Alia

[seeaadee]

I'm Suad from Ga-za I'm sorry to bother you. but hunger is eating us up. My child is of diapers. The prices are outrageous. Abag of flour costs $100. Mlilk is $80 Diapers are $50. Please don't let us down. Any donation you make will give us new hope for survival. If we don't die from the boombing, we will die of hunger

vetted by @gaza-evacuation-fund ✅️

[silverrings-n-prettythings]

Just for Tonight

a/n: this was technically a request, but I've had this WIP planned since I started the anime, so thank you @icedlemonlatte for giving me an excuse to write it!<3

Words: 4.5k

CW: Jinshi x Fem!Reader - Minors DNI - (reader insert but written with some of Maomao's personality and background in mind) Aphrodisiacs, sub!jinshi, praise kink, mouth spitting, dry humping, unprotected sex

--

“Master Jinshi requests your presence.” Gaoshun’s calm voice captures your attention. He's standing in the doorway with his usual stance, arms folded and back straight, but there was a minute anxiety in his brow you had almost written off as a trick of the flickering candlelight. A weary sigh leaves your lips while lifting a hand to pinch at the stress pulsing deep in your sinuses. A needy one, Master Jinshi  was. Always nipping at your heels when he wasn’t charming the court ladies. 

“What does he need now? I’ve had a long day.”

“I understand.” Gaoshun bows to signal his apologies at the intrusion so late into the night. “But you see, Master Jinshi is unwell, and well…” A bead of sweat rolls over his temple while ruminating which words to use since the current situation required the utmost care of confidentiality for a man of his stature, but the growing silence only annoys you further. You’ve become well accustomed to Master Gaoshun and have therefore chosen to abandon decorum.

“Please, just spit it out.”

Master Gaoshun’s back stands at attention. “It’s an emergency. I’m unsure how– uh, long he will last through the night. We need our apothecary.”

Gaoshuns buttering did convince you, just a little, since he always treated you with respect as if you weren’t of inferior birth– someone as lowly as a simple maid-turned-apothecary in the Rear Court, but you also knew that it would be easier to see Master Jinshi and corral him back into place so you may finally get a moment's reprieve. So, with reluctance, you agree. Before you know it, a carriage brings you to Master Jinshis home within the Inner Palace. 

In hindsight, you should have been suspicious with the way you were rushed out of the carriage and ushered inside. It would have been an even greater sign to be wary of the way Suiren was seemingly absent, since she was an omnipresent force within his home. And more than that, the quickened apology muttered from Gaoshun before he scurried off should of been the biggest waving red flag of them all, but your habit of ignoring warnings and cautions in favor of the ‘not my business’ attitude you so stubbornly held onto had you staring at the large doubles doors in front of you with nary an alarm bell.

“Alright…” You mutter with a deep sigh to collect yourself before pushing the heavy doors open, revealing… nothing.

Suspicious eyes flit around the room, toeing past the threshold with cautious steps. There’s a tangible shift in the atmosphere that you’re not exactly too eager to place, but it feels heavy, thick with an unnamed feeling that clings to your back and crawls up your neck. The sound of hushed whimpers alert you, shifting yourself to look at the large wooden canopy bed. There’s a nagging voice echoing in your head to turn around, to pretend you didn’t hear anything and inform Gaoshun that Master Jinshi wasn’t on premises and go about your night to save yourself the headache… Although, if you didn’t do your due diligence as a newly-appointed apothecary for someone as important as Master Jinshi, it could result in never having a headache again… because it could very well be detached from your body. A puff of annoyed air leaves your lungs as you turn around to peek past the wooden walls to investigate.

The sight that greets you was one you shouldn’t have seen. Master Jinshi was halfway disrobed, sweaty, and flushed. His broad chest, usually hidden away by layers of fine robing, was on display, glistening with a sheer gleam of sweat, and his chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace. His hair, which was normally pulled back into a neat silken half bun, was now spilling over the pillows in dismay while the shorter plum colored silk strands clung to his forehead. Was it poison? What poisons had this sort of effect? It was apparent his heart rate was elevated, and while he showed signs of labored breathing, he had no indication of nausea, sunken skink, or–

“A-apothecary–” Jinshi’s strained voice broke through the whirlwind of thoughts. “You need… you need to leave at once–”

He immediately shifts his body and coils away from you. It’s curious how the muscles in his back flex and bow, he’s extremely well built for a eunuch. In fact, now that you think about it. There were many curious things about him that didn’t quite fit for a typical eunuch, perhaps you shouldn’t delve too far into that. So you will thought away by shaking your head, focusing more on the task at hand. Your knee comes up to climb into the large bedded space, but as if Jinshi is hyper-aware of his surroundings, he flinches and curls further into his defensive fetal position.

“I said go away! Please.” A pregnant pause fills the enclosed oaken space. “...For your safety. Please, just take your leave.” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, whatever illness had befallen him must have been serious. 

There was a sliver of concern that started creeping into your bones and settling into your lip, subconsciously you took the soft flesh of your bottom lip in between your teeth, gnawing idly to soothe your worry and focus on whittling down any remedies he may need. With a hesitant hand, you bring it forward to attempt to soothe him, but a speed at which he turns over and clasps it with urgency startles you. Somehow, in the blink of an eye he was looming above, you could feel your quickened pulse under his strong fingertips.

“I don’t know if I could hold myself back any longer.” Jinshi brings your palm to rest onto his cheek, his shoulders rise with the deep breath he takes and leans into the touch. His skin is hot, burning even. And you saw a flash of his eyes, even if they were hidden coyly underneath the long lashes that kissed the apples of his cheeks; his pupils were blown wide, a void of hunger that overtook and swallowed aubergine irises until they were all but a sliver. Everything began adding up, quick calculations of everything that transpired in the past few minutes pointed to the worst case scenario:

Master Jinshi was under the effects of an aphrodisiac– a powerful one at that. 

But that begged a question: Could eunuchs be subject to aphrodisiacs? It was a peculiar situation; the effects hadn’t really been studied before, and since they were missing the main component of sex, it now opened a floodgate that poured in a hundred new questions of how sex and attraction– the very human component of it, actually worked. Did it reside in the brain? Hormones? And even so, how would a eunuch satisfy the desire? With missing parts, would they simply whither and succumb to it? What could possibly be the cure?

What fortuitous opportunity for research, you think–

“Apothecary.” 

You jump at his strained voice. Shit. You had gotten too caught up in treating him like a lab rat, and you were here to do a job, although the nature of his situation changed everything. There wasn’t a cure-all for aphrodisiacs, at least one hasn’t been discovered yet.

Jinshi collapses onto your torso and wraps his arms around your waist, tightening his arms and locking you into a vice grip, like he was holding onto the last thread of self control. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and mutters something.

“...What’s that?” 

“I said,” Jinshi angles his face so his lips are unobstructed. “You always look at me like I’m some little bug.” 

Whoops. Were you really so awful at managing your expressions? You remember when Gaoshun had a little talk about it with you, you had really thought you got better about it.

“I like it.” He admits while his back rolls upwards.

Okay– you think, while attempting to writhe out of his grasp. He’s been handy before, but this has been quite enough intimate proximity to him to last a lifetime.

“Alright Master Jin–” You’re interrupted by his heavy body weight pressing further into your lungs, the dead weight pinned your limbs into the firm mattress below. 

“Please.” He begs. 

You continue trying to writhe out of his grasp while he keeps whispering apologies into your chest, but making no move to rectify himself. It’s as if his body is moving on his own; as if he knows what he’s doing is wrong and wishes he could control himself. In the struggle, limbs are lost in the fight for dominance, he apologizes when he catches your wrists and pins them down, using his leg to press in between your own to pin you down, and in that struggle you feel something hard and decently sized pressing against your core. 

“Wh-”

“I-I’m sorry!” Jinshi is panicked. Salt brine spills from over his lashes as he buries his face further into you ashamed. “I- I never meant… for you to find out this way.”

Time suspends momentarily, and suddenly every spare and seemingly out of place puzzle piece falls into place. Have you really been so blind? No, you were willfully ignorant and you knew it, but now that the truth was so blatantly in your face, or rather pressed in between your thighs. The once silent alarm bells begin to ring, just a little too late. Just how the hell is he allowed into the Rear Palace? And just who is Master Jinshi? The nature of his identity didn’t open a jar of worms, it dug out the entire garden and plucked every unsavory bug from the soil and thrust it into the burning sunlight.

Jinshi knew he fucked up, he knew you were tasked with making the high-ranking concubine Gyokyu aphrodisiacs for her little visit with the emperor. His mischievous nature would always be the end of him, giving nary a thought as he plucked a small treat from the bag before they were delivered. He had severely underestimated how powerful they would be, all he wanted was to feel a little needy and send for you. He had no ill intentions, he simply wanted to capture your attention since it was so hard to come by. Every lady in court ould fawn over him, but never you. Not the Apothecary who would cast a venomous glance toward him, it sent a shiver down his spine. He just wanted an excuse to see it again, and his wish was granted tenfold. 

His body wracked with need, the room boiled, his heart begged for freedom, beating wildly against its cage. Panic flooded his nervous system, freezing ice crystals spreading down his veins as time passed. Stupid, stupid– he repeats the scalding mantra to himself. He could feel his control slipping away with each passing second, and he was terrified what would happen when he saw you. And when he finally did, his limbs became their own, reaching for solace despite his mind screaming for mercy.

It was tortuous to be held prisoner within his own body. Every nerve under his skin was a blazing torch alight with urgency. And now you were pressed against him, your scent dancing around his nose, your heat blanketing him while he feels your heartbeat against his own in rhythm. He knew then, he would throw everything away just to have a taste, he would do so gladly even if it meant living a life without you.

“Please. Just for tonight. Just this once.” His plea was a hushed whisper against your skin.

This wasn’t normal for him, you think back to his usual fleeting and aloof demeanor around the palace walls, there was no sign of this in sight. He was stripped bare and flayed to the bone in his most vulnerable state. It twisted something in you, whether it was pity or affection– you decided not to place. But who were you to deny him? You were brought here to take care of him after all. And while your chastity was intact, you were no stranger to sex and intimacy, growing up around a brothel. All your sisters were well known and highly sought after courtesans, and they taught you all the tricks and trades of the career despite being younger. It came with the times and life you were born into, even though you preferred to have your nose buried in research books and poisonous herbs rather than a man's pelvis. Still, you knew a thing or two to satiate him. 

So, after a not so careful consideration, you supply your answer:

“Alright.”

He’s on you in an instant, his weight pressing you further into the mattress as his lips press against your neck in urgency. Whatever gratitudes that spilled from his lips were lost against the surface of your skin, and as much as you didn’t care for his antics you would be hard pressed to say you weren’t enjoying his praise and the way he crumbled against you. It felt good. Living a simple life while watching luxury and power from a far distance was the normal, but to taste a sample of it being reversed into your favor prickled your skin in a delightful way, it stoked your ego as bellow against a roaring hearth would ignite the white hot coals. While the iron was hot you struck, hooking your leg around his hip and using momentum to your advantage, Jinshi whimpers as he’s pinned against the mattress. You bring your knee to rest in between his thighs and press into his bulge, your hands grip his wrists at the side of his head. 

“You want it so bad, then stay still and be good.” 

Jinshi’s fingers twitch, feeling the tendons beneath his wrist fex under your finger tips and he moans. His hips involuntarily roll as they search for relief, which is quickly chastised by the way you press your knee further into his crotch. 

“What did I just say?” You ask with a little venom behind your inquisition, as if you were scolding a petulant child. 

“Stay- stay still and…” He moves his face away and stares at the wall in shame. “And be good.”

“That's right, so you do have a brain underneath all that silky hair. That’s good.” Perhaps you were being a little harsh as you lifted your robes and climbed into his lap, but he did always seem to have a knack for being told what to do, even if he pretended otherwise. 

With your robes pooled around your hips you settle onto his pelvis, feeling the way his length twitched under your heat. Damn, if that doesn’t feel kind of good…

Your eyes fall closed for a moment as you breathe slowly, collecting yourself and recalling the advice your sisters had given so long ago before lifting your hips and pressing, dragging your clothed core against his hard length. And then again, again, the motions soon coming as naturally as the seas waves against shore. Jinshi’s hands fly and make a landing onto your hips, his fingertips making divots into your flesh with the strength of his grip to ground himself. 

“Y-yes, please, m-more, please.” His warm breath fans against your chest as your chest lowers, anchoring yourself with a palm splayed next to his hand on the mattress. “Feels so good.” Jinshi continues to babble in a sweaty haze, his praises while welcome, were a bit foreign and overloaded your brain. Between him and the thick atmosphere in the room you began to feel dizzy as well, frustrated at feeling like you were losing a little bit of control. You snatch your hair ribbon and let the loose strands fall free as you quickly loop it around the back of his head and tie a neat little bow in between his lips. Cute. 

You lean back to appreciate your work, it wasn’t like anyone was around to see you gawk anyway. But damn, his flushed skin and soft hair spilling over the pillows and the way his brows scrunched in pleasure was a sight to behold. One that would start wars, even. Intrigued eyes rake down his form, landing on his broad chest that was still partially hidden by his robes, and slowly, you bring your palms to feel his breathing, noticing the way he flinches and whimpers under your touch. The way his chest shakes with ragged breaths as you spread your palms away and push the remaining fabric to undress him makes you grin deviously before raking your nails back across and taking his blushed nipples in between your fingertips to pinch and roll them in tandem. 

“Hnnnggg!” Jinshi’s cry is muffled by the fabric taken between his teeth, his hips buck hard enough to feel the blunt head of his cock press into your clit and now you’re the one that has to bite back a sound. 

Jinshi’s fingertips dig deeper into your hips, and with another whine there's a wordless question reflected in his watery eyes and worried brow. He’s begging, pleading, to feel all of you against him. You tsk at his beseeching but nevertheless raise your hips up to undress, nearly snorting at the eager squeal that leaves his throat.

The thing about Jinshi was that he seemed easy to read. A flirtatious, aloof, eunuch that enjoyed his charm and had a distaste for serious work. Oftentimes you could find him in tow with Gaoshun walking around the rear palace, leaving the various ladies fawning and fainting behind the long amethyst hair that trailed behind him. It was easy to be irritated by such a man, one who was of higher birth than yourself, but as you spent more time with him, the facade had slowly cracked away. Granted, his boastful and carefree outlook still made your skin crawl, but you can’t help but recall times where you spent time together and you got to know him deeper, and start to piece together his true nature. Even if you spackled and patched the wall that crumbled day by day, it was still easy to see that at the core of it all, the two of you were basically the same; trying to find your place in the world, and if allowed, to find a sliver of peace in it. 

And right now, the way he’s been looking at you feels as if you were the very oasis at the end of a long and jaded journey. It’s just the effects of the aphrodisiac, you barter, attempting to talk yourself down from the ledge of such dangerous thoughts. But then you recall the same look from past times, on the road with him, late at night when you crossed paths and no one was around. A soft, comforting thumb touches your cheek, dispelling the cloud of thoughts swirling above, it’s Jinshi, reaching out with a question in his gaze. It’s warm, comforting, as if he’s asking if everything is alright, as if he needs to know if you want this as much as he does. 

A smile graces your lips, one you’re unaware is displayed. You lean down to untie the ribbon, perhaps it’s an olive branch, perhaps it’s pity. You don't dwell on it. 

“You want to feel good?” You begin to lower yourself onto his hard cock, wincing at the pressure as you sink deeper. Soothing circles are rubbed into your side, momentarily distracting you from the stretch that began to sting at the intrusion. 

Jinshi himself is holding himself together at the seams, biting his lip so his fingers wouldn't bruise you. His eyes roll into the abc of his head in bliss while he mutters ‘yes, please, please.’

Your back arches, head falling back and taking a breath, eyes falling closed while you center yourself and adjust to his size. What a sight to behold from below, Jinshi himself feels like he’s died and seen the afterlife. The way your breasts sit on your chest, the curves and lines of your arms that anchor yourself as you’re sheathed on him, like you’re one soul melding together. He’s dreamed of this often, and if it’s another dream he hopes he’ll never wake up. 

“Then make me feel good, then you can kiss me.”

Leaning over to trace the curve of his jaw, your fingers make way to thread themselves into his hair, wrapping the fine silk around your fingertips until they hit his scalp. His mouth falls open silently before finally moaning when you give him a firm tug while rolling your hips, riding him until tears prick the corners of his eyes. It feels divine.

“Open your mouth.” Your demand is firm, but soothed by a gentle thumb tracing his bottom lip, and he complies eagerly. You lean in close, just a breadth above his lips, and let a long trail of spit fall into his mouth, and he bucks his hips and swallows it greedily, groaning at the sweet taste. 

“Good boy.” Your praise ignites him further, he plants his heels into the mattress to raise his hips and meet your rhythm to hit your sweet spot. 

The resolve you held began to slip away with each thrust, your nails dug further into him and broke his skin, as if you were trying to hold onto the control you felt slipping away.

“Fuck.”

He swears he could almost blow his entire load right there on the spot, watching you begin to come undone onto him, he’s the one making you feel this good, and the way your walls are squeezing him tight has him begging for mercy, but he wants nothing more than to seize the opportunity you’ve graced him with. He would let his body break apart and put himself back together once more to hear you scream his name. 

Blissful moans filled the enclosed space until the last drops of candlelight burned and spilled hot wax over the table. Limbs tangled with silk sheets as your heartbeats synched while your bodies writhed against each other, with only the salt of sweat and musk of sex filling your senses. When you finally screamed his name and collapsed on him he gave mercy, just for a beat. 

“You said I could kiss you if I made you feel good…” Jinshi mutters in between your breasts while pressing saccharine sweet kisses to your skin. All you can provide is a weary nod in agreement. 

His frame cages you underneath him, his back arched as he leans closer to brush his nose with yours, while the warmth from his palm sears into your thigh. His fingers are splayed wide to claim as much of your flesh as they can, running them underside your thigh to guide it up and secure it over his hip, effectively pressing himself deeper into you. He’s lost in you; your touch, your scent, the sound of your breath.

“Like this?” He whispers above your lips, giving a firm squeeze to your thigh while pressing his cock harder so his pelvis brushes your clit. He makes no further move, but observes with a watchful gaze as your lips fall open and eyes flutter. God, does he want to do it again, to burn the image of your delirium into his eyelids so he could see it every moment his eyes were closed. 

Your hands roam the expanse of his back, it was a useless attempt to gain your bearings in the thick blanket of bliss that suffocated the both of you, and when he whispered gentle questions begging for an answer, you looked into his lidded gaze and muttered a pleading ‘yes.’

That single word was all he needed before his lips crashed into yours, tongue darting out to drag against your lips begging for permission to part them and take you whole. You can feel his arms release your limbs and wrap underneath your shoulder to pull you close, feeling the breath knocked from your lungs as he lets his full body weight collapse onto you while his hips begin to piston desperately and chase his second high. 

Every part of Jinshi is melting into you, you’re surrounded by the storm of his need and all you can do is surrender. And you know what? It felt divine. Your entire life was set by the pace of caution, to always look over your shoulder and take care of yourself, you had spent the night desperately clinging to your control, and now that the threads that bound yourself to such responsibility were snapped and fell past your limbs it felt like you were able to take flight. His lips kissed every inch they could find, his hands caressed every dip and curve as if he wanted to memorize every freckle and bone, and honeyed words of devotion spilled from his lips until they coated your body in sickly sweet tar. 

Praise left your throat before you could catch the words; butterflies that had flown free from it’s net:

“So good, Master Jinshi. So, so good.” 

The words trailed fire along his back, standing every hair at attention; your attention, and his rhythm faltered, becoming sloppy and desperate to bring you both to the mountain's edge. A sharp pain resounds from your neck and travels down your spine before pooling into your abdomen and sloshing into pleasure. The source was his teeth, clamping onto your pulse point while he continued pistoning his cock against the spongy spot nestled into your core. He was dangerously close, only using the feeling of your pussy clenching around him to hold out strong and push himself to the end to take you with him. 

He brings a hand around the small of your back to angle your hips upwards, allowing the new angle to grind against your clit with his thrusting in a last ditch effort to hasten your peak. And with each movement, the coil wound tight in your belly snaps; blinding white light fills your vision as the free fall begins. Pleasure rips from your throats in perfect cadence to one another as the pace slows with the shared decent, shaking limbs and lips dance with each other as Jinshi gives one, two, three last hard thrusts, cherishing the little squeaks that beg mercy before he rolls over and pulls you into his side. 

He presses one last kiss into your hairline.

“I said just for tonight, but the sun hasn’t risen yet. So you have to stay with me tonight.”

His arms tighten around you in possession, although his words carry a bite that matches his usual demeanor, there's a tone hidden underneath that begs a question, a plea. He didn’t want to let you go just yet. And instead of questioning the implications, you simply let sleep sprinkle its sand into your eyes, and feel his breath against your own. Whatever came with the sun would be dealt with then.

[fleetingloremasterrebel]

Hello,,,

I'm Aya from Gaza 🇵🇸… I’m writing this with a heart that feels broken 💔. Last night, the storm hit us so hard that the rain 🌧️ and wind 💨 collapsed our tent on top of my children 😔. They woke up crying, soaked, and terrified… and we stood in the cold with no shelter at all 🥶.

I try every day to stay strong 💔‍🩹 but life has become heavier than I can carry alone. Prices are unbearable, and I can’t even provide the simplest things anymore—food 🍞, clothes 👕, warmth 🧣… nothing.

I’m reaching out with so much shame 😞 but with a mother’s hope that someone out there might feel our pain. If you can help us with anything—even a small amount—it could bring a little safety and comfort to my children 🤲😭.

Donate to Shelter and Hope for Aya's Family, organized by Halina Kraft

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Thank you for taking a moment to read our message 💛.

[alwan-su7haailav-gaza]

I don’t know if anyone will read this… or if my voice will disappear like everything else we lost.

My name is Suhaila, a mother of five children.

My daughter Mira is in a very critical condition, and every passing moment brings us closer to losing her if help does not arrive in time.

I hold her small hand, watch her struggle to breathe, and pray for one more chance for her life.

Please… act now. Silence is taking her away from me. Every moment without help brings us closer to losing her. I beg you from my heart, don’t scroll past—help us before it’s too late.

Every second matters. Any small donation can help save her life. Please don’t ignore us. Share this message, donate if you can. Your kindness could give my daughter a chance to live and see tomorrow

Every second now is precious, and every act of kindness could be the reason she survives.

I am not asking for anything impossible—just a chance for my daughter to live, to stay with her siblings, and to have a tomorrow.

Please do not ignore this message.

If you cannot donate, please share it.

Your compassion might be the reason Mira lives.

I beg you with all my heart, stop here – donate, share, choose compassion before this silence becomes my daughter’s end.

Thank you for listeningMy daughter is on the edge of death. Every passing second could cost her life.

Share, donate now, and don’t let silence steal her minutes. Your kindness can save her today.

Donation link below 👇

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💬 69  🔁 7018  ❤️ 1447 · My name is Suheila from Gaza 🇵🇸, a mother of 5 children, living with my family in a tent after the war destroyed ou

[luckyglitterz]

Quotes From My Writing Diary: "Yeah, I can drive, but we'll have to listen to the playlist I made for my character, which includes many corny songs."

[maidthings]

i really like how the milkman exists as an entirely fossilized character who now serves no purpose other than to fuck people's wives for the punchline

[xi-phos]

This fuckass fandom purification that's going on rn is making me want to ship absolutely horrendous ships.

"They're not canon" hoe you better fix that attitude or i'm gonna write your favourite age gap pseudosiblings going at it like rabbits. I swear to GODS.

[brideofwierwoods]

Dalton Greyjoy fucking you until you’re sore and full of his cum while you scream and struggle <3

[brideofwierwoods]

Brynden rivers x Stark fem reader!

Warnings : Non-Con/ Rape, bruises, posession, obsession, derealisation, paranormal. Neck kisses, bondage, fem receiving oral. Mentions of blood. Forced orgasm. MINORS DO NOT INTERRACT

Your consumption for media is your responsibility. I take to heart to ensure my work is tagged and warnings are always up, if you choose to ignore them don’t complain in the comments.

Might write a whole fanfic for this

I’m afraid.

— By the way, spoilers ahead if you’ve only started to watch/ read game of thrones.

——————————————————

Somehow, every morning you’d wake up in the lap of the Godswood.

Your neck is painted in red bruises. Between your thighs, you’re as slick as oil, a hollow ache throbbed there as strong as your heart and your wrists are marked by tree branches that coiled like a serpent around your wrists. A faint scent of soil clung to you like flesh to bones, a scent that slithered through your nose like an u welcomed serpent.

Frowning, you tugged at the laces of your night shift and tugged it down to pool at your waist. Bruises marred your flesh, from throat, to breasts, in between breasts and down on your belly. Lifting your hem, there, marks of branches were angry red. Your eyelids fell shut and a long sigh-sobb left your lips.

It was a dream. Yet, it felt as though it happened truly. The pain and pleasure of having him inside you is real. The marks he left on you were real. If anyone— Gods, your father or worse, your mother saw them, what would you tell them then? They’d think it was Theon or Jory. Gods above, no, never Jory. Your father knew him better than that. But Theon? Everyone knew Theon. They’d likely make you marry him, even though he was nowhere near you and your parents did not believe in dreams… could this even be called a dream?

“No one will have you but me” he whispered, his breath cold like wet mud as he slammed into you. Your cry of pain made roses bloom and bleed. His eyes were red blood, filled with the hunger of a beast. Chill Lips gentle but teeth sharp against your throat. Wierwood branches wrapped around your wrists holding them down and keeping your thighs open.

“Stop” tears blurred your vision. Each thrust tore something from you and replaced with something of his. A brand. The smell of roses, blood and soil dizzed you. “It hurts”

Ice finger cupped your face, wiping away your tears, then moving to your bottom lip. He filled you slowly now, deeply meanig to root himself in you. His mouth closed around your nipple making you whimper. It so cold it hurt. Your flesh lit hot against his own.

“Gods” the pain ebbed away, leaving a pleasure you never felt before, you tugged at the bindings that dug in your skin. “No..”

“Sing, my rose. The old gods love nothing more than a virgin’s blissful weep”

Your breath hitched, it turned into a whine as he went harder. Your back arched against your will, branches dug into your flesh. “No, no— Ahhah!” He buried himself to root, his lips pressing to your temple, it was then you saw him and believed you had gone truly mad. Brynden Rivers. The one you heard of only in history.

“Y/n!” A sharp knock rang at the door, your heart leapt from your chest. Septa mordane. “Open”

“I’m getting dressed!” You answered, pulling your shift back on.

“Good, your Lord Father requests your presence at once. Wear something presentable, Lord Karstark and His son Harrion will be coming for your hand”

Internally you wished to fling yourself from the window. “Yes, septa”

The Karstark’s had not hesitated to come for your hand once you were of age. The very moment you had met the Karstark’s during supper you knew what they wanted. They weren’t the only ones, however. Many young Lords who were sons of your father’s banner men had come for your hand. Many were refused. If only the Old Gods had taken godsworm women like the faith of the seven does. You would take it gladly. Becoming a septa was out of your desire, as you had no faith in the faith of the seven.

Nor would you accept it. The old Gods have sang to you ever since you had been a babe at your mother’s breast. They say every morning you were found in a cradle of pale branch underneath the Godswood, at touch it was warm as a living creature, but once you were out it turned cold. At nine you began to hear The gods speak, at twelve you had dreamed of a crown ripped from your hands— and that winter your baby brother Robb was born. The moment you saw him, small and sweet you cared for no crown.

The gown you chose was dark blue velvet, high collared with long cape like sleeves . You brushed your hair until it shone, bound in the fashion of your father wore his, you put on a headdress with a veil attached to it. It was said the women of the first men had veiled themselves and sang to the old gods. Having your hair uncovered since felt like treason. You perfumed yourself and then walked out.

In the Great hall, Your Lord Father, Robb, Bran, And Rickon in your mother’s lap waited for you. Baby Rickon ripped away from Lady Catelyn and ran to you. You picked him up and settled him on your hip. There was also Lord Karstark and Lord Harrion.

“Lord Karstark” You addressed politely. “Tis a pleasure to have you here”

“The honour is ours, Lady Stark. I present you My son and Heir Harrion Karstark”

Lord Harrion stepped toward you with a proud smile on his face. You gave him your hand and he kissed your knuckle. You could tell the old Goat (as Jon mocked him) tried not to scoff. He considered kissing a lady’s knuckles a southern thing. And the south was considered a seat for the soft belies. You would have rolled your eyes. But people watched and you were tired. Any time you closed your eyes you saw his face. And once again, you remembered what happened.

“My lady”

Harrion jolted you. You felt something warm trickle down your upper lip, dabbing it with your fingers, you saw it was blood. Rickon started crying and clutching you tight.

“He came to take you!”

“Rickon” your father now stepped toward. “What is it that you’re saying!”

“He came, he came !” The boy pointed at the end of the hall where no one was. Shaggy Dog snarled, your own direwolf Shadow growled at Harrion. Harrion and His father stepped back.

“Shadow stop! To me, now!”

“He came, he came!”

It was then you saw something in Lord father’s eyes. Something that was perilously close to recognition. Recognition of what? What was it that he recognized ? Did he know? Did it have something to do with your aunt Adelaide stark? Lord stark schooled his features too fast.

“Make them stop, Now”

“Shadow,” you said more softly, caressing the wolf’s head. His head whooped to you and Gods; he grew so much. He became quiet. Rickon however was still crying. And your mother Catelyn couldn’t pry him off you.

“Shadow, make Shaggy stop”

Your wolf obeyed you by trotting to Shaggy. But The other wolf attacked him and the wolves began to tear at each other.

“Nymeria!”

Arya’s wolf lunged and the wolves broke apart. Shadow and Nymeria growled at Shaggy, the wolf had given up when Rickon called him at their side. No longer crying. The blood in your veins froze when you saw it too. A shadow that vanished too fast.

“Forgive us, Lord Karstark” It was your who spoke up, “The wolves have been restless recently” in her you noticed the same tension as your father had.

Lord Eddard blinked. “Aye. We’ll have the wolves tied. Let us celebrate this union over meat and mead.”

“Of course, Lord Stark” though, you had seen the way his jaw tightened beneath the Snow White beard.

“He’s coming to you, tonight” Rickon whispered before falling asleep on your shoulder.

You had woken you in a cold sweat in your chamber. No longer in your velvet but in your nightshift. The hearth’s hum comforted you. At your right stood a burning candle and your heat throbbed. All you remembered were the wolves in the hall, Rickon’s small voice, and a moving shadow before everyone turnt black. You had fainted before you could reach the table. You didn’t know what they talked, you could only hope Harrion had broken the engagement. He would. No doubt. You’d seen the way he eyed the Mormont girl. His father however would put him in a grave if he tried.

You sighed.

He’s coming tonight

A cold swallowed the warmth from the room. The heart became silent, only your candle was alive, and the heart rattled against your ribcage. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You wanted to shout for your father, your mother, Robb, Jon, anyone but no sound came out no matter how hard you try, you can’t scream or move. A whisper of wind brushed against the side of your neck, making you stop breathing. Slowly, you turned and saw the shadow of a man in a hood and a raven on his shoulder. It simply slithered, on the stone walls, growing larger, its steps creaked like tree limbs in wind. It first locked your door. Then moved to the mirror.

“What do you want from me?” You managed to speak, tears swelled in your eyes as you watch go behind the mirror. There, you saw him. His flesh was pale like milk, with hair white like the snow and an eye red like the ruby earrings glistening on your table and an empty socked. On the right side of his face was a the winestain that he was named after. It stretched from his throat to his cheek and it was red like blood. He stared at you and reached a hand through the glass.

You bolted from your bed towards the window, struggling to unlock the door. The small key unmovable. “Help! Father, mother! Jory!” You banged your fists against the door. But even that felt small. You turned and the mirror shattered, pieces of it fell gracefully like snow on the floor. He stood tall, in a crimson tunic, black boots, with no hood. But woolen breeches.

“No..” your voice is small. Your back hit the door, as if you slide through it. You wished you could. He had you crowed. One hand rose and touched your cheek. Cold. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Not wanting to look, you shut your eyes. He leaned and kissed your forehead, your temple, your cheek, jaw and your neck. His lips were glacier against your skin, heating your own flesh. A whimper left you before you could stop it, head titling back, he went lower until in the hollow of your throat where he stopped.

In that silence only your ragged breaths are heard. His hand pulled at your shift, it loosened and fell off you. He then kissed lower as he did in your dream and before you knew quiet moans left you. Shivering as he stopped at your womb.

“It’s cold” you whispered.

“You’re of the north, Y/N Stark. Embrace or it will consume you, not in the way I will tonight”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because the old Gods have given you to me” he kissed your thigh. “And they shall have what they demand”

Tears rolled down your cheeks. “I don’t want this.. please”

“Soon you will” he rose up. Looming over , Gods, he was a terrifying sight. He picked you up in both arms and carried you to the bed where you laid too tender and placed himself above you. You were eye to eye with him. He looked at you as though you were an altar. His thumb ghosted over your cheek, wiping your tears and moving to your lower limp.

“I have waited. I will not wait any longer, do not worry, The Gods saw me fit to have a bride, I will prove myself worthy”

“No-“ that fell on deaf ears, he pried open your thighs, kissing the inner flesh, making your jolt. Heat poured through you when he edged close to your inner thigh. Then higher until his mouth was on your pearl.

Your thighs clenched around his head, hoping for him to vanish. Instead he forced them apart and pushed your knees to your chest as he ate you until you were a whining mess and even then he did not stop. His tongue lapped at the bundle, lips closing around it making you sobb and try to pull away fruitlessly.

“Gods!”

He gave one long lick making you shiver.

“Sing My love, the gods love a weeping virgin” then buried his face back in. You arched, eyes falling shut as another sobb left.

You could hear whispers. A wind. The voice of the old Gods often resembled wind. Behind your eyelids you saw a man with the head of a wolf being tied to a horse and paraded among people. It wore a black tunic with the stark pin at the chest. Robb. Your baby brother? No, not him, anything but him! It cut to Ice swung on your father’s head, Jory being killed, your eyes open and you cried. Out.

“Please, Gods no! No— Ah!” Your head tossed back. Red sap bled from above right on where your womb was. You choked a sob. It was too much. “Too much!” You whimpered, thrashing your head. “Too much, Gods please-“ “no, no, no, no!” Your surroundings spun with you as he sucked, then lapped again, nipping gently sending a shruder through you. A pressure filled your lower belly the more he ate you. tears had soaked your face and the bedsheets beneath. The pressure snapped and a scream left your mouth. Thighs clamped and shakes as he drank from you like you were wine.

Once it was over. You were convulsing and soaked. Looking at him from hooded eyes as he untouched himself. His flesh had pitches of pale tree bark and stains of crimson leaves. Bloodraven put his head between your breasts and then you felt it. The head nudging at your soaked entrance. More tears poured, not from this but what the old Gods had shown her.

A pale hand caressed her hair.

“Hush, my bride will not weep”

“The goods like weeping virgins”

“Weeping from pleasure”

White pleasure shot through your spine. Hands flying at his shoulders to push him away, they ended up pulling him and clawing at his bare back until blood came out, sticky like sap. He was buried to the hilt thick and stretching you too good.

“I hate you”

“I will make you love me” he pulled back and slammed him, the curse words dying on your tongue. Lips back to your neck. You hated that stared to love his mouth against you. Or the way he took you. Your hands were pulled back and pinned against the linen, not by his own. You felt rough tree bark. Your mouth hung open, moans pouring through. The slap on skin to skin so loud you didn’t realise it rained until it thundered.

The back of your head buried itself in the pillow. His flesh grinding against your own. Chest against chest, stomachs against stomachs, his lips to your neck and him deep in you, hitting a spot that made your vision whiten. Every Linquid slam made your blood boil, making your mind melt. That firm pressure filled you again, and when it broke, roses blooded from above where sap trickled. His seed spilled in you. Only the old Gods knew what monstrosity you would bear.

“You are mine by blood and seed” he told her softly. “A bride in red. Your place is with me now and forever. Try to run and I will haunt you until you come back”

[brideofwierwoods]

Iron born! Cregan Stark x Septa! fem reader.

Warnings : Rape/Non-Con, virginity loss, dacryphilia, blood kink, overstimulation, breeding kink. odaxophilia, sacrilege, blasphemy, rough, pain infliction, DEAD DOVE, NOT EAT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Your consumption of media is your own responsibility just as it’s mine to warn you of the contents of my work. If you chose to willingly read despite knowing you’re sensitive to the topics I named above don’t go crying in the comments.

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The great hall was overrun with laughter and clattering of dishes as a thousand men tore through the meat and mead of your Lord. They were rugged men, in boiled leather and ring-mail with their axes and swords at their hip, bearing the golden kraken across their chests. Laughing and throwing cruel, foul japes that made you flinch. With your head lowered you continued to serve, trying your best to ignore the flaying gazes of those men as you filled their cups with ale.

Stories of iron born came back to you; reavers, rapers that spared no one and you were the only woman there, with no men of your Lord to protect you. Only eight serving women and girls that you sent away on the next ship, dragging one by the hair to the ship because she refused to leave you. It was a noble gesture, but nobility could get you so far as to a an early grave. You knew your Lord would too coward to return with men at arms and greet Lord Cregan Greyjoy himself as he boasted in the council. So, you had chosen to do your a favour by sending them away before anyone could touch them. As for yourself? You didn’t think on it.

“Woman” a biting voice called. You rose your gaze and there was Lord Cregan Greyjoy, sitting in your lords chair and drinking from his golden cup. He was a tall, broad shouldered man, with brown hair he kept half up, deep grey eyes and sun-kissed clean shaven face. He was in leather and ring mail, with the kraken at his chest and a sword at his hip no different than his men, however, any fool with eyes and the wits of a fish could tell who commanded the room.

“Pour me ale”

You moved and poured with shaking hands. The rumors of the Lord Reaper of Pyke had never been far from your ear. The say he sips wine from the skull he keeps on his ship from enemies, they say likes blood better than wine and war better women. And women.. it happened you overheard from a whore house on how The Lord Reaper wanted his women face in the sheets with their rear up, or on their knees with sucking on his fingers, one even claimed a tore a chunk of flesh off her shoulder, and another claimed he made her pray while taking her under a heart tree. The sinful things you heard were appalling.

“M…” you swallowed. “My lord should be here soon”

He picked up the goblet, sharp grey eyes on you as he drained the cup. They had the patience of a wolf circling elk. Swallowing, you avoided his gaze. He set the goblet down.

“Your Lord came to me” he admitted. “He fell on the floor and licked my boot. I offered him my sword at his back. His head hangs upon the spikes of my ship, once it rots I shall drink wine from his skull”

That did not surprise you. Your Lord was a coward. You had known that the day you were given him as a governess to his children. Had you had not thought to sent every woman and child from here, what the iron born may done left you sickened. You were eyed as though you were more succulent than the fat honeyed turkey siting torn at the middle of the table. Only the Gods held them from ripping off your robes and taking you right here, that, and The Lord’s gaze.

“Then I pray you enjoy the treasures. The castle is filled with gold, my Lord. Take what you will and what pleases you”

“Your Lord promised me his castle filled with gold right after I took his head. But.. he also promised us the women of the castle. Serving girls, his own wife. All I see is Septa shaking like a rabbit. You will do, Come here”

The pitcher slammed on the floor as you bolted out of the hall, the door slamming behind you. You ran upstairs, lungs burning and heart hammering. The castle of your Lord had been made on an island, far from old town and Kings landing. It would be impossible for you to swim there. No footsteps pumped behind you, however you dared not stop. Pushing the massive door open, you slammed it shut then and locked the door, slumping against with a sigh.

Across you, the statue of the Maiden stared right through your soul. In the candle light, you could glistening, long trails beneath her eyes, it looks as though the statue were weeping. Lounging on your knees, you brought your hands in prayer and began praying.

“Maiden please, guide your servant that has served faithful, now and forever, let your protection be above me. Protect my virtue that I had promise to keep. Protect my-“

Heavy boots thudded on the floor. Echoing louder as they approach. You sobbed, and then kept praying. The footsteps stopped right behind the door. Your words trembled on your tongue.

One kick is all it took for the massive oak door to break. You forced your eyes closed as you kept praying, until a firm harm hauled you by the back of your robe, making you yelp as you pulled you into him.

“Your gods will not save septa. But keep praying, they’ll listen”

“Please” tears rolled down your cheeks. “No..”

He tore off your robe. You cried out, it echoed through mockingly. Your nipples tightened because of the cold air. The Lord Reaper leaned in and inhaled your scent making you shiver and weep more. His rougher hand squeezed your breast, thumb circling the nipple.

“Please” it came out as a sobb. “Please”

His rough thump wiped away a tear so gently it hurt. He smeared it on your bottom lip. You dared glance at him only to find him looking right at you.

“Begging won’t save you, girl” His breath warm against your face. With one arm, all of the candles were off the table. The face of the maiden vanished, and you were pushed with your face into the altar. The coldness bit into your skin. He held you pinned with one hand as the other slithered between your thighs.

“No!” You squirmed fruitlessly. “No, please, anything but that!” You gasped his fingers found your pearl beneath the hood of your womanhood. His finger dug into it making you jolt, “No. No please, I’m gods sworn!” You greeted your teeth when he grind his fingers against that spot.

“Greenlander Gods” he forced two fingers in, making you scream. “Even they know to stay out of when the drowned God hunger” ripping his fingers out, he unlaced his breeches. You felt the blunt head line against your entrance more tears rolled down.

“Please” the vows you had made your lips dry. You sobbed more when forced himself in, breaking your maidenhead on the altar of your gods. he grunted, his hand gripping your hair as he thrusted into you hard unyielding, using his weight to keep you pinned. Lord Greyjoy forced you to look at the maiden by the hair

“Pray to your Gods” he commanded. You wailed when he went deeper. “They already watch you bleed on my cock, prey septa or I’ll have my men take turns”

You whimpered, eyes shutting tight. But even if you couldn’t see, you could feel, you could hear. He grunts in your ear, his ring mail scraping your bare back. When you wouldn’t speak, his grip tightened you could feel tearing at the scalp.

“Please Smith, warrior, make this stop.” You choked up, his grip didn’t loosen. Neither had his thrusts. “Please mother, maiden, croone, father! Kill the iron born, make his heart stop!”

He barked a laugh, leaning in to bite your shoulder until bled. “The only thing that will stop tonight is your pious life. This cunt grips me as though to keep in me” he remained in you. “I’ll take you as my salt wife and you’ll give me son. If they turn weak out I will cut off your head” he went hard. Too exhausted, you slumped against the wood as he took what he wanted. You knew he was close when he went faster, then stayed buried in you with a groan before pulling out. You shivered in disgust as you felt something warm leak down your thigh.

Lord Greyjoy forced you up, then tossed you over his shoulders and marched with his new conquest down stairs.