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flowerandblood · 7 months ago

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The Fall from the Heavens (21)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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When she woke up in her chamber the sun was already slowly setting behind the walls of the Red Keep. She muttered under her breath in displeasure, twisting in her place, feeling discomfort in her lower abdomen and looked down, feeling a wave of disappointment and pain once again.

She sighed heavily, putting aside the already cold purse of water that had brought her great relief and allowed her to sleep for a few hours. Although she was distraught and terrified, the thought of her uncle's reaction and behaviour towards her made a warm, pleasant feeling spill over her heart.

She smiled involuntarily at the thought, wondering if he had just been at the Small Council meeting and would be back soon.

It wasn't long when the door to her chamber opened, and a moment later her husband walked in, pale, staring at her with wide-open eye.

Her heart pounded harder in horror at that look.

"We have received your mother's demands."

The word that she wanted to see her, to speak to her, and the fact that Aegon had agreed to it at the same time filled her with joy and horror.

She missed her and longed to hear her voice again, but she did not know what her mother was planning, what she hoped to hear from her lips.

What if she believed that her daughter had married her uncle just to survive?

That her affection for him was a lie and she would stab him in the back when she got the chance?

Her husband didn't seem pleased either as the affair became more and more complicated and there seemed to be no end to it all, no solution they could reach together.

On the second morning after King sent his response, a raven arrived in the Red Keep with word that her mother had agreed to the arrangements and would indeed be waiting with her husband in the Eyrie on the appointed day to speak to her daughter and her half-brother.

Her husband had no intention of spending a single night in the Eyrie, so he just acceded to his brother's suggestion and decided that the day before the agreed date they would travel to Harrenhal. She was not delighted with this idea, having heard many unflattering opinions about her father's brother.

Word had also reached her that a witch lived behind the walls of this grim fortress.

Still, she understood her husband's caution and anxiety, so she did not defy him, demanding something else in return.

"I will fly with you on Larax."

"No."

"If my mother sees that you did not allow me to fly on my own dragon she will not believe that anything that leaves my mouth was spoken of my own free will. She will see it as an excuse to believe that I still remain to you only a prisoner." She said impatiently; her husband turned his face towards the fire, sitting on one of the chairs at the table, licking his lower lip with his tongue in a nervous gesture, frustrated.

He did not reply.

She approached him slowly and knelt beside him on the cold stone floor, taking his hand in hers, placing a warm, tender kiss on it. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he had closed his eyelids, that he was losing the battle with himself.

"Please, husband. Give me this joy."

Though reluctant, her uncle finally gave her his wordless consent, but he remained silent throughout the evening and locked himself in his mind, tense.

It didn't help that she was still bleeding.

Not wishing to cause him any discomfort with an intimacy full of these disgusting fluids, she did not attempt to touch him, and he, apparently fearing that he might cause her pain in this state, also refrained from doing so.

The carriages filled with their belongings had long since left King's Landing when she and her uncle left the walls of the Red Keep.

She could see that he was pale, looking at her with his lips pressed together, unhappy and unsure whether he was making the right decision. He sighed heavily as she touched his cheek with her soft palm.

"I will join you in the sky soon, husband. I promise." She whispered and rose on her tiptoes, placing a moist, warm kiss on his cheek exactly as she had done that day, when he ran after her. Her husband hummed under his breath at her words and moved ahead, while she turned the other way, heading for the Dragon's Pit.

At the behest of her uncle, the servants who had been taking care of their dragons since their childhood led Larax into the main cave – her dragoness squealed loudly in despair at the sight of her, her sounds reminding her of the crying of a child.

She ran to her with tears in her eyes, feeling that the sight was breaking her heart.

She had been locked away for so long, terrified and imprisoned just as she was.

"Shijetra nyke, Larax. Shijetra nyke. Lykiri (Forgive me, Larax. Forgive me. Easy)." She mumbled, reaching out to her – her dragoness tilted her head and let her touch her, pushing against her chest, showing her how much she longed for her closeness.

As she climbed into her saddle again, as she again commanded her to move ahead, to take to the skies, and as the wind and speed blew her hair away, she felt a wonderful surge of adrenaline, freedom and happiness. She soared high into the sky, commanding her to fly in the right direction.

Larax let out a loud cry, terrified, wanting to escape, when suddenly Vhagar flew over her, her mighty wings causing a wave of air to hit them.

"Lykiri, Larax! Gaomagon sagon zūgagon daor! Sōvēs! (Calm down, Larax! Do not be afraid! Fly!)" She commanded, and after a moment she managed to regain control of her, heading after the great beast towards the fortress where her father had died.

Although she knew her husband was terrified at the prospect of letting her ride her own dragon, she noticed out of the corner of her eye his silhouette and his face staring back at her, from a distance she had the impression he was smiling.

She thought with a squeeze in her heart that he must have been dreaming of this moment since they were children.

Him and her, flying side by side on their dragons.

Exactly as it should be.

Thanks to the good weather, their several-hour journey turned out to be less tiresome than she thought it would be; she felt an immense ache in her muscles after a long break from flying as soon as they landed and she dismounted from her saddle anyway.

She had to wait for her husband, who had to land on Vhagar much further away so that no houses were destroyed, therefore she allowed herself to look around, feeling that her heart was pounding like mad.

"Your Grace. What a joy." She heard the voice of Larys Strong as he strode towards her through the gates of his fortress, leaning on his staff, followed by several guards and a woman who immediately caught her attention.

Her long, straight black hair, her bare shoulders, her full breasts, her slender figure and her eyes surrounded by her dark lashes, her irises having the colour of fresh, juicy grass.

She lowered her gaze, never having seen such a beautiful and mysterious woman before in her life, finally glancing at Lord Strong, realising she should say something in reply.

She had never trusted him or had a good opinion of him.

She believed he was responsible for her father's death and she didn't want to speak to him.

"My Lord Strong. Thank you for being willing to host us." She mumbled finally, forcing a warm smile, Larys Strong nodded. They all bowed as they spotted her husband approaching from the distance, his black leather coat and hair blown by the wind.

"My Prince."

"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters." Her uncle commanded him, his voice as hoarse and shaky as hers from the emotion they had both apparently experienced while flying.

Her uncle and Larys Strong walked through the gate first and she moved to follow them, the woman who stood beside him, whoever she was, strolled a few paces behind her, her pleasant scent reaching her nostrils.

Lavender and cloves.

"We have prepared for you, my Prince, the most magnificent quarters in the entire fortress. I have no use for it anyway; I would get tired climbing all those steps every day. Nearby we have prepared rooms for your wife, I assure you −"

"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." Her husband interrupted him, pulling his leather gloves from his hands, stepping inside the room, looking around with frustration and impatience.

Having been with him on a daily routine, accustomed to him conversing with her of his own accord, she had already forgotten how much he resented speaking to strangers for longer than necessary.

"As you wish, my Prince. However, I will leave the rooms I spoke of at your wife's disposal for her own convenience. I have also assigned her a servant to ensure that while we men are conversing, she will have company. There are several matters I would like to discuss with you."

She and her uncle cast quick, concerned glances at each other; her husband hit the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, furious.

She knew the expression on his face, knew he was only dreaming of rest, but they were his guests and he was not in a position to simply refuse him.

Lord Strong looked at her expectantly and her uncle nodded at her, albeit reluctantly, to leave them alone. The woman standing beside her raised her hand and indicated with a gesture where they were to go, so she set off in that direction.

The chamber her father's brother had assigned her was smaller and more modest than that of her husband's, but it had a more pleasant view from the window, straight over the forest and the clearing where her dragoness slept.

She involuntarily smiled under her breath as she pressed her palm against the glass, seeing Larax, forgetting for a moment that she was not alone.

"Do you desire to change into something…more comfortable, Your Grace?" She heard a low, melodious, pleasant female voice behind her. She looked up at her and nodded.

"Yes. What do they call you?" She asked uncertainly. The woman smiled, looking at her calmly.

"Alys, Your Grace."

An awkward silence fell between them for a moment.

"I would not wish to… misunderstand who you are and what you have in common with Lord Strong, Alys." She said after a moment; the woman burst into a hearty, light laugh and shook her head.

"I am not his mistress. I am his relative, though I do not bear his name, as any bastard would." She replied softly, her voice gentle and full of understanding, as if she were speaking to a small child. She blinked, shocked by her words, her question leaving her lips before she had time to think what she was saying.

"Did you know my father?"

The woman looked at her for a moment before she nodded.

"Yes, Your Grace."

She felt her hand clench into a fist, her heart starting to beat like mad.

"His death wasn't an unfortunate ordeal, was it?" She asked in a trembling voice, the corner of the woman's mouth lifting in a grin.

"There are no such thing as unfortunate ordeals, Princess."

She left her enigmatic response unanswered, both intrigued and terrified of her at the same time; it seemed to her that the gaze of her luscious green eyes pierced her to the core.

"After the word has reached us here all the way from King's Landing, I have been looking forward to our meeting with impatience, and while I will admit that it is not what I expected, I am beginning to understand your husband's desperation." She spoke again with a hint of amusement from which she felt uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her words.

"What do you mean?" She muttered uneasily; the woman's gaze swept over her figure, as if assessing what she saw before her and combining it with her own conclusions in her head.

"Men are easily driven to desperation, though it usually takes time. They like to gain and take pride in what they have conquered; the greater, in their mind, the value of what they enclose in their embrace, the less they are willing to let it go." She said in a light, low, slightly dreamy voice, looking somewhere to the side, intertwining her hands in front of her.

"Your husband follows you with his thoughts even when he is not looking at you. His head, even when he is not speaking to you, is directed towards you so that he can see you out of the corner of his eye. When he feels discomfort, he involuntarily seeks your face to experience understanding and comfort."

She stared at her in disbelief, wondering if she had been able to see such a thing being in their company for just a moment, unable to hide how pleased her words made her.

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her heart pounding like mad.

Alys helped her change into one of the gowns that had arrived in Harrenhal in the chests before them, her long, graceful fingers entwining her dark, long hair into an intricate bun of many braids surrounding her head.

She had never had a similar hairstyle before and she liked it very much.

Alys escorted her to the chamber where her husband and Lord Strong had just eaten supper, then bowed and left, leaving them alone. Her husband looked at her intently as she sat beside him at the table with a smile, Larys Strong cast her a look full of curiosity.

"Beautiful hairstyle, Your Grace." He said softly, but she felt a sense of discomfort instead of gratitude, which, however, she did not give vent to in any way. She looked at her uncle, for some reason emboldened by the woman's words.

"And you, my husband? What do you think?" She asked softly, her uncle throwing her a calm, impassive look.

"I prefer it when your hair is loose." He merely replied, reaching for his goblet full of wine, taking a loud sip from it, setting it down on the table with a loud clinking of steel.

She felt like a silly little girl and lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her throat as an awkward silence fell around them.

What had crossed her mind to ask such foolishness?

Did he think she asked it out of vanity?

It seemed to her that her uncle regretted the coldness in which he had expressed his opinion, for before she left to prepare for sleep he reminded her that immediately when she had finished she was to appear in his chamber.

She nodded her head at his words and pressed her lips together, only in the corridor letting a few regretful, embarrassed tears run down her face.

How could she take it so personally, expect empty compliments from him when she knew perfectly well that he loathed it?

As she stepped into her chamber she asked one of the servants to summon Alys, wanting her to help her take off her gown and to prepare her hot bath.

She had no intention of going to her husband after hours of travelling on a dragon all sticky from sweat and exertion.

Alys walked into her room with a smile and bowed, approaching her, seeing that she herself had already begun to untie her bodice.

"Was the Prince pleased with his wife's appearance, Your Grace?" She asked softly, and she swallowed quietly and sighed, lowering her gaze.

"Yes. Though he expressed his opinion that he prefers it when my hair is loose." She said resignedly, as if she had failed in some way by not meeting his expectations.

"Oh, that's understandable. He surely associates it with your intimacy and closeness, as any man would. The entwined curls and braids are for those around you, meanwhile the softness of your hair, the smell of them, the sight of them spread on the bed is something meant only for him." She replied lightly, as if she were speaking of something completely obvious and natural. She blinked, feeling that somehow her words comforted her.

"You know a lot about men…don't you?" She mumbled uncertainly, meeting her gaze in her reflection in the mirror, from which a shiver ran along her spine.

"Yes, Princess."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding hard at the thought.

"Have you seduced many yet?" She asked at last; the woman involuntarily giggled under her breath, finally releasing her from her gown, which fell lightly to the stone floor, leaving her in her white night gown.

Thankfully, her bleeding had almost stopped.

"Yes." She said with amusement, taking her garment in her hands and placing it gently back in one of the chests, being careful not to crumple it as she meanwhile stepped into the bath and sat in it with a sigh of relief, sinking into the hot water.

"I would like to … make my husband happy tonight. I know he needs relief from what's about to happen tomorrow. However, I can't do it, at least for now, in the way I usually do." She mumbled embarrassedly, trailing her fingers along the edge of the tub, not daring to look at her in fear that the woman would mock her.

"The easiest thing to do in that case would be for you to use your mouth." She replied with amusement, and she raised her eyes at her, shocked.

Although her husband had sunk his face between her thighs on several occasions just as he had the first night after her return to King's Landing, he had never expected her to reciprocate.

Before she could suggest anything he thrusted his manhood deep between her moist folds anyway.

The truth, however, was that even if she wanted to do it, she didn't know how.

"I'm…inexperienced in these matters." She confessed with shame, looking at her uncertainly, a smile on her face that she might have considered warm.

"I see." She murmured, approaching her slowly, startling her completely as she knelt beside her tub, gently grasping her wrist in her hand. "I can show you how you should do it, if that's what you wish, Your Grace."

She swallowed hard, feeling butterflies in her stomach and excitement, she licked her lower lip feeling it dry up with emotion.

"…How?"

Alys smiled, leaning towards her hand – she shuddered when her lips gently touched her finger, wondering with a fast beating heart what she was doing.

"Imagine that this is his manhood. Men don't say it out loud because pride won't let them, but they adore it when a woman showers them with gentle, tender caresses." She cooed as she closed her eyelids, running her full, moist lips up and down her pointing finger, leaving a wet trail of her saliva on it.

She looked at this sight as if enchanted, feeling an involuntary throbbing inside her imagining that she had knelt before her uncle and touched him like this.

She drew in air loudly, feeling a pleasant shiver run down her spine as the woman slipped the tip of her finger gently into her mouth, teasing it with her wet, fleshy tongue; she sighed helplessly feeling her nipples become hard, her walls clenching around nothing.

"− and then − when he begins breathing faster − when you feel he's completely ready −" She gasped softly between the brushes of her lips and suddenly slipped her whole finger into her mouth, starting to suck it unhurriedly with a quiet click of her saliva.

She didn't even notice when she began to breathe through her mouth, when her thighs clenched involuntarily under the water, seeking any kind of release of the tension that was building up inside her.

There was something so lewd and inappropriate about what she was seeing and feeling that she felt like a moan was about to come out of her throat.

She shuddered as Alys suddenly opened her eyes − a misty darkness in the green of her irises that she had often seen in her husband's gaze, her lips released her finger with a quiet click.

"− you pretty little thing − it's usually him taking care of you, isn't it? − he can't deny himself − I can't blame him −" She whispered, and she felt heat in her lower abdomen, her walls clenching greedily around nothing.

They both flinched as the door to her chamber suddenly opened, Alys stood up quickly and bowed, closing her eyes.

"My Prince."

"− get out −" She heard her husband's warning growl; she turned over her shoulder, looking at him with wide eyes, all red, breathing loudly through her mouth, looking shocked as the woman immediately left her quarters.

"− what is the meaning of this? − hm? −" He asked furiously standing over the tub as soon as the door closed behind her, fury in his eyes.

She couldn't find any meaningful answer in her head, her mind was completely blank.

Her uncle pressed his lips together in impatience, apparently trying not to explode.

"− can't I leave you alone even for a fucking moment? −" He hissed, and she shook her head, looking at him pleadingly.

"− I − I asked her for help −"

"− help with what, that she had to kneel beside you and hold your hand? − you are fucking bare −"

"− I − I can't tell you, it's embarrassing −"

"− gods, I swear I'm about to rip you to shreds −"

"− we were discussing embarrassing feminine matters − she showed me something…important − for you too −" She muttered, his jaw clenched in displeasure.

He didn't believe her.

"− I want to know what this brazen whore was doing to my wife −" He growled with an impatience so strong that she knew that if she didn't give him the answer he expected, her uncle was really about to explode and would surely knock her out along with her tub on the floor.

"− very well − I − I will try to show it to you − just − just don't get upset and sit on the bed −" She mumbled pleadingly, looking at him with her big eyes.

She saw that at her words his anger began to slowly fade, giving place to a slight intrigue in his gaze.

He hummed low and took a few steps back, as she requested, sitting down on her bed, looking at her watchfully.

She swallowed hard, rising from the tub with a loud splash of water, walking slowly out of the bath. He blinked, surprised when she sat on the floor in front of him, but with her back to him, reaching for the pins woven into her hair.

"− you have to help me, because I won't be able to do it myself until morning −" She muttered in displeasure, all heated up from the hot water her body had just been submerged in, her nightgown all soaked, clinging to her naked skin.

She heard her husband sigh heavily, leaning over her with a loud creak of the bed, sliding the pins out of her hairstyle, making the curls of her hair start to fall over her shoulders.

"− it was her idea too, wasn't it? −" He sneered disapprovingly and she let the air out of her lungs, tired.

"− I really liked the way I looked −" She burbled resentfully; she heard his heavy sigh again, however this time he answered nothing more.

When her hair was finally completely loose she turned to face him, already visibly calmer, his hand involuntarily went to her cheek, his thumb running over her soft skin.

His pupil narrowed as her fingers unfastened the buckles of his tunic and reached into the ties of his breeches, she felt his bulge beneath her palms throbbing hard.

"− what are you doing? −" He muttered uncertainly, coolly, as if terrified of what he had just imagined.

"− I want to kiss you there with my lips − are you repelled by the thought? −" She asked softly, releasing his swollen, half-hard erection, feeling him shudder as she grasped it gently in her hand, guiding it to her face.

"− what? – no − b-but − I − oh −" He gasped as she ran her lips over the pink head of his cock with a rapidly pounding heart; she felt satisfaction when his length twitched aggressively in her embrace.

She knew he wanted to say more as his mouth remained open, but he simply stared at her, breathing loudly, his thumb gently stroking her cheek as she mimicked Alys's cues by running her lips from the root of his manhood to the very tip of it.

She heard him sigh in pleasure, closing his eyes for a moment, his hips involuntarily began to buck, pressing his already fully hard erection closer to her face, searching for any source of friction.

"− this − this is what she showed you? − hm? −" He gasped, as if he was simultaneously thrilled and enraged by this vision.

Not wanting him to think about it too much she used her tongue, running it up to the very top of the head of his cock, feeling the veins under his skin clearly, a low, hoarse groan stuck in his throat, his hand tightening in her hair.

"− fuck − g-gods −" He muttered in a trembling voice, his breathing increasingly shaky and accelerated – she knew he was aroused, and his sounds made her feel that unbearable, intense tickling and pulsing between her thighs again.

She was wet.

In some subconscious instinct, his hand tentatively guided the pink, swollen head of his cock against her lips, and she parted them, letting him slide between them with a loud sigh of pleasure.

"− squeeze − squeeze with your hand what doesn't fit inside − and suck − oh, yes, little one, just like that −" He exhaled delighted tilting his head back as she let him deep into her palate, his tip bumping again and again with the sure thrusts of his hips against the back wall of her throat causing her to gag, tears of exertion pooling in her eyes.

"− if this is too much − hit me twice on the thigh −" He gasped, looking down at her, and she merely nodded, clamping her hand over the base of his hard length, sucking it slowly with a loud click of her saliva.

She reminded herself about her tongue and what Alys was doing with it, so she made use of it, and every time her husband thrust his erection into her its tip teased and licked him; his two hands tightened in her hair with his low groan, quickening his pace.

"− oh − oh, fuck, little one − mghm − gods −" He panted, invading her throat with deep, fast pushes, making use of her mouth as he saw fit, a high-pitched moan erupted from her lungs as she felt him aggressively pulsing between her lips, breathing hard through her nose, trying not to suffocate.

"− I know − please, please, let me − oh, fuck, yes, swallow it, swallow, swallow, swallow −" He commanded in a shuddering gasp full of pleasure and relief. She squirmed as his hot, sticky seed spilled down her palate straight into her throat; she swallowed some of it with difficulty and coughed, trying not to choke, a pearly trickle of his spend ran off the corner of her mouth down her chin.

Good gods.

They were both panting loudly and quivering, his face pressed against her hair, on which he still clamped his fingers, not letting her escape.

"− just a moment more − please, just a moment more − so warm −" He mumbled, and she swallowed hard, breathing loudly through her nose with his half soft length deep in her throat. It seemed to her for a moment that he might have fallen asleep in that position, but eventually he took pity on her and slid out of her mouth, allowing her to take a deep breath.

She involuntarily put her arms around his knee, exhausted, hugging her face to his thigh, breathing hard, not believing she had really done it.

Her womanhood pulsed all over, her thighs were all sticky from her moisture.

She sighed in relief when she felt his large hand begin to stroke her hair with a tender, calm gesture, his breathing still erratic and accelerated.

"− come − come here − your husband need to take care of you −"

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mapleaves · 7 months ago

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25 Days of Agere Moodboards Day 6: A character you headcanon as a regressor

to everyones shock and dismay Rabbit appears in my posts again <3 im obsessed with him sorry. headcanons below the cut

one two three / four five six / seven eight nine

💭 please dni if nsfw (including ddlg/abdl/etc.)

Headcanons:

I actually think Rabbit both regresses and is a cg!!

Very fussy during regression, but not in the sense that he wants to be babied as much as he wants things kept how he left them when he was big. He's very particular about his home, and he will NOT abide by any messes just because he's small!!

If he had a tv he'd be one of those toddlers who screams at the tv like NOOO ELMO THE HAT DOES NOT GO ON YOUR FOOT!!!!

But on that note, he can be very very silly. It's a lot like when he's big - he'll pout and glare about it at first but with the right tricks you can have him giggling and happy

When he starts to have fun, he gets REALLY into it. Think of that episode in New Adventures where he dresses up as a wizard - if he gets too wrapped up in a game he has to be redirected eventually or he'll never get any rest (and neither will his cgs)

Loves picking flowers with his cg and bringing a plushie out to his garden to show off his plants - as long as they bring a blanket so nothing gets dirty 🙃

Gets worked up really easily, especially if he thinks he's made a mistake and starts beating himself up, or if he's especially overwhelmed

Sometimes he just seems especially anxious or grumpy, but you can usually tell he's getting small when he starts stumbling over his words really badly, going quiet, fidgeting a lot, gnawing on his thumb or getting clingy, etc

World's #1 napping fan

Sometimes tries to force himself to be big when he really needs to regress - he has to be reminded its okay to be small because he puts to much pressure on himself to keep things in order

He won't usually initiate physical contact, but if he's upset a blanket, a warm drink, and some quiet cuddling can help calm him down

Main cg is Tigger, and sometimes they end up regressing together, though Rabbit is more in the toddler-young kid range whereas Tigger is more of a big brother type

#🍁#25ageremoodboards #agere #safe agere #age regression #agere moodboard #agere headcanons #wtp agere #winnie the pooh agere #fandom agere #rabbit agere

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ilys00ga · 2 months ago

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𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

(PROLOGUE) → FIRST CHAPTER

: ̗̀➛ synopsis: you're in the wind, I'm in the water.. somebody's son, somebody's daughter..

OR: Sirens and humans were made to be at war with one another. To sear their deadly bond, not with love, not with wealth, not with rules and restrictions... but with flowing blood and torn flesh. That's what history says. That's what's bound to be.

: ̗̀➛ pair: yoongi x f reader/oc.

: ̗̀➛ tags: mute human!yoongi, half siren half human!reader, reader is obsessed (almost yandere-ish (we'll see as the story progresses)), forbidden love and relationships, middle ages/old times era theme, supernatural, slow burn, strangers to lovers (?), fluff, angst, bloody or dark themes. more tags could be added eventually.

: ̗̀➛ note: hi :) finally decided to post this! first off, I know first-person povs are somewhat "controversial" in the fanfic community, BUT please give this one a read, and I hope you will have a fun ride! second, I know this prologue is longer than it should be (?) but I had a certain idea in mind, so, who cares if it was long af, right? enjoy! I hope u like it.

★ MOODBOARD.

★ MASTERLIST.

PART ONE:

It was in the middle of a bright, warm spring day that I found the moon reading on a boat.

That day, I took the risk and sneaked Aftreen—my well-trusted and loyal maid—up to my favorite spot.

The first whispers of the fresh air brushed against our skins, and I smiled at the lovely memories it brought along with it.

And oh, how I missed those precious, precious old days.

We hid behind a large, isolated sea stack perched somewhere close to the coast line, but still far enough from the danger that a small distance could bring to the two of us.

“This is as far as we can go. Hurry up, Afreen.” I warned and watched as Afreen was comfortable in climbing the huge rock, eager to get a better view of the island awaiting beyond it.

“Woah, Your highness…” She gasped, a smile stretching her mouth. “Is that it, you highness? your village?”

I hummed in response, my mind elsewhere. She was marveling at the sight of the golden sand and the life of the village sitting at the edge of the island, while my eyes were stuck on the sight of him.

He with his arms crossed to his chest and his eyes fixed on what seemed to be a book he had on his lap, floating on a boat behind the huge rock. His hair dark and grown, its tips brushing against his broad shoulders as it danced with the gentle wind.

Calm, graceful, pale. I blinked. He glowed under the basking sunlight. So lost in his book that he didn't pay attention to anything else around himself—much less being in the presence of a siren princess and her siren maid propped on a huge rock not so far away from where he sat.

I always loved watching the moon, and I always envied the lucky stars to be in the presence of such a creation crowning the night sky. I wasn’t aware that the heavens were kind enough to put one wandering the earth for me to find.

“Afreen, get down.” I ordered, my voice hushed and stern.

Her lower lip jutted out in a slight pout, but she wordlessly obeyed and jumped off of her spot at the top of the stack and into the water daintily.

The dive made an audible splash echo through the air around us. I swiftly hid myself behind the rock right as the human's head jerked up, a soft gasp slipped me unconsciously.

Afreen didn't emerge again. I took the chance to peek over the stack and steal another glimpse of the stranger.

He wasn't reading anymore. He moved to handle the sail of his boat instead. The thought of him leaving spread a sour feeling in my chest.

The siren inside of me growled, urging me to swim to that boat myself, but I fought against it. I knew better than that. I wasn't supposed to be out there in the first place.

Yet, I could feel it. And I couldn't blame her on it. He looked so inviting to her. She was eager to see how his skin would look underwater, if I were to yank and take him deep, deep into the ocean with me. How he would feel against my skin if I were to trace his features with my thumb and caress his hair with my palms. How his face would twist if I were to card my fingers into his dark locks and pull them hard, or if I were to hold on his jaw in a tight grip and watch him writhe before me, searching to reach the surface and breathe some air into his weak, human lungs before his soul is put to rest between my arms. How my piercing fangs would feel if I were to—

I felt a persistent tug at my tail. Then, it was Afreen who popped up from underneath the water beside me.

“Your highness, what's taking you so long?” She asked.

I quickly brushed her curiosity off with a shake of my head, then led her deep into the saltwater again.

Every time I met the other moon after that, I'd talk to her about him. About how he looked more entrancing than any human I have ever laid my eyes on. About how he was more delicate and beautiful than she could ever, ever be.

About how I wish I could see him again, even for one, only and last time..

PART TWO:

A dark night sky, a tilted crescent and a pitch black ocean. Darkness cradled the four boats as they glided their way across the ocean, but their lanterns guided them towards their destination.

On each boat were three ruthless and tired sailors. Their journey almost reached its end as they approached Dogon Island.

A small boy that looked to be in his twelfth or thirteenth summer accompanied his father—after much begging pouts and determined promises—on this particular one.

While the adults were lounging on their vessels, the kid was leaning over the gunwale, watching his own reflection in the water with an intense gaze. His eyes soon perched up when he noticed a faint ripple in the image. He turned his head to glance at his father, only to find him sipping on rum, completely unaware. He darted his eyes towards the other two sailors still lounging on the other side of the boat, just as unaware as the previous one, then back to his own reflection again.

Some moments passed like that. The waves calm and steady, the wind gentle and crisp. Until all four boats started rocking from side to side in gentle motions. As if the ocean was soothing them onto the unpreventable.

The father put his rum down, a faint smile adorning his face for a brief moment, before it melted into a neutral frown as he stood up tall.

Everyone was up on their feet. Everyone looked around, alert. All except for the kid, who's hands were still holding onto the gunwale before him.

The rocking halted. A pair of hands gripped the wood right in front of the young boy. Then, it was a dark pair of eyes that locked with his youthful ones.

A soft gasp slipped his mouth at the angelic creature that came face to face with him, her wet skin bathed in the lantern lights.

He waited for her to move, like his father had told him she would, but she didn't. She just ogled back at him, her eyes carrying a baggage his young brain was unable to recognize.

More sirens rose and clung around the four boats. Each more breathtaking than the ones before.

Their lips parted as they hummed their songs to the men above the water, beckoning them closer and closer, right into their embraces.

The father held his son's shoulders and led him to the center of the vessel, his eyes not once leaving the siren at their boat. Then, he slowly approached her, bringing one knee down in front of her in complete devotion.

Without hesitation, her arms stretched out to cup the man's face in her hands. Closer and closer, she leaned her upper body forward, their noses almost nuzzled together. A wicked, yet faint smile appeared on her face when she felt the sailor's arms wrapping around her in response, pulling her towards the male.

Her deadly song was cut off with a loud, piercing shriek that erupted from her throat instead. The sailor pushed his dagger deeper and deeper into her writhing back.

Several shrieks and shouts erupted all over the area within an instant. The boats quivered violently. The small boy screamed and stumbled to the bottom of the vessel, trying desperately to hold onto something and not fall right into the freezing, salty water.

Hungry humans stabbed sharp tools into inhuman flesh. Angry sirens fought back in desperation after their feast attempt had come to be a dooming failure. And as history said and told, hundreds and millions of times all across the stars, siren blood had, once again, covered the wood and flowed into the ocean.

Victorious grins split the sailors’ faces as they pulled the small pieces of beeswax out of their ears. The father raised his rum flask in the air, keeping a firm grip on his son's shoulder as he stood next to him, and bellowed to the open ocean: “To the kingdom!”

The other men seared the victory in loud and proud roars, with blood dripping from their lethal knives as they rose them to the air, and lifeless sirens gathered on each of the four boats.

#yoongi #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #bts scenarios #yoongi angst #yoongi icons #suga fluff #suga angst #suga fic #bts suga #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts army

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eeunoia · 6 months ago

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ENHYPEN Imagines

insolitus | yjw.

part two

pairings: yang jungwon x reader

synopsis: you’ve always thought jungwon is out of this world, out of ordinary. he’s someone who seems familiar but at the same time mysterious for almost everybody. you didn’t expect that he himself will unfold more of him with you and it was an insolitus experience.

word count: 3k

warnings: yandere themes, mention of murder, violence, obsessive love, grammatical errors, kissing. (let me know if i missed some)

note: this is the part two of our insolitus. i suggest you read the first one before this. you can find it here › part one. thank you for waiting. leave some replies and reblog this post. i would really appreciate it. send me some asks! ily & stay safe. look out for part three.

fic moodboard › here

“Are you stupid?! We had a plan, Jungwon! Why did you impulsively made a decision by yourself?!” his hyung quickly took a hold of his collar, jaw clenched and eyes enraged.

One of their friends came closer and placed a hand over Heeseung’s shoulder to stop him from doing something towards Jungwon. The younger one doesn’t seem fazed about it. His eyes remained blank and he’s very much relaxed despite the situation.

It wasn’t new to his friends. This is how he normally react on things. Jungwon’s usually calm and precise. He’s very reserved and doesn’t react aggressively.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t caught.” he stated calmly that pisses his hyung even more.

Heeseng’s jaw clenched hardly. “And that’s suppose to make things better? Jungwon you were interrogated at the police station. If it weren’t for your Father’s influence, you’d be in juvie right now!” he couldn’t help for his voice to raise due to so much anger for the younger one's bold move.

He was really upset and seeing Jungwon reacting so calmly triggers something in him even more. Jungwon tilts his head slightly and smirks.

“Are you worried that I was almost caught or you’re scared that this may affect negatively on your plan from getting your girl, hyung?”

Heeseung was caught off-guard, but he didn’t let it show on his face. He kept his stern look and his hold over his collar. Jungwon scoffs before shoving his hold off from him then he raised his chin up, unbothered.

“You’re making a mess on my uniform.” he stated before putting his hands inside his pockets.

Heeseung’s jaw clenched harder and was about to take advance, but he was stopped by Jay and Sunghoon. Their other friends remained silent while watching them argue.

People will probably go ferral if they heard what kind of thoughts they have. They will probably be put straight to a mental facility if someone else knew about their dark plans. It all started by harmless attraction towards their special someone. They didn’t even realized how it escalated into something like this.

They have the power and money so things can be a lot easier for them. It isn’t a big town, so influence and money have big impacts over the flow of life the people living here. They used it to their advantage into fulfilling their plans. Into getting what they want.

“My plan worked. I just messed the order, but we can just resume to how it used to be. Right after y/n, you can finally take your girl.” Jungwon said referring towards Heeseung.

“And you think they won’t be suspicious of people missing one after another? It’s a small town! Almost everyone here knows everybody.”

“Heeseung hyung’s right, Won. Not to mention that you murdered someone. That’s not on the plan.” Jake.

“The world will rotate just fine even if he’s gone.” his friends couldn’t believe they’re hearing these words from Jungwon. The very same guy who people see as a model student, someone very responsible and very kind.

His Father’s a public servant so it’s just natural for him to be helpful to everyone around him. People in their right minds won’t ever think of him to be having this kind of thoughts.

“Jungwon, we have to delay our plans because y/n’s parents will probably look for her. We cannot just continue or else it will raise concern to people of the town. It will be more difficult moving onto our next plan.” Jake tries to make him understand as much as possible.

Finally, Jungwon seems to take in his hyung’s words well. He sighs and nods his head.

“I will check and see what I can do so the public won’t get suspicious about it.” he glances at his friends one by one and they’re looking at him seriously. Some reflects worry.

“Don’t worry about the police interrogation as well, my Father made sure that it will not come out on public.”

They all nod their heads except from Heeseung and was left with no choice but to start replanning once again. After-all, there’s no point on getting mad at him since it was already done. What they can do is to keep an eye on Jungwon after they witnessed what he’s capable of. It is a bit alarming, but they cannot do anything about it as of the moment.

They all decided to go on with their day as usual, like as if they didn’t just almost beat each other out.

“May I excuse Mr. Yang, Miss Lim.” everyone in the class whipped their heads at the door when their principal entered.

Their teacher nodded her head and asked Jungwon to excuse himself. He stood up confidently and bows politely once to their teacher before following their principal outside their classroom.

Jake eyes Heeseung worriedly. They’re wondering why he was called outside. Did the school perhaps discovered his involvement about the incident? Hopefully not.

Jungwon eyed your Mother as the principal tries to comfort her. Your Father is beside his beloved wife, caressing her arm and whispering things such as ‘It's okay' or 'We’re going to find her'

He wanted to scoff and tell to their faces that there is no way that they will find you. He wants to laugh at how devastated they look right now. But instead of doing that, he showed a look of empathy.

“This is Yang Jungwon, the president of our Student Council. He will help with the volunteers for the search of your daughter. We will also put up signs and her pictures all over the town so more people will be aware.” the principal informed them.

He saw how hope ignites over their eyes at the sight of Jungwon. He bows and as his face is not visible to their eyes, a smirk plastered over his handsome face.

“I’m Yang Jungwon, Mr and Mrs (Surname). I will do my best to help searching for your daughter.” to his surprise, your Mother took a hold of his hand. Her crying eyes seems so familiar for me and just later on he will realize that it reminds him of you.

The very same look she has reminds him of your crying eyes while you beg him to let you go. Jungwon almost scoffs at the memory. Something about you begging to him just makes him so excited. Boost his pride and stroke his ego.

“My Father is also the governor and I will surely ask for his assistance for this case.” he added and the joy over your parents eyes just got even more intense.

They couldn’t believe how kind this young man is, not knowing that he’s actually the mastermind to your disappearance. Jungwon gently caress your Mother’s back to calm her down. He felt so evil trying to comfort her when he knows very well he was the reason for their pain. It gives him so much power. He felt like they were under him, powerless.

“What did the principal said?” Jake was eager to know what happened when Jungwon was excused.

Jungwon smiles and put his hand inside his pocket. “Nothing to worry. They just want us to hold a meeting to let everyone know about her disappearance.”

He can almost see the relief through his eyes. The other boys just watch silently. Heeseung pursed his lips and didn’t say anything else. He’s still a little mad for how impulsive his friend acted. They’re just lucky he didn’t ruin so much of their plans.

Sounds of multiple things breaking echoes through the hallway of the Yang’s mansion. It was almost 9 pm and the whole house are like usual. Quiet. Except from the sound of another thing, getting broken.

“Go away! Leave me the fuck alone!” your screams are loud and there’s no doubt that it will hurt your throat.

Tears streams down your face while the people from that house kept their distance, trying not to trigger any more of your emotions. They’re just trying to feed you when you suddenly starting acting this way.

A week being abducted by Jungwon felt like a year already. Time is so slow, the fear of what’s he’s about to do occupies your mind all the time, the punishment he sets whenever you disobey him and you missed your family already.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone, including you, stops and heads turned to look over the newly arrived Yang Jungwon. His placid expression as he roams his eyes around the whole room made your knees weak. It was obvious that he’s unhappy about it. Probably not because you broke vases and things that cost so much, but because you are once again disobeying his orders.

He’s been somewhere, volunteering to help your poor parents to look for you. They’re just so pitiful and Jungwon’s the very nice boy and responsible president of the student council. His father even sent people to assist every volunteer, provided free food and water. Your family, friends and even schoolmates went around the town to search for you.

Without even knowing that the one who took her was with them, a ghost of smile spreads his face while thinking how stupid every one of them. The true wolf under the sheep skin.

Your eyes shakes in fear at the sight of Jungwon. He’s wearing a plain white shirt that emphasize his broad shoulders and a sweatpants. His hair’s not properly brushed like how he do it whenever he goes to school. Right now, he really do look a normal boy. Except, he isn’t normal at all.

“S-She started to get out of hand and breaking everything, Sir.” despite being years older than Jungwon, he fears him. Just indicates how much power he holds.

He glanced at him and the man lowers his head, hands hardly pressed together.

“Leave us alone.” he demanded that made your soul left your body.

He is scary while having all these people around. What more if you two are left alone? Panic went into your system at the sight of them leaving the room, trying to gather some pieces of the things you broke.

You scurry and tried to stop one of them from leaving or maybe leave this room together. But Jungwon uses one of his arm to halt your steps, wrapping it around your waist and without so much effort he hold you still.

“N-No, d-don’t leave me!” you screamed, your eyes brim with tears. Even how much you try to escape from his hold, it was no use. He’s so much stronger.

“Don’t piss me off, y/n.” his low tone sent shivers to your spine.

For the past days you are with him, there are things you noticed about Jungwon. He’s not that patient, he do tries to be but then suddenly snap once you push his buttons continuously. His eyes softens while staring at you, but if you say things he doesn’t like they turn dark. And its terrifying.

“Let me go! Let me fucking go!” you screamed through your lungs.

“What did I say about shouting?” he asks in a strict tone that slightly made you anxious.

You gulped and kept your glares shooting at him. “Fuck you.”

He clenches his jaw hardly and hold both of your wrist before lightly pushing you towards the bed. His action made you sat over the soft mattress of your bed. With tear stained eyes, you glared at him. He stared down at you before going to get your food that was settled by the corner table.

Your eyes follows him silently, glares almost digging holes at the back of his head.

“You need to eat.” he doesn’t sound mad, but he definitely not pleased as well.

With one hand carrying the tray of food and the other slipping inside his pocket, he struts his way towards you. You lift your chin, hiding your fear behind the teary eyes and trying your best to look brave in front of him.

Even if you know that one touch from him, and you’ll crumble in fear. One look with those eyes and you will feel weak.

When he was near enough, you pushed the tray and it wasn’t long until all of its contents scattered all over the floor. His eyes follows it down the floor before he jaw clenched harder and hand clenches into fists.

“I said I don’t want to! I want to go home! Leave me alone! I hate you! I fucking hate you!” you scream towards him then stood up to hit him by his chest.

Jungwon stood still and unbothered by your action. He stared down with dangerous eyes as he let you do it to him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he swiftly grabbed your wrist and pressed you over the near wall.

You yelped and groaned, feeling hurt when your back came in contact to the hard surface. He doesn’t seem bothered even after you winced in pain.

One of his hand rests over your hip while the other raised to hold your neck. His pretty slim fingers wrapped over it, putting pressure on it enough to limit your oxygen. Your eyes waters even more in fear and slight depravation to breath properly.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

The memory of him stabbing (ex boyfriend) multiple times with no remorse in his eyes flashes back your mind. It was terrifying and you can feel all your nerves shaking. His eyes bore into you, and stared right straight to your eyes.

You whimpered and tried to escape from him, but he didn’t even budged.

“It will be a lot easier if you just obey me,” he murmured under his breath. He was too close that it fan your skin, making you shiver.

You tried catching your breath and calming your mind. Slowly, you stopped resisting and you held on his arm that was slightly choking you. Jungwon’s pretty eyes follows your action then trailed back to your eyes. When he saw how it softens and the look of surrender flickers through them, his heart thumped faster.

He couldn’t explain what exactly he was feeling. Something tugs inside his chest and warmth flamed, invading his whole system. He slowly loosen his hold over your neck and hand slid down, rested just right above your chest. He can feel your heart beating so fast and he was thrilled.

You kept staring at his eyes. To see how much you affect him is very fascinating even for you. Even if you’re scared, tired and hungry from all the stunt you pulled a while ago, you tried to keep standing on your feet.

Both of his hands are now at your sides, resting on your hips to keep you in place. He caged you between him and the wall behind you. The whole room fell silent to the point that you can almost hear your loud heart beating.

You sighed heavily and slowly leans your forehead over his chest. Jungwon was caught off-guard. Are you finally opening up at him? Did he really did it?

One of his hand slid over your waist, the other to the small of your back to pull you closer to him. To feel you between his arms are making him lose his mind. He placed a kiss on top of your head and smirks, feeling giddy inside.

“See? That’s not so bad.” he mumbled near your ear.

You licked your lips and shut your eyes for a while to rethink your life decisions. After making up your mind, you lift your head up to once again look at his eyes.

Compared from a while ago, they look more remorseful. He looks so concerned and when his eyes dropped to your slightly red neck, a hint of worry appeared on his eyes.

“Does it hurt...” he was once again caught off guard when he just felt your hot lips smashed on his.

Wait. Your hot lips. Your. Lips.

Jungwon blinks a couple of times, trying to wake himself up from the dream if ever he’s inside one. But no. You are kissing him.

His grip over your waist tightens and he closed his eyes to start kissing you back. He slightly pushed you towards the wall, this time very gently. His other hand even placed behind your head just so you wouldn’t hit it hardly.

He tilt his head and kissed you hungrily, making you gasp for air. His soft hot lips makes your stomach churns. Even if you try to kill whatever that feeling forming your chest, it was no use. Yang Jungwon is really making you feel these things. You’re indenial, but he’s the only one that gave you butterflies and make you feel terrified at the same time. Oddly, it felt... good.

Jungwon groans on your lips and pressed his body towards you even more. You whimpered and tried moving away to catch some air. He lets you, but kept his face so close. Your noses touching.

Both of you are gasping for air while staring dirftly at each other’s eyes. He smirks and gently pressed his forehead at yours while he stare down at your now swollen lips.

“You taste so sweet.” he whispered.

You gulped and tip toed before wrapping your arms over his nape to give him another kiss. Jungwon’s more delighted to wrap his arm over your waste, responding to your hot kisses.

He used to imagine having you like this and it already drives him crazy. Now that he’s experiencing it, he’s done for it. He’s ruined. He’s down bad for you.

“Agh,” he grunts when you bit his lips so hard.

He slightly pulled away and you used that chance to push him hard. He was caught off-guard and still high from your kiss so it made him step back a few times.

You hurried your way towards the door and burst it open. Surprisingly, there are no one by the hallway. You bolted and just run without having any idea where to go to. All you know is that you need to get away from Yang Jungwon.

Suddenly the memory of your hot kiss flashes through your mind and it made you halt from your steps. You let out a frustrated sigh then smack your head once.

“Snap out of it, y/n!” and you went back on finding your way out.

Even before you can turn to the next corner, the whole mansion turned dark. Your feet stopped and stood frozen on the spot. The lights are all turned off.

Tears started forming your eyes as your heart thumped loudly out of fear. You know for sure that he’s very much pissed off for what you did and now he will hunt you. This is his home, you are in complete disadvantage. The night felt colder as you try to hide yourself inside the corner of the first room you found. Trying to hug yourself and not make any sound.

You shut your eyes and silently prayed that he won’t manage to find you here, although you’re sure he will. Tears stream down your eyes as your clenched your fists, body shaking.

Jungwon smirks as he orders them not to meddle. He stared blankly at the dark hallway of their mansion. The only thing that serves a light was the bright moon outside, its light shining through some gap from the big curtains of the windows.

He strides the hallway while whistling, each steps are slow and obviously taking his own time. He seemed relax as he kicked the first door to his right open. He tries to roam his eyes as it adjusts to the dark.

He’s suppose to feel enraged for what you just pulled a while ago. His lips have a stain of blood from your hard bite, but a smirk spreads across his face. But after tasting you, he just couldn’t seem to be in a bad mood. He couldn’t get enough of you.

And there’s no way he will ever let you go. You belong to him. So that’s why you end up in that situation, a predator hunting its pitiful and helpless prey.

main master-list

permanent tag-list:

@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @love13tter @candewlsy @simpforniki @classicroyalty @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @hiqhkey @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @moonlightisland @ayayiiie @aeyeree

insolitus tag-list:

@heeseung-min

#enhypen #eeunoiaverse #eeunioa #eeunoiawrites #enhypen imagines #yandere enhypen #enhypen yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon yandere #enhypen jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen jungwon #enhypen jungwon fic

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telugu-girl-13 · 29 days ago

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♡ Hasini's 150 Follower Event ♡

Hey, guys! I've been so excited to hold another event, and you helped me get there! I'm officially somewhat famous! And I'm super thankful to every single one of you who has acknowledged my presence in some way. Not just following, but also liking, commenting, reblogging, booping, anything and everything. Every single one of you have a special place in my heart, and I hope you know it! <33

﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Back with the theme! If you're new here, I'm crossing my fingers that you love it. And if you're one of the OGs, hope you enjoy the experience of this event once again! I'm obsessed with this, so it's making another appearance! Maybe for my next event, I'll have a few new tricks up my sleeve...

This event will be in the standard ask in my inbox format, with only one request per mutual! All of these requests must be sent between 7:30 AM and 9:00 PM Eastern Standard time, so you're not sneaking out during curfew! (You'll understand in a moment, and if you can't coordinate the timings from another part of the world, it's fine!) This post will be pinned on my blog from November 3 to November 10 and no requests will be accepted after that. Here is the link to my introduction post! Most of these are art-related! Hope you enjoy!

*This request might take a day or two during the school week! Hope you have extra drachmas! (I'm just kidding, the only thing you have to pay is your patience and time!)

﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Hello, new camper! You have followed me and passed Thalia's Pine Tree 🌲. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! Where would you like to go first?

🏐♡ - The volleyball court! To play here, send a prompt for a tag game in my inbox! Let's try to keep the volleyball up by keeping the tag game going!

🏠♡ - The cabins! To stay here, submit your godly parent and I'll provide some aesthetics that I think would fit your cabin (blog)!

🎨♡ - The arts and crafts building! To hang out here, submit your favorite color(s), hobbies, animals, symbols, and more, and I'll create a collage for you!*

🔥♡ - The amphitheater bonfire! To hang out here, sing a lyric of a song (in text, not actually) and I'll incorporate it in a moodboard!*

⚔️♡ - The arena! To hang out here, send a controversial or unpopular opinion about an appropriate topic! Make sure it isn't triggering or harmful, and is something like a ship or a favorite character! Let's battle it out! Anyone who wants can join the debate!

📚♡ - The library! To hang out here, send a headcannon for a book I've read and I'll comment on it and maybe even draw it!*

🏖️♡ - The fireworks beach! To hang out here, I'll compliment you and tell you why you I think you're amazing! Request this if you feel depressed or just need a friend to comfort you <3

﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

While many of these may sound similar, trust me, each is different. I included some of the most popular options from last time and put a twist on some of them, hopefully I get a variety of responses! Thank you for participating, and even if you don't, thank you for supporting my blog through its journey! Love you xx!

See tags 50 follower event and hasini's 100 follower event for past activities!

#hasini's 150 follower event ♡#camp half blood

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syoddeye · 8 months ago

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14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

because i can't be Normal, here are 11 mini moodboards + blurbs lmao. thank you canva. some of the photos are low res, that's my b.

disclaimer: this is clearly for fun. i don't want to hear about how wrong i am lol.

Price: Maybe this is because the strong visuals from Ursa Major by @the-californicationist is rotting my brain (affectionate), but my favorite dude likes workwear and high quality clothing. I don't think he prioritizes fashion, but at the same time, he puts on Hard Pants whenever he leaves the house because you never know who he might meet! (You. At the store. Where he gets that pesky can of whatever off the top shelf for you.) Need to commission an artist to draw him as Tom Selleck.

Rudy: Inspired by Bayardo. Rudy likes moto style, worn-in/lived-in clothing, and cleans up real nice. I could see him gravitating more color and knit button downs/polo shirts. I didn't include much western/cowboy stuff, but I imagine Alejandro's aesthetic rubbing off on Rudy since they've known each other for decades.

Ghost: To no one's surprise, his favorite color is black. But, he wouldn't wear clothes that draw even more attention. He's already a big fella, I just don't see him trying to stand out on purpose. He favors darker neutrals, layers, regular cloth or paper face masks, and workwear. Pretty plain aesthetic. Just a Guy™.

Kate: "Sy, that's a lot of Gillian Anderson." AND? What about it? Anyway, I think younger!Kate saw If These Walls Could Talk 2 and emulated Amy's (Chloë Sevigny) style for a number of years. I think with her work and maturation of style, her style is more utilitarian/streamlined, but when she dresses up, ooh baby. Some of Maya Erskine's outfits in the new Mr. and Mrs. Smith show also scream Kate to me. Obviously we have a vest outfit here, because if there is one thing lesbians love, it's utility. /jk

Nik: Similar to Price in that he values clothes that can hold up under normal-to-heavy use. Every outfit does have to highlight a chain. My guy is probably sitting on a small mountain of money, too, but the clothes he picks for himself are unlabeled.

Ale: He's a smooth operator 🎶 No, but to me he's like Soap - Alejandro knows he's good-looking. He has the range and the confidence to pull off most anything. I think similar to Rudy, I imagine him leaning more towards moto aesthetics, with more cowboy/western vibes. Not afraid of color. Lest we forget, he owns a ranch, so throw in workwear, too. Tucked in shirts, belt buckles. Another minor point of inspo is Donald Glover from Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Gaz: It's coincidence two photos contains glasses BUT I think in my dream world, Gaz dresses the way Elliot Knight's stylist dresses him. Which is to say wonderfully. Gaz tends toward neutrals, pieces that are easy to layer, and can fit into more than one look. He's probably somewhat up on fashion and style, not obsessed, but aware of what he looks good in. Not afraid to chat up a sales associate for help.

Soap: He knows he's nice to look at. He knows his arms are drool-worthy. The moment the weather's pleasant enough, he's sleeveless. I also know he probably dgaf about fashion but let's feed my delusions. Streetwear, athleisure - He's got to be able to move freely, feel comfortable, and show off his build.

Farah: Ignore the bags lol. If anything, she's carrying something crossbody and functional. Anyway, Farah's a leader and has been from too young of an age. I think this translates to how she carries herself and what she wears, yeah? I think she aligns with Soap+Gaz+Ale in the Can Wear Anything group. My soft as fuck HC is that Price gave her a few band shirts at some point in time.

Alex: Generally aware of what he looks good in. He relies on his more fashion inclined friends and loved ones to send him ideas or buy him clothes outright because he does not go out of his way to shop. He constantly wears that a single jacket he got One compliment on it six years ago. Like Ghost, he's Just a Guy™. A very handsome one.

Valeria: She's a business woman, right? 👀 Valeria's aesthetic is a mixture of all black everything/glam/utilitarian but make it fashion. In my deepest of dreams, her fashion style is more fluid, and she eats up everything she wears. Again, kind of falling into the idea that confidence makes any style possible on her.

character ask game questions here!

#i made these between meetings on mobile so let's be nice about formatting #sy asks #cod aesthetics #moodboards #john price #rodolfo rudy parra #rudy parra #simon ghost riley #kate laswell #kate laswell cod #cod nikolai #nikolai cod #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #farah karim #alex keller #valeria garza #femalefemur

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morelikeravenbore · 1 year ago

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Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist

Hello and welcome to my blog! I go by Aura, I'm an aspiring author and I'm obsessed with Sebastian Sallow and my sassy French Ravenclaw bebe Aurélie Collins.

Asks are open but I much prefer yapping about The Characters than about myself. Mean anons are immediately blocked and ignored. 💅

Thanks for stopping by! Love u!

Ongoing long fic | Sebastian Sallow x Aurélie Collins

[TUMBLR | WATTPAD | AO3]

Seventh year, post-canon/canon-divergent, no gameplay retelling, eventual romance.

tropes: slooooow burn romance, idiots in love, mutual pining, hurt comfort, suppressed powers, villain arc.

Dual POV between Sebastian and Aurélie #sebaura

CW: [rated mature, no smut.] The story explores themes of grief, loss and trauma. Mentions of murder, family loss, mild violence and sexual references.

"If Aurélie Collins had to choose one word to best describe herself, she supposed it would be, to put it as delicately as she could: "completely and utterly overwhelmed." Granted, that was four words, not one, but as she trudged down yet another unfamiliar corridor, she was simply relieved she could string together a coherent sentence at all; after the last few months of hell she'd endured, Aurélie wasn't her usual eloquent self, to say the least."

🦋 tags: #aurelie collins #sebaura #how to make a villain #morelikeravenbore writes

✨ Spicy One-Shots

🔞 MASTERLIST | NSFW | MDNI

Sebastian Sallow x unnamed female. Mostly Sebastian's POV. Triggers and content warnings on each post. All characters are 18+. Minors dni, please and thank you.

✨ Fluffy One-Shots

🍭 MASTERLIST | SFW | FLUFF

Sebastian x Aurélie headcanons. Fandom friendship crossovers. Discord writing events. General cuteness.

✨ Sebastian

Screenshots (coming soon)

🔞 Spicy alphabet | nsfw

🍭 Fluffy alphabet | sfw

🐍Sebastian Sallow, the yapper (and other such headcanons) | sfw

💕 Sebastian x Aurélie headcanons | sfw

✨ Requested

🍭 Ominis Gaunt headcanons | sfw

Alphabets coming soon maybe lol

🦋 Aurélie Collins

Screen shots

Gifs

Art & commissions

Moodboards

Aurélie's alphabet | sfw Five facts: part one | part two Ravenclaw pride

#hogwarts legacy fanfiction #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fandom #Sebastian Sallow #Sebastian Sallow fanfic #Hogwarts legacy fanfic #aurelie collins #how to make a villain #Hogwarts legacy smut #Sebastian Sallow smut #sebastian sallow oneshot #Hogwarts legacy oneshot #ravenclaw mc #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebaura #hogwarts legacy

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thecoffeelorian · 4 months ago

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Fandom Friday, 07/12: Fanart

Hello again, everyone...and welcome back to another Fandom Friday: Fanart Edition.

Before we begin, I would just like to say that I've gone back to including ten links for this half rather than seven, as they seem to gather a bit more attention than the Fanfictions do.

Also, in case I didn't mention it before, I try to bring in around two examples each week from each currently active part of the fandom, so that the most recent projects get represented in my updates. Basically setting out the freshest products first, to put it into baking terms.

Now that you all have a somewhat better idea of how I do this...here are my picks of the week.

THE ACOLYTE

The Acolyte Fanart--By @elainecreations

The Acolyte Fanart--By @aresielle

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanart--By @coldbrewarts

The Clone Wars Fanart--By @clone-trooper-cheese

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanart--By @amandamadeathing

The Bad Batch Fanart--By @kenosisofabrami

STAR WARS REBELS

Star Wars Rebels Fanart--By @mystical-salamander

Star Wars Rebels Fanart--By @moodboards-aesthetics

THE MANDALORIAN

The Mandalorian Fanart--By @instarwars

AHSOKA

Ahsoka Fanart--By @caccry

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and, on Friday every week, highlight those artists who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the artists a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

And finally, so that I do not forget…this post will be continued in its second half: the Fanfiction Edition.

Thank you, good morning, and I'll see you in the next post!

The No-Pressure Tag List: @theweepingvulcan91 @libraryfordyslexics @olafur-neal @theunknownartist1 @bluedeedeedoop

@crazyinspirationaldreams @theosb0rnway @gun-roswell @melymigo @skellymom

@cinnamonsugar-pretzel @its-time-to-rise-above @vaderkin-is-a-lightning-rod @universitysunflowers

@tazmbc1 @thegreenspectr @leos-multifandom-corner @badbatchposts @sharpasanaro

@tlmtwelve @thatflatfrog @nadjem-mari @leenabb104104 @ithillia

@difuf @rott1ngbra1n @saviinika @everybirdfellsilent @algo-o-nada

@botherdv @justhereforthesherlock @sportlover4life @aelfgiure @typewriters-and-love-letters

@theweepingvulcan91 @maggie-dylan and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new and interesting fanart.

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worshipper-status · 7 months ago

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Literally so happy because my God is actually excepting of my obsession, but I’d kinda like to know how to worship him better less directly? (Ie. tips on digital alters/general worship tips?)

An excuse to ramble! Thank you :D

Worshipper's Guide to Indirect Worship

This is going to be my sfw guide for less direct methods of contact and digital altars, I may make an nsfw guide at some point on my own as a counterpart to this but for now...

(long post below)

Digital Shrines

Digital shrines are a good format for indirect worship, because you can curate it from anywhere, and no one will know. Technically I have two digital altars but one is more a back up of the other. One is I have a folder on my computer that contains all the media of the shrine, and the shrine itself is on my personal discord server. Usually I separate the shrine itself into media, devotionals, personal devotionals, writings, and links by using different discord channels. The channels breakdown like this for me:

Media: photos and videos of solely them

Devotionals: images I find on the internet that I feel embody our relationship, media created by someone else. Also picrews usually

Personal Devotionals: Visual media I have personally made to embody our relationship and can take full credit for creating. (This is a specific folder I made just to keep my art and others art separate)

Writings: Poems, songs, rambles, gushing, fantasies, etc. Any thought you have about them that's important enough to write down, put it here.

Links: I use this as a dumping ground for ideas I got from articles, purchases I want to make, or anything that requires a link to something else but directly relates to my worship of My Goddess.

Tumblr can also be a general dumping grounds kind of shrine, where I would not be too honest tbh, but it's a start. I prefer keeping my shrines private for the most part. My general advice is to stay away from tumblr for everything because you're not going to feel 1000% comfortable expressing your worship to its full extent because of the possibility of it being found by strangers. Also some things are just tmi to be honest. I have writings in my folder documenting times me and My Goddess have banged in detail so I don't forget. Tumblr doesn't need that kind of detail on here. So try and keep shrines at least somewhat private for your own sake. People are dicks.

As for advice for things to do to worship indirectly (and this goes hand in hand with the shrine a little bit) here's a list with general advice and ideas:

Scrapbook/Junk Journal about them (I'm biased this is a personal favorite of mine). Get a notebook, some scrapbook supplies, and either dedicate it to photos of your beloved or journal about any time you guys interact in ways that feel meaningful to you! I keep one physical scrapbook that I use for collages for My Goddess's photos, and am planning to start a junk journal for more writing purposes. I'll probably solely be using it to write about personal interactions with My Goddess, and on slower days, things I love about Her in general. It's both kinda a traditional journal and a part of my obsessive behaviors. You can also do stuff like this digitally with moodboard and collage makers like Canva which have free options.

Document about them. This is kinda vague so I'll explain. As part of my shrine, I have a document I'm building dedicated to bullet note points about My Goddess. If She randomly drops a fact on me about Her childhood, or Her interests. I write it down there so I don't forget. I want to be a good worshipper so I want to be an expert in everything about Her. I usually use a note taking app for this that I can organize into subgroups. Notion is a favorite of mine (despite them selling their soul to the AI overlords sigh) because it allows a lot of creative freedom in organizing the documents AND it's linked to my email so I can't lose it. Obviously, a google doc will accomplish the exact same thing, however my entire personality type is best described as extra, so I have to do things with extra effort at all times.

Write for them. This is where my pagan background kicks in a little bit, but in certain pagan traditions, especially stuff like Hellenic Polytheism, writing hymns or poems or songs for the gods was very important to their practices. So why not write those things for your God? It doesn't need to be shared, it can be bad, it can be whatever it wants to be. What I usually do, is I write poems for My Goddess, and keep them in my junk journal or digital shrine, depending on if I'm working physically or digitally, and if I'm feeling brave I'll share it with Her, but most times, they stay hidden in the depths of my shrine stuff.

Biggest overall piece of advice, create for them. Nothing shows devotion, quite like the personal experience of making something for someone else even if they never see it. Honor the Gods with the act of Creation, ya know?? It doesn't even have to require you to be good at drawing or whatever. Are you someone who gardens? Name a plant after them. Like makeup? Figure out what makeup styles they prefer on your chosen gender and wear those all the time, even if they're not there to see. Sewing? Make a stuffed animal of them. Speed runs? Dedicate every run to them, create a record for them. It can be as big or as mundane as you want and none of it has to be outwardly expressed to the other person. Just dedicate whatever hobby you have to them, and suddenly you'll have tons of shrine material.

Now for the quick part, of this!

General Worship Tips! (These are more indirect tho)

When getting dressed, pick outfits you know they'll appreciate. (Just please don't sacrifice your personal style for this)

Capitalize their name/title no matter what. They deserve the respect of one extra button push.

Write letters, even if you live close, even if you see them everyday, and even if you never send them. Use this as a format to express your emotions unbarred.

Save every photo they send you of themselves. If you need to edit people out of the photo do it, but you better be saving every instance of themselves they give you.

Fill your space with things that express yourself yes, but also have stuff that reminds you of them. Do they have a favorite animal? Buy those kinds of stuffed animals. They say they like certain types of aesthetics? Put some of that decor in your space.

I don't paint my nails, but if you do, paint them their favorite color.

Have dedicated jewelry pieces for them. While My Goddess did not give it to me, I have a memory of them associated with a bracelet I wear every single day. You can just buy a piece of jewelry and assign it as a symbol to them. They don't have to know.

Interact with their interests, with passion. Do your best to care about everything they care about. It'll give you guys tons of stuff to do, and help you understand them better.

Make pinterest boards dedicated to certain moments you want i.e. first date, wedding, future house/apartment dreams, pets you want with them, nursery room ideas, etc.

Make playlists dedicated to them.

Alright that's all I really have for right now! I hope some of this advice has been helpful and at the very least legible lol. I hope everything with you and your God goes well! If you want any more advice do not be afraid to ask me more questions :)

#worshipper's oath #worshipper's answers #irl yandere #male yandere #yandere #obsessive love #obsessive love disorder #bpd yandere #yandere boy #obsessive thoughts #yandere community #yancore #yanblr #yanderecore #yandereblr #yandere coping #yandere tips #yandere male #boy yandere

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malarkgirlypop · 11 months ago

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The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

YEEHAW AND HOWDY PARTNERS, ARE YA'LL ALL SADDLED UP?

This is the AU from the moodboard I created for Cowboy Malark. I have become completely obsessed with him and I have no idea who long this is going to be. But slay, if no one else likes it, that's fine I will have him all to my self ehehe.

This based on the characters from the HBO show and the actors who portray them. No hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @deputy-buck, @ronald-speirs, @whollyjoly, @footprintsinthesxnd, @next-autopsy, (let me know if you want to be tagged in this series x)

Malarkey rose with the sun. The sound of the early birds chirping, the crisp morning air, Malarkey always liked to be the first one awake. He often pretended he was the only person alive in the world, during these times.

He sipped his coffee, sitting on the porch overlooking the ranch. They had hectares of land sprawling over the lush green mountains. On those mountains were their livestock, roaming freely on the land. Malarkey often dreamed of being one of them, no shackles holding them back, they were free to go where they pleased, unaware of the danger that surrounded them.

Don finished the bitter drink, putting his mug in the sink. His gear was packed for today, and he was ready for it.

Today they were mustering the livestock back to the main fields for health checks, shearing, deworming, breeding and the works. It was going to be a long ride; he first had to find the stock in the miles and miles of land, and then bring them back to the ranch in one piece. It wasn’t easy work, but Don was no stranger to this operation. In fact he looked forward to it. A whole day just him, the dogs and his horse. No one could ask for a better day.

“Scout, Tiller! Let’s go!” Don called the collie and cattle dogs. They raised their heads from their slumber, slowly making their way out to Don.

“Don’t look so sleepy you two, big day today.” He spoke to the dogs who stretched their long bodies.

With the two dogs in tow, Don made his way to the barn.

“Hey, Lady!” Don spoke to the horse who nickered gently back at him. He pressed his hand into the bridge of her nose and she nuzzled against him. Him and Lady went way back. He had brought her up as a foal, when her mother died. Don had hand reared the newborn all by himself. Now they were as thick as thieves, Skip and Alex often said they were somehow so alike.

Don prepped Lady for the ride. Since it was going to be a long day, he had ensured to bring water and snacks for the dogs and him. Don had also packed for an emergency stay as well, sometimes things went wrong up in the mountains, livestock could get lost or injured as he led them back down, or it could take longer for him to find them. So he ensured he packed warm gear, a tent, his sleeping bag and everything else he could need for if he was stuck for a couple nights up in the mountain. Lady could eat the greenery and drink from the river if she needed.

Don checked all of her hooves, but he knew her shoes would be fine since he was the one who had fitted them. Along with being the musterer, he also was the ranch farrier. The men often said that Don enjoyed the company of the animals more than people. They weren’t wrong, Donald often preferred to speak to the animals quietly as he worked. He would tell them all his secrets and worries, even though they couldn’t speak back he knew they understood him. But there were some people he often preferred the company of better than the animals. His Easy men. The men who worked tirelessly alongside him on the ranch. Though they weren’t related by blood, they were his chosen family. They had come from all over the country to move into the ranch and start the business. It had been shaky at the start since they didn’t have much money but after a while it all came together. The men couldn’t be happier off in their own little paradise with their friends, doing the jobs they loved. They all had their roles and took them very seriously.

Don loaded his rifle, ensuring the safety was on before slinging it over his back. Lady was all ready for the hike and so were the dogs, restlessly playing with each other in the hay.

Don led Lady out into the field with Scout and Tiller on their heels. He glanced back at the ranch, seeing all the rooms still dark with curtains pulled. He mounted up into the worn saddle, nudging Lady in her side with a click of his tongue, she was off walking.

The walk up the mountains was peaceful. The sounds of nature were calming as Don just quietly existed. These mountains were mostly untouched by human hands, only the men from Easy venturing out into the thick woods. The trees seemed to know the men. Don had been lucky, at how all the previous musterings had gone. He believed the mountains and nature knew he meant no harm and let him pass freely. Scout and Tiller didn’t go far from him, there were predators far greater and stronger than them in these woods. The dogs knew their limits of how far they would stray before it becomes too dangerous. Hence why Don carried a gun. Mountain lions, Wolves, Coyotes, and Bears were to name a few of the predators that called the forest home. Most of the livestock survived, they were smart and knew when to move. But with the mating season coming up, the birth of new animals would cause unwanted attention. That is why the mustering would be important, getting the stock down to the fields closer to the ranch for the men to keep a watchful eye on. It would cost the men a lot of stock if they weren’t to move them.

Don breathed in letting the crisp air fill his lungs. Lady began to walk slower, stopping more frequently to try and eat. Malarkey knew the ques of his horse, she was getting tired. He dismounted with ease, putting the reigns behind her head so that she could walk around and graze in the meadow he had stopped in. He gathered the supplies he needed from Lady’s saddle bags. Sitting under the shade of the big oak tree that stood alone in the field. Scout and Tiller came to rest under the tree as well, tongues lolling from their mouths as they panted. Don poured water he had carried for them into a bowl, they lapped frantically at the water getting their fill. Don also put out the food he had brought them, Scout and Tiller almost finishing their food instantly. Don chuckled watching them scoff down the food as quickly as possible.

“Gosh you act like we don’t feed you.” He teased, patting the dogs as they ate. Don soon got to his own meal once everyone else had been looked after. Pouring himself a hot drink from the flask he had brought, and chomping into the sandwich that Lipton had made him the previous night from him to take. After eating his fill, Don leaned back against the thick trunk of the tree. Resting his hat over his eyes to shield from the warm sun that filtered through the leaves. In his head he thought about where he saw the stock last. As they had walked he kept an eye out for tracks and scat to figure out how long ago the stock had moved through there. From his findings they hadn’t been at the edge of the woods where they had moved through in a while. Most likely finding shelter up in the higher mountain ranges. As most of the predators didn’t venture up that far, due to the cold and treacherous terrain. Don knew he would have to hike further up into the mountain out of the trees and into the rocky landscape if he wanted to find the stock. He sighed removing the hat from his face, they had rested long enough, it was time to move on again.

It wasn’t long before they found the edge of the woods, the trees dispersed slowly, leaving them exposed to the cold wind. Donald zipped up the front of his thick wool lined jacket, it was worn but it did the job keeping out frigid gale. The signs of the stock were getting closer as well, Don knew he was on the right track. He had spotted fresh scat and tracks from the animals, they had been here recently. He followed his intuition, but the beasts were also predictable. Don knew all of their favorite spots up in the mountain. There were certain clearings that held fresh grass for them to graze and a couple of groups of trees for shelter. They would go where they felt most safe, Don knew exactly where that was. Scout and Tiller’s ears perked, whining lowly, they had heard the stock, so they were close.

The dogs led the way, using their strong noses and keen senses to track the animals down. Don followed behind them, Lady working hard up the hill. She was an Australian stock horse, she could run fast but only for short bursts. Lady was known for her hardy breed, endurance, sure footedness, agility, and good temperament. She was the loveliest horse they had on the ranch. Well that’s what Don said but he was biased since he raised her. The men all had their own horse, they all had stories of how they came into possession of the horse that they owned. But the men all loved their animals fiercely, they were part of the family.

The dogs Scout and Tiller were also Don’s. Scout’s mother, Winters’ dog, Poppy had given birth to the litter after Lew’s dog, Whiskey, had gotten her pregnant. They had a big litter of 10, Don had chosen the runt, which was Scout. She was a good dog, one of the best herders in the packs of mutts they had on the ranch. Don trained her tirelessly, but Collies were smart and keen herders, it was easy for her to pick up. Tiller, the cattle dog, was found on the side of the street. Some low life had dumped him on the side of the highway, left for dead. Don had made Skip turn all the way back around in a loop so he could pick him up. He had cared for all his animals with so much love, the men often teased that he had chosen all of the outcasts, the unlucky ones. Don didn't see them as that though, they were strong and resilient, fighting against all odds to survive.

Don could now hear the stock, their low moo’s echoed around the mountain. They arrived just out of sight from the herd.

“Tiller cast.” Don called to the dog, who immediately sprinited off to round up the herd. He ran around the stray cows from the group nipping at their heels to get them to move in the direction he wanted.

“Scout hold!” Don told Scout, she stood her ground at the front of the herd stopping them from moving as Tiller rounded them into a neat group. Scout darted from side to side at the front, staring down the cows that tried to move without her permission.

“Come bye, Tiller!” Don instructed the dog to go clockwise around the stock, to ensure all of the cows were in the group.

With Tiller at the back and Scout at the front, they could usher the herd down the hill. The cows knew to follow, so the dogs didn’t have to work too hard. But they were there in case one of the cows tried to stray from the group.

“Scout stand. Tiller speak up!” Don commanded the dogs. Scout eased up on her position, letting the stock move forward, as Tiller barked at the herd to get them moving. They were all experienced with this drill, even the cows knew it well. It wasn’t long before they were off down the mountains again.

The dogs ensured the herd stayed together and Don followed up the rear. It was getting later in the evening, the sun was setting quickly. It wouldn’t be safe to move in the dark, as it was easy to get lost in the thick woods. Also the low visibility increased the risk of injury from all parties, and Don wasn’t going to risk the health of his animals to get back to the ranch in one day.

There was an overflow field only about 10 minutes away from here, Don could get them all there in time in the fenced field so they could all rest safely for the night.

Scout in the front of the herd started barking, Don looked to see what was going on. It wasn’t normal for her to bark since she was a silent herding dog. Don clicked his tongue getting Lady to move a bit faster as he made his way to the front of the group. Scout growled into the thick woods with her hackles raised. There was something out there. Don was quick pulling the gun from his back and flicking off the safety. He raised it, eyes scanning the dense trees, looking for a sign of movement. Scout still stood growling and snapping at the trees, she was disturbed by whatever was out there. It wasn’t often Don encountered the predators that lurked in the forest, but he knew what he had to do to keep himself and the rest of the group safe.

Don’s ear perked as a twig snapped close by, a lot closer than he assumed the creature was. He cocked the gun, readying himself to fire.

“Please! Don’t shoot!”

#omg #this was so fun to write #learnt how to herd cattle for this #watch me now move to a farm #to show off my new skills #band of brothers #hbo war #donald malarkey #fanfic

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push-tet · 10 months ago

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that post about Pucks

When i was researching the image of Puck in folklore. i noticed that the historians of the image of the Puck blurred and everyone is free to interpret Puck image. i really liked it and i have a desire to somehow realize it in my and Verona and at the same time to work out the lore of the fairies why not?

Clumsy (play), Oberon's Servant (play), real name Robbin Goodfellow (folklore), mischievous (play) prefers to live in the forest (folklore), prankster (folklore), suspicions of misanthropy (folklore), the fairy (play), cooperation with Obeoron (play), cunning (folklore\play)

next should be the suktchs so you can see what they look like but I'm too lazy to draw, so I'll just make some moodbords

moodboards

Puck Or Púca (don't call them that for your safety) Midasammerers Genderfluid i think? Knowledge Taurus 4\6\5\10\0 Hobbies: Science - Nature - Music. Obsession with substitutes (especially toads and frogs)

50% play, 50% folklore

Unlike the weirdos below. Puck is their real name, not a nickname

Remnant of the Midsummer Era. Puck is supposed to carry the knowledge and history of the ancient fairy people, but she's forgotten all about it

Puck used to have a passion for collecting and buying wet specimens. But because of her nomadic lifestyle, preserving them was impossible

In her spare time from scamming mortals for money and intimidating travellers in the forest. She likes to listen to classical or metal. Metal? Puck finds it fascinating that mortals were able to turn chaotic into harmony

The real body was destroyed for some unknown reason. So he exists as an intangible entity. Until he finds a new body huh. Priority is people over +185 and on the brink of death

Puck likes to wear makeup. But she doesn't know about waterproof makeup, so her makeup comes off right after her first swim at the bottom of the swamp

For friends and family, Shen; for students, Prof. Liang; for coworkers and subordinates, Puck III Gossamer He\Him Knowledge Gemini 5\6\7\3\4 Hobbies: Science - Nature Botanist

10% Play, 10% Falklore, 60% Chinese Legend

Smoking is not bad for fairies. So Shen can smoke two packs of cigarettes in a day. Surprisingly, he doesn't even stink…

Was a fashion icon in his department «Beauty doesn't interfere with intelligence. So your job as a scientist shouldn't stop you from dressing well»

He has a wife and a daughter. But because of the heavy workload, he constantly forgets about them.

A close BUSINESS relationship with Oberon

When Shen was on probation at Gossamer Corp. He and his students created the Money Tree that nearly brought the country's economy to a crashing halt

Missing in obscurity in 1966

Puck (Robin) Summerdream He/them Knowledge Pisces - 7\2\2\6\2\8 Hobbies: Science

Fascinated by astronomy, astrology

40% Play, 10% Folklore.

Although Robbin has already discovered his wizarding abilities, he is still firmly convinced that he is a fairy, it's just that their transformation has been delayed (spoiler: he's not a fairy)

Robin is talented at potions. HA! Now try saying Chemistry is a useless subject

Robbin doesn't even correct people when they are called Peck. Which is why half of Verona has forgotten their real name is Robbin

He can't say - No. Because he's afraid of offending someone. Because of this, he may have a lot of work to do

He wants peace in Verona and often thinks of putting a love potion in the drinks of the Monty and the Capps to stop this idiotic feud. But he fears the consequences of the potion's effects

In fact, he is not such a good astrologer and often says predictions at random. But by an incredible coincidence, their predictions come true

i tried to combine the traits of ONE person and at the same time, make them different. idk i did it or not anyway, choose your fighter

edit 19.01.24:

if these mfs meets

#my shitpost #vv:bs #puck summerdream #dude. puca looks like 2011 oc #veronaville

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flowerandblood · 7 months ago

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (23)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, manipulation, blackmailing and threats ]

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Alys had always known that, like any bastard child, she could only rely on herself. Her existence was merely an unfortunate accident to her father and brothers, with which they nevertheless came to terms, and she, in their minds, should be grateful for being allowed to stay and serve in Harrenhal.

Indeed, she never considered herself to have been significantly harmed by fate.

Compared to women who had to sell their bodies for money in order to survive, her function as herbalist and wet nurse completely satisfied her.

Milk filled her breasts along with the baby that one of the guards had put inside her. When he pressed her against the wall and lifted her gown, panting that he had desired her for a long time she did not stand up to him, even helping him by bending over and spreading the folds of her womanhood before him so that he could more easily hit the right spot with the thick tip of his length.

This particular man never aroused her desire, however, he supervised her chambers, and since she allowed him to enjoy the pleasures of her body, he closed his eyes to when and where she went out, giving her more freedom.

His wife, however, was not comforted by the fact that her husband had a mistress.

She could not conclude that her husband was a good lover; his hands only clenched greedily on her firm breasts, his thrusts violent, fast and deep. She knew that as he chased his fulfilment hissing that he would fill her with his seed, it did not even cross his mind to touch her between her thighs or ask what would give her pleasure.

She did not, however, resent him.

She recognised that this was how men were.

Although she tried not to think about it, the sight of his wife, one of her father's servants, filled her with remorse, for although she knew that this woman did not love him, she humiliated her every time she took away what belonged to her.

She had nothing to justify it, but she knew that if she told him to stop she would arouse his anger and his behaviour towards her would change.

He might want to take revenge on her for rejecting him.

She couldn't allow this to happen.

What he didn't know was that he wasn't the only man she allowed to sink between her thighs for the benefit; it was easier and sometimes even more enjoyable than trying to bribe them with money, which she didn't have much of anyway. What she was able to do perfectly was to observe people from the sidelines − their reactions and desires, coming to her own conclusions about what they needed and wanted.

Usually these men wanted not only sensation and elation, but also reassurance, a warm word and understanding; they lay with their faces cuddled between her breasts, muttering for her to stroke their heads, and she did so, allowing them to turn from men into innocent children for a moment.

The women in the fortress began to whisper among themselves that the ease with which she seduced men and with which she maintained her beauty despite her age was due to the fact that she was a witch.

She smiled piteously as she strolled through the corridors of the fortress, overhearing their conversations from afar, hearing about the potions she gave to poor, unaware men so they could not forget her, that she bathed in milk and blood to keep her face young and bright.

She did not deny the accusations, because she derived satisfaction from the fact that they feared and avoided her.

Fear, however, also tended to provoke interest and curiosity, and the young, newly arrived servants who were just learning their trade could not tell what they thought of her.

When she needed a break from the men's sweat and their aggressive, deep thrusts she sought peace and solace in the arms of young girls, much more gentle and understanding when it came to the nature of female fulfilment, their sweet moans and surprised expressions as she caressed them made her feel a pleasant pulsation between her thighs.

Although the prospect of becoming a mother did not fill her with particular joy, when she woke up one morning, feeling a pool of wetness under her thighs and saw blood, the squeeze in her throat and the tears she felt under her eyelids were proof that some part of her hoped she could love this innocent creature that was growing inside her womb.

This did not happen, however, and she, not wanting to waste her milk, from which her breasts had already swollen, decided to feed the children whose mothers had too little nourishment.

She considered her life quite prosperous and peaceful until her father and half-brother died in a fire.

Until Larys became the Lord of Harrenhal.

Everyone, including her, feared him.

He was like a writhing viper, tightening slowly around the necks of those who aroused his suspicions, his gaze black and completely blank, as if he experienced nothing, felt nothing inside himself.

He could not be seduced, appeased, pleaded with, persuaded.

He was like a stone, merciless, cruel, taking satisfaction in domination and power.

She never got in his way.

One evening, however, he summoned her to his chamber, and she feared what he desired.

When she stepped inside he was sitting at the table, having just eaten his evening meal. He smiled slightly at her in a way that made her feel the cold sweat on her back; his eyes remained indifferent, glowing mischievously in the firelight.

"Sit down, sister. I wish to discuss something with you." He said softly, and she swallowed hard, keeping an indifferent, satisfied face, looking at him from under half-closed eyelids. She sat down opposite him in one of the chairs, spreading out comfortably in her seat, sighing quietly and nodded for him to speak.

"We will have guests of honour. Prince Aemond and his wife will be arriving here within two days to spend the night here and then head off the next morning to meet Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon." He said calmly, putting a few pieces of cake from the tray onto his plate, with a hand gesture he encouraged her to eat as well, but she shook her head, analysing his words quickly.

She had heard of them.

Prince Aemond had married and taken his niece's maidenhood on the same night he chose Maris Baratheon as his wife.

His brother the King, to save the situation, married them in the eyes of the Seven before an enraged Borros Baratheon could arrive in King's Landing demanding justice.

There would not have been all the commotion if Prince Aemond had taken her as his second wife, but he clearly only wished to have one, therefore, Maris was sent away with only a dowry and humiliation.

Her half-brother continued, seeing the lack of response on her part.

"I want you to host them well. Both of them, if you understand what I have in mind. Myself and his grandfather do not believe in the success of their mission. Like most of the kingdom we know how it will end: with a war. A war we wish to win. However, our Prince, if I may say so, does not think with his mind now, but rather with what he has between his thighs. He gives in to his wife and her persuasions to bring about a reconciliation. I know you are well acquainted with human nature and will surely win both her trust and his heart."

She chuckled under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked at her fingers, trying to hide the horror and squeeze in her stomach she felt.

He wanted to expose her, to put her head under the Prince's sword if it turned out that her attempts would only enrage him, and he could wash his hands of everything.

"In any case, in a few days' time the matter of the succession will resolve itself with the help of my birds in the Eyrie. They know what to do. Of course, I'll let our Prince believe that his decision matters, however, everything is already arranged. I hope this should settle the matter. With the help of the gods, the girl might try to take her own life for the second time. Let us raise our cups for that." He said lightly, as if indeed such a course of events would please him the most; she looked at him in disbelief, thinking that she had not even noticed when he had become such a disgusting creature.

A monster that, like a black, empty hole, was consuming everything around him, destroying it and crushing it.

She wasn't in a position to refuse, and he knew it.

That was why she walked out with him to greet their guests, thinking she would simply do what he ordered her to do.

She blinked as the figure of a petite, pretty girl jumped down from the shimmering blue and silver dragon, her long, dark hair of a shade similar to hers tied into a braid, its unruly strands dishevelled by the long journey through the skies.

She stepped out in front of them, breathing heavily, her eyes big, full of curiosity and uncertainty, her gaze warm, kind, her cheeks all flushed from exertion. She stopped in front of them and forced herself into an innocent, almost childlike smile, from which she felt a squeeze in her gut.

Gods, have mercy.

"Your Grace. What a joy." Said her brother. The girl blinked, not knowing for a moment what to answer, shifting from foot to foot.

"My Lord Strong. Thank you for being willing to host us." She muttered at last, clearly tense − her was voice pleasant, melodious, soft, the kind that gives comfort with ease, brings peace of mind.

They all turned their faces towards the approaching figure as they heard his footsteps; Prince Aemond in his long black leather coat and black eye patch indeed looked like someone menacing, commanding, as powerful as the great dragon he was riding.

What immediately caught her attention was that as his gaze traveled over their faces he stopped at his wife, assessing her figure from afar as if quickly examining whether she had suffered any damage after such a long journey and whether she was well.

He must have evidently concluded that she was, for his gaze turned after a moment towards her brother.

"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters."

The Prince and her brother moved first, followed by his wife, looking around the interior of their fortress with genuine curiosity, not even listening to what her brother was saying.

She didn't even notice that her uncle was glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, checking that she was near and in no danger.

She thought he would sooner stab her in the heart than take her to his bed.

Her brother opened the door of the chamber that had been prepared for him, the largest in the entire fortress, not coincidentally located close to hers. The Prince, however, did not look impressed; his lips pressed into a thin line in disapproval when he heard that Lord Strong had assigned his wife other quarters.

"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." He said coolly, as if the very suggestion was offensive and insulting to him.

He had kept her with him the whole time, she thought in disbelief, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the girl standing next to her.

She stood, gazing at her uncle as if she were looking at a statue of one of the gods; her bright, shining eyes large and filled with affection, devotion, longing, even though, after all, he was standing in front of her, at her fingertips.

She realised, swallowing quietly, that he had not taken her by force the night he married her or any night after.

How long had they looked at each other like this?

Prince Aemond then looked at his niece with a gaze as if he was about to explode − his wife pressed her lips into a thin line, immediately understanding what the expression on his face was meant to convey to her, her look of understanding and sigh was meant to add to his patience.

His gaze softened and after a moment he nodded, letting her go.

The girl looked at her, so she smiled quickly and pointed with her hand the way they should go to her quarters. Before moving behind her she looked at her husband, the Prince leading her away with a cold, sharp gaze.

Overwhelmed by this revelation, no longer knowing herself what she thought of it or what she should do in such a situation, she simply followed her into the room, closing the door behind her. She watched quietly as the prince's wife walked to the window, placing her hand on the glass, and smiled slightly, noticing something outside.

Had she been like this all the time?

"Do you desire to change into something…more comfortable, Your Grace?" She asked finally, recognising that she needed to start any light conversation, to try and understand who was standing in front of her.

The girl shuddered and blinked, as if forgetting her presence for a moment, turning to face her. She nodded, forcing herself to smile, unsure and embarrassed, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous reflex.

"Yes. What do they call you?" She asked lightly and kindly, willingly shortening the distance between them, which surprised her.

Usually women of her ilk took satisfaction in calling her Lady Rivers, reminding her every time that she was a bastard.

But she, even if she was married to the Prince, was also one.

She was her relative, her brother's daughter.

She swallowed hard at that thought, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

"Alys, Your Grace."

She lowered her gaze, as if pondering something for a moment, and then her bright eyes looked at her again.

She thought with pain that she was like a small flower, a daisy or a forget-me-not, which one picked to weave into one's hair, to feel as innocent as a little child again.

"I would not wish to… misunderstand who you are and what you have in common with Lord Strong, Alys." She muttered with some sort of embarrassment, from which she involuntarily burst out laughing.

Good gods.

"I am not his mistress. I am his relative, though I do not bear his name, as any bastard would." She said softly, amused; her gaze shifted, her brow furrowed in concern and curiosity.

She knew what she was going to ask her, she could feel it in her bones.

"Did you know my father?"

She named him as her father even though she was officially Laenor Velaryon's daughter.

She admitted to her that she too was a bastard without a grimace of embarrassment.

"Yes, Princess."

Her whole body tensed, her hands clenched into fists.

"His death wasn't an unfortunate ordeal, was it?" She asked in a trembling voice, and her lips involuntarily lifted in a dangerous smirk at the thought that her directness was surprising her.

Was this how she spoke to her husband?

Was this how she forced her way into his heart?

"There are no such thing as unfortunate ordeals, Your Grace."

A silence fell between them filled with the weight of their words and what they meant; she licked her lips involuntarily, feeling that she was incapable of denying herself the pleasure of having to see her reaction to her words.

To see if she was right.

"After the word has reached us here all the way from King's Landing, I have been looking forward to our meeting with impatience, and while I will admit that it is not what I expected, I am beginning to understand your husband's desperation." She said with amusement, feeling a tingle in her fingertips and in her lower abdomen at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

"What do you mean?" She mumbled quietly, embarrassed; however, it was not shame feigned and exalted, but more an expression of genuine surprise and excitement at her words.

"Men are easily driven to desperation, though it usually takes time. They like to gain and take pride in what they have conquered; the greater, in their mind, the value of what they enclose in their embrace, the less they are willing to let it go." She said calmly, turning her head away, immersed in her own thoughts.

She looked at her, wanting to see her reaction, and sighed almost imperceptibly, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the sight of her parted, plump lips, her dreamy, hot gaze.

She knew that she had felt something at her words, that it had taken deep root in her heart and made her return with her thoughts to her husband.

Was this how she had looked at him when he made love to her?

She could not imagine that he could take her maidenhood brutally and cruelly, that he would allow her to cry beneath him in pain.

No, she thought − he surely took her with slow, lazy thrusts of his hips, letting her get used to his shape deep inside her, assuring her in a whisper that just a little more.

She felt a strong throbbing and tickling between her thighs at that thought and licked her lips, looking up at her again − her gaze lowered meekly to the stone floor, a soft, thoughtful smile on her face.

She decided on second thought, helping her change into one of her gowns, touching her soft skin, smelling the wonderful scent of vanilla in her nostrils, that she would braid the most elaborate hairstyle she could think of on her head, just so she wouldn't have to leave her chamber before supper.

She knew that her half-brother expected her to then take the opportunity to venture into the Prince's chambers to make sure he was not missing anything.

Therefore, she began to braid her soft, long, dark hair, creating a beautiful, complicated hairstyle surrounding her head.

She escorted her to the proper quarters and bowed, Larys gave her one impatient look.

She felt a cold sweat on her back, leaving immediately.

He was not pleased.

She thanked the gods that the Prince's wife had summoned her herself, wishing her help with her bath, giving her another reason not to head to her husband's chambers.

She thought that if she went on like this perhaps the situation would work out in such a way that she simply wouldn't have the opportunity to do anything, though even if she did she wasn't sure Larys would believe her.

As she walked into her chamber she saw that she herself was trying to untie her bodice, so she approached her, undoing the tangles with ease, looking at her face with curiosity.

"Was the Prince pleased with his wife's appearance, Your Grace?" She asked softly, noticing from the corner of her eye that the girl had lowered her gaze, ashamed and saddened.

"Yes. Though he expressed his opinion that he prefers it when my hair is loose." She said with resignation, and she couldn't stop the smile that appeared on her face.

Of course, she thought.

The sight of her loose hair reminded him fondly of how it had been spread in disarray around her head, shining in the darkness of his chamber as he fucked her greedily.

"Oh, that's understandable. He surely associates it with your intimacy and closeness, as any man would. The entwined curls and braids are for those around you, meanwhile the softness of your hair, the smell of them, the sight of them spread on the bed is something meant only for him." She replied lightly, for some reason wanting to lift her spirits and comfort her; she heard her move in place, the sweet blush appearing on her cheeks again.

She was embarrassed, she thought with disbelief and tenderness, as if she were looking at a small child.

She was so innocent.

Was that what attracted him to her?

The idea that he was surrounding her with himself like a dark cloak, devouring her again and again?

"You know a lot about men…don't you?" She heard her uncertain, curious voice; she looked at her in the reflection of the mirror, noticing that she immediately lowered her gaze, as if she could not bear the intensity with which she was looking at her.

"Yes, Princess."

"Have you seduced many yet?" She asked intrigued, and she smiled again involuntarily.

"Yes."

When her gown finally fell to the floor she saw her girlish, pleasing curves peeking through from under her nightgown. She watched as, with a light, confident step, she walked over to the bath and bore herself into the hot water, tilting her head back, sighing in relief, her head still adorned with the braids she had woven herself.

Such a pretty little thing.

"I would like to … make my husband happy tonight. I know he needs relief from what's about to happen tomorrow. However, I can't do it, at least for now, in the way I usually do." She mumbled out at last, looking at her with those big, warm eyes of hers, seeing in her apparently her guide, someone who could help her with these complicated and intimate matters.

She felt a pleasant squeeze in her lower abdomen at the idea that popped into her head.

"The easiest thing to do in that case would be for you to use your mouth." She replied amused, drawing out of her exactly the reaction she wanted − her cheeks turned scarlet, her gaze fled downwards, her tiny long fingers clenched into small fists.

She was wonderfully embarrassed, so sweet that he would have gladly shown her everything, step by step.

"I'm…inexperienced in these matters." She confessed with shame, and she involuntarily licked her lower lip with her tongue, feeling the throbbing between her thighs at her words, her nipples hardening under the material of her gown.

Gods.

"I see." She muttered, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad as she moved slowly towards her, her surprised gaze lifting to her as she knelt right next to her tub, cupping her wrist in her hand.

Her skin was as soft as silk.

Her gaze escaped involuntarily to her breasts, now perfectly visible through the wet material of her shirt clinging to her bare flesh; she felt a tickle in her swollen lips at the thought that she longed to lick and caress them.

She was sure that as he teased and sucked her nipples she moaned sweetly beneath him, begging for more, and he always, always gave in to her.

Because how could he refuse her?

"I can show you how you should do it, if that's what you wish, Your Grace."

She saw her pupils dilate in disbelief, her lips parted as she swallowed hard, her chest beginning to rise and fall in accelerated breaths.

"…How?"

She couldn't stop the smirk that appeared on her lips, nor what she did next.

She heard her sigh quietly, surprised and thrilled when her lips ran over her pointing finger, enveloping her skin with her hot breath.

"Imagine that this is his manhood. Men don't say it out loud because pride won't let them, but they adore it when a woman shows them with gentle, tender caresses." She whispered, running her swollen lips up and down her finger leaving a sticky, warm trail of her saliva on it, surprised at how wet it made her between her thighs, how wonderfully arousing it was, how obscene it was.

She heard her draw in a deep breath without moving away, but as she guided the tip of her finger between her lips, teasing and licking it lightly with her tongue, out of the corner of her eye she noticed that her thighs clenched in some helpless, subconscious reflex.

What other reactions could she draw from her?

"− and then − when he begins breathing faster − when you feel he's completely ready −" She sighed quietly as she suddenly slipped her whole finger deep into her mouth, feeling her swollen folds pulsate hard again and again as she began to suck it in slow, steady movements with the quiet click of her saliva.

She heard her gasp on the verge of a moan as her tongue began to trail over her skin with her low murmur of satisfaction, her free hand involuntarily sliding down to the material of her gown, wanting to slip under it and bring herself to fulfilment with her own touch.

She slipped her finger out of her mouth with a loud plop and looked up at her − her face all flushed, her gaze dreamy, hesitant and warm, as if she herself didn't know what she felt or why.

Something in her gaze made a pleasurable heat spill over her lower abdomen as she dug her own fingers into her fleshy folds, all sticky with her moisture, pulsing aggressively with her every stroke in pleasure.

"− you pretty little thing − it’s usually him taking care of you, isn’t it? − he can’t deny himself − I can’t blame him −" She whispered, trying not to move her hips so that she wouldn't notice anything; she lost the battle with herself as she felt herself getting closer and closer to fulfilment, pushing against her own slit with the tips of her fingers.

Unfortunately, it turned out that her husband was more vigilant than she thought.

When he burst into his wife's chamber she barely had time to remove her hand from under her own skirt and let go of her, standing quickly and bowing before him.

"My Prince."

"− get out −" He growled, and she walked out obediently, grateful in spirit to the gods that he hadn't stopped her to question her, that he hadn't noticed the glistening wetness on her fingers.

Or he saw it and it infuriated him, she thought with amusement, feeling her heart pounding like a mad in her chest.

She finished what she had started in her chamber, bringing herself to fulfilment with sure, swift strokes of her fingers, driving their tips into her sensitive, fleshy womanhood, able now to afford to moan and rock her hips, imagining her body peeking through from under her wet nightgown.

She imagined that she knelt before him to lunge and soothe him, that she barely fit his fat cock in her small mouth, all swollen from the desire she had always aroused in him, that this proud, dark, cold man whimpered before her like a small, innocent boy when he finally gave in, thrusting again and again deep into her warm throat.

She came with a low moan of relief, panting heavily, hugging her face into the pillow, rocking her hips for a while longer, slowly coming down from her peak.

She was sure that as she lay half asleep, feeling a blissful, pleasant peace, she heard their moans in the distance and grinned involuntarily.

Of course he forgave her.

He always did.

She often had dreams whose meaning she did not understand; she saw people she had never met before, observing events that might as well have happened in the future or in the past. That night, however, her dream particularly troubled and worried her, as she had no idea what it actually meant.

Two streams of blood finally merging into one, flowing like a river, which then, however, became a lake that reminded her of a dragon's head in a crown, only to spill over after a while, and she saw nothing but red.

Was this what was about to happen?

Would Princess Rheanyra and Prince Daemon be murdered and another dragon's reign begin upon their blood?

She swallowed hard, thinking of that young, cheerful girl, of how obvious it was that she was not aware of anything, that whatever her uncle-husband knew, he had not shared it with her.

She thought that if he betrayed her, she would wilt like a flower, fade like the sun in a setting sky.

She stood up and headed for his chamber.

His gaze expressed nothing less than disgust and rage at the sight of her. He reached for his tunic, dressing it hurriedly, tense and pale, knowing full well what was to happen if the negotiations did not bring the results he hoped for.

She wondered if he realised that even if he didn't give the order, they would be murdered anyway.

"You will betray her." She said indifferently, and he threw her a quick, horrified look, his nostrils quivering in disbelief.

He knew perfectly well what she was referring to.

She thought that sometimes all it took was a gentle push, putting a mirror in front of someone's face to make them think carefully again about whether they were ready for the consequences of their choices.

"You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most. You will break her. You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again. You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing. You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death."

She said and grinned, seeing that he shuddered all over, that his mask had cracked, his lips parted as if he wanted to groan in despair.

She knew he saw it in his mind, felt it in his heart, and she left his chamber without a word.

She let out a loud breath as she walked down the empty corridor, thinking with some kind of hope that her words, the vision she had invented to break him would terrify him enough to make him fall to his knees before his wife and confess everything he knew.

And if he doesn't, if in fact he betrays her, it will prove that he was never worthy of her.

She had come to her summons when she wished to clothe herself; she saw, crossing the threshold of her quarters, that she too was frightened and anxious, only for completely different reasons.

She wished for them to come to an understanding.

She believed it was possible.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought, at the realisation that she was alone in a world where everyone but her craved war, craved power, craved the throne.

She did not look at her face, at the clear command of her husband not allowing herself any closer proximity to her, which she accepted with understanding.

After she had fastened the buckles of her leather coat, however, she allowed herself to take her soft hand in her own, stroking it with her thumb.

She hesitated and furrowed her brow, but before she could move away, she began to speak, forcing herself to whisper, fearing that her brother's servants might have heard her.

"Do not return here. Fly from the Eyrie straight to King's Landing. I saw in my dream a river of blood taking the shape of a dragon's head wearing a crown. I saw red flooding everything around me." She said quickly, feeling a squeeze in her throat.

She thought in disbelief that she pitied this girl.

"This warning, these words, are my gift to you. Look after yourself. Trust no one."

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