CONQUEST 08.08.25 send me a ko-fi
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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tannertan36
dirt enthusiast
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Not today Justin
cherry valley forever

ellievsbear
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER

Kiana Khansmith

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Keni

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@roziemutin
CONQUEST 08.08.25 send me a ko-fi

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a good soldier–a leal hound
aerion targaryen x commoner!reader headcanons
cw: mdni, 18+, afab!reader, power play? kinda angst?, obsession, stalking, toxic relationship, secret relationship
a/n: heavily procrastinated on this one for some reason. special thank you to @moonbeamoclock and @riverphoenixgirlfriend for inspo and support!! kissing yall
first part hcs
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♥︎ at this point, it is impossible to ignore how 'interested' the prince is in one of the servants, how focused he is on one special figure who is pouring wine for his dear father, how ridiculously bratty he gets when he hasn't touched or tasted her long enough
♥︎ it seems your secret rendezvous make him even greedier if that's even possible. aerion is insatiable, moved by the instincts and wishes of his spoiled heart, completely discarding logic or any common sense
♥︎ during the feast, he spills his drink on purpose when you are nearby with an ‘oops’ that is far from innocent, making you not only clean up the mess, kneeling at his feet, but also help him change from his, now stained in wine, clothes
♥︎ aerion is delighted by your fury, knowing how riled up you get when you are mad at him. it’s literally his personal fetish to see you being angry with him, while still obeying his every humiliating order in public, playing the role of the hardworking servant
♥︎ if you dare ignore him for more than five minutes, he will make sure to loudly curse you out in front of the people in the hall, because of something you did wrong. aerion will complain the dish is too cold, the wine tastes weird, the berries are not sweet enough, the meat is too dry, and mouth you off thoroughly, barely containing his jealos venom, daring you to defy him back
♥︎ he will never apologise afterwards, blaming you in forcing him to act this way because of your drifting gaze. aerion will sound so authoritative and convincing that you end up apologising yourself for not giving the prince enough attention in the first place
♥︎ as an unspoken rule, you sleep in his chambers, in his bed every night and other servants are forbidden to comment if they enter on you both tangled in bedsheets, him nuzzling your neck. aerion will never admit it’s because he sleeps better when you are in his arms, claiming it’s just “convenient” to have easy access to you
♥︎ you are tired and sleepy all day long because he is simply devouring you every night, expressing all the 'longing' he feels throughout the previous day when he can't see you. the prince demands 3 rounds minimum
♥︎ it seems his jealousy has gotten worse, if it's even possible, you may think he relaxes slightly after having you in his bed every night, but no, the greedy bastard glares at every suspicious figure who dares to distract your attention from him. throws tantrums at the smallest, stupidest of things and still refuses to acknowledge his ‘attachment’ to you explaining his jealousy as a “matter of royal pride, nothing more”
♥︎ aerion absolutely hates hates hates when you show affection, kindness or simply a smile to someone else. in his eyes, it is only natural and fair for you to keep all your charming features exclusively for him. aerion must be your everything. his blood boils because of the most innocent things, like you petting stray dogs, being kind to a child, complimenting some wench. he gets so ridiculously jealous and looks clinically insane. he is just so angry he feels powerless. and aerion truly hates being powerless
♥︎ aerion will grab you by the forearm in front of the whole courtyard, inventing a silly excuse for his anger, grabbing you by the chin, and mouthing you off for being "too fucking clumsy and almost bumping into him." no need to say such events always end up in angry, desperate, animalistic sex with you bent over the nearest surface and him mercilessly pounding you from behind, fucking all his fears and insecurities away
♥︎ occasionally, late at night, aerion stops being a dick and becomes the most charming creature you have ever seen, purring praises and compliments in your ear, while he plants kisses to your cheeks. in such moments he is the most vulnerable and precious thing in the world, you barely recognise your ruthless prince. all evil that is in him seems to be gone for now and suddenly he is just a man, laying his head on your thighs, nuzzling into your stomach and murmuring how much he loves having you beside him
♥︎ but most of the time he is literally the worst. aerion’s idea of showing affection is making you react and he doesn’t really care in which way it is expressing. it could be him making inappropriate comments out loud, or him humiliating you in front of other servants, or him harshly reminding you your place is beneath him, or him making you jealous by openly pointing out how extremely good looking are other women
♥︎ in aerion’s world, as long as your head and your heart is filled with stirring and swarming thoughts about him, no matter if it’s in hatred, or disgust, or sadness, or lust. he is secure, he is a winner, he will not be abandoned. as long as you scream at him back and cuss him the way no prince should be ever treated, as long as you slap his hand away from your body in irritation, as long as you grip the collar of his shirt and leave hickeys on his neck, as long as you silently cry at his cruel words, aerion is calm
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taglist: @valarrsgirl @avidreader73
𐔌 cw: almost public sex, fem reader .ᐟ
jaime rushed through the long corridor, tracking the frantic clatter of heels echo past pale red stone walls and flitting servants. his long coat hem flapped with a rapid, snapping cadence that matched the heavy thud his boots doubled, sword swaying sharply at his hip as he rounded the corner.
ungloved palm scraping against the rough stone surface, fair skin turning a sensitive pink, yet the sting didn't bother him in the slightest. breath escaping his open mouth in a hurried pant as a stray sunbeam caught the fabric of your dress skirt just as you swayed around another turn into a connecting corridor. still, he pressed on, refusing to lose his trail, almost elbowing a vase.
“lord's — jus' slow down and listen to me” he rasped, and you deliberately quickened your pace, but the effort was entirely futile against a man trained from his youth to wield a blade and lead men into battle. his strong hands clamped around your waist just as you attempted to break away, spinning your body around so suddenly that your feet slipped. mouth falling open in a gasp before your features twisted into a defiant scowl.
his annoyingly handsome face was right there in your space, lean chest heaving from the chase. cheekbones flushed a deep, ruddy red, and his thumbs dug firmly into your ribs. you writhed deliberately, trying to drive your heel into his boot while swinging your hand up to strike, only for your wrist to be caught instantly in the unyielding grip of his sword calloused palm.
“you said enough, jaime” you snapped, all hiss and bared teeth. his head tilted in response, palm catching your second wrist the moment you attempted another swing. with both your hands hoisted high and held fast in just one grip, he was free to lay his other hand against your hip. cupping the curve through the layers of your gown, pressing his body so close that you were driven back, cornered flat against the stone wall.
your spine straightened, and you shot him a fierce, venomous glare from beneath quivering eyelashes. a slow grin curled the very corner of his thin lips, stretching wide enough to expose a flash of a sharp canine. angular jaw shifting and cheekbones sharpening as his emerald eyes smoldered with a wicked amusement, drawing his brows into a lazy arch.
the hand on your hip sliding higher, sweeping across the waist and toward expanding chest before disappearing behind your back to find the delicate notch of your spine, digging in just enough to send a shudder through your entire figure.
— COLLECTOR :: SIMONRILEY X FEMALEREADER
— your obsessive patient took you, and you’re not entirely mad about it.
tags&warnings:: 18+, therapist!reader, patient!riley, Heavy non-con / dub-con, drugging, kidnapping, therapist-patient abuse, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome elements, self-pleasure while drugged, obsessive behaviour, dark psychological themes. italics are therapy entries, scribbled notes of the therapist written in her point of view. in no way this is praising or normalising any behaviour written—read at your own risk. drugging and kidnapping are not consensual. dead dove: do not eat. wordcount::3.2k.

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könig + torture
“zehn,”
könig + torture
“zehn,”
cw: taxidermy, mentions of blood, overall creepy i guess.
someone lost stumbles on the creaking threshold of simon's wooden cottage, burrowed deep within the looming shadows of scaly spruces and wind whipped mountains of snow, a place hidden from those who search it, a dwelling so desolated that even the birds avoid it, not a single chirp disturbing the heavy stillness, only a worn out cabin marked by a crooked fence and decaying steps, grim reminder of when guests might have been welcomed, stomping their boots down, before rot had squeezed its way into every forgotten nook.
he caught the scent before he saw the source, a strange sweetness buried beneath the acrid tang of terror, the kind a rabbit exudes before pissing itself, abandoning his work at the wobbling table with a heavy grunt, knife clattering dully as he set it aside, drawn by the metallic, rusty odor staining the porch, piquing a dull ache in his gums and restless throb in a jaw, door groaning on its hinges as it swung open, letting in the biting frost that nipped at his scarred, weather beaten cheeks.
there's massacre blooming upon the gossamer thin chemise that clung to your shivering frame, snapping violently in the howling, ear piercing wind, viscous blood had seeped through, leaving it's ruby taint against milky whiteness, a visceral stain of whatever had driven you here, barefoot on the snow dusted wooden planks, you left a trail of crimson footprints that vanished into the swaying trees, maybe something else, too, something beyond words, that simon could read in the frozen salt streaks on your cheeks, the tremor of your raw, bitten lip, and the dark gore crusted beneath your blunt fingernails.
simon's hollow, umber eyes locked onto yours, meeting the manic, wet shimmer of your own irises as they swirled with primal terror, but even so, he sensed it wasn’t his own disfigured, scar mapped face or the imposing breadth of his frame filling the doorway that terrified you, but whatever followed in the wake of your trail, feet moving, knees buckling, your slight form appearing no heavier than a feather to him as you strained toward his solid mass, trying to step closer.
chasing lulling warmth he emanates, the scent of firewood and aged leather that dulled your senses, masking the sharp, acidic chemical odor lurking just beneath other trails, clinging to the flesh, as with a slight incline of his head, his fair lashes swooping low over crinkling eyes, he stepped aside, the cabins dim, murky interior beckoning behind him, offering a wordless invitation he knew you were too desperate to refuse, already stumbling forward, sharp, teeth flashing grin stretching on his lips just for a split second you don't even catch.
you do not flinch as his touch comes, a broad, searing palm sweeping down the fragile curve of your spine, his calloused fingertips tracing the ridge of your vertebrae before settling dangerously low, just above the swell of your ass draped in thin cotton, he urges you forward, the heavy door closing with a final, muffled howl of the wind that seals the world and its terrors away, as your strength fails and you slump against his side.
simon’s thumb hooks beneath your chin to tilt your face upward, and there is only him now, the soft parting of his nicked lips as he murmurs a low coo, drawing your eyes away from the taxidermied trophies hanging on the walls, the glassy stares of prey animals watching you succumb to predator's paws, but there's no one else out there, and simon’s hands cradle you against his sinewy chest with a terrifying tenderness, a touch even gentler than the one he had practiced on the skinned rabbit waiting upon his workbench, abandoned due to your arrival.
main masterlist. quidelines.
MY SILVER FOX

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The video game screen trend but with Ghost! I love both versions :D
+Referenced parts of Brick lane for 2009 and Akihabara for 2022, Thank you google earth 🤣
—ONLY LOVERS LEFT ALIVE :: SIMONRILEY X FEMALEREADER
you’ve been sleeping for long enough, and he always noticed. maybe you’ll not only love the winter days anymore. or, after a mission that gets you missing and spent, you decide to give your ex another chance. then you’re warm again.
tags&warnings:: 18+ | Graphic violence, gore, murder, blood, decomposition, animal death, heavy psychological themes, trauma, rough aftercare, hand massaging, toxic but tender relationship, established past relationship, hopeless and traumatised female with a relatively more hopeful Simon Riley (about her). dubcon elements. dead dove do not eat. wordcount::3k.
Olivier Theyskens Spring 2002
MATTHIAS SCHOENAERTS as GABRIEL OAK Far From The Madding Crowd (2015) dir. Thomas Vinterberg Deleted Scene, "Smokey Caravan"

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— one bonnie and four clydes :: 141 x female reader
not one loyal dog, but four. 1k words. sexuality and death mentioned.