#but it’s tender!!! and precious!!!! and very delicate!!!!

[storiesoflilies]

an italian summer with satoru gojo was opulent: sandalwood-scented breezes, delicate hints of lavender and lime, lemon trees bowing gracefully over narrow cobbled stairways, and chiffon curtains blowing over open bay windows. the very best suite that money could buy overlooked the sea, with a private infinity pool carved into the natural rock of the cliff, as if it was always meant to be there.

their deep wine glasses chimed as they clinked them together. satoru dripped with a rich saccharine ease as he pinched the stem of his glass, swirling the white wine as he sipped tentatively, tasting and savoring with practiced finesse.

she tilted her head, caressing the wine over the tip of her tongue before swallowing. satoru gazed at her with twinkling cerulean stars, waiting with bated breath. “do you like it, my love?” he hummed expectantly, adoringly. “think you could share a bottle with me?”

all of this was for her, you see. completely booking out a restaurant over a cliff on the amalfi coast, turquoise tyrrhenian sea crashing against the rocks just below them, sending a spray of salt and mysteries even this high up.

“yeah,” she replied, smiling softly, a breeze running through the pink silk ribbons in her hair, lips painted in a glossy blush.

satoru’s lip curled upwards as he turned to nod at the waiter, who poured them both a full glass and left the bottle chilling in a ice-cold silver bucket, condensation trailing down the outside onto the white tablecloth. he pulled her chair closer to his, and his aroma overwhelmed her in a woody citrus haze, touches of jasmine smoothing the edges of him into her like a melting ice cube.

“are you happy, my love?” he whispered, full of reverence and all things holy and tender, his plush lips tickling the lobe of her ear. “is this what you wanted?”

she giggled innocently, pearly teeth flashing in the afternoon sun-haze. “you didn’t have to do all this for me. i would have still been happy eating italian takeaway at home.”

satoru scoffed and waved his hand, his honey lips skimming over the soft curve of her neck. “absolutely not. only the best for my pretty girl.”

she surrendered to his touch, his teeth nibbling and teasing as she sighed in ecstasy. she wanted to stay here forever, trapped in a watercolor painting of this moment; strokes in hues of baby pinks and blues, with golden light kissing down the crinkles of his linen shirt.

“satoro,” she whined, setting down her wineglass before any of its precious contents spilled, as his frosty-white hair tickled her jawline. “someone’s going to see us.”

“then let them. let them see how much i love you in a place almost as beautiful as you. let them see and crave what we have.”

a kiss on her cupid’s bow.

“they can never have this.”

a kiss in the space between her brows.

“they can never have you.”

@venusiansilk i hope you have even a just little smile on your face after this, and your dreams tonight are of italian summers with your love <3

#💭 lily’s imagination runs wild #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo fic #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen

[rynwritesreid]

Feel so close| Spencer Reid

A/N: if anyone has any good ideas for angst or fluff, or wants to send some requests through. Please do. I obviously love all of your smut requests (i truly do) but I would also love some angst and fluff ones (heavy on the angst ones).

Summary: It’s yours and Spencer’s wedding night and you want to give him what he has always wanted.

Content: Fem!reader. Fluff. Smut. 18+ MDNI. Oral (r!receiving). Creampie. P in V. Slight dom/sub undertones. Breeding kink. Very fluff filled sex I won’t lie. Porn with a plot.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer was so close to living his dream life, and he could not be any happier. He had just seen his dream girl walk down the aisle to become Mrs Reid. And while he couldn’t be any happier, there was one thing, or really rather a few things, missing that would make his life perfect. 

As he watched the last of the guests fade away, he couldn’t wait to take you to your shared hotel room. He couldn’t stop staring at you, knowing that tonight was the beginning of your forever together. 

As you both entered the elegant suite, Spencer couldn’t get enough of how you looked in your wedding dress, but he also couldn’t wait to get it off you.

 His hands trembled with anticipation as he reached out to caress the delicate lace adorning your shoulder. The room was aglow with the soft light of a dozen candles, casting flickering shadows across your face. 

He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, savouring the sweetness of the moment. “I love you Mrs Reid.” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with love and adoration. You smiled back at him, feeling a rush of warmth and happiness in your chest.

“I love you more, Dr Reid.” You whispered back, your voice barely above a breath.

His heart swelled with joy at your words, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the luxurious four-poster bed adorned with rose petals. 

“You know there is only one thing right now that could make me even happier.” Spencer grinned mischievously as he lowered you onto the soft mattress, the petals fluttering around you like a fragrant snowfall. His eyes sparkled with desire as he leaned into whisper in your ear.

"What's that?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation, your heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

“If you were to become pregnant with my child.” Spencer gently confessed; his voice filled with hope. 

“I’m sure we can make that happen, Spencer.” You whispered back, a playful glint in your eyes. “I know you have always wanted to be a dad.”

Spencer's face lit up with pure happiness at your words, his heart overflowing with love for you. Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, letting all his emotions pour into the moment.

Spencer carefully started to undress you, his movements slow and reverent as if unwrapping a precious gift. The air was thick with desire and anticipation as he leaned in to kiss every inch of your exposed skin, worshipping you like a devoted lover.

“You are officially my pretty girl now.” Spencer murmured against your skin; his hand was placed on your stomach “I can’t wait to see carrying my child.” 

With a loving smile, you traced your fingers along his jawline, savouring the moment. “And I can’t wait to start a family with you, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world to have him by your side.

Once your dress had come completely off, Spencer couldn’t take his eyes of your white lingerie that hugged your curves in all the right places. Desire burned in his eyes as he slowly removed his own clothes, every movement deliberate and filled with longing.

In that moment, nothing else existed for Spencer except for you, the woman who held his heart in her hands. As he kissed you with a hunger that spoke of all the love and passion he felt.

Spencer slowly started kissing his way down your body, leaving no part of you neglected. His mouth was tender and passionate as he explored every inch, savouring each taste and touch. You laid there, feeling like the most desired woman in the world, your body responding to his every move.

His hands traced delicate patterns over your skin, sending ripples of desire through you. His lips then lingered at the base of your neck, and you could feel the heat from his breath. It was a gentle yet powerful affirmation of his deep love for you.

Your breathing became shallow and quick as Spencer continued his exploration, and you found yourself arching your back, inviting him closer. He seemed to sense your need and desire, and his own lustrous eyes betrayed the intensity of his own cravings.

When his lips finally reached the most intimate part of your body, a soft gasp escaped your lips. His touch was gentle yet so powerful in its ability to awaken you, and you knew that no one else could make you feel this way.

As his lips continued to lavish attention upon you, your entire body seemed to come alive with electricity, every nerve ending firing in response to his tender caresses.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and whispered, "Spencer, I need you inside me more than ever. I want to feel you, I want to feel you complete me." Your voice trembled with desire as you spoke.

Spencer looked into your eyes, his love for you a fiery catalyst. He positioned himself over you, the anticipation making his heart race with excitement. With a deep breath, he slowly entered you, the feeling of the warmth and tightness of your body around him, unparalleled.

He slowly began to move, his rhythm in perfect harmony with the pulse of your body, matching the rhythm of your breath as his love for you grew with every stroke.

Spencer once again placed his hand on your lower stomach, he knew realistically he couldn’t feel himself, but he cherished every moment, every sensation, every feeling of being deep within you. He kissed you gently, passionately, and whispered soft encouragement, "It won't be long before I can feel you carrying my child."

Your breaths became more ragged, you wanted nothing more than to make Spencer a dad, to let everyone know you belonged to him.  And so, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you, increasing the intensity of the moment.

Spencer's eyes locked with yours, the love and desire in them impossible to resist. He moved faster, his pace becoming more urgent, as he sought to fulfil your shared dream. Your bodies moved in perfect sync.

Every muscle in your body tightened in response to his touch, as your climax drew closer with each thrust, a primal urge to merge with him and create new life together overwhelmed you.

Spencer wasn’t far from his own release. His heart was pounding in his chest, and a sense of awe and gratitude washed over him as he felt himself getting closer.

With one final thrust, Spencer cried out your name, his pleasure mingling with the tenderness of the moment. His heart overflowed with love and gratitude. 

He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding in your ears. You held onto him, feeling the pulse of his heart against the warmth of your skin, and a bond stronger than any connection you'd ever known.

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#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid #sub reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

[jenanigans1207]

IF YOU GUYS DON’T STOP BEING NICE TO ME ABOUT DISCRIMINATING TASTE, IM GOING TO BE A SOBBING PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR AND SOBBING PUDDLES CANT WRITE NEW CHAPTERS

#so just consider that when you leave me lovely and encouraging comments and warm bookmark notes #I’m just so #bwkwofidbejsk #there aren’t words for it #but it’s tender!!! and precious!!!! and very delicate!!!! #bkdk cooking au #discriminating taste

[missmugiwara]

A Secret

Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?

Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.

✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦

Luffy's strength was no secret.

Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?

Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.

Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.

You loved him so much.

It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.

He was so strong.

Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?

A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.

"Luffy!"

The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.

The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.

One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.

A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.

You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.

"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.

The words were nearly lost in the breeze.

A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.

"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.

Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.

She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"

You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.

"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"

Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."

And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.

It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.

It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.

"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"

You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.

"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.

"What a man."

You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.

The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?

What were you even waiting for?

Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.

Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.

Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.

You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.

"What's… what's wrong, captain?"

Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.

"You didn't say anything!" he whined.

Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.

"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."

Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.

How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?

With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.

"Hottie."

You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

And Luffy grinned.

"Keep talking like that. I like it!"

Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.

"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.

"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."

With that, he walked off.

And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.

#luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x y/n #mugi writes

[vampsywrites]

Can you do one where Ao'nung is an asshole with everyone but his wife/courted. Like he'll forget to use manners, one gentle but reprimanding tug of his ear and he adds a, "please" to the end of his sentence.

I can see Ronal finding this very amusing.

my soul, you really took my soul

synopsis: moments where fishlips is soft for you <3

tags: established relationship, kissing n making out, lo'ak trying to impress fishlips, i believe in whipped! ao'nung supremacy

author's note: sorry for the late response! my laptop exploded <3

Your laughter filled the air as Ao'nung planted warm kisses across your face, his large hands cupping your face delicately.

"Hmm, Ao'nung," you purred, a soft grin adorning your lips as you inclined your head, reveling in the tender affection.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this precious moment. But even amidst the sweetness, a gentle reminder of reality pulled you back.

"There are people around," you managed to say between your laughter, fully aware of the curious eyes that might be watching your affectionate display with the chief's son.

"Yeah?" Ao'nung's mischievous smirk only grew broader, his eyes dancing with a playful glimmer as he cast aside any concerns. He pulled you in even closer, his hands resting upon your hips as he drew you into a deep kiss.

"Let them watch then," he grinned, his fangs lightly grazing against your bottom lip as he spoke.

Just as the two of you were fully immersed in this intimate moment, it was abruptly interrupted by a shout.

"Fishlips!" Lo'ak called out, brandishing a fishing net, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction.

Ao'nung cursed under his breath, distancing himself from your embrace as he directed a scowl towards Lo'ak.

"What?" he snapped, his voice tinged with impatience, yearning to be away from the unwelcome disruption.

Undeterred, Lo'ak displayed his spoil. "Look what I caught," he smirked, raising the net filled with a writhing dinicthoid for all to see.

Even from a distance, the creature's appearance was apparent, with its gargoyle-like features, beady red eyes, and razor-sharp teeth. Despite its dangerous allure, the dinicthoid held great significance to the Na'vi, and capturing one during the hunt was a testament to a warrior's bravery.

"Got it on the first try," the Omatikayan boasted, dropping the squirming fish at Ao'nung's feet with a resounding thud.

Ao'nung regarded the catch with narrowed eyes, a trace of admiration flickering beneath his facade. "Must have been a lucky shot," he grumbled, trying to downplay his surprise in front of Lo'ak.

Tutting softly, you reached out and lightly swatted the side of his head, a gesture that only you could get away with. Ao'nung felt a mixture of embarrassment and affection as he gazed at you with mild bewilderment.

"Come on," you said, your tone light. "Give him some credit. Lo'ak provided for the clan, and we should appreciate that."

Ao'nung sighed, ears flickering back. By your command, he turned back to Lo'ak and offered a begrudging nod. "Well done, forest boy," he mumbled, attempting to conceal the annoyance that gnawed at him.

Satisfied with the acknowledgment, Lo'ak swaggered away, his pride evident in every step.

"Finally," Ao'nung huffed, a mix of relief and exasperation in his voice. He turned to you, a slight smile forming at the edges of his lips, as if your presence could chase away all his frustrations. "Thought he would never leave."

"Well, now he has," you replied, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes as your tail playfully trailed up his thigh. "Now, where were we?"

Ao'nung's gruff exterior melted away, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to meet you halfway. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his embrace.

As the night settled in, the village gathered around a crackling fire, its warmth and light creating a cozy atmosphere. The scent of roasted fish wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic beat of drums. The clan was in high spirits, celebrating the fresh snd successful hunt.

"Right here," he whispered, voice a gentle rumble as he connected his lips to yours.

You sat beside Ao'nung, eating with him from your shared plate. It was a routine you two had grown used to after so many years together. He had always appreciated your presence, finding comfort in the familiarity of your company amidst the bustling celebration. The way your laughter blended with the melodic chants and the soft murmur of conversations added to the sense of belonging and togetherness that filled the air.

"Yawne," Ao'nung called out, his attention momentarily drawn to his meal. "Pass me that sauce."

Instead of obliging immediately, you gave him a playful look, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you reached up to pinch at his ear. Ao'nung jerked back, letting out a grunt of pain.

With a knowing expression, you met his gaze. Understanding your unspoken message, Ao'nung heaved a dramatic sigh of defeat.

"Ma'yawne," he called out again, adding a hint of contrition in his voice. "Please pass me that sauce," he grunted out, emphasizing the word you oh so wished to hear.

"That's better. It doesn't hurt to be polite," you grin, fingers brushing against his momentarily as you passed the bowl, sending an electrifying warmth coursing through him.

Your smile widened, and you reached for the wooden bowl with a nod of approval.

Ao'nung grumbled good-naturedly, but his heart swelled with warmth as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle, pulling you flush against him. The little tug-of-war between you had always been a part of your relationship, and it was something he treasured deeply even if he didn't say it out loud.

Across the table, both Ronal and Tonowari watched the scene before them in amusement. No matter how many times they saw it, your interactions and dynamics were always so entertaining to them.

Ao'nung notices their states and turns to them with a irked look, brow raised, "Is there something you need?"

"No," Ronal hums, lips curling into a half-smile at her son's annoyed glower, "We are just glad someone has finally managed to tame you."

#💫—vampsywrites #avatar the way of water #avatar #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x metkayina!reader #ao'nung atwow #ao'nung #lo'ak #aonung x reader #aonung #ao'nung x you #ao'nung imagines

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Just thinking about how Ed is so incredibly careful with Stede. All of their kisses (that we see) are very gentle from Ed's side. Their first kiss is a little tenuous and awkward, but it's also quite tender and delicate. He doesn't grab Stede or hold him in place. He lets there be space for Stede to pull away and say no. And throughout, even as their relationship becomes more confident and they're far surer of each other's feelings, Ed's always very careful. Stede initiates the intensity in the bedroom scene, and Ed responds and increases it, but even then he's holding him like Stede's just the most precious thing in the world.

I think some of this comes from what Ed wants—he's never had tenderness with someone, he's never had someone treat him delicately, and Stede does—but it's also what he wants to do for Stede. Because he's never had someone he could hold like that. He's never had someone with whom he was safe to show his gentleness and tenderness.

The only other person we ever see Ed being truly gentle with is his mother when he was a child. And throughout the show, long before they put words to their feelings for each other, Ed treats Stede with such tender feeling, right from the moment he takes care of him when he's been stabbed.

I dunno—Ed is represented as this man who has had to be mean and hard when he really wants to be gentle, and he can be that with Stede.

#ofmd #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #ed teach #gentlebeard #also just wanted to use those gifs again #ofmd meta

[elitadream]

"Of all the plants that grow and bloom in the Kingdom, Fire Flowers have always been my favorites," said Peach, as she looked down at the lively specimen she was delicately cradling in her hands. Her eyes were soft and her voice mellow, both filled with a mysterious affection that spoke of something lovely and seemed to make her lovelier still.

Beside her, Mario let out a quiet sigh, his gaze never once leaving her face. He was listening to her every word, curious and impossibly endeared, hoping the princess somehow knew just how much he cherished her company. His love for her deepened the longer he watched her, and his smile was adoring as Peach held the flower closer.

"They are very special and dear to me; Not because of their power or their notoriety, but because of their warmth," she went on, brushing her fingers against its petals in a gentle caress. "They bring an immediate sense of comfort to those around them, and can alleviate one's sadness with their soothing glow. They are said to guide those who are lost, and lift the spirits of those who are tired. They possess tremendous fiery strength, and yet… Unless needed, they are content to simply remain as they are, idle and calm, their inner spark bringing the world a unique and precious light."

She turned to him then, and Mario froze under her stare. The expression that she wore was one of indescribable fondness, sincere and true.

"They remind me of you," she murmured, before ducking her head shyly and averting her eyes again. She was biting her lower lip, her features illuminated by candid mirth, and Mario staggered where he stood despite the grip that he had on the balcony's railing. The dull ache in his chest flared abruptly, seizing him and making it hard to breathe. He felt as through he had just been struck by lightning, his entire body thrumming like a live wire. After a moment, he managed to look away and found his voice again.

"I have seen all the treasures of this land," he rasped. "I have witnessed magic in its purest form, and have been shown wonders I could never even have dreamed of… But none will ever compare to you."

Peach let out a small gasp, her cheeks turning bright pink. They shared another glance, this one longer than the last, and Mario wished the instant could last forever. He was the first one to falter however, and he cleared his throat as his nerves got the best of him.

"I'm… happy that you have kept the flower I've given you," he muttered bashfully, stumbling a bit on the adjective.

"I will never part with it," Peach answered earnestly. She shook her head to further demonstrate her sentiment, giving him a radiant smile as she did, and Mario inwardly winced; trying to rein in his wildly beating heart.

"Sei così bellissima," he whispered waveringly, unable to help himself.

Peach blinked, her usual surprise and delight upon hearing him speak Italian veiled by a cryptic sort of contentment and tenderness this time around. She couldn't understand him, not really, but something in his tone had seemingly given his thought away regardless. And for the first time in a very long time, Mario felt strangely at ease with this notion. If he couldn't bring himself to tell her how he felt, perhaps he could trust the truth to one day reveal itself and finally be freed.

In the meantime though, he would gladly honor all that she saw in him, and continue to be exactly that. A source of warmth and comfort. A tremendous privilege for him, and one that he was more than ready to fulfill.

-

As previously mentioned, I felt like writing a little something for Valentine's Day this year, but I couldn't resist adding a drawing as an afterthought! 🥰 Just a little scene that kept coming back to my mind and which I felt was appropriate for the occasion. Enjoy!^^ 💝

#Mario #Princess Peach #Mareach #Mario x Peach #story #concept #romance #friendship #fluff #romantic feelings #mutual pining #idiots in love #oblivious dorks #otp #Super Mario Bros #fanart

[thedevilspearl]

awkward moments during sex — older brothers

a/n: was in the mood for wholesome smut with humour so here are some awkward moments that happen during sex with the older bros (younger brothers here).

tags: 1.7k words. female reader x lucifer (no warnings), mammon (mention of spanking, getting caught in the act) + leviathan (demon form!levi, double penetration, anal, levi has two dicks). minors do not interact!

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

“ah! luci—”

your moans fill the room, almost drowning out the sound of classical music hailing from lucifer’s record player. he’s completely lost in the symphonies, suffocating in the way your precious voice sings along with the violins and piano — it’s orchestrated to perfection.

enough for him to not realise that his music of choice for your intimate time is only working in favour for him.

deep groans leave his throat as he loses himself in your body — or the music. at this point, you think he’s more turned on by his favourite classical piece than your writhing body beneath him.

although, the piece of art you’re creating with your body is just as impressive. you have every bit down to the nail. the desperate cries of his name, the trembling of your limbs, the delicate arching of your back.

there’s no way he’d be able to tell you’re faking it, right?

when lucifer proposed a request to play some music during sex, you had no qualms. it actually seemed like a good idea to spice things up in the most lucifer way possible. but you learned the hard way that classical music is the biggest turn off ever.

for you, at least. lucifer seems to be enjoying it.

you’d much rather hear your own voice than the music so with every thrust, you squeal a little louder than before with hope that he would pay more attention to your high–pitched whines than the soft tinkles of piano keys.

“oh, god, lucifer! it feel so good!”

faking an orgasm with luci is the last thing you imagined yourself doing but, in all honesty, you don’t have the heart to tell him to switch off the music. he was so excited to try this; he’s having the time of his life and you play your part to make him feel even better.

he’s close, head buried in the nook of your neck pressing chaste kisses along your skin. rutting slowly, he drags his cock in and out, engraving himself on the walls of your pussy. the dark–haired man finally lifts his head, bringing his lips to yours before inspecting your face.

“mmh, don’t stop, luci…”

but that’s exactly what he does.

“mc, is something the matter?”

“hm?”

holding himself up on shaky elbows, he brushes the hair away from your face and kisses your cheek. “you sound different tonight. what is it?”

“it’s nothing, luci.”

“it’s certainly something, mc. tell me.”

you bite your lip, breathing in his scent. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him, but he seems to have figured it out already. you should have known better than to deceive the man above you, and your silence is telling.

 “are you perhaps… faking?” he asks.

“i’m sorry. i—i didn’t want you to stop.”

“mc, you should always tell me when to stop.” he chides you, but the tenderness he holds in his gaze warms you from the inside.

“i know, but… you were enjoying the music—”

“the music?”

“y—yeah,” you stutter. “i’m not really feeling the music.”

he sighs embarrassedly, dropping his head into your neck once again before chuckling. his whole body rocks against you with awkward laughter and you can’t help but join in.

“mc, you’re pleasure is far more precious to me than music. do you want to continue if i turn it off?”

you pout your lips in thought. “i think i spoiled the mood, luci.”

“nonsense,” his lips turn upwards and he places a kiss to your forehead while slipping you into his arms. “we can always cuddle, can we not?”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

the atmosphere in mammon’s room is usually quite lax — there’s very rarely a need for you to feel tense when you’re with mammon but tonight is different. laid over his lap, his large hand caresses the burning skin of your ass before giving a tight squeeze.

“mammon,” you whine with teary eyes. “please! want you so bad…”

“don’t be so needy,” he smirks and you whine louder because mammon is the last person who should be teasing you about neediness. “i’m having some quality time with your pretty ass.”

he gives your reddened cheeks another quick tap, not as harsh as the previous ones but more remiss. he loosens up a little, allowing your scent to ease his mind and you, too, relax as he massages your throbbing cheeks. you exhale deeply, with a hum escaping your lips as the white–haired demon embraces you.

mammon isn’t one to often punish your body like this but he had a stressful day and you offered for him to take his frustrations out on you. but for now, it seems his burdens are long forgotten because the dark look in his eyes is taken up by his all–familiar starved gaze, like he’s ready to pounce on you at the first sign of movement.

you move in unison; his hands fly to your hips as he scoots up the bed, resting his back on the headboard while you settle above him.

“c’mon, princess. how about ya ride my dick?” mammon suggest with a wink. his cockiness sends a current through your body, reaching every inch of you and igniting fire in you.

“i like the sound of that,” you straddle him, your warm thighs pressing onto his. lining his cock to your entrance, you trace his tip up and down your slit before pushing it through your sopping hole. “fuck…”

mammon moans into your mouth, tongues intertwining in dance you know all to well. he breathes in little gasps and hisses when you drop yourself of him little by little until his raging cock is completely enveloped in your soft, velvety warmth.

it doesn’t take long for you to find a near impossible rhythm, fucking him faster than you’ve ever done anything. you slam your hips down and bounce with all your might, face contorted with the promise of ascending to somewhere only bliss is known. “fuck, i’m so close, ma—”

“mammon! did you take my new figure again?” levi barges into the room, refusing to tear his eyes away from the device in his hand to notice you both naked. your mouth opens to scream at him when asmo enters the room not a second later.

“mc,” he sings. “i thought i’d find you in here. let’s go shopping!”

“i’m a little busy,” you say through gritted teeth, seething with annoyance as your orgasm slips from your grasp. the two brothers finally look up and register the position you and mammon are in.

you think thhis would be the end but more of the brothers enter. all the while, mammon’s cock is buried to the hilt of your pussy.

“hey, have you guys seen mc?” belphie mumbles.

“we’ve been looking for ages. oh, mc… here you are.” beel’s eyes grow wide as they rake over the sight before him.

your entire body turns hot with embarrassment, frozen from the fear of moving or else they’ll see more than what they what can.

“can you at least turn away?” you grumble, dipping your head into mammon’s shoulder, and he barks them, too.

“or maybe, you know, get the fuck out of my room!”

“that’s no way to talk to your brothers.” lucifer’s disappointed voice echoes and he freezes upon entering, seeing what he stumbled upon. the final straw is satan peeking over the shoulder of his eldest brother.

“you guys didn’t tell me there was a watching party.”

“because there isn’t!” you yell, yanking the pillows from underneath mammon and launching them at the brothers. “get out!”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

“fuck, levi,” you moan, grinding your hips over his. “your cocks are so fucking good!”

“mmh,” he hums along; he’s lost far too deeply in your body. it’s a haven for him, one filled with bliss only. one that he never wants to return from.

levi needs to think again before choosing video games over you. he’s a fool to have ever considered the former to be greater than the latter.

no, not when you can show him just how incredible this feeling is. from now on, he will never choose anything other than you, his one and only player.

the symphony of your moans and whines combined fill the room, and nothing cuts through the lustful noises until a playfully tuned ping sounds from behind you. levi stirs in his heavenly trance, but you take his lips in yours, not allowing his computer to distract him.

after all, tonight was all about giving you some well deserved time since he’s so obsessed with his video games. leaning down, you wrap your lips around his nipple, swirling circles around it and relishing in the way his body arches up into you.

his cocks twitch inside of you; you’re full to the brim in both holes and you’ve never felt so good. this degree of pleasure confounds you — there’s no way both you and levi could possibly feel so godly in this world. you're convinced you both died and went to heaven for that is the only realm such pleasure could exist in.

but you’re slowly brought back to reality again when levi’s computer chimes a second time. then a third.

“fuck!” levi jolts into an upright position. “i forgot about the raid!”

“what raid-ah!” you yelp as he jumps to his feet, arms securing you on his waist and you frustratedly wrap your legs around him, ensuring you don’t feel the loss of him inside you.

he plonks down in his gaming chair with you in his lap. wincing from your knees digging into the arm rests, you shift into a more comfortable position before realising levi’s eyes are no longer on you but on the lit up screen behind you. and his hands have left your soft skin, now clicking away on his mouse and keyboard while muttering to himself.

“seriously?! levi, you promised it would just be us tonight!”

“i’m sorry! give me five minutes and we can pick up where we left off.”

scoffing, you send him a deathly glare which goes completely unnoticed as his attention is completely and wholly on the stupid raid. his gaming addiction had proven too strong for you to compete with given that he let it interrupt sex with you. he’s a lost cause now.

“forget it,” you sigh, climbing from his lap but he hisses when the warmth from your pussy and ass escape him.

slender fingers find you immediately, gripping you so you can’t escape. he takes little to no time in placing you on his desk, the raid forgotten in an instant as he slips his cocks back inside of you with desperation.

“i’m sorry,” he groans and presses his hips flush, and your head falls back after finding a new pleasure in this position. a gasp escapes you as he shifts into his demon form and his tail slithers around your waist, locking you in place against him. “don’t go.... please.”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x female reader #obey me smut #lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me lucifer smut #mammon smut #obey me levi smut #obey me headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey me scenarios

[reallyromealone]

Title: growing

Fandom: twisted wonderland

Pairing: Lilia vanrouge x reader

Warnings: omegaverse, Omega male reader, alpha Lilia, baby malleus, married life, slight au, fluff

Notes: none

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

Lilia smiled at his mate, the Omega guarding their little egg so well in their nest "hello starlight..~" (name) let Lilia kiss his fingers before the former knight now king interlaced them "how are you fairing..?" His voice tender as (name) gently traced his fingers on the egg "he's almost ready" (name) whispered with hushed excitement and Lilia looked fondly at his mate, the dragon fae having been communicating with the egg.

"Our little malleus is already so strong~" he cooed at the newborn hatchling who snuggled into (name), still to young to be out of dragon from as he needed warmth consistently from (name) till his own flame grew within "he's very curious.." (name)s voice soft and delicate as he scratched under the dragons chin "Soon I'll teach him how to light things on FIRE" the calm Omega has a manic grin on his face and Lilia looked fondly at his mate as their son nibbled on (name)s finger, no fangs yet but that was to be expected.

Lilia never expected the firstborn Omega son to fall for him, the royal family though very active for their people were fairly reclusive in nature and the fact he rejected any and all suitors to pursue Lilia as in fae culture; omegas pursued their desired mate.

"Malleus we don't bite" (name) chastised his little pup who made a little hissing noise and stomped his front paws angrily "behave little hatchling" Lilia lifted the little dragon who looked frustrated at his tiny little legs as he made little sounds "yes yes, I know little one" Lilia was so sweet this life he helped create, he loved his precious son so much.

It wasn't till Malleus was around a year old when he could finally transform, tumbling to follow his parents around "papapapapa!" He said happily as he chased down Lilia, the king smiling at the boy who clung to his legs "my my, hello spitfire" Lilia grinned before leaning down to the boy who bonked his tiny horned head against his, apparently it was a draconic way of greeting, precious though the horns didn't feel great.

But Lilia would never complain.

"You have been getting very fast these days, soon papa won't be able to keep up~" Lilia lifted malleus into his arms and continued his walk, Malleus babbling as they walked down the endless halls.

"Let's see what your Dam is up to, yes?"

#lilia x male reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— egoist + yoichi isagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — teasing isagi is great. in fact, it's all fun and games...until his ego comes out to play.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, smut, makeout sessions, dry humping, ruined orgasms, clothed!sex, spit!kink, pro player + mean!isagi... he's very condescending not beta read ! - fem!reader.

⭑ words — 1.5K.

⭑ notes — hi !! lmao this is super last minute but i wanted to post something for isagi's bday because i'm obsessed with him !! i blacked out when writing this lmao fhbgb enjoy!! - m.list ✩

make-outs with isagi always start off soft and slow.

you’re always curled up cuddling, tucked into his side with his head atop yours and no matter what you’re doing together — he’s always overwhelmed with this sudden urge to kiss you. yoichi will dwell on it for a while, blue eyes peering down at you while you’re distracted. overthink the best way to kiss you, if you’re in the mood, if you want to be touched.

in the end you catch him staring and a smile that makes his heart race in the way that it does on the pitch breaks out across your darling features. “yoichi,” you croon knowingly, cocking your head to the side playfully. “i know you wanna kiss me.”

“yeah, precious?” a grin to rival your own tugs in the corners of his lips, isagi looking effortlessly sexy with his dark hair in his eyes and his tongue poking in his cheek while he thinks of his next move. “how’dya know?”

“you’re staring.”

“i like the way you look. s’cute.” he taunts.

you shift and face him fully, narrowing your eyes before you counter. “then why don’t you do something about it?”

“can’t,” he shoots back smugly. “you talk too much.”

“and you think too much—!”

isagi gets hot and bothered when you play cat and mouse, he can’t help but lean in and capture your lips in a soft kiss to test the waters and see how far he can push you. he puts a hand on your chin, holding your face up to his and smirks against your lips when you work your own against him. they move together, tender and curious like the gentle push and pull of a tide guided by the moon up high — but waves always crash against the shore like dopamine hitting all the right points in the striker’s brain.

you flip a switch inside of him and the lights come on in the home of his mind. it’s when your delicate fingers traverse upwards, landing on the nape of his neck to toy with the tiny black curls there. you tug on his roots and isagi goes wild, his mouth becoming feverish against yours— tongue darting out to swipe over the seam of your lips in a silent plea for more.

along the way he manages to roll you over, so you go from being by yoichi’s side to lying underneath him— trapped in a lion’s cage. there’s a hand just above your head and one working it’s way up your shirt, your eyes are hooded and darkened and isagi’s are scrambled and feral. crazy. in the same way he gets when he’s piecing himself together during a match. this happens when you don’t let him in, when you kiss him with only your lips and tease him past the point of return.

the striker pulls back, figuring you out as he pins you to his bed with strong, slender hips— his hands leaving you to run through silky black locks and to cup his chin. “what’s the matter, egoist?” you lay waiting, panting beneath isagi while you look up at him and dare him through your lashes. “thought you wanted to kiss me.”

this is where everything changes; you lose your soft, loving isagi the moment you decide to provoke the little monster inside of him. “don’t push,” he breathes, his voice thick and husky. low in the way that makes lighting strike all the way down your spine. “you know how that ends for you, precious.” he knows you better than anyone else, what makes you tick and twitch. so he grinds down against you, just above where you need him and swoops down with a ravenous mouth when your lips part to sing isagi’s praises — eyes blowing wide as he ruts his dick into your soft tummy.

his tongue glides over yours eagerly, tasting everything you have to offer him, pushing into your mouth with a domineering force. you writhe against yoichi and mewl his name between the slipperiness of your kisses— swapping spit with your noses pressed right up against each other and your breathing so ragged that you feel as though you might pass out. your mouths slot perfectly together, moving so fast that the pace of your sloppy make out is almost bruising.

“yoichi,” you sigh out when you finally get the chance to take in some air though your chest won’t stop heaving. “goin’ too fast. w-what’s the matter, pretty boy?” your attempt to get back at him is weak, bucking your hips upwards to chase the friction that your boyfriend refuses to give you.

now it’s his turn to tilt his head to the side, licking at the string of saliva that connects your lips to his. “w-what’s the matter pretty boy?” he mocks you with a calculated thrust of his hardness against you— stickiness from his tip oozing against your skin. pouting, you fight against isagi for something. anything. you need him and he’s dangling that pleasure just above your head. “what’s the matter with you, hah? so pretty, precious. so needy. you want it that bad.” he sucks his teeth, mimicking your pout the more you grow desperate, sneering evilly as you lock your eyes away to fight off the frustrated tears.

“oh no, you don’t get to do that. open those pretty eyes for me precious,” yoichi growls but touches you tender, his hand cupping the roundness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “you wanna mess around with me? fine. you wanna tease me? ‘m good with that. but you look at me. only me.” when he tells you that he means it and when you nod your head despite the whimper — agreeing to your boyfriends terms, he rewards you by shifting back and pressing the chubby outline of his dick against your molten core as his tongue laps into your mouth to swallow your moans.

then he’s sucking on your tongue, the rough pads of his fingers trickling up and down your sides, squeezing your ass and dragging you up to meet the carnivorous pace of his hips as they piston into you. you do your best to keep your eyes on him, despite the tears that pool in them, watching isagi devour you from below and his facade fall apart when his sticky tip catches on the hood of your swollen clit.

a wet patch from your naughty little pussy forms on the front of his sweat pants from just how much it drools and how much precum smears isagi smears against you. “where’s your fight precious? thought you wanted to tease me.” his limbs ache and muscles burn with desire as he works himself against you, panting into your open mouth and filling you with nothing but him. “c’mon… gimme somethin’, precious girl.”

he spits the words into your mouth, laughs as you clench around nothing and chase the delicious drag of his cock between your clothed folds. “mm… yo—!” but you can’t say anything, you can’t do anything because the way isagi talks down on you but grinds into you like he loves you is too embarrassing for you to bare. “s-stop, s’mm…it’s—“ you drawl all dreamy like, a familiar twist in your gut telling you that you’re close, that he’s pleasured you beyond what you can take and he’s not even touched you properly.

“you don’t want me to stop, baby. i know what you need,” isagi grunts as he sucks on your lower lip, takes it between rows of pearly whites and drags it away from you with a hooded stare, sapphire eyes sending you spiralling. his cock pulses against your sweltering pussy, soaks through your pants and drives you up the wall. “you want me t’get you there. you can cum like this, you’ve done it for me before…”

“i-i’ll do it again, please yoichi! ‘m…i-i’m,” you babble brainlessly, fingers finding his hair again and scratching at yoichi’s scalp the way he likes. in the way that started this whole ordeal— changing the path of your makeout from soft to sexy. “i’m close!”

all he does is grunt, shuddering under your touch, circling his hips until both of your eyes roll back. “i know precious. i know. i’ll get you there— make you c-cum, shit.”

and you’re about to burst, eyes drifting shut. you can feel it as you wrap your trembling thighs around isagi’s waist and match the way he grinds against you. your brain is muddled, dazed and fixated on his lips and the way he might sound when he shoots is load between your legs…but in an instant it all gone.

your eyes flutter open once again— revealing the monster you’ve made of yoichi isagi. his blue eyes delirious, his lips curled into a cruel smirk while your orgasm fades away and you whine out for him.

“thought i told you to keep looking at me,” he snarls wickedly, lifting his hips away from you, watching you pathetically chase the friction. “guess you don’t know how to listen, precious. that’s okay though, i’ll just have fuck you good ‘n proper... get inside you, fuck you up and make sure that i get it through your pretty little head. you only look at me.”

make-outs with isagi always start off soft and slow. but if you push the right buttons, his egoist always swoops in to fuck you right.

#bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #isagi x reader #isagi smut #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x you #isagi yoichi smut #isagi yoichi x you #bllk thirst #bllk x you #bllk imagines #blue lock x you #blue lock thirst #yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #bllk x y/n #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

[darkdevasofdestruction]

The White Rose of Jerusalem ~ King Baldwin IV x Reader

Summary: As a young girl, Y/N had the honour of marrying the King of Jerusalem, just before the healers found out of his fatal diagnosis. Though she had the choice of backing down from a fruitless marriage, she remained faithful to the young boy-King who captured her heart.

Note: I know the chance of people knowing this movie are very slim, but I was long fascinated by King Baldwin IV and re-watching this movie for the N-th time only reinforced that notion; And I’m too hyperfixated to study for exams, so I gotta do this.

Note 2: I have two endings in mind, one with a happy ending, which will be the default one, and another, with an angsty, sad one, which I will be writing under a line and a warning. :) Hope you’ll like it!

Note 3: The lyrics from the Angsty Ending come from the song ‘Luthien’s Lament’ by Eurielle, with some words alternated, to fit the story. Hope you like it, and that you will be compelled to check out her fantastic work! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4F3X5CrPn8I

She was just a little girl, not even a decade old, when she was chosen as the most fitting candidate at being the future wife of young lord Baldwin IV, the future King of Jerusalem. A beautiful lad with long locks of gold like a field of wheat shining in the summer sun, and eyes as blue as the celestial azure sky, fair skin, flawless and angelic like that of the most beloved seraphim, and a voice so soft and tender that would put anyone to ease.

Princess Y/N was so nervous - How could she possibly compare to... How could she possibly become good enough to stay around the future King of Jerusalem? Her worries were plaguing her mind so much, that she simply stared at him, with the eyes of a scared fawn, completely forgetting that she was supposed to do a pretty courtesy and speak.

But the boy could see your pretty face as pink as a lovely flower in bloom, from something as silly as nervousness around him; He chivalrously offered his hand for her to take, and he guided her away from the wave of adults they were surrounded by, and outside, to the lush gardens of Jerusalem where there was nobody to bother them. He hummed idly and scanned the place, before abruptly stopping in from of a bush, and cut a single white rose, which he de-thorned and put in her hair. “There, a beautiful flower, for a beautiful lady.” she couldn’t help but cast her eyes down, unable to meet his. “You see, out of all the flowers in the world, I think a white rose fits you best.” he smiled down at her. “Do you know their meaning, My Lady?” Y/N began biting on her bottom lip, whilst her fingers were anxiously fidgeting and picking at one another. “Forgive me for my rudeness, Your Majesty. I did not mean to disrespect you with my silence and awful behaviour.” The young lad tilted his head to the side in confusion, before reaching out to her hands, holding them dearly. “You have not offended me, My Lady. Still, I would like to request you not to harm such beautiful hands. I have never felt anything as delicate as them, not even flower petals.” her timidness was adorable, he noted. “You need naught feel uncomfortable around me, nor abide to such formalities. I would like for you to speak freely - You are soon to be my lovely wife, and I wish for you to become my confidante.” Baldwin could feel her hands tightening their grip slightly on his own. “I am asking again, whether or not you know the symbolism of white roses -- May I call you by your name? I wish for you to do the same in return.” “Y-Yes, of course, Your Majesty, you may call me as you wish.” the boy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Baldwin. My name is Baldwin. Do call me that.” the alarmed look in those gorgeous eyes of hers, that resembled the most precious gems, only made him realise the overly strict upbringing that she had, so afraid to step the wrong way, or do any kind of misdeed, in fear of being punished, or quite possibly, bringing about Armageddon. “I-I could never show such disrespect to the future King of Jerusalem!” the boy let out an amused exhale, before gently raising her chin up to have her look at him. “Y/N. We are going to be married. For you, I will not be the King. I will be your Husband. If the two of us do not trust each other whole-heartedly, then who else can we trust?” Baldwin finally felt a little satisfaction once she finally dared meet his sight, only for her to bow to him deeply, which once again, confused him. “I wish I will one day end up being a person that you can rely on... Baldwin.” the childish smile of glee that the boy held made her heart leap. “I do not know much, but I wish to learn everything. I was limited in everything I was taught, in detriment of becoming the perfect wife and mother, fit for the King of Jerusalem, so much so that I forgot that I am allowed to live for myself.” “Then I will teach you how to live.”

Though she continued to be as shy as ever, barely capable of speaking up, especially to adults, Baldwin was graced with the most dazzling smiles from the young beauty, whom he’d teasingly call ‘My Wife’ with every chance he got. They were so adorable together, and so very in love with each other, that his elder sister, Sibylla, although jealous of their happiness, would often declare them as ultimate soulmates. They were glued to each other.

It was Baldwin who encouraged her to approach the horses and tend for them, and it was his instructors who taught her how to ride, so that they could ride together whenever they wanted to have some fun, by themselves; The young Price could see the remarkable bond she had made with all of the horses she took care of - Only the most gentle person could create such a connection with a sensitive animal like that.

They would write and recite love poems for each other, though the boy was much bolder than her, and would have to read her love confessions himself. In spite of that, she was content with singing for him, which would, in turn, urge him to ask her for a dance, outside, in the gentle moonlight.

Though he wasn’t one for painting, he loved all of the flowers that Y/N would paint for him - She only ever liked drawing flowers of all kinds, and pretty landscapes; And he would hang around all of her most precious masterpieces in his own bedroom.

They were doing everything together, to the point that Sibylla felt a little lonely, but Baldwin became even more enamoured with Y/N during one evening, when he was pondering over a chess puzzle made by one of his instructors; And there she came in, like Virgin Mary herself, brightening up his dimly lit room. She towered for a few seconds over the chess board, and moved a single piece before flicking over the enemy King piece. Baldwin looked up at her, then back at the board, and up again in complete disbelief - Such an easy solution, yet he kept overcomplicating a thousand useless and difficult ideas, only to end up with no outcome except for his own ultimate failure.

The boy shot up to his feet and engulfed his lady in his arms with so much love, kissing both of her cheeks. “You are a fantastic strategist, my rose! You are going to be my most treasured advisor!” “Oh, I could never - I just moved a piece, nothing that great!” but the boy shook his head vigorously.  “Nonsense! I’ve been losing nights over this, and I couldn’t figure it out! If it weren’t for your insight, I would have continued to agonise over it.” he explained tenderly. “Even the wisest of kings need new opinions and views.” “Then, I hope I will continue inspiring you in the future also, and that you will see me as worthy of staying by your side.” the boy could see small tears gleaming in her eyes, though she held the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. “I wish for nothing more than to see you succeed and be known in history as the best King that Jerusalem ever had.” with a burst of boldness, she embraced her fiance tightly, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you.” “Generations forward will be hearing of the wisest and most supportive Queen of Jerusalem, the one who equally reigned alongside her King; the one so kind and caring that all our people will look up to her.” he smiled tenderly, his hand caressing her soft locks. “Just like the purest white rose, so innocent and beautiful, wise, enlightening, intelligent, inspiring of hope, compassion, peace, humility, understanding, tranquility.” cupping her face, he tilted her head so that he could touch his forehead to her own. “And representing of an eternal love, genuine and unbreakable.” his voice was so soft, so loving. “I love you.”

But this love was soon going to be put to test on one day, when the young prince was outside, playing around with other noble boys, while Y/N was making flower crowns and embroidering with the girls. The boys would pinch each other, and rough each other up, scratch and slap their arms; They made so much noise, crying out, whining, whimpering and yelling from paint, but it was Baldwin alone who uttered no sound, and remained as quiet as the lake.

“My love, you are bleeding!” Y/N rushed to his side, stopping his friends from continuing to play around.  “Oh, is that so? I have not noticed.” he looked down at his arm, examining all the marks left on his skin, and although they looked painful, he could barely feel anything more than a simple pressure. He could barely even feel her touch. “Have not noticed?! Your whole arm is in awful shape!” the girl shook her head in worry before turning around to look for any of his mentors. “Lord Godfrey! Lord Godfrey, please do come over!” once the man stepped in front of them, Y/N explained what happened - From the concerned look that the adult tried to conceal from them, the girl realised he suspected something with a grim epilogue.

The young prince was treated by the royal physicians the whole day, while Y/N remained alone in his room, pacing around aimlessly and agonising over the truth being concealed from her, yet after many hours, when the Moon took over the skies, and the stars were twinkling the brightest, Baldwin was returned to his bedroom. As Y/N tried to run over and engulf him in her arms, she was stopped by Lord Godfrey. “Princess, I know that you cherish the Prince dearly, but I bare terrible news. His Majesty is being suspected of a disease called leprosy. It would be unwise for you to keep in direct close contact, as you would be at high risk of also getting this curse.” Y/N looked up at the adult with tears rapidly streaming down her face. “It’s alright, my dear rose. I value your health and life above all else. If being apart will ensure your safety, then I am content.” “Don’t you dare say such blasphemy!” it was the first time Y/N ever raised her voice above that sweet, comforting mutter of hers. “Am I not your wife? Your soulmate? Your confidante?” she asked in disbelief. “I have promised I will be staying by your side, until the end of times - The amount of years matters little - But there is no life worth living if you are not in it. I would much rather live a short life, and be able to support you for as long as God may keep you on this Earth, than live a long life, cursed with not being able to see you again.” Even a hardened Lord like Godfrey could feel his heart trembling with emotion at the loving confession from the young lady, who fell to the ground and hugged the boy’s legs. “Please, my love, do not drive me away from you, unless you grow to hate me, and should I ever be so awful that I may make you despise me so, then may God strike me down where I stand, for I could not bare to be torn apart from you.” “Y/N, my love, please, never kneel before me. Out of all the people that I may be reigning over, you alone, shall never kneel.” Baldwin had to gulp down his emotions, though he felt light-headed from such a bold and heart-wrenching confession, and he helped her get up. “I do not want to give you this wretched curse, but I would be a liar if I were to say I were not selfish, for I want to hold you in my arms forever, just as before.”

The realisation that half of his right arm and the hand were completely numb completely shattered his father’s heart, and he had the best physicians, maesters, priests and what not to treat him with oils, ointments, poultices and even charms, yet nothing worked. Though Baldwin had quickly gotten used to the idea, Y/N continued being in denial, and took over most of the physicians’ work, entirely, from then on. She was his wife, and she wanted to take care of him for as long as they had together; She simply loved him so much, and this disease was killing her, more than it did him. Such an intimate thing, touching his skin, cleaning it with herbs and oils every morning, lunch and night before sleep, and she would wash his feet and hands, just like Jesus did to all of his apostles in the Bible. Baldwin felt himself wanting to cry - The love of his life shouldn’t feel compelled to take care of him like that; That’s what servants and healers were for; Yet all the same, he felt so grateful for having someone who loves him so much...

But with so much love, comes the uncertainty of the future, and when he stops being the beautiful Prince that he is now, and becomes blind, disfigured, and loses feeling in all his limbs, will she remain by his side? His heart will never stop loving her, and although the selfless part of him hopes that she would run away and find someone better, some handsome knight or lord to take care of her, someone healthy and with many decades ahead of him... He was still human, and he was selfish. He wanted those few years he has ahead of him to have her by his side, until he does not open his eyes to see the daylight again.

Years passed and tragedy struck Baldwin and Sibylla, once their father died and the young boy of thirteen had to be crowned. A mere boy of thirteen, forced to become the ultimate leader of God’s Kingdom of Heaven, with Raymond, count of Tripoli’s help through his regency, and the unshakable support of his wife.

Baldwin and Y/N stood straight and tall, with the grace and elegance befitting the King and Queen of Jerusalem, though the pressure was weighting heavy on their shoulders, and the lives of so many people, and their Holy Land, were in their hands. The archbishop stepped behind Baldwin and did a cross-motion over his forehead and said a prayer, before putting the crown over his head. “Behold, your rightful King and heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Long live the King, in prosperity!” people chanted ‘Long live the King!’, though it felt more like mocking, given his condition - Granted, the people were unaware of his leprosy, save for the physicians and the closer advisors - They had to be kept in the dark, at least until his coronation... What will happen further, was a mystery. The crowned Baldwin took the other crown from the pillow and stepped next to his beautiful wife, dressed so formally, with such grace and etherealness, that she looked akin to an angel. “I, Baldwin IV, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, choose Y/N L/N, the woman to be my wife, and with the help of God, she will rule her people with the same love and kindness as always, and continue supporting me wisely. Long live the Queen, in prosperity!” as the King placed the crown over her head, the people chanted ‘Long live the Queen!’ again and again, awaiting for their King to sit on the throne and be given the scepter and  globus cruciger, whilst the Queen was standing up next to him.

That evening, Baldwin and Y/N were finally allowed to formally spend the night in the same room, without earning scrutiny from the religious people around, who were bound to gossip senselessly. Wearing their sleeping clothes, the King was laying on his side on the bed, watching his Queen embroider a handkerchief, with his name written with golden thread. “Are you happy, Y/N?” the boy asked, suddenly. “I am happy that you have not forced me to abandon you. But I am not happy, knowing that your disease is disallowing you to live a normal life.” she answered with such ease, that it sent a shiver down his spine. “You are supposed to answer personally, not with tying your answer to someone else.” Y/N shifted her gaze upwards, a cheeky side-smile gracing her beautiful features. “And what if my happiness is tied to this certain ‘someone else’, as you like to call yourself?” she challenged him playfully. “Then, I would call you a fool in love.” he chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. “And I would be guilty of the same charade.” “There is no room for guilt in love, my darling. Though duty is the death of love, I am allowed to make my own choices - This liberty, it was you who had given it to me, and for that, I will be eternally grateful.” she explained, placing the handkerchief on the table, before stepping by the bed and kneeling, leaning on the edge, their faces so close to one another. “You could have gone home with your parents, yet you chose to disobey them, and remained the wife of a leper, willingly. That was a silly choice. I am going to make you the youngest widow in history.” he spoke bitterly, and though his hand reached out to cradle her cheek, it ultimately fell down on the sheets, afraid to directly touch her skin, in fear of passing the illness. “And I will regret only not having met you sooner, and the cruelty of God, for taking his most beloved human so soon into his Eden.” Y/N took his hand and kissed his fingers, before placing his palm on her cheek. “But loving you, is something that I would do over and over again, if given the chance.” “I do not deserve you, my sweet rose.” he felt himself breathless, every time he heard her speak such tender words addressed to him. “Remember what you told me, so many years ago, to encourage me to live for myself?” he only wished he could feel her soft touch playing with his fingers so dearly. “Howsoever you are played, or by whom, your soul is in your keeping alone.” she cited him so perfectly, word by word, that is genuinely surprised him, after over 5 years, that she remembered his advice. “Even though those who presume to play you be Kings or men of power, when you stand before God, you cannot say - But I was told by others to do thus - Or that virtue - Was not convenient at the time -. This will not suffice.” “To think that so many years would come to pass, and you still continue to surprise me.” though he wanted to chuckle, this body froze entirely once Y/N climbed in bed next to him. “Y/N -- If you contract this curse because of me, I would never forgive myself.” “The Saracens say this disease is God’s vengeance against the vanity of our Kingdom. As wretched as lepers are, the Arabs believe that the chastisement that awaits you all is going to be far more severe and lasting, once you are thrown in hell. If that is true, I call it unfair, and that God is nothing but a farce, and life, a cruel joke.” she snorted unceremoniously, before laying down and cradling his body flush against her own, his head resting comfortably on her chest, and she was soothingly playing with his hair, lulling him to sleep. “To hell with anyone who can consider you anything less than an angel, for you are the kindest man I have ever met, and Jerusalem is lucky to be under your rule. The way I see it, God must have thought you so worthy of joining the highest angelic ranks, that he was unaware of a faster way of taking you to his side. It is, after all, the prettiest of flowers that we are quick to pick first and show-off to others, before they wilt in our hands, and we throw them away.” “I am truly honoured to have someone like you hold such sincere feelings for me, and speak only superlative words regarding me. I feel better, knowing that you do not think me lesser, or unworthy, in spite of this misfortune.” though his limbs were gradually getting numb, he could feel ever part of her body touching his own. “Y/N.” he called out her name, cuddling into her, like a cute kitten seeking comfort and warmth. “I am happy.” he was deathly afraid that he could somehow transfer the disease to her, but in that second, his senses were drowning in her love. “You make me happy.”

But the boy at three and ten winters, barely crowned and orphaned, had not expected to grow into the respectable young King that he became by the time he reached sixteen years of age, though by now, the entirety of Jerusalem was calling him the Leper King - They found out the inevitable truth of his condition, and despite the wretched ostracizing that all of those commonfolk cursed with this skin disease, he was able to show that a noble, wise, kind and strategic King and deserved all the respect of the world.

The young King had all of his advisors around him, telling him of all the risks, the cons and pros of going to war against the powerful leader Salah al-Din; They were greatly outnumbered, but if they weren’t going to war, the odd were high that Jerusalem would fall to the Muslims. Sitting on the throne, Baldwin felt himself unconsciously raising his hand to his forehead, feeling a migraine creeping, from the overwhelming amount of shouting and unnecessary bickering and arguing between each notable knight, commander and representative of each army under the command of the King of Jerusalem. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, nor did he bother - At the end of the day, men were going to continue being men, and they will continue trying to dominate and overpower each other.  At some point during that abysmal meeting, he noticed the frown on his Queen’s face, clearly irritated that the adults were creating more problems than offering good advice for him, and she could barely keep herself under control not to jolt up to her feet at yell at them to stop behaving like petulant children. Alas, neither of their Royal Majesties were known to raise their voice or even get angry at their subjects; After all, it would be beneath them to stoop so low, when virtue was everything they were supposed to embody.

By the time they returned to their shared chamber, Y/N sighed dramatically, complaining about the unbecomingness of those nasty advisors, whilst Baldwin couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction. His sweet rose truly was adorable in everything she did. Instead of laying on the bed, the young lad sat in front of his chess board and stared intently at the pieces laid in wait to begin a game. Suddenly, a brilliant idea knocked him into a new sense of giddiness. “My sweetling, would you be willing to brighten my day by engaging in a game of chess with me? I cannot think of anything better that could relax me after such unnecessary stress.” His wife smiled at him with that loving tenderness, as she sat opposite of him and urged him to begin the game by moving his piece first. Baldwin carefully moved each of his pieces so that he would create the ultimate strategy, not only for his own side, but manipulate the girl’s pieces into well thought-out spots. In the end, it was Y/N who won the game, but it was him who started cheerfully laughing in triumph. “Never once have I seen a man so happy to lose a game.” Y/N smiled lightly. “What have you concocted, you little weasel?” “The game we just played, my love, contained my strategy for the upcoming war with Salah al-Din, with my side being the Muslims, and yours, Jerusalem.” he exclaimed with glee, getting up from the table. “Jerusalem will prevail once again!” “How cunning of you! Never once during this game have I thought you would be manipulating me into playing my pieces the way you wanted me to. You are wise and intelligent beyond your years, my love.” she praised him, stepping in front of him, and gently placing her hands over his face. She could see the way his disease was rapidly and heavily affecting him, and that once angelic face of his was now scarred and ulcerated beyond anything that the physicians resoluted or predicted. He had to learn how to guide his horse with his knees, instead of the tugging of the reins, as he lost feeling in his right arm completely, and the disease was quickly afflicting the skin of his other limbs also. “And neither will the Muslims, my sweet rose. They will be unable to retaliate, and will have to retreat back to Cairo.” despite all of the scars, and the way his golden hair was beginning to fall out and lessen, that adorable, boyish smile of his remained as charming as ever, and his crystal eyes were just as bewitching. “Will you please allow me to follow you in this crusade?” Baldwin was tempted, as her enchanting fawn eyes were his biggest weakness; His ration and wish to protect her was above even that, however. “I dearly wish to never be apart from you, but my love, you are the Queen of Jerusalem, and with me gone, there will be no one that I trust to rule the Kingdom. I need you here to rule over our people and keep them safe.” Y/N simply sighed and rested her head on his chest, her arms gently around his body. “As always, you are right, of course - If only that you weren’t! How many sleepless nights of worry will I endure, and nightmares shall plague me, until I receive good news from a dove, and am allowed to rejoice your victorious arrival?” the King chuckled softly, resting his chin on the top of her head, reciprocating her embrace. “How dramatic, yet poetic - I am honoured that you worry so much about me, but you needn’t, that is my oath to you. With your aid, my strategy will prevail, and with God’s providence, I have the courage to mount my horse and lead our people to victory.”

And true to his affirmation, the young King rode valiantly into battle, at Montgisard, and just as the strategy dictated, they gave the Muslims a run for their money, returning to Cairo very much defeated, and barely with a tenth of the initial army. Christianity had prevailed once again, and God had not turned his back on them yet.

“You should have seen me, my love, with the Holy Cross shining brightly with the light of Heaven, leading our army to victory! It was such a fantastic win, that I felt powerful as never before! I felt truly blessed and empowered - Like I will be walking the sacred lands for a whole century, and fighting for our faith!” the young King was laying his head in her lap, as she played with his golden locks; Whenever hair would freely fall off in her grasp, she would quickly throw it away, so that her husband wouldn’t have to see the way his beauty was being forcefully taken away from him by the cruel claws of Death. “If all the most beloved Kings were to live for centuries, our world would be a better place. You, especially, deserve to live for many, many hundreds of years, a prodigy above all else, and loved like no other before you.” his grin couldn’t be wiped from that pretty face of his. “Ah, if only that were true, my darling!” he exclaimed. “Now, I only wish to settle my sister with a new husband, deserving of her. With the death of William de Montferrat, and the birth of my little nephew... Sibylla is all alone, and named the heir to the throne once I am no longer.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have to take her with me on public affairs, so that the people would get used to her being the next ruler - But she is so against everything I try to do for her.” “Sibylla is still young and very beautiful, my darling, there is no need to worry over her future husband. I know time might not be on our side, but it is on hers. She will be fine, I assure you.” she leaned down to place a small kiss on his forehead. “I only pray that you are right, my dear. I love my sister dearly, and I only wish her the best.”

That wish, however, was never going to become reality, as come 1180, an adventurer under the name of Guy de Lusignan found his way in the Holy Land, and seduced Sibylla into marrying him. Baldwin was angry as never before, and even threatened to hang him for daring to debauch the Princess of Jerusalem, yet the tears of his sister and mother were enough to break his resolve and agree to this marriage out of love. That was the first mistake he did, and one that could never be rectified. Guy was a man that earned the scrutiny of the whole realm faster than any man before, and became the most despised being in the country, by all, except for his wife.

By this time, the King was turning twenty years of age, yet he knew he wouldn’t reach to see his age change its prefix again. His condition had gotten so severe that he completely lost feeling in his limbs, and he wasn’t allowed to travel. Not only that, but the skin ulcerations were so drastic, and his face was so disfigured, that he had the blacksmith forge a silver mask for him to wear at all times, and his body was bandaged in its entirety, and robed in white, covering himself whole. It was only his wife, Queen Y/N, that was allowed to gaze upon him, as she continued the ritual of bathing his sores and treating them.

Every day of his life, King Baldwin was happy that he hadn’t given his most darling white rose this accursed disease; Likewise, every day of her life, Y/N continued to pray to God that he may spare her beloved husband and cure that curse that afflicted his body and health - He was a worthy King, and most capable; one the likes that Jerusalem had never witnessed before - Surely, he deserved a blessing!

God, however, did not discriminate when it came to life-taking and misfortune. Be it King or peasant, Lord or fisherman, all had the chance to get sick and die before their time, no matter their worth, faith or the amount of good deeds done whilst roaming the earth.

The stress and all the incompetent people that advised him were none the wiser, and they only dug him an early grave, with all their arguing. Not only that, but Sibylla continued to deny her brother’s wish of divorcing that good for nothing scoundrel - The whole Jerusalem was against him and his lack of sense - Were he to become King, he would destroy the Kingdom of Heaven in a day. She was a fool in a love, but not like himself and Y/N. The Queen was right - Duty is the death of love, but the reverse was also available. Were Sibylla a simple woman, a merchant, or simply a living being without any responsibilities on her shoulder, her devotion would have been most applaudable - But she was the heir to the throne, and she had duties to the realm, she couldn’t afford to be so foolish and cling onto a man that would lead not only to her destruction, but to the whole realm falling into ruin!

By the time King Baldwin turned a most exhausting age of merely three and twenty springs, he was beginning to turn blind, as his eyes were incapable of shutting, and his corneas were burning and stinging him so excruciatingly painful, yet there was nothing he could do in that regard. Despite barely being able to walk around anymore, he had to deal with the consequences of that single mistake of allowing Sibylla to marry that incompetent Guy, who not only broke the pact that Jerusalem had with the Muslim by attacking one of their caravan and killing all of the people there, but he also dared massacre Salah al-Din’s own sister. How can his sister not see that this man was only going to bring ruination to their home? How can she continue devoting her life and affections to such a monster of a man, good for nothing and hated by all, whose head is set only on carnage and bloodshed, under the pretext of spreading the Faith and Word of God over the heathens that tried to obliterate them and convert them?

Thus, King Baldwin stood slumped in his throne glued next to the Queen’s; She gently held his hand, their fingers intertwined; He loved the visual of their hands being so intimately together, before all to bare witness at their pure and sincere love that transcended even leprosy and scrutiny, yet at the same time, he hated how he could not feel her hand, and that his own was bandaged over like a mummy.

“Guy de Lusignan and Reynald de Chatillon, with the Templars, have attacked a Saracen caravan.” just as always, the crowd of knights began fighting each other like a bunch of babbling baboons, until some person of authority yelled at them to keep silent.  “It was no caravan. It was an army headed for Bethlehem to desecrate our Lord’s birthplace.” Guy justified his immoral actions under the guise of protecting the Faith. “Reynald, with the Templars, have broken the King’s pledge of peace. Salah al-Din will come into this kingdom -- “ the Count of Tripoli was promptly cut off by the daring fool. Oh, how Baldwin wanted to let go of his reign and live the remaining days of his life in peace, alone with his wife - Yet knowing the Kingdom would fall into this monster’s hands, he could not, in good faith, abandon his people, nor could he see his Holy Land destroyed before his very eyes. “Tiberias knows more than a Christian about Salah al-Din’s intentions.” Guy got up to his feet, walking to the count, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate the old and seasoned Lord. “That I would rather live with men, than kill them... Is certainly why you are alive.” the knight sneered discreetly at him. “That sort of Christianity has its uses, I suppose.” the King and Queen shared a look of annoyance. “We must NOT go to war with Salah al-Din!” Tiberias exclaimed. “We do NOT want it, and we may not win it.” he was the single voice of reason left in that sea of idiots who cried out ‘Blasphemy!’ like a flock of sheep.  “An army of Jesus Christ which bears his Holy Cross cannot be beaten!” some Templar spoke with unbacked confidence. “Does Tiberias suggest it could be?” the scarred man remained silent, looking with disgust at the rest of the knights. “There MUST be war! God wills it!” those idiots were using God’s name as a means to bloodshed. The Queen could stand this complete disarray no longer, and though she missed the moment a servant brought the King a message to read, she shot up to her feet, and shouted at them the people for the first time in her life - Great was everyone’s surprise, especially Baldwin’s, to bare witness of something different than her otherwise honeyed and soft voice that soothed one’s worries. “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.” she recited a line from the Exodus 20:7. “Are you suggesting we are using the name of God with unclean intentions?” Guy looked up with defiance at the woman, whose elegant and royal aura turned cold and stern, like a strict ruler. “I am your Queen, and you will address me as such.” she harshly snapped at him. “You, who are worth less than a worm, and held in no one’s graces, dare create such disorder in the presence of the King of Jerusalem. The disrespect you have shown is punishable by death.” she stepped towards him, head held high, dignified. “To think that all of you will be listening to the poisoned tongue of this viper; That you would summon God’s name, to commit bloodshed - Have you forgotten the Ten Commandments? Thou shalt not kill, it was written on the stone tablet given to Moses - Yet all of you are thirsty for war - Not out of Faith, but out of boredom. You listen to this warmonger who knows naught of diplomacy, of tactics and strategy - Lest of all, of the good of the people of the Holy Lands.” the crowd of knights could feel their blood freezing in their veins from such a scolding. “All of this, in front of the King! Such rudeness should be the cause of you yelling out Blasphemy! Not evident caution and refusal to go to war against an army that is outnumbering our own greatly!” “You talk much, but say very little... My Queen.” Guy taunted the Queen with blatant disrespect. “What would a woman know of war, when all she knows is to was to sored feet of a man that may not seen the world outside of these Holy walls in so long? You call me lesser, yet when the King is no more, neither will your title remain. We are the same - Lucky to have been chosen, yet worthy all the same.” “How wrong you are - For at the end of the day, marriage or not, I will continue being a Princess, yet you will be nothing more than the fourth son, good for nothing, landless and with no title - And most of all, a sinner.” the Queen drew the sword from Tiberias’s scabbard, pointing it at Guy. “Kneel before your Queen.” his eyes widened in shock at such an order. “Are you going to ignore a direct order from your Queen?” Guy’s head snapped towards the King, who waved his hand at the man, as to follow the order. “The Queen’s command is absolute.” Baldwin nodded his head briefly at the buffoon who dared disrespect his wife, not only in front of him, but in front of the whole court. He was glad that someone was putting that idiot to respect, however, he hated that his wife had to step over her kindness and get angry, for his sake. Begrudgingly, Guy knelt down, though he glared at the Queen with those scorned, dark eyes. In a swift move, the woman swung the heavy sword with such ease, ready to behead the man - Only to stop, right as she touched his neck, careful not to injure him. Sibylla was quick to shout at her to have mercy and spare him - That she loves him, and what not. She was ignored. “Do not mistake my past kindness and mercy, for weakness. I may be benevolent, but I do not tolerate disrespect addressed to me, to God, and especially to the King.” she returned the sword to Tiberias, who nodded at her in acknowledgement and approval. “That your head is not rolling to the ground for children to play is my final act of mercy and acceptance towards you. You disrespect the King, your disrespect Jerusalem. Trust me when I say it, Guy - I always mean what I say.” she returned to her seat next to the King, who handed her the message to read. The look on her face said it all - She was both concerned and terrified, not for her life, but for his own. “Salah al-Din has crossed the Jordan with 200,000 men.” the King spoke out once ultimate silence reigned over them all. “He’ll make for Kerak and Reynald de Chatillon. My Lord...” TIberias was the first to speak, walking over to Baldwin in an attempt to help him stand up. The King gestured him to stop, and subtly shook his head, as a way to show he was still capable of at least getting up from the throne. “We must meet him before he reaches Kerak.” the King whispered in his advisor’s ear. “I will lead the army.” “My Lord... If you travel, you’ll die.” the Count of Tripoli voiced the Queen’s concerns. “Send word to Balian to protect the Queen and the villagers.” the King addressed the crowd then. “Assemble the army.” came his resolute order that earned a chant of happy cheers from the knights.

The King did not wait to consult with the Queen - Instead, he went into his room to rest, for on the morrow, he would be marching towards Kerak to create some kind of temporary peace treaty with the Muslim leader. Y/N shared a look with Tiberias. Fear was welling deep into her eyes - She was terrified. The nightmares that kept plaguing her every night were coming to fruition much faster than anticipated. Her husband was going to die. “Tiberias... I know you care for the King as much as I do. Though we both know his mind will not be swayed... Please, do try to keep him away from this journey.” her voice became a weakened whisper. “I cannot bare the thought of losing him so soon.”

Tiberias could feel his heart impaled, yet he was unable to utter a single word. He placed his hand on her shoulder, as if to show they share a similar kind of pain, and he hung his head. Y/N went to their shared room, and seeing her husband sitting on the chair, by the chess board, she fell to the ground, hugging his feet and placing her head on his lap as she wept. “Please change your mind, my love! Do not go to your death, not so soon! You are so young, still so strong -- I cannot... I cannot imagine living without you.” Baldwin sighed, his eyes stinging, yet feeling a little relief from the forming tears that were wetting his dry eyes, and his bandaged hand was placed numbly over her cascading hair, petting it. “Forgive me, my sweet rose.” he spoke with a shaky voice. “I did say I was going to turn you into the youngest widow, yet I did not imagine my condition would hinder me from even reaching thirty years of age.” even his body was softly trembling, in tune with her pitiful sobs. “Forgive me for breaking your loving heart. I was not the husband that you deserved. I was unable to bring you happiness, nor pleasure, nor was I capable of creating a family with you. God had forbidden me from even touching your body, in fear of transferring this curse upon you... He had denied me the feeling of your delicate skin, and a normal life span spent by your side.” “Do not say that!” she exclaimed, raising her head. “You have been more than I ever deserved. You have been more than I could ever dream of, even. I never desired for anything in life, except to see you alive, every time I woke up, and to feel you heart lul me to sleep, as you held me so dearly in your arms. For as long as I could hear your tender voice... Just knowing you were alive... It was all that I ever needed.” she reached her hands up to his face, taking off his mask and revealing the horrific, disfigured visage of the one seraphic boy. “If I could, I would trade all of my tomorrows, just to spend another night with you. I would trade all of my days, so that you could keep on living on, for as long as I would have. I would take the disease upon me, just to rid you of this curse. I would accept even being purged by the divine fires of retribution, if it gave you your health back.” her sight was blurred with the amount of tears hindering her and rivering down her face. “But to hell with God, and with the Faith, and with everything there is! Why must a good man endure misfortune after misfortune, and die young, whilst incompetent, evil bastards like Guy keep on living and thriving so frivolously?! I prayed day in and day out, and I have devoted all of my being to God, but instead of returning your health, he is taking you away from me even faster!” she wailed so pitifully, that Baldwin felt his entire being shattering before her anguish. “What kind of sin have I committed, that I cursed the love of my life as such a tender age, just a little after I have met him?” “You couldn’t possibly think to blame yourself for my disease.” he scolded her in complete disbelief. “Y/N, my love, never think that way.” he placed his hands on her elbows, urging her to raise, only to guide her to sit on his lap. Her slight panic was quickly shushed with a reassurance. “I am ill, not made of glass. If anything, this proximity could only serve to energize me.” Y/N gently held his hands and took off the bandages, revealing the severe ulcerations, the leathery skin and the open sores, red and painful, were it not for the numbness. She kissed his fingers lovingly, before placing his palms over her face. “Were I a mighty Phoenix, I would be able to heal all of your wounds, with the amount of tears I have shed. I would be able to fly into battle by your side and spit fire over our enemies, but also thrill a song of bravery and victory to embolden our army.” she took a ragged breath, stammering over her words. “But I am just a woman, powerless, and foolishly in love with one man, who is dying before her very eyes, and can do nothing but live in fear that he may take his last breath when she is not around him.” “You always did leave me speechless with your love confessions - And that is no easy feat, my sweet white rose. To say that I love you, is an overstatement... Yet God may strike me when I say... I do not love even He, the way that I love you. My only regret is that I was not able to even kiss you, when I was still young and handsome, fitting of a young King. I wish only to make you the happiest... If only life was not so cruel with us.” Y/N leaned down slowly, placing her lips over his own, completely uncaring of her malformed mouth, or the possibility of catching the disease herself. She wasn’t planning on living longer, if he wasn’t going to be alive and hold her hand any longer. “A silly woman, foolishly in love with a silly man, just as foolishly in love with her.” he muttered, gazing at how beautiful she was, even with eyes puffy and sparkling with tears, and skin twinkling wet. 

The King guided his Queen to the bed and cradled her into his arms to cry as much as hear dear heart needed, all whilst playing with her hair, as much as his useless fingers allowed him to, and whispered a string of endless sweet nothings, though he was aware, no word of love was going to sooth or mend her shattered heart, and the fact that his lack of days were the cause of it was a bittersweet knowledge.

On the morrow, the King nodded at Tiberias, placing his hand gently over his horse’s snout to urge it to kneel so that he could mount it and ride towards Kerak, where he would face Salah al-Din and propose a truce. The journey was long and arduous, lasting a whole week on horseback, yet he rose tirelessly, and slept like a baby in the tent, every night. There were no physicians by his side, nor his Queen, to wash and treat his skin damage - But it was fine, he wasn’t going to live long anyway, so it mattered little.

After seven long days, they reached Kerak, the stronghold of Reynald the Idiot, and with the King of Jerusalem in front and the shining-white Holy Cross that brightened up the battleground, the King, dressed the part, rode and faced the leader of the Muslims. 

The two king met, face to face, horse to horse - One, the Splendor of Christianity, dressed in full white, yet with a silver mask and the light-blue tabard of Jerusalem, and his horse was the same, white and pure, as was his virtue and soul. The other was dressed in black, and his horse was black also, to represent his own faith and leadership to his people, but also, his humbleness. The two stared each other in the eyes, siesing each other but, yet it was Salah al-Din who spoke first. “I pray you pull back your cavalry and leave this matter to me.” “I pray you retire unharmed to Damascus.” the King replied, his eyes seemingly unblinking behind his silver mask, adorned with crosses and swirls, to represent his Faith and Love of God. “Reynald de Chatillon will be punished. I swear it.” the man vowed, speaking in a soft, yet firm tone. “Withdraw, or we will all die here.” the two’s silence, as they stared each other up, was this time interrupted by the Christian King. “Do we have terms?” The Muslim leader only had one fear, and that was of the Leper King, who so easily bested him at merely 16 years of age, and heavily outnumbered; Now, older, yet with a frailer constitution, even the ghost of him could send a shiver down his spine; A rival worthy of his respect. “We have terms.” he nodded at him. “I will send you my physicians.” he humbly offered, wishing his rival to remain alive and healthy, for as long as he may. “As-salamu alaykum.” he King of Jerusalem tilted his head down and bowed his hand as a sign of respect, wishing him and his people peace. “Wa alaykumu s-salam.” Salah al-Din rose his hand and replied with the same respect, wishing him the same.

The two leaders of their faith turned their horses around, and Sibylla watched from the safe fortress, as her brother was victorious in avoiding an all-right war, and rode towards the stronghold of Reynald, who quickly ran, disheveled, to greet the King, who gracefully rode before him, and commanded his horse to kneel, so that he may dismount. Reynald offered a courtesy, as the King stumbled in front of him, whipping out a wand from his waist. “On your knees.” he ordered, with such disgust as no one has ever heard him before. Reynald did as instructed without hesitance. “Lower.” he had to be deeply punished for all of his thoughtless actions that served to ruin everything he worked so hard to build for his people. In an exhausted breath, yet still as kingly, he spoke “I am Jerusalem.” with another swift move, he took off the glove of his left arm, and the bandages, revealing a thoroughly maimed hand, along with a golden ring with a large ruby. “And you - Will give me the kiss of peace.” he extended his seeping, untreated, dirty hand towards Reynald, who started slobbering and kissing his fingers without hesitation.

From disgust and anger, the King used the scepter to strike his face - One, twice, and a few more times, until the idiot was on the ground, cradling his injured face.  Though the physical exhaustion took over His Highness, and as he turned around, he stumbled to the ground, and into the sand. It was Tiberias who rushed to support him to stand, along with two guards, that helped him lay on a comfortable couch, as the Count of Tripoli commanded the arrest of the idiot. With a nod at the man, the King was risen with the bed, and carried out, so that he may return to Jerusalem, with the much needed aid, before he may return by himself, on horseback.

Once returned, however, the guards that greeted them started yelling ‘Imposter!’ and claiming the King that led them to Kerak, the King that settled peace with Salah al-Din, their most feared enemy, the King that punished Reynald - He was an imposter, and the real King Baldwin IV was in his study;  The Imposter was quickly immobilised, struck down and roughly brought over before the real King, whilst the Imposter was thrown to the ground to kneel, despite Tiberias and the other knights’ protests and attempts to stop such blasphemy.

Before their eyes, however, the knights witnessed two Kings - One a little taller than the other, and dressed in his normal robes, sitting on the throne and reading; The other, on the ground, just smaller, and with the War outfit on. The King of Jerusalem rose on his feet, startled at the sudden disturbance, and the peculiar sight before his eyes; It would have been almost hilarious, were he not enraged at the guards having been so rough with the Imposter, when he did not ordered them so. “You may release that one.” though the guards looked in shock at the orders, they complied. “Of course, there is no one who knows me better, than yourself. I was foolish to believe you would just remain quiet, at home, where I asked you to be. You fool.” his scolding was light-hearted and tender. “Tiberias, tell me, how did the affairs go?” “Your Majesty... Ergh... Salah al-Din agreed to a truce, and Reynald de Chatillon was severely punished... By... You.” the Count of Tripoli found it difficult to voice out the ambiguous message. He was upset that he did not realise the truth sooner; He had let himself be tricked, and so well. “All of you - You may leave.” the King ordered with a dismissive yet respectful wave of his hand. “But -- My King -- The Imposter --” one of the knights stammered over his words. “There is no Imposter, but a loving Queen who was ready to accept anything may come, to save her husband from a life-ending journey.” the King stepped in front of the Imposter, and taking the silver mask off, revealed the beautiful face of the Queen; The revealed earned an ocean of protests and gasps - How was a woman capable of not only fooling everyone, but of mimicking the King so flawlessly. “Perhaps it is not that you know me best, but that you know me better than even I know myself. Truly, I am honoured, and my heart soothed with honeyed mead, to know that you have gone through such trials, for my sake. Foolish indeed, yet with such positive outcome that I am incapable of feeling anything but happiness.” with some difficulty, he knelt besides her, so that he may pick her hands and get her up. “As I told you so many times, my love, you do not bow to me, for it not I alone, but the both of us, that are Jerusalem.” “My sweet King, I bare good news, for once!” Y/N spoke for the first time since she’s arrived; Though her voice was weak from dehydration, not only was she happy that her quest was a success, and that her darling Baldwin was not upset with her tricking him, but she was also smiling so brightly, so much so that it surprised the young man, as he hasn’t seen her so genuinely blissful since they were children. “Salah al-Din sent over his physicians, and they offered a gift - It is called Chaulmoogra oil, and they said people in India and China use it to treat leprosy - The statistics show great improvement, unlike any other treatment before. That man truly respects and cherishes you as a rival, and a leader, my love.” Baldwin froze on the spot, seeing the woman reveal a rather large carafe that she kept hidden underneath the robes, hanging from the sash. Were it not too hasty to have hope again? A miracle treatment, so suddenly, for him? And even if he does get treated, his face will never recover, and he doubts his limbs are going to feel again. Still, he was unable to refuse her, seeing as it was the only thing that put such a genuine smile on her face, after so long. “Alright, my sweet flower - For you, I shall try any treatment, no matter how revolutionary or eccentric.”

He could barely keep himself standing up, as Y/N, in a fit of euphoria, threw her arms around his neck and swayed him. The treatment made him nauseated more often than not, and he vomited at some points, yet after good weeks of continuous intake of this oil, added with the herbal cleaning and ointments for his skin, and regular walking, his body was beginning to feel a little stronger than previously - It almost felt that he was getting younger. It was a scary feeling, for it was so good and hopeful, that he feared losing it, and in turn, Y/N’s happiness.

As Baldwin began regaining his strength, and to some degree, even the feeling in his arms and legs, and he was properly capable of holding a sword again, he was emboldened to think of a future of his own. First, he asked Sibylla whether he agrees to divorce Guy, especially now that she knows how awful of a man he was - But once again, he was denied - Thus, he was forced to exile this idiot, and with him, his sister also followed. With the timely death of his nephew, Baldwin V, at the mere age of 10, the King realised he had no direct Heir to ascend the throne once he dies, whenever that may be, and as he was incapable of creating an heir himself, and with Sibylla refusing to step up as a Queen, if Guy does not ascend with her; Once again, it fell on poor Tiberias to help out with this matter. He trusted Balian to become a good King, but of course, he wanted to live a peaceful life, as a blacksmith, not restrained by the burdens of a King.

Next, he had to get rid of both Guy and Reynald, permanently, so that there would be no risk of enticing the Muslim Leader to wage war on Jerusalem; Especially as he has him to thank for his unexpected recovery, and for as long as he may live, he will remain eternally grateful for his kindness.

Baldwin fortified the walls of Jerusalem and strengthened the bonds with the armies under him, and kept the Kingdom of Heaven safe. It was a true wonder, being able to stand on the balcony, with his wife’s arms around his body, and watch the starry night illuminating the city to beautifully, and the song of the crickets and toads resounding soothingly through the place. 

Though he was still uncomfortable with letting go of the mask, knowing well enough that people will keep being horrified of his disfigured face, he felt at ease, dancing with his lovely white rose around their room, hearing her sweet giggles, and seeing that beautiful, dazzling smile of hers that captured his heart, from the very first time that he laid his eyes on her.

Baldwin was a fool, so deeply in love with Y/N, that he prayed to God every day not to make him up from this reverie, for he is eternally grateful for keeping his Faith in times of need, and that He replied to him with the greatest gift there was - Not just the treatment, but his Queen’s happiness restored. The glee of a fool in love.

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Though the quest that Y/N embarked on was a success, once she returned to Jerusalem, she was met with the reality of her husband’s health, which was degrading at such a swift pace, even without the journey made. It was ridiculous, thinking that she went through all of that, yet it aided Baldwin with nothing, save for two weeks of worry over her well-being. What a disaster, she thought to herself, as she returned to her room, her head hung, and discarding the Kingly outfit with annoyance and disgust, as though she was a little brat throwing a temper tantrum.

“I do not have the power to say how worried I was over you, for I cannot help but be so proud of my Queen, and infinitely happy beyond the horizon, to feel your heart soulbound to mine own. I missed you more than the deserts miss the rain.” though he tried to reassure Y/N, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing the change of the seasons.

And his prediction was correct; Soon, he was unable to move whatsoever, and his white outfit was changed with a royal black and golden one; Even his silver mask was replaced with a golden one, and he could only lay on the bed, his eyes mostly closed, and awaiting the sweet release of death.

Unexpectedly, Y/N was came over, smiling, but also crying, holding a goblet filled with honeyed red wine; She sat comfortably over his waist, looking down at him - She looked like a child, with her eyes glazed, and expression slightly dazed - And she took another gulp of the wine. “Oh. Hello, my sweet white rose.” it was difficult for him to speak, and though he wanted to address her unexpected drunkness, he couldn’t. He knew his time was ending, and perhaps selfish, he wished to see her smile as the last thing he’d witness in this world. “What were you dreaming of, my love?” she slurred cutely, dropping the now empty goblet to the ground, her hands placed on his chest, and slowly roaming up to his chest. “How great it would have been, if we were not separated by a curse.” she hummed, allowing herself to fall over on the bed next to him, smiling widely. “We are in the earthly Kingdom of Heaven. Once we reach the Celestial Heavens, there will be no afflictions or diseases hindering our love any longer, and for the rest of eternity, in the afterlife, our love shall continue onwards, transcending this unseen barrier between us.” she nuzzled into his side; Baldwin wasn’t sure whether she was giggling, or sobbing - Yet he was pretty sure she was doing both. “We will be ruling over nothing except our love, and we will have no responsibility, except to ourselves. We will finally be free to live, and to love... And to be happy.” “My love... What was in that wine?” with a lethargic move, Y/N pulled him into her body, his head resting onto her chest.  “What were you dreaming of, my love?” she asked again - The excruciating revelation dawned on him - Y/N had poisoned herself. She could not bare seeing him die before her eyes, she couldn’t bare him dying before her, and her having to endure all the agony of a lonely life, with a shattered heart, never to be mended again. She cared little whether people would find out she killed herself, and she would get beheaded. Her only wish, written, was to be buried with him - Wish that she also voiced to him. “I was back in that summer, when I defeated Salah al-Din.” if he could cry, he would, not only for himself, but for Y/N feeling so heartbroken that she felt compelled to end it all. “Do you remember it? We were only 16.” “Of course I remember. I was so worried for you, out there, without anyone to care for you. I was praying to God every hour I was awake, to keep you safe, and have you return to me. I remember I jumped on you from happiness, as soon as you dismounted your horse. I toppled you to the ground. The Archbishop yelled at me for not behaving like a Queen, but Tiberias pushed him away, so he wouldn’t bother us.” he could only offer a weak, breathy chuckle as a reply. “You are as beautiful as the white rose that I put in your hair, that day, when we met. I am truly honoured that I had the fortune of being your husband. No man ever felt love, as much as I did, thanks to you.” he stole one last good look at her, before settling comfortably in her embrace. “My sweet white rose.” he called out. “Will you sing for me?” “Yes, my love. Allow me to sing you to sleep.”

I seek a man named Baldwin Whom I bid await me here I pledged that I would see him Before he leaves this sphere

This man of whom I speak He gave his heart to me But thence my soul grew weak And at last it too broke free

So borne upon an urgent breeze I travelled to his place Where only one thing could appease The torment I now face

Oh tell me I am not too late To see my love once more For that would be too cruel a fate I beg him be restored

That we may take a little time To bid our last farewell And remember all we shared erstwhile Such joy no one could quell

For never was a greater love Than that within our hearts Once born, forever binding us Through not e’en death we part

Who was the first to ascend to heavens, not even God knew, for they both appeared before him, holding each other so tenderly, looking like the most beautiful youth, foolishly in love with each other.

As in Eden, so on Earth, the two were found cradling each other, though the heart beat that once lulled the other to sleep, was no longer present; Yet a smile adorned both of their faces.  Just as left on the note, Y/N was buried together with King Baldwin IV - The King and Queen who loved each other more than any before, and certainly, any in the future also - The two lovers who could never be torn apart, in life, death, or anything in between.

Up there, however, they were no a pair of King and Queen, but just a man and a woman, fated to eternally love each other. They were just themselves - Y/N and Baldwin - Two fools, so foolishly in love with each other.

#kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven x reader #kingdom of heaven imagine #king baldwin #king baldwin x reader #king baldwin imagine #king baldwin iv #king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv imagine

[xo-cod]

fluff w simon <33 :') so obsessed w him, lmk if you'd like this w the others 🤍

cw: mentions of his abusive past, babies. also probably ooc/rushed LMAO 🫣

simon riley ♡ who swore to himself that love simply wasn't meant to be in his life after the traumatic past he had to bear now grew to enjoy baking with you, frowning and tutting playfully when your fingers hover over the chocolate chips and placing them on top of the fridge when you keep eating them all. he sighs after a few minutes and gives them back to you, your pout too cute to resist but you make up for it with kisses. they taste sweeter to him anyway <33

simon riley ♡ who worked to the bone as an escape from his personal life, finds himself becoming anxious when he's delayed and suddenly working overtime. he has to try to resist the temptation to become frustrated since he was the second in command and and this was technically the job he had signed up for but the fact that you're waiting for him at home is enough for him to risk everything run straight into your arms. he tries to reign in his impatience but it's hard when every precious minute that ticks by, he could be bundled up in your arms and watching a movie together. he doesn't care which one, so long as it makes you happy. and when he finally does rush back home, the very first thing he does is take you in his arms, ripping away his balaclava to kiss your sleepy face with such tenderness it warms your whole body <33

simon riley ♡ who used to spend the nights alone in his bed, hating to go to sleep because he wouldn't have any restful dreams now looked forwards to the snuggles you'd give him curled up in the bed. needing your body weight on him as if a weighted blanket to help him and keep him calm throughout the night. it's the way your body molds so perfectly to his, your hands interlaced, he can overcome anything like this. such a love wasn't allowed especially in his dangerous line of work. admittedly it was difficult finding the line between work and pleasure. it was hard at first to find the line between simon and ghost but you gave him patience and understanding. something he wasn't used to, something he didn't even think he deserved. you were the first to actually listen and understand his situation. the first to be sympathetic and knowing at how delicate the line had to be. he didn't like lying to you but you never put him in that position to ever do so. his dreams are much sweeter with you now <33

simon riley ♡ who walked around the base with a blank stare, stoic expression now breaks into a small smile whenever he sees you near. there's a lightness around him, the team have noticed. many a times has soap and gaz teased him when he's leaning against his chair risking a slap to the head when they catch the lieutenant deep in thought with crinkled eyes and a soft smile hidden under his mask. he doesn't have the energy to hide it anymore. he rolls his eyes when they make comments but he knows deep down they're true. he's happier with you, he's become better with you. you've got him wrapped your pretty lil finger and don't he know it <33

simon riley ♡ who grew to hate the world around him slowly learnt there was light even in darkness. who carried so much trauma, never experiencing the love of a family held back his own emotions when your parents and siblings accepted him with open arms. getting along with your father, complimenting your mom, all the small kids adoring how funny he was. he found himself looking forwards to next family gathering with your family that now considered him as their own, your mom giving him a gentle hug everytime and him biting his tongue to not cry because he can't remember what his own mothers hug had felt like. but it was similar to this warm feeling he got when he hugged your mom. he could only stand there as the warmness creeps through his heart like a ray of sun, that maybe perhaps this world wasn't as cruel as it once was <33

simon riley ♡ who was always fine doing things himself since he didn't have anyone to rely on now had separation anxiety when you were gone too long. he calms himself down, he's a trained sas soldier but when it's been a while and you're not in close contact, he's prone to becoming anxious. he doesn't want to be clingy or unbearable but you're his anchor in this treacherous world. keeping him grounded when his world has tilted on his axis. his calmness when there's trouble and his relief when the hardships are there. suddenly all the boring and menial tasks such as cooking and shopping are so much fun with you as you both playfully argue over what to buy. he always picks you up a treat no matter what, you're just his love <33

simon riley ♡ who thought his world ended when his mother and tommy died found renewed comfort in a new world waiting for him with you, teary eyed at the end of the aisle. trying to hold back the tears because you look like an angel, an angel he didn't even know if he deserved to have. you always reassure him but as you walk closer and closer, he just wants to take you in his arms and never let you go. the second your hands touch his, a shiver of delight runs through his body and calms his mind. you were his and he was yours, certainly no doubt about it. the years may not have been kind to him but you were a beacon of light throughout it all, this time you were his knight in shining armour. you saved him, even when he didn't realise it <33

and finally, simon riley ♡ who thought it would be him alone in this world now had you and a baby girl. his eyes shining with tears, kissing your forehead as he looks to small little baby sleeping in his huge arms. she was so incredibly small, barely even taking space in one arm. god he was so emotional, the walls that he spent years building around his guarded heart all but melted and crumbled into so many pieces. he looked at you with adoration while you slept in the hospital bed, looking back in his arms and noting all the similarities she bore between the two of you. how he noticed she even shared the same dimple placement just like his mother did, how her eyes crinkled in the same place tommy's did. she was so beautiful, all the parts of his past that he thought he'd lost forever lived on with her. simon sniffled softly, his eyes shining under the hospital lights while his thumb caressed her small forehead gently. he cradled her close to his chest, his heartbeat a soothing lullaby for his little one. his family before may have been snatched cruelly from his fingers but here he made an oath to protect you and his baby until his very last breath.

finally thanking the universe for his rock and now, his baby <33

#simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader fluff #simon riley x you

[writingjourney]

Heavens Away | Secondo x f!Reader

For a brief moment he feels like he’s standing in the chapel, gazing into the face of Lilith on the triptych, envying the serpent that is intimately wrapped around her body. He would worship you, he thinks, in much the same way.

Content: 2.8k words, f!reader, smut (breast play, dry humping, kissing, marking, praise, oral sex m receiving, p in v sex, soft dominance, couch sex, unprotected), some affectionate and loving Secondo smut ♡  – 18+, MDNI

Masterlist – Ao3 link

He watches you for a time-stopping moment – the frame is frozen, the video on pause, the clock ticking in a vacuum. He is the visitor in a museum of fine arts who stops in front of a painting to admire. The scene is simple. You sit by the window in nothing but a loose shirt, the evening sunlight illuminating your head like a halo – an angel dipped in liquid gold. The book you’re reading is one of his, a restored early edition of Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita, and you handle it with the care of a mother cradling her child.

Perhaps you notice his attention. The frames start moving again as your head turns in his direction. And then you smile. He can’t bring himself to look away, even though he knows it will eventually disturb the view. If the sunlight is warm, it holds nothing to the warmth in your gaze.

As expected you close the book and delicately place it on the armchair as you rise. He watches your figure as it crosses the room, so familiar to his eyes and hands, yet never losing the charm of novelty. You stop where he has reclined comfortably on the sofa and his eyes are drawn upwards to meet yours, the scene changing into a new composition. For a brief moment he feels like he’s standing in the chapel, gazing into the face of Lilith on the triptych, envying the serpent that is intimately wrapped around her body. He would worship you, he thinks, in much the same way.

You reach out with cautious hands, cradling his head as softly as the book, like he is precious beyond any measurable worth. Secondo can’t resist the temptation any longer, wondering if you are the serpent after all. He pulls you down into his lap, face pressed against yours so firmly that you can feel the outline of his nose in your cheek. You wrap your arms around him for support, giggling slightly when he drags his lips over the sensitive spot below your ear. He inhales the sound like he inhales your scent, then exhales in warm huffs against your tender throat.

“You smell divine, my dove.” He nuzzles you again, slowly this time, then hums in delight. “My favorite scent.”

You move your hands back to his head, gently scratching and massaging his scalp. “You’re very affectionate today.”

His lips ghost over your jaw. “Is that so bad?”

Right when you open your mouth to answer he sucks on your skin and you gasp, squirming on his thighs to try and calm your growing need. His hands settle on your hips in a firm grip, keeping you steady as his wet lips trail further down. “N-No.”

“You taste divine too,” he mumbles, unimpressed by your reaction. “So good for me, so very good for your Papa.”

“Seco–” 

You trail off when his lips attach to your neck, sucking roughly. You cling to his shoulder, his neck, anywhere you can reach, moaning as you feel lustful shivers running down your spine. For a while you get lost under his ministrations, all your love for him so very palpable when he touches you like this. His teeth nibble your skin, his tongue soothing over the spot before he sucks yet again, so hard you wonder if he’s trying to absorb you, suck you into him. Desperately aching for him, you attempt to move your hips against his, to feel more of him, but his grip is too firm. With his mouth so insistent, your skin soon starts to burn, then properly ache. Maybe he’s already broken it, licking up your blood without faltering.

“Papa, it h-hurts,” you whimper.

He breaks away slightly. “Does it?”

“Hm, lots.”

“Mi scusi, amore, I get a little… carried away. You forgive me, sì?”

“Mhm.”

You’d forgive him anything, you both know this, especially when he calls you amore. The corners of his mouth spread against your neck as they form a loving smile. His lips tenderly move over the abused spot, a featherlight kiss that sends goosebumps over your skin, leaving a wet mark that feels cool as he breaks away.

“Better, yes?”

You smile as you gaze into his shimmering mismatched eyes, then at his mouth that is all messy and blotched. “Yes, better.”

“Give your Papa a proper kiss now, hm?”

Your lips meet his in a silent gasp, remains of his make-up mixing with your spit and leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. His kisses are always deliberate, even in your daily life. He never kisses in passing but sacrifices a few precious seconds to linger, firm and intimate, until you know he does not take even a fraction of you for granted.

There lies a certain pain in knowing that someone wants your body but nothing more. That they love you enough to take your pleasure but not enough to help and carry the weight of your soul. This is not what being with Secondo feels like. He is slowly, carefully peeling the outer layers from your heart, reaching into the depths of your desires beyond just the carnal lust you both share. Every kiss and touch caress parts of you that you kept protected for so long that you forgot they existed. You think, you hope, that you are doing the same for him.

You break the kiss for a sigh when his hands push underneath the shirt that is draped over your body, unbuttoned and falling open as soon as his hands move upwards to cup your breasts – his shirt, really, that you wrapped around your shoulders earlier that evening. Your skin is soft as he feels the weight of them, gently kneading the supple flesh and circling your nipples with his thumbs. Secondo kisses you again when you arch into his touch, swallowing the whimpers and moans his deft fingers draw from you. You’re free to roll your hips now and you take advantage of your position. He can’t fight off a groan when he feels the outlines of your cunt grinding down on his cock, slicking your underwear as well as his pants.

“I want you in my mouth,” you whisper. “Please.”

He has never been able to deny you the pleasure of tasting him, no matter how fast it usually brings him to his release, seeing that you are always so eager to please him. When he looks into your eyes now, filled with need and devotion, he swallows against a dry throat. 

“Ask me again,” he says. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please, let me taste you. Let me feel your weight on my tongue, Papa. I crave you.”

He gives a nod and you break away to settle between his legs on the floor, thighs tightly pressed together. His arms have spread over the back of the sofa and he shifts his hips forward to grant you better access, bracing you between his strong thighs. With the same deft, cautious fingers you open the buckle of his belt, feeling your own wetness on his crotch as you pull down the zipper of his slacks. He is beautifully hard and Secondo gives a relieved sigh when you pull his cock from its restraints. You immediately nuzzle it, pressing your cheek against his hot, leaking member.

“You are an infernal sight,” he comments. “A paragon of lust and devotion.”

You smile and rub your face against his cock, looking up to meet his intense gaze. His eyes are focused on you as he brings his hand to your other cheek, so tenderly that it draws a sigh from you. You lean in to kiss his abdomen, pressing more soft kisses around his cock, the tender skin where it meets his body, down his length, never losing sight of him. His skin tastes salty and his dark pubic hair tickles your nose as you kiss down to his balls. The hand on your cheek fully cups you now, his thumb pressing just below your eye, and you smile up at him.

“Are you teasing your Papa?” Secondo asks, swallowing hard in his visible strain.

“No,” you assure him with a kiss to the underside of his shaft. “I am loving my Papa.”

His lips part but before he can say anything, you close your lips around his tip and distort his words into a low groan. Instead of forcing you to go faster, he allows you to set a languid pace, breaking away to kiss his hooded tip every so often while his hand gently combs through your hair. You take your time, looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes, trying to show him exactly how much you appreciate him. You don’t need him to be strong and perfect all the time. You want him to let go of his social constraints and allow himself to just be when he’s with you – your partner, your lover, the Papa of your very own church.

His breathing becomes more erratic when you take him deeper, caressing him with your tongue and hollowing your cheeks. You can feel his thighs flexing at your sides and you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, never losing sight of him. His eyes stay on yours as well, even as his eyelids begin to flutter from the stimulation. His hand tightens in your hair but he doesn’t exert any force, just holds you, massaging your scalp encouragingly.

“Amore,” he warns when he’s getting close. “Come up here, per favore. I want to feel your skin on mine.”

You break away, leaving him wet and achingly hard as you climb back into his lap. He urges you out of your garments, then pushes his pants fully down while you work open the buttons on his own shirt. He’s meticulous and before long you have your hands on his solid chest, caressing the dark curly hair that runs all over his body.

“I want you, Papa,” you whisper, kissing him again with an eager, open mouth.

Secondo allows you to grind down on his cock, the wetness between your legs easing the movement as he glides between your folds. You moan into each other’s mouths at the sensation and he pulls you close, chest against chest, so perfectly intimate and warm.

When you break away from the kiss, he purrs. “You have pleased your Papa, I think it is time that he pleases you, hm?”

His hands firmly grip your hips again, denting the soft flesh as he moves you to lie flat on your back. The sofa gives a squeak when he settles between your legs, spreading them as wide as the narrow surface allows. This is not his ideal spot in your quarters, he prefers to have space, to take his time with you to give you the attention you deserve. Right now, however, he is too stunned by the sight of you sprawled out underneath him with the evening sun still dipping your curves into its orange light. He remembers his silent promise to worship you and so he lets his lips caress every inch of your body he can reach.

He begins at the bruising spot on your neck. Already you squirm, trying to guide his mouth further down, and so he gathers your hands to pin them over your head. He has taught you patience over the time you’ve been together but he can never quite tame your eagerness. Not that he earnestly wants to.

“Ssh,” he says. “It is my turn to love you now.”

The deep breath you take at his words vibrates under his mouth as he kisses your sternum. You shiver, goosebumps spreading underneath his lips. Secondo gives himself another few minutes, covering your chest in kisses, leaving a few deep red marks in the most prominent spots.

“Please,” you whisper, your wrists fighting against his strong grip.

He does not let go, instead he brings his lips back to yours, pushing his tongue inside the cavity of your mouth and delving as deep as you allow. Your hips buck and he presses you down with his full weight, plundering your mouth until your lips are swollen. His free hand moves between your bodies, ghosting over your mound until his fingers graze your clit. You gasp at the contact, closing your eyes as they lose their focus. He aligns his cock with your entrance, teasing you both by dragging his tip along your slit and lightly dipping inside.

“Oh, Papa.”

Secondo stills and circles your aching, swollen clit, drawing whimpers and deep lustful sounds from your throat with every rotation. Your moans are his favorite gospel, your breathy words the most devoted prayer he has ever heard. Again, your arms resist as you shift beneath his grasp, rolling your hips into his touch in your search for more.

“Papa,” you whisper, voice laced with complaint.

“You want to touch me, amore?” he asks, tightening his grip on your wrists.

“Yes.”

“Hmmmm, will you beg for me? You know how I love it when you do.”

“Papa,” you repeat, squirming impatiently in his hold. “Papa, please. I want to touch you.”

He doesn’t let go but looks down at you with a loving glimmer in his eyes that speaks more than any confession ever could. He looks vulnerable and for a drawn-out moment you just look at each other, no words necessary when your eyes meet. His lips part and the last traces of his resistance slowly melt away.

“Secondo,” you whisper now. “Please.”

He finally releases your wrists and then his whole face softens, the deep creases evening out until he’s smiling. You wrap your hands around his neck, refamiliarising yourself with the tenderness of his skin as your fingertips trace every single curve you can find. It’s the touch of a butterfly, tickling so softly that it takes his breath away.

“Amore, you have already touched me,” he says, a shimmer glossing over his eyes, tears or a trick of the light, you’re not quite certain, “in so many ways.”

With that he finally pushes inside, dragging his cock slowly along your walls until your hips are flush and he can’t go any deeper. He fills you so perfectly, molding you around him to match his shape. Every roll of his hips is a revelation, every moan a promise of his unending devotion to you. You pull him closer until his full weight is resting on you and you can feel his warm skin on yours. Even though his thrusts are more shallow now they seem to fill you even more thoroughly, spreading pleasure in your whole body. Soon you clench around him, your hands grasping him tightly, and he grinds into you with more fervor.

“Come for me, my dove,” he whispers, grunting when he feels the tightness in his own body that announces his impending release. His thumb goes back to drawing circles over your clit. “Come for your Papa.”

You shudder, then the heat in your belly spreads in rippling waves as you fall over the edge, wrapping your legs around him to keep him as close as possible. Secondo stills for a moment, inhaling sharply when he feels you tightening around him, revelling in the sounds you make, the sensation of your body trembling underneath him with the intensity of your pleasure. All of his senses are attuned to you.

“Hm, so good for me,” he says, trying to hold back for a little longer. “S-so good.”

When you begin to come down from your high he continues to move, extending your pleasure. You gently stroke his neck, his back, caressing him as he approaches his own release. He can feel the love in your soft touches and his chest clenches, his heart stuttering just like his hips when he finally comes. He groans and buries his face in your neck as he spills heavily inside of you. He gives you all that he has, a few more shallow thrust to prolong the sensation. When he is spent, he rolls you onto your sides, keeping you close.

In the shared space, your breaths mingle, and he can’t help but nuzzle your nose, placing another soft, lingering kiss to your mouth.

“I love you, Secondo,” you whisper, still caressing the back of his head.

“And I love you, my dove,” he replies.

You smile and close your eyes but he can’t bring himself to stop looking at your relaxed, angelic face. If he had any talent he would paint you just like this, capture you basking in such deep bliss and preserve the sight for all of eternity. Instead he leans in to press two featherlight kisses to your eyelids, another one to your nose, then your lips, and traps the picture deep inside of his heart.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

#secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #papa emeritus ii smut #secondo smut #secondo fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #reader insert #female reader

[aemonds-fire]

Answered Prayers Dark Prince Aemond x Female Reader

First infatuation, then obsession. Prince Aemond has found the lady of his dreams and the gods give him a way to keep her.

Pairing: HOTD Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Word Count: 2718

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Dark, Murder (nothing graphic), mention of murder/suicide, medieval-canon sexism, coercion, some DUB/CON - NON/CON (not much, unwanted kiss and touching), Profanity

This is a cleaned up version of the original. This can be read as a stand alone oneshot, but it will also serve as part one of the Answered Prayers Series.

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

Answered Prayers Masterlist

Enjoy! Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

The moment Prince Aemond sees her, his breath catches in his chest, for she is more lovely in a simple traveling dress than other ladies are in their most costly finery. Her eyes are bright in the sun's rays as she disembarks from the carriage that has brought her, her father, and her stepmother to the Red Keep for the tourney and festivities. As she casts her demure gaze upon him with a shy smile on her soft lips, a spark of infatuation is born within him.

A few discreet inquiries are all it takes to uncover the identity of this enchanting beauty from a respected house in the Reach, learning she is the only surviving child and heir to her house. Despite her mother's passing less than a year ago, her father has already remarried and is still seeking a son. Gossip says her father has promised her to an older lord, rejecting a young suitor of her choice.

He watches her walk through the gardens, chatting and laughing with other young nobles. She is by far the most beautiful, the most ladylike, and the most gentle example of highborn womanhood he has ever laid his eye upon. The sight of her makes him wish she were holding his arm and strolling leisurely among the blooming flowers—a very unexpected sentiment for the prince.

"But beautiful young ladies do not wish to be on the arm of the One-Eyed Prince," he reminds himself.

He observes her at the tourney, seeing her gasp and pale at the brutality of the joust, thinking she is far too tender of heart to witness such bloodshed. A precious flower like her should be shielded from violence, and he imagines himself taking her delicate hand in his to soothe her distress.

But he knows his cold and indifferent manner lacks the warmth to offer comfort to anyone. He whispers a soft prayer, asking for guidance from the Seven. He asks the gods why they torment him with such sweetness and innocence that he can never possess.

He spies her in the library, absorbed in her book. He longs to sit beside her, savoring their mutual companionship. When he closes his eye, he envisions times of them talking about their favorite books or her reading aloud to him with her sweet-sounding voice.

‘Is this what love feels like?’ He thinks when he is alone in his chambers, peaceful slumber once again eluding him. ‘To have every thought consumed by another; to feel an aching need for someone?’ He prays for answers.

"Pity the poor girl that will have to marry him," he remembers hearing. He is not able to charm the ladies. Sweet and kind are not in his nature, and romance is beyond his grasp. He is the One-Eyed Prince with an ugly scar, a cold heart, and an intimidating disposition. "Love is not for me," he tells himself.

During the feast, he tries not to stare as she effortlessly engages in polite conversation while taking dainty bites of her meal. His body grows restless with fool’s dreams of feeding her morsels from his own hand and feeling her luscious lips graze his fingertips.

His eye can't help but follow her as she gracefully glides across the floor with the other lords. Her eyes were alight, there was a glow to her skin, and the tops of her rounded breasts heaved breathlessly from the dance. His blood simmers beneath his stoic exterior, knowing that it should be his hand on her waist, that he should be the cause of her laughter, and that her dazzling smiles should only be for him.

He understands that he is obsessed with her. She somehow slipped past his cold disdain and into the darkness of his being; once there, she set a fire that now raged through him.

‘Your face does not cause ladies to blush, but turn away in distaste,’ his mind jabs at him. He asks the gods if they are punishing him by taunting him with her beauty.

Aemond decides to take a late walk to clear his head, knowing that later, in the candlelight of his chambers, he will again be fisting his hard cock while imagining her touch, her taste, and her warmth.

Walking through the dim corridors of the Keep, he is surprised to see a lone figure standing on an open balcony overlooking the city beneath. He recognizes her immediately, having studied her posture, the way she tilts her head, and the delectable figure no gown can hide. His heart skips a beat as he approaches her, unable to resist being near her.

"Good evening, my lady," he says quietly, trying not to frighten her.

She startles anyway, completely unaware of his presence. "Oh, your grace," she says timidly, trying to compose herself. She hastily dips in respect for him.

She is clearly nervous and flustered. Aemond notices she is gripping something tightly in her hand. It looks like a small glass vial with a silver top that she tries to hide behind her skirts.

Despite his best efforts, his attempts to converse are awkward, as everything he says sounds artless and stiff. Her unease is clear and frustrates him even more.

‘You lack the eloquence and grace to engage a lady. Even Aegon, drunk in his cups, can manage charming humor to beguile a young innocent like her.’ He chides himself.

Though disappointed in himself, his heart leaps when she accepts his offer to escort her back to her chambers.

Once she places her delicate hand on his arm, they begin walking. He can feel her hand tremble, and he wishes he knew how to settle her uneasiness. When they reach her chamber door, he cannot resist placing a feather-light kiss on the top of her hand. "I hope you sleep well. Perhaps you would accompany me for a walk in the gardens tomorrow?" he asks, hopefully.

"Yes, I would like that very much, your grace," she says as she opens her chamber door. "I wish you a good night. Thank you."

Aemond commits to memory the sound of her voice, the scent of her skin, and the thrill of her touch. Late in the night, he lays with his spilled seed on his skin, his heart pounding, and he prays to the Mother, the Maiden, and the Crone to show him the way to claim his heart’s desire. Though he has long believed the gods do not listen to him, he was so desperate and consumed by his need that he was more than willing to beg.

It is the next morning, while Aemond is breaking his fast with his mother, that he learns of the deaths of his beautiful lady’s father and stepmother.

A maid servant summoned the guards to their chambers. Among the bodies lie letters between the lord and an unidentified mistress, expressing regret over his new marriage and making promises of eternal love with hopes for the future. The cause of their deaths is clearly poison, with spilled cups of wine nearby and a small vial with a silver top near the dead lady's hand. The obvious conclusion is that the lady, distraught over her husband’s love for another woman, poisoned his wine before taking her own life.

Queen Alicent’s second son remains characteristically silent, only humming in agreement with his mother that the young lady will need comfort and aid during her time of mourning. While she voices her concern for the lord’s daughter, who must be shocked and heartsick over this tragedy, Aemond examines the vial with the silver top before discreetly pocketing the deadly item after the guards are dismissed and his mother is distracted.

That day, for the first time since he was a young, naive child, he voluntarily went to the Sept to say prayers of gratitude to the Mother, the Maiden, and the Crone for answering his desperate prayers.

At supper with his family, he learns that the young lady has chosen to remain in her chambers at this time. When his grandsire mentions arranging a marriage in accordance with her late father's wishes, he silently bristles with anger.

Later that night, he quietly makes his way through the secret passages in the Red Keep, which he has explored since he was a child. He knows that his beautiful lady’s chambers have an entrance that few know about. He stealthily slips into her room undetected, watching her from a darkened corner as she sits on her bed, reading a letter.

She has apparently dismissed her maids for the night, for she is wearing her nightdress and robe of soft, silky fabric that clings to her shape, with delicate satin slippers on her feet. Her hair is unbraided and loose.

He closes his eye, trying to steady himself, for the sight of her is already causing his heart to pound and a stirring in his trousers. He slowly steps forward into the dim light, cautiously moving towards her, not wanting to frighten her. After he gently clears his throat to gain her attention, he places a finger to his lips when she startles, looking at him with wide-eyed surprise.

"My lady, please forgive my intrusion into your chambers in this manner," he asks, his voice low, speaking to her gently.

She is clearly uncertain about the situation in which she now finds herself. Hesitantly, she stands and gives a shaky dip, whispering, "Your grace." Her eyes are downcast and confused.

"You have nothing to fear from me; I mean you no harm," he reassures her, coming closer to her bedside. "I wanted to speak with you privately about a delicate matter," he continues, his eye noticing the faint trembling of her hand and the quickened breaths she takes.

Struggling to find her voice, she nervously asks, "What matter would that be, your grace?"

She reminds him of a skittish doe, alone and afraid—something he finds quite alluring. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the empty poison vial, showing it to her in his outstretched hand. "If I remember correctly, you had this with you when we met last night. However, this contained the poison that your stepmother apparently used to kill your father and then herself. So I have to ask, Why did you have it?"

He hears her breath catch in her throat, watches her eyes dart down to the floor, and notices her hand twisting the fabric of her robe. While she endeavors to answer him, he coolly reminds her, "Please consider your words carefully; lying to your prince could cost you your tongue."

Upon hearing that, she gasps, her eyes wide with fear. Soon her lip begins to tremble, and tears glisten in her eyes. "Please, your grace, you do not understand..." she murmurs, shaking her head.

Stepping forward, he takes her shaking hand in his. "I want to understand, but you must tell me the truth," he says gently, guiding her to sit next to him on the bed. "I came to you alone to help you."

Nodding her head, she begins to tell him about her mother and how she tried her best to fulfill her duty to her husband by giving him a son, but to no avail. Several lost babes had taken their toll on her mother’s health. Her father knew another birth could kill his wife, but he decided she would give him a healthy son or die trying. She wipes the tears from her cheeks as she begs for Aemond’s understanding: "My mother should be alive. She was wronged, and I was wronged by having to lose her. Please, your grace, I am not an evil person; I only sought justice for my mother."

Looking at her tear-streaked face and pleading eyes, he tells her, "I can understand the need for justice," before pausing for a moment. "So you poisoned their wine?" 

She closes her eyes, trembling, nods her head, and whispers, "Yes, I did." Choking back a sob, she pleads, "Please, your grace, I will never harm anyone again. I will return home and marry. I will be a dutiful wife. If you let me go, you will never see me again."

"My grandsire already talks of a marriage for you arranged by your father," he informs her.

"No, I do not wish to marry the man he chose," she cries softly, tears falling again.

Aemond cannot resist wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Do not cry, my lady. I will help you avoid that fate," he reassures her.

She looks at him through her tears. "You will help me?" she asks, almost childlike in her hopefulness.

He gently strokes her hair and asks, "Have you told anyone else? Did you tell anyone of your plan?"

She shakes her head and says, "No, I told no one."

Smiling softly, he said, "Good, this will be our secret then. You and I will marry, keeping your secret safe," he tells her, putting his arm around her shoulders and drawing her closer.

She pulls back, shocked by his words: "Marry? But, I…" she tries to say before she feels a painful tug as he grabs a handful of her hair, yanking her head back.

He sees the pain and confusion in her eyes as he holds her by the hair, caressing her tear-stained cheek. "Yes, you will be my wife, and you will only belong to me." The corner of his curved mouth turns up with a look of satisfaction. "You will give yourself to me willingly, because refusing will cost you your pretty little head for murder."

"Now tell me that you understand," he instructs after a moment, watching her closely.

Still wincing with pain, she struggles to say, "Yes, I understand."

Pleased with her response, he releases his grip on her hair, placing his arm back around her. "Good girl," he praises her, tracing a finger over her lips and feeling her rapid breaths. "I want you to know that I have no wish to hurt you or see you hurt. I have prayed to the gods every day, and they have answered my prayers, delivering you to me," he tells her, leaning closer.

He can sense her body trembling, see the tears rolling down her cheeks, and hear her gasping for breath. "My mother will speak with you; she will ask if you need anything and invite you to remain here. You will accept the invitation to stay here for your mourning," he tells her. "You will do this, yes?" He asks her.

She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before she answers. "Yes, your grace," she manages to choke out between sobs.

Aemond brushes his lips against her cheek, tasting her tears and whispering, "I will make you a princess, give you everything, and protect you. You will be my beautiful, loving wife. I will make you mine, worshiping your body and filling you with my seed. You will give me strong little dragons." He can feel her trembling as he pulls her closer, his lips now seeking hers. Though she does not return his kiss, she does not resist when his mouth claims hers. It is not the most gentle of kisses; his lips press hard against hers, but he has dreamed of this and prayed for it, and he must allow himself this taste of her. Only when she feels his large hand begin to roam over her body does she struggle to pull away.

"Please...do not," she gasps, trying to break the kiss with her hands on his chest, trying to push him away.

He wraps his long fingers around her wrists and holds them tightly in his hands. "Do not be afraid, my sweet girl. I know I cannot claim you yet, though I do not know if I can wait until we are wed," His voice was low and raspy with want. Staring intently at her, he reminds her, "All will be fine so long as you remember that your life is in my hands. One word from me, and your murderous ways will be known, but I am willing to overlook your sins because I am mad with a need for you. You are the answer to my prayers, and I will not be denied."

Tagging - @anukulee

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond smut #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond hotd #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #house of the dragon aemond #ewan mitchell #dark aemond #dark!aemond #dark!aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Airport Security

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - this video gave me a few ideas to write with but this is the one i decided to write so i hope that you all enjoy. 💗

word count - 1.2k

in which, harry and his daughter madison have a tradition of going on a little father-daughter holiday, they first did it when she was six months old, just before her first birthday and now there doing it just before her second birthday, but today, let’s just say little miss is in a very cranky mood.

As Harry's Range Rover glided along the quiet road towards the airport, he stole a glance at his sleeping daughter, Madison, nestled cosily in her car seat.

Her hair, tied up in two adorable ponytails by his wife just before they left the house at the crack of dawn, bobbed gently with the rhythm of the car. Madison's dummy was nestled in her mouth, her little hand clutching her favourite stuffed bunny.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of his precious daughter, her peaceful slumber filling him with warmth and tenderness. The early morning light cast a soft glow over her delicate features, illuminating the innocence that radiated from her angelic face.

When Madison was six months old, harry took her on a little overnight trip so that the wife could have a bit of a break and then he took her to the Lake District just before her first birthday and now, with her second birthday vastly approaching, he had decided that they were going to spend the weekend in his Italian villa.

Father-Daughter holidays had quickly become a tradition in the Styles household.

As they neared the airport, Harry drove with extra care, mindful not to disturb Madison's rest. He reached back occasionally to tuck the blanket more snugly around her, ensuring she remained comfortable throughout the journey.

As the Range Rover rolled to a stop at the airport, Harry turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, his heart brimming with anticipation for their adventure ahead. With gentle steps, he made his way to the boot of the car, where Madison's stroller awaited.

Carefully lifting the stroller from the trunk, Harry marveled at how quickly Madison had grown, from a tiny infant to a lively toddler. He couldn't wait to explore Italy with her by his side, every moment an opportunity to create cherished memories together.

As Harry opened Madison's car door, he leaned in gently to lift her from the car seat, expecting her to wake up with a sleepy yawn. However, as he cradled her in his arms, he was met with a different response than he anticipated.

Madison grumbled sleepily, "Daddy, noooo... tired."

Harry chuckled softly, "I know, m’pickle, but we're here. S’a quick stop at the airport, then we'll be on our way."

But Madison wasn't having it. Her tiny fists balled up, and she kicked her legs in protest, "No, no, no! Sleepy!"

As Harry tried to settle Madison into the stroller, she resisted fiercely, her tiredness manifesting in stubborn kicks and squirms. Despite his gentle efforts, she continued to protest, her tiny form wriggling in his grasp.

"Come on, Maddy-moo, just a moment longer," Harry urged softly, his voice laced with patience and understanding.

But Madison was having none of it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she cried out, "No! Want Daddy!"

With a determined but gentle touch, Harry managed to secure Madison into the stroller, though her protests continued. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked up at him with pleading eyes, her bottom lip quivering with emotion.

"I know, pickle," Harry murmured, his heart aching at her distress. "M’right here with you.”

As Harry secured Madison in the stroller, her tired cries still echoing in the early morning air, he quickly retrieved the baby bag from the trunk of the car. With practiced efficiency, he slung it over his shoulder, ensuring he had everything they needed for their journey ahead.

Next, he grabbed the bags filled with their clothes, one for himself and one for Madison. Despite her tears and protests, Harry remained steadfast, determined to make their trip as smooth as possible.

As he locked up the car and began pushing the stroller towards the airport entrance, Madison's cries persisted, tugging at Harry's heartstrings with each step. He longed to soothe her, to ease her discomfort and frustration, but he knew that sometimes, all he could do was be there for her, offering comfort and reassurance.

As they approached the check-in counter, Harry heaved a sigh of relief as the process went smoothly, the airport staff efficiently tagging and loading their bags onto the conveyor belt.

Madison's cries had subsided slightly, replaced by quiet sniffles as she clung to her stuffed bunny for comfort.

With their bags checked in, Harry took Madison's hand and guided her towards the security checkpoint, a sense of apprehension gnawing at his stomach. Airport security was always a daunting prospect, especially with a tired and cranky toddler in tow.

As they joined the queue, Harry mentally prepared himself for the inevitable challenges ahead. He knew that keeping Madison calm and cooperative would be no easy feat, especially with the long lines and strict security measures.

As they reached the front of the security line, the security officer motioned for Harry to take Madison out of the stroller. Harry's shoulders slumped slightly as he anticipated Madison's reaction. He nodded in acknowledgment to the officer, trying to hide his apprehension.

"Sir, I'll need you to remove your daughter from the stroller for a moment," the security officer said kindly, gesturing towards Madison.

Harry forced a smile, his heart racing with anxiety. "Of course, no problem."

"Hey, Maddy-moo," Harry cooed, crouching down to unclasp the straps holding her in the stroller. "We just need to go through security real quick, then we can get moving again."

But Madison wasn't having it. As soon as Harry began to lift her out, she protested loudly, pushing his hands away and crying out in frustration.

"Hey, s’okay, pickle," Harry reassured her, trying to remain calm despite the rising tension. "We just need to do this real quick, then we'll be on our way."

But Madison's cries only grew louder, her tiny fists clenched as she threw her head back in distress. Harry could feel the weight of people's stares, their curious glances making him feel even more uncomfortable and self-conscious.

"Everything alright over here?" another security officer asked, approaching them with concern.

Harry nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Yeah, she's just a bit tired, that's all. sorry.”

As Harry placed Madison on the ground for a moment to fold down the stroller, he felt a knot of unease tighten in his stomach. He knew Madison was tired, but her behavior seemed beyond mere exhaustion.

As he straightened up, he noticed with a sinking heart that she had darted back through the security lines, her tiny figure disappearing into the crowd.

"Madison! No, sweetheart, come back!" Harry called out desperately, his voice tinged with panic. He quickly folded the stroller and abandoned it, pushing past startled travelers as he raced after his daughter.

"Sorry, sorry," Harry muttered apologetically as he pushed his way through the crowded terminal, his heart pounding in his chest. He finally caught sight of Madison, several yards ahead, running as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"Madison, stop!" Harry commanded sternly, his voice tinged with frustration as he closed the distance between them. "Y’shouldn't have run off like that. S’not safe!"

But Madison paid no heed to his words. She kicked and squirmed in his arms, her cries piercing the air as she pushed at his face in defiance.

"Madison, enough!" Harry's voice was firm now, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed her hands to stop her flailing, his grip firm but gentle.

“If y’donf behave yourself then we’re going back home,” he parented, stopping her hands from hitting his face once again. “Do y’understand, daddy?”

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn #dad!harry #dadrry

[dark-and-kawaii]

I love soft Haarlep and I do love your parent!Haarlep stuff but I can't help but wonder about the angst that would come from Soft!Haarlep realizing that Tav is pregnant with their child, ie a cambion (DND lore states cambion births that stem from a human mother x devil/incubus/etc always results in the mother's death).

₊˚⊹♡ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀʀɪꜰɪᴄ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ. ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ ɪꜱ ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.

⋆˙⟡♡ Angst | Pregnancy | Soft Haarlep ♡

Haarlep’s usual guise of cruelty softened into something almost human as they watched you sleep, your chest rising and falling with the innocent rhythm of peaceful slumber. Oblivious to Haarlep’s unexpected worry. The incubus was always known for their merciless nature, feasting upon souls and taking whatever it is they wished without a care for the other’s wellbeing… But you… You were different.

Haarlep’s gaze drifted, lingering on the delicate features of your face before trailing down to your still flat abdomen. Inside you, unbeknownst to you, a new life was taking root. A life that Haarlep could sense with a clarity that cursed their very being...

Haarlep had always threatened to breed you, to knock you up with their demon spawn to show all of hell and Faerun that you belonged to them, once enslaved incubus, a lowly creature…

Closing their eyes, Haarlep realizes their very nature had gotten the best of them. That their very threat had come to fruition and with each beat of your heart, a silent countdown to your demise had begun…

The knowledge was a blade to Haarlep’s darkened heart. Incubi, like them, were no strangers to the fatal toll their offspring could exact on mortal lovers. History whispered of rare survivals, like Tasha the witch queen, who bore the children of Grazzt and lived to tell the tale. But you were not her. You were just some adventurer, who had gotten tangled with Raphael, which led you inadvertently into Haarlep’s embrace.

If this spawn was anything like a full blooded incubus, your mortal body would have trouble handling such a pregnancy. You could very well die trying to bring it into this world… If you even carried the spawn long enough for that to become an issue. The youngling may take you by surprise in the night and tear through you, feasting upon your very soul as it left your body.

With a heavy breath, Haarlep’s lashes fluttered back open as they placed their large hand gently on your stomach. They could only stare at it as memories flooded their mind of when you whispered dreams of carrying their offspring, begging for their threats of breeding to come true, wishing to feel your own belly swollen with a little mini Haarlep... You had smiled so brightly then… A smile they wished to keep to themselves… Haarlep wondered if that would be the last time they would ever see such a sight… Their favorite treat, always eager for a taste of the them… Always so loyal to them…

The incubus’s eyes began to harden…

A deep growl rumbled from within Haarlep, the sound echoing around the room as they thought of all the ways this could go horribly wrong. All the ways your precious mortal life could end.

The growing soul within you had to go. It must.

You were theirs. You were not supposed to be taken away from them…

They couldn't lose you.

Not you.

As they leaned down and pressed their lips against your stomach. It was a kiss, tender and loving, so out of place from their usual rough manner. Haarlep lingered there, lips brushing against the warm skin, feeling the flutter of your heartbeat underneath the softness of your flesh.

You were theirs.

Not Raphael's, not any other fiend or demon who thought they could get a claim on you.

Just Haarlep's.

Kelemvor, death itself, wouldn’t have you... Haarlep would seize the offspring, tearing it from your flesh with merciless hands if necessary…

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #haarlep #haarlep x tav #haarlep bg3 #haarlep x reader #raphael the cambion #bg3 Raphael