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b00kdiary · 4 months

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Dreamer | Rhysand (I)

Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand begrudgingly goes to Hewn City to secure a marriage pact that will indefinitely bond the two Courts together- but the fine ladies of the Court of Nightmares are not what he wants or needs.

Instead, he discovers Lady Y/N, and she has no qualms about telling him how he has failed this City and her. This is more than just coincidence, it’s fate.

Warnings: long chapters, mature content (18 +) swearing, eventual smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"High Lord, Rhysand of the Night Court."

I reach the top of the dais as my name is announced, my footsteps echoing against the polished floor and the sound bounces through the room, through the tense silence. No one speaks, they barely breathe, as I slowly turn, my face a sheet of ice as I settle onto my throne.

I let a nonchalant smile tug at my lips, the dark mask of a tyrant slipping into place as I eye the endless room before me. A macabre and dreary setting with its ebony walls and onyx ceiling, the beasts carved into the cavernous stone a mirror to the type of Fae who lived in this City.

I emulate the darkness as I lean back, my long legs spreading apart and my fingers curling into the engraved snake form that curves around the throne, the head peering out over my shoulder, my own personal monster.

I cock my head at the dozens of males before me, Council Members, my violet eyes twinkling in amusement as they all remained bowed, knees pressed to the floor, heads lowered and waiting for my word.

"You may rise," I drawl, my tone the picture of boredom, and as Kier and his peers rise to their feet, I see the apprehension and distaste on their faces for me, for my inner circle. Kier observes me, his brown eyes flickering at the prolonged silence. "Kier?"

"As usual, it is an honour to have you here, High Lord," Kier inclines his head, scurrying forward as he speaks, his own mask of reverence slipping into place as he stops before me. "As the steward of Hewn City, I am delighted by your decision to unite our two Courts through marriage, as are the Council present here today."

I see the way my Court stiffens, Mor, Cassian and Azriel all flanked at the bottom of the dais seem to go unnaturally still, the stones in their eyes wholly- unable to hide their disapproval of this whole arrangement.

"We all have our duties, Kier, the Court must always come first," My lips tilt in a mocking smile, and Kier shrivels under the tendrils of dark power that dance around me, an omnipresent threat so at odds with my amused gaze, "My marriage to a Lady of Hewn City will be a victory for us all."

Marriage.

The word tastes like poison on my tongue, any hopes and dreams I had once harboured turning to ash in my mouth at the cold reality I was faced with. To marry a female, I didn't know or love, to mate with her and sire a child, and secure an alliance with the Court of Nightmares indefinitely.

Heavy is the head that bears the crown indeed.

"It will be an alliance venerated for generations to come, I'm sure," Kier smiles, an ugly, wretched sight and I saw Mor shiver in my peripheral, an imperceptible movement, a conditioned reaction to her father. "High Lord, may I introduce to you the fine ladies selected by the Council."

I brace myself, masking my dread with an entertained smirk, drawing on the worst parts of myself, the worst parts of this place to hide the male that roared in warning to me inside. A click of doors opening at my left, and then several soft footsteps echoing into the chamber.

I stare, unyielding and silent, as several young women stride into the room, their heads bowed and back straight, adorned with fine clothes and finer jewellery as they stop at the foot of the dais before me.

They were fine, lovely even, tall, and thin, typical of High Fae female beauty and yet, despite their soft smiles and delicate frames, I frown.

"You can't be serious, even you wouldn't be this cruel," Mor releases a horrified, tight breath and both Cassian and Azriel step forward in unison, an impenetrable wall, as Kier's eyes turn to Mor and his lip curls. "These 'fine ladies' are girls, children, how old are they?"

The room shifted at her sharp words, Kier tensing at the accusation and the males of the Council muttering amongst themselves, their eyes burning as they glared at my cousin- at her supposed insolence for speaking out of turn.

"Their age is of little significance, girl," Kier sneers, that simpering fool mask he wore melting into revulsion and anger as he took in his outcasted daughter. My fingers curled around the throne under me as he spoke, that pit of darkness inside me churning. "They have all had their first bleed-"

"Cauldron," Cassian swore, his dark hair shifting as he moved his gaze over to those girls, and I saw his throat bob at the sight- so young, broken, pawns moved and used in a game of power.

"You're disgusting," Mor hissed, and I heard the pain clawing at her throat, her face pulled into a devastated frown as she took in those girls- and it was as if she were looking into a mirror, to the girl she had once been. "These girls are not chattel; you cannot sell their innocence for your own gain-"

"These ladies are being honoured, girl, an honour that you will never understand," Kier snarled, his emphasis on honour so clear, an indirect assault on Mor's character, on the choice she made to free herself. "To marry the High Lord is a privilege, one these ladies are eager for-"

Azriel's shadows thrum around him, restless, wild, and I knew his control was wearing thin the longer Kier spoke, the longer those girls stood before us, trembling under the burden on their shoulders.

"Enough." One word, low and sinister, and every mouth in the room closed, every Fae in the room turned utterly still at the command.

I grit my teeth, letting the furious power within me radiate into the room, let it dance through the air, brush against my subjects, let them feel the warning, the threat, that I was. I smile as their faces pale, flinching back from the vile magic, a reminder that I could destroy them without even lifting a hand.

"Kier, I am going to choose to believe that this decision was made out of sheer stupidity rather than insolence," My voice is a calm storm, but my eyes- they rage with a current of violence and death, the kind that made males twice my age blanche- and they do. "I will choose to believe that you did not invite me here to waste my time- you wouldn't dare be so foolish, would you Kier?"

I shifted forward in my seat, my eyes narrowing down at the male, and it took all the restraint in me not to shatter every bone in his body, to not pluck his eyes from his head and tear his tongue from his mouth- and he sees that desire to inflict pain upon him in my gaze.

"Never, High Lord, I would not dream of-" Kier barely contains his stuttering words, a mixture of fear, indignation and humiliation lacing through his widening gaze, but like the worm he was, he bowed his head to me in remorse. "It was a grave misjudgement, one that will not be repeated again."

"Good- I desire to sire a child, Kier, not marry one," I sneer, my disgust prevalent across every hard inch of my face as I turn from Kier, moving my eyes across every last council member, "Just as I am sure you all agree, these girls have many more years left to enjoy their youth, yes?"

I make the threat clear in my words, make them clear in my eyes- touch these girls and die.

None oppose me, their hearts hammering in their chests as they nod their head in agreement, subservient and controlled- and a small kernel of satisfaction fills me, that they felt a fraction of what the girls before me did.

"Kier, join me in the Council Room," I stand from my chaise, and as if it were muscle memory, every single person in the room falls to a knee and drops their heads as I descend the stairs. "Let us discuss the consequences you'll all face should you disappoint me again."

***

"Y/N, a union between the High Lord and a Lady of Hewn City is exactly the chance we've been waiting for," Cassandra pestered, her wide eyes pleading with me, but I ignored her again, choosing to instead clean the Council Room for the next meeting with haste. "It's a chance for change."

"Who are you trying to convince, Cassie- me or yourself?" I mutter, raising a dark brow at her as I tuck in the oak chairs, shoving them into place harder than was needed. "This marriage is a farce, and you're deluding yourself by thinking otherwise."

Cassie groans, the sound reverberating through the empty room, and I try to not laugh at her as she rushes around the endless table, her sea-blue eyes rolling as she stops beside me.

"Why must you be such a pessimist?" Cassie demands, her cold, slim fingers ripping the papers from my hand and slamming them onto the table before me. "With a lady from our Court married to the High Lord, we can finally hope, we will have someone on our side- to help us, to fix this Cauldron-forsaken City-"

"And who would that be?" I scoff out a laugh, a bitter, hollow sound as I turn my hard gaze to her, strands of my loose hair brushing my hot cheeks as I move, "Thanatos's daughter despises the Court of Dreams, Kier's nieces care more about fine jewels and clothes than people, and the other daughters are afraid of their own shadows, they would shit themselves at the sight of the High Lord and his inner circle."

Cassie purses her lips at my harsh words, and I frown, sighing deeply at the look of dejection on her lovely face, hating myself for snuffing out the light that had filled her eyes. But it had to be done- some people were not meant to dream.

"I'm sorry, Cassie, I know you wish it were otherwise, I do too," I force back the lump in my throat as I turn from her, hating the way my lip trembled and my hands felt weak, "But this marriage will benefit nobody but the High Lord, his court, and the males of the Council- that's it. They have never and will never care, there is no one on our side but us."

Silence fills the room at my hoarse dead words, and the reality of them, the reality that we were truly and irrevocably stuck in this life, in this cycle of hell made my eyes burn.

"It saddens me that you feel that way, My Lady," A deep, velvety voice rasped from behind me, and the air went taut at the unfathomable power that penetrated the room.

Cassandra gasped, something spilling from her hand and dropping to the floor with a deafening crunch. My stomach twists into knots as I brace myself, all the blood leeching from my face as I turn- to where the High Lord stood, his inner circle and Kier watching on either side.

"High Lord," Cassie choked on the title, choked on her fear and before the male before us could speak, she stumbled down to a knee, her head bowed and her golden hair falling forward to shield the terror on her face.

I couldn't move, not even as the voice inside me screamed and begged for me to bow, to submit myself to him- for I had heard stories of Rhysand.

Of his abilities as a Daemati, able to shatter a person's mind without lifting a hand, of his ruthlessness as High Lord, reducing people to ash with a smile on his lovely face, of all the horrific things he had done in his five hundred years of existence.

And it seemed he saw it on my face, perhaps even saw it in my mind, the nightmares and tales, the horrors spread about him in the City, about the kind of male he was.

His violet gaze narrowed, the constellations in them beaming as he stared at me, as he cocked his head, his lips pursed into a thin line- as if observing me. I shook under the silent act, the unyielding hold he had over me, as well as the gazes of his court at his side.

"Y/N!" Cassie hissed under her breath, her head turning and her silver-lined eyes meeting mine, tears sullying the usually tranquil blue as she pleaded with me to move, to bow.

"Insolent girl," Kier spat, his gaze hard as he glared at me and the breath caught in my lungs as a dark eclipse of magic shot from him, striking against my stomach, hard enough that I lurched forward in pain and then another hit a second later, slamming into my jaw. "Bow before your High Lord."

I groaned as I fell to a knee, the impact of the bone against the polished floor striking through my whole leg and up my body, but that was nothing compared to the throb that burned through my stomach and the cut at my lip, the taste of metal filling my mouth.

I heard a gasp, a feminine sound of surprise and concern from above me as I leaned forward, my eyes pinched shut and every breath feeling like glass in my lungs as I tried to compose myself- forcing down the pain in my jaw, in my stomach, in my heart.

I heard footsteps and then the room went still, as if a blanket of ice had fallen over us.

"High Lord, she-she was being impudent-" Begging and broken words, riddled with fear and my eyes shot open at the sound of a sickening crunch, an agonised scream following it, and the aura of death filling the space.

"No, you are impudent, Kier," That voice again, but now it sounded different- the kind of mercilessness that could haunt a person's nightmares, that could be found in the darkest hollows of hell. "You do not touch her, or any other female, ever."

Another crunch and I recognise the sound now, it was bones splintering, tendons tearing, blood gushing and Kier cried out again, a horrible, strangled sound.

"Leave," The High Lord breathed the command, and I felt the floor shake under his restraint like he was funnelling his power down into the ground as an anchor. "and do not heal that hand, I want you to remember my words today, Kier."

I keep my head low, staring at the floor, unable to look up as footsteps bound away, fast and stumbling and I cringe at the sight of blood leaking against the floor, a trail following after Kier as he exits the room.

And despite the tendrils of pain still wrecking through me- I internally groaned at the thought of having to clean the blood up.

An amazed huff of air left the High Lord, it sounded almost like a laugh, but I didn't dare raise my head. Not even as he slowly sauntered over, his footsteps deliberate and slow, I didn't even look up when that trail of blood vanished, magicked away, leaving behind not even a stain in memory.

He stopped before me, and my heart thrummed so loud I knew they could all hear it.

"My Lady," Rhysand murmured, his voice soft now, like a caress of wind against my skin. I swallow down the bitter taste in my mouth, my eyes fluttering as I lift my head- to see the hand he had reaching down for me. "Please, rise."

I blink at the outreached hand, heat filling my cheeks at Rhysand's tender gaze, any whisper of violence or darkness gone, replaced by something so much sweeter. I gnaw on my cheek, my hand sweating and shaking as I reach forward, gently placing my palm in his.

The second our hands connect, something charges through me, bright and sharp and strong and for a second Rhysand's eyes widen, just for a second, but then he blinks at it's gone- as if I had imagined it.

"Thank you, High Lord," I breathe and his fingers curl firmly around my palm as I wince, my knees shaking and knocking as I rise to my feet. He whispers something gently under his breath, his head glancing sideways, and I sigh when Cassandra rises too, her slender frame curling back as she stands.

I crane my neck to meet Rhysand's eyes, and upon seeing my face, seeing the cut leaking blood at my lip, his expression hardens. He still hadn't let go of my hand, his large, ringed fingers still gripping around me like a vice, calming the trembling shakes that ran through me.

"I apologise for Kier's actions," Rhysand sighed, his dark lashes fluttering as he slowly slipped his hand from mine, moving to the pocket of his jacket, his fingers pulling free the cloth there. My hand felt cold as it fell back to my side, but as Rhysand lifted the cloth between his fingers, my head hazed.

I didn't breathe, couldn't, as Rhysand gently brushed the soft cloth against the cut at my lip, soaking the material with blood and being so careful that I didn't even feel the pain stinging at the touch. I feel the surprised stare of Cassie at my side, of his family at his back, but nothing deterred Rhysand.

"I should be the one to apologise, High Lord," I stutter, finally feeling like I can breathe as he pulls his hand away, and I blink away the fog, clearing my throat as I step back, as I let the bubble, he created around us pop. "I spoke out of turn, and I should have bowed-"

"You don't need to apologise for your honesty or anything else," He shook his head, the soft waves of his blue-black hair shifting with the movement, and I forced myself to not stare at every inch of his handsome face. "I don't punish Ladies for words spoken in earnest between friends."

I nod, uncertainty and weariness shining in my gaze as I take in his intense half-smile, a smile that seems to brighten when I glance at Cassandra, looking equally as confused as me, and I shrug weakly.

"Though I will admit I am rather taken aback by your words, Lady Y/N," I shiver at the sound of my name on his silver tongue, at the way he cocked his head down at me, a purely predatory move, as he spoke. "I would like to hear more of your thoughts on the matter."

Hear my thoughts?

I go still at his easy words, at the question rather than a command, and Cassie releases a puff of air- like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room to placate her aching lungs.

"What?" I croak and then wince at the insolence behind my words, a habit that I couldn't shake in front of the High Lord. I pinch my eyes shut at the way his lip quirks, and my embarrassment is worsened by the small chuckle that General Cassian huffs out. "I mean- I'm not sure that's-"

"Now, now- don't go all shy on me, My Lady," Rhysand purred, nonchalance highlighted in every inch of his muscled form as he tucked the cloth back into his pocket and grinned at me, like a lion before devouring a lamb. "I think we're past the point of formalities, yes?"

***

"There is no one on our side but us."

The words were so hollow and defeated, the type of ruined that spoke of no hopes, dreams, or future, just nothing. And it was hard to explain what I felt at the words, like a sharp pain as if she had reached into my chest and torn out my heart with her bare hand.

She said that they have never and will never care- 'they' being me, my court, the people around me now and the ones left behind in my City of Starlight.

Sincere words, loaded words, spoken by a female behind closed doors, in confidence to her friend- and yet, I had overheard.

I wasn't sure what to expect when stepping into this room and wasn't sure what kind of female I would be confronted with. I had anticipated a female full of loathing and darkness, a kind of anger that would burn in her eyes, that could be seen through every breath she took, in every inch of her skin as she moved.

And yet, as I stared at the girl before me, I was met with the exact opposite.

The other lady, Cassandra, had become a shaking mess the second her blue eyes laid upon me, her breaths gasping from her as if everyone would be the last. She was terrified because that was all she knew in this city; it was all she knew of me.

But Lady Y/N was different- she was frightened by me, yes, I saw it in her doe-like eyes, saw it in the memories that flashed through her mind of me, the tales of my cruelty and brutality, the blood that stained my hands and the darkness that tainted my heart.

But she didn't look away, as if she couldn't.

Here she was faced with a monster that mothers warned their children about, yet she stared at me as if she saw me- and was as beguiled by me as I was by her.

"Now, now- don't go all shy on me, My Lady," I smile, the tightness in my chest easing as a stain tints her plump cheeks, and her chocolate eyes widen, "I think we're past the point of formalities, yes?"

Her friend swallows, audible and thick, as if struggling to get down air and Azriel shifts on his feet, his brow furrowed as if concerned the girl might collapse. Y/N glances at her, and amusement fills me at the small, confused shrug she gives her.

"You won't uh-" She clears her throat, her hand coming up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, and I watch every single movement as she tucks the silken strand over a perfectly arched ear, revealing the smooth column of her neck. "You won't turn me to dust, right?"

I snort, a short and amazed sound, and she gnaws on her lip, avoiding the cut there and I have to begrudgingly tear my gaze away when my court steps forward, my brothers half-smiling and Mor looking at Y/N as if she was as charmed by her as I was.

"No, no, Lady Y/N," My mask slips and slips until it's completely gone, and I'm glad that Kier left, glad that none but her saw me like this because it felt freeing, to be in this Cauldron-forsaken place and be able to genuinely smile. "No one will be turned to dust, on my honour as High Lord."

"Please do tell us," Mor steps forward, a small smile on her red-pained lips and Y/N's breath hitches at the eyes on her, at the attention. "Contrary to what you may think, we do care."

Y/N considers, and I can hear her heart hammering in her chest, fast and loud and endless, but despite that she lifts her chin and something raw runs through me at the look in her eyes- the bravery.

"I- I think that Hewn City is a cesspit, full of the worst kind of Fae and every amoral despicable thing a person could do happens here," She breathes, and her soft body trembles with the exhale, as if speaking these words aloud were exactly the catharsis she needed. "And to be honest, I blame you for that."

Surprise- it fills me and every single other person in the room.

"Y/N!" Cassandra gasps, and her eyes seem to widen further, impossibly big, latching onto me and full of pleading, "She doesn't mean that- she must be more delirious than anticipated from the-"

"Cassie, please," Y/N scoffs, a hollow and low sound, and the tension in the air goes thick as they glance at each other. "Someone needs to say it, it might as well be me."

I fold my arms across my chest, my lips pursing as they stare at each other, some internal telepathic conflict waging between them, in their eyes and despite my abilities, despite the fact, that it would be so easy for me to slip into their minds and wade through all their thoughts, I don't.

I glanced back at my Court, who stood just behind me, and their faces were contemplative too- not angry, nor offended, but shocked- here was this girl, no older than twenty, with eyes as soft as a doe's, telling us exactly how we have failed.

"Please, continue," I nod, and I hope my eyes are encouraging, because even if I do not wish to hear her words, she was right, they needed to be said and I needed to hear them.

"For centuries, the Court of Nightmares and the Court of Dreams have been segregated and somehow we've fallen into two categories: good and bad," She swallows, and something aches in my chest at the sorrow on her lovely face, the burden, "But no one is born bad, people aren't inherently evil but growing up in a place like this? What else is there but the horrors we see and endure, what else are we destined to become?"

Another shaky inhale, a more broken exhale, and my magic burn inside me as if every desperate breath from her is like a call and my body is begging in answer.

"Your court has washed their hands of us, all of us because it was easier to believe that we were all damned than to try to help- the small minority have ruined the majority," Silver lines her hardening gaze, and I feel us all, every single one of us, go tense at the single tear that trickled down her cheek.

I hear a strangled sound come from behind me and my burning gaze glances back- to Mor, tears brimming her eyes and her lips trembling, watching the girl before us, and feeling every single atom of hurt as if it were her own.

"Morrigan was lucky enough to escape this City, these people because she had you- but do you truly think that she is the only good person born here, that in all these years, she is the only one worthy of salvation?"

More tears leak down Mor's face and Y/N's, endless, eternal, years of suffering in one single moment and I feel the guilt of my actions barrel down at me, a truth that I have spent years avoiding coming to light, like a thunderbolt to the heart.

I let my magic hold me down, let it root me in my spot- because those tears on her cheeks are tormenting me, ruining me, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and brush them away.

"So, forgive me if I have no hope left, that died in me, in all of us, long ago," Y/N clears her throat, her chest rising and falling in powerful waves and my throat is as dry as sand as she wipes the tears from her cheeks, "I- I think we could have all been dreamers- if only you had given us the chance."

In five hundred years, the mask I wore never slipped, never faltered, never was hard to wear- until right now. Right now, as my gaze locked with her, as I saw all the horrors she endured, because of my neglect, I couldn't even find that mask within me- it was gone.

There's silence, heavy and long and burdensome for what feels like hours as I stare at her, and I don't think I could look away even if I wanted to do and I don't, I don't want to.

Y/N inhales a sharp breath as I stalk towards her and the magic in me dances and whirls and strikes through the air, dark and ominous and wholly powerful. My jaw locks as she grabs out to her friend, Cassandra whimpering as Y/N yanks the girl behind her- a shield, against me.

Brave- so utterly brave. Willing to face off with a male five hundred years her senior and her High Lord, to protect her friend.

A Queen in her own right.

I stop before her, so close that I feel her breasts brush my chest, feel the small trembles that wreck through her body, can smell the lavender and jasmine on her perfect skin. She raises her eyes to me, and I see every ounce of her character, her heart and soul, as she tries to not cower before me.

"How old are you, My Lady?" I mutter, and she shivers under my easy words, her brow furrowing at the non-threat. "And what do you do here, your role?"

"Twenty-one, High Lord." She swallows, her tongue flicking out nervously to wet her lips and my hands clench at the sight, at the moisture on her pink mouth. "My father was Captain of an import chain for the City, I was given the role of Lady-in-waiting as a reward for his work."

I sense the curiosity and shock of my court behind me, the way they imperceptibly inch closer to me, to us, drawn in by my words- by the intention behind them.

"You believe the alliance is a farce, that it wouldn't change anything?" I ask, softer, and my power slips from me, curling around her curved hips and soft thighs, moving through her silken hair and over her sensitive skin- and she shakes her head, unable to speak. "What if I were to find a Lady of Hewn City who shared your sentiments, who desired for change and salvation just as you do- would that make you more inclined to hope?"

Cassandra sucked in a sharp breath, her blue eyes widening- in realisation. And I felt the air tauten, my inner circle going still, knowingly.

But Y/N cocked her head, a youthful move, not seeing what was right in front of her.

"Yes, I think that you marrying a Lady who genuinely cares for this City and its people would be a step in the right direction," She considers, and I can't fight my smile at the tender, sincere, confusion that pinches her lovely face. "Thought I seriously doubt you will find any such female here."

"Hm," A lazy grin stretches across my face, bright and sure, drawing from the feeling blooming in my chest, raw and new and terrifying as I stare down at her, "I already have."

"High Lord? I don't understand-" Her words melt into a gasp as my fingers caress her cheek, moving ever so gently against that sore cut at her lip- and satisfaction fills me when her eyes flutter, a breathy sound slipping from her.

"I have already found the perfect Lady to marry," Her face burns as I run my eyes languidly down her figure, across her entire face and body- and she stills as realisation fills her, "All you have to do is say yes, Y/N darling."

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yandere-daydreams · 4 months

Text

Title: Idol Worship.

Pairing: Yandere!Devil x Reader (Christianity).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Consensual Sex, Size Difference, Implied (Past) Injury To Reader, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Scarring, and Themes of Religious Trauma.

The path to His throne was paved with salt and brimstone.

Smoldering rock burnt into the soles of your feet like ember, taken fresh from the heart of the fire. Living corpses, their rotting flesh deteriorating further with ever fraught breath, laid motionless on either side of the crumbling archway, their milky eyes watching your every stumbling movement. The air was heavy with smoke and sulfur, but the buzzling of unseen insects, the stench of the decay – that was all kept in your peripheral. It was meant for someone else, someone whose crimes were far more violent and far more damning than your own. Your fate was elsewhere.

The ascent was made no easier by your anticipation, the steps carved from black onyx and made steep enough to warrant your immediate and self-inflicted dehumanization, to force you to your hands and knees in your effort to scramble upward – ever upward, as if you hadn’t yet had enough of the blinding sky. Rough granite tore into the skin of your palms, but the agony was minimal, a shadow something greater that would not numb you to more intentional agony. The heat, too, was distant, rolling over you in tender waves and seeping under your skin to coil around your ribs, to weave in and out of ragged tears in your mutilated veins. Something snapped inside your chest as you finished your climb, fresh blood washing over your aching throat, but any pain you might’ve felt faded away as a great hand descended from the clouds of smog and ash, His calloused fingertips digging into your waist, your stomach as He took you up and placed you, gingerly, on His silk-clad thigh. His touch lingered, a thumb running over your scalp as He spoke. “Oh, my glorious one,” His voice was deep and flat and beautiful. “What have they done to you?”

Anything they could. Everything they could. Your body was still plagued with the phantoms of it, the frigid cold of steel and iron against flesh and bone. You tried to speak, but your voice was gone, muted by means beyond your own. You frowned, more frustrated than you were surprised, but He did not share in your disappointment. “They are sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.” After a beat, He added, “I will not be so forgiving.”

His hand began to pull away, but you scrambled after of it, latching onto His wrist in a futile effort to hold Him that much closer. An airy chuckle fell from Him unmoving muzzle – His golden, slit-pupiled eyes remaining focused on some distant point as He took you into His hold once again, lifting you first to His own height. For the first time, he moved in earnest – tilting his head forward and resting his forehead against yours. “The reason the Son appeared was to destroy the Devil’s work, for the thief comes only to steal and destroy.” His breath was cool against your skin, even as anger seeped into His tone. “And now, instead, you are asked to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.”

It was more of a croak than a proper plea, hoarse and fractured at all the wrong angles. Still, you managed it, your own small hands pressed into the swell of His palm. “Please, my lamb.”

He seemed to catch himself, inhaling sharply as He shook His head. “My apologies, I forget my audience. You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.” You nuzzled closer to Him, and He allowed you a moment of solace before pulling away, straightening Himself to His most dignified stature. “We have been separated for no short time. Tell me, will you not gratify the desires of the flesh?” A note of humor, a forked tongue allowed to skirt gingerly over your neck. “Will you not allow me to show the length of my devotion?”

You didn’t need to answer, it was a given that you would. His delicate tongue ran over the lacerations on your calves, your thighs - smearing dried blood and soothing open wounds. It flicked upward, lapping at the twin scars on either side of your chest, then the bruises painted across your collarbones, around the base of your throat. His hand shifted, wrapping around your waist, His hold firm and steady as He lowered you onto his length. There were other options – as many shapes and variations as a lustful heart could dream of – but His cock was among His most impressive features. The shaft alone matched your arm in length and your midriff in girth, and yet, it pierced you without resistance, filling you to the brim before He was so much as half-sheathed inside of you. Your knees pressed into his lap, your hand grasping for purchase against his broad chest, but you felt no fear, nor was your exertion necessary in the face of His willingness to serve. He let out a raspy breath, allowing His head to lull back as He thrust gently into you from below. “Earthly one, glorious one,” The pet name fell from His lips like milk and butter and honey. “We will lead each other astray. We will be the force by which the greatest love is defined.”

A growl of a moan as your walls clenched around Him, a sharp snap of His hips. “We will be bound together in perfect harmony,” His hand found the underside of your chin, tilting your head back with only the upmost delicacy. “And those who try to separate us will face only the most just of retribution.”

Your eyes met His, that wonderous gold melting into softened mortality. Where there should have been revulsion, there was only warmth, only light. Foolishly, for a moment, you allowed yourself to scorn the shine of the heavens, to loathe all things that were not Him.

You allowed yourself to believe that you would need nothing else, not so long as His gaze fell upon you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere god #yandere demon #yanderecore #yancore

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yenneferdivengerberg · 7 months

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"When the fire died at last and the ground became cool enough to walk upon, Ser Jorah Mormont found her amidst the ashes, surrounded by blackened logs and bits of glowing ember and the burnt bones of man and woman and stallion. She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away… yet she was unhurt. The cream-and-gold dragon was suckling at her left breast, the green-and-bronze at the right. Her arms cradled them close. The black-and-scarlet beast was draped across her shoulders, its long sinuous neck coiled under her chin. When it saw Jorah, it raised its head and looked at him with eyes as red as coals. Wordless, the knight fell to his knees. The men of her khas came up behind him. Jhogo was the first to lay his arakh at her feet. “Blood of my Blood,” he murmured, pushing his face to the smoking earth. “Blood of my Blood,” she heard Aggo echo. “Blood of my Blood,” Rakharo shouted. And after them came her handmaids, and then the others, all the Dothraki, men and women and children, and Dany had only to look at their eyes to know that they were hers now, today and tomorrow and forever, hers as they had never been Drogo’s. As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons."

DAENERYS TARGARYEN in Game of Thrones 1.10: "Fire and Blood"

#targaryensource #userbecca #useralessia #usergal #tusergabriela #tusercarla #usersameera #userlenna #usersaoirse #gameofthornesdaily #iheartgot #gotdaenerystargaryen #daenerys targaryen #filmtvcentral #tvarchive #emilia clarke #daenerystargaryenedit #dt #creations

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xiaosonlybeloved · 1 year

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Of Flowers and Death~ -Hanahaki AU

fem! reader x Zhongli, Zhongli x Guizhong, implied Zhongli x Lumine

warnings:- angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, graphic descriptions of blood and violence. (lemme know if i missed anything) length-2.8k words a/n:- Mmm yes my favorite oneshot till date. stay till the end for that juicy angst haha (i have been writing for over two hours everything hurts but its worth it) Likes comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, and do check out my childe smau too!

Edit:- there is a sequel now- Regret, Guilt, Anguish

masterlist

“Oh..” you murmured in less than a whisper. You were hidden behind a few rocks; you had come to meet Morax, the god of Liyue, but your dearest friend, Guizhong, was already there with him, and it looked like they were having a moment. You couldn’t help but want to listen in, because after all it was Morax who you had loved for most of your life.

You were a foreigner to Liyue; you came from Inazuma. But you weren’t any ordinary Inazuman. You were the third and youngest of the Raiden sisters, who ruled over Inazuma itself. No one other than the archons knew about your existence, because Ei and Makoto kept you a secret, protected. Although not many knew, there had indeed been a few attempts on the lives of the Raiden sisters, and this was what they wanted to protect you from.

After you had a few centuries of battle experience and training under your bag, you were allowed to explore the world. You were not tied down with the duties of ruling Inazuma. Naturally, you attracted the attention of the gods, each one of them remarking on how you inherited all the characteristic features of the Raidens.

Only the heavens above knew how you managed to become the best friend of one of the major gods, and that too Morax. But he was the reason you chose to settle down in Liyue. As time passed, your feelings for Morax, also called Zhongli by his friends, also grew more than platonic.

Now see, you knew Morax was something of a blockhead when it came to feelings. So you didn’t think much when Morax kept sending you mixed signals. You both were immortal gods after all, you had all the time in the world. You continued to hopelessly fool yourself, thinking that just perhaps, there was a chance of him loving you back.

Then came the goddess of Dust, Guizhong. A minor goddess she was, but a wonderful one. It didn’t take her too long to make her way into everyone’s hearts, including yours and Zhongli’s. While you both quickly grew into fast friends, there was just one thing that constantly irked you. Just one. It was the way she quickly grew so incredibly close to Zhongli.’

You knew that Guizhong fancied Zhongli; she confessed it to you yourself. You were forced to merely plaster a fake smile upon your face and laugh her words off.

That brought you to this day: watching Guizhong confess to Zhongli. And the amount of heartbreaking anguish when Zhongli accepted with a smile, pulling her in close, after having remained oblivious to all your advances over the decades…. It was just… You couldn’t handle it. It was too much.

You quietly sneaked away as soon as possible. And then.. And then came the coughs and the bloodstained petals. Being from Inazuma, you knew all about it of course. Hanahaki. Needless to say, you were horrified. Since that day, you somewhat avoided the duo on the pretext of the ongoing Archon War. It was here that you showed your true battle prowess as a Raiden. You alone decimated entire armies of the enemies, leaving not even ashes.

The war went on for months. You lost many allies in fighting to ensure that Makoto and Morax got seats in the Seven. Till sundown you fought without relent, showing that even a beauty can be dangerous. At night, you gave your fallen comrades the proper, respectful farewell they deserved. By now, only the last few contenders for the heavenly thrones were left. The last opponent for Morax was the ocean god, Osial, in Guyun Stone Forest, and his followers. Recognising the serious threat he posed, you did agree to team up with Morax to eliminate him. The path for Morax to become an archon would then become clear. Through experience, you both knew that you two together were a formidable force.

The battle was a long and exhausting one. You both started at sunrise, and barely managed to subdue him by sundown, having understood that even with their combined power, they would not be able to kill Osial. You both went back to your makeshift camp, looking forward to just resting for the night. Thank the gods you had very few coughing fits during the battle.

And yet, the moment you stepped past the protected borders, you felt that familiar eerie chill that crept up your spine. The heavy silence that hung ominously, the one that meant something was dreadfully, terribly wrong. And you were right. You took in the scene. The five Yakshas of Liyue were present, and they seemed to be sealing some sort of hexagonal structure, which was suspended above a figure. And the figure…

Was Guizhong.

Any dislike you harboured towards the Goddess of Dust disappeared as you laid your eyes upon the figure that had been turned to stone. The first and utmost thought in your mind was that something was wrong with your second best friend. Evidently Morax had come to the same conclusion. He let out a strangled sound as you both ran towards what remained of Guizhong. As you both gingerly touched her as if she was made of glass instead of stone, you knew. It was clear- Guizhong was no more.

Despite your stormy emotions, it seemed you were capable of only letting out a few tears. Morax seemed to be physically incapable of crying, yet his emotions were plainly displayed on his face for all to see.

That night, you stayed with Morax, doing your best to comfort him, despite needing comfort yourself. Neither of you had any more tears to shed.

That night, Morax has emerged as one of the Seven with your help, but you both lost Guizhong along the way.

~◈~

2 millenia had passed since the Archon War, and it left its scars on everyone. However, you could be lying if you said that you didn’t feel relieved that Guizhong was out of the way. You also felt guilty for feeling like that. But it was rather funny, how you managed to survive with your hanahaki for 2000 years, while most died within a few months. You supposed the reason was that Morax, who now completely lived as the mortal Zhongli in the Harbor, was seriously the absolute master at giving out mixed signals. He often unknowingly did things that lovers did, giving you hope. Yet that hope gets squashed a few days later, and the cycle continues. In all honesty, the hanahaki wasn’t really a big problem, more like a chronic disease that you had come to accept as a part of your life.

You knew that while Zhongli had mostly recovered by now, he still irrationally blamed himself for Guizhong’s death. You often told him to move on, yet he never said anything. You could see how opposed he was to the idea though. That’s why it was a surprise when he invited you to his office in the funeral parlor right after you returned from Inazuma. You could see on his face that there was something that pleased him. He first enquired about your travels and stuff, then said, “[name], do you remember how you’ve always told me to move on?” “Oh yes. Have you been thinking about that?” “Indeed. Although Guizhong will always have a special place in my heart, I believe that I am now ready to mingle again. I realised recently… that I have feelings for someone new.”

You couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement you felt on hearing those words.Was this finally it? “That’s great Zhongli! Who is it?” “Do you know the Traveler, Lumine? It’s her. I met her a while back, when you were out on your travels. I love her so much.” He proceeded to tell you all about Lumine. He was lovestruck and you could see that. With every word he spoke, you felt your heart drop more into your stomach. You were doomed. Utterly doomed.

All this time, you’d just been deluding yourself, lying to yourself. He had never loved you, and he never would. You were struggling to keep your easy smile glued to your face as yet again, you felt something rise up your throat. You politely managed to excuse yourself, your voice coming out all scratchy and raw. Once you walked out of his cabin, you sprinted towards the confines of your home. By the time you locked yourself in, some petals had already escaped and blood was smeared across your palm.

You were hunched over the sink, which was already full of flowers and blood within a few minutes. It hurt. Everything did, both your body and your broken heart. You knew your impending death was near, because never had your hanahaki been this severe. You couldn’t undergo the surgery because Zhongli was a massive part of your life, and simply forgetting about him would raise a barrage of questions. Plus, you still loved Zhongli too much to forget about him, despite the fact that somewhere deep down, you always knew that he’d never love you back.

~◈~

Your time was very close. The past few days had been spent isolated into the confines of your home, claiming to be exhausted from your latest journey whenever someone came to visit. Funnily enough, today was the day when Zhongli’s former love, and your former best friend, Guizhong, had died. In short, her death anniversary. Seemed it would be yours too.

You usually avoided visiting Guizhong’s memorial and burial site, which was in an isolated cave near Liyue Harbour. However today you thought it was fitting for you to pay your respects to her for the last time. And so, you dragged yourself out in the early morning, before sunrise. You left before anyone could see you, before he could see you.

By the time you are at your destination, your condition has significantly worsened due to the physical strain. It’s all you can do to respectfully place the flowers beside her memorial and lean against the wall. You began to speak to no one in particular in a cracked voice. “Hey Gui…? I hope.. You are at.. Peace… Just know that… I’ve never… hated you.. You’ve always been my.. Best friend.”

“How lucky you were… to be loved by Zhongli.”

Your throat choked up, not because of emotion, but because of another bout of bloody flowers. Not wanting to die there because he would see you, you got yourself out and into another deserted cave just beside. Not the best, but you had no choice. You had merely left a few petals at the entrance of both caves and a faint trail of blood in between.

By now, you had fallen to the ground in searing agony as flower after bloodstained flower forced its way out of your raw throat. You were lying on a bed of the flowers you yourself had coughed out.

How long it had been, you did not know. Perhaps minutes, perhaps hours. You started coughing again, not a moment’s respite. Your life force was almost completely drained. Any moment now.. You would be free.

It was then that you heard a horrified voice ring through the silence. “[Name]!”

~◈~

Zhongli was up at sunrise. Despite his new love, his mood was somber- it was Guizhong’s death anniversary. He had every intention to continue visiting her memorial. As usual, he sought you out. There was a rare chance that if you were in the mood, you would accompany him to pay respects to Guizhong. Yet when he knocked at your door several times and received no response, he chose to leave you alone, despite being slightly worried. You usually did respond at the very least, but he was sure you were alright,

He stopped short in front of the cave which housed Guizhong’s memorial. There was a fresh bouquet of Glaze lilies. But who brought them here? Especially since this place was practically unheard of. He took a few quick steps forward and kneeled down to inspect the bouquet. His heart lurched.

Attached to the bouquet was a small note that said, ‘To my dearest best friend, Guizhong.’ There was no name, but he recognised the handwriting well enough. [name] had already been here. Without him? Was there a reason?

His eyes were drawn to something else too. Relatively new footprints in the soil. And blood.

Blood?

His heavy footsteps echoed in the cave as he quickly walked out, following the faint trail of footprints, blood and petals. They were leading him to a nearby cave. His heart rate accelerated as he heard heavy coughing. And behold the sight that awaited him- an utterly pretty bed of flowers and petals stained in a blood red, and someone coughing while lying on it.

“[Name]!” He cried out, completely horrified.

You curled into yourself even more on hearing his voice. All you wanted was to die in peace, why did he have to make things more difficult? Why did he have to come here? The flowers started choking and constricting your throat on their way up, ever more unrelenting, fueled by the appearance of the one who caused them. It was so hard to breathe… Just a bit more…

You felt yourself being gently lifted into someone’s strong and warm embrace. You weakly met Zhongli’s eyes, which were full of panic. You’d only seen him lose his composure like this once before, his fear more than evident on his face. “[name]- I- What happened? Please, tell me! I- I can’t lose you too!” He exclaimed frantically, feeling your life ebb away second by second, with each cough that released blood and Glaze lilies.

Your throat constricted even more, making it excessively hard to breathe. You just wanted to rest, It was all you could do to force a few broken words from your raw throat.

“...Hana..haki…” That was all Zhongli needed to know to understand. His pupils dilated in fear even more. “Who.. Who is it who made you suffer this way?” Zhongli whispered, unable to take in your completely broken state. You didn’t respond for a few moments, feeling your eyelids shut. You forced them open, not wanting to leave him hanging. “Always.. Loved you.. Always will… Be happy.. For me.. Okay? That is my last wish.” You weakly tried to reach a hand towards Zhongli, who instantly grasped it tightly in hsi, and pressed it against his face, as the realisation hit him like a truck. “What..?” He whispered softly.

Your eyes started to droop again, and you gave in, feeling nothing but qa soft ringing in your ears as your senses dulled. “[name], no, please don’t leave me!” Zhongli cried out in panic, grief and anguish, seeing you slip away from him. You simply let a small smile rest on his face as you whispered, “Just.. sleeping.. Tired.” Unable to accept your fate, he whispered, “Sleep well then, my dearest.”

But you never lived to hear that.

Because then you moved no more.

Was fate trying to mock him with [name] dying in his arms, in front of him, on the same day as Guizhong’s death? You were always there for him, always there with him, until you weren’t. And never in his immortal life was Zhongli able to forgive himself for this, knowing that he was the reason you were dead.

mm yes now hows that huh? gonna disappear for a few days now haha tags and comments are very much appreciated!

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rpmemes-galore · 4 months

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raw lines from a variety of sources ... sentence starters

"Then perish."

"Pick a god and pray."

"Even fate picks its favorites."

"Everything happens so much."

"I pity the fool that lives like you."

"Then become the dirt I walk on."

“Confidence is quiet. You’re not.”

"I am a monument to all your sins."

“You said I killed you. Haunt me, then!”

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“

"You cannot kill me in a way that matters."

"If you want me to die you can just say so."

"Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

"Your secrets are safe with my indifference."

"Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"

"We might be in the history God abandoned."

"I will face God and walk backwards into hell."

"I can’t go to Hell. I’m all out of vacation days."

"The light inside me is broken, but I still work."

"Don't leave me, dear. Haunt me like a memory."

"I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

“I have been through hell and come out singing.”

"I will die on this hill before I bend on this matter."

"You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."

"If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."

"I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."

“What an exhausting thing it is to be called a hero.“

"To become God is the loneliest achievement of all."

"You cannot condemn those who build your throne."

"No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."

"You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."

"My ancestors are smiling on me. Can you say the same?"

"If God wanted you to live, he would not have created me."

“Love is like ghosts; Few have seen it, but everybody talks.”

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”

“I hope you heal from the things no one ever apologized for.“

"If you should ever get to heaven, I’ll be there to make it hell."

"No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."

"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."

"God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."

"Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."

"There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."

"You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature."

"We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back… you blinked."

"I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."

"The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."

"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

"If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have."

"Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?"

"I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."

“Someday you will have to answer for your actions, and god may not be so merciful.”

"What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

“You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people.”

"You took a pure and beautiful thing, and you beat out everything good, to suit your ends."

"We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."

“I am not responsible for actions of the imaginary version of me you have inside your head.“

"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."

“They dropped the world on your shoulders and called you Atlas. How long can you hold the weight?”

"I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."

"Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer."

"The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."

"Across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."

"The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in hell… yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil."

"What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."

"I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."

"I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

"Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."

"Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."

"One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."

#misc #rp meme #sentence starters

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harrystylesfan2686 · 3 months

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Revenge

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: When your ex destroys your most precious thing what do you do? Cry? Of course but not before taking revenge.

A/N: First Eris fic!!🥳 Reader is Rhysand's sister. I think I went a little overboard... oh well🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

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What The Fuck?

I gasp the second I walk into my library, noticing the gaps in the shelves. My library shelves never have space. The whole room is filled with my most precious obsession.

My books.

Where the hell are my books?

When I walk deeper into the room, I notice a big box in the middle. The rectangular box is gift wrapped with a red shiny wrap, held together by a orange bow on top.

On closer observation, I see an envelope tucked under the ribbon. I take it out and open it, seeing only two sentences scribbled in perfectly fine handwriting, a handwriting I know by heart. Eris.

Seems like we are at war now, sweetheart. How do you like my gift?

My eyebrows furrow. I put down the note and envelope, and open the bow, tearing the gift wrap, I lift the lid.

I freeze upon seeing ash.

The box is filled with ash. Grey mixing with black, creating a rather beautiful image. Except it isn't admirable. When I touch the ash mixed with small pieces of paper that hasn't fully burned. My books.

He burned my books.

I intake a sharp breath, my vision blurs as tears fill my eyes but I don't let them fall. Some people might say I'm overreacting, but I'm not. My books are everything to me. I love them. I treat them better then I treat myself.

And He burned My Books.

That piece of shit.

He knew how much I love them. I've talked to him thousands of time about my books, expressing my feelings about them. I don't even let anyone so much as, touch my books. But I let him. I trusted him.

I loved him. We broke up because his father attacked us. Barron ordered a few Autum Court soldiers to parad down at the Court of Nightmares and kill innocent people, not that the people living there are innocent in anyway, but by attacking a part of Night Court, he declared War.

I gave him a choice, choose between me and his father. I was stupid enough to hope he would choose me. Of course it would be his father. Even though he hates his father to guts, he would still need him to make him high lord. And being The High Lord of Autum Court meant more to him than anything else, including me.

So now we are at War. Two courts fighting against each other. What could go wrong, eh? Apparently everything.

None of the other courts want to help any of us. They don't want unnecessary violence, which is alright, considering Night Court is much stronger than Autum Court. Barron is a fool to think he can win. And now, Eris is too, as it seems.

I blink my eyes clear of tears and stand up. I count the empty shelves where there once were books, trying to see how many I lost. Sixty–Five. He destroyed sixty–five of my most loved books.

Rage burns in my veins. Hurt overcome by anger. The need to burn him in exchange fills my entire body. But I calm myself before I do something idiotic. I take deep breaths trying to plan what I'm going to do in return. I get out of the room, taking careful steps as I go.

You want to play? Fine. Let's play.

-☆-

I twist my hand, snapping the necks of the two guards standing in front of the entrance. I slam open the doors without touching them, barreling down the halls of Autum Court Palace.

This is too easy.

Killing every guard that comes in my way, I go to the main hall. I almost feel bad for the people loosing their life over something their stupid prince did, but my mind is seeing and feeling nothing but red.

When I first described my plan to Rhysand, he was hesitant to let me leave, but realizing that we would be at advantage in this fight by the end of it, he gave me permission.

Now here I am. Walking through enemy land, like a I own it. Removing every obstacle that comes between me and my destination.

I push the doors to the throne room open, and scoff at the few high fea trying to keep me out by their so called magic. I raise an eyebrow and stand their for a few minutes, giving them a chance to stop me. I smirk at their pathetic attempts of imprison me.

I am most powerful here, and they know it.

I raise my hands and twist my wrists, snapping a dozen necks in one motion. I walk father into the room rolling my eyes at the laying bodies. Such a mess.

I take a look around the room. The red carpet running in a straight line from the door to the throne. The levels containing seats for every nobal in Barron's circle. And finally the throne Eris so badly wants to sit at.

Coloured with different shades of red, orange and yellow mixing together. Backrest shaped like fire, built so tall I have to crane my neck to see the top. It's beautiful, I'm not going to lie. Almost makes me feel bad for what I'm about to do.

I turn back around, walking out the same way I walked in. Passing the fallen bodies, I snap my fingers once. Heat explods behind me as I walk out of the door. When I turn to look at the damage I'm doing, I smile.

Fire is lined up from the throne, quickly catching and burning everything in it's way. I smile brighter when I slam the doors shut and drop a small note on the ground near them. He burned my books so I'm burning to only thing he holds most dear in this entire world.

It seems we are. Hope you like my gift.

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#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris fanfic

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pavlovianfuckery · 2 months

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i have abandonment issues and anxiety and now so do you

just my brain going "but what if dream is a complete banana lady about time because he values it differently from everybody else and gets absorbed in his work and fucks off for months on end like a big fucking idiot, what then?"

also he is so very pretty when he cries and i wanted another go at writing some quick stair sex, fucking sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i was so sleep deprived when writing this and it shows but what can you do

It's been weeks since you slept unaided, the use of pills keeping any dreams at bay, so when you finally enter the Dreaming only to find yourself in the throne room of all places, it gives you pause. Everything looks much the same as you remember. When you finally lay eyes on the aloof figure on the throne it feels like being kicked in the chest, which is less unexpected. You had imagined what it would be like to see him again many times, but nothing you had planned to say comes out, the words turning to ash in your mouth.

"Leave us." His gaze is fixed on you as he orders everyone out, and it feels as if an eternity passes between the closing of the massive doors and him speaking to you. "Do you know why I have brought you here?" Just hearing his voice again is painful, but you refuse to let it show, squaring your shoulders but not meeting his eyes, not bothering to keep your tone civil.

"I do not presume to know why you would do anything, so no, I don't." The glibness doesn't seem to amuse him, and he steps down from the throne. "That is not quite true, is it?" His voice is flat as he approaches you unhurriedly, step by inexorable step. "If accusing me of being a liar is all you dragged me here for, I'm just going to go." You turn to go, to wake up, to be anywhere but here, but he calls out to you. "Stop." You were planning on leaving, and yet. And yet.

"Why?" You whirl around, facing him. It's a struggle to keep your voice from cracking, but you manage it, somehow. "You don't want me here." He frowns, moving closer until he's only a few paces away. "I assure you, that is not true, despite your lack of loyalty." "What in the world is that even supposed to mean?" Now you can't keep the anger out of your voice, "Since when have I ever been disloyal to you?" "Since you abandoned me to cavort with a mortal." The words are full of contempt, and it almost makes you physically recoil. "I abandoned you?" It comes out as a disbelieving laugh, more callous than you had intended. "No, you left, without so much as a word. I didn't hear from you for 6 months! I don't know if you had gotten bored of me or what, but you were gone."

"Bored?" His frown deepens. "There were matters of great import that required my attention." "Of course there were." You had always been painfully aware of your own unimportance to a being like him right from the start but nevertheless, his words still hurt. "What did you expect me to do then, spend the rest of my life waiting for you? I didn't even know if you were coming back at all."

"You certainly wasted no time before giving yourself to another." "Did you miss the part where you up and left me for months? Not that it's any of your business anymore but yes, I slept with someone else, to try and get over you forgetting me!" "I did not forget you." Somehow, the words make it worse. "Yeah? Because that's what it looked like." Your eyes sting and you wipe at them angrily.

He's frozen, unmoving at the bottom of the steps. Bathed in the soft light from the stained glass windows he reminds you of a marble statue. Beautiful. Cold. It cuts at you like a knife until you can't stand to look at him any longer, and you turn to leave again. The way his fingers snag your wrist takes you by surprise, not expecting him to reach out. "Wait." "I did." You yank your arm back, but he grabs hold. The touch is gentle, but it might as well have been a firebrand. "Let. Go." For all their vehemence the words feel like a lie on your tongue, and as you glare at him it's obvious that he doesn't believe them either because his grip only tightens. The way he looks at you hurts, it burns and something inside your chest just shatters.

The slap is loud in the empty room, neither of you expecting it. Even though your palm tingles from the open-handed strike there isn't a mark on him of course, but that doesn't make you feel any better. When he pulls you to him, most of the fight drains out of you. "You don't get to do this, you know," you punch his chest weakly, just once as the first tears start to fall. "You can't just dump me by the wayside when you get tired of me, I'm not your fucking pet." "No, perhaps not. But do not doubt this; you are mine."

Despite everything, the close proximity has the same effect as it always has, as if he'd never left. As he tightens his arms around you his familiar scent envelops you, making your head swim. You're not sure what possesses you to brush your lips against his throat, but you do it anyway, despite your every sense screaming at you that it's a bad idea. "Forgive me." For a moment you're sure that he'll send you away, that you'll wake up alone in your bed again and the thought makes it hard to breathe. But then his fingers ghost over your cheek, brushing your tears away before guiding your mouth to his. The kiss is a brief, unspeakably tender thing, over much too quickly. Brows knitted together in something like confusion his eyes are heavy on you, searching your face. "What is there to forgive? If I had known..."

You don't wait for him to finish speaking, pulling him back down by the lapels of his coat. His lips are as soft against yours as they've ever been as you pry them open, like it would be possible to push every shred of angerpaingrief into him that way. As if he could somehow understand your hurt if only you could force him to taste it. And he lets you, even as you nip at him until you taste blood, like bright copper pennies caught in your teeth. Lack of air makes your head spin but you can't stop clinging to him as if he'd turn to smoke under your hands, to slip between your fingers to be gone by morning. "Don't leave me like that again..."

You breathe the words into him like a prayer until your knees go weak, and even then he holds you to him still, not letting go. The descent onto the stairs is a gradual one, made clumsy by the reluctance to let go for even a second. Straddling his lap is a graceless affair, but you're beyond caring. Feeling the fabric of his coat under you is a bit unsettling, the way it cushions your knees from the unyielding stone beneath a bit too well to be quite real. It makes you feel as if you could fall into the sky of the lining of it if you're not careful. "You are aware of my responsibilities; I can offer you no such promises." That hurts to hear more than you would like to admit, but then he continues, "I can however endeavour to inform you when my work requires my full attention."

It's not quite an apology, but it's as close to one as you're likely to ever get and still more than you dared hope for. As the hem of his shirt rides up exposing the skin there, the urge to be closer is overpowering. "I have missed you." The way he says it is quiet but fond, the words soft enough to rival the feel of his skin under your questing hands.

Wanting to lay any claim on him that you can you suck at the sensitive skin on the side of his neck, which surprisingly does leave a mark, one that doesn't fade. When the realization dawns that he's doing that, he's keeping it there on purpose for you, lust pools molten in your belly. Repeating the action on the other side makes him groan, the sound vibrating against your lips as he tips his head back and grinds his hips up against you, giving you all the permission you need.

The bruises bloom nearly instantly, another one of his tricks, offered up almost like a gift. They dapple the flawless column of his throat prettily, but it's still not enough. The seams creak in protest as you pull the collar of his shirt down to get at more of him, but he doesn't seem to mind. After being apart for so long, suddenly having him this close when you thought you never would again is overwhelming and you're unable to hold back a few errant tears. "Do you have any idea what it was like with you gone?" Giving his hair a pull, you force him to look at you.

He wets his lips before responding, an uncharacteristically human gesture. "It was never my intention to cause you harm." The tremble in his voice is barely perceptible but still undeniably there.

His lips yield to yours so easily when you kiss him again, pressing the heel of your hand against his fly. "Help me forget?" As you breathe the words into his mouth you can feel him pulse through the fabric. "Please?"

Even with his hands aiding yours it's easier than it should have been to pull his jeans down, the stiff material offering next to no resistance, a convenience courtesy of the Dreaming. Rather than removing them completely, you push them only as far down as is necessary.

His cock is just as pretty as the rest of him, you'd almost forgotten that. The skin is silky in your palm as you give him a few slow pumps, just as a reminder of what he feels like. "Let me see you." His words make the rest of your clothing fade away like morning mist leaving you completely exposed on his lap, another perk of his realm that you had missed. The way he touches you borders on worshipful as he presses a soft kiss over your heart, gentle as a butterfly wing.

Sinking down on him slowly is difficult when you're aching like this, but you want to savour it. For now, he simply leans back and watches as your body swallows every inch of him. The way he fills you so perfectly is intoxicating, addictive. It feels like coming home. For a while you don't move, just enjoying holding him inside like this, buried to the hilt as you squeeze around him. The intimacy of it is almost unbearable, nearly making you choke up again as he gently grabs hold of your hips and guides you into a languid pace.

"Tell me he didn't make you feel like this." The words are quiet, almost pleading, his eyes shining as he looks up at you. You had thought something like that wouldn't matter to a being like him, but his fragile expression tells you otherwise. "I need to hear you say it," he gasps, the stars in his eyes finally falling. Seeing him like this nearly breaks your heart all over again. As you kiss his face with all the tenderness you can muster, moisture stains your lips, making him seem remarkably human in that moment. "You know he didn't," you fail to keep your voice steady as you stroke his hair. "He wasn't you."

The way his chest hitches does nothing to douse the desire burning its way through you, not the way it perhaps should have done. He's so lovely like this, all dishevelled, cheeks shining. It's wholly unexpected, the vulnerability of it all, making the tension in your core coil tighter. The salt of his tears burning on the tip of your tongue makes you feel like consuming enough of him in any way you can would somehow erase your stupid mistake. As if he could fill you up until there would be room for nothing else, and he would push the memory of it out of you.

"Please come in me," you roll your hips, pleading. "I need you to."

That you would ask for it so bluntly makes him let out a desperate little sound and thrust up into you ineffectually, the bunched-up fabric around his knees making it close to impossible to gain any proper traction on the smooth stone steps. He grasps your hips more firmly, spurring you on. "Move for me." It's still a fairly leisurely pace, neither of you so much chasing release as letting it arrive in its own time. Pleasure washing over you in gentle waves makes your thighs quake as it brings you close to your peak before pulling away, time and time again.

The squelching noises as you ride his cock are embarrassingly loud in the empty hall, but you're beyond caring about anything except that you get to have him like this again. One of his hands moves to where you are joined, clever fingers circling your clit, not directly touching you yet. "You make such a sweet mess of me, my love."He murmurs, voice strained as he continues, "I've missed that." The words alone are nearly enough to put you right back on that precipice, making you pull on his hair with a frustrated little whine. "Morpheus, please." At that, he goes completely still, his grip like iron as he holds you in place. You can feel his cock straining inside of you, nearly spilling but not quite. "Plead with me like that," he chokes out, cheeks high with colour, "and you will receive me sooner than you might hope."

Being the one to make his composure falter has never failed to drive you wild and this time is no different. Seeing him like this after your time apart, balancing on that edge right along with you, is very nearly enough to bring you off. Furrowing his brow he bites his bottom lip, fighting to keep his control from slipping, and you realize that you're going to come regardless of if he moves or not. It's like a tidal wave on the horizon, the pull relentless long before it arrives.

"I'm going to," you struggle to get the words out, "fuck, I'm..." The way his eyes bore into yours is almost hypnotic, drawing you in. "Go on," he breathes, egging you on, "come for me." Then he flexes inside of you and with a whimper, you're lost, walls spasming around his cock. There is no way to ride the wave of pleasure and nowhere to hide from it, the only thing you can do is slump bonelessly on his lap and let it wash over you, because he isn't letting you move. He's only a few seconds behind you though, pushing in as far as he can go and emptying himself there with a strangled sound, as if he really could wash every trace of the other man's touch out of you that way.

Spent, he rests his head against your shoulder, stroking his hands down your back soothingly as his come starts seeping out of you. For a while you simply stay like that, holding each other close. Now that you're thinking more clearly reality starts to set in, and you can't help but dread waking up. Because in your heart of hearts, you know that you will wake up alone, no matter what just happened. It hits you like a sledgehammer to the chest and without meaning to, you start to tremble.

Realizing with rising horror that this might just be A dream and not your Dream, you do the only thing you can think of; you flee back to the waking world.

#dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #sandman x you #sandman smut #dream of the endless smut #the sandman fanfiction #my shitty shitty writing (affectionate)

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primegrim · 1 year

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time to write it in here ! still , i’ll thank you , nonnie , again for sending me this ! these are always so fucking fun to write !

as on characters that influence the way i write eiko . . . there’s quite a few ! she is a oc with a few years now , after all ! bayonetta is one that comes to mind , as well as hela from the norse myths ( although the one in specific i have in my mind is the one the mcu showed , even if not like the one we know from the mythology ) . levi and mikasa ackerman are other two that i take inspo from ! these four are all in her more work persona . when you get to know her in a more intimate way ? i’d say . . . it’s actually hard to compare her to a character on this part , as it’s not a side she often lets out . hell , it’s not one side that she has shown in YEARS . but really , she is extremely motherly and big sister like .

and i hope you have a great week , too !

🌼🌸 anon here to make your day a bit sweeter !! you're an amazing person and i hope you've had an amazing start of the week. now, onto some nosy questions: where do you get your inspiration for your character(s) from? are there specific types of medias that have influenced the way you write or maybe even specific writers (maybe even from the rpc)? anyways, i hope your week continues to be sweet and amazing because the best of the best is what you deserve, dear friend !!

#thank you thank you thank you!!!#* ASK // beat me black and blue : every wound will shape me - every scar will build my throne .#* ANONYMOUS // but the ghosts that we knew made us blackened or blue ; but we’ll live a long life .#* HEADCANONS // let beauty come out of ashes .

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fireismine · 7 months

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DAENERYS TARGARYEN APPRECIATION WEEK 2023

Day 5: Magic and Prophecies → Daenerys Being Resistant to Fire

When the fire died at last and the ground became cool enough to walk upon, Ser Jorah Mormont found her amidst the ashes, surrounded by blackened logs and bits of glowing ember and the burnt bones of man and woman and stallion. She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away … yet she was unhurt. - Daenerys X, A Game of Thrones

It took Dany half the morning to climb down. By the time she reached the bottom she was winded. Her muscles ached, and she felt as if she had the beginnings of a fever. The rocks had scraped her hands raw. They are better than they were, though, she decided as she picked at a broken blister. Her skin was pink and tender, and a pale milky fluid was leaking from her cracked palms, but her burns were healing. - Daenerys X, A Dance with Dragons

Only the birth of her dragons amidst the fire and smoke of Khal Drogo’s funeral pyre had spared Dany herself from being dragged back to Vaes Dothrak to live out the remainder of her days amongst the crones of the dosh khaleen. The fire burned away my hair, but elsewise it did not touch me. It had been the same in Daznak’s Pit. - Daenerys X, A Dance with Dragons

#danyweek2023 #canondany #asoiaf #daenerys targaryen

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hellbornsworld · 7 months

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BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2) ⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

✨Hostess | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 47 Parts | Completed

"A whore is someone who sells their body; a hostess is someone who entertains guests to make them feel welcomed and loved. There is a difference."

In which Kim Taehyung tweets at a Dora the Explorer twt account and gets a creepy dm from them. Soon , he realizes he got himself into some deep sh*t and has to discover who's behind the account before it's to late.

A tragic love story filled with pain, betrayals, miseries and deadly plot twists.

"Nothing's changed. You'll go home. You'll be bored. You'll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You're too clever and too beautiful for them to understand. They don't even remember your name."

✨ Mask Parade | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 33 Parts | Ongoing

"Sometimes it's not the people who change, it's the mask that falls off."

✨killjoy | Only BTS | Author : taenology | 50 Parts | Completed

a computer game can't hurt anyone, right?

✨The Keeper's Tale | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

They witnessed her destruction, They were left to wonder why, She saw nothing but darkness, Though the stars shown in her eyes, But maybe they'd forgotten, When they failed to see the cracks, That a stars light shines brightest, When it starts to collapse.

✨Singularity | BTS x Reader | Author : mociminji | 36 Parts | Ongoing

You were stolen by the devil. He claimed you as his own. Little did he know, you are going to be the death of him.

✨The Seven | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 45 Parts | Completed

"I'm crazy? No, darling. What's crazy is that the world refuses to let me be with you."

✨Black Swan | BTS X Reader | Author : blingchick | 17 Parts | Ongoing

"What are you going to do to me now, Swan?"

✨The 7 Princes | BTS X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 82 Parts | Completed

Surprise! Your parents have been keeping a secret from you - you are royal princess and sole heir to the throne. To break the news to you, your parents have sent you to a neighboring kingdom where seven handsome, irresistible princes will teach you all you need to know about becoming the next ruler.

✨The Blue Eyes Series | BTS X Reader | Author : TaeTae_lyfe | 4 Books | Ongoing

# BOOK 1 The Four Kingdoms |

There's a fire in her. If loved correctly, she will warm your entire home. If abused, she will burn it to ash.

# BOOK 2 Pyramids |

She didn't need a crown, because she wasn't a queen.... She was a goddess.

# BOOK 3 Dynasty |

You can say she's crazy, but her eyes see the spirits of the past.... She talks to them.... And they talk back.

# BOOK 4 Mist |

You watch her walk away and it hits you that she is an entire ocean And you were wrong, so very wrong Because you let her go Thinking she was just a girl

✨Gods of the Sea | BTS!Vocal Liner X Reader | Author : FireTiger8 | 87 Parts | Completed

"My name is Captain Jeon Jungkook. I'm here to kidnap you."

7 boys, 7 chapters, 7 different stories

✨Oh My Gospel! | BTS X Reader | Author : mociminji | 88 Parts | Ongoing

In which you are a prude theology student and one day, your sneaky twin brother sent you a link to the livestream of an infamous camboy, Park Jimin.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Other Posts:

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION (1)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(2)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(3)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(4)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

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b00kdiary · 3 months

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Dreamer | Rhysand

Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand begrudgingly goes to Hewn City to secure a marriage pact that will indefinitely bond the two Courts together- but the fine ladies of the Court of Nightmares are not what he wants or needs. Instead, he discovers Lady Y/N, and she has no qualms about telling him how he has failed this City and her. This is more than just coincidence, it’s fate.