#having a wretched one! 👎👎👎

[harrowharkwife]

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[dr3amscap3]

𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄┊ 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊.

┊Leona Kingscholar x GN! Reader ┊Angst to Fluff ┊" I never lost hope... " ┊CW : Fluff 👎👎, Slight angst if you look, implied death. ┊Note : Part 2 to Bittersweet Parting ┊Word Count: 1074

They say that one should never let go of hope, they say to hold hope tight. Yet some say hope is but a fleeting memory of something you held on to for far too long.

"What is hope for you?" He remembers you asking, and perhaps he wanted to be a flirt, or maybe he was being honest, but his answer was "You."

Hope to many people could be a goal, it could also be an event, and to some a person. Yet people could only hope for so long til' that hope also becomes a fleeting memory of the past.

Yet perhaps Leona didn't wish for it to become a memory of the past, so he hoped til' days bled to weeks, and weeks bled to months, til' the months bled to years.

As the years passed and the seasons changed, he started to let that hope become nothing but a memory of the past that he once wished he had entertained.

His peers ask "Why are you throwing away the trinkets that [Name] gave you? Why are you acting as if they never existed?" and he would always lie saying— "I've moved on." Yet truth be told it simply hurts, it burns his heart to the very core to see what could've been, if only he would've built up the courage to say those three wretched words sooner if only he had said 'I love you', he knows he should've said those words sooner, because maybe if he did... maybe you would've stayed. But he knows all too well that he would never get to be happy, for the future of what could've been would be haunting him forever.

But perhaps deep down he still dreamt of you coming back to him, yet the world was such a twisted place and it would constantly toy with him, making him yearn for you, it made him hope that you would come back.

Yet Leona Kingscholar always found the world as a cruel and unjust place, after all, he always got the short end of it all. Life was never fair to Leona Kingscholar, it never gave him the justice he deserved... or at least what he believed he deserved, yet perhaps this time life wouldn't toy with him, maybe this time it wouldn't be so cruel to toy with his melancholy heart, perhaps this time... he could hope.

Leona Kingscholar would always lie to himself, even when he says "I've given up on hoping that they'll come back." he still hopes, deep down that flame of hope still burns inside him, and it will continue to burn forevermore. Even as his deathbed approaches, that hope still burns the brightest within that heart of his.

But perhaps it is the last words he utters before taking his final breath that will forever be engraved in the skin of time— "I never lost hope...”

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

"What the hell was that...? Hm, what a weird dream.." Leona grumbles, his alarm clock waking him from his dreamful slumber. Looking at the time he ponders on what shall he do today, perhaps going for a stroll could take his mind off of the weird dream he had. But he wonders, who was that person in his dream, the person that seemed to take his heart in their gentle grasp only for them to leave with it.

As he leaves the house to go on a stroll he can't help but continue thinking about the person in the dream, they seemed so familiar, as if he had met them once upon a time, yet he can't recall their name, he can't recall their face, but he knows he met them, he just can't remember.

As he continues to walk through the streets of Tokyo, rain starts to pour, yet something seems familiar with this setting, something seems familiar about the way the rain falls to the ground.

As he continues walking despite the rain's continuous pitter-patter on the pavement below, he catches a glimpse of something... someone. You.

And that's when he feels a sense of longing filling his chest, that's when he feels a sense of familiarity in his heart. "Excuse me... have I met you before?" He asks on a whim, his words ringing in your ears as he looks at you in disbelief. He can feel it in his bones that he has met you, he just can't remember when or where, yet he can see it in your eyes that you sense some sort of familiarity with him too, he can see the look of longing yet confusion in your eyes, your reply gives him a small ember of hope.

"I don't believe we've met before... though... you seem familiar." The way you look at him as you say those words, it makes you seem even more familiar to him.

"I'm sure we've met... I remember you from somewhere." He seems frustrated by the fact he can't seem to remember or recall, perhaps truly it was the world's way of playing tricks on him.

"Perhaps we met in another life." You joked, yet as you caught more glimpses of him he truly does seem familiar, almost as if you had loved him once upon a time.

"The name's Leona. Leona Ki—" You cut him off— "Kingscholar..." You just simply blurted it out on a whim, you didn't know where that came from. "I'm sorry that came out of nowhere, continue, please." You looked at him apologetically, yet he looked shocked— "No... you're correct, it is indeed Kingscholar."

You froze, 'How did I know, how did I just blurt out his name?' You thought as you look at Leona in shock, yet it all came together when you said— "Well uhm, the names [Name]. [Name] [Last Nam-]." He cuts you off saying your last name.

"Okay, this is getting freaky." You laughed nervously, looking at him in concern as he nods. Yet perhaps this freaky occurrence was a sign, a sign that once upon a time you two had met before.

Yet as the memories finally came back to you two, the look you gave each other said it all, the look of longing, the look of hope.

The next words you uttered to each other made a smile creep onto both of your faces.

                                             "I never lost hope...”

Did you guys miss me? I hope you guys did! I’m sorry I haven’t been active for like what a year? But I’m trying to get back into writing so let’s see. I won’t really update often, I’ll try to get requests done, only a few at a time though so let’s see! 

P.S for those who still wanna be in my tag list update your user 

Tags : @gingeywolfy @luxaryllis​ @rx-lounge​ @hmmmmmm-give-me-your-gender​ @kiriesdreamworld @gh0stbastard @blankescapades​ @mayosause @deimospheres​

[demonwebs]

hc + 👍 for a headcanon about things they like + hc + 👎 for a headcanon about things they dislike.

Thematic Headcanons.

hc + 👍 for a headcanon about things they like

secretly he has a huge sweet sooth that he tells no one about , and he especially loves fruits - can't eat them like a normal person , though , gotta drool all over himself like an absolute savage . it's required . he loves peaches most of all , but anything juice and sweet goes , second on that list is grapes , cherries and strawberries . back in the underdark , most of his diet consisted of ... you guessed it - mushrooms ! which to be fair , he does like , especially the fun side effects , but , he definitely prefers to indulge in sweeter things if he's not eating purely for sustenance . he is , admittedly , a bit of a brat when it comes to his pallor , at least by drow standards , because back in the underdark his family (unlike 99% of the population) could actually afford to import seafood and fresh fruit / vegetables from mantol derith , still , it was expensive , and definitely considered a luxury . once he got sent to the surface and realized how cheap and easy it was to get his hands on those , he quickly decided it was the only redeemable thing about this wretched sunny land .

hc + 👎 for a headcanon about things they dislike

he really , really dislikes driders . as in deep-seeded hatred , not even ... fear . fear was when he was a kid , and his matron or his sisters would threaten to 'feed him to the driders' , but eventually that morphed from just fear and dread into ... pure spite . if you meet kar'niss in game , he'll be the cruelest you've ever seen him . why ? i mean , driders are generally seen as aberrations who have failed their goddess in lolthian society , so why wouldn't he be right ? except ... it feels personal , and you'll notice it feels fucking personal every time he comes across a drider , like the very thought of their existence is offensive to him . the animosity comes from the real fear of 'shit, that could easily be me one day' , obviously , but he doesn't wanna think about that . lolth's fickle . falling into her favor is hard , falling out of it ? easy as breathing , and as one of lolth's own , he knows he's fated to be tested over and over , and he knows and has seen what that failure could mean in the flesh growing up , and it chills him to the bone to think that could be him . what terrifies him even further is that it being delivered by her yochlol handmaidens personally means his own patron would probably be the one to do it . when lolth gives him nightmares to tug at his leash , or when he happens to have a particularly bad hallucination , this is always where his mind goes to . being a drider is not just horrifying in concept alone ( i mean ... literally , the transformation lasts weeks but feels like 100 years while you go through it , and after it's done ? the pain never stops . you're a mindless beast , but just aware of yourself enough to know what has been done / is still being done to you . you're a failure and you'll be reminded of this every day while you live , and you don't even get the courtesy of death . you still have to serve the goddess who twisted into this - you don't get a saying in that ) it's very much the source of one of his deepest fear , because it represents what he's genuinely scared of : not death , failure , being stripped of everything that makes him 'useful' . so , being catastrophically altered ( losing the thing he thinks gives him most of his advantage thus value , his appearance ) , being shunned by all of drow society ( his status ? gone . his family ? gone ) , and losing any bodily autonomy he ever had to begin with . he'd be bound to lolth with no means or will to ever get out , body and soul , worse - not her chosen , her slave , the lowest of low .

[mannimarcoiscool]

*gasp* You WILL NOT piss on MEE 😡😡😈👎👎

I ask you, who suffers more than I? Who among you must withstand the infantile laments of would-be pissmancers both night and day? How much piss must I wrench from impotent failures before my followers commit my truth to memory?

Questions! Timid apologies! Simpering denials! Are these miserable wretches truly the inheritors of the Dark Piss? Are these the pissmancers that shall carry our glorious discipline into the eras to come? Perish the thought!

While I find all the aspiring pissmancers' queries maddening, there is one that routinely drives me to homicide. "Honored Worm-King, where shall we find our piss?" My response? "Other pissmancers will find your piss here!" Then, I harvest their piss in the most painful fashion imaginable.

Now, this routine did provide some small measure of personal catharsis; and I do all of Tamriel a service by winnowing the herd of deficient mages. But now, hundreds of years on, I find the entire ritual tiresome and predictable. So, I have resolved to commit this simple lesson to paper. Ignore it at your peril, worms.

Where shall you find your piss? Everywhere! All the world is a tomb. Every city, every field, and every forest in Tamriel has borne witness to countless slaughters and atrocities—some known and some forgotten. Wherever your foot finds purchase, rest assured, piss rests somewhere beneath. You need only summon up the will to call them to service. Old piss may offer some modest resistance. Time and decay make it sluggish and recalcitrant. But if you cannot bend ancient piss to your will, you have no business calling yourself a pissmancer.

So long as the living remain, so too shall piss. Finding them is a child's pursuit. Using it, though? That is the true measure of a pissmancer's power.

[just-some-random-blogger]

He scowls. He doesn’t understand why they aren’t shut away when not in Helaena’s presence. They are always laughing, it gives him a migraine. What could possibly be so funny?

mans so dry and friendless. press f to pay respect. F

Aemond’s eye widens at this. He leans forward, peering through the gap to see which of them it is. She is pretty. Beautiful, actually. He has never bothered to take the time to properly look at any of them before, usually doing his best to avoid them at all costs, but there is no denying that she is fairer than any woman he has ever looked upon. He hopes more than anything that the rest of this wretched gaggle can convince her to divulge further details.

WISH I WAS HER SO BADLY FUCK

“Oh, go on, your secret’s safe with us!”

lies though unknowing ones

“Well…we were coupling…and it felt good…I have heard that lying with a man is painful and uncomfortable, but I was enjoying it, and after…he pleasured me with his mouth…”

DANG SHE REALLY SAID THAT OUTLOUD OMG

“Were you not repulsed by it? He is disfigured after all.”

[CRIMINAL OFFENSIVE SIDE EYE]

[...] yet he cannot help replaying the words in his mind. We were coupling. It felt good. He pleasured me with his mouth. I find Prince Aemond rather dashing.

as an overthinker myself. i agree. get that record player on BLAST

We were coupling. His sword is knocked from his hand. It felt good. His shield splinters under a blow from a morningstar. He pleasured me with his mouth. He is knocked to the ground. I find Prince Aemond rather dashing. The point of Criston’s sword is at his throat.

HAHAHAHAHH I FELT THAT but idk shouldnt this up his morale or smth ???? 🤪¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk we be different ig HAHAHH

“Is everything alright, My Prince?” Criston asks with genuine concern, offering out a hand and helping Aemond back to his feet.

bruh be so fucking for real right now [bombastic side eye] boo cole boo 👎👎👎👎👎👎

“The bloodmages of Valyria used wyvern stock to create dragons…we were coupling…The bloodmages of Valyria…it felt good…”

HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IDK HE LIKE ME FR ITS SO FUNNNY

It only takes a few seconds of flicking through the pages before he finds what he’s looking for. Graphic descriptions of how women can be prepared for intercourse, and even brought to peak, via the use of lips and tongue.

His eye widens and his breathing quickens as he imagines licking her in her most intimate area. It’s only when he realises that his cock is now straining painfully against the laces of his breeches that he hurriedly places the book back on the shelf and retires to his chambers.

... i could help

In truth, he cannot keep his eyes off of her either and it is probably that that drives her to stare as she does.

yeah imagine the blonde emo staring at you id be conscious too

Acting on his new found boldness, Aemond leans down to whisper in her ear, his voice husky. “I heard what you said earlier.”

He regards her face carefully as he pulls back, but there is no apparent recollection, so he decides to be more daring. Leaning in once more he says “Just so you know, if I were going to pleasure you with my mouth, I’d do it before I stuck my cock in your cunt, not after.”

“Sweet dreams, my lady.” He calls behind him.

this but also he shudda stabbed me FUCK YOU me

Hey! could you please write something about Aemond hearing his name in a conversation, he stays at the door sure he will hear something bad but instead he hears the lady talk about her sex dreams about him

Thank you so much💙

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1400

Aemond strides down the corridor of the Red Keep, in the direction of the training yard. It is mid-morning and his schedule runs like clockwork - he has a sparring session with Ser Criston Cole in 15 minutes and fully intends to arrive early, he always does.

Raucous laughter echoes down the hallway. He catches the source of it through a crack in the solar door, which has been left ajar. Helaena’s ladies in waiting are all reclining on the couches inside, though there is no sign of the Princess which they are in service of.

He scowls. He doesn’t understand why they aren’t shut away when not in Helaena’s presence. They are always laughing, it gives him a migraine. What could possibly be so funny?

The giggles subside when one of them speaks in hushed tones. 

“I had a dream last night…about Prince Aemond.”

His ears prick up at this, his curiosity piqued, and he hovers to the left of the doorframe, so he can listen in undetected. He is certain that what is to follow will be some gruesome retelling of the One-Eyed Prince being the source of night terrors, it would not be the first time he has overheard unkind words about himself.

“Oh? Do share.” One of them pipes up.

“I-I can’t.” She stammers. “It is improper.”

Aemond’s eye widens at this. He leans forward, peering through the gap to see which of them it is. She is pretty. Beautiful, actually. He has never bothered to take the time to properly look at any of them before, usually doing his best to avoid them at all costs, but there is no denying that she is fairer than any woman he has ever looked upon. He hopes more than anything that the rest of this wretched gaggle can convince her to divulge further details.

More giggles erupt, before a voice chimes in.

“Oh, go on, your secret’s safe with us!”

“Well…we were coupling…and it felt good…I have heard that lying with a man is painful and uncomfortable, but I was enjoying it, and after…he pleasured me with his mouth…”

This is a chorus of gasps, followed by more laughing.

Aemond feels his heart hammering inside of his chest. It seems so loud he is certain the ladies in the solar will notice and catch him in the act of eavesdropping. His skin flushes hot from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. He is in utter disbelief at what he has just heard.

“Were you not repulsed by it? He is disfigured after all.”

“No.” She rebuffs. “Actually, I find Prince Aemond rather dashing…”

Aemond pushes off of the wall and hurries away. He has heard enough. He does not know how to handle the words he was just privy to. They were not meant for his ears and yet he cannot undo hearing them. What is he supposed to do with the way they have set his pulse racing? He never asked for this, had never even noticed her before today, and yet he cannot help replaying the words in his mind.

We were coupling.

It felt good.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

I find Prince Aemond rather dashing.

For the first time in his life he is late to the training yard. Ser Criston greets him with a reproachful look, before Aemond suffers through what is undoubtedly the worst sparring session he has participated in since he first took up a wooden sword as a child.

We were coupling.

His sword is knocked from his hand.

It felt good. 

His shield splinters under a blow from a morningstar.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

He is knocked to the ground.

I find Prince Aemond rather dashing.

The point of Criston’s sword is at his throat.

“Is everything alright, My Prince?” Criston asks with genuine concern, offering out a hand and helping Aemond back to his feet.

Aemond’s eye is wide, his breathing laboured, and not from the exertion of training.

“I-I think I am unwell, Cole. Please excuse me.”

He stalks back inside, seeking solace in the library. Pulling a copy of Unnatural History from the shelf, his favourite book to lose himself in, he settles into an armchair and begins to read.

“The bloodmages of Valyria used wyvern stock to create dragons…we were coupling…The bloodmages of Valyria…it felt good…”

“Seven hells!” He slams the book shut upon realising he cannot get past the first line, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

He has never heard of a man doing such a thing to a woman. Despite the vulgarity of it, he is intrigued. He places his copy of Unnatural History on the nearby table and stands, making his way towards the end of the library that contains the more salacious reading material.

He takes a quick look around to make sure the prying eyes of the maesters aren’t watching him, before scanning the shelves and selecting the tome he feels will be most relevant for what he is attempting to research.

It only takes a few seconds of flicking through the pages before he finds what he’s looking for. Graphic descriptions of how women can be prepared for intercourse, and even brought to peak, via the use of lips and tongue.

His eye widens and his breathing quickens as he imagines licking her in her most intimate area. It’s only when he realises that his cock is now straining painfully against the laces of his breeches that he hurriedly places the book back on the shelf and retires to his chambers.

He lays on his bed that afternoon, spilling into his own hand, with her name falling from his lips like an urgent prayer.

She is there at the dining table when he goes to supper that evening. It is not unusual for Helaena to invite her ladies in waiting to dine with them, and usually Aemond sits at the far end of the table, avoiding eye contact and all attempts at conversation. However, this evening feels different. Prior to tonight he had never heard her say she found him “dashing”, he had never pleasured himself to the thought of burying his face between her thighs.

Guilt blooms heavily in his chest as he takes his seat. His food remains untouched. Every time he looks up he catches her eyes upon him. Does she know? How could she?

In truth, he cannot keep his eyes off of her either and it is probably that that drives her to stare as she does.

On an ordinary evening, Aemond sips delicately at his wine throughout the meal, leaving the cup almost full by the time he leaves the table. However, tonight he finds himself draining his first and gulping greedily at the second. The calming effect it has on his nerves is most agreeable to him.

He pleasured me with his mouth.

His grip on the edge of the wooden table turns his knuckles white, as he struggles to compose himself. His sigh of relief is almost audible as the meal draws to a close and everyone begins to retire for the evening.

He catches sight of her outside of her own bedchamber door as he is returning to his. Fuelled by the confidence that two cups of wine on an empty stomach has granted him, he lengthens his strides, catching up to her before she is able to make it inside and close the door.

She turns, startled, as he grabs her arm, pulling her towards him.

“My Prince?” She asks, a hint of fear and confusion pinching her delicate features as her brow furrows slightly.

Acting on his new found boldness, Aemond leans down to whisper in her ear, his voice husky. “I heard what you said earlier.”

He regards her face carefully as he pulls back, but there is no apparent recollection, so he decides to be more daring. Leaning in once more he says “Just so you know, if I were going to pleasure you with my mouth, I’d do it before I stuck my cock in your cunt, not after.”

He lets her go and walks away with a smirk. When he chances a glance back over his shoulder and sees that she is still frozen in place, her mouth agape, he knows that she knows exactly what he is talking about and his words have had the desired effect.

“Sweet dreams, my lady.” He calls behind him.

[1986omega]

𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄  𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

SPICE.    nutmeg .

WEATHER.     cold rainy nights , the smell of the ocean carried by howling winds . PRIMARY  COLOUR.     blue . COLOUR  OF  THE  SKY.     grey . MAGICAL  POWER.   to manifest the ideal self of any person whom he writes about , whether that ‘self’ is a god, monster or a simple maiden .  his understanding of the human condition is such that his writing would allow his subject to grow from a mere ‘human being’ to a ‘main character’ .  however his pride would never allow for the subject of his work to become their ‘ideal self’ so easily .  Also , his terrible personality prevents him from writing so elegantly about anyone who doesn’t incite a deep lust within him . SHOE.     well worn leather school shoes , the toes and soles scuffed from the dragging of one’s feet . HOUSEPLANT.  “bah , another wretched life to care for??” BLADE  WEAPON.     a simple letter opener , his mothers ... SCHOOL  SUBJECT.    english (ik he’s danish but u know what i mean) SOCIAL  MEDIA.    twitter , he loves to start fights and hates people speaking about relationships on a public platform more than anything in the world .  he rarely interacts with fans of his works but he is constantly name searching himself to feed his ego . MAKEUP  PRODUCT.   subtle eyeliner . CANDY.    black liquorice . TANGIBLE  FEAR.     he has no true fears , having lived a full life with not a single desire fulfilled , he lives purely to write .  and write he does , not on his own experiences but on those he has observed .  if he were forced to pick something , it would be to be stuck amongst boring people . ICE  CUBE  SHAPE.     gas station ice . METHOD  OF  LONG-DISTANCE  TRAVEL.    trains , though travelling by ship is immensely more inspiring , he gets terrible sea sickness ...  trains are the next best thing . ART  STYLE.    anything that depicts his works . MYTHOLOGICAL  CREATURE.    a mermaid , the centrepiece of his most acclaimed story . HISTORICAL  PERIOD.  the 19th century PIECE  OF  STATIONARY.   a fountain pen , the nib slightly bent and the paint peeling away . THREE  EMOJIS.     👎,  🤢, 🤮 CELESTIAL  BODY.   neptune

tagged by: @viivyre thank u !! tagging: @sakuraiden , @ethaer​ , @kvckass​ & whoever else wants to do it