#but on the way back we were going to a castle and i was like hmm i want to do toy photography so i got Cleo when we stopped for loos

[qqueenofhades]

so I've been watching a lot of videos abt food that's uniquely Hong Kong and y'know with all the changes happening there I had a thought like hm is this preservation and documentation of cultural foods that are at risk of being lost?

and then I thought gosh this sounds familiar likkke everywhere we see violent colonization occur not only are lives and freedom lost but also language culture food

and then I wanted to ask you as a historian: has this always been the case? have people always had low key anxiety about culture "loss" or did they think of it a diff way? is this framing of colonization and cultural loss a recent one?

I'm realizing this is a big question and we are all le tired from les recent events, so pls view this as a no pressure ask, I just uh figured you're the only historian I have real access to haha

This is an important question that I don't currently have the mental wherewithal to answer in great depth, but I think it's important to speak to briefly. And I'll put it this way: yes, human beings have always felt that their culture, their way of life, their present existence, their friends and family, and the forces at work against them are tenuous, uncontrollable, and prone to sudden and violent destruction. I'd say it's one of the key themes of being human. I'll cite the famous example of the 8th-century Old English elegy The Ruin of the Empire, known usually as The Ruin:

This is what many of us would consider the dark and distant past, wherein an unknown person in Anglo-Saxon England is observing the ruins of the Roman Empire in Britain and reflecting on how fragile and frightening the present day feels, as if all the glory has faded into the past, as if things will not be "great" anymore, and the present is just moving inexorably toward darkness:

Bright were the castle buildings, many the bathing-halls, high the abundance of gables, great the noise of the multitude, many a meadhall full of festivity, until Fate the mighty changed that. Far and wide the slain perished, days of pestilence came, death took all the brave men away; their places of war became deserted places, the city decayed. The rebuilders perished, the armies to earth.

And yet... that was the 8th century. That was a very long time ago. A lot of history has happened since then, and despite everything, it's still here. People have always looked at the danger and fragility of their present situation and yearned for the perceived stability of the past. Indeed, the reason we have the myth of the "Dark Ages" is largely thanks to the 14th-century Italian humanist Petrarch, who looked at the (also objectively very, very crappy) 14th century, which is similar to now in a lot of ways, and built the shining myth of the Greco-Roman era as a bygone golden age that society needed to reinstate if it was going to save itself from self-inflicted destruction. This in turn gave rise to the Renaissance, which was intensely a cultural project to reclaim and re-instate a seemingly "better" past in the face of present-day chaos and uncertainty. This included a strict reifying of gender roles (etc. etc. Was There a Renaissance For Women?) and turn toward "purer" social ideals.

Anyway: these concepts have been shaped and articulated differently in various historical periods. But yes, the basic feeling that we are losing ourselves somehow, that the past was better and more stable, that the present challenges can be solved by insular reactionary politics, and so forth, is a very, very common human experience. For better or worse: both tangible and intangible artifacts have always been lost, destroyed, subject to violent sociopolitical conquest attempts, written out of history, and used for oppressive political and cultural processes. Part of the reason the right wing is doing so well worldwide right now is because they are tapping into a very, very old "put the strongman in charge and everything will go back to how [good] it used to be" mythology that is also as old as dirt and time, and which humans just keep doing when things feel existentially scary. This "weaponized nostalgia" is even more of an issue in the age of rampant disinformation, AI, and fake-news bubbles which can totally create what is accepted as reality, very often to the benefit of illiberal, right-wing, authoritarian forces. That is very hard to deal with and overcome, and I don't think we're anywhere near doing it.

That, therefore, is the bad news. The good (as it were) news is that at least these cultural processes and human instincts are not new, and indeed have continued for a long, long time. And even when these old things are destroyed, new ones emerge as well. So yeah.

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 9

And here we are at the end of the story. There is one more story left to be told. And that's "The Rise of The Fallen" which is scheduled to come out on Sunday. Then the second and final part will come out on Tuesday.

In this one, we get the reactions from Steve's other friends and Murray appears for a final fuck you to Nancy. With another sweet cameo from Vickie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

~

They made their merry way through Europe, Murray keeping his eagle-eye out for fans and paparazzi alike, all while Steve took pictures of Eddie different outfits. His personal favorite was of Eddie standing next a group of Corroded Coffin fans at ‘The Shining” motel in Germany.

His hair was tucked up under a hat and he wore a baggy jeans and wore a fuzzy blue-grey sweater. He still had his scruff and the sunglasses almost made him look more like Johnny Depp, then Eddie Munson.

Eddie was sure to steer clear of blacks and leathers and to keep his hair out of his face. He even wore a bright orange wig in Romania and Vlad the Impaler’s real castle and not the one Hollywood used for their movies.

Everyone agreed he looked dreadful in the wig, but they couldn’t deny the damn thing’s effectiveness.

They parted with Murray in Greece. He had found a lovely little cottage to settled down in and so they bid their travel partner farewell.

There in while they were viewing the Hagia Sophia in Turkiye because Chrissy expressed an interest, they met Gareth and Shane.

“Eddie!” Gareth cried and ran into his arms for a big hug.

Robin and Steve were treated to the same bear hug from Shane. Steve held Shane at arms length and smiled. His twin looked good. There was a sparkle to his eyes that had been missing on the tour.

“You look great!” he enthused to Shane’s bemusement.

“Don’t I always?” Shane teased.

Steve laughed. “Of course you do, but you look...”

“Healthy,” Robin supplied.

Then Shane truly blushed. “Thanks. Someone suggested that maybe Muslim countries might be the way to go to avoid certain vices...”

“And how is that working out for you?” Steve asked with a smile.

“Good,” Shane said, “great even.”

They decided to tour the rest of Istanbul together. Just taking in all the beautiful sites.

Steve led Shane away from the group as they were saying their goodbyes.

“What’s on your mind, twin?” Shane asked, leaning up against the railing that looked out into the city.

“Eddie asked me to marry him.” Steve fiddled with the necklace as he spoke.

Shane gently took it from his nervous fingers and smiled. “What’s the charm on his necklace, then?”

“Wings.”

Shane’s smile widened. “Because of course it is. He’s going take good care of you, you know?”

Steve blushed and nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Shane said with a soft smile. “Now tell me all about how he proposed.”

So he did. He launched into the whole story, including the mess in Venice.

“Nice to see he isn’t Mr. Perfect,” Shane said with a huff of laughter. “But good on him realizing he done fucked up, though.”

“Yeaaahhh,” Steve said with wry smile.

They walked back to the others and Eddie looked up at Steve and smiled. Steve smiled back.

~

Their tour through Asia saw them seeing haunted forests and beautiful tombs. They saw the Terracotta warriors and the Great Wall of China, Himeji Castle and Aokigahara in Japan, the Chaukhadi Tombs in Pakistan. Finally they arrived in beautiful India.

They stood in front of the one of the most well known tombs in the world. The Taj Mahal. It was even more beautiful in person than it was in pictures.

Eddie turned to Steve. “When I die are you going to build me as beautiful a tomb as this?”

“Yeah, babe,” Steve said, pulling him close. “Everyone will know the resting place of Eddie Munson, rockstar and best boyfriend in the world.”

Eddie blushed and ducked his head, his hair tucked away as had become the norm on this trip. “Shucks, Stevie. I thought you were going to say no.”

Steve laughed, giddy. “Never. Maybe we should start building it now, like the pyramids in Egypt so you can be interred with your guitar collection.”

Eddie’s went wide. “You do love me!” He wrapped his arms around Steve and kissed him soundly.

“The things they allow in public these days,” huffed a fond female voice behind them.

The four of them turned to see Nadia, Spence and a couple of well dressed young men that must have been Nadia’s brothers.

“Nadia! Spence!” Robin squealed and ran over to give them huge hugs. She even included the brothers in her enthusiastic greetings.

“These are my brothers, Indra and Jai,” Nadia said introducing them. “This is Spence’s friend, Steve, his boyfriend Eddie and Chrissy and Robin also Steve and Eddie’s friends.”

They all greeted each other.

“You know,” Eddie said with a huff of laughter. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say Stevie’s friends were social media stalking us as we’ve met up with everyone at this point.”

“You saw Simon and Shane, too?” Spence asked, tilting his head to the side. “I knew you guys were traveling the world, but Italy and Turkiye, as well?”

“We’ve been having a blast!” Robin said throwing her arms out. “Chrissy and I are heading back to the States after India, but Steve and Eddie are going to continue with Australia, some Africa and a couple places in South America before coming home to California.”

Spence bit his lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He waved vaguely at Eddie.

Eddie grinned. “We’ve been taking the proper precautions and we wanted to extend our trip out a little bit more.”

Spence looked to Steve who nodded.

“Well,” Nadia said with her own huff of laughter. “If the biggest thing that happened was Boston and that was almost two months ago and you haven’t been spotted since, I think they’ll be just fine.”

Spence looked down at her with a broad grin. “You’re right.”

“You best get used to that,” the younger of the two boys, Jai said, “she is always right. Even our mom agrees with her most of the time.”

“It’s frightening,” Indra said, with a nod.

Nadia just smiled up at Spence with find amusement.

“Yup!” Spence said, pressing his lips together. “Learning that lesson fast.”

Steve let out a laugh and soon everyone had joined in.

~

They toured India a little more with suggestions from Indra who was also a spooky fan and then they moved on.

Everywhere they went, Eddie had tried on a different look. Often blending in with the locals. There were exotic locales and spooky hotels. And in each place, Steve took a picture of Eddie incognito.

Steve laughed more in those four months then he had since he started being Abbadon in The Fallen.

Eddie was right, being a normal guy had its perks and getting to spend that with Eddie? Really made it all worth it.

Far too soon they were lifting off the runway in Mexico City on their way back to their lives.

“Well, Stevie,” Eddie said with a smile, “you ready to go back home?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I loved traveling the world. Especially with Chrissy and Robin. Seeing the guys doing so well. It really made it all worth while. But I want to sleep in my bed. I want to start writing again. I really didn’t that much while we were traveling. I learned so much out here about me, I almost can’t wait to be Abbadon again.”

“I learned a lot about me, too,” Eddie agreed. “I’ve rarely had a chance to be myself in the last ten years that I almost forgot where I came from. I’m not the leather and chains. I’m not the heavy metal rockstar. I’m just a poor schmuck from Hawkins, Indiana who got so fucking lucky.”

“You think you’re next album is going to reflect that?” Steve asked as he rummaged in his backpack for his book.

“Probably,” Eddie huffed in amusement. “After the third solely dedicated to you.”

“Only a third?” he teased. “Dustin was sure it was half.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “Why do we tell that butthead anything?”

“I figure it’s that open and round face of his,” Steve groused. “It just screams ‘trust me’.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, that tracks.”

~

Steve’s first stop after getting off the plane was straight to Vickie’s office. He needed to clear something with her before he went nuclear.

Vickie raised her head and smiled when Steve knocked on her door.

“Nichole said it was okay to just come in,” he said with a smile.

“And Nichole would be correct,” she said indicating the chairs in front of her, “have a seat. Tell me all about your lovely vacation. Thank you for sending me pictures by the way, it helped me and my team keep up on all the goings on and keep fan reactions to a minimum.”

“You’re welcome!” Steve said brightly, closing the door behind him. “So this is about the pictures, actually.”

“Oh?” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Do tell.”

So Steve did.

At the end of his explanation and question Vickie grinned. “I think that’s a beautiful way to do it. I’ll make sure she’s served before you send out the message and you’re all good to go.”

“I have an idea on who should serve her, too,” he said, grinning back at her.

“If you’re thinking of who I’m thinking of,” she said slyly, “then it’ll be perfect.”

Steve just smiled.

~

There was a knock on the door and Nancy went up to get it. She had just finished applying for schools to change her career from being an agent to a journalist. The thought of really getting to the heart of a story like she had on the school newspaper all those years ago, really lit something in her.

She opened the door and there was a short man with thick, wire glasses and a sneering grin.

“Wait, you’re Murray Bauman, right?” she asked. “Had I know you were coming I would have opened a bottle of wine to commiserate with. Both of us having been discarded like trash when Corroded Coffin was done with us.”

Murray shrugged. “It was time. I needed the push to retire. Got myself a lovely little cottage in Greece now.”

She blinked at him for a moment. “Then why are you here?”

“This!” He handed her a large manilla envelope and waved goodbye.

Inside was a cease and desist as well as a notification that she may have violated an NDA.

“Shit.”

There was another paper in the envelope and when she pulled it out, her heart sank. She slumped against the wall and let the picture fall to the floor. It was a picture of the London Eye in the background with Chrissy and Robin on one side and Steve and Eddie on the other and in the middle smiling up at the camera, clearly taken by someone else, was Murray Bauman.

~

Steve and Eddie were snuggled up on Steve’s bed, Eddie curled around Steve.

Steve hit send and put the phone down to wrap his arms around Eddie. “There. All posted across all social media. I’ve put us both on mute and Vickie is going to handle the next forty-eight hours.”

“I wish I could have seen her face when she saw the picture,” Eddie huffed with a grin.

“Me, too.”

Steve’s phone lit up once to confirm the post of: “Traveling with a rockstar is like playing hide and seek with fans. How many of you saw him but didn’t realize you were standing next to Eddie Munson?! Also, to the 'fan' who outed us in Boston, we know who you are and an NDA maaaayyyy have been violated. You'll speak to our lawyers soon! “

Eddie and Steve soon drifted off to sleep, content with their lives.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[kurishiri]

02┊Dark If —Alfons Sylvatica—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: implied dub-con, implied alcohol consumption, invasion of personal space.

(I-I-I...I...)

Alfons the Mirror: You’re rather quick to wake up, aren’t you. Well? Were you able to have a good dream last night?

(Why did I do such a thing... it was like Alfons was my lover...)

(Wait, like one...?)

Kate: Y-you did something to me, didn’t you?

Alfons the Mirror: Why indeed I did. We did a greaaat many things under consent.

A: That said, though, you ended up falling asleep, so we didn’t go all the way.

Kate: That’s not the point...!

Alfons the Mirror: Were you aware of my ability then? Because, yes, I did use it.

A: I am a mirror that reflects wishes and desires. I simply did what you wished for.

Kate: Wh—why would I ever wish for something so dirty...

Alfons the Mirror: Well I’ll be... is that really so?

Though I was intoxicated, I could still remember how I ended up wanting to lean into Alfons’ warmth.

Kate: Y-you’re the utter worst!

Alfons the Mirror: Aha, I do take a fancy to that reaction of yours. I prefer this loads over how you resembled a lost child last night.

Kate: Well, I won’t be seeking any more help from you.

Alfons the Mirror: Well then, how about I make a prediction? You will come to see me... I’m more than sure.

I straightened out my disheveled clothes and stood up as Alfons said while sprawled on the bed...

Alfons the Mirror: Ah, and...

(...?)

Alfons the Mirror: The first cocktail you drank last night is applejack. Despite all appearances, it’s quite some strong liquor.

A: A poisoned apple may not necessarily take the form of an apple itself. Do be careful from now on.

Perhaps out of frustration, or something else entirely, my cheeks grew hot.

Kate: Thanks for the warning! And you take care of that liver of yours too, mister Alfons the Mirror!

Alfons the Mirror: ......... (O_O)

A: ...pfft, ahahaha!

Leaving that shameless parting remark, I burst out of that shady room.

(That guy’s the worst of the worst, I swear to god——!!)

Pub master: Look at you, lady-killer. Did you have a fun time yet again? I’m almost envious.

Alfons the Mirror: Too much fun, in fact. Though she ran away like a cat would in the end.

??? (Harry): ...Hey, don’t go teasing her too much.

Alfons the Mirror: ...?

Sitting in the corner of the pub was a man, and that was all he said before disappearing into the darkness.

Pub master: So, are you gonna have a drink to wake yourself up, Alfons?

Alfons the Mirror: Yes, perhaps I will, with an applejack.

The day after I was played by the mirror, I went around on my own to find the missing thing.

But it seemed the favorite phrase of the people I asked boiled down to ‘maybe you’ll know if you ask Alfons?’

So in the end, I couldn’t get my hands on any information, leaving me to go back to that person, much to my displeasure.

Said person was at the castle, playing on a whim with a black cat.

Alfons the Mirror: Elbie was going to add this cat to his collection, you see... but it’s a relief indeed that you won’t be subject to a taxidermy, isn’t it?

Black cat: Meow...

Alfons the Mirror: And so, what brings you here?

Kate: .........ease.

Alfons the Mirror: I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that. Speak up a little more, why don’t you.

Kate: ...Help me...please...

Alfons the Mirror: With what, might I ask?

(I-I swear, this man——!)

Kate: I need your insights, so please help me...!

Alfons the Mirror: Very well. I must say you looked quite darling just now.

While I threw him a resentful look, Alfons brought his fingers to his chin in a dramatic gesture.

Alfons the Mirror: For the record, everything I am about to say is mere speculation on my end.

A: But you are Snow White, Elbie is the Queen, Roger the Hunter, and I the Mirror.

A: Don’t you think there is a missing cast member here in the story of Snow White?

(Ah...)

Kate: The prince?

Alfons the Mirror: Indeed, if you find that prince who is somewhere in this world, you may be able to return from whence you came!

Kate: Thank you so much, Alfons! I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Alfons the Mirror: Hardly. Then, I say we head off to search for this prince and whatnot posthaste.

Kate: Wait, you’re going to help?

Alfons the Mirror: Did I not say? I happen to very much enjoy sticking my nose into other people’s business without the need to take an ounce of responsibility.

And so, with Alfons, we started our search for the prince.

Alfons the Mirror: To all the candidates to be Snow White’s prince, over here! Yes, that’s it, line up in a single file.

A: Now, entry number 1. You can come up.

Candidate No.1: I-I would like to take Snow White’s hand in marriage, so I can get close to Queen Elbert——

Queen Elbert: ...Dismissed.

Alfons the Mirror: Thank you for your time. Ah, and over there are some souvenirs, so do take some with you.

Kate: Thank you for helping out so much.

K: ...But, what in the world is this!?

Alfons the Mirror: Thinking it was the most efficient way, I invited candidates from within the country. I am quite good at my job, aren’t I.

Kate: I won’t deny that, but you could’ve confided in me before it happened...

K: Besides, why is Queen Elbert helping as well?

Queen Elbert: ...? Because, I was worried about you?

Alfons the Mirror: Alright then, entry number 2. You may come up.

Candidate No.2: I want to marry Snow White, and every night... hehehe...

Queen Elbert: ...Take him out of the castle grounds.

Alfons the Mirror: Yes yes, right away. Guards, if you please, throw him right out of the castle.

—— Time skip ——

(...That must’ve been close to 300 people, but we couldn’t find even one remotely like a prince.)

The fatigue piling up on me, I started to feel more down.

(At this rate, I won’t be able to find the missing thing, and I probably won’t be able to return back to reality.)

Alfons the Mirror: Kate? Kate.

Kate: Yes... ngh, mn...

Alfons kissed me with a wet sound before he finally parted from my lips.

Kate: W-why a kiss so suddenly?

Alfons the Mirror: I was starting to grow tired of all these worthless men, so call this a cleansing of palate, if you will.

A: Oh, or are you perhaps in need of a more intensely pleasurable ‘cleansing’?

Kate: Ah… no, we can’t…

I remembered the heat from when he fondled me before, and for a moment I recalled the pleasure from that.

(But that… all of that…)

Alfons the Mirror: You can put all the blame on me. I simply had unfulfilled desires, and so I laid my hands upon you.

Kate: In between an audience… that’s bad manners.

Alfons the Mirror: Oh dear, did you truly take me for someone who tries to uphold manners, by any chance?

A: And besides that, with that sort of phrasing, are you meaning to say doing things like this is alright if it’s in a different place?

Kate: Wh—ah…

Alfons the Mirror: We can leave the prince hunt for tomorrow and enjoy ourselves today. How about it?

(That it would make me happy if that smile of his was not apathetic, but rather one that came from his heart…)

(…It’s not like I’m thinking that or anything.)

And then, a few days later, in order to invite real princes, a banquet was held at the castle.

(Urgh, if it’s real princes, that would mean they’re nobility, right? Of course I’d be nervous…)

Alfons the Mirror: Are you finished with preparations? Well, I’ll be, don’t you look wonderful.

A: That is one shameless slit, to be sure. You’ll have the princes on their knees in no time flat, I say.

Kate: H-hold on, don’t touch me.

Alfons the Mirror: Goodness, what’s there to be so stingy about?

At this point, such interactions with Alfons like this had long become a part of my every day.

I had initially felt so anxious, but now such feelings have dissipated more…

Kate: …You know, recently I’ve had times when I’ve thought about what I’m really searching for.

Alfons the Mirror: And that is to say?

Kate: I had thought finding that missing thing and correcting what made this world twisted would be the right thing to do.

K: But it’s just… I can’t help but wonder if that’s really the case.

The people living in this country had gone twisted and mad somewhere along the way.

After all, Queen Elbert was still searching for the most beautiful thing in this world,

and Alfons… he would sometimes have this severely lonely or icy look in his eyes.

But… there wasn’t any person here that was living an entirely proper life.

And I couldn’t help but feel more or less everyone was living at least a little mad.

While thinking that, I felt the sensation of fingertips tickling my back.

Kate: Eek!

Alfons the Mirror: So you no longer wish to return to reality, instead wanting to stay with me?

Kate: No way!

Alfons the Mirror: Hehe, that’s unfortunate. Oh, and would you look at that. It’s almost time, Snow White.

In the dance hall, princes from many different countries were gathered.

Green-eyed prince: Snow White, this dish is delectable.

Kate: Ah, thank you. I’ll partake in some.

(If it was Alfons, I imagine he wouldn’t eat this sort of luxurious dish.)

——How rude. I’ll have you know purposefully eating crudely is what makes a noble.

Blue-eyed prince: Snow White, uhm, could we talk over there later?

Kate: Yes, of course.

(If it were Alfons, he would probably drag me off somewhere without asking first.)

——After all, you don’t dislike this kind of force, do you?

(…W-wait, what…?)

(For a while now, why was I…)

Why was I trying to find Alfons in other people?

Kate: ——!

(I… to Alfons——)

to be continued…

← prev premium bitter

ko-fi ☕️ ┋ comms🤍

[charrchan]

Phone photos bc I didn't bring my camera and impulse bought Cleo in Sainsburys lol

[foldingfittedsheets]

It sounds funny but I’m actually a second generation sex shop employee. My mom worked in one for a while when I was little. It definitely set a very blasé tone around sex growing up which was great until it was mortifying because I was a teenager.

I don’t have many clear memories from when I was a kid but a few stand out. First is that when I was too sick to go to daycare I’d get to hang out in the back room of the shop my mom worked in. It was basically paradise.

Firstly, because my mom was in charge of inventory and there was always a kings ransom in boxes. So most of my sick days were spent in custom box fortresses filled with blankets and pillows. I got to watch the TV in the safety of my cardboard castle. My mom’s boss would also usually let me play with the stone otters she kept on her desk. I adored those otters and looked forward to sick days where I got to caress their carved stone features.

Second, mom’s work had the best candy. There was a novelty brand they carried that I still think about. Sure, the chocolates were shaped like boobs, but I did not care because they were the most delicious chocolates I’d ever had. I only got a candy if I were very good so I stayed on my best behavior most of the time.

I did get in trouble once for wandering into the back stock while looking for props to play with. I ended up finding a joke pack of condoms that were super tiny and using them as hats for my little toys. Thank goodness they were unlubricated. I was chided for this and the teeny condoms were carefully returned to their package.

But my absolute favorite was when I go to stay until closing. While mom was counting down the til I could wander the display shelves and touch all the sample dildos. I only had a vague sense that these represented anatomy- mostly I just cared about their relative texture merits. I poked and squeezed my way through the displays dongs, approving particularly squishy ones, disdaining the hard plastic offerings.

I rated them from worst to best until my mom secured her cash box and we went home, leaving behind a wonderland of yummy candy, stone otters, and cardboard kingdoms.

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

--------------------------------------------------------

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Devotion

Summary - Cregan's obsession with his wife is obvious, constantly showering her with affection and praise, making sure she always feels his unwavering devotion. Even amidst the grandeur of her brother's wedding, he struggles to restrain himself, after all, she is his, forever and always.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Strong reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2302

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek as his face hovered inches from mine. I smiled, a faint blush spreading across my cheeks at his intimate compliment. 

His arms wrapped around me from behind, the touch both reassuring and affectionate.

I was dressed in a delicate grey gown, chosen for its simplicity and ease of travel. It was perfect for our journey to Dragonstone, where we were to attend the wedding of my brother Jace and his betrothed, Baela. 

Despite its understated elegance, the dress shimmered subtly, catching the light as I moved.

"I've been told," I whispered, leaning back to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Cregan was never shy with his affections, always finding ways to remind me daily of how much he cherished me. His compliments were a constant comfort, his words a balm to my heart.

"Now, come," I said, slipping my hand into his. "We must hurry. I do not wish to delay our travels any longer." The excitement in my voice was palpable, a mixture of anticipation and eagerness to reunite with my family.

The journey, which usually took around a month had been shortened to just under three weeks, thanks to my fervent eagerness to reach Dragonstone. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the rugged coastline, Dragonstone emerged from the mist like a majestic sentinel. The castle's towering spires and weathered stone walls loomed against the fading light, blurred into a series of excited memories as we approached.

As we finally arrived, the sight of my mother waiting for us was like a beacon. Her face lit up with the brightest smile, a warmth that instantly melted away any lingering fatigue from our travels.

"Your Grace," I greeted, my own smile matching hers.

"Come here," she whispered, her arms opening wide. 

She enfolded me in a long, tender hug, holding me as if she could keep me forever. When she finally drew back, her hands gently cupped my face, her touch a soothing balm.

"I have missed you dearly," she said, her voice a soft murmur that wrapped around my heart like a comforting embrace.

Her gaze softened as she placed a gentle hand on my stomach, a radiant smile lighting up her face. 

"You're going to be an incredible mother," she murmured, her words brimming with affection. I smiled widely in response, the news still fresh in my mind. The maester in Winterfell had said I was barely a moon along, now, after our journey, it was almost two moons.

Jace was next. As I moved towards him, he pulled me into a hug so tight that I could hardly breathe.

"I trust you would like your sister and niece or nephew alive?" I joked, my voice muffled against his shoulder. 

He chuckled, loosening his grip with a sheepish grin as his eyes wandered to my still-hidden belly, where the babe was growing though not yet visible.

Turning to Baela, I found her beaming at me with a warmth that matched her smile. "The beautiful bride," I murmured, drawing her into a hug as well. 

"Where are the little ones?" I asked, glancing around for my younger brothers, eager to see them.

"Inside, eagerly waiting to greet their older sister," Rhaenyra replied, linking her arm with mine. Her voice was filled with the same warmth that defined our family's gatherings.

I looked back at Cregan, who stood nearby, his face alight with the joy of the reunion. The sparkle in his eyes reflected the enchantment he felt witnessing these heartfelt moments. 

I beckoned him towards me with a smile, and he moved to my side, walking in step with me as we proceeded together.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

I thanked the handmaidens as they finished dressing me, their hands moving with practised grace as they adjusted the final details of my attire. The red and black beaded gown I wore was nothing short of ethereal. 

The delicate beadwork shimmered in the candlelight, and the sheer material, coupled with the plunging neckline, made me feel both beautiful and slightly hesitant. 

The gown was daring, exposing more skin than I was accustomed to, and the subtle curve of my barely visible bump was hidden beneath the fabric.

"Gods be good," a deep voice mumbled from behind me. I turned to find my husband standing in the doorway, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide as they roved over me.

"Is it okay?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty. His silence stretched on, and I shifted nervously, my fingers playing with a strand of my hair before settling on my stomach.

"I know, I think it looks rather scandalous. Perhaps I should change," I rushed out, my insecurities bubbling to the surface. 

Before I could move, he closed the distance between us in quick strides, taking my hands in his.

"You, my sweet wife, are a vision," he began, his voice filled with awe. "The epitome of grace and beauty." His hands moved gently up and down my arms, his touch soothing my nerves. His fingers then traced the curve of my stomach with a tender reverence.

"I can already tell that our little one will be as beautiful as their mother," he added, his eyes soft with affection. 

I visibly relaxed under his tender attention.

"A true dragon, in dragon colours," he continued, his fingers brushing lightly down the exposed skin of my chest. The heat of his touch sent a shiver through me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I grabbed his hand, interlacing my fingers with his. "We should really be off. I do not wish to miss a moment of the celebration," I said, my voice soft but firm. 

He exhaled deeply, stepping back as if he had to physically restrain himself from drawing me closer.

"Of course," he murmured, a mix of longing and admiration in his eyes. 

He offered his arm, and I took it, the touch of his hand a comforting anchor as we made our way towards the grand hall where the celebration awaited.

The wedding was grand, a magnificent celebration to commemorate the union of Jace and Baela. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh flowers and the rich aroma of roasted meats. Laughter and music swirled around us, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with the energy of celebration.

The festivities stretched late into the night, with joy, melodies, and merriment filling every corner. 

Amidst the revelry, I noticed Cregan growing increasingly fidgety, his usual composed demeanour slipping.

As the musicians struck up a lively tune, we took to the dance floor. His hands gripped my waist firmly, and I wrapped mine around his neck, feeling the tension radiating from his body.

"Are you alright?" I asked, tilting my head slightly to catch his gaze. He took a deep breath, nodding, though his eyes betrayed his unease.

I placed a hand on his chest, furrowing my brows in concern. "Please tell me if something is bothering you," I urged softly, wanting to ease his distress.

He leaned closer, his voice low and intimate, sending a shiver down my spine. 

"I do not think I can restrain myself any longer," he confessed, his hands travelling up and down my sides with a possessive urgency.

"I need you," he murmured, his tone tinged with a desperate whine. "Please."

His words and the intensity of his touch sent a wave of heat pooling between my legs. I bit my lip, struggling to maintain my composure as my own desire mirrored his.

"Lead the way," I whispered, giving in to the need that coursed through me. A victorious glint sparked in his eyes as he stepped back, taking my hand and rushing us toward my chambers.

Once inside, the door barely closed behind us before Cregan's lips were on mine, his kiss urgent and demanding. His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer as if he couldn't bear even a moment's distance between us.

My fingers tangled in his hair, matching his fervour as our bodies pressed together. The weight of the evening's formality melted away, leaving only the raw, unrestrained need we felt for each other. He backed me toward the bed, his lips never leaving mine, and we fell onto the soft covers in a tangle of limbs and desire.

"I've wanted you all night," he breathed against my neck, his voice a ragged whisper. "Seeing you in that gown, so beautiful, so perfect... I couldn't think of anything else."

"Now I want it off," he growled, tugging at the material. I laughed, gently pushing him back as I carefully slipped out of the dress, placing it aside with deliberate care.

"Have me then," I teased, my voice low and inviting, leaving myself naked and exposed before him.

"I will," he promised, his eyes burning with an intense desire. He quickly discarded his own clothes, his movements hurried and eager, not wanting to waste another moment.

I scooted back on the bed, watching as he knelt before me, his gaze locked onto mine with a fervour that made my heart race. His hands slid up my legs, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within me.

"You're breathtaking," he murmured, his voice filled with awe as his fingers traced the curves of my body. "Every inch of you."

His words sent a flush of heat through me, and I arched into his touch, craving more. He leaned in, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His hands continued their exploration, each touch leaving a trail of burning desire in its wake.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our bodies pressed together.

"Cregan," I moaned softly as his lips travelled down my neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. 

"I need you," he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. "I need all of you."

"Take me," I replied, my voice barely more than a breathy plea. "I'm yours."

My words were all the confirmation he needed. He adjusted himself, positioning his body above mine, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race. 

Slowly, deliberately, he entered me, his movements controlled and purposeful. A soft groan escaped my lips as he filled me, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating.

He started with a slow, measured rhythm, each thrust deliberate and deep. His eyes never left mine, the connection between us palpable and electric. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I arched my back, meeting each of his movements with my own. 

The pleasure built gradually, a slow burn that intensified with each passing moment.

As the heat between us grew, his pace began to quicken. His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate as if he couldn't get enough of me. The room was filled with the sounds of our lovemaking, soft moans, breathless gasps, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.

"Cregan," I moaned, my voice barely a whisper, filled with raw need.

His hand moved from my legs to the sensitive spot between us, his fingers finding my clit with practised ease. "Cum for me, princess," he groaned, his voice a deep, gravelly command.

The sensation of him inside me, the feel of his body moving against mine, combined with the skilled movement of his hand, sent electric shocks of pleasure through my entire being. 

My eyes rolled back, lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that built within me.

With a final, deliberate thrust, the cord in my stomach snapped. I cried out, the pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave. My body convulsed, shuddering as the orgasm tore through me, his name a desperate plea on my lips. 

Cregan followed soon after, his own release leaving him breathless and trembling. 

As the waves of pleasure subsided, we lay together in the aftermath, our bodies still entwined, slick with sweat and the remnants of our passion. He held me close, his arms wrapped protectively around me as if he never wanted to let go.

"We should return," I said, attempting to pull myself away from Cregan's embrace. "Cregan, come on," I added, laughing as he finally relented.

He helped me get dressed, his hands lingering for a moment longer than necessary, savouring the feel of the gown's fabric against my skin. 

Once I was clothed, I smoothed down my hair, trying to make myself look presentable despite the flush in my cheeks and the sparkle in my eyes.

Hand in hand, we made our way back to the celebrations. The laughter and music seemed brighter, more vibrant, as if our shared moment had infused the celebration with a deeper sense of joy.

"There you are," Rhaenyra said, her eyes lighting up as she saw us approaching. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I nervously giggled, trying my hardest to keep our recent activities a secret.

"I needed a moment to myself," I lied, patting my stomach and hoping my mother wouldn't notice the lingering flush on my face or the slight dishevelment of my hair. I settled into my seat, Cregan sitting close beside me.

My eyes met Cregan's, and he gave me a knowing smile, his hand finding mine under the table.

"Are you enjoying yourselves?" she asked, her gaze flicking between me and Cregan.

"Very much," Cregan replied, his voice warm and genuine. "It's a beautiful celebration."

My mother nodded, satisfied with his response. "It is," she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked at me. "I'm glad you're here."

I leaned into Cregan, feeling the warmth of his presence beside me. His eyes met mine, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with a fierce tenderness that made my heart swell. "I will always love you."

"I love you too," I replied, my voice equally soft and sincere. "Forever and always."

A/n - Editing this rn and there was originally no pregnancy and then I had a very sudden impulse to add it could not tell you why lmaoo

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Woot! I finally played Kingdom Hearts Talisman and it was so much fun!

I lost horribly, though, because I had the worst luck in this game in the history of the world. Still adore it, though.

[strawberri-blonde]

Iron throne - Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: you celebrate team black winning the war by giving the heir a much needed gift (basically giving Jace head while he sits on the iron throne)

Warning : Lots of smut

Author’s Note: I’m super proud of this one guys!!!!!

Masterlist

Laughter echoed through the dimly lit halls as you pulled your husband along the winding corridors leading to the throne room of the Red Keep. The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls. “Y/n, what are we going in here?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and amusement. The grand, imposing doors of the throne room loomed ahead, promising an adventure within the heart of the castle.

You nodded to the guards, who had been informed hours earlier that you’d be bringing the prince here. You might have fibbed a bit, saying the new rightful queen had given her permission (and you might’ve bribed them with a little bit of gold, perks of being the princess and wife to the future king). Queen Rhaenyra had won the war less than a month ago, and you wanted to celebrate with the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Relax, my beloved," you giggled, opening the door to the Iron Throne. The throne stood before you, a menacing structure forged from a thousand swords, with jagged edges and twisted metal that symbolized immense power. "It’s just that ever since your mother took her rightful place as ruler, we haven’t had time to truly celebrate." His beautifully sculpted face showed of curiosity.

"I’m not quite understanding, ābrazȳrys." His whisper seemed to echo in the large room, but you maintained your cunning smile, excited for what was to come or whom. wife

"That’s alright," you said, your soft hands reaching out for his. Your heart blossomed as he took your hands in his and raised them to his lips. "Oh Jacaerys, you’ve always treated me like a queen." He smirked, kissing your skin again. You pulled his hands to your lips, mimicking his act of affection. "And I know this war hasn’t been easy for you or anyone, really, but the way you’ve presented yourself..." You paused to drag him over to the Iron Throne. "Was so honorable, noble... strong." You whispered the last part, knowing that every time he heard the word, he thought of his birth father, which still left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Your war strategies were far from princely. You acted as a king in the making."

"My sweet wife," Jace whispered, his voice trembling. Even in the dark, you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, glistening like tiny stars. He gently cupped your face, his touch tender and reverent. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion as he gazed into your eyes, his love and vulnerability laid bare.

You immediately shook your head and motioned him towards the steps of the Iron Throne. “No, it is I who doesn’t deserve you,” you insisted, your voice firm yet filled with affection. As you guided him closer, the cold, unforgiving nature of the throne contrasted sharply with the warmth of your touch, emphasizing the depth of your bond.

"Impossible," he said with a playful grin. You giggled again and gave him a gentle push until he stumbled back and fell into the throne of swords, the metal clinking softly as he landed.

His eyes widened, and he immediately started to get up, but you placed a hand on his chest and pulled something up from the floor. It was a cardboard crown, meticulously crafted with painted details and shiny foil, resembling his grandfather's crown—or rather, now his mother’s.

“Y/n?” His voice was full of question as you plopped the fake crown on his head. “What are you—” Jace was cut off by your lips pressing against his. Nothing about the kiss was sweet or simple; it was full of hot need. His hands went to your cheeks while yours fisted his tunic.

"You are the queen's heir, my prince," you smirked as his eyes dropped to your lips, craving more. You happily obliged, licking his bottom lip and slipping your tongue into his mouth, moaning as he sucked on your flesh. You pulled away, hands reaching the bottom of his shirt. "You'll be my king, and as your future queen, I swear to you that there will never be a day where you aren't worshipped by me, your highness."

Jace’s eyes widened in sheer amazement as you lifted his shirt over his head. He eagerly pulled you closer, his hands cupping your face, as he guided you into a fervent, passionate kiss.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he murmured against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. Yet, he ignored his own warning, kissing the corner of your mouth before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your neck.

A sinister smirk curled your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing your husband to explore your neck with his eager kisses. "Don't worry," you whispered, the words drifting through the chilly, echoing chamber. "The guards have been paid off to alert me if anyone approaches, and I have a handmaiden rising extra early to tidy up any evidence of our indulgence."

Jacaerys drew back, his gaze locked onto yours. "You’re truly extraordinary," he said, his voice filled with genuine reverence.

"Only for those who truly deserve it," you replied with heartfelt sincerity. As you gracefully slid off his lap, you stood before him, your delicate fingers tracing a path down his bare chest, savoring the contours of his toned body. "And you, Jace, deserve the world. I intend to give it to you." You paused at the waistband of his pants, your fingers lingering on the button. "Now, let me show you how I’ll care for the future king, shall I?"

Before you could kneel in front of him, your husband grabbed your bicep to stop you. "At least use my shirt and pants as a cushion for your knees, issa ābrazȳrys." My wife

You hummed softly, then leaned back in to give him a gentle kiss, then felt the fake crown slip from his curls knocking against your head. The delicate touch of his lips sent a shiver down your spine. "Always the gentleman," you whispered against his mouth, your breath mingling with his. "Se bona’s skoro syt nyke’d zālagon se vys ilagon syt ao." The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment of unspoken promise and fierce devotion. And that’s why I’d burn the world down for you

Locking your eyes solely on him, you helped Jace out of his black silk pants, readjusting the decorative crown on his head. Then once he was freed from his clothes, you let them pool at his feet to use them as a cushion as you knelt in front of him. "Sit back, husband," you teased, pushing at his toned chest down to his abs, just above where his cock rested. Even in the seemly light room you could see the glistening tip as it slightly bounced in the air, begging for attention. "Let me worship you."

You grabbed his shaft firmly in hand, running your palm up and down the length, savoring the soft moans escaping his rosy lips. You smiled up at him as he sat back in his rightful throne, the one he would rule one day, and parted his legs, giving you more room to work with. Shifting closer, you spit down on his glossy head, circling your wrist from his tip all the way to his base, then leaned down to apply open-mouthed kisses to his thighs.

Jace's head arched back against the throne, his eyes locked on yours, pupils blown out with lust. "So pretty," you moaned against his skin, continuing your strokes and sucking on his fair skin, intending to leave marks for him to remember in the days to come. "All mine, my king."

"You were sculpted by the gods," he said, his voice rough and his hands fisted at the armrests.

"Hmm," you hummed against his thighs, kissing up until you reached his cock. You kissed the red tip, then licked a broad line from his balls back to the uncut tip of his shaft; tapping it against your tongue before indulging by taking it into your mouth. You moaned against his girthy size, sending vibrations along your wake. "It seems as though you were gifted heavenly yourself, husband."

Jace cursed to himself as you took him fully into your wet mouth, bobbing up and down, only managing to take him halfway in. You jerked the bottom half while your other hand fumbled with his heavy balls. "You're too good at this, my queen." Heat pooled within you at his praise, making you bob faster, wanting to please him.

Drool spilled from your mouth as you let him out with a pop, then sucked along the side of his shaft, tonguing his thick, protruding vein. You sucked back on the tip, moaning around him, making his right hand fly from the armrest to the top of your head, guiding you to sink your mouth back down until he reached deep in the back of your throat. "So fucking good, my love. Taking me so well."

Your eyes stayed locked on him as you ran a hand up his thigh, tracing his clenched stomach until you reached his nipple, pinching it. "Holy," he muttered, his eyes beginning to shut and his hips buckling under your touch.

When he bucked his hips, his cock slipped further into your mouth, making you choke, and you loved every second of it. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked, panicked. You only pressed your hands down on his thighs, sinking your nails into his skin, and took him deeper, allowing tears to form in your eyes. You swallowed around him, causing incoherent words to spill from his lips.

You pulled back slowly, a glistening trail of saliva covering his entire mound and dripping down to soak the front of your dress. The sight was mesmerizing, the slick sheen catching the light as you panted, lips parted and eyes locked onto his.

Without thinking, you pulled your gown over your head, leaving you in nothing but your lace underwear and ankle lace socks. "Don't worry about me, dear prince." You squeezed the head of his cock, paying close attention to it, knowing it was the most sensitive, much like your clit. "If I were to choke to death from giving you pleasure, then I'd die a happy woman."

Jace let out a forced laugh, but it was cut off by a moan as you leaned back down to take his balls in your mouth, inhaling his natural musk mixed with the scents of lavender and bath salts. You loved the way he smelled; it was intoxicating.

You shook your head slightly, your tongue and lips still working over his sack, savoring every moment. As you pulled away to press soft kisses against his thighs, you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. "Are you enjoying yourself, my love?" you whispered, your voice laced with desire.

It was undeniable that the prince was lost in the pleasure you were giving him. His eyes were dark and blown out with lust, his gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart race. The veins in his arms stood out starkly, a testament to the tension coursing through his body, while his chiseled abdominal muscles were clenched tight. His lower half trembled with the sheer force of his ecstasy, a testament to the overwhelming sensations you were creating.

"Don't tease me, my future queen," he growled, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. Your lips curved into a wide smile, knowing exactly the effect you had on him. "You know what you do to me." His painfully hard length brushed against your lips, evidence of his desire, as his hand caressed your cheek tenderly, the contrast between his touch and his need making your heart race.

"I know," you admitted with a sly smile, licking his tip before trailing your tongue down to his balls and back up again, savoring his taste. "But what would really make me happy is making you cum on your rightful throne, my future king." Before he could respond, you took him entirely into your mouth, beginning to bob up and down his length with unrelenting passion.

"Y/n," he moaned, slipping his hand back into your hair to help guide your mouth up and down his shaft. His grip tightened when your hand twisted around the base and the other cupped his sack, giving them a little tug. "My wife, I'm so..." he dragged out. "Close." You didn't let up.

Nothing could make you stop. Seeing Jacaerys' face scrunched up in bliss, his eyes staring down at you, as you pleased him on the Iron Throne was intoxicating. A literal dragon would have to drag you away before you stopped.

"I'm—" his breath hitched in his throat as you slurped and sucked on the tip of his cock, jerking the rest. "Fuck."

His hips bucked as his cum shot into your mouth, and you greedily continued. His salty essence was the best thing you had ever tasted, and you lapped it all up, even as his cock began to soften just a bit. Finally, when you felt like you got every last drop, you looked up at Jace with a cheeky, toothy smile.

"For you, my future King Jacaerys Velaryon," you said, slowly standing up despite the ache in your knees. His clothes had barely cushioned them, but his blissful expression held your attention. The kiddish fake crown slipped down, covering his eyebrows and pushing some of his brown curls into his face. Gently, you pushed the crown back up and brushed his hair aside, gazing down at him with nothing but love in your eyes. "I will always bend the knee."

Why do I always get obsessed with characters who die. Like I truly contribute to my own downfall. Mental health who???

~ Caroline

[tender-rosiey]

MY DEAR AND BEAUTIFUL ROSE<3. I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to ask about my husband (Sukuka cough cough) a scenario where the husband Sukuna saves the reader from the enemy, or someone tries to kidnap and hurt his wife! you write Sukuna's feelings so beautifully <3

fools' sentence — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: bro you're too kind ilysm; I really hope you like this too <3

if only you listened to that rude servant about not going out of the castle.

it’s a bitter thought really, but you just couldn’t let your pride be scarred by somebody who doesn’t even speak to you in a minimal amount of respect.

so, in a way, you’re okay with dying a proud queen who doesn’t let anybody disrespect her.

“oh, we are going to have so much fun with you, and that monstrous husband of yours will just see your mutilated body after we’re done with you,” the guy grins devilishly. you back up slightly.

okay, so maybe, you don’t want to die just yet.

“that impudent woman! she disobeyed me, and now, we are stuck looking for her, so we can find her before sukuna returns!” the servant complains loudly while walking the halls of the castle.

“and who is that impudent woman you speak of? surely, it isn’t my wife you’re addressing in such a manner,” a voice—a very distinct and well-known one—says from behind the servant.

only then does she realize the shadow that suddenly was casted from above her.

she quickly falls to her knees and starts stuttering out her apologies and excuses, “o-of course not, my lord! how could I ever speak ill of the lady of the castle! her presence is to be respected, naturally!”

after she is done, she lets silence fill the room. assuming that sukuna has believed her, she lets out a sigh of relief, and her body relaxes ever so slightly.

however, an ear-piercing scream is ripped out of her throat when sukuna steps on her foot, so roughly that it breaks.

sukuna groans, annoyed at the incessant scream and wailing of the lady, and he throws a question, “where is your queen?”

the woman keeps on sobbing but tries to speak out nonetheless, “s—she, she,” she hiccups, but sukuna has no time to listen to her bellow.

“faster! where is she?”

she buries her face in the ground to quieten her sobs, but she doesn’t get the chance to respond to him when uraume appears out of thin air.

they kneel to the ground and speak humbly, “my lord, lady y/n has been taken as a hostage by a group of sorcerers.”

sukuna eyes’ widen, and he frowns.

he quickly turns to leave but not before making a command, “uraume, every servant who was careless and caused her disappearance is to be beheaded immediately.”

you thank god for men being prideful creatures who love speaking about themselves. you only asked them once about their accomplishments and raids, and they never stopped talking.

with a couple of positive encouragements from you, they talked and talked till the sun went down.

the doors of the room you’re trapped in slams open, and a fearful boy screams out, “sukuna—sukuna is here!”

“what?!” they all snap, and you grin. finally, you were going to be freed from this cage.

unfortunately, one of the men notices your beaming expression. his face contorts, livid, and he quickly fists your hair in his hand. you let out a scream, but he slams you against the wall.

he shouts, “shut up! you’re the one that lured him here! you stalled till he could find you! you wretched woman!”

“are you stupid?! you take his wife, and you expect him to stand idly by?!” you reply, voice hoarse, and unable to accept taking what he said lying down.

you can’t, however, control the dizziness that hits you, and you can feel blood trickling down your nose.

the only thing that comforts you is the sound of slashes and the calling of your name by your darling husband.

you smirk at the man above you and whisper, “ever saw sukuna in action?”

the man grits his teeth and before he throws a punch at your face, the door flies and gets crushed into pieces. the man quickly throws you away, so he can focus all his energy on sukuna.

but, sukuna instead moves to be right by your side and shields you from the ground.

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you a bit closer.

his eyes carefully scan you; he clenches his jaw at the sight of the blood. he carefully wipes it and moves your face towards him with one of his hands. he speaks up, “you alive?”

“don’t you ignore me, sukuna—” the man sneers, but he is quickly silenced. he sees his tongue flying to the ground. the sight scares him to the core, he starts screaming—or his attempt at one.

his knees feel weak, and he falls to the ground. his blood pools slowly on the ground.

sukuna shifts your focus back to him again, and you respond slowly, “alive and kicking,” raising a thumbs up. he nods and gently lays you down on the ground.

you wince a little and complain lightly, “this place is dusty.”

he hums, “wait a second.”

your husband rises to his feet and turns to the man. sukuna approaches the man, taking his time with each step. anger swirls violently inside of him, and his eyes looked down sharply at the man.

the sorcerer quivers and covers his mouth; he quickly backs up to the wall. he sukuna scoffs, “you’re still annoying even after taking your tongue out?”

the man’s pride almost causes him to retort back with a yell of his own.

but then sukuna snatches him up by the hair and stares him right in the eyes, “for every strand of hair you’ve touched on her head, I will make you bellow in pain till your vocal chords are ripped into shreds.”

you groan and stir lightly. you slowly open your eyes and examine your surroundings. you’re back in the castle; you smile and relax back into your pillow.

“so you’ve finally awaken?”

you turn to your husband with a grin, “hey handsome.”

“why did you leave the castle?”

straight to the point. you prop yourself up on the pillow and sit up. you look at him then look away, “it’s kind of embarrassing actually.”

“not your first,” he responds, and you pointedly ignore him.

“I wanted to greet you before you arrived at the gate,” you murmur then quip, “but I didn’t even go beyond the fence! I was still in the area!”

he listens quietly and sits beside you. he pulls you against his chest, “you do not need to do anything like that.”

you look up at him with a small smile and he finds himself letting out a small breath—of fondness?—he closes his eyes and speaks in absolute manner, “you should know that I will always come for you.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will write your name on the list I give to sylus

[sectumsempraaa]

Send Him My Regards

Pairing: fem!reader x idk they’re all in love with you LOL, but Draco's down bad

Summary: You aren’t one to provoke the aggressive nature of your closest friend group (a bunch of reckless Slytherin boys) but when the new hire at your favorite bookstore makes you uncomfortable, you’re forced to ask for their… “help.”

Word Count: 2.5k

Featuring: The whole damn crew. Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy, Blaise, Lorenzo

TW: Implied non-consensual touching/comments, implied violence, panic/mental distress, cursing, disgustingly fluffy

Notes: This is based on something I recently experienced, as many of you have, too. I tried my best to convey my very real thoughts on this matter. Avoiding threatening men is a constant, everyday struggle. If you can relate, this is for you.

“Love, you already own every book in the world.” Draco proclaims, staggering behind you with his pack of Slytherin watch dogs.

Whenever you go anywhere as a group, they always let you lead so they can keep an eye on your surroundings. You think it’s silly, but it’s their thing, and you secretly appreciate the protection, so you let them be. It makes them feel important, and you find it endearing.

“I most certainly do not! Only like… two hundred.” You respond, muttering the number under your breath.

“Then I’ll buy you every book in the world. Must we come here every weekend?” he groans. Of course, Mattheo interrupts, shooting Draco a furrowed brow.

“Mate, for the love of god, either stop coming on these trips, or use some of that fancy cash you love to go on about to take us elsewhere. Pick one.” Mattheo sneers. Naturally, he’s carrying your bag and coat, making sure you never lift a finger. His response earns a smirk from you.

You’re not really listening though, more so taking in the beauty of Hogsmeade. You love escaping the castle for the little town on perfect, brisk days like this one, hitting everyone’s favorite shops and downing a couple of butterbeers.

The boys continue arguing in the background as you make your way down the cobblestone street, your hair blowing softly in the chill of the November breeze. Blaise and Theo share an eye roll with each other before coming to your side, leaving the two to bicker as they trail behind. Theo steps in, heaving a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. His words drip with that rich Italian accent.

“Ignore them, bella. We’ll wait for you outside.” You smile at him and he gives you a wink. A man of few words, but oozing with charm. He will occasionally act as a grounding force when the others get rowdy. You hear Draco drag on about how he “earned” his money or whatever.

“Oh wow, a real rags to riches story!” Mattheo shouts, lunging at Draco. You shake your head laughing with Blaise, sending you a look that reads as “I’ll take care of them.” You enter the bookshop, making the bell ring as the door opens.

The first thing you notice is the shiny new display of fantasy books you’ve been dying to get your hands on. You make your way towards it, not being able to contain the thrill on your face. You’ve been waiting for this series to restock and here they are, all of them, ready to be yours. You touch the smooth covers, tracing your fingers over the author’s name on each one.

The second thing you notice is… him. Your heart drops as your sheer excitement instantly morphs into dread.

Please, not again. 

The new hire at this bookstore has ruined the last couple of trips for you. You were hoping he would stop working weekends but… there he is. And he eyes you right away, like you’re on his radar.

The first time you came in, it was the comments. Calling you pet names, pointing out his favorite features on you, and it was relentless. You somehow got through it and attempted to shake it off, praying he would quit or just get fired before your next trip.

The second time, it was the touching. Brushing against your back when trying to “get through”, his hand grabbing your arm too tightly while he led you down an aisle. You tripped on your way out while trying to make a swift escape, and of course he was there to “catch you”, only giving him an excuse to grip both hands around your waist, hesitant to release you.

Your eyes go between the book display and his movements as he starts creeping his way out from behind the counter. You have to make a split-second decision to either stay and endure, or leave safely and empty handed. It pains you but your nerves heighten as he gets closer. Panic sets in as colors blur and sounds become muffled. Your brain and your body and your heart scream together in unison: “danger.”

You burst through the door back outside with a speed and force that could only be conjured by your anxiety. Facing the door, you stumble backwards and let out a gasp when you land in someone’s familiar arms. You recognize the brown suede material of Theo’s jacket as you attempt to catch your breath. It seems no amount of oxygen could suffice at the moment.

“Bella, bella, what’s wrong?” He asks urgently, hoisting you back up to your feet. The others notice the incident and immediately stride their way over. Draco, always leading the pack, puts his hands on your shoulders and lowers his eyes to your level.

“Hey, look at me,” he coos, forcing you out of your episode. He speaks with a tenderness that is almost heartbreaking. “What happened, love? Are you quite alright?”

There’s too many thoughts and feelings swimming around in your head to give an honest answer. Everything is moving in slow motion and you need time to regroup. Swallowing your fear, you decide to lie, at least for now. The last thing you want to do is impulsively encourage their hostility.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you respond, avoiding his gaze. He looks at you, deciding whether to believe you. “Really, I am.” You add. He glances down to your empty hands.

“You left without a book. You always buy a book.” He says, speaking with suspicion in his voice. The others stay back, knowing when to give Draco his space. They all adore you, but Draco would do things you’d rather not think about in order to keep you happy and safe. And he has. It’s been like this since you can remember. 

“Just didn’t have what I wanted, is all.” You explained. The doubt on his face is evident. He speaks just above a whisper.

“Y/N, you know we would take care of anyone that so much as breathes near you wrong, yeah? It’s important to me that you know this.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mattheo ditching his cigarette and cracking his knuckles. You give a small nod and a shrug, releasing yourself from his hands and walking back in the direction of the castle. Your head is still reeling, but not enough to block out the boys’ debriefing behind you.

First, Mattheo. “She rarely ever gets like that.”

Then Theo. “Only when she panics.” And Blaise. “Her face was almost as pale as Malfoy’s.”

And Draco, but with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “She barely looked at me.” He glances in your direction, contemplating. “Give her time. We’ll look after her tonight. Someone tell Pansy.”

The rest you don’t hear, feeling embarrassment creeping in. You wish they’d just let it go and forget about it, cowering from the attention it’s bringing to you. Your pace quickens as the heat spreads across your cheeks, eager to be alone in your hideout at the castle.

Too focused on your path, you slam into someone’s chest as they’re coming out of the bakery you’re passing.

“Ugh, Lorenzo, I’m so sorry,” you say frantically, smoothing out his jacket and moving past him, never meeting his gaze. His face contorts with confusion and concern. He watches you take off then turns back to the group.

“Something off with that one...” The boys give him a knowing look.

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo sneers.

—

After what felt like an eternity, you had reached the castle and darted to your hideout: a corner balcony high up in one of the towers facing the pitch. Leaning your elbows on the edge of the balcony, you watch the sun slowly descend into its eventual bed of twilight. Then, the spiraling begins.

Thinking back, you’ve never really dealt with something like this because of who your friends were. No one dared to even step too close to you, aware of what the consequences would be. But you weren’t on school grounds this time. You felt… unprepared. Lost. Violated. Guilty.

Does running away make me weak?

Why can’t I stand up for myself?

How did he gain control so quickly?

Did I ask for it? Did I do something wrong?

This is too much. It feels ridiculous and quite frankly enraging that you considered this being your fault. The stress is exhausting.

You let yourself relax, laying down on a stone bench and staring up at the black night sky. You start to mentally identify the stars in view, something Draco taught you to do when you’d get anxious. It always worked, as evident by the many hours you fell asleep. Upon awakening, you gasp as your watch reads 1AM.

You hear footsteps rustling around nearby, and echoing voices calling your name. Shit. They’re looking for me.

Sneaking around corners, you tiptoe around, trying not to get yourself noticed. Maybe, just maybe you can get back to the dungeons without getting caught. Until you hear the voice of your best friend, who admittedly, you could really use right now.

“Pans?” You whisper, catching a glimpse of her shadow down the corridor. Her head whips around before running to you urgently.

“Where the hell have you been?! The boys are going mad looking for-” She stops abruptly when you force yourself into her arms, hugging her tight and burying your face in her shoulder. Her tone softens to that of an older sister. “Oh, Y/N,” She rubs your back while your eyes well up.

“Fuck, Pans, I don’t know what to do.” You say through subtle sobs, holding back as much as you can for her sake. She looks at you with a questioning look before your words stumble out, caked in distress.

“There’s a boy at the bookstore, MY bookstore, and-and, and he’s there all the time now, following me around, and…”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re okay. It’s just me, sweetie.” She says, running a hand through your hair as her eyes shift to someone behind you; their voice deep, slow, and filled with angst.

“There’s… a… what?” He asks, the voice you recognize as Draco’s ringing off the walls. Mattheo, Theo, and Blaise walk into frame behind him when they realize he found you. The sight of them strikes you; your fiercely loyal group of friends that would go to the ends of the earth for you. To your surprise, you are relieved to see them.

But their anger is palpable. Draco’s jaws clenched tight. Theo’s heavy eyes claiming the darkness. Blaise’s hands rolled into fists. Lorenzo steps forward, eyes soft, holding out a gentle hand. 

“Let’s get you to the common room, and you can tell us-” he turns to the other boys before emphasizing his next words, “-what you’re comfortable with, if you want to talk at all.”

You nod in agreement, taking his hand while Pansy takes your other one. In your head, you’re thanking whatever higher power put Lorenzo on this planet. The voice of reason amidst all chaos.

—

It’s nearly 2AM now. You’re sat on the common room couch in front of the blazing fireplace under a mess of blankets, warming up after your frigid nap. Theo on your left, Lorenzo on your right holding your tea, Draco and Mattheo sitting on the coffee table facing you, with Blaise and Pansy on the floor. All with mixed looks of curiosity, empathy, and sheer rage.

After thinking it over, you decided to prioritize yourself for once. A lot of people don’t realize how hard a decision that can be. This is a risky favor to ask for. But there’s only a couple truly precious things in the world you can’t live without, and this is one of them. You want your fucking bookstore back.

So, you tell them. Everything.

As you recall the events of the last few weeks, you feel the air become tense. Blaise looks like he’s about to combust. Theo reaches for your hand, letting you fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist. You hear Pansy call this boy every name in the book under her breath, your favorite being “bastardly filth”. Draco and Mattheo listen, periodically looking at each other with knowing stares, having their own wordless conversation. You know those looks. Plotting looks.

When you finish, you’re briefly met with silence, temporarily paralyzing you. Do they believe me?

You break the stillness. “I suppose I’m making a big deal out of something quite trivial.” You say to them, diminishing your story, and for what?

Mattheo stands up, ushering Blaise and Pansy out of the way as he kneels in front of you. He rests a comforting hand on your knee, his eyes glowing with brutal honesty.

“It’s really very simple, little dove. You’re in danger, we take down the threat. I can assure you we all agree that your safety is anything but trivial.” He states. He gives your knee a squeeze. “Gonna be honest though, Y/N. It’s going to be ugly for him when he meets us.”

You look up to Draco, who’s been oddly quiet since you all got back. You hold his gaze as you respond.

“Good. Send him my regards.” You reply, earning a wicked grin from him, his eyes suddenly crinkled and brimming with pride. Everyone shifts a bit in their seats, wrapping up the late night discussion.

Draco strides over to you, taking the teacup from your hands and setting it down on a side table. He looks so handsome like this, facing you on the couch with his hair disheveled and the top of his shirt buttons undone. The glow from the fire accenting his features, so sharp yet yearning for sleep. He takes your face in his warm hands.

“I need you to hear me right now. Listening?” he asks. You give an unconvincing nod as his thumb caresses your cheek. Yes, but damn you make it hard to.

His stare intensifies, pulling you from your trance and forcing you to dial in to his statement.

“Never feel bad for wanting them to pay for the pain and discomfort they inflict on you. Their reasons were senseless, yours are justified.”

For the first time tonight, just for a moment, you feel sure of yourself. You wrap your arms around him, pulling yourself closer, his body becoming your safe haven. His hands nestle you to his chest as you feel him place a kiss on the top of your head.

He loves you and you know it. He’ll wait for this to pass, for things to be right. He’ll wait for you to feel whole and secure again. And he’ll do whatever it takes to help you get you there, even if that means giving you space.

As Pansy sees the two of you off to bed, you repeat his sentiment to her. “My god, that bloody boy is down bad, and I mean bad, for you Y/N.”

Ascending the staircase to your dorm, you faintly hear Draco informing the boys of the plan.

“Tomorrow. Noon.” He demands. The boys nod. He pauses before adding another instruction.

“Oh, and we’re gonna need a bag. We’ve got books to bring home.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[papercorgiworld]

Apologies and love confessions

The Slytherins guy’s are jealous because you have a date. When your date flops, they show up: to make up or make out, or both…

General story introduction and then you pick your favourite Slytherin. Or all of them, I won’t judge.

Theo, Blaise, Enzo, Draco and Mattheo.

Warning: a little bit of smut bc of Enzo and Mattheo ofc.

Not proofread, so if a sentence hurts your brain, my apologies. Let me know and safe an innocent reader.

After months of not writing, I present you… whatever this is.

You took one last look in the mirror and turned to your friends, Pansy and Hermione. “Acceptable?” You asked sheepishly. “More than acceptable.” Hermione smiled. “Hot.” Pansy bluntly stated.

It was a late Saturday afternoon as you made your way to the great hall to meet your date. A few days ago, Neal - a Ravenclaw one year older than you - had asked you out. You hadn’t talked much but all of your friends liked him and he wasn’t bad looking. As you almost reached the great hall you ran into the notorious Slytherin boys. When you spotted them you wanted to turn on your heels, but Enzo already called for you. “Y/n, you’re looking fine.” He slurred the last word a bit as he looked you up and down. Your cheeks went red as all the guys stared. “Ah, your date’s today, right?” Blaise asked nonchalantly. You nodded, getting a little nervous. “What was his name again? Dirk… Dean?” Draco asked with his usual voice filled with arrogance and annoyance. His eyebrows went up and down as he leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. “Neal. And I should be going.” You blurted. Theodore was slow to move aside and you passed him, his eyes never leaving you. As you walked away you could hear Mattheo snicker and your heart sank.

Up until recently you had gotten along with them just fine. You were Pansy’s friend and by association also theirs. Just like you were Ron and Harry’s friend because of your friendship with Hermoine. However, there was a difference. You always wanted to be liked by the Slytherin guys, or just by one. Unfortunately, ever since you mentioned you were going on a date they had collectively decided to ridicule your every move. Making you feel terribly insecure.

***

Your date flopped. Neal was a great guy. Accept for the fact that he was obviously still hung up on his ex-girlfriend. When you entered the Three Broomsticks and chose a table near a window, he told you his ex liked to sit by the window too. When you ordered drinks, Neal told you his ex didn’t like your choice of drink. When he mentioned her for a third time, you fell silent and gave him a tight lipped smile. Oh Merlin. This was the worst.

After a little over an hour you said your awkward goodbyes. You started to walk back to Hogwarts, dreading the idea of telling your friends about your date or worse all those other gossiping people finding out.

As you arrived at the courtyard the ones you wanted to avoid most were there. You tried to subtly speed walk past them. This time it was Mattheo who was first to speak. “Y/n! You’re back early.” You simply sighed and Mattheo smirked. “How long were you gone? Didn’t even last two hours.” Mattheo turned to Theodore who let out a short laugh. Pansy who sat next to Enzo shot up and started yelling. “Oi, shut it!” Your friend took your arm to guide you away from them, towards the castle. “Pay up, Blaisy-boy. Not even two hours, so I win.” You heard Riddle say and you shot one last look at them, seeing how Blaise grimaced and reached inside his pockets to pay up. You were nothing more than a joke to them.

Pansy held onto your arm while you walked towards your common room. Hermoine spotted you from afar and pushed Ron and Harry aside to get to you. “So how was i…” Hermoine’s question was cut of my Pansy aggressive signal to shut up. “So, should we hex him?” Hermoine suggested as she saw that your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, it’s not him. I mean it was a bad date. But, so what. No biggie. But those, those, those… twats! They, they are the worst!” You yell, attracting the attention of students nearby. Hermoine looks over to Pansy with a confused look. “Will hex all five of them.” Pansy said and Hermoine caught on, she knew exactly which five morons you were talking about.

You nodded and sighed. “I need a moment alone. I’m going up to the astronomy tower for some quiet time.” Your friends were understanding and you left.

Theodore

“This is my hang-out.” Theodore says, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. “This is the spot people go to when they’re sad. If this is your hang-out, then that says a lot about you.” Theo halts for a moment, feeling a little exposed by your analysis, but joins you nevertheless, his arms resting on the railing. You notice how he plays with a cigarette between his fingers. “I won’t light it. I know you don’t like it when I smoke.” You raise your eyebrows. “I also don’t like it when you ridicule me, but that’s never stopped you or your merrie band of delinquents from mocking me.” Now, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

He’s about to open his mouth and give you some lame excuse for his behavior, but you stare at him with unimpressed eyes. So, he closes his mouth and lets out a nervous laugh. He takes a step back from the railing and throws his hands up in surrender. “I’ll admit, I’ve not been on my best behavior the past week.” Now, he has your full attention. You wanna hear what he has to say. “But neither have you.” He points to you and you scoff, no longer wanting to listen. “Going on a date with… what’s his name again. Of course everyone’s laughing.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Unbelievable.” You sigh.

“How about you go out with me? No one will laugh.” When you didn’t immediately respond he tried to sell the idea a little. “I’ll tell Matt and the others to behave. No more mocking.” You tilt your head in amusement to his suggestion. This guy, unbelievable. “You can do that, tell them to behave?” Theo takes a step closer towards you, leaving no space between you two. “Uhu.” He absentmindedly breathes while his hand softly caresses your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And will you behave?” You ask, subtly taunting him. “I’ll be good.” He says softly and licks his lip.

“I’ll think about it.” You say taking a step and putting some distance between you two. But Theo quickly reaches for your arm, pulling you back towards him. “Don’t play with me.” As soon as you look into his eyes, his lips are on yours. The kiss is filled with longing, his thumb brushing your cheek as he pulls you in. Theo pushes you against the railing, never breaking the kiss. Your hand finds their way to his messy hair. The more you tug on one another and push into each other, the sloppier the kiss gets. He squeezes your ass and as a reflex you gently buck your hips into him. “Fuck.” He growls. You smile at his reaction and seize the moment to push him away.

Walking past him, you never take your eyes off the confused man. “I’m looking forward to that date.”

Blaise

“I lost a bet because of you.” Blaise says with a loud voice while he’s still on the stairs almost at the top, but still out of sight. You turn towards the stairs waiting for him to arrive. “I mean really, not even two hours.” “No.” You cross your arms in annoyance. “I mean you're annoying sometimes, but-“ You shove his shoulder. “I was not annoying! I AM never annoying. I’m a blessing to be around.” He raises his eyebrows, but you ignore him and continue your rant. “You! You on the other hand are frankly unbelievably childish!” You poke his chest, being more than a little shocked at how muscular he is, but you push that thought aside. “Betting on my misery, have you no shame!”

He spreads his arms in defense. “Well, that was Mattheo’s idea. No morals, that guy.” You raise an eyebrow in response. Just Mattheo. Think not. All of you, you’re a bunch of demon children. “You joined in.” You throw at him, like a lawyer making their case. “And lost.” Blaise says sheepishly. “Don’t be mad at me. I lost money, my day is already bad enough.” You turn on your heels, away from him. “Well what about my shitty day.”

“Ah, about that, your shitty day, I can make it better.” In a split second you’re facing him again, eyes shining with curiosity. “This better be good, Zabini.” He simply grinned. “There’s this guy, who’s been into you for months now. Incredibly hot. Sixpack and everything. Really into quidditch, a bit of a jock, but also really likes wizard chess and magic history. And has a soft side, secretly loves to watch muggle-movies. That’s some boyfriend material, uh?” You’ve been nodding along searching for the catch.

“What’s the catch, Zabini, no dude’s that good. Definitely not one that happens to have a thing for me.” He smiles as takes a step closer. “He would like to ask you out. So.. what do y’say?” You drop your head and shake no. “I’m not going out with him until you tell me what the catch is.” “Fineee, the catch is… he’s me.” You frown in confusion. “You, Blaise Zabini, want to go out with me?” A nervous and adorable smile appears on his face. “Yeah, and I would like it to last longer than two hours.” You give his shoulder a little push. “Depends, are you going to talk about your ex the entire time?” “What? That’s how Dirk ruined your date? What a git.” His name was Neal, but whatever. I got a new and better date.

Enzo

Enzo has his back against the railing. His eyes trace your face. “Didn’t go well did it?” Your eyes meet his and he sees your forehead wrinkle at his stupid question. “Well, look on the bright side. You’re back on the market.” You shift yourself so you’re leaning against the railing with your side and facing Enzo. “I was never off the market. I went on one date.” He also shifted so he’s facing you. “Yeah, you’re right. I was overreacting. I shouldn’t have worried so much.” You look confused at him, but he doesn’t immediately explain. “Why were you worried?”

“Well, uhm, you know, maybe you would’ve liked him.” He tried his best to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. You took a small step towards him. “Why would that be a bad thing?” He huffed like the answer was obvious. “Because it’s wrong to ask out a girl who's dating.” You frown. “You’ve lost me, Enzo, I don’t follow.”

“Wait, wait. This will clear it up.” He closes the space between you two and cups your cheek. What followed was the softest kiss ever. After a moment you both opened your eyes, but didn’t move away from each other. “See, I couldn’t have done that if you were dating Neal.” You nodded. “I follow.” You brushed your lips over his. A cheeky smile covered his face. “You know, if you’re interested… there are a lot of things we can do now that it’s just you and me.” “Care to give an example.”

“My pleasure.” Is all he says before his hands find their way to your hips lifting you up. Your legs tangle around him as he pushes you against a wall. The cold stone makes you arch into him. His mouth nips on the flesh of your neck. “You and I should go on a date.” Enzo breathes in between kisses. “You two need to find a room.” You're both startled by Neville’s sudden appearance. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Enzo says, looking at you with lust. “Mine or yours?” You ask as you lick your bottom lip.

Draco

You sighed, letting the view and silence calm you. Suddenly you hear footsteps and when you look up Draco’s walking towards you with his usual flair. “What a tool, that Neal-guy. Taking you to the Three Broomsticks.” You roll your eyes and look away from him. “You should’ve known, a guy like him is no good.” Before he opens his mouth again you whip your head around towards him, eyes ready to kill. “He’s no good? Neal’s not the problem. You are! You’re no good, with you mocking and ridiculing. You’ve been acting like a total ass the last few days! So get lost, Malfoy!”

Draco remains quiet for a moment. The frown on his face grows as he realizes his jealousy might have taken the upper hand these past few days. Falling back in his normal composure, his hands reach for the cold railing as he comes to stand next to you. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea. You, going out with him. You need someone who buys you a dress and takes you to a fancy place.” When you look up at him in confusion, he continues staring in front of him. “I think you deserve better.” You huff, indulging his lame excuse for his behavior. “Know any guy like that?” You blurt out thinking back to your miserable date.

Draco inspects the rings on his fingers as he searches for the courage to say what he so badly wanted to say these last couple of days. “Me.” He says so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you did and you look up at him with wide eyes. Where is this going? “I would like to take you somewhere fancy. Spoil you.” You let out a laugh and he immediately snaps at you. “No, need to laugh. A simple ‘no thanks’ would have sufficed.” You press your lips together and take a step towards him. The scowl on his face falls when your hand reaches for his tie, gently playing with it. “I think I’m going to take you up on that offer, Malfoy.” Your face inches towards him and his lips brush yours.

The kiss immediately becomes more passionate and his hand tangles in your hair holding you in place. His other hand snakes to the small of your back pulling you close. You whimper softly at the feeling of your bodies against one another. This gives him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss even more. You break apart to catch your breath, but you stay close. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” Draco scoffs. “Not. It’s simply a matter of principle. Classy women belong with classy men.” You roll your eyes. “Draco, kiss more, talk less.” He huffs in annoyance, but obliges.

Mattheo

“I told you so.” Mattheo’s voice sang as he approached you. You didn’t turn around, instead you just rolled your eyes. “That guy just wasn’t for you. Don’t be so upset about it.” You shook your head. What’s he even doing here? Shouldn’t he be laughing behind your back with friends? When you stayed quiet Mattheo got worried and his tone softened. “He didn’t hurt you or anything? ‘Caus I’ll deal with him. He’ll never bother you again.” Okay that’s it, Riddle. You angrily grab onto the railing you were leaning on before turning around fuming. “He didn’t hurt me. He was just boring. But you on the other hand, you hurt me with your constant mockery. So why don’t you punch yourself in the face and stop bothering me.” Mattheo looked away from you for a moment, making you think he actually felt bad. But when he looked back up, he was back to being his cocky self. “Can’t punch this pretty face.” He said, pointing at himself, grinning.

You turned away from him, hoping that he would leave. You couldn’t see it but his face fell again, really feeling bad about hurting you with his stupid jokes. “I just knew he wasn’t the guy for you.” No reaction from you. “Look, we can split my win from the bet with Blaise.” You let your head fall, looking at him from the corner of your eyes. The audacity. He came to stand next to you and also rested his arms on the railing. “I know, I can be an ass sometimes. So, just tell me, love, how do I make this right.” Your eyes meet his, you’re surprised by his gesture. “I guess it’s alright. I’m a forgiving soul.” He turns away from the view, towards you and lays a hand on the small of your back. “No, don’t be forgiving. I’ll do anything to make this right.”

He uses his body language to make it clear that he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you, shuffling closer, leaning into you and licking his lips suggestively. “Are you really trying to seduce me into forgiving you?” You ask not believing that that’s the best he can come up with. “Well no, love, I’m going to fuck you into forgiving me.” This man. Who does he think he is… well, the dark lord’ son, but still. Unbelievable. Mattheo falls to his knees, his hands moving from your back, sliding over your ass to your legs. He looks up at you with soft eyes before gently pushing your skirt up. This man… should be my future husband. Mattheo places soft kisses on your thight, slowly getting closer to your panties.

You close your eyes and let out a soft moan as he gently tugs down your panties. “If we get caught up here. I’m never going to forgive you.” He places a featherlight kiss between your legs and you instinctively reach for his curls. “Are you sure? Because I think I’m really excelling at apologizing, don’t you think so, love?” Damn you, Riddle. You’re good, and you know it.

[vividxpages]

✩˚౨ৎ˚✩‧The Great War PART 1 ✩₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 2 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 1700

summary: Jace and you are lovers, but stand on opposite sides of the war, not allowed to see each other anymore. But love always finds a way. (inspired by “The Great War” by Taylor Swift)

warnings: angst, reader is Alicents's daughter, the Greens being a bad family, hurt/comfort!, kissing

a/n: help, I'm obsessed with this boy and every song starts to sound like a possible fic idea for him!!!

𓆩♡𓆪

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

Sometimes, you could only breathe above the clouds.

Up here on your dragon’s back, the trouble you left behind underneath you did not matter anymore. You thought of the castle that slowly poisoned you from the inside, the dark nights where you thought you were completely alone in the world with no comfort in reach but the memories you carried with yourself.

Once there had been laughter at the dinner table, the halls filled with the family you had not seen in months. Now, you only saw your brothers and your mother together in one room during council. You shuddered at the memory of today’s meeting, snuggling deeper into the saddle and closer to the dragon who kept you safe in the sky.

(“Maybe we should send our dear sister.” Your brother Aegon had proposed at some frustrating point of an endless council, taking a deep swig from the wine glass in front of him.

You had simply stared at him, silent. No one was really listening to you anyway and you were past the point of turning to your mother pleadingly. She was just as silent, always frowning, always doing nothing. “What do you mean, Aegon?”

“We can weaken them from the inside.” He had spoken to the others then, who at least looked so confused as you had felt. “Send them my little precious sister who a certain bastard son always had a weak spot for. I don’t see the problem if you kill him while you’re fuck-“

Your chair had screeched over the floor and fell down with a loud thud on the stone floor. You had clenched your hands into fists as you stood, fury in your eyes.

“Aegon, stop with such nonsense.” Alicent had said quietly, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You fled.)

You welcomed the tears on your cheeks like an old friend, letting them cool your skin as you stirred your dragon through the sky, opting to just turn right and never come back to Westeros.

But oh, how your heart still clung to them.

The family up north in the realm, the family you had lost forever in the middle of his conflict.

Suddenly, you felt your dragon tense and directed your attention to the west, where a shape of a big shadow flickered through the clouds. Your mind began to race with what you’d do if Aemond had followed you, always being damned to bring you back when you had strayed too far away from Kings Landing.

But this shadow was not big enough to be Vhagar.

And those dark curls did not belong to your brother.

You gasped as your dragon let out a recognizing screech, lunging forwards through the clouds until you and the other rider could almost touch at how close your beasts were.

Time seemed to slow down as they flew past each other, teasingly snapping at each other’s necks with the joy of being reunited, but there was no doubt. As you raced through the skies, you looked into your Jace’s eyes.

You let out a broken gasp and quickly looked over your shoulder, but he and Vermax were already out of reach, descending down beneath the clouds. And suddenly, you knew where he was going. You spurned your dragon on, the wind cutting into your skin as you raced after them, faster and faster until you let your dragon spread its wings for a quick landing by the beach Jacaerys had chosen.

Only the silver moonlight illuminated the shore by the cliffs, void of any other soul who could witness the forbidden reunion between the two of you. If you had been in company, Jacaerys would’ve already been dead or held captive.

But you were alone, for the first time in months.

You slid down your dragon’s back, nearly blind by the need to reach him, to throw yourself into his arms like you had dreamed so often.

When you had seen each other for the last time, there had not been a war yet.

And Luke had been still alive.

(You had cried for hours when Aemond had returned, blood still drying on Vhagar’s massive teeth. You had begged your mother to write a letter, just a simple letter to Jace, but everything at court had still been too fragile to do anything but be in shock over what had happened up there. It had nearly driven you mad, to know that somewhere Jace was suffering the loss of his little brother and there was nothing you could do to comfort him.)

Now, he was right there in front of you, leaving Vermax behind him and running towards you on the wet sand by the water. You broke out into a sprint as well, a disbelieving laugh that was anything but amused leaving your tight throat as his features became more and more clear to you.

You crashed together like two waves.

The embrace was nearly violent as his arms slung themselves around you, lifting you up and pressing you into him. There was no strength in your bones anymore and if Jace wouldn’t have held you so tightly, you would’ve crashed onto the ground, shattering into a million pieces.

Only Jace was holding you together right now.

He was everything you had been missing in those terrible weeks. He smelled like sea and wind and smoke and your hands shook as you combed through his wet curls, your tear-streaked face securely hidden in his neck.

You never wanted to let go of him and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

“Gods- my love…” He mumbled into your ear and you let out a choked sob as you held each other. It was like he could not decide where he wanted to touch you first. His hands drifted over you restlessly, up and down your spine, holding onto you as if you could disappear again at any moment.

“How did you find me?” You asked breathlessly, your bottom lip still trembling dangerously as you caressed his cheeks, needing to refamiliarize yourself with the feel of his skin on yours.

He swallowed thickly, unshed tears glistening in his beautiful years. “I remembered the route you liked to take when you needed to stop thinking. And it’s cloudy today. No one saw me coming. I’ve been waiting for a cloudy night like this for weeks-“

His voice broke and you pulled him closer again, shudders of pain and longing and relief to be with him going through you in an endless loop. How much had changed since the last time you had seen eye to eye: Your father had always said you’d make a good match back then and now Jace had one brother less and you were a captive in your own home.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out on the ocean. “I- oh Jace, I tried to write, I wanted to send you a letter, but- I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t help you and-“

“It’s okay.” He said, but it sounded lifeless, void. “It’s not your fault. I wished I could’ve been there for you too. I know how much you loved Luke.”

Gods, you wanted to cry and never stop again. Even now, Jace was trying to be strong for you, as he had always been.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” He told you and cupped your cheek, looking deeply and longingly into your eyes. “I missed you every second we’ve been apart. Have you been treated well? Have Aegon and Aemond-“

“I love you too. I want to come with you.” You interrupted him fiery and he shuddered at the insane idea of it, the consequences unimaginable and likely deadly for one of you. “Please, please, let me come with you, I can’t stay a single day there, my mother is not the same anymore and- my brothers have been horrible with the things they want to do to Rhaenyra and you.”

He shushed you gently, drawing his arms tighter around you and swaying you back and forth. “I’ll find a way. I’m not letting you stay there alone for much longer, my love. It makes me sick to think about you being alone in Kings Landing, believe me, but…mother says it’s not safe, not yet-“

“I won’t cause your family any trouble, I promise-“

“It’s not us we’re fearing for.” He smiled sadly at you. “It’s you. I won’t summon your brother’s anger on you. I’d rather take it on myself, but- we need to be a little more patient, okay?”

You could see how much effort those words cost him and you had no doubt if it was his choice to make, he’d take you with him to Dragonstone and never look back. You watched his throat bump with tension, his jaw set, his lips pressed together tightly.

A sudden small smile danced over your face. “So you only came to me tonight because you wanted to see me?”

His eyes were dark with longing, with wanton he could not give in to, not tonight. “My love...I needed to see you.” His thumb lovingly brushed over your cheek, the pad of it briefly touching your lips.

There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you needed to tell him and hear from him, but in this short moment you were only a girl and he was a boy. Your boy.

 He met you right in the middle, delicately holding your face between his hands as your lips met, desperately kissing you as his taste exploded in your mouth once again. He kissed you drunk, enveloping all your senses until all you felt was him. His lips were dry and salty from the long flight over the clouds and along the coast, your runny noses sliding against each other, but it was perfect.

Your heart was mended with every little sigh into your mouth, his long lashes brushing over your cheeks, your hands tangling in his hair…

You thought that maybe, in another lifetime, the two of you could’ve been able to stop the war.

Another part of you knew that you always had been damned, cursed.

You blinked into the starless grey sky above you as Jace began to ravish your neck with wet kisses and you thought of the old saying passed on from generation to generation.

Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

On which side would yours land if you ever lost him?

On which would his land when it finally sank in that he could never have you?

[phefics]

veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed. 

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

[ellecdc]

rosekiller & their 'platonic' girlfriend

rosekiller x 'platonic' girlfriend!reader when they find out it's not exactly platonic

CW: Evan & Barty threaten someone's life, Barty says he's in love and will die a lot

A/N: ........ I'm finally trying Evan out guysssss 😮‍💨🫣, prompt based off of this post and this post

click here for part two

“Wow.” Sirius called as he looked you up and down salaciously in a way you knew was solely for the purpose of riling Barty up. “I almost didn’t recognise you without your third, L/N.” 

You were wholly incapable of biting back a scoff and an eye roll as you used your arm to stop Barty from approaching the troublesome Black. “I am the third, Black.” 

And of course where there was Sirius Black, one could be certain that James Potter wasn’t far behind him. “Not with the way you walk those two like dogs.” He called as he sidled up beside Sirius with a cocky grin. 

“It’s not like that- Salazar’s saggy balls, why am I explaining myself to you rotten dugbogs?” You grumbled as you grabbed Barty by the arm and continued the way you had been going before the interruption. 

“It could be like that you know?” Barty flirted, earning him a smack in the arm. 

“Sod off.”

You had found friendship in Barty and Evan after the two of them had already started dating.

Were they flirty with you? Sure.

Did the three of you spend a lot of time together? Yes.

Did you have some…fun from time to time? Absolutely. 

But you weren’t together; at least not in the way that everyone seemed to suggest. 

“Where are we going now?” Barty asked happily as he allowed you to guide him through the castle.

“We’re looking for your boyfriend; he promised to lend me that book he was telling me about.”

Barty barely had time to make a hum of acknowledgment before the two of you turned a corner to the sight of Evan Rosier.

Evan Rosier….who was currently holding a poor Ravenclaw bloke up against the wall by the collar of his uniform shirt. 

“Oh yay! We’re fighting!” Barty called happily as he all but skipped towards his boyfriend. 

“Rosier! What are you doing!?” You hissed as you tried to catch up to Barty’s longer strides. 

“Yeah Rosey! Why are we killing Fenwick today!?” Barty asked enthusiastically. 

You watched as Evan’s jaw twitched before he answered. “Heard him talking about shagging L/N at the Hufflepuff party tonight.”

Barty made an understanding hum as if saying ‘fair enough’ which you did not understand nor find ‘fair enough’ at all, whilst poor Fenwick seemed to swallow nervously. 

“So what?” You asked then, causing all three boys to look at you bemusedly. 

“What do you mean so what!?” Barty asked you incredulously.

“Well…” You started, really not understanding what the sodding hang up here was. “We’re not together?” You stated in the form of a question as you gestured between you, Evan, and Barty.

Evan stood there staring at you with furrowed brows for approximately half a minute (still with Fenwick pinned against the wall, mind you) before a brief look of understanding crossed his face. 

“Circe’s fucking tits.” He breathed out disbelievingly before turning to look at Barty “We’re in love with her.” 

A confused sound was caught in your throat as Barty threw his hands up in exasperation. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you lot, but no one ever listens to Barty!” 

“Last week you fucking told me you were in love with inventor of bellbottom jeans, Junior, how the hells am I supposed to know when you actually mean it?” Evan hissed back at him.

“I literally told you that I would die if anything ever happened to Treasure, how in the fuck is that platonic?!”

“You told me you were going to die when Laurie and Jo didn’t end up together!” Evan shouted back. 

Barty’s face turned severe as he leveled Evan with a look. “How dare you bring that up right now; you know I’m still grieving.”

“For the love of Merlin- Rosier! Put Fenwick down.” You barked at him, surprising both boys from their argument and alerting them to the fact that they were still holding their classmate hostage.

Evan turned back towards the bloke and muttered a threatening “Stay the fuck away from her, got it?” as Fenwick nodded quickly and all but sprinted the opposite way down the hall once Evan finally released his grip. 

Barty let out a pleased breath as he clapped his hands together excitedly. “Well! What do we do now?”

Evan stalked over and grabbed your hand, surprising you with the tenderness of the touch coming from someone who still looked so murderous.

He slowly bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before he was leading you by the hand towards the Great Hall.

“We’re going to go and make sure the rest of the sodding school knows she’s ours too.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up not entirely unpleasantly as you listened to the sound of Barty cackle happily from where he was trailing behind you.

[delulujuls]

the other one | jacaerys velaryon

hi, here comes the 2.7k of i don't know what, really. its for sure intense, so fasten up your saddle and enjoy the ride. i enjoyed making aegon such a cutiepie in my two last shots, but this man is designed to be a menace to humanity so yeah, i believe im gonna lose it in the next shots. prepare for chaos.

summary: heart want what it wants, and y/n's heart belong to young prince from dragonstone, not to the future cruel king of westeros.

warnings: targaryen brothers being mean to velaryon boys AGAIN, aegon is such a meanie oh god, fighting, arguing, threatening with a sword, last scene is smelling a bit like a rap3, so feel free to skip it. your comfort is the most important

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. jealous, possesive and dark!aegon targaryen)

Two young princes stood at the gates of the castle, awaiting guests. For several minutes they kept glancing at the sky, looking out for dragons. However, only the sound of wind and waves crashing against the rocks could be heard, with no indication that any winged beasts would soon appear before their eyes.

“Do you think they’ll come at all?” Lucerys asked his older brother, glancing at him. The cold wind chilled him to the bone, and the youngest of the Velaryons longed to return inside and sit by the fireplace.

Jacaerys did not get a chance to answer because shortly after, a muffled roar reached their ears, and something flickered in the low-hanging storm clouds. The heavy sky was pierced by the massive body of Vhagar, who was the first to emerge from the clouds and flew towards the beach. Close behind were Vermithor and Sunfyre, who looked dainty in comparison to those two giant dragons. Aemond, Y/N, and Aegon had arrived at Dragonstone.

Soon after, all four appeared at the castle gates. Helaena was flying with her older sister on Vermithor, choosing not to sail by ship with their mother, father, and grandfather. The youngest of the siblings still couldn't bring herself to travel alone on the back of her Dreamfyre, but felt confident with Y/N, now walking hand-in-hand with her sister towards the castle.

Lucerys took a step back, seeing Aemond and Aegon confidently striding towards them. The youngest Velaryon swallowed hard.

“I hope they don’t sit close to us,” he whispered, prompting his brother to discreetly nudge his arm.

Jacaerys smiled at the sight of the siblings. “Welcome, it’s good to see you here,” he said.

Aemond, leading the way, wore his characteristic grimace, nothing like the smile the young prince offered him. The last thing he felt like doing was feigning politeness. In silence, he merely glanced at them, bypassing them and pushing the heavy gate doors.

“My favorite, strong nephews,” Aegon said sarcastically, with a mocking smile. Passing by, he nudged Lucerys in the shoulder, who was about to turn and say something when his aunt’s voice reached his ears. Y/N smiled joyfully at the sight of Rhaenyra’s sons.

“Luke, Jace,” she extended her arms, hugging them both at once. Hearing the girl's joyful voice, Aegon glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. He thought his sisters were too lenient with those bastards.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Jacaerys smiled, embracing her and catching the smell of her lavender-scented hair. While he sincerely disliked Aemond and Aegon, he was very fond of their sisters. Helaena was shy and harmless, often speaking little and nodding more. Y/N, on the other hand, often reminded him of his mother, unafraid to speak up or defend her position. She was also wise and very pretty, and he was genuinely pleased to spend a few days in her presence.

“Are you coming, or are we going to freeze out here like a bunch of idiots?” Aegon asked sharply, seeing Y/N hold onto older Velaryon a bit too long. The young princess gave him an amused look, tousled Lucerys’ hair, and linked arms with Helaena. The four of them briskly walked towards the castle.

Rhaenyra was celebrating her thirty-second name day, so the entire family from King’s Landing had come to Dragonstone. Viserys wanted his daughter to celebrate her birthday in the capital, but she wished to spend the day her way. The ailing king, still battling illness, had no intention of arguing with his daughter, lacking the strength and health to do so. Even to the Targaryen seat, he chose to sail by ship rather than ride on the back of one of the dragons. After Balerion’s death, he had given up flying and now didn’t think about it at all.

During the evening feast, the dining hall filled with people. Despite it being Rhaenyra’s day, Viserys sat at the head of the table. To his left was his eldest daughter, beside her Daemon, Joffrey, Lucerys, Jacaerys, Rhaena, and Baela. On the king’s right sat his wife, next to her the Hand of the King, then Aemond, Aegon, Y/N, Helaena, and Rhaenys Targaryen, next to whom, at the other end of the table, sat Corlys Velaryon.

The feast went on in a calm and surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Previous feasts often ended in arguments before they even really began. The main instigators of all disputes, Aemond and Aegon, sat quietly, not speaking much. Many might have thought someone stuffed hay into the dragons’ bellies to prevent them from breathing fire.

Aegon, however, increasingly clenched his hand around the wine goblet from time to time, hearing Y/N happily talking with Jacaerys across the table. His blood boiled hearing her so delighted with the conversation with him. He felt like slapping that fucking son of a bitch.

Helaena was also having a good time, shedding her shyness piece by piece with each sip of wine. She chatted lively with Rhaena and Baela, who were already slightly tipsy themselves. Rhaenys sent an amused look to her husband, who tightened his grip on the wine jug and pulled it closer. The Sea Snake had to be vigilant to prevent his granddaughters and the young Targaryen from getting too drunk. Helaena, however, had more to celebrate than just her half-sister’s birthday.

Since Viserys and Alicent’s daughters reached reproductive age, the Hand of the King and the Queen Mother began looking for potential suitors for them. While there was no trouble finding suitors for Y/N, who, besides her wealth and possessions, had a strong character and good disposition, finding a husband for Helaena was problematic.

From birth, the princess showed signs of abnormal development. Though she grew as a girl should, her mind seemed not to keep up, still trapping her in a world of childish dreams. Helaena was quiet, read a lot, and spent all her time in the garden, not burdened with unnecessary duties.

The Hand decided that when the time came, that is, when Aegon was to take the throne from the ailing king, he would marry Helaena, and Y/N would marry Forrest Frey. The plans were made at a Small Council meeting, which neither Helaena nor Y/N attended. Probably neither would have known about the plans to marry them off if Y/N hadn’t accidentally overheard their conversation when one of the doors unguarded by sentries was ajar.

“I don’t agree!” she said firmly, pushing the heavy doors and entering.

“Y/N, you can’t be here-,” Alicent stood up, wanting to calm her daughter, but she sharply pointed her finger upwards. “And you can’t do this to Helaena! I don’t agree!”

Aegon, who was one of the people at the table, also didn’t support the Council’s idea. However, he was too drunk to make any objections. Only his sister’s intrusion somewhat sobered him up. If he had to choose, he could marry Y/N since she wanted to fight so hard for Helaena’s better fate. Frankly, he didn’t care either way.

The guards first wanted to remove the young princess, but she began presenting her arguments. The Council didn’t think an eighteen-year-old’s arguments could make any sense, but many underestimated Y/N’s negotiation skills. In the castle, by Aegon’s side, she could be more useful than in the Riverlands beside Forrest Frey.

The Council decided that Helaena would marry Frey when the time came, and Y/N would marry Aegon. The young princess didn’t want Helaena to spend her life in the castle, locked in chambers and bearing children. She wanted her to break free from King’s Landing and experience a life different from the one she had lived so far. Y/N knew that unlike her sister, she could handle an incestuous marriage and an unwanted husband, who Aegon was to become in the future. Helaena might have been driven to suicide.

But for now, these were just tomorrow's problems, or who knows, maybe even further. Helaena, in a sudden burst of joy, stood up and climbed onto a chair, much to Alicent’s horror.

“To my beloved sister Y/N,” she said, swaying. Rhaenys held the chair to prevent her from falling. “And to my sister Rhaenyra, who celebrates her birthday today. I love you!”

Alicent, Otto, Aemond, and Aegon looked at her indulgently, raising their goblets. All the other guests eagerly toasted, applauding the young princess’s words. Rhaenyra stood up from the table and hugged her sister; Y/N also rose to do the same.

“Helaena needs rest,” Alicent whispered, gripping her daughter’s shoulder before she stood up. “Escort her to bed.”

Y/N shook off her hand and got up, embracing her sisters. However, when she felt Helaena’s heavy body in her arms, she held her close around the waist.

As soon as the sisters left the dining hall, Jacaerys, sent by his mother, joined them. Young prince apologized to Y/N and with a single, confident motion, picked up Helaena, who laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, admitting that she would let such a handsome man whisk her away without hesitation.

Jacaerys only let go of Helaena when he placed her on the bed in her bedroom.

"Will you stay with her until morning?" he asked as Y/N began removing the rings from her sister's fingers.

"Helaena usually sleeps like a mouse under a haystack, but after wine, she sleeps like a rock," Y/N replied, smiling slightly at the sight of her sister's flushed face. "Wait outside, I'll change her for bed and join you."

The young prince nodded obediently and left the chamber. He stood outside the door, straight as a string, feeling like a guard. Shortly after, the princess joined him, quietly closing the door behind her.

"She'll sleep like a baby until morning," she assured, laughing softly.

"It's nice to see her with a smile on her face," Jacerys admitted as they slowly began walking down the corridor. He quietly offered his arm to Y/N, which she gladly accepted.

"I've noticed she smiles much more when she's here. I feel like the capital is suffocating her."

Jacaerys lowered his gaze. He had recently learned about the marriage plans for the young sisters.

"I heard she'll leave King's Landing sooner or later," he said, glancing at her. He didn't know how delicate ground he was entering.

The young princess sighed and nodded. She spent the whole way telling Jacaerys about everything that had happened in the past weeks. In the company of the boy, Y/N didn't feel like his aunt, as their relationship would suggest, but like a friend. After all, they were only a year apart in age. They had always had a good relationship and, unlike her hostile brothers, Y/N really liked Jacaerys. She cherished every opportunity she could spend with him. This was one of those moments.

The pair didn't return to the feast; instead, they went to one of the terraces. They sat on one of the benches, and Y/N involuntarily rested her head on the boy's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her close.

"You deserve more, Y/N," he said quietly. "Both you and Helaena deserve more."

"I know I'll manage, I'm strong," she said, watching the remnants of the day dance on the horizon. "But I'm so scared for Helaena. She deserves the whole world, not what's waiting for her in King's Landing."

The young princess wasn't sad; at this moment, she could even say she felt a lightness in her heart. Jacaerys' body warmed her pleasantly, and the cool, salty air chased away the heat caused by the wine from her cheeks.

"You're the bravest dragon I've ever known," he said with a smile, looking at her face. The girl smiled at his words. "I don't know stronger people than Targaryen women."

"Do you really think so?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes. She didn't know if his cheeks were flushed from the wine or the cold wind. Nevertheless, his dark eyes looked at her so gently that the young princess never wanted to look into any other eyes again.

Jacaerys smiled and nodded. He cautiously lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He touched her cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.

"I would take better care of you than they would, you know?" he said after a moment, his whisper lost in the whistle of the wind. Y/N heard his words clearly, just as she clearly heard the snort of disdain that came from somewhere to the side.

"I don't know which of you is more pathetic," Aegon said, looking at them with drunken eyes. He could barely stand, but his fists were clenched. Aemond remained silent, standing in the entrance and blocking it with his body. Unlike his brother, he didn't look drunk.

"What is your problem?" Y/N asked angrily, standing up. Unintentionally, she shielded Jacaerys with her body, who also rose from the bench.

"That you act like a complete whore," he spat through his teeth, causing Jacaerys to step around the girl to stand in her defense. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back when Aemond drew a dagger and stepped forward, defending his brother.

"Watch your words," Jacaerys said angrily. He didn't care that he was addressing the future king. In his eyes, Aegon wasn't worth anything, and he certainly didn't deserve to be Y/N's husband.

"Or what, bastard?" Aemond asked calmly, looking at him intently.

"We haven't done anything wrong," the young princess said sharply, though her voice trembled. She knew that her brothers were unlikely to hurt her, but she wasn't capable of protecting Jacaerys from both of them. She had only her hands, feet, and teeth at her disposal. "Get out of the way."

"Oh, really?" Aegon smiled. His drunken eyes were shiny from alcohol and dark-circled, his skin ashen. Even despite the fire of hatred burning in him, he didn't have a bit of a blush on his face. "I see a fucking dog clinging to my future wife."

"You wish she were your wife," Jacaerys said without thinking much about the words that left his mouth. Aegon lunged at him with his fists, to which the young Velaryon responded in kind. Aemond sheathed his dagger and grabbed Jacaerys by the shoulders, holding him and exposing him to Aegon's blows. In the commotion, the young princess managed to draw her brother's dagger and without hesitation, grabbed Aegon by the hair, pulling him back. With tears on her cheeks, she pressed the sword to his neck.

The four of them froze in place.

Aemond still held Jacaerys tightly, blood was trickling from his lip. Aegon's heart was pounding, not from fear but from adrenaline and, at that moment, also from excitement. His sister's small hand was firmly gripping his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back. Blood flowed from his broken nose, running down to his grinning lips.

"She's a dragon, see?" Aegon said, addressing Jacaerys. "You couldn't handle her, fool."

Y/N pushed her brother to the ground, releasing the dagger from her hands as well. She grabbed Jacaerys' hand and pulled him from Aemond's grasp, who would have lied if he said his sister's behavior didn't leave him speechless. In shock, he wasn't even able to oppose her.

"I'm so sorry," she began tearfully, pulling him away as far as possible from that place. "I should have killed them when I had the sword in my hand."

Jacaerys pulled her by the hand, causing her to turn around suddenly and fall into his arms. Without a word, he kissed her, feeling her salty tears mix with the blood from his split lip. Y/N returned the kiss but looked at him in shock. Jacaerys smiled warmly at her.

"Don't apologize to me," he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "You are a dragon, so be a dragon."

The pair didn't return to the feast. Instead, Y/N went with the young prince to his chambers. Jacaerys initially protested when she said she would help dress his wounds. Eventually, he agreed to her proposal, lying on the bed in just his trousers. The girl carefully cleaned his cuts, placing a cold compress on his abdomen. She sat beside him, looking at him tenderly.

"I'm so sorry, Jace," she whispered, squeezing his hand. The boy, however, seemed to be in a good mood.

"If every fight with them means I get to spend time with you, I'm ready to fight them every day."

The young princess smiled and shook her head at his words. She felt her heart swell when she was with him.

Their eager lips exchanged a few more kisses before Y/N quietly left his chamber, returning to her own. Helaena was still sleeping soundly, snoring softly. She lay on her side on her half of the bed, not even stirring when her sister began preparing for sleep. Dressed in a nightgown, she let her hair down and carefully combed it. She put the brush away and blew out the nearby candles, lying down on the bed.

As soon as she covered herself with the quilt, she felt someone sit on her, pressing her into the mattress, and a cold hand covered her mouth. The girl wanted to scream but felt a blade against her neck. The attacker leaned over her, his hair tickling her face. The young princess smelled alcohol.

"Every time you raise your hand against me," Aegon whispered, tightening his grip on the dagger's hilt, "I'll have one of your fingers cut off, understood?"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. For the first time in her life, Aegon truly frightened her. She felt her heart leap into her throat.

"And that fucking Velaryon dog," he moved his hand from her mouth to her hair, gripping it tightly. "I never want to see him near you again."

"Aegon-" she whispered with difficulty, clutching his wrist to push him away. She felt herself running out of breath, and the cold blade pressed deeper into her skin.

"Is that clear?" he growled, pressing her harder into the pillows.

"Yes," she said tearfully.

A moment later, she felt her brother's alcohol-tainted lips forcefully and brutally kissing hers. Aegon stood up shortly after and left the sisters' chamber, closing the door behind him. In the darkness, the young princess found her sister's body and hugged her from behind, trying to suppress her tears. She was terrified.

How much she wished she could hide in Jacaerys's arms at that moment.