#may these beautiful souls rip.
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cr1msondll · 3 months ago
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All of you weirdos who are posting in support and making fan art of that boy who killed those beautiful innocent souls at apalachee high school. I pray you guys nvr find peace and nvr have children of your own. They have families that can see you guys’ weird obsession, they have friends who can see it. All they wanted to do was to have an education, and go to school. They won’t be able to cross that stage for graduation, they nvr even got a chance to be what they wanted to be bcs of a weirdo stepping foot on campus with a gun.
The two teachers who were m*rded can’t even do what they love anymore bcs of that weirdo. No one will be able to hear their sweet voices, or see their smiles anymore bcs of him. I hope he rots in hell and prison with his father. The same for you weirdos who like him, may you rot for all eternity.
May these beautiful four souls rip. Honor them. Remember them.
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wearenemies · 1 month ago
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dashboard simulator
mutual 1: *poor quality image of pete wentz* does anybody know where i can buy a crowbar. for sexual purposes
mutual 2: my mikey way tulpa is coming along well
mutual 3: its so over after this mcr is breaking up forever theres no hope for us didnt you see the messaging in their staging. god. fuck its over
mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*
mutual 4: im killing myself tomorrow
mutual 5: both of these blog posts may seem innocuous at first, but in fact when considered in relation to one another we can observe several similar phrases, and a pattern emerges in the pacing of his prose that proves without a doubt that he’s having an extramarital affair with his singer. first, the recurrence of the phra
mutual 1: i need to get a man pregnant
mutual 4: *joe trohman image* killing myself cancelled hello gorgeous 😍😍😍😍😍
mutual 6: mcr is releasing new music next week i know this deep in my soul the messaging in their staging is unmissable guys we have never been so fucking back in our lives
mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*
mutual 3: *image of two members of my chemical romance publicly beating the snot out of one another* do you remember how we used to run
mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*
mutual 7: frank iero is like a delicious steak to me i need to rip him apart like a feral dog
mutual 8: *the most stunning lovingly rendered drawing you’ve ever seen in your life of two middle aged musicians making out nasty style* just a quick doodle :)
mutual 4: my fucking bus was late killing myself is officially back on
mutual 5: *web weave consisting of sections of beautiful niche literature, medieval biblical illustrations, 17th century oil paintings, james baldwin quotations and peterick interviews*
mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*
mutual 7: do you guys think i could cite unholyverse in my applied religious literature thesis i cant ask my professor because she blocked my email but idk i think it counts as a good modern text
mutual 2: guys i think my mikey way tulpa might be starting to crave blood
mutual 6: *ray toro image* im experiencing divine ecstasy i need her to [DATA EXPUNGED]
mutual 9: i cant listen to fall out boy anymore guys i had a nightmare where andy was chasing me in the dark forest it seemed really real
mutual 10 (unattached to bandom): out of the beatles john would for sure have the biggest boobs
mutual 1: what if it was called when we were freaky fest
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florencemtrash · 1 year ago
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Heads Will Roll | Azriel x Reader Oneshot
Warnings: Violence (aka Reader kills some fae and Rhysand and Azriel are 100% cool with it), fluff
One of Koschei's followers turns up to the Court of Nightmares prepared to make a bargain: your life in exchange for Ataraxia. But he'll soon learn that you are not to be underestimated, and you are always exactly where you want to be.
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Azriel bristled from behind Feyre’s shoulder when the male winnowed into the Court of Nightmares in a dramatic display of power that had everyone beneath the dais falling back.
He was all sharp lines, emboldened by the pure black silhouette of his cape that flared out behind him, teasingly parting to reveal the bone white sword strapped to his right hip that seemed to whisper with horrible power. The only piece of him that didn’t look like it was cut from death and destruction were his bright blue eyes - startlingly innocent and all the more unnerving for it. He fit in well with the violence the Court of Nightmares naturally radiated. 
Rhysand’s eyebrow curled up in a look of carefully crafted boredom from atop his obsidian throne. The only one who looked more nonchalant than him was Feyre. She tilted her head up, staring down the slant of her nose to the unknown male as he extended his arms and bowed as prettily as a bird. 
“Greetings.” Even his voice was sharp and cutting. “To the Lord and Lady.” 
Cassian frowned from behind Rhysand’s back at the omission of their proper title. To the outside, Rhysand was anything if not bored. Inside, he was ready to blow the male to bits. He wore Koschei’s stamp on his forehead, red and dripping like a fresh wound.
Neither the High Lord nor the High Lady deigned to reply.
The male only smiled. All teeth. 
“I come to you on behalf of my master.” His smile grew. More teeth. “You may have heard his name.” 
“Koschei.” The name rolled off Feyre’s lips as easily as if she were ordering a meal - blasé and unimportant. But the name shifted the energy in the room, stirring up hornet's nests of gossip. Heads bowed towards one another like grass stalks in the wind, whispering.
Feyre tapped one finger on her forehead, “He has a fondness for marking his followers.”
“Like a collar on a dog.” Rhysand finished. He stroked the bond, grounded by the feeling of Feyre’s very soul on the other side. She had always been - and always would be - his calm.
“My name is Darwynn.” The male tipped his white head, “And I bring news from my master. News you may find worthy of your time.” 
Azriel’s heart picked up in his chest. 
He knew what was coming - the words that would soon slip out of Darwynn’s mouth. You’d been gone for over a week and he felt your absence from his side as intensely as if someone had ripped the wings from his back. Empty, cold, and unbalanced.
For the first three days he hadn’t worried, even as the bond lay dormant in his chest. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hunt after secrets, unraveling mysteries like threads in a coat or diving into the unknown with an insatiable appetite.
Three days were nothing. But nine days was getting to be concerning.
“Go on.” Feyre said with a wave of her hand, looking more interested in the glass of wine in her hand than anything else. 
Darwynn reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin string of silver stained with blood - a necklace crafted from unbreakable metal with a deep blue pendant swaying like a pendulum. It was a piece of one of Azriel’s siphons, imbued with a small measure of his power and given to you as a Solstice gift after you’d accepted the bond. In the twenty years you’d been together, you’d never once taken it off. It was unnatural to see it swinging in the cruel male's hands.
Cassian growled. Azriel’s jaw clenched, beautiful brows lifting only ever so slightly in surprise. It was the only expression the Shadowsinger had shown all night.
Rhysand mirrored his expression. “Ahhhh yes, my sister. How long has she been missing for now, Az?” Rhysand looked back at him, some unspoken agreement passing through that brief glance. If this male had truly captured you, he would not be leaving this room with his head still on his shoulders.
“Nine days.” The Shadowsinger said, his mouth twitching to the side in a cryptic mix of a smirk and a snarl.
“You have her.” Feyre said. It wasn’t a question.
Darwynn’s eyes lit up with glee and he nodded, clapping his hands together like a child opening birthday presents.
“And what do you want for her? That is why you are here, is it not?” Feyre said once his “applause” ended.
Darwynn shook his finger at her, “It is comforting to know that since Amarantha’s trials, you’ve learned to - how shall I say this? Read between the lines.” 
“Careful.” Rhysand said, a warning trapped within that honey-laced word. Feyre’s illiteracy was hardly a concern for anyone anymore - Rhysand had seen to that - but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a subject that smarted and burned when prodded. 
Feyre’s dark red lips only turned up in a small smirk. Her mate would not allow any harm to befall her - even insults from pathetic creatures such as Darwynn.
"But I digress." Darwynn said silkily, “You should know she is uninjured-” 
“Obviously,” Cassian huffed under his breath, stealing a glance at his brother beside him. Azriel was handling this surprisingly well. If it were Nesta who’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, Cassian would not be able to school his emotions so readily. 
“And my master would like to make a trade.”
“A trade?” Rhysand said, displaying more interest in the subject than ever before. This was an opportunity to play Koschei’s hand. To gain whatever knowledge they could from the slippery sorcerer who was gaining more momentum each passing day. Koschei was still confined to his lake on the continent, but that didn’t mean he was powerless. No, not at all. 
Darwynn pointed a knowing finger at Rhysand’s belt where Ataraxia rested as silent as the death that hung over a deep winter’s night. 
“I see.” Rhysand said. 
So that’s what he wants. Feyre spoke to him through the bond, Some trace of Nesta’s power.
Y/n was right. He wants to leave the lake.
And he needs whatever power Nesta took from the Cauldron to do it.
Rhys hummed in thought, one finger lazily tracing the edge of his drink. He knew his sister, knew the power that raced through her veins, and she was not one to be trifled with. But people loved to underestimate her - the poor second child too weak and damaged to fight after losing her wings to the old High Lord of Spring. The female who rested on her brother’s strength and crown like a sapling tied to a stake. She wielded those assumptions carefully. It was perhaps one of her greatest weapons. 
Nine days. She’d been gone for nine days. Nine days since he’d sent her on a mission to the continent to spy on Koschei’s followers. Six days since anyone had heard from her. Three days since her scheduled return. 
Azriel stiffened and blinked - a movement so subtle that only Rhys, Cass, and Feyre noticed. All at once the tension left Rhysand's shoulders. Such a reaction from Az could only mean one thing - you'd arrived.
Rhysand clicked his tongue disapprovingly, taking a deep draught of his wine and muttered, “She’s late.” 
“She likes to be thorough.” Azriel said with the smallest of smiles.
“Even so. I don’t like to be kept waiting. She could’ve been captured sooner. Escaped earlier. Given us notice that she was coming.” He shook his raven black hair.
Azriel smirked, feeling the strength of the bond in his chest. Never wavering, “Maybe she finally decided to adopt your flair for the dramatic.” His golden hazel eyes flickered upward for the briefest of moments and you flashed him a quick smile from where you hid in the mountain rock above.
You’d only just opened your side of the bond, love and reassurance rolling over him like a flood. You were safe. You were whole. And you had carried out your plan beautifully.
Sorry to keep you waiting, my love. I had business to attend to. You spoke to your mate and only him.
I'd wait forever for you. You know that.
He felt your laughter through the bond like the fresh rain.
Who would've guessed the Spymaster's such a romantic.
Only for you. Only for you.
Darwynn narrowed his eyes, lips flattening into a thin line as pale as the moon. Something had changed in the air and he couldn't put his finger on it. This wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. He knew the Inner Circle were practiced in hiding their emotions but this… they almost looked pleased. Cassian especially was grinning like a madman, suppressing his laughter as Rhysand sent his thoughts to his mind.
“My master keeps good on his promises. But until you give me the bade, I can’t promise you what pieces of your wife there will be left to bring back.” Darwynn snarled, even as that feeling of dread grew in his stomach. He’d walked in here so confident. He needed to regain that confidence. He relaxed his shoulders. Stood up taller.
A wet thud echoed throughout the hall. Someone screamed - a female with blue-gray skin reeled backward, one hand clamped over her mouth in horror as she tripped over her blood-splattered silks. 
A decapitated head - warm, oozing, and less than a day old - lolled on the floor. Its eyes were frozen in a look of surprised horror. 
Darwynn’s heart stuttered to a stop when he recognized the bloated and bruised face. The face of one of his strongest males, left behind on the continent to watch over Koschei’s prison. 
Rhysand smirked and raised his wine glass towards Darwynn. The High Lord’s power flooded out over the room, knitting together a powerful web of magic that made it impossible for anyone to winnow in or out. Except for you of course - his darling sister who never failed to find the weak points in his magic and slip through as slyly as a cat. 
“There’s something you should know about my dear sister.” Rhysand’s voice boomed over the near-silent room without even trying.
A second head dropped from the ceiling. Then a third. Then a fourth. Laid out in a neat little arc around Darwynn.
“She never gets caught. She is always precisely where she wants to be.” 
Azriel’s eyes were trained on the slate gray arches overheard where he could just barely make out your form as you winnowed around the room, hiding in the shadows and dropping your gruesome packages in a neat circle around Darwynn’s shaking form.
The male unsheathed his sword, spinning around madly and counting every thud until all twelve of your guards were accounted for. 
All dead. 
All of them.
He growled dangerously, eyes beginning to glow a brilliant, icy blue as he aimed his power at the dais, right towards Rhysand. Azriel smiled with cruel satisfaction when you slipped out from behind Darwynn’s silhouette, bloodied and menacing. The knife glinted in the faelight, catching the curve of your arm as you spun around and drove the weapon through Darwynn’s eye. The light wrapping around him fizzled out into anything.
The male rocked on his feet, arms going slack and dropping the sword with a clatter on the ground. His legs gave out soon after, his body crumpling in on itself as easily as paper. 
You calmly rolled down the sleeves of your blood-soaked shirt, flicking a piece of gore off your shoulder in a manner so similar to Rhysand that your brother couldn't help but chuckle. 
You flashed him a grin - a stroke of white brushed across a red splattered canvas. 
“Brother.” You said, tipping your chin up in a show of greeting. 
“A bit dramatic, don’t you think, sister?” Rhysand gestured out to the Court of Nightmares. You spared them a look. Everyone looked positively sinful in their scraps of silk and exposed skin, silent and trembling as their dinners burned their way up from their stomachs to their throats.
You shrugged and winked at Rhys, “I learned from the best.” 
“Go get cleaned up.” He said. It was a clear and direct command, but you didn’t miss the warmth and hint of pride in his voice.
“As my High Lord commands.” You said, bowing deeply. 
At home. Rhysand spoke in your mind as you straightened. Get some rest. You did well.
You sighed in relief, happy that you would be free from whatever Court of Nightmare business left to attend to.
Thank you.
There was a brief pause before Rhysand continued, But next time you plan to get kidnapped, let me know. I was actually starting to worry and I’m not sure my old heart can take it.
You snorted, I’ll keep your elderly constitution in mind next time.
You dipped your head once more before winnowing to the River House. The smell of home nearly knocked you off your feet.
There would be more time to joke around with your brother - more time to tell him everything you’d learned - but right now you were in desperate need of a bath.
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You sank into your third bath of the night, groaning in pleasure as the hot water rolled over your aching muscles. The first two baths had purely functioned to scrub off the dried blood from your hair and skin. The majority of it wasn’t yours. But this bath, with all the fragrant oils and scents, was for enjoyment and relaxation.
It was no easy business getting kidnapped, and no easy business escaping. But like every other mission, you’d made away like a bandit in the night, carrying with you priceless pieces of knowledge and enough secrets to demolish an entire court. 
Your eyes flickered open at the feeling of shadows lacing around your arms, soothing your skin with a cool touch that was no replacement for the hands that followed. 
Finally your mate had decided to join you.
You sighed in happiness as Azriel trailed his fingers up your arms, scarred hands landing at your neck and gently tilting your head back so he could plant a firm kiss on your lips.
The bond sang within your chest more joyfully than a songbird. You didn’t like silencing this connection, you didn’t like shutting Azriel out, but sometimes your work necessitated it. It was for your safety as much as his. But no one understood that more than the Spymaster of the Night Court.
“Hello, my love.” Azriel’s voice vibrated through the air, warming your chest and shaking your bones. 
“Hello, Azriel.” You murmured, soapy hands trailing through his raven black hair so that he was completely surrounded by your scent.
“Gods, I missed you.” He said. He knelt on the tiled floor behind you, wrapping his arms around your bare chest as he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. “I missed you so much." A kiss on your neck, "So, so much.”
“I missed you too.” You murmured, pulling him around to the side of the tub so that you could see him better. You traced the faint purple bruises beneath his eyes. Not an unfamiliar sight. Azriel had never been a restful sleeper, but since mating and marrying you, he’d been spoiled rotten and now could barely sleep a wink without you curled up in his arms. 
“Sorry I messed up your hair.” You apologized, twirling the now damp strands of his hair so they curled around your fingers. 
He smiled. It was a rare sight to anyone other than you, but seeing him happy never ceased to warm your bones.
“You did well, darling.” He said, smoothing back your hair before saying more seriously, “But next time could you tell me your plans before you shut me out?” 
You winced. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time.”
“I figured as much.” Azriel said, kissing your cheeks to show that he wasn’t upset. You leaned into his touch as he traced your cheekbones with his thumbs. 
You were the most precious thing in the world to him. More precious than his wings. More precious than his freedom. More precious than the 500 hundred years it had taken him to finally realize what you were to him. The thought of losing you was more painful than a knife to the stomach.
“You can trust me.” You said, “I know how to handle myself.” 
Azriel chuckled and shook his head, “I am very well aware of both those things,” He tilted his head in thought, “And I’m fairly certain everyone else also knows now.” 
You blushed, “Maybe it was a bit much.” 
Azriel shrugged, “Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is one thing.”
“And what is this one thing?” You asked, leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like cedar and rain. He tasted like home.
“That you should never be afraid of showing your power. Never. No matter what happens. No matter what people say.” 
His hand that had been cradling the back of your neck moved down, tracing the scars on your shoulder blades where your wings had once been. You shivered under his touch, but didn’t recoil. He understood. He was perhaps the only person who understood what it meant to have such a physical piece of yourself taken away. 
You kissed his hands, taking care to feel every valley beneath your lips and worship them. They were a part of him now, tied to him as much as his shadows were, and so how could you not love them? How could you not love him? This male who was your equal in every way imaginable and who made you feel happier and safer than you ever thought possible. 
He helped you out of the bathtub, drying your skin and hair before carefully brushing through all the tangles and knots. 
“I should go report to Rhys.” You said with little determination as Azriel laid you out on the bed and then crawled under the covers beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both under the protective cover of his wings.
“Let it wait until tomorrow. Let me have you tonight.” 
You smiled, “I’ve only been gone nine days.” 
His hazel eyes melted into yours. “Nine days too long, Y/n.” 
You could never deny him anything when he looked at you like that, so full of feeling and a rawness too intense for words. And it wasn’t like you were dying to leave this bed and chase after your brother. Like Azriel had said - it could wait until tomorrow. So you melted into his arms and watched as Azriel slowly fell into a deep sleep for the first time in nine days.
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Author's note:
A woman covered in the blood of her enemies is *chef's kisses*
That's it. That's the note.
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fangisms · 1 year ago
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lady may
A/N: something ab writing for an angry hufflepuff really saved my soul. she is SO valid. maybe i’m her. (also this song eats away at my brain, so i had to write ab it… naturally) gif creds: @frodo-sam
Pairings: Cedric Diggory x Fem!Grumpy!Hufflepuff!Reader
Summary: Well, he’s not the toughest hickory that your axe has ever felled // But he’s a hickory just as well 1.5k words
Warnings: fluff, cursing, two idiots very much in love, pining, angry hufflepuff, dumb/embarassed reader (lovingly), golden retriever cedric, quidditch injury mention
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How could you look so beautiful drenched by the pouring rain, hovering ten meters in the air, goggles suctioned to your face, barking orders at the rest of the team like a drill sergeant? It’d always make him wonder. And midgame, that’s a silly thing to do. Which is exactly why he’s doing it.
You’re the angriest girl Cedric’s ever met. World class beater and a great captain, but you’ve got serious anger issues. The guys have started calling you boxer because you’re always on the verge of a scrap. Cedric has seen you chew out almost every position on the team. Except him. You’ve never yelled at him, you barely even look in his direction on a good day. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, he wants you to yell at him.
Well, not entirely inexplicable. Now would be the best time to mention he’s got a huge crush on you. In fact, he’s had a crush on you since you became team captain. You’ve always been pretty, but something about the title and the power really commanded his attention.
Which is precisely why he needs you to yell at him. He craves it. He’s been waiting all year for you to tell him he’s an idiot and that he’s doing everything wrong. But you won’t. And desperate times call for very desperate measures.
He’s barely dodging bludgers, not even trying for the snitch, doing party tricks in front of the stands, anything for you to glance his way. And then he goes and gets knocked off his broom. Luckily, he wasn’t too high in the air and he wasn’t flying too fast. The worst that happened was he got the wind knocked out of him. The best? You marching toward him like a sicced dog.
You kneel at his side, goggles loose around your neck as you coo, “are you okay?”
What? No, this is all wrong, you’re supposed to call him stupid, say that next time he’s off the team. Not ask if he’s okay.
Cedric nods and you help him sit up, signalling to the stadium that he’s alright. A cheer rips through the crowd.
“Can you play?” you huff, patting his back softly. He’s got butterflies.
“Yeah,” he says. When you get him on his feet, he almost wishes you won’t let go. And he suddenly remembers you’re much prettier up close, and his heart nearly gives out.
“Good sport, Diggory,” you tease, hopping back on your broom, “Back to work!”
It’d take a brain injury to get your attention.
The game goes off without a hitch: Cedric goes back to actually trying for the snitch and wins Hufflepuff the game. He’s a little disappointed he hsan’t given you anything else to be upset about. So once the celebration is over, he catches you outside of the locker rooms.
“Why didn’t you get mad at me?” Cedric asks, jogging to catch you as you head back towards the dorms. You don’t respond, but he’s sure you heard him. So he nudges your shoulder. “Come on, boxer, I’ve seen you angry, I’m prepared.”
You stop dead in your tracks, and he slows to a stop just behind you. Then you turn to face him, and he’s never seen your glare so intense.
“Listen, Diggory, you’re smart, you’ve got talent, and I trust you to perform well on this team. So I can’t for the life of me understand why you go out on that field just to dick around.”
You’re serious. Not angry, just serious. You’ve got this calm and collected tone that drives him absolutely up-the-wall insane. But he wants you to yell.
“You have plenty of adoring fans tracking your every move, you don’t have to pull dumb shit to get people to like you. You could’ve gotten yourself hurt or killed, understand? So I advise you put your team and your safety before your reputation,” you say, storming off with your bag slung over your shoulder.
And it gets him kind of worked up because obviously, he wouldn’t have done any of it if it weren’t for you. You and your stupidly selective anger issues. And your stupid smile.
“Hold on,” he hollers, still half drunk on the idea of being subject to your rage, “you think I don’t put this team at the top of all of my lists? Clearly, I love this stupid sport or I wouldn’t put so much damn time and effort into it!”
“If you love this sport, act like it.” Your jaw ticks before you march through the doorway, leaving him flustered in the mist of the courtyard.
He’s giving it one last go. If you won’t get angry with him, maybe he ought to just confess his feelings outright. This feels like the most rational he’s ever been. He even combed his hair extra carefully in hopes of you noticing.
Your friends quiet down when he approaches you in the mess hall, small flower pinched between his fingers, grin plastered across his face. You look a little annoyed but he’s pretty sure it’s just shock. And suddenly it feels like grade school when they all burst into giggles.
“This is for you—”
“Diggory.”
He cocks a brow. “Yeah?”
You grab the sleeve of his robes and drag him out into the hall, near slamming him into the stone wall. So much for his combed hair.
“What was that back there?” you hiss, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Well. I brought you a flower. It’s from the field—”
“I can see that!”—you’re frenzied searhcing for any possible explanation other than he has a head injury from falling—“Explain to me why.”
He looks confused and presents the flower again.“Isn’t it obvious?”
You look down at the flower. It’s small and white and looks so delicate in his hand. And you look at him. You suppose his pupils are a little extra dilated. “Are you poisoned? Or drunk?”
“No!”
You finally let go of him to gesture wildly. “Then what, Cedric—Merlin’s beard—What???”
“I brought you a flower,” he coos, tilting his head. You press two fingers to the bridge of your nose.
“Yeah, I got that part—”
“Hold on—hasn’t anyone ever given you something nice because… they like you?” Cedric hums, shuffling closer to you. Your eyes are glued to the tiny flower, but you won’t take it. Then you glare up at him.
“Is this a joke? Did the twins put you up to it?”
“No, just take the flower! I like you!” He sounds dastardly jovial, taking your wrist in one hand and presisng the flower to your palm with the other.
“What?” you scoff. Still staring down at the flower, making him wish his face was made of them so you’d look at him like that.
“Yeah,” he sighs.
And then you look at him. In the eyes. Perplexed, brows knitted, but you’re looking right at him and he could faint. Maybe it is a head injury.
“But I’m not… I’m not like…”
“Like what?” he asks.
“Well, it’s just—I’m confused because… you like pretty girls, and I’m not… that’s not what I do—am. What I am.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” he huffs.
“Cho is pretty,” you state.
“You’re pretty.”
“No, Cedric, I play quidditch. If I was pretty, I’d have a boyfriend,” you reason, shrugging your shoulders and giving him a real run for his money.
“And those things are connected… how?”
You scoff and relax a little when he puts his hands on his hips. So what if he’s incredibly handsome. So what if your friends want to see you together. So what if he’s the one person you don’t want to rip to shreds. It’s not like any of that matters. Right?
“It makes sense!” you say.
“No, it doesn’t. Can I be your boyfriend?”
“Diggory, don’t—”
“Is that a no?”
“Well, no! But you’re being rash! You’ll change your mind, and you’ll want your flower back!”
He shakes his head. “No. I gave you a flower because I think you’re very wonderful and very beautiful and I want to be your boyfriend.”
“But…”—he’s very amused by the fact that he’s made you flustered—“I sweat a lot!”
“So do I,” he chuckles, “we do play quidditch together, I hope you know.”
“Okay, okay, fine. We… argue!” you chirp.
“And you’re almost always right! Problem solved,” he says, “Now, would you be my girlfriend or do I have to get down on my knees?”
“No! I mean, yes! No, no, no knees, just… yes. I will be your girlfriend.”
Cedric smirks, taking the flower from your still open palm and tucking it behind your ear. Yesterday, he could barely say hello to you, and now he’s pulling you closer and tilting your chin up. His heart flutters when you palm his waist, and you smile when he leans a little closer.
“Are you going to kiss me?” you hum. He chuckles.
“Only if you’d like.”
You roll your eyes and smile. “Naturally.”
masterlist
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thatlittlered · 20 days ago
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rings of power men | tropes
warning(s): light TROP spoilers, gn!reader used throughout
author's note: most of these will be turned into actual fics :)
-.-.-
Elrond + friends to lovers
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GIF by @fukutomichi
As kind as summer, as gentle as the soft rays of sun upon your faces whilst you sit in each other's company and he is weaving, unbeknownst to you, tales of your wit and beauty in his mind; poems he would never dare show you. It was love long before either of you knew what to call it.
Gil-galad + opposites attract
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GIF by @fukutomichi
Born and raised the son of kings, Gil-galad has known nothing but duty during his lifetime. A King neither ventures, nor tries his hand at passing affections, and yet the curse of a still beating heart inevitably finds him when his lieutenant and trusted friend Círdan is apprenticed by a lovely lowly elf.
Celebrimbor + soulmates
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GIF by @dailyflicks
It is instant, absolute. As if the two of you were born a mystical creature, bearing two faces, four arms and four legs, until the Valar separated you and forced you to spend eternity searching for your other half. In the worst of times and the most unlikely of places, the search has come to cease. Alas, so has the time of peace.
Arondir + forbidden love
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GIF by @lousolversons
The Silvan elf comes to respect the race of men for what they are during his time in the Southlands and whilst he dare not admit it, it does pertain with knowing you. It is hard to care for the hateful gazes of villagers when your own gaze is so tender under the moonlight, your hands cold and decisive when you touch him here where no one can hear or see. Though he has not tasted mortality, it must taste like you and the urgency you kiss him with, as if in fear the sun might never rise again.
Elendil + forbidden love, age gap
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GIF by @frodo-sam
This man was born to be your dutiful protector, loyal like no other and sworn to serve you as his ruler with everything he has. Loyalty and love tend to melt into each other, merge so that it is impossible to tell them apart. It is a tormenting, silent agreement that neither of you may speak on these feelings and yet, it... overwhelms.
Valandil + childhood sweethearts
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GIF by @fukutomichi
To know and love Valandil comes as easy as breathing air. You have been doing both for just as long, you think. Childish adoration blossoms in time until your souls are tethered and he will commit his life to earning rank and making it official, from the streets of Númenor to the edge of the world, where he hopes to travel with you.
Isildur + love triangle, second chance
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GIF by @vidalharkness
Isildur has always held a deep admiration for you, a childish infatuation even, but your bond with Valandil always comes before all and he happily accepts things as they are for a long time. Friendship is of equal, if not grander, worth and he considers both of you his dear friends above all. Until Valandil is killed, that is. The love each of you have for him and each other perseveres until grief threatens to swallow you whole. On the precipice of desperation, a teary kiss is meant to bring comfort. Yes, of course. That is what this must be.
-.-.-
bonus:
Adar + enemies to lovers
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GIF by @anthemias
Sauron saw in you every weakness, every earthly, pathetic desire to be appreciated and loved when everyone and everything has been cruelly ripped from you. To be part of something larger than the pain eating away at your chest until your days in Middle Earth are over and you can find refuge in the arms of those who unlike you, gave their lives for a greater cause. He saw and took full advantage. Adar sees it now too when he looks at you; the agony of knowing you have played into the hands of evil itself just as he has. There is always a sliver of affection in understanding another, is there not?
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dark-and-kawaii · 3 months ago
Note
your writing makes me go so fucking feral dude oh my god
could i request a haarlep/reader and raphael/reader nsfw blurb or literally anything? i eat your writing up like it's my last meal
☆ Tʜᴇɪʀ Lᴏᴠᴇʟʏ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Tᴏʏ ☆
₊˚⊹♡ Pᴀɪʀɪɴɢs: Haarlep x F!Tav/Reader ✧ Raphael x F!Tav/Reader
₊˚⊹♡ Cᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ: NSFW ✧ Soft Haarlep Towards End ✧ Possessive Raphael ✧ Filling You With So Much Cum Your Tummy Feels Full ✧ Big Pretty Ridged Cocks ✧ Breeding You ✧ Creampie ✧ Stretching You Nicely
₊˚⊹♡ Nᴏᴛᴇ: Awh ♡ ♡ ♡ Thank You So Much For Enjoying My Work xoxo!!! I Did Both Because Both Of Them Are Perfection!!! I Hope You Love This My Dear ♡ ♡ ♡ May This Feed Your Soul And Your Horniness xoxo ♡ ♡ ♡
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Hᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ
“Who said you can rest, dove~”
Haarlep lifted your limp body with ease, his nails kissing your hips as he held your abused hole above his thick cock. The creatures cum drooling from your twitching pussy, making quite the mess on his lap, “Is this really the best your body can do? How disappointing.” He pouts mockingly, “We were only just getting started, little love~”
The incubus’ lips pulled into a sharp grin as his tail curled around your thigh to spread your leg wider for him. The tip of his cock teasing your opening, pushing into the sloppy mess your body was.
You were so tired… So, so tired… Sore, and exhausted. You had lost count of how many times you came and how many times Haarlep did. But you still couldn't help but cry out as Haarlep impaled you on his beautiful veiny cock once again, your head lolled back before your body slumped forward onto his chest, “Ahhh~♡ Ha-Haarleeeerp~ Th-e tip of y-your dick and n’my cervix are touching n’kissing each other~~~♡ Aahh~ It h-hurts so s’good~! Y-Yur gonna rip m-my n’insides~ ♡ Aaahha~”
A low purr rumbled in Haarlep's chest at your words as he started bouncing you on his cock, “What a good little toy~ You're taking me so well, dove~! Such a lovely little plaything~” Your breast, smushed so wonderfully against his chest, rubbed against his warm skin with each thrust, and he could feel how those cute perky nipples had gotten hard against him, “even though we’ve had our fun so many times now, you still react so nicely~ and you’re still so wonderfully tight~” his tongue licks against your cheek, lapping at the sweat that drenched your lovely flushed skin, “it almost feels like my cock is being strangled~”
Your arms wrapped around Haarlep's neck, and you held on tight, trying your best to match his pace and movements, your insides stretched and stuffed, the head of his cock hitting the entrance of your womb with each bounce, “s’too rough. M-my insides ngh~ a-are being bullied~ ♡ I- I feel like I'm gonna diee~ aahh~! ♡♡ Y-you're g-gonna break m-me~♡” You could feel his cum from the previous rounds sloshing around in your gut, the excess bubbling out with each thrust.
The creature knew how to make you break, knew how to make those pretty eyes of yours glaze over and roll into the back of your skull until tears dripped down your cheeks. Knew how to make those soft little noises come from your lips as you were fucked dumb.
“I would never allow that, sweet dove~ What fun would I have if you were broken before our time was up~?” His tail loosened around your leg and slid up your body, the tip of it flicking and brushing against your skin, his eyes narrowing, “Besides, if you were to die, who would let me have my fill~? And then, who would make such delicious, delectable noises just for me, little dove~?”
You were unable to respond, his thrusts too much for your poor mind… Unable to feel the way his arms were now securely wrapped around you, keeping you close. How his tail curled protectively against your back, or the soft way his eyes gazed at you…
You were unable to see just how gentle and caring his expression was as he fucked you. How the way his mouth parted, the fangs that had previously torn through your flesh and left behind bloody, purple marks, now glistened with saliva as he whispered, cooed and moaned, sweet words just for you, his little dove… Yes you were, his little dove, the one who came to him and gave him your life and body.
His sweet, lovely, little dove.
Rᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ
Your face was pressed into his mattress, his clawed hand tangled in your tousled locks as his hips snap against you, each thrust eliciting a sharp gasp or moan from those pretty bruised lips of yours. He had his other large hand splayed across the small of your back, holding you in place. His ridged cock pushing the cum he dumped into you further until it takes up every inch of space, making you feel full and stuffed.
“R-Raphael~! Pleassse! W-wait!!” You whimper pathetically, voice cracking as he ruts harder against you.
He leans over you, his hot breath washing over your back, causing goosebumps to erupt over your heated skin, before he growls lowly, “You were clearly reveling in the moment just a moment ago; do not retreat into shyness now, my little bird.”
Little bird, or rather little songbird as he usually says… Was his most recent pet name for you simply because he enjoyed the way you sung his name like a songbird as your body convulsed with each orgasm he wrung out of you.
Raphael licked a long, slow stripe up your spine, chuckling as you shiver and squirmed beneath him, mewling softly, before he nuzzles your neck and whispers huskily in your ear, his voice deep and gravelly, his tone alone sending a rush of heat to your face, “You're mine, leaking my seed. Do you not yet comprehend? I aim to ensure that your womb is nourished on this day.”
Your lips fell open, your eyes widening and cheeks flushing as his words settled in the deepest parts of your mind. The very thought of being bred by this devil, of his warm seed taking root within your belly, it made your head dizzy, “I-I’m-I... I-I'm- m’your- y-yours~” You slur, tongue heavy as you speak, “S’good~ m’your property~”
Raphael chuckles and pulls away, only to flip you over onto your back and then grab your thighs and pull them up, his hands moving to hook them behind your knees, pressing them close to your chest, “Indeed, my lovely little songbird, you belong to me.”
His hand caresses your cheek, a thumb running across your lips, pulling the bottom one down, a string of saliva connecting the digit and your lip, “Your lips,” his nail bites into the supple flesh, dragging across, splitting it, and the metallic taste of blood coats your tongue, making him moan as he watches you lick it up, a dark, hungry look in his eye, “your tongue, ah such a pleasurable anatomy” he slips a digit onto your tongue, groaning as you swirl it around his thick finger, “your womb” his finger leaves your mouth with a wet plop and your saliva as it trails down between your breasts until he finds where your bodies are joined.
A small bulge present beneath your navel, and he presses his palm flat against it, making you arch your back as his cock throbs and twitches inside of you, “your soul…“ He grinds his hips, pushing his cock deeper and harder against that spot, making you squeal, the bulge growing more pronounced and causing your stomach to distend as the tip of his cock nudges against your cervix, “all of you belongs to me.”
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nyashykyunnie · 7 months ago
Text
˗ˏˋ One-Sided Love: In Which, you realize Jinwoo was always for ???... ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
・┆✦ Entry : 017 ✦ ┆・
‼️[tw: ANGST TO FLUFF, HAPPY ENDING, strong imagery of depression, hanahaki disease, hurt, subtance-abuse, suicidal-imagery, mention of death]‼️
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part Two ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ He Lied. He Had to Lie. He Needed to Lie. ] ¡! ❞
It is his first, and his final gift to you.   The you who is no longer by his side. He bids you a farewell, a farewell he never thought he would do. For a friend.       "Goodbye, may your dreams be pleasant as you drift in purgatory. May your soul rest. I'm sorry."
As Jinwoo walks away from the stonehead, a sudden sharp ring stabs through his head. He groaned, almost stumbling on the muddy ground from the sheer agony.
He continued to struggle for a while, before finally removing his hand that had been gripping the side of his head. His fingers that had been wrapped around the umbrella hilt loosened, causing the object to flutter and fall down the floor. Splattering down on the muddy floor.
Ah… Yes.
He finally remembers. 
Everything that he had erased in his memories,... Have finally come back. The things he had buried in the sea of forgotten memories, have suddenly come back to him like a dam bursting open. It swallowed everything at its wake.
Everything that Jinwoo swore he would never have again, has finally come back.
His gaze lingered back on the stonehead in front of him. The lonely, lonely rock that was hollow and devoid of anything.
Though the flowers he had offered were beautiful as they were, it didn’t matter as the rain dampened the pretty petals down into pathetic, lifeless things. Those flowers were beautiful when he had offered it, but now, it looked drained of all its colours.
Jinwoo took a step again, turning his back and walking away.
He was trying desperately to ignore the hammering feeling ripping his heart apart.
Maybe it was of guilt, of sadness, of shame, of remorse— No.
Maybe it was all of it.
As Jinwoo comes home, his gaze would linger upon Cha Hae-in, who greets him warmly with that beaming smile.
She was beautiful, like a precious gemstone gleaming amongst the cobbles.
Jinwoo wanted to admire her, he truly did, but the memories he has regained caused her image to become muddy.
He tried everyday, he tried to be happy, he tried to play the perfect role of boyfriend to her. He kept up his appearances as the most beloved and hailed hunter.
But everything was slowly starting to swallow him into the abyss.
Ironic, isn’t it?
He was the embodiment of the darkness, the face of death, the persona of all the shadows.
Yet somehow, his own darkness was finally starting to destroy him from within.
The more the days passed, the more his grey eyes would lose their life, the more empty they became. Eventually, Jinwoo’s normally calm gaze—
Would become faded.
His eyes were still there, but for some reason, it felt that they were far gone. The little light that he had in his brilliant orbs has finally disappeared.
Jinwoo was rotting from the inside-out. As if his heart is beating out black ichor. He felt vile and disgusting, he wanted to rip himself apart, he wanted to stab himself and put an end to it.
Jinwoo was drowning now. 
Not even Hae-in’s loving words and affectionate advances weren’t doing it for him.
The more Jinwoo looked at her, the more muddled his gaze would become.
He didn’t know if it was hate or disgust.
He still needed to be a good man, so he politely asked her to break off the relationship. He didn’t want part of this anymore, he didn’t want to keep up the illusion anymore. He just wanted to disappear.
Jinwoo started to become an alcoholic, he would douse bottle after bottle but to his dismay— He could never be drunk. He couldn’t drink his sorrows away. He can’t get lost in the blissful euphoria of being lost in the toxicity of debauchery.
Even his family can't stop Jinwoo’s descent into silent madness.
He felt pathetic and guilty whenever he would see the pained expressions they would make when they see the amount of bottles he had already empty.
So Jinwoo would isolate himself in the land of eternal rest, where not even his children can call out to him unless absolutely necessary.
Jinwoo really just wanted to hide here, to bask in the darkness he had first mastered but now is a representation of his dying consciousness.
He would disappear and reappear again and again.
Whenever he hunts, his methods are especially brutal and unforgiving, as if he is projecting all of his pain onto the poor creatures that would cross paths with him.
He would often come out of the gates completely drenched in blood, creating an image of utter horror but somehow the bloodbath he showers in suited his broken gaze.
Jinwoo felt more like a wanderer now.
Ceaselessly taking one step in front of the other, wandering aimlessly like a lost spirit that is nothing more than a fleeting illusion.
Wander. Wander. Wander.
And eventually, he wanders over to your resting place. Jinwoo found himself unconsciously walking to your grave eventually, his distant gaze reading the stonehead over and over as if expecting something of some sort.
The memories he was trying to repress so badly, are torturing him again.
Jinwoo had spent… 800 times regressing over and over.
The reason?
You.
The you who is now dead.
But why is that? Didn’t he make you suffer such a torturous heartbreak? Didn’t he himself push you away and abandon you to your own woes? So why?
Those 800 times he had regressed, Jinwoo had lost you over and over. No matter how hard he tries to save you, no matter how hard he attempts to change your fate— Jinwoo would keep losing you and in the end your cold corpse would be in his arms while he screams into the air; cursing the gods and everything that is alive. 
Why?... How come everything else could have a happy ending but you? You who had always been there for him, you who cradled him in most miserable days? You who had always been the one to patch his wounds up? Why can’t he have you? Why can’t he give you everything? 
Jinwoo had tried every goddamn method.
He killed the gods, he murdered the monarchs, he sealed off the gates, he tried every outcome he could ever think of— And yet… And yet the outcome is always the same.
Jinwoo kept gambling, pulling card after card after card after card… And now he is empty handed.
All of it always ends with him having the fool in his hand. 
He cries, laughing like a madman as he knelt in front of your grave as if he was begging for mercy.
Jinwoo thought that removing himself from your life would solve things. He attempted to remove your memories and it didn’t work.
So Jinwoo instead tried to remove his memories of you. Because if he had kept those memories of you, he wouldn’t be able to resist himself and would run back to your arms where he felt so safe and sound.
Even after he removed every trace of you in his brain— His heart stubbornly yearned for you and reversed the curse he had inflicted on himself and once again showed him the hell he tried so desperately tried to escape.
“Child, you’re weeping again” Jinwoo’s gaze would snap up, finding himself in the presence of Ashborn who is sporting his image. “Your plans have failed once again, I see”
Jinwoo bitterly laughs, getting up from his pathetic position. “Of course I did, and you as always— Had predicted it. You’re right, I lost that person again.”
“...”
“I tried everything, Ashborn” Jinwoo chokes up, his look far gone from sane now. “I tried ever fucking method in hopes that my bet would have a sliver of hope and make a break through. I always… Always considered all the possibilities that could destroy the ending that I want but for fuck’s sake I keep losing everytime.”
“You haven’t tried everything, child” Ashborn says, transforming into the image of you.
Jinwoo purses his lips, his eyes watering at the sight of you. Although it was just an illusion by his predecessor— Jinwoo still felt a strong tug in his heart that of which longs to embrace you.
“What do you mean?” Jinwoo asks, his gaze falling down. 
“Have you ever wondered why that child was immune to the potions and how you couldn’t remove their memories of you?” Ashorn hums, circling around Jinwoo. “Why do you think so?”
“....”
“Because they’re not from here” Ashborn answers immediately, catching Jinwoo off-guard.
“What?” Jinwoo glares at him.
“That child’s body doesn’t respond to your powers because they are an anomaly that shouldn’t have been in this world in the first place” Ashborn explains. “The world in which that lover of yours hails from is far different from our homeland that is tainted by meddling gods and monarchs, mana doesn't flow through that world. None of our ailments with the divine or anything else taints their homeworld.”
“So you’re saying that my biggest mistake was not figuring that out soon and I was the fool who made my lover suffer through those painful things when I could have solved it just by sending them home?” Jinwoo bitterly laughs, choking in his sobs. “...I’m so… So stupid”
“....” Ashborn chuckles, patting Jinwoo’s shoulder. “Do you want to be with them? Your beloved?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“In exchange, you will give up your throne as the shadow monarch, everything that you have with you right now including the system—” Ashborn turns to him “Are you willing to give that up.”
“Yes.”
There was silence between the two, Ashbron’s eyes would bore into Jinwoo’s as if waiting for the man to falter. 
But falter he didn’t.
“Alright” Ashborn hums. 
“I’ll be an anomaly in that world, won’t I?” Jinwoo asks.
“That would be the case if it weren’t for the fact that I am your predecessor” He muses, “My last gift to you will be me taking my place back as the shadow monarch. All of which that are yours as my heir will be returned to me.”
“Including my kids?” Jinwoo inquires.
“Naturally.”
“Then let me say farewell to them” He requests.
Ashborn merely nods, letting Jinwoo turn around.
He takes a deep breath, his deep grey eyes turning purple as for one final time he says his command, “Arise”
“I’m sorry,”— Was the first thing Jinwoo had said, bowing his head to the shadows he had grown to love. “And thank you,... For everything. For all of your services, for all of the memories you all have shown me. Even if you’re all just undead creatures I summoned for my own greedy pursuit, I thank you all for everything that you have done,... My kids.”
The shadows wail, from sadness and from joy. Their voices would mix and howl, urging Jinwoo to pursue his dream. They would miss him, yes, but they value their master’s happiness over their own selfish wishes.
They had been there, they knew how much heartache and mourning their master has gone through for that person, how much pain Jinwoo had gone through, how much he cried in those lonely nights. 
They listened to all of his screams.
And they, his shadows, his soldiers, his children,... Yearn for nothing more than to give Jinwoo the happiness he deserves.
So for a final time, they salute to Sung Jinwoo.
As the man himself fades into pieces of fleeting white petals.
For a final time, it is now farewell.
Farewell to the shadow monarch, Sung Jinwoo.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
You were admiring the pink petals falling beside your window, not noticing a pair of grey eyes lovingly admiring you from the classroom door. 
A tender gaze so full of love.
“May I?” The deep and smooth voice inquires, snapping you out of your daze and you turn.
He was handsome, pristine and upright. Perfectly carved out features as if made by divine hands. Everything about his features was absolutely symmetrical, even his gentle eyes and straight brows. Even with his puffy ebony locks— He looked so otherworldly and yet familiar at the same time
You nod and he sits down, throwing you a small smile.
“Jinwoo.” He speaks, the sound of his voice causing the tips of your heart to tremble as your stomach fluttered. “My name is Sung Jinwoo."
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ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧・゚: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
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kelstey · 10 months ago
Text
i waited
theodore nott x reader
warnings : none
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❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
theo kissed your forehead, both you bodies sticky and sweaty from the moments prior. you smiled to yourself as his muscular arms made their way around you.
"i don't think i'll ever get over how beautiful you are," theo ran his fingers through yourhair.
"thank you, theo," you turned your head and kissed his lips.
your happiness was quickly replaced by a sudden wave of what felt like guilt and shame.
the two of you had always been close, sharing kisses, looks, even touching when no oneelse would be looking. that part killed you.
no one knew. not even pansy and luna. given, luna may not be accepted by a large majority of slytherins but you couldn't help but love her, she was amazing and understood you in a way no one else did.
that's how private the two of you had decided- well improvised on. you wanted to show him off. you wanted to kiss him before class, hold hands when sat next to each other, dance in front of everyone, everything.
but he didn't want that. he liked the privacy. but you were never sure if that was really a cover for simply using you.
but you let him.
"i should get going, i'm going out with luna to the three broomsticks," you moved out of theo's arms and started picking up the clothes that were discarded all over the room after theo ripped them off of you.
"tell her i said hi," theo said, another thing that you liked about him. he liked luna. but he was partially stupid as you couldn't tell luna that he said hi, she would ask questions as to why he would even do that.
"i think you forgot we are a secret," you put your tights on.
"fuck, yeah. well- have fun then," theo waved and you hurried out, still attempting to tie your tie.
you felt the tears coming. you couldn't help it. you felt idiotic to allow theo to walk all over you. you promised yourself you would never let a man take you for a fool, but no. here you are, years later, being taken as a fool by a man you were in love with.
obviously he didn't know, he couldn't. it would ruin everything.
the two of you agreed to strictly have just sex. just sex. just stupid fucking amazing sex. he was a natural at it, he knew how to make you cum in minutes. he had you wrapped around his finger.
you typically wouldn't let anyone see or touch you, but theo? he could do anything and you would let him. it also felt like a weird bonding experience.
sex is intimate, of course. it's the closest two souls can get to each other. and you were convinced that the countless amount of times you did it in a day with him made some sort of connection.
you wiped your tears away as you entered the three broomsticks and saw luna sat alone in your usual corner. "luna!"
"you're here!" she exclaimed and got up out of her seat to hug you.
"of course, you know i love our chats here," you smiled and the two of you sat down.
"are you okay?" she asked as she observed the mascara which was evidently smudged under your eyes.
you had to tell her. you had to tell someone. there's no one you would rather tell than her. "luna, please, pinky promise me you won't ever tell a soul."
she nodded, "your secret is safe with me. you know that."
you looked around the place, only noticing two other tables of people who seemed to be in their own little worlds. "okay, me and theo have been hooking up. like friends with benefits style, but i'm in love with him. i cant keep doing this. it hurts, luna. i want to love him and kiss him around our friends but i can't."
luna sat and listened to you ramble on, a few tears shedding in the process. "that's horrible. but you must know, no man, especially one who you aren't even dating, should ever make you feel this way. the right one will make you cry only tears of happiness and pleasure, if you know what i mean."
her comment made you laugh, this was why you loved her. "thanks lu. sorry about that rant, i haven't told anyone and so feel special you're first to hear about this fucked up situation."
"i'm glad you can trust me, but i think i may have an idea," luna sat upright. "how about you stop meeting him so often? maybe start seeing him once a day; then once every few days. if you want to take it a step further you could even start hanging out with another boy more."
"luna you're a fucking genius," you reached over and hugged her.
"you know i always have the best ideas," she giggled.
just then the door opened and luna's eyes focused behind you, as your back was turned to the door.
"who is it?" you asked as you noticed her smile had dropped.
"don't turn around if you don't want to cry," she said and you immediately turned your head 180°.
"no fucking way," your jaw dropped as you saw theo walk in with cho. "is he fucking shitting me right now? luna tell me i'm dreaming. tell me."
"i'm sorry, babe. do you want to go somewhere else?" she asked.
"yes it is best we go. i don't think i'll be able to hold back a fucking fist in both their stupid faces," you both got up.
and as for your amazing luck, they both spotted you and luna. theo called out your name and walked over to you. "hey, what's up?" he asked with a stupid smile on his face as if he didn't know what he was doing.
"hey theo," luna gave a small wave and he smiled at her.
"we were just leaving," you said and took luna's hand and the two of you walked out. you heard theo say something but you were too distracted by the ringing in your ears.
"it's okay, it's okay," luna engulfed you into a very big, very needed hug.
"why would he do that? i literally told him i was going to be here with you?" you cried into her arms.
"he's a boy, they don't think with their brains, only their dicks."
-
it had been a few days since the incident and you still had not spoke to theo. you were going out of your way to ignore him, not caring if it hurt you more than him.
you would spot theo in the halls, once he noticed you, you had already turned around and walked the complete opposite way before he even got a chance to call out your name.
it hurt too much. it didn't help that after those first couple of days, he eventually stopped trying to get your attention. instead he was being all handsy with cho.
it killed you, hardly being able to speak or react. it also hurt that you had to distance yourself from the other slytherins who noticed the lack of your presence.
but it wasn't all too bad, instead of hanging with them you and luna started hanging out more. she would check up on you constantly, making sure to cheer you up to avoid you thinking about him.
she knew you were deeply upset about it. she allowed you to grieve, cry and let all of it out. she herself had never experienced this type of hurt, but she was almost grateful as she saw how badly it impacted you.
aside from not speaking to theo, you kept your head up high. you still went to class, still did your work, still sat at the slytherin table for meals. everyone noticed the tension between the two of you.
no one asked, or at least in front of your face. they decided it was better to keep quiet and try keep things as normal as could be.
amongst those few days of hurting, you started growing closer with mattheo. he was also there for you, he wasn't sure exactly what happened with theo but he knew it was hurting you and so he decided to be there for you.
he also had to admit that it was also due to the fact that he fancied you. you began sitting next to him at meals, class, even sometimes being spotted after classes walking together.
this didn't go unnoticed by theo, of course. he wanted to punch mattheo in his face. mattheo was one of theo's closest friends and to see him get close with you, it also hurt him.
it was a stupid, stupid situation. the two of you pretending to move on while both your feelings grew stronger- though a large majority of it was anger due to the fact you were not communicating.
or at least verbally communicating. whenever you looked up, no matter where you were, his eyes were the first ones to meet yours.
it was ridiculous, really. you couldn't seem to get away from him, he seemed to stalk you as if you were prey. he couldn't get you out of his mind.
-
you looked over at the clock, 2:56am. great. you couldn't seem to sleep for some reason and it was starting to annoy you. you quietly got out of bed, slipping on a random hoodie on the floor and your slippers before leaving your dorm. you knew that after 12am, no teachers or prefects would be on lookout so you didn't have to worry too much about getting caught.
you made your way up to the astronomy tower, your favourite spot to go when you were unable to sleep. you reached into your pj short pockets and retrieved the joint that you rolled earlier.
you got the lighter out and attempted to light it. of course it had to be out of fluid. you were just away to get up when you noticed theo standing behind you.
"you spooky bitch! why the fuck would you stand there like that, holy fuck bro. you better be glad i'm a teenager and not an old woman cause you would've gave me a heart attack," you scolded him as you raised a hand over your heart to relieve yourself of the pure distress he just put you through.
"calm down, darling. here's a lighter," he passed you his stainless steel lighter. the same one you carved both of your initials into. you were surprised he used it.
"you don't get to do that," you looked up at him, feeling anger flowing through your veins. theo looked at you, he seemed confused but also like he knew what was happening.
"you don't get to have cuddle me, kiss me, make love to me, everything a couple would do, and then fucking show up to a place where you knew i was at with another stupid fucking girl! do you know how long i've waited for you? years theo, fucking years! i thought it was best to keep waiting, hoping for the day that you would admit you loved me back, but you didn't. but i still waited, theo, i fucking waited. i would never do this if it was anyone else," you felt tears threatening to spill and a lump in your throat.
theo remained quiet, he looked down at his hands and played with the silver rings which decorated his stupidly pretty hands. you waited for him to say something, anything. but he didn't. once again, but were you surprised.
"have your stupid lighter back. i never should've carved our initials in it thinking we could've been something," you shoved the silver lighter into his hands before walking off.
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
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aixeko · 2 months ago
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──────‹𝟹 SINNERS SAVAGERY ༄ Ѽ✧
IF I'M YOUR SALVATION, WELCOME TO HELL.
2024 Halloween Event | Art credit: Efferwescent on Twitter
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𖤐 SINNERS SAVAGERY | or ERISETOBER  is an event that is a mix of Kinktober, Whumptober and Flufftober in a nutshell SMUT, ANGST & FLUFF with Halloween aspects. All prompts are made by me but some of the ones that inspired me are whumptober ofc, and this list. 
𖤐 ONLY HONKAI STAR RAIL AND GENSHIN WOMEN For this year
𖤐 This will be my first time doing the October prompts stuff + I have another event going on so bare with me haha.
𖤐 !! WEEK 1 starts 6 to 13 !! !! WEEK 2 starts 13 to 19 !! !! WEEK 3 starts 20 to 26 !! !! WEEK 4 starts 27 to 31 !!
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WEEK 1 | MONSTER AU | | ONESHOT
| Film | TILL DEATH DO US PART | Starring | Kafka as alien symbiote “Venom” x Host!Reader  | Synopsis | A livelihood ripped away by the greed of humankind and faced with impending doom, an alien symbiote by the name of "Kafka" entered your life and made you her host. Originally, the monstrous being harbored one goal: to destroy everything planet Earth had to offer, but plans changed upon meeting you and thus, with her power, you both do whatever it takes to save the planet. Loathing was all that was bestowed toward the extraterrestrial parasitic, but as time passes, a long-lost feeling resurfaces, one that hasn't manifested since your heartbreak; of course, you would rather be brutally killed than confess your endearment. Unbeknownst to you, the woman has suspected you of such intimacy and, with her incredible adaptability to the complex human emotion, has a ploy to make you profess those three special words.
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| Film | YOUR LORDSHIP | Starring | Yelan as Leviathan x Mortal!Reader | Synopsis |  When the tempestuous waves crash against the shore and the sky turns a foreboding grey, human shells cower in fear as the mighty lord of the seas, Leviathan, awakens from the darkest pit of the deep, seeking for a human companion to aid her lonely voyage.
WEEK 2 | MYTHOLOGICAL AU | | ONESHOT
| Film | BEYOND THE IMAGINABLE | Starring | Clorinde as Medusa x Blind!Reader | Synopsis | Despised and misunderstood by the world, she was a victim of a scandalous man's wrongdoing, unfairly punished by heaven despite her innocence. During one fortunate day, the woman whose heart had turned to stone melt under the accursed spell of love, wholly captivated by a blind mortal who fell in love with her for who she truly was; even without sight, the virtuous human saw the very essence of her, the beauty within her soul.
| Film | OFFERING OF PURITY | Starring | Raiden Ei as Hades x Mortal!Reader | Synopsis | The townsfolk tell tales of a legend that speaks of how, once in a century, the moon would adorn itself in a deep crimson hue and illuminate its shade onto the world. Under its wrathful light, the god of hell emerges to wreak havoc, and the only way to banish such evil is to offer a youthful virgin mortal; only then will humankind live in another century of prosperity and peace.
WEEK 3 | ANIMATRONICS AU | | SMUTSHOT
| Film | FIVE NIGHTS AT STAR RAIL | Starring | Kafka, Himeko, Blackswan, and Acheron as the FNAF Classic Animatronics x Night-guard!Reader | Synopsis | A newspaper arrives at your doorstep, featuring a job opening for a night guard position at the famous Star Rail Pizzeria. Struggling financially, you quickly seize the golden opportunity. The job's only requirement is 5 nights of work, and if you succeed, you'll be hired as an official employee; what could possibly go wrong?
WEEK 4 | SLASHER/SERIAL KILLER AU
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| Film | MINDFUCK | Starring | Slasher!Arlecchino x Investigative-Psychologist!Reader | Synopsis | Demons linger where shadows play; in silence, hearts betray, whispers echo, and desires catch fire in the haunting depths of the night. With every kiss, a scythe may cut, in which terror envelops one's gut; together they dance on the edge of fate, finding beauty in a love that is too late. So let the night weave its spell, for in the dark they know so well, and though demons are whispering fright, in their twilight, the lights are ignited.
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popamolly · 9 months ago
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‘ INTERNAL REDEMPTION ’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR
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summary. In the fiery depths, she captures the attention of Lucifer, who senses a unique purity in her soul. With his help, (Y/N) finds herself on the path to redemption and self-discovery with dangerous trouble along the way.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE
warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, she/her pronouns, valentino exists, eventual smut, mention of death, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder
author’s note. inspired by @punching-pentagrams and their amazing ongoing story “Love In as Hopeless Place”, it encouraged me to write my own fic about Lucifer. go check out their story, it is so good and deserves more love!
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In the dimly lit, pulsating world of Club Elysium, where the air was thick with anticipation and desire, a mysterious aura surrounded a captivating figure on the stage. Under the flickering neon lights, you moved with a mesmerizing grace that defied the earthly realm. Dressed in glistening attire that caught the reflections of the vibrant hues around her, you became an ethereal presence, drawing the attention of every gaze in the room.
Your movements were a dance of contradictions – an alluring blend of sensuality and innocence. You twirled and swayed to the rhythm of the music, casting a spell upon the enchanted audience.
Unbeknownst to the patrons of Club Elysium, you were more than just an exotic dancer seeking to enthrall with her physical prowess. Your celestial grace, forgotten in the afterlife coil she now inhabited, manifested in the subtle elegance of her performance. As you moved, you felt a distant echo of a certain purpose, an inexplicable connection to something beyond the neon-lit stage.
In the hazy ambiance, Valentino, the enigmatic owner of Club Elysium, watched from the shadows, his eyes reflecting one of red burning lust, but it was more than just lust for you— no, it was something more— it was a thirst for power that had him grinning from ear to ear. Valentino knew that in this corner of Hell he owned everything, even you.
As the music reached its crescendo, your dance reached its zenith. The room held its breath, suspended in a moment where hell and celestial intertwined. You were always the ballerina in the jelwery box, the beautiful antique that Valentino had in his grasp to show off and praise. Though he may own you outside the building you made sure to show him through your dancing, that you were the one that owned the stage. He hated when you went off script or changed the choreography but you made sure to do it on purpose and on nights you knew he was watching you.
That was your little dose of rebellion, a little taste of freedom you could only wish to have. You were content with your situation though, it could’ve been worse. At least with Valentino you were paid, clothed, and feed with an overall decent place to live. Being one of his toys had its perks— you couldn’t complain. Especially when there were those who had it so much worse than you.
“You jus’ love angerin’ him, don’t you doll?” Your coworker, Angel Dust, asked as you entered the dressing room that you and the other dancers shared. The smell of makeup and cheap perfume filled your senses, calming you with the sense of familiarity, “Cause last I checked, that wasn’t what we rehearsed.”
“Well,” You chuckled as you sat on the couch, its fabric ripped and white stuffing nearly popping out the sides, “I just thought that my choreo was better, and by the sound of that crowd and the money on stage, it was.”
“Heh,” Angel couldn’t help but envy your confidence when it came to Valentino, who owned you both in more ways than one and yet you always found a way to yank on the chains without consequence. A part of Angel loathed you for it.
You could sense the mood shift in Angel, not that you cared but you weren’t exactly heartless either. With a sigh, you get up from the couch, ignoring your aching feet as you join Angel’s side, looking into the vanity mirror so you could touch up your makeup, “Trust me, if my act wasn’t purity and innocence it would be a different story. Lucky for me, bruises and marks on my body wouldn’t sell too well.”
“Yeah, count it on luck shortcake.” With that Angel left, pushing another girl out the way angrily while snatching the drink out her hand. You could only sigh, not intending on upsetting him more but as always, your intentions don’t matter when your words spoke otherwise. It had been so long since you had a decent human connection, you were just a bit rusty.
“My sweets,” The sudden sound of Valentino’s voice had the room go silent, the air becoming so thick you were sure you’d might suffocate in it, “Can I have the room please?”
With hushed scared whispers and nervous glances, you and the other girls make your way to the door. You had hoped you could sneak past him under the cover of the other women who all but rushed passed Valentino but his slender hand caught your forearm quick, gripping it with such force that you were slightly shocked by the pain he caused— it wasn’t like him to be rough with you, “Not you, darling. We have to have a chat, don’t we mio caro?”
You turn to look at him with a frown, “About what? My performance?”
“Oh I would love to talk about that little stunt you pulled but I need you for something a bit more important,” Valentino yanks you further into the room, locking the door behind him with his other hand before slinging you against the vanity, bottles of perfume falling over and onto the ground as the desk shakes violently. Your employer towers over you with ease making you shudder beneath his fiery gaze, “I need something done and I need it done right, I trust that you can accomplish this task, yes?”
What shit was he getting you into now? You were done with porn, you had paid a hefty price to alter your contract with him and you weren’t going to slip back into the void now, not when you were so far ahead, “I won’t be one of your pornstars, Val. We had a deal.”
Valentino laughs, his pointy fingernail dragging along your cheek while he licks his lips, “This isn’t about that principessa, this is a more delicate matter. Think you’re up for it?”
“I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You yank your head away from his hands, lowering your gaze into a slight glare.
“This is why I always liked you, dove. You learn quick.”
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“If you were going to tell me to send in a whore Val, I wouldv’e just asked you to send Angel Dust!” Vox glitched with anger, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he turned around in his chair, his claw like hands gripping onto the table with such force that it left a mark, “What makes this slut is any different from him?!”
It was hard to bite back your tongue but you did, unwillingly submitting to your role as you stood before the V’s with your eyes to the ground, not daring to even look as confident at you usually were. Not because you were scared of them, no, you were scared of embarrassing Valentino. Your boss might have forgiven you for your countless stunts but when it came to matters of business with the V’s, you knew your place.
“Angel dust thinks he is on this path to redemption, let him stay in his delusion but until I can break him fully he will never be loyal to me. Not as loyal as (Y/N) here…” Valentino wraps his hand around your neck, forcing your head up to look at Vox— who for a split second was taken back by your beauty, “I have broken (Y/N) time and time again, she would do anything for me, isn’t that right (Y/N)?”
You closed your eyes, “Yes, Valentino.”
“Good.” Valentino pushes you toward Vox, making you stumble into him, forcing him to catch you in his arms, “Quite the vixen, she would surely catch the eyes of any overlord.”
“Even the King of Hell himself?” Vox tips your chin up with his index finger, looking into your eyes with a devilishly grin that makes you shiver.
“Asmodeus throws the biggest parties in the Pride Ring that is filled with all kinds of debauchery, especially for his birthday.” Valentino explains, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his right leg over the other, exhaling out a long drag of pink smoke, “Every one of importance will be there since it isn’t just a party but a show of status.”
“And..what? Your pretty toy is just supposed to waltz in there and get the attention of any overlord that wants to fuck her?” Velvette finally tears her gaze away from her phone, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Well it is an important party of one of Lucifer’s friends—”
“Which means he is bound to be there.” Vox grins, “Get close to the king and we get closer to controlling Hell.”
“And what makes you so sure he’ll entertain such..” Velvette looks at you with a roll of her eyes, “From what I hear Lucifer is loyal to Lilith, no one has seen him with another woman on his arm and it’s been 7 years, hashtag faithful.”
“Ah, well, 7 years is a long time to go without intimacy…I say the man is touch starved and would like some attention.” Valentino says, “Anyone can still get lonely, no matter how faithful.”
“I like the way you think Val,” Vox grips your chin as you grit your teeth. “And I think your little whore here will do just nicely.”
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Before you know it was the day of Asmodeus’ birthday party. The V’s gave you the run down of the plan and how you were supposed to get close to the King of Hell himself— who you haven’t even seen in person for as long as you been hell. Which was a few years by now. You were a simple lowlife, you kept to yourself and tried to survive, only to end up within his grasp. Was he as cruel as people say? ‘What sort of question is that? Of course he was! He was the King of fucking Hell, which last time you checked, wasn’t given to just anyone.’
Of all the people, of everyone in Hell, it just has to be you. Because of your cursed deal with Val, you were stuck in a continuous limbo that you couldn’t escape from. Damn you and your loyalty, damn it all if it will end up with you dead ( again ) on the steps of Lucifer’s palace. This wasn’t fair— but then again, when has your situation ever been fair?
“Oh, you look just like a doll.” Valentino ruffled with the fake angel wings that adorned your back, fixing and prodding with whatever to make you more presentable, “Like an angel. Hell, upon just a glance mio caro you might have been able to get away with actually being one.”
And as you glance at your reflection in the mirror you felt a sudden sharp pain in the center of your forehead. Only fragments of memories came flooding your mind like a crashing wave. It was all so blurry but the word Angel held some sort of weight on you but you couldn’t place exactly what.
You held onto your head, trying to steady your breathing and relaxing your nerves as Valentino continues to add the finishing touches to your look.
“Get it together, dove.” Valentino meets your gaze in the reflection, “I hope you won’t disappoint me.”
“No..” The pain in your head quickly fades away as soon as it came, “I can do this.”
“Good, because it is just about your turn to be presented for the auction.”
The auction. Asmodeus does it for sport at every single one of his parties but now that this is his birthday party, this auction is the biggest one yet. It is where he finds Hell’s most beautiful prized possessions, not limiting to actual sinners. The hope was to capture Lucifer’s attention as he would be in the crowd through this angel facade, and pray that he would bet on you. And if that didn’t work, then you would have to move on to plan B. And you didn’t like plan b.
Valentino wished you luck as you stood behind the curtain to the center stage, disappearing into the shadows to leave you on your own and this mission that was screwed from the get go.
“And last but not least, I present to you—! what is the object’s name again?” The announcer whispers, putting his microphone away from his face to get a confirmation from another employee, “Ah! The pure and innocent, (Y/N)!”
The curtain suddenly opens, the spotlight from above blinding you in away that made you shield your eyes from the brightness. You squint, looking upon a sea of red lustful eyes looking over your figure with curiosity. You take a deep breath, as you played the part of a shy girl, slowly bringing your hands to cover yourself even though the white thin laced gown left little to the imagination.
“Hubba hubba! Would you look at that boys?” Asmodeus’ eyes nearly turn into hearts at the sight of you, “And I thought nothing could even look so angelic in Hell!”
“What a beaut’” Mammon agrees.
“Indeed.” Lucifer sat beside his friends, trying to cover his boredom with peaked interest as he looks in your direction. This whole thing was pretty fucked up to him but that was just the way of life down here, there’s no changing that— no changing people when it is just in their nature. Now usually he wouldn’t indulge such things but he was the King of Hell, and he had to play the part to maintain order even though he longed for nothing but to be constructing rubber ducks right now.
“500!” A man in the crowd closer to the stage shouts.
The announcer points in the man’s direction with enthusiasm, “I hear 500! What about 550? Do I hear 550?”
“600!” Another shouts.
“600 to the gentleman in red! But do I hear a 650? 650?”
Asmodeus sits back in his seat, taking another swig of his whiskey. Mammon looks at his friend in disbelief as the unknown sinners below them begin to shout various of numbers for you, “Is she not to the Lustful Overlords taste?”
“Ah, I have so many who do the innocent act. It gets boring after awhile. But if you’re interested…you should buy her.” Asmodeus smirks, shaking the single ice cube in his glass as he signals to the waitress for another.
“She ain’t my type, but—” Mammon gets a sudden idea, “Lucifer should have her. I’m sure he gets off to the Angel shit don’t you your highness?”
Lucifer tips his hat up with his cane, “I am married.”
“To a woman who you haven’t seen in seven years!” Asmodeus rolls his eyes with a loud groan before raising his hand to join the bid, “Lighten up! Good sir, I say 2500!”
“What a doozy! 2500! 2500! Do I hear 3000!?” The announcer nearly jumps from his stool at the amount offered, “Going once! Going twice—!”
“Asmodeus.” Lucifer warned. Not wanting any part in this sinful behavior.
The sound of a gavel rang through the air, finalizing the amount, “And sold to the gentleman in VIP! Your prize will wait outback until you are ready to retrieve it! Enjoy!”
Just like that the plan was working. In just less than five minutes you were sold off like some prize. Your life being in yet another’s hands that wasn’t your own, it was a bit ironic since this life is almost just the same as the one you led on Earth. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish which one was truly Hell.
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.
Be sure to leave a comment & let me know if you want to added to the tag list for this story so you’re updated whenever I drop a new chapter! xo
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readychilledwine · 4 months ago
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Crush
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Summary - Deciding to take a yoga class may have been the best decision you've ever made
Warnings - plus size reader, discussions of gym culture and health
A/n - fic 3 for @cassianappreciationweek day 7! We get NSFW from here 💕
🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡
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The clang of weights was almost as annoying as the front desk girl staring at you. You hated gyms, hated the judgment that came with walking into one, hated the way people stared at you as if you weren't the ideal person to actually be at a place for improving yourself. 
“Look,” you interrupted her politely, “I am fully aware I am paying more to take this class because I don't have a membership. Considering I'm just trying out this fitness thing, not really interested in spending $100 a month just then also pay $80 for the one class I'm interested in taking.” Her smiled dropped slightly as she just nodded and took your card, finishing your sign up for the yoga course you and 3 of your closest friends were trying. 
You knew she was just trying to meet her numbers, but it was something from gym culture you hated. The constant pushing to join their cult and have access to “everything” instead of just being able to pay for the classes you were interested in was crazy to you. The way gym culture pushed looking a certain way to be considered healthy and attractive also bothered you greatly. 
Health had to do with more than just the numbers on the scales. It had to do with your mind, your soul, and that was what you were here to work. Your mind and soul, and if you happened to gain some muscle strength from yoga, that was just an added bonus. You were all wanting to try yoga as a form of stress relief, relaxation, and self care.  No pressure, no expectations, just fun. 
The four of you were all laughing as you headed into the gym, not even bothering to stop and look at anyone or anything going on. In your mind, it was just a scene you'd watched hundreds of times. Ripped men showing off their muscles, gym girls vlogging their “workouts” in outfits you never would be caught wearing. You were here for you, not for the show someone thought they could put on for you.
Cassian was in a squat rack, watching you through the mirror as he stood with weights resting on his wide shoulders. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Every curve, every strand of hair. You were perfect in his eyes. Rhys followed his glance before grinning, “That's my assistant. Y/n!” 
You glanced up, instantly waving at Rhys and he waved back. He motioned for you to come over, “Hello, darling. What brings you here?”
“Yoga,” you shrugged. “Trying it for stress relief. Mean boss and all!” 
Rhysand laughed at your response, eyes sparkling, “You brought water?” You nodded to him. “Good, that room gets way too hot. I admire the yoga classes, but I can't do it. Oh! By the way,” he motioned to Cassian, “this is my brother, Cassian. You know Az from security.”
And that's when it began.
Two months. Two long months of you and Cassian trading no more than your names, smiles, and slightly flirtatious banter and digs at each other when you would cross paths at the water fountain. 
Today was his day, though. Today he'd finally ask if you wanted him to help you workout, and if you said no, he'd offer dinner instead. Rhys had been forced into telling him every detail of your life. He knew your favorite color, food, how you took coffee. He felt like he knew about you, but now he truly needed to know you.
He needed more than glances that left you blushing. Needed more than you making him go home and spend his night staring at the ceiling in his empty bed wondering if you liked him the way he liked you.
Today was his day. He knew it as he kept glancing at you.
Two months had sucked you into your own version of gym culture, and while your goal was still more the stress relief, you had to admit it was fun watching your booty get even better. You had to also admit deep down that you had other reasons for coming to the gym outside of yoga class, though. That reason was 6’5”, dark curly hair, swirling tribal tattoos, and looking oh so delicious in his black shorts today.
You reminded yourself you were mainly here to focus on you. To get yourself into your head space and earn the snacks waiting for you at home, and zeroed in on the goal of reaching 10,000 stairs by the end of the week.
You were deep into your workout and in your own world when Cassian approached, admiring each jiggle not so secretly, “So y/n.”
“MOTHER F-” you cover your mouth, slapping the emergency stop button and feeling his hand instantly stabilizing you by touching your back. “You scared me!”
“I can tell,” he chuckled back. “I was just wondering if you wanted to try free weights with me today? I spot you? Teach you some stuff?”
I blinked at him, “Really?” He nodded almost boyishly, a playful grin on his face. “I can't spot you, though.”
He motioned over her shoulder to your boss and Azriel, “They exist still. Unfortunately.”
You bit your lip, knowing you'd look so out of place beside the 3 of them. “Cassian, I don't really work out to be-”
“You work out to take care of stress and eat whatever snacks you want. I know. Rhys told me. You'll get tired of cardio soon, so learning another area wouldn't hurt.”
You glared towards Rhys, “Traitor.”
“Is that a yes?”
You sighed and nodded, wiping down the handles of the machine you were on before letting him pull you over to Rhys and Azriel.
One workout became two. Two became twice a week. Twice a week became him coming over and enjoying snacks and a movie. Snacks and movie became dinner with Cassian at an expensive restaurant with Rhys, his wife, Feyre, Azriel, and his possibly girlfriend, Nesta. 
The table was silent as Cassian ordered a fairly unhealthy pasta, ate bread with you, and then shared dessert. It had been so long since they watched him genuinely enjoy food. “Cheat day,” he said casually as Azriel raised a brow at him. “I'm trying to mix y/n's work out to eat what she wants into my lifestyle once a week.” 
“He seems to like our snack and movie nights,” you glanced up at him, to you just admiring the way he smiled. But to the rest of the table, it was clear the gym crush you two shared was becoming much much more. Azriel slipped Rhys money under the table, conceding that he had won the bet. 
“Y/n told me a lot of research shows a cheat day is actually better for you than 7 hard days,” Cassian took another bite of the melted chocolate fudge brownie. “So we have a cheat day now on Sunday. We call it Sinday.”
“We still do a light walk,” you offered as Rhys looked confused. “But more of a “find some wilderness and explore walk than follow this beaten path one.” That dinner turned into many more. It turned into meeting each other's families. To merging friend groups. 
No activity you two tried topped the gym together. Especially after Cassian built and began running his own. His gym was built to cater to those who'd never felt welcomed. One way windows so the people inside could look out, but no one would see in. A mirror room dedicated to progress selfies to stop people from capturing a stranger in their pictures, a strict no bullying policy. He had made a safe haven for those who were serious about their workouts, and those who were just starting, and you could not have been more proud, especially now that you were teaching yoga and hot yoga classes there.
You two posed in the mirror, sweat dripping down him as he flexed and you kissed his cheek with your leg popped up, waiting for the camera to click breaking the no selfies on the main workout floor rule.
“Gross,” Azriel yelled. “Focus on training you two!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cassian shot back. “I'm coming. Enjoy yoga, baby.”
“I will. Snacks tonight?”
“Absolutely,” he answered. “Those little no bake cookie balls would be so good."
"Oh, yeah. We'll pick those up!"
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f
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seungfl0wer · 5 months ago
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*I’ll do anything* P.2
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Part Title: Warmth
Paring: Minho x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Smut/Angst/Fluff
Warnings: Mafia!Au, Mentions of Pew Pews, Mentions of not eating, unprotected sex, Creampie, outside sex kinda. This was proof read but I re-uploaded it so it’s not anymore
Series Master List
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-🩵
A few days had passed since moving to Minhos place. Things have been very quiet. Minho hasn’t been home very much only coming home late at night. When you do see a glimpse of him in the morning he honestly looks rough. He looks very drained like work has been kicking his ass. Which duh it probably quite literally has. I mean you wash his clothes you see the blood stains on his shirts.
You were doing your nightly routine of cooking dinner for the man in question before hearing a knock at the door. Your heart jumped slowly making your way to look through the peep hole. It was Minho being carried by a muscular man. He knocked again your hand shook as you went to open the door. You opened it to let him in, he walked him to the couch placing him gently down. He looked at you quickly looking you up and down “you must be y/n hmm?” He said his eyes studying you.
You nod looking down at Minho who was all bloodied up. His beautiful plump lips swollen, nose bloodied and his shirt ripped. You looked back up at the other man standing there “he’ll be alright we had the doctor check him over.” He said seeing your worried face. “I’m changbin by the way, I’ve known Minho for well over 10 years.” He said patting the back of him. “He may need help in the shower though, definitely needs one.” He said moving his hand over his nose acting like he stank. He let out a soft chuckle “just be careful with his shoulder though one of the bullets did graze him.”
Changbin made his way towards the door “take good care of him ok? He might act all big and bad but he’s a good guy.” He said with a smile. You nodded smiling back at him “if you need anything here’s my number.” He said handing you a card, you went to grab it the two of you making eye contact. He was staring what felt like straight to your soul, he let out a deep sigh before letting the card go. “Man does he know how to pick the pretty ones” he said turning around “I’m just happy he finally got someone after his last psycho honestly.” He said waving good bye walking out the door.
As much as you wanted to go after him and ask him a million questions you made your way back to the man slouched on the couch. He squinted at you trying to get up he felt embarrassed letting you see him like this, All beat up and tattered. As he tried getting up you quickly grabbed his arm helping him stand. “How about I run you a nice warm bath?” You said leading him to the bathroom. You sat him down on the toilet running him a look warm bath before turning to him.
Shit. You had to get him naked. You didn’t think this through. Would he be mad at you? You asked yourself “y/n if you’re uncomfortable you don’t-“ he slurred his words before you cut him off “no it’s fine- I just didn’t want you to be mad or anything.” You said softly. He shook his head “I don’t mind.” He said slowly trying to take his torn shirt off. You quickly helped him out of his clothes. Trying to keep your eyes on anywhere but his upper body. God was it hard though. You felt like a pervert ogling him like you were but you’ve never seen a man so perfect before.
Everything about him just looked perfect, his body, his arms, the few tattoos he had and- and how well off he was below. You felt your cheeks heat up as Minho got up his naked body inches away from you “y/n” he said in almost a whisper making you look up at him. His eyes were dark staring at you with love? Lust? You couldn’t tell. You replied with a simple hmm while you stared back at him “thank you” he said his voice barely audible now. He himself to sit in the bath as he let the water wash over him.
“Feels good” he said letting himself sink into the bath. You let him relax for a bit before grabbing the shampoo washing his hair for him. He let out almost purrs of happiness at the feeling his eyes closed. You rinsed his hair for him now grabbing a rag to wipe the dry blood from his face. He grabbed your hand looking up at you, you were so close to his face. “It takes everything in me not to just kiss you.” He said again in the most softest voice you could barely hear. You stayed like that for what felt like hours before he stood up.
“I feel a lot better now.” He said as he washed off the rest of his body. You just kinda stared at him in awe. He chucked a bit looking at you “keep staring at me like that I’ll think you want me.” He said teasingly. Your face went red turning away “If you need anymore help yell I’m gonna finish dinner.” You said walking out of the bathroom. Minho had a huge smirk on his face. Thinking of something he was gonna put into action.
He walked behind you while you were cooking leaning himself behind you like he had before “y/n” he cooed into your ear. “Remember how you said you’d do anything to help?” He said pressing his body against you and then you felt it. He hasn’t even gotten dressed he was in only his robe. Your face grew hot feeling every inch of the man against you. You could feel yourself becoming turned on your core almost aching. You didn’t realize you hadn’t answered when Minho asked “is that a yes or no.”
He had himself positioned perfectly against you. His bulge pressing so nicely on the outline of your ass. He slowly moved his hips against you, you bitting your lip all you could do is nod. “Good” he said placing his hand on your hip pulling your body closer to his “why don’t we eat and then maybe we have some fun after?” His voice was full of lust you could feel how hard he was against you it made your body hot, you felt like had caught fire.
You couldn’t even muster out a word your head spinning at everything “answer me kitten” he said voice almost a hum. You nod yes before the man was spinning you around to look at him “use your words” he said hand coming up to cup your face “ok” you stuttered out making him raise a brow. “Just ok?” He studied your face. He not use to someone being like this with him. Most women throw themselves at him and here you were being all shy and reserved. His eyes looked over your face “I’m not gonna force you. I might be a criminal to most but I’d never force myself on anyone.” He said pulling away from you.
You don’t know what had come over you your hands moved pulling him close to you “i- it’s not that I don’t want to- I mean who wouldn’t want to with you.” You rambled “it’s just- you’re still hurt and haven’t probably eaten and I- I just wanna make sure you’re ok.” Your voice growing softer after every word until it sounded almost like a whisper.
“Y/n.” He was honestly in shock at your words “why do you even care?” He asked his voice meeting yours at a whisper “you’re just doing this for money, why do you care if I’m hurt.” He choked out. His chest became almost tight feeling all types of emotion. “Because, you could have turned me away, could have killed me and not even be fazed but you’ve helped me.. more than you probably know..” your words faded off.
He wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him you both stayed there in each other’s embrace for a few minutes before he pulled away. He smiled a bit looking at you “listen kitten I’ll never be to hurt to have a good time with you.” He joked “but let’s eat” he said as he grabbed you two a drink. You made him a plate placing it in front of him as you started to clean up the kitchen. “Sweetheart the kitchen can wait sit and eat with me.” He said looking over at you.
“I’m ok I’m not really hungry” you lied. Truth be told you haven’t really eaten anything since being here. You felt bad for eating his food so you snacked on the small bit of food you still had from your house. “When’s the last time you actually ate” his voice stern almost “and don’t you lie to me” he said in the same deep voice. You felt air catching in your throat a lump not letting you speak “I don’t know” you hiccuped out it was soft barely audible.
“Excuse me?” He said his voice sounding almost angry? No not angry more upset? “Look at me.” He demanded. You slowly turned looking at the floor head slowling looking up at him. “Why haven’t you been eating? You make the food for Christ sake!” He said his words coming out louder than he expected. Your heart was beating fast, you could almost feel tears pricking at your eyes before he said softly “you need to eat you’ll get sick and I don’t want to see you hurt.” He said eyes locking with yours “I just- didn’t wanna eat your-“ he cut you off “y/n this is your home now too, yeah the circumstances aren’t quote on quote normal but still” he said getting up.
He motioned for you to sit as he made another place for you “eat please” he said placing the food in front of you “and make sure you continue to do so.” He said waiting for you to take a bite “make a list and we’ll go shopping for stuff you like.” He said signing. He watched you pick up the food slowly eating it. “I can’t believe you” he let out a chuckle. “What am I gonna do with you.” He said the chuckle becoming louder.
You both sat there eating dinner together before you get up to take the dishes dropping them into the sink. You were about to start them before you felt Minhos hand on yours. “Come with me.” He said he guided you to a side door bringing you out to the garden he had. He brought you to a small spot he had a big pillow at. He smiled as he pulled you down with him on the pillow.
“This is one of my little safe spaces.” He says while staring up at the night sky. You turn looking over at the man his eyes sparking just like the stars painted in the sky. You curled up into his arms as you both laid there. Your hand rested on his thigh then you remembered he was still in his robe. You swore at the touch of your hand you could see a pink creep on his cheeks.
Your hand rubbed his thigh half not meaning it in anyway the other half wanting him to just take you there. He hummed at the feeling your hand inching closer and closer to his unclothed cock. Minho left out a soft groan at the feeling. “Y/n” he said his voice low “don’t start something you can’t finish” he teased. “If- if I happen to want to start something will you be ok?” You questioned.
His body warmed at the question there you go again making sure he was ok with it. He lifted your head staring into your eyes “I’ll be fine.” He said lips dancing close to yours “are you ok with it?” He asked wanting to make sure you were comfortable. You nod yes looking at him getting lost in his eyes. “Words kitten” he said this time placing a soft kiss to your lips. “Y-yes” you said eyes fluttering at the feeling of how soft his lips still were even after being hurt. His eyes squinted “yes what?” Your head tilts a bit remembering you agreed to only call him sir. “Y-yes sir” you stuttered. He got a smug smirk plastered on his face “you’ve been forgetting that haven’t you kitten?”
“I’m sorry sir” you said softly “it’s ok for now, I’ll punish you later for it.” He said biting the bottom of your lip before pulling it. “I want this to be loving more than lust” his voice faded before continuing “tell me if I’m hurting you or you want me to stop.” He said waiting for you to answer as you nodded yes that’s all he needed before kissing you passionately. The feeling he had for you was so strong almost like you both had known each other for years.
His hand quickly found the hem of your pants, his hand diving in feeling how wet you were already from him. You slipped two fingers into you curling them as he moved them sloppily. His kisses following suit, sucking your tongue. You let out the sweetest noises making him groan in return “fuck you sound so pretty” he cooed as he moved his hand fast his thumb circling your clit. You moved your own hand to grip around has throbbing cock moving is slowly. He let out almost what sounded like a whimper at the feeling of you touching him.
“Y/n” he said between kisses “I can normally last but- I really don’t think I’ll be able to right now… it’s been awhile and you just..” he admitted with a sigh “I need to feel you.” He said moving to be on top of you his eyes searched your face for a protest “kitten” he choked out “I’m all yours remember?” And that’s all he needed he tossed your pants off before pushing himself into you. The sinful noise that filled the air from the sound of skin smacking to the noises you both were making.
Minho latched himself to your neck sucking it hard you digging your nails into his back. His hand came up to play with your clit as he fucked deep into you. Everything that was happening felt like a dream. A wet dream but a dream at that. The beautiful man was moaning into your neck letting out curse words as you clenched around him “sir!” You moaned loudly Minho groaning “y/n- say- say my name please. I wanna hear you say my name while you cum on my cock.” He said his words jumbled together.
He pumped faster into you his hand racking your bud as he drove you both your highs. You almost screamed out his name as you came. You could feel his cock twitching inside you “where” he said quickly feeling himself about to release “in-“ you stuttered as he unloaded himself deep inside you. His body shaked as he tried to catch his breath. He looked down at you kissing you softly before laying his body next to you. He pulled you close to him, rubbing your back. He looked like he was in deep thought.
You looked up at him catching a smile creep across his face “do you just charm your way into everyone’s heart so easily?” He asked looking down at you. When you didn’t respond he just smiled “you know it’s honestly hard to crack my ice heart but since I’ve met you your warmth has thawed it a lot.” He said now staring at the stars. “I really wanted to just make you my slave and be how I am to others. But you just- dig those claws into me.” He rambled on.
“What I’m trying to get at is I was prepared to just be an asshole to you like I am to everyone else because it’s easier with this job however seemed like you had other plans even if you didn’t mean too.” He said looking back at you. “Just know though, I’ve been fucked over really bad before so I still might need some warming up in some aspect. But I’ll fight the world for you y/n you have my word on that.” He said kissing you softly.
The big bad mafia boss was spilling all the sweet honey from himself for you. The little bear eating it up every second. Your mind was still in shock at how things were going his kiss bringing you back to reality. “Let’s get cleaned up and head to bed yeah?” He said stretching “let’s have a date tomorrow, we can stop by the hospital to see how your bother is.” He said smiling meeting yours that crept across your face. You both walked in taking a quick shower Minho took your hand looking at you “mine or yours?” He asked.
“Whichever” you answered back just wanted to lay in bed “we’ll go to yours.” He said walking into your room greeted by your cat who stretched as he saw you come in. You both crawled into bed cuddled up to one another. Your cat finding a spot between you both, Minho let out a happy sigh. “This is the warmth I’m taking about” he said softly as he kissed you before you both drifted to sleep. A long whirlwind of a night coming to a perfect ending.
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
Tagglist: @linoxii , @scuzmunkie
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novaursa · 3 months ago
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Aemond's Lament
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- Summary: Aemond faces Daemon above the God's Eye, for you.
- Paring: sister!reader/Aemond Targaryen
- Note: I wanted to write something short and heart-wrenching, because I'm a tragic person. It's inspired by Bear McCreary's song.
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Word count: 1 100+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
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The sky above the God’s Eye is painted in shades of dusk and fire. The crimson dragon Caraxes cuts through the darkening heavens, and below, the still waters of the lake ripple beneath the thrumming beat of Vhagar's wings. Aemond Targaryen, his one good eye fixed on the sky, does not see the beauty of the scene. His heart is a hollow shell, echoing with the loss of everything that mattered.
His thoughts are not on the battle, nor on the death that looms close with each heartbeat. Instead, his mind is consumed by a single name, a single face. Y/N, his sweet sister, slain by Daemon's hand. She had been the light in a life filled with shadows, the warmth in the cold halls of the Red Keep. Now she lay beneath the earth, lost to him forever.
Alone, she sleeps in the shirt of a man…
The words sing in his mind, a haunting melody of sorrow and regret. His three wishes had been simple once, whispered to the gods in the dead of night. The first, that she be spared the pain of this world—the treachery, the blood, the horror of their family's war. Aemond had wanted nothing more than to shield her from it all, to see her smile remain untouched by the darkness that surrounded them.
But his wish had failed. She had known pain, known the fury of battle, the terror of seeing her beloved dragon, Silverwing, torn from the skies by the very man who now circled above Aemond like a vulture over a dying beast.
With my three wishes clutched in her hand…
His second wish, oh, how he had longed for it—for her to know love, true and pure, the kind he could never give her as her brother. He had wanted to see her cherished, but jealousy had burned in his chest whenever he imagined her with another. Still, he had wished it, even if it was a lie. Because how could she have ever loved another? Not when he had been there, watching over her with eyes that lingered too long, thoughts that strayed too far from what a brother should feel.
The love he felt for her had been a curse and a blessing all at once. A poison that had seeped into his veins, twisting his soul with desires that no man should harbor for his blood. He had never spoken of it, never dared, but it had been there, a constant ache that only deepened as the years passed.
When she finds love may it always stay true…
His second wish had been for her happiness, but what did happiness matter when her life had been taken from her? Daemon had stolen her from him, ripped her from the world like a cruel joke. The bastard had known what her death would do to Aemond, had done it with glee, had smiled that dark, laughing smile as Y/N and Silverwing fell.
Aemond’s fingers tightened on Vhagar’s reins, the knuckles white with fury. The rage that burned in his chest now was all that kept him moving. His sister, his sweet, beautiful sister, was gone. Her laughter, her soft voice, her teasing smiles—all gone. And he had not been there to protect her.
Daemon had known that killing her would be the only way to draw Aemond out from Harrenhal. It had worked. Aemond would not have stayed hiding behind stone walls while his sister’s death went unanswered. He had come, with Vhagar’s fire in his heart and vengeance burning brighter than the flames.
But wish no more…
The final wish had been the cruelest of all. He would have given anything—everything—to have her back. He would have traded his life, his soul, the entirety of the realm, just for one day. One day to hear her voice again, to see her eyes open, to feel her hand in his. One day to tell her what he could never say.
My life you can take…
He would have done anything. But wishes were for the weak, and gods did not listen to the cries of the damned. Aemond knew that now. There would be no waking her from the sleep of death. No return from the dark depths where her soul had gone. His wishes had been empty, hollow pleas to a world that cared not for love or grief.
To have her please just one day wake…
Daemon circled above, his dragon screeching in anticipation. The Prince of the City, the Rogue Prince, had been the cause of all of Aemond’s misery. This was not just about the war, the throne, or the realm. This was personal. This was vengeance. Aemond could see it in Daemon’s eyes as he descended lower, closer. There was nothing but hatred between them now.
“Come down and face me, coward,” Aemond snarled, his voice raw with fury. His eye glowed with the fire of vengeance, the urge to kill. “You took her from me!”
Daemon's laughter echoed through the skies, a cold, mocking sound. "I took what was always meant to be mine, boy."
The words ignited a deeper rage in Aemond, a fire that threatened to consume him. His hand reached for his sword, the weight of Dark Sister on his back a grim reminder that death was near.
"You will die for her," Aemond growled, urging Vhagar higher. "You will burn."
Daemon's smile was cold as ice, his own sword glinting in the dying light. "We shall see, nephew."
And then the battle began.
Caraxes dove with the grace of a serpent, his claws outstretched, and Vhagar answered with the fury of a storm. The dragons collided in the sky, their roars splitting the heavens, and below, the waters of the God’s Eye churned as if in fear of the blood about to be spilled.
Aemond fought with all the strength he had left, but his heart was not in the battle. His mind was with Y/N, his sister, his love. He could almost hear her voice, soft and gentle, telling him to let go, to find peace. But there would be no peace, not for him. Not until Daemon lay dead beneath his blade.
But fate had other plans.
In a final, terrible moment, the two dragons twisted together in a deadly dance. Claws ripped through scales, teeth sank into flesh, and the sky turned to fire. Aemond’s grip slipped, and he saw Daemon leap from Caraxes with Dark Sister drawn. There was a flash of steel, a scream of dragons, and then—Darkness.
The cold waters of the God’s Eye rose up to meet him, swallowing him whole. As he fell, his last thoughts were not of vengeance or war.
They were of her.
Y/N.
If he could have just one more day... one more day with her…
But there were no more wishes left to make.And so, Prince Aemond Targaryen, last of his name, died with his sister's name on his lips, lost forever in the depths of the God’s Eye.
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abiomens · 4 months ago
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i feel my heart decaying
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paring: best friend!noah x fem!reader
content warning: angst, hurt/comfort, little bit of friends to lovers (?), cheating, negative mentions of body image, insecure reader.
a/n: kinda (very harshly) a self insert, not exactly. title is from break me! by maggie lindemann. do not continue under the cut if anything listed above may make you uncomfortable.
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Words couldn’t describe how you felt when you walked into your apartment.
Anger, sadness, hurt. It felt like a knife was being drug through your chest with how bad it was. Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach when you saw them. Your boyfriend, David, with her. The girl he claimed he didn’t love anymore, the girl he left for you 2 years ago.
You could feel the hot tears beginning to stream down your cheeks, watching the way David kissed and grabbed her. The sound of you clearing your throat made him pull away frantically, eyes going wide at the sight of you standing by the doorway.
He was pulling away from her and blubbering apologies, trying to get closer to you, but you weren’t having it. That girl did nothing but look at you with a smirk, deep green eyes piercing your soul. Her bright red lipstick was smeared and all over Davids lips, the ones you loved to feel mold against yours every day.
All you could muster up was a broken “we’re over.” He looked pained, but it was his fault. He invited her over, he had a few drinks with her knowing her intentions. He still loved her. He used you to get over her.
You could hear him call after you when you slipped past him and down the hall to your shared room. You bit back a sob when you looked around the room, pictures of the both of you on the walls, the lingering sent of his cologne.
The faint sound of David and the girls voice rung out the apartment, but you couldn’t make out whatever they were arguing about. With shaky hands, you grabbed your phone out of your jacket pocket and managed to click on the one contact you thought of.
Noah.
He had just dropped you off from his house, but you needed to get away from this situation, from them. You could figure out what to do tomorrow.
Your nerves immediately soothed a bit when his voice came through the other line, smooth and calm.
“Hey angel, perfect timing! you left your- wait, are you okay?”
He immediately knew something was wrong when he could vaguely hear yelling and your sniffling. “Can you come back and get me? Please? I-I’ll explain everything then.”
You tried not to sound so sad, so broken, but you couldn’t fight it. Your chest felt so tight and your vision was blurry.
“You can stay the night or for however long you need, I’ll be over in ten.”
A small “okay,” was all that came out before he hung up.
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It wasn’t pretty when you told Noah what happened. He was practically fuming, trying so hard to not punch David. Noah kept it in though, helping you pack a bag and managing to get you out of the place without David begging you to stay.
Noah even buckled you in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. It made your heart flutter a little, but the rest of you felt so numb. You brushed it off as your brain fucking with you.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a tattooed hand squeezing your thigh softly, almond shaped eyes gazing into your own. “How you feelin’, angel?” You looked at Noah blankly for a second, breaking the eye contact and looking down at his hand.
“Just.. numb, I guess. t’was the last thing I expected to happen.” He frowned deeply at your words. He saw the signs before you did, how David was getting distant, how he was coming home way later than usual and using work as an excuse.
You wanted to believe him so bad, you wanted to stay with him, but..
He ripped your heart right out of your chest when he was the one that slowly healed and put you back together at the same time. He always reassured you that he only loved you, that he thought you were beautiful when you picked at yourself.
He always told you he loved you. Always. Then he pulls that.
You wanted to be mad, you wanted to yell at him and tell him to pack his stuff and get out, but you couldn’t. You still had love for him, it hurt so bad to see him go away, even when he jabbed the knife farther into your gut.
That stupid fucking smirk she had on her pretty face. You couldn’t be bothered to remember her name, you didn’t care. She was slim and pretty, long redish-orange hair and deep green eyes. Long legs and confident. Everything you weren’t.
Your gaze slowly trailed to Noah when you realized he had turned to face you in his seat, lacing your fingers with his in both hands. His practically swallowed yours whole; they fit together perfectly. Maybe too perfect.
“I’m sorry, y/n. You seriously don’t deserve any of this. Again, you can stay with me for as long as you need. You can stay in my room if you want, or the spare. You know the guys love having you over.”
That was true. Folio especially loves causing chaos with you, Nick always shows you what he’s working on when it comes to the tattoo shop, and Jolly is always up to teaching you how to play guitar. They always welcome you with open arms, especially Noah. You’ve known him and Nick the longest, but there’s always been something more with Noah.
He’s your best friend. You love him more than anything.
Would he tell you he’s had feelings for you for years now? No. Has he contemplated on just doing it so you can finally realize he’s the one for you? Maybe. He doesn’t wanna risk pushing you away.
He loves you too much.
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It was already late when Noah came back to get you again, so everyone was asleep when you guys got there. Well, except for Nick. He was the only one up when Noah left, so he somewhat knew about what happened.
It was obvious, so obvious that he wanted to punch David in the face, beat him until he was black and blue. Noah wanted to as much as he did, but you were exhausted. Mentally and physically. Always overworking yourself and barley getting any sleep, constantly up at night worrying about David and wondering where he is, if he even loved you anymore.
Nick gave you a big hug the second you came into view. He and Noah had set a plate aside for you when Jolly made dinner, but you felt like you would vomit if you ate anything right then.
“I’ll be in my room drawing if you two need anything,” and he was off. Everything felt like some sort of haze, your mind was foggy. You couldn’t really register Noah slinging your bag over his shoulder and wrapping his arm around your waist, walking you up the stairs to his bedroom. You murmured in the car that you wanted to stay in his room, you felt safe with him.
It made his heart melt and his tummy swarm with butterflies, hearing those few simple words.
“You’re my safe space.”
It made him happy, he couldn’t fight the smile that spread on his face. He kissed your knuckles, something he always did, no matter the circumstances. Sometimes he did it to piss off David, others he did it just cause. Your skin is just so soft, he loves feeling it under his palms and fingertips when you show skin every once in a while.
You suddenly found yourself in Noah’s arms on his bed, head tucked against his chest. You basked in the warmth of it, pulling him as close as you could get him. The soft sound of his voice rung in the room and vibrated through his chest.
“Y/n? You wanna change into something more comfortable?” You wanted to, you wanted to get up and do at least something cause Noahs done it all the past two hours, but it felt like you were glued onto him. You didn’t have the energy to move even in the slightest. All you could manage was a muffled “‘can’t do it on m’own.”
He figured you’d say that, theres been multiple times that he’s had to slip you into something more comfortable. Either cause you were drunk, which was a rare occurrence, or something like this. No energy. Too exhausted. He gently moved you off him, chuckling at the small pout on your lips. Its not your fault he’s so warm and comfy.
“‘Gonna grab a hoodie and something out of your bag, okay? It’ll only be a second.” Reluctantly, you nodded. He was back in no time with a pair of your shorts and his hoodie. It was the Bad Omens gun one, your favourite. It practically swallows you whole.
Your nerves immediately soothed when the warmth of his palms settled on your shoulders, rubbing softly. You had to relax somehow, you’re tense. Really tense. It was making you feel so sleepy, so when he pulled away and tugged on the hem of your shirt a little, you were- needless to say -pouting again.
Noah just chuckled again, lifting your arms and pulling off the fabric. He was quick but gentle with his movements, and couldn’t help how his eyes trailed over your chest and stomach. It was only for a second, but god he always found you beautiful. His pretty little best friend.
He pulled the hoodie over your head and helped pull your arms through the sleeves, to anyone else it probably would’ve looked weird to see your best friend slipping off your jeans- but it was normal for the both of you. Noah was just giving you a helping hand, he always does. You always comfort him when he needs it, always gives him reassurance, anything he ever needs.
You’re always there for him, and he’ll always do the same for you.
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You were dozing in and out of sleep, snuggling as close as humanly possible into Noah’s chest. You refused to let go of him, but he wasn’t complaining. He’s just so comfortable and warm, and you like warm. The faint sound of Hannibal played in the background, the feeling of Noah’s fingers gently running through your hair and scratching at your scalp lulled you further into your sleepy state.
You were half on top of him, legs tangled together and arms wrapped tightly around him. Sleep finally took you and let you fall into a deep sleep, and you could’ve sworn you felt Noah’s lips press against your forehead. You didn’t have the energy to say anything.
He knew the guys would tease him in the morning if they saw the two of you like this, limps tangled together and your face buried in his chest, his own pressed against the top of your head. But he didn’t care, having his favorite girl in his arms was all that was on his mind.
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dark-and-kawaii · 3 months ago
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˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱‧ An Incubus & His Dove ‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱‧₊˚
Summary: You return to the House of Hope to seek out Haarlep… Only this time, he doesn’t suckle on your soul- refusing to feed off you, but why?
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Pairings: Haarlep x F!Tav/Reader
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Content: NSFW - Hurt/Comfort - Breeding - Soft Haarlep - Cervix Penetration - Angst - Love
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Notes: Who isn’t a sucker for a good incubus romance smut story? Enjoy xoxo
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The following stroke, just as brutal as the first, followed after a cruel ten second pause, ripping another scream from your throat. It was always this way. Every visit to the House of Hope ended the same, with you sprawled beneath the incubus Haarlep, your wrists bound by his massive hands, your body a canvas for his cruel pleasure. Which you always happily accepted…
The next thrust made your toes curl and your back arch, “Hah~ Haarlep~!” you gasped the demon's name. To which made him chuckle deeply, and continue the rhythm. 
Haarlep was beautiful, undeniably so. His eyes held a hypnotic allure, and his touch, though brutal, sent shivers down your spine always. He was a monster, yes, but he was your monster.
“Such a pretty little voice, dove~ And all for me~?” The creature purred into your ear, it was such a deep, husky, and oh so sexy tone that made you shudder. All you could do was bite your lip to stifle the sound that threatened to slip.
Haarlep gave your neck a warning bite.
You released your lip and whimpered, “y-yes~”. 
He was right. You were all his. You knew this… It’s unfortunate Raphael didn’t know this… 
You knew you should’ve fought back when you first met Haarlep, resist his advances. But you couldn't. You were powerless against him, both physically and emotionally. As if an invisible string had attached you to one another…
“Hmm~ You know~~~ You really shouldn't be making such sweet noises. I may end up eating you alive before I get my fill of you~” Haarlep winked, his pace never slowing.
Your cheeks heated up at that thought, and you turned your head away, “I-I-“ A particularly hard thrust cuts you off, “Ah~ Haarlep!!! Haaaarlep~ ♡!!”
It wasn't until then, when you realized, that Haarlep hadn't fed yet... Your eyes opened wide and you quickly looked at him, he seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly, but something was off…
“Ngh~ hah~!” You struggled against his hands, wriggling your wrists around in his grasp and cried out, “s’too m-much~ w-wait~ haa~”
The creature pulled you close with his wings, his tail wrapping around your thigh to keep you pressed firmly against him as his cock slowly started to painfully pull out. His bulbous head stretching your tiny tight pussy as it began to leave your body. 
He'd just been going at you like an animal, but hadn't actually fed off you… Haarlep was simply enjoying the moment, the pleasure you provided him with.
As the head finally popped out, you were left panting and whimpering beneath him, and he was left groaning and growling at the sudden lack of warmth. He was about to push his cock back in until you slipped your leg free of his tail and kicked his chest.
Haarlep grunted as his large body was pushed over… And you wasted no time climbing on top of him and sinking his cock into your tight, hot cunt. 
You both moaned at the sensation, and you were the first to move, slowly rolling your hips.
His eyes shut in pleasure as his hands quickly found their place on your ass, his claws digging into the flesh, “My~ What a feisty dove~! So hungry for my cock~ I'm glad, because I'm not letting you go~ Mmm~ So warm and wet~ My little dove~”
You leaned forward, resting your hands on his chest as you rode his cock, your moans soft and sweet, his name dripping from your lips like honey.
Haarlep licked his lips and arched his back, pulling you down further onto him as he took control, bouncing you in his lap and pounding your tight cunt. His orangish red eyes met yours and his tail wrapped around your thigh again, pulling your leg away from his hip causing your hips to shift forward. The new angle had the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, which sent your back arching, your eyes closing and your jaw dropping in a silent scream.
His thrusts only got harder and more powerful, bullying and punching your insides with his cock- bruising your cervix as he watched you fall apart.
“Haarleeeepppp~ M-my puswy~ it- it’s gonna break~! Ahn~ pleaseee~ ah!~ ♡ Haaaa~ ♡ ♡ ♡!!!!!~”
It felt like you were being impaled on the head of some enormous pole as the demon kept thrusting his cock up into you, to the edge of your womb.
“Ah, yes!~ Sing for me dove~ with that pretty little voice of yours! Let all those pitiful souls know how good you're taking it!! I want them to hear the pleasure I give you~”
“Sh’o d-deep~ Ahhah- crush-crushing mah~ dee-pest~ parts~!~ H-haar-leeeeeppp~ ♡!!!!~”
With each thrust his head hit your cervix, and he was getting closer and closer to penetrating the deepest part of you.
You were so close, so very close to cumming, but a part of you wanted him to do it… To penetrate your deepest part.
To make you his completely, his and no one else's.
You knew that's what he wanted too, after all, you'd already let him have a taste of you... Why not have him devour you?
With that thought in mind you wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered into his ear, begging him, pleading for him, to give you what you both desired, “P-please, my- my incubus~ Pour your seed inside me, please- I need it, I want it~ I want to feel you, I want to be filled with you and no one else. Only you~ u-until there’s nothing left~ hah♡”
Your words had an immediate effect on him, Haarlep let out a throaty moan and picked up his pace, pounding away at your cervix, abusing the hole and trying to force his way through, “I can feel it you know~,” The way he spoke made your heart skip a beat, “The way those slick gummy walls of yours clamp down around me when talking about filling your tiny womb with my spawn~”
You whined, the sound needy and high pitched.
That seemed to be his breaking point, his claws digging into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, as he forced the head of his cock into your tight cervix. His mouth falling open, sweat forming on his brow, a deep blush for the very first time in his existence spread across his cheeks and his tongue hanging from his mouth as he drank the pleasures your body has to offer. 
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you wouldn't trade this feeling for the world. Your enslaved incubus looked so cute like this. Almost innocent, despite being buried balls deep inside of you, his cock in the shallowest part of your womb…
The head of his cock twitched and throbbed as it started spewing hot ropes of cum into you, his seed painting the deepest parts of your womb a creamy white.
Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, and a bit of drool dripped down onto Haarlrp as your body convulsed and squirted all over his abdomen.
Slowly, Haarlep ground his cock inside of you, pushing his seed deeper and deeper inside of you, while also rubbing against the sensitive spots inside of you. His eyes locked on your face, taking in your cute expression, your teary eyes and drooling mouth, and your flushed cheeks. My how he loved that fucked out expression, it was one he'd seen on you plenty of times, and it was one he adored. How strange. Adored? No… More than that. Haarlep found his feelings for you growing with each day.
You held such immense value for him- your soul, your delicate frame, your charming visage, and that enchanting voice of yours… How he would grimace whenever a visitor came to him, daring to suggest he take your form, only for him laugh with a firm refusal...
Haarlep's wings unfurled at the thought, and his eyes drifted down, resting upon the sight of his cock inside of you, stretching your small, quivering pussy out, the way it hugged his length was beautiful... His hand made its way to your stomach and he found himself rubbing small circles where your womb would be... Where he could sense the smallest of soul within you... Haarlep could feel it earlier when you arrived, how you, his little dove, was carrying his child, his spawn- how you were carrying his child and didn't even know…
As your orgasm died down and your body began to relax, Haarlep slowly pulled out of you... The tip of his cock popping free from your cervix causing you to whine in response, a thin trail of cum and blood dripping out of you.
Haarlep laid his head back and relaxed, a small smile gracing his features as he enjoyed the afterglow.
Your afterglow, however, was you still being a mess, dry tears that left streaks down your cheeks, drool covering your mouth, and a small pool of liquid forming beneath you, on Haarlep.
The incubus grinned and wiped the drool from your chin, he noticed how you were staring at him, the look in your eyes told him that you were exhausted. He couldn't blame you, the way you were moaning earlier, the way you sang and screamed and cried his name- and the way you looked at him now, it was all so adorable, so cute... But there was something else there in those glazed over eyes of yours... His finger never leaving the soft flesh of your chin, his claw gently tracing along the curve of your bottom lip.
You shivered and slowly blinked.
Haarlep chuckled deeply, “Has my little dove found herself enamored by the pleasures Raphael's incubus can provide?”
Your cheeks turned a deep red, “No- no that's not it-“ You bit your lip, no... It wasn't that... Your eyes fell to Haarlep's v-line, your fingers absentmindedly running along his warm skin, “I-...”
“You...?” Haarlep hummed and watched you, waiting for your reply.
You looked up at him, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, “Haarlep… Why didn't you feed off of me?”
Haarlep's full lips curled into a mocking smirk, his eyes glittering with mischief, “Always so curious,” he teased, his voice a smooth purr that sent shivers down your spine, “Must I have a reason for everything I do?”
But you knew there was more, something hidden beneath his playful facade. The thought gnawed at you, a relentless itch that wouldn't be satisfied with his evasive answers.
Haarlep continued, “Well it’s quite simple, isn't it? You're Raphael's mouse are you not? He reaps the pleasure from your body when you're with me. His favorite little mouse, the only one who hasn't had their soul stripped... I can't do that to you, I can't hurt you- not that badly at leas-“
You shook your head and sighed… You knew when the damn demon was lying, “I should get going, I'm sure the others are worried about me…” You pushed yourself away from him and attempted to stand, but the pain between your legs had other plans, making you whine and wince…
Haarlep clicked his tongue, “I’d advise against hurry, Dove.” In the nick of time he grasped your arm to prevent you from collapsing, his tail encircling your waist to draw you gently back to him.
You purse your lips, unsure of how to tell him that you meant what you said, you wanted to belong to him, “i- i meant what I said. I want to be yours…” You felt yourself being held against him, “… I… I want to take you away from this place... i-“
Haarlep cocked his head to the side, and raised a brow as he stared at you, his face was blank, no sign of emotion whatsoever. 
"I want you to be my incubus. Just mine… And free…” You finished, a nervous laugh slipping past your lips.
“Oh, you do, do you?” His wings folded behind him, his eyes glowing brighter, a grin on his face, and his tail squeezing you a little tighter.
You could feel more tears threatening to fall, “Yes... I don't want you to feed off others... if you even can from how vile these creatures that visit you can be... I can't bear the thought of those devils- those that come to you abusing you as their plaything anymore- making you bleed for their own pleasure-“ your breath hitched in your throat, the tears that once threatened now freely falling, “Haarlep- i- i- can't stand to think of others using you like that... Seeing them- Raphael allowing it... Just h-how many times have your bones broken under all their touch-“
Haarlep leaned in, his breath caressing your skin. His nose gently brushed against your temple as he nuzzled closer. His lips hovered near yours, almost but not quite touching, “Foolish girl~” his tongue flicking out to tenderly lap away the salty tears.
Haarlep's smirk deepened, his wings unfurling to envelop you in their leathery embrace. His gaze was hard, tinged with mockery, but there was something else there too- a flicker of something you couldn't quite place, “So quick to wear your heart on your sleeve.”
Moments had passed and you soon found yourself submerged in darkness.
You were asleep, he knew, yet his words came regardless, “Of claiming me as your own personal incubus, beholden to no one but you.” A wicked grin curved those lips, “To have your delectable body as my sole source of sustenance, to drink deep of your pleasure, to ravish you whenever I please- whenever I need…" He leaned down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your flesh, and reveling in the warmth that radiated from it, “How foolish indeed~”. His eyes narrowed, “What am I to do with you, little dove?” He brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face… When your eyes opened, you were lying on your bed at the inn, a blanket over you and a pillow under your head. You sat up and looked around, your companions still sound asleep and you noticed a small note on the table beside you.
The words on the small parchment made your eyes water and your heart swell, a small smile tugging at your lips, 'My little dove, You've proven to be quite the heavy sleeper. You didn't wake when I dressed you, didn't even flinch when I took you away. But it matters not, for when we meet again, you'll have your answer. Until that moment arrives, do take utmost care of that precious burden you bear on my behalf.
- Your favorite Incubus. P.S. I look forward to hearing you sing for me once more.'
Your hand slowly lowered the parchment, and rested on your belly... It had made sense now, why he hadn't fed off of you, why he hadn't even tried to... Your eyes closed, and a soft sigh escaped you.
“Haarlep…”
You couldn't help but laugh at how silly the idea was... That you could actually have him... Be his breaker of chains and lover...
Yet, you still swore as you rubbed your flat tummy, “I will, no matter what... I'll set you free... My incubus” and you swore as you made your vow, that you could feel the ghost of lips caressing your cheek, and a feather light kiss to the corner of your lips.
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ddreamywitch · 4 months ago
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Chapter Two - Butchered Tongue
knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader
word count: 3.7k
a/n: a little late but here we are :)) I’m so grateful for all the nice people who have reblogged and commented!!
warnings: mentions of an orphanage, dead mums and Benji is still a little drama queen
song: Butchered Tongue - Hozier
chapter one
Benji hates the capital.
It stinks and it is always busy, with narrow dark alleys that lead nowhere and depraved people lining them.
His life has been ripped from him and handed into your hands. Hands free of calluses and scars, not a speck of dirt caked beneath their nails and yet, no matter how delicate and weak, they hold his fate.
He isn’t meant for a knight’s life, all honour, no freedom. And least of all he is meant for the life of a knight in this godforsaken city, which seemingly offers nothing but sin and tragedy.
Benji has always found the king to be terribly unlikeable. A slimy little man, who had been quick to put to the torch what his ancestors had built up in this realm. He had forgotten just how severe it all is, with his home so far removed from this but now, as he stands next to you, he thinks he could just vomit. He won’t of course, he isn’t like you, with your weak demeanour, to faint at that little bit of sun.
Today you still look pale, though you’d spent the last three days on bed rest, days which he had to spend simply waiting around in front of your chambers.
He was almost glad when he was informed that you were to visit one of the city’s orphanages.
In your hands you hold a woven basket and you listen to the nun introduce you to the children, with little humility.
He doesn’t understand why all the realm is always fussing over you, so far you have yet to live up to any of the tales that have been spun around your name.
Well except, perhaps, those of your beauty. Though it may pain Benjicot to admit it, it is clear as day that you are exquisite.
But still you do not seem as clever or as kind, let alone charming, as he had been led to believe, to him.
He hopes that you are vain and offended enough to want to be rid of him by the end of the week. He would likely be exiled then, but it seems a better destiny than spending the rest of his life devoted to some strange girl he’s only just met.
He had refused all marriage deals before this, and in this scenario he would never be able to bed anyone again. Truly an awful thing for a young man of his age to behold.
Uncomfortably he shifts from one foot to another as Sister Linda continues to rattle on. He’s avoiding to look into the sad faces of abandoned children, so he regards you instead, boring holes into your frame with all his might.
You are wearing the same smile he’d seen you wear during the knighting ceremony. Practised and detached. It seems quite unbelievable that anyone should fall for this masquerade of yours, but apparently it works.
You’re dressed in the colours of your house, though a paler version of them. Lilac. It has only very thin sleeves and he can see the fading imprint of his fingertips on your arm. He had gripped you a little harshly during your little incident, too much taken by surprise to consider his own strength, and then, of course, he was immediately praised for being the perfect pick for his position, so eager to protect his princess.
He should have just let you tumble to the ground, he thinks. But his instincts had betrayed him.
You do not shift every few minutes like he does. You’re very still, hands gripping a woven basket filled with gifts for the children and only every now and then do you react to something.
A humble laugh here, an interjection of a ‘thank you’ there.
Your brother had informed him that you do this every week with a different charitable institution. Much to his dismay, he would have to accompany you to an infirmary next time. As though the city itself didn’t spout enough risk of infection.
It is so foolish, to have you, of all people, visit all these poor souls, give them your feigned smile and a present which leaves not even the tiniest of scratches in the wealth of your father’s house.
Pretentious is what it is. You’re nothing more than a third-born woman, you hold no importance to the politics of the land.
The nun finishes her ode to you and you bow your head graciously. “Thank you, Sister,” you say.
The old hag blushes, like a little girl and Benji simply cannot help the little scoff that escapes him.
Your head shoots around, eyes widened as though you had forgotten about his presence at all, but you compose yourself quickly.
“Ser Benjicot, would you help me hand out the baskets please?” You ask, voice dulcet and melodic. You had chosen a different path than him, after your near catastrophic first meeting.
You have settled on greeting him with exaggerated sweetness.
A farce, he knows it. It is just a question of time before you would tire of it and go crying to your brother that you want a different knight.
He nods at you and the children are quick to line up, each of them eager, with glowing eyes.
You kneel down before them, dress skirts puffing up around you and begin to give them their gifts. There are toys and clothes for the winter time and little cakes and he wonders how in god’s name this is to be of use for longer than a blip in time. They’d outgrow the clothes and they’d fight over the toys the moment you would leave.
It is money which they need, money that currently adorns you in gold and fine silks.
Most of the younglings do not speak to you directly, too shy or too worried about what to say but some grin at you in that untamed way that only children do.
You ask them if they would like a hug or not and they all say yes.
Benji keeps giving the next basket to you, slowly emptying all the trunks that had travelled with you on your carriage. He is about to hand you the second to last one when he finds a little girl perched in your lap.
A redheaded small thing, fragile with scuffs and specks of dirt all over her. Her hair is matted.
“She just arrived this week,” Sister Linda tells him, despite him not having asked. “She’s refusing to take baths.”
He looks at the nun and then back at you.
Surely, you must also notice that stench radiating off the girl, even the other kids have taken a step back, but you do not react.
“My mumsy said yer’ a baker of hope,” the little one mumbles, grimy fingers clutching at the pendant which dangles from your neck. It is amethyst, a dark one, set in precious gold.
You laugh, soft and careful and pat her back. “I believe she said beacon, sweetling. I am not much of a talented baker.”
The girl shrugs. “Your necklace is nice.”
You hum.
When your carriage had entered the heart of the city, you had scrunched your nose in disdain, Benjicot had seen it. It is somewhat paradoxical to this interaction.
You lean even closer, dip your mouth down to the girl’s ear and whisper something. Her mouth drops into a big ‘O’ and she nods before slipping off of you.
You twist your upper half towards him, opening your arms to receive the last basket.
The little girl takes it into her hand and then you do something entirely unbecoming and wink at her. She giggles and with that you get up, knees clicking.
When you grab Benji's arm for support, he almost rips it away before coming to his senses.
But you notice his little twitch and raise an eyebrow at him, hand returning to your side.
“I believe we have done all for today, Sister Linda,” you say. “We shall see each other in about two moons, if god allows.”
The sitter curtsies. “We owe you and the king our deepest gratitude. It is always a delight to have you visit, your grace.”
Benjicot rolls his eyes at this and then, reluctant as ever, offers his arm to help you down the stairs.
You ignore it, surprisingly, dress bunched in your hands, and hurry down the hallway, him hot on your heels.
He catches up within two steps, with no layer of tulle holding him back and practical leather boots in lieu of your ornate heels that click along the cobbled grounds beneath you rapidly.
“Are we in a haste?” He asks and you stop only when you’ve reached the door.
“Ah, so he speaks,” you say, with none of the kindness you had just displayed a few moments ago.
You’re right. Holding his tongue is likely more effective in his ploy to gain freedom back.
He huffs and opens the door, you are halfway through it before you turn right back around and this time he can barely bother to rush after you.
Your hands fiddle with something at the back of your neck and then from where he stands he realises that you’ve taken the necklace off and suddenly the little girl appears from the top of the stairs, where all the other children had disappeared from already.
You hand it to her, crouched down to her level once more.
Now he regrets not having gone after you, too far to hear what you tell her.
And just as abruptly as your manoeuvre had begun, it is over again.
“Let us go back now, I am quite famished,” you tell him, not a single look spared in his direction, as you pass by.
Still, he thinks your cheeks are flushed.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It is quite laborious to not speak.
Especially for a man like Benjicot Blackwood, who is so often quicker with his tongue than his better judgement, who so loved to brag and yell and debate and laugh loudly.
Silence does not suit him.
The only person he has spoken with at court so far, is your brother, if only to request that he isn’t made the full armour of knighthood, a wish that he was granted.
He is almost entirely certain that it is his reputation which allowed him this luxury.
You had addressed the wardrobe change and told him that you were glad that he wasn’t forced into all the steel, the way Ser Rickon before him had been.
Benjicot had only grunted in return.
That is all he allowed himself towards you: grunt, scoff, huff, sigh. Perhaps roll his eyes, or make some other dismissive gesture.
You have yet to abandon your stubborn idea of being patient with him. You don’t chastise his behaviour and you can’t have complained to anyone because in turn nobody has told him to get it together.
As it is now, nobody speaks to him, most courtiers preferring to whisper.
Bloody Ben, they all still hiss behind his back, even though he does not at all feel like him anymore.
Bloody Ben is in the Riverland, in the rise and fall of its hills, buried in its luscious high grasses.
Here he is Ser Benjicot, a trapped up bird.
But he does grow hopeful each day, with every little crack in your angelic facade, with the thinning of your web of false amiability.
When he’d walked with you to the stables this afternoon, you had pushed him to the side to enter first.
Very subtly, maybe not even noticeable to any passerby, but he had felt your well-kept nails in the soft leather guarding his forearms.
And then after, as you had mounted your horse, you had barely waited for him to join you before galloping on out toward the private part of the beach.
Fury, your horse is called, which he thought so ridiculous that he had laughed upon hearing it, but seeing it now, he understood why.
It is bloody enormous. A black Friesian, the kind that is usually bred to the north of the kingdom. And just barely tamed, vehemently refusing to let Benjicot near it.
You’re leaned forward on her now, arms wrapped around her neck, your eyes trained on the sea.
The weather is rough today, strong winds tearing at your hair and coat.
Laughable, he thinks again. Your attire is made to resemble that of the cavalry, deep purple overcoat and a brooch resembling a horse attached to it, right on your chest.
But you are the princess, so of fucking course, your overcoat is embroidered with a golden sun. Of fucking course it is neat and clean. It’s a costume.
Everything you put on is a costume, down to the faces you make.
He’d say he hates you, but then again he has actually hated people in his life before and he doesn’t care that much for you.
“Quit that, will you?” you say, voice raised enough for him to hear you over the roar of the ocean. You look at him, brows pulled into a frown.
He tilts his head, redirects his horse to parallel yours, rather than face it. “What do you mean, your grace?”
You sigh. “Do not act stupid, Ser Benjicot. You look as though you may push me off my horse at any moment.”
He snorts. “I do not.”
“You do. It’s tiresome. I cannot make this feat easier for you, but why do you insist so on making it harder for me?”
This time he doesn’t snort. “Harder for you? Just because I refuse to be your friend, does not mean I am making it harder for you. It isn’t common to be so close with one’s knight. Just because you let Ser Rodrick do all sorts of things with and to you.”
You do not miss the implication of this. “It is treason, what you hint at. It is treason that you should think so lowly of one of the most honourable men in the realm. It is treason to speak of my maidenhood in such a lewd manner.”
Benjicot directs his gaze into the skies. They are grey, waiting to erupt. “I did not say it, did I?”
You huff. “Toad.”
His laugh startles you, he sees you flinch in the corner of his eye. “Too well behaved to even curse properly,” he mutters. “Do you have no emotion left, princess? Was your outburst in the garden the peak of it?”
You do not answer yourself at first, the crashing of waves, the sea gulls, they seem to do so for you. Benjicot wonders if this would be your last straw now.
He decides to push further.
“You are pampered and spoiled. You think you can give away necklaces and make up for it that way. You think that if you’re patient enough, I’ll come to like you as everyone does, but I’ll tell you now, I never will. I am not like the courtiers, blinded by the colours of your clothes and the shine of your royal hair. I do not care for your title or your wealth or your looks.”
He makes a point of staring at her then, surprisingly to find her expressionless and already looking at him. “You are nothing but shackles to me.”
Again you don’t speak. You hold his eyes and for a moment he thinks you would be the one to push someone off their horse
“Get down,” you say.
Benjicot’s smile grows. He’s been told that he smiles like a shark and he hopes you share this sentiment.
“Get down, Blackwood.”
He obliges. He’s done it, he’s hurt you enough. He is triumphant. He is already planning to find the next tavern.
Then you slide off your own horse.
“You have no idea of shackles, you imbecile.” Your voice is laced with venom, angry and acidic. “You are here because nobody wants to tolerate you. You are here because you are a child, a child with an affinity to violence. You are here because with you remaining in the Riverlands, the Brackens would have never agreed to my father’s attempts to finally bring peace upon your houses.”
He towers over you, but you do not appear to mind as you step closer and closer still, so close that he can smell your saccharine perfume emanating from everywhere and engulfing him like a cloud of roses.
“You think it is good that you are feared, but it is the opposite. Good people are good. Good people do not have others crossing the room to be removed from them. You are nothing short of a small babe throwing a temper tantrum. You should consider yourself lucky that somehow you managed to make your contribution to end this foolish bloodshed between the Brackens and the Blackwoods, even though you worked so hard to keep it alive. Perhaps God will be gracious when you go to meet him then, knowing this. I cannot rid myself of you, without having you killed, you are essential to this plan, so unless you wish to meet our Lord himself sooner than planned you must either learn to be civil or learn to be silent.”
You exhale deeply.
“I do not wish to order your execution, I have never had to do such a thing before in my life and it should be a pity that I were to soil my hands on your youthful blood,” you end.
Benji can see the way your chest heaves, the little specks of red that decorate your cheeks. You are nervous but still you don’t waver.
The two of you stand in your positions, you with your arms crossed in front of you and him with his hands by his side.
Useless hands, he realises now. All is useless, no part of him has any power in this play.
He clears his throat and steps back, unsure what else he should do, for what is likely the first time in his life.
You nod, lips pressed together. “Silence it is then,” you say and he can’t help but wonder whether he imagines the tinge of disappointment in your voice.
It is very benevolent of you to not further comment on his indecencies, more benevolent than you should be but you are aware that he wasn’t raised in this pit of snakes. He doesn’t know of the conniving vipers that surround you and he is not learned in making up plans.
The urge to scream gnaws at Benjicot, at the dawning of how final his place by your side is.
There is no way out.
The king and his uncle promised the Brackens that he is no longer a threat to them. He is the debt that was owed and this is his price to pay.
And so is his gratitude for being a wonder boy, for having wielded swords and bloodied himself so early and so well.
“Ser Benjicot?”
He looks at you, upon your horse once more. It is becoming a thing of frequency for one of you to have to look up at the other.
He nods and so the two of you make your way back to the castle.
It is different this time.
He had dreaded it, a few days ago, when the city had come into sight on the horizon, but back then he had thought that he would weasel his way out.
This time, as you approach the castle, he feels himself suffocate.
Garden strolls, orphanages, banquets, infirmaries, this small beach.
You have no idea of shackles.
You trail ahead of him, high up on Fury, no tiara but hair wreathed around your hair in such a way that it is hard to mistake you for anything other than what you are, even sparing your very obvious clothes.
House Aprikate has historically brought forth women of the utmost charm, soft skinned and smiles that ballads are written about and many say it is their princesses that are the backbone of it all. Kind and warm. The mothers of the realm.
Your dynasty is one of greatness, for a century now your house has ruled the kingdom but it is withering now.
The smallfolk grows unhappy, uneasy beneath the sloppy sovereignty of your father.
He is shackled to you and you are shackled to your house and to this place.
And worse so, he has been free before. You have not.
He swallows his ache, as best as he can, still it tastes bitter on his tongue and by the time you reach the stables, he wonders if execution is still better than this appalling place is.
Maybe your father would marry you off to somebody far enough away from this place. A Bracken, for example.
God. Maybe your future husband would dismiss your knight and replace him with a man of his own. Yes that might be his out.
You’re an Aprikate woman, you would marry soon, he is sure of it.
The sun begins to set and paints the skies in shades of magenta and orange when you walk to your chambers.
“I shall take my supper alone tonight, should my brother come by to ask,” you tell Benjicot. “And I do believe it would be best if you do not mention our initial disliking for one another to anyone. The people here do so love to be blabbermouths.”
He nods and gallantly opens the wooden doors to your chambers.
“Goodnight Ser Benjicot,” you say and rush inside.
He glances along the hallway but it is empty, much like your room. He sticks his head in the tiniest bit. “I believe Benji shall suffice, your grace. Ser Benjicot is such a mouthful,” he says, quick and before he can change his mind again, almost stumbling over his own words as he does.
You smile. A good one, a real one this time.
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