THE WORLD IS OURS

New drawing I made instead of studying (help) I need that cookie SO bad

Sleep, Beauty

Tom Riddle x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, fem reader, manipulation?

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You had awoken to a bed without your husband, and went back to sleep with him beside you.

When you awoke, you found that the space on the bed next to you—where your husband’s sleeping body should be—empty. It wasn’t surprising, as Tom would often get up earlier than you to immerse himself in his personal studies of the Dark Arts.

He told you that he would like to be a Professor at Hogwarts, teaching about the subject, and you thought he was already more than capable enough of taking up the job. Tom has of course taught you a bit about the dark arts himself.

You squint, looking over at the small clock resting atop the bedside table. It was four in the morning. That was rather early.

Though you were tired, a curious spark lit up within you. What was your husband up to?

You shifted off of the bed, and quietly opened the door to leave your shared bedroom.

Voices from downstairs made their way to your ears. They were all male —perhaps two other men, not including Tom— and their voices sounded familiar.

What would anyone be doing here at such an hour, you wondered. Perhaps it was something important, an emergency. There was no other good reason!

You went back into your room, put on your robe, and then quietly made your way downstairs.

But, it was strange. Strange because when you made your way to the kitchen, there was only Tom, using his wand to clean some glass cups. (Tom has been teaching himself wandless magic, and has made a small habit of using it to do household chores. It at times has resulted in some broken glasses— though those are easily repairable with a flick of a wand. He must have been using his wand because he hadn’t wanted to accidentally break something, and wake you up from the sounds of glass breaking).

“Tom?” Your voice sounds deeper than usual, a result of just using your voice after sleeping.

He looked over at you, surprised. “You should be sleeping. Go back to bed,” Tom demanded, though his voice was as calm as a lullaby. “I’ll join you after I’m done cleaning up.”

You grabbed a cup that Tom just cleaned, filled it up with water, and gulped it all down in one fell swoop. After you finished, you placed the cup in the sink, so that Tom could clean it up again.

“I heard voices,” you said, watching him clean the last dish and place it in a cupboard.

Tom let out a small hum of approval. “Ah, yes. Malfoy, and Lestrange had come by to speak to me.” He took a step towards you. “Had we awoken you? If so, I’m sorry.”

“What were they here about?”

Tom grabbed your hand and pressed a small kiss to your palm. “Bed, Love. We’ll speak about this in the morning.”

“But it is morning time!” you whined, looking up at Tom.

He raised a dark brow. You were correct.

“You know what I mean.”

Tom pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the sink. He leaned down, and pressed a small kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck connect. He kissed up your neck until he made it to your jaw. Only then did he kiss your lips. He tasted bitter, though sweet as well, like a tart. Tom and his friends must have sipped on some wine while speaking about whatever Tom refused to tell you about at the moment.

The curiosity within you was slowly waning as one of your husband’s hands made their way to your waist, and the kiss got more intimate.

You pressed your head towards him, deepening the kiss, but he pulled away.

“I will not have you in the kitchen, if that's what you’re thinking,” Tom said, amused.

A scoff passed through your lips. “I was not.”

He grabbed one of your hands, encasing yours in his, and led you up the dark swirl of a staircase. A small feeling of excitement ran through your body at what was to come.

You entered the bedroom and Tom shut the door behind him, though only the pair of you lived in this house.

You crawled up the bed, and sat upright against the pillows, waiting for Tom to join you. As it was dark, you knew he had joined you once you felt a small dip on Tom’s side of the bed.

His hands tugged your robe off of you, and your nightgown was the next to go.

Tom gently pushed you, so that you were laying on your back.

He pressed a small kiss to your lips, though the hunger he had for you was radiating off of him.

“Be good for me.” A command that you’d always obey.

Tom made his way down your body, pressing kisses atop your body as he made his way lower.

Once he got to your breasts, he blew on one of the nipples, trying to harden it. Once it did, he took it into his warm mouth, gently sucking on the nub. Tom stimulated your other breast with his fingers.

Your back arched in response, and legs spread a little more, welcoming him in.

One of your hands clutched at his shoulder while the other grasped at the pale bedsheets.

Once Tom was satisfied, he gently bit at your nipple, before continuing to move downwards. He kissed down your stomach until he was finally faced with your vagina.

Like Tom did with your breast, he gently blew against your genitals. Your eyes fluttered, and your lower half pushed forwards against Tom’s face.

“Touch me. Please Tom,” You pleaded. Already, the mysteries of what Tom was planning with his friends had slipped out of our mind. Now, you could only focus on the pleasure he could give you. The pleasure you knew he would give you.

Tom kissed at your thighs, teasing you, but when he finally licked a stripe up your cunt, you wanted more.

Hands held down your hips to stop them from wiggling forwards. He dragged his tongue up and down your pussy, drinking in the fluid you produced—a show of your arousal.

You let out small moans, though they were replaced by a whine once he pulled his face away from you.

Instead, Tom used his finger to spread your slick across your vagina, before slowly inserting a finger into you.

Your eyes squinted shut, focusing on the feeling of his finger moving in and out of you.

Soon, another finger joined the first. He scissored his fingers, stretching you out to fit his cock in you.

His other hand focused on rubbing your clit, and before you knew it, you came. It was like a quiet storm. Your legs shook, and a thin sheen of sweat covered your body. Small, breathless moans escaped your mouth and were let out for Tom and yourself to hear.

Tom’s frame covered yours as he positioned his body over you.

“Do you think you can take one more?” Tom peppered kisses atop your shoulder.

You nodded. “Please. Yes.”

He smirked—though you could not see it— amused.

Tom was quick to rid himself of his clothing. He then grabbed his hard cock, and pressed it to your slit. Tom rubbed his hard cock against you, before inserting it in.

Your head fell back against the pillows, taking in the stretch. You lazily wrapped your legs around Tom’s waist.

Tom pulled out of you just to push right back in. He set a slow pace that he followed almost robotically.

Your eyes fell shut, focusing on how his cock filled you up perfectly. You were still sensitive from your last climax, though you could feel the next overcoming you.

Tom used one of his hands to stimulate your clit, and that’s when you break. White hot flashed through you, electric. You grasped at Tom’s shoulders, bringing him closer to you.

A small grunt escaped Tom’s mouth as he finished. His hips moved against yours a few more times before he was finally satisfied.

Tom quietly moved off of you, and tugged you towards him, so that your head lay on his chest.

“Go to sleep. I’ll clean you up.” He pressed a small kiss to your forehead, and did as Tom told you.

a/n: haven't written anything in a while😭 but decided to come back to a one-shot idea that I've had for a while now. I used this to also practice my smut writing skills as well😭 Comments are greatly appreciated and so are reblogs! Hope you enjoyed!

Tom Riddle Masterlist

I LOVE DAEMON <3 he's so silly

The shortest marriage tour

summary: requested; Your mother had decided that you must find a husband and so she set you out on a tour to go to the different regions of the kingdom and seek out a husband. Though nobody will approach you with your father looming not even two steps behind you. You fear there is no hope until you reach house blackwood and meet the only son of samwell blackwood.

fancast!benjicot blackwood x reader

w.c: 3.8k

c.w: fluff ! history of house blackwood (could be inaccurate based off wiki), crazy ben for like two seconds, father daemon, more fluff, not proofread

a.n: hbo you will never stop me from writing this man he may be dead to you but to me he is alive and well as my benjicot fancast !

benjicot taglist: @spider-stark

the carriage is silent. the only sounds are the wheels turning against the soil and the occasionally sounds fabric as the two of readjust in your seats.

It had only been the first stop and it had been awful. It was supposed to be a marriage tour, where you would meet every eligible man in the six kingdoms but it instead felt you a much too long father daughter trip. He breathed down your neck not a single man would approach you unless you, with your father not too far behind, approached them and even then it never went well.

You have no clue why your mother even allowed him to come, maybe she didnt he just forced himself on this trip. You had thought your brother jace would accompany you but you worried that might be even worse than daemon and you expressed that to your mother, you did not think that would mean your father would wiggle his way into leave dragonstone and trailing around westeros with you.

You look out the window and notice its dark, very dark out. You would certainly not make it to your next stop until morning. “I told you we should have just waited until the next morning.” You scoff and glare at him. “And have to watch for yet another evening as all those people shit themselves whenever you speak? i apologize for not wishing to stay.” “they were never going to shit them themselves, maybe pee a little.” “is that not the same?” “no shit is much worse.”

Your father sits up and knocks on the roof of the carriage. “What house is the closest to us now?” “House blackwood my prince.” Your father contemplates for a moment before he nods to himself. “then we shall head there, you shall run in and inform them of us staying for the night.” “Of course my prince.” you grip into the walls as the carriage harshly turns and glare at your fathers pleased look. “oh what now?” “you are annoying.” He laughs.

You knew next to nothing about the blackwoods other than their infamous hatred for the brackens. You cannot help but agree with them for when you once met one of the bracken men he had tried to hit on you and it did not go over well. You hoped tonight would be quick and easy so you can slip out easy in the morning and get on your marry way.

It is not that you wanted to marry some lord certainly not, you simply wished to return home and finding the first man to even so much as not make you grimace with every word he speaks will be good enough for you. Even if your visit home will be short lived as your sure a wedding is to come soon after and you would have to relocate to your forever home. The more you thought about it the sicker you got so you pushed down your thoughts as the carriage stops.

Your father walks out of the carriage and helps you out. You take a look around, there was so much greenery, a huge field of grass and when you take a couple steps closer you can see some barns out in the distance. The castle itself was much more impressive then you had been expecting, you find yourself unable to look away from the white branches of the weirwood tree. The guard ran back out to the two of you, “The blackwoods would be more than happy to host you.” “Of course they would.” You slap your father on the arm, “May you please be a little nicer this evening.” he pouts at you before strolling off towards the doors and you close your eyes and take a deep breath before you follow after him, hopeful he is not too much of a pain in your ass.

You are led in by a couple guards and you almost crash into a maid who is running by, she quickly apologizes to you before running away. “Why is everyone in a rush?” “Well when the fucking prince shows up and says he wishes to stay for the night well past the time any reasonable person would be awake whatever are they supposed to do.” your father flashes you a blank look but you just grin at him and continue moving about the hall until you are in the main room. .

You’re sure the older man is samwell blackwood lord of the house but the face that catches your attention is the boy standing next to him. He was very pretty, even in the darkness of the room you thought he was very handsome and cup your hands together in front of you as you look straight ahead with a small grin on your face. “Welcome, it is an honor to host you prince and princess.” You nod while you father merely looks around the room. Samwell gestures towards the boy next to him who meekly steps forward, “My son, benjicot.” The boy bows and his eyes find yours already looking at him and his face grows red, “Hello.” He scratches the back of his head as he lets out an awkward smile.

“What type of name is be-” your father does not get to finish his words as your heel slams down onto his foot and he curses as he turns around, leaning down to grab at his legs. You do not acknowledge him simply stepping forward while the two men look back and forth between you and daemon. “It is wonderful to meet you both. I apologize for my fathers sudden intrusion of your home,” You father turns back to hiss at you, “Did you have to do it with you heel?” You ignore him and continue to keep your eyes on the two men, “If only my father was a better planner.” “I think you cut off my toe.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Even if i did i would be doing you a favor your feet are horrendous.” “My feet are just fine.” “That is not what maid mary thinks. You had asked her to massage your feet one day and when she walked out of your chambers she gagged and held her hands far away from her as if she was holding horse shit.” You father looks at you horrified, “That is not true.” You shrug and chuckle to yourself as you think back on the day.

Samwell weakly laughs and claps his hands together before he speaks to you. “It is no issue princess do not fret. Please if there is anything i could do for either of you while you are here just let me know.” You can’t but glance at benjicot again and he is already looking at you. His eyes widen slightly as he sees you looking at him and he looks down at the ground, the tips of ears bright red. The grin on your face only grows, you wanted to talk to him but with your father by your side you are sure to not get anywhere.

“what about dinner?” you glare at your father, “do not listen to him it is far too late and he is terribly impolite,” samwell gestures to the maids who scurry off, “nonsense you must be starving, we shall cooking you up something.” An idea pops into your head and you grin to yourself. You look at your father who narrows his eyes at your face. “My father on the road was just telling me hes been dying for a good drink and a good drinking buddy.”

You slap your father on the back and he lets out a laugh as he tries to hide the confusion on his face. Samwell lights up at your words, “Well why dont we have a drink before dinner, our cellars are wonderful we have a dinning room just this way.” Daemon nods but he glares at you as he walks by and heads to samwell’s side who looks to benjicot, “Keep the princess company son.” Daemons eyes widen as he looks between the two of you, your plan becoming quite clear to him. Yet he gets the chance to say nothing as samwell basically drags him off and you send him away with a smile.

Letting out a sigh of relief you turn towards benjicot who smiles at you, “Gods i thought he would never leave.” He lets out an awkward laugh, unsure of what to say to you as you step closer to him. He rocks back and forth on his heels awkwardly but his eyes can seem to stray from your face for too long. You liked him you cant stop the real smile from growing on your face as you look at him.

You are however aware of the numerous eyes in the room that are on you, from maids to squires everyone is glancing at the two of you. “Could you show me around your lands? i know it is dark but i was so fascinated by it.” He eagerly nods, “Of course princess it would be an honor.” He offers you his arm and you take it, “Please call me something other than princess i cannot stand to hear it any longer.” “I could not princess.” You hum and bat your eyes at him and he turns away from you, “What about my lady then?” He smiles to himself and nods lightly. “If you say so, my lady.”

You like the way his words roll off his tongue too much and turn away from him as you feel your skin heat. The cools summer night air hits your skin and you admire the lands before you. You immediately stire the two of you to the weirwood tree and he chuckles. “i take it you like the weirwood tree my lady.” you look upon the crows resting on the tree in fascination. “not like i love it it is glorious. is there a reason they sit upon the tree?”

“not one that we know of my lady. they have been resting there every night for thousands of years now.” you hum as one of the ravens looks at you, you cant help your curiosity get the better of you ask you begin to ask him numerous questions about his family’s house, why had you never studied house blackwood before? “i thought weirwood was only in the north.” “house blackwood used to be in the north my lady until my ancestors were driven out of the wolfswood.”

“its fascinating. Does your family have any historical texts here?” He looks surprised at your question but nods, “of course my lady.” “will you allow me to borrow them? i shall return them of course.” its also an excuse to see you again. the words die on your tongue as much as your throat itches to release it. “You are free to keep them my lady.” “no no i could never.” he opens his mouth to argue but with a pointed look from you he turns away and his face grows red again. “Then you are free to borrow them my lady.”

You turn away from the tree pleased and the two of you walk out to the long field of grass, you look and see the small river that lines the land. Your eyes drift off to the windmill in the distance. The land was so peaceful with little firefly's lighting the land before you. “it’s beautiful.” “yes…” you turn to him and he is not looking at the view but his staring at you. you raise a brow at him, “you are not even looking at it.” a small smirk grows on his face, “i am actually. quite the view in front of me.”

You huff and turn away again your eyes catch the large rocks that draw a line between the two huge fields of grass. “is there a reason those rocks are there?” He stiffens and his voice is a lot more stiff when he speaks, “the other side is bracken land.” you tilt your head, “why do you not just, build a fence or something.” He laughs and shakes his head, “it is not so simply my lady, that requires material and funds we do not have.” “you have not brought it up with the king?” he shrugs, “my grandfather tried many years ago but they dismissed the matter to lord tully who turns a blind eye too it. pricks.” the last words is only muttered from his lips but you catch it anyway. “do you really need such a thing?” “maybe we would not if the brackens were not such-“ he stops himself as if remembering whos hes speaking to and composes himself, “They eat our grass, their cows”

You laugh out loud, so loudly you cover your mouth to hold in the sound. “it is no laughing matter my lady.” he says but he laughs while he speaks. You compose yourself and wipe your eye. “and what is the difference between the two grasses.” he looks at you as if you had said something scandalous, maybe you had. “our grass is much better than theres my lady.” “it does not look any different to me.”

He laughs but the smile slowly slips off his face as he continues to think. You take the moment to admire his face as he stares off into the distance, keeping every freckle and every mark in your memory. “they poisoned the tree.” you almost ask him what tree hes referring to until it clicks. “the weirwood tree.” He nods but does not look at you, continuing to glance out into the distance.

Everything suddenly makes sense, the generational rivalry stems from the tree. from the looks of it it looks as if the tree has been dead for a very long time. They hated them because they poisoned the weirwood tree.

“i shall bring it up with my grandsire.” he turns to you in confusion. “there shall be a wall built. I will see to it myself if i have to.” “you do not need to go to such lengths my lady-“ “consider it already done.”

you are already formulating in your head the letters you will send out to the tullys and your grandsire. Maybe it is better you see them in person, your father would not argue if you wish to head to house tully if anything you believe it to be a stop on your tour.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the two of you hold each others gaze for a while before he speaks. “you are very kind my lady.” His words are soft and you suddenly find yourself wanting to be closer to him if that was even possible. He eyes trail down to your lips and he looks back up at you.

The clanging of a bell suddenly snaps the two of you out of whatever trance you had been in and your head whip towards the castle. “dinner,,,” He turns to you and your stomach rumbles. You were not even thinking about food two seconds ago but he walks you back to the castle in silence and you cannot help but keep your mind on him.

He sits across from you at dinner though he does not eat anything while you sit next to your father who is as drunk as ever. Perfect. He was certainly not going to wake up until late into the afternoon especially since you would be going to bed late you even think he may not wake until the sun begins to set tomorrow.

You say nothing more to benjicot that night but the glances you steal say more than enough words.

You awake the next day much earlier than you had expected thought it is certainly still late normally you would be eating lunch by now. As if on que a maid walks into the room and brings you some lunch, you ask of your father and she states he still asleep, quickly shaking your head when she asks if you would like to wake him and tell her if anything nobody is to disturb him before being dismissed.

After lunch you roam around the halls a bit mindlessly looking for benjicot yet you happen to stumble upon his father instead who happily greets you. “good day lord blackwood, if you do not mind informing me where you son is?” A large knowing grin finds its way onto his face as he gestures outside. “he is out training princess. You should see him in the field.” You nod and say a quick goodbye before rushing outside. Samwell turns to one of his squires, “what did you say they were traveling around for again?” “the princesses marriage tour my lord.” samwell leans back into his seat, “well lets pray to the gods she likes my son.”

You find him rather quickly but freeze as you come upon him. You had no clue who the other boys were but you find yourself unable to take your eyes off benjicot. Was this truly the boy who could barely look you in the eye yesterday? He looked more like a rabid wolf, a feral grin on his face as he bested his peers with ease.

You have never seen a man act like him before and you liked it, maybe a little too much. Unable to stop the churning of your stomach as you can faint hear him laugh and it sounds a little sadistic. You should not be as, whatever you were feeling, right now as you are.

“i like him.” You jump as your father suddenly stands next to you and watches the boys with a devious grin. “what?” “pick that one i like him, he’ll fit right in.” You shakily laugh though the thought had crossed your mind in the couple hours youve been here more than once. “you’re crazy.”

The two of you stand in silence for a bit watching the boys practice but you cant even focus on them as your mind races. “would it truly be alright?” your father turns to you but you keep your gaze on benjicot. “if i picked him.”

a comforting hand is places on your shoulder “you are free to do whatever you wish to, it is your choice to make.”

One of the boys suddenly turns to you and his eyes widen as he quickly whispers in benjicot ear who whips around to look at you. “looks like weve been caught.”

The boys make their way over to you two and bow, “good day princess, my prince, we are so sorry we did not see you.” daemon laughs, “oh do not stop on our account please.”

You ignore your father and greet them anyway, you face hot from your earlier thoughts as you come face to face with benjicot. “good day benjicot and,, company?” The men at his sides introduce themselves as tully’s oscar and kermit, who you greet with a nod. “and please, call me ben, benny, benji, just not benjicot whatever you wish.” he stumbles over his words and you smile and let our a small laugh. “alright ben.” He smiles happily and kermit slaps his back causing ben to glare at him.

“does that offer extend to me or does it only apply to the pretty pretty princess.” Ben stumbles as he assures daemon he could do the same and daemon looks to you with raised brows pleased ben folds to his words, “i told you i like this one.” You roll your eyes as the three boys look amongst themselves with confusion but oscar grins.

You suddenly grow confident with you choices and turn back to walk into the castle, “i will be back.” The four men watch you walk away. Daemons smile grows on his face as he places a hand on benjicots shoulder. “good job boy.” Ben is more confused than ever but nods anyways and lets out a small thank you that ends with a question mark. Daemon suddenly starts asking him about his training and that easily distracts ben who spurs on about his youth.

You find samwell again rather easily who perks up at your arrival. “Did you need something princess?” He looks eager for your words, like he is on the edge of his seat but you do not notice. “would you accept if i asked for your sons hand?”

He quickly stands and you take a step back in surprise, “of course! yes yes i mean absolutely i would be more than happy for you to marry my son!” he grabs your hands and shakes your hand wildly. You did not think such a thing would be so simple as that and watch as he asks for a maid to fetch his son.

You cant help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this all. The way he was rambling off to his squire asking for letters to be sent out to his sister and the tullys. The way the maids can only watch this all go down in amazement. Benjicot soon comes into the room and is shocked when samwell walks over and grabs his face pressing a big kiss into his sons forehead. “what is going on?” You see your father walk into the room and he looks more than pleased as you roll your eyes at him.

samwell does not answer his son as he speaks, “i knew you were destined for greatness my son this is a joyous day. His eyes find yours and they widen as samwell walks off towards your father and the two of them begin discussing things you’re sure are about a wedding. “my lady?” you turn back to ben and smile at him. “i apologize for not asking you first but,,” you trail off and it suddenly clicks in his head. His face grows bright red and he opens and closes his mouth like a fish unable to speak. “my lady,,” His friends suddenly clap him on the back, “good work benny.” He looks down at the ground as a grin grows on his face and he looks back up at you.

“truly?” you shrug and walk closer to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “truly. if it pleases you.”

He laughs as if you had said the funniest joke, “it more than pleases me my lady.” you did not think this would truly go so well. What would your mother think? you had heard her tour lasted months and even then that was because she cut it short but you think she would be pleased knowing you had succeed in less than a months time.

MIND OVER MATTER.

+ . jacaerys velaryon x f!reader

part two to 'sacrifice'.

synopsis. you return to jacaerys. a gift from the gods.

3 + . contents. canon-divergent. no use of y/n or any variation. mentions of violence. heavy angst. no comfort. hurt. descriptions of torturous aftermaths. 3.2k words.

Warm firelight bathes the sharp and strong features of the prince, dark brows furrowed so tightly that the crease between them may become permanent. There’s a drowsiness in his eyelids and yet his mind is louder than the storm that rages outside of the stone walls. Shifting on his shoes, his strong hand fidgets and shifts along the smoothness of the hilt of his sword as he watches the flames burn at the wood and lick along the stone walls it’s confined to. Hand so tight along the smooth leather and grooves that he may just snap the hilt itself. In his other hand he gently smoothes his hand along a hairpin, pretty with a dangling flower off a chain of silver and made of glass. Jacaerys’s dark almond eyes slowly flutter shut and he inhales through his nose with a tight jaw, head throbbing and stomach feeling hollow.

It’s been two months.

Two months. Jacaerys hasn’t seen you in two months, he hasn’t heard a word in two months. Jacaerys swallows thickly as a stinging moves through his nose and his hand tightens around the hilt of his sword while the other eases around the glass hairpin. You should have returned to him already. You should have returned, come back to him so he might be stronger and less of a coward as he had so promised. So Jacaerys could do what he’d been too weak to do so many times before. Yet, it’s been two months. So much has happened and you’re still gone.

Heavy doors open and Jacaerys’s eyes open, broad shoulders stiffen and he blinks away the stinging in his eyes. Slowly, he straightens up and conceals the hairpin beneath his dark sleeve. Gentle footsteps and the soft brush of fabric against stone, Jacaerys listens to the footsteps of his mother and the sound of her setting down supper onto the table within his quarters. Jacaerys is wordless, he doesn’t look away from the flames. Silence is thick, heavy, he awaits her departure but he knows her, his mother. So, she never leaves.

Instead, she speaks.

“Please eat.”

And Jacaerys wishes she’d care less, then he’d feel less guilt over the ruin this is bringing him. The ruin of his affections and his…love may bring this war that he’s meant to be entirely focused on. Yet, all he can think about is you. You. You. Fucking you. In no response, Rhaenyra’s footsteps grow closer and Jacaerys looks away from the flames when his mother suddenly steps before him. Her hands reach out but his boots step back and his hilt is grasped even tighter.

“Mother.” Jacaerys says as a warning. He loves her. He doesn’t wish to snap at her or say things in harsh blindness as he’s been doing all too often during this war. Especially as of late. Jacaerys’s eyes screwed shut and he finally releases the hilt, his hand coming up when he makes the mistake of looking at her porcelain face of love and concern for her sweet boy. Grooves line the inside of his hand from the design of his hilt and his fingers shake, he’s so tense he’s trembling. “Please.” The word comes far less firm and stiff, it comes pathetic and desperate. Begging her to not break what he’s been so horribly holding together.

Rhaenyra’s brows sew up, her eyes flickering along the face of one stricken by grief before a death. The Queen exhales deeply as Jacaerys slowly lowers his hand and she presses her hands over her stomach. “My sweet boy…this–you cannot let what we do not know bring you to your knees.” Rhaenyra’s voice is soft, gentle and all the worse for Jacaerys. He tries to keep his burning gaze to the floor, but he weakens again in the atmosphere of his mother’s comfort and love. Dark eyes look at her beautiful light ones and his jaw tenses as she shakes her head. “We do not know of her fate, she would not wish to see you like this. I cannot bear to see you like this.”

“Like what?” Jacaerys asks as if he does not know.

“Like a shell of my boy.” Rhaenyra replies swiftly, her brows sewing up and eyes squinting in an almost pained way. Jacaerys swallows thickly, his hand running down his face as he turns away and slowly walks over to the supper. Thumbs smooth dark circles and sweep slightly sunken cheeks. Jacaerys’s eyes look at the food and his stomach curls in disgust, what if you’re starving somewhere? What if you’ve starved? “There are still loyalists seeking her, Jacaerys.” His mother tries with a soft tone, a gentle one as he picks up a piece of bread and holds it in the hand not occupied by the glass hair pin.

“Do you remember what I was like when we first met, mother?” Jacaerys speaks softly, quietly, his brows twitching as he holds the bread in his hand. Glancing at the Queen, Rhaenyra’s expression softens and the hint of a smile on her pink lips brings a hint to that of Jacaerys’s. But it makes his stomach all the more sick as he nods gently. “She has been my closest friend since I was a boy. She’s proved herself loyal to me, to you – to us since…since before there was a loyalty to be deserving of. I wish she weren’t such.” Jacaerys’s eyes screw shut and he swallows thickly. “I wish she would betray us, I wish she would stab me in the back, I hope and pray to the Gods that she were more selfish, more disloyal, dishonorable I–”

“Jacaerys.” Rhaenyra breathes out.

Jacaerys shakes his head and drops the bread crushed into crumbs along the plate. And he inhales shakily, he looks down and unsheathes the glass hair pin. That stinging in his eyes has grown worse, his vision blurring as the little glass flower gently sways off the chain. “L–Luce–” Jacaerys voice grows choked as he looks down and his vision blurs further. “H-He gave this to her. An expression of gratitude for all she did when we were still children. So many times I’ve tried to get her to wear it, Baela’s tried the same – after h–he…” Jacaerys trails off. “We stopped but…I still remember why she refused to wear it. She told me so confidently that she wanted to wear it for my coronation.” And Jacaerys inhales shakily, footsteps coming towards him.

The moment Rhaenyra’s hand touches his arm, Jacaerys sets the glass pin onto the table and embraces her with a choked sob. Rhaenyra holds him as she did not long ago in mourning her son and his brother. Jacaerys clings to her gown and shakes his head. “I could not stand it, m-mother – blood sheds in war but mine own and that of mine heart…two at once, for us…” Jacaerys sobs into her neck, his mother gently swaying him while holding him close as if he’s still just a little boy that needs his mother. Rhaenyra’s expression is one of pain as she holds him close.

For a while Jacaerys seeks comfort in his mother, then they talk about the recents events together – nothing too touchy, they are not privileged yet to truly and fully mourn – and Rhaenyra eats with Jacaerys.

It’s an hour and some later when the doors suddenly open, bursting practically. Jacaerys and Rhaenyra look at Baela, panting with wide eyes. “Baela, is all well?” Jacaerys asks with immediate worry.

Jacaerys nearly crumbles at the words to leave her lips.

“She has returned.”

It feels as if all the blood in his body is cold. It doesn’t feel as if Jacaerys is of his own mind or body – his soul and heart racing him down the corridors to follow Baela as Queen Rhaenyra leaves to notify Rhaena. Jacaerys is quick, dark curls bouncing and moving as he follows the sound of instructions tossed at sworn guards from the maester sworn to Rhaenyra. Cold winds from the open walls and windows bring an iciness to once warm skin, but Jacaerys can feel nothing. Nothing but an anticipation and overwhelming sense of fear of what he might face.

Quick hands catch Baela when the followerer to that of the maester extends his hand to stop Baela from grabbing the handle of the door. The guard shakes his head after a formal bow, his brow beaded in sweat and tan skin a bit red against the heavy armor he adorns. “Forgive me, your graces, but the maester has given strict instructions to not allow anyone within the chambers – her guard may be infected with a contagious fever.” Jacaerys’s eyes widen and he feels himself ease back into his body, he looks to Baela who silently urges him to cling onto some semblance of patience or hope.

But Jacaerys knows with fevers, death is always almost certain – and he must know of all that happened, he must see you one last time. He couldn’t say goodbye to Lucerys, he will not find his opportunity lost with you.

Jacaerys pulls back Baela with a gentle touch of her wrist and his dark eyes meet her rounded ones. “Oblige the instructions of the maester, no one shall enter.” Baela can see the resolve in his face and she inhales deeply, her brows sewing up as she nods and gently squeezes his hand holding her wrist before she steps away. Immediately, the prince turns to grab the door but the guard steps in front of it and Jacaerys looks at him with soft breaths and wide, incredulous eyes as the loud sound of servants in the chambers come through the heavy door.

“My prince, I cannot risk your–”

“I am the prince – you are sworn to my blood. Let. Me. Through.” Jacaerys’s voice is hard and thick as his eyes burn into the gaze of the guard. The guard, clearly taken aback, seems to hesitate. Jacaerys can feel him pondering whether he fears the heir or the Queen more, how would the Queen feel about her son possibly being exposed to a horrid fever? Jacaerys can’t seem to care. He doesn’t. And thankfully, he wins. The guard quickly steps aside. Jacaerys nods. “Thank you, Ser.” And Jacaerys enters the chambers untouched yet closest to the entrance of the castle.

The sound of the maester ordering the servants fills the air, the old man hunching over the bed and for the first time in two months, over eight weeks, over sixty days, one-thousand four-hundred and sixty hours, over five million seconds – Jacaerys’s eyes fall to you. His expression hard and his entire body going numb, a servant rushing to him to place a precautionary cloth around his face and Jacaerys merely allows it to happen as he watches you laid down and being tended to with a quickness.

Your face is filthy. Covered in smudge and dirt, hair the same and matted so severely that it’s being cut off. Beneath unconsciousness, being stripped of your dirtied clothes that were not the ones you left Dragonstone in, Jacaerys feels sick suddenly. Lashes cover your back, flesh risen and scabbing over with signs of infection in some green to match that of the bruises on your face and flesh. Jacaerys stumbles backwards, a hand going to his heart that feels it may just give out and he turns around.

Emptying the contents of his first true meal in two months into a glass vase, he screws his eyes shut as the scent of the dungeons burns into the room.

Soon, Jacaerys is given everything he must know while alongside his mother and cousins.

A guard of the Keep was assigned to watch you when you were discovered – you were stupid. You stupidly tried to help a woman being given a public lashing and what did you get? Recognized and imprisoned. It wasn’t enough to be imprisoned, plenty of the cunt usurper’s came to visit you but Jacaerys could hardly stomach the knowledge that Aegon saw to you the most. The guard to help you escape, unable to handle the cruelties of the usurper Aegon against a woman of honor and loyalty, recounted to Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Jacaerys all you had gone through in those two months.

Every horrid detail.

Jacaerys was nearly going to kill himself. To fly to King’s Landing and bring Aegon’s head to be the centerpiece of a grand feast. But it was during the loud chaos of attempting to keep the prince at bay that the guard offered something – something that was enough to make Jacaerys settle.

Your words. One of the long conversations you had with the guard, one conversation after a bad set of lashing that left you drooling and hunched over a bale of hay with your torn dress bloodied and dirty. The guard says he had asked you why you did not merely give Aegon what he wanted, why you did not tell them what the Queen was planning, why you did not kill yourself, why you did not agree to be the best sword beside that of the Kinslayer Aemond Targaryen. Jacaerys could hear your voice in his head rather than the guard’s when he offered your response.

“I know I will see him again…I could not look in his eye if I were to ever give these true bastards what they desire, so I will not. Because I know that someday…I will see my Jacaerys again.”

The maester had delivered the news of your condition. Needless to say it wasn’t well. Starved enough to keep you in agony yet fed enough to keep you alive, beaten more often than not, and used by more than just the usurper cunt and given moon tea so many times you are all but promised to never bare a child. But the maester said there was no fever, no flu – that the only thing anyone could do now is to wait. To wait and to not let the task be in vain, for a guard of the Keep that’d been close to the King was now in their palm.

But Jacaerys – try as he might – couldn’t care, not about being ordered to find rest and eat and every other thing he could not do and not about anything else. The next night, when all are silent and the guards are patrolling where they should, he went to your chambers. He had to see you.

Now here Jacaerys sits, at the edge of your bed and looking over you with tears falling down his cheeks and body stiff. You look ghostly. That warmth and brightness gone and replaced by a splash of hideous colors to be a reminder of what you faced. You’re more white bandages than skin. Jacaerys swallows thickly as he sniffles and shifts on the seat, shaking his head when a tear finally falls and he reaches out. Strong hands are gentle, treating your hand like the glass hair pin and cradling it between his hands. You’re cold yet sweaty.

Inhaling shakily, Jacaerys swallows thickly and he shakes his head. His eyes trace your features, your hair, and he forces a smile as hot tears roll down his cheeks. “You will go mad once you awake and see your hair.” Jacaerys whispers out softly. His thumb smoothes your knuckles and flesh of your hand. “Once, I hardly even cut an inch as a foolish little joke of a young boy trying to get the attention of a strong girl and you nearly made me bite my own heart with your punch.” He laughs softly, sniffling as he nods and looks down at your hand in his. “I must apologize as well for going through your things in your absence. I–wanted to find your hair pin, to keep it safe. It–is.” Jacaerys nods stiffly as his eyes trace hair choppy and cut, wet from the bed bath you’d been given.

“Oh and–I have already ordered a surplus of your fruit you so love.” Jacaerys nods, his eyes shooting back down to your hand. “I–whenever I fell ill you…you would bring me chocolates. You would not let me eat them though, no.” The prince swallows the lump in his throat that simply forms again as blurry vision trains on your hand. “No, you told me that the chocolates were to be my reason to get better sooner. You told me that if I could not get better, I would never taste chocolate again. Then you w-would jest and pretend to eat them when I–would refuse my medicine or the help of the maester. I think the chocolates were my remedy.” Jacaerys’s voice breaks off as his smile falters and shakes, his hands smoothing along your hand.

“Or perhaps you were my remedy.” He whispers quietly.

And Jacaerys looks at your face. The bruising along your face, the cuts, the bandaging and bandages – Jacaerys swallows thickly and he shakes his head with a hard and deep sniff.

“So, you m-must be quick. You must get better, lest the fruit rots. O-Or I will eat all of it. The crates of it. You m-must get better, you m–must awake please–please a-aw–” Jacaerys’s voice breaks off into chokes sobs, his head falling forward to press his forehead against your knuckles. The prince’s body shakes and jumps in pure agony and pain as he holds your hand. Kissing your knuckles and along the inners of your palms, up your fingertips, pleading and begging fills the air with his chokes sobs. “Wake up for me – do not leave me…d-do not–”

It’s sometime before Jacaerys finds slumber, head throbbing, eyes puffy, and throat aching as he slouches in slumber in the seat beside your bed. His hand holding yours, pinkies interlocked. Well, his with yours.

It’s his first full-night’s rest since your departure.

The prince slowly stirs sometime later, his brows twitching and his head foggy from the ache that comes with sobbing and crying for hours on end. In his head he can hear the soft sound of your voice calling him, the scent of medicinals and herbs staining his nose as he shifts his face on the surface of soft bedding. Hunched over now and asleep against the edge of his bed, his hand still feels your skin and Jacaerys fights consciousness. He fights consciousness to cling to his dreams of you being well and alive in his arms, not incapacitated and broken on a bed. Each mark is a remnant of what Jacaerys did to you, how he should have stopped you, done anything to prevent you leaving.

Waking up in his chambers, Jacaerys is slightly annoyed to have been moved from you but his neck and body is relieved. Sighing heavily and rubbing at his eyes, Jacaerys shifts to the edge of his bed and runs a hand over messy curls. Pondering over what he should bring you from your own quarters to make the unfamiliar room more comfortable for you, he stands and he makes his way over to his wardrobe for fresh clothes. Just in case you wake up. But the sound of his heavy doors opening stops him and he turns.

His eyes fall to Baela’s. His cousin holding bated breaths and in her hand a rolled letter, she swallows thickly and rapid blinks barely conceal the glassiness of her eyes. Jacaerys feels his heart sink to his shoes. "Cousin..." Baela breathes softly. "I--am so sorry."

Rest doesn’t come easy ever again for the young prince. And the fruit rots. Just as you did.

Dark! Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff! Reader

Tom Marvolo Riddle was hard to avoid especially when he is the one who wants you.

At Hogwarts, the Slytherin heir is what every girl wants in a boyfriend, handsome, intelligent and powerful.

The fact that he already has followers who worship the ground he walks on, made you realize that he is a red flag, therefore you made sure to avoid him.

I mean his followers terrorize muggle-borns and you have a feeling that Tom is associated with the forbidden type of dark arts.

Staying away from him is probably a good decision.

Unfortunately, Tom took an interest in you simply because you are a descendant of Merlin and Helga Hufflepuff.

You would always shy away from his flirtatious gazes and sweet spoken words which he is clearly trying to seduce you with.

At the beginning, he thought of you as a way to achieve his goal of getting the ancestral hufflepuff's cup, but Tom found himself attracted to you.

You are shy and kind but not silly.

However, you lack in your studies, a chance that Tom took as he convinced you that he could tutor you.

You were forced to accept his off after you were pressured by professor Slughorn.

When you received high grades on your exams, you started to trust the Slytherin heir.

But only as a friend.

However, that did not please Tom.

After all, he always got what he wanted whether it was by agreement or by force.

His foolish mother might have managed to get his father to marry her with a love potion.

But, Tom will use the imperius curse on you instead, a much more effective curse then some silly love potion.

All he has to do is wait after you both graduate just so he can control you fully.

"Tell me, (Y/n)...have you ever thought about marriage?"

Hello everyone 👋💔

Hope you are all well and healthy

❤️ We lost our house which cost us a lot and my aunt's house next door too but it doesn't matter to me because money can be replaced but the human soul is precious.

Please help us with a travel opportunity as soon as Rafah crossing opens 🙏🙏 for my elderly aunt who is besieged in northern Gaza Strip.

Please everyone who can donate do not hesitate and those who can't share the link with whoever can without problems, thank you everyone 🤍🤍

I'm so sorry

I'm very tired of this "queer college students should stop supporting Palestine, they'd kill you there!" I watched a hijabi ask a trans man, "but what name do you want to go by?" A butch giving a woman their hoodie so that she could keep her hair covered after the cops took her scarf. Muslim girls making sure the lesbian couple got through the system together. Religious men making sure purple haired protestors got out safe. I don't want to hear it. Solidarity forever, free Palestine.

teehee

hi nirvani!!

is it possible to have jareth dealing with a stressed out reader, and i mean like theyre sobbing into the bedsheets?

ive just had a really stressful week and id love some jareth comfort

thank you!!

big fan!!!

Jareth The Goblin King x Stressed!Reader

He rests your head on his lap, caressing your head, trying to get you to talk about what’s giving you so much stress.

“Darling, you can tell me what’s wrong.”

If you have a problem, he tries to help you fix it.

He does whatever you want to get you to relax/less stressed.

He’ll take you on a walk through the garden, his hand on your back.

Or if you just want to sit in bed, he’ll do just that with you.

He tries to make you laugh as well. Making fun of one of the goblins or even saying something silly about himself.

Current aesthetic : Desi women in paintings

Not my art