#[[ Full of Sorrow Full Of Grace ]]

[081314]

『願いよ響け』 - Lyrics & Translation

『願いよ響け』 is the name of the song that Malleus, Idia, and Azul perform together at the end of the Glorious Masquerade event. (The song title can be translated as "Let my wish resound!", but I've seen people in the EN side of the fandom have also been calling it "Make a Wish", so call it what you may.)

Below is my take at translating the lyrics! And I've also put some notes in my tags.

夜明けに怯えて 幾度と願う

ひとりぼっちの空に別れと

愛の救いを

Fearing the dawn to come, I make my wish again and again

One wish to bid farewell to that lonely sky

And another for the salvation of love

祈りは遠く

紅蓮を照らして

My prayers, so far away

Shine down on that distant blaze of crimson

鐘よ響け 僕の願いを運んで

今日も温かな夢 高く手を伸ばして

Let the bells resound!

Let their echoes carry with them my heart's desires

Today, as well, I had that same warm dream

And now I lift up my hands, reaching out so high above

ああ もし許されるのなら

喜び 悲しみ 共に生きよう

Ahh, and if it's truly alright

Then let us go through life together, in joy and in sorrow

輝く人の声 満ちている笑顔

どうか僕に 光よ導け

The voices of the people shine, their faces brimming with smiles

I ask of you, O Light! Please, guide them to me!

焦がれてた素晴らしい朝へ

目覚めたら歩き出そう

僕の夢とともに

Once I awake, let us set forth together

Hand in hand with my dreams

Towards that glorious morning I’ve so longed for

鐘よ響け 僕の願いを運んで

今日も華やぐ街に 胸を踊らせてる

Let the bells resound!

Let their echoes carry with them my heart's desires

Today, as well, my heart leaps for joy

Here in this radiant city

ああ いま 美しく咲いた

喜び 悲しみ 皆で歌おう

Ah, and now it has bloomed so beautifully

In joy and in sorrow, let us all sing together

眩しく夢に見た 分かち合う愛を

どうか僕に 光よ導け

未来(あした)へ

O Light! Please, bring my love to me!

Oh, how it shone in my dreams, the love that we shared

And now onwards, to tomorrow

#my tl #twst #twisted wonderland #glorious masquerade #malleus draconia #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #i've swapped the order of some of the lines to make them flow better in english just an fyi #i left 紅蓮 as crimson (well “blaze of crimson” so it makes sense in english) cause i dont think he's directly mentioning the flowers #rollo said the true identity of the calamity was lost to time and no one knows anymore what it was #they just know the town was “dyed bright red” #so i dont think the singer is directly saying crimson flowers or else that would kind of go against what we were told in game... #紅蓮 by itself means “bright red” or “crimson lotus” and the flowers in the game are referred to as 紅蓮の花 “crimson flowers” #it can also be used with reference to fire like 紅蓮の炎 #so i choose to keep that line vague bc whatever he's talking about he seems to only be alluding to it rather than saying it by name #also in the 鐘よ響け 僕の願いを運んで lines i put “heart's desires” instead of “wish” to make it sound less awkward with the repeating w's #i asked my jp penpal what she thought the いま 美しく咲いた was in reference to but she also wasnt sure #she said he could be talking about the city or his wish or the joys and sorrows. so i left it vague but i lean towards it being the city #cause in the line before he says the city is 華やぐ which is like full of life/cheerful/brilliant #and 華 can often have a connotation that describes something that is flowerlike. something that is beautiful/graceful like a flower #so i think he's connecting bloom to 華やぐ and saying the city is radiant (like a flower) and now it's blooming #i went back and forth a lot over 喜び 悲しみ 共に生きよう. he could mean live together with our joys and sorrows #or we go through life together in joy and in sorrow #deuce said in mal's vignette the song was about the singer's hope of being able to meet a lot of people #and in the previous line ああ もし許されるのなら he's like if im permitted/allowed to do this so its something he thinks he needs permission to do #and considering quasi's story i felt it was more likely he's asking to walk through life alongside the people through good times and bad #cause in the movie a big part of his story is that frollo drills into quasi that he's not WORTHY of the people's attention and affection #so thats why i went with that interpretation #喜び 悲しみ 皆で歌おう is also unclear. could be sing of our joys and sorrows or sing in joy and sorrow #this is a typical jp song that omits a lot of particles verbs and prepositions so we fans just gotta make our best guesses unfortunately

[vexwerewolf]

why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #gubat banwa #philosophy #ethics #ttrpg

[m0llygunn]

i wish i had met you earlier (eddie munson x reader)

cw: depressing pillow talk and comfort idk, reader was sad and lonely an: a nod to the only boy ive ever loved who coincidentally became the only man ive ever loved. we grew up together and i still wish i had met him earlier. wc: 1k

“I wish I had met you earlier,” you whisper.

“Earlier?” he smiles, nose scrunching at the silliness, not knowing the depth of your sentiment. 

“Yeah,” you smile back. It’s hard not to do— to smile, when his eyes are so soft, and his lips are that plump, just kissed colour, and your body still hums from the evening behind you. His lashes flutter the slightest bit, blinking away your flattery with a bashful roll of his eyes. 

“You’d be sick of me already if we met earlier,” he lightly huffs, cheek squishing further into the softness of your shared pillow, crooking his smile. 

If the lights were on, you’re sure you’d see a flush suffuse across his face. It would highlight the curvature of his cheeks that accompany his boyish simper, and it would emphasize the winsome rounded tip of his nose. When he blushes like that, your heart always adds an extra beat into its rhythm, one that lives for him. You can picture it so clearly, your heart flutters all the same— that’s not the point of this though. 

“I wouldn't be sick of you,” you promise.

“No?”

“I'll never get sick of you.” 

Tactile as always, he draws his affection over your features, trusting his touch to communicate what he feels. His fingertips dance over your cheek bone, daring to grace close enough to your eye to feel the very tips of each silken lash, flittering with every reflexive blink. He feels the fan, every feathery gust of air, and it affects him in magnitudinous ways— feeling any part of you is like that, a full-hearted reminder that you are here. You are here and you are his. 

His palm settles to your cheek, fingers curving just below your ear, cradling the edge of your face. His own version of a promise, he shares his warmth and oath-taken heart through his touch.

“When would you have wanted to meet?” he asks curiously, blinking his own thick lashes at you as his gaze meets yours. 

“Just before high school.”

He smiles widely, “you answered that quickly,” he says, thumb tracing once over the hill of your cheek and back down.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you smile back. You lean into his touch and he draws his thumb across again. You close your eyes for a moment and he does it another time. 

“Why?” 

The softness inside you hardens momentarily at the question. Swallowing thickly, you also know the answer, but it doesn’t come out as quickly. It gets stuck to the roof of your mouth, stuck to the tip of your tongue. His eyes encourage your honesty, and on the sole notion of knowing him and knowing his heart, you trust him with this part of you.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so lonely.”

His thumb glides across your cheek and you watch as his eyes give way to his realization that it wasn’t a light hearted question for you. It wasn’t just pillow talk like it was supposed to be.

“Maybe if I met you then, I wouldn’t have been so sad,” you continue, trying to smile.

“You were sad?” His brows turn up, worry lines settling in. It’s a sorrowful look he gives you, not pity, but a softness, a grief, a regret. 

For a split moment, you think that maybe you should lie— make it all go away. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t, not with him. Not when his hand is so graciously connected to you, and the warmth of his bare chest radiates into yours, and your shared pillow smells like your shared shampoo, and the sheets smell like the laundry soap you picked out together, with hints of your lotion and his body wash scattered throughout like every kiss you’ve ever shared here. Maybe you should lie, but you couldn’t— especially not when you love him and he loves you. 

“I was so sad, Eddie.” 

You muster a smile, but it betrays you, trembling just under your lower lip. The corners of your mouth remain pointed high, but it’s not a smile, not with the way your lips purse tightly, holding back what your eyes cannot. Your lash line fills, but less than a few side fallen tears survive the heavy blinks that draw them back inwards.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, thumb tracing under your eye this time. He pulls you forward with the lightest touch, a gentle encouragement, and a purposeful reminder that he’s here. He's here and he’s yours. 

One day you’d like to explain it all, but it’s a hard feeling to understand. You’re not sure if it’s wholly a feeling to begin with— it’s more like a ghost. A haunting of all the feelings that used to exist. It washes over you in fast moving gray clouds, settling into your chest like heavy smoke in your lungs, lingering only long enough to remind you of how it was. Just enough to make you sputter, but not enough to hold the bleak weight of it all once again.

Breath coming out heaving and choked, Eddie’s palm glides to the back of your neck. His thumb presses soothingly into the tensed and taut muscles, and as soft as air he breathes a whispered apology against your lips— a simple ‘sorry,’ but it translates to so much more when he holds you like he does. 

Sorry for bringing it up. 

Sorry for the ghosts in your lungs. 

Sorry for the years of you that died all alone with nobody to mourn them. 

Sorry that no matter how many flowers you bring to their grave, they still come back, just like this, to haunt you.

Sorry— breathed against your lips and into your lungs, filling you with the gift of a life with him in it. 

“It’s not your fault,” you answer.

“I know,” he replies.

“I’m still glad I met you when I did,” you say. 

He looks into your eyes, steady gaze sincere with a tender adornment. Entirely loving, but his usually gladness is hindered by the gravity of the moment. He moves in closer to you again, lips just barely brushing yours as he speaks. 

“I wish I had met you earlier,” he whispers.

———

ty! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst

[unforth]

Danmei and Baihe C Novels and Manhua Officially Licensed in English

Things are getting licensed fast enough that keeping a list like this up-to-date is basically impossible, but I saw someone asking in the tags so I figured I'd try. All titles are danmei unless otherwise noted (very little baihe is licensed so far). I've included Chinese titles and linked novelupdates for each title when I was able to find them, but sometimes publishers change the original titles so much that I can't track them down, apologies.

Basically: this is everything I know of as of April 12, 2024. There might be more. I tried.

For the latest danmei news, Danmeinews.com is a great resources.

Note that some of this information was sourced from this Carrd, last updated in March 2023.

-

Seven Seas:

The full list of danmei novels licensed by Seven Seas is here. The full list of danmei manhua licensed by Seven Seas is here.

These titles are in various stages of publication, from "entire series released" to "license literally announced less than a week ago." As far as I know, all Seven Seas titles are available world-wide, through major distributors and libraries, and in e-book and print formats.

Mo Xiang Tong Xiu titles:

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (Ren Zha Fanpai Zijiu Xitong).

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi) manhua

Heaven Official's Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu)

Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat titles:

Case File Compendium (Bing an Ben)

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (Erha he Ta de Bai Mao Shizun)

Remnants of Filth (Yuwu)

Meng Xi Shi titles:

Thousand Autumns (Qian Qiu)

Peerless (Wushuang)

priest titles:

Guardian (Zhenhun)

Stars of Chaos (Sha Po Lang)

Other titles:

Ballad of Sword and Wine (Qiang Jin Jiu) by Tang Jiuqing

I Ship My Rival x Me (Wo Kele Duijia x Wo de CP) manhua by PEPA

Run Wild (Saye) by Wu Zhe

The Disabled Tyrant's Beloved Pet Fish (Canji Baojun de Zhangxin Yu Chong) by Xue Shan Fei Hu

You've Got Mail: The Perils of Pigeon Post (Fei Ge Jiao You Xu Jin Shen) by Blackegg

-

Rosmei:

Rosmei licenses are Singapore distribution rights only. There is a list of international partners organizing group orders here. I've personally placed my orders through Yiggybean, as discussed in reply to this ask.

These titles are only being released as print editions.

Eta: titles that weren't originally on JJWXC (of which there are several here) WILL have e-book editions.

Ning Yuan titles:

BAIHE: At the World's Mercy by Ning Yuan

BAIHE (I think???) The Creator's Grace by Ning Yuan

priest titles:

Coins of Destiny (Liu Yao)

The Defectives (Can Ci Pin)

Drowning Sorrows in Raging Fire (Lie Huo Jiao Chou)

Other titles:

Albert from Earth by Jie Mo Jun

The Bat (Bian Fu) by Feng Nong

Breaking Through the Clouds (Po Yun) by Huai Shang

Don't You Like Me (Ni Shi Bushi Xihuan Wo) by Lv Tian Yi

The Earth is Online (Diqiu Shangxian) by Mo Chen Huan

Everyone Loves the Cannon Fodder (Chuan Cheng Wan Ren Mi de Paohui Zhuma) by Qie Zai Shan Yang

Global Examination (Qianqiu Gao Kao) by Mu Su Li

Gold Class Enforcers (Jinpai Dashou) by Pao Pao Xue Er

How to Survive as a Villain (Chuanyue Cheng Fanpai Yao Ruhe Huming) by Yi Yi Yi Yi

Kaleidoscope of Death (Siwang Wanhuatong) by Xi Zi Xu

The Killer of Killers (Sha Qing) by Wu Yi

Nan Chan by Tang Jiuqing

Obsessed (Ki Ma) by Wu Chen Shui

Wine and Gun (Jiu yu Qiang) by Mengye Mengye

Wow, You Guys are Really Good at Gaming (Nimen Nansheng Da Youxi Hao Lihai O~) by Yi Xiu Luo

-

Peach Flower House:

Peach Flower House titles are primarily for sale through their website and through some distributors, such as Amazon.com. Whether titles are e-book only, print only, or both varies by title.

Da Feng Gua Guo:

The Imperial Uncle (Huang Shu)

Peach Blossom Debt (Taohua Zhai)

Other Titles:

Golden Terrace (Huang Jin Tai) by Cang Wu Bin Bai

In the Dark (Zai Hei An Zhong) by Jin Shisi Chai

Little Mushroom (Xiao Mogu) by Shisi

University of the Underworld by Ziloi

-

Via Lactea:

The full list of danmei novels licensed by Via Lactea is here.

Via Lactea titles are primarily for sale through their website and through some distributors, such as Amazon.com. All titles are either print-only or e-book + print. Only a handful have actually been released, the rest are licensed and presumably in progress.

Jing Shui Bian titles:

Salad Days (Jing Jiu)

Silent Hearts (Mo Mai)

Other Titles:

Dawning (Liming Zhihou) by ICE

Euthanasia by Feng Su Jun

Falling (Luo Chi) by Yu Cheng

Psycho (Feng Zi) by Xiao Yao Zi

Limerence (Wo Xichen Ni Nan Pengyou Henjiule) by Jiang Zi Bei

Lip and Sword (Chun Qiang) by Jin Shisi Chai

The Missing Piece (Maoheshenli) by Kun Yi Wei Lou

Raising Myself in 2006 by Qing Lv

Rose and Renaissance (Wo Zhi Xihuan Ni de Renshe [Yule Quan]) by Zhi Chu

Killing Show (Sha Lu Xiu) by Fox

Soul Vibration (Linghun Saodong) by Dr.solo

To Rule in a Turbulent World (Luan Shi Wei Wang) by Gu Xuerou

-

Monogatari Novels:

It is unclear to me if Monogatari Novel titles are available for world-wide distribution, but there are group orders being organized or I think they can be ordered directly from their webpage; they are based in Spain. These titles can also be ordered from at least some major retailers. Note that there has been some controversy about Monogatari Novels.

BAIHE: A Clear and Muddy Loss of Love (Jing Wei Qing Shang) by Please Don't Laugh

BAIHE: Female General and Eldest Princess (NuJiangjun he Zhang Gongzhu) by Please Don't Laugh

How to Survive as a Villain (Chuan Yue Cheng Fanpai Yao Ru He Huo Ming) manhua by Yi Yi Yi Yi

The Legendary Master's Wife (Chuanshuo Zhi Zhu de Furen) by Yin Ya

The Silent Concubine (Ya Nu) by Qiang Tang

BAIHE: Soulmate manhua by Wenzhi Lizi

-

Aloha Comics:

A tiny, Hawaii-based press focusing on manhua. Titles appear to primarily be available through Diamond Comics. There are also pre-orders on Yiggybean. All of these are pre-orders, though the earliest are coming out by the end of April 2024 (about two weeks after when I'm posting this).

All these titles are manhua!

Day Off by Qing Cai

Here U Are by DJUN

Link Click by Li Haoling and Haoliners (not technically danmei!)

Nirvana in Fire (Lang Ya Bang) by Hai Yan (not technically danmei!)

-

Chaleuria:

As far as I can tell, Chaleuria has not updated their webpage since April 2023, so the current status of in-progress titles is unknown. All titles are digital and/or e-book, and I'm not sure how to purchase them as I haven't tried.

Complete Guide to the Use and Care of a Personal Assistant (Zhuli Shiyong Zhinan) by Why Radiance

Deep in the Act (Ru Xi) by Tongzi

Fake Slackers (Wei Zhuang Xue Zha) by Mu Gua Huang (no longer available)

From Body to Love (Leng Yan E Nan: Xian Shenhou Ai) by Wan Wan Yi Xia

Interstellar Power Couple (Xingji Qiangli Lianyin) by Kun Cheng Xiongmao (no longer available)

Intoxicated Friends (Zui Qing Zhi Pengyou) by Ye Shu Ying

The Long Chase for the President's Spouse (Zongcai Zhui Fu Lu Manman) by Three Thousand Crow Language

Reborn into a Hamster for 233 Days (Chong Shengcheng Cangshu de 233 Tian) by Yi Shu

Records of the Dragon Follower (Cong Long Ji) by Yueren Ge

Urban Tales of Demons and Spirits (Dushi Yaogui Lu) by Qie Er

World Hopping: Avenge Our Love (Ni Wufa Yuliao de Fenshou, Wo Du Neng Gei Ni Song Shang) by Xiaomao Bu Ai Jiao (no longer available)

-

Honorable Mentions:

There are a handful of titles I know of that are official translations of C Novels, where the C Novels aren't danmei or baihe but are often treated as adjacent within fandom (as in: I've seen people shipping characters from them, lol). I've included two above under the entry for titles from Aloha Comics (Link Click and Nirvana in Fire) and here are a couple others I currently know of:

The Grave Robbers' Chronicles (Daomu Biji) by Nanpai Sanshu (six volumes are available in English from Things Asian Press

The Legend of the Condor Heroes (She Diao Yingxiong Chuan) by Jin Yong from St. Martin's Press

Romance of the Three Kingdoms (Sanguo Yanyi), attributed to Luo Guanzhong, available in multiple translations

The Seven Heroes and Five Gallants (Zonglie Xiayi Chuan), attributed to Shi Yukun, there are two translations to English listed at the linked Wikipedia page

Note that to the best of my knowledge both of these are considered very substandard translations. I've personally read the official DMBJ translations and... yeah... and I've heard the LOCH translation is also mediocre.

I will add to the "Honorable Mentions" list if I find any other more mainstream titles with official translations.

Please don't come at me for including a couple classics. The characters shippable, what can I do? I've written fic for Romance of the Three Kingdoms...

-

A handful of other licenses are mentioned on the Carrd I linked at the beginning of this post; I have no idea the status of those titles and wasn't able to find information on them while putting together this post other than what was listed on that Carrd, so I've omitted them.

As a final note, I've personally purchased from every printer on this list EXCEPT Monogatari Novels (I'm holding off because of the controversy and will see how things play out) and Chaleuria (which I vaguely knew existed but nothing beyond that).

Seven Seas translation varies but the editing is general strong and the editions are sturdy and nice. Extras that have come with final volumes are lovely. I am buying literally everything they publish except for You've Got Mail, due to information about the author that was shared with me that the author is a transphobe. Note that Kinnporsche by Daemi is not danmei as it's Thai (and I've heard unsavory things about the author - I don't have a link for that as the information was shared with me on Discord, and I encourage you to do your own research rather than taking my word for it). No judgement if you make a different choice than me, to be clear, I'm just sharing the information I have and why I personally am not buying the books). Note that Seven Seas isn't without controversy, especially for treating their contractors poorly resulting in them unionizing. Some people have also been unhappy with the fidelity of their translations compared to the original Chinese (I've been satisfied personally but ymmv).

Peach Flower House has inconsistent inconsistent editing quality, but the books are very readable, and I'm excited that they're working with translators such as E. Danglars. I haven't bought any of their special editions so can't speak to their extras, but I've bought all their print translations and will continue to do so going forward.

I just got my first title from Via Lactea last week and finished reading it on Sunday, and the translation read very well and there were minimal errors. It also came with a bundle of cute extras, which I wasn't expecting and pleased, and writing this post has caused me to cave and spend $150 to buy the rest of their books. Thank you, tax refund. (Should I spend this money? No. Did I anyway? ...)

No Rosmei titles have actually shipped yet, so I can't speak to their quality, though the previews they've shared on social media (as outlined here, for example) read decently and I'm optimistic. The cover art is also lovely, and they've been communicative and responsive, for example they've already issued a statement related to a recent controversy over perceived poor marketing for At the World's Mercy.

Tl:dr, the above is absolutely everything I personally know about mlm and wlw Chinese novels and manhua that have been licensed for English publication. I hope it helps someone.

Now go forth, and buy some books!

#danmei #baihe #mxtx #priest #priest novels #tang jiuqing #mu su li #meng xi shi #yi yi yi yi #this probably needs a billion other tags but oh well #i've been meaning to write something like this for ages #like there's literally a similar post saved in my drafts #but apparently today is the day i don't have the willpower to not #as also evidenced by my literally buying some of these books while in the middle of putting the post together lmao #i broke a windshield wiper on sunday and SHOULD spend money fixing that instead but here we are #at least it's the passenger side wiper??? #anyway as always just tryin to do my part to get people to read more than just mxtx #not that i don't love mxtx #but please guys there's so much amazing stuff out there READ MORE BOOKS

[bluberryfields]

"David is very easy to fall in love with." - Michael Sheen

Hi. How are you? Good, I hope. Okay, so can we talk about just how fucking beautiful David Tennant is? And by “we” I mean “I” and by “talk” I mean “babble incoherently into the void”? Great! I’ll attempt to impose a bit of organization on this just to satisfy my pathological need to inflict structure on words (thanks college/job/brain), but I can’t promise much. Also, there will be A LOT of pictures and gifs. (you’re welcome?)

And this isn’t just because I am deep in the bottomless well of Good Omens fandom and that Crowley is basically the most breathtaking creature that has ever existed. Well, not just because of that.

*cue Aziraphale's "good lord" from 1793*

ANYWAY, like a lot of people, I became a fan of (i.e., fell deeply and irrevocably in love with) DT during his run as the 10th Doctor. He was young and bright and full of just about everything – joy, sorrow, wit – making him incredibly watchable. His look was also so charming: big bouncy rooster comb of hair, absurdly cheeky smile, expressive-as-fuck eyes and eyebrows, and a tall, lanky form that seemed to be made of rubber and the kind of granulated sugar that could only be found in candy from the 90s that are now banned in all first- and second-world countries.

So yeah, I was super into him and his Doctor’s adventures. And I continued to watch him in other projects and still swoon (looking at you, slutty Hamlet)

even at characters where that was not the desired reaction (fuck you, Kilgrave, you delicious monster).

I would also always become a bit (a lot) weak in the knees at his voice regardless of which accent he took on, though always preferring him doing any Scottish brogue because of fucking course.

Roll that tongue, you sexy beast.

But what I want to get into today is just how incredible he looks in the year of 2023.

He’s 52 years old and I am somehow even more attracted to him. Maybe it’s because I am myself older, and my tastes have matured alongside? I certainly do enjoy gray hair way more than I did 10 years ago.

He’s aged incredibly well, probably a combination of good genes and good health, and he’s clearly not clinging to the Hollywood idea of “youth”.

(insert obligatory grumble about the double standards of men being praised for aging and women being demonized…the potentially problematic nature of the term “aging well” in general…acknowledge this with my enlightened brain but ignore this with my slutty heart…fuck the patriarchy, etc. etc.)

He’s still tall and skinny, even gangly at times, all long arms and legs that can move in impossible directions with unfathomable grace.

His face is leaner, that incredible bone structure creating sharper edges that draw the eye. Speaking of the face, he’s got these creases on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes and mouth that are evidence of time spent well: smiling, laughing, living. Makes you want to trace your fingertips along each one.

Oh god that smile? Good lord. It’s weapons grade charm that can also be quite intimidating. Sweet, humble, silly, scary…full spectrum of options here! His shark smile is the definition of “irresistible” in my Dictionary of Delicious Dudes.

I am both proud of and grossed out by my own word choice.

Continuing with that face...the hawkish nose, the dimples you want to drown in, the big eyes, those motherfucking eyebrows...

I could seriously write a whole essay about those eyebrows, but I already give my therapist enough to worry about.

Oh those eyes. “Piercing” is a term usually reserved for blue eyes, but I would argue it applies to DT’s bottomless chocolate pools in that they slice through my heart every damn time.

Honorable mention does go to those Crowley snake eyes because they could have been distracting and diminishing to his overall look, but they absolutely are not.

Such a pretty shade of yellow.

Random tangent to swoon about his hands. For whatever reason, I like checking out a man’s hands, and DT’s got a set that drives me wild. I can’t even really explain why, but I just really like the way he articulates with them. Crowley is a perfect example, what with the miracle snaps, caressing globes, and holding whisky glasses. Yum.

Delicious demon digits

Fresh tangent: How does this fucker look good clean shaven, with stubble, and a goddamn beard? How is that allowed?

He's got a face that makes me wanna take up sculpting

Further, how is his fucking neck so hot? Like, seriously, show me the math. I can’t stop staring at it. And when it’s cloaked in a turtleneck? Please, sir, may I have some more?

Fuuuuuuuck

With no segue whatsoever, I am absolutely obsessed with his hair, across all contexts. Big, bold, blood-red Crowley coifs (especially in Season 2)? Check.

Proper gentleman side part? Check.

Side shave with cartoonishy springy 14th Doctor shock? Check.

Lockdown locks with and without headband? Check!

It’s a goddamn buffet of delicious options.

Oh damn speaking of that 14th Doctor look? Good fucking Christ on a buttery Ritz cracker. The whole DT collection is on display: the hair, the eyes, the bone structure, the smile, the clothes, and even the glasses!

To quote Pam on Archer, “I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now! I mean, not that you would.”

Now that you (I) mention the clothes, I never cease to marvel at how he can wear pretty much anything and look amazing. Stripes, patterns, wild colors, etc. He just always looks…not exactly comfortable, but sort of at ease like the clothes were created with him in mind. And this goes across the spectrum of Casual to Costume to Promotional (e.g., interviews and premieres).

They are almost illegally cute together

We all know by now how ridiculously tight those Crowley pants are and how it influenced his signature serpentine swagger (thank you, Costume department, you’re the real heroes). That said, he and those slinky hips still looks so incredibly natural in them like they came from his actual closet.

Stupid sexy snek

And he pulls off the look of more ridiculous stuff like full Shakespearean costumes or that sad gray-hoodie-black-shorts-and-Wellington-boots combo from the first season of Staged. He somehow gives off the air of “whatever, they’re just clothes, man” while also looking like a damn model.

Georgia is a very lucky woman

Final thoughts: I know DT dislikes talking about how people think he’s so attractive because I’m sure it feels a bit icky if you just want to live your life and do your job. But my guy also clearly understands that he’s not some ghoul who has succeeded on incredible personality and acting chops alone. So, that said, maybe he'll forgive me for posting such a long, rambling, ode to him?

#david tennant #crowley #thank you for coming to my ted talk #really more of a david talk #i feel very normal about him #not at all feral or rabid #staged #doctor who #10th doctor #14th doctor #kilgrave #good omens gifs #good omens #good omens 2 #gif warning #slinky hips #crowley's hair is like a separate character #both an appreciation AND an objectification #Youtube #i just really like hands ok #they grow them differently in Scotland #he's got hands that I want to touch and be touched by

[vivalabunbun]

The Aftermath of Summer

Summary: Who stays to watch the credits roll at the end of a film?

Word Count: 3.4k

Tags: Alhaitham X Fem!Reader, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, Fluff, Angst, Grief, TW: Talks about death, themes about death, sfw, slight! reincarnation themes, broke student life.

Authors Note: The aftermath of looking over the garden wall to see the flowers. I hope this piece brings to rest the questions that may or may not remain unanswered. Enjoy!

The garden was empty tonight, the sun had long been chased away by the dark entourage of the night and her stars.

The gates should’ve been sealed, locked by chains and heavy locks to separate the hearts that still beat and those that have decayed. 

However, as a creature that’s born forever outside the delicate balance, how can these gates stop him?

Or simply the watcher who wanders about these grounds looks the other way, to give this pitifully foolish vampire a semblance of privacy. 

Even the moon covered herself with clouds, trying not to peek as Alhaitham knelt down next to a polished rock.

There were double as many flowers in his arms tonight, the fragrance carried by the late breeze was twice as overbearing. 

It doesn’t bother him, after all, his senses have been steeled against this. 

A variable walked through the sliding doors at the office tonight, disrupting Alhaitham’s treasured routine with a bitterly sweet bouquet. 

–

“Secretary Alhaitham.” A voice called as a hand knocked against the wooden frame of his office. 

Said vampire responds with a grunt of acknowledgment, pen only pausing when a familiar fragrance fills the air. 

“You have a visitor.” Faruzan steps to the side, nose scrunched up at the unaccustomed scent. 

Familiar scarlet locks shuffled into view of teal eyes, hands fiddling with the ends of a silk ribbon that contained the bundle together.

It’s hard to not put a name to that shade of hair, Nilou, it’s been a while. 

When was the last time he saw the faces of your dearest friends? Perhaps a few months back, while a coffin was lowered into the cold ground alone. 

That day was mockingly clear, the sky showing off her most vibrant hues of orange, violet, and pink, brilliant colors competing with those of the blooms thrown into the lonely pit.

No words were exchanged between him and the guests. The same faces of those who once danced and smiled with you within the decorated walls of a wedding venue are now deep in mourning. 

So much so that they collectively overlooked the immortal creature who stood amongst them, or perhaps they were too self-absorbed in their own sorrows to extend any grace to him.

After all, in their eyes, how could a creature like him ever understand the grief experienced by those with finite time? 

It was for the best, Alhaitham is never in the mood to engage in meaningless small talk, there’s no need for them to give him their hollow condolences.

Instead, he shall stand guard just off to the side, eyes observing every toss of cold dirt until the lacquered box was no longer visible. 

Sealing the gates to an unexplored sanctuary that held answers untold.

Alhaitham places his pen down, turning his full attention to the young lady who brought a physical memory into his office. 

“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham… um, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.”  

Giving a curt nod to Faruzan, he dismisses her from his office, giving him and the guest some privacy.

The polite silence encouraged her to finish stating her purpose this late evening, the ashen-haired vampire awaits patiently with his hands folded atop the desk. 

“I… I know there isn’t a reason for you to keep in contact with us, but… I felt it’s only right to show gratitude towards you for everything you’ve done.” 

The scarlet-haired lady closes her eyes, chest expanding with a deep inhale, mind stringing together her unrehearsed lines. 

“Originally, I wanted to bring Dehya and Candace along, but… their jobs kept them busy.” 

It’d be quite the sight, two hunters thanking the very creatures they’ve spent their whole careers ripping the hearts out of. Even if it might seem like a thinly veiled excuse, Alhaitham knew Nilou’s words were sincere. 

The firm hand on the shoulder Dehya gave him at the end of committal service, once the mourns finished shedding their tears over freshly dug dirt, was enough for him to understand. 

As expected of a hunter, the strength in her grip on his shoulder stung, but she didn’t let go and he didn’t make any moves to brush her off.

A moment of silence for two grieving beings to communicate their shared pain, both caused a by void that can never be filled. 

After a few breaths, the flame-mane hunter releases her hold, wordlessly parting from him. As his teal gaze moves back up they connect with heterochromatic eyes.

Candace simply steadies her stare, then closes her lids as she nods in silent understanding. He mirrors her actions, and she then joins her mortal companions. 

The only gestures he accepted that horrid day, olive branches handed over by two sides.

“She used to always close her eyes when she smiled, but after she married you, she smiled with her eyes open.” 

A clever habit you had, concealing the apathetic vacuums of your irises when your lips curled, otherwise it’d distract from the radiant grin.

A brilliant technique utilized by an actress as skilled as you. 

“Thank you, thank you so much for making her happy, she really was happy.” 

The air remains silent, but his hands were gripping each other just a tab bit tighter. 

Alhaitham’s pride would never allow him to confess the truth, it’s embarrassing to admit that a creature who’s lived through multiple lifetimes couldn’t decrypt the actions of a mere mortal. 

Your performance was just that captivating, blurring the distinction between a daydream and reality. Bravo. 

Nilou carefully places the bouquet upon a vacant spot on his desk, they gave each other a nob in acknowledgment before parting ways yet again.

Perhaps the final applause after the credits have rolled. 

–

Brushing away the wilted bouquet before setting down the bright blooms still fresh with the vigor of life. Gathering the debris to ensure the soft glow of the night could reflect off the glossy surface, you always liked watching the stars.

In the empty silence of the garden offered Alhaitham the serenity of a deep reflection.

Away from the rowdy city streets and obnoxious office phones. He reviews the past seven years, emending his past assessment of your character.

You weren’t a capricious breeze nor were you a delicate flower. You were a human, a strange human, but a human nonetheless. The purest embodiment of mortality. 

That’s how Alhaitham will remember you, that’s how you wanted to be remembered. It’s his final duty as your husband,  he’ll carry it out with the same dedication. 

Technically speaking, not all clauses were truly fulfilled. 

The ashen-haired creature stands by the grave for a few beats more, before his feet finally broke free from their trance.

Redirecting his body towards the gates, his back facing your headstone. But it’s fine, he has to wipe down the polished stone tomorrow night. 

For now, let the stars keep your company. 

Readjusting to the tediousness of a solitary life was unexpectedly troublesome. Alhaitham never realized just how quickly dust loves to accumulate upon untouched surfaces.

How can objects still get dirty even when there’s no interference with their existence? A question not even the universe can answer. 

For his idle eyes to be bothered by the subtle hints of dust and misaligned book spines, you truly did an outstanding job in your household duties, honoring the agreements printed on the contract.  

The dryer sings its tone, Alhaitham places the dust cloth down to attend to the laundry before wrinkles can settle in. It's strange really, how certain scents can never be replicated by teams of scientists.

No detergent could ever truly hold the fragrance of a morning star.

However, it would be far too tiresome for a creature of the night to voluntarily embrace the stinging light just for a familiar whiff of solace.

He’ll just have to get used to the artificial aroma of fresh linen, after all these years, Alhaitham has gotten comfortable with the notion of change, an experienced expert in adapting to the times.

Nothing is immune to change, nothing can remain the same when the hands of a clock tick forward.

Thus, the clothes you once owned no longer hold the scent you once dawned. Yet, if he were to remove them… the closet would be too empty, best to leave them there.

With the laundry now checked off the list, Alhaitham returns back to the living room where he left one responsibility unfinished. Picking up the cloth square once more, he wipes the layer of dust from the neglected remote. 

Some of the print among the rubber buttons were faded, signs of wear from indecisive fingers as they debate which show they should settle on for the night.

Something passionate? Comedy? Dramatic? Which genre did you prefer the most?

His firm motions with the cloth absentmindedly pass over a certain button, allowing the large screen a long-awaited chance to flicker back on. Accompanying the bright flash of colors came the crisp audio of a rehearsed conversion between the two characters on screen.

Alhaitham stills as his head turns toward the TV. 

It must be a newly released drama, one with fresh faces and a carefully selected cast. It’s such a shame that all their efforts are wasted in vain, for there’s no audience upon a worn coach to appreciate their work. 

With that thought, Alhaitham sets the remote down as his ageless body settles into the sofa just adjacent to the centered coach.

The night is still young, dust will accumulate nevertheless, it wouldn’t make a difference in taking another break. 

-

There’s a line of distinction between a mind that’s been cultivated by the pages of a book and a mind that’s been entertained by artistically framed scenes.

When one crosses the other, the gap in understanding reveals itself, manifesting in the confusion of how to appreciate such things. 

It’s how you felt when trying to interpret the texts written long before you were born, face scrunched up in focus as your eyes move across the aged paper. 

It’s how he feels as he observes the two lead actors as disembodied laughter rang out. 

The pacing was slow, dialogue uninteresting to an immortal that’s long-lived past the experience of university. But, it’d be a waste to not finish something he intended to do from the start. 

The cushions were soft, supporting his settling frame as the tension leaves his muscles, beckoning his eyelids to lower, luring him into the darkness that lay behind them. 

“Haitham~ are you alive?” A voice brushes against his face. 

The presence of someone intruding upon his personal space made his body alert again, the wisps of sleep vanish.

Slowly he lifts up his leaden lids, blinking the haze of sleep away, vision gradually clearing to reveal your grinning face. 

“Are you finally done with the assignments you’ve procrastinated?” 

“I didn’t procrastinate, I knew I could finish them in time for the deadline and I did.” His voice still gruff with sleep. 

“Your breath stinks of coffee.”

“What an observation, coffee is a common beverage consumed by all walks of life.”

“Haitham, it’s 10 pm.” 

“It isn’t exclusive to one time.” 

An exaggerated huff leaves your lips as you folded, plotting your body right on top of his, the aged couch creaking in protest.

Instinctively, his arms opened to catch your frame, embracing you gently against his chest. Feeling the rhythm of your heart beating in time with his. 

“Stubborn.” You muttered. 

“Summarizing yourself?” Alhaitham bites back a chuckle as a balled-up fist gently knocks against his torso. 

It’s been a while since you’ve had a tender moment like this. Deadlines and exams brought on by the warming air of a concluding semester keep you both on a tight schedule. Only able to exchange brief greets during quick breaks of packaged meals. 

You sink deeper into his arms as he rests his face against your neck. Enjoying the warmth generated between your two bodies, coaxing the exhaustion away from each other’s limbs. 

‘I miss you.’ A silent sentiment wordlessly conveyed by the extended entanglement. 

“You didn’t eat dinner yet.”

Alhaitham lets a soft chuckle escape in the form of a quick huff, how perceptive you are when it comes to his well-being.  

“Skipping meals isn’t healthy,” You scolded as a finger jabbed against his shoulder. 

“I’m aware.” 

“Good, the noodles should be ready by now, c’mon.” 

Reluctantly, Alhaitham allows you out of his arms, letting his heavy body follow your tugging hands toward the old and stained kitchen table.

Teal eyes notice the freshly placed cups of noodles, steam leaking out from the sides of their paper lids held down by two forks. 

“It’s the fourth night we’ve had cup noodles this week.” He states the obvious. 

“So?” You quirk a brow at his announcement. 

“We’ll get sodium poisoning.”

“It’s fine, Haitham, our bodies are young, we'll live.” 

“And these choices will come back to bite us in the future.”

“Shush and eat your food.” You plotted down at your spot at the chipped table, cheek puffed out. 

An absolutely endearing sight. So much so that Alhaitham will rein in his sardonic quips for now, joining you in his spot just across the stained surface.

Ripping the flimsy top off the styrofoam cup, the artificial chicken flavoring sedates his ravenous appetite as he takes a bite.

A sacred respite for any student on a tight budget, empty calories that suppress the growling of stomachs. 

From across the table, his teal gaze watches as you savor your last bite. 

“You can have the rest of mine.”

“No, you’re a growing boy, you need to eat.” 

“The male body fully develops by age eighteen-”

“Shush and eat your food.”  

Your soft lips formed a frown once again, how could he not cave into your demands? Alhaitham takes another bite of the noodles. 

In just a few more semesters he’ll get his hands on a flimsy piece of paper, proving his qualifications to some white-collar job.

He'll earn a paycheck big enough to treat you to a nice steak basted with red wine.

Away from this cluttered box with creaky floors and rumbling pipes.

Then after a few years, the two of you could follow a realtor through a spacious house atop a hill, yard fenced in nicely, and located a reasonable distance away from the bustling city. 

Just endure the endless assignments and demanding exams for a little while longer. 

Styrofoam cups carelessly thrown into the trash, forks washed and set out in the drying wrack. The minimal effort of house cleaning was achieved.

As a reward, two figures found themselves pulled back to the worn cushions of a couch. Melting into each other's touches, fingertips trying to memorize every curve and edge. 

From outside a window left ajar, its hinges rusted with age and neglect, came the first symphony of the crickets. Singing to celebrate the new season which breathes back life into the trees and their leaves. 

Your hands tenderly cupped his face pulling him closer, cheeks touching as your noses perfectly rested against each other.

The leaden weight pulling on his eyelids returned, head dozing into your gentle warmth.

“I love you.” Your whisper so soft it was almost lost in the wind.

Fighting against the droopy pull, his sight centered on your content expression, tranquil gaze reflecting the teal of his irises as you await his response. 

Alhaitham’s firm arms pulled your frame flushed against his, burying his face back into the crook of your neck. Deep breath intaking the light fragrance which held hints of a sunny day. 

“I love you… to the extent it’s unfathomable.” His full truth. 

A truth that couldn’t be left untold. 

“Pfft! You and your fancy words again,” you giggled.

The tickling sensation of your bell-like giggles vibrating against his frame cause the corners of his lips to curl.

Your fingers found their way to his ashen hair, tracing faint patterns along his scalp as you tussled his messy locks. 

Mesmerizing motions making him lose the battle with the sweet call of sleep. The stone-faced man allowing your trailing fingers to beckon him deeper into the temperate waves of dreams. 

Alhaitham’s eyes opened again, lids dawdlingly fluttering open and shut again as the rolling credits of tonight’s spontaneous episode played against the glass screen.

His arms rested unfurled by his sides, nothing in the space against his cold hands. 

Closing his eyes shut once more, efforts now conflicted between prying open the doors of sleep to plunge back into the cloudy waters of dreams or blinking the lingering traces away.

Lungs not daring to take another breath in case they distract from the task at hand.

1… 2… 3

A low sigh leaves his lips, ashen lashes opening up to observe the teal eyes staring back from the dark credit screen.

It seems the keeper of dreams felt this vile creature has overstayed his welcome for tonight.

Locking up the iron gates as they stood mockingly on the other side dangling the key between their fingers. 

It doesn’t matter. The dream has already served its purpose. Allowing Alhaitham to say the lines in a script that he wasn’t able to complete in time. 

It made the void ache just a bit less.

It seems that Alhaitham has unraveled the truth behind your daydreaming habits. 

The itch in his palm has long faded away, the ailment cured by clarity only attainable after one processes the cold truth. Analytical mind returning to rationality untainted by the desperation of false hope. 

To be condemned to forever wheeze at each gasp of air, to be bound to a bed by agony searing your every cell. Who is willing to pay the price of eternity?

Stopping the hands of a clock wouldn’t be much different than a punishment delivered from the deepest depths of hell.

How could mortal medicine ever turn back the hands of a clock? Simple, it can’t.

Nothing can. 

To forever freeze a sinking ship between the thundering skies of life and the endless pits of death, doomed to never drown but never be resuced for eternity.

A fate worse than anything on the two polar opposite sides. 

It’d be plain cruel. Childishly cruel. 

Alhaitham wouldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t do that to you. 

Instead, he simply held your hand tight. Taking away any fear, any anxieties, any regrets as your body sank deeper beneath the waves, until the furrow between your brows disappeared.

Watching the peace gracing your features as your head descends into the murky depths. 

Letting your fingers slip through the gaps in his as he stays atop his floating raft of immortality. 

Letting your gold bands catch on each other one last time. Letting the laws of nature and unnamed gods pull you away from his side, forever concealing you behind a wall he’ll never be able to peer over. 

As it was fated to be, he knows. 

If you had a healthy body, one that could live up to 80 years… maybe a little more, you wouldn’t have chosen him.

You never would’ve signed a contract.

You never would’ve cast a passing glance at him on the street. 

You would’ve embraced another, one who could walk hand and hand with you through the garden gates.

You didn’t ask to be born with that body, and he didn’t ask to be born with his. 

Paths predestined at birth to never fully merge, a wall forever dividing them. 

Yet, during the brief time they touched, the scenery was breathtaking.

If he had finite time, a body exhausted by late nights of piled-up assignments, with nothing but twenty mora to his name. 

He’d choose that over sitting in an empty house with luxurious furniture, excessive assets sitting to rot in bank vaults, and a silk-covered bed too big for a singular body. 

He’d choose to be the one who could walk through the gates of the Pardis Dhyai, hand and hand with you. 

--

Only in a mirage could that exist. 

Sitting across a small kitchen table, him with his instant coffee, you with your dining hall stolen tea.

Notepad given out by some random campus event being scribbled on. Ballpoint pen jotting down the items carefully calculated: Milk, eggs, and more cup noodles. 

Only in a dream could he sit in the bright rays of a star, enjoying its warmth side by side with you. 

Alhaitham shuts off the TV, the greeting songs of birds from outside closed curtains now creeping through.

Slowly his frame emerges from its sedentary position, the dust cloth long forgotten to the side. 

A sofa is no proper place to rest. Maybe clean sheets can replicate the purpose of cold dirt.

Such futile thoughts, unbefitting of such a noble creature. 

But, he's been craving sleep lately, longing for the warmth of a fantastical sun. 

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #al-haitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham headcanons #genshin impact x you #vivalabunbunfics #alhaitham x you #alhaitham angst #alhaitham #alhaitham x yn #genshin angst #genshin vampire au #genshin modern au #genshin alhaitham

[frost-queen]

Dragon’s bond (Daughter!R x Rhaenyra & Daemon)

Requested by: anon; Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco @idkwhatmyusernam,  @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr​​

Rhaenyra picked up the dragon egg with gentle care. Her expression full of sorrow and concern. Daemon came to her side, drawing her attention to him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as Rhaenyra showed him the dragon egg. Daemon batted his gaze down, knowing what it meant. He took the unhatched egg from her. Rhaenyra took a deep shivering breath, stroking over her stomach to smoothen herself in another role. With a new plastered expression bend she over the crib. Picking up the baby laying inside. 

Little head resting on her shoulder, she started rocking. – “My little Y/n.” – she whispered. – “It will all be alright…” – she left a few kisses against your head. Daemon stroking his hand down her back while with his other hand he brushed against your cheek. – “She will be fine… even without a dragon.” – Daemon reassured her. He brought his head closer, kissing his wife’s forehead. – “She will be just fine…”

“Y/n! hold up!” – Jacaerys called out running after you. Guards barely turned a glance at you running and giggling through the corridors at Dragonstone. Your tiny feet moving faster then you could keep up. – “Y/n!” – Jacaerys your eldest brother shouted. You stopped and turned at the end of the corridor, Jacaerys taking a hold. He exhaled loud, thinking you had given up the chance. You thought otherwise. Sticking your tongue out to him, you mocked him for not catching you. – “Y/n! You must get dressed!” – he reminded you, gesturing at your nightdress you were still wearing. 

Giggling childishly, you took a run for it. – “Catch me Jace!” – you laughed out, taunting him. Jacaerys groaned getting back in motion to chase you. Lucerys opened a door, coming into the corridor, startled. He jumped back at you running past him, he barely noticed what it was. A blur of a little person. – “Luke!” – Jacaerys breathed out, huffing, and puffing already. Lucerys quirked his eyebrow up at his brother’s approach. – “Y/n!... catch her…” – he made clear, pointing exhaustingly. Lucerys’s eyes widened figuring out it was you that almost ran him over. – “Y/n!” – Lucerys called out loud joining the chase. Now both your oldest brothers were chasing you, simply because you refused to get dressed.

“Y/n please!” – Luke called out. You ignored them, being in your stubborn stage of any five year old. You ran around Dragonstone to avoid your brothers. If they caught you, the fun would be over. Jacaerys and Lucerys gasped loud when they saw which way you were going. – “Y/n! No!” – Jacaerys yelled, hand stretched out in an attempt to stop you. – “Y/n! stop! No!” – Lucerys yelled between Jacaerys’s words in equal panic. You laughed loud, pushing the doors open. You ran inside, your laughter quickly dying as several serious heads turned your way. Swallowing nervously, you didn’t find it so funny anymore.

“Y/n?” – Rhaenyra said tilting her head a bit to the side. Mother sitting at a long table. Father at her right. Several other lords occupying any other seat. All looking curious and serious your way. Daemon chuckled silently, rubbing his finger over his lip. – “Are… are you still not dressed?” – Rhaenyra asked loudly. Her comment making every lord look away. Some looked up to the ceiling as others looked down at their own hands or the wall. You sheepishly smiled as Lucerys and Jacaerys came walking into the meeting room as well. – “Forgive us your grace.” – Jacaerys said taking a bow with his brother. Lucerys approached you, squeezing your shoulder firm.

“We will make sure she is presentable right away.” – Jacaerys added, hearing Daemon chuckle loudly now. His chuckling making Rhaenyra and the lords look his way. – “This is funny to you. Our daughter barging into a meeting room with barely nothing on.” – she asked him. – “Yes!” – Daemon responded loudly. Seeing Rhaenyra’s scowl made him sigh with a roll of his eyes. – “You are all too stiff to even form a laugh.” – he mumbled bothered. – “Sorry mommy…” – you said after Lucerys whispered to you to apologize. – “Sorry, your grace.” – you blurted out after receiving a hard nudge from your brother. 

You attempted to curtsy but almost stumbled forwards at a loss of balance. Rhaenyra smiling politely. - "That is alright my child." - she responded. Daemon sighed loud, shoving his chair back. – “Come say bye to daddy, Y/n.” – he said, not caring if anyone would not approve. It was after all his keep and his daughter. Smiling, you ran up to him. Arms wide open, he wrapped them around you, lifting you up with a grunt of pleasure. 

He gave you a big kiss before setting you back down. – “Now go get dressed Y/n.” – he said with a stern finger. You nodded. Daemon leaned closer whispering. – “Or mommy will scowl at me later.” – you held your hand for your mouth, chuckling. He spun you around, giving your bottom a pat to set you off. You ran back to your brother’s, taking Lucerys’s hand. Jacaerys bowed his head, hoping he wouldn’t receive a lecture about it later.

The three of you left the meeting. Lucerys exhaling relieved. – “Now come along Y/n!” – Jacaerys insisted tugging firm at your hand. You followed obedient. Your brothers remained in your room wanting to make sure you were properly dressed by your maid before you could escape her clutches again. Finally presentable, they left, leaving you alone. You remained in your room to play till you got bored and wanted to explore. Hopping whilst humming a hymn, you were followed by one of your personal guards. 

Staying close to you, but not too close to ruin your own game. Touching the walls, you hopped further down the hallway. – “Princess.” – Lords said bowing when passing you. Barely giving them a glance, you were so invested in your own imaginary game. More people started to pass through the corridor, carrying items for an upcoming banquet. You were so little; you could easily disappear. – “Princess?” – your guard called out in a slight panic. He pushed some ladies aside who carried fruit baskets. – “Princess!” – He repeated louder, shoving more people away that were blocking his view on you. 

You carelessly went your way, not knowing he wasn’t following anymore. Walking underneath iron plates that carried shot wildlife. You came at the end of the corridor, taking an unusual turn, you had never taken. Wondering where it would lead you. – “Princess!” – your guard panicked, fear clear in his tone. He got to the end of the corridor to a crossway, looking both ways. Sadly there was no sign of you. – “Princess!” – he shouted looking around to which way you might have gone.

There came no response as he started sweating. No other option then to tell your parents that he lost track of you. Swallowing nervously, he turned on his heel, heading for the throne room. You found yourself in a dark corridor where the air was damp. It was a bit chilly, but you kept going. Coming to some stone steps that lead you down. The closer you got, the warmer it suddenly became. Entering an open space down below ground, you stared in shock and awe. A low rumbling sound startled you. Despite it, you went further down. Chains rattled over the ground as something heavy moved. A heat coming off of it. 

You approached, making out vaguely a shape. A sharp nail slid your way, lighted up by the light coming from the torches. – “Puppy?” – you called out. The dragon Vermithor roared deep from below his stomach, lifting his head. You had a smile on your face, running up to the dragon. Vermithor watched you with a close eye, bringing his head closer to you. The exhale from his nose, blowing your hair back. You laughed as it tickled. – “Silly dragon puppy.” – you said waving your hand. 

Vermithor looked down as you ran up to his scaly body. The dragon sitting down, having barely moved. It tilted his head slightly as you laid down against it. Your body moving with his breathing motions. You hummed satisfied letting your small hand run over his scales. Gasping loud, you removed yourself from his body. Vermithor roared, shaking his head.

He turned his head sharply your way, feeling a tug on his body. He snarled angrily, bringing his head closer to his wing. He stopped snarling when his wing got lifted up a bit, revealing you. – “Boo.” – you said laughingly. You lowered the wing once more, hiding underneath it. Lifting it up once more, you revealed yourself to the dragon. Playing peek a boo with his wing. Vermithor’s tail swished over the ground as a playful sign. His wing went higher as you couldn’t reach it anymore. It almost made you cry as you were enjoying that. 

Then Vermithor dropped his wing, dropping it’s weight on you. You fell to the ground from the weight, laying flat down. Vermithor lifted his wing back up, surprised for a moment you weren’t there. Till it heard you laugh loud, laying down on your stomach. The dragon flapped his tail on the ground in delight. You got up, laying down by his warm belly. Snuggling against his scaly skin. Vermithor moving his head closer, giving you a little nudge with his nose.

“Your grace!” – The guard said, barging into the room. Rhaenyra slowly turning her head to him. Daemon revealing himself more, leaning closer to look behind his wife. – “Yes.” – she calmly said. – “It is the princess… I…I lost her.” – the guard openly confessed with a bow. – “What?” – Daemon called out, slamming his fist on the table. – “How can you loose a literal child! Have you perhaps gone blind? Should I poke an eye out or two for you to finally open your f*cking eyes!” – Daemon scolded, standing up with a knife pointed at the guard. 

Rhaenyra brought her hand down to calm him. Daemon settled back down with much complaining. – “Where did you last saw her.” – Rhaenyra asked. The guard told them where. Both pushed their chairs back, getting up in a haste. Rhaenyra and Daemon running over to where you were last seen. They searched every way, asking around if they had seen you. When all was lost, came a concerned thought to Daemon’s mind. 

“You don’t think…” – he started, looking concerned at Rhaenyra. She looked equally terrified. They both started running needing to look for themselves. Hoping they wouldn’t find your burned corpse. Running for their lives to the dragon’s pit. – “Y/n! Y/n!” – Rhaenyra shouted, running down the stone steps. Daemon right behind her.

You lifted your head up, hearing your name. – “Y/n!” – Rhaenyra screamed with panic. Vermithor lifted his head roaring in their direction, putting them to a stop. Rhaenyra and Daemon staring in shock at the large dragon. – “Y/n. Y/n come slowly my way.” – Daemon told you, keeping a close eye on the dragon. – “Y/n please… slowly… don’t look at the dragon… look at me.” – Rhaenyra said motioning for you to come. She took one step, stopping at Vermithor snapping his jaw her way. Not letting them come any closer 

“Mommy, Daddy look at my puppy dragon.” – you exclaimed, pointing at the dragon’s head. Vermithor lowered his head to you. You wrapping your hands around his nose. Rhaenyra stared in shock at you. Daemon suddenly laughing. – “She’s got a dragon!” – he cheered, arms raised. – “Our daughter tamed a dragon at this age!” – he couldn’t be more proud. Rhaenyra chuckled once, finding some fun in it eventually. How was it that the smallest of Targaryen tamed a large dragon at such an age. Daemon knelt as you ran over to him. He picked you up, twirling with joy. – “You got yourself a dragon Y/n.” – he told you, resting his forehead against you. Rhaenyra joining to give you a kiss.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

#imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #house of targaryen #house of dragons #house of dragons fanfic #house of dragons fanfiction #house of dragon fic #house targaryen #jacaerys targaryen #lucerys targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #reader!targaryen #dragons #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x y/n #vermithor #hotd imagine #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd fandom #hotd fanfic

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Monster from the deep

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Howard Phillips Lovecraft x GN! Reader

Description: Waters of Teyvat become dangerous. Something is destroying ships. Dottore is asked to kill the monster.

Warning: OOC. Mentions of insanity, torture, religious fanaticism, animal death. Dehumanisation (Dottore refers to Reader as 'it'). Lovecraft is soft protective yandere towards Reader. English is my second language.

A/N: , if someone was waiting for full fanfic about Self-Aware! BSD X SAGAU! Imposter crossover, here we are.

______

To: Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore

Lord Harbinger,

I swear on the greatness of All Creator, if situation didn't call for that, I won't write this letter, but, I am afraid, our nations are in a dire situation.

As you must know, another ship was destroyed. Another deal fell through. Liyue will not be able to send a shipment of minerals to Snezhnaya. We lost another ship, cargo and ship's crew.

At least, until we finally have found a survivor.

He was found on a lifeboat near Liyue's shores three weeks after the ship sink. He was dying of hunger and thirst.

And he has gone completely mad.

Sailor was starting in the distance, repeating again and again.

"Ephaiagl ah mglw'nafh. C' ah mglw'nafh."¹

At first, we thought, that he was delusional, that we could save him, if we get him in better shape.

Yet, he refused to eat or drink.

He only stared in the distance. Talking and talking.

He didn't let anyone inside his hospital room.

He became aggressive every time someone tried to peek inside.

He did come out, but, always tried to return to his room as soon as he can.

We forced him to eat and drink, to keep him alive. We gave him every medicine we could think of.

He didn't become better. And he didn't become worse.

And tragedy strikes.

All-loving Creator were visiting the hospital. Their Grace light patients' mood. They felt better, after seeing Their Holiness.

One of the patients, who was staying here with his dog, feel happy for the first time in last days, after seeing All Creator. He dog disappeared, and he was feeling terrible, but, after seeing Their Holiness, they forgot their sorrows.

And All-loving Creator met mad sailor.

For the first time in weeks, he got silent.

He was staring at Creator, unblinking and unmoving.

And he committed a sin.

He dared to attack Their Holiness.

Screaming words in the strange language.

"N'ghftdrn! ah'legeth n'ghftdrn!²"

We killed sinner.

And inside his hospital room, we found a lost dog. What remains of him.

We also found this in his room.

[Photo is attached to letter. The wall of the hospital room is covered in red letters. Words makes no sense, except ones, that are written under the red drawing of an octopus-like monster. "BRING DOTTORE TO HIM"]

Lord Harbinger, It seems, that it's the monster, that destroying ships. We have heard about your victory over Ursa the Drake. Perhaps, you could try to defeat the Sea Monster as well? Liyue will send millelith and our best sailors to assist you. It will take time, because Liyue captains refuse to go to sea, so the expedition will reach Snezhnaya by land.

Wishing for an eternal reign of All Creator.

Ningguang, The Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing

_______

Il Dottore, Second Harbinger, One of the Creator's Personal Physicians, was standing on the deck of the ship. They were in the middle of the sea, moving along the trade route from Snezhnaya to Liyue.

Everything was quiet.

No signs of a monster.

Sailors were doing their job. Fatui and millelith were on observation duty, trying to catch a sign of a monster.

Yet nothing was happening.

Dottore feel anger. The damn creature asked for him, yet, it didn't show up. Cowardly vermin.

Few months ago, after the low-live Imposter disappeared, the strange monster appeared in Teyvat waters. It attacked ships, making any sort of trades not just dangerous, but straight up impossible.

Nothing could stop that monster. And no witnesses remain.

Everytime they killed another sea monster they thought, that they finally succeed.

And, in a few days, another ship got sailed.

Mora was low, and Pantalone became angrier and angrier.

The trades became impossible, and people start loosing jobs, factories started to close down.

And, finally, they have a lead, to what they are looking for. And this thing decides to hide.

Dottore clenched his fists. Everything went to Abyss after Imposter escaped.

His thoughts were interrupted by a scream.

"Man overboard!"

______

A saved man called himself Lovecraft.

And he was strange.

A tall, gaunt man, was towering above everyone on the ship. His eyes looked bored and tried. Almost empty. He hardly talked to anyone, preferring to stay on his own.

The only time Dottore saw any kind of emotion from Lovecraft, was when Fatui soldiers, after a few drinks, were discussing The Imposter.

________

"Oh, I am so jealous of Lord Harbinger! He managed to pay a part in punishing the Imposter!" proclaimed Fatui Agent (Dottore didn't care about his name), waving a mug, that was filled to the brim with alcohol, in the air. Other Fatui and millelith solders cheered.

"Yea!"

"He showed them their place!"

"Dirty parasite, how dare they impersonate Their Holiness."

The night was full of alcohol and talks.

The agent, who started talking about the Imposter, turned towards Dottore.

"Lord Harbinger, please, tell us, how you avenge Their Holiness."

Dottore rolled his eyes. The rest of the Fatui, sailors and millelith joined Agent in asking for a story. Well, one time, he can entertain them.

Dottore put down his glass of wine, cleared his throat and start his tale.

___________________________

The Dungeon was dark and dirty.

Still, too good for a creature, that were contained here.

Dottore walked down the corridor, that leads to an isolated part of the dungeon.

In the small cell, full of torture devices, it were kept.

Exact double of Creator.

A dirty heretic.

Braces on its legs had forced it to remain in a standing position all night. Its eyes were unfocused, due to a lack of sleep and enduring intense pain.

Its lying lips and mouth were now covered in burns and blisters. Before Dottore came here, the high ranking church members came, to clean its soul by pouring boiling water in its mouth.

"Well, look at this squalor. Not so confident now, are we?" with mocking concern, asked Dottore. Sinner flinched. It strained to speak with its burned throat, as it managed to croak out a response.

"want home... to friends..."

Dottore mockingly pet its head. He grabbed the fist, full of its hair, and pull. Sinner let out a cry of pain.

"Aw! This creature has friends? Well, when we are finished with it, we will go after its friends."

Dottore let go of its hair, taking a step back. He took a metal instrument from one of the small tables in the cell.

"Let me give you something, Sinner. Nice salted water for your mouth. So you won't say even more of your heresy."

_____

The crowd roared. They were cheering for Dottore.

"Hooray for Lord Harbinger! Let Creator bless you!"

"I bet, it were crying like a dirty pig, when salted water got into its mouth. Oh, my bad. I shouldn't be rude towards pigs, by comparing it to them!"

"It got what is deserved."

Dottore scoff, pleased, with the reaction.

And he felt a gaze on him.

Howard, who was sitting in the corner, looked at him.

The look was full of hate and disgust.

Howard, suddenly, became blurry.

In the next moment, the ship was cut in half.

_______

Ground was moving up and down.

The ground felt like wood.

The night was cold.

Dottore woke up. With half-closed eyes, he tried to stand up. But the ground was still moving. And his clothes start getting wetter. He felt the scent of salt.

Dottore finally opened his eyes.

He was on the raft.

In the middle of the sea.

And no ship or other crew members were in sight.

Dottore felt anger. He wasn't sure, how he got here, but, he swears to Tsaritsa and All Loving Merciful Creator, that he will find the person, who put him here, and will destroy them.

Something swam under the raft.

And someone jumped from the water, landing next to Dottore, almost sinking the raft.

Dottore was ready to curse the idiot, who almost drowned him, when he saw it.

Lovecraft was completely wet, but, somehow, dark navy, slightly wavy hair didn't look wet at all. The dull, blank, dark gray eyes met with Dottore's red eyes.

"You hurt them." there were no emotions in this voice. The man reached towards Dottore's head. A large hand grabbed Dottore's face.

A black empty holes replaced Lovecraft eyes. Octopus tentacles squeezed around Dottore.

Dottore was afraid. His fear was strange. Like it was something, that came from his ancestors. Something, that he would feel, even he was a newborn right now.

Dottore managed to gather enough power to attack.

Yet, the attack didn't do anything.

It didn't even scratch Lovecraft.

Howard put his face near Dottore's.

"You have hurt them. And I am their friend. And I will share some nice salted water with you."

Dottore was thrown in the water.

Waves closed above his head.

____

Dottore was sinking.

And a huge, octopus-like monster were circling around him.

Huge, greenish. With countless tentacles.

Monster stared at Dottore.

It became blurry again.

It changed its looks again.

One tentacle squeezed Dottore's neck and forced him to look straight at the monster.

"Ymg' lloig ah mglw'nafh.³"

Dottore looked at the monster.

And screamed.

Seawater filled his mouth.

______

After leaving Dottore near Liyue's shores, Lovecraft start swimming to their base.

To a hidden cave, where a portal, that leads back to their new world, were located.

Lovecraft reached the cave in a matter of minutes.

He took a special trap from the water, where three kois for you were swimming.

Lovecraft stepped into the portal.

_____

You were standing near a big fish tank. You carefully observed Teyvat fish, that Lovecraft brought you every time he returned from Teyvat.

You flinch, remembering Teyvat. You didn't have physical scars, thanks to Yosano, but, you have plenty of mental scars.

You heard familiar heavy steps.

Lovecraft walked inside the room. He noticed you and walked closer. He holds the trap with fishes towards you.

"For you."

You mumble a little'thank you' and took the trap, immediately releasing fiches into the fish tank.

Then, Howard hold something else towards you.

A familiar mask.

You froze, looking at it.

"For you. I made him lose his mind. He won't hurt anyone. He will never hurt you. I won't let him."

With shaking hands, you took Dottore's mask. Tears run down your cheeks.

"Th-thank you... Howard..."

A big hand carefully cups your cheeks. Lovecraft wiped away your tears.

"Don't cry, Treasured Guiding Light. No one will hurt you. And the ones, who dared to hurt you, will pay."

____

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He doesn't drink. He's only howling this words, if it's even words."

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"Let's call for the All Creator. Their Holiness might help."

______

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"Someone, put a gag in his mouth! He is disturbing other patients!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"AAAAAH!!! Dear Creator! He bit my fingers off!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"He is getting away! Lord Dottore, stop!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh! Ymg' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁵"

"He is attacking Creator! Stop him!"

_____

Dottore was standing in the middle of the same cell, where you were kept in back then. He was forced to stay in standing position. His red eyes were bloodshot. His mouth was covered in burns and blisters. He was staring at the wall.

His screams were filling the night. He doesn't care about burned throat. The only important thing in his life were the words he was repeating.

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

______

In a real world, you were sitting next to Lovecraft.

Both of you were eating chocolate ice cream.

You leaned against Lovecraft's side.

Big hand softly pet your head.

"Y' ahnythor ymg' nnn, gokar'luh. Y' ymg' ephainnn, gokar'luh.⁶"

You smile slightly.

One day, you will heal completely.

And your friends will be with you for every moment of your recovery. And for every moment after you heal.

________

¹"Future is dead. We are dead" R'Lyehn (Cthulhu language) I was using this translator.

²"Monster! Lying monster!"

³"Your mind is dead."

⁴"I must die"

⁵"I must die! You must die!"

⁶"I must protect you, treasure. I will protect you, treasure."

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #imposter au #Self-Aware Howard Phillips Lovecraft #Lovecraft x reader #bsd lovecraft #lovecraft bsd #dottore #il dottore

[apoemaday]

When You Are Old

by W.B. Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

#poetry #w.b. yeats #when you are old #william butler yeats #yeats

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

A little wicked (Dark! Aemond x reader/rhaenyras daughter) really dark aemond. 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, au MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

🔷Author's note: Dark. I don't throw that label around lightly. you know the drill, dead dove? do not eat.

🔷Wordcount :4939

🔷Warnings: Smut, p in v, mention of loss of virginty, dubcon loss, death, misgony, misogny- aemond hates rhaerhae. Dark aemond, gore, blood.

You await your husband’s arrival, back from the battlefield. Today is the Battle of Rook’s rest. A battle that would go down in the History books of Westeros, Essos, all realms that ever were or will be. Unaware to you, of course. You are miles away from the battlefield, preparing for the return of your beloved husband, King Aegon II Targaryen.

You have prayed, for the first time in years, actually. Your mother didn’t believe much in prayer, more in action. You think her relationship with Alicent Hightower forever caused a deep religious wound. Religion is something that reminds your mother too much of her lost friend. So therefore, it wasn’t important in your upbringing. 

Soon, you’ll be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and finally take your rightful place beside Aegon. You have the foolish hope that you, as Rhaenyra's daughter, maybe can mend the wound. Maybe your mother can be swayed to bend the knee, to give up her claim to the throne. If only it was that simple.

You await news. Any news. At first you are positive that Aegon has made it back unaltered. He has to. He is the king, the fierce warrior you know and while he is nowhere as good as Aemond, he has more experience than those Rook Rest soldiers. It has to be enough. He has to be enough.

However, as minutes turn into hours, and the sun and the moon dance and circle one another in the sky, you become immensely worried about the fate of your loved one. You are thankful for when the doors of the throne room are pushed open and Prince Aemond enters, at long last.

Recently, the young Prince switched from dark black leather to green dark leather, to fully show his support for his family. You remind yourself you are a hostage to these people, stolen. The corners of the prince’s lips lift mere inches, as if smiling. Yet he quickly brushes that away, as if he cannot be seen that way.

Cole follows, his face sorrowful and full of pain. The sort of pain you see on a father’s face when he loses a son. You feel your smile die as the world seems to slow down, to fade, and to darken instantly. Cole steps forward. 

Aemond walks to you. Your feet rush, but your legs are frozen, causing you to stumble and to almost fall flat on your face. Aemond pretends to walk to you, but instead walks past you, to the big Iron throne that looms over you as a dark curse. 

You watch in silence as he sits down, confirming your worst fears. You hear yourself gulp, as tears stream down your face. Your Aegon is no longer alive. King Aemond now sits the throne, and he sits it as if it took him too long to begin with. He smiles down at you, mocking and almost patronizing. Cole speaks, as first. ‘’All hail his grace, King Aemond of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andels, and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm!’’ The words hit you like blows.

Aemond lifts his chin as all soldiers around you and all knights, servants, everyone with working legs falls down to their knees, respecting and vowing loyalty to their new monarch. Everyone but you, that is. Aemond waits quite a while before he tells everyone to raise again. Likely enjoying everyone on their knees for him, and him alone. As a cat toying with a mouse. 

After that the servants are rounded up, to be informed of the King’s fate. ‘’My dear people. It is with great sadness and immense pride, that I announce the death of my brother, King Aegon II. He shall be known to history as King Aegon the Brave, for he slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys. Had it not been for her treasonous acts on battlefield, our king would be alive today.’’ He waits a moment as gasps and relieved words cross the hall. ‘’It is with great pride that I shall now serve you as King, until my younger nephew, Prince Maelor comes of age. You may all now either bend the knee, or remain standing.’’ He gestures to the guards, and on his sign, they all draw their swords.  A clear choice.

You watch as the one after the other servant drops to their knees, swearing loyalty to the newly crowned King. After that is done they are all dismissed. ‘’Y/n. Please stay here.’’ The use of just your name makes your hair stand up. It is intimate, almost familiar.

You freeze.

Aemond finally rises from the throne, a smile on his lips. You wait and remain where you are. He does not beckon you closer, so you remain there. He walks closer to you until he is in front of you. He looks at your gown, taking in the details of the bodice. ‘’My condolences on the loss of your husband.’’ He whispers, gently. 

You blink back tears. ‘’Can I go home now? We must write to my mother that the war is over. She can come collect her throne.’’ You look over to the ugly iron thing. Aemond chuckles, adoring your naivety and your good righteous heart.

He even reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing it and wiping away a few tears with his thumb. He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it, tasting your tears. You watch, speechless. He grins. ‘’My gentle hearted sweet girl.’’ It sounds like a compliment and also an insult. ‘’I have no intention to stop the war. Your mother will sit on that throne when your brother Lucerys finds his head again. You will leave her in a coffin or when I am dead.’’ You scoff, insulted and step away, ready to leave.

He grabs you firmly by your arms, dragging you closer. You are pinned against his front, where you can still see blood on his shirt. His smirk only grows as you lower your head, avoiding his eye. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him as you silently cry. ‘’I haven’t lost, you see. I have the crown, the throne, and you.’’ He does the unspeakable and leans in for a kiss, leaving a soft peck on your lips. He moans softly against your lips. ‘’My darling, my sweet precious thing.’’ He murmurs. 

You give him a weak push against his chest, barely moving him. But it gets the message across. Aegon is not even cold yet. “I’m your brother’s widow!’’ You yell in righteous fury.

He laughs at that, capturing you easily with your hands again, and you hate yourself that you like how warm and fast his hands act. ‘’That means nothing in our family. You are my captive, Lady Strong. Remember? From the moment I first captured you at Storm’s end, until your very last. You are meant to be mine, so you will be.’’ He promises you. He is calm and collected about it as if is stating a fact.

He reminds you of the day when this all started. You don’t want to think back of that day. You tell yourself it is because of Luc, who Aemond fed to his dragon. But it is because of Aegon. You miss Luc, of course, but that wound had time to heal. Aegon’s loss is so sudden and just as painful, but fresh. ‘’I am not yours, you monster!’’ You raise your hand, striking Aemond on his scarred cheek.

He finally acts, grabbing your hands tighter and dragging you close until your noses touch. He is trembling with fury and his one eye is full of hatred, lust, obsession and cold blooded plans. ‘’Striking your king, is a act of treason.’’ He chuckles. ‘’I am allowed to punish you. I could take your hand for this, little lady strong.’’ You huff.

You roll your eyes even. Aemond hates the silent treatment more than any insult you could have hurled at him. Instead of making it clear what he intends, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, marching you back to the empty throne.  You kick and slap his back, trying to break free of his iron grip. He places you in the hands of a nearby guard, who all have been silent on this treatment of their rightful princess. Aemond sits on the iron throne and what he does next shocks you.

He grabs you by your hips, bending you over both his knees, as if you don’t weigh anything. He pets your hair lovingly and even gives your shaking body a kiss. ‘’I do this because I love you. You are in luck. You will always be able to defy me.’’ He whispers. ‘’All men who do so will meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries, but you, my special girl, you will be able to defy, rebel and upset me.’’ He whispers. ‘’Because I enjoy punishing you. And I bet you enjoy being punished.’’ You feel his hands on your butt, as he starts finding the beginning of your gown. You hear the sound of fabric ripping, and panic, bolting on his lap. He simply holds you down tighter, smirking as you begin to whimper. He calmly hums and with one brutal movement, rips your skirts. You remain on his lap, vulnerable and in your small clothes. Aemond sits up straighter, as if he wants to fully take in this view. Embarrassed, you lower your head in his lap, allowing him to caress your hair once more. ‘’Such a beautiful girl. You were wasted on my brother.’’ He speaks. ‘’You belong with me. You always have.’’ He then turns to his guards. ‘’Leave me and the Princess. She will pledge her loyalty to me in a private event.’’ You whimper as you hear iron footsteps leave the room. 

When he is alone with you, he pulls your small clothes down fully, yanking them until your ankles, exposing you for all you are. It seems to awaken a certain hunger or desire in him, and he rips your corset and sleeves next. He fully admires your naked body, panting as he looks at you. He seems to calm down and finally he does what he promised. He hits you on your ass, spanking it harshly. You hiss in pain, in disbelief that he is subjecting you to this. ‘’Aemond, stop this.’’ You beg.

‘’You have no right.’’

He scoffs. ‘’I have every right. I am the King now. You were naughty, today. I don’t like naughty girls. Well, not as much as I like a good girl.’’ He says, talking to you as if you are a stupid little girl. Fresh tears fall. ‘’I like naughty good girls, who know what they want. But you aren’t there yet. You aren’t broken enough yet.’’ He says, joyfully as he spanks you. You give soft whimpers.

The spankings only become harsh when you remain silent, so you fake moans and whimpers to please Aemond’s dark desires. He sometimes groans too, as he sees how much damage your body is taking thanks to him, and how you take it.

“Aegon told me something before he died. He told me he never consummated the marriage. Is that true?” You wonder why Aegon told him that. 

But it is the truth. You nod. “He knew when we first were forced to lay together I didn't want it.” 

Aemond only chuckles to that comment, dealing another hurtful smack, almost as if to punish you for still loving his brother. “He raped plenty of women. I suppose you weren't special enough to make the effort.”

“Aegon loved me.” You argue, and you regret it the moment you’ve said it. Because Aemond slaps so hard that your flesh burns.

He groans now not of arousal but of pure hatred. “He didn't.”

“There's one man for you in this entire world.” You huff at his words. 

You are grabbed by the throat, lifted from his lap and forced to stand as he chokes you. You are choked, tears stinging your eyes as he looks at you with the crown slightly slipping from his hairs and his one eye bigger than usual, focused on you, the object of his obsession. You fight for control but lose the fight. “It is me.” He reveals.

“No,’ You croak out weakly. “I can't. You killed my brother-”

He sighs, almost enjoying the view. His cold fingers finger one of your nipples, enjoying the reaction your body gives by hardening for him. He chuckles.  “Such a beauty. Now. Defy me again.” You shake your head. He sighs, putting you over his knee again. You whimper against the cruel treatment, feeling the spot he struck. Aemond smirks, challenging you to speak out again. “I ought to keep you around like this. Just as the gods intended you to be. Pure, naked, unspoiled…” He feels the skin he struck. And you feel yourself clench your cunt, ignoring the waterfall he caused down there with all cost. It is true, Aemond is a handsome man. But this is wrong, isn’t it?

“May I please dress?” You ask, wiggling on his lap, enjoying when his thigh briefly rubs your cunt. That hits the spot.

The King laughs. “Such an obedient girl for asking me first.”

“The answer is no, however. You struck me, remember? That is treason.” You are embarrassed to speak. He laughs at that, rubbing your legs, drawing circles and kissing your skin. You ignore the butterflies. You can’t.

‘’Stand.’’ He barks suddenly. You obey, standing on your shaking legs, exposing yourself now fully to him. He leans back in the throne, grinning brightly as he takes in your body, toe to head. ‘’You can defy me as many times as you like. I will gladly put you on my lap and spank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’But if you say something regarding the whore that mothered you, I’m afraid we must do a different type of punishment. Am I clear?’’ You nod, hating how frightened you are.

He softens his face. He beckons you closer. You come closer until you stand in front of throne, your cunt barely touching the iron. ‘’I wish to feel your wares. I must see myself, If you and Aegon kept your word.’’ Without a warning, his fingers sink inside your wetness, inspecting you as you stand on your legs, almost falling over.

‘’Please, make me sit.’’ You beg.

He grins, forcing his finger to go deeper, penetrating you at the right speed. “No, you'll stand, tall and proud. I bet this is just what a dirty bastard like yourself likes. ‘’ It takes a while but sadly, he discovers what is happening. ‘’Oh, just as I suspected. A wet, warm and wonderful little place for my seed to crawl inside of.” You wail at those words, aroused as he fucks slowly, taunting you with his fingers.

“Stop talking as if we are going to -”  Your talking is interrupted by a smack on your cunt by his free haunt, causing you to cry out in pain and anticipation.

He glares at you, shaking you as if you aren’t awake yet.

“As if? You think I'd kept you as a pretty cup bearer or something? I plan to make good use of you. Every hole is stuffed, until you can't even crawl forward.” He promises. 

“What if I will have a child?” you whisper. ‘’That would complicate your status.’’ 

He sees that differently, mad with lust and obsession.

“That is part of the fantasy. Breeding you makes me happy. Seeing your belly swell makes me happy. You know why?” He asks, softly patting your belly. You shake your head.

“No.”

He leans in, gesturing vaguely down to his legs.

“It proves my seed is strong, powerful and well. It proves I have the power to make you, a stunning powerful princess to a good for nothing whore, carrying a bastard inside of her womb.” You sniffle, hurt and insulted.  “Judging your wet and warm cunt, you have been thinking about me too. Why don't you admit that you want this?”

“Because I loved him. I loved Aegon. That means something to me.” 

Aemond growls. “Shame he didn't love you. You know it deep down. He didn't mention you at all when he died-” You push him off you, taking off to the doors, not caring he ripped your gown or your poking breasts begging for touch.

“Where do you think you'll be going?”  He demands, his voice booming.

You raise your head as much as a princess and dignity as you can. “To my quarters until you decide to trade me for peace.”

“Peace?” He laughs. Then that laugh dies. “Peace!’ It scares you how quickly it became an almost command. “You have exactly 3 seconds to get over here and to kneel at my feet and to beg me for forgiveness-” You don’t let him finish and take off running. But he is faster. 

He simply drags you back by your hair, giving your behind hurtful smacks as he drags you to the throne. ‘’Ungrateful bastard. I can make you my queen.’’ He growls. ‘’Why won’t you accept that you want this? Look how wet you are for me.’’ He thinks as you remain at his feet, sitting there as a dog. ‘’I know something. We must train you, to ensure you are a proper pet.’’ He grins. One of the servants is allowed in, to bring Aemond a piece of rope.

You are worried he is going to tie your hands. But his plans are far worse. He ties the end around your neck, and holds it, as a leash. “Such a stubborn girl.” He chuckles. ‘’Now if you try to run, you’ll feel it.’’

“Please untie my neck.” You whisper, softly.

“Why? You can't behave, clearly. I must make the rules clear somehow.”

He has gone insane.

“Untie my neck, I'm worried I'll choke.” 

“You know, when the right person is doing it, choking, taking control of another person's breath, nay, life, can feel…amazing.”

In response you spit at him.

“Spitting at me, you are a vile dirty minded thing, are you not? I bet you just ache for someone to pin you down against the floor and to have his wicked way with you. Don't you, bastard?” He growls, handling you.

“I want Aegon…” You whisper, half a beg and half a prayer.

He almost slams your head against the throne in pure rage. You can tell he is close to losing it. “Why? Why do you want that disgusting raper. You have me. You have all you will ever need.” He says. Then he sniffs your breasts, his long nose and hair disappearing between your breasts.  “Fuck, you smell so good. So inviting. I can smell that needy cunny of yours.”

He stands up, keeping the leash in his dominate hand. ‘’I bet if I took my cock out you’d be fucking it before I could even ask you to.’’ He grins. ‘’You are your mother’s daughter after all.’’ To prove his point he lowers his trousers, revealing his manhood to you.

You are caught off guard. You never saw one before and it looks so strange yet familiar. “Look down.” He pushes your head down so you can properly. 

It is red and swollen and evil in all ways. You try to glance at Aemond but your eyes are almost glued to his manhood. He snickers amused at your virginal response. “You'd like to feel this down your legs, little bastard?” He asks, and you are shocked when his fingers find your entrance once more, and now your soaked little cunt can’t even handle this. You moan, crying of shame and desire.

Aemond grins, taking it as a sign of encouragement. 

“Get on your knees.” you obey, eying his cock. You wonder if it’ll hurt. But part of you wants to just feel good and happy for a moment.  “On all fours.” He adds, groaning in frustration.

“What is expected of me?” You whisper soft as you kneel for him in the throne room. Aemond finally leaves his throne, so he may join you.

Silence. “I can't…I'm a princess. My virtue is everything to me-”

He laughs. “I can't wait to fuck you, so you for once and for all will shut up about your prestige and your privileges. You will learn, my sweet that I decide what your worth is now. Now, I am going to ask.”

You shake as his fingers brutally Bury themselves in your untouched tight cunt. “Do you want me to be the bad man today, little Maella? Do you wish to get your cunny raided by me, here, in the throne room, on your knees, as a little dirty harlot?’ You fall to your knees, crying out as the penetrating reaches a hight, as does your pleasure. You touched yourself but never like this. Not like he does. And his dirty naughty talk..

“Do you want to feel my cock take root and to feel me penetrate away at your innocent soft rings as they wrap and tighten around my cock as I take you on the stones, your knees bloody and your vision blurry as I bring you close?’

“Do you want that?”

You begin to doubt and he knows it. So he softens his voice, for show. “It can feel so good, Maella. You know I've won. You know it. You are already naked. You are already kneeling. All I need to do is put my cock……” He parts your legs. He rubs your needy cunt causing friction as you frustrated cry out. “here…’’

You nod pleasure winning. ‘Yes.’’ You say, consenting at last. He does not need long. He drags his finger nails in your hips, bringing you closer to his front. He sits on both his knees, as he slams inside of you, fucking you with a brutal war cry. You gasp as the cock pierces through your maidenhood, ruining you for any other man. Aemond groans in delight at your gasps, fucking you harder for every bit of sound you make.

“Oh, you're deep…” you mutter, a bit foolish.

He chuckles. “You'll handle me just fine. Any woman is a bit as a frightened stag, wishing to bolt off when a man climbs her. It is his task to smooth her back into submission so the ride may be…pleasant.” You wonder if he enjoys it the way you do. But when you hear his grunts and moans you know he does.

“Just as much of a slut as your mother.” He whispers and quickly gives you a kiss to avoid your anger. “Taking it all so well. You're a natural love.”

The fucking reaches a height your innocent body cannot handle, as Aemond comes closer to, and the fucking becomes violent, with him choking you as well now. “Meant and made to be on your knees, cock deep inside of your cunt and getting fucked until you can't crawl out of your bed tomorrow.” You gasp, your cries and soft moans filling the throne room, high on pleasure. “Agree.” He hisses, suddenly. For someone who claims not the care about others, he sure seeks a lot of approval.

You know you must obey. You know it deep down. So you swallow your pride. “Y-yes Aemond.” You say, obediently.

He spits at that idea. “You will call me King Aemond or your Grace.’’ He smacks your ass, sinking a finger deep there too. You buck your hips to him, eager for more.

You need to feel good, more than anything, you need to feel alive. ‘’Aemond, your grace, please..”

That pleases him greatly. “So fast, little girl? This is just the tip of the mountain, dear. There is so much more for you left.” He promises, planting dark desires in your head.

“There is?”

He nods. “Hmm,” He smacks your butt in a playful manner.  “This is fun, but this is not the way a baby is made. I must stuff you properly for that. And there's your face…” You turn to face him, cock slightly sliding out of you in the process.

“What of it?” You ask, worried there is something stuck between your teeth.

You aren’t prepared for the answer. “It looks so clean. A nice, white and shimmering substance would look amazing on it. Something like my cum?”

“O, I don't know…” you stutter, foolishly.

You do know. But you won’t tell him that. “That is the beauty of your new life. You no longer need to know. I do. I'd love to see your cunt, breasts, belly, cheeks, chin, butt and hole covered in my cum.” He confesses. It is taking so long.

So you buck your hips to his front, hoping he mounts you soon once more. Aemond merely watches, grinning. “Taking me now, aren't we?”

“I do what you want. Just…give me…” You are at the breaking point. You are close. 

Aemond slams inside of you, fucking you up and down the tiles as you scream it out in pleasure and he hisses, likely near too. “This?”

You roar in approval as pleasure explodes and you cry out in a soft voice. Aemond can be heard chuckling. “That's it, beauty. You keep being good, and I'll give you that and more.”

“Please, my King…” you whimper. “I can't…I can't handle it anymore. I need to ..I need it now.”

The King laughs, enjoying your suffering and your pleasure.

“Such a demanding little brat, demanding to come before your king.” The Spanking you get now is not punishment. It brings you pleasure and therefor shame. You nearly whimpered at it, but at the same time you enjoyed the smack on your naked ass.  

And he bows your head down, and gives you the one after the other hard rough trust that only raises your pleasure. As the fucking increases, your needs reach a height unfamiliar to you and you stop, waiting for it to fade as you usual do when you touch yourself. Aemond sees this as the moment to strike, fully claiming you with a rough war cry and a trust. You fall down from your pleasure and come, all over his red swollen cock as he rides his own orgasm out on your spent body. The King is not happy yet, and fucks your body two more times after you are done with it. 

When he is done, he finally removes the rope. You sit up, watching the tiles you fucked upon, sweaty and stained with your blood. Aemond cheekily grins, dressing himself again quickly. You look around for anything to cover yourself with. He throws his leather bloodied coat your way. ‘’Here. Cover. I don’t wish you to catch a cold.’’ He says. You think back of Aegon. And guilt washes over you.

The door is opened and a soldier rushes inside the room. You attempt to cover yourself but it is too late. ‘’My king.’’ He begins but Aemond does not allow him to finish. 

‘’You saw my lady naked.’’ He says, instead of listening to his trusted soldier. The soldier blinks.

‘’I,I didn’t!”’ He quickly blurts out. Aemond does not even bother to explain his motivates, you can only watch as he takes his sword and chops of the head of the soldier. Blood and flesh come free as treat and paint painting the Throne room. You are horrified that Aemond murdered a man for looking at you.

You scream in horror. Aemond walks to you next, sword still dripping with blood. He levels the sword at his lips and takes a lick, before kissing your forehead. ‘’He had to die. Only one eye may look at your body. Mine.’’ He says, kissing you again as if it calms you down. It only makes you panic.

He sighs, taking you back to the throne. He makes you sit but this time there’s no spanking. Only sweet kisses and heartbroken mutters. ‘’What can I ever do to compare to Aegon? I want your love, my love. I want you to weep over my dead corpse.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want you when we marry, to become so madly in love with me, that when they find my corpse on the battlefield, you become mad and consumed with grief and you carve off one of my fingers to keep it close to you and you never think of a marrying another. I want you to die from a broken heart.’’ He whispers. ‘’I offer you the world, my love. It is ours. From Westeros to Essos and from the Dothraki grass sea to the useless kingdom of Dorne. It will fall at our feet, crumbled into dust. Thousands will die at our command, and their bones will become your crown and throne. Their blood will be your gown and their flesh will feed our love. Whoever offends you, shall die first. Let me be your King, and you will never need anyone else again.’’ You know you don’t have a choice. Once you cared about innocents. But you don’t have the luxury to care about them anymore. You must survive.

You play along for now.

Be Aemond’s Queen.

His second in command, the mother of his children, his lover and his bedmate.

To him you will be bow…

At least for now.

One of the days soon coming…

You’re going to take that boy’s crown.

//Not even therapy can fix this im afraid.

#tags #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #Aemondsmut #Smut #dubcon #violence #dark!aemond! #overstim #blood #thighriding #smut #murder #gore #classicalgotviolence

[cloudcountry]

the fallen angel, freed.

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!

Summary: if loving them is a sin, he'd damn himself a billion times over.

Author's Comments: this is me writing about the parallels between simeon and lilith. you'll see.

~~~~~

When Lucifer fell from the Celestial Realm, he went down with a bang. His glorious white wings were a sight to behold as they carried him through the battlefield, leading his brothers into battle as they fought for the life of their sister. The very life that the angels wanted to extinguish. Creatures known for their kindness and virtue and mercy, trying so hard to take the life of one of their own. Simeon doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so ghastly.

While Simeon did not take a side, he still treasures Lucifer greatly, and admires Michael much the same way. It doesn’t matter to him that Lucifer is a demon now, or that he has sworn loyalty to Diavolo. He would have done the same if he had a sister that went through what Lilith did. Whether what happened to her was fair or not, he cannot say, because he is part of a world that values purity above all else (at what cost?) and hasn’t changed that in centuries.

In a morbid way, Simeon cannot blame Diavolo for saying Lucifer looked stunning. Lucifer was a fearsome foe, but no matter how beautiful he was, Simeon never wanted to view him as an enemy. He’s one of the few angels that doesn’t view the demons as enemies—He knows Luke has questions about the decision Michael has made, and he knows that the young angel will eventually leave the nest and form opinions beyond what the Celestial realm has taught him. That’s the reason Simeon offered to participate in the exchange program with him. He won’t be around forever, though he thought he’d have a few more years.

Here he stands, in front of Michael. His posture is straight, but his arms are relaxed. There is no use denying the inevitable, and the expression on the other angel’s face is a clear indication that he cannot escape this fate.

“Simeon.” Michael says, voice regretfully and full of sorrow. Simeon is glad Luke doesn’t have to see this.

“Michael.” Simeon gives him an easy smile, like they’re talking over afternoon tea and not his fall from grace, “What is your verdict? I heard you’ve been discussing this with the other seraphim.”

“You know what’s going to happen.” he frowns, brow furrowing. Simeon continues to smile, “The fact is, you fell in love with a human. That human suffered a grave injury at the hands of a demon, and you gave them fruit from the Celestial Realm. You altered their lifespan. That’s strictly forbidden. You know this.”

Simeon says nothing. There’s nothing to say. He did, he fell in love with them, one of the human exchange students that attended RAD for some time. He cares about them in ways that tear him apart inside, He’s aware he’s repeating history. Simeon is painfully aware of everything he has done that led him up to this point, and yet he doesn’t regret a single thing.

If loving them is a sin, he'd damn himself a billion times over.

Is this what Lucifer felt in his final moments as an angel?

“You’re the last angel I expected to fall.” Michael says, his words slow and face full of regret, “I want to understand—why have both you and Lilith taken fruit from our Realm? That’s not virtuous, nor is it acceptable. We are not supposed to interfere, for what are we without our virtues?”

Nothing, Simeon thinks, Angels are nothing if they are not completely free of sin.

Their virtues make them who they are.

They may as well stab the spear that Raphael wielded in the Great Celestial War through his heart. Simeon thinks that would hurt less.

How many angels have to fall for Heaven to change?

Michael notices his silence and says nothing in return. (It's odd to see Michael being so stern towards him, but he's talked to Simeon like this before. It's his disciplining voice, and that almost makes him chuckle. Almost.) They both know what has to happen for the Celestial Realm to continue down the path it’s set forth for its angels. They both know where Simeon is going now. They both know his new place is in the Devildom, where demons are.

But all demons are not the same. Simeon knows this all too well, but it’s not as though the other higher-rank angels (aside from Michael and Raphael, who admire Lucifer greatly) would know anything about that. He always wishes he could have taken all of them down to the Devildom with him, to see how hard-working Lucifer still is and how strong Mammon has become and how dedicated Leviathan is and how they have a new brother, Satan, and he’s one of the kindest souls Simeon has ever seen and how Asmodeus has amassed more fans than ever and how Beelzebub has grown into the protector his brother need to most and how Belphegor...Belphegor...

And how they ruined Belphegor. How the joy in that demon’s eyes had faded before the exchange student came, and how the fascination he had with humans that had been shunned by the angels had been fully embraced by the human and Diavolo.

Diavolo. The demon that rules his subjects fairly and always listens to even the lowest demons. The demon whose admiration of Lucifer rivals even Michael. The demon who welcomed him and Luke with open arms and helped them adjust to their new home for the next year. His butler, Barbatos, who nobody really noticed but had convinced Luke that not all demons were terrible within a few baking lessons. Barbatos, the demon that had gone to supermarkets and little excursions with him on many occasions and had proved to have better manners than a lot of the angels did.

Bitter. Simeon was feeling bitter. How foreign of a feeling this was!

Perhaps he was already falling.

Michael is staring, and it's only then that Simeon realizes he said nothing in response to his speech about virtues. Is there anything virtuous about violence against an innocent family of brothers?

“We won’t kill you.” he whispers, eyes full of a deep regret that Simeon knows is about the brothers and Lilith, “I will never...obliterate an angel again. I regretted it...the last time. But I still have to punish you somehow. I still have to act with authority. I’m sorry. You will fall, Simeon. I only hope Diavolo has mercy on you.”

Now that his fall is inevitable, he feels the doubts that have built up over the years slipping free from his mind, and he clutches them to his chest like precious jewels. Heaven has abandoned him, and he will live without the eyes of grace upon him for all eternity.

And so he stands when Michael stands. He follows him, and the second he steps out into the radiance of his home, he hears the sound of Luke calling out to him. He cannot stop his head from whipping towards the noise, only to see the small boy standing beside none other than Raphael. The angel he’s so close with betrays nothing in his expression, but Luke—sweet, naive Luke—is crying harder than Simeon has ever seen him cry. The young boy is screaming at him not to leave, to stay up in the Celestial Realm with him (even though Simeon is helpless) because Simeon is his family and he doesn’t know what he will do without him.

Simeon breaks, his brow furrowing in misery as a stab of regret pierces his heart, and he rushes over to Luke with his wings flared out behind him. Raphael holds his spear as though he'll never let it go again as he points it warningly at Simeon, but Simeon doesn't even care as he scoops Luke up in his arms and holds the crying boy.

The young shouldn’t have to see such a display. Luke has been through too much already.

And so Simeon holds him. He shushes Luke softly as the boy grabs at his back, fat tears hitting his shoulder like stones.

“You’ll be okay, Luke. You can come visit me.” Simeon soothes, trying to reassure the angel before he, too, starts a rebellion against the higher powers, “I won’t be gone forever. Just...away. Shh, shhhh...it’s okay. You’re strong now, you don’t need me anymore.”

“But I do!” Luke cries, squeezing him so tightly that Simeon almost believes Luke can protect him from this fate, “I have no one else to turn to if you aren’t here-”

“Brother.” Raphael says, voice as deadpan as always, “Michael is waiting.”

Simeon sucks in a shuddering breath and sends one last smile Luke’s way. It’s like a token, a trinket for those nights when Luke has nightmares and can’t run to Simeon’s room anymore. It’s the comforting warmth that will replace the hot chocolate they used to make together when they had trouble sleeping, and a final smile in the series of smiles they have shared before.

Luke does not smile back, and he is still crying.

The next few moments are a blur of light and clouds. He sees his clothes turning completely black, his wings enduring searing pain. He tastes blood and bile and hears the screams of the fallen angels before him as he pullets to the earth. They’re so loud, too loud, and Simeon wishes they would stop and leave him in peace, but the clouds are closing and sealing shut and the light has disappeared entirely.

In the darkness, he sees them, and that’s all the light he needs.

Simeon closes his eyes, and he bears it.

He falls and falls and falls before dirt catches him, the slam of his body on the hard ground sending a shockwave through his bones. He doesn’t get up, he doesn’t even twitch. He does, however, open his eyes and stare into a familiar blackened sky.

“My, my. It seems you’ve found yourself in a predicament.” a familiar voice hums, a soft chuckle soon following.

Simeon opens his mouth to speak, but his throat feels dry and cracked. It feels like he hasn’t drank anything in months.

Barbatos reaches out to him, helping the fallen angel on his side. Simeon’s body screams at him to stay down, for him to stop moving, but he can't listen to it. He needs to get up.

“Do not push yourself too hard. The Young Master has already been informed of this matter and is taking the necessary steps to ensure that you're well taken care of.” Barbatos reassures him, the gentle smile on his face telling Simeon he knew all of this would happen, “Though, unfortunately I must admit that you will be another fallen angel that Michael regrets. However, beings in power do what they must, and they do what is right.”

“Barbatos...” Simeon winces, clutching his side as slick blood gathers on his gloves.

“Don’t speak. Conserve your energy.” he smiles, “I have called MC over, and they shall be arriving shortly. You are their hero, after all.”

Right. The reason he did what he did.

Blood on the floor of RAD. A demon holding them by the throat. Filthy, sharp nails digging into their skin. The images blur together because he doesn’t want to remember, it was so horrible and gory and he doesn’t know how they survived that.

It was probably only thanks to him.

“Do you think...it was worth it?” Simeon asks, a bitter laugh escaping his throat.

“You are to be the judge of that. I cannot say either way.” Barbatos replies, the response so serious it almost makes him laugh more.

If it wasn’t for the pain he feels all over, he might have.

He sits with Barbatos in silence, feeling and feeling as his abrasions and changes take hold of him. He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this, he’s sure he’s going to die here and now and nobody can save him, and he’ll never see them or Luke again, and-

“Simeon?” a gentle voice calls, a familiar figure running towards him as Barbatos steps out of the way.

A wretched gasp escapes his throat as the exchange student comes into view, their brow furrowed with worry and lips parted as they pant. They must have run here as soon as Barbatos told them what was going on, and the warmth he feels at the sight of the human he saved pushes out most of the pain. It’s like his arms have a mind of their own because they reach for the human despite the creaking of his bones and the screaming of his muscles.

They reach him before he does.

They crush him against their chest in an embrace that feels like the warmth of the sun on his back, and all the breath in Simeon’s lungs vanishes in an instant. his mouth hangs open as they sob into his hair, stroking his head like he’s something precious, like they’re so glad he’s okay. He uses the last of his strength to wrap his arms around them, straining the muscle as they cry that they were so worried and how he shouldn’t have done something like that if it meant falling from grace and that they aren’t that important and he shouldn’t have risked it and oh, he’s such an idiot but they love him anyways, they loved him when he was an angel and they'll love him now, regardless of what he’s done or what his fate is or what form he’s taken because he’s Simeon and Simeon is the only one they want.

He hears all of this and begs his mind to come up with something to say, something poetic and romantic that he can normally put into writing so easily, just to thank them for the kindness they've always displayed towards him, but he comes up empty.

So he quiets their sobs with a kiss. He kisses them with tears rolling down his face, he kisses them with his tattered wings and abandoned soul, he kisses them like that soul belongs to them because it does, even though it's been trampled and dirtied and destroyed.

They kiss him back.

And under the vacant, darkened sky with his torn wings and blackened soul, he falls all over again.

#auburn's fics <3 #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me angst #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #simeon x mc #om simeon x reader #om x reader #i love love love the concept of fallen angel simeon #its so good #so much potential

[shadowdaddies]

Reunited - Part III

Fenrys x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: After years of working as a spy in Adarlan, you are finally reunited with your cousin, Aelin, as you join the war to reclaim Terrasen and bring peace to Erilea. What you don't expect is to meet your mate in the middle of a war.

A/N: for those whom I told the next parts would be less angsty... that doesn't refer to this one I'm so sorry

Warnings: canon-typical violence, KOA spoilers

Your muscles were heavy from peaceful sleep, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as eyes fluttered open to see Aedion and Gavriel standing at the opposite side of the room from where you lay.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you looked around to find yourself in a tent, piles of blankets and furs draped over where you had been sleeping on the ground.

“She’ll be furious with you,” Aedion whispered, seemingly unaware that you had awoken. “But I thank you,” he ground out, the resistance clear in his tone as he looked to your father. 

Gavriel’s tawny eyes flicked to you, lined with sorrow as memories came rushing back. Your entire body heated with pure rage and fear, nails clawing into the covers of your makeshift bed as you tossed the covers away. 

“You,” you seethed, eyes wide and teeth bared as you stood to face Gavriel. It was Aedion who stepped between you, his eyes showing a vulnerability you had yet to see him reveal in front of your father. 

“I know you are upset. But for once,” he glanced pointedly at Gavriel, “he did the right thing. No good could have come from Maeve knowing that you are Fenrys’s mate.”

Hearing his name unleashed a wave of emotion, a lump catching in your throat as the bond screamed inside of you, longing for your other half. “He’s gone,” you whispered, voice breaking as painful, hopeless thoughts eddied in a whirlpool, threatening to drown you. “I may never truly know my mate, because of you,” you growled the last word, tone piercing Gavriel enough to make him flinch.

Aedion fully stepped in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks, covering your father from your view. “Listen to me. Maeve would have used you to torture him. She would have used you to torture Aelin. Saving him was not an option when he is so close to Maeve. Their blood oath is too strong.”

Your eyes shuttered as the hopeless realization crashed over you like an ocean wave knocking you below the surface. You stepped back, willing your thoughts to calm enough to look at Gavriel’s face, his expression full of guilt and worry. “I swear to you, we will find him. We will free him, if it is the last thing that I do.” He spoke with such conviction, you felt your heart soften, suddenly feeling guilty for how you had spoken to Gavriel.

Before you could find the words to apologize, Gavriel continued. “That is why we are headed north. Aedion leaves for Orynth shortly, but we will be joining Rowan along with Lorcan and Elide. So long as you feel that bond in your chest, we can use it to find Fenrys and Aelin.”

You nodded, shifting into the familiar mindset of a spy as you had lived for so long. “When do we leave?” 

A soft, proud smile graced Aedion’s lips, your brother pulling you in for a hug as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I leave now. I had just come to say goodbye,” he murmured. It was an all too familiar sentiment in your family - the sacrifice of leaving your loved ones in the name of duty. 

“Stay safe. I will see you soon,” you responded, not an encouragement, but an oath - one that you clung to, your chest tight as your brother disappeared out the tent. Gaze flicking to Gavriel, you raised your eyebrows in silent question.

“We leave as soon as Rowan returns from the neighboring town. He and Elide are there looking for information from the locals, and we will decide where to travel from there.” All you could manage was a nod, your emotions still roiling deep within underneath your calm facade. 

You packed in silence, Gavriel’s stare burning into your side as you avoided interaction. You had just finished packing and dismantling your tent when Rowan and Elide returned, their eyes lit with a similar wired determination as your own. 

Pine green eyes locked with yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you and Rowan - that the two of you would allow the world to burn to ash before you would allow it to take your mates.

“We’re leaving for Doranelle,” Rowan announced, brooking no room for questions before he helped load your and Elide’s bags onto horses. Giving Rowan a sharp nod, you followed suit, gathering necessities for the journey. 

The dying embers of the campfire the only trace of your existence in the forest, your group headed for Doranelle, Rowan letting out a cry as he shifted into hawk form, soaring above as you journeyed below. The day passed mostly in silence, tensions thick between you and your father, and Elide and Lorcan. 

At your request, Elide explained in brief detail why you were headed towards one of Maeve’s strongholds. She and Rowan had come across one of Maeve’s soldiers at an inn, but the shudder that passed through her when you asked for more told you all that you needed to know about how Rowan acquired that information, and you let the conversation drop.

The sun had long since set when fatigue weighed heavy on your bones, head aching from lack of food and rest. Gavriel sensed it, his too-knowing eyes scanning your sluggish movements, the limp that Elide was trying to hide. 

“We will stop here for the night,” he spoke, low voice not allowing any arguments, not that you could form any. You practically crashed into the ground where you stood at his words, Elide settling next to you as Lorcan gathered kindling. 

There remained little talk among the group. You couldn’t speak for others, but you knew that if you tried to speak, emotions would burst forth like water through a broken dam, the carefully maintained mask of strength you were wearing to be shattered into pieces. Gavriel, Lorcan, and Elide mumbled their good nights, while you and Rowan sat by the fire. 

The twisting, flickering flames held your attention in a captivating dance, the only distraction you could find from the constant agony you felt throughout your body, the unbearable weight of your mate’s pain echoing in each fiber of your soul.

You dared a glance at Rowan, his sharp eyes moving from the fire towards you. You supposed the fire meant something different to him - a reminder of his other half, the closest thing he had to her in this moment. It was a different kind of pain, but one that you could understand as the others did not.

“Do you feel her, too?” you managed, voice cracking through the strained whisper. Rowan’s brow dipped, confusion flickering across his features before understanding settled. 

“No,” he choked, and you worried that you had said the wrong thing. “No, I cannot feel her through the bond. I think whatever  But I know she is there, she is alive. That much I can feel.” A shaky breath escaped you, eyes lining with silver as you curled into your body, gaze focused back on the flames in front of you.

“Can you? Feel him?” Rowan pressed, voice soft as the night breeze. Your eyes squeezed shut, the only hope you had to keep those tears from falling, but one escaped, cold warm against your chilled skin as it traced your cheek.

“Yes,” you breathed, a sob building in your lungs as you gasped for air. “Yes, I feel everything. I feel his pain, I feel his loneliness, I-“

Words were stolen from your lungs as your chest seized, inexplicable pain, grief, bringing you to your knees. You were vaguely aware of Rowan’s presence, a warm hand on your back as sobs wracked your body. Wave after wave of grief and shame barreled into you, body shaking with the force of emotions being thrust upon you.

“Breathe,” Rowan murmured, his hand on your back a grounding comfort as the emotions faded, a distinct numbness filling your senses. Emptiness consumed your being, the only reminder that you were still alive the flames in front of you. 

Silver hair illuminated in the firelight, moving into your vision as Rowan kneeled in front of you. “Can you say... what happened?” he breathed, fear in his eyes as he dared the question.

“He’s not... he isn’t dead,” you managed, the knot in your chest loosening slightly as Rowan visibly relaxed. “Something terrible happened, Rowan. If what I felt was only a small part of what Fenrys is feeling...” Whatever hold you had on your own emotions was lost in that moment, tears falling freely as you cried.

Another hand landed on your shoulder, and you looked up through blurry eyes to see your father watching you, heartbreak written on his features. On instinct, you crashed into him, throwing your arms around Gavriel’s neck, breathing in his comforting scent. 

Conversations were happening in the background - Lorcan and Elide apparently also wakened by your cries - but you held onto your father, finding a small piece of solace in having him here.

Gavriel’s hand lifted, a canteen handed to him which he brought to your hands. “Here, drink this,” he murmured, tawny eyes observing carefully as your shaky hands gripped the vessel. Forcing small sips of water down your throat, breathing came easier, and you noticed Rowan, Lorcan, and Elide all standing nearby. 

“I’m not going to stay the night,” Rowan said, moving back towards where you sat. “If you want to rest, Gavriel will stay with you and Elide. But if you-“

“I’m going with you,” you interrupted. Rowan merely nodded, as thought your response was exactly what he expected. Lorcan was already moving, packing and loading supplies as Rowan’s power suffocated the fire.

You walked in line with Gavriel, leaves and sticks crunching under your boots as owls hooted against the still-darkened sky. “I can feel him, still,” you murmured, eyes downcast at your scuffed, muddied shoes. “I feel him, but it’s different than before. He’s... hollow. It’s like this numbness, and I can’t reach his end of the bond, so I don’t know if he can feel me.” 

Your eyes burned with tears you were too drained to shed when Gavriel grabbed your hand, turning you to stop and look up at him. “Do not give up. I know it hurts, I know what Maeve is capable of. But please, be better than me. Fight for Fenrys. He deserves that. You deserve that. And we will find him, and Aelin.”

Pushing up on your toes, you placed a kiss to your father’s cheek, your eyes never leaving his as you spoke. “You did the right thing. I have already mourned a childhood without you, but I’ve been allowed to know you now, and I am so thankful for a father as selfless as you, who was willing to sacrifice seeing his children grow to keep us safe. You didn’t give up, and I will not either.”

You both turned, heads snapping forward towards the road ahead as Gavriel cleared his throat, eyes shining with emotion as you continued the rest of your walk in silence.

By the time you arrived in Doranelle, your feet hurt like never before, entire body sore from long travels and lack of sleep. Your group hid in the trees just outside the main road through town. Elide turned to you, a fire in her eyes that lit one in your chest. 

“The males are too recognizable, so you will all stay out here and keep a low profile while I go into town. I’m going to see if anyone has information about Cairn’s location, because we know he’s with Aelin and Fenrys.”

You shook your head. “I’m coming with you. You’re not going alone into town, and it would be suspicious if you were by yourself.” You looked around, Lorcan giving you a grateful smile while Gavriel opened his mouth as if to argue. Before he could say anything, you took Elide’s hand and set off towards town.

Doranelle was bustling, people shopping and selling throughout the streets, men calling for your attention as the two of you walked at a brisk pace, eyes and ears open for any sign of danger.

Multiple groups of people shuffled in the same direction, your gaze following their movements towards a pub that appeared to be full of travelers and locals alike. “That’s where we should go,” you murmured to Elide, her dark eyes joining yours as she studied the tavern’s entrance.

Releasing your hand, Elide led the way into the building, instructing you to take a seat wherever you could find one as she took the lead. You found a small booth, thankful for the weight off your feet and even the rancid beer a barmaid slid your way.

It was pure entertainment, a respite from the hellish reality you had been living lately, as you watched Elide put on a show of the helpless maiden. Batting her long lashes, giving shy smiles, she wrung any information she could from the tavern’s patrons while you kept watch.

Everyone seemed taken by her story, the heartbroken lover of Maeve’s general, except for one female. She lounged at one of the tables, chestnut brown eyes watching Elide with a keen, quiet interest. And then Elide mentioned Cairn.

A hush fell over the room, the mood instantly sobering at the mention of the newest member of Maeve’s cadre. Expressions turned cold, even sour as people closed themselves off to Elide’s charm. They definitely knew something, and as you watched Elide excuse herself to the washroom, you caught the striking female with chestnut eyes from before stand up quickly, dark brown hair flowing around her as she turned and followed Elide down the hall.

You were quick behind her, dagger sheathed discreetly at your side. Using your blade, you wedged open the door to the washroom to find Elide wide-eyed, tension thick in the air as she and the female stared at each other. 

Your blade quickly found the female’s neck, your foot kicking the door shut behind you. “Who are you, and what do you know?” you questioned, voice lethally calm.

The female didn’t struggle, her demeanor relaxed as she spoke. “My name is Essar. I mean no harm - I simply wanted to warn your friend to stay away from Cairn. But it appears she is better protected than I believed.” 

Her voice remained calm as she dared to turn towards you, unbothered at how your blade dug further into her skin. “Why do you look for Cairn, truly?”

Your gaze hardened on Essar, assessing the trustworthiness of this new character. “That would depend. What is he to you?” you asked, releasing her so slightly from your hold.

A scoff escaped her lips, nearly a slight laugh as though your question was absurd. “He is nothing to me. And Maeve is less than nothing,” she ground out, venom lacing her tone. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips at her spite. 

“We have business to attend to regarding Cairn,” you murmured, gaze flicking towards the door to check it was closed. 

A knowing gleam shone in Essar’s eyes. “You have Gavriel’s eyes,” she whispered, clearing her throat as she studied you and Elide. “Cairn is at the camp just north of town. He was seen there this morning.”

It was an effort to not let your surprise show, but somehow you knew that you could trust Essar. Hope sprang in your chest, as though the bond was confirming Fenrys was close. “Thank you,” you murmured, to Essar, hand reaching for the doorknob as you gestured for Elide to follow.

“Give them Hell,” Essar said, chin raised proudly. You gave her a final nod of thanks before slipping out the door. Elide could barely keep up with your pace as you raced through town, back to the edge of the woods where the males waited. Now that you knew where Fenrys was, nothing could hold you back from finding him.

You were both short of breath, struggling to explain all that Essar had shared with you at the tavern. “I believe her,” you said, looking to Rowan and Gavriel for validation. But it was Lorcan whose eyes grew soft as you spoke of the female you had met, the other males looking to Lorcan for only a brief moment before Rowan cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

“We can trust her,” he said. “I’ll take to the skies. You follow my lead - we’ll walk around town to avoid running into Maeve’s soldiers for now.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you watched as Rowan launched into the air, your group quietly following the path of the hawk as it led you around the edge of town. Sounds of soldiers running drills, sparring, blacksmiths at work all filled your ears as rows and rows of tents came into view. 

Breath caught in your lungs, the twist of hope and fear electric as it shot through your body. A warm hand wrapped around yours, and you looked down as Gavriel gave it a comforting squeeze. “I am with you,” he whispered.

Words evaded you, but you managed to nod to your father - a silent acknowledgment: "I am with you, too."

Scanning the grounds of the camp, you searched for a way in. There were too many tents, too many places Fenrys and Aelin could be. But your thoughts were interrupted by the bloody cry of a hawk, and before your mind could catch up to your body, you found yourself running, sword drawn, towards the center of camp where Rowan flew.

Soldiers charged you, your adrenaline pumping as you cut them down one by one. Red flooded your gaze as you saw a shell of a female, weighed in familiar iron shackles as she stumbled out of a tent on thin legs. 

Blood pounded in your ears, the faint sound of Lorcan yelling at your side all that you could register as Aelin ran towards you. You couldn’t stop the flow of tears as you locked eyes with your cousin through the iron mask she wore, heart somehow shattered and whole at the sight of her, alive yet broken.

“Fenrys,” she choked. “Fenrys!” Aelin’s voice cried. She whipped around like a wild animal caught in a trap, yelling at Rowan and Lorcan, pleading for them to find your mate. 

You rose to chase after him, but Rowan’s pleading look settled that rage within you - he would find your mate while you protected his. And so you watched him run through the camp with Lorcan, a beautiful storm of chaos as the warriors partnered seamlessly in battle. 

The clanking of chains pulled you from your daze, Aelin scratching at her binds. “Take it off take it off take it OFF,” she screamed, voice hoarse as she chanted violently. Rowan appeared by her side, his hands working as they tried to find an opening on the mask. Rowan.

Your eyes went wild, an unexplainable ache carving itself into your chest as you stood, spinning clumsily while you searched for any sign of Fenrys. The sight of white fur on the ground, Gavriel leaning over the wolf who lay, covered in blood and barely breathing snapped something within you. 

As your father gave you a helpless look, the world cleaved in two, as though half of your soul was ripped from your chest. Collapsing to the ground, your hand wove in Fenrys’s fur as onyx eyes gazed at you, unblinking. 

There was no room in your heart for more tears at this point. Everything had been taken from you - so you lay there, watching the last hope you had for a future, for love, as he faded away.

You didn’t head the commotion behind you as Rowan managed to break the Wyrd marks locking Aelin’s chains, how she crawled weakly to Fenrys’s side across from you. The words, “live, Fenrys. Live,” echoed through your head, Aelin’s voice like a helpless prayer.

And then he blinked. Gold flecks shone in his eyes, chest rising slowly as your mate released a soft whine. Your heart burst with joy, love pouring from your end of the bond as you were finally able to reach Fenrys.

Your hand reached out to him just as he shifted into his human form, long blonde curls fallen across his beautiful face as he stared at you. “Is this real?” he rasped, and you nodded, a broken laugh escaping as you sat up, pulling Fenrys’s head into your lap as his hands found yours, holding onto them like a lifeline.

“He’s gone,” Fenrys whispered, his gaze distant. You felt it then - the hollow feeling, the numbness you had felt through the bond. “Connall,” he murmured, eyes finding yours as a tear rolled down his cheek, and you understood. Fenrys had lost a part of himself - Maeve had taken so much from your mate.

“I will kill her,” you vowed. 

Fenrys’s hand lifted to brush your cheek. “You were my hope. The only strength I found to keep going.” 

Taking his hand from your cheek, you pressed a kiss to his palm. Flames danced in your eyes. “For what she did to you, to Connall, to Aelin. She will burn.”

tag list: @hellodarling1357 @sassyslytherinshai

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #fenrys throne of glass #throne of glass angst #throne of glass fanfic #fenrys tog #throne of glass fenrys #fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam angst #tog imagine #tog series #tog x reader #kingdom of ash #tog fic #tog x you #tog x reader angst #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #aedthetic photography #gavriel throne of glass #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan #tog #tog x reader fluff #throne of glass imagine

[cumulo-stratus]

Trypanophobia

Request- yes/no

Pairing- Spencer Reid x FtM!reader

Summary- spencer helps you with your T shots because your fear of needles is getting in the way <3

Warnings- Needles, discussions of fear of needles, Spencer being a pookie bear 🫶

A/N- thank you so much for the request lovie!! We love a good ftm reader ☺️🫶 and thank you everybody for all the love recently, I've had a lot of fun writing more often!!

wc- 1.1k

This wasn't supposed to happen. 

It wasn't supposed to go like this. 

Spencer was supposed to be there with you. 

The needle shook between your fingers, you could barely hold it with how intense your hands trembled. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, the perpetual sound of the whirring fan above you. But the shaking wouldn't stop, you even tried your other grounding strategies, recommended by Spencer's bubbly coworker, penelope. But you couldn't get the needle straight- and you probably wouldn’t. But you had to try. 

Ill tell you, trying didn't work- you couldn't stop spiraling at the idea of a sharp object piercing your skin. And now you were left with a still full of testosterone needle on the floor next to you, tear stained cheeks, and a boyfriend who wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another four or five hours. It was a sticky situation and you were left reeling at the fact that this would have to be done at some point. You didn't want the little testosterone you could afford to go to waste, after all, the FBI is not as lucrative of a career as one might think, and you don't get paid to go to university.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, and doubts to hear the sound of the door to your apartment opening and closing again. 

Spencer. 

Your saving grace Spencer, as he always was and always would be found you sitting on the floor of the tiny bathroom, leaning against the toilet and crying with a needle in your hand. Spencer's mind immediately went to the worst, his own fears and experiences flooding his memory- but then he saw the little bottle labeled ‘Testosterone’, and lots of other little labels he couldn't read. 

“Oh darling what happened? come ’ere.”

Spencer opened his arms and invited you to lean into him, just as you often did. but today you needed it more than most days. 

“I- I i’m sorry- i shou-“

“don’t apologize- we all have hard days, just tell me what happened okay love?”

you nodded, knowing there was no arguing when he shuts down your apologies like that. his hands started rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion, trying to calm the occasional sob that still bubbled up. You took a breath before responding, trying not to let your voice crack when you spoke. 

“i tried spencer- i tried so hard to do it on my own- but I can't. And I know I should, it's just a needle it's not that big a deal! but- but-“

Words tumbled from your lips so fast that your brain could barely keep up, but you were interrupted again by Spencer pressing his lips to yours, effectively stopping you from rambling any further. When he pulled away there was a smile on his face, and you couldn't stop the small, sorrowful smile that slipped onto your lips when he kissed you. Spencer's kisses always did that, they always made you smile.

“slow down handsome, i'll do it for you it's okay,”

Spencer's tone was soft and caring, his voice never failed to quiet your thoughts. But you still couldn't bring yourself to look in his eyes- old habits die hard and accepting help from others, especially when you were vulnerable like this was a hard drug to kick.

“Are you sure? you don’t have to if you don't want to- don’t feel like you have to,”

Spencer just chuckled and picked up the needle from its fallen place on the white tile, his encyclopedic knowledge coming in handy, allowing him to know how to properly clean and handle the needle.

Spencer decided to lead you from the bathroom and onto the large, plush couch which offered much more comfort than the bathroom floor. He made sure your left leg was hanging off the couch and that your shorts were pushed up so he had access to it your upper, outer, thigh. All his motions were gentle and intentional, carefully trying to make the experience as comfortable as possible despite your fear of needles. 

Spencer could still sense the doubt in your eyes at the notion of him doing so much for you, but he put that to rest by taking your hand in his and placing a kiss on the knuckles and reassuring you, “You know i don't mind taking care of you, you know- i actually enjoy it. You're my prince, I'm gonna treat you like it-” Spencer had an almost bashful smile on his lips when he spoke, causing you to blush.

“i know- i just dont think im ever gonna get used to it,”

Your comment made Spencer chuckle as he did the final preparations for your injection, he was honestly more giddy then you were for your first shot. But Spencer had always been one of your biggest supporters in your transition.

“Alright I'm gonna count to three, and do the shot on three, ready?”

You nodded and steeled yourself, turning your head the other direction so you wouldn't have to look at it. With everything set, spencer began to count.

“1…2…3…”

Spencer poked you with the needle on two.

You yelped and turned to Spencer with an incredulous look on your face, mouth agape at his perceived betrayal. Your boyfriend smirked, leaving a peck on your cheek before saying, “ baby your muscles were gonna be tensed and it would’ve hurt more if I did it on three- I did it all out of love,”. The playful tone of Spencer's voice matched his expression, and you mirrored it- all notions of betrayal forgotten for Spencer's soft touch as he pulled you into his arms for a bone crushing hug. 

“I'm proud of you, you know. Trypanophobia affects 1 in 4 adults, and you have to do this everyday now! you’re so strong, even if you need some help sometimes..”

Spencer punctuates his statement with a meaningful kiss to your lips, holding your hands as he does. His palms radiate heat into your own slightly chilly extremities. Spencer was practically a human heater, and you always took advantage of it in times like this. 

You eventually pulled away for air with a smile, but it fell again and you leaned your head back with a groan. Immediately spencer was worried he’d done something wrong, but his worries dissipated when you spoke again,

“I'm gonna have to do this everyday! for the next who knows how long,”

You punctuated your complaint with a groan, your head flopping back forward to smush your face into your boyfriend's shoulder, muffling the groan. Spencer just chuckled and placed a small kiss on your scalp, and mumbling,

“And i'll be there for every one of them.”

The End

#criminal minds #BAU #bau team #spencer reid #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid x ftm reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #FTM reader #x ftm reader #Requests !!

[nut4shuri]

ARGUMENT'S

(18+)

(Letitia Wright x Reader)

(short)

Warning's : ⚠️Some SMUT and Provocative Language Used⚠️

~

"You let that fucking dipshit touch you!" She screams at you from across the room.

"I told him to stop"

"ODVIOUSLY HE DIDN'T GET THE FUCKING MIMO YOU IDIOT!"she freezed up as she realized she had gone to far.

You turn and look at her with wide eyes as you take your pocket book and throw it her way.

"Who the fuck are you talking to!"

All this started because the interviewer during your interview he had gotten a little touchy and Letitia didn't like that.

Even after you told him on numerous occasions that you weren't looking for a relationship or anything and that you've already found your "somebody"

And Letitia had gotten upset and begin screaming at you,calling you all types of names even when you tried to apologize.

And and something had made you think it must have been all the pressure she was under lately but you realized

....

Normally you and Letitia don't argue.

You don't speak to her all day.

You don't give her her morning breakfast..😏

You dress more provocative..even when she orders you to change.

You call her by her first name.

You purposely tick her off all throughout the day.

When she talks to you she never looks at you but keeps her shades on and looks forward. (Cause she knows its one of your pet peeves)

But even though shes angry she never fails to treat you like the princess you are.

She still opens doors,and closes them.

She kisses you good bye and never forgets to say "i love you".

She has a sad look in her eye's as if she's sorrowful but her ego won't let up.

"Letitia you where spacing out the whole interview,what's up?"

"Me and Y/N had an argument and im kinda regretting it.."

If it got to much,or went on for two long she would try to ease her way into your good graces.

"Look baby im sorry.."

"I fucked up please baby talk to me."

"Please."

But the sex yall have after yall make up is unholy asf.

As soon as she gets tired of the utter silence she pulls you to the side and give you a full on SPEECH apology.

She gets really rough becayse shes so hungry for your touch.

She eats you out till and says "im sorry" each time after you cum.

She tells you how much she love you,whispering sweet nothing in your ears as her strap drills in and out of you.

"Im sorry baby fuckk"she screams as she slides her wet pussy over yours.

"Fuck baby its to much" you say trying your hardest to push her head away or stop her movments but she dosent budge.

"But i really want you to forgive me."she says as digs her fingers deeper into you.

After Hours of her Fucking You.

She bathes you.

She helps you clean around the house.

She takes you out to your favorite restaurant.

She buys you flowers,LOTS OF FLOWERS.

She does not keep her hands and eyes off of you.

You have her full undivided attention.

She takes you to the mall,and lets you max out her card.

You two sit and laugh about how stupid the fight was.

" We should fight more often." She says winking at you.

🤍jay:if anybody asks..i didn't write this.📌

#i love shuri #letitia wright #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #princess shuri #mywifeee #that makeup sex was some serious