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#it's so out of the realm of possibilities but let me have it
darkwing-ramblings · 3 days
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What makes a happy silmaril?
For context we must consider that the silmarils are written as living is not intelligent beings in a way and that they were derived of trees and so are a probable never-before-seen-gem-plant-hybrid-creature-with-opinions-just-no-mobility. Also I am @darkwinganimus by another name, to be clear, and this moves a previous discussion @eri-pl and I were having in the replies of one of their posts over to a format with no restrictively frustrating word limitation.
As @eri-pl puts in their Silmarillion reread part 6: "They loked like diamonds, so canonically white-ish. their fire is made of mixed Treelight, so I would assume warm white is canon.
They shone like stars of Varda but had real life inside — I really need this in English! OK, I googled it.
OH. Something else but: "he pondered how the light of the Trees, the glory of the Blessed Realm, might be preserved imperishable" — It may be me jumping on things + Tolkien's poetical wording, but this seems like a strong suggestion of "Fefe wanted to jump higher than his head" (he was not the first one) and sheds a light (pun intended) on his sttitude towards the Silmarils later.
Anyway back to that part about life: "and yet, as were they indeed living things, they rejoiced in light" So they are living things, not just "like" living things. Silmarills = baby Trees is canon! (OK, somewhat canon? but they *are* alive, and by logic they must be bred not made-in-the-strict-sense by Feanor)
So they glow by themselves with warm white, but also they are iridescent like diamonds. Beautiful indeed."
(Opinions such as disliking Morgoth then Carcaroth enough to burn him when the former wore them in his underground torture fortress Angband and the latter rudely ate them).
Anyway, the discussion points I actually want to raise are below, now that the nature of the silmarils are established as probably-living- beyond the possibility of poetic and figurative language along those veins merely sounding cool- is explained:
@eri-pl Hmm, okay, so per your reply attached to this post "Melkor (to be precise this was his name at that point :D ) wanted to kill Feanor anyway. He thought Feanor would be home too, iirc from the book. And still, Fefe could have worn them to a well-guarded situations, at least. But he was too paranoid." let's imagine Feanor takes the measure of no vault and just wears the silmarils everywhere, because he's pretty sure no one else distrusts Melkor enough to be sufficiently on guard. Melkor now has no reason to attack Formenos during the party so I don't know waits to ambush Feanor travelling on the road back from it, directing Ungoliant at the trees for a distraction etc and stealing the silmarils+killing Feanor as planned. Good for Melkor he achieves all his goals.
I humbly ask how this then might end up in your opinion better for the silmarils in question, aside from more time outside out and about Aman in sun years per your "Feanor wearing them might have ended up better for them anyway. At least he could have worn them to well-defended occasions (like That One Party), but he didn't because he was paranoid about the normal Valar too.". Because without Feanor and with Finwe alive there a question of if the flight of the noldor even happens afterwards- which they were agitating let's assume so and skip the how-that-happens/goes for now- and about the oath.
Now the oath is terrible for most beings involved, yes, but is it terrible for the silmarils themselves? It's a force of dedicated warriors specifically trying to retrieve them from Melkor their evil abductor- a force of dedicated warriors who make their retrieval from Morgoth so fraught a topic Thingol invokes it in an arguably rash and spur of the moment to Beren arguably meaning "I-would-see-you-dead-before-I-give-permission-for-you-to-marry-my-beloved-daughter-go-die-to-Morgoth-and/or-the-feanorians-over-a-silmaril".
It sees one of them get out of Angband in the hands of Beren and Luthien and enjoy free-range-ish years in the open then ultimately make it to Earendil upon Vingilot's prow. Earendil and Elwing's arrival with said stolen silmaril also helps petition aid from the valar in the war of wrath successfully leading to one ending up in the ocean (not terrible for pseudo-plant-gem-creatures as an environment) and a random volcano that maybe also got swallowed by the sea (at least there's no Melkor and it has possible gem-friends in its volcano). If there is no oath all of the latter is in question and whilst things could end better for the silmarils probably (and definitely those who died because of the oath on both sides, but that's not the focus here) they could also end up worse.
Now, Feanor's son's swear the oath of their own initiative when he begins to but on their own with him dead it's not exactly assured say Kanafinwe is going to see to it a very similar one is made.
I understand entirely that it is a lot of words however so won't be offended if you'd rather call it a day/don't actually read this all. Either way putting it together in one place has pleased me greatly whether any response, staggered yay or nay, results.
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fisheito · 1 year
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"Who ordered the ugliest effing skirt I've ever seen"
-kuya (1956)
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saturnsuv · 11 months
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return of the relationship anxiety
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subconsciousmysteries · 11 months
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idk what to do about the 4s man. They're either really whiny manipulators and groomers (4 -> 2) or they are bona fide psychopaths (4 -> 1 false security) or they are an ungodly combination of both.
In fiction I've seen good examples of 4s but in reality I struggle not to blame them for all the world's problems. There are reasons.
#Don't make me say it don't make me say it#ISRAEL is what happens when people lose touch with holy origin#On top of this I've just never met a 4 who didn't turn out to be a horrible person#Totally self absorbed fake deep turning everyone they claim to love into a degrading caricature#Controlling the identities of everyone close to them and seeing it as betrayal if you don't let them be dictators of who you are#And/or if you don't feed their first world navel gazing delusions. About how they're trans or non binary or how they have superpowers#All of this Whilst playing the victim of the world#My friend suggested once that the purpose of 4s is to create suffering in this realm and teach us all what suffering is#Couldn't agree more lol. Enneatypes are all a construct of the matrix anyways#And the whole reason this matrix exists is so we can learn what suffering in a predator / prey world is#So there has to be 4s#I mean I can see the evil of all types but none are quite as cancerous and malignant 4#Another thing I notice with 4s is their brand of evil is particularly about worshipping the matrix#Like... theirs is the evil that makes you identify with the roles you are playing in the simulation as if it's your true self#They all get so triggered by real spiritualism which sees infinite possibilities for who you could be (as opposed to seeing fate / destiny)#Real spiritualism sees that all is one and we are everything all at once and our current identity is just a costume we're wearing#They dismiss that reality as stupid 7 talk#All is one is also 9 talk... 9s who they worship their broken ideal of... But anyways#The need to believe one has a fixed rigid identity they can never change is most intense in 4s#There is a real resistance of anything which may transform them#Because to 4s a transformation is seen as a betrayal of my True Self tm#Which the 4 doesn't realize isn't a true self... It's an artificial self-image you've constructed and trapped urself in#I'm keen to meet good 4s but I still believe there is something specially worse about 4 evil compared to everyone else's evil#Hey you guys got what you wanted you really are special#Anyways I do believe we have something innately unique about us on a spirit / soul level. and seeking what that is is important#But no 4 I've ever met is close to capturing what that is#They're too caught up in shallow worldly indicators of identity. They are always mistaking our worldly costumes for our essence.#Then strutting around like geniuses who are more enlightened than everyone. It's quite disgusting
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mcmansionhell · 8 months
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we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven
Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.
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Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.
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It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.
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The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.
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It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.
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And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.
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Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.
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A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.
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Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.
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At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.
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And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.
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ozzgin · 2 months
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hear me out okayy imagine house full of obsessed monster x clueless human reader
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I hear you alright. 👀 Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, stalking
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You had been selected for an exchange program organized by the monster realm: one human to live with monsters, and one monster to walk among humans. They called it a cultural exchange.
Of course, you only found out about it after being kidnapped from your apartment. You thought you'd been taken by some mad serial killer and begged for mercy, until they finally dropped you before a regular looking office desk.
"Why the hell is the human so pale? What did you do?"
The monster lackeys fidgeted and mumbled some barely audible excuse. A slime creature poured you some coffee, and you gawked in confusion. The horned beast at the other side of the table seemed to realize his mistake.
"...They didn't tell you anything, did they?"
You shook your head in denial. To their defense, they'd never dealt with a human before. They must've gotten too flustered in the process, forgetting to speak. Or something along that line. You waved your hand, accepting their explanation, then probed for more details.
The whole ordeal is really mostly meant to satisfy their own curiosity towards humans, but they obviously couldn't express it so crassly to you. It's an exchange, you see. You, too, get to learn about monster customs, from the comfort of a shared home.
Thus, for the indefinite future, you'll be living with several creatures as roommates. You have been provided with your own room, naturally, in order to ensure your privacy.
Then again, how much privacy can one possibly get when surrounded by horny, deliriously infatuated creatures? Your underwear occasionally goes missing. You swear you feel watched every time you shower. And even more bizarre, you sometimes wake up to find a sticky film covering your pillow.
It must be anxiety. It was such a sudden change, after all. That's what the monstrous mates tell you in a sweet, caring voice. You appreciate their involvement, completely oblivious to the perversions taking place behind your back. Even the organizer couldn't foresee the unhinged thirst these beasts have for you. He didn't intend to ship you off as a wet dream to a pack of monsters.
"Is this alright, you think?" you ask, doing a little spin in the living room in order to show the chosen outfit from different angles.
The monsters shift slightly in their seats. If they were to be entirely transparent, you'd look much better stuffed with their appendages, pressed between them, coated in their fluids.
"Looks great", one of them manages to mumble, somewhat feverish. He let his mind wander too much.
"By the way, what were you doing last night? I could hear you saying my name repeatedly from your room."
The creature visibly tenses up.
"I was...I was practicing. It's a little hard to pronounce your name, you know? Being human and all..."
"Why didn't you just say so? I can help you with it. We'll practice until you finish properly", you declare with an innocent smile.
God. Keeping their hands off is becoming harder by the day.
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[More Monsters]
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cursed-peanut · 3 months
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Before Sukuna was defeated, he hid your identity from history as well as he could. He wanted to make sure his beloved lover was never found by the sorcerers. However, after his death, no one was there to stop you from being found and sealed.
They would have killed you, but the love poetry and letters Sukuna had written to you was proof that you were his only weak point, so you were sealed in the fear that Sukuna could possibly return centuries later and you could be used to calm him as a back up.
Centuries later and the ancient sorcerers were right. The fearful King of Curses was revived and the higher ups of the Jujutsu world wanted Itadori Yuji executed for being his vessel.
However, Gojo Satoru had other plans.
Your prison realm was stored away deep within Jujutsu High, and he knew exactly where you were and how to unseal you.
“Where…am I? Who- who are you?”
“You are currently at Jujutsu High, a school that trains young sorcerers for the world ahead of them. And I am Gojo Satoru, a teacher here at Jujutsu High and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. But don’t worry, I didn’t unseal you to hurt you.”
“What did you unseal me for then?” You have no clue what he’s talking about. You’ve been stuck in a cube for what felt like — and was — many many centuries. And this strange man with white hair and a blindfold is telling you about things you barely understand. Your head is spinning.
“I wanted to reunite you with someone.” The man turns around, waiting for you to follow. “Are you coming?”
“How do I know you won’t kill me?” You say shakily, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You’re so unbelievably scared.
“I won’t. I just want to bring you to someone you know. Someone you love. Sound good?” He finally turns to face you again. Even though he’s blindfolded, it’s like he can see you shaking on the floor.
You wearily bring yourself to your feet and purse your lips. “…okay.”
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Gojo: Hey, Yuji. I’m with someone
I’d like you to meet. Meet me at
the training field in 20 mins.
Yuji: Okay! See you soon Sensei.
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The walk to the training field felt long but also fascinating. Everything around you was so new! How long had you been in that cube? You’re pulled from your wonder when you see someone sitting on a step by the field. His fluffy pink hair reminds you so much of Sukuna it makes your heart break. You miss him so much. Perhaps Gojo has taken you to meet his descendant?
“Ah, Sensei! Who did you want me to meet?”
“Hello Yuji! I wanted to introduce you to someone very important. Say hello to L/N Y/N!”
“Oh, hello Mx. L/N! I’m Itadori Yuji.” He gives you a bright smile and a firm handshake.
“Hello…” There’s a beat of silence before Itadori turns to his teacher.
“So, why’d you want me to meet this person?-“
“How is Sukuna right now?” You perk up at this. Did he just say Sukuna? Was this kid Sukuna? No, definitely not. Then what…
“Huh? Well, he’s completely slient for once. It’s actually quite refreshing to not have his constant nagging- why’d you ask?” Suddenly an eye and a mouth apear under Itadori’s left eye.
“Y/N…”
“Huh- hey!” Itadori slaps his cheek to stop Sukuna from freaking you out.
“It’s okay, Yuji. Let it happen.”
“But-“
“Sukuna?” Itadori’s confusion intensifies when he sees you tearing up. Not out of sadness, but rather happiness and confusion. Just who are you?
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Please don’t copy or take as your own. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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swordgrace · 3 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒.
༆ jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader.
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SYNOPSIS: as lady-in-waiting to rhaenyra targaryen, you find that her eldest son, jacaerys, is the only true friend and comfort you have amidst a brewing war that threatens to tear the realm apart.
note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen.
༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.
༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.
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{ FORMAT: one shot — requested.
{ WORD COUNT: 11.5K (this is a long one, not sorry!)
{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, inexperience from both reader & jace, loss of virginity (mutual), first time sexual experiences, sexual tension, p in v sex (unprotected), missionary position, lots of kissing and sweeter antics, slight risk of getting caught, oral sex (fem!receiving), handjob, fingering, hair pulling kink, brief overstimulation, tiddy sucking, this whole thing is soft & sweet smut, nothing disgusting here, jacaerys is the epitome of a perfect lover :))
{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am lowkey transitioning into becoming a Jace girl, I absolutely love him and I’m really enjoying where his character is going! This was a request from an anon user who wanted something freeform! I hope you all enjoy it, thanks so much for all of the recent love & support for my work! It makes me so happy! ❤️
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𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒, harkened in from the gentle roll of the tides. Saltwater and dampened rock filled your nostrils, aided by the fluttering breeze as it danced across the obsidian cliffs of Dragonstone.
The castle stood the testament of time, a monolith to the rule of the Targaryens. It loomed overhead, less frightening in the lighter hours, blanketed by glittering rays of sunlight. A cloudless day — good for sailing, you thought, as vessels ushered in goods to the shoddy harbor below.
Beneath the vibrancy of a cloudless sky, you could see the shadow of a dragon soaring overhead — the Princess Rhaenys, from the horned shape above. You cupped your hand around your eyes, squinting to see, constantly mesmerized by such creatures.
In your fantastical dreams, you flew upon the back of a dragon, letting the wind scrape across your visage, feeling the weight of something so powerful beneath you. Of course, you were neither Targaryen nor Velaryon — possessing a dragon wouldn’t be in the cards for you, and perhaps that was a good thing.
As much as you enjoyed the beauty of Dragonstone, you much preferred the outdoors. The weather was splendid, and you took small victories wherever possible. With war on the horizon between your Queen Rhaenyra and her usurper brother, any chance at happiness was worth chasing after and holding onto, while you could.
House Celtigar had bent the knee to Rhaenyra, and your father sat at her council. You were made to be a lady-in-waiting, much your initial disdain. The station you held would’ve been considered a great honor to most young women, but you were inclined to be out in the ocean or on the back of a horse.
Now, you found enjoyment in it, wherever you could.
Oceanic air filled your lungs in a singular inhale, tinged with a saltwater sting. You stood near one of the many stone terraces lining the lengthy walkway to the castle’s entrance, accompanied by Joffrey. The boy had become your greatest joy amidst the brewing chaos, and you were rather grateful for it.
“Would you like to see the ocean, little Prince?” You held the boy’s hand, stooping down to wrap your arms beneath him, standing him up along the cobbled bannister. Joffrey’s laughter could brighten a whole room, and it did — it certainly lifted your spirits.
“When will I be able to ride a dragon?” He questioned, pointing towards the shape of Meleys in the sky. Joffrey was rather inquisitive — a sharp mind, one that would become a great leader someday.
You were unsure of how to answer such a question. Tyraxes was young and still small, just like Joffrey. “Whenever you grow up,” You hummed, a smile playing at either corner of your mouth. “You must be as tall as your brother, first.”
Joffrey toyed with the wooden dragon clutched between his hands, gaze falling toward the ground. “Luke wasn’t much taller.” He mumbled, and it nearly crushed your heart completely to hear the confusion and despair in a child’s voice.
Youth knew more than most, and in the mind of a child, something heinous could appear innocent, or something tragic was beyond their comprehension. Joffrey knew that Luke was gone — he wasn’t coming back. Silence drifted between the both of you, and you found it difficult to change the subject from Lucerys to something lighthearted.
“I miss him.” Joffrey’s sweet voice rang out like the pealing of bells, crystal-clear and downtrodden. You turned him around within your grasp, keeping your hands slotted underneath his arms to ground him. His eyes swam with unshed tears, prompting you to bring him into your embrace.
“It’s alright, my Prince. He’s still here,” You whispered, hugging the boy as tightly as you could. It was enough to rip at your heartstrings, tear you asunder as melancholy began to eat you alive. The fate of Lucerys was a tragic one — unfair and unwarranted, and now, a catalyst for destruction between kin. “We will remember him.”
From afar, Jacaerys observed you and his brother, standing along the ramparts with a palm atop the pommel of his shortsword. The emotional turmoil he continued to feel in regards to Lucerys happened to swell the moment he saw Joffrey clinging onto you — and he knew.
Wisps of a tempered breeze stirred his curled tresses, drifting across his regalia as it caught against his cloak. After the death of his brother, he had come out to the ramparts nearly every night, to sob and to curse the world, to pray to any God that would listen — return Lucerys, bring him home. He had lost count, and in turn, lost a bit of faith.
Remaining optimistic in the face of unavoidable danger was a difficult thing — fear had gripped him once, but no longer. He knew that the only time a man could be brave was in situations like these, where terror stared him in the face and dared him to submit.
Many still referred to him as a mere boy, with little experience and no real understanding of the world and its cruelty. Jacaerys had shed the raiment of boyhood the night he flew blindly into the darkness in the name of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.
With the man born, he knew that whatever would come next, he was prepared to face such challenges head-on. Brazenness was not in his nature, but he had learned to adopt stoicism when it mattered most. It was easy to shed the facade around his family, and around you.
His friendship with you was a calm within the storm, a lull in the tempestuous hurricane you were all trapped within. You now had as much stake in this game as he did — your father served on Rhaenyra’s council with Celtigar bannerman pledging to fight in the war to come, and you served as his mother’s lady-in-waiting.
Your blossoming bond was a great comfort, and the tender way in which you cared for Joffrey was a wonderful thing. You had a soft heart — a good heart, and that was something rare to come by. The two of you were both of a similar feather, and the admiration he held for you only seemed to grow stronger each day.
The word friendship often tormented him, on days where you wore beautiful gowns and stood beside his mother, or whenever you smiled. It tormented him when you held Joffrey within your arms and protected him just as fiercely as Rhaenyra would.
Honor demanded that he simply remain just that — a friend, but Jacaerys found himself smitten with you in a way that transcended propriety. To cross that line, especially with you, invited the disdain of his mother and the ire of your father, amongst other things.
Betrothal would be upon him soon enough, likely with a young maiden from the Vale or the Reach to secure an alliance, but it left a sour taste within his mouth. He had little desire to be with anyone else when you were right there.
Jacaerys steeled himself, abandoning his whimsical line of thinking in regards to you. It was a fool’s errand, and he couldn’t afford to be a fool. He stepped closer, the crunch of stone resonating underneath his boots as he approached you and Joffrey.
“My Lady,” Jacaerys’s tone was amiable, like the comforting lick of a warm hearth. His gaze flickered toward Joffrey, bemused with his brother’s antics as you balanced him along the bannister. “What are you doing up there?” He asked, playful in the presence of his little brother.
“Flying,” Joffrey’s head lifted from your shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. You happened to carry him in such a way that he called it flying — and he was asking you to do it again. “Flying!”
With a giggle, you picked the boy up, swinging him up enough to let him get some air. His melancholy turned to jovial laughter as you soared him over to Jacaerys, who was more than happy to pick him up. Joffrey clung to Jace, hugging his brother with all of his strength.
“You are getting too big to fly,” Jace mused, holding Joffrey in one arm as he motioned for you to accompany him. His tousled curls and amicable smile sent your heart fluttering as it had many times before. It wasn’t subtle, your liking of Jacaerys, but you understood the nature of your affections. “Big enough for Tyraxes, soon.”
Jacaerys was perfect, with all of the hallmarks of what a true King should be. He was gentle and eloquent, honed with a blade, learned — and above all, he was kind. The rage that plagued him now was justified, and it pained you to see him become coiled with anger, but you understood why.
As Joffrey regaled the two of you with tales of childlike wonder, soaring his toy dragon around Jace’s head, Jacaerys seemed inclined to converse with you regardless. “I always know where to look, whenever I need to see you.” He mused, walking alongside you as you made your way up the ramparts.
“Is that so?” You chuckled, head canting to one side. “What did you need to see me for, your Grace?” It was a force of habit — he was the heir to the Iron Throne, after all. Jacaerys regarded you with a brief laugh, knowing that formalities were often abandoned whenever the two of you were together.
“Do I need a reason?” Jacaerys mused, voice light and inviting. The crash of the tide upon the beach provided a rather serene ambience, accompanied by the calling of gulls as they circled the bay.
You shook your head, skirts gathered in one hand as you narrowly avoided an upturned plate of stone. “Of course not,” You hesitated, gaze sparkling as your nose wrinkled in mild amusement. “Jacaerys.” You ensured to exaggerate his name, allowing for your conversation to become personal.
At the end of the ramparts, a flock of crimson-clad handmaidens awaited your return. It was likely that they were waiting for you to hand Joffrey over, much to your dismay. The black-headed boy looked to you as you neared the end of your walk.
“I don’t want to go,” He protested, reaching for you as you stepped forward, taking a hold of his hand. “When can we fly again?” Joffrey asked, lower lip jutting out in a rather innocuous pout. He leaned forward, partially out of Jace’s grasp to give you a hug.
“Tomorrow, my Prince. I will let you fly as much as you’d like.” You assured him, reciprocating his hug with one of your own, with all of the warmth one could muster. It was motherly in-nature, and you watched as Jacaerys planted him onto solid ground.
Joffrey took the outstretched hand of a handmaiden, glancing back at you and Jacaerys before they disappeared behind the castle’s massive gates. It always hurt you to leave him, but you knew that tomorrow would come swiftly. A begrudging sigh escaped you before you looked at Jacaerys, countenance somber.
Jace knew what you were about to say — something about Lucerys. The gaping wound left within his heart was barely healed, still oozing with pain, but he was making every effort to mend it. You helped — your resolute reassurance and shoulder to lean on, but sometimes, it wasn’t enough.
Instead, you reached for Jace’s forearm, giving it a brief squeeze of comfort. Whatever sentiments he held, you seemed to echo it, leaving it all unspoken. You and Jacaerys had already spoken about it all at-length — sometimes, he had little desire to tear himself open again.
His head hung low, heap of dark curls billowing in the wind. Jacaerys’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, and he imagined plunging his sword into Aemond Targaryen’s other eye — and then it passed, just as quickly as it had appeared.
A forlorn silence settled between the both of you, one that was born out of mutual understanding and empathy. Jace went quiet often, and you were content to sit in it for as long as he pleased. Instead, you stepped toward the bannister, palms planting themselves atop the stone as you gazed out toward the land surrounding Dragonstone.
“You are good with him,” Jacaerys broke the silence, deliberately stepping towards you as he stood by your side. Joffrey and his half-brothers, Aegon and Viserys, were all he had left. He would die for them if he had to. “He talks about you often.”
An exuberant smile crept onto your features, one of a sweet fondness in regards to Joffrey. “He is a sweet boy — very sharp-witted, though. I would imagine he will grow to be very wise.” You replied, idly tracing your fingers around some of the rocks socketed into the bannister.
“I remember the day he was born,” Jacaerys recalled, remembering the day that his mother, pale skin glistening with sweat, had wobbled into the drawing room, a newborn Joffrey in her arms. “It was a beautiful day, and Ser Harwin was there, and Ser Laenor …” He trailed off, recalling the way that Lucerys had begged to hold his younger brother.
The topic of both Laenor and Harwin were bitter ones — both men playing the role of father. Jacaerys loved them both, as any son would. Another gust of saltwater mist brushed along the ramparts, dusting your cheeks with wisps of moist air.
Wordlessly, you reached for Jace’s arm, looping yours around him as you let him lean against you for support. As much as Jacaerys insisted that he would recover and move on, you ensured him that grieving took time — it came in many shapes and forms.
Jace’s smile was wistful and threadbare, made sorrowful by memories of Lucerys. He didn’t want to sully the moment with his melancholy, holding his head high as he glanced toward you. You were not looking, but it allowed him a moment of appreciation and admiration.
Your beauty was unparalleled, your features delicate and smile like the warmth of a summer sunshine. The way in which you carried yourself was of a kindly disposition, made to be nurturing and helpful instead of imposing. Admittedly, you took his breath away — the feeling was a constant one.
Sunlight sparkled across your countenance, gaze soothing and full of empathy. The way in which you grasped his arm, kept yourself tucked away within his side, it invoked feelings of protectiveness — and newfound affection.
A dragon’s shrill cry reverberated throughout the skies, prompting Jacaerys to immediately look ahead. It was the familiar shriek of Vermax, his bonded dragon, who had grown exponentially. He was larger than Moondancer, with olive-colored scales and orange fins, eyes the color of a burnished gold.
“Māzigon, Vermax!” Jacaerys called, gaining the attention of his dragon as it began to approach, causing your heart to gallop within your chest. He looked at you with a hint of amusement, head canting to one side. “Would you like to see him?” Jace inquired, moving along the wall.
As majestic as dragons were, the wonder within your eyes had quickly shifted to wariness as it landed along the ramparts, rocks scraping underneath its talons. Vermax was much larger when in close proximity than he was flying overhead. “He is wonderful, Jace. Though, it is best if I keep my distance. He might not like me.”
Jacaerys laughed, amber-brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “Might not like you?” He mused, knowing that such a thought was outlandish. If he liked you, then Vermax most certainly would. A dragon could always pick apart friend from foe, and you were as far from an enemy as one could be.
“Yes, what — Jacaerys, that is a perfectly reasonable thing to say,” You countered, flustered by Jace’s reaction to your skepticism. His smile was cheery and heartfelt as he stared at you, and then offered his hand. “I do not think that this is a good idea.” A soft utterance emerged from under your breath.
“Trust me.” His tone softened exponentially, shifting from playful to gentle, reassuring. You hesitated before taking a hold of his hand, and Jacaerys nearly brushed his thumb across your knuckles out of sheer instinct. Whatever thoughts he had, he pushed them to the far recesses of his mind.
You trusted Jacaerys more than most, prompting you to nod as he ushered you closer to Vermax. His grasp was tender, as to not frighten you, which only made your heart flutter with affection. The dragon bristled and made a series of noises, some more serpentine than others.
Vermax lowered his head, pushing closer towards his rider as the dragon bowed to Jacaerys. You were close enough to feel the waves of heat wafting from his breath, close enough to outstretch your arm and feel his scales beneath your palm.
The scent of brimstone and dragonscale lingered upon Vermax, like a crackling fire and smoke. You watched with bated breath as Jace’s palm moved to Vermax’s snout, digits tracing along the olive-hued scales, and down toward his jaw. “Sagon iēdrosa,” Jace murmured, stepping closer to his dragon. “Sȳz.”
High Valyrian was an exquisite language, a beautiful symphony from an ancient era. Jacaerys had become proficient in such a tongue, and the way he spoke it had you mesmerized. With a gentle smile, he still held your hand, gesturing toward Vermax.
“What are you saying to him?” You inquired, losing some of your fear. It gradually waned the closer Jacaerys had inched you toward the dragon, who showed no ill will towards you at all. Instead, Vermax’s burnished hues glimmered with intrigue — you were a familiar scent, emblazoned upon Jace, but not a familiar face.
“I told him to be still for you,” Jacaerys replied, fingers flexing around your own as he carefully guided you toward Vermax’s neck, where the scales began to flare and thicken. Olive turned to emerald in some places, verdant shades clashing together. “Place your hand here.”
Your breath hitched within your throat as Jace became in close proximity to you, closer than he’d been before. His grasp was a tender one, placing your palm atop the dragon’s throat. Warmth crept along the length of your spine, filling your belly with an eruption of butterflies.
You made the mistake of glancing at Jacaerys for the briefest moment, able to spot the rosy flush of color within his visage and the gleam within his stare. As soon as you’d made contact, he happened to glance away, making a soft noise as it stirred within his throat.
Vermax chortled, the dragon’s attention fixated upon you as you brushed your fingers across his scales. Jace had dropped your hand, realizing the sliver of space between you both as he stepped aside, content to observe you with his dragon.
It was your enchanting laughter that lifted his spirits, the gentle way in which you stroked across Vermax’s neck and shoulder. “He is beautiful,” You hummed, countenance bright with a joyous radiance as you looked at Jacaerys once more. The gap between you had grown, much to your dismay. “How do you say that in High Valyrian?”
Jace hesitated, lips parting just slightly. His heart nearly skipped a beat when you smiled at him, expectant and awaiting his answer. He became so easily distracted in your presence, and it was somewhat vexing to behold. “Gevie,” He replied, briefly clearing his throat. “Gevie means beautiful, in High Valyrian.”
With a soft hum, you looked to Vermax, your grin toothy and amused. “Gevie, Vermax.” You spoke clearly, but the dragon did not seem to understand what you said — it wasn’t a command. Instead, he let out a series of reptilian noises, nostrils flaring with snort, almost like that of a horse.
Vermax’s lack of reaction made you frown, but Jacaerys appeared amused by it, at least. “Gevie isn’t a command,” He mused, head canting to one side. “Your High Valyrian needs improvement.” His tone was jocular, teasing — it made your heart stir within your chest.
“Fortunately, I have the perfect teacher standing before me.” You countered with a giggle, noticing the way in which a shade of pink settled into his features. Jacaerys was beautiful and handsome, but his flustered behavior only made him more perfect to you.
The dragon shook its head, seeking the embrace of his rider before he began to take flight. A massive gust of wind from the flap of his wings nearly knocked you down, causing you to crouch and grip the stone of the ramparts.
Jacaerys smiled, watching as Vermax ascended, taking to the skies above Dragonstone once more. You watched with a semblance of awe, slowly rising to your feet as the dragon became a mere specter amidst the cloudless sky. He did not stray too far, circling around with the likes of Moondancer and Syrax.
“Someday, I will take you flying with me,” Jace suggested, nose wrinkling slightly at your bewildered expression. “I would keep you safe.” He reassured you before words could emerge from your mouth, his chuckle amicable as he led you back toward the gates of Dragonstone.
“I trust you, but flying?” To see the world from such great heights sounded wonderful, but you feared the fall — and you feared the unknown of it all even more. “That might take more convincing than this did.” You mused, walking alongside him as the gates became closer.
A huff escaped him, hand dropping from the pommel of his shortsword to his side, a symbol of letting his guard down. A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, occasionally accompanied by a brief bout of laughter or tender smiles.
As the gates loomed over the both of you, Jacaerys hesitated, deliberating on what to say next. There were so many things he wanted to say to you — where did he begin? The nerves of first affection grabbed hold of him, but he remained resistant, wanting nothing more than to tell you how much you meant to him.
“Perhaps an exchange is in-order,” Jacaerys began, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. “You come flying with me, and I will teach you High Valyrian.” He mused, smothering his grin at your expression. You were clearly wary and unimpressed.
“Danger for something that I could learn in the comfort of a book? I think not, your Grace.” With a grin of your own, Jace happened to snicker, his visage invoking an unspoken challenge, albeit playful. “If I am ever feeling bold and spontaneous, I will inform you as soon as possible.”
Jacaerys hummed, head ducking for just a moment before he met your gaze again, doting and overflowing with a subtle warmth. “Thank you for this,” He began, tone heartfelt and genuine. “I would not know what to do if it weren’t for your company and comfort. I’ve found it difficult to remain jovial as of late, but it’s rather effortless in your presence.”
His genial compliments made your stomach turn with excitement, and you could soar away. Jacaerys would be an excellent ruler, should he take the Iron Throne — such grace, compassion, and gallantry were true hallmarks of what would make a good King. You felt the familiar, smitten flush dance along your skin.
“Of course, Jace — you never have to ask for it,” Your fingers twisted into the silk of your gown, an outlet for your growing nerves. “You’ve no idea how much your company means to me. We will get through this together, that much I know.” With a brief nod, you felt his stare grow in intensity.
Before he could bear his heart to you on a whim, the gates opened, revealing several Targaryen bannermen and Kingsguard. It was sudden and somewhat jarring, placing the two of you back within reality — in a realm on the brink of war.
“I should return to your mother, I fear I’ve neglected my duties enough today,” You murmured, offering Jace a kindly smile before dropping to curtsy. He seemed starstruck, as if caught within the depths of his own thoughts. “Good afternoon, your Grace.”
Formalities reappeared again, much to his disdain. He loved it when you called him Jace or Jacaerys, or your Grace whenever you teased him. To hear it used in the context of nobility made him feel distant, but he understood. You possessed a strong sense of propriety.
“My Lady.” Jace replied, watching as you took your leave to rejoin the other handmaidens and guardsmen. Jacaerys cursed himself for not making the most of the moment, but he knew that he could make his own opportunity, forge it if it never came about.
He intended to do just that.
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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋, with braziers dancing across the obsidian interior. Stars sparkled above a clear night sky, dragons dancing above. It was almost like something from a fairytale or a painting, mesmerizing to behold as you gazed up at the scaling ceiling of your bedchambers.
Your quarters were small and homely, befitting of your status as lady-in-waiting. Rhaenyra had ensured that your lodgings and that of your father were enough — more than suitable, really. The feathered mattress you slept upon was made for royalty, you thought.
The constant flicker of candlelight provided a source of warmth as you rolled over within your bed, blankets hauled up beneath your chin. It was too early to fall asleep, too late to do anything of substance.
A knock at your door gave you pause, brows furrowing together as you retrieved your robe, lacing it around the sheer gossamer of your nightgown. Bare feet traveled across the cold stone, until you reached the metal hoop slotted atop mahogany.
With a pull, you opened the door, surprised to find Jacaerys, who had abandoned his traditional Targaryen regalia, hands occupied with a stack of various tomes and scrolls. His mop of dark curls framed his face, and even he seemed just as bewildered as you were.
“Jacaerys,” His nightly visits were rather uncommon — in fact, this was only the second time he’d come, the first following Lucerys’s passing. You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stepping aside to allow him inside of your chambers. “Is everything alright?”
Jace placed the stack of books atop the table that sat amongst small lounge chairs, ensuring to clear his throat before he spoke. “Of course,” He replied, gesturing toward your newfound reading material. “I’ve brought you scripts to learn High Valyrian.”
You blinked, touched by such a thoughtful gesture. You smoothed your palms across your robe, stepping forward to inspect the books, many of which appeared ancient and weathered. “You didn’t have to,” You replied, head canting to one side. “Many of these seem important. Are you sure that no one will miss these?”
A brief chuckle escaped him before he shook his head. “The Maesters might, but they’ve read them a hundred times over, I’m certain of it. You will find more use.” He replied, retreating toward the threshold of your chambers. Jacaerys wanted to keep his visit brief — visiting a young woman’s quarters in the dead of night was not exactly an intelligent move.
“You’re leaving so soon?” Your inquiry held a twinge of disappointment, hoping that he would stay and converse with you, at the very least. “Jacaerys, I assure you that no one will admonish you if you stay for a few minutes longer.” The softness of your voice enticed him, and he very nearly confessed then and there.
The weight of growing sentiments felt as if they would swallow him whole if he did not speak them into fruition. With the threat of a looming war and the potential for oblivion, Jacaerys was unsure of what gave him pause. The fear of rejection, perhaps? That wasn’t it.
It took a moment for you to adjust, and when you did, you noted his own attire — a billowy tunic and dark trousers that happened to make him appear softer in the candlelight. The sharp black and crimson of his house’s colors made him intimidating and poised, but no longer.
You saw Jacaerys himself, doe-eyed and magnificent.
“I fear what will happen if I stay,” Jacaerys confessed, squaring himself with the door. If he continued to linger in your chambers without restraint or without additional eyes, he knew what would happen — he did not want to sully your honor. “I won’t.”
“Jacaerys,” You whispered, brows furrowing together to form a look of confusion and startlement. Out of concern, you stepped closer, abandoning the scripts of High Valyrian now scattered across your table. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand.”
The inner war he waged within seemed to reflect upon his countenance, as Jacaerys exhaled — it was laced with stress, a heaviness that you struggled to understand. He seemed flustered, not wanting to meet your amiable gaze. “It is best if I leave it alone.” He replied, taking a hold of your hands. “I would not tarnish your honor.”
That is what he meant.
Something boiled over inside of you, the butterflies and blossoming affection turning into a tidal wave that threatened to swallow you whole. As Jace held your hands, he seemed desperate to convey such a message — whatever he wanted, he could not have.
A brief exhale escaped you before you steeled yourself, thumbs brushing across his knuckles, over the veins of his hands. “You wouldn’t tarnish it,” You whispered, stomach churning with molten heat. “I know that you wouldn’t, Jace. I trust you the most.”
Jacaerys felt the stirring within his chest, the first inkling of arousal settling into his very bones. It was somewhat foreign — a new feeling, but exciting and exhilarating. “I would never hurt you,” He insisted, and you believed him wholeheartedly. “What I feel for you, I do not wish to feel this way with anyone else.”
If you could’ve collapsed then and there, you would’ve — you thought it would happen, with the way your knees rattled together beneath your nightgown. The beating of your heart accelerated into a violent crescendo, and then you felt the rush — the love you had for him, desire, admiration, neediness.
A tenuous silence drifted between you both, the tension thick enough to be sliced with a blade. Jacaerys had inched closer without thinking, able to peer down into your eyes, swirling with affection and bewilderment. “If I told you I felt the same?” Your voice barely rose above a whisper.
Deliberately, Jacaerys released one of your hands, allowing his palm to fully envelop your face, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “I would never difile your virtue, or take it for granted. You must tell me if this is something you want.” He insisted, jaw tightening as he anxiously awaited your answer.
You knew that he wouldn’t — Jacaerys Velaryon was the most honorable man you knew, one that would never lay a finger upon you unless you consented. You couldn’t imagine a return to friendship if you happened to reject him — you didn’t want to reject him, either.
“I do,” A shudder ran down your spine, bringing a wave of thrill and anticipation with it. “I want this — and I want you, Jacaerys, if you’ll have me.” Part of you became nervous, knowing that you had never bedded a man before, but you pushed the thought aside.
“A hundred times over.” Jace uttered, dipping down to press his lips against yours. The kiss was incredibly sweet and delicate, something brief to test the waters as the two of you began to explore uncharted territory. Your hands reached for his chest, flat atop his sternum.
Allowing the kiss to linger, you tilted your head just slightly, enough to permit a sensual progression. He kissed you so sweetly, treated you as if you were precious, something to be worshiped. When he inevitably pulled away, you felt a twinge of nervousness.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Your confession was a strenuous one, and you hoped that he wouldn’t be disappointed by your lack of experience. Most men already had a plethora by the time betrothals and first love emerged. “Is that alright?”
“Of course,” Jacaerys reassured you with a gentle squeeze, brows furrowing together with insistence. He hesitated, somewhat sheepish to admit the very same, but he knew you wouldn’t admonish him for it. “I haven’t either, if that’s alright.” He mused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.
A sweet bout of laughter escaped you before you nodded several times over, unable to keep from withholding your happiness. “I suppose that this will be quite the learning experience.” You felt his thumb stroke along your jaw, his lips molding themselves to yours in another kiss.
Passion and tension began to mount, a continuous climb of affection, prepared to turn into something fiery. Jacaerys worried that he would disappoint you, or perhaps feel clumsy and awkward, but those were mere insecurities — he knew that you wouldn’t hold it against him.
One of his hands dropped, finding the pliant curve of your hip as he sank his digits into you, able to haul you closer, until there was no space left between the two of you. Kissing felt effortless with Jace, despite your inexperience — he was gentle and deliberate, ensuring that he took his time with you above all else.
Your fingers wandered from his chest to his broad shoulders, finding the curls of hair at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys exhaled, a shiver rolling down his spine as you began to gently tug at his tresses. He canted his head slightly, enough to deepen the kiss and hold you close.
It was Jace who slowly broke the kiss, but just enough to speak, warm breath fanning across your face. “May I take you to bed?” He murmured, tracing across the silky plane of your jaw. His excitement began to grow, heart hammering within his chest.
In such close quarters to one another, you noticed the faint dusting of freckles along the bridge of his nose, spreading just underneath his eyes. You pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You may.” Eagerness replaced any nervousness you were experiencing, then and there.
Jacaerys found your hand, twining his digits with your own as the two of you inched toward your bed. It was plush, lined with furs and enough blankets to warm the Seven Kingdoms. He stood at the precipice of a cliff, preparing to dive headfirst — and it felt incredible.
He watched with bated breath, rapturous and enamored as your digits settled along the many ties of your outer robes. You began the sluggish process of untethering each one until the garment loosened, enough for you to shrug it aside and drape it over the chest at the foot of your bed.
Even with the veil of sheer, silky fabric, Jacaerys quietly admired your physique, shapely and beautiful in every way imaginable. “You are perfect,” Jace uttered, hands coming to settle around your hips, searching for any sign of hesitation on your end. “Beautiful.” He exhaled, feeling you coax him in for another kiss.
Through the slip of silk and gossamer, Jacaerys deftly felt his way along your body, taking his time savoring you. Every curve and dip, every little detail he committed to memory, lost within a sea of you. Your kiss became passionate, and he was more than happy to reciprocate, the intensity burning between you both.
Jace felt your fingers tease the hem of his tunic, enough to elicit a subtle gasp from him. The sensation of your flesh against his caused goosebumps to spread from where your digits brushed against his waist. He released you for a moment, long enough for him to assist you in removing his nightshirt.
A pang of admiration struck at your stomach, breath hitching within your throat. He was pretty — well-muscled for a young man, with sunkissed skin, smatterings of freckles along his shoulders. Jacaerys felt your lips press against the hollow of his throat, warmth fanning out from the simple contact.
“I want to take care of you, if you’ll let me.” Jace murmured, insistent on pleasuring you above all else. He knew very little of what ensued between a woman and a man within the confines of their bedchambers outside of the simple act itself, but it was easy to imagine.
Your lips parted, heat sinking into your bones as you reached for his curled tresses, digits slipping through his soft, dark locks. “Yes”, Your voice was barely above a whisper as you coaxed him in for another kiss, one charged with arousal and desire. “I want you, Jace.”
The heady, wanton way in which you spoke his name caused him to shiver, bare chest pressed snugly against your own. Even the veil of silken fabric could not hide your supple frame from him, the peaks of your breasts soft and pliant.
His kiss was so gentle — it was charged with lust despite its tame nature, not that you minded. You felt his hands fall to your hips, melding into your curves before he began to gather the fabric within his hands. Jacaerys looked to you before continuing, and you gave him a nod to signal your approval.
Silky gossamer slowly crawled up the length of your legs as Jace gathered your gown, sliding it upward. You couldn’t fight against the onslaught of molten heat that churned violently within your stomach, shamelessly pooling between your legs.
Jacaerys hesitated, likely thinking of what to do next. He had been educated on what consummation was, the act of making an heir — but there was more to it, more of you to explore. Curiosity consumed him as he placed his palm atop the bare skin of your thigh, using the other to ease you down onto your bed.
He sat beside you, leg to leg as he continued to push your nightgown up toward your hips, skirts gathering around the middle of your thighs. “May I?” Jace’s voice seemed to grow husky with arousal, desire burning its way through his veins.
Instead, you gingerly took a hold of his hand, guiding it underneath your gown as you parted your legs enough to allow him unhindered access. He caressed you wherever he could, shuddering when you held the trail of your nightgown in one hand to push it up around your hips.
You nearly squeaked when his palm brushed along your inner thigh, lips parting with a sharp exhale. Jace moved closer, as close as he could as his mouth graced your neck, digits inching toward the slick heat between your legs. When he found it, you let out a simpering whine, reaching for his forearm.
A hushed moan escaped you as two digits trailed across your cunt, exploratory and feather-light. Your hips canted forward into the sensation, desiring more — and Jace obliged, pushing both fingers inward until they slipped past your folds.
“Jace,” You whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to pepper strings of sweet kisses along your neck, gown sagging enough to let him kiss your shoulder. “Do not stop, please.” That breathy plea exuded some power over him, and he was enthralled, prepared to do whatever you asked of him.
“Is that alright?” Jacaerys asked, digits becoming a touch more vigorous as he stroked at your slit, surprised at how wet you were. If it were a common thing, he would know what to expect in the future. His thumb grazed your clit, and you gasped.
With a soft hum of approval, you nodded, shifting your legs apart just a little more. “Y—Yes,” Absentmindedly, your fingers slipped from the taut muscle of his forearm to his hand, the one wedged underneath your gown. “I — Like this.” You instructed him to touch you how you had touched yourself.
Jacaerys watched through a half-lidded stare, beyond entranced with you. You were beautiful — so painfully ethereal that it made him want to kneel before you, a goddess made to be worshiped. You adjusted his fingers, ensuring that his thumb pressed against your clit with continuous pressure.
Despite his nonexistent experience, he was doing wonders for you — he was attentive and willing to learn your body as you saw fit. He was so handsome, lips curling into an affectionate smile before he kissed your jaw, digits continuing from where they’d left off.
Your palm fell across his thigh, nails beginning to dig themselves into the muscle there as he touched your clit, digits tracing around the rest of your cunt. The candlelight highlighted his features in such perfect detail, the illumination slight.
Reverence seeped into each action, every stroke of his fingers evoking a string of whimpers from you. He was passionate and careful, willing to learn your body better than you. He continued to caress your clit, the sensation sending jolts of electricity throughout your body.
His name became your prayer, devolving into desperate moans and whispered pleas as you rocked your hips into the sensation of his hand. “Jacaerys,” You sighed with passion, feeling the stirring within your stomach. Arousal consumed every part of you, just as it did him. “Jace.”
The dark-haired Prince let out a soft groan into the hollow of your throat, wanting you more than anything, and the hand you had perched atop his thigh did little to ease the fever. He kissed your neck again, scarlet-faced and beyond eager, whispering sweet nothings in High Valyrian against your skin.
Excitement and the heat of the moment seemed to get to you, as you used one hand to sloppily unlace the leather ties of his trousers. You wanted to touch him too, let him feel exactly how you felt — how he made you feel.
Jace shivered, not objecting, but he wanted to focus on you above all else. “What about you?” He asked, feeling his cock twitch with want. The ache he had for you was almost painful, threatening to tear him apart if he couldn’t find relief.
“Together,” You suggested, turning enough to crawl into his lap, much to his delight. Jacaerys held you steady, lips clamoring together in a messy flurry of tongue and adoration. It was the anticipation of youth — the desire and sentiments overrode everything else, made duty disappear. “You are perfect.”
His brief smile made all of your worry dissipate, fading into mere background noise. Your hands returned to the leather ties of his breeches once more, sluggishly loosening them. Jace steeled himself, a fire burning within his belly as you reached down.
A low, satisfied groan tore past his lips when your hand gently wrapped around his cock, searching his visage for any sign of discomfort. There was none — only desire, lust festering within his gaze. He resumed touching you, digits circling your clit once more.
Within your delicate grasp, his length hardened, your palm finding a careful rhythm. Your hips twitched, rolling into the sensation of his hand. It was heavenly — the way in which he handled you was gallant and gentle. Arousal continued to gather between your thighs, a new and sticky feeling.
Intermingled gasps and groans filled the air, the both of you clinging to one another. Jacaerys leaned forward, mouth seeking yours, the kiss hot and gentle. Between your careful, uncertain strokes along his length and his digits teasing your cunt, the both of you were lost within the throes of passion.
He slipped his other hand underneath your nightgown, with enough leverage to remove it, if he so desired. Jacaerys broke the kiss long enough to ask, chest heaving with heavier breaths. “May I?” He whispered, voice husky and hoarse with lust.
You nodded, maneuvering your arms over your head as your nightgown slipped to the floor, leaving you bare before Jacaerys. The saltwater breeze which fluttered through your quarters left you shivering, both from the brief chill and anticipation.
The awestruck way in which he stared at you left you hot, body feverish beneath his tempered gaze. He kissed your collarbone, eyes warm and affectionate. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He stated, nearly breathless. His heart was yours — every fiber of his being devoted itself to you.
Smitten beneath his sweetly-spoken compliments, you trailed your fingers throughout his soft curls. The other slyly descended to reach for his cock again, but Jacaerys seemed to place your hand aside. You seemed confused, head canting to one side. “Do you not like it?”
His bemused chuckle filled your chambers, amiable and as warm as a cozy hearth. “Of course I like it,” Jacaerys murmured, kissing along your jaw and neck, holding you as close as he could. “I’d like to focus on you. There’s something that I wanted to try, if you’ll allow it.”
Surprised, you seemed open to whatever he wanted to try. “Anything you want, you will have. It’s yours.” You expected him to put you on your knees or turn you on your stomach. Instead, he coaxed you down onto your back, getting you to lay down as he crawled between your parted legs.
His mouth pressed a string of affectionate kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, beginning to dip lower toward the perky swell of your breasts. You squirmed slightly, uncertain of where this would lead to. You trusted Jace to follow his own instinct.
Your back arched when his mouth graced your breast, pressing kisses all around the pliant flesh. A moan escaped you, signaling your pleasure as he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, gingerly suckling on the pebbled bud.
“Jace,” You squeaked, one hand flying to his mountain of dark curls, pushing your fingers through. He touched you in a way that evoked a sense of yearning, as if you were the only woman in the realm. His hand kneaded into your chest, a shiver coursing through him whenever you moaned his name. “Please.”
Heat simmered through him, a wave of desire that only seemed to grow in intensity, demanding to be extinguished. Your flesh tasted saccharine upon his tongue, but there was something else he wanted to taste. As he kissed your chest, he released his lips from your breast, continuing his descent.
He kissed you everywhere, reverence seeping into each brush of his mouth as he traversed your body. Jacaerys pressed his lips against your stomach, and then to your hips, palms sliding against your thighs.
A sharp exhale escaped you as he peppered a string of kisses along the inside of your thigh, showering you in little pecks of affection before he flattened himself entirely. You swallowed the lump within your throat; the sight of Jace’s face wedged in between your legs made you shiver, arousal following suit.
Everything was gentle, even the way in which his veined hands gripped the pliant flesh of your thighs to let them rest against his shoulders. He hesitated, allowing you a moment to adjust and steel yourself before he dipped forward, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt.
The singular, experimental stroke of his tongue caused you to shiver, hands curling into fists. If you could melt away into your furs, you would’ve, feeling his mouth press kisses against your core. “Jace,” You whined, attempting to hold still and cease your squirming. “Don’t stop.”
It was all the encouragement he truly needed, digits soothingly caressing along your thighs as he began to lap at your cunt, adopting a pace that was a little less sluggish. He nearly groaned when he felt your hand grasp at his curled tresses, sinking in toward the base of his skull.
In the nighttime gloom of Dragonstone, you found warmth and comfort in one another — affections intensified, and whatever bond you had before was now redefined entirely. Jacaerys loved you, he had never been more sure of himself until now, dutifully bringing about your pleasure.
A myriad of soft whimpers and whines escaped you, hand gingerly tugging on Jace’s hair as he buried his mouth in the apex of your thighs. His tongue vigorously lapped and traced over your core, savoring your taste, committing it to memory. Bathed in moonlight, Jace appeared more ethereal than ever, the muscles flexing within his back.
With slow, eager laps of his tongue, Jacaerys made sure to savor you, letting it flick across your clit. The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit. The continued sensation of your digits carding through his curls made him sigh with elation.
He brought you closer, heart leaping into his throat when you began to writhe beneath him, hips tilting forward into each stroke of his mouth. “You’re perfect,” Jacaerys whispered, ensuring that you could hear it. Soft utterances of High Valyrian were etched into the flesh of your thigh. “Perfect.”
Blossoming beneath his sweet compliments, your fingers curled against his scalp, unable to lay still as Jace resumed his previous ministrations. The warmth of his tongue left you with a blistering want, stomach churning with a wave of arousal.
As he lapped at your clit again, you whimpered, moaning his name as if to keep his attention there. Jacaerys’s tender expression also bore a great deal of concentration, dark eyes flickering toward you. “There?” He uttered, hoping that you would guide him to where he needed to be.
Your head bobbed up and down against the furs, flesh beginning to glisten with the first inklings of perspiration. Everything felt feverishly hot, as if you would be turned to ash where you sat. Jacaerys was attentive and loving, following your breathy plea as he pursed his lips around the pearl of your cunt.
Jace shivered at the sounds you made, enticed by each whimper and moan, every twitch of your body. He suckled on the sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between that and greedy, vigorous laps of his tongue. He let himself be lost within bliss, arousal mounting from pleasuring you.
You reached for his hand, fingers interlocking atop the swell of your hip as he continued to lap at your aching core. He squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, buried deep within your sweet cunt, something that he wanted to have again and again.
He was at your mercy, the heir to the Iron Throne, the Prince of Dragonstone — and you hadn’t the slightest clue. Jace’s brow creased in concentration as he focused on what spots made you squirm the most, continuing to dutifully lap at your clit until your knees trembled.
“Jace,” A needy moan left you, reverberating within the obsidian confines of your chambers. Arousal rushed through you, molten heat oozing from between your thighs, a nectar as sweet as honey. “I—I think I’m close.” You groaned, unsure if it was just the throes of ecstasy or reality.
Nevertheless, you were on the verge of reaching your peak, and you didn’t want him to stop. Instead, you urged his head forward, fingers laced within his dark curls, right at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys groaned in delight, thoroughly enjoying the way you continued to coax him inward — he happily devoured every drop.
With another barrage of his tongue assaulting your cunt, you whimpered, turning malleable within Jace’s hands. He knew that you were on the verge, and so he pursed his lips around your clit once more, and that was more than enough.
His name emerged from your lips like a reverent prayer, the only name that you knew in that moment. Your release was hot, like a rush of fire that didn’t simmer immediately. The residual sensation lingered, and Jace helped you through it.
Your thighs twitched, absentmindedly attempting to clench together, but Jace held you apart, soothing you with kisses along your thighs. The blissful, contented expression that soon followed was a beautiful one — Jace was shocked to know that he could do that to you, bring you to ruin.
His gallant smile gave you pause as you studied the rosy flush within his features, the glistening sheen of your arousal upon his lips. Jacaerys seemed entirely unphased, basking in your aftermath all the same, his curls tousled and disheveled.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Your tone was sheepish, realizing how much you’d tugged at his hair. If it were you, a tender-headed maiden, you would’ve been batting his hand away. Jace’s bemused chuckle caused you to duck your head.
Jace disarmed you with a charming, doting smile and a simple look of those earthen-brown eyes of his, and shook his head. “You could never hurt me,” He replied, his attempt at gentle flirtation. “I worry more for you.” His confession was soft-spoken.
The act of consummation was not intended to be a comfortable one — for a woman, at least. Jacaerys knew to broach this with care, to make sure that you were well enough before all else. He inched forward from between your thighs, resting his head atop your stomach.
He allowed you a moment of composure, feeling your digits trace the lines of his countenance, stroke at his tresses. Jace pressed a string of kisses all around your body, wherever his lips could reach. The moment was incredibly tender, lingering with the tension of a blossoming ardor.
Through the comfortable haze of silence, you cleared your throat, staring down at Jacaerys with what only could be described at a look of complete and utter adoration. He was so kind, so noble and gentle, yet with the fervor of the dragon’s blood, a desire to do good. You felt so fortunate, even moreso when he smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your hip.
“I want you, Jacaerys,” You whispered, watching as Jace began to sit up, letting your legs trap him on either side. “More than I’ve ever wanted anyone else.” It was the hitch within his throat that made you shiver, heart hammering beneath your breast as you began to confess your feelings — it was inevitable.
Jace reveled at the sight of you, naked and glimmering within the moonlit dusk, candlelight bathing your physique in shades of flickering orange. His descent was slow as he covered you with his body, lips parting to allow a shaky exhale before he kissed your brow. “You have my heart,” He uttered, forehead resting against yours. “Everything I am, is yours.”
Your palms moved to cup either side of his face, thumbs caressing along his cheekbones before you smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I am yours.” You assured, your commitment resolute before the Gods — before Jacaerys Velaryon.
It was a poignant moment, one that seemed intermingled with the seriousness of your words, yet still tinged with the youthful excitement of a first love. He kissed you, slow and amorous, full of an unrestrained affection that no longer seemed weighed-down by unspoken sentiments.
“Are you certain that this is what you want?” Jace asked, his voice a soft caress through your haze of kisses. He would not fault you if you wanted to stop now — and he would if you wished it of him. As much as he desired you, he valued your virtue above his own.
“Yes,” You replied, your palms gliding from his soft visage to the taut muscle of his shoulders, lacing your fingers around the back of his neck. “Are you certain, too? I worry that you might regret lying with me.”
Jacaerys shook his head, brows furrowing together to reflect a semblance of disbelief. He reached down to caress your cheek, making sure that you understood every word. “Nothing in the world would ever make me regret this,” He murmured. “I’ve never been more certain about anything before.”
A brief stirring of adoration fluttered within your chest, and you knew that you wanted no one else ever again. You pulled yourself off of the mattress enough to kiss him, sinking into the sweet bliss of the moment as he reciprocated. His mouth moved in-tandem with yours, eyes beginning to flutter shut.
His hands planted themselves into the feathered pillow on either side of your head, but it didn’t last long. Jacaerys leaned back, maneuvering out of the leather of his trousers, flush against you once they were removed. You were so soft, like an ocean of silk beneath him.
He felt one of your legs hitch around his hips, bodies together beneath the furs. The chill of your chambers dissipated, replaced by the warmth of your skin. You kept your hands poised against his shoulders, dancing across the smattering of freckles there as you continued to kiss him, as if each one would be your last.
The hardened swell of his cock pressed against your lower stomach, and you could feel his breath grow heavier between kisses. He was perfect — flawless, so handsome that it made you ache with want.
Jace kissed you again and again, feeling the soft peaks of your breasts brush against his chest. He adjusted his weight, shifted his hips as he pressed the head of his length against your slick cunt. He was somewhat nervous — perhaps not as much as you, but anxious enough. He made sure to be careful, feeling your legs nudge themselves apart.
A look of mutual preparedness passed between you both, between your doe-eyed gaze of anticipation and Jace’s mounting look of want, there was little room left for uncertainty. He sat up enough to position himself against your aching core, his cock splitting past your folds before it prodded at your entrance.
You steeled yourself, and Jace made sure to be slow, afraid of hurting you enough to cause true discomfort. As he tilted forward, his length filled you, sheathing himself inside of you, inch by inch. Admittedly, it wasn’t a good feeling — not initially, anyway.
A sharp exhale escaped you as he bottomed out, staying still atop you as he allowed you time to grow accustomed to him. Waves of complete and utter bliss rolled through him, his own pleasure nearly overwhelming. You were tight, maidenhead intact for the next few moments until he began to move.
“Are you alright?” Jace whispered around the shell of your ear, pressing against you once more as he reassuringly kissed along the side of your face. He felt despicable for causing you any amount of pain, but you seemed to dismiss his concern.
“I am,” You placated him with a smile, coaxing him in for a kiss. It was best if you didn’t think about it — and with time, it would feel better. Everything was awkward and clumsy, the follies of youth, but as Jace began to move, a fire began to burn within your belly. “Jace.” You sighed, keeping your leg around his hips.
A soft groan resonated beside your ear as Jace adopted a sluggish rhythm, not wanting to intensify things so quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, body content to bend to his thrusts, grow accustomed to the act itself. He reciprocated your kiss, black curls falling in front of his temples.
Bliss soon replaced discomfort, the more you allowed yourself to adjust. You shifted your legs further apart, one hand falling toward his bicep, the other remaining tangled at the nape of his neck. The sounds of your lovemaking soon filled your chambers, with your foreheads pressed together.
Your name fell from his tongue in a needy groan, and it made you shiver, body reacting with a barrage of gooseflesh along your spine. Perspiration grew upon his brow as he maintained his pace, digits curling into the furs on either side of you.
The sound of your pleasured moans made him feel better, a sign that you were no longer riddled with soreness and irritation. Jace pressed a trail of hot, messy kisses along your face, reaching to the sweet spot beneath your jaw. He kept himself anchored there, feeling your hand squeeze at his bicep.
“Jace!” You squeaked, flushed at the growing lewdness of the noises — the squelching, the passionate groans and heavy breathing. He was perfect, cock filling you in a way that left you completely satisfied. Jace felt your hand fall away from his bicep, reaching for his own, interlocked hands falling back against the cushions.
He shuddered, reveling in the way your cunt tightened around him, the sensation of your hand within his hair, hands joined at your side. Jace’s pace began to quicken, but only somewhat, enough to really feel the myriad of pleasure take hold.
You yearned for him in every way imaginable; your body ached with each movement, every thrust as he leisurely moved in and out of you. His cock pulsated with a dull throbbing, enough to fill his belly with a raging fire. He kissed you again, lips traversing wherever they saw fit, peppering every inch of your sweet skin.
Time seemed to move agonizingly slow in your presence — Jacaerys wouldn’t want it any other way. If he could capture this moment, he would’ve. Every moment was graced by a warm intimacy that sank into his very bones, his adoration for you furthered with each roll of his hips, sheathing himself inside of you.
His soft lips graced your collarbone, continuing to make love to you in the only way he knew how. It was passionate and gentle, in a way reserved for the deepest of lovers. Jace grunted when your hips involuntarily rolled upward to grind against him, lips parting as he squeezed your hand.
At last, he lifted his head, your eyes locking together. Your countenance was exceptionally beautiful, especially when painted with the shade of desire, and it had him aching with want. His jaw tensed when you brushed dark curls away from his eyes, palm lingering long enough to pull him down for a kiss.
His cock continued to hit your cunt with a tame fervor, filling you completely, testing your limits as he neared his peak. Jacaerys knew that there would be more moments like these in the future — his energy was waning, and perhaps, the unfamiliarity of it all contributed to this.
Your name spilled from his tongue, throat echoing with a soft groan as his pace became slightly erratic. It was difficult to control himself amidst chasing after his release, but he maintained what little composure he had, gritting his teeth together as he thrust into you again.
Pleasure contorted into ecstasy, becoming an unstoppable wave that was quick to take hold of him. Concentration intermingled with bliss were etched into his features, face pressing against yours, nearly breathless as you kissed him again.
With a groan, Jacaerys rocked forward again, spilling himself inside of you. In hindsight, it was both brazen and feckless, done in the heat of the moment, but he cared little of it for the time being. His cock throbbed, thrusting into you again a time or two before he stilled completely.
Heavy pants resonated between you both as you caught your breath, flush against one another in the aftermath. You pressed a kiss against Jace’s cheek, trailing your fingers throughout his hair. He was quick to kiss you, gathering his composure before he pulled himself out of you.
A rush of sticky warmth slathered the inside of your thighs, leaving behind a feeling of slight discomfort. Jace gathered a cloth for you to clean yourself with, returning to lay beside you as he rucked the furs up around your bodies. The air was colder at nightfall, injected with a saltwater mist.
“I apologize if I hurt you,” Jacaerys uttered, dark brows furrowing together as you wriggled closer, resting your head atop his bare chest. Your arm draped over him, allowing yourself to be close, a feeling that he wanted more than anything else. “It was not my intention.” He kissed the top of your head.
“You didn’t,” You replied, tracing soft patterns against his skin, angling your head up enough to kiss him. Jace cupped your jaw, leaning in to deepen the tender entanglement, lost within the bliss of your lips. “You would never hurt me.”
Jacaerys was fiercely protective over you, that much was true — even from himself. He kept an arm wrapped around you, cradling you at his side as he gazed into your eyes. He could see you, then — his beloved wife, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps it was too early to tell, but he knew.
As the both of you settled in together, your maidenhead now lost, you couldn’t help but smile. Jacaerys had made your first experience more than anyone ever could — you hoped that it would stay that way forever. “Does your offer of teaching High Valyrian still stand?” You mused.
A huff of amusement left Jacaerys as he turned his head enough to look at you, a smile playing at either corner of his mouth. “I thought you wanted those dusty old books.” Admittedly, his offering of those damned texts is what started this in the first place — he had to be grateful.
“I knew that you would be kind enough to bring them to me,” You confessed, nose wrinkling in amusement. “An excuse to see you.” The look on Jace’s face was one of theatrical shock, and you erupted into a fit of laughter when he squeezed your hip.
“You might grow tired of me, if I am to teach you High Valyrian.” Jacaerys mused, his smile one of complete and utter warmth. Anyone would know that his love for you was obvious — there wasn’t any subtlety about it.
You shook your head, comfortably sinking against him, your upper body lounging atop him. “I could never grow tired of you, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You exhaled, exhaustion beginning to grip you. It was bound to happen eventually, given the abnormally late hour.
Jace was thankful that you weren’t looking — his face was dusted with a rather obvious layer of pink, and yet, the feeling was beyond satisfying. The two of you allowed the silence to sink through, accompanied by the sound of the encroaching tide as it broke upon the jagged rock and cliff sides surrounding Dragonstone.
“Will you stay?” You asked, hoping that he would be agreeable to it. It was a risky proposition, but Jace knew that he couldn’t leave you after this — he didn’t want to, either. No one would come clamoring about within his chambers at first light.
“Of course,” He murmured, lips twitching into a sweet smile. “Though, I should go at the first light of dawn.” Jace’s tone was one of clear disappointment, but it was best to keep suspicions low. You knew that he had duties that transcended you — he was the Prince of Dragonstone, the heir — and you were not betrothed.
A sense of understanding settled onto your features, but you still wanted him by your side — you wished that you could wake up next to him. “I hope that dawn never comes, then.” You whispered, taking his hand within yours as you pressed a kiss against his palm, knowing that there would be many more dawns to come with him at your side.
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copyright @ swordgrace; please do not translate, steal, or copy my works and post them onto other platforms or claim as your own.
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anistarrose · 2 months
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I'd like to propose a dark horse candidate for the most interesting line in The Book of Bill. And it's this near-unreadable, seemingly one-off joke from the "Skin" page:
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[ID: tiny text reading: "Help! This is not Bill Cipher. My name is Grebley Hemberdreck of Zimtrex 5. I'm one of thousands of beings Bill has devoured over trillions of years whose souls are now trapped inside him. You have to free me! It's horrible in here. He just keeps playing the song "Good Vibrations" by Marky Mark on an endless loop. Please, please, this is not a joke! The Zimtrexians were once a proud and mighty people, but now our spirits long for release from this..." End ID.]
Okay, so Bill devours souls who then live out a horrible existence inside him. That's just some typical and expected Bill behavior, right? Nothing to be shocked by? Maybe not, but one thing jumps out at me... and of all things, it's the way that Bill keeps playing that Beach Boys parody (correction provided by @fexalted: no, not in fact a Smiley Smile parody, but a real song!) on loop.
Because in The Book of Bill, there's a recurring motif of characters playing music for a very specific reason: to repel an unwanted presence inside their head. This is what Elias Inkwell, and later Ford, did with the "It's A Small World" parody — they tried to keep Bill out of their brains. Or, metaphorically... to drown out his voice.
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[ID: a Journal 3 page with a cassette taped inside. It's titled: "The World Is Small Ever After for Always." Ford writes: "If it's war you want, it's war you'll get! If you want to torture me? I'll torture you back!" End ID.]
That doesn't necessarily mean that Bill finds the voices of devoured souls to be troubling, let alone downright haunting, does it? Well... not quite on its own. But there's a "color" code on the page about TV static that says a lot:
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[ID: a code consisting of colorful squares, translated to letters that spell out: "he never sleeps he never dreams but somehow still he hears their screams." End ID] (screenshot courtesy of @fexiled)
The context of the page implies these "screams" come to Bill especially when he listens to TV static, and the broader context of the book implies that these are the screams of his destroyed home dimension, Euclydia. Therefore, not necessarily those of the souls he devoured, from Zimtrex 5 and possibly other dimensions.
Except... do those two things really have to be mutually exclusive?
The beings that Bill devoured were accumulated over "trillions" of years, plural, according to Grebley. In Weirdmageddon 1, Bill claims to have resided in the Nightmare Realm for precisely "one trillion" years. So the "devouring" habit probably extends back even further than his time in the Nightmare Realm...
Enter @acetyzias, pointing out a very conspicuous word — and one of the only uncensored words — from Bill's description of destroying his home dimension:
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[ID: the word "mandibles". End ID.]
Oh, and how does Bill describe the "monster" that destroyed his home to Ford, when Ford asks about revenge?
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[ID: Journal excerpt reading: "Sixer, it would eat you alive." End ID.]
For a long time, Bill's destruction of his home has been associated with fire, even when the story's told by Bill himself. But through the way the book characterizes Bill's guilt — and characterizes how the consequences of what he's done remain lurking deep inside him — I think The Book of Bill lays out the hints for another motif: devouring.
And, well, when it comes to how Bill destroys things... it wouldn't be without precedent.
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[ID: screenshot of Bill in Weirdmageddon 3, taking a bite out of the Earth. End ID.]
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hxnbi · 4 months
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⸻ ღ ❝ WHAT IF I... ❞
you pop the question, asking him, “what if i disappeared one day?" to gauge his reaction
ft. hayato suo, yamato endo, choji tomiyama, umemiya hajime, ren kaji, haruka sakura, kyotaro sugishita, jo togame x gn. reader (separate)
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ღ HAYATO SUO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
He tilts his head to the side. "Whatever do you mean by that?" A brief flash of confusion crossed SUO's face before the ever-present smile of his returned.
"I mean, like, what if I just, from out of nowhere, went poof one day? What would you do?" you clarified with a smile. 
You couldn't quite figure out what was going through his mind as he let out a pensive hum, his index finger rhythmically tapping against his cheek, appearing to be in a deep moment of thought. Granted, you never did know what Suo is thinking about, but something appeared to be different this time.
Suo knew that the question you asked was a mere hypothetical, similar to the ones where you'd find on random scenarios online—meant to be a casual inquiry intended to gauge his reaction, so he didn't give it much concern. In fact, he leaned into it.
"Well then, if that's the case, as your boyfriend." He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "It's only right for me to find you and make sure you’re safe, isn't it?" 
He says it so matter-of-factly with a hefty amount of confidence that undoubtedly makes your heart flutter. There's no hesitation, no doubt in his voice, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. But the outside is indeed never what it appears to be, but also what can be the most deceiving. Suo doesn't worry too much about your question upfront, but there would be times when his mind would wander, drifting back to that single conversation that haunted his thoughts. What implored you to ever ask him that? 
And so, over the next few days and weeks, Suo would watch you with even more attentiveness than he already did, which was already considerable. Being by your side meant everything to him, and he couldn't imagine life without you if that were to ever ring true. After a few days of thinking, Suo's answer has not changed and will never change, but the realm of possibility that you might disappear will forever linger in his mind.
ღ YAMATO ENDO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
ENDO, with his piercing, sweatdropping gaze, doesn't even take a minute to look at you, and, instead, at himself. Not in the literal sense, but inwardly. He scrutinizes his every action, every word, trying to decipher what could he could’ve done or said to have prompted such a question from you.
"Disappear?" he asks with a tone of sharp curiosity as he finally meets your nervous gaze. "Is that what you really want?"
Cupping his chin, all with the expression that he's about to beat someone half to death, Endo takes a quiet moment to himself and thinks about your question more thoroughly, which only makes you more anxious, in all honesty. 
With a sheepish laugh, you attempted to steer the conversation to a different subject, but Endo was having none of it. His intense focus was right then and there for you to answer.
Endo sits back down, covering his face with his calloused hand, letting out a low chuckle, "You must be either naive or plain stupid if you ever think that's going to happen on my watch.”
"H-Huh?"
"Because you're never leaving me." Endo’s voice carries utter conviction, a lifelong promise wrapped in a singular statement.
Endo snickers a bit from your seemingly adorable reaction before fading into an expression of distaste. His eyes bore into yours, filled with an emotion you can't quite place. "I don't know what brought this on, but let me make one thing clear. You're not going anywhere. Not without me."
He reaches out, his hand finding yours, gripping it firmly. You can feel the roughness of his skin, the callousness from all his previous fights, the strength in his hold, and it grounds you. A chuckle escapes him as he leans back, the seriousness melting away as a mischievous grin spreads across his face from ear to ear. "Besides, who else is going to put up with your atrocious cooking?"
ღ CHOJI TOMIYAMA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
CHOJI takes a moment to think. "Hmmm, well then. I'll just find you again! Simple and easy! Don’t you think?!”
You laugh alongside him, not having the heart to continue the conversation. But unbeknownst to you, Choji's light-hearted response hides a deeper concern. Choji may act childish, but he's not stupid. He knows that he's not perfect, and in fact, he's a very flawed human being who has done far more harm than he'd ever like to admit, and certainly not to his lover…
Thus, throughout the day, you would be subjected to Choji clinging onto you. Whether you like it or not, he becomes your shadow, sticking to you like glue. As for bathroom breaks? Well, sucks to be you, that's not going to happen without him hovering nearby like a mosquito.
You knew what this meant. Choji's playful manner masks the underlying fear of losing you, and he doesn't let you out of his sight. Whether it's following you to the kitchen or tagging along to every errand, Choji's constant presence lingering over your every move is both endearing and slightly overwhelming. He jokes and laughs, trying to keep the mood light, but you can see the worry in his eyes whenever he thinks you're not looking. It's clear that the thought of being without you is something he can't bear. Just thinking about how his life would be if you left was enough of a nightmare that he decides that possibility would never be considered.
Choji's answer remains constant, but don't let that fool.
ღ HAJIME UMEMIYA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
UMEMIYA is immediately alarmed by your question, pausing right in the midst of caring for his plants to turn to you with a rather distressed frown that deepened with every second. He jumps to grab your arm, perhaps in fear of you leaving right then and there, and asks with a nervous laugh, "Ahah… you're joking, right?”
…Was this supposed to be some kind of dare from Hiragi or Tsubaki?
And his grip will not loosen until you tell him every single detail, tenfold. Unlike the usual energetic demeanour he broadcasts to the world, Umemiya doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's worried, scared, terrified even, with all but the absolute worst scenarios surfacing in his mind. Were you being threatened in some way because of him? Or… was it something about him?
On the surface, he knows that you asked that question in a hypothetical sense, but that doesn't lessen his fear that it could happen, and your bringing it up helped trigger it. His past memories come right back to haunt him again.
And without thinking, Umemiya embraces you in a bone-crushing hug. "I-I don't know what made you want to say that. Please… Hit me, get mad at me, yell at me, hate me even, but please, don't ever leave me.”
His grip tightens around you, desperation evident in the way he clings to you as if you might vanish at any moment. You can feel the tremor in his hands, the rapid beat of his heart against your ear. It breaks your heart to see him like this, so vulnerable and afraid. You gently stroked his back, whispering soothing words to calm his frayed nerves. Slowly, his breathing steadies, and he relaxes a bit in your arms, but the fear in his eyes still remains. It's clear that the thought of losing you terrifies him more than anything else.
His mind races, no, refuses to accept the thought of you ever disappearing from him. His answer was clear. He was never going to let that happen, not without a reason for closure. And so, Umemiya's efforts to spend more time with you would only be further amplified from there. 
Waking up in the morning? Umemiya would be out your door soon enough with a bed-in-breakfast. Getting groceries? Umemiya will once again be there to be your personal bag-handler and bodyguard. You'd have to reassure him plenty in order to convince him that nobody is out to get you and that you aren’t in danger by any means. But even then, that was not going to work either, oh no. 
As the leader of Furin, Umemiya would make sure that you were protected at all times, sending only the best and closest friends to watch over you and make sure that you were safe. Sakura would snort and mutter under his breath, clicking his tongue, "that guy is overdoing it," only to receive a stern but anxious look from Nirei and a withering glare from Hiragi and especially, if in the presence of the man himself, Umemiya, would receive a look that could shoot literal bullets right into his skull.
How on earth could you tell him by that point that it was all a joke…?
ღ REN KAJI ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
Admittedly, KAJI does not think much of it as he continues to listen to his music with your head resting comfortably on his lap. What do you mean you're just going to leave? Without him? Impossible. 
He hums before going back to indulging his lollipop, which, by all means, was his solace. But later on, Kaji's mind drifts back to the question you asked. His eyebrows fold into two thinly knitted lines as he processes what could ever be your reasoning for asking such a thing. Not even the most relaxing of music could calm his mind as he begins to overthink every little detail of your relationship, replaying every conversation, every moment you've shared, searching for clues or hints he might have missed that made you want to think that.
The thought of you leaving gnaws at him—a rather unsettling and even unfamiliar feeling that he can't shake off no matter how hard he tries. Kaji debates with himself whether to bring it up with you again or let it slide, not wanting to seem insecure but also desperate for reassurance and that what he heard wasn't actually true.
His heart races with each passing thought, and he finds himself pacing back and forth while outside your school building, awaiting you to come out, trying to make sense of his swirling emotions. That is, until you ask him with a confused frown what he was doing.
He doesn't wait for a response but instead pulls you straight into his arms. Kaji grabs both your shoulders and apologizes. He stares right into your wide eyes, and he finally confesses, "If you disappeared… then I wouldn't know what to do with myself."
Kaji gulps in the air like someone who's drowned. He hardly even knew what to do with himself, just pondering the answer about a mere possibility. If that ever came to fruition, he'd be utterly lost. Though he guards his heart carefully, he's unrestrained with his body, whether for comfort or for pleasure.
He holds you firmly. Implacably. He will hold you all night if needs must, and throughout the day. His grip shifts to a tight hug as if trying to squeeze out all the sadness with his strong arms. "So please, don't."
With a heartfelt sigh, the tightness in your shoulders relaxed and you caressed his back with a gentle hand, all while comforting with your voice—the same voice Kaji grew to love with all his heart.
ღ HARUKA SAKURA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
Rolls his eyes. "What do you mean you're just going to disappear?" SAKURA clicks his tongue. "As if that's ever going to happen."
But in reality, despite his outward words, Sakura is far more concerned than he initially lets on. His composure can only stretch so far until he loses it. Quite literally. He may put on a brave face, but the thought of you vanishing haunts him. He starts by subtly interrogating your friends, your family, and anyone who might know something. His questions are cloaked in casual conversation—well, as casual as Sakura thinks—but the urgency in his eyes betrays his true feelings.
He becomes much more protective from then on, always by your side, watching you with a worried gaze that he often tries to mask. But you, in fact, do notice the change, the way Sakura hovers a little closer to you when he's, without exception, extremely volatile to physical touch, his touches lingering a little longer, and his blatant need for confirmation that you're not going to leave. 
Until, one day, out of nowhere, Sakura answered the question. "If you leave… then I won't stop until I find you. That's it," he muttered in a voice so low that you could hardly believe it, your eyes widening in surprise.
"Haru, could you say that again?" you asked, voice trembling with emotion.
“Huh?”
“Just now, could you repeat it?”
Sakura grumbled, scrunching his flushed crimson face into a grimace. "Y-You idiot!! I already said it!!!"
"But I want to hear it again…" you pouted, feigning sadness, making Sakura blush even further, his ears a deep crimson.
"Tch… I'm just telling you, if you disappear one day, I'm just going to find you, and I'll keep trying until I do."
ღ KYOTARO SUGISHITA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
SUGISHITA is eerily silent. Usually, that wouldn't be as much cause for concern, but there was something different in Sugishita's expression that unnerved you. Disappearing? That was a joke, right? No… you probably meant something else. You did mention that you planned to go out to buy groceries later that week. Could it be because of that? Or perhaps…
Sugishita, in his inward panic, grabs your arm with a grip tight enough to completely cut off the blood circulation to the rest of your body. "You're… going to leave? How? …When? W-Why?"
You could see that Sugishita was becoming increasingly anxious, his mind seeming to be practically in another dimension. With a pat on his head, you reassure him that you meant it all as a hypothetical question and that you aren't going to leave by any means. But the damage had been done. Sugishita, being the worrywart, needed far more confirmation than just that.
And just like Choji, for the next few days, Sugishita would be watching your moves like a hawk, standing at your side, towering over you. His eyes follow your every move. His piercing eyes staring into your soul felt almost suffocating, but it was clear that he couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even for a single moment.
Umemiya, with his usual bravado, burst out into laughter as he claps Sugishita's flushed cheeks repeatedly, reassuring him once more that it was nothing but a mere misunderstanding and a curiosity for his answer on his part. Hiragi agreed, nodding his head along.
Nonsense, Sugishita thinks with a wry face. He will be the one to ensure your safety, replaced by a type of intensity that makes you feel, while protected, also slightly on edge with the burning stare that he insists on maintaining to keep watch, even when you shoo him away.
You knew that his actions came from a place of love from when you initially asked him that question, but even so, did you really need him to stand outside your classroom door…?
ღ JO TOGAME ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡
Your words would kick his mind into gear almost instantaneously. TOGAME's thoughts raced, his aloof demeanour spinning around in circles like a pertueral carousel as he considered the possibility. Togame eventually came to the harrowing conclusion that he wasn't enough for you, that you felt neglected, or worse, unhappy being with him. 
He stared at you, his eyes wide. "What do you mean by 'disappear'?" he asked, his voice trembling a bit despite his efforts to keep it steady.
Just the mere thought of that made his stomach churn and his chest tighten. He couldn't bear the idea of losing you, even if through the lens of a mere hypothetical question. Togame, usually so stoic and composed, felt his facade crumble before your very eyes. Regardless, he was still intent on proving his worth and winning you back, all in the name of rectifying whatever he had failed to do.
You could see the pure, unfiltered, raw emotion in his eyes, the sheer terror of losing you. "Oh no, Jo, I didn't mean it seriously! I was just curious," you said In hopes of smoothing him, but the worry etched on his face didn't fade.
"...it's not something I can just ignore," he said, voice growing firmer. "If you ever feel that way, if you ever think about leaving, please, talk to me first and we can communicate… Let me fix whatever is wrong. l, whatever it is. Because the thought of you not being in my life is unbearable…" He reached out, taking your hands in his shaky ones. “You want to know my answer? I would search for you everywhere, and do anything to bring you back. You mean far too much to me to just let you go…”
His vulnerability was laid bare, even to your own surprise, who didn't expect this from a mere question. But that’s just it. It wasn’t a mere question to him.
Togame would do anything to prove his love to you, to ensure that you never felt the need to ask such a question again. And in that, he certainly succeeded, because you would never doubt his devotion to you again, not that you did to begin with, but knew that it was a slippery slope and a topic to avoid when with him.
But, for good measure, after that conversation fiasco, Togame had taken up a new hobby. And you were more than happy until you realized what that "hobby" of his entailed, as friends or practically anybody who was an unfortunate passerby, would immediately notice a bodyguard-like figure constantly by your side. That is, until they saw the brute clinging onto you like a man desperate for even a whiff of your attention.
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©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
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yamujiburo · 6 months
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Why I Love Hanamusa
I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:
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First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.
I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!
Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!
It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.
Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.
Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.
All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs. 
Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.
Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.
There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.
I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.
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coolpuppy12 · 22 days
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Introducing the Doo Doo Save File - Version One!
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Disclaimer:
This save is still very much a work in progress. While most things appear to be complete (such as builds), there's still a lot to be done. So, keep that in mind. Also, I tried my best to playtest everything, but this is a HUGE save. So, it's possible I missed things. If I did, feel free to let me know!
TOU:
Please don't claim as your own. Don't reupload my builds as your own. Basically, don't be weird. Just give credit please as this took centuries to do lol.
Special Thanks!
EDIT: Ahhh! Big thank you to @lasabarcassims for helping me set up SimFileShare! Please check out their save as well. It’s amaaaazing.
Shout out to @aaliyahnavI @doit4thesims @forever-lbsims @senselesssims for playtesting this monstrosity. I greatly appreciate you all!
Thanks to @simmerapple (gallery: ImpossibleBelle) and @simkuza (Gallery: Mimilagu) for checking out the save and sending some of their amazing sims to use!
Lastly, I want to thank everyone for their continued support and encouragement! When I started this thing, I was just bored and looking for a way to improve my game. I honestly did not expect to finish it, nor did I expect so many of you to care lol. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. It's still very rough around the edges, but I hope it brings you some enjoyment!
Also, don't hesitate to tag me in any posts! I want to see my precious Doo Doo brought to life!
Doo Doo V1 (with rentals): download here!
Doo Doo V1 (without rentals): download here!
MORE INFO AND SCREENSHOTS BELOW:
Here is an overview of everything:
16 worlds redone (Mt. Komorebi, Sulani, Selvadorada, and Tomarang still need some TLC)
Some updated townies with lore, relationships, jobs, etc. etc.
New townies!
New clubs and holidays
LOTS of packs used, so not BG friendly
For Version 2, I hope to finish this save completely. When will that be? That's a good question lol
What's not included:
All the packs - I don't own (and probably never will lol) HSY, Werewolves, Lovestruck, and MWS. Also missing most of the kits.
Specialty lots (i.e. police station, magic realm) won't be touched until Ver. 2
CC and Tips
I did use one piece of CC, but it is absolutely not required in order to download this save. It's the Modern Family Portrait by RAVASHEEN! Download only if you want some cute portraits of the families.
For this save, I grouped some of the worlds together. You don't have to play this way, it's just a note to consider:
Oasis Springs, Del Sol Valley, and StrangerVille
Newcrest, Willow Creek, and Magnolia Promenade
Windenburg, Forgotten Hallow, Glimmerbrook, and Henford
San Myshuno, Brindleton Bay
San Sequoia and Evergreen Harbor
The other worlds? They're just on their own for now.
PHOTOS!
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i2sunric · 1 month
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𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (p.sh)
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PAIRING: knight!sunghoon x queen!reader (f)
SUMMARY: after your parents death, you were forced to be crowned queen of the north realm and decided to take a young sergeant as your personal guard. however, you can’t ignore the evident tension between the two of you, that will lead to some… illicit affairs. well, it never happened if nobody knows, right?
WARNINGS: 1800s au. mentions of war and death, fencing terms, sexual tension, unprotected sex (they didn’t have condoms, did they?), masturbation, dirty talk, missionary, fingering, cream pie, angst if you squint (like, really squint), mentions of scars, pet names (sweetheart), i abused the world ‘would’. i know. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 20th August 2024
WC: 6k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey y @destinyhoon (oneshot) @indigoez @astratlantis @shuichi-sama @skaterhoon @simsungsims @hoonatic @sammie217 @hoonics @kissesforthefangirl @woorcve @laurradoesloveu @capri-cuntz @whateverhoon @woninluv @cyjhhyj @alienqbrain BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.
NOW PLAYING: War Of Hearts by Ruelle
a/n: honestly, i don’t like it. the idea was good, the outcome not so, but let me know your thoughts. i literally don’t know old english, my knowledge comes from pride and prejudice and bridgerton, im sorry (i gave up by the end and it shows). please LIKE & REBLOG (or don’t, cause this is the worst fic i’ve ever written lol)
You hadn’t realised just how drastically your life could change overnight until you woke up to the news that your father, the ever so powerful king of the North realm, had died in war.
Soon, your teachers were making you learn about strategies and alliances, not about history anymore, your legions kneeled before you, ready to be at your service.
You had to watch your mother, the woman you looked up to, being consumed by the grief of her dead husband until the grim reaper decided to make them reunite.
Leaving you all alone. Helpless, bearing a burden so heavy it crashed your shoulders.
In just the span of a month you found yourself leading a kingdom through war, sending hundreds of warriors to their death sentence.
The crown weighed significantly on your head, your desk was full of scrambled letters and quills dripping ink, and if it wasn’t for your most-trusted maid, Ella, you would’ve certainly already died of hunger, leaving your people without a ruler.
Fortunately, the same day of your coronation, the first day of you being a queen was also the first day of a young sergeant.
He was the youngest of all, just like you being the youngest of the monarchs, and was leading the loyal legion.
Doing a better job than you, you had to say. He was diligent, perfect in his tasks and polite whenever you interpellated him.
His name was Park Sunghoon, and it didn’t take much for you to nominate him as your personal royal guard.
He was an attractive man, barely a couple of years older than you but he indeed towered you by much.
Sunghoon’s face was sharp, with a defined jawline and hardly any trace of baby-fat left.
Despite his frail appearance, you knew he had defined muscles hidden under his white guard uniform, you had seen it.
Even if you were busy with your tight schedule, especially after your coronation, you still found the time to peek at him.
In the morning he’d train the royal legions, helping new warriors. In the afternoon, he would follow you through your travels around the realm, visiting villages and other castles.
The days you stayed at the castle he’d occupy his afternoons by doing some training alone and some evenings he would stand out of your bedroom to guard.
And Sunghoon? Well, he was as attracted to you as you were.
It always sent jolts of excitement whenever he was around you, walking you to your activities and always keeping an eye for possible harms.
Especially one day, when Ella ran towards him with a bucket full of water when he was guarding your bedroom “Sergeant!” She panted, “Please, would you be so kind to bring this into her majesty’s room? I need to get another one.”
Sunghoon was quick to nod “Of course.” He replied politely and took the heavy — for her, not so for him — bucket from her hands.
Ella sincerely thanked him and hurried away to complete her task while the young guard opened your bedroom door.
When his eyes raised to your figure, he saw you standing there… naked. Probably expecting your maid to enter and certainly not your personal guard.
Your hands quickly shot to cover your dignity, your cheeks tinting a deep shade of pink as you breathed “Dear lord.”
Had he been more reckless, he would’ve dropped the bucket, but he managed to keep his polite demeanour.
“My sincere apologies, my lady, I should’ve knocked.” He turned slightly to the side so as not to look at you, but still managed to peek from the corner of his eye.
“D-doesn’t matter..” You murmured, reaching for the nightgown on the chair of the desk and quickly slipping it on “I just didn’t expect it to be… you, sergeant.”
Sunghoon nodded, “Where do you want me to place this?” He asked, raising the container of water.
You stepped aside, hugging your arms like you were afraid your nightgown could reveal your body to him once more. Not like he would complain.
“Inside the tub would be great.” You replied, watching as he lifted the bucket and dropped the hot water in it.
Sunghoon dared to look at you only then, bowing his head slightly “I apologise again. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”
You let out a small breath and offered him a warm smile. You were always so kind and thoughtful to everyone, it made him want to lock those who dared to criticise you in the dungeons and make them all perish.
“Worry not,” Your voice was gentle, like a ray of sunshine through the storm “I forgive you, after all, it was an accident.”
Sunghoon thought that if he ever had the chance to take a glimpse at your perfect, naked body, he would’ve taken it right away.
But he chose against letting you know and opted for a “Thank you, my queen.” He bowed, “Anything else you need for me?”
“No, thank you.” You said “You can go back to your duty.”
He nodded and headed to the door, hesitating for a second and then walked out.
The image of your naked body was hard to remove from his mind. Sergeant.
Your curves, your dips, the colour of your skin, your breasts and your pretty pussy… Sergeant?
He wondered what you would feel like if he touched you, tasted you— “Sergeant!”
The voice of one of the royal guards snapped Sunghoon out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat “Yes?”
“It’s my turn,” He said, his eyes blinking faintly “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes, worry not.” Sunghoon nodded and gave his farewell to the guard before walking to his chamber.
Since you had labelled him worthy of being your personal knight, his bedroom was in the same wing as yours, unlike all the other knights in the legion that stayed in the West wing.
He entered his chamber and closed the door behind his back, the room was dark except for the moonlight shining from the window.
It was better that way, he enjoyed the natural light, rather than the artificial one from the candles that also smelled bad and spread smoke in the room.
Sunghoon sighed, quickly removing his uniform to put on some more comfortable clothes, some black pants and a white, sleeved shirt.
He dropped down on the bed, another quiet sigh leaving his lips.
He rested one of his arms behind his head while he played mindlessly with the laces of his shirt.
It was stronger than him, his mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again.
Your body.
Perhaps, it was that you were so modest, despite literally being the ruler of the kingdom, or it was the fact that you were literally his type.
But he was drawn to you, the same way a donkey was to the apple in front of him. Maybe not the best example, but you get it.
At the thought of your flushed face, he felt his pants growing tighter. At your plump and tender lips, he palmed himself to soothe his growing desire.
At the memory of your perky nipples and your breasts, his hand slipped inside his trousers until he pulled them down to his ankles.
Sunghoon knew he couldn’t be loud, but the soft whimpers and groans that left his lips weren’t contained.
He imagined it was your hand, the one providing him relief, that you were down on your knees, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Oh yes, you’re so good.” He whispered, squeezing the base of his thick cock, it twitched.
The tip was angry red as he heavenly stroked it, never focusing on one place more than the other.
If it were you, would you lick his tip? Would you squeeze his balls and take him in your mouth?
Would you ever fit him all?
“Take my cock,” He groaned, thrusting his hips upward to fuck his fist “Take it like a good girl.”
He pressed two fingers on the tip of his length, edging himself “You like to tease, my lady?”
So many filthy scenes played in his mind, keeping him company as he felt the sweet sensation in his lower stomach.
“I’m so close, sweetheart.” He groaned, moving his hand so fast it almost hurt his wrist “You want it on your breasts? Of course.” He kept moving until he saw white, “Take it.”
He was left spent, dirty white all over his sheets as he tried to even his breath.
Sunghoon fell asleep with a smile on his face that night, and he woke up even better after you visited his dreams and showed him how much you wanted him.
…Too bad it wasn’t real, right?
𓆩♡𓆪
After your little and awkward interaction with Sunghoon, the previous evening, you decided to go find him during his late afternoon training.
You would’ve lied if you were to say it didn’t turn you on, the thought of being seen by him in such an intimate manner. But that, he mustn’t know.
He was wearing a black sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers of the same colour, a great contrast with his skin.
You quietly tip-toed, walking towards as he stroked in the air with the fencing sword.
His movements were calculated, precise and so mesmerising you hadn’t even realised you were right behind him until the blade stopped right beside your jugular.
You gulped “Good evening.” Sunghoon widened his eyes and quickly placed himself into a more polite position, removing the swords from your neck “I'm so sorry, my lady, I didn’t see you coming.”
You just smiled at him “You seem excellent at fencing.” You commented, your fingertips trailing the blade of the sword, careful not to cut yourself.
“Fencing is one of my favourite parts of training, my queen.” He replied, his tone serious.
You hummed “Is that so?” The way the sunset kissed his skin, how his hair was perfectly combed and matched with his fit looked straight out of the erotic novels you hid under your bed.
“I’ve always wanted to learn this type of art.” You informed him “Though, it would be too scandalous for a woman to do it, wouldn’t it?”
Sunghoon’s gaze was soft as he commented “There’s nothing scandalous in wanting to be able to defend yourself.” He threw you a french sword “Even if you have a whole legion before you.”
You swiftly caught it, circling around Sunghoon while he did the same.
“Nah ah,” He was quick to correct “Eyes on the enemy’s, never on the sword.” You diverted your gaze from the sword to his chocolate, warm eyes.
“Great,” Sunghoon praised. “You must study your enemy if you have the time, watch his body language.”
He stroked again and you barely missed it. A second time and you docked it.
At the third, you blocked it “You slightly blink your right eye when you strike.”
Sunghoon smiled proudly, “Yes, that’s right.” You squealed happily, making him slightly widen his eyes.
If it wasn’t the best sound he’d ever heard.
“Now, your strike isn’t bad, especially in second and third, but your position can be better.” He dropped his sword and walked behind you.
“Bend your knees.” He commanded and you obliged again, following his instructions “Your arm shouldn’t stay that far… tilt your elbow.”
“Your back is already straight,” His fingers trailed the laces of your corset, feeling your spine underneath them “But your chin should be tilted… like this.” He tipped your chin up with his index finger.
“How about how?” You whispered breathlessly, feeling the coldness of his skin against your burning one.
“Better, but not perfect.” Sunghoon replied and quickly put space between the two of you “Still, you’re one of my best students.”
You smiled happily and was about to reply when Ella called you from afar because dinner was being served.
You sighed “I must go.” You said, slightly hoping he would keep you with him.
However, obviously, he just nodded and bowed. “It has been a pleasure, my lady.”
As he watched you walk away, he hoped you hadn’t felt the proof of his desire pressed against your back when he fixed your position… the proof he had to fix before anyone could notice.
𓆩♡𓆪
Sunghoon’s footsteps echoed through the dark hallway as he made his way to your room. He wasn’t sure about the reason as to why you called him, given the fact that he was supposed to be patrolling the main gates, but it seemed clear when he noticed you had already sent the guard outside your room to rest.
He stood in front of your bedroom door, the hallway only dimly lit by the few candles on the walls.
There was something in his mind that told him he was still in time to turn his heels and simply ignore your late-night visit request, even if it would eventually get him in trouble.
Still, he aight and placed his hand on the doorknob, quietly opening your bedroom door and entering.
Out of precaution, he locked the door behind him and made a few steps towards you, nevertheless keeping some distance.
“My queen,” Sunghoon began, “I thought you’d be asleep by now.” His tone was quiet, almost concerned.
You were standing in front of the large window that gave you a nice view of the royal gardens, the moonlight illuminating the room as well as a few candles on the tables.
Despite the late hours, you were still wearing your pistachio green gown, your favourite one. The one that once belonged to your mother.
It gave you a sense of comfort, reminiscing the days where you would drown in the fabric as you played queen and princess with her.
You deeply wished it was still a game.
“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” You replied, still giving him your back.
Sunghoon cleared his throat. Yes, he’d seen you in that gown the same morning, but now, in the intimacy of your chamber, it made him want to drop to his knees.
He made his way so that he was standing just a few steps behind you “Any particular reason for your lack of sleep?” He inquired.
You sighed softly. The moon made your doe eyes sparkle, as if they held the stars in them, “Perhaps, thoughts of the upcoming war.”
Sunghoon’s hands hitched to hold yours, to give you the comfort you needed without any paternal figure to rely on.
Still, he kept them clasped behind his back. The need to be respectful of your position was still in the front of his mind.
“It is not confirmed yet,” He tried to reassure “The other kingdoms may decide not to attack anymore.”
You tried to find reassurance in his words, but even if your people thought so, you weren’t naïve. “They killed my father,” You gulped. “It’s just a matter of time before they come at me next.”
And that was true, everytime you ever tried to close your eyes to seek some rest, your mind would play any possible scenario.
You being slayed, you being beheaded… your kingdom going in flames.
“No one will touch you,” His voice was soothing, like a hand pulling you out of deep water, preventing you from drowning “Not while I’m here.”
You finally allowed yourself to look at him, afraid that if you did it the second you heard the key of your room twisting you would’ve kissed him.
His hair was still perfectly in place, his forehead in sight. His porcelain-like skin glowing under the rays of the moon, caressing his cheeks.
You offered him a polite smile “You seem confident, sergeant.”
Sunghoon let the briefest of a smile form on his lips “Confidence comes with the job,” He said, softly “It is my duty to protect you, my queen, and I take that very seriously.
“What else does your job offer?” You asked, fully turning your body towards him “Apart from private fencing lessons and a twenty-four-seven guarding.”
His breath hitched slightly when you stood in front of him, he hadn’t even realised the vicinity you two had until he had to tilt his head down to stare at you. It would be so easy to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his hands.
Sunghoon’s gaze slowly dragged from your chest up to your face. “That’s it, mainly,” He said, his voice a little rougher than before. “Though… my duties extend to anything you ask of me, my queen.”
“Anything?” You murmured quietly, your eyes widening.
He wanted to touch you so badly, to pull you against him so he could kiss you and touch you anywhere and everywhere. But he had to keep the professional veil going, even though he knew you were baiting him.
He nodded, his eyes on yours “Anything at all.”
You batted your eyelashes, trying to seduce him without boldly doing so “Is that so, sergeant?”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, struggling to keep his composure and hoping you weren’t able to see the effect of your presence.
He took a deep breath before replying “Yes, anything you ask of me.”
You gulped, your heart pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to put into action your plan “I believe I need to unwind,” You stated “Any ideas?”
Sunghoon’s mind was immediately flooded with ideas, most of them very, very inappropriate for the moment. He bit his lip and tried to keep a straight face.
He considered keeping up the professional front but quickly decided against it. He was tired of forcing himself to maintain control.
“I do have a few ideas, my queen,” He said, his voice a low rumble. “Mind sharing them with me?” You asked.
Sunghoon stepped closer to you, so close that your bodies were almost touching. “My ideas may not be entirely appropriate, my queen,” He replied, “Would you like to hear them anyway?”
You closed briefly your eyes, just the brief feeling of his body near yours sending jolts of fire through your veins “I’m all ears.”
His eyes roamed over your face and body, taking in every single detail. He was practically salivating, desperate to touch you in any way possible.
Sunghoon leaned even closer, his breath now hot on your skin. “I have things I'd like to do, my queen,” He whispered in your ear. “Wicked things, to distract you from your stress.”
You let out a shaky breath, shivering from head to toe “Wicked?” You questioned.
Sunghoon felt his control slip as chuckled slowly, “Oh, very wicked, my lady.”
He brought his lips to your neck, planting soft kisses up and down your skin, taking you by surprise.
However, he kept his hands firmly by his sides, restraining himself from wandering. “I want to do things that would be highly inappropriate for a sergeant to do to his queen.”
“And who says so?” You breathed out, aching for him, your eyes flattering closed.
Sunghoon hummed against your skin, his lips moving to your collarbone. “That would be the royal laws,” He replied quietly, “Among other things.”
“I could get punished for this, you know.” He said in between kisses. “My actions are considered disrespectful.”
“I could change the law,” You replied, hooking your arms around his neck “For the night.”
His hands immediately went to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you even closer to him. “Just for the night, my queen?” He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your jaw “I might want more than just one night.”
You chuckled lowly, “How do you know so already, sergeant?”
sunghoon’s hands moved from your hips to your thighs, caressing them through your nightgown, his thumbs tracing patterns against your skin.
Sunghoon pulled back to look at you, his eyes darkened significantly. “I'm quite sure, my queen,” He said, “The things I want to do to you are not something I can do just once.”
You shivered at his words, and the hungry way he was shamelessly looking at you. It almost seemed unreal, the polite soldier losing his cool in front of you, “How about you show me what you can do tonight, first?”
He looked at you, his gaze dark and intense, before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a rough kiss.
You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately, like he was starving.
You tip toed, desperate to reach for him, to feel his lips on yours and make you forget all the duties you had.
Sunghoon chuckled against your lips, amused by your struggle to reach his height. He pulled back, a smirk on his face. “Too short for me, my queen?”
Without warning, he lifted you up with ease, and he continued the kiss.
You wrapped your legs around his waist to steady yourself, thanking yourself for not having worn an underskirt that would’ve made it impossible for you to straddle him.
Sunghoon groaned against your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss becoming more desperate and rougher.
He moved his lips from your mouth and attacked your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he went. One of his hands moved from your thigh to your butt, squeezing it appreciatively.
You groaned and let your head fall back, goosebumps filling your skin in reaction to his lips.
Your fingers tried to tug his blue uniform jacket, desperate to remove any clothing between the two of you.
He gently helped you to remove it, chuckling against your neck at your eagerness.
You rocked your hips, needing to feel him, to soothe the aching sensation between your legs.
He pressed his own hips back onto yours, you could feel the proof of his desire for you, secluded in his pants.
“You have no idea how hard it is not to take you right now,” He thrust upwards, making you gasp.
“What’s stopping you, sergeant?” You asked breathlessly, you knew he was trying to restrict himself, to draw a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
But you didn’t care, all you had in mind was how good his touch was on your skin, his lips on yours and how better it would’ve been if he was inside you.
“Nothing,” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, his breath causing your body to shiver “Absolutely nothing, as long as you’re not opposed to it.”
You chuckled, looking down at yourself “Does it look like I’m against it?”
Your sweet laugh only made him madder and he kissed you, tasting your lips “No, not at all, my queen.”
“Then, take me.” You whispered on his lips, your hand caressing down his arm, still clothed from his sleeved shirt.
Sunghoon shivered under your touch, your words breaking the last strand of self-restraint he had. He grabbed your hips, suddenly carrying you to the bed and dropping you down on it.
He quickly dropped to his knees between your legs, his hands on either side of you, trapping you in “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” He warned.
Your hair formed a halo around your head, spread around the mattress. Your chest was heaving up and down as you replied, “That's fine by me.”
Sunghoon hummed appreciatively at the sight of you splayed out on the bed underneath him. You looked divine, like an angel sent to drive him insane.
He connected his lips to yours once again, his hands moving behind your back as you propped yourself on your elbows.
His skilled fingers worked on the laces of your corset, undoing them.
You frowned, pulling away “Experienced much?”
Sunghoon chuckled softly as he got the corset undone, pulling the fabric off you and discarding it on the floor.
He shook his head before replying, a smirk on his lips. “Just a few,” He said. “and I have been fantasising about this moment for a while now.”
“Have you?” You whispered, your hands caressing his chest, where the v-neckline of the shirt exposed it “Have you thought about me late at night, sergeant?”
Sunghoon sighed softly, his eyes closing briefly as he confessed “Yes,” He said “Every night I’ve wondered what you would taste like, how soft you were, what your moans sounded like.”
His words only made you bolder. “Have you touched yourself wishing it was me?”
Now that the corset wasn’t restricting your air capacity, it also made the dress fall down your shoulder, exposing them to him.
He leaned down and pressed gentle kisses on your skin, trailing them up to your ear “Yes, my queen. I’ve touched myself wishing it was you, craving your body and soul.”
You let out a shaky breath, the sweet sensation warming your lower stomach “Perhaps, I have done the same.”
Sunghoon groaned loudly against your skin, his body shuddering at your confession “You’ve touched yourself, thinking about me?”
You flopped back onto the mattress and hummed “Yes.”
He was completely losing it, the thought of you touching yourself, thinking about him, driving him crazy. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure.
“Tell me more,” He rasped, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me what you've done, what you've imagined."
You bit your bottom lip, afraid to voice out your late night secrets.
“Go on, my queen.” His voice was soft and soothing, his hips just barely pressing against yours “I won’t judge you, I can’t… Can I?” He let out a quiet chuckle.
You breathed out “I’ve thought about your fingers,” You gulped “Touching me in places no one has touched before.”
“Where?” He whispered, his nose grazing your cheek “Tell me.”
Instead of speaking, you took his hand and slowly guided it down your body, you were still covered by your dress but he could still feel your core beating under his touch.
So, in one swift movement he placed his hand under your skirt, feeling just how damp your underthings were, making you gasp.
“You’re so wet for me.” He murmured, “Is this how you are around me?”
You nodded, all drops of self awareness down the drain.
Sunghoon smirked, taking your hand with his free one and placing it on the front of his pants, making you feel his hard on “That’s what you do to me.”
Amazed, you started to palm him, letting your hand feel “I do?”
“Yes,” He whispered, his hips bucking against your touch “All the time.”
“Please,” You pleaded, “I can’t take it anymore, I really need you.”
Sunghoon sighed “There’s no turning back from this, my queen..”
“Y/N.” You blurted out, eyes taking in his reaction.
Without having you to explain, he knew what you meant. You wanted him to call you by your name, crossing a boundary that would be hard to build back.
Still, he reached behind your back and unzipped your dress, slowly slipping it down.
You laid underneath it, the only thing separating you from him was your lace underwear, your upper body bare for him to see.
Sunghoon rested his chest on yours, his fingers grazing your clothed core as he whispered in your ear “Y/N.” Making you moan.
You nodded, your arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself “Sunghoon.” You breathed back.
“Y/N..” He murmured, slipping your panties to the side and teasing your entrance with his digits “My pretty, pretty girl.”
Your eyes flickered closed, senses awakened by his single touch.
“You’ve never done this?” He questioned, gathering all your juices in his fingers, your pussy clenching around nothing.
You shook your head, your mind already a puddle of nothing “No.”
“Then I need to get you all nice and lose, mh?” Sunghoon murmured, inserting one of his fingers inside your wet folds.
You gasped, your back arching against him at the intrusion “Oh lord.”
The sensation was so new but so welcome, you had never really dared to finger yourself, your orgasms were given by clit stimulation only, so when his digit thrust into you, your body jolted with each one.
Sunghoon’s lips attached to your left breath, tongue swirling around your nipple and you thought you couldn’t feel any better until he curled his fingers and found your sweet spot, making you moan out loud.
“Shh,” He cooed, pressing one hand on your mouth while his teeth gently grazed your abused nipple. “You don’t want anyone to find out what we’re doing, don’t you?”
You were quick to shake your head, but as he thrust a second finger in your pussy, you grunted.
One of your hands went to the back of his head, your fingers knotting his perfectly combed hair “S-sunghoon.”
You bucked your hips up, needing him to stop and continue at the same time “Feels so good.”
Sunghoon chuckled lowly, both his fingers brushing against your sweet spot “I know, Y/N.” He murmured “Let me take care of you.”
You nodded mindlessly; you thought that even if he asked you to hand over the kingdom you would’ve nodded anyways.
You whimpered, your other hand digging in the flesh of his shoulders from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.
“I’ve got you.” He whispered, brushing his thumb on your bundle of nerves “Relax.”
You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust of his fingers, just a brief pain from the intrusion making your head spin.
“Oh lord,” You breathed out, “I think I—“ Another broken whimper left your mouth.
Sunghoon nodded, understanding you and crashed his lips on yours, drowning your moans in.
Another thrust of his fingers got you falling apart under him, your whole body trembling.
It took a good couple of minutes and his soothing words to calm you down, your breath still laboured but at least you could keep your body still.
You opened your eyes back and met his own, he offered you a sweet smile “You’re perfect.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.
You smiled back at him, slowly releasing your strong grip around his neck. “This has been… amazing.”
“I’m glad, my— Y/N.” Sunghoon quickly corrected himself, “But… we don’t have to do anything more.”
You frowned, worry coating your features “Was it because you didn’t feel good? I can help—“
He was fast to shake his head. “No, of course not.” He caressed your cheek “I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“You will not.” You sat up, looking inside his eyes to convince him “I want it, Sunghoon, I want it with my whole body and soul.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head, as if he physically restrained himself from reaching out to you and take you in all the ways someone can be taken.
“I want you so much it’s driving me insane,” He breathed out, resting his forehead against your chest “My sweetheart, I would love to make you mine… will you allow me to?”
You nodded “Yes, please.” You tugged at his shirt, needing him to remove it.
Sunghoon complied, tossing it to the floor as well as his trousers, leaving himself bare to you.
At first, you hadn’t understood why he was so reluctant to be intimate with you, but as soon as your eyes met his bare chest, you did.
Your breath hitched at the sight of a wide scar all across his chest, looking like half a cross.
“Sunghoon…” You whispered, your fingers trailed over it. He flinched but quickly relaxed under your gentle touch “What happened to you?”
His eyes were so vulnerable and he looked like a lost boy, not like the sergeant of a legion. “I will just say that I had a close contact with a blade, back when I was still training to become a knight.”
He gulped “I understand if I repulse you—“
“No,” You quickly took his face in your hands “No. You’re beautiful.”
He frowned, as if not understanding what would you ever find beauty in such a scar.
Seeing that he wasn’t believing you, you laid on your back and wrapped your arms around his neck, taking him down with you.
Your hand reached to pump his shaft and it was as if he died and came to life again, nothing like those nights he touched himself thinking about you, could prepare him from this.
You slowly aligned him with your folds and nodded, wanting him to make the first move.
He let out a pained sigh and gripped your waist, finally pushing in you.
You were still wet from the foreplay and as well as your cum, but it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some pain from his thickness.
He moved slowly, his breath fanning your cheeks while he brushed his nose against your skin.
“How does it feel?” Sunghoon whispered in your ear “Mh? Tell me, Y/N.”
Your skin was sweaty and hot, “So good.” You murmured back, tightening your hold on his neck “Faster, please.”
You begged him so sweetly and politely he couldn’t refuse, his hips moving against yours slightly faster “You want to make love?” He questioned “Or do you want me to take you like how I’ve wanted since I laid my eyes on you?”
“Take me.” You choked out, your eyes squeezing from the pleasure “Hard, I don’t care.”
Sunghoon circled your waist with his arm and held you tightly against him, you could feel the shadow of his scar on your chest.
His hips snapped on yours so fast even the bed started creaking, and you secretly hoped no servant was walking by to hear your show.
“Open up.” Sunghoon said and you obliged, opening your mouth.
He gathered some saliva in his mouth before spitting in yours, watching as it went down your throat.
You hummed, gulped it, tasting him “Jesus Christ.” He shook his head, his cock twitching inside of you.
“I don’t think I can last longer.” He squeezed his eyes, his fingers digging in your hips as he tried to restrain himself.
“Don’t you dare unless I cum again.” Your fingers went to stroke your bundle of nerves fast “Together.”
Sunghoon hummed, his own movements getting sloppy but never faltering as he chased his high.
“Y/N.” He groaned, one of his nails piercing your skin, adding just the right amount of pain to send you over the edge.
“Now!” You cried out, your body shaking with your second orgasm of the night.
Sunghoon let out a deep growl and emptied his seed in you, coating your clenching walls.
“So perfect.” He kissed the top of your head, his voice soothing after the intensity of the night “You’re perfect.”
He got up and took a napkin from your table, carefully cleaning your legs while also prepping kisses on your inner thighs.
You were sure that if your body wasn’t tired you would’ve mounted him.
Sunghoon reached into his clothes but your hand darted out to stop him “Stay.”
His eyes softened, pondering between staying or leaving. He opted for the first.
You had never felt happier than falling asleep with the sound of his heartbeat next to your ear, aimlessly hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.
But your relationship made it so that he was forced to peel himself away from you when he thought you were asleep, gathering his clothes and quietly slipping out of your room.
And it was the best decision, soon, you would’ve had to find a husband, make an heir for your real, rule it with all your attention.
Good thing, late night was made to unwind, and it never happened if nobody knew… did it?
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enigmaris · 4 months
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All Father Thor, King of Asgard,
A new ruler of Hel has been chosen, the fearsome King Phantom, defeater of Pariah Dark. It is time for Asgard to prepare to pay the dues required to keep peace between the realms of the gods and of the dead. Bring the terms of your surrender to King’s Phantom’s representative on earth, Daniel James Fenton of Amity Park.
The Noble Scribe of King Phantom,
Ghost Writer
*****
“Okay so let me get this straight,” Tony Stark, Iron Man and Avenger said. “Ghosts are real.”
“Yes.” King Thor Odinson, Asgardian and god of thunder agreed.
“And they’re evil.”
“A bit of an oversimplification, but yes.” Prince Loki Odinson, sometimes villain and would be planet invader, answered.
“And the ghosts have had one ruler, the most powerful ghost in existence. And that new rulers are chosen by combat, meaning that every new ruler is more powerful than the last.”
“Yes, you’ve got the idea.” Thor said looking down at his knees for a moment.
“And since ghosts are so evil and so powerful, that means that their ruler is practically an unstoppable force of destruction.”
“Doesn’t it sound delightful?” Loki asked, to which he received a glare.
“So, for the past 10,000 years, at least, Asgard and plenty of other realms have been paying taxes to the ghost king to avoid a war. A racketeering scheme.”
“I don’t know what a racketeering scheme is but yes, the ghost peace treaty does require that Asgard pay the ghost king gold and magical weapons every century and if we fail to pay that price, then the peace treaty will be broken and Asgard will likely be forfeit.”
“That’s a racketeering scheme!”
“Well then yes.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. It was clear the man’s headache was only growing stronger as he walked through the information the two gods had dumped into his lap this morning. Thor and Loki both had rushed into his lab and started babbling about world ending threats and how they might possibly be absolutely screwed.
“So, now there’s a new king. Which means a new peace treaty has to be signed.” Tony said the words ‘peace treaty’ in the same way he’d say ‘nuclear bomb’ or ‘Steve Rogers’.
“I thought you said it was a racketeering scheme?” Loki asked.
“Shut it.” Tony hissed.
“A new treaty must be signed.” Thor repeated, trying to keep the three of them on track.
“And since the last king Pariah Dark was so powerful that he made the entirety of Asgard tremble, you’re pretty sure this new king, Phantom, is probably worse.”
“Pariah Dark had the power to suck entire planets into the afterlife, destroying them,” Loki said looking at his nails. “Stands to reason that a ghost powerful enough to defeat him could do much, much worse.”
“Right. Fantastic!” Tony practically shouted.
“I don’t think anything about this is fantastic.” Thor admitted, he was ignored.
“And according to you Asgard has been paying the ghost tax for both their realm and ours since we were under Odin’s protection. And since Hela and Sutur destroyed your entire planet and your entire people are refugees, now we have to figure out how to keep an ultrapowerful ghost from wiping out our home without any way of paying him.”
“Technically we don’t know if Phantom is a ‘he’.” Loki pointed out unhelpfully.
“The letter literally says he’s a king!”
“Could be a title. What do the dead have need for gender?”
“This is not the point of this discussion,” Thor cut in before an argument about the usefulness of gender and the concept of a female king burst forth. “We’re here to figure out how to make peace with King Phantom without resulting in a war that would destroy our world and our peoples.”
“We don’t even have Earth’s mightiest heroes anymore.” Loki said, referencing the painful results of the civil war and the Accords.
“We’re fucked.” Tony decided.
“Yes,” Thor agreed. “We probably are.”
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svartalfhild · 1 year
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Elf Lore in the Forgotten Realms for BG3 Players who are Unfamiliar
I've been seeing some...uninformed takes lately about certain elf characters from BG3, so let me just throw some stuff out there for y'all to consider.
Elves in FR live to be about 750.
They physically mature at roughly the same rate as humans i.e. 18-20.
Culturally, elves don't consider other elves emotionally mature i.e. adults until the age of 100, at which point they may choose an adult name to go by.
What does this mean, logically? Well, consider their very long lifespan. If you are going to live 750 years, your perspective on wisdom is going to be quite different from a human's. While 60 years might be plenty mature for a human, for an elf, that means you still haven't had enough time to watch all of your shorter lived friends pass, which I imagine is something of an emotional milestone for elves.
Halsin is 350. This means he's just hitting middle-age.
Astarion is 239 (Idle Champions claims he's 350, but I call bullshit because his birth and death dates are literally in BG3 and also IC frequently gives the characters bullshit ages, like they say Jaheira is 36, which couldn't have been true even during BG1). He died at 39, which is quite young, but he had the same emotional maturity as a human 39 year old at the time, so he's not Like That because he's undeveloped. He's Like That because he's a snapshot of a privileged young nobleman who then spent 200 years being used and abused by the worst sort of person imaginable. He wasn't a full adult by elven standards, though, and I'm sure there's lots of elven rites of passage he didn't get to experience because he was dead.
BG3 does not mechanically distinguish between sun elves and moon elves and simply puts them all under the high elf umbrella, but they are very much a thing in the lore and have distinct appearances, cultures, and histories.
Moon elves tend to have black, blue, or silver-white hair and have pale skin, sometimes with a bluish hue. Their eyes are usually blue or green, sometimes with gold flecks.
Sun elves tend to have blond, black, or red hair and brown skin tones. Their eyes are usually green, gold, black, copper, silver, or hazel.
Based on his appearance, Astarion is probably a moon elf, and it's likely his original eye colour was either blue or green.
There are many other types of elves than those that are playable in the BG3, such as sea elves, winged elves, star elves, wild elves, and lythari.
It's possible that Shadowheart's father is lythari, because lythari are lycanthropic elves.
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tiny-space-platypus · 2 months
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Ok so it's like 3am and I can only think of DC/DP but dimensional warfare. Like the GIW have been fucking with the dead so much, messing with Danny so much, that he decides fuck it we ball. If I become Danny do fucking be it.
Like Danny has tried to be good. He had tried desperately to be good since he was 14,since he died. Like he wasn't really a kid after that. He had tried to get help from the JL but his pleas were ignored, he tried to tell them about the GIW, he tried to tell them about the anti-ecto laws but he got nothing.
Now he was older, now he was bitter, now they had taken his children. Now was time for war. It was easy, so easy that it was uncomfortable for him. Killing shouldn't be so easy but humans were so fragile. He let ghosts and demons and anything else run wild, he had every city spirit cause their worse. He sent a message to the world before causing a world wide black out.
"I have let you mess with the dead. I have protected you from the dead. I have protected you from future and from yourselves. Yet you decide to take my children. You take the spawn of the king of the Infinite Realms and expect no consequences. This is a declaration of war long overdue. Prepare yourself living realms, your days are limited. I will either find my children or you will return them to me. Till then in joy your blackout."
And with that earth was plunged into the darkness of night. As the monsters that haven't terrorized the earth in millennia roam without a care.
JL and JLD are freaking the fuck out. Trying to prevent as much chaos as possible. They had to find those kids they had to play diplomate to an angry god or send the flash back before this to hopefully fix this. They had to fix this.
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