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quinloki · 1 year

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Asking for a second round for the kinks

What about Lactophilia, Negotation and Pegging with croco, doffy and corazon

That list Is so usefull >3

I almost answered this as soon as I saw it and I was like - no, no Quin you gotta do some writing ( and I did! and today has been a pita, so I'm going to answer this and unwind).

I almost wanted to lump "Negotiation" and say "all OP characters negotiate properly because it's a foundational rule of BDSM and kinks" - but! I realized two things: 1 - not all OP characters are non-toxic, and 2 - there's a lot of variance in how negotiations can be handled, so we can do that \o/

I'd do this by Character, but I kind of want to do it by Kink - I think it'll be better for the subtle differences between Sir Crocodile and Doflamingo (who are very similar), and also help highlight the dichotomy between Doflamingo and Rosinante.

*puts on glasses* Lacto-philia - well, I don't need to look this one up (go-go root word language course from college) - this is the enjoyment of breast milk. Kin-kay <3

Lactophilia -

Sir Crocodile: I dunno - Croco just doesn't strike as a "drink from the source" kind of guy, and while I could see him utilizing any lactation on his partner's part in some kind of kink session I feel like it would be tied to humiliation more than lactation. But it would also depends on his partners reaction to their own lactation.

If any part of it makes them uncomfortable in that "we're not talking about neutral or sexy embarrassment kind of way" then he's not going to force things.

Doflamingo: Sure - A "try something one, more and more if he likes it" kind of guy, I think Doffy would be open to experimenting when the opportunity arose. He would, at the bare minimum, enjoy groping and teasing your breasts until he figured out how everything worked. Whether it was caused by birth control or pregnancy he would have a justification for it - something to either quiet your false protests, or something to quiet your legitimate ones.

Doffy wants to see you squirm - canon universe or not, it's not like you can run from him if he makes you uncomfortable. (Doflamingo is such a yandere, and I think he'd openly admit to it too.)

Rosinante: Yes to FUCK Yes - Corazon certainly wants a family, whether he thinks he deserves on or not, or whether he could ever have one, is a completely different discussion, but things surrounding the building of a family certain get his motor running. There's reasons more than just pregnancy that can cause lactation, but whatever the cause it'll be the connection the younger Donquixote can't help but make.

He may sate his kink privately if you're not comfortable with it, but it's more likely that he'll be showering you with praise and assurances and compliments, trying his best to validate your feelings toward it while trying to help you become more comfortable with it. He is a drink from the source kind of guy if you'll let him, and honestly he just wants to lavish you with pleasure. (Rosi is 100% here for the whole Worship your body vibe).

Negotiation -

Sir Crocodile: This is hard to assign a rank to, but we'll go with a Yes for Crocodile. He's here for communication, and he'll respect your boundaries (much as he can), and he's certainly not against writing up a contract. There's no need to be so formal between lovers, but he also understands the comfort that can come from such a document. Mind yourself if you agree to one, this is a business man, you're only a tick or two away from making a deal with the devil if you put things into writing. Verbal arrangements are far more flexible, and Crocodile takes contracts seriously.

The are amendable, though, you're not etching things into stone. People and circumstances change, after all.

Doflamingo: Oh god you don't even know - you want to make a contract with Donquixote Doflamingo? I think I'd rather bury an offering at the crossroads and deal with an actual devil. Every word of the contract will be abided by, you can be assured. That means you better know every word in that contract too, and not just definition 1 of those words, but definition 2 and the biblical interpretations while you're at it.

Doffy's hot button is manipulation, and if you're going to sign your life away to his whims he won't pass it up. But, he's not entirely unreasonable - he won't force you to sign a contract. He's fine with verbal agreements, and he's even likely to abide your cute little safe words too, so long as you don't displease him. You're his favorite little distraction (or his sweet true love), he wants you to be happy.

Rosinante: Sure? - Rosi will sit down and work out all the kinky details of your relationship on paper if you want. He'll also be amenable to having conversation before and after each session, putting safe words into play, and even some back up safe-sounds/actions in case words are failing you.

Pegging -

Sir Crocodile: No - Absolutely not. Exit only. Not his thing. Not even willing to try. You may, might, possibly be able to beg him to try it once, if it's something you're absolutely dying to try at least once. He *may* like it, his opinion may change, but he may also avoid you for a couple days while he tries to shake it off and reclaim his dignity.

Control is a big thing for him, and it's hard to be in control in that situation.

(I need to admit I am a big, horrible fan of Croco x Doffy, I love them, and I generally prefer Croc as the bottom, but! (heh, butt) in an x reader context my head canon is what it is XD ).

Doflamingo: Sure - You give what you get, or get what you give in this case. It better be something you're comfortable with cause he's not going to be the only one receiving. And it may only be once or twice. Doffy likes his control, and more than that he likes manipulating people. The likelihood that he's manipulated you into pegging him is low, but he's a kinky bastard, so he's certainly not averse to the idea.

Gods help you if you can't please him while doing it though.

Rosinante: Yes - I'm undecided if Rosi is switchy when it comes to dom/sub dynamics, but I do think he is very much a switch for top/bottom dynamics. He'll give and receive for just about any situation and kink, with very few exceptions. For him the point is pleasure, his and yours, maybe more yours than his, but not so much that you catch onto him pampering you. If you want to peg him, he's just going to make sure it's good for both of you, whatever accessories end up being needed.

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

#kinky one piece head canon #sir crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #x reader #sir crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #rosinante x reader

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theforgottenmcrmy · 1 year

Text

Reprieve~ Part 1/3 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader

᯽ Please note that this is an overall Part 18 to the series Growing Strong. The masterlist, and part 1, can be found HERE ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, mentions of past character death, mentions of miscarriage

Summary: Grief for her child, her father, her crown. There was no use drawing comparisons- you were certain all of it cut her just as deeply.

A/N: I’m back. It’s my birthday, and I’m giving myself the gift of easing some of the guilt I’ve felt by keeping you on hold with this story for a while😅 in all seriousness, i hope you enjoy. if you have stuck with this story so far, I appreciate the hell outta you. this one’s a bit angsty, but part 2 will include some fluffier moments with the kids, and part 3 will have an awkward dinner between both families. i hope you enjoy🖤

PS, the poll hath spoken, and part 2 should be posted Thurs 3/30, and part 3 should be up Sat 4/1.

Never before had you written so much at any one time.

Your hands ached, practically begging for relief. For how important you believed it was for these letters to be sent out by raven at once- as they were, for you had requested someone stop by every half hour past to collect the letters you had already completed- the task of actually penning the words to paper was not nearly as forgiving as you had hoped it to be.

One of the only comforts you were able to take was that you were in good company.

At the very thought, you looked up from your current letter, which was addressed to Lord Alan Tarly, and over towards your companion, who was seated at the same table, in the chair across from you. As though he had felt your soft gaze, Harwin ceased his own writing immediately, and his hazel eyes snapped up to meet yours. The smile he gave you was a tired one, but genuine. You wondered if his hands pained him as much as yours did.

In a shameless bit of self-indulgence, you allowed more pleasant thoughts to drift into your weary mind. Alone in the quiet chambers Rhaenyra had prepared for the two of you some time ago, it was almost too easy to imagine that you at Harwin were back at home, in your shared study at Highgarden, enjoying a calm evening unwinding after a delicious supper.

It was almost too easy to forget that you were far removed from the Reach, and in Dragonstone, blindly making your way through the aftermath of King Viserys’s death. For the briefest of moments, you allowed yourself to pretend as though you were not waiting with bated breath, passing the time idly until it was decided, by forces beyond your control, whether the Seven Kingdoms would be put to the torch as two Targaryens fought for the vacated seat their father’s passing had left behind.

You brought your focus back to your letter.

To Lord Alan Tarly,

By now, it is likely that the grave news of the passing of King Viserys has reached Horn Hill…

You had lost track of how many of the letters had started in the same manner. But there were only so many ways your sentiments could be expressed, and time was of the essence.

After your arrival in Dragonstone, and once Queen Rhaenyra had had the opportunity to apprise you of the current standing, you and Harwin had mutually agreed that it would be best to write letters to your closest kin and peers immediately. Primarily, the letters that you and your husband had spent the better part of a few hours writing were addressed to the various lords and ladies across the Reach and Riverlands. Throughout the process, you hoped to thoroughly examine those you both knew who might also be sympathetic to the queen’s cause.

First, Harwin had written to his steward, Lord Dannis Chambers, at Harrenhal. He warned him of the grave reality of the impending war, and urged him to prepare the castle and Harrentown accordingly. After this had been achieved, Harwin wasted no time recounting all the atrocious crimes he now believed his brother, Larys, had committed, and advised Lord Dannis that if Larys made any attempt to contact him, he was to be notified at once. Lord Dannis was also instructed to detain Larys on sight, should the Master of Whisperers be so bold enough as to attempt to gain entry into Harrenhal.

But Larys’s treachery had gone undetected for years- you did not believe him anywhere near daft enough to try such an outlandish thing. You had voiced as much to Harwin, hoping it would reassure him, but Harwin was of the mind not to leave any matters pertaining to the kinslayer up to chance.

Next, Harwin had written to his sisters- and by extension, their husbands. The letters proved particularly challenging for him, but completely necessary. Lilyan and Eyla deserved to know the truth of what happened to their father, even if it meant tainting the image they may have had for their other brother. In his letters, Harwin kept the recount of the discovery to a minimum, not wishing to distress his sisters any further than his words were already likely to. He made promises to explain in further detail the next time they met.

Like he had Lord Dannis, Harwin urged Lilyan and Eyla to compel their husbands, Lord Cerran Leygood and Lord Joseth Smallwood, to begin making their own preparations. Neither you or Harwin anticipated Lord Cerran or Lord Joseth to deflect and support the Usurper. Not only had both Lilyan and Eyla served alongside you as ladies in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra, but Lord Cerran, as one of your liege lords, had also pledged fealty to you as Lady Paramount of the Reach. And Lord Joseth was one of the most honorable men you had known; he would uphold the pledge his father had made to King Viserys, and bow to Queen Rhaenyra as his one true successor.

After those had been written, Harwin had written to his extended kin- the houses his mother and father had descended from- and to a few other neighboring houses in the Riverlands whom he believed could be swayed, if they were not already, to support Queen Rhaenyra.

Most regrettably, the Reach was another matter.

As their liege lady, all the ruling lords and ladies of the land had pledged fealty to you after King Viserys had proclaimed you as the heir to Highgarden and the Lady of House Tyrell. In turn, as you had pledged fealty to uphold Rhaenyra as the true heir to the Iron Throne and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, it was expected that all the other houses in the Reach would fall in line, and join you in offering her their support. However, as demonstrated by House Hightower’s heinous deflection and usurpation of the throne, such was not to be the case, and even words vowed by the oldest and noblest of houses could not be taken at face value.

You deemed your first letter, which was addressed to your uncle and steward, Lord Elwood Meadows, to be of the utmost importance. In your letter, you were insistent that preparations be made with the utmost haste. Highgarden stood between Oldtown and King’s Landing, and if army reinforcements were to be called to the capitol from the Hightowers’s stronghold, the army would most likely march through Highgarden’s lands. Until the lords and lady of the Reach declared for Queen Rhaenyra or the Usurper, it was wiser to assume that Highgarden was surrounded by potential enemies, and to prepare the men and supplies with that belief in mind.

You had written to the Reach nobles who you felt confident would support the Queen if war was to come after that. There were at least a few lords and ladies who had never given you cause to doubt their allegiance.

But you had not bothered to send correspondence to Oldtown, or to the Arbor. Your cousin, Lord Garrett Redwyne, had coveted Highgarden and the Tyrell family titles since you had inherited them. As a direct result, your relationship with one another had been severely strained for many years. Though you had no ill will for his mother, your aunt Elayne, placing blind faith on your cousin to uphold his oath and pledge the Redwyne fleet to Queen Rhaenyra would be incredibly foolish. Besides, he was married to Cerelle Lannister now- and whatever gold you might have been able to offer and persuade him, the Lannisters could offer him twice as much, if not more.

By the time Elinda, a particularly favored handmaiden for many years, arrived and informed you that Queen Rhaenyra wished to speak with you, you had just finished the last of your letters, and Harwin his. It was perfect timing, and a perfect distraction from the dull tingling in your hands.

“I shall come with you,” Harwin offered without hesitation, rising to his feet as he reached across the table to gather the last of the small parchment scrolls.

You followed his lead, but both of you paused once Elinda spoke up. “My apologies, My Lord. But Her Grace has requested to speak with Lady Y/N… only Lady Y/N.”

The girl sounded hesitant, and perhaps looked a bit apprehensive, too. But there was no need. In response to her words, a look of understanding washed over Harwin’s face, and he gave you a knowing look.

You believed that he had also caught a glimpse of what you suspected to be a funeral pyre outside the entrance of the castle. Judging by the soft remorse in his eyes, you now knew it to be true. Harwin had more than likely drawn his own conclusions as to the nature of what Princess Rhaenyra wished to speak with you about, and could understand why his presence was not desired.

“Of course,” Harwin relented graciously, nodding to Elinda. Turning to you, he proposed, “Perhaps I shall find our sons, and ensure they have not begun to create any trouble for themselves.”

Whilst your traveling party had begun to settle into their own lodgings, the remainder of the group arrived from the docks, as Prince Jacaerys had arranged. Brynna was tending to Luciya, but your sons had opted to find ways to occupy their own time- most likely they sought to become reacquainted with the Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys.

However Derrik and Selwin had chosen to spend their time the last few hours, you did not believe them likely to cause any legitimate trouble. This was in light of the fact that you were all guests, and only welcomed in Dragonstone by the Queen’s will. But there were dragons all around, and tensions were high. Misunderstandings could turn dire in the blink of an eye.

“I will find them,” Harwin reiterated, glancing down at the last of small scrolls upon the table, “right after I give these over to Maester Gerardys to be sent out.”

“That would probably be for the best,” you agreed, albeit a little reluctantly.

But before you could step away from the table to follow Elinda, Harwin stopped you. Mindful of the fact that the two of you had company, he settled for lightly grasping your hand and bestowing a kiss on top of it.

“I will meet with you later,” he promised.

Your husband’s voice was light and reassuring; it was comforting, even. You would hold on to that as you braced yourself for what was likely to be a particularly daunting conversation with the queen.

You nodded to him with a small smile, fighting off a heat that threatened to rise to your cheeks despite your best efforts.

As you were escorted to Queen Rhaenyra’s chambers, you wrung your burning hands together, hoping the gesture would help restore some of the feeling. Before leaving your chambers, you thought you had scrubbed away most of the ink that had stained your hands during your writing efforts. But as you passed underneath flickering torches that lined the tone hallways of the Stone Drum, you caught brief glimpses of a few black splotches that you had apparently missed.

Fortunately, you severely doubted your liege would pay them much mind.

When you arrived outside of the queen’s chambers, you saw that two members of the now Queensguard were keeping post by the door.

The first was Ser Lorent Marbrand. Though he had been elevated to the Kingsguard during King Viserys’s reign some number of years ago, the fair haired knight from the Westerlands had always been a common face among Rhaneyra’s household guard. It was reassuring to see that he had elected to continue to serve King Viserys’s rightful heir.

The second was Ser Steffon Darklyn. The uncle of Lord Gunthor Darklyn bore a much sterner expression than his counterpart. Though Ser Steffon’s face was wrinkled with age, the sheer resolve etched into his features suggested that whatever laid ahead, he did not fear it. His tried and true experience he had gained during his service to King Viserys would undoubtedly be a crucial asset for the queen now.

You nodded to both men in silent greeting as the handmaiden Elinda, who had been escorting you, lightly tapped her knuckles on the closed door. A moment later, you heard a muffled voice bid you to enter from within.

Elinda opened the door slowly, and you followed her into the room cautiously. After stepping a few more steps through a short corridor, you were temporarily blinded by the sun streaming into the open room.

Elinda was not phased. “Lady Y/N, as you requested, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Elinda. That will be all.”

Elinda bowed her head and retreated, closing the door softly behind her as she went.

You squinted and allowed yourself a moment for your eyes to adjust. When your vision became clear once more, you spotted the familiar figure of Queen Rhaenyra across the room. Dressed in the same black gown she had donned that morning, she stood beside a table on the far side of the room, positioned right before the open balcony. In the comfortable silence, you heard the soft lull of waves and the squawking of the seagulls in the distance.

“Come, Y/N. Sit with me.”

Queen Rhaenyra took a seat, and you did not hesitate to heed her order. You crossed the room in a few short strides before swiftly claiming the seat across the small table from where she had settled. The table was bare, save a pitcher of wine and a pair of goblets.

As you made yourself comfortable on the chair, your longtime companion placed another object on the table.

“This is for you and your husband.”

You glanced at the folded piece of parchment as the queen slid it smooth across the table towards you. It was sealed in green wax, with an emblem you had seen no more than a handful of times. But once you recognized it, your interest was piqued immediately.

“What is it?”

“Otto Hightower deemed me deserving of a personal visit yesterday,” Queen Rhaenyra said, avoiding answering your posed question directly, though you suspected her tale would lead to the information you sought regardless. “He hand delivered terms of peace, written by the Dowager Queen on behalf of my half-brother, to all my bannermen who have already gathered here. I did not dare to correct his assumption that you and Lord Harwin had already arrived in Dragonstone, for I feared doing so would put you in further undue danger.”

Admittingly, the thought had not crossed your mind. You had suspected Larys to be the sole perpetrator behind the attack on your traveling party following the departure from King’s Landing. But you had not given pause to consider what Otto Hightower, Queen Alicent, the Usurper, or any other Green for that matter would stand to gain had you failed to reach Dragonstone. Death was one matter, but the thought of you, Harwin, and your children being captured and forced to do as the Usurper bid was another altogether, and one that made you want to shudder. You would have, had Queen Rhaenyra not been watching your every move with keen eyes.

She inched the parchment even closer to you. The seal, barring the emblem of the Hightower in Oldtown, and surrounded by a single crown, was Queen Alicent’s personal sigil. What the dowager queen thought to offer you was beyond your imagination, but it did entice curiosity. You and Harwin had been among Rhaenyra’s most fervent supporters for many years, and you knew Alicent not to be so foolish as to presume either of your loyalties could be bought for some mere gold.

Finally appeasing the queen’s silent request, you took the letter into your own two hands. “You said Otto Hightower brought terms of peace… Is that to say you were offered terms as well?”

“I was.”

“And do you mean to accept them?”

The look that flashed across Queen Rhaenyra’s face was a conflicted one, but she masked it rather quickly. “It matters little whether or not I wish to settle this peacefully. We both know that I cannot. The Usurper has made a mockery of my father’s declaration, and his selfish greed has threatened to plunge the entire realm into a war amongst itself. I have already begun to receive pledges of support, and though I hope I will receive more yet, accepting anything less than my own ascension to the Iron Throne will be a grave insult to all who have already sworn themselves to my cause. Even if I could reconcile myself with all of this, I am not the only one who shall suffer if I accept the dowager queen’s proposals. My children will never, ever be safe. And if you believe my husband will willingly bend the knee to my witless half-brother, you must understand him even poorer than I.”

Her last statement was an odd one, but it was not peculiar enough to comment upon at that moment. You could not picture the Rogue Prince bending to Aegon, not even in your wildest imagination. Every point Queen Rhaenyra had made was completely valid, which was why her next words to you took you by utmost surprise.

“You must take great care to consider whatever Dowager Queen Alicent has offered you and Harwin, Y/N.”

“... You do not mean that we should-”

“All I ask is that you discuss it with Harwin, and that the two of you are absolutely certain of your decision. Whatever you choose will not be able to be undone.”

“Harwin and I have been writing to those who we believe may be drawn to support you all morning,” you informed her, hoping it would persuade her to cease the fruitless conversation.

“I have seen the intermittent ravens being sent out over the past few hours, and I suspected as much.”

By this point, confusion was nowhere near adequate enough to describe what you were feeling. “And you would still have us consider betraying you and throwing our support behind the Usurper instead?”

“I would have you choose whatever you believe is best for your family,” the queen corrected, her tone becoming icy as she fought to make her intentions clear. “I consider you a friend, as I also do your husband. Swearing oaths, even to a king, when you are young and without much to lose is one thing. But we both have more to lose now than ever before. Wealth will come and go. Castles can be destroyed and rebuilt. But the children… The children could never be replaced. And you know as well as I do that not even the gods choose to spare them in times of war.”

She was not talking about Jacaerys, Lucerys, or Joffrey. Not even Aegon or Viserys. As nearly unfathomable as it was, in the silence that followed the queen’s words, you took a few moments to truly contemplate her suggestion.

You pocketed the parchment at once, taking care not to fold it any further than what was necessary. “I will discuss it with Harwin later.”

Queen Rhaenyra looked placated by your response. “That is all I ask. Take the day to decide. In two days time, the Greens will expect to receive an answer from me in response to their proposed terms. It would be best to have your family’s answer by then as well.”

“We shall have it to you even sooner than that,” you promised, knowing that whatever decision you reached with Harwin, you were likely going to be of the same mind.

“Very well. I plan to reconvene my council first thing tomorrow morning. Should you and Harwin decide to join us, I will accept that as your answer.”

“You do not mean to meet with your council today?”

“I have decided to give myself a bit of reprieve,” she answered carefully, reaching across the table to grab the pitcher of wine. Pouring wine into one of the goblets for herself, she continued, “I had hoped the Sea Snake would reach our shores by now, so that I may have an idea of what naval support to expect.”

“The Sea Snake lives?” That was news to you, but it was news most welcome.

“Yes, he does. While I am hopeful that Lord Coryls will eventually offer me his support, I cannot bring myself to rely on it. I must continue to plan how best to proceed with the assumption that only those who have already pledged their support are able to be called upon.”

Of course, Rhaenyra would not turn away any additional allies who would pledge themselves to her. And you believed her caution with Lord Corlys was most wise. However, despite the fact that Lord Coryls had been insistent that Lucerys was next in succession of the Driftmark throne throughout the many years since Ser Laenor’s passing, you had begun to accrue a personal understanding of how drastically a brush with the Stranger could change someone. Perhaps the Sea Snake would change his mind… and perhaps he would feel even more compelled to do so with an appealing offer from the Usurper.

You surmised then, “I suppose you would not wish to hear the details of whom Harwin and I have written to?”

“While I appreciate the efforts you have taken, that will not be necessary right now. You may give me the information on the morrow- should you and Harwin join the council meeting, that is. Perhaps you will have even received a few answers by then. But no- that is not why I have summoned you here. Nor was passing along my half-brother’s offer of peace for your family the sole reason, either.”

“I am a guest, and I am at your bidding- what is on your mind?”

“Should you allow it, I wish to speak with you, friend to friend.”

“Of course, My Queen.”

“Please, Y/N. We are alone.”

It was not the first time Rhaenyra had insisted on dropping formalities, but complying with her requests never seemed to get any easier. This was made additionally difficult by the fact that she was no longer a princess, but queen. Whether it be the manners and proprietary that had been instilled in you from a young age, or simply from the sheer amount of respect you held for her, it was foreign to your tongue to address her so informally. But you found a way.

“You are always welcome to speak freely with me, Rhaenyra.”

You watched in silence as she placed the pitcher back onto the table and wasted no time in raising the goblet to her lips.

“Would you care for some?” she asked after a moment, tilting the goblet in your direction. “The hour is still early, but as Maester Gerardys has informed me that my only other alternative for the pain is milk of the poppy, I consider this to be a necessary indulgence.”

Only a short while ago, the then Princess Rhaenyra had confided to you of King Viserys’s poor state of health, which she believed had been exacerbated by Queen Alicent’s maesters administration of milk of the poppy. In light of this, it was not hard to imagine the new queen would not consent to such a treatment for herself.

For a moment, all that could be heard within the chambers were the waves and seagulls from outside. As Queen Rhaenyra took another sip of wine, you watched your former lady carefully, contemplating what, if anything, you should say.

In the end, you decided to follow her lead, doing away with frivolity and speaking plainly as to what was in your heart.

“I am sorry, Rhaenyra.”

She looked at you then, truly looked at you. It was done in such a commanding way that forbade you from looking elsewhere, even if you had wished to. Initially, you thought she might become cross with your lack of formality- despite her earlier plea. But there was no anger in her eyes, only grief. Grief that, judging by the unshed tears in her eyes, was still painfully fresh.

Grief for her child, her father, her crown. There was no use drawing comparisons- you were certain all of it cut her just as deeply. You shared in her grief, and as uncomfortable as it was for you, it was undoubtedly worse for her.

“I’ve lost my daughter,” Queen Rhaenyra elaborated then, finally looking away. She idly traced the rim of her goblet slowly with her forefinger. “My Visenya.”

She had never confided to you what she had intended to name her daughter, had her hopes been correct. But you would have expected Rhaenyra to grant her child no less of a grand name for her much-desired daughter.

Unsure of what else to say, you praised, “A fine name for a princess, My Queen.”

“It was.”

Though you had your suspicions, you gently coaxed, “What happened?”

Rhaenyra continued to trace the goblet’s rim. Her focus was upon that now, as she recalled the painful tale. A grounding practice, you supposed.

“Princess Rhaenys had flown from King’s Landing. How many days had passed since my father died, we do not know, for Princess Rhaenys was kept a prisoner in her own chambers, whilst my father’s grieving widow and her own spiteful father conspired to crown my half-brother. She witnessed the crowning, Rhaenys. She says the common folk cheered for Aegon, as though he was the one, true king- until she burst through the floor of the Dragonpit with Meleys.”

You tried to imagine the scene that Queen Rhaneyra described. After only a moment, you decided you would have much preferred to have borne witness to Princess Rhaenys’s disruption of the Usurper's coronation than what you had endured on the road to Duskendale. Did Aegon tremble in fear whilst staring into the teeth of Meleys? Did Criston Cole make himself useful in any way, and attempt to protect his new king, or did he too think the end was near and cower? Did Dowager Queen Alicent show any remorse for the doom she had inflicted upon herself and her children, or had she been willing to accept her fate with forlorn resolve?

“She could have burned them all. But she did not. She flew here instead, and told me everything that transpired. When she did, well… I suppose the news was too much. Too shocking. In the end, my own body betrayed me.”

She quickly took a few more sips of wine, as though doing so would erase the memory. For a while, you supposed it could. For her sake, you hoped it would.

Feeling emboldened by the crass conversation, you took the moment of silence to fill your own goblet. Following suit, you knocked the cup back and drank until your throat burned, silently crying for air.

When you lowered your goblet once more, you were surprised to find the Queen’s attention had reverted back to you, giving you an- even more surprisingly- amused smirk.

“It is a relief to see someone so willing to share in my sorrows, rather than to merely suggest ways in which I may overcome them.”

“Most men already presume women to be easily controlled by their emotions. While we know that to be false, perhaps we ought to indulge their assumptions every now and then- lest we lose our advantage of surprise.”

Queen Rhaenyra let out a dry chuckle. “Perhaps.” Then, just as quickly as it had come, the joy fleeted from her. “My Visenya,” she sighed again, before taking another sip. When she set the goblet back down on the table once more, it was with great force. “She was my only daughter, and they killed her. They stole my crown and murdered my daughter, and they shall answer for it.”

“They will.”

“I suppose now we only need to wait to see if they will accept their sentence willingly, or if it will need to be impressed upon them.”

There was a distinction to be made. You took Queen Rhaenyra’s word as law- if she said she intended to punish those who unjustly usurped her throne, you believed her full-heartedly. But the lack of conviction in her additional statement led you to believe that war itself was not her sole desire. Should war come, it would have only been the means by which she used to secure her ends.

“But enough talk of all that,” she dismissed then, obviously eager to move on to another topic. “There is something else I wished to speak with you about. You left King’s Landing the same day as my family, and yet, you had not reached Duksendale when Lord Darklyn set sail for Dragonstone. He told me that before he left, Harwin had taken to the road to find you for himself. Once I heard of this, I deposed some of my loyal scouts on the mainland, in the hope that they could be of assistance to locate you and your party. Although, it seems that by the time they had begun to search, you were nowhere to be found.”

You said nothing, both unwilling and unable to comment just yet. The mere mention of what transpired during your travels still unsettled you greatly. The ambush, the moments you spent in pure fear for your life, the awful act you’d been forced to commit in your own self-defense… It was too soon. You had yet to come to true terms with it yourself. How could you reasonably expect Rhaenyra to understand?

“What happened, Y/N?” she pried, noticeably more gentle. “I have spoken freely with you- I do hope you know that you are extended that same courtesy. Especially amongst the two of us.”

She had sensed your hesitation.

Although you did not wish to speak of it, you could not bring yourself to lie to the queen either… Omitting certain parts of the tale would, at the very least, make it easier to recount.

“The escort was waylaid by brigands, My Queen. We lost two of our men, and had my husband and reinforcements not located us in time, I fear even more lives would have been lost.” My own among them.

It was clearly not what she had anticipated you to say, and as a result, Rhaenyra looked troubled by this. She gripped the goblet in her hand tightly. “Brigands?” she echoed. “This was a random attack? I do not care for that at all. Roads in the Crownlands are supposed to be very well patrolled.”

You hesitated, torn between deceiving Rhaenyra and confessing information that was not entirely yours to share. In the end, you reasoned that if she planned to take King’s Landing by force, she ought to know about all the snakes that dwelled within it. Gods forbid a certain Master of Whisperers find himself a quick tongue and talk himself out of being punished for sympathizing with the Usurper. Harwin would not let Larys get away with the more personal crimes he had committed against him and the Strong family, and if the queen was knowledgeable of them as well, any attempts to slither away that Larys might make would be futile.

“It has since come to light that the fire at Harrenhal was intentional, Your Grace.”

Confusion flickered over Rhaenyra’s otherwise calm disposition, not that you could blame her. “Harrenhal? What does that have to do with your traveling party being attacked on the road?”

“The death of Lord Lyonel was no accident at all. Someone meant to have him killed, and they meant to claim the lives of Harwin, our sons, and myself along with him. The fire was a plot, meant to look as an accident, just as our attack on the road was coordinated, and designed to appear as entirely coincidental. The orchestrator of both schemes is one in the same.”

“But… How? How do you know all of this? And who is it that you stake these very grave accusations against?”

“The only man who stood to gain from the death of the Lord of Harrenhal, and all his other heirs.”

A/N: Any feedback is very much appreciated. I hope you guys have had and continue to have a wonderful week🖤

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crissiebaby · 10 months

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The Sissy Godmother, Pt. 2

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, magical transformation, humiliation, crossdressing, hypermessing, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Bricks66

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“I think his brain broke.”

Staring down at their babbling tutor with their mouths agape, neither Lane nor Ruby had any idea why Josh was on the floor and sucking on his thumb while dressed up as an adorable sissy baby. “M-Maybe it's like a…pre-exam ritual?” suggested Ruby, attempting to find any reasonable explanation for why Josh was now wearing a thick diaper and a fuzzy onesie, “Or it could be a test for us? To see if we study on our own or something?”

Shaking his head, Lane was far less willing to seek out the logic when it came to the infantile state of their straight-A scholar. “Test or no test, I think we should take him to the hospital, in case this is like a mental breakdown…or worse,” he said, secretly hoping for a yes so they could drop Josh off at the ER with enough time for him to catch his college’s last football game of the season.

“Oh, calm down. I don’t think it’s that serious,” said Ruby, kneeling down next to Josh and cautiously reaching out to pet his hair. As soon as her hand made contact with Josh’s head, he stopped nursing on his thumb and looked at his crush with innocent, doughy eyes that melted her heart before she could blink, “Oh my Goddess, you are such a cutie!”

Throwing his hands in the air dramatically, Lane was at a loss as to what had come over Ruby. “Not that serious? Ruby, this is not normal behavior…even for Josh,” he scoffed, glancing down at the pathetic display that Josh was putting on before averting his gaze entirely. This caused his eyes to land on Josh’s backpack, where all his diligently taken notes were housed, “O-On second thought, you may be right. Maybe he does this crap to…relax.”

Even Lane didn’t buy the words coming out of his mouth, not that Ruby was paying much attention to him anyway. Regardless, if Josh wanted to act like a baby, there was nothing to stop him from digging through Josh’s notes. And while the last game of the season may have been calling his name, the idea of surprising everyone with a perfect exam run was too juicy to pass up. He quickly snatched Josh’s bag off the floor and set it down on the table before filtering through the material for the notes on their shared classes.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. If this is Josh’s way of unwinding, who are we to judge?” said Ruby, paying minor lip service to Lane’s comment before centering her attention back on Josh, “Now then, what do you say we get you into something nice and clean, cutie-kins!”

Whipping his head up with a look of pure shock, Lane watched in disbelief as Ruby pulled what appeared to be a fresh diaper and a bottle of baby powder out of her backpack before instructing Josh to lie down on the study room’s lone couch. “Y-You can’t be serious. And why do you have that?!” he shouted, receiving a hardy shush from Ruby in response.

“Quiet down, Lane. You’ll upset the baby,” said Ruby, offering no explanation for the infantile items she had tucked away with her notes and textbooks, “Just start studying. I’ll join you when I’m finished.”

Lane was at a complete loss for what had come over his lifelong friend. That didn’t stop him from feeling slightly jealous of the amount of attention Josh was receiving, especially once she untaped his soggy diaper; something he couldn’t bear to watch. To his surprise, he had never wanted to study more. After what he had seen, he actually craved the mind-numbing task of studying for his math final.

As the morning turned to afternoon, Lane was quick to copy all of Josh’s notes in case he decided to break away from his babyish behavior at any point in the day. Once he had his own set of notes, he proceeded to spend the rest of the day reviewing the material lackadaisically, constantly finding himself distracted by notifications on his cell phone. The sheer boredom of forcing himself to study was enough to knock him out by the time the sun was beginning to set.

Meanwhile, Ruby was more than happy to spend her Saturday cooing over baby Josh. She didn’t know why but there was an intense feeling deep down inside of her that compelled her to care for Josh. After all, a baby such as Josh was far too small to take care of himself. That being said, she knew she couldn’t waste her whole day, splitting off from Josh to study during his long, early evening nap. With both her boys snoring away next to her, it was only a matter of time before she too was drifting off to dreamland.

*BUZZ BUZZ!*

Waking with a start, Lane instantly reached for his droning cell phone. He rubbed his eyes as he thumbed through his friends’ messages, all of whom were happy to share pictures of the fun they were having at the game and later at the bars downtown. “Fugging dicks,” he muttered to himself, feeling extremely envious that his pals were far less concerned with their grades. He began to question why he was caring so much before turning to see Ruby asleep, reminding him of why he was putting himself through all this trouble.

Keeping an eye on Ruby to make sure she didn’t stir, Lane stealthily grabbed his vape pen from his backpack and snuck out of the room to get a quick hit in. As he soaked in the brisk evening air, he began to daydream about asking Ruby out on a date after finals were over and done with. They had been practically attached at the hip since preschool, and with how often everyone liked to joke about them being a couple, it only made sense for this to be the next logical step in their relationship. Tucking his vape pen back into his sweatpants pocket, he reentered the campus library and sauntered back to the study room.

*DONG! DONG! DONG!*

Right as Lane was re-entering the classroom, the clock tower sounded off that a new day was about to begin. He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned, pissed at himself that he’d managed to sleep so late. Slumping down into his chair, he cracked open his copied notes, promising to himself that he was going to look over the info he needed for his Monday tests before allowing himself to get some more shut-eye. At least, that was the plan.

Much like the previous night, the window to the study room swung open just enough to allow the Fairy Godmother’s sparkling essence to waft into the space. As she began to take on her physical form in the center of a glittery vortex yet again, Lane was forced to evacuate his seat, crouching down and taking shelter behind the room’s lone table.

“Oh, deary me. What a terrible predicament,” said the Fairy Godmother, straightening out her dress as the vortex that once surrounded her dissipated. Looking down at Ruby and Josh slumbering away, she placed a gentle hand on Josh’s head and sighed dejectedly, “Apologies, my child. It’s uncharacteristic of me to make a mistake like this. Sadly, there’s nothing that can be done about it now.”

Watching from under the table as the Godmother hovered near Josh, Lane decided that this would be the best moment for him to make his daring escape. He leaped up from his prone position and dashed for the study room door without so much as a second glance back at Ruby.

Unfortunately, Lane’s movement quickly caught the Godmother’s eye, who was happy to use her magic to stop the college-aged boy dead in his tracks. “Oh, there you are, my child,” she said, flicking her wand in Lane’s direction and forcing him to approach her against his will, “My dear, have you any idea the trouble you have caused? My superiors were furious with me when they found out I transformed the wrong person. Have no fear, though, your Fairy Godmother is here to remedy her mistake.”

Feeling a tad devious and a lot annoyed over having to return to the same room two nights in a row, the Fairy Godmother decided she was going to have some fun helping turn Lane’s supposed dream into reality. “Be a dear and strip to your birthday suit, my child,” she said, snickering as she used her wand to guide Lane’s body, compelling him to remove all of his adult male clothing until he was as naked as the day he was born.

All the while, Lane was shell-shocked, unable to believe what he was seeing or doing. Magic wasn’t supposed to be real and yet, here he was, being controlled like a puppet on strings. “W-Why are you doing this to me?!” he asked frantically, hoping his obvious distress would make the Godmother stop.

Tragically, Lane’s meek and cowardly behavior only fed into the Godmother’s sadistic side. “My child, I’m not doing anything. You’re the one putting on a diaper with your own hands,” she said, pointing her wand at Lane’s discarded clothes and instantly transforming them into something far more fitting of a sissy baby girl with his shirt turned into a paisley nightie with lace accents, his sweatpants balling themselves up and shifting into the shape of a stuffed teddy bear, and last but not least, his poor boxers puffing up and changing into a fluffy, white diaper.

As he stared at his own ominously transformed attire, the gears started to turn in Lane’s mind. The baby outfit, the constant babbling, the diaper usage! Josh wasn’t dressed up for some kind of pre-exam ritual. He had been turned into a sissy baby against his will. And now, the same thing was about to happen to him.

“Hop to it, my child! We haven’t got all night,” the Fairy Godmother said, waving her wand over the freshly-minted clothing and instructing Lane’s body to work.

Against his will, Lane reached down and began unfolding the diaper that his underwear had turned into. With the diaper neatly flattened out, he settled himself into the center of the padding, blushing furiously all the while.

“Oops! I almost forgot,” said the Godmother, bopping herself on the forehead for emphasis. Snapping her fingers, she ushered fresh bottles of baby powder and baby lotion into reality. The bottles floated around Lane’s body before homing in on his exposed privates and effortlessly lathering up his loins. From his perspective, it felt as if two sets of ghost hands had been sicced on his lower half.

Once the Godmother was satisfied with the amount of lotion and powder coating Lane’s diaper area, she snapped the bottles out of existence before pushing Lane to continue diapering himself. “I bet that feels a lot safer and cozier, doesn’t it, my child,” she said, giggling as Lane lifted the diaper front over his steadily growing stiffy.

Much to Lane’s dismay, the plushy diaper, and bizarrely erotic situation had resulted in an unintended hard-on. As much as he didn’t want to enjoy what was happening to him, he couldn’t help but feel a lot more relaxed now that the diaper was in place. Looking ahead at the dress, he wondered if continuing to put on his new sissy wardrobe would make him feel even better, unaware that his mind was already succumbing to the Godmother’s sissifying powers.

Pulling the nightie on over his head, Lane was swooning as the slippery fabric drizzled down his sensitive skin, further fueling his apparent arousal. As the sleepwear settled into place on his shoulders, he unconsciously began to giggle like crazy as his hands rubbed against the fabric that stretched across his belly.

“See? I knew you’d feel much better this way,” said the Godmother, cupping her hands together as observed Lane grabbing the stuffed teddy and nuzzling it close to his chest as if it were his best friend in the world. Unlike with Josh the night before, she detected no lingering thoughts of resistance in Lane’s mind, allowing him to forgo the same brain drain process that Josh had been put through. However, not wanting Josh to gain more favoritism, she made sure to imbue Lane with the same spell she had used on Josh, making him irresistible to anyone with a caregiver’s heart.

“That should do it. Now, I can finally put this case to bed. Farewell, my children. You may both see me again in your dreams whenever you like,” said the Godmother, petting both Josh and Lane on the head as she made her way to the window, “Oh, how I love my job.” Waving her wand with a graceful flourish, she vanished into a wind tunnel of sparkles before drifting back out into the starry night sky, believing to have firmly closed the book on yet another fantastical fairytale.

TO BE CONTINUED…

PART 1 PART 3

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Edited by AllySmolShork

#diaper art #diaper stories #crissiebaby #little space #ab/dl #ab/dl stories #ab/dl art #sissybaby #diaper humiliation #md/lg #dirty diaper #diaper messy #wetting diaper #ab/dl girl #ab dl #diaper sissy #ab/dl sissy

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queen0funova · 7 months

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I was at a cute little poetry circle recently, and I read a poem of mine inspired by my favorite poem. "Batter My Heart, Transgender’d God" by Meg Day (I'll put that poem under the cut). Someone then turned to me and asked if my "Batter My Heart" was the inspiration for it. Apparently they're the one who introduced the poem to the person who introduced me to it

Batter My Heart, Transgender’d God by Meg Day:

Batter my heart, transgender’d god, for yours

is the only ear that hears: place fear in my heart

where faith has grown my senses dull & reassures

my blood that it will never spill. Show every part

to every stranger’s anger, surprise them with my drawers

full up of maps that lead to vacancies & chart

the distance from my pride, my core. Terror, do not depart

but nest in the hollows of my loins & keep me on all fours.

My knees, bring me to them; force my head to bow again.

Replay the murders of my kin until my mind’s made new;

let Adam’s bite obstruct my breath ’til I respire men

& press his rib against my throat until my lips turn blue.

You, O duo, O twin, whose likeness is kind: unwind my confidence

& noose it round your fist so I might know you in vivid impermanence.

#idk I just thought this was silly and neat #glad to see someone else knows what runs through my head #obsessed with this poem tbh #The whole poetry circle was such a sweet and fun thing ngl #What if I just confessed my undying love #I got to see a bunch of people I haven't had a chance to be around in Months as well #One person made cupcakes themed around Wild Geese by Mary Oliver #I think I ate cupcakes that said 'wild geese head home' and 'the world offers itself'#Who is your favorite poet?#trans #transgender #Poetry #poems #poetry circle #My poem is about being queer but not specifically trans #I'm planning to submit it to a literary magazine soon so we'll see how that goes #lgbt #lgbtq #Meg Day #Batter My Heart Transgender’d God #queer #I'm poem #Great use of 3+ hours on a Sunday #I nearly cried on my way back home because I was just so overwhelmingly happy #I love you all to Fragments

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dragons-ire · 9 months

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#18 A Fish Out Of Water

“Go on. Go.”

Standing on a curve of the ancient road that wound through the Dravanian Forelands, Breandan reached up to grasp the creature clinging to his pauldron like a lifeboat. Gauntleted fingers curling around her midsection and trying to pull her off without hurting her too much.

In response, Lohs let out a miserable squeak, turning her face to the side of his neck.

He took a moment just to let out a sigh.

“I’m going to have to be away for awhile.” He went on, trying to get his grasp back. “I don’t like the idea of you hanging around camp by yourself. I don’t know who all comes that way.”

“Nooooooooooo.” Lohs answered, a pitiful little wail and found a place to dig in a claw

“Ow! Hey!” Breandan hissed, digging his fingers i in return. He yanked the little dragon free, only to have her immediately latch on in a death grip to both his gauntlets.

“Come on.” For good measure, he gave her a gentle shake. “These are your…own kind. There a reason you don’t want to stay with them?”

Lohs hung her head with another sad vocalization, and Breandan narrowed his eyes. He’d tried, of course. When he’d first picked her up, he’d left her here and hadn’t stayed around to hear what the Dravanians had thought about it.

She came crawling back to his campsite out here more often than not. Came and went and stayed around. He was sometimes a little concerned some trapper might find her there and get the wrong idea. Peace was sometimes for leaders safe in their cities and didn’t always hold in the backcountry.

“because….I can’t…” Lohs squirmed. She tried to bite at one of his armored fingers.

“I can’t sing.” She answered with that mournful tone again. “Not like the rest of them. Can…you? Can you sing?”

In response, Breandan laughed, once. A terrible sound, ragged and harsh around the edges. Looked away from her beady eyes on him, bright and searching for something that wasn’t quite available in his profile.

“No.” He answered. “I can’t.”

After a stilted pause, he went on.

“I have friends who can.” It came out awkwardly, half-mumbled. As awkwardly as the hand he shifted so he could press his thumb to the crowd of her head, giving the scales a little stroke.

“I like to go listen to them. There’s…places. People get up and do it for…mm. Money, sometimes, but because they like to. And even if I can’t, it’s still…nice, yeah? Being there with your friends. Seeing them do things that make them happy.”

His lips pressed together in an effort to keep himself from talking too much. His attention shifted back to her.

They must have been a ridiculous sight, he thought. The small creature twisting in his grasp, sunlight bouncing off the golden gleam of his armor. Taken from a cache that had turned into a grave, reforged and re-enchanted as a gift. Blessed, some might say. How much the action of returning Lohs to her people had counted towards that was hard to tell.

He wasn’t interested in keeping score.

By contrast: the lance on his back that hummed violently to the creatures that dwelled within. The blood and anguish of their fallen kin enchanted to the core of the weapon even before he’d picked it up and started killing with it.

The Dravanians still smelled the blood on his hands first, sometimes, before they picked up any other intent. It wasn’t always easy out here, and it wasn’t always pretty.

“...want me to go in there with you?” He asked, looking up at the triune spires of the old ruin that lay just beyond the bend of the road. Another sigh escaping from somewhere deep at the bottom of his chest.

“Maybe they’ll show us both around.”

His answer was a slightly brighter chirp, as the dragonet finally began to unwind from between his hands.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #makeup day!#lohs #a fucked up man is adopted by a fucked up little dragonet #chef kiss

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loiswasadevil · 1 month

Note

i don’t want to sound rude or anything, and i know you are incredibly attached to lois which is completely okay but wouldn’t you want to do more in this universe? of course you can still shift, but you must have been put in this universe for a reason.

i know it’s hard because of caleb, and i’m not saying that losing caleb made you delusional but at the same time, i think you need to get some help in this universe, not because you kin lois but i think you need help grieving him if that makes sense.

watching family guy as a coping mechanism and tk help you feel more connected to your kin is great, but at the same time your life can revolve around other things, and from what you’ve said, you’ve been through a lot and deserve a support system in this universe as well.

rules in the family guy universe are different to the ones in this universe obviously, and it’s clear that you’re still grieving caleb and from what you’ve said, what you went through as a child was insanely cruel and i am so sorry it happened to you, and that’s why i think you would benefit from help here too. you can still have family guy as a comfort, hell, i find it comforting and i enjoy watching it to unwind but at the same time, your life cant revolve around family guy, as even if you are from that universe initially, you were put in this one obviously for a reason so you deserve some help in this one.

CRISIS text line offers free support, and all you need to do is text them. even if you don’t feel like you’re in immediate danger, they can still help you. text HOME to the number 741741 if you would like some help, you genuinely deserve it and i hope that everything goes well for you.

I'm not attached to Lois, You have a fundamental Lack of understanding of Kin Memories, I suggest you read the kin info carrd. I've been beginning to suspect that in universe B I permanent reality shifted AKA Permashifting to this reality and It backfired and I was forced to re-endure the Hatred of my Family in this world Causing A Devil's Heart to be formed Giving me Kin Memories. Rules in Family Guy are not different Its so Similar to our universe You haven't BEEN there You've NEVER REALITY SHIFT ED. Those Scenes you think are reality bending? Its non canon, These are jokes added by the writers They DONT UNDERSTAND HOW ITS A UNIVERSE You lack understanding of channelling. The Twin hatred of our Family Yes it was cruel But it was my punishment for Permashifting To this universe and I need to go back So Yes I want to find my Peter in this universe so we can Shift together and be Together But I want to return to my universe, You should look into kin dysphoria. Don't patronize me with a Crisis Number

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enneadau · 9 months

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Series Description:

Yugi was born a girl, inspired by the fact that I found out that Atem is in fact commonly used as a girl's name. Yes I am aware of the fact that mythology states that there was an Atem who was the father of Bast, but once my brain had started ticking, well… here you go. There will be 9 main stories in this series but I make no promises how many side stories and one shots will pop up by the time the series ends. This lines up with the 9 Gods and Goddesses of the Egyptian Ennead and is the reason for the series name.

Story Links:

Kemet - Before the downfall, before Egypt went to hell, there was a Thief who wormed her way into the palace... (Complete, One Shot)

Dishonour - Finally, after years of waiting... they've got him. (Complete, One Shot)

Jb - After the events of earlier, the Pharaoh and her Shadow need a moment alone. (Complete, One Shot)

Mahad’s Tale - The moment everything went wrong in Ancient Egypt as told by Mahad in chapter 3 of Kismet. (A comic of Mahad's side of the story by https://twitter.com/fullmoondraws. 1 page up so far.)

Season Zero - After working on the Puzzle that her Grandfather gave her for eight years, Yugi finally managed to complete it. What she couldn't know was how much trouble one little trinket could cause… (Complete, 27 chapters)

In Sickness - Jou has been ill and now Yugi has come down with the same sickness. Can the spirit of the Puzzle, Oneesan work out what's wrong with her Imoto-chan before the sickness takes it's toll? (Complete, 1 shot)

For Those We Love - A sudden attack out of nowhere leaves Yugi with no choice but to travel to an island in the middle of nowhere and compete to save her Ojiisan's soul. Can she defeat Pegasus, save everyone and somehow, finally, work out how to interact with Oneesan, all without getting herself killed? (Complete, 27 chapters)

Refrain - Duelist Kingdom was hard on the Kaibas and Seto can't sleep.(Complete, 1 shot)

Kin - After surviving Duelist Kingdom, Yugi is looking forward to getting back to normality. Well, what passes for normal when you're the one who completed the Millennium Puzzle, one of your friends is the host for the spirit whose rampage ended your elder twin's reign back in Egypt and old adversaries of your grandfather have moved into town. (Complete, 15 chapters)

Kismet - After a close call in a raging inferno, Yugi is left with more questions than answers. One thing is certain: as she is, she cannot win the oncoming fight and with the future of the world at stake, she needs to know more. Thankfully, looking to the future can sometimes give you answers to the past... (Completed, 19 chapters)

Unwind - A little relaxation is good for the soul. (Set between chapters 5 & 6 of Kismet. Complete, 1 shot.)

Semestral - A collection of drabbles and one shots set in the time skip between Kismet and Battle of the Gods (Complete. 44 chapters)

Fantasia - A game to be tested, a set of rules changed and an unfair plot interrupted lead a set of adventurers into trouble. (Being written, will update VERY slowly because this arc hates me, 2 chapters so far)

Battle of the Gods - Battle City has arrived. Yugi and her twin sister, the Spirit of the Puzzle, need to compete to earn the keys to unlock the Pharaoh's missing memories and powers, but there is danger on the horizon. Will they reach their goal or will the sun set on them, and the world? (Posting, 46 chapters so far...)

Side B - The King A dip in the ocean at the end of the worst day of Yugi's life, leads to a trip from which there may be no return... (One shot, Complete)

Side B - The Pawn The cost of self sacrifice burns deep, and Amane, having risked her life and soul to protect a friend, finds herself making a journey that could end badly... (One shot, Complete)

Side B - The Knight Jonouchi Katsuya knew it was a bad move the moment he made it, but coming back from it could be more challenging than he knew… (One shot, Complete)

Side B - The Bishop There's nothing more important to Kaiba Seto than his little brother, and when protecting him means making the ultimate sacrifice, Seto suddenly finds himself on trial for the future of his very soul… (One shot, Complete)

Truth After an attack on the palace, and on her own life, costs her the two people she trusts the most, Pharaoh Atem is left to pick up the pieces and defend her country. (Complete, 4 Chapters)

Ennead GX Masterpost - everything posted so far involving Jurai and about GX plans

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lya-dustin · 2 months

Note

sun for the ask game 😇

Thanks Hagi 💙

This takes place in the Bridgerton au, shock and delight. It's really the targtower kids and the velaryon-targaryen kids having fun away from court.

Sun

Days like these are rare in Kingslanding. With the social season in full swing, the Stepstones proving he isn’t ready for war and endless nights worrying that Aemma will find a good man any day now, have given him little time to unwind.

Their mothers are always busy with the realm and with Daemon away only the Kingsguard remains to keep an eye on all of them. Most are adults, Helaena wanted to bring the children and that resulted in their various servants also accompanying them.

Aemma dresses in boys’ clothing, trousers that end at the knee and a shirt that hides her womanly body and her hair is braided tightly like their cousins’ are.

Aemond finds her as beautiful as always, she could wear a flour sack and it wouldn’t take away from her looks of you ask him.

They, she and her family, do this often, go to the beach and have one day without duties. It is a fun idea, though he doesn’t enjoy the beach as much as they do. Truth be told, he only came because Aemma asked him to.

He likes her, more than one likes a friend or their kin. Aemond hadn’t expected that to happen while they pretend they are courting, but it did.

“I wonder if Raymond the Valyrian looked at Melusina of the Sea the way you look at our niece, little brother?” Aegon isn’t drunk for a change, Aemond wishes he was because then he could deny it.

He rolled his eye, “How do I look at Aemee, big brother”

“Like she’s the sun.” fifteen year old Daeron says with disgust as he wasn’t in the same boat with Rhaena.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #shock and delight fic #one word prompt

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haellen-o · 9 months

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FFXIV Write Prompt #1: Envoy

(figured i'd take part in this after some convincing. though its only unofficially, no 24 hour time limit and no sticking to any orders. Just whatever tickles my fancy and what prompts i like)

“To walk a land bereft of world ending danger…” Halcyon smiled softly, holding an elps flower in their hand “Tis an odd feeling after such a long time” They spun the flower slowly, examining it… Who knew such a small thing could’ve been so important to the survival of the very star itself

They stood there for a time, listening to the crashing waves against the rocks, the sound of birds. And the quiet chatter of sharlayan… A gentle smile crept across halcyons face “If only you could’ve seen the beauty of this world, maybe things would have been different?” They mused idly to themself

“I was wondering where you were” a familiar voice called out from behind

“Ah, Y’shtola” Halcyon turned with a gentle smile “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was merely curious where the hero of the star had gone after their battle, most would be celebrating” Y’shtola joined halcyon on the edge of the cliff. Enjoying the sounds

“I came to think, to contemplate… To unwind” They responded “It's not everyday you summon your best friend and the man you would’ve wanted to be your boyfriend from beyond the grave to help deal with an existence ending threat” A short laugh escaped, followed by a deep sigh “It's not everyday you realise you’re truly the last of your kind” They said with a solemn tone

Y’shtola had no idea how to really comfort that… How do you comfort a being far older than you who is the last of their kind?, still. Y’shtola placed a comforting hand on halcyon's shoulder “Try not to bear that weight alone will you? I can’t ever begin to understand how you feel. But you’ve got friends who are willing to help you whenever they can”

Halcyon smiled, a gentle warmth filling their body “Thank you” They responded simply, returning their gaze to the ocean as the two stood there for a moment in silence

“What will you do now?” Y’shtola asked

“Well… My duty I suppose” Halcyon laughed “i am the Fourteenth seat of the Convocation of Fourteen. Shepard to the stars, it is my duty to travel the world and know its cultures and people. While my kin and fellow members of the convocation may be gone, I still remain to walk the lands. As azem has always done” Halcyon paused, face twisting in thought “No… Shepard to the stars is too forward, it sets a bad precedent…”

“For the warrior of light? I don’t believe anyone could argue your title” Y’shtola laughed

“My deeds go far and wide, tis true. But there are corners of this world where my deeds have not yet reached, my words yet touched” They let out a small grumble of thought, bringing their hand up to cup their chin between finger and thumb “Something to get one’s head around i suppose”

Y’shtola chuckled slightly again and shook her head “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. You have a way of managing that even when it comes to the most obscure of thoughts. I shall leave you to think” Y’shtola bowed her head and began to walk away

“Y’shtola?” Halcyon called out, glancing back

“Yes?”

“Apologies for earlier, my wounds were deep and no healing magic you could conjure would heal them” Halcyon said simply

Y’shtola shook her head “Think nothing of it. I’m glad you’re okay at the very least. A temporary discomfort outweighs your survival. I believe” Y’shtola smiled softly “If you need me. I’ll be with the others. An envoy from the new world arrived and i’m curious what business they have in sharlayan” With that y’shtola continued walking away

“Envoy…” Halcyon mumbled, eyes widening “That’s brilliant!. Envoy…” They mumbled to themself, the fog cleared and the thoughts were finally crystal clear “Halcyon. The world walker. Last of their kind. Envoy of the sundered world…” Halcyon looked out to the ocean, holding their hand out and letting the wind carry the elpis flower away “Yes. That will do quite nicely i think” Halcyon put their hands behind their back with a triumphant smile

The wind blew gently, carrying the scent of grass and ocean far past them… It was time to enjoy this new world and truly discover what it had to offer, to meet new people and break bread again. No longer obsessed with stopping the evil that lurked in the shadows… Though maybe one more adventure wouldn’t hurt “What would you think of this world had you the chance to explore it. My old friends?” They mumbled idly again, thinking of the past once more…

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #halcyon #my azem #my writing #writing prompt #not gonna tag this with XIV write #since i'm not taking full part in it #endwalker spoilers

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pettyprocrastination · 10 months

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hey hey hey im gonna talk about my oc Damian cause I love him a whole lot and im rewatching game of thrones as my usual summer tradition( if you want to read about him and his wife annette you can read the zine theyre in right here)

So originally I made him as a game of thrones oc so we'll talk about it in that sense

Butch gnc noble Lord. very not cis and very not straight but doesn't really have a definitive label cause its medieval times but he knows who he is and what he wants and that's enough.

His entire family died in a shipwreck he was apart of, including his twin brother. Because he knew the reality of his situation as the last living kin of his family + his position as somebody who is afab that would have been married off for his family's name and estate, he took his brother's clothes and has since been disguised as him for his entire life.

Northern lord! Very big and quiet, has resting rage face fr.

Long black hair and pale skin. Often wearing fur coats because yknow. it's the north.

So fond of wearing black people joke that if he wasn't nobleblood he would be apart of the night's watch.

I know they don't have tobacco in got but im pretending they do because mans likes to sit and smoke by himself. Has a polished wooden pipe that he'll smoke from after a long day of court and sit by the fire to unwind.

Not fond of hunting, actually. He'll do it for social events if pushed to or do so out of necessity but ultimately doesn't see the point in the sport of it like Robert Baratheon does.

known as being antisocial. Goes to all the events and makes niceties with those he has to but for the most part he's quiet and closed off and so clearly wants to not be there. Known as a "would-be hermit" in noble circles.

thick and big. amen

#ask #asks #damian tag #I WANNA TALK ABOUT DAMIANNNN

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captastra · 4 months

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Not sure if my previous ask went thru so how about 4, 5 and 10?

it did but thank you for this ask so I'll answer all the ones you asked <3!!!

How did your RT feel about Theodora? How did they feel when she died?

Lethyan isn’t sure what to make of Theodora at first, beyond her understanding of Theodora as a Rogue Trader. Everything she had known about Rogue Traders came from hearing stories told by Guardsmen or what she would see on the planets they would go to (few and fare between that weren’t being cleansed of chaos).

Lethyan saw her as a capable, demanding, no nonsense woman that she respected, but simply because she did not know what else to think of her. Lethyan never wanted to be heir, didn’t even know she was a von Valancius until her summons to the Rogue Trader’s ship.

So when Theodora was killed, there was no love lost, only sympathies for someone who still had many more years to give being killed before her time. Lethyan would also feel very angry towards Theodora, here this woman comes along, uproots her life, and then goes and dies on her, making forcing Lethyan into a position she never wanted and now must take on. That resentment always lingers, but eventually turns into pity when the truth is revealed about her death. Lethyan is no dogmatic follower, but she understands the importance of power and how easily it can corrupt.

What was their relationship with Edelthrad? Would your RT have been happy with an advisory role, or had they always wanted something more?

Lethyan only knew Edelthrad for a short time and even though they are kin as psykers, he was nothing to her when he was alive and a simple comrade who sacrificed himself to save her when he died.

That is to say Lethyan wouldn’t have been happy to serve in an advisory role. She simply only knew him for a few minutes before the mutiny occurred. Lethyan was content in her role to serve because it meant someone else had to make the tough decisions and she could simply be, fulfill her role, live, and fight for another day.

What was their relationship with others on the flagship before the events started.

Lethyan did not know any of them prior to arriving on the flagship. Her previous job would never have given her a chance to know them, aside from the stories she would hear about Theodora and her flagship.

Which companion is your RT closest to?

Lethyan becomes close to most of her companions. She comes to trust all of them with her life and enjoys their company for various reasons. So aside from Heinrix who becomes her closest confidant and lover (and who she loves to tease endlessly), Lethyan tends to go to the most is probably Cassia and Abelard, though she can be often found with Idira and Jae when she needs to unwind and relax. Pasqal she wants to be friends with but it become smore of a enjoyment discussing his perceptions of the world and faith in the Omnissiah.

#sorry i'm so late for this!!#rogue trader #oc: lethyan von valancius #tysm for asking <3

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serendipminie · 4 months

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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers ⭐️

Thank you so much Cami! Here goes:

Genshin and Honkai characters-- my cutest little loves

Doing rp! It's so nice to write as kinned characters and meet other mods :)

Writing and reading. Nothing is better than getting lost in a good book or organized document.

My lovely mutuals! You all feel like true friends to me and I'm so thankful because I don't have many friends in real life!

Music. It gives me life, it helps me focus or unwind.

#asks #ask answered #lovely mutuals #ask game

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ashes-and-static · 3 months

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Inspired by this work over here, concerning the existence of the death god before Narinder/The One Who Waits

Readmore because it's long. Might crosspost over to AO3 later.

Narinder opened his eyes, squinting into the gloom. He last remembered...

Right. He'd been out on a crusade with the Lamb, ensuring the borders around the cult's-

Well. It wasn't really a cult now, was it? More of a small village with a resident god who only wanted their people happy.

The village, then. They'd been making sure the borders around the village were secure. What had....?

He remembered seeing one of the larger invaders appear behind the lamb, one of those black-robed fiends that could vanish and appear at will, with its claws raised as if to strike the young Death god down-

Ah. Narinder had been foolish. The Lamb was sturdy stock, they would've been able to endure that strike even while wearing the Berserker's Fleece (which they didn't wear when they travelled with him, because they knew it made him upset), but Narinder himself was still recovering from his long centuries chained in that white hellscape. The blow meant for his Lamb had struck him instead, and now he found himself in an empty darkness, nothing but void as far as his three eyes could see.

I see you have found yourself mortal once again, O One Who Waits.

Narinder stiffened, feeling his fur bristle at the strange staticky voice.

"Who's there?!" He called, claws out and eyes wide. "What do you want?!"

You know who I am. You know exactly what I want.

A thrill of ice sank into his ribs. The Old God who claimed ownership of the crowns granted to himself and his siblings (and who apparently was an enemy to the mother of the Three, from what Shamura had later found) had named a price for "allowing" them to retain their gifts - if those crowns were ever lost, and something struck them down before Death could claim them...

Well. The hellish purgatory that the Lamb had told him about would seem tame in comparison.

Narinder tried to back away from where he thought the Eater was, his spatial awareness shot to pieces in the void.

There is no escape for you, Narinder. There is no Death to claim you here, they will not know to find you in My keeping.

"They will know!" Narinder insisted, hating the desperation that edged his voice. "I have had to teach them almost nothing, they will know how to find me!"

He hated, hated the sensations that crept along his skin, like he was a lone sheep being circled by wolves.

He wondered if this had been how the Lambs had felt, as they were rounded up, hunted down, slaughtered down to the last.

He barely had time to see, as a withered hand shot toward him-

And was struck away by a strange, hook-shaped staff.

NO!

"He doesn't belong to you, Zelkos. Nor do he or his siblings belong to your kin who devour each other, over and over again until the universe unwinds." Narinder almost wanted to weep in relief at the sound of that voice, of The Lamb's voice, but something was... different. Something he'd glimpsed for only a second when he'd fought the Lamb for the Red Crown.

And in the next moment, he could see.

The small stature, stubby horns and gentle face were gone, replaced by something more reminiscent of the Dragons of old - taller than Narinder was and broad as a mountain, two horns that bent above the head and another two curling around the ears, and a mouth that realistically shouldn't have canine teeth that sharp nor should it open that wide...

The Shepherd had been a fairy tale long before Narinder himself had been born, even Shamura had struggled to find mention of them in all their books. A legend, a myth even, from before legends had begun, the Shepherd had forged the Red Crown when they saw the struggles of those who died and failed to make the crossing between worlds.

The only people who had spoken of the Shepherd were the ones who claimed They were one of their own: the Lambs. Nomadic wanderers, always -in those days- passing through places in groups no smaller than ten, usually no greater than fifty. Ironically enough, they'd referred to their own navigators as Shepherds, as well.

The Shepherd of the Damned, the mythical god had been called. Narinder wondered why he'd ever forgotten.

A sharp crack of wood striking metal snapped him from his drifting thoughts. The Lamb - the Shepherd? - had batted away Zelkos, their muzzle wrinkled and teeth bared in a snarl. The Red Crown glowed like a beacon among the curls of wool atop their head, and their power wrapped around Narinder himself like armor, black cosmic fire burning between him and the writhing shadows of the void that had wanted to consume him.

"I have humbled far stronger gods than you, Zelkos. Do not make me end you, for there will be nothing waiting for you beyond the horizon." the Shepherd growled, their voice a rumble deep in their chest. "He. Is. Mine."

The eldritch monster grumbled softly, withdrawing itself back into the sphere-and-cloak-and-(broken)-halo form that Narinder remembered the Old Gods favoring.

I will not forget this, treacherous Lamb.

"Perhaps, then, you should also remember: even when my kind were driven from this land, I still took your siblings beyond the horizon. Force the issue, and I will take you as well."

Zelkos receded quickly, hissing as they did so, and the darkness faded into a soft grey. The Lamb let their power fade, gently reverting to their smaller form. Turning, they gestured for Narinder to bend forward and took his face into their hands, cupping his cheeks with a delicacy he hadn't expected.

"Are you injured?" They asked, their voice back to the featherlight bleating he was used to hearing. "I... haven't faced that one in many lifetimes, not since before you took up the Crown I think. And... unfortunately, I doubt I'll remember this after you're back in your body where you belong. The Crown remembers, but my mortal mind doesn't. Can't. Not yet, anyway."

"You... You are the Shepherd." Narinder whispered, letting himself drop to his knees. Looking up to the Lamb like they were something holy, something treasured.

"I was, and I will be, but I'm not. Not Yet. This body is too young." They smiled back at him, radiant and full of love. "You kept my crown safe while I could not wear it, and you loved it and me best of all my followers, just as you always have. My people are lost to this land, for now, but they will return as we always do. We're a little inevitable, like that. But, Nari, I don't have much time like this. You need to return to your body, and I can guide you there, but you have to trust me completely, alright? Otherwise, this will hurt."

Narinder didn't, couldn't hesitate. "Of course, Lamb."

-x-

He felt like he had when Leshy had bull-rushed him that one time, when they'd both been children still; his chest hurt, his legs felt like they had until very recently been at a very awkward angle, and it felt like there were many tiny people with lead hammers banging away on the inside of his skull. The pillow beneath his head was soft, though, and something smelled like mothers' milk and made the kitten buried deep in the recesses of his mind come forward and try to demand to both knead and nurse.

Were it not for how much movement hurt, Narinder would probably act on those instincts. As it sat, though, all he could really do was turn his head to one side and press slightly into the soft pillow beneath his head.

A gentle chuckle wrapped around him like a woolen blanket, and a featherlight touch against his head soothed the hammerers slightly.

"Sleep a little longer, dear one. The healing needs a little longer to fully take." A kiss, delicate and chaste, was placed over his central eye, and sleep once again swept over him.

#speaking #narilamb #cult of the lamb #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #cotl the one who waits #cotl narilamb #cult of the lamb narinder

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