleep right next to the couch, a note carried on by the warmth of the fire.

Your breathing evens out, deepens, and he knows he won't get an answer tonight. That's okay, he thinks.

His phone buzzes.

He yawns, thinking nothing of it, and looks down.

A text from John.

He opens it, rubbing his eyes slightly, before going back to petting your head, before cold flushes down his neck as he reads.

JP: Someone's looking for your girl.

masterlist

A/N: Hello! Thank you guys so much for the love on the past few chapters. I'm so sorry it's been a while since I updated, but I had a lot going on. Luckily, I'm okay and much better now, but I just wanted to let you all know that you're so so so loved! Also, the recipe in here is an actual, functional recipe. If anyone makes it, please let me know! I personally wouldn't add the coconut milk, but to each their own lol. see you next chapter!

[noforkingclue]

Hey could I please request a Dhawan!Master x reader with the dialogue "Oh don't worry. A little bit of Hypnosis never hurt anybody."

Have a great day

Of course anon! I did go slightly darker with this fic.

Hope you like it :)

Title: Giving In

Warnings: kidnapping, wanted hypnotism

You swallowed thickly as you looked up at the Master. He gave you a manic grin as he knelt down to your level. You were determined not to show any fear in front of him. That was what he wanted after all- for you to cower by his feet.

But you knew you shouldn’t look into his eyes.

Those beautiful, beautiful eyes that were wasted on a man like him.

Someone as evil as him shouldn’t have eyes like that.

“Love.”

Or a voice like that. That soothing voice that he didn’t deserve.

“Look at me, love.”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s not polite to not look at someone when they’re speaking to you.”

“Since when have you been polite to me?”

“Haven’t I? You’re still alive aren’t you?”

You glared at his feet, not daring to look up any further. You heard him sigh and walk around his TARDIS. You could practically see the pose and expression on his face, despite not looking up.  Hands behind his back, mock disappointment

“Do you know why I took you?” he asked

“To piss off the Doctor.”

“Ah well, an added bonus.”

“So that wasn’t the reason? Seemed to be in the past.”

Ok, so this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d kidnapped you. Out of the Doctor’s companions, you were the person who’d spent the most time with the bastard. So he had an element of charm about him, well, at least to you. He definitely threatened you the least.

And sometimes, on the very odd occasion, you could’ve sworn he was actually flirting with you. If you could call threatening to kill you while telling you how beautiful you looked covered in your own blood, flirting.

Timelords.

“Why do you want me to look at you?” you asked

“I think you know that. For a human, you’re not a stupid as you look.”

“Thanks.”

You could see him walk over and he grabbed your chin. Quickly, you shut your eyes as he tilted your chin back. He leant down, brushing his cheek against yours. His beard scratched your cheek and you felt his breath fan across your cheek.

“It’ll be painless,” he said softly, his voice like honey, “you’ll feel so good.”

“No it won’t.”

"Oh don't worry. A little bit of Hypnosis never hurt anybody."

“Maybe not physically but mentally it will.”

“Only if you resist and you’re not going to resist me are you?”

“Yes I am.”

“Why? Oh wait, let me guess, because I’m evil. The Doctor has told you all about me so of course you now know every little detail about me.”

“She’s told us enough.”

The Master cupped your face, brushing his thumbs against your cheek bones. You kept your eyes firmly shut and he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. You shuddered as you felt his breath fan across your face and you could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said,

“I could make you open those beautiful eyes of yours. I could make you do so many things and then,”

He broke off with a dark chuckle,

“And then I’ll make you forget so we can do this over and over again. So unless you want things to hurt, to really hurt, I’d suggest you open your eyes.”

And so you did.

[maglors-grief]

https://www.tumblr.com/teleit/764731859378847744?source=share

Team radioactive wastes' coping skills will never not amaze me lmaoo

Anon this is why I never venture into the hotd tags because I know if I come across posts like this then I won't be able to stop myself from responding 😭 I truly meant for this post to be short but it got pretty long so apologies for that lol. Also you sent me this ask like a month ago so sorry for taking forever to respond.

First of all, them saying "team black stans is being almost hysterical, trying to convince us that Saint Rhaenyra would never dare to kill Alicent's children" is immediately disproven by this quote in the book:

"Her first act as queen was to declare Ser Otto Hightower and Queen Alicent traitors and rebels. "As for my half-brothers and my sweet sister, Helaena," she announced, "they have been led astray by the counsel of evil men. Let them come to Dragonstone, bend the knee, and ask for my forgiveness, and I shall gladly spare their lives and take them back into my heart, for they are my own blood, and no man or woman is as accursed as the kinslayer"."

I have no idea where team green stans get the idea Rhaenyra is the bloodthirsty monster of the story because the paragraph right after that one is Aegon II saying:

"I want them attainted, I want them arrested, and I want them dead".

He said this at the start of the war, before there were deaths on either side, and yet he was still ready to kill his sister and her family. Aegon II then went on to throw a party for Aemond when Lucerys was murdered. But some people still think Rhaenyra was the monster.

Rhaenyra was willing to accept her siblings if they joined her side because she knew they had been manipulated by Alicent and Otto all their lives. While Aegon immediately wanted every single one of them dead and had to be talked down from it.

Of course I know there will be some team green stans that will say that Rhaenyra was bluffing and she would have murdered them anyways but she gave mercy to Alicent of all people simply because she was her father's wife even after declaring her a traitor and a rebel. And this was after Rhaenyra already lost multiple children because of the war and was going slightly mad from grief. Rhaenyra still didn't have Alicent killed even after Alicent mocked and belittled the deaths of Rhaenyra's sons and acted like the deaths of Rhaenyra's son mattered little compared to Alicent's own children by saying "bastard blood shed at war".

Let not have it forgotten that Rhaenyra herself did not commit any kinslaying during the war but Aegon II and Aemond did. Rhaenyra tried having mercy on her enemies who never once tried showing her and her family any.

It is insane to me how much team green stans will focus on Rhaenyra possibly killing her siblings but yet they fail to blame Alicent and Otto for making Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron targets in the first place with all their scheming. Alicent and Otto apparently did what they did because they feared Alicent's children would be killed by Rhaenyra, so they started a deadly war that ended up killing them all anyways, it makes no sense.

I dislike that Rhaenyra gets all the blame in the tense relationship between her and her siblings. Do team green stans think Rhaenyra just woke up one day and decided to not get along with her siblings? Do they really not think that Alicent was not heavily involved in them not liking each other?

Her siblings were made to be a threat against her since day 1. Rhaenyra was a 9 year old child who just lost her mother but yet she still accepted Alicent as her stepmother when she easily could have thrown a fit over her father marrying again.

"Princess Rhaenyra poured for her stepmother at the feast, and Queen Alicent kissed her and named her "daughter". The princess was amongst the women who disrobed the king and delivered him to the bedchamber of his bride"

That was not someone who wanted to dislike her stepmother and future siblings. Alicent turned against 10 year old Rhaenyra as soon as she gave Viserys sons. Alicent was the one turned the court into two fractions.

Op said that us team black stans think: "that Otto and Alicent are the second and third coming of Satan, and they are must be blame for everything"

By the time the book mentions that 3 of her siblings have been born in the book we have seen nothing negative from Rhaenyra about Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond. But we do see multiple attempts from Alicent and Otto to discredit her and push for Aegon to be made successor:

"The amity between Her Grace and her stepdaughter had proved short-lived, for both Rhaenyra and Alicent aspired to be the first lady of the realm... and though the queen had given the king not one but two male heirs, Viserys had done nothing to change the order of succession"

"Those who asked, "What of the ruling of the Great Council of 101?" found their words falling on deaf ears. The matter had been decided, so far as King Viserys was concerned"

"Still, questions persisted, not the least from Queen Alicent herself. Loudest amongst her supporters was her father, Ser Otto Hightower"

"Even after Ser Otto had returned to Oldtown, a "queen's party" still existed at court; a group of powerful lords friendly to Queen Alicent and supportive of the rights of her sons"

They were the ones that made her siblings be her enemies by trying to rob her of her claim to the throne to give to her brother. What was young Rhaenyra supposed to do in this situation?

Also during this time is when we see Alicent say: "'Ser Criston protects the princess from her enemies, but who protects the princess from Ser Criston?' Queen Alicent asked one day at court" and I am convinced she did not say this in court, in front of other people, out of genuine concern for 13 year old Rhaenyra but as a way to slyly question the heir's virtue for the first time, something they loved using against her later on.

So yes I do completely believe that Alicent and Otto are to blame for everything. Between the years of 107 AC - 110 AC we don't see much of Rhaenyra at all but we do see Alicent and Otto actively working against her and splitting the court apart. And this is just the very beginning of their actions against Rhaenyra. In an effort to keep this post from getting insanely long, I won't even be mentioning everything they did over the next couple decades, such as being the ones who committed treason and started the Dance while Rhaenyra was minding her own business on Dragonstone.

And if we're talking about House of the Dragon, the idea that Rhaenyra would kill her siblings came from Otto Hightower. Otto was removed from his position as Hand of the King because of Rhaenyra and Alicent was trying to defend her and so I believe that Otto made up that Rhaenyra would harm Alicent's children in the future because he wanted to keep control over Alicent. He would not be there anymore to ensure they remained divided so he came up with some egregious lie to make sure Alicent would remain loyal to him and the future plan of usurping Rhaenyra.

We see no such indication from Rhaenyra herself in season 1 that she means her siblings any harm. Even in season 2 she's still incredibly reluctant to hurt that side of her family (except for Aemond because he killed her son) and was upset over the death of Jaehaerys because she didn't want to hurt Helaena.

Teenage Aegon didn't seem to feel threatened by Rhaenyra until Alicent made him feel threatened by her.

As you all know, Rhaenyra was just so scary and threatening during her time living in the Red Keep that she was somehow the one getting mistreated and bullied by Alicent to the extent she had to move to Dragonstone to get away from it 🤔 but yeah Rhaenyra was the threat and meant her siblings harm...

Otto was scheming to get a half Hightower/Targaryen on the throne before Rhaenyra was even made heir in the show. Rhaenyra got in the way by being made heir and so Otto began plotting to have the throne usurped. Alicent participated in this and helped. She raised her children to hate Rhaenyra. Alicent knew what her father had planned and did nothing to stop it. So yeah once again Alicent and Otto are the bad guys and I truly do not understand the mental gymnastics that team green stans do to defend them.

~

I was just going to ignore the rest of their post and only focus on the beginning of it because I didn't want this post getting any longer but I couldn't resist including some honorable mentions. From here on out, I'm not using the book as a reference because the original post seems to be mostly based on House of the Dragon and the person even discredits using the book as proof lol.

Op says: "As proof, you are given quotes from a book that these fans have hardly read in its entirety, their own opinion, which, of course, is an indisputable fact". - I have actually read the book in its entirety and I don't even know what to say here because yeah the proof is actually in the book and it's in the show that Alicent, Otto, and the rest of the Greens are to blame for everything. My opinion is always based on what I have seen in the book and the show. Meanwhile I believe that most team green stans have hardly even read one single page of Fire & Blood and their "proof" is usually just based on whatever their feelings are.

"Stories like Dance of the Dragons require you to dive into the personalities of both teams so you can understand the tragedy of the situation" - Op says this but then does nothing but bash all of the Blacks. They seemingly refuse to see their point of view, all while focusing on the Greens and their feelings. Doesn't seem like they have dived into the personalities of both teams because from everything they say the Blacks are all monsters while anything the Greens did can be excused. It's the hypocrisy for me because they're mirroring the exact behavior they just criticized others for.

"Your father doesn't care about you, and you don't understand why. Did you do something wrong? Why does your father love your half-sister and her children, but not you and your siblings? Why doesn't he protect you from your nephews' bullying?" - Alicent didn't protect her son from the bullying either and she was actually aware of it whereas Viserys didn't seem to be. She pretty much told Aemond that he needed to not make a fuss about it because their side of the family needed to appear united. Also why only mention Jace and Luke bullying Aemond and not the fact that Aegon was the ringleader of it all?? Jace and Luke were much younger than both Aegon and Aemond and they only wanted to impress Aegon so I think it's ridiculous that they tend to get all the blame for it while team green stans usually make up excuses for Aegon's treatment of Aemond.

"Your half-sister Rhaenyra HATES you. She shows no shame in showing her disdain, barely tolerates your existence, and never punishes her children for bullying you. She won't talk to you, won't play with you, and even seems to hate your name." In the show we don't see Rhaenyra hating her siblings. Where is her disdain? Where does she barely tolerate their existence? Where are we shown that Rhaenyra is aware her sons are bullying Aemond? Due to the large time jumps, we can't say for certainty if Rhaenyra ever did interact with her siblings or not in season 1. We only get to see one episode of Rhaenyra with her sons living in the Red Keep and it doesn't provide enough information for any of us to be making statements about her relationships with others. Also Rhaenyra is a grown woman with her own children and responsibilities to worry about, I can't blame her for not playing with her siblings.

"Your father yells at Aegon because Aemond said that Aegon is the one who lied about your nephews being legitimate Velaryons." - Yeah Viserys yelled at him but Alicent straight up slapped him right before that for not keeping an eye on Aemond even though that should be her responsibility as their mother. Aegon was forced to take the blame and get yelled at because he didn't want to blame Alicent. Maybe Alicent shouldn't have been telling dangerous gossip to her kids if she didn't want them possibly getting in trouble for it.

"Laenor dies, and you hear that Rhaenyra has married Daemon, ignoring the mourning period. You remember this man - he laughed at Laena's funeral" - Op goes on to be sympathetic towards Vaemond, neglecting to mention how Vaemond was using his eulogy for his niece's funeral to take shots at Rhaenyra and her sons. Daemon, who probably laughed in disbelief over Vaemond's audacity, is the bad guy but not Vaemond?