#and i was declared dead when my daughter was two

[sleazyjanet]

do you think robert and the rest of the french team wonder why danielle isn't in the same flash sideways as them and why she's only moving on with some weird evil dude* later

*my theory is ben choosing not to move on with the losties results in him becoming a sort of intermediate person like desmond, helping alex, danielle and some others, like miles, daniel, charlotte, maybe even charles? (listen, there's so much to be said about THAT) etc, remember at their own pace (obviously, alex is his priority, and danielle comes with alex, but i think he helps the others, too)

[a-world-in-grey]

Life Debts and why Nyx's is a Big Deal

@secret-engima because I've been thinking on this and have Feelings.

Y'all can find SE's original post on Debt Braids here, but a short recap:

Debt is taken very seriously in Galahd. If you owe a debt, it's expected that you pay it off as soon as you can - via goods, services, etc. Very large debts between families can be settled through marriage, but as it requires both potential newly weds to be completely willing (Galahdians don't do divorce, you're married until one of you die), that sort of arrangement is rare.

A Life Debt is declared when a Galahdian believes they owe a debt they cannot repay, usually because the debt is so large, so personal, that a value of the debt cannot be given. In such a scenario, the Galahdian will declare a Life Debt and weave a Debt braid into their hair. A Life Debt is declared on that Galahdian's life. Only they can pay it, and once they die, the debt is fulfilled.

Now, this is where we get to just how serious declaring a Life Debt is. A Galahdian who declares a Debt is declaring that they owe this one person so much, that said person essentially now holds their loyalty over even the Galahdian's own clan and Chief. That loyalty stays until the Galahdian dies. If the person holding the debt dies, the debt passes on to their heir. When the heir dies, the debt does not pass on to anyone else, but even then, the Galahdian is not free from the Debt. Instead, they are free to choose how they will fulfill the debt until they die.

Because Life Debts are such a serious thing, no one can demand a Life Debt as payment. It is only ever voluntary.

So now we get to Nyx's Debt to Regis.

(I won't go into why Nyx declared a Debt - canonically we know Regis once saved Nyx's life, but exact details are for everyone's personal headcanons.)

On the surface, it's not that big of a deal. Oh, it's significant. It's a major commitment Nyx can never take back, but it's not really a problem.

Three things make Nyx's declared Debt significant, even by Galahdian standards. 1) The holder of his Debt is the Mainlander King. 2) Nyx is a Clan Chief. 3) Nyx is the absolute Last of his clan. Any single one of these wouldn't be remarkable, but together they turn what would be a significant but standard Debt into a nightmare.

Regis being an Outsider would normally not be an issue. Oh, there are Galahdians that sneer in private over Nyx declaring a Debt to an Outsider, because they believe Galahdians don't owe Outsiders jack shit. (Is it xenophobic? Yes, but Galahdians have a strong insider-outsider mindset and there will always be extremists in any culture.) But they keep their opinions to themselves because commenting on someone's declared Debt is just asking for a broken nose. Even Regis being a king wouldn't be anything other than an unusual detail (because just what happened that caused Nyx to owe a king a Debt?). The biggest thing about Regis being an Outsider is that to fulfill the debt, Nyx pretty much has to leave Galahd for Insomnia until the king and his heir die or one of them gives Nyx explicit permission/orders to return to Galahd. Which sucks, but that's what Debts mean. Regis - and later Noctis - will hold Nyx's first loyalty until Nyx dies.

Nyx being a Clan Chief is where things start getting sticky. A Chief's first duty must be to their clan. Chiefs, as a rule, do not declare Life Debts. They can't, not when they're first loyalty has to be to the clan, instead of a single person outside the Clan. In the very rare cases a Chief feels they must declare a Debt, they step down from their position as Chief. At least, they should. There's no clan law stating someone with a Life Debt cannot be Clan Chief, but a Chief in such a position will either neglect their clan or their Debt. Neither is something Galahdians regard favorably. There's never been a case where a Chief has refused to step down after declaring a Debt, so none of the Clans have ever had to decide what to do, but it's likely it would not end well.

Nyx being the very Last of his clan means that there aren't any other Ulrics he has a duty of care to as Chief. He is the only one affected by his declaration of Debt, so him remaining Chief Ulric isn't actually a problem. Where him being the Last becomes the final nail in the coffin is if anyone ever joins Clan Ulric. Because unless the Clans somehow find an Ulric that escaped the Burning, Nyx can't step down as Chief.

Nyx's first commitment must be to Regis. Then to Noctis. Not to his people. Not to his friends or any personal relationships. Not to rebuilding Clan Ulric. Any spouse/children/clansmen would always come second unless Regis/Noctis allowed it.

(Do I think Regis and Noctis would allow it, if Nyx asked? Yes. In a heartbeat. But Nyx would have to ask. Might even have to explain, and as a whole, Galahdians tend to be... reluctant, to explain their culture to Outsiders.)

I don't think Nyx really thought about the long term consequences of his Debt, when he made it. He might have, and could have decided that the situation was such that he was honor-bound to declare a Debt regardless. But Nyx has a reputation for not really thinking before he leaps into action, and depending on when Nyx declared his Debt? If it was after the Burning, after Nyx lost literally everyone, he probably wouldn't have been thinking clearly even if he had taken the time to think the decision over. And that's assuming he would have realized the implications in the first place - if Nyx wasn't raised to be Chief, it's very probable he wouldn't have.

Every other Clan Chief would have caught the implications. They would have known, from the moment they saw Nyx's braid, that the Last Ulric would never return to Galahd (not when the likelihood of Nyx outliving a boy 12 years his junior was slim to none). That the Last Ulric would likely remain the Last, condemning the Ulric Clan to die with him.

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part two?)

Previous | Master Post | Next

"Alright, kid." Danny sighed as he walked back into the motel. "tell you what, you tell me everything you think you know about me and bats, and I'll be Robin. Deal?"

Tim's eyes widen in surprise, "wait, really?" he asks, dropping the third Oreo he had been trying to balance on Sam's forehead. Sam snored, her nose twitching in agitation for a moment before going back to normal.

Tim leaned back, keeping an eye on her. "do you really mean it? you'll come back and fix him?"

Danny sighed, "I can't promise that I'll be able to fix him, but I can promise to do my best."

Tim nodded his head, "That's all I ask." then the kid stood up, holding his hand out for Danny to shake, "We got a deal, Robin."

Danny smirked, unable to keep a straight face at how cute the kid was being. Reaching out, he shook his hand.

"Right, first things first. Who's Batman, and why do you think so?" Danny asked, making his way over to the table. Tim followed behind him, his face brightening up in excitement.

"Bruce Wayne of course," Tim cheered, plopping down onto the chair across from Danny.

Of course, another rich fruit loop would be Batman. Why not? What's next? Lex Luther was Superman's archnemesis? Oliver Queen cosplayed Katniss Everdeen?

"I thought Dick Grayson, Bruce's ward, was Robin at first. It had made sense, or at least mostly did but I wasn't completely sold on it. I only really thought it was him because Robin was able to do a quadruple backflip, and only Grayson's family was able to do that. but then I saw you! and it makes perfect sense!" Tim smiled excitedly, leaning forward as he continued.

"You were able to do the flip, AND you acted just like Robin did! Dick doesn't act like Robin in public, or ever really. But you do! You did the flip, you make puns! you even bit that one mugger!"

Danny blinked before slowly nodding his head; Well, at least his personality wasn't going to be a problem. "right, makes sense," not. it did not make sense, but who was Danny to crush this kid's hopes. also, how long ago was this? because Danny hadn't done the flip this time... he's definitely bitten a criminal or two over the past two weeks, but the flip? that had to have been back when he first got his powers... he vaguely remembers his parents dragging him around the country on some trip Vlad set up for them.

see, it was totally Vlad's fault.

"and who was the second Robin?" Danny asked, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Bruce's second kid, Jason Todd," Tim replied, not smiling anymore. "The Joker killed Robin over in Ethiopia. Jason went missing and was declared dead around the same time."

"Right," Danny coughed, glancing away from Tim. "and what else do you know?"

"Well, I know Commissioner Gordon's daughter, Barbara, was batgirl..." Tim trailed off with a wince, obviously not liking the conversation anymore. Danny had to agree, the whole class had been informed about the dangers of Gotham City. Barbara Gordan had been one of the examples they used.

"I know that you're using a fake name!" Tim suddenly added, looking more lively now. Danny blinked before sighing, "Yeah? and why's that?"

"you used your bat training to make a fake identity to throw Bruce off your trail! That way you would have more time to settle in with your new team! and it worked for a while, that is until he caught up to you and your team. it doesn't seem he knows about this identity, so you've been using it ever since Jason's death. because you're mad at him."

"and why am I mad at him?" Danny asked, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Just what had he gotten himself into?

"because he didn't tell you about Jason's death." Danny glanced back at the kid, watching as he looked away and out the window. "just like he didn't tell Dick..."

had he finally connected the dots? had he finally realized he got the wrong person?

"why would he not tell you two?" Tim asked, turning to look up at Danny. Danny shrugged, turning to look back at the ceiling. "grief makes people do things they never would have before." like becoming a billionaire and spending twenty years scheming on how to murder a single man. or it could make them more obsessed with their work.

Danny knows Greif, he's had to deal with it for years now. It's the only thing he understands about why Batman has changed so much. Greif, especially for someone you love? It changes you, it holds onto your heart and never lets go. It can drive you insane if you let it.

"he was so caught up in his own grief he didn't realize that there were others who needed to grieve with him."

"Oh," Tim replied.

they sat in silence for a moment before Tim spoke up again.

"I know where the Batcave is."

Danny blinked. Right. Batman. Batcave. the bat-themed vigilante had a secret lair and it was a cave. That checked out. At least it wasn't in the basement.

"yeah?" Danny prompted, "And where's that?"

"under the manor," Tim replied, crushing any and all hope Danny had for Bruce Wayne.

It was official. All billionaires were fruitloops. Danny didn't care if they didn't all have secret basements, they were fruitloops.

Next

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

i saw your prompt list and was hoping for number 6 with Aegon <3

‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’

Request: Aegon married Rhaenyra's daughter. When the king dies, Alicent lock her in the dungeons so she won't go to her mother and ruin the coronation. Aegon ask where his wife is and get you out himself. Tells the guard that his wife is not to be made prisoner

—

You always knew Alicent had madness running through her blood, but you never thought she would have you taken to the dungeons and imprisoned. 

After dressing in your day dress, you were walking down the corridors, looking for Halaena when you heard voices coming from the small council chamber talking about sending men to Dragonstone to kill your mother and Daemon. Before you could get to your bed chamber and write her a message to send by crow, one of the guards saw you and brought you to the dungeons. 

You tried to scream for help, but the sounds were killed by the stone walls. So you sank to the floor and curled on yourself, praying to the gods that someone would come get you out. Someone must have noticed your absence. 

At his return from the dragonpit, Aegon walked into your chambers and called to you. He assumed you were with his sister, so he went to Halaena’s chambers, but she told him she had not seen you. On his way back from his sister’s chambers, Aegon heard the servants whispering about ‘the blacks’ daughter’ and stopped them. 

With fury in his eyes, the prince stormed down to the dungeons. He didn’t have his sword on him — only Aemond wore it on the daily —, but he had his dagger. Whoever would try to oppose freeing you will end their day bleeding out. Aegon was not afraid of a fight. 

His footsteps echoed off the stone walls and the torches flickered as he passed. As he reached the entrance to the dungeons, Aegon clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tight with determination. Without surprise, two guards were stationed at the entrance. They moved to block the way when the prince approached. 

‘’We cannot let you go past, my prince. Orders of the Queen,’’ one of them said.

‘’The King’s dead, which no longer makes her Queen. And as the rightful heir to the throne, it is my command you obey.’’ Aegon tried to go past them, but the other guard pulled out his sword. ‘’I could have you removed from the kingsguard for pointing your sword at your future King.’’ His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger as he stared the defiant guards.

The threat hung heavy in the air, a silent warning of the consequences should they continue to defy him. After a tense moment, the guard who had brandished his sword reluctantly stepped aside.

‘’My wife is not to be made a prisoner,’’ Aegon declared, his voice ringing with authority, holding his dagger at the guard’s throat. 

The guard gulped. ‘’Yes, my Prince.’’ 

Aegon walked past them, wondering how his own mother could do this. A part of him was not surprised, though. Her determination often goes too far. 

Finally, he reached the row of cells. All were empty, except one. His heart was pounding in his chest as he saw you sitting with your knees pulled to your chest on the cold stone floor. He said your name and you looked up, tears welling up in your eyes as you stood and reached out to him. You knew he would come for you. 

‘’Aegon!’’ Your voice held relief. 

He grabbed your hand through the bars, cold from being down here, holding it. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ Aegon reached out to caress your tear-streaked face, his touch a tender reassurance in the midst of chaos. 

Using the keys he stole from the guards, Aegon unlocked the door, a harsh creaking sound echoing in the silence of the dungeon when it opened. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. 

‘’Are you alright?’’ he asked, stepping back to look at you. 

You nodded. You were cold, and very thirsty, but not hurt. ‘’I heard your mother and her father speaking to the Lord Commander. They sent men to murder my mother,’’ you said, a tear slipping down your face. ‘’I was sent here so I wouldn’t write to her and risk ruining your coronation. I need to get to the dragonpit. I have to go to Dragonstone and save my mother.’’ 

—

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[allthingsimagines]

So It Goes…

“I’m yours to keep and I’m yours to lose. You know I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you, so it goes” - So It Goes… by Taylor Swift

Feyd-Rautha x Pregnant!Atreides!Reader

summary: What will happen when orders are given and it pits the two people you love most against one another?

word count: 3.4k

warnings: Feyd being very ooc

a/n: I woke up this morning and cranked this out because I couldn’t get it out of my head

The Freman had attacked in unprecedented numbers. They bombed the city, the whole building rattling violently from the attacks. You had been in the throne room as they broke into the palace. The room filled with smoke as the revered Muad’dib made his way in front of the Emperor.

Your husband, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, had kept you securely behind him the entire time. You clung to him like a shadow, holding the back of his tunic in one hand and your swollen stomach with the other. Muad’dib had made quick work of the disgusting Baron, which had left you feeling an overwhelming sense of relief.

You had prayed for the downfall of the Harkonnen’s since the moment they had murdered your entire family. They attacked with no warning and slaughtered everyone you had ever loved. You were the only survivor and the Baron took you to serve as a reminder of their great power. Certainly, you would have been dead in days if not for your husband’s possessive nature.

You had been promised to him since the day you were born as a show of peace between the families. When the Baron dragged you kicking and screaming back to Geidi Prime, Feyd had declared that you were his to do with as he pleased and no one would lay a hand on you. As humiliating as it was to be reduced to property by him, it was far better than whatever fate you would have had at the Baron’s hands.

Feyd-Rautha was a brutal man. He killed as he pleased and sent a wave of terror over every person he encountered. He had terrified you as well. He did not care for your feelings or desires. You were his wife now, and he could do as he pleased with you. One thing that you had not expected with Feyd was that despite his violent nature towards everyone else, it had never extended to you.

Perhaps it was the fact that he saw you as his to own, but it kept you safe and alive. You had not anticipated for love to bloom from your marriage to him, but you did love him in your own way. He would burn the world down for you and had killed anyone who had spoken ill of you. His brutal nature was alluring and you could not resist it.

He saw you as his property, but that changed once he started to see your own ambitions come to light. You wanted vengeance for your family and you silently plotted how best to take down the Baron. Feyd had thought you to be as meek as a mouse, but you were formidable indeed. You made quite the pair and the people of Geidi Prime adored their na-Baron and na-Baroness. What they didn’t know is that the two of you had been plotting how to take out the Baron for months to take control of the planet.

Seeing the Baron die had drove you to tears. People around you suspected it was because he was family or from the brutality of the kill as he bled out on the steps of the throne. You cried tears of relief for all that he had done to your family and to your husband.

You hardly even registered anything else that had happened in that throne room as you tried to pull yourself together. The Muad’dib then sent all of you to your rooms to be held as prisoners.

You only hoped he would spare you and your husband because of your condition. You were six months pregnant with a daughter and you couldn’t have been more nervous of what would come next.

You prayed the Emperor would die, along with the Reverend Mother that had plotted alongside him. She had hated your family since the day you and Paul were born. Your mother was only supposed to have a daughter and she had broke that promise. Paul had held all of the power the Bene Gesserit looked for in daughters. While you were still trained by your mother to use the voice, you never were anywhere close to what abilities Paul had.

Now, you hoped that evil woman would pay for all she had done.

“Wife.”

You looked over from your spot on the bed only to find Feyd moving towards you at a hurried pace. Your heart rate increased at his tense form, “Yes, husband?”

“They’re calling all prisoners. You will stay by my side, understand?” Feyd said as you stood from your place to meet him.

His hand reached out to hold the side of your face while the other was splayed over your bump. You nodded and placed your hand over his own, “Will you promise me something?”

“Anything darling,” He said, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone.

“Don’t get yourself killed. I need you to try to stay out of whatever conflict arises. We need you Feyd,” You said with a shaky voice.

Feyd pressed his lips hungrily to yours and you moaned against them. He pulled away, leaving you breathless as he spoke, “No man will kill me today.”

A loud banging came from outside your door and Feyd let out a growl of annoyance. He pulled away and took your hand in his own as he led you out of the room, your ladies fearfully following behind. You followed Feyd out of the room and were met with Freman soldiers, who all tensed at the sight of your husband. You clutched onto Feyd’s hand tighter as the guards led you behind the Emperor, Princess Irulan, and the Bene Gesserit.

The guards opened the large doors to the room and you all followed in. You stuck close to Feyd’s side as you took in all of the Freman soldiers that surrounded the room. You stood in the middle of the crowd as Feyd stood slightly in front of you for protection.

“There is a mass armada in orbit. You’re facing a full invasion Freman,” the Emperor spoke as he came to a stop with the General’s signal.

The Muad’dib stood in the middle of the room facing away from you. You narrowed your eyes on his figure as he looked familiar to you.

“How can you be so sure the great houses are here for me? They might be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think?” the Muad’dib spoke before turning around to face the Emperor.

It was him. He was alive despite all of the odds. Paul.

You stepped forward without thinking as your eyes welled with tears at the sight of your brother. Once Feyd realized who he was he followed after you as you made your way to the front. Feyd kept his hand securely around your middle as you moved through the crowd.

“I am Paul Atreides. Son of Leto Atreides. Duke of Arrakis,” he spoke, but your brain could hardly register the words being spoke as you tried to get to him.

“Gurney, send a warning to all the ships. If the great houses attack, our atomics will bomb all of the spice fields.”

Your eyes widened as they found Gurney Halleck following Paul’s command. You couldn’t stop your tears as another one of your family members was alive.

“Are you out of your mind?” the Emperor said in shock as you made your way to the front.

“Consider what you’re about to do Paul Atreides,” the Reverend Mother said.

“Silence!” Paul shouted with the voice and you heard her fall to the ground.

Before anything else could be said or done, you pushed past a few of the nobles at the front to get a good look at your brother. You squeezed Feyd’s hand as he stood close behind you, “Paul.”

Paul’s eyes snapped to you and you saw his whole body tense. The room was silent as he stepped towards you in shock, “Sister?”

You let out a choked sob as you dropped Feyd’s hand and rushed towards your brother. He pulled you into a tight hug and you clutched onto him like a life line. He pulled away and you took a good look at your brother. His eyes were blue now from the spice and he looked much older than he did when you saw him last.

“I can’t believe you’re alive. How did you-“ you started, but Paul cut you off.

“Mother and I escaped. In all of my visions I never saw you alive, how are you here?” He asked, but all you heard was the fact that your mother was alive.

Your eyes darted around the room, but your eyes settled on the one woman of power in the room. Your mother stood next to Gurney, her hand planted on her own swollen stomach as she watched the two of you interact. She was dressed like a Mother Reverend would be, and based off of her new appearance and the group surrounding her you suspected that was right.

You pulled away from Paul and tearfully let go of him as you hurried to your mother. Lady Jessica pulled you into a tight embrace and held you close to her body.

“Mother, I missed you,” you said into her shoulder as she rubbed your back in the comforting way she had when you were a child.

You pulled away and both of you looked at your swollen stomachs before meeting eyes again. She placed her hand on yours and let out a soft sigh, “You survived, just like I taught you.”

You nodded, without all of her preparation when you were younger you certainly would have died. You looked over to find Gurney giving you a proud look that was filled with more emotion than you’d ever seen from him. You reached forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek before quickly pulling back, “It’s good to see you again, old man.”

Gurney chuckled and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by Paul. “My own sister lives as a testament to our family’s strength. She is Y/N Atreides!”

The Freman cheered, but you only tensed as you stepped away from Gurney and your mother. Your husband would not keep his mouth shut at that. You were his wife after all.

“She is no longer an Atreides. She is Y/N Harkonnen now,” your husband spoke as you saw Paul’s eyes turn to him, filled with anger.

You quickly crossed the room and stood in front of your husband to defend him from Paul. The two had always hated each other and now it was at an all time high.

Paul watched as Feyd’s hand wrapped around your pregnant stomach securely, and you leaned back into his hold. Paul took a shaky breath to try to control his rage as you grabbed Feyd’s hand atop your stomach, “If he hadn’t married me, I would have died at the Baron’s hands months ago. He is the only reason I am still alive.”

Paul bit his lip to contain his own anger and turned to the Emperor as the two began shouting at one another. You let out a shaky breath as you tried to collect yourself. Feyd’s hand rubbed a gentle circle on your stomach as your daughter kicked against it.

You looked back at him and he moved his hand to your face. He gently wiped your tears and you pressed a kiss to his palm. You turned your attention back to Paul as he declared he would marry Princess Irulan.

“But you have to answer for what you did to my father,” Paul growled out as he stared down the Emperor.

“Do you know why I did it? It was because he was a man who believed in rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule. In other words, your father was a weak man,” he spoke and the room sat in a tense silence as your anger bubbled.

Your father was not weak for loving your family. He was a strong man whose love for your family lasted until his dying day.

“Stand or choose your champion,” Paul said, his strength unwavering.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I choose him as my champion,” the Emperor spoke.

Your heart seized at his words and you looked up to meet your husband’s eyes, but they were set on the Emperor. He stepped away from you to follow the command, but you reached out to snag his hand.

“Feyd, you cannot do this. He is my brother,” you begged as he kept his eyes forward.

“I do not turn down fights, darling,” he said walking towards the Emperor to get his blade.

Gurney handed Paul a blade and he quickly took a fighting stance on the opposite side of the room. Feyd took the blade and moved to ready himself. You went to go to Feyd, but the Freman soldiers blocked your path. You glared in anger at them, “This is ridiculous! Feyd, don’t do this.”

Feyd kept his eyes forward on Paul as the two took their positions. Paul met your eyes before he looked back at Feyd and held his blade up just like Duncan always had before a fight, “May thy knife chip and shatter.”

Feyd turned his head to find your horrified look before turning back to Paul. He smirked before he repeated the phrase, “May thy knife chip and shatter.”

Then the fight began. The two fought brutally against one another and you could have been sick at the sight. You called out for them to stop, but they continued their violent dance. You looked over at the Emperor to find him watching with a pleasant look on his face. You growled as you moved towards him, “This is madness! Call off the fight!”

The sounds of swords clashing rang in your ears as you stared the old man down. He gave you an annoyed look before turning back to the fight, “Quiet woman.”

Your anger spiked and you opened your mouth to speak, but your head snapped to the fight as you found Paul on top of Feyd with his blade in his shoulder. Your mouth opened in horror as Feyd pushed Paul off of him and ripped the dagger out.

You turned to the Emperor to try to convince him, but an arm wrapped around your throat. The Emperor tightened his arm on your throat as you thrashed against him, “If they want to keep you alive, they’ll finish the fight.”

You fought against his hold, but quickly stopped as he pressed a blade to your stomach. You froze in his hold as your mother called out, “Paul! Feyd-Rautha!”

Paul turned his head to see what was the interruption only to find the Emperor holding you tightly to him. Feyd turned and his whole body filled with rage. The two men stepped away from one another and you smirked, “Now you’ve done it.”

The Emperor hated the look the men’s eyes as they made their way towards him. He tightened his hold on your throat and you grimaced, “Done what?”

Feyd was the angriest you’d ever seen him and Paul wasn’t much different, “You’ve united them in a common cause.”

The two men came towards you and everyone backed away. The Emperor pressed the knife harder against your stomach and you gasped in pain.

Feyd was filled with the urge to commit unspeakable violence at the sight of the Emperor holding a blade to his pregnant wife. You met Feyd’s eyes and tried to calm yourself down.

“I was willing to spare your life, but now you’ve threatened my sister,” Paul said, holding his blade up to the Emperor.

“Release my wife and I will make your death quick,” Feyd growled out as he stepped closer.

“You will continue the fight if you want her to live. I command it!” the Emperor shouted and pressed his arm tighter against your throat.

You gasped for air and Paul was quick to use the voice, “Release her!”

The Emperor quickly dropped the blade and let you go. You stumbled away from him, but before anyone else could act you snatched the blade from the floor and drove it into his stomach.

The Emperor gasped out in pain and stumbled as you drove the knife deeper. You met his pained eyes and glared, “For House Atreides.”

You drove the knife up higher into his stomach one last time before you stepped away and he fell to the floor. His daughter dropped to his side as he took his final breath and you turned back to face Paul. You steeled your nerves and met his eyes before you kneeled before him, “Emperor Paul Atreides.”

You heard everyone in the room kneel and your husband dropped to your side. You kept your eyes on the floor, but you reached over to grab his hand. Feyd squeezed your hand in his own as he stayed at your side. Paul began giving directions and everyone rose to their feet.

Feyd pulled you to your feet and was quick to pull you close to him. His eyes raked over your body as he scanned for any sign of injury. He took your face in his hands and met your eyes. You could tell he was furious at what had occurred as he inspected you.

“Are you hurt?” he growled out as he noticed the redness on your neck.

You placed your hands over his and let out a shaky breath, “I’m okay. We’re both okay Feyd.”

He nodded and moved to place a hand on your stomach protectively. He shakily sighed before giving you a proud look, “You did well there, I wasn’t sure if you would be able to do it.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch, “I did it out of love for my family. That includes you and our daughter, my love.”

A proud smirk appeared on his face, “You should kill more often. You look alluring when you do.”

Shaking your head at your husband, you spoke, “I’ll leave the violence to you, husband. I have other ways of gaining your attention.”

Feyd smirked before pulling you into a deep kiss. You groaned in response as you pulled yourself as close as you could to him with your bump in the way. You both pulled away and he brushed some stray hair from your face.

“Feyd-Rautha.”

You both turned to face your brother, the new Emperor, as he stood in front of you with Gurney at his side. The room was full of commotion as people began to shout and head out.

“We’re taking the fight to the great houses. Can I trust that you will keep my sister safe while I am away?” Paul asked, doing his best to bridge the wedge between them.

You looked between them as Feyd contemplated his words. Feyd looked down at you and let out a sigh before looking back to Paul.

“I will gladly give my life to keep her and our daughter safe,” he declared as he returned your brother’s intense stare.

Paul reached his arm out and Feyd reached forward and clasped it. The two stood staring at each other before Feyd said, “Good luck Atreides.”

They dropped each other’s arms and Paul gave you a nod before he headed off to lead the charge. You let out a nervous sigh, but leaned into Feyd’s hold.

“You couldn’t call him Emperor?” You asked with a teasing lilt to your voice as you leaned against Feyd’s chest.

“Now what would be the fun in that?” he asked and you shook your head at him as he rubbed gentle circles on your waist.

“Will we be alright? The Imperium is going to be after all of us after today. Especially me, since it was my hand who killed the Emperor,” you asked and his hold tightened on you.

Feyd guided your chin up to meet his eyes. He looked like a man ready for battle with how intense he was looking at you, “You are my wife. If any one dares to try to lay a hand on you again or our daughter, they will wish they were dead when I get my hands on them.”

You let out a sigh as his violent words felt incredibly reassuring. You softly kissed him once more and smiled up at him, “Good. That was exactly what I hoped you would say.”

[kihyunsflavor]

Cross my heart part 1

next chapter ↪︎

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: When Paul Atreides is killed by Feyd-Rautha, the only hope for the Bene Gesserit plan lies with Feyd. As the eldest daughter of the emperor, your father promises you to the na-Baron to forge an alliance between your two houses. However, this turn of events is not to your liking, and you harbor little fondness for him.

Warnings: arranged marriage, sexual tension (smut in next chapter), mentions of violence and blood, pet names, size kink, enemies to lovers trope (?)

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Also let's imagine Margot Fenring did not visit Feyd on his birthday. 

Horror plays on her face when her lover falls to the ground. Blade buried deep in his chest, where his heart was beating only seconds ago. There is no scream from her, she is quiet as the tears fall. Soon the room is filled with loud gasps and cries. You watch her break down on her knees. Now her lover was dead and the Fremen had lost. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of your father's face. There's a subtle hint of relief, a fleeting expression that only you can discern. Meanwhile, Feyd-Rautha turns around, a broad grin stretching across his lips. "Is this your Lissan al-Gaib? The Mahdi?" he mocks the Fremen gathered in the hall.

But in that moment, the Emperor and the na-Baron were invisible to them. All attention was focused on the fallen messiah as they swarm around the body. It doesn't take long for the left over armies to come and escort you to safety. Feyd trailed closely behind, a constant amusement playing on his features.

Your father's fury is evident; his clenched fist betrays his agitation. Yet this time, you won and destroyed the upcoming force from Arrakis. You tried to match his steps, but he was eager to leave this planet. You look back once, only to see her again. You didn't. She was hidden by the crowd. Instead, your eyes meet Feyd's. He had been walking closely behind you. "Don't worry, princess." Is all he says. You turn your face away, but he falls into step right by your side.

There is a ship, that will escort you back home. Feyd stayed alongside you and your father until your departure. "For now, I will return to Kaitain. But we will come back and slaughter them all." The emperor declared. Feyd Rautha nodded solemnly. He had dropped to one knee in front of your father. "You will stay here to oversee the spice harvest." There was a long silence. You noticed how your father exchanged meaningful glances with the revered mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. The silent communication left you puzzled, unaware of its significance.

Suddenly, your father rose from his chair. "And I will give you my eldest daughter." 

A cold shudder went down your spine as you heard his words. You stared at his side profile, hoping this was a misunderstanding, but the revered mother came into your sight. You understood why it had been done, you remembered the words from her. Feyd was yet another prospect for the Bene Gesserit. When your eyes fell on the Harkonnen, he smirked up at you. 

"I will not leave with you, will I?" You asked, as the na-Baron had left the room. "You will. He won't claim you until he has proven himself." Your father affirmed. He referrered to the need for the spice harvest to resume successfully.

"He will come to Kaitian when the time is right." 

When you arrived on your homeplanet, the emperor dissappeared immediately. He was busy tending to the Fremen rebellion. The news of Paul Atreides getting killed by Feyd Rautha spread rapidly. The other houses remained firmly aligned with the emperor, since Paul had attempted to disrupt the spice harvest. Now there was no hope, no Lissan al-Gaib, for the Fremen. No one, who would bring them to Paradise as the prophecy had been told. However, Paul had not been the awaited Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit had anticipated. Few knew, but the hope now rested upon your future husband.

Over the past few months, reports were sent to your father. They arrived from Arrakis, each carrying Feyd's signature. He described the spice harvest as successfull and on the best way to reach big numbers again.

As your father reviewed the latest missive, his expression grew pensive. "He seems to exceed the expectations. The baron sent a report himself." The emperor said, while leaning over his table. You nodded approvingly, your heart racing at the mention of Feyd's name. "Will he come soon?" Your father frowned at your question, fully lost in his thoughts.

"My daughter, I think I need to send you away." Your eyes widened, but his remained fixed on the scroll. "You will go to Giedi Prime. Solidify our alliance with House Harkonnen, familiarize yourself with the Baron and find out his political plans. The wedding will take place on Kaitain in due time." You listened well, while he explained. "Will Feyd-Rautha also be on Giedi Prime?" The thought of facing the Baron alone on this dark planet made you shudder. It was a nightmare. "Yes."

Before the month´s end, you yourself send a letter to the na-Baron. It was a request form your father, advised by the revered mother. Every word was carefully written by yourself with your name prominently displayed beneath the message. It was not a long letter. You informed him about your upcoming trip to Giedi Prime to meet his uncle, the Baron. And suggesting that he should join you as well. It was not a plead, but like a beckoning call to him. Of course you had to charm him first. In the future he would either listen to you willingly or you would resort to manipulation. Feyd Rautha was known for his ambitious and ruthless character, willing to do whatever it took to achieve his own goals.

Oh how it angered you to travel to this unpleasant planet - but you were hiding your feelings from everyone. It was a duty you had to fulfill. Showcasing the amicable relations between the two houses was important.

The ship was prepared at the start of the next month, laden with various garments, jewelry, shoes, and other essentials. The dresses, in particular, were meticulously crafted for this trip, symbolizing the prestige and authority of House Corrino. A few servants and a Bene Gesserit sister accompanied you.

The journey was short and soon you found yourself descending into the atmosphere of Giedi Prime. Sitting composedly in your chair, you awaited the ship's landing. A scroll was clutched in your hand, an unfamiliar excitement stirred in your stomach. You read the single line repeatedly. "As you wish, my princess." While technically you couldn't hear him say it, in your mind, it was as if he were speaking directly to you.

He was a very intelligent man, with a mind sharp like a knife, yet charming and handsome at the same time. He effortlessly commanded attention wherever he went. Despite this, you wished you could avoid marrying him. While he ignited unfamiliar passions within you, you were certain they were nothing more than fleeting fantasies. There was excitement, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to cause you harm. Maybe with time, you'd figure him out better.

As the ship landed, there was no time left to dwell on these thoughts. Stepping out onto Giedi Prime, a servant handed you your long coat, its once vibrant color now subdued by the planet's dim light. The Baron awaited your arrival, surrounded by a crowd gathered to greet you. It was to be a grand entrance, fitting for the daughter of the emperor.

With confidence, you made your way to the Baron, your eyes catching Feyd standing beside his uncle. A smirk played on his lips, betraying his excitement to see you. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief that he was here.

"Welcome to Giedi Prime, Princess. It's an honor to have the daughter of the Emperor grace our humble planet with her presence. I trust your journey was pleasant?" The Baron's words brought your attention back to the present, as he bowed before you, followed by his nephews.

"Thank you, Baron. The journey was indeed smooth," you replied politely. As the three men straightened up, Feyd stepped forward and gently kissed the back of your hand. First, you wanted to pull away, but his touch was surprisingly soft, and you allowed him to continue. After all, it was a well-mannered gesture.

"I was waiting for you, my princess," he whispered slyly, his words dripping with charm. There was a palpable tension building between the two of you, and despite yourself, you found him captivating. Your mind wandered back to the Fremen girl you came across on Arrakis, the one who had lost her beloved. In her eyes, there had been an unmistakable depth of love and dedication. You couldn't help but envy her, for she had someone to fight for, someone to live for. You were never going to experience that.

As you were led through the castle, the architecture and decor caught your attention, though not in a favorable way. Everything seemed dark and robust, with a metallic, cold feeling permeating every corner. The building reflected the characteristics of the residents of Giedi Prime, with their porcelain-white features and hairless appearance. You couldn't help but feel relieved that the wedding would take place on Kaitain, away from this grim atmosphere.

A room was shown to you by Feyd Rautha himself. It was an uncomfortable walk. Conflicting emotions churned in your stomach, leaving you uncertain of how to act. There was only one topic you both could talk about. "I heard the spice harvest is going well," you ventured, breaking the awkward silence. Feyd, who had been walking slightly ahead, slowed his pace and turned to look at you. "Yes, my princess. The Fremen haven't been attacking our spice harvesters. They have withdrawn almost entirely." You acknowledged his response with a subtle nod. "That's great."

Suddenly, Feyd stopped, causing you to pause in confusion. The servants trailing behind also halted. "Is it?" Feyd's smirked, as he turned his body to face you directly, now standing pretty close to you. "Well, why wouldn't it be?" you replied, perplexed by his demeanor. "You know what I mean by that, my little princess," he said, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You allowed the touch, still unsure of his intentions. Seeing your confusion, he smiled, showing his black teeth. "My dear, you know what your father told me. If the spice harvest was doing well, I could make you mine." He leaned in, now towering over you. "And if I understood correctly, you're looking forward to our union?" It was as if a switch had been flipped in your mind. Your praise for his work could easily be misunderstood as eagerness to marry Feyd.

You took a step backwards to create more distance between you. Feyd let his hand drop to his side, his smile remaining in place. "I see what you mean now. Perhaps it could be interpreted that way, but it wasn't my intention. I was simply acknowledging the work that had been done on Arrakis." You said.

Feyd appeared disappointed by your response, his eyes betraying his displeasure at your lack of reciprocation. But first, he would have to work to earn your attention. While he may have proven himself to your father, it didn't mean you were now at his feet. You would make it especially challenging for him.

He escorted you to your chambers without uttering another word. "Good night, Princess." His tone was cold and desinteressed. You stood in the door frame, contemplating wether to say something, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "My Lord." You interjected at the last moment. Feyd paused abruptly, turning to face you. "Thank you for heeding my request and returning to Giedi Prime." You offered him a little smile, before closing the door behind you.

It was all just manipulation, to wrap him around your finger and keep him under your influence. He was thrilled to marry you anyways. Though love and affection were foreign to Feyd Rautha, his sexual desire was his weakness.

next chapter ↪︎

[divinesolas]

For the night

summary: on the hunt for houses to declare for aegon the greens stumble upon house vance and its new lady of the house, gwayne seems particularly taken with her.

gwayne hightower x vance!reader

w.c: 3k

c.w: cole is an asshole, assault on reader (not gwayne), fluff, p in v, oral (fem), fingering (fem), not proofread

a.n: not my usual content but gwayne hightower you have charmed me

he was so sick of being out on the road. the mud, the dirt, the grass, the blood, everything he was sick of it all. and of course he was stuck traveling around with criston cole and the stick that seemed to be so far wedged up his ass it should be coming right out of his mouth.

it was another day of watching men bend the knees in his armor that made his skin feeling sticky with sweat and dirt and blood on his face, his hair a mess he is going to kill someone if he has to live another day like this. yet today something in particular catches his eye, the women who typically stood off to the side while the men bend the knee never normally interest him, but a particular women catch his attention instantly. staring off to the side without a care in the world as the early fall breeze hit your face.

a woman like her is far too beautiful to be standing out in this rutty old field next to these old crinkly men she deserved to be living in paintings or in a statue carved from the purest stone. He could not take his eyes off you, you must have been able to feel his eyes on you as you crane your head and lock eyes with him. your expression does not change but you do drop your head and cup your hands together in front of you when his gaze does not stray. a smile tugs at his lips he cannot fight for the first time in days.

once it is all said and done he gets stuck in a conversation with some random knight that he is less than happy to be talking to he finally manages to worm his way out of the conversation and looks around the field for you. his face twitches slighty when he sees you talking with criston cole and hastily rushes over.

Your conversation becomes clearer and clearer the closer he gets. “as i have told you before ser cole i am unmarried.” “i find that hard to believe you are the daughter of lord vance.” you merely shrug at him, “i do not know what you wish me to say, prior to your arrival i had been the youngest of six, i had four other sister ahead of me who married.my father saw no reason to marry me off. he had a son who married a nice lady and now they have all slit their throats in the castle halls, i never expected to be in charge or be married.” He had seen the incident first hand, when criston burst open the doors of the castle he did not expect to step in a pool of blood and fresh corpses laying on the ground of the majority of house vance excluding you and your father who was just beheaded for not bending the knee.

when you notice gwanye walk over your eyes trail to him for a moment which causes cole to look at gwayne before you turn away from him. “now is certainly not the time to be flirting with ladies cole” cole sighs and he turns to gwayne with his arms crossed, “as everyone else in her line is dead and she has no other living relatives she is the new lady of the house. i thought women of your, respectable age, would atleast have a suitor or two” gwayne rolls his eyes, he cannot believe cole and his disrespectfulness, if his suspensions were correct he had no clue what his sister saw in him. does he not realize he is speaking to one of the more gorgeous women in the realm?

“and i thought you white cloaks were swore to purity. it seems we are both wrong.” he watches a switch flip in coles eyes and before he can say anything cole has you by the neck and you attempt to take some gasps of air. “cole! release her!” many eyes had turned in their direction as you beat your hand on his forearm but no one dared move. gwanye finds himself pulling out his sword but doesn’t point it at cole just yet but his hand is itching to strike him down.

“you have no clue what you speak of.” cristons spits at you with venom but continue attempting to takes gasps of air. “criston that is enough!” your face contorts in confusion as you continue to try and pull yourself from his grip. “i meant was some of your men were seen in a brothel a town over last night.” Criston keeps you in his hands for awhile longer before he lets you go and takes a step back. you grasp at your neck as you take many deep breaths, gwayne puts his sword back and grabs his water skin and hands it to you. He watches as you eagerly drink the sack dry before turning to criston, “do you have no decency? strangling an innocent woman?”

cole says nothing but gwayne can tell he’s embarassed about the display and all the eyes on him. criston steps towards you and you step back into gwaynes chest to which he happily keeps you against him as cole speaks hushedly. “you will tell me the names of these men.” you look around at the white cloaks and point to a group of four of them standing around and chatting pretending like you cant feel gwaynes fingers rubbing circles around your hips. “how would i know you are telling the truth?” “my brother was a frequent customer of that particular brothel, i had gone to go pick him up and i walked in to see them, sharing a particular women in the center of the room with their cocks about but still wearing their armor.”

as much as he hates to admit it cole finds himself believing you, “we will discuss this after i am done speaking with them. then we must head out.” gwayne would rather die than go back on the road now especially with you in his hands. “cole, can we not take one night to rest? look at the men and tell me they are not exhausted? think of the morale cole.” he does not care about the teams morale but criston doesn’t need to know that, yet when he looks around it is rather obvious the team is suffering. mens feet dragging about the ground and faces devoid of life. criston turns to gwayne who simply raises his eyebrows at him, criston turns to you, “your lands shall host our men for tonight. but just tonight we leave first daylight.” gwayne grins at cristons pointed addition and feels you nod your head. “we have a couple beds though not many-” “we have tents to sleep outside.” “i will be more than happy to take a bed if he will not my lady.”

criston walks off leaving the two of you standing together when you remove yourself from him and turn to face him. “i am not a whore ser hightower.” he flinches slightly in surprise and manages to shake himself out of shock with a laugh. “i never thought you were my lady.” “your eyes and hands certainly say different ser.�� He had been a little forward had he? so he bow his head to you.

“apologies my lady, let me try this again. I am gwayne hightower, pleasure to meet you.” he grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back of your hand. you hum and pull your hand away from him much to his annoyance. “likewise i suppose though i wish it was under better circumstances.” he watches as your eyes drift to the large pile of bodies that had built up, hes sure your family lies within the pile, “i would like to give you my condolences.” you snort and shake your head. “im sure you would.” he wishes he could get a read on you but you keep your walls kept up tight.

he wants to rip them down and expose you to him fully. hes never been so taken with a woman and especially with such quickness, maybe it was a fleeting lust but he was so fascinated by you he cant help but want to keep talking with you, watch your every move. yet you do not give him the chance as you begin to step away from him, “one of my men will show you and your men to your room. Good day ser hightower.”

you turn your back to him and begin to walk away. he almost wants to follow after you, to chase you down and continue to talk to you but the way you turn your head back at him to give him one final look is enough to have him knowing itll be worth the chase a smirk is unable to leave his face as he steps away and turns is back to go find cole who happens to be screaming at the men you pointed at. He’ll look for you later he’s sure of it and he’s more than sure he’ll find you.

the sun had been long set and the night cold when he sees you again. its not hard to find your room, which had been moved to the main chambers only hours after your fathers death. he finally feels refreshed after a long bath and finally out of his armor or camp clothes, being given some soft nigh clothes by the maids. he should just want to lay in bed and sleep, maybe even travel with some of the other men to the brothel nearby but he doesn’t much to the surprise of his men. He instead finds himself walking through the empty halls of the castle until he stands in front of the doors of what appears to be your chambers

He knocks before he even can think about his actions and the door cracks open after a few moments of silence. Your head pops out and your eyes narrow at him, “do you need something?” “merely wish for some company, someone to chat with.” your brow raises and he can tell you do not believe a word he says. “just to chat?” a small laugh escapes him and he smiles, “well if you are offering more who i am to deny?” you roll your eyes and the door cranes open some more but you don’t let him in, standing in the doorway you lean against the wall. “my maidenhead remains in tact ser.” he throbs, you were a minx put on this plane for testing his strength. “don’t make the offer more tempting my lady, i am a merely a gentleman.”

he takes the opportunity to get a full look at you, changed out of your day clothes and dawned in a silk nightgown in a light green, the straps are thin leaving your shoulders and collarbones bare as well as your sleeves but what it lacks up top it is long enough to hit almost your feet. Your arms crossed under your chest where almost salivates at the sight. He can see your nipples poking through the almost sheer fabric of your dress. You are so much better than any sight at any brothel and more beautiful than any eligible lady in all the seven kingdoms.

“you done looking at me yet?” his eyes shoot back up to you while he grins, “never my lady.” he watches you face flash and you stand up straight. “as fun as this back and forth is ser hightower unless you are looking to marry me i must ask you to leave.” you bow your head and go to clothes your door but his foot in the way stops you. “ser,” “what if i was interested in marrying you?” you push the door open and stare at him blankly. “do not jest ser hightower.” “gwayne please and no i do not jest.” he has never been interested in marrying much, his sister had married the fucking king and had plenty children his father cared not for if he was married or not. Gwayne enjoyed the life he lived, traveling from brothel to brothel without a care in the world but you had been the first eligible lady hes ever met that even remotely interested him.

it would not be so bad to marry, this war has shown him that everything peaceful lasted forever and maybe it would be good to settle down somewhere, with someone. he watches you watch him thoughtfully, your eyes unreadable as you watch him for any signs of deceit and lies. When he makes no moves you take a couple steps back, the doorway to your room now wide open for him to step into. “If you step past the doorway you will have to marry me ser gwayne, are you really willing to give everything up for one lay?”

you stare at him with a challenge in your eyes. you think he’ll walk away and you’ll never see him again, he’ll be nothing more than a fleeting memory of a handsome man that wanted your attention for a day and you’ll settle for whatever carefully chosen lord the greens pick for you to keep you in line and you’ll live the rest of your life plainly.

The door shuts with a quiet thud and you turn around to take a sip out of your wine glass as silence fills the room you stand in.

a hand suddenly plays with one of the thin straps of your dress and pushes it down your shoulder, the right side of your dress falls down exposing the right side of your chest as his lips dance around your shoulder and neck. you lean your head back against his chest as his hands knead at your sides. He begins sucking at the part where your neck and shoulder meet while your left strap falls exposing your chest fully but his stands stop it from fully hitting the floor.

He suddenly spins your around as you take another sip from your wine, and he shoves his lips against yours, drinking the wine from your lips and some dribbles out of your mouth. when he removes his lips they trail down and lick up all the wine that had slipped out, his hands leave your waist and your dress hits the floor softly leaving you bare in front of him.

his head spins as he stares at you you sit on the table with your legs parted. “live up to your standards?” he shakes his head as he drops to his knees, “your beauty surpasses that of the maiden herself.” He rubs his hands on your thighs as you let out a shaky breath staring at his ginger hair. he presses light kisses on your inner thighs growing closer to where your dripping for him.

he licks softly at your folds first before his tongue pushes past them and greedily lapping at your core. his hands grab at your hips to pull you closer to him as you rut your hips again his face. When he groans against your core shedding shivers up your spine your throw your head back is your hand tugs at his hair softly.

you bite your lips to silence yourself in the hopes no one hears you but when he pulls away and bites your thigh you can’t but let out a whine. “let me hear you.” you shake your head as he pushes two fingers inside of you, “what if someone hears?” “let them hear us i dont care.”

Your grip on his hair grows tighter as you feel his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers begin to push in and out of you at a steady pace. you hunch over as you grow closer and closer, he revels in the way you’ve stopped holding yourself back and lets your sounds flood his ears. he can tell you’re close with the way your grip on his hair tightens even more and the way your thighs clench so snuggly around his head.

“gwayne.” he pulls away just enough to speak to you, “its okay let go.” he licks up every drop you spend out while his fingers help guide you through your peak. he stands back up and smiles at you with his bruised glossy lips. “do you want me to do the same?” he licks his lips and shakes his head, “not today beautiful as tempting as that is.” he presses his lips against yours as his hands work as his trousers to free himself. your hands join his and make quick works to free himself from his clothes leaving him bare. he picks you up and you giggle as he smiles against your lips and drops you onto the bed.

you grip his shoulders tightly as he begins to thrust into you. mumbling words of encouragement in your ear you hiss as he enters you more and more until he’s fully inside of you. he tries his best to restrain himself knowing you need time to adjust, he feels the way your walls clench around him and the way your eyes shut tightly he cant help but groan at the sensation of it all. fuck whores and fuck brothels he thought, nothing would truly get better than this. and when he starts to thrust and the way you sing to him is better than any wine.

he helps your legs wrap around him as his thrust grow more and more aggressive, as he watches your tits bounce he cant help but lean down and wrap his mouth around your nipple as he cries out. one of his had been on your thigh moves to rub your clit and only when you release around him does he allow himself to spend his seed inside you.

when you fall asleep on his chest as he traces shape in your skin a playful smile falls on his lips as he thinks about how furious cole will be, the man had been planning to marry you off to some old man who would agree to anything they said and now cole is going to be stuck dealing with him. yet he doesn’t care because as long as he can have you it doesn’t matter.

[darkestspring]

Could you do a part three on the aegon’s wife being rhanerya and daemon’s daughter and the blood and cheese assassination being attempted on her instead of Helaena

part one | part two | asks are open!

Aegon had wanted to slaughter the whole of them, everyone on dragonstone. innocent, guilty, it didn't matter to him. he wanted them all dead but under his wife's pleas, he agreed to rescind the declaration of war but add in the condition that they were not to approach you unless you allowed it under explicit consent.

you sent your own letter, telling them to not see or talk to you unless you sent them a letter first. The grief you felt never ceased. You often cried when you thought the twins couldn't hear you, sobbing into your hands.

You almost lost Jaehaerys and now you clung to both of your children, no longer letting maids dress them or feed them or even watch over them. you remained near them at all times, sleeping in their room so often that you ordered a bed to be placed in there. Or you would often sleep with them in your bed.

"I'm okay, Mama." Jaehaerys assured you softly, taking your hand in his and your lip quivered.

"Oh, ym sweet, brave boy." You whispered tearfully, cupping his cheek with your hand.

"I'm okay too! Mama protected us like a knight!" Jaehaera beamed a smile up at you and seeing her innocent smile, so happy despite the circumstances made you heart jump with joy.

"Mama will always protect you. My most precious treasures." You whispered softly to them, kissing their forehead.

"My queen." Softly announcing herself, Medea, your personal maid walked into the room. "More letters from dragonstone."

"From my mother or my father?" You questioned, tone turning dry as you looked at her.

"....It's from Prince Jacaerys." She resplied, almost hesitantly.

You blinked at her before sighing. "Alright, I'll read it, please inform my husband of the letter. It's most likely unnecessary but I don't want to take any chances.

It had been a few hours later and the twins were drawing as you talked with Aegon softly. "You want to invite the people who nearly killed our children here?" He hissed at you, watching your reaction.

"No, not here. I'm going to dragonstone." You told him softly. "I'm not letting either of them around our children. I'm.... I'm not ready for that. I still can't sleep well yet, I fear for their safety still..." You whispered softly, looking back to make sure the twins weren't listening.

"Everything is safe now, my love. I won't let anyone hurt you or our children." Aegon whispered back, softer this time, cupping your cheeks.

"You read the letter Jace sent me. I don't want this wallowing in self-destruction to go on any longer, but I won't allow them here, so I'll be going to them. My mother is starving herself out of guilt. I don't want that."

Aegon thought you should leave them to rot, the whole lot of them really but he refrained from saying that (surprising that he has a filter, i know) and he sighed.

"If you're not back by nighttime then i'm coming to pick you up." Aegon replied and you smiled softly at him, leaning in and kissing him.

Jaehaera looked up before looking over at her twin. "Does this mean we're getting a younger sibling? I want a sister."

[whereireid]

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 | masterlist

pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader

series masterlist | avatar masterlist

wordcount: 2.5k — warnings: power imbalance? oral sex (m receiving), sexually naive reader, coercion, first time blowjobs, guidance, small mentions of drugging (side effect of the pollen) declarations of love, one sided pining, age gap, dead ronal, reader is Jake’s adult daughter | PSA: You’re responsible for your own media consumption. 18+ + under my #womnsfw tag. MDNI.

summary: To thank Tonowari for allowing your family into the Metkayina clan, you gift him a flower that you had picked from the forest before you fled your home. What you don’t realise is the the flower becomes toxic when near water, and Tonowari is experiencing all of the side effects: being left with a hard ache in his pants, and an overwhelming desire for relief.

—

“What is this, little one?” There’s a beat of hesitancy from Tonowari, whose light blue eyes scan your yellow ones in confusion. “I have not seen this before.”

“This is an irayo flower,” you tell him gently, your ears pricking upwards slightly as he clasps the flower in his big hands, examining it carefully. “It is a gift. I’m very grateful you’ve allowed my family to stay here.”

Tonowari clears his throat, satisfied with your answer. He holds the flower gently, appreciative of the pink and purple hues, his eyes flickering up to scan the horizon. He wonders how many flowers you must have picked before you fled your home. He can only imagine the pain you must be in, the grief - leaving your clan behind and everything you once knew, with nothing but flowers and trinkets to hold your memories.

“Thank you. It’s… lovely,” Tonowari nods his head in acknowledgement, trying ignore how his heart clenches in his chest as your lips quirk upwards into a gentle smile, relief washing over your features. “But it is getting dark, little one, and your father may be growing worried by your absence. JakeSully does not strike me as the type of man to appreciate defiance.”

You nod your head, eyes flickering between the Metkayinan leader and his flower, pleased that he accepted your act of gratitude. You turn heel, bidding him a meek farewell, before scurrying off to your family hut, excited to tell your father about your day.

—

Two days later, you are in Tonowari’s presence again, only this time, he does not appear pleased, and certainly does not look kind. There’s a stern look on his face as he approaches you - his lips are set in a thin line, and his body is tense, his eyes unwavering as they stare directly into yours.

“That flower is poisonous. You have gifted me a poisonous flower.” Tonowari declares, his lips curling in disgust as he shoves the flower in your face, before crumbling it into his hand. A wave of disappointment shoots through you as it falls to the floor, looking bent and pathetically broken. “I have been kind to your family, and this is how you have repaid me?”

You frown, shaking your head as you stare down at the flower. “No. You’re - you’re wrong - I gifted you an irayo flower. It is said to promote peace and to help bring comfort.”

“Comfort?” Tonowari seethes, so loudly that it sounds like a hiss, and your body stills when you notice his ears pinning threateningly against his head. “It has done the opposite of bringing me comfort. In fact, I am in incredible pain.”

Your own ears flitter backwards, your head bowing downwards in fear, and his heart pulls because he doesn’t wish to scare you, but he is terrible discomfort. Even simply suggesting to you that he is in pain is a massive understatement. Ever since being in possession of that stupid flower (which he couldn’t stop sniffing because it reminded him so badly of you) his cock had been aching. At first, he assumed it was because he hadn’t been around such a desirable women since Ronal, but that thought soon disappeared when the ache only got worse.

Even now, staring down at you, the ache overwhelms him. You overwhelm him. That stupid flower overwhelms him. His senses are heightened, and his heart is racing, and his cock is so hard, throbbing with a painful need.

And when you stare up at him meekly, trying to calm down your own rapidly beating heart, before muttering, “I’m sorry, Tonowari,” the helpless throbbing of his cock only gets worse. But then your eyes glimmer with hope, your hands pressing against his abdomen, and you ask, “is there anything I can do to help?”

“Would you? Would you help?” He asks, trying to ignore the desperate pulsing of his cock at your words, grumbling as you nod your head in time with his words.

“I feel obligated to help. It’s my fault you’re in pain, Tonowari,” you whisper, your hand cool against his hot abdomen, your placement friendly, nothing more, but Tonowari’s eyes glimmer with need as you splay your fingers across his skin. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

“It’s wrong of me to ask,” he breathes, his eyelids fluttering as you frown, shaking your head. You seem more than eager to help, trying to cool Tonowari down with the cold of your skin, and it’s helping. Your touch is easing the throbbing of his cock, and he knows that it’s wrong and that you’re Jake Sully’s daughter, but you gave him that damned flower.

You got yourself into this mess. “It is not wrong of you to ask anything of me, Tonowari. I have made you incredibly sick. What must I do to help you?”

It’s incredibly lucky that you’re by the coral shore, sheathed by tall, jagged rocks. It is pure, genuine luck that Tonowari has you here alone, covered by the natural environment of Pandora to save your dignity. “Get on your knees, little one,” he murmurs, his voice so low it resembles that of a growl. When you quirk your brow line up in confusion, he repeats sternly, “get on your knees.”

There’s a slight thrill which rushes to your core as you do what he says. Tonowari is so much larger than you - being of the Metkayina clan, he is built to withstand the conditions of water, and his body is much thicker than yours. His strong thighs flex as your fingers splay over them, your dark blue skin contrasting with the light of his own.

“You have no idea what pain your gift has burdened me with,” Tonowari grunts, and your eyes widen slightly as he begins to pull his loincloth to one side, slightly beginning to expose his length.

“Tonowari, what are you doing? This is not right,” you whisper from beneath him, trying to calm down your racing heart as he shushes you from above, a hiss rattling past his lips as he abandons his loincloth to the sandy floor.

“You said you would help. This is how you can do it.” He says simply, watching as your lips part in wonder, because you haven’t ever seen anything quite like it.

There have not been many suitors in your lifetime - none brave enough to face the wrath of your father - and you’d never even felt the touch of a man before, especially not in such a sensual manner. Yet here you are, knelt before Tonowari, his fingers softly trailing through your curls, your eyes set on his cock, which is so angry and hard that you feel somewhat afraid. A distorted gasp escapes your mouths as his cocks involuntarily pulses, his tip leaking with thick, white cum.

“I had no idea the flower had this effect on men,” You breathe softly, trying to calm the wavering of your voice as Tonowari’s hands guide your own to his cock. His strong fingers curl around yours, encouraging you to wrap your hand around his length, which you do, flinching as it pulses in your hand. “Does it hurt?”

The innocence in your voice and the your uneven breathing makes Tonowari’s eyelids flutter shut. You are just perfect - the right amount of innocent moulded perfectly with the right amount to please, and he wonders if he could even convince you to suck it. “It hurts more than you’d know. It’s unbearable,” he murmurs, coursing your hands up and down his length slowly, hissing as you slowly begin to take over his motions.

Tonowari is just tall enough to see over the rocks, onto his large stretch of land. The communal area is full, boasting with people celebrating over a successful hunt, and his heart tugs as he realises you’re practically stroking his cock in public. There’s hesitancy in your motions, but he doesn’t care - the smooth movement of your hand is enough for him, easing the once overbearing ache which pulsated through his cock every few seconds.

It’s more than obvious that you don’t know what you’re doing - your breath is teasingly fanning over his length, your lips almost close enough to brush over his tip, and it takes everything in Tonowari not to jut his hips forwards and force his length into your mouth. “I need more,” he tells you, his fingers playing at your hair, gently trailing through your curls, careful not to catch onto the strands too harshly. “Put it in your mouth. That will ease the pain greatly - it will almost completely get rid of it.”

You frown, unbelieving. The sandy floor is harsh on your knees, and your hands begin to slow their motion, stilling when Tonowari juts his cock closer to your face. It’s difficult to ignore the way your stomach flips with arousal when his jaw clenches as your tongue comes out to lick a wet stripe up the base of his cock. Your eyes are glued to his face, gasping softly as his nose crinkles when your tongue makes contact with his cock.

“Does this really help?” You ask, hesitant, eyes fixating now on his length, which stands hard and proud in front of you. “It seems like there may be better ways to go about this. Like - like you, giving yourself some relief.”

“I have tried to give myself relief,” Tonowari huffs from above you, his eyes narrowing condescendingly, as though he can’t believe your fiery tone. “That flower you gifted me does not allow for relief. I cannot relieve myself - where do you think I have been for the past two days? On a voyage, travelling the seas like a young warrior?”

You blink up at him, unnerving, his cock pulsating in your hands. His nostrils flare and his fingers tug at your hair softly. “No. I have been rutting against my bed like a recently mated Na’vi. The only relief I get is when I see you, little one,” he growls, his fingers now curling in your hair, a yelp slipping past your lips when he tugs you forwards. “So I advise that you put me between your lips and suck.”

There’s one final beat of hesitancy that passes through the air before you do what he says. Tonowari’s muscles flex under your fingers as you take him your mouth - your lips wrapping against his cock pathetically, a quiet whine leaving you as you begin to bob your head up and down his length. It’s intrusive, and it tastes funny - salty, but good, and he thrusts instinctively, your throat constricting as he does so.

And for Tonowari, it’s like the pain is melting away. The feeling of your tongue rolling up and down his length as you take him in your mouth eases the insufferable ache. Sure, his cock is still throbbing - desperate for uncertain relief, but he’s got what he wanted for now.

It would be wrong of him to complain. “Just like that, little one,” Tonowari hisses, his eyes flickering over to the camp, satisfied when he notices no lingering eyes. “Take in more. Come on, little one, I believe you can do it.”

The softness of his voice sends goosebumps shooting up and down your arms. Your stomach flips as you do what he says, gagging pathetically as you force your head down, your eyes pricking with tears, and it almost knocks the breath out of Tonowari’s lungs, his cock twitching in your mouth when tears begin to stream down your dark blue cheeks.

You want to speak but you can’t, and you feel so ashamed and embarassed that you don’t even try. Tonowari notices, but he doesn’t care - you’ve put him through enough pain already, and the shame you feel will soon wash away; instead, he’s focused on chasing his own high.

He’ll feel bad later on, when you’re defiled and confused, when he has to claim you as his mate. But not right now - no, he’s focusing on himself, and the feeling of your lips wrapped around his length is just perfect. Your tongue runs over every textured rib and every vein, working skilfully as though you’ve done this before.

And you haven’t, and you’re struggling, so Tonowari decides that enough is enough. His stomach flips slightly, and he tries to ignore the urge to grab your head and fuck your throat - he wants to be gentle with you, seeing how you’re such a sweet little flower, so he is. “I’m going to finish,” he grits out, his hands harsh on your head as he grips your hair, “and I need you to swallow, okay, little one? It will be salty, but it’s safe to eat.”

You blink your tears away, nodding softly in acknowledgement, flinching as Tonowari’s balls squelch against your chin, which is wet with your spit. There’s a split second he stills - a split second where the pain in the back of your throat from his intrusion eases - but it doesn’t last. He cums, and you grimance, unused to such a salty mixture in your mouth, trying to focus on the praises which spew from Tonowari’s lips.

“You have done so well, little one,” he tells you once you’ve pulled away, cooing at your teary eyes. “You have done perfect. All of the pain is gone. You’re a perfect little medic.”

You beam up at him, and he watches as your wet little lashes bat as he speaks to you. You cling onto every word, oblivious of just how pretty Tonowari finds you, happy to help the Metikyan leader at any chance. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“No. The pain is all gone.” Tonowari says, beckoning you to stand up with his open palm. You take his hand your heart straining in your chest as his fingers curl around your own. “Thank you for your help, little one. It is greatly appreciated.”

Defeat pulses through you as Tonowari begins to guide you back to the communal campfire, but his hand doesn’t slip from yours. There’s kindness behind the gesture, but also possession, too, and you try to ignore the way your heart sinks when you notice your father gazing at you from your hut.

“My family will be waiting for me,” you say, meekly, your hand slipping from Tonowari’s grasp defeatedly. Your fingers splay over his chest gently, kindly, and you murmur, “the flower becomes toxic when presented with water for too long. I presume that was your mistake. But if you find yourself in a similar position again, needing support, then I am always free to help you.”

Tonowari grins, his eyes flickering over towards your father, whose hands are now resting on his hips. “Go to your hut, little one. Your father is waiting - you are late for curfew.”

There’s something teasing in his tone, an edge of playfulness, and your cheeks flush as you stalk away from him, trying to ignore how your heart flips when you think back to minutes before, where you were kneeled in front of Tonowari whilst he pumped his seed into your mouth.

You shamefully wonder in excitement if he will ever do such thing again.

[heartless-tate]

High lady. | High Lord Eris X F reader

Summary: You used to love Eris- and now that’s all in the past. Or you at least that’s what you think. Until you receive an invitation to a dance from the high lord- Eris.

A/N: Hellooo my fireflies! I’ve been thirsting for Eris these past few weeks so why not write for him? I can’t believe I ever didn’t like this man 😫. Also for my male readers out there, if you’d like me to rewrite this or any of my other fics with a male reader, just ask! 💕

3k words

warnings: cussing, allusions to sex, use of y/n, slight angst, she/her pronouns

There were no words to describe your shock at seeing the royal invite to the ball. You weren’t high fae. You were a simple, low class librarian. Your name was written in beautiful, classy cursive. A handwriting you recognized immediately. This was handwritten by Eris. Eris Vanserra. Memories flooded your mind.

Running through the gardens, dogs barking behind you playfully. You didn’t have time to react before a body landed on you. Eris. He tackled you to the dirt, his hand was cradling your head to prevent it banging against the floor as he straddled your back. His hounds crowded the two of you, stomping and making noises with excitement.

“Got you little fox!” Eris announced, hugging you from behind.

“Not fair! You said you’d give me a head start.” You pouted. Eris’s laughter filled the air, creating a warm atmosphere. His arms wrapped around your middle and he pulled you into a hug. His embrace was warm and comforting in the cool autumn air.

Cauldron. That was so long ago. Eris was older by you than a long shot, but at that time, you were young. Nineteen years old. Young and innocent. He was also slightly more innocent then, playing with you and entertaining your young soul. Your face flushed a slight shade of pink, and you shook your head. You remember your crush on him. How could you not have one though? Everyone warned you. And you didn’t listen. He was everything a girl at that age would’ve wanted. Beautiful, handsome, smart, experienced, and a prince.

It was only when you discovered Eris was to be betrothed to some high fae daughter in his father’s court, did your little world come crashing down with reality. You were a peasant compared to him. And he likely saw you as nothing but entertainment. So you distanced yourself. You stopped accepting his invites to dinner with his family, you didn’t go out with him anymore. Of course, you couldn’t bear to completely cut him off. So you still would accept his occasional invite to walk with him in the forests with his hounds. He always told you they missed you. Now days, the walks were somewhat awkward. They happened every few months.

The last one was 6 months ago. You always thought you were doing better, you worked at a library, and cared for precious books. You lived in a relatively small apartment, but it was okay. You were grateful, you had a roof on your head and food on your plate. Things had changed since your last walk with him.

Beron was dead. On Eris’s wedding night, before the marriage had been officiated he had dueled Beron to a battle of death. Hundreds at the wedding had witnessed as Eris brutally slayed his father, and placed the crown on his head. Declaring himself as high lord. He released himself of the marriage, and granted his fiancé permission to marry her true lover. When the news escaped to the streets and you heard, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You realized, Eris would be to busy with his court to come on walks with you anymore. And that made you realize that your feelings weren’t gone. You had never gotten over him.

Tonight was a royal ball. You remembered Eris had always begged his father to let you attend the dances and balls, but Beron always refused. Saying trash like you should never be seen with royalty. Eris, stayed by your side though. He’d sneak from the dances and find you, and would dance in the silent night with you. And you had no idea why Eris was inviting you to this ball. Was it pity? Did he want you to experience something nice once in your life? What would you even wear? You certainly didn’t have royal attire.

You ripped open the letter with your nails, admiring the wax seal of a little fox on it. You opened it to a small card inside. Eris’s handwriting.

Little fox,

I’d be honored for you to attend the royal autumn ball tonight with me. A carriage will wait for you at your apartment at noon. Don’t neglect my dogs of your attention any longer.

Love, Eris.

You giggled. You felt like a school girl. You could feel the heat on your face. You admired his familiar handwriting. It was neat and lovely in every sense. A dried viola fell into your lap when you opened the card further. Memories of him teaching you cursive in the gardens made you smile. You stood, grasping the flower, and pulled out the small box you kept of every letter he had ever sent you. Whenever Beron would try to restrict him from seeing you, it didn’t stop him from convincing his maids or servants to get his letters to you. You hadn’t received a letter since his last request to walk with you. The box was filled with the dried flowers he’d always sent with them.

How could you go? What would you wear? You approached your closet. And then you remembered something.

“Eris- I can’t wear this. This is too- too, royal.” You squeaked, admiring the beautiful dress he had just gifted you.

“Wear it. It matches the suit my father made me wear. Let’s dance, little fox.” He purred, pushing hair out of your face. Once the dress was on, he pulled you close to him in the empty streets on the Autumn Court and guided you in a slow dance, uncaring of the lack of music. Or the fact he was missing a royal ball.

You didn’t waste time in finding the box tucked away safely under your bed, and pulling it out. You opened the box, staring at the gorgeous forgotten dress. You had only worn it the last night he had danced with you.

This would work. Looks like all the dances you learned from books would pay off tonight.

Music from the orchestra blasted loudly. You entered the throne room, slightly late. But nobody cared. You were fashionably late- you had to find a mask. It was a masquerade after all. And Eris’s letter was a little bit close to time so, nobody could blame you. People danced in sync all over the room, dresses of different colors swaying. It was so fascinating. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Sure, most of these people were stuck up cunts, but they were beautiful, and they knew it too. You walked down the the grand stair case, eyes greedily taking in everything.

And then they caught on him. He sat on the throne, auburn hair messy as if he had ran his hands through it more then once tonight. The crown on his head was slightly crooked, giving him an uncaring look as high fae of all kinds greeted him. His mask was the color of burning fire, gold lace trimming it. He seemed bored, uninterested in this whole party. And he looked every bit of the High Lord you knew he would be.

You didn’t have the guts to greet him. You couldn’t. He had invited you out of perhaps pity. There were clear boundaries you were sure of. And you knew approaching the high lord as a peasant would break every single one of those boundaries. You could already see high fae turning their noses up at you as you walked by.

You approached the giant banquet table, observing the various foods. They were all favorites of yours. Maybe you just had a fancy food taste. You grabbed a glass of fae wine off of a servant’s tray, happy to indulge yourself in high quality wine that you didn’t have to pay for. You decided to eat after you danced.

You turned to face the dance floor. You watched the first waltz come to an ends, couples departing to find new partners. You swirled your wine in your glass, smelled it and then took a taste. It was glorious. Aged, and woodsy. You figured the bottle was easily in the three hundreds. Who cared? You didn’t have to pay for it. You snickered to yourself.

“Dance with me?” A coy voice purred beside you.

You turned, seeing a gentle around your age. High fae. And he was still asking to dance. Odd. His mask was black with silver lace. He wore a simple black tux. His hair was a dark brown, slicked with gel. He had a warm smile. He was handsome. You took his outstretched hand.

“Why not?” You replied, setting your wine glass down on a servant’s tray. The male smirked with arrogance, and swooped you to the dance floor. Music begun, and he started the dance.

“I’m Silas.” He murmured, twirling you. You nodded, having no problem in keeping up with the complex strides of this particular dance.

“Y/n” You responded. His eyes glinted.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you.” Silas said. He started to move faster, as if seeing how well you could keep up. And you did. Having no trouble at all.

You smiled warmly. This man was nice. You could see yourself with him. But it felt like something was missing. Like a hole in your heart.

“Thank you, Silas.” You purred back, starting to lead the dance. You guided it into a more complex rhythm, going along with the music, but ultimately making it more difficult. You giggled when he tripped over his own foot but caught himself. He glared at you.

“You dance awfully good for a commoner.” He huffed out, twirling you again.

“Having trouble keeping up?” You taunted playfully, not caring of his snarky remark. He was embarrassed. You could tell by how his eyes were roaming the people that had take to watch the both of you dance, interested in seeing how long you could rule the dance floor, he was embarrassed. Your eyes roamed the people. You could feel a familiar sense of someone watching. Your eyes found Eris. He was no longer listening to the fae beside him. His amber eyes bored into you. When you caught eye contact, he smirked. His legs spread as he leaned further into his throne. His eyebrow was cocked, his long talons tapping against the throne.

Cauldron. You had forgot how breathtakingly gorgeous he was. And sexy. You felt your face flush.

A snarl distracted you from him. Silas’s hands clutched your hips.

“Do not mock me.” He growled quietly in your ear. The music’s rhythm went faster, and the dance along with it. The curious fae quickly started dancing again, embarrassed at how they were so mesmerized by a commoner.

You went to take another step, but Silas went crashing to the floor. You watched in shock as he slid on the floor, his eyes wide with fury and embarrassment. His face heated with embarrassment. He looked up at you mouth open as if he was about to blame you, but his eyes caught on something behind you. Or rather, someone.

You turned slowly to see the high lord standing in his full glory behind you. His sharp cunning eyes squinted and mouth pulled into a smirk. He observed the male on the floor before looking at the people around you both. Then his eyes landed on you. You were awestruck by him for a minute- before you realized he was royalty. You started to bow but an invisible force stopped you. Your eyes narrowed in confusion before Eris bowed in front of you.

The High Lord just bowed in front of you. You. A peasant. Before you could say anything he lifted his hand to you.

“Grant me the pleasure of a dance?” He said, loud and clear. Gods you missed his voice. Yours ears picked up multiple gasps of shock. You heard a start of a growl before seeing Eris’s eyes glare into Silas behind you. You heard Silas scrambling away, knowing his place. Eris’s eyes turned back to you. He stayed in a bowed down position, hand waiting for yours. You swallows your shock. So be it. This very much may be the last dance you and him share, and you would take it.

Eris smiled softly when he felt the familiar embrace of your hand on his. His hand wrapped around yours, completely swallowing it. You hadn’t even realized the music had stopped until now. He motioned with his free hand for it to begin again. Fae around you scampered to start dancing, but all of their eyes were on you. On him. And his eyes were on you. And that’s all that mattered.

His free hand moved to your hip, grasping it gently with respect. He slowly moved to start the dance, holding you close. You didn’t know what to say or do other than to follow his lead. You didn’t even realize your mouth was gaping open.

“Little fox, you look like a fish gasping for air.” Eris teased in your ear, and you quickly shut your mouth.

“Sorry-“

“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to me.” He replied, smoothly. Gods. It was as if you were 19 again and you were dancing in the empty village with him. His long nails drew circles on your hip as you slowly started ti advance in the pace of the music. He kept up with ease, and you the same.

“Your hounds miss you.” Eris murmured, leaning his head down enough to kiss your forehead. It took every ounce of self control to not accidentally trip in shock.

“My hounds? They’re not mine. They’re yours!“ You started.

“Yes, they are, little fox. You helped me save and raise Sadie’s pups. If it wasn’t for you most of them would’ve died during birth. They are every bit of yours as they are mine.” He responded, pulling you closer. You knew better then to continue this fight with him. He was stubborn. And you knew if you tried to refuse again you’d probably have a pack of hounds at your apartment door tomorrow- out of spite.

“Whatever.” You grumbled defeatedly, shaking your head. He chuckled. His laugh was deeper now. You could smell the envy of other women around you. You wondered if they knew there wasn’t anything to be jealous of.

“So..how’s being High Lord?” You asked, unsure of what to talk about now. Eris frowned with a playful pout.

“Lonely. I’m sure the hounds would agree too. But don’t worry about that. That’ll change very, very soon.”

You weren’t quite sure what Eris was getting on to now. He always spoke in riddles. You sighed. Before you could re-question him, he started talking again.

“How has my little fox been?” Eris divulged.

You blushed. He had always had a knack for that dumb nickname. You were glad people couldn’t hear your conversation. The current dance came to an end and Eris wasted no time in pulling you into another. He knew you would have no problems keeping up.

“I’ve been good.” You responded. You looked up at him. He had gotten taller. And bigger. Maybe it was the high lord magic that transferred to him after Beron died or something. You weren’t sure. But he towered over you, creating a comical size difference. He gave you a toothy playful smile. He was always so carefree around you. You loved it. You loved him.

“You look lovely in that dress.”

“You bought it.” You quipped back at him.

“I have such good taste don't I?” He countered.

You couldn’t help but giggled looking away. The music slowed and you knew this was coming to an end. And gods you didn’t want it to end. His eyes softened as if he too was thinking the same. He grasped you tighter, pulling you closer, your bodies left no space between each others. He leaned down and inhaled your scent.

“Gods. I missed you. I missed your scent. The way you laugh. Talking with you- I missed it all.” Eris started. He held you tighter when you tried to pull away, confused.

“Don’t move away. Let me enjoy this Y/n.” He whispered, head going to the crook of your neck as he slowed the dance, moving with rhythm to the orchestra’s music. You realized how desperate and clingy his hood on you seemed now. As if he had missed you as much as you missed him.

Fuck boundaries. You couldn’t care if you were a peasant compared to him right now. You let your inner thoughts win as you tightly clutched at him. You didn’t wanna let go of him. You let your head lean against his chest, relaxing into the calm and slow dance. You knew fae were gawking at you both. And neither of you cared. Eris seemed shocked at your return of his embrace. The music slowed to a stop, and so did you both in the middle of the floor. Eris gently pulled away, staring at you with such adoring eyes. A sharp contrast to who he was in front of these people. His eyes found their way to your lips. He looked back up at you, a pleading look on his face. You understood what he wanted.

His hand clutched at the back of your head as your lips met. His were soft. It was the most gentle and loving kiss. You couldn’t give a flying fuck about the jealous and envious fae. Not just women. Both males and females snickering in jealousy. Eris pulled away, eyes soft. He took in the sight of you.

He didn’t waste time in pulling you in for a second kiss. This one wasn’t gentle. It was hot. Aggressive. He kissed you as if there was a fire in his bones and you were the only thing that could sooth it. His teeth gently nipped and sucked on your bottom lip. You returned it. His hand clutched at the back of your head, talons tangled in your hair. His other one clutched at your hip and roamed to your lower back. Your hands clutched at the front of his dress shirt. When you pulled away gasping for air, Eris had the biggest smile on his face. His eyes roamed your face again. You lips were swollen and pink from him. You were panting and looking at him as if he was everything. And he returned the same look. He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw.

“Don’t make me miss you anymore. Stay with me. I’ll give you everything you could dream of. You can be my high lady. Anything- anything you want.” He begged, eyes pleading. You knew he wasn’t lying.

“Eris..”

Eris swear his heart stopped with the way you said his name. He’s positive he would die right here on this floor at your knees if you rejected him. You were all he ever wanted.

“You’re everything I could dream of.” You whispered to him. Eris took in a gasp of air, not realizing he had been holding it. Relief flooding his body. And then pure love. He grabbed your hand before you could say anything and guided you up the stairs the the throne. He turned, facing the crowd with you. His hand placed on your lower back.

The whole crowd of fae stared in confusion and shock. No idea of what was about to happen.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Eris barked. “Show some respect to your high lady.”

His voice boomed across the room, gasps eliciting from the crowd. And then, they all bowed. You stood in front of the throne, watching as they all bowed to their knees. The scent of fear and confusion flooded from the fae.

Eris smirked before turning around back to you. He knew that despite your anxieties, you were made for this. Just your presence demanded attention from others. He knew you were his. His eyes shined with pure male pride as he removed the autumn court crown from his head, and gently placed it on yours. You watched as he bowed down on his knee, paying respect to you. His queen. You relaxed. Hundreds of high fae all bowed down to you. Your man bowed down to you. You tipped your head up with a smirk.

Eris grasped your hand and kissed your ring finger with a possessive glare at it. As if promising himself it would soon have a ring around it. He stood, and walked you to the throne. He held your hand as you sat down on it, crossing your legs. He stood beside you, eyes peering to the fae. He looked to you. Gods you were gorgeous. He couldn’t help the possessiveness in him that filled to the brim at seeing you where you finally belonged. He had waited so long to be able to do this.

“The masquerade is over. Get out.” He growled to the people, his eyes never leaving you. He didn’t bother turning around to ensure the people left. He could hear them rushing to get out.

He was gonna fuck you on your rightful throne.

[ramonathinks]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓…. — drabbles, blurbs, one shots all dedicated to my one and only [18+ only] and thank you to my bae, sexy lexi ( @sugugasm ) for making this 😚 artwork is by @/karla_drawanime on insta! no minors, blank accounts or ageless blogs

guide -> 🍨— drabbles | 🧁 — one shots | 🍧 — longer fics | 🪷 — fluff | 🍦 — angst | 🍰 — smut

𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 — ahem, yall know how i feel about him 💔, yall know his death killed me several times over. so please don’t rush me on this, plus i am also in school and graduating this year so yeah✋🏾 but a lot of these are already started just not finished. some of the longerrr ones might be removed bc ramona is lazy @karla_drawanime

click here to join the taglist!

꒰ 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓰𝓸 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷 ꒱— “satoru, you’re way too pretty to be a boxer.” you know it and he knows it too, so why must he continue? | cw: sex, etc boxer gojo x reader (nurse in training) 🧁🍦🍰

꒰ 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓵 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻꒱ — male model gojo x makeup artist reader; that’s it, that’s the plot. | cw: banter, make outs and handjobs. 🍨🍰

꒰ 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓭 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻꒱ — one night stand results in a baby and when a member of the gojo clan spots you, she kidnaps your daughter. now you need to call your baby’s father, who doesn’t know he has a child. | cw: one night stand, accidentally pregnancy, angsty 🧁🍦

꒰ 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴꒱ — you’re a professor and satoru gojo is your student, you definitely shouldn’t be fucking him. | prof!reader x camboy!gojo 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 ꒱ — he’s a professional swimmer and you’re just a water girl | cw 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 & 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 ꒱— she’s broken a million hearts before and now he declares that he wants her to ruin his life as well 🧁

꒰ 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾 𝓰𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮꒱— after dating three girls at once, they decide to get revenge using a secret weapon: you 🧁🍰

꒰𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓬꒱ — gojo uses magic to score a date with you. 🍨🪷

꒰𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭꒱ -- you talk to yuuji about gojo. | cw slight angst, jjk spoilers, coping, therapy 🍦🍨

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼꒱ — “satoru, quick question… why is tumblr downloaded on your phone?” or you find out your guy best friend writes fanfiction. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓶꒱ — when gojo finds out that some women doesn’t orgasm from sex, he goes on a conquest to ask the previous girls he fucked — only he gets no replies, until you. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓼꒱— gojo sees you tie a cherry knot with your tongue and dies a little inside. | cw making out 🍨

꒰𝔀𝓮𝓽꒱ — the fraternity is holding a wet tshirt contest, only it’s the guys who’s shirts are wet. | cw 🍨

꒰𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴꒱ — gojo’s a popstar and you hate him, but now after meeting him you can finally see the appeal. | cw

꒰𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 (ft. nanami)꒱ — yes, it’s true: two believed to be dead sorcerers faked their deaths to be with their favorite girl, who’s in malaysia. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓶𝓻𝓼. 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓻꒱ — gojo is speeding and does what he does best to avoid messing up his perfect driving record. | cw oral 🍨🍰

꒰𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 ꒱-- after showing your friends a few text messages you received from an ai bot, you think they’d finally get off of your case of being the “lonely” friend but instead, they wish to meet him. and behold, he’s there in the flesh? 🍰🧁

꒰ 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 ꒱— dared to steal the boxers of the hottest guy on campus seems easy enough, until you find out it’s gojo satoru aka your brother’s best friend. | cw sex

꒰𝓰𝓸𝓭, 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓸𝓾𝓽꒱ -- (rivals to lovers) You’re a hard worker, always have been. You don’t deserve to be paired with the slacker that is Satoru Gojo, who thinks his good looks fame and charm will get him everywhere in life. Paired together in Fashion&Design to create a catalog of the best designs for an extravagant event by the end of their semester, You and Gojo must put aside their petty differences and come together to not only pass the class with high marks but also to get an internship working with two of the top design companies, this of course means nothing to Gojo but everything to you, will you be able to work together with him despite his attitude and get underneath that wannabe slacker exterior to undercover that there’s more there than meets the eye? Or will Gojo leave her on her toes until the end of the semester by forcing her to take on more than she can chew? | cw rivals to lovers, sexual tension, banter, slight angst, harsh family dynamics, eventual sex, making out, kissing, etc. 🍰🍧

꒰𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓘 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂꒱ — awkward, that was the way you were always described. but now freshly 19 and with a body to die for, you’re excited to finally go to your family’s old beach house to unwind for break. until you find out your sister brought her two idiotic best friends. (reader is shoko's step-sister!) 🍰🍧

꒰𝓹𝓾𝓼𝓱 2 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽 ꒱ — you promise gojo if he wins this race, you'll finally let him fuck. | cw: tba🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻꒱ — she’s a mean girl, he’s a nerd… is there really more to say? [based off: “you wanna do it?” “do what?” “fuck” tiktok audio] 🧁🍰

[corroded-hellfire]

Merry and Bright - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with the marshmallows to my hot chocolate @munson-blurbs 💝

Summary: It's Eliza's first Christmas, and even though she may not have a clue what's going on, the rest of the Munson family have fun introducing her to their traditions.

Note: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Festivus, and have a safe and cheerful whatever it is you celebrate!

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eliza’s usual 6am feeding has you and Eddie awake before the boys on Christmas morning for the first time ever. Their 11-week-old sister has them beat for the earliest riser this holiday. 

Both of you sleepy-eyed as usual, you and Eddie slip into your daughter’s nursery and close the door behind you so her cries don’t wake her brothers. As soon as she sees you, she calms down because she knows the routine by now. You show up when she cries? Eliza gets food. 

You walk over and peer into her crib, Eddie stepping up behind you and slipping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Eliza’s tears dry as she stares up at you and her father, her eyes wide like his. 

“Merry Christmas, Eliza,” Eddie says. 

“Happy first Christmas, sweetheart,” you echo. 

She clearly has no idea what you’re saying, but the way she’s looking at you makes you think that she’s thinking: Why are you just standing there smiling at me? Did you not hear the crying? Do you not know what time it is? Where is my food, lady?

You pick her up, clad in her green pajamas dotted with snowflakes and Santa Claus on them. The very same pajamas you, Eddie, Ryan, and Luke are all wearing. When you came up with the idea of matching family pajamas, you weren’t entirely serious until the boys backed you up. Whether they were truly into it or were just going along because they knew their dad would hate it, you have no idea. But Eddie grumbled and agreed, and once it’s just the two of you, declared that you are the only person in the whole world that he would do this for. 

Eddie goes to the window and pulls back the pink curtains with the white polka dots while you settle into the rocking chair with your baby. 

“Wow,” Eddie says as he looks outside. “It must’ve snowed the whole night. Everything is white.”

“Hear that, Eliza?” you coo as she begins to drink. “Your very first Christmas is a white Christmas. I think your brothers are going to have some fun outside later. Maybe we’ll go out and join them.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at you. “Does she have enough clothes to layer up and go outside in this?”

“Enough clothes?” you ask with a chuckle. “Between the baby shower, Max and Nancy giving us some of their old baby clothes, and what we and the boys bought? I think she has enough layers to look like the Michelin Man.”

“Oh, but look at those rolls,” Eddie says in that baby-talk that’s pretty rare for him. He grins and kneels down next to the two of you in the rocker. “She already looks like the Michelin Man.”

There’s no denying Eliza’s rolls around her wrists and knees and ankles are absolutely the most adorable thing ever. And there is most definitely a long list of adorable things about Eliza. 

Once Eliza is done eating, you burp her—and she gives you one her father is quite proud of—and change her diaper, then you head out into the hallway and it’s time to wake the boys. 

Eddie walks into Luke’s room and heavily plops down on the mattress, making the ten-year-old bounce. He’s usually a pain to wake up in the morning, but Christmas is an exception. 

Luke rouses with a sleepy laugh and rubs at his eyes. “Present time?” he asks.

“I dunno,” Eddie casually replies, shrugging his shoulders as though the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “You think Santa came this year? I haven’t checked the tree yet.”

“And why wouldn’t he come?” you ask from the doorway, holding Eliza. Luke glances over at you and grins; you return his gesture in a silent I’ve got your back. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is dead set on provoking him. “Oh, come on,” he scoffs, “Luke had to have made the naughty list.”

Luke playfully lunges at his dad, who catches him and swings him over his own body to let his son land on the floor. 

“Nice try,” Eddie says. “But you’ll never beat me.”

When you let out a snort of laughter from where you’re standing, Eddie raises his eyebrows at you. 

You innocently raise your shoulders and walk across the hall to Ryan’s room. He’s a bit easier to wake up than his younger brother, though he’s started to fit the teenage stereotype of sleeping in late.  

“Oh my God, it snowed! A lot!” you hear Luke shout from his room, which makes you chuckle. “It’s like Antarctica!”

You can practically hear Eddie playfully rolling his eyes. “Yeah, bud. We’ll see a penguin waddle by in a sec.”

Ryan is already awake from all the chaos. He’s slightly grumpy from his unconventional wake-up call, but he smiles as soon as he stumbles into the hallway and scoops Eliza from your arms. 

“Merry Christmas, baby sis!” he coos. You notice that his pajamas barely reach his ankles even though you’d only bought them a few weeks ago. “You ready to see what Santa brought this year?”

As anticipated, Eliza says nothing, but you unanimously agree that she’s excited for presents. 

The five of you head to the family room to see multiple gift piles under the meticulously decorated tree. 

Luke points at the biggest pile near the front, blue eyes wide. “Who’s that for?”

“Eliza,” you tell him as you ruffle his curls. “Mostly from you and Ryan, I’d wager.” 

The boys had wanted to spoil their new sister with heaps of presents; you had to continually remind them that she’ll quickly grow out of any clothes and won’t be playing with toys for a few more months. Eddie had to keep reminding them that they were technically spending his money on the baby. He’d found it nearly impossible to say no to them, his heart swelling with pride that he’d raised such thoughtful—if not rambunctious—young men. 

Luke and Ryan get down on the floor, while you and Eddie sit down on the couch with the baby. 

“So, this is how we do it, Eliza,” Luke tells his sister, as if she will grasp any of what he’s saying. “Ryan picks up a present, reads who it’s to and from, then he gives it to me, and I give it to whoever’s it is.” It’s a tradition they’d started before Luke learned how to read, but it’s stuck throughout the years. 

Eliza lets out a few puffs of air that Luke takes as confirmation that she understands.  

“She gets me,” he says simply.

“Or,” Eddie teases, “she can’t tell which one of you is Ryan and which one of you is Luke in these ridiculous matching pajamas.” 

The four of you take turns opening Eliza’s presents for her. Each time a new one is opened you try to get her attention to show it to her, but she rarely cares. Eddie’s curls start to be more of interest to her than anything anyone else is doing. 

Whenever Luke or Ryan open them for her, they get really excited and hype their sister up about whatever it is that she got.

“Wow, Eliza! Look at this dress!” Luke says as he picks it up and shows her. “It has Princess Ariel on it! I bet you’re going to love the princesses.”

“Ooh, Eliza! Look at these!” Ryan shakes the oversized keyring with the pastel-colored plastic keys hanging from it. “You can drive Dad’s car with these.”

“I’d let her drive it before I let either of you two menaces behind the wheel.”

Eventually, Eliza’s pile is depleted, and the boys open their own presents. Ironically, they were more enthused for Eliza’s, though their new Game Boys are an absolute hit. There was eventually a gift that Eliza seemed to be enthralled with though. The only thing that really caught her attention was the shininess of a new watch that Eddie got from Luke. She wanted to put it directly in her mouth, but Eddie stopped her as Luke warned that he wasn’t sure if it was water proof or not. 

Once presents are done, Eddie cleans up the variety of wrapping paper while you dress Eliza in her Christmas candy cane outfit. This outfit Eddie picked out. It seemed only fair since you practically forced him into the pajamas. 

It’s nap time for Eliza, so you settle her down while the boys go through their new gifts. The clothes they received only got a once over while the toys and video games were more heavily scrutinized. 

After Luke makes his rounds through his toys, he notices how much snow has built up on the ground.

“Daaaaad!”

“Whaaaat?” Eddie mimics as he walks in the room.

Luke walks over and gives his dad an over the top smile—a telltale sign that he wants something.

“Wanna go play in the snoooow?”

Eddie pretends to consider the question even though he’s been waiting for one of the boys to ask all day. He’s still a kid at heart and has been dying to get out there and mess around. 

“I guess I could go for kicking your asses in a snowball fight.”

“Luke and I can take you, old man!” Ryan says.

“Two against one? Huh. Babe? Wanna come be on my team?”

“Sorry, hot stuff,” you say as you stroll in from the kitchen. “Then who would be here to get little Miss Eliza up from her nap and get her all bundled up for the snow?”

Eddie suddenly looks a bit more serious. “She’s going to have to have a lot of layers.”

“Really? Because I was going to bring her out in just her diaper.” You can’t help but chuckle at Eddie’s protectiveness and lean up to press a kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry. She’ll have so many layers she’ll look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

The three men get all layered up and you get comfortable in a cozy chair near the window with a mug of hot chocolate to watch their shenanigans unfold. The boys go to one side of the yard and start making snowballs while Eddie goes to the other side. Your husband makes a little snow barrier that he can crouch behind before he starts making his snowball supply. 

“Teach these kids to call me old,” he mumbles to himself. 

Eddie quickly throws a snowball that hits the back of Luke’s head before he ducks back behind his wall. Eddie tries to control his laughter, but it keeps coming out in hot puffs of breath that he can see float away from his mouth.

“What the?!” Luke shouts, looking all around. “How’d he do that?”

Eddie chuckles to himself as he creates more ammunition. These amateurs. 

You look on in amusement as the three of them commence in all-out war. Eddie clearly gets the better of them, which you can tell he’s secretly proud of. Or not-so-secretly as he sticks his tongue out at them and taunts them. You’d swear you were the one in this relationship who is older by a decade, not him. 

After a while of running around, your sons and husband fall into a pile in the middle of the yard, obviously tired from so much exertion. You giggle as you watch them try and catch their breaths; Luke literally reaching up with his gloved hands to swipe at the condensation his huffing and puffing is causing. 

Luke is the first one up and starts tugging on his dad’s coat sleeve to pull him up too. Ryan is the next one up, then finally Eddie. It takes you a couple of minutes to figure out what they’re doing at first. It looks like they’re just moving piles of snow around with no rhyme or reason. 

Just as you’ve put together that they’re trying to build an igloo, you hear Eliza’s cries coming from her room. You get up from your warm cocoon on the chair and wander into Eliza’s nursery where she’s whining for attention.

“What’s all the fuss about?” you ask as you scoop her up. “It’s Christmas. Didn’t anyone tell you there’s no crying on Christmas?”

Eliza’s only response is a tiny sneeze that makes you giggle.

“God bless you. Now, let’s see how many layers of clothes we can put on you before you’re as good as bubble wrapped.”

When you open the back door, both you and your daughter bundled up tightly against the cold, the igloo looks like it had some architectural issues. Eddie pushes himself off the ground and comes over to the two of you. 

“Look at my girls. So cute in all your layers.” He presses a kiss to your nose, which gives you a shiver.  

“Your lips are freezing!” you exclaim, scrunching your face. 

“What do you expect?” Eddie asks with a laugh. “Igloo construction is very serious work that can only be done in these dire weather conditions.”

A few snowflakes fall onto Eliza’s pale pink coat, and she blinks at them in confusion before they melt away. 

“How is the construction crew doing?” you ask, nodding to the boys and their building, snow stuck to their gloves like Velcro. 

“Some structural problems,” Eddie shrugs. “Definitely inhabitable, but I don’t have the heart to break it to them.” He brushes his gloves onto his jacket and holds his arms out towards Eliza. “Come here, you.”

He takes her, snuggling her to his chest, and walks over to where the boys are working tirelessly. Crouching down, he lets Eliza’s legs hang down so her booted up little feet are on the snowy ground.  

“Hey, ‘Liza,” Luke chirps. “We’re making a house out of snow.”

“It’s not going too well,” Ryan adds under his breath. 

His brother scowls. “She doesn’t know that!” he hisses. 

Eliza’s eyes track the snowflakes falling down around her. 

“You like the snow, huh?” Eddie asks her, kissing the tiniest sliver of exposed forehead beneath her fuzzy hood. 

A chunk of the attempted igloo comes off in Ryan’s hands and he lets out a defeated sigh. “You wanna try some snow?” he asks Eliza just as you walk over to join them. He breaks off the snow into a small chunk and holds it up near Eliza’s lips. She only stares at it for a second before Eddie helps her lean in and she opens her mouth, just as she does when she’s trying to eat. 

The moment the coldness touches her lips, Eliza turns her head and curls her hands towards her face, making the rest of you laugh.

“Cold, huh?” Ryan chuckles, tossing aside the snow that Eliza hasn’t consumed. 

“All right,” Eddie says as he stands up, shifting his daughter in his arms. “I don’t know about you boys, but my butt is pretty numb. What do you say we head inside?”

Both boys whine, even though you can tell by their chattering teeth that they’re getting a bit cold themselves. 

“How’s hot chocolate sound?” you add.

That gets both boys up and headed towards the back door. Eddie walks ahead of you with Eliza, and you shuffle towards him so you can whisper in his ear. 

“If you can’t feel your ass, maybe I could feel it for you?” Your lips curl into a smirk. 

Eddie turns to face you. “Why, Mrs. Munson, how very naughty of you.” His kiss lingers in a way that tells you to expect a special gift the moment you two are truly alone. 

It takes a few minutes for everyone to peel off their wet clothes. Eddie and Ryan work on throwing the snow-soaked pants and socks into the dryer while you recruit Luke to help a freshly warmed Eliza into her swing in the living room so you can make hot chocolate. 

Luke buckles the straps over Eliza’s red and white outfit and turns the swing on the lowest setting. It gently sways her back and forth from left to right, which is usually her favorite thing in the world, but her tiny cries warn that she is not amused. 

“Hey, what’s the whining about?” Luke asks, frowning at his fussy sister. 

Eliza squeals and throws her little arms up as much as she’s able to as though purposely acting in defiance. 

Luke immediately springs into action. “No, no!” He scrambles for an idea. “Here, watch me, Eliza!”

He starts to do an overexaggerated jig in front of her and sings I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do. I don't want a doll, no dinky Tinkertoy. I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy!”

Eliza stops her crying and just stares at her older brother as he continues his impromptu performance. 

“I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs. Oh, what joy and what surprise. When I open up my eyes to see my hippo hero standing there!”

Watching the mini concert from the kitchen, you notice that Eliza is mesmerized by her brother; the look on her face reads, “what the hell are you doing?”, but you’re not going to question whatever it is that’s quieted her down—even if it means being subjected to one of the most irritating holiday songs in existence. 

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do. No crocodiles, or rhinoceroseses. I only like hippopotamuseses. And hippopotamuses like me too!”

Successfully distracted, the baby makes spit bubbles and flaps her arms. Luke feels that he’s done his job, and he gives a small bow. 

Luke finishes imagining the applause his baby sister so obviously wants to give him when Eddie comes into the living room carrying two mugs full of steaming hot chocolate.

“Hey, Timberlake. Here’s your drink.”

You and Ryan are right behind him as you carefully balance your own drinks, giggling at each other as you check on one another’s progress from the corner of your eyes. It’s almost a game to see if one of you will spill a few drops before the other.

Luke plops down in the chair you had been sitting in while watching the boys outside and Ryan settles in on the loveseat. You take advantage of your husband sitting alone on the couch to cuddle up to his side. Eddie settles one arm over your shoulders and brings his Metallica mug to his lips with his other hand. Taking care to hold your “Meowy Christmas” mug dotted in adorable kittens in both of your hands, you rest your head on his shoulder. Your eyes admire the cup that Luke gave you last year for Christmas before they drift over to your daughter comfortably rocking in her swing. 

Her large eyes move from family member to family member, as if wondering what you’re all doing. You imagine her holding her own little mug-shaped bottle to join in with the rest of you and you let out a soft giggle at the thought.

“What, baby?” Eddie asks softly.

“Nothing,” you say with a shake of your head. “Just look at our little girl. Watching all of us.”

Eddie smiles when he looks over and his daughter’s gaze locks on his. He feels as if one more ounce of happiness was pumped into his heart it would explode. The room is still and quiet, but Eliza continues to look on as the four of you warm up by drinking the confectionary delight. 

By the time the four of you have emptied your mugs, Eliza is fast asleep in her swing. Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, and you take his empty cup as he rises to his feet. He walks over, slowly stops the rocking, and scoops Eliza up. She lets out a little sigh as Eddie resituates her in his arms; her classic sign of contentment when she knows she’s safe in her daddy’s care. He carries the sleeping infant into her room and lays her down in her crib. 

“Sweet dreams, sweet pea.”

An hour later, the buzzer rings. 

Wayne’s on the other side of the door, two pizza boxes in hand. Since Eliza is still so little and requires almost all of your energy, there isn’t a fancy meal this year, but no one seems to mind. 

The Munson patriarch sets the food on the table, opening the boxes to reveal pepperoni & green peppers atop each pie. “Christmas colors,” he announces proudly. 

Eddie pops a Christmas album into the CD player as you all gather around the table and eat. By some miracle, Luke and Ryan manage to take their slices without fighting over the bigger one, and you thank your lucky stars. 

No sooner do you sit down and lift your own slice to your lips, Eliza’s cry bleats through the baby monitor. You instinctively start to stand, but Wayne puts a gentle hand out to stop you. 

“I got it,” he assures you, walking into the room where Eliza lays in her crib. 

“You’re the cutest candy cane I’ve ever seen!” you hear him exclaim as he lifts her to carry her back out to the kitchen.

He takes his seat next to Luke, who holds his slice in the baby’s direction, a glob of sauce plopping onto the floor. 

“Eliza, you want some pizza?” He pretends to bring it to her mouth before he pulls back and cackles. “Aahh, just kidding!”

The tiny baby manages to stay awake for the entirety of dinner, but by the end of dessert, she’s starting to get cranky again. 

When it’s time to clear the table, Eddie stands up and stretches his arms high over his head. And so what if your gaze drifted to the pale expanse of his stomach that it showed? 

“Come on, men,” Eddie says. “Let’s get this place looking ship-shaped.”

“You sure you weren’t the one in the military?” Wayne asks with a husky laugh. He hands you the baby who is only getting fussier by the second.

“I think it’s time for some jammies,” you say as you hold her against your chest. Her whines and whimpers in return sound like a disagreement, so you can only imagine what her backtalk will be like when she can speak. 

“Not fair,” Luke says with a huff as you move to leave the dining room. You turn around and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What’s not fair?” you ask.

“You don’t have to clean,” he says as he picks up the bowl of mashed potatoes that is now so empty it looks as if it’s been licked clean. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was, honestly. 

“Do you want to try and get Miss Crankypants into her pajamas? Then to bed?” you ask.

“No,” Luke admits with a groan and brings the empty dishes into the kitchen.

“That’s what I thought,” you say to Eliza as you carry her down the hall to her room. 

It’s time for the annual tradition of watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas, but Eliza still hasn’t gone to sleep. You’re not sure how long you’ve been trying to soothe her to sleep, but it feels like it’s been hours. You tell the guys to start watching it without you as you start to walk throughout the house with your fussy daughter in your arms. The rocking motion of walking tends to have a calming effect on her. Hasn’t worked so far, but it’s worth another shot.

“Come on, sweetie,” you beg her. “You had a big day. You must be so tired.”

She continues her protests, so you hold her closer to your chest, her green elf pajamas soft in your hands. On your fourth lap of the house, you pass by the living room again but there’s music coming from the television this time.

Eliza stops her fussing at the sound. The scene ends and Eliza starts to act up again, so you take another lap around the house. Once more back at the living room, there’s music and again she calms down. 

“Hmm…” you hum to yourself.

Testing your theory, you sit at the edge of the couch and keep your firm hold on Eliza. The music continues as Eliza calms all the way down. This time, she’s calmed enough that you can sit back on the couch and enjoy the show with your family. Every time a scene with music comes on, Eliza gets happier and even gives you a smile that you’re pretty sure had nothing to do with gas.

“You like the music, huh?” you ask your daughter softly. 

“Making her daddy proud,” Eddie says, throwing a wink your way. 

Not much later, Eliza falls asleep, and it allows you to watch the rest of the program with your family. When it’s time for bed, the boys each get up and press a soft kiss to their sister’s forehead. Once they’ve gone to brush their teeth, you bring Eliza into her room, Eddie right behind you. You gently lay her down and Eddie snakes his arms around your waist from behind. Both of you look down at your daughter, her little pink lips parted as her chest moves up and down with her steady breathing. The soft downy hairs on her head are starting to get a curl to them and you smile at the thought of her having hair like your husband.

Eddie presses a kiss to your cheek and rests his chin on your shoulder so he can look down at the sleeping girl as well.

“We made a cute baby,” Eddie says softly.

“The cutest,” you agree. 

[artandthebible]

Naomi and Ruth

Artist: Evelyn De Morgan (English, 1855–1919)

Date: 1887

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Naomi and Ruth

The story of Naomi appears in the Bible in the book of Ruth. Naomi lived during the time of the judges. She was the wife of a man named Elimelech, and they lived in Bethlehem with their two sons, Mahlon and Kilion. Naomi’s life illustrates the power of God to bring something good out of bitter circumstances.

When a famine hits Judea, Elimelech and Naomi and their two boys relocate to Moab (Ruth 1:1). There, Mahlon and Kilion marry two Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth. After about ten years, tragedy strikes. Elimelech dies, and both of Naomi’s sons also die, leaving Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah widows (Ruth 1:3–5). Naomi, hearing that the famine in Judea was over, decides to return home (Ruth 1:6). Orpah stays in Moab, but Ruth chooses to move to the land of Israel with Naomi. The book of Ruth is the story of Naomi and Ruth returning to Bethlehem and how Ruth married a man named Boaz and bore a son, Obed, who became the grandfather of David and the ancestor of Jesus Christ.

The name Naomi means “sweet, pleasant,” which gives us an idea of Naomi’s basic character. We see her giving her blessing to Ruth and Orpah when she tells them to return to their mothers’ homes so that they might find new husbands: she kisses them and asks that the Lord deal kindly with them (Ruth 1:8–14). But her heartache in Moab was more than Naomi could bear. When she and Ruth arrive in Bethlehem, the women of the town greet Naomi by name, but she cries, “Don’t call me Naomi... Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me” (Ruth 1:20–21). The name Mara means “bitter.” The cup of affliction is a bitter cup, but Naomi understood that the affliction came from the God who is sovereign in all things. Little did she know that from this bitter sorrow great blessings would come to her, her descendants, and the world through Jesus Christ.

Ruth meets a local landowner, Boaz, who is very kind to her. Naomi again recognizes the providence of God in providing a kinsman-redeemer for Ruth. Naomi declares that the Lord “has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead" (Ruth 2:20) Seeing God’s hand in these events, Naomi encourages Ruth to go to Boaz as he slept in the threshing floor in order to request that he redeem her and her property. Naomi’s concern was for Ruth’s future, that Ruth would gain a husband and provider.

Naomi’s bitterness is turned to joy. In the end, she gains a son-in-law who would provide for both her and Ruth. She also becomes a grandmother to Ruth’s son, Obed. Then the women of Bethlehem say to Naomi, “Praise be to the Lord, who this day has not left you without a guardian-redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel! He will renew your life and sustain you in your old age. For your daughter-in-law, who loves you and who is better to you than seven sons, has given him birth” (Ruth 4:14–15). Naomi was no longer Mara. Her life again became sweet and pleasant, blessed by God.

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

Warning: This chapter will contain violence, as well as inappropriate language and adult sexual content. Minors should not read or interact with this chapter or this fanfic.

TWO FOUR (+18)

THREE (+18)

The horse continues its steady trot, the rhythmic sound of hooves filling the silence between you and Prince Aemond. Since you had declared that only he or a dragon could take your life, neither of you had spoken. The images of the ragged commoners still haunt your mind, the blood of one of them staining your skin. The scent lingers, almost as though it corrodes your very soul—if there is any soul left to corrode. Aemond, in contrast, remains unnervingly calm, as if such violence is second nature to him.

"When I was younger, my mother taught me to always adapt. Kings and princes like you were not born to be contradicted by people like me. My mother was a woman who adapted well, and that is how I was conceived. The man who fathered me sought a replacement for his dead wife, and my mother shaped herself to meet his desires." You can sense that your words mean little to Aemond Targaryen, yet for a fleeting moment, you feel compelled to share them. Perhaps it is the honesty, or perhaps the looming realization that this might be your final journey—the last stretch before the war claims you. It has never been clearer that your end is near, whether by the hand of a one-eyed prince or the flames of a dragon. The manner of death is inconsequential now; it is merely a matter of time.

"My silence must have been misunderstood by you, gundjabo. I have no need to hear your lamentations." The prince’s low voice carries a hint of irritation as he lets out a frustrated grunt. You exhale sharply, frustration building within you. There is something dreadful about being condemned to a war that is not your own, dragged along by a man indifferent to your very existence—one who does not even deign to bed you.

"Unless you plan to kill me for speaking, I shall continue. These may very well be my final words, for all I know," you say, your tone steady but defiant. "As I was saying, I always knew my fate would lead me to the brothel, as a whore. But when the man who fathered me came to weep over his legitimate children, I discovered I was a bastard of someone of importance. And that I had a sibling who bore a resemblance to me. That is why I speak High Valyrian, for I was meant to be the perfect replacement for someone’s trueborn daughter. Tell me, Your Highness, how did you know I was a bastard?"

Your boldness stems from a desire to have your story heard, to have someone in this world know the truth of your existence. And you are certain Aemond will not kill you—not before delivering you to the dragon.

"What gave you the notion that I would be inclined to engage in conversation with you? Know your place, Y/N," Aemond snaps, turning toward you with a sudden, fierce movement, as if poised to strike. His single eye fixes on you, sharp and unwavering, and there’s a dark satisfaction in the way he watches your reaction. He seems to revel in the way his abruptness unsettles you, savoring the fear or hesitation he provokes.

"What led you to believe that I would be disposed to engage in conversation with you? Understand your position, Y/N." Príncipe Aemond pivots abruptly to face you, his single eye piercingly fixed upon your countenance. His demeanor is one of restrained menace, and he appears to take a grim satisfaction in the disquiet he has stirred within you.

The horse comes to an abrupt halt, causing your body to jostle against Prince Aemond Targaryen, who seems increasingly agitated. He dismounts with a brisk movement, signaling the end of your journey by horse. Before you lies a solitary figure, stationed by a boat, standing guard with an air of grim duty.

"My esteemed Prince Aemond, I present to you what you have requested. Should you follow the prescribed route, you shall arrive at the location where it has been reported that your future dragon was sighted. I wish you a successful and prosperous journey." The peculiar man, clearly seeking to flatter the Prince, elicits a noticeable expression of disdain from him.

"Then your presence here is no longer required. I suggest you keep your lips sealed regarding my business here. Additionally, worm, should I fail to find the 'safe' path to the dragon, be aware that you will face a most unfavorable encounter with Vhagar." You are unable to observe their exchange directly, as you are preoccupied with dismounting the horse, given that Aemond appears to be indifferent to your presence at the moment.

"My prince, I would never lead you into an ambush. I wish you a successful journey and hope you acquire the dragon," you finally manage to dismount from the horse, nearly falling onto the ground. The peculiar man watches you with a smile, seemingly amused by your misfortune, while Aemond, though visibly irritated, remains unyielding. His irritation persists even in moments when you are not actively provoking him.

"Rise from the ground at once, gundjabo. If this is your feeble attempt to gain my pity, you are failing. And as for you, Larys, you should have already removed yourself from my sight. Of course, if you hold no regard for your life, you are welcome to remain." Prince Aemond's voice was laced with irritation, the impatience in his tone unmistakable. The peculiar man, now silent, awkwardly retrieves the horse you both arrived on and departs clumsily, leaving you and the prince alone once more.

Yet you remain on the ground, lost in contemplation of your wretched circumstances, bound to the will of Prince Aemond. Your gaze drifts away from him, drawn instead to the waters that flank the path to Dragonstone. The sight of the water, so free and fluid, captivates you. It seems to beckon, offering a silent sanctuary, a world away from your current plight. It had been so long since you had been near the water, and now it appeared almost sacred, a reminder of peace in a life devoid of it. Though you hear Prince Aemond’s voice, it feels distant, as if muffled by the pull of the serene waters. In this brief moment, it is as though you and the water are the only things that exist. You rise, however; not to obey any command but to delight in the water. Slowly, you begin to strip away your clothing, letting the fabric fall carelessly to the ground as the cool wind brushes against your bare skin. A deep sense of freedom, unfamiliar and intoxicating, washes over you. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you taste the sweetness of liberation, a brief escape from the chains of your fate.

It does not matter that Prince Aemond will see you in such a vulnerable state, nor does it concern you that his inevitable anger will rise once more. His threats of death hold no sway over you in this moment. As the last of your garments slips from your body, you stand, unburdened and untamed, indifferent to the consequences. For now, you are part of the wind, the water, the air—untouchable by any prince or king.

"What do you think you are doing? I did not bring you here to gaze upon your nakedness, nor for any such entanglements," Prince Aemond snaps, his voice sharp as steel, while his hand grips your arm, halting your movement toward the water. His touch, firm yet restrained, feels different for the first time—no longer cold or harsh, but strangely… grounding. Though his grasp is strong, it does not hurt you. You turn your gaze to him, your lips curling into a relaxed, almost defiant smile. The tension between you, once a barrier, now seems to shift subtly, as though something unspoken lingers between the two of you.

"It seems, Your Highness, that you are under the mistaken impression that I have any interest in such entanglements with you," you say, your voice soft yet pointed, as you step closer to him. "If it appears otherwise, you are gravely mistaken. You have made it abundantly clear that you are here as my possessor, not my lover. But the blood on my skin reeks of decay, and if I am to face a fatal destiny by your hand or another, at the very least, grant me the decency of being cleansed for it. I do not believe I am asking for much." Though your tone is measured, almost submissive, your gaze remains sharp, as if daring him to challenge your words. Yet beneath that facade of defiance, there is a clear falsehood—you wouldn't mind if he took you here, on the cold, unforgiving ground. The threatening look in your eyes, too, is a lie; in truth, at this moment, you pose as much danger to the prince as a child would. You know this, and so does he.

"Ao kostagon jikagon, gundjabo," Prince Aemond finally responds, his voice carrying an edge of authority. As he speaks, you offer him a faint, resigned smile. Without another word, you run toward the water. The cold is biting, eliciting a drawn-out gasp as you immerse yourself, but as you cleanse your body with the water, you feel the burdens you have been carrying begin to lift. When you look at Prince Aemond, he is naked; coming towards you. For a moment you can't believe what you're about to witness. Or rather do.

"Your excitement at my presence here is a disgrace to yourself. I have no intention of expanding the bonds of our relationship, gundjabo." Prince Aemond speaks as he steps closer and closer. He certainly wants to dispel any lust that is taking hold of you.

"Tell me, Your Highness, are you so afraid of fucking me?" In moments of the prince's presence, the cold that was taking over your body turned into heat; burning deep within your soul. The prince smiles mischievously as if he liked her question; even if in a diaceous way. Your gaze then shifts to Prince Aemond's member, which appears to be quite erect for a cock that isn't considering entering you.

"If you must know, there has been no fear under me for some time. What I have, is caution. You think I don't notice that your desire for me lies in the need to manipulate me," Aemond approaches you quickly, his hand then roaming over your face, almost as if he was scrutinizing you. "A whore like you must be as thirsty as any other to have the privilege of being taken by me," Prince Aemond stands directly behind you, his cock lightly touching your ass. As his hand moves from a light, affectionate touch to your face and moves downwards, touching your neck with a certain dexterity, in a firm way.

"Dear prince, my intentions towards you are the most pleasurable possible. What risk can a mere prostitute bring you?" What you say comes out of your mouth like a whisper, as half of your concentration has already been lost. Instinctively you turn around, still feeling Aemond's hand on your neck. A drawn-out moan is released by Prince Aemond, who holds your breasts tightly with both hands.

"Say, gundjabo, would you like me to take you here, in the middle of the water? That I would use these hands to fuck you? To satisfy you?" As Prince Aemond aggressively touches your breasts, you let out somewhat scandalous moans. It looks like Aemond's hands are massaging your breasts in a teasing way.

"By your hands, Ñuha Dārilaros; I would accept any fate. Death or pleasure, whatever you decide; it will be to my advantage." You drawl, trying to seduce Aemond. Between your legs, if there was already water before; now everything was wet. Your pussy is ready to receive Prince Aemond's cock. And then abruptly, he grabs your ass firmly, pulling you towards him. Almost like climbing a mountain, you climb up Aemond, wrapping your legs around his waist. Once you secure yourself around Aemond, It's like your pussy is throbbing just from feeling his cock pressed lightly beneath it. In a desperate act, you pull Prince Aemond's face to yours, kissing him. A thirsty kiss, as if there was an uncontrollable thirst within you and only Aemond Targaryen's lips could quench it. At first he seems apprehensive, controlling his tongue so as not to lose his rational side even in a simple kiss, but as soon as you press a little on his cock, which is already hard, he gives himself over to the kiss; body and soul. The prince's long fingers firmly gripping the top of your ass, creating a pleasant friction between your body and his. And just as it seems like he's finally going to give himself to you, he pulls away from your lips and drops you into the water.

“Certain privileges must be earned before they are received so impulsively, gundjabo. Tame the dragon we are about to seek, prove yourself indispensable to your King, and you will gain some worth in my eyes. Until then, savor this moment. There may not be another opportunity for you to experience such freedom again in the future.” Prince Aemond speaks as he holds your face up after you finally manage to catch your breath from being thrown into the water. You are seething with anger inside—frustrated by the way the one-eyed prince has treated you, by the inability to grasp the full magnitude of his presence, and by your own intense yearning for him that has made you lose all sense of absurdity.

In silence, the prince exits the water, gathering his garments from the ground and donning them once more. You watch him attentively, struggling to suppress the anger that is consuming you. Fortunately, as the desire ebbs away, your good sense returns. With a sense of urgency, you leave the water and dress yourself. No words are exchanged between you and Prince Aemond during the journey to the boat, nor during the voyage to Dragonstone.

Certainly, you had to be discreet, feigning the role of commoners while you followed Prince Aemond to the location where he hoped to find his potential dragon. The journey took hours, leading you to a nearly forgotten place amidst a quiet fishing village. Against the prince's will but driven by strategy, you had to repeatedly obstruct the view of curious onlookers who tried to recognize Aemond. Through a bit of your own charm, you managed to divert their attention, effectively becoming his shield. In the tempestuous atmosphere, you finally come upon the dragon. It is enormous, with black scales that blend into the shadows. Its eyes are closed, indicating it is resting.

“Your Highness, I cannot... Find another bastard,” you say upon seeing the dragon so close. The fear of death outweighs any sense of duty at that moment. You step back, trying to distance yourself, but Prince Aemond grips your arm with a harshness. This time, he pulls you close with aggression.

"Swallow your cowardice, go over there, and claim that dragon. And if this seems like a request to you, know that it is an order, and should you disobey, you will die by my sword, gundjabo." Prince Aemond threatens, looking at you with impatience. His menacing tone frightens you somewhat, but as a final act of bravery, you grab the dagger from the Prince’s waist and point it at him.

"Your Highness, regrettably, I must clarify that I have no intention of obeying you. Let me go, and I assure you, you shall never hear of me again," you say, your voice trembling somewhat, though not from cowardice. The thought of death, at this moment, feels unsatisfactory to you.

"Go to that damned dragon and claim it for yourself, or you will die here. There is no other option, gundjabo. My patience is wearing thin, so drop this dagger and go now!" Prince Aemond bellows with all his might, his demeanor fierce and ready to strangle you if necessary. As you remain indecisive, contemplating your options, Prince Aemond suddenly throws himself at you, causing both of you to tumble to the ground. He grips your neck tightly, while you still hold the dagger against him, the weapon trembling in your hand.

"Your Highness, you are squeezing my neck...with a certain unnecessary firmness." You speak between attempts to catch your breath as the air escapes you. Aemond's blank stare tells you he might kill you. So while you still have strength, you hold the sharp dagger against the neck of Aemond Targaryen, who is lying on top of yours. He only seems to notice that he is hurting you more than necessary when you cut him, more specifically cut a small but significant part of his neck. And then his hands lose their grip on your neck and his attention seems to be elsewhere. It could be that the pain from the cut is bothering him, or the fact that he is bleeding and the blood is dripping down your face. The taste of Aemond's blood is surprisingly sweet, but you worry that you've seriously injured him.Then you drop the dagger you were holding and look worriedly at Prince Aemond. He removes his hands from your neck and slowly holds both of your hands at the height of your head.

“Do you feel powerful for having managed to make me bleed, gundjabo?” Prince Aemond’s words are laced with a cruel edge, as if your injury to him has only heightened his thrill. The dangerous proximity of your faces is palpable. However, before you can respond, the dragon stirs and awakens. You both quickly disentangle as you hear the dragon's roar, followed by a burst of fire that sends a shiver down your spine. It may seem like madness, but you could swear the fire that it spewed was green, an unusual color for dragon flames. The dragon's eyes are also green. It appears to be the most magnificent dragon you have ever seen.

"What should I do, Your Highness?" you ask desperately as you feel the hot breath of the dragon's nostrils blowing over you and Aemond. You recall the commands for summoning dragons that your father taught you, but without knowing the dragon's name, it will be impossible to call it.

"Command him, tell him to calm down; if he obeys you, he will be your dragon. His name is Cannibal. I suggest you act quickly before he kills us, gundjabo," Prince Aemond commands authoritatively as he gives you instructions. After a moment of effort, you take a few steps forward, under the watchful gaze of the dragon.

“Naejot Māzīs, Canibal,” you say, approaching the dragon as you notice your hands stained with Prince Aemond’s blood. Despite the bloodied state, you persist in your attempt to claim the dragon. “Lykiri, Canibal. Nyke daor dangerous. Sȳz taoba.” You raise your blood-stained hand towards the dragon, which responds with another roar. Despite the force of the roar nearly causing you to fall, you stand firm, determined to show the dragon that it will have a fearless—if not reckless—rider. The dragon spreads its wings and positions itself in front of you, undecided on whether to accept or attack. It then unleashes a powerful flame into the sky.

You close your eyes tightly, resigned to your fate, but also emboldened by the attempt to claim a dragon, an unprecedented advance from your life as a bastard prostitute. As you brace for the dragon’s attack, it approaches, waiting. You glance back at Prince Aemond, who stands behind you, observing. He gestures for you to place your hand on the dragon. With a deep breath, you gently and slowly reach out to touch the dragon’s face.

As soon as your hand makes contact, a powerful surge of energy envelops you. Your eyes shut again to fully experience the bond forming between you and Cannibal. Though it feels like mere seconds, you sense that more time has passed. Prince Aemond’s voice reaches you through the haze, calling you several times. When you finally open your eyes, both yours and the dragon’s meet in unison. Turning slowly, you face Prince Aemond, who appears astonished. You and Cannibal now stand united, as one.

"Congratulations, gundjabo. You have just bestowed a significant advantage upon your King in this war," Prince Aemond declares, his expression betraying genuine satisfaction. Yet, there is no joy within you. The gravity of your new reality is apparent: you are now irrevocably entangled in a conflict that, though not of your own making, could very well claim your life. Moreover, your evident lack of experience with dragons only compounds the danger you face. Officially, your existence has been altered beyond recognition.

TO BE CONTINUED

GLOSSARY

Ao kostagon jikagon - You can go

Gundjabo - Prostitute

Ñuha Dārilaros - My Prince

Naejot Māzīs - Come Forward

Lyriri - Calm down

Nyke - I

Daor - Not

Sȳz - Good

Taoba - Boy

[motions1ckn3ss]

'I Cannot Heave My Heart Into My Mouth’: Shakespeare and Alice Winn’s In Memoriam

or, an academic blog post i wrote for an english literature assignment as part of my shakespeare module at uni. a huge thank you to @jovienna for proofreading and providing the most helpful suggestions, i'm very proud of this piece and i just got the mark back for it today and i received a 2:1! enjoy :)

‘But since she pricked thee out for women’s pleasure, / Mine be thy love and thy love’s use their treasure’ (Shakespeare 13-14): a declaration of queer love, not just in Shakespeare’s Sonnet 20, but also in Alice Winn’s debut novel In Memoriam, published in 2023. Throughout the novel, the character of Ellwood quotes various poems with famously homoerotic undertones as a way of professing his love for Gaunt, a fellow student at the boarding school they attend, in an era of repression and illegality concerning homosexuality. The works of Shakespeare become some of the most notable amongst this number.

Shakespeare’s Sonnet 20 depicts desire for a man that he cannot have. The love interest of the poem, being a man, must be for the pleasure of women only, as Nature has decided. As the closing lines express, all Shakespeare can offer the man is his own love. The meaning of these lines are certainly not lost on Ellwood, and to the regret of the poet-speaker who is resigned to Platonic love (Mahony 70), writes them ‘in pencil on the wall above Gaunt’s bed, and Gaunt had hoped they meant something.’ (Winn 42).

Despite this, Gaunt refuses to let himself believe this possibility, though Ellwood assumes that he simply does not reciprocate his feelings – ‘anyway, Gaunt already knew that Ellwood loved him. Because of the sonnets.’ (Winn 113). More than three hundred years after the publication of his sonnets, Shakespeare’s words connect with Ellwood and provide him with an outlet. Ellwood deliberately selects Sonnet 20 to ensure Gaunt knows of his love in a way that stops him ‘going completely mad and confessing wild, undying love for him, which he knew would have made Gaunt extremely uncomfortable.’ (Winn 113). Shakespeare puts pen to paper to write of his own unrequited love for another man, and Ellwood follows in his footsteps.

These closing lines of Sonnet 20 are not the only writings of Shakespeare referenced in In Memoriam, with King Lear arguably creating an even more heartfelt moment between the two men. The First World War, in all its tragedy, does bring Ellwood and Gaunt together, with the two only acting on their desires amidst the ‘hyper-masculine atmosphere of war’ (Winn 120). Following their honourable discharge from the army, the two move to Brazil together to live in relative safety. Ellwood suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, and as a result of this no longer recites poems as he used to, unable to see the joy and meaning in doing so after seeing what one man can do to another in the name of war. Without his poetry as a means of expression, Ellwood struggles to express his emotions and the love he feels for Gaunt, leaving us with the heart-wrenching lines ‘some long-dead poet must have written the lines with which to answer, but Ellwood no longer knew them.’ (Winn 342).

And yet it is the words of Shakespeare, a long-dead poet, which Ellwood utilises to convey the sincerity and weight of his emotion to Gaunt when he feels a simple ‘I love you’ would not suffice. Frustrated with his own inability, Ellwood evokes the words of Cordelia, Lear’s daughter, so that Gaunt knows it is not a lack of love which prevents him from speaking.

‘Ellwood grimaced and shook his head, clearly frustrated. “No, Henry, I,” he said, “I – I cannot heave my heart into my mouth.” Gaunt stared at him. Ellwood looked just as shocked as he was. “Shakespeare,” said Ellwood. “King Lear.”’ (Winn 375)

‘Can it be that Cordelia’s emotion silences her at a moment when it is vital that she should speak?... Can it be that the quality and weight of her love drives her to understatement and to brusqueness?’ (Morris 141). Ivor Morris’s reasoning for Cordelia’s words ring true not just for the context of King Lear, but also for the final pages of In Memoriam. Much like Cordelia, it is not a lack of love which leaves Ellwood speechless, but an abundance of it. Throughout his adolescence, Ellwood finds solace and comfort in Shakespeare’s sonnets, quoting his words to convey his emotion when his own will not suffice. Following the tragedies the war has brought the pair and the world alike, Ellwood turns from these romantic poems to a tragic play in order to suitably express this shift in his feelings. Witnessing the horrors of war has changed him fundamentally as a person, and yet the works of Shakespeare, alongside his unwavering love for Gaunt, remain a constant in his life.

Works Cited

Mahony, Patrick. “Shakespeare’s Sonnet Number 20: Its Symbolic Gestalt.” American Imago, vol. 36, no. 1, 1979, pp. 69-79.

Morris, Ivor. “Cordelia and Lear.” Shakespeare Quarterly, vol. 8, no. 2, 1957, pp. 141-158.

Shakespeare, William. “Sonnet 20: A woman’s face, with Nature’s own hand painted.” The Sonnets and A Lover’s Complaint, Penguin Classics, 2009, p. 22.

Winn, Alice. In Memoriam. Penguin Books, 2023.

[bellarkeselection]

Hey love your page I was wondering if I could have a John request where your the new horse trainer and slowly reader and John fall for each other maybe Beth doesn’t trust her but Kacey likes her ?

Opinions of our Horse Trainer

Twirling the rope in my right hand I held onto the end of the rope with my left. Clicking my tongue I watched the horse quickly running around me in circles. I had been working for the Dutton family for a quite a few months now. Since John Dutton’s youngest son had taken on the position of Livestock Commissioner so they needed someone else to break in the new horses that would come in and I was hired. “Come on, boy. You wanna come at me then let’s go.” I taunted the horse causing the horse to charge at me so I ran climbing up the fence and the horse hit the wooden fence.

“Are you crying to make him want to kick your ass?” Turning my head around I heard a woman’s voice and recognized a girl with her blonde hair. She stood on the outside of the fence wearing a white and grey dress and some heels. “Cause I don’t think you want to piss a horse off sweetheart.”

My hair fell in front of my eyes, and my tan cowgirl hat was close to falling off my head when I was eyeing John's daughter. "You've got to knock the defiance out of him somehow."

"If you say so. I've just decided not to go anywhere near those things...not anymore at least." Beth shook her head at me, pulling out a cigarette.

Swinging my legs over the wooden fence, I climbed back down into the wooden fence, clicking my tongue to get the horses attention again. "Berh, I hate to say this but can you just say what you want to say because I should get back to work here."

"I'm just trying to see what your intentions are with my father." She said quickly before leaving and heading towards the white barn. I saw that John was coming from the barn, but I couldn’t hear their conversation. She smiled at her father. "Hi, Daddy."

John paused in his tracks. "Morning honey, what were you talking with Y/n about?"

"Just trying to see what you see in her exactly." She shrugged her shoulders.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uh! Beth, don't do this. I don't want to have this conversation with you."

"I loved my mother and it just seems odd for you to be with anyone but her. Even though she's dead." His daughter explained hearing footsteps coming towards the entrance of the barn.

John ran his hands down his face, not thinking this was how his morning was going to start. He removed his cowboy hat, running his fingers through his grey hair, finally seeing that it was Kayce coming towards them. "What are you two talking about this morning?" Kayce asked, tugging his horse to a stop in the doorway.

"How dad is trying to sleep with someone else who will never be as wonderful as our mother." Beth rolled her eyes, kicking some dirt with the edge of her heel.

John cursed under his breath. "Shit, Bethany!"

"Beth, I get that you'll still love our mother. But dad should be able to date other women." The youngest son said back.

The Dutton girl scoffed. "Are you serious, little brother!"

"Yeah, I am, sister. Our father should be able to be happy just like he wants us all to be. He shouldn't just be trying to maintain this ranch without having some sort of love life away from all the work." Kayce declared at his sister, wanting her to see his side of things.

She crossed her arms over her chest, letting silence fill the wooden barn for a few seconds. "So what are we just supposed to be okay with this?"

"Yeah, unless it all goes to hell in the end. But let him try and be happy with someone until the day he gets to be with our mother again." Kayce nodded, tipping his hat at the pair walking forward to put his horse in the stall.

John patted his son on the back when he walked past. "Thank you, son." He then walked in the direction of the wooden fence training area to watch Y/n as she had the horse right where she wanted it to be.

Holding one hand on the top of my head so it wouldn't fall off, the horse slowly bowed its head to me. Raising my free hand, I slumped my shoulders, not noticing John just yet. "There you go, boy. You’re a good horse. You'll do just fine now."

"Y/n, he rather likes you. And he certainly ain't the only one." John tells me with a kind smile, leaning his arms against the wooden fence.

Brushing my fingers through the horse's mane he made a noise where I focused my attention back to John. Leaving the horse I leaned my body against the fence sending him a wink. "Are you asking me to dinner, Dutton. I don't quite think you're daughter would like that very much."

John groaned slightly when he began climbing over the fence and dropped down on the other side in front of me. "To be honest with ya, darling. I don't really care what they think. So if you'll go on a date with me then let's just do it and to hell what they think."

Stepping forward I dropped the rope in my hands cupping his face in my hands and kissed him out of nowhere. "To hell with what they say it is then, John." I mumbled before he drew Mr back in for another kiss not bothered by the knowledge that Beth and Kayce were watching.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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