#love the pettiness never change king

[sherwoodflorists]

POV you're Malcolm Merlyn and you make a deal with Amanda Waller and sneak into your arch-nemesis' house to implant a brain bomb in him just so he'll finally fight you only for you to get left at the altar

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Listening to some of Vegetta's old VODs while wrapping up some meta (got sidetracked tracking down a very specific timestamp for two hour) and dear god I forgot how high maintenance he is. World's most passive-aggressive, proud bordering on arrogant, dramatic demigod / semi-god who would rather carry a grudge for the rest of his life than dare communicate that his feelings were hurt. I love him so much.

[cerealmonster15]

jesus christ like i only finished the sumeru story like a few months ago but i already forgot your literal first intro to kaveh is a scene of several minutes of him and alhaitham fully bitching at each other

[barbagallo-raceway]

.

[sleepyorchidmonster]

Okay, but what if, after graduation, all the students band together and create a gigantic contract that states that, after their deaths, their respective UMs are to be given to Malleus, so he'll never be alone?

The contract's paper received protection from Vil's Fairest One of All, so it's basically indestructible (it can only be broken after Malleus himself dies).

Future Malleus tries to use everyone's magic at least once per day.

It's a Deal, Off With Your Head, Bind the Heart and Split Card are very useful for his daily activities as a ruler, he uses Oasis Maker to water his garden and help in times of drought, I See You is mostly used to keep prized possessions in check and Sleep Kiss has saved plenty of people.

The more destructive abilities like King's Roar are mostly used in times of peril (or when he wants to be petty and dramatic), and the same goes for Bet the Limit. Shock the Heart, Laugh With Me and Snake Whisper are very useful for intel gathering or pranks.

He uses Unleash the Beast whenever he visits a colder climate or just wants to change forms without turning into a dragon (he becomes a black wolf with green eyes, very fluffy). Doodle Suit is often used to make food taste terrible (he misses Lillia, even his atrocious cooking), while Fairest One of All protects all gargoyles frim erosion.

Far Cry Cradle is used to reminisce fond memories, and he likes to use Meet Me in a Dream to visit Ortho, who is still alive. He LOVES dashing around with Living Bolt.

He can't exactly use Gate to The Underworld, since it's hereditary and troublesome, so Idia gave him an indestructible tablet with a custom gargoyle game and a "Idia Mode" (the tablet makes annoying remarks, like "GG Folks" or "This RNG really is awful").

BONUS:

Malleus: As your King, I hereby declare that the Senate is to be immediately disbanded.

Senate: WHAT

Idia Tablet: LMAO. Sucks to suck!

[myladysapphire]

Forbidden

With a feud older than history, the Blackwoods and Brackens have long been enemies, but now, you, a daughter of lord Bracken, finds yourself in the arms of Benjicot Blackwood, and he will do everyhting it takes to make you his.

based of this request

word count: 3,893

cw: MDI, 18+, smut, dry humping, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, making out, masturbation, violence, slight breeding kink, pregancy, not proofread!

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Authors notes: a lot of ocs, alot of canon diveregence and based before the dance.

sorry this took so long to come out and so long for me to update in general! i wrote half of this and then decided to re do the whole thing entirely differently and then I got stuck and started writing two other things but here it is, enjoy!

“You will not marry him” your fathers voice bellowed.

You had begged and pleaded and yet there was no resolve, your father was adamant in a match with the lord Jorah Mallister a man near twice your age. And not a match with the man you held dear to your heart.

Benjicot Blackwood.

You had met him near six summers ago. For six years you had been courting him in private, away from all eyes but each other’s.

It had been easy to fall in love with him, with someone as kind and well mannered as he. But that wasn’t what had drawn you to him.

At the time neither of you knew which house the other belonged too, nor cared. There seemed to be something unexplainable that drew you to one another.

You were like twin flames, so similar and yet you were your own unique force but together you burned brighter.

But this wasn’t something your lord father could understand.

The feud between Blackwood and Bracken had spanned through time and was a never-ending factor. They would always despise one another, the true reason why lost to time and only fuel was added to the fire with each generation.

If the Blackwood’s stood on one side, you can guarantee the Brackens stood on the other.

The sides of their conflict varied, no one knowing the truth, neither history book nor legend.

With both houses being old and ancient, with blood of the first men running though their veins. Both claimed to be kings, the Blackwood’s claiming to have been kings of the wolfs wood before being driven south. And the Brackens had been kings of the Riverlands.

There it is said the Blackwood’s usurped the Bracken lands, where the Blackwood’s claimed the Brackens were petty lords and sells words hired to usurp them.

And though there had been a hundred peace’s between the families over the millennia, with every blackwood comes Bracken blood, and ever bracken comes blackwood blood. But no peace lasted long enough, and each peace ended with a larger wound than before.

When it comes between the two it is often a case of, he said or she said, no one wishes to get involved and no one knows the truth, and no matter the efforts of their overlord of kings, no truce lasted.

And all because of this, a feud neither of you wished to take part in, you were torn apart.

A marriage set between you and an old lord, and the turning of a key locking you in your rooms, separating you from him.

Your father thought it was some infatuation, when in fact it was everything.

You had met as children, playing on the border between your lands. He had tripped and fell over the border stones and you, with your friends having long run off at the sight of a blackwood came to aid him.

Tending to the small cut on his head, you teased him mercilessly, claiming he must be the best knight the Blackwood’s had if he would so easily cross the border as he did.

Andin truth that was how it all started, childish teasing, and the small gesture of caring for his small cut.

With days spent meeting at the border, playing as children did, you forged a bond. A bond that only strengthen as you were sent to ward with your mother’s family over.

With two summers spent together, the third apart it was clear much had changed when you went to meet at the border once more.

You had become a woman and he a man, and suddenly the childish games got lost and suddenly bashful smiles were exchanged in the place of teasing.

“How are you?” he has asked, having spent he summer with no word, unable to send each other letters, with fear of being caught and your friendship ending.

It was clear much had changed, your faces had lost the baby fat, he was now a head taller than you, whereas before you had towered over him. Your clothes had become that of a lady, no longer where your dressed hemmed to your ankles, your tunics and trousers thrown out in favour of gowns and jewels.

Your hair had grown long, and now adorned with jewels and accessories alike.

You looked everything of the lady you were expected to be and more. You had grown into your features, and he was struck by you.

It was almost like you were strangers again, with you blushing as you towards him and he unsure of how to act towards you know.

Stuttering your words, as you recounted your year, blushing as you told him of your kiss with one of the stable hands. How you had helped your aunt give birth, and how you had felt lonely without him, even though you only got to see him for a few hours every few days.

He had recounted his summer, how he had become a squire and his father had started giving him duties, fit for the future lord of Raventree.

The awkwardness left you both as the day passed and the sun set, you both left with a new view of the other. A year apart changing you from childhood friends to newfound crushes.

Neither of you cared that you were from rivalling families, the skirmishes between your cousins and his cousins and even him, never affecting you bar a small argument here and there.

As time passed and you both grew older you found most of your days spent with the other, and soon the friendly hand holding was exchanged for soft kisses and wandering hands.

If you were from any other house a marriage would have been easy, but neither of your fathers accepted the other, and as tensions grew and grew you lost any hope for a future with Ben.

You had kept your friendship, your companionship a secret, a well-kept secret no one not even your closest friends knew off.

Until two days ago.

The news of a betrothal had spurred you; you had run to the border to find Ben and beg him to run away.

But instead of Ben you found your oldest brother Amos, and a man you briefly recognised to be Bryden blackwood, a cousin to Ben. They seemed to be in some argument, over the boundary stones. Luckily no swords had been drawn yet.

You approached your brother cautiously.

“Amos” you started, nodding to the bracken men that stood with him.

“Sister…what are you doing her?” he asked, moving away from Bryden’s glare.

“I could ask you the same, aren’t you meant to patrol the border not step over it?” “I knew you changed the boarder stones!”

“I did not, my sister does not know what she speaks, she rarely comes here!”

“Rarely swear I’ve seen you before” he stepped closer to you, your brother slowly stood to stand in front of you. “Yes…I know you, you’re that girl my cousins spends his days with! hah a Bracken bitch���.

“What does he speak of!” your brother demanded.

“Nothing, I don’t know- “

Ben walked over, a laugh set on his face and hand on his sword, ready to fight if needed. “What is going on here?” he said, facing falling as he saw you.

Bryden turned to face him, “We were simply observing the border stones before your bitch came along”.

“What did you call her?” both Ben and Amos questioned, tone stern and glares set on Bryden.

“a Bracken Bitch” he punctuated each word, stepping closer to Amos, only to be dragged away by Ben and a punch landing swiftly on his face.

Ben’s fists pounded Bryden’s face, blood spattering as groans left Bryden’s lips, ben only stopped as his uncle, Wilheim came running up and pulled him away.

“What is going on here!”

“Your nephew insulted my sister” Amos spoke, his hand reaching for his sword.

“And why is Benjicot bloody blackwood taking it out on him?” he near screamed.

You looked tot eh floor, to scared to speak.

“He called her my Bracken…my Bracken bitch” Ben spoke, his eyes glued to your form as you nervously kicked at the border stones.

Wilheim gave Ben and exasperate look, “is its true boy?”

You looked up, feeling all eyes on yours.

“yes” he said, his face downcast in shame. Not shame for being with you, for the moments you shared or the love he felt but for the way it was revealed, for how you had been spoken off and the laughs that irrupted at the news.

Wilheim pulled him closer, “is she still?” everyone knew what he was asking, no matter how discrete he tried to be.

You knew the answer, and you knew no matter what came out of Bens mouth your brother would be forced to tell your father and your father would demand the maester check your maidenhead, something he wouldn’t find.

As you waited for Ben to answer your mind went back to six moons ago.

Your mind went back to six moons ago.

It was your nameday, you had escaped the celebrations and made your way to the border, where ben awaited gift in hand.

“Happy name day” he greeted, pulling you in for a hug, his face buried in your neck.

“Thank you” you breathed, your touches lingering as you pulled apart, his face close too yours.

Your eyes were locked to his, as you hesitated to step away.

“My gift?” you asked, as you stepped back ever so slightly, noticing the lingering gaze on your lips.

He smiled shyly, before presenting you the gift.

The gift, a book you had long desired. You had been unable to find it anywhere and yet, Ben had found it just for you.

“Ben” you breathed, at a loss for words as you started up at him, a shy smile on his face. “Thank you”, you said taking a step towards him once more, your body’s now impossible close.

“It was no problem” he breathed, your faces breaths apart.

A blush filled your cheeks as you leant forward your lips catching his in a soft slow kiss.

Your mouths moved in tandem, slow and soft as his hands came up to grip your waist, pulling you into him as your kiss became sloppier, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth as your hands came up to grip his hair, your lips never breaking.

Had you not been where anyone could find you, you where sure the kiss would never end, but the fear of being caught, your reputation ruined spurned you to push yourself away from him.

“we should go somewhere more private” you breathed, “out of prying eyes” “won’t they notice if your gone much longer?” “I doubt it, I said the wine had gone to my head and my maid, Farrah was more than happy to vouch the same, and that I wish to be left alone after I gave her 10 silver dragons.”

He laughed, “there is an inn nearby, perhaps we could go there?”

“An inn?” you asked a small smile on your face.

He nodded, “I know you may not wish to spend your nameday in an inn- “ “I wish to spend it with you” you interrupted, “I do not care where”.

And so, you had gone to the inn, it was barren when you got in, not many traveling to kings’ road so near winter, a room was easy to find and for the first time you were truly away from prying eyes.

The room was quaint, at least compared to what you were used too, with a double bed in the centre of the room, a small tub and chamber pot on one side and a dresser and table on the other.

“Will anyone question if you are gone long?” you asked, taking off your cloak.

You knew he most likely wouldn’t, having more freedom than you as a man and heir.

“Perhaps, but as long as I ma back by dawn I doubt I will get in any trouble.”

You nodded, “you leave often in the night then?” you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

He coughed awkwardly, “my uncle and my cousins, Bryden, Davos and Bennifer took me to a brothel for my nameday”.

“a Brothel?” you asked in surprise, though there was a hint in jealousy in your voice, “and did you?

“No!” he said quickly, “no I wouldn’t do that” to you, he wanted to say, but up until today you hadn’t done anything, bar hold hands and lingering touches here and there.

You smiled, standing up and walking up to him, he seemed frozen, unsure of what to do or what his intentions were of even bringing you here.

You moved cautiously, your hand reaching for his as you moved yourself into his embrace.

Your fingers interlocking with his, “ben” you whispered.

And he whispered your name back, smiling as he did.

“I love you” you spoke, no hesitation in your voice.

“I love you” he breathed back, his face full of uninhibited joy.

Your lips captured his once more, this time it was full of passion, your lips moving together in tandem, his hands moving to your waist and pulling you effortlessly closer to him.

With one hand still interlocked with his, the other reached up and gripped his hair pulling him even closer to you.

Your mouths never broke apart, even as a soft moan left your lips as his tongue moved with yours.

 You started to step back slowly, dragging him with you until your back hit the bed, Bens body covering yours, his hips slowly began to grind against yours, feeling his clothed cock through his breeches as he grinded against your heat.

You moaned softly into his mouth as your body’s moved together.

“Ben” you groaned, as his lips separated from yours and moved to your neck, pressing quick sloppy kisses before leaning over you his eyes staring into yours.

He whispered your name, “do you want to keep going?”

You nodded, leaning up to reach for the laces of your gown, you never broke eye contact as you untied your dress, allowing it to fall slightly and reveal our thin chemise.

He blushed at the sight, leaning back and allowing you to fully remove your dress, before you reached for him and started to undo the ties of his tunic and breaches.

You moved slowly, taking him in as you undid his clothes, your touches lingering as you finally revealed his naked chest.

Now only in your small clothes, he reached over you once more, his body covering yours and his lips once again capturing yours.

Your bodies continued to move against each other the friction casing moans and groans to fall from his lips and yours.

Your chemise bunching up at your waist, revealing your wet cunt to Ben.

“gods” he said, feeling your bare cunt rub against his length, “his hands moved from where he had placed them at your waist to move along your thighs.

He swallowed slightly as your legs began to part, baring yourself to him.

“Do you ever touch yourself?” he asked, his fingers moved closer to your heat.

“yes” you breathed as he lightly teased your folds.

“Show me”

You breathe grew heavy, as you nervously moved your fingers down the length of your body.

Ben moved back from you as your finger dipped into your folds, gathering up your silk.

Circling your clit is slow motions, you never broke eye contact, soft moans leaving your mouth.

With one fingering circling your clit you began to dip another into your folds, circling and teasing yourself before finally plunging a finger into your hole.

You let out a moan as you did, slowly pumping your finger in and out of you.

“Gods, your beautiful,” Ben said, his hand coming to meet yours as he swiftly replaced your fingers, plunging two fingers into your hole.

You let out a high-pitched moan. The feel of his fingers was nothing compared to yours, the pleasure entirely different, even more so when his thumb came to circle your clit.

“Like this?” he asked, his movements unsure as he watched you and took in every moan or whimper you made.

“Yes! Gods yes” you said, feeling your peak wash over you as his fingers moved faster in and out of you.

You breathed heavily, sinking into the mattress as you rode out your peak.

“Good?” he asked, reaching forward to press a soft kiss to your mouth.

“yes” you said, before sitting up and reaching for the bottom of your chemise.

“Are you sure?” he asked, as you began to take of the last layer of clothing.

You smiled, nodding your head, and revealing yourself to him.

He moaned at the sight of you, getting impossible hard as he took you in.

He stood of the bed slowly, moving to take of his final layer and bare himself to you.

You groaned at the sight, “come here” you breathed.

He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering yours once more as he took your lips in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, moving to caress your face.

Nodding, you reached up to kiss him, “yes”.

And with that he slowly entered you.

Groaning at the stretch, you felt a slight sting as he slowly entered you, your face contorted in quick discomfort that quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside you, allowing you time to adjust.

He seemed lost tin pleasure at the feeling of your heat wrapped around his length, his face buried in the nape of your neck as he held back from moving.

“You can move” you breathed after a minute, hands wrapping around his neck as you moved your hips to urge him.

He moved slowly, pumping in and out of you, learning every move that made you moan or whimper.

He kissed slowly at your neck as his hips pumped in and out of you, his groans muffled by your neck as he began to pump faster and harder.

Your moans grew more frequent, your hand reaching down to rub at your clit as you felt the familiar feel of your peak hitting you once more, it was fast but no less pleasurable as you and he reached your peak simultaneously.

He swiftly removed himself and finished on your stomach, as your fingers continued to circle your clit, as you rode out your peak.

“gods” you laughed, after a few minutes, ben having gone to get a cloth to clean you up. “I hadn’t expected this for my nameday” you said reaching for him and pulling him into for a kiss once more.

You spent the night wrapped in his embrace, dawn coming faster than you had hoped and you were soon sneaking back into your rooms.

As the moons passed your meetings became ones of lovers, with romantic rendezvous with disguises as you went to Fairmarket parading as smallfolk away from prying eyes.

Your nights spent in each other’s embrace, whether it was in the inn or under the stary sky.

Now six moons later, you did not regret that night or the nights that followed, but the look of disappointment your brother gave you made you wish a part of you desired to take it back.  

“no” Benji spoke, answering his uncle’s question of your maidenhead.

“You will marry” he spoke, your father will approve it and I’m sure we could do with peace with our too sides, with the talk of war and all”.

But your father had instantly refused, saying he would rather a whore for a daughter than a blackwood.

You had been locked in your room for three moons, wedding arrangements made for you a lord Mallister.

You had been unable to escape to leave and see Ben, your every move watched and monitored. Though you had heard he had demanded to see you, begging for your hand and even challenging lord Mallister to a duel.

All had been refused and you were starting to lose all hope of ever seeing him again.

Then there was a tap at your window.

“Ben!” you whisper shouted, seeing him hanging onto the wall for dear life as you opened the window to let him in.

“How did you- “you began to ask only to be cut of with a demanding kiss as Bens lips attacked yours.

“I have missed you” he breathed as you pushed you down onto the bed and began to untie his breeches. “My father agrees we should wed.” he started, kissing you again, as he began to bunch up your skirts, revealing your heat to him. “He says the only way your father would accept us to marry his if you were pregnant” he breathed, his breaches now around his ancles as his finger began to tease your hole.

“Pregnant?” you questioned, “he said he’d rather me a whore than a blackwood” you said, moaning as he began to pump in fingers in and out of your entrance.

“Your father is also a devout man of the faith, is he not” he said, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“yes” you moaned, “and you and your family are followers of the old gods…he would never- “you cut yourself off with a moan as his cock replaced his fingers, plunging in and out of you at fast pace.

“And yet he said to my father that if a babe came, he would allow it…and yet he kept you from me, from any chance of us” he groaned, leaning down to kiss you as he felt your walls clench around his cock as you came.

“I am going to fuck a baby into you, going to fill you up with my seed” he groaned, “I will come, climb the walls of your castle every night until you a bred and then we shall get married and you will me mine, not that cunt Mallister!” his tone was harsh, but as his eyes bore into yours you saw the longing, the love and sense of purpose as he fucked you like he had never fucked you before.

It was primal, pure animalistic as he fucked his seed into you.

He lay on top of you, his cock still in you as you both caught your breath.

That night he took you in more ways than you could count, and in the breath moments his cock wasn’t filling you he recounted his days apart from you.

But as dawn broke, he was forced to leave, just like every other night you shred in each other’s arms.

But he fulfilled his promise visiting you every night until your moons blood stopped, and a pregnancy was confirmed.

Your father was furious, hated how you had defied him, found away to see Ben once more, and now he was forced to marry you.

With a slight swollen belly, it was no secret of why the Brackens and Blackwood’s once again decided to try at peace, even more so when Ben could hardly wait for the bedding ceremony to take you as his wife.

Taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @Theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @Winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @Ka1afbr @Tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNE TARGARYEN 2 @littlebirdgo @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @perla434 @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @random-human02 @f1wh0recom @arieltwvdtohamflash @Aaliyah @clobob @Aegonswife @scorpiosmalfoy @Spacexdrago @sithapprentice @valiendokk @delaynew @12thatsanumber

to be added to taglist

[radiance1]

Nasty Burger explosion happens, leaving Danny homeless and friendless, he gets adopted by Vlad but Vlad, in all of his ambition to get Danny as his son and even telling said boy such thing multiple times.

Genuinely doesn't know what to do.

He never, well, thought this far, and certainly never in the circumstances that made this possible.

He tries a few parenting techniques (that he's read from multiple books to get the perfect child) and nothing sticks both because of Danny's stubbornness and pettiness.

So, Vlad tries from a... different angle.

He doesn't need a perfect son, he realized, he just wanted one, and now that he's gotten one, he realizes that Danny would be the one to succeed Vladco in the off-chance (which is low as hell already) that Vlad someone gets taken out of commission.

So what does he do?

He shows Danny how fun the business world can be when you're on top of it. One of the giants, an Emperor among kings.

Slowly sinking your fangs into an enemy, backing them into a corner bit by bit, until before they realized it, they can do nothing but be a defenseless little grub. Watching them crumble to bits in their own panic, and by their own hand making their situation worse and worse until, with one final blow, nothing is left of them.

Either by their own hand, or yours.

Danny took to it like a fish to water and, dare Vlad say, they even drew closer throughout it. Not quite father and son, yet not enemies either.

He thinks the term would be... frenemies?

Yes, on the best of days allies and on every other day frenemies.

===

Danny doesn't... hate, Vlad. Yet he doesn't love him either, he thinks he likes Vlad at the very least. When the man backed off from trying to get him to be his son and replace his father.

Which was still a dick move considering his father had just died, but he's since managed to get over it. (The replacing his dad move, not his dad's death.)

Then Vlad started treating his less as a son and more of a... roommate, that he teaches business too. He will admit, he liked the change, gave him more room to grieve the loss of his family, and then, a while after that, Vlad showed him what made the business world... 'fun.'

And he was right, it is fun.

It was a great distraction from the pain of losing his family, and the fear that he would become like his dark future that he managed to avoid. He's not destroying the world, he's just destroying rival companies.

Way better in his opinion.

Of course, there are other 'Emperor among kings' out there, would be weird if there weren't honestly. To name a few, being Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne.

In other words, a guy who hates an overpowered alien superhero and a himbo playboy.

Honestly, he doesn't really care about Lex Luthor, he's more of Vlad's chess mate rather than his. Who he does care for, however, is on Timothy Drake-Wayne.

Two years older than him, that is true, yet a fun chess mate all the same. Does he care for the boy's father and siblings? No, not really, not at all actually.

He's tried to corner the boy before (Most of which he planned out with his own chess set that Vlad got him, Vlad has one as well in fact), mostly on a whim really. To test the waters, so to speak. But, Timothy Drake succeeded his expectations and, well, more.

He tries more than once, gaining an inch, Timothy finds a way to gain two more. Corner him, and Drake finds a way out and even reserving the tides.

He's never able to completely corner Timothy Drake-Wayne, and Timothy Drake-Wayne has never been able to completely corner him, which is honestly what makes this so fun.

Vlad was right, the business world can be fun.

[hazelfoureyes]

before i never really interacted with blogs(cuz anxiety and very toxic friends had my tumblr, who ive gotten rid of now) but now i literally interact with every post bc of you, you are god and i will worship you, your smut is poetic af and has my legs SHAKING(.literally.)

i am ON MY KNEES❗

also, alastor and his rivals(vox or lucifer) x reader smut? like i know alastor would be petty asf and have them watch as he fucks the living out of their beloved, im curious, do you have any ideas regarding that?(cuz your ideas are delicious and im hungry for that)

You’ve left me speechless which is quite the accomplishment, Darling. I am just a little goblin! Or like the tooth fairy, but instead of teeth I take praise and instead of money I leave filthy smut 🥺 I am so glad you removed the toxic friends and are interacting more. 💖 you deserve better and your interactions are a joy. Thank you for brightening my day! I am so far away and yet you’ve got me blushing like a fool.

oooh yes okay so! Here’s some ideas 👀

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊👑₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Energy for me is Lucifer: Here to please. Alastor: Here to win. I imagine Luci brings you to the hotel for Charlie’s Birthday party, already having a precious casual fling once or twice before. All the guests are there, everyone is dancing and drinking and having a good time. Alastor notices how you call him Luci, how Lucifer cant keep his cool when you lean closer to him when you speak. Naturally, Alastor sees an opportunity to fuck with Lucifer so he asks for a dance. He is uncharacteristically sweet and loving, willing to do anything to get under the king of hell’s skin. He changes the music to something slow, holding you close he whispers in your ear during your dance, “How can any man maintain composure around you? I feel my manners slipping through my fingers every time you look my way.” When you leave the party to cool down, Alastor follows, finding you in an empty room trying to decompress. “Would you hate me if I kissed you? Be forewarned, once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…”

Lucifer walks in to see you absolutely melting under Alastor, lipstick smeared and face flushed. But Luci adores you, your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s compelled to stay and watch, even as Alastor makes you moan and scream his name. “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?” “Whose cock are you made for?” You’re reduced to incoherent babbling by the time Alastor is finished toying with Lucifer. Lucifer can’t take it anymore and finds himself crawling onto the bed to swallow your moans and shower you in praise.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊🖥️₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

I can see Vox bringing his beloved personal assistant to an overlord meeting for note taking, and Alastor notices your glances to him. Vox adores you, and is always on his best behavior around you to impress you. Alastor waits for you outside of Vee Tower that night for a “chance run in”. “What luck! Allow me to buy you a drink, as a welcome to hell.” Charms you as any good southern boy could, and suggests you both go back to your office for privacy. Knowing full well Vox has cameras all over the office, Alastor fucks Vox’s assistant on his desk while maintaining eye contact with the massive collection of screens there. Vox catches sight of this while skimming through the feeds but can’t break away from the video. Alastor keeps your back to the displays while bouncing you on his cock, smirking at Vox the entire time as he leans back on his desk chair. Vox is seething and finally rushes to his office to find Alastor gone and you lying on your back, still out of breath and cum dripping onto the desk.

Vox keeps you, but gets rid of the desk. He can’t let Alastor have the satisfaction of making him lose his prized employee. For weeks after, while zoning out in board meetings, his screen flashes images of Alastor smirking from over your shoulder as you ride him. He’s entirely unaware that it’s happening and everyone is too scared to tell him.

[stvolanis]

BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts

[silmarillaure]

What you're favorite female Targ says about you

(For simplicities sake, I'll only mention the ones who have the last name Targaryen but I'll be skipping out on ones we don't know enough about from Daenerys of Dorne to Egg's daughters.)

Daenys - You hyperfixate on long dead characters who did 1 important thing that changed the history of the world.

Visenya - You want to bed her AND you want to be her at the same time. You heard "dark, sensual, unforgiving" and found it the sexiest description ever. You almost see her as a goddess rather than a person, you practically worship her.

Queen Rhaenys - You love a women with duality. You respect House Targaryen's matriarch for having hobbies, having fun with pretty boys, & burning entire armies. You also hate the Dornish.

Rhaena the Black Bride - Fat chance you aren't straight. You think she should have been Queen regnant (you'd be 100% right) & you're a Maegor & Jaehaerys's anti. You have a soft spot for sexy sad women

Alysanne - You love a girlboss who can manage motherhood & a 9 to 5 job. You also appreciate how she's the only Targaryen who fought for SEVERAL WOMEN's rights, not just her own.

Aerea - You're a rebellious teen who had a rough upbringing. Her death broke you because you know she deserved so much better.

Septa Rhaella - Are you sure your favorite character isn't just Rhaena?

Alyssa - You also want to ride 2 dragons (Meleys & Baelon).

Maegelle - You love a good nun.

Daella - You're want someone to take care of you for your whole life, except unlike Daella, you're not scared, you're just lazy.

Saera - You love a girl who serves cvnt (quite literally). You're the biggest Jaehaerys hater.

Viserra - You're incredibly pretty and incredibly petty. You know how the world hates to see pretty girls winning.

Gael - You probably have a helicopter parent.

Rhaenys the Queen who Never Was - You're a feminist & you love girlbosses. You 100% hate Jaehaerys and you have 0 love for Viserys I who you think she should have been Queen instead of.

Rhaenyra - You're a feminist & you were 100% the favorite child growing up. If you have a step-parent or half-siblings, you definitely hate them.

Helaena - You're probably a show enjoyer first & foremost. You probably simp for Aemond who you ship her with.

Baela - You might be a tomboy but not the "not like other girls" type of tomboy. You probably like at least 1 sport though & you're definitely a girl's girl.

Rhaena of Pentos - You love pretty aesthetics & Barbie was probably you're favorite movie of 2023.

Jaehaera - You hyperfixate on tragic minor characters. Bonus points if you're neurodivergent.

Naerys - You're either a sad catholic girl or you hyperfixate on tragic female chracters.

Daena - You love baddies who don't take anyone's shit. You might have grown up in a toxically religious household.

Septa Rhaena - You think Baelor the Blessed was the best Targ King.

Elaena - You like a woman with a brain.

Queen Rhaella - You hyperfixate on tragic female characters.

Daenerys - You love a bad bitch (affectionate) and you will not apologize. You also genuinely have good taste & hated GoT season 8.

[bisclavret]

like many who have suffered at the hands of bbc merlin before me, i recently indulged in a thought experiment in which i outlined my own version of seasons 3-5 that stay thematically and tonally in line with the show (except they're less fucking stupid). but then i quickly realized that focusing on details is pointless: all you need is to solve the one Big Problem the show has, and the rest will follow. the problem in question? ✨morgana✨

i like the first two seasons. s1 achieves what it sets out to do and has fun while doing it, and s2, while flawed, sets up a ton of potential that the following seasons unfortunately squander, beginning with the insidious season 3. you can only distract me with cute knights and goblins and fart jokes for so long before i start seeing through you, evil, evil season of television.

my hypothesis is that if the writers had crafted s3 morgana into anything more sympathetic than a violent half-alive poltergeist that can never be reasoned with because she's suddenly terminally off her rocker, everything would've fallen into place. a sympathetic morgana would've made real, valid arguments against uther (and arthur) that wouldn't just be the ramblings of a woman possessed. her betrayal of arthur would have stemmed from her feeling increasingly morally superior to him because of his complacency in the face of their father's tyranny. under morgause's guidance she would stop believing that arthur is capable of change, and the whole point would be that she might actually be right. arthur would have to actively try and prove her wrong, instead of getting praised for doing the bare minimum because the bar is on the floor.

furthermore, morgana's prophetic dream about arthur and gwen becoming king and queen and her decision to prevent this however she can is a direct parallel to merlin learning about that same prophecy and making it happen by any means necessary. merlin's desires about his and arthur's futures are subtextually fueled by gay love and devotion, so why couldn't morgana's be? why couldn't she properly express her bitterness that arthur gets to be with gwen in a way she can't "took gwen away" from her, instead of suddenly declaring that gwen is nothing more than a servant, after two seasons of demonstrating again and again that she loves, values, and respects gwen more than anyone else in that godforsaken castle?

following this, an angry and emotionally volatile but still sensible morgana asking gwen to stay by her side during the coup of the castle in the s3 finale and gwen going behind her back to help arthur and the knights would've hurt like a bitch. double-sided betrayal! gwen having a real plot! the proper beginnings of a toxic yuri that would shape a generation!

then there's the utter hubris of having morgana shoot arrows at the same civilians she worried herself sick over for 2 seasons — even morgan, her medieval counterpart that was rooted in every sexist trope in existence, doesn't just go around killing senselessly but instead has (often petty!) personal vendettas against gwen, arthur, and the knights. morgana had every right to be sick of the pretensions around chivalry in camelot (she was always quick to mock it, even in s1), and to lash out at the knights and soldiers after years of feeling powerless in a castle full of armed men that blindly followed her oppressor. the show conveniently forgets that morgana was victimized as a woman as well as a sorcerer those first 2 seasons.

but like i said, this is not just about morgana. allowing her to remain a real and multifaceted character even as she betrays everyone in pursuit of her ambitions would've given the rest of the core four more interesting conflict to work with: merlin because he would have to experience real consequences to his actions, arthur because he would watch his sister go against his father (and his knights, and his birthright) and experience some actual internal dilemmas about it, and gwen because she would be forced to choose between morgana and arthur without the pretense that it's an obvious or easy choice for her to make.

even morgause and gaius would come off more interesting as mentors: neither one inherently evil or inherently good, both jaded by events that happened before our protagonists were even born, both heavily influencing morgana and merlin into fulfilling roles that they think are appropriate, but that morgana and merlin may not have chosen for themselves had they not been under their care.

you get the gist. if the show followed its own setup, morgana's mistakes wouldn't lie in cheap and senseless acts of violence but in alienating the people she loves because she is too hurt and jaded to trust them. meanwhile, everybody else would feel guilt over "failing" her and yet they would be too caught up in their own (sometimes flawed!) beliefs of right and wrong to truly see her point of view.

arthur would convince himself it was sorcery that corrupted her. merlin would know that isn't true but he wouldn't be able to argue without confessing everything, which is the defining conflict between him and morgana and it's cheapened when she's just an evil witch caricature and merlin is framed as inherently virtuous in contrast. gwen, too, would become a more active participant in her own life by choosing arthur over morgana and choosing to rule camelot with him instead of just waiting politely to see where things go.

and, of course, uther's downfall and death would be quick, final, and completely earned — when and why did the show even decide he of all people was the sympathetic villain, anyway?

lastly, and perhaps controversially, i think morgana should've learned merlin's true identity by season 4. her being the first of the main characters to find out makes perfect sense considering their shared history and their interconnected and mirrored arcs. even the show seems to agree, considering she does find out a little before arthur. but the narrative itself tried pointing flashing neon arrows towards this way earlier — there is a whole entire episode in s4 where merlin being emrys is repeatedly spelled out for morgana and she still isn't allowed to see it. that episode makes her look like the stupidest person to ever live, which is pretty funny im not gonna lie, but also another frustrating thing in the endless string of frustrating things that make up this show.

morgana learning that merlin has magic would've transformed the source of merlin's anxiety from a crippling fear of being outed someday to the crippling fear of knowing she could out him at any moment. this would make him want to beat her to the punch (perhaps he'd consider killing her for a minute and decide against it because she isn't a cartoonishly insane evil person in my version of events) and maybe he would even feel some tentative excitement at the idea of coming clean, now that it seems inevitable. after all, he always intended to tell arthur eventually! and i think gaius would have to admit outright that he does not want merlin to tell arthur he has magic because he, gaius, simply cannot risk such a gamble. it would be so interesting to see gaius and merlin clash and disagree once it becomes obvious that it's not merlin that isn't ready for the reveal, it's gaius. delicious!

with morgana's knowledge looming, things would inevitably spiral into a magic reveal by the end of season 4. i picture this season as an absolute mess of miscommunication between everyone at camelot, which is, y'know, canon. growing increasingly cunning and vengeful, morgana would use this tension to her advantage, destabilizing the court from the outside while she creates alliances with other sorcerers outside of camelot (instead of living alone in a hovel for no reason — morgana le fay i'm sorry i'm so sorry they gave you agravaine instead of your all-female entourage oh my god).

and here's where the events would change beyond recognition (aka here's where the meta becomes the fanfic i refuse to write). picture it with me: a militia of sorcerers infiltrates camelot and arthur and gwen have to set aside their differences (assuming gwen kissing lancelot and arthur overreacting happens, which it should) for the good of the kingdom as well as for love. picture high priestess morgana in her element, side by side with a bunch of misfit sorcerers that aren't so easily vilified, chopping down camelot's soldiers and knights and assuredly making their way to the newly-minted king.

then, just as it starts to seem that all hope is lost, in swoops merlin (the actual merlin, not his old fart disguise) on dragonback (kilgharrah hates morgana so much i know his sexist ass would stoop to anything to stop her)!!! imagine merlin showing off the extent of his powers in front of everyone and preventing the sorcerers from getting any further, declaring loud and clear that camelot is protected by him, by emrys. imagine that display of power alone being enough to send everyone home.

imagine the loyalties clearly drawn: merlin on arthur's side, morgana on the sorcerers'. imagine arthur, feeling confused and betrayed by everyone at this point, banishing merlin despite everything he's done for him in the angstiest, most emotionally dysregulated scene the show had ever put to screen. imagine merlin starting season 5 free at last but very lonesome, an embittered dragonlord like his father. imagine the absolute mess camelot would become without him, even with gwen — now queen guinevere — there to pick up the slack. imagine arthur actually earning merlin back, finally growing into his role as king as he does so. imagine the reunion.

all this and more could've been not just possible but inevitable if morgana was allowed to remain a complex character that is neither inherently good nor inherently evil: it was undeniably the biased and one-note treatment of morgana's downfall by the writers that set the precedent for literally everything else that happened after merlin chose to poison her. the show wouldn't have even had to jeopardize its tone or the monster-of-the-week vibe, all it would've had to do is admit that even the "good guys" are capable of mistakes and what makes them good is the ability to feel remorse and change for the better. (as opposed to uther, who was miles beyond redemption since way before the pilot and deserved to lose everything and die alone. OBVIOUSLY???)

in a world where morgana remains multifaceted and sympathetic, mordred would get a better arc as well, so if we really wanted to, we could still end on the same tragic note that the show ended on. with so much harm inflicted onto so many innocent people by the pendragons for so long (including mordred and the many druids and sorcerers that raised him), it could realistically end up being a little too late for anything more than one shining glimpse of king arthur and the sorcerer merlin's short-lived golden age before fate catches up to them. glimpsing that reality just to immediately lose it would've been far more satisfying and far more tragic than whatever the writers thought they were doing with all that pointless carrot-dangling.

and finally, an ending in line with morgana's new and improved arc. in this version, rather than bleeding out on the forest floor alone, she would channel the morgan le fay we know from the legends: sobered up by the reality of her brother dying, she would use her high priestess status (and perhaps also her pendragon status) to be granted passage over to avalon alongside arthur on the boat — a one-way ride — just to make sure he gets there safely. this is her penance for the harm she has caused, the same way arthur's penance is to die and leave the true ruler of camelot (gwen) behind to achieve everything he was too slow and indecisive to build while he still had time.

merlin's penance, then, would be to stay behind and watch them cross over without him, waiting and waiting and waiting until they come back or until he can finally join them. which is a bit fucking harsh if i'm honest, so i'd at least make it slightly more faithful to the legends by having him return as an old man and letting him take a long nap under a tree by the shore, his body slowly enveloped by vines like the cobwebbed fisher king in 3x08, never fully sure if he's dreaming or if there really are strange shapes fading in and out of the fog over the lake. still tragic, but nevertheless a little more open-ended and whimsical than [TRUCK NOISES] THE END!

[arcielee]

But you came over me like some holy rite.

Summary: Your husband seeks you out. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 2160 Warnings: Just some smut. Marital infidelity, mentions of Targcest, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, edging, Aemond being petty. Author's Note: Thank you @sylasthegrim for beta reading! 💜 This is the alternative ending to Only if for a night. that nobody asked for. Enjoy! Banners & dividers by @cafekitsune

You could not help how you glowed from the secret you now kept tucked behind your ribs and cradled against your heart. It was something precious, something intimate that you clung to until it felt as if it was rattling your bones beneath. 

This is how it had been since your night spent with the king, and you were quick to learn that Aegon was insatiable. He would slip into your quarters through passageways you had not known existed. He would ravish you until the blood streak of the rising sun peaked from the bay, spilling into your room, until your linen was soaked from the mixture of your perspiration and from the multiple peaks he craftily drew from you; you were spent with your blood rising to the surface, leaving you crimson and boneless, but with a blissful smile played on your kiss swollen lips. 

“This is our secret,” he would murmur into the crook of your neck, withdrawing his fingers from your pulsing warmth. His digits glistened with your release which he rubbed onto his swollen cockhead before shifting between your thighs and pressing against your entrance.

You moaned from the overstimulation, from the stretch as he sheathed within you, your body pliant and melding against his, your hips cant and rocking in tandem with his own. “It is our secret,” he rasped again, his lips moving to suckle your skin and leaving blooms of red in their wake.

Your handmaidens politely ignored them; they never mentioned these love bites that now littered your body, nor the post-coital scent that hung heavy on your sheets despite your husband being away on whatever errand commanded by his king brother. Your changed disposition could not help but be noticed by the courts with the rose flush to your features from your smile and the soft glimmer in your eyes.

Aegon was bold with his coy tactics whenever you were within arm’s reach, silently relishing in your reactions; his childish teasing, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth for a kiss. The touch would jolt through you, the softness of his lips rekindling a warmth in your core and spilling the red onto your features. 

Your scarlet hues would push him further–as Aegon was known to do–and he would place his wide palm on your lower back, leaning until his lips tickled your ear with his whispered compliments for you to hear alone. 

And you bloomed in response with every word spoken, every touch from the king. It slowly chipped away from the bitter memory of what had brought you two together, of how you caught your husband between the thighs of the queen. 

This bitter thought returned was soothed away by the hands of your handmaidens this night; they plaited your still damp hair to allow your curls to set overnight, then helped you dress in a silk nightgown and robe. You dismissed them, returning to your quarters, your slippered feet padding quick and quiet against the cobblestone with hurried steps to escape the night’s cool air flowing through the corridors of the Keep. 

You half expected to find your room empty, half hoping that perhaps the king would be awaiting you with his roguish, wine-stained grin, but instead you found your husband. 

Aemond was seated in one of the plush velvet chairs that faced the fireplace, its amber color casting shadows across his sharp features and pursed lips. His one arm was bent, his fingers pressed to the jut of his chin in contemplation while his other hand held onto a goblet that was filled with the Dornish wine your handmaidens would leave for your nightcap. 

“Good evening, ābrazȳrys.”

Wife. He did not look at you when he said his term of endearment, and you were aware of the acidity to his low timbre. “Lord husband,” and you forced yourself into the room, closing the door behind you. “I…was unaware that you had returned. I had not expected you tonight.” 

Aemond only hummed in response, peering down into the gilded cup before setting it on the end table. His every movement was fluid, precise, from how his long fingers wrapped around the armrests to push himself to stand upright, and turning on his heel to face you. 

Your breath hitched when you noticed that he was not wearing his eyepatch. You wished to fall back a step, away from his heady, bicolored gaze, but instead your arms knotted beneath your chest, pulling your robe tight over your curves and squaring off towards him. 

His expression was almost unreadable, perhaps amused or agitated, something that was precariously balancing on the edge of a blade. “I returned this evening. I thought it best to come and fulfill what is expected of us,” his low voice continued, his brow raised. “Ābrazȳrys.”

Oh. 

As man and wife, of course it would be expected that you two would continue to couple until the fruition of a silver haired babe. Aegon, however, had seen Aemond to be sent away, to serve as a diplomat for a neighboring kingdom which allowed you to be swept away with your royal dalliance. But you also assumed that when Aemond inevitably returned, that he would go back to Helaena’s embrace just as you found him on that fateful night. 

And with that the bitter thought returned with its muted vengeance, the vision of the glistening exertion across Aemond’s back and shoulders as he purposefully kneeled between the thighs of the queen–his sister–

You bit the inside of your cheek, a stilted shuddered response, your own thighs clenching as a warmth washed over you from his gaze, but your eyes dropped and you obediently moved towards the bed. The robe was discarded and fluttered to the ground, the mattress sinking with your weight as you climbed to lay back in your clean chemise and nothing more. You took a deep breath and then rucked the silk up around your hips. 

Your husband, if anything, had always shown consideration until completion since your wedding night. You had been informed of your fortune that his touch was never abrasive, but almost cautious, that he was mindful of your every small sound and how he would dutifully respond. It was enjoyable enough, a godsend in comparison to the hushed horrors shared amongst the ladies of the court… but this was before you learned of the passion that could be shared between the sheets. 

The blood rose to your features as you recalled that fateful night again and in detail, of what you had seen and what Aegon then showed you. You remembered the flutter of passion that trilled your spine watching your husband and how it emboldened you to dare kiss the king, that moment stemming from the torrid passion Helaena clearly felt, her voice echoing in your head…

“Aemond, Aemond, Aemond…” 

And now you laid, compliant and waiting for your husband to take his pleasure. There was a pregnant pause and your fingers played with the silk hem before your chin tilted to your chest to see Aemond at the end of the bed, his slender fingers quick to shed his upper layers. 

Your husband was handsome, it was undeniable, with the sinewy frame of muscle on his long and lithe form, the silver scars that decorated his alabaster skin that took a golden hue from the lighting of your room. His slacks hung low on his lips with lines that cut and disappeared beneath the waistline, where you could see the strain of his length outlined against the fabric. 

His hum brought your attention back to his steady gaze and you blushed while his satisfaction spilled into his perpetual smirk that always played on the curves of his lips. Aemond then reached forward until his large hands–even larger than his brother’s–wrapped around your ankles and he dragged you closer towards the edge of where he still stood. 

The movement jarred you and you could not help your startled noise, his name caught on your tongue, “Aem–” and you were burning from where his hands held you, from the fire in his veins.  

You were closer now, with your legs bent and knees up, your feet pressing to anchor you from falling over the edge. The air was cool against your cunt shown and Aemond tilted his head to take in the sight, another appreciative hum at your lewd display. His hand moved to one of your knees, and he leaned over with the spill of silver that curtained both sides of his face, his eye careful to watch your reaction as his other hand moved between your thighs. 

His touch elicits a soft noise from you, his gentle touch at your entrance where your wetness pooled allowing him to glide upwards towards the bundle of nerves that bloomed above. You bit your lip to muffle yourself, but Aemond was still peering at you, his lips curling upwards with how your body was responding.  

“W-what are you doing?” You are breathless with your question.

There is a glint, an emotion that plays across his face, something fleeting that comes and goes with your heart beat, its rapid pace growing with his ministrations. “I am only fulfilling my marital duties,” his low timbre answered you.

Your blood now boils in your veins, the rising reds to your skin showing, though your features are frozen from his deliberate choice of words. Your heart is now bruising against your ribcage as you recalled the exchange you had with the king, his pitying tone when he asked you:

“Is your husband not fulfilling his marital duties?” 

You had said nothing then, and you are quiet now until another gasp steals your breath as Aemond’s fingers map between before his lips follow. You press up to your elbows for the sight, the blanket of silver that shimmers with his motion as his hot mouth consumes you. You fall back again, fistfuls of linen, and your pleasure building at the base of your spine, the sparks that flutter to and from your nerve endings, and your thighs begin to tremble as it pushes against your seams. 

There is a pressure as his slender finger curls within, another that follows in tandem with the come hither curl pushing against that sweet spot and stars burst before your vision. You are breathless, tears pearling and spilling at the corners of your eyes with each crest of pleasure and you only wish to cry out, a sobbed release.

And he stops, still knuckle deep in your warmth, your cunt clenching in desperation for your release. “Not yet, ābrazȳrys,” and his exhale against the wetness causes you to shudder. 

You whimper at the dull ache left as he withdraws his digits, his hand pushing to stand and freeing his member over the loosened waistband. Your eyes widen at the sight, its heavy sway as he moves to climb and his simultaneous, languid pumps from his hand that glistens with your arousal. 

The bed dips. “Please, Aemond–” you beg, you gasp again with his weight on top of you, slotting himself between your legs, and you can feel him pressed against the inside of your thigh. 

His elbow presses by your head, his hand covering your mouth to shush you while the other moves between to line himself with your entrance. Your gasp is muffled against his palm, your nails biting into his shoulders as his hips rock to sheath fully into your wet cunt. 

Your walls still pulse from your deprived release and his head dips into the curve of your neck, a low groan against your skin. Your impatience spills, lifting your legs to knit around his slender waist and pulling him closer; he responds, rutting against you, a solid pace that pounds into you, until his hip bones begin to bruise against your skin. 

You writhe beneath him, his thrusts stoking your passion anew and your blood rushing to intimately stain your body. You feel the pleasure pulling at your core, unbridled, and your velvet walls flutter again…

And Aemond pulls away, snapping back with such force to break the hold of your legs around, his hand coming to pump his length until ropes of pearly spend spill onto your stomach, your thighs, your silk still bunched around your upper body. 

You choke on your frustration, your vision blurred as you push to your elbows once again, chest heaving. “Aemond,” your exasperation pours from you, choked on the tears that brim. 

Aemond is wordless as he tucks himself away and grabs for his shirt and tunic; his slender fingers are just as quick to dress again, albeit a bit disheveled with the muss of his silver hair spilling over his shoulders. 

He then looks at you, his jaw clenches and then relaxes as his perpetual smirk returns. “Perhaps you should ask our devoted king to sate your appetite, ābrazȳrys.”

And then he leaves you, bare and alone.

arcie's masterlist

Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @aemondx @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @snowprincesa1 @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @namelesslosers

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

See, I think Charles’ annoyance and frustration with the Cat King really was just pure protectiveness and not any kind of jealousy - it’s understandable, because Edwin is not telling him what happened even though something clearly did, which is not typical for them. Edwin doesn’t usually hide things like this! Of course he’s worried!

Charles’ reaction to Monty, on the other hand, is difficult to explain in a way that isn’t jealousy. You could say he’s being protective again, but Charles shows no sign of distrust in Monty, and had no idea of who Monty was or that he might betray them - he was actually very chill with him, except in a select few specific scenes. You could say he just doesn’t like him because he got brushed off during their first meeting, but not only does that not seem like Charles at all, it also doesn’t make sense, since, again, in most instances, Charles is genuinely friendly and is happy when Monty compliments him and seems to have come around to liking him (it completely flies over his head that this is a petty jab at Edwin on Monty’s part but oh well hahaha). You could say it changes up their status quo a bit and that bothers Charles. I do think this bothers him a bit, but I think, unlike Edwin, Charles’ fear and frustration here is directed more at situations (the Cat King whisking him away for several hours, as an example) than others. He’s sociable and likes being able to talk to new people. There’s absolutely no way he’d begrudge Edwin doing the same - and he doesn’t… with Niko. Edwin and Niko hit it off and become very close and that never bothers Charles at all. He’s incredibly endeared to her, just like the rest, and for the most part, he’s chill with Monty too, and smiles pretty knowingly when Edwin confesses to him having awakened some feelings. The only exceptions, where he shows definite annoyance, are when Monty first shows up and gets really in Edwin’s personal space to show him the astrology chart he made, and when Edwin is so sucked into the book Monty gave him that he doesn’t hear that Charles is talking to him, to which he annoyedly says that they seem to have been “spending a lot of time together”.

You could say he’s unused to having anyone get in Edwin’s personal space like that, but, again, Niko. She’s very tactile with him and he doesn’t seem to mind all that much; they spend time together watching things. If it was just someone getting close with Edwin in general, not only would that be weirdly possessive for the character, but it would also mean he would show discomfort with anyone getting close, I think. Does Charles see Monty as more of a potential threat than Niko, seeing as he knows her and her personality and doesn’t know Monty? Well, maybe, but again, Charles shows no sign of distrusting Monty at all.

Monty is a boy. Okay. So something about seeing Edwin so close to a boy that is not him, getting lost in thought over something this boy gave him, really rubs Charles the wrong way. Charles appears to catch on just as quickly as anyone else that there is something (or it looks like something) between Edwin and Monty. He is not surprised when Edwin comes out to him in episode 6, and in fact, seems to have just been waiting for him to verbalize it. He smiles and is not bothered at all by Edwin showing (what he thinks is) a romantic interest in Monty - he just doesn’t like it when Monty clearly shows a romantic interest in Edwin. Um. Well. Well.

Charles is jealous. I really don’t know what else to say.

Look, when I first watched this show, I actually didn’t want them to end up together romantically - I love the idea of one having fallen in love with another who does not reciprocate and the two of them still loving each other just as much. That Edwin’s confession made them closer instead of making things awkward is such a beautiful outcome to this build up and I absolutely love it. However. On my two rewatches, I caught a lot more little details, and I think it would be very strange if the show did not follow up on this. That, plus the deliberate quality of these “jealousy” moments where the camera focuses on him, Charles’ Orpheus coding throughout the show, the fact that Edwin’s arc was far more about realizing his feelings for Charles specifically than just coming to terms with his sexuality, and that even the actors admit that Charles’ response to the confession kind of left things open, it really seems to me like the path leads to a romantic endgame for them, or at the very least, that this possibility will be explored in more depth.

**This is just my reading of it. Please do not use this post as a gotcha for anyone who loves them as a platonic duo or people who really love Crystal and Charles together (because let’s face it, they’re super cute too). I’m just doing my rambles. As per usual.

[wonderer399]

Sebastian : Why he is Perfect for Ciel

Ever since I was in the black butler back in 2015, I was like 17 years old...I was obsessed with BB...I shipped Sebaxciel very hard, I still do and will continue to do it and none of your petty 'anti' opinions will make me change my mind like ever. You are free to judge me and I will judge you 'anti' back as well...You guys think that you are being 'self righteous' ? Tbh in reality you guys exactly sound like 'Alicent Hightower' from 'House of the Dragon' after she was living her miserable life with her 3 annoying kids and had to stick her nose into Rhaenera's bussiness because her 'morals' goes against what Rhaenera was doing....Therefore, stop being annoying and you guys better keep your own opinion to yourselves...I'm 25 now...and I will still ship SebaXciel..until my last breath...I may start the fandom very late , however I have more sense and adulting going on my brain to judge what is 'right' and what is 'wrong'...and what should be kept in the 'greyzone'

I have always defended Sebastian, still do and will always be defending him because he deserves it. Sebastian and Ciel both NEED each other. You guys might think Sebastian NEEDS ciel more...its the other way around ..CIEL NEEDS SEBASTIAN and without Sebastian HE CAN NOT SURVIVE A DAY WITHOUT BEING KIDNAPPED!!!!! OR WORSE BEING KILLED!!!! SEBASTIAN IS CIEL'S LIFE SUPPORT!!!

Sebastian keeps to be surprisingly being 'Kind' towards 'Ciel' by every chapter and each chapter their bond becomes stronger than ever, mostly because due to Agni's influence. And I remember exactly Ciel saying that 'If my soul He wants, then I will make sure to get my revenge properly'...Ciel KNOWS what did he sign up for with sebastian !!! CIEL MAY LOOK LIKE A CHILD ...BUT MENTALLY HE CAN SELL ADULTS IN THE BLACK MARKETS 10 TIMES WITHOUT ANY HESITATION THOSE WHO ARE AGAINST HIM ....He is that cunning!!! We have seen Ciel's Kind side as well...Ciel and Sebastian both knows when and to whom to be 'cunning' or 'Kind'...Both Sebastian and Ciel are Extremely Extremely cunning and will and does 'BEND' the rules of the game at their own advantage through their extremely calculated and refined dirty tricks and schemes ....Playing fair is not their 'concern' ... but 'winning' is ....if Ciel is the 'King' in the Chessplayer, Sebastian is the Ultimate Cheat code and Chessboard in the game ....and pawns are the other characters ....Sebastian can't be the pawn ...Sebastian simply sets up the helpful environment for Ciel to win...Sebastian simply assists Ciel in his own game ....

Sebastian is the STRICTEST, SMARTEST, GENTLEST and NICEST ( may not be the kindest ...but he is still trying his best ...he gives me more like 'TOUGH LOVE' vibes your asian households will give off ) guy to be able pull up with all of Ciel's bratty tantrums .... ( if you even dare to give off the same exact attitude to your parents as Ciel does to sebby time to time....In the white household you won't be affected that much but in the black/latina/asian household, parents will start beating with flipflops no more attitudes.... compared to that Ciel is in 'heaven' as Sebby keeps tolerating ) Sebastian STAYS with Ciel through thick and thin ...Sebby never EVER abondons Ciel ( I don't count filler episodes of season 1 because its not Cannon ) ....Sebby is not that kind of 'mannerless' character who would force himself into 'Ciel's' arm ..sebby HIGHLY VALUES MANNERS,GRACEFULNESS and AESTHETICS...Sebby knows his self worth... we even see sebby getting 'blushed' cheeked whenever ciel compliments him for his good work and that what motivates sebby to stay with ciel through their journey together...they both appriciate, tolerate, they get and understand each other and the same time they are very fond of each other as well...

In the emerald witch arc, it is very evident that when sebby saw ciel was at his worst state ...sebby gone mad and destroyed the entire german military single handedly...ciel is very PRECIOUS to him...once ciel realized how sad Sebby would have felt when he kept rejecting sebby touch...after waking up from psychic trauma, Ciel immidiately compansated sebby with constantly 'touching' sebby 'affectionately' ...its like the two lovers being aparted for wayy too long and when they meet again, they can't let go of each other that easily...their bond just keeps getting stronger...and yall antis be burning lol ...because we shippers got the latest TEA DATE in the chapter 212 !! in the victorian era it was not 'acceptable' to sit 'butlers' and 'noble man' together ...let alone sipping tea and flirting with each other...its so sad that you guys don't like something that's fine! ...but don't dictate us and don't rubb your moral dicks into our faces ...keep it in your pockets

SEBA X CIEL IS THE GREATEST UNCONDITIONAL LOVE SHIP EVER!!! THIS IS THE PUREST FORM OF LOVE !!! SEBBY LOVES CIEL FOR HIS SOUL POTENTIAL REGARDLESS OF HIS GENDER OR HIS AGE!! SEBBY IS WILLING TO WAIT FOREVER AS LONG AS IT TAKES FOR CIEL TO TAKE HIS REVENGE!!! SEBBY RESPONDED TO CIEL'S CALLING IN THE 1ST PLACE !!

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!

Ygraine please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Ygraine had wanted children. She'd imagined a great big family, raising the prince and princesses of Camelot to be warriors and scholars, entertained the thought that she might even give birth to a sorcerer, someone for Nimueh and Gaius to argue over and train. She imagined a Camelot where the highest offices in the land where held by brothers and sisters, united in the love she would instill in them that the petty fights over power would not tear at the next king like it did Uther.

An optimistic view, perhaps, but she'd grown up so close with her brothers that it had seemed not only possible, but probable. She had chosen Uther and her brothers had groaned and complained and picked up their swords and fought for Uther, fought at her side and at his and had never looked back. Because a choice made by one was a choice made by all, so united and determined they were to be more than the parents that had raised them.

She had not considered how that love could sour, how that devotion could bring ruin rather than salvation.

“Tristan is dead,” she repeats, as if that will make it more real and less horrible. Her own death is sad, and Arthur growing up motherless is its own special kind of grief, but her eldest, beloved brother dead not a week behind her is a hell that she’d hoped to never have to endure.

She blames Uther for much, but she can’t blame him for this. If Tristan had really believed her death his fault, when he’d never liked Uther much himself, he would not have stopped until he had Uther’s head. She believes that Uther tried to calm him, to stay his hand, if for no other reason than their shared love of her. But as terrible as Tristan’s death is, as her death will be, leaving Arthur an orphan would be a far greater crime. He should have known that.

“I’m sorry, your majesty,” Gaius says softly.

She pushes down the pain. She will see Tristan again, of course. She will return to her own time, to have the next king of Camelot, to give birth to a boy with her eyes and hair and her skill with a blade, and she will see her brother alive again.

Changes cannot be made. Must not be made. Have not. What has happened shall happen and any attempt to change that will only mire the last few, short years of her life in misery. She will embrace her brother and kiss Nimueh’s cheek and must say nothing of their devastation that awaits them.

“I must speak to Agravaine,” she says.

Agravaine’s devotion had been quieter, his actions sly and his humor dry, but his love no less powerful.

Gaius hesitates. “Your majesty, that may not be the best idea. Losing you once was difficult for him. To lose you twice-”

“I must speak with him,” she says, sharpening her voice to a tone that Gaius has always known better than to question.

Uther is in danger. Perhaps even Arthur is too.

Tristan believed that Uther was responsible for her death and that his life must be forfeit because of it.

A choice made by one of them is a choice made by all.

[mattmurdock-wife24]

From a boy to a men

Author's note: hi sweetie! Hope you like this one, have a good reading ✨️

This was a request

Warning: none, just pure soft and fluff stuff, and kisses

He hears his name shouted, adored, praised. He's never felt better, to be idolized, loved. He was raised for this, to be the sparkle in people's eyes, but all the lying and pretending didn't go down your throat.

You are the princess of the kingdom allied to Kenji's, promised to each other from birth. And you couldn't understand why everyone loved him so much, he's arrogant, petty, careless, a complete idiot and you hated him for it.

Today you'll meet him for dinner at his house, with your parents and his father. Where he'll ask for your hand in marriage, since your 18th birthday was not too long ago.

So you put on your most breathtaking dress, tidy up your wavy hair and put a cute bow in it, and drape a blouse over your dark skin. You enter the castle to be greeted by a warm embrace from the king, Gedde Wanatabe. Your eyes meet Kenji's, which have a wicked, dark glint in them.

The dinner itself was peaceful, but as it drew to a close, everyone became tense, and King Wanatabe handed Kenji a little black velvet box. Everyone got up, and Kenji knelt down in front of you, who were still sitting there in shock - it was really happening. You could hear your heart in your ears and you feared that Kenji would hear it too. The ring fit perfectly on your finger.

Everyone smiles, relieved, and leaves the "bride and groom" alone. You put your hands on your waist, trying to get as far away from Kenji as possible after the wedding, you hear him laugh and you grimace. "Why are you always so fucking mad at me?" He exhales.

"Because you're an idiot "And?" " because you're irresponsible" "And what, princess?"

You get angry and your body makes a sign to leave and he grabs your arm.

"I know you think I'm an idiot, but this idiot here is going to become the king" you sigh, annoyed "Your title doesn't matter, what matters is your heart, if you even have one! " you sigh " if you want to be a good king, a good husband. Become a man first, because all I see here is a bruised, asshole boy."

Your words hurt him in a way he had never felt before, it was like a bucket of cold water. He felt dirty, guilt rising through his body, so he was determined to do better, for you, for the kingdom.

He began to work harder, pulling all-nighters to resolve royal issues. He treated his subordinates with modesty and even his relationship with his father had improved, now all that was left was for you in his hands to love and care for... forever.

The big day had arrived, and you were on edge. You hadn't seen Kenji since that night. You look at yourself in the mirror, watching as the beautiful white lace dress dances down your curves. You're startled by the knock on the door, but you open it anyway.

You meet Kenji, who stares at you in amazement. You see a certain desperation in his voice when he says that you two need to talk.

"What do you want? The ceremony is about to start." "I did everything you asked, I changed, for you, for the crown, for my father. I worked until I couldn't anymore. And you were right, I was a piece of shit" you stare in disbelief at his words, this certainly wasn't the Kenji you knew "please"he whispers in your ear "be mine"

You were at the altar, with Kenji by your side, staring at you with a passionate look, which only made you even more nervous. When the priest said "till death do you part" Kenji grabbed you around the waist and kissed you deeply. Part of you felt embarrassed by the number of people watching, but another part of you just wanted to enjoy the moment, enjoy this new Kenji. "I'm already yours, I always have been" you sigh back into his ear.

hiii lovely soul, hope you liked it!

My requests are open and I write for several characters, and sometimes I can make an exception haha

Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 😊✨️