#harmony marriage au

[appleshy-king]

with few exceptions i don't ship any of the m6 with any of the princesses but I wanted to challenge myself and do exactly that; I combined a bodyguard au and an arranged marriage au and came up with this! - an au where bearing an element of harmony comes with a union to one of the princesses, and serves functionally as both a spouse and/or adviser, and a bodyguard.

been calling this either the harmony marriage au, or the elements of marriage lol

Rainbow immediately addresses the elephant in the room and all but volunteers to form a union with Luna; something she does partly to prove she isn't afraid of anyone or anything, but also because… look man she said she was sorry and she's gonna start her new rule with everyone against her - someone has to be there for her. Celestia especially approves of this union, as, even if these marriages are largely political, the element of Loyalty would make a true companion for a pony like Luna. Despite that, I think their start would be difficult, given all the ways the two are opposites… but ultimately flying by moonlight is just as nice as flying during the day, and the long stretches of peaceful nights give them plenty of time to get to know each other.

Cadance solves the unbalanced issue and forms a union with both Pinkie and Fluttershy. There's no limit to virtues that are compatible with Love, but Laughter and Kindness just have that little something extra that catches her attention, nevermind how stinkin cute they are. All three take to their new marriage well. It’s especially helpful that Pinkie and Fluttershy have a pre-established friendship that could easily remain platonic, or turn romantic or queer-platonic; there’s also the fact that Cadance herself was once a humble pegasus raised by earth ponies before being thrust into this royal life, which could be why they caught her eye in the first place. 

(Shining is still here, as someone needs to train these girls in the art of guarding, and their relationship is still active (although PinkieShy would not be considered his wives); bc if there’s one thing I’m going to do with the princess of love, it's show off some poly pride!)

Twilight would, at this point, ““have her choice”” between Generous Rarity or Honest Applejack; either would be fitting for her new title as the princess of Friendship, and both are good ponies who she could rely on. However, given just how much Twilight’s life is about to be upended with new, well, everything - ultimately Rarity turns out to be her best match. She’s generous with her patience and tact in a way AJ isn’t quite, and more importantly she understands the ins and outs of the high class, making her a real asset in Twilight’s transition to royalty. Nevermind that the two were maybe already a little smitten before their union even took place…

This leaves Applejack sort of “auto-paired” with Celestia. At first Applejack seems like a horrible choice for a princess who is practically a queen, given how very little she knows about this life, and the way the upper class look down on her, but it ends up that her more open/harsh honesty that would have maybe been too much for Twilight in her new role is actually perfect against Celestia. It takes Applejack a bit to learn how to hold her tongue in royal public but she learns to play the game in her own way, and her willingness to speak openly and bluntly with Celestia - in private - is so refreshing to Celestia, who hasn't had a pony tell her like it is in ages. That said, i think this learning curve takes quite some time to even itself out, and in the beginning they spend a lot of their marriage clashing with each other, though ultimately i see Applejack as a respectful enough horse that her southern charm does just that, charming the princess in a way she couldn’t expect.

The six are still all friends with each other, although given the sister pairs some of them see each other more often; Twilight, Rarity, Pinkie, and Fluttershy are a bit closer in that sense, while Applejack and Rainbow consider each other best friends. I’d be willing to say maybe something is going on between them, if i didn’t think that went against what the element of loyalty stands for, but there’s definitely rumors…

[celestialseawitch-ff]

Forever After

🌟 New Story! 🌟

Title: Forever After Author: Celestialseawitch Rating: E (this is VERY E) Chapters: 1/8 Characters: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Potter, Remus Lupin/Rosmerta, Sirius Black, Neville Longbottom Summary: Hermione Granger's life was not what she had expected it to be. She was a single mother living in a small flat in Hogsmeade. She left her incredible job in the Department of Mysteries so she could take care of her son. Her life was not easy -- the father of her baby and ex-partner didn't make her life any easier -- but it was her life and she was making the most of it. That life was about to be turned on its head again and it all seemed to be centering around Harry Potter.

Links: Ao3 | Blog

[harmonyandco]

Hermione noticed that Harry's been making a lot of statements that could, if taken the right way, be considered marriage proposals, like saying "let's do this forever" when sitting down for a Star Wars marathon. She can't tell if he means these things platonically or if he's dropping hints. (She would eventually find out that he was letting her know that the marriage proposal that she brushed off as a joke last year and mostly forgotten was still an option.)

@johnburtonlee

[dreamescapeswriting]

Sometimes The Quietest Love Is The Loudest ~ KSM

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.7K 

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationships, mafia au, arranged marriage, smut, breeding kink, MINORS DNI, thigh riding, make out, angry kiss, breeding, unproected sex - obviously - jealousy

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Seungmin x Fem!Reader 

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

Things between you and Seungmin were...rocky, to say the least. The two of you rarely got along with one another but you were forced together no matter the feelings you held for another person. You came out of the walk-in wardrobes to find Seungmin standing in front of the large mirror in the shared bedroom you had. Dressed in a sharp black suit as he stood before it, adjusting the cufflinks on his sleeves, his lip caught between his teeth as he struggled to do them alone.

He was always meticulous about his appearance, never one to leave a detail unchecked. The event tonight was important—some gathering of underworld allies - you were sure he'd told you about it but you probably only paid half attention to him. But it was the same thing it always was with Seungmin, a power play. He was expected to win...Seungmin always won.

A soft sound caught his attention forcing him to look up from his cufflinks, and he turned to see you approaching him slowly. Your dress flowed elegantly around you, your expression neutral but not as distant as usual, something that made him feel a little uneasy. Without saying a word, you stepped in front of him and gently reached for his tie, loosening it and then straightening it with deliberate care.

Seungmin stood still. Almost frozen in place as he watched you closely. He wasn't used to this...your touch, your closeness without the usual tension between you. It felt almost alien, but somehow… nice. For the first time since the arranged marriage had been forced upon you both, you weren’t cold or dismissive toward him. You were kind and caring over his suit and he didn't know if he should have checked you for some kind of alien tampering.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice lower than intended as he searched your face for any clue to this change. It wasn't like the two of you did this thing a lot. Whenever you were around family the caring and kind side of you came out but right now it was just the two of you. Alone.

You glanced up at him briefly, your fingers still lingering on the tie, smoothing it into place, your teeth softly biting your lower lip. The silence between you was no longer filled with awkwardness but something softer, though unspoken.

"No problem," You whispered before finishing off the cufflinks he had previously been struggling with. Staring down at the diamonds which were the gemstone of the month the two of you had been married in. You did your best to ignore the flutter you were feeling in your chest.

This whole thing had started because your parents had decided the two of you MUST marry. That the mafia prince and Princess were going to have perfect babies and bring two crime families together. They hadn't cared that you'd been in love with another, that your heart belonged to somebody else but he wasn't a part of your world...You weren't allowed him.

Seungmin swallowed as he watched you closely, feeling a strange tug inside him. This was unexpected, this brief moment of peace with you... yet he enjoyed it. He craved this from you, this was all he'd ever wanted from the start, something harmonious that you could build a relationship on.

He knew that things between you weren't ideal but he'd wanted to make it so, he wanted to be the one you'd turned to for things and to become someone you could love...or at least stand to be around for longer than you were contractually obligated to be.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out, quieter than usual, as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Why can't you be like this with me all the time?" The question hung in the air, filled with vulnerability he never allowed himself to show. For a brief second, he regretted it, he wanted to kick himself for letting the words slip out. His eyes searched yours again, hoping for an answer he knew he couldn’t have. You were in love with someone else. He had always known that. God, you'd screamed it at him the day of your wedding but he wanted you...he wanted you to at least be calm and peaceful with him....Even friends, and no amount of formality, no perfect tie, would change it.

You blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his tone, you hadn't been expecting him to say anything. You opened your mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. But for Seungmin the silence was enough of an answer.

Seungmin’s expression shifted back to the familiar mask he wore in public. His eyes hardened, and the vulnerability vanished, replaced by the careful calculation of a mafia prince who couldn’t afford weakness.

"Never mind," he said, stepping away from you, the distance between you reappearing as quickly as it had faded. He smoothed down his suit jacket, straightened his posture, and glanced at the door.

"Guests are waiting." He grumbled, and without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, the tie perfectly straight but the gap between you two still unresolved.

As the door clicked shut behind Seungmin, you stood alone in the quiet room, your fingers lingering in the air where his tie had been just moments ago. You sighed softly, the coolness of the room sinking in as you faced your reflection in the mirror. For so long, everyone around you had assumed you were still in love with him—the one who occupied your heart long before this marriage. And maybe, at one time, you had been. But now? Now things were different.

Your old boyfriend was a memory you couldn’t seem to escape from—the one everyone thought you pined for. And perhaps, in the early days of this forced marriage, you had clung to the idea of him. The idea of an escape from everything...It had been easier, and safer, to focus on what you had lost rather than deal with the reality of what you had gained. But somewhere along the way, without you even realizing it, Seungmin had started to slip into the cracks of your defences.

It wasn’t his words—because there was a rarity between you both. But his actions spoke louder than any of the silence between you. The way he made sure your coffee was brewed just how you liked it every morning, without fail - even when he was busy. How he brought home fresh flowers for no reason at all, sometimes setting them quietly on the dining table as if he didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

He wasn’t expressive with grand gestures or romantic declarations. But every weekend, when he could have easily buried himself in work, Seungmin made time for you. He would set aside the weight of his responsibilities, and his title as mafia prince, and simply… be there. And it wasn’t just about showing up—it was the intentionality of it. He always made sure your birthday was a day off for him, no matter how hectic things got. How he would mark your family’s special days on his calendar and never let work interfere.

These small, quiet acts of consideration had wormed their way into your heart, piece by piece. You couldn’t deny that part of you had grown used to him—maybe even more than that. Sometimes the quietest love is the loudest.

Maybe you weren’t the only one who had grown used to this life that you shared—this marriage between you. Maybe Seungmin felt something, too. You thought back to his question, the vulnerability that had slipped through for just a second. The way his eyes had practically burnt into the side of your head,

"Why can't you be like this with me all the time?"

Maybe, if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t hate the idea of trying. The doorbell went wrecking your mind before you straighten out your dress, ready to go and join your husband and the rest of his guests.

The evening had been a whirlwind of distractions, one after the other, keeping you and Seungmin apart. No matter how hard you tried, someone was always there—another conversation, another handshake, another person demanding his attention and leaving you with nothing. You’d spent the whole night stealing glances at him, your heart tightening each time he turned away, wondering if he even noticed. Wondering if he could feel how much you'd been staring at him all night. All you wanted was a moment alone, a chance to talk—really talk. To air all of it out. To tell him everything you'd been holding back.

When the opportunity finally came, it was almost a relief. The music slowed, and you caught his eye across the room, you knew your parents and guests were going to want to see you together and this was the perfect chance to talk alone with him. Without hesitation, you moved toward him, slipping through the crowd until you were finally by his side. You slid your glass into the waiter's hand and smiled up at Seungmin. He met you with a soft look, one that was reserved only for you in the midst of all the chaos.

"Shall we dance?" You asked, your voice low, intimate, as if the crowd had faded and it was just the two of you. Seungmin was completely shocked but nodded. Smiling more you began by taking his hand as he pulled you onto the dance floor. His touch was firm, and grounding, and the closeness between you felt different tonight. As his hand settled on your waist, pulling you just a bit closer, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of what you were about to say. This was the moment you’d been waiting for all night.

"I’ve been thinking," you started, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him. The lights around you made his eyes look like they had a million stars dancing in them, your heart was racing from how close you were to him and you could barely breathe,

"You've been thinking..." He desperately urged you to continue. He would have had to be a blind man not to have noticed you watching him all night and he wanted to know why.

"Maybe we could—" Before you could finish, a voice cut through the music, freezing you in place. It was a voice you hadn't heard in a while but it still sent the same chills down your spine as it did all those years ago,

"Yn." You stiffened instantly, recognizing the voice behind you. Seungmin’s body tensed beside you, his eyes narrowing as he looked over your shoulder, you could tell by the dark look in his eyes who it was but your heart sank knowing he'd shown up here.

On the night you were finally going to tell Seungmin you wanted to make this work. That you wanted to try again. He was here.

Your old boyfriend - Kai - Malakai Rhodes.

"Please," he begged, stepping closer, his eyes filled with desperation you hadn’t seen in a long time but you stepped back, Seungmin moving with you.

"Just… just give me a moment to talk." He begged.b Seungmin’s grip on your waist tightened, his jaw clenching,

"We were in the middle of something, Yn...Tell me what it was you were thinking of," Seungmin begged, his eyes pleading with yours as you stared back at him, you could feel the heat of Seungmins jealousy radiating off him, though he remained composed. His eyes never left you, watching, waiting, as if daring you to say no.

"Seungmin-" He squeezed you softly and shook his head. Silently begging you not to do this. People were staring in your direction and they all knew who Kai was to you.

"Don't do this, people will talk," he whispered to you... But you couldn’t avoid it. You’d known this moment would come, eventually. You gently pulled away from Seungmin, giving him an apologetic look. His eyes flickered with hurt as he watched you willing to go to someone else but he didn’t stop you.

"I’ll be right back," you whispered, but you could tell by the way his jaw tightened that it didn’t ease the tension between you, standing up you pressed your lips to his cheek softly. Seungmin stood there, rooted in place as he watched you walk away with the man he’d always known was still a shadow in your heart. His chest tightened, anxiety blooming inside him as he watched you two speak. He couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. The way your ex-boyfriend leaned in close, the way his eyes pleaded with you, stirred a possessiveness in Seungmin that he’d never felt this strongly before. He hated how this man still had the power to pull you away, even for a moment.

Seungmin's fingers flexed at his side, restless, as jealousy churned in his gut. He couldn't hear anything, couldn’t know what was being said. All he could do was stand there, his thoughts spiralling. What if this was the moment you decided to leave? What if you were planning to leave him tonight? Was this you going to leave and make him look like a fool?

The conversation didn’t last long, but for Seungmin, every second dragged out like an eternity. When you finally turned back to him, his pulse quickened. You walked toward him, your expression conflicted as if you were about to explain, to say something that would make it all make sense.

Before you could utter a single word, Seungmin grabbed your wrist, pulling you close with an intensity that left no room for questions. His lips crashed against yours, fierce and wild, as if he needed to remind both of you who you belonged to. It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was desperate, claiming, a kiss that held all the words he didn’t know how to say.

He poured everything into that kiss—the jealousy, the fear, the anger—and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his chest as you melted into him. For a moment, the world faded again, just like on the dance floor, and all that existed was the two of you, tangled in a mess of unspoken emotions.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing ragged, he searched your face for something—an answer, a reassurance, anything. But he didn’t let go of you, his grip still firm, his forehead resting against yours.

"I don’t care what he said," Seungmin muttered, his voice low and possessive.

"You’re mine," he growled out before dragging you into the hall, your lips once again crashing against one another in a heated kiss. Everything the two of you had been holding back came out in this one kiss, your hands pushed into his hair and tugged softly on the strands.

Every kiss was wetter and needier than the one before as you moved your way up to your shared bedroom.

One minute you'd been standing in the hall the next you were pinned to the bedroom wall with his thigh between your legs.

"You're mine."He repeated, biting down softly on your leg and sucking on your exposed skin, and making his way down to your collarbone.

"Seungmin please," You beg, you weren't exactly sure what you were begging for, more kisses, more friction, just more. Your hips moved, grinding down against his thigh as you let out a loud moan of his name, you desperately chased your release as you rubbed your clit on his pants.

"No underwear? I should spank your ass raw." Seungmin whispered in your ear, smirking as you continued to grind down against him enjoying the way you were getting off when he'd barely even started on you yet.

"It ruined the dress," You whined making him chuckle softly as he shifted his leg a little,

"Look how pretty you are when you're needy for me, none of this talking back," He whispered in your ear as you continued to grind down against him,

"Don't stop," You begged, the words sounding more desperate than you had intended them to but you didn't really care. All you cared about was getting close to a release you'd been needing for months.

"Never, princess." He moans in your ear. You continued to grind against him, your release building and building as you rubbed needily and frantically against him.

"Come for me princess," He whispers in your ear, biting down on your ear lobe as your orgasm rips through you.

When you came down from the high you looked at Seungmin who was pointing over at the bed,

"Go. Dress off. Legs spread." He ordered, ripping off his tie all the while he kept his eyes on you.

You hadn't needed to be told twice, you stripped out of the gown and laid on the bed, your legs spread as he smirked down at you. His eyes were on your bare core as he slowly licked his lips,.

"You don't have to do that-"

"have to, no. Want to? Yes." He chuckled as he slowly sank down to his knees in front of you,

"Seungmin-"

"Do you want this pretty pussy eating out, princess?" he cocked his eyebrow at you. He wasn't expecting you to protest at this part but he wouldn't continue unless he had your full consent.

"Yes, but-"

"Do you enjoy being eaten out? Does it make you uncomfortable?" His fingers slowly tailed up your naked thigh sending a shiver through your body as you shook your head,

"What? N-no, but I know some guys don't-"

"Guys who don't eat their girl's cunt and make her cum at least twice before entering her are selfish and I will scrub their names from your memory." He growled before delving in. He surrounded your bud, sucking it into his mouth and making you buck off the bed,

"Jesus-"

"Just Seungmin," He groaned against you. His tongue darts out, tasting your sensitive skin as he continues to eat you out. It felt all-consuming as you cried out his name, not giving a shit about the guests you both had downstairs.

"S-Seungmin!" You cry out as he continues to taste every inch of you. Groaning against your clit, sucking and teasing every inch of you. His hands were over your thighs as he dragged you into his mouth, almost as if he couldn't get close enough. You moan loudly, completely under his control.

"Fuck, Seungmin." You whimpered as you ground your hips down to his face.

"Please let me cum," you begged as you dragged your nails through his hair, he growled getting rougher with you until you came around his tongue, crying his name out louder than the last time. Your body went limp against the mattress and a giant smile took over your face as you giggled looking up at your husband who was now stripping in front of you.

"You know what I'm going to do tonight?" He asks, tapping the head of his cock at your entrance, your eyes on each other as you bit your lip.

"What?"

"I'm fucking a baby into you, that way there's no doubt your mine." Seungmin watched as your cunt clenched around nothing and he chuckled to himself.

"You want that princess?" You nod needily at him as he slowly pushes into you, your moans filling the room as he fills you for the first time ever.

"Y-You're so big." You whimpered, your nails digging into his skin softly as he smirked.

"You're good for a man's ego, princess." He laughed softly before moaning as you clenched tightly around him. Slowly he began to pull out, only to push deeply back into you,

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” Seungmin groans breathlessly as he glides his calloused palms over your thighs and pushes your legs to your chest to whisper in your ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, love. You want that, don’t you? Of course, you do... I’m going to fill you up with my cum and make you carry my fucking kid—” He grunts loudly as he nods his head/

"Seungmin!" You cry out, clenching around him and whimpering as you nod your head at him. Your fingers found their way into his hair and he began to kiss your neck and your collarbones leaving a trail over your chest.

"Scream for me princess, let everyone know that your Husband is the one making you cum for him." He growled at you, his jealousy taking over him as he continued to fuck into you roughly like it was his last day on earth.

“You’re a naughty little princess. I felt you clench around me when I said that,” he chuckles lowly and your cheeks heat up in sheer embarrassment, but you can’t stop the whine that left your throat,

"Wanna be yours forever," you moan out, looking at him so he knew you were being serious about all of this. That he was the only one for you now.

"yeah?" His hips stuttered ever-so-slightly and you could see him trying to figure out if this was the truth, you leant up, wrapping your legs around him tightly as he continued to thrust into your needy and waiting cunt.

"Make me yours, make me carry your babies, Seungmin." You beg, his hips desperately moving as he pounded into you, your pussy clenching around him as you came once again, your mouth falling open in ecstasy. That was all it took for him to fall with you, his cock twitching as he spills deep into you, your legs still locked around his hips as you let out a small whimper.

The two of you lay there, his cock still buried deep inside of you as you stared at the ceiling. You knew he was going to ask about your ex sooner or later and you wanted to tell him.

"So...about Kai." You said breathlessly.

"He was coming to say he was asking my permission to ask someone else to marry him," you finish, your eyes nervously finding Seungmins as he stared down at you,

"And I told him yes because I was falling for you." You whisper, barely finishing the words before Seungmin kissed you needily, his cock twitching inside of you as you giggled.

"Again?" You asked as he growled, kissing your neck.

"I told you, I was going to fuck a baby into you Mrs Kim." He moans, his thrusts sloopy at first but picking up.

You were in for a long and eventful night.

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[queers-gambit]

The Black Dread part one

prompt: after word is sent for Dragonseeds to raise up, you shockingly claim The Black Dread. knowing your stance would all but determine the war, both Alicent and Rhaenyra send emissaries to persuade your allegiance through means of marriage. when tragedy strikes, you fly to war. -> in this part - you claim Balerion and emissaries are sent.

pairing: Jacaerys 'Jace' Velaryon x female!Tyrell!reader pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!Tyrell!reader -> hair color specified reader -> technically Targaryen!reader -> ALL characters aged 18+

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

series masterlist: The Black Dread part two: read here

word count: 4.9k+

note: ALL characters are aged up - they are NOT minors

warnings: hair color specified reader but it's paramount to the story. Dance of the Dragons AU, Balerion lives AU - kinda heavy introduction. political manipulation, i guess no Baela, Rhaena or Alys romantic interests, ALL characters are aged 18 or older, Muses aren't in this part much, stolen Olenna Tyrell quote(s), Dylan Thomas quote.

though Balerion is not shown in the shows [HOTD or GOT], these are some of author's personal favorite fan art pieces: this this one, but maybe this color

Considering the climate, environment, elements, and location of each region with no true diverse distinction or transition between seasons, summers varied in each corner of the Seven Kingdoms. Notably, the mainland experienced vastly different summers in comparison to the constantly humid Westerosi islands.

This was expected.

Where the weather endured in King’s Landing is dry and stale - lacking cloud coverage, baking all forms of life under the unforgiving sun - Dorne was ideal: temperate, tropical, the temperature usually consistently comfortable.

Northwest of the continent, off the Westerlands coast in water of Ironman's Bay so dark, secrets remain hidden, summers on the ratified Iron Islands were cold due to the winds blowing from the North. The rocky region wet and slippery from rain; never humid, usually biting.

The Reach boasted pleasant summers; lush and green with fully bloomed gardens, perfectly balmy. The Stormlands lived up to its name and was plagued with frequent storms. These were usually warm rains - opposite the Iron Islands. The Crownland's annually hosted hordes of tourists at their ever popular summer attraction: temperate beaches. And why wouldn't they? The Crownlands's usually kept moderate temperatures and plenty of vast coastline to offer reprieve in the surf.

However, the only exception to sweltering, stereotypical climate that ransacks the Realm is the North - an expansive outlier. You see, in the North, summers are cold but winters are REALLY cold. From Bear Island to White Harbor, the dreary, overcast summer sky reflects on year-round, bright, pristine summer snow, making it glitter and blindingly glow. This results in the curation of a blue-grey filter naturally exclusive in the North.

However, tonight - You weren't ankle-deep in North summer snows. You weren't wheezing in King's Landing. You weren't vacationing in Dorne. You weren't sloshing through the Stormlands.

Tonight, you weren't on the mainland.

Tonight, you were on Dragonstone - ancestral home of your distant, estranged family.

Bullfrogs belted their croaky song, loud and incessant; as if trying to individually greet each twinkling star in the inky sky - the ever faithful audience; intrigued by this reckless and dangerous suicidal showdown you embarked on. Crickets chirped in a soprano choir; dotting around the maze of tide pools - cratered by the same porous, jagged, volcanic rock that defines the unpredictable, natural coastline. Frothing alto waves of dark navy, violent, salty sea brutally crashed against rock - the booming baseline of the frog's and cricket's private duet sang in perfect harmony.

All that was missing was a little red crab with a Jamaican accent encouraging you "kiss the girl".

Night had fallen. The winds were cold as a storm rumbled overhead. Rain fell sideways. Lightning streaked the skies.

You navigated through the dark - a slippery, dangerous feat.

Few windows of the castle gave a subtle, dim light; indicating the residents were more than likely turned in for the night. Still, despite the lack of patrolling guards and other witnesses, you remained in stealth mode. Only fools allowed themselves to feel cocky when their guards go down. When someone allowed their defenses to go down, mistakes are made, capture is imminent, the mission is a failure, and surrender to the enemy's mercy is forced.

Your presence on Dragonstone wasn't for romance - no girls (or boys) for you to kiss. This wasn't a social visit to recreationally mingle with the Velaryon Prince or Targaryen Princess Twins. You're not conducting research curriculum - no time to study flora, fauna, volcanic activity.

To the winged terrors, Dragonstone Island is a recognizable safe haven that promotes healing - the one place these miraculous beasts could relax, ease their defenses; be vulnerable with lowered guards. This sense of safety gives freedom away from the confines of Dragon Riders - simply allowed to be true, authentic, and animalistic.

Currently, a couple dragons sought refuge on the island, nesting, minding their own business; others sought rest, retirement, peaceful isolation. Several took advantage of the heat and loitered around the volcano, the Dragonmont.

They weren't just any dragons, some were rogue, wild; some released after captivity; all unclaimed, riderless. This tempted several persons to rely on arrogant luck and try their hand at harnessing the terrible beasties - but they never returned.

Summer days stretched long, giving limited time to move under the cover of darkness, and the nights progressively shortened each day leading up to the solstice. Your journey was miraculous, having never navigated open water before yet somehow arriving at Dragonstone after setting sail from King's Landing by yourself. Perhaps you had a hidden talent, a subconscious sailor mentality; maybe you were just lucky, or maybe your boiling emotions made you defiantly determined - running on pure spite to stay alive, unharmed, and without capsizing in an effort to complete your mission.

Most of the time, you relied more on logic than emotion, something that helped keep you balanced, grateful, rational. Leading with logic arguably "made" someone intelligent; solution oriented, stubborn, hardheaded, unwilling to compromise (a common foundation when leading with emotion).

Yet logic made you very black and white - no grey area. Logic is cut and dry. Logic is sometimes sophisticated. Logic is also stubborn. Logic abandoned empathy. Logic could be explained. Logic identified applicable reasonings and explanations. Logic is hard to argue against. Logic sustained battles of wit. Logic is sometimes discriminatory. Logic always tells the truth. Logic has limited loopholes.

Logic is fact driven, and when paired with your own rooted moral and religious beliefs, made you subconsciously judgmental.

There's a well-known proverb, quote, "it's not the destination, but the journey." Yet some philosophers think the destination is mundane, anticlimactic, boring, sometimes disappointing and unfulfilling while the journey is much more fulfilling. The journey is what's worth; an adventure, where development inflates, where a story worth telling lies.

Logic is the destination. Leading with emotion is the journey.

Leading with emotion develops thoughtful decisions. Emotions sharpen empathetic abilities. Emotions sometimes changes perspectives, broadens horizons. Emotions allow for differences in opinions. Emotions curates safety. Emotions heightens generosity. Emotions expands willingness to help. Emotions softens situations with compassion. Emotions often strides towards peace. Emotions structures harmony. Emotions accepts all. Emotions could be overwhelming. Emotions don't always have one, single, clear victor.

Leading with emotion makes you easily reactive, being why you made a conscious effort to engage logic; keeping yourself in check.

You often never lost your cool; always having a handle on things, but sometimes, it was a challenge. Emotions demand to be felt, and no matter how hard you train yourself and practice relying on logic, you were still human.

Both leading with logic and emotion made you passionate, sometimes synonymous with stubborn. Either way, you ended up here - on Dragonstone - slinking around in the dead of night as if a criminal on the run, trying to avoid the Rogue Prince's nefarious, outlandishly violent City Watch.

You were dedicated to the truth, hence your willingness to embark on this suicide mission. You know it's out there, becoming desperate to find it; never settling, fed the fuck up of mindless gossip the court whispered and hissed about. Enduring years of scrutiny and unfiltered rudeness made you confident, wanting, and energized to justify your claims, prove self-worth, assign relief, terminate turmoil, tension, and assumption.

Yeah, yeah, yeah - but what truth are you dedicated to? Your family's lineage and heritage, your birthrights, your position in society. Your contributing livelihood. They only thought you a young lady boasting the Tyrell surname - a broodmare to sell off. After Queen Rhaenyra proclaimed herself, you became incessant to prove you were so much more than a pretty fragile rose to be set in a vase.

Truth became your Eighth God; being a dedicated, loyal, trusting, worshipping follower. And the truth was, you're a Targaryen as much as a Tyrell, and by all means, had as much of a right to claim a dragon as any of the rest of them.

You refuse to take detours, cut corners, violate, or cheat to obtain your goal(s); arriving at your desired end result with integrity, completing your mission by barreling through obstacles with laser focus - like a predator stalking prey.

Boots slapped and clicked on wet rock, splashing in puddles, splattering mud up your legs to soak into your breeches. Heavy humidity - thick and muggy air - coated lungs and stuck in nostrils, being suffocatingly stuffy; breathing becoming difficult. You could physically feel the condensation in the air - hair adopting a mind of its own; beaded, clammy skin becoming uncomfortably sticky, palms slick with sweat. You missed the dry heat of the capital.

Dark hood of your cloak hid your vibrant hair; the material swishing, swirling airy fog low to the ground around your creeping form, creating an ominous energy. You half expected a ghost to appear at your flank.

The clanking of the night patrol's armor was heard first, alerting you to a diminishing window; sliding into the mouth of one of the dragon caves in time for the White Cloaks to stalk around the castle's perimeter walkway.

Even with thick rock cocooning your form, the rumbling of the nested dragon's slumber was heard; loose pebbles, dust and other debris showered from the cave ceiling. Despite the heat of the Dragonmont, you heard the slow echo of dripping water.

Your choice to come to Dragonstone, was it a logical decision? Or driven by emotions - fed up with the rumors, sneers, disrespect, critical judgement from everyone in King's Landing? ...yes.

Navigating a dragon lair was dangerous, but navigating a dragon lair with ZERO experience was an anticipated disaster. Surely, you must've lost your mind because no mentally stable person would dare step foot in this cave - let alone scale the depths in search of an ancient beast that could (and possibly wound) treat your charred body as a BBQ appetizer. With a gasp, you slipped on the rocks, hissing when the heels of your palms took the brunt end of impact and slit open; tiny pebbles sticking to your open flesh. You whimpered gently, jagged rocks digging into your knees as you cleared your hands and slowly found your feet.

Even with knowledge of your heritage, you hadn't grown around the scaly Targaryen counterparts like any and every other legitimate offspring. You were long divided from that side of your family, missing out on fascinating Valyrian traditional customs. It made you a slightly bitter.

No dragon egg in your crib. No hours-long practice in the Dragon Pit. No reptilian anatomy studies. No personalized leather saddle embellished with a three-headed dragon. No claim to ancestral privilege or birthright. No unique morality, nor holier than thou complex. No generational beast to inherit.

Skin free from the lingering, invasive, embedded stench of dragon hide.

You used to think learning Ancient Valyrian was a redundant waste of time, education, and resources. You were raised in the ancestral keep in the Reach's capital, Highgarden, under your father, Lord Tyrell, and his beloved wife - the Vanished Princess - which made this secret sleuthing harder to rationalize or explain, given no Targaryen ever lived in Highgarden. Never before were dragons hosted in The Reach, and therefor, a Dragon Pit was never erected.

So, you know how when you're a kid and see something at the store that you really want but your parent says no because you already have too much shit? They might've made their point by saying something, like, "Where do you think you're gonna put all that?"

Well, Highgarden is the toy box and you intend on bringing home one of those enormous stuffed animals won at a carnival / festival.

If anyone knew of this plan, they might've sent you to the medical institute the Citadel in Oldtown operates; involuntarily commit you to the structured research program that studies different mental and physical medical phenomenons.

Truth was, this wasn't even your idea. Your grandmother, who definitely either spent time in one of the Citadel's cells or should, encouraged you. Perhaps that should've been a red flag, but it was too late now, her words echoing in your mind ―

Be a dragon.

The gardens you walked through were in fragrant, full bloom; providing a sweet air to combat the foul words you admitted with your arm looped in your grandmother's. You paced evenly through the overgrown foliage, the bees buzzing to drown your words.

"Perhaps, something is wrong with me," you sulked, "because surely, it cannot be this difficult to find a match. It seems I need to lower my standards, I could not attract a decent man if I were covered in honey and he were a fly."

"Perhaps try covering yourself in shit, then," she advised with a knowing smirk.

"Grandmother."

"Well, it's curious, isn't it?" Celia asked.

"What is?"

"All your life, you've always been more Targaryen than Tyrell; fierce, loyal, impulsive, strong, enduring. Yet now, you return nothing more than a rose wilted from King's Landing's stench, moping about failed relations. Have you ever considered that simple men are incapable of supporting the love and marriage of a dragon?"

"Half blooded does not make me a dragon."

"No, but the spirit, wit, intelligence, spunk, ferocity, cunningness, and determination you display proves it." She paused your stroll, secluded canopy shroud by foliage to provide a moment of privacy.

"Not all would think so," you let your eyes roll.

"Who do you speak of?"

"Those who think I am lying about my own Targaryen parentage, citing the color of my hair as evidence. You would think I'm one of the Queen's sons, the way they whisper."

"Do not listen to busy mouths, sweet child, hair cannot be a sole indication of parentage. I know it's easy to cite, but not all descendants of Valyria have silver locks, and should anyone have anything to say, know they are merely bitter and jealous for your hair is the perfect blend of Tyrell auburn and Targaryen silver. A color that is hard to ignore."

"Yet it's not enough to prove myself to them, Grandmother."

Now Celia sounded determined but angry, "You are every bit Tyrell as you are Targaryen. While you might not appear to their biased eye, there's never been denial that you are made in your mother's fire. Pure blooded or not, you're a dragon, my sweet petal."

"So?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods - so, be a dragon! Dragons do not fret because men don't blink twice at them, they eat those men! Don't beg for approval; maintain your dignity, instill a new opinion, demand respect! Prove your strength, skill, and capabilities - everything the courts would deliberately overlook. Prove everyone wrong, offer contribution to this war, become a valuable asset who would be foolish to send away. Establish your seat at the table and never let anyone talk down on you again," your grandmother snarled with passion. "There's more than one way to prove you have the blood of the dragon."

"Such as? What would you have me do?"

"I hear rumor there remains a host of unclaimed dragons on Dragonstone. The Queen's son and heir, Prince Jacaerys, has called for dragonseeds to try their hand - they need more dragonriders for their war. Claiming your birthright might be the fastest, easiest way to earn the Realm's approval; doubling as undisputed evidence of who you are."

"What a terrifying thought."

"But what a statement it would make," Celia's lips pulled in a smirk, wrinkles deeper, more prominent on sun-soaked, wrinkled skin. "Tyrells might be flowery, we might sigil a rose - but we are resilient and refuse to wilt; even in the heat of dragon fire. The Realm thinks Tyrells are only pretty faces; pretty flowers meant to be seen and never heard, whose sole purpose is to be left on display. Preconceived as uselessly inexperienced during wartimes; criminally green, pure, innocent - judgement that makes them shockingly unprepared for how deep our thorns prick." Both of Celia's hands grabbed yours, squeezing, advising, "Do not go quietly, my petal, make those who doubted you be haunted by their foolish choice to challenge the wrong woman. Let them seep in humiliation and regret their judgement. Allow your successful conquest to be the biggest 'fuck you' to prejudice, the final nail in any coffin of doubt. Toss your wilted rose of fear aside, petal, embrace the fire that burns in your veins; you are Lady Y/N Tyrell of Highgarden, daughter of The Forgotten Princess, and you will not go gentle into that good night. You will be a dragon."

You were ensuring passage by morning light, intent to deliver yourself to Dragonstone.

Parts of the cave glittered with unharvested gems; a lost collection of rarities nobody dared pursue out of fear of the ancient, terrible Valyrian beasties that dwell in those caves. The walls sweat from combined dragon and volcanic heat, tunnels jagged and uneven; zero holes, cracks, or slits the sun could leak through (if it were up); everything terribly dark. At least there was a scattered pile of preprepared torches to light the way. A permanent odor of limestone and fractioned corpses assaulted your sinuses, dried puddles of blood seeped into rock, the scurrying critters who used dragons as hosts echoed with a twinkling charm - the least menacing reminder that you were not alone.

Claimed dragon chambers varied in size; pitstops along the winding pathways that ended at the largest chamber - a dead end. While other chambers were large enough for sometimes several dragons, this final stop could only be described as a jarring, stomach churning, hauntingly pitched ebony abyss of incalculable depth that played tricks on the mind. An abyss. It was like you were staring Death in the face and anxiety was dredged forth from white hot fear.

With a flickering torch alight in a trembling hand, you slowly stalked down the chiseled causeway that ended several lengths into the expansive, bleak nothingness. Pitch black shadows danced; the air felt electric, seemingly vibrating - alive and judgmental.

The glaring cavern besmirched your family name, hauntingly reminding that your disinheritance resulted in your late dragon bloom. The ebony airy sea identifies and heightens fearful insecurity about your estranged family's rejection, their lack of interest and care for your side of the family stinging; their rejection of familial relationships. The darkness predicted your failure, inability, and humiliation.

The cavern challenged your confidence and determination, your staked ownership and proclaimed lineage; labeling your bravery, beliefs and ambition as arrogant. It sneered about your stupidity, weakness, fear, and anxiety; belittled applied effort and desired goals; questioned your true desires and needs; tested your loyalty.

The cavern rejects any and all attempts before you could even try; unraveling your logic, shunning your emotions; proclaims reactive decisions as immature and lacking control, crowning you as dangerously naïve.

The cavern mocked your desperately pathetic need for station and acceptance; revoking and nullifying public (and private) ladyship, dubbing you unladylike - which, in itself, was insulting to your womanhood. Why do men get all the exciting adventure, but when a woman tries, she's crucified for being irresponsible? Smooth ebony waves reflected your maddening, constant effort and want for acknowledged contributions.

To the naked eye, the cavern appeared uninhabited, assuming the habitat was abandoned. The silence was eery; air buzzing with alarm, deceiving humans that attempted to see through the waves of darkness.

To a "true" Targaryen, this was just a sheet of camouflage the fire breathers wield for their privacy.

No wonder the Red Sowing was so... Bloody and devastating.

A growl was heard, something gravely and deep, intimidating and impressive. You frozen, eyes wide as if it would give you night vision, torch flickering, hands starting to shake. Then you saw prominent movement, lungs stalling and heart hammering. Slowly, a large, scaly, stained snout emerged at a sail's pace.

The more the beast stepped into your sight, your mind could only scream one thing - was coming face to face with a dragon logical or emotional? Because whether logical or emotional, this was a dumb fucking idea there was no turning back from.

So, you steeled yourself in position, dewy sweat lining your forehead to soak your hairline.

112 years After Conquest, dragons flew to war at the behest of the Targaryen family over Rhaenyra and her half-brother's claim to Aegon the Conqueror's Iron Throne. Sister-wife, Queen Visenya, rode Vhagar - said to have been the smallest dragon with bronze hide, yet, as rumor had it, still large enough that a horse could ride down her gullet. Sister-wife, Queen Rhaenys, rode Meraxes - who was larger; big enough to swallow horses whole with silver scales and golden eyes.

Then, The Conqueror, King Aegon Targaryen I, rode Balerion - the fiercest and largest, who’s wingspan could shadow entire towns, swords-long teeth assisting his ability to swallow mammoths whole, and who’s scales, wings, and fire were pitch black. Balerion was called the Black Dread and was so powerful, he could melt steel, stone, and fuse sand into glass. He never lost a battle - against human or dragon.

Balerion was also the dragon responsible for the Burning of Harrenhal, largest castle in Westeros.

In the year 2 BC, Aegon began his Conquest and engaged King Harren Hoare the Black in his keep, Harrenhal, who refused the Conqueror and was met with Balerion’s flames. In fire so hot, it melts stone like candles, the entire House Hoare was extinguished when Harren and his sons perished in the largest tower - later named Kingspyre Tower - though it’s said they haunt the Wailing Tower.

Since then, of Aegon's Three Dragons, only Meraxes boasted a single rider, but to be fair, in 10 AC, during the First Dornish War, allegedly, both Queen Rhaenys and Meraxes met their demise. Vhagar knew Prince Baelon Targaryen, Lady Laena Velaryon, and Prince Aemond as riders. Balerion knew Maegor the Cruel, Princess Aerea, and King Viserys, who, in the year 94, retired The Black Dread - thinking the beast was nearing his end. The dragon outlived every single rider.

In the year 129, Viserys died and The Black Dread stared you in the eye; curating a vibrating rumble deep within his chest that made the darkness dance. It'd been decades since anyone dared face this terrible beastie, thinking he wasn't long for this world; the pair of you curious about the other, no moves made yet.

There was no backing down, there was no turning away. This is what you wanted, for Aegon the Conqueror's mount to see you as you are - worthy of your of blood. You refused to be told you did not deserve your lineage, the Targaryen name, you would not endure disrespect any longer! You would earn your place in this Godsforsaken family, earn station in this Godsforsaken world, or die trying...

That night, Balerion took to the skies again, doing several laps in the air, soaring over King's Landing to let the residents of the Realm know - he flew again.

Your father's family hailed from The Reach, specifically Highgarden; colorful, temperate, lush, bountiful, and abundant. Your family oversaw 75% of the country's sole wheat, barley, grain, and corn production, even germinating the country's most grand gardens - which decorated a rather generous estate.

Despite the vast, open lands, there had never been need for a dragonpit before, so, when you landed your mount, he was left exposed on the outskirts of the Keep. Considering he was the largest thing, you know, ever, Balerion seemed content out there - so, you didn't worry.

It was strange, however, to see anyone without white hair on dragonback. Even stranger to the Realm to learn of your accomplishment; adding fuel to several fires.

The Green King Aegon asked lazily, a hand waving in the air, "Who?"

His mother, Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower, reminded, "She is of Targaryen seed on her mother's side, but was raised under the Tyrells. She sits to inherit all of The Reach, she will be Lady of Highgarden - "

"Until," Grand Maester Orwyle interjected softly, "her young brother, the Young Lord Tyrell, comes of age."

Aegon waved their words off, complaining, "Yes, yes, but why do we caaaaare about some red headed bitch?"

See, where the Targaryens had trademark white locks, the Lannisters had golden strands. The Starks had deep umber brunette color hair, and while both the Tully's and Tyrell's erred more on the reddish side, the Tully's had darker overtones, like an auburn, and the Tyrell's had lighter, coppery-amber waves. North of the Wall, they say "kissed by fire".

"Because Lady Tyrell has laid successful claim to The Black Dread! To Balerion!" Alicent snapped, quickly adding the snarky punctuation, "Your Grace."

"Well, we have Vhagar - "

"With respect, Your Grace, Balerion could give a singular chomp to any living dragon as Vhagar did Arrax and it would prove fatal," Otto Hightower, the King's grandfather and Hand, quickly stepped in to save his daughter from losing her temper.

"Well, she doesn't even speak High Valyrian," Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes; lip curled, slouched in his chair.

"Neither do you," Aemond quipped in his Father's Tongue.

Otto continued loudly to prevent Aegon's response, "With The Black Dread now officially out of retirement and in play, the only choice we have is risk facing him in open battle, or..." His eyes shifted to Alicent, pausing, sighing and revealing, "Send an emissary to negotiate terms of an alliance."

"Meaning...?" Aegon drawled.

"Meaning a marriage pact, Your Grace," Otto supplied sternly.

"With respect?" Larys Strong spoke up, "But the Crown is lacking in their eligible bachelors for such terms."

"Or perhaps, what of someone outside the family? Marry two strong allies of the Crowns? Alliances henceforth might not have to include Targaryen marriages," Jason Lannister threw in quickly, but every Small Council member denied him just as swift.

It was reminded, "There's Prince Daeron."

"Lady Tyrell is actually the same age as Prince Aemond, I do not think she is looking for a husband so many years younger than her."

"Didn't Prince Aemond already secure the Baratheons through a marriage alliance?"

"Technically," Otto agreed slowly, "but given the circumstances and turning of tides, Lord Borros can be treated with in other ways should we need to offer Aemond for Lady Tyrell's willing support."

"Rhaenyra will send terms, as well," Alicent reminded. "Lady Tyrell is Prince Jacaerys' age, she might consider breaking his engagement, too."

The Small Council continued their plotting. Prince Aemond remained silent. Nobody so much as threw him a glance.

When the Black Queen Rhaenyra was informed of your heroics and your identity was questioned, her uncle-husband, Daemon, informed, "Daughter of the Forgotten Princess."

And Rhaenys affirmed, "My sister's daughter... Do not mistake her lineage for guaranteed alliance; her mother and I are long estranged, she's lived in The Reach her whole life - she does not know us. Nor owes us any loyalty."

"Perhaps she could be persuaded," Corlys wondered. "The Lady Tyrell is unwed, is she not?"

"As far as accounts go, yes," his wife reported.

"Perhaps a marriage alliance?" Corlys glanced around the table.

"To whom would you propose?" Queen Rhaenyra asked, all sat around the Painted Table.

"If I may be so bold...?"

"Please."

"Given your marriage to Daemon and his daughter's are shared with our own daughter, Laena... Is there truly need for a marriage pact between the children?"

Rhaenyra cocked her head, "You mean to... Disengage my son from his intended, and engage him again...? Like a pawn in chess? My son, Heir to the Iron Throne, married to Lady Tyrell?"

"Why do you sound displeased by the prospect, Your Grace?" Corlys wondered. "I hear the Lady Tyrell is most beautiful, and we need the Tyrell's wealth like we need their dragon, Balerion. If used properly, he can melt castles alone, Your Grace; burn towns, extinguish entire bloodlines, torch this country, melt the bloody Wall. No living dragon rivals him in size, in ferocity, in age nor experience. He's been at rest for decades now... Something tells me there's a reason he's come out of his nest."

"An omen," Rhaenyra agreed, straightening her spine.

"Precisely - the portents are cast, Your Grace."

"Lord Corlys makes a point," Daemon chimed in, "if by marriage, we secure The Reach and take back the Iron Throne with little to no carnage. Should the Greens fight, not even Vhagar could stand against Balerion."

"Prince Jacaerys is a handsome match to offer," another lord agreed, "which should help sway Lady Tyrell to our side."

"Which also frees both Lady Baela and Rhaena for other pacts - if need be."

"But if we have had this thought, I promise so has Alicent," Rhaenyra stood from the table, staring at the triangle of King's Landing, Dragonstone, and Highgarden. "Who would they offer? Who do they have, unwed, unpromised?"

"Well," Rhaenys stood to meet her Queen, "if we had the thought of a marriage alliance, and the thought to break off one engagement in favor of another, who is to say the Greens would not consider the same?"

It was quiet, a shiver shooting down the Queen's spine. "Vhagar and Balerion are familiar with one another," she grit her teeth, "and Aemond is the False King's brother. He's an attractive match, too."

"I think it's worth making the Tyrell's an offer," Corlys sat back in his seat. "They will receive us both and decide their allegiance - just as the Baratheons did, just as the rest of the Realm has or must do as well."

"Let it be done - if Prince Jacaerys agrees," Rhaenyra nodded, looking to her son - wanting his consent and participation in his own fate. Jace proudly lifted his chin and puffed his chest, nodding while nobody noted the looks of near relief on Lady Baela and Rhaena's faces. In a moment, they had been engaged to Jace and Luke without their thought, input, nor consent. In another moment, they were single young women with the tantalizing prospect to marry outside the family.

"I consider Her Grace's offer an honor."

part two: read here

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

The Black Dread masterlist

i'm already writing it, but, poll for the end ―

[pascals-doll]

B.A.S

⋆ ˚ . * ·analysis— In which you were bound to a man you don’t desire or love by your parents. An entire relationship built on resentment and treaty-like. Abby Anderson, you’re neighbor whom lived happily with her girlfriend next door. Unruly cravings and wreckful thoughts take over between the both of you, assuring a succulent dalliance. Guess you Both Aint Shit.

abby anderson x reader

₊˚ପ MEGANS NEW ALBUM GOT ME ON MY TOESS 💋

˚ପ i cant believe ive had this lil plot thought out written somewhat since march and i never had time to finish it and im happy i finally did!

₊˚ପ description: MODERN AU! READER IS FEMININE PRESENTING (only desc of reader), MUTUAL CHEATING!, reader is kinda in the closet because of prejudice parents, mentions of heavy religious parents, reader is in arranged marriage with a man!, mutal jealousy, homewrecking, SMUT NAAASTYSMUT, dom!abby, sub!reader, oral sex (r receiving), reader is unexpirenced!, brief size kink, praise kink, heavy making out, fingering (r receiving), lots of pussyeating, no use of y/n,( ___) is blank for partners names, use of pet names (doll, beautiful, baby)

A lavish life was the experience of finding love on your own, letting it grow on you, and completing whelm your entire being. It was the process of getting to know each other to first kiss, to the ask out, to the relationship, and if your lucky; you build life together.

The stage of growth and love; where you plan as you’re just overfilled with emotion. That trigger to jump with joy at the fact that you’re building a whole life path with your special someone.

Years spent learning about each other, sharing parts of yourselves, and taking that time to progress hand in hand; harmoniously. Something, everyone should have the unlawful pleasure of doing.

It something you’ve always dreamed off, feeling it so close as you watch through your curtains. A secret craven in peeking into the silhouettes of the house next door.

You had seen them together for the past year since they moved in. Their happiness almost tangible as they enjoyed each other's company in the pool or on the patio, sipping cocktails and laughing.

You were hardly ever envious in the years you’ve been on earth—but it’s almost taunting like, the way they have so much to give. Truly in paradise with their passion for each other. Although, something didn’t always seem quite right.

Your life never stopped being stifling. You were bound to a man you could never love. An unfair business arrangement orchestrated by your parents alongside constant trips-pointless trips; taken by your close to nonexistent husband.

Abby's girlfriend was also often away on business, and you suspected that she was lonely. Going throughout your day and then coming home to see her in all alone, all day, in that big house.

The entire marriage was a sham, a rule-set of convenience. You couldn’t help yourself any longer once Abby moved in.

Often finding your eyes drifting to her, imagining what it would be like to kiss her peached lips, engulfed within those muscular arms. Such thoughts made you blush, and ignite a feeling in your stomach.

You couldn’t do anything except push your own crawling agenda away, only to have them return with greater intensity.

Abby Anderson was a phenomenal women. She was lead cordinator at a business with the pleasure to provide and work from home. She deserves someone who can take care of all that hard work.

Her girlfriend clearly couldn’t.

‘If you live a life you don’t love, make best of what you want.’

You had never been with a women before. Only close you’ve ever gotten to exploring was dabbling in lesbian porn when your husband wasn’t around. It didn’t take long to dawn on you—that you had never orgasmed, especially not in the way these women in adult videos do and definitely not with your husband.

It was pitiful, really. The fact you couldn’t enjoy such a liberty. Your own sexuality.

A faraway dream of self-discovery and not the norms fed to you by religious beliefs that you couldn’t claim as yours. Dragged on by your parents whom taught you, it was ‘all in good faith’ and ‘Lord knows whats best’.

The only explaination for your abomination of life. Merely neglectful to your candied desires. Wrong, yet right in every way. You were loosing sleep as nights pass, tossing, and turning restless.

Rolling out of your silk sheets groggily. You stepped into your house slippers before walking down your stairs to your living room where your pack of cigarettes are. You grabbed the pack of your dining table, heading out to your front porch.

It was midnight, blurred gray clouds into the black-violet sky as you lit your cigarette and dazing away. You could feel the stagnant air surround your exposed skin, your lacy satin nightgown—a slip of fabric only covering you.

Unbothered and insomatic, taking drags from your malboro as you sat next to your ashtray that displayed on your side table. If you were to turn your head; facing towards and into all your temptations.

From just the corner of your eye, you could see the lights were still on at such an hour. Impulsively giving into your curiosity, turning your chair; peering into her window across the street.

Puffing till your ash thins into the orange-tip. Your attention drowned out until you heard rustling coming from the bushes at the corner of the street and your home. You whip your head around, blunting your cigarette out onto your ashtray and walking towards the barricade of your porch.

Abby was taking out the trash. She dressed in a loose tank top and shorts. She looked relaxed, her long golden hair falling casually around her face. Eventually catching you, offering a friendly wave and came closer to the fence of your porch.

"Hey there!" Abby greets, cool-toned and intrigued. "Can't sleep either, huh?"

Your heart hammered in your chest. "Sure is, just came out for a smoke…uh-hm! How have you been?" You stammered your question, unsure of what to say.

Abby couldn’t help her gaze drop to your nightgown, her eyes glinting under the streetlights. "Just been cooped up alone, taking care of Bear and ____ is away on another business trip.” She exudes, smiling at the mention of her precious furry friend.

You listened intently, a small smile tugged on your lips “____ been gone since the week before. Preoccupying myself by enjoying my magazines alongside my tea,” You let out a small giggle which was returned.

Abby’s presence tensed you, goosebumping your skin as if you were cold all of a sudden.

A small moment of silence was a momentum of chance.

“Would you like to come in for a glass of wine or water? I’d be a horrible neighbor if i left you hangin’” You offer, stepping aside with a soft smile.

She took you in once more, head to toe and an adrenaline pumped throughout her body before spreaking, “It’d be my pleasure”.

4 words 1 sentence. A saying so simple is all it took, to have you clawing at your sanity.

Two cups of Wine turned into more and lighthearted conversations transformed sentimentally with each cup.

You bonded over the fact your partners often left for work, leaving you both lonely in such a big house. Eventually divulging your marital fraud, your desolation worn on your sleeve like an accessory.

“That’s truly not necessary—” you were cut off.

“Accept nothing but the truth, he doesn’t recognize how lucky he’s got it.” You picked up on how her voice turned stern, straightening up as she reassured you. You just stood there frozen.

You gulped, wrapping your arms around yourself as you suddenly felt exposed. You scrambled to think of something to say, your delusions wanting to take this in every way it wasn’t.

Abby suddenly closes the gap between the both of you, leaning onto your counter and into you. You could smell her perfume, the scent of fresh orcid and essential oils tickling your nostrils.

Maybe It was.

“Do you love him?” A very solidifying question.

“I dont know what love is and I definitely don’t love him, more like my parents did.” You grimaced, sarcastic and plainly disinterested in such a discussion. You truly have nothing to compare your marriage too.

“I hate fucking him too. Don’t feel a thing.”

Abby’s eyes widened, her hand reaching over to grasp yours. “Have you—do you like women?” She quirked, a soft giggle falling from her lips.

“Again. Wouldn’t know, sweetheart.” The nickname seemed so naturally. Like, you had been calling her that forever. Your eyes met with Abby’s; face to face with only so much space.

Then suddenly, she settles her strong hands upon both of your arms “And If i showed you?” She was so gentle with your demeanor, treading lightly.

She wanted it just as bad, just like you.

Her breath fanning your lips causing you to hitch. A trembling hand reached out, your hand brushing Abby's cheek, her hands pulling you from your waist. A passionate kiss spun.

It was electric, your lips molding together, tongues dancing in a frantic exploration. Abby moaned into your mouth, your hands roaming loosely down to grip your neighbor's slender hips. You responded by pressing yourself against Abby, feeling the firmness of her breasts through both your clothes.

Kissing desperately, hungrily, as if starved for each other's touch. Breaking the kiss, Abby nibbled on your ear, a weak whisper falls from your lips, “I need you….” Muttering in between kisses.

“Bedroom’s upstairs.” You finish. Abby taps on the cheek of your ass, signaling you to jump into her embrace.

Stumbles and giggles to make your way upstairs and down the hall to your master bedroom. Abby pulled away from you, looking around the room, seeing the mixture of objects from your husband and your own.

In some way, the infidelity. It made it rapturous.

"Lie down," she ordered you, her voice suddenly husky and full of authority.

you obliged to her command happily, body thrumming with excitement. You watch her climb onto the bed, hovering above you and eyes pouring into your own; a mixture of lust and tenderness.

"You're so beautiful," Abby’s voice was low as her eyes ran up and down, running her hands down your body. Each streak feathered on from her fingers tickled your skin, squirming as you legs lock together.

You felt a fluttering in you stomach at the compliment. "So are you," You meeked shyly, a pink hue on your flustered in face. You were breathless as Abby began to kiss at your neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin.

Abby continued her slow exploration, trailing kisses down your body, pausing to nuzzle your breasts through your top. "I want to see all of you," she whispered, her hot breath fanning over your tempered skin.

Heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded. The feeling of her gentle but eager hands as she threw off your clothes, baring you inch by delicious inch.

She paused to appreciate each reveal. The swell of your perked breasts, the curves that dipped your body, and to the drag of your soaked panty down your legs.

Completely naked and to her taking, Abby took a moment to admire you. Her eyes ran down over every inch of your exposed-self, salivating at your glistening arousal. "Better than my dreams," she murmured, voice full of wonder.

Insatiably on the same side of a coin. You reached for Abby's top, eager to return the favor. You peeled the fabric away, revealing her lush breasts, nipples eager with the cool breeze with excitement. She metled into your touch as she kicked off her shorts.

It was your turn to admire everything you’ve awaited. Her body glistened under the dim lighting of your room. The way eyes smoldered with desire tranced you as she positioned herself between your thighs. Your needy slick center coarsed Abby’s head; hovering above and planting pecks on your thighs.

Abby leaned into you. The feeling of her mouth searing kisses on your delicate pussy and her thumb teasing the taut peak of your tits. Your back arched arched into her touch, moaning softly as you reveled in the sensation of finally being touched by another woman. By her.

You notice the way she took her time with you. She was observant with each twig and jolt that came from your body, savoring you. She sweetly elicited a series of delighted gasps and whimpers from you as she continued her descent, twirling her tongue around your clit and teasing you down to your folds.

You choked out a cry of shock, “Fuck-ah!" you seethed, your hands gripping your bed sheets. You could feel Abby chuckle softly as she relishing sucked on your puffy clit. You felt like you were on a cloud, feeling completely elevated.

“Gaah! Ab—Abby!” Your thighs tremble in her grasp, feet kicking into her back slightly at the new found pleasure. The jolt that coursed through you felt ferious with the feeling of her moist tongue. She made her way inside your folds, teasing your whet entrance.

Suddenly, you feel the tip of her tongue plunge inside you, “Abby! fuckk Abby!” You let out a throat-curling shriek. Each lick inside you was a push of boundaries.

Legs trembling, mouth fully-agape, back arched, tits begging to be touched, nails clawing into your sheets, and grinding into her face completely high off ecstasy. Everything was new to you. The sex, passion, and connection. A seventh heaven.

Just as quick as the erotic came; it left. She pulled away from your eager pussy and anticipated body causing your back to drop and pant breathlessly.

"Patience," she murmured, her breath tickling your sensitive folds.

She continued her slow exploration, indulging her tongue as her fingers dance along the skin of your blimped thighs. Your breath hitched as you were dying of anticipation for her touch, her tongue.

Finally, fucking two fingers into you as she paid attention to your clit. Your deplore was sensuous, another train of cries and whines falling from your drooled lips.

Everything Abby did made you feel absolutely desired. Another thing, your husband could never do.

"You're so wet," Abby praises through her slurps and swallows of your leaking lithe. Abby’s fingers thrust forward, pushing in every inch of herself.

Her eyes darken as they watch themselves get squeezed in by your soppy fuzzed beneath. "So beautiful," she marvels, not getting enough of you.

"Don’t stop! please!”

Her thick fingers curl upward, she stroked your walls with her tips. She enjoys every moment of your writhing. Abby could live in this moment forever.

She smiled as your hips bucked up, chasing after every sensation. "So responsive," she purred, before adding a third thick finger inside you. she stretched you out completely, feeling every bit as your hands tugged onto her blonde hair.

She pulled her fingers out alight from so deep, dragging her tongue down once more your slick folds and lapping up your essence.

"Oh god!" Your moan gutteral and body thrashing against her and your bed. The tip of her fingers swirled inside softly, pressing onto your soft sex-gush.

An electrifying chilled jostled down to cramped hips as your stomach twisted blissfully. "Cum for me," she praises, working through your overwhelming orgasm.

Lewd spewls and ravenous chill flowed out and through you. Completely mind-fucked as you cream all over the tip of her fingers and tongue. Your body tightened like a coil, coating her with your sticky release with a final cry, "Oh, Abby!" As she cupped your leaking cum around her three fingers.

She brought them up to her lips, sucking them clean, releasing with a pop, and groan in delight. “You’re so fucking heavenly, taste it too.” She coos, crawling her way to meet your glowed and fucked out-self.

“Don’t tap out now, doll, I’m only getting started.”

Both of your integrity’s thrown out the door.

“This isn’t….” A pointless mumble left your lips, somewhat dawning the fact; You just cheated on your husband.

“They aren’t even here, right baby?”

a/n: ugh my slut ass probably gonna make another part 🤞🏼🐇

dolls-taglist̗̀:➛ @marsworlddd @cosmopolitanaut @elliewilliamsgirl3 @elliewilliamgfooc @graviewaviee @yourelliewillms @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @yondaimekazzy @moonyvs4 @tearouthearts @ride4els @colecassidysfav @theoraekenslover @localorphanage @starmoon333 @bready101

[marscardigan]

war of hearts — chapter ii. the masquerade ball

series masterlist

summary: royal au. ellie williams had a reputation as one of jackson’s most skilled spies. no matter the cost, she always accomplished her missions, and never dared to fail. everything changes when she is ordered to assassinate the only daughter of the wolves’ king. the lines blur. and the mission that should have been easy and fast, becomes anything but.

word count: 4.3k

The kingdom had never been so alive. And everyone knew it.

The streets of the capital were thrumming with anticipation. Colorful banners stretched from rooftop to rooftop, woven silks of royal blue and gold fluttering in the crisp morning air. Lanterns had already been strung along the main roads, their delicate glass panes shimmering beneath the sunlight, awaiting the moment they would bathe the streets in a warm glow.

The city's fountains overflowed with fresh petals, dyed in the colors of the royal house. Bakers displayed their finest confections—honeyed tarts, cinnamon-dusted pastries, sweetened wine set to simmer over open flames. Merchants sold elaborate masks of ivory and sapphire, adding to the allure of the grand event.

Even the poorest of the common folk had found ways to partake in the festivities, scraping together coin for a chance to glimpse the nobles who would soon arrive in all their wealth and splendor.

Tonight, the world would watch as their princess took her first step toward marriage. It was a promise of change, of prosperity, of new alliances forged in gold and sealed in vows. For the kingdom, it was a day of joy. But for you, it was the end of something you had never been allowed to keep.

The room was filled with movement—maids rushing back and forth, seamstresses making last-minute adjustments, jewelers presenting trays of diamonds and sapphires for consideration. In the center of it all, you sat before a grand mirror, your reflection adorned in layers of silk and lace.

Abby stood beside you, her armor traded for a formal tunic, though her ever-present sword remained strapped to her waist. She had been watching in silence as the maids worked, arms crossed over her chest. Only when the last of them scurried away to fetch something did she finally speak.

"You look…" she hesitated, as if unsure of the right words. "Like someone out of a legend."

You didn't bother to fake a smile. "I am to be put on display like one, so it is fitting."

Abby exhaled, shaking her head as she leaned against the side of your chair. "You do not have to do this."

You gave her a tired look through the mirror. "You and I both know that is not true."

She scoffed. "No, I know that you believe it is not true. That’s different."

You sighed, dropping your gaze as your hands smoothed over the fabric of your gown. "What choice do I have, Abby? Shall I run? Shall I defy my father in front of the entire kingdom?"

Abby's jaw tightened. "I would protect you."

You turned to face her then, something aching in your chest. "And then what? What life would I have? Hiding in the forests?" You shook your head. "No. This is the only path left to me."

You reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "You have always been my protector. And you will continue to be, even when I am married. I will need you now more than ever."

She did not pull away, but her grip was hesitant. "And what if your husband does not wish for me to remain by your side?"

You lifted your chin. "Then he will learn quickly that a king's daughter does not dismiss her most trusted knight so easily."

A ghost of a smirk flickered across Abby's lips at that, though it was fleeting.

Before either of you could speak again, the heavy doors to your chambers swung open. One of the royal attendants entered, bowing deeply. "Your Highness. The guests have begun to arrive."

Abby's gaze met yours, searching. You forced a breath through your nose, smoothing your expression into something composed. "Then I suppose it is time."

With one final glance at your reflection, you rose to your feet. No more hesitations. No more wishing for something that would never come. The ball had begun.

The grand doors to the ballroom were pushed open as the chime of a bell announced your arrival. A hush fell over the gilded hall as all eyes turned toward you.

You had been dressed in a gown of celestial blue, woven with silver thread so fine it glimmered like constellations beneath the glow of the chandeliers. Diamonds adorned your throat, your wrists, the delicate line of your ears. Even your mask—crafted from the finest porcelain and laced with sapphire—was a masterpiece.

The room seemed to hold its breath as you descended the steps, moving as if you had been born to be watched.

The nobles feasted upon your presence, their admiration barely concealed behind their masks. It was a game to them—to see who could win your hand, who could claim the prize of royal favor.

The first men approached—a duke's son with nervous hands and an eager bow. He took your hand in his gloved one, his voice trembling as he asked for a dance.

You granted him one. And then another. And another.

Each man bolder than the last, desperate to claim even a moment of your attention. You twirled beneath chandeliers dripping with golden light, laughter slipping from your lips as you let them adore you. They fell at your feet, drawn to your flame like moths to a lantern.

And not far, hidden in the shadows, Ellie sharpened her blade.

She watched you through the slits of her dark mask, fingers tapping idly against the handle of her dagger. It was almost cruel, the way you carried yourself with such ease, oblivious to the ruin that loomed in the dark corners of the ballroom.

And she realized that all the myths were right; you had a face people would go to war for.

Your soft features only made the room brighter, and your mere presence demanded attention. The way you danced, the way you let men fall at your feet—it was a cruel sort of beauty, the kind that left everyone aching for more.

Because at that moment, ever single person in that room existed only to please you. To charm you. Because who wouldn't want that?

Ellie forced herself to look away from you, scanning the room instead. Other spies—her people—were hidden in the crowd, blending seamlessly with the nobility. They would wait for her signal. They would wait until the moment was right. Ellie's gaze flickered back to you just in time to see another noble approach.

You turned around with grace when you heard your name.

Tall, poised, with broad shoulders and a nobleman's ease. His mask, a deep crimson, framed piercing hazel eyes. He bowed, but not in the way the others had. There was no desperation, no frantic need to impress you. Only quiet confidence.

"Your Highness," he greeted smoothly, taking your hand. His fingers were warm, his grip sure. "I am Lord Elijah of Maldonia."

You tilted your head, intrigued. "Maldonia? Your family is quite treasured, as I have heard."

"As is yours," he countered, lips curving into an amused smirk. "Though I imagine you are tired of being reminded of that."

Your smile did not falter, but something in your chest tightened. He was perceptive.

"Flattery suits you," you said lightly.

"As does dancing." He gestured toward the floor. "May I?"

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, allowing him to pull you into the next waltz.

Unlike the others, he did not grip too tightly or try to impress you with extravagant steps. He led with confidence, his movements smooth and deliberate. His gaze never left from yours.

"You don't seem desperate," you observed.

"I am not," he said simply. "We both are aware of why am I here. Marriage is a duty, not a victory."

You arched a brow. "And yet you dance with me."

"Because duty can still be pleasant, if chosen wisely."

For the first time that evening, you felt something stir. Maybe one day, you could learn to love him. Or maybe this was only the beginning of your descent into hell.

A figure stepped into your path moments after your dance with Elijah. If you have not been standing so close, you might never have guessed she was a woman. She wore no title, no nobility in her stance, only a quiet, simmering confidence that sent a chill up your spine.

Attired in a dark silk suit, the fine tailoring clung to broad shoulders and a trim waist, a silhouette carved from something lethal. Beneath the flickering chandelier light, the deep navy of her attire shimmered like rippling water.

The sharp angles of her jaw, the firm set of her mouth, the effortless way she moved through the crowd—everything about her spoke of a man's confidence, a man's authority.

Your breath caught as she reached for your hand, her fingers brushing yours as she pressed something into your palm. A slip of paper. She held your gaze for a moment longer, then disappeared as swiftly as she had come.

You unfolded the note with careful fingers. Meet me on the balcony.

A thrill ran through you. Perhaps intrigue, perhaps danger.

You turned to Elijah, who had been waiting for you to come back, and you offered him a polite smile. "It seems I must excuse myself."

His expression flickered with something unreadable before he inclined his head. "I hope to have another dance before the night is through."

You nodded, slipping away from the crowd.

The air on the balcony was crisp. Moonlight bathed the gardens below, painting everything in silver. The woman stood by the railing, and when she saw you come, she did not bow. She did not greet you with the flowery words of nobility. Instead, she tilted her head, eyes raking over you slowly. "Enjoying yourself, Princess?"

You met her gaze with feigned indifference. You ignored the knot inside your chest as you got closer. "It is a ball. What is not to enjoy?"

The woman hummed, shifting closer. "You dance like you own the room."

You smirked as you noticed her green eyes and freckled facade. She must be beautiful beneath that mask, you thought. "That is because I do."

"And yet, you do not look content."

That struck a nerve. You opened your mouth, but before you could respond—A shout tore through the night. Your blood ran cold.

Inside, the music had stopped. The grand hall was no longer a place of celebration but a massacre. Screams echoed against marble walls as masked assassins cut through the crowd like wolves among sheep. Blood splattered against gold-trimmed curtains, staining the pristine ballroom in an instant.

Your breath hitched. Abby. You needed to find Abby.

The women moved before you could react, pressing a blade against your throat. The metal was cold, sharp, her touch unnervingly steady.

"Stay quiet," she murmured, her voice almost soothing. "Unless you want to join them."

You trembled, heart hammering against your ribs.

This was planned. From the beginning, this had been planned.

Her grip was firm, her blade unyielding as she steered you toward the balcony's edge.

Your only thought was of Abby. But the answer did not matter. Because the spy was already pulling you into the darkness before you could escape from her grasp.

The carriage swayed violently as the horses thundered down the dirt road. The scent of damp wood and iron filled the confined space, mingling with the faint perfume of your own skin. The woman had shoved a cloth between your lips the moment she hauled you inside, silencing any chance of protest.

Your wrists burned from the rough rope binding them together, tied just tight enough to cut circulation, but not enough to leave permanent damage. You had no doubt she'd done this before.

The auburn-haired girl sat across from you, legs spread in a lazy sprawl, watching with quiet amusement as you wriggled against your restraints, sharpening her blade with boredom.

Her gaze dragged over you, slow and deliberate, before she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Now," she drawled, voice low and taunting, "you're going to be a good princess and behave if you want to live."

Your breath was harsh against the gag, fury boiling just beneath the surface of your skin. Your heart still pounded from the chaos at the ball, from the screams and the blood and the image of Abby lost in the fray. You wanted to fight. Wanted to claw at her face, rip through the fine silk of her suit, make her pay. But you could do nothing. You were bound. Silenced. And entirely at her mercy.

"You know," she mused, running her gloved fingers over the hilt of her dagger, "you're quieter than I expected."

She chuckled at your reaction, eyes flashing with something dangerous. "What, no witty remark? No royal decree demanding I let you go?" She tapped a finger against her temple in mock thought. "Oh, right. You can't."

You let out a muffled snarl, thrashing against the ropes.

Ellie only smirked, leaning back against the cushioned seat. "Adorable."

The carriage rocked violently as it hit a bump, sending you jerking forward. She caught you with ease, her calloused hands gripping your arms, steadying you before you could crash onto the floor.

"Careful, Princess," she murmured, voice dipping into something close to a whisper. "We need you alive for now." Her fingers lingered against your bare skin for a beat too long before she finally released you.

You swallowed hard, your breathing uneven. The reality of it all was beginning to sink in. You were no longer within the walls of your father's kingdom. Instead, you were trapped inside a moving prison, bound and helpless beneath the gaze of a woman who had orchestrated the massacre of your people.

Her smirk deepened, and she let her gaze flick over you once more, amusement gleaming in her raw eyes. "Something tells me," she murmured, "this is going to be very fun—"

The carriage lurched to a sudden stop.

The woman reacted instantly. Her hand shot to the hilt of her dagger as she shifted into a defensive stance, boots planting firmly against the wooden floorboards. Her body was taut, a coiled spring ready to strike.

The silence that followed was too heavy, too unnatural. No more thundering hooves. No more carriage wheels grinding against the dirt path.

Something was wrong. Outside, a male's voice rang out, sharp with irritation.

"Gods," he hissed. "Ellie, we've got company."

That name—Ellie. Her jaw tightened. As if she was aware of her companion's mistake.

The realization clicked, settling in your mind like a puzzle piece snapping into place. She threw you a glance, eyes flicking toward the carriage door before returning to you.

"Don't move," she ordered, then grinned. "Not that you can." Then she was gone, slipping out of the carriage in a blur of movement.

The moment the door slammed shut, you twisted against the ropes binding your wrists, ignoring the sting of fabric digging into your skin. Then the fighting began.

You heard the clash of metal, the grunts of pain, the unmistakable sound of bodies hitting the ground. Your pulse hammered wildly. Whoever had come for them—they were skilled. You screamed, but it turned out to be a weak groan under the cloak's material.

A loud crack split the air, and the carriage jolted as something heavy slammed against its side. It tipped dangerously for a moment before settling back onto its wheels. You weren't sure how much time passed before the door was wrenched open again.

Ellie's figure appeared in the entrance, breathing hard, her suit splattered with blood. Her once perfectly done bun was now slightly undone, strands of auburn hair falling loose around her face.

"We're leaving," she said, voice sharp with urgency.

Before you could protest, she grabbed your arm and yanked you forward. You stumbled out of the carriage, feet sinking into the dirt path. You barely had time to register the bodies littering the ground before Ellie was moving swiftly through the trees.

Twigs snapped beneath your bare feet as Ellie dragged you further into the woods. The grand silk of your ball gown had been reduced to rags, torn by branches and dirt. Your heels had been lost long ago, leaving you stumbling after her, the rough terrain biting into your skin.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Ellie stopped. She exhaled, rubbing a hand down her face before crouching near a small clearing.

"Stay here," she ordered.

You barely had time to scoff before she was gathering wood, because how could you stay anywhere else? As much as you thought about escaping, darkness occupied every inch of your vision. You had no clue where you were. And you have seen her eficency killing. You were not going to risk yourself, at least not yet. Within minutes, a fire flickered to life, casting golden light over the both of you.

You tensed instinctively as she reached for you, as your hands were still tied.

The steel edge of her knife pressed against your cheek, so close that you could feel the cool metal against your skin. You barely breathed as she slipped the blade beneath the cloth gag between your lips. With a single, precise flick, the fabric gave way.

Your mouth was dry, your jaw aching from being forced shut for so long, but before you could even think about speaking—about screaming—Ellie was closer. So close you could feel her breath right across your face, her lips just inches from your own as she tilted her head, voice dropping to something dark.

"Try to scream," she murmured, the tip of her blade now tracing the line of your throat, "and I'll slit your pretty little neck open before you get the chance."

A shiver ran down your spine, but you forced yourself to hold her gaze, to glare into those piercing green eyes that burned like embers in the firelight.

She smirked. "That's what I thought."

Then, just as smoothly as she had leaned in, she pulled away, tossing the torn cloth into the flames before settling back into her infuriatingly relaxed posture.

You swallowed, flexing your aching jaw, your tongue darting out to wet your cracked lips. You watched her as she stretched out on the dirt, leaning back on her elbows, legs casually crossed at the ankles. Your fingers twitched. If you had a dagger, you might have tested just how fast her reflexes really were.

Instead, you settled for words.

"How much have they offered you for my head?" You tilted your chin up, trying to ignore how dry your throat felt. "How much is a princess worth these days?"

Ellie grinned, amusement flashing in her green eyes. She reached for a small twig, twirling it between her fingers before tossing it into the fire.

"More than you'd think," she drawled.

You scoffed. "I can give you twice what you were offered."

Ellie barked out a laugh. "Oh, yeah?" She turned her head slightly, looking at you carefully through the soft glow of the flames.

You looked like a mess. A ruin of silks and torn lace, your dress tattered and dirtied beyond recognition. Dried blood painted a delicate line across your temple and under your nose, trailing down to your cheek, where mud was also plastered against your skin. Your hair, once arranged, had fallen from its elaborate twists, strands curling wildly from sweat and struggle.

And yet, Jesus. Ellie hated to admit it—hated to acknowledge it even to herself—but even now, you still were almost sent from heaven, if heaven itself existed. "And what, exactly, would stop me from taking your offer and still selling you to the highest bidder?"

Your stomach twisted, but you refused to let your expression falter. "You seem smarter than that," you said, voice steady. "If you let me go and accept my offer, you'd have a princess in your debt. You'd have an ally."

Ellie hummed, pretending to consider it. "An ally, huh?" She tapped a finger against her chin, eyes flickering toward you. "And what would I do with a princess in my debt?"

"You'd be untouchable," you said, voice firm. "No one would dare come after you. Not when I could have you pardoned. Rewarded, even."

Ellie grinned, shaking her head. "See, the problem with that, princess," she said, voice dripping with mockery, "is that I don't care about your kingdom's pardon. And I sure as hell don't need your protection."

You clenched your jaw. "Then what do you need?" you asked, frustration seeping into your voice. "I can give it to you. Everything you desire, and more."

Ellie tilted her head, considering you for a long moment. Whatever thing that passed through her mind, it was kept unspoken. Then she smirked.

"Right now?" She stretched her arms above her head before settling back down. "A good night's sleep."

Your hands curled into fists. She was playing with you. Mocking you. You shifted, staring into the fire, the heat warming your face.

"If you are only in this for the money, then you have no loyalty to the people who hired you," you said carefully. "That means if I make you a better offer, you should take it."

Ellie exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head. "You just don't quit, do you?" She leaned forward suddenly, forearms resting on her knees, watching you with an unreadable expression. "You think you can just buy your way out of this?"

"I know I can," you shot back.

Ellie grinned, flashing her teeth like a wolf catching the scent of prey. "You must be used to getting everything you want, huh?" Her voice was almost teasing. "Poor little, spoilt, princess, thrown into the dirt for the first time in her life."

Your cheeks burned. "I am offering you more than you could ever hope to make," you snapped. "More than whatever lowlife hired you could ever afford to pay."

Ellie just leaned back again, letting your words settle between you. "Here is the thing," she finally said, her voice slower now. "I do not trust people who beg."

Your breath caught in your throat. "I am not begging."

Ellie grinned again, "Sure sounds like it."

You inhaled sharply. "You will regret this," you said, voice quieter now, more controlled. "If you turn me in, you will regret it."

Ellie did not respond immediately. Instead, she studied you through the fire, green eyes glinting like steel.

Then, finally, she shrugged. "Maybe," she admitted. "Or maybe I will be too rich to care."

"You don't understand who I am," you said, your voice trying to sound calm, measured. "You don't understand who you've taken."

Ellie, who had been resting on her elbows, cracked an eye open lazily and smirked. "Enlighten me, then."

You turned to her, your jaw set. "I am loved. Do you understand that? My people—my kingdom—they would die for me. They would kill for me." You leaned in slightly, voice lowering. "And when they find me—when they learn what you've done—they will murder you."

Ellie's smirk only widened, as if she was actually amused by your words. She stretched her arms, letting out a slow, exaggerated yawn before looking at you again, expression utterly unimpressed.

"That so?" she said, voice light, mocking. "Your people love you that much, huh?"

You narrowed your eyes. "More than you could ever understand."

Ellie tilted her head, pretending to consider this. "So let me get this straight," she said, propping an elbow on her knee. "You think some farmers and blacksmiths and noble pricks are gonna come storming in here to save their precious little princess?"

You glared at her. "Yes."

She laughed, shaking her head. "God, you really believe that, don't you?"

"You think this is funny?" you snapped. "You think my people won't burn the world down for me?"

Ellie's grin faded slightly, her expression turning unreadable. She studied you for a long moment, then exhaled through her nose. "Let me tell you something," she said, voice quieter now, rougher. "The only people who burn the world down are the ones trying to take it for themselves. And trust me, no one's coming for you."

You opened your mouth, anger bubbling up, but Ellie cut you off with a lazy wave of her hand. "Maybe a few nobles will whine about your disappearance. Maybe your father will throw a tantrum and send some knights after me. But the rest? The ones you think love you?" She shook her head. "They'll move on. They always do."

You shook your head, disgust curling in your stomach. "You know nothing about my people."

"And you know nothing about the real world," she shot back.

You sat in furious silence, your heart pounding. She was wrong. She had to be wrong.

And with that, she laid down on the dirt, one hand resting over her stomach, the other still close to her blade.

You had met many men in your life. Politicians, nobles, warlords. People who played the game of power with subtlety and poise. People who made deals behind closed doors, hiding their true intentions behind honeyed words.

But she was different. She didn't care about power or reputation. She didn't care about playing the game. She was a rogue, a wild card. Unpredictable. And that made her dangerous.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned away from her, staring at the fire, your mind racing. You closed your eyes, and tried not to cry for the rest of the night.

taglist !

@elliesgffrfr @samcvrpenters @strawb4kdior @tphmnv @prwttiestbunny @liztreez @littlefallenangel111 @eriiwaiii2

[cocostyles]

Hiii! This was me! Can i request Sasuke x fem Uchiha s/o arranged marriage pls? Also can you make it non massacred au! Thank you!

Blood Chains — Sasuke Uchiha

pairing: Sasuke Uchiha x fem uchiha reader!

word count: 4595 k ( I might have gone a bit overboard i really need to get a life)

summary: You are forced to marry in order to continue the pure bloodline.

warnings; none, arranged married (?

hope you like it!

The Uchiha Clan had always been one of the cornerstones of Konoha. With their strength, their honorable history, and, above all, the cherished power running through their veins, they had left an indelible mark on the village. However, not everything within the clan had always been harmonious. After years of internal and political strife, the Uchiha decided that the best way to maintain the lineage and the purity of the Sharingan was through an arranged marriage between two strong members of the same bloodline.

Y/n Uchiha, a beautiful young woman with a strong spirit and an indomitable character, had never imagined being part of a political marriage. She was born to be a warrior, to preserve the honor and memory of her clan. She had always believed that her life would not depend on a man. Yet, when the clan council announced her arranged marriage to Sasuke Uchiha, she couldn’t help but feel trapped. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she couldn’t deny her father’s wishes.

Sasuke, on the other hand, had long distanced himself from everything the clan represented. He loved his family but had witnessed too many horrors in his life—too many betrayals, too many broken promises. His brother’s death had scarred him deeply, and walking a solitary path, regardless of the cost, was his way of surviving. He didn’t care about the clan, arranged marriages, or bloodline purity. But destiny—or rather, duty—had caught up with him, and even though he resisted, he couldn’t refuse.

When you were informed that you would marry Sasuke, you weren’t surprised. But that didn’t mean you were happy about it. Y/n understood her duty and was willing to fulfill it, yet she didn’t expect Sasuke to be so… irritating.

The wedding day arrived. The air was heavy with unspoken expectations placed upon the shoulders of the two young ninjas. They exchanged glances at the altar—not the look of lovers, but of two individuals simply accepting what had been imposed on them. It was only a brief moment, and Sasuke, in his habitual silence, showed no emotion. Y/n, on the other hand, stood firm, her eyes reflecting a determination that Sasuke had known since they were children, but there was also a shadow of doubt. What kind of future awaited them together?

The atmosphere during the ceremony was filled with curious glances and expectations from all members of the clan, especially their parents, who viewed the marriage as a necessary step for the survival of the lineage. “The clan needs this union,” was all you repeated to yourself as you listened to the priest’s words. There was no turning back now. You were trapped with him for the rest of your life, fulfilling your duty.

The first few days after the wedding were a silent torment for both. Sasuke spent most of his time away on missions for the village, escaping from his new reality. You, on your part, tried to fulfill your role as a wife, but the household duties and the clan’s administrative responsibilities left you with no peace. The bond between the two was so distant it could be cut with a feather.

One evening, after a long day of training, Sasuke returned home, tired but unwilling to yield. You were preparing dinner—a small welcoming gesture you hoped he’d appreciate, though Sasuke didn’t even notice it. His indifference immediately annoyed you. You were trying, and he didn’t care. Why was he such an idiot?

“Do you have something to say?” your sharp voice broke the silence, almost challenging.

Sasuke didn’t respond immediately. He was too exhausted to argue, but at the same time, something inside him couldn’t ignore the spark of irritation that had been growing toward you during his days at home.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied indifferently, dropping his bag on the floor. He chose not to fight.

You didn’t look at him, but anger began bubbling inside you. How dare he be so distant? you thought. “Then… why don’t you speak, Sasuke? Why do you ignore everything here?”

“I already told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, now with a hint of irritation. There was something about his attitude that drove you mad. Crossing your arms, you stared at him with determination. This was the first conversation you’d had in days, and you weren’t going to back down so easily.

“I’m not here to play your games, Sasuke. This marriage—whether it’s just for the clan or not—forces us to live together. I’m not some decorative figure in this house you can simply ignore,” you said, unable to keep the anger from filling your voice. Sasuke observed you for a long moment, surprised by the strength of your words.

“And what do you expect from me? To call you ‘dear’ and live a happy life? This isn’t a fairy tale,” Sasuke said, his voice cold and distant as always.

And there it was again—that discomfort in the air, that insurmountable barrier between the two of you. You sighed, feeling your nerves start to snap. You couldn’t continue living like this, in constant friction. But he was right, so you locked yourself in your room with a loud slam of the door.

The next confrontation wasn’t long in coming. A week later, while Sasuke was away, you couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening between the two of you. You couldn’t deny that there was something about Sasuke that attracted you—a darkness that seemed to call to your own inner shadows. But there was also something about him that repulsed you: his indifference, his inability to connect. You were so alike, yet so different.

Since the wedding, your world had changed drastically, but that didn’t mean you would stay silent in the face of the contempt you felt from your husband.

Sasuke arrived home late, as always. You were waiting for him with a cup of tea in your hands, staring at the floor. Sasuke removed his sandals, paying little attention to your actions, and went straight to the window, seeking some calm after a long and exhausting day. The barrier between you remained firm.

You stood up, leaving the cup on the table, and slowly approached him. “Why are you here, Sasuke?” you asked, your voice firm but with a layer of vulnerability you couldn’t hide. “If you don’t want to be here, if you really don’t care to make an effort, just say so and leave.”

Sasuke turned to you, his dark eyes as empty as ever, but this time there was something different in his gaze—a spark of doubt, of guilt, as if your words were beginning to sink in. “I don’t understand you,” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “What do you want me to say, Y/n? That I don’t care about this?” His tone softened slightly, but his attitude remained cold, calculating.

“Then tell me,” you challenged, locking your eyes with his. “Because you haven’t said a single sincere word since we got married. I don’t know what you think, I don’t know what you feel. Is this really what you want, Sasuke? For us to live as strangers under the same roof?”

Sasuke stared at your face, noticing for the first time the intensity of your frustration, your pain. You were hurting, too. “Not everything can be solved with words,” he murmured, turning back to the window. “What I do, I do for the clan, for the future. If you have something to reproach me for, say it. I don’t have time for explanations.”

But in his eyes, you saw something else. An internal struggle, a battle he had never wanted to share. It couldn’t be that simple. Sasuke Uchiha—the man who had dedicated his life to revenge and solitude—was fighting against something he didn’t understand, something you couldn’t clearly see.

The tension in the room was palpable. You could feel the anger beginning to simmer in your chest, but at the same time, there was a strange sense of attraction toward him. His presence, his strength, the way he seemed so distant, so out of reach, stirred a mix of conflicting emotions within you. Once again, you let it pass, retreating to your room.

The next day, you decided to do something you hadn't done in a long time: step out of your comfort zone. For years, you had been part of the clan, always controlled, always aware of your responsibilities. But at that moment, you couldn’t keep ignoring what you felt. So, for once, you took a risk.

You walked toward the library of the Uchiha mansion, where Sasuke often spent long hours reading. The air was silent, the whisper of books sliding between shelves filling the space. He was there, standing in front of a bookshelf, his body hunched over the volumes.

“Can I talk to you?” you asked, the voice softer than usual, devoid of the anger that typically accompanied your words.

Sasuke glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes void of emotion. “About what?”

You stepped closer, with your heart pounding in your chest. “About us,” you replied, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. "I don’t want to live like this, Sasuke. I don’t want to be in a marriage where all we do is ignore each other, and when we don’t, we argue."

There was a pause. Sasuke said nothing, but his expression softened slightly. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

"Maybe, just maybe, if we give ourselves a chance, we could understand each other. Maybe even become... friends."

Sasuke turned fully, his eyes fixed on her. “I don’t want to be trapped in a lie,” he said, his tone heavy, but the intensity in his gaze suggested those words were not only for you but for himself as well. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to act. I...”

But seeing how much he struggled to open up, you didn’t let him finish. You took another step closer and suddenly stopped him with a hand on his chest. Sasuke froze at your touch, staring into your eyes with surprise, and though his body remained tense, the energy in the air shifted, both of you felt it.

"I know," you whispered. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try. Because, Sasuke, if we don’t, this story will never have an ending.”

It was then that something shifted between them—a change so subtle no one else could have noticed. But in that instant, thanks to that small touch, you and Sasuke realized that the tension growing between you for so long was not just the result of the clan’s expectations or family responsibilities. There was something more, something that connected you, something neither of you could fully understand.

As days passed, the tension between Sasuke and T/n didn’t completely disappear, but something began to change in their strange dynamic. Both started interacting more subtly, less distantly. They no longer avoided glances or uncomfortable conversations. There was a fragile peace between them—one that seemed more like a temporary truce than a definitive solution.

One night, while dining in silence, Sasuke broke the stillness. “Y/n…” His voice sounded less harsh than usual. “Why do you always challenge me?”

You looked up, surprised by the question. Sasuke rarely spoke of emotions, let alone his thoughts. “Because I don’t think everything has to be so cold and calculated. The clan shouldn’t be the only thing that matters. Not when you’re so trapped in your own thoughts that you can’t even see what you have here.”

Sasuke stared at you, unsure if your words had any truth or if you were just searching for something more in him. But without a doubt, you had struck a nerve. He had always lived for his family, for the Uchiha clan, and had learned to disconnect from emotions. But with you, everything seemed different.

Silence fell between them again, but now it wasn’t as heavy. Though they didn’t speak, Sasuke began observing her more closely. There was something in her gaze—something defiant, something he had never noticed in any other woman of his clan. She wasn’t someone who would submit to the will of others, not even his. That intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

A few days later, the Uchiha clan organized an important business meeting that you were both obligated to attend. During the meeting, Sasuke was absorbed in discussions with the leaders, while you watched with disdain the conversations about alliances and strategies. For some time now, you had been considering stepping back; you were tired of fighting. At that moment, a man from a rival clan began to make insinuations toward you, praising your skills and hinting at something more than mere admiration.

“You’re a very strong woman, Y/n,” the man said with a smile, stepping a little closer. “It’s an honor to meet such an… impressive Uchiha.”

You frowned, uncomfortable. However, the man’s words flattered your ego. “Thank you, Yamada,” you replied, stepping slightly away from the man’s hands, which had shamelessly landed on your waist. “But I’m not interested in your empty compliments.”

Sasuke watched everything from his position at the table, and although his face remained impassive, something inside him stirred. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. But what right did he have to feel that way? After all, he himself had treated you coldly, and you two were only just beginning to coexist in peace.

But the way that man approached T/n awakened something in Sasuke. He couldn’t let another man be so close to you. Though he didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, he knew he couldn’t allow things to get more complicated than they already were.

When the party ended, Sasuke walked toward you without saying a word, brushing past the man with a deliberate bump. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, recognizing the tension in his posture.

“Was that necessary?” you asked, crossing your arms. “It’s just a game for him, Sasuke.”

“I couldn’t care less about what he wants,” Sasuke replied in a low tone, almost murmuring. “I care about what you want.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and though you wanted to challenge him, a part of you felt touched by his words. Sasuke, in his own way, was telling you something without fully saying it. There was something more behind his distant and protective demeanor. Why did he feel that impulse to protect her now?

The previous night, something had changed in Sasuke. Although he didn’t fully understand what he was feeling, seeing T/n distant from him—even smiling with another man—made him realize he wasn’t willing to let you go. Somehow, you were beginning to stir something inside him, something that had been dormant for years.

You, on the other hand, were confused. Although you still saw him as your husband by obligation, the tension between you had intensified in ways you couldn’t ignore. Was that what you wanted now? To have something more with Sasuke, even if he would never be the romantic man you had dreamed of?

One day, after a morning training session, Sasuke stopped in front of you while you practiced your ninjutsu techniques. It was clear that the way you both looked at each other had shifted, but neither dared to speak about what they truly felt. You were exhausted, your breath uneven, yet you stood tall and defiant as always. Sasuke, on the other hand, watched you with a mix of respect and... something else.

“What is it, Sasuke? Are you just going to stand there staring at me all day?” you said without stopping your training, a touch of sarcasm in your voice.

“I’m just wondering…” Sasuke began, his tone serious. “Why do you push yourself so hard, Y/N?” He had spent his whole life watching you push yourself to the edge, becoming formidable.

You stopped training and turned to him with a challenging look. “Because I need to be better. I can’t afford to fail. This is my life, Sasuke. The one I’ve built for myself. And you? Why do you do it? Is it just for the clan, or is there something more?”

Sasuke stared at her in silence, a mix of frustration and strange admiration bubbling within him. you are unstoppable.

“I do it for what I represent,” he finally said, his voice low but firm. “For my clan. For Konoha.”

“Then keep pretending you’re not human,” you replied sharply. “Keep pretending you don’t care what you think or feel and stay out of it.”

Your response left Sasuke silent, but inwardly, he felt wounded. It was true. He had always kept his emotions under control, never letting anything distract him from his responsibilities. But you had seen beyond his facade, and that both irritated and intrigued him.

That same night, after dinner, they found themselves once again in the Uchiha mansion garden. The moonlight bathed the ground covered in fallen leaves, and the stillness of the place allowed them to remain silent without the pressure of prying eyes.

“Have you ever thought that we could be more than a political arrangement?” Sasuke broke the silence, his voice deep.

You looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “I don’t know,” you answered after a long moment. “I’ve never thought about what could be. I’ve only focused on what is.”

Sasuke stepped closer to you, cautiously, as though weighing every word. “And what is that, exactly? You and I living like this forever?”

Your gaze remained locked with his, a flash of emotion passing through your eyes. “I don’t want to be just another pawn on the chessboard, Sasuke. I don’t want to be your obligation.”

Sasuke studied you intently, feeling your words sink deeper than he expected. There was something in your gaze that was disarming him. Something that told him he could no longer ignore his own feelings, the ones he had kept locked away for so long.

“Then what do you want from me?” he asked in a low voice, a spark of desperation in his tone that felt foreign to him.

You took a step back, returning to the strong, defiant woman you had always been. “I want you to stop hiding behind your responsibilities and start being real with me, Sasuke. I can’t keep living in a world where everything is just another damn duty.”

The air between both of you grew heavier, but Sasuke didn’t back down. He couldn’t. Something in his chest was beating fiercely, and it wasn’t just for the clan, not just for Konoha. Something else was driving him to stand there, facing you, ready to confront his own demons.

For the first time in a long while, you were not just adversaries. Perhaps, just perhaps, you were beginning to understand each other.

Even though you and Sasuke shared the same home and, in theory, were fulfilling your duties as husband and wife within the clan, there was a palpable distance between you. However, something had shifted in your relationship: words were no longer necessary to acknowledge that your feelings were evolving.

A couple of months after the marriage, Sasuke was in his office reviewing documents when a shadow appeared at the door. It was you, with your usual defiant demeanor, but this time, there was something different in your gaze.

“What’s keeping you so busy, Sasuke?” you asked, your voice laced with curiosity. “You can’t spend the entire day buried in paperwork.”

Sasuke looked up, his expression as impassive as ever, but his eyes revealed a spark of interest. “Work, as always. Do you have something to say, Y/N?”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his desk. “Do you really have to spend all day locked in here, doing things that have nothing to do with us?” Your words, though direct, carried a faint tone of reproach.

Sasuke watched you for a long moment, something he rarely did. For a second, everything about him seemed more vulnerable. His life, always so controlled and calculated, was beginning to crumble under the weight of his own heart. What did he truly want? He couldn’t keep living solely for the clan. You knew it, and he felt it too.

“What do you suggest, then?” he finally asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You smiled faintly, the spark of challenge in your eyes. “That we stop pretending we’re just tools of the clan, Sasuke. Maybe what we need is time... time for us.”

The change in Sasuke was subtle but unmistakable. There was something in your words that resonated within him, something he hadn’t considered before. What you needed wasn’t just to fulfill a duty. There was a need to be honest with each other, to finally be real.

That afternoon, Sasuke decided to break free from his daily routine, spurred by your words. He invited you to train outside the city, in a calm area far from the Uchiha mansion. You wanted to train together, simply to enjoy each other’s company without the expectations of the clan.

The sun was setting as you arrived at a clearing near the forest. You glanced at Sasuke as he began to stretch, preparing to start. His body, always so rigid, moved with an innate grace.

“How do you manage to stay so... cold?” you asked as you began your own warm-up.

Sasuke looked at you again, as if deciding whether to answer. “It’s not cold. Just... efficient.”

“Efficient,” you repeated mockingly. “I know you, Sasuke Uchiha. It’s a façade. And you know it.”

He said nothing, but inside, his thoughts were turbulent. Did you really see him that way? What you said had struck a nerve. He wasn’t just a “cold man” or a machine that only thought about the clan. There was more to him, and for the first time, he felt you were the only one who saw it.

When the two of you began training, the tension between you became palpable. Every movement, every technique, was a blend of challenge, rivalry, and something more... something that was slowly building. However, the most disconcerting thing was the electricity that seemed to flow—a tension neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Suddenly, as you sparred, Sasuke blocked one of your attacks, causing you to fall to the ground. The air grew heavier, as if everything between you had condensed into that single moment. Sasuke extended his hand to help you up, and as your eyes met, you found yourselves closer than ever before.

“You’ll have to do better if you want to beat me,” Sasuke said, trying to deflect the tension, though his voice was softer, tinged with something he couldn’t quite identify.

Instead of responding with words, you challenged him with a fierce red gaze—the unmistakable Sharingan you both shared. He smiled. Something was brewing between you, something even your egos couldn’t deny.

After an exhausting day of training, you shared a light meal at the mansion. Though both of you were reluctant to show emotions, the dynamic between you had changed. Sasuke couldn’t stop watching you, noticing how you ate, how you smiled, how every small gesture seemed more genuine than the empty moments of his past.

When you both finished, Sasuke stood and walked to the window, gazing at the horizon. The silence in the room was comfortable, something he rarely felt.

You watched him from where you sat, saying nothing for a few moments. Something in the air had shifted.

“You know,” you finally said, breaking the silence. “I... I don’t know if we’ll ever become what the clan expects of us. But maybe, we can try to be something else. Just us.”

Sasuke turned to you, his piercing eyes meeting yours. For a long second, he said nothing. Your heart pounded, feeling the weight of your words. Perhaps you’d ruined things, and he would withdraw again.

Then, suddenly, Sasuke stepped toward you, close enough that your breaths mingled. “Y/N...” he murmured, almost in a whisper.

The world seemed to stop, and you weren’t sure if it was the right moment to continue, to take the next step. But something in his eyes told you that, perhaps, the future wasn’t as uncertain as it once seemed.

Sasuke didn’t move for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours. The tension in the air was palpable, indescribable, something you both felt but neither wanted to admit. Your hearts seemed to beat in sync, and the silence between you turned into something almost sacred.

Taking a deep breath, your hands trembled slightly, though you tried to maintain composure. Should you take the first step? Something inside told you yes. You couldn’t keep ignoring what you felt—not when every fiber of your being yearned for him.

Finally, it was Sasuke who broke the silence, his voice low and husky. “Y/N...” he whispered your name again in a way he never had before. It was soft but carried an emotional weight you immediately recognized. In that moment, it was just the two of you.

Without further thought, Sasuke stepped even closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. The distance between you closed, and as you looked up, your faces were so close that your breaths intertwined.

“What... what is happening between us?” you murmured, your voice trembling with emotion.

Sasuke didn’t reply with words. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, and in an impulsive act, captured your lips with his.

The kiss was gentle at first, cautious, as if you both feared what would come next. But soon, the tension that had been building for weeks—that spark that had always been there but neither dared to acknowledge—exploded. Sasuke pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as you clung to his clothes, seeking more of the feeling only he could give you.

The kiss deepened with urgency, as if everything you hadn’t said before was being conveyed through that single moment. The world disappeared. The clan’s duties, the weight of expectations—all of it faded away. Only the two of you existed, discovering a new feeling, something you’d never experienced before.

When the kiss broke, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads touching, gazes locked. Your heart pounded wildly, as if it had finally found its rhythm.

“This...” Sasuke began, but his words trailed off, unable to find the right way to describe what had just happened.

With a shy but genuine smile, you whispered in reply, “This is just the beginning, Sasuke.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words lingering in the air. But the certainty of what you had just shared, of what was growing between you, was clear. It no longer mattered what the clan thought or what the history of your families dictated. From that moment on, the rules had changed.

Now, the story was yours to write.

[shuastar]

old money!wonwoo

genre/warnings: regency!au, old money!wonwoo, old money!reader, family name is yoon but nothing else is stated (korean is implied but never mentioned), suggestive (??? not really but..), implied past relationship

word count: 1783

a/n: ik the personalities kinda change in the middle but in my defense i wrote this at like 2am on 2 different days....wonwoo is still as hot so.. idk if i should turn this into a full-blown fic either [tumblr runs on reblogs!!]

“Are you even hearing yourself right now?” Your incredulous voice rings through the empty study. 

Wonwoo nods, bangs brushing into his eyes. “It can be contractual,” he pushes, quietly stepping forward.

The two of you stare at each other, the only sound in the room being the echoing ticking of the grandfather clock in the back of the room. You feel your confidence wavering as Wonwoo seems to not let up on his gaze, sinking deeper and deeper into what feels like your soul. Briefly, just briefly, you wonder how you two even came to this position at all. 

“Like a contractual marriage.” The words feel familiar on your tongue from the time you spent arguing with your parents on that very topic. The promise you made your fifteen-year-old self to marry for love, for your soulmate, for the one who would dance with you under the dim chandelier lights of your condo. So why did your stupid delusional heart catch on an erratic beat at the thought?

Wonwoo’s lips tug upwards at those words and you can’t help but notice how the remnants of his childhood dimples are still there. “Exactly. Like a contractual marriage.” His words are soft, uncharacteristic of the indifferent man you are used to. 

He dares to take another step forward, his fingers brushing your arms. You can almost breathe in his Armani cologne from how close you were. It makes your head spin – the scent of the cologne with a hint of his minty shampoo and aftershave. It threatens to break down all of your walls – the walls it took you years to build up.

When your eyes lift from the carpeted ground, you meet his eyes from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. They have an unfamiliar emotion swimming in the surface. It’s something that pulls you closer to him, unconsciously leaning in to gaze into his eyes. Almost as if your body wanted to memorize this effect on him. 

“Think about it,” he starts, “you don’t want to marry any of,” a pause, almost as if he adds it in for dramatic effect, “them,” he sneers. His eyebrows furrow and the perfect harmony of his stupid face crumples into one of bitter distaste. If he wasn’t standing as close, if his cologne wasn’t invading your senses, if he wasn’t staring at you with some unplaceable carnal expression in his eyes, you would have reached up and smoothed out the wrinkle on his forehead. Smoothed out the wrinkles on his perfect, pale, porcelain face. You would have reached a hand up to his jaw, trailing your fingers along his jawline and-

“Y/N,” Wonwoo’s voice cuts through your daydreams. He goes to push up his glasses, and you can’t help but notice the singular bracelet that adorns his wrist — woven tightly into an uncharacteristically messy pattern of blue and white waves. “If you don’t want this, you can tell me.” 

I can’t, you want to say. I can’t when you’re looking at me like that. With your stupidly pretty brown eyes and your stupidly gorgeous face. How could I ever say no?

He stares down at you, the corners of his lips pulled down into a hint of a frown. From this angle, the moon that shines through his study’s gigantic wood-framed windows, frames his body perfectly. His hair is tousled, in the way you remember only he can pull off. There is a faint giggling memory of watching your brother Jeonghan try to tousle his own hair like Wonwoo does, only to end up with blonde strands sticking up everywhere. 

You know you’re stringing it out for too long — you should’ve said something 10 seconds ago. BUt still, Wonwoo waits patiently, allowing your misted eyes to gaze over his body — from the tops of his hair to his expensive Thom Brown dress shoes. 

Your eyes land at the bracelet. 

“You can take it off, you know?” you whisper. It feels like a secret — the fact that Wonwoo still wears it; the fact that Wonwoo still remembers; the fact that the idea of you and Wonwoo once existed. 

Wonwoo is now the one silent, eyes fluttering to his bracelet. His fingers pick at the loose strands. The wave patterns move with every tug. For some reason, it makes your heart clench. 

“We’re done,” you say, “Remember?” Your words are harsh, almost forced out of your throat. It hangs uncomfortably in the air: an added tension in the thick, unbreathable air. 

”Not for me.” Wonwoo’s head rises, dark chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. 

Any words die in your throat. The three-word sentence Wonwoo uttered forces your lungs into a stop. Not for me. ‘Not for me’ your ass. Not done your ass. Because you remember sobbing in the hallways and him not giving a fuck. Because you remember hugging, begging, whining for him to stay. All for him to just say “no, it’s better this way,” and walk down the hallways. Not done your ass.

But you can’t bring yourself to say that. Not when his eyes blink slowly, lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks. 

They stare directly into yours, before moving down your body. His fingers still tug on the bracelet. “It was never done for me. For you, maybe. But never for me,” he states. Confidence is laced in every syllable he utters. 

WOnwoo suddenly takes a step forward. You take a step backwards. Wonwoo. You. WOnwoo. You. Wonwoo. Yo- Wall. Your back slams against Wonwoo’s polished marble wall. The chilled marble sends shivers up your bare spine. A staggered gasp is ripped from the confines of your chest and your hands fly out and land on Wonwoo’s chest, stabilizing yourself. 

You tense, head tilted up against the wall, lips parted. You can feel the surge of heat against your cheeks. Your heart beats furiously in its cage, threatening to pound through your dress and spill onto the carpeted floor. Your hands suddenly feel embarrassingly sweaty and your fingers unconsciously clench Wonwoo’s black dress shirt. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, head bowing almost naturally, “Sorry, I don’t know what-“ you’re interrupted by your own muffled noise — something in between a gasp, whine, and murmur of protest. 

Wonwoo’s fingers now interlace with your own, against his own chest. There isn’t a speck of hesitation in his deep eyes when he slowly moves your intertwined hands to rest just above his left pec (which you conveniently chose to ignore how defined it was). 

WOnwoo raises a brow, when you move to pull away. “I’m not gonna bite, sweets.”

You blush at the nickname, pressing yourself further into the wall, trying your best to sink into the marble behind you. “What are you doing?” you ask, hands still pressed up against WOnwoo’s chest.

”I don’t think you believe me.” Wonwoo splays your hands out. His eyes waver when his fingers cover yours entirely. They close for a split second, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. When his eyes flutter open again, they’re noticeably darker, more hooded. He swallows thickly when you turn your own eyes up to him “Fuck,” he whispers, forehead lowering towards yours. His hold on your hand tightens, pressing your fingertips into his pecs. 

You blink, pretending to ignore everything else. “Believe what?” Your lips lift up in a cheeky grin. “That you have man boobs? It’s okay, sweets, I think moobies are hot.” Your words barely even leave your mouth and you have the strongest urge to slap a hand over your mouth. Seriously. What the fuck were you saying? 

HOwever, as you blush out of scarce embarrassment, Wonwoo’s ears turn bright red and he groans. A deep gutteral groan leaves his parted mouth, followed by a shaky mutter of your name. His forehead lands on your shoulder, breath hot against your neck. One hand releases your hand and trails against your hips. It falters when it reaches your waist, before it snakes around and pulls you against him. 

“Fuck, you feel that?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep near your ear. It almost pisses you off, how hard you need to prevent a whine from falling from your lips. 

You’re about to say “Feel what?” when you actually do feel it. From the tips of your fingers, you can feel Wonwoo’s heartbeat. The muscle pounds a horse race against your fingers, going a mile a minute. 

You can’t help but let out a breathy laugh. “You’re gonna pass out at this rate.” 

You can feel a grin against your neck. Wonwoo’s hand — the one around your waist — roams a little lower. “You’re gonna tuck me in and kiss me goodnight if I do?” he teases, sharp canines nipping your delicate skin, punching out a gasp. 

“Wonwoo!” You gasp, hand lightly pushing his head away. “I have to go back down! Do not give me a hickey,” you huff, wiggling in his loosening grasp. 

Wonwoo pulls away at your words. “Y’ needa go down?” A shadow of a pout appears on his lips. “Didn’t even bite you that hard, sweets,” he argues. His words sound slightly slurred, almost forced as he stares at you. No. Not at you. Rather, at your lips. 

Either that or your chin. 

You would prefer lips. 

At least then you wouldn’t be the only one desperately wanting his worry-bitten lips on yours. 

You sigh, slipping your hands out of his. You can only offer a second of hesitation before you wrap your arms around his neck, nails lightly scratching his undercut. There is a small smile that plays aganst your lips as you rest your cheek on his chest (but not before you leave a fleeting kiss against the junction between his neck and shoulder). You can still hear his erratic heartbeat, stuttering in your grasp. 

“Wish you did,” you murmur, leaning some of your weight against him, trusting he’ll lift you up. 

Wonwoo’s arms circle your waist – lower than what you would’ve allowed before all of this. His hands splay across your back and lift you up, walking himself to the nearest surface, which happened to be his desk. 

“What?” 

You hum, now smiling as he places you carefully on the edge of his desk, inserting himself between your parted legs. His fingers paw at your waist. “Wish you did,” you repeat, your own fingers reaching up to brush strands of his hair out of his eyes. 

Wonwoo tilts his head dumbly. As if your words made all of his own words disappear. “Did what?” 

You coo, pulling him closer to you by his tie. Your cheeks are hot, you know, but it still doesn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth: 

“Wish you bit me.” 

[saetiate]

WELCOME TO CORA AND AVE'S FORTUNE TELLING BOOTH

❥ get a love reading! this valentines, cora @saetiate and ave @venustrvck are taking requests! event status: closed

send in: a character + one or more tarot cards (listed tropes) from below + sfw/nsfw preference + any other details! extra love heart! you can also send a kink from below the cut too. received requests here

you'll receive: a short drabble/fic based on your request :)

fandoms: blue lock, naruto, one piece, honkai star rail, genshin, love and deepspace

queer character hcs/reader and polyamory welcome too! please specify gender neutral/fem/masc/trans reader. no specifications will default to fem or gender neutral reader. this event is (n)sfw and dark content friendly!

example req 1: "hi! can I get a sae x f!reader, with the lovers - mutual pining? please and thank you!!" example req 2: "can i have oliver aiku x gender neutral reader with strength: arguments and add petplay please?"

PICK A TAROT CARD BELOW

❥ the fool: innocence, playfulness, recklessness; blind date, games, pick up lines, childhood friends to lovers

❥ the magician: transformation, beginnings, good omen; first meeting, meet/cute, meet/ugly, artist and model

❥ the high priestess: magic, dreams, knowledge; dream sharing, fortune telling, magic au

❥ the empress: passion, nurturing, fertility; motherhood, pregnancy, children with your f/os

❥ the emperor: authority, discipline, stubbornness; royalty au, power play, enemies to lovers

❥ the hierophant: community, learning, rituals; domestic life, university au, family traditions, religious observances (e.g. christmas, pouring sake for ancestors, tying the mangalasutra)

❥ the lovers: love, harmony, mutual attraction; soulmate au, confessions, mutual pining, first kiss

❥ the chariot: travel, action, ambition airport meeting, work-related au, summer/vacation fling, ceo au

❥ strength: courage, overcoming obstacles, urges; arguments, forced proximity, conflict resolution, proposal

❥ the hermit: solitude, withdrawal, introspection; hurt/comfort, unrequited pining, awkward flirting

❥ wheel of fortune: optimism, success, luck; chance/fated meeting, koi no yokan (knowing you will fall in love with someone), matchmaking

❥ justice: karma, honesty, decisions; returning a favor, relationship talk (e.g. talking about moving in together), mistaken identity

❥ the hanged man: suspension, potential, indecision; trust issues, infidelity, caught between two f /os, asked out as a bet/dare

❥ death: destruction, change, new beginnings; lost love, break up to make up, exes, grief and mourning

❥ temperance: communication, healing, moderation; comfort, wound-tending, drunken confessions

❥ the devil: desire, lust, temptation,; incest, any smut (see list of kinks below), omegaverse, supernatural elements

❥ the tower: drama, catastrophe, pride; hate sex, best friend's sibling, miscommuniation, yandere

❥ the star: renewal, hope, rest; easy love, at peace, coming home, first love

❥ the moon: emotion, fantasy, confusion; friends with benefits, late night/pillow talk, fantasy au, defining the relationship

❥ the sun: joy, friendship, prosperity; friends to lovers, fluff, love realization, praise kink

❥ judgement: awakening, resurrection, absolution; fake relationship, second chances, arranged marriage

❥ the world: fulfillment, experience, completion; marriage, growing old, aftercare

if you'd like, you can add or request a kink from this list: oral f!receiving, orgasm denial, body worship. 69, vanilla and sweet, omegaverse, size kink, lingerie, aphrodisiac, threesome, dirty talk, cockwarming, yandere, overstimulation, aftercare, face sitting, fingering, praise kink

get your love reading now! inbox either ave or cora with your req!

extra info

you can add dealer's choice at any point and we'll decide for you <3

you can send any req to either of us! blue lock can go to either of us, and by default it would be better to send one piece asks to ave and genshin+hsr+lads asks to cora, but we'll both receive them either way and make sure to get yours written :)

if you've already sent a req to either of us before, feel free to send it through again under this event

all drabbles will be a written collaboration by us <3 don't worry, we're very good friends and have been for years! cora specializes in dialogue and ave specializes in beautiful imagery and emotion-charged scenes, so it should be the best of all worlds

we reserve the right to deny any req we're not comfy w, we don't think this will happen but just in case!!

[meiieiri]

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 ⋆·˚ ༘ * FEATURED: LITTLE FIREFLIES EVERYWHERE -> 18+, angst, surrogacy au (on hold, series)

the chairman of the gojo group of companies, gojo satoru, is in need of an heir and quick. however, with a wife who is struggling to conceive and his subsequently crumbling marriage, he is forced to explore other options which now comes in the form of his wife's secretary.

heartstrings tied in taffeta -> angst, tragedy-ish you get married to gojo satoru at the edge of a frozen lake in summer.

the north face -> found family, angst in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the "son of the strongest".

to have and to lose -> angst, canon-ish au suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment's notice and he took everything with him - your heart, your soul - but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize he did, in fact, leave one thing behind.

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮⋆·˚ ༘ *

little nymph of his heart -> fluff, dad!geto in which suguru meets his newborn daughter.

when she loved me -> fluff, angst, dad!geto in which suguru wakes up from a nightmare and his little light comforts him.

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨⋆·˚ ༘ *

FEATURED: HIDDEN INVENTORY: THE LOST TAPES SERIES

an original ooneshot series depicting your life with toji right after he left the zenin clan.

harmony in the twilight hour -> heavy angst, tragedy, terminally illness so she tells him not to cry over the injustic of a life cut too short. for at the end of all this, she'll only be a dream.

beware of kisses! -> fluff "you really are your mother's son," toji grumbles to megumi as the little brat yet again refuses another kiss from him.

i'll give you my sunshine -> fluff in which toji hears the words "happy birthday" for the first time.

i could be pink, i could be purple! -> 18+, fluff, crack in which toji notices how you color-code your outfit every time you see each other and promptly makes agame out of it in hopes it will cure his gambling addiction.

miso soup -> fluff toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

[cozmowrites]

Bakugou Oneshots

The list will update as more publish! Majority of these were requests! You can request through here: requests ツ

Halloween (2024)

Post-Halloween (2024)

Heavenly Sparks (angel reader, demon bakugou)

Rody's Little Sister (pro hero reader/bakugou)

Frost's Only Believer (jack frost bakugou)

Trapped: Subnautica (subnautica au)

Grief

again, (my head is empty)

howling (noah kahan)

Trapped: Among Us (among us au)

The Fire Burns Out (cheater bakugou)

Hidden Among the Shadows (arranged marriage au) (full fic: ao3 , wattpad)

Against the End (good omens au)

Silent Communications (mute reader)

Trapped: Minecraft (1/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Below Zero (Subnautica) (subnautica au / pt 2)

Christmas Eve (2024): Sparks

Christmas With the Class (2024)

Flowers Over Words (flower shop reader)

The Night We Met (lord huron)

The Secret World of You (secret world of arietty au)

about you (The 1975)

jealousy jealousy (olivia rodrigo)

run (hozier)

sink (noah kahan)

Paul Revere (noah kahan)

Squid Game (squid game au)

Spider-Dyna (spiderman au)

New Year's (2024)

iris (the goo goo dolls)

Seven Minutes in Heaven? (2020 flashback)

BKDK x You

KamiBaku x You

KRBK x You

Operation Pet Name: Pup

Would You Fall in Love with Me? (epic the musical)

Sleep Deprived

Kacchako x You

It'll Pass

NFWMB (hozier)

Francesca (hozier)

TDBK x You

KRBK x You (pt 2 / final)

Come Over (noah kahan)

First Time (hozier)

If I Killed Someone For You (villain reader, hero bkg , alec benjamin)

Valentine's Day (2025)

Trapped: Minecraft (2/6) (minecraft au)

A Night Between Worlds (todoroki sibling! reader, halloween  - noah kahan)

blue pigz (king shelter)

Trapped: Minecraft (3/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Minecraft (4/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Minecraft (5/6) (minecraft au)

Trapped: Minecraft (6/6) (minecraft au)

the blonde (tv girl)

forever (noah kahan)

inizio (royal au)

The Net Between Us (haikyuu au)

Falling (BKDK x You) (vigilante deku x bakugou/you)

Unlikely Harmony (singer bakugou)

Good Time (owl city and carly rae jepsen)

White Day (2025)

wilted petals

regretful (knight bakugou, princess reader)

How to Train your Dragon (httyd au - astrid as bakugou)

[slytherinshua]

༄　A FLAME'S OCEAN　( 최지웅 )

genre avatar the last airbender au , fluff/comfort , established marriage , fire lord!jiung x water tribe princess!reader   cw war between nations , kissing , not proofread   wc 1328   request for my baby @blue-jisungs who wanted a jiung fic in return for a tae fic 🤲🤲🤲 i have delivered   note idk why i always fall back to atla aus BUT I AM NOT COMPLAINING i could fr write these forever i just love the atla world so much it's so nice for fics. also writing this was super nostalgic all the feels from writing my old wonwoo fic coming back cause i was listening to the same playlist i did back then <//3   net @kstrucknet

Fire and water. Constantly in disagreement with each other. Constantly fighting with each other. Yet, they still possessed components vital for the other’s survival. The oxygen in water fed a fire’s flame. The heat produced from that flame could change the structure of the water, from ice to boiling. Fire and water, despite their differences, were able to work together. 

Jiung was your fire. Burning with a passion hotter than any you had ever seen. Jiung lived for perfection, for ambition, for achievements. He could do anything, warming even the coldest of places and people with his blaze. The people looked up to him, adored him, but also asked too much of him. With a broken Fire Nation stricken from a hundred year war, there was much to rebuild, and countless problems to face along the way. 

Jiung was strong, but you could tell when the pressure started to get to him. As a Water tribe princess, your very existence as his wife defied the rules of the old world. It marked the change, the unity, the peace that Jiung hoped to bring to the entire country. You were both still young, but it was exactly the hope the people needed and craved for that only the youth possessed. Innovative minds, creative thinking, new ideas; from them, the heart of the nation was coming back to life.

Fighting alongside Jiung was quite different from calling yourself his wife. It was a title you still had to get used to. There was a humility you were used to in the Water Tribe. Because of the close-knit community, your role as princess wasn’t very different from the neighbouring market vendor. Everyone knew you, and you knew everyone. The Tribe was just that small.

The Fire Nation seemed almost endless to you. Vast, overpopulated, busy. You knew on the day of your wedding that you’d have to rule in quite a different way than you were used to. A nation afflicted with mistrust and grief needed to be carefully sewn back together at the seams. Trust and community had to be built before prosperity could blossom. 

Jiung focused on the communities directly affected by the war. The families that had lost their men. The homes that had been destroyed. Immense guilt filled his body at the sight of them, and he hoped to rebuild everything better than it was before the war. 

You focused on connections with the other nations. It was easy for union between the Fire Nation and Water Tribe given your marriage. You were a beacon of light for the Earth Kingdom. Seeing someone of such background work in harmony with the Fire Lord was inspiring. It wasn’t easy to persuade people, but through your hard work, they were slowly starting to see the possibilities of an era of peace. 

It was late at night and the warm Summer air was carried by the breeze through the open curtains of the terrace decorating your bedchambers. Dressed in light silk robes, taking down your hair from the day, you sighed. You had just gotten back from the Earth Kingdom after weeks of stay. You had missed Jiung, who continued to be one of the only people who understood your hard work and struggle. You had missed the Fire Nation, which you had just started to feel was your home. You had missed the warmth and the hope that the air of the Fire Nation carried. Although you were making progress with the Earth Kingdom, you still had a long way to go. 

Jiung wasn’t back yet. He had been working on the outskirts of the city the last time you heard from him. Handling the impoverished, the broken, the injured. You knew it was going to be the hardest area to build back up. Not only were the people the most affected by the war— they never had much. You were worried Jiung’s gestures would be viewed as insincere. You trusted your husband nonetheless. If there was anyone who could build back a nation from destruction, it was him.

You fell down onto the soft pillows, immediately nuzzling your face closer to Jiung’s side, missing his scent, his warmth, his smile. A smile crept onto your face before you knew it as soon as you heard familiar footsteps outside the door. You lifted your head as the door swung open, and your handsome, albeit tired, husband stepped through. You noticed how he visibly relaxed at the sight of you. It had been lonely without you for almost a month.

“Welcome home, my love,” he sighed, a smile on his face. He produced a small flame in his palm, sending it to light the lamps in the corners of the room, washing away the darkness.

“How was it? I hope you had more success than I did,” you beckoned him over to the bed, hand joining with yours as he sat down. He was quiet for a moment, staring at the wall decorated by a wedding portrait of you and him.

“Their homes are being rebuilt and necessary resources are being supplied… but the people are angry. And they have every right to be. I just don’t know what else I can do to help them,” Jiung frowned, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed in an attempt to fix his dry throat. You ran your thumb over his knuckles soothingly. 

“Jiung, you’re doing everything you can right now. It’s going to take time— a lot of time— and constant effort, but it will pay off in the end. The people will see how hard you worked to restore everything that was lost.”

He nodded along tiredly to your words. You always knew what he needed to hear. Having you back was what he desperately needed. He pulled you into his arms, warm body meeting your cool one. 

“I won’t give up on them. I just wish I could relax for a moment. There’s always more to do, always more problems to fix. Sometimes it feels like too much,” he whispered sadly. You hugged him tighter. 

“You can relax for a moment,” you proposed. Jiung pulled back slightly, questioning you with a look in his eyes. You cupped his cheek and smiled, adoring his every feature even when he looked exhausted. 

You brought your lips to his in a kiss that was both passionate and soothing, warm and cool. Jiung submitted to it, just as you wanted, relaxing his body completely and pulling you in closer, longing for more. His lips were soft and his skin was warm, inviting you in further. Jiung pushed you gently, one hand holding the back of your head while the other laid at your waist. You leant back until you hit the soft pillows, still kissing Jiung tenderly. He held up his weight with a supporting arm, not wanting to crush you, but still not ready to stop kissing you. His free hand fell to your hip, circling the small dip there, one of the many features he adored about you.  

When you were both teenagers navigating your newfound feeling of love for each other in the middle of a wartorn time, you would have never anticipated a future together like this. Your two nations weren’t exactly amicable with each other. Even falling into the complicated feelings of affection and care for the other defied a century-long history of fighting. 

As opposite as you two were, you also fit together like pieces of a puzzle. You had chosen to be with him despite all odds, customs, and circumstances. It was never meant to be easy, but together you built a strong team with balance and drive. Fire and water. Warmth and coolness. Passion and gentleness. Forever intertwined.

Just as Jiung’s lips melded with yours and his hands traced the lines of your body with a touch gentler than the sweetest words, so too did your hearts race in sync with the other, souls and bodies responding in consonance. 

p1harmony taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @amara-mars,, @nyukyusnz,, @blossominghunnie,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,, @forever-atiny,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @xikskrrrs,, @cupidslovearrows,, @nicholasluvbot

[harmonyandco]

Magic itself has been interfering with any attempts for Ron to marry Hermione and for Harry to marry Ginny. Everytime they get to the wedding day disaster hits such as storms forcing a reschedule. It wasn't until magic in the wedding began to short Flux out and the Weasley family start to lose their magic did Harry and Hermione suspect something. After a tripto the Department of Myateriesthey found out that they were already married and magic is attempting to protect them from those who are trying to break them up.

via @autistic-writer

[wolfwrenweek]

The prompts for the second annual WolfWren Week (Nov 11-15) have been decided! Our theme this year is Tarot Cards, meaning each day of the event will have prompts and a card to use for inspiration. Check out our full About & Rules for more! A text version of the prompt graphic can also be found below.

DAY ONE: November 11 The Moon | Lothal UPRIGHT: Illusion, fear, anxiety, subconscious, intuition REVERSED: Release of fear, repressed emotion, inner confusion

PROMPTS: “Are you following me?” I Can Make Her Worse Fighting as Flirting Touch Starved Eye Contact Vampire AU Sparring Hatefuck

DAY TWO: November 12 The Wheel of Fortune | The Eye of Sion UPRIGHT: Good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point REVERSED: Bad luck, resistance to change, breaking cycles

PROMPTS: "You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling “Why are you looking at me like that?" Soulmate Identifying Mark Bounty Hunter AU Force Bond

DAY THREE: November 13 The Tower | Great Mothers' Fortress on Peridea UPRIGHT: Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening REVERSED: Personal transformation, fear of change, averting disaster

PROMPTS: "I'd let the world burn for you." “Don’t leave.” / “Please stay.” “I still hate you," "Good." Abandonment Issues Enemies to Lovers "I can help you." Sharing Clothes Injury/Healing Rebel Shin Cowboy AU

DAY FOUR: November 14 The Chariot | Thrawn's Star Destroyer UPRIGHT: Control, willpower, success, action, determination REVERSED: Self-discipline, opposition, lack of direction

PROMPTS: Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck To Be Loved Is To Be Changed “You came?” “You called.” "Going somewhere?” Trans Shin Hati / T4T Arranged Marriage Ancient Greece AU Body Worship Medieval AU

DAY FIVE: November 15 The Lovers | Sabine Wren / Shin Hati UPRIGHT: Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: Self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values

PROMPTS: Shin through Sabine’s POV / Sabine through Shin’s POV “It's rotten work" "not to me, not if it's you" Accidental Co-Parenting/Co-Guardians Scissor Till The Cows Come Home Oh my god they were roommates… Florist/Tattoo Artist AU Shin Learning Mando’a Return to Mandalore Love at First Bite Domestic Life Post-Peridea

You can follow along with us on Twitter/X and Instagram as well 💚🧡 If you have any questions or concerns, our ask box is open! Don't forget to add #wolfwrenweek and #wolfwrenweek2024 onto anything you create as well! All the art featured in this post was created by the lovely @sapphicsparkles, don’t forget to go check out their other work too 🗡️

[presidenthades]

Alicent and Daemon.. That's a whole pack of worms

How would they even get along enough to make 4 kids 😭

Daemon swearing up and down to despise Otto and Alicent and then marrying Alicent and fathering and targ bro's and Helaena...

It actually would be really interesting how Daemon would treat the targ bro's and Hel,where he isn't insulting them every two minutes 💀

So here’s how I would make a “Daemon and Alicent get married and have the Targbros + Helaena” fic happen.

They probably get married around the same time Alicent married in canon, maybe because Viserys realized it might not be a great idea to secretly see a 15yo girl in his rooms…and then he foists responsibility onto someone else, i.e. his brother. Instead of banishing Daemon from court, Viserys annuls the Rhea Royce marriage and tells him to marry Alicent to show harmony and friendship with Otto. Viserys marries Laena instead.

Otto is horrified. Daemon is also horrified, until he realizes Otto hates it, and then Daemon decides he’s going to use this marriage to make Otto miserable by winning Alicent over from her father. Alicent might disapprove of some of Daemon’s activities, but we see in the Episode 1 tourney that she does seem to find him attractive at least. She is probably secretly relieved not to become the queen, although marrying Daemon would also cause a lot of friction with Rhaenyra.

I doubt Daemon would be an especially good husband to Alicent, but he would keep up appearances to fuck with Otto. Alicent is probably content to maintain appearances while mostly being left alone to care for her kids. She is less stressed about her kids being murdered, because they are very far down the line of succession, and few people are willing to mess with Daemon’s children.

In my AU, I tweaked the kids’ ages so Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond are only one year apart from each other. Baby #1 is conceived quickly during the honeymoon period. Daemon names him Aegon after his deceased younger brother and the Conqueror. Daemon is happy he has a healthy son so quickly, so this might prolong the honeymoon period.

Baby #2 shows up. It’s a girl, so Daemon lets Alicent name her, as long as the name sounds Targaryen. Baby #3 is another boy, and Daemon just rearranges one letter in his name ➡️ Aemond. So creative.

Rhaenyra gives birth to Jace around the same time Aemond is born, and a few moons later Laena gives birth to Baela and Rhaena. Laena survives and the twins are healthy, but complications render Laena unable to conceive again. Viserys still has no sons, so this cements Rhaenyra’s position as heir. Velaryons are disappointed but ultimately OK with this because Laenor is married to her and already has one legitimate child, so their blood is getting on the throne.

It does not escape Daemon and Otto’s notice that the only Targaryen males of the next generation are Daemon and Alicent’s kids. When Rhaenyra’s next kid is another girl, our favorite good-son and good-father duo reluctantly cooperate to scheme how to get their blood on the throne. The obvious solution is betrothing Aegon and Jace. Alas, Viserys is still in his “keep Daemon away from the throne” era and strongly discourages Rhaenyra and the Velaryons from accepting.

Daemon and Otto are still determined to marry Aegon and Jace for the Iron Throne, and also Aemond and Luce for Driftmark. Then they realize they should have at least one more boy to marry to Baela. By this point, Alicent is no longer starry-eyed about her marriage, but she’s carved out a space for herself at court, and her kids are all safe and healthy. She’s OK with having another child (it helps that Daemon is not a rotting corpse), and so Baby #4 is born. Daemon swaps one letter in his own name ➡️ Daeron.

Rhaenyra gives birth to Joff a few moons later. She has no interest in having any more children, since childbirth is so risky. Her three daughters are the most desirable marriage prospects ever, so there’s a lot of competition, and Viserys is not in favor of the Targbros. Luckily for them, their dad and grandpa 10000% prepared to be their wingmen 😎.

Ooh I almost forgot to answer how Daemon would treat his kids!

He and Aegon bond over a love of partying and roaming around Flea Bottom. Daemon is better than Viserys at keeping Aegon in shape, because Daemon is actually paying attention to his kids and ensuring they are competitive suitors for Rhaenyra’s daughters. Aegon is more inclined to listen to a dad who takes him out to gambling dens and ale houses for father-son time.

Aemond tries very hard to be like his father, which pleases Daemon. They do a lot of sparring together and talk about Valyrian history. Since Laena is still alive, Aemond can’t have Vhagar, but Daemon might take him on a secret outing to Dragonstone so he can claim Vermithor. Even though they are similar on a surface level, father and son probably still argue a lot because their pride gets in the way.

Daeron is very happy and friendly. Daemon has no idea where he gets it from. Daeron is the baby, so Daemon indulges him like everyone else does, but he really starts paying attention after Daeron is old enough to be whacked around the training yard/thrown onto dragonback.

Daemon isn’t sure what to do with Helaena at first, but unlike Viserys, he realizes that her prophecies aren’t just nonsense. Daemon has a healthy dose of skepticism (“dreams didn’t make us conquerors, dragons did”), but he would be intrigued by the idea of his daughter being a dragon dreamer. Considering Helaena’s abilities and the fact she’s Dreamfyre’s rider, Daemon might decide it’s better not to marry her away and just keep her at home. This makes Alicent happy.