#I have a lot of thoughts about the Pale King and his actual thoughts on Vessels

[cryptidblue1]

I'm having Thoughts on how I want RoF to go in regards to Pale King's reaction to Lavender and the Vessel Brigade as a whole. Because as much as I really like the whole awkward family reconciliation trope. I think that with how I made the vessels basically escape the abyss right before Pale King got his perfect vessel that he may not be as easily capable of accepting Lavender or any of the Vessels.

Doubly so because the vessel brigade are basically curbstomps all over Pale King's entire belief and conjectures regarding how the Void actually works in regards to taking over a god infused body. Because before the entire vessel project the only thing that could really be used to test what the Void actually does to living beings are kingsmoulds and whatever the Collector is. Unless you subscribe to him actually using living subjects to test things. So, Pale King literally based everything, pinned his hopes, and shackled himself to the guilt of killing every offspring he would ever have with Pale Lady.

So having what is basically a herd of reanimated corpses of children he sacrificed roaming about, and one of them somehow having an ability to remove the infection from the waking world would not be something easily accepted. Because what does that mean in regards to his theories, the time, the sacrifices. All of it a waste because the vessel plan clearly was not the Only Answer as he believed, and this also makes it now a question on would this particular child have the abilities needed to fight against the Radiance if they had been allowed to live and grow as his child and not a vessel of the void?

Like that very thought likely would be so intrusive and confidence shaking if not confidence breaking, because what else has he gotten wrong in his quest to stop the infection? Was there always another way that he couldn't see?

Which then gets into if you're in Camp: Pale King is inherently arrogant by being a Higher Being, thus would denounce any flaw of himself until forced to accept it or hide from it. Or in the Camp: Pale King knows he can make mistakes, but he does everything to not make such because he knows full well how devastating such a mistake would be for his kingdom and the lives in it.

So nothing regarding the first or even subsequent meetings between Pale King and the vessels is going to be anything but horrible feelings and misunderstandings because Lavender is basically just stumbling along trying to fix something they believe they broke when they got forced down the path of not being a pure vessel, and none of the other vessels actually know anything about what is going on considering they kinda just exist and are still figuring out how life works to begin with. Which can get even more complicated because I don't think either side wants it known by everyone and everything about the vessels being void beings, and thus having to actually explain how they came to be.

Though that makes me wonder if at some point the Pale King has to basically bullshit that void beings can happen under very specific circumstances and just let the Knights come to some off the wall conclusion based on what little they know and what they believe from observing Lavender's behavior.

Like this is a Tangle of Emotions I need to figure out, because I can't keep stalling on this meeting, but I have way too many thoughts on how badly this could go, especially as I'm pretty sure from the vague outline forming of this plot that Bad Times happen if Pale King can't accept in the most distant of ways the vessels as living beings.

[ceoofglytchell]

A Fall From Grace

Summary: When Gwayne Hightower traveled to King’s Landing to support his nephew the King in the war, he brought along his dear daughter, you. Soft-spoken, pious and well read; Dowager Queen Alicent took you under her wing immediately, but another pair of eyes never left your form either. From the moment of your arrival you had taken Aegon’s breath away and he was intent on getting closer to you even if it meant setting foot in the Sept again to join you for prayer.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Hightower!Cousin!Reader

Word count: 3982 words

Warnings: incest, infidelity (because Aegon is still married), obvious longing from both sides, he’s a little obsessed, fluff, making out, allusions to smut, Reader is described of having Hightower like features, religious guilt (kinda?), lots of praying, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I thank you all for reading my stuff 💛 As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated.

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It had only been two days since you had been wandering through the endless, cold corridors of the Red Keep, and for exactly two days you had been all that King Aegon, second of his name, could think about. Every thought he had was about you, even though he was supposed to be in a meeting of the Small Council planning the attack on Rooks Rest that he had only recently learned about was happening.

Where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with? How were you feeling? Did you miss home? Were you betrothed?

Aegon turned the small white and green colored ball over and over in its holder on the council table, obviously not listening. Lord Tyland was talking about something, but his words didn't really reach his ears because he was once again thinking only of you. At this hour you would have to accompany his mother to the sept to pray to the gods or you went alone if you so wished. He himself was not a religious person, but he knew the customs and traditions of the Seven, as his mother had tried to teach him when he was a little boy, but she had failed miserably at that. As far as he knew, only his youngest brother Daeron actually believed in all that nonsense, but he had also grown up in Oldtown, where their mother and uncle came from so it was no surprise.

You too.

As far as he knew, your father- his uncle Gwayne Hightower- had fed you the religious customs and traditions of the Seven from a very early age, and you also had several Septas who raised you to be a perfect young lady, but you never took the vows that would make you one yourself. You were Gwayne's only daughter, so it was your duty to marry and give your future husband heirs to continue the bloodline, and, by the gods, Aegon swore that he would be the one.

You were not just beautiful, you were a real feast for the eyes. Your wavy auburn hair, your pale skin with your constantly rosy cheeks and your smile that always made his knees go weak were the most breathtaking things he had ever seen, which was why he could forgive you for your religious nonsense and still wanted to make you his in every imaginable way.

Your body was always covered in pretty gowns in the color of House Hightower, green, but all accents and jewelry you wore were gold, which made you a walking, living banner for his cause and no one would question where your loyalty laid. He was the king and he could have anything he wanted, and now he wanted you, his beloved cousin, whom he had only met two days ago.

It wasn't his fault that his heart had decided that way, it had just happened. If only he was still unmarried…

You were, but he wouldn't allow you to be sold to anyone like a broodmare or as a price to win another house over to his side. Even if your hand was given to Daeron, he would not approve, because the very thought of seeing you happy with someone else made him angry, but it also made him painfully aware of how much you had already done to him. Only two days... how would he feel once you had been here for a week, a month? He would probably go mad sooner or later if he couldn't have you.

He had to act, and quickly, because otherwise you would be gone and choose someone else instead of him.

Suddenly he slammed the table with the palm of his hand, which froze the other council members for a moment and the room was filled with silence for the first time in two hours.

"You bore me. You all bore me.”

Without waiting another second, Aegon stood up abruptly from the table, whereupon the other council members also stood up, since he was their king and this was yet another formal custom that he could not care less about, and he disappeared as quickly as he could from the small council. The meeting was over. For him, anyway, because as soon as the doors were closed, Larys Strong spoke again and the conversation continued without their most important member. A marriage alliance was also one of the topics that were discussed in his absence.

It was not long later that Aegon stood in front of the large entrance doors to the Sept, which he had all too fond memories of. Only two weeks ago, he had hidden under one of the altars, completely drunk, because he had not wanted the crown. He still did not want it, but it also gave him a new sense of purpose in life, and something worth fighting and living for. A lot had changed in the last two weeks, his view of his birthright, as well as a sudden deeper interest in you.

It was extremely embarrassing to admit that he hadn't even known you existed until Alicent had told him in passing. It was almost a shame how you always he had been hidden from him, albeit unintentionally.

Carefully, pulling the hood further over his face so that no one would see his silver hair and guess who he was, he entered the interior of the Sept and was immediately greeted with the smell of fire, incense and melting candle wax. As always, it was quite dark inside, the only light was the lit candles and the slight sunlight that fell through the windows above, so that it was not completely pitch black and one could still see the floor beneath one’s feet.

He let his gaze wander through the wide hall and over the individual statues of the Seven, to whom most people prayed, and there, in the distance, kneeling in front of the statue of the Mother, you were. The light from the many small candles and the light that fell through the window fell directly on your body which was wrapped in a dark green gown and in that moment Aegon decided that you must be an angel. There was no other explanation for this beautiful, divine being that he saw praying quietly a few meters in front of him.

The young king felt a lump forming in his throat and he slowly began to make his way towards you, even though he already knew that it would be difficult to keep his composure once you looked at him with your doe-like eyes.

He was not a religious man. He was not even a good man, which was why he felt guilty for corrupting someone as pure as you and dragging you into his own sinfulness, but it was necessary because part of him wanted to protect you, wanted to hold you in his arms, stroke your hair and share slow, deep kisses with you while shielding you from the horrors of war.

The gods would not forgive him, but perhaps you would.

While you were lost in prayer, you heard footsteps approaching from the side, but you did not let that distract you at first. After all, it could have been anyone; Septas, the Dowager Queen, or anyone from the common people, as was customary in Oldtown, where everyone prayed side by side, since every human - common or noble - was equal before the gods.

A small clearing of the throat from the side, however, made you open your eyes again and turn your head to the side, as you were curious as to who had come to you, but your eyes immediately widened in surprise when you looked into the face of your cousin Aegon, who had recently been crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Your Grace? To what do I own the honors?" you asked him in a gentle voice and you immediately started to stand up to curtsy to him, but he indicated to you with a quick gesture that this would not be necessary.

"Please, you may kneel. Forgive me, I did not know you were in the middle of a prayer."

A small smile played on your soft lips and you shook your head slightly, as if to tell him that he need not worry about this, which made his heart beat faster and he had to fight the urge to reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear that had come loose.

"No, please, it is fine, cousin. I was almost finished," you answered him in return and you folded your delicate hands again as if you wanted to finish your prayer, whatever it was - at least in your thoughts and not out loud.

Aegon hesitated, but when he let his amethyst colored eyes wander over your form for a brief moment and he noticed the way your dress hugged your figure, he knew there was no turning back for him. "May I join you?"

Your eyes lit up and your soft, kind smile widened into a truly happy one, whereupon you moved slightly to the side so that he could kneel on the cushions next to you. You had never thought of your cousin as pious, but there were always signs and wonders.

"How... how does this work now?" Aegon asked you carefully and in an uncertain voice, while he folded his hands together just like you, but unlike you, his gaze was not on the imposing statue of the deity on the altar in front of them, but he was looking at you alone. He just couldn't take his eyes off you and your otherworldly beauty.

A small giggle escaped you and thanks to the flickering golden candlelight he could see your cheeks turning a light shade of red, which made a feeling of pride well up in him, now that he knew he had an effect on you.

"You close your eyes and pray. In other words, you can tell the Seven anything and they will listen to you. You can also ask them anything and they will have an answer for you and show you the way.”

He was a sinner and he knew it. He could do nothing but watch your pink lips move as you calmly explained to him how prayer worked. How would it feel to kiss you? Would you kiss him back if he did it now, here in the middle of this sacred place? Did you want him as much as he wanted you?

“What do you tell them?” he asked you with a hint of curiosity in his deep voice as he continued to examine you as if you were the altar he was supposed to worship.

“I ask them for peace and that my father takes a safe journey and returns unharmed,” you told him honestly, a slight glimmer of sadness spreading in your eyes that made him want to reach for your hand to comfort you. Of course, he had never seen a war himself, but he also knew that not everyone returned from battles - especially not when fire-breathing dragons were involved.

"Well, then do not let me stop you."

You both clasped your hands together and closed your eyes to address your words to the gods and perhaps even make a request. But while you continued exactly where you had left off when you were startled by his footsteps, Aegon didn't know where to start. The last time he had prayed was many years ago and his mother had put the words in his mouth back then.

Your light breathing and the crackling candles finally inspired him and the young king actually managed to address the Seven, even though he didn't even really believe they existed, but the words just bubbled out of him - even if it was all just in his head and his thoughts would probably not be heard by anyone. He wished he could tell you all of this directly...

Your eyes fluttered open once more about a minute later and you were surprised to see, as you looked to the man to your right, that he still seemed to be deep in prayer. Whether he was actually speaking to the gods or just thinking about his day, you took the time to look at him more closely. Because he was sitting so close to you, you could see all the little details on his admittedly very handsome face. From the way his long eyelashes gently touched his cheek, to the small moles on his pale skin, the slight curve of his nose, his full lips and the way his shoulder-length, slightly wavy hair framed his face.

He was beautiful...

You condemned yourself for thinking that, especially when kneeling in front of the statue of the Mother, but you couldn't help yourself. Aegon Targaryen was a beautiful man and no one should deny that fact. After all, the Targaryens were closer to gods than to men, although you were never sure if you should believe that old saying, but as you looked at him now, you thought there must be something to it, because why else would your heart suddenly beat faster whenever he was near and you could feel his intent gaze on you, or that a warmth spread through your body as if the Seven had finally heard your prayers. Maybe he was the one you were waiting for?

After what felt like an eternity, in which Aegon poured out his heart in his mind, although no one was listening, he blinked his amethyst eyes again and immediately froze when he looked at you and you were already looking right back at him with an expression on your face that he had never seen from you before.

You quickly turned your head away and looked down at your lap, while a deep flush took root on your soft cheeks. He had actually managed to make you blush - in the middle of the Sept! If he could do that, he wondered how much else you would let him do that would most likely tarnish your purity and innocence. He was very excited to find out.

"What did you pray for?" you asked him in a quiet tone and with the kind voice that he knew from you, but you still didn't look up at him again. You probably wanted to hide your blush from him, but it was very obvious.

Aegon could go two ways here. First, he could tell you that he too had prayed for a quick end to the war and that he would not lose any more loved ones, or second, he could tell you about his thoughts about you, which he couldn't bring himself to do. No, a lie had to serve as an answer again for today.

"For strength, guidance, and a safe return," he replied at last, which was partly true. Everyone saw him as weak, his own family, the realm, and most of all his traitorous half-sister, and he could not and would not allow that. His council did not listen to him, nor even ask for any suggestions he could make, but they made their own plans behind his back. Criston and Aemond had also betrayed his trust and plotted behind his back and without his consent decided to march to Rook's Rest instead of Harrenhal, which was the really important prize in this war that Daemon of all people now owned, even though the Lord of the old castle was his very own Master of Whisperers. Why put him as king and then ignore him still and treat him like a stupid child? He had not asked for any of this.

"A... a safe return? Do you mean Ser Criston? I heard he is an old friend of the family.”

The king hesitated. For a moment he didn't know how to answer you, knowing you knew what he meant but didn't want to believe it. He would fly into battle personally to support the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard who also served as his Hand. He would not be seen as weak, ever again.

“I will fly to Rooks Rest to support Criston and your father's army. Mayhaps I can guarantee that we do not lose too many men.”

Your expression in this very moment reminded him of a little doe - innocent, heartbreaking and full of worry. You quickly shook your head, causing a lock of your auburn hair, which reminded him of his mother's locks, to fall over the left side of your face. It seemed like you couldn't believe it, like you didn't want him to go and put himself in danger under any circumstances.

"But you are the king?" you questioned uncertainly, as if he was jesting, because you couldn't imagine that he was being serious. He was not a warrior. His younger brother, Aemond, should go, he was talented with the sword and his dragon was much bigger and far more experienced than Sunfyre.

"And that is exactly why I must go, my dear." Aegon leaned one shoulder against the cold stone of the altar so that he could look at you better while you would have this difficult conversation with each other.

"No, no, you cannot. You must not do that," you contradicted him, the expression on your pretty face becoming not just worried, but almost panicked. He almost had the illusion that you might actually care about him. That thought was just too good to be true...

"I declared this war and I will fight in it too."

Without being able to hold back any longer, you put one of your delicate hands on his arm and grabbed the soft, rich fabric of his green doublet, which, like your dress, was decorated with fine gold ornaments, because you didn't want to let him go. He was barely older than you and the thought of him personally flying to battle, much like your father - who did not have a dragon but still-, was one you couldn't bear. He was one of the few people you truly trusted and if, gods forbid, you were to lose your father, you couldn't also lose your cousin who had stolen your heart since day one.

"Aegon, please... do not do this."

Your hand on his arm, your soft voice and the pleading look in your eyes were simply too much for him. He couldn't hold back any longer. Without a warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against yours, making you gasp in shock into his mouth.

For a moment you didn't know what to do, but your body made the decision for you. Your eyes fluttered shut and you began to kiss him back gently and hesitantly, even though the rational part of you screamed at you that it was a sin, that he was your cousin, that you weren't betrothed to each other, that he was already married and that you were in the middle of the Sept, but you didn't even hear those voices anymore because you were already lost in the kiss.

Surrounded by the soft crackling of the candles and pleasant silence, Aegon lost himself completely in you. He kissed you as if you were the air he needed to breathe, as if you were everything that still bound him to this world and he couldn't stop, already addicted to your sweet taste.

The tip of his tongue grazed over the seam of your lips, begging for entry, and you, always obedient and docile, opened your mouth and let him in, whereupon a soft moan escaped you. That sweet little sound alone set his whole body on fire and he abruptly pushed your back against the altar with him caging you against the stone.

Your arms wandered around his neck, your thin fingers burying themselves in his silver mane, while his hands began to wander over your body and he explored your soft, feminine curves bit by bit, but he didn't really take much time, as he was loosing himself more and more in the proximity of you and the intimate kisses you shared.

His fingers started to rip open the laces of your bodice at your back, feeling the urge to see all of you, to feel your beautiful, milky skin under his palms while he let his lips wander over every inch of your perfect body, but before that could happen you broke the kiss, gasping for air.

"We...we can’t. Not here."

"Please, I need you. I need you so much, let me have you,” Aegon begged as he began to place some hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, causing your grip on his hair to tighten, which only served to increase the fire that burned inside him for you.

“I want you, Aegon. I want you more than anything, but not here, don’t do this to me. We could be seen.”

A long sigh escaped him and he buried his face in your cleavage, even though he knew you were right. It would be a scandal if he was seen taking your innocence on the altar of the Mother. His chambers, however, were more than available and wonderfully secluded for such depravity. But not now.

“You’re right, darling. You’re right,” he whispered, breathing heavily, as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible, because he didn’t know if he would ever have the chance to hold you in his arms again.

“We could go to my chambers? I am sure you would find my bed extremely... comfortable, Your Grace."

Aegon chuckled at your sweet attempt at being sensual, but it worked. He could feel his body instinctively snuggling closer to yours and he noticed how wonderfully you fit him, but he slowly began to lean back so he could look into your glistening eyes once again.

"I would love to, very much, but I must go."

The hope and desire slowly faded from your eyes and a look of confusion spread across your face for a split second before realization dawned on you and you realized why he had come to the Sept that day specifically.

"You are flying to Rook Rest today..."

Before you could object, the king pressed his lips against yours again and cradled your face in his hands to reassure you that it was fine and that he had to do this.

"I will not be seen as weak. I will come back to you, love. I will come back and then I will love you as you deserve, yes?" he murmured and leaned his forehead carefully against yours, his silver hair a contrast to the auburn of your family, which was also his.

"Promise me. Here, in front of the eyes of the gods."

"I promise."

As gently as he could, as if you were made of porcelain, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and let his eyes wander over you to memorize every little detail before Aegon then tore himself away from you with a heavy heart to get the conqueror's armor put on as quickly as possible back in the castle, to then mount Sunfyre and go to war.

He wanted to stay with you, by the gods, he wanted that more than anything else, but he had to do this. He had to prove to everyone that he could be the king they had wanted to mold him into.

You, on the other hand, felt tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him leave, because something inside you screamed that this kiss would be the last truly wonderful memory you shared with him.

And, unfortunately, you were soon proven to have been right.

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am III

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of your elopement

"Well," You said, throwing your phone down onto the bedside table," My father knows."

Aitana, your wife, was relaxed against the pillows. Her engagement ring and matching wedding band sparked in the late afternoon sun.

"This is a terrible first impression, you know."

You scoffed. "Please. I'm his favourite child. That makes you his favourite daughter-in-law."

Aitana frowned. "I don't think that's how it works."

"It is," You said decisively. You crawled towards her, straddling her legs and leaning closer," Trust me. I know a lot about being a favourite. Father's favourite. William's favourite. Definitely Harry's favourite."

Aitana laughed. Her hands landed on your hips, drawing you closer until your lips were moments away from brushing hers. "Still, I haven't actually met your father. He might decide I'm not worth it."

"He can pissed off then," You said," I married you. I'm staying married to you. No matter what."

"You're lucky my parents love you," She replied," Otherwise they'll be very annoyed by this whole eloping thing."

"Is it really elopement if the rings cost more than a car?" You wondered and Aitana laughed again, fondly pulling on a strand of your hair.

"Yes," She said," You rich people live on a different planet."

You grinned, leaning forward to connect your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. "You know," You whispered against them," You're one of those rich people now too. What do you want to do first? Pay off Barcelona's debts?"

She rolled her eyes, pushing you away until you flopped onto your back next to her. "I think there's rules against those kind of things."

"You're right." You nodded," I'll do it. It looks better coming from a pair of princesses."

Aitana paled somewhat at your words.

Yes, she knew that you were a princess. The daughter of the King of England. Yet it hadn't crossed her mind at all on that beach last night with just the two of you, the priest and your security guard and two hotel staff members signing as your witnesses.

She hadn't considered that she would become a princess now too. It hadn't even been a thought in her mind.

Well, at least no one could accuse her of being a gold digger.

"I..." She didn't quite know what to say so she settled on the obvious. "I love you."

You grinned back at her, easy and self-assured. "I love you too."

You sat up, wiggling into the spot next to her.

"Things won't change, Aitana. Not by too much. Father won't let the media leak anything, though I doubt there were any paps on the beach with us. He's gifting us a house in Barcelona. It's not quite what we imagined but we can make it work, at least for now. We have time before this all comes out."

Aitana sighed. "I have to tell my teammates."

"Do it later." You shimmied even closer to her, layering kisses up her shoulder and neck. "We're on our honeymoon."

Aitana grinned at you with another eye roll that she was almost too fond of giving you. "Well...you do make a good point."

"You're right...I do."

"I mean, we've told out parents. Those are the most important people."

She could feel your breath against the shell of her ear.

"And we are on our honeymoon."

"And we are on our honeymoon," She confirmed, throwing her phone down and surging forwards to kiss you. "My teammates can wait."

It was hours later when you and Aitana emerged onto the terrace to eat dinner and relax.

You didn't bother to get dressed. The whole villa was within a gated community and your security team had always been excellent at the jobs.

You had simply thrown on a robe and relaxed back in your seat.

Aitana had done the same and you sat opposite each other as the sun begins to set over the horizon.

"You promise nothing will change too much?"

"Aitana," You said, leaning forward," Things will change, yeah, but not in the way that you expect. You can still play football. You'll still have paps following your every move but you also get more protection. More protection against paps and...others." You both knew who you were talking about. "People are still going to pick apart your every move but there's a team of lawyers waiting to sue those people to shreds. Not all change is bad change."

She grinned at you, leaning forward as well. "Then tell me the good things."

You smirked back at her. "Well, for one, you get a fancy title and new place to live. Enough money to last more than a lifetime. Access to fancy things like private jets. A new passport, if you want it." You moved back into your chair again, flinging your feet up onto the table. "And a tiara, if you want."

Aitana blinked comically. "A tiara?"

You winked. "A tiara worth more than your ring."

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part V

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: ~1k | Warnings: mention of suicidal ideation

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Next part | Masterlist

Lucky was not a word Rhysand had used to describe himself in a long time. It was a word he used frequently when he was younger - a boy king with the world at his feet. Now it felt like a harsh reminder of the ways he had been unlucky or perhaps lucky with despair. Losing his mother and sisters all those years ago was a sore spot on his soul, one that ached less and less as the years went on.

He had spent the past few days with Azriel, going over the events of that night in excruciating detail. They mapped out the routes his family had taken, attempting to recreate the night minute by minute with everything they knew. 

“Did we ever actually see her?” Rhys’s words were desperate, a plea that they hadn’t overlooked her somehow, despite the fact she was sitting somewhere in his house right now. He rubbed his temple before tracing his fingers along the map, outlining the areas they had searched in the days that followed for any physical remnants of them. They wanted to ensure they had picked up any and all remains of them - they especially didn’t want anyone attempting to sell their things, a pretty penny for the clothes they had worn or the trunks they had carried.

“She died, Rhys. I felt it in my soul. She died.”

“Well, yes, but you and I are both in agreement that that is her.” Rhys’s fingers pointed in a vague direction. “She is drawn towards all the things she was centuries ago - moonberries, sweets, books. She only wears blue clothing for cauldron’s sake.”

The two males looked at the table, the High Lord deep in thought. “We received three boxes that night.”

Azriel stiffened, the memory of Rhys’s mother’s head too fresh after several centuries. Her unblinking eyes looking at Azriel, their glossy gaze screaming failure.

“We only opened two.”

Azriel stilled at the implication, his shoulders locked into place.

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

Rhys watched Azriel’s shadows move about the room, covering the windows to make the space darker. It caused Azriel’s siphons to glow, a pale blue light amidst the darkness, as if he were a lighthouse calling lost ships to the shore.

“No, I’m accusing Tamlin’s brothers of being liars.”

Azriel’s fingers dug into the wood, the slight pain unnoticeable to him amidst the usual pain his hands produced.

“But I felt it. I felt my soul cleave into two. I felt my world crumble. For a century now, I have been living as if I am half dead, as if half of my soul were missing. I have been limping through life because who am I to give up what was taken from her? No matter how badly I don’t want it.”

Azriel’s last words were barely a whisper, but Rhys stilled at the revelation, “Az, you’re not suggesting-”

“I am, Rhys. I thought about it a lot.” The room was so dark now, Rhys couldn’t see it but he heard the wood crack beneath Azriel’s grip. “I still think about it. But then my mind taunts me with visions of her. I see her face and I know she would be so disappointed in me if I gave up.”

“Az, she wouldn’t-”

“Yes, she would! She would hate that I move through the world as if I am limping. She would hate that I don’t live in our house anymore, that I move between your houses. She would hate what I’ve become in her absence.”

Rhys watched as his brother rose from his seat, steps untraceable despite his anger. He didn’t want to ask the question, but the words slipped from his tongue before he thought about them for too long.

“Az, how do you feel when you look at her?”

The shadowsinger stopped, shooting a heated glance over his shoulder.

“Like I’m finally alive again.”

-

Az spent the rest of the day untethered. He began by pacing his room, moved to pacing outside of Feyre’s door where he knew you resided, until now where he stood in the foyer, overlooking the gardens to watch you and Feyre move through the plants. A hand on his shoulders catches him off guard, too preoccupied to hear the shadows warning him of his brother’s presence.

“How is she?”

Cassian’s voice was gruff, his grip a little too tight. He knew Cassian was struggling just as they were, perhaps even more due to the decision to keep Cassian away as much as possible. They didn’t want to overwhelm her, and they knew between the three of them Cassian would be the best at keeping his distance. 

Az and Rhys sure as Hel would be incapable of it.

Azriel looked to the side, wanting to obscure as much of his face from Cassian’s knowing glance. “She seems to be fine.”

Cassian tilted his head as he watched them move about the gardens, the two wingless females stopping at the gardenias. His thoughts wandered through time, to the many occasions he spotted her down in the garden with the male beside him in various states of undress.

Cassian slung an arm around Azriel, his grip tight on his brother’s shoulder. Azriel looked over at him, watching his eyes line with silver.

“Do you want to talk with her?”

Cassian breathed in through his nose, clearing the unshed tears from his eyes. “More than anything. But she doesn’t need that right now.”

Cassian swallowed hard, looking to his brother. “Yes she does. She needs you.”

Azriel brought his attention to you, watching you walk with Feyre, hating just how right his brother was.

Author’s note: how we feeling 👀 are we sad yet 👀👀

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend

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Thanks for reading ❣️

[7s3ven]

GOOD LUCK, BABE! coriolanus snow + lucy gray

IN WHICH… coriolanus snow is obsessed with a girl from the Academy and goes to great lengths to keep her to himself.

“When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night. With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife.”

Warnings/notes (woah, that’s a lot) : LONGGG oneshot, lucy gray x fem! reader mentioned, bisexual reader (closeted), bisexual lucy gray, possessiveness (coriolanus), snake and song bird spoilers, not rlly following plot, differing details, y/n’s family is distantly related to the romanovs, angst, death of a baby, dark, abuse, mentions of murder, mainly in coryo’s POV, mentions of attempted suicide, messy marriage, medicated pills, anxiety mention, mental health issues mentioned, some manipulation

A/N: I tried to search something up for this BUT I ACCIDENTALLY SEARCHED “DARK DAYS CANNABIS”

—

Coriolanus Snow had been brought up in a wealthy family within the Capitol. At least, they were rich. They lost their status and money during the Dark Days when his father was killed in the war.

Coryo could still remember what he had witnessed. The blood spilt, the weapons raised, and the hunger. The hunger that got so extreme for some people that they resorted to a barbaric crime. He could still remember seeing a man carve off the leg of a maid. The visions engraved into his mind kept his awake at night, which was obnoxious when he was trying to sleep between the hours he spent studying.

Tonight would be different, though. He had received an invitation to a party, courtesy of his friends who had snuck his name to the host. They all thought he was as equally as rich when in reality, he didn’t even have a speck of dirt to his name.

Coryo arrived at the large mansion in his usual appearance; his dark eye bags concealed, perfectly styled blond hair, and pale skin which victorians would have killed for. Even with ghostly hued skin, Corio knew he was attractive. He saw the way girls eyes him up and down like he was a piece of meat. He felt slightly disgusted by them but he enjoyed the attention they gave him.

The ball room of the mansion was practically glittering as he stepped in, his gaze wandering over numerous expensive paintings and architect features fit for a Roman king.

His friends hadn’t given him much information as to who the host actually was but he instantly knew.

Y/N L/N was a year older than him and studied at the Academy too. She was due to start the University next year. That was really all Corio knew about Y/N L/N. Her family carefully planned what details they shared with the public, which admittedly weren’t many to begin with.

Coryo knew the L/N’s managed to stay on top, even during the Dark Days, but he always wondered how. He didn’t even register how Y/N L/N was walking towards him until she tapped his shoulder, charmingly smiling like she did to all her guests, yet it made Coryo feel special. Like that tilted grin was reserved for him.

“Coriolanus Snow, so glad you could make it.” Y/N uttered.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Coryo repeated his practised script that he had prepared. He wasn’t a very social person but he knew somewhat befriending Y/N would have its benefits in the future.

She was wealthy, well-known, and clearly the favourite of various professors at the Academy. Crossing the wrong path with her was asking for a death sentence.

“Allow me to show you around, Coriolanus. It’s the least I can do for someone as important as you. My condolences to your father as well.”

Coryo felt a bitter feeling well up in his throat. His father had given their family a prestigious title, without him and his money, they were nothing. He kept up with the facade, revealing how broke he truly was would only make him an outcast.

“You must be excited about the 10th Hunger Games offer.” Y/N spoke to make small talk as she guided Coryo through the building, occasionally pausing to explain something. “You were chosen as a mentor, were you not?”

“Yes. I was. For District Twelve.” Coryo responded. He saw Y/N visibly scrunch up her nose. District Twelve was infamous for being poor and weak, the runt of litter. Their profession was gathering coal but they didn’t have the glamor other Districts had. That’s what made them so unlikable. “If I remember correctly, were you not also given an offer to become a mentor?” He questioned.

“I turned it down. I am far too busy with my studies as I am. I do not have the spare time to mentor some kid who will only disappoint me.”

Y/N spoke with harsh and blunt words, but she wasn’t wrong. In the end, there could only be one victor and the odds of that was 1 out of 12.

“Nevertheless, Dr Gaul has still given me permission to see the tributes after they are chosen.” Y/N had always been curious, even when it didn’t serve her. The fear of missing out drove her forward.

Y/N stopped in front of a large painting, gazing up at it. “The Romanovs.” She stated. Everybody knew how the L/N’s were distantly related to the Russian family, they bragged about it at every party. They, or rather Y/N’s father, was also convinced that they were related to Julius Caesar. “I keep telling my mother to take the painting down and let the Romanovs rest in peace, but he refuses.”

Y/N resumed walking, leasing Coryo down a dim hallway. The lights flickered and although Coryo was not one to get scared, the eyes of the paintings that lined the walls made him uneasy.

“This is the room with the best view.” Y/N said as she unlocked a door and gently pushed it open. It creaked and Y/N immediately strode forward. Coryo adjusted his tie and followed her. Without a word, Y/N opened the doors leading to the balcony and showed Coryo a small smile.

She motioned for him to look. The garden was lit up with different coloured lights swirling around. Joyful music was playing and Coryo could hear the sound of laughter over it.

“How stunning.” He piped up, gaze raking over the various guests below. “For a moment, I thought you were going to murder me when you took me down that corridor.” That was his sorry excuse for a joke. Nevertheless, Y/N quietly laughed.

“We can never seem to get those lights to work.” She explained. “Shall we return back to the party? Your friends must have arrived by now.”

Coryo only nodded his head. He trailed behind Y/N through the twists and turns of the mansion, listening to the faint noise of classical music and Y/N’s heels clicking against the tiled floor.

“It was lovely speaking with you, Coriolanus.” Y/N nodded her head in acknowledgement as they returned to the glittering ballroom.

“My friends call me Coryo.” He said out of instinct, forgetting who he was talking to. Y/N L/N was not his friend. She was an acquaintance, a companion, somebody Coryo should be associated with but could never be friends with. She didn’t have friends, she had people who benefited her.

“I look forward to our next conversation, Coriolanus.” As expected, Y/N ignored his nickname offer. She smiled as she subtly established that they were not friends.

Coryo returned her polite smile. “Me too, Y/N. Enjoy your party.” He watched as Y/N walked towards her school companions, greeting them. Her small yet exclusive group consisted of only the best people. There was another heiress, two military leaders’ sons, and a few more spoiled girls.

Coryo found his eyes glued to Y/N as he stood in a corner, leaning his back against a stable pillar. If he hadn’t been watching so carefully, he would have missed the looks one of the girls gave Y/N and how she subtly reached for Y/N’s hand every five minutes to brush against it then draw back.

This caused Coryo to raise an eyebrow. He knew the look of a crush, all the girls in his year looked at him with lovestruck eyes of awe. This girl, who he identified as a mayor’s daughter, was nothing better. Coryo wondered if Y/N even noticed. She seemed oblivious as she conversed with a boy across from her about what seemed like serious matters. Coryo saw the strain in Y/N’s jaw and the furrow in the boy’s brows.

Y/N L/N fascinated him and despite all of Coryo’s instincts to look past whatever effect she had on him, he could not ignore his burning curiosity.

—

The next time Y/N and Coryo spoke was at the Academy after the tributes had been chosen. Coryo was on his way to greet his tribute from Distract Twelve, a brunette girl going by the name of Lucy Gray Baird, when Y/N called out for him.

“Coriolanus!” She exclaimed, excusing herself from her conversation with the same boy from the party and a girl in Coryo’s class. “Are you going to pick up your tribute?” Y/N asked as she got closer to him. She said it like the District Twelve girl was nothing more than a pet. Though, in the capital’s eyes, she was below the status of a pet.

“Yes. Would you like to accompany me?” Coryo knew what Y/N wanted so he gave her the offer before she could ask. Despite the shining excitement in her eyes, Y/N only faintly smiled.

“Yes please.” She calmly answered. Coryo stuck out his arm for Y/N to grasp, a sign of politeness. Having done this many times, Y/N snaked her hand around his bicep, lightly gripping it.

“How was the party?” Y/N questioned, tilting her head to the side. “I hope it wasn’t too boring for someone like you.”

Coryo’s jaw clenched but he made sure not to show it. Y/N was above him, he knew. It was common knowledge to him. And although Y/N didn’t know the truth, she thought she was superior. She’d be surprised when she found out she actually was.

“It was all about politics. If I had known you were going to show up, I would have invited more people with similar interests to you.” Y/N smiled, searching for a sign that she was getting under Coryo’s skin.

He simply shook his head. “I am invested in politics, though I do not show it. Many of my classmates favor the government running currently whereas I oppose them. They are relentlessly taxing us only to give our hard-earned money to those who do not deserve it.”

There was a hum of slightly approval from Y/N. “I am glad you agree with my opinion. Many of my companions are blind-sighted as well.”

That was the end of their conversation.

Coryo fidgeted with the long-stemmed white rose he held in his free hand, a gift Tigris had urged him to give his tribute. There was no one else at the train station save for the pair. Y/N’s grip on Coryo’s arm never wavered as the hot sun beat down on them.

“They never manage to keep the trains on schedule.” Y/N stated with a small sigh as she broke away from Coryo to sit on a nearby bench. It was then that Coryo noticed she was not in her Academy uniform.

She was dressed in a solid black skirt, a fitted white blouse, and a slightly cropped black blazer with golden buttons. Coryo’s gaze lowered to the pretty bow that was tied around her collar then to her Mary Jane heels.

The pair waited an hour before Y/N let out an exasperated sigh and quickly stood up. “I’m getting a drink. Would you care for one?”

“Black coffee, please. No sugar or cream. Thank you.” Coryo replied. He liked his coffee bitter.

“Of course.” Y/N walked off to find the nearest coffee shop, which wasn’t far. It was just down the road. Coryo tapped his foot, waiting for Y/N to return.

When he heard the sound of her heels against the stone, he turned his head.

“Still no train arrival?” She asked as she handed Coryo his steaming coffee. She held an iced tea in her hand, taking short sips occasionally.

Another hour passed.

Sweat trickled down Coryo’s back.

Y/N had walked off again, this time to get pastries. She dropped a paper bag into Coryo’s lap, smiling. “I thought you’d be hungry since all you have is that rose. I don’t think it’d be very tasty.”

Y/N bounced her leg as she leaned back, resting against the wall behind her.

The minutes crawled by like snails. It was painful to wait.

Y/N’s eyelids began to droop, no doubt tired from staying up all night to study. Coryo was struggling to stay awake too, the heat of the sun beating down on him.

His head tilted to the side, feeling heavy, before it accidentally landed on Y/N’s shoulder. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes were closed. She made no move to shake Coryo off, which made him conclude that she had fallen asleep.

Coryo let his eyes close for a split second. He didn’t expect to fall asleep. The next time he opened his eyes was when he heard the loud train whistle. The short train screeched to a sudden halt. It sat there for twenty minutes without assistance until a peacekeeper unlocked the chains and banged on the door with his baton, yelling at the tributes.

Y/N was the first to stand up. She watched as the tributes were harshly dragged out of the first cart. There was a furrow in her brow as the peacekeeper yanked a pale-skinned girl out, causing her to fall. The poor girl barely caught herself with her bound hands.

The peacekeepers banged at the door, shouting threats at the reluctant tributes. Coryo hesitated to move so Y/N plucked the rose out of his hand, sparing him small teasing smile.

“Hurry up, Coriolanus.” She whispered. Y/N strode towards Lucy Gray, whose eyes were glued to her. Coryo watched as Y/N paused in front of Lucy Gray. The brunette’s head was tilted up as she softly gazed at Y/N.

“Welcome to the Capitol.” Y/N greeted the brunette, holding out the white rose. Coryo wasn’t far behind Y/N. His hands lingered on her shoulders as she stared at Lucy Gray.

“Are you my mentor?” The District Twelve girl asked.

“Unfortunately not. Coriolanus here is your mentor.” Y/N said. Coryo saw Lucy Gray’s shoulders slump. She had been hoping for Y/N to be her mentor. “I best get back to the Academy. I have some work to do.” Y/N turned her head to speak to Coryo. “Lovely meeting you.” She politely smiled at Lucy Gray.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Lucy Gray asked as she played with the rose in her hands, referring to Y/N who had hurried off.

“No.” Coryo answered a little too quickly. “I’m Coriolanus Snow. Nice to meet you, Lucy Gray.”

—

Whenever Coryo went to visit Lucy Gray, Y/N would join him. Her arm was always wrapped around Coryo yet she spoke to Lucy Gray more than she spoke to him. Coryo was starting to think Y/N was only tagging along to see the District Twelve girl.

Coryo couldn’t help but let his gaze dart between the two girls who were locked in a laughter-filled conversation, separated by bars. Coryo could recognise the look of wonder in Lucy Gray’s eyes when she looked at Y/N but he clenched his jaw when Y/N started smiling at her more than him.

He was a better fit for the L/N heiress. Lucy Gray was merely a district girl, nothing more than that. She could never give Y/N what Coryo could. Coryo could make her dreams come true while Lucy Gray would only destroy them.

Soon enough, Y/N started visiting Lucy Gray without Coryo. He watched from a distance, tapping his foot in annoyance. Lucy Gray wasn’t even worth worrying about because Y/N was still loyal to her duty. As the only child of the L/N Family, it was her duty to continue the legacy. That started with marrying someone worthy, which Lucy Gray was far from.

Y/N wasn’t allowed to visit Lucy Gray before the Hunger Games started, so she passed on a message through Coryo.

“She says good luck.” Coryo uttered. He didn’t need to specify who the message was from, Lucy Gray already knew. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Coryo said as he handed Lucy Gray another white rose. He eagerly watched as she smelled the rose which carried the scent of Y/N’s perfume to conceal the poison he had added.

He had grown infatuated with Y/N over time and he was determined to get to her before Lucy Gray, even if that meant slipping small doses of poison to her, which wasn’t enough to kill her but it would hinder her senses.

Despite wanting to prove his fellow mentors wrong because he was naturally competitive, Coryo was still clinging to a bit of hope that Lucy Gray would be eliminated early on during the game. She was not.

Coryo almost wanted to send a drone at her himself.

Y/N always stood beside him, not minding how Coryo laced his hands with hers. She was far too focused on the screen whenever Lucy Gray appeared on it.

Despite secretly rooting against Lucy Gray, he couldn’t help but be stunned when her singing lulled the snakes. They didn’t attack her, which made Coryo’s eyes narrow. He glanced at Y/N, who was subtly fidgeting. Clearly, she had used some sort of tactic to make the snakes docile only to Lucy Gray.

“She won.” Y/N whispered as all but one of the tributes were finally eliminated. “She won. Stop the games.” But nobody moved. “She’s won. Let her out!” Murmurs arose as Y/N’s voice rose in volume. She tugged on Coryo’s sleeve.

“Let her out. She’s the victor.” Coryo repeated Y/N’s words as he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. It fell, creating a loud clanging noise.

“Lucy!” Y/N exclaimed as the brunette girl exited the broken down arena. She hugged Lucy Gray while Coryo lingered behind, far enough to not understand what Lucy Gray was whispering to Y/N.

“Y/N, you have to run away with me. Please. It’s not safe for you here. You may think you know these people but you don’t. He’s going to kill you one day or another.” Lucy Gray gripped Y/N tightly, begging her. She saw the darkness in Coryo, even if nobody else could.

“Good job.” Coryo said as he walked closer, interrupting Lucy Gray. He pat her on the back but the gesture felt almost like a warning. Before their conversation could continue further, Y/N heard her father call out her name.

Lucy Gray’s victory would ensure Coryo the Plinth Prize, making him realize that maybe Lucy Gray surviving wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The rewards, however, were short-lived when Coryo was accused of cheating by Dean Highbottom. Of course, it wasn’t him, it was Y/N. But Coryo would never admit that.

He was given two options. Either enrol as a peacekeeper or be exposed. He had to choose the first to escape being disgraced. He had clawed his way to the top with what little he had and he’d rather die than let go of it.

Lucy Gray and Y/N had long split ways but Coryo saw the way she searched for the brunette in every crowd. He knew they exchanged letters. He knew everything about Y/N, not because he was a creepy stalker but because Y/N willingly shared information.

Coryo knew her favorite color, her favorite pair of shoes, her favourite skirt.

He knew how she hated drinking a carbonated beverage after eating spice.

He knew Y/N down to every minor detail. All her hobbies, all the useless details she spilled to him, all her dark secrets.

He knew she had blood on her hands, having killed during the Dark Days out of pure necessity after being attacked.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself? There’s no maids to do your bidding.” Y/N adjusted Coryo’s shirt out of instinct.

“I’ll be fine.” He reassured her for the seventh time just as he had done with Tigris.

“No offence, Coriolanus, but you don’t belong out there. I give it three months tops before you lose your mind.” Y/N joked. He quietly laughed, tapping her chin. He would have grabbed it and kissed Y/N if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was hopelessly in love with a district girl.

Coryo knew that until Lucy Gray was out of the picture for good, Y/N would never kiss him back.

“I’ll write to you.” Coryo said, determined to overflow Y/N’s mailbox with letters from him instead of Lucy Gray.

“Good luck, Coryo. I’ll be here waiting for you. And tell her I say hi.”

Coryo nodded. He refused to relay the message but Y/N didn’t need to know that. Coryo planned to make Lucy Gray believe Y/N had forgotten her. He didn’t care what he had to do; steal Lucy Gray’s mail, whisper fake words to her, even forge a letter. He’d do it all to ensure Y/N was his to keep.

Days as a peacemaker weren’t easy. Despite having more food than he had in the Capitol, the work was laborious. Coryo didn’t even get a chance to stumble into Lucy Gray. He was losing his mind, just like Y/N predicted. He might’ve committed suicide if it hadn’t been for Sejanus Plinth, his good friend from the Academy, suddenly showing up.

The twisted events after Sejanus’ arrival shook Coryo. He had found Lucy Gray with her old lover, Billy Taupe, constantly trailing behind her. She sang at a bar of sorts, her voice echoing off the walls. Coryo had attended one of her performances for Y/N’s sake, not expecting Lucy Gray’s song to feel so targeting.

“When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night.” Lucy Gray locked eyes with Coryo as she sang, making him feel a little uncomfortable. He had a theory as to who this song was based around. “With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife. And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you're standing face to face with I told you so.”

To make matters even worse, Sejanus was acting rather suspicious, always whispering with Billy Taupe like they were planning something. Coryo’s suspicion was proven true when Sejanus revealed his plan to flee North.

The first to die was Mayfair Lipp, the mayor’s daughter who had stumbled across a meeting and threatened to rat them out. Coryo had shot her.

And when Billy Taupe threatened to shoot Lucy Gray, Spruce shot him.

Sejanus was next, hung for treason and rebellion. Coryo could still hear the jabberjays repeating his last words, driving him insane. He still had one more person to deal with before he could be transported to District Two for elite training. And that was none other than Lucy Gray. As long as her name existed, Y/N would never truely be Coryo’s.

Lucy Gray escaped the bullets shot at her but Coryo knew she wouldn’t dare return. All he had to do now was wipe away her existence, brushing her off as a mere ghost.

Coryo returned to Panem crueler than he had left. The bloody stains on his hands deepened in color as he secretly poisoned Dean Highbottom, only adding to his rising kill count.

He had created the life he knew he deserved. He was powerful, respected, and known so it was not a surprise when the L/N’s reached out to him with an offer for an arranged marriage. Y/N never spoke about it to him but he knew she would prefer him over a complete stranger.

It was late at night when there was an abrupt knock on the door. Coryo had just gotten back from a long day of studying, barely having the chance to pull his long coat off. He slowly opened the door, peeking past the smooth wood to see who was outside. He raised an eyebrow in surprise when he saw Y/N. She had a bleeding head, blood dripping from the various cuts on her face.

“Can I come in?” She asked but Coryo was already stepping aside and opening the door wider.

“Sorry if the house is messy. We’re renovating.” He lied through his teeth as he pressed a cool towel to Y/N’s head to stop the stinging.

“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.” She replied. Y/N didn’t even need to think to assume that Coryo was telling the truth. She believed every lie he carefully fed her.

“I always thought I lived in a house with an angry man… turns out it was my mother.” Y/N uttered, leaning against Coryo for support. It was no secret that Y/N’s mother was anything but kind. She pushed Y/N and her father past their limits.

And she always blamed Y/N for what seemed like the fun of it. The fights were usually only verbal but it had gotten of hand this time and shards of glass were now embedded into Y/N’s skin.

Coryo didn’t sleep much that night, too busy overlooking Y/N’s condition. She was bruised and battered, it had taken an hour to pull the shards of glass out even with Tigris’ help. Y/N was sleeping soundly now, her hand wrapped around Coryo’s wrist to comfort herself.

Lucy Gray couldn’t hurt him anymore. He had gotten what he wanted and he refused to let go of it until his dying breath.

Their wedding was grand and over the top, regarded as Panem’s greatest event. Coryo made sure the wedding distracted Y/N from thinking about Lucy Gray, which he knew she did. He would catch her reading their old letters which she kept hidden in a box. Y/N was under the impression that Lucy Gray had fled somewhere so nobody could find her. Of course, that was a letter orchestrated by Coryo.

With Coryo working alongside the Gamemakers and becoming a favoured candidate for presidency and Y/N’s position as a revered lawyer, the couple lived a good life. Coryo would never again know poverty and hunger. He would never have to eat those awful Lima beans again.

Coryo was so focused on his future and keeping his life the way it was now that he failed to notice the cracks in his marriage until he and Y/N no longer ate in the same room or spent any time together. Yet even then, he barely acknowledged it, his ambition pushing him forward.

Every word he uttered to Y/N was laced with poison, for he was beginning to resent her. She made him vulnerable and weak, the two flaws Coryo hated the most.

Their house was no longer happy, it felt like walking on eggshells and thin ice. Every week was filled with a new argument. Perhaps Y/N was starting to loathe him too because she never spoke when he was around, only sending him a harsh glare.

“You remind Lady Snow of her mother.” One of the many maids spoke as she adjusted Coryo’s pillow. He had fallen ill but Y/N never visited him. He could see why now.

Y/N hated her mother after the night she had thrown a vase at her head. She had married Coryo to get away from her mother, yet another version of abuse continued to plague her.

It was about a year after their marriage when Y/N became pregnant.

Coryo was still hard at work with his new job of president, which stressed both him and Y/N. Y/N was expected to be the perfect wife in front of other political women; never mad, never sad, never showing any emotion. It got to the point that she had to take prescribed medicine to calm down her rising anxiety.

Coryo was often out late, leaving Y/N to tend to the house and everything else herself. She ate dinner alone, looked at her work documents alone, slept alone. It felt like her husband was no longer in her life because he left early in the morning and never returned until midnight.

Sometimes she’d stay up just to feel the mattress dip as Coryo climbed into bed, his hand resting on Y/N’s waist for a split second before he retracted.

She often found herself waking up at three in the morning, haunted by nightmares of Lucy Gray. Y/N placed her head in her hands like she always did, letting a shaky breath pass her lips. Lucy Gray was right, she was nothing more than Coryo’s wife, if she was even that to him now.

Y/N was, to put it lightly, exhausted in every aspect a person could be. Her numerous medicated pills prescribed to her for various mental issues were giving her a headache and she couldn’t even recall the last time she had spoken to Coryo. She thought that since she and Coryo had gotten along so well before his peacekeeping training that their marriage would be similar to that. But it seems something in District Twelve had changed him for the worst.

“How is my baby?” Y/N asked the doctor, her hands clasp together on her lap. “You said last time he was doing good. How is he now?” She softly smiled, something she hadn’t done in a while. When the doctor hesitated, her smile faltered. “He’s still doing good… right?”

The doctor silently removed his glasses. “I’m sorry.” He uttered, shaking his head.

The death of her baby was all her fault. It was the pills and the constant stress no doubt. Y/N walked through the street, feeling numb. She crashed into various people but she couldn’t hear their angry shouts, the ringing in her ears was too loud.

She returned back to the house, fully prepared to lock herself in her room and break down. Maybe even take all her pills in a desperate attempt to join her baby. She wasn’t expecting Coriolanus Snow, her absent husband, to be perched on the sofa with a wad of newspaper in his hands.

“How was your appointment?” Coryo questioned as he flipped the page of his newspaper, not bothering to look up at his wife. This was the first time he had spoken to her in a week. He hardly ever came out of his room to eat with her anymore.

When there was no reply, that was when Coryo finally lifted his head to glance at his wife’s tear-stained face. His gaze studied her blood-shot eyes, her trembling lip, and the way she held a hand over her belly like she was trying to protect the baby. He pieced it all together.

“The baby…” Y/N muttered, pausing her words as she took a shaky step forward. She barely caught herself. “It…”

She didn’t have to continue before Coryo quickly stood up, casting his now abandoned newspaper to the side. His eyes were cold and unwavering and for a minute, Y/N thought he was going to strike her for being so careless of his heir. She flinched as he took quick strides towards her, expecting a slap.

“The baby… the doctors said it…” She couldn’t say it, she refused to say it. She had one job; take care of a baby and she failed at that.

Coryo didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Y/N’s shaking form. It was the first time he had hugged her in months, maybe even years. Y/N couldn’t quite remember.

“We’ll try again.” Coryo spoke as Y/N finally allowed herself to break down in his arms. He held her like he used to before their marriage became a mess. She missed the feeling of his arms around her. She missed him.

Coryo could feel Y/N’s tears wet his shirt and her sobs rack her body. He pressed a hesitant kiss to her head. “We’ll try again when you recover from this… I’ll give you the daughter you’ve always wanted.”

THG TAG LIST (comment to be added) : @bianca4ukiss

[cherryyycosmosss]

Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

He sees you for the first time. ☯️

This is set in the heian era, where the reader is a princess.

Enjoy <3💗

𝙏𝙨𝙠.

"These filthy imbecile sorcerers, do they really think that joining forces with each other is going to help them decimate me?"

Sukuna groaned holding his bloodied arm as he made his way to the river through the dense forest.

He had just annihilated a group of sorcerers who had teamed up with one another thinking they could actually eradicate the king of curses, but were proven wrong and suffered the same fate as their other fellow sorcerers.

He bent down at the edge of the river and as he sank his arms into the flowing water to wash off the blood enveloped on them, he heard a faint humming echo in his ears.

It sounded sweet, innocent and almost pleasant which surprised him a little since hearing people being happy usually made him want to snap their bodies in half.

The mesmerising melody rang in his ears and he couldn't help but feel drawn to it. So, he slowly walked towards where he guessed this voice was coming from, his curiosity slowly rising but all of his thoughts came to an abrupt halt stopping him on his tracks when his eyes laid on 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

You were sitting on top of a large rock, a white little kitten resting on your lap as you hummed a song, hand gently caressing its soft fur trying to lull the kitten to sleep.

You were wearing a floral, paled turquoise coloured uchikake with lilac and white accents, its fabric flowing along the breeze of the wind in harmony with your long black hair.

𝘽𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡, he thought to himself watching you from behind a tree so that his sudden presence wouldn't scare you off.

You looked at the little animal fondly with a serene smile resting on your lips and sukuna felt his heart beating slightly faster.

He couldn't comprehend how someone could look so pristine, knowing that the world he was born in wasn't one that was run on empathy and goodwill and 𝙮𝙚𝙩, your eyes held so much kindness and affection that he knew they'd be able to mend a broken soul with just a look alone.

He knew that he could capture you right then and there, taking you with him to keep you all to himself but what he was also aware of, was that the moment he'd do something like that, all of that warmth in your eyes would be replaced with terror, fear and agony.

The thought of that glow disappearing from your eyes angered him a lot more than he'd like to admit and he just couldn't figure out why.

In just a span of a few minutes, for the first time, he felt an array of emotions that he didn't even know he was capable of feeling reminding him that even though people called him a monster, a demon or a heartless beast, maybe, just maybe, he was 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 afterall.

"My lady, where have you been, we've been looking all over the palace for you."

A woman came running, stopping right in front of you, panting as she tried to catch her breath.

"Oh honoka, I was just out getting some fresh air, you mustn't worry so much about me."

You said smiling at your lady-in-waiting.

"But my lady, it's going to get dark soon, we shall return to the palace now."

She said with worry laced in her voice.

"Fine, let's head back."

You said not wanting to make her worry anymore than you already had.

Sukuna watched you disappear into the dawn, suddenly finding himself craving the calmness your presence had brought to his heart.

However, he didn't dwell on that concern for too long because he knew he was going to see you again soon,

𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣.

[boredzillenial]

Day four of @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction ’s Kinktober

One escape attempt is all it takes for King John to put you on a tighter leash… Literally.

A continuation of this fawktober fic from last year! Same tags apply: Dead Dove!- DNE, Dub-con, John is also his own warning, f!reader, oral (John receiving), pinv, creampie, some yelling

You thanked god that John grew bored within a week of his demand to have you splayed across his table for breakfast. On the first day he’d stopped his morning ritual he had however, enjoyed rejecting you. That momentary flutter of confusion and even a bit of disappointment that you weren’t going to come that morning set something new alight in his mind.

It was eery the next few days. He was looking for a new avenue to fuck with you. He had been itching for you to slip up. Miss his actual meals? Nope. Forget to empty his chamber pot or clean his linens? Never.

Actually you’d stepped up in an unexpected way and assisted the concubines who’d visit. Helping dismiss them quickly out of the castle when you could tell he was disappointed by the events of the night prior, even cleaning his quarters so he couldn’t so much as tell they had been in the room. In fact, the more he thought about it, why were you helping in this way…

He decided whilst you were in the kitchen retrieving his luncheon he’d figure it out. He crept through the castle, taking little side passages and corridors he’d noticed previous servants taking before he found your quarters you shared with a couple other female servants. Both of which were hanging about when he entered, “Not a word, out.” He hissed, they paled and cleared the room.

Once alone he started by slamming open every chest. Disturbing the contents and dumped them across the floor, but found nothing out of the ordinary, “Damn you, what are you hiding.” He seethed flipping over the mattresses.

The sound of a heavy coin purse smacking the stone halted his efforts. He’d expected to find some money in the chests but why had there been one under a mattress. After closer inspection of the ruin he’d made he found a sprawled batch of papers alongside the coin purse.

He picked them up and inspected the contents closely, there were names, cities mentioned, “Surprised any of you know how to read, much less write.” He sneered before he read on.

What he found next sent his blood boiling, you’d been using his whores to make connections. A network to help you escape.

“You little,” He threw the papers aside and slammed open the door. John stormed through the servants quarters, shoving aside those who’d not paid attention. How dare you try to get away from him! This thought pounded in his head as he continued to carve his path, growling in frustration as he passed through the kennels full of hunting dogs.

“Shut the fuck up!” He snarled at the baying creatures in their kennels. But as he glared at the lot of them he noticed something, maybe there was a way to get you in line… John snatched the instrument he intended to use to keep you in line and stormed back to where you awaited with his luncheon.

You jolt away from the table as the door to his chambers slam open. Quickly you avert your gaze and take a couple steps away from where you’ve prepared his meal. “Kneel.” He snapped.

At once you knelt, fear sent your body shaking as you lock your gaze on the floor infront of you. You flinched as he stepped into your view, dangling in his hand, some sort of leather. With an almost painfully tight grip he grabbed your chin and yanked your gaze up to where his burned. “You, wish to flee from me?” Though he looked absolutely furious he seemed almost hurt.

“My king, what are you -“

“Don’t lie to me!” He yelled down at you, “I know you are preparing to run. Where do you think you will go hmm?” He tilted your head from side to side, assessing the curve of your neck. “Where would you flee.”

“Your majesty, I assure you-“ He stopped your lie with a hiss and let go of your chin.

“More lies. I wasn’t sure about this earlier but now I know this is necessary.” He unfurled the collar and leash and fastened it around your throat. The cool leather pressed against your neck. You were already dizzy from fear, but now your pulse pushed against the collar. “Seems I need to keep a tight leash on you. It’s a shame really.” He tsked looking down at you.

A cruel smile worked its way across his lips as he watched. The sweat that beaded at your temple, how the leather dug into your neck… But a new idea caused him to lean down and loosen the collar a bit.

“Thank you-“ you choked out.

“Oh don’t thank me yet. Not when I have to teach you a lesson in loyalty…” his low tone sent another shiver through you.

He shifted, pulling his already hardened length free and pressed the tip against your lips, “Now, say you’re sorry.”

As soon as you went to speak he pulled on the leash and pressed into your warm mouth. His head lolled back and groaned as he slowly pressed into you, “christ your mouth is divine…” He shifted his gaze back to see you work.

A thought entered your mind. Maybe, if you could manage to please him quickly he’d be done and you could accelerate your plan. You locked your eyes with his, wrapped your hand around his girth and applied slow, firm strokes as you sucked and swirled around him.

“Y-you… Where’d you learn to do that…” He groaned, his face already flushed and mouth agape.

Instead of answering you swallowed him down as deep as you could, and pulled an almost pained gasp from him. He bucked against the back of your throat for a moment before he pulled out completely. “No, you’re lesson won’t end that quickly.” He growled and hauled you up to toss you on his large plush bed.

He shifted between your legs, pushed your skirts up and leaned forward. The fat wet tip pressed against your damp core as he leaned up and snatched the collar around your throat. “Has our morning time together meant nothing?” He twisted the collar tighter along with his question and watched as you fought a gasp.

“Perhaps this is a better motivation.” In one stroke he released the collar and buried himself to the hilt. He relished the whimpered gasp that leapt from your lips and the feeling as your cunt fluttered around him. “Such a tight little thing you’ve got between your legs.” He growled and pressed deeper.

You arched and shifted attempting to get some relief from the pressure, but the King had other plans. He shifted to wrap the leash around his fist and tugged to press further into you, “What did I say about running…” he growled through gritted teeth.

“I - I’m sorry-“ You whimpered, earning you another wicked grin.

“Again.” He hissed, his temp easing.

You repeated it, over and over again like a prayer. It seemed that John was not as malevolent as you thought, at least not at the moment. Each plea softened him and for a moment you could’ve sworn his expression softened.

He tossed the leash to the side, opting to pull you closer, throw your legs over his shoulder and lean in as far as the tension in your legs would allow, “Don’t - don’t ever try to leave again.” He huffed.

When you looked up at him, that thing so close to desperation in his eyes softened something in you as well. His arms wrapped around your head to lock behind your head, holding you steady as he leaned in even further to press his lips against yours.

The entirety of him was so completely pressed against you the rough curls of his groin rubbed against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to release.

“D-don’t leave me-“ Now it was him chanting a soft prayer. Each rut of his hips pushed against that spot that sent fire through your groin and before you realized it you came shivering and crashing down underneath him.

He didn’t stop as you writhed, using your gasping breath to slip his tongue deeper. The moment you accepted and twined your tongue with his he crashed into his own climax.

You would’ve never guessed this ruthless man could make such needy little noises as he drove those white hot ropes of release as deep as he could.

“N-now,” He seemed to come back to himself as his mind cleared, “You are to stay in these chambers, until I feel the lesson has truly sank in.” He huffed, wincing as his overly sensitive length fell from you.

A mixture of pleasure and dread sank into you as you felt him trickle from your core. “Oh would you look at that -“ he slipped his fingers up your folds and pressed his release back into you, “We’ll have to start your next lesson…”

———————-

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxight-blog @faretheeoscar @queerponcho @for-a-longlongtime @silvernight-m @ierofrnkk

[tinkerbelle05]

i needddddddddddd a luffy angst or smut pleaseeeeee idc abt the storyline or if its short or long i js need luffy so badly

Second Place

Characters: Luffy x Wife!reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You loved Luffy, and you knew that he loved you too. However, you also know that you will always be 2nd place to his love. He was more in love with being the king of the pirates and it’s starting to show. And you had enough.

Warning: bad relationships, angst, bad ending, slightly ooc Luffy tbh, no proofread

—

You laid there, on your cold bed in the middle of the night. The only light source was the dimmed moonshine from the window, but otherwise, it was pitch black and silent. You always tried waiting up for Luffy, so you could sneak in a goodnight kiss and maybe a light conversation.

You always loved your nighttime conversations with him. It'll be you two, in this very bed, talking about anything and everything until you both fell asleep in eachother’s arms. That's how you would wake up too.

But those times were nothing but a distant memory. Something to warm you while you laid there cold and lonely.

When Luffy did make it through the door, he was quiet. Maybe he didn’t want to disturb? That’s what you thought at first too. Until you realize it was because he was injured in some fight or mission you weren’t made aware of. You weren’t made aware of a lot of things.

You recalled vividly of when you first discovered.

You sat there on the bed reading with a candle lit. By this time you were knocked out snoring but you wanted to at least say talk with your husband first. With he’s busy schedule, it was hard to make time for each other so this was the next best thing.

You saw the bedroom door opening and it revealed Luffy. But he looked more than just tired. His skin was pale and clammy, he looked absolutely terrible.

Immediately, you were up and out of bed. You walked towards him, your brows frowned with worry but before you could utter a single word, he shuts you down.

“Don’t.” He said and laid down on the bed with a deep sigh.

You stood there, in shock and dismayed. It was rude, it was dismissive. As if you were a nagging child and not a concerned wife.

You glared down at him, “Well excuse me for worrying about my husband.” You laid down on the bed, at the edge of your side and with your back to him. You heard him sigh and shift in the bed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m…I’m just stressed. With all of the missions and—”

You sat up and turned to him, “Missions? Since when did you have missions?”

You don’t remember anyone telling you about missions at all. To you, the Strawhats hadn’t been on a single mission for a month, which you thought was weird but you didn’t know much about pirates to question it.

You saw as Luffy winced, “Oh, sorry. I guessed I forgot to tell you. Was to busy planning them, hehe.” He laughed softly, obviously trying to lightened the mood.

You didn’t want that, however. You had plenty of questions, but. This was probably the first time in weeks you gotten to talk to Luffy. An actual conversation, not just quick greetings and chaste kisses.

You sighed and got comfortable on the bed. You were noticeable closer to Luffy now.

“Well tell me about the missions? Where’d you go? What’d you take?”

Luffy chuckled at your questions and went into full detail about all of the things you missed out.

But that was two months ago and things have only gotten worse. There are times where Luffy barely acknowledged you, he makes no time for you, nor does he put in any effort to your marriage.

It was always you scheduling dates that had to be canceled, it’s always you wanting to talk but he’s too tired to give you the time of day, and it’s always you making sure he takes care of his wounds. Or gets enough sleep. Or he eats something that isn’t meat.

You understood that Luffy wanted to be King of the Pirates but he was becoming increasingly reckless in his pursuits. Which meant more wounds that you needed to take care of because he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself.

You were tired of it. You felt like a servant rather than a wife. You guessed you weren’t enough. Wiping off the stray tears from your cheeks, you began to pack your clothes. The Going Merry was docked at some island—you had forgotten the name but you had some money saved up. You’ll be fine without him.

With your bags packed, you started twisting the ring on your finger. It was a pretty thing, something you thought you would always wear until your dying breath. You slipped it off your finger and placed it on the desk that was overflowing with maps of foreign lands.

“What are you doing?” You heard Luffy. You turned to see him standing at the doorway. His eyes caught to your packed bags and the ring that was on the desk.

His expression was unreadable but it obviously wasn’t happy.

“I’m leaving,” you responded and pushed passed him. Surprisingly, he followed you. He didn’t utter a word to you until you got to the docks, you guessed that he assumed you were bluffing, but you weren't.

“Why?!” You heard Luffy shout and that stopped you in your tracks. It made your blood run cold that he even had the audacity to ask such a question.

“Excuse me? Don’t ask stupid questions like that, Luffy,” you glared up at him.

He ran after you, grabbing your arm to stop you from moving, “How is it a stupid question?! How is it a stupid question to ask why my wife is leaving me?”

“Oh so now I’m your wife,” you sassed. “Luffy, when was the last time we kissed? Held hands? Hell, when was the last time we had a conversation that wasn’t about your recklessness?! When was the last time you held me in your arms?!”

His face betrayed no emotion, “I…I know I haven’t been the best husband, I can admit that. But, you know how important my dream is to me. To be the best of the best, I have to work hard.”

You tilted your head. Feeling your heart break all over again, you asked him the question that’s been weighing on your mind for a while.

“Is being the pirate king more important than me? Than being a good husband?” You asked.

You knew the answer. It was obvious to you, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Now—“

“It’s a yes or no, Luffy. Answer the question,” You pressed him

"Listen, you know that it's always been my dream to become the Pirate King, and that comes with sacrifices," Luffy explained. He stepped closer to you and attempted to touch your arm but you pulled away. Your rejection didn't stop him from continuing, "But never doubt that I don't love you. Because I do and--"

You smiled sharply, "You may love me or think that you love me, but I will always be second place in your dreams. Your dreams would always take priority over me and I..I cannot accept that. Not anymore." You said and turned around, trying to blink back the tears.

Luffy wasn't the best husband in the world, that was obvious. But when he was there and present, he was so, so good to you. Your best friend, your confidant, your "forever". And while a small part of you still loved Luffy, still wanted him to hear him say that you are his number one, you knew that it was only a dream that would never come true.

You turn back around one last time and leave him with this, "Goodbye, Luffy. I hope you get your dream."

-

Tags: @abree234, @louissolovely, @randomhoex, @marceesworld, @dragonqueenfk, @puff-hugs, @childofhecate108, @foxflamewarrior, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @thatgothic-nerd, @0picels0, @charliepoopyfart, @rotin0, @nikolaevna-art, @cielitoot7, @tayharrper, @simpingmyassoff, @borkbarnes, @villainouspotential, @ramielll, @fujinnn, @fuck-you-im-gae, @poketrainer2270, @dazaisfavgf, @smolraccoon25, @hopester08, @don-tuna, @avatarkanemi, @dimplewonie, @fandomsunited, @synchronised-beat

Masterlist & Taglist & Reqs Info

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Who would you think would most likely to baby trap their barling in Obey me? Take your top four pick and why?

The tactic of baby-trapping is a hefty one. One that pales in comparison to these devils' powers and connection to you with their pacts. In the devil dom, they already have an advantage over you anyway so this is more of a psychological thing. Whether it's to satisfy his psyche or to control yours these are my top picks…

Mammon

He is the avatar of greed 

who better than he to own you in a way that actually manifests a child

“Better off sticking with me! You’ll need my help to raise the coolest little copy of me!” 

Its honestly probably an accident 

But as long as he gets to keep you by his side so be it

At first, he’s just not fully aware of the responsibilities that come with having a baby

And boy is he winded

He can’t run out because you and Lucifer are willing to chain him down to help

So he’ll suffer the long nights and the wailing as you both just get used to raising an infant

But once he gets past the dread he’s elated

Not only does the love of his life stay by his side forever but he has a cute kid to prove it

He won’t tell you that though

“Hah?! Love ‘em? I tolerate the little booger at best! Hey! Don’t hold him like that, you’ve got to be gentle!”

A doting father to the max 

and even being more attentive if not more obsessive with you

“I bet you thought the great Mammon would leave you to rot! Fear not I only left to get takeout…and diapers.”

“Mammon!”

“...and the heads of those demons that were talkin’ bad about ya…”

“Mammon!”

“What?! It was on the way!”

Asmodeus

Oddly enough he does it because of self-esteem 

Whether it's yours or his it's up to you

If it's yours he’s just tired of you looking down on yourself

And using it as an excuse not to be with him

Well if you're so certain you're not the most gorgeous human in existence then why are you pregnant with the child of the most beautiful devil in devil dom

If it's not your self esteem it's his 

Your divine.

He knows it you know it

And so does everyone else 

He’s not afraid of you beating him

He’s afraid of the crowd that follows

“Wow (Y/n)-chan your so popular…they seem to like you an awful lot...”

He’s never felt so insecure about himself before

How will the world know your his 

…better than with a product of your bond

“Wow! Aren’t they the cutest?! They’ve got my looks!” 

Youtuber kid all the way

Your child is more likely to be on more magazine covers than their father himself

Which makes it harder to escape if that was ever an option in the first place

But that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t feel the need to pick off your most avid fans

Especially the fans and theorists that notice your worried gaze and the possessive hold on your hip

“Oya you really captured their emotions that way! Too bad we can’t have you ruining their Winter debutant. Don’t be too sad! You are having the most beautiful demon be the one to end your worthless ugly life.”

Barbatos

Even with your summoner status, he’s a tough demon to beat

The power of time and teleportation are on his side

Which can make for a maddening punishment if you try to escape him

“Oh, so you insist on running, then? Fine but I’m not privy to keep doing this with you.”

Its also just easier to keep your mind on him this way

Since you're so insistent on trying to run he might as well make it impossible for you to do so 

Emotionally at first

This doubles as his claim to ownership and a way to halt you from running ever again

As a butler to the king, everything he has is to serve his master

Even you are allowed to be in his possession its because his master lets him or doesn’t know

But a child

His and your child 

That's something he can fully own

It works with your mind as well

Leaving you to either make the heartless decision to abandon your child 

or to stay and have no choice but to grapple with this constant piece of him 

That is if he lets it get that bad

Again with time as a tool, he can make it so everything he says and does makes perfect sense

“Let’s have a baby, my love. It’d be death all over again if you won’t indulge me.” 

“Oh Barbs, I was thinking just the same!”

Diavolo

Has to be given the idea

It's not going to be his first thought

“Won’t that be cool! Then we could be together all the time! Just the three of us!”

Whether its Barbatos or you scoffing at his behavior something gives him the bright idea

Like most things, he’ll be upfront

He doesn’t really need to stake his claim 

He’s the prince of devil dom 

The very clothes on your back say you belong irrevocably to him

it's more like he believes it’ll make your relationship better

You’ll be more willing to have fun not run if your child demands it

Right?

“Wow! Good job you managed to get them all in perfect order!” 

“Good job!? They killed half the staff for a demented dominoes game!”

“...”

“That's a bad thing!”

“R-right! That's a bad thing just like your mother says!”

[fandom-puff]

I have lots of smutty thoughts:

John Shelby is secretly a kinky fck with a massive dom side that would put Tommy to shame

Sirius Black is the biggest sub and has cum just by eating you eat out multiple times

Hotch is really vanilla until he meets you and realizes how absolutely filthy you are it ends with him taking a week off just so you two can fck uninterrupted and discover every kink he didn’t know he had

Omggg. I’ve put a ‘read more’ thing cos this is a bit longer!

Send smutty thoughts about fictional men x

John Shelby is one kinky motherfucker, and he’s definitely dominant in AND out of the bedroom. He adores rough, filthy sex, and loves seeing his cum splatters on your body, be it your belly, ass, tits, thighs, whatever. But what really makes him feral is seeing his cum seeping out from your cunt. Fuck, it gets him hard all over again, only this time he’ll fuck you through several orgasms, as even if he’s hard, it’ll be a while before he cums again. Not that you’re complaining obv. Definitely one to grab your cheeks and force you to look at him, telling his pretty girl that she’s gonna cum on his cock over and over, till he’s done with you, that his good girl can take it, can’t she?

——

Sirius black can be such a sub, and he’s definitely got a bratty streak to him. He’d DEFINITELY cum from eating you out, grinding his hips into the bed, rutting like a horny little puppy. Rather fitting really. His eyes would roll back so much, but when you do see his actual irises and pupils, his pupils are blown so wide they almost eclipse his irises completely. And his pale face is flushed the prettiest pink, a little sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, his black hair sticking to his face as he dives deeper into your cunt, hardly stopping breathe.

——

Aaron Hotchner is rather vanilla, given he and Hailey didn’t experiment much. Not that that means he’s bad at sex- I envisage him as someone who wants to make sure his girl finishes at least once or twice before he even thinks of his own release. But when you approach him, your face aflame and barely able to hold eye contact, about your filthy fantasies, he’s taken aback. But hearing that you want him to overpower you, to slap you around a little, to have complete control over your pleasure, you bet your ass he’s doing his research. Absolute consent king. And thus ensues a rather extensive regime of kink exploration, discovering what gets the two of you going.

[astoryshark]

Would you be able to write a Goku×Human Reader fic? Maybe some kind of meet-cute where Goku is introduced to the reader? You could also maybe have them meet as children. Tysm! ~blushinggoku

A new training partner - Son Goku x f! Human! Reader

This is my first Dragonball fic so bear with me! I hope I got Goku's character somewhat right :o

Enjoy! @blushinggoku

"Come on Krillin! Show me what you got"

"Of course! Don't underestimate me Goku!"

Son Goku and his long childhood friend Krillin are training together in an open, green field. Its far out in the wild since their training sessions can get very heated and this way, they can't disturb other people and or destroy people's properties. Son Goku, who recently won the martial arts tournament and saved earth from demon King Piccolo, is having the upper hand. His last fights made him a lot stronger and even though Krillin knows that he won't give in easily. He also has his pride as one of Master Roshi's students.

In one swift motion, Goku uses a mismove of Krillin to his advantage and sends him flying. However, it seems that the black-haired fighter has underestimated his own power since the distance grows and grows and doesn't seem to stop anytime soon. Goku's expression scrunches up "Sorry Krillin!" he shouts after him and gets going to see where he went.

Little did they know that there was somebody else who was enjoying the quietness of the nature and the big, open fields for their own training. A young woman focused on the movements of her kicks and punches, her body and mind moving as one. Her eyes lit up as she notices a foreign source of Ki coming closer to her location. Her eyes focus on the direction and before it can hit her, she catches the smaller man and holds him upside down on his ankle.

"W-Woah hey! Let me go!"

He sounded nervous, wriggling around in the woman's iron tight grip.

"Who are you and why did you try to attack me?"

She asks in a strong voice, glaring down at him. Krillin gulps.

"W-What? No No, this is a misunderstanding! I did not try anything! I was about to crash into you because I-”

Before he could explain himself, there was a second source of Ki coming closer. It was on a completely different level, making the woman feel a bit uneasy. Whatever it was, it was strong, but it did not feel hostile.

"Krillin? Are you okay? I didn't mean to throw ya away this hard!"

Goku catches up to his friend and as he sees the situation, he tilts his head in confusion.

"Whos that? Are ya training a new technique or something-?"

"No! Now help me, please!"

Krillin sounds desperate, the blood already getting into his head from hanging upside down for so long. The womans eyes widen a bit.

"Wait, who?"

Her e/c eyes look him up and down. His black spiky hair, the very well-trained physique, the orange Gi and the strong Ki that radiates from him. Now it clicks. She looks down at Krillin, his face started to get pale and his expression screams that he is not feeling good at all. She lets him down carefully and holds up her arms in defense.

"I deeply apologize! I thought your friend wanted to attack me!" she bows down, and her face is tainted in a light, embarrassed blush.

Goku processes her words and then smiles

“No worries! Krillin can take that” he answers with a chuckle.

His best friend lays on the ground, the blood slowly running back into his body

“Y-Yeah..absol..absolutely” he mumbles in a defeated voice.

The fighter stretches his hand out to the woman

“Names Goku by the way! Nice to meet ya!”

He introduces himself with a warm smile. Y/N takes a deep breath and takes his hand, shaking it with a firm grip

“Nice to meet you too, my name is Y/N. I actually heard a lot about you” she answers with a small chuckle.

“Oh really? hope it's nothing bad then!” he answers and then helps his best friend up from the ground.

Krillin shakes his head to regain focus and brushes some dust off his Gi, the smaller warrior looks up to his friend

“Thanks man. I think I was about to pass out” he mumbles the last part quietly to himself.

Y/N shakes her head

“No, no don't worry. I know you from the tournament to be exact. I watched you fight and have to admit that your skills are very impressive.” she answers, a small shy blush makes itself present on her cheeks. It's not that she only watched one fight, she watched all. His fighting style and lighthearted personality caught her interest quickly.

Goku smiles brightly at the compliment and his eyes light up, as he thinks back to the tournament

"It was an amazing experience! There were so many strong opponents to fight. Man..thinking about this makes me feel all pumped up!"

He says energized and Y/N can pick up on his Ki raising slightly, mimicking his excitement for a good fight. Goku then holds his chin, thinking for a moment

"Wait a minute"

He then points at his friend, "Krillin was flying quite fast since i threw him with a lot of force" , his finger moves over to Y/N who starts to get a bit uncomfortable "And you caught him! Means your reflexes are quite good"

Krillin's eyes widen at the statement, and he looks up to the woman

"He's right! Hey Y/N, are you a fighter by any chance?"

Y/N starts to sweat nervously and looks to the side

“A-Ah..uhm..yeah but like I-” she gets cut off by Goku's strong hands gripping her shoulders

“I knew it! Then come, join us in training!” he suggests excited, his dark pupils sparkle “This will get all of us stronger!

Krillin smiles and nods in agreement

"He's right, the more the merrier"

Y/N starts to blush at the sudden contact, her eyes wander over to his toned arms that are gripping her shoulders pleasantly firm. She snaps back to reality quickly, not wanting anyone to notice her nearly drooling over the fighter. She then looks back up into his puppy like eyes. How could she ever say no to his request?

“Okay okay, I'm in! But my level of skill doesn't match yours in the slightest so..I don't know if you guys really benefit from training with me” she answers a bit nervous, avoiding eye contact.

Goku smiles and squeezes her shoulders reassuringly before letting go. Y/N already misses the contact.

“Doesn't matter! Any kind of training will get us stronger so come on, let's get right into it”

Y/N nods and the three of them start to get into a fighting position. The woman is utterly nervous, her limbs shaking a bit. //I have to try my best! No way I will miss this opportunity//

Krillin does not like the thought to fight against a woman at first, but he gets into the mood quickly after seeing how hard Y/N tries and that she surely knows how to throw some good punches. Even against Goku.

Goku smiles brightly and encourages Y/N to try and show some more, hyping her up. He can feel how much potential is hidden inside of her. How she partially blocks her Ki out of nervousness and not believing in herself strong enough. He wants to change that.

After hours and hours of training, Y/N falls onto her knees. Her breathing is heavy, and her body drenched in sweat, an amazing feeling if she is honest with herself.

Goku sits down beside her and smiles “That was great! You are really tough” he compliments her, stretching his limbs to prevent any after-training cramps.

Y/N’s cheeks start to blush in a deep red which is not coming from the exhaustion. Hearing such a compliment from him, a fighter of his skill, is really making her heart race

“T-Thank you..It was a lot of fun to train with you guys” she answers with a warm smile.

Goku stretches his hand out to her and helps her up, giving her hand a light extra squeeze before letting go. He looks down to her

"There is a lot of potential hidden inside you, Y/N. I can feel it!"

Y/N looks questioning at him

"You're limiting yourself through your mind" he taps at her forehead softly "Stop questioning yourself and your abilities and start believing in them! It will help you grow in no time." he adds and smiles warmly at her.

Y/N eyes widen a bit, something about his words tickle her emotions in just the right way. Her chest feels all warm and fuzzy. She looks up to him, his buzzing, strong but gentle Ki radiating of off him. She needs to smile and nods.

"Thank you Goku, your words mean a lot. I will definitely work on that"

Goku grins and lays his arms behind his head lazily

"Im looking forwards to next time already!"

Y/N blinks a few times, a faint blush creeping up on her face again

"Next time?"

[gachagon]

I love it when characters who were previously incredibly pompous and egotistical realize that the pedestal they've placed themselves on is actually worthless given the current situation they're now in.

Kaiser is realizing now that his idea of what it takes to be on top, to be the best striker is wrong and that it's probably been wrong for a while. And that's really got to suck, because while Kaiser has accomplished a lot of great things, ultimately his goal pales in comparison to the people he now has to go up against. Isagi and the other Blue Locker's aren't just there to rise up the ranks slowly, this is a last man standing program and Kaiser isn't strong enough to stand on his own.

He had become a great player, but he's not the best player. And he needs to be better in order to even have that position of acclaim in the first place. I am reminded of what Isagi taunted him with earlier, calling him a "Naked Emperor/King" which is an obvious reference to the "Emperor's New Clothes".

In that short story, a king orders himself new clothing that outshines everyone else and so the court creates "Invisible Clothing that only he can see" for the King. The king accepts the clothes and "wears" them, and so to him he is wearing the finest cloak imaginable, but to everyone else he is just a naked man making a fool of himself.

In a way, Kaiser ended up being the naked emperor in that he only came to the realization that his past achievements weren't good enough to stay in the team until this very game with Isagi.

I really think that fear of losing everything he worked for was always holding him back from really going above and beyond as well, because while he does have the support of a partner to do passes for him and he's able to read the field accurately, he doesn't take chances that tougher opponents hand him.

His backstory as a thief really puts this into perspective too because thieves wait for the right moment to strike instead of going out into the open to steal. And just like a thief, everything they get is "unearned" because they just take it from other people. In a way, you could almost say Kaiser's position as the best and the king was unearned because he hadn't actually done what needed to be done in order to get to that level.

And that's why I think this makes him so upset when Ness rattles off all of the thing's he's done, because ultimately none of those things will really amount to anything if he can't keep control of this team and be the best among them. It won't matter if he's scored a goal in every match, or if he's gotten offers from top teams, his goal is to be better than everyone and right now some dude from a no name prefecture in Japan is wiping the floor with him, and easily.

You really gotta feel sorry for Ness too, because he thinks of himself as one of Kaiser's "accomplishments" in a way, but Kaiser literally doesn't care about him enough. He just see's Ness as a tool to use, someone who's easily replaceable and loyal like a dog.

My moot (@miyamiwu) made a really good observation about how Ness might just leave Kaiser soon if he doesn't keep playing in that magical way that captured Ness in the first place, and I think that's true now especially since Kaiser himself seems to also realize it. When he's thinking about all of the achievements he could potentially lose if he doesn't win this, Ness is one of them.

"I thought I was becoming human." Is so sad too because I think deep down he really did think that by being close to Ness that he was truly becoming a normal player, that he was on the fast track to achieving his goals. But because he doesn't really know what that goal is anymore, the rug has been pulled from under him now and he has to literally reevaluate what is probably years worth of self reflection.

I also think this chapter is Kaiser ditching the rose as a symbol of his ego because he's truly looking back on things and realizing that the object that really gave him solace wasn't that symbol of the impossible, but the soccer ball itself. He is coming to terms with the fact that without soccer, he doesn't have anything at all, and that it is the only reason he was even able to get this far or have the courage to fight back against his abusive shitty dad.

Instead of the rose tattoo being here, we see there's a new tattoo that's prominent now and it's in the shape of a crown. And rather than being in a place where he's most vulnerable (his neck), the tattoo is on his hand, which I think symbolizes how he is able to take his own freedom and by extension his own place as a king with his own two hands.

Kaiser's solitude is something he really needs to become the best, because if he can't do it alone, than he can't do it at all. He is clinging desperately to the things he has managed to gather throughout these years, including Ness' loyalty and he's so afraid of losing even one of those things that it's making him a worse player.

However, whether or not being totally alone is what he needs to heal as a person is another thing entirely, which is ultimately why I don't think Kaiser will ever beat Isagi and that if he does it'd actually be the worst ending for him. Throughout this entire manga, Kaiser comes off as a really calculated person who's always thinking ten steps ahead, but inside he is just a damaged kid who is using soccer as his one means of coping with the trauma he faced as child.

And that phrasing "I thought I was becoming human" really just makes me feel so sad for Kaiser, because to him if he doesn't have soccer he is less than human and has nothing to give back to the world. He has never allowed himself any time to just be a normal teenager and just make friends in a healthy way, and the one friend he does have might just up and leave if he's not playing in a groundbreaking way. He thinks so lowly of himself that he hinges his entire identity around how other people perceive his abilities in the game, and if he's not the best at the game, he surely can't matter that much as a player, no matter how much Ness tries to placate him with words about how he's "already done enough".

Ego Jinpachi said it as well after Nagi made his really good goal, that some people are content with just being average and "good" instead of being great. And that it's because they're content with where they are in life, that they never advance at all. The idea that they are totally fine in their current position makes them lose the drive they normally would have if they weren't still thinking about trying to get better.

And Blue Lock's philosophy hinges on the player wanting to always get better and better and beat the other players on the field. Being "good" is never enough, hell being "Great" isn't enough at times, you need to be the best forever. You need to make it so that dethroning you is an uphill battle.

[pluckyredhead]

I have fallen down a Fourth World rabbit hole (this is @ngoziu's fault) and am now reading everything DC has ever published with these characters, in order, as is my wont, and I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, so I'm going to start dumping them all here. Sorry.

Background if you have no idea what I'm talking about but want to read this post anyway (why?): in 1971, Jack Kirby left Marvel because he couldn't put up with Stan Lee any longer and came to DC, where they were like "Yes you can do anything you want" (this was a lie). He immediately began writing, drawing, and editing an incredibly ambitious epic that stretched over four simultaneously published books: Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen (we can mostly ignore this one), New Gods, Mister Miracle, and The Forever People. These books came to be known as Jack Kirby's Fourth World Tetralogy.

The books all center around the war between the utopian planet New Genesis, ruled by the benevolent Highfather, and the dystopian planet Apokalips, ruled by the evil Darkseid. At the heart of the narrative is "The Pact," aka The Cosmic Baby Swap. To ensure a (temporary) truce, Highfather and Darkseid traded sons when said children were very young - so Orion, Darkseid's son, is raised on New Genesis, and Scott Free, Highfather's son, is raised on Apokalips. Neither knows who their real father is until adulthood.

Orion grows up in a utopia, but tormented by his feelings of rage and otherness that he can't explain. Scott is raised in a torture orphanage, because that's just what happens on Apokalips, but eventually he escapes to Earth and becomes the escape artist Mister Miracle. The Cosmic Baby Swap begs what to me is the central question of the Fourth World, which is: what is the nature of good? Which boy will be a hero? The one born to good and raised by evil, or the one born to evil and raised by good?

TRICK QUESTION THEY'RE BOTH HEROES!!! GOOD IS MORE POWERFUL THAN EVIL! LOVE WINS AND FASCISM LOSES! This is so, so important to me and any version of these characters that doesn't understand the really not very complex symbolism here is invalid and kind of embarrassing for the writer (looking at you, Tom King).

Also Scott falls in love with and eventually marries Big Barda, one of Darkseid's fiercest warriors, who was born on Apokalips and raised on Apokalips and chooses good anyway. LOVE WINS AGAIN! BARDA TOPS HER TINY HUSBAND IN THE NAME OF PEACE AND COMPASSION!

Sadly DC canceled New Gods and Forever People after only 11 issues, which kind of killed Kirby's whole vision. Mister Miracle limped along until #18, but as a really pale shadow of itself. So we never really got the full scope of Kirby's original plans.

ANYWAY. That's the background. Now thoughts on the actual comics:

Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen: I love Jimmy, I love Superman, I love the Newsboy Legion, but this book feels very tangential to the whole Fourth World experiment and I think we can safely set it to the side. However, if you love the 90s Superboy series, I recommend dipping into this because it's the source material for a lot of Kon's worldbuilding (Cadmus, Dubbilex, clone Guardian, etc.).

The Forever People (1971): So I originally read all the Jack Kirby Fourth World stuff like...at least 15 years ago, when I was still relatively new to comics, and I'll be honest: I didn't get it. Kirby is sort of an acquired taste, and I didn't really have any context for what he was doing. I understood the metaphors, but I didn't get why people found the work appealing. And Forever People in particular was the book where I was like "Why. What is the point of this" the most.

Rereading it many years later, I find it to be a lot more moving and profound - like, the Happyland issue alone is a knockout. That said, Kirby is, uhhhh...not great at ensemble characterization without Lee, and the Forever People themselves are unforgivably bland. Default Guy! Big Guy! Black Guy! Girl! Kid! Props to Kirby for making it a not all-white group - and for introducing five out of seven of DC's first Black characters in the space of, like, two years - but it would have been nice if he gave them personalities, too.

New Gods (1971): This is Orion's book and the heart of the Fourth World. At its best, it's the pinnacle of "Makes no sense...compels me, though." Like, "Glory Boat?" I don't understand a single thing that happened in that comic but it's so fucking good. I just want to read thousands of words of comics scholars over the past 50 years going "????" in collective confused admiration.

Mister Miracle (1971): This was the book I was most invested in when I read the Fourth World years ago, because I already loved Scott and Barda from JLI, but now I think it's weaker than New Gods and arguably even than Forever People. Kirby doesn't seem as invested in going all in on Big Concepts here, and Scott escaping endless weird deathtraps is only compelling for so long. The later issues, after the other books were canceled and DC made Kirby pivot away from the Apokalips/New Genesis war, are nothing. But Scott and Barda (and Oberon and Shilo) are everything, so I guess it balances out. Anyway Scott clearly already knows a lot about Earth by the time he meets Oberon and Thaddeus Brown, so DC please feel free to hire me to write a Mister Miracle: Year One miniseries about Scott's arrival on Earth, thank you.

Okay, now for the post-Kirby (or really, intra-Kirby) stuff:

Mister Miracle (1977): This picks up the numbering from the Kirby series, running from #19-25, and was written by Steve Englehart and then Steve Gerber, and it sucks so bad. For three reasons, in escalating importance:

Riddled with continuity holes and factual errors that don't match what Kirby established. Himon is shown on New Genesis - how did he get there? Metron is depicted as subservient to Highfather when Kirby showed him as a neutral, independent agent. Etc.

The treatment of non-Scott characters is largely terrible. Oberon is written really condescendingly (Scott's like "Ride on my shoulders like you used to!" even though they definitely did not ever do that before, because Oberon is not a child). When Scott feels guilty that he's not actively fighting the war, Highfather's like "I don't want you to fight because I feel bad that I traded you to Darkseid, let Orion do it" as if that isn't the root of Orion's severe emotional trauma TOO. And worst of all is Barda, who is knocked out and captured in the first issue and spends pretty much the entire rest of the series unconscious, waiting for Scott to rescue her - except for the brief scene where she wakes up brainwashed, requiring Scott to beat the shit out of her. Lovely.

The series is reeeally fixated on the notion that Scott is a god, and extrapolates that to Scott deciding he's the messiah. Now, I'm not going to say that the Fourth World can't be used to explore Christian themes just because Kirby is Jewish, because Kirby was very definitely exploring biblical themes extensively and frankly I don't know enough about the Bible to say whether he was sticking religiously (ha) to the Old Testament. But I do think taking one of the central characters of a Jewish man's magnum opus and making him the messiah is, uh, pushing it. And there's no way to argue he's not a Christian messiah because, uh, he T-poses a lot in this series and Granny also specifically states that if Scott is the messiah, she'll find an anti-Christ to combat him (which...wouldn't that sort of by default be Orion? which just further proves that the idea of a messiah really doesn't work in the Fourth World framework). Anyway it's gross and I hate it.

New Gods (1977): I'm kind of using this as a catchall to cover all of Gerry Conway's New Gods work, which includes the actual 1977 New Gods series (which picks up the numbering from Kirby, so it's #12-19), the conclusion of the story in Adventure Comics, and the Justice League of America crossover with the Fourth World. (Also there's one issue of Super-Team Family where Lightray and Metron team up with the Flash to save Orion, who has grown really really big, but that doesn't fit with the rest of Conway's continuity so I guess we can ignore it.)

Anyway this stuff is not as infuriating as Mister Miracle, but it's also not...good. The central concept is that Darkseid has discovered that the Anti-Life Equation is contained within the brains of six humans, so Highfather sends six New Gods to protect said humans: Orion, Lightray, Metron (he doesn't work for you, Highfather), Forager (also does not work for you), Lonar, and Sensational Character Find of 1977, Jezebelle of the Fiery Eyes (Original Character Do Not Steal).

Mostly this series is frustrating because all the New Gods are wildly incompetent and fail completely at their tasks. Orion is dumbed down to The World's Most Basic Superhero (he has a big O on his chest now!). I spent the whole time yelling "HE CAN'T FLY, GERRY!" at the comics. Forager is lumped in with no mention of that whole thing where...he's a New God who was raised among the Bugs, who are being persecuted by the New Gods? I feel like that should be explained or at least addressed? (Presumably Kirby would have gotten around to it eventually.) Forager also should not be flying but here he does. I guess. Lonar flies too but mostly on his horse, which bothers me less for some reason, I'll accept a flying horse. (Also Lonar's human he's supposed to protect is Inuit and hoo boy is this comic racist. The poor guy wears a fur diaper the whole time and speaks a completely made up language.)

And then there's Jezebelle of the Fiery Eyes. Who is blue, for reasons that are never explained, and wears a bikini and fishnets because it's 1977, and mentions her fiery eyes (heat vision) every time she speaks. She's from Apokalips, but defected to New Genesis during battle. Which, like...I appreciate that Conway recognized that this team should have a female character, but what with Orion, Scott, Barda, and Inexplicably Present Himon, it feels like we have enough characters who have defected from Apokalips in some way? And it's just super weird that the ONLY female characters we have seen from New Genesis are Beautiful Dreamer of the Forever People (trapped in another dimension indefinitely) and Scott's dead mom. Like, what's the implication here? Heaven doesn't have women? Also, I know Conway was going for biblical names to match New Genesis and Izaya (he also introduces a Lucifar), but, like...Jezebelle? JEZEBELLE. Your only female New God and you named her "whore." Amazing.

And with that, we have covered the New Gods in the 70s (minus some Mister Miracle/Batman teamups). Next time: the 80s, and Kirby tries so so hard to kill Orion but DC won't let him.

[gaymakima]

rating different ozpins out of 10

There's a lot of them. Long post ahoy.

Volume 1: pale ass man. flings his students into Grimm-infested forests and does not give a FUCK. not actually listening to anyone half the time my autistic king. despite the limited animation, you look into this man's eyes and you can tell he's secretly a little shit (affectionate). 9/10

Volume 2: I was gonna put a screenshot of his face and talk about how much better the lighting is in this volume but I saw this on the wiki and this man has NO ASS. He has NO CAKE. the dilf caring mentor vibes this volume are off the charts yet i can't get over this shot. 4/10 the no ass really hurts him

Volume 3: Colourful lighting, soft gaze, blorbo burdened by the weight of his sins. Not so pale that it hurts to look at. His mischievous demeanour is gone in place of sad immortal old man vibes. A shame to see the silly go, but I love a man with flaws who tries his genuine best to do good. 8/10

Volume 5: This part of the OP was always so jarring to me. The silly has returned but they flattened him and it looks odd. Is he doing the :3 face? 2/10 for hiding it in profile.

Volume 6: The first Ozpin in Maya! Unfortunately, he has to contend with the original Ozma this episode, and sadly his one second of sad old man hours kind of gets outshined by fucking. everything his past incarnations go through. Nice to see him in model again though. 6/10 (Ozma is like. 10/10 btw)

Volume 9: this isn't even ozpin. -100000/10.

Chibi: This is peak. I don't even care anymore. I'll say it. RWBY chibi is the peak of rwby content and I'm tired of pretending it's not. this man is the embodiment of silly. he would :3 and he would have the decency to look at the camera when he does. if this oz ever met salem... okay he'd probably make things a lot worse but it would be really funny. 11/10

Ice Queendom: ∞/10 daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. daddy? sorry. da

This one render: what are you scheming about you shifty little fucker. this is the face of a man who has done something to mildly inconvenience you and he's waiting for you to realise it. gay ass smirk. i appreciate it for bringing back mischievous ozpin in the maya engine but there is something about this i do not trust. 6/10

(bonus) the exact same render but in this thumbnail with his ex wife: 9.5/10. Salem addition really brings out the best in this one. Ozlem in a romcom. He gets pegged and he's proud of it.

Volume 3 japanese poster: eh. it could be better. I don't sense the silly OR the sad old man OR the fuckable mentor in this one. 1/10.

Volume 6 poster: YEAARGHHH THATS WHAT I CALL ANGST, BABY!!!! 11/10!!!!

Viz manga: with this and ice queendom, the jp side of rwby understands how to make an ozpin that appeals to me, specifically. 20/10.

Playing card: the hand in his pocket. the other hand resting lazily on his cane like it's a fucking samurai sword. the slightly cocky smirk. this is Ozpin after spending a day with the Branwen Twins. a young raven and qrow saw this and thought he was the coolest fucking dude ever (he is not). was going to rank it a bit lower but due to my headcanon going straight to ozpin and bird twins I like it. 8/10

this shirt: i would comment more if i could see. 3/10?? he looks sad i think which is nice

DC Comics: PUT THAT FUCKING MOP HAIR BACK!!! -10/10!!! YOU GIVE QROW HIS HAIR GEL BACK RIGHT NOW MISTER

RWBY/JL: this is an imposter. his hair looks like fits on his head like lego figure hair. -2/10

conclusion: i want him to whimper.

[xoxodropletsneedsmorefanfics]

Soon to be Wedded | Jeremy King x Reader

Short-ish fic inspired by me wishing Jeremy could’ve brought JB as his date at Cove and MC’s wedding (I know it probably would’ve been too difficult, but still)

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE WEDDING DLC!!!

“Oooh, I can’t believe we’re really here. Look at this place!” You squeal in awe, admiring the wedding decorations combined with redwood trees. Jeremy follows closely behind you, his shoulder scrunched in show of his discomfort. “Mm, it’s nice…I guess.” He sighs, he glares at you when you nudge him with your elbow. “Ha! Wow, you’re actually giving out a compliment? Huh, you must like these guys a lot. I can’t wait to meet ‘em.” You tease.

Jeremy rolls his eyes and instinctively shoos your arm away from him with a groan. “…Why did I bring you along again?” He sighs “Becaaaaause, you’d be unable to handle a social setting as big as a wedding without me.” You state. “More like you were acting like us being apart for a weekend was the end of the world.” Jeremy scoffs, one side of his mouth turning upward into a smirk. You let out a soft hum in response, “But it is the end of the world!” You gasp.

“No it isn’t.” Jeremy says bluntly “It is! How can I be happy without my precious Jerebear somewhere nearby? You are my world!” You whine truthfully. Jeremy cringes, his pale cheeks burning red. “…Gross.” He groans, you only grin at his reaction as you approach the wedding planner. “Ah! You must be Jeremy. And is this your plus one?” Baxter asks with a polite smile, taking in the two of you.

“Yep.” Jeremy says dryly “I’m his girlfriend.” You add confidently. “You didn’t need to tell him that.” Jeremy sighs, staring at the ground. “After how hard I worked to keep this relationship going? I should make us wear T-shirts. Or, who knows, this wedding might be the push I need to get the ball rolling for our future wedding.” You snort, Jeremy just glares at you in annoyance. Baxter watches the two of you, his smile unwavering. “Well, if you ever need a wedding planner I’m available.” He tell you, “Please. Don’t encourage her,” Jeremy sighs, shifting uncomfortably with a blush “Can we take our seats now?” “Yes, of course. You two are seating over there, second row.” Baxter says, not wanting to make Jeremy more uncomfortable.

“Great. Come on.” Jeremy says “Go on, without me. I need to get Mr. Wedding Planner’s number-” Jeremy grabs you by the hand and drag you away from Baxter without another word. He knows you’ll put up less of a fight because him touching—let alone holding your hand is super rare.

……

“—Cove…thank you for always being there. I want to thank you for…everything.”

Jeremy watches the scene with a blank expression, only reacting when he hears a sniff beside him. He looks at you knowingly, “…Seriously? You don’t even know these people.” He sighs with a quiet voice as he turns his attention to you “I know. But they just seem so pure. It’s adorable.” You whisper back, tears pricking your eyes. Jeremy stares at you with a dumbfounded frown, but eventually force himself to return his gaze to the actual focus of the wedding.

…

Jeremy sips his drink, quietly listening to you ramble on about how nice the wedding was and how groovy it is to have the reception in an aquarium of all places. “I hope you’re taking notes, Jerebear. I’m hoping we have our wedding at the archery range.” You state, Jeremy frowns at the thought, “That’s awful…” He groans “You’re not gonna ask why?” You huff.

“I don’t need to know the reason. I already know it’s gonna be stupid, cheesy, and pointless…” Jeremy grumbles, but that doesn’t stop you from telling him anyway, “It’s because the archery range was where you first said you lov-” “Ugggggh.” Jeremy groans, dropping his head into his arm. “I should’ve left you at home…” He sighs, “Love you too, Jerebear~” You snicker, making the poor boy’s eyes widen even more than before. He sighs with a blush spreading all over his face.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees Cove and MC approaching. Jeremy sits up with an exaggerated sigh, eyeing the couple awkwardly, secretly hoping they didn’t hear any of this conversation. The pair greet the two of you with matching smiles of admiration and curiosity. Jeremy awkwardly stands to be closer to the couple and further from your flirting. Cove speaks first, “You came!” He says happily, his blue eyes lighting up. Jeremy’s tired pout remains, “Happy wedding, you insane people. Why did you invite me to this?” He asks.

You watch in amusement as MC smiles kindly, “Because we wanted you here. Thank you for coming. And thank you for actually bringing a plus one. We were hoping to either meet your girlfriend or Pran.” They chuckle. Jeremy shifts uncomfortably before MC pulls Jeremy into a hug. His shoulders tense and his eyes are wider than ever, “Let me go.” He hisses out, his cheeks becoming an intense red. MC smiles apologetically, “I’m sorry. Are you ok?” They asks. Once he calms down, Jeremy only sulks more, “Whateveeeer…” He sighs. Cove smiles, the two of you make eye contact. Suddenly his familiar smile drops into one of curiosity and amazement “O-oh! You’re Jeremy’s girlfriend, right?” He asks. “That’s right. I’m Jeremy’s other half,” You say with a toothy grin that Jeremy knows far too well “Glad to know he talks about me.”

“Yep, still forcing him to be happy?” MC asks jokingly, “Pfft! Yeah, it’s my favorite past time.” You laugh. Jeremy rolls his eyes, opting to pay attention to anything other than you and MC’s conversation. Cove turns to him joyfully, “Thanks so much for coming. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.” He states. Jeremy scoffs, “True. It would’ve been better.” “Well, it’s nice of you to want to come and share the suffering.” Cove chuckles, earning a smirk from Jeremy.

“Misery loves company.” He teases dryly, Jeremy raises an eyebrow at the sight of MC giving you a number. He sighs knowingly and shakes his head. Jeremy gazes over the wedding once again, taking in the reception. Cove soon joins you and MC in the rambling about your lives and relationships. “I guess this is one of the better functions I’ve been too.” Jeremy sighs. Despite his quiet voice, he catches everyone’s attention. “Better than our prom?” You ask, Jeremy rolls his eyes “Anything is better than that.” He smirks. “Scum. Heartless scum.” You huff.

Meanwhile, MC and Cove look at Jeremy in shock, “You’re saying something nice about our wedding?!” Cove squeaks out in surprise, the noise almost makes you laugh. “It’s not earth shattering.” Jeremy says “Pfft! Yeah, right. If I look outside, will pigs be flying.” You joke, Jeremy shoots an annoyed look your way. “I appreciate that, Jeremy.” MC says sweetly, Jeremy looks away in discomfort. A sharp gasp is heard a distance away.

“You guys are here too?! That’s so cool!”

You look over your shoulder to spot Shiloh approaching, Jeremy does the same—he frowns in pure disgust. “Shiloh? What the hell are you doing here?” You ask once he’s close enough, “Ah, right. Jeremy wouldn’t have told you. The three of us are childhood friends.” Shiloh says happily, he gestures to Cove and MC. “Huh, small world.” You say, Jeremy glares silently at Shiloh.

Shiloh stands in between you and Jeremy, “Hi.” He greets, now that he’s fully apart of the mini reunion, “Hello hello, Shiloh. Glad to see you’re still a suck up. How that’s working how for you now?” You hum. Jeremy responds before Shiloh does, “Couldn’t this have waited until that terrible ‘group reunion’ I’m certain we’re gonna have to go in six years or whatever?” Jeremy sighs. “What?!” You and Shiloh share disapproving shrieks, MC and Cove watch the scene with matching smiles.

“Come one! Once group mates, always group mates.” You whine “She’s right.” Shiloh unsurprisingly agrees with you, “We shouldn’t hold off for that. If there’s a chance to hang out, we’ve gotta take it!” He urges. Jeremy groans, “Of course that’s your perspective on things. Life is an endless series of disappointments.” He sighs through grit teeth. Cove smile drops into a look of concern, you wrap an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about Jerebear. He’s always like this. This is your wedding, focus on that happiness and ignore Mr. Grumpy.” You tell Cove confidently. Shiloh nods, “Yeah! And at least there’s free cake. That’ll be something, right?” He adds. Jeremy’s annoyance turns into shock, the two of you stare at Shiloh in surprise. He only chuckles and turns to Cove and MC, “Jeremy has a soft spot for baked goods. He’s probably excited about it.” He tells them. “Really?! I feel the same way!” Cove says happily.

You grin and raise a confused eyebrow, “How’d you figure that out?” You ask curiously. But again, Jeremy doesn’t give him a chance to answer, “Why do you remember that? We haven’t spoken in years. Shouldn’t you focus your efforts on remembering dumb things about her?” He groans gesturing to you. Shiloh giggles, “I’d never forget anything about either of you, Jeremy.” He states. Jeremy cringes and you laugh, “Yep. You’re definitely still Shiloh.” You say “Of course! Who else would I be?” Shiloh asks with a bright smile.

“Someone better maybe? Or at least someone less grating about how unpleasant they are.” Jeremy sighs, Shiloh’s chipper mood doesn’t fade, “Nope. I’m just me. The three of us should catch up! Let’s get drinks.” He says. Jeremy finally realizes your arm’s still around him and he shrugs you off. You pout, “That sounds like a terrible idea.” Jeremy sighs, he grabs your hand and nods goodbye to Cove and MC before he pulls you to the bar with Shiloh trailing eagerly behind. “Bye! Congratulations!” Shiloh shouts to the couple. The couple shouts goodbyes back.

…

You rest your head on your palm, watching Baxter announce the bouquet toss. “Oooh, Jeremy! You should join.” You giggle, elbowing him gently. Jeremy nudges you away from him “Uh, why would I do something as pointless as that?” He asks. “Because it’s fuuuuun! And you gotta get that bouquet! Fight for our future wedding!” You squeal. Jeremy cringes, “That’s a terrible reason…” He groans “Besides, it’s not even guaranteed I’ll catch it.”

You shake Jeremy and whine, “Just try! I’m just gonna keep bugging you until you do!” Jeremy glares at you, but ends up standing up. He stands on the outskirts of the already forming group, Jeremy ignores your cheers of support and begrudgingly holds his arms out. “Excellent. The bouquet toss begins—now!” Baxter announces. Everyone watches MC closely. MC fires a quick trick shot towards the crowd, many scramble to try to catch the bouquet of poppies, but the only person who remained still was the one to catch them.

Jeremy frowns miserably when the bouquet perfectly lands in his arms. He does his best to keep the bouquet as far as he can from his body. Jeremy looks over his shoulder to lock eyes with you, a wide grin is on your face. “Don’t you even start.” He says in disgust, you blow him a kiss and Jeremy cringes more..

“Stunning work from our winner: Jeremy!” Baxter chuckles into a mic. “Congratulations on your future wedding!” MC giggles, Jeremy glares at them while you enthusiastically shout back a “Thanks!” The other guest laugh and let out chuckles of their own. Jeremy miserably huffs and returns to his seat. “Pfft! I can’t wait to tell your parents the good news.” You tease, Jeremy rolls his eyes “I’m sure they won’t be happy to hear that I dumped you at someone else’s wedding.” He scoffs. You stick your tongue out at him and giggle.

…

Jeremy silently places the bouquet on the hotel’s dresser. He glances at you as you work to blow up the air mattress, it was the only way Jeremy was going to sleep in a hotel and he wasn’t going to change his mind. At least you were able to convince him to spring for a king size air mattress the two of you could share.

“…I’m glad I got to meet your other friends, Jerebear. It makes me happy to know there are other people who know how much of a treasure you are.” You coo, “Stop hanging out with my mom.” Jeremy sighs. “Never. She’s basically my future mother in law.” You snicker, you gently poke the air mattress, “It’s done.” You announce. You stretch your arms, “Who gets the shower first?” You ask, there’s only a brief moment of silence before you quickly add “Ooh, we should take one tog-” “No!” Jeremy said firmly.

“Come on! It’s not like it’d be the first time.” You huff, Jeremy removes his shoes and leaves them by his suit case. “It’s hard enough I have to use a dirty hotel shower. Having you join would definitely kill me.” He sighs, pulling out the blankets he brought, “I’m sure the showering together wouldn’t be the only hard part.” You joke, wiggling your eyebrows, Jeremy throws the blanket over your head. “You’re just mad I’m funny!” You laugh, Jeremy walks to the bathroom with a disgusted look. He shuts the door, the last thing he hears is your growing laughter.

“Together for life, Jerebear! In sickness in health! Ooh, that reminds me. I gotta text Pran the great news~”

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (43)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, angst, smut, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

She felt her heart pounding like crazy, her cheeks burning because of his confession. She couldn't believe what she had just heard.

I became fucking obsessed with you.

"I wondered if you were thinking of me or crying yourself to sleep at the realisation that you would become my wife. I fucked my hand for months thinking of you, of how you looked when I saw you for the first time. Wet, scared, pale, innocent. Mine." He whispered the last, and she drew in a loud breath, her fingers clenching tighter on his chest.

He thought of her.

He thought of her even before he knew her.

She felt her moist insides clench around nothing.

She trembled when she felt his nose run over the top of her head, his hand gently taking strands of hair from her face.

"You were pulsing with life, and I was completely dead, full of nothing. My heart was like a cold, damp cellar with no windows or doors." He said thoughtfully. She felt a squeeze in her heart, her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn't expected him to ever open up to her so much, to ever let her look so deeply into his dark heart.

"− Aemond −" She whispered in a trembling voice, but he continued.

"I took you because I knew you were afraid of me. I took you because you couldn’t and had to love me at the same time. I took you because I wanted to fucking devour you." He hissed, and she squealed loudly when she felt his teeth gripping tightly on the soft skin of her shoulder, his bite brutal and sure.

He let go of her and she grabbed the sore spot looking at him with shock and resentment, surprised at how wet she was, how involuntarily her hot walls throbbed around nothing. She saw a grin on his face, full of amusement and satisfaction.

He knew what she was thinking about.

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, and he slipped his hand into her hair. He pulled her suddenly, pressing his lips to hers in an intense, greedy kiss, causing pain to her and to himself, violating their barely healed lips. He pulled away from her and looked at her for a moment with misty eye, stroking her chin with his thumb.

"− so perfect for me −" He hummed low and she flushed, lowering her gaze, swallowing quietly.

She felt his warm breath on her face again, his forehead pressed against hers, and after a moment their lips found each other again in a soft, sticky kiss.

Afterwards, her husband had to send some letters to King's Landing, so she sat down in one of the chairs and pretended to read a book, actually escaping with her thoughts to somewhere else entirely.

Our father has illegitimate children.

Many.

She felt tears under her eyelids at that thought, the sting of disappointment and embarrassment in her guts. She knew that various lords prided themselves on having a bunch of their bastard children to which they did not publicly admit, but she silently hoped that her father was different.

Meanwhile, her half-brother or sister was in Harrenhal.

She felt like throwing up at the thought.

She wondered if she should speak with her father about it, confront him with her pain, but she thought that they were in the middle of a war and she couldn't distract him, make him focus more on what his daughter thought of him than what was happening on the battlefield.

The truth was that she herself did not have the strength for this confrontation.

She went to bed earlier than usual, turning her back on her husband, who was still working, once in a while one of the guards or commanders would come in to give him new informations.

She did not listen to these conversations, immersed in her own thoughts.

She finally heard her husband rise from his chair with a loud creak of wood, followed by his quiet footsteps and the sound of fabric being untied. A moment later, his warm, bare body was right beside hers, his wide hand on her womb exactly as it had been every night since he found out she was expecting his child.

The gesture filled her with tenderness and love for him.

She involuntarily placed her hand on his, running her fingers over his skin, feeling the lines of his veins under her fingertips. She heard him murmur with satisfaction at the gesture, his lips placing a soft, wet kiss on her neck.

She felt him lift himself slightly on his elbow, his free hand turning her so that she was lying next to him on her back. She pressed her lips together seeing his dark gaze, seeing what he wanted.

"I'm so tired… please." She whispered and he brushed her hair away from her cheek, looking at her with a calm look on his face.

"Will you let your husband kiss you between your thighs, sweet wife?" He asked quietly and she felt his question between her thighs, her insides, wet and swollen by his earlier words needed relieving. She pressed her lips together and nodded after a moment.

She heard him hum contentedly positioning himself between her legs, his hands lifting the material of her nightgown upwards in a light, slow motion, exposing her hips to him. She felt her heart begin to pound like mad in anticipation as his warm breath enveloped her puffy womanhood, his lips tentatively running over her sensitive skin.

She moaned softly, involuntarily spreading her legs wider in front of him, feeling the tip of his tongue tease her little pearl with each kiss, running over it willfully, making her whole body quiver with desire. She pressed her lips together, swallowing quietly, knowing he would torment her, knowing he would not give her quick fulfillment.

"− your husband will take care of you, my sweetest −" He whispered and she mewled, feeling his words deep inside her, her insides clenched around nothing demanding his further attention.

She slid her hand into his hair, stroking his head tenderly, her hips involuntarily pressed against his face looking for any source of friction.

Her breathing sped up and became more ragged as she felt his tongue begin to lazily circle around her bud, making her shudder with each of his strokes, a quiet, helpless moan escaping her lips.

She felt his face pressed against her womanhood, his hands clenched tightly on her thighs as his tongue tentatively slid inside her hot, thirsty core, the tip of his nose teasing her folds.

"− my sweet girl − so good to me −" He hummed, sliding his tongue into her again, even deeper, rubbing it against her wall with a sticky clicks.

She tilted her head back, panting all over in front of him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes clenched in pleasure, her insides pulsing greedily around nothing. Her hips began to push against his face impatiently, wanting to feel him deeper.

"− please −" She mumbled helplessly, knowing what he wanted.

He loved it when she begged, loved it when he drove her to the brink of insanity, only to take pity on her at the end and watch with satisfaction as she fell apart in front of him.

She felt him smirk at her words, but his hands only clenched tighter on her hips blocking any of her movements, the tip of his tongue sliding into her and licking her painfully slowly.

"− not yet − a good husband knows what’s best for his wife, doesn’t he? − if he says not yet, then not yet −" He murmured calmly ceasing his caresses for a moment only to lick her back with a protracted, intense flick of his tongue, from which a quiet, helpless sob erupted from her lips, her whole womanhood pulsing, begging him for fulfilment.

Already both her hands, not one, were in his hair, pulling him close, her thighs trembling in his embrace from an arousal that was reaching its zenith. She felt her head humming, heat spilling over her lower abdomen.

A helpless moan ripped from the depths of her throat, her body arched back like a string when her husband finally took pity on her, his tongue inside her began to accelerate, rubbing and licking her walls with an intensity and precision that took her breath away.

He knew her every sensitive spot intimately, and he knew what movement of his would make her experience wonderful pleasure.

"− just like that − look at you − just a little more and your husband will let you come, hm? − can you do that for me? −" He gasped between his caresses and she swallowed with difficulty, hearing his soft, approving tone of voice from which her walls pulsed greedily around his tongue. With the rest of her strong will, she tried from between her moans to extract any response.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled out with difficulty, and he purred low with satisfaction, his tongue forcing his way into her, with a loud, lewd clicks of her moisture.

She felt that she was close, that a few more of his licks and she would experience fulfilment.

She moaned in surprise, clenching her eyes and tilting her head back as she felt his flicks become faster and more intense, he was eating her as if he had been starving himself for the past weeks.

"− my good wife is about to come for me, isn’t she? − go on, come on my face, give your husband what he needs −" He exhaled, his finger began to intensely rub and tease the swollen area around her bud. She parted her lips feeling she couldn't take any more.

"− o-oh gods − Aemond − Aemond − Aemond −" She cried out wearily, panting heavily, her thighs quivering in his hands while a powerful orgasm swept through her body like a storm, waves of heat and tickling surging through her again and again.

She heard him sigh in contentment at her obedience and the sight before him, licking everything that flowed out of her while purring, teasing her throbbing, swollen womanhood with the tip of his nose. She wanted to push him away, moaning quietly, all sore sensitive, but his hands only clamped tighter on her hips.

"− sleep − your husband is going to spend all night between his wife’s thighs −" He murmured and she swallowed loudly, knowing he meant it.

She pressed her lips together as she felt his tongue and lips again returned to the soft, subtle caresses from the beginning.

"− tomorrow morning you will have a council meeting with the commanders, husband −" She mumbled, stroking his head, her thighs trembling before him still through what the previous fulfillment had done to her. "− you should rest −"

She heard him murmur lowly, not caring too much about her words, continuing his treatments between her thighs. She just sighed, knowing there was no point in objecting and decided to let him do what he wanted with her, to his immense satisfaction.

After her third fulfilment, she felt his caresses become gentler, as if he was falling asleep himself. He awoke her from her restless slumber when his tongue again forced his way between her folds, drawing a quiet, sleepy moan from her throat.

But then she felt him rise, his hand turning her so that she was lying on her stomach. She opened her eyes and rubbed them, unsure if she was dreaming or not, and drew in a quiet breath as she felt him push her hips against him.

Only a helpless, shocked moan escaped her throat when she felt his length suddenly fill her to the brim, hard and throbbing, demanding fulfilment.

"− sleep −" She heard only his throaty, sleepy voice, his hands on either side of her head, his hips moving back and forth inside her in smooth, sure thrusts with the loud slaps of his thighs against her buttocks.

Both of them involuntarily began to pant and moan, her insides oversensitive from his treatments clenching against his fat cock in panic, increasing his sensations.

"− fuck −" He hissed softly, speeding up his pace. She lifted and spread her knees higher allowing him to root into her deeper with her sweet moan of effort − she heard him groan low feeling it. She placed her hands on his palms that held her hips and he intertwined their fingers.

"− you'll never escape from me − you know that, don't you? −" He exhaled in a way that sent shivers down her spine, her lips parted involuntarily in a loud, surprised moan, his manhood pushing apart her fleshy, juice-sticky walls again and again, rubbing the spongy spot inside her.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled with difficulty, and he chuckled lowly, amused by her state, sighing with pleasure, his pushes slow, deep and precise, as if he was exploring how deep he could penetrate her body so as not to tear her apart at the same time.

"− good − now I'm going to tell you what's going to happen next −" He gasped, panting with her in turn, she felt their shared moisture running down her thighs, the sounds of two wet and sticky bodies slapping against each other made her nipples harden, her walls clenching against steadily again his erection.

"− I'm going to fill you to the brim with my seed, and then I'm going to do it again, and again −" He hissed out, his thrusts getting faster and more brutal, making her breathless. She pressed her lips together, swallowing loudly, feeling her swollen, fleshy insides pulsate greedily at his words. "− because I can − because I'm your husband − I'll have you as many times as I fucking want − am I wrong? −"

He asked, his hands tightened warningly on her hips.

"− n-no −" She mewled, moaning loudly, giving herself over completely to the sheer animal pleasure of two bodies combined in a total mess of moisture, grips and thrusts. She heard him sigh at her words, one of his hands clamped down on her hair, pressing her cheek against the bed sheets.

"− say it − say it, say it, say it −" He growled helplessly, his fat cock pulsing hard inside her, opening wide her slick folds again and again.

She knew he was on the verge of fulfilment and she knew what he needed to hear.

Ever since she'd confessed it to him, he'd only wanted to hear the same three words over and over again.

"− I love you −" She cried out, parting her lips wide, aroused by her own words, by the feelings she felt for this dark and disturbing man. "− g-gods, I love you so much −"

She heard his low, helpless groan and then felt his warmth spill deep inside her, his hand slipped between her thighs teasing her puffy bud, bringing her to fulfilment a moment later.

He finally laid on top of her, crushing her with the weight of his body, placing his hand over hers and intertwining their fingers, panting heavily with her. She felt his nose against her ear, his hot breath enveloping her face.

"I…fuck." He whispered, swallowing loudly, and she felt her heart squeeze.

She knew what he was trying to say.

She stroked her hand over his arm that was embracing her and kissed his sweaty skin, which was answered by his quiet sigh.

"Don't force yourself to say it. I didn't confess it to you to make you say the same words. You are showing me the enormity of your feelings in a way that any other woman in my position would dream of." She whispered tenderly and felt him freeze all over, his heart pounding hard in his chest pressed against her back.

"… did your father and brother… tell you this?" He asked uncertainly, and she felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he was asking her this not just because he was her husband and he was ashamed that she hadn't heard it from him.

That perhaps he had never heard it from his own parents and siblings.

Admittedly, Alicent seemed to be an affectionate mother sparing no warm gestures, however, she rarely said everything she thought and lavished words. She swallowed quietly at the thought.

"… yes. Royce less often, rather when I was crying to comfort me. However, our father often told us that he loved us. He called us his beloved bunch. He always said: two hawks and four doves." She said, smiling under her breath at this memory.

She felt her husband shift slightly, not wanting to burden her with his weight for too long, and lay down behind her, drawing her close, hugging her back to his chest. He grunted quietly, running his hand over her shoulder.

"What did he mean?" He asked finally, and she swallowed quietly.

This was the first time her husband had asked her with any depth of interest about her family and their relationship, and for some reason she felt joy at the thought.

"The four doves are my sisters. My mother used to call them that. Gentle and well-mannered, leading by example. She used to call me and Royce hawks because we kept disappearing from her sight and she couldn't keep up with us. She was furious with my brother for agreeing to take me into the forest with him on his expeditions. We pretended we were warriors fighting our father's battles." She said with a giggle, and her husband hummed under his breath.

She had the impression that he smiled too.

"What happened to your mother?" He asked uncertainly, squeezing her tighter as if he wanted to make sure he protected her from the pain the question might have caused her. She swallowed quietly and sighed at the memories that filled her head.

"Come here, both of you! Royce, how many times can I ask you?" Their mother shouted, her long, light hair tied back in a perfect, beautiful bun woven into braids, her gown with its buff sleeves rustling in the wind.

She was pale because it was chilly − it had been raining since morning, and the hunt would continue for a few more hours, so she additionally wore a sleeveless fur coat.

Both she and her brother ran up to her, a little sweaty from running, and she sighed at the sight of them. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw her sisters sitting at the wooden table, discussing about something with each other.

They rarely told her about girly things, recognising that she was too young and would not yet understand them. Their words made her uncomfortable, so she would always run to Royce, because he wanted to play with her.

"We were just looking for rabbits, Mother." Said Royce, as if that was the perfect explanation of why they looked the way they did. Their mother sighed heavily, clenching her eyes.

"I don't have the strength for you anymore. Come, at least eat something, you're soaked." She said, embrancing them with her arm, and they obediently followed her into their tent.

Their mother ordered the servants to bring platters of hot soup for her two children, and she herself sat down opposite them, cupping her forehead.

"Are you feeling unwell, mummy?" She asked quietly, wiggling her legs under the table, which did not reach the ground.

"I'm just tired. Your father promised me we'd return to Storm's End today." She said with a little resentment, clearly already knowing that the hunt had been extended and her husband would not keep his promised word.

She and Royce ate and watched as their mother slowly grew weaker and fainter.

Only when she collapsed to the ground and they ran to her they felt how hot she was.

Royce ran out into the rain and called the guards.

When Borros walked into the tent their mother was already being attended to by a maester. Before the children were ordered to leave she saw over her shoulder her father kneeling beside her mother, saying something to her in a trembling, low voice, his hand on her forehead. She saw his lips form the words.

"What happened?"

The next day they were allowed to visit their mother in the morning, but she was no longer conscious. She had never seen such a pale and grey person before, her skin showing droplets of sweat.

Their father sat beside her in his shirt and breeches stroking his jaw, his hands trembling as he looked at her, his red eyes puffy and swollen.

"I did this to her." He said to his younger brother, who stood over him and put a hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. "I promised her we'd be back sooner."

Cassandra sobbed loudly over her mother's bed. She was the only one who had inherited her beautiful fair hair, her talent for playing the harp and gentle tongue. What her father did not understand her mother admired and appreciated, making her daughter feel beautiful and valuable.

Despite her despair, everyone believed that she would still wake up, at least for a while.

However, this did not happen.

"During one of the hunts she fell ill. Everything was prolonged while we waited in the camp, it was cold and raining all around. She got a fever, fell asleep and didn't wake up again. My father blames himself for this because he promised her we would return to Storm's End sooner." She whispered, feeling a tightness in her throat at the memory.

Her husband swallowed quietly, stroking her arm up and down, thoughtful, and for a moment they lay in silence.

"Were you close with each other?" He asked at last, and she pressed her lips together. She sighed quietly.

"She couldn't understand me like my father did. I think now that I'm older, I understand her better and maybe now we would…" She said, but was unable to finish, her voice trapped in her throat. She pressed her lips together, a single, warm tear of regret ran down her cheek onto the bedding under her head.

When she was a child, her mother had seemed to her a dull, everything-forbidding woman who was incapable of enjoying life.

Now that she was married herself she understood that, with her father's impulsive nature, she had to be considerate and responsible, ensuring the safety of the whole family.

She had not known as a child how complicated the role of wife and mother was, how much one had to manoeuvre in the world of men to avoid being crushed.

Now she would have been able to appreciate her, would have loved to speak with her about her youth and her thoughts, asked her for advice.

But her mother was not there.

Her husband embraced her more tightly, pulling her out of her reverie, his lips placing gentle kisses on her neck, her jaw, her cheek.

"Where is she buried?" He asked, and she swallowed loudly, looking ahead.

"In the crypts in Storm's End." She whispered, seeing before her eyes a large stone tomb with a beautiful statue of a woman, but which did not even partially convey the uniqueness of her beauty when she was alive. Her husband hummed at her words.

"When the war is over, I would like to pay tribute to her in the crypts of your ancestors. To the woman who brought my beloved wife into this world."

_____

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