#had to celebrate the return of the king real quick

[snacobie]

You dare?

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐋. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him with a raised eyebrow while your lips quirk up into a smile.

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: hazbin hotel | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lucifer morningstar/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 2.57k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, dom reader, dom fem reader, sub lucifer, bottom lucifer, manipulative reader ( i have awoken an obsession in writing them i’m afraid ), reader is longtime friends with alastor, mentions of alastor, reader is ‘the seamstress’ overlord, lucifer crawls across the floor like once? maybe twice, oral ( fem receiving ), begging, brief master kink, whining, some degradation, praise kink, lucifer is 100% being a Good Boy, leg humping, self-inflicted overstimulation, and he WHIMPERS, crying, lucifer’s just a needy lil guy tbh.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: i have fallen into a rabbit hole </3 | 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃!— @mrskreideprinz. @p-ersus. @herohibiscus. @vampcubus.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Breathy whines and whimpers echo through the dimly lit room, the flickering flame of candles catching on the deep red wine in the glass you’re holding with your non-dominant hand. The other is currently being lavished with needy, borderline worshipful kisses, your wrist tightly gripped by the man you’d had wrapped around your pinkie finger for the last five or so years. After being abandoned by his beloved wife and his sweet little daughter, he had been a mess — a mess a long-standing overlord like yourself had been quick to clean up and turn into something else, something more. Playing the concerned friend with ‘hidden feelings’ had been more than easy ( whether or not those falsified feelings had festered into something real was for you to know, and for you to know only ), and you’d had him eating out of your hand faster than even you had expected. After only two years he’d removed Lilith’s ring, and a month after that he’d begged for yours, which of course you’d accepted. You’d helped run the kingdom in his name ever since while he lavished you with attention and tended to his silly little hobbies. Your empire had expanded from a simple series of shops in every Ring that clothed the upper class to a behind-the-scenes Queen of the nation; typically you’d have celebrated with your oldest friend, but he’d disappeared after a tie-up with the Media Demon, and you’d not heard from or of him since. Briefly you’d worried he’d succumbed to his injuries, but then waved them away; little could injure Alastor, and no mobilized television screen would be able to kill him. Once he needed your services as his only tailor again he’d return, and you could demand and receive answers from him then. Until that time, your time was split between all of Hell, the whims of Rosie, and of course the dim-witted desperate King you called your own. 

Alastor would be proud, if not envious, of the web you’d weaved across Pride, if you did say so yourself. 

With one leg you push Lucifer away, planting the ball of one of your feet against his bare chest and making him fall back onto his calves, kneeling before you just as he belonged. He whines at the loss of skin contact when you withdraw your foot, but you ignore him, pondering; honestly he’d been far too easy to shape, so much so that it was almost disappointing at first, but his resolve and desperation to please had been more than entertaining. Every moment he kept by your side made your power grow, and considering the abandonment issues that ran rampant like poison beneath his skin, eating away at his brain and filling him with anxiety, that meant you were never alone for more than a few hours. If you weren’t steadily growing stronger, you’d have questioned if the clinginess were at all worth it. 

“Please — Please, let me… Please…” The soft whimpers from the floor in front of you catch your attention instantly, and you gaze down at the mess of a man before you. His hair — typically so well-managed — hangs messily over his eyes, and his wings flare out behind him, the massive feathered limbs twitching every now and then as he holds himself back from touching you without permission; the kissing had been reward enough for the necklace he’d surprised you with at breakfast, even if he wanted more. To get more, he had to earn it. 

“Do you know any words other than ‘please’?” you ask, amused by the sight of the puddle of an angel before you as well as his vastly shrunken vocabulary. He’s on his knees before you, eyes wanting and voice thick as he begs, and it does nothing but feed the raging warmth in your lower abdomen. In control though you may be, the King of Hell would get what he wanted before the night was through; after all, how could you deny someone who was being such a good boy?

“I know whatever words you want me to say,” he promises in a whine, “What do you want me to say? To ask? I’ll do it, I promise.” You know he will; when has he ever not done what you ask? Never. 

“You’ll be good?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you sip your wine, and he whimpers and nods, hands fisting and unfisting around nothing as he continues fighting the urges to grip at you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. You fight off the urge to laugh; he was just so pathetic, you couldn’t help but feel fond of him. There was just something about sorry men on their knees that did it for you every time, and the King of Hell was no exception.

“S-So good,” he moans shakily, his pupils dilating as you crook a finger in his direction as the smallest invitation. He crawls on all fours closer to you before leaning his head against the warm skin of the inside of your thigh, nuzzling against you before hiding his eyes against it. “I will, I — I…” Fuck, he couldn’t even think — exactly how you liked him. His breathing is picking up, getting heavier than before — he’s getting all worked up, and you haven’t even properly touched him yet. 

You cross your legs tightly, displacing him, and a questioning noise falls from his lips. “Mmm… Ask me for permission,” you purr, and you watch his pupils slowly dilate and his eyes fill with a fresh surge of want. 

“F-Fuck, okay — C-Can I? Please, can I?” he asks, a pleading tone in his voice that has you clenching around nothing. 

“Can you what?” you ask, turning to study your fingernails lazily after taking your last drink of wine, putting the glass on the table next to where you were sitting. He lets out a noise of complaint, demanding your attention be put back on him, and you acquiesce easily; you could certainly give in to one or two of his requests, wordless or otherwise, considering he’d be begging to bury himself in your cunt before the night was out. 

He trembles, barely holding himself back from descending upon you like a starved man would a meal. “Can I touch you? I want to taste you, wanna make you feel good, please—“

You narrow your eyes and fight off the smile making the corners of your lips twitch; you can’t smile yet, it would ruin all the fun. “Who are you asking, Lucifer?” 

“Fuck. Fuck. Master, I’m-!” he whimpers, and you raise an eyebrow in silence, watching as he bites down hard on his bottom lip before asking, “Please, Master, can I lick your pussy?”

Your heartbeat quickens. “Hmmm…” you squint slowly at him, as if pondering the thought for the sole sake of teasing him, and he plants a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee before looking up at you, asking silently for the permission he felt he needed. 

“Please?” he begs again, and you smile finally, watching the way his ruby eyes light up with barely-contained excitement. 

“It’s alright with me,” you purr softly, uncrossing and spreading your legs for him. He lunges forward, curling his forearms under the backs of your thighs and burying his face in your cunt immediately. He’s sloppy as he eats you out, drooling from the taste and excitement, and you sigh happily as you relax into the couch cushions. The man was ever-so-talented with his tongue, you’d discovered years ago, and his favorite hobby was to lie between your legs as often and long as you would let him — and oh, would you let him. All he wanted to do was please you, to ensure your comfort and make sure you never wanted to leave him, and a while your pity for him turned into a soft fondness that urged you to acquiesce to some of his more romanticized fancies, which was why the two of you had had a lovely dinner tonight before you’d led him by his red tie to your shared bedroom. 

“Fuck,” you groan, letting your head fall back at the same time as you close your eyes and bury your free hand in his feather-soft hair, drawing him deeper into your core and coaxing a moan from him at the sensation of his hair being pulled a little. “That’s it, sweet boy — more tongue, just a little more… What a good boy you are…” 

Your hips roll up into his learned tongue at the same time that you catch your own bottom lip between your teeth and grab at one of your breasts lazily, kneading it in time with each swirl of his tongue against you. A shaky string of words into your cunt that you faintly recognize as whiny pleas for you to love him and stay with him forever only stimulate you more, the vibrations making your hips jump up. A small bump against your leg goes ignored the first time, as well as the second, but the third catches your attention and you open your eyes and look down to see him grinding against your leg like a dog. Bullying him crosses your mind, and you are nothing but a slave to your own whims in the bedroom, so you do. 

“What a pathetic fucking man!” you laugh, startling him out of his focus on your cunt and cumming against your leg, and he blinks up at you with wide eyes. He never stops lapping at your cunt, and you scoff meanly. “Humping my leg like some mutt, how unfitting of a king. You’re so desperate to get off that you can’t even wait for the opportunity to use my cunt like a real man — but at least you’re good with your tongue, aren’t you?”

Lucifer whines out a moan into you as he nods an affirmative, and you laugh again, this time more breathily. “You like that, don’t you?” you ask mockingly, tugging at his messy hair just enough for it to sting a little. He whimpers into your core, looking up at you through tear-filled eyes. “The mockery, the harsh words, me being mean — and the praise. Can’t make up your mind on what you want more can you?” A shrill whine is your only response as he nips at your swollen clit, and your hips buck up into his face as you moan, “Mmm, you just want to get cunt-drunk, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh!” he agrees, thrusting hard against you and lapping up every drop of slick you had to offer him. He was talented when it came to slipping back and forth between focusing on smothering your clit with attention and dipping his tongue into your wanting hole, and it took all your inner strength not to lose face and wrap your thighs around his head. 

“Please,” he says, voice slurred with desire, “Please, more — Love more, let me have more, I want more-!”

“More?” you ask mockingly, clenching around nothing as his long tongue circles your clit, and he moans into you desperately enough that the vibrations nearly force a whimper of your own from you lips.  “G-Go ahead and ride my leg,” you say shakily, grinning down at him patronizingly as he immediately starts grinding down on you hard. “And cum whenever you want — after all, you’re just my dumb little pussy-whipped pretty boy~”

He lets out a shrill cry, thrusting against your leg hard as he bites and sucks at your cunt and cums all over your calf, moaning and crying with tears running down his face. Shrill cries fall from your lips as you stop bothering to hold them back; he was already getting sloppy in the ways you liked him best, him hearing you call out for him would only further your shared desire. 

“What do we say?” you ask, keening as he sucks at you greedily, and he lets out a stilted cry of his own. 

“Thank you!” he gasps, continuing to roll his cock against you and hiccuping through tears at the overstimulation he’s forcing upon himself as smaller spurts of cum rush from his cock and coat your skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you..!”

“Good boy,” you murmur, moving your hand from his hair to gently caress his face, and he lets out a shaky sob as he nuzzles into your hand. You lay your head back, content to doze as he comes down from his own particular high while clinging to you. 

“Love you,” he whispers quietly, and you hum softly back at him in response, wordlessly sharing the feeling. “So much. So, so much, more than anyone…” You let him babble mindlessly, knowing how fond he was of doing so, and listen in silence while watching him with a deep fondness sparkling in your eyes. After about a half hour or so he slows his chatter to a stop, beginning to play with your fingers and nibble at his lips, clearly wanting something. 

“What is it, Lucifer?” you ask lazily, petting his head gently, and he lets out wordless whine that makes you raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

He’s quiet for a moment, for some reason unsure of himself, before he finally voices his desire. “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him smugly while your lips quirk up into a smile. 

“More?” you ask mockingly, then scoff and cross your legs, cutting him off from what he desired most, a surprised unintentional chirp falling from his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know if you deserve it…” And so begin the waterworks.

Lucifer bursts into tears, overstimulated and wanting and needy, all while being denied of the only thing he wants. He was a man lost in a vast desert and you were the small spring he stumbled upon after days — after tasting you the first time all those years ago, once in a night was never enough. You’re just being mean to bully him like you always do now, and he knows it. 

Your cum glistens on his lips and chin, and his tongue darts out to lick it up without thinking, sending a surge of heat rushing through your core. “But — But I was good!” he argues shakily through his tears, “Please, I just want — want to make you feel good, ‘nd I wanna feel good too…”

You gaze down at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on it harshly to ground yourself; God, he’s fucking cute. So needy and desperate, his face coated in your cum… 

You smile and spread your legs again, fighting off the urge to laugh at the way his feathers fluff up and he starts trembling in excitement. He’s always been an insatiable little thing, and you should have known better than to start to doze off after he’d achieved just his first orgasm — besides, you can handle him! This was your King after all, and you know him like you know your own mind. What’s a half dozen or more orgasms before the night is out? You could always sleep past noon if you really wanted, and it wasn’t as if he’d be leaving you anytime soon. 

“Then go ahead, Your Majesty,” you purr softly, watching the way his pupils nearly swallow up his irises entirely at the rumble in your voice. “I’m all yours.”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[jacespookiebear]

ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 7

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 2-3 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

It was the big day. Your wedding. Well you could say your weddings. You had decided to keep it quick, you would marry under the seven while you were all still in King’s Landing. The happiest look on your step-mother’s face when you said this, smothering you in kisses before letting you be attended by Lysanna.

“How are you feeling?” Lysanna asked, placing your hair in a pretty hairstyle with braids crowning your head with the silver snood tucked underneath that she placed on your hair, curling all of the hair that was left down with her hands. You took a deep breath in to breath it all out, you were getting married in an hour, you never felt so nervous in your entire life. But it wasn’t official until you got married at Dragonstone. This could be seen as practice, except it was seen as real to your step-mother.

Lysanna helped you of your night gown and started lacing the wedding gown tight around your waist, it looked marvelous. “I am alright. I do hope it’ll be quick.” you answered, playing with your rings once again, twisting them up and down your fingers.

Lysanna let out a “hmph” before talking, “You truly look like a Princess on her wedding day.” The words danced around your mind, the anxiety wasn’t going down anytime soon. “Drink some water, please.”

About to ask if Lysanna needed help with changing once you sipped out of your cup but noticed quickly that she had already finished readying herself. You both walked to the celebration hall instead of the Sept. You let Lysanna enter the hall to join the rest of your family, you were waiting for your father to join you by your side, “my sweet daughter, you look beautiful.” he kissed your cheek as your handmaiden came over to place your House colors cloak around your shoulders, it had your sigil as well. The doors had opened and everyone turned to see who was revealed, you stepped inside to begin walking towards your soon-to-be-husband. Both of your families separated on each side, feeling a tug at your hand, you turned to your father who gave you a smile to which you return with a slight one. Your main focus was on Jace, his attire contained of black and gold, the gold appeared to be more darker than the gold that was on your dress. His jewelry seemed to ones that were once owned by his father, the sapphires and emeralds shining from the light on the windows.

He looked very dashing and seemed like Daemon had to help which made you smile even more. You had arrived walking down the aisle and stood next to Jace, he held no smile or emotion on his face. You understood why, he’s forced into a wedding he had no desire for. He held dislike for the Faith and you knew this. Your guilt was starting to come back.

You kept your eyes on the Septon who spoke for minutes that seemed like hours about the Faith and how you should devote yourself to the Seven. You turned to look over to your family, your sisters were smiling ear to ear and looking genuine. Daeron was also smiling and only nodded towards you once you gazed at him, mouthing to you, “you’ll be okay.” Aemond looked rather emotionless to you as well, you planned on speaking to him before you would have to leave. As for Aegon, he was staring off to space and not caring for the wedding at all, he was absolutely drunk and everyone could tell from the way he was always losing balance until Otto shoved him to act right. Daemon was holding onto Luke and Rhaena to keep them by his side while the Septon was speaking, you swore you saw Rhaena squeezing Daemon’s arm.

It had finally came to taking off your cloak. You gently took off the cloak by yourself, not wanting to worry your father since he already had use most of strength to walk you down and give you away. You folded it slowly, setting it on the ground next to you and Jace.

As well as Jace took off his cloak, with House Velaryon and Targaryen colors and their sigils on the cloak, he draped it over your shoulders. You held the cloak close to you, not wanting to let it go. After placing the cloak on you, he spoke his vows, “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife,” he finished.

You gave him a genuine smile before starting your vows, “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lord and husband.” The Septon now granted you both were married, “You are one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever,” he finished, closing the book. You both connected hands and slowly, you reached to kiss him on the lips. It was more of a peck than a kiss, it was your first kiss— you had no idea what you were doing. Lowering your head in embarrassment, trying to hide your head away from him but it did not help.

Alicent was the first to clap, smiling happily during the whole ceremony. Everyone all followed to clap but not as enthusiastically as your step-mother. You and Jace walked down together, hand-in-hand, not making any effort to speak to one another. You separated ways to head to your chambers to change, you were traveling back to dragonstone for your real wedding that was happening rather very soon. Though, this time it’ll only be you, Jace, and the rest of Rhaenyra’s family that will be attending.

So once you changed into your evening gown, you left the room as Lysanna called out your name, confused on where you’re going. You began to look around the castle for Aemond. To finally talk to him, to finally hug him, to finally-

“Sister?” Aemond called out, suspiciously, you turned to look to your side and found him standing by the corridors. His eyepatch was black, as dark as the midnight sky, his hair was getting more longer and his scar was healing day by day. He was getting older, and you weren’t here to see it. Immediately, you reached over and hugged him tightly. Sighing into the hug, he was rather left confused as you began to mumble.

“I have wanted to hug you ever since I arrived. Why have you been avoiding me, Aemond?” Removing yourself from his warmth, you stared into your brother’s eye, he pursed his lips and stared at his feet instead. Still grasping both of his hands and searching his face for an answer.

“I was afraid that..” he mumbled, afraid to finish his sentence. “that you have hated me after what had happened.” Finally answered, your eyes filling with tears and took him back into your arms. On your tippy toes, placing wet kisses all over his head, you knew he hated being babied by you but he let you do so. “My sweet brother, I could never hate you. You are my young brother and now we both ride the eldest dragons.” Holding his chin between your fingers, he no longer possessed chubby cheeks, his jawline was more defined.

The thought of you both riding Vhagar and Meraxes in glory was a great one, Aemond rubbed his thumbs on your waist as to soothe you both. “Marriage does not suit you, sister.”

You shook your head at his statement, you knew that as well. Your marriage was falling apart already, even your brother could see it. “I know.”

“It’ll get easier,” he muttered, “I shall be here for you.”

“Thank you.” you calmly said. Exchanging final goodbyes, you hugged him one last time. Your luggages were already packed since last night and they were out in the carriage. You bid farewell to your other family members, especially Helaena who had just received news from the maester that she was pregnant, you felt so distraught and disgusted that you can’t be here to help her. She was younger than you and was already having children. Promising her that she could arrive on dragonback to dragonstone anytime if she needed you or Rhaenyra.

“I’m so glad I got to see you sister,” Helaena whispered, the sadness was wretching your heart, at that moment you wished you could ask Rhaenyra if you could stay in King’s Landing just for a few months but you knew that was less likely to happen.

Giving her cheek a long and deep kiss before parting, “My sweet, you will see me again.” You felt like you were reassuring yourself more than to Helaena.

The ride back to dragonstone was a long and silent one. Rhaenyra and Daemon stayed inside the boat while you watched over Luke, Rhaena, and Liz who were playing with the wooden figures that belonged to Luke. All of your dragons flying above your boat, screeching to each other. You were nearly five feet away from Jace, sitting by the chairs that were next to the crashing waves, neither of you speaking. The silence was killing you, he was making no effort to talk to you but you could say the same for yourself.

You were wishing you were riding on Meraxes right now, you barely had any time now with her and you knew she missed you deeply. The ever so elegant dragon would always wail outside of dragonstone for your attention, poor girl, she was getting old and your time with her was ticking. But, she wasn’t alone. She was spending most days with Vermax, who would always try to play with her, her patience always ran out quick with the smaller dragon but would usually let him lay with her after he hunts dinner around the island for her.

Finally for what felt like hours, you all arrived on dragonstone. Letting Rhaenyra and Daemon step out of the boat first, you came out second while helping the younger kids. Turning to look over at the rocks, the preparations for your wedding were being made and they were quick with it. You were feeling rushed to change, you wanted to take it all slowly, this was your actual wedding and yet you weren’t as excited as you hoped to be.

Being rushed into a bath once you entered your chambers, your handmaidens were scrubbing you down harshly, making you moan and wince in pain as they mutter their apologies for being quick and rough. Their hands were forcing you into many positions to scrub other parts of your body, Lysanna was by your side, washing your hair with much more of a gentle touch and rinsing off the suds with colder water.

“Careful! Her skin is tender now!” Lysanna scolded the handmaidens, who were smearing your now smooth skin from the endless scrubbing with rose oil. They were all treating you like a child taking a bath for the first time, you were overwhelmed by how much a hurry they seemed to be. It felt like your wedding was already happening while you were still naked.

You mindlessly stared outside the huge window, silencing biting your lip from how cold their hands felt on your skin, they were making sure you smelled lovely like usual— lathering you in so much scented oils, you felt yourself almost become lightheaded from the varieties of smells. Though, you appreciated the massaging your young handmaiden was doing on your shoulders.

But you couldn’t stop the chills that wouldn’t leave your body, shivering with your teeth clattering. Lysanna wrapped yourself in your robe to pat the wetness down. “You all may leave now. I’ll handle her wedding robes.” Lysanna ordered, the handmaidens bowed and left your chambers for you to finish being attended to.

“Aw, Y/n! They’re lovely.” In her hands were the robes you would wear to your wedding. Not paying attention like Liz was, still looking out the window until she forced your attention back. Blinking your eyes to see clearly, you were struck with awe, the seamstress seemed to add more details to them. They were still the dark blue and black color you had tried on. The ends were blue but as they traveled up it became darker then black at the upper body area, The end of the robes, the arms, and the top of the first layer, were covered in the dark blue color but had Meraxes and Vermax sewed in.

“She added the dragons..” you breathlessly sighed, holding the robes in your hands.

Lysanna nodded without speaking another word, turning to untie your bath robes and left it laying on the ground. Making sure your body was dry enough, she wrapped the upper robes around you, tying the fabric to tighten your waist, adding the last layer over your stomach and shoulders, letting the black belt wrapped around the ends of the first layer to blend in. Finally, she had adjusted the lower bottoms of the robes to reach your feet, just in case you weren’t able to walk freely in it.

“You look like an Old Goddess,” she breathed, you were almost convinced to believe her once you saw yourself in the mirror, but you realized the headpiece was missing.

Turning around to look around for it but Lysanna caught on and stopped you, adding the silvery headpiece on top of your head. She decided to leave your hair unstyled, your natural curls were already making you look so beautiful.

Again you looked in the mirror, you looked ethereal. The headpiece was adding everything together. And Lysanna couldn’t agree more, standing by your side with her hands clasped together, she looked happy for you. You both were interrupted by the at knock at your door, revealing your sister. She was struck from your beauty, her face could show it.

Rhaenyra walked to you and Lysanna, kissing your cheeks softly, “Oh, my sweet sister. You look so magnificent.” Her eyes were becoming watery, “You look perfect,” she insisted, smoothing her palms on your cheeks, “Jacaerys will fall to his knees once he sees you.”

You choked on what to say. Instead, pulling her into a hug, gently to not hurt the baby. She chuckled, “I love you, sister.”

“And I love you too, sister.” you answered her, you were afraid of what she will say once she found out you and Jace were in a rocky relationship right now. But you didn’t want to think about that right now. Your mind was mainly focus on the wedding that was about to happen.

“It is time,” she said quietly, eyes meeting yours. She left your embrace to exchange some words with Lysanna, they both smiled warmly to each other until she left a kiss on Lysanna’s forehead.

Taking huge breaths of air, Lysanna and your sister walked you to the rocks by the shore, you heard waves crashing as you walked closer and closer to the rocks. Jace was already there with Luke, Rhaena, and Daemon present, Daemon helping him with his robes before walking over to help Rhaenyra go down the steps carefully.

You met Jacaerys in the middle of the ceremony, the same place that took place for Rhaenyra and Daemon’s wedding as well, the Septon was standing there with a dagger and chalices on the rock table for you both. The anxiety of having to cut each other’s arms and lips came to you, you began pinching your arm to ease your nerves. Jace noticed this and rubbed your arm to comfort you.

You turned to look at him, his eyes fell onto you. You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he was possibly warming up to you, just a little. As you all listened to the words of the Septon, you mindlessly dozed off again until he handed Jace the dagger, you were rather scared. Scared to be cut and with full warning and intent as well, he tried calming you once more by pinching your lips to make the cut so you wouldn’t feel it as much. The cut was small but deep enough for blood to draw. You appreciated the fact he did this to help you, you felt tears swelling in your eyes as you made eye contact with him, nodding to him that you were fine— he looked stoic but you knew he was nervous, afraid those were tears of pain. He then brought his remaining hand to place his thumb to your lips, collecting the blood and tracing the liquid on your forehead. His eyes were watching for any sign of discomfort from you but you only nodded again and smiling to reassure him once him.

Once he had finished, he handed you the dagger, and you repeated what he had just did. If he was nervous, you were 10x nervous, shaking as you made the cut on his lip, you made sure it was a light scratch but still, worried as you cupped his face to apologize. As if he was still a child who was hurt during training but your imagination disappeared once he placed his hand on your hand— to let you know he’s fine. You ran your thumb over his lips, smearing the blood to make sure you grabbed enough. You drew a symbol on his forehead, once you finished, you sighed with relief that it was over. You felt good, the hard part was over.

The Septon then handed your lover the chalice. You took the dagger and began cutting at your left palm, wincing in pain from the deep cut you had made. You were never good with pain, realizing you had a low tolerance to pain compared to your family, always have been. With the pain lingering as you squeezed your hand over the chalice, you wanted to wince in pain, letting your blood drip into to the cup. Jace repeated what you did after handing your other hand the chalice for you to hold, he held no reaction once he cut into his right palm unlike you, you were almost envious that he didn’t feel no pain. You could hear Luke, in the background, hissing from the amount of blood that was being shed. You put the cup under his hand as he squeezed, your blood mixing with his in the chalice.

Began to drink from the chalice after speaking repeated vows from the Septon. The taste was bitter and very much like iron, you were not disgusted by it, it was rather natural considering you have the blood of the dragon. Dragons drink blood, afterall. Finishing your sip, you gave it to your lover. Though, you were rather okay with the taste, Jace wasn’t. His face screwed with bitterness and slightly squinted from the horrible taste, you wanted to giggle at his reaction but remained composed.

With blood coating his lips and tongue, he then brought his hand to cup your cheek once more before leaning in to kiss you. More confident than the last time, you leaned in as well. Your lips connecting and this time, you dipped your head back to kiss him once more, pressing your bloodied lips onto his soft ones— cupping both of his cheeks with your hands, staining his right cheek with blood from your cut.

Jace was rather confused from your sudden kiss, part of him wanted discontinue it for that he was still upset with you but this was something he had longed for years. The feeling of your lips was becoming addicting to him, his eyes immediately closing and savoring the taste of your lips. Forgetting that your family was behind you, he pulled you closer to him, his arms around your waist so protectively, he was scared to let you go. You both finally parted to breathe, panting heavily as you looked back into his now opened eyes, your lips were swollen from the long kiss and immediately created distance from him, afraid you crossed the line of boundaries.

As you were about to apologize, you heard claps being made by Rhaena and Luke. Realizing they were all there and watched the passionate kiss, you panicked and became even more embarrassed. You couldn’t really the say the same for Jace, instead of embarrassment— you swore you saw lust in his eyes, like he was about to kiss you again.

“Let’s wash your face and have you ready for supper!” Lysanna interrupted your intimate thoughts, as you wiped the smear blood on your looks, you were being scurried back into the castle while your eyes were trained on Jace, you neither spoken a word to him throughout the weddings or the trip back but you were able to speak so much through your actions.

Lysanna brought you to a whole other chamber, it was rather bigger and you were surprised. The bed was more bigger, seems to be the same size as Rhaenyra and Daemon’s— you knew it was your now shared chambers with Jace. It appears your handmaidens had already brought some of your collected art pieces and artifacts into the chambers to hung them up during your wedding. She brought out a wet cloth and started wiping your face very carefully in order to not hurt your wound.

“Was I okay?” you suddenly asked, blurting the question out without any context. You meant how you looked during your wedding.

Lysanna gave you a confused look to which you gave a pleading one in return. She unwrapped your robes and gently pressed her fingers on your palm, the one with the wound. Applying a bandage to wrap around your hand. “I am lost by what you mean.” Turning around to find an appropriate gown for you to wear.

Sighing, “I mean, did I present myself..” trying to find the perfect way to describe your question, “did I do alright?”

“Well, you certainly looked like you were in love,” She spoke, looking through your closet, still deciding for you to wear. Lysanna then let out a contented gasp, pulling out a white and golden gown that had sheer patterned sleeves and sheer designs on the skirt with the same patterns. “Were you faking it?”

Inserting your arms into the sleeves, you fiddled with the skirt while she laced the strings behind the gown. You were remembering what was happening in the wedding, leaving yourself feeling slightly panic and flustering from the sudden and passionate kiss you shared with Jace. His lusting eyes that were laying upon you wasn’t helping your case, it left you wanting to finish what you had started.

“No. I wasn’t.” shaking your head, looking at yourself in the mirror while she help put your half of your hair into double braids before connecting them across the back of your head and leaving the rest of your hair alone.

Lysanna smiled and nodded her head, leaning away to take a good look at you. “Good. It looked real.” Giving her a genuine smile from her response, it held no lie to it. She went over to your vanity and gave you jewelry to pick and wear. After you had finish adding earrings and a necklace, she held your hand to ease your nerves and lead you to the dining hall. She walked with reassurance and confidence, you were envious from the way she was able to look so proud but yet again she wasn’t the one who had just got married. She had no reason to be nervous or scared like you.

You entered the dining hall, lifting your skirt to step down carefully. Your family was already there, eating and conversing with one another. Rhaenyra looked up from her seat in the middle end of the table, gave you a smile. You sat by her side, Lysanna joining you all by sitting next to Rhaena and Luke, they begun laughing at silly jokes that Rhaena babbled.

“The ceremony was absolutely beautiful,” Rhaenyra praised, as Daemon handed you a cup of wine. You were hesitant to take it but still took a small sip. “It is good to be back in Dragonstone.” Quickly nodding at her statement, you felt more at home here. But yet, you missed your siblings dearly, remembering what you had saw with Helaena and Aemond.

“Your trip to Winterfell is on the morrow, is it?” Daemon asked, seemed to genuinely be interested to know more. He shown more fascination and interest in you and your life, it was a kind gesture and made you see him in a different light.

You were excited, none the less. You were finally visiting the north, you longed for this opportunity. Ever since Lysanna spoken stories of the cold land, you had wanted to see it for yourself. To feel snow, to make snow angels, to find direwolves, you were truly about to explode with excitement. “Yes! But I still have many things to pack. Lysanna, as well.”

“It’s alright. I had it all packed for you.” Jace suddenly spoke up, still eating his dinner as he paid no mind to you. You looked over to his side, appreciated at the fact he went out of his way to do that for you.

Warmly smiling to yourself, the fear of him hating you washed away. He cared for you, no matter what. “Thank you.”

“You looked like a goddess, cousin! I hope to look as beautiful as you in my own wedding.” Rhaena happily chirped, her eyes filled of hope while Daemon gave her a non-threatening stare from how she already declared wanting to be married.

You laughed at how eager she sounded, “That’ll be a long time, I assure you.” Daemon announced, Rhaenyra sighed from his response as Rhaena frowned. But you knew he meant well, he just doesn’t want to see her grow up so fast.

Finally finished your meal, you got up from your seat and walked towards Rhaena and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead before giving her and Luke a bear hug. “My sweetlings, so sweet to me. Be good to your parents.” they both were so young and already speaking of such topics. You just wanted to pocket them in your coat and take them everywhere with you. “May I visit Meraxes?” you asked Rhaenyra, whipping her head around as she gave you a quick nod, laughing with Daemon. The night was still young and you took the advantage to find your old dragon.

Placing one last kiss on Rhaena and Luke, you whispered to Lysanna to take them to bed soon. Leaving the hall to grab your cloak, you begun to walk out the castle with such hurry, looking across the island and ran in such pace to seek warmth and comfort from Meraxes. Upon your arrival, she turned her head to greet you, mewling loudly to declare how much she missed you, you knew your family had heard her. Holding onto her so tightly, hugging her by the side of her large head, she affectionately leaned in your touch. Compared her size to you, she barely leaned in just to not hurt you.

“Shijetra nyke, Merakses. Ēdan issare tolī nūmāzma naejot ao.” (“Forgive me, Meraxes. I have been to cruel to you.”) She seemed to understand you so easily from the way she wailed, huffing and puffing as you scratched underneath her mouth. The least you could do for her is let her rest for the remainder of her days, her entire life— all she ever knew was war and evil schemes that she was forced to be played in. You never thought about using her like that, she was too old for that now.

Perhaps that is why Meraxes picked you, maybe it wasn’t only because you had reminded her of the Queen Rhaenys, the way you would be silly around her, danced and played in the empty fields with her when you were younger reminded her of the old days with Rhaenys. Reading Aegon’s Conquest to Meraxes in High Valyrian so she would understand, she felt like she was in paradise and wanted to stay by your side until it was her time to rest for eternity. Never having to be at war again, having the opportunity to fly freely with you, relaxing in the deep lake with you was pure bliss.

If Meraxes could speak to you, she would thank you for rescuing her. For having the opportunity to live a peaceful life, living in where she was born, with other companions such as Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax and Arrax.

You placed your coat underneath you, instead of riding with her, you decided to rest with Meraxes instead. It would not be wise to sleep out here, you would worry your family but if you spent more time away from your dragon, you would’ve gone mad. “Hemtubis īlon kipagon syt Ropatasōnar. Ao se kesan ūndegon sōna syt se ēlī jēda.” (Tomorrow, you and I ride for Winterfell.) your words slowly becoming a whisper, dozing off to slumber— but your dragon’s low huff almost woke you up. Closing your eyes, your head resting near her clean, silver scales. Her large wing protectively resting above you, not strictly above to not suffocate you.

While you peacefully slept without a worry right by Meraxes’ side, your husband wasn’t so peaceful. He sat by the edge of your shared bed in your new shared chambers, wondering where you were. You weren’t in your old chambers either, the last time he heard you were with Meraxes. Getting up from his spot on the bed, wrapping his bare torso and arms with a night robe to look for you outside, letting the knights know he will be searching for you. Jacaerys was rushing down the steep hill, the rocks, and sand to find you— almost stepping in holes from time and time. He easily found Meraxes, she was the largest dragon afterall, she was easy to spot.

Jace wanted to feel angry, you never alerted anyone about how long you would take. He’s off looking for you around the island as always, but he couldn’t help the growing nervousness in his chest for your safety, worried you could be injured. No matter how much anger Jace holds over you, you still have him wrapped around your finger so tightly that no matter what you do, he would always find his way back to you. And the worst part is, you were unaware of this fact.

Once he reached Meraxes, she quietly mewled towards him, Jace patted Meraxes— she was sleeping so peacefully while you were laying right next to her, shivering in your sleep, arms curling tightly by your chest for some warmth, your cloak nor Meraxes could save you from the cold winds. You looked so peaceful and beautiful until he looked clearer. Your face was not only dried with tears, your teeth clattering together and your brows furrowed .

Without a thought, he quickly unwrapped his robes and wrapped it over you. For a brief moment, you were no longer shivering and began leaning into Jace’s warm embrace, he was known for being a literal walking furnace. He was wearing nothing now besides his breeches while you were layered comfortably but yet held around Jace’s arms, he couldn’t help but feel butterflies roaming inside his stomach from your touch. He decided to breathe into your palms from how cold they unusually are.

From the much movements around you and the sudden warmth, you began to wake up. Rubbing your eyes and mouth slurring, your eyes slowly widen from the view of Jace holding onto you protectively. At that sight of your husband, you were shocked to see him.

“What are you doing here?” you slurred your words, unintentionally, wiping the dried tears from your cheeks.

Jace tried to keep his eyes from looking back at you, “I was worried about my wife.” he stated simply. You grew quiet from his words.

You mumbled, “Oh..I apologize for worrying you, I must have woken you from your slumber,” your voice shaky. You were afraid you had made him mad even more but he shook his head.

He rubbing your forearms with a gentle touch. “I stayed up waiting for your return to our chambers. I had wondered if you went back to your old chambers.”

You looked at him for a moment, before more tears ran down your face, from the thought that he thinks you didn’t want to be with him, share chambers and share a bed hurt you. “Why would I abandon you,” you whispered, you were not asking, you knew the answer. He looked at you with guilt on his face, probably for even assuming you wouldn’t want to be near him during the night.

“It was foolish of you to be out here so late in the night.” he scolded, “you could have become sick just by staying out here for a bit.”

“I’m so sorry, Jacaerys,” you apologized, though, you weren’t apologizing about staying out here. He knew why you were apologizing, it felt all too real for the both of you. You were finally gonna speak your truth, speak your feelings. “I already failed you as a wife. Your future Queen. You hate me so much and it is my fault.” You had let out a sob, one that was a cry for help. All he could do was just listen to you belittle yourself as you continued to explain. “We were once close, do you remember? You always had your nightmares and crawled in my bed, excusing yourself as only wanting to protect me during the night.” Jace chuckled at the remembrance of the memories you both shared together. Remembering it like it was last night. “To see you hurt over something I had caused broke me deeply..of course I love you, I love you so much it hurts my heart to see you slip away from me. I don’t like to see you with another lady, and I don’t like to think about how you could have been betrothed to someone else who isn’t me. Your love and devotion for me is all I can ask for. But..please, you must understand why I was scared to marry, my mother was forced to squeeze out children until she died. Knowing that will be me someday, frightens me, worries me that I may not give you an heir.”

As you finished, Jacaerys laid there— with so many thoughts running through his mind. You love him, and yet he never thought about how it was like for you, his sadness breaks you down to the point you’re a wreck because you love him. He noticed, he noticed how much quieter you become during and after the betrothal, and how you barely even made the effort to wish farewells to your family as you went on the boat.

Realizing now, imagining you dying in childbirth frightened Jacaerys so much to the point his hold on you tightened. To lose you, especially to childbed, it put the poor boy in shock.

Jace pulled you closer to him, both of you becoming sweating from how hot under the robes and cloak were, “You’re not my nephew anymore, you are my husband. And I need to start seeing you as my husband.” Suddenly he looked down from the touches you placed on his left hand, he watched you took off the ring your father, his grandsire had left to you. The ring he had worn as a wedding ring with his wife, your mother— the rings that represented their love for one another. You placed the ring delicately onto his ring finger, twisting it around occasionally. It now belonged to him.

“I love you, Jacaerys,” you sobbed, rushing to press your hands on his bare chest. You were an emotional wreck. But yet, he didn’t know what to say. “Please speak to me.” Gods, your voice was breaking his heart. Why can’t he speak? He loves you so much. He would do anything for you. He would go as far as to kill for you.

Placing his forehead against yours, finally gaining the courage to speak, “You and I were meant to burn together.”

Without hesitation, he roughly grabbed you by your silvery hair and placed a rough kiss onto your lips, you quickly returned the kiss with such eagerness. The kiss almost knocked the winds out of you, you weren’t expecting Jace to be so rough but you didn’t care. Pulling away to catch your breath for a quick moment before reaching once again to his lips, your tears continued to fall from your eyes, mixing into your lips— making the kiss become wet.

His hands falling to grip your waist, laying on top of you as he moved once again behind to unlace your gown, in such swiftness, your gown was slowly coming off and you immediately shivered from the strong winds. Jace broke the kiss to set your dress aside but once he placed it next to you both, his eyes laid upon your bare body— you had changed tremendously over the years, you were now a lady and Jace could see that quite clearly from the way your breasts were much more fuller and the sides of your body were now curvier.

From his wandering eyes, you were becoming embarrassed. Was he disgusted by you? Were his expectations ruined? You felt like curling up into a ball and hide away.

Reaching to cover yourself with your arm, feeling even more embarrassed that you had to hide your breasts away. Before you could even react, his hands placed your arms above your head, Jace’s lips came down onto yours again, this time more sweeter than the first one. You brought your hands down to bury them in his hair, as you moved your lips against his.

His tongue swiped across your lips, wanting to deepen the kiss. You opened your mouth with slight hesitation, but it soon disappeared and replaced with lust— moaning at the newfound feeling of his tongue. Jacaerys moved away to place sweet kisses all over your neck, pulling you into him more harshly, hips smashing into each other. Without your gown on, you could feel everything, his body heat, and every part of his body. You were whimpering in seconds from how he began to place lovebites on your shoulder and collarbone.

His hands moved up your body, going up and down on your hips before resting his palms on your breasts, gently massaging the soft, ample mounds. When he lightly pinched the sensitive buds, you let out a moan, pulling on his hair as he continued to graze your nipples. Jace groaned, taking it as permission, he dipped his head into your chest before he began to suck harshly, even began nipping your buds to earn more sounds from you. To think this was his first experience with you, you would have thought he was skilled at this. But no, neither of you had touched someone like this before, and it felt good. The relief washing over you when you would be losing your virtue to Jacaerys and not someone like Aegon or an old High Lord who wouldn’t even thought once about your pleasures and desires.

Both his hands continued to pinch at your skin, while you started whimpering. Traveling up to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. You were withering away into ecstasy as he continued. His hands drifted from your chest, down your waist, slowly as you could feel his hands on your thighs, he retrieved away from your neck, admiring the work he done with the lovebites scattering all over your neck, collarbone, shoulders, and your breasts.

“Jace…” you whined. Clearly frowning from the loss of heat that his body provided for you while he was exploring your body.

The way you were already missing his touch was starting to get Jace feeling worked up, your pity eyes and your pouty lips was just the icing on top of the cake. He wanted to have his way with you right then and there, pleasuring the both of you so eagerly but he knew he would have to be patient. Your pleasure absolutely comes first. Though, he was glad you both were far away from the castle, your family wouldn’t have to hear you both.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked, confused but still remained to lay on your cloak. Shifting uncomfortably, wondering if it was over already, if it was only just in the heat of the moment. Your thoughts were cut short when Jacaerys spread your thighs apart, groaning at the sight that was laid in front of him and the feeling of the fat of your thighs in his hands. Letting out a shocked gasp from the cool air blowing into your cunt.

Jace looked up to you, not exchanging any words but the look on his face was asking for your permission to continue. You nodded, allowing him to dive his head between your legs. He gave your cunt a wet kiss before bringing his fingers to slip through your folds, groaning at how wet you are, you subconsciously brought your hand to grip the wrist to his wandering hand, that was smearing your wetness all over your cunt.

He gave you a light smile from how easily wet you were. Wanting to tease you some more, “All for me, my love?” you were feeling rather more embarrassed than you ever were with Jace. You couldn’t muster anything to say back, as an result Jace lightly smacked your cunt— loudly yelping at the impact, it frightened Meraxes who was still besides you both. You had started realizing where you both were, right by the ocean and way too close to your dragon, who seemed to be very annoyed by the loud and erotic noises you both were making.

“C-Could we take our affairs into our- ah! Jacaerys!” you cried out, as you were trying to suggest going back inside, he continued to spread your lips with his tongue, lapping your juices from your dripping hole. He began moving his tongue in and out of you with his fingers patiently moving towards your clit to rub it slowly before it started to fasten. You propped yourself onto your side, wanting more.

The lewd squelching noises had only made you feel warmer and turned on. You gave out and fell on your back once more, babbling with soft whimpers— you could not control your voice, expressing how much it feels good. With his tongue still inside you, it made your skin burn, had your toes curling on his back as your thighs wrapped around his head, your hands gently yanked at his hair to pull him away from your cunt, it was beginning to become too much for you, sending vibrations through your body. “J-Jace..too much..”

While trying to escape his grasp, his hands removed themselves from your nub and moved to your sides— holding your hips down, allowing him to gain control again, rather than letting you move away from his face. Whimpering from the tight hold Jace has on your hips, he decided to pull you more closer to him, deepening his tongue inside your cunt. With his fingers again, he rubbed tight circles on your clit, it brought you a different kind of pleasure, the feeling of your stomach turning, like something snapped.

He hummed against your cunt, acknowledging that you were close, deciding to replace his mouth and to slowly add two fingers inside. Thrusting them in and out of you, careful not to hurt you but that thought quickly disappeared after he heard you babble the loudest moans you ever let out tonight, “Please..don’t stop, ñuha vēzos.” you whimpered out. To hear that nickname come out of your mouth after so long made his cock hard, fastening his pace before adding another then another. The cold feeling of the ring that was still placed on his finger, thrusting inside you had you falling apart. It was a newfound feeling that you seemed to already become addicted to, adding more to your pleasuring.

With his face pulled away from you, lips dripping with your juices, but his fingers never stopped, the pleasure continuing, “It’s alright. Let go, ñuha hūra qēlossās,” he urged, as he dove back to kiss you messily, aggressive like the first kiss you had shared with him, driving his tongue into your mouth, he happily swallowed your moans and whimpers that you were letting out, his thumb ferociously rubbed your clit to help you cum quicker, it felt so good.

You listened to his words. You tried to let go, allowing yourself to relax and enjoy the pleasure he was giving you. It was soon that you felt that same feeling that was building in your stomach, it felt like a tight knot snapping. You pulled harder at Jace’s hair, in silence, pulling your mouth was away from his, a thin string of saliva connecting. You saw white stars in your vision, desperately trying to come down from your high. Your vision and hearing were lacking, giving Jace a small huff when he tried to call your name, you could barely hear him.

He pulled his fingers out of you, your hole was left clenching nothing as it leaked out all of your juices. Slowly regaining your vision, you gave Jace a hazy smile, and reached up to pull him closer to you. Letting out a mewl at the way he cupped your breasts, firmly, smothering them in sweet kisses.

With his hands on your breasts, you wrapped your legs around him again, finding familiar pleasure in the friction of rubbing yourself against him through his breeches. Jace let out a relaxed sigh from the endless grinding. He looked up to see you, you were too deep in pleasure to notice him pulling himself away, and lowering his breeches. His cock sprung up, he re-adjusted himself on top of you. He was rather bigger than you imagined. Deep in your thoughts, you didn’t notice how he moved his tip down your slit to collect your wetness, mixing it with his pre-cum to make his cock even more wet.

You tried to fix yourself as you can while still drowsy from your previous orgasm, bringing your hand to hold him, carefully. Your hand was gentle, not wanting to squeeze him hard— you wrapped it around his length, and his eyes were closed as he hissed at your touch, his stomach was tensing up.

“Gods,” he strangled, you looked up to him and his face contorted in pleasure. You moved your hand and replaced it with your tongue, placing his whole length in your mouth, you began to gag on his cock but you wanted to bring some pleasure to him, like the good wife you are. Continuing to move your head slowly, you were getting the hang of sucking him off. The surprising act had Jace shocked, to see you trying to please him so eagerly.

The thought of just letting you suck him off until he released in your mouth made him feel excited, but that wasn’t what he planned. As much as he didn’t want to, he gently pull your mouth off him. He wanted to be inside you. Retrieving yourself away, frowning as you wiped your mouth, to your disappointment, Jace gave you a smile and placed a wet kiss on your neck, “Forgive me, my love but I want to feel your cunt.” you clenched at his words, nodding and allowing him to tuck your curls behind your ear, guiding you to lay back down on your cloak.

He wrapped his own hand around his cock, now wet enough to line himself at your entrance. Placing your arms around your husband’s shoulders, making him come closer to you in the hopes of having some sort of reassurance, as you laid craving his cock. Jace slowly pushed himself inside you, working his cock into your cunt. The stretch was rather more bigger than with his fingers, whining as your nails dig into his back— your legs wrapped around his hips, tightly. The feeling was uncomfortable, you couldn’t breathe properly nor move. He continued sliding inside you, settling himself comfortably until he had your approval to start moving again.

Jace leaned into your neck, breathing in your scent and groaning at the feeling of finally being inside you. How he waited for years to wed you. He stayed quite snugged in you, eventually, bringing his head up to meet your eyes. He could see the hold of discomfort in them, to relief the mild aching—he brought his fingers down to your clit again, rubbing circles, recklessly, in hopes to help you find pleasure. As his fingers remained on your nub, your body had began to relax and erupt in pleasure once more. You closed your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth to bring more. You moaned at the feeling of Jace bringing himself in and out of you. Slowly thrusting back into you, never taking his hand away from your clit, instead he started to rub your nub even faster, making you feel more heat.

As he continued to slide in and out of you at a cautious pace, you were begging for more. Babbling at your husband to go faster, he complied without a word. Bringing your legs over his shoulders, you both could hear your skin clapping together. His pace was rather brutal and hard, but oh gods, it felt so good. Your head fell back, mouth left open as Jace continued his harsh thrusts. Blood dripping from his back, the feeling of your nails digging deeper into his skin almost made Jace collapse from how good it felt. Wanting to quiet his groans, he began to nip at your neck, you were clenching tightly around him, “Don’t stop! Please! Please! Ah!”

His pace quickening as you bounced against him, lost in the pleasure. Your mouth laid open, your moans beginning to become too loud. Jace swore the knights that were on nightwatch could have heard you. Removing his fingers from your clit, Jace stuck his fingers in your mouth to hush you, immediately you began to suck on them so desperately as your eyes rolled back so far.

The tight knot in your stomach came back, falling over from the feeling again. Crying out for Jace with his fingers still in your mouth once his thrusts slowed down. You took his fingers out of your mouth, afraid you would bite them by accident. Not sure on where to place them, he decided to wrap his hand around your neck and began to squeeze. The feeling was unfamiliar but it felt amazing, you felt yourself liking the newfound feeling as you were beginning to feel dizzy during your high, about to pass out from the way he was constricting your breath as he continued fucking you.

Your high ending, becoming very sensitive to the continuing movement inside you. “Please..inside me..” you choked, wanting to feel his cum inside you. You felt his thrusts stuttering, more messier. Jace wanted to pull out, spill himself on your breasts but hearing your words, he complied. Without saying anything back, he thrusted one last time, deeper this time. Spilling his cum inside, not wasting a drop while thrusting all of it inside your leaking cunt. You both moaned in unison at the feeling, taking his hand off your now bruised neck, replacing it with his face to rest on your neck, kissing it gently as he continued to spill inside you. Oh, it felt so good, the feeling of his warmth filling you. With strong arms around you, carefully Jace pulled out of you, both of you hissing at the loss feeling and you whined, clenching around nothing, wanting him to stay inside you forever.

Jacaerys pulled away, finding his breeches and bringing it to your thighs to clean you up right away. Wiping away the cum and saliva that was dripping down your stomach and thighs. You looked up at him confused, and upset he was using his only clothing. “My love, what will you wear now?” Rushing to stop his actions with your hand, Jace shook his head and only continued until you were clean. Slightly wincing from the sensitivity down there.

“Let me attend to you.” he ordered, he was not asking. Without wanting to start a disagreement, you nodded. He had you turned to the side to wipe away any sand that sticked to your body and placed you gently back down on your cloak. “I’m sorry, I was too harsh with you.”

You melted further into the cloak, eyes growing tired, his sweet words made you shake your head and only smile sweetly. “It is fine. I don’t mind, it was me who was too harsh with you, my love.” Bringing his hand to cup your cheek, he felt himself growing guilty from your words. He didn’t want your first time to be something that you felt you had to be punished for. He would never be that cruel to you, he wasn’t someone like Aegon. He was your devoted husband, who would go to great lengths to protect you. The sweat across your body and face, the tired look on your face, the bruises and marks on your body. This was not what Jacaerys wanted for you, but you were just happy to finally have his forgiveness, you tried to reassure him that you wanted it just as much as he wanted it. Happily humming once he placed his robes around you, slipping underneath the robes, taking you in his arms once again. You laid your head on his bare chest, finding warmth and comfort.

He was smoothing your hair out, tangling his fingers. Your braids had became messy and unkept but it didn’t matter to Jace. “My sweet wife..” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead. The guilt never went away, not once, remaining in his mind as he tried to sleep. “I am fine, my love.” you urged, trying to make sure he knows you are well while you were still awake. He gave you a sweet smile, to help you believe he is not worried anymore. As he began to hear the soft snores coming from you, all Jace could think about how unfair he was to you. He let his anger get the best of him, remaining bitter and sour to you when you tried to apologize once. As you tried to win his affections back, letting you wither in sadness. You were never cruel to him.

It was never that big of a deal, he thought. for you to feel the need to always be there for your step-mother. Of course it wasn’t, you were just trying to make everyone happy. Was he only mad because he was just envious? Envious that he and his family weren’t the only ones you held such strong familiar feelings for? No matter what the outcome was, whether your family bullied his mother, or accused them of being bastards, or even taking your freedom from almost everything that you felt you had to leave— you would always be tied to Alicent and your other siblings because of your connection to them.

All his life, Jacaerys tried to catch all of your attention. Wanting to be the one who caught your eye, never finding it fair that you mainly laid your eyes on your other family. Always comforting Aemond, reading with Helaena, chasing Aegon around incase he made a fool of himself, or when you were busy with writing letters back to Daeron.

Jace thought once you were married to him, you would finally realize you only needed him in your life. You didn’t need Alicent, or your brothers and sister. If you had ask him to take you away and settled down in Essos or Pentos, he would’ve gladly packed a bag and ride off with you on Vermax while knowing the risks that came with it.

You were enough for him. So why wasn’t he enough for you?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Atleast they made up😍 kinda- but omg I’m never writing smut again that was tiring and scary (I’m lying..) HOLY SHIT THAT WAS SO LONG LMFAO

taglist (woohoo!): @sigynxlokiwifelover @l-3-e @audigay @urmomsgirlfriend1 @cold-v0dka @cookielovesbook-akie @theoriginalwife000 @xoxovenusquinn(would not let me tag u:( @ghalakgx (would not let me tag:( @neenieweenie @classysassynabitsmartassy @generousbearwolflight @gariben @si1versamurai @deltamoon666 @aemondssiut (would not let me tag u:( @thelastemzy @ryantryan6969 @topazy @starogeorgina @infinitleyethereal @speedypeter @dramaroomrat @potatolady189 (would not let me tag u:( @zzz000eee @parkchaeyoung1997 @jaehyunyah

[theemporium]

Could you do a James Potter c reader smut pls

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

James Potter wasn’t quite sure how he got into this situation but he wasn’t complaining.

The roars of the crowds and the thrill of their win was still buzzing through his body as they marched into the common room, holding the Quidditch Cup above their heads like they were kings and queens. 

It had taken less than fifteen minutes after Gryffindor had won the final match that confirmed their win before the common room had been turned into a party scene with balloons and streamers and smuggled bottles of booze shared amongst the group. 

It had taken even less time for James to be roped into some drinking games because he was competitive down to his bone and he would be damned if he let Sirius beat him at shotgunning a can of beer they had smuggled in through the muggle world.

And then somehow between the drinking and the dancing and the celebrating with his team and house, James’ eyes caught yours and it was like a quick spiral from there. 

One minute he was staring at you from across the room and the next he was dancing with your back pressed against his front, your ass grinding against his dick. Then you were kissing in the middle of the common room, only for you to take his hand and guide him somewhere a little more quiet. Then before his brain could even catch up, you were sinking down on your knees in front of him, your wide eyes gleaming up at his dumbstruck expression. 

“The captain deserves a reward, no?”

James gulped. “I thought the trophy was my reward.”

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, brows raised in question as you reached for his belt buckle but the boy quickly shook his head. “Words, Potter.” 

“I, uh, I want this,” he stuttered out, his cheeks burning red as you tugged his zip down. 

“Anything for you, captain,” you murmured with a smirk on your lips as you pulled his cock free from his confinements, stroking his length until a small bead of precum oozed from the tip and then you took him in your mouth.

James was about ninety percent convinced that this was some wet dream he was going to kick himself from waking up from in a few moments. Between the Quidditch Cup win and the pretty girl sucking his cock whilst she swore his jersey number on her back, he swore this was only something his deepest desires could conjure up. 

But then you were moaning around his cock, reminding him that this was very real and his hands were tangled in your hair as he fucked your mouth. 

“Fuck, you look gorgeous with my cock in your mouth, darling,” he groaned, his thighs clenching as your nails dug into his skin, but he enjoyed the bite of pain. “You like having your mouth full, hm? Bet you fucking love when I fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

You could only moan around his cock in response. 

He could barely take it anymore as he looked down at you, only to find you already staring at him with glossy eyes, tears pooling and threatening to fall down your cheeks. He noticed the way your hips rocked aimlessly, the idea that you were enjoying this as much as he was was enough to tip him over the edge as he shot into your mouth. 

His head fell back against the wall, his lips parting as he groaned out your name as he came. His chest was heaving as he took a second to ground himself before he looked down at you, seeing you swipe your thumb to catch any of his release that you had missed and fuck, that had to be one of the hottest things he had ever seen.

“Fucking hell, darling, you’re gonna kill a man,” he murmured as his hooded eyes focused on the way your thighs clenched together to try ease your own desire.

“I’ll take that as a compliment to my blowjob skills,” you retorted, making his lips twitch in amusement. 

“Let me return the favour, baby,” he said to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. 

You raised your brows. “You ready to go again so soon, Potter?”

His smile was wolfish as he responded. “Oh baby, I plan to have you come on my face at least two times before I fuck you with my cock.”

.

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 28

Sun Wukong when Tripitaka kicks him out for murder, so he decides to do more murder:

Last chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest ended on a real low note with Sun Wukong being banished from the group, so lets see what happens now that they are apart shall we?

So Sun Wukong returns home to Flower Fruit Mountain only to find it in terrible shape because Erlang had burned it to the ground back when Wukong was causing a disturbance in the heavens. While Wukong is grieving the state of his home he is accosted by a couple of monkey's who welcome him home. Wukong asks them why everyone is hiding because he's been back for a while and hasn't seen any of them until now. So the little monkey's tell him all about their troubles, ever since the Great Sage was captured by heaven the residents of Flower Fruit Mountain have been suffering from the hands of hunters. The monkeys beg him to do something about this and Sun Wukong asks how many of them are left to find out that only a thousand so remain when they used to number around forty seven thousand. About half of that number was killed when Erlang burned the mountain, which also caused another half of that number to leave because of a lack of food and the rest of their number was dwindled even further by the hunters who come to capture or eat them. Also I should add a crime list to heaven, because collective punishment like this is a war crime. Not Cool Erlang.

After hearing about the horrible fates his people has been suffering in his absence, Wukong asks who's left that's still in charge and he finds this his two marshals Ma and Liu and his two generals Peng and Ba are still alive at least. So Sun Wukong sends the little monkeys out to announce his return to them.

So Wukong is greeted by his underlings and they ask him why he is not currently heading west accompanying the Tang Monk. So he tells them all about how he used his abilities to protect him, but when he killed a demon for him, he accused him of doing evil and banished him. The monkeys are quick to celebrate this news, more than happy to have their king back, but Wukong isn't ready to party just yet, because first he has some business to attend to.

So Wukong has the little monkeys gather small rocks for him and put them into piles, then he has them hide in the cave so they'll be out of harms way for what he does next. Then Wukong heads to the peak of the mountain and spots the hunters coming up the mountain, over a thousand of them. So Wukong uses his magic to create a violent wind, which scattered the stones the little monkeys had collected sending them at the hunters at deadly speeds. It was no contest who the winner of that fight was, it was a massacre. Sun Wukong is very amused by this, after all the Tang Monk was always telling him that 'Do good a thousand days, but the good is still insufficient; Do evil for one day, and that evil is already excessive.' But! Doing evil is super easy, just like killing those hunters was.

After that Sun Wukong tells the other monkeys that it's safe to come out and has them loot the bodies of the dead hunters. And he uses the banners of the hunters to make one large banner and on it he wrote: 'The Flower-Fruit Mountain Rebuilt, The Water Curtain Cave Restored- Great Sage Equal to Heaven' therefore announcing his presence to the world and hopefully scaring away any other would be antagonizers. After that he helps restores Flower Fruit Mountain with some water he borrowed from the Dragon Kings. With the mountain restored and safe once more, Sun Wukong gladly settles down to party without a care in the world.

So with Monkey partying it up on Flower Fruit Mountain we cut back to Tripitaka and the rest of the pilgrims to see how they are faring without him. So the pilgrims are continuing on their journey until Tripitaka gets hungry again and asks Pigsy to go get him some vegetarian food. So Pigsy agrees and heads off with the alms bowl- on foot despite the fact that he can fly. So Pigsy walks for about ten miles before realizing this whole 'getting food for Tripitaka thing' isn't as easy as Monkey always made it look. After walking a little whiles more he decides to give up, but since Tripititaka might not believe him if he says there is nothing to eat if he comes back this soon, he decides to take a nap for an hour to kill some time. If Pigsy wanted to continue being lazy like this maybe he should have thought twice before he got the one contributing the most to this little group project expelled but alas.

Tripitaka meanwhile is getting anxious about what could be taking Pigsy this long. (After all Wukong never took this long...) Sandy tries to assure him that Pigsy is probably just off stuffing his own face before he comes back to feed Tripitaka. Tripitaka says that's still a problem though because it's getting late and they need to find lodging for the night. So Sandy has Tripitaka wait there while he goes off to find Pigsy and drag him back. Leaving Tripitaka completely without any body guards or protection. Unless you count the horse. Which- you probably shouldn't count the horse.

Finding himself all alone, eventually Tripitaka decides to tie up the horse and leave the luggage and take a leisurely stroll through the suspicious forest. And during this stroll he of course becomes lost. Unluckily for him he comes across a beautiful golden pagoda. Which despite being super suspicious, Tripitaka is rather thrilled about and decides to ask the owner if he can have lodging for the night, only to find that of course of course, the owner of this place is a scary demon, who is fortunately asleep at the moment. Now if Sun Wukong were here, he would have been able to see that this place was a trap from a thousand miles away- I mean Tripitaka probably still wouldn't have listened to him, but at least he would have been warned.

Upon seeing the demon Tripitaka makes his first smart decision all day and decides to run away. Unfortunately Tripitaka doesn't make it very far before the demon senses his presence and has his minion demon's capture him. Tripitaka tries to flee, but is rather to paralyzed by fear to make it far. So the minion demons bring Tripitaka to their boss and the demon asks Tripitaka who he is and where he came from and where he's going. So Tripitaka recites his mission statement and says that he didn't mean to disturb the demon so if you'll excuse him he really should be on his way... but of course he'll record the demon's illustrious name for posterity....

The Demon however is much more interested in eating such an illustrious monk! So he has his minion demons tie Tripitaka to a pole. The Demon then asks Tripitaka how many people are in his entourage, so Tripitaka tells him he has two disciples Zhu Eight rules and the Sha Monk. He also tells him he has a horse and some luggage. Notably he doesn't mention Sun Wukong despite Sun Wukong telling him to use his name for protection at their parting. Which credit where credit is due, Tripitaka certainly keeps his word. He said he wouldn't use Wukong's name, and he wouldn't use the fillet no matter what happened, so he won't, even if it means getting eaten by a demon. Anyways, hearing this the demon decides to wait for the two disciples to arrive at his doorstep looking for their master so he can capture and eat them to.

We cut back to said disciples to find that Sandy managed to find Pigsy, thanks to the fact that Pigsy was talking in his sleep. So Sandy gives him a quick scolding for sleeping on the job before telling him that the food doesn't matter anymore now they have to find a place to stay the night. So Sandy drags Pigsy back to where they left Tripitaka only to find Tripitaka missing. Sandy yells at Pigsy saying that Tripitaka must have been seized by a monster because Pigsy took so long. Pigsy denies this saying that Tripitaka probably just wandered off somewhere... which I guess means they are both kind of right? Tripitaka did wander off... and then got seized by a monster. So the two start looking for Tripitaka and before long find the Pagoda. Pigsy is certain that Tripitaka is there being treated hospitably, but Sandy is a little more wary. Although he can't discern good and evil like Sun Wukong can, at least he is slightly more wary of things that look to good to be true and says they should have a look first.

So with the power of rolling a perception check and passing, Sandy is able to determine that this place is a demon lair. Despite this information Pigsy isn't deterred and has Sandy guard the horse and luggage while he bangs on the door. The minion demons tell their boss that there are two ugly looking monks outside knocking on their door. The Demon realizes this must be the two disciples he's heard so much about and gets dressed in his armor to go out and great them.

So the Demon Yellow Robe, asks them what they want, and Pigsy demands that he send out Tripitaka if he has him. The Demon says that he does indeed have Tripitaka and is showing him the finest hospitality, in fact he was just preparing some human meat buns for him to enjoy. And he invites Pigsy and Sandy to come inside and also have some. Pigsy if of course all for taking this wonderful offer, but Sandy stops him and reminds him that he's vegetarian now. Man with Sun Wukong gone Sandy has it rough to since now the 'Pigsy wrangling duties' fall on him.

Anyways, realizing he's being tricked Pigsy strikes out with his rake and the fight between the demon and Pigsy and Sandy begins.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years. Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, and object transformation. Demon Kill Count: 5+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1006 God's Defeated: 19 + Unknown number Defeats: 3 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law and looting corpses. Cry Count: 4 Mountains Trapped Under: 1

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization and Heart Sutra. Cry Count: 15 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 27 Paralyzed by fear: 5 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 3 Falling Off Horses: 6

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, and flight. Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 1

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater and cloud soaring. Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 3 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping and arson.

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, and desecration of a human corpse.

Previous - Masterpost - Next

[electrospherevaults]

I Made You Breakfast

[Find other stories from the 2024 Friday Writing Challenge here]

It had been one more of those early mornings. He woke up and checked back and he saw his General still soundly asleep besides him on the pillow that they shared. Soundly was a correct word to use, he thought, because his snore could be loud enough to disturb the birds outside the window and ruin their song. Other times, their rhythms matched, and he would lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat as his slow restful rumbled breathing would tickle his ear. It had not been the first time, but it had been a long time since they last could be afforded the decency of a privacy.

How ironic; now that peace reigned, they could not have been driven further apart.

The days they spent in the mud and the shrubs, on the campaign trail to save their lands, had been some of the harshest his short as of yet life had to endure. In blood and sinew, they were made enemies once upon a time, him a prince and his opponent a lieutenant. He recalled his friend, the cunning Lady Wrethella, and her army of maidens which he admired as much as he feared. Thanks to her cunning and a slight slip-up, he bested his opponent in battle. A couple nights later, a slight slip-up of his own led their lips to entangle for the first time. The night tasted like wine, and the day tasted like soot, and the embers of his friend’s home led to the dissolution of twelve years of war. They never had been enemies, they never should have been ones, but he was once a Prince of the Autumn Court of the Solarian Kingdoms. Twelve years of war, and all it took to end it was a woman vowing her revenge on the world as they knew it.

They failed to save those old mythic lands not because they did not try their best, but because the hatred of their nations ran deeper than the veins from which they all once sprouted from together.

Peace is a funny thing to listen at in the morning. The summer house was secluded, a retreat deep in the countryside that was partially owned by both of their nations and which exchanged hands every so often. It had been fifty years since Mytheria drew its last breath, and the birds of this new world chirped the same songs he had grown listening once upon a child with young ears and even younger fur and horns that longed to grow, to be as ferocious as his grandfather’s, to rival those of his brothers, to be equal in the image his father imposed on him. The father he once loved lay slain by the sword he gave her, thanks to the gates he unlocked for her willingly. In return, she had promised him a quick, clean kill.

There could have been no other way. For the world to live, Mytheria had to die. A death metaphorical and literal, manifested upon by the blood of creatures mythical and strange and real. Critters that sleep peacefully until the sun rises over the horizon, rumbling in their sleep, mumbling sweet words in languages they call their own. That night once tasted like wine. The wine tasted like bark. Last night, the celebration of his birthday which coincided with his rise as the new rightful and sole King of Kings of Solaria, they got to meet once more. He was back from the deep ends of the galaxy, hunting down the threat their enemies posed upon them. He had grown to have silver hair, and his moustache had grown longer, falling gently upon lips cracked with age.

“Maybe one day we shall dance again without the eyes of the world upon us, mon ami,” he told him amicably, his fingers lingering upon his shoulder in the hope that the lights would go out and the eyes would divert and the world would extinguish – if only for a moment. He still carried their combined scars, retraced at the end of a night they once slipped by. That bombed out fortress had a balcony that overlooked a meadow and a river, a river they once shared, where they bathed in the evening and cooked breakfast by its shores the morning after. And as his fingers left his shoulders, the nobles and the officers and all the highly esteemed creatures of the courts sought his attention. An attention so fleeting yet in such high demand; the monotony of the expectation ate his insides. He needed the escape.

Late that same night, he pulled his General to the side, behind a curtain on a room adjacent to the throne. He gave him an envelope, and a promise to see each other in three days’ time. He sealed the promise with a kiss that was so sudden and so fleeting, and he was gone again in an instant; passed by the veil to the side where their combined high societies expected better of them. A society that had separated them into a master of peace and a commander of war. Of course the General obliged; he would have been a fool and a moron to not do so. He was kind and thoughtful to every man and woman that had earned his trust, and to his beloved King he had nothing but his whole heart deposited upon the trust he assured him. In their common struggle, they learned a lot about each other. Chief among them, the once young prince discovered the delicacies of the scythian cuisine, the way the once young lieutenant enjoyed a good charred slab of meat cut on cubes on a skillet and served with sunny side-up eggs and softened onions.

He could say “I made you breakfast” but it would have still been a lie because a King does not make his own food, let alone his own bed. And yet, under the glow of the rising sun, within those golden embers of daylight, he found a reason to live. He retraced the steps he half-remembered from years past. Mytheria was gone and all that was left was peace; and peace tasted like burnt toasted bread, slightly charred slabs of meat cuts, and spilled eggs that resembled a scramble more than they did the sun. The sun itself would have to suffice outside, glowing over the meadows and the rivers this valley overlooked. The wind was crisp. He did not notice how louder the birds had been singing the songs of their homeworld. Stepping slowly with half-dazed eyes that were still heavy from sleeping in late, the General arrived to the kitchenette. His face beamed with a smile. “What did you dream about, Arckie?” he asked his King. “For I dreamed about making you breakfast again.”

[stiaral]

Starbomb and music theory 🦌🎵

CW : Strong Language

After 3 albums of greatness, it seemed like the magic of Starbomb would be a long gone memory, but miraculously in a tweet on the 27th of February 2023 our prayers had been answered ; the kings shall return.

And returned they have, with their new album Starbomb Boom: Rise of Lyrics. At the time I'm writing this post, their music video for Kiss the Elden Ring has recently been released and hopefully we'll still see new content for that 4th album.

If my username on most platforms is Starceptor it's because of Starbomb and Egoraptor (Arin Hanson), who's a member of the band alongside Danny Sexbang (Dan Avidan) and Ninja Brian (Brian Wecht) - listening to their songs on loop for years has significantly helped me become more casual with English (swears included), they introduced me to a whole new side of online and gaming nerd culture while also making me more interested in music-making in general by ensuring a place in my heart as one of my favorite bands of all time. By talking about them, I am somewhat also going back to the roots of my own motivations for making music, so I find it fitting that I refer to them in the context of my personal journey with composing.

I'm usually not a big fan of the kind of humor that Starbomb embraces but, they use it in such an over the top and self-parodic manner in their songs that it loops back to being funny again. As a celebration of their new album I wanted to go back to this awesome band in order to analyze what constitutes their musical identity.

Unfortunately, they already beat me to it :

This is usually the part where I sing the chorus out. But we haven't established what this song is all about. Then I chime in real quick for a just a second as the character delivers a line that reminds us of the joke. And I'll respond with harmonies, isn't that dope ?

This is when the song concept should heighten for effect. If you think we use that formula a lot, you are correct.

Danny said everything there, Starbomb does rely a lot on very similar patterns from one song to another. They are a self-described (in the about section of their website) synthpop/hip-hop band, and these pop influences can definitely be found all throughout this "formula" they "use a lot". Since the late 1970s, synthpop focused mainly on minor key songs, and if we take a look at the first Starbomb album :

I choose you to die / C-Minor

It's dangerous to go alone / A-Minor

Mega-Marital problems / D-Minor

Rap Battle : Ryu vs Ken / F#-Minor

Book of Nook / A#-Minor

Regretroid (my personal favorite) / Bb-Minor

Kirby's adventure in Reamland / G-Minor

The Simple Plot of Final Fantasy VII / A-Minor

8 songs in minor key, but the repetitions do not end here. Without going into much detail, most of the progressions within the first album are very common, almost cliché in pop music and well, there are some other redundant patterns...

To poetically quote this review of the first album ;

"[...] the phrase “What up b*tch?” is used so many times on this album, you begin to wonder whether Jessie Pinkman had a hand in its creation."

Point is, the instrumental at first never was the focus of Starbomb songs, the lyrics and their punchline were. But once you fall for the charm of these dumb jokes that get overextended to the full lenght of a song, you begin to love these same synthetizers you hear almost every time or even appreciate in what ways the instrumental might differ from the usual (shoutout to the chilled out groove of It's dangerous to go alone). The band is very aware of this, in fact, while all of their songs in the 3rd album sound quite unique, the one that ressembles the most the formula of their earlier songs is precisely the parody of their own repetitions : This song sucks. And from the first to their fourth album you see their progression wihen it comes to making the back-up music for their songs thematically coherent (starting at first with songs like Luigi's Ballad that alternate to a different tempo whether Luigi or Mario are singing, to reallly taking full effect with the second album onwards. For example how can't I mention one of their most recent songs Nintendo's Greatest Announcement done entirely in whispered rapping as said "Announcement" supposedly is a secret leak).

Arin is hitting that yoinky spoinkly like a champ.

If it weren't for Starbomb, well first of all I wouldn't have named myself Starceptor and therefore later on Stiaral, but I probably wouldn't have been introduced either to an awesome passion project on the internet that would have influenced me to work on my own stuff using also back-up synths and some chiptune soundfonts I'd end up playing around with on MuseScore.... Oh and fun thing the base for my fursona's hairstyle actually is Starbomb Link's cut.

Best Link design ever /hj - love what they did especially with the eye lashes.

[locke-writes]

2k Celebration - OC Playlist: May I request oc playlits for some of my characters? (They will be in separate asks, just wanted to say beforehand that there's 4)

Diana Johnson is my oc for a DCEU fanfic set in the Suicide Squad movie. Diana is a metahuman who discovered her ability to manipulate the energy around her on her 22nd birthday. For the next two years after this discovery Diana distanced herself from most of the world in fear of herself and moved to a middle of nowhere town. Eventually she thought she had a good enough handle on her powers and decided to move back into the city. This was proven wrong when one day when a group of people who had been spying on her all this time cornered her at her job. In a mix of panic and years worth of anxiety she blacked out the event and woke back up surrounded by rubble and ash. It turned out her powers took on a mind of their own and completely demolished the building and anyone who was inside, she was the only survivor. This was how she ended up in a max security prison and left to be alone in a metal enclosed room. Though she didn’t necessarily mind the loneliness. Diana hated what had happened and hated herself for it, she would have done anything to be the one who died instead of the innocent. So, if she was to stay in a metal box forever that meant she couldn’t hurt anyone else. But when she was suddenly let out of prison to go on a mission that almost certainly ended in death, she just decided to do what she was told and just get it over with. Diana would have rathered to sit in solitude for the rest of her life, but she took this as maybe her last chance to “redeem” herself. To her surprise though this mission brought her the chance to meet the infamous Harley Quinn who in return managed to bring out Diana’s old self a little. Diana’s old self being a quick witted yet incredibly caring person. (4/4)

And thank you so much in advance!!

The New Day - Greta Van Fleet

End of May - Keren Ann

You Have Killed Me - Morrissey

Lost In My Mind - The Head and the Heart

The Way It Ends - Landon Pigg

White Blank Page - Mumford & Sons

Cactusland - House of Freaks

Break - Marcus King

Live Learn and Forget - Nada Surf

In Hell - Japanese Breakfast

Nothing Is Real - The Milk Carton Kids

Fact & Friction - The Nearly Deads

Fire By Night - Josh Garrels

Heat Lightning - Mitski

One of These Things First - Nick Drake

[freenewsreport]

Jim Davidson Net Worth: From Comedy to Controversy, How Rich is He Really?

When it comes to British comedians, Jim Davidson is a name that often pops up—though not always for his comedy. His career has seen its share of highs and lows, from being the king of stand-up comedy in the '80s to later making headlines for more controversial reasons. But one question that lingers in the minds of fans and critics alike is: What is Jim Davidson's net worth? Has his turbulent career impacted his finances, or is he still laughing all the way to the bank? Let’s take a deeper dive into the wealth and legacy of this notorious comedian.

Early Career: A Rising Star

Davidson’s early career was nothing short of meteoric. Bursting onto the comedy scene in the 1970s, his brash, no-holds-barred humor resonated with audiences who were hungry for something bold and different. He quickly rose through the ranks, gaining fame through shows like New Faces and The Comedians. Before long, he was a household name in Britain.

Success in the entertainment industry often comes with a financial windfall, and Jim Davidson's net worth was no exception. By the time the 1980s rolled around, Davidson was not only a television star but also a best-selling author and a regular on the stand-up circuit. His comedy tours were packed, and his bank account was growing.

The Television Years: Growing Fame and Fortune

At the height of his career, Davidson’s TV presence was ubiquitous. He hosted the popular game show Big Break for over a decade and The Generation Game, which further catapulted him to fame. His quick wit and irreverent style made him a fan favorite, even if his jokes sometimes courted controversy.

During these years, his television success significantly boosted Jm Daviidson's net worth. The consistent flow of income from both hosting and touring ensured that he lived a comfortable life. He invested in properties, luxurious cars, and even produced several of his own shows.

Subheading: Financial Highs During Television Peak

TV show hosting: Big Break, The Generation Game—major income sources.

Property investments: Real estate ventures kept his wealth secure.

Comedy tours: A constant stream of revenue from sold-out shows.

Controversies: The Rise and Fall

Unfortunately, with fame often comes controversy, and Davidson was no stranger to it. His comedy, known for pushing boundaries, started facing backlash for being politically incorrect. Audiences were shifting towards more socially conscious comedy, leaving Davidson in a difficult spot. He faced criticism and even bans from several platforms due to his provocative material.

This public perception shift undoubtedly affected Jim Davidson's net worth. TV networks distanced themselves, and his stand-up gigs weren’t as packed as before. For a while, it seemed like his career, and by extension his financial situation, had taken a sharp downturn.

Financial Troubles: Taxman Comes Knocking

Even more trouble loomed on the horizon when Davidson faced financial scrutiny from the government. He was involved in legal disputes with the tax authorities, which led to significant financial strain. His net worth took a hit as he was forced to sell off some of his assets to settle debts.

For a while, things looked bleak for the comedian, but Davidson wasn’t one to give up easily. He fought his battles in court and eventually resolved his financial issues, but not without seeing his wealth decrease considerably.

A Surprising Comeback: Winning Celebrity Big Brother

Just when people thought Davidson’s career was all but over, he made a surprising return to the limelight by winning Celebrity Big Brother in 2014. His appearance on the show won him back public favor, and with it came new opportunities. TV networks once again showed interest, and his comedy tours picked up momentum. Although not as financially lucrative as his prime, Davidson’s resurgence helped revive Jim Davidson's net worth.

Subheading: Post-Big Brother Earnings

New comedy specials: Returning to the stage with fresh material.

Public appearances: Events and media interviews further boosting income.

Current Net Worth: How Much is Jim Davidson Worth?

So, where does all of this leave Jim Davidson's net worth today? Estimates place it between £2 million and £5 million, depending on the source. While not as high as his heyday, it’s still a testament to his resilience and ability to bounce back from financial and career-related hurdles.

Davidson’s diversified income streams—comedy, books, television—have kept him afloat, even when the tides turned against him. And despite controversies, he continues to draw audiences, proving that his brand of humor still has a place in the entertainment world.

Conclusion

Jim Davidson's career has been nothing short of a rollercoaster ride, filled with laughter, controversy, and financial ups and downs. From being a comedy giant in the 1980s to facing career-threatening controversies and tax issues, he’s always managed to find his way back to the spotlight.

Jim Davidson's net worth might not be what it once was, but his ability to endure and adapt is nothing short of impressive. At the end of the day, it’s clear that Davidson will continue to remain a notable figure in British entertainment, with a bank account to back it up—though perhaps not as hefty as before.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina! ☕️

Kim and I rented a place for a week to share with our kids, grandkids, and our dogs! We arrived around 7PM Friday evening, got setup, had some pizza, and pretty much passed out.

We haven’t had time to do any real recon of the are but I did manage to find a decent pizza joint and a Food Lion so we could pick up odds and ends to stock the fridge for the week.

From Friday to Tuesday it’s all about our kids and grandkids. Tuesday forward it’ll just be Kim and I and our oldest grandchild until next Saturday.

I was hoping to get some extra bunk time but that ain’t gonna happen with a puppy who thinks 5:30AM is play time. 🤣

We’re going to have a great time at the beach and whatever else we can drum up.

Enjoy the links.

Daring Fireball

But even just a small taste of VisionOS made me feel confident that it is going to be the next major platform for Apple and Apple developers, alongside MacOS and iOS/iPadOS.

I wasn’t too excited about any new AR/VR headset Apple was set to release, then I saw it in the keynote.

At first I was disappointed because they were showing someone in an office using it to replace their monitor(s) and that’s kind of boring.

The we see someone celebrating a child’s birthday wearing the headset. Really? What a complete douchebag. No, seriously, that’s a really bad move.

But, when I saw them demonstrate watching movies with it, I was excited! That is what I’d use it for!

Am I spending $3,500 anytime soon on one? Hell no! It’s still to early for me, especially at that price. It’s hard to justify it.

Steven Beschloss

Donald Trump himself broke the news this evening that he’s been indicted—making him the first former president to ever be charged with a federal crime.

King ding dong himself is finally being indicted for his retention of government documents. It’s not about him accidentally having a few mixed in with his other papers, it’s about boxes of them, not returning them on request, and lying that he did return them.

The right like to say “What about Biden and Pence?” Indeed, what about them. They self reported having documents and turned them over right away.

TFG is a real garbage human wrapped in a suit. My hope is, at a minimum, he’s banned from running for any federal office ever again.

Colin Paice

Easy question – hard answer, how to I convert a hex string to hex byte string in C?

Go along for the ride. I haven’t taken the time to think through how to solve this and I only have nits to pick with Colin’s solution.

Virginia Mercury

Richmond’s post-graduation mass shooting reflects America’s gun violence epidemic

This is so sickening. The shooting is absolutely horrific but to do it at a graduation? It’s heartbreaking how callous our nation has become.😔

Swift.org

This document is the reference guide describing how to mix Swift and C++

Since this was done as an official way to use C++ from Swift there was all kinds of thought out into safety. That’s fine, but if you have a great hunk of C++ that has been thoroughly tested and you feel good about it you probably don’t need the training wheels provided by this support.

Just wrap your C++ in a thin layer of Objective-C++ and call it from your Swift code without penalty. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Robert Reich

Goodbye, CNN’s Chris Licht. But what’s the lesson?

I know he screwed the pooch with that TFG interview thing but man, that was pretty quick.

512 Pixels

The number of 2019 Mac Pros sold cannot be huge, but the new one’s numbers are going to be even smaller. As a Mac Pro fan that worries me. Yes, there are users who are reliant on PCI solutions and I’m sure those folks will upgrade to this new machine at some point.

Who is this computer for? That’s the question on most folks minds. When I heard it wasn’t nearly as expandable as the 2019 version it made me wonder why they bothered? Beyond the awesome SOC it doesn’t have more to offer than its 2019 counterpart.

Then again, I’ve never been the target of this computer. I’m still using a 2019 MacBook Pro and I’m fine with it. Heck, I have a brand new M2 based MacBook Pro sitting in a box waiting for me to set it up. 🤣

Audibon.org

But as Adams scanned the bustling crowd of King Penguins, elephant seals, and Antarctic fur seals, he spotted something bizarre in the distance.

Go check out the post. This bird is gorgeous and I want it.

Jalopnik

Could The NASCAR Garage 56 Camaro Beat Every GTE Car At Le Mans?

I’d love to watch this all the way through but that’s not gonna happen. I hope NASCAR has partnered with someone to do a full documentary on it. The process from concept to reality to running the race. I hope it makes it the full 24 hours. That alone would be a huge victory.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Shedding Skin

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Targaryen!Reader, Rhaegar Targaryen x Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: running away, secret identity, rhaegar is still chasing after Lyanna, low-key inc3sty cuz ya'know how Targaryens be, moderate angst,

Words: 2703

Summary: You wouldn't let your brother Rhaegar humiliate you. No. Faking your own death, you travel to Dorne and there shed your dragon skin to become a new person. A happier person.

“Please do not cry, Princess-”

Furiously you shake your head and wipe your eyes dry. “No. Haven’t you heard? Princess (y/n) Targaryen is dead.”

Oberyn purses his lips but nods. “Forgive me.” He shoots an uncertain look at Doran who observed and listened quietly.

Doran finally spoke “You know if anyone were to find out you were actually alive, Dorne could be in trouble with the crown.”

No one would. You made sure of that. You would do anything if it meant that you didn’t have to go through with marrying your brother Rhaegar. You’d give him what he wanted: freedom so that he could venture after Lyanna Stark. This arrangement had been your father’s idea and at first you and Rhaegar initially agreed to it. But then came the tourney. That dreadful tourney that made your insides turn bitter.

His older brother’s words made Oberyn laugh freely. “Us in trouble? They won’t even dare to start a war with us again. History has proven us victorious. Let them believe she is dead. You had it right, (y/n), to come to Dorne for sanctuary. If my brother refuses, then I will gladly help you. Elia’s been needing a new lady-in-waiting.”

“Oberyn. . .”

Turning to Doran, Oberyn gestures to you. “How can you even think of turning her away? She’s been through so much. She traveled all the way to Dorne by herself.”

“Others will know immediately.” He pointed out. “She’s simply too Targaryen.”

“True, but nothing we can’t fix. Dye her hair with black ink and let her tan. She’ll look like a real Dornish woman in no time.”

“The eyes-”

Quick to shoot that idea down, Oberyn reminds him that “Ashara Dayne has purple eyes. Many in House Dayne possess that trait.”

He put up a good argument and you knew that Doran would accept.

How easily it was to become Eirene Sand. A bastard with no history.

Arianne and Elia become your mentors on how to act like a true Dornish lady and helped to undo the damage that your family had done to you. You had to learn to demand attention from a room the moment you arrive, to look men above you straight in the eyes. To flaunt your body with confidence and use it to your advantage. Arianne had complained that the people of Westeros were repressed and how Dorne had much more freedom then them. Already you had felt that freedom and you embraced it. Never again would you return to Westeros, and that was okay with you. You had shed your dragon skin and became an elegant cobra (which Oberyn had dubbed you lovingly). Over time your skin had indeed lost the milky white hue and turned that of sweet toffee; silver hair repeatedly dyed with ink that held an undertone of dark blue.

**

Ashara had to contain her giggle as she watched her love struck brother. The moment Arthur had spotted Eirene, he was smitten. For her birthday, her brother had come home from Westeros as a present. A very well received present to Ashara’s delight as it had been a couple of years since she had seen her brother. King’s Landing was a mess and Westeros was practically near civil war. Rhaegar Targaryen had granted his most loyal knight this boon.

In celebration, even some of House Martell came out to Starfall. Elia and her niece Arianne had showered her with love and affection; Elia bringing her lady-in-waiting Eirene Sand. A lovely creature with sparkling orchid eyes that outshined even Ashara’s. The three women made a beautiful Dornish trio. And her brother seemed to notice this as well. Especially as Eirene now dazzled her audience with a burst of orange and pink silks, her hair long and free as she danced.

Crossing her arms in front of her, Ashara forces the mischievous curl of her lips to disappear. “See something you like?”

Startled, he jumps. To everyone he was the Sword of the Morning. One of the strongest men in Westeros. To Ashara, Arthur would always be her dorky, shy, big brother. His own lilac eyes wide above a deep blush on his tan skin. “You’ve always been so quiet.” Grumbled Arthur as he straightens himself up, now averting his eyes from watching the exquisite maiden.

“No, you’ve just always been so absorbed in things you’re interested about that you don’t hear me coming. Or in this case, people.” Finishing her sentence, she ends it with a wink. She relished in the adorable blush it produced. He was still such a child. Quickly so Arthur couldn’t escape, Ashara digs her nails into his arm and drags him toward Eirene. Sensing the danger ahead, Arthur digs his heels into the floor and begins to beg his sister to stop.

“Eirene!”

Obediently, Eirene looks over at Ashara and smiles. In such a subtle manner, her eyes flicked over to Arthur whose whole entire face was red. Her bright eyes immediately reduce Arthur to a puddle and also remind him of another young lady who had very similar jewels. (y/n) Targaryen. The once beautiful Targaryen princess who met an untimely death. A true loss of the sweet girl who had hair like starlight that had caused Rhaegar to spiral down into grief. His prince knew it was his fault, the death of his sister. A deadly blow to King’s Landing as it had also ruined the plan that King Aerys had to marry the two and continue the purity of the Targaryen line. So beautiful and sweet (y/n) had been, always a delight and brightened the room with her smile. She was the treasure of Westeros.

Eirene, however, was the complete opposite in terms of physical attributes. (y/n) had been like a snow fae with her light hair and even lighter skin. The Dornish beauty before him was kissed by the sun with deep black hair that shone dark blue in certain lighting. The silks of her dress hugged each delicate curve to emphasize her womanly charms. Lashes long enough to hold a matchstick fluttered coyly whenever she spoke to anyone; men and women alike fell asunder to her. Arthur’s princess had been nothing like Eirene. Quiet and polite, (y/n) was like a gentle ray of the sun; unimposing and bright with the ability to warm anyone to the bone. It was said that before madness started to rot away the king’s mind that (y/n) was the apple of her father’s eye. He thought no one would be good enough for her except for her own brother Rhaegar.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur spots an inquisitive Arianne who cranes her head around Ser Andrey Dalt; a gold circlet resting on her brow.

“Would you mind keeping my brother company?” Ashara asks Eirene with a sweet voice. “He’s quite shy and hates parties but I must entertain the other lords that have come to celebrate.”

Smiling and with a perfect curtsy, Eirene replies “It would be my honor to keep your illustrious brother company.” When she looks at Arthur, her eyes are glittering.

Around her, Arthur felt like a nervous young boy all over again. But Eirene sensed it and made things easier for him. It was comfortable being around her. She smiled and laughed freely and would make jokes just so Arthur didn’t feel as nervous. There was something so uncanny about her though. Like Arthur already knew her .

The night wore on and as it did, the two became closer both physically and mentally. Dornish women were experts at the game of seduction and Arthur was more than ready to succumb. All the while in the back of his mind, he had to remind himself about his knighthood. Ashara was right though. He would always be a Dornish man first and foremost.

“I hear Westerosi knights aren’t allowed to take lovers or wives.” She mused when they had separated themselves from the rest of the dying party. Outside they watched the stars reflect themselves on the calm water below. Starfall was nestled into the side of the Dornish Marches, on the other side of the Prince’s Pass. A quiet and peaceful area that Arthur was proud to call his home.

Eirene looked perfect with Starfall as her backdrop. Her hair nearly blended and disappeared into the night sky. Stars glittered shyly.

“Aye. That is true.” He spoke, but his attention was solely stuck to her face. Eyelashes that fluttered, sweet lilac drawing him further in.

“Don’t you get lonely? You’re a man of Dorne afterall. A shame for any hot blooded Dornish man to sleep alone without a partner.”

“Perhaps that is true for Prince Oberyn Martell and the likes of which Arianne keeps company with.”

“Not you though.”

“Not to say that I don’t get lonely. I’m human after all. But I remember my vows.”

She seems to grimace at this and push off of the rail of the balcony to look directly at him. “So you’re saying that the other men in the Kingsguard follow suit.”

Firmly pressing his lips together, Arthur feels a shift in the air around her. “It would be treasonous if they didn’t.”

Laughter was not the reaction Arthur had been expecting. Eirene kept surprising him. Her harsh laugh sounded so familiar. He was sure that he had heard it before, but the face didn’t match. Well. . . No. Princess (y/n) was dead and gone.

But he was starting to be bothered by the similarities between the two.

“Do you truly believe that, Ser?”

“Do you really believe that Arthur?” (y/n) had said something so similar with the same cruelly broken face. Tears had stained her face and made her red. Eirene looked haughty, not sad. The tone was all the same though.

“I want to believe it.”

She deflated. “You’re too good. What a wonderful lord you would have made.”

Arthur shakes his head. “No. That title is my nephew’s first and foremost. I don’t want it anyway. Being a knight is all I have ever dreamed of. Serving my kingdom and becoming good enough to have songs written about me.” That last part was an obvious lie that had both of them cackling. He had never gotten along so well with a woman. Eirene was something special that he didn’t want to relinquish.

“We’ve been talking a lot about me. What about you?”

Waving her hand and a shake of her head, Eirene scoffs. “Nothing special. Just another bastard. Until Prince Oberyn helped me out. I finally became someone that I was happy with.” There’s warmth there and any other man might think she was in love with Oberyn. Arthur knew better. She did love him, that was clear, but in a respectful manner that made them a type of family. “I literally owe my life to House Martell. I don’t mind one bit. They ask nothing of me that I wouldn’t want to do. Who I was before them doesn’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, that person is dead.”

“Let me go Arthur!” (y/n) had nearly clawed his eyes out with her sharp nails as she scrambled for freedom. Her bag of meager possessions tumbled to the ground, scattering it’s contents. A simple tunic and bottoms, food that would most likely sustain her for a few days. The Princess was planning to escape her prison.

Why did he think of that all of a sudden? It had happened so long ago.

The thought was persistent as slowly Eirene morphed easily into (y/n).

“I don’t want to be HERE anymore!” She screamed and landed a nice punch below his eye. Arthur scolded himself for letting her go in that second. It was already too late for (y/n) though as other guards began filing in. He knew her tears held no sorrow. There was only anger and desperation there. “If you don’t let me go, you’re sentencing me to death. That’s what will happen if I have to stay here any longer.”

“(y/n)-”

“Shut up! Do you hear how people mock me? The worst of it all is knowing Rhaegar no longer wishes for me to be his bride. That’s fine. Because I don’t want him as a groom or a brother.”

“Arthur?” Eirene is thrust back into the scene, melting his memory and coaxing him to the here and now. “Are you okay?”

Almost scared, his voice whispered “(y/n)?”

The name easily slid off of her but there was a subtle difference in her eyes. They refused to look at him. “Who?”

“Princess (y/n) Tagaryen. The Silver Dragon of King’s Landing. Protector of the Dragon Pits.” Only (y/n) would know the meaning behind such a silly title. A fond memory that Rhaegar had shared with Arthur. When times were simpler and nothing was expected of them.

“So this is where the two of you were hiding.” Arianne’s voice made both jump. “(y/n), Elia has been looking for you. Best to attend to her.”

Relief screamed on her face as she nodded. “Goodnight Ser Arthur. Sweet dreams.”

He called out to her as Eirene fled, attempting to follow her but cut off her track by Arianne. “Not so fast. We need to have a talk with you.”

“We?”

Peeling from around the corner was his sister Ashara. “Come along brother. This needs to be disclosed in a secure chamber.”

Two of the most headstrong women in all of Dorne, who was Arthur to try and refuse them?

When they found a secluded enough area, Arthur asked out right if his thoughts were true. Arianne didn’t bother to try and lie. She held down his gaze. “It was Oberyn who saved her. It was I who baptized her as a Dornish woman. She is no longer (y/n) Targaryen, but Eirene Sand.” Arianne Martell gave Arthur a withering glare that made him shrink back unconsciously. Next to her, his sister Ashara was also taking a defensive stance and watching her brother. “You are not to say a word of (y/n) Targaryen ever again. Understood? She is dead. If either Oberyn or myself hear of you trying to tell Prince Rhaegar, there will be a punishment to face. She is under House Martell protection.”

He just couldn’t shake off the feeling that this entire thing was wrong. Westeros had mourned the death of their princess for years. Even Rhaegar had crumbled under his grief. He hadn’t spoken of Lyanna Stark since his sister’s death.

The girl that he had fallen in love with in such a short amount of time was none other than Princess (y/n) Targaryen. Arthur should have known better. The face, the eyes, hell even her laugh had reminded Arthur of the silver haired maiden.

“She is just like any other woman now, Arthur. If you wish to pursue her as a potential bride, go for it.” His sister reminded him quietly, having witnessed the attraction the two had for the other.

“My vows-”

Ashara threw her hands up. “Oh shut up about your vow. You think any of those seasoned knights really don’t have secret wives or mistresses? That didn’t seem to be an issue when the two of you were making eyes at each other.”

“Ashara!” Blushing, Arthur hides his face with his hand pretending to be frustrated but he really felt like a young boy all over again. In love for the very first time and being teased mercilessly by his sister.

Her lips quirk up. “I think you may even love her.”

Even Arianne grinned at that and tried to suppress her giggle. “House Martell would be more than happy to officiate your marriage. Besides, those are only Westerosi ideals. We do things differently here in Dorne, or have you forgotten about your own home?”

That’s right. His heart came to life with hope. He was Dornish through and through and this was his home. His loyalty to the Martells would always be ingrained into him. In Dorne, he could have a life with. . .

(y/n). . .

Eirene. . .

Whoever she wanted to go by. She was still the same person he had fallen for.

[sea-owl]

Please, please have Portia call of a sort of war council with Penelope's besties who are all ticked.

But also imagine Michael being ticked because Colin also deprived him of the potential for a huge party for Penelope. Marriage means weddings and weddings mean booze! But no, Colin had to take that from him and Penelope! 'Enjoy being sober' he thinks as he pours Portia a nice glass of wine.

Michael (hearing that Penelope is getting married): A wedding, I love a wedding! Drinks all around!

Katie: Michael there is no wedding, Colin already married Penelope technically

Michael (gasps): You mean he married Penelope without throwing her a huge bash in her honor?! Oh someone is about to get real sober.

Dear Anon I love this so much and have been laughing about it for the past ten minutes so thank you.

For quick reference, apples have been thought of as a love/seduction fruit in the past. I have heard they were used as a marriage proposal and proposal of sex also sweethearts, giving them as a declaration of love. Now I'm not so sure how completely true this is but it's a fun little trivia.

I'm imagining after Portia's declaration that she heads back to Mary's. There, Kate has already gathered Portia's other daughters, Edwina, Simon, Michael, and Sophie. She tried to get Phillip, but he said he'll be back after he did an urgent errand.

"I heard our Penny is getting married?" Michael asked as soon as he was through the door. "Did Phillip finally toss an apple her way? Oh, they'll make such smart babies! We must celebrate with drinks!"

"Michael, there won't be a wedding," Kate said.

Michael pouted. "Why not? I know they're both introverts, but they wouldn't deny me finally being able to pull out the wedding wine for one of us!"

"I didn't even know Penelope was courting much less to someone serious enough for marriage," Simon said. "Especially since she's been missing for long."

Sophie nodded. "Are those two things related? Is it someone Lady Portia does not approve of?"

Felicity snorted and then got up to pace the room. Philippa squeezed her younger sister's hand while Prudence looked like she ate a lemon.

"Penelope was not courting anyone," Prudence explained. "According to what Felicity told us, Penelope's new husband got permission from Penelope's and Felicity's sire Lord Featherington."

Simon, Michael, Sophie, and Edwina all gave confused looks. Wasn't Lord Featherington practically nonexistent in his daughters' lives?

"So wait how is she getting married with no wedding?" Michael asked.

"That Bridgerton boy stole her," Portia spat from the doorway. "The Dowager High Queen and the High King confirmed it. And they deny bringing her home, claiming the marriage to be legal."

"Oh, Portia," Mary said, hugging her friend.

Portia went over her talk with Violet and Anthony and her declaration to not grow a single thing until Penelope was returned.

The group of friends were just shocked. The Bridgertons don't like anybody, they don't talk to anybody. So why steal Penelope away?

Prudence, Philippa, and Felicity all joined their mother on her strike and refused to use their nature magic.

Simon, Kate, Michael, and Sophie all wrote their own declarations to cease their jobs until their friend was safely returned.

Kate grinned her evil smile. "If that fool of a king thought I was annoying before he has seen nothing yet."

"I was tired of going on quests anyway," Sophie shrugged.

"I can take the time to work on some new designs," Simon said.

Michael snickered. "Enjoy sobriety."

During the negotiations for the 6 month deal, Michael sneaks in an agreement that Colin must throw a huge wedding. He's gonna make Penelope wedding wine damn it. She gave him a new fruit to use, and it's an aphrodisiac!

[kiridarling]

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

request | Can I have royalty au (soon to be king bakugou) (and soon to be queen reader) , katsuki and reader are supposed to be getting married (not to eachother) but they end up sneaking around and doing IT with eachother so top!kats , exhibition , begging , dumbification and spanking THANK YOU💞💞

this lovely request was submitted for the kissing booth event (the rest of the drabbles come out soon, ahem :)) so, if this was your request, um...hAHA whoops.

katsuki bakugou | f!reader, royalty!au, infidelity, nondescript!fiancés, angst (gasp), fingering, exhibitionism, dumbification + more! minors dni!

— 3.7k words

“C'mon, princess...can I make you feel good once last time?

You're getting married.

No more ignorance is bliss, no more I didn't know any better—this is when you put all your childish antics to the side and fucking woman up, now in charge of the safety of your kingdom and its inhabitants and whatnot. So yes, you must snuff all your adolescent tendencies, and that includes sleeping with the Crowned Prince of the neighboring kingdom behind your fiancé's backs.

But, boys are stubborn. And stupid.

Ding ding ding!

"Excuse me, Everyone!" Your fiancé announces to the crowd in your dining room as he stumbles to his feet, spoon clinking against his glass. He nearly trips, but no one sees except yourself. "I would like to make a toast."

You frown. This wasn't a part of the rehearsal dinner.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all for being able to be with us tonight," he says, shoving the glass higher in the air. As red wine splashes over the rim, you think to remind him that isn't a toast, it's the beginning of a speech, but your comments have rarely deterred the man in the past. "As you’re all aware, this marriage is vital. Not only for our kingdom, but for the neighboring kingdom as well."

Your fiancé regards the Bakugou’s with a lift of his chalice. In the coming weeks, two arranged marriages will melt the four most influential kingdoms into two, and your fiancé and his family had the genius to throw a massive Gala to celebrate it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they got off to the idea of stretching themselves so thin their hair falls out at age thirty; they won’t even allow you to choose the type of dress for your wedding.

"I would also like to thank my lovely, lovely wife, for just being so... lovely.” Your fiancé chuckles, accompanied by an uncomfortable massage to your shoulder. The guests find amusement in how whipped he is as he gazes your way expectantly, conceivably wishing to see you swoon at the compliment. All you give him is a blank face. His elation falters.

"You know, when I first met this woman, I knew she was going to be the love of my life," your fiancé shakes your glare off. You purposely block out the rest of his story in favor of folding and unfolding your napkin again, puffing under your breath at the cheesy comment.

"Sap," you grunt to yourself, obviously. You don't expect anyone to hear, but there's a snort to your right. Your eyes lift from your lap—and straight into Katsuki's smug blood red ones. He winks at you from across the table and your eyes roll at that, though there's a small smile playing on your face that's impossible to hide.

"Isn't that right [Y/N]!...[Y/N]?"

You blink yourself back to life, eyes reluctantly leaving Katuski's hypnotic ones for the pair that make you nauseous, "Oh—u-um, yep!"

The place bursts in laughter and there's even a little smile dancing on Katsuki's face. He catches you staring so your eyes divert to your lap, but his remain a physical force against you for the rest of the night.

*selene — the greek goddess of the moon

The balcony is much nicer than the ballroom.

For one, it's the farthest place you could have gone from the commotion, all the way on the opposite side of the castle. It's a solid five-minute walk when you aren't in heels and a heavy petticoat, but it provides a lovely view of your front yard, subjecting you to watch the early-sleepers leave in their carriages to call it a night. Meanwhile, *Selene watches you from her telescope the moon with a sigh and a sad smile, because she's the only one who knows how completely and utterly alone you will be.

You glare at her—the goddess doesn't waver.

Bitch.

It's no secret that Gala’s like these get overwhelming—especially when you're the center of attention. You see Lord Shinsou (Earl) stuff the eager Lord Kaminari (Baron) into his silver-plated carriage before looking around to ensure no one saw, and blanche upon seeing your figure stood on the balcony. You salute so he knows his secret is safe with you, and relief washes over his face before he too hops into the carriage. What a scandal, you giggle.

Plenty of couples resign home after that; it makes you uneasy. You're unsure as to why, but you have the ever-increasing urge to nip at your fingernails until you don't have them anymore, and jamming the sharpest point of your heel into the concrete seems like the only proper way to release enough kinetic energy before you explode.

"He loves me."

He does, embarrassingly so—so what's the issue?

There isn't an issue; there shouldn't be. He reminds you how pretty you are and you compliment his influence. Neither of you are marrying down. You look good together. The kingdom's future power couple if you will, where you two supposedly mold the great future in your peculiarly young hands. There isn't an issue. You're the one for him, and he's the one for you.

The balcony door whines open. You don't turn around, praying whoever it is will see that it's occupied and turn the other cheek. Yet, the stomp of whoever's boots only grow louder until you’re adjacent to a shadow of a being, his chin lifted towards the stars. You catch a glimpse of blond hair, though dyed a pale white by the silver moon, and you two stand in a strangely comfortable silence, watching carriages roll out of your driveway.

The silence doesn’t last for long, though. It never does.

"D’ya always go disappearing like that?"

You frown. "What?"

"I don't fuckin' know," Katsuki grumbles—he has yet to look at you. Seems like Selene captures more than one person's attention tonight. "Blinked and you were gone."

Your frown only deepens, and you return your attention to the courtyard. "I didn't know you were paying attention."

The ash-blond presses his forearms against the railing for support. "I wasn't. He was."

Oh.

"Said he wants you to come back, so," Katsuki clicks his tongue, carmine red eyes finally flicking your way through the darkness. You don’t dare look at him. “You run off often, or what?"

"Tell him I'll come back in a second," you sigh, balancing your face in your hand. Katsuki says nothing, but he doesn't leave, and you hate that you don't mind.

Until he points towards a couple crossing the lawn and says, "Oi, that's the Duke from my fiancé's kingdom. Fucker tried to poison my dad for the throne—straightened him out real quick.”

"Why are you talking to me?" You snap like a cornered animal. Katsuki lifts an eyebrow.

"What? I can't have a goddamn conversation?"

"I—" your chest rises and falls with a reason to why he can't, but you can only come up with one—and you don't want to think about it.

"Listen. I don't like these things either, alright?" He huffs defensively, so defensively that you have to take a step back. "If I have the opportunity to get some fresh air, I'm gonna fuckin' take it."

You shrug, supposing it makes you one and the same. The wind blows, not harsh, but harsh enough to ruffle your gown, and make the gold jewelry decorating Katsuki's tunic jingle.

“So. I guess this is it, ain’t it?”

You sigh, “Katsuki, you know we—“

"Yeah yeah, that's all you fuckin' say," he growls bitterly, and you blink in a poor attempt to find where the animosity came from. His face twists in an ugly way as he sits his hands on his hips, nose scrunched to mockingly pitch his voice that doesn't sound like yours at all. "We can't, we shouldn't—"

"Because we shouldn't!" You nearly shout, and Katsuki jumps from how quickly you raise your voice. "Because—because if we get caught, we're fucked. And I can't go to sleep terrified that I'll wake up to an exposé tomorrow morning and get beheaded by the afternoon. So...please. Just stop."

Katsuki clicks his tongue.

"You don't love that asshole."

Your throat feels tight—much too tight to be comfortable, and your chest rises and falls with disbelief as you search for the words before you can talk again, eyes never dropping from the stars. You've had this conversation, fuck, you have it too often; often enough to know that he would say those exact words, and enough to know precisely what you'll say in response.

"I love him, Katsuki."

"No, no you fuckin' don't," the ash-blond chucks a laugh and it's nothing short of acrid, his words eating away at your skin more than you'd like them to. You sigh, resting your forearms on the railing too.

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Always gotta be so goddamn emotionally unavailable, huh?" He growls, glare set on the mountains presented in front of you. You feel his suit jacket hit your freezing shoulders, unaware of the cool temperatures until you feel the cloth brush against goosebumps. It’s your turn to laugh bitterly.

“Careful. People might think we’re getting married to each other.”

“One day you’ll let me fuckin’ live,” he grunts, and your eyes meet for the first time. His usual red is dyed a deep purple by the moonlight, their usual hardness traded for something much softer. “Can’t even give you a jacket when you’re shivering like a goddamn leaf in the wind.”

You give him a look of utter exhaustion because you’re tired—tired of all this running around and hiding, the secrecy. It eats at your insides like a caterpillar does a leaf, knowing that you go to sleep every night to a man who’ll barely touch you, but at the same time, feeling guilty that you don’t need nor want him to.

“Why are you here?”

Katsuki clicks his tongue. His warm body settles behind yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not close enough to feel him. “You looked lonely.”

“I thought my fiancé told you to get me?” You ask, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Katsuki rolls his eyes, his arms settling on both sides of yours.

“He did. But I didn’t refuse the damn request either.”

“You saw my loneliness all the way from the ballroom. What an eyesight,” you scoff. Katsuki’s eyes narrow, but it’s clear he’s fighting a grin because you’re a little shit who loves giving him a hard time. The ash-blond’s chest rises and falls, and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“You know what I mean.”

You snort, tilting your head to the right. You suppose you do.

“And I’m marrying a bitch,” he adds to his list of grievances, his hands finding yours to gently play with your fingers. You nod in agreement. A bitch she is.

“And...I’m really going to fuckin’ miss you.”

It might as well pass for nothing but a breath, eyes trained on your held hands. His chest suspends like he has more to say, but his teeth tear at the inside of his cheek before he can. “I—fuck, I get it, okay? I’m a selfish asshole—“

“This doesn’t have to do wit—“

“And I really, really need to get my fuckin’ priorities straight. I mean, they are, just not in the way they should be.”

“Hey,” you chastise, shaking his hands for his attention. “You can’t control who you love, okay?"

Katsuki grumbles at that but you refuse, turning around to look him in the eyes.

"And neither can I.”

You let go of his hands in favor of pulling him down via his cheeks and giving him a big fat kiss on the lips. It’s peckish and brief, but it’s sweet and gets your point across. It's comfortable.

“The hell was that for?” Katsuki asks once you pull away. Though you see him struggle to hide a grin, eyes squinting more than they should.

“Easy,” you say, stepping forwards (as if there’s any space for that), “You looked lonely.”

Katsuki snorts, dropping his head, “Bastard.”

“And I’m being married off to an asshole,” you lament, pulling his face so close to the point you’re sure the strain on his back has got to be anything but sexy. He accommodates anyways—Katsuki always has; and night seems to suspend along with his baited breath as he waits for the next line, eyes shining with a painful hope you’re about to confirm.

“And I’m really, really going to miss you,” you say, shaking your head at how utterly true that statement is. Fuck.

The vulnerability slowly fades from his eyes at that, and Katsuki hums, clammy hands finding their rightful place around your hips.

“You shouldn’t call him an asshole, you know,” he says, face inching so close you can smell the champagne on his breath. “He means well.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” you quip back, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki shrugs, and you don’t realize he’s backing you up until your back kisses the cool railing.

“Well. I can’t help but feel a little bad,” he says cheekily as he inches closer, “‘Cause I make you feel so good, don’t I, Princess? Last time I checked, better than he ever could.”

You scoff at his audacity though it’s all good-natured, eyes preferring the moon over his heated gaze as he turns you around to face the courtyard.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, redirecting your attention using a finger on your jaw, “Eyes on me, Princess. You look really fuckin’ pretty under the stars, y’know.”

You snort at the compliment, rolling your eyes.

“‘M serious. A fuckin’ goddess,” he growls, leaving wet kisses up the column of your neck. Your breath hitches as he reaches your sweet spot and sucks, and you’re swatting him away before he can leave a mark.

“I sai—“

“One last time, Princess,” he bargains lowly as his hot hands slide their way from your waist to your breasts, taking their sweet time. Katsuki hooks his chin on your shoulder. “Lemme—Can I make you feel good one last time?”

You’re nodding with a whimper before you can berate yourself for being so fucking easy, the thought of not being able to indulge yourself with this, with him, any longer tosses any and all resistance out the window.

“Good,” Katsuki hums, tweaking your nipples through the bodice. “‘M gonna pay you back for being so good to me, yeah? For puttin' up with all my shit."

You scoff, mouth dropping to tell him you weren't putting up with his shit, but then a warm hand lands on your thigh—somehow, he's found a way under your dress. The hand slides up inner thigh and you feel Katsuki's chest shudder against your back as he finally reaches where you need him most.

"K-Kats—"

"Shhh, you don't want them to hear us, do you?" He grunts, pulling your panties to the side. You shiver from the change in temperature, watching another Duke and Duchess of half-drunkenly stumble into their carriages for the night, before there's a crack of a whip and hooves beat towards the exit. It's only a reminder of how painfully exposed you two are—one glance towards the balcony and any onlooker would know exactly what's happening. You hate it.

You hate that you don't.

"Atta girl," Katsuki purrs, groaning as he inserts a finger. You shiver, the weight of his being practically trapping you against the railing. "Always so fuckin' tight. I swear that asshole never fucks you right."

Katsuki's never been an impatient man and fills you with a second finger awfully fast, chuckling when you bite into the meat of your palm to hold back a whimper. His hips start to grind against the puff of your dress and he groans as quietly as he can, carelessly shoving down the sleeve of his suit jacket to bite into your shoulder.

You let out a broken moan much too loud for this time of night and it prompts Katsuki's free hand to stuff an equal amount of fingers into your mouth. "Y'know, something tells me you wanna get caught. You want the whole world to know how much you fuckin' hate that bastard, huh?"

You choke as Katsuki slides in a third digit next to the second, the slap of his palm against your pussy becoming nothing but obscene as your slick accentuates the sound. His hips speed up against your ass and that's enough friction to have the ash-blond groaning, along with the spit that drips down his forearm.

"So dirty for me, Princess," his hips stutter when you push back, tongue laving over the bite mark you'll probably have to conceal in the morning. Asshole. "You wanna cum like this, don't you? You're gonna cum all over my fingers in front of the entire royal court. Dumb little girl, can't even keep her mouth shut to keep us from gettin' caught."

You jam your heel into the balcony concrete so hard you positive it cracks before you're coming all over Katsuki's fingers, nearly choking on the ones in your mouth as you release the loudest broken moan you have that night. Katsuki's hips stutter against you and you're positive he's filling his boxers from the airy moan that follows, and his hand goes limp in your mouth before it slides out completely.

Your chests balloon in unison, his body draped over yours, and as you two catch your breath under the moonlight, you can’t help but think how much you’re going to miss this.

"Run away with me."

"I—" he does this. He always does this. He makes you feel on top of the world, acting like everything's fine, and then he pulls this shit on you. You look everywhere but him, nearly scoffing in disbelief. "Katsuki—"

"C'mon, Princess," Katsuki scrambles to flip you by the waist until your back is flush against the railing again and he’s cradling both your hands in his semi-damp ones. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t like, and it makes your chest burn. "Across the sea, people are movin’ over there and I—I know someone there, okay? Someone we could stay with, maybe help us get back on our feet an-and I found a fuckin’ ferry guy to take us across, and I can even pay him a little extra, o-or you, or—"

"Katsuki," you give him a sad smile, squeezing his hands tight. There's hope, too much hope in his eyes and it's fucking blinding. "Running away? I—this is—we have an obligation, we can't jus—"

"It'll be fine," he insists, stepping forwards and squeezing you back twice as hard. You sigh."I—the two kingdoms can merge or whatever the fuck they wanna do and then we'll be—"

"Katsuki."

"I—fuck Princess, I don't beg but goddammit, I'll do whatever you fuckin' want, get on my knees, I ca—"

"You really want to know what I want?"

Katsuki freezes. It's the first time you've ever seen some semblance of emotion in him that isn't anger or lust, with carmine red irises swimming in unshed tears—and fuck, you hate the sight. You want to shoot yourself in the fucking foot for what you’re about to do, but it’s for the best. It always is.

"Love her."

Katsuki looks at you, and his face drops, chest shuddering.

"I can't."

You drop his hands in favor of holding his face, thumbing at the hot tears running as they fall. God, Katsuki’s pretty—too pretty for his own good and he doesn’t even know it. His unsteady hands find themselves massaging your ribs and your foreheads knock together. "You need to try. Love her as much as you love me, yeah?"

"'S fuckin' impossible," Katsuki says with a wet snort, shaking his head with eyebrows raised. You giggle, throat impossibly tight.

"Almost, then? For me."

Katsuki’s red eyes stare at you through the darkness. You have half a mind to look the other way, but you figure you owe him this if nothing else, and as he lovingly absorbs your being under the moonlight for the last time, you really wish you could take your words back.

"I'll...fuck. Fine. I'll try." Katsuki resigns with a shrug, shaking his head. You two sniffle in unison and you suppress the strange urge to pinch him. "'M not gonna try to get over you, though. Sorry, not sorry."

You roll your eyes at that but it's all good-natured, followed by a choke you struggle to hide as his arms coil around your waist, "Then I won't either."

A genuine grin spreads across his face, and it’s borderline giddy—and a stark contrast against the waterworks. "She finally fuckin' admits it."

"Figured it was about time," you give him a wobbly smile before your eyes flicker to his, red blurring from being so close. Selene looks upon both of you with a reminiscent sigh.

"I love you, Katsuki Bakugou."

Katsuki sniffs before he laughs; it's wet, and near bitter, and he pulls you so close your face nearly shoves into his chest. "Fuck. Fuck, you're an asshole, you know that?"

"This is when you say it back," you bargain, squishing his cheeks. Katsuki presses his forehead deeper into yours.

"I love you too, Asshole."

He speaks with a softness you've never heard and it's like a gunshot to the heart, and as his lips inch closer to yours as your hands slide to thumb at his ears. One last kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?

Until there's a whistle and the click of footsteps. You and Katsuki jump a mile apart.

"Oh, [Y/N]! You're still out here in the cold?" Your fiancé asks with a raised eyebrow, but it seems like that's only an afterthought as he turns to Katsuki to say, "Your wife’s found the alcohol."

"Great," the ash-blond groans, understanding the translation—your fiancé is piss drunk in the ballroom.

"I do recommend you take her home. She's making quite a mess of the eclairs. And her face."

Katsuki heads inside without giving you a second glance, and your fiancé gives him a solid pat on the way in before turning to you halfway through the doorway, "Are you coming inside, Darling?"

"In a moment," you say with a smile. Your hand never leaves the railing. "Just getting some fresh air."

"Alrighty, then. I'll be in the bedroom. Waiting~" he winks, and with that, he's spinning on his heel, and you're alone with the moon again.

You watch Katsuki guide his inebriated fiancé into the carriage lovingly, with a smile on his face that isn't quite the one he wears with you but close enough, whispering whatever pleases her at the time with a chaste kiss on the cheek. You feel comfort in knowing that he has someone to love and someone to be loved by. He doesn't look your way—not once.

It's not until they drive away that you realize you still have his suit jacket draped over your shoulders. You don't doubt he did that on purpose, either.

Asshole.

[mcheang]

How about one where Marinette gives up on her class, deciding to get holders from other classes

So she decides to give Aurore the Fox, prompting Lila to lie about the fox.

Next akuma is a mind control akuma, and oh no! Aurore is one of the controlled! Well, she was gonna give the turtle to Mireille but maybe she can be the Fox just this once

And then the Akuma after that, Fox Aurore and Turtle Mireille

Basically lots of quick and random akuma attacks make it hard for Lila to keep up her lies

Switch

A Pre-Miracle Queen outline that my mind drove me to

Marinette decides that having her hero allies be classmates under Lila’s spell is a bad idea.

Good thing she is on the class president committee and knows the other class presidents are smart enough to see through Lila’s lies (basically they weren’t pleased with Lila’s flaky absences from class participation. And also because the weather girls know their fair share of celebrities)

First replacement: Aurore as Vixen

The battle was a success but Chat questioned why Rena was replaced.

Ladybug: she can’t tell truth from lies. A bad trait for any hero, let alone one wielding the kwami of illusion

Alya was heartbroken but couldn’t catch Ladybug in time to interview her.

While writing her post on Vixen, Alya asked Lila if she knew what Rena’s flaw was.

Lila: oh that’s easy. Rena and Carapace are so a couple but that just hinders them in a fight. Their first priorities were on each other, not Hawkmoth.

Alya: oh...

So this was about the Scarlet Moth incident. Oh no, then Nino is being replaced too?

Second replacement: Mireille as Kit (she knows she is a substitute so she wanted her name to show she wasn’t a real hero yet)

Aurore had been hit by an akuma, luckily her vice class président had escaped.

Kit’s appearance had Alya confused.

Lila: oh, that’s because Vixen was pregnant. Shocker, I know. Even Ladybug was speechless. But obviously she can’t be a hero in her condition.

Except then why did Vixen return alongside the new heroine, Emerald Shell?

Lila: the pregnancy test results were a dud

Nino was already warned by Alya. While not happy, he was remarkably chill about the new girl.

Honeybee makes her appearance

Lila: ok, how are you surprised Chloé was replaced?

Chloé threw a major tantrum.

Equestria replaces Pegasus

Lila: Ladybug is promoting female power

Max: that doesn’t sound right. She’s unbalancing her team genders.

Not to mention, Max figured he would have been told about why he was being replaced if that was the case. Or maybe he was a one-time hero? Except Party Crasher refuted that theory.

Tarzan replaces Monkey King

Lila: that’s Ladybug’s crush.

Everyone knows that Ladybug prefers to be professional rather than mix personal with business (Aspik was a mistake) so this raised more than a few eyebrows.

Maybe it was that LadyNoir was possibly sunken with that lie, but Alya was determined to ask Ladybug herself.

The heroine had been avoiding her for a while now, leaving her blog posts to have only Lila’s statement for evidence.

It shouldn’t be too hard, except now the Teachers were serious about keeping students safe. Meaning they were anticipating Alya to run to the fight and were determined to stop her.

And apparently Lila didn’t want to call in any favours with Ladybug for an interview because friendships aren’t about favors.

Hence, Alya kept lurking around the park, waiting for the inevitable return of Mr Pigeon.

As has become tradition, after Mr Pigeon is defeated, Mr Ramier treats the heroes to ice cream and they sit down for a while.

But this time, Alya interrupted their peaceful snack.

Alya: Ladybug, Chat Noir, would you please grant me an interview

Ladybug stood up, “Sorry, Alya. But I barely have a minute left. Thanks for the ice cream, Mr Ramier. Bug out!”

Chat had just gobbled his in two bites when Alya called out again, desperation leaking out of her. “Just one question!”

Ladybug stilled, but finally turned around. Her eyes were cold sapphires. “One. I don’t have time right now.”

Be quick about it.

Alya gulped. There were so many questions she wanted to ask about the new heroes, why they were chosen. But if she had to choose one question, Alya blurted out without thinking. “Are you really Lila’s best friend?”

That was her question? Alya wanted to smack herself. That was old news. She should have asked why Ladybug took so long to replace Queen Bee.

“No.”

Alya stared at Ladybug, having lost her focus in her self-reproach.

“What?”

But Ladybug had already zipped away.

Chat coughed. “Lovely to see you again, Alya. Have a good day, Mr Ramier.” And he quickly made his escape too.

Mr Ramier looked at the Ladyblogger with pity. “Do you want some ice cream?”

Alya burst into tears. She had paid for Lila’s ice cream. Because of her tonsil surgery. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? Lila had been lying all this time.

At the moment, Alya could care less about why the old heroes were replaced. That was their affair. But now she understood why she had been replaced. Not because of her relationship with Nino, but because she believed lies about Ladybug without even checking with her. What a gullible fool she had been.

As Mr Ramier tried his best to cheer her up, and keep a sharp eye out for akumas, the tale came out. How she had ruined her credibility and blindly believed a liar despite her own best friend warning her.

Mr Ramier: why didn’t you believe Marinette?

Alya: because I thought she was jealous of Lila. They like the same boy.

Mr Ramier frowned. “Is Marinette the kind of girl to hate a supposedly sweet girl just because they share a crush?”

Alya paused. True, Marinette had issues with Chloé and Kagami because of their personalities but Aurore also had a crush on Adrien and the girls got along fine.

Alya: no, she isn’t. What kind of a friend, am I?

Mr Ramier: a human friend. Miss Cesaire, if I may give you some advice, you made mistakes yes. Everyone does. What matters is what you choose to do afterwards. And to do better next time.

Alya: so...I should apologize?

Mr Ramier nodded patiently. “Yes. To your friend, to Ladybug, and if I may say so, to your followers.”

Alya: what should I do about Lila?

Mr Ramier: what do you think you should do?

Alya bit her lip. “I’ll expose her. But not as badly as I would like, because she’ll just end up as an akuma.”

Mr Ramier nodded and stood, his pigeons flying off. “I wish you luck, Miss Cesaire.”

That night, Alya finally did her ground research on Lila. Needless to say, she was horrified at what she had learned.

The next morning, everyone was whispering about the newest post on the Ladyblog. “The truth about Lila Rossi.”

Not only did it feature Ladybug’s statement and Alya’s apologies, but there were links to warnings about Lila from her old classmates.

Lila was absent, hiding from the disgust of the school, but also facing an angry mother. Alya was persistent in getting Mrs Rossi’s attention. It took a while to convince the ignoramus that she was not an akuma and yes, her daughter is a lying bully.

Alya gave Mrs Rossi a heads up because with Lila now exposed, questions about her leave of absence will be raised. Oh, and she needed to keep an eye out for akumas.

Hawkmoth certainly would have loved to target Lila, but Alya was on lookout. She caught the akuma in a butterfly net launcher 10 minutes before the school bell rang. Now she just needs to deliver this to Ladybug. Though maybe they should just hold on to it. I mean if Hawkmoth can’t create more than one akuma, maybe purifying this one was a bad idea.

Ladybug agreed to wait until Lila was dealt with. She commended Alya for finally opening her eyes. But sadly Rena won’t be returning.

Alya accepted that. She wasn’t ready. It would take time, but she would recover.

The butterfly was kept under guard until Mayura finally sent a sentimonster after it.

[okay-j-hannah]

Devout Hands & Rubied Apples

The Lord of the Rings : Fic

Faramir x Reader

Word Count: 3241

Warnings: Man I’ve always loved Faramir but holy frick I think he’d be such a loyal and caring husband 😭 I love wingman Boromir too 

Request: “I’d love to request a Fic with Faramir where he and the reader (who was also apart of the fellowship) spend Aragorn’s coronation and the party that takes place after together. He’d slowly be building up the courage to confess how he feels while Boromir tries to be a good wingman. At the same time, Merry and Pippin are scheming ways to get them together. Just lots of fluff involving dancing, drinking, and cute interactions :)” @whitewolvesandwitches​

A/N:​ In light of the Ring being destroyed, the fellowship find themselves in need of a new task. One appointed by Boromir to aide his brother in winning over the heart of their healer and friend

(Y/N) took it upon herself to assist in the infirmary as much as she could. After leaving the battlements relatively unscathed, ensuring the remnants of her fellowship were all right, she turned her attentions towards the wounded.

Upon entering the rows of stretchers enveloping the interior of Minas Tirith, she was quick to notice her companion Boromir. Strong and steady, the warrior was knelt over a makeshift cot wielding a man of similar fair hair.

“Boromir,” she muttered, resting a hand along his shoulders, “He will recover.”

The older man reached to touch her hand behind him, “I know. How could he not with you watching over him? You saved my life against the Uruk-hai, and you will save his life against my father’s poor judgement.”

(Y/N) frowned at the memory of being told the Steward had made Faramir’s condition worse even after sending him to his death at Osgiliath.

“I am flattered, but I’m sure he draws strength from your constant visits.”

“I would beg to differ,” the man she saw as a brother stated. He drew another stool closer as she took a seat to stay. “He is just as comforted by you as he is by me.”

(Y/N) moved a hand to feel the sickly brothers forehead. When she moved it towards his cheek, there was the smallest of movements as he nuzzled her palm in his sleep.

Boromir rested his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth with both his hands. His knowing eyes flickered to (Y/N)’s face, wondering if she’d have a reaction.

“What are you looking at with such a smile?”

“Oh, simply pondering your verdict.”

(Y/N) grinned back, “His fevers broken. It won’t be long before he’ll be walking about.” She let her hand linger perhaps too long on the scruff of Faramir’s cheek, for Boromir was clearing his throat and standing to leave.

“I must get back to the front. Aragorn is holding a council for his coming coronation.”

“Then get at it, Steward.”

Boromir flashed a grin, taking a light bow, “As you wish, Healer (Y/N). Keep my brother alive for me, will you?” He turned on his heel, trying to hide that smile that almost gave him away.

And watch over Faramir, (Y/N) did. Though attending to other duties with the quickly recovering survivors, she spent every sparing moment at his bedside. With him out of immediate danger, Faramir was moved to his own chambers, a soft pillow beneath his head and plenty of books for (Y/N) to choose from.

She became accustomed to a schedule of attending the infirmary then grabbing a tray of food and making way for Faramir’s room. She’d share a meal with him, trying to keep him awake longer and longer each day before he fell into another unconscious stupor.

When he did, she simply picked up the nearest book and read passages from it, sometimes saying them aloud to him. She found peace in those moments alone by his bedside. Chaos was attempting to be reined in by Aragorn, Boromir, and Eomer – the new lords of Middle Earth. And the sanctuary of Faramir’s chambers was always sought after a long day.

Though she was never far from boisterous visitors.

“Evening, (Y/N),” came the cheery voices of Merry and Pippin. “How are you?”

“Perfectly content,” she mused, placing a book marker on her current page, “What can I do for you?”

Merry put his hands behind his back, taking slow steps to Faramir’s bedside, “We were simply wondering when the last time you saw the light of day was.”

She laughed, curiosity peaked, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“By our reckoning,” Pippin continued, at the foot of the bed, “You’ve done nothing but move between the infirmary, kitchens, and this room every day. You’ve done hardly anything else since the war.”

“We,” Merry gestured between himself and Pippin, “Are here to rescue you.”

(Y/N) sighed a smile, “I told you I am perfectly content sitting here. But thank you for showing such concern.” She had an impish tone to her words, “How are you healing, Merry?”

“Don’t you change the subject,” the hobbit retorted, “There is to be a party after Aragorn’s coronation, and you’ll have no one to see if you don’t leave this room to meet them.”

Pippin flickered his gaze between the bed and (Y/N)’s puzzled expression, but he added quickly, “There are many soldiers dying to meet the one that healed them after the field.”

She couldn’t see how Merry stamped on Pippin’s large foot. They weren’t supposed to encourage meeting other men of the field.

“You know I’ve got plenty of friends that’ll be there.” She thought of the fellowship and how joyous their reunion had been when the Ring was destroyed. “And I don’t much fancy being sought after by a handful of injured soldiers.”

“And why not?” came Faramir’s quiet voice from the bed covers, “Surely these soldiers have won the honor to seek your hand.”

“Oh, Faramir!” she said, standing to reach his forehead, “How are you feeling? You slept far longer this time.”

The young captain, though healed of his injuries, was still pale and weak from weeks stuck in a bed. “I’m all right. Your book reading keeps me well asleep.” He lingered his weary blue eyes on her expression, not wishing to do anything that would make her retract her hand from his face.

She was oblivious to how he was looking at her.

“Well, aren’t you going to answer his question?”

Merry stamped on his companions foot again.

“Oh, well…” (Y/N) seemed a bit flustered by the question, “I’ve never been one for courting, especially by strangers.” She moved her hands back into her lap and Faramir felt his brows slant in longing.

Merry and Pippin flipped their gazes between the two, peculiar smiles on their faces. Similar to the one that Boromir usually bore when he visited.

“What are you up to?” She questioned, “There is more than simply getting me out of this room.”

“You got us,” Merry resigned in mock defeat, “We need to get you out for a particular reason.”

“We need to speak to Faramir,” Pippin said in a rush, unable to conceal his excitement. A swift smack from his friend made him yell out, “Ow! What was that for?”

Merry sighed, “You have no tact, Pippin. Must be a Tookish trait.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh at her friends banter. The lovely sound made Faramir return his tired gaze to her.

“You could have just said so,” she said. “I have made promises to set up the festivities with Eowyn. Perhaps I’ll seek her out and start early.”

And once she had left, the hobbits were quick to let out the breaths they had been holding. Faramir, though still exhausted from his lack of energy, laughed at them. “I have a feeling Boromir has something to do with this.”

And speak of the man, Boromir inched his way into the room, looking around him as if to see if someone had spotted him yet. “Are we alone?”

“Completely,” Merry muttered, “(Y/N)’s off to find Eowyn.”

“Don’t worry, Faramir,” Pippin consoled his friend, “We’ve been putting in the good word for you the entire time you were ill.”

The poor man appeared entirely bewildered, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, “Good word?”

“Listen to me, brother,” Boromir said, a kind of light in his eyes. “The opportunity is almost ripe for the taking. The coronation is in just a few days, and that will be when you strike.”

“Strike?”

“We’ll all be there if you need us,” Merry continued, “We’ve just got to get you up and about. You still look like death.” Him and Boromir offered to help Faramir into a sitting position.

Such small a movement and it had Faramir straining, “I still don’t understand.”

“(Y/N)!” Boromir stated with such excitement, “Now is the time to confess your feelings for her.”

That woke him up real quick. “(Y/N)? Have you three been scheming behind my back?”

“Only because you were on your deathbed,” Pippin shrugged.

Faramir ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath, “I couldn’t possibly… how would I… like (Y/N) would actually…”

“Relax, Faramir,” Boromir smirked, “I don’t believe you have anything to worry about.”

“You should have seen her,” Merry sucked in his lips in exuberance. “She paid such special attention to you out of all the survivors.”

“Which brings us to why you have to get up, Faramir,” Pippin stated, “There’s a lineup of soldiers talking of charming (Y/N) at the coronation. You have to be better by then to take them on!”

Boromir raised a hand, seeing the slight panic entering his brothers face, “There’s no need to pick a fight with every man that comes her way. Because I am sure (Y/N) will pick you regardless.”

“You’re sure?” Faramir asked, almost breathless in his growing anxiety. “How could you possibly be sure?”

“You were not awake,” Boromir had a wicked grin, “She clearly has feelings for you. She is simply not as vocal about them.”

Merry urged him on, “I don’t see (Y/N) staying in any of her other injured soldiers rooms.”

~~

The coronation was a celebration beyond anyone’s wildest imaginings. Aragorn was crowned King Elessar amongst a flurry of pale petals and ecstatic subjects. Friends and acquaintances gathered from every stretch of the map, offering bows of good faith and trust.

(Y/N) stood diligently beside those members of the fellowship she cherished most. Boromir clapped boisterously, whistling loudly above the cheers. It made (Y/N) smile.

Amongst the chaos, Boromir leaned around to get a better look, grasping someone near him and trading places. This new person bumped right into (Y/N), stumbling and finding that it was Faramir his brother had traded places with.

He gave her a sweet, apologetic smile, as if to say, “My brother is a menace.”

She blushed back, taking a step away from brushing shoulders with him only to discover Legolas standing steadfastly beside her. She caught a questioning, slightly smug, look on his face before retreating back to being shoulder to shoulder with Faramir.

She couldn’t possibly have noticed the minute glance the elf gave to Boromir over their heads.

And the newly made King Elessar came walking among his subjects, the fair lady Arwen on his arm. He peered at her delicate, radiant face with such devotion that it made (Y/N) blush. She could feel heat radiating off Faramir��s body against her shoulder.

She sneaked a glance and caught him staring at her, even as the King and his Queen trailed past. Faramir couldn’t seem to look away and in an attempt to appear normal, started clapping along with the crowd. (Y/N) couldn’t put her finger on it, but the expression on his face reminded her of the look on Aragorn’s only moments before.

When he looked upon his queen.

The festivities that followed were as celebratory and raucous as you’d believe, especially with friends such as Boromir and Gimli around.

(Y/N) had quietly followed Faramir and Legolas into the throne room, which had been decked especially for the occasion. A large feast surrounded them, fiddlers and minstrels in the corner, and grand chandeliers of candles above.

She found that within an instant Legolas had mumbled an excuse to leave, putting her and Faramir alone and at the edge of the party. She kept her hands folded and in front of her, a shawl gracing her back and elbows. A circlet of golden leaves and rubied apples surrounded her head, an extravagance that Eowyn insisted upon.

“Healers,” she had said. “You never do anything for yourselves.” And she proceeded to dress her friend in fine white gold and cornsilk trimmings.

It was Faramir that attempted speech first, “The crown you wear, I recognize it.” He had to lean forward slightly to be heard over the feast. “It is quite beautiful.”

(Y/N) hoped the dimness of the candles hid the crimson on her cheeks, “Thank you. Eowyn took it upon herself to dress me. She says infirmary aprons are not acceptable.”

Faramir laughed, “It suits your complexion.”

She swallowed hard; there was no way her cheeks were as red as those rubied apples. In a moment of silence she straightened the circlet nervously. Faramir appeared to notice as he opened his mouth to speak.

But (Y/N) got there first, “Eowyn told me of the summer wine.” She gestured to a table across the hall, “I simply must try some.” And she vanished in a flurry.

It was incredible how quickly his companions surrounded his shoulders.

“That could have gone better,” Boromir stated grimly, clapping his brothers arm. “I approve of the compliment though.”

“How could you possibly hear us over this crowd?”

Merry pulled himself onto a table of desserts, Pippin not far behind with a fruit pie in hand. “You’ve got her all in a tither already.”

“I’m scaring her,” Faramir frowned, trying to glimpse her golden crowned head amongst the wine glasses.

“You’re flustering her, brother, there’s a difference.” Boromir stroked his scruff, observing the surroundings. “We’re going to have to evade her defenses.”

Pippin popped a blueberry, “Back to the ways of the Green Dragon.” The hobbits shared a gleeful glance, skittering off towards the minstrels.

“What are you planning?” Faramir fretted, not wishing to frighten (Y/N) further.

Boromir waved an impatient hand, apparently deep in strategic thought, “It was not my idea. Though a clever one.”

“Must you be so vague.”

The line of fiddlers shifted in their seats, a new merriment in how they held their bows. Their hobbit friends trailed from them, grasping mugs of ale and finding the tallest table they could stand upon.

A quick, rousing tune filled the air and Faramir recognized it immediately as a sort of line dance. One that included trading partners and flying feet.

“Dancing is not…”

“It is exactly how we’ll sneak you into (Y/N)’s arms.” Boromir grasped his brothers shoulders and shoved him towards the forming circle of people. Merry and Pippin were on their stage, beginning a drinking song of the Shire.

He could already see a pale faced Eowyn greeting (Y/N) and gesturing towards the center of the room.

“Excellent,” he muttered, much to Faramir’s anxiety. “Hold her swift and don’t let go.”

A billow of fabric and laughs consumed Faramir, quickly caught by a fellow Gondorian. He looked at her petite frame surprisingly but recognized her friendly face. They danced a few paces, him memorizing the moves before passing her along – this new partner an acquaintance from Rohan.

Clapping and cheering surrounded them, the hobbits hyping the crowd with bellowing lyrics and chugs of ale. Faramir felt himself loosen as he grinned and tapped toes with different partners. He recognized many friends and shared a few laughs, though an old arrow wound flared in his leg.

He spun and found himself in front of (Y/N) – she was flushed from the dancing, but a delighted twinkle was in her eyes. He continued to smile brighter, taking her hand and twirling her as the dance instructed.

A laugh came from her strawberry rouged lips and he relished the noise, less afraid to grasp her waist as they danced about the hall. When the time came for him to pass her to the next soldier, he found himself simply trading places with him.

(Y/N) peered at him with a comical gaze, “That is cheating.”

Faramir shrugged, taking the liberty to twirl her again, “I simply could not let you go.”

This time she did not mind the butterflies in her stomach, choosing to grin back at him instead of running away. They danced like that, Faramir continuing to jump places with the soldiers so she only partnered with him, until the music died away with a flourish.

Everyone clapped, (Y/N) and Faramir included, neither seeming able to remove their eyes from the other.

“Your shawl,” he pointed out. It had fallen on one side and dangled from one arm onto the floor. (Y/N) twirled to grab the end, but Faramir lightly grabbed her shoulders, stopping her, “Allow me.”

He stood behind her, draping the fallen end around her elbow, smoothly linking their arms together as he did so.

She gave him a suspicious brow, though smiled.

“Care for a drink?” And he led her towards the refreshments arm in arm.

Behind them was a rally of stunned cheers from a certain fellowship as they watched the motion.

“Was the summer wine to your liking?” Faramir continued, not wanting the momentum of his confidence to falter.

(Y/N) was still marveling at the smoothness of Faramir’s actions, allowing him the grace of keeping her arm delicately through his. “It was far too sweet. A pity.”

He charmed her, “Perhaps the elven made wine, then? I can attest to its richness – I’m sure you’ll prefer it.”

She nodded, finding herself intrigued by the bubbling drink, golden in the candlelight. It was crisp and tangy on the tongue, a look of delight on her face as she smacked her lips. Faramir watched her, releasing her arm to find a glass for himself.

“It is delicious.”

He grinned, “I’m glad.” And his gaze lingered as she enjoyed her drink. It lingered so much that (Y/N) chose to stare at the bubbles in her hand then at that look. She was correct in believing it reminded her of the King and Queen.

It was a look of devotion.

“Earlier you told me you recognized my crown,” she spoke towards her toes, “What do you recognize it from?”

He settled his wine glass on a nearby table, “It’s Gondorian made – it comes from our family stores.”

(Y/N) grimaced, “Oh, I told Eowyn not to go snooping. I didn’t realize she took it.”

“It is no trouble,” Faramir stated lightly, “It had belonged to my mother.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, “I didn’t realize…” she immediately went to take it off, holding the circlet with a newfound gentleness. “Forgive me.”

“There is no need to return it now.”

She skewed her brow in apology, “This is far too precious an object, I should not be wearing it.” She offered it to Faramir, “Your mother was an honorable woman.”

Faramir held the golden crown with sincerity, gazing at the worn leaves welded upon it. He smiled sweetly, turning to (Y/N) and placing the circlet once more on her head. “My mother would be glad it was worn by someone as strong as her.”

He brushed her hair away, keeping his hands on either side of her face. “There. Beautiful.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth but found herself with no words to say. This time she returned his devoted stare.

“I have found myself growing very fond of you, (Y/N),” he whispered, “It would be shameful to leave this night with your face so apologetic.”

In an instant she was clear of the emotion – it was replaced with mingling shock and another delightful light in her eyes.

“The shame would only be my own; for my own misguided affections – I thought your fondness was only in gratitude for my healing.” That’s when he began to smile, “Then perhaps for the tolerance of your brother.”

He laughed, adoration plain in his features, “Perhaps I do feel those things. But first and foremost has always been for your heart.”

“My heart has always been open to you, Faramir.”

~~~

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[chaozsilhouette]

Moonlit Musings

The night is such a perfect time to face one’s darkest truths. Shrouded in the moon’s light what can one do but admit to their flaws. It can be a time of rejuvenation and rebirth, only if you let it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

It was a quiet night.

The full moon hung high in the heavens accompanied by millions of stars. Not a cloud to be seen, an ideal night for passions to run wild. Normally people would be taking out their telescopes or arranging romantic picnics.

Sadly, nights like these only filled Sun Wukong with dread. It was a night like this when he was finally able to return after the Journey. That was the night he learned he had lost a precious treasure.

When he returned, he expected to be greeted by his subjects until Macaque showed himself. He expected to be strangled as the pale furred monkie admonished him for his recklessness. He expected to watch as fury transformed into tearful joy as they embraced one another for the first time in over five hundred years.

But that wasn’t what happened.

The moment he set foot back onto Flower Fruit Mountain, he sensed something was very wrong. Like his previous return trips, his subjects greeted him with loud celebrations. The new mothers showed off their infants. The young ones wasted no time climbing all over him, taking in the scent of their king.

The immortal elders, however, looked concerned.

That was when he realized Macaque’s scent on the mountain was far too faint. Even the magical signature of his clones no longer felt fresh.

Macaque was nowhere to be found. The monkeys reported Macaque had returned a few years after he stopped by the mountain earlier in the Journey but not as his usual self. He didn’t respond to any of their questions. He didn’t even take time to check in on the infants. He didn’t say a word.

He just entered the mansion, but no one saw him leave.

Entering the mansion, Wukong dashed to their room desperate for answers. Opening the doors, he saw the room was horribly empty, sure all of his belonging were exactly as he remembered them, but all of Macaque’s stuff was gone. Macaque’s closet was empty and all his books had vanished. Despite his desperate hopes, there wasn’t any signs of a struggle or hidden messages to be found.

Macaque left of his own free will, but why?

He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the bed they shared so many nights together. Every time he dared, he awoke expect to be greeted with the comforting warmth of familiar presence, instead he opened his eyes to a cold emptiness.

The lack of answers broke his heart, but he didn’t have time to start tearing the landscape apart trying to find him. Now that he was back for good, he had so many responsibilities to catch up on. He was determined to be a good king for his subjects and that meant ughthinking things through. Plus, he wanted to spend as much time with his master and brothers as possible.

Then there was the concerning fact all his previous allies had severed their alliance with him.

Apparently after all the fuss with the Demon Bull King, word had spread that Wukong broke their alliance by disrespecting protocol and attacking the royal family. Plus, his new position as a defender of humanity annoyed more than a few respectable demons. Combined with the sheer number of powerful demons he killed on the Journey cemented the idea that having an alliance with him would only end poorly.

He was banned from court meetings and the other kings in the surrounding areas wanted nothing to do with him. The chaotic nature of his past had finally caught up to him and in the worst possible way.

He was still recognized as the Monkey King of the Sun Court but was effectively blacklisted. No one wanted to mess with him, but they also didn’t want to interact with him. Not good for his mental health to say the least.

Simians are naturally social creatures. Wukong was used to constantly being around other people and learning new things. His time imprisoned was not kind. His first year of freedom had him constantly climbing over his brothers and master just to reassure himself that this was real.

And now that he couldn’t reconnect with old faces unless it was through a battle to the death…It forced him to delve into old memories. Memories that while sweet only made the emptiness more pronounced.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Sun Wukong smiled as he watched Macaque’s reaction.

The six-eared monkie was furiously pinching the bridge between his eyebrows after he shattered a boulder with a careless headbutt as though it would make his life mercifully easier. “You’ll have to explain it to me again. What did you mean by ‘no longer under Yama’s jurisdiction’?”

“Exactly what I said. I was napping. Having some time to myself, when out of nowhere some idiots tried to take my soul to the afterlife.” Wukong explained as though having entities of death rip out your soul to drag it to the underworld was no big deal.

“Bet you weren’t happy.” Macaque couldn’t help but smirk at the flippant tone. He just made it so difficult to stay mad.

“Not in the slightest. I barged my way to the top brass, bunch of cowards called the Ten Kings (totally undeserved titles by the way) and demanded what the fuck was going on.” He was still ticked off even if the payoff was sweet. Seriously! Did immortality mean nothing to these cowards? They couldn’t even play it off as him dying in battle. He was in the peak of his youth! “Can you believe they tried to play it off as a misunderstanding? Should have smacked the loudmouth when I was there.”

“So, through a series of ridiculous events, you erased your name from the records of the dead.” Macaque could easily piece together the rest from there. No matter how ridiculous the odds. He learned never to bet against his friend when a problem could be handled with brute strength or intimidation. If it didn’t look like such an answer was possible, clearly, they hadn’t experienced the force of a determined Wukong. Something about facing a ticked off monkie of practically infinite strength and invulnerability left harden conquerors pissing themselves.

It was hilarious.

“Not just mine. In my infinite wisdom, I erased the names of several of the monkey inhabitants of esteemed Flower Fruit Mountain, including yours.” Wukong playfully booped Macaque’s nose.

Turning away to hide a light blush, Macaque scoffed to cover his embarrassing response. “Typical. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you doing something insane.”

“I know. I’m just that awesome.”

“So what? Are we now double immortal?” That was the question wasn’t it. Due to their master’s instructions, they were immortal and ageless, so what exactly would this give them? He didn’t feel any different. He couldn’t sense any new powers or changes in his instincts.

His counterpart, however, had other things on his mind. “Who cares. All I know is that those idiots have no control over our souls anymore.” And with that the King took his rightful place across Macaque’s lap as the other returned to his scrolls.

Wukong instead took the time to examine his friend, who finally gained enough confidence to fully drop his glamour and embrace his true appearance.

He still couldn’t believe Macaque actually had six ears. The weird part was how natural they looked, almost as if seeing him with only two was bizarre. The coolest part was how each pair softly glowed a different color. Blue. Purple. Red. Sometimes Wukong would just stare at them, imagining that he could see glittering stars emanating from that glow.

Suddenly those magnificent ears twitched. Macaque didn’t bother looking up from the bamboo scroll. “A trespasser...multiple, boar and vulture demon. Another hunting party”.

“Again. Ugh. Don’t these idiots ever give up!” Don’t get him wrong, Wukong loved a good fight. What better way to prove how superior you are to others than to steal what’s most precious to them? But even he was starting to grow bored with the sheer number of hunters that thought kidnapping his subjects was a quick cash grab.

After the fifth army he returned in pieces to the surrounding upstart lords, you’d think they’d take a hint.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only powerhouse on the mountain. “I haven’t tasted blood in a while. Why don’t I defend the kingdom while your highness enjoys a show?” Macaque set aside his reading material, eyes glittering with bloodlust.

Wukong returned the smirk with one of his own. “I’m always up for a good thrashing. One request: make it glorious.”

“Don’t I always.” Macaque joked as he retrieved his spear from his own shadow.

Wukong summoned his cloud and claimed a good vantage point. Once again, he marveled at his friend’s hearing. Judging by the distance it would have been at least three hours before he would have detected their presence.

Kicking back, he transformed some hair into a fruit platter and waited for the screams.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

To this day, Wukong knew Macaque was alive. Thanks to his efforts combined with the intense training, the monkie was double immortal. Besides, that monkkie was way too stubborn to die. He would survive purely on spite if he had to.

Macaque left, but why?

While he may have effectively isolated himself, that didn’t mean he didn’t hear about the other courts. A few centuries ago, he heard rumors about the formation of a new court by someone under the title of the Macaque King. Supposedly they were a powerful monkie who knew way more than he had the right to. For a brief moment, Wukong dared to hope it was his old friend, but it didn’t last. The few recounts he caught described him with black fur. Besides, he knew how much Macaque hated the title of King. Even when Wukong offered him the position as co-ruler of his kingdom, the pale monkie adamantly refused.

Still, he was curious.

For a few weeks he could have sworn he detected a familiar scent hiding underneath Mk’s. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few of the immortal monkeys questioned him on the mango infused scent and what his plans were. It was almost too much to take in.

To think he returned to teach his student instead of showing his face. It hurt just to think about it. He chose to ignore the beckoning scent until it became impossible to ignore MK’s leap in progress. Then it just vanished like it hadn’t been testing his patience. Like it hadn’t brought him to the brink of shaking the kid upside down until he confessed where his old friend was hiding. The kid probably grew wise, or someone told him to change his bathing habits, and by the next training session it was all but gone.

Dragging his hand down his face, Wukong tried to reevaluate his thoughts.

Getting mad at the kid wasn’t going to solve anything. He knew he hadn’t been the most attentive master. Hell, the whole hammer exercise at its core was a desperate attempt to remove a painful reminder of better times. His master would be disappointed in how he was running away from his problems, but would encourage him to take the steps to be better. Zhu Bajie would be a sarcastic little shit, trying to get him riled up so the monkie would prove him wrong. Sha Wujing would sit him down and wouldn’t let him leave until they talked everything through.

He had to make things right with the kid. He deserved a better master. And this New Years he was gonna get one.

He spoke, praying the winds would carry his voice to his Warrior.

“Macaque. I know it’s been a while, but…I-I want to talk. I know you’re out there, somewhere I can’t reach. I miss sparring with you. I miss lazy days napping in the shade by your side. I miss defending the mountain as we held contests to see who could take out the most trespassers before their common sense kicked in. I miss you. Please come home.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The moon was high in the sky. Stars danced in the heavens as the faintest hints of vibrations pulsed through the concrete from the late-night dance clubs. MK lay awake, his mind struggling to make sense of it all.

Ever since Macaque disappeared in order to remain undetected, he kept thinking about his relationship with the Monkey King. Sure, he was being trained and he was definitely making progress. The monkie was still on his case for supposedly cheating on him with another mentor. Nothing MK said or did could make the monkie think otherwise. Thankfully, he was no longer shooting him suspicious glares, but the underlying tension remained.

The sad truth is they just weren’t that close.

He would have expected to learn more about the Monkey King on a personal and emotional level, but he just couldn’t get past that wall. Their training sessions felt more like just the Monkey King arranged just to get it over with. There was no passion at all.

Okay, perhaps that last bit was an exaggeration.

When you peered past the arrogance and pride, you found one socially awkward monkie. It was similar to Red Son the more he thought about it, both seemed to find it difficult to talk to or relate to others in a friendly setting. Sure, Monkey King projected a friendly demeanor and called him “bud”, but if he didn’t know any better he could have sworn the monkie was afraid to take that final step.

The last few sessions had taken a bit of a turn in a positive direction as Sandy would say. Maybe Monkey King decided it was time to make a change? Maybe this was all a trick so MK would lower his guard and reveal Macaque’s identity? Maybe he was just tired and should have conked out an hour ago?

Maybe.

Reality was so different from the legends. When Tang first introduced him to the Monkey stories, he was hooked. He loved listening to the tales of the infamous trickster that flipped off every major religious figure with unbridled confidence. Meeting the Great Sage in the flesh was like a dream come true until he was exposed to the King’s less pleasant tendencies.

Mk couldn’t help but wonder just how much confidence the Monkey King had in his training skills. Did he ever train someone before? Could MK talk to someone about this without appearing even more ungrateful than he already looked? Why didn’t he stop Red Son from unsealing his father when he was there? Why didn’t he simply seal the entire family when they were reunited? Why did the five times immortal sage decide that now he needed to train a disciple? Was Monkey King not telling him something important?

He had so many questions and not even the foggiest idea of where to start looking. Or perhaps he did?

The truth was he missed Macaque. The dark-furred monkie may have only taught him for a month, but the progress he made and the level of care he was exposed to made him feel as though he had finally unlocked the ability to fly.

He missed the regular grooming. He missed learning about the demon community. He missed learning new ways to mess with Red Son through appropriate court manners.

Watching the fire user freeze up at the term “honorable prince of the Iron Bull Court” just made him laugh, when his hair combusted it really matched his face. Now that he thought about it, were those horns starting to peek out of his forehead? And maybe the slightest hint of a tufted tail swiping the bottom of his coat? Seeing the demon frantically compose himself was a treat he didn’t know he needed. He still had the video saved as one of his favorites, didn’t hurt that Mei caught it at the perfect angle.

Oh yeah, he missed that.

With any luck, New Years would be the start of something better.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On an island that remained surrounded by unquenchable storms, a single black-furred monkie sat cross-legged in a secluded part attached to the palace. All around him fruit trees and bushes bore a hefty bounty releasing an intoxicating scent of life.

Ears twitched.

Macaque opened his eyes, aroused from his meditation. It was odd. He had the faintest sensation that someone had been talking about him. Now that wasn’t exactly unusual, he made plenty of allies and enemies across the centuries. What was odd was that the voice sounded like someone he once cherished.

But that couldn’t be right.

The deceptive silence of his personal orchard gave him no answers. Not that he really expected it to.

For some reason he refused to identify, Macaque turned to the single peach tree in the grove. A tribute from his past and a reminder of his mistakes. But it was also a valuable resource once he learned the truth about the peach’s properties. He used its powers to protect many happy relationships, if only it could have helped him so long ago.

No matter.

He still had many projects to work on, including one successor just rife with insecurities. He honestly felt bad ducking out as he did. If things were different, he would have offered him a new life. His Stars were always happy to welcome a new member into their budding community.

As a bonus, his presence would have interrupted their constant attempts to set him up with new dates. He adored their efforts but being paired with partners who only wanted power or he would view only as friends was not something he enjoyed. Although watching them mentally destroy those they didn’t find suitable for him was quite entertaining.

Either way, New Years was coming up fast and he still needed to approve a few changes. His Stars were determined to make sure this event topped last years in every way possible, but they had to make sure they didn’t set the orchard on fire again. Or worse, they could launch the fireworks into the storm barrier. He wasn’t sure why or how, but the tornadoes and clouds turned different colors as explosions rang throughout the night.

It was beautiful but lost its charm after the third day.