#the artist is an amazing felt and silk artist

[badassindistress]

Silk shawl by art.towear

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.

A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 2655

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two

Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.

Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.

The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.

Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.

“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.

“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.

“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.

“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.

“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.

“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.

“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.

“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.

“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.

“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.

“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.

Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.

“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.

“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”

“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.

As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.

The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.

The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.

“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.

“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.

“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.

“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.

On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.

On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.

In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.

Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.

“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.

“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.

“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.

“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.

“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.

“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.

“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.

“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.

“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.

“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.

“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.

“Well~ this should be fun.”

[mistydeyes]

hiiiii I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!!!!!! Can you please do 141 with a model reader who does Chanel,Versace etc and she gets an invite to do Victoria’s Secret runway and they see her down the runway how would they react

she’s not any model shes and icon,sex symbol,brains,she is the moment

big inspo for me ( I want to become a model)

AHHH I LOVE THIS! anon i feel you tho, every time i look on pinterest i just want to be a model! thank you for requesting <3

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summary: The 141 has always had an odd connection of friends, allies, and connections. However, they can't deny that they don't enjoy your luxurious life as a model and the perks that come along with attending one of your shows.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

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A series of events in Milan allowed the 141 to cross paths with you. Staying in a lavish French penthouse was far from what they had expected on a mission dictated by Laswell but her connections with your retired INTERPOL mother had brought them the extravagance of your home and lifestyle. Laswell had to threaten to have their court marshaled if they delayed their arrival home any longer. You thought of that brief moment in summer fondly as you left Gaz a voicemail. "I have a runway in New York coming up, let me know if you'll be on leave," you spoke on the phone, examining your manicured nails, "accommodations and champagne are on me." 

"This is nice," Price said, dropping his duffle onto the marbled tile of their hotel room. "Are you kidding, Cap?" Gaz said as he opened every door into the massive suite, "This is fucking amazing." When they got off the plane at JFK, they had not expected a private driver who brought them to the ornate hotel. The room itself had four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms filled with the best amenities. Soap had taken the opportunity to run over and open a bottle of champagne while Ghost pilfered the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. While the men explored the vast rooms and fought over the beds, there was a knock at the door. Price opened it to reveal a well-dressed bell-hop boy, holding a tray with an envelope. "Four tickets sent by one of the models," he spoke and Price handled the black envelope with embossed pink lettering. "Hell of invitation," he muttered before he looked at the runway time and shared the details with his team. "Wonder what she'll be wearing," Soap mused as he turned to take over one of the bathrooms.

Behind the stage, there was organized chaos with models running around in their silk robes in between the stations. The chatter roared as they chatted with the various hair stylists and makeup artists. "First VS show?" your makeup artist asked as she applied glitter delicately to your primed lids. "Yes, but not my first modeling gig," you smiled as you felt the pressure on your closed eyes, "Versace was beyond a mess compared to this." The artist laughed as she continued to prep your look. You could see mixes of pink and gold applied to your lips and the apples of your cheeks. "We think an olive green liner would look stunning on you," she said before holding a green eyeliner pencil in hand. You nodded in response as you shifted a bit in your robe. You gently closed your eyes again as you envisioned your latest outfit for the night.

Weeks prior you had visited the city to see your outfit for the night. A sage green bra and panty set decorated with pink and glittery flowers to resemble a meadow. Your wings were made of a delicate rose pink chiffon that was reminiscent of a fairy. "Do you like?" the designer asked as you walked around the stand and examined every stitch and detail. You smiled as you nodded happily, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. "Any particular inspiration?" you questioned as you made sure to feel the weight of the wings. "The newest line of Victoria's Secret," she spoke dreamily, "the delicacy of nature."

With your makeup and hair done, you walked over to change and receive the final touches from the design team. The group walked rapidly around your figure, assuring every detail would shine when the lights hit your walk. "Have anyone special here tonight?" one of the designers asked as he cut a few loose stitches. "Just a few friends from Europe," you spoke, hoping you didn't sound too entitled. You wanted to talk more but your odd friendship with a small special forces group would definitely reach some tabloids. "You look perfect darling," another designer spoke and you nodded before beginning to walk in your heels. "You can mingle with the others. Your collection is after the classics set," she reminded. You took a deep breath and made some facetious conversation with the other women. They were in awe at your previous shows but you just simply talked as if each was a mediocre experience. "Alright ladies, walk begins in five," a voice called over the comms and you lined up accordingly. As you watched the excited group in front of you, you wondered what you would treat the 141 to for dinner. You were sure if someone knew this is what you thought of before a show, they would laugh.

"Move up, Y/N," the stage manager directed, pulling you out of your food-related musings, "almost time for you to go on." You moved forward, getting into the comfort of your model walk you had done so many times before. You took a deep breath as you heard the live music stream through the curtains and the ethereal light peek through. You looked down at your attire one last time before the model ahead of you returned and it was your turn to awe the show. "Go, go, go," you could hear the stage manager command as the bright lights and menagerie of faces met your gaze.

"I think this is her!" Gaz commented, leaning forward in his chair. "You've been saying that for the past four models," Ghost corrected before he turned to see who was coming out next. As the men directed their gaze to the stage, you confidently strutted onto the platform. They were glued to your figure, perfectly accentuated by the flirtatious lingerie set. The details were delicate and encapsulated your aura. "Fuck." Soap whispered under his breath as the glitter and flower additions to your ensemble shimmered underneath the light. Your wings bounced and looked like they flittered in the air as you made your way in front of the watching crowd. "She's a natural at this," Price commented as he watched the way you walked in a straight line with an air of elegance in each step. He also couldn't deny the way you shined on stage and how the cameras clicked in rapid succession. As you reached the end of the runway, you took an opportunity to look over at the seats you had picked for the 141. You gave a small wink before blowing a kiss in their direction. 

Upon your exiting, there was a clamor amongst the group as to who the kiss was directed to. Primarily, Soap and Gaz were at odds thinking you made eye contact with them as you puckered your glossed lips. Price attempted to put a stop to them before Ghost spoke up. "I'm sure that was for me," he spoke quietly, leaving everyone to shelf the conversation and bring it up later over dinner.

[sanakimohara]

This is my second ever ask in my 10 years of having Tumblr so please let me know if I’m saying this wrong or if this is rude 😅 but please could you do a felix or chan incredibly insanely darkly jealous a lot of breeding kink and rutting and c8ck dumb reader 😮‍💨😅😅 pretty please

“UNDER THE INFLUENCE” L. F.

Awe well I am honored to be your second ask here on tumble. I think I'll take Felix on this one...give him a bit more love in my post stream..

{ MDNI }

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Today was not supposed to end like this. You had no intention of being in a room alone with him -especially while you both were ‘working’- but here you are. Trembling and writhing as Felix had his fill of you.

It was a miracle that your makeup wasn’t smudged; thankfully, your hair wasn’t too messed up from its original wet and wavy look. No matter how many times Felix ran his fingers through it or if you pressed your head against the thin walls as shrouds of ecstasy hit you, it stayed modestly neat.

One less giveaway of what the two of you were getting up to in his dressing room.

“Felix…F-Felix th-that’s enough….Ahm!” You groan as quietly as possible, trying hard to not let anyone outside the room hear how amazing it feels to have your cunt devoured like there was no tomorrow. The blonde completely ignored your demand, swirling his tongue in quicker circles around your clit before delving into your dripping entrance.

He’d been at it for the past ten minutes at least, never letting you pull your hips away from his oddly rough grip, keeping your legs wide open as you sat on the -previously organized- makeup vanity. You felt terrible about doing such inappropriate things with a man you swore you’d never met all day.

All fucking day.

You’d refused to admit that Felix was your significant other to make the photo shoot between you and a male model less awkward. A small sacrifice you were both used to driving to keep your relationship concealed and stable, but for one reason or another, Felix felt a simmering rage when he heard you deny your ties to them.

He hated it so much that he’d been less approachable and friendly for the better part of the day.

The staff noticed Felix’s change, whispering about how on edge he was on and off camera-cordial to everyone like always- but noticeably annoyed. You’d seen it too, very concerned he wasn’t feeling well and convinced just checking on him during the staff hour-long lunch break wouldn’t do any harm to anyone.

Everyone except you.

Felix was not above taking his growing frustrations out on you. The instant you shut his dressing room door, he’d covered you, hands preemptively inching the bodice of your silk skirt to touch your bare skin underneath as he placed one fiery kiss on your lips after another. “Stop letting him touch what’s mine, angel,” he whispers into your parted lips, drinking in the immediate whimpers you let out in return.

“You can’t be serious, Lix. More than half of the shoot requires us to “

He rolled his eyes, smirking in disbelief at your attempt to reason with him, “Does it look like I fucking care. Either keep his hands off you, or I’ll ensure it myself.” The rare sight of anger adorned Felix’s gentle features, voice a rumbling whisper, and the combination propelled you into subspace within seconds. He was never this openly possessive. He’d pout or sulk if you didn’t give him attention occasionally, but this…

This was new.

It made you nervous under his gaze, rendering you speechless as he hugged you close, lips reconnecting to your own in another sequence of tender kisses as he walked you backward into the vanity. Your exposed back hit the mirror with a soft ‘thud’ and you flinched away from it. Felix brought you close to him, letting his warmth resolve your shivering and trailing his hands over the intricate details of your artistic bralette.

You pulled away, smiling proudly as Felix took a moment to admire your decorated breasts, eyes darkening with desire as you leaned back with a knowing smile on your face. “Like what you see, Liz?” You tease him, giggling softly as you turn your head to look at him through the reflection. He nods slowly, tongue poking one of his cheeks as he snakes an arm around your waist, closing the tiny gap between you two and effectively spreading your legs to frame his waist.

“You know I do, angel. Always will…” he mutters adoringly, placing a trail of heated kisses along your neck, shoulder, and finally, the curve of your breasts. He groaned in displeasure as he realized the material was intricately clasped, making it a hassle to remove and one less place on your body for him to play with.

Felix solves the dilemma quickly, licking a long stripe over each one before nipping at your skin until barely visible bruises are raised on your skin. Your face burned hot, lust seeping to panic as he marked what he knew to be his, and though it felt amazing, you knew he was inching you both towards exposure.

“Lix, please don’t…they’ll see those…mm,” you bit back a moan as he made another affliction, purposefully making it noticeable. You flinched against him, hands flying to claw into his shoulders, “That’s enough…” you moaned into his ear. The demand lost its edge as it slipped off your tongue, concern becoming a blur as Felix tangled a hand in your hair, pulling it so you had no choice but to let him stain your skin with as many love bites as he pleased.

Your brows knitted together as each one became more intense than the last, the arm around your waist holding you flush against him, adding to the mind-numbing pleasure he was inducing.

You tried one last time to reason with him, stuck in thralls of heat and logical thinking, “Felix…th-“

He cut you off immediately, devoid of any sympathy for your plight, and his authoritative tone made that abundantly clear.

“I don’t care,” he retorts, and you whine in response, “..But I do.”

Felix laughed dryly, inwardly amused by your signature pout but unsympathetic with your reasoning. “You shouldn’t,” he replies softly, bringing his hands to caress your face. You stared up at him lovingly, leering into his touch as he pecked your lips, the subtle hums of approval thundering in his chest, building the pool of heat in your core.

“I know, Lix….” You murmur into the kiss, feeling his hands drop to your thighs, giving them light-handed squeezes. You subconsciously roll your hips to get his touch closer to your dripping cunt. He smiles against your lips, chuckling at your eagerness and immediately giving in to you.

“Desperate little angel, aren’t we?” He teased you, discreetly slipping the many rings off his fingers as you nodded your head and let out a breathless “mhm” in response. Felix shifted your silky skirt to the side, draping the fabric off of your legs as he cupped your mound with one hand. He bit his plush bottom lip as your hips bucked into his hold. A sheer thong was the only thing keeping your soaked folds away from him, and he remedied the obstacle by pulling it to the side.

“Fuck…” you hiss as the cool air hits your exposed cunt, slick going ice cold as Felix prodded to skilled fingers past your entrance. “It’s a miracle you don’t have cum running down your leg, love. It must be so hard walking around this wet for me, yeah?” His voice carried so much weight, doubling down on your own pleasure as he fingered you at the slowest pace possible.

You were at a loss for words, thoughts, or any coherent reaction as he curled his fingers forward to hit your sweet spot. Felix wanted a verbal answer, not just the satisfying gratification your moans brought him, “Need to hear you, angel..or I’ll stop.” You shake your head in displeasure, blushing heavily as you rush a reply, words slurring into excited whimpers.

“Y-yes…s-Ahm….fuck Lix…y-yes you’re right….”

“Good girl…” he whispers, pumping his fingers faster and pressing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You yelp quietly, whining curses as a familiar tightening ramped up in your stomach, and you clenched around his fingers as a result.

Felix groaned vicariously, smirking wildly before withdrawing his hand. “N-no! Lix, please!” You nearly shout in agony at the loss of fullness, ready to cry as he drops to his knees, faking a frown as he comes face to face with your glittering core. “You’re being awfully loud for someone who doesn’t want to get caught, love.” His warm breath fans the slick entrance as he speaks, putting you in a daze that intensifies when he flicks his tongue against you.

“Don’t care anymore…jus’ wanna cum,” you mewl as he focuses on the task at hand, finding the rhythm to taste you with his tongue perfectly and urging you to cum in his mouth with every deliberate action.

His blonde hair tickled your thighs, low moans sending vibrations through you in waves and heightening the toll your climax took on you.

Felix refused to stop until your cunt was all he’d be able to savor for the rest of the day. You nearly fell forward on him in a state of elated exhaustion as he stood back up and kissed you deeply. Your eyes slid shut as the creaminess of your release and his spit seeped down your throat, a wanton moan spilling from you both as his tongue danced with yours, and your hands traveled up to grip his hair.

“Careful…” he grunts, the sound giving way to an altered whine. You pull the blonde strands harder, lips connecting to his jawline and making your own mark on his tan skin. He reaches for his belt, glad his outfit wasn’t nearly as complicated as your own, and a sigh of relief comes out as a sharp exhale through his nose the moment his cock springs free.

You smile against his skin, eyes trailing down to get a view of it, “You’re such a hypocrite,” you taunt him. Amused to see how affected Felix was by the mere thought of another man laying his hands on you.

He groans, muttering a semblance of disagreeable words before shoving you back with gentle force. The conjoined feeling of the cold mirror hitting your heated skin and the instantaneous contact of his throbbing shaft gliding up and down your glittery folds has your back arching as ripples of pleasure course through you.

Felix drops his head to the crook of your neck, a few strands of his hair ghosting your skin as he places featherlight kisses. “Lix..” you mumble lowly, unable to think straight as he breathes in your scent, his hands grazing down your spine as he does.

“Promise me he won’t touch you again,” he whispers in your ear, his hips pausing, the tip of his cock inching into you ever so slightly. You whined loudly, head lulling back as your brows furrowed in frustration, one hand slipping from his tousled hair to clasp around his throat. Every breath he took raised his Adam’s apple, your thumb gingerly baring down the muscle as you shook your head slowly.

“I can’t..please don’t make me,” you plead for a compromise, but Felix disregards the refusal, pushing into your cunt inch by inch, torturing the both of you with the long-awaited security your fluttering walls would impose on him. “Yes, yes you can…you will. Promise me, sweetheart. Open your pretty mouth and swear to me that you’re all mine..” Felix shifted between pleading and demanding, eyes flickering from your expression of pure ecstasy as he sunk all the way into you to the space where you two connected.

A train of thought no longer existed for you as he pulled out slowly, slamming back so harshly that the vanity quivered from the subtle force. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolling in earnest bewilderment the rougher Felix got. “Fucking answer me…,” he groans, burying his cock in you, and refusing to move until you stuttered out a response.

Work be dammed. Telling some random guy to keep his hands to himself for the next few hours paled in comparison to your need to cum….and was honestly a task you’d do whether Felix was coercing it out of you or not.

So, as much as you cared for professionalism…it’d have to take a backseat to whatever emotion he was dragging you into now.

“I. I promise it won’t happen again…I promise, Lix…” You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, past the point of modesty and clinging to Felix for dear life as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. Your chest pressed into his, the intricate details on your bra chilling his burning skin and prompting him to hold you there with an arm snaking around your waist.

He fisted the sheer material of your skirt, almost ripping through it as he tugged it higher, nails digging into your skin possessively, and you winced in pain as he brought his lips to your ear again. “Hm, does it hurt, angel?” He asks, feigning concern, and the contrast of the sweet gesture amid brutality made your head spin endlessly. “Y-yes,” you huffed as a moan built in your throat, quickly slipping out as he shifted one of your legs up and around his lean waist. The adjusted angle drew a surprised cry from you, cunt gripping every ride and vein of his cock as he took advantage of the position. He was bruising your sweet spot with an intensity and speed you’d never experienced before.

Felix was generally endearingly romantic and rarely this aggressive with you. Seeing, well, witnessing this side of his character was an edge for you on its own.

You were surprised that you managed to hold out this long without cumming and even more taken aback by the steady stream of arousal pooling on the vanity beneath you. Felix noticed it too, cock twitching inside you as pride flooded his system, “You’re making such a mess, pretty girl… does it feel that good?” He grinned triumphantly when you nodded without hesitation, hips rolling to meet his thrusts at an even pace for as long as possible.

“Gorgeous, so…fucking gorgeous..” he praises your every reaction, running a hand down the expanse of your torso, stopping to press down where you could feel his cock the most. You blushed as the applied pressure emphasized exactly where Felix was inside you.

The coil in your core teetered on the verge of snapping, your hands disappearing underneath the hem of his designer dress shirt, and your manicured nails scratched into his toned torso. The simple action caused Felix to buck his hips and wrap his free hand in your hair as he brought you into an open-mouthed kiss. It was sloppy, void of any decency, as the both of you chased your high at the expense of the other.

You clawed at his skin, moaning louder as the knot in your stomach begged to loosen for the third time in a row. He stared into your dreamy gaze, reading the warning in them as he held your head close to his.

Felix wanted nothing more than to etch this very moment into your mind for the rest of the day -your life. The thought of you walking around, filled to the brim with his cum as you posed for one picture after the next plagued his conscious, and undid the last link of reason for him.

“Fuck this,” he snapped, brows furrowing with determination as he pulled out of you, and slid you off the vanity to bend you forward on it instead. Thankfully, you caught yourself in time, too dazed to stop him from kicking your legs apart, and reentering you from behind. “Felix…” you groan exasperatedly, shuddering as his cock stretched your cunt with ease, causing a thin drip arousal to slide down your inner thighs.

The blonde leaned over you, a hand resting on the curve of your back as he returned to his pace from earlier. Sweat starts to build on his tan skin, a concentrated expression adorning his angelic features as he pounded into you.

Blank.

Your mind was entirely blank the longer he bullied his cock against your sensitive womb and the tension mounting in your body multiples exponentially as he lowered himself to speak in your ear lowly.

“This is where you belong, angel. Just like this, with me, an no one else understand?”

You nodded weakly, fighting back tears as the urge to cum from the sound of his voice tempted you.

It’d only take one more possessive word from him -paired with that salacious smile on his face- to unravel you. Felix was at his end, too, eyes sliding close as the precision of his thirst became a tenuous blur.

“You think he’d use you this well, love?” He slurs the question, unintentionally pulling your hair as he snaps his hips harder. “No…”you sigh deliriously, reaching a hand to run through his hair and bring him in for a heated kiss, while the other latched against the mirror to hold you steady under his weight as the knot in your core spiraled loose.

“That’s it….angel, fuck, you feel so good…” Felix doesn’t even try to be discreet, zoned in on the way your cunt gushes on his cock, greedily taking the hot ropes of cum he releases. Oxygen alludes to you for a few seconds, an overbearing heat rushing through you and your body quivering in the aftershock.

You looked divine. Unreal even. That pleased smile on your lips as you giggled shamelessly only added to the glow you emitted in your shared highs.

“He won’t touch me again, Lix..” you panted softly, smiling more expansive as you clung to him tiredly and laid your head on his shoulder.

He understood then. Why he’d felt so stricken with jealousy over you the whole day. Yes, he loved you, but the underlying notion that no one else knew it angered him.

What good would it do him not to try and claim you, at least? If fucking you into the bliss of oblivion was what needed to be done….he could make that sacrifice.

Felix kissed the top of your head, grinning as you whined defeatedly as he shifted his hips to settle his cock further into you, “See, that wasn’t so hard to agree to, now was it, love?”

You pout, raising your head to glare at him playfully, “No….but now the stylists will have to cover me in two layers of foundation!”

Felix raised a brow, gently rolling his hips into again, and you melted underneath him at the overstimulation. “Who said we were done, angel?” He asks, smiling at your fucked out reflection shifting to a look of desperation. You opened your mouth to say something but the words died in your throat, replaced by a broken moan as he gradually pumped his length past your tender walls, spreading his cum over them, and edging you both to another round.

This was not how your day was supposed to go, but there was no fight left in you, and certainly not enough left to refuse being stuffed full with Felix’s cum for the next thirty minutes.

Felix chuckled at the sight of you accepting your fate, subconsciously rocking your hips back to meet his, and welcoming the oncoming warmth of his accumulating releases.

Maybe making him jealous could be your new favorite hobby….

++++++++

This one was fun. I'm kind of proud of how it came out too....my editing is getting better hehe.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Credits to owner 🖤 FYI if I met him and he made a joke I’d start laughing the same way zendaya was cracking up everytime Tom holland opened his mouth….i mean how else am I gonna convince Felix he’s my soulmate lmao 🖤

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Five: The Princess and the Queen

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Hello, besties! How about that finale... I wanted to thank everyone who has left lovely comments and support about the story. It really makes me smile. I hope I continue to write y'all a story you like as it progresses. Thanks again!

Chapter Warnings: mentions rape, trauma, and symptoms related to childhood SA, mentions self-harm, emotional abuse.

The halls of the Red Keep were a vast expanse filled with candelabras, torches, paintings, and tapestries. If it was night, one could pass by a person and not notice them. The tremendous shadows held many secrets, causing you only to venture alone if there was no choice. 

But in the day, with the help of the warm sun shining through archways and open windows, it was a magnificent sight. It made you feel deeply grateful and amazed that your ancestors built a place like this and stood the test of time with its beauty. 

A tapestry, in particular, caught your eyes as you walked the grand halls to your lessons with the old crone Septa Marlow. It was woven with the finest colored wool with shiny red, green, brown, and white silk threads, depicting a scene between men, women, and dragons. Studying it with furrowed brows, you felt perplexed as you tilted your head, trying to understand the story told through the fabric. It looked like the people were naked, enjoying a festive party filled with wine, smiles, and dragons that devoured each other, mouths of men, women, and beasts on bodies in odd places.

The artist showed one man with his head buried between a lady’s thighs and a dragon pressed closely behind him. Another was a woman and a dragon resting between her legs, leaning over the top of her with its pointed tongue touching her chest. The memory of what Aegon did to you on the ramparts that night came to the forefront of your mind, and it sent a hot, nauseating wave to your stomach and privy parts. It was such a bewildering piece of art that you never noticed until now, making you wonder if it had always been there and if there were more of them.

“Do you like it?” A voice asked beside you, causing you to release a shriek as you jumped out of your skin. 

As you tried to calm your nerves, Aegon suddenly stood beside you, touching your chest. Every fiber of your being told you to run. To scream, kick, or hurt your uncle after what he did, but instead, your body betrayed you, anxiety filling your shoes with rocks.

“Personally, it’s one of my favorites. It shows how our dragon blood came to be,” he continued, jutting his narrow hip to the side as he flicked his frizzy mane. 

You couldn’t think, breathe, or scratch at the prickling hair on your arms. You were mad—that is what you were feeling. You were upset because your uncle stole you from your thoughts and didn’t listen when you told him to stop. 

“You hurt me, Aegon!” The words echoed against the pale redstone as he flinched like you had struck him. He briefly stared at your scowl as you did with the tapestry, thin lips pursed as he tried wrapping his mind around what you could be referencing. 

“Oh! You mean the other night?” Aegon chortled and shrugged his hands in the pockets of his trousers as if this was the most basic of revelations. “Twas nothing, niece. You know it. We cuff each other about all the time and think nothing of it. This was no different.” 

Fire filled your veins at his passivity, digging your nails into your skin until they left crescents in their wake. “No, this was different. You hurt me, uncle. It still hurts there,” you confessed, attempting to keep your anger instead of the gradual wetness that itched your nose. 

Worry flashed in Aegon’s amethyst eyes as he fully faced you, taking a step closer as you took one back in return. He pretended not to feel the slight at your wordless rejection and held out a sinewy hand. This was how it always was when Aegon did something you didn’t like. You would pout for a few days until he begrudgingly apologized without the words, and then you and your brothers would tease Aemond. He believed this time would be no different.

“Come on,” he sighed with a slight roll of his eyes. “Let’s skip your lessons today and go to the Godswood. You can pick those pretty flowers you like. It’ll be like nothing ever happened,” your uncle offered with his typical lopsided grin.

The action startled you, causing your muscles to tense and your spine to go rigid as you hugged your stomach for comfort. Fear replaced any anger you felt at the notion that you would be alone with Aegon and have no one to help you if he didn’t listen to you again. Without knowing it, your skirt became damp, a dark spot slowly forming on the sky-blue fabric between your legs as you soiled yourself. 

Your face heated in shame as your uncle waited for your answer, too stunned by the involuntary action to think of running away when he abruptly noticed the liquid flowing into the cracks of the stone floor. He jumped away with a disgusted yelp like it would burn him if he touched it as you covered your eyes in embarrassment. Tears leaked from them, unable to stop the thick droplets as they ran down your cheeks like rivers and stained your sleeves. Your uncle would surely use this against you for the rest of your life.

This was all Aemond’s fault, Aegon thought. It’s not enough that he is their mother’s favorite. He had to take the one thing that was his—the only person who was solely at his side and his side only. Now, his being in his niece’s presence caused her to wet herself out of fright. He didn’t mean to hurt you. You both were having a bit of fun. The serving girls never seemed to act the way you were.

Aegon stared at you. Unsure of what to do and if you would still avoid his touch, he took another step forward, preventing the urine from touching his shoes, and reached out to extend tense words of comfort. 

“All is well, niece,” he awkwardly consoled and patted your shoulder like you would a rabid dog. “Tis nothing-”

“Princess!”

The title was screamed down from the end of the hall, interrupting your uncle and distracting you from your shame. Both you and Aegon turned to the commotion and saw Septa Marlow storming towards you at a speed faster than a woman her age should travel. You were severely late to your lessons, and per your mother’s orders, Marlow was allowed to search for and punish you as she saw fit for your misbehaviors. 

Releasing a defeated groan, you hung your head and mentally prepared for the tongue lashing you would receive from her and your mother later as she stood before you, huffing with her bony hands on the waist of her grey skirt. You attempted to hide the damp spot on your dress and covered it with your hands.

“Little Miss, I’ve been waiting for you in the lesson room for half an hour! Your mother told you what would happen if you skipped them again,” the old maid sighed exasperatedly, shaking her habit-covered head in disappointment. “You are a woman of the crown, and yet you toss your duties aside as if they are no more than rotten fruit. When will you learn?” 

Your eyes focused on the pool that glistened in the daylight as it reflected your face. A countenance puffy with tears and wet with snot, plump, moist lips pursed into a deep frown framed by a head of dark waves. At this angle, you could see the small patch of hair you plucked out of your scalp, the urge to touch it coming over you. You wondered if others could see it, too.

“Look me in the eyes when I’m speaking to you, Princess,” Marlow ordered with a strict tone. You gradually lifted your gaze to match hers, fighting back another onslaught of tears. 

You were tired of getting in trouble. You wanted to be the good girl your mother said you were, but it was hard. It seemed as if everything you did was wrong, and you began to believe you deserved harsher punishment because of your continued failure. The urge to feel the sting of hair pulled from its follicle was too strong. You needed to be alone, away from irate Septas and parents, and with your brothers or Aemond—people who understood your sadness and would listen to it.

Your Septa observed you with calculating eyes, flicking from the sorrowful arch of your brows to the downward bow of your lips to your stained skirt. You tried to obscure it more from her view, twisting your body to the side, but it was for naught as she pulled at your wrist, displaying your disgrace for all to see. Marlow’s gaze was piercing, trying to pull puzzle pieces together as she looked from you to Aegon. 

Without warning, she yanked you behind her by your arm, feeling as if she wanted to pull it from the socket and put her body between yours and your uncle’s. 

“What did you do?” she interrogated sharply, her thin lips becoming even thinner with her jaw set. Aegon stared at her, stunned, and you began to weep in horror. “What did you do to her?” 

The question sent chills down your limbs, making the hairs stand on end. What did he do to you? All you could comprehend was that Aegon hurt you with a part that was supposed to be covered, like when you would get into fights that developed into blows. You knew it was wrong, but how Marlow shielded you with her body like a soldier on the battlefield made you think it was more than what a simple scuffle would be.

Aegon stared at Septa Marlow, shocked. His mouth agape as he stuttered to explain, his hands gesturing when he couldn’t get the words out. “Nothing!” he shouted in defense and stepped back from the elderly woman. 

“Liar,” she staunchly declared as she grabbed your uncle by his ear, bringing him closer to her seething gaze.

“Unhand me wench! I am a prince!” He screeched like a kicked dog, yelping and hollering in astonishment. You never thought Septa Marlow was so hearty or bold enough to scream in the crown prince’s face, and it scared you to no end as you hid in the fabric of her scratchy wool dress.

“People respond to pain according to where they were hurt, my Prince,” she spat as you listened with surprise. 

Did she know?

Aegon was awful. He felt slighted and would upset everyone just because he was. You worried Marlow would get into trouble with the Queen for touching her son and tried to lead her away, but your little arms were useless as she spoke through gritted teeth. 

“She isn’t one of your toys you can use as you see fit. When Rhaenyra hears of what you’ve done to her daughter, you’re mother won’t be able to protect you.” 

With that, Septa Marlow released Aegon as he whined, rubbing the afflicted area like she had ripped his ear from his head. You didn’t want her to get reprimanded on behalf of defending you, so you tugged at her sleeve again, begging with your eyes for her to leave. 

“Please, Septa, I want to go to my lessons now,” you implored, the words hiccuped.

She faced you then as if she suddenly recalled your presence beside her and stroked a comforting hand down your loose hair, coming to cup your cheek with a tenderness she had never given you before. It startled you into silence. Anguish glistened in Marlow’s blue eyes, as light as the sapphire bedsheets you slept on every night as she took your balled fist into her cold one. 

“Let us get you cleaned first,” she kindly replied, disregarding Aegon as if he didn’t matter. 

Septa Marlow seemed almost mournful like she suddenly discovered that she had lost a loved one as she led you down the many halls to your chambers in silence.

Your ladies-in-waiting greeted you with startled expressions as they tended to their duties, surprised to see you and Septa Marlow at an odd time. The first one to bow was Edwina of House Karstark, the youngest of Lord Rolan Karstark and his Lady wife. She was a few years older than you and was stout, standing on tall, sturdy legs and hips. Her shoulders were broad underneath her crimson servant gown, which featured wide blue-gray eyes and long brown hair styled underneath her cap. 

“Princess,” she politely greeted with a curtsy as the others followed. 

Septa Marlow wasted no time ordering your ladies to draw you a bath, the women ceasing their actions as they hastily ran to the kitchens to gather hot water. Staring at the older woman with a wary expression, you played with your fingers as you felt the overwhelming fluttering sensation of nerves bubble in your stomach. You hadn’t bathed since before that night, and the idea of multiple people seeing you in a vulnerable state made you want to run away. This wasn’t something you had experienced before. 

Typically, you loved baths, even bathing with your brothers on occasion as you played with toys and the servants scrubbed your bodies, but now, it seemed as if an abrupt aversion deep within you spawned, and you were powerless to stop it.

The maids finished with their last pail of water, dumping it into the metal tub and sprinkling in slices of oranges and nectarines, which were your favorites. Yet you still looked at the steaming water with reluctance. You didn’t want to bathe. It would take too much time, and having your body bare, feeling the hands of people gripping, scrubbing your flesh, water sloshing… 

It was too much. 

“Come, princess, let’s undress,” Enith, another of your ladies from House Blackbar, kindly ordered you with a wave of her dainty hands. 

Without warning, you ran to your bed, resting on your knees as you shook your head vehemently. “No! I don’t want to take a bath. I want to go to my lessons with Septa Marlow!”

The women exchanged confused glances, multiple pairs of colored eyes waiting for the other to do something about your out-of-character disobedience. They knew something must be wrong. You were never one to tolerate having the slightest bit of dirt underneath your fingernails, and not only did you deny cleaning yourself despite being covered in urine, but you wanted to go to spend time with Septa Marlow. You despised your lessons. You would kick and scream until your voice gave out, saying you didn’t want to go. Now you were doing the same.

“Princess,” Marlow called her gaze disbelieving and holding a look of challenge. “You must bathe before you can be seen. Your skirt reeks of piss.” You comprehended her reasoning, but something inside you refused to listen as you shouted disagreements.

Your Septa, the boldest of the women, came forward to grab you, but you swiftly dodged her, sliding across your wrinkled sheets. She dealt with your mother before you and knew how to handle troublesome young girls, though the years weighed heavily on her parchment-thin skin and brittle bones, and she was unable to get a hold of you. 

“I don’t want to take a bath!” You shouted as Edwina took a step forward, attempting to help Marlow undress you. They managed to snatch your leg and remove your dress as you wiggled and squirmed in their grasp, the fabric catching on your ears.

You quickly scampered away after they let go and flung open the adjoining door to your brother’s room, running over each of the neatly made beds as Septa Marlow and your ladies chased you. Swiftly, you ran to the exit, attempting to run out and down the hall. To where they couldn’t find you but were hastily stopped by Enith in front of you.

“Get, Princess Rhaenyra,” Marlow ordered Enith as she and Edwina restrained you, kicking and screaming in their grasp. “What is wrong with you? Does this have something to do with Prince Aegon?” Marlow pointedly questioned, on the verge of coughing with exertion.

Refusing to answer, you continued to thrash against them. You didn’t want to hurt your Septa despite disliking her, but if she told your mother about Aegon being the cause of your accident and she started asking questions, you would have no choice but to tell her about that night. Perhaps you could try to lie and say your uncle startled you in the corridor, which is why you wet yourself. You prayed to the Gods that she would believe you.

What felt like hours of struggling against a girl a few years older than you and an ancient Septa was moments as your mother emerged, a startled, wide-eyed look on her face as she watched you bite Edwina’s dress sleeve. 

“Enough!” your mother shouted over your dispute, ceasing all three of you as you panted.

Without hesitation, you ripped your arms away from the women, stomping to your room and curling face-first into a maroon settee. They were powerless to stop you now that your mother was here. You could hear their mumblings through the wall as a new wave of tears crashed over you, burying your cries into the soft cushions. 

You were uncertain what the reason for your sobs was. It could be that you had just experienced a rush of emotions you weren’t ready to handle or the guilt of making your ladies and Septa Marlow chase you around your shared quarters like a mouse, yet you knew the real reason. You tried denying it briefly, but the conscience your mother instilled in you made you see the truth. 

You were terrified about what she would do if she discovered you snuck out with Aegon, drank stolen wine, and ate desserts from the kitchens when you were supposed to be asleep.

The door to Jace and Luke’s room clicked shut, and you briskly raised your head at the sound, seeing your mother. You swiftly buried your face back into the cushions as you heard the delicate tapping of her shoes come closer. She said nothing for a long moment, sitting beside you and rubbing a gentle hand in soothing circles on your back. 

Rhaenyra wasn’t upset with your behavior; she was more concerned than anything. Like Septa Marlow said, this was unlike you. Your nursemaids taught you how to use the privy, and you hadn’t wet the bed since you were four. For Seven’s sake, it was everything your mother could do to get you out of the tub! 

She knew something had happened, something terrible.

“Little love?” Rhaenyra tenderly spoke your name as she leaned closer. “Will you tell me the cause of this?” 

You merely sniffled in response, rendered into tearful silence. 

Rhaenyra gave you a pitying unseen smile and released a sigh through her nose. She hadn’t seen you this worked up since Aemond pushed you into the garden fountain, smacking your mouth against the stone and knocking out your front tooth. With the tooth, it was an easy fix. All she needed to do was explain that another would grow back since you were young. With this, she was unsure of the cause and did not know how to get the reason out of you. 

“I can see this is hurting you, and it pains me deeply. You must know that whatever transpired will never make me love you less,” your mother confessed, her free hand clasping yours. “Whatever has you feeling in such torment is far more harsh of a punishment than I could ever give you. I could not bear to do more.” 

Slowly, you removed your face from the pillow, turning to rest your plump cheek on it. “You won’t be mad at me if I tell you?” you asked with a childish softness to your voice. 

“You know that I won’t ever lie to you. I cannot guarantee I won’t be upset, but the inner torment you currently face suffices any consequence I could give you,” your mother replied honestly, sighing and scrunching her brows.

While the words didn’t make you feel better, you did feel a lightness in your soul. You fully faced her then, tearful eyes glistening in the natural light like polished mahogany obsidian. Hiccuping your breaths, you leaned on your mother’s shoulder as she wrapped her long arm around you, uncaring about the foul-smelling gown. 

“Aegon, he sn-snuck up on me while I went to my lessons. He scared me,” you explained, thoughts and memories all mumbled together as you began to twist your hair to soothe your nerves. 

“Is that all?” she inquired in disbelief. “Your uncle scared you, and that caused you to…” Your mother didn’t finish the thought before you shook your head, impulsively tugging at your dark locks. 

“No, Mama. It happened before then. A few-a few nights ago, Aegon left me a note underneath my pillow and said he had something to tell me. He told me to follow a secret passage and that he was waiting for me.” 

You saw the color drain from your mother’s face, her violet eyes widening in horror as she swallowed nervously. “We went into the kitchens and wine cellars, helping ourselves to food and drink. A scullery maid caught us, and then he took me outside to the battlements of the Holdfast. We sat, ate, and drank, and he told me about Queen Alicent’s plan to arrange a marriage between us.”

Your mother clenched her jaw, clutching your shoulder and forcing you to face her, gaze searching for something. “Is that all?” You swiftly nodded your head. “Nothing else happened? Your uncle didn’t take you anywhere? He didn’t touch you?”

You stared at her, confused, examining the delicate slope of her nose and the intensity of her eyes. “No. Aegon didn’t take me anywhere. We stayed in the castle,” you answered hastily, trying to appease her unrest. “But he did hurt me. That’s why I don’t want to bathe; it still hurts.”

“What do you mean? How did he hurt you?” The severity of her gaze didn’t lessen, her strong fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders as she said your name. 

“He put his privy part inside-” 

You were unable to complete your sentence as your mother suddenly let out a heart-wrenching cry, pulling you close to her chest as she sobbed. Her outburst took you aback, but instinctively wrapped your arms around her, trying to offer comfort.

“Tis alright, Mama. It’s like when I lost my front tooth,” you said calmly, but she shook her head. 

“No, no, it’s not. Aegon did something to you, something you are far too young to comprehend. Does Alicent’s bitterness for our youth blind her from decency and honor?” 

And with that, you learned what Aegon did to you. 

Rape. 

Your eldest uncle raped you before you knew the meaning of the word—before you inquired where children came from. The tapestry you saw in the hall made sense now, except they were experiencing pleasure while you experienced pain. Your mother told you that what Aegon did was something that should only happen between two people who understood the consequences of sex. 

Your uncle took advantage of your innocence and abused his power over you. He knew you would allow him to do whatever he wanted because you sought his approval like nothing else. 

Your mother told you she also experienced something similar with her Uncle Daemon when she was much older and comprehended what sex was. She recounted how he left a note for her that led to a passage in her chambers just like you did, though he led her out of the safety of the Red Keep to the Streets of Loom and Silk to see her people where he abandoned your mother. You decided then that you didn’t like your Great Uncle Daemon. 

“Did he…” Rhaenyra couldn’t finish her question, tears choking her. “Did he reach completion? Did his… his seed…” 

You stared at her in confusion, still grappling with all she had explained. “Aemond caught us and took me back to his room. I didn’t see any of his seed afterward,” you answered plainly as your mother grimaced at the words. “He hasn’t told anyone. He promised not to. We’ve spent time together reading, and I think he’s becoming my friend.” 

Rhaenyra wiped the water from her face and gave you a forced smile, her mouth wet as she bobbed in acknowledgment. 

“Wonderful. I’m happy for you. You’ve always been a kind girl,” she thickly said, swallowing the excess moisture and smoothing your loose strands of hair. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm? I can show you how so you don’t have to become bear with anyone you don’t want to.”

“But it’s going to hurt, mama,” you whined, tugging on her satin gray dress sleeve.

“I know, sweetheart, but you must,” she sighed, stroking you in a gesture of comfort for you or her; you didn’t know. “How about we bring Jace here? He’s due for a scrub.”

Rhaenyra would do anything to control this uncontrollable situation. 

Fidgeting with your hair nervously, you nodded in acquiescence, allowing her to undress and lower you into the water. The warm liquid burned you between your legs like you thought it would as you clawed at your mother’s arms, releasing whimpers with tensed muscles until you adjusted. She comforted you with sweet nothings until you calmed, kissing your forehead and calling for a servant to fetch your brother. 

Jace arrived begrudgingly moments later from his lessons and stripped himself bare. You couldn’t help how your gaze drifted below his waistline as you unwillingly compared it to the memory of Aegon’s. You wondered what it would look like, “aroused,” as your mother called it. It sent an unwelcomed yet not entirely unpleasant tickle into your stomach as he got in with a huff. 

As Rhaenyra declined the assistance of your attendants and Jace’s manservants in bathing her children, she deftly took the supplies from them and dismissed them with a swift gesture. Guiding you on scrubbing your body and washing your hair, she momentarily paused as she came upon the small patches of missing hair. A sense of anxiety gripped you as you felt her fingers inspecting the area, but to your relief, she made no comment and continued as if nothing occurred. 

You appreciated her kindness and understanding more than ever at that moment as Jace mischievously splashed you with soapy liquid, and a water fight between giggling siblings ensued.

The sun casts its faint glow from behind the gray clouds of King’s Landing, rays of light shining as if from the heavens above. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen stood atop her high balcony with her newborn in her sturdy arms, swaying him gently as she hummed a tune and looked over all the splendor the city offered. It was a land she would one day rule over and her children after her as she smiled at the sleeping bundle near her heart. 

The Princess loved her children dearly, especially the man she had them with. Despite having a name that would strike fear into his foes, he had a gentle heart. She felt her allies severely dwindle when he left. In a place Rhaenyra called home, she began to feel like an outcast. Suppose Alicent’s elaborate charade of parading a newborn child and its mother around the Red Keep was any say. The lengths her old friend would go to humiliate Rhaenyra were limitless. 

She recalled balking at her husband Laenor abandoning his post at the Red Keep to escape the rumors of the court and martial unhappiness to fight in the Stepstones with his father. But as time passed, the idea of leaving became more and more reasonable to Rhaenyra. On the chance that she would leave her home, it would not be for her, but for her children, for her only daughter whose innocence was taken before she knew what it was. It made her ill to understand that a child who was far too young to wonder where children came from would experience such depravity. 

Now more than ever, Rhaenyra questioned her children’s safety.

The Princess didn’t care about the concept of purity in this situation. No one knew what occurred other than the two involved, her and Aemond. If word happened to get out, she would fight for her daughter’s name. She was sure her half-brothers would not tell anyone, as it would be death to Alicent’s and her family’s pious image. It was mutually assured destruction. 

The door to Rhaenyra’s bed chambers opened, and a guard bowed and announced the unexpected visitor. She didn’t invite anyone. At the thought, her heart began to race, and she worried it could have something to do with you as she put Joffrey down. 

“Queen Alicent of House Hightower,” he boomed, bowing his helmeted head as the woman entered. 

Rhaenyra had half a mind to send her away. How dare she come into her quarters after everything that happened? After decades of torment and snide comments, she approaches her old friend with an air of ignorant, entitled kindness. 

“My Queen,” Rhaenyra acknowledged, refusing to extend a bow as she clasped her hand behind her back. “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

Alicent smiled briefly, encircling her fingers over her olive and gold waist as she stepped closer. The pointed star of the Seven glistened around her dainty neck. She swallowed as the Princess studied her with calculating eyes, sensing an unusual aura of hostility.

“Excuse my intrusion, Princess. I needed to speak to you. I know that we’ve had our share of differences as of late,” she began with a deep breath, wringing her digits, “but I believe that we agree on the decency of the realm and the future of our Houses.” 

Rhaenyra raised a manicured brow at the woman before her, and her peony lips curled into a snarl of disgust. She knew the next words that would undoubtedly follow.

“I know you are not blind to the rumors about the plainness of your children-”

“Vile accusations fueled by those lusting for my ruination,” the Princess interrupted, standing behind the golden-colored settee that separated her from the Queen.

Alicent sighed and pursed her lips, refusing to admit her part in the gossip. She knew it was fact, but that didn’t matter now. She could sense a change in the air, could feel the future in which her light slipped away into the darkness. It was a desperate proposition, seeing as Rhaenyra had already made one. 

“I recall in the days prior that you proposed a marriage between your son Jace and my only daughter Helaena. I wish to offer a compromise, your eldest daughter and my eldest son. They would make a fine match. No one would seek to undermine your inheritance if our Houses were united if we allied ourselves,” she rushed, worried that Rhaenyra would interrupt her like before and spoil her dream. 

She desperately wanted to call you her own, to turn things into how they were meant to be. Alicent itched to tear at the skin of her nails as the Princess stewed in the silence. 

Rhaenyra was insulted at Alicent’s desperation and audacity in countering a marriage alliance that her father told her she vehemently refused. One didn’t do these things. Alicent, the woman who spouted about decency and propriety, dared propose a marriage after the atrocity her son committed before the eyes of the Gods.

A scornful laugh erupted in Rhaenyra’s chest as she traced the wooden engravings of the furniture. “Do you truly think me so desperate?” she challenged bitterly, shaking her loosely tied hair. “You approached my negotiations with such repugnance, and now you come asking me if I will sell my only daughter to that wastrel you call a son. No. You’ve already taken too much.” 

Hurt and confusion laced the wrinkles of Alicent’s face, her doe eyes wide with a helplessness Rhaenyra hadn’t seen since they were girls. She felt as if the Queen pierced her heart with her amber orbs, but she swiftly pushed it aside as she recalled the swollen patches of missing hair on your scalp. Distress was not the expectation Rhaenyra had in mind when she denied Alicent, and it briefly perplexed her before the realization dawned. 

“You don’t know,” she enunciated more to herself than the woman in the room. “Of course, he wouldn’t tell you, but why not Aemond?” 

The Queen became distressed at Rhaenyra’s ambiguity and finally began to pull at her cuticles, attempting to distract her from the anxiety and turn it into pain. She wanted to ask what Aemond and Aegon didn’t tell her, but the words stuck in her parched throat.

Rhaenyra let out a sharp breath through her nose as she walked around an armchair and became face-to-face with her forgotten friend. A sense of superiority came over the Princess at finally having the upper hand after years of pining for Alicent’s kindness. At the moment, she had no desire to end the strife between them. 

“Aegon stole my daughter into the night and led her to the ramparts of the Holdfast, where he raped her,” Rhaenyra described with a pointed fury. “Do you know what it’s like to hear your child cry in your arms because someone debased her? She didn’t know the name of what happened to her.” 

Gasping in horror, Alicent covered her lips in shock, bracing one hand on her stomach as if she would vomit. Her son, her firstborn, the child that she loved dearly but also doomed her to eternal suffering, had raped his young niece. Aegon raped the Gods’ Light. If anyone got word of the atrocity committed on the small folk’s favorite Princess, the realm would turn on House Hightower. No one would support Aegon’s claim despite him being a son.

“Who else knows of this?” Alicent hastily asked, her face pale with fear. A small, desperate part of her still wished to continue with the proposal. Maidens were forced into unhappy marriages as a part of life, and this one would be no different. 

With a dismissive snort, Rhaenyra pivoted away from the Queen and strode back to Joffrey’s cradle. It was no shock to her that the Queen had made such a request. Her preoccupation with appearances and how she was perceived always seemed to overshadow genuine empathy, a characteristic that she appeared to have inherited from her father.

“Aemond, and now, you,” Rhaenyra answered as she stroked the button nose of her newborn. “That is the boy you want my child to wed. Her rapist. What do you think my father would do should he find out?” 

Alicent inhaled sharply, nerves winding themselves into a ball as blood trickled into her nail beds. “There is no need to get the King involved. His health is far too precarious. I shall see to it.” 

The Princess stood in the dimly lit chamber, her emotions simmering beneath the surface as she gazed down at Joffrey, nestled amidst the soft white linens that cradled him. It was nearly time for his feeding, and she didn’t want to continue discussing with the wetnurse present, knowing that any whispers or speculation about her daughter would spread like fleas.

“Good. Out of our shared blood, I will spare Aegon from his fate at the Wall. Know that I will be the one to decide where my daughter’s hand goes. You may take your leave,” Rhaenyra dismissed with a flick. 

Alicent stood frozen in place, her wide brown eyes shimmering with tears as her hand instinctively reached for the delicate Seven-Pointed Star pendant resting at the base of her neck. This object symbolized her unwavering devotion to Faith, virtue, and sacred things. However, in this moment of distress, it felt as though the points of the star were searing into her flesh, cutting into her tender palm like a mark of condemnation. The Queen’s fury, initially directed inward at herself for the perceived failure of raising a son she deemed unworthy, swiftly turned towards her eldest child. 

One thing remained unanswered as Alicent swallowed the lump in her throat, inhaling a deep breath before the question came from her plump lips. 

“How does Aemond know? Did he…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, choked at the idea that both her sons were the wickedest men. 

Rhaenyra shook her head scornfully, sneered, and took Joffrey into her arms, refraining from the bitter laugh that threatened to erupt. “He stopped Aegon from reaching completion inside her, but there was no point. He’d already damaged my daughter beyond comprehension. She wets herself at the sight of him and refuses to bathe without her brother.” 

The Princess’s gaze traveled to the floor, a scowl on her face. The recollection of you whimpering as you lowered into the tub played in her mind’s eye. She sat on the lavish settee that separated her from the Queen, exhausted, the effort of standing still too precarious after her labors. 

“That is your decency,” Rhaenyra jeered as Alicent stood with her back ramrod straight. 

The wetnurse entered the Princess’s chambers before she could respond, wordlessly understanding that this was not a subject to discuss in front of the staff.

The act of Aegon fraternizing with maids and indulging in excess was already troubling, but he deliberately destroyed one of the few things that brought Alicent joy. It felt like a personal attack. He shattered your innocence and the light that used to brighten Alicent’s dreams. Although conflicted about the fact that it was her son who committed this act, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of rage inside her, causing her to drop her arms to her sides swiftly.

Sins such as these will not go unpunished, she thought.

“I thank you for your time, Princess. I will see that the matter is duly handled.” With a heavy heart, the Queen bid farewell to her old friend, lingering momentarily at the chambers’ door before leaving. Little did she know that it would be many years before she would set foot in that place again.

As Rhaenyra observed the Green Queen’s departure, her auburn locks cascading gracefully with each subtle movement of her hips, she resolved to assume dominion over Dragonstone. Despite the perils of her leaving, her children’s safety took precedence over her own. The Red Keep was no longer a secure place for any of them. 

Alicent waited until twilight blanketed the castle as she tentatively nursed a goblet of wine, candles flickering in the darkness. She rarely indulged in this vice, but this day required such comfort. She didn’t think one’s world could end in mere moments, yet for her, it did. The future that helped lay Alicent to rest atop her silk pillows was no more. 

After years of tolerating Rhaenyra’s and Viserys’ arrogance, upholding duty, the kingdom, and the law, she felt she was due this one thing. It was not so much to ask. If her old friend were a better ruler, she would understand that marriage to the one who took advantage of you would be a minuscule sacrifice to make for the good of the realm. But Rhaenyra was a good mother, not a ruler—something which Alicent both envied and disliked. 

Downing the last contents of her cup, Alicent stood still in the day’s attire as she nodded to Ser Criston, who returned one in kind. He knew her destination without her speaking it into existence, escorting her the few rooms to her eldest son’s. She didn’t bother the courtesy of knocking as she shoved open the sturdy oak door to reveal her son resting on the mattress near his window, sheets at his thighs and prick in his hand. Bile briefly burned the Queen’s throat, covering her sneered lips to prevent it from spilling.

It wasn’t the first time she caught Aegon pleasuring himself, nor did she think it would be the last as she witnessed him with a pocket portrait of you in his grasp, stroking his glistening member. Alicent felt sick, turning away from the blasphemous sight before her and into Ser Cristion’s armored chest. This is not her son. 

“Fuck!”

The commotion alerted Aegon to their presence as he shouted obscenities, swiftly covering his hips with the discolored sheets. Was he not afforded the same privacy as others? The Keep was his home, too.

“You are in the presence of your Queen Mother. Act as such,” Criston ordered, the whisper of his hand gliding over Alicent’s back. She stepped away from her sworn protector, brown curls loose as she swallowed her tears.

“What have you done now?” she interrogated with a resentful shake of her head, a scowl on her plump lips.

Aegon peered at her confused, mouth opened as he craned his neck upwards. It was hard to tell what his mother implied, seeing as he got into his fair share of mischief alone and with his nephews and niece. “I don’t know what you mean,” he answered honestly, and Alicent believed him. 

She knew her son would survive daily with nothing but firewater and was unsurprised by his dispassionate attitude. This was another one of his jokes, she realized. Aegon was so ignorant of his bullying that it became his nature. He was incapable of understanding the magnitude of how his actions affected others. 

“What you did to the Princess, how you lured her from her bed at some unholy hour and raped a child! She is a child, Aegon!” Alicent roared, her velvet voice rattling in her throat with anger, arms trembling at her sides. “She does not understand the relationship between man and woman, and you took advantage of her. She trusted you!”

Tears pooled in Aegon’s amethyst eyes, his mouth pouting from his mother’s tirade. “She told me I could do it. I didn’t mean to hurt her!” he protested, recoiling. Aegon felt like a child who destroyed a precious vase after his parent told him not to touch it. “Did Aemond tell you? You know he’s lying. He’s still upset about the pig.”

“Another depiction of your cruelty,” the Queen snidely retorted, face curled in disgust. “Rhaenyra will never agree to a union of our Houses after what you’ve done. You’ve ruined all prospects of my happiness. How does it make you feel to treat your mother this way?” 

When her son did not answer, choosing to lower his head and cower, she stormed towards him, causing Aegon to scamper upright in fear and clutch the sheets in his trembling fingers. Without warning, Alicent struck her son across his cheek, pink blooming across his pale skin. Her son cradled his face as tears began to fall, but she roughly yanked Aegon’s hand away, hitting him like before and causing his lip to split as she screamed.

“How does it feel to have destroyed a child’s life? To have effectively decimated all chances of peace with your repulsive desires? She would have solidified your claim. No one would have thought to raise their banners otherwise,” she fumed as her arms gestured wildly, Aegon flinching with her move. “The realm’s blood is on your hands.”

He hiccuped, unevenly breathing as snot dripped into his mouth, stinging his bloodied lip. Aegon rubbed his swollen cheek that would no doubt bear the mark of his mother’s rage the next morn, swallowing his tears, spit, and mucus. 

“I’m sorry, mummy,” he remorsefully expressed, looking down in shame. 

He was only sorry because Alicent found out. Had it not been for her proposition to Rhaenyra, his mother would have never found out.

She sneered, glaring at her son as Alicent abruptly recalled a quote from a book about motherhood she read as a young girl. It stated how deeply a mother’s love for their child went. It was like nothing else and knew no law or pity. How its mere existence dares all things and remorselessly crushes down all that stood in its path.

Alicent could find evidence of herself in her children, no matter their Targaryen queerness or the silver hair and violet sparkle in their eyes. She saw herself in Helaena’s gently sloped nose, Aegon’s round and sleepless eyes, Aemond’s straight-backed bearing, and how his expressive brow always gave away his genuine emotions.

On the worst of days, she reminded herself that she left a legacy—that Viserys didn’t devour every evidence of her girlhood with his cursed blood. She clung to these shards of herself, reflected at her from her children, and it felt like trying to pick up splinters of colored glass from a broken Sept window with her delicate fingers.

The Queen loved Aegon but could not do so as she did for Helaena, Aemond, Daeron, and you. She would drink poison for her eldest but couldn’t embrace him. Alicent would step into dragon fire for him yet refused to say the words he desperately longed to hear. She tried to tell Aegon that she would love him no matter what he did, that he could not stop her from doing so, but the confession refused to roll off her tongue.

“You are no son of mine,” she declared, inhaling a shuddering breath. There was nothing more for her to say, and she left her son, whimpering and sniveling in the confines of his bedroom. 

Aegon stood alone in the dimly lit chamber, his eyes fixated on seeing his mother’s departure. Overwhelming agony and disgrace filled his being, and he found himself utterly wounded beyond words. It cut him deeply to the core that the person who was meant to love and protect him unconditionally could cause him such anguish. He couldn’t fathom how the one stable relationship he had hoped for in a tumultuous life had turned out to be the source of his deepest pain. It seemed as though his mother’s love was limited, only granted to those who could fulfill her expectations.

It seemed as if taking the place of his mother’s favorite wasn’t enough. Aemond also had to take his only true friend. 

Aegon concluded that Aemond must have made the situation far worse than it was in an attempt to direct Alicent’s wrath onto him. No doubt his younger brother did something to displease her. Without Aemond’s interruption, none of this would have happened. His mother wouldn’t be upset with him, Aegon would still have his pride, and you would still be his friend. After all, you were his first.

You were not naive. You comprehended why your mother chose to depart from the Red Keep, and you felt responsible for it all. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the idea of residing on Dragonstone. In the summer, it was a magnificent place. Aegon the Conqueror’s garden was a breathtaking sight that could rival the Keeps, and the perpetual breeze that swept across the island made the high temperatures quite bearable. Nevertheless, you were apprehensive about living there.

It wasn’t your home. 

You were born and grew up here, surrounded by companions and starting a new beginning with your Uncle Aemond. The Keep was all you knew, but it wasn’t all joyful memories. You often faced relentless teasing from your uncles for not having Valyrian features and simply because you were a girl. Despite the challenges, you wanted things to stay the same, even after what Aegon did. When your mother revealed important news during supper, you didn’t complain about your shared feelings, unlike your brothers. 

As the sun dipped below the western horizon, casting a warm yellow-orange glow across the sky, your mother gently reassured you that Aegon would never trouble you again as she tucked you snugly into bed. Rhaenyra, taking no chances, commissioned the palace locksmith to forge a sturdy iron bolt for the tunnel door and generously compensated him for his secrecy. She doubled the guard outside your chambers also to further ensure your safety. 

Knowing that your eldest uncle could not breach your defenses brought you immense relief, finally allowing you to rest your head. However, that sense of peace shattered as you awoke suddenly, a flutter of anxiety gripping your chest.

Your mother arranged to leave King’s Landing within a fortnight, and with your guards becoming more of a presence than before, you worried when you would see Aemond to tell him goodbye. Your mother had expressed her displeasure at you spending time with any of the Queen’s children, and you didn’t want him to think you abandoned him. 

Laying in your soft bed, surrounded by your plush pillows and fluffy duvet, you tossed and turned, battling the idea of if you should do what started this in the first place and sneak through the tunnels of Maegor’s Holdfast. You were scared about becoming lost in the vast passages, but you inhaled an encouraging breath and threw your covers off. A shiver ran through your body, whether from the sudden lack of warmth or anxiety; you were unsure as you snatched the lit candle from your bedside table. 

You planned to go into the first door you saw and take yourself from there, which proved problematic when it didn’t budge, no matter how hard you pushed. It sent a surge of panic into your soul as you glanced around the dark hallways, the sounds of rats squeaking and water dripping adding to the storm of fear that formed. You felt helpless, afraid that from the blackness, a monster would emerge and devour you whole, leaving nothing but bones for your parents to find. 

Exhale. Inhale.

The steady breathing of your lungs calmed your nerves enough to think clearly. All you needed to do was find the next exit. Eventually, the tunnels would end. 

As you went to step forward, a rock rolled under your shoe, causing you to stumble briefly before an idea came to mind. You recalled days when you spent outside with Helaena or your brothers drawing on the stone walkways of the Keep, creating pictures of your family, dragons, and all sorts of animals before they were washed away by rain. There was no rain in here. You could use it to mark your path and retrace your steps if lost. 

Dragging the stone along the walls created a line lighter than the rock as you felt it vibrate along uneven surfaces. Finally, you found another door. You moved the indentation with the shove of your shoulder, and it opened, revealing a dark room lit by only the silver moon glow shining through the windows. 

You realized it was the library as you saw the towers of bookcases lining the room and felt a surge of victory. Quickly, you scribbled the word onto the passage wall as you shut the portal, a painting depicting a fierce battle between men and dragons hanging on it. You could navigate yourself from here and stealthily walk the torchlit corridors of the Red Keep until you find Aemond’s quarters and enter as you did before. 

He wasn’t startled this time and only sleeplessly turned on his side to face you, opening his covers, which you crawled in greedily. You stuck yourself to Aemond’s side, pinning his arm uncomfortably between your bodies until he unwedged it with a sigh and put it under your neck. You were silent for a long moment with your hands tucked near your chin, unsure how to tell him you were leaving.

Aemond realized as he stared at the top of his canopy bed, violet eyes focused on the fabric that swirled in the night. The more he got to know you, the more your presence stopped irritating him. He liked that you respected his boundaries despite having different ones. You knew that Aemond preferred silence and hated it when someone took his things or disrupted whatever plans he made for the day, which was why he was so affronted when you decided to make a regular appearance in his life. 

“My mother is taking us to Dragonstone,” you blurted, unable to express yourself otherwise. 

Aemond blinked at you in the darkness and unhurriedly turned, his brows arched. “For how long?” he questioned. 

“I’m not sure,” you softly soughed, gazing downcast. “I think forever. Mother doesn’t think we’re safe after what Aegon did and the rumors that we’re…” You couldn’t finish your thought. It was as if the word bastard was something you could not say aloud. 

Aemond knew what you meant and pursed his thin lips as resentment swirled in his stomach. It felt like he couldn’t have anything that made him happy. Born without a dragon, he was forced to be the odd one out, and now he was losing the only person his age who seemed to care for him. Something or someone would permanently ruin his happiness. In this case, it was his brother. Hatred burned in his heart for Aegon. 

“I don’t think Mama will allow me to visit the Keep. She doesn’t want us to be around Queen Alicent or any of you,” you sullenly confided, melancholy tugging your eyes. “A part of me wants to leave because of Aegon, but the other wants to stay with you.” 

“I don’t need you to be my friend. I don’t need your pity,” Aemond barked, causing you to flinch. It was the only way he knew to be when he was uncomfortable with the notion of vulnerability. 

You sighed, squirming closer to him and putting your palm on his chest. “I don’t feel bad for you, Aemond. You’re my only friend besides my brothers. Why would I want to leave you behind?” 

He didn’t know how to respond, unused to someone other than his mother speaking with candid emotions. 

“I enjoy spending time with you, uncle. You’re the first person I told that I wanted to be like Nymeria and find my Mors Martell,” you confessed, playing with the fabric of his nightshirt between your fingers. He didn’t know why the idea that you needed to find your prince consort vexed him. 

“We all must make sacrifices for family,” Aemond stiffly explained. 

You could only get Aemond to offer you comfort by explicitly telling him. He was locked within his mind’s fortress, refusing to let anything or anyone in. 

“When Gaelithox is big enough, I’ll ride him and visit you. I promised that we would fly together.” Aemond’s purple orbs flicked to you at the reminder of your oath, and after a long stretch of speechlessness, he took your hand. 

“Very well,” he nodded, and you nestled closer to your uncle, resting your temple in the crook of his neck. That was good enough for you. You could rest easy now, but your uncle’s mind still whirred, stuck on one thought. 

“Do you think you’ll ever find your Mors Martell?” he asked, stirring you from your slumber. “I heard my mother talking one day, and she said that there was no place for a woman to have expectations for her husband. She must accept whatever match her father deems necessary.”

You hushed for a long moment, and Aemond thought you might have fallen asleep before you rose in your arms, looking down at him in the darkness. “I’m a Targaryen princess, not some regular noblewoman. My mother said I may choose who I want to marry, whether he be a knight, a dragon rider, or a second son—so long as he’s worthy.”

Seeing the hesitancy in his gaze, his silver-blonde hair loose and draped over the green satin pillows, you leaned down, bestowing a short yet sweet kiss to the top of his sun-spotted nose with a grin. He lay there, shocked, unable to speak or move, his cheeks blooming a vibrant pink that you could see in the darkness as you lay back down, feeling satisfied in your gut. 

“All I ask of him is that he has a good heart, cares for me as I do him, is someone with whom I can trust my secrets, and protects me from my enemies. That is the type of man who’s worthy. Dragon or not, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed contentedly, feeling the claws of sleep overtake you.

You stirred with a blink when Aemond’s hand rose slowly and tentatively touched your cheek, your brown eyes wide and glimmering in the moonlight. He swallowed hard, feeling how pleasant, soft, and warm your skin felt under his fingers.  He pressed his forehead against yours, feeling your breath quicken. Your uncle was hesitant about expressing what he wanted so as not to frighten you. Aegon was experienced with this sort of thing, not Aemond, and understood that you would see him the same way if he went about it like his brother did. 

As unworthy. 

A monster.

As he leaned in closer, he gently ran his thumb across your skin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers traced the curve of your neck, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Even in the dimly lit room, he could feel the heat of your blush.

“May I?” he asked, voice mumbled as you nodded quickly, a giddy feeling in your heart.

You gently traced your fingers along his chiseled jawline, savoring the unfamiliar intimacy of Aemond’s proximity. It sent a surge of warmth through his stomach, and his heart raced as he tenderly cupped your cheek in his hand. 

When your uncle’s lips finally pressed against yours, he was surprised by how soft and moist they were, pulling swiftly in slight embarrassment with a noiseless click of flesh. He turned away with hot ears and abruptly shut his eyes, feeling like he was about to die simultaneously from bashfulness and excitement.

“Let us sleep,” he tenderly ordered, settling back into his former position. It was too much emotion for one time, and you didn’t want to push him further. Aemond felt ashamed that he was sharing the same bed as his bastard niece, yet her presence had a calming effect on him.

You answered nothing, settling beside him like before as he put his arms around you, sending a flutter in your heart. It was his first kiss, just like yours, and for the first time in many years, he felt proud, fulfilled, happy, and worthy. For the time being, he didn’t worry about what a life without you and your brothers meant for him, focused only on your comforting warmth and scent that reminded him of a cool, bright summer day as you both fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

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I hope y'all enjoyed that last scene because it'll be the last sweet one for a long time! XD

Bedwetting, refusing to take baths/showers, and uncontrollable bladder and bowel movements are all common signs of childhood SA. I didn't add that scene in there just for the shock factor. While I didn't experience those symptoms, they are textbook signs.

Some of you shared your experiences in the comments and said what happened to the OC was validating. I wanted to give y'all a public thank you for sharing your experiences even when you didn't have to, and FUCK YOU to whoever did those things to you. Still, there are so many different ways people react to trauma that there isn't a "right" or "acceptable" way to cope with it. Just remember to get professional help if you're able and find ways to channel those feelings that will benefit you positively. It's a lifelong process that can be exhausting at times, but what I like to tell myself (even if it's morbid) is that if I'm dead, then I can't be anything, and if I'm not anything, then the wrong that person did to me is nothing. I don't recommend that line of thinking to everyone, tho. XD

Thank you again for reading!

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp , @britt-mf , @marvelescvpe , @haikyuusboringassmanager , @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf, @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024, @aleemendoza2425-blog

[yourstarvic]

Summary: Starting a new job is always exciting. Especially with it's taking care of four hungry Jackals. So, here you are, working your way with their crazy antics and filling in for an advertisement.

Pairing: MSBY Jackals x Manager!reader, no romantic pairs...(yet? Still thinking about it...Maybe do a poll? Let me know what ya'll think)

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Another day at work, another day that wasn’t your day off.

Standing far from the quiet wing spiker, watching as the makeup artist touch him up. You smiled as Sakusa did his best not to make a scowl, hating people close to him, especially his face. Tearing your eyes away, you looked around, seeing how everyone was running around, fixing the set, making sure the cameras were working and position correctly. Seeing as everyone was went around their business, you had one thought, “Why did I had fill the PR job!”

It’s wasn’t that you were complaining, it was an honest questions. You were new, little over a month to the job, and sure you have done PR jobs, being a volleyball manager in college, you know a bit. But why you? All you wanted was to sleep in and enjoy what was supposed to be your day off. But you had to admit, the set did look amazing. Shooting a cologne ad, the directors went in the direction of wanting to be sexy and seductive, while also staying classy. You didn’t know there was something this grand in Osaka. The grand staircase, the crystal chandelier, the decor, it felt you were on the set of the Phantom Of the Opera. 

Noticing the people around Sakusa have left, you saw an opening to go to the only person you know. You took a good look at him, the makeup did amazing on enchanting his feature, especially with a silk black button up, the top buttons open for his chest breath through, and paired perfectly with black slacks, you needed to remind yourself you have a boyfriend waiting for you at home. 

“Are you nervous?” You asked, approached him carefully, not wanting to ruin his mood more than it already was.

Clicking his tongue, his dark eyes stared down at you. You never know what he was thinking, always having a cold expression. “I should be asking you,” Sakusa voice had some concern, you think it did, laced in his voice. “You seem nervous.”

“I guess it’s a bit intimidating,” You hummed, looking around once more. 

“Sorry, that your were dragged into this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You smiled at the spiker, noticing how his expression soften that you held no ill-temp of coming with him to the event. “This seems really cool, especially seeing the behind the scenes of an cologne ad. It would be fun being filmed.”

You giggled when Sakusa rolled his eyes, an annoyance painted his face as he crossed his arms, “Nothing fun about being filmed.”

“That bad?”

“The lighting make it hot and sweaty,” Sakusa listed, “having people close to me, telling me what to do, what to wear, how act. It’s annoying. I though you’ve done this before?”

“Not like this,” Looking around at the everyone. Seeing how much money was spent to create this ad. “The most I’ve done was help advertise the volleyball club durning my college years.”

“Some experience is still good experience.”

“Not in this case.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi!” A man’s voice echoed throughout the hall. Turning behind you, you saw a man walking towards the two of you, dressed in a designer clothing, something you always thought a director would dress. You sniffle the giggle, seeing him fit the director stereotype. With open arms, he forcefully pulled Sakusa into a hug, making your face turned into concern as you saw the irradiated tick appearing on the poor spiker head. “So good to see you here! Happy they you are part of this! Big fan! Go Wolves!

“Jackals,” Sakusa corrected, final out of the mans arms and dusting himself off.

“Same thing,” the director waved off, “The model should be here getting ready, in the mean time-”

“Actually, sir,” you guessed it was his assistant, seeing how close and documents she had in her arms. “The model won’t be coming in.”

“What do you mean she isn’t coming it!”

“Something happened and-”

“You!” His finger now appeared in front of top you face, making you blinked at the suddenness of his voice. “You seem the same size as the model,” he then circled you, making you look at Sakusa in nervousness, shaking your head at him as you have a feeling you know what was going to happen. “Nice completion, hair could use a touch up, make up as well,” he snapped his finger, looking back at him as you rapidly shook your head no, “get her dressed up!”

“She doesn’t have any experience,” Sakusa countered, seeing the panic expression on your face as you were rushed to get dressed. “She’s just a manager, she doesn’t have what it takes to be on film, especially to replace a modal.”

Harsh, you thought, sending a glare at Sakusa, who only ignored your eyes. But the director did not care what words was said, telling those around him his vision of what the ad should be. Happy, that nothing will stop his effort of creating the greatest piece of his work.

You were soon standing in front of Sakusa, feeling the thing martial of the silk black dress that was held tightly by a corset, with the off the should sleeved loosely on your arms. You makeup was done and hair was done beautiful by the makeup artist. You only saw yourself when passed by a mirror, not able to appreciated how you look, but you had a feeling you looked amazing. A telling sign was those around you loudly whispered how beautiful you looked, making your cheeks heat up. 

Seeing his eyes widen at your appearance, you felt small. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried to lift the off the shoulder straps up to cover at lest your shoulders, but they only fell gracefully down. “Don’t look so surprise,” you mumbled, looking at everything but him.

“No, um,” He hesitated, looking away from your form for a bit before looking back at you. “You look good.”

“I knew it would fit,” the director gleefully came to you, looking at you with pride. “Now we film!”

Sakusa was right, filming was not fun. Not fun at all.

Having to retake the same gesture, walking, even a hand on on a shoulder, everything needed to be done until it was deem perfect by the director. You were exhausted. With the director issuing a five minutes break, you placed your hands on the railing, enjoying no one telling you what to do. 

“(L/n)-San,” your heard your name called out behind you. Answering with a hum, your head slowly perked at one of the makeup staff. With the brush and palate prepared in her hands, you turned your body with a sigh, smiling at her with a nod, understanding what was needed to do. Touching up your makeup for the majority of the time. When she finished, you thanked her before she walked off. 

“Still think this is fun?” Sakusa asked, walking up to you with a cocky smirk.

“Shut up,” You mumbled. Leaning your back against the cold railing, you placed your hand on either side of you. You ignored Sakusa chuckle, rolling your eyes, “Sorry for assuming this would be fun.”

Sakusa about to respond back, but before he could, the loud voice of the director boomed, causing you to quickly turned around, looking below to see what he was saying. “A vision!” He exclaimed, Placing his hand over his eyes as he woo over the idea he had. “I was blessed by an angel! I know the perfect scene to do! (L/n), Sakusa! All thanks to you! You are my inspiration! My muse! Quickly get everything ready! You two! Stay where you are!”

Everyone quickly buzzed around at his order, getting everything ready for the next scene. Glancing at Sakusa, next to you, you scrunched your face in confusion. Sakusa didn’t turned to look at you, rather he just clicked his tongue in annoyance as he glared at the director. Does he know something? You thought, blinking at his behavior as you looked down to the director as he quickly raced to the two of you. 

He quickly told you his vision that was graced to him by the angels above. Telling you what you need to do, need to feel, need to act, he described everything that was expected. With each word he describe to you, the warmer your face felt. Leaving right as he finished, you stood in shock, not knowing to express what to feel. Everything you done today was innocent, just a walk, maybe a small spin, a dance, a hand on the arm but this? This is madness.

Looking at the Jackal next to you, you knew what expression to feel: upset. There, written in his face was disgust. Scoffing at him, you started to get in the position the director wanted you to be. “You don’t have to look so disgust,” You spoke with a sneer, trying to hid your upset. “This isn’t ideal for me either.”

“I just don’t want to do it,” He mumbled, getting in position. “I’m tired of this."

There the two of you were, your back against the railing as Sakusa trapping you in. The director yelled a start to practice. Sakusa eyes bore into your as you only stared at him. Taking the lead, a hand gently touched your lower back, making you tense as it lightly grazed up your back. His face moved closer to yours, closing your eyes tightly shut, and slowly breathed to calm your frantic nerves. To others around you, it looked as if he was about to kiss your lips, but he then slowly titled his neck. Wanting to move his face into your neck, his lips accidentally graced your skin, making you open your eyes in shock with a sharp gasp, causing Sakusa to halt his movement, his eyes glancing back to your face, looking for any discomfort to-

“Why did you stop!” The director yelled in anger and disappointment. “It was perfect! The tension! It was erratic! It was sexy! It was perfect! Again! And this time we are filming! No way we’re missing this.”

Releasing a shaky breath, you placed a hand on your cheeks, feeling how hot your face become. You felt Sakusa eyes looking at you with a hint on concern, to which you only shook your head and let out a determined huff, “Let’s get this over with.”

Going back into position, the direction then yelled action. Trapping you between his arms, slowly trailing a hand from your lower back to your upper back. Closing in to your face and ducking into your neck. With his now moving to your shoulders, he lightly grazed his fingertip on your arms, goosebumps appearing in trails with his touch. With his fingers now having through yours, he slowly raising it closer to his face. Saying the phrase that was needed to him, he place a gently kiss on your pulse, making your breath hitched in your throat. Saying the catchline of the cologne, he then ducked his face and buried in your neck, having a tight hold on your wrist as-

“Cut!” The voice boomed with pride and excitement. With those words, you and Sakusa pushed away from each other, you feeling embarrassed about the whole situation while him, you assumed was the personal space. But why is there is tint of red on his cheeks? “Fantastic! Amazing! Now, do it again! But this time add-”

Never doing an advertisement again, you thought.

With filming finally over, your body felt tired from the embarrassment events from today. Now back in your regular clothing, you hold a garment bag close to you, at least finding something positive of the day, keeping the beautiful dress you wore. Sakusa, who was also back in his own clothing, also hold a garment bag filled with the clothing from the shoot, listening to what the director and producer were saying about the ad. You weren’t listening, it required to much of your energy, and it was something you were lacking of at the moment. And if there was a question regarding the shoot, you could always ask Sakusa about it when the moment arise.

A farewell broke you out of your tired trance, smiling as they left, the director swooning over the amazing shoot and the producer keeping a cool stance as they walked away, you breathed out in relief that the day was officially over. You turned to face Sakusa, about to mention how excited you were going home, but the moment his eyes looked at yours, you quickly tuned away. Thinking about the final scene in your head, you still felt the longing touch on your wrist and neck. Your face instantly started to heat up at the thought.

“Sakusa-San,” your voice cut through sharply. A sudden thought appeared to you. This ad will be seen by everyone. Given they told you in the beginning they will do their best not to show your face when publishing it, but the thought of the your team, family, and friends seeing it haunted you. “Tell anyone about this, and I’ll cough on you.”

“I-”

“Tell anyone that it was me,” You cut him off, sending him a warning look that made the tall man finch in fear, “I’ll sneeze on you.”

Sakusa only nodded at you, fear of saying anything to you would only increase the threats. Especially when you suddenly smiled at him and walked with a bounce on your step, him following you as you cheerfully said, “Now, let’s go home!”

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Notes: Hey! hope ya'll are enjoying it! I'm going to try and post once a week but if I don't please don't hate me <3 also 🫣 can you tell Sakusa is my favourite 🫣

Taglist: @usermins @walllflowerrrsss

[divine-knight-hand]

A Show of Temptation

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader

Summary: The show must go on! …But who will be the first to break in your and Loki’s game of temptation?

Content Warnings: Teasing, elements of exhibitionism, hints of jealous!Loki, dom!Loki, sub!reader, mirror sex, praise, degradation (use of the word “whore”), a touch of dacryphilia, and a little aftercare (<3).

Notes: Everybody send lots of birthday (month) love and wishes to the love of my life, @fandxmslxt69! Do it, neowwww!!!! (This is her gift, after all~) 🥳💕🎁

I've turned this little fic idea around and around in my head ever since we had this interaction, which was almost a year ago but feels like yesterday. (And, of course, none of this could have happened without the amazing and talented original artist, @grrrenadine!)

Also, I didn’t realize until I was almost done writing this, but some parts of this piece lowkey (Hehe! Get it?) remind me of Lesson Not Learnt. So, I guess this is a tribute as well as a gift. 😅

Word Count: 4,151

Dividers by @saradika

“The supernatural hour is at hand!” A disembodied voice boomed throughout the theater. “Please take your seats, and prepare to be amazed by the mischievous man of mystery, Loki, and his breathtaking assistant in magnificence, Y/N!”

That was our cue. Loki and I pushed through a set of curtains, arms interlocked as we strode to center stage.

With a wave of his free arm, he silenced the roaring cheers of the crowd in front of us. Before he even began to speak, everything about him commanded attention from the audience. Even offstage, he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, but he always had the intelligence and skillfulness to hold weight to it.

Tonight, he stood beside me in a sleek, neatly tailored black suit, paired with a green silk tie around his neck, which served as his outfit’s pop of color. My eyes continued to trail up his body, following the collar of his shirt before reaching the sharp cheekbones just below his piercing gaze. I used to think that he could see straight through me. He was so generally intuitive that I figured, in a way, he could.

On the other hand, my revealing costume didn’t help me retain any sense of mystery. I wore an emerald green sequined bodysuit with equally green elbow-length satin gloves. The only thing left to cover my legs was a pair of translucent tights. The costume left very little of my body to the imagination.

Every time I stepped onstage with Loki, I felt vulnerable, but I also felt safe. Had we not sold out every show we put on, I would have even found the experience intimate. As I worked with him onstage, he made me feel that was where I deserved to be, and with each show we put on together, I quickly managed to grow a confidence of my own.

Finally, after another moment of silent anticipation, Loki spoke, not even needing to raise his voice as the audience eagerly ate up his usual pre-show spiel. “Good evening to each and every one of you. Welcome to, not a show, but an experience of magic and mischief.” His eyes sparkled, holding promise for tonight’s show. Magic and mischief, indeed. “Tonight, with the help of my beautiful assistant, I will make you see and feel things that will leave you questioning the very world around you…”

I knew his introduction by heart at this point, so I allowed my thoughts to drift into more dangerous territory, mentally undressing the man I had interlocked arms with as the softness of his voice filled my ears, but the words stopped finding my consciousness.

I imagined that same voice talking me through it as he slowly thrusted in and out of me, our fingers interlocked as he held my hand. His soft hair would fall around our faces as the emerald green glow of his eyes in the low light would trail along my body, appraising me as he flattered me with sweet nothings and praise that seemed to roll off of his tongue with ease. How skilled he was with that silver tongue…

“Darling,” Loki’s sudden shift in tone snapped me out of my trance. “I believe I just asked you to grab the props for our first trick.”

“Oh!” I felt my cheeks grow warm as I rushed offstage, towards a small table that had a black top hat set atop it. The audience laughed at my absent-mindedness, adding to my embarrassment.

As my hands grabbed the corners of the velvet tablecloth, a naughty idea bloomed in my mind. The show was already off to a bit of a shaky start, on account of my excessive daydreaming, so I thought I’d made it up to Loki. I figured it was a good thing our nighttime shows only allowed adult audience members. After all, tonight was a good night for a little teasing.

I couldn’t help the smirk that curved at the corners of my lips as I wheeled the table over, making sure to sway my hips with each step. Sparks ignited under my skin as Loki’s eyes trailed over my body, his gaze seeming to caress each curve, dip, and contour my suit clung to.

“Here you go, my love~” I set the table right in front of him.

“Thank you, darling.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips as I rested my hand on his shoulder. 

Then, I scurried offstage to prepare my- I mean- his next trick.

As he amazed the audience by summoning the illusion of a rabbit to pull out of the hat on the table, I gathered the props for our cup-and-ball trick.

Once the gasps and and awed chatter from the audience died down, I wheeled over the next small table. Arriving in front of Loki, I spun myself around and kicked the previous table with the back of my heel, sending it wheeling backstage. Someone in the audience whistled, setting off a chain of scattered catcalls.

“Putting on a show tonight, are we?” He purred into my ear as his hands slid around my waist, guiding me in front of where he stood.

“Of course,” I whispered back, “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

“You clever minx… Two can play at that game…” I felt his chest shake against my back with soft laughter before he spoke loud enough for the audience to hear again. “In front of us are three cups, but only one red rubber ball. Care to assist me in mixing them up, my dear?”

“Gladly,” I trapped the ball under the middle cup before shuffling them with practiced ease.

Though my movements looked sporadic and careless, I actually moved with rapid precision, my eyes never leaving the cup with the ball under it. All the while, I felt Loki’s hands trail along my costumed hips, and I was overly aware of his breath at my ear as he softly gripped my thighs.

I bit my bottom lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape me as I was struck with a pang of desire. Damnit! He was too good at this. I had to be better.

Feeling myself fill with a playfully competitive spirit, I dropped my hands from the cup, tapping the back of Loki’s leg three times to signal that the ball was under the cup to the left. But, instead of dropping my hand right after, I kept it there, using my grip on it to pull myself closer to him.

“Now that the cups have been shuffled, I will reveal which one the ball remains under.” He announced.

In reality, he’d already used his seidr to make the ball appear invisible, so the audience would believe that it had completely disappeared.

His deft hands went to work lifting each cup with dramatic flair. “Nothing under cup number one… nor under cup number two… and- Hah-” Loki cleared his throat to hide the moan I elicited from him once I began slowly grinding back against his crotch.

A satisfied smirk spread across my face as I felt a faint twitch from behind me.

Loki finally recovered before lifting the last cup, revealing nothing. The crowd gasped in awe before erupting into applause.

Loki’s hands found their way back to my hips before he murmured by my ear. “You sneaky thing. That’s hardly fair…”

I softly giggled, reaching up to caress his face. “I don’t remember us making any rules.”

The applause began to die down, and for a moment, I could have sworn that I saw a glint of pride in Loki’s eyes.

“Enough with the party tricks.” He let me go, and I immediately missed the feeling of his hands on my body. “Now’s the time to truly astound our audience.”

“With pleasure~” I purred as I strutted backstage.

I wheeled over a longer table with an openable wooden box attached to its top.

“Allow me.” Loki took me in his arms, hooking one under my legs to rest me within the open box. Only my head and legs were left peeking out.

He then secured the latches on the box, locking me inside. “Comfortable?”

“Ye-” I gasped as I felt his touch slide up my leg–that which he could reach–and it was enough for me to feel a fluttering between my thighs. “Yes…”

Damnit! Of course he’d take the opportunity to tease me while I was locked up. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“I’m sure this next trick needs no explanation.” He announced as he raised a handsaw in the air. “Though, I must assure you, my dear assistant will escape this one unscathed.” He positioned the saw over the middle of the box and winked down at me. “Ready, darling?”

“Ready, my love~” My eyes were glued to the saw.

I wasn’t nervous. This next trick was purely illusion. The saw wasn’t even real. That was why I had to watch it carefully. I had to be able to see how close it was to me, because once it neared where my body was…

“Mmmm…” I rolled my eyes and tilted my head back as the illusion of the saw passed through me.

The audience got a kick out of my feigned ecstasy, erupting into laughter. Meanwhile, I opened my eyes just in time to see Loki’s lip twitch. He was completely unreadable.

Finally, a smirk broke across his face, and he tossed the saw offstage. It disappeared behind the curtains in a burst of green before he began to work the locks on my box.

“It would seem my assistant is more interested in being a little temptress tonight.” He helped me down from the table before effortlessly sending it wheeling backstage.

This was weird. He’d never stopped mid-trick before. What was he planning?

“Stay put, if you will, darling.” He booped my nose. “I’ll fetch this next one.”

He walked offstage, and I mentally panicked. Had I gone too far?

Loki returned with a tall box. He brought it over to me and opened the door.

“There we are.” He then approached me and guided me in by my hips. “Since you’ve been so keen on distracting us tonight, how about we make you disappear for the time being?”

The audience gasped in wonder as he positioned me inside the box, and he leaned in to growl by my ear. “I can’t imagine you being a little tease for this one.”

With that, he shut me inside, plummeting me into complete darkness. That was when I knew I hadn’t gone too far. In fact, I hadn’t gone far enough. As soon as I heard the clinking of a lock, a smirk spread across my face. He was testing me. Challenge accepted…

This trick fully depended on me. As Loki gave his spiel to buy me time, I was supposed to slip behind the fake back of the box, hidden from the audience’s view once he opened the door.

But, how could I resist using the quick-change skills that he and I learned for our past shows in Vegas? So, I got to work in the dark, being careful not to hit the walls and tip off Loki–or worse, the audience–as to what I was doing.

Satisfied with my work, I leaned against one side of the box, crossing one leg over the other as I rested my free hand on my hip.

“And with that…” Loki threw the box open. “She’s- Oh, Norns!”

The audience gasped in shock. There I stood, in nothing but the lacy green underwear I wore under my bodysuit. There were whoops and whistles from the crowd, and once my eyes found Loki’s, I licked my lips.

He was utterly frozen. I’d never seen him in such a state of shock. Had I actually managed to catch him off guard? His wide eyes dipped up and down my body, unsure of where to focus.

He finally seemed to come back to his senses–Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard–before slamming the door back shut. “And it looks like that’s all we have for our show tonight! Thank you for coming, and we hope you had a magnificent time.”

I heard the roaring cheers of the audience begin as the box started to move. Then, they started to slowly fade just before dying out entirely.

It was only after a moment of silence that Loki spoke. “Don’t bother putting your costume back on.” His voice sounded close, as if he was right by my ear. “You won’t be needing that for what I’ll be doing with you.”

My pulse started to thrum in my ears as I awaited my fate with nervous, yet eager, anticipation. Suddenly, the door flew open, and I was whisked into another room while my eyes were still adjusting to the light.

My back hit a wall, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to knock the wind out of me as Loki pinned me against it. He only needed one hand to hold my wrists above my head, the other gripped the bare skin of my hip.

“What was that?” He breathed, his face inches from mine. “Hm? What was that stunt you pulled out there?”

“I- I-” I stammered, at a loss for words.

“What’s the matter?” He cooed. “Suddenly feeling shy? You certainly weren’t just a few moments ago.”

“I- I didn’t mean anything by it.” I gulped. “I just wanted to-”

“To what?” Loki growled. “To parade yourself in front of an audience like a common whore?”

“I-”

“I don’t remember saying I was finished speaking.”

I shut my mouth, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

“So, what?” He went on. “You risk ruining our show just to show off your body to our paying viewers? Hm? To take us from a magic show to a peep show?” When I didn’t immediately respond, he barked, “Answer me.”

“N- no…” My voice came out small. Pathetic, even.

“Then, what?” Loki spat.

“I just wanted you.” Was I whining? I wasn’t sure. My heart was pounding too loud in my ears for me to hear myself clearly.

I noticed a small smirk twitch at his lip before he managed to hide it. “You did this to get my attention?”

“Yes.” I squeaked.

His expression softened, but his grip on my wrists and waist tightened. “Oh, my darling pet,” His tongue darted over his lips as he appraised me. “You do realize that all you need to do to have me is ask, yes?”

“I’m sorry.” And I was. I didn’t mean to take my antics too far.

“What’s done is done.” He softly chuckled. “And besides,” He moved one of my hands to the crotch of his pants. “Your little performance worked.”

My eyes widened at the feel of his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his trousers. I almost felt weak in the knees as I was hit with a strong pang of desire.

“However,” My eyes snapped back up to meet his when he continued. “Now that you have my attention, it would do you well to prepare for the consequences of that.”

“I’m ready.” I breathed. “I don’t care how. I just want you.”

He suddenly spun me around, my back against his chest as he turned us to face a nearby vanity. It was then that I realized we were in his dressing room.

“My darling pet,” He purred by my ear as one of his hands slid along my skin to cup my breast. “You have no idea what you’ve just asked for.”

I shuddered as his other hand moved from my hip to the hem of my panties. “Please…”

“Please, what?” He murmured as his lips neared my neck.

“Please- Ah-” My legs quivered as his hand dipped into my panties to tease fingers between my folds.

“Gods,” He panted between kisses on my neck. “Already so wet for me,”

“Hah… Loki…” I moaned, lightly bucking my hips in a desperate attempt to get more friction. “Please…”

“Still wanting more?” He gently chided. “You’re needy tonight.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but another moan tumbled from my lips as Loki’s passionate kisses quickly shifted to possessive bites.

An animalistic growl escaped his throat as he began to slowly grind against me from behind. “The things you do to me, girl… I have no more patience to summon.” He paused his movements to walk me towards his vanity. “I have to have you… Now.”

I whimpered as he pulled his hand away from my panties before he quickly bent me over. Letting out a yelp of surprise, I threw my hands in front of me to catch myself on the desk.

My eyes found the mirror in front of me and locked onto Loki’s reflection. His face was flushed, a sheen of sweat collecting on his brow. He appraised me with wild eyes, and took a moment to loosen his tie as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing before his chest continued rising and falling with his heavy breathing.

He deftly hooked a finger into my panties before effortlessly ripping them off and tossing them into a tattered heap on the ground. Then, he tore my bra off of me in the same fashion.

I licked my lips in anticipation as I felt the soft touch of his hand against the curve of my ass.

He softly rubbed it before giving it a squeeze. “Mmm, glorious…”

I felt him let go before the clinking of him undoing his belt filled the silence between us, sending a jolt of excitement into the pit of my stomach.

Finally, the clinking stopped, and I bit my lip as electricity crackled underneath my fingertips. I saw his arm in the motion of slowly stroking himself as he lined up with my entrance.

“Oh, darling…” He murmured as he ran a hand down my spine. “Take a deep breath for me.”

Take a deep breath? Confused, I did as he asked just before he pushed in with a single thrust, quickly filling me up as he bottomed out.

I cried out, my nails scratching the wood of the vanity as I scrambled to grip something. Anything.

I’d just barely adjusted before he gripped my hips and set a brutal pace, sliding almost fully out of me before slamming back in.

“Ah-” I squeezed my eyes shut as I was dizzy with pleasure. Loki was all I could feel, and all I could hear.

His primal grunts reached my ears as I slowly made sense of his praise. “That’s it… Mmh… You’re taking me so well… Ah- G- Gods- You look so perfect around my cock…”

“Loki…” I groaned as my back arched.

“Yes,” He panted. “Don’t forget who’s filling you up like this… Hah… Who’s making you feel this good… Mmh…”

My nails etched grooves into the wood of his vanity as he managed to keep up his merciless rhythm.

“You wanted this?” He grunted. “You wanted me to fuck you into submission? Mmh… To use you like a little cockslut? Ah- Like my little cockslut?”

I was so overwhelmed with ecstasy, I almost didn’t notice the tears beginning to stream down my face. Was I wearing makeup? My reflection was too blurry for me to see.

“Oh, Norns…” Loki groaned. “You look so perfect- Mmh- when you’re overcome with pleasure… Hah… So divine… Ngh… when you cry for me…”

The switch between praise and degradation nearly gave me whiplash. I couldn’t decide which one my body liked more. Seeing as each one made my cunt clench around his delicious cock, I decided I was eager to have more of both.

I felt the pressure mounting in my core as I approached my peak, and by the slight sloppiness creeping into his thrusts, I could tell he was close, too.

“Oh, darling,” I could have sworn his voice curled into a whimper. “Cum for me… Mmh- I need to feel you- F- Fuck- clench around me…”

That was all he needed to send me over the edge.

“L- Loki!” I cried out as my eyes rolled back.

I saw a flash of white, then for a moment, nothing. All I could do was feel. I felt wood chips from the vanity dig into my fingernails as I attempted to tighten my grip, and I felt the vibrations of my loud moans escaping my throat.

But, stronger than the rest of the sensations in my body, I felt my inner walls flutter around Loki’s cock as I came around it, as well as the way he unceasingly pistoned in and out of me, helping me ride out my high. Each drag of his cock sent another twinge of weakness into my knees. I was certain that, had he not been holding me by my hips, and had I not been bent over on his vanity, I would have keeled over.

I was still only semi-coherent when his cock twitched, and Loki sharply pulled me flush against him, spilling his release inside me.

“F- fuck!” Loki’s cry broke through the haze in my mind. “Ohhh, yes…”

My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I was able to refocus on was his reflection. His head was thrown back as his shoulders and chest moved in time with his heavy breathing and panting.

As he came down from his high, and he lowered his head to look at me, I saw the small wisps of hair that stuck to his still flushed face. He loosened his grip on my hips, which I’d almost forgotten he’d been holding, and rubbed the red marks apologetically. They would bruise over by the morning, and I’d admire them each chance I got. His marks on me. Proof that I was his.

I finally caught a look at myself in the mirror, and I looked ghoulish. As it would turn out, I was wearing makeup, and mascara tears made a mess of my cheeks, which also shone with sweat.

“Oh, dear…” Loki slowly helped me up, taking care not to pull out just yet. “Was I too rough with you?”

I swayed the smallest bit before he righted me, holding me against his chest. I was still catching my breath, so I couldn’t find the voice to respond just yet.

He tried to wipe my tears away with his thumb, frowning as he pulled away to rub my ruined mascara between his thumb and forefinger.

Instead, he resolved to cup the side of my face with his hand. “Breathe for me, darling. Just breathe. I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

I silently nodded before he pulled out of me, and I squeezed my legs shut as our shared mess began to drip down them. It was absolutely filthy, and it felt amazing.

“I’ve got you,” Loki picked me up bridal-style and carried me over to a small green sofa to lay me down. “There we are.” He gently stroked my cheek, and my eyes fluttered shut under his sweet caress. “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing,” I croaked.

“Thank the Norns.” Loki chuckled before conjuring a glass of water for me. “You had me worried for a moment.”

“Sorry.” I gave a small smile as he helped me sit up to take a sip of water.

I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. “And you weren’t too rough, by the way.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “It was perfect.” At least, that was what I said. What I wanted to imply was, You could fuck me senseless any day.

“Good.” Loki’s mouth twitched into a smirk, almost as if he heard my filthy thought. “Though I do hope I’ve discouraged you from assisting me in any future shows with such… obscenity.”

“Are you kidding?” I giggled. “Now that I know this is how teasing you ends, I’m gonna tease you at every show!”

“Oh, gods…” Loki massaged the bridge of his nose. “What have I started?”

“I’m just kidding.” I gently coaxed Loki’s hand away from his face. “From now on, I’ll behave onstage. Okay?”

In one fluid motion, Loki lifted me up and sat down on the sofa, pulling me into his lap. “That’s more like it.” He gave me a peck on the cheek.

I rested my head in the crook of his neck, melting into his hold on me. “Well, I’ll behave most of the time.”

Loki’s chest heaved with a sigh of disapproval. “Is there no end to your shows of temptation?”

“Nope!” I answered in a heartbeat.

“What a shame.” He softly chuckled, rubbing my back before planting a kiss on the crown of my head. “All well. What am I to do? As always, the show must go on…”

[rixsjwb]

lovin you.

summary: while at Tokyo award show, gojo is mesmerized by you singing on stage.

og song:

cover:

warning: nothing fluff

its not often you get asked to join the biggest award show in Tokyo, you were nervous.

you weren't a very big star like those who were attending, but your recent release album had a specific song that everyone was listening to, which was why you were invited to watch other artist in-person sing, and get their hard earned award infront of thousands of people.

so here you sat with shoko and utahime, both soloists who released many big hits that end in the top 100, on a cozy couch as you watched the infamous megumi, nobara and itadori perform there crazy dance stunts on stage. you had never been more amazed. They were known for their hard, hip-hop dances and crazy choreography.

and they were young too, which amazes you even more. you look around to see more famous idols arrive with the aide of a staff member guiding them to their assigned seats, as they bow to show respect to their juniors and seniors.

nanami kento, a famous old fashioned singer, singing in the modern days. he was. a big hit amongst the young and old generation, you stand up along with your seat mates to bow and show respect, shoko going in for a hug with him because she's known him since there youngling days.

but you keep it respectful and bow, unaware of an eye watching your every move.

other idols were leaving the seating area to prep for their performance. The most recent performer was the classic duo gojo satoru and geto suguru, they were very well known, handsome looking and everyone fanned over them.

seeing them up close makes you understand how whenever you see them posted on social media, being mobbed by fans that every goes absolutely lunatic on them. they were all sweaty for performing hard cherography and their beautiful vocals, again a wave of idols stand up to show their respect as they were lead to their new assigned seats, which was the couch next beside you.

you clap with the crowd as another idol performs, but your quick to show some respect to gojo and geto as they take a seat on the couch next to you, you could hear a small thank you coming out of gojo mouths as you both make eye contact, his smile charming and dimples poping out, while getos smooth baritone voice thanks you which his pretty hair and face.

as you watched other idols perform a staff member comes your way ushering you to go back stage as your turn is yet too come.

back stage staff are squirming like chkens with there heads cut off, they were very busy fixing pervious artists makeup to look presentable when going back to the seat area.

the makeup artist was quick to get you in her chair to do touch-ups on your hair and make-up and clothing, too, preping you with ear pieces and a microphone.

a beautiful silk off the shoulder with long flower sleeves was the dress you had worn before going on stage. You never adapted to the nervous jitters no matter how many times you performed in front of crowds. just that this was 10x as large.

you were giving a microphone before going on stage, preping your stance when you hear the all to familiar mc introduce you.

"Now, give it up for miss beautiful y/n l/n!"

you can hear the crowd cheering very loud, almost taking away the nervousness you felt before as you listen to the ear monitor count you in.

starting off strong with a whisle to a riff.

"lovin' you is easy 'cause you're beautiful,

-Makin' love with you is all I wanna do

-lovin' you is more than just a dream come true

-and everything that I do is out of lovin' you

la la la la la

la la la la la

do, do, do, do, do oh

..."

as you finish your song your quick to wave a goodbye too the crowd walking off stage, the nervous jitters replaced with relief as the thought of people throwing tomatoes and jumping you because you sounded horrible didn't come for you.

you felt good after that. As you get a glimpse of the crowd, everyone had the flashlights on waving in a rhythmic way in sync.

as your getting another touch-up you see some other idols getting ready to go on stage, a familiar toji fushiguro and sukuna ryomen being handed a mic for there up coming performances.

"You sounded great love, congratulations." toji says, despite is intimidating look he's was very supportive. sukuna beaide him nodding in agreement.

"thank you, good luck on stage!" You say wave to them as the staff is now telling them their queue is on in 10 seconds.

being lead back to your seat was now completely a different seating. you sat near the big 3 megumi nobara and itadori, who started a conversation with you saying how you sang amazingly.

you can't help but feel bashful with the never-ending complements.

as all performers came to an end, it was now them announcing the winner of different categories and nominees.

best album nominees: shoko ireri, gojo and geto, the big three, nanami, y/n

and the winner is...

gojo and geto with almost 1 billion active listeners on Spotify! and there biggest hit 'standing next to you'!

best top hit nominees: shoko iriei, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro, nanemi kento, gojo and geto, utahime, MMI(maki Mai and inumaki) etc

winner is:nanmi kento !!

best cherography nominees: the big 3, gojo satoru, MMI, etc

winner is: the big three!

best vocals nominees: y/n l/n, gojo and geto, nanami, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, MMI

winner is:y/n l/n!

to hear you being under that category and win was a shock to you, usually it was gojo and geto winning this category, or even nanami kento but you? you were shocked.

and the big screen obvious caught that.

you stand up clapping Bowing the the idols who sat behind you uthaime giving you a high five as both her and shoko cheer you on as you walk up to the stage to claim your award and give your speech.

"I'm shocked I even won this award, but I'm always grateful for the never endless love I've got. Thank you for all your support, everyone!" You keep it short as you stare at your award in a daze, still not believing you had just won this award.

as the award show comes to an end, waving goodbye to those fans who sat near the stage, you feel a tap on your shoulder causing you to turn around to see who it was, just for it to be the infamous gojo satoru.

"you were mesmerizing y/n, your sang so beautifully." he said, if it was in a quieter place you wouldve sworn he sounded shy while talking to you. he sounding genuine and sincere. "thank you, gojo. you and grto sounded great on stage." you sent him a smile as you're walking on stage. You don't realize he had a hand ghosting behind your waist. As the stage you were walking on had a thinner walk space, causing some idols to cram up in one spot.

as you finally get back stage, many idols made there way to the after party happening, but you just wanted to go home your heels were killing you when you were jumping with other idols showing support to idols who hadn't made an appearance in a while.

eventually, when going home you get a notification, showing gojo satoru had added you on Instagram. and your interactions had blown the internet off the roof.

many posted how gojo looked at you longingly, and in his next interview he posted, he blew up again after saying. "y/ns actually my inspiration for this next album, I'd love to do a collab with her one day!" geto smiling while shaking his head in agreement, "she's got a nice voice. I think we'd all have chemistry together." geto added on.

to say you have an upcoming album that you're sure your fans will love is something you can't wait to release.

[crunkyscorner]

Cult of the Lamb Tarot Zine!!

I recently got to work with the many amazing artists who participated in the tarot zine that released today!

The cards I made are below the cut! ❤️

Major Arcana: The Tower (XVI)

The Tower is a card that represents destruction, upheaval, and chaos. Who better to represent this card than the harbinger of chaos itself, Leshy?!

Minor Arcana: Seven of Swords

In tarot, the four suits that make up the minor arcana (Cups, Swords, Pentacles, and Wands) all represent something within one's waking life. The Swords suit is heavily connected to the psyche and intelligence. The Seven of Swords portrays betrayal, trickery and deception. I felt that the swords suit would play very well with a character from Silk Cradle, as it represents both domains of knowledge and war. As far as my character selection goes... I just wanted to draw Witness Allocer because they're a silly little dude 💜

[tomorrowxtogether]

EXCLUSIVE: Dior Names K-pop Group Tomorrow X Together Brand Ambassadors

The five-member group wore custom Kim Jones-designed stage outfits for their headline performance at Lollapalooza Aug. 5.

PARIS — Fresh off of last weekend’s Lollapalooza music festival in Chicago, K-popquintet Tomorrow X Together, aka TXT, have been crowned the newest Dior brand ambassadors.

Their custom-designed Dior stage ensembles were a stylish teaser for the official announcement.

Dior artistic director Kim Jones created the bespoke concert outfits members Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun and Hueningkai wore onstage as part of their 20-song, history-making set as the first Korean group to headline the music festival.

“Tomorrow X Together are the perfect ambassadors for Dior. They have a great attitude and style and they look great in their custom stage outfits,” said Jones. The looks recalled the sci-fi-inspired, slightly utilitarian feel of his pre-fall 2023 collection, staged last December in Egypt.

Their appointment as ambassadors “seals their friendship with Dior and Kim Jones,” the company said. “The South Korean singers now embody the spirit and singularity of Dior style, a modernity with a timeless signature.”

“Our headlining at Lollapalooza was one of the most significant performances of our career. It was truly an honor to share the stage with Dior, and we hope to continue to show Tomorrow X Together’s versatility through this partnership,” said Soobin. The group leader wore a gray silk polkadot sleeveless gilet, gray wool chino pants with a matching short kilt.

“I’m thrilled to become an ambassador of Dior and represent a brand that I am personally fond of,” said Yeonjun. “I loved being onstage and dressed in the special outfits that Kim Jones designed for us.” He sported a beige wool tweed sleeveless gilet, beige wool chino pants with a matching long kilt.

“It is a great honor to share a milestone moment with Dior. I look forward to the synergy we will be creating together,” added Beomgyu. He kept it cool in brown wool pleated shorts, paired with a brown wool cropped zip jacket, a brown silk polkadot sleeveless gilet onstage.

Taehyun wore a beige wool tweed sleeveless gilet, brown wool chino pants with matching long kilt for the performance. “Collaborating with a major fashion house like Dior for a music festival as big as Lollapalooza was truly amazing. I also look forward to our journey ahead with Dior,” he said of working with the brand.

The group’s youngest member Hueningkai added that the concert marked the first step for the ambassadorship. “Lollapalooza marked the beginning of our journey as Dior ambassadors. Dressing in Dior stage outfits specially designed by Kim Jones that suited us perfectly added to the indescribable joy we felt on that big stage,” he said.

He wore a gray wool cropped zip jacket, a gray silk polka dot sleeveless gilet, grey wool pleated shorts with matching short kilt.

Soobin, Yeonjun and Taehyun sported Dior Oblique B33 sneakers, while Beomgyu and Hueningkai both wore the brand’s Carlo boots.

The house had an early eye for K-pop’s global popularity and and growing cultural power. Jones designed custom looks for K-pop supergroup — and TXT senior label mates — BTS’ “Love Yourself: Speak Yourself” tour in 2019.

BTS’ Jimin joined Dior as global ambassador last year. His presence at the January menswear show lured thousands of fans to wait outside the venue for a glimpse of the superstar. Astro’s Cha Eun-woo and Exo’s Sehun are also ambassadors for Dior Men’s, while Blackpink’s Jisoo has been an ambassador on the womenswear side since 2019.

In June, Jones celebrated his five-year anniversary at the house with a powerful “pop-up” show that saw models emerge from the floor in cropped sweaters, herringbone cardigans and metallic tweed coats.

TXT’s “Sugar Rush Ride” is nominated in the Best K-pop category at the MTV Video Music Awards set to take place on Sept. 12.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Silk and ink

Commission by @estethell!!! Look how beautiful he is!!!! -> Link

Please go give this amazing artist some love!!!!

Words: 2k

Characters: Ori x OC

Warnings: Nothing, just innocent fluff

When she had first arrived in Erebor with her two younger siblings, Wai had held very little hope that they’d find a place in this war-stricken, miserable colony.

Besides the ancient inhabitants of the Lonely Mountain, returning to their ancestral home, there were many refugees from near and far as well and, just like Wai and her family, these were looking for a better life out here.

Who could fault them for that with the shadows growing ever longer and darker in territories so remote that the esteemed royalty of Erebor could not even imagine what they looked like?

Pushing aside all thoughts of societal norms and aspirations, Wai kept her head down and worked hard to build a new and better life for her family—she could and would not fail, not when she had gotten so far already.

Wai the Weaver, that was what they had called her in the wide prairies of her native country and—due to her exceptional skill and her reasonable prices—she soon found enough work to occupy her hands and feed her brother and sister at least one warm meal a day.

Moreover, as the weeks turned into months, she managed to unpack her loom and strike up some bargains and exchanges with the local dwarves to pursue her more intimate passion projects—life was good and yet, Wai could not help but feeling that something was missing.

One day, upon strolling around a rather secluded part of the Mountain proper, she found a lonely courtyard, decorated with a gallery of artworks depicting the heroes having undertaken that foolhardy quest that had ultimately provided a safe harbour for 3 orphans.

Kneeling on the cold ground, Wai touched her forehead to the slippery stone and said a prayer of gratitude. She knew not whether these brave dwarves had even survived or if they had been returned to the cradle of stone from whence they had come, but she was filled with a profound sensation of love at the sight of their stern, resolute faces.

As she walked down the row of expertly painted portraits, her eyes fell on someone who looked much less hardened than the others and a wistful smile bloomed across her face—deciphering the name underneath the stunning work of art with much difficulty, Wai cocked her head in surprise.

“Ori,” she whispered, already stepping closer and lifting a calloused, skilful finger to hover just a breath away from that delicate face that had so captured her attention—he was beautiful in a soft, inviting way, and the half-smile he wore complimented his big, curious eyes perfectly.

“Please be alive,” Wai spoke insistently to an inanimate rendition of a person she had never known; for some reason, she could not bear the idea of the world having been robbed of such a glorious, gorgeous creature. “Please, please, be happy and thriving. You look like you deserve it.”

From that day on, she would steal away with the hard-won results of her wearying and meticulous work, harvesting and processing different materials in long hours of quiet contemplation, to weave and craft while sitting under this specific painting. Somehow, she felt less alone and abandoned here.

“Do you like knitwork?” she asked the painting as she rolled up the fine thread produced by the worms which she had brought all the way from her home onto little spools. “I wonder what you’d say to the fabric of my people.”

Unbeknownst to her, Ori himself was contemplating the same question.

“I wonder what fabric that is,” Dori muttered as they stood on the porch of their little abode and watched a young boy with jet-black hair hasten down the street.

“Why don’t you go and ask him?” Nori said, his eyes twinkling with mischievous glee because he realised that he had captured both his brothers’ attention—he so loved it when he knew more than them.

“I cannot very well go and pounce upon a pebble, don’t be absurd,” Dori replied in a flustered tone that betrayed that he very much would have liked to do just that. “What is he carrying there and where is he going?”

For a long moment, Nori merely polished his nails against his own worn coat and let them stew in their curiosity.

“It’s wool,” he finally informed his spell-bound brothers. “He lives with a woman—too young to be the mother, maybe a sister or an aunt—and she’s made a deal with Dwalin. I say ‘deal’, but it was more akin to a bet.”

“Go on,” Dori pressed when the thieving rascal relapsed into enigmatic silence; Dori was convinced that he merely wanted to annoy his older brother when, in truth, it was Ori’s startled reaction that had distracted Nori from his tale.

“Her brother went and brushed the rams for months to see when their fur would be ideal for shearing and processing,” Nori finally picked up his narration again. “It seems, he’s finally content and so, I venture to say that he’s bringing the wool to that mysterious lady. She’s promised to give the first result of her craft with it to Dwalin and we’re both so impatient to see if those old, grumpy monstrosities will actually earn their keep even in times of peace.”

With a lopsided grin and a shallow sigh, he aimed his final blow, keeping both his brothers in his line of sight. “She’s doing marvellous things, that one. It’s come to my attention that she likes sitting under that piece of vandalism some unknown scribbler has put on the walls of an abandoned courtyard. If you’re really that interested in her fabrics, Dori, I’d suggest you seek her out there and talk to her. She’s more than open to trades, you know? I predict that, very soon, the little lady will have convinced someone to let her crossbreed her own sheep with the local animals to create the best wool of the region.”

“Ambitious little thing,” Dori admitted, searching his memory for that lady—he could not recall ever having seen anyone matching his brother’s description in the halls or the market stalls and he said so rather suspiciously.

“Oh no,” Nori laughed, “she’s very secretive and only those who know about her ever manage to find her. I’m just providing this information to you because you’re my brothers and I love you.”

“Are we talking about the same courtyard?” Ori squeaked into the silence of the standstill in his brothers’ conversation—his face was flushed with shame because he knew exactly which one Nori was referring to, mainly, because it had been him who had done the illegal paintings.

“Yes, she seems to be quite enamoured with it and with that illicit art, of course,” Nori grinned. “She’s not part of society and I doubt whether she has ever seen any of us in the flesh. Who knows? She might think that we’re some kind of ancient kings or revered servants of Mahal?”

“Pah!” Dori exclaimed. “Don’t talk such nonsense! We are clearly none of these things, but yes, one should go and find that lady, if possible.”

“I’ll go,” Ori volunteered and, to his brothers’ surprise, packed his own drawing kit and another shawl before rushing out of the house as if he was afraid that they’d ask him to clean out the whole kitchen with a tiny brush if he didn’t disappear fast enough.

Humming to herself, Wai let the delicate fabric glide through her fingers like woven water.

Her brother had brought home sturdy wool that was soaking in a tub—giving her a few hours to work on the art of her ancestors in the deserted courtyard—and she felt happier than she had in a long time.

“I think that, if we got to crossbreed the beasts, we’d get some very good wool,” she told the man in the painting in her soft, lilting voice.

His kind eyes and gentle face had become the very symbol of hope and comfort to her, and she came to look at it whenever she could.

“Who are you?” she asked, not expecting an answer, and almost kicking over her loom when an equally soft voice replied to her.

“He is a scribe, a member of the company, and a mediocre artist. He is I, Ori, at your service.”

Wai whirled around and there he was—in the flesh—the pale, copper-haired beauty she had been gazing upon for so long that his breathing, living pulchritude filled her with the immense joy of finding something familiar in a foreign land.

“My brother sends me to inquire about the fabric he’s seen on a young boy,” Ori started and then stepped forward eagerly. “Is this it? Do you make it yourself? Oh…may I touch it?”

Struck dumb by his overwhelming, cautious sweetness and the gleam in his dark eyes, Wai simply motioned invitingly at the loom.

“My name is Wai,” she then whispered. “I am so sorry. It must be strange to find someone talking to your likeness like a demented woman.”

Ori looked up from the swatch, blinking in surprise. “Not at all. Do you like them then, the paintings, I mean?”

“Immensely, they are breath-takingly beautiful,” Wai assured him with a shy bow. “This one especially.”

With a half-smile, Ori cocked his head inquisitively. “I am flattered,” he admitted quietly, “for I am not only the subject of the one you seem to favour but I am also the artist who made all of them. It’s a secret though; you won’t betray me to the others, right?”

He waved at the rest of the gallery.

“He,” Wai pointed at the painted Ori, “is the keeper of my secrets so, in gratitude for this extraordinary gift with which you have graced this oasis of peace, I shall, in turn, keep yours.” She smiled broadly—Ori felt a treacherous blush creep up his neck; he had never known a woman who could grin at him as if he was the most marvellous sight she had beheld in forever.

Then, her gaze fell on his art supplies. “Do you still draw?” she asked curiously, drawing a bit nearer until she could feel the fragrant heat emanating from his warmly clothed form.

“I do,” he acquiesced in a choked squeak.

“I want to offer you something,” she said fervently. “I’ve brought it from my home and I think that you would use it well. May I meet you again?”

Colour rose into her cheeks as she heard herself make such forward and indecent demands, but she gritted her teeth and tilted up her face bravely.

“My brother is a draper,” Ori replied, “and we’d be honoured to welcome you in our home. You can sit there and weave if that would please you.”

“Will you be there? I have grown used to your face—as undignified as that sounds—and it brings me great solace and joy!”

“I shall,” he promised, “and I’d love to be the keeper of your secrets.”

“If that is so,” Wai cheered, “I shall bring you one of the sticks of ancient ink from a faraway land.”

Ori was unsure what made his heart beat like a frantic, startled bird within his chest—the idea of precious ink or the knowledge that he had made a new friend—but he couldn’t help chuckling nervously. “I shall await you impatiently.”

“I have to go wash a whole batch of wool first, but I should be able to call on your eminent beauty tomorrow if that is agreeable to you?”

“Tomorrow,” Ori nodded, visibly dazed and delighted. “Until then, Miss Wai.”

Once again, many thanks to @estethell for this beautiful piece of art!

Lots of love from me <3

[liz-allyn]

Fuck you and fuck blaze

Ooh… is this a tasm peter prompt? I don’t take requests but I’ll give it a shot!

You own a small, quaint bookshop, researching ways to advertise (as your last effort, screaming obscenities at passersbys, proved unfruitful) when suddenly. you see him.

oh.

(See I gave you the acclaimed ‘oh’ because im an artist)

It’s Andrew motherhubbin Garfield

He walks into your shop, dressed head to toe in black, specifically comprised of a straight-fit jacket with notched collar and wide fluid trousers, by Saint Laurent, both in black and silver pinstripe wool, a “Yves” collar shirt in black-matte silk with a shiny stripe, a striped silk lavalliere, which is similar but more relaxed than an ascot, and finally Saint Laurent’s Vassili Chelsea leather boots, which feature a Cuban heel that marries nicely with his ‘reading poetry on a chill Thursday morning at 11am’ vibe.

“Hello he said I am Andrew Garfield. I am looking for poetry to read all this chill Thursday morning.”

 You were overwhelmed with shock. This was your favorite actor ever except he really hated the Spider-Man movies. You really hate all forms of commercialism.  Even more, you hated the Social Network. You hate anything that glorifies commercialism especially in a social context.  You also felt like Hacksaw Ridge was garbage, Silence was boring, Tick Tick Boom could literally suck a dick and die, and Under the Silver Lake was stupid, and although mainstream kinda got you, you hated it for being shown commercially in a theater.

“ wow that’s a lot”  he said.

 “Oh, I said all that out loud?” You say

“Yes,” he says, as he flutters his long lashes over his Amber golden eyes.  “You did. So do you have a book on poetry?”

“ Sorry, sometimes I just don’t know how to talk to people,” you said. “I spend a lot of time alone writing hateful messages online. It’s just that I hate commercialism, and I hate advertising so much, but more than anything I hate fire. Fire is bad, and it killed my whole family, which left me as an orphan.  Anything fire related is awful.”

“ wow he said “what an amazing story. I hope you don’t think this is too forward but I really think we should fuck.”

“ That is crazy” you exclaim. “People tell me I should get fucked all the time!” Then, as you sigh prettily you say, “I have Prince Harry’s memoir in stock, want to fuck on top of that?”

Andrew says “that’s edgy. I like it. But first, my friend Lin Manuel Miranda and I agre going to a basketball game snd he has an extra ticket. Would you like to go?”

“Omg,” you say, hyperventilating as you grin wide. “I hated Hamilton so much.”

Andrew laughs, “really no one says that. I’ve never heard that before.” You stare at his pouty cherry lips and his Greek-carved marble jaw and then you go to the basketball game with him. You sit court side, which is lame, because you’re right next to Lin manual and he’s next to tobey maguire, whose giant swimming pool blue eyes are distracting.

But it’s okay, you realize as Andrew grips your thigh. There’s nothing commercial about this at all so it can’t hurt you. Portland is the opposing team and it can’t hurt you in your safe space. And after this your gonna get railed. Not just by Andrew Garfield, but by the Portland Trail Blazers.

The end!

Thanks for reading anon!

[starfoam]

The Met Gala. The Met Gala! It was a bit of a joke to some, but to actually be here was a feather in Lo's cap all the same. She had been invited, a recognized artist and serious player of the game that was the fashion industry. It was prestigious! It was exciting! It was...

Kind of disappointing, actually? There was no question the runway was compelling, but once everyone was past the flashing cameras and curious eyes, the gala felt a bit like a normal party. She had expected something a bit more... she wasn't sure. Fantastical? With the parade of dazzling outfits (some even on theme) that preceded the event, she had sort of imagined something besides standing, mingling, and waiting for the big unveiling.

Oh sure, the actual exhibit was beautiful - carefully-crafted replicas of priceless artifacts - but apparently the centerpiece was the real deal. What it actually was had been kept under tight wraps, but it would appear after the cocktail hour, and for now Lo was left to nurse something sweet and floral with a name she couldn't pronounce.

Ah well, at least her outfit looked amazing. The theme was "A Legacy of Power: Artifacts through the Ages", and she had crafted a dark, elegant piece centered around a green girdle at her waist - a classic from Arthurian legend. The silk was vibrant and set with a clasp of twinkling irnimite, and the rest of the dress was made of a similar, milky shade of light brown and highlighted with metallic blue embroidery. Her wrists, neck, and hair were beset with green-gold clasps shaped like tree branches and delicate blooms, a reference to the actual Knight of the story.

She had wanted to go harder, but it wasn't in her budget. Maybe next year. As it was, she wasn't sure anybody got it. She took another sip of her drink.

@aamusedly

[nikmoire]

On Saturday, I started reading "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron. Even before reaching the practical part, I got stuck on a sentence and crafted my own writing exercise from it.

“The refusal to be creative is self-will and is counter to our true nature.”

TL;DR: I realized that I had wrongly labeled myself as uncreative for years. I reflect on childhood memories & moments of self-doubt.

In recent years, whenever someone asked me or it became a topic in some form, I would say, "I'm totally uncreative." I said it so much that I eventually believed it to be an unchangeable fact.

But when I look back on my life, the opposite was actually true. As a child, I always enjoyed drawing, crafting, and coming up with game ideas. Perhaps it was necessary because as a child, I was often alone, but thanks to the multitude of ideas in my head, I was never truly bored. My grandmother is a passionate crafter, and whenever she started a new hobby, I would join in. From window coloring to silk painting to knitting.

The first time I felt uncreative was in the 5th grade. The girl sitting next to me drew a lion, a character from her comic. It was quite impressive for a 10-year-old. I was so amazed that I decided to draw her character too. For me, it was no different than drawing my favorite Disney characters. But my classmates saw it differently. "How uncreative of you to just copy it." "L.'s drawing looks much better than yours." "You can't even draw." L. didn't mind at all. We drew a few pictures for each other, and we could have almost become friends if the rest of the class hadn't constantly criticized my "copying" and convinced her to stay away from me.

I stopped drawing in class for a while, except when I was with L. in religious education. But my drawings became darker and darker. Partly because I wanted to be “different” and partly because my classmates found plenty of other ways to pick on me or gossip behind my back, that it started to affect me mentally. My pictures featured grim reapers, death and lots of blood. I was 11.

When I was 14, I took a manga course during the summer vacation. We learned to draw with ink in a small group, and at the end, everyone got to exhibit their comics. Mine was about child abduction. Of course, why would I pick a more normal topic? But what I remember most about that course is when the teacher said, "Your drawings remind me of a famous mangaka." There it was again: Copycat, uncreative, not good enough. The teacher wouldn't tell me who exactly she meant. So until today, I don't know if there was any truth to that "accusation." I know I wasn't trying to copy anyone on purpose. But maybe I was so bad, dumb and uncreative that I couldn't help myself but copy someone else.

Two years later, I won a writing contest. First place. A friend told me that she attended a writing course during the summer vacation. A real course with teachers and overnight stays! I begged my parents to let me do something like that too. But they refused. It was a pity because maybe I had found something in which I was good enough and most importantly different in.

I wished someone had supported me. But my mother was convinced that I needed a "real" job. And I couldn't ask anyone else.

In high school, I received only top grades in my art class. I particularly enjoyed a project where we had to redesign a book. Mine was about depression. What else? It was so convincing that I almost got reported to the principal. I brushed off my art teacher's worries by saying, "Oh no, it's not about me. I just couldn't come up with any other topic, and then I happened to watch a documentary on the subject."

[...]

But even in my darkest moments, I somehow found my way back to creativity. However, I avoided telling others about it, because I hated their reaction to my art. For some reason, as an adult, you're not allowed to have hobbies in which you're not good at. And maybe everyone was right all along in my life, that I wasn't good because I was uncreative. And I convinced myself and others of that until I actually became devoid of ideas and what I feared most uncreative.

But that's not truly who I am. It was a decision. And decisions can be changed.

[ashlinyack]

Forbidden Phoenix Chapter 9

Xifeng could still not grasp everything as she awoke that morning. The days that had passed now were all but a whirlwind. She had already been placed in her palace the day before as a sudden change had occurred at the prompting of the Emperor. She had gone from being a candidate for the entering into the palace to a consort within mere moments. And it was a whirlwind of emotions that were flooding her as well. His Majesty had said that he had long wanted her here by his side and that he had long held affection for her. It made her tingle with delight knowing he had such sentiment for her and made her heart skip a beat at such a thought. For someone so great to care for someone so simple as her was nothing short of amazing. And then the lavishness of everything he had given her was nothing short of amazing.

               There had been a gold necklace inlaid with pink diamonds, a beautiful piece of green coral that matched the inside of her eyes, twenty brocades of the finest silk she had ever touched in many different colours, six gold hair pins that matched to form a garden like piece in the hair when done up, a white fox fur, two black bear furs, a ink painting of a sparrow on a cherry blossom branch done by an artists she favoured, five-hundred gold taels, and so many more items that she had not been able to see them all to grasp. Even the secret gift given by his Majesty that was now hidden by a secret panel in her bed still shocked her.

               Laying there in her grand bed, the soft blue curtains drawn closed to keep out the early morning sun, she kept recalling everything that had occurred over the last three days – from the gift of the rose jade bracelet to His Majesty whispering in her ear that day, saying that he keeps his promises. The soft kiss he had placed on her cheek as well. Holding a hand to her cheek, she felt the warmth rising in them at the thought, every inch of her awakening at the memory of his breath playing along her neck in those few seconds.

               Even in the evening she had been quite overwhelmed. She had spent most of her time talking with Xiaoxiao and Yi Chen, learning the various buildings of the Palace, the important staff she needed to know, and of course the members of the Harem. She had repeated each member and how long they had been apart of it back to Yi Chen, as well as the facts regarding their pregnancies. The Empress and the Emperor had been married for five years and conceived one child that died at the age of three months. Noble Consort Zhou had been in the Harem acting as the Second Wife for four years and had been able to have two children. One had lived until the age of three but had caught a horrible fever and died from it in his nanny’s arms, while the other child had not lived past one month. Consort Fei had been in the harem for two years and had conceived one child that lived till they were two, and once again became seriously ill with fever and died over night no matter how hard the physicians tried. Consort Xei had been in the harem for eight months now and had conceived one child but lost the child late into the pregnancy. None of the of the Noble Ladies had yet to conceive a child. It was only Imperial Concubine Chu who was now successful pregnant.

               The amount of information had been heartbreaking but also daunting. She wanted to give the Emperor a child that would survive. And she hoped that one day she could. For now, though she needed to face the Harem and be able to handle them, be able to withstand the criticism for being so quickly favoured by His Majesty. Though she was a high-ranking officials daughter, it was still rare for the amount of gifts to be given to a new consort like what occurred with her.

               Sighing softly, she pushed the curtain to the side, blinking as she was surprised to see Qian standing there. “Oh, good morning, Qian. I was just getting up.” Qian took a step back, unsure of what to do – she always had to wake her Mistress up in the morning no matter what the occasion. Xifeng was not an early riser in any shape or form, so for her to be awake before Qian even came to open the drapes confused her greatly. “Good… good morning my Lad… your Highness. I have breakfast set out for you already, and there is a basin of warm water and a cloth to wash for the day. I will go prepare the dress you wish to wear.”

               Xifeng nodded and headed out of the bedroom to allow Qian to do her work and set out her dress for the day, as well as her hair pins and makeup. She planned to wear a dark blue dress with a scattering of butterflies on it today in various colours – it was vibrant, bold and would make an unusual statement for her first time sitting in with the other Consorts for morning tea.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes with the warm cloth at the basin that sat near her table, she kept her nerves calm and at bay as best she could. She tried to reassure herself that she still had someone here with her and hoped that they did not think she had been favoured greatly compared to them. However, it was easy for games to be played in the harem between all the consorts if one was not careful and watched their backs. Sighing, she shook her head and sat at the table, pulling the bowl of congee close and enjoying its rich flavours with the steamed bun as well.

After eating, and at a leisurely pace at that, she returned to her bedroom and dressing room to attire for the day. The room was far grander than her bedroom had been back at the manor – and it was her own, not shared with her mother or grandmother. She only shared the expansive garden with Lady Ming who had a side area within the palace and that was fine with here, for it was better to have a friend within the home she now had versus an enemy in the future. Lady Ming had been chosen from the remaining girls by His Majesty for her skill in poetry and was conferred as a Noble Lady. She had made friends with the young lady when they first entered the selection process, and it was appreciated that she would have a friend within these grand walls of the Palace. She had been one of six others to stay within the palace and be apart of the harem.

Sitting at the large dressing table, she touched all of her own makeups and pins, plus everything that had since been added in the hours of her arrival to the palace. All the finest rouges and lip stains, all the finest eye brow pencils and colours for her eyes as well. She had never seen such a selection before her in all her days and she did not know where to begin. Even the new oils for her hair were exquisite and vast, ranging in unique to exotic scents that she could have only dreamed of owning at one time in her life.

Qian came to stand behind Xifeng at the dressing table, squeezing her shoulders lightly in comfort. “We best prepare you for the first tea with Her Majesty. You will sit with all the others, and you likely will be the one they talk of most since His Majesty named you a consort directly from the selection, even before it was complete.” Smiling, Xifeng nodded and began to work on her makeup, working on something that would make her eyes subtle yet expressive, as well as match the dress she wished to wear today. While the traditional way was for women to wear their hair up in the Harem, Xifeng was going to opt to be different and continue to be the stand-out if she must and have a partial down, with strands of her long dark hair wrapped with silk strands that reflected in the light. These strands she had designed to go with the dress she was wearing, to seem as though she herself was a butterfly taking flight – and in truth she was.

Once fully prepared and dressed, Xifeng and Qian departed the Palace of Eternal Spring to make their way to the Empress’ palace. It was not a terribly long walk, and it was nice to enjoy first thing in the morning. They did note however that they did not see many others on the way to the Empress’ palace and that made Xifeng wonder if she was running later than she was.

Upon arrival to the Palace of Heavens Beauty, Xifeng glanced around to see if any of the familiar faces from the selection were present yet. She was happy when she spotted Lady Ming, and quickly went to grab the chair beside her. Qian assisted Xifeng to sit, allowing for an ease of comfort in the chair with her unique outfit. “Good morning, Lady Ming. It is so good to see a familiar face among the others. I hope you settled well at the palace. I learned of your arrival late in the evening so was unable to come greet you properly, however now we can converse. I was so worried I had overslept and was to be late when I did not see a single soul on my way here, however it seems that there are still a few stragglers.”

Lady Ming jumped at the voice speaking to her, fanning herself slightly at the startle before smiling and thanking Qian as she poured the two of them tea and placed cakes. “Oh, Your Highness! I did not see you arrive! Please think nothing of it. I was quite tired last evening after the banquet and was simply glad to settle into a place that was going to be my own indeed, rather than a place I did not know I was going to stay at or not. I have been trying to figure out who everyone is and doing a poor job of it. Do tell, do you know who belongs where, and who is of what rank yet?”

Taking a small sip of the smooth herbal tea that Qian had poured, Xifeng nodded her head lightly in response. “Yes, my eunuch was ever so wonderful in instructing me to who is who. Over there… that is Nobel Consort Zhou, essentially the ‘second’ wife to the Emperor. Then over there, you have Noble Lady Su, Noble Lady Cao and Noble Lady Dong. Noble Lady Cao is good friends to the Empress, whereas Noble Lady Su is good friends to Noble Consort Zhou. Now over there, those two that just came in – those are Consort Fei and Consort Xie. They often stick together. They only one who isn’t here is Imperial Concubine Chu and that is because she is heavy with child and permitted to remain at rest. Her father actually works alongside my father in the Department for War and Defense so I am hopeful that we will have an amicable relationship together.” A satisfied smile Xifeng’s features, proud that she had barely been in the Harem a week and she already knew whom who was, who was friends with who, and who was having children.

Lady Ming look stunned at all the information she was suddenly ladened with, trying to recall it in hushed tones as she recalled everyone who was now present in the tearoom at the Empress’ palace. “So the Empress is not here yet then?” Just as Lady Ming asked the question, the Empress entered from a side door, all the consorts and noble ladies rising to bow and greet her majesty.

“Please be at ease my sisters. Sit and enjoy your cakes while we speak of matters at hand. First off, welcome to the new sisters of the Harem. I am sure we have all had a chance to meet over the past days and will have further chances to get to know each other in the days to come as we serve His Majesty well.” The Empress’ handmaid came up beside her and offered her a cup of tea, bowing her head lightly once the cup was taken and departing to stand off to the side. It seemed that most of the consorts and noble ladies had brought their handmaids with them this morning, all except Lady Ming, which Xifeng found curious. “The first matter that needs to be addressed, which may be rushed for those new to the Harem, is His Majesty’s birthday banquet. It is in three months time, and I will need to know what it is you plan to give His Majesty so that I can inform Her Majesty the Empress Dowager within the next month. No gift should overstate that of the Empress Mother’s, nor mine.”

Xifeng swallowed the lump in her throat, having been aware of the Emperor���s birthday well before she entered the palace, and had in fact already started the gift she had planned to give him. The silk had been handmade by her after painstakingly learning to do so and dyed as well to a beautiful colour. Now she was working on the embroidery slowly to bring life to the piece she was creating. She did not know if the piece she was making would be over the top, and would out-shine that of the Empress and the Empress Dowager. She did not wish to create enemies within such a short time of her being here but at the time she did wish to please His Majesty.

“Second, His Majesty has asked us to host a soup kitchen at the southern gate for the refugees. We are the provide soup, buns and clothes to those who have come to the capital seeking shelter, and it does not matter if they are Mage or not, we are to offers them respite. I offered to go to the temple to pray for the refugees but he did not take kindly to this idea. So do I have anyone who would willingly volunteer to run the soup kitchen – this means organizing it, setting it up, and ensuring that it goes well in the name of His Majesty?”

The Empress glanced about the room to get a feel for anyone who would volunteer but no one immediately put their hand up. After a moment’s thought, Xifeng raised her hand, smiling softly. “Your Majesty, it would be an honour to assist with the soup kitchen for those less fortunate. I have skills in making clothes as does my handmaid so we can even have several clothes made in a few days time for children in need. Lady Ming, would you like to help me? It would be a great experience to do, and we would be spreading the kindness of His Majesty.”

Lady Ming blinked for a moment, looking lost as she glanced between Xifeng – a Consort she saw as her friend – and the Empress who could either make or break her. Smiling after a moment, she nodded her head and took Xifeng’s hand gently. “Oh yes Consort Li! I would be most delighted to assist you! I have skill in making clothes also so me and my handmaid can also make some clothing for the children, and even for the mothers. And if it is out of our palace, it will be easier to organize than stretched between many.” The fright seemed to melt away from the innocent girl, and Xifeng couldn’t help but worry for her and what she might face in the coming days in the palace as her friend – for now though they had each other and that is what mattered.

“Very well then. The Palace of Eternal Spring will organize the soup kitchen. If any wish to assist and join in, speak to Consort Li. I will expect it to be done by the end of the week. The final matter, which many are already aware of but those new to the harem will not be is the trip to the Summer Palace. It will take place as usual just after His Majesty’s birthday. Those who he selects will pass a final assessment to go with me. If you do not behave well in the Harem, then you do not go to the Summer Palace. It is as simple as that. The only ones guaranteed to go are myself and Noble Consort Zhou as we are the senior members of the Harem. If you wish to go and enjoy the delights the Summer Palace has to offer – do not offend me or His Majesty.”

The Empress stood with the last words and departed without another peep to the rest of the Harem. Noble Consort Zhou tailed after her, however the rest of the harem seemed to disperse to return to their own palaces. Departing herself, walking with Qian and Lady Ming, Xifeng couldn’t help that the end was mostly aimed at her. She was favoured already by the Emperor without having done much – she simply had arrived and he already liked her greatly. She did not know why, did not understand the reasoning behind it. She just knew this to be true and accepted it.

“Let’s detour through the Imperial Garden. I want to get some ideas to redo our own garden – make it truly a picture of Eternal Spring.” The escape from the stuffiness of the Empress’ palace was a relief but she needed more fresh air than the walk between the two palaces gave. The detour was a bit out of the way, but it gave her an excuse to spend more time with Lady Ming, and to gather ideas to change the garden slightly.

Once they had arrived, she took a deep breath of the fresh air the flowers gave in the soft breeze. The sound of the river running through the Imperial Garden’s tickled at her ear and it brought peace to her mind – and a memory of not to long ago with a stranger on the riverbank who happened to be the Emperor. Feeling her cheeks warm at the thought she turned to look at the various flowers, letting her mind change and drift, not wanting to think of his touch on her again but it was ever so difficult not to.

“What flowers do you enjoy most Lady Ming? I am partial to tree blossoms and azaleas. I do however want to include flowers that bloom year-round in our garden not just one season, so it truly is forever in bloom.” Smiling, Xifeng bent down to smell a patch of narcissus and smelled their delicate scent, enjoying them for the moment in thought. It brought back memories with her family at the time of the New Year Festival, and she couldn’t help but smile more knowing that times had been pleasant before she entered the palace. However now she was here for them, and things had changed in the blink of an eye, and it had become prosperous for them indeed.

Lady Ming glanced about the garden herself at all the tall tress, beds of flowers, ponds of lotus, and pavilions spread about for conversation and enjoyments of tea and activity. “Consort Li, I must be honest. I do not know fully which flower I enjoy the most as I have never been asked. However, I do quite enjoy the sounds of the waterfall that is in the palace already – I find it very comforting to be around. Is it possible to have a small creek and waterfall created by my area? With lotus flowers perhaps?”

Out of nowhere, a rich voice chimed in, startling them from observing the flowers. Suddenly Yongzheng was there behind them with his entourage that included four ministers and two princes, as well as several eunuchs, touring the Gardens no doubt. He approached Consort Li and placed a soft kiss to her cheek in greeting, startling her even more. “Whatever it is you desire to create in the gardens of your palace shall occur. No expense will be spared to provide a luscious, relaxing garden for you Consort Li, and for you Noble Lady Ming. Fu Gei, have extra workers sent to the Palace of Eternal Spring to obey the orders of Consort Li and Lady Ming. I would very much like for this project to be completed a month before my birthday, so I have time to enjoy it.”

Stunned into silence for the moment, Xifeng and Lady Ming quickly bowed and greeted the Emperor, which elicited a chuckle out of him and to wave it off. It was a casual greeting in the garden to Yongzheng between the women he liked the most and himself, he did not need the formalities. “Please my dears do not fret with the formalities. Relax. It is just us.” Fu Gei moved to the front of the group to stand beside the Emperor, bowing to the two ladies of the Harem respectively. He whispered to the Emperor briefly before he was waved off and smiled at the ladies.

Xifeng smiled and bowed once again in thanks before moving forward boldly and placed a soft kiss to the Emperor’s cheek, feeling her cheeks flush in the moment. “Thank you, Your Majesty. For allowing this endeavor to occur. We simply wish for a beautiful space to live in, and a wonderful space to raise your children in should we be so honoured. We shall work diligently to complete this task in time for you to enjoy before your birthday.”

Nodding, the Emperor continued on his way, touching Consort Li gently on the arm in a sign of affection before going to a desired pavilion for tea and discussion with his ministers. Xifeng on the other hand, let out the breath she was holding and could feel her cheeks burning from embarrassment. Lady Ming was giggling lightly behind her hand as she looked at moments that passed between the two of them.

Departing back to the Palace of Eternal Spring, the walk was mostly a discussion on flowers and what could be placed where within the palace – they agreed on lotus flowers within several ponds, a new pavilion for siting to enjoy tea and meals together, a large space that they could simply sit and enjoy the flowers or play chess, and perhaps a small waterfall or two throughout the palace. As well as the occasional mention of His Majesty, their discussion was very in depth for two people who had simply become friends a few days before. It was delightful to have a good friend in the palace that was easy to discuss various topics with from flowers to their husband – she had never had such a friend before, and it was rather new to Xifeng. Still, it was quite enjoyable to know she had someone she could interact with.

Arriving to the palace, they noticed Consort Xie and Lady Yin waiting at one of the pavilions with Lady Ming’s handmaid. They had been served tea and cakes in their time waiting it would seem but were not to pleased to have been waiting a time or two for their return. It was no fault of theirs since they had detoured to the Imperial Garden and met His Majesty there that they were waylaid from returning to the Palace of Eternal Spring. And they were not on a schedule either to meet others, so to Xifeng, she did not feel completely upset by the matter.

“Sister Li, we were beginning to wonder if you got lost in your return to your own palace. We were so wishing to have tea with you. You are, after all, the talk of the Harem with having achieved your position so quickly. For many of us it isn’t this simple task of appearing and becoming his favoured Consort, as it has been with you. Do tell us – how did you woo a man like the Emperor. You must have a hidden talent that has spoken to him in some manner.” Xie Shuchun spoke softly as she held the green porcelain cup in her hand, enjoying the fragrance of the herbal tea that had been brewed for her. She was a beautiful woman not much older than Xifeng herself and had been within the Emperor’s harem for at least eight months from what she was made aware of.

Lady Ming was about to speak when Xifeng gently touched her arm to console her. She would handle this on her own without the assistance of other’s. The games of the Harem had already come to her doorstep, and she wished to put a quick end to it. “Sister Xie, I do not know what tricks you speak of, for I am simply blessed. I am not favoured any higher nor any lower than you are. All the decisions are made by His Majesty so if he wishes to honour me, so be it. If you and Lady Yin wish to remain for lunch you may, we can add a few more dishes. We are simply going to planning how to reinvigorate the gardens here, before we likely will begin to plan the soup kitchen. Otherwise, I do wish you a good day.”

Consort Xie huffed, putting the cup of unfinished tea down on the table abruptly and standing. She brushed past in a flurry of robes, failing to offer a respectable nod or bow to either Lady Ming or Xifeng in the process. Lady Yin on the other hand tried to be a little calmer in her departure, muttering pleasantries and bowing as she tailed after Consort Xie, however it was apparent that she was not to remain without the other there. Perhaps it was not the answer she was seeking, but it was the answer she was going to get. For it was the simple truth of the matter, and no one needed to know any further details of her and His Majesty’s relationship.

Qian giggled as she headed off towards the kitchens with Lady Ming’s handmaid, Luli, going to fetch a few more dishes for an early lunch so that they can discuss more of the planning of the garden. Through the discussions, Xifeng felt the sense that this palace would become enchanting and ethereal once it was completed, her delight at knowing that she was given full reign over how things could occur in this space was still unbelievable.

[pqrachel]

I've been wanting to do this for a while, but finally got the motivation to actually do it.

I made my Blanksford OCs into Marvel Snap cards!!!

I might come back and fully render these, but I don't want to commit to it, cuz doing simpler sketch drawings daily has been really fun.

Aeri - 1/2 - When this moves, the next card you play costs 1 less. (I know I wanted a cheap cost move effect for Aeri but there's so many of those already that I had trouble finding a new effect to use. This effect seems like it could be abused by some niche deck but I can't think of what that would be so maybe it's fine.)

Gabby - 3/5 - When another card moves to a location, move this card there too. (Gabby also seemed like they'd need a move-based effect and while I really wanted synergy with Aeri to be cute, this effect just seems super fun. Even if Gabby being a 5 power card doesn't make much sense lore-wise, it fits really well balance-wise since otherwise it'd be an unplayable effect and also it matches well with Silk as a 5 power card that moves.)

Madi V. - 2/0 - If you win this location you get double the boosters this game. (This is my favorite effect and I think it'd be really cool. Madi doesn't have powers in the Blanksford lore, but she's a tattoo artist so giving cards more booster so you can get cool splits is an amazing fit and there's not a card that does that already. I know Second Dinner is hesitant to make getting boosters for free too easy, so I think having a 2/0 that needs to win the location is a fun way to limit that a bit. And also it could be a fun bluff card, like you play a cheap card with it in one location and then don't play anything on until turn 6, so if you opponent's trying to be nice they'll let you win that one, but then on turn 6 you Infinaut another location. Having that as a possibility would prevent players from just giving you the location for free since you could rob them over the game.)

Taylor Che - 2/1 - On Reveal: Shuffle Chronus into your deck. Chronus - 2/5 - If this is in your deck at the end of the game, give Taylor Che +5 Power. (This was the effect that I kept changing, because Taylor's power in Blanksford lore are so unique. I thought about doing a Howard the Duck type card but for your opponent's deck, but that felt too derivative. This effect felt unique since there's not many cards that do stuff while in your deck. You could play Taylor last turn for an easy 2/6. Or you could play Taylor with Lockjaw maybe and use Chronus to get your bigger cards. And keeping Taylor buffed by shuffling Chronus back in if you draw it. It's definitely the least cool effect of the 4 but I still think it's flavorful enough.)