#Let us all rejoice in the Lord

[vigilantkilliforniakatholixxx]

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children.

Warnings: fluff all the way; canon divergence; long post.

( @dracaryxzs for you! One hopes you might like seeing Aegon happy here)

***

• How it all began…

You are his twin, his other half… What one feels the other feels it too. Naturally, as a result, bond came. Courtiers like to say how “wherever the Lord Aegon goes, Lady Y/N is after him like a loyal puppet.”

What they don’t understand is that you and him are two sides of the same coin, blood of dragon, despite the prince calling you his sun, to which he himself gravitates.

“I cannot not believe you are never bored whenever we are together”, says Aegon.

You both are blossoming into youth. You are the only one he trusts, the one he is naturally charmed to. But something about his age doesn’t let him admit there are feelings too.

“I am unlike any other”, you tell him in turn, a smile on your rosy lips. “We came together to this world, Aegon.”

He gives you a shy smile, lowering his gaze—you tamed him, like, it is said, your grandmother had tamed her husband, your grandsire, when they were both the same age.

Lively and so full of life, not even Aegon can deny you anything.

“Let us ride, shall we?”

And not waiting for a response, he takes you by the hand and in between giggles and chuckles the two of you go after your respective dragons.

Sunfyre has been enamored by Dreamfyre and as a result the female dragon has put some eggs. As soon as you are told this, you tell the object of your affections that:

“See, Egg? Evident signs that we are bonded right here”, and you show him the different coloured eggs.

Aegon smiles at you. How can you make him forget the scars of his troubled soul? How can you even sweep away grey clouds, making it seem that it is possible to find happiness?

When looking at your serenity, at how beaming you are before the eggs you cling yourself to, the prince sees himself in you.

You are the light of my world, Y/N.

As if you feel the tenderness his thought emanates, you turn your head at him and give him an egg.

“We are grandparents now, I’m afraid.”

That makes him cackle. A sound so rejoicing, full of life. Few could tell to have ever heard Lord Aegon laugh merrily.

“Too young for that. Come, Y/N!” And then turning to Sunfyre, Aegon is the image of a boy who finds love and happiness where at home such were taken from him.

You smile warmly when seeing the golden dragon almost smiling itself the moment he welcomes his rider.

A bond as strong as the one I have with my beloved.

Then you are distracted by nearly losing balance when Dreamfyre comes at you, resting her head against your face.

“Calm down, girl. I am not as heavy as you are”, you giggle, gently laying your head over the scales of your dragon, whom you claimed when you were ten years old. “Ready to fly high? To some adventures, eh?”

A sound comes from your dragon’s throat. It’s almost as if she speaks excitedly: “Aye, let us go! I’m ready for it!”, which only increases your good mood.

Now here you two are, flying synchronized, one being the extension of the other. Skies may have some clouds, but sun shines high with some warm breeze that announces summer.

“I suggest we could fly atop Dragonstone”, you tell Aegon over your shoulder. “There’s a spot no one goes there.”

“Rhaenyra is settled there with her children”, says Aegon with an unread expression.

You shrug your shoulders.

“So what? I’ve been there frequently and not once she scoffed me off. I doubt she ever knew I flew to this spot.”

And you flash him a mischievous smirk.

Aegon laughs in turn, realizing he’s unable to deny you anything. Flying as high as he could, there’s little need to tell Sunfyre where to go. As if the creature captured the rider’s thoughts, he flies exactly to where he wants… as does Dreamfyre.

It is almost as if both dragons suspect something may come up… even if you and Aegon don’t know that yet.

*

There is a lake in the midst of vast forests, where silence reigns and there is no sign of any living being. A few hills here and there separate the spot of the rest of Dragonstone.

“How did you come here?”, Aegon inquires you, intrigued by this unusual place. Hardly a man acostumed to wild life, his eyes scan these new surroundings with a mix of suspect and curiosity.

You are untying your hair and loosening your gown—you often ride Dreamfyre in your feast gowns, much to the Queen’s dismay— when you say:

“I don’t think I fit very well at court. I tend to flee whenever I can.”

Aegon is somewhat distracted by your curves, and how poorly hidden your curves are beneath the fabric you dress. He swallows hard, then says:

“We are betrothed. One day you’ll be queen.”

You flash him another of your typical mischievous smirks.

“When have I never performed my duties, brother?”

Aegon shakes his head, but he’s chuckling when he comes next to you.

“Well?”, you tilt your head and the prince seems to notice how handsome you look, wild and free—the way you are born to be. “Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

“Is that a challenge?”, he asks you in a whisper.

You like how he looks at you. Maybe this makes your nipples hard. And maybe this makes him burning inside.

“Perhaps.”

And without waiting for a response, you jump in. Aegon smirks, soon following you.

***

• Summer Children.

His kiss is indescribable. No words can do justice to the warmth his breath gives you, to the bliss it inspires you, to the affection it craves in you. Oh, where are the words when we need most?

Whispers at court regard you and Aegon as the “Baelon and Alyssa” of your age, perhaps two souls reincarnated. Whatever the truth, all you can think about is the taste of his lips against yours.

Not only that, there is more to inspire. As you are riding Dreamfyre in the absence of your lover—he’s been summoned by your father to attend the council—, summer breeze cannot cool down the heat in your heart. And you still recall that night.

Where no living being is found amidst corridors, when, for a moment of weakness, no guard lies awake; when unprotecting is at stake… Here he comes, visiting you.

Boldly so, his steps are silent—right under his demeanor there is a haunted boy, famine for affection, filled with desire to please… but above all, a very insecure man who needs to play pretend before all.

Even though you are not like any other, being in fact the only one who’s witnessed his fragility, he remains blunt in his manners.

Yet when the door opens… and you stand there in your line nightgown with your hair loose, his confidence dies.

“I feared you’d not come”, but there is nothing blunt or arrogant in how you welcome him; but rather tenderness from the moment he’s engulfed in your arms. “I missed you, Aegon. Too much I long for you.”

“My dear Y/Nickname…”, he buries his head against your neck and from the moment he inhales your scent, no pride is strong enough to resist the obvious. “In vain have I struggled to repress my sentiments for you.”

Hearing these words give you the reassurance you’ve been longing.

“Oh you took long enough, didn’t you? I’ve been kept in waiting, but it was worth it.”

One kiss and you are doomed. Aegon waits no longer, not anymore. He takes hold of your face and presses his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and slamming the door as he leads the way.

“You must promise, though”, you push him away gently, much to his frustration. But you need to be sure… just in case.

“Anything”, his voice comes out in a plea.

You raise your eyebrows and Aegon, though sensing what might be asked of, is willing to pay the price. He is not letting go of you.

“No more whoring. I am no woman of sharing”, you tell him seriously.

Aegon smiles warmly, but you spot relief behind his eyes. He grabs you by the waist and says:

“I am yours and yours alone, Y/N. We came out to this world together, didn’t we? So we are dying together as well.”

“That is some drama you put in there, love”, you smirk before clashing your lips against his.

That night you came to learn you loved riding your dragon and we are not talking about Dreamfyre.

*

Nine moons later, the results of you and Aegon’s indiscretion comes to the world with a very strong pair of lungs.

“Here comes a very strong prince”, so announces the midwife.

You are exhausted after almost 12 hours in labour, a puddle of sweat and blood, but from the moment you are told you delivered a boy, you beamed proudly:

“I performed my duty well.”

Aegon, in the meantime, is left waiting outside, pacing impatiently in the corridors.

“One wonders what witchcraft has Y/N used to keep you in this state”, muses Aemond in his unusual show of sense of humor.

The prince of Dragonstone doesn’t bother answering Aemond, rather limiting to shooting a glare. It’s when Princess Helaena comes with a smile on her lips.

“My brothers.”

“We salute you well, sister. But pray tell us the news soon: is Y/N well? How’s the child?”

“She is doing great, Aegon. She’s recovering and getting some rest. As for the child… congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy!”

Aegon is paled by the news and even Aemond gets somewhat concerned with his older brother, holding him by his elbows.

“Are you well?”

“A boy”, he mumbles. “Y/N gave us a boy.”

“Our line is safe”, Aemond agrees. Then turning at Helaena, he asks: “Has the name been chosen?”

“Well, Y/N wants a traditional name… so she decided to have the boy named after you, Aegon.”

No one had ever seen the prince Aegon this overjoyed. The way he smiles… who wouldn’t be captivated by this sight? Even Aemond smiles too at this sight. Of all the misadjusted family, at least two of them found happiness… though when Helaena looks at him, he’s not too far from it himself.

“I must see her!”

Ignoring Helaena’s advice that no man is allowed in these chambers, Aegon, tradition-breaker, storms inside, demanding to see you.

You have just left your privy quarters dressed in a line nightgown with your hair wet and recently brushed when he comes at you.

“Husband!”, you giggle quietly when you are engulfed by his strong arms. “You should wait for me. I am not churched yet and we must…”

“Fuck traditions. I wanted to see my wife”, says he, peppering your face with tender kisses before looking at you with the devotion of a lover. “Are you well?”

You cast him the most infatuated glance to him, locking your hands around his neck as if there were no witnesses in the room.

“I am, thank you. Nothing that I could not handle myself”, you assure him. “Aegon, I performed my duties. I gave you a son.”

“Even if it wasn’t, as long as the child is healthy and you are healthy too, nothing else matters”, he whispers in your ear.

The prince cannot state enough his relief in seeing you well and safe. By how he holds you close, it is as if he needs another reassurance that childbirth will not steal you of him.

Feeling his fears, you raise your chin and give him that blunt gaze that marks your lively personality which he’s familiar with.

“I have no intention in leaving you alone in this world, unless you choose another to be in my place.”

Aegon gives you a meaningful look before snorting and scoffing at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! How could you possibly consider I’d find a substitute for you? I thought you knew me better, woman.”

You both share a quiet laugh before kissing as if to seal an unspoken vow. Not too far from the scene is the Queen, with her father by her side.

“Who’d know this was coming?”, she sighs, content with the merry scene that rolls before her gaze. “I may have been deprived of happiness myself, but on the other hand… thankfully such a burden is not placed on the shoulders of mine own offspring.”

“Do not be so dramatic, Alicent. This match is as fruitful as yours was”, says Otto, nonchalantly like usual. “But at times even I admit that I can see Baelor and Alyssa once more.”

A struggle he keeps to himself, since Otto and Baelor never saw eye to eye. Leaving such personal haunting aside, eventually this summer prince also named Aegon is seen placed in the arms of his mother.

“He’s a lovely child”, murmurs Aegon, whose head is now resting over your shoulder. “I cannot stop looking away of his delicate features.”

“Perhaps you should hold him”, you suggest in a whisper since the regal baby is asleep in your arms.

“I do not wish to wake him up”, says your husband, though you may detect a degree of panic in his voice.

You find his concern adorable, respecting his time. This afternoon, you and him watch over your newly born soon in great delight of how your love produced a handsome baby.

“Our summer prince”, you beam at him.

Aegon shares a smile with you. He looks thrilled before kissing your forehead.

“I cannot believe I am his father.”

“A doting father as I’m sure you will be.”

At times he doubts it, but this is a shadow he is unwilling to cast in such a bright moment. All Aegon can say is:

“Thank you for believing in me.”

He does blush though when you kiss his cheek and tell him in turn:

“How could it be otherwise? As my other half, you shall burn as bright as any dragon, my sun and stars.”

***

Little Egg, as he is called, is getting every attention Aegon’s father never bother doting his son. Whilst you are breast feeding, just nine months later his birth, a baby girl whom you named Alysanne after your favourite ancestor, father and son are found together at the nunnery.

“Your mother told me she plans to take you and Dear Alys to fly our dragon. I am not discouraging her, but we should best wait for a litttle bit, uh?”, says the protective father whilst rocking his lively and often chuckling boy in his arms. “Oh so you think this is funny? Are you planning to take after your great-grandparents?”

Aegon is holding him still, playing with the boy when the moment is interrupted by a maid.

“Excuse me, sire. His lordship must be fed. And your lady wife has summoned you.”

“Very well”, he stands, with the prince in his arms. “Before I handle you my precious jewel, Lady H/N, I must be certain you have been fed well. After all, you are responsible for feeding my child.”

“Indeed, lord. I am healthy and robust from the day I started the service”, the woman says seriously.

“Good. I appreciate it”, he nods before kissing his son’s temple. When seeing he’s about to weep, Aegon softens: “Do not cry, my prince. This is not a farewell. I shall go back later, I assure you.”

Reluctantly, he parts, though he does wish to go back when hearing a cry. Aegon pauses at the door but when looking back, Lady H/N has taken little Egg inside the quarters.

*

“How is mine faire ladies?”, the soon to be king asks you the moment he steps inside.

“Looking better than you”, you giggle quietly. “What happened, love?”

“I had to leave him with those women”, Aegon grumbles.

“I know. I don’t like leaving him there either, but thanks to you I can only feed one child now”, you laugh quietly.

Alysanne, whose hair is as silver as her parents’s, makes noises and Aegon, now more confident in how handling babies, carefully holds her.

“If I remember well, you were climbing on me when I was trying to sleep just the day you were churched”, Aegon chuckles.

“You keep saying that to yourself”, you lean to kiss his cheek. “You have been blessed with a handsomeness that makes me difficult not to merrily engage in marital affairs.”

Again, your bluntness makes him blush, a deed only you could brag in succeed doing so. Aegon gives you a long, meaningful look.

“Watch your tongue, woman. You don’t know what you are saying.”

But his mischievous smirk tells you precisely otherwise. The connection you two share has never grown stronger…

***

• Midnight Sun.

Little Egg is barely three when Aegon takes him for a ride in Sunfyre and you take two year old Alysanne with you as you mount Dreamfyre. It’s late night and since this family is restless, there’s no obligation to stop them in doing so—as if any would do in other period of the day.

“Fly high, Dreamfyre”, you whisper the command in High Valyrian and the dragon doesn’t need much before taking impulse and… weeeee, you and your excited child finally get to the skies.

“Let us do this, S.”, Aegon tells his beautiful golden dragon, resting his face against the creature’s forehead. “Look, this is the son I told you about. He gets my name, and Gods hope that he takes after my best traits. Not that I have many, but…”

Sunfyre buffs as if saying: oh please, you may not be perfect, but you have great qualities! To which Aegon blushes and smiles.

“You are a great friend, Sunfyre.”

“Daddy”, says Little Egg. “Fly!”

“Calm down young man. Are you in a rush?”, Aegon chuckles at his demanding son.

“Mommy… flew.”

“Oh. She’s always in a rush that woman you call your mother. Let’s do it then.”

And soon Aegon’s smile would spread larger if possible as Sunfyre finally spreads his large wings and begins to fly, the reason why Little Egg is happy.

When they are finally getting higher, Aegon makes sure his son is enjoying it. He wants to create this memorable moment that shall reinforce the bond father and son has.

It’s working since little Egg turns his head to his father and says:

“Amazing!”

“Are you enjoying that, my boy?”

“Yes! More, more! Please!”

Aegon laughs happily and does as requested. They fly as high as possible before diving below to meet you and Alysanne. The scene makes the prince emotional. His wife is looking as beautiful as wild as the day he realized he loved you to an unbearable point.

Sensing his gaze, you turn your head to meet him. And feeling your feelings, Dreamfyre is instantly drawn to Sunfyre.

“How’s it going?”, you ask him, eyes sparkling with delight for making it possible an old dream where you and Aegon, together with children of your own, would fly with your respective dragons.

“Just the way you wanted”, so Aegon tells you as if he’s read your mind.

You and him exchanged loving gazes and sweet smiles, letting the dragons taking the reins of the situation.

Indeed, as your children beam, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre dance.

Such is the dance of the dragons.

**

The toddlers are snoring by the time you and Aegon land.

“They should sleep with us in bed this night”, he suggests you, as he passes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead.

“I agree”, and then you instantly pause before the door of the red keep. “Aegon… I would like to thank you.”

“What for?”, he asks you, intrigued.

“For giving me these lovely children, for being the partner I’ve always known you’d be. For being my other half.” You smile softly. “I’d die for you, I hope you know that. You deserve to be loved, to all that you are given.”

“Y/N…”, he’s surprised to hearing these words of you, even though Aegon never needed proof of how you felt for him.

You stroke his face, wiping away his tears. Both of you know that you only have each other, and yet it’s enough. Specially now you have children of your own.

Resting his forehead against yours, the prince closes his eyes and kisses you.

“Whatever our souls are made of…”

“…mine and yours are the same.”

***

• Epilogue.

Alysanne is fast asleep when she dreams of dragons. Dragons that fight, dragons that die, dragons that survive. In the midst of chaos, she runs after her father.

Where is he? She calls out his name only to find another who is not in his throne. She wakes up thus, unable to remember the usurper’s identity, a mere shadow. But it’s enough to scare the seven year old princess.

She leaves her privy chambers. It’s still dark, but she needs to be sure he’s there somehow. Alysanne runs barefoot to her parents’ chambers. She opens its door, holding her breath but praising the Gods there’s some fire in the fireplace.

She sees you’re sleeping next to your father, but when seeing he’s there…. what a relief. Yet, the princess is scared to go back to her chambers.

“Papa”, she pokes him. “Papa, wake up.”

Aegon groans lightly, but when seeing it’s his oldest daughter calling him, he only rubs his eyes and makes sure to sit properly, careful in not waking you up.

“Lys”, he calls her affectionately and is probably thankful for wearing some proper garments after early copulating with you. “What’s wrong?”

Alysanne quickly throws her arms around his neck.

“I am scared. I don’t want to lose you”, she sniffs.

Aegon rocks her in his arms, smiling quietly for doing so.

“You’re not losing me. Who told you this nonsense? Has Little Egg been teasing you again?”

“No. He’s been good, actually”, she tells him, holding tightly against his neck. “I had a nightmare.”

For some reason, this gives him shivers. But Aegon isn’t inclined to dig into this deeper.

“A nightmare is just a nightmare. Come. Do you want to sleep with mama and papa today?”

Alysanne smiles brightly. She then kisses his cheek just as you are waking up.

“What happened?”, you ask, worried. “Are you well, my dear Alys?”

“She had a nightmare”, Aegon tells you as if this doesn’t mean anything, but one exchange of glances tells you this isn’t anything. Yet neither should feed it. And you agree. “So I’m letting her sleep with us tonight.”

You nod discreetly before kissing your daughter’s forehead.

“Of course. Like the good old days uh?”

And you watch as Alysanne makes herself comfortable in between you and your husband. Aegon strokes her hair as you cover her.

“Do you think…?” Aegon leaves the question in the air.

“Let us leave to concern about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

Aegon agrees. But neither looks forward to go back to sleep. As he casts a fond gaze at the princess, you take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

“It’s going to be all right. Helaena is doing well with it.”

“I know. But…”

“And at the same time she’s not like Helaena”, you tell him. “Let us not confuse things. It’s going to be well.”

“I just worry. I do not wish…”

Aegon looks away, remembering the wounds of his neglect childhood. There’s little need to explain since you can feel what he feels.

“Aegon, my love. We are not like them”, you tell him firmly. As he looks at you, you stroke his hair and place a lock of his messy hair behind his ear. “We are not like our parents. We are better than them. I’d not say so if I believed otherwise. Just look at how Egg seeks to impress you, how Alysanne came after you tonight… or how our twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera often run after you.”

Aegon smiles quietly.

“How can you convince me that easily?”

“It’s the truth I speak. Besides… I have to tell you something”, and here you whisper. “I conceived again.”

“Oh how fertile we are!”, Aegon chuckles merrily.

You both kiss, before settling to lay down, careful now with your daughter fast asleep in between you. Shadows for once are pushed and in late night midnight sun comes to shine bright.

Oh these delights…

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Kinslayer

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell!reader (fem pronouns used)

Word count: 2k (she’s a baby)

cw: hurt, comfort, soft aemond, mentions of being naked? ANGST ANGST ANGST, the pov switches between aemond/third person and second person soo if you notice it going into “her” and “you”, it’s on purpose please don’t kill me.

a/n: I really wanted to make the little Drabble into a full fic soo here it is!! Not proofread. Let me know your thoughts!!!

Kinslayer.

That’s what they’ll call him. Rejoicing in celebration after Vhagar mercilessly attacked Arrax and Lucereys Velaryon. His nephew, his kin.

The cold had already seeped through his leather settled in his bones. He felt nothing but the chill of the air as he landed with Vhagar into the dragon pits. The roaring amber of the castle doing nothing to add even an ounce of warmth through him. His eyepatch wet and leaking its colour onto his scar- poorly made for a prince- it seared through him. He took it off immediately, throwing into one of the torches on the wall.

Servants rushed his side, trying to assist him in any way possible but he dismissed them with a stern look before walking towards the small council room. Gods be good, he wanted nothing more than to hide away in his chambers, away from everyone, away from peering eyes of the lords and councilmen, away from Alicent, from Aegon.

But near you. In his chambers where he could be Aemond. Not second son, not ‘The One Eyed Prince’. But only Aemond, your husband. He would take that title to his grave if he could, leaving all his other titles because those titles were given to him on a silver platter, he didn’t ask for them. However, he craved the title of being your husband.

Ever since you were kids. Aemond had taken a liking in sitting in the library with you and talking about history. Sneaking out and taking walks in the Red Keep or the gardens to distract himself from the political side of his life.

You- a simple Tyrell girl who came to Kings Landing when you were only two with your father, Lord Tyrell. Aemond only being three years old had taken a liking to you even when you were only capable of padding on your little feet across the castle. Getting to grow up in Kings landing with the prince and his siblings.

It wasn’t a shock to the realm when King Visereys announced your betrothal to the young prince when you were only eight. Having no idea what the prince held for you in his heart, but you knew he was not one to easily open up. And after what happened at Driftmark, it had taken you quite some time to walk his maze. He’d shut himself out to the rest of the world. Not meeting up in the library or in the courtyard for your usual routine.

So you took it upping yourself to knock on his door every morrow, and supper. Threatening to break in if he didn’t at least take the food into his chambers and eat it.

The first time you saw him after the unfortunate incident, you didn’t flinch. You didn’t scare away in a corner. You smiled at him, slowly approached him and gently ghosted your fingers over his new forming scar. His eye now replaced with a beautiful sapphire- your touch burned, but it burned with a feeling that he wished to experience a thousand times over.

The two children were found sound asleep in Aemond’s bed when the maesters came around to check on the princes health the next morning; wrapped around each other like dragons protecting their kin.

Even years later, he was grateful to have you. He wouldn’t tell it to anyone’s face but his actions always speak for him.

He always seeks you first in large gatherings. Following you like a guard dog wherever he’s in the castle and not away on Prince business across the seven kingdoms.

But today. It was different. You felt it as soon as you heard Vhagars roars through the air, crawling their way through the open window in your and Aemond’s chambers.

You rushed to the dragon pits carefully. The maids trying to assist you but you insisted on going by yourself only to find no one there but the dragons. Your husband nowhere to be seen.

You sighed, an eerie feeling brewing deeply in your gut as you walked back to your chambers and buried yourself in a cloak and settled onto the settee, hoping Aemond would show up.

He didn’t show up, much to your dismay. You had a hunch that he had probably made his way to the small council to report of his business at Storms end.

And so you waited while he spiralled.

…

Aegon looked…proud?

After breaking the news of what happened tonight on Storms End; the small council’s reaction were rather mixed. Alicent shook her head, getting up from her chair abruptly and making her way out of the room. Suddenly finding it suffocating.

His grandsire looked as though he was about to faint right that instant. Holding onto the armrest as he sighed in defeat.

The lords- your father being one of them, looked disappointed as ever. The death of a kin is never a way to settle for peace.

“You did well, brother.” Aegon speaks, the lords and the Hand turning their heads towards him with wide eyes. The death of a child and he did- well?

“I call for a celebration! A feast, tonight!” He declares, arms wide as he gets up from his chair and reached his brother at the end of the table in three long strides. Patting him on the back.

Aemond feels sick, grotesque. He hates this feeling.

He hasn’t uttered a word since his reporting, hasn’t met anyone’s eye and doesn’t want to either. He simply nods, fixing his head up yet not making eye contact and sternly walks away, exiting the room before running to a small corner to empty out his stomach’s content.

He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to. He was just…

Just what?

There was no simple explanation to why he acted tonight on Storm’s End. He was angry, furious even. But he, a man who is the perfect picture of composure, let his emotions get the worst of him. He was only trying to scare him with Vhagar, a dragon that chose him. He only wanted to show Lucereys how he felt that night on Driftmark when the boy stabbed his eye and left him to whither in his own blood. Vhagar chose him that night on Driftmark, a dragon known for its great size and strength all over the seven kingdoms chose the white haired boy after its rider’s death.

…

He doesn’t return to her, to you. The news of Lucereys must’ve reached you by now, or at least of the feast that Aegon has arranged for tonight.

He should be celebrating, with his brother- the king. But it feel wrong. So, here he is, standing in the corner of the Throne room with a chalice of wine. His mind going a thousand times faster.

Kinslayer.

Kinslayer

Kinslayer.

Kin-

Soft thumbs invaded his hands, plotting a coup and attacking their way into his palms, a finger, then another, weaving through his hand and taking over. His breathing stopped for just a second before he realised it was her, immediately feeling pints of blood shoot to his heart that thrummed erratically through his chest, he could feel the blood seep into his bones, replacing the chill of the rain he had experienced mere hours ago.

You had this effect on him, even after all these years. Of knowing you, through and through. Even the parts of you that are only meant for his eyes, you always managed to quietly make way for yourself in his heart. Not that his heart wasn’t laid out for you in a platter. He’d do it if you asked, rip his heart out and give it to you on a silver platter, it was yours to have ever since his third name day.

He focused back to you, not looking at you but rather feeling the ridges and lines of your palm that was connected to his. The way your thumb traced over his. Your other hand sneaking its way to his arm, up and down, up and down. A steady rhythm that he remembers and tries to match. He took a breath, then another. In and out- up and down. He tensed his feet, held by his leather boots, digging the heel into the concrete ground of the grand hall before your hand squeezed his bicep, once again pulling him back before he could drown in the cold noises of the feast.

He doesn’t say anything, or meet your eyes. Fearing what you might hold in them. Fear? Disappointment? Distaste? Does she see me as a monster now that I’ve hurt one of my own? One of her own?

You don’t. Unknown to him. You don’t know what happened exactly on Storms end, but seeing the way he wanted to be anywhere but here was a clear indication that your husband didn’t mean it. The fear in his eyes was buried deep but you saw it the moment your eyes lay on his tense back and ridged composure.

He never liked Lucereys, but he knows you did. There were only a few people in King’s Landing you truly despised. But oh the Sevens know how much you love those boys. The bastards only have the name Velaryon, yet they don’t carry even an ounce of resemblance to their supposed father. But you didn’t care, you never did.

You loved luceyres like a little brother. Even if you had little time to spend with the Velaryon boy, and Jace and Joeffrey. They were sweet to you. Having looked up to you as an older sister. And you loved them like your own, so when the news of Lucereys passes by you. You don’t think twice before running to find Aemond. He wouldn’t do that to you, right? He knew you love him, and the boys that were like brothers to you.

He never liked them, but he loves you. Gods, he loves you.

They don’t say anything to each other. Not for the rest of night. She keeps a hold of his hand, squeezing it once, pausing, then two and three. A secret language- a code.

I still love you. It dawned on him. Crashed through his chest and broke every bone in its wake.

This fucking war, you curse in your mind. If only Visereys hadn’t died such a death. If only he hadn’t named Aegon as King as his dying wish rather than announcing it at his first name day. If only Rhaenyra wasn’t named heir first.

If only. She knows wishing won’t do her good but the thoughts still linger in her mind like a plague.

She keeps a hold of his hand. Feeling the coldness that he carries, the warmth of her own hand travelling up his arm. Dragons blood in a Tyrell, he’d said once. That’s a rare sight. To which you dismissed as only having warm hands. But your hands had only became warm and dragon like after him. After having to carry his child.

A swollen belly of a princess. You were a sight for sore eyes. But the Gods had blessed you with this child- his child and you nurture them gracefully.

One hand on your belly and the other holding his, you both make your way to your chambers as the feast comes to a close, Aegon, once again, drunkly congratulates his brother for the up tenth time as he exists.

Not a single word has been said between the prince and the princess, yet they both find it more than comforting to not say a word because the heavy tension could be shattered with even a single sound.

As they enter their chamber, Aemond takes a deep- shaky breath. Knees buckling before he composes himself- not wanting to fall on his wife, not wanting to cause further damage.

You notice the way he’s staggering towards the bath. Quickly taking his leather soaked clothes off. He hadn’t changed, you note, it required him to come to the chambers. You walk to his side. Silently, he allows you to undress him, politely gesturing to the servants to bring hot water for his bath. Taking out his night garments for him before standing behind him as he settles into the warm bath.

You’re mothering him, something he’s only experienced with you and not his actual mother.

You quietly ask the servants to leave. Taking the wet rag and washing up the prince yourself. It’s an awkward move sitting on your knees while almost seven moons pregnant, but you don’t mind.

He doesn’t fight it, doesn’t try to meet your eyes. He lets you tear down all his walls and see him naked. Not like you hadn’t seen him naked before. But this- this is a level of vulnerability you haven’t seen in him since Driftmark.

You dress him up, brush his hair and take off his eyepatch and sapphire, noticing that it wasn’t the same one he wore on his way to Storms end.

He kisses her forehead that night, not a single word uttered even then, his lips lingering as he cradles her head. Ever so carefully, like she’s porcelain, breaking at any given moment. He hopes she can’t hear his screaming heart that threatens to burst as he pulls her into his chest.

Feeling the way her breathing becomes more shallow. It pains him to not be able to look at her. To look into her beautiful eyes, look at the bright smile that he wishes she wore. But he knows he can’t.

And you’re the cause of it, his mind screams.

The mother of his child lets her tears escape onto his chest. Silent sobs raking her body and his heart chips and eats him from the inside, not wanting him to see the next sunrise.

But he stays still, he stays because he knows he’s at fault. He stays still when her silent sobs become audible and he closes his eye to let her punch and claw at him- but she doesn’t. Instead she stays too. Her arms like ivy curling around him as he hugs her- squeezes her, once then again.

I’m sorry.

Anddd that is it!! I hope you guys liked it. I am a sucker for soft Aemond and his wife, so what better moment to let him be healthily venerable than this? They’re both a lil fucked up but who isn’t? Let me know what yall think!!

@delusionsofnostalgia ; since you liked the Drabble. This is for u <3

Random tags: @endless-ineffabilities @aemonds-sapphire @firebornfables

[dinogoofymutated]

SFW!Nightcrawler/GN!Reader - Part 1 - part 2 - Part 3

kdhbcjshbc I know I said I was gonna work on my Wolverine fic rn but I got sidetracked. This was originally going to be one long ass fic but since the first half ended up already over 4k works I decided to split it into two! It's basically a friends to lovers fic and I know the beginning is a bit of a jumpscare but they're both adults by the end of the fic I promise!! Edit: I totally forgot to add!! Another special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their help with german translations!

Tws: Mentions of animal cruelty in the circus. The ringleader is an asshole. I might have made Kurt's brother a bit of an asshole too sorry. Kurt's backstory is going to be kinda a combination of all the shit I've read/know so please be patient lol. I'll go back and add more tags if I think of any.

    You were sixteen when you first met Kurt Wagner, although, he went by Kurt Szardos back then. You had never been to the circus before, and you hadn’t really paid to be there anyway. The show had already started when your father had taken you into the tent, sitting you down in an absent seat near the front. You didn’t want to get in trouble, but he had assured you it was fine. He had business to attend to, and told you that his future employer had given his blessing for you to sit and watch as your father handled business. After all, the two of you were a combo deal, and if you were to be working for the circus, you might as well know just what you were getting yourself into.

    The circus tent was loud with laughter and the sounds of an awed crowd. It was a little overwhelming, to be honest. There were simply too many voices, too many lights- and yet when you finally set aside your grievances to try and enjoy the show, you still struggled.

    The monkeys were annoyed with their handler, and every shout towards the crowd was an insult. The lion was young, and still afraid he wouldn’t make the jump through that vicious ring of fire- still healing from the burns he earned by brushing against the flames during the last performance. The doves from the magician act were a bonded pair, rejoicing the time and attention they were being given in the spotlight- and yet the male was already dreading their moments after the show and the dark, dirty cage they would kept in. The female was trying her best to cheer him up. Every animal was unafraid to keep their voice down, and you had never heard animals speak so loudly before. Part of you wonders if it was simply because they were so used to being ignored, they had grown used to letting their voice free- speaking from the heart and yet always being unheard.

    You didn’t like this part of the circus much- and although the tricks these animals did were beautiful and amazing, you couldn’t manage to enjoy it like all the others around you did. You were frowning while all others were smiling and laughing so joyously- perhaps that was what drew him to you in the first place. 

    “And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present-” All but one of the spotlights have started to circle around the tent, the ringmaster standing completely within the only lingering light. “Our Flying Fiend… the Daredevil Demon… The one and only, Nightcrawler!” Every moving spotlight lands on a single man standing on one of the high beams. He’s smiling so brightly that you can see it from where you stand feet below him. He’s… strange. Elf-like ears, yellow eyes, and blue skin. A pointed tail sways eagerly behind him, and he takes a deep bow in front of you. His yellow eyes peer open as he does so, and for a moment, you swear he looks straight at you. You’re not entirely sure if he was wearing a costume or not anymore. 

    The performance starts out with one hell of a beginning. Every flip and jump is an incredible act of athleticism- and you find your eyes following Nightcrawler throughout every trick. Two other acrobats join the fray, and yet he’s the only one who catches your eye. At one point, they bring out these long swings- ones that sweep right above the audience with every swoop. There’s one swing for every side of the audience- and the acrobats switch with a dramatic flare every few swings. 

    On the very last switch, Nightcrawler is the one who swings over your seats. 

    He’s much more handsome up close, you realize, blushing even where you are now. You swear with every swing, he’s looking at you. It makes your heart flutter a bit, and on the very last swing of the night, he takes out a rose, pretending to throw it to multiple groups of screaming fans, before he swings again with a dramatic flair. Unlike the other times, he’s holding onto the swing with his feet and tail. He’s so close to the audience without touching a single hair on anyone's head- and then he gets to you.

    You could have sworn that time had slowed, no matter how quickly it happened. The two of you finally lock eyes, and his hand stretches out. The rose falls into your lap, the air whooshing by your face as he’s gone just as quickly. You pick up the flower, a genuine smile finally on your face, and you find that all the other voices of excitement around you have finally drowned out.

    That was the first and last time you had watched the show at Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. After that, you and your father were behind the scenes instead of in the stands. 

    It had been about a week and a half since you and your father had been walking to the circus to work. He knew every path and every road like the back of his hand, insisting the two of you walk instead of drive to save money on gas, and he just so happened to know a few shortcuts through the woods. Usually, you were able to rely on him to guide you, but today you woke up late. Your father had already left without you- which you’re not entirely sure wasn’t intentional. He did leave a note for you, giving you instructions on how to get there on your own. 

    Needless to say, that didn’t actually work out too well. A thirty to forty-five-minute walk had quickly turned into an hour, and then an hour in a half. You were trying your absolute best to follow the instructions, but this was hardly a cohesive path in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t exactly easy.

    You’re beginning to give up at this point, stumbling through the brush as you try to find the general direction you think you’re supposed to be going. Your feet have started to ache and blister, and you find yourself beginning to lose hope.

    “Hello!” If the sound of the voice hadn’t scared the shit out of you, the strange man hanging upside down from the branches of a wild Crab apple tree certainly did. You shriek in terror, your feet slipping as you fall back on your butt. You hold your hands over your heart as the strange acrobat from the circus jumps down in a panic, holding his even stranger hands out in front of him.

    “Oh- Es tut mir Leid! I am so sorry! I had not meant to startle you!” He says frantically, kneeling down to help you up in a very gentlemanly manner. You’re wide-eyed as you look at him, letting him help you up without a fuss. Up close and in broad daylight like this, it was very clear that he certainly was… Blue, to say the least.

    “I-it’s okay.” You stutter. He smiles warmly at you, tail swaying excitedly behind him, and it simply confirms to you that he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find some words. He blinks at you as you do so, patiently (if not obliviously) waiting for you to speak.

    “You’re from the circus, aren’t you?” Is what you finally land on, still a little startled from before. The acrobat nods eagerly.

    “I am. I'm happy that you remember me! I’ve been told I leave a bit of an impression.” He jokes, and you find yourself smiling again. He was charming, for someone so strange. “The farrier is your father, right?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You didn’t think that anyone had taken the time to notice you, your father’s shadow in every sense of the word. It makes you feel a little funny, but surely he didn’t remember you from that first performance, right? Maybe he’s just very observant of those who come in and out of the circus stables. 

    “Well, yes.” You affirm, starting to anxiously fiddle with your fingers. “I didn’t really expect you to know who I was, to be honest.” He lets out a happy chuckle at that.

    “Of course, I know! A face like yours is hard to forget.” He chirps, sending you a wink. “But I must say, You’re a bit far from the circus, Meine Freundin.” You make a bit of a grimace at that, and he sends you a questioning smile.

    “Yes, well… To be frankly honest, I’m a bit lost.” You admit, eyes locked solely on the ground, taking the time to notice the various fruits that had fallen from the tree and gone bad. You can see the acrobat’s tail swaying in your peripheral vision, and still feel his eyes on you. It makes you blush a little from embarrassment, a little flustered that you had become so lost.

    “I’ll gladly show you the way, I was just about to go back myself.” Your head snaps up to look at him in bewilderment at that, before you realize just how lucky you are to have found him out here. He picks up a basket of crab apples that you hadn’t noticed before, and you offer to carry it for him as a thanks for guiding you back. He won’t let you no matter how hard you try, certainly the first gentleman you’ve met in quite a while. He tells you that your profuse thanks is more than enough for him.

    The two of you get to talking while you make the long walk back to the circus, and he tells you about his mother, Margali Szardos, and how she had asked him to wander over this way to pick the fruit from the crab apple tree for her. She was fairly adamant about him doing so, telling him that it was of great importance, but he didn’t quite understand why fruit could be such a pressing matter. He’s very funny, and you find yourself greatly enjoying his company. The two of you feel like close friends already, and you hadn’t even realized that you didn’t even know his real name until you’ve already arrived at the plethora of brightly colored circus tents.

    “I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I ever asked for your name.” You say, the awkwardness of the question not even registering with how happy you are to simply be in his company. He sends you another dazzling smile before he holds his hand, offering it for you to shake.

    “I’m Kurt.” He tells you. You introduce yourself as well, happy to have made a new friend today. You hear someone calling your name from not too far away, and spot your father waving his hand at you, calling you over.

    “I have to go, but thank you so much for your help!” You say, once again thanking him adamantly.

    “Walking with you was lovely. I hope to see you more often.” Kurt says, right before you go. You can’t help but blush a little, unable to keep yourself from smiling widely. You couldn’t help it! He was just so handsome in both looks and personality, the strangeness of his skin color and three-fingered hands being something you easily begin to care less and less about.

    “Likewise.” You agree, almost completely flustered. Your father calls for you again, and you quickly say your goodbyes before you rush off to him. You find yourself in a rather good mood for the rest of the day, despite your sore and blistered feet from the long journey here.

    Many months flew by very fast while you and your father worked for the circus, and you and Kurt had grown very close. He visited you when he could sneak away from practice and performances, and although you were more concerned about him staying out of trouble, you began to appreciate the company beyond the way a simple friend would, finding yourself blushing and flustered while around him.

    A fact that hadn’t changed throughout your time there was the treatment of many of the animals. All of them had a grievance or problem of some sort, and it broke your heart to have to stand by without the ability to help them. In the eyes of the circus, you were just the Ferrier’s assistant, nothing more. At first, you were, in the very least. Some of the animal trainers had noticed how good you were with the horses, and how even the most skittish of the equine animals would calm around you and let you handle them without any trouble. Things like that don’t go unnoticed, and soon enough many of the animal handlers had heard about your “gift” with the live attractions. Part of this was due to your Father’s constant bragging about your special skill with animals, although you were the only one who knew the truth about it all. After a while, the frustrated animal trainers began to ask you to assist them with the other animals as well, noting how it hadn’t taken very long before they were at ease around you. The size of cages and the attitudes of the trainers were something you couldn’t change very much, but even if you could only help out with a few things here and there, you were happy- and the animals were too.

    Today, you were doing your best to handle an absolute disaster. 

    Tonight’s animal show was a new set, with lots of loud noises and the pops of fireworks launching far, far above the tops of the tallest tent. With so many new lights and colors, they should have known something was bound to go wrong- and boy, did it. The smallest pony in the show was a stunning Blue Roan mare named Bubbles- and unlike many of the other mares in the show, she was very skittish. Her trainers mostly knew to be careful around her, but that consideration slipped under the radar when it came to all the new changes. Her show went by relatively seamless, with only a few issues here and there- but it was enough to put her on edge. When the fireworks finale went off as she was being led out of the main tent, it was just her last straw.

    I don’t like them. I don’t like the loud noises. Bubbles is pacing anxiously in the back of her tiny stable, still having trouble settling down. Every bump or noise from outside and even the neighboring stables sends her spiraling again. You’re standing at the gate, giving her a cautious amount of room to pace and worry so that she doesn’t feel trapped by you. 

    “I know, Bubbles, It’s okay.” You whisper. You’re so concerned for her, and angry with her trainers, too. It makes your blood boil to remember how one of them had gotten frustrated with her tonight, eventually giving up on settling her completely and thrusting her reins at you, telling you to “take this stupid thing somewhere else!”. The lack of patience and understanding makes you rage, but you know you can’t say a thing if you want to keep this opportunity to work with the animals.

    Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so scared. I’ll do better, I promise. Bubbles says again. The words almost bring tears to your eyes, hurting for her. You hate seeing her so scared.

“Hey, hey. Easy, I’m not mad at you, I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?” You tell her, starting to slowly approach her as her pacing begins to slow. She whinnies once, huffing as she tries her best to calm herself down. Eventually, she begins to settle, letting you get close enough to reassuringly pet her nose and flank. She leans into the comforting touches, finally beginning to relax after being high-strung for so long. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, enjoying each other's company as you hear the sounds of the circus begin to dwindle and die.

     I’m sorry for all the trouble. Bubbles apologizes quietly.

    “You haven’t been any trouble, Bubbles, I promise.” You say soothingly. “Do you want to talk for a bit before I go?” She nods her head, and that’s all the answer you need.

    The two of you talk for a long, long while as you take off her tack and brush her down, pampering her as you ready her for bed. You talk about food, trainers, the new horseshoes she’s getting next week- anything at all. Even Kurt comes up in conversation, eventually.

    I like him. She says decisively. He sneaks me leftover apples. You can’t help but giggle at that, already having a hunch that he had been giving the horses treats while no one was looking. Not that you really mind, it was nice to know that they had someone other than you and your father looking out for them.

    “I agree. He’s very nice.” You say, smiling brightly. She noses you in response.

    I think he likes you, too. You instantly blush at her words, shaking your head at her with a flustered smile. You honestly doubted he saw you as much more of a friend, even if the two of you have had somewhat sensitive moments sometimes.

    “I really don't think-”

    “Guten Abend!” You can’t help but shriek at the greeting, knowing just who it was as you whip around in the stable, spotting Kurt leaning against the gate with a cheesy smile.

    “Kurt! You have got to stop scaring me like that!” You scold, throwing the dandy brush at him. He pretends to be wounded, holding a hand over the spot it hit him dramatically as he laughs.

    “I’m sorry. Seems I couldn’t help myself.” Kurt says, and you lightly slap his arm again for good measure when you can reach him, trying and failing to keep yourself from smiling at his antics.

    “You could have startled Bubbles. It took forever for me to get her settled after the show today!” You scold him again, smile not letting up for a second. Kurt smiles a little nervously at that before he looks behind you to see the completely unbothered Bubbles.

    He wouldn’t have- I saw him come in. She says. You wave her off discreetly. That’s not the point, Bubbles! But even without being able to understand her, Kurt seems to get the hint that she wasn’t even a tad bit bothered and jumps the gate with such ease you can’t help but be a little jealous of his athleticism. 

    “Then I’ll apologize to you too, Bubbles.” Kurt cooes, lavishing her forehead and muzzle with pets and kisses that she happily receives. You watch him with a smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You knew you were absolutely gone on him, this little crush of yours having developed into true and deep feelings of affection. But how could you not? Even watching him right now it’s clear to see the kindness and support he gives to every living thing regardless of status or species. That meant more to you than you think he might ever know.

    “How was it out there?” You ask eventually, leaning against the side of the stable.

    “So-so. The crowds have started to react less to our sets. Mother says that we’ll get better reactions if we change the performance a little.” Kurt shrugs, tail tucked tightly around his own waist- something you noticed he did every time he entered the stables so that he wouldn’t startle the horses with the snake-like limb. You frown, eyebrows furrowing at the news. You knew that they had been trying some new things for the animal shows, but the acrobatics had always been so incredible and immaculate. It’s strange to you that anyone would look on at that part of the show with a straight face.

    “And how does Ringmaster Getmann feel about that?” You ask. Bubbles huffs through her nose angrily at his name, and you join Kurt by her side, petting her shoulder. You can see that Kurt is frowning, not responding to your question as his eyes stay squarely on Bubbles. 

    “...Kurt?” You’re really worried for him now, knowing that the look on his face can only mean that nothing good will come of it.

    “It’s nothing for you to worry over.” Kurt responds after a minute. “He wants us to do riskier tricks, but Mother keeps telling him it’s not the best idea. He’s rather adamant about it though.” His voice is soft while he delivers the news, and it makes you wonder how on earth he’s not angry about the blatant disregard for both his and his adoptive siblings’ safety.

     I knew I had a good reason to hate that man! Bubbles speaks angrily as she flicks her tail, Kurt being the only reason she hadn’t bucked or stopped in frustration. Your worry begins to deepen as you think everything over.

    “I- You won’t get hurt, will you?” You ask, worry clearly spilling into your tone. “The animal injuries are already bad enough, but if he starts risking human lives-”

    “I’ll be fine, Schatz.” Kurt cuts you off, stepping away from Bubbles to take your hands in his own. The nickname had a tendency to make your heart flutter, but right now all you could feel was the anxiety of an impending disaster. “Please don’t worry for me.” He tells you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. You’re breath catches at the act, and when you look at him there's a fond, reassuring look on his face. Still, it did not ease your worries in the slightest. Kurt takes a step closer to you, his hand cupping your face now instead.

    “I can’t help it. I worry because I care.” You whisper. Kurt smiles softly at you, leaning in to rest his forehead against your own. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, reveling in the fond moment. Still, your lips tingled with how close the two of you are, eyes darting down to the shape of his lips as you ran your tongue across your own. Kurt’s pretty eyes don’t let the action go unnoticed. He begins to lean in to close the gap between the two of you, and your eyes flutter closed as he does so.

    “Kurt.” The voice startles the two of you, separating immediately. It’s Stephan, Kurt’s adoptive brother. He’s not only startled you and Kurt, but Bubbles too. She spooks in the tiny stables, rearing up before you immediately turn to her, doing your best to calm her down once again. She’s breathing a little hard, but she’s not pacing again, which was much better than before, although you were certainly peeved to have backtracked already.

   “You know you’re not supposed to linger around the stables after the show,” Stephan says to Kurt, who only frowns. The two had begun to form a rather strained relationship as of late, but neither of you would have expected him to go out of his way to catch Kurt like this. You glance back at them as you finish settling Bubbles, staying silent as the two of them share a look. Kurt’s tail sways a bit, and you can see Stephan roll his eyes at Kurt before he nods his head to the door and begins to leave. Kurt sighs deeply before he turns to you with a remorseful look.

    “I’ll see you soon- promise,” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You’re frowning, unable to help it at this point due to the moment being ruined. Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, and you smile a bit. He gives you another quiet goodbye before he jumps the gate again, and follows his brother out.

    You're left standing there with Bubbles, and despite Kurt’s promises, you have an uneasy feeling in your chest. You want to blame it on the disappointment of the night, but you can't help but wonder when you'd actually get to see him again.

[gotranting]

Currently replaying the Stark theme in the "All Must Choose" song from the finale and a short story appeared:

Imagine Y/N going with the Greybeards without saying anything to Cregan. She rides towards the march, joining them only after they were far enough from Winterfell - as the soldiers already knew the girl and her skill, they welcomed another pair of arms in the fight to come.

"Does he know?"

The commander asks as he steers her to the side, glad to see the girl he trained here with them.

"No, but he will soon enough."

"...We are marching to death lass. Not much of a chance of us returning."

She turns to look upon The North once more.

"Aye...I know."

Cregan found out when he came knocking at her door in the village. There was no answer, no smell of strange herbs, no mischievous smile he so loved to see. The door creaks open, freezing air being the only thing to greet him. The fire has been put out, and all the windows are sealed shut. It all leaves a foreboding feeling in him, as he begins to realize what she has done.

His thoughts become a reality when he notices a hastily scribbled note on the table.

"I love you" are the only words left on it.

Cregan's eyes become stormier each time they fall on her handwriting. He wanted her to say it for so long, but not like this.

The paper crumbles in his fist as he rushes to his steed, trying to follow any tracks in the snow. Knowing well it is far too late.

Her horse is the only one he finds near the river that leads further South.

Going after her means leaving his own people to die in the Winter. He cannot abandon them. And she would not turn back, no matter what he did.

She went to fight for him. For the North. For the Blacks. To aid her kinsmen, even if she dies trying.

His hand trembles as he brings the note to his lips, his gaze torn between South and The North.

May the Old Gods protect them.

Let her fight and win.

Let her come back to him alive.

Does he call her foolish upon her return, kissing every part of her bloodied face - refusing to let this stubborn, magnificent woman out of his arms. Do tears fall freely, as they murmur "I love you" to each other? Do the smallfolk rejoice for their Lord and future Lady of Winterfell, when they see how much care the young pair clearly holds for one another? And do they rush to wed under the Weirwood, not wanting to keep apart any longer? Cregan whispers to her that from now on, they fight together. For there are many battles to come. Ones they will face side by side.

2. Or does he hold on to her note, barely keeping himself standing for the sake of his own people, as the funeral pyres burn one by one. He tells her still - how much he loves her. His brave girl. He calls her foolish nevertheless. Only, Cregan wishes that she would reply. He crumbles down in the solitude of his own chambers. The note never leaves his side after that day. Rickon is his heir, he needs no more children. Not if they aren't hers as well. He wishes for no other wife, for the one he wanted is with the Old Gods now. He can still hear her in the wind, or when the ravens fly over him. Protecting them, as she always did. A thought that might bring him comfort one day. Now, he wishes that she were standing here with him.

[kyoukamybeloved]

Chuuya looked at his face, then broke out into laughter. “You really are the worst. Don't let your plan fail and kill us both or I'll kill you, Dazai.” Dazai laughed as well. “Sounds good. Let's go, Chuuya.”

soukoku webweaves: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8

creds:

normal people - Sally Rooney// I know the end - Phoebe Bridgers// Part II - Paramore// the song of Achilles - Madeline Miller// art by @taxolotl// bloodsport - Yves Olade// please stay - Lucy Dacus// the night we met - lord huron// unicorn - Angela Carter// art by @thornedarrow// I set it in stone - Venetta Octavia// panel from bsd: beast drawn by Sango Harukawa// He Held Radical Light: the Art of Faith, the Faith of Art - Christian Wiman// eat your young - Hozier// never love an anchor - the crane wives// spring, the apple trees at olema - Robert Hass// the notebook// art by @taxolotl// Joan Tierney// snow and dirty rain - Richard Siken// house of hunger - Alexis Henderson// the moon will sing - the crane wives// waiting room - Phoebe Bridgers// I had a dream about you - Richard Siken// art by @marrewis// phlebotomy, as told by the blood - Torrin A. Greathouse// art by @twilicidity// Cassandra - Christa Wolf// rejoice - Julien Baker// take me to church - Hozier// the encounter - Louise Gluck// art by @yomeiu// a garden, swallower - Lyric Hunter// alone with you in the ether - Olivie Blake// allies or enemies - the crane wives// like real people - Hozier// strawberry moon - Franny Choi// official bsd art by Sango Harukawa// until is started choking on our memories - Tina Tran// art from @/mizumoe_ on twitter// Pavana Reddy// art by @carrotkicks // Friedrich Nietzsche, from a letter to Mathilde Trampedach// cosmic hero - car seat headrest// born to die - Lana del Rey// Giovanni’s Room - James Baldwin//

consider this your halloween treat ;)

tagging lovers of this series (thank you sm for all your love) :

@philzokman @dinosaur-mayonnaise @amagami-hime @vivid-vices @bunglegaydogs @vinylbiohazard @underthetree845 @ghostsinacoat @lotus-reblogs @zamxii @themultifandomdisaster @whiteapplesandblackblood @i-eat-mold @gorotic @sigskk @pastel-paramour @the-gayest-sky-kid @galaxitic @shroombunnies @homuncvlus @sommmee @oatmilkbasic @ricelover888 @jacuzziwaters @thesunshinebard @evermorehypewoman

[janus-cadet]

Who's hyped for the 60th anniversary? I am. So, have another doctor-who-themed-tarot-card : the 10th Doctor (and the 14th, now, I guess!) as The Tower.

Can't say I'm super proud of that one, but eh. I tried. Now, why did I choose this card? Great question, imaginary person. Let me answer that below this lovely cut.

I love to use cards about change to illustrate the Doctor- and nothing spells more *change* than the Tower. When this card appears upright, you must expect the unexpected- a massive change that you will not be able to escape. For example, he will knock four times, and there is no changing that. You can stare sadly in the rain all you like, pull your best puppy dog eyes, the result will be the same. Change is here to tear things up, create chaos and destroy everything in its path- weither it would be in the form of an entire planet, a victorious Time Lord or a old, innocent ToyMaker, that is to be decided. This change will hit you when you'll feel safe and comfortable, a fire if clarity and insight, cuting through the lies you have been telling yourself- no, the laws of time are not yours, my dear, and no, you can't help everyone. This change is scary by essence, even if it proves itself necessary ; and Ten, more than the other, is the most reticent to it. Even if after the Tower experience, you are to learn from it, and hopefully grow stronger and wiser.

Reversed, the card suggests that you are undergoing a signifiant personal transformation. Yes, consultant, you are about to regenerate. Rejoice. Perhaps you'll be lucky enough to be ginger. You may be going through a existentiel crisis, because yes, you're probably the last of your species. At least, when your ex is not popping around, which is always such a surprise for you. YOU are the one creating the change, so you can step into a new and evolved version of yourself, even if this version is not blessed with the existence of eyebrows. You can also be trying to resist the change, Mister I-Don't-Wanna-Go, and delaying the necessary destruction. Yes, it's not fair. But it has to happen. Just know that if you continue to resist this change, it will force its way into your life even more.

So yeah. 10th Doctor, as The Tower. I have to admit- I like the french name better, for this one. It's called La Maison-Dieu, or The God-House. Fitting, for such a character, with his burning Tardis.

Only need to find one for 9th, 11th and 12th, now. Perhaps I'll also do the classics, I don't know.

And that's it for today! Hope you liked it. I sure did. As a last treat, here are all of the Doctor Who cards so far ! Funny how the three Masters were my first, and now, the 10th Doctor is my 30th.

[yazzzmints]

Duty and Sacrifice

[ Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Alys Rivers ]

[ Warnings: angsty af, bipanics, polyamorous, cuss words, death, blood, age gap, Aemond being a simp, future smut, (y/n) being done with everyone.

More will be added as the story progresses.]

Prologue: The birth of a Valeryon Princess 

Word Count: 978

Kings Landing 115 AC 

All they could hear was the screams and cries of Princess Rhaenyra as she gave birth to her first child. It had not been a year yet since she had wed ser Laenor and yet they have been blessed with an heir so soon. The King was overjoyed to welcome his first grandchild and the Sea Snake rejoiced at the welcoming of his legacy. As these two cheered for the future of their houses combined in the blood of the soon to be born babe. Laenor paced outside the chambers anxiously and the Princess Rhaenys was inside the chambers holding poor Rhaenyra's hand. Soon the babe came all bloody red and crying being taken out of the warmth of her mothers womb. 

At this point shouts of excitement were heard from the servants in the room and soon word ran through the keep.

“It's a girl your grace!” 

“oh, how lovely.”

“A new Princess has joined us!”

The babe was placed into her mothers arms and slowly started to calm. A sigh of relief could be heard from Rhaenys, she has known of her sons…preferences and never believed she would ever get to see a trueborn child of his. But to see the patches of white hair was enough to calm her nerves. 

Laenor rushed into the chambers to his wife's side. “A girl? I just heard” He looked at his daughter for the first time. “I wish to hold her as so-” the chamber doors were opened “The Queen wishes to see the babe, your majesty” a servant announced. “We shall go after the baby and mother are fine.” Rhaenys responded. The servant bowed their head “The Queen said at once. In the throne room.” 

“Help me dress,” Princess Rhaenyra said as she tried to get up from the bed. 

Servants began to do their work and both mother and son fumed at such harsh command, of course her cousin the King did not protest. He was a man after all, never to know the struggles of birth. It was not that surprising given that he slaughtered his wife for the sake of a male babe. 

As they travel the corridor from the private chambers to the grandeur of the throne room, Princess Rhaenys, Ser Laenor, and Princess Rhaenyra presented a united front, garnering sympathy from those they passed. Laenor, with a flair for not-so-subtle remarks, subtly criticized the Queen for summoning them so soon after Rhaenyra's childbirth. Their procession reached its crescendo as the imposing doors swung open, and the servants announced their entrance.

Within the throne room, King Viserys occupied the Iron Throne, flanked by Queen Alicent and Lord Corlys standing regally on the elevated dais. The room, surrounded by the dignified representatives of noble families from across Westeros, bespoke an atmosphere of political intrigue.

Upon closer inspection, it became apparent that the Queen's summons was not merely a routine gathering. Instead, it hinted at a calculated move—an assembly designed to spotlight Rhaenyra in her most vulnerable state or, perhaps, to cast doubt upon the legitimacy of her newborn. The air crackled with tension as the strategic machinations of the royal court unfolded, setting the stage for a pivotal moment in the intricate dance to come.

Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor stood in front of the throne room, bowed their heads and the King walked down the steps. 

"Congratulations, Step-Daughter. I've heard you've blessed the Realm with another Princess," remarked Queen Alicent, her tone carrying a blend of formality and subtle undertones.

King Viserys, his paternal pride evident, responded warmly, "My first grandchild, and hopefully the first of many. Let us have a look at her."

Rhaenyra gently presented her newborn to the King, a serene and beautiful infant adorned with the unmistakable white locks characteristic of their lineage. However, Queen Alicent's reaction was less than enthusiastic; a subtle scoff revealed her disappointment, as if she had anticipated different features in the babe. Lord Corlys, perceptive to the unspoken intentions behind the Queen's demeanor, understood the subtle politics at play. Despite the Queen's unexpressed desires for a male heir, Laenor had fulfilled his duty, and even if the newborn was a girl, she carried the esteemed Velaryon blood, a fact not lost on everyone in attendance. The room lingered with unspoken tensions, a delicate balance between the expectations of lineage and the reality of the present moment.

Viserys had taken the babe in his arms “Have you chosen a name yet?” 

“Yes father, (y/n) shall be her name” Rhaenyra told her father through gritted teeth, the pain finally getting to her. 

King Viserys walked back to the Iron throne and sat. “Today, my Daughter and Heir gave birth to her own Heir. She will one day sit this very throne years after my passing” a displeasing smile spread on Queen Alicents face “I present to all my granddaughter, Heir of my Heir. The Princess (y/n) Valeryon, future Heir of Dragonstone and future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Thunderous applause and cheers filled the air as Viserys directed his gaze downward, locking eyes with the newborn. Instead of the expected lilac hues inherited from her mother or himself, a mesmerizing spectacle unfolded. The infant's eyes weren't just ordinary; they shimmered with an enchanting blend of vibrant pinks and reds, featuring a captivating slit akin to the legendary dragon eyes woven into the tapestry of ancient Valyrian lore. In that profound moment, it wasn't merely a newborn gazing back at Viserys but the manifestation of a mythical legacy, a living testament that the blood of old Valyria was strong. The cheers from the onlookers resonated like echoes through time, and the Maesters, tasked with chronicling this historic event, would scribe that it marked the inaugural triumph of Team Black. Princess Rhaenyra, with grace and significance, had bestowed upon the realm a trueborn heir—an unequivocal dragon among the rest.

taglist [I hope this is how its done]

@snh96 @dahlias-and-marigolds @galactict3a @mandiiblanche @heavenly1927 @watercolorskyy @toodlesxcuddles @ellieabby

[A/N: sorry for posting this late af.

Also this will be a mix of book and show.

I have not check for full spelling and grammar.]

[mothiir]

made to be a devotee

cw: lorgar jerking it. that’s it that is the plot. for @moodymisty

—

—

It is not the first time that Lorgar has taken himself in hand while thinking of you, and it will not be the last. Lying on his austere bed, staring at the ceiling — after pointedly turning the statues of the Emperor to face the wall — he strokes himself root to tip, his shaft thickening eagerly.

He does this not because he wants to, but because he must. You are a good woman — kind, clever, bright-eyed and curious, and you speak with him about his books in a way that so few dare — and he will not dishonour you with his lust. When the time is right, when the crusade is done, he will take you as his wife in the sight of the Emperor, and then — and only then — will he bed you. He allows himself a moment to dwell on the glorious future: Monarchia, resplendent in gold, its people rejoicing at their lord’s nuptials; you, clad in white, your belly already starting to swell with child —

His forehead furrows a little. No, that’s not right: you cannot be pregnant until after the wedding. After. He alters his daydream minutely. Now you wear a dress of shimmering bronze, your pregnant belly testament to the exertions of your wedding night. It is the — anniversary? Or it is a celebration of his Father’s latest victory? It matters not. The point is you, holding his wrist as you parade before your people; or you, straddling his lap that night, your skin painted gold in candle light. My lord husband, you will say.

He strokes himself again, harder, as the image shifts a little, memory replacing fantasy. The last time he saw you — the incident that prompted this latest shameful session — you had been in the library, a book open on your lap. You were hunched over it, in a Astartes-sized chair, the noontime sun catching in your hair. The very point of your pink tongue had snuck out, moistening your finger before you turned a page.

Lorgar had executed a speedy strategic retreat. If he had stayed — oh if he had stayed. Well. He would have seated himself in the armchair, arranged you on his lap — far more comfortable for you that way. He would have replaced your thumb with his, and let you suckle on it, your cheeks hollowing as you peered up to him. You would like the taste of his skin, he’s certain. “There. Good girl.”

You’d like being called good. You are always so keen for approval, so desperate to please. So keen. He’d sneak in another finger, maybe, letting your lips stretch around them, drool slipping down towards his knuckles. He’d fuck your throat with his fingers first — preparing you, letting you get used to him —

And it wouldn’t cause you any shame, Lorgar thinks, starting to fuck his fist in earnest. No shame, because it isn’t sex, is it? He would still be able to take you as a virgin bride, like you deserved, pure as the driven snow, untainted by his baser feelings. All he would do is let you suck his fingers, just a little. Work your mouth open on them. Feel your sweet, blunt teeth against his flesh. Maybe he would reach a little deeper — into the wet channel of your throat, until you hiccuped around his digits. He would try to pull his hand free, but you would take his wrist. Suck harder. Pleading wordlessly to let him continue. Wanting him to take his pleasure with you, to abuse your throat, because he is your Primarch, your lord, your master —

Lorgar’s breath catches. He grasps himself harder, hips rolling up.

He would decline of course. He couldn’t possibly. Would never. Could never. You’re too good for it, too pure, you’re worth more — but you wouldn’t care. You’d say you want him even if it means being his whore.

He would be powerless to resist as you knelt before him —

Lorgar pauses, opens his eyes. Looks over at one of his desk chairs and does a few mental calculations. You probably wouldn’t have to kneel — merely bend over a little. And yet — no, the visual of you kneeling is far too pleasing to let go of. He adjusts the height of the library chair. There: now you have to kneel before the chair with uncommonly long legs.

Where was he? Yes: you’re sucking at his head now, using both of your tiny hands to milk him onto your tongue. Greedy for him, even though you can barely swallow an inch of his prick. You spit on his cock, then look somewhat embarrassed at your boldness. He urges you on —

Lorgar can feel his orgasm building. He squeezes the base of his prick, letting the scene change again: he has his face buried in your cunt, your thighs bracketing his face as he licks deeper into you, your mewling cries almost insensible save his name: Lorgar, Lorgar. A victory cry, a hymn, a call to worship. Lor-gar please, Lord Lorgar please —

The image changes one more time, almost against his will. He’s spilling inside you, your body clinging to his prick, warm and welcoming and tight and home —

He cums so hard he sees stars, his seed splashing up onto his abdomen. Still hazy with climax, he wishes you were there to lick him clean. And then the rose-gold dozy feeling wanes away, and he is sticky and alone and ashamed.

Not yet. But soon. Soon, he shall have you where you belong: his bride, in his bed, and under him.

[jackoshadows]

In the books:

White Harbor

“Was ever snow so black?” asked Lord Wyman. “Ramsay took Lord Hornwood’s lands by forcibly wedding his widow, then locked her in a tower and forgot her. It is said she ate her own fingers in her extremity…and the Lannister notion of king’s justice is to reward her killer with Ned Stark’s little girl.” - Davos, ADwD

Winterfell:

"The bride weeps," Lady Dustin said, as they made their way down, step by careful step. "Our little Lady Arya." ... What do you think passes through their heads when they hear the new bride weeping? Valiant Ned's precious little girl." ... "Lady Arya's sobs do us more harm than all of Lord Stannis's swords and spears. - The Turncloak, ADwD

The Boltons about the Northmen marching with Stannis:

“Even ruined and broken, Winterfell remains Lady Arya’s home. What better place to wed her, bed her, and stake your claim? Let Stannis march on us. He is too cautious to come to Barrowton…but he must come to Winterfell. His clansmen will not abandon the daughter of their precious Ned to such as you. - - Reek, ADwD

The northmen marching with Stannis:

"Winter is almost upon us, boy. And winter is death. I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned’s little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull. I want to lick it off my lips and die with the taste of it on my tongue." - The King's Prize, ADwD

Stannis to Lord Commander Jon Snow:

… more northmen coming in as word spreads of our victory. Fisherfolk, freeriders, hillmen, crofters from the deep of the wolfswood and villagers who fled their homes along the stony shore to escape the ironmen, survivors from the battle outside the gates of Winterfell, men once sworn to the Hornwoods, the Cerwyns, and the Tallharts. We are five thousand strong as I write, our numbers swelling every day. And word has come to us that Roose Bolton moves toward Winterfell with all his power, there to wed his bastard to your half sister. He must not be allowed to restore the castle to its former strength. We march against him. Arnolf Karstark and Mors Umber will join us. I will save your sister if I can, and find a better match for her than Ramsay Snow. You and your brothers must hold the Wall until I can return. - Jon, ADwD

Lord Commander Jon Snow on the Wall:

"He's to marry Arya Stark. My little sister." Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton's bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she'll fight him. "Your sister," Iron Emmett said, "how old is …" By now she'd be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. "I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you." Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton's throat as easily. - Jon, ADwD

You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … "I think we had best change the plan," Jon Snow said.

The roar was all he could have hoped for, the tumult so loud that the two old shields tumbled from the walls. Soren Shieldbreaker was on his feet, the Wanderer as well. Toregg the Tall, Brogg, Harle the Huntsman and Harle the Handsome both, Ygon Oldfather, Blind Doss, even the Great Walrus. I have my swords, thought Jon Snow, and we are coming for you, Bastard. - Jon, ADwD

Stannis sending Arya to Jon Snow for a debt owed

"Oh, and take the Stark girl with you. Deliver her to Lord Commander Snow on your way to Eastwatch." Stannis tapped the parchment that lay before him. "A true king pays his debts." Pay it, aye, thought Theon. Pay it with false coin. Jon Snow would see through the imposter at once. Lord Stark's sullen bastard had known Jeyne Poole, and he had always been fond of his little half-sister Arya. - Theon, TWoW

Even the traitors Karstark pretending like the others:

Lord Arnolf shoved himself up, a vulture rising from its prey. One spotted hand clutched at his son’s shoulder for support. “We’ll take (Winterfell) for the Ned and for his daughter.” - The Sacrifice, ADwD

Us reading A Dance for Dragons: The North is marching for Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, daughter of Ned Stark. Arya Stark is a pivotal character, a Key to the North around whom the North plot revolves. Various Northern factions are uniting behind her, the Lord Commander broke several oaths of neutrality and died trying to save her, two kings tried to save her.

Sansa stans/Jonsa shippers:

They hate it so much that the North plot revolves around Arya that the only thing they can do again and again is gaslight the fandom with this false equivalence that talking about Arya's importance to the North is making light of Jeyne's rape and abuse.

Also, Ramsay marries Arya Stark to give legitimacy to his stake over the North as Lord of Winterfell. Which is why Manderly wants Rickon because his claim supersedes Arya's. These morons pretending that discussing this plot is an insult to Arya while they hand over all of Arya's book themes, characterization and relationships to their fave is hilarious.

Like every other day there is a post of how Sansa is the MOST IMPORTANT because EVERYONE WANTS TO MARRY HER and she is the ONLY KEY TO THE NORTH - because the Lannisters, Tyrells and LF are all plotting to marry her off etc. The whole Jonsa shite is about Sansa deigning to make the poor bastard Jon legitimate by marrying him etc. Their world revolves around Sansa's marriage. But apparently discussing how Arya's marriage to Ramsay to hold the North is driving the Northern plot is insulting to Arya's character 🤣

When even the author has given all these interviews pointing out that replacing Jeyne with Sansa on the TV show changed the entire story because 'Fake Arya' is essential to what is happening in the North, these stans can only regurgitate this tired old nonsense and attack book readers for discussing what is actually in the books instead of making up headcanons on how their unqualified fave is the only candidate to be QITN

[muldermuse]

Naughty List (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

Gator comes round to reader’s house on Christmas Eve to get his gift.

This is in the two sinners world.

18+ only!! Smut ahead!!! Fic includes sub!Gator, dom!f!reader, oral (f recieving), mentions of wax play and piv sex, teasing language, use of restraints, dry humping, use of underwear as a gag, mentions of spanking with belt, panty kink????, brief aftercare. Reader fucking loves being mean to Gator hahaha I love her (me).

This is the completed version of this lil ficlet. And apologies, I was going to post it on Xmas day but I was too drunk and merry to edit and write. I’m not 100% with this one but it was fun fun fun. Like all the two sinners stuff is. Thank u all for reading and engaging with the series. ❤️ u all.

Ok seeing Gator on Christmas Day is out of the question. He’s spending the day with Glenda and Roy reciting their favourite psalms and thanking the lord for a bountiful Christmas. Glenda goes all out at Christmas, it’s obviously her favourite holiday and she constantly updates her Facebook with pictures of a content looking Roy and an exhausted looking Gator. No doubt, Glenda will have made him a piece of her artwork and bought him some novelty socks. He’ll smile at her and press a kiss to her cheek but you rejoice in the knowledge that thoughts of your Christmas Eve are running through his head. 

[sent at 13:30] You: got your Christmas present at my house. Door will be unlocked for when you finish at 6. I’ll be upstairs 🎁

[received at 13:42] Gator💩🐍: am i on the nice list?

[sent at 13:43] You: no. See you at 6 💋

***

His Christmas present is you- OBVIOUSLY. But it’s a version of you that Gator only really gets when he begs and even then, you don’t always give it him. He asks for this when you eat his ass or when he’s had a week of getting non stop shit from his daddy or Glenda. 

He wants you to turn him on that much his brain switches off.

He wants you to be in control and dominate him. 

You’re wearing a red lace set with garters and pointy red heels. It’s nearly pitch black by the time Gator arrives. You’ve left one lamp lit downstairs to guide him up but, honestly, he knows the layout of your home like the back of his hand. In the bedroom, your curtains are open with the twinkling of outdoor Christmas lights provide occasional flickers that illuminate your white linen bed sheets. A cinnamon candle is glowing by the door and nearly blows out when Gator enters as dramatic as ever. 

You’re sat at the end of the bed waiting for him and you smirk as you take in his expression- seemingly enthralled by your red look. 

“Crawl to me, baby” your voice is low and by the way Gator drops to his knees without hesitation and a look of relief on his face- you already know how tonight is going to go. 

He’s slow in his movement, keeping eye contact with you as he crawls towards your open legs and stopping a few inches from your panties. His eyes are fixed on the damp spot on your red underwear and his shuddering breaths are filling the room. You run your hands through his slicked back hair as you try not to recoil at the unnatural feeling of brushing your nails through hair gel. 

“Y’wanna taste?” He looks up at you with the most love sick eyes you’ve ever seen, he nods slowly as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip. You grip his hair in your hand as you push him into your panties, “make me cum with my panties still on baby- y’don’t deserve to taste properly just yet”. He groans as he pushes his face further into your pussy. He’s messy with it and you can feel his spit dripping down between your legs. It feels so good and the knowledge that he’s desperate to please you brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Take my panties off and make me cum on your tongue Gator, don’t let me down” you throw your head back on the bed as you feel Gator rip your panties down your legs and throw them across the room. He’s that desperate to make you cum he’s moaning into your pussy as he eats you out and you know he’s palming himself over his cargos. Your back arches as you clamp your thighs around Gator’s head and cry out as you cum. 

He’s pressing hot kisses to your thighs as your pussy clenches around nothing, you can feel your breathing begin to regulate again as you come down from your high. Your hand smoothes over his ruffled hair, “that was so good Gator. You did such a good job…good to know you can do something right”. His smile drops at your final sentence. On trembling legs you head over to your closest to get the box that Gator both wants and dreads. The box is full of sex toys, restraints (some crudely made and some from a hidden sex store in town) and things that you’ve seen at a local store and thought could be fun and sexy. Jax has contributed to the box, he bought some candles and teased you for hours by slowly dropping hot wax over your chest whilst fucking you softly. Gator was devastated when he found out and had begged you to do it to him the next day. You weren’t as gentle and he fucking loved it. 

You can hear him kicking off his boots and unzipping his cargos. 

“Did I tell you to get undressed?”

“No but uh- I thought…”

You softly kiss him, tasting the remnants of your cum on his plush lips. “Don’t think baby, I know how hard that can be for you. Just lie on the bed dressed how you are now- hands above your head”. Your voice is authoritative and Gator never wants to disappoint you when he’s in this headspace. 

As soon as his hands are placed at your headboard, you click pink fluffy handcuffs around them and make sure that they are tight. There’s something about the sight of your local Sheriff tied to your bed with novelty pink handcuffs that you love. You’ve taken a picture before and when you really want to fuck with Gator you’ll send it to him when you know he’s working with his daddy. You look at Gator, a silent check in to make sure he’s okay and he replies with a quick nod. He looks fucked out already, his lower face is red from the lace rubbing against it and his usually perfectly placed hair is disheveled. He looks desperate and that’s exactly how he wants it. You retrieve your panties from the floor and sit over Gators clothed cock. 

“D’you really think you’re on the nice list this year baby? Can you tell me anything nice you’ve done for me?” 

You slowly start to grind against his hard cock. When you look down, you can see a wet spot of his pre cum soaking through his cargos. You can feel him thrust up to try and get some friction to his achingly hard cock. You quickly rise so he gets nothing. 

You grip his cheeks so his lips purse out “this isn’t good boy behaviour, Gator”. You inch closer to his face, “if you move again without my permission, you can fucking crawl home to her and fuck your fist to thoughts of me like some pathetic fucking loser”.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’m f- I’m so sorry” he can’t think straight. His hands are in tight fists at the top of the bed and the sound of his breath filling the room. In and out. In and out. Probably trying to slow his breathing so he doesn’t cum when you start to grind down on him again. 

The red underwear is quickly pushed towards his face. “Can you smell my cum baby? You were so good at doing that. Y’want another taste?” He nods as the balled up fabric is shoved into his mouth. You watch in awe as his eyes roll back whilst the makeshift gag stifles his moan. Rotating your hips slowly, you start to rock against his hard cock. 

“Y’know when Jenson was round here a few nights ago. He left his belt, he was desperate to get his pants off as soon as he came in the door”. The fabric of Gator’s cargo is beginning to feel damp, you know it’s a mix of his pre cum and your arousal covering his work pants. It feels so good for you so you can imagine Gator’s getting close to cumming. His eyes are locked onto your body, watching your hips steadily swirl against him. “I was thinking I could use his belt on you, maybe could’ve bent you over the bed and used it to spank you”. His eyes screw shut and you can’t help the laugh that slips out. His body is stiff with tension underneath yours. 

“Gator,” you chide, voice high and mocking “are you gonna cum thinking about me using some guys belt on you? Thinkin’ about me punishing you?”. He thrusts up and rather than backing off him you press your pussy harder against him. Rocking your hips back and forth on his cock and hearing him whimper through the lace underwear in his mouth. You lower your lips to his ear as you order him in a whisper to “cum in your pants before I send you back to your girlfriend and daddy”. He thrusts one final time against you and moans loudly as his eyes screw shut. His hands are in tight fists as he pulls off from the headboard and breaks the handcuffs into two pieces. With his now free hand, he pulls your underwear out of his mouth with staggered breath. 

He’s cum in his pants; the already dark fabric now a darker colour around his crotch. His hands are covering his eyes with the broken restraints around his wrists like pink fluffy bracelets. You hear him curse under his breath as his breathing starts to normalise. He’s usually a bit vulnerable when you take control so you’re more affectionate than usual. Normally, after he cums you’re both in a hurry to leave, not wanting to stay in each others vicinity to enjoy the post orgasm bliss. It has to be different when it’s like this and you both silently know it. He sits up on the bed and you get in his lap again, slicking his hair back down and helping him get out of the now broken handcuffs. You press a soft kiss to his forehead and he grips your hip as a wordless thank you. 

Before he leaves, you hand him your panties with the smell of his spit and your orgasm still on the fabric. He smirks as he tucks them into his back pocket. 

On Christmas evening, he sends you a picture of his hard clock with your panties wrapped round it. It immediately turns you on as you can picture the scene. Glenda and Roy will be asleep in their rooms as Gator is fisting his cock with your underwear. His lip will be red from biting with him trying to keep his moans from slipping out. He’ll be thinking of you and it makes you feel fucking great. 

[received at 23:49] Gator🐍💩: [image attached]

[received at 23:49] Gator🐍💩: best Christmas present this year

[mindbreak]

人形 - Chapter 1

READ THE TAGS!!!! Word Count: 4.5K

ᴛᴡ: ɴᴏɴᴄᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ɢʀᴏᴏᴍɪɴɢ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴄᴜʟᴛ), ꜱᴀᴅɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴅᴀᴄʀʏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱQᴜɪɴᴛ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴜɴᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.

ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ᴏꜰ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ. ʜᴇʀ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ��ɪᴍ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ, ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ.

ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ, ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ.

ɴᴏ ᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ʙɪᴏ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ.

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The day had finally come. The pitter patter of panicked footsteps approaching your crimson door, as you lay in bed, nearly lifeless. You could just barely make out the sound of shrill voices as they each shouted amongst one another about whom was to blame for your bare form.

“She’s not even dressed! Do you think this is acceptable? Get her ready NOW!” You heard someone – a woman – screeching as she gazed down in dismay at your limp form. “Lord Sukuna would kill us ALL if we brought this as an offering.” She rambles on, pacing in a panic while three other ladies scramble to lift you up, dragging your body from the bed, over to the vanity, that sat adjacent to your bed.

You didn’t understand why they had chosen to drug you, this was your entire life’s purpose. You had been born in this village and, raised in this very temple. From the time you were conceived, your entire purpose was to someday be an offering to Lord Sukuna. This was an annual thing that dated back for centuries. The people of this village both worshipped Sukuna as a god and feared him as a devil, they believed that by offering him a virgin girl to devour each year that they would be safe and protected. Hence why you and many other girls were brought up here.

To an outsider, the process may have seemed horrendous – raising someone as cattle. But this was the norm in your village, and those considered food to the god Sukuna were seen as honorable – saviors even. The people would rejoice when their families were chosen as sacrifices, and you were no different. Yet and still, despite your complete compliance, the monks of this temple still thought it best that they slip a large dosage of opium in your tea, leaving you to feel dazed, and almost entirely immobile.

Still, you could not protest and wouldn’t even if you were capable.

This was just tradition, you supposed.

So instead, you relax and let yourself be propped up by one of the ladies while the others adorn your face in make-up and dress you in fine, expensive, silk fabrics. It’s almost relaxing, being pampered in such a way.

“You look so beautiful.” One lady compliments as she drags a brush with red lip-paint along the shape of your lips. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become...Lord Sukuna will surely be pleased. You’ll make one hell of a meal.” She whispers softly as she puts the finishing touches on your face.

You manage to pull your head out of the fog a bit to recognize the woman who’s standing before you.

“M...mot..moth..” You try to sit up, but your body feels far too heavy to move. She only smiles as she watches your attempts to struggle out of your drug-induced complacency.

“Shhh...don’t squirm too much my dear. You don’t want these nice young ladies to have to feed you anymore of that tea, do you?” Her tone is sweet, and you notice how she plasters a large smile across her face, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

You body immediately stills, not wanting to see your mother angry at you, especially not on your special day. She seems satisfied by your obedience and turns her attention back to the other girls, who were now standing off to the side, waiting for their next command.

“Take her to the shrine. She’s not nearly as graceful as last year’s sacrifice but this will have to do. It’s time....” She commands before turning away, leaving only the sound of her echoing footsteps behind as she marches out of the room, already yelling for everyone to get ready for the next stage of today.

The girls she left you with both glance at each other before looking at you. You’re not sure what exactly it is that they’re thinking but you can see in their eyes that it’s not something good. Though, your handmaidens have never really looked at you any other way...so it’s hard to have much to compare it to.

“I’m sorry..” one of them mutters, as they both hoist you up and begin carrying you out of the temple.

You’re confused at her sudden apology, was it for not properly dressing you? It wasn’t her fault. There’s a pause as if she’s waiting for you to respond, to say something or anything... but you do not reply, you couldn’t even if you wanted to.

For the first time in months, you’re hit with the burning light of the sun. You squint in dismay, flinching back as the sound of cheers echoes throughout the village and, as your vision starts to clear, you make out hundreds of people all gathered here before the temple cheering for you as you’re held there, limp and practically lifeless.

“People of Heiankyō Village! We shall be safe for yet another Winter, thanks to our chosen Savior!” The Emperor shouts, his booming voice carrying across the crowd, sending everyone into hopeful cheers and cries.

“Let us all rejoice! For tonight we shall all feast like beasts, in honor of our God Sukuna and his lovely Sacrifice!”

There are more cheers, and you watch through clouded vision as the sea of people slowly part, creating a path towards your destiny. The malevolent shrine.

For days you wandered from your village, towards the mountains. The girls had made sure to keep you nice and drugged, forcing more of the dizzying drug down your throat every chance they got. You had long lost the urge to protest, which was probably for the best as you neared the territory of Ryomen Sukuna.

You had heard tales about it, about the uneasy feeling people got when drawing near it, about the strong energy that radiated from the very columns of the building. You were warned in youth not to approach it, not until it was time, when you would be more ‘prepared’.

Still, despite all the warnings and teachings, nothing could have prepared you for the sensation that washed over your body the moment you got closer to what would soon be your end. Your body almost collapsed under the crushing weight of his presence. You hadn’t even seen him and yet, you could feel him everywhere. Like a shroud of darkness, crushing you. You know the others with you felt it too, as they whispered about turning back.

Still, you remained as compliant as possible, you were trained for this moment. It would be your honor to be devoured by him.

“What is this?”

Your blood runs cold in your body as a deep, ominous voice bellows above you. When had he even approached? You hadn’t heard footsteps. You feel the two women stiffen before immediately dropping on the ground, pulling you down with them into a formal bow.

“L- Lord Sukuna we’ve come to offer you this sacrifice in exchange for another year of peace...” one of the ladies says, her voice trembling violently while she grips onto your garments for dear life, as if you’ll somehow be the one to save her.

There is a long pause, and a sudden pain rips through you as Sukuna’s large hands grab at your hair, pulling you to meet the gaze of a beast. His four eyes focused in one your own, giving you the chance to see him up close. His face was strange to say the least, or perhaps you should say his faces as it seemed he had two. There were strange markings all along his face, arms – his multiple arms – and, body.

Was this Sukuna? He wasn’t at all how people described him in your village.

You avert your eyes, not daring to meet the ‘deities’ gaze again as he glosses over your features with a frown.

“Every year, you bring in worse and worse cattle to my Shrine.” He gripes, tightening his fist in your hair. “Do you honestly believe I would want spoiled meat?” He snaps, turning his gaze down at the two girls, trembling on the ground.

“P- please....we beg of you...” one girl sobs, the crushing weight of his aura far too much for her to bear.

“Pathetic...” he signed. You watch, completely limp, as he slides his fingers in a swiping motion, and in an instant, the girls head detaches from her body. The girl beside her jumps at that, screaming  and kicking frantically as her friends head rolls beside her.

Her reaction manages to pull a laugh out of him. The other girl was scrambling now, trying to get up while screaming for Sukuna to stay away.

“Now this is more like it. I love when they have a little fight in them...” he howled, laughing as he caught up with the screaming woman, dropping you on the ground to focus on his hunt. You could only watch as he caught up with her and granted her the same fate as her friend.

Surely you would be next...right?

“Uraume!” He called out, beckoning forth a short-haired person with crimson eyes. The boy didn’t seem to notice you, or maybe he didn’t seem to care, as he grabbed the two bodies without being asked and darted straight inside. “I will have them ready for you before Sundown...” is all he says as he waltzes back towards the temple with the two bodies in tow.

“What should we do with this one...” he says, finally turning to acknowledge your presence, a disgusted look on his face.

The King of Curses gaze finally fell back to you and he took a moment to take in your features again. The people of your village had really done their best to break you.  Your body was weak and frail, both from the drugs and the ‘diet’ the monks had kept you on. There were some fading scars here and there that peaked out from beneath you Kimono, ones from beatings long ago, when there was at least some kindling’s of a fire blooming in your soul. but only a few.  You had a hollow look in your eyes, almost as if you were fully void of emotion at all.

It was those damned eyes that pissed him off so much. Part of the fun was watching his ‘offerings’ shake in fear or fight for their life. He craved chaos. He wanted violent screams and bloodshed. Just what was he supposed to do with a broken toy?

He grimaced for a moment, and then a sudden idea flourished.

You watched as he slowly closed in on you, calm and ready for him to take your head – just as he had done the others. Your eyes flutter shut, and for a short second you smiled, ready to bask in deaths cold embrace.

But death never came. No, instead, you feel a sharp pain to your jaw as he grabbed it with his large hand, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. He forces you head left and right, inspecting you closely. “She’s not half bad to look at...” he utters, as if contemplating something important.

“I bet you had to endure a lot of pain...” He says, voice soft. If you hadn’t known any better, you may have assumed that he actually felt sorry for you. But you were far from naïve, and the soft tone of his voice didn’t match the sinister grin on his face or the dark gaze in his eyes.

“What is your name?” he asked, though it felt more like a command than a question.

“I-I’m..not sure..” you answer back, with a voice too weak from lack of use. The people back at the temple had never given you one. There was never a need to give one to girls with your fate. Still, the look of displeasure on your gods face was enough to make you try and come up with something – you try to think back, as far as you can, for something – anything.

“人形...the ladies that use to care for me...they called me 人形..”

There was a long silence, before Sukuna suddenly let out another resounding laugh. A puppet. A lifeless doll. Whether you knew what it meant or not, it amused him to no end, just how stupid you truly were to call yourself that.

Still, his amusement gave you just enough courage to speak, “Will you, please give me the honor of being your first meal tonight?” you asked, causing his unhinged laughter to come to a sudden halt. He seemed certain of something now.

“Alright, then doll. I think I know exactly what to do with you.” He says, finally loosening his grip on your jaw, giving you just a brief second of relief before you were suddenly hoisted up over his shoulder.

“That stupid look on your face disgusts me, I would never put something so sullied into my gut.” He answered back, as he carried you back to the temple. “But,” he interjects, “I’ll have more than enough fun, wiping that shit look from your face. Maybe after I see you with a different expression, I’ll change my mind.”

For a moment you’re uncertain. You don’t fight, because your body had been groomed into compliance, it’s drilled into your mind already to take whatever Sukuna gives...however you were supposed to be given death. It’s all you had ever dreamed of, your very purpose on this earth. And, if he didn’t accept you as food, then...what would this mean for your village?

“Take this one to the hot spring.” He says, to whom you now know to be ‘Uraume’. The boy only bows, as you’re dropped at his feet. “Once that make up is washed away, have her brought back to my chambers. I want to see how long she can keep that shit look on her face.” He says with a devilish grin, before heading back inside.

Once he’s gone, the once calm demeanor on Uraume warps into one of dismay as they glance over at you. For once, Uraume had not anticipated his actions. “You should consider yourself lucky that you’re not waste in his trashbin.” He griped, as he held onto the corpses of the two girls from before. “Come. I’ll prepare these before bathing you.” He added, seemingly irritated by your presence.

You hadn’t wanted to be alive anymore than what Uraume wanted you alive, but you kept that to yourself. Instead, you only answer back with a hollow, “Yes, Your Grace” and silently begin to follow behind him. You had called him that since he seemed rather close with Ryomen. However, Uraume was quick to correct you. “Just call me Uraume. I am not of any royal blood or background.” He said back, a little more friendly than before but, still hostile.

You sat quietly while submerged in the warm water of the hotspring, hugging your knees tightly as you wonder just what exactly Lord Sukuna has in store for you.

“You should do to take better care of yourself, if you plan to be a meal for Master Sukuna..” Uraume – whom you’ve now come to learn is a girl – rubs a sudsy towel up and down your back, scrubbing away all the dead skin and dirt from your travels.

“I’m sorry...” is all you say in response.

Despite your initial meeting, Uraume seemed to warm up to you quickly when she realized you had no intention of causing any trouble. You just wanted to be eaten, and she would be more than eager to kill you herself when the time came. Your interests aligned, and so whatever threat she had assumed you initially posed to her or Sukuna had dissipated.

Unlike Sukuna, she actually liked how obedient you were. You knew your place and that was enough to turn her hostile demeanor into a more tolerable one.

“Are you a virgin?” She asked, while cleaning you.

“I’ve been told so, yes.” You answer back. You hadn’t really known what a virgin was. However, you had never been informed on much of anything. You couldn’t read, nor write. Sacrifices didn’t have a need for any of those things.

That said – you definitely were one. The monks back at your temple had made sure of it, going so far as to tie your hands and feet to the frame of your bed the moment anyone suspected you of so much as touching yourself. Any desire for intimacy soon faded when it was met with harsh punishment.

Uraume seemed pleased with that answer, knowing that with your background, it was certain that it would indicate that you absolutely were.

“Good. Master Sukuna will like that..” she notes, causing you to form a smile of your own. “It’s my life’s purpose to please him..” is all you say in return, earning a hum in satisfaction from Uraume.

After your bath, you’re sprayed with some kind of mist – the scent reminding you of spider lilies, and dressed in a long silk-white robe with a cream white flower pattern stitched all over it. It was beautiful...but it felt wrong on you. All of this felt strangely wrong, truthfully.

Still, you follow Uraume along the corridors until your brought to a room with a bed. Your heart seems to stop, uneasy for only a moment as Uraume suddenly shoves you forward, causing you to tumble over onto the sheets.

“Sukuna will be here to see you after dinner. Play with him well so I can have you prepared on a plate by morning.” Is all she says, before closing the sliding door, and leaving you by yourself.

You weren’t sure what she meant by that, but if it meant living out your destiny you would do what needed to be done both for your village, and so you could die.

You wait patiently, twiddling with your thumbs, lost in thought about what exactly the King of Curses had in store for you. The question of your virginity still hanging above your head as you ponder on why that would matter. Surely, he just wanted to see you healthier, so you’d be tastier to eat...right?

It never dawns on you the true reason you’re here, not until the sliding doors open again, and standing before you is an eager Ryomen Sukuna, both sets of arms crossed as his robes loosely drape over his shoulders.

“Well...it would seem that there was a pretty face beneath all that make up.” He says, though you’re not sure if it’s a compliment to you or to himself.

Closing the door behind him, he strides towards you, kneeling just enough so you’d be in his reach before grabbing at your ankle, pulling your body closer to his own as he forces himself between your legs.

You try to keep still, to be as docile as possible but, that’s not the side of you Sukuna wants to see. You watch for a moment as he takes one of his hands, sliding them into his bottoms before pulling out – Oh. Oh.

You’re confused now, horrified even as you see two appendages get removed from his trousers. There’s something in you that’s telling you to run, but a stronger urge that’s keeping you utterly still. The constant fluctuating emotions makes your body start to tremble, but you’re doing your best to remain dutiful.

“Such a good pet.” He coos, while stroking himself nice and slow, giving you time to take it all in. “I can see you’re starting to get scared...but your body won’t let you run away from me, right?” he teases, while you try and brace yourself for whatever he’s got in store for you.

You watched in both horror and awe as the appendages grew in his hands, the two of them both as long as your forearm and as thick as a fist. As you watched him aim one of them directly at your core, your mind finally pieced together just what exactly his intentions were.

He planned on tainting you.

Sukuna seemed to key in on your realization and relished in the amusement of your expression as it finally made it’s way onto your face. However, nothing pleased him more than watching you try to twist away, your nails clawing at the sheets beneath you as you tried to plead with him to just kill you.

“Why are you screaming now?...” He asked, feigning ignorance as he started to push himself inside, not caring if you were ready to take him or not. “I haven’t even put it in yet..”

He starts to push his hips forward, forcing in the tip inside as he pushing his weight down to keep you in place.

Your teeth clench instantly, while you continue to claw at the sheets. He’s not gentle with you in the slightest as he keeps forcing his way in. It’s unbearable, the ache you feel as he practically rips you open for the first time.

“How cute, I can only get about half-way inside...” he practically purrs into your ear, his hips finally still.

You whine in response, the only sound you can make as you try and adjust to the sensation of being stretched so much. “Don’t worry, in due time,  you’ll be able to take all of me.” He jokes, as he pulls his hips back pulling himself all the way out before shoving himself back in. He repeats this movement several times, hitting against your cervix with every push of his hips.

You can’t hold back your scream this time, tears falling from your eyes as you apologize profusely, begging him to show you any mercy. Your hands fall to his pelvis as you make feeble attempts to push him away, but it does little to stop him. Instead to your horror and surprise, your met with a wet sensation, as you bare witness to his abdomen splitting open revealing a tongue and teeth. Your hand draws back quickly, and he almost laughs at the expression that’s written along your face.

“Why are you pulling away from my mouth? I thought you wanted to be eaten?” He taunts while fucking you, pushing in a little more of his cock than before.

He changes your positions, pulling you onto his lap, your chest pressed against his own. He uses two of his hands to bounce you on his length, while the others grope and grab at any part of you they can reach. The sensation is wet and warm. Like lips tracing all over your body, licking, biting, and marking you in every spot he touches.

It’s overwhelming, all the different sensations, and it’s not long before the pain twists and mixes in with pleasure, and the squelch of you pussy starts to echo in the room, harmonizing beautifully with your moans and screams.

One of those sneaky hands finds their way to your backside, and your back arches instantly when the wet feeling of a tongue starts to press against your rim. “M-Master Sukuna!” you cry out, your body trembling as he quickens his pace.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, body nearly limp from overstimulation but he doesn’t slow down.

You hear him growl in your ear, as he treats your frail body like it’s a cock sleeve, constantly trying to force himself deeper and deeper, while his fingers stretch you open in the back.

“Please, I don’t think I can take much more of thi- mmMPH!” He doesn’t let you talk, covering your mouth with one of his hands, forcing you silent with one of the strangest kisses you’ve ever imagined. You could almost gag at the feeling of his tongue as it squirmed around inside your mouth, licking around inside and forcing you to reciprocate.

His cock starts to twitch inside you, while your nails claw at his back. “You’re about to receive my seed, take it and be grateful...” he commands.

His movements get sloppy, and you wince as he starts fucking himself deeper, until finally the base of his cock is being pushed inside. The feeling is too much. However, you can only sit back and take it as he finally spurts his cum out inside of you. Loads of if pouring into you and spilling out. His hand gets removed from your lips and you let out a loud moan.

When his hips still, you finally relax and for a brief moment, you think it’s over. That is, until your hoisted up and forced down on his second dick.

“No... No Please! Master Sukuna, have mercy!” you beg while attempting to fight your way out of his hold.

He only chuckles at your feeble attempts, “What’s wrong? Isn’t it an honor to be used by your God?”

He’s mocking you, amused that you would sooner have him take your life than your virtue.

“You human’s are all the same. What would give you the right to tell me how to use my offering?” he tsks, shaking his head as he feigns annoyance...though you can sense he’s not kidding this time.

He waits for you to answer, but there was not one you could muster. He was completely right. It wasn’t your place to deny him, that’s what you were taught.

But for the first time since your childhood, you questioned whether what you were taught was fair. Why was this your destiny? It felt like years of emotions suppressed were overwhelming you all at once, spilling out of you like waves and fresh hot tears stained your cheeks.

Finally, it felt like a veil was lifted from your eyes as you peered back at the monster grinning psychotically in your face.

“Haha! Yes! This is exactly the reaction I was waiting for.” He shouted, fucking into you harder, faster, deeper.

“More! More! Show me more of that tragic face of yours!”

You sob, submerged in pain, pleasure, misery, and joy. Your god really had accepted you, but was that something that you ever wanted to begin with?

Too many sensations overtake you all at once, while he drills into you coming inside your cunt again..and again..and again.

The moon rises. The sun sets. Your body aches as he forces you to cream on both his cocks over and over and over. Until finally your body tired from exhaustion, and you woke up aching all over.

You were supposed to be food come morning, but morning was long gone and he hadn’t allowed you rest not even once.

You’re a shuddering mess when he’s done with you, practically numb from the waist down, and stuffed full of him, so much that you feel bloated. You had hoped that after all this, he would get bored and end you. That he’d put you out of your misery and send Uraume to collect your body.

But Uraume never came for you, and the darkness that enveloped you was only mental. When you had asked him what he intended to do with you, he had only brushed you off as if you had said something amusing.

When Uraume finally did come, she was not as friendly as before, roughly handling you as she dragged your limp body back to the hot spring to be cleaned again – per Sukuna’s Orders.

You had hoped she would be a light in the darkness but, as her face grimaced as you asked her “Is he going to kill me?..”  you knew that his ‘play time’ with you wasn’t over just yet.

In fact, this would only be the start of your own personal hell.

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Added note: I haven't written much of anything in what might be 4 or 5 years now, and English isn't my first language, so if there's any bad grammar or errors, please go easy on me.

[somebodys-nuisance]

Everybody shut up I'm talkin' about steambabies/how Zutara get together.

Okay, so, Katara and Zuko. They go together to go find Ursa, yeah? They start having feelings in the midst. Like, they're holed up in caves while traveling, start talking about their pasts some more, start talking about the fact that one of them took lightning for the other, then BOOM, they're makin' out. They find Ursa, she's been hiding out in and protected by a village of airbender-descended nonbenders in the Fire Nation. But, Zuko and Katara DON'T get together. They decide to just stay friends, mainly because, yes, Katara gets to know and care for Zuko, but ALSO gets to know the Fire Nation, and learns from Ursa what it's like to be with a member of Fire Nation royalty. So, Katara puts Zuko down gently, knowing she wants to be her own person and figure out her own life, and Zuko's really disappointed, but obviously he's understanding. She doesn't tell him why exactly, just that they're still so young and they have other things to worry about at the moment.

Zuko becomes Fire Lord, Katara spends her time traveling the world once again, bringing all the different forms of waterbending she's encountered together, becoming a true master and creating platforms for the different styles and cultures to become more well-known. She returns to the Southern Water Tribe for what she assumes will be quite a while to take on students, hang out with her new nieces and nephews (Sokka and Suki gettin' bizzay,) and plans to avoid suggestions that she should take on a position as ambassador to the Fire Nation. They've had a few different ambassadors since she turned the position down initially (definitely just because she wanted to finish her life's work of collecting and returning SWT artifacts and becoming a true master of waterbending and NOT because she kinda wanted to avoid somebody...) but now that she's back and all she's really doing is taking on students and occasionally babysitting, she should be able to eke out some time, yeah? And, it's been years. There shouldn't still be anything there, right?

Welp, they get back in contact, and it only takes maybe half a year before they're dating. In that six months, Katara sees the wonderful work Zuko has done in the Fire Nation, how much more accepting they seem to be, not just of her, but of other cultures as well. Zuko's reforms in schools have created such a better atmosphere, and Katara can tell that the Fire Nation is in a better place to accept her. And Zuko makes it clear that Katara's dreams and ambitions will still be at the forefront in her life: although she'll have political sway, she won't have the same responsibilities to specifically the Fire Nation as Zuko does as Fire Lord. So, they date, and the Fire Nation is primarily supportive (Katara has been taught in schools as being part of the group that freed the Fire Nation from the grips of nationalism and fascism, and although there is still a group of Ozai Supporters, they are a much smaller and quieter group now,) and eventually, Katara and Zuko get married. Fire Lord Zuko is, of course, entirely devoted to his people and to enacting ongoing reparations for a hundred years of pain and sorrow caused by his ancestors, while Katara continues taking on students, acting as an ambassador for the SWT, and becomes a cultural icon within the Fire Nation, single-handedly encouraging many people from waterbender cultures to move there and diversify the nation. Then, Katara gets pregnant. The Fire Nation rejoices, ready to meet their future Fire Lord.

Katara gives birth to a waterbender. Cue just mass CHAOS in the Fire Nation. Suddenly, the cracks begin to show. Yes, you can create some change, or at least the appearance of change, in years, but it takes much longer to really, really create lasting differences. Sure, the Fire Lord can marry who he wants, and she can be Princess Katara (Katara hates being called Princesa Katara and only lets people use it when it's culturally significant, like in certain ceremonies) but our future Fire Lord CANNOT be a waterbender. It's FIRE Lord, not WATER Lord. The Ozai Supporters begin to infiltrate these new groups that are patently AGAINST their oldest son taking on his birth right and becoming Fire Lord someday. How can a waterbender ever understand how to best govern a nation of firebenders?

They eventually have another child, a girl who's a nonbender. The nation clings to her, begging their Fire Lord to skip over their son and bestow the birth right to her. Of course, their daughter has little interest in politics, and while they attempt to shield their son, he is very soon exposed to the prejudice of his own people against him. They had always planned to bring up their children in a mixed bending environment (which, considering the original show, is still a very new thing, since most couples we run into either share their bending or are a bending/nonbending couple,) and they uphold that promise, having both the palace in the Fire Nation and a home in the SWT which they share time in. As their son grows, he loves his heritage as a waterbender, but feels a deeper affiliation to the people he knows he's born to serve (as his father puts it) one day. He's a lot like him: methodical, shy, interested more in politics than fighting, and ridiculously hard on himself. Their daughter is more like Katara: fiery, VERY interested in fighting, and wanting to travel and cut her teeth out in the wide world. She connects deeply with her Uncle Sokka and Aunt Suki who teach her a lot about what it means to be a warrior and how to sail. But, their son weathers the great storm his birth has caused and sees that he's been given an opportunity to further his father and mother's efforts to bring about cultural change, not just in the Fire Nation, but the whole world.

Eventually, years later, their son gives a moving and empowering speech about how, yes, he's been raised with waterbending culture, but the Fire Nation is his homeland. And, who can call the Fire Nation a land of only firebenders? That erases the (now non-secret) cultures of the airbenders who live among them, the many nonbenders who feel disenfranchised, and the new immigrants that have revitalized the culture that ONLY moved there because of the promise of their acceptance his mother represented. He understands what it's like for ALL people to live there, not just firebenders.

He finally wins the majority of people over and succeeds as Fire Lord. Their daughter takes after her uncle and aunt (and her father with his dual blades) and becomes a weaponry virtuoso, and their son is the first to suggest and begin creating a place where there is no cultural expectation of what bending you descend from, to mirror his own mixed bending upbringing, which would eventually become this universe's Republic City.

Please give me notes. Please yell and scream. Do you like? Do you hate? Let me know. Bye.

[xxspringmelodyxx]

Deception~

Morax (Zhongli) x Adeptus! Reader | Ch. I |

Oh hello, my dear readers! I hope you are all having a good day/night! This story is actually a requested story. Now, I know I said that requests are closed, but this person sent me this same request on my older account and so I feel as if I owe it to them for being so patient. So this is a request from @sailorstar9 and I decided to make this into a two/three-part story because I have a really good idea on how to write this. I’ll share with y'all what the first part said so the second part doesn’t get spoiled…you know…just to keep you all on edge ToT. Anyways, here is part of the request!

“As promised, my request piece inspire by your 'Betrayal' series. It's been a while since I submitted the original, so I try to recall what I wrote as much as I can. Here goes. Adeptus!Reader is one of the few Adepti who specializes in healing and purification; it had been her purification rites that prevented the Yakshas from succumbing to their karmic debts. More importantly, she is Rex Lapis' wife, a position Guizhong always wanted for herself. It was at one of the Adepti gatherings that Rex Lapis proudly announced that Reader is pregnant. The other Adepti rejoiced; their Lord finally had an heir. Meanwhile, Guizhong seethed inwardly and she started to plot”

And so, here is chapter I to “Deception”. I hope it meets your expectations! And thank you for the amazing request! Enjoy~

I smiled as tears slowly fell down my face, my body softly glowing from the pure joy I felt. In my hand lay a gorgeous blue lotus flower, confirming my suspicions. Just to be sure, however, I picked up another white lotus flower and let one of my tear drops fall onto it. Within seconds, the white flower quickly transformed into a blue colored lotus, letting me know that I was in fact pregnant. I quickly ran back to Morax’s palace, excited to tell him the news. We had been trying for months, and I mean we were really, really trying. However, no matter what, every time I came out to the Garden of Blooming Lotus’, they would always stay white, telling us that we still had not successfully made a baby. It was getting to the point where I was becoming worried that it was me.

Thankfully, all of that can be put to rest now after seeing the blue flower. I had never loved the color blue so much up until this point. 

–

A few minutes passed and I finally made it back to my and my beloved’s home. 

“Hey, N/n-Woah! Why are you glowing??” Bosacius asked as he covered his eyes. I turned to him with the biggest smile ever, the flower still in my hand.

“Oh Bosa, it is because I have just found out amazing news!” I said, running past him towards Morax’s throne. 

“Woah! Tell me what it is! I wanna know!” He called out to me, but I ignored him, too busy with my own thoughts of how Morax would react.

Once I finished running up the stairs, I saw that his doors were closed, meaning that he was in a meeting with the other archons. I know I should just wait…I don’t want to interrupt his important meetings…

But this is far more important! At least to me it is…and I would hope it was more important to him as well. I shrugged my shoulders and quickly pushed open the doors, the sound echoing throughout the entire room. There were about 15 other archons there, all of who looked back at me to see what I was doing. Morax stopped speaking mid-sentence when he saw you, his pride and joy, standing there with the brightest smile he had ever seen. Not to mention, your body was glowing a bit. That alone made his heart flutter and jump. 

However, he was soon full of concern when he saw your eyes. They were full of tears…yet your body displayed the complete opposite emotion of sadness…

“Excuse us, Y/n, but we are in a very important meeting.” Guizhong said, glaring daggers at you, but you were too busy to notice. 

“No, this meeting is finished. We will have further discussion another time. You may all leave.” Morax said, motioning for them to leave, his eyes still fixated on you. 

“But, Morax, we haven’t finished talking about-”

“I said leave.” Morax said back, this time taking his eyes off of you and onto Guizhong.

“Oh…it’s okay. I can come back once you guys are finish-” You started to speak, but Morax stopped you.

“No, my love. You stay here. Everyone else…out…now!” He said, his voice booming throughout the entire room. Everyone quickly got up out of their seats and scurried out of the room, leaving you and Morax completely alone. 

He got up from his throne, walking down the short set of stairs to get closer to you. 

Once he reached you, he placed his hand out, cupping your face and wiping your tears.

“My dear…why are you crying? Is something the matter? Did someone harm you?” He asked softly, placing soft kisses on your tear-stained cheeks. 

Suddenly, a giggle emitted from your mouth, confusing Morax even more.

“Morax, my love, I am okay…in fact, I am overflowed with joy.” You said, wrapping your arms around him, bringing him down to your lips. You kissed him with such passion and love that it almost made Morax fall down to his knees.

“As much as I am happy to hear you are so happy…may I ask what happened to make you this way?”

“I have a surprise for you…” I said, showing him both of the blue lotus flowers.

He took a second to examine what you have just showed him, taking in the details before his eyes almost popped out of his face. He snapped his head back to you, his eyes full of hope but his mouth at a loss for words. It all made sense now. Why you were so happy, why you had tears in your eyes, why you were glowing, it all made sense!

“Y-You’re…You’re…”

“I believe the word you are looking for is…pregnant!” You said happily, jumping.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized that he is going to be a father. Soon, he will have a family with the woman he loves so much. 

He quickly grabbed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and twisting you in the air with him, laughing at the great news.

“Oh, I can’t believe that I am going to be a father soon!” He said with a bright smile, kissing you as you were still in the air. 

You giggled a bit as you wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss.

You both cut off the kiss a little while after, allowing you both to breathe. As you did, you both continued to stare at each other lovingly.

“You are going to be a great father, Morax. Our little baby is going to absolutely adore you.” You said, cupping his cheek in your hand.

Morax’s heart almost jumped out of his chest at your sweet words.

“And our little baby is going to be so lucky to have a mother like you. Any kid would. When I saw you playing with some of the children last year during our Archon party, I knew you would be amazing as a mother…and I’m so happy to know that you are the mother of my child…our child.” he said, softly landing you back on your feet.

He leaned down once more, placing his lips softly on yours, almost as if he didn’t want to break you.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you so much and will never stop, even after my death.” He spoke softly to you, holding your hand in his.

You smiled up at him, feeling your heart race at his words. Even after all these years of being married to him, he still always knows how to make your heart flutter.

“And I love you, Morax. I always will, no matter what, and even after death.” I said, copying a bit of his sentence.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

“We have to tell the others of this great news! They would love to hear it!” He suggested, making you smile

“I was thinking the same thing. Especially because Bosa is expecting me to tell him soon and if I don’t, he will be very heartbroken.” I said, making Morax smile as he walked me out. 

“Thankfully, everyone should still be outside. So it should be no issue for us to get the message out quickly.” He said happily, holding your hands in his.

–

After a few minutes of you two talking as you walked outside, you two finally made it to the stone staircase, seeing everyone still out and about, including the Yaksha’s.

“Attention everyone!” Morax called out, his voice booming throughout the entire area. 

Everyone suddenly came to a stop and focused their attention towards you two.

“We have some very exciting news to share with all of you. My wife would like to say something.” Morax said, looking down at you with a soft smile.

You looked out to everyone, specifically the Yaksha’s and smiled happily, placing your hand on your stomach.

“We are having a baby!” You said outloud. Within seconds cheers and gasps were heard from all around you.

Inadarius and Bonanus ran up to you two and congratulated you, excited about the new baby that would soon be here in this world. 

“Oh I can’t believe it! You are going to make such a good mother, N/n!”

“I bet you it’s going to look exactly like you, N/n.”

“I hope that is the case.” Morax said, looking towards you

“The mother is very beautiful in every way after all.” He said, caressing your face.

Heat rose to your face as he flirted with you.

“Not in front of everyone, Morax.” You said, trying to hide the smile forming on your face.

“Yo, N/n! What are you planning on naming the baby? I’ve got a couple ideas!” Bosa said

“Please, your ideas come from you combining two of the first things you see.” Menogias says, rolling his eyes at him

“Nuh uh!” Bosa said

“Oh really, so where did you get dirt-cloud from?” Bonanus asked, knowing all too well that Bosa came up with the name by looking at the ground and the sky

“It was just an idea! Damn!” Bosa said, pouting from his friends teasing.

You chuckled at them, happy that they were all so excited for you. However, you couldn’t help but get an off feeling coming from behind you. 

You turned around and saw Guizghong standing there, staring at you with lifeless eyes. It was very…unsettling to say the least.

“G-Guizhong! I didn’t see you there.” You said, trying to start up some sort of conversation with her. 

Suddenly, Morax looked to where you were looking, seeing Guizhong. When she saw that Morax was looking at her, her whole demeanor changed. What once looked like a lifeless form turned into one full of happiness and love.

“Oh, sorry about that. I was just…thinking. Anyways, I must head back to my home. I have some…things I need to work on. Congrats on your baby by the way, Morax! See you both later!” She said, quickly turning on her heels and speeding off to her place.

For some reason you had a weird feeling in your gut. It was all washed away, however, when Morax pulled you into him, placing a finger under your chin.

“I can’t wait to start our family, my love. I especially can’t wait to start our family with you~”

He said, placing another soft kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, feeling any worry or doubt in your body burn away and be replaced by love. You had no idea what the future held for you two, but no matter what, you knew you and Morax would get through it…

Together~

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Tag list (How to be added):

[dysfunctionallygrey]

I was having a great day then I remembered the butch hartman dsmp drawings

Butch Hartman dsmp drawings that I used all my braincells and bodily functions to press the like button and post a nice comment under.

UNDER A BUTCH HARTMAN DSMP DRAWING.

Let it be known now that shame will be forever felt by my descendants. Centuries of misery were built with my own hands. When it comes to the rapture, I will rejoice when God judges my soul and deems it evil, for my undeserving soul was graced with the eyes of the Lord.

Generations will lament. My own name will be spat out like a curse, said with hate and disdain for the one who bore it. My tale will be defiled for the eons to come, and I will weep not because of injustice, but because not enough justice has been served.

[queerprayers]

update <3

I've been procrastinating this (as if that could make it all less real), but so many people have sent prayers and well wishes that I wouldn't feel right not letting you know how grateful I am for your words and also letting you know this: My beloved grandfather died last week.

I honor the faithful service he gave to countless churches and communities, the children he helped raise, the grandchildren he sang to, the children he baptized, the couples (including my parents) he married, the people he buried, the music and faith that never left him even when so much of him did.

I will pass on the last thing he ever said to me, in July, after a busy and joyful weekend celebrating his fiftieth wedding anniversary, as he got in bed for his nap, taking seconds in between words to think: "It's not all hard. Not all the time." This is so hard. But it's also part of loving someone: promising to mourn them when the time comes. Promising to keep going. Love is hard, but it's not all hard. Not all the time.

His funeral will be Catholic, but he used to be a Lutheran, and he presided over many funerals from the worship book I still use, so here are some words I've been saying from there:

O God of grace and glory, we remember before you today our brother. We thank you for giving him to us to know and to love as a companion in our pilgrimage on earth. In your boundless compassion, console us who mourn. Give us your aid, so we may see in death the gate to eternal life, that we may continue our course on earth in confidence until, by your call, we are reunited with those who have gone before us; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light.

The generations rise and pass away before you. You are the strength of those who labor; you are the rest of the blessed dead. We rejoice in the company of your saints. We remember all who have lived in faith, all who have peacefully died, and especially those most dear to us who rest in you. Give us in time our portion with those who have trusted in you and have striven to do your holy will. To your name, with the Church on earth and the Church in heaven, we ascribe all honor and glory, now and forever. Amen.

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy victory? The strife is o'er, the battle done. Love will come again like wheat arising green. The Lord bless and keep him. The Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious to him. The Lord look upon him with favor and grant him peace.

I'm not a Catholic, and was never really taught to pray for souls, but I think I get it a bit now. He was, though, and if that's something you do, I'm sure he would have welcomed that. (And if you know any good saints to throw in the mix, go for it.) My grandmother could also use your prayers.

Thank you for reading this, and holding for a moment the love I have for him. It's heavy right now, and easier to carry with others' prayers beside me. I am praying beside you as well, especially with the many people who have sent me asks that have gone unanswered for ages now. And God holds all of us, more than we could ever imagine. I don't claim to understand death, but I am in the palm of the universe's hand, and my granddad is too, reunited with all that left him in his sickness, and united with a God who knows death intimately. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, love to love.

<3 Johanna