#prince king undying

[dearest-alexander]

'FOR THE FIRST TIME' is Best 50 songs of 2023 in the Billboard charts

and I strongly believe it's 95% because of Halle, Alan, and Lin while the other 5% was because they saw Jonah's Eric entering the frame like this—

—Like the fckng disney prince he is.

Best part is I don't think he knows the chokehold of this gif would have on me for the rest of my Eric-less life. 🥲🙃

gif by @jonahhaeurking

[theriverbeyond]

i think if John had shown Harrow baby sensory videos on his tablet instead of making her drink tea she obviously didnt enjoy and eat biscuts that she so clearly did not want to consume everything might have been different 😔

[lwde-encrusted-sideblog]

To Close out Mermay, I just have one question.

[rottingsoftly]

The way John tells Harrow he sometimes wishes she were his daughter in htn and then later finding out he *does* in fact have a daughter but she's nothing like Harrow but he still tries to connect with her and share his culture with her and gives her what she wants (I bet she was the one who decided to go fight on the frontlines because it used to be her dream and she was still bitter and hurt over Harrow) but she's still not what he wanted and they both know it and oooouough aurgh eck

[g00seg1raffe]

Can i share something that happened to me last year

I'm minding my own business and this guy who I kind of know but wouldn't really consider myself friends with (trauma bonded on a school trip last year and haven't spoken since) comes up to me like hey, what are you doing? And I say: world-building the ancient history of Lord of the Rings. And then I proceed to tell him all about the various genocides of the first age, with a side note on Maedhros' Quenya name, which literally means 'the hot redhead who's third in line for the throne', with his mother name meaning 'hot damn', his father name meaning 'third of the king's name' and his nickname meaning 'redhead'. Then I explain that loads of elves get nicknames, like Gil-Galad and other people who I can't remember.

And he goes cool, can I have an elvish nickname? And I say sure, what do you want it to mean?

And he goes: big daddy

and I don't know what's more embarrassing: a) he thought that, b) he asked that, or c) I could translate that off the top of my head.

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Jak and Daxter Thursday Part 2

(As promised, the Less Angsty Part.)

The onlookers all seemed to think Jak had slipped out of the Precursor craft at the last moment. That was just fine with him: it meant no one had seen him teleport out, carrying Damas into the tower. Leaving him there had been terrifying -- even if the monks in the Convalescence Ward had believed him to be a Precursor himself, and vowed to care for Damas with a reverence that made him sick, it was hard to trust his father's care to others. But he had appearances to keep up, just as his other self had warned him. All he could do was focus on his next steps.

Sig had taken the throne as interim regent in Jak’s place, as while he was more than capable of satisfying the battle requirements of a Spargan king, he wasn't yet of age. That was a mercy, but Jak knew Sig loathed the role. Damas had been like an elder brother to him from the moment he staggered through the gates of Spargus seeking refuge. Sitting in his place felt as wrong for him as it did for Jak.

Jak turned a tired smile to Daxter, who met it with a knowing look. Tess raised her brows at Daxter, but he tiptoed to whisper in her ear that he'd explain later. Jak clapped a hand to Keira's shoulder in camaraderie as he passed, and she returned it in kind with a light squeeze.

There was a pain in her eyes Jak remembered too well. Everything had come out in bits and pieces from the moment Haven had traded Jak to Damas, and Keira almost regretted digging for answers. Learning that a beloved parent was capable of such thoughtless cruelty to someone else's child "for the greater good"- well. They'd had their fights, but Jak wouldn't have wished that feeling on her even if she'd joined the Krimzon Guard.

"J- sorry, Mar."

Jak managed a bittersweet smile. "For you, I can still be Jak."

Keira bit her lip and looked skyward for a moment, blinking rapidly until she had her facial expression under control.

"...okay. Jak, I'm...I'm going to denounce him. To think that all that time, he knew- I. I don't think I'll ever- it's like I woke up and someone replaced my dad with a complete stranger."

"We never blamed you for any of it," Jak answered earnestly. "Spargus won't hold it against you if you don't denounce him. We all answer for our own choices."

Keira blinked hard again, and nodded. "And this is my choice. I'm choosing you and Daxter this time. Like I wish I had before."

Jak reached up to squeeze her hand. "...thanks, Keira. We...I missed you."

"I missed you too, Jak." Keira let go to fold her arms across her middle. "Can we start over?"

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Jak nodded. "I- yeah- yeah we- that sounds good."

Keira offered a wan smile, then let him go. It felt like torture, climbing the last few platforms to the balcony. Sig was there, but so was Samos. And so was Onin. And while Jak knew they were only there because Sig wanted them within firing range if they tried something, it made him hesitant to continue forward. He didn't want to be anywhere near the people who had known about Veger's plot and blithely co-opted it for their own uses.

"Jak, m'boy! Well done!" Samos chortled merrily, wearing that grandfatherly air Jak had always fallen for before.

Not anymore.

"I'm not "your" anything." Jak stepped past him in a hurry. He didn't trust himself not to snap if he remained within arm's reach of the sage.

Sig rose from the throne and held an arm out to him with an understanding look.

"Mar," he said softly.

He clasped arms with Jak, and nodded solemnly.

"I'm proud of you, kid. Your- Your father would be proud."

"He is," Jak answered softly. Then he pulled Sig down to his level by the shoulder to whisper in his ear, "Dax is going to take over the diplomacy stuff down here. Meet me in the C-Ward upstairs."

Sig straightened and frowned down at him. "What'd you do, cherry?" he murmured.

The smirk Jak gave him in reply was so grim he could have sworn it was Damas who stood before him once more.

"I shaped my own fate, like my father taught me."

For a long time, Sig just looked at him. Then he shook his head. "Boy, if I didn't already know you did impossible things-"

The Convalescence Ward was a hive of activity the instant Jak stepped through the door. He frowned. The light eco should have rewound the crushed bones and organs almost perfectly! Doubtless his father would be sore a while, and Jak hadn't been able to fully repair the broken leg before running out of eco, but that wouldn't warrant this much fuss, would it? He opened his mouth to ask what the problem was, and a senior monk rushed to him.

"Young prince! Your father-! He- he-!"

Irrational thought it was, anxiety twisted in Jak’s stomach. "What about my father? What are you talking about?"

The old woman took him by the hand, a slightly disturbed awe wavering in her voice.

"He lives! Your father lives, Mar!"

Relief washed over him, and with it, the events of the last 48 hours that he'd been shoving to one side.

"Let me see him," he said urgently.

"I...must warn you first, Mar," the monk cautioned, and Jak's stomach flipped again.

"He is...changed. The Precursors returned him from the edge of death -- by hand! No mortal can experience such a thing and remain unaltered."

Ah. Just the normal "Mystical Whooo Crap", as Pecker called it.

"I've seen that kind of thing before. I'm not afraid," Jak assured the monk. "Please. Just take me to him, Ruma."

Damas was awake now -- he hadn't been when Jak had seen him last. One leg -- the still broken one -- lay propped up where monks could splint it. Dark blue shapes twisted and curled under the skin, as if lights were shooting through his veins. The rest of him looked strangely normal for having just been yanked back from the edge of death. The monks not splinting his leg quickly backed away from the bed as Jak approached.

It had worked. The timeline was closed now, and Damas lived.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Jak dropped to sit in a heap on the edge of the cot. He fumbled for Damas’s hand and held it to his chest as he let out a shaky breath.

"You're here," he croaked.

"I'm here," Damas repeated, almost confused. Then his face split into a wide smile. "I'm here."

Jak blinked. Something wasn't quite right about his father's face. Something about his eyes was a little brighter than he recalled. And the teeth...Too many? Too few? Too sharp? His mind couldn't decide for a few seconds before the bones in question seemed to settle into a fairly standard -- if unusually sharp -- set of human teeth.

A memory of his own face, saturated with both light and dark eco, rose to Jak’s mind, and an uncomfortable thought followed on its heels.

Had he altered his father's physical form by healing him in the Precursor craft?

Further speculation was cut short when Damas pulled his hand free to tap playfully against Jak’s cheek.

"You once pushed a chair in front of the door -- a toddler's chair, mind you now -- because you thought it would keep me from going to work without you. You never could stand being left behind, could you?"

He sounded like he wasn't certain whether he was more amused or annoyed.

So much pain, so much loss, and here they all were at the end of it all, still standing. So to speak. The exhilaration of not being the only one left to tell the tale filled him with a heady feeling he would later come to recognize as joy.

With a giddy laugh, Jak threw himself forward and into Damas’s chest.

"We did it!" he crowed, "We did it, we did it!"

Damas’s arms folded over his back, and his chest vibrated with a soft chuckle.

"So it would seem! Though how I'm to explain this, I'm not certain."

"So just don't explain," Jak snorted, "and let them come to their own conclusions."

He ducked away from the hand tweaking his ear with a laugh.

"And let someone start some crackpot theory about our already bizarre bloodline?" Damas feigned offense. "That sounds like a terrible idea!"

"Terribly clever, I agree."

Damas lightly thumped Jak over the head. "Impudent little- When I get out of this cast, I oughta-"

Finally seeing an opportunity, a monk gracefully interrupted. "My lord, your leg requires time and watchfulness to heal correctly. You must leave it immobile for at least two weeks until we know what the eco is doing in your bloodstream."

She turned and nodded respectfully to Jak. "I trust you will keep the injury well tended-to?"

Jak slid over to occupy the space between Damas and the small nightstand. He leaned back against the wall beside his father and nodded back.

"Don't worry, he's not going anywhere. I'll make sure of that."

"This is elder abuse," Damas complained, just as lighthearted and almost giddy as his son. "You can't make me stay in bed! That's mutiny!"

"No," Jak retorted with a broad grin, "That's what happens when Sig gets here and finds out you're alive!"

"Argh, you're right!" Damas slipped an arm around Jak’s neck in half a hug, half a headlock. "And then I'd have to contend with Daxter!"

Jak gently poked Damas in the side with a smug grin. "Daxter? No no, Tess is the one you should be afraid of."

Damas flung his other hand into the air in mock exasperation. "Rot me, it's a conspiracy! I'm outnumbered!"

When the monks had finally taken the hint to leave the pair alone to catch up, Damas sobered slightly. "You know we'll probably have to make a plan for if the Precursors choose to retaliate for this."

Jak's eyes danced with mischief. "What're they gonna do without their technology? They're as powerless as Veger!"

Damas raised a brow -- no, Jak hadn't imagined it, there was something weird about his eyes now. The pupils weren't supposed to have little points of light like stars, were they? Not for humans.

"Alright cub, what did you do?"

"What did Daxter do," Jak corrected, deciding to deal with the possibility of his father gaining a Light Form later. "He confiscated the old one's staff, and then made them drop the ship with the Precursor we hatched from the Stone last year. Because they weren't being responsible with time and space."

Considering the young Precursor had been sitting on the beach that would one day hold Sandover Village, happily building elaborate sandcastles in lieu of blueprints, Jak had a feeling the new owner of the time machine would have fewer agendas to push. And given how the glowing being had greeted them as "My friend Mar" and "little Scout-brother", perhaps subsequent timelines would be kinder to his family. The other ottsels' horror and chagrin boded well, anyway.

[a-really-bad-decision]

incredible untapped comedic potential in a pre-resurrection character who wasn’t properly mind wiped before getting sent off to the ninth house for the restoration. Imagine dying suddenly and senselessly in the fires of nuclear armageddon, only to wake up on pluto ten thousand years later and learn that jerma has crowned himself the god king of the galaxy

[c-rowlesdraws]

" "Why did you ascend to be a Lyctor?" "Ultimate power-- and posters of my face." Fair. "

-Harrow The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir ⸻ Ianthe Tridentarius Ianthe the First, Prince Ianthe Naberius; Lyctor, Eighth Saint to serve the King Undying, Tall Hot Glass of Skank. A girl who'd tell you she's gotten everything she ever wanted—and you'd almost believe her.

I thought of drawing her propaganda poster as a closer likeness, but decided it was funnier if it was obviously retouched to look more healthy and saintly.

(process pics from sketch to final artwork available to see on patreon! This one had a longer journey than some of my other illustrations.)

[silasoctakiseron]

Every single one of you has managed to somehow be wildly, stunningly incorrect as to whether Silas Octakiseron would become a Lyctor in the absence of external pressure, which is sort of insane given the multiple chapters clearly stating the extent to which he Would Not Do That, including the chapter in which he literally dies in large part due to his staunch opposition to Doing That. But we can go over this again, that's fine. Hopefully this is in some way clarifying.

The first indication we're given regarding Silas's attitude toward Lyctorhood is when he's talking to Gideon in chapter 28, when he reveals that he's not just opposed to the Ninth achieving Lyctorhood, but that he thinks no one should, and that he himself has already abandoned the entire endeavor.

"In fact, I am unsure that any of us should become Lyctor. Since when was power goodness, or cleverness truth? I myself no longer wish to ascend, Gideon."

We can combine that with his specific breed of annoyingness in chapter 33 to deduce that whatever he saw in the only Lyctoral challenge he completed (implied to be Anastasia's, since he has the black key already when he takes Cytherea's off her) was enough to put him off the concept entirely:

"I won the first key to see what I was up against, and took possession of two more to preserve them from misuse," said Silas. "I hate this House. I despise the reduction of a holy temple to a maze and a puzzle. I took the keys so that you wouldn’t have them. Nor the Sixth, nor the Third."

Then, of course, we get to chapter 34, in which Silas literally dies because of how staunchly morally opposed he is to the truth of Lyctorhood as a concept and how convinced he is of the idea that Ianthe should be put down like a dog for having pursued it.

"So that is Lyctorhood," said Silas. He sounded quiet, almost fretful, lost in thought. Gideon thought—just for a moment—that she could see Colum Asht's throat working, that his pupils had dilated just a very, very little. "To walk with the dead forever … enormous power, recycled within you, from the ultimate sacrifice … to make yourself a tomb." "You understand, don't you?" said Ianthe. "Yes," said Silas. Colum closed his eyes and was still. "Yes," repeated Silas. "I understand fallibility … and fallibility is a terrible thing to understand. I understand that if the Emperor and King Undying came to me now and asked me why I was not a Lyctor, I would fall on my knees and beg his forgiveness, that any of us had ever failed this test. May I be burnt one atom at a time in the most silent hole in the most lightless part of space, Lord—Kindly Prince—should I ever contemplate betraying the compact you appointed between him, and you, and me." Colum opened his eyes again. "Silas—" he began. "I will forgive you eventually, Colum," said his purse-mouthed uncle, "for assuming I would have been prey to this temptation. Do you believe me?" "I want to," said his nephew fervently, with a thousand-yard stare and his missing finger twitching around his shield. "God help me, I want to."

[astrolovecosmos]

The 5th House + Romantic Themes/Tropes

Aries in the 5th House: Knight or hero saving their damsel in distress, competitor suitors, "bad boy/bad girl" with "nice guy/girl" dynamics, queen/princess saving the king/prince, a hard to catch chase, red roses and red lipstick, athlete or warrior connected love story, second chance love stories, couple vs. nature or unknown as they pioneer a new frontier, lingerie, things move fast, "no one else like you", fated lovers, lover's quarrels, innocent love, first loves, love at first sight.

Taurus in the 5th House: Worshipping each other's bodies, making love in nature, paradise themes, fancy venues, luxury, secret prince/billionaire stories, Cinderella-like stories, seduction, sensuality, aphrodisiacs, massages, the fastest way to their heart is through the stomach, willpower, ugly duckling themes, silk and cashmere, kisses on the neck, serenading, rose petals on the bed.

Gemini in the 5th House: Friends to lovers, pretend relationship tropes, sexting, online dating stories, pen pal lovers, long distance relationships, romantic academia, coffee dates, study dates, eloquence, unexpected softness, talking dirty, rivalries to lovers, Kama Sutra, twists and turns, love letters, vocalness, teasing, arguments.

Cancer in the 5th House: Old friend or flame love stories - maybe similar to second chances, parent trap themes, moonlight, waterfalls, ocean waves, baths, intimacy in the shower, cuddles, feeling wanted or needed, private or secret lovers, waterbeds, remembering and celebrating important dates like anniversaries and birthdays, sentimental love, nurturing their lover back to health themes, pearls and silver, traditional love themes, Romeo and Juliette, Titanic vibes, homecooked meals or lunches, long hugs.

Leo in the 5th House: Holiday romances or flings, everyone else can see how fated or good they are with someone - but they themselves are oblivious, wine, dance floors, flattery, adoration, gold, luxury, sex on the beach, roleplay, hot-blooded passion, romance that involves royalty, center of attention, turns heads, strip tease, mirror on the ceiling, professing undying love, great adventures, drama galore or a love worthy of the stage.

Virgo in the 5th House: High School sweethearts, devoted lover who does a service or keeps a promise for a dead partner, defending someone's honor or being defended, saving their lover from a bad partner or ex, loyal servant and royalty loves, light tracing, tickling, taking care of someone or nurturing them back to health, sexy outfits, plenty of praise and appreciation, couple's spa day or massage, attentive, caring, the details in love matter.

Libra in the 5th House: Love triangle stories, masquerades, balls, Parisian love stories or themes, opposites attract, wedding related romances (meeting at a wedding or stopping a wedding), lovers against the odds, love potions, star-crossed lovers, matchmaking, sunsets, pastels, clouds, rivals or enemies to lovers but with grace or focus on making peace, sensual moments, biting lips, charm counts for something, perfume, candles, oils, flower petals, champaign, strawberries or cherries, feathers, cliche seduction, inspirational love, love and art, love songs.

Scorpio in the 5th House: Enemies to lovers, dark romances, horror and romance, forbidden love, secret romances, "if I can’t have you, nobody will", vampires, magic or the occult, Phantom of the Opera, passionate kisses and touch, lingerie, naked, bondage, power, vulnerability, jealousy or possessiveness themes, leather, being by or in water, strong taste and fragrances, avenging your hurt or dead lover or being avenged, dark fantasies, secluded romantic places, overcoming fears or challenges together, psychology, villains and heroes, transformative love stories.

Sagittarius in the 5th House: Lovers from very different cultures or backgrounds, eloping, loveable rogue themes, fish out of water stories, deep thoughts and discussions, speed dating, daredevils and calling bluffs, adventure, "I can show you a whole new world", exotic romantic places, escaping with your lover, hotel rooms, casino or game nights, learning together, discovering something new about their lover frequently, lucky to find each other, free-spirited love, surprises and passion.

Capricorn in the 5th: Force proximity stories, love that grows or takes time, time-travel romance, historical romances, secret romances, age gap themes, gothic themes, consistency, lotion and oils, romantic music, power dynamics, fine wine, wealth and luxury, secret prince/billionaire stories, earthy and erotic, punishment and submission themes, respect and grace, powerful libidos, leather, antique or fine jewelry, beautiful crystals or gems, great smiles or teeth, unique bouquets, careful lovers.

Aquarius in the 5th House: Sci-fi romance themes, unconventional dynamics or roles, time-travel romance, beautiful minds and/or beloved geniuses, light touch, substances to enhance experiences or feelings, incense or candles, anything goes, the unexpected, unique gifts or romantic gestures, romance that shows how much their lover knows them, rebel lovers, acceptance, deep talks, mind melds, fetishes, spiritual and/or mental challenges, unique beauty, each partner doing their own thing, their lover being the only one to arouse passion in them or vice versa.

Pisces in the 5th House: Running to catch up to their lover at the airport, amnesia related love stories, hopeless romantic, poetry, daydreaming, soulmates, finding a muse or being one, kissing in the rain, foot massages, love songs, satin sheets, skinny dipping, oysters, champagne, roses, making fantasies come to life, eternal promises and fidelity, loving life and love, overly idealistic love stories, fairytales, healing themes, intuitive lovers or psychic connections.

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to give the creature power. Like to befriend them.

[ni-kisno1fan14007]

forbidden

pairings: hopeless romantic prince!riki x maid!reader

warnings: suggestive, smut, fingering, size kink, unprotected sex, mild hair pulling.

He was the crown prince of the Far East, the future king of a people known for following their hearts, seeking romance and love no matter the consequence. They were the beacons of love and lust, the hopeless romantics of the bleak world they lived, lovers of poem, art and love itself. So it was no surprise when Prince Nishimura's eyes caught the sight of a maid, a simple common girl that scrubbed the floors of the castle and served royalty. From your thick dark locks, to doe eyed gaze, to your small frame, everything made him more and more smitten with you. He wanted you, he wanted to show the true meaning of love, spoil you with all the affection a girl could only dream of and show her a life that would put fairytales to shame.

Oh how he dreamed of you, how he desired to feel you lips against his as he tossed and turned in his bed every night, wanting to feel your body against his, in every waking moment until the end of his days. He was ready to drop everything.. everything for you, his title, his birthright.. he pined over you since the moment he laid his eyes on your face. He had to have you, have all for himself. His heart ached for you, bleeding itself dry in moments of longing that had him questioning his sanity for being so infatuated with a commoner.

He stared up at the ceiling, before finally deciding to head off to find you, to confess his undying love that had his mind spinning, he wants to hear your voice.. no he needs to. His footsteps were quiet as he made his way to the servant's quarters, finding the door to your small room, and gently tapping on the door twice. Dressed in a thin white chemise you open your door, confused at who would be looking for you at the time where the moon reigned the skies. Your eyes widen at the sight of the crown prince wearing a simple white shirt that was buttoned down exposing his toned torso, and some pants that hung low on his waist. "My lord-", "No! no more of that, I need you my dear, my heart aches as if it only beats for you, as if my entire being is fuelled by your existence, my body craves your touch as if I might burn away if your fingers do not caress me!, I love you dammit!, I love you so damn much!' he exclaims. You simply stand there, your mouth agape, brain short circuiting at the sight of the crown prince confessing his love to you, a man that had any woman at his feet, now looking down at you with infinite hope.

Before you could even answer, his lips crash against yours, arms wrapping around your waist, and all you could do was give in, melt into his touch as he kissed you like a man starved. His foot pushing the door close as one of his hands lifted up your chemise exposing your thighs to him. "You have no idea how much I have craved you my dear, please let me have you.." he whispers against your lips gently pushing against small bed at the corner of the room. He pins you down, his knee between your thighs rubbing against your intimate area in a slow pace that had your mind melting, fingers digging into his arms. "My lord-", "no, please call me Riki, I need to hear your voice moan my name'", he asks almost begging as his lips touch the soft skin of your neck, making your mind lose its sanity. "Y.. Yes Riki..", whisper out softly, the name still foreign on your tongue.

You let out a gasp as his rips down your dress, exposing your breasts to him, the sigh was better than what he had imagined, an image he had conjured up during his lonely nights of shameful pleasure where he touched himself to the thoughts of you. He couldn't help but groan at the sight of you bare for him, displayed right in front of his eyes, breasts round and moving with each breath you took, down to your hips and thighs rubbing together in anticipation, god he needed you so so badly.

He spreads your thighs wide open, exposing your most intimate area to his eyes, slick and gushing out arousal from the tiny tight entrance as its walls clenched around nothing. He couldn't help but smirk, ego elating at the fact that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. His fingers gently touch you, rubbing circles around your entrance making your legs twitch in pleasure, small sparks of bliss coursing through your body at the contact. Your can't help but moan out as he pushes two fingers inside, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as he stretches out your tight hole, he had to make sure you were prepared to what he had in store for you. He loved you so much, having you at his mercy begging for release was something straight out of his wet dreams. Tight, gummy walls clenching around his fingers, greedily sucking him was intoxicating for him, his pants growing tighter by the second, his member straining against the confines of the fabric. He needed release.. and he was going to get it.

He manhandled you into position, with your ass in the air, face stuffed into the pillows, intimate area dripping with slick sliding down your thighs, all needy and eager for him. He slid down his pants and aligned himself against your entrance, fingers tangled in your hair.. as he slowly pushed in.. all you could do was let out a muffled scream into the mattress as his huge size split you in half. His hold on your hair tightening as he pushes in deeper; the tip kissing your cervix. He groans unable to hold himself back from the feeling of your tight warm walls wrapped around him sending him to an abyss of pleasure that he has only dreamed of. All he wanted right now was you, to take you, and that’s exactly what he did as he pulled his hips back before snapping his hips forward, making you let out a scream of pained pleasure. He moved frantically, thrusts sharp and unforgiving bruising your insides, but you took it.

His movements were uncoordinated, mind hazy while finally receiving the pleasure he has only dreamed of experiencing for the past months, once he could only imagine the sounds you would make as he made love to you, how you would cry out his name with each brink of ecstasy he brought upon your body and mind, and now he has it, all in his hands with his member buried deep inside the girl of his dreams.. he was over the moon. He could care less of that what he was doing was forbidden, a prince being intimate with a servant girl, but he couldn’t care, he didn’t care, he had you now, and that’s all that mattered to him as he had you twitching in his arms after reaching you high, taking in his brutal pace like the good girl you were.

He reaches his high, thick warm release spilling into your womb as he groans out, feeling your walls squeeze him for all his worth. Riki collapses next to you, pulling you close, strong arms wrapped around your small frame, keeping you safe right where you belonged. In his arms in his forbidden embrace.

[jacespookiebear]

ೃ࿐ 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙚

summary : you’re the younger twin sister of jacaerys velaryon, heir to the iron throne. possessing an undying love for your brother and promising yourself that you would do anything to protect him.

pairings : jacaerys velaryon x dark!twin!reader

warnings : suggestive themes, violence, self-harm, incest, sexual content, teen pregnancies, dark tendencies, toxicity, angst?

For as long as everyone could remember, you and your twin brother were attached to the hip since you were born. From a young age, you were already showing signs of being rather protective of Jace. Rhaenyra always passed it off whenever Alicent would point it out. She was extremely upset during an situation where you scratched Aegon’s face after he teased Jace, even when to as far as to complaining to Viserys and wishing for you to be punished but your grandsire was entirely on your side.

You surely knew how to get away with everything, you were your mother’s only daughter afterall. Of course she would defend you no matter what troubles you brought for yourself and your siblings.

As much as your brother seems to love and care for you, he wasn’t as blind like your mother, he knew how much a cold person you were towards others who weren’t your family, you would never hold your tongue about your uncles and step-grandmother. “If I could, I would have them all beheaded just for how they speak of you, dear brother.” laying by your side on your shared bed with him, having you in his arms as he listens to you speak about wanting to commit kinslaying before dozing off to sleep.

It wasn’t like it scared the boy, but it made him concerned. What if the wrong person heard you say those things? You would be punished heavily for it. So that’s why he made you promise that you would never speak so filthy ever again.

While you all still lived in King’s Landing, you used most of your time watching your brothers train in the courtyard with your uncles, usually right by your grandsire’s side, who was always happy to spend time with his favorite grandchild. Always chanting your brothers’ names to show your support for them and to that it would be Aegon teasing Jace and Luke about you. It pissed you off after witnessing him completely be rough and harsh with Jace during a session until was forced by Ser Harwin to be pulled away.

The next night, you decided to pull a prank on Aegon by filling his chamberpot with rats. The aftermath left you having to lie and say how sorry you felt but really you wanted to do worse than that to the lousy Prince, he was always left unscathed whenever he bullied your brothers, you were only doing justice. But with enough tears in your eyes, you were quickly able to learn that you could manipulate your grandsire and mother to let you off the hook easily.

“He hurt you, brother!” you profusely shouted for Jace to understand, he had started to ignore you for awhile and it left you crying for his attention. “That scoundrel deserves worse.”

With just enough tears, he gave in and pressed a kiss on your forehead to make you happy again. But he knew you would never stop acting so cruel, Jace began keeping you away from Aemond and Aegon for couple of weeks before you all had left to move to Dragonstone. After hearing about how Rhaenyra tried betrothing Jace and Helaena, and you with Aegon, you couldn’t help but develop some annoyance towards her for it, started to ignore her kisses or affections for awhile, your mother was growing concerned for you.

After the arrival, you practically begged your mother to continue letting you have shared chambers with Jace, reluctantly she agreed, afraid to know what else you would have done if she disagreed but it made you warm up to her once more. Although your twin had wished for privacy, you came to agreement to having separate beds facing opposite to each other but that did not stop you from sneaking in his bed to hug him as he’s asleep.

Your younger brother, Luke, would always question why you always prefer Jace’s company, you sympathized with your sweet brother and started spending some time Luke as a way to pay for all the times you had shut him away. During these times together, you always read the histories of the conquest to him and even talked about how it is Targaryen customs to wed family.

During the funeral, you stayed by your siblings’ sides until Aegon had whispered foolishness in your ear about how you could’ve been married to him right now, was he always this stupid? you thought, looking around to find your brother, wanting to be away from the scoundrel they called a Prince but instead you saw him holding hands with your cousin, Baela. While you knew she was only grieving for her dead mother, the scene had you in tears in a quick instant and immediately you ran back into the Driftmark castle, shoving guests out of your way while Aegon laughed from the sight. Jacaerys saw from a distance, wishing he could chase after you.

As much as you wanted to be angry at your twin, when you were tousled out of bed and into the hall, your anger and rage disappeared at the sight of your brothers bruised up and bloodied, you tried leeching towards Aemond for what he did, “How dare you lay your filthy hands on my brothers?! I’m glad your eye was taken! You freak! You should be blessed by the Gods that I was not there to end your life!” you shouted, having to be restrained by the knights as Alicent stared at you with terror and disbelief that you would threaten the Prince, “My King, your granddaughter is a spawn of evil! She should be punished as well!” Alicent cried as Rhaenyra threw you and your brothers behind her to protect you, you began holding onto Luke who quietly wailed while Jace held the both of you.

After Alicent had cut your mother, it was you who ended the silence that covered the room. Wishing for her head, you seethed, you were tired of how she and her family had always looked down upon your family. When court and the lords around the Seven Kingdoms had heard what was said and went down, you were seen as the Heartless Princess, to extent they begun saying you were a Kinslayer in the making.

As you began getting older, the more beautiful you had grown, though many lords would never fight for your hand after what was said during the funeral of Lady Laena but you did not care, not one bit. It even relieved you. You were a believer of the Valyrian Gods and intended to stay true to Targaryen customs by marrying within the family, your love for your twin brother had only grew and you had even begun to lust for him.

You had hope that Jace could see your devotion for him clearly, as he also had become older, you noticed how drastically and. well defined he had become, he was a true gentleman— had always driven himself to work harder and prove that he is fit to be King, and he was fit. He knew his house histories, he knew how to speak High Valyrian, knew how to wield a sword, and knew how to fly with his dragon. Your adoring older brother, now a man.

Everything about him now just makes you yearn for him even more, as you pleasure yourself every night— your thoughts were only of Jacaerys. Wishing your fingers were his, moaning his name under the piles of sheets as you hoped you get caught by him one day. While these nightly self-pleasuring continued, your brother was asleep only a few feet away, snoring and nearly falling off his bed, or that is what you assumed as you continued thrusting your digits out of your soaked cunt, letting out soft whimpers and moans that were easily heard by Jace. Hearing your angelic voice, the squelching noises that came from your side of the room had your brother hard every night.

Jace had tried to restrain himself, you were his sister afterall, his cruel sister yet so sweet like a goddess in his eyes. Hearing your continued moans and mewls, Jace moved his hand down to fist his cock, head already leaking through his breeches while he used your voice to get off. Fantasizing taking your maidenhood, burying his cock deep inside of you, soon having you carry his children, the thought that you both could be wedded. The endless thoughts racing in his mind had him finishing in his hand, spurts of hot cum on his hand and landing on his sheets.

Forgetting where he was at the moment, he let out a harsh moan. Coming back to reality, still hazy from his high, “Jace? Are you alright?” Your voice had Jace immediately realizing what just happened, trying to fix himself quickly— not wanting you to become worried. “I-I’m fine, sister. It was only just a nightmare.” Thinking of what to say at the moment, mentally slapping himself across the face for the answer he gave you, already knowing you would be worried for him for having a nightmare. Hearing footsteps approach the side of his bed, he tried to fix his breeches until you pulled the sheets off his body, witnessing his leaking cock and smeared cum all over his stomach.

Jace feared what you were going to say, “You dirty pig!” or “You were touching yourself while I was near?!” But instead you gave him an amused smile, scooting in his bed to lay beside him, taking your finger to swipe of his cum before licking it off, tasting him before you driven your lips to kiss him. A desperate kiss that you had longed for, making sure your brother knew of your desires as he took your maidenhood that night. There was no rest, you both had wanted to make up for the long times, you whispered to your brother, “I always wanted you, brother, to have no man but your cock in me. My cunt will only remember the shape of yours until I die.” Filling your tightened cunt with his fat cock until the Sun had arise, pounding into you so mercilessly as you let out moans slip from your swollen lips. You swore the handmaidens from the halls had heard you both that early morning, from the whines and skin slapping echoing through the chamber walls.

You both couldn’t be away from each other for more than a second afterwards, you continued these pleasures throughout Dragonstone. In the great library, in the study hall, right by the gardens and the shore of the sea. It was great when you both would take your lovemaking at the shores, during night, you were allowed to express your love for your twin vocally without a worry of getting caught, mewling and moaning as loud as you wanted while you ride Jace’s cock, eager to please him as his hands laid on your waist, sometimes cupping your heavy breasts that would bounce with each rise. Your hands resting on his chest as you leaned closer to place a wet kiss on his neck, noticing you started to grow tired from having to do most of the work. Jacaerys rises to reposition himself, directly facing you now as his bare chest pressed against your breasts. You were centimeters away from his face, ghosting your lips from his, placing your hands to hold onto his shoulders.

His arms moved to press you closer into his embrace, caging you as Jace took control, thrusting upwards of his hips. The pleasure coming back to you, completely had your body surrendering to him entirely as your brother started pounding up into your wet cunt with no desire of stopping, you moaned and whimpered. As it was just you two, you had always submitted yourself to him with obedience, letting your brother control you and having you turn into a full squirming mess whether you were underneath him or on top.

“Jacaerys! I want you..to ruin me!” Continuing to lose yourself, you had aimed to keep your eyes on him the whole night but you couldn’t help but shut them with your mouth hanging open once Jace started suckling at your breasts, harshly suckling before bringing his fingers to rub at your sensitive bud to bring you more pleasure. “My sweet, little sister..so good to me..I love you..” you widened your eyes at your brother professing his love to you, how you longed for this for years. You wrapped your legs around his torso, beginning to unravel. Jace had always made sure to have you cum before he did, feeling your wetness around his cock had only made him plunge inside you faster, slipping out a couple of groans as he spilled inside you, filling you up with his cum.

You swore you were seeing stars in your vision, Jace continued to thrust his seed into your cunt, you tiredly peppered wet kisses all over his face— wanting to stay in this position forever but to your disappointment, he pulled you off him and had you laying on the makeshift bed that was on sand, you both laid there naked right by each other’s side, “Eminna muña wed īlva, emili iā uēpa Valyrīha dīnilūks hae ao va moriot jeldan” (I’ll have mother wed us, we will have an old valyrian wedding like you always wanted.), turning to face your brother as he spoke, you lazily smiled and placed an open mouth kiss on his lips. You couldn’t wait to finally marry the man you always loved.

With Jace’s convincing and his way with words, he had the support of Daemon who was on board with the betrothal, Rhaenyra had finally agreed, believing it was only right and fair since it was an marriage of love. You expressed your gratitude to your mother and step-father with a hug and immediately began to plan the wedding that had happened after only a few days of the betrothal. During your wedding night, you and Jace could not leave your chambers. For days that continued, you had not left your chambers, the entire island surely heard it all, day and night. Your younger brother, Luke, was disgusted whenever he walked past your chamber doors since you were always loud.

Before it was even a month in your new marriage, you fell pregnant with your brother’s child, no one was surprised but Rhaenyra was rather upset with Jace for impregnating you so young, though you were rather contented and had only wished this wouldn’t be the last pregnancy. After your first labor with your firstborn son, you promised Jace that you would bring him more children than Queen Alysanne ever could.

With the years going by, you were blessed with three children and another on the way. Aelor, Daenaera, and Rhaella. The children surely favorited both you and your husband’s looks, no one could say they weren’t Jacaerys’, they certainly had his dashing looks too. But once they all gotten older, becoming the age to start bonding with their dragons that hatched in their cradles, you became much more protective with them. Striking a knight who dared laid his hands on the future King’s heir and ordering knights to take him to the dungeon to be tortured before walking away in hand with your sweet son.

Your lover was rather grateful to know that you would never act so vulgar in front of your children, they all turned out to be very kind and genuine. Your sweet Aelor possessed a kind soul, never resulting to violence as answers during his lessons. Daenaera had a passion for becoming a warrior and was allowed to participate with in training lessons with Aelor and Joffrey. As for your little Rhaella, she usually stayed in your shadow, clinging to you wherever you went and liked to sleep in your shared bed with Jace.

You often spent your time by Jace’s side with the children occupying themselves with books or toys. Reading your favorite to the children, Aegon’s Conquest, while their father was translating old texts nearby. “With Aegon riding on the Black Dread, Balerion, his sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya, joined him by his side on Vhagar and Meraxes..” you read out loud to the children who huddled by your feet to sit and listen, you rubbed your growing stomach with affection. Everything seemed to be perfect, you all were spending time with one another. This was all you could have asked for.

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Guys I’m sorry I didn’t update young and beautiful I promise I will!! But I was just in the mood to make dark reader content cus there’s barely any and I love it when reader is dark than Jace 😭 but wow that was a lot I might do a part 2 later lol

For @a-anselina hi pookums🤭

[k1ttybones]

Suffocating

‣ pairing: Legolas x Maid/Healer!reader

‣ words: 1639

‣ content: basically childhood friends, unbalanced power dynamic, Legolas is a littleee jealous and petty (as in like… a lot), Legolas being too clingy and a little questionable, suggestive near the end, pleading men <3

──────────────────

‣ summary: Legolas had chosen you to be by his side from first glance. Even before he could wield a bow, he saw through your status and deemed your soul the same as his. However, his affection for you can be a bit… suffocating.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Legolas had claimed you before he even knew your name. Call it fate if you will, but something indescribable had seized him the moment you were presented to his father. Like a ripe fruit you had been plucked from your cozy orphanage and displayed in front of the king. At the time you were not sure why you were in this place, a grand castle decorated with exquisite, flourishing fauna and marble cleaned so well it glinted in the sunlight, yet the prince very well knew. A nobody you were— simply an Elven child of mixed blood who had been found abandoned in Mirkwood’s forests— yet your excellence had soon shown itself in your healing. With a few whispered prayers and hands delicately placed, a wound could vanish within minutes. This is why you were here.

Mirkwood was exceptionally skilled in archery, but what was gained in one area was lost in another. The kingdom had healers, like many, yet none that could heal a wound with their own hands. So it was a surprise that you, an unassuming child, had been blessed with the gift of life. It did not take a council to decide that your gift must be fostered and taken care of like the most delicate sprout.

Although your skill was doted on, you, however, were not. You were an elf of mixed blood— the classic story of a rebellious Elven man who had seduced a human woman before vanishing for The Undying Lands was not unique. The story between an elf and human royalty was one that was respectable, yet this was not yours.

Although your royal guidance was intended to help you grow in your healing abilities, it became increasingly obvious your current job was not to heal the innocent. Instead, you were frequently assigned the task of assisting the prince after his rebellious endeavors. From healing his scraped knee after he hurled himself off a tree to even pouring his tea, you were practically his maid at this point.

However, Legolas did not see it as this— you did a lot for him, yes, but he found himself frequently getting into trouble and calling upon your help purposefully, simply longing for your care and attention. He did not have many other young elves to involve himself with, and you were perfectly fine as company. He even admired you, in fact, especially as he watched you use your healing gift on him. You both were taught basic skills such as how to wield a bow and how to analyze Elvish texts, yet you were oftentimes dragged away for additional training in your healing. Times like these he wondered if he was too dependent on you.

And now the prince, far past his coming-of-age ceremony, still wondered the same as he scanned the halls for your presence. His boots could be heard clicking against the pristine floor from even a man on the other side of the castle as he paced the area. Elves from Rivendell had arrived to discuss matters on the group of dwarves headed to reclaim their home from Smaug, and you were nowhere to be seen. Embarrassed to make his affection for you so obvious, he excused his worry as simply making sure you were not late to greet the guests.

“Y/N! Y/N, where in Middle-Earth have you wandered off to now?” He shouted, perhaps to himself. The maids rushing down the hallway did not give him a mere glance. His worry for you was not only typical, but also a frequent point of gossip. He let out a loud sigh and turned, frustrated, finally giving up in his search. He would definitely receive a scolding from his father at this point. Perhaps it would be worth it if only to share the burden of being late between the two of you. He hurriedly retraced his trail to the entrance of the castle, hoping the guests would still be there, yet he abruptly stopped as laughter floated through the halls.

He peered around the wall and outside into the garden, which held the source of the sound, and scowled at the sight he saw. You and one of the Rivendell elves— pale-skinned with hair various shades of hickory, undoubtedly one of Elrond’s sons— sitting on a bench and chatting— No, flirting. It was obvious with the way he was leaning into you, your face lit with joy at the jokes he charismatically threw. The sight was enough to make Legolas seethe with jealousy.

“Y/N.”

The unexpected sound of your name prompts you to jump a bit before looking towards the blond elf. You smile at the familiar face. “Legolas! Where have you been? The guests are already seated.”

“Well, that I would not know. I have been looking for you since I noticed your absence,” Legolas makes his way towards the two of you, eyeing the dark-haired elf as if he were goblin trash. “I see you have acquainted yourself with one of our dear guests.”

You rub the back of your neck apologetically, oblivious to the stare-down happening between the two. “Ah, I apologize. I was at the entrance long before they arrived, although I should have noticed you beforehand to ease your worries.”

Legolas is the first to break the glare, quickly changing his expression to one more gentle, more suitable to one as pure of heart as you. He crouches down to provide you comfort. “Of course. My worry for you is natural, yet it’s nothing to burden yourself with. May I?” The Elven prince takes your hand and holds it firm before you can even respond, almost as if the other may rip you away.

“Yes, but—“ You begin to protest as you look back towards the Rivendell elf, but he is the one to speak next.

“No worries, it is time we all join each other in the dining hall.” He huffs, clearly defeated. It is the prince of the kingdom he is visiting, after all.

And with that, Legolas guides you with him to the dining hall. The other merely trails behind in surrender.

With the rest of the night, Legolas is strangely distant. As you make your rounds offering tea to each elf, Legolas holds his hand over his teacup without so much as a simple “No, thank you.” Instead of contributing to the council like a respectable prince, he stays oddly silent and tightens his jaw in what seems to be annoyance. After a considerable time of him being obviously troubled about something, you follow his incomprehensible glare across the lengthy table to the elf you were speaking to earlier. You observe from the sidelines, expecting his glare to waver, yet it lingers. The other elf just seems to uncomfortably avoid eye contact. Even Thranduil notices enough to make an occasional irritated side glance at his son.

You simply excuse it as a harmless quarrel between princes.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the moon exudes her care across the darkened kingdom, Legolas can not seem to quiet his mind as he lays down to rest. His eyebrows tense and his chest tightens at the image of the Rivendell elf practically courting you, and you enjoying it. The thought of you being carried away back to Rivendell by this elf seemed none other than a nightmare. And perhaps it was still possible— the Rivendell group had settled for staying in the guest chambers tonight— perhaps he was making his way to your chamber at this moment. He would knock on your door, gently, as to not startle you, the way Legolas had done so many times before— you would answer, dressed in silk, hair ruffled by your pillowy sheets. In a heartbeat he would confess his attraction from the moment he saw you. You would fall into his arms and he would hold you, softly, as if the dream could break. You both would join lips in a passion, and soon enough you would be his.

And soon enough Legolas is making his way to your door— not too far of a journey, considering your chambers are right next to each other. He pauses for a moment, and two, before he gathers the courage to lightly knock on the wooden door. He awaits your presence, a burning inside his core threatening to swallow him whole. As he waits, his mind trails to his previous nightmare. Perhaps he is too late, he thinks, perhaps this is a mistake—

And soon enough you are there, in front of him, dressed in silk and your hair ruffled from your pillowy sheets. He stands there for a moment, silent and flustered.

“Well?” You sigh sleepily, rubbing your eyes at your interrupted slumber, “Are you alright?”

He sighs. With eagerness or longing you cannot tell. “Tell me you do not want him.” He bluntly states, his mouth moving faster than his brain. He grips both sides of your doorway, leaning towards you, keeping himself from joining you into an embrace. You can see his knuckles nearly turn white.

Your eyes are wide now, confused. “Who— sorry?”

“The Rivendell elf. You do not want him. He is an adventurer, he knows no home. He is not right for you, I assure you, he knows nothing about you. You are just a pretty face to him, but I— I…” He pauses, gasps for air as if he has almost drowned, and completely stops at a loss for words.

You stare at him a moment, his eyes wild and pleading. From the soft gazes he’s given you when teaching you how to correctly hold a bow to the seething glare you saw from him last night, this is unlike anything you’ve seen.

“Legolas…” you begin, but words cannot fathom what you want to say. Instead you lift your hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his pointed ear, gazing at him with newfound vulnerability. The back of your hand trails down his neck before resting on his chest. “He is not the one I want.”

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ok dang it’s like 1 am now. anyway sorry for cutting it off so abruptly I was starting to cringe a little and I just couldn’t do it. also thinking about adding 2 more parts to this but idk if I’ll have the motivation 🤕

[asoiaffan]

Aemond Targaryen…who would henceforth be known as Aemond the Kinslayer to his foes…returned to King’s Landing, having won the support of Storm’s End for his brother Aegon, and the undying enmity of Queen Rhaenyra. If he thought to receive a hero’s welcome, he was disappointed. Queen Alicent went pale when she heard what he had done, crying, “Mother have mercy on us all.” Nor was Ser Otto pleased. “You only lost one eye,” he is reported to have said. “How could you be so blind?” The king himself did not share their concerns, however. Aegon II welcomed Prince Aemond home with a great feast, hailed him as “the true blood of the dragon,” and announced that he had made “a good beginning.” Fire & Blood

[katakaluptastrophy]

One thing that has me gnawing on the metaphorical drywall is that Abigail Pent apparently never learned just how awful Jod is.

There she is, in the River, murdered by one of god's fingers and gestures, having been invited to the First so that she could kill her husband and eat his soul and...she's triggering Harrow by exclaiming that "The King Over the River is good!" when she learns some people survived.

Having worked out that there is something fundamentally, practically, metaphysically wrong with the River she...just assumes poor old god doesn't know and could do with some Cliff Notes.

And then there's the battle with the Sleeper. She's hiding from a mad, gun-wielding ghost, her husband shot in the stomach on the other side of the room, and her carefully planned exorcism in pieces, and Ortus begins to recite the Noniad. And realising the impossible thing he wants her to do, Abigail - who pages earlier expressed her doubts about god's omnipotence, prays: “Oh, God... God, please help me” (which makes her the only character who isn't a literal priest or member of a religious order who we see praying).

When she describes her childhood bedroom to Harrow, everything she mentions sounds like something of significance to her: her grandfather's bones, her desk, the bed where her brother sometimes slept, and "a pretty chroma of the Prince Undying, but a little cockeyed." (think mass produced 1950s Sacred Heart picture and you're probably not far off...)

Despite having formative memories of having weird devotional art in her bedroom, Abigail is miles away from that other enjoyed of Jod pictures in their living space, Silas Octakiseron. She's open about her heterodox views, and clearly has the knowledge to back them up (including, it should be noted, at least one degree taken on the Eighth). And she clearly has form with going off on a heterodox tangent, as Magnus seems to have a well-rehearsed pattern for bringing her back to an acceptable line. And while she's happy to acknowledge that her views aren't orthodox, she's not being pointlessly controversial: she doesn't mind being a heretic, but she's rather upset by the idea that Marta might think her a mad one.

Marta, meanwhile, is one of several characters who show us that Abigail's intensity isn't just the result of living in a theocracy: “No. The Second House doesn’t overthink the River...If we did we’d just have to fill in forms.” Meanwhile, Ianthe is clearly thinking about dogma with an eye less to worship than replication.

And maybe it's because I know a lot of people who are devout but heterodox, and in relationships only tenuously accepted in their tradition (or only in their specific bit of the tradition)...but I just have a lot of feelings about Abigail here. Someone who's willing to be frank and informed about the complexities inherent in her belief system, but who seems to be committed to her faith. She seems so willing to think the best of Jod, to pray to him even when she's intellectually aware it may not be quite that straightforward and...he doesn't give a shit. He isn't god. He's a stupid little man who looks down on the humanities and I wish Abigail Pent got the chance to say something devastating to him.