#i am clinging to this woman for dear life. the first thing i do after i die is talk to her and give her a gift. i almost cried the first

[crunchycrystals]

unironically refer to persephone in hades as my mommy bc i love her. i mean this in an extremely non sexual way in the most familial love way i do genuinely mean she is my mommy and i need her to hug me crunchycrystals irl

[literatureatthebowofnails]

A/N: Looking forward to your feedback

Series masterlist

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: Your first trip to Asgard

Warnings: Vomiting, fluff, angst

You land on Asgard, clutching Loki's arm in a death grip. Your nails dig into the black leather of his jacket, knuckles white as you fight to keep down your breakfast.

At Loki's other side, Steve Rogers grasps Thor's shoulder to steady himself. Beside you, Director Fury stands almost entirely still, the only sign of movement a slight flapping of his coat.

"Welcome to..."

"I'm going to be sick," you cut off the gatekeeper, releasing Loki and running to spill the churning contents of your stomach off the bridge.

You look up and see a grand procession approaching from further down, their guilded armor bright in the morning sun. Leading the group are four warriors: a stunning dark-haired woman, a blonde with a charming grin, a stout soldier sporting wild facial hair, and an overly serious crusader.

You wipe your mouth, feeling better but still unsteady on your feet as you return to the circular chamber. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Don't worry about it," Steve says. "I was a mess on my first visit."

"Um, thanks." You don't really believe him.

"I am Heimdall," the golden god continues, unfazed by your interlude. "Gatekeeper of Asgard, protector of the Bifrost, and seer of all things."

At this point, the entourage arrives. "May I present Lady Sif, the Warriors Three and the Einherjar," Thor makes your introductions, noting that Rogers and Fury are already acquainted with the leaders.

Three horses are presented for your journey to the palace. You perch nervously at the front of your saddle, grasping the horn for dear life. Loki swings up gracefully behind you and reaches around to control the reigns.

"It's alright, darling," he coos, wrapping an arm snuggly about your middle. "Nótt is steady and true. He will deliver us safely, I guarantee it."

You take a breath, trying not to shudder or look beyond the bridge. "It's my first time."

"And you're doing splendidly," he hugs you closer and you begin to relax as you watch Steve cling to Thor's waist.

Fury kicks his steed to a trot, joining Hogun at the head of the group.

☕

The five of you gather in an antechamber, preened and swathed in Asgardian finery. Rogers and Fury are called first, leaving to greet the court. After some time, you and Loki are announced.

He takes your hand, placing it around his arm before entering the grand golden hall. You walk side by side down the long aisle to the throne. Loki's steps are assured, his pace steady, honed jaw set in determination. The crowd claps respectfully, their observance subdued, even hesitant.

You reach the stairs below the throne and bend in a nervous curtsy. The prince gives his father a minimal bow; enough to show the necessary respect, but not a hair more.

"My son," Odin addresses Loki. You watch as his lip gives a slight twitch of irritation. "Welcome home."

"Father," comes the strained reply.

He then turns to the stately woman on your left. "Mother," he greets with a warm smile.

The queen comes to bestow a kiss on each of her son's cheeks. "It's so good to have your home." She turns to beam at you. "And you must be the gracious lady my sons speak so highly of!"

Loki provides your name and you exchange pleasantries with his parents before standing beside the queen, opposite Steve and Fury.

"Thor Odinson!" the herald bellows, followed by a roar of cheers and clapping from the crowd. The crown prince swings his hammer around, eliciting further excitement. You give Loki's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Father! Mother," Thor greets as he approaches, kneeling before the throne. "It has been too long."

"Too long indeed," Odin beams with pride for his first born. "I fear that if it were not for these mandatory check-ins, I we would never see you."

"I was here only a month ago," Thor's brows draw together in confusion before he brightens like a lightbulb. "Loki and I will make a point to visit more often." The dark-haired bother exhales a measured breath beside you. You doubt he plans to follow though with that promise.

☕

While the king reviews his youngest's contributions to Earth's safety, Queen Frigga invites you to tea.

Guiding you along a winding garden path, the matriarch asks how you and Loki are settling into your new space. She listens with interest to the explanation of your minimalist design preferences and methods taken to assimilate his more extravagant leanings.

Eventually you reach a grand birch tree. Beneath it sits a table set for two. A tiered tray boasts bite size sandwiches, petits fours, fruit, and madeleines. Small jars of curd, cream, jam, and honey surrounded it, with a heaping plate of scones and large pot of tea to complete the spread.

"I'm impressed to hear how well you collaborate with my youngest," Frigga comments as she pours your tea. "He's not always the most amiable, but he's unfeigned when it comes to you."

You smile, adding cream to cool your steaming china cup. "I think people rely too much on first impressions. Though impulsively acting superior when he feels insecure doesn't exactly help matters."

The queen nearly spills her tea, covering a smile. "That's quite an astute observation."

As your meal comes to a close, Loki appears. "I take it you're becoming better aquainted?"

"We are indeed," Frigga confirms. "I'm so glad you've finally introduced us."

"Mother," Loki smiles, "you know you're always welcome to visit Midgard."

"Maybe we should make a formal invitation?" you suggest.

Your trio walks slowly back to the palace, discussing potential opportunities for the king and queen to visit New York. A pattern forms with Loki suggesting inconsequential dates, and Frigga being forced to "remind" him they're during occasions that require the Alfather's presence onworld.

Tags in comments because I got trigger-happy posting this one 😆

Before you part ways, Loki stops a passing servant and requests they show you to his chambers, noting he requires a moment alone with his mother. You say your goodbyes to the queen until supper and her son assures he'll join you imminently.

Next Chapter

Main masterlist

[beastofburdenxo]

Tommy request where he disregards her for grace and then when the thrill of it ends he ends up regretting BUT she’s focused on helping john and reader is just so cute and caring with johns kids and john is wanting to marry her being all like “this makes sense, she and i are the same age, best friends for like YEARS now, it all fits” and Polly’s all like “cute but tommy will skin you alive” and instead of groveling tommy turns dark and is all like “you want your little shelby babies? then okay I, and only I, will give it to love” please and thank u xxx

Damn alright here we go......

Little Green Monster

After choosing Grace over you, Tommy begins to realize he messed up when you start spending time with his brother John. Tags: dark! Tommy, p in v, unprotected sex, language, multiple orgasms, slight stalking, breeding kink

Tommy chose Grace Over you And at first it really did hurt your feelings. You loved Tommy and You thought that he loved you too. Then, unexpectedly, John came into your life, and he made the pain more bearable. He needed help with all of his kids, and you had nothing else to do. The two of you grew close in time, John thinking that perhaps Tommy leaving you was a good thing. He needed a woman like you, and you were always so good and sweet to his kids.

"I think I want to marry her, Pol." John confessed to Polly. "She's just so wonderful, I don't see how Tommy could have possibly left her." Polly put down her cup of tea with a serious look on her face. "I agree John, she is lovely, but Tommy will skin you alive if he hears of your intentions. Regardless of who he chose, that little green monster will always be on his back. I do believe he regrets his decision. This whole thing will make Tommy go crazy and do something he shouldn't." John rolls his eyes, "I believe I can handle my own brother, Pol. He broke her heart! I fixed it! He can fuck right off! We are best friends, we'd be perfect married!" Tommy was in the other room and heard every word. Oh, little green monster indeed.

Tommy knew your routine and waited for you to be alone at the end of the day to say anything. He stood in the shadows outside your house, waiting for John to leave. John finally made his way home, a smirk on his face. Tommy quietly opened the door, sneaking his way in your house. "John? You forget something?" You turned around to find Tommy at your bedroom door. "Excuse you, Tommy!" Quickly wrapping yourself up in your silk robe. "What in the hell are you doing here? You can't just-" Tommy cut you off by closing the distance and pulling you into a searing kiss.

You push Tommy away with a slap. "How dare you, Tommy! I am John's girl now. You left me for Grace, so go be with her and leave me be!" Tommy grabs you and holds you up against the wall. "You know I can't do that now. You are not John's, you will always be mine and you know it. He wants to marry you and fill you up with his babies, but over my dead body, love. Deep down, you know you want my babies. You know you miss me." You can feel how hard Tommy is right now, and you will the butterflies to leave your stomach. "You know you miss me, love, especially at night. You miss me being buried inside you, clinging to me for dear life, eh? I've been the only man that could make you come, isn't that right?" Tommy purrs in your ear.

A sudden flash of anger comes across at his arrogance. "Fuck you!" Tommy just chuckles and throws you on the bed "Oh I will, love. That I will do. I've missed you so much." You try and fight him, but Tommy is much stronger, and part of you doesn't want to fight much to your disgust. His big, strong hands make their way up your legs and under your nightgown. Tommy finds what he is looking for with a pleased smile. "Well, well. Seems like you've missed me too, eh love? So wet as always for me. My good girl." He quickly undresses himself, ready to be inside you.

He pulls your legs apart and dives inside with no warning. Your back arches at the sudden intrusion. Fighting the moan that is trying to escape your mouth. Tommy growls at how well you take him. "Even your body remembers me, love. Don't you see? You are mine. All mine. Nothing compares to you, love, and I'm sorry it had to be this way. Don't fight this, sweetheart. You know it's right. I belong here. You belong underneath me." Tommy knows just how to move to get your brain to switch off. You want to say so much, but your brain won't will your mouth to move. With a particular movement of his hips, you cry out and dig your nails in his back.

"Oh, there she is, there's my girl." Tommy moans. "I know what you like, don't I? John sure as hell doesn't. Only I can get you to feel this good. Only I can get you to soak these sheets. My girl. Mine. You want shelby babies? I'll give you as many as you want. I'll keep you full and satisfied. I'll fill you till you overflow. Whenever you want it. You. Are. Mine. To. Fill." Tommy thrusts hard with every word to make his point, and the sound of his deep voice in your ear causes you to lose control and come all over him.

"Good girl. There you go. Take what you need. You've been without me too long. Well, that's over. I've got you now, don't I?" Tommy kisses you again. "Look at you all fucked out and at peace. Just how it should be. I'm gonna come so hard inside you, love. Are you ready?" All you can do is nod weakly as his confession causes you to squeeze him again. "I'll never leave you again, I promise." With one final thrust, Tommy releases inside you, the warmth causing another orgasm to escape from you. You lay there with Tommy, full and satisfied, just like he said you'd be.

[bellaswan-kinnie]

jack antonoff being messy pt. 3,546

forever icon jack antonoff has given us some earth-shaking information to commemorate the release of you're losing me on streaming and once again my understanding of the midnights album has been upended. she's truly the album that keeps on giving!!

(everything i'm about to say is speculative i realize i don't actually know this woman i just treat her music like a scholarly text)

when midnights first came out i went along with her sneaky deception that the songs were just reflections on sleepless nights from her past for the sake of a cool concept album, not really considering why she'd be fixating on past relationships and events. then when the news broke in april that it was joever, the album made so much more sense to me. i believed that taylor was reminiscing on these nights to understand why her current relationship with joe was unraveling, examining her psyche both independently of and in the context of dating. the album is her asking herself "who am i and how did i get here?"

after the revelation that you're losing me was written and recorded on december 5th, 2021, almost a year before midnights was released and a year and a half before the breakup was reported, i still think my second assessment is likely accurate, but it muddies the waters when it comes to when exactly they broke up.

i kind of always suspected that april was not the real end date of their relationship, since the announcement was largely spurred on by joe's noticeable absence from the vip tent at all of the eras tour shows. originally i assumed they had broken up just before the tour started, but now i think it was mid-late 2022, around the time midnights was finalized and then released.

(remember it took 5 months for the public to find out about their relationship in the first place. my girl can hide things when she wants to!!)

the fact that taylor didn't release you're losing me until after her breakup with joe was public tells me that she wasn't ready to admit that her and joe weren't going to make it at the time of the album's completion. she also probably didn't want to share the details publicly, since the breakup was much fresher in relation to the album's release than it typically has been in the past (also more drawn out and difficult).

labyrinth now sounds to me like it was written during a breather from the turmoil, "i thought the plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around." the lyric "oh no, i'm falling in love again" could imply a rekindling of the honeymoon phase in their relationship, a new "lavender haze" she wanted to cling onto against her better judgement. she knew there were major problems, but she had put so much time and effort into their life together that she kept trying to make it work anyway. "do i throw out everything we built or keep it?" also the consistent use of "you" in the song instead of a "him" vs. "you" situation tells me that it's about one man, not her falling in love with a new guy after a breakup.

i used to think maroon was a reflection on the relationship with jake gyllenhaal since maroon is a darker shade of red, but now i'm fully on board with it being about joe. first of all she calls the man poor again, and i can't imagine jake gyllenhaal having a roommate at that age and point in his career. the lyrics also imply a bit of infidelity on her part, "the mark they saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones," which i've theorized was a major factor in the beginning of their relationship (hiddleswift u will always be iconic).

anti-hero and dear reader show that (at least at some point) she really blamed herself for the failure of this relationship, both songs being filled with self-loathing and self-doubt. mastermind and you're losing me also reference her tendencies for scheming and people-pleasing.

you're losing me is the most explicit illustration of why they eventually broke up, but it's point of view kind of goes back and forth. she switches between past and present tense, still unsure if it's really over yet. i've seen people talk about how it was written a week after taylor visited joe in panama where he was filming a movie along with a bunch of other songs, so that time of separation must have been very eye-opening to her.

there's a lot more re-re-fathoming i'm gonna have to do but i'm understanding more and more why this album is kinda confusing in its storytelling. that woman was going through it!!!

[monroeknoxwrites]

postcanon moshang comm wip

Shang Qinghua was living within a story of his own creation and not at the same time.

The original Proud Immortal Demon Way stretched across centuries of time, his dear son Luo Binghe amassing a gargantuan harem and siring a horde of children. So technically, six years after the events of maigu ridge, he was well within the confides of the story. But things had changed, drastically in fact. Luo Binghe married only one person, all of the Cang Qiong peak lords survived, and several characters he never added to the official story walked among them. He had no more idea where this much altered story was headed than anyone else, including Shen Qingqiu.

After Mobei Jun's ascension and Shang Qinghua's aborted exit from the world, his life changed. They reconciled, developed what Shang Qinghua thought was a more harmonious, nonviolent working relationship. Unbeknownst to him, Mobei Jun had initiated a lengthy attempt at courtship. They danced around each other for a few more years, Shang Qinghua at first unwilling to accept the truth then hesitant to commit. He wanted to be with Mobei Jun—much to his surprise—but he didn't necessarily jump at the chance to be recognized as the demon king of the north's consort.

He woke in this world as an infant and floated through this new life with a sense of detachment. He was present enough to ensure his survival, cling to whatever thigh he needed to achieve that, but now… He chose to be here, abandoned his original life for this place. For Mobei Jun – though he wouldn't admit that for a while.

The transition from the role he was designated to play, from mere survival to living a life with someone else, was terrifying. He had no guidelines or parameters. He didn't know the consequences. The system remained offline since he declined the option to leave.

In the end, Mobei Jun had grabbed both his hands, knelt before him at their bedside, his towering frame now meeting him eye to eye.

"The kingdom knows what you mean to me. I would have you take your rightful place at my side."

"My king," Shang Qinghua started nervously, "I'm by your side each day."

"As a servant, as an advisor."

Shang Qinghua squirmed in Mobei Jun's hold, under his intense gaze. "Isn't that enough?"

Mobei Jun's answer was quick and resolute: "No."

"M-my king, I'm, I'm not a woman–"

"Lord Luo has not taken a woman as his official consort."

Laughter bubbled out of Shang Qinghua at that irrefutable truth, feeling hysterical. "Yes, yes. But! I don't have the parts to, um, continue your line either."

Mobei Jun raised his eyebrow a millimeter or two, which for him was the equivalent of noticeably quirking it. "I am well aware."

Color rose in Shang Qinghua's cheeks as he glanced down at the bed they shared for the past couple years.

"What about heirs?"

"Do you believe I'd die and leave you anytime soon?"

Shang Qinghua didn't know how to handle such a forthright Mobei Jun.

Not known for his patience, Mobei Jun had resorted to threats and, failing that approach, even attempted negotiating what terms Shang Qinghua needed to accept his offer of marriage. Shang Qinghua rebuffed him each time, on occasion manufacturing some emergency back on an ding peak and hiding there for a few weeks. Mobei Jun's new tactic of emotional openness was the last thing Shang Qinghua would have expected. Or know how defend against.

They had never put words to the thing between them, no declarations or confessions. It was simply understood that their feelings were the same. But Mobei Jun seemed determined to define it, officially, for all to see.

What else could Shang Qinghua do but do as his king, his perfect man, wants?

"I'm not wearing jewelry! All that cold metal and stone, it'll stick to my skin."

Mobei Jun surged forward, cupping Shang Qinghua's round face in his massive clawed hands to kiss his future consort like he wished to devour him.

Part Two

Commissions Open

[scullysexual]

Spooky Mulder's UFO Club (5)

After losing a bet, Scully is forced to join Spooky Mulder’s UFO Club. (actually it’s called The Study of Unexplained Phenomena Project, and it’s a class not a club, but whatever) Ridiculed throughout the school by students and staff alike, Scully wants to get it over with as soon as she can and come “back down to earth” when a class trip up to Alaska, to do their own investigations into the mysterious deaths of four hikers, finds them stranded with an unknown virus wreaking havoc and a woods that becomes its own entity at night, Scully realises this dumb little class packs a lot more horror than she bargained for.

It'll be some time before the next chapter is posted, I want to write a couple more before then. For the time being, enjoy what is probably my favourite chapter so far.

Chapter Four | AO3 | @today-in-fic

---

Chapter Five: Can't Help Falling In Love.

With a row all to himself on the plane, Mulder chucks his carryon bag onto the floor, splays out across the seats with his feet up, headphones on, content to just chill out for the next eight hours.

At first, nothing else really exists around him. There’s some general chattering around him that he catches just under the blare of his music, Harrison exclaiming to Reyes, and everyone else nearby, how she’s never been on a plane before and the woman behind him bitching about a co-worker to her flying partner. Everything else is just white noise as he battles a Ratatta on his Gameboy. Throwing a Pokeball at it gives him a moment to look around and his eyes land on Scully in the seat opposite him; stiff as a board, hands clutching tightly around the armrests, her eyes closed as she seems to be making an effort to slowly breath in and out. Concerned, he places his Gameboy on the tray table and tugs off his headphones. A glance at Ethan tells Mulder that the other boy was seemingly asleep, sagged against the window, eyes shut. He leans over gently patting Scully’s arm.

“You good?” Mulder asks when Scully reopens her own eyes.

“Fine,” she answers curtly. Mulder cocks his head to the side. Scully glances around, making sure nobody is in earshot as she leans in closer. “Okay, don’t tell anyone but I am terrified of flying.”

Mulder smiles sympathetically.

“You’re laughing at me…” Scully says with a pout.

“I’m not, really,” assures Mulder. He takes another look at Ethan. “Is he really asleep?”

Scully looks herself. “I think so.”

Mulder shuffles back over to his seat. “Come here, before we take off.”

Hastily unbuckling her seatbelt, Scully moves herself and her bag into the seat next to Mulder. As she refastens the seatbelt, he grabs his Gameboy off the tray and angles it so they can both see it.

“You know what this is right?” Mulder asks.

His questions earns him a punch in the arm and a look.

“Yes, I know what a Gameboy is. My younger brother has one.”

“Right.” The Ratatta caught, Mulder continues on with his task through a forest.

“What are you playing?” Scully asks.

“Pokemon,” Mulder answers with a smile.

The plane rumbles to life, getting ready to speed down the runway. Mulder keeps Scully’s attention on the game.

“You know how to play, right?”

Scully shakes her head.

“You go round battling and collecting these creatures called Pokemon. Some are based on our animals, some completely made up. You’re a trainer and you battle other trainers to win money so you can buy things like healing potions and powerups.”

The plane begins to gather speed as it ploughs down the runway, the momentum forcing them back. Scully’s attention is taken away from the game as the plane begins to lift up, she gasps, grasping the armrests and clinging on for dear life as her body grows tense.

“Hey,” Mulder says tapping her thigh and bringing her attention back to him. “It’s okay.” He takes his headphones and slips them over her head. He presses play on his Walkman and hears the faint tune of Elvis’ voice as he sings I Can’t Help Falling In Love. Scully smiles, more at ease as the plane starts to even out, and Mulder smiles back, happy his efforts have worked. The game still positioned so the two of them can see, he wanders about the forest collecting and battling as Scully watches on, asking questions. An hour into the flight, he passes the Gameboy to Scully, giving her a turn. She makes two Pokemons she attempted to catch faint and loses all the battles but she’s enjoying herself, that’s all that matters. They share snacks, listen to his War of the World’s tape as they eat dinner, and Mulder winds her up with some bizarre theory as he intended to. All in all, it’s a great flight, one made even better when, halfway through, Scully falls asleep, her head falling onto his shoulder. Mulder stares, awestruck for what feels like a long time before a huge smile whips across his face. He slips his headphones on, turning out towards the window, I Can’t Help Falling In Love playing into his ears.

Mulder blinks a couple of times, coming to. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright light coming through the window. He runs a hand over his face, jostling something next to him.

Scully. She makes a disturbed noise, shifting in her sleep in her seat, her head still against his shoulder as she gets comfortable once more.

The plane steadily drops down and Mulder looks out to see the small specs of civilisation below him.

“We’ll be landing soon,” Skinner says as he makes his way past Mulder’s seat. Mulder nods and turns to Scully, gently tapping her awake.

“Hey Scully,” he whispers. She makes a sound, awakening. “Skin-Man says we’re landing soon.”

“Uh-hmm…”

Mulder smiles. “That means you gotta awake up.”

Her eyes open, big and blue and still glazed over with sleep. She looks beautiful and Mulder looks away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Where are my glasses?” Scully asks, frowning and sitting up. She stretches as Mulder reaches forward into the basket where he’d tucked her glasses safely away earlier and hands them to her.

She takes them, thanking him, and puts them on.

“Can you see much without them?” he asks.

She nods. “But I get headaches if I don’t wear them so…” She shrugs.

It’s Mulder’s turn to nod. “I’m supposed to wear reading glasses but I don’t.” He looks away like she’s going to berate him. She doesn’t. Instead she just smiles.

“And that’s why you get headaches,” she says tapping his nose.

“Wake up, Minette,” says Skinner, not so gently tapping the boy on the arm. “We’re landing.”

Ethan startles awake, wiping the sleep away from his face and sitting up. He looks to the side of him, to where Scully should be sitting. Instead, his eyes catch to where she actually sits, next to Mulder and while Ethan can’t see her expression with her back to him, he can definitely see Mulder’s- grinning ear to ear like it’s his fucking birthday. Ethan leans back, watching them through veiled anger, seething at the sight.

“All passengers to fasten their seatbelt as we prepare for landing,” the pilot’s voice rings through the speakers.

Mulder fastens his seatbelt and looks to Scully, her expression one of anxiety again.

“You good, Scully?” he asks.

“Could I listen to your music again?”

“Of course.” As he’d done during take-off, he slips the headphones over her head again. The plane jostles slightly as it moves down. He feels her hand slip into his. Mulder looks down, seeing their hands and gives hers a reassuring squeeze as the plane fully begins its descent downwards.

[poesbeforeprose]

Chapter 2:

Four days. Four days had passed and I hadn’t seen height nor hair of this woman. I kept my head down of course, but after the mix up with her grabbing onto my arm for dear life, it struck a chord in me. The following day Keaton had teased me about it.

“You about leapt out of your skin!” He mocked.

I could do nothing but sit there and take the jokes. Even Natalie got a jab in or two. It was an embarrassing experience all in all.

Still, I stood in the kitchen of my small home staring blankly into my sink. Four days had passed and I could still feel the essence of her touch on me. The cling that lingered there, as if her nails pierced my dermis and tattooed itself there. I washed my hands again for the third time that day.

“I know bud, I have to get goin’. Someone’s gotta pay for your expensive taste.”

“Mrow.” He agreed.

Scratching him behind the ears, a sharp knock came from the front door. Jolting upright, I could see three tall, stark, looming shadows appearing from the world outside. I dropped my bag onto the counter and called out.

“Hello?”

“Lieutenant Thompson?”

Another jolt ran down my spine as I realized a few things. Most men at the station rarely addressed me by rank. The second was the sound of another voice that was gruff and slightly antagonistic. I immediately thought of Pierce. Oh no.

“Yes sir. Just a second.”

I carefully steeled myself to the coming barrage of insults and reports. I could almost feel my career slipping through my fingers. I slid open the door to face death and persecution head on.

In its stead, I saw three burly figures gathered at my door. The first, gaunt with age, a thick coat of facial hair of grey, white and black was the closest to me. The ones flanking him were roughly the same height and same build. To my left was one with a short cropped haircut in the style of a mohawk. The other was a sight to behold since everything about him was covered, especially his face. Draped around his head was a black balaclava with a tattered white skull printed on the front.

The elder spoke up, “Captain John Price. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

“Absolutely. Pleasure’s mine.” I answered quickly, hand outstretched. The introductions began.

Price gestured to his right, “Captain John MacTavish.”

“Soap.” He corrected, taking my hand in a firm grip.

Before he could even get the other word out, the grim figure left said, “Ghost.”

He kept his arms folded at first, his eyes sizing me up. A bead of sweat bristled along my neck.

“Nice to meet you all. How can I help you? Would you like to come in?”

“That won’t be necessary Lieutenant. We are actually here to pick you up.”

My guts fell to the floor again. “I’m sorry?”

“Get your things. You’re coming with us.” Ghost muttered. With that, he left.

Price grimaced then smiled a little, “You get used to him.”

I nodded, “Right. Sorry, I just needed a little more detail is all.”

Soap chimed in, “Right, long story short, you’ve been requested and us being the tenacious sort, didn’t want to wait too long.”

A polite meow came from my ankles as Diego appeared to greet our guests.

“Cute cat.” Price said, “Do you have a neighbor?”

“Uh, yeah my friend Keaton. Why? Am going to be gone long?”

Price scoffed and smiled, “Depends on how well you do.” Like Ghost before him, he too left me standing there with Soap and Diego. Soap just shrugged his shoulders.

“You get used to him too.”

———

Hours had passed. Several levels of clearance, a few curt nods and staying quiet through checkpoints, I was on a flight to an undisclosed location. This was a perfect combination for acute mental gymnastics to thrive as I initial thought I was going to be exiled, or court-martialed, and now I thought I was flat out being kidnapped.

On the flight, the three of them rarely spoke a word to one another. Just one gesture, some speaking in phrases or jokes only they knew and I sat there with my kit and bags prepped with me.

“Look, I feel like this was a big misunderstanding somehow.” I finally said.

Price chuckled, “It’s a little late for that now lad, we’re currently somewhere over the Pacific.”

“Oh, cool.” I muttered. The blood rushing out of my face.

“Need some crackers?” Soap joked. I felt like the spirit of Keaton wasn’t too far away after all. I simply shook my head.

“No, but I’ll watch an inflight movie.”

Soap just nodded in agreement and shot a look to Ghost.

“So, is anyone going to tell me where we’re going at least?”

“Classified.” Ghost uttered.

“Can anyone tell me why we’re going?” I said.

“Also classified.”

I slumped back into the seat and tried to close my eyes. Before I could drift off, I could hear Price finally speak up.

“Classified information is something we deal in a lot around here Lieutenant. Sometimes you just have to keep your head back and enjoy the ride.”

“Like a fine dame.” Soap stated flatly. Price told him to shut up with a single look.

“Excuse the Captain, sometimes his mouth doesn’t parlay with his brain before he speaks. What he means is that when orders come down to us, we simply act on it. Case in point.” He said gesturing to me. I nodded as if this made a little sense, but to be frank I still was lost.

“Right, so I’m on a mission, with three people I don’t know, who have patches I haven’t recognized but clearly you guys are pretty fuckin’ high up because most people don’t bat an eye at you.”

Soap chuckled, “Yeah, we’re kind of like rockstars. Like Nickelback.”

“The Rolling Stones.” Price added.

“Or the Beatles.” Ghost finished.

“And this is what you all do? Quips and escorts. None of you even asked my titles or past or anything. Just scooped me up.”

“Read your file.” Ghost started.

“Already knew everything we needed.” Soap said.

“Top marks, excellent shot, steady hand with a knife and certified to psychoanalyze the worst. The fact that you’re not in or wanted by Langley is beyond me.” Price brandished a folder out of nowhere and tossed it on the table between us. There, clear as day was my headshot and a small stack of papers bundled together.

Price shrugged, “Like I said, we deal in classified information so general info is pretty easy to come by. Don’t take it too personal.”

I felt a little less defeated at least, “No problem.”

A few minutes passed before any of us spoke up.

“Odie is a dumb fucking callsign.” Ghost grumbled.

———

After we landed everything began to become quite clear. I was rolled into a mission I was well under qualified for because whatever god above hated me. There was a penance on my head that I had to answer for and apparently that was being paraded around by three of the burliest jackasses this side of the Pacific. I could feel exhaustion run through my limbs as we eventually reached the safe house in some distant countryside. The location was specifically kept from me even though they already had any devices from me.

The door swung open and I strode across the threshold to be hit with the smell of a fire being stoked. Mixed with it was the faint scent of bourbon and something more. My stomach tightened when I finally pulled it all together. Task Force One-Forty-One, a distant land, and something I had stepped in. I turned my head to see her sitting by the fireplace, rifle pointed to the floor. Oh god no.

“Good morning Lieutenant.” She whispered. Her voice definitively different than our last meeting. It had almost a poisonous ichor to it. I was intoxicated instantly.

“Good morning ma’am, Captain, Sergeant, sir.” I fumbled.

The three behind me pushed me through the foyer as they made their way to the kitchen.

“Missus orders, found the doc.” Soap mentioned as he pulled some of his gear off.

I stared at her for just a moment then immediately at the floor. Some of this made sense, but would she be the type of person to drag me halfway across the world to murder me in cold blood? The knife she pulled from her hip had me thinking yes.

“Lieutenant Thompson correct? Welcome to the One Forty One.”

“Thanks, but I uh, don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“No debriefing? That’s not nice Price.” She said, casting a gaze away from me. I lowered my bags to the floor.

Price shrugged, “Figured you wanted to keep your priorities close to your chest.”

“I did. Thank you.” She said.

She stood up and strode over to me. “So you’re a surgeon. A combat medic?”

My brow furrowed, “Um, yes? I mean, sort of.”

“Have you seen combat before?” Her dark eyes cut through me. She knew the answer before I even said it. My breath caught in my throat.

“No ma’am.” I finally said.

“Figures. You probably haven’t bothered with wet work before.”

I held my gaze to match hers. “No ma’am. Never have.”

She pursed her lips at me in a pout. “You expect him to be my plus one Captain?”

She said this aloud as if disgusted and turned from me.

Price answered from the kitchen, halfway between a bite, “He’s the best one on base and you and Ghost aren’t on good terms so yes.”

I twinged internally for a moment. Were they fighting? Had they double-crossed one another? Was this a sex thing? It all felt really awkward really fast. I finally noticed that I was the only one who hadn’t gotten comfortable so I picked up my bag again.

“I’ll uh, find my room.”

“I gotcha.” Soap said, shifting out of his seat. Crumbs of a sandwich resting across his shirt.

We turned a few corners until I was driven to a room in the corner of the house. A single window was letting the moonlight creep in. A lamp was already turned on and the bunk itself was just a little larger than a twin size bed.

“Home sweet home.” Soap joked. “Never mind Nyx. You…”

“Get used to her. I know.”

Soap smiled and patted me on the shoulder, “There ya go, get comfy, lights out in ten.”

“Uh, MacTavish, Captain, sir.”

“Soap, Odie. Just Soap is fine.”

“Soap, right. Can you give me a little light on what the fuck I’m doing here? I’m just a little freaked out is all.”

He thought to turn from me, walk away and leave the business behind but he sighed and shook his head. For a moment, we were of the same age, two linked in mutual confusion.

“Cadaver needs a medic because she can’t take care of herself. She asked for you specifically. If you want to know why, ask her.” He smirked with a half grin then walked off.

So, how would she know enough about me to make such a request? Who the fuck was she to think she had this kind of control? Actually, the question was how the fuck did she have this kind of control.

I sat on my bed hearing the slow thrum of my heartbeat. I clenched my fists and unclenched them to try and calm myself. Professionals. They were all professionals at what they did and I was being pulled into whatever it is that they needed done. What she needed done. A rush of anticipation flooded through me, a cold shock of adrenaline that bounced through my stomach. To be chosen with such high regard, by peers that were obviously renowned, was something special. I just hoped to not fuck it up.

[demcnsinmymind]

He didn't want to, but still ended up flinching somewhat harshly when she suddenly raised her voice, her words cutting through the silence like a knife. Lance was pretty quick to look away for a second and awkwardly cleared his throat. When he looked back up again he was surprised to see that she was no longer standing on the opposite side of the car, was rounding it to come closer instead.

Every last cell in his body was screaming for him to immediately back off, keep that distance between them. But then his pride took over. Inspired by her bravery, which impressed him oh so much. There was something to be said about this woman. Coming closer instead of running, even after everything she'd just seen. Pressing for an answer, no matter how much he did not like that fact. She had drive. A similar determination about her. And that inspired him to cling to his own instead of just running all by himself.

"No. It wasn't" was all he said at first, still growing tenser by the minute, now holding on to her car for dear life. Because bravery or not, there really was no graceful way for him to talk himself out of this. What was he going to do, blame it on a fucking aneurysm? He kept quiet for a while, kept avoiding eye contact for as long as he could. But soon enough he figured that he had to say something at least.

"It's just that you're gonna think I'm fucking crazy, which I'm not" he muttered under his breath and more to himself until finally, he looked back at her. Utterly tired yet with a similar ferocity bubbling underneath. A need for justice.

"He had a gun" Lance began and let go of the car, tried to force his body to relax a bit more. "I know that's not exactly something strange in itself but that guy? He felt off. Then I saw the look on your face, the genuine panic there, and I got scared. Not the scared of spiders or needles kind of scared. The scared for our lives kind. And when that happens, that's never a good sign."

Another awkward pause, a shaky breath, grinding teeth.

"Things happen in situations like that. And you're right. They're not...they're not natural. It's...fuck" he cursed once and turned away, tried to get some more distance between them after all, head spinning with so many things he wanted to say. I need to go. You gotta go. Fucking run. But still. At the end of the day, he still was selfish in a way. Desperate for any sort of connection. Especially now that she seemed to know more than the average Joe.

"I am not crazy" he repeated, more firmly, looked her dead in the eye to try and make her see that he meant it. "It's not me. Something's...with me. That did that. Not natural. Not me. And it's not gonna let anyone like that guy hurt me. Or you, or anyone else who's got nothing to do with any of this, because I'm not letting it do it either. I'm not letting anyone hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. Never again. But this guy was going to hurt you. Or us. So this happened."

He knew everything he'd just said certainly sounded outright insane. Like jibberish. But that was the best he could do. And he meant it. He didn't want anyone else to die. No one innocent at least. After another short pause, he tentatively tried to gather more information from her as well.

"Your turn. Who or what's Murkoff. Why were you so scared of them?"

@mslangermann

“You can’t?” She threw back, her words hot like molten iron. Remaining calm in stressful situations was something Lynn took pride in. Having a level head when speaking with or interviewing emotionally driven people made the experience easier on everyone. It was easy to do in her work. Even easier before Temple Gate fried most of her nerve. Now the smallest things set her off, her panic jumping stages faster than she could register how it flared like a gasoline soaked fire. That fire sparked and sputtered in her chest now. 

Lynn pushed herself off of the car door and rounded the hood, closing some of the distance between them. 

“He’s dead. But what happened there wasn’t natural. No one’s head just…” She ran trembling fingers through her hair, trying to shake off the image of a crushed skull and seeping brain matter. As she was considering her next string of demands, he was already changing the subject, diverting away from the obvious elephant in the room. 

For a moment, she allowed it. If only to say: “I don’t know what they’d do.” And it was an honest answer. She was a liability, a bureaucratic and legal nightmare. Murkoff’s secrets, the ones rife with horrors beyond imagination, were rattling around in Lynn’s mind and she still walked freely. Would that type of risk be dealt with quickly? Or would they take their time? Lynn shuddered to think of the latter. 

Her focus returned to the question at hand. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

[cherriready]

Among snakes I shall dance, ch. 4: The Forget-me-nots

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Summary: Rhaenyra's firstborn finds herself surrounded by the greens and, to her misfortune, betrothed to one of them. So she begins to plan how to take them down, one by one, from the inside.

Word count: 3.5K

A/N: Buckle up, guys, the drama is here!

Feedback is appreciated! ❤️

"Don't move. Stay still, please." He pleaded still drowsily as he clung to her body and hid his face in her bare chest.

"I have to get out of bed now, Aemond." She laughed in a sigh, running her hand through his long, flowing hair. "Surely you have more important things to do than lie in bed doing nothing all day."

"That's a lie." Her husband replied as he caressed her belly covered by the sheets. "I have nothing important to do today, dear."

"You've been saying that for weeks. We've been practically in bed for almost three moons."

"So? Do you have something more important to do than to be making love to your Lord husband?" Aemond asked lifting his face and looking at his wife with a smirk. "I ask you... because if so I will let you go."

She planted a kiss on his hairline. "I'm supposed to meet your sister for a walk in the gardens, with her and her children."

"Ha! That’s fine. You can go, then" He said as he turned to the other side of the bed, feigning annoyance, and pulled the covers completely over himself, then let out a long sigh.

"Aemond..." She let out a laugh before laying down on top of him and pulling away the blanket covering his face. She found him with a huge smile sketched on his handsome features, which illuminated his face and made his gaze reflect fullness.

It was her most precious treasure, that smile that was only given to her and no one else.

Seeing him like that, feeling free of prejudices and burdens that he always carried because of who he was, was liberating, seeing him smile so brazenly, laughing and feeling the devotion he showed her day after day, were in those moments the reason she had to go ahead and fight to survive.

He was the only reason why she did not let herself fall into that dark destiny that continually stalked her, waiting to sink its claws into her and destroy her completely.

"Well, hello there." The princess whispered to him.

"Hello." Replied the man before wrapping his arms around her.

He was her safe place.

She ran one of her fingers delicately over his forehead and then his nose, ending by caressing his lips and kissing them softly. "How can I want to let you go and get out of this bed if you do these things to me?" He asked with his eyes closed, savouring that intimate moment between them.

"Because I am one of the few people you tolerate in this world, perhaps, my Lord?"

"Hm." Grimaced the young Targaryen. "You might say so."

"So you only tolerate me? You only feel that way about me? Tolerance?" The Velaryon asked, resting a hand on his chest and nudging him, all the while feigning annoyance.

"Among many other things."

"You could be more concise." He let out a laugh at the demand.

"I can show you how I feel about you." He said getting serious all of a sudden.

"Hm?" She arched an eyebrow.

"I feel security..." he murmured caressing her face. "...Confidence..." he planted a kiss on her collarbone, having sat up in bed, and sitting her on his lap. "I feel like you're my priority." He nuzzled her neck with his nose.

"Seven hells..." a shiver ran through the young woman's body, causing her to cling to his neck.

"I feel connection and acceptance with you..." He kissed her jaw, then massaged her breasts devotedly. "...I feel validation." He murmured taking her face delicately and resting his forehead with hers as they made eye contact. "And I feel-" he interrupted himself.

"What else do you feel?" She lovingly ran a finger over the scar that continued on his cheek.

"...Love." Aemond Targaryen confessed, looking shy for the first time in his life.

"Do you love me?"

"Since the day you kissed me nervously before you left."

"I thought all these years... you resented me."

"I tried." The man in the blue sapphire admitted regretfully as he took the medallion she wore around her neck between his fingers. "But I could never get to it, not completely. Not for long."

"Why?"

"Because of this." He said pointing with his face to the medallion. "Because of what it symbolized to me. Because of what it represented..."

"Us." She said for him.

Every time her gaze fell upon those two children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, she could not explain how two such innocent and good beings could be the offsprings of a being as monstrous and foul as her uncle Aegon. Surely it was because Helaena was their mother. That gentle, dreamy woman, whom she was thankful to this day was a friend - if not the only one - she had in the capital. It was good to be able to trust someone besides Aemond.

"I am glad you have come with us today, my sweet niece." The queen gave the princess a smile as the two walked through the private gardens of the Red Keep. "The children adore you."

She smiled as she watched the children run around both women. "The feeling is mutual. It's sweet to see how innocent they still are."

"One thing you end up missing, seeing the world through the eyes of innocence."

She smiled wistfully. "Indeed, your grace."

If only she could have enjoyed a little more of that innocence.

"Have you been able to communicate with Princess Rhaenyra since you stayed here?"

"Not as freely as I would like. You know, having peoples reading everything I'm about to send her doesn't give me much leeway to explain exactly how I feel."

"It must be awful, not being able to be with her right now." Helaena spoke, as she held her hand. "A child should never be separated from its mother."

"You have no idea."

"I am glad, on the other hand, to see that you are comfortable with Aemond. I haven't seen him this happy in years." Helaena nodded at her words. "He's got that same look in his eyes again that he used to have when he was a boy."

The young silver-haired princess looked at her aunt with a small smile. "I'm glad to have reconnected with him, but..."

"You would have liked it to be under different circumstances."

"Yes, honestly. He's... he's been a great support to me all these moons, I’m grateful for that."

"This is how a marriage should be." The queen commented with a tone that showed her disappointment and longing. "I am relieved to know that at least you two have the chance to have it that way. Not all marriages are happy."

"I'm sorry if I-"

"Don't apologise for finding happiness with your husband." Helaena squeezed her hand again while shaking her head. "You of all people deserve to be happy."

"But what about you, my queen?" the Velaryon asked, frowning slightly. "Don't you deserve the same? To be happy with someone you love." The young woman paused and brought both of the queen's hands to her chest, waiting for her response.

"There is nothing that would make me happier... but at the same time, if it had not been for this marriage I would not have them." Said the queen of the seven kingdoms looking at her two children, who were playing carefree. "Despite everything Aegon has put me through, despite everything bad, it is because of him that I have them. They are the most important thing I have.”

"They are indeed little blessings."

She wished with all her might that Helaena had the chance to be happy with someone who would only give her the happiness and love she deserved, not the insults and disrespect she suffered from her unpresentable, nefarious husband. If you could even call him that, since he was not very good at it, let's say.

"Lady Auntie." Little Jaehaera caught her eye, tugging at her dress gently, after having run up to the two women.

"What is it, little one?" the young woman asked her niece as she knelt down to be at her level. "Do you need anything?" she asked warmly, as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. The little girl smiled shyly at her.

"Do you know anything about flowers?" She asked as she pointed to a corner of the garden.

"I know something, but not much. Do you want to find out together if I know anything about those?"

"Yes, please, auntie." Asked the girl nodding, with a smile that showed she was missing two of her front teeth.

"All right, come on then." She stood up again and the girl took her hand, then led her to the flower bed that had so piqued her curiosity.

"Look auntie, look at the pretty flowers!" The queen's daughter exclaimed as she knelt before the flowers.

"Let me see." Said the princess kneeling in the garden as well. "Those are pretty flowers, aren't they?"

"What kind of flowers are they?" Little Jaehaera asked curiously as she caressed one of the small flowers.

"Those are called Forget-me-nots." Replied the young woman as she admired the small blue flowers before her.

"Have you seen them before?"

"Yes, I have."

"Where?"

"In Driftmark, sweetheart." The princess smiled longingly.

"Have you ever been there?"

"A long time ago." The girl's aunt whispered as she leaned over and smelled one of the little flowers.

"What are you doing here?" Asked a familiar voice behind her.

She turned and saw her best friend behind her, looking at him curiously. "Hello, my prince." She greeted him before turning her attention back to the flowers she had just found in the garden next to the castle. "I needed to escape. I couldn't- I couldn't stay there, everything is so weird and gloomy."

"Funerals are like that." A young Aemond commented as he approached his friend and crouched down next to her. "That's why you're looking at these common plants?"

"They're flowers, Aemond. My Grandmother told me they're called Forget-me-nots."

"That's a strange name for a flower."

"It's not their real name, as far as I know. I think they're called that because of what they symbolise."

"That they're some sort of reminder?" he arched an eyebrow as he looked at the blue flowers in front of them. "How could that be possible? They're just flowers."

"They look beautiful to me." She whispered with a small smile. "According to what my Lady Grandmother told me, they symbolize respect and... true love." She explained to the prince as she felt her face begin to get hot at the last words. "When you give someone these tiny blooms, it represents a promise that you will always remember them and will keep them in your thoughts, no matter what."

"Huh."

"They're my favourite flowers."

"Since when?"

"Since right now, of course." She sentenced, giving him a shy smile.

"So..." the prince spoke before plucking one of the small flowers on the ground, then standing up and offering a hand to his friend, who took it and stood up. "May I?" he asked, pointing to her hair.

"Of course, please." She nodded vigorously as she clasped her hands together in front of her and clenched them at the nerves she began to feel.

Aemond took a step closer to his niece and placed the flower behind her ear, where there was a hair clip that clung to her hair. "It looks better on you than it does on the ground."

"Why did you give me a flower?" Shyly asked the young girl.

"Because of what it symbolizes. Respect."

"Oh, just for that?" she asked with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Yes-yes, why else?" lied the Targaryen prince.

"No reason..."

"Hello, my love." Aemond greeted her once she entered the chambers they shared.

"My prince." She greeted him, resting a hand on his chest and giving him a kiss on his cheek. "I brought you something." She told him, showing him the hand she had hidden behind her back before she reached the room. "For you." She whispered handing a small bouquet of flowers to her husband.

"Ha! You found them.” He said taking the flowers his wife had brought him. "Thank you very much, sweetheart." He said placing a soft kiss on her lips.

"What do you mean I found them?" she asked curiously as she placed her hands on his waist, drawing his body to hers.

"I planted them in the garden, years ago, when I was a boy."

"But I never saw them there when we were kids, and we spent a lot of time there." She tilted her head.

"I planted them there when we came back from Driftmark, a gardener helped me. I did it in case you ever came back to the capital, so you could enjoy them on your walks." Aemond told him, holding the flowers to his nose, so he could smell them. "They remind me of you, they are beautiful, but no more beautiful than you, of course.”

"That's very sweet of you, my Lord Husband." She blurted out, touched as she hid her face in his neck. "Strangely enough they remind me of you too."

"Not by their beauty, I'm afraid.”

"Don't say that. Precisely you are, you are even more so than before. In fact..." she whispered before kissing him. "...I have never had the good fortune to be in the presence of someone as majestic and beautiful as you." She let out the compliment between small kisses planted all over her face. "You don't know how lucky I am to have you in my life, Aemond."

"I love you." He confessed to her for the first time, taking her face and kissing her fervently.

She moaned into the kiss. "And I you."

After that, someone knocked on the door, totally interrupting their intimate moment. "Come in." The prince growled with a scowl, showing his irritation.

"My Prince ." Ser Criston Cole spoke, stepping through the door. "My Princess." The Kingsguard Commander greeted them with a small bow of his head.

"Whatever is it better be important, Cole." Spoke the Targaryen, who still held his wife in his arms. They could both see the way the commander looked stunned and speechless at the scene he had encountered upon entering.

The tension between the princess and the commander was palpable, it was very obvious, Aemond realised as he saw his Lady Wife and the man who sired her sharing a strange look between them.

"Ser Criston." His attention was caught.

"I am sorry, my prince. Your mother and the Hand of the King wish to see you, as soon as possible."

"Is the reason known?"

"I'm afraid I know the same as you."

Aemond sighed and nodded. "All right." He placed a kiss on her forehead and stroked her cheek. "I'll be right back, my dear."

"I'll wait for you here." She smiled at him. "Give me this, I shall put them in water."

"Thank you." He gave a quick smile to his beloved, then disappeared out the door, leaving her alone with the Commander.

"Princess..." spoke the man who was her biological father in a strange tone.

"Yes, Commander?" The woman asked as she walked over to where the water jug and cups were.

"Does the prince make you happy?" The young woman gave the man a look.

"Considering where I am?" She asked rhetorically, looking around. "Oddly enough, yes."

I would be entirely so if I had family here by my side, she thought.

"Good." Whispered the dark-haired, dark-eyed man. "Princess." He said bowing his head again in farewell.

"Lord Commander." She said before watching him leave, closing the door behind him.

A while later, as she was getting ready to get into bed, there was another knock at the door. She got up in excitement and went to the door to open it. A huge smile was on her face, it was the first thing she wanted Aemond to see when he came in.

"My beloved husband." She smiled as she opened the door.

"Not exactly, little niece."

Her smile disappeared as she saw him leaning against the doorframe.

"Uncle." She said in a dry tone. "What do you want?"

"I was just coming to check on you and... to chat." He said as he walked past her and into the couple's chambers.

"Surely it can wait until tomorrow, whatever it is." The Velaryon folded her arms.

"Not really, my dear." Aegon said, as he took a seat in the chair where Aemond usually sat to eat next to her. "I have news and a proposition for you." He let out a small laugh as he poured himself a cup of wine. "Have a seat, please."

"I prefer to stand, thank you."

"I insist." Raised his eyebrows the usurper King as he gestured with his hand to the empty chair next to him.

"What is it you have to tell me about?"

"Your mother has made the Starks her allies. She's gotten Cregan Stark to pledge his allegiance to her, apparently."

"Of course she did, the Starks swore fealty to the true heiress twenty years ago." She said in a defiant tone.

Aegon threw his head back and let out a loud laugh. "And that's why I'm the rightful King right now, niece?

"We both know your coronation was not."

"Aha." Her uncle took a sip from his cup. "Your mother is planning something, surely claiming the throne, and we both know how that will end."

"With all the greens dead?" the young woman asked, raising her face defiantly.

"With your mother and all her bastards dead."

"Honestly, Aegon, I don't know what you're doing here telling me things I haven't heard before or that are so obvious." The young woman rested her face on her hand.

"I wanted to take advantage of my brother's absence, now that he has left the keep, to offer you a pact."

"Where has Aemond gone?" she asked in confusion at the new information she had received.

"To Storm's End, he has taken Vhagar to speak with Borros Baratheon to ensure his loyalty to us."

"The Baratheons also swore fealty to my mother, I fear it will not do much good that you have sent my husband." Said the woman as a matter of fact.

"That remains to be seen." The King gave a suspicious smile to his niece. "But now to my point, this is the pact I have for you-"

"Whatever it is, if you have to make a pact you'd better make it with my lady mother, I'm not much use to you." She folded her arms.

"If you're interested in keeping your whole family alive, no matter how insignificant they may be, it's you I have to negotiate with.”

"And what is it that I can offer you that would be of such use as to spare their lives, hm?"

"You."

"Pardon me?" She asked in confusion.

"Oh, come on." Aegon rolled his eyes, then took his niece's hand. "You know perfectly well what I want."

"Need I to remind you that I am married to your brother, uncle?"

"That shouldn't stop the two of us from getting something good out of this, should it?" he whispered as he caressed her arm with his other hand.

The young woman began to tremble at his touch. Disgust and fear began to run through her veins.

"I've been very lenient with them all these moons, we haven't done anything to them. We've left them alone, to live in peace even. They should be grateful that we have done so, plus I allowed you to marry Aemond to avoid bloodshed and unify the family... but now they are planning a coup against the crown?" Spoke the usurper as he approached the young woman, who now had her breath hitched and several tears began to gather in her eyes. "Only you can change my mind, but you have to earn it, like the good girl you were several years ago." He whispered in her ear.

She looked at him speechless. She had prayed to the gods that he wouldn't remember what he had done to her, thought he had, and that hopefully she could chalk it all up to a bad dream. But she couldn't be more wrong.

"So the decision is yours. You become my lover, you give me what I want from you whenever I want it, and I spare all of them. You decide not to be, and I will personally make you witness me kill them amidst terrible suffering."

"You are a depraved fucking monster." She whispered angrily, tears streaming down her face. He feigned gentleness and brushed them away, as he gave her a mocking smile, she turned her face away at his touch, as if it burned.

"You have until tomorrow night to make up your mind.” He said. “Or may the gods protect you.”

[oh-gods-its-a-dragon]

SAGAU but the reader is just random sassy 10 y/o that knows when to stfu and is a Geo traveller main because they made the traveller way too strong.

Extra details that i like to put in (feel free to ignore this part, or exclude some parts of this deatail)

Reader can draw at least better than artist their age

When they first got to the genshin world they were like "Oh. Wow. This couldn't get any worst" and when it did..yeah

When the archons do dumb shit, the reader stares at them with disgust and shock. Like a mix of them. Reader is like "This is the characters I pulled for!?"

But then they just accept it and just cry

Theyre horrifying when they're pissed. Like they're not the type to throw tantrums. Even if they're 10y/o, they are a 10 y/o with class.

They just stare at you. With a smiling face with veins popping on their fists and face.

And the just sigh and gives up on being angry

Quietly cries because of shitty parents guys omg 😃

It took them a while, but when seeing mondstadt characters with the exact voice,clothes, and name, they just went "Am I in genshin impact???"

Denies it at first. After a few hours, they just accept it

Fortunately does not get accused as impostor because like thats a wholeass kid

Their guardian is the Traveller, but sometimes its Zhongli because kid reader finds comfort in both of their presence.

Or maybe consider ANOTHER VERSION SAGAU ;

Reader has a charm magic, but doesn't know it because lack of self worth #cool

Is the creator, but they just somehow got the charm magic

Details!

Reader did not get accused as the impostor (because of charm magic)

The charm magic works on both gender (DOES NOT WORK WITH CHILDREN)

As a former sassy child I hope I did your first idea justice <3

----

Im just seeing this slightly grumpy, 110% done with everyone lil kid hanging around Traveler. Like all the other acolytes were maybe trying to sneak up adoption papers, but you just had other plans as you cling onto the Traveler for dear life as yall run around Teyvat.

Honestly you're just emotionally and physically attached to the Traveler at the hip once you find them. Wherever they go you're right with them.

Due to being with Traveler all the time, you may or may not clash with Paimon. Though if y'all can agree that someone is being stupid then they'll have to deal with two people coming up with ugly nicknames (with yours possibly making them break down crying bc "oh no the creator hates me--")

The characters tripping over their feet and calling you "your grace" and other variations was cool for like 10 minutes before you started laying into them for it

"Your grace this, your grace that, do you want me to call you Barbatos in the church and see how you like it?!"

"Call me your eminence one more time and I'm taking away your artifacts."

"You were already on thin ice for stealing my 50/50 three times Diluc, I have a name. Use it."

Okokok so, Imagine seeing Ei, the Electro archon, the woman with the most badsss introduction that you've ever seen in your life.

And she's just kneeling, nearly sobbing at your feet. And it just ruins it for you.

"You were such a pain to fight and for what?!"

Definitely gives off the vibe of being a kid that will throw hands if bothered but you use your words instead of your fists.

Would use your fists to fight anyone who hurts Traveler tho. Scaramouche is lucky he disappeared bcuz you had the time.

When the Traveler ends up going on adventures that they didn't think were safe for you to accompany them on (which were most of them but you were really good at using the creator title to your advantage) they dropped you off with Zhongli given that he was probably the only responsible person they knew that wasn't also swamped with like 50 other things at the same time.

At first you'd probably be a menace n call him Peepaw for a laugh but it would quickly become a term of endearment as he becomes the only positive parental figure in your life and oh no you slipped and called him dad he's malfunctioning--

He'd probably remove you from the pedestal he had you on before you landed in Teyvat. You're just a kid. He's not crazy. Even if the elements do react to you while you're upset, you're still a kid.

And now you're his kid. So the closest thing he has to a fridge is just gonna be littered with your drawings (much to your embarrassment when someone comes over and gushes even harder than he does bc they're still not over the whole creator thing)

Venti and Ei are hella jealous. And Zhongli is a lil smug but doesn't simmer on it for too long.

And on a similar note of haphazardly adopting characters, if you saw Traveler moping about their sibling, you'd immediately stand up, give them a hug, and declare yourself their new sibling no take backs. 

...And if you saw the Abyss twin? Ohhh you let then have it.

"They've been sad this entire time looking for you but you've been watching this entire time?! Do you even care?!?"

You look calm but that glare… lightning nearly strikes them. You leave the Abyss twin sobbing while going to comfort Traveler with a hug.

I forgot to mention but also I think that Traveler, from being both your main and your first vessel before the whole Isekai thing, would probably treat you like a child first Instead of a literal God.

They're more in tune with you from you keeping them around and building them for so long, so they kinda unknowingly treat you how you want to be treated from the get-go. 

-----

Aaaaa I hope you like it! Sorry I didn't get to the charm stuff this time ;v;

[pawsthec]

Vampire maid

So like, this vampire makes her way into Dimitrescu castle cus she was out in the woods at night and lost track of time so she seeks coverage before the sun rises.

She kind of just uses her vampiric magic to force open the doors and sneaks her way inside and down the corridors until she finds herself in the main foyer and suddenly this swarm of flies appears infront of her.

Cassandra: ooh~ what's this? A pretty young thing in our territory? I must try you!

Vampire: eh? Young? I already knew that I look very young for my age, but really? How young do you think I am?

Cassandra: doesn't matter! I need your fresh blood!

Vampire: *snort* fresh!? Look at me, do I look fresh to you? My flesh is clinging into my bones for dear life and my skin is as pale as milk. I can guarantee you that whatever way you eat my flesh will just be stale

Cassandra: *stands infront of the woman for a few moments just staring* you need to meet mother!

Cassandra drags the poor vampire into her mother's room before tossing her on the floor and leaving. Lady D turns around to find this 20ish year old looking woman standing up from being thrown and immediately something triggers in her brain.

Alcina: what are you!?

Vampire: aight first off, yes, I may have broken into your castle but in my defence it looked fucking abandoned but in the past few moments I have had a brunette chick threaten to consume my flesh, stare at me like I'm a ghost, throw me onto the floor after dragging me in her weird bug mass and now you ask what I am without even asking my name. Damn, you lot are rude as hell.

Alcina: what is your name then?

Vampire: John Doe, I'm joking, it's (insert old timey 1300s name) may I ask yours?

Alcina: you're not a local?

Vampire: no, I flew in about a week ago. I saw the village from a distance and thought fuck it. You didn't answer my question.

Alcina: my name is Alcina Balaur Dimitrescu and since, judging by your outfit, you are of high class you may call me Alcina or Alci as my friend used to call me

Vampire: Alci? Will you settle for Cina?

Alcina: if you are willing to tell me what you are and where you come from

Vampire: well, buckle up buttercup cus we are going to be here a while

They sit and chat for almost four hours before it's time for breakfast and Alcina asks if the vampire will join them and she agrees cus why not. That then leads to her spending the day with them and then joining the girls on a hunt at night.

Fast forward nine months and the vampire is a permanent resident.

She and Alcina are flirting with the idea of a relationship, the girl's view her as a second mother figure, the Lords don't mind her and request her presence at every family dinner and even Miranda enjoys speaking to her as they are the oldest members of the family.

To think, this wouldn't of happened if the vampire hadn't lost her umbrella on that cold December morning. It's a shame that crows tend to pick up abandoned shiny objects such as umbrella decorated in gold.

[ncitygirls]

forgive - hyunjin x f reader

angst, fluff, smut, royal au, 4.1k

to die just as one graduates to motherhood is the tragic fate of countless women of your time. though there is no shame in falling victim to eve’s curse, one does feels a deserving sense of pride in their ability to look the devil in the eye and turn one’s cheek. to crawl through the forest of death and drag oneself towards the light. many are denied the privilege of survival. living is a sign from the heavens that perhaps there is a reason for such trials. that strife is a lesson in one’s journey, a meaning to life.

but to die before bearing your husband a son is a fate you would readily accept in place of the dark nothing you nearly surrendered to. the thought drifts into your mind the moment your greatest trial and grandest reward shifts in your arms, your daughter’s wails slowly rising in pitch and frequency as you smile loftily at her bundled form in your lap. she sings a song most would call unbearable. the screech so shrill, it pierces through even the most impenetrable guard. but never through you. you could continue to find peace in the deafening sound had it not been for your husband. your dear, sweet husband.

your king.

your king, whose presence thus far escaped you. that is until he asked, just a decibel louder than the wailing infant, “could you please settle her, sweet?”

“oh,” you glance at his rigid form, across your living quarters, to find his pretty scowl trained on his heir, only softening when his eyes meet the familiar orbs of his queen. “my apologies, hyunjin. is she distracting you?”

“no,” he breathes, allowing his head to fall back on the loveseat, his sculpted cheek puffs. “it’s just annoying.”

“it?” your eyes quickly return to him, only to be met by the back of his morning paper. “i do hope you are referring to the sound itself and not to your child, my love?”

“does it matter?” he sighs, realising moments too late that the room has stilled. “my dear, i did not mean to offend.’

“of course not, your highness,” ah, ‘your highness’. you call on the title in the times you wish to hurt him most. “she is but a child, of course you meant her no offense. i ask for your mercy, sire.”

“i sense hostility in you.”

“shall I call on a nurse for you, your grace?” he wonders for a second what the reason could be before you readily come to his aid. “it is most unlike you to use sense of any kind.”

“that was out of turn-”

“me? my king, you believe it is i who is out of turn?” hyunjin knows there is no answer to such a question. because yes would present grounds for annulment and no would mean he is wrong. and kings cannot be found in the wrong. “not the new father who refers to his daughter as ‘it’? of course it is not he who is speaking out of turn, not when he is a king.

“when he is a man.”

“ah, ‘men are the source of all the world’s ailments’, must we hear excerpts from your manifesto again, my love? it is only noon,” he assumes you hear only humour in his tone and decides to take it a step further. “is it in your plans to fill the house of hwang with women just to spite me?”

“oh,” you breathe, smiling softly as he watches, “is it a son you desire, hyunjin? is that what you want?” his eyes squint as he watches his love rise to place his only heir in the cot before you glide over to him, sweetness vanishing from your eyes as you succumb to your wrath. “you want a son, king hyunjin? then give me one.”

“leave us.” the servants standing by flee the room, quick to abandon a maid who halts as hyunjin blocks her path. “take the child.”

she takes a hurried step towards your child before she is stopped once more. “take my child and i will take your hand.” the poor girl is quick to abandon her king’s direct order before fleeing the scene, closing the door as she departs.

a biting silence takes the place of the bodies that once filled the chamber, thickening every corner of the room. minutes pass before hyunjin realises you have no further interest in him. “if it were not for the fact my heart beats for you, my beloved, i too would take my leave.”

“your heart? is that what beats in your chest, hyunjin? a heart?” he scoffs, unbothered by the deflection masked by your jab. “kings are meant to rule, not jest. do not humour me.”

“was your tea cup mistaken for a bedpan?”

“i almost died, jinnie!” he withers as you tremble, your eyes misting as you try to find someone resembling your beloved in the man sat across from you. “i almost lost my life bearing you the heir you prayed for, only for you to treat her with the same regard one does a child born in illegitimacy.” he wishes to deny it, and you see it too. but your eyes are alight and hyunjin swears he sees his end in them. “she is your child, hyunjin. and should she be your only, she will wear your crown with pride and rule as well as any boy ever could.”

“i know that.” your scoff stung like a strike to the cheek and winds him like a blow to the gut. “i do. y/n, i swear it to you.”

“then perhaps you should act like it.” he finally sees what fuels your rage and rests behind your eyes: disappointment. “you cannot love me and not my kin, jin. i won’t allow it.”

“my love,” he reaches for you but you repel, moving instead to the babbling baby. “you mistake my desire for a son as a lack of joy for my daughter.” pulling your hands from the sides of the cot, he dwarfs them with his own. “i love her with everything i have in me. i swear.”

“had my father received me as you did our child, i would not believe that to be the case.”

“forgive me, my love.” you’re quick to cast your gaze elsewhere, ignoring his puppy eyed plea. “i will pray the heavens take mercy on me, but i need you to first. please believe me when i say i love her. i do. she is half of the greatest woman to ever walk this kingdom, i worship her.”

“then why? why the cold shoulder? why treat her this way?” he suddenly finds himself unable to answer, opting instead to rock the baby, basking in her glow. with a soft sigh, you raise a hand to his cheek, offering him reprieve as he burrows into your palm. “what troubles you?”

“nothing, my love.” your disbelieving gaze sends his shoulders south, his whole frame sagging. “it’s just my dealings with the courts.” of course. the courts. “i spent every night bowed in ceaseless prayer. i prayed for your health, for your life, for our child. i prayed until bruises formed on my knees, my love. and still i prayed. but as i prayed for my family, they prayed only for my successor, for a boy.” though you find it impossible, he manages to lower himself further. folding himself into you, almost in two, hiding his long face from view. “once I caught wind of their talks with the lord, i condemned it. i condemned any prayer against my wishes but the court can do as they please in their solitude and i know we do not rule on fear but after her birth, for the first time in my life? i wished we did.” it was inexplicable, the difficulty you had beholding an enraged hyunjin, the skin curving around his knuckles and jaw as they tightened with every word he uttered, your heart tightening in kind. “i wanted to make heads roll, to end them for the disregard they paid my child, my family, my wife.” it starts to make sense now, his grinding teeth and red rimmed eyes. his late and sleepless nights. the nights hypnos granted him even a slither of reprieve were spent clinging to you, a cold sweat soaking the sheets, puzzling you beyond belief. it all makes sense. “the courts have filled me with doubt. they warned of foreign enemies who would hear of our heir, of our girl. that they would see her as a sign we are weak, that we are lesser.”

“but how can they speak in such a way? we are ahead of such things.”

“my love, you must see past the likes of lord kim and baron han. the rest of the men in my court are old, and stuck in old ways. our nation has not seen a queen on the throne since the likes of my widowed great, great grandmother.” his hands cup your face, bleary eyes blinking back the tears his heavy words summoned. “i love you, y/n. and i love her. all i want is for you both to be safe. but i live in constant fear that i cannot keep you safe with enemies outside our walls and evidently within.”

“hyunjin, my love,” he settles at the soft spoken call of his name, the loving address soothing his forlorn heart. “i will burn the court to the ground before they bring harm to my kin. or to you.” it is not unlike you to let your anger consume you. in fact, it is but a facet of what made him fall in love with you. what continues to bother him is the fact he was not the first to make such a bold promise. “my love?”

“fret not, my queen,” his nimble hands gather his daughter from her cot, his lips pulling in a soft grin as the child gargles, reaching up for him. “it is just, with my brains and your ferocity, i believe this hwang might be the greatest queen- no, ruler levanter has ever seen.”

“forgive me, my love,” the apology fills the space to his left, from where your temple rests on his shoulder, fingers toying with his undershirt. “but you do not suggest that this girl will be inheriting her brains from her father-”

“watch your mouth.”

“watch it for me.”

“careful,” he warns, dropping his lips to yours for a brief peck before withdrawing but an inch, “i might just give you that son you asked for.”

“careful, or i might just let you.” your rebuttal has him fanning your lips with a breathless chortle, urging you to rise to the tips of your toes and connect your lips to his once more. when you withdraw, he follows, resting his forehead on yours, smiling softly as your eyes meet. your voice is barely a whisper as you enquire, “what do we do now, my love?”

“now, i will handle the courts,” huffing, hyunjin places a kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head, smiling as he does. “i am afraid you will just have to handle everything else.” the regret in his words do not match the smirk on his lips, though he confesses, “i do not envy you, my love.” placing the baby in the cot once more, he pulls you into his chest, resting his cheek at the uppermost point on your head. “but i will keep you both safe. i put my life on it-”

“sire,” you warn, leaning up to kiss his neck. “your life is no longer yours to wager.”

“is that so?” hyunjin only grins at your assured affirmation. “my queen, is there anything that is mine in this kingdom?”

“me.” even after all these years, hyunjin is undone by you. from your matter of fact utterance, a breathless admission of submission to your glowy eyed gaze, eyes shining with pure adoration. “i belong to you.”

“you do?” he sighs when you nod, the small bounce of your head forcing his own head up and down. his eyes and hands slowly trail down your arms stilling at your fingers. slipping his digits between yours, he raises them to his pouted lips, slowly pressing each one with a kiss so soft and so sweet, you nearly jump as he speaks. “and these? do these belong to me?”

“yes, sire.”

“good,” he breathes, joy flashing behind his eyes. “and what about this?” he whispers against your lips, his plump lips tangling with your own. only after playing with your tongue, sucking on the muscle and swallowing your whines does he ask, “is this smart mouth of yours mine?”

“all yours.”

he nods in agreement, fingers gliding down the side of your neck, dusting over your chemise to cup you over your stay. only to find you bare. “were you that hastened to join me for tea?”

“no,” you laugh, hitting his chest as he pulls you closer, enjoying feeling your near bare chest on his. “i breastfeed.” you love your king. for as slow as he is, he is twice as loving. you watch realisation dawn on him not once but twice, a slight pout stealing his lips, exaggerated by their natural downturn. “what is it?”

“i just,” he stops, laughing to himself. “i just realised these-” he cups your tender breasts, thumb barely dusting the sore nubs. “-they’re no longer mine.”

“hyunjin!” his laughter picks up before it stills, the sleeping princess nearly awoken by the delight of her parents. “no, they’re on loan.”

“that’s fine.” he sighs, ducking his head to kiss the center of your chest. “i’ll wait.”

“i’m proud of you.”

“thank you,” your pride does not last long, as he lowers his hands to cup your ass and pull you flush against him. through your chemise and slip, you feel him. all of him. he deftly slips his tongue between your gasping lips, filling your mouth in ways that force your panties to dampen, the fabric soaking with every roll of his hardening cock to your aching slit. “but this is mine,” he reminds you, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “do you understand?”

“y-yes.”

“yes, who?”

“yes, your grace.”

“good. now, go get a nurse for the princess.” the king proclaims, emphasising his point with a firm slap to your ass as you almost sprint out of the room. as you return with the nanny, you feel your heart swell to almost double its size. you find hyunjin by your daughter’s basket, a soft lullaby floating in the air as he gathers her in his long, folded arms. you watch him pass her to the nanny, his fingers passing over her puffed up knuckle, in awe of her inherent daintiness. “sleep well, my dove.”

you fear he might have forgotten you as the two leave and he stares in quiet longing. you finally approach him as his sniffles begin. “hyunjin?”

“i have missed her.” he whines, wet eyes cast skyward, guilt staining his face. “i have been a terrible father-”

“no.” your scold has his gaze falling, his shining eyes searching your frowning face. “not terrible. never terrible. just a little distant.” you soften as he nods, understanding pouring into him as you craddle his face in your palms. “you know now.”

“yeah,” he agrees, leaning to press a wet kiss to your lips. “please forgive me, my love.”

“there’s nothing to forgive.” you hum against his pouting lips, moulding your mouth with his as you try and tear him from this spell of despair. “come sit,” you whisper, guiding him towards his original seat.

when he lowers into it and feels you lower in kind, though to the ground, he frowns deeply. “i-” he stalls as you palm him through his slack breeches, fingers gripping him through the fabric. he grinds up into your closing fist, eyes squeezing shut as you momentarily silence him. the peace is short lived as he moans, realising what you’ve done to him. “i wanted to pleasure you.”

“and you will,” you quickly assure him, smirking when his frown deepens. “once i pleasure you.”

“fine.” he concedes, crossing his arms as you unfasten his breeches. you glare at him through your lashes until he huffs, stiffly raising his hips to allow you room to lower his garments down his thighs. “is there anything else i can do for you, mrs hwang?”

“that is all.” you chortle, fanning the reddened, leaking head of his cock. the sound forces a smile on his face until your tongue glides against his glistening slit. he almost chokes when you gaze up at him suddenly, eyes full of too much love for one king to fathom. “you just relax, okay?”

he can barely make himself nod as he fills your sight with his lovesick smile. “i don’t deserve you.”

“i know.” you rise to your knees to swallow his retraction, enjoying the lurid way he melts under the touch of your lips and palm. you offer languid strokes up and down his length, thumbing at his slit as he practically dribbles down himself. “jinnie, you’re making a mess.”

“‘m sorry.” the whine isn’t worrisome, but rather his second admission of guilt. with a gentle shake of your head, you raise your unsoiled hand to his lips, smearing your mingled saliva across his chin.

“i like you messy,” you admit, watching his eyes glaze over at your confession. “you’re always so proper now. you were never like that.” you squeeze him tighter at his base as you speak, dragging up the length of his cock, forcing a mewl from his throat as he releases his bitten, spit slicked lip. “remember when you were still a prince, and i just a lady?” he nods dumbly, head rolled to the side as drool pools on the corner of his mouth. “you used to fuck me in the greenhouse as it rained on a starry night. and behind the guards’ stables. even in the old maid’s quarters-”

“tha-that’s because we couldn’t anywhere else.”

“true,” you tut, wiping his chin as he fucks up into your closed fist. “yet now the kingdom is yours, you only ever fuck me in the castle.”

“but i always fuck you well.” when you just smile his hips falter, brows knitting as you massage his tensed thigh. “say it.”

“say what?”

“that i always fuck you well.”

“you do fuck me well,” you knowingly half agree, pumping him in your tight fist before he grabs your wrist. only a few seconds pass but the small fire ignited by your defiance burns for an eternity. the warm embers blazed to a full village fire when you squeeze at his base, moving to restart your ministrations. hyunjin only scoffs, clicking his tongue with a soft shake of his head. “a king’s ego should not be so dependent on his queen-”

before you can finish, his fingers cling to the base of your neck, squeezing in a way that traps the words in your throat. he feels you swallow, his dark eyes watching how you struggle to breathe. it’s dizzying. the way he eyes you, flitting between your expanding chest and gasping mouth. he presses the back of his hand to your chin, tilting your lips toward his mouth as he leans in. “it seems my ego rests on the mocking words of my smart mouthed wife,” he whispers into your open mouth, sucking softly on your bottom lip. “so, my queen, mightn’t you humour me? tell me that which i desire to hear.”

“you-” he senses an unfitting retort on your tongue and tightens his grip, marvelling at the delicious way your eyes roll back. he only loosens when theu water, gleaming in pitiful surrender. “you always fuck me well.”

“like i will now.”

“li-like you will now.”

“good,” he grins, proud of your slow but gratifying progress. helping you stand, hyunjin gathers the hem of your chemise in his fists, hiking it up to your waist before placing the fabric in your waiting hands. he feels for your undergarments, fingers gliding along the soft skin of your belly, purposely missing the waistband of your panties. he watches your breathing change with every long second he teases you, missing your sex in obvious ways. when you whine he only tuts, watching a frown kiss your features. “it’s not nice to be kept waiting, is it?”

“no,” you mumble, jutting out a full blown pout. “please touch me, hyunjin.” you too can sense your lover’s utterances before they are ever fully realised. like now, when he smirks, knuckles dusting over your throbbing heat. “properly.”

your emphasis has him chortling, the sound delighting you in ways you cannot explain. how long had it been since you had him like this? warm and open, delighted by the trivialities of foreplay. excited by your pending coitus. it brings a sudden joy to your heart, and, to your husband at least, an inexplicable grin to your bitten lips.

“what tickles you, my love?”

“i just missed you.” you confess, not too dissimilar to his earlier realisation. “i want you happy always.”

“oh,” he breathes, finally pinching your panties and sliding them down past your ankles. “one can feel nothing but joy when you are near.”

“is that so?” you hum as he pulls you to his lap, his thumb dipping into your soaking cunt before slow dragging it along your swollen clit.

“it is so,” he affirms, offering soft pecks to the taut skin of your neck. “it’s why i married you.”

“really- oh,” words stick in your throat as he dips a lone finger in you, his thumb still circling as he presses against your walls. your lips find his in your daze, somehow still embarrassed by the awe with which he regards you. your hips roll against his cramped hand, chasing the beginnings of a tightening coil in the base of your belly. “you’re still infatuated with me?”

“always.” he removes himself without leaving your lips, swallowing your taunt as he guides you onto his awaiting cock. time stills for a moment as you adjust, brain whirring as you both realise the time that has passed since you had him like this. your throbbing walls clamped around his pulsing cock. the subtle tremor of his thighs as you sink onto him, buttocks resting in his waiting palms. he offers a gentle squeeze, one of comfort and question. “can you move?” you nod against his skin, damp forehead pressed to his as he guides your motions with gentle tilts of his wrists. his tongue slips into your mouth, readily lapping at your own as you wrap your arms around his neck. his hands rise to your hips in time, guiding you with a firmer grip, enjoying the slow rock of your hips on his aching cock. he feels you squeeze around him as he sucks on your tongue, his thighs shaking with a looming orgasm. he pulls you in closer, lifting you inches in the air before leaving your slippery lips. before you can even think to protest, hyunjin snaps up into you at a steady pace, enjoying the mewls he conjures from you.

“jinnie, i’m- i-”

“it’s okay,” he groans, on his own verge of release. “it’s okay, my love. let go.”

and you do. moments later you let go, loudly soiling his lap and favourite loveseat as he fucks into your soaking cunt. seconds later he follows you, head thrown back as he releases in you, fearful of nothing but the stained upholstery as he thanks the lord above that you are his wife.

“you owe me a new chair.” he says suddenly, still panting as you pepper soft kiss along his shoulder blade. “and new breeches.”

“it is you who is to blame, sire.” he watches with a raised brow as you rest on his knees. “you always fuck me so well, how could i help myself?”

“ah, right.” he folds when you laugh, the sound forcing his hands upward, along with the corners of his lips. “forgive me, my love.”

“i love you.” you whisper instead, settling against his chest as you both ignore the compromising position you’re in. “so much.”

“and i you,” he swears. “always.”

[derangedrhythms]

Hey, do you have a quote compilation about living with a lover, that sense of a shared life, shared horror and love?

'The Shipfitters Wife' by Dorianne Laux

'To You Again' by Mary Szybist

'Parable of the Swans' by Louise Glück

'The Ache of Marriage' by Denise Levertov

'Tea' by Carol Ann Duffy

"…I don’t mean what other people mean when they speak of a home, because I don’t regard a home as a…well, as a place, a building…a house…of wood, bricks, stone. I think of a home as being a thing that two people have between them in which each can…well, nest⁠—rest⁠—live in, emotionally speaking."

— Tennessee Williams, from 'The Night of the Iguana'

". . . Isn’t it funny and lonely being together [...] No place to go except close. Shall we just love and love?"

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, from 'Tender Is the Night'

"She goes to wash and dress. I know her routine, her sounds, her movements, so well. But today I’m listening like she’s new to me. I don’t want to get used to her. I don’t want to lose her to habit."

— Jeanette Winterson, from ‘As Strong As Death’ published in ‘Eight Ghosts: The English Heritage Book of New Ghost Stories’

"Oh! yet one smile, tho' dark may lower / Around thee clouds of woe and ill, / Let me yet feel that I have power, / Mid Fate's bleak storms, to soothe thee still. / Tho' sadness be upon thy brow, / Yet let it turn, dear love, to me, / I cannot bear that thou should'st know / Sorrow I do not share with thee."

— Letitia Elizabeth Landon, from 'Six Songs of Love, Constancy, Romance, Inconstancy, Truth, and Marriage'

"That first night, in the unsteady single bed, I lay awake while you slept. I was listening to the unfamiliar noises, and thinking about the miracle of the most unfamiliar of them all – you breathing next to me."

— Jeanette Winterson, from 'Lighthousekeeping'

"It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another."

— Mary Shelley, from 'Frankenstein'

"To go to bed and to wake up again day after day besides a woman, to lie in bed with our arms around each other and drift in and out of sleep, to be with each other—not as a quick stolen pleasure, nor as a wild treat—but like sunlight, day after day in the regular course of our lives. I was discovering all the ways that love creeps into life when two selves exist closely, when two women meet."

— Audre Lorde, from 'Zami: A New Spelling of My Name'

"What else could make me completely happy but just—our being here together like this. You and I. A few feet of space between us, that’s all! [...] When two people make their own world there is something rather magical about it, don’t you think?"

— Tennessee Williams, The Magic Tower and Other One-Act Plays; from 'The Magic Tower'

"I hand you my universe and you live me / It is you whom I love today. / = I love you with all my loves / I’ll give you the forest with a little house in it with all the good things there are in my construction, you’ll live joyfully - I want you to live joyfully."

— Frida Kahlo, from 'The Diary of Frida Kahlo', tr. Barbara Crow de Toledo & Ricardo Pohlenz

"These days I can see us clinging to each other / as we are swept along by the current / I am clinging to you to keep you from / being swept away and you are clinging to me / we see the shores blurring past as we hold / each other in the rushing current / the daylight rushes unheard far above us / how long will we be swept along in the daylight / how long will we cling together in the night / and where will it carry us together"

— W. S. Merwin, 'Here Together'

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Are My Home (Geralt x Reader)

This was requested by anon. Enjoy!

The life (y/n) had it was something Geralt often envied, it was a way of living that had nothing to do with him, it was almost like she created her own magical bubble that kept her away from anything harmful, she lived in harmony with everything.

(Y/n) was a farmer's daughter, an only child and her mother passed away when she was young, a few years after she made her first step into adulthood her father also passed, so since she was a little girl her day was filled with taking care of the land and looking after the animals she so much adored. It wasn't the squeezing cow tits and cleaning out the stables that fascinated him, it was the utter bliss you could identify at the twinkle of her eyes, she was in love with her life, the bitterness and greed of the world had graced by her and left her unharmed.

(Y/n) had stumbled across Geralt at the market of the closest town of her home. She sold fruits, milk and vegetables there, still the reason why Geralt noticed wasn't her healthy goods, it was her booming voice as she shouted at a man. 

"If you lay your hands on a child again I will make sure you have no hands to do so!"

As he approached to see what all the fuss was about he saw her. Her hair was nearly pulled back and away from her face, her dress was this beautiful purple color as her hands were on her sides, one breath away from the man's face. Another thing he noticed was the child in question that hid behind her as it clinged on her legs for protection.

"He stole apples from my table"

"You want apples? Here"

She turned and took as many she could hold and started to throw them at the man. He acted out on impulse and stepped in to restrict her, she had a strong fire in her but he would hate to see the obviously taller man harm her.

"That's enough, I think you proved your point"

He said to her as he got in front of her and gently touched her forearms to make her take a few steps back.

"That low life, he almost killed the poor little boy over a few apples"

She muttered as she turned her back on Geralt and kneeled to the kids level. Her hand reached the child's face as she inspected him.

"Are you alright dear? Come with me, I have a bottle of milk for you"

He felt a bit hurt as the girl ignored his presence entirely. As the woman and the child walked over her counter, she instruced the child to sit on the stool as she passed him a bottle of milk. 

The child smiled brightly before chugging the bottle, at that moment of silent Geralt found the courage to speak up.

"I'm Geralt"

"Oh I'm sorry I got completely distracted. I am (y/n), thank you for helping me"

-

After that Geralt felt compelled by her, he would leave her for a short period of time to travel and pick up jobs, yet he always felt the need to come back to her. She was his haven, his safe space to relax, even when compared to him she was this tiny little thing she made him feel protected.

He awoke at the smell of fresh baked goods, he had come to her cottage late at night and exhausted. She only smiled in a sleepy manner and hugged him tight before helping him get into bed with her with no questions or spared words. 

At that time (y/n) walked in the bedroom with a cup in her hand. She was dressed in her white night dress and her hair was down, framing her beautiful face. She sat on his side of the bed as he sat up, the sheets falling from his torso.

"Good morning"

"I believe a good evening is more appropriate. Here, drink this"

She said as she passed the cup to him. (Y/n) loved thyme tea, she always made it for him whenever he came to visit her, the aroma of it made him feel welcomed and now he had linked that smell with her. He remembered how she rambled about how much it helps and nourishes you, he didn't remember what she said exactly but just seeing her so happy and focused on a subject about a simple thing made him smile. 

"Hmmm, what have I done to deserve you?"

He asked before taking a sip of the tea. She giggled at his teasing, he always said that to her, at first she found it funny however she was aware that Geralt thought very low of him, it made her so mad that he didn't see what she was seeing.

"It's the least I could do, you keep us safe"

"It wasn't by choice"

"No one forces you to work Geralt, you go hunting for jobs"

He didn't respond, he was well aware that she had a strong case here. After taking a few sips of the warm liquid he left the cup on the side of his bed before reaching for her hand to caress her soft warm skin. She looked at her hand in his, his skin against hers brought her goosebumps, she tried to hide her smile from him, although Geralt saw it and decided to not comment on it.

"How are things here?"

"Carina gave birth"

"Oh well she was really big last time I saw her"

"She was having a baby cow inside her, I think that's a bit normal"

They had been around enough for her to know what he wanted. She slowly crawled on her side and got under the covers with him, he smiled as he laid back down and rested his head on her breasts while his arms went around her waist bringing her as close as possible. Her fingers went up on his head, slowly caressing his long silver hair she so much adored, for a man that gets covered with monster blood ever so often his hair was soft like silk. 

His warmth made her relax even more as she took a deep inhale and closed her eyes, enjoying his natural scent tingling her nostrils, she never thought a man's smell would bring her such a calm sensation that made her muscles relax completely, the feeling was almost euphoric as she continued to run her fingers through his white mane.

Geralt enjoyed being caressed by her, after years of feeling the touch of a woman only after offering her coins he finally felt he was being cared for, it was something he thought he would never experience. Now here she was making the giant witcher melt in her arms.

"I missed you"

He whispered just enough for her to hear, (y/n) smiled before placing a kiss at the top of his head. Anyone else would laugh at the sight of the big bad witcher snuggling up on a girl and letting her wrap her legs around his torso in order to make him feel protected. She wasn't short but anyone would look small in comparison.

"I missed you too dearest"

Hearing her speak to him in such a delicate and soft way made him feel his stomach twist, in a good way of course. She was what he never knew he missed, she was the warm sun in his gloomy life.

"One day I won't have to leave you"

"One day I will put poison in your tea. Not the deathly kind, maybe paralyze you so you won't be able to leave"

His chest erupted with laughter at her snarky comment, she never phrased her sadness and displeasure when he left her, still he could sense it. It was exactly what he felt so there was a mutual understanding of how much they both hated that departure. He raised his head to look at her as she offered him a warm smile in return

"You are my home"

"Maybe one day my home won't have to slip away from me"

[volterran-wine]

Unconditional Love || Aro & Caius (HC)

Requested by Anonymous: "Could I please get some nsfw headcanons with a nonbinary soulmate for aro and caius (if just one, caius please) maybe even like...the soulmate being hesitant at first but then the kings are just super cool about it, as if it is really not a big deal at all? Thank you so much, I wish you a productive november <3"

Hello there dear Anonymous! Apologies for this taking a while to get out. But I wanted to make sure that this came across the right way and I did not unintentionally write something either insensitive or down right offensive. Things are kept quite vague in this one, so I won't say its fully in NSFW territory. But there is intimacy, rest assured.

Also, thank you so much to everyone who sent me messages about how to best write this! I greatly appreciate it.

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

𝐀𝐫𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢

Now, I personally headcanon Aro as Bisexual; so his mate being Nonbinary is something he openly accepts. (I also see many people headcanon Aro as being Nonbinary himself, and it is a characterization that is growing on me. However; once again... I'm very much a cis woman so I need to have some more talks with my NB pals to fully understand what that means both for my writing and the character. I am very open to the idea though, so if you want to imagine Aro as NB on my blog? Go right ahead!)

When his mate came to him all nervous he was prepared, after all; Aro had already seen their innermost thoughts and worries when he touched them that morning. He would hold them, reassure them; anything they needed in order to calm their worries.

Aro is a total switch, so if his mate wanted a more dominant role in the bedroom or a more submissive one he is pleased with whatever. As long as he has his mate screaming out his name one way or another at the end of the night he will be satisfied.

If there ever is a moment when his mate would begin to feel uncomfortable while being intimate, Aro would know right away. As I have mentioned in other headcanons; his gift makes him an exceptionally considerate lover. Wether it be something that feels good or bad, Aro can adjust his behavior accordingly.

"I love you, Gods-" "A-Aro" "All that you are; absolutely perfect." "I love you." "As I you."

As I have mentioned before, Aro is a phenomenal lover. The things this king can do with his hands and mouth is down right sinful, and anyone who has been in his bed sings his praises. He wants to spend hours just worshipping their body, kisses placed against trembling flesh as he does unspeakable things to them with his hands. Aro is thorough, adoring the way his partner would cling to him as he pours all that he is into loving his mate in such an intimate manner.

𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢

Now, I personally headcanon Caius as Pansexual; so he has no qualms about having a mate who is Nonbinary. He is fully aware of how certain social climates can be critical towards different groups of people nowadays; but Caius is too old for that kind of thinking. I believe vampires in general shelf away notions of preference and opinions after being immortal for a while. His mate is the love of his life no matter what in his eyes, as long as he makes them feel comfortable that's the most important thing. (I fully intend to make a post discussing my thoughts about gender, sexuality and what not when it comes to vampires, because I have many thoughts. So if that is something that interests you; do keep an eye out for that.)

One evening his mate came to him quite flustered, voicing how they were nervous about being intimate with him; due to their gender identity. His first thought was to be a bit offended, had he come across as being bothered by that sort of thing? He would quickly enough shove those thoughts away; instead reassuring his mate that he loved them, and that there was nothing to be nervous about. The two of them would go at their own pace.

This might come as a surprise to some of you, but I believe that Caius also is a Switch. He does have a preference for being the more dominant party, but he will be submissive for someone if he trusts them fully with his body. It connects with my thoughts about him being Pansexual, he doesn't see a reason for denying himself all the pleasures his immortal life can offer him.

When it comes down to the art of love making, Caius would be very vocal with his mate beforehand. I fully believe that his partners pleasure is very important to him, if he can't satisfy them he isn't being a good mate in his eyes.

"Love, tell me if I do something you don't like, alright?" "I will, Caius." "Good, I love you." "I love you too."

Listen, regardless of gender or who is taking the lead... being in Caius' bed is an experience. He always seems to know exactly where to place his hands; just how firm his fingers need to be to draw out breathless moans from his partner. There is quite a lot kisses, both gentle and rough as hands tangle in hair. Caius is like this perfect storm, all consuming. His mate would feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure all through out the night, but most of all they would feel loved and taken care of.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Letters After Dark {1942 - pt.1}

Summary: You and Bucky get to know each other after you write to him as a pen pal. Warnings: fluff WC: 1821

|| Main Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Letters After Dark Masterlist ||

February 18th 1942

Mr James Barnes 107th Infantry, Camp McCoy, Wisconsin

Dear Mr Barnes,

In all honesty I am not sure what one says to a soldier, I suppose I should begin with gratitude for your bravery - thank you. There are no words that could describe what courage you must have to risk your life so that others may live.

Mrs Sheffield, the landlady at the women’s residence here, organised this pen pal shebang and encouraged all the young ladies to pick a name from her hat. It all seems quite ridiculous now that I look at the list of suggested conversation starters, who starts off an introduction describing the shape of their nose? Suffice to say I have promptly ignored those and put the paper to better use as a fire starter instead.

I believe I should introduce myself in some sort of way and you will just have to trust that I am telling you the truth. My name is y/n and I am from Queens, New York City. I live a rather dull life so I apologise in advance if you were hoping for glamour and gossip, all I could give you is news that my neighbour has snuck a cat into the building. Pets are strictly prohibited but I won’t be the one to tell on her, it's awfully lonely in here sometimes. There are a million and one rules in this residence, sometimes I wish to break free of it and just say sod it all. Last week one young lady was evicted from the building for having her lights on after curfew, that seemed madder than a March hare don’t you think?

I should probably shut my lights out soon, it is almost curfew and god forbid I find myself evicted. What’s a good and proper woman to do on a Friday night but write letters to a man who might not even reply. I will take one suggestion from the fire starter and spritz my favourite perfume over the paper. I feel that is far more personal than describing my nose and perhaps nicer too.

If all this writing has been in vain, I once again thank you for your service and pray that you return safely to your family when this horrid war is all over.

Yours sincerely, Y/n Y/l/n

Bucky raised the page to his nose and caught the soft scent of perfume clinging to the fibres and smiled at the floral notes. He had been at Camp McCoy for little over two months and not received any mail until this letter arrived. It was quite unexpected but he was grateful to receive it.

Trying not to disturb the other trainees in his barrack, he slipped off his cot and out to the window edge, where the glow of the outdoor lamp gave him enough light to write his response. He would certainly get in trouble if he were caught out of bed so late but he was nothing if not a rebel when it came to keeping a dame's attention on him, and he had missed it since enlisting.

March 13th 1942

Miss Y/n Y/l/n c/ Martha Washington Hotel New York

Dear Miss Y/l/n,

Thank you for taking the time to write to me, it is the first letter I have received since leaving Brooklyn and though I will never admit this to anyone face to face it left me disheartened. I thought perhaps my best friend would send me one of his drawings at least but then again Steve probably could not afford the postage stamp.

I can see now how you struggled with finding the right things to talk about, it is a strange experience but perhaps it gets easier with time. I would certainly like to receive more letters from you. Your perfume smells divine and I am sure your nose suits you perfectly, whatever its shape. Mrs Sheffield sounds like an old teacher of mine, she was about as fun as watching paint dry and stricter than the commanders here.

I am beginning to think you should have sent your fire starter to me, I am still unsure what you would like to know. My chest filled with pride at the bravery you mentioned but I must admit when the lights go out at the end of the day and we all lie in our cots few of us feel brave. We hear the cries of the men missing home and missing their families but no one says anything, when the sun rises we get up and pretend nothing happened. I fear this is just the beginning, we haven’t even finished training but I imagine things will be worse when we are deployed.

I am sorry if I have ruined the image you had of us soldiers, I am in half a mind to burn this page and start again but as we have not met it almost seems easier to talk to you. I would never be able to tell anyone who actually knew me, they would certainly worry at the confession. Perhaps one day when I go home to Brooklyn we could meet or perhaps we already have, though I am sure I would remember your scent if I were to pass you in the street, it is embedded in my memory now.

I hope this letter has not scared you off, that was not my intention. I had intended to use my charm to entertain you and ensure another letter but you have struck my defences and let my buried thoughts out. If for some reason you do respond - no more writing letters after dark. I do not wish for you to be evicted. It would only add to my troubled thoughts.

Yours faithfully, Bucky

PS: my friends call me Bucky

You smiled as you read the letter and fell back onto your bed and let your imagination be filled with Bucky. You had nearly missed seeing it as whoever slipped it under your door had used far too much force and sent it all the way under your bed. It was lucky you had been looking for another pair of shoes for work or you would never have stuck your head under there.

Bucky. From the flow of his writing you knew he was definitely a ladies man, at least he was before enlisting. You felt terrible that he had no one to share his fears with and that he had to act tough because he was a soldier, but you had decided you were going to be his confessional. Despite it being lights out already, you grabbed the small torch that was supposed to be for emergencies and climbed under your blankets to write your reply.

April 7th 1942

Mr James Barnes 107th Infantry, Camp McCoy, Wisconsin

Dear Bucky,

I regret to inform you I did not heed your order and I am indeed writing this letter after dark. The post seems to be taking longer than usual and I wanted to have this sent off as soon as possible. I am grateful that there is a post office two doors down from my work so it will be heading there first thing in the morning. It will be the best part of my day before I begin the arduous work of typing up endless nonsense for Mr Stark. I do not know how the man can be called a genius when he cannot even write legibly.

I wasn’t sure what happened to these letters after you read them, whether you have anywhere to keep them or what not so I took the liberty of enclosing a handkerchief my mother gifted me. Fear not, it has not been used for anything other than to dab a few drops of my various perfumes in each corner. I would not want you to wander past me in the streets and miss me because I wore the wrong perfume for the day. It also has my name embroidered on it, the young ladies here said to give something with your name on it brings good luck to the recipient. I hope that is true, but they also say that a nip of brandy the morning after a night out dancing helps relieve the headache but that has never worked for me.

I remember my first few months here, and I know it is no comparison, but the nights were terribly lonely too. I could barely sleep hearing the cries of the other new residents but we were lucky and were able to comfort each other. I wish I could comfort you. Was that too forward? I should probably start again but since you were able to send me your letter I suppose it is only fair that I send mine. I apologise again for the smudge on the page, I thought I heard Mrs Sheffield making her rounds and scrambled to hide my torch light until her footsteps had passed. I haven’t had a rush like that since I was nearly caught sipping a chandy at my high school dance.

I should probably not tempt fate any longer and go to sleep but I just want you to know I still think you are brave. Bravery isn’t about being fearless, it's about pushing through despite your fear. Knowing that you are afraid of what's to come but that you still get out your cot each morning shows me just how brave you are. Don’t forget that, Bucky.

Yours truly, Y/n

PS: I don’t have a nickname but you can always think of one for me.

Bucky ran his fingers of the soft cotton and lace handkerchief, your name neatly embroidered in the corner. He had inhaled the feminine scents of your perfume from each corner and committed it all to memory. He had never been one to be turned on by a woman’s scent, it was mostly their touch, but yours was stirring something primal inside him. He had hidden the handkerchief in his pillow so he didn’t lose it and every time he laid his head down he caught a hint of it. His sleep had been more restful and his dreams peaceful, all thanks to you.

Despite the pain in his arms from training and the sheer exhaustion, he knew he needed to reply to your letter. Pulling himself out of his cot he crept back to his spot at the window and began to write, his wariness evaporating as his words spilled forth easier than the last letter. More confessions filled the page but your words had given him faith in you and he trusted that you would understand as he signed off and folded the page. Writing to you had become his therapy.