#women shall fly

[snowyowlee]

Also, Ingvild Synnøve Midtskogen is someone to look out for, isn't she? Good ones!

[snowyowlee]

Engelberg angels!

Engelberg, 21.12.2024 - podium:

Nika Prevc 🇸🇮

Katharina Schmid 🇩🇪

Thea Minyan Bjørseth 🇳🇴

📸 Tadeusz Mieczyński / skijumping.pl

[longagoitwastuesday]

Every day I wake up regretting getting emotionally invested in Jujutsu Kaisen

[nerdygirlramblings]

viking!141 with some historical accuracy

The hersir, Riley, a phantom from Nastrond, stalked across the glen, shouting to those with him and flying the banner of Jarl Price. They were nearly done. All that was left was to collect the thrall.

Riley watched the thegnar bring over those too old or young to have fought and those men and women whose injuries could be mended. Those who fought and died or were mortally wounded were left where they fell. Hel would take those Valhalla did not.

In the distance, he saw two of his steadfast men - MacTavish and Garrick - dragging game between them. Good, he thought, we shall need the food soon.

But as they approached, he could see the thing between them was moving, thrashing viciously. And it could speak. High keening in a tongue he did not recognize carried across the wind. Whoever MacTavish and Garrick held was furious, that much was clear.

They came to him with their prize prisoner. He could see the strain on his men's faces as they tried to hold you still. You raised your head and looked him straight in the eye. You weren't intimidated by the bones on his armor. Instead, you spat at him and continued your tirade in your florid language.

You were beautiful in your fury.

"She cut down Burns and nearly killed Sanderson," Garrick reported. He looked at you as though seeing a Valkyrie, reverence and wonder in every line of his face. Riley had only ever seen Garrick look at him or MacTavish or Price that way before.

"Ye shoulda seen 'er," MacTavish added, tone full of awe and longing. "Like one of Tyr's own she was." Riley was surprised as MacTavish typically reserved that tone only for him, Garrick, and Price.

He looked you over, noting the strong lines of muscles flexing on your arms and legs as you attempted to wrench free of your captors. He saw the determination in your eye. You had a gash on your side, but you moved without impediment. Price's borg had no peace-weaver in its Great Hall. Riley knew Price cared little for the formality, but looking at you, he saw an opportunity.

They could take you, savage though you were, and keep you themselves. Instead of being their thrall, they could channel your courage and ferocity. Train you. You could become a shield maiden in service of Price.

And, if things went as Garrick and MacTavish seemed to hope - and he admitted he too would enjoy - behind closed doors, they could be in service of you.

[snowyowlee]

They were awesome!

Also shout out to the Lisa Eder fanclub!. I'm pretty sure they now live on the hill

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

First, love the dark Lucifer Vampire story! And I love how treats Adam like a pet. So, here's what I have you:

Prince! Adam x Warlord! Lucifer (yes he would be dark and treat Adam like a glorified pet. Adam would grow to like it but at first, he's embarrassed as hell. He's given to Lucifer as his prisoner to stop him from attacking the kingdom of Heaven. Adam tries to fight it but he's forced into it by his mother, Sera, against his will. Lilith will be dead in this, died during childbirth, and Charlotte is just as ruthless as her father. Lucifer sees Adam as his pet for the most part but later on, decides he'd make a good bride. He's submissive and does what he's told. Perfect. Adam slowly falls in love with him and Lucifer will follow slowly after. Adam's personality would basically be shy but easily moved to tears due to his low self-esteem. Sera treats him like a waste of space and much prefers her daughter, Emily.)

XxX

Prince Adam couldn't believe what he was hearing from his own mother. He had been dragged from his room by guards, no yelling would get them to stop, and he was brought before his mother, Queen Sera of the kingdom of Heaven. She looked down at him with a glare like she normally would.

"Adam. The invaders have come to a decision." Adam had a bad feeling about this. Emily refused to look at him but she did look bored to be here. She was always bored, even when their mother was hurting Adam. But, this whole situation leaves Adam with a bad taste in his mouth and the guards forcing him to kneel didn't help either.

"Adam, you will go with them as...collateral to keep them away from our borders. They've requested a prisoner and me and Emily certainly couldn't leave Heaven to its own devices. That leaves you."

No. No! This couldn't be happening! Adam was to be a prisoner?! To some tyrant, they call The Devil?! He felt tears fall onto the floor as he begged, "Please! There has to be—"

Sera simply scoffed. "Cease you're crying. Honestly, a man shouldn't be crying this much but I guess you never met the criteria of a man, did you?" Adam flinched, hurt once more by her words. Emily let out a chuckle but she didn't say much of anything. She never did. She saw Adam like one would a fly. Annoying but completely forgotten when out of the room.

He was bound in chains and gagged before being put in the dungeons to wait until after the kingdom celebrated getting out of war. They would throw a feast for the tyrant and his daughter, they would take their prisoner and leave. The war over and Adam gone. Two birds with one stone.

Queen Sera prepared the most magnificent feast they could and just in time. The Warlord and his daughter were here. He walked in like owned the place, his regal cape flooding behind him. His daughter, taller than him by a head, walked beside him, her cold eyes gazing at everything in disgust. Their palace was much better.

"Ah, if isn't the Queen." The Warlord said, smirking at her. There was a reason they called him The Devil. The birth name given to him was Lucifer. His daughter, Charlotte Morningstar, looked just smug, her red eyes dancing with mirth at the fact everyone seemed afraid of them.

She was known to keep a plethora of women at her side that she used as her pleasure. She took care of them in her opinion and they all loved being her pets, but it was amusing to see all of them, especially the women, terrified that she would seduce them and use them like a pet.

They weren't worthy of that.

"Shall we eat?"

I love all of this so much!! @beef-brisket @fanofstuff01 @kittenfangirl20 I need of rp of this yesterday lmao

-

Adam sat down in the cell, his eyes wet as he couldn't stop silently crying as he could hear the celebration going on upstairs. They were celebrating him being given to a ruthless Warlord as a pet, a slave in every sense of the word.

He was supposed to be a Prince, yet he was treated no better than the dead rat in the corner that was rotting away. Soon that would be him, The Devil will likely torture him for the rest of his days and use him any way possible.

Adam felt another tear fall from his eyes, he was a virgin so the thought of the only time he'd be having sex........ It broke his heart that he would never be loved by anyone.

His father loved him before he passed away from being sick. Adam wished he was still alive, surely he wouldn't let his mother do this.

His mother didn't love him, Adams not sure she ever did. His sister seemed indifferent towards him. He didn't know what he did to make them not want or love him.

No one loved him, no one ever would. Adam was never going to be happy ever again.

His eyes stayed locked down on his bound hands. Was this what awaited him down South in the car country of Hell? To be thrown in the dungeon, bound and gagged, only to be fed enough to live. To know only pain and suffering from this day on. Maybe the Warlord will take pity and make Adams death quick and painless.

And maybe Adam will grow wings and fly away.

[vhagarys]

Storm’s End

rhaenyra x reader

summary: your father was set on marrying one of his daughters to the one eyed prince. but, to your knowledge, vhagar was green, not gold..

warnings: none ? enjoy :)

As one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters, you stood in the foyer awaiting the prince regent Aemond Targaryen.

Adorned with a simple black dress, you paired with your favorite necklace with fine little rubies scattered across it. Your dark brown hair hung loosely around your face, curls framing your soft features.

Screams of confusion and terror tore through the thick silence, you watched in horror as the guards outside bolted from their posts.

Vhagar was a fearsome, intimidating creature. That much you’d gathered from the rare sightings of her high in the clouds.

But Vhagar was green, not gold.

Suddenly, a golden dragon descended from the skies, landing outside the throne room. A fearsome woman with long silver tresses and a fitted black riding jacket mounted the sizeable creature.

Queen Rhaenyra, in all of her glory, dismounted from her dragon and stalked through the now foyer, eyeing you and your sisters before fixing her gaze on your father on the other side of the room.

“Vhagar is dead,” she said bluntly, continuing her slow, menacing approach to the steps of the throne.

Your father’s nostrils flared.

“Impossible, he-”

“The prince, along with his dragon, have been slain,” she reached into her pocket and unceremoniously tossed the gem towards his feet, clanging against the stone floor.

A sapphire.

Lord Baratheon’s breath hitched, the severity of such events cracked through his stern, unwavering demeanor.

Rhaenyra allowed him only a moment to process before she returned her gaze to the group of girls lined up before her.

You could feel your sisters trembling in fear, not daring to lift their gaze and meet the soon-to-be queen’s piercing violet eyes.

Yet, you couldn’t seem to deny yourself the sight of such beauty, such power bestowed before you.

Soon, your eyes met. Her intense scrutiny stripped you bare, exposed, and goose prickles traveled up your arms as a cool breeze blew against you.

The ghost of a smirk danced across her features.

“I shall take on of yours to wed, Lord Baratheon. Such a union would be advantageous for you, would it not?” Not even granting him her full attention, the pair of you seemed transfixed on one another.

He coughed, “Your Grac- pardon, my Queen. I am without any male heirs I’m afraid. I’m sure we can-”

The queen sauntered closer to you, until you could make out the lingering scent of dragon and ash upon her.

You couldn’t put into words the inexplicable pull you felt towards the striking women. Such thoughts you’d never possessed for another woman, let alone anyone for that matter.

Gently, she lifted a finger to delicately tuck a lock of your curly, brown locks behind your ear.

“What is your name, my dear,” she whispered, mapping out all the lines and crevices you carried on your face.

Time froze as you felt the heat of her body so close to yours, tension palpable as you reveled in her attention.

Subtlety, you leaned into her touch. Closing your eyes a tad too long, you answered,

“Y/N, my Queen,” her features momentarily shifted to one of surprise, clearly not used to hearing such title.

You took this moment to drink in the sight of her plush, pink lips. The slight curve of her nose, the sculpture of her cheekbones, and the baby silver tresses that likely escaped her braids while flying.

Breathtaking.

Her features glowed as a smile graced her lips.

“If she will allow it, I should like to become better acquainted with your daughter Y/N, my Lord.”

Her eyebrows quirked up as if in question, awaiting your response.

You felt your cheeks blossom into a shade of pink, never had you imagined such events to unfold on this day.

The Queen, asking to court you, of all people.

Not waiting for your father’s reply, you bowed lightly.

“I am honored your grace. It would most please me to meet your acquaintance,” a warm, tingling feeling spread like wildlife up through your core as her eyes shone with both delight and something deeper.

Alluring, dangerous even.

Your father’s mouth was agape as she extended her arm to you which you wrapped yours around in kind.

Your heart beat out of your chest as you turned away from the life you’d always known, always wishing to venture beyond the confines of Storms End.

Ahead of you awaited her dragon Syrax. Assessing you with the same sparkle in her companions eyes, the dragon grunted at you and lowered its body.

Rhaenyra stood behind you patiently, letting you and her dragon familiarize yourself with one another.

She watched curiously as fear and wonder and excitement danced across your features. Never did she expect you to reach your arm out and caress her dragons snout.

You already had begun surprising her.

At last, she lightly traced her finger up your arm, breaking your trance as your nerves slowly started to calm.

Whispering in your ear, the excitement and the thrill of what was to come bubbled inside you.

“Are you ready, issa byka jelmāzma?”

(My little storm)

authors note: FINALLY A RHAENYRA FIC.. pretty fun writing for her, hope yall enjoy!

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Don’t Think I Can Do This (Daemon x Reader)

Hey y’all so I know I was supposed to write another request but my job has cause my imagination to ran dry and this was certainly easier cause i wanted to write something that shows the burden that women carry and also that Daemon is a very grey character, I hope you guys like it

The story of (y/n) Eaglemore and Daemon Targaryen did not start as a love story, one would suppose that seems to be a common trait amongst the concept of arranged marriages, especially to a young maiden of an independent kingdom to the rogue prince Targaryen, their marriage was the establishment of Eaglemore joining their forces with the Targaryens, (y/n) was dressed in her traditional attire with her hair in an intricate style, she was breath of fresh air in the house of the dragons, a proud Eagle that was brave enough to fly with the dragons as the flag with the colors of red and black flew next to the black and red she assumed the similarities were bound as an omen for success.

That was quickly ripped out of her mind at the bedding ceremony that she endured, the prince was not brutal, yet she had hoped that he would forbid it, he was cold and only placed a kiss at the top of her head after it was done before he left her laying while the ones that observed it cleared the room, tears streamed down from embarrassment while the handmaidens helped her get up to assist her with her bath.

-

“Husband!”

She exclaimed excitedly before she skipped over to Daemon who was preoccupied with having a conversation with Viserys was much more important than turning his head to face her, alas the newlywed stood by his side and reached for his hand to get his attention, innocently she squeezed it only to be met with an annoyed expression as he gazed intensely at her.

“What?! (Y/n)! Did they not teach basic manners in your homeland?”

“I-I just, I wanted to give you this, I sewed it for you, it’s the dragon symbol with the eagle”

“Great, give it to the handmaidens, is that all?”

Suddenly she became hyper-aware of the pie of eyes around her, mostly men that had taken interest in the scene that unfolded in the gardens, she felt like a little girl scolded by her father, she bit her lower lip as her shoulders sunk in defeat, the glimpse in her eyes slowly disappearing like a light snuffed out.

“My apologies, I did not wish to interrupt you and the king, I hope you can forgive me, y-your grace”

“It is quite alright, my dear, for what it’s worth I found your creation a wonderful gift, do not pay attention to daemon he has never been good with gifts”

“If that means I have never been good with gifts that have no use then yes, I agree”

“I shall go, excuse me, your grace, husband”

She curtsied before she ran off, her chocolate-colored hair swinging left and right in her ponytail as her eyes looked down to hide the tears that she desperately held back, Daemon watched her and could sense the damage he had caused, sometimes he would catch himself staring at her with purity and interest, he had even smiled once when she struggled to find the right word in his language.

He should have stopped, he should have held his tongue when the evident quiver of her chin started to show when her eyes bounced in different directions as she wanted to gather her composure, but he didn’t, now Daemon stood as still as a grain of salt whilst she once again ran away from him covered in shame.

“She is your lady wife Daemon, must you be so hard on her?”

“A wife that was bestowed to me”

“She is also someone that was bestowed a spouse, yet she took it with grace and is grasping desperately to create the best out of the worst, as a man that prides himself on his intelligence your lady wife has surpassed you, at least in principle and empathy”

Daemon was stunned, as Viserys spoke in such kind words his words slashed through Daemon like the sharpest of knives, this was Daemon's second marriage, and it had become second nature to be rude and unattainable to his lady wife since the bronze bitch shared the same hatred as he did for her, now the cheerful lady with the deer like eyes and red puffy cheeks had been nothing but kind, a foreign pain in his chest started to make Daemon uneasy as she ran further and out of his line of sight.

“If I were you I would be very ashamed”

-

(Y/n) sat in front of the mirror as one of her handmaidens lit her candles and the other brushed (y/n)s hair to prepare her for bed, (y/n) stood as still as she could though her fingers intertwined with one another and twisted in odd ways.

“Could you leave me with Chiara, please? Thank you”

(Y/n) requested softly, the young handmaiden only curtsied before she walked out of (y/n)s chamber, whilst Chiara continued to brush her hair, they had grown into a bond that (y/n) felt comfort in, Chiara was sweet and honest, somewhat older, and had just given birth to her first child, she was the first handmaiden that she met when she got to the red keep.

“Do you love your lord husband?”

“I do, now”

“What do you mean?”

“I married him per my father's request, and he gave the biggest dowry, at first it was difficult, we had to figure out a way to communicate and after a while, I like to think that he grew to love me as much as I love him, though first, we respected one another, then love came gradually”

(Y/n) grew silent, her head hanging low before she bit her lip in defeat, she respected her lord husband? Did her lord husband respect her? After the incident on the morrow, it certainly didn’t feel like it.

(Y/n) had not noticed that Chiara had scrounged in front of her and placed her hands over (y/n)s, she only saw the tears that splashed over the handmaidens' skin.

“You won’t always feel like the outsider”

“I don’t think I can do this”

“You can, it is alright my dear”

One sob came after the other as (y/n)s body shook and Chiara lovingly wrapped her arms around the lady’s frame in such delicacy, it resembled a girl hugging her porcelain doll while she tried to not crack it, in its macabre nature you could identify a certain beauty, someone that had the strength to comfort a disheveled young lady as she navigated through womanhood and all its trials.

What had (y/n) nor Chiara had taken into account was that Prince Daemon had made his way to the half-cracked door, freezing in his sport once the whimpers of agony hit his ears, he peaked through the shadows only to be met with his lady wife letting tears stain her dress and hiccups shaking her hunching back as the handmaiden rubbed circles on her back.

“Prince Daemon is a fool for not acknowledging the precious stone that is you, may the gods bless him and open his eyes before he is taken from us”

Daemon had no reason to intervene, the poor lady was right, he was a fool, here she was, a beautiful and intelligent young royalty crying over his acts, he had always longed for home, for family, and now he kicked and toyed with it.

He should be the one comforting his lady wife, to gaze upon (y/n)s puffy and red face and do his best to calm her nerves, not to be the face of her pain, shamefully he scurried away without a word, mad at his reflection that stared back at him in such high horse, he had become everything he hated, a man that did not care about anyone but himself, stopping at nothing to prove he was right.

-

“Good morrow”

(Y/n) did not respond, she only raised her head and nodded at Daemon that had just entered the dining area, exhausted from crying the lady felt like a family of horses had run over her, getting barely a wink of sleep, evidently so by the veins under her eyes.

(Y/n)s silence was deafening to Daemon, however, he cleared his throat and took a sit next to his lady wife, waiting for a servant to pour him some wine.

“Orange juice? I believe we do not grow these over here”

“A gift from my mother, she said orange juice in the morning is a secret to a woman’s beauty”

“She must be the most astonishing lady back in your line”

“You met her, on our wedding feast, I believe you were too busy to pay attention, like always”

The last comment was barely above a whisper still sharp as a knife right on Daemon's abdomen, Daemon only turned his gaze at her, confused by her demeanor, it wasn’t uncalled for yet it took him by surprise, she always seemed to have the ability to hide her agony at least in public.

“Mayhaps we could go to her, I’m sure she will be more than happy if her daughter visited her”

“Not if my belly is flat, as much as she wanted me to be thin for most of my life she is now sending raven after raven to just check in with my monthly bleeds”

She informed him in a mumbling tone while her hand was rubbing circles on her temples, visibly annoyed over her mother's disregard for her well-being and hyper-focused on her womb.

Daemon was taken back by her comfortability to speak over her monthly visits, brushing it off easily though since they were husband and wife after all, those matters should concern him as well, the idea of a sweet little child running to (y/n)s arms brought him joy.

“It must be uneasy, being put in this position”

“Indeed and if I am being honest, my lord husband has not been making it any easier, with my empty womb nor his attitude”

“I understand you are cross with me”

“Can you blame me? You humiliated me”

Her tone switched from my king to a hiss, her eyes spewing fire as she stared back at him, it was the first time that she dared to show her true emotions, albeit Daemon could detect that it wasn’t just an act of anger but a sense of fear was laying behind those hues of hers.

He was correct, (y/n) feared for her future, the whispers of Daemon's visits to the street of silk, the adoration for his niece, his continuing ignorance over their wedlock, it all came crashing on her chest making it unable to breathe sometimes.

“I came to break my fast with you as a sign of goodwill, I want us to work on our relation-“

“Us? There is no us, you made sure of that my prince, you have crashed all my efforts and now you dare to speak of us”

“I cannot correct my past mistakes, I can only hope that you will allow me to work on our future, you did not deserve my coldness and for that, I sincerely apologize, I only wish for your good graces and for you to allow me to show you how I truly feel for you and our wedlock”

Silence, her eyes focused on his to scatter for one ounce of a lie, alas she was left with nothing, a sigh left her lips as she sunk to her chair defeated, why did the gods curse her with such a difficult match?

“I do not know if I can love you, I tried to desperately earn your affection for so long, I have grown tired of this”

“I know you have and I do not blame you, I beg you, my sweet (y/n), let me try”

His hand had found hers to hold, the warm flesh against hers grew goosebumps, a small beam of light found its way into her soul and a ghost of a smile appeared as (y/n) glimpsed upon their hands locked together, she gave him a subtle squeeze to see if this was a dream or reality.

“I suppose trying couldn’t hurt”

“Thank you, now you must eat, your mother might be right you have lost some weight”

“My efforts of getting accustomed to your foods have not been working”

“You do not have to, we can bring a cook from your homeland, my lady wife shall eat whatever her heart contents”

“There are some delicacies that I believe you would enjoy”

“I am not very picky with food so I will try anything you put in front of me”

Chatter was something (y/n) could easily do, however, even though Daemons spirits were high, (y/n) would steal glances of caution at him, was this another scheme? Or was he genuinely craving her presence and good graces?

“I was hoping you could come to meet Caraxes later”

“I do not know if that is the best idea”

“Nonsense, Caraxes is a part of me, therefore a part of you by law, soon our children will have their eggs on their cradle, if you are surrounded by dragons you need to get used to their presence”

Requests are open!

[moonmaiden1996]

Thoughts on first time sex with Sanji? 😋

Firstly, I am loving these asks! Bring on more!

Secondly .... I have so many thoughts about this! First-time sex with Sanji is bound to be an experience.

Let's dive in, shall we?

18+

xxxx

If He's a Virgin

Picture this: Sanji, the suave, smooth-talking chef, is suddenly reduced to a nervous wreck—not because he’s afraid of embarrassing himself, but because he’s terrified of not living up to your expectations. This man is all in. He’s the epitome of romance, not a one-night-stand guy. If you’re letting him into your heart (and your bed), he’s determined to prove himself worthy.

The Baratie was full of stories—ex-pirates swapping tales, flirting with visiting women—let be honest, there is a ship full of hot men who can cook. Women are going to be flooding in from all over the East Blue— but Sanji? Oh, he wasn’t just about those meaningless flings and one night stand. For him, it’s about love. So here he is, a trembling yet determined wreck, ready to make your first time together as special as he’s always dreamed.

"Am I okay to…?""Of course, baby, you can touch me however you want."

He’d look at you like you’re a literal goddess—awed, almost unworthy to lay his hands on you, let alone anything more intimate. The moment he climaxes and he paints your body in his thick cum? Absolute chaos.

"My love! I am so sorry. Forgive me…!"Sanji’s voice shakes, his eyes glistening with tears as he stares down at your cum-splattered body, looking genuinely horrified at the “mess” he’s made."Don’t be… feels so good. Do it again," you purr, but immediately regret it as his nose starts bleeding, and—well—he passes out.

When he’s conscious again, he’ll be torn between watching your beautiful face as he slides his cock into you OR obsessively marveling at how your glistening pussy takes him marveling at how tightly you take him.

It is emotional, tender, and totally yours, this needy baby chef will require some serious aftercare (and probably a cold towel for that nosebleed).

xxxxx

If You’re the Virgin

Oh, now this is a whole different scenario. Sanji would be nothing short of worshipful. The fact that you—a masterpiece of beauty and grace—are entrusting him to be your first? He’s honored beyond words. And trust me, after this, no other man will ever compare. He’ll make sure of that.

In the days leading up to the big moment, he’ll pamper you endlessly: luxurious baths, gourmet meals, romantic outings—all to help you relax and feel completely at ease.

"How did you enjoy your massage, my love?" he’ll ask with that heart-melting smile, knowing full well he’s turned you into absolute butter in his hands.

Finally, when the moment comes, he’s all reverence and tenderness."So perfect," he’ll murmur as his lips graze your skin and his hands explore the softness of your thighs."Shall we begin, beautiful?" His burning gaze meets yours, and before you know it, he’s coaxing moans and gasps from you with every kiss and caress.

Sanji’s skilled hands and tongue will ensure you’re floating in a haze of pleasure before he even thinks about his own needs. But don’t worry- you will be so lost in a haze of pleasure you won't feel an ounce of pain— the only thing you will aware of when he does finally bury himself in you is how good he feels. 

And don’t worry he will make sure nothing Interrupts you. He’s taken precautions to ensure no moss-headed idiot bursts in. This is your moment, and it’ll end with you lying boneless and glowing on his mattress, thoroughly pampered and loved.

xxxxx

If You’re Both Experienced

Now, this? This is a passionate dance. Clothes fly in a flurry of kisses and whispered “I love yous,” and the two of you fall onto a bed scattered with rose petals. (Sanji’s planned it, of course there are roses.)

"I adore you, Mon Cher.""Oh, Mi Amore."

This isn’t just sex—it’s love-making. Every touch, every kiss is Sanji pouring his heart out, showing you through action what his words and cooking have always expressed. By the end of it, you’ll be “his wife” which he will remind everyone at length, before stating that as such you will also be the “mother of his future children,” and ‘’possible already carrying their child.’’ If not? He’s already scheming about making that happen ASAP.

Xxxxx

Whether it’s tender and nervous, reverent and worshipful, or passionate and poetic, Sanji will make your first time together unforgettable. With this man, it’s never just about physical pleasure—it’s about love, connection, and ensuring you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

Ps Sanji will defiantly be smoking after you have sex (if you are okay with it)

Bon appétit!

[snowyowlee]

Win for Katha!!! And congrats to Nika and Jaqui!!! Nice podium!

[vampirecorleone]

Horrorween Day 29 / 31: Hatchet for the Honeymoon (1970) dir. Mario Bava "My name is John Harrington. I'm 30 years old. I am a paranoiac. Hmph... "paranoiac". An enchanting word. So civilized, and full of possibilities. The truth is, I am completely mad... the realization which annoyed me at first, but is now amusing to me. Quite amusing. Nobody suspects I am a madman... a dangerous murderer. Not Mildred, my wife... nor the employees of my fashion center... nor, of course, my customers. Poor little fly. Why are you so daring? You're so fragile... and yet you're born, you reproduce yourself, and you die, like man. The difference is that you don't think, and you don't need to remember. You don't fear death because you ignore it. Your insignificant life is a mere biological accident. But death exists, I can assure you, and that's what makes life a ridiculous and brief drama. But the fact remains that I have killed five young women, three of whom are buried in the hothouse: Carol, Mary, Margaret. They were the friendliest, the most attractive ones. There is one problem. I must go on wielding the cleaver. It's most annoying. But when I begin to hear the footsteps... those stealthy footsteps... I know I must kill. And I shall have to keep on killing, until I find out the whole truth. That's it: until I find out the whole truth."

[snowyowlee]

Definitely!

They're all wearing yellow bibs, does it mean that everyone is the World Cup leader?

[madamealys]

Imagine Aemond and Aegon Targaryen take you as their wife. (+21)

***

The king is on the throne room, listening to the babbling of his nobles. Today’s topic concerns the marriage of his sons. Since the queen only delivered him boys, Viserys is not inclined to search for a bride that is not a Targaryen. And despite the strong protests of his wife, there is a good solution for it that might also appeal to his brother, Daemon, as well as that follows the Targaryen tradition: betrothing his daughter to Aegon.

In the meantime this occurs, whilst the solution is agreed between the king and the council, no one can foretell what a simple arrangement might result. And so whilst they are leaving in discussions concerning Aemond’s betrothal, let us take a look at what is happening outside these quarters.

Notwithstanding the fact that you are the daughter of the feared and powerful Daemon Targaryen, who took residence at Dragonstone with his sister-wife Rhaenyra Targaryen, you are everything he is not.

Sweet tempered, gentle, kindhearted and good. Your wit is as sharp as any sword, your tongue, when provoked, cut as hard as any iron. You are patient, often tolerant to others flaws. This makes you a great companion to all.

As the only daughter of Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra, it does surprise to those who know them for a long while that you came up with a different personality. Regardless, they spoil you and only want the best for you. And Daemon knows that by the time of your marriage age, he is not marrying you to anyone. Perhaps your father is aiming higher than you know.

You’ve grown close to your brothers: Jace being close to you in age has always been your twin. But you were also close to Luce, a sort of mother to Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon. Being the only lady amidst these men also meant that you were very protective by them.

Now years went by and you are a well formed women, whose uncle requested you to spend some time at court—probably in ignorance of the plans arranged for you between him and your parents.

Your oldest brother, Jacaerys, is already married to his cousin Baela Velaryon, all the whilst Lucerys is married to her sister, Rhaena. Joffrey is betrothed to Sara Stark, and even Viserys and Aegon are about to be betrothed to some good noble lady. You remain unmarried, though.

This idea does not occupy your thoughts for many times since you prefer to spend your time helping your mother, with whom you are very close, and flying your dragon, Dreamfyre. Due to your introspective and intense nature, it is in the air where you feel mostly… free and wild, a side you like to keep to yourself.

But ever since you’ve been summoned by the king, you suspect your liberty and wilderness are about to be end. Resigned to your sense of duty—for duty means to sacrifice who you are, or part of it anyways—, you speak nothing of the matter.

“Remember, my daughter, who you truly are”, your mother, who is carrying another child in her belly, speaks to you in the day you are departing to King’s Landing next to your father. “A Targaryen, no more, no less. Equal to all.”

You understand that she and the Queen Alicent do not always see eye to eye. The subtle warning is there, but you too have your share of pride. You smile.

“I shall not disappoint you, mother.”

“I know you won’t. You are my daughter, every bit of me is in you.”

That saying, Rhaenyra kisses your forehead and you are finally ready to leave.

***

Aegon is waiting impatiently for his betrothal. With Aemond by his side, both brothers can only conjecture about the cousin whom they last saw when everyone was a toddler. Both recollect you differently: Aegon judged you as a child who had weird interests; but Aemond understood you as someone who had a very interesting side underneath a gentle demeanor.

“I hope you do your duty well, Aegon”, muses Aemond thoughtfully.

“How else should I do? I am the heir to the Iron Throne. I am not allowed to forget that”, and then Aegon shoots an amusing glance to his younger brother. “What a shame the crown cannot be shared with you, though.”

Aemond limits himself to a roll of eyes, but Aegon knows he agrees with his sarcastic remark. But soon they are distracted of their small talk for the heavy iron doors of the Red Keep are about to open, with the King’s herald announcing your name and your father’s.

Every sound dies before such announcement, but what matters is how you are seen by your betrothed. Aegon looks astonished by the woman you’ve blossomed to. Your silver locks tied in perfectly braid seem to reinforce your heart-shaped face, whose intent lilac eyes mirror innocence.

Your rosy lips open shyly in an inviting smile, and Aegon cannot help wonder what it would be like to kiss you. It doesn’t really help that your black gown reinforces your curves.

Aemond too cannot help lingering his gaze on you. A damsel in every sense of the word, you are like a character of the novels he used to read as a child. Fond memories of the time spent together in this period rush in the back of his mind.

Lovely as always, he thinks to himself, suddenly aching for the idea of never having you. But… he cannot help himself either, can he? Must Aemond be the second in everything, a shadow of his brother?

“Greetings, niece!”, King Viserys smiles down at his brother’a child. He leaves the table to greet you properly, and Daemon is smirking proudly in response. The rogue prince is more than aware of the attentions you caught, specially of two royal princes, which only fuels his ego.

His ambitions will fruit, he knows.

“Your Grace, my uncle”, you dip to a curtsy. “I appreciate your warm welcome.”

“Soon we will be united as one once again. Tradition shall follow like has always been dictated since the days of Old Valyria”, boasts King Viserys. “Y/N is such a pearl, brother. How on earth did you manage to produce a lovely daughter?”

“A question I often ask myself, brother”, says Daemon, proudly. “She is my only girl, very precious to us. We don’t expect a marriage that is below of the prize she is.”

“Father!”, you protest shyly.

“Don’t be too humble, daughter. It’s the true”, he smirks at you, gently ruffling your hair. “We must always be aware of who we are.”

“Then let us celebrate this union. I notice our sister hasn’t come. What happened?”

“Rhaenyra is heavily pregnant, in due time to labor now.”

Whilst they exchange amenities, you are heading to your seat when Aegon comes to greet you. This tall, handsome man, whose looks mirror yours, astonishes you with such a charm that your knees go weak.

It doesn’t really help your case that Aemond is promptly joined by his side. You blush.

“My lords”, you curtsy graciously. “I appreciate the warm welcome.”

“My lady”, greets Aegon, pompously. “How different you look.”

“Forgive my brother”, subtly Aemond meddles in the conversation. “He lacks gallantry when it comes to words. You have grown to a beautiful woman, cousin.”

You detest how the presence of these two men affect you. Worse, that not only your betrothed allures you, but so does his brother.

Aegon flushes, irritated with how poetic Aemond is towards you.

“How could I when a beauty like our dear Y/N stands before us? A mortal could not voice out the most proper form to express such an awe.”

“Oh, please. I am unworthy of these praises though I deeply appreciate them. Shall we enjoy the rest of the evening together? I have missed the company of you both for a while.”

You smile. And soon subtle rivalries dissolve. How could they deny you anything?

***

It’s been a curious, unspoken agreement that you arranged with Aegon and Aemond. The mornings are spent with the latter and the evenings with the former. The evening you spend by your soon to be mother-in-law, whom you manage to charm.

Today, you are flying with Aemond. You come to figure out how you two have lots in common: the same taste for history, philosophy, art and even politics. Not to mention, dragons, of course.

“You are nothing like your father”, muses the quiet prince, once you two land the dragons somewhere nearby a lake, out of the people’s sight.

“This is something I hear often”, you smile at him, eyeing his handsomeness even though part of you admonishes for desiring a man who is not going to be your husband. “But we have some traits we share. Like the taste for wilderness. We are not easily tamed.”

“I’ve always sensed you had something of the sorts in you, Y/N. You pose as the good lady, but are you?”

“I am dutiful”, you say. “I do my duties. Never claimed or aimed to be perfect.”

“Neither have I, even though my dutiful performances have been somewhat misinterpreted”, he snorts.

Before you know, you take his hand in yours. Unconsciously, fingers are laced.

“I think you’ve been misunderstood for a very long time, dear Aem. And I wish so many of us saw that.”

Silence hangs for a while. You and him share a long gaze. You find yourself wishing he kissed you, but Aemond knows his place. He looks away and withdraws his hand. Never before you felt so cold. So you sigh.

***

All the whilst you engage in conversations with the Queen, learning queenship from Lady Alicent herself, Aegon finds Aemond in the corner of the court, observing you with a mix of admiration and distrust.

“If this was about to any other man, I’d have him hanged for looking at such a manner to my wife”, says Aegon, amused.

Aemond has the decency of blush and look away.

“Pardon me for prying, brother.”

“What is there to be pardoned? She is a handsome woman, I give you that. Like honey, too sweet to avert the gaze away”, says Aegon, encouraging his brother to share. “Rumour has it that Aegon shared Visenya with his Baratheon brother.”

Aemond scoffs.

“Visenya wouldn’t play this part, surely. You must be mistaking to Rhaenys.”

“Either one, they shared her, didn’t they? And like my namesake, Aegon was no jealous man.”

The one-eyed prince turns his head to his older brother, intrigued by the subtle suggestion.

“What the fuck are you trying to say, Aegon? Straight to the point if you may.”

Aegon smirks at him.

“I think that, since she likes you too, we should both take Y/N as our wife.”

***

Aegon awaits you this evening in his privy chambers. He’s been anxious for this moment, even though with his mother’s strong presence at court, he didn’t have any moment alone with you aside of public courtship.

A knock of the door is heart, taking away of his thoughts. The prince of Dragonstone stands, concealing his unusual insecurity. When he opens it, he is struck at the thought of you.

So beautiful in the green color, your full breasts almost out of the tight gown you purposely chose to reinforce your curves. The desire alight in Aegon’s eyes makes you dripping wet in your legs, but you know this is the farthest you go to tease him.

Right?

“My prince”, you dip to a curtsy as you walk inside the door, shivering when hearing the click that locks it behind you.

“My princess”, he then takes the chair for you to sit and makes sure to pour red wine in your glass before serving you himself.

When earning you a smile, Aegon forgets that he one day was the charmer, never the charmed.

“You look gorgeous, cousin.”

“I could say the same about you, lord. Thank you. I’ve been looking forward to hearing more of you, out of the prickly ears of the court”, you tell him.

“Indeed. Formalities are not my thing, I’m afraid. But at least the king has been noticing me”, Aegon doesn’t usually open himself this way and when noticing what bursted out of his tongue, he prefers to occupy himself with wine.

You do notice, though, and try to captivate him by sharing something about you.

“Despite being close to my family, I was raised to be somebody else’s wife. I know I was not allowed to choose my heart, even if my parents did.”

Aegon reads you, you spot some early distrust despite the mutual attraction. You feel eager to please him, but you hold back yourself. Eventually he settles.

“I do lament that I am your groom and not Aemond.”

You blush, but do not fly away of the subtle accusation.

“Well, I was always closer to Aemond in age and in interests, my dear, but this does not mean I regret that you are the one I will espouse.”

His slander fingers play on top of the table, and you find yourself holding your breath. When does this tension suddenly come up?

The stare he gives you pierces your soul and you know that, if he wanted you to, you’d be on his knees before him, pledging innocence. But why does the mere image of you in this position arouse you?

“I am hard to love”, muses Aegon, resented. “I am by no means jealous of you and Aemond, but…”

And your anxiety takes your best, of course. You rush to his side and take his hands into yours, surprising him by the urge of your usual composed manners.

“My prince, my liege, you are no hard to love. Your smile enchants me, your eyes read my soul like no other. Your jokes bring a smile to my lips, your good manners give me the certainty that I am not marrying a monster.”

“How can you be certain of this?”, Aegon inquires, puzzled.

“We are lights and shadows. I saw both of them in you and I still choose you.”

He knows you speak the truth, so he lifts you and pinning against the wall, Aegon kisses you. You realize you’ve been longing for this kiss, wishing to feel the taste of his mouth, to pair your tongue with his.

Your husband to be is as sinful as you are a saint. And yet you let him have his way with you. Soon, his mouth is on your neck and sounds start to leave yours.

“My beautiful princess”, Aegon works to kiss your chest, almost ripping your gown with his teeth to get into your breasts.

“Calm down, lord. I need to get to my chambers in whole state”, you smirk at him.

And it’s when you are surprised by how easily he slips to his knees, his lustful eyes wiping off your smirk.

“L-Lord…”

“I want to hear you call my name, Y/N”, he lifts the skirts of your gown, caressing your paled thighs. “I want you to sleep thinking of me doing this to you. Rewarding for being such a good princess.”

And he at first inserts his finger in you, getting you aroused. You are surprised to find yourself so wet, as well as he.

“Never before untouched?”, Aegon asks you, sounding too anxious.

“Never”, you moan, eyelashes barely lift as you search support in the wall. Your hips begin to follow his finger, and you get scandalously louder as his finger finds deeper ways to get to your core.

Aegon watches you in awe and lust, ignoring the bone he has for being the reason you are coming undone—and not Aemond. Though he wills to share with his brother, he knows that ultimately the prize of having you like this is his.

“Let me ruin you”, he groans before replacing his fingers with his mouth.

His tongue dives into your womanhood, twirling around your clot before sucking it skillfully. You are breathless, burning, aching for this prince. Your mind goes blank and all you can think is of this blissful experience of being ruined by this man to whom you are expected to marry.

He drinks every juice he can of you, not stopping until you are about to release. And when you think you do, he removes his face away and stands in absolutely composed.

“Aegon!”, you protest, vexed to be left this way.

“You don’t think I’ve noticed how you teased me?”, he smirks, approaching to you. “We will fuck you, my lady. My brother and I. You wait and you will see.”

Never before you got so pink before.

And when Aegon smiles devilish to you, you are surprised by your own thoughts of wishing this to be true.

***

Aemond is practicing his sword this day when he spots you at a corner, unaccompanied. The one-eyed prince, who happens to be shirtless in this lonely practice, tosses away the sword to greet you in a gentleman like manner.

“My lady Y/N”, he doesn’t mind to get a shirt and dress when you stare at his perfect abs, which makes him smirk. “To what do I get the honor of your presence?”

“Aegon has departed to Citadel to visit Daeron”, you tell him, trying to control your impulses. “The queen forbade me to follow him. She said I’m under your charge, lord.”

Aemond moves from the yard to get to you. You find yourself holding your breath at the proximity of him. Suddenly both arms lock you against the wall.

“Are you now?”, and here he lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Are you playing with us, my lady? Have you been instructed to turn me against my brother?”

Though he sees he’s offended you by the suggestion, Aemond does not take back what he said. And even though you are annoyed by these unflattering words, you don’t run from a fight either.

“You may call me many things, my prince, even though I judged you to know me better than this. But I am no home wrecker.”

And here he pins you against the wall, much to your dismay. He begins to unlace your gown, completely not fearful of being caught. And you barely protest, already dripping wet by how he presses his knee against your womanhood.

“Who am I to judge?”, he lowers his gaze to your mouth, your neck and your breasts. “These are lovely nipples, Y/N.”

You’d have decency covered them, but guessing your moves have Aemond hold your wrists above your head. You are at his mercy and he knows it.

“My brother told me about the gowns you wear, aware of how they reinforce each. But he did let me take a look at them before him.”

A sensible person would have been horrified for being in this position, but you feel aroused by this. To know they wish you like you wish them makes you warm.

As if he reads your mind, Aemond starts to caressing your right nipple, pleased to see you horny.

“Aemond…”, you moan.

Naughty that he is, underneath that dutiful demeanor he puts so well to the public, it’s this prince who speaks dirty to your ear.

“You will be fucked so well, my love, that you shall not have to choose, I promise you. Aegon and I have always shared what we loved the most”, and saying so he bites down your ear. “I will fuck your pussy until you burn and you will feel it with my being. The first born son will be mine, though. I know it.”

And then his indecent tongue paces around your lips only to get to your neck and then…

“Aemond!!”

Like a thirsty prince, he sucks each nipple, biting it, craving it desperately. You want more, you are doomed, you know well. Your pious conscience accuses you of whoring, but nothing is stronger than giving yourself to this prince.

But of course Aemond has to interrupt it.

“We best not get caught”, he whispers, smirking victorious before the protest you shoot him in a gaze. “I thought you liked it, no?”

You pull him for one long kiss, though, and every lust is carefully put aside as Aemond, albeit hesitantly, kisses you back.

Not long after that, the rogue prince realizes that he left more than lust in the taste of your tongue.

***

The marriage, albeit scandalous, happens. Fortune rises underneath tradition. Some might say this is Aegon and his wives in other forms, back to the flesh in another version… certainly a good omen for those who believe in old stories.

Feasts and tournaments are thrown by the king and his brother to celebrate this unique union, never before seen until the day Aegon espoused his two sister wives.

“I hope that you know what you are doing”, says Rhaenyra at this day of your marriage. “These are wayward boys, one of whom nearly got into a fight with Lucerys.”

“I remember that night well, mother”, you try not to sound so irritating at your mother’s grudge. “This is not the time to speak of what has long been buried in the past. If I recall well, they have amended their relationship and all is well, as it should be.”

“I only worry over you, my daughter.”

You gently place a kiss over your mother’s face and smile at her.

“I aim as high as any Targaryen would in my position.”

“As ambitious as your father”, so chuckles Rhaenyra.

“I am his daughter too, after all.”

And you two smile in confidence.

***

Later that evening, bedding ceremony begins. You want both of your husbands there in your chamber. And when they show up, you cannot believe your eyes.

“Lady Y/N, you are beautiful”, says Aegon, already partially naked. He’s the one to pull you, making sure you stand between him and Aemond.

You feel Aemond’s cold hands rest in your hips, giving you shivers.

“We have all been longing for this, haven’t we?”, he murmurs in turn.

You turn your head at him, barely blinking as he is about to kiss you but this moment is stolen by Aegon, who plants his lips against yours. It’s a slow kiss, peppering for what’s coming all the whilst Aemond slowly lifts your nightgown, caressing gently your tits before removing it over your head.

“I am too fortunate, I’m afraid”, you whisper before stroking Aegon’s face. “Such handsome men.”

You kiss him back before breaking it to do the same with Aemond. Now Aegon leans to kiss your neck, whilst his brother plays with your tits.

You get hornier and naughtier, moaning softly before these teasings.

“There’s no need to play the good girl anymore, Y/N”, says Aemond, biting down your lip.

“Indeed”, and here Aegon pulls back your hair as his brother inserts his finger in your womanhood. “We will ruin you, won’t we, Aemond?”

You gasp as Aemond fucks you with his finger, trying not to lose control as Aegon kisses your neck and plays with your tits again.

“We will, indeed. But I need a reward for all this waiting…”

“We both need it”, agrees Aegon. “Show us what you are capable of, Y/N.”

So indecently you go down to your knees. Your eyes spark bright when looking at each erected manhood, unsure what to choose first until you start to caress Aemond’s all the whilst giving the privilege to Aegon’s.

You come to agree with both of them. You are hardly a saint, or divine by any means. You lust after each, and you devour these cocks with devotion. Pausing in between, you let them guide you.

It’s indecent, it’s sinful, but you like this. And so do they.

“Let us treat our princess kindly”, says Aegon, leading you to bed. “Not sparing my seed in these red lips…”

And here he uses his two fingers to play with your mouth, which you promptly devour. Only then he inserts them into your womanhood. Oh, how condemned you are. Such is the price for loving these wayward brothers.

“You may go, brother. I will watch”, says Aemond.

His voice purrs something in you and you find yourself a beggar. Where has your pride gone to? Oh, nowhere to be found.

“My lord!”, you push Aegon to your lips, so you kiss him fiercely and passionately. “Please!”

Aegon smiles like a lion, aware that he has the prey he wants under his power. Thus it is he finally makes way to penetrate you, deflowering his beautiful flower after years of repressing his desire for you.

In the meantime you and Aegon consume this flame, Aemond burns alone, touching his manhood before the scene he watches, which in turn wakes in him darkest desires. He wants to possess you, to make you his, to dispute over your flesh, to hear you call his name.

But there is something powerful in delegating this to Aegon, submitting to his brother’s will even here.

As Aegon collapses over you, he doesn’t let his brother to waste his seed. Though your womanhood is sensitive, you ache for more. They know you are as hungry as they are.

Aemond doesn’t need to be summoned. He crawls over your body, and here with no eyepatch to cover his eye, you stare at old wounds, at his taunted gaze covered by a beautiful sapphire.

“Fuck me”, you mewl under his powerful stare. “Aemond…”

He is gentle at first. Slow is his touch over your curves, taking his time in holding your face, drinking on your pleading eyes as he cups your nipples, touching each until they are hardened enough to make you beg. Only then he bends over you, kissing you passionately, prompted to release his fire.

It’s indeed a very wild evening. Soon Aegon comes to dispute you. Suddenly all of the three are sitting in bed, and you are in heaven. Standing in between them, your husbands’ mouth devour your exposed skin, and new levels of pleasure are disclosed as you are under their power.

Neither part dares to stop what’s been doing however until you throw your head back at Aemond’s shoulder and let a cry out.

“The dragon lady has burnt”, so whispers Aegon in your ear, watching as Aemond kisses you softly.

What a night. Oh what a night indeed. And you couldn’t have been happily married, could you?

***

Epilogue.

What has started as a lustful game between the three parts soon results in a successful partnership. You do love each brother and they love you in turn.

To a general astonishment, this works like in Aegon I’s days. You rule court, playing your part well. Welcoming guests with your smile and good manners, much of which you’ve learned from the former Queen, who actually cares for you like a daughter she never had.

All is well. You are Daemon Targaryen’s daughter after all. Peace is established successfully and familial relationships are restored. Soon, your brothers are back to frequent court with their wives whom you delight to call sisters.

In due time, you prove to be as fertile as your lady mother. You produce fifteen children, not many of which come to adulthood. These are:

1. Jaehaerys II, who takes as his wife his sister; had offspring of their own.

2. Rhaenyra, wife of Jaehaerys.

3. Maegor, lord of Harrenhal; he first took as espouse his sister, Daella, but she died in childbirth; then he contracted a new marriage to Minisa Tully.

4. Maekar, lord of Summerhall: took as wife his sister, Rhaena.

5. Rhaegar, died in infancy, known as Prince of Winter.

6. Rhaena, Lady of Summerhall; wife to Maekar.

7. Baela, lady of High Garden.

8. Daeron, became a Maester at Citadel.

9. Aerys, lord Hightower; married lady Gaena Tyrell.

10. Helaena, lady of Winterfell.

11. Mariah, died in infancy.

12. Visenya, lady of Casterly Rock.

13. Daenys, lady Arryn.

14. Viserys, ward of the West.

15. Alys, Viserys’s twin and wife.

***

“You are still as gorgeous as ever”, whispers Aegon in your ear.

It’s late evening and both of your husbands are found in your arms. You still shiver at how King Aegon speaks to you, how he plays with your tits. You purr lightly.

“Oh Egg, you know not what you speak”, you giggle quietly. “Despite my efforts in looking elegant to you and Aemond, I gave birth to fifteen children.”

He plants a kiss over your forehead, careful in not waking Aemond, who sleeps against your left breast. From certain perspective, you three are engulfed in one another.

“I maintain my word. When did I ever look out of our bed, wife?”, says he, once very familiar amidst brothels before marrying you.

You turn at him with malice in your eyes as you speak.

“No whore does what you taught me to do to you”, you smirk.

Aegon sighs heavily, sinking into your lips again.

“Always restless.”

You chuckle.

“Not always”, you lean against his chest. “But I have been blessed, that is for sure.”

As you stroke Aemond’s hair, you slowly drift to sleep, glad that Aegon is looking after you.

“Haven’t we all?”

Chroniclers maliciously say you’ve married Aegon out of duty and Aemond out of pleasure, but what do men know of a woman’s heart? You love them both, with no difference of affections. And you are more than pleased to know they are not jealous when it’s about you.

It’s how it works. Tradition, power, yes. But love and confidence too.

You sleep this evening like you slept many others in the former twenty moons: as the luckiest woman of the Seven Realms.

[etherealstar-writes]

PAINTBALL | ARSENAL WOMEN X READER

pairings: arsenal women x reader

summary: in which you're involved in a chaotic paintball battle with your friends

warnings: none

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

Beth gasped as you shoved Katie down, taking a hit to the chest. 

"I've got her!" Katie yelled, dragging you to safety and checked your pulse. "She's still alive!" 

"Of course she is," Viv mumbled, taking aim and shooting Leah in the leg as she ran into the open. "This isn't a real battle." 

You sat up, giving Katie a thumbs up. "Just paintball, Katie." 

Beth shrieked as a series of paintballs hit the towers behind her and Viv, both of them ducking down. 

"Give it a shot." Katie nudged you with her gun and you nodded. 

Rolling onto your knees, you poked your head above the small fort and spotted Kyra with two paintball handguns. "What! Where did she get those? Not fair." 

You closed one eye and aimed before pulling the trigger as three paintballs shot out and hit Kyra along her shoulders and arms. "Ha!"

"Get down!" Viv chided you three, getting back to her position. "If you stay up too long, you'll-" 

A pink paintball was splattered behind them with paint flying everywhere and added to the array of colours in Viv’s and Beth's hair. 

"AH!" Viv swore under her breath in Dutch.

"Viv, no! Wait!" Beth tried to grab Viv and pull her down, but she was already standing and shooting randomly at where Kyra, Leah, Caitlin, and Lia were hiding. 

Caitlin jumped up and made it one step forward before paintballs were pelted at her everywhere. And while everyone was distracted targeting poor Caitlin, Kyra rolled out, aiming her gun and shot Viv in the chest. 

"Vivi, nooo!" Beth dramatically wailed out. 

She yanked Viv down, half cradling, half strangling her while Viv tried to break free. "Oi! Let me go! I'm fine! I'm not dead!" 

Beth wiped away a fake tear. "In the world of paintball, you are." 

As Viv rolled her eyes at Beth's melodramatic display, the three of you huddled together, plotting your next move. The battlefield was filled with laughter and shouts as paintball pellets whizzed through the air. 

You wiped a streak of paint off your cheek and exchanged determined glances with Katie and Beth.

"We need a strategy," you said, your voice low. "We can't let them take us down one by one."

Katie nodded, her eyes scanning the field. "Let's focus on Lia and Caitlin first. They seem to work well together, and if we eliminate one of them, the other will be easier to handle."

Beth sniffled theatrically, still cradling Viv. "Vivi, my love, we shall avenge you! We will paint the field with the colours of victory! Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

Viv couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Just make sure you actually hit them, unlike the sorry attempt you made to save me."

The three of you broke into laughter, and once the giggles subsided, you set your plan into motion. Sneaking through the field, you took cover behind barricades and crates, moving stealthily towards Lia and Caitlin's position.

As you approached, you signalled to Katie and Beth to be ready. With a coordinated attack, you emerged from cover, firing a series of paintballs at Lia and Caitlin. The two opponents fought valiantly, but your combined assault overwhelmed them. 

Lia was the first to go down, her colourful attire now adorned with splatters of paint. Caitlin, still defiant, tried to retaliate, but Beth, channelling her inner warrior, charged forward and unleashed a flurry of paintball fury. Caitlin's resistance crumbled, and she joined Lia in paint-covered defeat.

"Two down!" Katie exclaimed, exchanging triumphant high-fives with you and Beth. "Now, Leah is next."

You regrouped, strategising your approach to take down Leah, who was proving to be a formidable opponent. 

“You can’t get me, losers!” Leah yelled out as she sprinted away from you.

“Don’t be so sure about that!” With a combination of flanking manoeuvres and coordinated attacks, you managed to corner Leah. And with a well-aimed shot, she had no choice but to surrender to the colourful onslaught.

“Hah! Take that, Williamson!” You jumped in joy while Leah playfully glared at you as she was dramatically sprawled out on the floor. “Who’s the loser now?”

Your little victory was cut short when dramatic gasps were heard from Beth and Katie. While you’d been busy with Leah, Kyra had taken the chance to sneak up behind those two and had surprised them with a rapid blast of paintballs.

“Gotcha!” Kyra exclaimed, grinning at her successful ambush as those two went down. “It’s only me and you now, Y/n!”

The battlefield was now eerily quiet, with only the distant sounds of laughter and shouts from other ongoing matches. You and Kyra were the last ones standing, facing off against each other. 

"Ready to surrender, Kyra?" You called out, crouching behind a makeshift barricade.

Kyra's laughter echoed across the field. "Not a chance, Y/n! I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve."

The two of you engaged in a lively exchange of paintball shots, dodging and weaving through the obstacles. Paint splatters filled the air as the vibrant colours painted the battlefield. The tension between you and Kyra was palpable, but there was also a shared sense of enjoyment in the competition.

As the battle raged on, you managed to catch Kyra off guard with a well-timed shot. A burst of laughter erupted from your lips as the paintballs landed on her, covering her shoulders and arms.

"I gotcha, Kyra!" You exclaimed, revelling in the sweet taste of victory.

Kyra dramatically staggered, clutching her chest in mock defeat. "Noooo!"

Theatrically, she collapsed to the ground while your teammates rushed to join you, cheering and celebrating the hard-fought victory. Beth and Katie, still covered in paint, embraced you, and Viv playfully patted you on the back.

"You did it, Y/n!" Beth laughed. "You've avenged us all!"

You then approached Kyra with a playful grin, offering her a hand. "You put up a great fight."

Kyra took your hand, pulling herself up with a grin. "You too, Y/n. You got me this time, but I won’t let you win next time."

The two of you chuckled and joined your friends, huddling together for a group photo that you no doubt would cherish deeply.

[sinful-lanterns]

000 nsfw hcs...? Pretty please, thats all i want for christmas (even though christmas is like over rn 😔😔

Christmas has been long over by the time I got around to answering this post, but I shall deliver what you want, anon! Zero NSFW headcanons coming right up, happy late Christmas gift! 🩷

NSFW under the cut:

ZERO/000 NSFW HEADCANONS:

- Zero is a switch, a chaotic switch to be exact. She can become a dom or a sub depending on what you want on a whim, and she isn’t picky at about what position you want her in. Top or bottom is fine with her, even sideways!

- I headcanon that she is able to alter her appearance to be anything you want. You never ask her to be a specific person, however you can ask her to morph into creatures like tentacle monsters, werewolves, etc. if you are into that. She can do it.

- Her glitchiness is very fun during sex, but also kinda annoying for Zero. If she tries to cum in you (if she has a dick) sometimes when she orgasms, she gets so caught up in the pleasure that she glitches out of you and her cum sprays all over your back/stomach. Getting pregnant from Zero is hard 😭

- Same thing for when you are trying to fuck her. If you’re folding her in half on your strap or fingering her, Zero will cum so hard she glitches you out of her.

- You both have fucked middair once. Well, it was more so like levitating a few inches off the ground while Zero held you from behind, but it counts. She can screw you while flying and simply adores the sight of your legs dangling and your cum dripping onto a small puddle on the floor.

- Zero is an exhibitionist. She will find any excuse to fuck you in public, shoving you into a storage closet or playing handsy with you in the movie theaters. She loves the risk of potentially getting caught.

- Zero likes to make you wear buttplugs that have a tail attached. Considering her feline-like traits, she seems to have a kink for dressing you up in animal ears and tails. (The mouse is her favorite to put on you)

- Zero is a scratcher. She bites, sure. But in order to mark you as hers she likes to claw up any inch of skin she can find, whether it’s your back, shoulders, thighs…

- Despite being very possessive over you, she is open to the idea of a threesome, but only with women she likes. F! Chief, Moore and L.L. are the only ones she’ll allow in the bedroom with you, and maybe Rise if she’s feeling extra generous.

[delafiseaseses]

Y'know what I think makes Jeannie May Crawford stand out so much amongst Fallout villains? Not just the fact she's associated with Boone and one of the horrors he's dealt with, but because she's different than most other Fallout villains, big or small.

[I'm not gonna be going into the cut Ghoul bigotry in Come Fly With Me even though it supports me point, as that is, well, cut and therefore not-canonical actions. Though it is in-line with her other behaviour.]

I know why Jeannie May feels different to me. She's an advocate of Normality. What do I mean by that? Well, it's simple. Her motive for her Big Evil Action is pretty clearly the fact that Carla didn't like Novac and was overall an annoyance to her status quo. The perfection of her town. Her "little desert oasis". Jeannie May is basically the leader of Novac. She owns the Dino-Dee Lite and by extension the entire town. To her badmouthing Novac is badmouthing her and that is a crime she cannot stand. No punishment is too great. Carla and her unborn child deserve to suffer, in her mind. She knows what the Legion do to women, but she didn't care.

But it doesn't just stop there. That's the thing. She doesn't just hate people disliking Novac. Jeannie May also resents the idea of people not being very social as Alice McBride says this "Oh, we keep to ourselves, for the most part. Try not to pry. I think Jeannie May gets bothered that we aren't more sociable, but it's just our way. Ain't that we don't appreciate what she's done, managing this town like she has, but I worry she feels that way anyhow." the McBrides were probably not at risk of the Carla-treatment, but who knows what Crawford would've done to them if she got too upset at their lack of sociability.

Oh, also, the reason she kept the document that got her killed? 500 caps. That's it. In the Bill of Sale it says "Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document." considering Jeannie May is a landlord to so many people that sum has to be nothing to her. The entire 1500 caps was nothing. But she was confident, arrogant. Nobody would discover her actions. Boone's suspicions wouldn't go anywhere (and he'd never suspect her). It was her town and she was safe in it. Everyone was unable to see past her act (except No-Bark if you believe that one thing he says is an indication he knows something is off about her).

Of course, when you're so confident that you'll never be caught, the thought never enters your mind anyone will find out. The only thing that enters your mind is... a .308 round.