#WARS FINISHED IT WHILE KEEPING GUARD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

risuola · 4 months

Text

INFINITY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

When was the last time you slept? You couldn't tell, but Satoru was determined to get you to rest.

cw: slightly angsty if you squint, just idiots in love unable to communicate properly, death mentioned (the usual jjk content) — 1,3k words

a/n: i'm going through my wips, finishing them finally and posting, don't mind me ❥

“When was the last time you slept?”

Satoru’s soft voice entered your mind and brought it back to reality. You were exhausted, having no sleep for few days already. Your eyes felt heavy, your mind was foggy and as you tried to push through the fatigue, you struggled to concentrate on even the simplest tasks. Everything felt like it’s taking twice as much effort as usual and more and more often you were catching yourself at making silly mistakes that you wouldn’t normally do. It was probably the fact you were standing at the little kitchen unit in the hotel room you share with Gojo for the mission, and the cup you were trying to fill with water overflown already.

“Shit,” you cussed quietly, putting down the kettle and grabbing the roll of paper towels, knocking a bottle while you reached next to it. Of course it was open and another portion of liquid spilled all over the counter and the floor.

“Hey, whoa, I’ll deal with it,” the strongest was quick to take everything from your hands, smiling in amusement at the soft groan that escaped your mouth. “So? When did you sleep last time?”

“I don’t remember,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose. The job you had been assigned was taking everything from you and it wasn’t because it was hard. It really wasn’t much above the ordinary and your partner turns every task into a child’s play, but it was the unpredictability of the curses you were targeting that made you go without sleep for a week already. You had at most four hours of rest, broken into short naps when you just passed out and now, you were awake for 43 hours straight. It was taking a toll on your mind and body, the fatigue was like a weight on your shoulders, making your movements sluggish and your thoughts slow.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes aggressively, a desperate attempt to wipe away the foggy haze from your sight. It’s been some time since you don’t see clearly anymore, your brain was pulling tricks on you and though you couldn’t blame it for that, you also wished it to keep up for just a little longer

“Go to sleep,” Gojo told you, wiping away the water that you spilled all over the kitchen area. “I’ll deal with anything that might pop up,” he reassured, though his tone was everything but caring. He was teasing you, his playful nature and smugness fronting in his behavior as always. He wasn’t bothered by the mission, he was doing his job flawlessly and frankly, you were sent with him only to make sure people around are safe because Satoru has a habit of not caring too much about casualties.

“You know I can’t do that,” a groan from you only made the man chuckle. You were in the middle of war – it felt like it, at least – there was a plague of curses, most of them reaching first grade, day after day appearing in bigger quantities and it was straight up way too dangerous to let yourself to drift away. Last time you managed to close your eyes for a little longer than an hour, one of the demons broke into the hotel you were staying in and nearly killed you. It seemed like they were just waiting for the right moment to attack, when your guard is down and you’re vulnerable and you knew that once you fall asleep, you’re not going to wake up on time. Even if Gojo was volunteering to fight, you were convinced the moment he’d step away from you, you’d be dead. And that was the last position on your wishlist.

“I told you I’ll take care of the curses while you’re sleeping, don’t be so dense,” the strongest just shrugged, seemingly unbothered but the grin was ghosting over his lips, making you wish you could wipe it off his stupid handsome face. While you were suffering, Satoru was sleeping just fine, not caring about a thing because he didn’t need to care about being in danger when he always had a nice, protective layer of damn infinity around himself. The world could be burning and not a single spark would reach his sleeping form. Rest was a luxury he was able to afford during this mission and sadly, you couldn’t because once you’re not awake and ready to protect yourself, you’ll be swiped off the board.

“Why would you even bother, huh?” You snapped, not sparing him a look while you approached the window. The streets seemed oddly calm, now as dark as the sky above them, and you wished it would stay normal for the next hours so you would have one less thing to deal with during the night time.

Truth is, the very fact of sharing a job with Gojo is a curse in itself, one impossible to exorcise and it was taking every bit of professionalism that you had in you to just push through it. Your relation with the honored one is difficult. It’s complicated and straight up unpleasant, it seemed like you were stuck in an endless cycle of bickering. Every conversation seemed to turn into an argument, and every disagreement seemed to escalate into a full-blown fight. It was exhausting, emotionally and mentally, it was straining but no matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t manage to break the pattern and instead, you just kept going around in circles. The words you spoke to each other were getting increasingly cutting and the anger was growing with each passing day. Even when you did manage to reach a solution, it was always a matter of time before another conflict would arise and you’d be back to square one. It was as if you were trapped in a maze, with no clear path to a peaceful co-existence and that was enough reason for you to be convinced that Gojo would be the last person on earth worrying about your well-being.

“I don’t want you to die on me because of the lack of sleep, come one,” he shrugged, throwing away the wet paper towels and joining you near the window. “Rest, I’ll stay awake.”

“I’ll get myself a coffee,” you said, not convinced at all. Truth is, only few times you allowed yourself to pass out was when Satoru was awake, because you wouldn’t dare to close your eyes when he was sleeping himself, but you couldn’t trust him. And you’d feel horrible if you made him stay awake just so you can sleep.

“No, seriously, no coffee for you,” he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled towards the bed.

“Gojo, do you not understand—”

“Shhh,” he hushed, manhandling you onto the mattress, forcing your shoes off and gathering the covers to tuck you in as if you were a child.

“I hate you…” Was all you could mumble. It was a torture. The soft pillows underneath your head and warm comforter were so perfect, so inviting for you to just let yourself drift off. You wished to let the heavy eyelids down, to give your eyes the rest they need and allow your brain to reset and clear. You felt like your body was betraying you, the exhaustion was seeping into your bones, making it impossible to move.

“Yeah, yeah,” to your surprise, Gojo pushed his own boots off as well and in a moment he was in bed with you, sharing sheets and pulling you towards himself. “Now, here. You are now inside my infinity. You’re safe, sleep.”

Infinity. It felt safe, suddenly, but was it because of infinity or the man that now had his arms wrapped around you? You couldn’t tell and frankly, you couldn’t speak either, so you just hummed something in response as the sleep has taken you away.

1K notes · View notes

perlelune · 9 days

Text

Oblivion | Paul Atreides

There used to be beginnings and ends, nights and days, dream and reality, before the haze took over, swallowing every thought, every memory, every whisper of free will.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen Reader, Kynes!Reader, Mind Control, Memory Manipulation, Padishah Emperor Paul, Loss of Identity, Brainwashing, Mentions of war and religious fanaticism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Muad’Dib leads the way.

It is what the prophecy dictates. That he is the voice from the Outer World. The one who will lead your people to paradise. The one who will turn Dune’s arid desert lands into bountiful, endless green fields.

But as your eyes rest on him, you do not see the chosen one. You do not see the Lisan Al-Ghaib. You see your friend Paul, broken, lost, his heart shattered into a million pieces due to your cousin’s absence.

He sits at the head of his bed, shadows fluttering across his delicate features from the glowglobes’ dull orange light. Wide black rings surround his sunken blue eyes, the result of his daily consumption of spice melange. Lank, greasy brown curls hang around his handsome face. A pang twists your chest. He hasn’t slept in days, has barely gotten a full night of replenishing sleep since she left on a maker’s back.

You cannot blame your cousin. Paul’s ascendency to the Golden Lion throne came at a cost. A hefty one. Promises were broken. Trust was destroyed. Only time will repair the damage that was done. Though you carry faith the two of them will find their way back to each other.

You stir the spice-coffee in the pot, straining the shimmering dark powder before pouring some in a cup. A spicy cinnamon smell coats the cool night air.

You rise and bring the cup to him.

“For you, Usul.”

A soft smile blooms on his lips as he takes a slow, weary sip.

“You make it so well,” he praises.

You glow at the compliment, returning his smile. Your grandmother used to show you and Chani how to blend coffee beans with spice and herbs. The knowledge never left you. Now, every time you feel troubled or upset, you make a fresh kettleful. A single sip of the familiar brew is enough to alleviate your frazzled nerves. Especially here, so far away from Sietch Tabr, between the strange stone walls of the Arrakeen Keep, you have craved little reminders of home more than ever before.

Fremen belong in the desert, not in peculiar tents made of marble and stone.

Paul’s brows crumple as he studies you.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he says.

“I can get another Fremen-”

His fingers latch around your wrist, desperation sizzling under his touch.

“I prefer it to be you.” He sighs. A bone deep fatigue radiates from the sound. You halt in your tracks. You suppose you could stay a while longer. “Please, stay, your presence soothes me.”

You nod. “I’ll stay, Muad’Dib.”

Relief falls over his features.

The doors suddenly open, the guards stepping aside to let Stilgar in. He bows to Paul.

“Lisan Al-Ghaib…”

Your friend’s mouth flattens into a thin line.

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

Stilgar acquiesces. He will never stop addressing Paul with reverence and admiration. None of his followers believes in him more. At times, it scares you a little. While you share the same faith, the fervor with which every Fedaykin is willing to lay their swords in his name can be frightening. Sometimes you wonder if Chani was right. How much will it take to liberate your world? How much blood will require spilling? You’re not completely naive. No war was ever won without a few casualties. Still, part of you hopes the war will end soon and peaceful times will come.

“No sign of her?” Paul asks.

A contrite expression tugs the older man’s face.

“Apologies, my liege. We scouted the Southern regions this time. We couldn’t find her. She knows the desert well. It is home to us Fremen. She will not be found…”

“...Unless she wants to be found,” you finish, grabbing the empty cup from Paul’s hands and placing it back on the table.

The faint embers of hope in Paul’s cobalt gaze flicker out. Your heart sinks, for both you and him. Though you do not wish to burden him, you miss your cousin too. Her practicality and common sense. Her strength. Without her, a piece of you is missing. A crucial one. Your mother died in childbirth and your father in battle, so both of you grew up together, close enough in age to share secrets and play together for most of your childhood.

It was Chani who taught you how to summon a worm and ride upon its back for the first time. She is the sister tragic circumstances blessed you with.

Stilgar apologizes profusely once more before taking his leave.

As soon as he’s gone, Paul’s shoulders slump.

“She hates me.”

You crouch beside him.

“She doesn’t hate you. She never could. She is your quiet in the storm, and you are hers. She will return when she is ready.”

A wry laugh escapes his lips.

“I have Irulan, my beloved wife, who is likely plotting my demise as we speak. Qizarate missionaries pressing me to take action and purge the non-believers on Aldinor. I am surrounded by foes, everywhere I look.” That distant expression he gets whenever his visions haunt him touches his face. “Blades pointed at my neck at all times, waiting for a sign of weakness to strike.”

You grab his hand, reassuring him, “You also have friends, Usul, who believe in your cause.”

“Fanatics,” he corrects bitterly.

Your chest swells with worry. You don’t like it when he questions himself as such. His cause is right. He freed Arrakis from the Harkonnen’s iron-fisted rule. He will bring peace to every world in the universe. It is written. It’s the only path forward.

“You are not alone.” His fingers squeeze around yours. Warmth rushes to your face, the realization that you’re awfully close to the Emperor striking you. You adjust the nezhoni scarf covering your hair and rise. “I shall let you rest, my Lord.”

“Stay, please.”

His tone is beseeching. Your gaze swings to the window. There, moon beams pierce through the colorful glass, scattering rainbow splashes of light across the floor. Vibrant stars pepper the dark sky, pearls lost in a sea of ink. It’s pitch black outside. You should be in your own room. Not his.

“Muad’Dib, it’s late…”

His grip on your hand tightens. When he speaks again, his tone is different. Disembodied. Powerful. Its tantalizing echo drips inside your head like honey.

“Stay,” he mumbles. You plop down on the bed, your body moving on its own, driven by the strange, irresistible thrall of Paul’s voice.

“Usul…”

He cups your cheeks.

“Sleep beside me tonight.”

“I’m not her.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“She should be with me and she isn’t. But you are.” His inflection becomes soft and inviting as he drinks you in. As if he were lumbering through the desert, parched and desperate, and you were a well overflowing with fresh water. “You are beautiful. I never noticed before.” He pauses, tracing your bottom lip. “Perhaps I should have.”

You blink, dazed. When did Paul’s face get so close to yours? You can outline each of his long lashes, the speckles of green lingering in his blue eyes.

“Paul-”

His mouth grazes yours, his thumb stroking your cheeks. It only lasts a few seconds. The warm plushness of his lips on yours yanks you back to reality. You gasp and flinch back. When you recoil, his silky tone fills your ears once more.

“Don’t fight it. You love me, remember?”

A confused whisper slips through your lips. Two parts of your mind wrestle with Paul’s words.

“I do?”

His eyes dive into yours.

“Of course, you do.”

“Of course I do,” you repeat, his tone nudging aside the doubts lurking inside your mind.

A bright smile unfurls on his lips, his lids sagging to half-mast.

“It’s like you said before. You are my quiet in the storm and I am yours.”

Right. You uttered those very same words. How could you forget?

You are Paul’s quiet in the storm. He is yours.

His mouth covers yours. It moves slowly against your own. He explores your mouth as he cradles your face. His long lashes fall over his cheekbones as he loses himself in your taste. He hums against your lips, gentle fingers touching your face. You don’t move, eyes half-open as you let it happen. It’s foreign, the sensation of Paul’s lips on yours. Foreign and strange yet you can’t help but numbly accept it.

Once he frees your lips, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Come into my arms, my love,” he says.

You don’t resist as he pulls you into his embrace, nudging you onto the bed. Soft strands of Paul’s brown mane brush against your cheek as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your spice-coated scent.

His arms circle your waist. Your back melds against his chest, the warmth of your bodies mingling through the thin layers of your clothes.

“You smell so good,” he mutters. Your scarf shifts when he rubs his face against it. “Don’t ever leave me.”

When you don’t reply, his tone gets firmer. “Promise it.”

The words roll off your tongue easily.

“I won’t ever leave you, Paul.”

Tension leaks out of his tightly coiled muscles.

“Good,” he says, drifting off to sleep quickly with you nestled in his snug embrace.

You fall asleep too, no thoughts in your head, Paul’s soft snores lulling you into peaceful slumber.

You awake with a start, the stark unfamiliarity of the palatial chambers you find yourself in causing your pulse to soar. Your eyes dart about the room. Recognition hits you. These are the Emperor’s apartments.

Your eyes grow wide. You’re not supposed to be here. Panic sets in.

“W-What am I doing here?”

Paul’s quiet voice flows across your back.

“Calm down.”

“No. I shouldn’t be here…”

You start crawling off the bed but Paul’s fingers around your wrist impede your departure.

He holds your face, vibrant blue eyes locking with yours. You find yourself incapable of looking away, ensnared by his unflinching focus.

“I said, Calm down.”

The alarms ringing inside your head fall quiet. You lean into Paul’s touch. What were you doing? What were you thinking? Every thought you attempt to grasp at evaporates in the heat of Muad’Dib’s stare.

“There. Much better,” he coos, satisfaction hovering on his handsome face. His voice sinks into a sensual whisper. “Why don’t you kneel for me?”

You do as he instructs. Then all fades to black as quicksands of confusion engulf your thoughts.

When you return to yourself, you aren’t on the bed anymore, but on your knees on the carpeted floor.

Paul is looming over you, grunting, his throat bobbing. One of his hands is curled around your nape while the other is under your jaw.

You note the saltiness coating your tongue, the drool on your chin, the soreness in the back of your throat.

You choke on his length, air wavering inside your lungs.

Paul’s cock is in your mouth.

The sick, awful realization tumbles over you like a bag of stones.

Muffled moans leave you as you lift pleading eyes towards him.

You place your hands on his thighs, shoving with all your strength.

Paul doesn’t let you move. He cradles your face and thrusts inside your mouth until his balls are pressed into your chin.

Clouds of lust obscure his gaze as it falls upon you.

He caresses your face, dragging his cock out before pushing it inside your mouth again. Gurgled sounds leave your throat. Tears skip down your cheeks and you wonder when you’ve started crying.

Fremen do not cry. Ever. Even for the dead. It is a rare, sacred act.

Paul wipes them off your face with his thumbs.

“You love me. It is what lovers do,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your body relaxes.

Right. Of course. You love him. It is what lovers do.

You hollow your cheeks and suck him off. He unleashes a throaty sigh of delight as you pleasure him with your mouth.

When his seed drips down your tongue, he coaxes you not to waste a single drop. You swallow all of it, showing no resistance when he nudges a stray drop between your wet lips.

Several days in a row, you awake in the emperor’s chambers. At first, you experience great confusion. However, Paul’s soothing words always quell your rising panic. It becomes all you know. The Emperor’s mesmerizing voice. His large, soft bed. His ceaseless, ravenous touch.

Sweaty, tangled limbs melting in lewd harmony.

You stop questioning it. Even the strange lapses of time when you are in one room and mysteriously wind up in another. It isn’t rare for you to wake up with the Emperor’s head bobbing between your thighs, greedily lapping at your folds, or with your hips grinding into his as he impales you on his cock.

It is where you belong. And you believe him when he says that, mumbling loving promises into your ear in the dead of night.

“If we do not strike fast and hard, they will not accept your rule,” Stilgar says.

“They worship a false god. We are doing them a favor,” another man sitting at the table interjects.

A shaky exhale flows from your tongue. You look around, dismay filling you when you realize you’re in Paul’s war room amidst a council meeting. Your head throbs. How did you get here?

You rise from your chair. Bemused gazes land on you.

Princess Irulan snickers from her seat.

“Husband, your concubine is acting strange,” she sneers.

Concubine? You step away from the table.

You blink several times as you stumble outside. You grip your temples, your forehead scrunching. That cannot be right. Is it?

You are no one’s concubine.

You are…

Adrenaline pumps through your blood as your head buzzes.

The answer will not come, your mind keeping it under firm lock and key.

Frustration mounts within you. You blindly waddle around.

You end up in a room that bears vague familiarity. You lean against a basin full of water. Water…just lying around. That seems strange.

Your eyes land on a mirror on the opposite wall. The reflection in the glass has your heart rate spiking. Who is this?

You bolt to your feet, the water in the basin splashing around your feet.

Your tremulous fingers rise to your face, horror filling you when the woman in the mirror mimicks your exact motions.

Your gaze travels across the wide, open space. Quick breaths rush from your throat. The Emperor’s room. Why did you think it was your room?

You stagger backwards. You gasp as you bump into a solid form.

You whirl, eyes widening.

“Paul.”

He gauges you, slight concern etched in his blue eyes. Relief fills you as you soak in his boyish, slender features, much more familiar than those of the stranger in the mirror.

You know Paul. Muad’Dib. Paul is familiar, safe. You trust him. He will tell you who you are.

“Yes, my love?”

“Paul, who am I?”

A displeased frown settles on his brow. He approaches you and grabs your face. His expression hardens.

“You are mine. Nothing else matters.”

“But Paul-”

Your protests are stifled by the feverish press of his lips on yours. A fog surrounds your thoughts as his kiss grows more passionate, his hands sweeping over your curves. You place your hand on his chest, pushing feebly.

“Forget it. Forget it all, beloved,” he mumbles against your lips. You sag against him. You drown in Paul’s blue eyes, time stretching beyond eternity.

When you gain a semblance of awareness, your naked form is writhing above Paul’s. Your palms are spread over his lithe muscles, your hips moving as he slams his cock into your cunt repetitively. Paul bites his lip, his gaze glued to the sight of his length disappearing between your wet folds.

When did you get on the bed? When did you shed your clothes?

Every inquiry melts in the heat swirling across your damp flesh.

Your lashes flutter as you unleash a broken whimper, Paul’s hard length touching you in places that send electricity rippling through your spine.

You tighten around him and he purrs.

“Remember nothing but my name,” he rasps, clutching your hips possessively. He impales you on his length, thrusting faster. You choke on your breath, his quickening pace driving you wild.

You brace yourself on his chest and lose yourself in the pleasure, your breath hitching each time he pounds into you.

The filthy sounds of your coupling fill the room, bouncing off the stone walls. Paul’s deep, animalistic moans. Your soft, desperate whimpers. The blunt, wet sounds your cunt makes as he buries himself inside you. The bed rattling and squeaking under your writhing forms.

“Paul, Paul…” you pant as you bounce on his cock. An intensity ignites his eyes as his name falls from your tongue like a prayer. You toss your head back, voice dying in your throat as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your toes flex. You tremble, your body jolting as your slick walls flutter around his length. A husky moan leaves him. He twitches inside you. His back lifts from the sheets, his body tensing as he hits his peak too. Slick warmth spills from his tip, glazing your walls.

An errant sliver of panic lurks inside your brain. Your eyes bulge as you glance down at where your body and Paul’s are conjoined. Rapid breaths burst from your chest.

Seeming to sense your distress, he shoves your hips back down when you try to squirm away.

His authoritative voice booms across the room, unnatural, multiplied. Everywhere at once.

“Do not move, beloved. Let me fill you up. Make you mine in every way.”

Your breaths settle down. Your worries disappear. You look into Paul’s loving gaze. A smile unfans on his lips as you ride him with abandon again.

“What are you doing?”

You pivot at the abrupt sound of Paul’s voice. You pause above the bag you’re packing. You peer at him, mulling over an appropriate answer to his question. You do not find one. You only know that you stirred awake that morning, feeling strange, sore…Lost. The urge to collect your meager belongings and leave the Arrakeen Keep seared inside you since then. A hollow, distant voice rings inside your head.

Return to Sietch Tabr.

“I have to go. Something…Something isn’t feeling right.”

The muscles of Paul’s jaw flare, his tone as ice as he states, “You want to leave me.”

Discarding your bag, you rush to him. You take his hands in yours.

“No. I made you a promise. I just need time to think…I can’t think anymore, Paul.”

It’s true. Every day feels like trudging through a Coriolis storm, your thoughts scattering as dust in the wind the minute they form.

Everything that was solid before is now sand slipping through your fingers.

Paul’s gaze corrals yours.

“You don’t need to,” he says, gripping your face. His tone dips to a soft lilt that penetrates your senses. “Who are you?”

You search his eyes. A breeze blows away every single doubt you had.

The answer to every inquiry you had is right there. In Paul’s fond stare.

The persistent little voice in your head, that pesky plea begging to be heard suddenly falls quiet. The truth echoes in your head, Paul’s powerful voice filling your mind.

You are right where you belong.

“I’m yours,” you utter with certainty.

His face softens. “That is correct, my love,” he says, stroking your cheek.

“Now, why don’t you settle down, beloved?” You let him escort you to the bed, coaxing you to take a seat on the sheets. “Agitating yourself as such isn’t good for you.”

He sinks to the floor and drops a gentle kiss over your round belly.

“And it’s not good for the baby either.”

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #dune fanfiction #dune #dark!paul atreides #dark!paul atreides x reader #dune part two #paul atreides x you #paul atreides imagine #dune part 2

806 notes · View notes

catcze · 7 months

Text

Wriothesley can hear your loud stomps from a mile away as you furiously speed-walk to his office door like a bloodhound trailing a scent. Even if not for that, the way that you bang your fist on the door is enough to grab his attention.

"WRIOTHESLEY." Comes booming in from the other side of the door. It's thick wood. He wonders how deaf he would have gone if the door hadn't protected him. The door (the thick, supposedly impenetrable door) rattles on its hinges like a screen in a hurricane when you try to kick it again. "DID YOU EAT MY DONUTS."

It's not even an accusation at that point. It's practically a declaration of war.

"WRIOTHESLEY!" You yell so loudly a group of guards turning the corner down the hall scramble back the way they came. "Open up, jackass!"

Wriothesley, knowing he cannot escape the consequences of his actions, merely settles deeper into his chair as he drinks his tea. His last meal. Drink. Similar thing.

The door keeps rattling as you yell profanities at him, until one of his traitorous guards approaches you hesitantly, saying not a single word but offering up the spare key to his office with shaky hands, head low and aggressively avoiding eye contact.

"Oh!" you say, demeanor switching immediately, losing the intimidating glint in your eye as you gingerly take the key. You smile kindly. "Thank you very much!"

Then you turn back to the door, the threat of violence in your eye as you wield the key like a weapon of war, inserting it into the keyhole and twisting it with a dark finality. The guard wonders if they should fear for their superior's wellbeing.

Wriothesley looks up from his newspaper as you close the door ominously behind you, somehow maintaining a blasé facadé even while staring down certain death.

"Well?" you prompt him, eye twitching like a stressed villain from a kid's cartoon show. You round on him in an instant, too quick for him to escape. Somehow, he keeps up his poker face. "Care to explain where my donuts went, Duke of Meropide?"

"I didn't eat them," He deadpans, staring you right in the eye. He pointedly does not acknowledge the white powdered sugar on his face.

"There's white powdered sugar on your face."

"Ah. So there is."

Another cartoony villain eye twitch. "Want to try that again?"

"...I love you?"

"And I love you. Last chance, though."

And he folds like a lawn chair. Wriothesley knows this is a fight he can't win. Even Neuvillette would tell him it's best to just kick the bucket and plead guilty at this point. He sighs breaking eye contact first like a wolf with its tail between its legs.

"Okay, I'll buy you another dozen of them."

You cross your arms, staring at him. He sighs.

"Another two dozen."

You soften just the slightest bit, coming close to perch on his lap and lean into his space. Instinctively, his arms come to wrap around your middle, pulling you against him.

"And?"

Wriothesley leans forward too, enough for your foreheads to touch. You can feel the breath of his sigh against your lips.

"And you have my sincerest apologies for taking your things. In my defense, I thought they were mine at first.”

“Apology accepted,” you say, satisfied, and peck him quickly on the lips. Before it can turn into anything else though, you’re springing up from his lap. Ignoring the disappointed furrow in his brow and the way his arms have still not moved from their position holding you earlier, you take his hand and pull him up from his chair with such startling enthusiasm and surprising strength that it has him stumbling for a second. You pull him towards the door regardless.

“C’mon, you’re making good on that apology right now, Wrio! Hope you finished your work!”

And no, technically he hasn’t finished his work. But he already knows that you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and that pushing that work to tomorrow wouldn’t hurt. Probably. Whatever— it’d be worth it.

So he just sighs and gives the palm resting in his a squeeze and let’s himself be pulled along. You squeeze back.

“As long as you let me have a few. Those were pretty good.”

#Wriothesley x reader #Genshin Impact x reader #Wriothesley #Genshin Impact #Cw GN reader #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #probably terribly ooc BUT ITS CUTE so get offa me #if the pacing is weird it’s bc I wrote it on mobile bc nails make typing so HARD

1K notes · View notes

phoward89 · 1 month

Text

Based on this ask

Warning ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, child gets hurt (nothing major), unruly mobs, poison, hanging tree

“Daddy!” Cassian Xanthos excitedly exclaimed, running over to Coriolanus as you followed behind him, your belly just starting to swell with your second child so you're still able to keep up with your little blonde rugrat.

“Did Mommy bring you here to help me run the country, Cass?” Your husband asked your son, who was his spitting image at 4 years old. The little boy had the same light platinum blonde curls, the same baby blue eyes, the same prominent nose, long legs, and toothy grin.

A grin that was missing something.

“I finally lost my tooth!” Cassian proudly announced, climbing up onto your husband's lap as he sat at his desk in his presidential office.

“Yeah? Let me see it.” Coriolanus beamed, giving your son a proud smile.

You couldn't help, but to melt at the interaction you were watching unfold before your very eyes. Coriolanus, despite being a cold, callous, stern, calculated, iron-fisted leader, was a very loving husband and father. Around you and your son, he was a different man. A man that let his guard down, let himself have emotions.

Coriolanus presented himself to the public as a hard man and rarely talked about his family. The only ones that knew how much his family meant to him was the presidential mansion staff. And they knew better than to cross their boss. The staff knew that if they wanted to keep breathing and assure that their families didn't wind up banished to the districts that it's best to ignore how soft the cold hearted President Snow was with his family.

“Cass, put your tooth under your pillow tonight and the tooth fairy will collect your tooth; give you a reward.” Your husband told your son, making the little boy smile and giggle in excitement.

Coriolanus made sure to incorporate all of those little traditions he grew up with. The ones Grandma’am had shared with him when he was a little orphan boy, growing up alone and afraid during a war.

“Last time I lost a tooth, the tooth fairy gived me a gold coin.” Cassian. Xandros chirped.

Coriolanus cringed at hearing his son's improper grammar. Looking down at his boy, your husband corrected him with, “It's the tooth fairy gave me a gold coin, not gived.”

“Okay.” Cassian simply smiled.

Looking away from the little boy in his lap and over to you, Coriolanus asked, “Have the maids finished packing our bags for our trip to 12?”

Your husband, being the President, had to take trips to the districts to deal with things. It was mostly meetings with PK commanders and mayors, sometimes a few other things such as productivity at a factory or a mine. But he never went into full details with you about it. You usually just had to deal with him bitching about the incompetent people he had to meet with.

You also got stuck attending dinners with the PK commanders, mayors, and their families. Coryo always brought his family along on his business trips for that very reason. So that his family could smooze with the family of whoever he was stuck meeting with. Your husband was all about networking.

“Yes.” You nodded, leaning against the edge of his desk and resting your hand on your barely there baby bump. “Paloma, placed the bags in the foyer of the living quarters; I think the chauffeur's loading them into the car soon.

“As soon as I'm done with my paperwork we'll head out.” Coriolanus informed you, picking up his pen and resuming his paperwork while letting his son sit on his lap.

“Okay, but why do we have to go to 12? We both hate it there, can't you just send one of your staff to handle whatever mine dispute is going on?”

“Darling, I can't send an assistant. I need to handle this myself because, apparently, the last time I sent an assistant nothing got done.”

“Daddy, why you and Mommy hate 12?” Your son innocently asked your husband.

You narrowed your eyes at Coryo, silently warning him that the story of you two’s past in 12 wasn't fitting for the ears of a 4 year old little boy.

Yea… Telling your son that Coriolanus and you met each other when he was a Peacekeeper (and that he was supposed to be Lucy Gray’s beau), that he paid for an apartment you shared (he was supposed to live in the barracks, but he always seemed to sneak in and out before wakeup call), and brought you back to the Capitol with him wasn't a good idea. He was too young; wouldn't understand.

Hell, you're hoping that Cassian never learns the truth about how you and Coryo got together. It's just too complicated. Maybe even somewhat embarrassing in a way.

Your husband gave your son his old puppy plushie from his childhood. It was a plushie that your son slept with. He had to take it with him during trips, or else he'd be up all night crying without it. Cassian Xandros couldn't sleep without his plushie, Puppers.

And Puppers couldn't be packed in the suitcase. No, your son has to carry that plushie with him when going somewhere. Sticking it in the luggage gives him panic attacks.

And dealing with a 4 year old having a panic attack’s no easy feat. Especially when that child's the carbon copy of Coriolanus Snow. Oh boy…the panic attacks that Cassian would have over thinking his Puppers was lost were on a whole different level.

Like the end of the world, the 2nd apocalypse, and WW4 type of level. The little boy was unconsolable while having one. You would always hold your son and assure him that everything was fine. You'd whisper reassuring words to him and comfort him while your husband would find the puppy plushie and shove it into your son's hands.

Safe to say, it was easier to just let Cassian carry Puppers the puppy plushie onto the train with him then to pack it up.

“Daddy, did you bring Puppers on trips when you was little?” Cassian Xandros asked his father while sitting on his lap, looking out the window of the Presidential train car your family had just boarded half an hour earlier.

“It's when you were little, Cass.” Coriolanus corrected your son’s grammar, like he always did.

You just smiled from your spot on the sofa, eating some fruit while watching your favorite boys. They're two peas in a pod. You know that Cassian Xandros is most likely going to follow in his father's political footsteps when he's older. You can see it already.

“No.” Coryo shook his head. A faraway look appeared in your husband's icy blue eyes as he looked out the window over your son's head of platinum curls. Looking down at the little boy in his lap, a thin line of a smile appeared on his face as he explained, “I didn't go on trips as a little boy because things were scary back then. Panem wasn't safe like it is now.”

Looking at his dad, who was his hero, Cassian asked, “And you make it safe, right daddy? Cause you's President?”

“Yes, your daddy makes the country very safe because he's the president.” You answered Cassian before Coriolanus had the chance to correct his grammar.

And it's true, your husband had put many laws, rules, and regulations in effect when it came to the law and order of the country; to keep Panem safe. To keep the country running smoothly. Your husband had seen many horrors in his short life, more than you and that's something considering that you grew up in the districts. Your husband had an obsessive need for control and order; it showed in his political policies.

You never got into it. As First Lady your job was to just smile, go to charity events, host tea parties, etc. Oh, you also collected gossip for your husband, that he used to make decisions about who he should and shouldn't eliminate. But, as First Lady, your role wasn't as a ruler- that was your husband's job. Coriolanus was the President, he oversaw the country and you’re just his sidekick.

“You're mommy’s right.” Coryo smiled, only to ruffle his son's light blonde curls and correct his grammar, once again, with, “And it's because you're President, not cause you’s President, Cass.”

The trip from Capitol City, Panem to District 12, Panem was a very long and boring journey. Traveling from the Rockies to Appalachia was always a soul sucking experience. You and your husband avoid traveling to District 12 like the plague, but unfortunately it couldn't be avoided. It seems that the route was long and full of nothing to look at, but a few old crumbling ruins of ancient Pre-Panem cities.

Cassian Xandros, being a little boy, was excited when the train passed by the remnants of the ancient places. “Mommy, Daddy, what District that?”

Never looking up from his reports, Coriolanus told your son, “It's not a district son, it's the ancient city of Pittsburgh.”

“What happened?” The little boy, who inherited both his father's looks and thirst for knowledge, asked.

“Don't worry about it, buddy. You'll learn about it when you're older in school.”

“But daddy-” Cassian Xandros began, only for the president to sternly cut him off with, “I told you not to worry about it, Cassian.”

Seeing the dejected look on your son's face paired with his low lip quivering made you decide that your husband needed a talking to. That you're going to straighten him out. So, giving your son a soft smile, you suggested in a sweet and motherly tone, “Why don't you go to the dining car and ask an Avox for some ice cream? Hmm?”

‘Okay, mommy.” Cassian nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before taking off to go get his ice cream. A treat that you knew would make him feel better; would also get him out of the suite long enough for you to tell off your husband.

As soon as the door to the train car closed, you gave your husband a disgruntled look and told him, ‘Coriolanus, I understand that you're tense because we're almost at 12, but that doesn't give you the right to snap at Cassian. He's just curious about why there's ancient ruins outside of the Districts along the train tracks.”

“I need to prepare for my upcoming meetings, darling. I don't have time to conduct history lessons with a 4 year old right now.” Coryo said dismissively, as if everything you just told him wasn't important. As if his goddamn paperwork was more important.

Well it wasn't and you're going to let him know that.

“You're not the only one that's on edge about this visit to 12, Coryo.” Your said, causing your husband to look at you. Shaking your head, you admitted, “I haven't seen my brother Rein since he disowned me; called me a sellout and a whore when I became your girl. Going back there, not knowing how my family's going to react seeing me as your pregnant First Lady; the mother of your son, terrifies me.”

And your estranged family's opinion of you, after all of these years, did have you worried. You didn't part with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, on the best of terms. They made you choose between them and a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, Private Snow. You, in the end, picked Coryo. The man that took care of you while you lived in 12, who took you with him when he got discharged and sent back to the Capitol. The man who married you despite the way his Grandma’am turned her nose down at you.

The last time you saw your brother it was when you were on stage with your husband while he was giving a speech during a presidential campaign tour. Although district citizens can't vote, Capitol citizens and those serving the Capitol in the Peacekeepers can. So, Coryo decided to do a district tour to boost morale and votes of the Peacekeepers. He even made sure to use his background as one along with the fact that his father was General Crassus Snow during the election too.

But that was around the time you discovered you were pregnant, so…

“But I'm not taking it out on Cass; I won't sit back and watch you do that, Coryo.” You told your husband, needing him to know that your son couldn't be an emotional punching bag.

Setting his paperwork aside, Coryo stood up and sighed, “You're brother, Rein, and that ratty whore of his are idiots.” Going over to the sofa and taking a seat next to you, your husband snaked an arm around you, bringing you to lean your head against his chest. “I'm sorry that being with me caused such a rift between you and your family; you should've told me you've been feeling apprehensive about this trip.”

“Coryo, you know that I get over emotional from pregnancy hormones. I didn't want to bother you with my feelings about this trip.” You told Coriolanus, feeling like you're ready to burst into tears at any second.

At that very moment, your son walked back into the train car with an ice cream cone in his hand. Seeing you so sad and his daddy trying to make you feel better, Cassian Xandros went over to Coriolanus, only to hold his ice cream out and say, “Daddy, mommy’s sad. Give her my ice cream; then she'll be happy.”

“No, you eat it, sweetie.” You told your son while holding your husband's hand; preventing him from taking the ice cream.

You knew that Coryo would take the ice cream under the guise of giving it to you, but would eat it himself once you turned the treat down. Your husband has an odd relationship with free food…

“Do you want Puppers instead? He always makes me feel better.” Cassian asked, licking his chocolate ice cream cone that had every single once covered by chocolate sprinkles. That was definitely something your son got from his Snow genes. The love of chocolate.

“Oh, I'm fine, Cassian. Your baby sister's just making me a little dramatic.”

“But I thought Auntie Tigris said that daddy the drama queen in the family.”

“Looks like visits with Auntie Tigris are coming to an end.” Coriolanus coldly muttered under his breath.

“President Snow, Sir, we’ve arrived.” A Peacekeeper announced, walking into the presidential train car once the train has stopped.

“Thank you.” Your husband nodded, only to stand up and look towards you and your son. “It's time to go meet the mayor.”

“Is it still Mayor Lipp?” You wondered, standing up with your son and going over to Coriolanus.

You haven't set foot in 12 since Coriolanus did a presidential campaign tour years ago, before you had Cassian, so you had no idea what was going on politically in the district. Honestly, you didn't care either. But, you did need to know who the mayor was since that's who was housing your family for your visit.

“Yes, that wretched fool’s still the mayor.”

“Mister President, Sir.” The Peacekeeper acknowledged your husband, only to turn to you and say, “First Lady, Ma’am.”, before stating, “A Peacekeeper, says his name's Smiley, is here to escort you to the barracks.”

A puzzled look appeared on your face. “The barracks? But we're staying with the mayor.”

“According to this Smiley, Ma’am, the Commander here in 12 has made new arrangements for the Presidential family.”

“Smiley’ll tell us what's going on, darling. Don't worry, we'll be fine.” Coriolanus assured you, since he didn't want you to get yourself in a tizzy while in your delicate condition. He was always so protective of you when you're carrying his child.

But there was a need to worry. Unknown to Coriolanus and you, the miners were striking and protesting. And not just a few of them, but all of them. Apparently they were tired of working long hours underground in dangerous circumstances without being properly compensated.

The protests started at the mines, but by the time your train arrived at the depot, the station was swarming with District 12 miners demanding to be treated like human beings instead of slave labor. Peacekeepers were lined up, keeping them at bay with rifles drawn and threats to shoot. It was so bad that the Commander was afraid for the safety of Coriolanus and his family. Honestly, none of you should be there, but it was too late to cancel the meeting between the President, the mining bosses, the mayor, and the Commander of District 12.

So, the Commander sent Smiley to greet President Coriolanus Snow and to inform him of what's going on. To act as a makeshift bodyguard because the two men are friends.

Well, your husband only used his old bunkmate as a contact to keep tabs on District 12, but friend sounded much better.

“Coryo…” You trailed off, looking up at your husband. You were tucked into his side as he had an arm protectively wrapped around you, hand on your round belly. His other arm was holding your son against his chest in a vice tighter than that of a boa constrictor.

Cassian Xandros had his head buried in his father's chest, clutching tightly to his puppy plushie. The loud noise of the crowd of miners and protesters was clearly frightening him. To be honest, it frightened you too.

These people crowding around you were out for blood. You could sense that if the Peacekeepers weren't keeping them at bay, then the crowd would rush you and your family; tear you apart limb by limb- because they're angry at how they're living compared to how your family's living.

“We'll be at the van soon; then we'll go to the base and won't have to deal with the protestors anymore.” Coryo assured you, keeping a stern look on his face as he led the way towards the van as angry miners and their families shouted profanities. Smiley was up ahead, clearing the way, while the personal guards (peacekeepers) that came on the trip from the Presidential Palace flanked you.

It felt so unsettling, this short walk from the depot to the van that'll take your family to the base. To safety.

It should've been easy to get to the van, considering all the presence of the peacekeepers, but it wasn't. Because nothing in your life, in Coriolanus' life, can be easy.

No….

Because right before you reached the Peacekeepers’ van, the unthinkable happened.

“Should’ve stayed in the Capitol, sellout whore!” You heard your older brother's voice yell before feeling spit land on your cheek.

President Coriolanus Snow should've keep walking, guiding his family thru the crowd to the nearby van, but hearing his brother-in-law call his First Lady a sellout whore made him see red. Made him furious.

Motioning to one of the presidential Peacekeeper guards, Coriolanus ordered, “Arrest that man for assaulting my wife, First Lady Y/N Snow.”

The peacekeeper nodded, only to grab your brother (who put up a good struggle) and cuff him. Your brother was cussing up a storm while the crowd was screaming to let him go, that Rein didn't do anything. The protesters screamed that Rein was innocent; was being falsely arrested by the cruel, dictator President Snow.

But you know what Rein did to cause his arrest. He insulted you and spit in your face. In Coryo's eyes was that assault; something unforgivable.

But the crowd of miners and protesters (some of which were rebels and their sympathizers) didn't see it that way. All they saw was an ‘innocent’ man being carted away.

You don't know how it started, but suddenly people broke thru the lines and tried to swarm you, your husband, and your son. Smiley and your Capitol Peacekeeper guards were beating back the crowd so that your husband could whisk his family to the Peacekeepers van.

And you would've made it to the van unscathed to, if it wasn't for the moltov cocktail that somebody threw at your husband as he ushered you towards the van.

You heard the crash of the bottle and smelted the chemicals before your son's cries of pain sounded out. Turning around, as one of the Peacekeepers by the van shoved you into it, you saw flames licking at your son's back and at your husband's arm. A piece of glass from the broken moltov bottle was embedded in your husband's jaw as blood flowed freely from it.

A pair of Peacekeepers rushed over to your husband, patting the flames out of both his arm and your son's back.

“Daddy, it hurts.” Your son cried, referring to his boiled flesh.

‘Radio the hospital on base, I want the best treatment for my son.” President Snow ordered the peacekeeper that was pushing him towards the van, where you were sitting anxiously.

“Mister President, Sir, we'll get him to the hospital on base right away.” The peacekeeper assured your husband as he joined you in the van.

Coriolanus just nodded at the peacekeeper, causing the man to hop into the back of the van. You and Coriolanus tried your best to soothe your son as the peacekeeper sitting next to your husband barked for the driver to get to base; to radio the on base hospital to let them know that President Snow's son is suffering a burn on his back from the mob’s attack.

Of course, the peacekeeper driving to the base did as he was told. So, when your family arrived at PK Base D12 a stretcher with a medic and a doctor was waiting for your son.

Coryo was holding Cassian’s puppy plushie so hard, you thought the thing’s head was going to pop off and the stuffing would fly out, as the two of you were escorted into your son's hospital room by his attending nurse. His burns weren't bad enough for surgery, but they were bad enough that they needed cleaned, treated with ointment, and bandaged. The nurse explained that Cassian Xandros was asleep due to a dose of morphling he was given for the pain.

Despite him being asleep and on pain meds, you and Coryo just had to see him. Had to sit with him. Your baby boy was hurt, you both needed to be by his side.

Coriolanus might've been a lot of things, but he was a very loving and devoted husband; father. Seeing his son hurt because people didn't like him made him furious. He didn't care if somebody went after him, but going after his family was an entirely different thing.

And those District dogs that wanted prime rib instead of the scraps they got for mining coal all damn day are going to pay. They were going to pay dearly for hurting his son.

Because nobody hurts what's his and gets away with it.

Coriolanus canceled his meetings concerning the mine production, only to have the mine bosses rounded up in the middle of the night and thrown into jail. The reason? Well, they allowed their workers to turn into a violent mob; they didn't keep them in line.

The President ordered the mine bosses to be executed at the hanging tree for being an accessory to the crimes of their mining employees.

Talk about executions…

President Snow had 100 miners rounded up and sent to the gallows as punishment for what happened to your son. It didn't matter that those people weren't the ones that threw the moltov cocktail. They were disgruntled district 12 citizens. They protested and pushed back; causing a rebellion.

They're rebels.

Rebels!

So they had to hang to serve as an example; a lesson on what happens when one goes against the Capitol. Dares to bite the hand that feeds it.

And your older brother, Rein.

Well…

Your husband's currently having a meeting with him in his jail cell.

“Heard you hung 100 innocent people.” Rein told Coriolanus as the imposing platinum blonde devil took set a thermos down on the table your brother was chained too.

“Those scum were not innocent. Their little rebellious outburst hurt my son and scared my pregnant wife.” Coriolanus told his brother-in-law, who he hasn't seen in a good 5 years, while taking a seat across from him. “I don't play around when it comes to the safety of my family, Mr. Halvir.” The president told the dark haired man, who had broad shoulders due to years of work in the coal mines, while reaching for the thermos.

Rein narrowed his Seam grey eyes at President Snow. A man he hates for turning you against your kind, against the district that you were born and raised in. Oh, how your brother hates your husband for being your keeper, for turning you into a Capitol puppet.

Unscrewing the thermos’ lid, Coriolanus made the condescending remark of, “You should know that first hand, considering how I moved Y/N out of your shithole hovel in the Seam once she became mine.”

“You made her choose between you and us when she was too young to even understand the damning consequences of that choice. I hope your kid brings home somebody you hate; somebody that drives a wedge in your perfectly fucked up Presidential First Family.” Rein snarled at Coriolanus while the platinum blonde man poured some of the hot tea from the thermos into a plastic cup- that also served as a topper for the thermos.

“Mmm…” Your husband hummed, tasting the tea. “Still hot.” He remarked, setting the tea down in front of your older brother. Gesturing to the plastic cup, Coriolanus simply said, “For you.”

Rein looked between the cup and Coriolanus, only to nod and take it. His chains were long enough to make it possible for him to pick up the cup and bring it to his lips, but short enough to ensure that he couldn't lunge across the table to do the president any harm.

“How's your boy?” Rein asked, sipping on the tea.

“Why do you care? He's just the product of a Capitol snake and a sellout whore, isn't he?” Coriolanus seethed, hate dripping from every word like venom. Leaning forward, eyes watching the miner intently as he sipped on the tea, he asked, “Do you have any little bastards running around?”

“No.” Rein shook his head. Setting down his cup, he said, “Me and Ashlie decided not to have kids. That it's not worth it, with the risk of reapings and all.”

Coriolanus’ lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Then the Halvir name dies with you.”

Rein's Seam grey eyes flashed with confusion, only for realization to shine in them as he began to feel his throat close up. Clawing at his neck, in a desperate, but useless attempt for air, your brother realized that your husband had poisoned him. He began to feel his blood boil on his body, feel it bubble up from his stomach and travel up his throat. Shaking, he used the last bit of his strength to muster out the word, “Why?”

Coriolanus pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, only to use it to stifle a small, bloody cough. A small side effect of drinking poison, but at least he had taken the antidote prior. He smiled wickedly, a thin layer of crimson staining his teeth, as he told Rein, “Your little stunt caused that crowd to attack me; to hurt my son. Anyone that hurts my family will pay with their lives.”

Watching the light dim in your brother's eyes as blood pooled uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, your husband leaned over him and whispered, “Snow lands on top.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #young president snow #president snow #tbosas fic #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow x you #coryo x reader

341 notes · View notes

bones4thecats · 4 months

Text

Diasomnia with their Fae! Knight! S/O

Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, and Sebek Zigvolt Name: Diasomnia with their Fae! Knight! S/O Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: I'm sorry that this took a while to post, I just finished with a larger thing with my family, so. But, anyways, I do hope you all enjoy this, and look out, on Sunday, January 7th, 2024, requests will open for an hour. I'll put out an announcement when it happens! Enjoy, my lil bubbles🫧

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐉 Okay, the entirety of Diasomnia is shocked

🐉 You were the personal guard of Malleus', being sent everywhere he went, and because of this situation pushed upon you both, conversations were the only thing keeping the atmosphere from fogging up with awkwardness

🐉 Malleus asked you about your home life, so hearing how you descended from a army-covered family of faes, he just smiled and chuckled as you told stories on how strong, yet dumb they were

🐉 He loves to watch you spar with Silver and Sebek, trying to help Lilia teach them, though, since you weren't used to being delicate when fighting, you nearly always ended up on the ground apologizing as you tried healing a small bruise of cut you gave them

🐉 Both you and Malleus have an understanding because of your roles, do not let your feelings overwhelm your jobs, since that could result in people using you against each other, seeing weakness

🐉 You definitely have had to deal with Leona, so while he tried threatening Malleus one day, you grabbed your sword and held it to his throat, making him stiffen and the rest of the group freeze with awkward facial expressions

🐉 You may be rough around the edges, but Malleus likes that about you, and if someone tried harming you, he'd have their heads, and you'd do the same for him, no doubt

🦇 He and you served together during the Human vs Fae war long ago

🦇 You were one of the higher-ranked army members during battle, and you two were known as the 'Blood-Bathers', but, despite how the humans you slayed viewed you both, you cared for one another with a ton of passion

🦇 When Lilia found Malleus' egg, you helped him raise the future-ruler, from helping him control his magic, to helping him gain information on fighting and the outside world, you were there just as much as Lilia was

🦇 Lilia also watched as you laughed when Malleus burned his bangs, just staring at you with a face frozen in betrayal and shock before tackling you and messing up your hair as Malleus laughed

🦇 You may be a knight, but you had just as much of a sense of humor as your husband, from dad-jokes to puns, you both slayed people with them

🦇 Your husband loves to watch you get along with Silver, treating him like your own despite you both knowing he wasn't, and watching you train with him made Lilia feel like his whole life and the reason he survived everything from his past was just to be here, watching you and his family grow

🦇 Lilia also loves to spar with you himself, and watching the three boy's faces all erupt with sparkles and admiration to the two of you, watching as you battled, it was like you were in a dance, flowing together like the soulmates you were

⚔️ Silver met you because of your chosen occupations, being a knight

⚔️ He loves to train with you, watching you hold your sword in your hands was amazing to him, and seeing how you flowed with the weapon like you were one was amazing to him

⚔️ This guy absolutely refuses to give up on your relationship, despite knowing you were going to outlive him, since he was a human with a limited lifespan, while you were a fae with a limitless one

⚔️ Many see you guys as the sleepy soulmates, as after doing literally anything, you guys would rest underneath a tree with animals surrounding you

⚔️ You are a very good fighter, one that even puts Lilia in the need for effort when sparring, and your boyfriend loves seeing how his adoptive father smiles and pats your head with such care when your able to knock him off his feet

⚔️ Silver will try staying up and watch you help train new first years with their magic, but, unsurprisingly, he falls asleep, prompting you to carry him like a princess back to your dorm-rooms

⚔️ Being a knight, you wake up early, and since your lovely boyfriend here has many sleeping issues, he pins you down and makes you sleep longer than normal

⚔️ Malleus, Lilia, and Sebek all love watching Silver hug you from behind and rest while you glare at those who call him pathetic and a disgrace to the dorm for being human, you really were meant for him, huh?

⚡ Sebek was nervous when he first met you

⚡ You were a very well-respected knight within Briar Valley's army, so, being a trainee and you being quite popular among your peers, it made him feel lesser, and he hates that

⚡ He watched as you stood beside Malleus, sending threatening glares to others who dared try harming him, verbally or physically

⚡ Unlike Sebek, you did not express your emotions as passionately, and, funnily enough, that was what got you interested in him, as not many of your fellow knights knew how to express themselves very well

⚡ He gets flustered every time you pinned him down, as you smirked and would tease him with your fangs showing

⚡ You teased others like Lilia, but, you only showed your real emotions to those you cared for, and for Sebek, you showed everything you felt to him

⚡ For some reason, every time he watches you grit your teeth with your fangs showing, he feels ashamed of himself, since he was a half-human, half-fae, while you were a pureblood

⚡ Due to this, you comfort him when he feels weaker than others. He may be a half-blood, but, as you tell him

" I love you for you, not for your percentage of fae-blood. You are an amazing being, loud, but amazing... and I love you for that, Sebek. "

532 notes · View notes

lemarideleclerc · 1 month

Text

The Hardlaunch

Charles Leclerc x famous reader

Summary: you and Charles have been dating for about 7 months now and have been keeping it a secret from everyone except your tight-knit friends and family. After he wins the Grand Prix in his hometown, you guys decide to nothing in in the world mattered except one another.

It was almost like any other Friday morning, Monte Carlo’s warm spring air waltzing through your window in a mindless manner. You had awoken comfortable and warm in your bed, the mattress only slightly distorted and your hair splayed over your pillows in a messy fashion. You unplugged your phone, lying next to you, excited as ever to dress up and sneak your way past the paparazzi into the Monaco GP. Your assistant entered your apartment, first making her presence known by two quick and prominent knocks. “Good morning, have you decided what you wanted to sport to the race today?” She quickly asked as a metal rack of pre-picked designer outfits was rolled into the entryway by one of the clearly underpaid apartment staff. Glancing at the outfits, you deciphered that some were too gaudy and chic, while others were too casual and plain. You ended up picking a medley of vintage channel from the 90’s, as well as some of your signature black sunglasses. To your ensemble, you placed one of your boyfriend’s rings on your finger, a reminder of safety and comfort for an otherwise unfamiliar situation. Your boyfriend, Charles, was the only reason you were going to the race anyway. You two were so happy together, feeling like home to one another. Although you two were going on only your 7th month of dating, you had known each other for much longer. Ever since he went backstage to find you after your headlining Coachella performance 2 years ago, you hit it off instantly. You were both nervous around each other in a timid and embarrassed manner, which still sometimes lingered around you to this day. Your relationship with Charles was quite healthy and passionate, although not public; not even to his own teammate or fellow drivers. The only people who knew about your relationship were both his and your family, and your guys’ tight-knit friends. Putting on your baby blue sun hat, you made your way down to the car, where your driver awaited you, with the help of your assistant and security detail.

After arriving at the venue and seemingly making it past the press, you flashed your padock pass to the guard, your own security guard following you. You made it front row in your own quiet little section of Ferrari’s garage, outside to see the race in the golden sun but secluded from any main cameras or tv casters. The race was tight, Your beloved Charlie fighting with Max (who you’ve actually become quite close friends with) for first position. By just a mere 1.3 seconds, Charles Leclerc had crossed that finish line first. Your heart pounded with excitement, nervousness, and an overwhelming eager causing you to shuffle his ring around your finger. Meeting him at the podium, he fought past other fans and even some relatives to get to you. The two of you exchanged glances at each other, the busy crowd coming to a mute at each other’s presence. Almost instantaneously, he wrapped his toned arms around you and picked you up, spinning you in the air. He set you down ever so delicately, and kissed you so passionately it felt like he had been gone at war for years. All of the major cameras and news outlets captured the moment live, the crowd erupting and the press having a field day. But you two didn’t care. You were happy with one another, happy with the loud and public lives you both live. “Mon Cheri” your boyfriend whispered under his breath whilst holding you to his chest. “We did it”.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x famous reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc x singer reader #charles leclerc x y/n #Drabble #ferrari #first post

180 notes · View notes

sturn-wrld · 4 months

Text

🏮bathroom break

pairing: chris x reader

summary: where chris needs a quick break while at a restaurant

genre: SMUT!!! if that makes you uncomfortable dni!

warnings: unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), nicknames (babe, baby)

a/n: day 10 of smutmas. 2nd post of the day and this one is a little plain and not my fav so ignore it if you must.

masterlist

---------------------------------------------------------

for as long as you and chris had been together you never thought chris was a quickie guy. at this point you don't know why but you had never had a quickie or eve talked about it so you didn't think he really liked them. that definitely changed today.

it was a plain wednesday night and few friends had invited you and the triplets to come out to dinner. as you reached the nice restaurant cameras were clicking and people were swarming causing chris to put up his protective guard that always seemed to turn you on.

you reached your table inside the restaurant to see that all your friends had arrived and were waiting for the four of your to arrive. "chris, y/n. its nice to see you again" one of the friends said "you too" you said still flustered from the crowds. as the night continued all of the overwhelming feelings started fading away as you had a fun time with your friends, eating food, ordering drinks and just having a good time. that was until chris started rubbing up and down your thigh dangerously close to your core.

this caused you to look at him to only receive a slight smirk in response. that meant war. you started to rub up and down his thigh before completely rubbing his semi hard on making him breathe in hard. "go to the bathroom, i'll be there in a minute" he whispers in your ear, you nod in response heading towards the bathroom.

chris picks up his phone pretending to read something on his phone. "oh my girls sick, i'll be right back" he announces to the group before receiving some okays and other sympathetic phrases.

you hear the door open before you see chris walking in with a smirk on his face. "hi mamas" he says continuing that smirk trapping you against the sink. "hi" you say shyly as he leans in to kiss you passionately. the kiss becomes rougher and rougher before he starts to kiss down your jaw and neck whispering between each breath. "first you were the sluttiest dress possible and then you start feeling me up in the middle of dinner" he says seductively "what a naughty girl" he finishes with before connecting to your lips again.

"we have to be quick baby" he says before pulling you into the counter and lifting your dress just enough to see the top of your underwear. with that he pulls them down yo reveal your aching core. "just as impatient as me baby?" he says pulling down his own pants. you nod in response. he starts lining up his cock with your sopping hole, semi teasing you in the process. "what happened to fast chris?" you said wanting him to fuck you already. "anything for you mamas" he says suddenly fucking you at an unreal pace.

he then starts to you with you clit with his two fingers. rubbing, squeezing, flicking. this drove you and your body crazy. you suddenly felt the build up start in your stomach. "keep going baby, i'm going to cum" you said staring at chris as he started going faster "cum for me beautiful" he said as he came inside of you, he started slowly fucking it back into you before pulling out.

he helped you off the counter and helped you clean up before walking out. "pretend to feel sick" he says as you reach your friends.

"i'm not feeling so good, i think we are just going to get an uber home" i said wanting to leave after our quick rendezvous. "yeah, this should cover our food" chris says throwing $50 on the table to help bay the bill "see you guys when you get home" he says now looking at his brothers as we start walking towards the door.

"round two when we get home?"

taglist

@ermdontmindthisaccount @ilovemattsturn @frozenvegitableoil @its-jennarose

#strniolosworld #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

241 notes · View notes

phoenixblaze1412 · 4 months

Note

may i ask for a child reader (again), where the reader is a veeery picky eater? i can imagine confused Iota almost making a ruckus. (Iota is so silly xd)

-🧊

Of course! You can request as many as you want after all^^

Eat Your Carrots.

Every day, a certain segment would be assigned to be the one to handle your meals and feed you. A strict order was ensured that you must not have sweets unless you finish a meal.

Yes, you must eat the vegetables too.

Your worst enemy.

Iota was the one assigned to be feeding you lunch. He was excused from feeding you breakfast since Dottore was the one who fed you that time.

"(Y/n), if you could just stop being so picky then you could eat your damn sweets!"

Iota was holding out a spoonful of sliced carrots in front of you, your plate almost empty except for the sliced carrots. He was happy you were able to cooperate with eating the broccolis when he promised to double your dessert for today. But the carrots were the last thing that you didn't want to consume.

He tried every trick he and the other segments could use when feeding you but you still won't open your mouth and Iota is not having it.

"Nuh uh! I don't wanna eat those things!"

"Eat the fuc-.. stupid carrots!"

"No!"

Iota sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He was so close to pulling his hair out if you keep saying no. He knows his creator would be disappointed at him if he finds out you haven't finished eating your lunch yet. Besides, Iota doesn't want Theta or Omega to always be the reliable ones.

He prefers to be the only segment that you favor most.

Letting out a sigh, he stared back at you, who was looking at him with your arms crossed and a pouting face. If you didn't want to eat the orange vegetable then there's gotta be a reason to it, and he's going to find out why.

"Why don't you like eating the carrots?"

The question caught you off guard as you uncrossed your arms and looked at Iota. You watched as he pushed the carrots in the middle of your plate. You only grinned and told Iota the reason why.

"It's because they look like Uncle Childe and I don't wanna eat Uncle Childe because I like him."

You don't wanna eat the carrots because they look like a certain ginger war freak?

You? You like the eleventh harbinger?

You didn't notice it but Iota was already glaring down at the carrots and planning a certain someone's death. Well, he did notice that the harbinger would hang out with you first whenever he comes back from a mission. Now Iota is also starting to hate carrots too.

"If you eat the carrots, I'll go and ask Epsilon to make you those macarons that you've been craving for a while now."

Now that got your attention, Iota noticed you looking at him with stars in your eyes at the mention of macarons.

"Deal!"

A grin spread across Iota's face as he watched you quickly munch down on the carrots until you finally emptied your plate. Iota got up from his seat as he took your plate away before making his way back to you and ruffled your hair.

"Aren't you a good mutt? Let's go find Epsilon, yeah?"

---

You were happily eating the macarons Epsilon baked for you as you sat upon Iota's lap while watching him read some of the files Beta handed to him.

The door to the office was opened and Childe peeked in with a smile.

"Hey, (Y/n)! I was thinking we should go and visit the town--"

Childe moved his head away from the door at the last second as a scalpel pierced through it. The blade managing to leave a small slice through the harbinger's cheek as he looked at the segment in front of him.

"They are not going anywhere. Thank you very much."

Iota hissed as he glared at the harbinger, his other hand covering your eyes while you kept eating the treats. You didn't really mind if your eyes were covered, this would usually happen if your father or the segments doesn't want you to see anything.

"Oh? I didn't take you to be protective of the mini 'ttore."

"That is none of your business, Tartaglia. I suggest you go on to your merry way or else I'll tell Lord Dottore that you are trying to take his child away again without his knowledge."

Childe only raised his hands in defense as he chuckled nervously.

"Come on now, no need to be so mean. But of course, I'll take my leave now. See you later (Y/n)!"

The hand that was covering your eyes was immediately moved away as you looked at Iota who was muttering and cursing under his breath.

"That damn carrot-boy. I oughta make a potion that turns him into a carrot and feed him to a horse.."

Iota let out a sigh before looking at you curiously when you held out a macaron in front of his face.

"Don't frown anymore, Iota. You look better when you smile. Have a macaron, this always makes me smile."

"Ick..."

You pouted at Iota's response as you let out a huff before placing the treat close to his face before shoving it in his mouth. Iota looked at you in surprised as he sat up straight before rolling his eyes and eating the macaron.

"You're too sweet, you know that? I feel like I'm having a toothache from all your sweetness, mutt."

You let out a squeal when Iota grabbed both of your cheeks and started to pull at it with a grin on his face. You tried to get out of his grip and telling him to let go but Iota wouldn't budge.

"I'll let you go if you promise me that you'll eat your carrots."

"I will! I will!"

"Good mutt."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore #gender neutral reader #female reader #il dottore x reader #child reader

269 notes · View notes

saiidahyunie · 3 months

Text

tell me, will we survive?

chou tzuyu x reader ; fluff, little bit of angst

synopsis: your family had a secret beneath an arranged marriage, but you suddenly discover that the bride’s family had a secret of their own.

wc: 2.1k

♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬ﾟ。

a/n: ty to @twicesserafim for the request!!! something abt my song titles always hit mmmm let me keep cooking

—

you hated being the esteemed princess of a nation.

you also hated the fact that you had to stand for what seemed to be hours on end for a ceremonial marriage of your brother and another princess from a neighboring kingdom.

taehyung, your kingdom’s prince, the crown jewel of your family, someone you were proud to call your brother, was about to marry a woman who he knew very little of. the arranged marriage was all a facade to cover up the potential danger of a war that was all but imminent in a matter of time.

you tried to object to this act that your father and mother had devised, only to be threatened to be exiled from the family entirely if you were to do anything rash to ruin the “special” moment. while you stood off to the side of the altar watching the union unfold right in front of you. you couldn’t see the woman’s face, but you could tell the elegance she possessed while wearing her dashing white dress, the gown pooling over the steps as she held your brother’s hands exchanging vows.

the wedding reception after was all in good spirits, you exchanged conversations with various people that had high positions in the kingdom, leaving kind regards and small laughs as you saw right through their fake smiles.

after partaking in the food that was provided—damned impressed that it was good to eat, the host announced that there was a special performance from the bride’s family. watching the bride sit at the center of the ballroom with a guzheng. you were caught off guard when the helpers brought out another guzheng and saw the bride’s sister take the seat next to her.

there were a couple questions brimming in your head, but the one that needed to be answered right away was who was the bride’s sister? you then lean over to taehyung’s right side to whisper something to him as the sisters started to play.

“you didn’t tell me that salernitana had a sister.”

“i thought you knew. she also hates that name by the way, she prefers to be called sally.” taehyung hushes quickly trying not to interrupt the performance.

“sally?! i think i prefer the other name, no offense.”

“oh shut up, that’s her twin sister next to her.”

you put your eyes on the second sister as she gracefully plays the guzheng with her fingers almost as if she wasn’t touching the instrument at all. she definitely had the musical talent no doubt, but something about her visuals that were near identical to the bride’s—almost like a carbon copy. she had little to no makeup on her face since her visuals were strikingly beautiful as it is. her long dark brown hair curtaining her shoulders as the costume fitted an hourglass figure. you’ve only seen this woman for about two minutes and you were already besotted by her sophisticated appearance as they finish their traditional song, applauding at the end, tapping away repeatedly to annoy taehyung again.

“you never told me the twin’s name.” you said, continuing to clap for the sisters.

“her name is chou tzuyu. you trying to befriend her?”

“nothing wrong with making new friends tae.” you respond quickly as the rest of the guests sat back down to proceed with the rest of the ceremony.

—

once the party broke out in common conversing groups and dances, you make your way across the crowd to see tzuyu alone by herself at a table, making eye contact with you instantly looking away, sitting right next to her, placing your elbow on the table as you observed tzuyu’s features more closely this time.

“nice performance, i didn’t even know that you were sally’s twin sister.”

tzuyu glances back at you with a smile, and you feel your breath hitch for a slight second as she gazes back with a similar intent.

“why thank you, but shouldn’t you be somewhere else princess-”

“please, call me y/n. princess is a little too formal for my taste.” you say, waving your hand to calm tzuyu’s nervousness as she simply nods at your request.

“well then y/n, what brings you all the way over here?” tzuyu politely asks, grabbing a small grape to eat from the centerpiece of the table. “what could an esteemed member of the royal family want with a lesser known person like me?”

“i’m not that esteemed. i’m just on the same boat like you.”

“is that so?”

you nod, studying her features again, staring for little bit longer that you would’ve liked as you didn’t respond to tzuyu’s question.

“y/n.”

her heavenly soft voice breaks your trance as the music of the band got increasingly louder along with the cheers of the crowd. you look back to see your brother and his bride center circle as they both danced to a common folk song, clearly enjoying the moment.

tzuyu clasps your hand, slightly flushed at the sudden contact, face worming as she leaned closer to your ear to say something to you.

“wanna get out of here?”

you do the same to tzuyu leaning to her ear, covering it so that she could hear better, “i know where we can go, come with me.”

—

you open the door of your family estate to a closed off garden. tzuyu is left in awe at the new area of interest as she takes in the sight of the various plants spread across, the soft sound of the water streaming in the small pond next to the door where there were koi fish happily swimming round in circles.

leading the way, you open a second door to an atrium, illuminated by the low lights just enough for you and tzuyu to see each other in the darkness as you two stand in the center, the door closing just behind tzuyu. you tried your best to keep composed, resisting the growing warmth on your face, looking at tzuyu gazing up at the stars peeking through the clear windows above.

“i’ve always wanted to see what was inside the castle.”

“have you liked it so far? i’ve only shown you through the long hallways, but nobody knows that we’re here.” you say rubbing your shoulder to calm yourself while keeping your eyes on tzuyu.

tzuyu hums out gladly, “i have. it’s lovely here, i’m actually jealous.”

you sit down on the small bench off to the side as tzuyu stands in the center. the light radiating through the skylight perfectly as you blatantly admire the artwork that was presented in front of you. tzuyu looks up at the moonlight, nearly mimicking a statue with the way she posed, arms behind her back and lifting one leg up as the skin appeared to be glowing for a few moments. her perfect side profile and angled jawline left your mouth dropping as she looked over to you, causing you to sit up straight and clear your throat out before pretending to wipe something off of your outfit.

“i usually come here when it’s late. it’s quiet and peaceful. i actually spend most of my free time here since we built this garden with my mother.” you say standing up, walking over to tzuyu and grabbing her hand to move deeper and deeper into the outdoor area as tzuyu is left in amazement at the new sight that was in her eyes.

lanterns lit up the pathway that you and tzuyu were walking on as the presentation of the garden grew more amazing to look at. there were a plethora of plants that were curated over time as tzuyu listened to your rambling of the different flower names, throwing them up like a jester’s party trick. tzuyu observed the many groupings of flowers like the chrysi’s in one area and the patches of willows in the next. you two eventually reach a spacious terrace, leaning against the supporting beams that overlooked the kingdom from a high view

“this view is amazing y/n.” tzuyu tells you, shifting herself to stand right beside her, knuckles grazing each other as you swipe your hand away from the contact.

you lightly smile at the sight that you’ve gotten used to seeing as tzuyu looks over to you, your expression shifting slowly to a more grim emotion. you catch yourself inhaling sharply, leaning over the railing to see the lilac’s just hanging under you two.

“sorry, i didn't mean to get depressed all of a sudden.” you say to tzuyu, assuring that everything was okay with you.

except that it wasn’t.

“tzuyu, how come you didn’t put yourself in a higher regard in your family. you’re also a royal family member no?”

tzuyu ponders at your question, turning to face you as matched her eye level, her casting growing immensely in the dead silence, waiting for her answer.

“i was never a fan of being all preppy for show. i just wanted to be a normal person, no status, no privileges, just a simple life.” she mumbles as you couldn't help but feel bad, but at the same time, it puts your mind at rest that she really was in a similar position like you.

you reach for her hand, fingers getting intertwined with yours as she reciprocates your action, relieved that you were so straightforward with how you felt about her in the short amount of time that you’ve gotten to know her.

tzuyu’s body and yours were inching closer together, only to be interrupted by the sound of steps on the gravel approaching you.

“y/n! i’ve been looking everywhere for you! mother and father are requesting your presence back at the ballroom for a few moments.” taehyung says to you as he stood at the steps of the terrace, locking his gaze on you and tzuyu.

“you can tell them to forget about it, they know that i hate parties anyway.” you answer solidly as taehyung leans his head back in a slight shock from your answer, noticing that you were still holding hands with tzuyu before scoffing at what he observed.

“you know our family’s stance about this.” he says, waving his finger at you and tzuyu as he already took the hint, “mother and father wouldn’t approve of this and you know what would happen if they found out.”

“it wouldn’t matter anyway, you know what’s about to happen in the coming weeks.” you retort, clutching tzuyu’s hand tighter as taehyung sighs, turning around as he headed back to the party downstairs.

tzuyu was left confused at the verbal exchange that just happened, but you pulled her closer for a quick hug, trying to do anything to not break down as she pats your back.

“y/n, what’s happening?” she asks you as you look out in the night sky yet again.

“tzuyu, do you know why my brother is having this wedding?”

tzuyu stays silent as she remembers the sole reason of the whole event as she hums quietly to your question. your breathing increases to an uncomfortable rate as tzuyu hugs you tighter, digging her chin onto your shoulder.

“i do, and i’m scared for what’s going to happen.”

you break the hug as tzuyu stands in front of you again, clutching your arm as you couldn’t bear to make eye contact with her, not after how you acted, then hesitating for a moment before giving tzuyu a proposition.

“tzuyu, would you want to run away with me?” you ask tzuyu as she tilts her head, eyes giving a sense of want before you continue. “do you want to get away from all of this, just the two of us?”

tzuyu eyes the ground as you try your best not to tremble from the weight of your own breakdown.

“this war is going to destroy everything. i know it, your family knows it, it’s all going to end.” you say to tzuyu. you and her try to fight back the tears, you and her were both becoming genuinely scared.

your mind was buzzing on all cylinders as tzuyu meets your eyes again, heart twinging as she broke a lovely smile, the dimple on her cheek piercing through as she finally confirmed your longing desire.

“as long as you lead the way y/n , i’ll follow you.”

you exhale in relief, giving yourself a few moments before you grab her hand again, running to a set of stairs behind the terrance and past the gate that went out to the forest that was lit up dimly by surrounding fireflies. you and tzuyu leaving the stupid life of royalty for freedom behind, you and her never looking back.

#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #chou tzuyu #tzuyu x reader #twice tzuyu #twice #twice fluff #tzuyu fluff #tzuyu angst

160 notes · View notes

captain-mj · 3 months

Text

Love Potion <3

Hey, think of the consent issues you can think of when a person is under a love spell. Take that into consideration moving forward. Keep an eye on Roach.

Soap had been wanting to be part of the guard since he was old enough to hold a sword. He finally had been accepted, though it took a while to be able to. Not just because his age, but also his history of trying to sneak into the guard made them not believe him when he was actually of age.

Mostly, he was looking for purpose in life. Some thing outside of himself that he could believe in. And what better than protecting his people from the evil things that tried to destroy his kingdom?

Elves were constantly going to war with them. They seemed to despise them constantly and Soap did find their looks to be… alarming. The long pointed ears, the odd makeup most wore as well as the unnatural paleness they had. Being as they were the main sources of most magic as well, Soap found himself hating them.

At the current moment, the current evil creature terrorizing them was a weird thing that stalked the woods at night. Soap was not sure if it even existed but he knew that most of the citizens of their city thought that and in the end, that was really what was important. Even if his presence was more symbolic, he eased their minds.

Soap got up and started to pull on his armor. It was not a full suit, as he likely would not be going into battle today. Maybe some basic sparring but he wasn’t up for a lot at the moment. He planned to mostly just patrol and see if he could maybe get a glimpse at his Lieutenant.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

Everyone was interested in him, but he only paid his Lord and Lady attention. He was quiet and sharp when he did talk and he struck both fear and… something a little closer to infatuation in almost everyone he met. Something about his presence…

Soap was not immune to this effect. Not one bit. Sometimes, it felt like he got it more than anyone. When Ghost was in the room, it felt like the only way he could breathe is to look at him.

He was sure that everyone felt this way a little bit.

Soap finished his musing and left their barracks. He went straight to his favorite baker. In all honesty, the only retreat he was interested in was Roach’s company. He was lovely company, though he was cursed to be unable to speak. Soap had never seen a nice, cooler person. Even if he had a strange choice in headwear, constantly having a mask on to cover his mouth and a helmet on.

Roach noticed him and he perked up, quickly scuttling off to get him a cup of coffee and some form of…

Soap wasn’t sure exactly. Just that it was a form of bread and had meat on it. He was skeptical until he took a bite.

“Roach, if i was allowed, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

Roach blushed a bright cherry red and smiled even brighter somehow visible through his mask. He took his money, counting it quickly before dropping it in the cup he used for collection.

Soap didn’t understand why so many found him off putting. Despite his curse, he was pleasant. He made idle chat, careful not to interrupt his business, just there to enjoy his company.

“MacTavish.” Ghost whistled and Soap quickly turned around to look up at him.

“Lieutenant! Need something?” Soap smiled politely, hands behind his back in a perfect parade pose.

Ghost glared at him. Presumably. He never took off his headgear, meaning no one ever saw his face.

Soap thought about it. Had drawn different versions of him more times than he could count to see if he could possibly get close. Like always, Ghost drew all of Soap’s attention.

“No…” Ghost brushed him off and got some food from Roach. “Hey, Sanderson. Nice to see you.”

Roach fluttered his eyelashes at him and quickly made him a cup of tea and a… scone? Soap was man enough to admit that he didn’t actually know the words for most of what Roach sold.

Ghost… lifted his mask.

For a moment, a bright beautiful moment, Soap thought he’d take it off completely. That he would see the scarred gruff man beneath.

What could he expect? Salt and pepper hair? Stubble? Dozens of scars? He was probably much older than Soap.

Ghost lifted his mask to just barely reveal his mouth as he started eating. He dipped his biscuit into his tea before taking a bite. When he paid, he gave Roach a thankful grunt and ruffled Roach’s hair.

Roach looked enamored, face bright red. He noticed Soap watching and quickly started to clean, looking very embarrassed.

Soap tried to ignore the jealousy he felt at this entire situation and made himself scarce. Ghost was too obsessed with his job to ever entertain any of them. Least of all Soap. But seeing the rare moments where he gave out affection and it wasn’t directed at him…he felt so ignored.

During the day, Soap mostly stood in one place and looked intimidating. At night, he hesitated between going back to his barracks and guarding the house of the town’s lady and lord. Logically, he should go to the barracks as he hadn’t been told explicitly he was on the night shift but it had been roughly four days.

Just to be safe, he went ahead and went to their home.

Home was… well. It was basically a small scale castle. He thought it was honestly a little grandiose for his taste.

There was no one around. Just a very soft silence.

Soap gritted his teeth. Yeah. He was definitely supposed to watch them. Why the previous watch had not waited for someone to relieve them was beyond Soap entirely.

He went inside to check if they were okay, but was unable to find his lady or lord.

It didn’t occur to Soap that continuing to look may make him stumble on something he shouldn’t. He was too focused on making sure that his charges were okay and safe.

A cracked door.

Never good.

Soap stared at it, hearing… something.

Breathing.

Anxiety rolled in his gut but he had to make absolutely sure his charges were safe. That was his whole job. The place reeked of roses, chicory root and jasmine. Nothing directly sinister but definitely seemed like the components of magic.

So he silently looked through the door, just to make sure.

Soap covered his mouth.

His lady was in a knight’s lap. He knew the moment he saw the armor who it was.

Ghost.

That would explain his one track mind when it came to this.

She had taken off his helmet, having tossed it to the floor at some point. Her hands ran feverishly over him as her husband spoke. He seemed to be ordering them both around.

Soap felt a tiny bit better than she wasn’t sleeping with Ghost outside of her husband’s knowledge, but the entire situation was disturbing. While he’d never fault someone for their kinks, he would’ve never guessed his Lieutenant would have such… proclivities.

She shoved him down on the bed, due to his size, his head lolled off of it and hung down, giving Soap a sudden and very aggressive view of his face.

Three things were noticed in very quick succession.

One, Ghost was more beautiful than Soap could’ve guessed. Soft lips. Beautiful curly hair. A chest and taught stomach that made Soap wish more than anything that he was the one currently making his way down his body instead of the lady of the town.

Two, he was an elf. Long pointed ears. Unnaturally pale features.

Three, perhaps most horrific, his pupils were wrong.

Heart shaped.

Meaning he had a love potion on.

Ghost didn’t smile. He didn’t enjoy this. Even under the influence of magic, they couldn’t force him to pretend.

Soap fled like a coward.

#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Gary Roach Sanderson #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #ghost x roach #roach x ghost #roach x soap #soap x roach #ghost x soap x roach

147 notes · View notes

superprincesspea · 4 months

Text

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 1 - Spring

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

Though summer had not yet fledged, the stifling heat in the keep of Storms End had become intolerable for every soul residing in the castle.

Usually, you enjoyed the warmth of sunshine and would happily sit and bask in its glory for hours on end, but this was no mere heat. This was humidity. Hot and wet, lingering in the air and drenching heavy clothes to clammy skin.

You couldn’t escape it even when the sun went down, and everyone was miserable, too lazy to do anything more than sit and swelter and too uncomfortable to find any rest.

You, however, had other ideas.

You’re Father had strictly forbidden any of his daughters from leaving the keep without an escort and, even then, he did not readily allow it. But you had always been a somewhat unruly child and as a young woman you had certainly not become more obedient.

No, quite the opposite, you’d grown accustomed to doing as you pleased regardless of your fathers demands. He had daughters enough for obedience and you had no ambition to become a well-trained pet for him or any other man.

So, when breakfast was finished, you escaped the keep, ducking between the watchful eyes of your fathers' guards before wandering down to the pebble beach below the imposing castle walls.

Down here was the realm of smugglers and pirates but it had been years since the caves had been used for any nefarious purposes. So, you were alone, the beach clear except for the gulls which landed on the rocks before sweeping out across the waves.

As expected, the air here was much more tolerable if you could forgive the stink of seaweed and salt. More importantly, you could enjoy your own company while the creeping tide chased at your feet.

It was a risky game, daring the water to soak through your shoes and you didn’t want to spoil them. You wanted to take them off and hitch up your skirt to feel the cool lick of the bay's glistening sea. How refreshing, how scandalous, how irresistible ….

Your shoes slide off so easily as do your stockings before you find yourself tucking your skirt and chemise into the waistband of your dress.

It’s a precarious thing, exposing the bare lines of your legs for anyone to see and, all the while, you find yourself craning your head back and forth to check for prying eyes. But you remain alone down here, and the water feels as good as you’d imagined. In fact, it's bliss enough for you to finally take pleasure in the heat of the midday sun and, like a cat rolling on a cool stone floor, you relish it.

Ice smothering your legs while fire kisses your cheeks. The only sound is that of the waves and the occasional cry of a gull which, after days spent listening to your sisters complaining, is the sound of absolute serenity.

In the following afternoons, your secret trips down to the beach become routine. Even though the weather is not as insufferable as before, you like the solitude and the feel of the water on your legs. But it isn’t enough, and it hadn’t taken long before you’d began to toy with the idea of submerging yourself into the depths of Shipbreakers Bay.

What would it feel like to have salt and sand tangled in your hair? To float on the waves? To be suspended between air and earth in a crystal sea?

Those questions have tantalised you beyond rational thinking and, if you wait any longer, it might be too late to find their answer.

Already storms are on the horizon and when they arrive, this little stretch of pebble beach will be underwater for the foreseeable future. So, with this in mind, you’re wearing a gown that fastens easily in the front and, though the wool is far too hot for the climate, you do not plan on wearing it for long.

After removing your shoes and stockings, you do your usual checks. Looking up and down the beach to ensure you’re still alone while your fingers dally at the knots on your dress before finally conceding to unfasten them.

One by one, you loosen the ties while the prick of frightened delight coats your skin as the fabric becomes looser and looser before sliding to a pile at your feet.

Without your dress, your chemise billows about as if the wind has fingers which grasp and pull, urging you to freedom. But you need no encouragement, your mind was already set the moment you woke up and, when that happens, there is little chance of dissuading it.

You pull your chemise over your head and the wind snatches it away, sending it through the air like the sail of a ship before it snags on a boulder further down the beach.

Your heart is in your throat as you retrieve it, wondering what excuse you could possibly imagine to explain the loss of your undergarment. The answer is none. You have to be more careful. Yet careful is the exact opposite of what you’re being.

In all the excitement, you’d almost forgotten that you were standing on the beach wearing nothing more than a necklace which rests at the hollow of your neck, catching the sunlight. But you are naked. The breeze cool against your flesh, your nipples tightening to hard buds.

You laugh at the absurdity of the situation just as a chill of unease ripples down your spine. If someone sees you now, it will be a scandal so terrible you’re not sure you could survive it. Yet that does not stop you from opening out your arms to embrace the air.

It isn’t often a high-born woman or any woman at all gets to choose her own actions but you’re choosing one now. Perhaps this will be the only time you ever swim in the bay, perhaps you will hate every moment of it, but it doesn't matter. At least for a single afternoon, you can be completely in control of your own autonomy. Men take such freedoms for granted but you will savour it.

With careful steps, you make your way into the bay, deeper and deeper until the water comes up to your chest and the cold bites harshly into your skin. You know you will grow accustomed to the temperature as you had done on previous days, so you keep moving, letting the blood flow into your limbs and the warmth return.

When you’re ready, you duck your head under the waves without regard for how you will explain your wet hair when you return to the keep. Instead, you dive down, propelling yourself through the water until your lungs begin to burn and you’re forced to surface.

With each dive, you can hold your breath for longer and swim further and the cold becomes a forgotten thing. You’re like a dolphin or a siren, a creature of the sea, flipping through the water with what feels like grace, and you know one thing is certain- Today won’t be the last day you’ll swim in the bay, not when it feels like this- or so you think.

With the sound of waves crashing against the wall of rocks beneath Storm’s End and the rush of water all around you, you’d be forgiven for not hearing the beat of dragon wings as they fly overhead.

No, too consumed by your own amusement, you don’t even notice the large shadow grazing the beach or see where Vhagar lands on a tuft of grass barely a stone's throw from where your clothes are strewn across the pebbles.

All you know is one minute you’re ducking under the water and the next, the sun is bright on your face and a tall black figure is standing on the beach.

A man .

Your heart plummets, the bay choking down your throat as you gasp and inhale a mouthful of water. Perhaps letting yourself sink and float away from all consequence would be the better option, but you resign yourself to whatever reprimand is waiting for you on the beach, coughing and spluttering as you move closer to shore

Wiping your eyes to bring the figure into focus, you expect to see your father or perhaps Ser Maurin Selmy but the person on the beach is an almost stranger. A man you have never met yet recognise by reputation alone.

Aemond Targaryen.

“Your Grace!” you exclaim, concealing yourself beneath the waves with little success. Afterall, he’s close enough for you to see the sigil stitched onto his doublet so you’re in no doubt of how easily he can see you- even with one eye.

A mischievous smile lights up his entire face as he glances at the black and yellow clothes piled at his feet.

“My Lady Baratheon?” he suggests, his manner surprisingly soft spoken yet commanding enough not to be lost against the waves, “you seem to have misplaced your gown.”

“I was taking a swim,” you say rather absurdly, and he laughs to himself before moving closer and bending down on one knee. Not close enough to be caught by a wave but close enough to touch the water, which he does with great care, carefully removing a single glove to dip his fingers in the surf when it stalks towards the toe of his boot.

“Far too cold for my liking but do not stop on my account,” he smirks, his good eye peering once more beneath the waves.

You wrap your arm a little tighter around your chest as though it will prevent him from seeing the curve of your body and the rise and fall of your nervous breaths but, of course, it doesn’t. The water is like glass and your bare skin shines brightly in the sun.

You’ve never been so exposed before, not even in front of your handmaid who only enters your room when you are already wearing your chemise. So, this is beyond anything you can imagine, and shame would have burned on your skin if it wasn’t for the cold seeping into your bones.

“Your Grace is right; the water has grown cold. I should like to get out.”

He raises his eyebrow, his tongue licking lazily across his lip before his smirk returns.

“Suit yourself,” he says, standing upright and towering even taller than you’d remembered. But he doesn’t walk away, he remains rooted to the sand, the waves daring to reach out and sully the soft suede of his riding boots.

“Your Grace?” your teeth chatter and his smile inches even deeper into his cheeks.

“My lady?” he says, toying with you and seeming to enjoy every ounce of your humiliation before he slowly steps back to where your clothes are still spread on the rocks.

Using his boot, he kicks your dress up into his hands and you think, for a moment, that he’s going to steal it away, but he doesn’t.

He tosses it a little closer to the water, grazing your body with one last look before he turns to face the wall beneath your Fathers keep.

In all this time, your heart has not stopped racing and your muscles are beginning to tighten painfully. Still, you wait another minute, hoping Aemond will leave altogether but he does not, and you have a choice to make.

Withdraw from the relative safety of the water and risk being seen, or remain in Shipbreakers Bay for the rest of eternity. So perhaps, when you think of it like that, you have no choice at all.

Bracing yourself, with a wary eye cast towards your escape route, you force your feet to move forward. Emerging with gooseflesh and chattering teeth yet cheeks burning hot enough to rival the sun.

You scoop up your dress, cursing yourself a thousand times over while your numb fingers struggle with even the simplest task. You can barely hold the fabric, let alone dress yourself. Yet more than anything, you curse Aemond and that’s before you notice him glancing back at you.

You pause, breathless with fear though you know you should be moving faster, dressing quicker, running away. But you’re like a frightened deer under his scrutiny. All you can do is stand there; the dress clamped against your body.

He could do anything to you, and it would be your fault. You had done this. You had disobeyed your father and all sense of propriety to leave yourself vulnerable and completely at the mercy of a Dragon.

Mercifully, Aemond’s gaze only lingers for a moment before it returns to the wall, and you move far quicker than before. Hurriedly pulling your arms into sleeves before fastening two of the strings in haphazard knots.

Though Aemond Targaryen might be a Prince, he is certainly not a gentleman. He glances at you again but this time you’re feeling bolder.

You blow out a huff of bad-tempered air, displeasure oozing from your every movement as you snatch up the rest of your clothes and make haste towards the slope which leads back to the keep.

You need to get away from him as quickly as humanly possible. But your escape is hindered by bare feet on jagged pebbles. You can’t ignore the sharpness and you don’t dare to stop, leaving you to slip on your shoes in an awkward half hop as you try to maintain the momentum of your furious exit.

Aemond, on the other hand, has no such hindrances and catches up to you with little effort, stepping into your path and blocking you again when you try to skirt around him.

Frustrated, you hold your ground knowing that in a physical fight between yourself and Aemond, you would certainly not be the victor. But you would not cower either.

“Will you not tell me your name, Lady Baratheon?” he asks, as though this was some ordinary meeting between strangers.

“I think your Grace has known quite enough of me for one day!” you snap through gritted teeth, your temper growing shorter as your body grows colder.

He laughs softly, bowing his head, “perhaps another day then.”

You expel a gasp of complete disbelief. “I shall endeavour to avoid it!”

Aemond’s smile broadens, and he seems surprised, even somewhat delighted by your candour as you push past him with a complete disregard for his name, his size, his strength or his dragon.

“Then we will see who is the victor,” he calls after you, but you ignore him.

You would rather die than ever lay eyes on Aemond Targaryen again!

~~~

Thank you for reading! Please let me know if you would like to see more.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader

172 notes · View notes

maidragoste · 1 year

Text

The Wedding

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra) x Aegon II Targaryen

Masterlist Serie

Part 4 Part 6

sorry for taking so long to post, I hope you all like the chapter I remind you that my inbox is open and it always makes me happy to answer any questions or read any headcanon you have. thank you very much for all the support

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

You had your eyes closed while Alicent finished doing your hairstyle. The maids could have helped you prepare for the wedding, but your mother-in-law insisted on doing your hair and dressing.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could pretend that the fingers that were braiding your hair with such care and delicacy weren't Alicent's but your mother's. You could pretend that she was by your side. Surely he would never agree to this marriage but you knew that he would be with you, that he would never miss his only daughter's wedding… At least by his own free will, after all, no one from your family had been able to be at your first wedding, with Aemond, because there had been secret. It was just you two and the septon.

And you weren't the only one consumed by nostalgia. Alicent was also thinking of your mother, remembering her when she helped prepare her for the day Viserys named her his heir. She was also thinking of her sweet Helaena of hers, remembering how she had had to comfort and reassure her before her wedding. You didn't seem to need any words of comfort. You seemed ready to do your duty.

"You look beautiful," Alicent said breaking the spell and making you open your eyes. You tried not to feel bitter seeing her and not your mother.

"Thank you" looking in the mirror. Your dress fitted perfectly to your body but it had no collar so you could clearly see the hickeys Aemond had left the night before. You knew she did it on purpose to remind Aegon and the rest that he was still your husband and that he was the one who had you first.

“Are you ready yet?” Aemond asked, entering your chambers. For a moment he felt as if the air had been stolen from him when he saw how beautiful you looked. Although he couldn't help feeling envious of his brother because he hadn't had the chance to see you in your white dress or see you walk down the aisle, let alone be able to hold a big celebration in honor of their union. "You look perfect," she said, ignoring his annoyance.

"Thank you" you approached him and gave him a short kiss. If Alicent hadn't been in the room, you would have prolonged the kiss "Now we can go"

•••••

Once you entered the Sept you began to feel nervous, you were afraid. Not for marrying Aegon, he had been a bad husband for Helaena but you knew that he would be good to you, he had never hurt you during the war, on the contrary, he had been your support, he was by your side in your worst moments, somehow you knew that you could trust him. You weren't afraid of Aegon, what you were afraid of was what it meant to be his wife. She would be queen. You would be responsible for all the people who were here. The welfare of the kingdom would depend on you. Any decision you make could bring misfortune to the kingdom.

You knew you had to start walking but your legs wouldn't move. Aemond, who would walk you to the end of the hall, turned to see you. If you wanted to back out of the wedding, you just had to say so and he wouldn't hesitate to get you out of there. He didn't care how many people he would have to fight, how many he would have to kill, he would get you out and keep you safe.

Suddenly you felt cold on your shoulder "You can do it" someone whispered in your aer. It was not Aemond. It was Jacaerys, you would recognize your Jace's voice anywhere "You will be a great queen" you knew it was only a product of your imagination but thinking that your dear brother was by your side, supporting you, gave you enough courage to start walking.

Some people expected to see you being dragged down the aisle by the guards while you yelled and cursed at the green ones. Others expected to see a young woman walking down the hall all shaky and whimpering. But no, you surprised them all by walking with your head held high and without any tears in your eyes. You had the countenance worthy of a future queen.

Aegon felt his heart race. You looked so beautiful no matter what you wore for him you would always look beautiful. But you looked so beautiful in your white dress, you seem taken from a dream, this was a dream for him. He couldn't help but get emotional, his eyes clouded over for a moment and he had to force himself not to cry in front of everyone, he had dreamed of this for so long and it was finally happening. I would finally be your husband.

You forgot all the lords and ladies watching you when your eyes met the Aegons. You felt your heart warm when you saw the emotion in his lavender eyes. You almost wanted to laugh when you saw how he seemed about to cry, he gave you so much tenderness. Gods, how had you been so blind and stupid not to notice before that he loved you?

Aemond felt pure bitterness and fury at the way they looked at each other. It seemed as if you two had forgotten about the rest and were the only ones present in the Sept. You weren't supposed to look at his brother like that, he thought you would look at him in disgust or directly without showing any expression. But the only thing that transmitted your eyes was warmth. Did you lie to him when you said you didn't want to marry Aegon? Had the two planned everything behind his back? No, Aemond knew you well and you would never do such a thing…So Aegon's courtship had worked? Now did you love him?

When you reached the end of the hall, Aegon smiled at you and you smiled back. Aemond felt as if someone had punched him. And as if that hadn't been enough, you didn't even seem to hesitate as you released his arm and entwined yours with his brother's. You and the king started up the steps to meet the septon so the prince had to go and stand next to his mother.

"Now you can cover the bride and place her under her protection," the septon said and you instantly turned away to let the king cover your back with her cloak in the colors and shield of the Targaryens. Once he finished you went back to your previous position. "My lords, my ladies we stand here in the presence of the gods to witness the union of a man and his wife." The septon began to wrap your hand around Aegon's. "I hereby solemnly proclaim that Y/N, of the houses Velaryon and Targaryen, and Aegon, of the Targaryen and Hightower houses, are one heart, one flesh and one soul” when I finished wrapping them both intertwined their fingers.

It didn't feel good to hear those words. You couldn't help but look at Aemond. He is your first husband, the father of your children, he is also a part of your heart and soul. No matter what the septon says, you made up your mind. Your heart belonged to both.

"And cursed be anyone who dares to come between them" the septon continued speaking making you turn your face forward "Now, look at each other and say the words"

The two faced each other “Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger" you two recited at the same time without taking their eyes off the other, again it seemed as if only the two of you existed, you felt your heart race "I am his/her, and he/she is mine" the king's smile was so big while saying those words that you couldn't help but smile too "from this day until the end of my days" they both finished safely.

Aegon could not remember ever having been so happy as he was now. You were finally his wife and best of all, you seemed to love him. He could see it in your eyes and could tell that you longed to kiss him as much as he longed for you. So he wasted no time and he cupped your face in his hands before crashing his lips against yours. He felt his heart race as you continued the kiss with the same intensity.

You had promised yourself it would be a short kiss, you didn't want to make a big show of it in front of Aemond, you knew it was hard enough for him to see you marry his brother and you didn't want to make things worse, but kissing Aegon had felt so natural. , her lips were so soft, it wasn't supposed to feel so good. The shouts and applause of the guests brought you out of your reverie. You separated from the king feeling how your cheeks warmed up. You turned to face the crowd, avoiding looking at your first husband out of guilt.

Aegon waited for the crowd to calm down before he began to speak loud and clear "Today we leave the war behind. Today is a new beginning for the kingdom. From today Y/n Targaryen will rule by my side as my equal. We, together, will watch over the kingdom."

Again the sept erupted in cheers and cheers. But instantly they all fell silent as they saw Te kneel in front of the septon.

"May the Warrior give her courage" the old man began to recite and put a smell on your forehead "May the Smith give strength to her sword and shield" he put the smell again "May the Father defend her in her need" he said The image of your father watching over you when you were little and sick or hurt came to mind. "May the Crone lift up her bright lamp and light her way to wisdom" now you thought of your grandmother Rhaenys. You hoped that wherever she was she would guide you. Everyone knew that she would have made a better queen than your grandfather.

"With you, Y/N Targaryen first of her name," Aegon said placing the crown that had been worn by your mother, your grandfather, and old King Jaehaerys years ago.

•••••

The celebration was in full swing. Everyone was enjoying the food and some laughter could be heard in the room. A couple of people were already dancing. Of course, the first to open the dance had been you and the king, as much as you and Aegon felt that their jaws would end up aching from smiling so much but they didn't care. Now you were lovingly looking at your second husband dancing with Jaehaera. They looked so happy that you would have loved to have an artist draw them so you would never forget that moment.

After dancing you were thirsty so it didn't take long for you to drink the cup that a servant brought you. You felt that the wine was sweeter than usual but you didn't care, thinking that surely Aegon ordered a new wine from Essos or Dorne.

"Your grace, may I have this dance?" Aemond said, appearing beside you and offering his hand.

"Don't call me your grace" you complained but still you took his hand and let him guide you back to the dance floor "I'm your wife" you said making him smile for a moment.

"You know I'm going to have to call you 'your grace' in front of the court, don't you?" the prince said as they began to dance.

"Absolutely not" Aemond had to suppress the urge to laugh at how you seemed about to pout "I forbid you"

"If I don't call you "your grace" people will think I don't respect you as a queen"

"I don't care about people. I know you respect me."

Did you know that people will no longer treat you the same as before. The servants would probably be more careful around you now. The lords and ladies would not stop praising you to win favors. But you didn't want your new arrivals to change their ways just because of your new title. First, you had been a sister, wife, and mother. Being queen didn't make you a different person.

"Fine. Fuck the people" your husband said making you laugh but your laugh didn't last long because when Aemond lifted you up to spin you suddenly black dots appeared in your vision. Once your feet touched the ground again you clung to your husband, or at least you tried to because you barely had the strength to stay upright. You felt how your head began to throb. The music seems to be heard more and more distant.

"What's happening?" asked the prince concerned, holding you by the waist to prevent you from falling.

You were confused just a few minutes ago you were fine and now all of a sudden you felt like your own body was passing you by. Then you remembered the glass of wine. Shit.

"I don't want you to panic" you kept your voice as low as possible "But I think I was poisoned" saying each word took a lot of effort.

Listening to you, Aemond felt his blood run cold. He knew you weren't exaggerating, you would never scare him like that for nothing, he was sure that your eyes reflected the same terror as his. He couldn't lose you. What would he do without you? You were his, all of him, only you could see the best in him, only you could make him happy. How would he raise the boys without you? The boys. If someone poisoned you, who could make sure they wouldn't do the same to children? Desperate, he search with his eye where the twins were.

"The children," you said reaching the same conclusion as him. You started to panic. You needed to know that both your brother and the twins were okay. You couldn't die without knowing it first.

"They're fine. They're with my mother. Your brother is with her too" your husband answered and you followed his eye to find your mother-in-law, sitting, holding Aemon in her arms while Egg wiped Baelon chin which surely got dirty when he ate. "I'll take you to the maestre. You'll be fine" Aemond carried you in his arms, drawing the attention of the guests. In other circumstances he would have bothered to think of another way to get you to the maester without attracting attention, people would panic if they found out that someone had poisoned you, but now he couldn't waste time. He didn't know how fast the poison was advancing.

"Aegon. Maybe they want to poison him" you mumbled trying to keep your eyes open but the candlelight was beginning to be unbearable.

If you and Aegon died then Aemond would be king but the war would continue. There was no way Aemond would win Cregan Stark's support. The northerners will fight for your little brother to have the throne. They wanted the descendant of Rhaenyra Targaryen.

"What's going on?" The king asked approaching you, as soon as he saw the look of his younger brother he knew that something bad was happening to you.

"Poison"

And for a moment Aegon felt the air go out of him. Then fury took over his body. How could someone have hurt you? Who had dared to try to separate them? Whoever it was would repent, torture him for days, then have Sunfyre eat him. He would show people what happens to people who try to touch his family. No one would ever hurt you again. He knew you would recover. You had to, he couldn't bear to think about losing you.

"We need a maester! I want all the maesters right now!", he ordered even though you could hear the desperation in his voice.

And Aegon's screams were the last thing you heard before you lost consciousness.

tag list: @hannaeditzs @multi-fandoms-stuff @zverea @m1tzifa1ry

@solacestyles @lilithskywalker @satish @justsumtuffstuff @crispmarshmallow @daduol @inmyowndefender @afro-hispwriter

@green-lxght @roroswhiterose @libdarkheart @chevelledahuman

@versaillesdrmngs @helloitsshitzulover @ladybug0095 @ietss

@serendippindots @ultraviollett @akinatrix @papery-maniac @merovingianprincess @hnybitches @m1ndbrand @giulia2372

@blubird592 @alexa4040 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @bajadotcom @woodandwaxwings @idkjj04 @yor72 @mendes-bae

@lj127 @sustisama @imjustboredso @remuslupinwifee @sarcasticking9 @melllinaa @tswiftsthings

@404slayer404 @letsloveimagines @zillahvathek @alexandra-001

@hnybitches @stitchattacks @scarlettish @damienmorton

1K notes · View notes

petermorwood · 23 days

Text

Flying Officer B.P. “Squirrel” Nutkin of 266 Squadron RAF, seen here in a Hawker Hurricane Mk I flown by 266 during the Fall of France.

As the British Expeditionary Force were driven back by Guderian’s Blitzkrieg, 266 was badly mauled while keeping Luftwaffe bombers away from the Dunkirk beaches, losing enough Hurricanes that it re-equipped with the Supermarine Spifire Mk Ia just in time for the Battle of Britain.

Nutkin, resisting what was already becoming known as "Spitfire Snobbery", was one of the last 266 Squadron pilots to convert from his Hurricane. This snapshot, therefore, must have been taken at some time in mid-June 1940, between the end of Operation Dynamo on 4th June and the official start of the Battle of Britain on 10th July.

*****

It was during the BEF’s final withdrawal from Dunkirk that Flying Officer Nutkin, already with two kills to his credit, made ace in an afternoon and won his first DFC.

He was section leader of Red Section - comprising himself, Pilot Officer Tom E. Brock and Pilot Officer J.R.M.E. Fisher - providing top cover for the evacuation, when on 2nd June 1940 they found themselves up-sun from a raid directed against several of the “Little Ships” (civilian vessels with volunteer crews).

Red Section executed a perfect “bounce” that caught the enemy completely off guard, six Luftwaffe aircraft were shot down, and Nutkin personally accounted for two Junkers Ju.87-B Stuka dive-bombers as well as one Messerschmitt Bf.109-E4 from their escort.

(Representative images, not actual footage)

“Squirrel” Nutkin finished his RAF service in 1946 with the rank of Wing Commander. It’s widely believed he was promoted no higher after saying “Nuts!” to Air Vice-Marshal Trafford Leigh-Mallory, even though this turned out not to have been an insult, merely a misheard comment about which bar snacks were running short in the Officers' Mess.

Regardless of explanation, Leigh-Mallory - always notoriously pompous about his own image and reputation - made a disparaging entry in Nutkin’s file and refused to amend it. His later death in an accident meant the unwarranted black mark was never deleted.

This didn't concern post-war fledgling new airline BEA (British European Airways), and Nutkin joined them directly he left the Air Force…

…going on to become one of their senior captains before transferring to Transatlantic service with BOAC (British Overseas Airways Corporation).

During a layover in New York he met and later married Cicely van Gopher of the New Hampshire van Gophers, and on retirement from flying made a fortune in forestry.

“Some people can’t see the wood for the trees, but for some reason I'm quite good at both.”

#squirrels #war stories #silly stories #pinch of salt

103 notes · View notes

sunnytarg · 1 year

Note

How would yandere Maegor, Aegon I, Aemond and Daemon react if they are in love with reader, who is a widow and has a son, they finally marry reader (time jump) they already have their own children with reader but she has favoritism for her son with her first husband (and her other children are sad) (sort of like Viserys was with Rhaenyra), how do you think they would react? I love you, you are the best, kisses 😘

This is my first time writing for Daemon - I’m excited.

Tw: Maegor is a trigger warning in himself, dubcon in Maegor’s part, child murder

Maegor

Maegor had shown incredible patience when it came to his love. He had known he was in love with her the moment he met her but just as he was married, so was she. She seemed happy enough and as much as he wanted her he knew he had to bide his time. Thankfully, it worked because in an uprising against him he was the one that got to remove her husband's head and put it on a pike, and while he told everyone that taking her to his bed and marrying her was just a spoil of war he knew that it was finally the gods giving him what he so desperately wanted.

He wasn’t blind or deaf, he knew his new wife wept every night. She had always been sensitive so he wanted to keep her away from the fighting. Something her dead husband never thought to do. He insisted that she was not to go on walks alone or leave her room without asking a guard that had his permission. As for the son that came from her previous marriage, he let him stay with her. Despite not caring much for the boy it gave her some solace.

It seemed as if every moment he was not busy he was in her chambers with her naked under him as he pumped his cock into her, filling her with his seed. So it didn’t come as much of a surprise that three moons after their marriage a maester had come to tell him that she was with child. He was overjoyed and made sure to double the guards that were to protect her. When she gave birth to a son, his son he was over the moon. Finally, they were not only bound in name but in blood. It didn’t take very long for him to notice that she paid more attention to her other son than to his. At first, he convinced himself that it was simply because their child was an infant and perhaps she found the constant crying tiring.

Once the maester said she was healed, Maegor was quick to bury himself inside of her again. He found it to be different this time, though. He, for the first time, was frustrated with the woman he loved. She could at least try to put an effort into being there for his son. She could try not to weep over her past and she could stop fawning over her eldest child. With each thought, his thrusts became harder and faster until the headboard was hitting the wall so hard that the wood was splitting down the middle. He didn’t care to hear her whimpers as he finished inside her. He came to a resolution, he would give her another child, after all, she couldn’t ignore two of their children.

She became pregnant faster this time and when she gave birth to a little girl nothing changed in her behavior. She still favored her boy. With irritation, Maegor was at a loss for what to do. That was until he went for a walk among the piles he had on the wall and remembered her husband. A few moons after their daughter was born he walked into his wife’s chambers where he was greeted by his little boy, his cooing little girl, and his hysterical wife.

She had cried into his arms, explaining how she didn’t know what happened to her boy “her precious boy” and at those words, Maegor led her out of her chambers and to a window she was never allowed near. When he had her look down she saw her son impaled on several swords beneath them. He didn’t give her much time to think about how it happened. If the boy simply got out and slipped, if Maegor had someone kill him or if Maegor took the one thing that got in the way of the affections his own children were entitled to and got rid of it. She was crying over her precious boy and Maegor pressed her against the wall near the window and lifted her skirts. He didn't ease into her like he would usually, instead he shoved his cock into his wife’s pussy as she wept for her dead son. He would give her another son. One to fill the hole this one left behind and she would be grateful for the children Maegor has given her and the ones he plans to continue to fill her with.

Aegon I (The Conqueror)

Aegon had never intended on taking another wife. He already had two that he loved. That’s why when he and his sisters united Westeros and found themselves in the North he was caught off guard by the beauty of one of the widows. The longer he and his sisters stayed in the North the longer he spent with this widow. He had learned that she was married for less than a year before the winter took her husband from her and she was left with their son to care for.

Before they left Winterfell, he made sure to marry the woman who had captured his attention. He brought her and her son along with them as he and his sisters continued their conquest.

Several years had passed and they had finally united Westeros with himself as their king. He had a son from each of his sisters and several other children from his northern wife. It was only now that the fighting was over and the ruling had begun that he noticed how his sons and daughters from his last wife would run to one of his sisters for affection. The affection that their own mother withheld and gave to her eldest. Her son is from her dead husband.

Aegon was not jealous of the dead. After all, he was alive and had given his wives a home, children, and a hard cock to satisfy them. What he was upset about was that his northern lady clearly did not love his children like her first. Was it because they were his? Did she not love him enough? Was the mere reminder of her life before him so precious that his children had to go without their mother's love?

He could never do it. End the boy's life. He did love his wife after all but her son was almost a man grown and if he could not fend for himself that was his own problem.

They often visited Dragonstone and when they were there he would usually take his children around their home and teach them about dragons. His youngest, a daughter with dark brown hair like her mothers was insistent on seeing her father’s dragon, Balerion. Before he could stop himself he decided to bring the young children to see his dragon as he asked his wife’s eldest son to check on the dragon in the cave farthest away.

When he didn’t return that night for their nightly meal together his wife asked him where her son was to which he only shrugged.

“He is nearly a man grown I’m not surprised he went exploring. Tomorrow if he’s not back we’ll look for him.”

Of course, he neglected to mention that the cave he sent the boy to was the cave of The Cannibal.

Aemond

Aemond marries the woman he loves after the war. She had been at Harrenhal when Aemond had taken it. Aemond had quickly fallen in love with her soon after he put her and her newborn son under his protection. The woman’s husband was nowhere to be found, she believes that he must have died when all of the dragons came but Aemond can only think that he must have abandoned his family. After everything, he has heard of the man from servants and other widows in the castle. The man was a leech and a pest, someone who did not deserve the wife he had.

When the war is over Aemond brings the widow to King’s Landing despite her saying she wanted to stay in the Riverlands, that it was her home and the home of her son. Aemond rose his nose up at that. Why be there when she had the chance to marry a prince and live in luxury in the Red Keep. She learned to stop protesting so much when he made it clear that she was to marry him and that there was no way out of it.

When he saw her walking down the aisle in a dress he had made to befit her new station and not that of the peasant she once was he couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face. He couldn’t care less what the people in court thought of the one-eyed prince. When he thought he saw her smile he was sure she was in love as well. After all, they had endured much together it would be hard not to be in love.

After only a few short years of marriage, the castle was once again filled with children. His new wife gave birth every year to a healthy baby and now she was in bed after giving birth to twins, their sixth and seventh. Aemond loved his children. He loved them more than he thought anyone could love anything. When he tucked them into bed at night or taught his eldest how to hold a sword he wondered how his own father could have been so absent.

Aemond had not realized his wife’s lack of affection for the children they shared together until his mother asked him to have tea with her. The Dowager Queen mentioned how she noticed that his wife seemed to care more about her firstborn than any child she had with Aemond. He only scoffed at the accusation. His wife loved him and their children.

His mother's words refused to leave his head, though. Every time she watched his wife kiss her eldest son's forehead or smile at him he noticed every kiss and smile his own children didn’t receive. He even watched as his little girl, named after his beloved sister, went to their mother and asked for a bedtime story only to be brushed off and to ask a servant. That wasn’t what made his blood boil, though. It was when he walked by his two eldest son's bedrooms and heard them whispering to each other.

“She’ll learn soon enough to stop asking mother for things. The only one who ever gets anything they ask for is her son.”

“We’re her sons, too.”

“Not in the same way he is.”

Aemond left quickly after hearing that. He tried so hard to be there for his own children so that they never had to feel the absence that he felt from his own father. Yet without him knowing they were still feeling the absence only from their mother.

Aemond could only see red as he walked through the halls. He remembered every instance where his wife refused to be a mother to his children. He thought back to when he met her and he remembered how her maternal nature toward her son drew him toward her. She was so kind and caring then.

He blinked at the sudden realization. She knew that was what drew him to her. After he mentioned how he loved how she cared for her son she had always made sure to bring him around when she saw Aemond. When he first took her to bed she mentioned how she wanted Aemond to give her children only for him to see her drinking a tea he saw used an awful lot in King’s Landing. She had used him for protection during the war and he could excuse that but the war was over and now his children were suffering because of her. He resolved to fix this. His children would no longer feel her neglect.

The next morning when he and all of his children sat at the table in his chambers the break their fast it was his daughter, Helaena, who asked where her mother and older brother were. Aemond had only smiled at her and told her that her mother had taken a trip to where she always belonged and her son was sent to be warded off in the Stormlands. His children had assumed he meant that their mother must have gone back to the Riverlands for a visit and after a while, they stopped asking questions. It was as though nothing had changed with her absence.

Aemond, of course, wouldn’t tell his children how he had brought his wife to their uncle who was familiar with the brothels in the cities and told him to find one for his wife. After some time of no one seeing her, he knew she would be presumed dead and he would be free to remarry to someone who would actually love him and his children.

Daemon

Despite Daemon’s hedonistic ways, he had patience when he needed it. So when the woman he loved married some Lannister he bided his time until he could rid his love of her husband. The time came right after she had given birth to a red, small, and screaming son. As The Prince, he was invited on a hunt to celebrate the birth of the healthy babe. It was something he usually would have ignored but he knees a chance when it made itself clear. During the hunt, he made sure to separate from the group shortly with the new father. He was gone quick enough to do what he needed and back soon enough that nobody missed him.

By nightfall, they had all returned to the camp minus the host of the hunt. While search parties were sent out to find the minor lord Daemon chose to stay at the camp with the new mother. The newborn was cradled in her arms as the woman cried on Daemon’s shoulder. He knew she wasn’t stupid. She knew that her husband wasn’t going to return but thankfully she didn’t suspect Daemon of anything.

When the rest of the men returned to the camp, they returned with the dead body of the Lannister he so despised. They said they found him by the creek, amongst the rocks where he must have slipped. While everyone was crowding the body, Daemon suggested that he bring the newly widowed woman and the newborn back home as it had been a long day for both mother and babe. He stayed for two weeks to comfort the widow and pretend to assist in the funeral proceedings. With nothing left the new mother looked at Daemon with tears in her eyes and asked what she should do. Daemon had his reply ready since she married that Lannister but now he only said in a soothing and persuasive voice, “I know it’s soon but you should think of remarrying. You can stay at the Red Keep until then.”

She had only nodded weakly and packed her and her child’s things. Before the sun rose he had the woman he had so longed for on his dragon and heading back to King’s Landing. It was three months before he asked her to marry him, to which he knew she would say yes because there would be no better offer than a Targaryen prince and while she did not love him yet he was sure she would eventually.

Years had passed since their wedding and Daemon was admittedly happy in his marriage. Since their marriage, they had had many children. Less so because he wanted to be a father and more so because when he filled her with his seed he felt as though the bonds that tied her to him tightened.

He wasn’t a fool. He saw how she favored her eldest so over the children she had borne for him. It didn’t bother him, just as long as her affection and love for him never wavered. When her eldest turned eight he suggested that she send him to Casterly Rock to be a ward of the Lannisters. Truthfully, he just wanted the kid out of the way but his wife seemed to believe him when he said it was for his own good. That there was much he would inherit and things he must learn first, things he could only learn from his father's family.

His own children weren’t old enough to be given as wards yet but it didn’t stop him from continuing to fill his wife. On the night that her eldest son was sent away his wife was in tears, weeping for her son from that bore of a Lannister. To take her mind off of it, Daemon took her to their room and fucked his seed into her all night, promising to give her as many sons as she needed to take her mind off of her other.

It was no surprise when she started to swell with another one of his children. She had stopped mentioning her eldest son and when Daemon sent for their eldest child together to live in King’s Landing, his wife didn’t say a word.

1K notes · View notes