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httpsserene · 6 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!

do you want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made.

he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.

when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric.

“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax.

you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”

frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion.

he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”

“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”

lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.

“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”

lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”

you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”

lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.

lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.”

lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.

in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.

“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“

you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband.

there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling.

lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm.

lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr@nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane

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sh1-n0bu · 7 months

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I’d like to order some nsfw genshin impact SAGAU stuff:

More specifically, its when the Creator uses a vessel different from Wanderer, their main, and he gets jealous all the time.

So, when they descend on teyvat, one of the first things they do is fuck the jealousy out of him so badly he cant speak. (Yes its overstimulation because MAN…)

♡︎ 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙙 ♡︎

characters: sub!AFAB!wanderer (or scaramouche) x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, dacryphillia, jealousy, oral fixation, squirting, fingering, slight cult-ish and religious undertones

notes: hhhh my first sagau smut

kabukimono adored the creator.

how could he not? he was just a mere creation and a vessel of the god of all gods.

the first to tell the poor, discarded puppet of you was niwa. when seeing how everyone in tatarasuna worshipped a being called divine creator, the poor puppet couldn’t help his own curiosity and ask. in response, niwa patiently explained to him how there was once an ancient being. a god of all gods. one who even reigned over the archons, celestia itself. one who created teyvat, blessed it with life and in their weakened state, went to an eternal rest.

kabukimono adored the creator with the hollow remains of where his heart is meant to be. an empty shell filling with fuzzy feelings, smile spreading on his face whenever he goes to pray at your shrine, offerings of small yet precious things left in your altar. he only hoped it would please your soul.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

you took away his friend, his home, his family and yet he still hopes for your guidance. carrying hope in the shape of a small wooden carving that he made, which he clutches closely to his chest.

during restless nights and moments when he feels himself slipping, losing hope, losing sight of loving you — he clutches the wooden carving to his chest. tight, tight to the point it leaves a dent in his pale hand and whispers into it. how he wishes to be in your care. how he hopes that you didn’t abandon him. how he hopes that your loving arms would hold him one day. how you are the only source of life he has.

how all the blood he shed was meant for you. a sacrifice for you. to appease you. to bring you back to teyvat. to see you in flesh.

kunikuzushi has secret reverence and respect for the creator.

scaramouche despises the creator.

you left him. when his own mother betrayed him and left him alone, he was lucky to be found by nagamasa. he was lucky that niwa was kind enough to let him stay at tatarasuna. how you were so cruel that even after all the metal and iron, gold and silver he molded and modeled to make tiny offerings to your altar. how you were twisted to give him small slivers of hopes in the form of niwa and the sick child, yet to take them away.

he hates you. despises you. loathes you. every little altar he sees, he hopes to destroy it. every statue of you he glimpses at, he uses his delusion to shock the old and eroded stone until it breaks and crumbles. oh, how badly he wished to do the same to you.

the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers won’t even hesitate for a split second to spit on your name even in the presence of the tsaritsa. childe always looks down on him whenever he does. the ginger’s hands twitching, delusion and vision mixing up together as he tries his best to hold himself back from jumping on the short arrogant puppet.

and yet despite it all… scaramouche still clutches the small wooden carving of you. holding it close to his chest as he secretly whispers in his mind how much he wishes to please you. the puppet only hopes all the bodies he piled up would satisfy you, even just a little bit.

wanderer loves you dearly.

he has been wrong this whole time. you were never twisted, never sick in the head nor heart, never wishing to manipulate him, never wishing harm or pain upon anything. you were gentle. loving. every life form you passed by would swoon and sway, hoping to touch you. even touching your clothes or robes would be enough.

when be first got his vision, he heard your voice in his head. it was the same loving warmth that enveloped the traveler. it was warm, gentle, loving but still not fully there. when he protected the traveler and the floating thing, he could hear you cheer for him. for him.

but when an array of shooting stars engulfed the fake skies, wanderer looks up as always. blue ones, purple ones and then he felt it. a certain pull in his chest. like how red strings of fate tugs on your pinky in all those fairytales.

and he follows.

running, running, running — until he eventually reaches an odd place. a clear sky, one that looked real and one that cradled him in a gentle warmth.

“yeeesss!! you’re finally home! welcome home, wanderer!” a voice rings in his head loud and clear. excitement, happiness, elation, joy, pride — all sorts of emotions bubble in him, ready to burst out. but instead it fell down in the form of a tear. a happy tear.

it was you. it was the creator. the all-knowing, all-loving one. and you wanted him! him of all people! and you were happy that you had him!

yet wanderer doesn’t get it.

if you loved him so much, wanted him, pre-farmed for him as you said and even got his signature weapon, why were you using someone else? why use that cocky cryo user from mondstadt? why use his brother who is equally cocky but knows how to keep it hidden? why use that annoying old archon who flaunts that he is your oldest and most devout follower? or even the yashirou commissioner!

was he not enough? was he not strong enough? did you needed to “farm” for his talent materials? if so, no need! he already went ahead and got them for you when you logged out! everything to make him the perfect dps as you called is all there and ready!

strange.

why was your other characters are all either dead or on 1hp when you log in? only wanderer is there — your main — in full hp. standing proud and cocky with the same grin.

——

it’s tough to be a god.

no seriously. all jokes and that damn catchy song aside, it was indeed tough to be a god. especially when all these powerful people who can literally control elements and even gods themselves were worshipping you. how can you be a god of all gods?

well, you found out the answer to that question on one of your earlier days when you got a little bit too curious. all in the form of an ichor bleeding out of your palm that you sliced. and perhaps a bit pressured too. after all, being put on a pedestal for everyone to see and worship and grovel to is hard to deal with. especially when you were suddenly thrown into a world that you thought was only fictional!

but there was also something else that was incredibly, unbelievably, astoundingly hard to deal with was your main. the puppet who was abandoned. the short, sarcastic asshole. but never towards you! he would hate to make you even slightest bit sad or angry.

and yet he does it anyways.

going out of his way to stalk down some poor merchant you like buying things from to buy most of their stock so you won’t visit the merchant’s shop again. picking fights with your acolytes when you show the slightest hint of favoritism. hell, he almost killed childe. but of course, the battle lusted ginger loved the thrill and had asked for more future fights.

which all led to here. him getting his well deserved punishment.

poor wanderer thinking he was all too slick. how he was doing everything behind your back so you wouldn’t know anything. how you would stay innocent to his actions while he goes and picks another fight. but you noticed. every single jealousy inflicted actions wanderer had pulled and orchestrated, you knew.

anyone could walk in right now and see what was happening. anyone of your pathetic other acolytes could walk in and see how good you were fucking him. fingers knuckles deep into his cunt, fucking him so good, so deep.

and dear stars and you, wanderer wanted that. he wanted those pathetic worshippers to see how you favored him above them.

wanderer had lost his sense of self and mind long time ago. the moment you wrapped your hand around his throat to manhandle his tiny body to sit on your lap, his mind was gone. a blank sheet of paper.

the puppet doesn’t remember how many orgasms you’ve wrung out of him but he loved it. he wanted it. he wanted more. he wanted your fingers to fuck him open.

in his hazy mind, lust ridden babbles and overstimulated body, he can feel it. how your other hand is keeping his labia spread open. how you apply pressure around his cunt. how your fingers are squelching into him, creating a filthy wet shlick! shlick! noises.

how your hand keeping his labia open goes to tug on his clit. pinching the bud of muscle as he writhes and screams in your lap. squirting over your fingers again like a common brothel whore. and he loved it. by the stars above, he loved it.

because deep in his most depraved part of mind, wanderer knew that he was a whore. your whore. your common brothel cheap whore. your whore who would spread open his legs for you if you asked for it. who would eagerly finger himself so he can provide you with some sort of entertainment. who would take your hand and guide it inside his shorts, not even bothering to wear undergarments, so he can give you easier access.

he doesn’t remember. doesn’t want to remember how many times he came. when you place him on your own throne, legs propped on both sides on the armrest, his wet, slick covered pussy and hardened sensitive clit for the world to see, all he can think about is how good it feels.

when you get down on your knees in front of him, it feels like a sacrilege. shouldn’t it be him who’s on his knees in front of you, trying and hoping to please you?

yet all of his thoughts fly out the window when your fingers stretch his sensitive pussy open again. fingers hooked on the inside slightly, just enough to open up his inner labia and for you to admire his gaping hole. waiting eagerly for you to claim it once again.

“your gra—aanhg!! grace! grace! your grace!! f-feelsh good. feelsh good feelsh goodfeelsgoodgoodgood ghk—! aammh!♥︎“ the jealous puppet whines and babbles on, your title falling over his lips over and over like a mantra as he drools. mind long gone, sanity on the thin line between delirium and lucidity. struggling to comprehend just what is happening.

he feels your mouth on him. tongue lapping at his juice greedily like an insatiable animal while he struggles to keep his legs open. hand twitching, hesitating for a moment before he grips onto your hair tightly — his only anchor. he can feel everything too greatly.

body sensitive, pushed over the boundaries of his virgin state. he could feel how you suck on his sensitive clit, forcing him to squirt into your mouth.

if this was how you would treat him to stop his jealousy induced rampages, maybe wanderer should do it more often.

#nobu.writes #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub!genshin #sub!genshin impact #sub scaramouche #sub!scaramouche #sub wanderer #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #gender neutral reader

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llondonfog · 7 months

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Wailing about “you love me so you’ll love my child” but w melleanor and silver

"—and do not let Vanrouge within twenty meters of the kitchens, is that clear, Counselor? Inform the kitchen staff that they have my exact permission to maim him on sight with the nearest sharp object. Oh, do not duck your face like a quivering kitten as if I cannot see that grimace, Counselor— that man has survived much worse and scraped through with life and limb and still persists to terrorize us all with his presence, isn't that right, my dear one?"

From within her arms, Lilia's child coos and babbles something far more intelligent than her trailing, fretful advisors back at her, and she taps a dark painted talon delicately against its plush cheek in fond agreement.

Lilia's child.

Meleanor rolls the words silently within her mouth, holds them there to taste the strange, but pleasant, flavor of their meaning.

Of all the fae in all their lands, who would have ever dared to dream that Lilia Vanrouge would take to a child like a fish to water, or a fledgling to the skies?

She can still hear him now, grumbling and griping so about the burden of children, their helplessness and neediness as unnecessarily weak creatures. In a rare form of mercy, not once did she pry— for how could she, when she knew the answer even if it was not in specifics? When fae were perishing at the hands of humankind's avaricious cruelty, how could she dare chastise him when she was so certain that Lilia's bitterness only existed towards himself?

Her hypothesis had been proven correct when her most trusted General had been present for Malleus' hatching, a softness that she had only seen once before smoothing the harsh lines of his battle-weary gaze. Perhaps she had the right of bias; it was only correct that anyone melt at the sight of her darling son, chirping and mewling miniature fonts of emerald flame.

But that softness had reappeared tenfold when Lilia had knelt before her in the privacy of her chambers where no other fae save for two were ever allowed, revealing the swaddled contents of his cloak with a desperate, fervent need for approval.

He woke for me, she remembers her oldest friend confessing in a voice choked with awe and an emotion that had nearly frightened her (her!) with its intensity. Meleanor, do you understand what this means? He is the son of our enemy, lost and forgotten by time, and he woke for me.

Oh, she had understood as perfectly then as she does now. It was for that reason alone that she had stayed her hand from where it had been readied to smite the child from Lilia's arms, to strip it from existence out of fear that it had somehow bewitched the one fae with more reason to detest humanity than all the rest.

True love was so rare in this world; it had taken her centuries to find her heart's desire. How could she wrest that from Lilia, as he kneels before her and bares his soul, staring down at the sleeping infant cradled in his arms with a delicate strength she did not know him to possess and the dazed look of a parent struck with the dazzling knowledge that the child they hold is more perfect than any creature alive on the earth?

She could not— the proof of which rests in her arms and happily teethes on strands of her gleaming hair, warm and soft and heavy in the sweet way of babes.

"And that is why we cannot allow your pathetic wretch of a father to ruin the celebration of your first blessing, isn't that right— Silver?"

#lettie's asks #twst spoilers #anon the way this thought gripped me......#i didn't mean for it to be a drabble #but here we are :')#lettie writes #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #meleanor draconia #twst meleanor #twst chapter 7

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moonlit-midnight · 7 months

Text

TWST Imagines: He sings of love when he laughs

Characters: Second years and Third years.

Summary: The sound of his laughter is the melody of your heart.

Warnings: GN!Reader, based on a dream I had about the 2nd and 3rd years, written for the sake of entertainment.

He laughs easily, brightly, gleefully, like a burst of fluttering flower petals on a beautiful spring day. He catches for big breaths when he laughs too hard. His laughter continues when the joke you told him is already over, and he will still be laughing when he leaves the room.

When you laugh along with him, you breathe with ease and everything feels better.

Cater, Ruggie, Floyd, Rook, Lilia

He laughs sweetly, a sound so serene and soothing like the gentle sunlight in the morning. His eyes turn into the prettiest pair of crescent moons when he gets carried away as though the wonders of your funny stories fascinate his mind and soul.

The sound of his laughter is a blessing from the heavens. Hearing it light up the cities in your heart.

Riddle, Trey, Jade, Kalim, Vil, Silver

He doesn’t laugh freely, but when you’re close by, he lets you revel in the entrancing sound of his booming, deep laughter. He has the kind of glorious laugh that puts you in a dreamy state, and you miss it dearly the moment it fades into the distance.

His laugh is the song you love best in the world. It’s like a melody that’s been missing all your life.

Leona, Azul, Jamil, Idia, Malleus

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ornii · 3 months

Note

Do you still do requests?

Can you please do Wednesday Addams X reader who has abilities, powers, and a backstory similar to John Constantine? Thank you.

Black Rum

A little short and sweet.

Nevermore really didn’t change much after the attack, and overall some things never truly did change. But what did was the relationship between (Y/n) and Wednesday, she was cold and standoffish towards him in the beginning. Slowly he melted her icy demeanor and made himself home in her heart. Whether she wanted to admit it or not; she loved him. While continuing their studies, the two participate in… extracurricular activities together.

(Y/n) stood in an old Church, dark magic swirling around him as a magic pentagram was drawn around him. He stood calmly in the tornado of darkness as from that black mist, a demon made purely of shadows reaches out, calling his name with his ethereal voice. “(Y/n)… your soul, is mine…” the ethereal voice called out to him, its arm elongated and askew of humanity. Its bony fingers ready to tear his soul apart.

“Any time now love..” he grumbled, ready for a fight to the death. Standing upon the scaffolding of the interior. Wednesday drew an arrow, dipped in Silver. Her eye focused on the demon, ready to reveal itself. Its body began to open up like a cage of bones, darkness emitting like smoke. What was there was a black heart, beating so callously.

“Dammit Wednesday..” was his final thoughts, until the arrow let loose. It flew though the air and it struck true. Nailing the monster right in the heart, Wednesday began to descend the scaffolding, the beast reels in pain. Screaming as the silver sears his heart and thematically seals him to this world temporarily. The monster collapsed down, writhing in pain. (Y/n) sighs with relief, as the monster spirals in pain. Wednesday stands next to (Y/n) as they look over the monsters body.

“I..I will have my revenge!” It calls out, (Y/n) raises his hand.

“Sure lad, you try that, back to where you came from.” He said, the monster growls.

“W-wait! Fine, perhaps we can, strike a bargain?” He said.. (Y/n) scoffs and shook his head.

“Heard that Wednesday?” He said.

“A god begging for mercy.. pitiful.” She said, the demon reaches out but (Y/n) raised his hands to seal his spell.

“Attiuaiasis Qutendo Beneesta Sulpus Accuule!” He chanted, the spell holding the demon in this world was shattered. And once more he was dragged back to the pits of hell. The two stand there and (Y/n) kicks some of the salt, breaking the spell circle and putting an end to it all. Their peace was interrupted by a priest slowly opening the door, he peers in to see the two standing there. (Y/n) casually motions the priest to follow, the middle aged man looked around to see books everywhere, paper, and the unnerving sense of evil.

“Alright Bishop, your Church is free of the vicar curse.” He said, The priest blesses them.

“May god bless you both a thousand times over. We had no way to deal with this dark energy alone.” He explains, and Wednesday wasn’t the one for chit chat.

“We take our payment in cash and check.” She said flatly. (Y/n) glares at her, before the priest nods and hands them said check.

“Of course, like the Bible says; ‘You shall not muzzle an ox when it treads out the grain,’ and, ‘The laborer deserves his wages.’” He said, Wednesday takes it and departs, (Y/n) sighs and shakes the priests hand.

“If you require any other services or know anyone who does, give us a ring.” He said and catches up to Wednesday. She looks at the check but it’s suddenly pulled away from her and flies back, she watches it fall into the hand of (Y/n). The two begin to walk together along a barren plain like trail.

“You could at least say goodbye to the old man.” He says.

“Why?”

“Because we’re in Kansas and I highly doubt we’ll come back. Plus clientele.”

“I don’t see the point of pleasantries, we came to do a job, simple as that.” She says, (Y/n) shakes his head and they reach a building, but they didn’t need the building just the wall. Reaching into his pocket the reveals chalk, he draws a door on it.

“Point is love, we want this “Black Rum: Occult Detectives” thing to work out, we have to actually be like able.. well I have to be. You just be cute dark and broody.” He said, he then turns to the chalk drawing and spoke. “Ecrumis Queeyela Various.” He then blangs on the wall and it crumbled and behind the chalk outline was a door. (Y/n) walks on as Wednesday grumbles “I’m not Broody.” She said, they walk in and suddenly appear back at Nevermores Quad, (Y/n) closes the door and it crumbed to dust.

“So, why don’t we cash this in and ..Spend some quality time together?” He said raising an eyebrow.

“Fine, I suppose your company wouldn’t be an entire bore.” She walks off as the Magician follows. Chucking to himself.

#male reader #netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #reader insert #wednesday addams x reader #wedensday x you #john constantine #dc constantine #dc comics #dc

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attichaos · 1 year

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Colour Magick Correspondences & Ideas

*longer read*

Pretty easily applied for both beginner, closet and experienced practitioners alike! Can be used in most areas of mundane and magickal life (with some ideas listed below).

White

→ Cleansing, clarity, blessing, healing, innocence, truth, connection to spirits or the spiritual world, divine connection, consecration, dream work, psychic connection, purity, rest, moon magic, angelic work, devotion, harmony, prayer, peace, purification, universal truths. White can also be used as an all-purpose color for your intention when the color you want is not available.

Black

→ Banishing, transformation, uncrossing, endings, domination, protection, reversing, repulsion, freedom from evil, cursing, cloaking, sophistication, security, emotional safety, closure, breaking patterns, grief, mourning, absorbing, removing, trapping, encasing, the unconscious, mystery, shielding from the evil eye, *similarly to white - as black is an absence of colour it can be used for any colour if you don’t have them available* - personal opinion

Red

→ Passionate love, energy, action, attraction, sexuality, magnetism, will, force, anger, fire within, courage, warmth, lust, drive, pleasure, vitality, vigor, excitement, desire.

Orange

→ New opportunities, new ventures, new beginnings, change of plans, encouragement, opening the way, removing blocks, physical comfort, warmth, security, ambition, creativity, courage, optimism.

Yellow

-> Optimism, prosperity, happiness, good luck, attraction, success, confidence, visibility, fame, self-esteem, communication, concentration, focus, inspiration, intellect, logic, memory, knowledge, learning.

Green

→ Prosperity, abundance, wealth, generosity, money luck, career, growth, fertility, gambling luck, business, a good job, harmony, balance, healing, self-love, altruism, universal love, contact with fae and nature spirits.

Blue

→ Reconciliation, harmony, peace, kindness, healing, ideas, intelligence, wisdom, loyalty, sleep, meditation, communication, creativity, dream work, trust, blessings, calm, forgiveness, truth, bliss, inspiration, fidelity, honesty.

Purple

→ Healing, calming, tranquility, spirituality, meditation, pacification, cooperation, sensitivity, compassion, empathy, selflessness, empowerment, controlling, commanding, mastery, power, ambition, achievement, charisma, luxury, expansion, psychic ability, spirituality, authenticity, truth, transformation, insight, justice, wisdom, politics, divination, ESP, intuition, wishes, influence.

Pink

→ Romantic love, friendship, soul mates, sweet feelings, emotional healing, heart connection, affection, family love, admiration, physical tranquility, nurturing, warmth, youthfulness, healing grief, compassion, forgiveness, beauty, unconditional love.

Brown

→ Justice, balance, grounding, court cases, legal matters, being down-to-earth, practical matters, seriousness, reliability, support, stability, safety, earth, nature, animals, home, nostalgia, basic needs being met, balance.

Grey

→ Neutrality, neutralizing, invisibility, working in “gray areas,” anonymity, hiding from others, working in-between worlds, secrets, occult and arcane wisdom, reversing, uncovering mysteries and secrets, lifting curses, undoing prior spell work.

Silver

→ Dreams, intuition, psychic work, courtesy, honor, moon magic, rhythm, cycles, divination, illusions, glamour spells, wisdom.

Gold

→ Prosperity, fame, luxury, generosity, optimism, wisdom, enlightenment, victory, sun magic, confidence, life force, power, attraction, magnetism, vigor, charisma.

*highly recommend Madame Pamita’s Book of Candle Magic - covers colour magic especially in relation to spell work with candles.

Ideas

→ candle magick

→ glamour magick - also wearing/makeup using a colour which corresponds to the property you desire (good for closet witches)

→ sigil magick

→ craft magick

→ kitchen witchery - eg. Putting a specific colour food dye in a cake or drink etc

(Essentially anything you want!)

Merry meet,

Atti <3

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bright-side20 · 5 months

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Elain Archeron/The seer 🌸

Art by book_s150

_In greek mythology seers are often given their power by divine powers, and the visions they have are considered messages from gods for a purpose.

_Mor about Elain’s Vision:

“There is a reason why Elain is seeing these things. She was right about the other queen turning old, about the Ravens’ attack—why is she being sent this image? Why is she hearing this queen? It must be vital. If we ignore it, perhaps we’ll deserve to fail.”

I believe the cauldron gifted Elain such a powerful ability – the literal control of the future – because it saw her heart, recognizing that she could use this power properly for the better. That's why it didn't hurt her when it lured her, and why it purred when she stabbed the king because she had done what she had to.

With all the hints about the dusk court in silver flames, and now that Bryce is in Prythian, the plot of acotar is heading towards freeing the dusk court.

_ Nesta felt that she had been brought to the prison to take the harp, the instrument in which the people of the Dusk Court were probably imprisoned :

"She had the creeping feeling she’d been brought here. Not by the Cauldron or the Mother or the Harp. By something vaster. Something that stretched into the stars carved all around them."

_Elain:

"Elain began praying to the Fae’s foreign gods"

_Bryce :

“You think the gods have something to do with all this?” Again, the hair on her arms rose; the star on her chest dimmed and went dark.... “After this spring, I can’t help but wonder if there is something out there. Guiding all this. If there’s some game afoot that’s … I don’t know. Bigger than anything we can grasp.”

“What do you mean?”

'......' all of us, the Vanir … we all came from elsewhere. We were immigrants into Midgard. But what became of our home worlds? Our home gods? Do they still pay attention to us? Remember us?”

And then she ended up in Prythian 😃

Since the whole thing is planned by divine powers, and Elain is a seer who receives visions from divine powers for specific purposes—whether guiding, as when she told them about Vassa, warning, as when she told Feyre about the twin ravens, or shaping the course of events, like when she stabbed the king of Hybern to save Nesta and Cassian and directly helping in winning the war —I believe that she also received a vision about Bryce coming to Prythian and maybe other visions about the dusk court.

_Amren to Rhys :

Do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here.All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.

Yet, antis believe her story will be about leaving the NC and becoming an emissary. Nah, her power won't be wasted like that, and she won't leave her sisters; they are literally blessed and reunited by Fate.

_Amren :

you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.”

And since the people of the Dusk Court were imprisoned using the harp as it had been hinted :

“ I think someone very wicked used this last.” She stared into the darkness above. “I think they used it to … to trap their enemies and their enemies’ children into the stone itself.” Was that what had been happening to her just now? The Harp had been pushing her into the rock, fusing her soul with it?

The only one who can deal with the power of a made object without being hurt, the only one capable of rescuing the people of the Dusk Court now, is Elain, the cauldron-made seer. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something.

_Nesta took death, what could the cauldron have given Elain?.... Perhaps rebirth

And then we'll have the three sisters representing the circle of life: Feyre for life, Nesta for death, and Elain for rebirth.

#elainarcheron #elriel #pro elain #elain archeron #sarahjmaas #acotar thoughts #elriel supremacy #sjm #art #pro elriel

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lamemaster · 1 year

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The Curse of Bloodlines (Thranduil x Feanorian reader)

Thranduil x Feanorian reader

Genre: angst (shit ton of it)

Summary: You wonder if your child would be born before the passing of Spring or if they would be born in the creeping days of fall. 'Not long now,' you whisper to your belly.

Part 2: The Curse of Heart | Part 3: The Curse of the Uncursed

Day 475th of staying in your room. The air carried hints of creeping spring. The cloying fragrance of blooming flowers made its way into your room from wide open windows that were never closed. You could not bring yourself to close them. They were the only reminder of the world that existed outside your room.

The afternoon sun left you feeling drowsy as you huddled closer to your favorite nook next to the windows. Resting your head on the wall, you stretched your back to alleviate the hovering ache that rarely left you these days. You gently massaged your swollen feet, or at least tried to with your belly getting in the way.

You wondered if your child would be born before the passing of spring or if they would be born in the creeping days of fall. "Not long now," you whispered to your belly.

"You would be the prince of the Woodland Realm. Everyone would love you like they do for your father. You would grow up with so many people looking after you," you sniffed as you felt the butterflies of your child's movement under your hands. "Your father would give you anything you could wish for. He is an ellon who cares immensely for his people."

You tried to focus on the little flutter that tickled your palm or the cool breeze. You tried to ward away the thoughts that plagued your mind. They had been frequent these days. A premonition of what was to come. You avoided those thoughts to protect your child from their shadow.

However, a sense of mourning clouded your heart. It was the realization that you would not live to see your son. You could feel it in your soul and your body. Long ago, your great-grandmother Miriel had been the first-ever elf to die on the blessed lands, and now you felt the same fate looking back at you.

You were a Finwean, the granddaughter of Feanor, and the daughter of Celegorm. You hadn't known it for the longest time. You had grown up with a single mother who never spoke of your father. You didn't dare stir the grief that lay heavy on your mother's heart. Your father's name was never uttered in your household.

Maybe that was the reason why you assumed your silver hair to be from your Sinda mother. You simply did not fathom the possibility of it being a paternal trait. You did not care for your green eyes, which seemed to be a gift from your grandmother Nerdanel. Never had you ever thought of belonging to the cursed bloodline of the Noldor. The Silmarils had never called for your soul, you were not oath-bound, and your soul didn't long for your home beyond the seas.

It fooled you and Thranduil, who once loved you. He truly did, at the beginning of your courtship when every second of your existence was spent next to him. You both had wed early, and none had objected. You had once been the crown princess of Greenwood the Great.

Then it had come. A letter from your uncle who wandered unknown shores. It was a letter that shattered your world. And the beloved crown princess of Greenwood the Great became a kinslayer's daughter. Child of an ellon who had once slain the King of Beleriand.

All was lost when you learned of your father. Your people were no longer yours. Your mother, an unknown elleth who had picked you up from an abandoned camp. Most of all, your husband and all his love were gone.

You should have resented your uncle or your father, yet you could not bring yourself to. It would have been easy to deny the claim in the letter. It could have saved your marriage, but how could you? It seemed as if it was meant to be. How else could your father's name find you despite all that had happened? How else could your uncle, whom many called a wraith, remember you?

So you bore all the hate, anger, and resentment that came towards you. It was all you could offer these people. All that you could give your husband, who refused to look at you.

Thranduil had waited for you to deny the claim in the letter. He had expected it to be a lie. You would have too if not for everything pointing to one truth. Your silence had been the only answer you could offer your husband, a fact that broke his heart.

Your bond stretched thin with the barest presence lingering. It lingered on the edge of snapping. Had Miriel felt the same way too? You seemed to share a fate similar to your great-grandmother's. Maybe someday you would get a chance to ask her.

You would bear it all for the sake of your child. Even the confinement of your room was an acceptable fate to persevere for your and Thranduil's child.

It had been an unspoken sentence laid down by Oropher. You were banned from the gardens and woods you grew up in. Stables, lakes, halls, kitchens...you were prohibited from them. It started with guards following your every step and ended with the room you had not left for the past year.

It could have been a prison cell if you had not been carrying the heir of the Woodland realm. Or maybe you would have been kicked out of your home. You would have accepted it. Maybe that would have appeased all those who had been wronged by your father.

Therefore, you did not mourn the weariness that lay heavy on your soul. Whatever doom awaited you would free Thranduil and your child from your existence. None in Greenwood would burden them with your family's wrongdoings.

#the hobbit #the silmarillion #tolkien elves #noldor #thranduil x reader #Feanorian reader #celegorm #angst #middle earth #two shot #thranduil x wife #thranduil

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simplyreveries · 2 months

Note

I RETURNED >:D🌼

Hi, there! I saw that orders were open so I ran as soon as possible so I could make my own. If it's not too much trouble I would like to request:

Type: Headcanons (Romantic)

Reader: Female

Scenario: Ok, let's go back to the previous scenario from my Jealousy request with Jade, Deuce and Silver. A suitor becomes aware of said boy's feelings so he begins to flirt and be more open in his affections with the prefect until in a bold move, the suitor steals (the first) kiss from the prefect. How would they react or handle the situation?

Man it would be a roller coaster of events and emotions and even chaos xD

If my order does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if it doesn't, take your time and without pressure. I hope you have managed to rest after so many requests, you deserve it 💐✍️✨💕

YOU'VE RETURNED! happy to see u again!! love the request,, anything with silver will make me extra happy hehe

jade leech

he finds it slightly surprising at first that a student is actually willing to do something like that intentionally, right in front of him. it fades into amusement that the student believes he can truly, completely win you over. its genuinely so unnerving the way jade acts especially when the boy is being over the top right in front of him. he knows a lot of people don't particularly like him, but the fact that he would show that is funny.

like i have mentioned previously with jade and his jealousy, he always finds some way to above and beyond what that guy is doing for you. it becomes some sort of rivalry between them, but jade just finds ways to do it better. besides, jade has his own ways and tricks to making him mess up or make some fool of himself somehow most of his attempts look quite embarrassing on the boys behalf.

when he finds out that he took your first kiss he's smiles and is like "oh is that so? how cute fufufu" bless the poor students soul. but seriously, jade will not stop his advances, you and the student aren't even officially together so what's really stopping him? he's more than willing to do what it takes to have him get what he wants, and it just happens to be you.

deuce spade

deuce takes it more immaturely a bit, since he tends to not think thoroughly about what he's going to do he just acts. so, any time when that student is by you being openly flirtatious, he's always there trying to do something to steer the attention away. it always gets him so riled up when the student smiles condescendingly at him knowing full well he's trying to get together with you, when deuce has always had his heart set on you.

will go out of his way more and more to do just that, even if it's something as simple as getting a seat next to you or doing some act of service to you. internally begging but his face clearly shows “don't give this guy the time of day PLEASE” deuce believes you just deserve better and even if he isn't perfect, he knows that he will always do his best to do things that go past your expectations.

in comparison to the suitor, i feel like deuce would definitely have more pure intentions with you— whereas it feels like that student had only amped up his boldness to you out of pure spite and mockery of him. deuce just genuinely wants you and him happily together, y'know— without this guy constantly going after you and show that he can certainly treat you much better than that guy.

feels a sharp pain in his chest when you admit the boy was your first kiss, he tries to be a supportive friend and be happy for you but it's so hard for him in that moment. he desperately wishes that were him. he still stays determined even after, you and the guy aren't actually together- he still will continue to have you give him a chance. he'll prove it!!

silver

he doesn't want to be one for being irrational and being aggressive towards others. but he can't help the way he feels and the anger and resentment towards the boy build up in his chest when he is so obviously trying to win you over right in front of silver. he grits his teeth and gives a stern look; he doesn't say much first but he sometimes may make an attempt to get in between the two of you with his body.

silver doesn't want to feel like he is interfering with you or your happiness though if you find yourself liking the attention and affection from the boy. he loves seeing you happy, it's really all he wants from you— but the fact that it's from someone else in a romantic sense breaks his heart.

so, he is stuck between doing something or silently watching from the side. it depends on how he is feeling or how far the student is willing to go I’d think. at the end of the day though he is solemnly protective over you and is willing to do drastic measures to make sure you're kept safe and away from what he believes could cause you pain, even emotionally with this guy.

knowing that he stole your first kiss did hurt— it felt like he couldn't compete as it felt like he had really won you over. but even then, he never stopped wanting to pursue you. he couldn't help it, he still is stubborn and isn't willing to exactly accept defeat. he'll still find himself actively going out of his way to have you see him instead. besides, he thinks you deserve better and he's more than willing to be that for you.

#hehehe tyyy #twst x reader #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twisted wonderland

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

Text

‘just kill me and be done with it’

Based off an ask by @rochyu ‘where y/n was Aemonds wife (daemon and rhaenyra daughter) was attacked by some guards who had been sent to assassinate him. She was pregnant’

Warnings below the cut~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: threat of noncon, murder, gore, blood

A/N: I got inspired and wrote this basically in two days, but I am not super happy with it oops. I changed the request a bit because it initially included noncon but I don’t really wanna write that, so changed it slightly, hope that’s ok requester!

It was an abnormally quiet evening in the Keep. You adored moments like these in such a busy environment, after all the hatred and war that had developed between your families. You sat in your usual large armchair, a dress laid in your lap that you were fixing various holes in, eyes squinting to focus on the tiny, fine detailing.

A small laughter filled the air and you looked ahead to the two little people sat before the fire, the flames illuminating their silver-gold heads. You smile softly at Helaena’s twins, oh how you doted on the two innocent little souls. It was rare that you enjoyed moments like this on twin-watching duty as Helaena was very rarely out of the Keep. But all three of Alicent’s children had gone to retrieve their fourth sibling, Daeron, from Oldtown to join in the war, Alicent having gone with them. Leaving you in the safety of the servants and some of the Kingsguard to protect you.

You and Aemond had been married many years and at the time, it had been to mend the rift between the two sides of your family caused by Luke slicing Aemond’s eye on that fateful night at Driftmark. Back then, you had been used by your parents Rhaenyra and Daemon as a tool to bring the family closer together, as Viserys was alive then, it was paramount to keep up appearances. When you turned ten and seven, the wedding came and when Aemond had cloaked you to bring you under his protection that day, you felt afraid. You did not know what this Aemond was like.

But on that wedding night he insisted on treating you with great care and delicacy, taking every fear you had to heart and promising to fix whatever was broken. The memories of that night, even years later, were the most happy ones you had and all the days and months that came after sought to rival it. For such a man with a reputation even in the Keep, he was sensitive, delicate, caring and most of all loving to his Princess.

Even though you had yet to be blessed with children, it was not for lack of trying, but now as the years passed you began to believe it may be an issue that lies with you. And for this, you felt like you were not a worthy wife. A fact which Aemond denied endlessly.

He seemed the only person in your life that attempted to lift your spirits, at such a tumultuous time like this. Your parents, of whom you would love unconditionally, were now on the other side of the war and had not attempted to contact you since waging the war for Rhaenyra’s throne. Daemon, on the other hand, would not be so forgiving. Even going as far to refuse the marriage at the time of your betrothal, he was doubly angered that you were married even now. For now, you belonged to the greens and he felt as if he had lost his daughter to them.

Despite Aemond only having left this morning, you felt the ache of loneliness in your heart and sighed out loud. But your quiet evening was interrupted when you jumped out of skin at the doors opening with a mighty slam. Your wide eyes met the door, the twins even looking over in shock. Two men, both the most different in stature, stood at the doorway. Your wide eyes noted their weapons, the larger, burly man carried a sword that you swore was almost the length of you and the other smaller, lanky man carried a dagger.

You ushered the twins behind you as you stood to attention, swallowing heavily as your eyes met the slumped up body of a Kingsguard on the other side of the door. His body hung across the threshold, eyes wide and blood pooling beneath his body. And at the sight of this, you felt the hairs on your arms stand entirely on end. But the men approached slowly, the larger one with a smile wide on his face.

“There you are” the larger man said, twirling his large sword in his hand. The twins gripped at your dress, whimpering in fear, “We’ve been looking for you”

“Who are you, tell me at once” you ordered, trying to stabilise your voice to get the fear out of your tone. But it simply served to make the larger man laugh once more. The other’s eyes were on the children the entire time, like a vulture trying to sneak a peck at a corpse.

“Who would have thought our dear Queen had such a sharp tongue”

Queen? You stood confused. And you wracked your brain for a moment. And then it hit. They thought you were Helaena with her twins. You shared the hair and the eyes and Helaena was indeed not here. But with fear deep set in your bones, you were rendered speechless and felt entirely powerless.

Whether it was Helaena or her children they sought to harm, you swore to her you would protect them. All these thoughts buzzing around your fearful mind, you sought to open the secret doorway you and Aemond would often use in the early days of your marriage, a door that could luckily be locked from the inside.

Running with the twins to the corner of the room, you opened and shoved them inside, using your hurried words, “Dear ones, for the love of your mother, lock this door and do not open it, do you understand me?” you ask them, tears hot behind your eyes as you notice their frightened little faces, begging to cry, begging to be held.

“Please don’t leave us” Jahaera whined, reaching out. You looked behind you to see the two men approach, hastier this time.

“Lock this door and do not come out”

You slam the door and feel a pang at your chest in relief as you hear them lock it from the inside almost instantly. Your chest heaved with fear and one single tear ran down your cheek as you turned, only to find the larger man had appeared so close to you. With a hand grasped at your throat, tightening more and more he slammed you against the stone wall. Your eyes widened at the force of it, hands coming to attempt to pry his large hand from your neck to no avail, mouth open to say something, but with no air to supply it.

He held you there, a grin on his face, “Sneaky whore”

Your fingers tried to wrap around his, wanting desperately for at least some air to pass into your lungs. The other man spoke,

“Can’t get this damned door open!” he shouted, kicking at it. You closed your eyes, hoping and praying the twins had escaped to another place in the secret doorways, so they didn’t have to hear all this. The man before you grunted in displeasure and without a second thought had released his hold on your throat to deliver a firm, back-handed slap to the face.

A small yelp escaped you as you fall to the ground. The room span and your vision blurred, but holding your face you looked up to see his sheer perverse glare.

“If we cannot have his first son, we shall have his wife”

The words were supposed to be laced with fear, but at his sheer stupidity to mistake you for Helaena the only thing you could do was smirk and let out a weak laugh. Propping yourself up on an elbow, you spit out,

“Since you’ve fucked up our original plan, tell me this” he spat out, “Where is the Prince Aemond”

“You fools”

His expression instantly changed, and not one for a damaged ego you yelp out again as his hand clamps around your arm to drag you across the room. The familiar prick of fear hits your spine as you realise he’s thrown you to the bed, pinning one of your arms to the mattress below you. He only laughs loudly at your expression and your futile attempt to hit him with the other. But one of his large hands was big enough to capture both of your small ones and you writhed about, wanting to be free from underneath him.

The mention of his name had your face pale, and you begin to tear up with the realisation that he may well find you dead in the morning having been sullied and murdered by these two intruders. If such a thing were to happen, he would be heartbroken. And by the Gods, you would not like to see Aemond when he is driven by revenge and nothing else.

“Where is the kinslayer, whore” he commands it this time by shouting in your face, you wince at his sudden volume before opening your eyes once more. The silence is palpable and you must know he isn’t a patient man. So you say nothing for a moment, until his hand is in the air, ready to hit you once more.

“Just kill me and be done with it” your words are heavy with hatred.

He merely chuckles and pushes you further up the bed, so your head is below the pillows. He pulls a dagger from his belt and holds it forcefully to your throat, and it is so sharp that you yelp as he leads the point from your chest to your neck as if cutting through butter, the blood spills from the empty cuts down your body and stains your dress.

“Oh we will kill you. But we’d like a bit of fun, first. Since you’re here all on your own, we can make you scream”

You gasped loudly as the man begins to rip your dress, tearing the skirt into a thousand tiny pieces. And you do go to cry out, but feel that familiar sharp pain against your throat and instead choose to stay quiet, attempting to instead use your legs to kick against him as much as you could. Even at this, he is too big to care of your tiny pleas and instead laughs loudly, so much so that his head rolls back.

“Fight all you like”

You screw your eyes shut. If this was actually happening, you did not want to see it.

He rips a sleeve off the dress, exposing your shoulder and he laughs sardonically, releasing your hands for a moment to pull up the skirts of your dress so they are over your hips. You whimper out, bracing yourself until your eyes snap open. That’s it, you thought. Aemond always kept his dagger under his pillow. And with the man above you so focussed on ripping apart your luckily many layers of dress, your hand wanders to the pillow. Silently praying he had not taken it with him.

As the man is about to rip apart your smallclothes, laughing to himself as he did so, your small hand clamps around the handle of the dagger Aemond had left behind and without a second thought, you plunge it to the hilt into his throat. For a moment, you wondered if you had done anything as he just stayed completely still. Pulling the dagger from him, blood spurts from the new wound and all over your dress, completely drenching you from the neck down in his blood.

If you weren’t so hellbent on getting him off you might have gagged at the thought of such a despicable man’s blood being all over you, but right now, you could not have cared less as you pushed his heavy, now lifeless form off you and onto the ground. Standing over him, his blood stained the floor and his eyes vacantly looked over to you, wide-eyed at the prospect of dying. There was a sick sense of pleasure to see such a horrible man die.

Clutching the dagger tightly in your hand still, you moan out in pain as the other, lanky man turned upon you, angered at the death of his friend. Before you could swipe the dagger, he pulled you into a headlock, his own dagger-wielding hand high and intent to push into you. Your hand went out to his arm, stopping his hand. And you knelt there in his tight headlock, hand shaking and pushing his own weapon away from your face.

Eventually the lack of air began to affect your head and you felt light-headed, vision blurry and the strength put against his hand beginning to falter. Without really thinking, you took the dagger in your other hand and aimed it behind you, hearing a squelch as it was drawn into his stomach. Desperately, you twist it further into him, satisfied it has at least done something.

Your suspicions are correct when his strength weakens around your neck and behind his hand and confident that he is beginning to falter, you pull the dagger from him and drive in again, and again, and again, until he is barely fighting back.

His body falls away from you to the ground, but you barely look at him and slump back against the wall, looking ahead at the floor as if dissociated. Blood is dripping across every part of your body, down your neck, against your shoulders, down your legs and it has invaded every particle of your otherwise cream dress, the other parts of it are scattered about the end of the bed. Proof that he had tried to sully you.

And there you sat, hoping and praying that at least the twins were safe somewhere. Your breathing eventually evens out, but the hazy feeling doesn’t leave you and that feeling of searing danger is still there in your bones, even though the two men lay dead on the ground. Still and lifeless.

You do not hear a member of the Kingsguard arrive and make their may over to you, their hurried speaking of concern all but muffled to you. It is only when they place a hand on your bare shoulder that you wail out, screaming for them to get their hands off you. The tears that were held back the entire time now spilling from your eyes, leaving clear trails against the blood on your neck and chest in fat lines. You felt completely powerless.

“Get away from me!” you screamed, not wanting the touch of anyone, you backed yourself up against the wall further, ordering for him to leave. For a moment, he watched, concerned and wide-eyed before obeying.

As he left, the doors were left open and servants scurried about as well as Kingsguard, frantically searching for more intruders but finding none. But you simply sat there, staring ahead and letting the tears fall down your face silently. The truths of the last hour hitting you like a train. You could have died. The twins could have died. And Aemond…if he were here…

The thought of Aemond sent a new wave of tears down your face. Would he want you after this?...

The sun had long descended by now and the servants had attempted to approach you, even the female ones, but every single one was chased away by your outbursts, simply wanting to be left alone.

In the dead of night, perhaps even early the next morning, the Green family hastily returned. All three of Alicent’s children escaped the carriage as soon as it arrived. Aegon and Helaena afraid for the safety of their children and Aemond for the safety of his beloved wife. He could feel his heart beating furiously out of his chest and he had wanted to vomit the entire trip home once his mother received a raven on the trip. It was a letter addressed to her only,

A son for a son.

Lock or no lock, the Queen will be a son short by morning.

Of course, the family had turned around straight away and hurriedly returned home, albeit several hours after the intrusion had actually taken place. The Keep looked as if it had been turned upside down and the worried voices of the three children and Alicent rang out in echoes, halfway between cries and shouting.

A Kingsguard collared Aemond in one hallway, leading him to the entrance of the room where you were still sitting, shaking. And once Aemond saw you at the other side of the room, his heart stilled in his chest with fear and despair. He could see the large, dark colours of blood that stuck to the ground as well as your body, though you were far from his grasp.

As if approaching a terrified animal, his steps were light and he swallowed heavily, crossing the room with such quietness. The bodies had not been taken away, for the fear of upsetting you within the room and Aemond observed them. His heart ached. They were larger men than you, much larger. And how you had been able to put up a fight with them at all was a surprise to everyone.

“Y/n?...” he said quietly, but you did not move. And if not for your laboured breathing and widened eyes, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you were conscious.

He wanted so desperately to reach out and hold you, but the Kingsguard told him you were in a delicate condition and allowed nobody to touch you.

He was so close now, he could see every line of tears that you had made against the dark, crimson blood. His hand reached out to your wrist, barely touching it and you pulled back and screwed your eyes shut.

“No! Please…get away!...” you screamed, immediately shaking with fear, dagger in the other hand raised to strike if needed.

Aemond held his hands in the air, heart shattering at his wife’s words.

“Okay…okay…” he cooed soothingly, “...I’m going to stay here, okay?”

No response but a whimper came from you. His eyes raked over you and he felt the desire to clench his fists. Your dress was completely ruined and he noted that your smallclothes had been ripped and discarded to the ground. At this, rage began to boil inside of him.

“Y/n…it’s me…” he started, his voice low and calm, “...Aemond”

Your lids flinched slightly and he had some hope that he was getting through to you. You whimpered again, hand tightening around his dagger.

“I will not come any closer…until you want me to, okay?” he said, “can you open your eyes for me, my love?...”

You took a scattered breath in at the pet name, as if drawing you back to the surface from drowning, eyes opened and looked ahead at him. But mostly in shock and relief. Your mouth was open as if to say something, but you simply sat there, shivering in fright.

“It’s me, my love…your husband…”

Aemond sees the recognition in your eyes and you want to laugh with glee, but all you manage is a smile that is laced with relief but also fear.

“A-Aemond…” you inhale a breath to let out a cry, “I’m sorry…”

He is on his knees, slowly inching towards you. “Shh..it’s okay…you are safe, okay?”

You only give him a short and silent nod.

“Now…I’m going to need you to do something for me” he starts, inching a little closer, “...I’m going to need you to drop the dagger, okay?”

Your breath hitches, the fear slowly beginning to ebb away at the sight of your husband.

Your weapon-wielded hand reaches out to your side, watching Aemond the entire time and he seems to let a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding loose when the dagger lands with a rattle against the stone floor. He slowly reached out to take it from near you, placing it in its rightful place at his side now.

“Now, the maesters need to come in to see y-”

“They didn’t do it”

Your interruption stops Aemond in his tracks and he kneels to listen to you as you tearfully relay, finally, what had happened.

“They didn’t…” you say, hesitant to say the word, “...they didn’t manage to…”

You can see the relief on Aemond’s face as he understands what you mean, his eye closes, not tightly.

“I had to keep them safe…” you say, referring to the twins.

Aemond nods, a ghost of a smile on his face, “Yes…yes, you did brilliantly, my love. The twins are safe…”

Almost too quickly, you are launching yourself into Aemond’s awaiting arms, head firmly against his chest. There are no more tears left in you, so you simply revel in his warm arms around you, hugging you tightly. He felt the hot tears prick at his eye at your sudden change of mood for the better and he himself sank into this feeling, not caring of the blood that was getting all over him.

“Aemond…I s-swear…they didn’t…” you looked up at him, your sobs making your voice waver, fearing your reputation if anything else.

He cradled your face with one large hand, wiping the tears away, “Shh…my love, I believe you…”

He stroked your hair lovingly and you seemed to calm down.

“The maesters would like to take a look at you…you do not have to do anything more than necessary-”

“No” you shook your head, knowing that the maesters would want to inspect intimately. But, you thought, it was best to quell any rumours right away, “I will…” you answer, voice still wavered but more sure now.

Aemond had been with you the entire time, holding your hand tightly as the maesters performed their examinations. Some were trivial and easy, others more intimate in the face of the near tragedy that had occurred. And while one maester began to clean the wound on your throat, the other approached Aemond, as your husband, to deliver his diagnosis.

“There is no trauma to her intimately, you will be happy to know” the maester began. Aemond nodded and looked over at you as the other cleaned your wounds and the blood from you. Of course, he had known that already. He believed the truth that you had told him.

“She will have some scars, but it will be difficult to tell how the experience has affected the baby for some time”

Aemond nodded, but hesitated at the word ‘baby’, a spark sent through him. Almost at the same time, you whipped your head up and looked toward the other maester in confusion.

“Baby…?” you ask quietly. The maester turns to you, nodding.

“Of course, Princess. When was the last you bled?”

Your eyes met the floor in thought, “But I bled two moons ag-oh” the realisation dawned on you. And your eyes met Aemond’s, but he was just as shocked as you.

“For certain?” you ask.

“Oh yes” the maester responded, as if it were obvious.

Rather uncharacteristically, Aemond rushed to you and pulled you into his arms, one hand stroking your hair while the other stroked your back. You melted into his embrace, for the first time in hours, feeling as if some luck had been bestowed onto you. Had the gods determined you a worthy wife? Finally.

“Oh my little fighter…” Aemond murmured into you. He shuts his eye forcefully to blink away a tear, with the knowledge he has now that he could very well have lost more than just his wife this night.

For the first time in hours, you cried with happiness, tightening your arms around your husband as the tears fell down your face.

But the fear lingered and you had remembered how fragile life itself had been in the last day, so when Aemond pulls away and sees your face, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears and leans down, “What is it, my love?”

You look up at him, the emotions fighting in your head, “Aemond…” your mouth is open trying to find the words, “I am happy…of course…but I am also afraid”

He cups your face lovingly, “I know my love…I know”

As he brings you in for another embrace, he knows that no words right now can quell that fear you have after the traumatic experience you just went through. You felt vulnerable, like prey and Aemond promised himself he would do whatever it takes to make you feel safe. Even if it meant staying by your side for as long as you needed him.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #Aemond the Kinslayer #Aemond x Reader #aemond angst #aemond fluff #aemond #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon fandom #hotd angst #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

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I’m still on about the cute pet names how do you think the various shart!version’s would react to being called my heart especially the angy shart variations like dark! And were! I wanna know how they react to the sheer softness of it.

Shadowheart Au's reacting to the nickname "My Heart"

[ Bg3, fluff, alternative universe, nb!reader ]

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart

It would take her by surprise, not just the petname but the sheer softness in your voice when you said it to her. After all she has put you through, she feels like she deserves nothing but pure venom from you

And yet, you're ever so gentle and sweet when you talk to her.

My heart. It's what you called her. Did you realise how much that simple name drummed on the strings of her own heart? She can never show you. You may never know the power you wield over her.

She can't afford it.

Selunite Shadowheart

"Then you're my soul" she'd reply, feeling the comforting warmth spread through her. She's truly blessed to have someone like you in her life, isn't she?

To call her something, so delicate, so precious. She is blushing as she smiles in coy embarrassment. When did she get so soft so much to get giddy as something like that?

She doesn't remember a time of her life when she got to experience anything similar. If she had to guess, she probably never did before.

Everything in this relationship is so new to her, and she gets a new pleasent surprise from you every day.

Vampire Shadowheart

"What a cold heart you have then." She'd playfully reply as she caresses your face with her fingers, cold skin contrasting against the heat on your cheeks.

She is attempting to play it cool and hide her flustration by making you the center of attention again.

Hide how much that petname affected her more because of the fact it is your own blood that runs through her veins, and you called her your heart so tenderly as if she had any right to that blood.

As if you saw her not as the parasite she saw herself as but as part of yourself, a part so precious that it deserved your blood and title of your heart. She is beyoned touched, she will remember your words forever.

Werewolf Shadowheart

She's willing to be more than your heart. She's willing to be your hands and claws, your eyes and teeth. She is willing to give you her own heart if you asked for it, she'd rip it out of her chest and present it on a silver platter for you.

The feelings and her thoughts are too intense that she doesn't get the chance to express them. Instead of a reply, you get pulled into a very intimate hug, her face between your shoulder and neck as she breathes in your scent.

"You really drive me crazy sometimes," she breathes out, eyes trained on the bite mark on your neck while she composes herself again.

Cowboy Shadowheart

The campfire burned brightly against the night sky. You could feel a steady rhythm of the fall and rise of her chest below your head. Cuddling more into her lap, you whispered the petname.

You swore you heard her heartbeat spike for a second, her arms tightening around you as she avoided looking into your eyes. Her head turned to the side whilst her hat lowered in an attempt to hide the redness creeping up her neck.

"It's almost criminal how sweet you are" She'd say, kissing the top of your head after she recollected he dignity enough to turn her head back at you.

#♡shart #♡wereshart #♡vampshart #♡dark shart #♡selunite shart #♡yeehaw shart #shadowheart x reader #♡fluff #fluff #dart Justiciar Shadowheart #bg3 x reader #vampire Shadowheart #werewolf Shadowheart #cowboy Shadowheart #bg3 fluff

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

Text

— " 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓; 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄 "

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ; Falling into a Lion's cage isn't everyone's way of finding love and yet it was yours, the zoo keepers warned you about your ignorance and yet you did exactly the opposite of what you were told, were you happy with your decision?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ; Fluff, Leona Kingscholar x Reader, Mutual pinning, Unexpected confession, Reader mainly pins after Leona and Leona confesses, The rest is a surprise!

Falling for him was unexpected, it was a change in your thoughts. You’d have never expected that out of everyone he would be the one you fell for. Prolonging your visits with him, letting your thoughts and eyes trail, gazing over his sleepy figure. Truly; you didn’t expect this, you never thought you could fall so deeply.. for someone. Each small compliment replaying in your head, the memory engraved into your skull deeply, as if it was a core memory that you couldn’t quite forget. The memory and words would replay in your head, every single night, tossing and turning. You really were trapped in the lion's cage.

No wonder zoo keepers would keep the cage so heavily guarded, it was a dangerous playground for a poor human like you, with a heart out in the open. It would be pitiful if you thought that he hadn’t noticed, in fact Leona was beyond aware of your obvious feelings. The gazes that prolonged, the sudden eye-contact, the way you anticipated his responses in simple and normal situations. The lion had you cornered in its cage, analyzing your every movement… waiting for you to make a move, so it could pounce.

Would it be a surprise to you, if he said he enjoyed it? The unending copious amounts of attention, eyes directed to him; and him only? Leona cherished the feeling of never ending praise, that fell so easily from your lips, as if it was an instrument that you so desperately played in perfect harmony; craving affirmation for your achievements, which he generously would provide every now and then.

The Lion had you trapped in its cage, the zookeeper's were warning you not to go in, you watched as they tried to free you from the enclosure of the cage, as you were pinned down by the beast. You stared into his deep green eyes, they were so beautiful; as he confessed his love to you.. the words were playful yet its affect on you was more than apparent, as you felt your cheeks warm up, and your chest thumping in it’s cage; your heart threatening to step out of its place.

Leona’s love was odd, he never truly learned how to love but it was cute how he made an effort; it went from small dates, small little compliments that you’d enframe in your memory. A museum of him was trapped in your mind, the lion’s eyes looked hungrier every time he gazed upon you. He opened up to you slowly, everything playing out well. Everything framed in a beautiful silver frame, encrusted with the two of your initials.

And then it broke, you watched as he distanced himself. The loving eyes slowly and effortlessly turned into the tired and annoyed ones you were graced with, when you had first met him. The compliments lowered and lowered, the conversations that you two would share for hours and hours on end, the calls that would last from midnight till dawn; were no more.

You saw his tired form, treating you as if you were a mistake; he couldn’t remember when your anniversary and birthday was, in fact, you saw him sleeping pitifully curled up in the botanical garden, alone. The gaze Ace and the other first years gave you, was soul crushing; as they watched you gaze at him from a distance.. Maybe as a poor weak kid, you should’ve listened to the zoo keeper, and never entered the Lion’s cage, and yet you did. You stepped in, with an open heart; on full display, you let him see you at your worst, you blessed him with what he momentarily loved.

You thought things were looking up, when your lover; that you couldn’t bring yourself to cut off, despite how Grim and others argued with you, trying so hard to knock some sense into you.., invited you to a family event.. Yet you were once again hit with the cold, soul crushing realization how distant the two of you were now. As you watched him being swooped up in a crowd instantaneously, sitting in a corner. You avoided the judgmental and jealous gazes you received, finally.. maybe some sense was knocked into you.

The balcony was empty and grim, the lighting was dim, an equivalent imagery for your heartbreak. The Lion had you trapped in its cage, and even when you were free to go, you were just too mesmerized and entranced, tied down by the dreams and hopes you had planned and thought of beforehand… You felt pressure on your shoulder, you prayed mentally that it was the person you had hoped would give you an ounce of affection in this entire event.. but you were wrong.. It was Leona’s brother, you watched him sigh, giving you that all too familiar pitiful gaze.

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argisthebulwark · 6 months

Text

I Carry It With Me

summary: How they, as your partner, view their love for you. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used feat: Miraak, Brynjolf, Vilkas, Mercer, Erandur warnings: minor mentions of death, grief

Miraak views it as a scar - old and faded but never forgotten. He holds onto it long after he's outlived you, carrying it like scar tissue deep in his chest. Miraak is often caught rubbing a hand over a heart that still beats for you, some coming to believe an unhealed wound remains under all those robes. Only he knows the truth - his touch is but an echo of your own, mimicking the memory of your fingers pressed to his skin while vowing your love to one another.

Brynjolf often refers to your love for him as his good luck charm. He claims he cannot work without you, that he'd land in a frigid cell should he ever forget a kiss before leaving the Cistern. Having you at his side results in his best work. He swears that he would be lost without you, after working together once he would be useless on his own.

Vilkas is annoyed by his feelings for you. He views it as a weakness for potential enemies to exploit. He worries about Silver Hand witnessing a tenderness he reserves for you and twisting his feelings like a knife. Late in the night when sleep seems impossible he drives himself mad worrying over the multitude of ways he could lose you.

Mercer knows that his love for you must be a curse. Lips that once sneered at Karliah's wails as she collapsed before Gallus' body now press to your skin so thoughtlessly. A life lived selfishly comes to a screeching halt upon your introduction. Plans once centered on fortunes now revolve around you. A curse has surely been laid upon him - each sweet moment you share laced with guilt, the knowledge that he's taken the same from someone who once called him a friend.

Erandur sees your love as his second chance. He's lost so much of his life but in you he finds renewed energy, a purpose to atone for all his sins. Meeting you must have been arranged by Lady Mara. His goddess had graced him with a partner who'd taken his hand at his lowest and remained at his side while he recovered. He treats your love as if it is a balm for his soul, a blessing he will forever cherish.

#skyrim #skyrim fanfic #x reader fanfic #skyrim x reader #writing #miraak #brynjolf #vilkas #mercer frey #erandur

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storyshark2005 · 2 months

Text

Carraville Rec List !

See below, self-explanatory!! I'm sure I missed some bangers, so feel free to reblog and add more, or comment. I pulled all these straight off my AO3 bookmarks list. They are ALL COMPLETE, so I didn't add any WIPSs! Please note I separated "older/classic" recs from the amazing fountain of NEW works we've been blessed with in the past 3-4 months or so. Note: IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER!

Enjoy you little dancers!!

⚽️❤️ MY CLASSIC CARRAVILLE PICKS ❤️⚽️

Lockjaw by anonymous - Workplace blowjob fic that grows into a much deeper story. Sexy-with-feels MNF era Carraville. Amazing ‘show don’t tell’ characterization, top top dialogue. Gary hiding past trauma and Jamie finding out. A crime this is anonymous, I want to read more from this author!!

the ghosts of you and me by @blindbatalex - ahhhmazingly written, MNF-era Carraville. Uses ‘snowed in’ trope to delve greater depths of a break up; old wounds, things unspoken, beautiful writing and a really pulled-back tone that aches.

the ocean and the coast by @carraville - Valencia!Gary. Jamie POV. Jamie pining. Lovely poetic style. “I have a separate plate for you.” <3 <3 <3

In Your Boots by @thesecretdetectivecollection- funny, sweet, MNF-era. SO CUTE Gary jumping to conclusions and panicking over Jamie leaving. Lots of Jamie-scenery descriptions of pretty eyes and "absurd cheekbones" and "Jamie's reliable heart" <3

keep your silver, give me that gold by @blindbatalex - MNF-era Carraville. Jamie decides to box Rio Ferdinand. Gary has SERIOUS RESERVATIONS about his beefy colleague (just colleague, no feelings, cough cough) putting himself in harms way for a stupid charity wager. Thing come to a head in a good way. Lots of verbal eye candy Carra. <3

Loss / loss / win by milleseptcent guuuuh the SCALE! The FEELS! Soulmates Carraville. Takes place from playing days to MNF-era. Gary and Carra, both without soul marks, fuck around in a casual relationship... for about twenty years. The ending is SO SWEET!

Anything That Isn’t This by @kloppend the sleeping death apocalypse fic, read if you want to ruin yourself for two or three days but ALSO the beauty of the writing is 100% worth the devastation, one of the finest written pieces in the fandom imho. HAUNTING, gorgeous, aching, amazing.

Play the Whistle by @zevons - Referee!AU Carraville!! What more do you need to know?! Gary and Jamie’s football dreams never came true, so they do the next best thing. Lovely Jamie&Stevie friendship. Enemies to lovers. So much snippy banter before they realize they are actually besties who want to smootch. FEEL GOOD but with tons of depth as well.

amunt by @carraville short, punchy, poetic = classic redandgold! Valencia!Gary, pining!Jamie. Also incredible that this was written only two weeks into Gary’s appointment, BEFORE the Barcelona loss, before things unravelled, so it’s an amazing time-capsule into the fandom in late 2015 (when they didn’t know if Gary would ever come back!)

Through fresh eyes by @aramblingjay - Jamie comes to MNF. Gary deals. Truly top-notch writing, amazing language, deft characterization. It never overindulges while remaining poignant throughout. Can be read as pre-Carraville or platonic-soulmates type friendship. It’s tagged as incomplete but it is finished. Essential reading, a classic!

Advantages of Playing Away by @zevons MNF-era testimonial blowjob in Old Trafford dressing room Carraville!! Sooo sweet, soooo hot, dialogue is sharp and funny. Just perfect <3

Remedial Exercises in Teamwork by @zevons - more saltstreets!!! HOGWARTS AU, both of them are Gryffindor beaters (so in character for them), both obsessed with quidditch. Background!gerlonso. Implied Professor Pep/Mou !!! Detention!flirting!! I mean!!! Sir Alex the owl!!! Checks all the boxes, nostalgic, sweet, enemies to boyfriends. <3

⚽️❤️RECENT AMAZING 2023/2024 CARRAVILLE WE ARE BLESSED WITH ❤️⚽️

Tasting Syrup on My Tongue by @heyyjulien - PLAYERS ERA!!! Jamie and Gary have a casual relationship that gets put to the test after Jamie’s injured in a derby game. Great banter-to-feels ratio, you will want to put Julien’s sweet Jamie in your pocket and give their Gary a big hug. Great romantic closing scene where they negotiate the implications of Jamie’s injury scare. Also SCHOLESY!! <3

It’s just not what’s done by @player1064 truly a Carraville writer that ‘burst onto the scene’ as fast and furious as Micah Richards! My fave of theirs. A truly hysterical premise on the surface that they plumb deep to turn up real emotion. I love the time-jump style. Wonderful David&Gary friendship, as well as all of the Co92 rallying around Gary. Covers all eras up until today, with a January 2024 Carraville in Courcheval scene!! <3

Package Deal (It’s Valentine’s Day, ye dimwit) by @kloppinthekop My fave of their “Holiday Husbands” series. So cute and sweet and the love scene is sooooo (SOOO) hot and poignant !! Jamie taking care of Gary in every way on Valentine’s Day. Domestic feels.

Love You More by @effervescentdragon outstanding emotional excavation, Jamie POV Carraville. Uses a slightly disorienting (in a good way) jump around style that isn’t time stamped, but if you know your Carraville, you get your footing in a sentence or two. It’s a bookended journey between ‘fuck you too’ (visceral hatred) to ‘fuck you too’ (affectionate).

Gary Neville is Still a Red, Just a Different Shade by @fanficburner - your ultimate ABO Carraville! This isn’t for the faint-of-heart, angst abounds, I would not call this a romance! But a great character piece. Gary gets unwillingly bonded with Jamie, while still in love with Beckham. The standout part of this fic is the world-building and social implications of what an ABO society might actually look like; separate Omega changing rooms, registration offices for Omega registration, the harsh realities of an owned class of people.

#carraville #football rpf #fic recs #carraville fic recs

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sp00kymulderr · 11 days

Note

gideon!!!! congratulations on the milestone!!! absolutely so so deserved and i’m sorry I just now saw the post! 🖤

💭i’d like to request ''stay tonight.'' from the prompt list, maybe with ezra?? I miss him 🫶🏻

wonderful Liv! I'm so sorry this has been in my inbox since January. Me and Ezra were having a moment, but things are all good now. I humbly offer you this:

Starlit

sex worker!Ezra x afab!reader

694 words

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI. sex work, oral (reader receiving)

He is always the first thing on your mind when you arrive here.

The beautiful silver-tongued man with starlight in his eyes. Known by many and more than once by you, memories of him seared both on your flesh and in your mind.

Standards of travel have left you wanting, needing. Your fingers never work you the way another can, your touch never grips the way a lover can. Worst of all, the remembered whisper of his voice in your ear leaves you without the comfort of his warmth and sincere affection.

Ezra advertises his services as comfort. He sells sex, yes, but moreso he sells a few needed hours of companionship to the weary traveller, the tired prospector, the anguished fringeling far from home. He is generous with what he gives, not just in passion but in succour, in the intimacy of his whispered weaving stories as he holds you - he offers a piece of himself. Ezra provides comfort, and pleasure, and it is always more than worth the cost.

He is like an artist, you think. His art is being able to relieve the tired ache of your bones, and leaving your soul a modicum lighter than it felt upon arrival here.

There’s a stream of sunlight warming the bed as Ezra works between your thighs today. Your fingers hold in his soft hair with a gentle tug as he works what you can only describe as magic, that silver tongue finding it's way towards your second release of the day.

Your breath comes shallow; the way he flattens his tongue against you and stretches you on his fingers at the same time makes your legs shake in assailing delectation. He is a god, divinity in pleasure, and you thank you star that you came to find him on this miserable planet again.

You are, of course, just one of many but you like to think he doesn't look at the others the way he does you, the way his sparkling eyes meet yours as you look down upon him now, as he eats you like a blessed repast.

Your back arches, a gripping feeling of closeness tightening your core. His fingers curl, his plush lips sucks until you cry out and pull again. The room is hot and your bodies are warm, sticky. His own hips rut against the mattress as yours rise in increasing desperation. This gift of his, it takes you over. You are stardust as your body trembles, heart pumping wildly. The sweetness of release finally lays itself upon you. Oh. He is a god. Some spirit of heavenly pleasure.

You wish he could be yours forever.

You whimper his name over and over as you come down from a high unlike any other.

"Ezra...Ezra...my Ezra"

He kisses your twitching clit a few times more, never quite ready to give up your taste – he had told you before that he doesn’t do this only for the money but also for his own desires.

Finally he rises to lay over you, his body heavy and hot on yours, the hardness of him grinding against your soaked centre as he eyes you curiously.

"Yours?" He whispers, a devilish smile on his lips that makes you quiver again lustfully.

"Yes, mine...tonight?" You whisper, thankful that he understands it when you words are staccato and flustered.

You've never had him stay for more than a few hours. Never been so lavish with hard earned credits, but money feels no object right now as your cunt flutters and pulses at the thought of a full night with him. To wake up beside him is an experience worth all the money in the universe, you imagine.

Your fingers play in the white-blonde patch of hair. Curious, like him. You know little of this man and yet you want him in your bed for as long as you can possibly keep him.

He is a symphony of raucous desire.

“Stay tonight” You murmur, pulling him in to a searing kiss as soon he nods his agreement.

You know so little of him, but what you do know if that one night with this starlit man - even though it makes you poorer - will make you richer in heart and soul.

#ezra prospect x reader #sp00ky follower celebration #💭

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

Text

Do You Love Me? (Aemond x Aegon x Reader)

I know I said I would change a few things but I changed a fair amount so I really do hope this is worth it

There were a lot of mistakes Alicent has made in the past, countless one might say, the biggest one was unleashing a lion from its cage, a lioness at that.

“Let it be known that (y/n) of house Lannister and Aegon of house Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul, cursed be to those who would seek to tear the apart”

As the cloak went over her shoulders (y/n) had ensured her future, the realms lioness had stepped foot in the red keep and she already had her eyes set on the throne, circling around it like a predator would do on its prey.

Aegon was a delight, a man that is easily satisfied and with a taste for all the things that brought pleasure to him, (y/n) did not mind it one bit in fact it made their wedlock feel like a breeze, as well as it ensured their image of a perfect match to the eyes of the small court and the whole of 7 kingdoms, the doting wife and the passionate husband that could not get enough of each other.

Aegon was a dragon still he did not posses the fire of a Targaryen, there was no craving for something bigger, he was born into a world that fed him with a silver spoon he has gotten comfortable and did not consider of anything bigger than what he already had, on the other hand Aemond lurked in the shadows waiting patiently for his moment, (y/n) saw an opportunity in the one eyed prince, an equal player that could assist her in winning.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Princess (y/n), no not at all”

Aemond would occupy the library for most of his day, he was a man that worked with a routine, break his fast, sword practise, flying with Vhagar, read at the library, have supper, fly with Vhagar again or spend time with his mother and sister before he excused himself to rest in his chamber.

(Y/n) waltzed in with her eyes scanning the prince that had gone back into focusing on his book, (y/n) sat on the chair directly in front of him, crossing her legs slowly, it was subtle however (y/n) picked up on Aemonds little glance at her leg that barely escaped from her dress.

“May I ask what is the prince reading?”

“The adventures of princess Nymeria”

“The dornish warrior? Interesting choice for a Targaryen”

“We have to give credit when credit is due, she established herself and her name lives on”

“Is that something you aspire to achieve?”

“Of course, I assume you share that ambition”

“How so?”

“I might be a noble man but I am not dim witted princess, you want something from me”

Silence took over the room with the only sound reaching their ears being the cracks of the wood that burned in the fireplace.

A small smirk appeared at Aemonds lips as he finally lifted his eyes to meet (y/n)s hues, she could not tell if it was the flames that licked his astonishing lavender eye or the sparkle of the challenge that made her heart skip a beat. (Y/n) leaned in to rest her chest against her hands that had intertwined in her lap all while biting her bottom lip.

“Mayhaps, I am a fair person prince Aemond it would not be without a reward”

“And what would that be?”

“Everything”

“Does my brother know you are here?”

“No”

“Excellent”

To have a Targaryen prince as a husband was a blessing, to have a Targaryen prince as a lover and a confidant was heavenly, (y/n) moved the pawns in her chessboard as she saw fit while Aemond did her dirty work.

“My dear husband, this is an important day for you why are you frowning?”

“My father never wanted this, he never wished for me to be king, for twenty years he upheld Rhaenyras claim”

“He told your mother-“

“Do you truly believe that king Viserys decided to name his heir while on his deathbed? He never liked me (y/n)”

(Y/n) could comprehend why was Aegon acting like this while they were on the carriage, she had witnessed first hand the dismissive behaviour of king Viserys when it came to Aegon and his siblings, the only time she saw the king smile was when she gave birth to their first born Vaegor, she recalled how the frail old man held the babe for the first time as a grin appeared on his deformed face that half of it was concealed by a golden mask.

“A lovely prince, savour this moment Aegon, before you even know it your son will grow taller than you and leave you wondering where did the time go”

Aegons face lit up at the light joke his father had said, (y/n) smiled as well but not to Aegon nor the king, she grinned while for the lightest moment she glimpses to Aemond, the prince stood to the back allowing the others their moment with the new born babe.

The timeline was quite blurry yet (y/n) was certain she had bared Aemonds son, a cold night at the dragon pit that (y/n) had gone to search for Aemond after an argument that had disturbed their affair, Vaegor was the result of that night.

(Y/n) pursed her lips before she rose from her seat to move and get comfortable on her husbands lap, as the carriage was in motion Aegon stretched his hands to help her take a seat, she had given birth to their 3 child not too long ago yet she manage to fit the gown he had gifted her at their wedding day.

“It does not matter what he thought, your father is dead and now you will inherit what you deserve, in a few moments this beautiful head will have a crown and the truth will be what you make it”

“Do you love me?”

(Y/n) did not respond instantly like she usually does, Aegon was casted aside by his family from a very young age even though they held him to a standard that was extremely toxic, to fight against his own sister. (Y/n) leaned closer to his ear slowly as her arm that was wrapped around his shoulders went up to his hair to caress his silver locks.

“Till the end of my days, remember?”

(Y/n) did not lie to him, she loved Aegon he had been good and gentle with her, that being said Aegon was not meant to be king, he would rather spend his days guzzling wine and dancing to music or bedding his wife than attend small council meetings, start a war with Rhaenyra or go fight in a battle.

No that was (y/n)s wish, actually it was everyone else’s wish but his. When the war began that remained in history as “the dance of dragons” after Aegon was crowned (y/n) could finally reveal the person behind the doll like mask, a vicious beast that stopped at nothing, she was the whisper in Aegons and Aemonds ear, moving them like muppets to do whatever she advised them to do so. Rhaenyra got the nickname “Maegor with tits”, Aegon was called “Aegon the usurper” and Aemond was “the kinslayer”, what a tragic day that was when Aemond came back he immediately summoned (y/n)

“What did you do?”

“(Y/n) I swear I did not mean for it to happen, I lost control of Vhagar”

“Vhagar is a war dragon that invaded Dorne it was only natural for her to go for the kill yet you still wanted to torment Lucerys you are a fool”

She was furious, one thing (y/n) counted on was Aemonds restrain, his grudge against the strong boys ran deeper and now he had exposed them to bloodshed.

“We take my children-“

“Our children”

“My children! I almost died for them”

“And I killed for them”

“You killed that boy for yourself do not blame my sons and daughter for your mishaps”

Aemond and Aegon separately thought all three children were from them, (y/n) being the woman that carried them would say it was more complicated than that, her two boy Vaegor and Aelor were Aemonds, her daughter Daenera was Aegons.

Aemond loved all three of the children, he feared for their life the most when the war started and now he was shaking at the idea that he would be responsible for putting them in danger. He could see (y/n)s eyes go from one side to the other with quick speed as she raced in her mind to find a way to fix this.

“You will take Vaegor and Aelor to Essos, Aegon will take Daenera to Dorne, the Martells will not disagree at giving shelter to a babe”

The war had taken countless lives, only a handful of the Targaryen line survived, Aegon was severely wounded and in excruciating pain on a daily bases, (y/n) felt her heart ache at the side of his once handsome face suffer the fate of his father, deformed and frail.

“Will there be pain?”

“No my love, I made sure of it”

(Y/n) assured him as she carefully placed her arms around him so Aegon can sit up, it was a few hours past supper and the only light was coming front their candles.

Aegon faintly smiled before he hissed from the pain striking him with any type of movement, as he settled (y/n) reached over for the goblet that sat on the stand next to their shared bed and passed it to Aegon.

“I believe it is the first time that I give you wine and you hesitate to down it”

“At least I’ll leave doing one of my favourite things”

“One?”

“Yes, the other is playing with our children, please (y/n) I beg you, tell them I died in battle, tell them their father sacrificed his life protecting them”

“I will, do not dwell over that I will make sure they know how much you loved them”

“Good, good… well, I raise my cup to the new king, Aemond the one eyed prince”

(Y/n) held Aegon until he let his last breath, dying peacefully and being free from the pain and worry. Tears streaming down her eyes as she could not help but feel responsible, “Aegon never wanted this” she kept repeating before she wiped her tears and pulled herself together.

As the first rays of sunlight started to appear (y/n) walked out of her chamber and went over to Aemonds, she did not bother with knocking the prince would already be up by now especially at a day like this.

“Is it done sweetling?”

“Yes, the throne is yours”

Aemond rushed to hug the queen as she responded with her arms wide open as well, she had achieved what she wanted, Aemond inheriting the throne and her kids being next in line, she was queen and then she would be queen mother, still the tittle “dowager queen” fell heavy in her heart.

“We have duties to attend to, first things first I will ride to Essos for our boys and then to Dorne for our princess, the war is over it is time for our kids to come back”

“You are king now Aemond, you are in need of a wife”

Aemond broke off his rumble at (y/n)s proclaim, her misty eyes confused him even further, they had sacrificed everything for this why was she crying? Aemond let his hands rest on her biceps as he struggled to find the reason behind her meek demeanour.

“You are afraid, I’ve never seen you afraid”

“Aegon is dead, I am the dowager queen, you sit on the iron throne now and I am… what am I Aemond?”

The realm would not allow a king without a queen, when the announcement of Aegons passing will happen and his wish for Aemond to succeed him until Vaegor comes off age the small court will push for Aemond to be wed, uncertainty sunk in her veins and froze her blood at the idea of doing all of this for nothing.

Aemond lifted her chin with his finger moving his hand to not rest there but to go up and brush her cheek lightly as a sign of affection, Aemond adored (y/n), he loved her more than she ever would, she would never admit it yet to Aemond it was obvious that he was second best in her heart, Aegon had been her husband, she did not grace his life until after Aegon had already gotten a bite, a prince of the Targaryen like could have any princess or lady he wanted, the Gods were humorous to torment him with falling for a woman that loved him but did not love him enough.

“I am king until our son comes off age, Aegons wish is for me to succeed him, I will wed you when the moon turns and call it an act of kindness to the Lannister clan for your houses loyalty and to ensure the future of the late kings successor, I would never leave you in the dust dearest”

“We show mercy to Rhaenyras children, we will send for them and keep them in the red keep, the sea snake will decide who will be his successor my guess is Baela”

“I offer you a wedlock and your reaction is to discuss the inheritance of driftmark, is that how little you think of me?”

Her shoulders sunk at the bitter question, she sympathised with him to an extend of course, his jaw tightened when (y/n) pulled away to march at the window of his chamber, it truly seemed like (y/n) genuinely turned her back to him.

Aemond could detect her shoulders move from taking a deep breath, (y/n) faced him once again when she regained her composure her eyes were cold and her lips pursed together tightly.

“I have given you everything, I am called kinslayer and cruel on the streets, I did everything you asked me to”

“And I sacrificed everything, trust me Aemond I know the blood is on my hands, at least I own up to my crimes, you can scurry away and blame me we both know I did not force you to do anything, you wanted the throne for yourself, you used me and I used you”

(Y/n) held strong feelings for Aemond, they had shared such intimate moments and their ambition for greatness was the key to their affair, he was a good man and would be a great ruler, as the time went by she would have to be blind to not pick up on the hatred his eyes held when she walked with Aegon or when he was forced to watch Aegon play with his sons and call him father, his days were filled with agony, he loved his brother but he always got what Aemond thought he should own, his lover, his children, his throne, the bitter taste of being the second best no matter how hard he worked shattered him.

“We are bound for life Aemond, it is pointless to point fingers”

“I love you (y/n), I killed for you”

“You killed for your own ambition”

“I did it for you! For our love! For our children that will never call me father! I am not pointing fingers I am pleading the mother of my children to tell me she loves me, so… do you love me?”

Requests are open!

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