#but it's like. a monster that disgusts you and yet you feel sorry for him

[lord-squiggletits]

I think one of the most deeply fascinating things about Tarn is that as a character, as he victimizes others and is victimized, he's the embodiment of how a person can be both a monster and pathetic at the same time, like...... You look at how he ruined Pharma's life, tortured him and blackmailed him into becoming a mad shell of his former life; you look at his fanaticism and the brutal nature of his job as a professional murderer and torture, things like Grindcore. And then you look at his relationship with Megatron, how Megatron is Tarn's entire world, he almost kills himself when Megatron defects, literally WHO TARN IS exists because of Megatron.

Using Pharma and Megatron as two opposite character relationships Tarn has, it's as if he's a participant in some fucked-up cycle of violence. He victimizes, brutalizes, uses Pharma for what he can provide for him but otherwise never even thinks or cares about him. Simultaneously, Megatron also created Tarn as his puppet and slave-dog, except he never actually cared about Tarn and pretty much just groomed him to be a servant purely to make a point/hurt someone else. So Tarn existing as The Monster wasn't even some sort of momentous occasion or act of great significance; he was a means to an end to Megatron, he was nothing, he was just a pawn in a game of pettiness Megatron was playing with Optimus and the whole war. So too did Tarn use and abuse Pharma and then not give a single shit about him or what happened to him afterwards.

And it creates this fascinating portrait that I can only describe almost as, Tarn is a small man and it's only when standing in a bright light that his shadow casts long and terrifying. It's like you look at him and you see that the person who's simultaneously a monster to most is a literal nobody to the person who made him who he is (Megatron). And when you look at Tarn, it makes you contend with these completely opposing emotions of terror/fear versus pity and disgust. There's something in there, I think, about how violence is inherently corrosive both to the victim and also to the perpetrator. There's something in there about how some of the most vicious bullies are also the most sad and hollow inside without any real meaning besides victimizing other people.

Tarn makes me feel really interesting things and it's. He's just interesting.

#squiggposting #sorry it's rambly i'm about to go to bed #it's just that tarn fascinates him. i find him more pitiable than anything #but it's like. a monster that disgusts you and yet you feel sorry for him #like idk in my head i simultaneously see tarn as a victim of brainwashing #but also as just like the most fucked up pitiful guy ever #a lot of things he did were his fault and his actions. but how did he get there? #and it's crazy to me when one person can be simultaneously so fearsome on the outside yet so small on the inside

[emmyrosee]

tw// cursing, yelling, long stints of fighting, Kiyoomi is a little toxic, blood, patching up injuries, broken noses, ANGST- please be safe friends ❤️

I talk a lot about Kiyoomi being an amazing sport about your clinginess, your closeness, and your affections, right?

But what about when he's not?

What happens when the one day you try to crawl into his skin, spilling your head over his shoulder and squeezing him tightly, peppering kisses over the side of his face and jawline, and when he asks you to please stop, you don’t.

“You’re just too yummy,” you say happily. You bite his ear, “this is your tax.”

He shrugs you off sharply, “I’m not paying the tax today.”

You stumble back slightly, regaining your footing and taking a step back from him. “I’m sorry… bad day?”

Bad day. Yeah. It was. He can’t fathom how bad today was, how every time he said anything, Miya was right in his ear simply talking, sending shivers of annoyance to course through kiyoomi’s veins. How Bokuto accidentally almost hit the ball straight to his face, his own intensity almost causing Kiyoomi the season. How meian benched him for being too intense, too much and needing to ‘cool off’ with every spike and scowl kiyoomi flails to the other side of the court. How the threats of sending him home for his attitude started, causing Kiyoomi to shut his mouth but white knuckle the rest of the day.

But kiyoomi doesn’t answer that like a normal person.

That would be too easy.

“Maybe I just don’t want you dangling off of me the second I walk in the door.”

His mind screams at him to shut up, but he can’t.

You take a deep breath in, “I didn’t know, I’m sorry. Usually you… you don’t mind-“

“Well maybe I should start minding.”

Shut up.

Your eyes hold betrayal as he spews his venomous words, your chest rising and falling as he balls his fists to try and ground himself.

“I’m sorry. I’ll think more about your feelings when I try to cuddle you.”

“What you do is not cuddling-“ the balled fist slams against the countertop. “It’s clinging. It’s suffocating. It’s ridiculous, and it’s obnoxious-“

“‘Yoomi-“

“And for the love of all that is fucking malevolent would you PLEASE STOP CALLING ME THAT!” He roars. “I gotta deal with it from FUCKING MIYA, now I have to deal with it at HOME FROM YOU?”

You don’t know why you do it. But you flinch.

He’s so loud, so in your face and so mean that it happens without you even knowing you did it, the only indication being that his face instantly drops and pales at the mere idea of you being so afraid of him you flinch.

He says nothing. He can’t. What could he say?

He quickly makes a dash to the door, grabbing the keys dangling from the hook and leaving right then and there, bile rising in his throat and chest swelling with disgust as your terrified face plays over and over, like a movie he can’t turn off because he’s the one who put it on.

He runs. He runs fast and far, down the street and over hills and across crosswalks that don’t permit him from crossing yet, trying to create distance between himself and the monster he was god knows how long ago.

He finds himself- somehow- at work, the bright lights of the arena snapping him back to reality that you’ve been alone for who knows how long, but at least long enough where he’s back at his physical job. On foot.

The gods give him the smallest semblance of mercy as Miya and Hinata are still together, setting and spiking away until their hands grow calloused, cheering with each successive spike sent hurdling to the floor.

Hinata notices the panting Kiyoomi first, his head cocking in concern. “Hey… thought you didn’t want to train with us?”

“You.” Kiyoomi’s dark eyes fall onto Miya, and without even processing the fact that he shouldn’t be doing this, he makes a blind dash at the blonde, who then instinctively runs the other way.

Hinata instinctively darts out of the way, “woah! What! Miya what’s going on!”

“I didn’t do anything!” The blonde whines. “Not this time! I swear!” Hinata scrambles into action, chasing after Kiyoomi who’s on another runners high as he chases his teammate around the linoleum floors of the volleyball court but is still no match for Hinata’s own speed.

Great for Miya Atsumu. Terrible for sakusa Kiyoomi.

Bulky arms wrap around Kiyoomi’s waist and immediately weights around him, slowing him down from skinning Miya alive, “no, sakusa! Enough!”

“I’ll kill him!” He barks at whoever will listen to his threat. “I’LL KILL YOU!” He points a finger at the blonde.

And Hinata’s not proud of it. Honest! But it’s what he had to do to stop his friends from mauling each other, and he trips Kiyoomi flat onto his face, a sickening crunch! under the squishing cartilage of nose and skull slamming into the floor. He lays there in defeat, panting softly into the floor and crying even quieter as his two teammates surround him.

He needed to cry. That’s it. Now that he’s crying, his salty tears mixing with the blood dribbling from his nose and the gash in his head, he feels better, he feels lighter and like he’s finally getting to express every fractal of emotion that surged through his veins all day in what is finally a healthy way.

It only cost you being uncomfortable around him.

He safely decides it’s not worth it.

“Sakusa,” Hinata begins. “What happened?”

“I was cruel,” he says, now wailing into the floor. “They flinched at me. I ruined everything. Again.”

He can’t tell from looking, but he practically feels the weight of understanding fall onto his teammates, a soft ‘ahhh,’ falling from Miya’s lips. He hears the squeak of shoes next to his head, and when his bloody face turns upward to see Miya Atsumu’s calm, non-judgmental features, he cries even harder, his tears mingling with blood as they fall to the floor.

“Go home, Kiyoomi.”

“I can’t. I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, you should,” Hinata interjects. “You need to be there. I don’t know what happened, or what Atsumu did to piss you off, but I know you want to sort this out.”

“I ran here,” Kiyoomi sniffles. His hand instinctively comes to wipe his nose, the taste of blood filling his throat once he’s finally able to see just the sheer amount he’s bleeding.

“YOU RAN HERE?!”

“I had to. I had to go somewhere.”

“I’ll take him home,” Miya sighs, calmly stepping away for a moment to grab his keys and bag. Hinata claps a large, comforting hand on Kiyoomi’s back, his own feet stepping away as Kiyoomi childishly stays on the floor, blood trickling onto his lips and down his chin. He’s gonna have a gash in his head for sure, maybe even a black eye, and he hopes you’re open to taking him to the hospital to get it clean.

The car ride back home is silent, save for the occasional sniffles coming from Kiyoomi and his pinched nose, stuffed with bloody toilet paper. Miya keeps his car surprisingly clean, it smells like pine and citrus and it cuts through the tension and pounding in kiyoomis head from the smell. He doesn’t know when, but Kiyoomi mumbles a soft “I’m sorry” at some point.

Miya chuckles, “you’re having a bad day. We all get those. You ain’t special.” It makes Kiyoomi chuckle softly, for the first time in what feels like days. When the car rolls up to your shared house, kiyoomi shakily gets out of the car, slamming the door closed and leaving Miya to drive off.

“Kiyoomi?”

“What?”

“You come at me like that again, I’ll give you another black eye.”

Kiyoomi chuckles and shakes his head at the blonde, “you’d never even get a shot in.” He rolls his shoulders, sniffles back a little bit more blood, and makes his way inside, shaky hands opening the door and stalking in like a zombie.

When he comes into your view, you’re quick to get on your feet, getting up to fuss over him.

“Fucks sake,” you gasp, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the dried blood over his face. “You leave for two hours and come back beaten up?”

“I fell.” Not really a lie.

“Yeah, don’t care,” you snap, grabbing his wrist and tugging him to the bathroom. “Let me clean you up. Is your nose broken?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

You groan and gently grab the bridge of his nose, and he whines and reels his head back petulantly out of pain. “Ow.”

“Yeah. Go to the doctors, Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi.

Shit.

“Please come with me?”

He sees you tense up as you grab a wet towel, pausing your movements and taking in a deep breath to calm down, “yeah. Yeah I’ll go.”

“Hold my hand when I’m scared?” He tries to joke.

You don’t laugh. You don’t say anything. You dab the blood from his lips and chin, careful of his nose and the bruising around his eye. “I don’t know where you fell but you’ve got a black eye blooming.”

He tucks his swollen lip into his teeth nervously, “I ran to Miya.”

“Osamu?”

“No. Atsumu.”

Your hand pauses again, “did he hit you?”

“No. He’d never.” Even if he did deserve a smack coming to him.

You roll your eyes and escort him out of the bathroom, “come on. I’ll drive.”

The drive to the hospital is silent.

The waiting room is silent between you both.

Sitting in the doctor’s office is silent, save for the crunching of his nose as his doctor recenters his nose and he whines in pain. You do squeeze his hand through the pain, even if he doesn’t deserve your kindness.

The ride home is silent.

Your walk to your bedroom is silent, and as Kiyoomi sets up a bed on the couch is silent.

The next few days are silent. Kiyoomi can’t play due to his nose, leaving him to merely watch on the sides with a protective splint covering the bone. At home, it’s no better, with you dodging his kisses and affections with no indications you’ll ever want them again.

He wonders, briefly, if this is it. You realize you’re too good for him, worth more than a man who plays volleyball and screams at people, you deserve the stars and moon and you’re not getting it from him.

Between losing you and volleyball, he hopes its punishment enough

He can’t take it anymore. He’s lost the two loves of his life in the span of four hours, over a stupid mistake he made his bed with.

It’s been four days; you haven’t said six words to him, and he doesn’t even bother trying to get affection from you, he knows better than that. But he’s yearning for you, and while he’d never force anything onto you, he just wants to know:

Is there anything worth salvaging? Or is it just an exhaustive task, one he already knows the answer to, and you’re just too kind to tell him in person?

He needs to find out.

“Smells good in here,” he says quietly, looking at you with optimistic eyes. You give him a shrug back and continue to dress the warm bread with garlic and butter. “What’re you making?”

“I… I uhm saw a thing online on how to make bread shaped like a frog,” you say, turning back to it quietly. “Thought it would be fun.”

“It’s cute.”

“Thanks.”

The room is quiet, and when Kiyoomi hesitantly leans in for a kiss, you turn away, not ready for his affections yet.

Maybe ever again.

“I would like to kiss you,” he says, pleadingly.

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

“That’s okay. Can I… can I hug you?”

At the idea of being trapped in his arms, you shake your head, pushing him away and trying to make some distance. He obeys, but as you continue to shove him, he suddenly tries to intervene

“Please, stop,” he chokes, grabbing your hands to still you.

“Stop what?” You ask, even though you know the answer. Your hands do stop shoving him, but you avoid his gaze intently.

He sighs shakily, “I love you. I love you and every part of you. I love when you try to get inside of my skin and take my socks off with your toes. I like when you pick my nose and tickle me because I hate it, I like it when you sniff me, please just love me again.

I was so agitated that day, and that wasn’t your fault, and now I’ve ruined us because I was cruel. But please,” he collapses to his knees and wraps his arms around your legs, “just love me again. You’re safe, and it’s okay. Please.”

You don’t return his emotion, having been hurt by showing it before has made the feeling sour. “Kiyoomi-“

“It’s ‘yoomi. What happened to yoomi, why won’t you call me that anymore?”

“You screamed it out of my vocabulary, in case you forgot,” you snap. He squeezes your legs tighter like a child. “You don’t get to keep doing this. You don’t get to decide one day to snap or tell me know about something I’m doing, then a few days later tell me you miss doing it. For fucks sake, I flinched!” He starts to tremble against your legs. “And now you tell me you want to go back to how it was! You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll try my hardest to be better for you. A better man. A better boyfriend.”

“There’s almost no way for you to be worse.”

This time, he lets you go and stands up. His eyes are swollen with tears, the dark irises even deeper from the reddening of his scleras. “So, what?” He begins, voice wobbly. “We’re just never going to show affection again? Be in loveless love? Is that my punishment?”

“It’s NOT THAT BLACK AND WHITE!” You yell, losing your composure for the first time that fight. Your hands come down to grip and smack the bread against the counter, ruining it and sending crumbs flying everywhere. You sigh and lazily throw it in the sink in defeat, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “You sincerely think I wouldnt love nothing more than to wrap MY arms around you, squish your cheeks in MY hands, crawl into YOUR lap and cuddle when you get home? You think I wanted to make bread shaped like a fucking frog for fun? NO! I’m doing it, because YOU told me YOU didn’t want me to DO THOSE THINGS!”

“I was wrong!” He yells back. “I’m sorry!”

“THAT DOESNT MEAN IT WAS STILL OKAY TO DO!”

The room is silent. Too silent. Theres a rattling of dishes that can be heard from your screams of agony, a cabinet creaks and somewhere away, the dryer dings to signal its contents to be done.

Kiyoomi takes a deep inhale in through his nose to keep himself grounded, and you watch with balled fists. “I want you to feel like you have space. You deserve that. But you also need to know you’re endgame for me. You’re the only one I want, the only one who makes me feel excited to wake up in the morning and slip into sleep at night. And if this is it for us, you need to know that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”

You give him a sad, shaky sigh.

“I made a mistake. I made you feel unsafe in your own home. You never deserved that, never deserved that level of cruelty. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” you murmur.

“Do you need me to stay with Bokuto for a few nights?”

“No.”

“Do you need me to sleep on the couch?”

“…no… I don’t think so.”

He tears up at the idea you’re not completely upset with him, enough to sleep next to him in the same house. “What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?” He chews at his swollen lip, “I want to help you be comfortable around me again. Please.”

You gnaw at your lip as you process his words, and with a small shake of your head, you slowly, almost so slowly he doesn’t see it, slink towards him, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. When his arms loosely slither around your waist, you tighten, but you don’t stop him.

It feels foreign, but so right at the same time. His swirling head is finally stilled. The demons stop their bark as you bury your face in his chest, sniffling softy in the fabric.

“Last time you left,” you begin. “You came home with a black eye from Miya. I’d hate to see what happens if you come home from Bokuto’s.”

“Okay, hold on, it was not from Miya.”

The change in tone has you laughing in his arms, and he tries to keep cool and not immediately pull you into a spine crushing hug that’ll spook you away from him again. He can’t help himself though, from rubbing his face against you and taking inhales of your scent, the shrieking and howling in his mind finally going quiet at the contact of you.

“Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever talk to me like that again, I’ll give you another black eye.”

He chuckles and does, finally, squeeze you tighter, “I don’t blame you for a second.”

#WHEEEEEEEEEEEE #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi angst #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader angst #sakusa kiyoomi x reader fluff #sakusa kiyoomi imagine #sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu #sakusa #sakuss fluff #sakusa angst #sakusa x reader #sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa x reader angst #sakusa x gn!reader #sakusa imagine #sakusa haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x y/n #angst to comfort #angst to fluff

[bvnnywrites]

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 2: Überprüfen

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the very long wait. My body gave out on stress and I passed out the side of the road this Monday on my way home. Also, I was manic and I had an episode yesterday so yayeet. Also, I read all your comments in the last chapter and asvbhbvdvdhdhfhv I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH RAHHHHHH. Anyways, enjoy the chapter! UwU

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

THE ONLY INTERESTING THING TO DO AT KORTAC, if he wasn’t out and about in the field, was apparently dwelling in the thought of committing fraternization – and König chided himself that he was better than this.

But there’s nothing to worry about. Of course, he isn’t losing sleep overthinking the eager look on your face to get in his good graces—his approval and validation. No. he isn’t staying up late, seeing your adorable pouty lips and sweet-looking eyes glancing up at him because you’re too small whether you stood or sat. Especially, the softness of your flesh when he held your chin to make you look at him, or the warmth of your body when he soothed you from seeing those disgusting pictures.

König definitely does not want to know every detail of your life—what your flesh taste like pressed against his tongue, what it feels like as the tentacles on his face roam your body and leaving slick in its trail, what you like or hate, what blood type you have, how soft your hair is when he’s gripping it in his fingers while he’s shoving his cock deep in your little cunt, what your favorite position in bed is, what it feels like to have your pussy milking him desperately as he breeds you again and again until you’re pregnant with his children.

No.

No.

Who the hell was he kidding?

He’s is a fucking pervert—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

What he’s doing is fucking disgusting and he can’t believe that he’s thinking this way about you. God, König knows he’s a thousand shades of fucked up, but he did not expect to be like this. The colonel never expected he’d go this fucking low. He doesn’t want to be like he’s father—a disgusting fucker who was selfish and sick in the head—but he can’t help but fall straight down the rabbit hole and into the maws of the abyss of his own wicked desires.

König is a fucking disgusting creep because you’re so sweet, calm and understanding when he threw the first few layers of ugliness from his soul, dumping it on your lap, and you so graciously comforted him. He is disgusting because you’re literally twenty-three years younger than him, old enough to be his daughter, and yet your eagerness to obtain his approval has him losing his shit. You have him losing his morals. The softness of your skin has him wanting more, his teeth clenched with poorly contained desire, and yet he demands more – to be closer, to reach into the depths of your soul and twist it until you’re as fucked up as he is—craving him the way he craves you. You have him understanding why his father did what he did because now he thinks that maybe the sick fuck couldn’t control himself in the presence of his ‘Aphrodite’.

And you… you were König’s ‘Aphrodite’—the embodiment of his desires, both good and bad.

He is a fucking pervert because you were eager to help him in this manhunt for the so-called beast. Eager and desperate to advance in the ranks of the military – that’s all you were probably hoping, but instead of following the logical side, König had let himself be swayed by the waves of his depravity.

König was always proud of his self-control – his more human nature that he had inherited from his beloved mother. He never thought the day would come where these sickening thoughts would run in his mind. He was a monster, yes, but nature does have a way of being more predominant than nurture. At least, in this case. It didn’t even matter that his mother – who despised and loved him at the same time – had engrained the Lord’s teachings into his head or the holy scriptures that she would beat into his flesh.

All those teachings went to waste because at the end of the day, he was his father’s son.

He could see the disappointing and disgusted look on his mother’s face right now.

But all that washes away when his mind comforts him with the thoughts of you. The way your pretty eyes look up at him through long lashes, the way your voice addresses him has desire pumping in König’s veins. Because somehow, when it comes to you, he feels calm as he feels the need to lash out. He feels the need to bite and claw at you, marking you as his own little wife to love and to fuck. He wants to rip off his mask in front of you and make you braid his hair and weave flowers into it because you called him ‘beautiful’, wants to let one of his tentacles slither around your neck while he bites you and marks you as his. His little and eager to please mate—his beloved wife-to-be.

He can still see your pouty face, as if you’re there right in front of him. Your pretty wide eyes looking up at him—looking at him as if he wasn’t a disgusting monster—like an actual breathing person. Your scent lingers in his nose for the past two days. You smelled delicious – divine, if he’s honest. You reeked of the shower gel that you use,  and that suffocating perfume—or is it a cologne?—that you’re using to make yourself fresh. Several thoughts ran in his head, wanting nothing more than to smother you in his scent. Rubbing his smell all over you, until every single being—doesn’t matter if mortal or not—would know that you’re his.

The thought itself had his cock twitching more than it did before. It’s throbbing hard, leaking precum all over his hand as he pumps it with his fist while the other grips the sheets. Judging from your smaller form against his, you’d definitely be fucking tight, which was why he was gripping it mercilessly. The pictures of pin-up girls had long been discarded. He doesn’t need those when he has your pretty face, adorable ass, and alluring scent engraved in his mind. He’s a fucking perverted old dog… and it was all because of you.

König wants to have you on his knees before him. Relieving him of his stress by wrapping your adorable lips around the head of his dick, soft tongue lapping at the precum he’s making as if you’re a goddess and the gushing liquid was ambrosia—the very thing you needed to live.

He wants to take care of you, cradle you in his arms and pepper your face with kisses and show you how much he can just provide for you—KorTac isn’t cheap in their payments, and he is one of their best mercenaries they have, not counting the huge mess he has made that his superiors are ordering him to clean up. He was too valuable for them to lose, so they’re just asking him to wipe away the evidence and pin the blame on some poor soldier who was there at the wrong place at the right time.

König wants nothing more than to hold you close. He can’t even think about letting you fall in the grasp of another man—whether they be as old as him or young as your age, whichever you prefer—because you are fragile as you are gullible. He can tell by the way your eyes glimmer at him or the kindness that blossoms on your face whenever you cater to the soldiers under your command, acting as if you’re a mother to them. He wants you to be his. His little, beloved wife. Waiting for him in the house he’d buy for you in Hallstatt or maybe he’d catch you walking along the shoreline of the lake while you’re telling stories of yours and his love story to his unborn child that grows in your womb.

By God König wanted you more than anything.

He’s thinking of putting you on your knees, preferably on his bed so it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable in the long run, so you can be comfortable while he shoves his cock down your throat. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, little whines and moans vibrating from you and on to his length and muffled from how strong his thrusts are inside your tight, wet, and warm mouth.

 Your face would be messy, mascara running down your cheeks, if you had any, and lip gloss smeared and staining his cock. And König would try to be gentle, so he wouldn’t end up breaking you, but it’d be impossible when you’re so eager to please him. You’d have trouble barking out orders and speaking normally, because he knows he’d wreck your throat by the time he’s done with you.

König is fantasizing about it—having you in such a state, making use of your delicate mouth and moving tongue.

But guilt flashes across his mind. No. No, he couldn’t do that to you. You’re a fragile little thing—not to mention a human. You’re like an adorable little mouse beneath him. Breaking you would break him too—hurting you would hurt him too.

He is a worthless monster, a disgusting being that should be shot dead for just thinking of you—his klein hase—like this. That woman who read his future was right. He was depraved. He’d ruin you…

But God have mercy on him because he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to back the fuck away from you.

Your name falling from his lips like a prayer, chanting your name as if you’d be able to save him from eternal damnation – and maybe you could, in your own human way. A primal and dark urge to have you in his full mercy, waiting for him to claim you. He… He just wants to be accepted by people, to be welcomed by his peers, but none of it matters now because he just wants to be accepted by you. He’s panting and groaning, pumping his dick several times, chasing that climax. He is shamelessly hard, cock angry as it's about to burst.

König feels dirty for this. He felt like a teenage boy who’s jerking off to his crush. And despite that, he’s imagining you sucking on his cock or having your forehead pressed against his, whispering how much you love him and how you can’t wait to be filled with his cock. He imagines your cum-drunk expression, eyes glazed as your head is muddled and filled with nothing but pleasure, and that makes him cum; thick ropes of white shooting out from the tip, while his cock pulsates as he pumps it continuously before gradually slowing to a halt.

He keeps cumming, more than he usually does. The white, thick liquid staining his abdomen, pants, and sheets. He moans, biting his lips in a poor attempt to conceal his pathetic whimpers. His release covering his hand—sticky and disgustingly warm. Bless KorTac for allowing him and other high-ranking superiors to have their own room, because he knows goddamn well that he won’t be able to commit such sinful acts in communal barracks.

Post-nut clarity hits him hard, almost the same way his mother would, and he’s shameful for what he had just done. The two of you barely know each other, only getting information about you out of your files, and yet he was infatuated with you the moment you arrived on KorTac that sunny day. And yet he fell in love completely in just a matter of two days after talking with you.

He wants to resent you for what you made him do. He wants to worship you and mark your body with his marks. He wants to be left alone—preferably in your arms while you stroke his hair and look at him lovingly because no one ever looked at him the same way you do.

“Mein Gott, Shatz. What are you doing to me, liebling?”

König pants, letting his head fall back into the pillow as he sighed. His muscles relaxed, so much that he feels like he’s going to be one with the mattress. He lays there for a bit in his own bodily fluids before he got up to clean himself and get changed, replacing the sheets with cleaner ones.

“Colonel, are you there?”

Your soft voice came to his ears, making him stop in his tracks. Was he delusional to the point that he’s imagining your voice? He’s losing it. He’s definitely losing it because no way in hell did you sought him out at—he glances at his clock and sees that it’s 24:58 on a Wednesday—this late in the night. König ignores the voice, opting to throw himself back into the bed, cuddling his pillows and imagining that it’s you.

“Colonel?” Your voice echoes, followed by a soft knock. “Sir? This is very important, I’m sorry.”

Oh. Oh. No, he’s not actually hearing things. You’re actually outside his door. König wore his mask, covering his ugliness because he didn’t want to scare a pretty little thing like you. It would be too soon for you to see his face. It’d be like putting a frog straight in boiling water instead of heating it up little by little.

He rushed to fix the cloth over his head, zipping and buttoning his pants. König almost tore the bolts of his door just to immediately see you, and when he swung the door open—almost ripping it off the hinges—he saw you standing there with several dossiers in your arms. Your pretty doe-like eyes, the ones he fantasized about as he came literally just seconds ago, looks up at him with a sheepish gaze. You smile apologetically up at him, neck craning to properly look at him. He sees the way your eyes glanced at his shirtless torso before flickering up to look at him.

Were you attracted to him the same way he is to you?

Did your cunt also drip at the thought of him, the same way his cock throbs at the mere thought of you? Did you also touch yourself when you were alone the past two days after you two spoke to one another? Did you also call out his name? Whimpering and panting as you flicked your clit and plunged your tiny fingers in your weeping pussy–

“Sorry to disturb you so late at night, I was ordered to give you these documents. Horangi said that I deliver these to you because it needs your immediate approval, sir.”

You say to him, spouting out your reasons and he can see that you’re doing so in hopes of not angering him because you think you’ve disturbed his sleep. How adorable. König keeps a note to himself to tell Horangi not to let you out this late at night; he doesn’t want you being suspected as the killer. Your cheeks are slightly red, and König finds red pretty on your face. So much so that he wants to just grab your squishy cheeks and pepper it with kisses. Maybe nibble on it affectionately.

“It’s alright. No worries. Come in, Schatz.”

He moves aside, letting you in. And, oh boy, you eagerly entered his chambers as you rushed to the desk in his room. You bend over to place the heavy papers on his table, and he has half a mind to bend you over the desk, tear off your clothes, and fuck you stupid until all you can do is mewl and whine on his cock. The fact that he was imagining you on your knees, choking on his cock or pumping it with your hands while you whispered sweet nothing to him five minutes ago didn’t help the colonel either.

“I’m really sorry. I know you’re probably sleeping–”

“I said it is fine, liebling. No need to lose your head over nothing, ja?”

He finds it endearing that he calms you, that his words weigh that much for you. Usually, he’s used to barking orders, establishing things with force. And yet, when he speaks to you softly, reassuring you, that it’s alright if you waltz into his room—into his heart, even—and take whatever you wanted is a nice change of pace. He’d give more to you on your way out, because he loves you. He wants to marry you. He wants to take you back with him to Austria. You’re beautiful in gear, but König knows you’d be more beautiful in maternity dresses.

But he is sane about you. Completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing wrong with his state of mind regarding you. Everyone loves strongly, ja?

“It’s late at night, and I don’t want you to end up as a corpse in the halls, liebling. Let me escort you to your quarters, ja?” He says softly, walking up to you as he effortlessly moves the paperwork that were practically heavy for you. “It would ease me to sleep, knowing you’re safe and sound in your bed.” König pats your head.

“I… um… are you sure, sir?” You look at him, confused as you tilt your head in confusion. “You must be tired for the day, and I’ve already taken up much of your time.”

He ignored your words of worry as he grabbed his hoodie and wore it, finally giving you an ounce of mercy because as much as he loves the way your eyes are drawn to his torso, he also doesn’t want to give you cardiac arrest just because he was being too much for you.

Now that you’re here in his room, alone with the colonel, your heart hums nervously. You pray that no soldier would see you walk out of his room at this hour. Because you don’t want to burden him with silly rumors when he’s drowning in paperwork, focusing on an investigation, and you don't want to add up to his plate.

“I want to protect you from harm, Schatz. With me around, I doubt the beast would hurt you.”

Lies. No, wait. It’s not all lies, so basically just half-truths. With König around, the thing that lurks in the halls of KorTac would never hurt you, if anything it would worship the ground you walk on. Ask him to give you a town for your dowry, and he would enslave every continent on Earth and lay it by your feet—because the thing in the dark is him, and he loves you, and he wants to give you the world.

“Okay. I mean… if that’s okay with you, sir.”

“König.”

“What?”

“Please, mein liebe. I would appreciate it if we drop the formalities. We are comrades, ja?”

“Alright… as I was saying, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you, König.”

“You’re not a burden. Not to me… not if it’s you, mein liebling.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion with the way he addressed you. It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel important. You don’t know German, and you kick yourself mentally because you wish you knew what he was calling you. For all you know, he’s calling you stupid affectionately. Because it took you weeks before you realize Izzy was calling you ‘stupid’ in the most affectionate way possible, so who’s to say the colonel is any different?

Before you can ask him what the words mean, he walks past you, opening the door for you. You walk out his room, thankful that no one’s there to see the two of you together.

You two walk down the halls, side by side. And poor little you.t you’re practically walking alongside the devil. The halls are empty, devoid of any soul. The trip to your room was quiet, no one is around, obviously. Soldiers were already asleep, and those who didn’t need to follow the curfew were chilling in their room or buried in neck-deep paperwork in their offices.

König wished he wasn’t the monster right now. He wished it was someone else, because he wants an opportunity for him to be a hero. To be a protector. To put up all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while you praise him for his strength and bravery. Maybe shower him with loving kisses, even. He wants something to try and kill him, just so he can show you that he can protect you from anything and anyone who would want to kill you, but then you stop in front of your room, making you turn and smile at him.

He loved your smile, the way your skin stretched and your adorable features twist just to give him a kind gesture

“Well. This is my stop.” You offer him a warm smile, unaware that it’s a currency that König could never afford yet you willingly give it to him for free. “Thank you… for looking out for me, König.”

“You’re a valuable soldier. It would be a shame if the thing lurking the base comes and kills you, Shatz—I want you safe.” He smiles at you beneath the mask, and the way his eyes crinkle is adorable and you know he’s smiling when they do that. “For as long as I’m able to, I’ll protect you, okay?”

His fingers gently held your chin, afraid that he’d break you at the slightest pressure. Your heart thumps in your chest. How could Roze or Izzy ever tell you to avoid him? He was practically a sweetheart. The colonel wanted you safe more than anything, isn’t that enough to warrant an inch of friendship from you?

Your eyes met his, those eyes that remind you of a storm at sea, are filled with nothing but warmth. It makes your breath hitch with how… oddly intimate it feels. You’re sure that if you weren’t a soldier, if the two of you met outside the forces, as civilians, without the medals and badges, you’re sure that he would’ve kissed you right then and there. It felt like your heart was about to explode – it’s too overwhelming.

So, you forced yourself to look away, stepping back and away from his grasps—from his touch. The absence of his touch makes your head clear without realizing it felt hazy in the first place. Such a strange effect that the colonel has on you.

König is displeased that you’ve put more distance between you two, but he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to make you worry, despite the adorable look on your face whenever you do look troubled. So, König opts to pat you on the head briefly.

“Sleep tight, Schatz. Don’t forget to lock your door, ja?”

“Alright, co–König. Good night.”

As you shut your doors, the monster outside stood there for a few more minutes before it walked away.

“Did something good happen today, colonel?”

“None of your concern, major.”

Horangi was as sharp as ever, deep voice rumbling in his chest which intimidated most people around him. He was also the only one in the ranks to be able to speak casually with his superior – even though all of KorTac members usually avoid the giant soldier since they don’t really want to risk being discharged because they can’t function properly anymore. Horangi was the closest thing König has to a friend – which is kind of sad since a former gambling addict was the only one who can tolerate his shit and can understand him, even with his hood permanently on.

But Horangi was right.

Something good did happened.

You happened.

“That new lieutenant.” König starts. “If you’re sending her out to deliver files, tell me so I can escort the klein hase to her destination,” the colonel orders him, “I do not wish for her to be hurt.”

He spent the night awake, drinking and shredding it in the gym, trying so hard to put your adorable face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, he hasn’t seen you running around base for the day because he’s too busy cooped up in his office and signing off the papers that you’ve given him hours ago, but the way your facial features would get distorted into something more adorable every single time he closed his eyes was highly concerning.

And he calms himself down in those wee hours the same way he did moments before you knocked on his door—jerking himself off until he felt nothing but self-hatred and the yearning of having your soft body pressed up against his.

“She’s a lieutenant, König.” Horangi snort. “You know I don’t recruit the weak.”

“She’s a woman,” König responds, “I’m not saying she’s weak, but most soldiers in base are men… I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”

“She can handle herself.”

“And what of the monster on the loose?”

“Why? Do you plan on eating her next?”

“… Perhaps.”

König thinks for a moment. It should be easier if he would have an official legal reason to keep you by his side. Have your desk literally in his office so he can always keep his eyes on you, make sure no one lays a finger on you. König chucks his delirious thoughts to the lack of sleep, his fingers held down the paper while he wrote with his pen, but he wished he was holding you down and fucking into your wet cunt instead. He had those things before – overthinking about the tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but understood that he can’t be with them—it could be his childhood crushes that he could never had thanks to his hideous appearance… and anxiety. It could be fantasizing about a pretty woman that caught his attention one day—imagining a life with them, multiple kids, and maybe a dog or two. König is aware that he has a problem , but not like… this; never dangerous.

The problem was that he knows he can have you.

Perhaps not in a traditional way. No. He can’t court you, that’s against the rules, and König wished nothing more that you were a civilian instead of a soldier. Because of your badge, he couldn’t be with you. He has half a mind to snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate because he knows you would never marry a monster like him, so abducting you was… reasonable. He can shower you with gifts in your captivity, decorating you with all the gold and jewel in the world while he’s fucking his child into you. He can have his men kidnap you, and yes, it is inhumane but you would be happy with him as his wife than a woman playing as a lieutenant. He would soothe your worries, fuck you every single hour with no rest until his cock rearranges your insides and impregnate you until he can convince you that he was the perfect mate for you, and then boom – happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you.

And it drives him crazy because he has never felt a strong urge to want  something so bad in his life. At this point, it’s not even a want. It’s a need. It’s hilarious how the two of you barely knew each other, but König was head over heels for you. He wants you by his side, whether you’re willing or not.

“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked.

“Not yet.” König answered.

That’s how he found himself sitting down at the mess hall, eating this food that was barely stimulating his senses. Horangi didn’t join him, said he had to attend a meeting with his soldiers since a complaint was given to him. It was good, actually. There was rice, three hamburger steak, gravy and mashed potatoes. They gave him a bigger serving simply because he was a giant man, it only made sense to give him enough sustenance to function. The food was delicious, but König didn’t really pay attention much to it.

Now that he has had a taste of you—you giving him kind words and smiling at him—König couldn’t get enough. You were like a drug. He want to pin you down, ravage you in bed, feel your walls clamp and spasm around his cock over and over again while you’re reduced to nothing but mewls with a cum-drunk expression the same way a drug addict heats heroin over a spoon before injecting it into their systems.

He needs you under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed with sweat and marked with his lips and teeth.

He needs you under him, creaming on his cock while he stretches out your cunt deliciously – taking him to the hilt like a good girl, cock forming a bulge on your abdomen. Juices dripping on to the sheets while he suckles on your nipple, his other hand groping your other tit.

He needs you under him–

“Colonel?”

König’s eyes snapped up and locked on to yours, and the concern scribbled on to them has his heart swooning over you once more. Your brows are turned upward with worry and you standing in front of the table he was sitting at, calling out to him has him wanting to put you on his lap and nuzzle against the crook of your neck. He smiles underneath the mask, seeing you again, blessing his eyes with your beauty.

“Ah, liebling. What brings you my way?”

“Roze is on a mission and Izzy is currently in a meeting, and every seat is taken. So, I was wondering if I can sit with you.”

“Of course, mein liebe. Your company is always welcome.”

You can sit on his lap.

You can sit on his face, ride him while he eats you out. Tongue lapping at your sweet juices as you cum on his face. God, he wants to spoil you. Cover you with kisses and embrace you because he loves you.

To König, you’re adorable when you eat. Your cheeks puffing a little like a chipmunk as you chew your food, before gulping some of your water. There’s a bit of mashed potato smeared by the side of your lips, and you don’t seem to notice. Before he can stop himself, his fingers had made contact with your skin, wiping away the stain. He sees you visibly froze, eyes widening so adorably.

“You had mashed potato on your face.” König chuckled, wiping the food off of his gloves with a tissue.

“O-oh…” You stutter, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I was hungry… I missed breakfast.”

Your cheeks turned red, flustered at his gentle gesture, and König eats that shit up. His mind keeping the moment in his head. His desires spilling over it like ink; tainting a shared innocent memory between you two. He stares at you for a solid minute, engraining your features into his memory—as if he hasn’t memorized your face at this point—and smiles softly beneath the mask. There are scars all over his body, including his face, and the tentacles on his face struggles not to reach out to you and feel your skin against it.

He wants you to know that he would do anything for you. How he’s willing to lay down his life for you. How he’s willing to protect you from anything because you’re all he ever wanted in his whole life. You would appreciate a man with scars, right? After all, it’s a sign of bravery.

König took part in many battles, too many to count with his tentacles and fingers and toes combined; spent his youth training to be the best killer possible. He took part in many conflicts and killed hundreds, maybe thousands even,  while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – maybe, except for talking to people sometimes. It’s not like he’s terrified of them, but rather afraid of making a fool of himself. König always hated talking to people, but being colonel meant he had to communicate to soldiers under his command and his superiors.

He isn’t afraid of anything. But… he is afraid of you finally seeing underneath the mask and thinking that you, in fact, find him revolting to look at.

The colonel takes one look good at you, and figures that maybe it’s worth the internal turmoil if it meant that he would have you by his side. He would agree to get as many ranks as possible if that meant he could provide for you and have you quit your job as a soldier. If that would allow him to come home to every day and night instead of sleeping alone in his room.

“I suppose you enjoy your breakfast, liebling?” König chuckled, and your face just goes even more red.

“It’s delicious,” You answered, smiling sheepishly.

He loves it when you smile. Obsessed with it—the way your eyes twinkle with delight whenever you cast your gaze at him without a hint of disgust.

“Would you like to get coffee someday?” König offered. “I know a café that has really good coffee or if you prefer non-caffeinated drinks, they also have milkshakes and their desserts are pretty good.”

 And you with those pretty doe-eyes of yours say, “Sure! Set the time and date, colonel.”

Other soldiers are looking. They’re glancing at you and him, but you don’t seem to notice the stares or the fact that it had gone slightly quiet. He is a creep, weirdo and all the words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones these past few days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are smiling at him with such unbridled admiration was driving him mad.

“How about this Thursday, ja?” König inquired, wanting to hear your opinion on the matter.

You think for a moment, brows furrowed and König finds it really endearing. Izzy said she’d take you to a café but she wasn’t really sure yet since she says it might be the day Horangi and her go on missions. Roze wouldn’t be back until Sunday, and you’re left alone with nothing on base.

Well… there is König.

“Sure! I’m free this Thursday.” You say to the colonel, brimming with excitement at your newfound friendship.

The monster is pleased. It seems you’ve checked out all the boxes he’s looking for in a mate.

Tags: @itsbellaham,leslie-lemon,tapioca-marzipan,starcrossed02,manjiroxs,mr-sol,euuuuuuun,sleepyoriana,urmom-77,marriedtoeddie,sylviatherosairy,breannab2018,asmicity-writes,slutforelliewilliamss,3-kai-3,notsamaira,kenz-ee

P.S. Idk how to tag or if I did it right^^

#könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig smut #könig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig smut #call of duty smut #cod fanfic #cod smut #call of duty x reader #bvnnywrites #konig cod #konig x y/n #konig modern warfare #konig headcanons #cod x reader #konig x reader smut #cod mwf2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii smut #konig cod smut #konig imagine #konig x you #konig x female reader #konig x fem! reader #monster!könig #monster!könig x reader #monster!konig

[dahliamalfoy97]

FEAST - Upper Moons, Muzan x Y/N reader

MuzanxKokushiboxDoumaxReader

Synopsis: Muzan calls for a meeting with the 3 Upper Moons and his wife is just s little greedy and Muzan decides to share her.

Warning: SMUT 18+ explicit content, slight dub con, group sex, rough sex, threesomes, choking, slapping, spanking, degradation kink, praise kink, slight blood kink, masochism, voyeurism? Monster kink, size kink, oral sex, mentions of kidnapping, murder,violence. So much going on in this.

A/N: first time writing a big group sex thing so it’s probably a bit cringey at times and it’s not edited so there’s probably lots of errors. I am such a simp for these four and have been trying to put them together the best I could. Anyways, hope you enjoy and don’t say I didn’t warn ya 😏

Word count: 7,102

"Y/N," Master Muzan calls from the dining hall, "please bring some of that wine out here."

You hurriedly, grab the bottle and a glass from the cabinet and rush out to the dining room. You freeze for a moment when you arrive. Noticing the Master isn't alone- there's 2 Upper Moon demons siting at the table, your master at the center while one of them sits at his left and the other at his right.

Moonstruck, you cautiously, approach the table, taking in all  the guests in a mixture of awe and fear. These two were the real deal. demons after Muzan himself. They were all sitting in one room and you feel the powerful aura that emanated from each of them.

"I'm so sorry, Master, " you stutter, "I didn't realize we had guests, or I would have gotten more glasses."

"It's alright, little dove," Those crimson eyes meet your nervous ones, searing into your soul as usual, making you feel all sorts of flustered.

Master Muzan was the King of Demons. The one that commanded them all to do his bidding. He held the most power. He was also the Devil incarnate because he was able to create demons and to become more powerful he fed on humans. He had an unrivaled bloodlust and was cold to everyone around him. He was cunning, vicious and evil. To everyone but you.

You had been just a human girl, on the brink of starvation when he took you in. He originally was going to fatten you up to kill you, but he ended up finding comfort in your presence and ended up falling for you instead. Because most humans would have been disgusted and terrified of him. But you were willing to do anything to please him. Most demons like him - emotions capable of emotions like love. But you had made him feel much more powerful than his demon army could.

Naturally, you too had fallen in love with the Devil who had saved you. Call it Stockholm Syndrome if you will- but you willingly stayed after learning what he really was. After seeing the blood he shed and the lives he destroyed. You fell in love with the monster anyways.

"Well isn't she a delight?" One of the upper moons cooes, he was ethereal. Like an demon in angel's clothing. This was the vibe the demon gave. He had friendly and inviting smile on his face, but something in those rainbow irises told you it was probably just a mask of the true intent that hid underneath. The one that was full of malice and all things evil. He made you shiver at how someone demonic could look so heavenly. He had pale porcelain skin, and long locks of silvery blonde hair, that swept in all kinds of different directions.

"This is my wife, Y/N," Your Master, replies. "Little dove, this is Douma, he's Upper Rank 2."

You bow your head in respect, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

"my my and she knows her manners too," he kisses your hand with his lips, his touch cold yet shivers automatically shoot down your spine. Something about this demon intrigued you and you wanted so desperately to know the devil underneath those rainbow eyes.

"Lord Douma, if you could please keep your hands to yourself," Muzan warns.

"But I mean she just looks so exquisite- it's shame she's your wife. I'd claim her for myself in an instant."

"You're disgusting," another Upper Moon mumbles to the left of Douma. "Have some fucking respect."

This demon had a more serious aura about him, he seemed more pissed off that he was here. He had hair the color of magenta and eyes like seemed to glow like the sun. His skin was a cool gray hue that had blue lines marking his skin and the rest of his body. He was well defined, as had an open purple vest that exposed his torso. You so desperately wanted to trace all those lines on his chest to see how deep they ran.

"Oh calm down, Pink Head, I'm just paying the lovely lady with some compliments."

"You never have genuine compliments," The Pink haired Upper Moon hisses. "or genuine intentions."

You can't help but giggle at their little banter. All three pairs of eyes focusing on you when you do. You can't help but feel a little shy being at the focus of all these powerful demons. Handsome ones at that.

"She giggled," The Pink Haired Demon says, sounding surprised. "Has she no fear of being around us?"

Muzan looks at you with adoration, "no, my little dove is quite fearless."

"Amazing," Douma wonders, "and she's so fûcking cute too."

Suddenly the doors to the dining room burst open, and the air shifts. As if it was a sunny day and the thunder decided to roll in. This is power this demon had. He had the most intimidating presence of all. He was very tall and muscular, taller than the rest of the demons here. His hair fell into black luscious waves, the ends dipped in a deep red.  But it was his eyes that made you tremble. Six pairs of eyes the color of the moon- his scleras a deep red that matched the tips of his hair. He was beautiful in such an intimidating way. If you weren't currently married to Muzan, you'd be falling in your knees in an instant for this man.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Douma taunts, earning a cold glare from the demon.

Something inside you quivered which each step he took. His purple and black checkered kimono billows behind him.

"Kokushibo, you're late," Muzan adds.

"I was busy," the demon finally replies and oh his voice is enough to make you press your thighs together.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You were married to the most powerful demon of all and yet you were craving these demons just as much.

The newcomer- Kokushibo. Who you knew from the character that was stained on his iris- that he was the Upper Rank One, took a seat the other end of the table.

"Well now that everyone is here, we can finally start this meeting, little dove, do you mind getting some more glasses ? "

"Of course, Master," when you looked in those crimson eyes there was a knowing smirk there and you exit the dining room in a flash.

While you're in the kitchen, you can't help but sneak a hand underneath the folds of your skirt, past your panties and feel your arousal dripping.

The amount of power in that dining room had you soaked to the core, flustered and embarrassed at the lewd images that filled your head, you hastily pull your skirt back down and grab the glasses from the cabinet.

Being a little short, you struggle to reach some of them, you try to climb the cabinet but a hand snakes around your waist, pining you between the counter and his backside. "Careful, little one, you're going to injure yourself." He reaches up to grab the glasses for you and places them in your hands, his pale large veiny hands covering your small ones completely.

"Thank you, Lord Douma," you say, a little breathless at the way he was holding you. You could feel something against your backside.

"No problem, little one, I'd be happy to help you in any way," He whispers seductively in your ear, his voice is soft and melodic but the way he speaks, has your nipples straining against the fabric of the  flimsy gown you wore.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?" You murmur as you feel a hand creep under your skirt.

"I am but I excused myself for the bathroom, sometimes a man has needs to attend to," his hand traces circles along your thigh before reaching the outline of your panties. "I know your Muzan's, but fuck, I can't keep my eyes off you. I want to devour you so badly but my curiosity for you and what you'd feel like around my cock, overshadows that and I want nothing more than to have a little taste of you," he tugs your ear between his teeth causing you you whine softly, his fingers dip into your panties and begin to rub your clit. "Did you know all of us demons have a heightened sense of smell, so I can smell your sweetness from across the room. And I just gotta have it."

"But I'm Muzan's," you protest lamely, arching your back as the circles on your clit quicken.

He laughs into your ear, "that's not what your sopping cunt says right now. Akaza was right. I'm not a man with good intentions. I take what I want, when I want."

With a wicked glint in his, he inserts a finger into your hole, he groans lightly at the way your finger just sinks him in, "so fucking wet for pussy that belongs to someone else."

You shamelessly begin to grind yourself againt him as he begins to fuck you his finger.

"Look at you, grinding on me like a needy slut," Douma cooes, while adding a second finger, scissoring them to stretch out your gummy walls. Soon a third finger is added, and you're a sopping mess as he curls them upward immediately finding the spot that makes you scream. "Careful now, don't want your husband to hear you, or maybe you do."

All you can do is whine as he fucks you brutally with his fingers, you hear some rustling, and then your panties are being ripped down, and something hard is poking at your entrance. As soon as it pierces your walls, you let out a wail. The stretch burns and Douma gives you no chance to adjust to his curved long cock as he brutally pistons into you. Your still wedged between him and the counter so there's no room for you to move. Your completely trapped and helpless against his assault on your body.

"Fuck. So. Damn. Tight," he moans in your ear.

You could feel every scrape and every vein of his throbbing cock hammering into you, he was much longer than Muzan was and seemed to reach places deeper, and perhaps it was the precarious position you were in but all you could feel was him.

"Don't stop," you cry, you knew it was wrong for letting Douma fuck you, but it felt too good that you couldn't resist submitting to his control.

"Don't worry, Dollface," he pulls your ass out so it's angled and you have more room to move. You finally can glance down at where your connected, his balls slapping against your skin, that you knew would leave bruises with how hard they were slapping. His thrusts were relentless, animalistic. The counter's edges dig into your skin with each thrust.

Muzan has his rough tendencies, but this was another level, and you were overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure.

Douma's hands travel to your covered breasts and he cups them in his large hands giving time a squeeze.

"You keep clenching around me and I'm going to cum sooner than we both want. Although maybe I should use you for my own personal cum dump, and just take what I want from you."

You're so incoherent at this point that all the comes out of your mouth is strangled garbles, which turns into a whimper when he wraps a hand around you throat to cut off your airway.

"But unfortunately we can't take as long as we want, because your husband is probably wondering where we are," he just continues to babble in your ear.

The possible reminder of Muzan catching you with Douma, made you even more aroused than it should. You clamp around his cock at the thought, which causes him to fuck you harder. You could feel your stomach coiling he continued to pound into that one spot. He kept playing with your airway, with each thrust of his cock he would squeeze and then let go.

"Fuck, Douma, I'm close," you cry, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"So am I, your pussy is amazing, I want to kidnap you and keep you for my own. Muzan is a lucky motherfucker."

His thrusts become slower more torturous as if to draw out your agonizing orgasm, which was desperate for release.  You were about to lose it if you didn't cum soon. The ache was too much. Too overwhelming.

"Please Douma, let me cum," you beg.

He laughs, "You can beg better than that."

you pout, but that instantly changes when his speed picks up again, rocking your body with his, "FUCK DOUMA LET ME CUM PLEASE."

He cackles, his rainbow irises bright with amusement, "if Muzan comes in here because of that we are both dead."

"I don't care," you hiss, pushing yourself back on his cock trying to get more.

"Well go ahead then, cum slut, make a mess on my cock," Douma encourages. "If you're the desperate to. I think you're just too drunk on my cock to not care about anything else."

His mocking tone along with his greedy thrusts, has you coming undone.

"That's it, make a mess for Douma," he grins madly, before thrusting a few more times before exploding inside you. You both watch in satisfaction as his cum fills you up. "Looks so pretty with my cum." He grabs something behind him and shoves it into your pussy, making sure his cum doesn't leak out.

"Shit Douma, what if Muzan sees?"

The haze of sex has lifted and you're reminded of what you had just done. But there's no shame or remorse on Douma's face and you sure don't regret a single thing.

"Well if Muzan finds out we're both dead, but it was worth it. Come let's go back to the meeting I'm sure he's wondering where both of us went."

Douma leaves you and you hastily follow after. Arriving at the dining room.

"Sorry, Master Muzan i must have had an upset stomach, one of the girls I ate today before coming here must have messed me up," his rainbow irises have disappeared into crescent moons as he takes his seat next to Akaza.

How could he act like nothing happened just now? Meanwhile, you could feel his cum still inside you, and your cheeks were probably flushed. You had no idea how you looked right now.

As soon as Muzan's scarlet cat eyes land on you, you see that familiar glint in them, and you know he knows.

He was the Demon King after all, he knew everything.

"Little dove, did you forget the glasses as I asked for you to get for our guests?"

His tone is calm, but there's an underlying of a mocking tone.

Shivers immediately go done your spine as you bow in a frenzy, "I'm so sorry, Master I- I don't know how I could have forgotten. I'll go back and get them."

"What a bad girl," Muzan tsks. "You forgot something so simple? I wonder why that is."

"Muzan- I-"

"Y/N come here."

You freeze he never uses your actual name unless it's for a punishment. Ashamed you walk over to where Muzan is sitting, but it's a little hard to with Douma's cock nearly damaging you just moments ago. Whom had a smug grin on his face.

"Muzan-"

"Shut the fuck up and turn around," you shiver at cold and calm his tone was. But you obey nonetheless.

Muzan pushes you against the table, your front side digging into the edge. He pushes up the hem of your skirt and your cheeks immediately heat. All of the demons in this room could see your naked ass. But before you could look to see what their reactions are like, a hand comes down on your ass hard, you jolt at the sudden harsh sting. You look back at those scorching scarlet orbs that seemed to burn into you. Fingers graze your swollen pussy, that's stuffed with your underwear."

"Looks like you've been having too much fun with one of my demons," Muzan states, flashing a glare at Douma before glaring at you again. He tugs the cloth out for your pussy and you cry feeling the liquid drip out of you.

"Douma you just can't control yourself can you?" Akaza scolds and you hear a sudden slash. You turn to see Douma's head being split in half. Akaza's hand covered in his blood. You grimace at the sudden violence but a slap against your ass steals your attention.

"Of course he couldn't," Muzan chastises, "how could he resist such a slutty pussy? Especially when it belongs to me?"

"Because it's fûcking paradise, that pussy is," Douma's melodic voice is back and you see that he's regenerated looking as bright as ever.

"Did he fuck you good?" Muzan inquiries, ignoring the Upper 2, his focus entirely on you and your flushed cheeks and the way Douma's cum oozes out of your glistening cunt. "Looks like he did if you let him cum in you."

You're at a loss for words.

He suddenly grips your throat yanking your had back, choking you slightly, making you look at only him, "fucking answer me, slut!"

"Y-yes," you sob, "He fucked me really good."

He chuckles darkly, "perhaps I should let them all fuck you. Huh? Would you like that? Because you're such a slut my cock isn't enough to satisfy you? So you must have them all."

"Muzan-" you try to plead but suddenly your mouth is being stuffed with something wet. Your arousal pools when you realize it's your panties that's wet with yours and Douma's cum. The stench of sex fills your nostrils.

"Shut the fuck up and get on the fucking table."

Trembling out of embarrassment and arousal you climb on the table, your legs shaking.

Before you can situate yourself, Muzan is flipping you over on your back, and drags your head over the edge, letting it hang. Your legs are spread wide letting all the upper moons getting a view of your exposed cunt.The panties in your mouth are being yanked out and replaced with something hot, thick and heavy. Before you have a chance to process, it's being rammed down your throat without any warning.

Muzan looks at you with a sadistic grin as he plows his cock into your mouth. You could feel the blood rushing to your head making you light headed in this position. But he didn't care to stop at your precarious situation. For Muzan wasn't a kind man when he had to punish. His punishments were cruel and brutal. But never to you. That's why you were so shocked but aroused at his sudden cruelty. Saliva and his precum coated your tongue and dripped out of your mouth, as his balls slapped against your chin.

"What a pathetic little cock whore you are," Muzan mocks, as his cock continues tearing into your throat constantly hitting the back of it. "Who wants a turn with my whore's pussy first?"

"Don't mind if I do," you hear Douma say from somewhere, but your mind is too fuzzy. If you were human, you would have died from getting throatfucked in this position with how hard Muzan was abusing it. You wouldn't be able to talk after this for awhile or ever again if he continued. Suddenly, you feel hands spreading your legs apart, a cold breath hits your aching cunt and when the first flick of a tongue meets your folds, you buck your hips at feeling causing Muzan's cock to hit the back of your throat harshly. A chuckle sounding like Douma's tickles your dripping hole, causing you to flutter. You lose it when that tongue begins swirling your clit. Despite his cold breath Douma's tongue was hot and consuming against your pussy lips sending you into immediate overdrive with the urgent yet hungry way he eats you out. He holds your hips with his hands to keep you from squirming. Becoming a prisoner to his delicious assault. His fingers splay your wet lips open, making it easier to that sweet spot. His slurping noises have you screaming . You weave your fingers into those silky, soft silver locks and push him in as deep as can go.

"You taste so fucking sweet, Doll," Douma hums against your folds. His feasting on you is relentless. The way he swirls and sucks on your clit has you falling apart within seconds. But he doesn't stop when you've cum on his face already he just keeps going. Your thighs shaking as he guides you through another orgasm.

Meanwhile, Muzan is still violently fucking your throat, you could feel every vein of his hard cock as he repeatedly slams into you. It grows heavier against your throat and you knew he was close by the low-yet strained grunts coming from the Demon King above, but before you get the chance to feel his seed down your throat. He's yanking your head off and hot cum sprays your face instead. When you whine in protest, he interrupts, "coming down your throat would be a reward for you. I'm not sure you deserve the reward yet."

Douma, removes himself from your pussy, he guides you up into a sitting position, his face is soaked in your juices, you your lips at the sight.

"So delicious," he praises, before pulling you forward, he reaches for you face and brings you into a hungry, demanding kiss. His lips cold yet, hot at the same time. Tasting your arousal his tongue as he swirls it with yours. You shamelessly lock your arms around him bringing him closer so that you're in his lap, straddling him. You grind yourself on his clothed erection, causing him to coo in your ear. "Such a messy girl, you're making such a mess on my pants. Does it drive you crazy knowing that the four most powerful demons are watching you make a mess on me? Watching you turn into a dirty, greedy, little whore? Hmm?"

You  turn into mush at his soft voice that's filled with such lewd words, you continue grinding on him, feeling his massive length under you.

"Yes, Douma."

He chuckles, leaning back lazily watching you fall apart in his lap, while he was doing nothing to help you. 

"Look at your girl becoming a slut for another," Douma smirks at a glowering Muzan. You blink your eyes open and meet those scorching scarlet ones. Making you even more turned on. He was currently sitting in his chair, leaned back while stroking himself. His black curls sticking to his face from sweat. A feline, predatory look in the way he stares at you, while you're getting yourself off in another man's lap has you become more frantic- more bold. More needy. 

"Yes because that's all she is. Is a good little whore for us demons to ruin."

You moan, gripping Douma's neck,  glancing around the room at the others. Akaza was looking disgusted and aroused at the same time. As if fighting an eternal storm in his brain. But the noticeably large tent in his  pants said otherwise. His golden eyes meet yours and you beckon him with your finger.

"Come join us, Akaza," you plead. Kokushibo on the other hand was much harder to read. He gave nothing away in those moon colored orbs  as those six eyes stared at you with an intensity so strong but it was cold and indifferent at the same time.

"Yeah Koku and Akaza, am I only one going to indulge in this sweet pussy or are you guys going to join?"

"I have no interest," Koku hisses, but his eyes never shift from yours.

"I don't want to share with you," Akaza bites back. "I fucking  hate you, rainbow child. "

"But it's not for me, it's for her."

"Plus it's my orders to get to know what's mine," Muzan adds. "And what you'll never get to experience again after this."

"More the reason for me not to join," Koku growls. "Why would I join if I can't keep her all to myself?"

"Because I want you too, Daddy," you plead.

Something in those six eyes flashes, something dangerous that coils in your gut, you come on Douma's lap making a mess, "good job, little one."

"You have no idea what you're asking of me," Koku warns.

"He's a coward then," Douma taunts, flashing the Upper One a charming smile, as he sheds out of his clothes, your jaw dropping as his body was revealed. Douma had a well toned physique his muscles were exquisite and smooth, broad shoulders and a slim waist. Your eyes traveled this cock that you hasn't been able to see before when he was fucking you with it in the kitchen. It was massively long with a slight curve. A good ten inches. You bet. And it stood red and angry against his taut stomach as crisscrossed his legs and brought you back into his lap, not wasting a moment guiding his long shaft into your awaiting heat. You wrap your legs around him, this position was new something you'd never done with Muzan. Every part of Douma was flushed with you. Your tits slapped against his bare chest you rode him in this position. Every inch of his cock was deep and snug against your slick walls. He lets out a strangled moan when you take your nails down his back. There was no telling where you ended and where he started. And you both loved it. He dug his sharp nails into your hips, trying to pull you in deeper.

"Fuck," you both moan, you throw your head back, in pure utter bliss. Reveling in the way he dug into your hole, how every vein and every crevice seemed to scrape along yours. You were sure he was all the way in your stomach.

"You feel so snug and warm against me Doll," Douma praises, his nails digging in deeper. Drawing a little blood causing you to arch into him. "Those idiots don't know what they're missing out on."

A low growl comes from Koku.

"Your blood is just a pretty as you are," Douma grins manically, he brings one of his hands that's covered in your blood. Before bringing it to his mouth. Those usually bright eyes instantly darken and turn feral, the sight of him tasting your blood has you sobbing in pure pleasure. He shoves one into your mouth causing you to choke around his fingers. You instantly taste the metallic taste on your tongue. "Don't you taste divine, little one? Fuck, I might just steal you away from Muzan. I'm too fucking addicted to everything about you. You are so fucking perfect for me. The perfect little doll who takes whatever I give you. don't you all want a taste?"

His words and his actions send you into a frenzy mess and it's not long before your spasming around him, clamping down on him as your orgasm takes over.

"Fuck Douma," you scream.

"I love it when you scream my name," Douma says ever so softly.

Before you have a chance to breathe, you're being pulled off of Douma's cock, you cry at the sudden emptiness. But strong arms whip you around, and without warning a new cock it's a little shorter than Douma's but it is thick, and it's girth is ravenous as it enters you, your head is being pushed down on Douma's lap. His still hard cock being shoved in your face, he just smirks and lifts your head.

"Took you long enough to join us, Pink Head."

"Shut the fuck up, Rainbow Shit," Akaza seethes as he rams into you from behind. His marked hands grip your hips, as he rocks forward into you. Your whole body is jerking at the sudden abruptness. "It's my fucking turn. So let me fuck the bitch."

"Ohmygodohmygod," you cry, "Akazaaaa, you feel incredible."

His cock split you open perfectly. You eagerly took his length in.

"Damn, who pissed you off pinky?"  Douma teases, looking at you with a mischievous grin. His long fingers grip your chin and pries your mouth open, his other hand strokes his cock. He smacks teases your half opened  lips with the tip, smearing precum on your face. "Open your mouth, little one."

You open up wide, he dutifully shoves your head down on his cock, you hollow your cheeks and slacken your jaw to help take him in. But he didn't really you a chance to adjust as he forced your head up and down his long shaft.  Akaza's harsh thrusts causing for Douma's cock to bump down your throat even deeper. Everything felt so good. You'd never felt so used in your life and you were loving every inch of it.

"Now there's a good slut," Douma taunts, "my own personal cocksleeve. Is there anything you can't do?"

"How are you feeling  little dove ?" Muzan suddenly calls out, sounding amused. "You're looking quite stuffed there."

To be honest, with the other two demons currently using you for their pleasure you had forgotten about your husband.

"Her mouth is too stuffed with my cock, Muzan, she's not going to answer you," Douma chants.

"Douma you talk too fucking much!" Akaza snaps, his hips snapping in response and then everything falls silent.

Except for skin on skin, and the lewd moans and slurping sounds that filled the room.  The three of you were way to into this situation.

"That's it, bitch," Akaza growls as you begin to spasm around his cock. "Squeeze me just like that."

Meanwhile Kokushibo was as silent as ever. His moon colored eyes watching with unnerving intensity. He didn't know what he wanted. He knew he wanted you. But he hated everyone else in this room and didn't like the idea of having to share you with any of them. His cock was painfully hard under his kimono. His knuckles where white and gripping the edge of his seat. But watching how the mess the other demons turned you in, listening to your sweet moans and listening to how wet you were, it was driving him mad.

"Fuck,"' you managed in between having Douma's cock down your throat. "Don't fucking stop. Please Akaza."

"Don't worry, I won't stop  until your leaking full of my cum."

Fuck. You were so overwhelmed. The pleasure was unbearable.

You came in white waves, just as Douma's load shot in your mouth.

"Good girl," Douma grins when you swallow all of it.

Not long after Akaza releases in your sensitive  cunt with a low grunt, milking it all the way through til the last drop til he pulls out.

You fall into a heap on the table, completely covered in cum. Your whole body ached.

"If you truly want me to fuck you, Princess," Kokushibo suddenly speaks up, "you better crawl to me. And I'm not sharing you with anyone. You're all mine to fuck alone. Understood?"

Douma chuckles, "I don't think she can move, Koku."

"I understand, Daddy."

He chuckles deep and low, sending shivers down your spine.

"Now come to me," he orders.

Slowly, you sit up and get on your hands and knees. Your whole body aches, your drenched in come. But you want nothing more than to be  fucked by the Upper 1. Ever since he walked through those doors. There was something about him that made you want to kneel before him and do whatever he asked of you. So you crawl.  You feel the others watching you in silence. Even Douma is silent. Kokushibo's eyes never leave yours as you finally reach his end.

He stands up, and fuck, is he tall. He towers over everyone here, he grips your chin with his hands, making you look at only him. Those six eyes burn into every inch of you, "you better pray that you can handle everything I give you. Because I won't hold back. None of these idiots can compare to how I'll make you feel. Not even Muzan. I'll sweep you off your feet," he whispers so no one else but you can hear him. He glances up in the direction of Muzan, as he removes his clothes.

And holy shit is he built by the gods. Now not built by the gods. He is a god. Made of pure muscle. Pure power and pure dominance radiated from this demon. As if he was carved from stone. Not a single inch of him was flawed. You  wanted to lick those abs. The flame pattern that he had on his face went down to his chest. Making him look even more exquisite.  Your eyes shamelessly rake down to his rock hard cock. Or could you even call it that. It was bigger than anyone else's here. And it was thick. Long, thick and you knew it was going to break you.

"Fucking hell, Kokushibo, I might even be gay for you," Douma replies.

"Okay everyone out. Except for Y/N and Muzan. The other two I want you gone."

"But-"

"So selfish, don't you know sharing is caring-"

Douma is cut off by Akaza dragging him by the hair.

"From here on out, you're mine. With the permission of Muzan-"

"Oh you really think I'm just going to hand her over to you?" Muzan laughs darkly. "She's mine, she was mine before she was yours."

"Why don't you both just fuck me and stop this overbearing egotistical shit?" I ask. "If you both want me, then you have me."

" I don't share," Kokushibo seethes. "I would literally start a war to make you mine."

"But so would I," Muzan replies.

You roll your eyes.

"Well let's just see who fucks you better," Koku challenges.

"Sure," Muzan replies coldly. "Go ahead and give it your best."

"Lay down and spread those legs for me, Princess," Koku demands.

You immediately obey him, and watch him as he stalks towards you. He bends down and closes the distance between your lips. A wildfire burns through you at the intensity of his lips. The way he seemed to command and consume your lips. You barely could breath. You let out a moan when he nipped your bottom lip. His hands start to roam your body, and yours could barely grip onto his back. You were so small in comparison to him. But you were determined to feel every ridge. He begins to fondle your breasts, playing and kneading  them like dough. You were nothing but putty in his hands. You reach for his cock, but he slaps your hand away.

"Fuck, Koku," you say breathlessly. "I need you now. Please."

"Patience," he hisses, his lips leave yours and starts leaving trailing down your neck. You arch into him when he begins sucking marks into your skin. He continues you mark and map you with his mouth, until he stops just right where you want him. Over your throbbing pussy. Which was still sensitive from the other demons, so you knew he was going to truly ruin you.  He runs a finger along your slick seams and you hitch in a breath. "I love how you're still begging to be used after Douma and Akaza had their way with you. I guess you're not fucked properly enough if you can still crawl to me. Don't worry, Princess I'll fix that little problem for you."

He slowly inserts a long finger, groaning at the way you immediately suck him in. "Even though you've already been fucked by the others, you still need to be prepared to take me. Because I am much bigger than they are."

"Fuck," you whimper.

After prodding you with one finger he adds another and then a third. Scissoring open your gummy walls. He wastes no time curling them upwards and finding your spot. Jabbing them slowly, teasing you.  You arch your back, but something stops you and pins you still. Muzan has joined in. But he's in his true demon form. With his white curly hair, and tentacles sprouting from his back. His tentacles are straining your arms, leaving you utterly immobile.

"You're so greedy fucking all my demons today. What, you want them all? Is that it? Am I not enough for you?"

"Y-you are enough i - I just-" you scramble for words, but you're slapped in the face, Kokushibo's mouth finally descends on your clit. " Lies!" Muzan growls at the same time you scream out  " aww  fuck!"

Kokushibo's tongue delves into every crevice, sucking while he still fucks you on his fingers. You eagerly grind on him, for more friction. Needing and wanting more.

"Koku, don't stop!" You cry.

Muzan leans over you and shoves his cock down your throat again. At the same time you feel yourself being stretched. No- ripped. You scratch the table since your arms are still pinned by Muzan's tentacles. Kokushibo wastes no time hammering his monster cock into you, greedily taking you however he wants. Muzan's cock plunges into your mouth with the same carnal desire.

"Such a good little toy," Muzan says. "Isn't she Kokushibo?"

But he ignores and focuses his attention on where your bodies meet. He could see the outlines of his cock in your stomach. The table was creaking underneath all the weight. Both demons destroyed and ravaged your body in the most inhuman way, none of them caring about how tired battered was becoming. It was a lewd sight. Truly insane. One of Muzan's tentacles curls around your body and down your clit. Sucking on it as Kokushibo's thrusts become harder, deeper.

You mumble incoherent moans around Muzan's cock. Your vision was becoming blurry, your body numb from all the attention it was receiving.

Another tentacle plays at your other entrance, the wet muscle teasing the rim of your opening.

"See you can own her pussy," Muzan states confidently, "but I  own her entire body. Including her soul."

With that the tentacle pushes into your hole. Muzan pulls out of your mouth to let you scream. Choking you with his hands. You come instantly. Your body is being overwhelmed the pleasure was starting to hurt because you've come countless of times tonight, you didn't even know how many. But your body was reaching its limit. But you didn't want them to stop. All your holes are being filled and there wasn't an inch of you that belonged to you anymore. You were theirs. Their plaything.

"Shut the fuck up, Muzan!" Kokushibo warns.

Muzan just laughs, and sobers up when he notices how dizzy you're looking, "you okay, little dove? Do you need us to stop?"

Kokushibo slows a bit, caressing your face, "we'll stop princess, if you need us too."

You shake your head, "no... I'm fine."

Kokushibo picks you up, taking you into his arms, kissing you softly, his length still pounding upwards into you while you cling to him like a koala.

"Please don't stop, koku. I want you to come in me," you whine. Muzan is suddenly at your back. Your sandwiched in between the two most powerful demons, and you couldn't be more at peace.

"Lift her for me," Muzan commands softly. Kokushibo doesn't fight this time, he grips your ass with his massive hands a lifts you up, Muzan's tip nudges your other entrance before easing his way in. You whine at the sudden stretch of both men inside you. Both with big cocks and big egos. They take turns hammering into you. You grab Koku by the neck and pull him in for a sloppy, kiss. Moaning into his mouth. He kisses you back with as much fervor.

“fuck don’t stop you guys,” you plead, before pulling away from Koku. Muzan grabs you by the chin and claims your mouth with his you grip his white silky locks, tugging on them as he devours your mouth possessively.

You could feel your orgasm approaching and by the way both cocks were growing inside you, and hips were starting to stutter, you could tell both demons were close.

“Koku- Muzan - I’m close.”

“Makes a mess, Princess,” Kokushibo encourages gruffly, “make a mess on Daddy’s cock.”

“Little dove, cum for Master,” Muzan growls.

“I want us to come together, fill me up, please.”

“Alright,” Muzan says.

A few more thrusts and clenching around them, you throw your head back onto Muzan’s chest as both men fill both your holes up with cum at the same time.

“Awww fuck,” you all say unison when you’re being pulled off and cum gushes out.

“That is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen,” Muzan says.

But you’re eyes are drifting shut.

“I’ll have make you a mandatory part of our meetings from now on,” Muzan says, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“I hope you understand I’m not letting her go now,” Kokushibo warns. “She’s mine now too.”

Muzan rolls his eyes, lifting you into his arms.

“Well then how about she’s all of ours,” Douma appears with Akaza in tow.

“I don’t share,” Kokushibo snaps, “I will kill you all to have her to myself.”

“And I definitely don’t want to share her with you, Rainbow Shit.”

Douma pouts, “I thought we all just had a bonding moment. We’re friends now you and I.”

In a blink of an eye, Akaza swipes Douma’s head in half.

“You and I will never be friends.”

“How rude,” Douma sighs as he’s once again regenerated. “ I am seriously offended,” he puts a hand over his chest.

“You’re all lucky I let you indulge in MY WIFE,” Muzan reminds them harshly. “Next time I might not be so kind.”

“Guys can you all stop fighting over me?“ you murmur sleepily on Muzan’s lap. Still naked. Kokushibo grabs his kimono and places it over you to cover you up. “What if I want all of you?”

All eyes snap to you, all demons growl. Even Douma is annoyed.

“Sweetheart we are demons, we don’t share with others. We take what we want from others even if that means killing,” Douma explains. “ and us four demons specifically each other’s guts.”

“Fine, then I want none of you then,” you hiss.

“No!” Kokushibo snaps, “ you want all of us? Then fine. We’ll agree to your wishes if it makes you happy. “

“That’s if we don’t kill each other first,” Akaza pipes in.

“No promises,” Douma smirks.

"All right, little dove, you win-“ suddenly Muzan’s head is beheaded falling to the floor with a thud. Kokushibo is standing behind, before stealing you from the demon king, then before anyone can react.

Kokushibo vanishes with you in his arms.

“I believe this will definitely start a war Koku,” you protest.

“I don’t care, we both know the minute I walked through those doors, that you were mine.”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, but you didn’t mind. He was right he stole you away from Muzan the minute he walked through those doors.

“So where are you taking me, Koku?” Pulling caressing his face softly.

He looks down at you with a warm smile, “I’m taking you home, with me. Where you belong.”

#upper moons #uppermoonkoku #demon slayer kokushibo #demon slayer douma #demon slayer akaza #muzan kibutsuji #demon king muzan #kokushibou smut #kokushibo x reader #douma x you #douma smut #akaza x reader #akaza smut #muzan x y/n #muzan smut #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer oneshots #demon slayer smut #uppermoonxreader #kimetsu no yaiba douma #demon slayer

[seireitonin]

Dating: Eyeless Jack

Have to talk about someone besides LJ and Toby so here’s some EJ as requested! Sorry I lost your OG question whoever sent it :( Ik EJ has no “canon” backstory but the one I grew up with and the one that the fandom uses the most is the college/ cult one so that’s the one I’m using :3 also I hc EJ a bit different so yeah :3 I had to rewrite this 4 times bc the progress kept getting deleted 😭

After multiple years of living off human organs in the forest, EJ has lost most of his social skills

So he doesn’t really try

He just sneaks into peoples homes, takes what he needs and leaves

He set his sights on you. You were perfect.

Your house is close to the forest, you live alone, you seem to sleep pretty heavy

He’ll be in and out no problem

So he sneaks into your home, quietly. Not waking you

And he stands over you, looking down at you

It’s ironic because he has no eyes, yet the demon inside him lets him see through the dark clearly

He watches you sleep peacefully

Your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your perfectly placed features, your soft breathing

He definitely would’ve had a crush on you in college

College….the fact that you made him think of college, his old life at all in any way at all, he knew you were more than just a quick meal

So he left

What was his next step? Stalking you of course!

He watched you go about your normal days. Talk to your friends, eat your food and watch tv. Normal.

He fantasized about living normally alongside you

He didn’t ask for the life he had now after all, it was thrust upon him

Part of him almost hated you for being so carefree but he knew that wasn’t fair to you

Since he can’t be part of your normal life, you’ll have to be part of his weird one

He took you from your home in your sleep, only using the smallest injection of drugs to keep you unconscious

And you woke up screaming in his cabin in the forest

He hated you screaming at the sight of him

Not only because it annoyed him, but you’re supposed to be making him feel normal. You’re just reminding him that he’s a monster

“I’m not going to hurt you”

You stay silent for days you stayed silent and frozen in fear

Jack understands at first but after multiple days of your silence he gets angry

Part of him loved that he was able to take someone else’s normal life away like his was

After an unsuccessful hunt for food, he talks to you, upset

“What’s the point of you being here if all you’re going to do is stare at me?!”

You look at him silently still

“Say something to me! Anything! Just….talk to me like I’m….”

“Like you’re what?”

The first words you’ve said to him…

“Human”

You two start to talk. Not like you have much else to do

And after days of talking you start to weirdly get along with him. And you don’t even know what he looks like

He always covered head to toe, black clothes, black gloves, blue mask with his black hoodie covering his head. You were barely able to figure out he had brown hair because you saw one tuff

You don’t want to upset your literal captor so you don’t push it

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I…just don’t know what you look like”

“You don’t have to”

Jack is terrified of showing you what he looks like. How could he even explain his appearance. Talking with you has been the most normal he’s felt in years. If he shows you what he looks like…that feeling is over

“Please….”

He hears you ask softly

“No…you don’t need to see what I look like”

“You kidnapped me it’s literally the least you can do”

“……”

“I won’t judge”

“There’s so much about me I can’t explain. I… talking with you has made me forget about what I am. So please….let me savor this feeling”

You nod and respect his wishes

Then days turn into weeks and into months

And you ask again

“Jack, please let me see your face”

“No”

“It’s my birthday! This is all I want for a present!”

He legs out a sigh

“Is this really what you want?”

You nod

“Only if you take it off” he was fully ready for your look of disgust and screams of terror

And so you do and you smile at him as you take him in, his grey skin, soft brown hair that falls into his face a bit and sharp teeth oh and no eyes

“Why aren’t you screaming?”

“I don’t know”

Jacks been sleeping by your side since that night

You guys don’t call yourself a couple, but it’s basically what you are

But being with him isn’t all fun

When he had to hunt he comes back angry, not at you, but the fact that he has to do it at all

So he’s snappy, irritable and barely talks and he’s just not pleasant to be around when he’s like that

He hates hunting and feeding and won’t do it for days and only does it when absolutely necessary

When that happens the demon he’s hosting takes over and it’s terrifying

He gets much taller, he barely talks, becomes more animalistic and at night he just stares at you, like he’s trying to hold himself back from attacking you

He hates that you have to see him like that but he also hates hunting and feeding

When he feeds he will never do it around you

He’ll always go in another room but you can hear everything

You can hear the noises of him eating because he eats like a ravenous animal

You can hear his growling and panting and fleshy ripping noises as he tears into the meat of the organs with his teeth

He’ll come back to your bedroom blood, around his mouth, hands and the rest of him and you have to pretend everything is normal or he’ll get mad

“You think because I don’t have eyes I can see the way you look at me?! Stop looking at me like that!”

You can only look away

He can’t take you out like a normal boyfriend can because of the way he looks and it makes him upset

So when he sees you wanting to do normal couple things it hits a nerve

“You know damn well I can’t do that”

He’s upset that he can’t be normal alongside you and give you what you deserve

He tries to take you on walks around the forest but he knows you deserve more

He’s super possessive of you and keeps you by his side at all times. You’re the only thing that makes him feel normal

Even though he trusts you he always is watching you to make sure you don’t try to escape

Try to escape and there WILL be consequences

But hopefully it’ll never come to that

Jack sometimes gets really depressed about how his life turned out so sometimes if that happens he’ll just cry

Well, he’ll try to

The tar burned his tear ducts and he has no eyes so he’ll just make these heaving noises and they’re so sad to listen to

It’s so heartbreaking that he can’t do a human thing like cry

So you just hold him as he makes those noises, comforting him as best you can

“I wish I could look into your eyes, Jack”

“Me too”

He hasn’t had a romantic connection like this in years

His last romantic interest was Jenny the girl who made him this monster in the first place so sometimes he’s scared you’re going to somehow you’re gonna betray him

He knows he’s being paranoid though or so he hopes

On top of that he’s not good at communicating / being social at all since he’s spent so much time alone

So when he’s upset or angry or has a problem with you he won’t talk it out with you he just leaves or is quiet. Worst case scenario, just mean

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it so just drop it.”

“But-“

“Drop it. Now.”

He gets better with communication as time goes on

Although he still really struggles with it

He’s also not very affectionate so it’ll feel like you’re alone even when he’s with you

He doesn’t do it on purpose, hes just so used to not receiving affection and he hasn’t given anyone affection in years

After some talks he’ll get better with it

He really does love you he just doesn’t exactly know how to show it

But he tries

He knows you can’t leave the house with him so when he’s out, he’ll get you your favorite food, a trinket or something else you like

“Here. I know you like this”

He sleeps much better now that you’re next to him

He’s grateful for you

He really is. You didn’t have to open up to him and accept him but you did and he’ll forever love you for that

Since your actual house is close to the forest you actually take him back to your house and live with him normally

You watch TV together, lounge around and get takeout that he can’t consume so he watches you eat it and just laugh and talk

When he’s with you, he’s normal. You’re his normal. His home. He finally found what he wanted in you

Although it’s not perfect, you’re together and that’s all he needs

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #eyelessjack hcs #eyeless jack hc #eyeless jack hcs #eyelessjack #eyeless jack creepypasta #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you

[iloveslllycatss]

RUNAWAY

— pairing : post naruto vs sasuke fight!sasuke uchiha x fem!reader  — genre : angst , fluff — summary : sasukes always seen the worst in everything, even you. and when he realizes all the hurt he’s caused for you, his word crashes (again) — a/n : i love my man and i love kanye west. LISTEN TO RUNAWAY BY KANYE WEST! (lyrics not in order, i picked the ones that go most with what’s happening) bold + italics is lyrics NOT PROOFREAD.

SASUKES ALWAYS despised everything. but never you. 

at the beginning, he mistook his love for hate, always complaining about you to himself, yet always willing to protect you. he always pointed out your faults, always thinking about himself. but you? you always prioritized him. he was the reason of your existence, the reason you kept living. 

now that sasuke was back, he had apologized to you for his past, to everyone. his past was something he wanted to forget. he wanted to be better. for himself, for you. but after the two of you got together, it seemed like he only saw the worst in everything. it felt like he wasn’t even interested in you. but you dealt with it, your biggest fear being the possibility of him leaving. you had grown attached to him.

he knew this, of course. he knew you couldn’t leave, and that you wouldn’t even if you had the chance. he knew he was hurting you. sasuke always noticed that look on your face when he said something wrong. he noticed the way you’d look at him with those eyes, the look on your face filled with hurt and disappointment, but you’d quickly conceal your feelings when you saw him. he noticed how you’d always hide how you felt, just so you wouldn’t burden him.

he felt guilty. guilty for the fact he’d hurt you without even trying. for him, it was like a reflex. he unconsciously pushed you away all the time, always keeping that cold, emotionless look on his face, as if he didn’t even care. but he did. and he knew it was getting to you.

and i always find, yeah i always find something wrong, you’ve been putting up with my shit just way too long

he tried to hold back his cruel words, he did. but he’d always end up pushing you away. saying things like ‘you’re annoying’ or ‘shut up’, he never wanted to say those things, they just kinda came out, he’d mutter a small ‘sorry’ after he’d say it, but it still hurt. and he didn’t know how to fix it.

im so gifted at finding what i don’t like the most

you couldn’t remember the last time sasuke told you he loved you, or the last time he’s initiated affection with you. you’d always initiate affection, hugging him and kissing his cheek, he liked it. but sometimes it was a little too much, so he’d lash out, his tone would be cold, and he’d tell u to stop smothering him, or that you were being clingy. he didn’t mean it, of course. he just didn’t know how to tell you without hurting you. he saw himself as a monster, especially when you’d give him that look again. he had hurt you, and he didn’t know how to stop.

you’d grow a little distant after that happened, cutting down on how much affection you’d give him, even if you craved it. you had stopped talking to him as much too.

you always tried to be perfect for him, always willing to change yourself for him. it was always about him. you put his opinion before yours, his feelings before yours, his wants before yours. you couldn’t help it. you loved him with every cell in your body, and you didn’t want him to get bored of you one day and leave.

when sasuke would get angry and he’d come home, he didn’t bother hiding it. his eyes low and cold. his glare piercing into the back of your head, and you felt it. you could feel how pissed he was from just standing by him, the only problem? he’d take it out on you. 

he wouldn’t raise his hand at you or anything, he wouldn’t dream of it. he wouldn’t yell, either. he’d just give you that look of hatred and disgust. not because he felt that way towards you, but because his mind was going crazy at the thought of whatever had pissed him off. when he’d speak to you, he’d blame you for whatever he was mad at, but he’d do it subtly. he didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t help it. sasuke didn’t know how to control his anger without taking it out on someone or pushing them away and keeping it to himself.

and i just blame everything on you, atleast you know that’s what i’m good at

after he’d calm down, he would apologize, first thing when he saw you. his voice would be low and he’d avoid your eyes, keeping an even tone with you. his breathing would be calm, and steady. and you’d forgive him right away, like you always do.

and i always find , yeah i always find , yeah i always find something wrong.

you’ve been putting up with my shit just way too long.

i’m so gifted at finding what i don’t like the most.

so i think it’s time for us, to have a toast.

what really got to him, was when he saw you curled up on the bed at night one day when he got back from a mission. he saw you hugging yourself, under the covers in the dark bedroom. you looked peaceful yet bothered. your sleep wasn’t a good one, and it showed. he felt so guilty for how he’s been treating you. he wanted to be better. he wanted to show you he could be a good boyfriend.

he showered and got dressed, laying next to you on the bed after, he hesitated. only for a little bit, before he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly. it startled you a little, you woke up, your vision blurred and your voice drowsy

“sasuke..?” you asked, your voice was low, almost a whisper. you were confused by the sudden affection. but not complaining though, you had wanted this the whole time. and the first words that came out of his mouth surprised you.

“…… im sorry, y/n.” he mutters, quietly. he needed this. just as much as you did.

baby i got a plan, runaway as fast as you can.

his apology made your heart melt. you shifted a little, turning around to face him as he held you. “it’s okay, sasuke. it’ll always be okay” you say, quietly but sweetly. your voice like honey to him. he couldn’t get enough of it.

“.. i don’t understand….. , why you stayed with me for so long , even though i’m always hurting you.” he mutters again, his voice faint. his tone even, and his grip on you tightens.

runaway from me, baby …… run away,

runaway from me, baby …… run away.

when it starts to get crazy,  why can't she just, run away?

baby, I got a plan, runaway as fast as you can..

you stayed quiet, his words hit close to home for you. you didn’t know why you stayed. for you, it was like you just couldnt leave. you didn’t know if you could handle living without him. especially considering all the times you thought you had lost him. you loved him. more than anything. 

you understood why he treated you like that, he’s never been with anyone else, he didn’t know how to act in a relationship. but he was gonna try to be better, for your sake. he’s never been much of a romantic, he didn’t know how or what to do to make you feel good (not sexually u dirty mf 🤓). he was scared you’d leave him. he didn’t know how he’d manage without you. you were the calm to his storm. he couldn’t imagine it. he didn’t want to be with anyone else. just you.

never was much of a romantic, i could never take the intimacy ;

and I know it did damage, cause the look in your eyes is killin me

i guess then you at an advantage, cause you could blame me for everything ;

and I don't know how I'ma manage, if one day you just up and leave.

…

“i love you, sasuke. i couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.” you murmur, engulfed in his warmth. your voice was quiet, and only truth was told. “i’m not going anywhere, ever.” you say, reassuring him. 

but when you said those words, 3 words, 8 letters. his eyes widened. he couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe that you loved him. even after everything he’s put you through. his grip on you only tightens. he’s scared to let you go, scared to lose you if he does. he hesitates a little,

“…….. i love you too. i’m sorry.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, and you just turn your head up at him and press your lips to his jawline softly, a small  show of affection to reassure him some more.

he was gonna try for you. whatever it took, he would do it.

he just wanted to be perfect. for you.

© spiderruna 2023 , no swiping guys

#sasuke fic #sasuke retrieval arc #i love sasuke #uchiha sasuke #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x y/n #sasuke x you #sasuke x reader #naruto shitposting #naruto x reader #naruto fic #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto sasuke #sasuke angst #sasuke fluff #pls help #pls like this #pls laugh #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #uchiha clan #sharingan #uchiha brothers #uchiha shisui #uchiha itachi #uchiha obito #uchiha madara #naruto manga

[mastermindmiko]

Request: Where reader is jealous of some girl who flirts ron. And ron and reader have passionate sex

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you don't mind, but I've left out the smutty parts because I feel uncomfortable writing them. Sorry it took so long.

Green eyed monster and green skin girl

Pairing: Ron Weasley + reader

word count: 1008

Summary: Lavender gets too close to your boyfriend

Warnings: jinxes, some sexual innuendos, y/n being kinda cruel, maybe some mistakes? noot proofread

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Ron has always been a jealous person. Sometimes, it didn't even make sense why he was jealous. It had sprouted over years of insecurity and feeling like his brothers were better than him. I've always tried to reassure him and make sure that he felt loved.

What didn't make sense, though, was the fact that today, Ron wasn't jealous, I was. So when madame Sprout announced that Ron's partner was Lavender I was too busy fisting my pen in my palm and trying to ignore her obnoxious laughter than celebrating the fact that Neville was my partner which guaranteed me an O.

They were sitting in the seats a few feet in front of Neville and I, and after a few minutes, I couldn't resist the urge to glare at the back of Lavender's head.

Poor Neville was trying to explain something to me, but I couldn't help but fantasize about chopping off Lavender's long blonde hair or even better yet, setting her whole head on fire.

My blood was already boiling, but when Lavender let out a high-pitched giggle and decided to place her hands on my boyfriend's arm, I was seeing red. All I was thinking about was how after the lesson, I couldn't wait to give her a piece of my mind.

Suddenly, I didn't have to wait till the end of the lesson because her hair caught fire. She started screaming and shouting. There was chaos all around her, and I tried to ignore it as much as I could. I didn't know I was that angry.

"How could you do such a thing?" Hermione whispers, angrily from the chair behind me after madame Sprout poured water on Lavender's head, leaving her looking like a drowned rat. I shrug my shoulders and avoided her gaze, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please! Everyone here noticed the way you wanted to stab her." Hermione scolded, and I scoffed at her (very true) insinuation. I said, "I did not want to stab her."

"You did, too. I stopped explaining ten minutes ago." Neville pipped in from beside me. I rolled my eyes and huffed. I turned back to find that Lavender's hair was intact and after a quick drying spell, she looked normal again.

Lavender continued her antics and pressed on my boyfriend's bicep, no doubt telling him how fit he was. Ron flushes and awkwardly shifts away from her. He looks back at me to find me glaring at both of them.

Lavender looks back at where Ron's looking and notices me. Her face turns to disgust. She looks me up and down, then scoffs, and she looks back to the front. I growl and try to claw at her from behind my table while Neville holds me back. Neville says, "You can't go to Azkaban for murder!"

"You're right, Neville." I say while straightening out my uniform before sitting down in the stool again. I grab my pen and whisper, "There are too many witnesses here anyway."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" I reply, feigning innocence. Thankfully, the lesson is over in a few minutes. Neville and everyone else leaves the greenhouse. I wait, noticing how Lavender has my boyfriend cornered, talking to him about something idiotic.

Ron stops her mid sentence and rushes out of the greenhouse before she can catch him again. Lavender huffs and flips a bit of her hair over her shoulder. It was my moment, I slung my back over my shoulder, and as I walked towards her, I flick my wand to preform one of my favourite spells.

After it's done, I grin, satisfied. She's done packing when I reach her. I clear my throat and she looks at me. The give her a fake smile then say, "You should really know not to touch what isn't yours, especially since I know that you know that Ron isn't yours."

"What are you going to do if I don't?" Lavender replies with a hand on her hip. I smile, and head to the door, leaving the greenhouse, but not before replying, "You'll know."

Ron's waiting outside, fidgeting anxiously. I ignore him and walk a few steps towards the castle. Ron follows muttering, "I'm so sorry, I would never-"

"Relax, Ron. You were great, she, on the other hand...she'll get her punishment." I mutter the last part of my sentence. Ron looks confused. He asks, "What do you mean?"

A few laughs are heard and then a loud scream. I grin, knowing what happened. Ron looks back at the havoc that's occurring, and his eyes go wide. I can only imagine what he must be seeing, Lavender with green skin and hair. Ron looks back at me, eyes wide. Then, his face turns into what can only be described as incredibly smug.

"You're jealous." Ron says, and I look at him, mouth agape. I was, but no way I was telling him. I roll my eyes, but the blush on my cheeks betrays me. I huff, "You're insane."

"You're very jealous." Ron replies and lets out a chuckle at the end. I pout and start marching away from him. Ron wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest.

He presses his lips to mine and raises his hand to cradle my face. It's slow and passionate. I open my mouth, and he deepens the kiss. I feel butterflies in my stomach. He parts, voice significantly deeper, "You're very sexy when you're jealous, darling."

He trails his other hand and fidgets with the hem of my skirt. My eyes widen, and I look around to find no one noticing. Ron whispers into my ear, "How about...we go to my dorm, and I'll remind you how you're the only one for me."

He presses a long kiss to my lips again, but this time, it's filled with lust. A need grows inside me, and I can't help but let out a small moan when he pinches my waist. Ron doesn't waste any time taking us to his dorm.

a/n: I think you can guess what happens next. I hope this was good, its my first time writing a request, I hope I did it justice.

#harrypotterimagine #hogwarts #harry potter #harrypotter #fanfiction #fluff #gryffindor #harryjamespotter #harrypotterfluff #ron weasley #ron weasley angst #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley smut #hermione granger #neville longbottom #harrypotterfanfiction #harry potter ff #jealousy #insecurity #happy ending #lavender brown

[sunfyresrider]

Love & Ruin 2

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly Word count: 10k Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested) Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)

“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same. 

Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.

It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit. 

His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing. 

The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.

Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl. 

He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after. 

Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.

But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely. 

Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He 

He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering. 

“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’ 

Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper. 

Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” 

Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you. 

You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed. 

It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred. 

Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections. 

Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you. 

The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror… 

Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up. 

You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not. 

You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface. 

Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions. 

Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again. 

“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact. 

It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse. 

Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye. 

Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her… 

Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance. 

Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils. 

The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head. 

Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes. 

You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy… 

You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.” 

Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint? 

Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you. 

Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.  

Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again. 

Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan. 

So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day. 

It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?

Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind. 

You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far. 

He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor. 

Not one of his proudest moments to date.  

“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions. 

He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.” 

“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!” 

Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning… 

As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?” 

-

Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all. 

What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead. 

“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?” 

“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.” 

Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.” 

Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…” 

There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him. 

She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist. 

Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer. 

Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus. 

If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working. 

At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’ 

Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?” 

They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”

The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament. 

The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married. 

That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late. 

If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe… 

A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.” 

You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull. 

“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way. 

Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in. 

A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.

Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication. 

“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that. 

A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface. 

“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.

Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned. 

“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you.  By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy. 

“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward. 

You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost. 

“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.” 

The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level. 

His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.

The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made. 

She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear. 

“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?” 

Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.” 

“…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game. 

A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.” 

His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once. 

Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.

You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly. 

“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking… 

“We have a winner!” 

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough… 

“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!” 

Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.” 

He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it… 

CRASH

Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.” 

“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.” 

Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…

“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?” 

A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow. 

—

“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers. 

Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.” 

A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.” 

The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.” 

She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself. 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.

But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman. 

“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself. 

“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding. 

You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”

“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.” 

One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!” 

“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another. 

“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!” 

You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off. 

The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…” 

“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort… 

The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person. 

He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one. 

Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you. 

The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need. 

“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”

His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.

Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?” 

You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.” 

Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you?  Who do you belong to? Say it!” 

“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.

“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.” 

He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.” 

The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it. 

Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you! 

The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union.  Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you. 

The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over? 

____________________________________

Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you. 

When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.

As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.

The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…

He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch. 

He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore. 

For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.” 

Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it." 

The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?” 

You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow. 

“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”

The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes. 

You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor. 

____________________________________

“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.”  He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.” 

Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”

“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw. 

The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself. 

“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath. 

The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on. 

The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged. 

Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up. 

“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!” 

____________________________________

You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there. 

You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.” 

The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you. 

It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free. 

You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.” 

He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”

In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?” 

He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.” 

You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.

“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.

His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain. 

Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts.  His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.

His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.

“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit. 

He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked. 

He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.

____________________________________

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon the usurper #aegon the elder #aegon ii #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon fic #aegon fluff #aegon smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii fic #hotd fic #house of the dragon

[konigsblog]

Toxic!Simon tracking you down, after you left cause you caught him with another girl>>>

Him then swearing he'll never do it again, and he's just so so sweet making it up to you,

Only for you to catch him cheating once again :((

i feel like this heavy so trigger warnings for mentions of simon's nephews death, and mentions of drugs;

he promised, he swore on his nephew's grave he wouldn't do it again, to be the bast man that you knew. weeks passed, everything seemed fine; he was comforting, holding your form close to his chsst, close enough to feel his thumping heartbeat, a clear sign that he was misusing drugs again.

you sighed in disappointment. it was obvious he wasn't doing well, and you knew what that meant. he only ever used weed whenever he was stressed, of course that wasn't an indication he was cheating, but the text messages on his phone definitely were. simon was knocked out cold on the couch, his chest rising and falling, his forearm covering his eyes.

a notification lit up his screen, and you couldn't help yourself. a message from a women, a name you recognized when you first caught him cheating. the messages were downright disgusting, twisting your stomach, bile rising in your throat in horror as you saw how long this had been going on for.

simon didn't want to give up his cheating life, it was a part of him now. but the thing that really stood out to you, caused tears to form in your eyes faster than your actions, was that he swore on his nephews grave. how selfish could he be? how fucking disrespectful. this wasn't the simon you once knew and loved, the one you'd comfort on his hardest days, the one you'd hold whenever he spoke to joseph's headstone, this was a monster, and you didn't recognize him anymore.

you weeped quietly as he groaned in his sleep, the side affects from the drugs wearing away. looking down at your figure. you were in hysterics, gasping for air. and still, he had the audacity to ask you what happened. “baby..? what's wrong?” his voice boomed, echoed, rotted your brain.

“what have you become, simon..” his eyes widened at your question, glancing at his phone, eyebrows knotted with anger. “why are you looking through my fuckin' phone?” it wasn't a question to answer, you avoided it, revealing your raw and glassy eyes, filled with fury. “why are you speaking to other women, simon. you promised me - you promised on joseph's grave!”

his heart was pounding, slamming against his bones, his fist clenched with rage boiling inside him. “i wish i could say that i recognize you, but i can't. you aren't the man i grew to love.” you didn't expect to see his eyes glistening, dropping to his knees before you, grasping at your thighs and attempting to pull you closer to him as he weeped.

“please, baby.. please, please, i'm so sorry-! you don't deserve this, i'll change- i swear, love.- don't leave me, i'm begging you, you can't do this..!” simon's voice became stuttered, your avoided his gaze, his once adoring and welcoming eyes were replaced with evil, scleras tinted a shade of pink, falling victim to horrible things drugs can do to you.

you shoved him off of you, grabbing the keys, a random jacket on the clothes peg and your shoes. dashing out the door whilst he desperately attempted to sway your opinion, grasping at his hair when you door slammed shut. you could hear the screaming from inside his cheap apartment, the sounds of glass shattering and smashing broke your heart.

all you wanted with the old simon riley back. the memories of the pair of your falling asleep together on the couch, your legs intertwined with eachother, the cheesy romcom blarring from the tv. you missed simon riley, not the monster that grew inside him, the one who left you in tears every night, who promised to change, yet never would, not even for you.

#call of duty modern warfare #orla speaks #modern warefare ii #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod headcanons #cod imagine #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mw22 #ghost simon riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #ghost headcanon #ghost x reader #ghost mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #reader x ghost #ghost #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod mwf2 #cod mw3 #call of duty mwii

[elaratyrell]

Poor Unfortunate Souls {Part 3/3 -> FINALE} … Jace's Version

*All images found on Pinterest. Moodboard made by yours truly*

Dark ! Ursula! Aemond x Fem! Eric! Reader x Ariel! Jacaerys

Warnings: Language probably, reader is still mind controlled, Aemond's a dick, Aemond kicks a dog but it's unharmed, non- consensual touching (Aemond's gets a little handsy {well, tentacle-y, if you get my drift}), minor angst but a happy ending!!! Not entirely proof read (yet) *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Synopsis: Jacaerys Velaryon, the reluctant heir to Atlantica. The moment he saw you, he knew he would never see someone who could capture him with their beauty again. You would haunt him eternally. In a desperate attempt to meet you, he turns to Aemond Targaryen, an outcast from the merfolk, to help him walk amongst the land dwellers. But when Aemond lays his eyes on you, he knows he has to have you. By any means necessary.

Chapter Synopsis: Jace desperately tries to stop your wedding to Aemond before sunset, but will he be able to break the spell his crazed uncle has on you? And if he does, will you feel the same way about him?

Part One Part Two Aemond's Ending

A/N: I'm sorry this has taken so long to write, I've struggled with motivation and burnout. BUT... the trailer, Harry's recent instagram posts, all of the Ewan content we've been getting over this past week and listening to the little mermaid soundtrack on repeat has relit a spark inside of me. Enjoy! Aemond's part should be published before Christmas

Jace hadn't dared to leave his room all day.

He didn't want to in fear for seeing you or Aemond.

The thought of you marrying that monster made him sick to the pit of his stomach.

And he felt embarrassed.

Embarrassed over how stupid he had been.

He should have known that Aemond had an ulterior motive. He should have known there was something else planned. Looking back on it, it was obvious that his uncle had developed a depraved obsession with you. The way he knew about you, tried to intercept him at every turn. Jace thought that Aemond just wanted him to fail but seeing that... it had made everything abundantly clear.

And now his soul was to be claimed by Aemond. And what would most certainly be an even worse fate awaited his family, his people, especially poor Luke. Aemond would save the worst for him. And you... Jace immediately shook the thought from his mind. He didn't want to think of what Aemond had in store for you.

At some point during the day, Jace had moved from leaning against the door to sitting by the window. His gaze would rest on his two legs, something that he had always dreamed of possessing, now seeming obsolete. Where he had previously looked upon them with wonder, he now looked at them with nothing short of resentment, disgusted with how his selfish impulsiveness had sealed his entire kingdom, family and the woman he loved to a terrible fate.

He regretted ever following your ship that night.

He regretted seeing you, falling for you, letting those feelings and fantasies of living on the surface with you cloud his mind.

And yet despite that, his heart sank when he saw your wedding ship leave the port from the view of his window, head resting against the glass, watching as you drifted further and further away from him. Were you feeling nervous? Happy? Did you think of him at all?

You hadn't even said goodbye.

Perhaps Jace had merely been a burden, a duty to you. Someone that you felt you needed to help, but not to care about.

His eyes squeezed shut as he felt a new wave of tears cloud his vision for what was likely the twentieth time that day. His body heaved in a silent sob, his head dropping to rest on his brought up knees.

He could only imagine the look of disappointment on his mother's face if she could only see him now. Or the cruel, mocking one that would no doubt cross Daemon's as he showed Rhaenyra that every jab he had sent Jace's way had been true. That he was nothing but a weak, unworthy prince of the realm. An unfitting heir to the throne that Aemond would likely attempt to usurp from her.

Feeling a small nudge against his cheek, Jace tilted his head to see Syrax perched on his shoulder. Perhaps it was his own tear stained vision, but it almost seemed as though she were crying too.

Jace lifted his head and attempted to give her what he hoped was a small smile, but his face shortly crumpled again, tears streaking down his cheeks. Syrax placed her claws either side of his face in a sort of hug, her head resting against his. It was strange, but it comforted him, quieting his sniffles and calming his breaths.

Yet all he really wanted was to see his mother, to feel the warmth of her embrace one last time. To amend their relationship that had been fracturing for some time now.

The somewhat tender moment was interrupted by a loud smacking thud against the window, causing Jace to jump and Syrax to almost slip and fall from his shoulder.

Jace hastily leaned forward to unlock and open the window to let a very distressed Cannibal into the room, the bird squawking loudly as he landed on Jace's knee.

Jace attempted to calm the bird down, but nothing seemed to work. Cannibal hopped of the prince's knee, hovering in the air, as though miming himself flying in the sky. He then suddenly dived onto the unmade bed, hiding behind the bedpost, staring at the ground like he were spying on something.

Jumping onto the bedroom floor, he covered his left eye with his wing, his beak upturned in an almost sinister grin as he let out a choked squawk that bordered on a laugh, pointing at his chest with his other wing. Hopping to face the other way, he pinned his wings by his side, wiggling his body from side to side.

Jace rose to his feet and hurried over to the desk, grabbing a sheet of parchment. He opened the ink bottle, dipping the quill inside several times before scrawling onto the parchment. Black ink dropped onto the parchment, and his handwriting was nothing short of a scratchy sprawl that was just about readable. He lifted the parchment to show Cannibal and Syrax, who had joined the bird on the floor.

'Aemond and Vhagar?'

Cannibal squawked loudly, jumping in the air, covering his head in an almost facepalm.

Jace's brows were furrowed in evident confusion as he watched Cannibal try to get his point across again.

He hopped to the side, raising his wing over his head, feathers arranged to mimic your hair.

'Y/N?'

Cannibal nodded with another squawk before continuing.

He walked a few steps pretending to be you before resuming his Aemond persona, creeping up behind where he had been you seconds before, once again letting out that strange laugh, his wing patting his chest as though holding something. His other wing stretched out towards where you would be standing, feathers wiggling slightly. From an outside perspective, the sight would look almost comical, but Jace was too concerned over what Aemond could be up to properly notice.

'Aemond's necklace?'

The bird nodded again before flapping to the dresser and grabbing the dinglehopper resting atop it, holding it in one wing and up in the air jabbing it in random directions across the room.

'My mother? Her trident?'

Cannibal dropped the fork, returning to being Aemond once again and picking it up, then miming placing a crown atop his head.

'Aemond is going to steal the throne from my mother?'

Clearly growing impatient, Cannibal flew up to hover in front of Jace's face, squawking loudly at him before returning to the ground and bringing his wings together.

Jace placed the parchment down, his expression clearing as he grabbed the quill again, hand trembling slightly as he brought it down.

'Has he cast a spell on her? So I fail by sunset and he can then use my soul to trap my mother for the throne?'

Cannibal cawed softly, his head bowing in a single nod.

Jace dragged a hand through his curls, his jaw clenching and eyes steeling in resolve. He grabbed Syrax, stuffing the crab in his pocket before bolting out the room, Cannibal hot on his tail.

Upon reaching the port, he placed Syrax down on the ground, his chest heaving in deep breaths from sprinting down there. The setting sun was cast on the water's surface, making it seem like liquid gold. The boat, your wedding boat, was sailing towards the horizon.

Before the sun sets on the third day...

He didn't have much time, but he knew he had to at least try to save you from Aemond, even if he couldn't save himself.

Without hesitating, he leaped rather clumsily into the water, hearing Cannibal's squawk of alarm before sinking into the cold depths below.

It was a strange feeling, opening his eyes to the stinging rush of the water blinding him, arms flailing to keep himself afloat and break through the surface to breathe. He had no co ordination in his legs, which desperately kicked out beneath him to propel himself upwards.

He couldn't swim.

He suddenly felt himself being pushed upwards towards the surface, soon feeling the sun's dwindling warmth as he broke through, letting out choked splutters as oxygen filled his lungs again. Cannibal was hovering overhead, Syrax now balanced on one of the many barrels she had no doubt cut free to help support him, and Vermax appeared beside him, guiding him towards it.

He nodded in thanks to his companion, holding onto the barrel and resting his head against it as he caught his breath, wet curls plastered on his forehead.

Syrax dived beneath the water. When she resurfaced, she had the rope tied around the barrel between her claws, which she then tied around Vermax, pointing towards the boat. Jace began to kick out with his legs to help his friend while Cannibal flew off, loudly screeching as he did so. Jace's gaze was fixed on the boat, his kicks growing more and more forceful.

Syrax watched them for a short while, making sure they were on track to hopefully reach the boat in time before diving underwater once again and swimming in a different direction to find Rhaenyra.

The boat had seemed to come to a stop, making Jace and Vermax's journey that much easier. But as they grew closer to the grand vessel, far more impressive than the ship he had saved you from what now seemed like years ago, the soft melodies from the musicians sent a ripple of sickness through him.

The ceremony must have begun.

He had hoped that he could find you alone without involving any of your people. He didn't want to expose he or Aemond to them. That could give Daemon the excuse he needed to declare war on the surface, and he had enough issues to deal with as it was.

But you were the priority for the moment.

One problem at a time.

If he had to interrupt the ceremony and attract the entire kingdom's attention, that's what he would do.

Vermax pulled him to where the anchor was docked so he could grab the chain to pull himself up towards the deck. The metal dug uncomfortably into his palms, but he held on tightly nonetheless as he turned to his closest companion, giving him a small smile. He held out a hand for the fish to lean his head against for a moment before beginning to climb.

Whether that would be a bittersweet farewell or a simple a brief goodbye would remain to be seen.

Every one of his muscles ached and burned with fatigue as he continued his climb, but he still persisted, fuelled by his determination to save you from Aemond's clutches. He glanced down as he reached the deck, only to find Vermax gone, the barrel floating away, the rope untied, the water directly beneath him rippling slightly from someone- or thing- sinking beneath the surface.

Jace peered over the top of the deck, watching as you walked down the aisle. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you, of how breathtaking you looked. Any warmth he felt from seeing you disappeared when his gaze moved to where Aemond stood waiting for you, a small, yet rather smug, smirk on his face, arms clasped behind his back. His platinum locks were half tied back out of his face, a leather patch covering his scarred eye. He was dressed entirely in black leather, and seemed as though he would be more suited for a funeral rather than a wedding, a stark contrast to your angelic beauty.

Following you was Max, carrying a blue velvet cushion in his mouth to a chorus of aws from the crowd. He placed the cushion between you and Aemond, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he glared up at the latter. Yet you just stood there, staring blankly straight ahead. Aemond glanced towards the crowd for a moment before gesturing to the officiant to begin.

"Dearly beloved..."

Seeing everyone distracted, Aemond took that opportunity to kick Max away, the dog whimpering softly but appearing unharmed as he stalked away to sit by Grimsby. As Aemond had raised his leg, a flash of metal caught Jace's attention, and he just about managed to see a glimpse of the dragon glass dagger strapped to Aemond's side beneath his overcoat. His hands gripped the side of the ship tightly, cheeks flushed scarlet in anger as he watched Aemond grab your hands tightly, his eye raking your figure in a most sinful way, practically undressing you with his eyes.

Swinging a leg over the side of the boat, Jace crept onto the deck of the boat as quietly as he could, crouching down to sneak behind the back row.

"Do you, Aemond, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Jace heard Aemond reply, an air of smugness in his tone. And he had every right to be. The sun was nearly set beneath the horizon. Jace wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do, but he needed to act now.

A soft squawk above Jace alerted the prince, and he glanced up to see Cannibal flying overhead, followed by an entire flock of gulls. Jace followed the bird's gaze to where Aemond was stood, too engrossed by you to notice.

Until they dove towards him, that is, attacking on his left side.

Aemond managed to duck before they reached him though, glaring at the flock as they circled back around, no doubt for a second attempt.

The distraction allowed for Jace to edge around to the opposite side of the boat to get towards you. As he crept closer and closer, he heard cries of alarm in the crowd, followed by a scream as a heard of sea lions flopped onboard.

Jace ducked down behind a chair to avoid Aemond's gaze, the guests having since ran from their seats to escape the animal's path, leaving you and Aemond stood at the alter. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jace saw your guards raise their weapons to the animals.

He pushed the chair out of the way, standing between them and the sea lions, hands outstretched as he frantically shook his head at them.

"Stop! Don't shoot!" Grimsby had pushed his way to the front of the crowd. "Do not shoot. They won't harm her!"

"You!"

Jace turned to meet Aemond's glare, trying not to let the way you had grabbed your captor's arm for protection get to him.

'She is under a spell. She doesn't love him', he reminded himself, but it stung all the same.

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment a circling pelican swooped down and dump its full beak of water on top of Aemond, drenching him completely. Aemond opened his good eye, his lips pressed into a thin line. There was a still silence so thick that even the strongest of swords could struggle to cut through.

Once again, Aemond opened his mouth to speak, but all that left his mouth was a yelp of pain as Max bit down on his leg. He kicked out his leg in an attempt to wrestle the dog off of him, but the animal's jaws were like a vice.

"Max! Max, let go now!" You yelled, glaring down at the dog, who slowly loosened his hold on Aemond, shrinking away from you.

Aemond smirked at Jace, despite his appearance, gesturing to the nearly disappeared sun.

Jace stepped towards you, his hand reaching out to brush against your upper arm. You turned to face him, the expression on your face one of pure indifference. Max crept behind jace, nuzzling against his other hand for comfort.

"Yes?" You raised an eyebrow.

Jace desperately searched his mind for anything, anything, that he could do to break Aemond's hold. But how could he? He wasn't educated in magic. He knew nothing of it. And he couldn't even try to talk to you in hopes of getting through to you.

A loud, shrill squawk behind you cause both you and Jace's gaze to turn to where Aemond had now grabbed Cannibal by the throat, the bird's beak clamped down on his pendant, glowing a vivid sapphire blue.

Of course.

The realisation dawned on Jace.

Aemond's source of magic.

He moved past you, crashing into Aemond and sending the both of them crashing to the floor. Upon impact, Aemond let go of Cannibal, sending the bird flying along with the pendant, which landed on the ground. Separated from the user of its magic, it shattered on impact with the boat's deck. From the shards of dragon glass arose a small ball of blue light, Jace's voice singing that song echoing from within as it floating towards him, leaving a small plume of blue smoke in its wake.

Jace watched as your hand came to clutch your head, your eyes flashing a vivid blue for a moment as the spell over you broke. You glanced down at your dress, before looking back up, a look of pure confusion on your face. Aemond had staggered to hit feet, glaring at Jace.

He let the voice float towards him, his voice growing louder the closer it came, circling around him and rising upward until it reached his throat, the light fading but the song growing stronger, this time coming from Jace.

Gone was the burning pain in his throat whenever he would open his mouth, or the constant sore hoarseness that brewed at the back of his mouth. Instead, he finally felt complete. There wasn't the feeling of having a sort of compression inside of him, the barrier had been lifted.

He turned to you, a smile spreading across his face as you stepped towards him, that usual warmth in your eyes replacing the vacantness that Aemond had created.

You came to stand in front of him. "Jace? It... it was really you?" Your voice was quiet, but thick with emotion.

Jace reached out, taking your hand in his slightly trembling on. "It's me."

You smiled warmly up at him. "I knew it," You whispered. "A part of me... it knew you were the one." Your grip on his hand tightened slightly as you pulled him closer towards you.

"Y/N, get away from him," Aemond growled, but you didn't listen. You didn't even grant him the courtesy of looking in his direction, keeping your eyes locked with Jace's.

"Y/N, I wanted to tell you... I couldn't he..." Jace tried to explain, but you shushed him, his forehead resting against yours.

"It's okay, Jace. It's okay," You whispered, taking his head in your hands.

"Y/N, no!"

Jace's ignored Aemond, his gaze flickering briefly down to your lips. He knew he needed to kiss you, but couldn't bring himself to do it without you wishing it. But you smiled, giving him a nod, tilting your head towards him slightly.

Jace leaned forwards, his lips a breath away from yours when a searing pain cut straight up his legs, causing him to crumple to the ground in your arms.

"Jace? Jace, what's wrong?" You asked. "Your leg?"

"No, no don't..." He weakly pleaded as you rolled his trouser leg up

He gritted his teeth in pain, his entire body tensed as he watched the skin on his legs shed into scales.

"What the... you're... you're a merman?" You whispered, eyes widened in shock.

"I tried to tell you..." Jace replied, ripping his trousers off to free his fully reformed tail. "I'm... I'm sorry..."

"Jace..."

"You're too late, nephew."

Jace looked up as Aemond came to stand in the centre of the deck, the triumphant smirk returning to his face. "You're too late," He chuckled darkly thunder rumbling overhead. A bolt of blue lightning crashed down and struck Aemond directly, and when the flash faded, Aemond had also returned to his natural form, those six tentacles replacing his legs to a chorus of gasps from the crowd.

One of his tentacles suddenly shot out and grabbed Jace by the tail, dragging him towards the edge of the boat and throwing him overboard.

"Leave him alone!" You yelled, rising to your feet and moving to follow them, but Aemond's tentacles kept you back.

"I apologise that our union was rudely interrupted, ñuha dārilaros," He smirked at you, one tentacle wrapping around your waist and pulling you to him as he ripped off his eyepatch to reveal the sapphire underneath. He knew that you would not look upon it with disgust like everyone else did. "But do not worry..." He continued, another tentacle creeping under your dress and up your leg. As the tip brushed against your clothed cunt, you let out a small gasp, causing his smirk to widen. "I will return for you soon... and I have every intention of making you mine..."

And with that, he released you and dove overboard.

Jace hadn't managed to swim far.

Not with Vhagar circling the shape, the massive beast circling him, trapping him for when Aemond joined them, that blue eye of hers glowing dimmer than before, but still glowing nonetheless.

"Poor, poor prince," Aemond's mocking tone alerted Jace to his arrival. "Poor little nephew."

"Do not mock me, uncle!" Jace exclaimed, hands clenched into fists by his side as Vhagar disappeared into the kelp below. "You cheated."

"Hm..." Aemond tilted his head to the side. "I do not recall our contract saying that I could not interfere. Love comes with its challenges and I merely wished-"

"No. You wanted her and used me to get to her. And then so you could kill me!" Jace interrupted.

"Don't be so dramatic, nephew," Aemond smirked, a tentacle grabbing his arm to pull him along behind him. "It is not even you that I am after. Not really anyway. There's a much bigger fish that I have to-"

"Aemond!"

The exiled prince's smirk widened as he turned to face Rhaenyra, her trident pointing directly at his throat.

"Sister," He greeted. "How are you?"

"Let my son go." She demanded, her eyes alight with a fire that concealed the worry behind them.

"Not a chance, sister," Aemond replied, his hold on Jace tightening. "He's mine now. We made a deal." His voice progressively grew in its mocking tone as he brandished the gold scroll with Jace's contract on. Rhaenyra's gaze scanned the scroll, her expression contorting to one of horror.

"I-I'm sorry, mother! I... I'm sorry, he-"

"Hush now, nephew. Can you not see we are having a conversation?" Aemond interrupted him, another tentacle wrapped around Jace's mouth to silence him. "Now, sister, where were we?"

Rhaenyra glared at Aemond, and pointed her trident at where the scroll was dangling from his grasp, a jet of gold light striking it with the intention of destroying it, but instead it harmlessly rebounded, the scroll now glowing bright blue.

"You see, sister? The contract's legal. Binding and completely unbreakable," Aemond replied smugly. "Even for you." He smirked, knowing he had her trapped. This was a plan, years in the making, finally being executed. And it was so satisfying for Aemond to watch unfold. "Of course, I always was someone with an eye for a bargain, so to speak. And the son of the great, powerful queen of the oceans is a rather precious commodity, do you not think?"

He relaxed his tentacles, both the contract and Jace being released, but before the prince could swim to Rhaenyra, the scroll stretching and fading into blue light which then surrounded Jace, spinning around him like a tornado.

"But, I also consider myself as reasonable, and I could be willing to make an exchange for someone... for something... even better..." Aemond added, a tentacle reaching out towards Rhaenyra's crown, making her flinch away from him in disgust.

"If you think..." Rhaenyra began, but when her gaze shifted to Jace, she faltered.

The light surrounding Jace had grown brighter as it slowly drained his strength, the prince beginning to shrink, his face hollowing and skin shrivelling. Yet he still managed to shake his head at his mother, despite knowing that it would likely prove pointless.

Aemond smirked at the sight, a new contract appearing before Rhaenyra. "Do we have a deal?"

"Mother... don't..." Jace gasped out, but Rhaenyra simply gave her son a small smile, raising her trident once again and with another flash of gold, her name was signed at the bottom.

"It's done," Aemond murmured, the scroll rolling itself up and disappearing. He waved his hand, and the blue whirlpool surrounding Jace grew and moved to instead enclose around Rhaenyra. The light burned harsher, shrinking and shrinking before dissipating to reveal Rhaenyra, once the proud ruler of Atlantica, nothing more than another soul claimed by Aemond, a grotesque creature identical to the hundreds of others trapped in Aemond's lair.

Jace swam over to where Rhaenyra was, her sad eyes gazing up at him as he shook his head. "Mother... I'm so... oh gods, I'm so sorry..." He bowed his head, eyes squeezed shut. When he lifted his head, Syrax had joined him, her whole form bowed down before her companion, who could only stare.

Aemond chuckled cruelly at Jace, lifting Rhaenyra's crown to place atop his own head. "At last... it's mine.." He murmured, lifting the trident as Jace turned to glare up at him.

"You are not even the heir!"

"I will be by the rising of dawn, taoba!" Aemond snarled in response. "When I eradicate Rhaenyra's entire lineage, the throne will be mine."

"Then Aegon will-"

"You think my drunken fool of a brother would dare oppose me?" Aemond tilted his head to the side. "Naïve, nephew. So naïve."

"You're a monster!" Jace spat at him, lunging forwards, but Aemond's tentacle smacked into him and sent him flying to the seafloor.

"Monster? No, nephew. A monster is the fool who banished me when her brat of a son removed my eye. A monster is the so called just and noble queen who banished me for demanding retribution for my permanent scarring. A monster... is responsible for the death of my mother, and she sealed the fate she is now subject to the day she sent me away." He pointed the trident towards Jace. "So don't you think for a second, nephew, that you can fool with me by branding me the monster. You foolish, little-" Aemond suddenly let out a grunt of pain, his free hand flying to where blood clouded the water from the graze on his upper arm.

Jace looked behind his uncle, spotting you several metres away, glaring at Aemond. Beside Jace, was a spear lodged into the seabed.

"Y/N, get back to the surface-" Jace began, but a tentacle clamped back around his mouth.

Aemond sent his nephew a small smirk as he raised his trident towards you. "What do you think nephew? Hm, it is tempting. However... even if someone doesn't seem to love you at first, there are other ways that you can claim them mentally... and physically." His lips curled into a grin as you shrank back slightly. "Yes, I can just put her under my spell again, and in time, she may return my love for her. But whether she does or doesn't is irrelevant... she'll be mine... and never yours, nephew."

Jace once again lunged towards Aemond, but was pinned down by several more tentacles.

"Oh nephew, do not humiliate yourself," He smirked, moving the trident slowly. Your gaze followed its path to where the ship was floating above the water a distance away, your face contorting into one of pure anger. You immediately began swimming as fast as you could to the surface.

"Vhagar, tolī zirȳla!" Aemond exclaimed, his beast emerging from the undergrowth on his orders. [after her]

Jace thrashed around, but his restraints held firm, rendering him helpless. He could only watch as you broke the surface for a mere moment, managing to splutter out something towards the boat before Vhagar dragged you back down again, her tail wrapping around you like a boa constrictor.

"I wish for you to witness this, ," Aemond said to you, once again pointing his trident to the ship. "I love you... but that does not mean I cannot hurt you."

Jace desperately strained against Aemond's hold, managing to break his arm free. He leaned forward, using all of his strength to grab the only thing he could.

Aemond's hair.

He yanked on it as hard and fast at he could, causing Aemond to grunt in pain as his head was rapidly pulled back, knocking him off balance just as the trident glowed gold, causing a flash to shoot out from the trident away from the boat. Instead, it struck Vhagar directly in the heart, causing the beast to explode into nothing more than a few shredded scales that floated to the seabed.

"No... Vhagar..." Aemond breathed, outstretching his hand to where she was, her scales falling onto his hand.

Jace pushed the tentacles off of him, hurriedly swimming over to where you were once again making your way to the surface. He pushed you upwards, one hand resting on your waist as he helped you.

You let out a choked gasp as you grabbed ahold of the small rowboat you had used to reach Jace, letting out a series of coughs.

Jace kept his hold on your waist. "Are you alright?" He asked worriedly, and you nodded in response, air filling your lungs.

"Yes... yes I... I'm fine..."

"Y/N, you need to get out of her," Jace urged.

"No, Jace-"

"You don't understand-"

"I can't leave you!" You insisted, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. "I'm not leaving you..."

"Y/N, I-" Jace began, but his gaze travelled to the water surrounding you both.

Even with just the silver glow of the moon and the distant light from the boat, he could tell it was clouded black with ink.

"Y/N... you need to get back to the ship-" Jace began, but a trembling beneath you both stopped him in his tracks.

"Jace, what-" You let out a gasp as you and Jace were both lifted from the water, separated by the spike of a crown. You gripped hold of the metal tightly, refusing to look away from Jace as Aemond emerged from the water.

"Jump!" Jace yelled, reaching over and grabbing her hand, the both of them leaping down beneath the waves.

Jace immediately pulled you protectively behind him as you stared up at Aemond towering above you. He must have been at least twenty feet tall, his eyes alight with pure, unbridled fury.

"You are a fool, nephew," He sneered at Jace, voice deep and booming louder than any thunder that rumbled in the storm clouds overheard. A tentacle came crashing down between the two of you, causing Jace to push you away out of its path.

"I now rule the ocean, Jacaerys! Even the waves obey my every whim! The sea, and all it's spoils will now bow to my power. And you... you will face my wrath," A wide grin now appeared on his face as he raised the trident and brought it down into the water, circling it around Jace to create a whirlpool around the prince sending him spiralling to the seabed, the water ensnaring him, trapping him on a rock. Lightning lit up the sky, the waves growing more violent, sweeping you further and further away from Jace and closer towards Aemond. All around you, wrecked ship broke through the surface, the barnacle encrusted wood rotting and the faded sails torn.

You grabbed ahold of a ship that swept by, holding onto the wood as tightly as you could, small splinters digging into the flesh of your palm. As the ship swerved away from Aemond, you took the opportunity to climb aboard. It seemed relatively newer than the other resurfaced wreckages, despite it's dire condition. Grabbing ahold of the wheel that was spinning out of control, you looked over to where Aemond was shooting lightning down at Jace from the trident.

"Just hold on a little while longer, Jace," You murmured, turning the wheel with the current and towards Aemond. Fortunately for you, the waves were heading directly towards him, the strong winds propelling you forward.

"Come now, nephew. You cannot evade this fate!" Aemond taunted. "Do not worry, I will take good care of her. So much for your true love, hm?"

He raised the trident once again, but before he could bring it down upon Jace, you steered the boat directly into him, the bowsprit, jagged from being broken, impaling him directly in the gut. Aemond yelled out in pain as you jumped off the ship, swimming away as fast as you could against the current. Turning back for a moment, you saw Aemond fall back as lightning shot through him, his eyes rolling back as he sank beneath the waves with a violent crash, sending a mass tidal wave that swept you along with it. You were smothered by the wave, only managing to resurface for long enough to take another gasp of air before being dragged under again.

You waited it out, managing to stay afloat as the wave calmed, treading the water as you looked behind you for any sight of Jace.

But all you saw was dark blue smoke billowing upwards towards the sky.

You let out a deep breath, keeping your head above the water as you kicked towards the beach, visibly close. The moment your feet made contact with the seabed, you practically crawled onto the sand, every muscle, every bone, every cell in your body completely exhausted.

"Y/N!"

Your head turned to the side to see Grimsby and Max running towards you from further down the beach, the ship a short distance away. The wave must have swept them up as well.

"Grim..." You murmured, gripping onto his arm tightly as he helped you to your feet, Max jumping up at you, glad that you were back to being yourself again. You gave him a soft smile, gently stroking his head.

"Oh heavens. Y/N, are you alright?"

"Fine..." You replied, glancing down at your tattered dress, completely soaked through.

"Come, now, princess. We must get you in a warm bath, and fresh clothes-"

"No! Grimsby, I need to wait for Jace and see if he's okay."

"Y/N, as your closest advisor, I strongly... well... advise... that you at least get some food in your stomach."

You sighed, still staring out at the horizon.

"If you survived, I have no doubt that he did as well," Grimsby said gently.

"Fine," You muttered. "I'll go and change. But you're staying here to look out for him."

"A-as you wish... but Y/N, will you not need help to get to the castle-"

"No," You replied firmly, already trudging up to the castle, your bare feet dragging slightly on the sand, Max right on your heels.

Carlotta was anxiously waiting by the castle gates upon your arrival, rushing over to you and immediately fussing over your rather bedraggled appearance. You brushed her off, walking to your chambers to change.

You felt sick to the stomach at the white shirts, the blue dresses and black trousers... anything in those colours that only reminded you of Aemond... of what he had done...

You threw them out of your wardrobe, ordering Johanna to wash them and take them into town to donate to anyone who needed them.

"May I make a suggestion, princess?" Carlotta spoke up.

"I would appreciate that," You sighed.

"I have the perfect one for you," She smiled knowingly, waiting for you to step aside so she could reach into the wardrobe, taking a hanger from the rail and holding it up to you. "Well? What do you think, princess?"

"I think..." You murmured, cocking your head to the side in contemplation. "That it's perfect."

Jace had watched as the whirlpool around him disappeared. He had seen Aemond collapse, watched as he sank out of view. Swimming to where he had fallen, he found his uncle, now back to his usual size, a rather large wound to his abdomen staining the water with a reddish hue. He reached down, taking the crown off his head, looking down at it.

He couldn't imagine it atop his head.

Feeling a warm hand rest on his shoulder, he turned to find his mother, restored to her full self, smiling down at him.

"Mother..." He murmured. "I... I'm so..." He bowed his head, letting out a deep breath. "I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, Jace," Rhaenyra tilted his chin upwards. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away. Destroyed you beautiful collection. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me," He whispered, immediately being pulled into her warm embrace. He immediately wrapped his arms around her tightly. When they broke apart, he reached down to where the trident laid several feet away from Aemond, holding it out to his mother, who took it from him with an appreciative smile.

"I can't... become king..." He sighed. "Not... not here."

"I know, my darling," Rhaenyra sighed, her free hand resting on his cheek. "The matter of my heir will be settled in due time-"

"Baela would be a good candidate," Jace spoke up.

"Indeed she would," Rhaenyra softly smiled.

"Jace? You're alive!" Luke exclaimed as he swam over.

"Luke, I told you to stay at the palace."

"I did, mother. I stayed for half an hour, and then left to follow you," He replied, faltering slightly as he saw Aemond's corpse. He stared down at the body, letting out a small scoff. "Well thank the gods," He muttered.

"Luke," Rhaenyra warned.

"He was a monster, mother. He tried to kill me!"

"Well, he's dead now. Thanks to your brother."

"Actually, it wasn't me," Jace piped up. "It was Y/N's."

"Y/N?"

Jace sighed, glancing up to where the water's surface was glowing orange with the dawn.

"Jace?"

"I need to show you something."

"Jace... if this is going where I think it is-"

"Please," Jace's eyes were pleading. "Please, mother."

Rhaenyra shared a glance with Luke, who nodded in encouragement. She let out a small sigh. "Very well."

Jace could sense Rhaenyra apprehension as they looked out towards the beach, the rocky shore that had greeted him after making his deal with Aemond separating them from the land.

"Is that her?" Luke asked, pointing towards where you were hurrying down the beach. All Jace could do was nod in response, his lips parted slightly as he gazed at you in awe.

You were dressed in a glittering red gown, the bottom of the skirt grasped in your hand. It had thin straps across your shoulders and a cowl neckline, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was loose, and still damp, your face void of any makeup, those ruby earrings you bought at the market dangling from your ears.

And to Jace, you had never looked more beautiful.

"Nice," Luke grinned with an approving nod, earning a glare from both his mother and older brother. "She's pretty..." He mumbled.

Jace swam forward, hoisting himself up on a rock, the very same rock that he sat on when he'd saved you on your birthday. He watched you walk along the beach, your gaze fixed on the horizon, Max barking happily at your feet.

"What is that?" Luke exclaimed. "It's all... weird and hairy!"

"Hush now, Luke," Rhaenyra murmured, her gaze resting on her eldest son. There was a soft smile on her face, but her eyes were brimmed with sadness. "He really does love her, doesn't he?"

"Must do," Luke replied. "I mean, he was ready to sell us to Aemond for her so... ow!" He yelped as Syrax, who had joined them on a nearby rock, pinched his arm in disapproval.

"He does, doesn't he?" Rhaenyra repeated her question, this time directing it towards her companion, who nodded in response.

"I was never truly permitted to be free and lead my own life," She mused. "It was expected of me to take the throne, I was raised for it. And there was no other worthy heir to claim it in my stead. It is just a shame... that it took him going to Aemond of all people to make me realise that I should not expect my children to suffer that same fate." She nodded to herself. "I suppose only one problem that remains..."

"And... what is that?" Luke asked, gently rubbing his reddened arm from where Syrax had pinched him.

"How much I am going to miss him..." She sighed.

Luke gazed up at his mother as she lowered the tip of the trident down on the oceans surface, casting a small ripple that grew as it came closer to Jace, the water surrounding the rock glowing gold.

Jace looked down as the gold consumed his tail, turning back to his mother in shock that soon turned into a soft smile as the light consumed him.

Max let out an excited bark, taking off down the beach, you hot on his tail.

You stepped into the water, the gentle waves lapping around your ankles and your free hand coming to shield your eyes from the bright light. When it faded, you expected to see Jace, but you were greeted with nothing.

Your shoulders heaved in a silent sigh, your head shaking in disappointment as you turned away, but Max letting out another bark caused you to turn back, a wide smile spreading across your face.

Jace emerged from beneath the waves. He was walking towards you on legs, dressed in a crisp white shirt and burgundy trousers, his chocolate brown curls fluttering in the sea breeze.

The moment he laid eyes on you, he broke out into a run, with you rushing towards him as well, throwing yourself into his arms. Jace lifted you up and span your around, his hold on you tight, as though you would slip from his grasp again.

But you weren't going to let go.

When he placed you back on the ground, Max excitedly circling around you both as you took his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his.

Jace immediately sank into the kiss, his heart fluttering.

"I love you," He murmured as you broke apart, his forehead resting on yours.

You smiled, hands sliding upwards to tangle in his curls. "And I love you, Jace. So much," You whispered.

A/N: One more part left...

…All I'm going to say is I hope you enjoyed the sweetness of this ending because Aemond's ending is going to be complete filth.

Hint: it involves tentacles.

Masterlist

Tag list:

@thekittyxo-blog @iamavailablesstuff @eggofpower @thatbitchanna27 @aleemendoza2425-blog @ekavamonfort @rhaenattargaryen @ewwwitsel @marytargaryen @snowprincesa1 @bes2005 @audigay @whodis-26 @sweethoneyblossom1 @smayhem @yeahright0h @itlover8000 @hiraethrhapsody @bellstwd @xxvelvetxxxx @jacesvelaryons @aj3684 @watercolorskyy

If you want to be added to the tag list for this story, for any characters or my hotd fics in general, feel free to ask

#House of the dragon #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon imagine #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon imagine #Aemond Targaryen #Aemond Targaryen imagine #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader x Aemond Targaryen

[twst-drabbles]

Jamil 14

Summary: He attempts to close the distance and yet always pulls away at the last moment, as though trying to protect his heart from anymore hurt. You guess you’ll have to make the first move, just so he knows you don’t mind if he seeks you out for intimacy.

(In a monster lover mood. And in a Jamil mood. So, Sanctuary Jamil is gonna get the kiss he’s been craving.)

Honestly, if there was anything that Jamil wanted, you’d probably give without a second thought.

You didn’t mind when, in the kitchen while preparing for dinner, Jamil drifted his tail around your walking space. You didn’t mind when, in a fit of sputtering laughter, Jamil leaned his weight right on your shoulder and shuddered in a breath. You didn’t even mind when Jamil touched the tips of your fingers.

You didn’t mind at all. But, Jamil keeps retreating. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it weren’t for that. His pauses, his hesitation, his pulling back, there was something tender growing within Jamil. And this tenderness scares him. Or, perhaps he’s scared that this tenderness would frighten you? Well, either way…

Jamil’s tail would twitch then slide right back behind him. Jamil’s would gasp right next to your ear and stand up away from you. Jamil’s hand would stiffen and drift away from you.

You didn’t say anything solely because Jamil would never say sorry. He wouldn’t acknowledge it, preferring to ignore it altogether. You’re not immature, you know not to take any hurt from this. All this was not made with the intention to hurt, it’s the result of Jamil being hurt and scarred.

So you didn’t push for anything. You didn’t turn around and demand Jamil acknowledge anything, because you know this familiar and you know that he would retreat fully into himself. You don’t care for a tender heart by exposing it to the one it beats for most. You wait, you beckon, and you lead.

“Come here,” you didn’t grab at Jamil’s hand, you lightly tapped at his finger tips and let go just as easily.

“Oh? Do you need me for something?” His speech was entirely normal, but his gaze was focused on his hand. He was quick to recover.

“Nothing that will take too much time,” you opened the door to your bedroom, “I know you have quite a bit of cleaning to do.”

Jamil spine straightened just a bit. He’s been in your room plenty of times and yet, whatever is going on in his head, it made him stiff. You chuckled as you walked in with him, and Jamil’s eyes refused to settle on your face. His very small, almost shuddering, fond sigh reaffirmed what you suspected. He won’t run off and hide.

“Take a seat,” you gestured to your bed after sitting on it, “I want to do something.”

Any other person and you’re sure Jamil would ask for specifics. You know he hates nothing more than being involved in things that he doesn’t have the details for.

But he sat without question. You don’t dare assume that he did that out of ignorance or pure blind trust. The darkness of the room, the close pressing of your shoulder to his, the intimate privacy and just your tantalizing vagueness, you’re very sure Jamil suspects something.

But he’s still afraid. Afraid of crossing this boundary that he probably thinks you have, of permanently changing this easy back and forth that allowed Jamil peace of mind. Did he think you would be disgusted by his affection? That he would one day go too far and you’d snap him back into reality with an uncomfortable and apologetic smile?

“I’m going to be selfish, for a moment,” you brushed your hands on the sides of Jamil’s face. You felt him jump but he didn’t wretch himself away. Rather than reach in and yank his feelings out into the open, it’s better to frame it as though you’re the one that wants more, so that if something horrible happens, Jamil can blame you all he likes. “Do you mind?”

His eyes were wide and his breath almost gone. Then he calmed down, settling into the rhythm you’re trying to lead him in. His eyes calmed from their frantic shaking, his lids lowering as he lost himself in your hands.

“No,” his words were a whisper, afraid to break this moment as you guided Jamil to lean closer, to press his forehead against yours, “If you want to be more selfish, then you can take my entire being. I won’t mind at all.”

“Don’t regret it, then,” and you lightly closed the distance, dropping a light peck just to test the grounds of what’s too much and what’s not for Jamil.

You were worried for nothing. In his eagerness, Jamil jumped forward and pressed further into the kiss. You had to pull back to laugh for a moment before pulling Jamil right back in. He must have been holding back too long. How cute.

You’ll let him indulge for as long as he wants. You adore him too much not to.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #scarabia #drabble #jamil #jamil viper #sanctuary au #reader insert

[the-sage-libriomancer]

Shigure's relationship with Kyo drives me crazy. he doesn't hate Kyo in the slightest - in fact, he pities Kyo, and not in the condescending "oh you poor little boy, cursed to be a horrible, disgusting monster" sort of way that everyone else does. Shigure pities Kyo for the reason he should be pitied: he's just a kid caught up in a system so inhumane it can't possibly be survived without some seriously unhealthy coping mechanisms.

and it drives me crazy because - listen, Shigure is the only zodiac member who's emotionally aware enough to see the other zodiac members as exactly what they are. he knows Yuki is a severely traumatized kid who projects all of his self-hatred on a single convenient target. he knows Akito is really a scared little girl with a raging god complex (literally) and no concept of a healthy relationship. and he knows Kyo is a regular-ass human being who doesn't deserve to be locked up for the rest of his life just because some arbitrary system says so. he KNOWS it's stupid. he KNOWS it's ridiculous and unfair. and he has to share a house with Kyo knowing that Kyo is living with a sword over his head, hating himself and hating others in perfect tandem because he has no other way of coping with the insane amounts of negativity he's had to deal with his entire life.

but the thing about Shigure is that he KNOWS all of this, and the same time he doesn't really CARE. he feels sorry for Kyo, but an apathetic sort of pity, a disinterested "this is how it is. such a shame." sort of pity. in some ways he's worse than the other zodiacs because he DOES see Kyo as a person, someone he likes being around even, but he still considers Kyo below his attention because all his focus is on Akito and breaking the curse. and sure, once the curse is broken Kyo will theoretically be set free with the rest of them, but that's more of a coincidental side effect than anything. despite being in a much more dangerous and precarious mental space AND comfortably in Shigure's reach, Kyo is about as much a priority for Shigure as Ritsu or Momiji.

and it drives me CRAZY because i think Shigure does start actively caring about Kyo as the series goes on, but it's hard to tell when that happens and to what extent. when Kazuma told Shigure he planned to reveal Kyo's true form and Shigure said he was going too far - whose sake was it for? was Shigure trying to protect Kyo, who would be hideously traumatized/emotionally scarred by such a cruel betrayal? was he trying to protect Kyo and Tohru's relationship, which was still formulating and might, under such severe testing, ultimately end up damaged beyond repair? was he only trying to protect Tohru, who wasn't ready to be burdened by such a horrible aspect of the curse so soon, or perhaps simply didn't deserve it? or was it all for the sake of himself, trying to protect his still-forming plans of using Tohru's positive effect on the Sohmas to break the curse?

Shigure cares about Kyo, but they're not close and Kyo clearly isn't a priority. he treats Kyo like a person - offering him genuine advice, teasing him like he teases anyone else, even speaking up on his behalf once or twice - and yet he's too entrenched in the long game to spare much active interest in Kyo. for a very long time, he doesn't care about Kyo the way he cares about Yuki or Tohru, and it's never made clear when exactly that changed. and the thing that gets me about this whole situation is that right from the start, Shigure is in a position where he can meet Kyo at his level - as equals, just one human being to another - but he doesn't, because Shigure is a chessmaster, Shigure is someone who observes and calculates, Shigure never steps in unless one of his chess pieces makes a wrong move and he absolutely has to.

it drives me crazy. Shigure drives me crazy. this series drives me so so crazy.

#i think my point here was “shigure sees kyo as an actual human being but still treats him badly” #which is kind of the point of shigure - it's why he's such a gray character #he plays with people's lives like they're toys #but this post actually originated from the realization that shigure doesn't hate kyo in the slightest #(honestly i don't think the majority of the zodiac actually *dislikes* kyo. i think they're just too used to dehumanizing him) #and i was like “okay. so how *does* shigure view kyo?” #and then i thought about it more and went progressively more insane #tbf i think shigure knew he was being immoral in the way he treated kyo #he's incredibly self-aware and knows exactly what he's doing #he just chooses to do it anyway. that's why he calls himself “despicable” #i think the fact that kyo clearly suspects shigure has something more going on under the surface probably didn't help either #it's a very interesting sort of complex #anyway. them #fruits basket #shigure sohma #kyo sohma #analysis #edited for your convenience #(<-capitalized all the names bc it was driving me up the wall)

[angstyantoinette]

Yandere alucard please with a fairy darling?

wrote this while in college and severely sleep deprived :))

to the anon that requested this…very sorry for the delay ^^

Yandere! Alucard x GN Fairy Darling

As a Dhamphir, Alucard has a very confused and conflicted view of his own humanity; how his parent’s’ marriage shaped his life and beliefs, which is evident in his own personal experience in the story.

He is part human, “part monster” (as he puts it), and constantly uses both of his sides to try and compensate for his perceived weaknesses and strengths in order to create a balance.

This obsession with balancing his own personal interests, with the ones that he deems unsafe or safe to everyone else years him apart, and Alucard just doesn’t see the point in continuing his act of doing ‘the right thing’- he has nobody to do it for other than himself and the times that Sypha and Trevor come for a visit.

They keep him grounded, his dear friends and comrades; they help him remember the good times and deeds he has given to the world, to the people who were so close to losing their lives. They help him remember and remain alive in the memories of his sacrifices and pains that he had to overcome to murder his own father- the only one left from his childhood. A time that was idyllic, but secluded, kept away from the world and the rest of the scum that had stolen his mothers life.

Things are getting better, that’s what he thinks, as he sweeps through the rubble of his childhood home, it’s sloping walls and crumbling tapestries serving as a testament to a life long past that he can move on from. Things are getting much more complicated, as he tries to sort though the rubble and the familial ruin.

Alucard tries to move past his hurt and past betrayals, but they somehow always come back to bite at him some more, gnaw at his memories of his childhood and turn them into something beyond his control, beyond his pained comprehension.

It doesn't help much that much of the memorials of his past betrayals lay outside of the castle walls, staring out into the vast woods that surround him; and this isolation is a huge part of precisely why he becomes so attached to his darling.

However you meet each other, whichever way that you sweep into Alucard's life you just may as well be signing yourself away to the devil himself-a fitting analogy given the context of the story.

Alucard himself doesn’t mean to cause harm, not in any sense of the word. Everything that he says, does and thinks is the complete opposite, but while he may not be obviously setting out to cause you harm as a person…it doesn’t mean he realises his actions aren’t always right. He may even be self-aware of that fact, and be greatly pained and paranoid about how he makes you feel.

He doesn’t like the fact that he feels this urge to lock you up in his miserable, spindly castle, keep you and your fairy goodness all to himself. He knows it’s selfish, he knows it disgusting of him and yet he reasons and battle and negotiates with himself to try and justify his feelings and actions towards you.

You can beg, you can plead, you can sob and cry but whatever you do will not save you from this fate. You belong to Alucard, and he loves you so deeply, so dangerously that it makes the both of you feel sick. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make him feel sick enough for him to let you go. Let’s face it, who else will love you like he does?

He doesn’t exactly know how to love you right, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t adore you enough to know that you need to be kept away from the rest of the world. You need to rest, to stay with him whilst he admires your beautiful face, your spectral wings and their incredible patterns and own beauty that can only be described as otherworldly.

His kisses are always so desperate. Like he has never tasted anything like your fear Love before. Alucard knows that you get a bit nervous sometimes, but that’s just because you’re shy, isn’t it? He knows exactly what that’s like, the gut-twisting and the rampant heartbeats that he feels.

He’s probably one of the better yanderes to have, in all likelihood, but Alucard isn’t without his flaws, not in the least. He’s paranoid, deathly. He almost trembles at the idea of you getting out of your room to eat something, as he is insistent in bringing it to you. Just so he can double check those windows again.

And you sit sadly on the bed, in all of your finery and wondrous glory, trying your hardest not to sob as your blonde captor strokes your head and whispers his love for you until the moon is high in the sky and you can hear the birds coo outside. Your pointed ears twitch in tired anticipation, silently begging for the birds to come back, help you out of this nightmare.

The birds keep cooing and each night they get further away. They do not come back to help. You are stuck here, with him, forever.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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#yandere #headcanon #writing #x you #yandere castlevania #yandere adrian tepes #yandere alucard #yandere alucard x reader

[shadowqueenjude]

Lol this is incredibly fucked up and I don’t think Tamlin or Lucien in canon would ever actually do this but it was too freakishly weird not to write. Based on this post by @nocasdatsgay This takes place the day after the Solstice after Lucien gifted Elain those pearl earrings.

Tamlin found his old friend once more in his delapidated manor, looking even more miserable than the face Tamlin saw in the mirror every day. That’s when Tamlin knew it was bad.

His friend, his Lucien, always so bright and witty and strong, reduced to this lifeless thing. Part of it was Tamlin’s own fault. Much of it was his family’s fault. And the rest…well Tamlin guessed it was the Night Court’s fault. He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut to try and control the emotions roiling through him.

Tamlin walked up behind Lucien slumping on the couch. He showed so little reaction that for a moment Tamlin almost thought he couldn’t sense his presence.

“I don’t understand,” Lucien said at last.

Tamlin stilled, listening to the Autumn court male speak.

“I protected her in Hybern. I traversed Prythian for her. I demanded she get sunlight and fresh air from the Inner Circle. I journeyed across the content to seek an army based on her vision. I returned with a retinue complete with her own father, and I fight across the battlefield to reach her, and she asks me to stay in Velaris. Then nothing. Avoids me like the plague. I understand she wasn’t expecting all this and she was in love…but was I not also? Yet I’m trying to make the most of this and she…pushes me away. I learn about her. I gift her garden gloves. I gift her pearl earrings. She loves gardening and pearls. She seems to dislike my gifts. She cringes away. I feel her attention towards that dark angry shadowsinger. He despises me for some reason. I don’t understand. Am I that unlovable?” Lucien seemed to be talking to himself.

Tamlin’s heart strained at the longing and anguish etched on his face. All these years, Tamlin had hid much of his true darkness from Lucien, not wishing him to ever wear that expression. His hopes had been for naught, for there he was. Oh, he wore it so well, but he should never have to bear the burden of this pain. Part of it was Tamlin’s fault; he’d do whatever he could in order to make up for it.

Tamlin swallowed and cleared his throat. “You are not. You’re not unlovable, I mean.” He finished with a whisper, “I love you, Lucien. And I’m so sorry.”

Lucien looked at him then, his mismatched eyes burning with a fire that raised the temperature of the entire room. “Are you her? Are you my mate? Elain?” he demanded with a bitterness that threatened to undo Tamlin’s composure.

Tamlin swallowed. He had sworn to never do this long ago, but he was a different man then. A better one. More whole than he was now. Now he was but a shred of a man, a broken man with a broken throne.

“I could be,” he croaked. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. Monster, a voice hissed in his head. Oath-breaker. Ah well, what was another thing broken?

He didn’t know Elain Archeron’s exact proportions, which was a relief because he didn’t want to violate her. But he remembered her face, and he willed his emerald eyes to transform to that of a fawn’s coat, his hair to darken slightly to a burnished gold, his stature to shorten, his rugged body to grow elegant curves, until he was Elain’s double. Tamlin’s pants, now far too baggie for him, slipped down his body until he was left in his oversized shirt, which hung off his shoulders.

Lucien’s fiery eyes softened, his voice filled with affection and concern as he murmured, “Elain?”

“Lucien,” Tamlin sighed in Elain’s voice. He felt so disgusting, but if it was what Lucien needed to feel comfortable in this very moment, he would do it. Tamlin could do with the comfort himself, lonely as he was now.

“Elain,” Lucien breathed again, one hand tentatively reaching out towards Tamlin-no, Elain. It was Elain he was reaching for; Tamlin had to do well to remember that.

Tamlin couldn’t bring himself to care much longer about propriety when Lucien grabbed his hand and yanked him onto his lap. His breaths became hard and heavy as that hand trailed up his inner thigh.

“I want you so badly,” Tamlin gasped as Lucien’s hand went to the hem of his shirt. Lucien leaned forward, his mouth brushing the spot where Tamlin’s neck met his shoulder. Then it trailed up, up, until he reached his ear, leaving embers in its wake. “Shall I take this off then?” he crooned, tugging on the shirt. “Yes,” Tamlin let out barely, and Lucien slowly began pulling it off, brushing the skin it left exposed as he went. One hand was firmly on Tamlin’s breast as the other lifted the shirt off of his head. Lucien then stared and stared at Tamlin with a fire that had he been standing, would’ve made him weak to the knees.

“The most beautiful faerie I have ever seen,” Lucien whispered, gently pushing Tamlin flat onto the couch. Such pretty words he spoke against his skin as Lucien took his time, starting from the forehead, moving down the slope of his nose, his cheeks, the bow of his lips, his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, skipping over the place Tamlin needed him most, caressing his thighs, his calves, his ankles. Tamlin whined and grabbed Lucien’s head, pulling it between his legs.

Lucien chuckled darkly. “So desperate for me, are you, Elain?”

By the Mother. Tamlin could not help but feel envy. Lucien wanted to do all of this to her. It was beyond him why Elain was still turning Lucien down. Were Tamlin in her place, he would’ve accepted the bond without hesitation.

Mind foggy with pleasure and envy for the lady he was impersonating, Tamlin could only form one word.

“Yes.”

#i’m scared to tag this LOL #lucien vanserra #tamlin #tamcien #elucien #kind of #eltamcien #elain archeron #it’s fucked up #angst #fanfic

[thegnomelord]

Hi, I want to start off by asking how you are doing, and that I loved the monster task force 141 × reader fic and the cyber-punk sagau headcanon’s.

Ok, now into the ask. Can you do a smut fic with Childe where the reader is a sub top and Childe is a dom bottom where Childe whorships cyber-punk readers body running his hands all over readers joints which are bonded so reader can’t touch him while overstimulating and orgasm denying (is reader able to be overstimulated and have orgasm's... if not then forget about those 2 kinks.

Sorry for the long ask.

Kink list to make it clear:

- Body whorship

- Bondage

- Overstimulation?

- Orgasm denial?

Heck yeah my peep, I'm doing better, and it's great that you liked my other stuff, sorry it took this long, med school is a bitch. Hope ya like it:DD

P.S: ya'll are always free to ask me/give me ideas of what to write, i'm gonna be trying to write more from now on.

Pious Worship

CW: NSFW, body worship, bondage, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mild electro play?, SAGAU au! Cyberpunk reader!, Sub Top reader, Dom Bottom Childe, riding, Dom/Sub dynamics, Worshipper Childe, Bondage. NOT proof read lol.

It had taken you a long while to convince him to do this. For all of his devotion he had been... hesitant; To please you was the highest form of reward anyone could dream of receiving, but what you had asked of him felt wrong — the thought of binding you like the heathens who'd fallen for pretty lies made him physically sick, the thought of chaining you, his guide, his light, his Steel Forged God...he couldn't even come up with the proper words to describe the sickening disgust he'd felt in his very bones.

But you are his light, his guide, his merciful creator, so how could he possibly refuse?

Childe is insatiable.

He rides you with wild abandon like a beast in heat, too caught up in the desperate chase for release and the need to please you to care about the strain in his muscles or his burning thighs. He slams his entire body weight down on your cock, moaning and babbling about how perfectly you stretch him out, how you fill him up so perfectly he can feel you in his throat, how happy he is to be the one who pleases you like this.

His heart flutters as you watch him, drawing pleasure from his pleasure rather than from how tightly his body grips you, your arms tied above your head with the finest silk. The corp remade you for warfare, not pleasure. Steel is unfeeling, it can survive more than living flesh, and with your enhancements you barely feel anything besides the hot tightness of his body.

He drinks up the little rumbles of your synthetic voice box he manages to pull when he takes you fully, driving his body to bounce faster on you, racing towards his second release while you are nowhere near your first. He moans whorishly, his fingers dig into your shoulder joints, cock twitching as sperm and electro shoot from his body.

A strangled sound leaves your lips before your body shuts down without notice, voice box giving a mechanical screech as it glitches, every artificial muscle in your frame contracting from the sudden flood of electricity.

"My Grace! Are you- no, no, no, no- please don't be-”

You hear his worried whimpers when your audio receptors finally come back online, your optics shuttering open yet barely able to see anything with the sea of blinking warning screens in your view. You feel his calloused hands on your cheeks, the usually dull sensation now making you shudder as your combatting systems had turned every synthetic sensor up to 11.

“My Grace, please tell me you’re okay, please, I couldn’t have- I didn’t mean to- I-, I-, I-”

He hiccups, and you manage a glitched warble from your frazzled voice box as you assess your internal diagnostics— his electro delusion had shocked you enough to lock your joints in place without damaging the vital life support systems in your core. You should be able to move again when the electricity wears off, your body geared to survive stronger EMP bombs. You tell him such, reaffirming that he hadn't harmed you.

"Oh, my Grace, I am so sorry, please, forgive me!"

He says, tears prickling his eyes as he rises off your cock, pulling a surprised gasp from you when that small sensation nearly makes you cum on the spot, your cock — your whole body — sensitive to the smallest touch.

And Childe gets...giddy.

Not like a child with a new toy, but like Dottore when an experiment is successful.

Childe hung on every sound leaving you, eyes growing wide; Had you thought of this? Had you prepared just for this to happen? For his electro to make it easier to feel, to make it easier for him to worship you? Yes, that must be it!

“My Grace, you are beautiful like this. Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

His voice was a hoarse whisper as he slunk down your body, carefully holding up your leg with steady calloused hands. His lips are dry as he places reverent kisses the metal surrounding your exposed ankle joint. Your metal parts taste no different than the tips of his arrows, like blood and war, but the soft sounds you make from the odd sensation has him wanting to give more.

He doesn't even notice when he cuts his lip on a sharp edge, but aren't you proud of him? Who else would bleed for you like him? His tongue delves into tight little cracks between your pistons and wires where only the smallest of ripperdock tools had ever come. His tongue isn't as small, nor as precise, but the sheer eagerness in his movement has him touching and pressing on the sensitive sensors all the same.

You jolt, or you would if you could, overcome with sensations your body isn't built to process. More warning screens flash in your sight, static pleasure/pain buzzing along faux synapses. His heart all but leaps from his chest as he listens to the sounds you make.

So he redoubles his effort, clever little tongue licking at sensitive sensor arrays, mouthing and sucking on cables until soft frazzled sounds leave your glitched voice box. He can taste coolant on his tongue, his lips tingling with electricity, blood and spit mixing together in his mouth and making your metal parts glisten in the light. He polishes your ankle joint until it shines, before moving up towards your knee, tracing the edge where metal plates meet faux skin.

You're internal cooling system has started at this point, body shaking as best it can. Your sensors don't know how to interpret the sensations, corp augs having been geared for warfare and not worship, so the processors don't even try to categorize the new sensations into neat boxes. Instead you're hit with the full force of it, the feelings flooding your mind, zapping through every neural cell and artificial link.

He's at your hips now, eagerly sucking you off as his clever fingers busy themselves worming and rubbing delicate hardware and artificial ligaments beneath inside your hip joints. You feel like you're on the edge, your release so close you can feel it burning at the base of your cock.

But something is wrong, like a knot or a rock inside your stomach, something that's keeping you from cumming, forcing you to experience these overwhelming sensations. You sob, barely able to think, and his heart soars at making you feel this way, making you feel this pleasure.

He's quick to finish polishing your cock and even quicker to climb up and sink down again. But that only makes the maddening heat burning in your loins worse, every nerve in your augmented body feeling like it's on fire with no sight of release. You can barely see him through the cracks between different warning screens, sensor arrays screaming at you with information your body can't interpret any other way than pure sensation.

"Please, let me do this your Grace."

You watch — you can do nothing but watch — as he takes one of your limp arms. His muscles bulge beneath his skin as he has to work hard to move your arm now that your motors and pistons are momentarily inactive. He smiles at you, mouth opening wide before he puts your fingers in his mouth. Little jolts of sensation run through your body every time his tongue flicks between different joints, teeth scraping along faux skin and metal plates.

He continues to bounce on your cock, unaware of what blissful Hell he's making for you when he pulls your spit shined fingers from his mouth, urgently but carefully pawing at the plates which cover your hidden weaponry in your forearms.

"Your Grace, I'm a fool to demand this of you, but please, let me see them, let me worship you like you're supposed to be worshiped."

He says, eyes wide and pleading, laying desperate kisses at your wrist joint, lips almost burning from how hot your metal parts are becoming. He needs to worship you, all of you, especially the part you usually keep reserved for the battle field and nowhere else.

Your voice box is back online to the point where you can talk, and you know that if you told him, he would happily continue bouncing on your dick until you were finally able to cum, with all notions of his own need forgotten.

But you don't.

For as much as your systems may be screaming at you. For as much as your cooling systems struggle to keep you from overheating. For as much as you desire to cum... you want to please him — the first character you ever wished for, the first you ever mained, your favorite.

The look on his face when you manage to get your weaponry unlocked melts your heart despite the lustful heat in your chest. Your combat systems are blissfully unaware of your true intentions as they power on the pistons and gears in your weapons, making them extend to their proper configuration.

"Thank you, thank you your Grace!"

He breathes, immediately reaching out to trace the sharp points of your weapons with his tongue before he latches on the first joint that connects your weapon with your arm. It makes sensation, neither pain nor pleasure but pure feeling, rush from your arms right down to your dick still balls deep inside him.

Your vocal box glitches a second time, your head moving just an inch as you're subjected to his torturous worship again, and you can only pray that your body is able to move again before you loose your mind to the pure sensations.

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[inevitable-pretty-words]

Content – vampire whumper, sadistic whumper, intimate whumper, vampire whumpee, ex-bloodbag whumpee, mentions of past dehumanization, pet whump and degrading language, non-con touch and kissing, fear of mouth whump (pulling out fangs), which doesn't happen, fear of being manipulated

They could feel Whumper's finger touching their upper teeth, one by one, as they tried not to move and keep Whumper's gaze. Whumper was smiling and their pretty red eyes looked like they were shining and Whumpee couldn't understand what in this weird situation made them feel this way. This wasn't torture, not yet, Whumper was just glaring at their teeth without a single word, as if they were deciding what their next move should be, but the prolonged waiting got on Whumpee's nerves.

"You have such beautiful fangs, you know?" Whumper broke the silence, their words made Whumpee frown involuntarily, as they tried to understand what Whumper meant by this.

Whumper removed their hand from their face, although Whumpee thought they could still feel their unwanted touch, allowing them to speak.

Whumpee closed their mouth and gulped, their face showed only pure confusion.

"What? What... did you say??"

Instead of expected response, they only got a scolding gaze and it didn't take long for them to realize what a mistake they had made.

"I apologize, I really apologize, Master, I was just... I was just surprised by your words and..." Whumper interrupted them, closing their mouth with their hand.

"You had all the right to be surprised, darling." Whumpee was sure they heard laughter in their voice. "I won't punish you this time."

Whumpee frowned again, new word couldn't leave their mind, they couldn't stop repeating in their thoughts how their Master called them. What was happening, really? Was this some kind of a new, sick game, using pretty words to describe them, making them feel so nice, even loved to destroy their stupid hopes shortly after?? They didn't know and it was slowly making them anxious.

Whumper catched their gaze and moved their hand to their hair, making the distance between them too small.

Whumpee didn't dare to lower their gaze, even if they felt increasingly claustrophobic, not just because of how close they both were right now, but because of the constant touch and the look that Whumper kept directing at him that they couldn't really identify.

"You said that... my fangs are... beautiful" they felt strange saying words like that, so unusual, like a fever dream. "What does that mean, Master?"

Whumper smiled.

"Exactly that, darling. They're beautiful. You are beautiful."

Whumpee ignored the irrationality of the whole situation, put aside the questions swirling in their head and tried to focus on what Whumper was going to do next instead. It was more important than why the hell they started calling them "darling", using such a sweet tone reserved only for lovers.

"Are you going to... pull my fangs out?" they said quietly, sudden realization made them shiver.

That's why Whumper had touched their teeth before, that's why they were in such a good mood, because Whumpee was going to be tortured. And their pain was the only thing that made Whumper ecstatic before.

They closed their eyes, unable to continue to look at the monster sitting just in front of them.

"Why do you think so?" Unexpected words made them look at Whumper again. "Of course I'm not, your fangs looks prettier in your mouth, sweetheart."

They couldn't stand it any longer.

"What's with those names?!" they dared to say, forgetting to use the word "Master" again. "I'm sorry, I.. I mean, why... why are you calling me that, Master?"

Whumper smiled.

"What, don't you like it?" they teased, confusing them even more, if it was even possible.

"I... I do, I guess? But... I wonder what in my behavior made... made you change your approach to me, Master. I... used to be your pet, right? Your bloodbag, your... your filthy, disgusting human" they spat out the words as if they were burning them. "And now you're calling me darling..." they mumbled, too lost in their thoughts to try to understand them on their own.

Whumper placed their other hand on their cheek and brought Whumpee's face even closer to them. And although their unwanted dirty touch made them want to move away as far as possible, they were grateful that they could feel it instead of the pain.

"Yes. You were exactly like that."

Whumpee grimaced.

"But you aren't a pitiful human now. I turned you. You're more than that."

Whumper brought their face even closer, so that Whumpee could see the small black spots in their bloody eyes.

"I made you so perfect."

Whumpee felt the first kiss on their cheek. They tried with all their might not to move away, to please their Master.

"I destroyed you, made you into a perfect pet, just to turn you into something even better later."

The second kiss was closer to their mouth. Whumpee trembled involuntarily with disgust.

"It was all my precious project, to make a wonderful vampire like you, so full of power and still afraid, so strong and yet unable to say something wrong without the paralyzing fear of punishment" they whispered their sickly-sweet words while kissing them closer and closer to their lips.

"You are my art."

Whumper finally reached their lips and lost themself in a too long, intimate kiss.

Whumpee almost threw up.

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