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jhuzen · 5 months

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old and new [gn/m.reader]

good lord i have been gone for a long time. i am so sorry, i am recovering from bloccus writicus. also i may have been… getting in touch with my thirst for strong women. women are so beautiful. i love them. to all my requesters (? how to english), please excuse my tardiness. allow me to rev my engine before delivering them once again. i’m gonna warm up with a few posts (including this). ALSO THIS STORY IS JDIADMC IDK.

𖦹 big on genshin lore because i am nerding out, creator reader but not sagau reader, like i’m talking you are a character in the story, ooh look at me diverting from my agenda of overseer reader (i blame skirk’s master).

The mere ability to create is something so vast and so elaborate, placed upon the pedestal for all to see. If one is gifted with the passion and talent to create, they are the envy of all — to craft the most divine pieces, create something so intricate that it is nothing short of impressive.

And through it all, an artist hones one’s skills until they have reached the peak — until they’ve viewed every perspective, until they’ve used every shade, until they’ve done every stroke, all of it comes down to their prized creation;

Their Magnum Opus.

That… was Teyvat to you.

It was your pièce de résistance. If the myriad of heavenly bodies that lay before your trail were thought-provoking and terrifyingly beautiful to a fault, then Teyvat was your inexplicable masterpiece, one that took trial and error as your gentle hands shaped and carved every landscape, as your breath that blew into it became the protecting breeze, and as the tears that you wept from joy became the primordial seas of the world that birthed new life forms that you managed to call a mere happy accident.

It was yours. Many worlds before it were mere prototypes, but something you’ve cherished nonetheless. To you, Teyvat was the product that will possibly never get any better and a creation that will never be bested by anything else.

You granted it laws that were akin to the past worlds you’ve crafted with your own hands, you gave it life through the creatures that crawled around the earth. It thrived and you gave it autonomy once you thought it could work on its own course with your given gifts to let it thrive.

Teyvat was your cherished creation.

And the same rings true until now upon your quiet descent. Your immaculate robes that were woven with stardusts suddenly turning into a soft silk. You walked the earth in your bare feet, the blades of grass a mere tickle underneath you as you journeyed through the world.

The breeze blew by your hair and you felt the sheer invigoration, forcing a tiny titter out of you. You embraced the fruits of your hard labor, recalling the eons you nearly wept in agony as you continued to sculpt everything down to its tiniest detail.

And out of all of that, you birthed your pride and joy, this world that could never measure up to anything else.

Your eyes which held the countless stars and worlds you’ve created soon found itself gazing across the vast lands of this realm of light you’ve created, finding the realm of void opposing the one you were on.

Countless times you’ve heard your fellow artisans question you for creating such an unconventional place to be. But you sought balance in this perfect world of yours, where every creature can walk on their own respective realms. And if you can create pure beings of light, who’s to say that you can’t create the creatures that lurk within the void?

Your feet pattered against the grass that rustled as you hoped to approach and visit the opposing realm when you felt the ground beneath your rumble and shake. You stilled yourself with ease as you looked over your shoulder.

And your eyes had never known such beauty until now.

For the first time, a creature of divinity such as yourself was gobsmacked at the sight of a huge Vishap that stood before you.

It was a beautiful one — its blue scales that blended with the water from your tears of joy that you’ve shed upon your creation, its eyes holding the purest intentions that matched its pure being. You can feel the waters surge within its very form, like a fresh cold spring on a hot summer day.

Your eyes suddenly filled with tears as you felt your heart constrict with so much love as you watched it approach you. You have never seen such beauty that it truly nearly knocked you off your feet. Your chest ached with so much want as you continued to marvel the creature that you only hoped of succeeding in creating several eons ago.

“Oh… look at you…”

Your voice, honeyed and smooth as a silk, tinkled across the lands — waking up the creations that you gave life to upon your very own creation of Teyvat. Your voice, filled with so much love and tenderness, directed to the Vishap that towered over your tiny mortal form with ease, rang out, as if to call for it to come closer.

And it does.

The earth shakes with every weighted step that it took and you followed, contrasting the loudness with the silence of your own steps. You met it halfway until the very concept of distance no longer exists between you and the Vishap.

“…Such a beautiful one you are,” you whispered, your voice emitting a lilt of care and intense joy that you managed to suppress for a good measure before it overwhelmed you.

You lent a hand and its gaze directs towards it.

The Vishap leans into your touch and you can feel the waves of the primordial sea flow through you. With it, you can feel the joy you’ve felt once you’ve reached the end of your creation. You’ve felt the nostalgic satisfaction that kept you fulfilled even until now. You’ve felt the overwhelming love and excitement that you had when you took a step back and got a good look on Teyvat’s finality.

“You, who cradled our lives in your hands,” it spoke with a bellowing voice, making it seem like your own was but a mere squeak. “…Why do you pursue a creation as grand as this?”

You took a second as you pondered its question.

“…For the love in me is much too big not to share.”

“We have anticipated your descent. Nibelung has prophesied the return of the tearful artisan.”

You felt yourself flush at the title that was given to you unceremoniously, “Are my tears so ineffably embarrassing that I deserve such a name from my beloved creations?”

It huffed at your light jest, “It is nothing more but a praise. Your tears brought life in this barren world. Your tears gave birth to a new life that not one could hope to achieve—

“Your tears are my waters, to which I have complete sovereign on. Your tears are my will, to which I am eternally thankful for.”

You felt the inevitable warmth flow through your tiny body from the Vishap’s words alone. While it was satisfying to finish Teyvat on its own, you suddenly found a level beyond that feeling after receiving gratitude from your own creation firsthand. It melted your lonely soul and you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the feeling of it alone.

Such a simple gesture it was — to thank you — and yet the feeling it gave transcends every other emotion you’ve felt throughout the course of your long and eternal life.

“May you continue to prosper with the gift I’ve given you.” You blessed it with your small voice, barely above a mere whisper.

Your palm that shaped many worlds emitted the kind of warmth from a starting kiln and the Vishap relished in the feeling, a pleased growl echoing through the empty vast land of the light realm.

“The life that I owe to you will be cherished and used to its fullest. And should I perish, I will return with memories of you, no matter how faint.” It promised in one breath.

Your silken robes billowed against the breeze that blew by again. You can only feel your thoughts and feelings mingle with the Vishap’s. For once, you are able to see how it and its fellow Vishaps came to be, how each of them walked through the light realm and claimed its own homes where they ruled with incredible prosperity and indomitable ambition.

You were able to appreciate the further creation of life on this world that you deemed perfect, and was able to see how it went when you slept to rest for a good few centuries.

It was a feeling so invigorating, that you could feel your heart swell with so much love and pride for these dragons that walked the haven you’ve created. It mattered not to you how they came to be, only that they were able to live in peace and free from cumbersome bothers. It eased your heart, knowing that they are able to propagate their kind with so much freedom under the autonomous law that you gave to Teyvat.

You were feeling genuine satisfaction.

And it feels your jovial heart, with the way it continued to nestle its luminous scaled body into your touch.

“Protect this world with all your might. And you… you that holds my tears, will be given the authority to bring judgment of all life that makes a home on this world for centuries to come.”

Among the array of emotions that flowed through you, you felt its grateful pride surge through you.

A draconic pride that will leave its mark on you.

You had hoped it was a bad dream — a childish nightmare, no matter how unheard of it was among the divinity like you.

You hoped that the constriction in your loving heart was a jest in poor taste, that it was just a passing act of scare that you will laugh at. But as your eyes gazed at your magnum opus, your heart nearly shattered into a million little pieces.

The waters that were intimately connected to your essence, your very being, was tainted with anguish and anger. You can feel the hardships that started to brew from a few tiny nicks of pain in your heart. Teyvat was quite literally anchored to you through the primordial waters that flowed through it.

And as it continued to suffer contamination from something foreign, your heart further corroded into something that inflicted pain. You can feel the blood that soaked into the waters cry for desperation, you can feel the way it boiled with so much thirst for vengeance against whatever caused the first tragedy on Teyvat in the first place.

You placed full faith on the seven sovereigns, you had given them blessings that will aid them to guard your precious creation, but you could feel the tinge of betrayal flow through your veins when you threw a quick glance and saw Nibelung seeking something far more dangerous to defend their realm.

Something not from Teyvat. Something you know the laws that you placed which granted autonomy would reject and inflict sorrow upon those that were affected by it.

You fell into a state of unrest, pained with the grief of betrayal and longing for those that fought to protect your very own creation. A part of your mind condemns you for placing such a burden on your creations that cannot be better than outworld creatures that transcend them. But another part of you screams genuine belief to those you have tasked, that they will prevail and honor your simple wish.

Normally a couple of decades was nothing to you — as it could pass as quick as a mere minute, but to experience excruciating pain that throbbed like a vile tumor on your heavenly being was not something to sneeze at. Your heart ached for so many decades as you watched the sovereigns fall before those that intruded in your lovely creation.

And as it stole the authorities of the sovereigns, like a widow bereft its lover, you were forced into a state of slumber, lasting for centuries to come.

The new world thrives with lush life, creatures alike living as though its lives weren’t owed to the slumbering deity that was consumed with so much grief after all the tragic events that happened since its arrival on your world.

Perhaps it was the gentle mercy granted upon you that you stayed asleep when it parted a new realm for humanity’s arrival. When it was challenged by someone of the same nature, resulting to more catastrophic devastation that marred your heart with more fresh scars while you slept.

Perhaps it was best that you were unconscious as your closed eyes poured out tears endlessly that would sure tire you out for years as it happened.

And perhaps it was its atonement for the damage it caused you when you woke up and saw your Teyvat as something entirely new. Something that you didn’t create, something… completely alien.

Your pride as a divine creator was shaken, but you were quick to brush it off, wanting to see just how much your precious world was defiled and turned into something you know would never pass up as befitting into your standards. It was admittedly unbecoming of you, to turn your nose up against a creation, you always held some form of admiration and appreciation towards anything. You loved — and loved so much that you had to create to share it with your creations.

But Teyvat was once your magnum opus, it was… yours. It bathed in your heavenly tears, it felt every caress of your hands as you molded it into something you called your greatest masterpiece eons ago. You broke into a sweat, slaved away for the sake of your satisfaction upon completion, and when you finished it, you cried from happiness alone.

You descended, the flurry of stardust in your divine robes coagulating into the familiar silken robes that you wore whenever you would visit the seven sovereigns.

How many years have you been asleep? Dreaming up a reality where you shared a meal with the humongous and serpentine Dragon of Verdure, where you watched the Dragon King roar with pride, and where you exchanged the most insightful and heartfelt conversations with the Dragon of Water — the one that held your tears.

The grass underneath your bare feet feels as though it had a million stories to tell you, that among those years you’ve been forced into a slumber, you had missed a good chunk of what made Teyvat into this.

But the familiarity of the empty landscape was enough to urge you to keep going forth.

And that same familiarity ended the moment your eyes landed on fallen structures — ones you’ve never seen before. You can decipher that it once stood at a towering height, just from pillars that could squash your tiny mortal form with ease should it fall at the slightest disturbance.

You could feel a sense of tyranny from these structures, a tyranny broken by a hope from perhaps the creatures that felt trapped by it. You may have been asleep when it happened, but you can almost see how the tyranny of the past ruler of this place fell against the unity of those who longed freedom.

“Freedom… huh…” You murmured softly and a breeze rustled the grass beneath you. A lone leaf from the many trees landed on your hair, prompting you to take it and look at it.

You wondered how the Dragon of Verdure was fairing. If it had the same authority over the luscious life of Dendro as it did before.

Your feet continued to take you somewhere else, as though it had a sense of where to go. You never questioned it — as alien as Teyvat was to you now, it was still your world. And as long as the primordial waters are around, it stays anchored with you.

It didn’t take long before you ended up before a civilization — one you have never seen before when you descended before it came to challenge the seven sovereigns. Your eyes widened at the sight, pupils dilating as you watched humanity flourish and thrive within that patch of rock where a city sat.

Never had you expected to wake up to the sight of humans thriving in your world where there was once none.

Your sense of cautiousness dropped in a quick second and you took yourself towards it, foot against the hard cobblestone bridge as you walked towards the walls of this… civilization.

If you looked odd approaching this city in such a state, then you were certain they brushed it off as the guards welcomed you with a smile.

“Weary traveler, welcome to Mondstadt, the City of Freedom, blessed by our beloved Anemo Archon, Barbatos himself!”

For the first time since you had woken up, you felt the same overwhelming sense of love and tenderness as you were welcomed with living mortals, living in your creation like it was a normal occurrence for them.

Never had you known that humanity, no matter how it came upon your world, could be so beautiful.

And just like the day you met that beloved Vishap of yours, you wept.

“You sure know a lot of things about this place! Paimon could even say that you’re far more knowledgeable than Zhongli could be!”

Your laugh rang through the streets of Fontaine, angelic and seeming like a song from the heavens itself.

It had been so many years — dare you say centuries even, since you first descended after sleeping for so long with all the catastrophic events that has happened. You had traveled far and wide, discovered every single hidden civilization from the time you were asleep, learned every little conflict that happened.

You had to do the hard part of reading through every ancient tome that had a different language with each ancient civilization, but filling in the gaps was much easier. Despite it being your creation, the mere fact that you gave it autonomy only meant it wasn’t always subservient to you. It had its own laws even if you were the very being that gave those laws.

It was a refreshing change, quite frankly. Teyvat treated you like any other mortal and you could see and experience how humanity managed to adapt to the laws of your creation. It was honestly tear-jerking. You may not be the one that introduced humanity — rather it was the one that caused devastation to you and your dragons, but it was nonetheless still an endearing sight that you cherished.

You had to relearn Teyvat’s new history as it began embarking on a journey as a new world, where humans thrived and dominated, where beings in a mortal body but with a higher threshold, power, and purpose called gods were the ones to govern instead of the elemental sovereigns.

Somehow throughout it all, it felt as though your world was no longer yours.

But the waters ring familiarity, as it held your feelings from all those years ago. And now it’s far more potent in the Land of Hydro that you were currently on as you accompanied the blonde traveler that gained infamy across the nations you too journeyed in the past.

You felt for them, much like you before, they had to learn the secrets of this world. Only that they had to do it blind, while you managed to fill in the blanks of the tragic past of this world. And as much as you’d like to play the hero, since your descent after your sleep, you have learned to let everything play out on its own.

“I’m not one to claim superiority over Mister Zhongli’s prowess. Surely he knows far more than I do,” you deny with a genuine conviction. You learned he was the oldest of all archons, and have a better grasp of the world than you do when you were asleep.

“Mm. Let’s just call it quits and say you and him are even!” The tiny floating guide chirped, clapping in satisfaction after her own little conclusion.

You only nodded, conceding to her whims before finding the traveler walking up to you and giving you a serving of fish and chips and a double of serving for Paimon. You thanked them kindly and they only offered you a polite smile and a nod.

“Oh! Right! We should be heading off to pick up some bounty for more mora! Are you coming, [Name]?” Paimon asked, looking at you.

You caught their gaze and shook your head, “I think I’d like to take a walk around for a moment. I’ll see you two in awhile.” You said with the same unwavering smile that offered nothing but fondness for either of the two.

With a nod from them, off they went to Euphrasie to hound her for more bounty and its fruitful rewards.

You walked through the streets, basking in the noise of every call from every vendor within the side of the street, indulging the bustling nature of the busybodies in Fontaine, and savoring the air of nostalgia that perhaps only you can understand and feel.

Your feet halted at the remote parts of Palais Mermonia, admiring the flowers while you embraced the sense of familiarity that coursed through your veins. It was a welcome feeling above all, as it was the same feeling when you first truly experienced happiness.

And what luck it was when the Iudex himself was passing by for a quick break, to take a tiny breather from the suffocating throes of workload that was hurled on him as one of his many responsibilities.

You perked up when you heard a pair of footsteps echo within the cavernous structure of the Palais Mermonia and you looked over your shoulder.

Suddenly, that nostalgic feeling increased and your heart throbbed and ached with so much longing.

Suddenly, the breeze felt like it did centuries ago.

Suddenly, the hard concrete floor felt like the gentle grass beneath you.

And suddenly, the man behind you felt like the bearer of your tears.

You took a moment before facing him and found a smidgen of confusion and surprise that broke through his otherwise stoic expression. You had heard his impartiality and people reveled in him, word of the mouth was that the great Iudex, Mister Neuvillette himself, was the very symbol of Justice in Fontaine.

You didn’t know whether or not it was a wasted chance, but it never occurred to you to even ask if he kept his promise.

To come back with the faintest memories of you.

Instead, you smiled, bowed so gracefully and respectfully to him like any other mortal who have heard of his achievements would.

But you had to give him a few words yourself; just for old time’s sake.

“Look at you now…”

Your voice, much like millions of years ago, held the same sweetness and fondness, honeyed to perfection that it can lull anyone within earshot to a sense of comfort and warmth. Your voice beckoned him to come closer.

And he does.

“You’re thriving so beautifully… living among humanity…”

You could see the way his breath hitch in his throat, and you stifle a tiny laugh and suppressed the nostalgic fondness and love in your heart that was close to bursting at the seams.

“You did well.”

And you left him then and there, like a soft breeze in passing, in search of the traveler and their tiny emergency sustenance, without you knowing, that for once, it wasn’t you who cried.

It’s true, the new Teyvat felt alien to you.

It is no longer your world, but theirs — they, the humanity that staked its claim and lived for generations, they, the creatures that survived every catastrophic event that struck this world, and they… the beings that claim dominion over it.

And as this world’s creator, you would do well to enact the safety of the life it nurtured, even if you were overshadowed by the very being that devastated you.

After all, with all the love in you, it would be hard not to share it with the world you once knew.

#this fic turned out to be so damn sad why #i think it’s because im listening to ruu’s melody on repeat #anyway… surprise???#i have nothing more to say ☠️#genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x male reader #jhuzen’s stupid one shots #seriously i am just being a nerd in this one im so sorry for a bland start #i think my next post is about the archons #good shit #oh yeah the ‘it’ in this one is the primordial one #tho im sure yall know that already #i just wanna create a dichotomy of reader wanting to hate primo but also being kinda thankful?#idk it’s weird

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mysicklove · 4 months

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𝐓𝐎-𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Note: i totally stole this (with permission!) from @vampcubus LOL. but this is not organized and some of these ideas may not be written honestly. these are just from my drafts and I thought u guys may be curious to see. but this is mainly just for me!!!

also pls pls pls pls do not steal any ideas from here!!!

UPDATED: 1/18/2024

CURRENTLY WORKING ON

Call It Instincts | Bunny! Yuuta x Reader (NSFW)

↳ Yuuta goes into heat while you are gone at work :/

Untitled | Big Brother Au - Older brother! Sukuna x Reader (SFW)

↳ Prequeal - How reader and Sukuna fell in love + introduction to baby Yuuji

Lovefool | Omega! lovesick! Yuuji x Alpha! Playboy! Reader (SFW...?)

↳ Yuuji Itadori swears the biggest player on campus is his fated mate - its too bad you seem to not be able to smell him.

Untitled | Kinktober Day 6 - Cuckholding - Nagi + Reo x Reader (NSFW)

↳ You only wanted a taste of your best friends boyfriend.

Untitled | Omega! Sukuna smut fic

↳ Being mated to the most blood thirsty omega around is not ideal for most alphas, but at least his body is up to par! ♡

Untitled | Pet Au! (Desi's collab) - Demon (pet)! Akaza x owner! Reader (SFW)

↳ You never wanted a pet, but it wasnt like you could leave him.

THOUGHTS/IDEAS (FOR LATER)

Big Brother Au: Amusement park, Yuuji gets hurt (reader reverse comfort), gojo + reader and Yuuji calling sukuna (lol) + megumi trying to get u to break up with sukuna (one fic??? idk), choso introduction!!!!, preschool graduation, reader goes on trip

Non-Sexual Submission - Nanami

Reincarnation Au (multipart fic?) - Sukuna

toga x reader x ochako threesome

nanami kid fic??

servant! sly/teasing reader! x King of curses Sukuna x stick in the mud (lol)! Uruame - reader shows Uruame the different side of their lord

Dom/Sub Au - Satoru Gojo

RESPOND TO THIRSTS

Guard Dog! Sukuna x owner! reader x puppy boy! Yuuji

Catboy! Satoru x Reader adopting kitty boy Megumi - satoru has a fit lol

Kinktober.....?

finish that random Yuuji (slight non-sexual submission) drabble

Bllk orgy :/

Watching Sukuna n Gojo fuck one another.

Sukuna (slightly) begging for Yuuji to trade places with him during sex

Open hand frottage

MAKI??? (maki x reader x yuuta?????)

finish a hashiras duty is to protect and rewrite your new pack (will this ever happen? prob not)

#navigation #to-write list #this is just for me #but #now u guy know

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witchthewriter · 2 years

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: Does anyone still like Jon Snow? Watching the House of the Dragon has reignited my interest in Game of Thrones. Tbh I never really liked Jon because he was too goody-goody for me. I love morally grey, chaotic characters. But then having one character who embodies the best a king could be, gave Jon Snow this weird dynamic? Idk I’m still pissed at the writers ...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

ISFP

Gryffindor

Lawful Good

Capricorn Sun, Virgo Moon, Sagittarius Rising

SFW🌿

⭑ You weren’t really courted by Jon. Or had an official conversation about your relationship. You were just so grounding for Jon; you were a highlight in his life, a hope, a spark.

⭑ You excited him. Not like the other traditional, gruff people he’s been around his entire life. But someone with ideas - with dreams.

⭑ You’re the only person Jon Snow feels comfortable enough with to unload his problems. You’re like another advisor, along with Ser Davos.

⭑ Tormund had a crush on you when he first met you (I think this man is infatuated with anyone he comes in contact with...) You guys have similar personality traits, although you’re a tad more rational than him.

⭑ You give Jon knew ideas; about the war, battles, relationships with other Lords, and friendships

⭑ Sansa wanted you two to get together so badly. She knew you would be perfect for Jon

⭑ She would create outfits for you, and make them with similarities to Jon’s.

⭑ I actually think Sansa would ask you to be her advisor.

⭑ You’re definitely more chaotic than Jon - maybe unhinged is the word? The quote, ‘is this the hill you want to die on?’ doesn’t exist for you. You on’t brush away a problem. You’re stubborn and determined. And I think that’s what Jon loves about you.

⭑ Watching him in battles is gut-wrenching. You feel like the world will end if something happens to him.

⭑ Jon never tells you what to do, he wouldn’t dare. But if there’s a threat, he’ll shove you into safety, if it meant that you would be mad at him forever.

⭑ He loves imagining you two growing old together

⭑ He’s a great cuddler; absolutely engulfing you in furs and his warm body. All you feel is contentedness.

⭑Jon is stubborn himself; very much so. He likes his partner to be tough - to be ready to stand their ground.

⭑ “Can you hold this for me?” You have a closed fist as you walk next to Jon.

“Sure,” he responds without hesitation, opening his hand, palm upwards.

“Thanks,” you slide your hands into his. Jon chuckles, and your stomach soars.

⭑ Getting Jon to smile, laugh, and even chuckle, feels like a huge accomplishment. Like you’re such a special person because you made Jon Snow, the moody, grumpy, stoic man, laugh.

⭑ You always feel protected. Even if Jon isn’t around. He never leaves you feeling alone, and the way the men love Jon, they feel the same about you. Whoever Jon chooses to be his s/o is like being accepted by everyone.

⭑ Jon isn’t big on PDA, but he will give you swift yet meaningful kisses; either on your lips or cheek.

⭑ You absolutely adore Ghost; you give the direwolf more attention than Jon does.

⭑ Jon is always so chivalrous; he’s the epitome of a gentleman.

⭑ Arya likes that you can hold your ground. She admires people who are strong, and she loves that you’re apart of the family. She couldn’t see Jon with anyone else

Relationship Tropes:

Always Does the Right Thing, By the Book x Stuff the Rules, They Were Made to Be Broken

It’s Alright They’re Just Being An Asshole x I WILL KILL THEM HOW DARE THEY SAY THAT TO YOU

Both Having So Much Trauma That No One Else Gets It But The Other

NSFW🔞 minors dni!

⭑ Jon Snow is a tender lover. He’s gentle but firm, making you feel safe and well cared for.

⭑ He may not have the most experience, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. Hot breath, quick kisses, and light bites are a flurry around you.

⭑ He likes to thrust deep inside you, making you quiver and whine.

“You’re too big Jon,” you whimper trying to look over your shoulder at him.

⭑ When Jon wants to have soft, sensual sex - he’ll choose missionary. But when he wants a rough fuck, then he likes doggy.

⭑ He does like it when you bite his nipples and yank on his hair. He does like to be the submissive partner. Especially when you make him call you sir/ma’am/master etc

⭑ He would totally be into blindfolds and ropes. But he’s the one being tied up and blindfolded. He loves giving the power to you

⭑ (this is female reader) And he has such a breeding kink. Usually, he doesn’t think about kids, he wouldn’t want to bring them into such a world. But with your naked bodies, all he can think about is pushing his seed deep inside you.

⭑(this is male reader) Jon likes to be the top; but after getting used to being with a man. He’ll be more comfortable with the thought of being bottomed. I think he would like the feeling since he has so much responsibility on his shoulders. It’s like you’re unburdening him.

#jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow headcanons #game of thrones #GoT #GoT x reader #GoT headcanons #dating would include #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #game of thrones headcanon #kit harrington #stark #house stark #sansa stark #arya stark #bran stark #daenerys targeryan

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stellartales · 2 years

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Zhongli: headcanons with pregnant s/o (she/her)

following the one for diluc, so i've decided that i should write a pregnant headcanon for our lord geo as well. tbh, the scenario i've been trying to come up for zhongli keeps being scrapped. my folder is full of incomplete pieces i abandoned each time cause i really didn't find any of them suitable for sharing. so i'll stick to the headcanons for now —i proofread this once but there may still be errors so sorry in advance!

finding out

being in love and marrying her means doing things couples do is pretty much natural even if he's a god. so this includes AHEM *cues horny sounds* XD (hinting at 'dominus lapidis' - find it on the m.list yourself; minors, pls stay away!)

so he wouldn't be surprised to know she got pregnant from the result of doing *cues horny sounds again*. when it was first revealed to him, he would of course be surprised by the news and quickly take it in stride from what they did.

Zhongli would definitely be extremely pleased to know that those nights bore fruits, in this case, fruit. BUT Zhongli would also be concerned about her well-being 'cause she's carrying his child — child of a god; whether or not it would be too much for her.

this makes me wonder if it's possible for him to put a shield inside her womb, around the child or something to protect her from whatever effects the child could give off? — like how we see Zhongli do so around traveller and Kun Jun during the archon quest featuring Azhdaha

idk hahaha my imagination's bit over the top here; sorry if it's weird—

during the months

he is familiar with births of life since he is possibly the oldest living being alive (one that we are familiar with) but he only knows about this phase of life in theory.

he is a knowledgeable man, er, god but even his knowledge had limits. 'Cause knowing and doing is different. he'd seen and met father-to-be and pregnant mothers so many times in his longgggg life, but when it comes to his own experience, he is as awkward as new fathers can be.

but trust Zhongli to know what is good for pregnancy such as good teas, herbs and etc. - if he doesn't know he would consult the adepti (especially those who had children with humans) and humans themselves too.

i'd like to imagine that Zhongli has his own realm like how we have our own serenitea pot, and in there, he owns a mansion; not those multi-tiered type, but ground level with the courtyards and winding verandas (those open-air corridors), with a solid gate around this compound.

Even if he doesn't own a realm, i'd imagine he would own a property like this all the same, somewhere near Liyue Harbor; if he didn't previously, he did after getting betrothed to her. (tbh i'm really curious where zhongli stays in the game)

when he is within their mansion, he would usually don on his hanfu (depicted in sunlit, as written by yours truly).

and on topic of hanfu, he would have a few specially tailored for her for many reasons:

to accommodate her growing belly.

hanfu were more comfortable - flowy sleeves, soft materials and warm

tbh, he secretly developed a fascination over seeing her wearing the hanfu while she's expecting.

Zhongli has always been affectionate towards her but he'd become even more during the months. He enjoys talking to their child in her belly

in the morning without fail, she would wake up to a low, gentle, soothing voice against her rounded belly.

and before bedtime, she would fall asleep to his hand caressing her middle, smoothing over the soft material of her sleepwear. She often falls asleep to the same low, gentle soothing voice. (Zhongli is such ASMR master; his voice alone oh gawd he should be on Youtube lol)

Zhongli is definitely even more protective over her now that she was with child.

before she was pregnant, Zhongli is a lover who believes in her capabilities to protect herself. Just like how he silently watches over Liyue even in the present, he protects her from a small distance. He's not overbearingly protective but enough, Ofc when time calls for him to do so, he'd step up. (don't mess with Geo daddy hohoho)

he respects her as a fellow warrior? someone who is experienced in combat? yea like he doesn't have that kind of misogynistic mindset, like those kind of 'oh because she's a woman so she must be weak and a damsel in distress that can't do a thing so i ,the man, have to step in everytime' mindset.

though i would say that he's more quick to step up when it comes to her than to Liyue (well, cause Liyue has the Qixing and the adeptus)

but now that she's pregnant, who dares to mess with Geo daddy literally daddy HAHAH

while he is sure that she is capable of defending herself even when pregnant, he wouldn't want her strain herself while she's carrying his child. he know it isn't good for her and the baby if she stressed herself. AND OFC, he just wants to protect her; he becomes overprotective papa Geo bear. it's like some kind of instinct more than a thought for him.

Because Zhongli becomes overprotective papa Geo bear during the pregnancy, he sticks around her a lot more.

Hu Tao would definitely see less of that man at work hahaha

He would spend time, bringing his s/o out for short walks; he knows this is good for her. Brings her around the city, listening to stories told by the storytellers, drink good teas, admiring the sceneries around the harbor especially the sea at the wharfs - basically when she's pregnant, they go out on dates a lot more? hahah

but across the months when it gets harder for her to walk 'cause she is getting so big, he would stay home with her, catering to her every needs.

rubs her sore feet, combs through his library for inspiration in finding names as she took naps, spends his time to talking to her and their unborn child

hands are mostly on her belly, caressing it and pressing his lips to it. (oh zhongli is so obsessed, so dedicated to her and their child at this point)

the birth at last

Zhongli would be calm when it happens.

near the due date, Madam Ping who volunteered to help with the birth, would stay around. Madam Ping visits them often during the pregnancy. Giving sounds advices to Zhongli every time she comes over, and discussing how to prepare for the day to come.

He wouldn't show it on his face that it affected him when her hand clutching onto his gave him crushing squeezes when she has to push - being a god, his pain tolerance far exceeds a normal human's so he's gonna be okay hahaha

Zhongli would only be concerned about her 'cause she's in so much pain. Worries again about the effects of his child on her, whether or not it would be too much for her.

but thank god, everything went smoothly. mother is fine, baby is fine.

Zhongli would be so grateful to her, he shed silent tears after Madam Ping left them to be alone. he would thank her for carrying his child and giving him the chance to experience what it's like to live like a mortal, as if she was the one who brought rain after a drought.

ironic for someone who had lived for so long, Zhongli is still experiencing his first-times; finally learnt how to truly live.

he still got a lot more to learn- how to be a father, a husband and lots more things to come.

published on 23.06.2022

#zhongli imagines #zhongli x reader #zhongli headcanons #zhongli scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #zhongli genshin x reader #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli fluff #zhongli x traveler #zhongli x y/n #zhongli smut #zhongli x you #zhongli x her #zhongli x pregnant reader #zhongli pregnancy

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redbleedingrose · 1 year

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Till the End of Time ~ Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: 5 times Eris fell in love with his best friend and 1 time he did something about it

Warnings: Beron Vanserra, fluffy (for the most part), some sexual references, angst here and there and everywhere

word count: 5.6K

Masterlist

A/N: I have had this concept planned out for a while, and I felt like typing it out today. Idk just feeling lots of love for Eris Vanserra this week!!!! Always Epilogue will be coming out soon I promise, just feeling a little burnt out from it! Also this was also meant to be a drabble because I have to study but I have no self control! (I also didn’t edit this, we are rawdogging this sorry not sorry) Hope you guys enjoy this little fic! Please, as always, like, reblog, and comment your thoughts, you already know it means the absolute world to me! Please eat something, drink a sip of water, and take your meds! Lots of love -Rose <3

1. When they promised to be best friends forever at the age of five

Eris eyed you as you stood behind your mother, hiding behind her like she could protect you from the world. He could have scoffed at the naivety of the little girl. His father had let his five year old son know earlier that morning that he was to be on his best behavior because special guests were coming today. When Eris had questioned who the special guests were, Beron had backhanded him across the cheek for “questioning the High Lord” so hard, that the little lordling was knocked to the floor. His cheek had ached for the rest of the day before his mother, Roux, found him and sobbed as she kissed the tender bruise that formed. She had applied some salve, whispering apologies and sweet nothings into his ear as she rocked him back and forth, cuddling him close before murmuring a glamor enchantment to cover the atrocious crimes of the high lord before his guests.

Eris had assumed that the so-called guests would be old, greed-mongering males, probably praising everything that Beron did or said, but he was shocked to see a small family of three making their way into the entryway. The little girl peaked out every so often from behind her mothers skirt, just to get a glance of the high lords family who stood before her. When her father had rushed himself to introduce the rest of his family, simpering at the High Lord for the invitation, he had yanked the girl harshly by the elbow, pulling her into the limelight. You stood there, shaking like a leaf about to fall from a tree because the wind had been so strong, before curtseying so low, Eris thought your knees touched the floor.

Suffice to say, the High Lord had been very impressed and turned to his son, glaring at him so hard, the child stepped forward and introduced himself, sneering down at you when you whispered your name in exchange. Eris didn’t know what to do with himself as he sat next to you at the dinner table, you hadn’t said a single word to him, quietly eating the food placed in front of you. Your mother and father were deeply entranced by the conversation with their high lord, and failed to acknowledge you. Only when Roux asked how old you were, did they seem to remember you were there, as the conversation went deadly silent and everyone turned their gazes onto you. You squirmed for a second, freezing as soon as you made eye contact with your mother who stared at you icily, and yelping out that you were five. Roux beamed back at you, “Eris is only a year older than you, you both may go outside after dessert to play.” Beron had scoffed at her, but didn’t deny lady autumn's suggestion. Er had been surprised, not only by Beron’s lack of scolding or response at his mother, but also because he had minor interactions with children his age in general. His father kept him busy with intense training and schooling, and refused to let the little lordling interact with the children at the forest house, citing they were peasants and Eris “did not need to mix with the likes of them.”

After dessert, some kind of tiramisu that Eris did not care for, Roux reminded the children to go outside, “fresh air will do you both good,” she said, and he had turned to glare at his mother. He rose from his seat awkwardly, waiting for you to also rise, so he could take you to the area under the willow tree that had the single wood swing attached to a thick branch. You followed him without a word, and Eris had planned to let you sit and wait until one of their mothers would call them inside as he tried to swing as high as he could. He had no energy or will to speak to you, but you broke the silence as you walked past the stables, “What's in there?” Eris almost snorted, thinking it was a stupid question because what else would be in there. He replied boredly, “Horses… and my hounds.” You whipped your head to him so fast, so excitedly, it knocked the breath right of the little heir. “You have puppies?” Your eyes shone bright in the setting sun, and your hair glimmered under the remaining rays that flew over the horizon. “They… they aren’t puppies! They are hounds. For hunting,” the lordling replied feeling flustered, heat rising up to his neck as he pulled at the collar that felt too tight at that moment.

“Can I see?” you pleaded with him, “Just for a couple of minutes?” Eris thought for a moment, feeling protective over his pets who had probably just finished their evening meal served by the stable boys. He didn’t know how they would react to a new presence… to a girl. The hounds were being trained to hunt, but he supposed a quick peak wouldn’t do any real damage, “Fine,” you cheered so loud, beaming at him with a toothy grin, the little lordling felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. He rubbed his tiny hands together anxiously, “only for a minute though, they are probably tired.” You must’ve picked up on his nerves, because you quieted down, thanking him with a blush dusting your cheeks, and followed behind him as he paced towards the shelter holding his precious hounds.

The door was painted red, and Eris had to pull it open using all his strength after standing on the tip of his toes to unlatch the door. If Beron had caught them, he knew he would be in serious trouble, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as you peaked through the fence, bouncing on your feet to get a glimpse. He grabbed at your wrist, ushering you inside with soft tugs, as twelve hounds bound to the pair of children. What Eris hadn’t expected was for his hounds to surround the little girl, jumping onto her, knocking her over into the hay that lay beneath their feet, as she let out a tiny scream in fear. He panicked, yelling out commands to the hounds to back off, yelling her name, and almost called out for his father in the flurry of fear. The sounds of giggles filling the stable interrupted him, Y/N sat up as the hounds were eagerly shoving their noses into her face, licking at her, scenting her, rolling onto their backs for her to pat them. She squealed with joy, wrapping her arms around one particular hound who had made his way onto her lap, hugging him close, “Eris, your hounds are puppies! They are so cute!” His jaw had dropped to the floor, the hounds frivolous display of affection was extremely uncommon and usually reserved for the little lordling alone. Indignation rose within him, but he cut himself off as three of his hounds left the girl to approach him, begging for their master’s attention.

The children spent the rest of the night in the stable, the girl asking Eris so many questions about his pets, the hounds and horses included, opening up rather quickly from her previous shy nature. They sat on the ground next to each other as the hounds cuddled up on them, most falling asleep at the babbling between the five year olds. At some point, the conversation shifted away from his pets to any and all topics. They discussed their favorite foods, their favorite desserts, their favorite holidays, what they were learning in school, what Y/N wanted to be when she grew up. Hours upon hours of conversation, well into the night until the stars and moon were the only source of light other than the small faelight at the edge of the stable. “Father says we will probably see each other more,” Y/N excitedly whispered, trying to keep her voice down for the sleeping pups, scooting closer to the little lordling. “Really?” The heir couldn’t believe it, “Why?” The girl let out a huff, “We are moving here… mother keeps saying its because father has been promoted to chief accounbant.”

Eris stared at her for a moment, “you mean accountant?” She rolled her eyes, falling back onto the floor in helpless despair, “I don’t know Er,” a nickname she had come up for the little lordling during their conversation. He opened his mouth, probably to reaffirm the girl probably meant accountant, but was stopped by the girl, “Do you want to be friends?” The lordling had once again been rendered speechless by the girl. He had never had any friends before, and he didn’t really know what friendship had entailed. She lifted her head, eyes wide, boring into his as he tried to formulate his answer. “Sure, let's be friends,” if he had learned one thing tonight, it was that he didn’t mind the girl's presence. He actually found himself enjoying it. “Best friends forever, Eris, swear it.” she said determinedly, raising her crooked pinky to link with his. “Okay, best friends forever Y/N. I swear.” A tingling sensation arose around the inner part of their right ankles, a small tattoo of a dahlia formed, obscured from the eyes of their prying parents. He stared at her, a grin forming on either of their lips, his heart warming because he finally had a friend. And the lordling couldn’t wait to be best friends with her, till the end of time.

2. When you helped him with his injuries from Beron’s wrath and comfort him

“Oh gods, Y/N, you are a fucking menace,” the amber eyed male groaned into her shoulder, burying his face further into the soft skin of her neck, as she stood between his legs, stitching up the cut on his collarbone that had been left by the knife of the high lord in a fit of rage. She pulled the male off her, trying to get him to sit up straight, so she had proper access to the superficial wound, “Eris, get up,” she chuckled, “You are fine.”

It had been a century since Y/N had found out about the abuse the lordling was subjected to on a daily basis after he had shown up in the middle of the night when they were just teenagers, bursting through the hearth that kept her bedroom warm with flames that continued on into the night. The shock of the male popping out of her fireplace had nearly sent her into cardiac arrest, scrambling out of bed, ready to scream at him for scaring her half to death. She abruptly paused as he slumped into her arms, exhausted and beaten to a pulp. She dragged him onto her bed, and cuddled him close, crying into his chest as he murmured apologies, stroking her hair, and pressing kisses into the female's temple. Eventually, Y/N had shot out of his embrace and ran into the bathroom to gather supplies to clean and help mend some of his already healing wounds. From that night on, the lordling always managed to come after a beating from his father, sometimes so late into the night, it was practically minutes before sunrise. She would pull him into the bathroom wordlessly, and have him lean against the counter as she would sterilize his wounds, stitching them or applying salve, things she had learned after insisting to her mother she needed to receive weekly training from the local apothecary.

“Mother above Y/N, your best friend is in pain,” the heir groaned, leaning his head back into the mirror, peaking at you through his eyelashes as you ignored him, focusing on the task ahead. His hands gripped at your hips, pulling you in even closer before sneaking up to your waist to hold you there. Long ago, you would have blushed being too shy around the heir, but you were desensitized to your best friend's antics at this point. “What happened anyway?” you asked as you tied off the stitch, before moving to place a cloth over the wound to protect it from developing infection. Eris sat up straighter this time, gazing into your eyes as he responded softly, “I am not sure. Something to do with the alliance between winter and summer, I think he wanted in, but they refused.” You snorted, and the male knew you were probably thinking none of Beron’s abuse to his children and wife could ever be justified, but the excuses he did come up with were so absurd, it was beyond him how he still had supporters throughout the court. Everyone was at least mildly aware of the plight of the heir, his younger brothers, and lady autumn, yet everyone who could do anything, like your father, refused to, in order to continue lining their pockets with wealth.

You continued to smooth down the bandage in silence as Eris watched you, you had certainly changed in the past century. Your hair had grown longer and fuller, your eyes more bright with love and hope despite the fear you experienced so close to the high lord, your body had morphed into a grown female. When you finished, you lifted your worried eyes to stare into his, and a soft smile lifted onto his face unintentionally, easily. “I’m fine, doll,” he pulled you in, rubbing at the point between your shoulder blades, letting your head rest on his shoulder as he buried his face deep in your hair, inhaling the smell of maple and sage shampoo you used, the scent bringing him a deep sense of comfort and ease as he held you close to him. The softness of your body and quiet beating of your heart against his was lulling him, and so he leaned away, half lidded gaze focused on yours as a tear slipped down your cheek. He thumbed it away, his heart speeding up at the thought of you caring this much for him, like no one else ever had. He worried that your hands on his chest would pick up on it, but neither of you made mention of it as you enjoyed each other's presence.

“At least flash me your tits if you’re that worried, I think I'll be feeling a whole lot better if you do,” a smirk lilted his face as he watched a deep red flush develop on the apples of your cheeks. He loved flustering you like this, and the thought of you actually following through on his request had his cock twitching in his pants. “Gods, are you ever not horny Er?” you shoved him back, laughing at the males audacity, the solemn mood completely shifting into one you were more comfortable in, “Fuck off.” The smirk on Eris’ face deepend as he snorted, “I most certainly will if you show me your tits doll.” You sigh, shaking your head at the male as you wiggle away from his grasp around your waist. A flash crosses your beautiful iris’, one that has Eris’ knees nearly buckling, as a smirk forms on your face. “Fine,” Mother fucking above, he could pass out, “only for like ten seconds though.”

3. When he watches you interact with the people of autumn, especially the females and children

One thing Eris always gave credit to his best friend for, was the fact that she loves helping people. He didn’t know where you inherited the trait, knowing your mothers cruel indifference to others and your fathers greed, but whenever he brought you to the nearby villages for the day, the citizens' hearts were won over by her. The lordling couldn’t do much for his mother, once a week, he would beg her to flee autumn, even going as far as saying he would seek protection from the night court on her behalf, or even send her to Day if she so wished to be with its high lord. But Roux refused every single time, too afraid for the lives of her children if she were to flee, his youngest brother, Lucien, already being forced out of the court when Beron killed his lover. The thought made his stomach churn and heart ache, and so he shoved it deep down, burying it into the darkest part of his unconscious, turning his attention back to you.

The heir had gone behind his fathers back, building female centers in every village for those who had been abused by males, accepting any and all who came looking for help. He ensured these projects were funded, funneling his own wealth into them to make sure these females and children had access to healthy food, clothes, products for their cycles, education and training for both the females and children, toys, etc. Anything and everything these females could need, he made sure was provided to them. He often took you to these centers whenever your mother would let you out of the house, more often than not, you would sneak out willing to face whatever punishment your mother would enforce later on.

He watched as you spoke to the females, allowing them to show you whatever it was they had chosen to study, and you listened so intently, focusing all your attention on them. A warm feeling spread throughout his body, knowing that you were just as passionate about these projects as you were. In fact, you had been the one to encourage the lordling to pursue these projects, and you helped him plan everything out, taking on a huge role in the process. His thoughts drifted to you helping in the future, one day when Beron was dead, and he was high lord. Mother above knows that he would need all the help that he could get, and mother above also knows that you would be there at his side every step of the way. Butterflies arose in his stomach so hard and fast, the male needed to steady himself as he watched you turn your attention to the babes who were grasping at your dress, vying for your love. A soft smile was stuck permanently on your face as you cooed at the babes, leaning down to pick them up and hold them against your chest, swaying back and forth in a lulling manner. He watched as you stroked at their hair, smoothing down any stray strands, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what you would be like with your own babes one day, his heart palpitating at the thought. The heir took the very thought, and shoved it into a box inside his heart, as the feeling of envy at whichever male was lucky enough to have her in that way creeped its way throughout his body. But as your gaze met his and your smile grew wider, Eris let himself hope that maybe the cauldron would bless him with that luck.

4. When you danced together in the forest moonlight after Amarantha’s reign ends

Fifty fucking years. Fifty horrific fucking years. Five decades without seeing you, without talking to you, without holding you. Every year, every month, every day, every hour, every minute, every second was beginning to blur together with the lordling as he lived under the mountain, trapped by Amarantha’s reign. The longest Eris had gone without seeing you since the male had met you, was three weeks, for a vacation your family had forcibly taken you on in the winter court. After that, you had opted to stay at forest house while your parents went out on vacations, keeping close to the lordling as much as possible and avoiding Beron at any cost. You just couldn’t stay away from each other, those three weeks had been torture.

Fifty fucking years was unbearable. Eris missed you so much, with every fiber of his being, with every cell in his body, with every molecule that made him whole. He ached for you, thinking about you constantly night and day, almost to the brink of insanity, his one reprieve being that you were not trapped under the mountain with him. And all of it ended with Feyre, the cursebreaker as they called her. He sent a silent prayer to the Gods, thanking them for the girl who bought the trapped fae’s freedom, before winnowing out of there immediately after she had been brought back to life, the only thing that was one his mind, that was consuming the male really, was getting back to you, even if that meant you being the first female he would visit, the second being his mother. Seeing you. That is all he wanted.

The male found himself standing outside your window at the edge of the forest, it was the middle of the night and there was no way he would knock on the front door alerting your parents of his arrival. He stood there, watching you silently, heart racing with joy as you sat by the windowsill, engrossed with whatever book you were reading. He stood there for what felt like hours, as hot tears began to collect in his eyes from the sheer relief that you were okay. But it had only been a couple minutes. And you glanced up, staring out the window, as if sensing you were being watched before you froze. Eyes locked onto his form. You stared. And stared. And stared. And stared. Book dropping from your grasp, as your now free hands rose to your face, clamping around your mouth as you probably cried out. Suddenly, you were standing in front of him, probably having winnowed yourself out of your bedroom. Shaky breaths misted in the air around you as your respiration rate increased, chest rising and falling so fast, the heir wanted to rest his hand on it to calm you. And then…

And then warmth. Gulped sobs into his shoulder and your hair. Tight arms around his neck, along with tight arms around your waist. Pressing against one another until each ridge of his muscle, and each curve of your body molded together. Somehow, the lordling gathered the strength to winnow you away, deep into the forest, where your mother or father wouldn’t be able to see you out the window.

You continued sobbing into his shoulder, not even noticing the change in location until Eris had pulled you away from him, staring down into your eyes before peppering kisses all over your face. Kissing away your tears, kissing the corner of your eyes, kissing your temple and forehead, kissing your reddened nose, kissing the plump of your cheeks, kissing your chin, kissing the corner of your lips, even landing the softest, quickest peck onto your bottom lip. You clung to him, fisting his coat's shoulders, trying to keep the male impossibly close, as he wrapped him arms around your waist, finding it out of the question of being away from you for another moment.

He whispered sweet apologies for being away for so long, murmuring how he had to protect you and autumns people, rubbing your back while mouthing his thoughts into your shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to say the one thing he truly desired to tell you, Beron still being alive was reason enough. So… the male showed you. Tucking your head underneath his chin as he buried his face into your hair, swaying you deep in the forest with the moonlight as your source of light, and his hums serving as the music, pressing a kiss onto your head whenever he wished as he breathed in your maple and sage scent.

5. When he had a nightmare from the trauma of Under the Mountain, and you comforted him.

Eris woke up with a start, sweat nearly drenching him and he frantically flailed his arms across your bed in search of you after his palm found your side of the bed cold. The events of under the mountain had left the male traumatized more than he already was; the things that he had been made to watch made his bones chill to the very core despite the fire that ran within his veins. Ever since he came back, the lordling hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, finding it too cold and unfamiliar to him. He walked through your hearth to find you asleep in your bed, blissfully unaware of his presence within your room, the site bringing him a wave of comfort through his chest. He approached your bed with apprehension, you had never done this before in your 700 or so years of friendship, slept together in the same bed that is. There was always that boundary that the heir hadn’t been willing to cross, in case your scent rubbed off on him too strong and his father started to get ideas.

But his nightmare had him frightened, mind racing with images of your dead disemboweled body being torn apart by Attor’s at the command of Amarantha, as he screamed out for you in what he could only describe was the worst pain he had felt in his entire lifespan. The dream had been so vivid that first night, he had winnowed himself using the fire in his hearth to get to you and make sure you were okay. He watched you sleep that night for hours until you woke up, jumping back slightly at the presence of the male in your room. But the look in his ember eyes… the tears that had streaked down his cheeks… you didn’t say a word, lifting your comforter and patting the space next to you. He siddled up next to you, until your arms had wrapped around his waist and your head tucked under his chin. There was no need for words that night, and every night since then, when the moon rose to its peak, the lordling found himself crawling into the space next to you and cuddling impossibly close, letting your scent and heartbeat lull him into a dreamless sleep.

So tonight, when he woke and didn’t find you withins arms reach, he nearly panicked. He shot up from your bed, only to find you splayed out across the couch in front of the hearth, deeply engrossed in the book he had recommended to you a week prior. His shaken breaths snapped you out of your focus, attention shifting to the bed where the lordling was sat, staring at you, eyeing you up and down, looking for any injury or sources of bleeding, only to come up empty. His dream tonight… it hadn’t been related to Amarantha. In fact, ever since he started sleeping with you, the dreams of under the mountain became few and rare in between.

Tonight… the male had dreamt his father beheading you before his eyes as a way of punishing him for the espionage he was committing with the night court. No one, except for you, had known of Eris’ plans to receive help from the high lord of night in killing Beron. The anxiety that ran through Eris had his entire body shaking with fear as he thought of the possibility of Beron finding out. “Come here Er,” you gestured him to come to you, opening your arms wide for him to fall into. He steadied himself against the bed, slowly sliding out and making his way to you, his best friend, his love, his everything.

He collapsed into you, resting his head between the valley of your breasts, only the sheer thin nightgown separating the feeling of his skin against yours. You carded your fingers through his auburn hair, mumbling “It’s okay,” and “I’m here,” and “I’m not going anywhere,” and “you are safe.” He wished to hear the words, “I love you,” but he didn’t mention it as your other hand came up to run up and down his back with a slight pressure. Eris doesn’t remember falling asleep that night, and he most certainly doesn’t remember the inaudible whisper, “I love you Er,” that spilled from your lips once his soft snores filled the room. The only thing he remembers is that when he woke up, he found you sleeping, the soft planes of your face relaxed into a bliss he hadn’t seen before as your arms continued to hold him tightly against you even as you rested. He remembers that at that moment, he decided that he needed to kill Beron sooner rather than later. Because he only wants you to ever look blissfully peaceful and happy as you did now.

6. When he found you after killing Beron, and decided to do something about loving you.

A week later, with the help of the night court's high lord, general, and spymaster, Eris had snapped his fathers neck in half, sending a shockwave throughout autumn court, as each and everyone of its citizens felt the shift in power from the feared high lord, to the immeasurably kind heir. The lordling had sent you and his mother deep into the woods days prior, to stay at one of his cabins so that he would be able to complete the act without worry of harm towards you or her. Eris hadn’t told you exactly what was going to happen, but somehow, you knew. And you pressed him close to you before he left to complete the act, leaning up and pecking a soft kiss into his lips, similar to the one you had shared the night he returned to you from under the mountain. When you pulled away, he nodded softly at you once, before winnowing back to forest house where he would meet the night court's inner circle. They had struck up a deal with Eris, finally coming to terms with the situation that happened with Morrigan, after he explained to her that he couldn’t help her with his father sentires around, but had come back for her with me at his side to help heal her, only to find her already gone. Eris had even gone as far as bringing you to meet with the inner circle, shocking them all at his gentleness towards you, and opening their hearts to the pair of you.

So there you sat, with his mother, distracting her with mindless conversation as you poured her tea out. And then… And then you felt it. Felt the shift. You felt the power shift from Beron to Eris, and it had been so strong, the kettle had fallen to the floor, spilling hot water all over the carpet. Neither of you noticed however, as Roux started sobbing in relief, pleading that we take her to day court as soon as possible. You wrapped your arms around her, stroking her hair in comfort as you wept your own tears of relief and joy, telling her that the lord of day was most likely already informed by Eris and on his way. So you both sat, patiently waiting for your Eris to come back to you.

A heavy knock sounded at the door, and you motioned for Roux to stay seated as you reached to pull open the door, a dagger hidden in your other hand in case one of Beron’s loyal sentries had found you. Relief sagged through you as you lowered the knife at the sight of the tall high lord of day standing before you, peaking in anxiously around you to get a glimpse of his mate. You beamed, moving to the side, allowing him to stride past you as Roux stared at him before leaping from where she was sat and jumping into his arms. You smiled at the intimate moment, before tucking your dagger into the holster at your hip, and closing the door behind you to let the mates have private time to themselves.

Your patience was wearing thin as you waited for the new high lord to make his way to the cabin, so you started the trek through the forest on your own. Eris had told you he had been planning on burning down Forest house with the body of his father inside, tearing apart all the terrible memories associated with the place, and so he was probably busy doing that. As you walked through the forest, you smelled the fresh leaves, listening to the stream nearby with complete peace spreading through you from the core out. The snap of a twig cracking startled you, and you swiveled so hard on your ankles, dagger already out of its sheath and aimed at whatever was creeping behind you.

And there he stood. Staring at you. With a fresh pair of clothes, old ones probably soaked in his fathers blood. And you stared right back. Right back at Eris. The dagger fell from your grasp as you bound for each other. You slammed into him, knocking him to the floor, as you reached to protect the back of his head from the fall. You were clutching each other so hard, the lordling thought you would melt right into him. You shot up from his chest, peppering kisses all over his face, weeping as you cherished your best friend. He laughed, loud and free, pulling you even closer as he felt the warmth of the fire in his veins burning impossibly high. When his amber eyes met yours, another snap shook you both to your core. A golden rope, binding the two of you together as Eris’ own sobs began wracking through him, his hand wrapping around the back of your scalp and pulling you in for a hard kiss as he reveled in the sheer ecstasy of your mating bond falling into place. The words that had him aching, flowing past his lips, without any restraint or fear, “Y/N, my best friend, my love, my mate… I love you forever and always, till the end of time.”

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

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be-my-ally · 1 year

Text

The Return Flight

Big Bunny #2

As always it's super late here, I will re-edit grammar etc tomorrow! enjoy!

Summary: It’s the next day and they’re off on their return flight. Elvis and Bunny get up to panicking and meditating, and then a couple hours of later one of the other bunnies joins them. Idk I just really can’t see elvis missing out on such a prime chance for a teeny lil bit of voyeuristic action.

I truly tried to wiggle the wrist weights in but alas, not to be today - next time though, next time.

Warnings: 18+, p in v penetrative sex, handjobs (v), oral (p and v), mentions of drug use, graphic description of a panic attack, f/f touching, elvis is kinda sweet in this one - except for the voyeurism + girl on girl action; TO CLARIFY - this is asked for by elvis + both parties consensually agree however, I am warning about very teeny tiny elements of internalised homophobia + the fact that reader implies she only does so (at least at first) to please elvis - she is not, however, reluctant nor unwilling.

wc: 11.4k

FYI: I’ve updated my bio to say I’m pausing requests - just until I get my inbox cleared down + posted! xx Also!!! I’ve had a couple of requests for a taglist - so this is my official mention of that; lmk if you want me to tag you in future posts! FINALLY found images of Elvis AND big bunny! pictured on the left and top right below!

Your brief encounter with Elvis had been your first experience of anything casual, or meaningless, and you’ve never had to navigate the emotions or situations before. It makes you antsy that you don’t know the correct procedure even before you’d left the plane; what do you even say to him? ‘Thanks for the sex, see you on the flight tonight?’ You’re not proud of it, but you ultimately panic to such an extent that you hide in the powder room until they’ve all disembarked. You’d not realised you’d have to hide from the other bunnies too though; they’d all converged on you as soon as you’d left - desperate for any morsel of information you would give. You’d somehow, thankfully for your dignity and the taxi driver’s ears, managed to prevent them from asking too many questions until you’d all arrived at the hotel where you would be staying.

You were looking forward to ensconcing yourself in the hotel room, a proper shower and time to relax for the night and day or so before the return flight. That was, however, not to be, and you were thankful that you’d had the chance to at least wipe yourself down before getting redressed on the plane; your sudden lack of tights had forced you back into your dress - unwilling to be so exposed in your bunny corset. Instead of the peaceful night you had planned Daisy and Maggie were forcing their way into the room (of course, they’d have been sharing with you anyway but you can’t say that you didn’t try to run in and close the door on them) with Darla and Michelle close behind; you forget sometimes that even though they may be more ‘senior’ bunnies, they were still only two years older than you. They sit down around you, demanding you tell them everything, wanting you to fill in the gaps between the assumptions they could make from what they’d heard and when things had gone silent.

“Oh lord, I just don’t know what to do -” You'd said after you’d recounted, blushing, the majority of the details; you’d left out him licking you, or that you think that might have been the first true orgasm of your life. You leave out that you think the hour you spent with him might have made you fall in love, and other ridiculous notions. And, for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a detailed description of him, trying to simultaneously protect him and to keep something just for you; you wouldn’t let them speculate on his size, or his stamina. But you had mentioned that he had a thing for feet, something that had been met with raucous laughter and clapping from the girls when you’d prefaced that with the story of your pantyhose being torn. You were, despite your embarrassment, glad to have these girls around you - you’d grown up in a fairly conservative part of town, and you know any of your close childhood or home friends would have been disgusted with you. They might have let it go - since it was Elvis, or have loudly judged you while silently expressing a level of jealousy but under no circumstances would they have encouraged the behaviour, or been so happy for you. Nor would they have interjected your story with their own, somewhat similar, although far less famous, tales. By the time the conversation had gotten back around to your dilemma with how to deal with Elvis again you were all relaxing on the two beds, piled up and crossed legged like a slumber party. “So really - what should I do?”

“Just don’t change a thing,” Daisy recommends, “If he wants to make something of it let him, but you have to rise above it all. Seem like you don’t care. “ Maggie offers you differing advice;

“If you want it to happen again, just be all over him, it’s not like you have to worry that he doesn’t like you.” You consider these opposing suggestions, silent, sipping the terrible hotel coffee. Michelle speaks up, Darla nodding in agreement;

“In my experience… you’ve got to subtly let him know you’re there and available, but don’t fawn over him, just … just say hello in a friendly way and it’s all in his hands then. Remember, be casual about it.” You consider this for a moment before agreeing. It does seem to be the way of the least mortification. You try to put it out of your mind for the remainder of the break, taking the time to try and focus on resting and relaxing before you had to be back in the air.

This time, there’s far less pomp and circumstance around his arrival; and you’re not surprised to see that it’s solely the same group again. Only Darla greets them on the tarmac - the rest of you already onboard and preparing for a quicker departure than last time. This time, you’re all in your little bunny suits, collars and cuffs, cottontails perfectly fluffed - since he’d requested it you all assumed it would save being made to change. This airport was, despite being private, closer in airspace to the larger international airport and your takeoff time was therefore far stricter than any of you would have liked. All knowing that sometimes these celebrities were as difficult to wrangle as herding a particularly difficult group of cats.

So you don’t have a chance to really look at him, take him in, until he’s brushing past you, his thick hands on your hips and waist moving you from where you’re blocking a narrower part of hallway with your body. He doesn’t say excuse me, or ask you to move, just manhandles you across him. You feel then, before you see, the soft plush fabric of his outfit, and when you glance over your shoulder at him you’re a little surprised that rather than the expensive, perfectly fitted, suit he was wearing last time, this time he was wearing a, clearly expensive but nonetheless fairly ordinary, tracksuit - navy blue, low zipper exposing the wide collared shirt underneath - his chest hair peeking out. Your tummy flips seeing him, and you stay very still where he’s put you, struggling to remember what your plan had been. He pats your ass, casually, in the blatantly chauvinistic way that should make you squirm, that implies he could and would do it to any girl at any time - although you hadn’t actually witnessed that yourself, and you’re mortified that at even that brief touch, without any words exchanged your breath hitches and your mind goes slightly blank. He’s gone by the time you try to open your mouth to say something and you try to clear your head by distracting yourself with the take-off preparations.

Michelle is eyeing you up when you’re finishing checking the door, and she opens her mouth but you’re frantically shaking your head before she can say anything, gesturing to not say a word. She frowns, but complies - a moment later only asking you to help her sort the food out. You do so, happy to disappear for a little while and let the others deal with them for a bit. It’s not long after that the pilots signal for take-off and you sit down briefly as the plane taxies down the runway. You’re distracted enough by the situation you find yourself in; are you making it more awkward not talking to him? That for once the take-off doesn’t bother you at all and soon the plane is balanced in the air, allowing you and Michelle to finish your preparations. Daisy pops her head around the corner a few minutes later saying you’d been requested.

You breathe in, deeply, as much as you can as a little bunny, plastering a smile on your face and you head out to the forward compartment where the group is sat. You expect to walk straight over to Elvis, but you’re stopped by someone else whose name escaped you - barely greeting you;

“Look babydoll, last night, you made me the best Mai Tai of my life, and I’m sure you’re all…” he looks sideways, “as well trained as each other, but honey, I’d really like it if you could do me another one?” You somehow manage to keep your face in check even though you want to scream at his barely concealed innuendo. Instead, you agree, customer service smile on your face, and turn to the rest of the compartment asking if they were all ready for drinks. There’s a resulting chorus of orders and so you head over to the bar to get started. Elvis hadn’t responded, walking out when you’d walked in - he’d gone right into the conference space and one of the boys had mimed a phone to his ear at another's questioning face. You were a little hurt to not be acknowledged but also, truthfully, a little relieved to not have to deal with him for the second. But it wasn’t to last long, upon delivering the other drinks with the other girls to many a relieved sigh, a different man had pointed through to the conference area, gesturing to the bar,

“Think you should take the boss a little pick me up too.” You nod in agreement but he hadn’t drank last time and you have no idea what that would mean making so instead you pour a short glass of cola, hoping that’ll do at least, and balancing the glass on the tray, head through the little curtained archway. You try not to show any emotion when you walk through, keeping your face neutral and concentrating on holding the drinks tray, the slight tip of the plane was liable to send a single glass sliding if you didn’t balance it perfectly. You hear him before you see him, curled against the wall with the phone pressed to his ear. His fingers twirling the cord as he looked out of the window, but with how dark it was outside he could only be looking at his reflection. You’d intended your poker face to display that you weren’t going to be the first to crack, to acknowledge anything but now you’re having to maintain it to retain dignity once you hear what he’s saying. He’s sweet-talking a girl, uttering promises and reassurances;

“No, honey, darling, no - would I be ringing you now? You don’t need to nag me baby, that’s right you’re my baby aren’t ya, ye-ah, put it on your card honey, on my card, yeah that’s no problem… you know I like you in blue…”

You know you have no claim on him; despite your activities together you’ve barely spoken to him, and you’ve only known the man 24 hours and yet a weird surge of possessiveness fills you. Or is it even possessiveness? Or just plain jealousy? Half the trouble was that you’ve never wanted someone like this — you’d never understood why the girls at school would fawn over a specific boy, it had never interested you. You’d never lain awake wondering what you should wear or how you should style your hair to best catch their attention. But today, just this morning, you’d nipped out to the nearest drugstore to the hotel and frivolously bought a new lipstick; you had no need for a new one, and certainly not in the colour you’d chosen - far flashier than you would usually wear, for some reason certain it would catch his eye, but you’d been unable to resist the temptation of putting on a bit of a show for him. To have that gone to waste, for him to ignore you, preoccupied with worrying about appeasing some other girl? Who wasn’t even there? You were annoyed at yourself, for being hurt by his actions and for doing it in the first place.

He finally spots you in the window and he turns, waving you over, reaching out a hand for his drink off of your tray. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge you, or pause in his conversation, simply demanding you come closer with an impatient hand raised. You come towards him, dipping to allow him to easily take the glass, and you watch as he immediately tips it back for a gulp and places the half-full glass back onto the tray. He makes a little mmhmm noise down the phone as he turns his attention back to the call, and the girl on the other end. You turn to leave, not willing to simply stand there and wait for him to want the glass again, jumping when you feel him swat at your exposed thigh. You whirl back around, ready to either playfully (or truthfully, actually) confront him - once was fine but twice? But, before you can he’s back giving his attention to the phone again, looking out of the window. You take it as the dismissal he meant it, and you hate that as you walk away you add an extra sway to your walk - bunny tail bobbing with the motion - just in case he’s looking, and that you can feel your slightly smug smile from even that touch.

It feels like hours, but it was probably only twenty or so minutes later when he returns to the forward compartment, settling down into the large sofa-seat in the middle of the cabin. You’re forced to walk past a moment later and he grabs your arm on the way;

“You look real good today Bunny - very cute.” You wiggle your tail at him and he chuckles; that deep laugh that starts in his chest but ends in his belly. His head rocks and it causes his loose hair to flop about, so different from it’s stiff look from the years prior. You beam at him, pleased to have been so entertaining. He looks you up and down again, still holding onto you,

“Like the lips darlin’. You wear that just for me?” You shake your head no, but he just laughs at you, “Ohhhh, you did it for ol’ Joe over there then did ya?” Feeling the catch-22 you’ve put yourself into you frown, you don’t want to admit that you did do it for him, but god do you not want him to even jokingly suggest you were trying to attract one of the other guys. So you do the next best thing, shaking your head and teasing him back.

“Nu-uh it was for me.” He laughs back at you, his eyes crinkling. When he calms back down he shakes his head in disbelief.

“ O’course it was honey,” You protest his condescending tone,

“It was!” You gesture down at yourself, “I don’t put all this on just for you,” He laughs again, eyes crinkling as he crows at you; shouting to the rest of the boys.

“Ooh-hoo we got ourselves a real-life feminist bunny over here!” He says it mockingly, adding a sneer; “Watch out Ms. Steinem!” He scoffs, “Now hon-ney, we both know it ain’t true… so why don’t you stop playing hard to get, admit you made yourself all pretty for me and come and sit over here. Right on daddy’s knee.” He pats his lap. You frown, you were a feminist, but his lap did look pretty inviting, and your heels were already hurting and you had wanted his attention. So, you do.

“I’m only doing this because you’re paying me.” He chuckles again, one hand coming around you to hold your waist, the other coming to hike your legs further up and across him, his broad hand rubbing your thigh as he does so;

“Sure thing honey - you want me to tip you a little extra for whatever we’re about to do in there?” He nods his head towards the back of the plane. You frown a little, you know he’s joking but you’re suddenly a little worried he does think you’re paid to provide him with extra services. ‘We naturally do not tolerate any merchandising of the bunnies.’ That’s what the bunny bible says. Its word is law, so it’s not true that any extra services are expected. But then, when you think about it, you were told to be…nice to him. The annoying thought then registers, less concern about whether what you’re doing is against the rules, that you hope he realises that you’re doing this because you want to and not just because you’ve been told to. You try to shake this thought off, be casual - c’mon be casual, the mantra running through your head as you attempt to push all other thoughts and feelings out. After all, you don’t want him to think you’re not fun, or reading too much in to anything.

“No-o, that’s, that’s, that’s just an added bonus.” You stroke down the zipper of his jacket, and he laughs again, grabbing your hand and kissing the knuckles. He spreads your hands in his, assessing them.

“God, you got such pretty little fingers baby, look at them lil’ nails - what’s that colour called? Call-Girl Red? Scarlet Tart?” You blush, but you’re able to laugh, recognising that he would only continue to suggest increasingly ridiculous names until you did. He holds you there while he finishes his conversation with the boys, fingers brushing over your skin, until finally, he pats your thigh phrasing an order as a question - “Come through to the bedroom, doll?” You stand up, waiting for him to lead the way to the bedroom at the back of the plane; instead he stands and gestures ahead of him.

“C’mon bunny, hop to it,” He pauses, grinning after his borderline tragic bunny pun as if waiting for a laugh; you comply with a polite giggle even though it’s really not that funny, and take his hand when he holds it out, “let’s go.” When you cross into the bedroom he lets go, leaving you to sit down on the huge elliptical bed while he disappears into the bathroom for a moment. You try to breathe, wondering what he has planned when he returns.

You have no idea why you’re suddenly so nervous. There’s a rising sensation of breathlessness travelling up your chest, your stomach churning a little. You feel inexplicably sick, and for a moment you worry, as the plane bobs the tiniest bit - the motion normally soothing, that you might actually puke. He’s still in the bathroom, and you’re trying to calm yourself down - what will you say to him when he comes out? He’s expecting something now. You don’t want to miss out on anything, it had been so good last time; you didn’t want this to be the new lasting memory of your, however brief, time together. You try to tell yourself you’re being ridiculous - c’mon now, calm down, you’re fine - it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before - not like you haven’t done this before, why are you doing this - don’t ruin it for yourself - oh my god why are you such a little baby get a grip. But that clawing feeling is climbing your chest and you’re struggling to swallow - to breathe. You’re ripping off your little bow and collar as hurriedly as you can but it doesn’t make a difference. You sink down lower, practically lying down now, attempting to practice deep breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. It’s in that moment he comes bounding out of the bathroom - looking you over, as if he’d expected to be ready to pounce; not deal with you still fully dressed (as much as you could be in the bunny corset) and close to tears.

“Hey - hey honey what’s this?” He sounds panicked, and his pitch only increases at the tear falling down your cheek. You try to speak but can’t; “Just - Just talk to me bunny, what, what’s wrong?” You whine at him, trying to sit up and look at him rather than peep from your horizontal angle. He makes it easier by sitting by you on the bed and peering down at your face.

“Nuh-uh-thing,” You finally gasp out, “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just - just got myself all twisted.” A tear slips out, and you angrily brush it away trying to stem the flow. He looks concerned for a second, patting your arm.

“I won’t - we haven’t - we don’t gotta do anything baby, you know that? Not gotta do a thing you don’t wanna do.” He sounds unsure, like he’s not had to deal with this before, or like he’s nervous he’s upset you. It only makes the tears fall a little faster - at how nice he’s being to you when you don’t feel as though you deserve it.

“No-o no I know, I want to, I just can’t seem to stop,” You talk through your hitched breaths, trying to explain. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t breathe.” He hums, looking over at the little table that ran the length of the wall, at the little black bag settled there before patting his thighs and sighing.

“Right. ‘nough messing about - lemme just get one of the boys to call Dr. -”

“No! No! No - I want you! I wanna do this!” You roll onto your side, scrambling upright and turning to grip his jacket, twisting it in your fist. “I wanna - Elvis I promise I’ll be fine in a second just need to calm down. Catch my breath.”

“Well, if its just you’re breathing all funny let me just give you a puff of an inhaler; they’ve barely got anything in them, just wet your throat really but- but they do help,” You shake your head and he sighs again, as if unhappy you’d refuse the offer. But then he nods, almost to himself, and taking matters into his own hands - hauls you up to be leaning against this thick, sturdy, chest. The zipper was a little lower than before and another button of his shirt has popped open allowing you to pillow your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you feel yourself come down. Shame creeping up as you become fully lucid at how irrational you’d behaved. You sit there for a little while - maybe as long as twenty minutes, but could be as short as ten. Elvis hums song after song at you, occasionally breaking into a little quiet verse, chest hairs tickling you as he moved. Finally you feel sane enough to push up a little, pulling away.

“Sorry - Sorry don’t know what came over me.” You stare at his chest, avoiding making eye contact. He brushes his hand over your chin, pulling it up to force you to look at him. He’s looking at you with an expression of tenderness that’s almost too much to bear.

“S’all right doll, told you - it’s all fine.” You give him a tentative smile.

“I’m sure that wasn’t very …sexy of me, but I do wanna give it another go, please Elvis?” He looks at you hard for a moment, directly in your eyes, as if attempting to judge you were being serious. He clearly decides you were because a moment later he’s leaning over you and moving his hand up your leg.

But when his hand grazes your upper thigh, travelling upwards you feel yourself tense, suddenly stiff as a board. He kisses your neck, and his hand retreats. He spends a long couple of minutes stroking your arm, kissing your neck - your ears. Before attempting it for a second time. Again he gets most of the way there before you go stiff and tense. He moves his hand back to your arm, talking lowly and slowly, practically whispering.

“Now, darlin’ s’ok - we’ve done it before baby.” He’s soothing you like you’re a skittish horse, crooning into your ear, “If you wanna do this I need you to relax for me darling. Can’t do anything otherwise.” You nod, agitated at the accusation that you’re not already attempting to relax.

“I’m trying Elvis - I want to too! I just, it’s involuntary!” He hums - looking over at the bag again -

“Look, honey, I’ve got some, some ‘ludes you can take,” You frown, you didn’t think Elvis was known for doing disco drugs. “I take ‘em to uh help me settle down baby.” You start to speak, perhaps to question the veracity of this claim or where he gets these from - considering his position on recreational drugs. But before you can he’s talking again; “Don’t get me wrong doll, I’m not - don’t get it twisted - they’re prescribed.” He pauses again - “But they’ll sort you right out, real leg spreaders. Won’t change your mind, if you say you want it you still will but, trust me, they’ll relax your body enough.” You shake your head at him, not admitting that while you would love to breathe the concept of not being in complete control of your body was terrifying, instead taking deep breaths to try and force yourself to relax a little more.

“No-no, no need for that, ‘m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me - I’m so nervous today - I just, sorry - just need another minute.” He sighs again, and although the irrational part of your brain worries it’s in annoyance you can tell he’s more annoyed about you consistently declining his offers of help. He’s still doing his best to soothe you, delicate fingers firmly rubbing your arms and sides, a constant motion. “I just - I know it’s ridiculous, but I still feel like I can’t breathe properly.” His fingers stop on the boning of the corset, and he taps it - as if he’s discovered an answer.

“Awh no this is silly now doll, who could all squished in there like that.” He gestures down to where your chest is threatening to spill out of the tightly laced and zipped bodice. You frown, you’re pretty sure it’s mental and not physical but now he’s drawn attention to it you feel like it’s tightening around your middle. You twist to attempt to unhook it yourself - moving forward to bend out of his lap; “No, no darling, let me - I’ll get this thing offa you.” He pushes you further forward a little way, and then with surprising skill deftly undoes the bunny corset. You don’t want to admit it but the moment the hooks fall away you do feel as if some of the air has returned to your lungs. He’s gently and firmly peeling it away from your body, pulling it down and off of your legs - tutting and stroking the little red marks where the seams and boning have dug into you a little - whether because it was just generally too tight or because you’d been contorted into a slightly awkward position.

“Lord almighty - they doin’ that to you every day?” You shrug, about to say that it wasn’t that much worse than some of your tighter dresses or your panty girdle. He holds it up though, looking at it with distaste, rather than the humour he had the first time he’d seen it off of you - as if seeing it for the first time. “They should make ‘em stretchier! Or - or - a better lining!” He frowns again, “I’m gonna ring Hef and tell him - it’s not right!” You shake your head, the conversation at least distracting you from your lungs.

“Elvis - it’s not like I’m meant to be naked right now. How would you supposedly know.” You gesture down at yourself, a little flushed at the realisation that you were, in fact topless and therefore nude from the waist up. He laughs at you, a little condescendingly.

“You ‘spect me to believe he doesn’t know what you’re up to?” He pauses, “Or that…, bunny, you know, I was, uh, warned that you girls would be… available.” You grimace, it makes you feel like a whore when it’s put like that and you try to return you mind to the point you were trying to make.

“Well, still, if it’s because of me that the boat gets rocked - I like my job, and it was at your request we’re proper bunnies today and not in our flight uniforms!” He rolls his eyes at you, huffing at the accusation.

“Ok, ok. Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You laugh a little, and you notice your chest bobbing with the motion - it makes you suddenly very aware of your nudity, probably a sign that you’re starting to return to normal, and you wrap an arm around your middle while scrambling to sit properly upright instead of in a semi recline. He looks at you sideways, starting to lean down,

“Well - now we got that sorted - “ You cut him off,

“It wasn’t about that - it was just, I just got all caught in my head, I think I’m a little messed up; it happens every now and again. It just - anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Could you, sorry, would you pass me my bag from over there?” You nod towards the bag just inside the door, it had been a little presumptuous perhaps but you’d left it close enough that if you had missed the mark it wouldn’t have been tricky to move or hide it. “I’ll get changed now.” He frowns, he’s sat upright again himself, but doesn’t move for the bag, instead pulling your arm around and dragging you to sit over his legs again - he leans back, pulling your head to lie on his chest.

“Babe - there’s nothing wrong with you… you just gotta, gotta put a little of it into the air, believe it’s happening for a reason.” He pauses, one arm moving up to wrap around your waist, the other stroking your arm, catching on the little cuff that was still there. “You gotta promise you won’t - it’s no secret, not anymore, but I don’t share this with everyone - so you promise you won’t laugh?” You nod, as best you can - he sounds nervous. “My mama, she er, she always used to say I was real special, that I had a gift.” You nod again, assuming this is about to lead into him singing something to you which, while you didn’t think it was going to be key to ending these nerve attacks you keep having, is certainly not something you would discourage. “But, she uh used to say I had the power to heal things, and, and I think its true baby, so will you - maybe if we can; if I can give you some of my ‘nergy and we think about it - real hard - together, we might get somewhere? Just gotta, gotta connect - spiritually. Maybe if I, If I push on you, and we meditate together we might, it might help?” He looks so hopeful and sounds so earnest that, despite your misgivings about the veracity of these claims, you agree.

“Ok, ok - if you think, if it might help. I just, I do wanna do things with you, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You won’t baby, you won’t.” He sits down, cross legged at the top of the bed, pulling you around to sit in front of him. He makes no mention of your nakedness, and you’re doing your best not to notice it yourself. “Ok, honey, so just, I’m gonna put my hands here, and you’re just going to breathe with me ok?” His eyes are bright, and his face open, like he’s simply excited to be able to share this with someone. You nod, placing your hands on top of where his are resting on his thighs. “Hold on baby, let’s get these offa ya too.” And he unbuttons your little cuffs, rubbing your wrists where they’d sat, “You don’t hafta, don’t need to think about anything ok darling? You just sit there, and focus on my hands and match my breathing ok? I’ll do all the hard work.” You nod again, and he shuffles himself a little, as if getting himself ready to settle in. “Oh - and I want you to close your eyes.” You look at him for a second, attempting to gauge that he’s being serious and this isn’t some kind of elaborate set-up. He gazes back at you, blue eyes completely calm, and you let your eyes slip closed. He hums a moment later, and then you feel him clasping your hands.

You can tell he’s focussing his breathing, slowing it down and drawing it out, and you match him as best you can, feeling him spread your fingers and press his palms into yours. It takes all of your attention and sufficiently distracts you from your panic and worry that quickly you don’t realise you’re no longer thinking about anything but the light pressure of his hand on yours and the air filling your lungs.

You’re entirely focussed on his slow, measured breaths, and your mind is blank - it’s almost a surprise when an immeasurable time later he flexes his hands, whispering at you to open your eyes. You come back up slowly, blinking in the artificial light of the plane, despite Elvis having used the dimmer.

Although you do, admittedly, feel better you’re still not wholly convinced by his healing properties. What you are grateful for however, is how happy he looks when you open your eyes, as if pleased to have been given the opportunity. And regardless of the ability to heal you, you also feel like something has changed. A shift in the energy between you.

His hand grasps yours, his fingers releasing you to trail up your wrist, up your forearm, and stroke back down to your palms again, brushing his fingers all the way down to your very fingertips and starting all over again. The motion of it, after the intimacy of the last half hour sends your nerve-endings alight, goosebumps forming over your flesh. You feel completely calm, completely ready for him again, your posture straight but relaxed. He moves his hands further up, brushing against your armpits and you gasp as he tickles you the tiniest amount. Suddenly, you find yourself up on your knees - leaning into him, falling into him. Your hands cupping his face, fingers tangling in his sideburns. He catches you in his relaxed arms, the soft fabric of his jacket rubbing against your nipples. He’s still breathing quite deeply, mouth parted - and it allows you to press your lips against his, tongue rapidly falling into his mouth. His hands spread across your torso, curving around your chest as you lean into him - trying to get as physically close to him as you emotionally feel.

His thumbs twirl in circles and your back arches as your nipples pebble against his soft touch - your pussy suddenly starting to feel unbearably hot in its three layers of tights and panties. You huff against his lips, pulling back to grasp the waistband of them all - determined to simply roll them all down together, saving them from him, and you do so in one motion almost immediately regretting that it left you completely bare while he was still fully clothed. He doesn’t give you a chance for it to be more than a fleeting thought though, lying you back, still focussed on making you breathless with his mouth. He kisses along your cheek to your neck and you gasp as he sucks on the sensitive patch just above where your collar bone joins your shoulder. You try to reciprocate, pushing the jacket off of him and struggling to unbutton the last of his shirt - exposing his chest and stomach. He bats your hand away when you go for the top of his pants, pulling away from you and he stands up - surveying you.

“You ready for me, baby?” You squirm a little under his gaze, and you’re not sure where the boldness comes from to reach a hand down, dragging a finger over your wetness, and spreading the folds of your labia open for him to see the glistening stickiness within.

“I dunno, what do you think?” His mouth gapes at you, breathing heavily, the motion as unexpected to him as it was to you, and as you sink a finger into yourself, moaning while you do, he hurriedly removes his pants - throwing them somewhere, his eyes never straying from your core. He pushes your arm out of the way a moment later,

“Think you look like a goddamn fucking centrefold - Jesus Christ, bunny, Lord, all for me, Halle-fucking-lujah,” He lowers himself back down, pressing a kiss to your chest, pumping himself a few times before lining his cock up with your entrance.

He sinks into you, slowly, letting you feel every inch of him that he guides into you. The slight overhang of his belly pressing against your middle as he holds you close, pressing into you as deeply as he can get. You feel every inch of him, every fold in his skin as he pushes in - you know he’s not huge, but it’s been so long that to have something in you two nights in a row, you can feel your entrance ache a little, and inside a slight burn from the stretch. He groans, feeling your tight walls clench around him as you shift, wrapping your legs around him crossing your ankles behind his back. He pants against your ear, kissing the sensitive patch of skin right behind. He’s encasing you in him, smothering you, the smell of him - he’d clearly showered after his show, the faint hint of neutrogena still clinging to him but his own scent, the mixture of his own musk and woodsy cologne layering over it - surrounds you. It altogether feels as intimate as the meditation did - just his and your bodies entangled together. He rests there, barely rocking into you, slowly, almost tenderly - before dragging himself out, rolling off.

“Gotta let you breathe, mama - wanna get deeper.” The concept seems impossible, but he’s pushing one of you legs to the side, rolling you slightly and clambering on top, straddling your other leg and kneeling down before he’s sinking in again.

“Oh - shit, shit - how’re you, oh my god Elvis, that’s - I’ve never,” He knocks against your walls, blindly, until he hits the little bundle of nerves inside you causing all thoughts to leave your head, unable to form a sentence past whimpering. You prop yourself up with one hand, holding onto him with the other, it’s new for you - to be able to watch someone’s face as well as watch them push themselves into you. Being able to look at his face, his mouth open, little grunts and moans flowing as his eyes half-close in pleasure is mind-blowing; beyond your wildest imagination.

“Oh baby, mama, you’re so - oh god, how are you still so tight, you ain’t been properly broken in yet, have you, fuck,” His hips are thrusting into you now, little jolts of pleasure running down your spine and you whine as he hushes you, rubbing a hand across your tummy, moving it up to grasp at your breast. He squeezes, on the edge of too hard, swiping his thumb across your nipple as he pinches it - causing you to clench down on him again, prompting a low groan out of his own mouth. He strokes down your torso, before resting his hand on you, it feels huge across your stomach, heavy and hot almost feeling like it’s burning through you. He slips his thumb lower, coaxing your clitoris out from hiding.

“Want you to go with me, C’mon now baby - c’mon bun, I’m close,” He slams his hips into you, “Al-most there,” His fingers rub over you a little faster, and your nails of your supporting hand dig into your own hair, the other clutching his arm, as you tumble over the edge, shouting,

“Oh - oh - oh, god, Elvis - daddy, god, fuck that’s - oh god,” You hear him swear, pulling out just in time and spraying over your stomach, his fingers coming off of you, allowing you to come down, your body still trembling for a few moments.

When you feel like you’re properly back on earth, a few minutes later, you’re still lying back, panting, while you hear him stand and get himself wiped off. Coming over to you to gently wipe away the mess on your tummy. He looks over at you, eyes still half-lidded,

“C’mon ‘lil bunny, time to get back to work.” He pats your thighs and you shakily stand up. Despite his hurry he behaves almost unexpectedly gentlemanly and fetches your bag for you from beside the door. “Ain’t gonna make you put that torture device back on - you can do the leather if you want.” You frown, thinking for a moment - everyone will know what you’ve been up to then, but then you laugh to yourself a little - everyone already certainly knows. You pause before getting your underwear back on, slightly surprised at his speed, looking over at him;

“You sure you won’t…don’t wanna go again?” He looks a little bashful for a second,

“ ‘m not, I’m an ole man now baby.” Is all he says in reply, but it does the job in conveying what he meant. You look over at him - not sure that you’d describe him as old, he’s what… 38, 39? But you leave it be - dressing in the little leather coat/wrap dress. As you sit to roll your tights over your legs though he stops you, looking you over. “Bunny? Leave off the hose.”

“Sure daddy, sure.” You obey, stripping them off again and pulling your boots onto your bare legs - undoubtedly you’ll get a blister but it’s worth it for the pleased way he looks at you and the kiss on the top of your head in reward for your obedience. You nip into the bathroom, trying to sort your hair and touch up your make-up, and by the time you’re ready to come out he’s gone.

You walk out with your head up, and while you’re greeted with a series of smirks and some whispers you’re not as panicked about it as before, and you’re relieved he came out before you, positive that he took the brunt of any teasing. He winks at you when you pass him, dressed without his shirt now, but otherwise ignores you. This doesn’t upset you like before - you’re content that only you and him truly know what’s just gone on and that your new, intimate, connection is safe and tucked away just for the two of you. It feels like you’ve been wrapped up in him for days and yet when you look over at the clock ticking away you realise you’ve only been in the air for an hour and a half. You feel a little like you’ve left a tiny part of yourself in that room with him, and that you should feel more vulnerable - more exposed than you do. Instead, you feel calm - your tension almost completely gone and with that you start to feel the possibility that you might actually be able to enjoy the next few hours.

A couple of hours later, you’re dancing in the disco room - providing entertainment although you’re sure most of them, certainly Elvis, should be sleeping; unsure where the burst of energy from everyone has come from. But still, you’re dancing about with the other girls, playfully messing around, when he - from his sat position, lavender tinted glasses now on his nose, pulls you down to whisper in your ear,

“C’mon bunny, give me a little show - pick one of ‘em.” He gestures to the other girls bobbing around you. You look at him, mouth open, a little shocked at his bold request - so different from the sweet, slow, intimate behaviour from earlier. It’s not something you’re totally opposed to, but….in public? It’s as if he’s reading your mind; reassuring you -

“S’ok, baby, s’just us up here - just me and m’boys,” He pats you on the thigh, “Go on - there’s a good girl.” You stumble forward a little and make eye contact with Maggie - who was already looking over, clearly eager to share his attention. You look back over to Elvis, watching him grin at her, pleased that she seems so willing, “Just wanna watch you two kiss honey, nothing more - don’t gotta be that dirty but just… just a little. Just for me.” You nod, steeling yourself. But Maggie isn’t reluctant in any way, threading her fingers through yours to pull you closer. The tie of your leather dress brushes against her bare thigh, still in the bunny corset, and you feel her shudder against you as you step completely into her space.

It’s a little strange, kissing her, different but simultaneously essentially the same. The startling difference was the … niceness of it, it was sweet and slow and gentle. Different from the lip biting and teasing of the men you’d kissed. You forget, for a moment, all the other people in the room, it’s narrowed to just the three of you although really you’re putting on a show for everyone, and you open your eyes - watching Elvis watch you. Despite Maggie’s lips on yours - her soft body still pressed against you - your focus is solely on him. His eyes are burning into you, and his legs are spread, thighs thick and inviting. You put a little more effort in, grasping her hair, rubbing down her back, and you listen to him huff a little chuckle when you jokingly squeeze her tail, and slot your leg between hers. You keep eye contact behind her head, watching him swallow, shifting a little to rub a hand over himself - completely unabashed at doing so in front of everyone. The sight of him sat there, looking like a sultan surveying his harem, blue eyes serious and intense, makes your eyes slip closed, and you put all your focus into the feeling of being watched and being kissed. You pull away, laughing as you both sway a little from the force of coming apart - you look over at him;

“That alright Da-El?” He beams at you,

“Perfect girls - so goddamn perfect.” He pats his thigh, the outline of his hardening cock almost completely visible, “Why don’t you come over here bunnies, let me have a better look.” You both do as he asks, giggling, as you tumble together onto his lap. It’s messier now, more fun, her hands scrabbling down your sides, and yours cupping her cheeks. You feel so hyper from it all that you almost feel drunk. His hand moves to support your lower back as you lean across to kiss Maggie again, giggling a little against her lips as she almost tips backwards until his arm catches her.

“God, men fucking dream about this dolls - two little bunnies sat in their laps. But this is just for me ain’t it? Just for me?” His head is tipped back, but he swings it forward to look at you both - intensely, possessively. How a man could be possessive over two women he’d only known 48 hours, on a plane he didn’t even own, was mind-boggling - the sheer confidence required for that kind of thought overwhelming. Yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it, your own head nodding insistently to reassure him. Maggie looks askance at you, but still rapidly nods - the slight lie going unnoticed. His thigh flexes and where you’ve leant forward has hitched your tiny skirt up high enough that you’re now entirely sat feeling the soft fabric encasing his thigh underneath you rub against your bare legs. You can’t help but rock against it, just the tiniest amount. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you three, and instead of the shame you expected to feel, your stomach tightens in arousal at the sensation of being watched. He lets out a little moan, and it only makes you work harder, slipping your tongue into Maggie’s mouth as she pants against your lips. You feel Elvis’ hand slide up your body to the side of your ribcage, his thumb brushing your breast. You pull back, and he gasps as you stroke the outside of his soft trouser leg, gently rubbing the fabric over his cock. Elvis abruptly stands, pushing you both off.

“Think there might be some important business I need to do in Hef’s office. Why don’t you two run along ahead - gonna need,” he looks sideways, jokingly, playing it up for your forgotten audience, “gonna need a couple of helping hands.” You give what can only be described as a polite smile, wondering what on earth has gotten into you that you were willing to display yourself like that in public. But for whatever reason you’re walking back into the bedroom again - this time following behind Maggie. You’re watching her from behind, and though you’ve seen her in uniform countless times you’re suddenly left wondering if her shape has always looked that inviting to grab - or if the teddy had always revealed so much of her ass. She seems far more at home in Hugh’s private quarters than you ever did the first time, and you realise suddenly that it’s very probable this isn’t her first time back here with a guest. The realisation shoots a burst of anxiety through you again, that you try to immediately brush away, that this whole thing really was just expected of you.

Elvis shuts the door behind him when he comes in, immediately setting the mood lighting. Before resting his hand on your back and pulling you in for a quick kiss. It’s strange kissing him again now, you expect for some reason his lips to feel rough in comparison to Maggie’s, masculine instead of her soft femininity, but as always his lips are full and buttery soft a perfect representation of the juxtaposition of his personality. He pulls away too soon and you find yourself leaning into him, eyes still closed, chasing the sensation, pouting when he laughs at you.

“You good to go honey, or do you need a hand givin’ me a show?” You’re confused by what he’s offering, until you notice he’s holding out his hand two little pills sat in it. “Just vitamins baby,” You shake your head, you’re a little nervous but despite the environment you’re working in you’ve not taken anything yet, and the concept of it scares you more than your nerves. You’re surprised though when Maggie’s hand comes from nowhere, plucking one of them out of his palm and swallowing it dry. He beams at her, “Atta girl.” Maggie giggles at him,

“Thank you daddy,” and he glances over at you, sideways, again before swallowing the leftover pill.

He claps his hands, before suddenly, playfully, throwing you over his shoulder and onto the bed. You’re shocked at the display of physicality - not expecting it at all, and even more surprised when a moment later Maggie is thrown in much the same manner, bumping onto the bed and knocking into you. He settles himself up by the cushions, looking expectantly at the pair of you of you sprawled out and he gestures to the rest of the bed. He shifts, settling his hands on his open thighs, the hard outline of his cock almost completely visible through his pants. He clenches them into fists, like he’s trying not to touch. He looks, with his hair wild and his glasses on, so classically - typically Elvis that it makes your heart rate increase just watching him.

“Go on then, pretty little bunnies - wanna see you two - wanna see you havin’ fun. Give me a show.” It’s not a request but a command, and even if you’d wanted to (which you didn’t) you can’t do anything but obey.

Maggie responds with a “Yes, sir,” as you move to situate yourself, kneeling at the bottom of the bed and she crawls over to meet you. This time she takes control, kissing you, her hands moving over the little leather coat-dress. It feels different having her lithe, nylon covered leg pushing in between yours instead of Elvis’ thick thigh. You wouldn’t go so far to say it’s better, but the friction against your thin panties and the way it allows your legs and thighs to stay fairly close, to clench and move is appealing. You can’t help but rock against her, clutching at her waist - she laughs into your mouth, pulling your hair a little as she presses gentle kisses down your neck. You gasp, head falling back, before you pull away to lean forward again, catching her face between your hands, you rub against her, drawing her front back towards you - you giggle, whispering,

“Mags’ I can’t - can’t believe we’re doing this...” Elvis chuckles behind you, clearly you weren’t as quiet as you thought, and that makes you laugh harder. It’s fun and flirty and you haven’t felt this chill about something in a while - the ability to just zone out and enjoy the sensations without having to worry about the future. You start to unbelt your dress, trying to move quickly - frantically, and as soon as you’ve got it unbuttoned Maggie is palming at you, pushing it down your shoulders. She moves forward a little more, and you lean back - letting Elvis get a better look at your newly uncovered skin. She moves her hand to brush against your panty-covered mound and you gasp. Your head falling forward onto her shoulder at the feel, so different from your own fingers or his thick digits, she moves her leg and you’re suddenly humping against nothing - you whine into the air, Elvis interrupting you as you try to pull her back.

“Sl-slow down girls, get tha’ dress off and go a lil’ slower - there’s no rush. No need to rush now - just slow - slow it down.” You nod trying to still your hips, gasping out,

“Ok, ok, daddy - well - we’ll slow -ah- down,” and Maggie pushes you, both of you tumbling backwards. You roll for a moment, the silk of Maggie’s costume rubbing against your skin, the coolness a welcome relief to your burning skin. You suddenly catch, out of the corner of your eye, Elvis shifting, his arm moving at a rapid pace and you don’t know why, considering what you’re currently doing, you’re shocked to realise he has his cock out, that he’s touching himself watching you. You accidentally make eye contact, and you’re taken aback by the look on his face, his lip curling in pleasure. To be watched with such burning desire is shocking, and would be enough to make you shy had you not had this overwhelming sexual confidence come over you from somewhere. You absently think that you should probably help Maggie out of her corset, the pufftail isn’t comfortable to lie in and she was probably wishing for more breathability right now, but before you can offer she’s stroking a finger down you and all thoughts fly out of your head. She looks up at Elvis, questioning something that you can’t hear through your single-minded tunnel vision and hearing, but you manage to catch his reply;

“No - no, just - just, just over top, honey, not - no, that’s just for me.” And she resumes to touching you over the top of the growing dampness of your panties, you groan at the sheer level of objectification; at being spoken about as if you were just there for his amusement, that you were his. Maggie renews her efforts though, and her fingers quickly, even over the soft cotton fabric of your underwear, find the spot to make you squirm, hips bucking into her. She soothes you, and you wonder if you should be reciprocating in some way but as her delicate fingers push the tiniest fold of fabric into you, you’re lost clutching at the fur throw, the slight friction easing as it gathers up your slick. She moves her finger to circle around your clit, bunching the fabric between her thumb and fingers and rubbing it against you. You somehow manage to blink open your eyes, leaning your head all the way back to look at Elvis; his entire focus is on what’s happening between your legs - it causes a shudder to run through you, and your stomach tightens as you feel your legs start to cramp;

“Go on baby, hold it for me, hold it - don’t - want you to keep her just there for me - that’s it. Stop stop, that’s just for me.” She pulls her hand away and your back arches as whine, so close to the edge.

He leans in gripping Maggie’s neck to kiss her and you can hear the wet smack of their lips together, he pulls back, briefly “Don’t worry, honey, don't wanna make you jealous…just wanna say thank you for such a lovely show - that’s alright isn’t it?” You can’t do anything but agree and he returns to her, hands on her neck and head to hold her in place. Watching it up close you can understand why he wanted to watch himself, you wonder if that’s what you look like with him too; all teeth and tongue and lips. You squirm, still feeling the possibility of your orgasm.

“Now go on, there’s a good girl, run along now, thank you darling - You gonna be alright? You want me to get one of the boys to uh, see to ya properly?” She shakes her head, almost fondly as if laughing that she might need his help to find a willing partner. “Well - You tell ‘em I said it’s ok.” He sends her on her way like he’s pimping her out for the night, you hate how it makes your core throb a little, and you can’t help but glow at being the very obviously chosen one; not just one night but two in a row. Maggie looks back at you, still lying on the fur throw, winks and leaves - sauntering through the door. When she’s gone Elvis turns back to you, rubbing sweeping circles on your stomach,

“Just wanna get you goin’ again for me,” His hand starts to trail down, and you don’t know what’s come over you but you put your own out - grasping his wrist to stop him wanting him to know;

“Daddy, I’ve never - that was my first time with,” He laughs,

“Oh, honey, I know, I know. Did you like it?” You nod, and he laughs again, “I’ll bring my camera next time baby, can’t believe Hef’s not got one installed in here somewhere. What a waste.” He tries to move but you hold his hand where it is, causing him to look calculatingly over you, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Was there something you wanted?”

“I…” You squirm under the pressure of his gaze and the tone of his voice.

“C’mon bunny, tell me what you want.” You nod, a bit nervous - but you had stopped his hand for a reason.

“Could you, would you… you know.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face when he responds,

“No, sorry, I don’t.” You whine,

“Ugh - would you, with your tongue?”

“Ohh - you want me to go back down on you? Have another taste of that sweet yittle bunny cunt?” You wriggle at his harsh wording mixed with his babying tone, but you frantically nod. He grins, taking his glasses off and throwing them somewhere on the bed.

“Well ain’t today just my lucky day.” He manhandles you into a better position, ripping your underwear off, pushing you against the cushions and shoving one underneath your hips - moving to situate himself between your thighs. He wiggles like a cartoon about to be served at a restaurant - almost certainly to make you laugh and you comply, nervously giggling, mind preoccupied with hoping that you taste alright now that you’ve asked for it. He spreads you open, kissing your inner thigh before moving closer to your core, and you can feel yourself pulse with anticipation.

He tentatively licks you, just a gentle, wet stripe and you immediately gasp - eyes flying wide open, startled at how sensitive you already felt. Although it shouldn’t come as any surprise, you’d been slick and swollen since you’d fucked earlier, and a bit sore since last night. He flattens his tongue, spreading your folds, and moves his fingers in to keep you spread open. Your hips buck of their own accord when he wets his lips and blows cold air onto you, watching you squirm and clench in response. You can feel his smile before he concentrates again his tongue lapping at your entrance. Your legs come up, needing more support to better grind onto him and your hands move down to grip his hair, thumbs digging into the side of his face, his sideburns, while your fingers find purchase in his long strands, gently holding him in place. He renews his efforts, flicking his tongue in your inner folds and he moves one of his hands to brace your stomach down as he moves to lick directly over your clit - your hips thrusting up enough in response for you to understand the necessity of his hand holding you down. You didn’t realise you could become addicted to the feel of something so quickly, but you’re not sure you’re going to be able to live without someone, preferably him, doing this to you regularly. The warm wet pressure builds, and on top of where you were already on the edge it’s quickly building to be almost too much. He pulls back just as you think you’re about to go over the edge and you groan, but he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick.

“Oh god - is that, is that me on you?” He grins,

“Sure is baby, sweetest honey from my honey bun-bun.” He licks his lips, and you groan again, your tummy flipping from how close you still feel,

“Elvis - Daddy - need you, need more,” He leans back down, whispering, crooning in babytalk to your pussy;

“Oh baby, baby, poor little, yittle, baby bunny - daddy’s gonna take real good care of you now, no more games baby, no that’s right, gonna get you right there,” He presses his lips to your clit kissing it, nose buried in you. Your entire focus is on the sensations as he moves down to spear his tongue into you, so different from a finger or cock and you almost choke from the force of the puff of air you exhale, as he curls it just so; you didn’t even know it was possible to do that and you wonder how much practice at this he really has.

You can’t bear to look down at him anymore, the sight of his long lashes brushing against you, reminding you of who it was between your legs, watching you almost too much and you throw your head back, eyes closing as he thrusts his tongue in and out. He moves to add his thumb in, rubbing over your clit as his tongue continues to do its job, soothingly licking where you’re sore around the entrance to your hole. Your stomach tightens as he maintains a steady pace and you clench around him, thighs coming to rest on either side of his head, as you rock on his tongue and fingers. It’s not long, only moments when the pressure and movement get you there, body jumping as you crest over the wave of your orgasm. He licks you through it, and it means you just keep going. It’s overwhelming, and not something you’ve experienced before, the extended shaking and shuddering as you jolt around, jumping with every fizzle of pleasure. Finally, he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again, panting as you force your body to relax.

A minute or so later you’re able to sit up a little more, opening your eyes properly again. You look over at Elvis and he’s got his cock in his hand - you’re tired but you feel like you have to show him some kind of appreciation for the best orgasm of your life so you lean up on your elbows, reaching a hand down to join his, you pump it once or twice before whispering to him,

“Let me Daddy,” and you sink your mouth down onto him. He gasps in surprise swearing

“Lord hav- oh god baby, bunny, oh shit.” as you hum around him, swallowing. He was clearly already very close and it only takes a couple of moments in the hot, wet, pressure of your mouth and throat before he’s warning you,

“Gonna, it’s, I’m gonna go off baby, it’s - I’m close, real fu-cking close.” And with that he thrusts once, twice, while you hollow your cheeks - sucking down hard and that’s all it takes for him to be spurting into your mouth. You flinch, surprised, despite his warning, at the speed the taste unexpected, but still you swallow it down. “Fuck - fuck, thank you bunny, thank you.” He’s sweet, offering more gratitude than you’ve ever received from a man. You kiss his tip as you pull away and once again fall onto your back. You lie back, panting, and he joins you, curling around you - cuddling into you for the first time since you started this whole thing. You roll into him, enjoying being cradled in his thick arms, trying to comprehend the events of the past forty eight hours and how you’re going to be returning back to your normal life in only another few hours, wondering what Maggie chose to do, when he starts to talk, fingers tracing circles on your arms.

“You know - my daddy’s - I got ‘im buyin’ me my own jet.” Your brow furrows a little, unsure where he’s going with this - “I uh, I - you’ll still have a cute little outfit, I like - like to dress ma girls up but, but I promise it’ll be … stretchy and uh, I won’t - I won’t assume anything but - but I sure would like it if you, you would come on board with me?” He perhaps should have stopped there but he keeps talking, “It also - it would mean more time together, bunny, fewer girls around. Well…fewer in uniform anyway.” You grimace a little - so what is he suggesting; you be his on call plane whore? You hate that you want it, hate that you’re so desperate for him, in any way you can have him - to whatever capacity he’s available that you’re going to agree.

“Of course - that would, that would be a dream come true Elvis, I would love to,” You’re not entirely stupid though. You smile at him, agreeing but not believing - this happens all the time in the clubs too; men promising things that never materialise - the drunker they get the more outlandish the claims; cars, houses, vacations, jobs. You know of too many girls who quit because they were promised a job as someone’s secretary only for the role to never materialise to put too much stock into his question. Besides, you still have two more flights with Elvis already in Big Bunny’s calendar - you were sure there’s more than enough time for him to make the offer again if he was really serious.

“Wha-what’s your schedule like?… You got a boyfriend?” You pause, uncertain where this is going, surely these were questions that should have been asked yesterday? You suddenly realise that you know he’s seeing someone if only from the overheard phone-call but that you also had no idea if you were turning into the other woman or something. Or if you were just a girl to pass the time with.

“I - uh, no. No, no-one. I’m not, we’re kept quite busy…” He frowns, kissing the top of your shoulder,

“Would you, you could come watch a show if you, I’ll get tickets for you and the girls if you want?” You smile,

“That would be lovely, thank you -” He continues,

“You could come a little earlier if you wanted, I’m playing somewhere new tomorrow, well - uh,” he looks over at the clock, grimacing, “Today. So I gotta check the sound and things, you could come to the rehearsal? I want you there baby,” You register some shock at his last words but nod, agreeing, it sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime and you go to say it but you suddenly realise, from the little puffing breaths on your shoulder he’s fallen asleep practically mid-sentence. You look around for the clock, before you, with some wonder, discover there’s still ninety minutes left of the flight and close your own eyes too. The others can do the stewarding, you’re doing the main job - keeping Elvis happy.

#be my ally #be-my-ally #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #70s elvis fanfic #big bunny #big daddy elvis #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you

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fairmerthefarmer · 1 month

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Hello?

So I noticed a huge influx of followers, I kind of thought they were all bots, but after seeing some other posts from some of the blogs these accounts were following (thanks @bob-artist ) I think some of you may just be super new accounts and tumblr recommended me? (I’m very confused rn, my posts have found some people who like the things but they haven’t gotten THAT many reblogs or notes, this is a fairly new account itself)

ANYWAY if you are a real person welcome I guess, if you’re a bot I’ve been taking measures to do my best to protect my art from ai learning software and that’s gonna keep happening. If it turns out everyone’s a bot I’m gonna feel a little silly but I’ll survive.

——————————————————————————-

So now I’m making an introduction post.

I’m Fairmer (The name is both because it’s my name in my stardew save with my sister but also cause I grew up with my dad being a farmer) I’m staying anonymous-ish for now, that may change. But being perceived on social media is scary so we are starting here.

I’m a graphic designer and illustrator living in Manitoba, who burnt out insanely upon graduation and stopped doing illustration outside of my job. I’m new to actually posting on tumblr, or honestly anywhere. Sometime I may link my portfolio here, but right now it’s under construction/being updated.

I’m also queer/bi, and have unexplained chronic pain that’s most likely from endometriosis but I keep most of my complaining about pain on my other blog.

I post mostly fanart so if you like:

- Nancy drew, PC games or otherwise. These in particular have motivated me to get back into actually drawing again.

- other games like Stardew Valley, Spiritfarer, Hollow knight, Hades, etc. (cozy games or otherwise) (also I was a teenage exocolonist except that’s gonna take me like a few business months if I decide to do art for it)

- Narnia, Lord of the rings, fantasy in general (Dnd?)

- Smosh, (current) dropout tv, starkid, tin can bros, shipwrecked, BDG,

- shows like ATLA, Ducktales 2017, ROTTMNT, The Owl house, Tangled the series, Hilda, Over the garden wall, etc.

- HTTYD franchise including riders/defenders of berk and RTTE, mostly rtte.

- like anything else, idk Barbie probably, maybe good omens or dr who? oh also I’m a theatre kid, big fan of hadestown and legally blonde.

You’ll most likely find me posting something at some point involving any of the above. I may post some originals too, but I’m not putting too much pressure on myself here.

Anyway, this is a pretty new account so I don’t have much stuff yet, but If you like my stuff you’re welcome to stay, apologies to any not-bots that attempted to follow me.

I may get into being open for commissions in the future, but for now it is what it is.

Also free Palestine

#artists on tumblr #intro post #this ended up kinda long but that’s what intro posts are like #narnia #atla #Nancy drew pc games #cozy gaming #illustration #smosh #queer artist #hilda #fuck ai art

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wolfsbane44 · 1 year

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-- Rescue Me--

Summary: Bellamy x Reader. Bellamy rescues you from Mt Weather, knowing you need to get to Clarke. He loves you and will do anything to protect you, and make you happy...including taking you for the first time in the forest.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Implied harm, implied entrapment and kidnapping, Scars, Mental health, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, voyeurism, swearing.

I have never done anything with the Reader involved, so It may be a little rough around the edges (or really rough idk lol- but let me know where I can improve)

You and Bellamy had been hiking for miles. With Mt Weather as far as you could put it at your back. So far the Grounders had left you in peace but you weren't sure they wanted to do with anything that came from the mountain. You needed to get to Clarke as fast as you could, but the last time you saw her she was not the same. Lexa dying had changed her, made her into something that no one wished to see. Wanheda had been unleashed, there was no stopping her, she wouldn't even listen to those of us who came down first.

Bel wanted us to stop to find some water and a place to sleep for the night. You were not objecting, especially when he found a small freshwater spring. It was the dead of summer and had to be at least a hundred degrees, and you hadn't seen a shower in lord knows how long. They kept you below. Using your blood and others like you to fix their people. You had been on the Ark with them all, but there was something different in your blood, they would take and take for tests and experiments. Not giving it to their citizens but to their soldiers. They had done this for months now. Scars riddling your arms and legs from the countless needles and restraints they kept you in.

“Breathe sweetheart” Bel whispered. He could see the terror in your eyes as the memories flooded back into your head. He was the one who had saved you. Your knight in shining armor… if that even existed anymore. He had learned what they were doing to you but knew he couldn't take you out immediately. He had to have a plan, otherwise, he would end up in the cages with you. Every day he brought me fresh food and water. Risking being caught, but he never missed one day. You thought that was honesty the only thing that kept you sane.

Stripping off your clothes and getting into the spring was agonizing. It wasn't blissful like people talk about after a “hard day's work” -whatever that was, you had only had a hard life, no breaks- there was no relaxing as you stepped in. The cold waters pierced your bones and your still-healing wounds ached. “Let me help you,” he said reaching his hand out to yours. He was already undressed. This was the first time you had seen all of him. But he had seen you like this every day. Shame washed over your face as you pulled away from him. He didn't push further.

Sinking into the water finally, you let yourself be scrubbed clean. You weren't arguing as you were so sore you could barely move. He let you float in the water as long as you needed, although he got out to wash our clothes. They were all you had other than an extra pair of socks and underwear, and the supplies in the bag that Bellamy had brought. Ration bars, canteens, and a knife. He started a fire in hopes that the smoke would keep the bugs away for the night but kept it small in fear of being spotted. Set his traps for small game praying we wouldn't have to eat rations. You got out and put on your clean underwear as you waited for your clothes to dry. It wouldn't be long with the wind blowing in over the valley.

Bellamy had offered to take the first watch but he never woke you up for yours. He knew you needed sleep, especially after watching you thrash all night- dreaming of lord knows what they did to you that you hadn't told him. It hurt him to see you like this, he knew there was nothing he could do to take this pain away. So he did the only thing he knew how to do, hide and protect you. He had done if for his sister on the Ark, and after falling head over heels for you he would do anything for you down here too. Sunrise came slowly. Bellamy heard a twig snap and immediately woke you up.

With his hand pressed against your mouth, you woke up screaming. It brought back too much, pure panic rushed in your body. You met his stare, his eyes gleaming with nothing but protection and love for you. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you but he wanted you to be able to run if need be. Following him to do what he called a “Perimeter sweep” he discovered it was his trap that had been sprung. A fresh rabbit lay on the ground, still twitching as if its nerves still fighting for its life. Like you had been.

Bellamy ended it swiftly for the poor creature but you couldn't watch. He let you go back and float in the spring again while he prepared the meat. The small fire was just enough to cook the rabbit. It had been at least a month since you even smelled cook meat, let alone tasted it. Your mouth watered. He cooked your portion first, bringing it to you and letting you enjoy those last few minutes before you had to start hiking again.

If you were able to keep the pace you were at, you would be able to reach Arkadia by nightfall. Bellamy walked hand in hand with you even singing to you to make the time pass. To make you think of anything other than fear. Stopping for a break around midday, you saw sweat glistening off of him. Taking his shirt off to cool down you saw the muscles that lined his beautiful torso. He caught you enjoying yourself and taking him all in.

Walking over to you he stooped down and placed a kiss on top of your head, then your nose, and finally your mouth. It wasn't long before his hands found their way into your shirt. Begging him to take it off, as you could see the fire in his eyes. He wanted you, all of you, right here and now. Your kiss hardened and turned passionate, tongues clashing he picked you up and set you on his lap, and you wrapped your legs and arms around him.

You could feel his length hardening beneath you. The wetness pooling at your core. The ache in your stomach, longing for him to fill you up. He could sense it as he picked you up and laid you on your back in one swift but gentle motion. His body pushing against yours he only stopped to take off your pants. His eyes went straight to your core “Fuck sweetheart, all of that for me” he whined. His eyes meeting yours, all you could do is say “Bel… Please” and he knew what that meant. He was so gentle with you always making sure you were okay. Sitting between your legs he traced one long line up your slit with his tongue. Pure bliss washed over you, you hadn't felt this way in a long time. Before you could think anymore his mouth had begun to ravage you. His tongue flicked small circles on your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance, making sure you would be ready to take him. Slowly he pushed one inside, then another, and you moaned “Bellamy, fuck me please!” pumping a couple more times touching that perfect spot inside you he pulled you close into a kiss.

Reaching for his belt, then his zipper, you pulled his member out as fast as you could. He was above average, but not so big that he would hurt you. He was perfect. Pumping him with your hands a few times he pushed you back and lined himself at your entrance. Passing a glance to check on you, you nodded and he slowly pushed inside of you. All the way to the hilt. Pleasure washed over you as the very tip of him kissed the spot inside that he knew would send you over the edge. He started thrusting slowly. He didn't want to just fuck you. He wanted to love you. This was your first time with him and he wanted you to enjoy it, feeling all of him. He lifted your legs up, positioning your knees by your chest, his hands pushing down on the backs of your thighs and helping him balance. He began slamming into you. White washed over your eyes and ringing pierced your ears before you could tell him you were close.

Coming back down his hand began making small circles on your clit. He fucking loved seeing you this way, seeing you ride out your high with him buried deep inside you. You were so close to cumming again when you saw his breath stagger. “Come in me” you begged him. You needed to feel his warmth inside of you. Just as you felt that seed spill into you, your own high washed over you sending you back into oblivion. His pumping slowed and came to a halt. He lowered your legs and began cleaning you up. He thanked himself for bringing some hygiene supplies because his thick white cum poured out of you dripping down your bottom.

You let him clean you and help you get dressed, you both knew you needed to start hiking again if you were going to make it home in time. “That was the hottest shit I have seen in a while Bellamy” came from the trees. Eyes spinning around. Murphy. He really sat there and watched it all. No embarrassment washed over you but relief as you ran to hug him. You had no idea how he escaped the mountain. He was your best friend and had been since you had been imprisoned in the Ark. You never had a thing for him but you could see how pissed Bel was that he watched.

“How about next time I join in” Murphy jokingly shouted from ahead the trail. You smirked at Bellamy knowing this was going to be a long hike home.

#the 100 #bellamy blake #bellamy smut #bellamy x reader #forest

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mhsdatgo · 2 months

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Coming from a Team Green stan, people using the term "bastards" to refer to Luke, Jace and Joff as if that was an excuse to hate them makes me fucking snort. Yes we know they're bastards, so what. It's what they've heard and been told all their life. If that is enough reason for you to think they deserve shit thrown on them then Imma need you to take off your Westerosi lord "they're born of lesser flesh" whore's best friend heart shaped sunglasses real quick and see them as actual characters because you sound no less blood purity obsessed than TB thinking that "Hightower blood" is enough reason to hate anything regarding Alicent's children.

To think that they aren't deserving of lands and titles is perfectly fine when you look at it from Westerosi people's point of view, but that's no reason to hate them at all? (This also applies to some TB stans who storm the posts of maybe a guy who's chilling reading a book and make it their LIFE MISSION to protect them like they're their mama anytime someone barely mentions it.)

One may find various reasons to like or dislike them. You may dislike Luke for slicing Aemond's eye and never feeling a shred of remorse about it, you may like Luke because you think he did what he thought was best in order to protect his brother (although they could've escaped to their mom the moment he was blinded by dirt, but at least they spared themselves a scolding for being up and about at 3 AM going for someone's throat with a real dagger).

You may dislike Jace because he picked after his mother's "who cares what others think we rule lmao" ass line. You may like Jace because when he said that, he was trying to uplift his little brother who was growing self-conscious about the way other lords and ladies were staring at him. It's understandable. They aren't 2D characters everyone must either love or hate.

If you really want someone to blame for how things turned out, why don't you blame Rhaenyra for thrusting them into failure and sending her 13 year old out knowing the Greens would've sought allegiances as well? I don't know, at least send someone who would've been able to outrun Aemond, idk. You call yourself Queen, girl. Choose someone else, that ain't my job. Why don't you blame Daemon for wanting to send kids as envoys when they've got no experience whatsoever and their dragons are literally just babies?

Remember they were never part of a war until their mother pushed them in. They weren't "thieves" for "stealing" Driftmark. Luke didn't even WANT Driftmark. They just wanted to beef with their uncles in peace for the love of God. That they grew up spoiled brats is another story, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.

Personally I don't love or hate Jace or Luke. We've been given wayyy too little scenes for them to look anything else other than Aemond's and Aegon's punching bags, respectively. Except for Jace who got me cheering and screaming for him when he was literally THE ONLY ONE WHO STOOD UP FOR RHAENYRA IN EP.10 but yeah, that was the end of it.

Find new reasons to like and dislike characters. Anything that doesn't involve sounding like an aryan race supporter, thank you.

#hotd #team green #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys strong #jace strong #lucerys velaryon #lucerys strong #luke strong #joffrey velaryon #joffrey strong #joff strong #you'll never catch me not slipping something anti Daemon in my posts #ever

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myuiis · 3 months

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(same anon who asked for sinu analysis) well first off let me ask your thoughts on YeonhuixSinu

Despite my undying love for this man- I'll admit they're cute n all BUT I always felt it was undeveloped.

I don't know if it's just me but when Jason (I think) said he'd snitch about him being with neko to her I was confused back when he was still under the influence of those pills at workers. Like, Did I miss something? Did I forget something from the gaps between the arcs? Idk. But even if she was shown to be worried over Sinu, it didn't seem romantic at all especially that all the big deal girls cared too. PTJ also made it seem like an already established relationship and I'm still questioning when?? She seemed to know him well and all but no hinting of any romantic attraction was there, just your average big deal romanticism and admiration lol.

I understand that PTJ has to leave some details away for the sake of the pacing but I think he could've at least thrown some hints here and there.

ok yeah. so this won't be a super long post because i am tired but good lord i am very... lukewarm about sinu and yeonhui. im with you on the "who?" when yeonhui was mentioned again in 2a. now im glad that sinu is with someone he's happy with but man... sinu and yeonhui is just such a mid ship compared to literally anyone else he could've been shipped with. let me explain.

yeonhui's lack of presence in the story. now this is probably the main reason i find this ship so lackluster. how am i supposed to root for a ship when the female love interest is literally like npc #125? while she did have more presence than the other girls on the street, this isn't really a high bar considering ptj's track record writing female characters. and this isn't to say she was boring or had a bland personality either (even though she KINDA did...). she was strong and independent, stood up to samuel when he tried to extort them for money (iirc), bore the burden of sinu's sacrifice and stayed strong for big deal, and was there to comfort jake when he learned of the news. she could've been a REALLY interesting character because she was so strong and also stuck to her ideals in the same way sinu did, so they could've been such a power couple, had yeonhui been developed more. it would've been nice to see yeonhui and sinu strategize about how to protect big deal together, or see more of yeonhui bandaging and caring for sinu after he gets hurt, or seeing sinu bring yeonhui gifts and money... or anything, really. the two have barely have any substantial interactions over the entire arc besides the last part where sinu's about to sacrifice himself, so much so that it makes me wonder... who is this yeonhui person? why are they important again.

chemistry. this mainly comes up to personal preference but yeonhui and sinu feel more like an older sister-younger brother dynamic to me. yeonhui took sinu in as a child, fed, clothed, and cared for him, and then continues to take care of him as an adult, which comes off as big sis behavior. again, some people may like this dynamic romantically, but i personally find it super platonic and sibling-leaning.

other sinu ships. idk. just find it a LITTLE heteronormative that any man and woman who share a little bit of screentime together are instantly a couple while sinu and jake can be out here pulling "you are my everything" and "i came back to big deal for you and you alone, jake" moments, and they'll still be just "good bros". again, kind of up to personal preference, but if you compare yeonhui x sinu to jake x sinu or even samuel x sinu, there's a clear lack of interactions and chemistry for yeonhui x sinu

so yeah. thats kinda it. this ended up being way longer than i expected so im not gonna write a conclusion paragraph but those are my thoughts around yeonhui and sinu together romantically.

#lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #jake kim #samuel seo #sinu han #yeonhui #kim gimyung #kim gimyeong #han shinwoo #seo seongeun #big deal #lookism rant #myuiis bullshit

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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Idea by @thingy-mar (idk if this is what you wanted.)

Bring me a dream

“You don’t…remember your dreams?” Morpheus asked of you one day, his curiousness peaked when you relied this piece of information to him in a moment of security. “No, I don’t, try as I might but there’s nothing tangible for me to grasp ahold of to relay in my waking life.” The lord of dreams and nightmares didn’t speak, only listening to your every word intently, “Whether it’s be a horrific nightmare or the most beautiful dream…I can’t remember any of it even if I awake in tears.”

You looked over at him, feeling a little downcast at the thought of lacking the ability to relive your dream through verbal methods as brief flashbacks blare at the forefront of your mind like a miniature movie of sorts that only you could bare witness to. It must be nice to relive the best parts and fear the worst that came with dreaming; you knew you weren’t the only one who couldn’t remember their dreams nor nightmares but yet you couldn’t help feeling as though you were missing out on something truly spectacular.

Morpheus thought for a moment before speaking, “I could help you remember.” He offered offhandedly as though he was lending you aid in finding a lost cat or misplaced rucksack. To this, you were quick to decline, “oh I couldn’t ask that of you, after all my dreams aren’t probably all that worth remembering if I can’t recall even the slightest of details.” Not that you would admit aloud but you were certain that this was Morpheus’ way of opening up to you and gaining your trust by offering up his services he’d deem fit for your situation. It was sweet and all but you were being serious when you told him that it probably wasn’t all that intriguing if you couldn’t remember even a lick of it.

Besides he’s probably already seen them and didn’t think much of them and this was more out of pity as to quiet your restless thoughts. “Morpheus?” You called out to him when you noticed that the man has stopped walking to stare into the side of your head with his dead set gaze that would be enough to put anyone on edge. “Your dreams are what artisans could ever hope to achieve in a lifetime; they are the muses of the greatest authors and poets of human history as they write volume after volume, sonnet after sonnet, rendition after rendition in hopes to even capture a mere fraction of their true beauty.” Morpheus told you as he reached for your hand, “your nightmares strike emotions within me that make me feel the need to protect you,” he scoffs, “however if I recall our first encounter as clearly as you do, then protection the last thing you’d need.”

You chuckled, reminiscing the moment you met the darkly clothed lord after misinterpreting him as a creep stalking you. You chuckled even harder when remembering how profusely you apologised to him after clearing the air between the two of you. “You still have the scar? Or have you healed that entirely?” Morpheus instinctually reached a hand towards the strands of hair that concealed his hairline fondly. “Though the scar may have healed, the memory remains like one.”

“I’m sorry.” You said meekly, easing up when the male merely shrugged in a silent notion that bygones were bygones, causing a sense of relief to relive the tension within your shoulders. “My offer still stands, I can make you remember your dreams if you so wish to behold their beauty firsthand.” Morpheus states after a brief moment of silence. If there was one thing you’ve come to notice about Morpheus it was how tenacious he is when he willed himself to be. It was admirable in the best of moments but a nuisance in the worst. “I’d prefer if I viewed them through your point of view, you make them come across as quite mystical.” You jested lightheartedly.

“That’s because they are.” Morpheus replied as though it was obvious. As though it was law and it made you flattered to know that the lord of where dreams and nightmares thrived seemed to take interests in yours the most out of the millions he’s seen. “Allow me to show you.” He said as he pulled out his pouch of sand, pinching it between his fingers as he blew it gently into your face, causing you to fall into a slumbering state.

Tag list: @mess-in-side

#morpheus x reader #Morpheus x you #Morpheus imagines #Morpheus imagine #the sandman fic #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x reader #the sandman imagines #the sandman x you #Morpheus fanfic #Morpheus fic

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thewitchqueenofharrenhal · 4 months

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So I am mulling over a Baelon AU where baby Baelon lives while Viserys dies (blood magic) so there is a regency. Aemma is queen regent and doesn't tolerate Daemon's shenanigans around Rhaenyra. I can still see Laenor/Rhaenyra because the Velayrons need to be appeased and a niece married to Baelon closes that loop. So my question, how does Aemma deal with the bastard issue (ignore it, warn off Harwin, close ranks around Rhaenyra and Laenor), would Cole be her war dog, and what the frick is Otto up to, other than being a passable Hand? I can actually see him pushing Rhaecient.

First I think Aemma would need to shore up support asap, I can’t recall who was ruling House Arryn at the moment but I think it would make sense to me at least for her to bring some strong Arryn relatives around herself. It would probably be in her best interest to make good friends with Rhaenys & Corlys as well. Council seat for an Arryn she can trust, one for Corlys, perhaps bring forth a Tyrell to staunch those overreaching Hightowers?

I don’t see her having *too* much difficulty as a regent seeing as she’s a granddaughter of the Old king, daughter of a Major house, mother to an heir & daughter.

If Laenor & Rhaenyra wed is their unborn daughter set to be married to Baelon? And if so is this princess going to (really be Harwin’s). Realistically if Corlys & Rhaenys are appeased with the marriage between Rhaenyra & Laenor there shouldn’t *really* be a problem? But I mean the dynamic changes entirely Rhaenyra is still a princess but no longer set to inherit anything. She is more at Laenor’s grace than vice versa.

However the question of successions would still be an issue. Will Corlys & Rhaenys be okay with the next lord of tides being a bastard? ( in canon they claim to do so but Lucerys is conveniently set to wed their unquestionably Targaryen/Velaryon granddaughter) & the issue of Silent 5 arises again.

I think a (bastard Targaryen Queen) wouldn’t be as much of an issue for Baelon seeing as he is unquestionably a Targaryen but again will Corlys & Rhaenys be okay with their *granddaughter* not *really being their granddaughter*. If Corlys & Rhaenys are supporting her I don’t see their being a question from others - The Princess being a brunette can be pushed as perhaps a mix on that Baratheon/Arryn blood. Plus a Queen isn’t going to inherit anything? Bonus if this Princess is a dragon rider with a dragon riding husband and a family that supports her unquestionably.

Daemon can be curtailed as long as he is cut off. By that I mean he can’t be allowed to make an alliance with Corlys & Rhaenys. Especially with Laena in the fray. Laena’s blood and name are too strong to be wedded to just anyone and her children will have claims that can be used against a potential (bastard lord of the tides / Queen consort) thus her marriage has to be key point in a decision for Aemma she’s simply too important. I’d almost want Laena to be wed to Baelon but idk if that works timeline wise. Daemon regardless still has to be watched on account of dragon riding Prince and all.

This may be far fetched on my end but I don’t see Rhaenyra having three bastards if Aemma lived. Book canon Rhaenyra was clearly a lonely and abused child and desperate for love and family. I think if her mother had lived to protect her - she would have been in a much better place - that’s not to say I can’t see her falling in love with Harwin because I can but I can see her having 1 bastard son or daughter and Aemma spelling out the danger for her as clear as day. I don’t think Aemma would separate her daughter from her beloved but I do think she’s put some fear into Harwin & just really push the secrecy narrative if they are to continue. I hate the idea of Rhaenyra or Laenor forced to do things against their will because hello (r*pe) but perhaps Aemma can speak to some maesters figure out some artificial insemination Westerosi science LOL. Or push Rhaenyra towards a fairer haired lover :/ maybe with a push from Harwin for the sake of their very lives.

Because it’s just sooooo muc easier for everyone to brush off 1 dark haired dark eyed child especially when it’s siblings are clearly Valyrian, after all wasn’t Alyssa Targaryen not necessarily Targaryen looking? Bonus points if Corlys & Rhaenys don’t catch on because who would? It’s been known to happen before Alysanne was blue eyed and blonde and if they can still ride a dragon?

Cole is so funny to me because as long as he’s kept in the dark and thinks he’s being a *true knight* he is exceptionally helpful and I can 100% see him falling for the perfect noble Queen Aemma like he did for Alicent so definitely War Dog. I think like Daemon his nasty self does need to be kept away from the underage princess Rhaenyra, not to say they can’t interact but the relationship they have in book is clearly so unhealthy Alicent even points out who protects Rhaenyra from Cole?

Otto is fucked with an unquestionable son on the throne. I still think he would be power grasping but he simply wouldn’t have the same sway. I do think he’d want to stay in power and if Aemma can use him why not? but while not nearly as important as Laena’s marriage it would be interesting to see where he would push Alicent to wed. Does he dare make a play for Daemon? 💀 does he accept Alicent being a beloved lady of the Princess Rhaenyra at Driftmark? Does he make a bid for Laena to the Hightower? While he be fine waiting in the wings to see if he can push his nonexistent grandchildren into the royal family by showing himself unwaveringly loyal and Alicent & Rhaenyra being so close?

#Riana #ask #au #basically I just speculated too #so sorry if it’s not a good answer friend 😭#but I had fun trying to think about it

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rockintapper · 3 days

Text

the um

te sec2ond one

ok so basically i say whar i think about rhythm heavem chatacters. starting with Tengoku brcuase why nawt

readmore ebcuase this posr long as hell!!!!! please work this time

karate joe: hi kasper the he <3 i wana hug him,

hair vegetables: what Thr fcuk

sarge: idk. attention march

squadmates: petar

air batter AIRBATTERR 💕💞💕💞💕💕💞💕💞💕💕💞💕💞💕💞💞💕💞

space umpire: perpetual smiler

the clappy trio: your sequel stinks!!!! /sillay i love your wigs

sneaky spirits: get bow and arrow'd l plud ratio /j

samurai steve: hi sage hes really cool actual6 #chilling

yokai (the thingies the samurai slices): pe uliar little cratures. up to no good

rats: thr cheese

ms. whiskers: THE FIRST CAT EVER!!!!!!!!!!!

sick beats doctor/dr. cutlery: hes vibing ong. why do you hsve an endless game

thr viruses: leav that litlle guy alone >:(!!!!!!!

yellow organism (sick beats): little guye :) dj yelo

the donpans: theyre all dating your honor

yagura-chan: spiteful luttle child i love her. may she grow up and pan

mahou tsukai: hi rocket The WIZARB!!!! magic autism

ojou-chan: flowers autism

the monster (wizard's waltz): STOP EATING MY PLANTS

pengiuns (showtime): yhe dillays i love them they deerve the worl

monkey (showtime): i just read about him. gonna make him explode now

rabbit: boing boing boing boing boing b

tram and pauline/poline: hi cheese THE FOXES the foxes ever hth foxes ever the

space gramps: i widh he was my grangpa 💔 /j

space dancers: pa-pa-pa-PUNCH! put some respect on my boys plea

q maou: AAGH. AAH. AAHHG. AG

contestant: hi 56 hes. hes jist like me frfr /hj

play-yan: hi sunny i really liek. his uh level. minigame. wharever it s called its like. really calming. unless im Going for a Perfect!

mini chounin (power caligraphy): the dancing dancers

akai mono (polyrhythm): i uh. i dont have anything about these thangs. what

RAPMEN: YO. SANJI DESUKA

urakata aki to ki (bouncy road): my children. i love them. i would Kill for th

spheroids (bouncy road): you have a page? on the rh wiki? what?

ninja and the lord (ninja no shison/ninja bodyguard): augh

toss boys: hi ninety The toss bous. they hehheeh3he hugs ao-kun

yuka: YIPPR YIPEEE YIPEE YIPEEEE YIPEEEOEIRIRJ HI T YUKAIEJEBE ^_^ totally isnt dating a tall tapper shes totally not dating a tall ta /lie

giraffe: dont fucking look at me like that

tanaka (ninja reincarnate): AAHHHHHAHAHAEHRHDSHSHEHD /VPOS I LOVE HIM IDK WHERE THIS LOVE FOR HIM CAME FROM BUT I LOVR HIM

kanojo: ypure in good hands. mostly. (cant get the fast part of ninja reincarnate)

waru mono (ninja reincarnate): w,,ario?? w

soshiSOSHIIIIIIII SSOHIIIIII SOSIIOOII SOSHIII EOSBSISI SHSOHSHSIJSSOSHUSII SHSOOSIUSHISJS SOOHSIIII SOSHIII SSOSHISJEOWSHIWJEOWJWJSJSSJEJESK SOSHSISB SSOSHHS

cosmic girl: Rude™ (/hc). may also be the commander in amrching oerders 2,

cosmic dancers: space dancers HATE THEM! /silly

TH RAPP WOEMNEKENENNE kan sbejebdjeTHR RPA WOMRN THEJEBR YURIIIIIIIII JRIIII YUEIII YUIII!!! YHRIIII hi cheese

MAN-K: mN i lovr him hes so cool dud e whaha

biribiriuo (night walk 2): STOP ELECTROCUTING PLAY YAN 💔💔💔💔

usamimi maki sensei: i love the face she makes whe n i press a button too earlu/late. may also be cosmic girl

space rabbits: ive seen you in waroiware.... pets yu

buta-san (tengoku remix 7): pigy :]

barista: i hc his voice is jasmine wright's from the rh iceberg

people at the café: only (canon) black person in the entire series helooo

neko machine: meow. meow. meow.meow owah owah mah? mah? o-mah? m

honse machien: wha,

love-san: suki (cheering)

mr. upbeat: hi tomano tucking him in giving him a goodnight kiss and a glass of milk <3

mannequin; i wonder what game yoyll be in the futue

anata: hi 56 i love his goofy ass smile go girl give us everything

drum girls: wait whered they come fro

samurai drummer: no way. it Tsunk

samurai drummer's band: i did not know you existed hello??

oba-chan: protect. protect. protect.

pwner: Kill. Kill. Kill Kill. Kill. Kill. Ki

producer: who tf are you? what? wait lemme rrad about yo7 furst

im back. music autism

ok thats all the characters in rhythm tengok!!! thanks for Did yiu read all of tjis? zamn!! congrats dude /gn

#long post #rhythm tengoku #rhythm heaven

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star-girl69 · 2 years

Text

We Do Not Wilt - Chapter Six - We Do Not Mourn

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!FemOC

a/n: this was actually one of my favorite chapters to write and i hate to sound nerdy but honestly really challenged me as a writer and i’m quite proud of it i mean it’s not that amazing but i just hope you all enjoy it as much as i do

also i just wanna mention that everything i have written so far has not been proofread by anyone other than me so i could be sounding absolutely crazy here idk

*****also i know that the family hug at the end is so unrealistic but i took creative license and i couldn’t resist so****

warnings: mentions of blood, violence, knife, swearing, injury, tell me if i missed anything!!!

—-

May ran through the halls, bursting through the doors with Daemon just behind her. She looked around, finding Alicent and her children standing by the fire. May ran forward, Alicent grasping her arms. She looked towards Aemond, the gash on his face, over his eye.

“Aemond!” May let go of Alicent, falling to her knees in front of him. He was trying to act strong, but May saw the tear in his eyes, the pain he was in. He tried to hide it, but May noticed the tears in his eye. “It’s alright,” May placed a hand on his face. “I know, I know. It’s alright.” He didn’t believe her.

“How could you let this happen?” Viserys asked Ser Harrold. “I will have answers.”

“The princes were supposed to be abed, My King.”

“Who had the watch?” Alicent stood next to May, breathing erratic.

“The young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace.” May’s eyes flicked to Lucerys and Jacaerys, who were holding each other tightly. Where were their parents? She thought, words dripping with venom.

“You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!” Viserys shouted.

“I’m very sorry, Your Grace.” Ser Harrold said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

“The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes.” Ser Criston said. Viserys stepped forward.

“That is no answer!”

“It will heal, will it not, maester?” Alicent asked, as the maester cleaned Aemond’s wound. The hall grew silent, and everyone turned to them.

“The flesh will heal,” He responded. “But the eye is lost, Your Grace.” Alicent let out a breathy sob, and May bit back tears for her poor, sweet nephew.

Alicent turned on Aegon. “Where were you?”

“Me?” She slapped him. May gasped, unable to get up from her knees. She had been six months pregnant when the babe died, and her stomach was only dead weight.

She remembered waddling around the Keep, maids or Daemon always helping her to stand.

“What was that for?” Aegon yelled, hand pressed to his cheek.

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.” She hissed, hitting his chest lightly.

“What is the meaning of this?!” May flinched at the voice of Lord Corlys, him and Princess Rhaenys running down the stairs.

“Baela, Rhaena! What happened?” The princess shouted, wrapping the girls up tight in her arms while they cried.

“Jace? Luke!” Rhaenyra shouted, running towards her children and kneeling in front of them. May noticed Ser Harwin trailing behind her. They seemed to have arrived together. May fought the urge to gag. His wife’s body not even cold. “Show me, show me, who did this?” She yelled upon seeing Luke’s broken nose.

“They attacked me!” Aemond shouted.

“He attacked Baela!”

“He broke Luke’s nose!”

The hall was filled with the shouting of all the children, placing blame on the other, giving justifications. May wasn’t even sure what they were saying.

“Enough.” She heard Viserys proclaim, but the children could not hear him over the sound of their own anger. “Enough-“

“It should be my son telling the tale!” Alicent shouted, hand to her chest.

“Silence!” Viserys bellowed, banging his cane onto the floor. The hall turned quiet. Rhaenyra’s children leaned down to whisper to her. She stood up, standing in front of them. “Aemond… I will have the truth of what happened. Now.”

“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible.” Alicent blamed.

“It was a regrettable accident.” Rhaenyra tried, although May could tell she didn’t quite believe her own words.

“Accident?” May asked from her place at the floor. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my nephew.”

“Another Hightower on her knees in front of a Targaryen. How fitting,” Ser Harwin mused, eyes flicking to all three Hightowers in the room. He walked toward Rhaenyra, standing next to her and the boys. He made no effort to hide his insult. His eyes settled on May.

Shame fills her.

“Brother,” Daemon said, voice hoarse with anger. “He is attacking my wife. I cannot stand for this. I will not.”

“I meant nothing by it, My Prince. Simply pointing out a fact.”

“All of you-“ Viserys took a breath. “Cease this bickering. This is about the children.” May glanced back at Daemon, seeing him stare at Ser Harwin with a vengeance.

“Daemon, my love, help me up, please,” May whispered, and he could not ignore her call. His hands curled under her shoulders, lifting her high. It was a show of strength, May knew, and she felt Daemons hands slip around her waist as her feet touched the ground.

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves.” Rhaenyra proclaimed. “Vile insults were levied against them.” Viserys turned.

“What insults?”

“The legitimacy of my sons birth was put loudly to question.”

“What?”

“He called us bastards,” One of Rhaenyra’s boys said. May turned to Aemond. He knew better.

“My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.” May put a hand over her heart.

“Over an insult?” Alicent asked, voice breathy with disbelief. “My son has lost an eye.” Her voice was rough, coarse with pain for her son.

“You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?” Viserys questioned.

“The insult was training hard bluster. The lot of boys, it was nothing-“

“Aemond…” Viserys interrupted his wife. “I asked you a question.”

“Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys father? Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter.”

“Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, Your Grace. I… could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk.”

“Entertaining his young squires is what I would venture.” Everyone looked at Alicent. To say something like that so boldly about the future King Consort was something that would surely be remembered.

“Aemond… Look at me.” Aemond’s eye looked upwards to his father. “Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”

May felt her breath stop as Aemond looked over to his mother. No. No. She could not lose her sister. May leaned back into Daemon, grabbing at his arms around her.

“No, no,” She whispered, and Daemon whispered softly into her ear.

“He is a smart boy. Do not fret, my love,”

Viserys turned to Alicent, then back to his son. May wanted to scream. Aemond looked back at his father.

“It was Aegon.”

“Me?” The boy asked, staring at the ground. Viserys walked towards him.

“And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies?” He didn’t answer. “Aegon!” Viserys yelled loudly, and May flinched. “Tell me the truth of it!”

“We know, father.” He swallowed. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.” Everyone turned to Rhaenyra and her family. Fear sparked in her eyes, and she grabbed at her children, pulled them closer.

“This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it.” Tears welled in Alicent’s eyes.

“That is insufficient. Aemond has been damaged permanently, My King. ‘Good will’ cannot make him whole.”

“I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken.”

“What would you have me do?”

“There is a debt to be paid.” May’s eyes widened. While she agreed that it was not enough, she would never command the taking of a child’s eye. “I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return.”

“My dear wife,” Viserys said haltingly, taking a step forward.

“He is your son, Viserys.” May let go of Daemon, walked swiftly to her sister. She grabbed her arms, then her chin. Forced her to look into her eyes.

“Alicent, sister, do not do this.” Her voice became a whisper. “Do not ruin all that we have worked for. Do not sully the Hightower name.”

“He is your blood,” Alicent whispered. May nodded.

“He is. And you are mine. I will not lose you to this.”

“Alicent…” Viserys started, walking closer. “Do not allow your temper to guide your judgement.” He looked the two women up and down.

“If the king will not seek justice the Queen will.” Her voice was cold, unforgiving. “Ser Criston… bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.”

“Mother!” Luke shouted, and May felt for the child. She dug her nails into Alicent’s arms, hoping the pain will shock her back into reason.

“Alicent. Do not do this, sister. I beg of you.”

“He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing.” Rhaenyra declared, voice filled with fear. May could not blame her.

“Stay your hand,” Viserys said to Ser Criston. Alicent wrenched herself from May’s hold.

“No, you are sworn to me!” She shouted. Love for her son was fogging her mind. The room waited for the knight’s response.

“As your protector, my Queen.”

“Alicent, this matter… is finished.” Viserys spoke. “Do you understand?” He stood barely a foot in front of her. Alicent’s eyes searched Viserys’, seeming not to find what she was looking for. “And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares the question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons should have it removed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Viserys turned.

Alicent rushed forward, grabbing the dagger the king always carried and marching toward Rhaenyra. Shouts rent the air, May’s included.

Rhaenyra turned around and grabbed Alicent’s arms. The children screamed, Daemon ran to May. Before he could come to her, May had run over to her sister.

She would do anything for her.

Rhaenyra put a hand on May’s chest, keeping her at arms length. May’s fingers went to her hand, but found that the Princess’ grip was strong, nails dug into her chest. Rhaenyra’s other hand grabbed Alicent’s arm, the one with the knife in it. Alicent’s other arm grabbed Rhaenyra’s arm, the one holding May. Her nails dug into Rhaenyra’s sleeves.

Rhaenyra’s audacity to put her hands on May only fueled the fire inside of Alicent.

“You’ve gone too far.” Rhaenyra hissed.

“Us?” Alicent asked, a tear falling down her face. The three women shuffled back and forth, feet losing and gaining purchase on the floor.

“What have we done, but what was asked of us? Expected of us?” The shame May had felt when Harwin had insulted her, the words Otto had proclaimed all those years ago, foreseeing the death of Alicent’s children, the pain Aemond was suffering all fueled May’s anger. Daemon always said she had a piece of dragon fire in her. This was the fire.

“Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law!” Alicent shouted. Rhaenyra eyed the knife. “While you flout it all to do as you please!” May felt her own tears fall down her face.

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? Respect, honor?” May shouted. Her voice dropped. “It’s trampled under your pretty foot again.”

“Release her, my girls.” Otto’s voice. The two women ignore him, for once in their lives. They are consumed by this anger, this passion, this fire.

“You take Aemond’s eye!” May screamed, tears falling faster.

“And to even that, you feel entitled.” Alicent hissed.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness.” Her eyes flicked from May to Alicent. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Now they see you as you are.” Alicent let out a yell, knife coming down to slash Rhaenyra’s arm. Her other arm swooped out, taking May with her.

Revenge is bittersweet.

May wanted to scream more. She wanted everyone to know that it was not them in the wrong- it was Rhaenyra. All she did was take and take. She has taken Aemond’s eye, she takes a lover, she takes duty and honor and bathes it in dragonfire. Where is her respect? Her common decency? Does she just not realize how lucky she is? She is free. She is free to take eyes, to take lovers, to take duty and honor and bathe it in dragonfire because she is a princess, and the rest of the world is beneath her.

May can admit that most of her anger towards Rhaenyra stems from jealously, and she is undeserving of it. She knows that. She knows her flaws. But it is so hard not to grow to hate that woman when she flaunts her freedom in front of the world.

May wanted to tell her that they know she will take Alicent’s children and kill them for the throne. That that promise from Otto has hung over them like a blade day after day.

Who else is there to blame, except Rhaenyra? That has been drilled into her since she came to King’s Landing, to the den of vipers called the Red Keep. That’s all Otto had told her.

Rhaenyra was to blame. Rhaenyra had to be to blame, because that is what her father told her and that must be true. He would not lie to her and Alicent. He loves his daughters.

May let out a sob.

“It’s alright,” Alicent murmurs, wrapping her arms around May’s neck. Aemond walks over, placing his head onto May’s chest.

May wraps an arm around him in response, and Alicent removes one of her arms from May’s neck to wrap around him.

The hall clears out. They do not move.

Helaena walks over, tears in her eyes, her hatred of violence showing. She buries her face into her mothers neck, and Alicent adjusts her arm to wrap around her as well. Aegon stays off to the side.

“Come here, sweetling,” Alicent murmurs and he puts his face into his aunts hair.

It is a sweet moment. And Alicent wonders if she holds tight enough, she can keep her family together like this. Forever.

The toll of the day has been felt on Alicent. Her sisters eyes are spilling tears, and Alicent can only think of her and her children. She has lost so much today. Her son’s eye, the respect of the king, of the court. She has sullied the Hightower name, all because of this anger, this need for revenge that she could not contain. And she dragged May into it, dragged her children into it.

Was this her punishment? For wounding Rhaenyra, demanding one of her children’s eyes. She would take it all back. She would give her own eye, if it meant her family could stay like this for just a few moments longer.

But Alicent knows her foolishness has ruined them. And for once, she does not know how to fix this.

“Do not mourn me.” Aemond whispers. “I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.”

From somewhere on Driftmark, Vhagar roars.

—-

#daemon targaryen x oc #daemon x oc #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #queen alicent #game of thrones #house of the dragon #king viserys targaryen #princess rhaenyra #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader

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