#I was worried I would mess up the timeline | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justanechoflower-ddlc · 7 months

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(Maybe this when combined with the drawing you made will give you an idea what it was. Or at least something believable enough for Flowey. Turns out some of the formatting goes away though, so I’ll have to reconstruct the formatting from the copy I made. Also, somehow, it’s an older version. At least the actual text is there, even if which are italics and which are bold isn’t, and the alterations since then were mostly just the author notes, and a line from Yuri, which I can mostly reconstruct.)

>#We’re in agreement about the restarts, then. I haven’t had to restart at all since after the player left, but I wasn’t in the club at all then, so that doesn’t count. But now you can see why I’m trying not to get too close to them knowing, even if I can technically undo any mistakes as long as none of them get to the point where they have console access.

>#I’ve already mentioned how I was a different person in my actual first impressions. Then again, perhaps separating my first observations from my first judgements would still help? I’ll probably try to do literary analysis on the poems, and then “try and work out“ who’d make a poem with that kind of meaning. I actually recognize two of the poems as the same ones from earlier timelines:Amy Likes Spiders and Ghost Under The Light.

>#Also, you got all of them right this time! The meanings of the poems are deeper than that, but I suppose you wouldn’t know that. Except maybe Amy Likes Spiders. I’ll show you how you could have worked that one out.

Monika:Okay, I think I’ve got it! We’ll start with Amy Likes Spiders! Monika:So, this LOOKS like a simple case of the speaker being disgusted by someone liking spiders. But looking closely, there are clear cases of “Amy” actually being helpful, and the speaker clearly just crushing it off because… well, Amy likes spiders! And the narrator saying it doesn’t matter if they keep it private, or has other hobbies. So this poem seems intentionally designed so that we’re not supposed to agree with the speaker. If we were supposed to agree, those lines giving the very reasons why Amy liking spiders doing no harm, and the narrator just brushing them aside, wouldn’t have been a part of the poem!

Monika:So we’re clearly meant to see them as someone needlessly judging a nice person over a completely harmless hobby, even if that hobby is what might be considered “gross” in social circles. Amy even keeps it private, so nobody even has to watch her! And here the speaker is about to tell everyone about it!

*Natsuki is trying not to show she’s glad that Monika gets it. She’s… mostly successful?*

(After all, a clear reaction to an analysis of a poem could give away that it’s YOUR poem.)

Monika:Now, Natsuki has stated multiple times today that the point of this club is that it’s a place where you can act as yourself, and NOT be judged for it. That might even be why she joined in the first place… that is one of the things that were on the banners for the club, after all. So this seems like a moral Natsuki would really want to give. Sayori… probably wouldn’t have wrote this. While she’d certainly also agree with the moral of the poem, she just doesn’t strike as someone who’d make a poem whose sole purpose is how a certain kind of person is really dumb! That’s a Natsuki thing, with those times she used “dummy” today!

Monika:Now, maybe it makes sense for Yuri to write a poem like this? I don’t really think this would be her poem, though, Natsuki is a much better fit, and there’s actually another poem I think has to be Yuri’s. Speaking of, Ghost Under the Light!

Monika:I can’t say I know exactly what this one means. This looks like a case of worrying about the future, but it also looks like a bit more than that. The title is “Ghost Under The Light”, the speaker is living in the past, but taking air from the present, and is the one flickering back when the light flickers. Could the speaker be a ghost themselves? Also, it seems the place has been abandoned for a while, as if it became a ghost town.

Monika:There definitely seems like there’s a deeper meaning to this poem, I just can’t pin it down yet. I’ll have to think about it more later… But I’ve read into it enough to say that this is a Yuri poem! There is NO way that Natsuki could have made this, it just doesn’t fit someone full of energy and with a sort of blunt personality. The wording choice seems to be trying to find out fancier words, which is probably the opposite of how Nastuki does things, from how she’s spoken before. Similarly, Sayori wouldn’t have put this much focus in choosing fancy words, her style is more like… well, I think I’ll share after Buttercup does his guesses. Then we can see if he’s already worked out Sayori’s style!

Monika:But really, this reads like a Yuri poem. She’s the one who decided to be formal when we first stepped foot in the clubroom, after all. That puts Amy Likes Spiders as a Natsuki poem, which leaves Shining Stars as a Sayori poem!

Monika:I’ll get to what I think that one is about once the authors are revealed, and we start giving each other feedback. I know Sayori better than Buttercup does, from my time helping her with ideas for this club, and I’ve used a bit of that to help me interpret the poem. But process of elimination is already enough for me to say this is a Sayori poem. She’s the only one I didn’t already match a poem with!

Monika:And separately, it just doesn’t make sense for a Natsuki poem, there isn’t really a moral that jumps out at you, lines designed specifically to make it clearer, like Amy Likes Spiders does, and we already know how blunt Natsuki can be.

Sayori:Oh, that sounded awesome!

Yuri:That was… an interesting reading. I won’t comment on how well you did with the guessing, since Buttercup still needs to make his guesses. But the fact you found such an insightful interpretation of Amy Likes Spiders shows you’re good with poetry. I’m interested to see what you think of the other two poems…

Natsuki:And you were afraid you’d blunder it! *laughter* Like Yuri, I can’t tell you if your guesses were right or wrong yet. But even if it was all wrong, those have so much thought into them that anyone would have to be a DUMMY to think you did horrible!

*Monika gives the poem copies to Flowey. No, they don’t have notes on them, it’s just the poems.*

Monika:Just in case you need to read them again… Whenever you’re ready, you can start your guessing.

————————

(Well, looks like she did better than she thought. Really, Monika, your odds were much better than you thought they were, you weren’t a literature club president for nothing, after all. Messing up with Sayori wouldn’t be nearly as bad as messing up the others, since Sayori could easily just say she told Monika any details about herself that Monika used that weren’t mentioned in the clubroom. Just don’t let it get to your head or you might somehow mess up with Sayori, or you might try to go for Yuri’s poem and mess that one up.

(Oh, and I found where Yuri explains her poem in-game. Se seems to be interested in making poems that readers can get their own meanings from, as she describes “The Recoon” as a poem everyone can relate to in their own way. She might be a fan of the theory of the Death of the Author, where the main thing that matters to how valid an interpretation is is how well it’s supported by the text, regardless of whether or not that meaning was intentional by the author.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'll start with shining stars. This poem is about someone who has found something important to them! It seems to be falling apart gradually, so the speaker keeps putting her hope into it to keep it going. Unfortunately, doing this becomes more and more difficult as she grows exhausted of trying to keep this important thing going.

This person...

Is Sayori! As the president of the literature club, you must worry about keeping the club going. We were worring earlier about if anyone in the future would be interested joining the club, and though Monika participates in the worry most, it also is your concern if I get to say! That's why I was brought in to ensure the future grades will be interested in joining even when you're in college.

And Monika didn't even bring a poem, even though she probably does have at least one since she technically started the literature club and likes poetry... Oh well, it's her choice to be a scaredy-cat!

The spider poem is obviously Natsuki's considering how blunt she tend to be. Which I came up with this piece of evidence on my own, I am NOT copying from Monika's response! Although I did originally think Natsuki just didnt like some spider girl and not that the poem was trying to make the speaker sound bad on purpose, which makes a lot more sense. So I guess that part I was wrong about.

Building off of that, it makes sense Natsuki would make a poem about not wanting to be judged! One of the first things she talked about was how she brought manga before and was upset for Yuri judging her, thinking they're something like picture books for overgrown babies, but that's not true! Some manga are.... Heehee.... A little too violent for children.

Now for the last one. Ghost in the light has to be Yuri's not only because it's the last option, but also because of her sometimes shy, ghostlike nature and formal style of writing. This poem is about someone who dreads the future and feels comfortable living in the past. It's inevitable to be pushed out into the future which is why the light flickers, and the speaker flickers because it is unhealthy be stubborn to move on. This is why you describe the green-blue light of the future as sickening! Although I don't understand why you would have a problem with-

...

*Flowey stops abruptly. If what he's thinking is true, this could ruin the entire plan.*

(No. Monika doesn't exist In this world. Yuri can't be uneasy with her or Sayori for the power they have because she doesn't know. But what if it's like resets in my world and they still somewhat remember? It'd be impossible to explain to them smoothly without worrying them even more and ruining the entire club's relationship if Yuri is already distasteful of Sayori and Monika! Ah, but who would represent amber...? No one looks too brown-y or orang-y here. Maybe I'm overthinking it?)

Blue... Green... Why those colors specifically? And Amber? Haha, I'd think you'd choose purple to be your comfort color, Yuri! Now, I think what I said so far was a pretty good lead but I don't know your past or worries in detail so you should explain it yourself if it was correctly you that made it. After all, I'm here to learn more about my smart new friends! *Flowey hugs Yuri, smiling sweetly and hoping to make her comfortable enough to confirm or debunk his suspicions.*

#Flowey was thinking the blue-green light represented sayori-monika #And it's sickening because they kept messing with the timeline in the past and she is whether subconsciously or fully aware #And worried if one of them would mess everything up again in the future #i made him say this base off of my theories although not exactly #i was thinking the blue-green light represented the same thing #Except the comforting light of the lamp post would be MC (AKA Ivan) which Yuri felt was the only good thing #And so the other girls meddling would pose a threat to that so therefore she grows a distaste towards the other girls #Except Sayori and Monika specifically because Natsuki doesn't have control over the files and is therefore less of a threat #and this would still be possible even though Monika and MC are technically gone #Because the poem's they are scripted to write are not reset and therefore even though the original meaning if the poem can change #The words don't #And this might be the original meaning #Idk if it's too farfetched but I thought it was an interesting idea #oh also words in parentheses are flowey thinking #art #ask flowey #ask undertale #crossover #doki doki literature club #flowey #paper art #submission #undertale #undertale fanart #monika ddlc #sayori ddlc #natsuki ddlc #yuri ddlc #poetry #long post

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quaintii · 1 year

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The Prey and the Predator

a/n: first time writing smut, so I am new here! I'll try my best 🪱

Wrd Cnt: I dunno ^-^

Warnings: breeding kink, aftercare, oral, spanking, choking, little bdsm, dom!Miguel, sub!reader, fang kink, size kink, stomach bulge, blood-play, hair pulling, suffocation?, p with plot? prob more. MDNI !

Summary: Miguel has been trying to catch you after you have been messing up with the timeline. You're an obnoxious villain most say. You have quite a hunch on Miguel and you love playing around with him, he caught your eye so attentively and you love seeing him angry. Miguel has had enough with this stubbornness of yours and wants to catch you once and for all to stop messing up his plans.

enjoy <3

This was the 5th time today you've messed with him. Miguel was seriously starting to get fed up with your games. He tried to catch you multiple times but you have an invisibility power. You love treating him like a dog on a leash, always coming towards you. You have messed with many other people before but it hasn't been as much as fun as this, you love seeing him angry. Sometimes you stalk him to see what his plans are. You are always near him, just invisible. Since he lacks Spidey sense it makes things much more easier. But he's very attentive with sound because he has enhanced senses.

"I'm so fucking done with her fucking games and bullshit. She's so fucking annoying. Ya es la quinta vez que ha hecho esto." Miguel said while heavily sighing with irritation. "Si lo vuelve acer.. la voy acer que se arrepienta."

You giggled as you kept rewinding the face that Miguel would do whenever he was pissed. You find him quite interesting that you want to prey on him more and see how far his tolerance limit can go. You quit trying to deny your attraction to him cause god his physique drives you insane. Your body is desperately wanting for his grasp on your throat.

As the next day passes, you decide to continue your daily annoyance in messing up his plans to remove every anomaly in the wrong universe. You follow him around about everywhere when you have nothing better to do. You cause him ton of stress by causing ruckus in many different universes. Thing is, he's starting to catch onto your patterns. Which will soon lead him to finally grab a hold on you.

You fortunately make a 'small' ruckus by causing another anomaly to escape from the HQ. Miguel and other spiders are working on a mission to catch this villain while you stand back watching it like a movie. He already knows it was you because your patterns are always consistent. You rest so carelessly, not worrying about a single thing. Your eyes intoxicatingly staring deep into Miguel. You're basically craving him to the point you touch yourself at the thought of him.

It's midnight by now and you're crouching down on the floor in a abandoned broken down building in a random universe. You just couldn't get the thought of him wandering his hands around your body. Touching every crevice of it. You couldn't hold back anymore and touched your core. Rubbing it with your palms slowly but with a rhythmic pace, you start heavily panting out of frustration as it's not enough for your satisfaction of immense pleasure you desire.

You desperately want more so you remove your pants and pull your red undergarments to the side. Using your slick wetness as lube to rub your clit in slow circles. You roll your head back and you whimper lightly.

You stick your fingers inside your cunt, feeling some relief of pleasure but not enough. You start chasing your high as your mind starts to drift to Miguel pounding you so unrelentingly with no mercy. You start moaning his name as a prayer between gasps. Your stomach starts to feel a tight snap and ecstacy washes over your body. You pant stiffly and rub off your cum on your suit.

"God, I seriously cannot believe I'm doing this...this is so fucking embarrassing for me." You say with an expression of disappointment.

You go a couple of days without messing with Miguel because you just can't seem to control yourself whenever he's near you, even when he doesn't know you're there. So you decide to pay him a visit at the HQ and see what thing you should do today. You're unusually nervous this time, wondering if you'll mess anything up. You feel so incredibly queasy around him now.

As you find a portal, you sneak your way in with your invisibility power. You see Miguel watching and scrolling thru some screens and you just can't stop glaring at him sitting on his desk. You had a sudden urge to just climb on top of him and straddle him with your hips. You started having lewd thoughts and you started having a pool of arousal grow the more you stood there.

Little did you know, Miguel could sniff your wetness. He knew it was you because he remembers your scent. As he scrolls through the perspective cams, he finally shuts them down. He pretends he's not aware you're in the same room with him, in his office. Alone together.

"Didn't figure I'd finally catch you." Miguel said with a sly smirk. "You are such a fucking intolerance that I can't stand, I mean you mess with my missions half of the time..god you're such an annoyance! You know that right?" He said while walking closer towards you.

Until out of nowhere, he immediately uses his red lasso and webs to pin you onto a wall. You audibly gasp because you find this completely unexpected. You quickly start thinking what caused him to find what place you were at. How did he know you were there? This was unusual because other times you were around him, he didn't do anything. But your arousal just began to grow even wetter.

"H-how did you know I was here?!?" You said with worry. "I promise I was just playing around, I didn't mean anything horrible. I p-promise, please don't hurt me!" You beg. You try getting out of his grasp but your hands are winded behind your back. You hate to admit it but you're getting even more turned on by this.

"Ay cariño... podía oler tu excitación..Hueles tan bien..como dulce..por fin te tengo en la palma de mis manos amor.." He says while chuckling lowly.

You were struggling to get out his web, your eyes still on his, watching him creep closer to you second by second. Your heart starts racing so fast when he's above you. Miguel is so much more taller than you. You only understood a bit of Spanish but god did you adore his accent.

"Stay still f'me, mi vida. Vuevles aver me? Ya sé que te encantó haciendo estos juegos, muñeca. Queda quieta..stay still.." Miguel says with a tone of lustfulness.

"Please Miguel, I really meant no harm..please let me go. " You keep babbling incoherent words because the only thing you can focus on is his collarbone, his amazing physique. His biceps flex with every move, god how badly you want him to choke you with his hands. His prominent veins also catch your eyes. You observe every aspect of him especially what's between his thighs.

You hold back a stifled moan just from staring at him. Your mind starts racing with so many ways this could possibly go.

"You shouldn't have messed with me, amor. You should always keep in mind how your actions always come with consequences, right cariño? Y'know.. you really caused me a lot of stress these past few days. It's not so easy catching a dangerous anomaly almost everyday, muneca." He said while his muscles begin to tense. He absolutely loved the way he caged over your small body. He could just eat you right then and there.

"Mejor un sabor de tu coño me hace sentir mejor, bebé." His tone dripping with amusement.

"M-miguel.. I don't think you're thinking straight. Okay! I'm sorry about what I've done, I won't do it ever again!"

"Oh I promise you won't do it ever again. I should teach you a lesson. Will you be a good girl for me?"

You try your best to not give into your deep pleasures, so you continue to put up your arrogant side. "Miguel, you wouldn't dare to touch me because you don't know what horrible things I would do this place! I will ruin you!" You yell with fake confidence.

Miguel chuckles darkly. "Not if I ruin you first cariño. Look how cute you look squirming. I think I would love to keep you around as a stress relief toy, què no? I think you and I would both enjoy that." Miguel finally stands infront of you and crouches to your height.

"mmm, smell so good.. let me fill you up, amor. I could smell you miles away..you're so wet for me. You know you want this."

You try denying it as much as you could, you couldn't believe what Miguel was even uttering. Your brain starts fogging up and you finally give up.

"I-i do Miguel. I crave you. I can't hold myself anymore whenever I see you, I want your cock inside me please Miguel." You beg.

"Such a needy little slut aren't you? You want this cock so bad..don't you?" You nod slowly, biting your lower lip. Miguel finally released you from his webs and you immediately flop to the ground on your hands and knees. You look at him through your lashes.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me, cariño. I should do something with that pretty mouth of yours, que no? " He said with a sneer spreading across his face.

"Please Miguel do anything to me.." You say with a whimper in your voice. You're starting to get impatient and your cunt is now soaking wet, longing for something long and girthy inside of you. Your lips hang open. You stare at his crotch and approach your hands to his bulge. God, he was huge.

He slaps your hands away from approaching him. "Who said you could do that, amor? I'm the one who controls around here. You'll do anything I'll say like a good girl right?" Miguel said while huffing, your position on your knees has him holding every restraint he has left in him. "Si Miguel." You say.

He presses his index finger on your chin, lifting it up to face him. "Remember no teasing cariño, only I do that. Do that and you'll get a punishment." Miguel removed his suit and his physique was even more amazingly sculpted. His boxers were then brought to his knees and his cock sprung free. The brown tip leaking with pre-cum. It's begging to be sucked.

You part your lips open and hold onto his length, both of your hands don't even cover him. You lick his pre-cum from the tip like a kitten. You do circles with your tongue on his tip, making him more sensitive.

Miguel's mind starts fogging up with what many things he wants to do to that pretty little pussy of yours and make you his slut.

You then try taking his length in your warm, silky mouth, his cock twitching, begging for more warmth. As you take half of him in your throat, you bob your head up and down in a rhythmic pace. You stroke the rest of him that doesn't fit inside your mouth. You start moaning and panting when you take him, you try going even deeper. Your throat starts choking.

You then look up at Miguel. He has the most lustful expression you've ever seen. His eyebrows are furrowed together, he's biting his lips. Staring deep into your soul with his crimson eyes.

"Ay muñeca, me haces.. fuck.. sentir mejor.." He said while looking down at your small figure taking his length slowly. Miguel was tired with teasing and was barely holding by a thread from throat fucking your throat.

You release your lips around him to breathe. A string of pre-cum from your lips and his cock made him finally lose it. Miguel couldn't hold himself back anymore. All of his morals go out the window as he violently bucks his hips against your throat. Mounts of tears start to stream down your face as his cock runs so deep and warm down your throat. It hurts as first but it then drives you insane.

The sound of sucking and popping echoes through the room. He's so close, you can feel it. You look up at him, battering your wet lashes at him. Taking him like a good girl, you thought.

His head rolls back and his jaw tightens as he's reaching his limit. Your throat wrapping around his cock made him twitch uncontrollably. Your soft tongue swirling around him also aroused him. Miguel was holding onto the wall to stay still because your throat feels so amazing. He starts wondering how euphoric your pussy must feel.

He then loudly groans and curses in Spanish under his breath as he thrusts one more time down your throat to spread his seed. His cum tastes salty then sweet. It's a treat for you. You drink all of his cum, swirling your tongue around his cock, making sure you take every last droplet.

"Mierda..eres magnífica, ma." He says while heavily panting. "Your throat fits my cock perfectly." Miguel looks at you up and down hungrily. He then grabs your arm and places you on top of his desk. He throws everything on the floor. You're his only focus now.

You're cunt is throbbing for something, it feels so empty. You haven't been able to satisfy yourself so you run your hands to rub your clothed clit but Miguel slaps your ass before you do.

"Only I can do that, mi vida. You can't touch yourself without my permission. Ahora.. quítate la ropa." He said with heavy impatience. The idea aroused you.

You do so, you slowly tease him as you remove your suit. Going from top to bottom. Removing every clothing off your body. Miguel hungrily follows your curves. He eyes you so lustfully. You're now fully naked in front of him. He can't stop staring at your pussy. Miguel's gaze is almost unreadable.

Suddenly, he grabs your throat, almost choking you. You try talking but you just give up because you enjoy this too much to even talk back. "What did I say about teasing me cariño? I thought you were going to be a good slut for me.. y'know I don't wanna play games with you anymore."

You moan as his grip remains on your stronger and your body hitched as the cold air washes over you. Your nipples are perked up, begging for some attention. "Now let me touch you, princessa." Miguel kneels down and whispers "puta madre, eres una maravilla.." at your cunt. His warm breath makes you twitch. You can't hold back anymore and want some sort of touch. His fingers separate your lips to see your glistening cunt. His dark, crimson eyes bore into yours as he pushed two fingers up your pretty cunt.

"You're so wet... are you that needy for my cock, princessa?" He said while smirking devilsly. Your back immediately arched back when he licked your slick wetness. He licked and sucked softly on your clit. He swirls his tongue around your clit in circles, driving you insane. You desperately want more so you buck your hips against his face and grab onto his hair. Miguel slaps your pussy again. "What did I tell you, princessa, be a good slut for daddy." "No one else will ever suck your pretty pussy this good like me, ma, nobody." You let out a loud moan as he slides in his girthy, scarred fingers inside your plushy, soft walls.

" M-miguel.." a soft whimper fell from your lips as you pull his hair between your thighs. He can't wait to stuff his big cock inside your soft, warm pussy. He wants you to beg for him, ache for him, moan his name like a prayer continuously. He goes a steady pace, sliding his fingers in and out while licking your clit. You feel so amazing, you roll your head and your eyes to the back of your skull as you feel your dirty desires finally being fulfilled. Miguel bit the inside of your thighs with his fangs, marking you his and his only.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your soft, silky walls around his fingers, tightening around him. "Look at your cunt.. fuck cariño, tightening around me like a needy bitch. Hm? Tell me how bad you want my cock, ma. Beg for it."

"P-please Miguel, I want your fucking cock inside of my cunt, make me your slut. Fuck me already please." You say while you mewl and whine as his fingers starts sliding in faster than before, you feel something familiar in your lower abdomen. You feel something coming up and you finally snap. You moan loud throughout your orgasm, your legs start twitching uncontrollably as you tighten your thighs around Miguel's head. "M-miguel please stop!" You whine. You started to feel so overstimulated when Miguel sucks your clit, attentively watching your expressions. You try pushing him off but your strength doesn't budge. You start slightly tearing up as you feel you'll completely crumble to pieces and pass out. Miguel finally stops.

"Todavía quieres que juega con tu coño, ma? Sabes tan rica. Cómo dulce caramelo. Eres mia." He said gruffly. "Look at me, mama." You face your eyes at his, begging him to fuck you without mercy just with your eyes. His cock is twitching and he couldn't hold back no more. "Use your words, ma.. do you want my cock?" He grins. He teased you with his cock as he runs it up and down your slick cunt. "Yes Miguel, ple-", you were cut off as he immediately thrusted into your pussy without warning. You screamed out of immense pleasure. "F-FUCK." You've never felt this full before, he took up all the air in your lungs in a second as he started thrusting hard into your cervix. You were now uncontrollably mewing and whining his name non-stop.

"Such a pretty pussy just for me. All mine..look how your dirty pussy keeps sucking me in, princessa.. mierda.." You try rolling your hips at his dick to receive even more friction but he slaps your ass harshly. Over and over, making you scream. "Que te dije, amor." Miguel keeps staring when his cock enters your pussy deep after each thrust. Your hips feel like completely giving up, if it weren't for him holding onto your hips and waist, you would've fallen by now. Your eyes bore into Miguel's eyes and he does the same. He loved seeing how he made you feel, your facial expressions of gasping and panting.. begging for more, made his dick harden. The skin to skin contact drew you and him insane, he started becoming primal. Animalistic.

He loves how his cock feels balls deep inside your warm walls. Sliding easily in and out. Your eyes couldn't stop rolling back as your hips twitched against his. Miguel then started teasing your perked nipples, that finally received some attention. His mouth sucked on your tits, hungrily. He would softly bite it to get more of a reaction out of you. You were even more turned on as he would rest his neck on your shoulder. Kissing your neck, leaving you with hickeys everywhere. He brought out his fangs to taste you even more.

You yelped when his fangs sunk deep into you skin, you felt so intoxicated by the overwhelming pleasure when he start sucking your blood. Your body was starting to limp. He wouldn't let go of his fast space. He starts grabbing a strong hold of your throat and hair. He wanted you all over his body. He pulls your chest to his chest, reaching more amazing spots.

"M-miguel! Please.. I can't take anymore.. please stop, please Miguel it's too m-much f'me." You feel his bulge stick out of your stomach. You wondered how he even fits inside you. "No muñeca..I know you can take this like a good slut, your pussy wants this. Don't deny it." Miguel pants."M-miguel please!" You whine as it pleasure slowly becomes overwhelming for you. Without having another say, he immediately flips you on your chest on his desk, bringing your ass up and tying your hands behind your back so you wouldn't intefere. You found yourself almost collapsing just to the touch of his body weighing down in yours. "I can do anything I want to you, you're my slut. You're my slut! Say it!" Miguel says while panting as he managed to slam even deeper into your cunt at this angle. He grabs your throat, making you face him. "Dígalo, mi corazón. Say you're my pretty little dirty slut." "M-miguel, I'm your fucking..s-slut." You slur your words as you could barely hold words in your throat. Your moans would pronounce Miguel's name incoherently over and over.

The sounds of moaning and skin slapping against each other echoes throughout the room. "feels s'good fuck..mierda. Look what you do to me." You endlessly mewl and whine and moan loudly as he continues to slam his girthy cock, hitting your g-spot. Your back manages to arch even more. Allowing him to go deeper inside you than you ever imagined was even possible.

His hands travel to your clit, rubbing it so slowly. Your mouth is completely agape, gasping for air. He leaves soft kisses down your spine and you shiver as he marks you again with his fangs on your shoulders. His talons begin to tightly grip your hips. Leaving bruises on it for later. The low growls of his whiny voice caused you clench tighter around his cock, causing him to twitch. You were so close, you felt it and he did too.

"Going to fill this pretty pussy full of my cum, princess. Cum for me cariño, do it for me. Make me feel good. Want your pussy to tighten around me." With those words being said, your legs and pussy spasm uncontrollably around his rough, thick cock.

He continued thrusting a few more times inside you, overstimulating you beyond the edge. Both of your bodies emit groans, growls, gasps, and pleasurable moans. "F-fuck I'm so c-close, baby..god. Mierda, amo tu coño." He finally cums inside your pussy, the overwhelming pleasure makes you faint for a while. Miguel finally pulls out and groans as he sees his semen leak out your pussy. "I want you to be full of me.." He pushed two fingers up your cunt to make sure his cum would stay there. He pumps his cum back into your womb.

You now fall completely unconscious as the overwhelmed pleasure took over you. A couple hours later, you wake up next to Miguel. He was staring at you sleeping. You try getting up but Miguel placed you back down on the bed. "No baby, your body needs to rest. You're tired. If you want anything, just ask me muñeca." He said while smiling. You never saw this caring side of him, you loved it already. "Why were you staring at me sleeping, Miguel?" You said with a raspy voice. "You look angelic all the time, cariño. Even when moaning my name." He said while smirking. You feel your cheeks heating up as you vividly remember everything from last night. It was so intense that your body was so sore. For now, all that mattered is that Miguel is with you, taking care of you.

A/n: THAT WAS A LOT for my first time, hope u guys enjoy :3 translations below!

Translations: "cariño": sweetheart

"Muñeca": doll

"Mierda": fuck

"Princessa"- princess

"Amo tu coño": I love your pussy.

"Dígalo mi corazón": Say it, my love

"Que te dije amor": What did I tell you, love

"Todavía quieres que juega con tu coño, ma? Sabes tan rica. Cómo dulce caramelo. Eres mia" : You still want me to play with your pussy, ma? You taste so good. Like caramel candy. You're mine.

"Puta madre, eres una maravilla." -- Holy shit, you're so amazing.

"Ahora. Quítate la ropa." -- Now. Take off your clothes.

"Ya es la quinta vez que ha hecho esto." - It's already the 5th time she's done this.

"Si lo vuelve acer.. la voy acer que se arrepienta." - If ehe does it again... I'm make her regret.

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #smut #hehe oops #:33333 #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #my pookie #Spotify

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flamingpudding · 3 months

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I love your writing so much but I'm here with a crack idea just imagine deage Dan is Klarion.

Dan was able to find out who he is outside of Danny then he was able to change his name Klarion Jackson Fenton/Nightingale he is still a little villain boy also now a mom boy.

Ghost King Danny is his mom young justice was so confused when Klarion you're the best gifts get your mom after not talking to him for a while to also begging them to pretend to be his friend . Justice League dark is panicking in the background about the electric being that just shows up.

Danny in full ghost king attire standing there with a plate of cookies ready to meet his son's new friends.

Thanks so much! I am glad you enjoy my writing!

Also thanks because I absolutely love this Idea/Prompt! Sooooo please enjoy this piece inspired by it! Also I haven't consumed a lot of DC material lately so i am basing this all on my memories. In other words.... I went with Tim's little team here.

Hope that's okay and that this won't disappoint.

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

Dan, who was going by Klarion for some years now, had a massive problem. It was the huge kind of problem build on small bubbles of lies that then turned into this one giant bubble that was about to pop just because of one little question asked by his mom when his sister decided to throw him under the bus to deflect from herself and the fact that she was dating a demon. Don't get him wrong he still loves her, but man did he want to strangle Danielle right now.

"So Klarion, Ellie is right. When will I get to meet your friends you told me so much about?"

It was such an innocent question from his mom. And while his moms titles don't scare him, cause at some point in time they could have been his too, the happy dopey smile like nothing was wrong in the dimensions with little expectations directed at him was the scariest thing his mom could ever direct at him when he had asked THAT question.

So now Klarion was in need of a quick solution. When his mom had asked he had mumbled out a quick: "Next week maybe. We won't be busy with hero stuff then." He had started to form a plan. First of all, he needed to remember what all he had told his mom about his new and redeemed life on Earth 43 he had build for himself with the name Klarion Jackson Fenton-Nightingale.

Which fuck. There was a lot he had told his mom just so he wouldn't worry.

Cause now he also remembers that whenever he had gone out to cause some chaos he had made it seem to his mom like he was going out to bond with his new friend or help them with their hero duty. Well, in a way maybe his chaos causing could be seen as bonding. The ghostly kind, that is. And as for helping with the hero duty... he did give them work, something to do with their hero status. Anyway Klarion tried to remember all possible names he had dropped. Shit why did he also mention to his mom that he was working with heroes to make her proud? He should have name dropped some villains instead but nearly all of them were adults. He knew his mom would have frowned if he had only adult friends and no one around his age.

He was pacing his room in their castle. He need a plan, a good one at that. He knows he name dropped Robin, now Red Robin, Superboy and Impulse on a whim once. Superboy more so cause his mom had been interested in the Alien Heros of the Earth of the dimension he was partially living on now. He had mentioned Robin for the joke of knowing that there is a Dinner in an other Dimension with the same name. And because his Grandfather didn't like the Flash-clan which meant his mom didn't like them too much because of their messing with timelines either, he had mentioned being friends with Impulse on pure spite because of a punishment one day and to see their reactions. So he had to get these three on board anyway, and because for the heck of it he would get Wonder Girl involved too. It was never bad to have a girl in a friends group.

Klarion stopped his pacing. Turning towards his demonic ghost cat companion, kind of what Cujo was to his mom now. "Teekl, I think I have a plan. I will convince these Idiots, that shouldn't be a huge problem. Most of them are normale little flesh sacks." Teekl and him stared for some time at each other and after a moment Klarion huffed turning away with crossed arms. "It's a good plan don't be so sceptical, they are heroes right? They will not refuse my request!"

Well maybe Klarion should have planned this a bit better.

The next day Red Robin blinked at the witch boy up from the ground in the living room of what looked like to be an normal apartment. He had just been in Gotham, working on a case and now he was here? Looking to the left he also noticed that Superboy (the older), Impulse and Wonder Girl were also with him. They all looked stunned he observed and partially disoriented. Additionally they hadn't heard from Klarion since the last time they had foiled his plans on raging chaos upon the earth, that had been weeks ago.

"Kla-"

"I have summoned you heroes here. For the moment it is fruitless to try to leave because of the magic barrier." Okay rude to be cut of but that explained why he suddenly wasn't where he remembered to be last anymore. It was now Superboy who opened his mouth first but before he could even make a sound Klarion decided to speak over them again. "I have presents."

Four young heroes collectively blinked, confused, stunned and weirded out. As the which boy before them waved over to wards a table filled with boxes and packages. "I come in peace today, to proof that I brought these are presents, filled with various goods from different dimensions that should be to the liking of you all. Technologie, accessories, snacks, weapons, as well as clothing styles."

Red Robin shared a glance with his friends, a silent communication but before he once again could say anything Impulse was already by the table going through the stuff. They could here his 'oh's and 'ah's, which inevitably made them curious and they wandered over too. Klarion was not acting hostile at all yet but Red Robin did not trust that so he kept the which boy in clear view the entire time.

"Rob! You gotta see this! That actual futuristic Tech!"

"Look at these snacks."

"These accessories don't look to bad..."

His eye twitched when he noticed Klarion was sporting a smug look. Red Robin had to ask now, because this was not normal for the other. "Okay usually you would have started some big shot chaos plan by now. I don't buy this peace offering act and your way to formal talking. So what is going on?"

The other three, thankfully in Red Robins opinion, finally looked away from the tempting gifts and also turned their attention fully on Klarion. Who's smug smile falter as he let out a sigh and stared at them with what they could only describe as a frustrated look.

"My mom is planning to visit me."

"And?" Impulse asked between munching on three different bags of chips that where on the table.

"And he believes I am friends with you idiots."

They stared slack jawed. Impulse was pinching himself like he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Did one of their Villains, just informed them that their mom believes they were friends? Red Robin was starting to think he might be in a sleep deprived Hallucination.

"Why would she?" Wonder Girl questioned next to which Klarion glared at her with fire in his eyes.

"First of, my mom uses the pronouns he/Him. Be rude to my mom and I will find a way to make your life a permanent hell on earth." Wonder Girl blinked lifting her hands as in a sign of peace. "Second, my mom is under the believe that i work with heroes not against them. I do not have the heart to disappoint him after everything that happened in the past. So I embellished the truth a little."

"A little?" Superboy retorted sarcastically, to which they caught a light blush dusting the which boy's cheeks.

"Look my sister threw me under the bus and my mom wants to meet my friends now! So I need you idiots to play nice with me for when he visits!"

"And we will do that because?" Red Robin crossed his arms, watching their villain sceptically still not really buying this entire act. This was to strange of an behaviour change. Something was up, and he was going to get behind it.

Klarion on the other hand was starting to panic internally. His plan was not as he had hoped. The presents he had specifically gotten from other dimensions with what he believed was their interests did not work to make them simply accept his request. This was the last time he would listen to old man Vlad on how to bribe humans, he wasted his entire week on getting all that stuff. His mom was going to show up soon enough he need to have them act as his friends by then so he could remove the magic barrier. Or else his mom would notices he faked everything.

They left him no choice. He would have to throw his pride away for the sole reason to not disappoint his mom.

All four Young Justice Heroes blinked as Klarion suddenly threw himself on the ground before them into a pleading position.

"Please! I beg you, just for the time my mom is here. Please act like my friends!"

"I didn't think Klarion was a mama's boy...." Impulse whispered to the rest of them in pure disbelief as they stared stunned at the kneeling witch boy.

Cut to the heroes that noticed their teens were missing.....

"Where is he?" Batman growled at the Constantine who was sighing tiredly.

"Look mate, the way you and the other Spandex wearing friends explained it, made it sound like they got summoned by a being of the Infinit Realms." The blond man sighed lighting another cigarette eying the four heroes, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman and Flash. Zatanna was behind him pouring over a book about the realms and trying to find a tracking spell to trace it back and to where they could have been summoned.

"Don't you have something like a tracker on your boy?" Batman only growled something under his breath to which the Brite couldn't help to arch and eyebrow. Constantine was going to say something sarcasting as Deadman suddenly appeared a panicked look on him. "The Ghost King has chosen to come to our dimension."

"Say bloody what now?" All attention that had been on the heroes and their problem of missing teenage heroes turned now to Deadman and the news he brought with him. "The ghost, shades and spirits talked, for the king has decided to visit our Dimension. They are in an uproar, no one knows of why our King is on his way."

"Bloody fucking hell!" Constantine cursed. "We are fucking screwed! Isn't that guy a fucking tyrannical eldrich war maniac?!"

Deadman nodded solemnly and Constantine uttered another hearty and colourful 'fuck'. While the heroes present exchanged worried glances, not only were their kids missing but now a, by the sounds of it, highly dangerous being decided to appear in their dimension? Batman couldn't help but think that there had to be a connection to the missing teens and this.

Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms the Ghost King Castle...

Danny smoothed out his fur trimmed cape and adjusted his crown so it was floating nicely and evenly on his head. Today was the day he would get to meet his sons friends. He needed to make a good first impression. That was why he had chosen to take on his Ghost King form for this. With the wave of his hand he made an ice mirror appear before him, checking how he was looking once again. Once satisfied he nodded to himself looking over towards Fright Knight who was holding the plate of cookies he had baked himself. It was the fifth batch, and the only one that didn't turn out burned. He had needed Jazz help for this one to turn out well. It was only proper if he brought some cookies for the kids. Also he would have loved to bring his families fudge but... the last time he had tried making them had turned into a disaster.

"Thanks Frighty. Do you think Klarion's friends will like these? Wait don't answer! If they don't like them I will just get something else to thank them for taking care of my boy." Danny rambled on as he glanced at the plate of cookies in his hands. Why was he so nervous? He was just going to get to meet his little boy's friends. Sure his boy had dropped some stories about them and his adventures with them here and there. But hearing stories and meeting the kids were two different things.

Shaking his head Danny put on his best smile as he summoned a portal to Klarions apartment in the 43th Dimension of Earth. It was time to visit his boy in the place he had made his second home and thank the people that looked after his kid.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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theemissuniverse · 7 months

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MK 1 MEN REALIZE YOU’RE TOUCH STARVED

SUMMARY : Basically they’ve been super busy so they hadn’t been worried about sex until they realize how needy you really are. Fem reader.

WARNINGS : (MDNI)! praise, unsafe p in v, riding, cumming, some other stuff I probably forgot

MASTERLIST

LIU KANG

You were practically starving for intimacy. Your boyfriend, Liu Kang had his hands full with Earthrealm itself and you couldn’t even help him.

Liu Kang had forbid you to get involved in Earthrealm business because in the previous timeline, when Raiden brought you in it you had died. So, he wanted you to continue your normal life.

Though, Liu Kang made sure you were a worthy fighter just by the chance that maybe one of his enemies would try and hurt you. You would know how to defend yourself.

It had been weeks, close to a month. Liu Kang was there emotionally but was not there physically. You knew he was busy but god, did you think he wasn’t attracted to you anymore.

You were reading your book in the living room when you heard the door open. You didn’t bother to look up because you knew it was Liu Kang.

Liu Kang locked the door behind him. “Good evening, my love.” He walked over to you and gave you a kiss on the head. “How was your day?”

“Great until you got here.”

You were a very sarcastic individual so Liu Kang just took it as a sign that you were being sarcastic. Liu Kang sat beside you. “Did you eat today?”

Trying not to be annoyed was hard but you were so frustrated that you couldn’t hold it in. You slammed your book shut and got up from the couch. “I can’t even read a book in my own home.” You marched to your room.

Liu Kang now understood you were angry at him. He just didn’t understand why.

When you walked in the room, you shut the door and locked it. Then you turned around and there you faced the Fire God himself. You jumped back, startled. “I hate when you do that.”

“(Y/N), if I’ve done something wrong then you need to open up. We talked about this.”

That was true. Liu Kang did talk to you about you opening up more to him and communicating with him. It was just hard for you because you never really liked talking about your feelings. Especially embarrassing ones.

You sighed and placed the book on your dresser. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you. I’m just…frustrated.”

Liu Kang gently took your hands in his. “Whatever it is, we can face it together. Tell me what has you so frustrated.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to even look at him. “It’s just…you haven’t really…” You trailed off. Lucky and unlucky for you, Liu Kang was a patient man and he waited for you to say it. “You know…and I just feel touch starved.”

Liu Kang now understood what you meant and he could only smile. “I’m sorry, my love. I did not mean to. I am God and because I’ve been alive for so long, I don’t really have the physical needs as you do.” He brought you closer to his warmth. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.” Liu Kang gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. “Next time, just ask.”

You smiled shyly. “It’s embarrassing to ask…”

“You should feel comfortable to ask me.”

“Well technically you’re the one that made me so uncomfortable, creator so who’s really at fault here? So ha!”

Liu Kang shook his head and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “You, my one and only, are so strange.”

You were in a panting mess. Liu Kang was on top of you while you laid on your back. Your moans were uncontrollable and you were mad at him again for making you wait so long to feel like this.

Liu Kang watched you pant and he was mad at himself that he made you wait so long to feel this good.

Having sex with a god was always more pleasurable because well, he was a god. It was so much easier to get you to cum. It only took three minutes. Sometimes even two.

“Keep going, love. You’re almost there.” Liu Kang told you.

You made short breaths out as you were close to your release. You felt all around Liu Kang’s chest trying to hold onto something. “Oh, god. Oh Liu. I can’t.”

Liu Kang kissed your lips. He knew that sex with him was ten times more pleasure able than if he were human. “Breathe in and out, my love.” He watched as you took some breaths in and out. He caressed the left side of your face. “You’re doing so good.”

You felt your release close. “I’m so close. Please.”

“I got you.” Liu Kang held onto your thighs and continued to go at his slow and hard pace. “Cum on me, my love.”

You felt the wave of your orgasm wash all over you. Liu Kang didn’t stop until you had came over him completely.

He pulled out of you. Then leaned down to kiss you on your lips. His lips then went to your neck and your shoulder. “Never make me wait that long again.” You told him.

Liu Kang chuckled against kissing your skin. “I won’t, lovely.”

JOHNNY CAGE

You never thought in your life span that you would crave for Johnny Cage but you did. He was your boyfriend now so you should’ve been used to the feeling.

But it had been a whole week. A week that Johnny did not have intimacy with you which you found to be extremely weird. I mean you two would have sex at least five times a week so you could not believe he wasn’t on you.

You had to be the stay at home girlfriend while he made his new movie. You couldn’t even stand being around him anymore because that’s how touch starved you were.

But you were not going to initiate it because he always initiated it and you were not going to give him the satisfaction of how badly you wanted him.

You couldn’t hide your attitude towards him.

You finished making dinner. Johnny was back from work. “Babe! I’m back! It actually was better than yesterday.” He came into the kitchen and set his things on the counter.

Johnny came up behind you and hugged you. He kissed your cheek. “Damn you look hot cooking.”

Yup. You couldn’t hold your attitude back. You pushed his arms off of you. “Clearly, I don’t.” You mumbled under your breath.

He heard you though. He was confused. Of course you were. You were the hottest girl he knew. “What are you talking about, babe?”

You walked away from the stove and got out plates. You set them on the counter. “There’s dinner. I’m gonna take a nap.”

You walked into the bedroom and were about to close the door behind you but Johnny was too fast for you.

Johnny forced the door open and you rolled your eyes at him. You started walking over towards the bed, fixing the sheets while he stood in the doorway. “What’s up with you? Did I do something?”

“It’s what you didn’t do.”

Johnny looked at you completely confused. You were mad that he didn’t do something? “Baby, you gotta help me out here because I’m lost.”

You angrily folded the sheets before turning to look at him. “Are you cheating on me?”

Johnny’s eyes went wide at the accusation. “What?” He stepped closer in the room to close some of the distance. “(Y/N), I’m not cheating on you. What could possibly make you think that?”

You scoffed at him and you turned your attention back on the bed. “I highly doubt that thee Johnny Cage can go a week without having sex.”

That’s when Johnny put the puzzle pieces together. He laughed a little. “Babe, seriously?” He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. “Aw, I knew you wanted some of this Johnny Cage.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him off of you. “No. I don’t. I’m just stating it’s weird.”

“(Y/N), I’ve just been busy with the movie. Nothing weird has been going on. I promise.” He went back behind you and wrapped his arms once again around you. He started to kiss your neck. “If you wanted me, you could’ve just said something.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s embarrassing.”

Johnny turned you around so you were facing him. He gave you an amused look. “Oh? So it’s embarrassing when I ask you all the time?”

You crossed your arms at him. “That’s different. You’re a man.”

“(Y/N). Just get your sexy ass in the bed.”

He watched you as you could barely ride him. It amused him a little. You were begging to have him but you were in too much pleasure to ride him the way you wanted.

Johnny didn’t have his hands on you as he wanted to see how far you could go without needing any help.

It wasn’t long.

“Oh my god. Johnny, I can’t.”

“You wanted this babe. You gotta ride me yourself.” He said smugly. He rubbed your nipples a little causing you to moan. “You tell me you love me though and I’ll help you.”

“I love you. I love you so much. Please. It feels too good.”

Johnny chuckled and grabbed onto your hips. He then started to move you up and down at a good fast pace. You weren’t doing any work. “I love you too, baby.”

You moaned loudly feeling your clit constantly hit him over and over again. “Yes. Please.”

Johnny let out a grunt at the new pace and your moans combined. “Damn I missed this.” His right hand traveled lower to smack your ass and then went back to your hip. “I’m never missing out on this again.”

Your hands were on his chest as you rode him. You felt yourself starting to inch close to your release. “I’m almost there. Oh shit. Yes.”

“Come on, baby. Cum on me. You can do it.”

His words made you lose it. You threw your head back. “I’m cumming. Oh god, Johnny.”

Johnny groaned as he felt you cum on him. He helped your ride out your entire orgasm. “There you go. I knew you could do it.”

You tried to control your panting as you sat on him. You didn’t make him pull out on you.

When he saw this, he rubbed your hips gently. “You alright, babe?”

You nodded. You leaned to kiss him on the lips and then you went back to riding his dick again. He moaned. “I want more.”

Johnny had no complaints.

RAIDEN

With Raiden being Earthrealm’s champion it made him quite busy. You didn’t like it. He didn’t have any time for you and you were getting quite touch starved. It had been two weeks.

You were even more pissed when you found out that he was in Outworld helping Princess Kitana with something. Oh, that enraged you.

You were jealous. I mean, Kitana was a princess and you were just some Earthrealmer. You couldn’t really compete with that.

Washing the dishes, Raiden walked into the house. “I’m so glad to be home.” He walked to where you were at and kissed you on the cheek. “Hello, my heart.” He started to rub your back soothingly. “I missed you.”

“Go miss Kitana.” You told him bluntly and pushed him off of you.

He looked at you very confused. Raiden turned off the water and forced you to look at him. “What are you talking about, (Y/N)?”

You sighed a little, feeling bad that you were rude to him. “Nothing.”

“Is something troubling you? You know you can always talk to me.”

You bit your lip, slightly embarrassed at what you were going to say. “It’s just…you haven’t been around to…” Raiden waited patiently to hear you. “Make love with me and I feel like all your attention is on Kitana.”

“Oh, my heart.” Raiden lifted your chin up and gave you a kiss on the lips. “Trust me, I would spend all my time with you if I could but Lord Liu Kang has me going on missions that pertain to Outworld.” Raiden started to kiss your neck with sweet kisses. “I would make love to you every day if I could.”

You sighed happily at the kisses that were being placed on your neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so snippy with you.”

Raiden shook his head as he faced you. “You’re frustrated. I understand. Allow me to make you feel better.”

Raiden was eating you out as you laid on your back, his head between your thighs. You tugged on his hair. He licked all the right places and sucked on your clit greedily.

You moaned loudly. His hands were on your thighs and he continued to eat you out like you were his last meal. One thing about Raiden was that he knew how to eat pussy.

“Raiden. Yes. Oh god.”

He lifted his head from your pussy and licked his fingers. He then placed the fingers on your clit and started to rub it in circles.

You moaned louder and played with your breasts. Raiden watched you and licked his lips as he saw you throw your head back.

Raiden leaned over and kissed you on the lips, making you taste yourself. He wasn’t really a big tongue kisser but when he was horny, Raiden was the best tongue kisser in the world.

He licked the bottom of your lip before licking all over in the inside of your mouth. You moaned and tried to use your own tongue but when you did, Raiden wrapped his lips around it and sucked all over it.

You moaned incoherent nonsense and Raiden pulled away. “You look so pretty like this.”

The circles on your clit didn’t stop. You rubbed all over his chest. “Raiden please. I’m so close.”

When you said that, Raiden kissed you one last time. “I can’t wait to taste all of you in my mouth.”

Raiden went back between your legs and ate you out again. You moaned at the harsh licks and the way he sucked on your clit at a steady pace.

“Raiden. Oh god. Raiden. I’m cumming.”

He ate you out through out the entirety of your orgasm. Even to the point when you were done. You tried to push him off of you. “Too sensitive.”

Raiden came up from pussy and kissed you on your breasts. “Come on, love. You can’t give me one more?”

You couldn’t help but give in to Raiden’s words. You nodded and he smiled before going back down on you.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk #mk1 #liu kang #liu kang x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #raiden #raiden x reader #mk raiden #kitana

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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months

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Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.

Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!

Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it

Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.

Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.

They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.

Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.

Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.

A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.

"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"

This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.

Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.

"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."

The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."

Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"

This means, "We will meet the double tonight."

The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.

They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.

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

That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)

They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.

They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.

"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.

"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.

"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"

"You be surprised......."

Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.

There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.

Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.

"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.

"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."

"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.

He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.

"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"

"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.

Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.

"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.

"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."

Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."

Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Double Vision #Basically Danny is not impressed #All his villains are villains here too #That Batkids play Batman bingo #It's bonding so Bruce lets them

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lyomeii · 10 months

Text

the new duchess ronan

-> warnings: yandere themes, reader is called ‘mom’ and ‘mother’, mentioned abuse towards Charlize, reader literally dying of sadness in the first timeline, duke being jealous, gaslighting, reader gets sad and desperate.

-> request by anon! Hi! Can you do yandere Duke Ronan and new Duchess Ronan reader who always protects Charlize from her brothers and father? And when she decides to run away with Charlize, but Duke Ronan knows the plan. Thank you

-> a/n: I see…you got a type in man, don’t you anon? jk asides, it’s really fun to have someone requesting Duke Ronan and quite unexpected too. it’s was fun to write this.

-> a second marriage was a surprising news for everyone, specially the children of the dukedom who jaws were in the floor seeing their stepmother entering the living room with a smile in the face and gifts on the hands. they were suspicious at first, but quickly they warmed up with your presence, include the youngest of them, charlize.

-> the platinum blonde girl loved having you around, having someone that finally cares about her is more than enough to make Charlize happy with your arrival and rapidly, she began calling you ‘mom’. holding your hands whatever she wants with you, wanting to be carried once is possible and receive goodnight kisses from you every night.

-> those things are the main reasons she was happier, more alive and more comfortable to be out of her bedroom. there was no denying that you and the youngest ronan had a special relationship despite the many attempts from your husband and sons to break it. so it’s easy to say that you became a sobbing mess once Charlize suddenly disappeared.

-> not receiving any news from her whereabouts after that day she left the dukedom with a kiss and hug from you changed you completely. the gazebo where you spend time with her slowly ruined as you just sit there, deluding yourself that she would hug you from behind or maybe that she would call you from her bedroom to see something she just got.

-> you became a shallow version of yourself after losing your sweet daughter. the servants notice how you refuse to eat most of the time and your remaining family see how you stayed in charlize chambers when there was nothing to do. as much they tried to help you, nothing changed as you just rest down on your shared bedroom. waiting for your final breath.

—

duke ronan’s hand was gentle when removing the locks of hair away from yours eyes, making it possible to see him sitting next to your figure. a smile on his face as you take notice of him.

“what do you want?” your voice is harsh, no longer a sweet tone. and your eyes are cold now. “I already told you to leave me alone.”

despite your words against him, the man pressed a kiss on your forehead as he holds one of your hands. he is afraid of losing you, his eyes can show it to you and feeling him shaking in fear is also another way to notice it. he tried a lot of things and yet, nothing brought your health back, not even magic.

your skin is no longer warm, it’s felt almost like touching a cold stone from the garden, but he still loves you deeply. this man has fallen in love with so much that he is willing to give anything to make you happier, however, there is nothing he can do to brought your health back.

“I’m just checking your state, my dear.” he smiles, feeling your touch in his hands. “The boys are becoming even more worry about you, it’s been a while since you got up from bed.”

“whatever.” you rolled your eyes and took your hands away from him, wanting to be alone for longer. he should knows better than trying to act as the good guy after what he did with charlize before she disappeared. “I want to be alone, now leave.”

—

-> your death was a peaceful one, you were sleeping once happened, making your departure less painful. in the end, you believed that you would enter a eternal rest alongside others that you once loved…that was a naive thing to believed.

-> like it was just a bad dream, you suddenly wake up back in the past. not longer having those empty and lifeless eyes nor those fragile bones due the malnutrition, you are back to that young and happily version of yourself…could this mean that charlize is back too?

-> there was no time to waste as you rapidly got up from bed, not caring if you are wearing your pajamas nor the maids screaming from your name all over the halls, they don’t really matter. once you open her bedroom door to see your precious daughter sleeping, a smile grown in your face and immediately, you went to kiss and hug her numerous times, in the process you ended up waking up the girl.

-> of course, charlize was as much surprise as you are. to come back in time is one thing, but having her mother alongside is another and that made her so happy. the two of you began spending more time together than ever before, making your husband infuriating about it.

-> he began asking why you spend more time with your stepdaughter than your own husband. it’s clear as water that he was jealous of his own daughter, making you angry at him for it. how could a grown man act this way? an argument start between the two of you only to pause when his sons step in to separate their father away from you, making things even more difficult now.

-> then things start getting even more problematic, guards began escorting you whatever place you are and the duke himself always make you have all the meals with him and his own sons. the only reason you attend it is because charlize is there, quiet as mouse, but at least she is there to make things more easier and bearable, even though the others are visible of her presence.

-> soon, it’s time to charlize leave to work as one the prince’s tutor and of course, you are planning to come with her. the whole process was supposed to be secret and quiet one, just to make sure the duke won’t be suspicious or angry at the two of you. it was a good plan until akan (the first brother) discovery that you were planning to run away.

-> there was no deny that he was furious about you leaving him, dante (the second brother) and his own father behind! how could you do such thing to them? the boy began to tear up and this brought everyone’s attention towards you, even making the duke and dante coming to your direction. at least, charlize made her escape when everyone was going crazy about your failed attempt of escaping.

-> the duke, of course, yelled at you for acting like this. a mixed of anger and sadness was in voice as he lectured you for being reckless in acting this way. he gave you everything! a home, money, expensive gifts and a loving family, then you throw everything away just to abandon it because of charlize? the man is now desperate.

-> locking you inside the manor with multiple maids and guards following, making sure you won’t try to run away from the duke and his sons. transforming you in a prisoner of the same place you called home for years. as the very same man who promised to love you become the one responsible for your imprisonment.

-> life slowly become boring, there isn’t much thing to do as your husband locked you inside and even your own sons don’t let you step in the garden for fresh air, so it didn’t take much time you become that old version of yourself, the one that don’t care about anything or anyone.

-> the three men, of course, are desperate seeing you becoming a shallow version of yourself. you become unable to walk as meal stop being eating, not walking anyone as you refuse to get up from bed and the curtains closed to prevent the sunlight enter your bedroom. this made them so worry about you.

-> and now you are struck in a wheelchair until you get healthy enough to walk on your own, and dante (feeling a little guilty of it) always accompany you to daily walks around the garden with a smile on his lips. sometimes akan and the duke join, but mostly, it’s just you and your youngest son.

-> the duke brings breakfast on the bed, being the one to feed you when you refuse to pick the utensil or when you can’t barely stare at him. seeing you eating the little amount of food from the tray is already much a win for the nobleman, after all, you didn’t eat anything before.

-> in the afternoon, akan visits you whatever he is free, reading you a book and even introduce his wife to you. the girl is lovely, that’s for sure, the sweet smile on her face and desire to become a mother is truly inspiring. it’s sad that she and akan got into that argument one night, it was quite sad seeing that women crying at your lap and slowly realize that she might become like you.

———————————————————————————

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #manhwa imagine #i tamed a tyrant and ran away #i tamed a tyrant and ran away x reader #yandere duke ronan #Duke Ronan x reader #charlize ronan x reader #charlize x reader #yandere charlize Ronan #x female reader #female reader #x female y/n

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earthtooz · 1 year

Text

clingy!gojo x gn!reader, fluff, use of pet names, a little bullying from reader but that's okay- it's gojo /j, he's annoying and probs ooc.

gojo satoru is as codependent as he is powerful and you came to realise that the hard way during the timeline of your relationship. what began as a peaceful saturday morning lying together in bed has now become a total wrestling match, one that you were drastically losing in in comparison to gojo's unmatched strength.

"get off me, 'toru, i need to go buy groceries before the shops begin getting busy!" you huff, your hand on his shoulder doing nothing to make him budge no matter how hard you tried.

he whines, loud and pathetic in your ear. "don't leave! i'll be all cold and miserable!"

"oh boohoo. move," as an afterthought, you add: "please?"

he shakes his head, white strands tickling your chin as the sorcerer shoves himself further into your warmth, holding you with a kind of fervour that spiders have to their webs.

you don't know how you can get out of this one.

"please, love?" gojo loves it when you bring out pet names for him; something you monopolise in hopes of lowering his defence. "i'll be quick too. just a trip to the grocery store and then i'll be back, is that such a demanding request?"

"yes. i don't know what could happen to you out there, what if a special grade curse appears? i'd never forgive myself."

"then come with me."

"too cold for that. i'm staying here."

you roll your eyes. chivalry is dead. "glad to know that you've got my back. whatever. i can handle myself, 'toru, you know that."

"okay, but i can't- that's why you need to stay!"

"you have more cursed energy in one finger than i do my whole body."

he hmphs.

"you can destroy buildings for miles."

he hmphs again.

"your birth literally shook the jujutsu world."

the white-haired hmphs one final time, his cutesy act only doing so much when the grip he has around you contradicts it. gojo's strength is not something to be messed with but you just hope that he stops squeezing you soon because it was getting harder and harder to breathe. paired with his weight on top of yours, you don't think you two can get any humanly closer.

"'satoru," you groan, utterly exasperated at his stubbornness. "you're acting very sweet and all but i'm serious. we don't have enough food. we ran out of milk for your daily mocha-"

the sorcerer places delicate kisses along your collarbone, cutting you off as you shiver from the sensation, especially when his lips brushes over a sensitive part of your skin.

"-don't care."

"gojo," you murmur in a warning tone, any hint of affection draining out of your voice.

bad idea. you knew what using his family name would result in and in your sleepy, yet frustrated haze, you hadn't considered the consequences. not until gojo's clinginess intensifies, his head rising from your chest whilst one of his hands pause midway through the heart he was tracing on your skin. he's looking at you with eyes that glisten with love, worry and fear. you now feel guilt washing over you, unable to muster the words to apologise before he speaks up.

"please don't be mad, i mean well," your lover whispers, the sunlight that snuck through your blinds illuminating him beautifully, deliciously sculpting the planes of his back. "i love you so much, don't you know? i thought you loved me too."

you sigh, flopping your head back into your pillow.

gojo continues littering kisses here and there, a new sense of desperation lingering with his actions. "at select times," you quip.

"babe, that's mean!"

"just as mean as you trapping me here. i'm hungry, gojo, and i have things i need to do."

"stop calling me that," he whines, pushing himself up only to crawl up higher, his head now fitting into your neck from where it rested against your sternum earlier.

great. now you can feel even more of his weight as he flops atop you.

tapping his shoulder in surrender, the best you can mutter is a breathy 'you're heavy' before he expertly manoeuvres the two of you, all pressure disappearing immediately as you now lie on your side.

gojo looks down at you with so much love and adoration, that it sends you reeling, regretting looking at him. your resolve cracks even more with the gentle kiss he presses against your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away.

he seems to be even happier in this position, arms wrapping tight around your torso in a bone-crushing embrace, keeping you right against his exposed chest.

right against his heart.

this is a battle you've lost, you decide, surrendering by wrapping your arm around the white-haired's torso.

gojo doesn't miss the action, no, he revels in it and you don't even have to see him to know that he's smirking. smugness dripping in his tone when he asks, "oh? finally gave in to my charms, babe?"

"you're so annoying," you grunt, unwrapping yourself and shuffling around in gojo's hold to face away from your boyfriend.

once again, you don't even need to see him to see the astonished look he gives you, eyebrows furrowed and jaw dropped in disbelief. imagining it provides you with a little feeling of satisfaction.

"unbelievable!" gawks the sorcerer. "i am merely trying to show you my love and you do-"

"-'toru," you declare, the affectionate nickname only you use immediately silencing him. "go to sleep. or i'll leave your ass for everything you've put me through this morning."

detecting the airiness in your tone, he knows your threat cannot be farther from a lie. but still, he complies but not without murmuring a small 'unfair' before tucking himself into you, completely overwhelming you with his limbs.

"i love you," you confess, the words hovering into air, dissipating before long but gojo hears it. he always does. he's engraved the way you say those three words in his mind.

it sounds sweeter every time though, causing butterflies to erupt in his chest as gojo kisses your cheek. "i love you more," parting with a little bite, you swat him away as he sinks back into his position, laughing in amusement.

you end up going to the supermarket together that afternoon.

#i love delivering mediocre writing #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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sandeewithtwoe · 10 days

Text

Rough start

Nightmare has been changing scripts for a very long time, so when Ink learned he was about to meet the “hero” that would defeat him, he was very excited. Later he got mad that the hero also changes scripts lol

Ink belongs to comyet/myebi

Dream belongs to Jokublog

Core Frisk belongs to dokudoki

Transcription:

Ink: That’s it, you’re going back to the Omega Timeline and Core is babysitting you for a while

Dream: What?! But if I stay in the Omega Timeline, I won’t have enough energy to fight my brother!

Ink: WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD’VE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT! BEFORE YOU INTERACTED AND CHANGED THE STORY! BEHIND MY BACK!!

Ink: MON DIEU, EVERYBODY SAYS I HAVE A BAD MEMORY, BUT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU HAVE IT WORSE THAN ME! EVERYTHING I SAY TO YOU JUST GOES OUT THE WINDOW AND YOU DO WHATEVER YOU WANT BUT AT THE SAME TIME YOU CANT EVEN STAND UP FOR YOURSELF AND…

Dream: (Wow, I really messed up…)

Core: Don’t worry about Ink, he’s been fighting Nightmare solo for 400 years during your absence. He’ll be fine

#art #utmv #comic #ink sans #dream sans #core frisk #nightmare sans mention #nobody has ever seen ink this angry before lol #dream is changing scripts so that he doesn’t need to fight nightmare btw #he’s trying his best to NOT confront nightmare #because he’s still a kid and a bit in denial #‘Dream is very serious and will defeat nightmare no matter the cost’#No what if he’s actually just scared

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

water dragon ; aemond targaryen. (m)

the sequel to little dragon!

pairing ; aemond targaryen x tully!f!reader

synopsis ; aemond loved his wife and his children more than anything. to lose one of them... that would bring nothing but war to the seven kingdoms.

words ; 10.3k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), heavy angst, established relationship (married), parents au

warnings / includes ; major character death (please proceed with caution), blood & cheese, descriptions of violence/blood, unprotexted sex scenes, sex in the rain, jealous!aemond, foul language, you and aemond have three children (syraena, kyrion, myra), cameos of the rest of the hotd characters, syraena experiencing gender dysphoria :( aemond being a good father/husband (most of the time), kyrion is a dragon dreamer, aegon being gross and touching you inappropriately, so sorry if the valyrian isn't completely correct </3 the timeline for this fic is a bit shifted so that king viserys dies a couple years later than he does in the show (so the children have more time to grow) lots & lots of foreshadowing !! there will be a part three.

main masterlist.

A dull, heavy thud resounded across the training yard when Criston swung his morningstar at Aemond yet again, its thick spikes missing his cheek by a hair’s breadth as he gracefully spun away, the ball landing onto the ground. Before his mentor could strike him again, Aemond darted around him in the blink of an eye, slanting the longsword’s blade against Criston’s throat.

“If we were enemies on a battlefield, you would be dead,” the Prince murmured.

The Dornish knight raised his hands in surrender. “Then I am grateful we are neither enemies nor at battle.”

With a hum, Aemond let the sword retreat back to his side, turning to place it back on the weapons rack. Only, he found his gaze falling on a small girl amongst the onlookers, her e/c eyes wide, curious, and eagerly dark.

“Syraena? What are you doing here?” he asked his eldest daughter, striding up to her and staring her down with the most stern expression he could muster. It was an hour past noon, and that meant she was supposed to be at her embroidery lessons with the Septa. Or perhaps it was dancing lessons? Aemond couldn’t quite recall. Either way, she wasn’t supposed to be here.

Upon further inspection, he noted that her wispy hair was far shorter and more scraggly than usual, small bits of silver strands littered over her scrawny shoulders.

“What did you—did you cut your hair?” Aemond accused, his single eye narrowing as he knelt down in front of her. “Gods, your mother is going to have my head.”

“Do you like it, Kepa?” Syraena replied, wildly ruffling the short silver tendrils with a wide smile. “I found a sharp shard of glass by that broken window beside the mess hall… and I cut my hair with it!”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Aemond blew out a long, exasperated sigh. Though this wasn’t the first time Syraena had startled her parents, prone to impulsive recklessness, it didn’t make her proclivities any less hard on Aemond’s heart. “Darling, that is wildly careless. Don’t ever do that again, you understand me? Come on—you shouldn’t be here, your mother must be worried to death searching for you.”

Swiftly, he wound his arms around the six year-old, lifting her up so she would sit over his waist. Of course, Syraena being Syraena, pulled a sour face and began reaching out for Criston, who was observing on with an amused expression.

“But I want to watch you spar!” she complained, twisting in his grasp and kicking at his stomach. Aemond had to bite down on his tongue to swallow his groan of pain, but he held onto her tight nonetheless. “Kepa, let me down! Let me go!”

“You should be in your lessons,” Aemond chastised, striding up the winding stairs back into the Keep.

Pouting, Syraena let herself flop limply against Aemond’s shoulder. “I hate lessons. I hate the Septa. I hate being a girl.”

Raising a brow, Aemond glanced down at her before softly patting the back of her head. Though he hadn’t a clue what it was like to be a woman in Westeros, he could understand her feeling of not belonging amongst others who seemed to belong so easily. Syraena never got along with other girls her age, who were often afraid of her callousness and her tempestuous nature. In that respect, Aemond supposed his daughter was just like him.

“I’m sorry, my sea dragon. Perhaps I’ll let the Septa know that you no longer wish to dance.”

“And embroider!”

“Hm. That, as well.”

Syraena grinned widely—her curved lips reminiscent of yours.

“Kepa?”

“Mmh?”

“Don’t tell mother I cut my hair,” she whispered, eyes shining with worry.

It was hard for Aemond to suppress his smile. “I’m sure she’ll notice regardless of whether I tell her or not, darling,” he gently told her.

Her expression dropped. “I didn’t mean to cut it this short. I just don’t like my long hair.”

“You’re very beautiful either way, Syraena,” he easily replied, before stopping in front of his chambers, where he knew you were watching over their baby daughter. “Alright. You go on inside—I’ll go speak to your Septa.”

He set his daughter down on her feet. She loitered by the door, dragging her feet glumly.

With a bark of a laugh, Aemond nudged her forward. “Go on. Your mother won’t be angry. Not that much, at least.”

Aemond’s only son, Kyrion, was a quiet boy. Only five years of age, born less than eleven moons after Syraena, he was already of greater intelligence than most far older than him, growing a knack for reading and drawing. The maesters would often express that his mind was developing much quicker than what was deemed normal.

Not only that, but he was quite handsome, as well, with strikingly sharp features akin to his father, and a head of snow-white curls. His eyes were a pale shade of purple, always distant and clouded over with thought. From as soon as he began to talk, Kyrion often spoke in strange, twisted riddles, mystifying both you and Aemond to no end.

King Viserys, as sickly as he was, had claimed him to be a dragon dreamer. Alicent had hushed him then, thinking he was on another one of his senseless rambles, and gently asked the two of you to step out so he could get some rest.

Now, as Aemond sat with his son in the library, he pondered the possibility of it all. Perhaps Kyrion had a divine gift—the ability to see glimpses of the future. He would have to speak with you about it, see what you thought first.

Even if it were true, Aemond didn’t want to put any kind of unnecessary pressure on his son. Kyrion was only five, after all, no matter how startlingly intelligent he was.

“And what does this say?” He tested the boy, tapping his finger against the dusty Valyrian book.

Immediately, Kyrion replied in his soft, far-away voice, “Zaldrīzoti mērī ipradagon parklon. Dragons only eat meat.”

“Hm. Good.”

“It should be more specific,” said Kyrion, hands fidgeting beneath the table. “Dragons only eat cooked meat.”

A ghost of a proud smile hovered over Aemond’s lips. “That is correct—this book is old, from a time before maesters were able to record accurate, detailed information about dragons.”

Kyrion didn’t reply, flipping the worn, yellowed page.

“What does this mean?” he eventually asked, pointing at an unfamiliar word.

Aemond glanced over at the book, before blanching, and cleared his throat hastily. The paragraph was depicting a few different maesters’ debates on the mating practices of dragons—a topic of which Aemond was not too keen on broaching with his five year-old son.

“Mmh… nothing of importance. Keep on reading, my water dragon. You’re doing very well.”

Blinking up at him with his large, pale violet eyes. He seemed to sense his father’s discomfort, so he let the matter drop, returning his attention to the book. Aemond blew out a relieved breath—he’d surely have to tell you about this later tonight.

Myra Targaryen, the youngest of Aemond’s children at three years of age, was a sweet little girl with a soft heart, always wearing a gentle smile. She loved all things in nature, and had a near unbearingly kind soul. She loved singing and dancing, a stark contrast to Syraena, who turned her nose away at such activities. At times Aemond wondered how Myra could possibly be his kin, for she was far too pure and he was… certainly not.

Unlike her sharp-faced siblings, Myra’s features were much softer and healthily plump. Her hair was a shade darker than them as well, the curls a silver-gold hue of blonde. Though Aemond was hoping for another daughter that bore your beautiful eye color, Myra was born with his dark purple irises, nearly blue in certain lighting.

As you had left to soak in a bath, Aemond had taken it upon himself to put his river dragon to sleep, tucking her beneath a fleece blanket and brushing her flaxen away from her drooping eyelids, heavy with exhaust from the day.

“Ēdrū sȳrī, Myra,” he whispered, brushing a kiss upon her forehead. Sleep well.

“Night-night, Kepa,” she responded, grinning sleepily, dimples indenting her chubby cheeks. “Today I saw a butterfly in the gardens!”

“Mmh, was it a large butterfly?”

“No. It was very small—smaller than my hand! I named it Hūra, because it was white, like the moon.”

Finding her grin contagious, Aemond felt a smile flicker over his usually stoic demeanor. “A lovely name. Your Aunt Helaena loves butterflies, as well. Perhaps you can tell her all about Hūra tomorrow.”

Myra enthusiastically nodded, before sitting up against her feather-pillows, reaching up to her father to press a sweet kiss against his scar, just below his eyepatch.

By the Gods, he could nearly feel tears prick the corner of his vision, but he managed to subdue them for a minute, not wanting to weep in front of his young daughter, lest she grew worried for him.

“I like Kepa’s scar,” she mumbled as she settled back down to go to sleep. “How did you get it?”

Aemond was silent for a long while, unsure of what to tell her. “An accident,” he simply replied.

“Does it hurt?”

It did, at times. Not as often as it used to, but there were instances he could still feel phantom pains throbbing behind the leather patch. “Not anymore,” he lied, voice quiet.

If Myra had any other questions, she didn’t get the chance to ask them, already drifting off into slumber.

Aemond hummed, before rising onto his feet, making his way out of her chambers. To his surprise, you were hovering by the doorway, arms crossed and affection written plainly over your expression.

“I just put Kyrion to bed,” you whispered, leaning into his touch when he cradled your face with his palms with a quiet greeting. “He was speaking in riddles again—something about a deal with a stag?”

The two of you began making your way down the hall, to your shared chambers. “Stag?” he asked. “Baratheons?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head, sighing. “I worry for him.”

Aemond slipped into the room after you, shutting the door behind him. He gathered you in his arms, capturing your lips with his in a chaste kiss. When he pulled away, he studied your concerned features—just as beautiful as the day he’d met you.

“We’ll be fine, dōna embar,” he reassured you, leading you to bed with a protective hand resting over your lower back. You loosely smiled at the nickname—sweet sea. “The dragon-trouts are strong. No house, stag or otherwise, could ever lay a hand on them.”

Instead of responding, you kissed him again, your nose bumping against his in your haste. The both of you laid down on the tall mattress, the promise of sleep whispering sand into your ears.

Before you could fall into a dreamless rest, however, Aemond quietly murmured, “I’m assuming Syraena didn’t tell you she cut her hair with a shard of glass she found by a broken window. Kyrion also asked about mating practices whilst we were in the library. And Myra wanted to know how I got my scar.”

Startled at the sudden barrage of information, you abruptly sat up, eyes wide, sleep suddenly the very last thing on your mind. “What?”

The next morning was dreary.

It was a rare thing for rain to grace the capital, as it was usually arid and warm. But the skies were grey and thunderous, miniscule pinpricks of water beginning to fall from the dark clouds. You stood on your chamber’s balcony, enjoying the cooler temperatures and the light drizzles dampening your skin, your hair, your sleeping shift. It’d been several moons since it last rained—compared to your original home, the Riverlands, King’s Landing simply paled in comparison. How you missed the feeling.

Aemond, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to the change in weather. He stepped out to join you, one of his spindly hands reaching out to grasp the damp fabric around your waist, the other moving upward to tilt your chin so you’d look at him.

“How beautiful you are, ābrazȳrys,” he whispered, trailing kisses down from the corner of your lips to your jaw. The Valyrian word for wife was uttered with an extra husky tone. “The hour is quite early—the children are still fast asleep.” There was a rough, needy scratch to his voice, indiscreetly conveying his lustful intentions.

With a wanton grin, you replied breathily, “Fuck me in the rain, Aemond. Fuck me until I can’t wa—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Aemond was already shoving you up against the stone railing, his hot mouth slanted desperately over yours. You kissed him back with just as much vigor, curling one of your legs around his waist. Already, you could feel his length hardening, pressing against your lower stomach.

You moaned lewdly into his mouth when the hand that had been under your chin snaked further downwards to grasp at your breasts through the drenched shift, his nimble fingers pinching at your sensitive peaks. His other hand relinquished his grasp on your waist, slipping beneath the fabric between your thighs and running a finger through your folds. The action made you cry out, grasping his forearms for dear life.

“You’re already drenched for me,” Aemond susurrated, pulling away from your lips, which you had chased after with a sigh, littering kisses against your bobbing throat. “Ñuha jorrāelagon.” My love.

“Please, Aemond,” you croaked, needing more. “Please, I need you inside me.”

With a hum, Aemond swiftly shoved your damp shift up to bunch around your waist, leaving your lower half completely bare for him.

“Who am I to deny you, embar?” he whispered, biting the outside of your ear, before slowly sliding his leaking, throbbing length into your cunt. “Fuck! Mmh—you take me so well, sweet wife.”

Slowly, he began rocking into you, prideful at the way you rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Your shift, clinging against you like a second skin thanks to the rain, made the motions of your heaving, bouncing breasts all the more enticing. He ducked his head to freckle kisses over your chest as he thrust into you, murmuring praises into the wet fabric.

A clap of thunder drowned out the obscene noises the both of you were making.

Wildly, Aemond tore himself out of you, extinguishing the fiery complaints on the tip of your tongue by turning you over and pushing your stomach into the railing, so you could face the city. You were far too high up for anyone to clearly see, but the thrill of it was there, nonetheless.

Your husband slid back into you with a deep groan and a string of curses, sloppily pounding you from behind as he neared his peak. He wound an arm around you to languidly stroke at your pulsing clit, which had you bucking back into him with a surprised choke of his name.

It wasn’t long until you collapsed against him, your cunt clenching around his cock like a vice, white stars bursting out in front of your vision. Not too soon after, Aemond spilled himself within you, his hot cum dripping out of your core and down your thighs, panting against your shoulder.

“Mmh,” you moaned once he slowly pulled out, so as to not overwhelm you with overstimulation. “I do hope it rains in King’s Landing more often.”

“If it leads to more of this, then so do I,” Aemond replied, turning you around with gentle touches to kiss you soundly. “For now, how does a hot bath sound?”

Myra’s shrieks of laughter echoed across the large chambers as she clumsily ran away from Syraena, who was enacting a large, hungry dragon searching for her prey.

“Kepa, help me!” she screamed, scrambling to hide behind her father’s legs. Amused, Aemond picked up his youngest girl, setting her on his hip. His eldest clung to his shin, forcing Aemond to drag the both of them across the room as they squealed in delight.

“Faster!” Syraena ordered. Aemond made a mental note to tell Criston he was most likely going to be late for training today, knowing his girls probably wouldn’t let go of him for the next few hours.

On the other side of the chambers, you sat by your son next to the fireplace, sipping on a chalice of spiced apple cider. Kyrion was sprawled out on the expensive chaise, the corner of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrated on drawing on a piece of parchment with a coal-tipped pencil.

“Mother, look,” he said, pulling your attention away from your husband and the excited girls. The paper was pushed onto your lap, covered with black smudges and hastily drawn lines. “This is what I see in my dreams.”

You blinked, studying the drawings closer. “What is it, honey? Are those trees?”

His white hair flew every which way as he vehemently shook his head. His small hand pointed at the six figures, hovering a few inches above the uneven ground. “Those are people. They didn’t bend the knee.”

Horror’s dark fingers wrapped around your heart, and you reared back to stare at your son. “Kyrion, what is this? You… have you seen this?”

His pale violet eyes met your terrified ones. “In my dreams,” he repeated, voice soft and tame, as if he hadn’t just drawn a picture of six lords hanging from the gallows. “You don’t have dreams like those?”

Still in shock, you shook your head, mute.

Kyrion studied you for a moment longer, before grabbing another sheet of paper to start drawing again. “You’re lucky, mother. Sometimes I feel it.”

“Why is that, Kyrion? What else do you feel?”

The little boy shrugged. “The milk curdles, the blood spills.” He fell quiet after that, clearly done with the conversation.

Struggling for words, you blew out a long breath, before looking back at the parchment. You leaned forward to press a kiss to his head, patting down his short white curls, before standing up and making your way to Aemond, his drawing in hand. Myra had somehow ended up on his shoulders, yelling for help as Syraena jumped around, trying to catch her little sister’s flailing feet.

“Mama,” the young river dragon cried, reaching out to you with tearful purple-blue eyes. “Syraena bit me!”

True to her word, there were shallow teeth marks imprinted in her chubby shin. Syraena grinned at her handiwork, looking none too apologetic.

“Aemond!” you sharply reprimanded, which made your husband flinch at the sudden attention, puzzled as to why the blame was placed on him instead of Syraena. “Gods, did you just stand by and watch as your daughters mauled each other?”

“I was outnumbered, darling. They are vicious little things, our girls,” Aemond lightly replied, letting go of the golden-haired girl so she could cling onto you, sobbing into your neck. At your stern expression, Aemond added on, “Syraena, say sorry to your sister.”

With a quick tongue, she quickly said with years of rehearsed practice, “Sorry, Myra. Can I come watch you train now, Kepa?”

Before he could reply, you stepped in. “Ah-ah, Syraena. You need to go to the Septa and apologize for running away from your lessons yesterday. You may be excused from embroidery and dancing, but that doesn’t give you the right to be rude.”

Glum, Syraena glanced at her father, who only beckoned her along. “Listen to your mother.”

With a heavy exhale, the silver-haired girl stomped out of the room to do as she was bid.

You traced your hand along the bite mark on Myra’s leg. “It’s not too bad, sweetheart. Go on—go ask your brother if you can draw with him.”

Sniffling, Myra slid down from your arms and waddled off to sit by Kyrion, who wordlessly scooched over to make space for his little sister.

“What’s wrong?” Aemond asked, noting the worry in your expression. The once light-hearted atmosphere seemed to dissolve away in an instant.

Pursing your lips, you handed over the drawing.

“Kyrion said he saw this in his dreams. People hanging… he said they didn’t bend the knee,” you whispered.

Aemond studied the coal-streaked parchment, eye narrowed. “Perhaps that’s all it was… just a dream.”

“Or it could be a vision. Your father said it himself—our son is a dragon dreamer,” you responded, gripping his forearm. “Aemond, I’m worried that war is upon us. Sooner than we think it is.”

There was little Aemond could truthfully say to comfort you, and so he simply drew you close, breathing in your homely scent—pleasantly noting that he could still smell the rain on you.

“It’ll be alright,” he murmured sincerely. “I won’t let anything happen to you, or our family. I’ll keep you safe.”

Blinking away the tears stinging the corner of your eyes, you pressed your nose against his throat. “I’m not sure you’d be able to, husband. Not in a war for the iron throne. Nobody is safe from that.”

Your law-sister, Helaena, had always harbored a gentle, sweet soul—a direct opposite to her brother and husband, Aegon. The very thought of being trapped in a loveless marriage, made to squeeze out heirs for a monster of a man was already nightmarish enough… you couldn’t fathom what it was like for Helaena to endure such a life. Nonetheless, she was often as happy as one could be, dreamily smiling and murmuring unintelligible words to herself.

That evening you found yourself having tea with her, listening to her speak about the strange weather and the bugs she had found washed up in the gardens due to the rain.

“Many worms, yes,” she mumbled, fiddling with a wooden carving of a cockroach. “Worms and drowned ants. Ants and drowned worms. Beetles, as well, yes.”

You smiled, glancing at her children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, playing with yours—though Kyrion wasn’t really playing with his cousins, more just standing in the shadows and silently watching his sisters play with them. He truly was a copy of his father, after all.

“The poor creatures,” you surmised. “Rid of their homes and families just because of a bit of rain.” A bit of guilt twinged within your chest—just earlier today, you had told Aemond you wished for it to rain more.

“Oh, it’s not all that bad,” Helaena hummed, looking up at you with a mild grin. “Death gives way to more life. There will soon be new worms, new ants, new beetles. It’s simply the way of nature.”

You nodded, setting down your teacup. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just a shame that it has to happen in the first place.”

To your surprise and none of Aemond’s, all the childrens’ dragon eggs hatched within their cradles. They were growing larger and larger every day, being looked after by the dragon keepers before the children could ride them.

Today, Aemond took them down to the Dragon Pit, where his children were going to bond with their respective beasts. You were invited to come, as you always were when Aemond went off on his excursions with the kids, but you had wrinkled your nose and turned back to your book.

“I have no taste for stinking of dragon today, thank you,” you curtly replied, grinning down at your book. “Don’t you think Myra is a bit too young to bond with her dragon? She’s only three.”

“It doesn’t hurt to get acquainted,” he swiftly replied, before bending at the waist to slant a sweet kiss to your hairline, before taking his leave to head out of his chambers and wrangle his kids down to the Pit.

They were excited to go, Syraena most especially, practically sprinting down the corridors. He called out after her to slow down, but she paid him no mind.

The Dragon Pit smelled of smoke and charred meat and something distinctly dragon.

Keepers brought out the three dragonlings, playfully nipping at each other’s wings and yipping as if they were young pups.

The largest of the trio was named Aerion—Syraena’s dragon. He was a slender beauty, with shining black scales and sharp, crimson wing membranes. With the Keeper’s nod, Syraena confidently marched forward, stroking her dragon’s head, a toothy grin plastered across her lips. Aerion seemed to purr beneath her touch, plumes of grey smoke falling from his nostrils.

Next to come forward was Kyrion’s dragon, his rippling scales a dark shade of green and sharp eyes a molten amber. “Tyvaros,” Aemond heard his son mumble his dragon’s name. “Tyvaros.” A bit more timid, Kyrion hesitantly stepped forward and, with the Keeper’s approval, he reached out for the small green dragon. He was the calmest of the three, leaning forward to gently nudge his head against Kyrion’s shoulder.

The smallest of the hatchlings was Goldentooth, a pale, cream-hued dragon with aureate spikes running down her back and along her tail. She was Myra’s to claim, having been the very last to hatch.

“Go on, Qelbar.” He gently nudged his flaxen-haired daughter forward. River, he affectionately called her. “Don’t you want to bond with her?”

Myra nodded, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

“I can’t see a reason why she wouldn’t like you,” he calmly responded, patting her back. “Your brother and sister are getting along with their dragons just fine. It took me a long time to bond with a dragon, as well. You’ll get there, eventually.”

His words seemed to instill some courage into her, and so she shuffled along to the last Keeper, murmuring hello to her dragon. It wasn’t long until the fear subsided, and the small dragon was already climbing all over her arms and shoulders.

After an hour of bonding, the Keepers were hoarding the dragons further down into the Pit for feeding, and in turn, Aemond took the children back up into the Keep. They all stank of dragon, something you definitely weren’t going to be happy with, but had wide smiles on their faces nonetheless.

There was a hearing carried out on the subject of the heir to Driftmark (which was settled in an unsettlingly gorey manner, courtesy of Daemon Targaryen), which meant Princess Rhaenyra and her sons were back in King’s Landing for quite a while, to Aemond’s displeasure. You, on the other hand, bore no ill-will to the Princess, and were rather excited for the royal dinner to be held the next day.

The night after Vaemond’s beheading, Kyrion had tugged on your skirts and asked if you could accompany him to the library so he could return his book.

“Alright,” you told him with a small smile. “But we must be quick about it—the hour grows late, and I can see how sleepy you are.”

The purple-eyed boy nodded, taking your hand as the two of you made your way down the dark corridors, to the library. When the both of you turned the corner, you nearly ran straight into Lucerys, jumping back in surprise.

“Oh, Gods! My apologies, my Princes,” you exclaimed, flustered at the sudden appearance of Rhaenyra’s sons. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Lucerys tilted his head. “No need to apologize, Lady Tully.”

“Targaryen. Tully is my maiden name—I’m married to Prince Aemond now,” you gently corrected.

“Evidently so,” said Jace, glancing at your son with a polite smile. “This must be my little cousin. Kyrion, isn’t it?”

The white-haired boy stared up at him with his pale eyes. “Ice and fire. Arrows and seas. Pacts and death. I saw you in my dreams.”

“Kyrion,” you hastily reprimanded, mortified that your son was speaking of death in front of Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest son, gathering the small boy up in your arms. “Sorry, he must be tired. It’s his bedtime—”

“He doesn’t look much like you, does he?” Lucerys observed, finding it eerily strange to be staring at a little boy that was a near carbon copy of the bane of his childhood.

Brows furrowing, you hesitantly replied, knowing the stale animosity between him and your husband, “I… I suppose not, my Prince. He takes after his father. My daughters, too.”

“Ah, then we must arrange to meet them. I’m sure your children would enjoy playing with my little brothers, Aegon and Viserys. They must be around the same age,” said Jace in an amicable manner.

Before you had a chance to respond, a familiar voice spat, “And why, pray tell, do you think I would ever allow my children near you and your filthy kin?”

Aemond appeared from out of the shadows, features set in one of cold fury. Both Jacaerys and Lucerys took a step back, shoulders stiffening. They had seen him training earlier today—it didn’t go past their notice that he had become incredibly skilled in combat over the years. In no way would either of them be a match for him.

Wary not to allow a fight to break out, you reached out to place a calming hand on his arm. “Aemond—” you gritted out.

“Leave us,” he growled.

Teeth gnashing together, you shook your head and whispered, “Aemond, I don’t want there to be any bad blood between us.”

“Take our son and go,” he said, more gently this time. To you, Jace and Luke were just boys—sweet boys with kind hearts. To Aemond, however, they were the monsters who took out his eye. They were a threat to him and his family’s safety.

Exchanging a worried glance between him and Jacaerys, who nodded at you to take your leave, you blew out a frustrated breath, before hastening away with Kyrion in your arms. It seemed the two of you would have to take a trip to the library another day.

Lowering his voice, Aemond calmly told the two brothers, “Speak to my wife or my children again, and I’ll have the both of you fed to my dragon.”

Luke swallowed nervously, but Jace stood his ground.

“Is that all, Uncle?” he challenged, eyebrows cocked.

Aemond fixed a sharp glare on them, nose upturned. With an irritated grunt, he turned and strode off after you, leaving the two bastard boys stunned and mildly confused in his wake.

Once he had made sure his girls were safely tucked in their beds, Aemond paid his son a visit, sitting by his side.

“I apologize for interrupting your trip to the library, water dragon,” he murmured, patting down the boy’s messy white curls.

Kyrion chewed on his bottom lip in thought. “Why don’t you like them, Kepa?”

Aemond’s single eye searched his son’s gaze, completely sincere in his curiosity. “A story for another time, when you’re older,” he replied. “Your mother said you’ve been drawing what you see in your dreams. Can you tell me about them?”

“Which ones?” he asked.

The one-eyed man felt sick at the thought of his little boy having to watch a thousand lives pass by in his visions, most having to inevitably end in death. It was a curse to be a dragon dreamer, he thought with a grimace. A burden.

“Whichever you want to tell me about, tresy.” Son.

Kyrion’s pale eyes seemed to mist over, and he fixed his gaze on a random candle across the room. “I see you wearing a crown. You sit on the Iron Throne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

It seemed his son had mistaken Aemond’s befuddled expression for anger, as he shrank away from his father with a frown. “I’m sorry, Kepa. Don’t be angry with me.”

Aemond softened. “I’m not angry, Kyrion. I was just… shocked.”

Not all of Kyrion’s visions came true, did they? Aemond tried his best to wrack his mind for the dozens of times his mystic ramblings lead to nowhere.

“I also see mother sailing away on a ship with Syraena and Myra. She looks sad,” he quietly spoke. “I don’t like that dream very much. Can I go to sleep now, Kepa?”

Blowing out a small breath, Aemond mustered a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his worried eye. “Yes, of course. Sleep well, little dragon.”

Hastily, he stood back up on his feet, blowing out the candles around Kyrion’s chamber, before striding out the door. His head was spinning with a million thoughts at once, his son’s wispy voice echoing within his mind.

A crown on his head. His wife and his girls on a ship. Seven hells… what was to become of his family?

Myra was humming a sweet song of summer, chubby cheeks rosy with the warm breeze that blew through the Godswood. She was seated in front of you over a yellow blanket situated on the ground. In your hands, you were weaving the little girl’s golden hair into an intricate braid, small wildflowers slotted in between the crevices.

A little ways away from the both of you, Syraena was running circles around the Weirwood tree, fighting off invisible enemies with a long, wooden stick she claimed to be her sword.

“There you go, darling,” you said, patting Myra’s shoulders once you were done. “Syraena, come here! I want to fix your hair!”

Your eldest girl huffed and puffed as she stomped over, her short silver strands sticking up every which way. “What’s there to fix?” she grumbled, plopping down in front of you.

“Perhaps if you hadn’t foolishly sliced it all off with a shard of glass, it wouldn’t resemble an uneven rat’s nest sitting upon your head,” you reprimanded.

Giggling, Myra clapped her hands. “Rat’s nest!” she parroted.

Syraena scowled. “It’s not fair. You let Kyrion have short hair. I want to be a boy, like him.”

“If you wanted short hair, you could’ve just asked. Lailena would have gladly cut it for you,” you said, brandishing a wooden comb to gently run it through Syraena’s thin silvery strands. “Do you want to know what your father said when I was first pregnant with you?”

Syraena shifted with a grimace as you yanked at a knot in her hair. “What?”

“He said he didn’t care whether you were a boy or a girl. That you were his blood, regardless. His tempestuous sea dragon,” you said with a small smile, mimicking a sour face at her nickname. “And Kyrion came next, our tranquil water dragon. Then lastly, Myra, our sweet river dragon.”

When you were done, you had Syraena turn around so you could inspect her hairline, brushing back any stray bits of hair that escaped your comb. “All finished. Beautiful, handsome… I’ll call you whatever you want me to call you, sweetling.”

She chewed at the inside of her cheek, nodding. “Can I go play knights with Jaehaerys now?”

“Go on,” you lightly nudged her away, an exasperated smile tugging at your lips, knowing full and well her hair was going to be all mussed in no less than half an hour of playing.

Before Syraena could get up and scramble away, however, a figure approached the three of you. She was clad in a black cloak, detailed with fine red thread in embroideries of flames and dragons. Golden jewelry decorated her pale skin, her long hair like sheets of pure snow.

The Princess Rhaenyra.

“Princess,” you breathily greeted, mind flashing back to last night, when you had bumped into her sons.

You were about to get up to bow, but Rhaenyra quickly said, “No need, Lady Y/N. My apologies, I wasn’t aware the Godswood was occupied. If you’d like to be alone—”

“Oh, no, it’s quite alright, Princess. It’s a space to be shared, after all,” you said with a courteous smile.

Rhaenyra studied you carefully, her purple eyes taking in your form. It was a strange thing, she thought. You were married to her half-brother, and mothered her childhood friend’s grandchildren. A childhood friend that was her friend no longer.

With you, however, perhaps the story could be different.

A genuine smile graced the Princess’ lips. “These are your girls?” she asked.

The taller and older of the two most certainly took after her father, with her sharp features and silver hair, though she bore your eyes and your smile. The younger was plump with a softer face, and had more blonde than white hair, her large eyes a deep shade of violet.

“Yes, this is Syraena, my oldest. And this is Myra,” you told her. “My son Kyrion is in the library at the moment, with his father.”

“His father,” Rhaenyra echoed quietly, voice distant. The memory of little Aemond in front of her, eye slashed out, and Luke cowering behind her with a bleeding, broken nose flashed into her mind. Clearing her throat, she reeled herself back into the present by saying, “Your children are very beautiful. Have you considered any potential suitors for them yet?”

Your eyes widened simultaneously as Syraena’s head whipped up to stare at you.

“No,” you replied, a tad too quickly. “I don’t think I’d want to subject them to that until they come of age. Or until they want to.”

The Princess tilted her head to the side with a mild laugh. “If your daughters were anything like me when I was a teenager, then you’d find the latter quite a challenge.”

“Yes, Queen Alicent has told me of your youth… how you rejected nearly all the contenders for your hand,” you replied. “I can’t say I could relate. Aemond was my first and only suitor.”

She hummed in thought. “I only asked because I just had my sons betrothed to their cousins.”

Right. Jacaerys and Lucerys were to wed Baela and Rhaena.

So that was why she asked. She wanted to know if Alicent was scheming, just as she had been. Betrothals and weddings were equivalent to political currency in times of war.

“I don’t plan on wedding my children off any time soon,” you reassured her. From the corner of your eye, you could see Syraena’s shoulders loosen up. The prospect of marriage was not one she was particularly interested in.

“I see,” Rhaenyra said, though her face was much more relaxed now than before. “I shall go wash myself before supper tonight. I look forward to seeing you there.”

With that, she turned to take her leave. Myra looked up at you with a toothy grin. “Can I come with you to supper?”

“It’ll be past your bedtime,” you said, rising to your feet and picking her up to place on your hip. “But I promise we can spend the entire day together before that. Come on, Syraena, I’ll drop you off at Jaehaerys’ room.”

That evening’s royal supper was a disaster.

It started off well enough, with several toasts from the adults, and an additional one from Jacaerys dedicated to his uncles and his cousins’ good fortune. The King gave one long, hunkering speech on unity and the togetherness of the dragon’s house, wheezing through his words all the way.

Only then did the feast begin, consisting of a large assortment of roasted meats and soups and plates of steaming bread. There were also cold platters of appetizers passed around, full of cheeses, figs, and grapes. Viserys had barely eaten a bite before he had to be escorted back to his chambers, past his point of exhaustion.

Aegon had spent most of the dinner tormenting Jace and Baela on their future marriage. When he grew bored of his nephew’s stoic demeanor, he turned to you, his good-sister. It was evident the Prince was quite drunk as he blathered on and on about the most trivial topics as you gingerly drank your hearty soup, though you didn’t have much of a stomach for it anymore.

The last of the toasts came from Helaena as she congratulated Baela and Rhaena on their betrothals, subtly dunking on her husband before she drank with a dreamy grin.

Not too long after, music started playing, a symphony of strings and bells, and Jace had offered his hand to Helaena, much to Aegon’s dismay.

In an effort to retaliate, Aegon leaned close to your ear, placing a hand on your thigh beneath the table. You had jerked away from his touch, glancing at Aemond, who sat on your other side.

“Care for a dance with me, good-sister?” He smelled of wine and a general foul dampness.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “That’s quite alright, my Prince. I don’t think you’re in a state to dance with me.”

“Nonsense, Lady Y/N, I am as sound as the day I was born!” he drunkenly hiccuped, words slurring together. His hand found its way back to your thigh, fingers gripping tighter this time. You tried to yank your leg away, nearly standing up with the effort.

Sensing your discomfort, Aemond growled out, “Leave my wife alone, brother.”

The song drew to a close, and Helaena returned to her seat, beaming brightly.

“Or what?” Aegon cackled, clearly enjoying seeing his brother get riled up. Thankfully, his hand slipped away from your leg to grip another chalice of wine. “What will you possibly—”

Before he could finish, Jacaerys stood between you and Aegon, offering his hand.

“If I could have this dance, Lady Targaryen?” he asked, emphasizing the family name in memory of your correction last night. His expression bore one of concern, obviously coming here to offer you an escape from Aegon.

Sparing a glance to your husband, who had taken to silently bristling, you nodded once.

“Of course, my Prince,” you said, taking his hand. Much to your satisfaction, Aegon had looked like he was struck across the face.

Off the two of you danced—spinning and twirling and laughing the entire time. Aemond was never too fond of dancing during the celebrations, always cautious of the stares, much preferring to dance with you in the privacy of your own chambers. Watching you openly have such fun with Jacaerys, however, made jealousy coil tight within his abdomen. You were smiling so widely—a smile that he had the joy of seeing every morning. To see it elicited because of his bastard nephew kindled an envious, green flame inside him.

Then came the pig.

And Lucerys’ none-too-discreet giggling.

Something in Aemond snapped.

The music halted as he slammed his fists onto the table, and his wife hastily stopped dancing with Jacaerys to see what the commotion was.

Of course, Aemond simply couldn’t help himself. In front of the entire family, he called his nephews Strong boys.

Pandemonium broke out. Jacaerys had let go of you to storm forward and land a punch on your husband, which seemed not to affect him in the least, shoving the brown-haired boy to the ground.

Aegon, eager to join the chaos, had grabbed Lucerys by the scruff of his shirt, shoving him into a searing platter of fish. “A gift for the new Lord of Driftmark!” he announced with a wild, manic grin.

In the end, Daemon had been the one to put a stop to the scuffle, staring down Aemond with raised brows. With a frustrated hum beneath his breath, your husband stormed out of the mess hall, making his way upstairs to your shared chambers.

You scrambled out after him, lifting your skirts to give you space to run. It was improper to leave without bidding the rest of the family goodbye, but then again… nothing about the dinner had been proper at all.

Once you had rushed into the room, Aemond roughly slammed the door shut, pushing you up against it. His fingers were already undoing the laces on your back, his lips sealing shut over yours.

“Aemond,” you murmured against him, lightly pushing at his chest. “Stop, for just a minute.”

Your husband pulled back at your request, single violet eye ablaze.

“What… Gods, why would you do such a thing? Why would you go out of your way to torment them?”

“You know very well why,” he quietly gruffed, reaching behind to pull off his eyepatch, tossing it onto a small table by the door, the sapphire in place of his lost eye gleaming dully beneath the moonlight. Your lips parted to ask him something else, but he cut you off by gripping your chin, whispering in a possessive fashion, “Hush, ñuha dōna embar. Seven hells, you’re more beautiful than ever. And you’re all mine.” My sweet sea.

“Don’t hush me!” you hissed, brows knitting together. “Aemond, Jacaerys will one day be the crown prince when Rhaenyra ascends the throne. It is not wise to provoke them in such a manner.”

Blowing out a heavy sigh, Aemond stroked your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “They’re bastards, my love. The throne is not theirs to take. And my sister… the realm will not accept her as their ruler. You know this, jorrāelagon.”

“They swore an oath! Our families swore oaths to her. I don’t know about you, but I’m not too keen on becoming an oathbreaker,” you reminded, softening beneath his touch. “Aemond, I don’t want to fight with you. I just don’t want you to do that again. If not for me, then for our children. Don’t go picking fights where it’s not needed.”

Aemond shut his weary eye. If Myra had seen him tonight, she would surely be afraid of him.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m sorry. I got caught up in my anger.”

You leaned forward to kiss him, soft and gentle, and Aemond wasted no time in reciprocating, pressing you back against the door. Off came your dress and down came your styled hair with Aemond’s skilled fingers. In no time, Aemond had your legs wound around his waist, his coat unbuttoned and shirked off somewhere behind him. Your drenched core was pressed right against his throbbing length, rock hard and leaking with pearly beads of precum.

“I love you, more than anything, more than life itself,” he murmured against your throat, gently nipping at the skin there. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Aemond,” you moaned wantonly when one of his hands snaked down to thumb at your clit. “Please, I’m yours, please fuck me.”

With a satisfied hum, Aemond planted a deep kiss onto your parted lips, a groan rumbling from his chest when you bit into his bottom lip, eyes hooded. He lined his cock up, before sinking into you with one smooth motion, his forehead falling into the crook of your neck.

You held onto him for dear life when he began to rock into you, scratching faint crimson lines down his toned back. The pain seemed to only spur him on, and he shifted his angle to pound into you deeper, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the pleasure.

“Fuck!” he bit out. “So good, ābrazȳrys. Feels so good around me.”

He moaned when you clenched around him, his breath hitching when you slid your hands up into his hair and yanked with no abandon. In no time, he could feel you coming undone around him with a litany of colorful curses, shaking almost violently in his hold. In turn, Aemond came inside you with a shout of your name, rocking into you once, twice, thrice more.

Slow, he pulled out of you, watching the cum drip out of your spent cunt with great satisfaction. He kissed you sweetly, nose nudging against your cheek.

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” he softly said, carrying you across the room to set you down on the bed. “Go to sleep, love.”

“Mm, I love you,” you murmured. A ghost of a warm smile etched into the corner of his lips. He repeated the sentiment to you, but you had already drifted off to sleep before you could hear it.

King Viserys was dead. Rhaenyra and her children were gone, having flown back to Dragonstone earlier in the day.

And already, Aegon was to be crowned King.

You were none too happy about the turn of events, but you were to turn the cheek and play the part of the faithful wife, for the sake of your family and their safety. The lords who had refused to bend the knee to Aegon were either thrown in the dungeons or hanged, labeled as treasonous traitors to the realm. It was just like Kyrion had drawn, as he claimed to have seen in his dreams.

“A beast beneath the boards,” Helaena had constantly murmured, which frightened you to no end.

It was only worsened when Kyrion would reply with, “Bursting red, red in the sky, the sun in her mouth.”

Syraena was rupturing at the seams with a constant stream of questions—questions you had no such answers to. And your youngest daughter was crying the entire day, sensing the tense, fragile atmosphere. Your husband had gone to find Aegon in the slums of King’s Landing, who had unsurprisingly disappeared in thin air.

Not before long, he was dragged back into the Keep, and the coronation commenced above the Dragon Pit. The beast beneath the boards broke out only minutes after the crown was placed on his head. Hundreds of commoners and smallfolk were killed in the commotion. Princess Rhaenys rode her scarlet dragon, the Queen That Never Was mounted on the Red Queen of Dragons.

Aemond had shoved you back, protectively standing in front of you, though there was very little he could do. The both of you were immensely grateful the children were left in the castle with Lailena, safe from the chaos and the havoc. If you were to die today, you’d be dying in Aemond’s arms, knowing your children were safe for the time being—what better way was there to die?

But neither of you died that day, for Meleys had only screeched out a shrill warning, before clambering out of the Pit, and absconding to the clouds. Red in the sky.

Aemond had ushered you to the Keep, before hugging you tight in the secluded privacy of your chambers, genuinely terrified that he could’ve lost you.

The next day, he was already leaving again. He was to go to Storm’s End to broker a deal with Borros Baratheon: a marriage proposal between his brother Daeron and one of the Lord’s daughters. It seemed that betrothals truly were the realm’s political currency now.

“I want to come with you, Kepa,” Syraena said, staring up at her father with narrowed e/c eyes. “Let me come with you!”

Expression softening, Aemond ruffled her already-mussed hair. “It’ll be a quick trip. You can come to the next one, Syraena.”

The next goodbye was for his son, who hugged his father loosely. “An eye for a pearl,” he mumbled, too quiet for Aemond to hear.

Clutched to his leg, sobbing hysterically, was Myra, her cheeks damp and her dark, plum-hued eyes red-rimmed. “Oh, river, don’t cry for me. I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.”

Finally, he turned to you, his hand on the back of your head as he kissed you, chaste yet passionate, and rested his forehead on yours. “Stay safe in here, my dear sea.”

“Storm’s End is wet and cold and… obviously stormy. Keep yourself warm. Don’t get struck by lightning, is all I ask, husband.”

“As you wish, love,” he whispered, before ducking his head to kiss your cheek. With a laugh, he pried his sweet girl away from his leg, lifting her up to chastely peck her forehead, and then handed her bawling form over to you. She was always this way when Aemond had to leave for longer than a day.

The four of you watched Aemond head out of the Keep. Unease roiled within your stomach with his absence.

“Three days for the pearl to wash ashore,” said Kyrion. There was a pallid tone to his skin, and he glanced at you with his large, pale eyes. “Mother, I’m scared.”

“Come,” you quickly said, ushering the children to their chambers. “Let’s go play with Auntie Helaena and Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, yes?”

It was late the next night when Aemond returned. The moon glowed in a sliver of its regular size, the crescent unnaturally bright in the dark sky, void of any stars. You were standing out on the balcony, sleeping shift rustling with the warm wind when the doors behind you creaked open.

Rainwater dripped from his cloak as he stepped in.

Drip, drip, drip.

His single eye was wide and haunted, expression so far that it seemed like Aemond wasn’t even in the same room as you.

“Aemond?” you called out, stepping back into the chambers and crossing the room in quick strides to greet him. “Gods, you're sopping wet. Are you alright?”

It was as if he didn’t hear you, staring at the ground with parted lips. There was an unfamiliar, raw sort of terror blanketed over his features, you could see it clear as ever. Your brows indented together, and you reached out to softly graze your fingers along his damp face.

At the gentle touch, Aemond snapped his gaze to you. His hands were shaking.

Finding yourself at a loss for words, you roped him into an embrace, clutching his drenched form tightly against yours, uncaring that you were getting soaked in the process. This seemed to break him out of his reverie, as he began to tremble violently, and his chest thundered with silent sobs. His nose went directly to your neck and you hushed him with your free hand stroking the back of his head.

“Aemond, my love, what happened?” you asked again.

This time, he tried his best to answer you. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it.”

“Didn’t mean what, darling?”

“Vhagar didn’t listen to me. I tried to stop her,” he croaked, pulling his ashen face away from the junction of your neck, searching your comforting face frantically. “I… I killed him. I killed Lucerys.”

Your lips parted in shock. There was little you could find to say—for what could you tell your husband, now a kinslayer? No amount of comforting words could fix a situation such as this.

When Rhaenyra would inevitably find out about her son, war would rain down upon you and your family.

With a thick throat, you tightly hugged Aemond again, tears gracing the corners of your own eyes.

The days passed in a blur. Aemond was quieter than ever before, regret painted over his sharp features each and every time you glanced at him. Once he told his mother, she had nearly gone down the same manic spiral, but steeled herself to deal with the Green council.

When Aegon heard of his nephew’s death, he threw a large, grand feast, inviting all the Lords and Ladies at court.

Neither you nor Aemond attended.

The fourth night after Aemond had returned from Storm’s End, you were in Kyrion’s chambers, brushing away his ivory curls with tender hands as he settled beneath his fleece blanket to go to sleep. Aemond was putting the girls to bed by reading them a story, as the both of them were more restless than usual as of late.

“Kyr, baby, I have a question for you,” you said, voice soft and hesitant. Should you really be asking your son this? When Kyrion tilted his head in a silent motion for you to continue, you cleared your throat. “In your dreams… Did you see what happened to your cousin, Lucerys?”

Your son nodded once, biting at the inside of his cheek, a habit that he seemed to share with you.

Before you could ask him what he saw, there was a sudden, dull thud heard outside, followed by the familiar screech of steel. Fear wound its cold, dark hands around your pulsating heart.

The door flung open so quickly that the hinges whined in protest. Your eyes fell upon the two guards in front of Kyrion’s chambers, sprawled over the cobblestone floor, dark ichor leaking out of slit throats. Two looming figures stood in the doorway. One large and burly, the other short and thin as a twig.

You had no time to react, for a second later, the small one had darted forward, seizing you with surprising strength, brandishing coarse rope from thin air and binding your limbs together with tight knots, doing so with just one hand as his other was tightly sealing your mouth so you wouldn’t be able to scream for your husband, for more guards, for anyone. The other large man slammed the doors shut and barred them with one of his many swords he was carrying. The one holding you roughly gagged you with a cloth as soon as he pried his hand off, tying the ends around the back of your head. You gagged when your tongue registered the taste of coppery, day-old blood and sweat.

Despite the hindrance, you screamed your throat raw through the cloth anyway, kicking furiously and struggling in desperation against the small man, who was adamant on keeping you rooted to one spot. Your yells came out muffled and guttural, but not nearly loud enough to alert anybody outside, seeing as the closest people to the chambers were now dead.

Your son whimpered out for you, but he remained quiet after that, his pale mauve eyes wide as he fixed his gaze upon the large, brutish man who slowly approached him.

“Don’t be scared, little fish,” the mousy man sneered gripping your cheeks so you’d be forced to watch your little boy cower further beneath his covers. “We’re simply debt collectors, you see. An eye for an eye, a son for a son. We just want ‘im. Won’t hurt one hair on your pretty lil’ head, ey?”

“NO!” you sobbed, struggling thrice-fold against him, to no avail. “Take me! Please, not my son!” you screamed, though it sounded like nothing but incoherent wailing through the dirty cloth.

You could do nothing but watch in horror as the large man tightened his grip on his longsword. The other hand reached out for your son, dragging him out of bed by the scruff of his sleep shirt so he dangled nearly a meter away from the ground.

“Don’t look, mother. I don’t want you to see it,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear through the thundering of your pulse in your ears, making your knees buckle. “I saw it in my dreams.”

With one strike, the man lopped Kyrion’s head clean off.

Your heart seemed to stop for a moment. You screamed through the cloth, sobbing as you painfully crumpled to the ground, the gangly man finally releasing you. The blood… your son’s blood… his bed was covered with it. The walls behind him, the floor, the books on his desk…

Red, everywhere…

The two monsters had taken Kyrion’s head, the large man’s crimson-flecked fist gripping your son’s pearly-white curls, both fleeing the chambers in a blink of an eye.

You sobbed against the ground, inching your way to your son with your bonds digging into you. You didn’t care. It was nothing compared to the pain within your chest.

“Kyrion,” you wailed through the cloth, using your shoulder to roughly shove it down your lips, letting it fall around your neck, tearing the corner of your mouth in the process.

The entire Red Keep seemed to awaken with your grief-stricken scream. You kneeled your head against your little boy’s decapitated body, sobs wracking through your entire form.

That was what Aemond had rushed into, hearing the echoes of your cries from far away. He’d locked the girls’ rooms before coming, fearing the worst.

Upon seeing you on the ground, hovering over his murdered son, Aemond collapsed to his knees beside you, gathering his broken, shaking wife in his arms as he tugged you away. With trembling fingers, he undid the ropes around you, allowing you to throw your arms around him freely.

“Look away, jorrāelagon,” he said, voice uneven as he began to cry with you. “Look away.”

His words made you sob even harder… your son had told you to do just the same.

When Criston Cole came rushing in with Alicent Hightower, Aemond had immediately got to his feet, murderous revenge painted across his features. He helped you up, still crying hysterically.

“Mother, escort Y/N to our daughters’ chambers. Get a dozen guards to man the door. I’ll find our son’s murderer, and I’ll kill him myself.” He began striding away, Criston hot on his heels.

You called out for him, voice hoarse with overuse.

Pausing in his steps, Aemond turned his head ever so slightly, but didn’t meet your gaze. He blamed himself, of course he did. He was ashamed, because it was his fault his son was dead. It was his fault he couldn’t protect him—that he couldn’t protect you.

It seemed that Aemond was far too blinded by his rage to learn from his mistakes.

“I need you here, please! Please, Aemond, please don’t go,” you sobbed, leaning your weight against Alicent, who had taken to cradling you against her chest.

A muscle in your husband’s jaw jumped. A tear slipped down from his only eye, and he continued to walk away, determined to bring justice to his son. It felt as if a searing hot knife had pierced through his chest and twisted when he heard your despaired cries ricocheting off the stone halls of the Keep.

Revenge, was all he could think of, cold anger dancing along the dark shadows of his face. If it is a war they want, it is a war they shall have.

a/n ; hey !! thank you for reading this fic until the end <3 means so much to me! i made some picrews of what i visualize the kids to look like so here you go !! they're all aged up, ofc.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fluff #aemond targaryen fic #aegon targaryen x reader

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harunayuuka2060 · 6 months

Text

Malleus: *volunteered to accompany MC back to the Ramshackle dorm*

MC: Uh... Hornton? You don't have to hold my hand...

Malleus: You didn't have to sleep in Kingscholar's room either.

MC: ...

MC: You're really not going to let me get away with it, huh...

Malleus: I'm your future husband and yet... Wouldn't you agree that can be compared to cheating? *turns to smile at them*

MC: Well, it doesn't sit right with me to bring the kids to Diasomnia.

Malleus: I can babysit the young Kingscholar and the young Rosehearts if that's what you're worried about.

MC: That's-

"Couples like this sucks."

"You're definitely right about that, Idia."

MC and Malleus: Huh?

Idia's child self and Vil's child self: *waiting for their arrival*

Vil's child self: *frowning at the sight of them* You should apologize for making us wait.

Idia's child self: Your house is really boring. I want to get out of here.

MC: ...

Vil and Idia: ...

Idia: *to his child self* What were you thinking tagging yourself along?

Idia's child self: I was dragged.

Idia: Great.

Vil: How about you? Didn't you have modelling projects around this month?

Vil's child self: Yes. But they were probably cancelled now because I went missing.

Vil: !!!

Vil: Potato...

MC: I can explain- No, nevermind. I don't know the explanation to this.

Idia's child self: Let me. It's your father-figure a.k.a Fairy Godfather.

Idia, Vil, MC, and Malleus: ...Fairy Godfather?

Vil's child self: Yes. The one who grants wishes and messes up with the timeline.

Idia's child self: He wants us to bond us with you or something. And then we can leave.

Vil's child self: You can pay for my talent fee later.

MC: ...

MC: I feel like this is going to be stressful.

Vil: If you can't handle my younger self, I can take care of him instead.

Vil's child self: *looking at Vil* You look gorgeous.

Vil: Why, thank you.

Vil's child self: Have we beaten Neige yet?

Vil: ...

MC: Vil?

Vil: I've changed my mind. You take care of him.

Malleus: How about you, Shroud?

Idia: Yeah. Maybe I can.

Idia's child self: How's Ortho? Is he studying here too?

Idia: Um...

Malleus: Yes. I believe he's with the other first-year students.

Idia's child self: Really? I want to see him.

Idia: You can't!

Idia's child self: ???

Vil's child self: Give me a separate room. And I want it to be elegant and fashionable.

Idia's child self: Same. I don't like sharing room with someone.

Leona's child self and Riddle's child self: *being carried by MC*

Leona's child self: Wow. They're really bossing you around.

Riddle's child self: I feel annoyed for some reason.

MC: I'm kinda expecting this, so I'm not surprised.

Ace: We really need to investigate who's this fairy godfather they're talking about.

Epel: Yeah. I'm feeling bad for MC having to deal with our housewardens' younger selves every single time one of them pops out of nowhere.

Deuce: But... I think all of them have appeared now.

Ace and Epel: ...

Epel: Yeah!

Ace: Even so, we need to find out who the fairy godfather is.

Deuce: Why?

Ace: Because!

Ace: What if our younger selves show us this time! Wouldn't that be embarrassing?!

Deuce: ...

Deuce: Y-You're right!

Epel: Huh? I don't get it.

Epel: Why would you be embarrassed?

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst malleus #twst vil #twst idia #twst vil's child self #twst idia's child self #twst leona's child self #twst riddle's child self #twst ace #twst deuce #twst epel

729 notes · View notes

futterurl · 7 months

Text

Owe It To You

Josh Futturman x fem!reader

WARNINGS: smut (mdni!), oral(f!recieving), fingering, clit play, female anatomy on reader

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you were tired, to say the least.

going back in time, checking on the future to the same, demented outcome, really took a toll on you guys. it always seemed as if every effort and alternative path taken for the future didn’t matter.

you were lost in thought as tiger and wolf fought with each other, it was the same empty argument: wolf didn’t listen, tiger wanted control. it was draining to hear.

you all were in Joosh’s super house, taking a peek at how fucked up you all made this future. you left the living room in frustration, heading up to Joosh’s room.

you crashed onto the bed, covering your face with a pillow, letting out a low groan. you were tired of all the fighting, all the time travel, everything. you needed a break.

you heard a knock on the door, followed by a calming voice asking, “hey, you okay?”

you lifted the pillow from your face, seeing josh, peaking the door open, worry etched on his eyebrows. he knew how much of a toll this was starting to take on you, you guys were best friends, after all.

“yeah, just…tired, is all.” you half mumbled into the pillow, just loud enough so he could barely hear.

he leaned off the door and sat on the bed that you lay on. he scratched your head.

“something’s telling me there’s more to it than that.” he inquired.

“i don’t know…i guess i’m just tired of all this shit.” you began. “we try so hard to perfect the future, but are met with the same outcome. i’ve been trying to think left and right of new ideas…nothing’s working.”

he understood that this was only the tip of the iceberg, regarding your feelings for all this. when you got roped up into this mess, you left more behind than him. you left behind an internship you had busted your ass off for, and two other jobs, which you probably got fired from, due to your absence.

you had two different jobs just to meet ends meet, in your shitty apartment. sure, they were crappy, dead-end jobs, but they helped you get ends meet. you were somehow able to balance those along with your internship which you fought so hard to get.

all down the drain.

in a way, it was relieving, not having to juggle all of this, living every day as a drained, sleep deprived zombie.

unfortunately, this scenario was just like everything else in your life: there was no way out.

“i know, i know…i really am sorry you got dragged into this. it’s all my fault.” josh sighed.

it had just been a fun night of you guys playing video games, finally beating this one you guys had been playing for…forever. once you guys were just hanging out and talking about it, in a flash of light, wolf and tiger had appeared, needing the people who beat the game’s help. immediately. you both were there, so they needed the both of you.

“it’s not your fault, josh…we did it together, we gotta get through this together.” it really wasn’t his fault. you didn’t want him to think that.

“no, it is. i’m constantly getting you roped into all the shit that happens in my life, and you’ve been working your ass off to fix this timeline. you deserve better.” josh stroked your hair.

you sat up. “it’s okay, josh. there’s nobody i’d rather fix the timeline with.”

“still, it’s not fair. all of this isn’t fair. let me…let me make it up to you.” he seemed a bit nervous and started hesitating on his words.

you started to feel a little hot. “how would you go about ‘making it up to me’, josh?”

you did not expect what he did next.

josh was this awkward gamer nerd who had never felt the touch of a woman before. he’d always been so out of place and nervous talking to anyone, which made it so weird to hear what he said next.

“let…let me make you feel good.” his hand laying on the bed crept closer to your thigh, covered by your pants.

you started to get a little nervous yet excited. you had never seen him be this bold before.

“you’ve been so stressed by everything in life, and i mean everything. a-and you never have anyone help you out with anything. i want to help you…feel good, like stress relief.” his pinkie played with the fabric of your pants.

you couldn’t believe this was real right now. josh, the one you had known for years, barely having the balls to talk to girls besides you, doing this. your mine was racing.

he noticed how quiet you were being. “o-of course you don’t have to let me do it if you don’t want to! it was just an idea, it was stupid, i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythi-”

he was cut off by you kissing him, hand holding his jawline. he melted into the kiss.

as you pulled away, you smiled. “i…i think i do want this. please, josh. make me feel good.”

“okay…okay..” he started to trail off with his words as his thumb ran back and forth on your cheek. “before i do this, i just wanna let you know that if you’re uncomfortable, please tell me, and we’ll be done. won’t have to speak of it ever again. promise.”

he was very sweet. sure, he was awkward, but he put your comfort and pleasure first. it made you feel happy and safe.

he went back to softly kissing you as his hand went slightly under your shirt and rubbed your waist, just above your pants. soft, delicate touches.

as he unbuttoned your pants, he tapped your hips twice, signaling for you to lift them up. as you did, he tugged your pants down at an agonizingly slow pace. he was such a fucking tease.

his eyes became infatuated with your lace underwear you were wearing. the way it clung to your hips was driving him mad. he hoped you couldn’t tell how crazy you were making him. he toyed with the fabric as you smiled.

“as much as i love these,” he snapped them on your hips. “i’m gonna have to take them off. is that okay with you?”

you felt so safe, knowing how tender he was being. he didn’t want to fuck this up. you lifted your hips. “that’s more than okay with me, josh.” you played with a handful of his hair.

he dragged your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening cunt to him. he audibly gasped, he couldn’t believe he was doing this to you. sure, he always thought you were sweet, and even fantasized about doing things like this to you, but he didn’t think it’d ever happen.

he was lost in thought, staring at your cunt. you started to get insecure, closing your legs. “josh, stop staring.” you pleaded.

he shook his head. “sorry, you’re just…so beautiful. i can’t believe it.” he thumbed little circles on your inner thigh.

“can i…feel you? down there, i mean?” he asked. god, he was so awkward it was funny.

you nodded your head. “yeah. please.”

his fingers started inching closer and closer to where you needed them most. suddenly, he ran one through your slit, barely touching your clit. you shuddered. that felt good.

“fuck…you’re so wet. you’re so hot.” he ran his finger slowly around your clit, seeing if he’d get any reactions from you. you silently gasped.

“that..that felt really good. please keep doing that.” you felt so good right now. no guy had ever focused on making you feel good before. this was new. you liked it.

“god, please moan for me. love the little noises y’make.” josh was rubbing your clit a bit faster, making you let out a quiet moan.

“f..fuck. feels good. really good.” feeling that little area constantly stimulated was the ticket. you hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

“can i…can i put a finger in?” he asked, slowing down his aggression on your clit.

you furiously nodded your head, your pussy clamping down on nothing. wanting to be filled. by him.

“please, please josh.” you said, getting lost in the pleasure. you let out a grunt as he slowly inserted a finger inside you.

“fuck, it’s only one finger but you’re so tight, fuck.” he started to ramble as he moved his finger in your wetness. you squirmed a bit. it felt so good, his thick finger getting lost in you.

“m’ gonna put another one im, ‘kay?” he asked, prodding another finger to your tight hole. you nodded, to which he slowly put it in. you groaned at the tight stretch.

“you good?” he asked. he wanted this to be good for you. the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“yeah, was just..new, was all. please keep going. feels good.” you went on.

he did just that. he curled his fingers inside you, pumping them at a quick pace. that, with stimulation he was putting from his thumb to your clit, was making you moan left and right. you felt something stirring inside you.

“god, you’re so cute like this…should’ve done this sooner.” he gushed, turning you on even more.

“fuck, m’close.” you panted.

as soon as the feeling met you, it left as he pulled his fingers out of you.

you looked up at him, confused. “why’d you do that?” you asked.

he started to sink down. “as much as i was getting into that, i wanna see you cum on my tongue.” he kissed your thighs.

you felt the wetness pool inside you even more once he said that. god, you couldn’t get that image out of your head now.

“please, fuck, josh. make me cum on your tongue.” you pleaded as he slowly trailed to your inner thighs, giving them a lot of attention. you had taken him for the thigh guy, but not to this extent.

“since you asked so nicely…” he lowered his head, taking a long lick to your cunt, you releasing a pornographic moan.

“fuck…feels s’good josh…oh my god.” you had never felt this type of pleasure anywhere, and here he was, giving it to you like his life depended on it.

he gave a light kiss to your clit before lightly tracing his tongue over it, testing the waters. once he heard you becoming a moaning mess, he licked it with more vigor, wanting to pull these moans out of you.

the stimulation felt like no other, him focusing on making out with your clit and entrance. he pulled your thighs closer to his face as he licked at more of your slick.

you pulled at his hair, letting out breathy moans. he groaned at this. hard. right into your cunt, which felt so fucking good. you could feel your back arch off the bed as he lapped into your juices, him tonguing your clit. your nails scratched at his scalp as that familiar pit in your stomach came back.

“josh…so close…holy shit.” you moaned as his tongue swirled around you.

“please, come on my face. please.” he pleaded. the vibrations his voice sent to your core sending you even closer. “wanna make you feel better than you ever have. come on my tongue.”

one final stroke of his tongue lead you to your peak, your thighs tightening around his face. you let out incoherent babbles as you came on him. he continued to lick you as you rode out your high.

once you calmed down, you looked down at him, catching your breath. he had slick all over his face and wore a dopey smile. “are you okay?” he asked.

“never better.” you replied. “that felt so fucking good josh. thank you. so much.” you caressed his cheek.

“i hope it’s not too weird to tell you i enjoyed that.” he had a slight tint of red on his cheeks.

“oh! not at all. it was amazing. i can’t thank you enough.” you smiled, laying onto the pillow.

“no, i can’t thank you enough. you always stay by my side and always fix my messes. this is the least that i could do.” he said as he handed you a glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand, which you took.

“i’ll always be here for you, if you ever wanna do shit like this again, or even something soothing like a massage.” he added.

you put the glass of water down, hugging him. “you’re so sweet, josh. i appreciate it so much. you’re such a good person, i really hope you know that.”

“anything else you need?” he asked.

“take a nap with me for awhile?” you asked. you had gotten very sleepy.

“of course.” he get under the covers, cuddling you and stroking your hair. “i’ll do anything for you, i hope you know that.”

you nuzzled into his chest, getting comfortable. “you too, joshy.” you mumbled as you started to fall into a deep sleep.

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a/n: hi guys first(ish) post. hope u enjoyed :p pls send requests as well! i’m so bad at ideas

#josh futturman smut #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #future man #future man smut

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