#sky with feathers is so dear to me

[uousoupki]

feather sky hc where he uses loose feathers and attaches them to the chain in diff ways as like a bonding thing but like before the chain know he has feathers so they’re always like “where r these feathers coming from 🤨”

[fioiswriting]

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 

Everything he wasn't. 

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable. 

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

*** 

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 

As if to unveil what he held within himself. 

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

An unpleasant heat. 

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 

Jace almost choked. 

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand. 

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this. 

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

*** 

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 

He wanted more. 

He needed more. 

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling. 

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace. 

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

*** 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 

The sensation was delicious. 

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 

You could see through his game. 

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

*** 

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

[hollowtakami]

HEYOOO

so I read your keigo fics and I really loved them! What do you think about Keigo waking up from a nightmare and he can't find you, so he starts to panic, and when you come back from the toilet (or wherever you were), he immediately latches onto you panicking and crying

Man he is so sweet

hi anon! ^_^ tysm for your ask, it rlly made me smile hehe. here’s a small drabble as thanks:)

(apologies if its rusty, the only thing i have written as of late is uni essays-)

keigo gasped for air as though he’d been reborn, feathers pricked out like needles.

he clutched at his shirt like a vice, daring to tear through his skin and stress grip his dying heart. he panted, delirious amidst his fear.

the suns of his eyes bounced across every corner of the room, his free hand scratching away the duvet in search of you. nothing, not even his feathers could sense you, clouded by fright.

what the avian didn’t know was that you hadn’t left him like his father, you’d only gotten to get a glass of water after the drought in your throat had woken you up, not nearly as violently as the way your boyfriend’s body treated him.

what you didn’t know was that your boyfriend was unfurling faster than the might of his wings ever could.

pattering through the hallway of your apartment with a glass and a plenished throat, you gently broke your way into your shared bedroom with a tired hand.

your eyes retreated behind their lids at the light you swore you hadn’t put on, lest you disturb keigo in his sleep.

no, an instinctual feather did so.

you stop, feet planting into the carpet as your brain tries to process the scene in front of you, whirring through its fatigue.

there was keigo, plumage fluffed up in fear, eyes wild and pinned on you, your bedsheets in tatters.

“kei?” words clawed up your throat as you slowly made your way to the bedside table and placed the glass. keigo grabbed your wrist the moment you’d set it down, you managed to get a better look at him.

sunny bedhead and a dark sky lining his eyes, his chest heaved along with the heavy burdens that laced his blood, what was his own that didn’t stain his hands.

no matter how much he scrubbed his skin, keigo would never be clean. it had trickled into his brain, and he couldn’t even escape it in his sleep.

“stay,“ he silently barked, his words scratchy.

keigo’s stress grip on your wrist wouldn’t let up, the avian latched onto you for dear life.

your face fell, eyebrows furrowed as you saw his glassy eyes, glossed over with fear.

“bad dream, baby?” you whispered, slowly raising your wrist to run a hand through keigo’s hair, massaging his scalp with gentle nails.

keigo only choked on a sob, his vulnerabilities racing down his cheeks to their end. if only this would end, he begged to a god he wasn’t sure existed.

you brought your wrist down, eyes trained on the dots of his.

“‘m not going anywhere, baby boy,” you soothed, gentle reassurance hanging in the air until keigo was ready to pluck it down and hold it close to him.

he tried to not, more words contesting in his throat.

keigo looked down at himself, feathers shaking more than his tired body.

“bad..” he gestured to himself.

“you aren’t him, birdie,” your words were soft, sun against his skin. his heart swelled amidst the silent rage of his head.

soon, you felt keigo’s grip starting to soften too.

you grabbed the glass of water with a free hand, using the other to usher strands of gold out of his eyes, tucking them behind his ear as you helped him sip some water.

kissing his forehead, you cooed, “that’s my boy,”

keigo chirped, too frightened to speak. he would only chirp or coo when this regressed into his fear, not that you minded. you knew that his bird qualities were something he was forced to bury, much like other innocents.

but, there wasn’t any blood on keigo’s hands.

the only thing in his hands was the silk of your skin, fingers intertwined as you spoke to him with the song of your voice, an angel he would tell himself he didn’t deserve.

your wings were pure, his stained red. he was born like this, conceived by a monster of a man. so, that must mean that he was born the same.

it took an angel like you to help him realise he had never fallen, it was someone else who had clipped his wings.

[metranart]

hey, I know you probably busy and I’m sorry to bother you, but could you maybe make some headcanons of what hawks would do if y/n got pregnant?

You don't bother me at all, cutie. :) Here you have some cute little headcanons of our favorite birdie boy.

What Hawks would do if Y/N got pregnant? <3

Takami Keigo is not complicated, he wants as many chicks as he has fingers and toes, and he wants them all with YOU. 

You hadn’t thought about the subject but every time you’ve been at it … -it WAS unprotected. There was nothing to keep you from getting, round and heavy, with his child. And it wasn’t just once. Keigo could go for hours on end- he wouldn’t stop until he fucking collapsed on top of you, completely spent. “Sheesh, that-that was something else entirely, dove.” His smile bright enough to compete with the sun in the sky and win.

“If you get pregnant… I’ll be required to take care of you for the rest of our lives.” He shared all too proud of his deed, that look of adoration in his face, way too close to possessiveness. “—But one thing I swear, (Y/N). I’ll take care of EVERYTHING, you, them, us… All, you just watch me.” 

When the pregnancy test finally confirmed that his secret efforts had been fruitful, he nearly exploded with happiness, he carried you in his arms and your feet did not touch the ground again for the next forty minutes. 

“Dear god- you got even tighter.” Keigo’s voice sounded deeper, “So WET- my love, taking my time to preparing you first was more rewarding than I expected it’d be.” The lingering taste of you on his tongue nearly enough to get him off- “I’m LOVING this pregnant stage, don’cha?” 

The more your belly grew the more he glued to your side. All of the energy that in the past went into making the baby now goes into keeping you and his child happy and healthy. 

One morning, Keigo was looking at you with that unblinking, unreadable look of his, anxious you chewed at your lower lip before voice out your deeper doubts out loud. “I'm not a fan either-” his head cocks to the side, questioningly, and you suck in a nervous giggle, “-of my mom body.”

It would have been better if you slapped him, that would have been less offensive than what you just said. "I LOVE your mommy body, dove. I dream with your plump adorable tummy and all your mommy curves, all night long!" he stressed, ignoring your embarrassed giggles, in order to give a clear and firm statement, "... I'm even thinking about keeping you with that mommy body, all round and pretty and full of my chicks... how would that sound to you?" You shake your head, and he pouts playfully, your heart impossibly warm for him and his cute efforts which always work to make you feel better.

“Stop starin’.” You grumbled, cracking one eye open and staring at him, a tired grin ghosting your lips. “I can’t sleep with you watching me, Keigo.” The Hero grins, “Just checking that you were comfortable-” you shake your head, “For more than an hour?”

Keigo glanced downward at your stomach, a fond grin twisting the corner of his lips up as he imagined a little boy or girl, who looked everything like you- just with his last name, he asked for nothing else. The little one snuggled up in his arms as he read bedtime stories. He imagined teaching the child to ride a bike, to fly-… At this point, Keigo craved just for two things, domesticity and YOU… or just you, if it came to that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He growled for the thousand time, though his hands stayed gentle on your round belly. “I love everything about you. Your imperfections are so mouthwatering, (Y/N). My favorite parts.” He managed to sound reverent, like a man speaking of his Deity. He would kiss the ground your feet touch if you let him but sometimes you are so restrictive with him.

Having you in his arms has become his favorite part of finishing his patrol, that little extra weight you've gained is mesmerizing, he could adore you for hours, that's why since he met you, he leaves some feathers hidden in your apartment when he must leave, that way he can at least be close, even when he's far away.

"Don't think I don't know what you do, birdie." You whine playfully and he laughs, "how long have you known?" you snort through your mouth, "since we've known each other." Keigo snickers widely, you are definitely his person, no one else could stand how mushy and clingy he can be, more than you, his adorable and pregnant, dove.

🔞➡️ MHA X Reader NSFW ART

[bokettochild]

I cannot BELIEVE no one told me we had an update!!!!!

Anyways, here's my favorite bits as always, because I need to SCREAM about this one!

The rupee acquisition!

I love how JoJo included that traditional *item acquired* pose that all the Links do, and gave it a reason in the comic (Wind insisting he hold it up is just so fun)

Sky's comment though, "don't spend it all in one place". Isn't that a line you get in Skord when you acquire rupees? The cute little easter eggs here are so fun!

I also really love how Legend is taking an instructional role here, both with Wars and the champion!

While also letting his veteran show

and I love that the rest recognize that! Wild calling Legend "an expert" and actually listening to what he has to say, even if he doesn't agree with it.

I also super like the panels of Twilight's interaction with Legend here

Very eldest and middle sibling discussing the youngest child, and I love it. It reminds us that, even for all the cuteness we got between them in the last arc, Twilight still sees Legend as too rough around the edges, enough that it borders on bullying when it comes to some of the rest, and he's trying to curb that. And Legend is LISTENING, because (as I've said a thousand times) Legend respects Twilight and values his opinion. Twilight is his big brother too now and Legend, while still being himself, genuinely seems to care about his opinion.

Twilight's just tense in general, although why, I think is mostly because of Time's sharp scolding in the last update. Even though he's snapping back at the younger ones, he's not very happy to be snapped at right now, and he's eager to get out from under Time's watchful eye.

Time and Warriors

Because while he feels e has grounds to correct Legend for telling Wild what to do, Warriors straight up subtly scolding his protege is different. And the difference is that Legend and Wild and Twi had camaraderie (see Dawn p.3), they're brothers, but Wars is approaching this as a commander, a captain, and Twi doesn't appreciate that. Warriors isn't their leader though, but he's taking that role anyways. (Old habits die hard, I'm sure)

I mean, we all knew Wars was going to confront Wild sooner or later, but I'm glad he was so calm about it. Twilight's ruffled feathers (fur) is more from Time being overbearing, I believe, so it aggravates any slight annoyance Warriors might present.

Even despite some of our suspicions earlier, I like this bit here. Wild was a soldier once, and the captain is very much the image of what he would have worked with before. JoJo mentioned wanting to play with that dynamic, with them bothering having military background, and I think this is that training (hundred years ago though it was) kicking in and making the champion defer to the man who outranks him (as far as they know). Granted, they all call Wars "Captain" but this felt pointed.

I do love Four acting as the word of wisdom here, advising Time, just like he does Twilight, as to the best way to handle a team. it's a reminder that he's done this before, and he knows how teamwork can be, but also that sometimes you need space and working together means working in different areas.

Anyways, here's a couple bonus things that make me happy!

Bunny stance!

(shh, I know he's making a point by stepping on Wild's toes, let me have this)

Wars being so freaking pretty! Dear Hylia help me! (Is it wrong I understand Cia a bit now?)

Wind being the youngest sibling who is Done With Your Chatter

A competent boy being competent (and not as experienced as Ledge, but pretty darn close (if you've played both their games you know))

Showing off items! (I can hear the little ✨da nana na✨)

And of course, I love Time being a tired, overprotective parent (he looks like my mom here, good grief!)

[ashhh-14]

▨Kabedon▨

Characters- Ayato Kamisato, Diluc Ragnvindr, Kaeya Alberich, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao, Kaedehara Kazuha, Venti, Scaramouche, Dainsleif

Warning- Suggestive in some

Genre- ❃

Format- Imagine

Synopsis- How they would try and do the Kabedon

Masterlist

Ayato Kamisato

The head of Yashiro commission was deep in thought, giving a thought to what his dear servant and friend Thoma said about ' Infliction of ones charm' on their partner. A part of him just wondered if Thoma had been paying a little too many visits to the Yae publishing house but he kicked the thought out, focusing on the plan at hand.

Ayato is always subtle in his ways yet enchanting all the same. He thought it'd somehow be a great idea to kabedon you amidst the corridor of washroom from the main hall where the wedding between the other two prestigious commissions was going on. The hallway may be deserted but the sudden pin against the wall as soon as you existed by none other than your ever charming partner didn't cease to make your heart flutter, breath shuddering with the close proximity of feeling his breath hitting the supple skin as his other hand came up to gently grab a hold of your waist.

"Forgive me for not saying this earlier but" He moved a little, his lips next to your ear as he whispered, "You look absolutely enchanting tonight. " Warmth crept up your face as his lips started placing kisses beneath your ear, hands gripping his shoulders as you breathed, "Ayato you shouldn't- Hah-!" Your breath was caught in your throat as his lips sucked a tender bruise beneath the surface of the kimono on your collar bone. "Hmm? What did you say? " He mused, his chuckle deep as he softly bit on your earlobe before whispering, "Hime-sama"

Diluc Ragnvindr

Diluc seemed to have a special place in his household for Adeline as she has been around for a long time. Saying that the two of you didn't have much time to spend with each other as of late, she suggested that you two should do the special grape picking together with Diluc! Of course Diluc was quick to agree on the suggestion and ask you, wanting to spend some much needed time with his partner. Although his mind couldn't help but think about the teasing remark that Adeline added before ticking away 'May as well corner them for some privacy.'

You two were having a good time so far, picking the grapes for the special batch of wine which Diluc himself takes care of throughout the process, you couldn't help but think how it'd taste once it's done for this season. The wind was light and sun high in the sky when Diluc suggested to take a break, both of you laying on the soft grass beneath in the shade of a tree for a change. You peered your eyes open when you heard a slight rustle, only for your breath to get caught in your throat as you found yourself pinned on the ground by your boyfriend. "Diluc....?" You whispered meekly, wondering about the sudden course of action. "I just wanted to umm..." He gulped, trying to find the right words, " wanted to know how you would react if I were to pin you down." A fond smile graced your lips as you lifted your head a little, placing a feather like kiss on his cheek before whispering, "I thought the day was about grapes but I think I would much rather prefer your cherry red face. " and somehow he flushed a little more after that.

Kaeya Alberich

A person who he met in a whirlwind of fighting a frost storm lawachurl, from getting to know of you as a new recruit of knight of favonius, to you two actually becoming a thing. The possibility wasn't totally out the window given his flirtatious antics but given the powerful and confident aura you surrounded yourself with made it quite a surprise for a lot of people. So when the day came of your return from 3 weeks of you leading an expedition in farther lands, he was delighted and but of course, with a new antique up his sleeve. Your figure entered the quarters in long strides and other knights behind you dispersed, going for a much needed rest as you made your way to Master Jean's office to submit in the report when your movements were halted by gently being pushed against the wall, two arms caging you in a little space. "Not gonna greet me~?" Came a playful whisper of your infamous lover next to your ear when you suddenly got a hold of his arms, gently cradling it before quickly ducking and getting out of his kabedon. "Later lover boy. I gotta submit in the report first." Is all you said with a playful smile before you walked away. You left him amused and enchanted yet again.

Childe

Being The eleventh harbinger's assistant wasn't easy. Being constantly overloaded with paperwork, submitting reports of regular statistics to other harbingers, having to polish fighting skills everyday, accompanying him to overseas businesses was no easy task. And to top it all off, his flirtatious remarks didn't help. Sure he was serious when he needed to be, but a moment extra was spent in teasing or flirting with you. You would be lying if you said that you didn't find him attractive, and his antics didn't help the case.

Currently being on a mission in Liyue, Childe gave you a wave off to go and enjoy yourself after the day prior's hardwork which you gladly appreciated. Only as the day descended, sun sinking down the horizon did you see his crouched form looking at a distance from behind an obscure wooden planck. You walked up to him, crouching just behind him, "Childe?" His moments were swift as grabbed your shoulder, his other hand covering your mouth as your back pressed up against the wooden planck, him head now ducked even further and much closer to yours. You felt your face heat up as your eyes met his, his breath fanning your face. "I am keeping an eye on someone. Be quite. " is all he whispered before lowering his hand from your mouth, eyes searching for the target as your eyes had nowhere to look at but his chest.

Zhongli

You were exiting your office, a small stack of paper in hands as suddenly a figure towered over yours, soon making you realize that none other than your boss was pinning you to a wall. You felt yourself heat up, covering half of your face with the papers as you asked, " Mr. Zhongli, is something wrong?" You wanted to be as professional as possible despite the bond you two share outside of work but the option seemed far with your lover's antics. "Hm? According to the knowledge I got from an experienced woman on the docks of Liyue, this action should have lit up a 'spark' of sorts in my love interest." You felt his breath on your face as he came closer, taking a long look in your eyes. "You don't seem that much affected though. I think I should ask for something more effective next time."

Xiao

Taking a stroll in the forests of Liyue was always a peaceful moment with Xiao. His hand gently holding yours. The physical touch would have made him embarrassed but not here, away from prying eyes as he basks in your calming presence. You breathed a sigh, taking a breath of fresh air as you momentarily closed your eyes, but it was perhaps not a wise choice as you stumbled upon a rock, about to fall face first and by the suddenness of it all, pulling Xiao down with you. Even his reflexes spoke care as he flipped around before falling, falling on his back as your head hit his chest instead of the harsh ground. You slowly opened your eyes, about to get up when you realised your position, your eyes trailing to his which were already looking at you. A shaky breath left your lips as he leaned upwards, his lips gently coming in contact with yours and before you realised, your back was against the ground, his one hand supporting your head while the other intertwined with yours, pinning in to the ground. Passionate kisses never ceased as his head turned to the side, deepening the kiss.

Kaedehara Kazuha

The winds made him catch on your good mood earlier in the day. His own spirits at ease knowing you're okay and no better way than to take a stroll while picking up some sweet flowers now is there? A mindless tune being hummed by your lips, looking at the flowers in the basket but somehow the object at hand was fallen on the ground the next second, feeling of bark quick to be felt by your back as you found one of your hands above your head, intertwined with none other than your lovers. A soft gasp left your lips at the sudden action, your heart thundering like the Inazuman lightning in your chest as you felt him lift your chin, his tender and longing gaze taking in your features before his lips were gently placed upon yours. Your eyes closed on its on, the free hand bunching up his haori as your lips moved against his. He pulled away with a soft sigh, his face nuzzling in your neck as he softly nibbled at the flesh. His actions made it clear on how long today is going to be. He was away on the crux for quite a while after all.

Venti

He had a great day. What better way to end it than in the all too famous tavern hm? Maybe Diluc was a bit [alot] late in stopping the bard today, having his figure sprawled out on his counter was not the best sight after all. The tavern owner let out a sigh on how me has to leave the bard at his house again but suddenly the door opened, none other than you chiming in. "Apologies on being late. " You smiled apologeticly.

Of course the events brought you here. Here you were, pinned to your bed by none other than your very drunk lover as he showered you with unstoppable kisses to every inch of your face as you giggled with each one of them, his incoherent mumbling "sweet lover" "my pretty partner" not helping the case as your mind raced on how to put the bard to sleep with whichever sanity that was left in you.

Scaramouche

It was a little past midnight. The moon high in the sky shining through the windows as you read your book, awaiting your lover's return so you both can go to sleep. It wasn't long before you heard the door open, the all too familiar hat disregarded on the table as the door shut. "Hard day?" Was the only mumble that left your lips but silence was the only thing that returned before you found his figure on top of yours, his head nuzzled in your neck, his breath ticking your skin as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You wanted to rub his back but the lack of movement space prevented it so you instead opted to hum a mindless tune, until eventually his loosened. One of your arms snaking free, you cradled his head against you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was right. His only semblance was here.

Dainsleif

You wondered if Wolvendom was a secret home for your lover given how much time you two spent strolling there. This time was slightly different though. The weather was quick to change as it started raining heavily, getting you two wet in the process.

The fire crackling noise was filling up the space as both of yours upper layers of clothing laid in front of it. You sighed, slight cold nipping at your bare skin. "Are you cold?" Your eyes lifted up at him, suddenly aware of the close proximity and slight nudity. "A little.." Your eyes tried looking at anywhere but his handsome form, but that didn't stay for long as you found your back pressed against the wall of the cave, his soft lips coming in contact with yours in a heated exchange. The next thing you felt was his warm hand trailing up your figure, the temperature contrast sending shivers down your spine as the night and fire only intensified further.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Written by Yours truly

Ash

[vhagarys]

harrenhal

uncle!aemond x reader

summary: your uncle has come to take harrenhal, and his sweet, little niece

warnings: slight smut, kidnapping, dub con, mean aemond

MDNI

“i know you’re here, little niece,” your heart was pounding out of your chest as you hid inside one of the broom closets.

harrenhal had fallen. aemond murdered your father daemon and every other living soul in the castle.

you knew aemond would take his vengeance on your father, you had never thought to this magnitude.

as the only true born of daemon and rhaenyra, you were a gift to aemond from the gods. you always looked at him with such innocence, such reverence for your older uncle.

he reminisced how he would come to wish you goodnight in your chambers, lingering on your pert nipples poking through your small clothes.

he’d lay awake pleasuring himself to the thought of him stretching out your untouched cunt, making you gush around him. defiling his sweet, innocent niece had consumed his thoughts as of late.

he anticipated this day. he felt beside himself with glory as he lay waste to your father and his armies.

you heard footsteps slowly wandering through the halls. your body trembled so intensely you had to grab the wall to steady yourself.

“Ao gīmigon nyke jāhor daor henujagon kesīr rūsīr ao,” his voice eerily calm as he delighted in this little cat and mouse game you decided to play with him.

(you know i will not leave here without you little one)

when news of aemond flying to overthrow harenhal, you naively clung to the hope you could plead forgiveness to your uncle on your fathers behalf. he always paid you special attention as a little girl, surely he would spare you and your family?

after vhagar doused the battlefield with her flames, any hopes of peace were incinerated as well.

you caught a glimpse of your uncle before you scurried away to your best hiding spot. as he dismounted from his dragon, all hairs on the back of your neck raised as he plunged his sword threw the throats of men and boys alike.

as he made his way towards the castle, the hairs on the back of your neck stood as his laugh rung through the air.

this was the not your uncle, it couldn’t be.

you knew your only chance of surviving was to escape. if you could make it to the cellar, there was a secret exit which led to the forests surrounding the castle.

you listened as the footsteps receded, finally mustering the courage to slowly crack open the door to ensure his presence was gone.

your heart pounded so loudly in your chest you were afraid he’d hear it.

the coast was clear. not a single sound was heard throughout the hall. you had to force yourself out of the closet, your fight or flight instincts screaming at the top of their lungs.

you were as light as a feather on your feet, knowing he was listening for you to make the slightest sound.

your vision blurred with adrenaline. it felt as though you were a mouse running from a hawk, merely a temporarily delay in its inevitable demise.

the night sky illuminated only by stray candles lit through the corridor only added to our terror as you raced towards the stairwell.

behind you, a creak sounded in the floorboards. you whipped your head to assess the source, terror sinking into your bones at the prospect of him right on your tail.

in the same breath, your body suddenly collided with a sturdy presence.

aemond grabbed your arms so hard they were sure to bruise. every muscle in your body clenched and you screamed and used all your might to wrench your arms out of his grip.

he grinned sweetly as he backed you up into the wall.

“there you are my dear, i’ve been looking for you.”

“uncle please! don’t kill me, don’t kill me i beg of you. spare me, i-”

“shh, shh, shhh,” aemond caressed your cheek. he pulled you closer and you couldn’t help but lean into his embrace, perhaps your bodys final mechanism to convince your captor to spare you.

he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “aōha lentor maghatan bisa bē ao. nyke’ll mīsagon ao,” you froze at his words.

(your family brought this upon you. i’ll protect you now)

“uncle, we are family. please let me go. i’m your niece, i’ll do anything-”

in an instant, he hoisted you over his shoulder and walked out of the castle towards vhagar. your body went limp in his grip, exhausted from the sheer panic that had consumed you since his arrival.

aemond smiled at how easily his niece submitted to him. he knew how much you adored him, even as a monster you’ll come to love him still.

you knew what horrors awaited you if you were brought to the red keep. your stomach churned at the thought of being paraded around as some war prize by those who stole the crown from your mother.

you knew queen alicent and the hand will make a show of you, ‘the traitors daughter who’s come to pledge her loyalties to the rightful king aegon.”

you always feared your other uncle. he was impulsive, drunken, and depraved. after his coronation, these traits only magnified.

your last shred of hope was to make a run for it when aemond set you down. the moment you mounted vhagar marked the end of your freedom.

as if he could read your mind your uncles voice broke through your train of thought.

“listen to me sweet niece. i’m gonna set you down and you will not run from me. i would hate to see you suffer the same fate as your half brother,” you winced at the reminder of little lucerys.

your lack of response resulted in your uncle pinching the back of your thigh, “i need to hear you understand little one”.

ashamed at how helpless you were, you bit down on your lip so hard you tasted metallic to hide your whimpers.

“i-i won’t run uncle. you have my word,” aemond smiled to himself. he slowly slid you off of him, indulging the feeling of your full breasts pressed against him.

he couldn’t wait to feel your tight, wet cunt. to fuck his seed into you until you craved having him inside you at every waking moment.

you would carry his children, pure targaryen heirs to rule in years to come.

his cock stiffened in his riding leathers as he perched you atop vhagar, pulling your body taut against him.

“nyke jāhor gūrogon sȳz care hen ao riñītsos”.

(i will take good care of you little niece)

authors note: this man is an itch in my brain i cannot scratch, ENJOY

[thegleamingmoon]

Beloved.

Chapter 1 - Meeting you.

🪷✨ ❛ In every world, my heart would bloom for you. In every moment, in every lifetime, amidst the stars and the endless ocean, in every heartbeat and whispered breeze, I would choose you always and forever. ❜ ✨🪷

*********

The golden rays of the early morning sun filtered through the intricate carvings of the Padmanabhaswamy Temple, casting a divine glow upon its magnificent structure. And there she was, draped in a simple yet elegant saree as she walked through the temple's corridors, her footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone floors and like every other day, the air was fragrant with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, as the devotees murmured their prayers, lost in their own worlds of devotion as the girl walked into the inner sanctum, where the majestic form of Lord Padmanabhan lay in eternal slumber.

"Dear lord, please look after the world like you always do. I pray for the good health of my family and dear ones. May you always be with them and keep them happy." This was what she usually prayed for. Nothing more, nothing less. But today was different, she had come here to seek solace in the divine presence of her beloved deity but she still felt restless for reasons unknown.

The strange sensation grew as she moved out from the sanctum to the temple premises, she felt as if someone was watching her. Turning around, her eyes met those of a man standing a few feet away. He was tall and handsome, with an aura of mystery surrounding him. His complexion, very much like the clouds filled with rain and eyes, deep and penetrating that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.

"Namaskaram", he greeted her with a warm smile, his voice gentle and calming.

"Namaskaram," she replied, curiosity piqued by this stranger. "Are you new to the this place? I haven't seen you here before."

"Yes, I am new to this city." he said, his eyes twinkling with hidden knowledge. "I’m Aravind. May I know your name?"

"Bhadra. It's nice to meet you, sir", she replied and saw his smile grow wider, making his eyes twinkle with an emotion she couldn't comprehend.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bhadra. And we can drop the formalness." He said as she shyly giggled. It was sweet to hear her name in his beautiful voice. She thought, mentally facepalming to bring herself out of her mind. Something was really wrong with her today.

As they walked through the temple grounds, Bhadra found herself more intrigued, drawn into a conversation with Aravind. They talked about the temple, the city of Thiruvananthapuram, its history, and the legends that surrounded it. He spoke with a depth of understanding that left Bhadra in awe. Hours passed like minutes, and soon the sun began to set, casting an orange hue hue over the temple.

"What brings you here? And how do you know so much about this place?", Bhadra asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

Aravind smiled mysteriously. "Well, I have always been connected to this temple."

"Tell me about it." She looked deeper into his eyes, only to find a glimpse of her own secrets that were kept away from the world.

Bhadra lived a simple life, tending to the temple and helping those in need. She didn't remember a time when she was not insanely drawn to the deity. She had always looked up to the blue-hued god who slept on a thousand hooded serpent. She saw him in the vast sky, in her delusional thoughts, in the poetries she wrote, in the songs she sang and in almost everything she did.

She would dream of peacock feathers, moonlit nights and beautiful dense forests where gleamingly blurry visions of her beloved flute player would greet her with bliss and confusion. She would hold on to them to this day and maybe forever, without any expectations but just pure, boundless love that she had.

"Maybe those visions are trying to tell you something? You still get them don't you?"

That deep voice of Aravind broke her chain of thoughts as she looked up at him perplexed and maybe a little annoyed.

"Did you just read my mind?"

He just replied with a cheeky smile as he brought himself dangerously close to her, "Perhaps I just understand you better than anyone else, Bhadra. I have always done so." he gently whispered, only making her confusion grow.

"And I have always wanted to tell you that I love to hear you sing, even though you don't sing often. Your voice melts like honey into my ears. I can listen to it everyday." He looked into her eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"How do you say that when you have never heard me sing? Who are you, Aravind?", she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "You seem to know me in ways that no one else does."

He chuckled even as his eyes were moist, "Oh I have heard you countless times. You, my dearest, are much more than you think of yourself to be."

"What do you mean?"

"As much as I want to explain, I can't. He sighed wistfully. "It's sad, but I have to leave now. I will return soon, Bhadra. Until then, promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"Why?" She clearly didn't understand a thing. It didn't seem fair, or so she thought. This man had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, mysterious but familiar, only to say he’d disappear again, leaving her with countless questions. Yet, somehow, it all felt right. Despite not wanting him to leave, she could only hope that he would come back.

Adoring the curls that framed her soft features one last time, Aravind stepped back. "Until next time," he voiced, extending his hand. Bhadra grasped it firmly, losing herself in his eyes as she tearfully bid him goodbye.

"Moley," she heard her father's call and turned around. "I'm here, Appa," she yelled back, hearing his hasty steps as he reached her.

"I knew you'd be here," he said with a warm smile lighting up his kind eyes. "It will be dark soon. I want you to come home with me." He gently caressed her head, and she nodded in agreement.

"Are you okay, kanne? Were you talking to someone here?" He asked, concerned.

Bhadra turned to her side, only to find nobody there and smiled in despair and surprise. It all felt too real to be one of her delusions and too elusive to be reality. She wanted to tell her father about the mysterious person she met but she knew that it would be difficult for him or anyone to believe. So she chose to remain silent about everything that happened today.

"No, Appa. Let's go home" She replied as she followed her father on their way back home.

Today was different indeed.

**********

Moley/Kanne - a way to address a daughter or a little girl in Malayalam.

A/N - Wanted to write something like this for the longest time. This may have some cliche moments but this work by far, is the closest to my heart. And I may turn this into a series if y'all wish. So let's see. I hope you enjoy reading it <3

Tags- @krsnaradhika @houseofbreadpakoda @harinishivaa @achyutapriya @kaal-naagin @sambaridli @sambhavami @yehsahihai @ramayantika @khushireadsandrambles

[sassypossumm]

A Mistake

Aemond Targaryen isn't the easiest man to love, he's an even harder man to forget...

Heaving a sigh, you rested a hand on your growing stomach and looked up at the sky. The trees swayed with the wind, and a lone eagle flew overhead. Lost in your observation of the sky, you failed to notice the heavy footfall through the snow approaching you.

Turning, you took in the profile of the man standing next to you. The man who at one time upon first sight, you’d have run to with reckless abandon and flung your arms around. Looking forward again you sniffed and pulled your cloak tighter about yourself. Tense silence filled the expanse between you.

“I see you finally gave into your carnal desires for my brother.” Aemond turned his head to look at you. You met his eye briefly.

“He wasn’t the Targaryen brother I was first attracted to.” Casting your eyes forward again, you followed the flight arch of the eagle.

Were it not for the piercing cry of the eagle, you might’ve sworn that your mind’s eye was casting this scene about you. Unfortunately, you were still tethered to this plane of reality, and Aemond was very real, and very much standing next to you. And after all this time, you could still hear the storm of thoughts roaring in his mind.

“And yet, you married Aegon.” You closed your eyes. There it was. The condescending tone, the cold stare. Balling your fist, you whirled to look Aemond full in the face. I loved YOU. The words were on the tip of your tongue, screaming to be released. But you couldn’t give him that.

You wouldn’t give him that.

“He stayed.”

 I loved you.

“I came back.” Turning away, you wrapped your arms around yourself and closed your eyes.

“You left me.” You hated how small your voice sounded on that last word. Your vulnerability was the last thing you wanted to give this man.

“Sweetling,”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore!” You spat, turning to glare at him. “Do you think I cared about all the rest, Aemond?” Dashing away hot tears from your eyes, you stepped towards him, driving him back a step. Jabbing him in the chest with a finger you looked up at him angrily. “You. Left. Me.” Sniffing deeply you felt yet another stubborn tear trailing down your cheek. As you reached to wipe it away, Aemond beat you to it, running the pad of his thumb across the moisture.

“Sweetling” He whispered. Reveling in his touch after being so long without it, your eyes fluttered shut and you rested your hand over his. “You’re trembling.” Aemond said gently lacing your fingers through his. Shaking your head, you kissed the back of his hand and pressed it to your cheek.

“Why do you do this to me?” You groaned when he rested his forehead against yours.

“Do what, dear heart?” His voice was low, as if he feared that were he to speak louder, the tentative peace between you might be severed. Pulling back, you searched his eye, pain and remorse warred with the lusty haze clouding its violet depths. Ducking his head, Aemond dusted kisses across your jaw.

“Aemond.” You whimpered, running your fingers through his silvery hair. Feather light pecks turned to hungry open-mouthed kisses as Aemond reached the column of your neck. “Oh my.” The breathy quality in your voice drew his eye back to yours, and your breath caught on his blown-out pupil.

“Have I told you how much I admire your neck, my love?” Threading his hand through your hair, he gripped the back of your head and tilted your face up towards his own.

“N-not to my recollection.” You struggled to keep up with your thundering heart.

“Hm.” His eye dipped from yours back to your neck. “My apologies then.” Nuzzling the side of your jaw, he nibbled at the tender skin over your fluttering pulse before sucking harshly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, drawing a deep rumble from his chest. “Does Aegon touch you like this?” Pulling back, Aemond examined his handy work before locking his eyes on yours.

“Huh?” Eyes fluttering open, the roaring in your ears clouded out whatever he was trying to say.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He leaned closer to the mark again and slowly lathed his tongue over the forming bruise. You clapped a hand over your mouth in embarrassment of the loud moan you released at that. Aemond smirked against your skin and ran his tongue towards your collar bone.

“Aemond.” Your voice was no more than a pitiful whimper at this point, but you didn’t care. With all the strength you could muster, you pulled at his hair trying to bring his head, and more importantly his lips back towards your own. Eagerly he complied, raising up to cup your face with both hands, running his thumbs across your jaw.

“Yes, dear heart?” He whispered, nuzzling your nose with his own. Anchoring both hands in his hair you tried tugging him downward, but he stayed immovable like a boulder.

“Please.” Closing your eyes, you bit back tears.

“Please what, darling?” You huffed, annoyed at the teasing in his voice. You were in no gaming mood.

“Kiss me.”

“All you had to do was,” None too gently you cut off his words with your mouth on his. A muffled sound of complaint came from his lips, but you quickly quieted it with your insistent kisses. Aemond tilted your face with a touch that suggested he feared you might vanish if he applied too much pressure. Deepening the kiss with a sweep of his tongue into your mouth, any sense of you having any control over this exchange was quickly dashed.

Rising on tip toe, you ran your fingers through his hair while rolling your tongue over his sweeping into his mouth, returning the favor. Aemond groaned into your mouth at the action, a sound which you immediately swallowed and exchanged for one of your own. His free arm wound its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

“Darling.” Aemond moaned, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. Peppering kisses over your cheek, he reached your throat to suck and nibble his way to the hollow of your throat.

“Aemond.” You whimpered, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him closer to your own with a hand through his hair. Reaching your collar bone, he nosed at the bone before trailing kisses suggestively lower towards the neckline of your dress.

“Ñuha jorrāeliarzy.” His eyes met yours.

“You remember.” A gentle smile played on your lips.

“Of course, I remember.” Aemond chuckled, running his hand down your side to rest on your hip. His attention strayed again to the neckline of your dress. Never breaking eye contact with you, he worried about the material with his teeth.

Running his hand lower, he gripped your thigh and raised your leg to hook around his hip, pulling you closer. Kneading the muscle of your thigh he kissed his was back up your neck towards your lips. Sucking your bottom lip gently between his own, Aemond rolled his hips into yours.

“I remember every time I admired you.” Another roll of his hips drew a moan from your lips. Your hips began languidly grinding into his of their own accord. “Every time I worshipped you, ñuha jorrāeliarzy.” Resting his forehead against yours, Aemond gripped your thigh tighter and pulled you more fully against his hardening length. And there it was.

Dread rushed through your veins like cold ice water. This was not supposed to be happening.

“Aemond.” Clearing your throat, you pushed at his shoulder. He hadn’t seemed to notice that you’d went ridged in his arms, if the groan that fell from his lips when he ground against your core was any indication. “Aemond, stop!” You shoved at his shoulder more firmly this time. Aemond paused to look up at you, confusion clouding out the lust in his eye.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you pulled yourself free of his embrace and took several steps back.

“This was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” His expression morphed from confused to angry. “You hump me like a bitch in heat, and call it a mistake?”  Aemond hissed, quickly advancing on your retreating steps. Grabbing your wrist in a vice-like grip, he towered over you menacingly. “Tell me, what can Aegon possibly have to offer you that I don’t possess tenfold?” Your face burned at his words, but nonetheless you held your ground. Wrenching your hand free of his grip, you planted your hands on your hips and glared at him.

“Aegon could offer me honesty. Trust.” Aemond folded his arms and rolled his eyes.

“How trite.” You didn’t flinch at the scorn in his tone.

“On the contrary, Aemond.” Mirroring his stance, you gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’d be surprised how much passion there can be with honesty and trust.” Aemond merely smirked and slowly stepped towards you. Bending slightly so you were eye level, he narrowed his eyes.

“And how are honesty and trust working out for you, darling, tell me, does my brother fuck other ladies while you dally with me?” He spat the words at you. Shame crawled up your neck and rested behind your eyes in the form of unshed tears.

“It was a mistake.” You whispered, tightening your arms about yourself and turning so he couldn’t see you cry. The satisfied smirk fell from his face at your tears. Scrambling for purchase on your shoulders, he gently turned you towards him and pulled a cloth from his pocket.

“No, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for, I’m sorry.” Tilting your chin up he met your eye and dabbed at the tears. Sniffing, you reached for the cloth and dried your own eyes.

“This won’t happen again, Aemond.” Taking a step back, you pocketed the cloth and firmed your features. He frowned.

“Darling,”

“You may call me by my name, or even sister,”  

“Sister!” Aemond chuckled darkly. Folding his arms again, he raked his eyes over your form before returning to your eyes. “I’ve been your lover, known every inch of skin under that hideous dress,” Coming closer he lowered his voice and grinned, a cruel twisted thing. “Heard you scream my name in ecstasy at my touch, and you want me to call you sister?” Pulling back, he barked out a laugh.

“You can be a cruel man, Aemond Targaryen.” You hissed, narrowing your eyes. Aemond nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. But no crueler than you, dear sister.” Shame heated your face again. He wasn’t wrong.

“I wasn’t the one that left, Aemond.”

“I won’t apologize, sister.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize, Aemond. You made that decision for yourself; I hope you don’t regret it.” Aemond looked up at the sky and sighed before turning his eye back on you. Trepidation and uncertainty now swam in its depths.

“And if I said I do.” Pausing, he took a step forward. “If I said I do regret it, ñuha jorrāeliarzy?” Shaking your head, you turned away and rested both hands over the faint fluttering in your stomach.

“You no longer have that luxury, ñuha jorrāeliarzy.” You could feel him tense at the endearment. Casting your eyes over your shoulder you gave him a sad smile. 

TL: @feyhunter78

[littlejuicebox]

Little interruptions.

Summary: Parenting has its downsides. This is a drabble exploring that little slice of life no parent enjoys. Just a random bit stuck in my head today. Nothing special lol.

Tags/warnings: interrupted smut, parenting, not edited

Word count: 878

*

Soft dots of rain pitter-patter across the rooftop of the Ancunin estate. The children are asleep in their rooms down the hall, thoroughly exhausted after a long summer day of archery practice in the backyard. Evander had proven to be a surprisingly excellent shot for a four-year-old with a child’s practice bow; he held all the talent of a natural marksman and required little direction from Astarion.

The other two Ancunin boys had done well, though Finnick required significant curtailing to focus on the task – archery is not his preferred weaponry, he was much more interested in swords. Gale had been, as always, above average though uninterested in such pursuits.

A rumble of thunder overhead, right above the estate, greets the only two Ancunins still awake in the candlelit mansion. They pay no mind to the storm outside, for they are far too busy wrapped in one another’s arms.

Tav emits a delighted giggle as Astarion pulls away from their lazy, languid kiss and begins to lick a slow, winding trail down her body. His bare chest drags against hers on the way to his destination, and he briefly stops to suck a nipple in between his teeth. He nips just hard enough to pull a gasp from his wife before chuckling playfully and moving lower, lower, lower, until he’s hovering just above her mound. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating. She’s barren, completely exposed for him to admire. Her nightdress had been hiked up above her breasts long ago.

“And what do we have here, darling?” Astarion asks, as his fingers come to spread her slick folds. “A present for me?”

He’s about to press his tongue against that sensitive nub of nerves when the doorknob to their bedroom jiggles. There is no time to think. Astarion and Tav move quick as lightning; she yanks her nightdress down while he launches himself up and over to his side of the bed. The door swings open. They were narrowly fast enough to avoid mentally scarring the child standing in the dimly lit doorway.

“Gale, dear, what is it?” Tav asks, her head cocking to the side as she examines the worried expression on her eldest. Two more, slightly smaller figures appear behind him, each holding a stuffed dragon.

“The thunder woke us all up,” Gale explains with a frown. His voice sounds so small. “It was so loud, mama. Evan and Finn came into my room and then we all came here. Apple is hiding under my bed and she won’t come out.”

Astarion, eager to quell the concerns of his children and resume his prior adult activities nods and then says, “Yes, well, how about we get everyone back to their rooms—“

Lightning snaps like a whip through the sky, causing the twins to shout in surprise and hide their faces in their hands. Gale’s shoulders come up to either side of his perfectly pointed ears; his eyes are wide, green pools of concern. Tav turns her head to look at her husband, and he emits a slow, belabored sigh in response to her gaze. He knows where this is going.

“Fine, you three, come here.” Astarion grumpily beckons with a wave of his hand. The three boys quickly climb onto the bed and wedge themselves between their parents.

Tav pulls the blankets over the entire family, wrapping their children in a warm, down feather filled cocoon. Another rumble of thunder overhead causes all three Ancunin boys to tremble.

“You three are safe here,” Tav coos, fingers coming to lightly stroke against each of her children’s cheeks, one at a time. “Papa and I will take care of you.”

Astarion nods and hums in agreement as he begins to reluctantly settle himself into bed. This was not the night he’d been eagerly envisioning after a day of stolen glances between him and his wife. But the boys follow his lead and soon the entire family is locked in a snuggle pile. Tav begins to hum an old Elvish lullaby and the children drift off into reverie, a symphony of soft snores signaling their sleep.

Astarion is on his side and has one of the twins curled against his chest, his hand stroking a head of soft brunette locks. The other twin is facing the opposite way and clinging to his older brother; Gale is reciprocating the embrace, his chin resting on his brother’s head.

“Suppose we will have to pick up our activities where we left off tomorrow, my love,” Tav finally murmurs as she extinguishes the lights in the room with a flick of her hand.

“What activities, mama?” Gale asks with a yawn.

The two parents exchange wild-eyed glances from across the bed. Astarion panics and says the first thing that comes to mind. “Exercise, Gale. We were just about to exercise.”

“Oh…” the eldest Ancunin responds and with another yawn he slips into slumber with his brothers.

Tav and Astarion share a soft sigh of relief and then tuck themselves into bed with whispered goodnights to one another. Just before he slips into reverie, Astarion thinks that he and Tav will have to exercise twice as hard tomorrow to make up for tonight.

What a noble sacrifice on his children’s behalf.

[yandereunsolved]

☾ — Yandere Revali — ☾

"Impressive, I know. Very few can achieve a mastery of the sky. Yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar. It's considered to be quite the mastery of aerial techniques, even among the Rito."

"Hmm?"

"W-Were you not watching my feat of aerial mastery?"

"Sorry, Revali! I got distracted by one of the other Rito."

"Oh? What was this 'gracious' Rito speaking to you about? Was it that much more important than me?"

"It's nothing like that! I just got offered to be taught a few archery techniques. The Great Eagle Bow you gave me should be put to good use!"

What...? Some moronic half-cocked Rito is trying to teach you the thing I am greatest at? They're trying to teach my dear, my darling, my dove. How dare they.

"Ugh—such a betrayal. If you really want to learn something, then be taught by the master. Thousands have asked to receive my teachings, and I have turned every single one of them down. Yet, I extend my wing to you so you don't look so pathetic with that graceful bow on your back. Do you accept?"

"I kind of already made a promise that I'd go practice with them. You're really busy anyway. You have all that champion stuff you have to do. I wouldn't want to be a bother."

It seems like that Rito is about to have a flying accident. It'll be such a pity that they accidentally broke their wings and plummeted towards the ground. Their body will be barely recognizable. A pity. Such a pity.

"Nonsense. I could not allow my Hylian visitor to look like a fool in my village.However, if you already promised, it would be disrespectful of me to try and twist your word. Just take one of my feathers, will you? As good luck for your practice."

"Thank you for being understanding. It's such a kind gesture."

A gesture that you are mine. Such a silly Hylian. You don't know how courting is in Rito culture. Keeping that feather on you means that you are my new mate; you have accepted me. I hope that twat sees my feather in your hair before I kill him. 

"I am nothing if not generous." my love

( @sunset-peril @sixofcrowley )

[itsokbbygrl]

If The Wind Turns

moodboard by the incredibly talented Freya @almostfoxglove

🪽 Fallen Angel!Joel Miller x Fem Reader

🪽 Rating: T, there’s some language, no other warnings apply

🪽 Summary: You have me floatin' like a feather on the sea while you're as heavy as the world that you hold your hands beneath. Once I had wondered what was holdin' up the ground, but I can see that all along, love, it was you all the way down. Leave it now, I am sky bound. If you need to, darling, lean your weight to me. We’ll float away, but if we fall, I only pray, don’t fall away from me.

🪽AN: Freya made this moodboard weeks ago and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about it and Icarian (Carrion) by Hozier. The brainrot was too much and eventually this got written. It’s just a Drabble really, hardly anything to shake a fist at, but my dear friends @luxurychristmaspudding and @almostfoxglove gave really positive feedback so I decided to share it. It’s not edited, mistakes are my own, etc etc etc.

☁️•🪽•🪽•🪽•🪽•☀️•☀️•☀️•🪽•🪽•🪽•🪽•☁️

“Darlin’ you don’t understand,” he pleads. “You shouldn’t be attaching yourself to all this. You should—”

“Joel,” you cut him off succinctly, drawing his gaze back to your own. You use his momentary pause to step into his space, eyes confidently locked on his. His head tips down as you stand toe to toe. You lift your fingers to his chin, guiding him until he’s once again your equal. You hold him there. Your hands frame his cheeks, his scratchy beard lightly tickling your palms, thumbs stroking softly over his cheekbones. You feel him melt, if only a little, in the only way he’ll let himself have vulnerability—in microdoses.

“You know the myth about how the world is held up on the back of a turtle,” you start.

Joel huffs a half snort and the left corner of his mouth quirks up the smallest bit. You might not even catch it if you weren’t so attuned to every minute contraction and release of every sinewy strand of muscle that makes this being in front of you. But you were, and so you see, and you know he knows, and you’re hoping he’ll humor you. “Heard a thing or two about it, yeah.” And your heart nearly ruptures forth from its cradle in your chest.

“So this myth is recursive in a bunch of different cultures right? And it varies slightly. But my favorite is the problem of infinite regress, turtles all the way down,” you continue. “And that got me thinking about flying, leaving the world and seeing once and for all the turtles and their infinity, and that got me thinking about Icarus and Deadalus,” you lock onto his gaze, eyes true as they’ve ever been, wanting him to hear you as you say, “about how painful it must’ve been for a father to watch his son fall like that. And for the son—to have no recourse, no reconciliation, to simply be gone, forever, over one misstep.” It’s gone so quiet you wonder if his god has stopped time to listen. You hope he has. You have some choice words for him.

“Joel,” you soften your tone, “there is nothing wrong with you. You made a mistake. Isn’t it even written in the holy book or whatever that no being but god himself is perfect anyway? How could you be held to that standard?” You’re imploring him to believe you, branding it into his flesh with warm caresses of your thumbs over his cheekbones, under his eyes, over his brow. You lean your forehead to his and stay there, simply holding him and breathing in his calming scent.

Your next words are soft and unpracticed, “I’ve never been forcefully exiled from my home by a man who professed to be my father, I won’t ever know exactly the pain you feel. But Joel, I know the weight of shame that you carry and I’m asking you to let me help you carry it.”

He shudders a breath, just a small trembling thing, and then his lips are on yours, and this time, it’s you who melts, who falls into the gravity of him. You’ve never felt such a freedom or such a tethering. Love, you find, is full of contradictions. You swim in the ocean of his mouth, crest the wave of his tongue with your own. Push and pull and crash, again and again and again.

“For the record,” you get out from beneath the current you’ve created, “if you asked me,” you leave a gentle, lingering kiss to the corner of his jaw, “in my Icarian fall from grace,” a kiss to his chin, “I have a sneaking suspicion I’d find you there, down and down, forever, holding up the ground I used to walk on.” Joel’s jaw ticks, his eyes glassy and deep, and you pray to whatever god might be listening that you never forget this moment. “It was always you, it always will be you. Joel, whatever you’ve done, you’re not irredeemable, and I’ll spend the rest of my godforsaken life showing you that, I fucking mean it.”

He lets your words float on the air. Then he sighs. “Ok then,” he relents. Joel never understood holy wars until he met you. Now he wouldn’t hesitate to battle against all of the angels above and demons below if it meant protecting you. Maybe that would be enough to save his soul—laying down what’s left of his earthly life in defense of the closest thing to true divinity he’s ever known.

[yurinaa-world]

Hii! so today is white day and I was wondering if I could get Sunday and jing yuan headcanons with their partner on white day.

thank you and have a great day/night 💞

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Sunday & Jing Yuan x Gender-neutral Reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: spending white day together

Warnings: Fluff, spelling mistakes,

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

He's a romantic man as well. Only want to do the best for you on this very special day. Showing up at your home with the fresh flowers that have been picked from the ground this very morning once you’ve taken the flowers, he just places a feather light on your hand almost as if it’s delicate like glass.

After that, you just spend some time together, but not until you see an event that piques both of your interests. Just some random event hosted for lovers to have a good time yet the big thing they advertised was a simple classical dance.

It's a pretty basic thing ever and not the first to be done but if you just wanna go for the fun of it, it wouldn’t hurt to dance and have some fun right?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“A dance, my dear.” Sunday holds his hand out for you to take, a charming smile on his face.  His eyes twinkle at you, and your heart races in response. You give him a timid smile as he takes your hand in his his other hand going to your waist, with yours going onto his shoulder.

Slow dancing with each other, the gentle sway of your bodies as well as the melody that fills the air around you both is almost hypnotic.  

Your cheeks tingle from his sweet touch, and your heart thumps loudly in your chest. Your mind wanders off as you enjoy the moment.  Before he spins you around, mimicking the bright smile you have on your face "I'm so grateful to have you." You whisper, and you begin to blush.  His eyes light up with adoration as they look into yours. 

  Your heart does flips as he looks at you with such loving affection in his eyes.  He leans in closer and his lips brush over your cheek. The feeling of his breath against your skin causes your stomach to turn. he smiles at your reaction.

“Me? I am lucky enough to have you look my way.”  his soft voice sends shivers down your spine. You feel yourself blush more as he kisses you the lips softly, before leaning back once more. 

"I'll still love you no matter how much time passes between us."

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

He’s so romantic about it, even taking a day off (skipping out) from work, just so could plan out the entire day with you and have some fun together.

He planned everything out for you, his day off, going to the flower shop and the owner giving you such beautiful flowers since it's a special day, or how the owner of the chocolate store just randomly gives you the most expensive chocolate box saying “It's a romantic day, you deserve to be happy.” Everyone been saying that all day?

But the gifts don’t stop, jing yuan himself gives you something so special, a ring that is made of gold, making your heart jump. It looks so expensive. He didn’t have to! But you can’t take it back now or else he’ll get pouty with you, along with the excuse that “It’s a special day to show love and you must accept it.”

Last but not least, watching fireworks together since every year the designs that fireworks make in the sky, makes you wish the day would never end.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Bursts of colour paint the night sky, each explosion accompanied by a symphony of crackles and booms. The vibrating colours mix to a spectacle of an image in the sky.

 You wanted this day to never day. you could see the smile on Jing Yuan's face but it was directed towards the beautiful fireworks at you.  He looked at you with that look that always made your heart race, like a thousand fireflies flying around. 

“Aren’t you going to even look at the fireworks?” You can’t help but ask, ah..is there something on your face or something?  Is that why he’s staring so much? “Want a better look?” he smiles —to your shock—picking you up from your feet as if you weighed nothing. 

 Jing Yuan’s strong grip on your waist with your legs automatically wraps themselves around his waist. the bright gold firework went off, illuminating his face—he looked so happy— you couldn’t help but give him some of your love–even if it’s just a fraction, he’ll still enjoy it–just leaning in and kissing him on the lips whilst your arms tightly wrapped themselves around his neck. 

Just because the fireworks end doesn’t mean you have to.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[look-at-the-soul]

Watching over us

Tommy Shelby x reader

This story has been in my drafts for a while… I wrote it for @peakyswritings 2K celebration 🎉 congratulations dear Reb! You’re probably way over by now… I’m sorry for taking so long!

But like I always say, each story has its own time… initially it would focus in that infamous scene between Lizzie and Tommy in the open field, I never liked how she approached Tommy in such vulnerable state so I decided to “fix it” 🤭 but it was so so dark that I doubted and never posted it, to portray Tommy like that, gave me chills beyond words, luckily after dreaming of my grandma after she passed away, I decided to mix both ideas and make the story a little less sinister… or at least I hope so.

Like always, my deepest gratitude to @blondie-22 for the remarkable work around the moodboard, I mean look at this?! It’s perfect!!! 🙌🏻👏🏻

Summary: Ruby has been having some dreams that make her feel uneasy while Tommy is away. Because how would you feel after dreaming of someone who already passed away but it’s trying to send a message?

You paced the open room from side to side, toying with the necklace around your neck. Patiently waiting for your husband to arrive.

It was only matter of time.

The sky went dark a while ago and you really couldn’t put this on hold. His daughter had questions, she wanted answers, an explanation… something to believe in.

Frances had asked a few times if you needed something until you guided her to her headquarters, longing for some peace, for a moment alone to try to rearrange your own ideas.

A part of you felt calm, looking at the bright side, it wasn’t something you should feel worried about. Another part felt uneasy about how to approach the matter properly.

Eventually, the sound of Tommy’s car approaching filled your ear sight and you rushed towards your husband.

“Tommy.” You called breathlessly.

“What’s the matter?” He asked right away, aware of your state.

“I’m so glad you’re home now, come… we need to talk. About Ruby.”

His heart stopped beating for a split second, worry shadowed his crystal orbs.

“What happened?” He tensed thinking of the possibilities.

Taking the briefcase from his hand, you placed it on the table by the door, to move then to get his coat.

“What’s the matter?” He asked bluntly trying to control his voice.

But you pushed him slightly until he took a seat, not knowing how he’d take the news. He was particularly protective over Ruby specially after she miraculously overcame pneumonia.

“Take it easy, she’s waiting for you in our bedroom, I asked her to sleep and assured her you’d wake her up to talk…” taking a deep breath, you placed your hands on his shoulders for reassurance. “She’s been dreaming of Polly, she only started this week. A dream per night, it’s very vivid and she remembers everything afterwards. But she’s scared.”

“Ruby, Ruby, my little Rube.” He mumbled getting rid of his leather gloves. Standing up, he skipped a few steps on his way to the second floor, you following him closely.

The abrupt passing was taking a toll in the Shelby family. It wasn’t easy to move on, specially as grief came in waves.

You saw him stopping on his tracks at the sight of his daughter sleeping on his side of the bed, her hair scattered over the pillow, her soft features relaxed.

Gently, you pushed him towards the bed, so he could get closer.

Sitting by Ruby’s feet, Tommy doubted of disturbing her sleep, he contemplated the small and fragile figure, his precious daughter. Touching her hand gently, he brought it to his lips, to place a feather-like kiss.

“Daddy?” Her eyes fluttered open.

“Yes, I’m here my darling.”

Ruby launched herself into his arms, finding the comfort she needed in his chest and embrace.

“I saw aunt Polly.” She explained rubbing her eyes.

Tommy’s eyes searched for you at the opposite side of the bed. Then, he caressed her face, noticing she was still wearing the Black Madonna around her neck.

“What did you see?”

Ruby then went on to explaining him all about her first dream. That first night she dreamed of Polly, there was a knock on the door and Ruby went to open it, even though it was always Frances responsible to attend, but when she saw her beloved auntie, she didn’t hesitate to give her hug. To which Polly only answered with a smile and wrapping her arms around Tommy’s daughter. The following night, Ruby dreamed she was using the swing by the big tree and as she started moving higher, she looked over her shoulder and found Polly pushing her, when the girl asked how could she do that, her aunt only gave her a lighthearted laugh and kept pushing her until Ruby looked back again and she wasn’t there anymore.

The first verbal communication came by the third night though. When Ruby prayed before going to bed for her aunt, You told her it was the best she could do, pray for her soul, for her spirit to find peace. That night her dream started when she was sitting by the fireplace, feeling someone close, Ruby turned her head and found Polly standing by the doorframe.

“I’m praying for you.” The girl started the conversation.

“Thank you.” Polly replied with a nod, wrinkles appeared around the corner of her eyes when she smiled at her niece. “I heard you.”

“How?” Ruby asked in confusion.

“Have no fear my sweet girl, I’m always watching over you.”

When Ruby tried to get up to be closer to Polly, she was gone, and that’s when Ruby woke up.

Tommy gasped by the surprise the dreams his daughter was having.

“Polly.” He murmured.

“Am I going crazy daddy?” Ruby asked with concern.

You already assured her that wasn’t the case, she should feel calm and thankful that Polly had chosen her to let them know she was alright. But she needed to hear it from her father.

“No, of course not. Polly loved you very much.” He assured her.

“She said she loves you too and that she’s sorry for never telling you that.” Ruby treated Polly’s message for her father, which sent Tommy to let out a choked sob.

“She told you that?” He asked shocked but treasuring her words.

Ruby nodded and then proceeded to tell her father another dream, she was walking in a beautiful open field full of flowers and trees, she could hear the river close, the sky was clear, it was a gorgeous day. A beautiful butterfly caught her attention.

“She told me to ask you to be careful.” Ruby expressed solemnly. “Don’t believe everything. That you’re not going to die.” His daughter sighed and then continued. “She said read the papers.”

Tommy’s head snapped to find you staring at him already.

Time stood still for an instant. Blood flew off his body, he had kept a secret the illness detected by Doctor Holford from both his children. After he set Lizzie free and signed the divorce papers, Charlie went to live with her and Ruby, but a few weeks later, Ruby asked to see her father and occasionally stayed to sleep there, you had welcomed her with open arms. You had accidentally found the diagnosis and since then you had supported him without a second thought. Convinced to help him live his last days as better as possible.

That was part of the reason why he rushed the wedding and asked you to go to courthouse in the middle of the day, he was afraid to leave you unprotected.

“Were you going to die daddy?” Her concerned voice brought Tommy back to reality.

“Ruby, remember when you asked me if it was a bad thing that you dreamed of someone who is already gone?” You asked the girl instead, walking around the bed to stand behind Tommy.

When she nodded, you smiled briefly. Going back in time.

“Sometimes it’s a signal our loved ones give us to let us know they’re alright, or guide us somewhere.” You explained softly.

Tommy cleared his throat.

“Y/N is right.” Tommy explained. “That’s how I met Y/N.”

Flashback

Your heart froze, you had seen everything. A man desperate screaming into the nothing, bringing a gun into his temple.

But it failed… thankfully.

Or at least you didn’t hear the shooting, but you saw him collapsing into the mud. As you were about to run towards him, a tall, slim woman approached him. She mumbled something and then let a few bullets fall next to him.

You would never approve how Lizzie approached the matter. Tommy was in a vulnerable state after failing the Mosley assassination, he needed someone to be there for him right there to pick him off the ground. Not a resentful wife giving him the bullets. You shook your head disapprovingly at the thought.

*

“Tommy…” it was his mother’s voice. Was he already dead? He had to. “Tommy it’s not your time yet.”

Again there was her sweet voice, just like he remembered.

“My darling you need to get up. You still have things to do.” She insisted. She looked beautiful.

Just like the morning before she drowned in the canal, her hair blowing against her face, her crystal eyes just like his shining.

But he was tired. Oh so tired of everything already.

She pressed down a kiss to kiss his cheek.

“Wake up and you’ll find what you need.”

“Don’t go mother.” He whispered just as he felt someone hold up his head.

*

“Mister? Can you hear me?” A woman dressed in a white gown kneeled before him, gently placing his head on her lap, trying to remove the dirt from his eyes and nose.

And he knew right away, what his mother meant in his dream.

When he saw that selfless woman taking care of him considering the state he was in, both physically and mentally he knew you needed to be in his life. You didn’t hesitate to offer her help genuinely, didn’t care your clothes got dirty, instead you focused on his well-being.

(End of flashback)

“You know the rest of the story, Lizzie and I got divorced and after that, Y/N moved in with me, she’s been taking care of me.”

“You’ve never talked about your Mum.” Ruby pointed out. “I didn’t know you dreamed of her too.”

Tommy nodded, moving one of his hands to his shoulder, to cover yours. Touched by remembering the events. Of course he decided to not mention Ruby that her own mother dropped deliberately the bullets next to him before you helped him. She didn’t need to know that.

“The night before that happened,” you spoke looking at Ruby, “I went to sleep early, I felt so tired but past midnight I started to feel uneasy. And out of nowhere, I found myself walking in a wide open field covered by fog, I kept walking and when I reached the river, there was a woman who asked me for help desperately.”

Taking a deep breath, you continued with the story. “I didn’t recognize her at all, she just kept asking for my help, calling for someone whose name was Tommy. When I saw the fear in her eyes, I followed her, we kept walking for a while until I saw a shadow standing in the middle of the field.”

Ruby’s eyes observed you intensely.

“Help him please.” She pleaded again. “After that I woke up, it was probably five in the morning just like in my dream, luckily I knew the place so I grabbed a coat and went outside to see if it was real… something indescribable was pushing me to keep going, until I found your Dad.” You sighed loudly at the memory feeling Tommy squeeze your fingers.

“That day, Y/N saved my life.” Tommy added, if it wasn’t for Y/N, he would have taken the bullets after Lizzie left him there in a vulnerable state and to end with his own life.

He couldn’t help it but shudder at the memory.

“I didn’t know back then she was Polly and that she had just passed away.” Y/N continued trying to explain everything to Ruby according to her age. “But as I helped your father back into the house, and days went on and we were talking about what happened, I told your Dad about my dream and described the woman I saw, when he showed me a photograph of your aunt Polly, I was surprised and shocked to know it was her.”

“Aunt Polly helped you save my Dad?” Ruby asked incredulously.

Y/N gave Ruby a reassuring smile. She had so many reasons to believe and be thankful for dreaming with Polly when Tommy needed help, that she found a way to communicate through her dream. Otherwise she wouldn’t have met him.

Tommy nodded profusely, and now he was sure Polly found a way through Ruby to let them know she was alright among other things.

“Sometimes Ruby, our loved ones know we need them and when they visit us in our dreams it’s a good thing after all. I like to think they do it because it’s the way they have to show us they’re still around, they’ll always be.” You explained lovingly.

“I’m not scared anymore then, I know aunt Polly is still around.” Ruby declared solemnly.

Even it had been months since her passing away, Tommy sometimes still called her name after a meeting or looked up in the sky to find an answer.

He wasn’t sure how the afterlife worked, sometimes he thought it might be a result of his desperate need to find a solution. But listening to his daughter’s dreams… he had no other choice but to believe it might be real.

Tommy nodded, with a lump installed in his throat. “You can be sure, she will always be watching over us.”

Kissing his daughter goodnight, Tommy tucked her in and then he guided you outside the bedroom.

Rushing downstairs, Tommy went straight to his office to search for the papers. You following him but decided to give him some space, his eyes scanning the pages. One after one, cursing in between, you could see frustration taking a toll on him until he stopped abruptly.

Walking around the desk without asking him what was happening you took a look over his shoulder, following what caught his attention. And there it was, a photograph in the social section.

“Is that…?” Confusion crept over you.

“That bastard.” Tommy murmured.

His doctor was posing at the wedding of Diana and Oswald, the doctor posing next to them. All this fucking time… he creased the newspaper hard.

He was determined to end it right there, to get revenge after realizing of all the lies he had been telling him. But as he was about to walk out the door with a loaded gun in his hand, a soft but firm hand stopped him.

“Tommy.” You called him softly. “Take a minute to think this through… I know he deserves the worst punishment possible, he’s the worst. But you’re better than this.”

Your words seemed to soften his eyes for a moment, when he looked at you his whole expression changed.

“You told me you wanted to be different… better.” You tried again noticing the internal battle he was challenging. “You’re not like them.”

When Tommy’s anger subsided, you took the chance and retrieved the weapon from his hand placing it over his desk.

“Listen to me, take this easy.” You suggested, terrified of the look in his eyes. Since the day he pointed a gun to his temple you have never felt so uneasy and worried about him. “Tommy? This is what they want, a visceral reaction. They want you to explode and act impulsively.”

You felt him shaking under your touch.

“All of the lies he told me…” Tommy finally mumbled. “That fucking son of a bitch assured me these were my last days alive.”

He pursed his lips in an attempt to contain his anger. Not against you, but the situation.

“I know, my love.” You felt on the brick of tears. “But look at the bright side… we’ve a long road ahead.”

That’s when Tommy finally broke down. Hearing you say those words meant a lot to him.

He gave in and his weight pulled you down with him still in your arms, his choked sobs shattered your heart. He was like a young boy crying for his favorite toy.

“Tell me it’s true. Tell me Y/N.” He pleaded between sobs.

Since he met you, he told you how unfair it was after two failed marriages to finally find his true love but after his diagnosis he was angry at how little time he would have to love you.

And you felt the same.

You rocked him gently from side to side, feeling a wave of relief as your eyes fixed in the flames flickering in front of you.

“You aren’t sick Tommy, they lied to you to make you weak.”

News like that it wasn’t easy to digest, not especially after making peace with the idea of death. But finding out that he was healthy gave the two of you the chance to live what you’ve been missing all your life.

It gave you hope.

Although grandma doesn’t make an appearance here, she’s always the main inspiration, follow the Grandma series here

A dark story like this is never easy, so if you feel up to, I’d love to hear what you think! ✨♥️

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@onlydeadcells @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @winchestergirl22 @zablife

@elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

@lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

@ironpen @holacia3 @narlytude

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter One}

Alastor x (fem)Reader

Summery- Innocence meant nothing in a place like this. Here, innocence was weakness. It would only get you killed. And yet, it was craved by the most twisted and sinful of demons.

Innocence to them, was something to be tainted, corrupted, and ruined beyond saving. It gave them great pleasure to destroy that innocence.

And he was no different. To him, she was nothing more than a new form of entertainment. But even he, as demented and cruel as he was, could not ignore the feeling that slowly grew deep within his blackened heart.

"What have you done to me?"

I was once a woman of god, my faith unchanging and strong. Because of that, I was granted entry into the kingdom of heaven. However, it would not last.

I awoke in a dirty and dark alleyway, my whole body ached, my mind struggling to keep up. My eyes opened, and I was met with a most horrifying scene. Above me, in the blood red sky, was a giant pentagram that loomed over all. My heart sank upon realizing just where I was. Hell. I had landed myself in hell.

But, how? I was in heaven. I had earned it. I had been good. I've only ever been good. I was faithful and true. So why? I brought myself to a sit, as I did so, a sharp stab of agony shot up my back. I failed to hold back a cry of pain.

Looking back on myself, a gasp escaped me as I found the source of my pain. My wings were still there. Once neat soft white feathers, now messy and dirtied from the ground. But that was not the worse of it. What made my stomach lurch, what caused the horrible throbbing pain I could not ignore, was the broken joint on my left wing.

The bone jutting out from flesh, golden blood dripping down the feathers of my wing. The fact that I had wings at all was proof enough I actually was in heaven. That, and my long white and gold-trimmed dress. However, it only made my confusion grow. If I was in heaven, why am I here now?

I took a shaky breath before attempting to stand, however it would not happen so easily. I hissed out as I felt a sharpness in my legs. Looking down, I saw more of my blood leaking from the various cuts along my legs. One nasty deep gash in particular on my right calf. This wasn't good.

I was bound to be attacked by some loathsome demon if I didn't try to escape. Flying wasn't an option, and neither was walking it seemed. But if I didn't do something quick then-

"Well. What do we have here?"

My breath caught in my throat at the sudden voice. I looked up to see a rather tall, well dressed demon standing before me. His grin, filled with sharp teeth, made my skin crawl. His deep red eyes bore into my own. He looked at me as if I were his next meal, and in a place like this, I very well could be.

I kept my mouth shut, even if I wanted to talk, I couldn't bring myself to speak. So, he filled the silence himself. "I thought I had seen something a bit strange earlier. It's not everyday you see an angel falling from the sky! Well, not unless it's time for the yearly extermination. If that's what you're here for, I'm afraid your a tad too late." He said with a chuckle. Still I kept quiet, he continued.

"Though, you do not look like the usual exterminators. No, I don't think you are. How very interesting." He took a step closer to me. Finally my body reacted, I scramble to move back as he grew closer. My back hit the hard brick wall behind me, I wince at the pain I received by doing so.

My heart was beating out of my chest, tears gathering in my eyes. My reaction seemed to have been amusing to him, as his grin grew wider.

"Afraid?" He leans down, his face inches from my own. "You should be." I shut my eyes tightly as he moved his hand up to my face. Flinching as his clawed finger made contact with my skin. I felt him move a strand of my messily tangled hair out of my face, before his hand left me.

"A creature like you my dear, is just begging to be harmed in a place like this. Though, I don't entirely blame you. You appeared to be heavily injured." I dare to open my eyes, only to be met with his sharp gaze.

His eyes only left mine briefly to meet my broken wing, then down to my injured legs, then back up to my face. "Quite the fall you had." He chuckled. I only nod. That had to be right. I fell from heaven. It was the only explanation that made sense.

Why else would I be here? The demon stood straight again, looking over his shoulder for a moment before turning his attention back to me.

'I doubt I'll ever get an opportunity like this again.' He thought, his grin somehow growing even wider. "Tell me, what do you plan to do now? Surely you intend on leaving this horrid place, yes?" He questions. Of course I do. I don't want to be here any longer that I already have. I nod my head, words still failing me.

"It will be quite the challenge my dear. You can't fly, and no one leaves hell just like that." He says with a snap of his fingers. "What will you do?" An excellent question. What will I do? What could I do? Panic set in quickly as I realized that there was nothing I could do now. I was stuck here. I would never be able to leave this god forsaken place. The tears finally began to roll down my cheeks, my shoulders shook as I cried.

How could this have happened? Why was this happening? Perhaps I've done something wrong? Maybe I've upset god in some way? Is that why I'm here? I'm being punished? Is that it? The demon's voice caught my attention once more as he spoke.

"Oh, how I hate to see a lady cry." I could have sworn there was a hint of sincerity in his tone. But I would be a fool to think a demon could feel sympathy for anyone. "Perhaps, we should make a deal."

I wipe a few tears away before looking at him with a confused glance. "I'll try and find a way for you to return to heaven. And in return..." His expression grew dark and sinister. "All you have to do, is amuse me." Amuse him? My stomach churned at the thought of what a demon would find amusing.

I look up at the sky, the pentagram's glow stinging my eyes. Heaven was out of reach, but I yearned for nothing more than to return. The deal almost sounded tolerable. I look back at the demon and finally, I spoke.

"W-Will you hurt me?" My voice cracked. "Of course not!" The demon waved his hand, as if dismissing the thought. "I'm rather curious about you. And I can't have someone like you harmed. Your value topples almost over all here. Many demons would kill for a chance to obtain an angel such as yourself. That alone is enough for me to keep you in tact as much as possible." His words weren't comforting, that's for sure.

But he said he wouldn't hurt me. I think. I couldn't trust him, but what other choice do I have? I don't want to be stuck here forever. The demon offered his hand. "What do you say?" He asks as a faint green glow engulfed his hand.

I sigh before hesitantly taking his hand with my own. As our hands clasp, the glow engulfed mine as well and a sting could be felt throughout my palm causing me to wince. The glow grew brighter, I shut my eyes tightly to shield my eyes from it.

I missed the twisted smile from the demon, but I felt his hand tightening around my own slightly before the glow finally calmed down and went out. The demon let go of my hand, only to pick me up. I gasp as I felt myself being hoisted up into a bridal style carry.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him, so I kept my gaze down at his chest. "Hold on tight." He warns me. And before I knew what was happening, I felt a rush flow throughout my body. It was almost like the feeling you'd get when going down a steep drop on a rollercoaster. And suddenly, we were in a new location.

I look around and take in my surroundings. There was a rather nice looking home before me. Well, I could consider it nice if it didn't look...haunted. I could have sworn I saw a shadow move in one of the many windows. Surrounding the home was a swamp, the water was infested with gators.

But not normal ones. These gators were far larger, their scales an inky black, multiple sets of eyes glow a deep red, and their teeth abnormally sharp and long, stained with the blood of I didn't know what. The plant life was unnatural as well. While they were alive like normal plants, they were sentient.

Looking for some unfortunate passerby to feast upon. This being proven by a demonic version of a frog hopping by one, only to be snatched up and ripped apart. I look away, not wanting to watch as the sound of crunching and squishing filled my ears. The bugs were abnormally large too, and just as carnivorous as the other creatures of the swamp.

"Home sweet home." The demon sighs before walking up the porch stairs. He walks in, the inside completely dark at first before he steps through the threshold. Like magic, light filled the home. And once again, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, shadows retreating into darkness wherever they could find it.

"Now, let's get you patched up." The demon says as he heads up the stairs. He brings me to his bedroom and sets me carefully on the surprisingly soft and comfortable bed.

I tried to keep still, as not to irritate my wing any further. But nothing could ease the pain, I winced and hissed out sharply as another throb jolted my wing. I could have started crying again it hurt so bad. The demon took note of that before moving to my left. I watched him carefully, wary of what he would do next. He said he would patch me up, while that confused me, I still didn't trust his word.

"This might hurt. But do try to keep still." He says before moving his hand over the broken bone. I move away fearfully, a foolish thing to do. I cried as more pain shot up my wing and back. "What did I just say?" The demon sighed.

"What are you going to do?" I ask sharply. He didn't have anything that could properly set the bone, nothing to ease my pain. Did he intend to force it back? "I'm going to heal it. But I need you to sit. Still." The demon said sternly. Still noticing my hesitation, he rolled his eyes. "I will try to make this less painful as possible. Now, are you going to do as I say? Or are you going to just sit there, still in pain?"

I sighed heavily before doing as I was told. I shut my eyes tightly after I watch him move his hand back. Suddenly I felt a shift in my wing joint, but no pain followed as I had expected. After a moment or two, Alastor moved his hand away.

"There we go. All better." The demon says softly. While I felt no pain, I never felt more light headed. My stress finally caught with me and felt I just might actually pass out. My body began to fall forwards, but the demon caught me before I could fall completely. I go limp in his arms, my eyes lids drooping. I heard him chuckle before I felt him moving my body, he gently laid me on my back.

I look up at him with tired eyes, his grin remained the same. I got the feeling he was enjoying this, it made me more sick to think about it. "Try and relax. I'll work on your legs next." He tells you as he moves his hand down to hover over them. I then heard him laugh, before I could question him he spoke.

"My, how rude of me. I've yet to introduce myself. I suppose I've gotten use to everyone knowing who I am, that it slipped my mind." The demon glances at me, he spoke his name with the most charming of tones.

"My name is Alastor."

Alastor? It was such a nice sounding name for a demon. "And who do I have the pleasure of knowing?" I took a shaky breath before answering with a shaky and cracked voice. "Y/n." Alastor's grin soften for a moment as he spoke my name. "Y/n. What a lovely name."

It felt strange to hear a demon speaking my name. It felt wrong. Though, it wasn't any worse than actually making a deal with him. I close my eyes, and begged god for forgiveness. I hope god could forgive me for what I've done.

I only do this to return to god's light. That's all. Please...please understand. The more I thought about that deal, the worse I felt. I didn't want to think about it, but it would always be there. In the back of my mind, will forever be the guilt of my choice.

And I could only hope that whatever this deal would entail, wouldn't be as bad as I fear it would be.

[hellenhighwater]

Ooh, The Last Sequoia you're working on is really evocative for me. Part of my work two summers ago was helping with fuels reduction in a seqouia grove. 5 years after a hot fire killed more than half that grove. And months after the grove 10 miles away was saved from a big fire due to fuels reduction efforts the year before. I'm applying for a Masters program where I might be working on forest fire ecology... This is just to say that your painting isn't even done and it's making me Feel Things.

Thank you! I was thinking about this particular poem when I was working on it, it's stuck with me for years.

They will soon be down

To one, but he still will be For a little while    still will be stopping

The flakes in the air with a look, Surrounding himself with the silence Of whitening snarls. Let him eat The last red meal of the condemned

To extinction, tearing the guts

From an elk. Yet that is not enough For me. I would have him eat

The heart, and from it, have an idea Stream into his gnarling head That he no longer has a thing To lose, and so can walk

Out into the open, in the full

Pale of the sub-Arctic sun Where a single spruce tree is dying

Higher and higher. Let him climb it With all his meanness and strength. Lord, we have come to the end Of this kind of vision of heaven,

As the sky breaks open

Its fans around him and shimmers And into its northern gates he rises

Snarling    complete    in the joy of a weasel With an elk’s horned heart in his stomach Looking straight into the eternal Blue, where he hauls his kind. I would have it all

My way: at the top of that tree I place

The New World’s last eagle Hunched in mangy feathers    giving

Up on the theory of flight. Dear God of the wildness of poetry, let them mate To the death in the rotten branches, Let the tree sway and burst into flame

And mingle them, crackling with feathers,

In crownfire. Let something come Of it    something gigantic    legendary

Rise beyond reason over hills Of ice    screaming    that it cannot die, That it has come back, this time On wings, and will spare no earthly thing:

That it will hover, made purely of northern

Lights, at dusk    and fall On men building roads: will perch

On the moose’s horn like a falcon Riding into battle    into holy war against Screaming railroad crews: will pull Whole traplines like fibres from the snow

In the long-jawed night of fur trappers.

But, small, filthy, unwinged, You will soon be crouching

Alone, with maybe some dim racial notion Of being the last, but none of how much Your unnoticed going will mean: How much the timid poem needs

The mindless explosion of your rage,

The glutton’s internal fire    the elk’s Heart in the belly, sprouting wings,

The pact of the “blind swallowing Thing,” with himself, to eat The world, and not to be driven off it Until it is gone, even if it takes

Forever. I take you as you are

And make of you what I will, Skunk-bear, carcajou, bloodthirsty

Non-survivor.

Lord, let me die    but not die

Out.

James Dickey, “For the Last Wolverine” from The Whole Motion: Collected Poems 1945-1992.