#white poppie writes
Text
Replaceable
Placid smiles and thin eyebrows,
The flower waits for its sun.
Fraying breaths and longing for affection.
The flower dances under the glimmers of the sun.
Trembling eclipse and voice cracks.
Rolling tears, bleeding lips, perpetual pain in the chest
The sun found its moon.
and the flower can only weep its dews.
The portrayal of friendship in arts
doesn't talk about the fading light.
They don't talk about swift combustion.
where the flame is high and bright.
It is quick to start and quick to exhaust,
leaving grey ashes all over.
We meet eyes every day, sometimes briefer than usual
until I realise--
I am haunted by you
and you are haunted by your own self-destruction.
I see your destructive tendencies filling you to brim, thrashing in vain.
Just know that I ruined myself to stop you,
and my love,
I would do it all over again.
It makes me wonder if you are actually the victim here.
Not you, I'll never find someone like you again.
You are the one person that made me feel seen.
It's like you have turned deaf to my pleas.
Goddammit, I miss it when you were proud of me.
Now all I think about is how I can literally see you walk away.
My fears can handle only so much,
I'll crumble and disintegrate.
Probably I am being dramatic,
but you know how you should be
with my fear of losing people.
It has happened so many times.
Fuck it, man, I am not "dramatic."
I'll lose myself if I lose you.
Our house memories still has so many blank walls--
you promised me a forever.
Now all I do is find you in these empty school halls.
how easy was it for you to forget our endeavours?
It hurts me to realise how easily replaceable I am.
By Gauri Sharma (Me)
Aesthetic writing by white-poppie
Tags: @akumicchi @buttercupspotify @maybeleftoverjourneys @hanji-boloji @oikawatoorupdf @bipdf @chandalika-pdf @navaratna @ji-jii-visha @gaurisays
╰┈➤ Book order details (Request Rules) ╰┈➤ Special customers(Taglist)
#aesthetic writing#Poems#poems on tumblr#poem#dark poetry#poetry#poemblr#poetryblr#dark poem#aesthetic poem#poemas#dark acadamia aesthetic#dark academia writing#white poppie🌼#white poppie writes#poets#poetic#poets of tumblr#poets on tumblr#original poem#poemsdaily#poems and quotes#prose#short poem#poem of the day#writer#writing#creative writing#writeblr#writers
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm taking requests!! 💕
I know, I'm technically supposed to make a masterlist for these thing but I'm lazy so....
Here's who I will write for atm <33
Poppy playtime 🧸
Miss delight, Mommy long legs, and kissy missy!!
That's not my neighbor ☣️
Selene Sverchzt, Elenois Sverchzt, and Mia stone for now...
Steven universe ⭐
Opal, Sardonyx, Garnet, Pearl, and obviously the diamonds (excluding pink/rose atm) <33
Also if any of y'all request anything please make sure to like at least give me a prompt, like come on pookies don't give me the bare minimum (I love y'all to pieces dw) ♡
I do write fluff, angst, I am capable of writing smut but I'm not the best at it, but I'll try my best!! 💖
#send me requests pookie's ♡#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#poppy playtime chapter 2#miss delight#mommy long legs#kissy missy#that's not my neighbor#selenne sverchzt#elenois sverchzt#mia stone#steven universe#su opal#sardonyx steven universe#garnet#pearl steven universe#the diamonds#yellow diamond steven universe#steven universe blue diamond#white diamond steven universe#x reader#request#creative writing#writing community
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
White readers, and ignorant ppl in general, that insist that books shouldn’t be political when some of their favs are riddled with politics is so wild. Y’all love The Poppy War and Grishaverse but suddenly have a problem when ppl are telling y’all to think critically when it comes to these authors and their books…Make it make sense. Books are a form of media. No matter how much you enjoy it, it is meant to be critiqued and talked about. Books are my own form of therapy but you are not about to see me denying certain themes or supporting problematic authors. Y’all need to grow up and be fr.
#books#problematic authors#white authors#books are literally a form of media#critical thinking#ignorance#using this as an excuse not to talk about Palestine is disgusting#the poppy war#grishaverse#the hunger games#unique writes
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Details:
Spirit Siblings AU
Zuko is sun-touched the same way Yue is moon-touched. The two of them share a dream-scape together, in which Yue gives Zuko amazing advice that bounces off him, and Zuko gives Yue terrible advice that she takes fully to heart. Featuring:
Proud parent Agni
Zuko having such bad luck that not even divine intervention can save him (or is this luck just because of his own stupidity?)
Badass waterbender Yue
Jealous Azula
Sokka's bisexual crisis (TWO badass royals? He's dead)
Time Travel AU
Zuko dies at the ripe old age with 92, with no regrets and having reconciled with his sister. Unfortunately, his awful luck means he wakes up on a raft post-season 1 instead of the Spirit World. Of course, now knowing Azula is capable of change, he sets out to become the Uncle-figure she never got. Against her will. Featuring:
Zuko being a terrible mentor
Azula's general badassery
Ty Lee having someone validate her feelings + lifechanging roadtrips for her
Mai finding a purpose in life (it's to stop Azula from straight up murdering Zuko)
Azula and Katara's devestating new rivalry (that threatens to end the world before Ozai does)
Sokka's note taking skills (because Zuko is casually dropping those FN secrets for him to pick up)
#I'll write both eventually#just which one first#mainly making this poll because lwpr has gotten so sad#lily white poppy red#atla#zuko#azula#yue#sokka#poll#atla poll#avatar the last airbender
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gabi took a deep breath as she opened the door. The adoption agency was supposed to drop off her child today and she was waiting for them to knock on her door.
Of course, it wasn’t the agency who had knocked on her door, but it was Julie.
“Gabiiiiiii!!! I was wondering, would you like to play with the rest of us today? You’ve been avoiding us so-“
“Sorry, Jul, but I can’t right now. I’m waiting on someone,” Gabi said, looking past Julie.
“OOOH! Is it Sally?! Are you going on a date?!”
Gabi slowly turned red. “N-no… you see, I was approved for adoption…”
“Oooooh! Well, I’ll leave you alone then! FRANK, FRANK, FRANK, GABI’S GETTING A KIDDDDDDDD!!!!!” Julie screamed as she ran off.
A few hours later, the agency finally came.
“Hello, Mr. Winters-“
“Ms. Winters, please…” Gabi said quietly.
“Ms. Winters. This is Anthony White. Please treat him like you would treat someone you would love. He hasn’t been in many good homes. We will check in next month. Goodbye.”
Anthony stood in the doorway, wearing a striped shirt and ripped shorts. He had blue hair, bright skin, and he was missing one of his teeth. He looked nervous. “Are you my new mom?”
“Yes, I am. Let’s get you some new clothes, ‘kay?” Gabi said, taking his hand and leading him inside.
She quickly fashioned a new shirt and some periwinkle overalls with green accents. She also made him some cloud-print socks.
Anthony stared at his new clothes with a shocked expression. “These are mine?”
“Of cour-“ Gabi heard her doorbell ring. “F-“ she remembered there was a child present. “-rench fries!”
She opened the door to find the entire neighborhood at her doorstep. She stood there agape.
Howdy had some toys from his bodega in his arms. “Here, Gabs! Free of charge!”
“Here’s some cookies for the little fella!!!” Poppy said, holding a tray full of chocolate chip cookies.
Frank, looking a bit nicer than usual, handed her some parenting books. “You’ll need these… or that kid will never be independent.”
Julie threw her some arts and crafts supplies. “Now, I hope you’ll play a lottttt of games together!!!” she said happily.
“Here, have the little tyke read over these lines! I do hope he has his single mother’s talent in acting!” Sally exclaimed, handing over a script. Gabi blushed when she emphasized the words “single mother.”
Eddie handed her a package. “It’s a Welcome Package! Hope the boy likes it!!”
Wally put down some paints and paintbrushes. “He needs these, I think. They’re the most!”
Barnaby handed over some balls. “I’m going to teach the little buddy to juggle as soon as I get the chance!!”
“And these are scented candles!” Izabel said. “Everyone else took the good gifts…”
Gabi stared at everyone, tearing up. She couldn’t believe her neighbors would do something like this for her. She stood there, tears running down her cheeks, as she hugged everyone.
“Mom? Who are these people?” Anthony said, coming down the stairs.
“Well, Anthony… these… are your new friends…”
Izabel is owned by @fanoffandoms23
#welcome home#welcome home oc#gabi winters#sally starlet#izabel#welcome home fanfic#anthony white#julie joyful#frank frankly#wally darling#eddie dear#howdy pillar#barnaby b beagle#poppy partridge#i hope I got freakin everyone#there’s a lot of people#writing
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I wrote.
Cringe Ahead!!!!!
"She followed the path and the dirt and gravel turned to wood on one side, and asphalt on the other. She saw a neighborhood. Nobody lived in this neighborhood, for it was empty and grey. But it seemed untouched by the seeming eons it felt like it had to have gone through. On the other side, there was a ride that was covered entirely in rust except for the sign, 'MEMORY-GO-ROUND' it said. Also a singular seat which housed a single flower crown. She liked flowers, or she thought she did. Not-Raine picked up the crown and placed it upon his head. She remembered flowers, and people watering them, and a bouquet for someone special. She came back to see another seat clean of rust. There was a bottle of soda on it. Not-Raine dared to pour the drink down his throat. It tasted of old memories. Memories of sports and dried spills on the carpet, memories of the rain. Another memory of putting on a face. Not-Raine's vision flickered to a unrusted seat. This time, a small plush creature sat upon it. Not-Raine hugged it and the memories began again. Hugs, and bedtime, sleepovers, and love. But also, missed opportunities and unspoken words. Another seat, another object. Not-Raine gobbled down the cookies with wild abandon and healing and good food came to mind. Brotherly love filled her mind as well as an insurmountable sadness. An empty space that needed to be filled, but would never be. Raine woke up."
#woe#cringe be upon ye#writing#gender#memories#merry-go-rounds#opium poppies#Lily flowers#Orange Tulips#White tulips
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
poppy ....
#⸻ ❛ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨�� 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐰 » ooc.#// i've barely started ex - aid ..... finished episode one moving into ep 2 and already know poppy is a character im going to write thanks#// if a character has pink or white hair there's a 99% chance i'll write them tbh#// sorry to anyone on the dash. kamen rider will be my brain for a bit KSDJFDGKFLSD
1 note
·
View note
Text
if i have to write mabel x poppy into existence on ao3 i will
give me prompts for oneshots lmao
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
The symbolism of flowers
Flowers have a long history of symbolism that you can incorporate into your writing to give subtext.
Symbolism varies between cultures and customs, and these particular examples come from Victorian Era Britain. You'll find examples of this symbolism in many well-known novels of the era!
Amaryllis: Pride
Black-eyed Susan: Justice
Bluebell: Humility
Calla Lily: Beauty
Pink Camellia: Longing
Carnations: Female love
Yellow Carnation: Rejection
Clematis: Mental beauty
Columbine: Foolishness
Cyclamen: Resignation
Daffodil: Unrivalled love
Daisy: Innocence, loyalty
Forget-me-not: True love
Gardenia: Secret love
Geranium: Folly, stupidity
Gladiolus: Integrity, strength
Hibiscus: Delicate beauty
Honeysuckle: Bonds of love
Blue Hyacinth: Constancy
Hydrangea: Frigid, heartless
Iris: Faith, trust, wisdom
White Jasmine: Amiability
Lavender: Distrust
Lilac: Joy of youth
White Lily: Purity
Orange Lily: Hatred
Tiger Lily: Wealth, pride
Lily-of-the-valley: Sweetness, humility
Lotus: Enlightenment, rebirth
Magnolia: Nobility
Marigold: Grief, jealousy
Morning Glory: Affection
Nasturtium: Patriotism, conquest
Pansy: Thoughtfulness
Peony: Bashfulness, shame
Poppy: Consolation
Red Rose: Love
Yellow Rose: Jealously, infidelity
Snapdragon: Deception, grace
Sunflower: Adoration
Sweet Willian: Gallantry
Red Tulip: Passion
Violet: Watchfulness, modesty
Yarrow: Everlasting love
Zinnia: Absent, affection
#writers#creative writing#writing community#writing#writers of tumblr#writing inspiration#creative writers#writeblr#writerblr#writing tips#flower symbolism#writing subtext#writblr#writers corner#how to write subtext#symbolism in writing#writing advice#creative writing tips#writing resources#writing help#writer tips#writing tips and tricks#helping writers#help for writers#references for writers#writing reference#writers block#beat writers block#novel writing
49K notes
·
View notes
Text
dont stop talking about gaza and about palestine!! keep fighting and speaking out, keep protesting and boycotting, keep acting in whatever ways you can and keep doing whatever you can. we must demand not just a ceasefire but an end to the occupation and a free palestine!!
feel free to print this as a protest poster if you would like
if youre able to PLEASE donate to:
the palestine childrens relief fund, the mersal foundation for charity and development, buy an esim, shaymas immigration fund, ahmeds kofi and paypal fund (his gofundme is unfortunately having issues at the time of writing this, donating directly to his kofi/paypal can still help)
[ ID: a digital poster which depicts two peoples outstretched arms holding dirt in their hands, out of the dirt is an olive tree sprout growing. behind the hands is a dove flying, and below are more doves flying over mountains which have the pattern of a kufiya on them drawn in green. at the bottom of the mountains are red poppies. there are clouds in the sky that are red, with a red sun drawn above the crest of the mountains. below the poster is text that reads "palestine will be free". the drawing is done in red, white, black, and green colors as a reference to the flag of palestine. /END ID]
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
honestly i feel so embarrassed posting the drabble rn, how do smut/suggestive writers do it? I am turning red at posting literal fluff...
#white poppie does stupid things#hnnnzghh#(hides face in palms)#[this does not apply to consuming the content btw#do it with a straight face 💪]#but like writing it??#AND POSTING IT?!?!?!#aasjowsdisd
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Flowers
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader
Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.
Word Count: 1.5k
TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??
A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.
Read Part One and Part Two
AO3
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.
Lily white and poppy red
I trembled when he laid me out
“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”
Nothing gonna wake you now
Drops of blood.
A wicked, black smile.
“You won’t feel a thing.”
You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.
The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.
On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.
That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.
While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.
You are a Harkonnen now.
Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.
Your husband wouldn’t allow that.
Dreams are sweet, until they’re not
Men are kind, until they aren’t
Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart
“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”
You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.
You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.
“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”
His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.
“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“I know you don’t, my darling.”
You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.
“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”
Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.
Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”
You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.
“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“
“She did.”
He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”
You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid.
Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.
“I only want what’s best for you.”
You understand now.
Is anybody listening?
I open my mouth and nothing comes out
Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.
Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.
“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.
Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.
“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.
“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”
Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.
“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”
There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.
You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”
Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.
Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.
Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.
Flowers, I remember field of flowers
Soft beneath my heels
Walking in the sun, I remember someone
Someone by my side, turned his face to mine
The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.
A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—
You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.
A laugh, familiar and warm—
A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.
Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—
The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.
A kiss, given freely—
Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.
My darling—
My love—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
My darling—
“Is everything alright, my darling?”
You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?
Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—
You give a bright smile.
If you ever walk this way
Come and find me lying in the bed I made
#dune#dune 2#dune part 2#dune part two#feyd rautha#feyd rautha x reader#feyd x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha fanfic#feyd rautha fic#dune fanfiction#dune fic#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader#feyd x you#feyd rautha x oc#austin butler#austin butler fanfiction#inspired by hadestown#hadestown au#dune movie#dune 2024#dune part II#orpheus and eurydice#hades and persephone#feyd rautha fanfiction#jada writes sometimes#dead dove do not eat
527 notes
·
View notes
Text
In the doorway, a girl picked her way around the rubble – around Katara’s age though the way she held herself reminded Aang more of a Military Commander than a fourteen-year-old.
Her eyes found him, and a slow smirk spread on her painted lips.
“Hello, Avatar.”
“Uh, hi!” Aang said, because Monk Gyatso taught him courtesy above all else, even if he felt like he had already done something wrong, the way she looked him up and down, “Are you here to help me?”
The girl paused, long enough to make Aang panic. Then, she slowly approached, which did very little to make him stop panicking. In her hands, flames shaped into smokeless knives. And despite the brilliant display of control, Aang held his breath.
Because her flames were blue. No one had ever told Aang that flames could be blue.
“I suppose,” the girl said airily, “I can spare the time to help.”
In one swift motion, she cut off the metal holding him in place. He gaped.
“Wow,” he said, then grinned widely, “Thanks! Your fire is super strong! Who are you by the way?”
“Someone important,” the girl said, “Much like you. Now, let’s go.”
That’s when a frog popped out of his shirt and bounced away. The girl raised an eyebrow in a perfect arch, and Aang, who usually held the well-deserved confidence of a Master Airbender, felt himself shrink a little.
“My friends are sick,” he explained cheerfully.
The firebender looked at him hard, “You are the Avatar, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Aang nodded, “For sure. Master of the Elements, and all that,” he was a little nervous, and he rambled when he was nervous, “I still don’t know who you are.”
“You’re not what I expected,” the girl said dismissively, “We will talk soon. Follow me.”
Undeniably, that was an order. Inexplicably, Aang followed.
Outside, the guards to Aang’s room had been knocked unconscious. The men who had done it were dressed similarly to the archers, but they nodded to the girl and Aang as they passed, making no move to stop them. One of them fell into step next to Aang and behind the girl.
“We have the west wing, but there are still some in the hallway fighting. They are blocking the way to the main office.”
“Rendezvous with Team Two,” the girl ordered, “I’ll take care of the hallway.”
Oh, definitely a Military Commander then.
When they stepped into said hallway, there was a battle already going on. Between all the red, Aang couldn’t tell who was an enemy and who wasn’t. He cast the girl a fleeting look.
“So I’m guessing we’re not escaping.”
“Don’t worry, Avatar,” she soothed in a voice decidedly not soothing, “This won’t take long.”
-- I was rereading Lily White, Poppy Red and I can't believe this lil' miliray commander got dragged kicking and screaming into friendship fluff, lol
#lily white poppy red#azula#i love her sm#aang#atla#avatar the last airbender#i'm trying to find inspiration to write but it's hard sorry
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
a b o u t m e <3 basic info?
My name is Shar, and I go by she/her pronouns
I am 19 years old
I am pro BLM, a safe space for LGBTQ+ and any others
I adore the HELL out of Motionless in White, Ghostemane, Poppy, Type O Negative, and Nirvana
I live in the US, and I believe that I am the only goth / metalhead girl around my neighborhood.
I DISLIKE Trump (President D*nald T*ump)
I do not support BOTDF or any band members with s*xual allegations.
This is an 18+ Blog (you'll expect band imagines with smut, fluff, and angst). (I will not, however, be posting any high NSFW stuff (that includes: nsfw gifs). Minors DNI on my blog.
Side blog is @windhamsrotunda and that is all you need to know for now! <3
Will be posting more pretty soon, if you have any questions you can always comment or DM me :)
#support blm#blm#nirvana#miw band#chris motionless#lgbtq safe space#fanfic writer#fanfic writing#thoughtsandprayerss#shar speaks#shar writes#motionless in white#type o negative#ghostemane#poppy#submit requests#requests are open#requests open#miw fanfic#ghostemane fanfic#justin morrow#ryan sitkowski#vinny mauro#ricky olson#motionless in white fanfiction
1 note
·
View note
Text
A snake in the bosom
Moodboard by the queen herself @zae5
PAIRING: Prince Regent Aemond x Lady!reader
WARNINGS: dark Aemond, angst, public humiliation, semi public sex, p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), religious kink, knife kink if you squint, overstimulation, light choking.
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
Author’s note: House Peake were green loyalists during the Dance. Shout out to @zae5 who helped me brain storming this filth 🫶
taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @chompchompluke
The skies rumble as they always do when preluding a storm. But it’s different this time. The thunder echoes in your chest, sliding through your ribs and then rattling them to break free.
A warning, the Gods’ way to seal what cannot be undone. They greet this new day, this new order, with blinding lightning. The Wood seems bathed by the early morning light, and yet the owls will soon resume their sentry task on the branches of these ancient trees.
A new flash forces you to look up and you think you can see them, the Seven, leaning out from their perches, pointing a finger at a woman like any other, with her bowed head devoted to obedience and her tight corset to choke to death any desire inside her heart.
And you did.
You stopped going to the library, you kept your eyes faithfully down, weeding out the need to caress the silver through your gaze, to feel the cold alabaster carved into angles so precise and sharp as to be exhausting.
You stopped lingering on the delicacy of long white fingers turning pages, on white knuckles around the sword, rippling with veins, blue and green as snakes crawling underneath.
Not looking didn't do much good.
It's all burned into your eyelids, and the more you don't look the more your mind betrays you like a stab in the back, evoking slender hands and an arched mouth that lazily pulls itself up into an omniscient smirk.
It happens so often that you've come to terms with it. Desire is a shadow that follows you step by step, crawls into your bed as you lie with your husband, makes you close your eyes as you peak and in the darkness that shadow is finally flesh, pulsing and weighing on you, but it is not.
It shouldn’t and it will never.
The lightning tells you can no longer hide, there is no way to stall now, no way to trick the King about the allegiance of your family. It is easy to fool a fool, more so when he’s willing to make himself one in front of a woman. But the King is burned. His cries of pain can be heard outside Maegor’s Holdfast, until the Maesters are merciful enough to give him milk of the poppy.
The throne is empty, the Kingdom has no ruler. But the Gods are snickering with thrill and dread.
Not for long.
“My lady, there’s a storm coming.”
You turn and see your maid clutching a cloak to her chest to shelter from the wind. "Please, you should go back inside.”
You nod tiredly, walking on the thick grass, dragging yourself back within these walls in which days seem to pass following two different times.
There’s the real, urgent one, a military up and down of whispers and promises, pawns moving and ravens coming and going, breaking or forging alliances as easy and quick as their wings flapping. And then there’s your time, dilated, obscenely slow, like molasses. It sticks to your fingers, prevents you from picking up ink and parchment and write, cheat, whisper what you have easily spilled from the worn out lungs of your husband.
“Men sing like parrots in their final throes, remember that. They’d tell you anything when they think with their cock.”
Samantha had been right. But your sister is playing her game in Oldtown and Old Town is not the Red Keep. There are no eyes on the walls there, or ears behind the portraits. There’s no shadow trailing on her path, clouding her mind enough to look away from the game. A game of life and death, your father reminded you in his last letter, the scolding clear in the way the feather had pierced the parchment in some points. The answer was nowhere but in your head, and you were too ashamed to even confess it to a Septa, let alone put it on paper. There’s a snake crawling in your garden of lies and instead of chasing it away, you’re nursing it in your bosom.
You slow your steps upon glimpsing your husband. He’s striding towards you along the corridor. There’s a slight furrow between his brows, one that you have been able to recognize on the faces of many within this fortress. But it's more severe now, or maybe it's just that shadow that makes you see a new man, a stranger.
Has his hair always been that dull and mousy? Has his posture always been so unassuming?
They have since that night in the library, the sin whispers.
“Husband.”
“I’ve been looking for you. We have been summoned to the throne room.”
“Is something the matter? Is the King—"
"The King lives. But the Maesters believe it is best to confine him to bed. Come, Prince Aemond is waiting for us." he grabs your arm and you walk with him, glad that he can’t see the shadow falling on your face at the mention of the King’s brother.
The throne room is so dark that servants are hurrying themselves to light more candles. Every now and then a new lightning flashes from the large windows, making the Iron Throne an eerie sight at the center of the Hall.
There are a few Lords of the court with their ladies, and they seem just as lost as you as they see you and your husband halting before the ancient seat.
Whereas not more than a moon ago, Lords and Ladies would have had to wait hours to be received by Aegon, the new ruler is not long in coming.
The huge doors open and Aemond Targaryen stalks the room carrying the same storm breaking outside. He makes a striking figure, ominous; the lighting pours on his long silver hair making them look like moon rays.
A dreamy picture, were it not for the conqueror's crown on his head and the sapphire in plain sight.
It is the first time you see him without the eyepatch, the first time anyone has seen him without it. They said he wore it so as not to frighten the ladies, but the one-eyed Prince is done hiding. And if fear is all he can muster, so be it. It serves him well for what will come.
He halts before the Iron Throne and takes a good look at the little gathering. You can’t help but trail your eyes on his lean and tall figure, wearing a dark green doublet made of velvet. But it’s the sapphire that catches your eye, and the long scar marring his marbled face.
You remember that one. You remember it shamefully clear while disappearing along with his head beneath your gown.
“My lords” he starts lacing his hands behind his back “As you may know, my brother is in no condition to rule. Thus, according to the law, in case of physical or mental incapacity of the sovereign, the younger brother must bear the weight of the crown.”
There is a shy, almost uneasy passing of glances between those present, but Aemond ignores them altogether. “I will not style myself as King. You will address me as Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm."
Silence falls upon the huge Hall until a loud thunder seem to awaken one of the lords who hurriedly bends his knee before the Prince. "My Prince, I renew my absolute loyalty to you and your—“
"Get up, my Lord, I did not summon you to hear you pledge your loyalty.” He says in a bored tone, darting his eye at the man “Rest assured, if I had any doubt about it, Vhagar would be feasting on your corpse as we speak.”
Silence falls once more and Aemond revels in it. He can smell fear, just like the creature he rides. “But you did raise an interesting subject.” he tilts his head and looks at Lord Peake, your husband, with a benevolent expression stretching on his face. “Lord Peake, if I asked you to pledge your loyalty to me and my family, would you do it?”
You dare not to raise your head, keeping your eyes glued to the ground, but you can sense your husband’s uneasiness, the sound close to one being insulted as he addresses the Prince. “Prince Aemond, my loyalty to your Grandsire and the Dowager Queen has never wavered and it never shall.”
The Prince nods slowly, seemingly pleased by the answer, and keeps his gaze down for a few moments before casting a sharp glance at you. You can’t see it but you can feel it.
“That is very noble of you, Lord Peake. But I can’t help but wonder, is your lady wife of the same mind as you?”
Lord Peake looks puzzled, shifting the weight on his feet “My Prince, my wife is—”
“No.” Aemond cuts him off, darting a single look at the Lord before returning on you “Let her speak.”
With a deep breath, you look up, shrinking under his violet eye and the sapphire ominously glinting of his own light. “My prince, I am saddened that your Grace would think I’m nothing but loyal to your brother, the one and only heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Every day, I pray the Gods to heal him from his burns and give him strength to—”
“Hush.” He says, raising a hand to stop you. “That’s enough.”
You shut your mouth nervously, tensing all the more as he looks at you, unblinking, for a long moment before his lips stretch into a slow, cunning smirk.
“You know, I spoke to your distant cousin once, Lord…something Tyrell. He said something very interesting to me.”
You keep a blank face even when dread starts to run down your spine. Despite the distant kinship, there’s always been bad blood between Tarlys and Tyrells.
“He said to be very careful with Tarly women. Pretty vapid things, he said, hiding a viper’s bite.”
“I am neither my prince.” you state calmly “I’m just a woman like any other, serving my husband, my house, my King.”
“Hmm.” He ponders, the smile lingering still. Then, he picks something form his pocket and asks “What is this then?”
Despite the darkness, you could recognize that seal with eyes closed. And that seal, now, in this room, clutched by Prince Aemond’s fingers, is a death sentence.
“This is not the seal of House Peake.” he rightly says.
You look down, mustering your courage, and say “No, your Grace. That is just a silly token of love between two sisters. I use it to send ravens to my sister in Oldtown.”
“I see. And why do you hide it?”
“I do not, your Grace.”
“Lying to the King may cost your head, my Lady. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Wife…” your husband takes your arm, searches your face with an anxious stare “What is going on?”
“The White cloaks found it.” The Prince informs him “when I made them search your rooms.” He looks back at you and raises an eyebrow “For a token you’re supposed to be so fond of, I may suggest placing it somewhere else than the bottom of an old trunk.”
“Am I on trial for sending letters to my sister?”
“Yes. Considering the circumstances under which these ravens were sent. Ladies give letters to their maids, they do not go personally to the rookery, more so in the hour of the bat.”
Courage leaves you like a gust of wind. You thought you had been clever, careful. Why would anyone take notice of a court lady simply taking a walk in the early hours? And even if they had, they would have dismissed the thought at the first distraction. But not him.
“You think I would not notice? I may be half blind but I can assure you, my lady, I see everything.” He throws the seal on the ground and resumes his soldier-like posture, standing tall and domineering with his arms laced back. “What did you tell your sister? Knowledge about our war plans? Are you secretly siding with the Blacks? I’d advise you to choose your words carefully. From them depends whether you’ll see the next dawn or not.”
Your shoulders slump a little, like a doomed creature sticking its head in the noose.
“My father asked me to spy on my husband to gather knowledge about the green army at Rook’s Rest. But I did not send any raven. I stopped since—"
“Since what? Do continue, my lady, I think your Lord husband is keen to know why his wife stopped playing him like a fool.” He leans his head forward, like someone desperately willing to hear a big secret, but your tongue is a dead thing in your mouth.
“No?” he inquires as silence stretches “Fine, I’ll tell you. You see, Lord Peake, recently your Lady wife seemed to have developed a sudden interest in the library.” the prince says with a little grin “I’m aware of this because I am myself an avid reader. In fact, your lady wife and I have been keeping each other company lately. A rather…intimate company.”
Some of the ladies start to whisper at your back, and you know what kind of words they’re labeling you.
“Wife.” Your husband calls, and this time his voice is steel “What is the meaning of this?”
You open and close your mouth, unsure whether it is worse to tell your husband how you’ve played him or to confess your sin.
“Come, don't deny it now.” the Prince goads you “All the hours you've spent, all those late nights did bear fruit, did they not? You've betrayed your house and the Crown, yet what sweetness it was to have gotten a taste, I'm sure your husband would agree.”
Lord Peaks looks utterly bewildered, shifting his gaze between you and the Prince like a dead fish.
“Oh, so he hasn't after all.” Aemond laughs “A pity, for your treacherous essence reeks of the most bittersweet nectar. Tart, but delicious.”
Your husband’s face is whiter than a sheet for a moment, followed by a red veil of anger and shame. The latter is in plain sight in the way you keep your head down; the Gods have stopped pointing their finger at you and left you in the claws of a much crueler creature. Namely, your own desire.
“Search her.” Aemond orders returning to a stern face “And search her thoroughly.”
“My prince?” asks one of the guards.
“Women can be sneaky with all those veils and layers. Lose the corset.”
The cloaks look at him puzzled, just as you and your husband and anyone else in the room, but the guards know better than to disobey the King.
One of them goes to stand behind you and starts pulling the laces of your dress, another is busying himself with lowering your sleeves.
Your eyes bore to the ground with the purest humiliation as your chest gradually grows exposed. You could raise your hands to hide your breast, but you have nothing to hide, not anymore.
You know it and Aemond knows too. He’s not doing this because he thinks you’re hiding something. He’s doing so for his own pleasure—to see you bare, to finally make you come out of your den and stop hiding from him.
You dare not look at him but you can feel his eye lingering on you, on your body; you can sense the ghost of a delighted smirk on that wicked mouth.
He takes an unreasonably long time before he gives a short nod to the guards, at last satisfied with your public humiliation. What drives your husband to move is not regard for you, but for his own dignity. What are women if not property of men? And however ruined you are now, Lord Peake will not have talk of his wife standing with her breasts out in the Throne Room.
But just as he leans down to you, the Prince speaks “You may go, Lord Peake. All of you.”
The Lord stalls, looking lost at his Prince.
“You can wait outside. She stays.” Aemond commands.
His eye is boring into you as he walks down the few steps with leisure, lingering on the sole of his boot before resting it on the ground. “She needs to learn the price of her disobedience.”
Your husband hesitates, looks at you with lingering disdain and a veil of fear that keeps his eyes wide open, but he can only bow his head.
When you’re left alone the Prince, save for the guards on the four sides of the hall, you dare to look up and see his eye blazing, a cunning edge to it.
He starts circling around you, and what’s left of your dignity makes your hands fly up to cover your chest.
“You said you stopped writing to your sister. And you stopped coming to the library.” he starts with a collected and calm voice. “Why?”
“You know why.” you mutter.
“You better drop this condescending tone if you want to leave this room with your head on your shoulders.”
“Apologies, my Prince. I did not mean to offend you. But I dim you wise enough to understand why I thought it was best to keep my distance from you.”
He stops his circling for a moment “Enlighten me.” and then he’s pacing again.
You swallow, smelling ashes and smoke on his trail. “It was a sin.”
“Hmm. Which one?” He asks somewhere behind you. Out the corner of your eye, you see him slightly leaning towards you, silver rolling past his shoulder as he cocks his head to one side “Your betrayal or the fact that you let me feast on your cunt like a common whore?”
You swallow again. Shame is still coiling in your belly, but there’s also something else on hearing those words coming from his mouth, recalling that night. This man has just humiliated you in front of the court and yet you crave for him to get closer.
“Both.”
“Both?”
“I did not want to.” You say and it’s true. And this, this is the last chance you might have to avoid the pike, or worse, Vhagar’s fangs. “My father forced me.” You say turning your head left and right as he resumes his pacing behind you “I don’t know which kind of deal he has struck with Prince Daemon but I swear it, my Prince, I said nothing about Rook’s Rest, I—“
The word dies on your tongue along with your breath as you feel the coldness of a sharp blade against your throat.
“I should slit your throat here and now.” He whispers dangerously, you can hear his teeth gritting. His arm is pressing on your chest, keeping you locked against him. “What else Lord Tarly ordered you in all his great wisdom? Mh? To seduce me? To play me like a fool, like you played my brother and your husband to gather knowledge about our armies and report it to my uncle and his whore?”
“No, I—" you try to say, but he presses the blade firmer and you choke a gasp, unconsciously grabbing his arm.
“You will speak when I say so.” He seethes, pulling your arm back with his other hand, painfully twisting your bone until a moan of pain escapes your mouth.
It awakens something inside him, something savage that makes him collide his body against yours “Hmm.” He coos darkly in your ear “This brings me back to that night.”
He swiftly twirls the dagger, sheathing the Valyrian steel, but his hand is quick to resume his caging, sliding on your half-covered breast, looking down your shoulders at your bare chest.
His fingers are cold as they slowly travel up, but they lick flames on your skin, making your nipples harden. “Do you remember, little snake? I do.” he runs the tip of his finger on the hard sensitive skin and you whimper softly “It was hard to forget the sounds you made.” He speaks to your neck, his breath scorching “I could hear them when I fucked my hand at night. You made me sin so many times. Was that part of the plan too? Did your father force you to moan my name while you peaked on my tongue?”
“Please…” you sob quietly, feeling fire nestling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his bulge against your lower back.
“Do you moan like that when your husband fucks you? Mh?”
He wants an answer, and he pinches one of your nipples when you don’t please him.
“No…”
“No? I thought so.”
Your body reacts on his own, clenching for how his voice in your ear pools like liquid fire below your stomach. You can see his delighted smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You better speak now, little one. Not even the Gods can save you from the spike. Why would they? They turn their backs on traitors and sinners. And you dared to sin with a Kinslayer. You have only me to beg for mercy.”
“You don’t want to kill me.” You choke when his hand laces around your throat.
He would’ve done it already. He might still do it, but his pressing hardness on your back tells you otherwise.
“No. I have a better use for you.” he says squeezing your neck “I will make an example out of your treacherous mouth. They will look at you and be reminded of the mercy of my crown.”
He steps back and you have little time to catch your breath as he sits on the Iron Throne with the confidence of a God on his perch. The candles mix with lightnings, making the blue of the sapphire and the obsidian of the crown shimmer in a disturbing way.
He rests his arms along the forged swords, his long legs almost sprawled out on the ground. “Come and pledge your loyalty, my lady.”
Your heart hammers in your throat as you swallow. This is a game of life or death, but not now. Your two times have merged into a perpetual dizziness and you’re sinking into the claws of your desire like quicksand.
“No.” he admonishes with a voice like honey when you dare a step closer “On your knees. Like the sinner you are.”
You sink to the ground and his eye goes down with you, smirking with something savage flashing on his face. “Go ahead.” He says spreading his legs around you. “Take your blessing.”
You raise your hands slowly, close to his belt but when you start unbuckling it you find there’s no tremor in your fingers. And he’s too quick to notice. “You wanted this, do you?” he asks “Did you close your eyes and pretend to suck my cock instead of your husband’s?”
The buckles clink together as you finish the unbuckling but he suddenly leans over you, gripping your cheeks with a hold of iron.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.” You quickly, shamefully say.
The left edge of his mouth pulls up tiredly, omnisciently. “How? Like this?” In a blink his long fingers breach your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you choke on them. He pulls them back just slightly, grazing your tongue, and he looks at you with a lustful blaze in his eye.
“Suck.” he orders, and you oblige, keeping your eyes on him as your mouth close around his two fingers, sucking gently and twirling your tongue around the skin.
“Hmm.” He croons with pleasure, leaving your mouth abruptly to lean back against the throne, sliding a little on the ancient seat to push his crotch before you. He makes haste of pulling his cock out, giving it a few tugs while he keeps looking at you, at the longing darkening your eyes and wetting your gowns.
You take hold of his hard hot length, all veiny and leaking from the tip and it’s only natural for you to close your lips around it. You have obscenely dreamed of this.
He lets out a loud gasp, gripping the throne with his hands as your head goes down, taking him all in. It hits the back of your throat with a lewd choking sound; you breathe through your nose, resuming your holy punishment once you have adjusted to length and girth, sucking hard and fast.
"Greedy little thing.” He praises with his eye growing heavy with pleasure “Easy. Easy, now.” he goads you to slow down, and you do, looking up to see him watching you closely, his lips parted, his breath slow and puffed.
“Fuck—” he curses, titling his head back but keeping his eye fixed on you. “See? This is the only good use for your cheating mouth. And you look so pretty.”
The ache between your legs is unbearable, you’re swollen and wet, you can feel your undergown dampening.
“Are you soaked for me, hmm? I bet you’re dripping all over the Conqueror’s swords.”
You have no way to answer as you keep bobbing your head up and down, a sinner worshipping her own sin.
“Open your mouth—wide” he orders and you do, drooling all over him as he starts to thrust harshly in your mouth.
“Yes. Like this, yes—fuck” He pumps in and out, bucking his hips, hitting your throat on and on while he moans helplessly and loudly, as only a King on his throne can.
“Hollow your cheeks.” And when you do it, something snaps inside him. He grabs your hair, pulling at the roots painfully while he keeps fucking your mouth frantically, choking your breath. But you don’t mind. This could be your last day, your last hour breathing. The snake is sucking at your bones and you welcome the poison.
“Enough.” he croaks when he was starting to breathe too fast, too close to the end. “Get up.”
Your knees ache as you pull yourself up but he’s so quick in lifting up your skirts and grabbing your waist to make you turn and sit on his lap, facing the Throne Room. The Guards are exactly where they’re supposed to be, blind and deaf to what they can perfectly see and hear.
“Let me give you my blessing, now.” Aemond says spreading your legs on the throne, making you wince as you feel his hot fingertips on your wet aching folds. “You’re soaked.” he states proudly, smiling with victory next to your ear.
He draws lazy circles on your bundle, sliding down your dripping lips, slowly, too slowly. You buck your hips against his hand and his chuckle travels up and down inside you, rattling your bones like thunder.
“Please…” you cry when his fingers brush your swollen lips once more.
“I should summon back your husband. So he’d see how his pretty wife begs to be fucked by her Prince like a whore. Shall I?”
You grab his hand, pressing it to your core and he dips a finger inside, spilling a loud moan from you that makes him bite your ear as he feels your hot walls clenching around him.
“Fine. We shall let him hear it.”
He brings his soaked fingers to your mouth, sticking them inside to make you taste yourself, and then he takes your wrist, trapping it on your stomach with his hand. He easily slides his cock inside you, moaning along with you into the haunting silence of the hall. His thrusts are deep and quick, desire has consumed him too, for too long. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh are only barely muffled by your frantic gasps. Your eyes are closed in a painful bliss, his hot labored breath dampens your neck as he fills you to the hilt.
Your throat is sore with lack of air as you turn your head and he slams his mouth against yours, filling your mouth with his scorching tongue, biting your lip and sucking until it’s swollen. All of this while relentlessly rutting into you, giving you violent bursts of pleasure that make your moans high-pitched and loud, so loud that everyone outside these walls can hear them. Your husband will hear them, the guards are definitely doing so.
“Fucking Gods, you feel so good” He pants in your mouth “You really wanted this. Your cunt is squeezing my cock like a vice. That husband of yours never fucked you this good, did he?”
“Gods—” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut but he grabs your chin with his free hand, forcing you to turn your head. “The Gods cannot hear you now. They’re deaf to the pleas of sinners.” with his free hand he clutches your bundle and he starts to torture you, drawing fast circles, while his length keeps rutting harshly. “Lucky for you I’m more merciful than the Gods.”
The tension in your belly is unbearable, it makes you cry obscenely and the sound only pushes him to go harder, faster.
“Please—I—I can’t—Gods—”
“You can’t what? Mh?” he nothing but growls, thrusting once more and then again. “This is your retribution.” He says baring his teeth “You failed your family for this. You lied and cheated. Now fucking—take—it” his last words punctuated with three deeper thrusts that make you whimper and roll your eyes back.
It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your peak, letting out a long moan matched with sloppy shakes of your body against his. But he doesn’t stop, chasing his own pleasure as you whimper and sob with overstimulation. His hand keeps moving on your apex, all sticky with your pleasure and you grip his arm, trying to stop him. “Please—I can’t take it anymore—please my Prince—"
“You can and you will.” He promises “Give me one more. Come on, little traitor, just one more.”
You’re not late in granting his wish, trembling all over him and curling your toes with spasms in your muscles.
He groans loudly beneath you, teeth clamping down your shoulder and he stills completely, coming inside you with a choked sound of relief vibrating from his throat.
You whimper softly, feeling him pulsing inside you, but he grabs your waist and forces you to stand up. You waver on your weak feet, his hand is around your arm but only to firmly push you away from him. Falling on the ground, you look up to see him fixing his breeches, hair all disheveled and a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Guards.” He says hoarsely, catching his breath, and two white cloaks stand at attention, their faces blank, pretending to be oblivious to what they have just witnessed. “Take her to my chambers and have the maid give her moon tea.”
Then he looks down at you, his face is wild and yet viciously focused. “We’re going to find a way to send your husband back to Starpike.” He says grazing your lips with his long fingers. “You’re not leaving my chambers anytime soon. In the time being,” his hand grips your mouth harshly, his voice eerily calm “You will write to Oldtown in your own hand, and ask my uncle to send me the head of Samantha Tarly.”
You widen your eyes with terror and he smiles, sweet and poisonous. “And remember, little snake. If I find you near the rookery at odd hours again, I will cut your throat in your sleep. Such a waste it would be. I’d rather have you choking on my cock than your own blood.”
He leaves without another word and you’re left on the ground. You can’t beg mercy to the Gods now, you will have to beg for his and his alone.
thank you so much for reading!! 💕
#a snake in the bosom#liv(in la vida loca)#aemond targaryen x reader#dark aemond#dark aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x you#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfic#house of the dragon#hotd fic#aemond fic#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond smut#dark aemond smut#dark aemond targaryen#aemond x wife reader
810 notes
·
View notes
Text
ijust tfrewup
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
athenainitiative-blog
Overwatch Recall
eccentricslayer
What am I even doing?
blackicewave
HAVEN'T YOU HEARD?
hungry-raptor
A place where I dump some of my stuff on
hokkaidodo-blog
Hokkaidodo