#seeds of doubt in love's garden

[stargirl1331]

If you wrote me

Would you write me with care?

Would you be gentle in how you sculpted your words?

I hope you know

that every time I write you,

I trace my fingers softly through memories

Plucking carefully the moments I use

I can only write you gently.

If you drew me

Would it show me true?

Would a face appear in the spaces between strokes?

Every time

I try to draw you

I cannot continue to move the pen

to form the face I remember but cannot see

I don’t remember the color of your eyes

I wonder if you think of me how I think of you

I wonder if you think of me

I hope you do

- do you remember, original poem by C

[remi-harbinger]

When SJ first joined the sect he was been petty in ways that made complete sense to him and not to anyone else at all. He whispered answers to the people that get called on because he thought that it was the height of embarrassment to accept help from others. He'd be internally giggling at the thought of the turmoil going on in The Damned's minds and they'd just flash him a relieved grin and repeat the answer word for word. He's so confused he tries it out every single class. He gets a reputation for being There For You, and now people start coming to him with their problems.

He's hit with an epiphany. Yes. He's managed to manipulate them into trusting him. He doesn't know how but he's not going to doubt it. With this, half the sect become his personal bodyguard/shadows. When he started sneaking to Warm Red Pavilion a shijie saw him and instead of spreading nasty rumours etc etc she sat down with him and coaxed him into telling on why he wanted to go (he said its bc they need medicines and he technically isnt lying!)

So now he has yet another layer to his reputation. He's the xianxia version of Florence Nightingale, bringing love light and happiness to the unfortunate. (SJ doesn't even care at this point as long as no one stops him he can bear with the people coming up to him and going on and on about how he's righteous)

When he was reading and a bird landed on his hand (he wove the type of seeds that birds like into his little bracelet because he thought they were pretty), instead of people saying he cultivates the demonic path, disciples started whispering about how Head Disciple Shen is so beautiful that birds and butterflies follow in his footsteps. Okay, so maybe one time the shijie's wove him a flower crown and he put it on and the butterflies got attracted to the flowers. He was in a FLOWER GARDEN. There were SO MANY available flowers why?? just why??

Everyone (Liu Qingge) is convinced that SJ is some secret flower nymph that's sent to... steal sect secrets or something... Anyways the conclusion is that he absolutely!!! must !!! hang around SJ to ensure that he doesn't do anything wrong!!! And to keep suspicion away he has to bring increasingly elaborate and beautiful gifts of course!!! Yue Qingyuan why are you coming closer yue qingyuan stay awa-

[sonolynn]

Thou Shalt Not Covet.

summary | Aemond loved her first, and it would be Aemond who loved her last.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Fem!Reader

tags | infidelity (cheating), cussing, alludes to smut, mentions of drinking, whores etc (normal Aegon things), typical Targcest, jealous and possive Aemond

w.c | 1.2 k

note(s) | This is my first Aemond fic! I haven't read the books, and have only seen the show so if Aemond is ooc then I'm sorry!

______________________________________________________________

She was his. By the way of his mind she belonged to him. His brother, first to everything and last to nothing, got everything Aemond wished he had. The iron throne, the crown, her. The marriage between her and Aegon was strictly political; there was no love, no affection between the two. If Aemond was honest with himself he liked that, liked how her affection could be saved and harboarded for him only. 

Aegon had his spoils. He had bastards, he had whores, he had wine. He did not need her, nor did Aegon particularly want to have her. But Aemond did. 

Because of Aegon’s particular disdain for his wife, the times that she was left alone and in the confines of her chambers were more than not. On these nights, Aemond would find himself climbing up the stairs, his hands shaking slightly, and his mind racing as the guards opened the door and let him enter his niece's chambers. 

______________________________________________________________

“Uncle.” Her voice rang out over the fire in her chambers, and Aemond felt his heart rate pick up. She held a book in her lap, no doubt trying to wrap her mind around the philosophies written into the texts. Aemond felt himself shiver lightly, the sound of her voice seemingly always doing things to him. 

He said her name softly, and he smiled to himself as he walked over to sit next to her. She smiled, her hand wrapping around his and her voice soft.

“How do you fare?” That is how all of their nights began. The light conversation of “how do you fare?” eventually led to her bed. 

Aemond’s eyes caressed her skin, his hands worshiping her body as his voice sung praises of her victories over his mind, soul, and body. He would not ravish her like his brother did, no. He would worship and glorify her body before him as if she was a temple, he would exalt her pleasure to the highest of highs before he even thought of his. Aemond treated her like a goddess, and she was reminded of this every time her name fell from his lips and his seed spilled inside of her.

When he would finish he wouldn’t leave her to clean up on her own, or fall asleep. He would kiss her body softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back as she came down from her high. He would hold her until she fell asleep in his arms, and in the morning he would wake, admire her body and her face that still shone in the glow of intimacy, before he would dress and leave. 

______________________________________________________________

She liked the garden. She, truthfully, adored the garden. It was, she thought, the only place where she would be free from listening to the moans of Aegon’s whores and the drunken laughs that would escape his lips. 

She found solace in the way the leaves swayed in the wind, the way the sun shone lightly through the cracks of the trees. But, what she truly waited for was Aemond. Once his duties were done he would come into the garden, and they would walk, and talk with one another for what felt like hours. 

On this particular day, the two walked and talked about nothing in particular-just how both of them liked it. But, a pair of seething eyes followed the two as they walked. Angered and betrayed, Alicent turned and walked away.

______________________________________________________________

When Aemond entered his chambers later that night, he was met with the burning gaze of his mother. His face remained stoic, and he slowly started to take off his belt that held his sword. 

“Mother. I did not expect you.” He spoke, his face illuminated by the fire as he sat in a chair, getting comfortable. His mother stood, standing in front of him as she glared down into her son's stoic expression. 

“You do not hide it well.” 

“I do not know what you speak of, mother.” 

Alicent gave Aemond a look, seeing straight through his stoic expression and hardened gaze. 

“You know what I speak of. You covet what is rightfully your brothers-” 

“Rightfully?” At these words, Aemond stood, glaring down at his mother with a complexed expression. “She is not rightfully Aegon’s. She is not rightfully the crowns-”

“She is his by law,” Alicent got right into her son's face, her hand pushing against his chest as she spoke. “By the law of the seven kingdoms she is his! You cannot parade around the castle, promenading as if you are an enthralled teenage boy courting a noble girl! She is married-” 

“You do not think I know what she is, mother? You do not think I see the ring she wears, or the name she bears now as a continuous tie to my brother?” The pain etched into the cracks of Aemond’s voice were subtle but not unnoticed. The way he spoke of his brother's wife with so much undignified and raw emotion made it clear to Alicent what he truly felt. Despite herself she sympathized with her son, trying to take his hands in hers as she spoke. 

“I understand, Aemond, how you feel. But you cannot go about so shamelessly coveting your brother's wife-the queen!” 

Aemond roughy pulled away from his mother, a sharp look hidden behind his amethyst  eyes as he spoke. 

"Do not speak to me as if my sorrows where your own!" Aemond seethed, pulling back a few paces as he glared at his mother, “Aegon is no husband! He may be my brother-my closest kin but he does not know how to properly care for her as I do. I know her mother, I know her wants, her desires, I know her more than Aegon has ever even tried to comprehend so damn all the gods and fuck Aegon because I would soon rather feed myself to Daemon’s dragon then let a man like Aegon sew his seed into her and ruin the beautiful women that the gods have given to me!”

The words coming out of her son’s mouth shocked Alicent. She never knew him to be so passionate about something-someone-so fiery as, gods be good, his brother’s wife. 

“Aemond she was never yours-” 

“She was,” his voice dropped and he stepped closer to his mother, breathing down as he glared, “The gods gave her to me, they made her for me! Her body was made to fit with mine, her soul was mine to know! Mother, it was all for me! But you? You are the one who gave her away to my brother. You are the one who took her from me.” 

Wishing for no more of this, Aemond turned, feeling himself breaking a little as he went. He knew he would never be hers, that she would never truly be his. 

______________________________________________________________

“You are troubled tonight.” 

She knew him better than he knew himself. Aemond’s head rested on her lap, her hand gently stroking through his platinum white hair. He breathed out slowly, his thumb idly stroking her knee. 

“I am thinking, sweet girl.” 

“I know that you are thinking, I just wish to know what it is you are thinking about.” 

At this he went silent. He knew no matter what lie he told her that she would always know the truth between the lies. So, instead, he sat up slowly and he gripped her cheek, kissing her softly. As if the words would be lost, and the meaning behind them burned. He made love to her like she was truly his, like she was his wife. As if..she wasn't even able to be coveted.

______________________________________________________________

[temiizpalace]

Ooh, maybe #6 with the tweels for the new event?

☆┊FIGHT ME. LIKE, ACTUALLY. (🦈 vs🐬)

SUMMARY: IT SEEMS THE ONLY WAY TO WIN YOUR LOVE WAS WITH A NICE SOLID QUICK LEFT HOOK TO THE JAW! (THEY FIGHT).

CHARACTERS: floyd leech vs. jade leech

EVENT MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: no determined end couple, jealousy, violence (punching and stuffs), minor blood

NOTES: leech twins fight is crazy. i appreciate you, anon. thank you for your request!

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

˚∘☆∘˚

jade was a patient man.

very patient. he’ll wait as long as he has to for something, including your love. he’ll do anything he needs to to win your love. tend to you, defend you, fight for you, serve you, just name it and it’s already done. he knew human courting rituals were far different from those of a moray eels, but he’s oh so willing to learn just for you.

his brother on the other hand..

impatient. if floyd wants something, he wants it then and there. which also includes your love and attention. if you don’t speak to him within 10 seconds of calling your name, he will pout about it and make everyone else’s day horrible. while this was usually where jade got most of his entertainment of the day, knowing his brother chose the same person to be his mate was incredibly irritating.

especially whenever he’s trying to court you. seven forbid..

“prefect, there you are.” jade smiles, standing behind you with a bag in his hands. “hm? oh, hi jade. need something?” you ask, noticing his body language is much more chipper than usual. “i actually have gotten something for you. a token of my gratitude and an invitation of sorts.” he hands you the gift bag, the weight being much heavier than you anticipated.

“woah! what’s in here?” you raise your brow, looking up at jade to ensure this wasn’t some prank. you knew that jade liked stupid jokes as much as his twin, despite his gentlemanly appearance. “you doubt me? how cruel, id never lie to you.” he wipes away a tear, a sad look on his face that was more than obviously fake.

“mhm.” you hum, looking through the bag. there were terrariums, small potted plants, packets of flower seeds, just anything and everything a gardener could hope for. “oh wow.. this is all for me?” you ask, trying to calculate the cost in your head.

“why, certainly. as i said before, this is a token of my gratitude and an invitation. i was wondering if you’d like to—”

“boo! there ya are shrimpyyy!” floyd giggles, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “GAH—! FLOYD, YOU SCARED ME.” you shout in return, unaware of jade’s murderous glare. “just what i was goin for! what’s in the bag?” he asks, already rummaging through it. “floyd.” jade states, his tone stern and slightly annoyed if you listened closely.

“hm? oh it’s from jade ain’t it? probably a ton of terrariums or somethin boring.” floyd scoffs, looking to his brother. jade couldnt help his eyebrow from twitching, finding his twins antics much more annoying than it usually was. normally this would provide entertainment, not fuel to a fire. “well, i think it’s a sweet gesture.” you shrug, fiddling with the handles of the bag.

“whatever. just a buncha leaves.” he mumbles, feeling his jade’s smug expression burning a hole into his head. your phone buzzes in your pockets before jade can comment, your eyes widening as a sign of your concern. “sorry guys, gotta run. grim got his ear stuck in a mousetrap and i don’t even wanna know how.” you sigh, running off with a wave.

the twins stare at each other, the silence awkward for the first time in forever. “alright jade, fess up. i know you’re tryna court the shrimp.” floyd grunts, jade only laughing smugly in response. “let’s not act like you don’t have similar intentions, floyd. you won’t believe how difficult it is if you’re always there to interject.” jade feigns distraught, knowing floyd doesn’t buy it.

“womp womp, not my fault im tryna court em at the same time as you.” he frowns, sticking it his tongue in retaliation. the tensions in the air were high. just stepping into the same room was enough to intimate the bystanders.

their antics continued for the whole day. floyd could come up to you, smiles and all, only for it to be dissipated as jade entered the room and swept you away. same thing for jade. he could be explaining to you the different types of mushrooms from his well tended garden, before sending his brothers presence a moment too late. floyd stomps in, picking you up, and running off. poor you, it’s been like this all week.

“i know you’re going to see em, jade. quit hogging!” floyd whines, shoving his twin out of the way as he tried walking out of the mostro lounge. “i wouldnt have to if you just waited your turn rather than be a thorn in my side.” jade scoffs, pushing his brother off of him. “haah? you askin to be squeezed? been awhile since we fought.” floyd scowls, grabbing his brothers arm.

“oya? id like to see you try.” jade chuckles, grabbing floyd’s in an attempt to toss him to the side. however, he doesn’t go down easily. floyd quickly grabs his brothers hand before he could strike, kneeing him in the stomach harshly. jade winced at the pain, but couldn’t give up now. not when his pearl is on the line.

floyd tries locking him into a hold, but jade was a quick thinker with quick reflexes. he elbows floyd aggressively, kicking him to the ground as he was stunned. floyd drags jade down, letting him hit the cold marble floor. they hit each other against the ground as blood trickled down their noses. floyd had stamina for days, but knew when he hit his limits. he free spirited, not stupid.

red stained the floors as panicking students ran to the board game club in hopes azul would stop this mess. luckily, someone else was able to manage things. “JADE AND FLOYD LEECH, WHAT THE SEVEN IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” the boys stopped in their fighting, turning towards the entrance of the lounge. it was you.

walking towards them with a frown, you separate the two from each other, tutting in disapproval. “what has gotten into you both lately?! all you guys ever do is fight now, i never thought it’d get like this.” you sigh, dragging them both by the hand into the kitchen. “oh my, it’s quite embarrassing for you to see me in such a state.” jade sighs, glaring at his equally beat up twin.

“tell me about it. if only someone didn’t try to rock my shit.” he hissed, wanting to grab at his brother for a second time. “don’t even think about it,” you groan, grabbing the first aid kit from the counters. you sat them onto the barstools outside and began to rub alcohol onto their wounds. bite marks, bruises, scars, scratches, just all kinds of injuries.

“i apologize for having you do this.” jade looks at you apologetically, actually looking genuine for once. “hehe, shrimpy it burns!” floyd giggles as the cotton swab grazed over his cuts. “don’t mention it, but you should probably get some guys to clean up before azul sees the blood on the floor.”

“of course. at your service.” jade smiles, bowing before you jokingly before ruffling your hair. “fineee. cleanings borin but azul forcing me to wait extra tables sounds worse.” floyd sighs, giving you a quick squeeze before grabbing a mop and bucket.

and as if on cue, you could hear azul scream in horror at the mess of his dining hall.

A/N: idk how to fight 🧍🧍

date published: 8/30/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[freyaphoria]

hey luv!! not sure how much are you into 'spanking' but, I was wondering if you would make a reaction of Yan!Matz, Seonghwa catching you escape while Hj is not at home so Hwa spanks you/punishes you?👉👈

I know that Hwa would probably tell Hj but I would really like to see how Seonghwa would punish her😭

(btw i'm in love with ur stories, keep going and take some time to rest🖤)

a/n: When you sent me this request at night, I screamed and started writing at 4 a.m. This request may have opened up my writer's block thank you soooo much♡

Dark Side (partI)

tw: spanking, restriction with ropes, dragging, failed escape attempt, yandere!Seonghwa, hair pulling, kinda force feeding, hurt-comfort, punishment and aftercare, crying

wc: 3.7k

taglist: @aim-blossom @bambisd0ll @oddracha @peqchplvto

part 2 ->

Your hands trembled uncontrollably as you grasped the handle of the back door, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. How could they have been so careless as to leave it unlocked? The realization dawned on you as the cold air rushed in, caressing your face with its crisp touch. You stood there, frozen in disbelief, as the door swung open, revealing the vast expanse of the backyard and the towering pine trees that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. This moment felt surreal, as if you were standing on the precipice of a new reality.

This was the first moment you found yourself so close to freedom. For the first time, you felt that escape was truly within reach, especially with Hongjoong away from the house. In a normal situation, you would have been settled on the couch watching TV while Seonghwa busied himself in the kitchen preparing dinner. But your mind was elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of escaping.

You thought about telling Seonghwa and escaping together. But what he told you yesterday showed that he was gradually deteriorating psychologically, that his admiration for Hongjoong had escalated to a concerning level, one that left you feeling uneasy about his willingness to escape alongside you. Convincing him to leave in that moment felt impossible. Maybe, in a few weeks, you could plant the seeds of doubt in his mind, but right now, it just wasn’t feasible. You simply could not let this opportunity slip away when it was right in front of you. When you came back with the police, you were going to save Seonghwa and put the evil in jail.

With each silent step towards the door, the possibility of freedom made your heart race even faster.Could you truly manage to escape? You had lost track of how long you had been trapped here, and you questioned your ability to readjust to the outside world after such a prolonged period of isolation. All these thoughts filled your veins with more adrenaline, and you could hear your heart beating.

You found yourself standing at the threshold, that thin line separating captivity from liberty. Instinctively, you glanced back, scanning for any sign that Seonghwa might have noticed your absence. You imagined the scenario if he had caught you: his gentle voice calling out, "Angel, come here," followed by report to Hongjoong. But to your relief, there was no sign of him. You were alone, unobserved, with the path to freedom clear before you.

Your foot made contact with the small marble stone at the entrance of the garden, its cold surface sending a shiver through your body, it was a sensation both foreign and familiar. You started to walk quickly and felt that soft grass beneath your feet that you hadn't felt in weeks, maybe months. You moved quickly through the garden, the taste of freedom already filling your spirit. The ability to move without fear, without the looming threat of Hongjoong, was intoxicating. But there was something you missed: The kitchen window looked out onto the backyard.

When Seonghwa saw you speeding through the backyard, he muttered a curse under his breath and quickly left the kitchen. The back door hung wide open, a reminder that he had forgotten to close it when he stepped out earlier to tend to the flowers. Seonghwa was shocked to see you walking past the edge of the yard and heading towards the thick forest nearby. He knew he was in big trouble. The thought of Hongjoong returning home in this moment made his stomach drop; if he found both of you outside, he would kill both of you. Seonghwa knew he had to go after you. Hongjoong had told him to do whatever it took to keep you here while he was gone.

He didn't call out to you, thinking that if he called out to you, you would panic and start running faster. Instead, he ran towards you silently but quickly, his footsteps muffled by the soft grass beneath. Your heart raced in your chest, and your breaths came in quick bursts, anxiety coursing through your veins. In an instant, Seonghwa was upon you. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, and with a forceful motion, he threw you down onto the soft grass. The air was knocked from your lungs as you hit the ground, and confusion set in.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Seonghwa's voice was sharp and raw with emotion as he positioned himself over you, pinning your arms to the sides, using his body weight to keep you down. His eyes, normally warm and inviting, now showed both anger and distress, with his messy hair falling over his forehead from the effort of chasing you. The sudden aggression from the usually calm Seonghwa caught you off guard, causing you to instinctively lash out. Your legs flailed wildly as you attempted to kick him off, your mind momentarily confusing him with Hongjoong in your panicked state. "Are you out of your mind?! Did you think you could escape that easily?!" Seonghwa's grip tightened as he shouted, one of his hands released your arm, only to grasp your face roughly, his fingers digging into your cheeks. "Seonghwa, what are you doing?! You’re the one who’s out of your mind!" you cried out, struggling against his iron grip. "Let me go! Your voice grew higher with panic. Seonghwa, out of breath, kept holding you down and grew frustrated trying to make you understand the seriousness of the situation. Your pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Let you go?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with disbelief. "What do you mean by let you go?" His hand released your face, only to seize your arm once more as he began to forcibly drag you back towards the house. "Don't you understand? You belong to me just as much as you do to Hongjoong. Did you think I’d just let you escape from us?!”

His words hit you like a jolt. You had never witnessed this side of Seonghwa before—so unyielding and forceful—but amidst the chaos, fear for your safety was absent. You thought you still had time before Hongjoong arrived to learn your escape attempt and avoid the fallout, and that Seonghwa would save you from Hongjoong's ruthless punishment. But in that moment, you couldn't have been more wrong.

Your arm throbbed with pain as you struggled against Seonghwa's iron grip, his strength far beyond what you had imagined. "Seonghwa! Please, it hurts!" you cried out, your voice laced with desperation. As he forcefully dragged you across the ground, your clothes caught on the rough terrain, tearing and collecting smears of grass and dirt. "Shut up, you asked for this!" he barked back, his tone sharp and harsh, devoid of any hint of sympathy or concern, as if he were completely indifferent to your suffering.

The journey home was too quick, and you realized you couldn’t get very far. As soon as you reached home, he threw you to the ground, knocking the air out of your lungs. Seonghwa then slammed the door with a force that echoed through the house. You winced, rubbing your sore arm from his tight grip. "I can't believe you," Seonghwa's voice cut through the air, harsh and devoid of its usual warmth. It was as if the gentle Seonghwa you knew had vanished, replaced by a doppelganger channeling Hongjoong's ruthlessness. "I thought I could trust you. I thought I didn't need to watch you 24/7." He closed the distance between you and knelt down, his hand gripping your hair, pulling your head up to meet his gaze. "But I was wrong," he said, his voice heavy with rage. Fear crept into your spine as he hovered over you, in this moment, he seemed even more terrifying than Hongjoong. While Hongjoong's actions were often predictable in their cruelty, Seonghwa now resembled a ticking time bomb, leaving you uncertain of when or how he might explode.

"Seonghwa, why are you so angry—" you began, but he cut you off. “You ran,” he said, tightening his grip on your hair until it became painful. You squirmed, desperate for the agony to cease. “I'm sorry!” you cried out, your hands fumbling to loosen his grip. “I didn’t ask if you were fucking sorry,” he retorted, his tone deeper, more menacing than you had ever heard. Fear began to course through your veins, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

Seonghwa was thinking about what he would do to you; he stared at you with a stern expression, his mind racing with worries about what could happen next. If he told Hongjoong about your attempt to escape, he would face serious consequences, especially since the escape happened because of his own mistake. He might even risk damaging his relationship with Hongjoong. After a moment of thought, Seonghwa decided it was best to deal with the situation on his own and not inform Hongjoong.

His jaw tightened as he watched you tremble more and more with fear. "Get up," he commanded, finally releasing his grip on your hair. "Hwa-" you started to protest, but he cut you off sharply. "Get up and go to the basement." Your eyes widened in disbelief and fear. The basement? Seonghwa had never before demanded such a thing from you. "What are you saying-" you stammered, only to be interrupted once more. "If you want to keep this from reaching Hongjoong, you'll go to the basement. Now!" he snapped, urgency dripping from his words.

You began a slow, hesitant walk towards the stairs, but Seonghwa's patience had evidently worn thin; he forcefully shoved you down, your feet stumbling to maintain balance as he flung open the heavy metal door. The chill of the basement air hit you like a wall, and the darkness felt heavy.

You dared not speak; his demeanor had changed to someone frightening and dominant, similar to Hongjoong when he's stern. Seonghwa closed the door behind you, the sound echoing loudly, and then grabbed your arm, pulling you toward an old couch in the dimly lit room. With Hongjoong still hours away from returning home, you realized how vulnerable you were. Seonghwa had the power to do whatever he wanted with you during this time, without anyone to stop him or even make a peep about it, sent a shiver down your spine. The basement suddenly felt more stifling than ever, closing in around you as you faced the unknown intentions of this new, frightening version of Seonghwa.

He settled into the couch, an aura of dominance radiating from him. Just as you were about to ask him what he was going to do, he yanked you onto his lap, positioning you face down with his knees pressing into your stomach. "Seonghwa! What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Panic filled your voice, but he was unfazed. In a swift motion, he tore off your already tattered shorts, fabric ripping as though it were paper. The moment you opened your mouth to protest further, he silenced you by crumpling your shorts and stuffing part of them into your mouth. You were taken aback, the fabric blocking your protest. Your hands instinctively went to remove the makeshift gag, but before you could, he seized both of your arms and bound them tightly behind your back with a rope you couldn’t even begin to fathom where he had found it. Now, you found yourself in a vulnerable position—sitting on his lap, face down, your backside fully exposed while your shorts muffled any cries for help. With your arms securely tied, you could do nothing but wait in confusion and dread for whatever he had planned next. The rush of blood to your cheeks was overwhelming as you squirmed, trying to regain some semblance of control, but he had you pinned, and the ropes tightened with every movement you made.

“Let’s get this over with before Hongjoong shows up,” he murmured with a hint of urgency, “I can’t have him finding out it was my fault the door was left open.” With that, he grasped the sides of your panties, adjusting them with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers down your spine, fully revealing your exposed skin. You wriggled slightly, desperation creeping in, but his grip was unyielding, and he quickly absorbed your resistance. His warm hand glided across your backside, gently at first, before suddenly delivering a sharp slap that echoed off the walls of the room. A muffled scream escaped your mouth as the pain shot through you—both a shock and a burn that lingered. He began to rub the spot he had just slapped, the gentle caress contrasting harshly with the sting. Each time you attempted to shift away, he would pull you back down into position, maintaining control over you.

“Hongjoong won't know about your little escape attempt or that I’m punishing you. Do you understand?" His words were firm, filled with a mix of warning and authority. The heat of embarrassment surged up your neck and across your face as you tried to understand what was happening. It was all too much. When the next slap landed, intensifying the throbbing pain in your ass cheek, you flinched involuntarily, mixing fear and humiliation. “Understood?” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. You nodded frantically. “Good girl. Now be a good little girl and accept your punishment.” Each blow that followed wasn’t just a physical hit but a toll on your spirit, the redness spreading across your skin becoming unbearable as tears threatened to spill.

"How many steps did you take outside? Fifteen? Twenty?" His grip didn’t loosen as he began to cup and rub your sore skin, contrasting sharply with the pain he had just caused. When he finally removed the fabric from your mouth, you coughed and struggled to catch your breath. His hands were soon back on your skin, delivering another loud slap, the echo causing your heart to race. “I asked you a question!” The authority mixed with anger in his voice had you trembling; you felt completely vulnerable and utterly at his mercy. “I-I don’t know!” you stammered, desperation clawing at your insides as the pain continued to radiate. “Give me a number or I’ll treat you as if you took a hundred steps and punish you accordingly.”

It all clicked into focus—he intended to deliver a spanking for every step you confessed to taking outside. Panic washed over you as you scrambled for a response, understanding that each number corresponded to another blow. “Maybe… eight? Nine? Hwa, I’m so sorry! I promise it won’t happen again!” You winced as another strike landed hard, pain surging through your entire body. A shrill scream burst from your lips, tears streaming down your face as you felt utterly broken. “You can’t even make it to the basement door in eight steps! You definitely took at least twenty.” The realization of how many more strikes you would have to endure set in, fear gripping you tightly. “Seonghwa, please! It hurts!” You could feel the ropes digging into your wrists as you writhed in discomfort, helpless under his control. “Count!” His voice was steady but filled with a tone that no longer held any traces of affection. There was now a different Seonghwa standing before you, far removed from the person you once knew. The Seonghwa that Hongjoong had molded through his rigorous training and relentless expectations had emerged, bearing the marks of his newfound identity. Park Seonghwa, with his warmth and kindness, was a ghost of the past, replaced entirely by Kim Seonghwa, terrifying and merciless, with traces of Hongjoong in his personality.

"I'll take it as four so far. Count from here. But if you miss, you start over."

You were lying down with a cold compress pressed against your swollen eyes, a result of the tears that had flowed so freely just moments before. Your eyes were puffy and red, and the ice was meant to numb the sting and reduce the swelling and since you couldn’t sit down, you were lying down and eating the fruits that Seonghwa had prepared for you to comfort you and apologize in his own way, which he forced into your mouth even though you shook your head as no. Your favorite show flickered on the TV screen, providing a backdrop to the tense atmosphere. Your head rested in Seonghwa's lap, his hands multitasking - one soothingly rubbing your back while the other continued to offer forkfuls of juicy peach to your lips. The silence between you was palpable; you hadn't uttered a word since the punishment, your last spoken syllable being the final count of "twenty."

There was about an hour until Hongjoong arrived and in that hour, you both had to put everything back to how it was and act like nothing had happened. You could find an excuse for crying, but you didn't know what excuse to come up with for not being able to sit at the dinner table. After Seonghwa finished shoving the last remaining slice of peach in your mouth, the taste still lingering, he tenderly caressed your hair, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on your head. “I need to get back to making dinner before he arrives. Can you manage to stay by yourself for a bit?” You didn’t respond; silence enveloped the space between you, your gaze fixed on the TV screen, your mind hardly registering anything at all. The sharp, burning sensation in your lower body remained, a reminder of everything.

"Angel, please say something. You're making me worry," Seonghwa said, his voice filled with concern. You looked at him and saw his worried eyes and guilt. You reminded yourself that Seonghwa was just following orders and his feelings were shaped by manipulation. He was just doing his job and wasn’t to blame for this situation; he was a victim of Hongjoong's manipulation too. You knew running away would lead to punishment, and you had indeed been punished harshly. Your feelings towards Seonghwa were complicated; you weren’t really angry with him, more so upset by the dynamics that had forced you both into this situation. Yet, the tension was thick in the air. If only he had chosen to overlook your escape, perhaps downplaying it with a simple warning 'not to do it again'. However, that wasn’t Seonghwa’s way. His sense of duty drove him to enforce the rules. The thought of what Hongjoong might do if he discovered your escape hung over you like a dark cloud. Past punishments had left scars—physical and emotional—and the fear of more severe consequences loomed large over you.

“Seonghwa?” you finally broke the silence, your gaze still intensely focused on him. “You won’t tell Hongjoong, right?” Fear crept into your voice as the thought of another punishment sent chills through your spine. Your body was still recovering, aching from the last punishment, and the thought of enduring more pain was unbearable. "As long as you don't make it obvious, I won't have to tell him," Seonghwa assured you. You understood the implication - if Hongjoong sensed anything amiss, there would be no stopping him from digging deeper, and Seonghwa, unable to bear the weight of it all, would be compelled to share everything that had happened. You found yourself desperate to maintain a façade, aware that any hint of suspicion could unravel everything. Despite the persistent pain, you knew you had to summon the strength to act as though nothing was amiss - to sit through dinner and participate in whatever activities Hongjoong might propose afterward.

Seonghwa gently took your hands, examining your wrists and massaging them softly. "There are no visible marks here," he observed, placing a kiss on each wrist before carefully returning them to your sides. "You should rest now. If dinner isn't ready when he arrives, he'll grow suspicious." With careful precision, he lifted your head from his lap, placing a pillow beneath it before kissing your forehead once more. “If you need anything at all, just call out, and I’ll be right there,” he promised, his tone filled with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the icy fear that gripped your heart. If only Hongjoong could show just a fraction of that care. Even when he punished you, if he could take the time to heal the wounds he inflicted and offer a shred of comfort, perhaps you wouldn’t harbor such deep-seated resentment towards him.

This was the first time you saw Seonghwa’s dark side and the first time you witnessed Seonghwa's darker nature, and it filled you with a deep sense of fear that you had never felt before. Up until this moment, you had held onto the belief that he might be an ally in your desperate situation, someone who could empathize with you. After all, Seonghwa himself had been a victim of that crazy bastard, just like you. You once thought that if a chance arose for escape, he would be the person to help you, or at the very least, he would choose to ignore your attempts to flee. However, that hopeful perspective began to shatter before your eyes.When he caught you trying to escape and forcefully pulled you back into the house, you still clung to the flicker of hope that perhaps he would guide you to safety. Maybe he would suggest taking the front entrance. But after telling you to go to the basement and punishing you for almost an hour - because you forgot what number you were at halfway through and started over - you realized that Seonghwa was actually just like Hongjoong, only more merciful. And as your idea of running away with him was completely ruined. The realization that you had to tread carefully around Seonghwa was a harsh lesson learned, leaving you feeling more trapped than ever in this nightmarish reality.

Part 2 ->

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Animal Instinct

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, violence, and dark elements

My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your love of animal attracts a new type of beast. 

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Dedicated to my dear @honeybee-reads

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Barley is at your heels as you throw out a handful of peanuts into the grass. The squirrels scale down the trees and the crows plunge down to steal a few for themselves. Chipmunks pop up from their burrows and cluster around the next scatter you toss. There are a few brave enough to come up and claim a shell directly from your hand. 

You watch the critters for a while then grab the bag of seed to fill the feeder. You pour into the opening in the top of the house-shaped trough. A rush of feathers and tweets comes in response and you back up to watch the birds eat. 

Your life is simple. Quiet. And small. It’s just you, your dog, Barley, and whatever other creatures wander this far out. 

You sit on the steps and scratch Barley’s head. You’re startled as he pops up onto all fours and bounds across the yard. You call after him but he doesn’t respond. 

He stops, fixated on the brush. Even in the morning light, there are pockets of shadow nestled between the leaves and branches. You call him again, even whistle, but he just stands and stares. His ears are back, his tail low. There’s hardly a moment when he isn’t wagging incessantly. 

The hair on the back of your neck stands up. He’s never done that. Not even when that coyote showed up by the fire one night. He usually tries to play with anything he finds. 

You get up and look around. You grab the garden shove and slowly approach the brown labrador. His nose is sniffing, his head moving subtly, as he stares into the bushes. 

You peer out but don’t see much. There’s a waft of pine and dirt but nothing else. Your nose isn’t as strong as his. 

“Bar,” you touch his head and he flinches, stamping his feet, then spins and wiggles his butt happily as if he hadn’t noticed you. 

You scratch behind his ear and turn back, commanding him back to the house. He looks off again into the woods before he obeys. You walk together to the back porch. You notice then how the birds and squirrels and all have disappeared; the feeder is still full and some peanuts still litter the grass. 

As you go inside, you realize you still have the shovel in hand. You don’t know what you expected to ward off with it. You put it on the ledge of the kitchen window. You try to shake off the strange feeling gnawing at you. 

When you looked into the trees, you saw nothing, but you felt something. Like you were seen by whatever you could not spot. Barley pushes his cold nose into your palm. You stroke his nose as much to comfort yourself as him. 

You distract yourself with your usual chores. You feed Barley and yourself. You sit and eat at the table. Then you wash the dishes and put them away. You sweep up the dirt you tracked in then hunker down to read. 

You get through half a chapter before you grow restless. Barley’s tapping around the kitchen, no doubt looking for stray morsels. You go out to put the kettle on and let him into the back. You can see him through the back window. Besides he doesn’t go very far. 

You watch him pee and circle around the grass. You set the kettle on the burner but keep from turning it on. You look back to the window as Barley hurdles towards the trees barking. 

“Woah!” You race to the back door. 

You stagger out to catch him but he’s gone before you’re halfway to the trees. You stop before them, breathless. You shout for him, whistle for him. You plunge through the bushes only to be flung back. The hand on your throat sends you sprawling across the grass. 

You hit your ass and whimper as the pang in your tailbone tingles to your toes. You prop yourself up on your elbows and gape at the man standing before you. His dark hair is filthy, his beard and face too. He looks feral as his blue eyes glimmer at you and his fists ball tightly as he growls. 

He steps closer and you push yourself back with your heels and hands. You have no chance to wonder how he got there or why he’s there. He lunges on you and you cry out. 

“Ah, please,” you whine. 

His hand covers your mouth and he snarls again. You stare up at him, horrified as he straddles you between his knees. He tilts his head, his lip curling like predator before a feast. Shanks of his dusty brown hair fall forward and shadow his features. 

He reaches back and dislodges something from the back of his belt. He raises the knife with the hooked tip and you writhe as you clasp onto his wrist. He aims it at you and swings it down. He stops it just above your cheek and hushes you. 

You quiet and blink as your eyes gloss with terror. He pokes you lightly with the blade and peels his hand from your mouth. You lay paralysed on the grass, your body locked up with fear. He drags the blade along your jaw and throat. 

He bears his teeth as he trails down your chest and snags the top of your shirt. He cuts through the fabric, backing up as he rents it open to the hem. He comes to rest above your pelvis as your breaths turn shallow and rampant. 

He uses the knife to push aside the shorn fabric and his eyes drink in the sight of your torso. He slips the blade beneath the front of your bra and snaps it easily. You curl your fingers into the dirt, crushing strands of grass, as he bends over you. 

His nose touches yours and he growls again. He nuzzles you roughly then pinches your lower lip between his teeth. You quiver as he nipples on it then proceeds to drag his nose down your chin. He retraces the path along your throat and curls his shoulders as he gropes one side of your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. 

Your cheeks wet as your fear spills over. He kneads your flesh, suckling and teething, snarling as the pressure plucks inside of you. He inhales, as if smelling you as much as tasting you. 

His hand crawls down your stomach as his other comes up to press the knife against your neck. You flatten yourself as much as you can. He picks at the laces of your drawstring pants. He tugs and rolls them down as he lifts himself on his knees. 

He shoves his hand between your thighs. You whimper but don’t resist. You’re too confused to do anything but let him. He swipes two fingers along the crease of your lips then delves between them. You squeak in surprise as he flicks over your clit. He swirls around it until you quake even harder. 

He sits back on his heels and watches himself place with you. He drags the knife down to trace lazily around your tits as he rubs between your folds. You slicken at his unwelcome touch. Shame speckles across your flesh. 

He pushes his hand further back and bends his fingers. He dips inside of you and you croak. You seal your lips and turn your face away. He slips in and out, as if exploring you, seeing how much he can do. 

He turns the knife in his hand and holds it flat over your stomach. He slowly pulls his fingers free and wipes your juices along your thigh. He bunches your pants at your knees and hooks his arm around your legs. He bends them as high as he can and lets them rest against his shoulder as he repositions himself. 

He leans on you as he unloops his arm from your legs. He reaches behind them and shifts on his knees. You close your eyes and dig your fingertips into the dirt. 

He growls again and he brings the swollen head of his dick along the back of your thigh. He brushes it up and down, smearing precum along your skin. He teases you with it until you’re whining and wriggling. 

He angles down and puts his tip against your thighs. Your legs part just enough for him to dip between. He uses his thump to push himself against your cunt. He stretches you around him, just an inch inside, and he takes a breath. He groans and brings his hand around to splay across your soft stomach. 

Your legs bend slightly, your feet just above his shoulder. You brace yourself and heave. You choke on your sobs as he forces your legs up even further. He snaps his hips and impales you in a single thrust. You shriek and arch your back, reaching to touch his hip. Ow. 

He snarls and does it again, lingering deep in you as he wiggles, testing your limit. You weep and latch onto the top of his slack pants. You shudder and dare to look at him, your lashes webbed with teardrops. 

“Please,” you beg. 

He ruts again and your voice evaporates. His eyes dilate, black almost to the rims, and he pounds into you with his long, punctuated strokes. Snap, snap, snap. Each thrust crushes you further into the dirt as he folds your legs higher and higher. 

You dig your nails into his forearm and bite your tongue. The pain is excruciating, but what’s worse, is that it doesn’t all hurt. As your body slowly awakens, responding to the rare touch, to his proximity, there’s worse than the physical invasion.  

There’s shame. There’s the awareness of everything single detail of your body and his. There’s the battle of pain and pleasure. Of you and him. And as you long for him to stop, you want just as badly for him to keep going. 

[katerinasas]

call it what you want 🩰

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

in which mrs snow finds something she must keep. and who his coriolanus to tell her no?

-

the garden behind the presidents mansion was beautiful, no doubt about it. coriolanus snow married his wife back there and he watched her from the window of their bedroom as she worked in it in all her free time and whenever the uv was above a 7.

he insisted he hire a gardener to “protect her pretty hands” but she declined over and over again. it was her outlet. her one “real” hobby that didn’t involve hiding away in the grand library coriolanus built for her.

large green bushes she trimmed so delicately and the stone path she’d managed to put in place her self. orange, red, pink, and yellow flowers everywhere with small blue ones trickled without. coriolanus had put a picnic table in it where they ate on occasion.

the only thing she didn’t like was the fence that guarded it to keep people and cameras out. it wasn’t very pretty, but as first lady secret services insisted, and so did coriolanus. it kept her hard work from public eye and left it only to be seen in photos inside magazines that didn’t do it justice. but the fence seemed to have failed.

kneeled in dirt, her gold necklace with a ‘C’ engraved in it hanging over it, she planted strawberry seeds in hopes they’d actually be good this year. focused on what she was doing, trying to avoid a repeat of last years berries, her focus dropped as she heard a weak meow. she turned around, only to hear it again. she stood, wiping her dirty hands on her pants, walking along the path in hopes of finding the source when suddenly she saw her.

a small kitten. she was light brown with dark spots, almost like a cheetah. mrs snow had not a clue how the animal had gotten in, but it must’ve been fate, she thought. “hi,” she whispered, kneeling down and gently reaching forward. the kitten meowed and she took that as her way of saying “yes, you can pick me up.”

she held the kitten all day long, leaving her in her lap when she read and holding her in one arm as she helped one of the snow’s maids, clarissa, with a task. she was already in love with the small animal as she waited for her husband to get home, ready to beg and plead to keep it.

“hmm,” she hummed gently to the kitten. she sat in her lap at the piano, mrs snow’s fingers gently playing soft chords as she stared down at her. “what about… lorelei?” the kitten stood and did a little spin bringing a laugh out of her. “you like that?”

“like what?” coriolanus echoed from the foyer, dropping his keys on the table. “i didn’t know you were having company, darli-”

“suprise,” she said with a smile, standing from the bench, holding the kitten to her chest. “i found her in the garden. i don’t know how she got in but,” she frowned, running a finger down her nose. “it rained last night, it must’ve been awful.”

coriolanus stood over her, a firm hand on her shoulder. “well, you must know we can’t keep it,” he said as if it was obvious. his hand brushed over his wife’s head, refusing to acknowledge the cat because he was sure if he did he’d give in.

“no i don’t. why can’t we?” she moved out from his touch, holding the kitten up to his eyes. “please, coryo?”

“no,” he swallowed, doing his best not to give into her temptation. they couldn’t have a cat. it didn’t seem… scary to him. not presidential, not like the pet of a man who led a country and 12 districts.

but his wife was persistent. she frowned up at him, holding the cat to her chest as she purred. “coryo,” she whined. “look at her. she’s just a baby. her mom was out of sight, i looked, and she already likes me. she even picked out her name.”

“i said-”

“please?” she gave him her best puppy eyes, her free hand on his chest.

coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek before sighing. “i guess.” he stumbled back as his wife pulled him into a side hug, kissing his cheek over and over again. red lipstick prints covered his face as she offered him the cat which he took with a small smirk. “what name did she pick?”

“lorelei,” she smiled.

“hm,” he nodded, holding the creature awkwardly. “i like it.” after a few moments he looked up. “you’re impossible to say no to, you know that?”

his wife only smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you love me.”

“you’re a master manipulator and i’m an easy target or i love you, call it what you want.”

“i’ll call it you love me,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him softly.

“then i guess i’ll call it that, too,” he said, his arm holding her close to him as the pair smiled at the new member of their family.

saw this kitty on pinterest and knew what i had to do.

I LOVE CATS!!!!!!!!!

#cantspellcatswithoutTS

[cheeekycharchar]

The Forbidden Fruit, Choices and Fear

[A GOOD OMENS META ANALYSIS OF AZIRAPHALE POST S2] I know everyone is still upset about that gut punch of an ending to GO S2.. and many are also extra upset at Aziraphale.. I'm in so much pain over it too but.. I have to rationalize that damned "I forgive you" line that broke all our hearts to comfort me until we get S3.. I basically overanalyze our favorite cocoa loving Angel to explain his reaction to the kiss and why we all need to be a lil kinder to him.

2500 BC in the Land of Uz.. Aziraphale, the Angel of the Eastern Gate, had the fear of God put into him. And this affected the rest of his immortal life up until that kiss.

Angels, after the Fall and the great war between Heaven and Hell, had the fear of the Almighty's wrath put into them. They all fell in line and stayed in line. Or else they'd end up like their fallen brethren.. or worse. But there was one lil Angel that had since toed that line..

"Didn't you have a flaming sword? Yeah, it was flaming like anything." "…Gaveitaway.." "You what?" "I gave it away!" As far as we've seen, this is the first time Aziraphale did something "bad". And he's already feeling the pressure. The guilt. The fear. He didn't follow the rules. He didn't do exactly as he was told. And suddenly, here's a Demon slithering up next to him and making him doubt his choice even more. The same Demon that snuck past the guardians of Eden and tempted the first human's into eating the apple, breaking the rules and getting them kicked out of paradise on Earth.

"Bit of an over reaction if you ask me. First offence and everything. I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway. "Well, it must be bad.. [..] Otherwise.. you wouldn't have tempted them into it." "Not very subtle of the Almighty, though. Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a 'Don't Touch' sign. Makes you wonder what God's really planning." "Best not to speculate. It's all part of the Great Plan. It's not for us to understand. It's ineffable. It is beyond understand and incapable of being put into words."

Already the seeds of doubt are tinkering in his mind. Stay in line. No more questioning the Almighty's plans. That's what got all the bad Angels thrown out of Heaven and then Adam and Eve exiled too.

"I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing." "Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing." "Oh, thank you. It's been bothering me." "I've been worrying, too. What if I did the right thing with the whole 'eat the apple' business? A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one." *chuckles* "..No. It wouldn't be funny at all!"

And then we get to season two's opening reveal. Crowley and Aziraphale had actually met before the wall of Eden.

"But that's idiocy!" {…} "It's not our job to advise the Almighty on the details of creation." "Well, then whose job is it?" {…} "Well, if I was the one running it all, I'd like it if someone asked questions. Fresh point of view."

And thanks to Aziraphale mentioning the Great Plan to Angel Crowley.. it put seeds of doubt into his mind. Making him question the Almighty's plans.

".. I'd hate to see you getting into any trouble." "Thanks for your help. And thanks for your advice. I wouldn't worry though. How much trouble can I get into just for asking a few questions?"

And then 10 million Angels fell. Kicked out of Heaven and marked as evil, unforgivable, and without God's love for eternity. Then we get the flashback to the story of a a prosperous man of outstanding piety named Job and how his life was destroyed because of a bet between God and Satan to test his faith even in adversity.

"What did he [Job] do? "Job? Nothing. Job's the nicest man in the world. That's why he's so perfect for the bet. You see, God was saying how righteous Job was and how much Job loved God. And Satan pointed out-- that maybe that was just 'cause God's been so nice to him. ..God's letting Satan destroy everything Job has. And then we'll see."

Now remember, the great flood wasn't too long ago. Where the Almighty wiped out nearly all of the human race with a big storm cause they were tetchy aka simply irritable, bad-tempered and annoyed. So this time, Aziraphale actually questions Heaven about this bet when he finds out that Job's children will be killed.

"Trust in God's plan, Aziraphale. Always." "Of course. So, once Job's trials are over, everything is restored to him?" "Even better than that. God will reward him with twice as much as he had before." {…} "I think they quite like the old ones [Job's children].. And if.. we kill them-" "-Aziraphale… we are the good guys. We're not killing anyone. What we are doing is simply not stopping hell. What they do is up to them."

His faith is wavering. He can hardly believe that Heaven would actually destroy a good man's family without truly understanding the fragility and consequences of human life/death; all to test him on a bet.

"Are we sure that Sitis wants to give birth four more times?"

Furthermore, they would be forcing Job's wife to give birth 7 more times despite Aziraphale's warning of them loving their original 3 children and that Sitis may not actually want to give birth to more children at her age. Hence taking away her choice. But thankfully, good ol' Crowley is the worst demon ever and is secretly protecting Job's children and goats. Something they're keeping between the two of them. And then during this deception… Crowley tempts Aziraphale with his first bite of food.

"Have an ox rib." "Are you trying to tempt me?" "Not at all. Angels can't be tempted, can you?" "Certainly not." "Well, there you are then. You're free to try the food."

A temptation he quickly falls into. A choice to eat the food and enjoy it to gluttony. Another sin under his belt. In the end, Virtuous Job passed his test but had the shit reward in return. Except Crowley and Aziraphale secretly saved the children.. which lead to Aziraphale lying straight to Heaven.. again.

And this is where he finally falls apart.

"I'm ready to go." "Go where?" "To Hell." {….} "But you have to. I'm like you now.. A demon.." "You think you're a demon?" "I'm a fallen angel! I lied.. To thwart the will of God." "Well yeah, you did, but I'm not gonna tell anybody. ..Are you?" *shakes head no* "No. Then nothing has to change, does it?" "…But what am I?" "You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can." "That sounds um.." "Lonely?" "Yeah. But you said it wasn't." "I'm a demon. I lied."

As Crowley always tells him- Demons lie. And Aziraphale lied. Again. And now they're keeping this huge secret between the two of them. To never be spoken of or else possibly face the wrath of God. THIS scene right in this minisode here is SUCH an important part of Aziraphale's character and his future choices. And that's what it's all about, isn't it? Choices? The ability to choose between good and evil.

"Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked." "Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle." "Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have."

What we learn from this wee Scottish body snatching story is that something can be seen as evil but could actually be a good deed from a different perspective. And that Aziraphale truly believed that the lower you start, the more opportunities you could have. But he also believes in divine punishment. Punishment that can be dealt at any time for any thing. Big or small. From a few questions that make you lose God's love to selling corpses for survival money and accidentally getting your best friend killed or just having too much faith in God could destroy everything in your life for a bet. All of which he has witnessed with someone good (Crowley, Job, Elspeth, etc) losing everything that's important to them in the most horribly way. But Aziraphale remembers the hard lessons he learned; of inequality and responsibility of your actions and the choices you make.

Someone born into poverty doesn't get as much out of life as someone born into a rich lifestyle. Or.. a lowly snake and a lowly principality falling in love and being forgiven may not be as easily dismissed as a Duke of Hell and Archangel finding love in one another and simply being allowed to run away to the stars together without any punishment. It's all of these moments, these lessons that Aziraphale learns throughout the years that change his view on life but he still remembers the wrath of God throughout existence. Something as little as a question could get you kicked out of Heaven, eating an apple could get you banished from paradise or you could be the most faithful perfect and loved person and still have your entire life destroyed over a bet. What does he know most about the Almighty? They're "tetchy" and unpredictable.

"Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate. Where is the flaming sword I gave you, Aziraphale, to guard the Gate of Eden?"

He then conceals the truth to God themselves of the choice he made to give humanity a fighting chance of survival by giving his holy sword away. And is left alone without another word. Forced to walk on egg shells for the rest of his existence out of fear.

"So, giving the mortals a flaming sword. How did that work out for you?" "The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again.." "Probably a good thing."

That fear of the unknown consequences to his past actions.. his lies.. for good or for bad.. he could fall at any moment or lose everything he holds precious (aka his Angel-ness and Crowley).

"I'm not an idiot, Crowley. Do you know what trouble I'd be in if.. if they knew I'd been fraternizing? It's completely out of the question." "Fraternizing?!" "Well, whatever you wish to call it. I do not think there is any point in discussing it further."

So what does he always do? Deflects.. to protect himself. To protect Crowley. Not saying the real truth out loud. Keeping the reality of their relationship an unsaid secret like always.

But sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

"Should I say thank you?" "Better not."

Yet again, he breaks the rules. Doesn't even want to hear a thank you. Again, it must all go unsaid.

"You go too fast for me."

Crowley has always been one step ahead of him. Asking questions, falling, breaking the rules, etc. Aziraphale isn't ready yet. He's not ready to lose everything he holds dear to him by admitting out loud all of his sinful choices or else face the punishment he's been fearing for thousands of years.

"Go off together?" "How long have we been friends? Six thousand years."

Aziraphale starts panicking here. Crowley is saying too much out loud. Deny deny deny.

"Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you."

This bandstand breakup was literally Aziraphale freaking out about doing too many bad things dealing with the whole anti-Christ situation and Crowley getting too close to saying what they truly are to each other. But the fear is too much and he lies again. But this time to himself. Aziraphale has only ever wanted to do the good thing. To make the correct choices. To be on the right side. But he's always faltered. Made choices that he was sure were the bad ones. Lied on occasion. Kept secrets from Heaven and God. Given into temptations. And has always had this fear of God's Almighty wrath hanging over his head for millennia. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. At any moment, everything will be taken away. But what could be the last straw? The straw that finally breaks the camel's back? To garner God's attention and punishment. It has to be something big. The biggest and most important part of his life. Something that matters to him more than anything in the world. His relationship with the Demon, Crowley. But he's learned. If you don't say it out loud.. if you keep it to yourself. Then you won't be punished. It's worked out for him so far. So why should he think otherwise? And then in the end of S2E6, Metatron gives him the opportunity to make a change to the Heavenly system. His chance to restore his best friend to his former holy glory. A chance to relieve all the suffering he's seen throughout history. A chance to make a difference. Despite all his secret sins, he's being given an unbelievable opportunity- one that proves that maybe he isn't as bad as he always thought he was. He's actually seen as worthy. But then Crowley gets angry about all this. He's against it all. He doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be an Angel again. He doesn't want to return to Heaven. He just wants to be with Aziraphale. And he finally says their best kept, unsaid secret out loud. With a love confession and a passionate kiss.

"You idiot. We could have been… us."

Aziraphale wants this more than anything but every instinct inside of him is screaming to stop it, to not let anyone see, to not let anyone know the truth. This final temptation. His one and true forbidden fruit that is the Demon Crowley.. and it's the one he knows he must resist at all costs.

The fear is overpowering. And the only words that come from his lips…

"I forgive you."

I forgive you for letting our unsaid secret out. I forgive you for trying to tempt me. I forgive you for refusing to join me in Heaven as a renewed Angel. But can he ever truly forgive himself for the choice he just made? Remember, in the end, Aziraphale is just afraid. Afraid to lose everything. Afraid to lose Crowley. Fear of punishment can be traumatizing after all. And it will all be fixed in S3. ;) HAVE FAITH IN GAIMAN!

..Sorry this was so long and drawn out but… I NEED SEASON 3 ALREADY.. (everyone! keep re-watching GO2 on Prime! and no more threats to the creators plz ^-^) Honestly, this was very cathartic to write and help me come to terms with the most heart wrenching painful TV kiss of all time D: But I need to see how their story unfolds. I need to see Aziraphale allow himself to make the choice to be with Crowley without fear of punishment. I NEED MY INEFFIBLE HUSBANDS. TOGETHER. T^T

PS. Literally as I was finishing writing this, I saw Neil Gaiman himself say this on his Tumblr, "But the story of Job is pretty central to the whole Good Omens conversation, including Aziraphale's bit of it." OMG I KNEW IT lololol

[kawaiigirly21]

Gem of Olympus 6

"Wait, say that again. I'm afraid I didn't hear you correctly. You…want…her…back?” Apollo stared at his brother as he sat across from him in the large garden. “Yes Apollo! I want her back! I-i miss her. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can barely look at Aphrodite without wishing she was… Natasha… I still love her. I don't think I ever stopped…” Ares put his head in his hands. This was one of the very first times he displayed his true emotions in front of anyone besides the goddess he was previously married to.

Apollo sighed as he took his eyes away from his brother to look at his wine glass. “Look Ares, I'm sure your feelings are genuine but do you know how much you hurt her? She unraveled because of you. Her confidence became undone. And so did her clothing. She went around starting affairs to compensate for what you did to her. She never once doubted her beauty until you planted those seeds of deceit and pain. She simply did all those things to feel beautiful again. To regain some semblance of power. Control.”

Ares could do nothing but simply listen to his brother as he spoke words of truth to him. His ears now finally opened and his mind cleared to truly understand what he had done. “I don't doubt your love for her, Ares. In fact when you two first started courting, I had never seen you so happy. But she's no longer yours. And if you want her back. If you want to be her husband once more, you have a lot to work on.” Apollo then stood from his chair and walked past his sulking brother.

“Now if you'll excuse me, I do have to get going. I do believe I hear mortals praying for me to heal their sick. Till tonight brother.” Ares simply waved his brother off and made his way out of the garden. He knew Apollo was telling the truth. He had much to work on. Such as getting rid of Aphrodite. Elsewhere on Olympus, Poseidon and Hera were planning his proposal. As Hera was the goddess of marriage, she jumped at the opportunity to help her brother wed Natasha.

“She did say she liked Dolphins right? Or was it tiger sharks… this is stressing me out…” Poseidon sighed as his eyes scanned the parchment in front of him. “It was indeed tiger sharks. Please don't let this bother you. It's just a proposal. It's not the wedding… yet.” Poseidon nodded before grabbing a pen. “I just want this to be perfect… I love her Hera… I truly do..” Hera smiled warmly. “I know you do. I can tell. Now back to the planning, you want to do this when?” Poseidon quickly answered. “The day after tomorrow! I don't want to wait any longer!”

While the two continued their planning, Hades, Persephone and Natasha were playing with Cerberus. “Come on boy! Come on! Go get it!!” Natasha smiled brightly as she watched the three headed dog run off to fetch the log she threw. “It's hard to believe he used to be so small you could hold him in one hand. Now look at him.” Persephone put a loving hand on her niece's shoulder as she led her to their usual table. “We have much to discuss my dear.” Hades spoke as he took a seat besides her.

Natasha knew exactly what it was they were about to discuss and smiled as the gossip flew. “Then she claimed she didn't know I was there. Can you believe that?” Natasha sipped her tea as she listened closely to her uncle's story. “Ugh unbelievable!” She added. “I personally wouldn't have tolerated such disrespect!” Persephone said. Once every month, Natasha traveled to the underworld for 3 days to spend time with her aunt and uncle. Most of the time, it was tea, cakes and all the gossip they could stand.

Other times....“Ah! Oh! There! There! Mm!!” Hades growled in Natasha's ear as he took her from behind. “Put that mouth to good use, darling.” Persephone purred as she led Natasha's head to her pussy. “Ah~ good girl~ mm~” Hades smirked as he pushed himself deeper into Natasha's weeping cunt. “Agh shit!! So tight you are little one! Fuck!!” Persephone smiled as she pet Natasha’s head. “Oh fuuuuck~ You’re too good at this~”

Later that day, Natasha laid in her bed reminiscing about her past affairs and her previous lovers while petting her lion. “Hmmm Hercules gave you to me. You big ball of fluff.” The nemean lion simply yawned while snuggling close to her. “Not much to say on that. You’re so spoiled.” As Natasha looked up at her ceiling, she heard a soft yet firm knock at her door. “It's open.” Fully expecting to see Hermes, considering his knocks were the only kind that sounded that way, the goddess’ eyes widened when the man in her chambers was not in fact Hermes but Ares.

“Do you have a minute?” He asked with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Um…sure. What is it?” Natasha moved from her lying position to sitting up with Leo, her lion, moving to place his head on her lap and continue his nap. “I um..here. These are for you. They’re your favorite right?” Ares asked as he pulled a bouquet of belladonnas from behind him. “Yes they are. I didn’t know you knew. Place them on my night table. I’ll vase them once Leo moves his large head.” The war god nodded as he placed the flowers down and stood in front of Natasha awkwardly.

“You may sit Ares. I’m not forcing you to stand.” As the god found a chair to sit in, Natasha watched confused. Why was he so awkward and nervous? He wasn’t even like that when they first started courting. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other night…and for …everything…” This threw Natasha for a major fucking loop. Ares? Apologizing?! Since when!? “Oh well…You’re forgiven…at what cost though?” Natasha eyed her Ex husband suspiciously. “What do you mean? Can I not apologize without having an ulterior motive?”

Natasha immediately shook her head and stroked Leo’s mane while he purred loudly. “No. Not from what I've seen.” Ares sighed as his head hung low. “I beg for your forgiveness. Not for the benefit of myself, but for my love for you…” Natasha’s eye twitched as she watched in disbelief.

"Your love for me? When did you ever have love for me?! You cannot just come in here Ares and expect me to embrace you with open arms! After what you did to me?! You’re grateful that I even accepted your flowers and allowed you into my chambers! You want my forgiveness?! Work for it! Now…If you'll excuse me, I must get ready for bed. Goodnight.” Ares left the room tight lipped and humiliated. It wasn’t as if he expected her to take him back right away but he definitely wasn’t expecting that reaction either.

As the war god moved to make his way to his own room, He stopped in his tracks when his ears caught the condescending chuckle of his uncle. “Didn’t go as you planned, did it?” Poseidon asked as he appeared from his place behind a pillar. “How long were you there?” Ares asked as his eyes squinted. “Long enough to know I have more of a chance than I once thought.” Ares stepped to his uncle with an angered expression on his face. “And just what is that supposed to mean?” Poseidon simply smirked as he walked past his nephew.

“Exactly what you think nephew. You had your chance. Now let me show you how a real man charms a woman.” Watching in irritation, Ares’ eyes widened as Poseidon not only knocked on Natasha’s door with a much firmer sound that just screamed authority and confidence but that it looked as if Natasha scrambled to open the door and immediately let the king of the seas in. while she was dressed in her finest nightgown as well. Before the door closed, Poseidon sent an all knowing smirk Ares’ way. It became all so clear then. This was war. And Ares was determined not to lose.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Alastor hated both Adam and Lucifer with a fiery passion. The fallen angel had beaten him in battle, no one has ever bested him like that!

The King of Hell grated on his nerves simply for existing.

And what was worse? They were TOGETHER! As in dating and they were happy and thriving! Sure there was a lot of melodrama along the way that everyone had to bare witness to, but the radio demon had been sure they would crash and burn. He was rooting for them to fail.

He thought that when the first man respawned in Hell that Lucifer would have had him tortured for the rest of his days. That's not what happened at all, he took Adam in and let him stay at the hotel and even got the sinner to sell his soul to the King for ultimate protection.

Slowly, everyone watched the two fall in love for each other even when they tried to hide it. It should have been a toxic relationship what with all the baggage between them since the dawn of time.

But no, their love was equal parts vile and beautiful. Alastor wanted to puke even thinking about it.

He had two things in mind. Alastor wanted a rematch with Adam, he was a sinner now so he would be much weaker. An easy win to sooth Alastors bruised ego. Then he wanted to create as many wedges as he could in their disgusting relationship.

He couldn't do much of anything to Lucifer, being the King meant he'd turn Alastor into paste before he even lifted a finger.

But if he could get under Adam's skin, fuck with his mind and plant seeds of doubt then the fallen angel would do the rest.

Adam hummed happily as he plucked weeds out of his garden. Lucifer had made him a huge greenhouse filled with a garden for him to tend to as a way to relax and a gift.

Adam's gift in return was a little more oral.

He loved this garden, it wasn't Eden, nothing would ever compare to that garden, but it was one that Lucifer made just for him and he loved it all the more.

"It's looking good right?" Adam asked as he looked back to Lucifer who was in a lawn chair watching him work.

Lucifer had been looking at Adams bent over frame as he pulled weeds. "Looks exquisite." He wasn't talking about the garden.

Adam smirked. "You mean the garden right?"

"I think two things are exquisite. Like the flowers that are in bloom and those jeans that hug your ass just right." He should get Adam more jeans like that.

Adam just shook his head playfully, "These are my favorite jeans."

"Mine too.~" Lucifer winked and Adam had to look away and smother a laugh in his hand. Cheeky devil.

"Gentlemen." The sound of a static filled voice filled the room. Adam frowned and looked over to where Alastor was standing.

This fucking guy, Adam thought bitterly. Adam got to his feet and wiped the dirt off on his jeans. "The fuck do you want?" He walked over to his work bench to grab some tools.

"Now that's not very nice. Am I interrupting something?" Alastor said not at all caring if he did.

"Well actually-" Lucifer started, but got the microphone shoved in his face to silence him. He growled and glared at the radio demon. How dare he just come in here and ruin his and Adams garden time together!!

"Don't care. I'm not here for you your majesty I'm here to speak with Adam actually." Alastor spit out the title as if it were poison.

"Again, what the fuck do you want I'm busy. Last time I checked, I don't want you in here." Adam said not looking at Al, his voice taking on a sharper edge. He went to stand beside Lucifer, glaring at Alastor.

"I'll cut to the chase. I want a rematch against you."

Adam blinked. "Rematch?" The fuck did that mean? It took him a minute until it clicked. "Oh! You mean from when I beat your ass on the roof? Ha! Yeah, no not gonna happen Bambi get lost."

Alastor narrowed his eyes. "What's the matter, worried you'd lose?"

Adam laughed. "Bitch please, you're not even worth my time." He walked over to Alastor and got in his face. "Now get the fuck out of my garden."

Alastor turned to look at Adams work bench. He noticed that among the tools and seeds there was a single potted plant. Must be special.

In a swift motion Alastor knocked it to the ground with his microphone. Adam reached out to catch it but he wasn't fast enough, the pot broke on the ground the flower and dirt going everywhere.

Lucifer had given him that flower, he created it special for Adam as a symbol of their love.

Adam's eyes flashed red as he turned a glare to that radio fuck. "WHAT THE FUCK ASSHOLE!?" His voice took on a more demonic edge. How fucking dare he! That guys smug smile was really pissing Adam off.

"What's the matter, did your little boyfriend get you that silly little flower?" In the next second Al found himself sliding across the floor, some pain in his throat.

Adam had throat punched the fucker. "As a matter a fact, he did." He could feel his blood boiling, he was so pissed. "You want a fucking fight you got one."

Alastor got to his feet grinding madly. Finally, he would wipe the floor with that shit stain.

Lucifer used his magic to conjure something up for Adam. "Here, use this." He handed Adam his guitar that doubled as a saw. Lucifer took Adam by the chin and looked him in the eye. "Kick his fucking ass. I'll be watching."

Adam smirked, his eyes going back to their golden color. "You bet I will."

"And stay the fuck out!" Adam yelled as he slammed the doors to the garden. Alastor on the other side crumpled on the floor. He fucking lost again! What the hell was that? Alastor slunk away to the shadows, he had planning to do.

Adam walked back over to Lucifer who was grinning from ear to ear beaming with pride for his boyfriend. He had his hands behind his back. "Whatcha got there?"

Lucifer revealed the newly fixed pot with the flower he made for him. As if it had never been broken. "For the victor."

Adam smiled and took the flower, he leaned down and kissed Lucifer on the lips. "Thank you, Luci." Adam placed the flower back where it belonged. He felt arms wrap around him from behind.

"You know what would be fun?" Lucifer purred as he rubbed Adams hips suggestively.

"Hmm, sex in the garden?"

"Sex in the garden."

[achaoticeternal]

he has beautiful bones | a.t

AEMOND TARGARYEN x FEM!STARK!READER

summary: after your quarrels with alicent and aemond, you and aemond must come to terms with his actions.  word count: 2.3k warnings: internalized misogyny a/n: i love this little war criminal and i don’t know whether to fix him or join him in his madness - but this is a fix him fic lol 

part one | all that he sees

Three full suns had risen and set since you last lay with Aemond in your room, much less spoke with him. Rather than accompanying your husband where ever he be in the walls of the Red Keep, you took up the company of youthful noble ladies and your lady-in-waiting. And while you laughed and soaked in their kind company, the ache in your heart remained. 

You had only seen Aemond, even Alicent, in passing through halls and gardens. Alicent would keep an eye fixated on you during the brief encounters, but you paid no mind to her as you passed by. You had nothing good or kind to say to the woman, so it was better that you keep your mouth shut. When Aemond would catch a glance of you, his expression became slightly hopeful, only to fall as you brushed past him. Instead of attending dinner, you took them in your maiden chamber within the presence of your lady-in-waiting and personal guards. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Alicent had plagued your husband's mind with terrible thoughts and words about you and your behaviors. A small part of you hoped that he would retaliate against the unkind words, but you truly expected him to silently accept her words or even laugh along. Cruel thoughts...

You had taken to a daily habit of checking in with the maesters to see if words had come and go from your brother, Cregan. At first, it shocked you to hear that there was no correspondence from either side. Only one response from the Greens, requesting time to deliberate while a swarm of Lords from the Southern region congregated at the Red Keep. There was some relief on your part that Aemond had not just simply acted on his mother’s wishes... yet. 

Currently, you were to be found in the grand library of the Red Keep. There was a pile of books on one of the desks closest to you; organized by records, stories, and histories. During your courtship with Aemond, he would often read you the histories of the Targaryen line and even the tales of Old Valyria. He thought it important that you knew and understood the family you would be marrying into. Admittedly, it was a kind gesture and a privilege that very few people who had married a Targaryen had ever received. 

The love both of you had for your separate heritages was what helped to plant the seed of love in your marriage. While he taught you small and loving phrases in High Valyrian, you would tell him of the fables that your parents told you as a little girl. Stories of the children of the forest and the first men in exchange for the history of Valyria before the Doom. Such a small act of love was what truly made you, a Northern lady, feel welcome in the Southern kingdoms.

In your searches for the next book you would be mulling over for the next day or so, you came across a children’s book with stories of the Sigils of each house and how they came to be. The illustrations were silly and you even giggled at the depictions of the Mormont bear and Greyjoy kraken. You flipped through the pages, continuing your amusements until the wolf of your own house came into view. Ironically, the pages for Stark and Targaryen were next to each other in the section of the great houses. You read over both pages...

House Stark - the Direwolf: a house of ice and honor

a man of the north is an honorable man as there ever was he is strong he is fierce he does what is best, right, and good

House Targaryen - the Three-Head Dragon a house of fire and blood

a man of the dragon with fire in his veins he is steadfast he is regal he does what is best for the house

Your forefinger traced over the words as you compared the descriptions of both houses to the men you honored most in your life - your brother and your husband. But then you dismissed such comparisons and thought of yourself - how you embodied such traits of both houses. With a firm nod, you closed the book and turned on your heels... you knew what to say to your husband now.

As if divine timing was on your side, one of Aemond’s personal King’s Guard entered the library and announced himself. 

“My lady, Prince Aemond requests your presence.”

“Thank you, ser,” You spoke with a curt nod as you began to exit the library, “And it would do you and others good to address me by my rightful title — Princess.”

The guards escorted you through the halls of the Red Keep until you came upon the familiar oak doors of your marriage chambers. As you approached, you waved the guards off to dismiss them and knocked at the great doors. There was a pause, and then Aemond opened the door.

Your husband, though still stoic and tall in posture, looked utterly exhausted. One might even conclude that he had barely slept since you were last properly at his bedside. This surprised you - as Aemond rarely showed any emotions outside of his amusements, teasing, and eagerness in training. His shoulders were even slightly slumped as his good eye met your gaze.

“My wife,” His tone was far softer than when you had last spoken with each other. His eye then trailed to the outskirts of the door, “Where are the guards?”

“I dismissed them,” You spoke bluntly, “We are speaking as man and wife, are we not? What reason do they have to be posted outside your door?”

There was no reason. Both you and Aemond knew that. He simply nodded his head, but there was a pause hanging in the air. It did not release until you broke it yourself. 

“May I come in? Or will be speaking at each other through opposite sides of the door?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side. 

Aemond’s eye trailed over your body before he fully opened the door and stepped out of your way. You could now fully step into the chambers and see what a disheveled mess it had become. 

“Have the attendants not been coming in? It looks a full mess in here. They-”

Aemond quickly cut you off, “No one has been in these chambers except myself since you took the bed in your maiden chambers.”

There was another long silence. Your eyes flickered across the room and looked anywhere but at Aemond.

“Why?”

“Because even if you left my side in anger, I did not want to see you erased from our marriage chambers,” Aemond spoke softly, truthfully. His stature was wavering, you could tell that he wanted to grab your hand but fought against his touch-starved desire, “My mother tried to send in maid after maid to clean and tidy, but I sent them all away. I would not have her commands pull you from me - even in the smallest of details like your soft scent upon the bed pillows.”

Your brows furrowed, not in hurt, but more in surprise at his words. Your heartbeat picked up with each honest word. Though he was never an overly affectionate husband, especially before others, he did have his own special way of always taking your breath away.

“Aemond...” You breathed out...

You shook your head, knowing that you wouldn’t betray yourself by returning to his arms with just a few kind words.

“I’m glad to hear that you dismissed Alicent’s requests, but why not have avoided any of this?” You ask him with a twinge of hurt in your voice, “Why not defend me to her in the first place?”

Aaemond thought for a moment about your question. He thought over the consequences of his lack of action and how throughout his life, he rarely stood up to or disagreed with his mother. It weighed heavily in his heart - the comparisons he made between his mother and his wife. 

When he thought of Alicent, he saw a woman who fought for her children. A woman who deeply loved him and cared for him when he lost his eye. A woman who admittedly helped to build him into a far better Prince than his elder brother. A woman who did her best to give him what he desired.

When he thought of his lady-wife, he saw a woman who seemed a direct foil of who young Aemond imagined he would marry. You were an engaging and intelligent young woman. You never wanted to simply bear the heirs of the Dragon Prince, but rather love him in the ways his family could never. You had taken the parts of himself that he hated or others had damaged and loved them.

"I am sincere in my apologies, my love." Aemond began, "I have... neglected my duties to you; made you feel undermined, underappreciated; and bit my tongue when I should have defended you."

He began to slowly approach you. As he came closer and closer, he reached out his hands to gently take one of your own between his palms. His gaze focus on your hand, more specifically the golden wedding band, as he collected his thought to continue his apology.

"I love my mother dearly — but I love you more..."

"When I was growing up, my father dismissed all of his children except for  Rhaenyra, so I depended on my mother who was fighting her own battles. Aegon was... he is just Aegon, and Helaena had to process her own life. I did not feel so open to cherish or love anyone until you came into my life," he raised your hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles. 

"I should have corrected Alicent instead of allowing her to brush you off. Your council is something that I deeply cherish and require with this matter. Please, join me tonight at the meeting of the small council so that we can finally provide an answer to Cregan."

 A smile twitched at your lips with each word. You could feel the sincerity in each word and tell how much thought he had put into such. This was the man whose hand you had accepted in marriage. With his lingering question, you answered with a grateful smile, "Thank you, Aemond. I would love to be at your side tonight, and to return to bed with you after."

Aemond chuckled and fully pulled your frame against his chest, "Good," he whispered. He pulled you into a soft kiss, glad to have you back in his arms.

A chair had been drawn up next to Aemond's seat at his orders long before the pair of you arrived at the meeting. As a couple, you both were the last to arrive before the top of the hour. You had other catching up to do outside of apologies...

 Once you entered the room, a small gasp could be heard — obviously from Alicent. The other Lords of the table held similar shock in their eyes but did not reveal their opinion with their words or faces. Arm in arm with Aemond, you approached your seats. Aemond pulled out your chair from the table like a gentleman and you stood in front of it. All members were standing, awaiting the arrival of King Aegon. 

Your eyes shifted about the room, looking from Lord to Lord. Based on their expression, you knew Aemond had a look on his face, daring them to say something.

"It is good to see you back by your husband's size, my lady." Alicent finally broke the silence, "But may I ask why you are present?"

As you reached for your chalice of wine and sipped from it, Aemond answered his mother's questions, "My wife is originally a lady of the North and Lord Cregan is her brother. She is an excellent resource for us in this current predicament. She is here to provide us with useful insight which we may be unaware of."

Alicent did her best to maintain a composed smile as her eyes flickered between Aemond and you, "Interesting..."

As you returned your chalice to the table, Alicent quite noticeably cleared her throat, "My lady..."

"The Prince is smart to bring in your assistance for this meeting. I do encourage you not to make many interruptions as there is much to discuss this evening. In fact, your advice should only be to your husband and not the council, my lady."

The Queen mother seemed content with her backhanded words as she finished with a nod. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Aemond's knuckles go white as he clenched his hand into a fist. Though you appreciated his refusal to back down, you rested your hand softly atop his fist, insinuating that you would handle her words.

"My Queen, it is an honor to join the small council this evening and provide my insight where it is needed," You spoke with a smirk, "but I must say - much as I respect and even admire all the hard work you've poured into the ears of these fine Lords, I expect that you acknowledge my words as well. For as you, I believe it would be appropriate for you to reciprocate the respect that you expect of me."

"My lady—" She attempted to interject. 

"My Queen, I wish for you to address me with my proper title — Princess..." You stopped her with a smirk.

All eyes were on you in shock that you had corrected the queen. However, your eyes glanced over to Aemond for a moment to see him smirking, clearly proud. 

Before another word could be said, King Aegon finally entered and the meeting finally began. As you took your seat, you felt Aemond's hand reach under the table to grab your own. He squeezed it affectionately and kept it there the entirety of the night.

|| thank you for all the wonderful comments on part 1 

|| i’ve tagged below those [the ones i could] who commented to part one

@violet2507 @malfoytargaryen @melsunshine​ @lol-im-done​ @thenovelcarnival​ @xoxo-pepprmnts​ @sl-ut​ @hoziersfairy​ @merovingianprincess​

[rayveneyed]

your third season in society sees you brandished with perhaps the worst title a woman can earn: spinster.

yes, you are 21 years of age, still flush with the heat of youth and womanhood, and you are — according to your societal peers — a lost cause. despite your sizeable dowry (a pathetic attempt at making your prospects more appealing), you're severely lacking in all those skills a reputable, agreeable lady would need; pianoforte, conversation, embroidery, cursive, and perhaps a laundry-list more.

it matters little to you. the only child of an old, wealthy family, you're more than content to take to your corners, dance card empty and cup full, awaiting the day you'll simply be handed your estate. life is easier this way, you think, without having to vet every man that comes in close contact with you — and what about the running of the house, good sir? oh, well, the lady of the house would take care of it all, no doubt! that's the right place for a woman, i say. ah, i see. and children? i come from a family of 9, miss. i'd want the same for my own children. ah... i see...

so why is it that — even considering your icy reputation, and your uninterested gaze, and your purposefully stilted conversation — that midoriya izuku cannot seem to leave you in peace?

truly, you do not know whether you should be vastly offended or begrudgingly impressed by his devotion to seeking you out, no matter how much you object to it. he is amongst the most anticipated bachelors of the season — an old, wealthy family similar to yours; dashing in all the ways loved by women, with his frame tall and strong, his hair fluffy and falling over his big, green eyes. in contrast to his physicality, he is known for his earnestness and kindness, his sweet conversation — and he wastes his skill on you, in vain.

“i have heard of your endeavours into botany,” he whispers to you one night, huddled at the back of a crowd of dance-spectators. a glass of champagne rests in his hand, one fetched for you and promptly refused. you try not to think too hard on how his hand engulfs the flute, and instead turn sharpened eyes upon him. he seems to fluster. “o-only to say that i am enraptured by them, truly—!”

“i suppose you must find me very strange,” you only say — perhaps a bit rudely, a tad snottily, though he doesn’t mind. he only shakes his head with fervour, denying it vehemently, and you sigh internally. he’s like a stray dog that you cannot shake.

truly, you cannot fathom it. izuku has the favour of both the lady tsuyu, the lady ochako, and even the young duchess momo — all willing women with large dowries and pleasant temperaments. all far more suited to wifely duties than you.

and yet it is you who he insists on staying by — it is your parlour he visits, not with flowers but with strawberry seeds and daffodil bulbs for your ever-growing garden. it is your ear that jokes are whispered into, your arm that winds around his whilst you promenade.

you tell him on one such stroll around the park that it is perhaps better for his reputation to leave you be. you’re a spinster, after all, and not known for your kindness. your hobbies are considered strange, your countenances considered rude. he would do better to find a young lady ready to marry and give him many children, before he is tarnished by his proximity to you.

izuku only laughs that laugh of his, and his eyes are all too soft and all too affectionate for an unmarried man to be giving you.

“forgive me for my forwardness,” he says, leaning towards you as if to share a great secret, “but if it is by you, then i shall welcome my tarnishment.”

and he tugs you along.

[callmekenya]

Pairings: Evie Grimhilde x m!y/n

Warnings: None

_________________________________________

The garden party at Rapunzel and Flynn's Castle was a scene straight out of a fairy tale. The lush greenery, adorned with twinkling lights, set the perfect atmosphere for an elegant evening. Guests mingled, laughter echoed, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air.

Evie, the daughter of the Evil Queen, stood beside her boyfriend, Y/n, the son of Queen Rapunzel and King Flynn. Everything about their relationship seemed perfect, almost too perfect.

Rapunzel, who had grown fond of Evie, treated her like the daughter she never had, and Evie cherished their bond. For her, meeting Y/n was a dream come true—a prince who loved her for who she was, despite her past. But dreams have a way of turning into nightmares.

As the evening unfolded, an unexpected guest arrived—Lily, the daughter of Queen Snow White and King Florian. With her raven-black hair and flawless skin, Lily was the epitome of beauty, but her demeanor was anything but sweet. She was accompanied by Princess Josaphine, the daughter of Jasmine and Aladdin, who introduced Lily to Evie with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Lily, this is Evie, Y/n’s girlfriend," Josaphine said, her voice dripping with a false sweetness.

Lily looked Evie up and down, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Ah, the infamous VK. How quaint."

Evie, caught off guard, forced a polite smile. "Nice to meet you."

Lily leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper, yet cutting like a knife. "You know, Y/n is just going through a phase. He'll never truly fall for someone like you. A wannabe princess will never be an actual princess."

The words stung more than Evie would care to admit. She tried to shake off the comment, but the seed of doubt had been planted. The rest of the night passed in a blur. Y/n noticed Evie's sudden change in mood and gently took her hand. "Evie, are you okay? You've been quiet all evening."

Evie gave him a tight-lipped smile, hiding the turmoil inside. "I'm just tired. Can we go home?"

Concerned but respectful, Y/n drove her back to her dorm. The silence between them was deafening. When they arrived at her door, Evie turned to him, her smile forced. "Thank you for tonight. I just need some time alone."

Y/n wanted to press further but saw the resolve in her eyes. He nodded, brushing a kiss across her forehead before watching her disappear behind the door. Little did he know, that night would change everything.

Alone in her dorm, Evie couldn’t shake off Lily’s words. They echoed in her mind, driving her to the edge. In a moment of desperation, she decided to make a change. She bleached her signature blue hair to a brown hue and swapped her vibrant blue outfits for muted, traditional princess colors. When she looked in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself but convinced herself it was for the best.

The next day, Y/n was taken aback when he saw Evie’s transformation. She looked stunning, but something about her new look felt off. It wasn’t the Evie he fell in love with, but he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to upset her.

Weeks passed, and tension grew between them. The Tourney tournament, the highlight of the season, was around the corner. Auradon’s team was pumped, and the cheerleading squad, including both Lily and Evie, was ready to energize the crowd. The game was intense, but Auradon triumphed, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

As the cheerleaders rushed onto the field, Lily saw her chance. She ran straight to Y/n, wrapping her arms around him and planting a kiss on his lips. The crowd fell silent in shock, all eyes on the couple.

Y/n immediately pushed Lily away, his eyes searching for Evie. He found her across the field, her face a mix of shock and heartbreak. Without a second thought, she turned and ran, tears streaming down her face.

Y/n sprinted after her, calling out her name, but she didn’t stop. He caught up to her just as she reached her dorm, grabbing her arm gently. “Evie, please, let me explain. That kiss meant nothing. You’re the one I love.”

Evie looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt. “It’s not just the kiss, Y/n. I thought I could be someone I’m not. But I’ll never be a real princess, not like Lily. Maybe she’s right, maybe you deserve someone better.”

She pulled off the promise ring he had given her, pressing it into his hand. “I can’t do this anymore. We’re done.”

Before Y/n could respond, she turned and disappeared into her dorm, leaving him standing in the hallway, heartbroken.

In the days that followed, Y/n tried reaching out to Evie, but she blocked him on everything. She avoided him at every turn, and Y/n found himself spiraling into despair. Lily, meanwhile, reveled in the downfall of their relationship, always lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The Royal Ball hosted by Mal and Ben was the final event of the season, a grand celebration where everyone would be present. Y/n arrived with Lily on his arm, but his mind was elsewhere, his eyes scanning the room for Evie. Then, the announcer's voice rang out.

"Please welcome Princess Evie and her date for the Royal Ballet, Doug!"

The room fell silent as Evie entered, her hair once again a vibrant blue, and her dress matching the hue. She looked every bit the princess she was meant to be, reclaiming her true self. Y/n’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. She was stunning, a vision of everything he had fallen in love with.

As the night wore on, the band was set to perform. Y/n, desperate to win Evie back, made his way to the stage. Taking the microphone, he addressed the crowd. "I’d like to dedicate this song to someone very special to me. Someone I should have never let go.”

[Verse 1: Y/n]

"If I could do it all over, baby, I'd do it different

Maybe I wouldn't be here, in this position 

I found you, then I lost you, looking back is torture 

And it hurts to know I let you go, you live right around the corner

Y/n’s voice was filled with emotion as he sang, his eyes never leaving Evie’s. The room was silent, captivated by the raw sincerity in his voice. Evie, standing at the edge of the room, felt her heart breaking all over again, but she couldn’t look away.

[Pre-Chorus 1: Y/n & Evie]

"And I could've had it all, could've had it all

True love, I know I had it

True love, was so hard to find

True love, if I could get it back, I'd never let it go this time

(True love) is an inspiration

(True love) it was mine, all mine

(True love) I'd never let it go

I'd never it go

I'll never let it go

I'll never let it go this time.

As Y/n continued, Evie felt her resolve weaken. The love they had shared was real, undeniable. Slowly, she began to move towards the stage, drawn to him by the pull of their connection.

[Verse 2: Evie]

"Feeling it all around me, wondering how I blew it”

And I wanna know the secret, of how they, do it

There's no such thing as perfection, I'm still learning that lesson

To forgive is key to forgetting me

And I'm staring at my reflection

And I could've had it all, could've had it all

Evie’s voice joined his, soft at first but gaining strength. The harmony between them was perfect, a reflection of the bond they once had. The crowd watched in awe as Evie walked toward Y/n, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

[Pre-Chorus 2: Y/n & Evie]

True love, I know I had it

True love, was so hard to find

If I could get it back, yeah

I'd never let it go this time

True love, is an inspiration

True love, it was mine oh mine

True love, If I could get it back, yeah

Never let it go, I'd never let it go this time

[Verse 3: Y/n]

If I knew then what I do now, I'd be with you tonight

If I knew then what I'd do now we'd be alright

And I could've had it all

True love (x3)

By the time they reached the chorus again, they were standing face to face, their voices blending in perfect harmony. The emotion between them was palpable, and the audience could feel it too. As they sang the final lines together, the weight of their feelings hung in the air.

[Bridge: Y/n & Evie]

I'd never let it go this time

True love, it was mine oh mine

True love, If I could get it back, yeah

If only I could get it back, yeah

(Never let it go this time)

True love, I'd never let it go

True love, it was mine oh mine

True love, I could've had it,

Could've had it, could've had it all

True love, is an inspiration

True love, it was mine oh mine

True love, yeah

If I could get it back, yeah

(If I could get it back, yeah)

Never let it go

(I'd never let it go, this time)

I'd never let it go, this time

True love, yeah

The song ended, and for a moment, the room was completely silent. Then, without a word, Y/n reached out and pulled Evie into a kiss, pouring all of his love and regret into it. The crowd erupted into cheers, but for Y/n and Evie, the world had faded away. There was only them, and the love they had fought so hard to reclaim.

Lily, seething with jealousy, started to make her way toward Evie and Y/n, a glass of champagne in her hand and mischief glinting in her eyes. She intended to cause a scene, to tear them apart one final time. However, before she could take more than a few steps, she found her path blocked by Audrey and Mal.

“Not so fast, Princess,” Mal said, her voice icy with authority. “Leave them alone. You’ve done enough.”

Audrey crossed her arms, nodding in agreement. “You might want to rethink what you’re about to do, Lily. I guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

Lily hesitated, her eyes flicking from the two girls in front of her to the couple on the dance floor. The room’s attention had shifted away from her, and it was clear that if she tried anything, Mal and Audrey wouldn’t hesitate to stop her. Grudgingly, she lowered her glass and took a step back, her lips curling in distaste.

“Fine,” Lily spat, her voice low. “But this isn’t over.”

Mal leaned in, her glowing eyes narrowing. “It is, Lily. Move on. You’re not wanted here.”

With one last glare, Lily turned on her heel and stormed out of the ballroom, her frustration and anger evident in every step. Audrey and Mal exchanged a satisfied look before turning their attention back to the celebration.

On the dance floor, Y/n and Evie were lost in each other’s eyes, the world around them fading into a distant hum. The cheers from the crowd only heightened the joy that surged between them. Y/n gently cupped Evie’s face, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“I’m so sorry, Evie,” Y/n whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. For letting you doubt yourself, for letting Lily come between us. I never stopped loving you. I never will.”

Evie placed her hand over his, holding it to her cheek as she leaned into his touch. “I should’ve never let her words get to me. I should’ve known better, should’ve trusted in what we had. But when I changed, I realized I was losing myself. I just… I just didn’t know how to get back to who I was, or if you’d still want me when I did.”

Y/n’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. He shook his head, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Evie, you’re perfect just the way you are. It was never about being a princess or a VK. It was always about you. The girl I fell in love with, who’s brave, smart, kind, and so incredibly strong. The girl who’s never needed to be anyone other than herself.”

Evie’s lips trembled into a smile, her blue eyes shining brightly as she met his gaze. “And I fell in love with the boy who saw all of that in me when no one else did. You’ve always been my true love, Y/n. I never should’ve doubted that.”

As the music played on, they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world spinning around them but never touching the bubble of peace they’d created together. The crowd, sensing the moment, began to pair off into their own dances, leaving Y/n and Evie to share this time together.

From across the room, Doug watched with a satisfied grin on his face, his earlier role as Evie’s date simply a way to remind her of her worth. He caught Ben’s eye and gave a small nod, acknowledging the part they’d played in helping the couple find their way back to each other.

Ben, standing with Mal at his side, couldn’t help but smile. “I think everything turned out just as it was meant to,” he said, giving Mal’s hand a squeeze.

Mal smirked, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Of course it did. I mean, when have you known me to be wrong?”

They both laughed, and for the rest of the night, the ballroom was filled with joy, music, and the celebration of love—true love that had been tested, but never broken.

As the evening drew to a close, Y/n and Evie slipped away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner of the garden where the twinkling lights of the party cast a soft glow around them. Y/n wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“You know,” Y/n murmured, his voice tender, “I don’t need a kingdom or a crown. As long as I have you, Evie, I have everything I could ever want.”

Evie smiled, resting her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “And I have you, my prince. That’s all I need.”

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other under the stars, secure in the knowledge that their love was true, unshakable, and everlasting.

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: This was supposed to say "Bad day" but whoops. I'm tired. anywho, this seriesis inspired by some other authors with their own 'Sunshine series' yet my main take was wanting a main character who is a housewife ish and is fed up with their shit. They're all scared of this rabbit shifter because she's put up with them for this long. There's a whole backstory and lore and such if you want me to get into it, but for now here's 'Bay day' lol

Pairing: (Shifterverse) 141 + Keegan + Konig x Rabbit Shifter! Reader

Warnings: Lots of language, mentions of bodily harm.

Words: 1.3k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~

Nothing seemed to be going right. 

First, it was a downpour all day, meaning I couldn’t even drive to the farmer’s market since they had announced that they were going to be closed for the weekend since the weather was so severe. 

It also meant that I had to rush outside to the garden in my new, clean, white sundress, getting mud all over it as I hustled the chickens and ducks back into the coop, and ran around gathering all the tomatoes I could find before they split from the excess rain, some of them already splitting as I gathered them into my dress, staining it red and coating it with tomato seeds.

They boys were all on base today, yet weren’t coming home anytime soon both due to the weather and due to the paperwork they were getting held up with from their last couple missions. 

And today was a Sunday, meant to be a relaxing, self-care, pampering day for me, yet here I am, running around like I lost my head. 

I had just started to dry my hair with a kitchen towel before I remembered that there were sheets hanging outside on the line to dry - one of the perks of living with a team I guess, is that even with an industrial washer and dryer, it still didn’t cut the amount of laundry this house went through during the week. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I yelled as I ran back outside, skipping putting on the rainboots and just decided to go barefoot, easily hopping the small gate that kept the animals on the fenced side of the yard. My ears twitched as the rain hit them, and I flattened them against my head as I muttered curses to myself as I tore the sheets off the drying rack and ran back inside, about to toss them into the dryer before I realized my dress had covered them in mud. 

I opened the washer, expecting it to be empty, yet was greeted with the sight and smell of Soap’s mildew-y clothes that have definitely been sitting in the washer for the last two days, unswitched. 

“Motherfucker.”  I hissed as I dropped the sheets on the floor and grabbed a laundry pod and some scent beads, throwing them into the washer and starting his clothes on a hot, heavy washer since half of it was his workout gear. 

I shook my head as I felt some of the water starting to reach my inner ears, causing them to twitch and me to wince and I quickly grabbed a spare cloth and quickly cleaned them out, hating the feeling of water in them. 

I could faintly hear my phone buzzing from upstairs, and I jogged up there only to be greeting with Price’s contact, wanting a voice call.

I answered as I opened the dishwasher, realizing I forgot to start it before I went to bed last night, the pod door still closed tight. 

“Hey love, looks like we might be running even later tonight, there’s a new recruit….” He started as I held the phone between my shoulder and head and tried to start the dishwasher again. 

“What time should I have dinner on the table then?” I interrupted him as he was telling me about how they were going to be training not just one but several new recruits, causing them to be home around eight pm at the earliest. 

“Oh, uh, probably around nine or ten then?” He questioned. 

I just shut my eyes and sighed for a moment, before nodding. 

“I’ll get some stew in the crockpot then, today’s not going too great so I doubt I’ll be up that late.” 

“That’s alright dove, we can just pick up food on the way over.” I heard Ghost’s voice, causing me to pause for a moment. 

“Am I on speaker?” I asked softly. 

“Yeah, we jus’ got out of a meetin’ “ Soap replied. Sounds like everyone was there. 

“I’m implementing a new rule: Set a fucking timer on your phones for your laundry. Next batch that grows mildew in the washer will go into the burnpit.” 

A hushed silence answered me, before I heard a smack! and Soap yelling out. 

That was definitely Gaz. He’s the only one who actually takes care of his laundry on time. 

The washer beeping from downstairs gathered my attention, and I said my round of ‘be safe’ and ‘don’t kill the newbies’ before I hung up and tossed my phone on the couch, only for it to slide off and land on the wooden floor, landing screen-first. 

“Oh that definitely fucking broke.” I sighed, padding over to it and picking it up, wincing as I saw shards of glass left behind on the ground. 

A slew of expletives left me that would’ve left Soap blushing, and I set it face-up on the coffee table and headed downstairs, switching over laundry and starting half of the sheets in the washer before heading back upstairs, and cleaned up the mess my phone made. 

It was around three at this point, so I gathered some thawed meat out of the fridge and some vegetables and went to work putting together and stew for the boys that could be left cooking for the next several hours. Halfway through chopping up the carrots, the dryer buzzed, scaring me enough that I accidentally sliced into my finger instead, causing me to yelp and immediately hold it to myself, using my dress as a pressure dressing as I rushing into the bathroom and yanked out the medkit from under the sink. Only to find it fucking empty. 

I hissed at finding this, heading back into the hallway and pulling open the doors and finding the spare medkit things, disinfecting and wrapping up my fingers. (Turns out I nicked two, not just one.) 

I didn’t bother putting away the items since I knew I needed to refill the medkit anyways, leaving the bloody wrappers and roll of gauze on top of the box.

I headed downstairs, switching laundry again, and set up the drying lines we had in the laundry room for the sheets, carefully setting them up, not noticing spots of blood getting on the edges from my fingers. 

After switching laundry I headed back upstairs, my phone buzzing with an incoming call from Soap, which I didn’t even bother touching as I was not about to get shards of glass into my fingers. 

I finished making dinner, setting it up in the crockpot on medium heat, and didn’t bother cleaning up the kitchen as I collapsed on the couch, about ready to cry my eyes out. 

Instead, I fell asleep, my body exhausted, and about jumped out of my skin when I heard the door open and several voices. 

About thirty minutes had passed, leaving me groggy as shit, blinking sleep out of my eyes as they shuffled inside, dropping off bags of something on the counters as Price made his way to me. 

“I know we’re a little early but-holy fuck, what happened?” He started, causing everyone to immediately stop and head my way, causing me to be crowded by everyone. I could barely keep the tears out of my eyes, explaining that today was just horrible. 

“C’mon, let’s get you out of that dress and into something warm, bun.” Gaz spoke softly to me and Price starting giving instructions to the rest of the boys: Konig and his crew were to take care of the animals and check the perimeter, Ghost was to help with laundry, Soap was on dish duty, Price was going to finish up with putting away the groceries which I later learned were from them going to the farmer’s market ass-early in the morning before the sky opened up to make sure I got what I needed for the week. Keegan took it upon himself to restock the medkit, and helped rebandage my hand as I sat on my bed, Gaz sitting behind me, softly brushing my tangled mess of hair. 

This. This is what a pack was like.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my angels!! Thank you for all being so patient! I took some time away for my birthday and I definitely needed that rest (and more lol). Thank you all for the lovely birthday wishes and lovely messages! You are all the best <3

Chapter 67: Pretend

You were stirred from your sleep, a weight across your chest as warmth wrapped around you tightly. You felt cozy, and refused to wriggle free. Cracking open your eyes, you saw that the chambers were still dark, the hour of the owl upon you. 

Aemond’s arms were wrapped tightly around you as you lay curled into his side, arms thrown over his abdomen as his head was leant against the top of yours.

It was calm.

The waters were still.

And you could think. 

There was Monkshood in the garden. 

You recalled the poem the Septa had sung, replaying it over and over in your head as your eyes adjusted to the dark of the room. Monkshood or Wolfsbane was incredibly poisonous, that even touching the stem could cause sickness. The root was the most deadly, but any part would suffice if you were to use it. 

But it needed to be a last option. 

Suspicions would immediately be upon you if Aemond turned up dead or poisoned, and the same went for Aegon. It needed to be something you kept as a final and desperate option. Because even if you were going to use it, how could you? 

How could you sneak it into either of their food unnoticed? 

You would not be let into the kitchens, and if you dared to try, suspicions would be immediately raised. If you were to put it into their wine, you would need to figure out how. Neither the Prince, nor the always drunken King would drink wine with floating seeds, petals or root within. It would need to be crushed, down to a liquid form, or into a dried powder, but even then, your options were slim. You had not a clue of alchemy and could possibly poison yourself by mistake. 

Plus, where would you hold it?

You had no tiny bottles or cups, no place where it could be hidden. The maids search and clean the chambers and Aemond no doubt knows of all the hiding spots in the room. Perhaps he was even regularly checking when you were out, or ordering the guards too. It was too much of a risk.

The Monkshood would have to be reserved as a last option, one that you would use in times of desperation. Whether for them, or even yourself. 

Aemond’s chest rose and fell beneath your head, the warmth of his body enveloping you. He always ran so warm, and if it wasn’t so cold in the stone walls of the Keep, you would have wriggled away. 

Aemond. 

He had stood for your honour last night, he had stilled, deathly silent, in simmering rage as he looked upon his brother. He had made comments of resentment towards the King, even if only slightly, in the privacy of your shared chambers. He had even come to the bed when you had called out to him. 

Aemond was not as much of an enigma as you thought. 

If you could sway him, then the tide would shift in your favour. 

You needed to sway him. 

“Is it true?” You whispered into the air, unsure if he was awake, uncaring if he wasn’t.

You had his previous confession in your mind. 

But he was.

“Is what true?” Aemond whispered back, chest rumbling beneath your ear, voice crackling with sleep.

“What she said?”

What Alys had said. 

What Helaena had said. 

What they both had said. 

Was any of it true? Was this truly fated? Was this something you could not escape?

“I would not lie to you.” He murmured.

And for some reason, you believed him. 

Aemond could be as cruel and unjust as he wished, yet he was always forthcoming with you. Brutally at times.

The arm around you tightened, and you felt his finger rubbing back and forth across your skin. 

A great fall to tie two threads.

Your fall. 

If you had not fallen, would you be in this position?

Would you be forced to do what you were about to?

You shifted in his hold, feeling his gaze look down at you as you sat yourself up, dragging a leg across his hips, seating yourself on his lap. You looked down at him from above. In the dark you could still see the shine of his sapphire eye, and the soft glint of the other. 

Sway him to your every beck and need. 

You let your hands touch his stomach, skin exposed where his thin tunic had risen in the night. Fingers crawled under the shirt, dancing across his stomach as you felt his hands come to rest upon your hips, watching you move. 

“Spool hen Kasta, spool hen Zōbrie.” Spool of green, spool of black, You muttered looking at his face.

“Kessa.” Yes.

“Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.” Fated to burn together.  

You felt Aemond begin to harden beneath the heat of your core. His fingers rubbing up and down your hips gently as you continued to watch him. You let your hands glide further up his stomach, feeling his muscles clench as you revealed more of his flesh to the room. 

Sway him.

Make him need you. 

Make him think that he has you where he wants you. 

Leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his sternum, feeling his hips push up into you as you did. With timid hands, you grasped the edge of his shirt, slowly pulling it up and over his head. Aemond sat up to help you pull the last of it off, the thin material forgotten on the chamber floors.

The One-Eyed Prince laid beneath you, hair on his pillow fanned out like a halo. He looked so pretty. So dangerous. Like the flowers of Monkshood.

“Lanta hen keskydoso.” Two of the same, He murmured, hands grabbing the bottom of your chemise as you allowed him to pull it over your head. 

You were entirely exposed, seated upon a dragon whose fire had burnt many, including you. 

Slowly, you rolled your hips experimentally as you looked at him, feeling your core rub against the material of his breeches, his member hard beneath.

“Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon.” A great fall to tie two threads, The Prince whispered, and you stilled above. 

“Iā rōvēgrie ropagon.” A great fall, You echoed, “Iā ropagon ao inditan nyke naejot.” A fall you pushed me to.

Aemond’s hands tightened on your hips. 

“Nyke dōrī jeldan naejot ōdrikagon ao.” I never wanted to hurt you.

“Yn ao gōntan.” But you did. 

His fingers flexed on your flesh as you leant forward again, lips barely brushing his, “And you have. More deeply than I can say.” You pulled away from his lips, teasing him, and felt a sense of pride as you saw Aemond lift his head in an attempt to chase you.

Your hands moved down to his breeches, untying the laces, “Let me pretend that you haven’t.” You whispered, looking him in his eye, his own hands coming to assist him as he pulled the pants down his strong thighs and off of his legs.

Aemond’s cock sat heavily on his stomach, hard and thick as you seated yourself astride it, slowly sliding up and down his length, the head of his cock bumping against your bud as it moved through your now slick folds. 

You breathed heavily as you rolled your hips again, hands splayed on his chest for balance, finding a rhythm. Aemond’s hands rested on your hips again, gently pulling and pushing you up his shaft as he sighed softly into the room, eye not having left your face. 

“Please,” You whispered down at him, rising on your knees to line the head of his cock up with your entrance, “Let me pretend that you aren’t who you have become.” 

Slowly you slid down his length, feeling the slow stretch of his girth moving through your core. You sunk down to the hilt, feeling the most full you had ever felt, his fingers twitching around your hips as he allowed you to adjust to him. 

“Please.” Aemond whimpered below you.

Dragging your hips forward you felt Aemond’s length rub inside of you, stretching you out as you moved up each inch. As you slid back down you felt the head of his cock nudge the soft spongey spot within. 

This angle was so different to laying down and him on top. You felt fuller and more sensitive, and could control the thrusts as you pleased. 

You rolled your hips atop, feeling sparks of pleasure begin to grow in your stomach, heat rising into your cheeks as Aemond let you take control of the pace. Each roll caused you to sigh into the air, your hair falling over your face as you looked down at him. 

Aemond’s long fingers came to brush some loose strands behind your ear, fingers trailing down your neck as you rode him, goosebumps rising in their wake. He held the side of your neck softly, tenderly, and let you take your own pleasure into your hands. You sped up, thighs burning as you moved, your slickness coating his shaft and your inner thighs.

Sway him.

Leaning forward you brushed your lips back against his, watching as his eye slid shut to kiss you, delicately, passionately. Pouring each and every inch and ounce of adoration and love into you that the man possessed. And you took it greedily, swiping your tongue along the bottom of his lip, begging for entrance, asking for entrance, until his lips parted and he let you in, licking into your mouth as one hand held the back of your neck and the other continued to hold your hip.

Pulling apart from him you whispered again, lips brushing his as you spoke whilst riding him.

“Let me pretend that we have love.” 

A tear slid down your cheek.

You had not even felt it appear.

“Please.”

His hand brushed the tear away as he cupped your cheek, before it slid down your neck, down the valley between your breasts until it founds its home, nestled between your folds as you rode him, rubbing skilled, wet circles around your bud. You moaned quietly, sliding your hips back and forth on him faster, chasing your own peak as the sparks bloomed within. 

"Kepus." You whimpered, writhing in pleasure atop him.

Pleasure rose like the words of a sweet song, smoothly, poetically, and completely by your choice. It rose and grew within you as you bounced atop his cock and his fingers brought you closer to your peak. 

Aemond pulled you down to him kissing you, both hands holding your face as you rode him until he shifted, his feet planting down on the bed as he began to thrust up into you.

But it was not cruelly or quickly.

He kept the pace you had set and let your body slump against him, one arm coming to cross over your waist as he held you, the sounds of your wetness filling the chambers with the slapping of flesh below. 

“Aemond.” You moaned into is mouth, feeling the pleasure mount as the shift in angle wound the coil within you tighter, and tighter. 

He held your cheek and looked into your eyes, watching as you were lost to the throes of pleasure, whimpers and moans tumbling out of your mouth as he pressed kisses to the sides of your face, cooing as he thrusted up into your heat.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, watching as you rolled your hips back into his thrusts, feeling the coil begin to snap. 

“Aem.” You whimpered, feeling the heat in your body rise.

Your pearl rubbed against the base of his shaft with every thrust, and you felt the coil snap. You cried out into the night, back arching in his hold as Aemond continued to fuck you through your release, your own hips dragging down onto his length as a shudder rolled through you.

“Fuck.” Aemond moaned, and thrusted into you deeply, holding himself snuggly inside as he reached his peak. Your cunt convulsed around him, dragging out each and every drop of his seed, milking him. 

The both of you came down from your highs together, skin sticky and bodies hot. Aemond tucked your head beneath his chin as he pulled the sheets back over the top of you, still laying on top, cock softening inside of your core. 

Aemond wrapped his arms around your body, holding you to him as you basked in the aftermass of what that was.

A test.

Lips came to press a gentle kiss against the side of your head, breath lingering as he held his lips against your skin, holding you tightly against him. 

If it was anyone else, it would be loving. 

If it was anyone else, it would be comforting. 

If it was anyone else.

Aemond sighed, shifting beneath you, cock almost slipping out of your folds until he lifted his hips and pushed himself back in, basking in your warm heat and preventing his seed from being wasted. He kissed your face again and you let your eyes slide shut, thinking of the pretty purple flowers and the man beneath you.

Thinking of if you played your cards right, Aemond could bend to your will.

If you were patient.

You lay atop him for some time, eyes shut and breathing slowed, fatigue working its way through your body as he held you, and one hand soothingly rubbed up and down your skin. A continuance of comfort which lulled you closer to unconsciousness.

“You do have love.” Aemond whispered, thinking you were asleep. 

You did your best to not react, staying still in his hold as you felt him breathe in again to continue, sleep beginning to drag you under.

“You just do not see it.”

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[the-record]

soft!ellie headcanons

some soft headcanons for my soft babe

ellie williams x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of cooking but i think thats it!

she loves finding things for you on runs

vinyls, new clothes, flower seeds, little knickknacks

vinyls, new clothes, flower seeds, little knickknacks

shes so mean to everyone except for you

“el you are so whipped”

“shut up, no i am not. god you’re so annoying just leave me alone”

and you come running over

“baby look at what dina found for me on patrol! isnt it so pretty, it’ll look so good on the mantel right?”

“wow sweetheart that’s gorgeous, ill help you figure it out when we get home, hm?”

she loves cooking with you

depending on the meal, the lead cook changes

but without a doubt theres a record going, her swaying you with her hands around your waist

“god angel, your cooking always smells so amazing”

its so relaxing to her after a long day

and when you guys find good wine?

she absolutely loves dancing with you

her favorite is at the bar, though shed never admit that

ellie just loves showing you off, spinning you around

although she is ready to knock a guy out when they make a comment about one of your attitudes…

she loves taking you out on shimmer

just riding around for hours while on patrol, but really on a “date”

“and so i told maria, i need more help with the gardening, because why do i have to do everything alone, you know? and she just…”

she could listen for days, nodding and laughing along

plays guitar all the time

“els, can you sing f’me, i cant sleep.”

“of course angel. go on, get back into bed i’ll be right there.”

ellie is a huge book nerd

her favorite is when you read to each other

“‘christmas wont be christmas without any presents!’ shes so real tho bc right?”