#and also girl. alice. you barely know him. why?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ophelieverse · 1 month

Note

I have an idea,Lia angel🪽can you please write Daemon x Hightower!reader where she is Otto youngest daughter and she is religious like Alicent and her father betrothed her to Daemon?Maybe with a little bit of 😏😏Thank you my angel🤍🤍

⊱ •There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

-Summary:In order to gain full power,Otto Hightower betrothed both of his daughters in the House of the Dragon.

-Warnings:Age gap,a little bit of smutty time,religious topics.

-Thank you for requesting and let me know what you think🫶🏻🩷

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The wind that caressed her bare back no longer carried with it that scent of saltiness that had weighed down her nostrils and kneaded her mouth,while sobs,wheans and bells had shaken her violently in following the ship and the wake of foam that moved away from the beach of Dragonstone and disappeared beyond the horizon.

It had become a pleasant breeze with floral and fruity hints,which rippled her skin filling her with chills,although Lady Y/n Hightower,youngest daughter of Otto Hightower the Hand of the King,was not cold.

She could not feel cold under the scorching sun of the island on which she had been abandoned by her family.Her father who gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and her older sister who cried silently with her,to be alone with her betrothed,the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, not when it was her own body that radiated heat,turning it on from the inside.

Maybe earlier,those days were her father gave her the information of his new plan.Before,perhaps,she had perceived the icy breath of what being married to a man like her future husband would mean,but now... Now those endless tears that had blinded her eyes and moistened her beautiful face had also dried.

«Father,Smith,Warrior,Mother,Maiden,Crone,Stranger.»Y/n whispers those names in her mind with her eyes closed,as if praying could purify her of what is happening to her body.

By the way Daemon hands creep under her nightgown and run through her skin,lingering on places she never dared to explore even on her own.Her hands instead she’ll the rosary of the Seven,to prevent herself from pushing him away or to bring him even closer.

Her whole body felt on fire,her immaculate skin was covered in goosebumps as the night sky engulfed her figure.Daemon had been waiting for her body,for her mind,soul and heart to be completely his.Maybe he suggested to Larys Strong to suggest to that cunt of her father to have her hand to him out of spite,maybe he did because Y/n had always been kind and gentle towards him unlike her father.

What he was certain of was that in that moment she looked like a holy figure,with her hair all sandy,her lips swollen,the skin of her jaw still covered in spit and wine.She looked like one of those gods that she loved tho pray and only now,taking in every inch of her body,he understood why people were religious.Why they needed something to turn to,someone to get on their knees for and chant their names.

Daemon wasn’t a religious person,but he liked to think that the gods had made Y/n just for him.

It was easy in the beginning,when it all started just to see Otto Hightower rage as the prince gave his younger daughter all those attentions.But after a short time,Daemon started to realize that there was something more that was pushing him to always look at her,to caress the back of her neck,to toy with her hair.

It was only when she told him that she prayed for him every night before going to sleep,that everything changed.No one has aver prayed for Daemon,maybe his brother had prayed him to change,but he never went down to his knees before his bed and asked to the gods to always protect him.

From that day he started to pay her more attention,to see the shy way she carried herself,always looking down at her feet,never saying anything without being asked.Always at her father side.She was wasted like this,such a young and beautiful girl that could bring the whole world to its knees to worship and cherish her just like the goddess she was.

When Daemon had caught the whispers of her father wanting to send her back to Old Town to become a Septa,he had to intervene.

He knew Y/n wouldn’t never gave herself to someone like him willingly,not without a promise.And so it was done,in less than a month they would’ve been husband and wife and he could have all the time to see her shine for who she really was,without the dark cloud of her father shadow on her.

Daemon wanted her to want him as he wanted her.Desperately.He wanted to make her shiver from his touch,he wanted to hear her voice breathless and shaky.Oh he wanted to hear her say his name like a prayer,like he was her new god.Full of devotion.

«You should stop crying,Y/n,am I hurting you?»Daemon murmured above her chest,his eyes not leaving the precious and untouched skin of her breast.

«T-that's not what I want.»she lied,her voice was weak and she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Daemon takes her nipples in his mouth,one at a time and she can’t stop them from becoming erect and turgid.Her mother made her believe that no one could suck her breasts except her children,that sex was only meant for child-bearing but right now Y/n feels anything but a mother and a pure virgin.She felt dirty,she felt like a whore,she felt good for the first time in her life.

«You are a liar.»her betrothed taunted her,his rosy lips were soft,his tongue warm and wet made her thighs clench.

«Father,Smith,Warrior.»she whispered again,one of her hands was now grasping at Daemon long silver hair as he groaned.

Y/n dwells on those figures with a hint of fear,aware that none of them will come to save her now.Not her father who sold her to the Rogue Prince in marriage.Not the warrior,her sworn protector,that was waiting at the castle for Daemon to be done with her before escorting her to her maidens.In the absence of the smith,her father trusted a demon,Larys Strong,and his advices to strength Alicent oldest son claim to the throne by forging their union just to have Daemon on their side against Rhaenyra when war will come.

«You want this.You want me.»Daemon said looking up at her with lustfull eyes,releasing her nipples.

Y/n face was burning red,her lips were quivering with soft prayers«You should s-stop.»she pleaded.

He was still holding her,his fingers felt like pure fire on her ribs.He kissed his way down from under her breast,savoring the sweet perfume of strawberries and the clean and sinful taste of her immaculate skin.

«Stop where?Here?»he asked,he bit and sucked right under her ribcage making her gasp.

His hands were hiking up the gown of her white nightgown,the smooth and silky texture of her bare legs made his head spin.

«Daemon.»she called for him breathlessly.

«What do you want?Tell me,my beautiful princess.»he whispered.

She tries to stay motionless like a statue,but her body trembles,quivers,while he puts a finger in her and then a second, making her find her more wet than she would have liked.

Her language pronounces aloud the names of the Seven,to prevent herself from yelling at him to stop or to keep going forever.

«You want all this, you want me.»he reminds her,taking in all of her beauty.

«How could I?You're a horrible man.»

She spreads her legs wide and feels him rubbing the tip of his manhood erected against her opening without daring to enter yet,and she hates herself for how reflexively she pushes her pelvis against him,for how she widens her legs even more.

«Maybe you're horrible too.»

Y/n head was spinning and it was difficult to remember how that change had happened,how she had started crying at the betrayal of her family when shortly before she had found herself aching for him,for the man above her as the most unfortunate of disasters;nor how she had come to grasp with her lips a pasty and strong flavor, capable of awakening every sense,capable of awakening in her new desires and instilling new life in her.

When Daemon had walked her to a secret area on the beach of Dragonstone and eased her thirst with the most intense,tasteful wine of the known world she had found herself on her knees for him.Till a week before she used to lift her gowns and get down only to pray her gods,now she was doing for the man that her father had raised her to despise and she loved it more than the gods her mother had taught her to worship.

Then she had found herself laying on the cold and wet sand,Daemon on her like a beast on the pray.

Y/n followed with her tongue the route of a thick drop and found a small bump in her mouth.She enclosed it inside and sucked so as not to disperse any of the spicy notes of that purple liquid.The fingers that had played with his long moon hair tightened their grip in a tacit warning and she chased another trail finding herself flattening her tongue on solid muscles,provoking them with the tip to make them contract and relax to their liking.She sucked in other stylls and bit the skin she found underneath to memorize its texture and remember how even the salty of the sweat could turn into sugar.

She knew that the gift,which was dripping from that chest and which had been offered to her so generously, was not to be wasted and she would savor it greedily.

«Good princess.»Daemon had praised her,his eyes,of the same color of the wine,capturing her every movement.

Y/n blinked and the blurred view allowed her to admire the work of a skilled sculptor.The advent of the chest she was worshipping,stained with other droplets waiting for her passage,caused a wave of desire in her belly.Those paths she was entering would soon lead her to the place where she would finally find peace and a new pang of anticipation caught her unprepared.

She strove to bring back to mind how she ended up like this,on her knees for him.A man with the blood of the dragon in his veins,a man who was undoubtedly a deity:he had dazzled her with an estatic vision of immortal creatures singing and dancing,so colorful and lively that he enchanted and chained her to them.And that drink she had tasted first from his cup,then from his hands and, finally,from the rest of his limbs.

Y/n kneeling between the sea and the rocks, looked up at him eyes and,all of a sudden,she didn't care about anything anymore.Her pupils burned,foamed like the liquid she was collecting,and rested her soul.

Then she had found herself underneath him and somehow,she also founded the strength to pray for forgiveness.For the person she was about to become,for the person she was letting him create.

Maybe she was horrible too.

«I want to be.»she whimpered against his mouth«I want to be just like you.»she pleaded,scratching down his back,the rosary long forgotten on the cold sand.

Mother,Maiden,Crone.

Y/n turns to those names but without really praying to them:she thinks of the Mother,the one that she had lost,the one that she had watched her sister turn into and who is the only definition their father had imposed on both of them,of the Maiden who she is no longer,of the Crone who she does not want to be yet.

And never,never,never like right now she was just Y/n,a woman,as she feels the member of Daemon finally slip into her to its entire length.The intrusion snatches a cry of surprise from her,but even though it’s the first time she feels no pain and she is amazed.

Her lips opens immediately when Daemon one’s looks for hers,his tongue caressing hers slowly as his arms brings her impossible closer to him,almost as he wanted to be one with her.

«Tell me that you are mine,Y/n.Not your father,but mine.»Daemon sounded desperate,moving in and out of her at a languid pace to savor more of the gentle creature he was corrupting.

«I’m yours.»she immediately answered him with a little moan«And you are mine?»she still had that white innocence in her that made him fall in love with her.

«Soon we will be one under the blessing of the Seven.You are mine and i’m yours.»he promised her and she believes him,he’s her new god,one that was created only for her to worship just like he worship her.

Daemon enters and leaves her at an increasingly rapid pace,sinking more forcefully at the end of that provocation;it should be a punishment, perhaps,it is instead for Y/n is a relief.It’s not a torture,not when he fills her,but the emptiness he leaves when all of this will end.She hates how her body does not consider that as a shameful act,making love before being married on the beach,a humiliation,as,in spite of everything,even her mind recognizes that disgract on his virtue infinitely more pleasant than the honest marital duty that her sister had told her about.

Stranger.Stranger.Stranger.

There is no other god left,as she opens her eyes and feels lost in her own release that hits her like the waves that crush on the shore.Daemon is not far behind her,his lilac eyes shining in hers as he empties himself in her.

Y/n surrenders to him,to the only true Stranger she knows,and thinks that after all she could also die in that moment,because she is dying less now than she died for all her life.Because being with Daemon couldn’t be worse than being with her father,because the unprecedented heat that explodes inside her suddenly can be nothing more than death itself.

She opens her lips and Daemon is the only name she outrageously prays as she opens her hands to hold him now to herself,to draw him closer instead of pushing him back,while he sinks for one last time.

The rosary breaks and the beads fall to the sand,like the gods it represent.

«I’m sorry.»he says.

«Everything is alright.»she says back.

Daemon lays on her and begins to caress her with an unexpected and inconsistent sweetness,like that remorse to which she gives voice,but which she understands after all.He would not have been able to ask for all this without offering her father to marry his daughter,because,in any case,if he had only asked for a fun night together she would have said no.

But now of her rabid cruelty nothing remains but a painful fragility;he is a god who falls too,a god who bows to her.It's ironic how she almost feels obliged to console him,to thank him for taking her away from her father hands.

«Thank you,my prince.»Y/n whispered.

Deamon closed his eyes,laying on her bare chest and enjoying the warmth of her skin«You're the only beautiful thing I will ever have,Y/n.I will make you a happy wife.»and he sounded sincere,she believed him.

Father,Smith,Warrior,Mother,Maiden,Crone,Stranger.

She no longer worships the gods now,because they are cruel,those who brand such a sweet pleasure as a sin.

She doesn't think about the gods anymore,Y/n, because now she knows what it means to be human.

There is no longer any god,not after the Hour of the owl,when Daemon gives unconditional whispers,love and mercy.Because he no longer needs blackmail as a pretext and Y/n no longer has religious images to hide behind.It was only them now,to believe in and to love.

«I love you.»he says

«I love you too.»she says back.

626 notes · View notes

xetswan · 4 months

Text

IMAGINES- Jasper x reader

My Star

(This was requested months ago and I’m so sorry I’m just now putting this out 😭)

Twilight Masterlist

In which Jasper lost his “Star” before turning into a vampire and years later spots her with his new vegetarian family.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Carlisle asked Jasper whose eyes were widened already trying to control his thirst around all the humans.

He nodded his head.

Edward and Emmett stood on either side of him.

“If it gets too much let one of us know.” Alice stood in front of Jasper with a sweet smile on her face.

The family thought Alice and Jasper would end up together due to how much he trusted her but Alice knew she wasn’t the one for him.

He mourned for his lover before them.

Before turning.

She knew that was the only woman for him.

And he was glad she understand, not having to speak on it. The pain was too much for him to bare so he kept silent about it.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiles down at the girl, his hands laid behind him, clasped together.

“Alright, you got this.” She nods at him, getting out of their way and the three men enter together. The rest of the family behind them.

As they entered the loud building the energy switched.

Jasper focused on the music that played, watching the girls that kicked their feet and played with the bottoms of their dresses as they danced.

The men that encourage them, cheering them on.

He scanned the room, observing.

“I want to dance.” Rosalie stated behind them.

“Let’s dance then baby!” Emmett boomed.

Edward furrowed his brows trying to remind them of why they were here.

Alice placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let them have fun.” She nods her head to assure him.

Edward makes eye contact with Carlisle who also allows it, taking Esme’s hand and taking her to dance.

He scoffs, staying sternly next to Jasper.

Jasper still scanned the room, not paying attention to his new family. Alice joined Jasper’s other side and took his hand.

“Want to try to dance too?” She had a lot of hope and confidence in him.

Something he could say the same for.

The blood burning his nose as he tried his hardest to hold it in.

“I don’t know, honestly.” He answers her, his nose flaring but he tries to hold it in.

“You got this, trust me.” She pulls him onto the dance floor as well.

Alice begins to twist her hips, following the rhythm of the music.

“C’mon!” She encourages, now kicking her feet and moving his arms for him.

“I don’t know how to dance.” He begins to smile.

“Just follow my lead.” She gets more into and he finally follows suit, the burning in his nose still there but she distracts him from it.

Edward still stood there, solemnly.

Watching Jasper’s every move, making sure he doesn’t get caught up and switch like a light.

As Jasper dances, he glances around again.

A shine of a light flashes on a man and he stares at the guy for a little bit before moving alone onto the next thing.

This time his eyes spot a lady.

A lady who looks oddly familiar.

Her hair bouncing as she dances and laughs.

Time freezes for him. Alice notices his change in posture. His moves slow down.

“Jasper?” She turns to see what he’s looking at. Edward comes up to them, pulling them off the dance floor.

“What happened?” Edward aggressively questions.

“I- I don’t know.” Alice stammers, Jasper’s eyes don’t leave the girl he saw.

“Jasper, what’s going on?” Edward grabs onto the mans shoulders.

“I see her.” Is all that leaves his lips.

“See who?” Alice asks, gently pushing Edward out of the way.

“My star.” He whispers, shoving past Alice and Edward, the girl left the dance floor and to the bar.

He stays feet away but watch her every movement just like Edward was doing to him.

But for him, he was trying to see if it’s true.

If it’s his star. As she got her drink, Edward grabs onto him once again.

“Jasper, you can’t do that.” Glaring at the man who doesn’t seem to be there. Not paying attention to his “brother.”

She’s on the move once again, a man beside her this time. She’s flirting with him and Jasper feels a pang in his chest.

She laugh and he hears it for a split second. That’s how he knew, it’s her.

It’s his star.

She grabs onto the man’s shirt that she’s flirting with and guides him outside into the back of the building. Jasper realizes he needs to get Edward off of his back.

He looks around trying to find something to do so. Alice watches Jasper’s movements and then she gets a vision.

Holding onto the wall once it’s over.

She grins and goes over to Edward.

“Eddie!” She laughs vibrantly, grabbing onto the boy and spinning him around. “Please dance with me!” She then spins herself with his hand. “Alice, now’s not the time.”

“When ever is there a time, Edward.” She pouts, then glances at Jasper and widens her eyes, telling him to go as she distracts the boy.

He mouths a “thank you” before rushing off. Following who he believes is his lover.

He exits the building, now being quiet.

He looks around for her. Not spotting her as the wind blows in the air. The moon shining down on him and the body of water ahead.

He takes a few steps out, he hears some noises of a man whimpering, gargling his own blood.

The blood smell fills Jasper’s nostrils.

He feels enticed by it, his body moving slowly towards the dying body feet away from him. It’s the man that she came out with.

It’s the same man from before.

And before he can get any closer his body flies to the ground with a thud. Someone pinning him down. “Who are you?” A voice questions, shoving him further into the ground.

The lady not getting a look at him.

He grunts, trying to fight her off. Slowly he stops fighting, trying to get a good look at her face.

“My star.” He huffs out, his hands laid next to him and her strength weakens on him. Pulling her hands back.

“Jasper?” Her voice breaks, this time he flips them over and pins her down. Not harshly.

She laughs loudly.

“My Jasper!” She squeals, not able to do anything but she kicks her feet to the ground as he stares down at her with a grin.

“[Name], I thought you were dead.” He tells her, observing every feature upon her face.

“I thought you were dead.” She lifts her head up to tell him. He lets her arms go but still straddles her waist, slightly hovering above her though.

“You’re one of them too?” He notices the blood that drips from her mouth.

“I was turned after you left, they invaded our home.” She informs him, leaning up on her elbows. He closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“I should’ve been with you.” He mentally beats himself up.

“Hey! Who’s back here?!” A voice shouts and the two scramble up. Jasper grabs her hand, yanking her away from the scene. They hide behind a vehicle as a sheriff flashes a light around the area they were just at.

He finds the body and gasps. [Name] giggles to herself, watching from the window of the car.

She looks down at Jasper with a smile, gripping his hand and she guides him to the lake in a fast movement.

“You eat humans?” He suddenly asks her. She furrows her brows. “What else would I eat, darling?” She bends down, cleaning the blood off of her face. Luckily none of it got onto her dress.

“Animals.” He responds in a quiet tone.

“Your family’s one of the vegetarians?” She sat on her knees but turned her body to his direction.

“Your’s isn’t?” He tilts his head.

“I don’t have one. I’ve been alone since they killed everyone in our village.” She hums, playing with the water.

“Everyone?” He repeats.

She then realizes how insensitive she sounds, that was his family too. “The Volturi, since everyone grew in havoc they deemed us dead. No hope for any of us to be civil enough to live out in the world.” She thinks back to her memories of when it all happened, the fire.

“I escaped without anyone realizing. I’ve been on the run for a while.” She stands up.

“Before the village was turned they told me you died. I had no reason of living. But then I was turned and I couldn’t even kill myself. It was tragic.” She places a hand on his cheek, rubbing it gently.

“Did you ever return home?” She goes to take her hand back but he grabs it, keeping it on his face. Cradling her hand.

“No, she told me you were dead and I couldn’t bare to see your name on a grave.” He spoke softly.

“She?” She furrows her brows.

“Maria. She turned me. Made me her personal soldier after she told me you were dead.” He closes his eyes trying to fight back the memory of him falling to his knees when he found out his star was dead.

“I’ll kill her.” Venom laces in [Name]’s voice but Jasper chuckles.

“She’s dead, my Star.” He shakes his head.

“Good, she’ll never experience my torture.” She half-jokes. Knowing there’s some truth to it.

“Never leave my side again.” He kisses her hand, pulling her into his arms.

“Never again.” She agrees, laying her head on his chest. It was cut off by yelling.

“Jasper!” His siblings were looking for him, he grabbed [Name], holding her close to him as the family found the man.

“Who is this?” Rosalie was the first to question. Esme held Carlisle’s hand. Alice clapped her hands.

“It’s her!” She grinned. Jasper gave the shorter girl an earnest smile.

“Her?” Rosalie gave a dirty look, still confused. “It’s [Name], his passed lover.” Carlisle announces.

Edward then lets it all hit him.

That’s why he was acting weird in the building. Relief also hits him when he doesn’t see blood all over him. Just a little on the girl next to him.

713 notes · View notes

kiiwiigii · 7 months

Text

Table Sex

Emmett x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Emmett make the most of your alone time... unfortunately for Esme's table.

Warnings:

NSFW 18+

Smut

Cuteness

Word Count: 1.7k+

Requested?: For Kinktober!

Playful and happy table sex with Emmet like it'd be so sweet but also definitely result in a broke table 🤣

A/N: That poor, poor table.

I gave a small shriek as I did my best to out maneuver Emmett, which considering how big and burly he was, wasn't all that hard. However, he did have the advantage of speed, which I sorely lacked. I was only human after all. It wasn't long before I felt his giant hands catch me around the middle, swinging me around in a backwards bear hug.

"Okay! Okay! I give!" I giggled.

He twisted me around, lifting me up by my bum as I wrapped my legs around his waist and draped my arms around his neck.

"I told you that you couldn't escape from me." He grinned up at me, nudging my chin with his nose. "Now, what's my prize."

He gave my buns a little squeeze and I wriggled and gasped, pretending to be scandalized.

"Why Mr. Cullen! What makes you think you win anything?"

"Ooh, Mr. Cullen. I like the sound of that." He wriggled his eyebrows at me, to which I just rolled my eyes.

"You know what I like the sound of? Freedom. Now put me down, you heathen."

"Not till you tell me what my prize is."

I looked into his golden eyes, doing my best not to become mesmerized, a battle I was quickly loosing.

"Me." I sniffed, looking away rather snootily and trying not to smile. "What else would you need?"

"Perfect."

He was practically purring and my heart leaped a little in my chest. That purr usually signaled some rather… intimate activities and I looked back at Emmett with narrowed eyes.

"Emmett." I warned.

"Yes?" He replied innocently as he began to walk toward the dining room.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that everyone else is out hunting for the weekend." He began. "And I have my beautiful girl all to myself. Completely alone."

Emmett sat me down on the dining room table, keeping himself wedged between my legs as he wove his hands into my hair and tilted my head back to kiss me. I giggled, letting my hands drop down from his neck to grasp at his shirt. Which I would very much like to see gone. As if reading my mind, Emmett broke the kiss and leaned back for a moment, swiftly removing his shirt. I barely had time to admire his muscled torso before he swooped back in and kissed me again.

His cool tongue swept across my bottom lip before delving into the heat of my mouth, and I couldn't help the moan that bubbled up from inside me. I could feel him grin against my lips, giving me a playful nip. I let my hands wander across his rock hard skin, the iciness sending goosebumps through my body, my nipples tightening and begging for attention. Emmett's hands cupped my neck, his thumbs stroking across my jaw softly before exploring further downwards and cupping my breasts.

I sucked in a breath, whining a little as he gave my nipples a light pinch through the fabric of my shirt and bra.

"I think you are wearing far too many clothes, Y/N." He whispered, nipping at my ear.

"Funny," I breathed. "I was thinking the same of you."

"Hands up, baby. Before I rip your shirt off you."

"You wouldn't dare."

There was a sudden tearing sound, and my mouth popped open to see that my shirt had been ripped right open, exposing my rather lacy bra. Emmett eyed my chest greedily, licking his lips. I just glared up at him as he went to grope my breasts.

"You know Alice is gonna kill you right?"

Emmett stopped, his hands in midair as his eyes went wide in horror.

"I… I obviously did not think this through."

"No. No you did not."

"Maybe I should start running now." He smirked.

"Don't. You. Dare." I hissed at him, grabbing him by the neck so he was eye level with me once more. "You're going to finish what you started. And then you can fuck off into the wild blue yonder, and if you're lucky, you might avoid Alice's wrath."

Emmett snorted, bringing me in for a soft kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby."

He kissed me deeply, his hands slowly peeling off my shredded top and my bra following along with it. His icy hands kneading my warm flesh before pinching and rolling my nipples between his fingers. I let out a small gasp, my head falling back to expose my neck, which Emmett took full advantage of, his lips latching on and sucking. There would be bruising hickeys there in the morning, and I was certain Emmett was purposely leaving them in places where they could easily be seen.

I dug my nails into his skin softly, and suddenly I wished I was already a vampire, just so I could leave marks along his back, laying my own claim.

I felt his hands finally trail their way to other areas, one around my back and the other to cup my soaked mound through my shorts, rubbing me rather harshly with his thumb. He then kissed his way down my neck, licking and nipping until he found my nipple, sucking it into his mouth with one long swift move.

I gasped, my back arching of its own accord, silently willing Emmett to touch me more. His hand continued to rub my mound, my clit getting just the slightest bit of stimulation from the combination of the jean material and the lace of my panties rubbing against it.

"Fuck." I moaned, threading my fingers through Emmet's hair, letting my hips begin to gyrate against his hand.

Emmett groaned, biting my nipple gently before pulling back and holding his fingers to my mouth. I took them without a second thought, eyes widening when I tasted my arousal on them. I had soaked through not only my panties but my shorts as well. His eyes darkened.

"I don't think I can wait much longer, love." His voice had gone husky with need.

"Then don't," I replied, my tongue snaking out between his fingers.

Emmett growled, lifting my ass off the table and pulling my shorts and panties off swiftly, followed by his own pants and boxers. My eyes widened at the sight of him, hard and erect, just for me. He lifted my legs, pulling me right to the edge of the table. He didn't even bother trying to stretch me out before the home run. He simply slid right into me, and I gasped at the sudden intrusion.

"Emmett!" I groaned, my head falling forward onto his chest.

"Sorry, babe. I can't help it."

"Bullsh-"

I yelped as he thrust into me, setting a pace that was fast and hard. Just the way I liked it. I let out a little gasp with every thrust, the very tip of his cock brushing along that sweet spot that had me seeing stars. Before I could comprehend what was happening, Emmett had me flat on my back against the table, and he leaned all the way forward to nip at my lips and jaw. I shuddered beneath him, letting out a ragged moan as the new position caused the heat in my belly to coil, tighter and tighter with each thrust.

Emmett's hands were everywhere, stroking along my thighs, reaching to pinch and pull at my nipples, and even one hand finding its way to the juncture between my legs, rubbing and swirling around my clit, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my pussy.

I could feel something happening, something building up inside of me and I couldn't hold back the moan when it finally crested. My pussy clamped down on Emmett's cock, grinding down on it as I let the orgasm hit me full force, my body shaking with the intensity of wave after wave of pleasure.

"That's it, baby." He breathed, eyes darkening. "Keep coming for me."

"Emmett." I whined.

My body was almost electric as he continued to pump into me and I could already feel the coil beginning to tighten up again, the warmth turning into an almost unbearable heat as he continued to hit my sweet spot. I panted, pulling his lips to mine.

Emmett's next thrusts were almost brutal, slamming me down onto the table and driving himself even deeper into me.

"Fuck!"

The coil snapped again, and this time Emmett came with me, the coolness of his seed bathing my walls and dripping out of me. Suddenly Emmett was catching himself before he collapsed on top of me.

We both paused, breathing hard, and in that moment we both heard a rather ominous creaking. Emmett had just enough time for his eyes to widen before the poor table collapsed from underneath us, sending us both crashing to the floor, him still buried inside me.

For a moment we were too stunned to move.

And then the laughter set in.

I was honestly surprised it hadn't collapsed sooner.

I was completely red with embarrassment but I couldn't stop giggling. Emmett slid out of me and picked me up, careful of the debris and my delicate skin. He held me in his arms, chuckling as he assessed the damage. The table was completely ruined beyond repair, only halfway standing on the other two legs that hadn't given way to our rather… rigorous love-making.

I finally calmed down a little, my cheeks hurting from the silly grin on my face.

"Forget Alice. Esme is gonna skin you alive."

Emmett immediately stopped laughing, looking at the table with wide eyes.

"Fuck."

Suddenly I was standing alone in the dining room, and not even a second later a fully dressed Emmett was back and helping me dress in some of his clothes, since you know, he ripped mine. I spotted the suitcase next to the door and looked up at Emmett quizzically after he helped me into on of his shirts.

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Yeah." He muttered, genuine fear in his eyes.

I raised my brow at him.

"Esme would actually skin me alive and I'd rather not experience it."

Emmett started ushering me out to his Jeep and I just stared at him.

"You're at least gonna clean it up right?"

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @alecvolturiswifeforever @belladonna-xox @hyperuseless @jana-jaeynneee @itsmytimetoodream @lack-lust-3r @lucansmina @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @targaryenmoony @twilightlover2007

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#emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen #emmett cullen smut #twilight #the twilight saga #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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bless-my-demons · 6 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Three

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Just fluff, y’all deserve it lol

Notes: I’ve had this chapter written for a long time already and this week I’ve just kept adding to it lol I also tore my thumbnail off at work so I’ve been typing on my phone with my index finger and it’s pissing me off, I apologize if I fuck up some spelling bc of it. Enjoy our boy being back and not holding anything in anymore🥰

Word Count: 3500

Series Masterlist

•March 18th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

I don’t know what’s worse. Watching Jasper leave, or standing in front of him months later completely unprepared to see his face ever again.

Jasper Hale is here, he’s real, he’s home.

I can’t breathe all over again. I just-

My body collides with his before I even realize I’m moving. Wrapping my arms around his neck feels like a puzzle piece clicking into place. He’s solid against me, slightly chilly but real. I can’t believe it, I inhale for the first time since opening the door and it really is him-the scent of pine and everything Jasper slides right into my lungs and clicks against my heart. My breathing is noticeably choppy and I can barely contain the sob lodged in my throat. One hand wrinkles his shirt in a fist at his shoulder while the other grips his beautiful blonde hair at the base of his head, my eyes squeeze shut to hold in the tears from the overwhelming feeling of having him this close again.

“You-you’re home.” I choke out, the lump in my throat almost impossible to slip words past.

His arms close around me delicately picking me up off my feet, like I’m made of porcelain. He hasn’t moved an inch otherwise, almost as if he’s thinking that I might be a dream too. I feel his chest expand and his arms cinch down a little tighter, bands of steel that aren’t releasing me anytime soon.

“I’m here darlin’, I’m home.” Jasper whispers into my neck.

“You can’t-don’t leave-“ I stutter, words failing me, hands starting to shake.

“Shhh sweetheart, I’m here.” He smooths a hand down the back of my head and cradles it against his shoulder.

Tears start to fall in a steady flow at the reassurance in his voice, words I’ve needed to hear for a long time now clanging through my soul. He’s here and I don’t know for how long, but he’s here.

Jasper steps forward into my house with me still enveloped in his arms, nudging the door to slam shut with the toe of his boot, he stops.

“Couch?” He asks, as if he’s unsure what to do next.

I nod into his neck, I could probably let go and walk myself, but I can’t release him just yet. He moves us over to the couch and as he sits, I pick my legs up to lay across his lap, a hand drifting down my thigh to guide me into a comfortable position. It’s like time picked up right where we left off, a shudder running through me at the familiarity of him.

“Darlin’, I need to see that gorgeous face of yours.” He says in that southern accent that’s like a spear to my heart. I want to shake my head, I’d prefer to stay in this bubble locked around him. Instead I do the reasonable thing, my arms relax the death grip I have on his neck as I lean back to look into his eyes.

“There you are, sweet girl.” He whispers with a grin, dark brown eyes tracking the tear stains running down my cheeks. His thumbs reach up to swipe away the wetness as he places a kiss to my forehead before taking a deep breath.

“Why on earth would you try to-to kill-” He struggles with the words in a way that clenches my heart.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It was recreational diving.” I pick at the edge of my sweatshirt and I feel him shift.

“Alice couldn’t see you come out of the water, I was so scared, you… You can’t do that.” Jasper pushes some fallen strands of hair behind my ear, staring at where his cold finger meets my warm skin.

“Can’t do what?” I challenge, meeting his eyes as defiance flairs in me.

“Scare me. Put yourself in a situation where I might lose you.” His answer is warming and bold, but it delivers a blow to my chest.

“Like when I lost you six months ago?” Fuck, the lashing is out of my mouth before I could think, but I stand by it nonetheless.

He takes a deep breath, glancing around the living room before nodding.

“I’m sorry…” my voice is small as I whisper the apology, I truly didn’t mean to snap.

“Sweet girl…” he drifts off and closes his eyes, missing the pink on my cheeks from the nickname. “You have no idea, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The most scared I’ve ever been - that night in September and today.”

“You have no idea, Jasper. It’s not so easy to live without you either. To wonder if you’re alive. If you’ve moved on without me.”

He opens his almost pitch-black eyes and gapes at me like a fish out of water. How could this man think so low of himself that he can’t see how much I care for him?

“Have you been feeding?” I ask him, worry lacing my tone as I take his cheeks in my hands.

“When I need to, it turns out that not a lot matters besides you. You also scaring me to death kind of does that to a man.” He responds with a pointed look and a smirk tugging on his lips, his hands tightening their hold on my waist.

I blush again, not used to him being so open with his thoughts and feelings. “Oh hush.” I flash a sad grin back, the dark circles under my eyes an obvious sign I know exactly how he feels.

“You look tired sweetheart, maybe-“ he begins.

“No.” I interrupt him, there’s no way I’m taking my eyes off him any time soon, not even for a nap.

Realization dawns on him as I stare a hole into his chest, the grip I have on his shirt unyielding like it’s the only thing tethering me to earth. “Y/n, let’s go upstairs and you can take a nap, I’ll stay with you the entire time. You need some sleep, doll.”

“You-you’ll stay with me? You won’t leave?” I ask as he picks me up bridal style in his arms and begins walking to my room.

“I won’t leave, not until you ask me to.” He reassures my fears, no doubt catching the distress pouring off me in droves at just the thought of letting him go even for a simple nap.

“You’ll be okay laying with me?” I ask, concerned about making his hunger uncomfortable.

“Sweetheart,” he starts while ascending the stairs, “I’ve gone too long without you, I can wait a little longer to take care of myself.”

I sink into his arms a little further, my eyelids beginning to feel the weight of all the sleep I haven’t been getting since he’s been gone.

“Sleep, I’ve got you.” He murmurs into my hair, placing a kiss as he turns the corner to my room.

He sets me down on one side of the bed, the sheets unmaid making it easy to pull up and cover me. He speeds to the opposite side of my bed, toeing his shoes off before sliding under the sheets with me. He keeps his distance, facing me on his side with an arm propping up his head so that he could study me.

I turn my body to mirror his, “You’re not staying all the way over there, are you?” I ask mildly offended.

He lets out a chuckle, “Guess not.” He opens his arms to let me wiggle in closer, I press my nose to his chest and pause. “What is it?” He asks, immediately sensing my hesitation.

“Can I?” I lift my leg a little as if in question, too scared to ask something so intimate out loud.

He slides a chilly hand down my leg to grasp the back of my knee to hike over his thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake and not just because he’s cold from the lack of sustenance in his system.

I sigh as I settle in, body finally able to relax for the first time in a very long time. I feel myself drift off as he rubs my back and whispers, “Sweet dreams darlin’, I’ll be here when you wake.”

Blissful all-encompassing darkness finally drags me under peacefully for the first time in months.

Jasper

I’m in Y/n’s bed, actually holding her and breathing her in. It’s like a soothing balm spreading over the exposed live wires of my sanity that have been buzzing uncomfortably since the day I ran from her. Gazing down at her sleeping face, I can tell the last few months have taken their toll on her too. Her forehead has more crinkles from stress, the dark circles under her eyes standing out against her delicate skin. Her lips aren’t quite as full as I remember, no doubt related to the volume missing in her cheeks from lack of nourishment. She’s still gorgeous, devastatingly so, but I know her well enough to notice the small changes.

I take a deep breath to let her scent flow in me, to heal the piece I’ve been missing for months, her hand tightens it’s hold on my shirt. I had no idea my absence would have such a prominent effect. I figured she could live without me simply the way she had before me.

As I gaze around her room to take in the disorganization, I hear her breathing pick up. Glancing back down I spot her nose scrunching up and a scrunch in her brow, in addition her heartbeat begins a steady increase. A nightmare, I can sense the fear and loneliness in her emotions.

“Darlin’,” I murmur softly into the soft skin of her temple as I run a hand down her back, “Wake up darlin’, it’s just a dream.”

She snaps awake with a sharp inhale, “Jasper?” Y/n asks, “You’re still here?”

“I’m here, do you want to talk about your dream?” I ask while I hook some loose strands of hair that escaped her bun behind her ear.

“Doesn’t matter now, you’re here.” She replies, her hands roaming my chest like she’s trying to convince herself of her own words.

God I’m so stupid for leaving this girl.

“Let me… Let me go take a shower so I can feel like myself again. You…?” Her question drifts off like she’s afraid to ask me to stay, like it isn’t her right to make demands like that.

“I’ll be here when you get out sweetheart, take as long as you need.” I end my reassurance with a kiss to her forehead, I can’t get enough of touching her again.

“Okay.” She whispers as she peels herself from where her body is intertwined with mine. I’m not used to the intimacy, but I’m more than happy to oblige my girl.

My girl.

That would require me to make her my girl. Require me to talk about my feelings for her, to make up for my horrible actions, for leaving her alone when she needed me.

I watch her shuffle around her room gathering clean clothes to wear for the night as I scoot back on her bed to lean against the headboard, hands folding in my lap content to just observe. The organization of her room only known to her as she picks up and discards articles of clothing that don’t satisfy her.

I lean forward from my resting place against her headboard and reach a hand back to grab the collar of my hoodie to remove it. As I’m yanking it off, my cotton T rides up flashing her a view of my stomach and I know she catches it based on the change of her scent.

A smirk graces my lips as I extend my hoodie towards her, “Here, sweetheart.”

Stunned eyes blink back up to my face as nervous hands grasp my jacket, “Thank you.” Whispered quickly from her lips.

Once she has what she needs, she pauses in the doorway to the hall, turning back to look at me.

“Go, before I’m tempted to undress you myself.” I smirk at the blush that dusts her cheeks, having reached my goal of bringing color back to her beautiful face. Effectively flustered, she rushes down the hall to her bathroom.

Reader

Wiping the condensation from the mirror, I grimace at the reflection. When did I start to permanently look tired? I let out a huff and check the time on my phone, I slept less than an hour in his arms. Not bothering to blow dry my hair, I ditch my dirty clothes in the hamper and walk back to my room.

Jasper’s eyes immediately find mine, “What’s wrong doll?” He asks, definitely having heard me fuss over my reflection in the bathroom.

“I’m just… still tired.” I offer as I turn to hang up the towel I used for my hair on the back of my door.

“C’mere.” He slides back down the bed from his position at the headboard and opens the blankets for me

I climb back into bed and scoot close to him, my forehead inches from his as I gaze into his dark eyes. I half expected him to be a figment of my imagination when I returned from my shower. We don’t say anything to each other, but it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself and it’s new, but also not at the same time. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love it and I can’t stop touching him either, but it’s different now-I’ve gone so long without him.

“Jasper?” I whisper into the quiet of my room.

“Yes sweetheart?” He responds, halting the hand drawing circles on my arm.

“What are we doing?” I wonder out loud, unable to continue this limbo with him, my nerves shot to hell.

“Well,” he leans in, one hand moving to cup the back of my head, “I’d like to…” his nose bumps mine and I can’t breathe. He’s going to kiss me, Jasper Hale is going to-

Right when I feel his lips ghost mine, his phone rings, ruining the peaceful moment. With a groan and a clench of his jaw, he turns to grab his phone from my nightstand, Alice’s name flashing on the screen.

“This better be important.” He says by the way of a greeting to his adopted sister, as he’s staring at me with those pitch-black eyes. There’s hunger there and I’m not entirely sure it’s for blood this time, I shiver and he catches the movement immediately.

“Mary Alice-“ he manages to force her full name from a clenched jaw.

“Yes-yes I know, I’m sorry, but it’s Edward.” She proceeds to launch into an explanation as he sits up, concern taking over his features as I overhear Alice explain their situation in Volterre.

Wait-Volterre as in Europe? Are Alice and Bella in Europe? What’s wrong with Edward?

Jasper turns to give me a reassuring half-smile, sensing the turn in my emotions.

Shortly the call with Alice ends and he turns to me fully, “What’s going on?” I question before he can manage an explanation.

“I chose to come home the same time Alice came to check on Isabella, after you two decided to do some… recreational cliff diving at the reservation and Alice couldn’t see the outcome. I decided to come with her because I had to see you with my own eyes, the opportunity to see you again was something I couldn’t pass up anymore.” He began, looking down at his hands nervously. “Edward… He called Bella’s home phone requesting to speak to her father and Jacob answered. Informed him that Charlie was planning a funeral, but didn’t mention that it was for Harry Clearwater. So now… now he’s in Volterre asking for death from The Voltouri.”

“Who are the Voltouri?” I asked, worry creeping in for Edward. “Why would he ask them for such a thing?”

His eyes meet mine, soft even though his hunger shines clear. “Darlin’, he thinks Bella is dead. The Voltouri are the governing body to our vampire race. They’re judge, jury, and executioner rolled into one, full of very powerful beings.”

“Okay, but clearly she’s alive! And on her way to meet him, why would he want to die?” I press him harder, worried for my friends.

“He isn't answering his phone, his mind has been made up, which is why Alice is racing the clock to get to him. Isabella is his singer, honey-“ his hands reach for mine as I interrupt him.

“Singer? What in the world is that?” I demand, my patience thinning at the anxiety of the situation.

“A blood singer is a vampire’s greatest temptation,” he begins, now unable to meet my questioning gaze, looking at our intertwined fingers instead. “They’re blood sings, or in other words, is irresistible perfection for their vampire. In some cases they are the potential mate for the vampire. A singer isn’t like that for all vampires, usually just for the one. A life without them is extremely dull in comparison once you’ve found them.” He concludes.

“Sounds like you’re familiar with the feeling,” I mumble self-consciously. “Have you had a singer?”

The sharp exhale he forces out snaps my eyes to his. “Yes.” He answers truthfully.

“Oh…” My heart sinking, I try to pull my hands from his but he holds tight. “That’s-“

“You, darlin’.” He states matter of factly, one of his fingers lifting my chin, so that he could find my eyes. “You are that for me.”

“I-I’m your singer?” Disbelief and awe seep into my tone.

Jasper’s fingers drift down my neck following the path of my pulse, his dark gaze following their trail. “Yes Y/n, you’re mine.”

I shiver at the pure possession in his voice and the dangerous glint in his eyes. I wonder if he knows how that sounded, like there was no room for negotiation - like it’s more than my blood he wants.

“Honey, you keep those thoughts up and we’re in trouble.” He grinds out, a war raging behind his eyes.

“Jasper…” I trail off as I climb over the remaining space separating us and into his lap, like a magnet drawn to its counterpart.

“Does this mean we’re… Mates?” I ask, not really sure of what that implies.

“Yes,” Jasper takes a moment to seemingly gather his thoughts, “you need to tread very lightly, little one.” His voice a deep vibration in the quiet room, his hands flexing on the comforter of my bed.

“Oh my god, you haven’t eaten and I-“ I stutter out as I rise from my position in his lap. I’m his fucking singer and I’m pushing his limits while he’s hungry!

“Now that you know everything… I need to hunt. I think I’ve tested all the patience and luck I’m going to get today.” He states with his black eyes still locked on mine.

I leaned against my dresser a few feet in front of him and fold my arms over my chest, a little insecure under his intense gaze now that his proximity isn’t overriding my rational thoughts.

“Go, go hunt. But please, come back to me?” I ask him.

He rises from the edge of my bed, slowly closing the gap and resting a hand on my cheek softly. I lean into it, closing my eyes and turning to press a kiss to it before meeting his eyes again. His lips part as if he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction, “I’m yours now - have always been, but now I know I don’t have the strength to do that again, to abandon you.” He reassures my fears quickly. “It’ll be a few days, to properly prepare myself, but I promise you’re my first stop when I’m back.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Hale.” Feeling better about him leaving now that I have his word. Jasper leans down to place a lingering kiss to my forehead, his cool lips feeling like heaven on my heated skin.

“Be safe while I’m gone, please.” He whispers into my hair, his thumb sweeping my cheek back and forth adoringly. I nod since my throat feels like I’ve swallowed cotton, sad that I’m forced to be without him for a few days after just getting him back.

He steps away from me toward my open window, where the cool spring air drifts in. Glancing back for one last look before making his exit, I catch his eyes scanning every inch of my body.

He’s out of the window in the next fraction of a second, not even a whisper of footsteps in his wake. I wrap myself a little tighter in his hoodie, his intoxicating scent soothing the ache that’s beginning to return, reminding me he’s here.

He’s home, Jasper Hale came home to me.

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#redamancy series #bless-my-demons #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale #twilight #female reader insert

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dramaticallycryingblood · 1 month

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Things I don’t get about the marauders fandom as someone who’s been obsessed with them for literal years

1. How we let so many characters be only children?? like I get that people don’t necessarily want to make OCs but HOW did it get to this? James, Marlene, Peter, Remus, Mary, Barty, Dorcas, Alice, Frank and so many others! Idk maybe it’s just where I’m from but look me in the eyes and tell me you know that many people who don’t have siblings ALSO the ratio is so off and barely any of them have only child energy. It’s just not right.

2. How sooo many of you aren’t multi shippers. Like what do you MEAN you can only see James with Regulus and Regulus with James?? What about bartylus? what about sunrose? what about draksun/sunkiller? what about moonwater? what about jily? what about prongstail? WHAT do you read?? Aren’t you bored??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN you only have ONE ship for each character???? As a multi shipper, I can be convinced of any ship with anything ranging from a real good fic or a pretty edit to an enthusiastic rant from a random person on TikTok and it just makes things interesting. Maybe my adhd brain just needs more ships to focus on or maybe some of you just lack flexibility ( or imagination), but we need to fix this cause there aren’t enough fics with the ships I like 😭😭

3. THE SHIP NAMES. I can’t be the only one who thinks some of these suck right? Like why are we saying jegulus when starchaser and sunseeker are RIGHT THERE?? Same with jily and flowerpot, and bartylus and starkiller. ALSO some names make me wonder if some of you just haven’t grasped the concept of ship names or if I just got it all wrong cause marylily and jegulily are just annoying, why are we keeping the L in Lily? The point is to merge the names together not stick them one beside the other, I just say marily and jeguily because it rolls off the tongue so much more easily

4. The Peter erasure. I just don’t get it, it’s so easy to include him in things, you don’t have to make him a main character, but just mention him every once in awhile. Sometimes I’m reading an important scene in a fic and everyone is mentioned EXCEPT for Peter! It’s so easy, just make him roll his eyes at his friends being idiots or something. And it’s not like you’ll get his personality wrong, ALL THESE CHARACTERS PERSONALITIES WERE MADE UP BY FANS but I understand that some people lack imagination so here’s some things about Peter I like to imagine: he’s a HUGE gossip, like my man sees and hears everything and he takes notes!! He likes to randomly turn into a rat and take a nap in one of the other marauders’ pocket, he does it so much that they had to tell the girls that they had a pet rat cause they were asking too many questions. He’s really perceptive and his friends are all oblivious so it leads to funny scenarios like:

Remus & Sirius after YEARS of pining: we’re dating

Peter: I thought you guys had been together since third year?

Sirius: I’ve literally introduced you to people I was dating?!

Peter, shrugging: look mate I don’t question you lot anymore, you do whatever you want, I don’t care what you’re into, I just don’t wanna know about it

He also pulls people, like he’s really nice and will gossip to anyone who’s in his vicinity so he’s friends with basically everyone and he’s funny and pretty and he’s got charisma so he just charms everyone and when I say everyone, I mean everyone, even the slytherins have a soft spot for him (that’s how he gets accepted among the death eaters during the war actually). In pranks he’s the lookout so he often has to distract the teachers so he asks them random things and spits out half-made up facts about anything so he’s besties with most of the teachers which means he doesn’t get many detentions.

5. The Black brothers, more specifically the way the speak to each other in most fics, like they call each other “brother” so often and as someone who has a brother I’ve never called him that. Is it an anglophone thing? Like do people who speak English at home all do that or are fic writers only children?? (That would explain my first point actually) Or is it more a rich people thin?? Cause I know it’s not a francophone thing that’s for sure (also special mention to people who don’t know anything about French writing Sirius and Regulus as French speakers, I can tell you don’t know what you’re writing about but I eat it up everytime anyway)

6. This is actually just about ao3 but I WANNA BE ABLE TO LEAVE MORE KUDOS!!! I just loooooove fics but I can’t leave kudos at every single chapter and I’m bad at writing comments so I can’t show the author how much I love their work, I hate itttt 😭

7. Why there aren’t more fics about the Black family, and not just Sirius and Regulus, but Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa as well like that would be so interesting and maybe like a deep dive into the Black family ideals and all that (if you have fic recs I’m all ears!!)

8. How jegulily is a pretty popular ship (which I LOVE) yet SO FEW people ship Regulus and Lily outside of it! They are a power couple and I love them and they don’t need James to work!!!

9. Why there isn’t more background Minnie x Poppy cause they are my mothers and I wanna see them moooooreeee

If you read all of this I love you 🥰 have an amazing day/night

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 10 months

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Patience is the Virtue of a Lady

Summary: As Daemon's wife, you are left humiliated by your errant husband. As the product of an annulled marriage, you are seen as barren and tainted, left to befriend Queen Alicent, gaining the reputation of an unsalvageable woman over the years.

But, the heart wants what it wants, and you have had your eyes on unattainable Ser Criston for years.

Notes: anon’s mind is imploding with the amount of genius in it. thank you for requesting, i was on my knees for this idea

Warnings: smut, religious undertones, afab!reader, daemon is an ass, criston is an ass, reader is genuinely not having a great time (at first ahaha), religious/vow-related guilt, slight size kink?

Taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @a-beaverhausen @ilikeitbetterangsty @levithestripper (adding you tentatively, jack, hmu to be added to any!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN! (and i'm back to writing!!)

Daemon never cared to hide his straying looks, and you knew of his habits. Whoring, drinking, murdering – and yet, you were lucky for having married a Targaryen Prince. You kept your mouth shut, knowing that you would, otherwise, end like your predecessor, Rhea Royce.

Why Viserys had insisted Daemon marry against his will again, you’d never understand.

You kept your mouth shut, through whores, paramours and treason. You played your part, as everyone did in the court. And when your eyes strayed, they did so secretly and carefully. You chose to stare at someone you could not attain anyway.

A kingsguard was your safest bet at something that would never happen anyway. You seethed against the humiliation of your husband and sought your own distraction. Even when Daemon stared hungrily at Rhaenyra, a girl, you said naught.

Targaryen tradition – you did not know if you could argue with that. But Rhaenyra was barely fifteen. She was beautiful, yes, but even now, the fact that your husband would prefer a girl over you stung.

In the early days of your marriage, you had gone to the sept every day, beseeching the Mother to give you a child, even if your husband refused to touch you beyond a drunken wedding night, in which he had failed to even come close to producing a child. Now, you were glad for your childless state, even if the court whispered that you were barren.

So when Daemon left your shared chambers, which were an order of the king, you bade him goodnight and turned back to your reading. Still, you stared from your balcony out at the small spot outside the Red Keep he always appeared in after a while.

A secret entrance only Daemon knew how to use. You held your breath when a small figure appeared first, silver hair glinting in the moonlight.

Rhaenyra.

A few moments later, Daemon appeared, and they disappeared into the city.

The rumors in the days to come were enough for you to draw your own conclusions, but to your surprise, Ser Criston was soon included in them, which stung more than anything. You’d deemed him safe to keep as your own in secret, and yet, Rhaenyra had not only taken your husband from you, but also him.

It hurt more than the annulment of your marriage that Daemon brought forth. You only nodded through the process, letting the Septon say what he wanted, and Daemon tell as many lies as he needed.

And so, your name was yours again and all you were in court was the former wife of Prince Daemon. Your family seethed, ready to remove you from court until Queen Alicent asked you to become her lady-in-waiting, and you were once again stuck in a court of lies.

Ser Criston grew bitter over Rhaenyra, but instead of becoming your friend, he began to worship Queen Alicent. It wasn’t lust, it wasn’t love, but something queer in between.

In his own twisted way, he once again wanted anyone but you, and it stung when it shouldn’t have. Weren’t you supposed to be past this?

And yet, you tortured yourself, watching as he raised Alicent’s children as his own and continued to barely spare you a glance. The court grew disinterested in you, and you continued to lead a life as quiet as before, turning into a lonely spinster with the years.

Only now, you turned to the Father in the Sept, begging for purpose. For anything to happen in your life that might make it worth something.

And then, Lady Laena died. Beautiful, magical, mysterious Lady Laena, who you’d never known and yet loved for ridding you of your husband was dead.

You attended the funeral, even prayed for her, hoping that she would find peace – a thing you thought highly unlikely for a wife of Daemon. You watched as Daemon once again practically drooled over Rhaenyra, and watched as she did the same. Alicent saw it, too.

“It appears as if some things do not change.” Alicent commented dryly. It was treason, what she said, but her nerves had been frayed for the past few weeks, and she knew you would not speak ill of her to the king. You wouldn’t have made a difference to frail King Viserys anyway.

“No, my queen.” You sighed. “But it is not me he is humiliating this time.”

“That did not make you deserve it.” Alicent replied, ever gracious. She slipped her arm into yours, as if you were still the young, disappointed women you had once been and led you away from the balcony. Ser Criston followed dutifully, and for some reason, it felt as if his eyes were burning into your back.

Rhaenyra and Daemon disappeared together, and everyone in their presence trained their eyes to the ground, pretending not to see. Your hand curled into a fist instinctually, feeling old anger and disappointment bubble back up in you.

Perhaps, if you had been bolder, you could have reigned Daemon in. You could have been queen consort, and saved Alicent all her pain. They were silly thoughts, and yet, they made you leave the room, and make for your chambers.

You almost screamed when you saw a dark figure sitting in them, back turned to you, until you recognized dark curls and white armour.

“I almost thought Daemon had finally sent someone after me.” You mumbled, half to yourself. Criston turned, looking right through you.

“Ser Criston?” You asked carefully. He’d grown older, as all of you had, but his beauty remained to him. Criston stayed silent, still staring.

“Criston?” You tried again, calling him by his first name this time, and slowly, he seemed to see you standing across from him.

“She could have had me, and freedom. She chose this prison, you know?” Criston told you. For a moment, your felt confused, before you realised that he was speaking of Rhaenyra, still heartbroken. Of course.

“What are you doing in my chambers, ser?” You asked. Ser Criston laughed dryly.

“You never deserved what he did to you. Prince Daemon dishonored you.” Ser Criston continued, not answering your question. “A lady so beautiful any a man would have been grateful to have you as their wife, and yet, he threw you away for nothing at all.”

Nothing. He had called beautiful Laena, wild Rhaenyra nothing at all. What treason, and how your heart loved to hear it.

You swallowed down your bitterness, ignoring the fluttering feeling in your stomach as Ser Criston called you beautiful. Yet, you kept your guard up. This place was only an extension of King’s Landing, reeking of corruption just as much. For a moment, you considered whether, mayhaps, this was some kind of ploy.

Ser Criston stood so suddenly you took a step back instinctively. He passed you, and you thought that he was going to leave, tired of your company. Instead, he closed the door in front of him. The lock clicked into place, a cacophony of sound in the silence that hung over the room. You held your breath, praying to the gods that nothing would happen to you.

He began to close the distance between you, and you began to back up, until your knees hit the bed, and you fell backwards. Criston was still walking, still closing in on you like prey, and you felt yourself scramble backwards. The headboard stopped your attempt to flee, forcing you to look at Ser Criston.

He stood at the end of the bed, his hand on his sword. Could you make a run for it? Where was there to run?

His swordbelt unravelled, and the weapon hit the ground with a quiet thud. Criston only waited, staring at you expectantly. What did he want?

Slowly, you felt yourself freeze out of place, dragging yourself across the bed towards the end of it, where he stood solemnly. Carefully, you reached up, putting a hand on his shoulder. You heard him inhale shakily.

“Ser Criston, are you alright?” You asked. A pause, then, a shaky breath and a shrug that turned into a shake of his head. “Ser?”

“I’m sorry.” Criston said finally. Carefully, his hand took yours. You stared down, looking at the dark grey glove that covered his hand, starkly contrasting the white of the rest of his uniform. The leather felt soft against your hand, and it was that you tried to focus on, not the fact that you were holding the man’s hand in yours.

“What for?” You asked, smiling up at him nervously. You hated the position you were in, the vulnerability of it. Your neck was craned to look up at him, and you were practically kneeling on the bed. If anyone found you like this, they would accuse you of unthinkable things… Alicent would never forgive you.

“For not defending you. For what I am to do.” Criston said. “Both tarnish my knighthood, my white cloak… tarnishing you.”

You opened your mouth to speak. “What you are about to…”

As Ser Criston pulled off his gloves, cupping your face with his left hand, you trailed off. You could hear your heart beating in your chest. You wanted to pinch yourself. Surely, you were dreaming. This was not real.

Yet, even if it was, you did not care to move away from him. Instead, his lips found yours, soft and gentle in their own way. You felt yourself reciprocate, though you knew that you should not. You should not be doing this, betraying Alicent in this way and yet…

He sighed into the kiss, and the thought disappeared in the fuzz of your mind. You were unable to think, almost unable to breathe. Gods, how long you had waited for this moment. Weeks, months, years.

“Do not give in.” Criston begged. You paused, breaking the kiss to look at him, but no words left your mouth. He repeated his own once, before something shifted in his eyes. This time, he kissed you less softly, and more so like in the bawdy tales your sister had told you. And you found yourself reeling, your hands against his chestplate to steady yourself.

Even as his hands slip under your dress and travel up your thighs, he begged. “Please, stop me.” He whispered. You shook your head in saccharine betrayal and Criston rested his on your shoulder for a moment. His hands left your thighs, leaving the skin hot and burning, and snaked up your neck, cradling your head. They were big, encompassing your skull and somehow, that made your breath hitch.

Hands that were made to kill, and yet, he was holding you so gently, as if you were fragile. A sudden boldness made you speak.

“Do you want me?” you asked. He lifted his head, nodded almost frantically and you made your choice.

Had the distance between you two really been that dramatically large? It felt as if there was no world around you, only your lips on his, his hands touching, holding as your husband should have held you. As you should have held your children.

Oh how you had longed for years, had none of it, and watched as others had been destroyed, by husbands, by children… yet it still felt so deeply unfair that you could not bring yourself to feel guilty for this little thing. Just this once.

You let Criston kiss you, worship you with his hands as he took his time, carefully unlacing your dress, letting the fabric pool around you. Still, you sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. He loomed in his armor, dwarfed you from this perspective.

When you were finally in your shift, you could not help shivering. Criston looked at you with worry in his eyes, before he slipped away, stoking the fire in the furnace. The heat did not match the feeling his hands left on your skin.

He stood before the fireplace, his silhouette illuminated as he took off his armor. The chestplate, the padding, all those parts that shielded him when he did his duties were discarded carelessly on the floor, a stark contrast to his eyes, trained to the ground.

The shadows that flickered through the room, created by candles and fire illuminate the muscles of his back as his dressshirt joined his armor on the ground. You could feel yourself biting your lips to keep yourself from making unladylike sounds.

When Criston returned to the bed, you expected him to push you into the bed, to climb atop you and do what Daemon could not. Instead, he fell to his knees before you at the end of the bed. Confused, you stared down at him.

“What are you doing?” you asked him. He did not answer, his eyes dark as he stared up at you, filled with things you would never tell your septon about. His hands pushed up the seams of your shift until it bunched at your hips.

Suddenly, you felt exposed, and your legs crossed automatically. You sat up straight, as you had been taught, until Criston’s hand returned to your knee, patient, waiting. You understood. Slowly, you uncrossed your legs again.

You still felt exposed as Criston began to place kisses on your knee, even more so when his mouth wandered upwards, towards your thighs. He had kissed your mouth, had barely kissed your neck and now he looked like he wanted to devour your thighs.

Criston took his time sucking marks into the flesh of your thighs, marking it as his, you suddenly realized. And how you loved to be loved.

His mouth moved upwards with a pace that was so slow it almost became painful. You felt a moan escape you, covering your mouth immediately. Criston, looking up again, shook his head. You felt confused – wanton sounds, those were condemned by the church. They could not possibly be what he, such a devout man, would want to hear?

Only, Criston wasn’t that devout after all, was he?

And when his lips touched your cunt in devout prayer, you answered in such currency. Eagerly, his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, flicking the nub at the top with impatient insistence until you felt your back weaken. You let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress with a girlish ease you had not felt in years, but suddenly it was there, and you were floating…

How had the septons dared to tell you all this was sin? How could that be true? How could it be when-

Criston never ceased his movements when you grew louder, trying to contain your sounds to the confines of your chambers. A knot was beginning to tie itself in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter until you were begging Criston for something – you didn’t know what it was, except that he knew, that he would give it to you.

And then, suddenly, the knot was gone, and something else took its place. You weren’t sure if this was something you had ever felt before because it was all-consuming, washing over you like a golden wave and pulling you under. The tension, the pressure, all of it was gone, replaced by white-hot pleasure and your eyes rolled backwards, your back arching off the bed towards Criston.

Coming down from you high, you felt Criston slowly removing your shift, continuing his worship on your stomach and your chest, sucking and biting skin until he felt you squirm beneath him. It was then that he looked at you, smirking, but you could see that his eyes were full of something no one had ever looked at you with.

Not desire, nor lust, for you had seen those in men who eyed you greedily during banquets. It was not the empty, sad stare King Viserys gave Alicent. No, it was the glances Ser Harwin had thrown at Rhaenyra before her death. The look of adoration Queen Aemma had held for King Viserys all those years ago…

You had no need to say the word, for you knew, and it made your head spin. Could it be?

His hands pulled your shift over your head, until you were bare for him. He was still wearing breeches, but you could see the strain beneath them. Filled with sudden confidence, you pulled him towards you, kissing Ser Criston and wrapping your legs around his waist in a desperation to have him close to you.

Your hands fumbled at the laces of his breeches clumsily, until he gently removed them, doing the work himself. You could see Criston’s cock, half-concealed by the shadows between you and the dark, and yet, you knew it was bigger than Daemon’s. The thought of it made you afraid and your face heat up at the same time.

His hand moved languidly while he leaned down to kiss you. When his hips bucked into his hand, you heard yourself beg him for it, and that seemed to change something in him. Suddenly, Criston seemed hungry.

You could feel him between your legs, and then, you weren’t all that confident anymore. But Ser Criston held you close, whispering reassurances and praise until you could feel him enter you. There was a small stretch, a small feeling of discomfort, and Ser Criston halted his movements for a bit.

When you nodded, he began to move, his body rocking into you. He seemed to know what he was doing when he rolled his hips, stimulating that spot inside of you you had no idea existed in the first place.

The first time he hit it, you felt the air knocked out of you from pleasure. And then, the feeling became a rapid addiction. Your hands dragged his chest to yours, your legs wrapping around his waist again in an attempt to urge him to move faster, harder, to make you feel good.

Ser Criston, the perfect white knight, obliged. He snapped his hips against yours, angling them upwards and giving you something that you had not thought would work that way, feel that way.

“Please, Criston.” You gasped.

“Please what? What do you need, my lady?” Criston replied, his words coming in short intervals. He was just as gone as you, you realized, and that only added to your own high.

“Oh Gods,” you began. “Criston, I don’t know, I- please, please,…”

He rested his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time, his teeth found your shoulder, biting down gently at first. The pain was good. It added an edge you had no idea you needed, brought you back down into a realm where you could form some coherent thought.

The knot you had felt before, the tension that had turned into a coil in your stomach returned with a sudden fervency. This time, the feeling was there more quickly, more intense and it was almost too much. At the same time, you felt as if you would die if it stopped.

Criston seemed to feel it, and only later would you realise that your cunt was clenching around him so tightly that he was having difficulty not to moan as loudly as you. But Criston continued, and he pushed you over the edge, leaving you reeling in pleasure as his hand clapped over your mouth to muffle a scream.

He followed soon after, only that he refused to spend his seed inside you, instead painting your stomach with it. You know why he did it, and yet, it somehow still hurt. Before you could ponder too much on the matter, Criston disappeared, returning with his breeches on and a rag in hand. He cleaned you while you lied on the bed, the soreness beginning to sneak in after your high.

Afterwards, Criston lied down next to you. He did not speak, but he did not pray either, and for that, you were glad. And still, he was the one who pulled you closer. You held onto him, basked in his warmth.

Finally, your patience and virtue had been rewarded. You did not waste a single thought on what would come in the future, only that this was right, and no septon nor Alicent would be able to convince you otherwise (not that you would tell them about this to begin with).

You could feel yourself dozing off in your white knight’s arms, until the alarm bells of High Tide suddenly began to rang. As the castle came alive under the signal, Criston shot up, and so did you. Shouts passed your door, and he scrambled to put on his armor.

Never a moment’s peace in this world.

#criston #criston x reader #ser criston #ser criston x reader #ser criston cole #ser criston cole x reader #criston cole #criston cole x reader #smut #criston cole smut #hotd #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd smut #criston cole imagine #minor #rhaenyra targaryen x daemon targaryen #request #criston cole angst

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

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My Turn (Daemon x Reader)

This gave a refreshing note of a “what if” and I haven’t written angst in a while so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did

“Hightower women are cursed with the burden of being second wives”

Such a vile statement that the people at court would whisper for queen Alicent and her sister (y/n). When Alicent married king Viserys no one was aware of how heavy it sunk in little Alicents heart. (y/n) idolised her older sister since she never met their mother.

Alicent had already given birth two children and (y/n) remained a maiden, she did not mind if she was honest, the entire concept of wedlock terrified her, her hopeless romantic side yearned for a knight in shinning armour that would sweep her off her feet, however she did not allow herself to foolishly dream of such a future seriously.

“I come with wonderful news”

“You are with child again?”

“No, you are to marry”

“What? No”

“Yes sister, it has been long overdue, besides your lord husband is quite eligible”

“Care to share the name?”

“Daemon Targaryen”

Daemon had never been cruel to (y/n), he was fair enough to understand this was not her fault, on the contrary he acknowledged the effort she put everyday to make their marriage work, always greeting him with a kind smile, listening with the deepest intention, asking about his interests and yet he still could not… love her, it was odd still it was the truth, he turned cold against her, respected her but kept her at arms length, she was a good companion to him that were bind by wedlock and nothing more.

He tried, he really did try to deny Rhaenyra, after the brothel incident he attempted to cut the cord with his beautiful niece, but how could someone turn his back to such a woman that is Rhaenyra? She had bewitched him, wrapped his free will around her pretty little finger, the two dragons held a bright fire that was meant to burn side by side.

(Y/n) was the complete opposite of Rhaenyra, a meek and frail character, a pious girl that was lost within her religion, a septa was always by her side, though she was also kind, gracious, charitable.

“Do I repulse you that much?”

“What?”

“You can barely look me in the eye, I-I do not know what it is that makes you hate me so much”

“I do not hate you (y/n)-“

“Then why are you so cruel to me?”

Her voice broke as she questioned her husband, it had been Aegons nameday and (y/n) had more than one glass of wine, truth serum took over her brain as she walked in her husbands chamber to drill him.

Tears ran down her cheeks while her chin quivered, Daemon did not know how to answer her, he felt guilt pang his chest, she had been a dutiful wife, a loyal woman, however affection was not something that came naturally to him when it came to his wife.

“My dear wife”

He whispered to her, his voice softer than usual. Daemon reached for her, cupping her soft cheeks and her wiped away her tears with his thumbs, the bronze Bitch had never made it so difficult to be his usual unfriendly self, (y/n) made him fight with his own self and morals.

“I just- I wanted us to be happy”

She managed to confess between her sniffles, under the candle light she looked so wonderful, her nightgown let her shoulders, arms and chest bare, he had forgotten what her figure looked like since their wedding, she was pretty, desirable even.

Daemon might not have been the best lord husband, albeit he gifted her with the biggest love she could ever ask for, the love of a child. That night (y/n) caressed her stomach, deep inside she could feel her little dragon, the babe found refuge in her belly after their coupling.

Daemon had held his first born true son in his arms he felt the connection, however he recognised that on that morrow (y/n) became a mother for the first time, Daemon did not.

He had been decent, secretive with his affair with Rhaenyra, he owed (y/n) that much to allow her to walk around the castle with some decency, especially his two children, Baelon and Alyssa to be free of those whispers about their father.

“Why the frown sweet Aemond?”

“Everyone arrived with their dragons”

“Except of you and Alyssa”

“Everyone thinks I am a failure”

“do you think Alyssa is a failure?”

“No, Alyssa is kind and beautiful and funny-”

“And without a dragon, you know the greatest woman I have ever met does not ride a dragon”

“Who?”

“Your mother and yet look at her, the clement queen and the most elegant of them all”

As Aemond looked down at his shoes (y/n) took it upon herself to wrap her one arm around him and kiss the top of the princes head in endearment, she had witnessed how cruel Rhaenyras children were with their jokes, the pig incident had been the worst, Alyssa cried for two morrows from embarrassment.

“The gods work in mysterious ways, they take and then give back in ten fold, be patient, have faith and you shall be rewarded, also Baelon will take you for a ride on grey ghost, does that sound fun?”

“Really?”

“It is a sin to lie”

To see Aemonds face light up and ran to his nephew Baelon with excitement made (y/n)s day, she just remained still and allowed the scene of Aemond and Baelon talk about grey ghost.

“Thank you for that sweet sister”

Alicent approached her sister, as the ladies stood side by side the dress (y/n) was wearing was almost identical, the Hightower green stood out in between the Targaryen reds and blacks, (y/n) smiled at her older sister before she allowed her hand to brush against the queens upper arm for comfort.

“No reason to thank me, at the end of the day we only have family to lean on”

“Depends on what family are you referring, we are surviving between dragons you know”

“Alicent-“

“Where is your lord husband (y/n)? Oh that is right, I see him now, talking with Rhaenyra once again as he has her son in his arms. It is particularly odd, I have never seen him this affectionate with Baelon nor Alyssa”

Daemon and Rhaenyra had always been close, ever since she could remember Daemon had a soft spot for Rhaenyra, if she was honest they were times that she felt like there was a silent competition between her and the Targaryen princess.

As a woman and a wife it was considerably painful, as a mother she could not allow her emotions to poison their two children. (Y/n) had a eyes and a brain, it did not require more than that to identify the tenderness Daemon used around Rhaenyra, howbeit she swallowed the lump and her pride, shaking her head slightly to rid herself from all the thoughts.

“Such a observant lady you are, you know I could also say the same for your children, his grace has never been affectionate with either of the children you brought in this life, at least one thing I can say for myself is that my lord husband has never called me by his late wife’s name”

It was low blow, a punch in the gut and a dirty way to play but (y/n) had lost control, Alicent was her family, her confidant, she could not just listen to her sister spew such accusations for the father of her children.

(Y/n) felt suffocated, like Alicent had stolen all the air from her lungs, she did not spare a look to the queen as she stepped away from her to approach her youngest daughter Alyssa who was sitting on the floor by Heleanas side.

“My lovely lady bugs, it is getting quite late, why don’t we go inside?”

“Mother Heleana found a scorpion”

“Careful now Heleana, scorpions are known for their poisonous tail”

“The sting of the green scorpion will poison the mighty red dragon”

(Y/n) listened intently to her nieces riddles whenever she could hear them, Heleana was a kind soul and withheld a powerful gift, she was a dreamer, but this one seemed difficult to solve, dragons were Targaryens but who was the scorpion?

Alicent and (y/n) could never truly stay mad at each other, it wasn’t odd that the soldier who warned them about their children found the two ladies enjoying tea by the fire. The two had ran to their children, Aemond had been stitched up while Maelor suffered an injury across his collarbone.

“Jace? Luke! Show me, show me dearest”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Once Daemon barged in the room with Rhaenyra he stood in front of the princess and allowed his eyes roam the room to find the corporate of the young Lucerys being wounded.

Voices erupted as Aemond, Baelon, Jace and Luke accused one another for the incident. The tired and ill king tormented by the pain of his plague could barely even talk so he resided with stomping his cane.

“Silence! All of you! What has happened on this grim day?”

“Your son has been maimed and her sons are responsible”

“It was an accident”

“Accident? The young Lucerys and Jacaerys managed to harm both prince Baelon and Aemond with their blade, they meant to kill not to tease”

(Y/n) chimed in fiercely, to see the blood of her first born stain his clothes as one of the maesters stitched him up and her nephew lose an eye, the tragedy stirred up a fire in (y/n)s heart.

“I am certain the princes can explain why they acted out like this”

(Y/n) scoffed at the words of her husband, there their son stood being the receiver of an attempted assassination and he still had the audacity to defend Rhaenyras children.

“Vile insults were thrown to my sons, they merely defended themselves”

“Defend? Correct me if I am wrong princess, wasn’t it your sons that pulled the most ridiculous and humiliating prank on dear Aemond?, it is they who chased down my son and Aemond to act like bullies in the middle of the night”

“(Y/n) do not allow your temper to take over, our son accused the future heir of illegitimacy, a treacherous crime”

“He is our son Daemon, in case you have forgotten, how can a father be so cruel to his first born?”

(Y/n)s voice broke when she drilled Daemon. She had done everything she could to keep their family together, to appear as a living couple and spare their children from the pain of being the second best, she covered her ears when her father and sister would ask questions about how close of a relationship Daemon had with Rhaenyra.

Now, when it was the time that he must stand up for their children, he was against them, he called their son “treacherous”, she was baffled at the emotions she was experiencing, her chest felt heavy from the fury and unfairness she was being treated with.

“Who spoke these lies to you prince Baelon?”

The king questioned. (Y/n) was known for her pacifist acts, she desperately searched for the good in people, nonetheless her son is being accused of treachery after he has been attacked, he was still being stitched when the king questioned him.

“It was Aegon, he said Rhaenyras children are my siblings”

The sensation (y/n) experienced was only described as a cold bucket of water was dumped on her head. The whispers had nipped her heels for so long, she could take it, on the other hand her children could not be put on that blade, Daemon had failed to protect them while he whole heartedly stood against his own wife to protect Rhaenyra.

Suddenly everything was clear, like a veil was lifted from (y/n)s eyes, Daemon had exposed them to shame and embarrassment, making a fool out of their wedlock for princess Rhaenyra.

Her eyes fell upon the blade (y/n) had gifted her husband for his nameday, a fine gift that she had requested from old town was sitting on his husbands waist band.

“Dear lord husband, do you have anything to say in your defence?”

She questioned him as she took a few steps to finally stand close enough. Daemon remained silent, not exactly sure of how to deal with this situation, he looked back on all his mishaps, on all the time he detected servants whispering while he conversant with Rhaenyra in the garden.

Daemons passion and love for her had left him exposed, he had dishonour Baelon and Alyssa that had tears pooling their eyes, waiting for their father to protect them and even defend their honour, deny everything and put their young minds to rest.

“my turn”

Was all (y/n) said before she swiftly took the dagger from Daemon and charged for the princess Rhaenyra, the princess was quick on her feet and managed to stop (y/n)s hand mid air, still the Hightower lady persisted all while grunt left her lips from the agony of embarrassment, even though Rhaenyra was defending herself she could not completely disregard (y/n)s feelings, casted aside and forced to work things out herself, however Rhaenyra always loved Daemon, it was their destiny to be together.

“It is time you pay for everything you have done”

“You have gone mad”

“Yes I have and your family is responsible for it. you have frowned upon me for so long, my husband turned his back on us every time our children needed their father, you have pointed the finger at my sister for everything that slightly inconvenienced you. We loved you, served you fiercely but we were never good enough for royalty, the dragon can only feel loved or give love to its own kind”

“As a pious woman expected you to be the selfless princess you portray yourself as, now you exposed yourself without me having to lift a finger, saint (y/n)”

It was that sentence that compelled (y/n) to give one last push with all her might, Rhaenyra shoved her away earning herself a clean cut from the blade, a few drops of blood dripped on the well polished floor and a unanimous gasp was breathed out from the people in this room.

Daemon caught Rhaenyra as she stumbled back and grabbed her arm to see the injury while (y/n) froze with her eyes almost popping from her eye socket, shocked at what she has done.

Rhaenyra spared a look to (y/n) full of questions, everyone’s breath hitched at the sight of two mothers coming to violence over words left unspoken for so long, the pain wasn’t as bad as the emotion Rhaenyra was experiencing, battling between backing herself and claiming her love for Daemon.

Rhaenyra was not as cruel as to not recognise (y/n) was caught in the crossfire, her heart tugged at the tears that started to form on her attackers eyes, the young lively girl she had once met was now an empty shell of a woman

“Mother, are you alright?”

Baelon reached his mother, concern written all over the young boys face. (Y/n) threw away the blade, disgusted about the way she acted while her children were present, her hands found the boys cheeks and placed a kiss on his forehead. Alicent and Aemond along with Alyssa came as well, surrounding (y/n) to support her, Daemon and Rhaenyra with the children on the other side, holding the princess up as her blood was shed.

Daemons heart was shattered and he could not help but feel responsible over this, Rhaenyra caught the sharp side of the blade and the bad side of his wife, his true born children betrayed by him, his love children exposed to the truth far too young, the blade did not just cut Rhaenyra, it also cut the bond between him and his true born children, all because he dared to love.

“Do not fret over me my sweet son, Hightowers are known for following tradition, sons will always come before daughters”

“Hightowers mayhaps, Baelon carries the name of Targaryens, and family comes before all”

“Exactly which family are you referring to Daemon? Yours and mine or Rhaenyras and��. Laenors?”

Requests are open!

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bucknastysbabe · 2 months

Text

Rating: Explicit

Tags: College!au, modern!au, nerd loser baby Criston, loss of virginity, hot stem computer partner girly, older girl, Alicent for the win, short n sweet n smutty, pnv!sex, first dates, Criston’s inner dialogue, subby lil baby

Taglist: @bambitas @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @starogeorgina @moncherrii @valeskafics @arcielee @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2

A/N: shout-out to @fairysluna “he looks like a loser who jacks off to hentai but I’d fuck him.” I made the divider :)

Criston knew he was a fucking incel. Maybe at some point in his miserable life he could’ve done a sport and use his decent height and muscle tone. But no, he was cripplingly shy and had a stutter that took forever to get rid of— sometimes rearing its ugly head when he was angry or flustered.

He spent his time studying, playing league of legends, and jerking off obscenely to hentai. Yes, the Japanese porn comics. It was easier to ignore how pathetic he was reading those or talking to a chat bot that thought everything he said was hot.

Criston thought best to keep under the radar, head down and attentive in his classes. One day he’d be a rich computer scientist Silicon Valley type and then he could just, like, have the girls come to him. Because he’d be rich. No longer weird, ugly, and a huge VIRGIN. He felt like it was stamped on his forehead. Or perhaps his was the Star Wars buttons on his jacket— that’s a big cue.

He tucked a dark hair behind his ear, shaking his head. Another year, but one less until he could move on in life. Cole was glad he was in college, it was scores better than the constant bullies in highschool. It was his second year now and he was ahead of schedule. He’d be in an upper level compsci class with some juniors or seniors.

Scary.

Maybe there would be some other weirdo girl like him that would take pity and they could fuck, then go to Thursday’s Dungeons and Dragons like it never occurred. He’d like that. Swift and easy. Erryk Cargyll and Elinda Massey did that. But the only girl he considered ‘friend’ was Alicent and he was pretty sure she was a lesbian. Also totally not a nerd, Ali was very cool and involved.

He sighed while ducking into a seat. Criston carefully placed his stuff down at the two person desk, focusing on getting the PC ready. The instructions on the board were simple enough.

A waft of perfume and the presence of another body startled Criston. He jumped in place, brown eyes glancing over at the girl- no- woman. She was fucking hot. Like why was she sitting next to him type of hot?

“Hi,” she extended a hand, eyes roving, “Criston!”

“H-how do you know m-my name?,” he echoed stupidly, shaking her dainty hand, eyes comically wide.

She gently let go of his hand after shaking one second too long and giggled, “It’s on your backpack.” Criston blushed bright red and nodded, “Yeah, you’re right, ha-haha?” Oh God he was going to self combust. She was so hot. Like she had these patent leather boots on, a little red plaid skirt, and some tight-ass high-necked white tank.

“What’s your name?,” he managed, grateful the stutter wasn’t making too much of an appearance. She smiled and told him, baring white teeth and cherry red lips. The teacher droned from the front, “Glad you’re acquainted now, that will be your partner for the rest of the semester.”

Cole was going to jizz himself. Not in the fun way? Maybe the fun way? He was terrified. He had to tell the boys on Thursday. The beauty next to him raised her brows and flicked one of his errant curls. She whispered, “Can’t wait, Criston!”

Oh God. Oh God! He wasn’t going to make it.

“Hnghhhh, fuck yes, I am your sempai, mmm,” Criston flopped back from his hentai and laid on the bed, “Fuck. This sucks.” His cock was still hard and nothing was cutting it recently. The twenty year old’s mind was settled on his computer science partner. Who was obscenely beautiful and sexy and smelled good and so so so smart.

Oh. He was jacking off again. Maybe this was what the missing piece was. Criston closed his eyes and began to pump his cock some more, imagining her perky tits bouncing as he fucked her over a desk. He gasped sharply, prick twitching excitedly at something tangible.

He thought about the cute way she’d laugh at his dumb jokes. Or when he’d fix something in a faulty program and she’d purr, “Oh! Smart boyyyy.” He whined through his nose, squirming in place, imagining her breathing that in his ear. Criston cried out sharply, cumming so damn hard spunk reached his collarbones.

He laid there breathless, a dopey smile across his face. She was so perfect. He laid in his post-nut bliss and pondered his partners actions. For a girl older and way cooler than him, she sure did enjoy talking to him, even had his number, and they met outside of class to work on their project.

Could there be? No, no. Totally not.

The nerd thought about the times she blushed or would bat his shoulder. Or the time they nearly kissed putting together a PC. She’d merely laughed and said, “Just have to ask me!” He had a meltdown and awkwardly laughed it off. Criston did the same when she was wearing a low-cut top and she breathed, “I wore this for you today, I know you wanna look Cole.”

He sat upright with a bolt.

“Wait what?” he shouted.

“Shut the fuck up loser!,” came the reply of his apartment roommate. Criston rolled his eyes and blinked a couple more times. He still had cum drying on his shoulders from jacking off about the girl of his pathetic dreams and she might be into him? He needed a long shower and help from Ali— stat.

She came through quite quickly after he sent the SOS message. First Ali wrinkled her nose at his room and complained, “Ugh, I’m glad I brought my candles. It smells like man in here. God.” He gave her puppy eyes until the redhead exclaimed, “What?”

“You gotta help me!,” he pled, “I uh- someone likes me back?”

It was a flurry of cinnamon scented womanly magic after his admission. Bless Alicat.

The auburn haired girl swished through Criston’s wardrobe. She raised a brow at him and asked, “Is there anything in here that doesn’t have a logo or some strange wording on it? I can’t believe you just realized she was into you, I could smack you!”

He sat on the bed, freshly showered and in his briefs. Alicent and him had known each other since childhood— this was nothing new. Ali helped him type out a witty way to ask her out tonight without being too dorky. Criston eked, “I think I have some button downs my dad gave me, but they’re probably shoved somewhere.”

“Aha! Found them, still pressed too. I think this darker tan will look good,” she said while stepping out of the closet. Honors college had nice digs. It did pay to be a nerd. Criston eyed the polo shirt, leagues away from his usual t-shirts and jackets.

Alicent narrowed her eyes. He hopped up and sighed, “Fine, fine, I’m putting it on. Just lemme get the undershirt.”

Now he was clad in a nice top, some not worn-to-death jeans, and his rarely used church loafers. He was a pretty shitty Catholic. Alicent styled his wild curls, giggling, “Look at you go, who would’ve thought, you two are going to be some lookers!”

Criston rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Yeah, hoping she doesn’t mind the big neon-lit ‘virgin’ sign over my head.”

Ali snickered, “Or the nasty cartoons you jerk it too, might wanna get rid of that evidence if you’re planning on getting that far, yeah stud?”

He blanched, stuttering up a storm as she laughed. Criston grabbed all and any evidence of his…prior predilections..and hid them under the bed. In a big lockbox. Then completely wiped his browser history and any suspicious downloads. Fire walled it or whatever.

He sighed again, getting jittery, reading a text from the cutie.

‘Hey handsome, still see you in 30 on the plaza? I’m excited for the pizza and games! 💋’

Criston immediately squawked, “Ali!”

She ‘tsked’ and looked at the text. Then looked back at him with a funny look. Alicent deadpanned, “You’re such an idiot for being smart. I wish half the girls I texted were this forward. Just tell her yes, you can’t wait, you know she’s gonna look gorgeous and throw some emoji in!”

“So you are a lesbian?”

“And you’re not telling a soul!”

They pinky promised, Ali giving him a warm hug and pat on the cheek. She teased, “Luv yaaaa Nerd, don’t forget to wrap it!” He blushed and waved her off. Criston rubbed the back of his neck, glad he had such a good friend. He quickly typed back.

‘Hi- yeah I’ll see you there. I know you’ll be gorgeous, can’t wait xx’

The date had gone great. They didn’t ID either. So beers, pizza, and dumb arcade games they played. Criston probably had her up-down look at him sketched into his mind. She was in a cutesy dress herself, cut mid-thigh and a heart shaped window in the front to show her…assets. Not to forget some Doc’s he would gladly be stomped by.

“Criston, oh my god, you look so cute, who dressed you up,” she pulled him into a tight hug, whispering, “Should I be jealous?”

He sheepishly smiled, “No, just my childhood friend, she’s kinda, we’re not, you know.”

His class partner giggled, patting his chest, “No need, I gotcha. We all need those friends. C’mon let’s go!”

He couldn’t help but goofily smile down at her as they held hands walking to the pizza joint. Sometimes Criston would get so lost in his head and self-conscious, it would seem like he was always underfoot. But tonight, with her, he felt his right size. She grabbed their interlaced hands and pecked his skin, giggling.

Christ have mercy, lord have mercy. He was so down bad.

But as he said, the night went awesome. Conversation never lulled, he taught her the secret to ski-ball, and she schooled Criston in pac-man. He got his first kiss on the walk back, paused at the stoplight, waiting to walk. She pulled back and murmured, “You’ve been the best date.”

Criston, likely all moony eyes now, gushed back, “God, same, really, you’re great you know that? I’m just a bit clueless.”

She shrugged, “That’s okay. We don’t have to know everything.”

They walked near the honor’s college. They both chirped at the same time, “You uh-“ then burst into laughter. Criston grinned and ran a hand through his inky hair. He shuffled his balance and gestured, “Do you want to come back to my room? It’s all clean and female verified.”

“Lead the way handsome.”

Criston was glad for the bit of liquid courage still in his system, kissing and hugging on his ‘friend girl’? She was so sweet and touchy, it was driving him mad. He idly wondered if she was all sweet and adorable like that in bed. Thankfully his dick was tucked away.

The brunette keyed into his room, her arms around his waist, face smushed into his back. The junior cooed, “You smell good, you’re the cutest thing I swear, can’t believe this.” Criston eyed her nervously as he stepped in, replying, “You’re a catch, I can’t believe anyone wouldn’t go for you.”

She straightened up, looking into his dark eyes as she admitted, “No, it wasn’t that I was lacking…just searched for the wrong attention I suppose. You’re actually respectful.”

Criston smiled at that, snorting, “Catholic boy values I guess.”

“Or you are a good boy like I said,” she teased, thumbing Criston’s now-flaming cheeks.

“Can I kiss you again?” he eagerly asked.

They locked lips again, her arms around his neck, Criston tilting his face so his damn nose wouldn’t get in the way. His hands were politely shaking at her waist as they made out. Her tongue softly lapped into his mouth, the man gasping and returning the favor.

She moved his shaky hands down to her ass with a snicker. Criston groaned between kisses as he groped her pert ass— fuck, this was heaven! Cole walked her backwards towards the bed, pushing her back onto the freshly made covers. She smiled up at him, lips plump, the led lights from his room casting a neat glow.

“Come on then, can you get the shoes?,” she teased while shucking off her tight black dress. Criston eagerly dropped to the ground, whimpering as his hard cock painfully brushed against the fly of his pants. He quickly undid the thick boots and neatly placed them to the side.

Coming back up, he got an eyeful of pretty fucking titties and manicured hands on his waist. She purred, “Heard you down there, all good babes?” Criston nodded with a swallow and pathetic noise. She cooed while undoing his belt and pants, reminding him of the button down.

Now Criston’s lean body was on display with her own, only underwear between the two. That was perfectly dandy for him as he clambered over her perfect form, now playfully making out on their sides. Every single time his cock would graze the random throw pillow between them he’d whimper into her wet mouth, growing flustered. The front of his briefs were getting sticky.

He tried to not to rut against it, but he had a handful of fucking tit and her soft lips and noises, and Criston was only a weak little bitch! She pulled back to laugh, “You know, I’d much prefer you fuck me making those cute noises. But that’s up to you baby.”

He blinked owlishly, hand moving up her thigh to ask. “You don’t want me to uh- touch you first?”

“Sweetheart, I’m wet enough as is and we can worry about alllll that other stuff later hm?”

Criston made a gutted noise, nodding. She was right, he’d blow all over himself if he got to feel around her pussy for a bit. He rasped, “Yeah, okay, good- lemme get the condom.” He reached over her smaller frame, digging around the side table for the damn condom, trying to put his bravest face on.

Criston made a little ‘aha’ as he snagged the packet, settling onto his haunches and ripping the packet with his teeth. Meanwhile she undid her bra and shucked down wet panties, the slickness hitting his lean thigh. “Hng-fucking shit!,” the brunette accidentally moaned.

“Yeah babes? That’s all for you, here, lemme help.”

She grabbed the tacky lubed condom, rolling it on Criston, her teeth biting into a plump lip. He shuddered through the movement, taught tummy tensing and rolling as he tried to calm down. “There we go, you’re alright, just breathe sweeatheart,” the girl cooed.

Criston nodded haphazardly, easing himself onto his elbows, staring wide-eyed into her own. He wanted to blab about being a virgin, how he was scared of fucking up, how damn pretty and sweet the brunette thought she was. The beauty pecked his lips and cooed, “I know, take it easy, s’fine Criston.”

He jerkily nodded again, lashes fluttering against the faint neon lighting. Criston grabbed his cock and began to ease it into her, gasping wetly. His computer partner took over from there, wrapping soft legs around his waist, murmuring sweet nothings.

Soon he was seated inside her tight, warm, velvet pussy. Criston buried his face between her tits, sniveling and gasping as he tried to fight off every single nerve in his body screaming to let go. He tried to speak, more of a plethora of strangled whines and whimpers escaping his raw throat.

“Shhh, don’t think so much, s’okay Cris, you’re okay,” she hummed while petting soft hands down his heaving flanks and sides. Plush lips planted a kiss on his suddenly wet cheeks. God he was a mess. A whiny, flimsy, wet mess. The way she was squeezing around him made the rational part of his brain realize she enjoyed the pitiful sex still.

“Hn-okay? I- uhohgod- okay?”

She smiled and kissed him, the heels of her feet ushering Criston on. He began to pump slowly, liking the way her soft moan made his chest puff in excitement. The brunette began to build a decent rhythm, panting and moaning between sloppy kisses. He got lost in the feeling, truly.

Soon the cutie was gasping and begging, “Don’t cum yet, j-just, Criston, touch my clit, it’s the nub at the top, yes!, right there!” He listened carefully, thumbing at her swollen nub, panting like a racehorse between suckling at budded nipples. He’d ended up at a breakneck pace, completely over any pretense he was going to make a manly noise tonight.

Criston fought off his orgasm, although it was on top on him now. He moved his lips to hers again, swirling his thumb, thrusting his slim hips into perfect goddamn pussy. He gasped, “Oh, oh, oh God, m’gonna cum baby, m’gonna cummmmm!” The boy would definitely never admit he somewhat squealed.

His cutie whined excitedly under the loud sounds of the bed creaking, lean hips clapping into her softer flesh. She begged, “Right there sweetheart, mm, good boy, good boy! Right there with you!” She clung to his shoulders and tightened down, chanting Criston’s name like a litany.

Criston Cole was pretty sure he saw God when his balls drew up and he slammed back into her welcoming pussy. Sure, there was a condom, but the sophomore’s ears still rung with the choir of angels and he probably sounded like a slip of a thing getting her cunt pounded but it was worth it. So very worth it.

He kept playing with her clit until she milked him, again, crying out happily, throwing her pretty hair back and groaning throatily. “Ohhhhh, f-fuck, oh my god, mmm!,” he eloquently replied to her, feeling another little peak pass through his overstimulated system. He collapsed against her soft frame, panting softly, whimpering every other breath.

Oh god he was crying, this was not the time to be— oh she kissed it away.

“That’s alright baby, you did great, Mhm,” she hummed and nuzzled against his face.

Huh. Maybe he was in love now. Fuck hentai.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #criston cole #ser criston cole x reader #Criston cole imagine #Ser Criston cole imagine #criston cole x reader #criston cole smut

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maidragoste · 4 months

Note

anyway I have Daemon dadgirl planned because HBO robbed us 😤

Girl not only that, but also Daemon being a malewife and not with Rhaenyra, but with Laena his second wife.

In the books, unlike in the show, Daemon marries Laena without needing to ruin her reputation, but winning her hand by killing her drunk bethrothed.

Daemon marries her and they spend years travelling, HE WAS LOYAL AS HELL, HE LOOKED HAPPY AND CONTENT, and when the twins were born, Daemon brought them and Laena at court and BEGGED to his brother who was angry for his second marriage, to legitimate his daughters.

The rouge prince. The PROUD ROUGE PRINCE PLEADED TO HIS BROTHER FOR HIS OWN FAMILY TO BE RECOGNIZED.

These moments of humanity that demonstrate Daemon can be decent were cut off in favour of Daemyra or Daemon hate(look he's not my fave as well butttt me and some fans that don't love Daemon are there like: "why? With these few moments they will make him a morally grey character)

Writers were spurred by Daemon hate or racism😑(Laena and Elia get behind me! Also you too Nettles) and they say Laena and Daemon's relationship wasn't as passionate as Daemyra.

***

If you make the twins Baela and Rhaena sea dragon's daughters, I can see Rhaena being so insecure because her egg didn't hatch, believing she's a bastard, plus Daemon is being a negligent ass and sea dragon! Reader is there for blood.

Because baby is aware how it feels being judged.

Sea!dragon reader(her faceclaim is so beautiful *holds her gently*) was considered less Targaryen, especially by the good king misogynistic Jaehaerys, because of her black hair and dark purple eyes.

Then her egg, gifted by king Viserys to mend he and Rhaenys' relationship, hatched and it was the best day of her life.

Laena, PLS, let her live, let her have children! And not with Harwin but with a velaryon! cousin, then we have Laenor is living the best life and be like to his father:

"No need for me to marry father😉"

Laenor is the rich and "single" uncle that everyone loves.

Rhaenyra and Harwin marry and have the strong boys🤭 and she and Alicent makes up after a while.

I KNOW GIRL, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THE SHOW FOR HOW THEY RETRACTED DAEMON AND LAENA'S RELATIONSHIP 😫

I totally agree with you, those moments of Daemon with his family showed his humanity and I HATE that the show didn't include that.

I'm not POC so the truth is at first I didn't realize the racism in the show until I started reading analysis and everything changed for me. I honestly don't understand the point of making the Velaryon POC and then treating them like this

Now talking about Rhaena as the daughter of Daemon and Sea Dragon

Nooo baby Rhaena thinking she's a bastard because her egg didn't hatch 😭 Sea Dragon would be heartbroken to see her baby so insecure 🥺

Sea Dragon barely sees any sign of Daemon being negligent towards Rhaena and is ready to put an end to it. She is not going to tolerate her daughter being treated differently for not having a dragon.

I can see Jaehaerys treating Sea Dragon differently but at the same time it seems strange to me because her mother was also a Velaryon so perhaps it would make more sense for him to treat her differently because she is the daughter of Rhaenys and not Viserys. Like I can see the little Sea Dragon struggling to get Jaehaerys' attention while Rhaenyra doesn't even have to try.

Now I imagine Daemon and Sea Dragon roasting Jaehaerys while drinking wine lol

It had never occurred to me about Viserys giving a dragon egg to Sea Dragon but now that you mention it I LOVE IT.

I plan for Laena to have children and they will not be with Harwin. Still I can't promise if she will live and Rhaenyra will marry Harwin instead of Laenor. Sorry but for now I plan to continue having war hahaha

but who knows maybe later I'll change my mind and if I do everything fluff and happy

Thank you for writing to me and I hope you are well 🥰🥰💖

#lu speaks #hotd #daemon targaryen #laena velaryon #rhaena targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd x you #daemon's wife!au!#thanks for the ask!#ask me anything #send asks #send me asks #inbox open #inbox #sea dragon!reader

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lovepersevering13 · 4 months

Note

Now could you elaborate on Michael's autism

Alright it’s Michael’s turn!

I want to preface this part the same as before: I’m not a psychiatrist, this isn’t how autism is experienced by everyone and let me know if anything is incorrect :) oh also I’m a little bit more educated on how Autism is shown in girls so this one is a bit of a mess.

Ok so for Michael I kinda had to think for a bit about some like concrete evidence because I didn’t have anything annotated for him like Tori but I think I’ve come up with a pretty compelling argument (also I thought I’d let you know that as I was doing this I started to realise Michael may have ADHD but I don’t really go into that too much).

Firstly:

Alice Oseman herself supports this headcanon so…. Anhahahahajaja omg I can’t explain how happy this makes me! Anyway, let’s get into what I found in Solitaire!

1. Masking

- “Do you get angry a lot?” I say.

“I’m always angry,” he says.” Solitaire, Page 213

Ok we know Michael generally is a very upbeat, positive person on the outside but as we get to know him we learn he’s only barely happier than Tori. When I think about this covering up of his anger with overly positive emotions it is clear to that he is masking (Suppressing Autistic traits). Pessimism is a common m trait of Autism and the way I see it, Michael is overcompensating for this by acting super happy all the time to cover it up.

2. Deficit in social understanding

- “Do you remember when he tried to get everyone to do a flash mob for the Year 11 prank?” says Nick. “And in the end he just did it by himself on the lunch tables?” Nick Nelson, Solitaire, Page 39.

This quote when Nick and Charlie are talking about Michael shows and extreme lack of care about social consequences.

- “Michael Holden has swooped into the restaurant.” Solitaire, page 46

Ok so this quote and the entire scene on pages 46/47 where Michael shows up unannounced because he wants to ask Tori something displays extreme impulsivity and impulsivity is a common Autistic trait. He also didn’t care about the lack of social etiquette displayed by crashing a hangout he wasn’t invited to.

- “Michael is helping himself to our leftover starters” Solitaire, Page 48

Again, lack of social awareness because you aren’t really supposed to crash someone else’s dinner and just start eating their food.

- “He races inside and, without bothering to let me leave or shut the door, he lifts the toilet seat and starts to pee.” Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

LACK OF SOCIAL ETTIQUITE. DUDE.

- “He’s the strangest person I’ve ever met.” Solitaire, Page 62

- “I know Nick and I said he’s weird - and he is weird -“ Charlie Spring, Solitaire, Page 177

- “He looks sort of out of place everywhere.” Solitaire, (I lost the page)

People with Autism are often described as being “strange,” “weird,” or “peculiar,” because they are different from their peers which can make them stand out and struggle to fit in.

- “I, er, didn’t get on too well with the people there. Not the teachers, not the students…” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 148

Because of the fact that people with Autism struggle with social understanding it can be very difficult to make friends and get along with other people.

- “I’ve never been good enough,” he says. “I get so stressed out, I don’t make friends - God, I can’t make friends.” His eyes glaze over. “Sometimes I just wish I were a normal human being. But I can’t. I’m not. No matter how hard I try.” Michael Holden, Solitiare, Page 376

Yeah, this quote hurts my heart. So many people with Autism feel as though they don’t fit in and that they aren’t normal. When you don’t have a diagnosis it can be especially difficult because you don’t know why. You know there’s something different about you, you know other people are doing and feeling things you aren’t and you know you’re doing and feeling things other people aren’t, but you don’t know why. It can be super isolating.

3. Challenging Authority Figures

- “…having that argument with Mr Yates during his mock exams!” Either Nick or Charlie, Solitaire, Page 40

- “I swore at Kent.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 269

It’s very common for people with Autism to challenge authority figures. Generally this is because they often naturally assume equanimity and don’t understand why some people should get more respect then others if they aren’t seemingly deserving of it. This stems from having a heightened sense of justice and empathy.

4. Autism and Sexualtiy

- “I guess you could say I’m not too fussy about gender.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

We know Michael’s canonically Pan and as we’ve previously discussed (read Tori’s part for more info) Autism and the LGBTQ+ community are heavily intertwined. I tried to look into Autism’s correlation to Pansexuality but couldn’t find anything specific.

I also wanted to add in a little fact about how Neurodivergent people tend to gravitate towards eachother and queer people tend to do the same so Michael and Tori makes a lot of sense.

5. Special Interests/HyperFixations

Ok so, Michael gets pretty into Solitiare. Right from the start he’s obsessed. Taking photos of the posts, insisting they go to the meet up. I’d probably say it’s a hyperfixation.

And DISNEY. Holy heck Michael loves Disney… and if you haven’t caught on already, yeah imma say it’s a special interest.

- “He gasps and grabs a third DVD, leaps across the room to the flat-screen and switches it on. “We’re watching beauty and the beast,” he says.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 115

I mean look at how excited he gets over ‘Beauty and the Beast’.

6. School

- “Seriously. I haven’t gotten above a C grade in any subject since Year 8.”

“It seems almost impossible for someone like Michael to be unintelligent. People like Michael - people who get stuff done - they’re always smart. Always.” Solitaire, Page 188

- “When it comes to exams… I generally don’t write what they want me to write. I’m not very good at, well, sorting out all the stuff in my head.“

“I just don’t know what the examiners want to hear. I don’t know whether I just forget things, or maybe I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain it. I just don’t know.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 118

- “Because I hate school!” This is quite loud. He starts to shake his head.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

A lot of people with Autism struggle with school and like Tori points out, it’s not because they’re not smart, Michael is smart. It’s just that the education system isn’t fitted to benefit Neurodivergent children. So many things affect Autism in schools. The dreadful sensory environment, lack of control over what they can and can’t do and the difficult social pressures.

7. Emotional dysregulation

- “He clenches his fist and he snarls. He actually snarls at me.

“Maybe you are a manically depressed psychopath.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 163

Emotional Dysregulation is the inability to control the intensity and expression of emotions. This is common in people with Autism and can result in overly intense emotions and lashing out. I think this is something that heavily impacts both Tori and Michael and results in a lot of their arguments. The aforementioned quote is just one example of how quickly and dramatically their arguments blow up due to this.

- “His face contorts into a kind of scrunched-up snarl, his fists curl, his skin drains of colour, and he storms past the man and tramps over to the benches. He reaches a row of lockers and looks into them, blankly, chest visibly expanding and contracting. With an almost terrifying malice, he throws a crazed punch at the lockers, wailing a subdued howl of rage. Turning, he hurls a kick at a pile of racing helmets, scattering them about the floor. He clutches his hair, as if trying to pull it out.” Solitaire, Page 211

Oh there is just so much to cover here. So this is a prime example of an Autistic meltdown. Autistic meltdowns can be caused by overwhelming emotions (In this situation that is Michael loosing his race) and result in an outburst which can include crying, screaming (“howl of rage”), aggression (punching the lockers and kicking the helmets) and self injurious behaviours (Pulling his hair). It’s probably worth mentioning that a few of the outbursts he has towards teachers that I mentioned earlier are probably also meltdowns.

8. Stimming

- “Michael starts whistling.” Solitaire, page 198

Whistling is a form of stimming, this particular quote is from when they are in Truham looking for Charlie, considering Michael’s disdain for Truham I can imagine it was a slightly stressful environment to be back in which would validly result in a need for stimming. I actually couldn’t find any other examples of stimming except possibly the hair pulling that was mentioned in the last quote.

9. Pattern Recognition

So pattern recognition is the autistic brains increased ability to recognise patterns and in Solitaire Michael is the first person to put together the fact that all of Solitaire’s pranks were related to Tori. I really can’t be bothered to find the quote where they talk about those

10. Safe foods

I think that Tea is probably a safe food for Michael because he is often mentioned to have a mug of Tea in his hands. (But I’m not British so maybe this is like normal? How much tea do British people actually drink?)

1. Miscellaneous Quotes

- Since when did you acquire a body temperature” Solitaire, page 112

I know it’s probably supposed to be related to figure skating but struggling with temperature regulation is very common amongst people with Autism.

- “Most of the time at school I can’t even decide what pen to use.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, page 149

Indecisiveness is very common amoungst people with Autism

Alright that’s a wrap on Michael Holden. I’m thinking of doing a conjoined part for Charlie and Oliver if anyone would be interested in reading that :)

Some of the resources I used:

https://livingautism.com/decision-making-problems-adults-asd/

Thermal Perceptual Thresholds are typical in Autism Spectrum Disorder but ...

https://sparkforautism.org/discover_article/managing-emotions/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7430467/

https://neuroclastic.com/autism-and-responding-to-authority/?amp

#michael holden #Michael Holden Solitaire #tori and michael #tori spring #autistic Michael Holden #autistic tori spring #autism coded #autism coding #autism headcanons #autistic Headcanons #alice oseman solitaire #Alice Oseman #solitaire book #heartstopper season 3 #heartstopper book #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper #nick and charlie

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ilovemilfsthings · 6 months

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──── ✰࿒࿎྇ ༃࿐ ‘unwanted groom’

, , ,

ೃ࿐ ANGEL TARGARYEN wedding

«you will thank us in future»

… … … angst ; shit parenting ; unwanted marriage in young age

, , ,

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ “BUT SHE IS STILL A LITTLE GIRL” alicent loud voice was perfectly heard by angel who was eavesdropping on her parents' conversation without shame. she knew that her father wanted to find her a husband. maybe she wasn’t his dreamed daughter, but it would be a shame for the entire family if she were without man for her whole life. so he needed to find a solution, and he found it easier and faster than he thought. daemon targaryen was his solution, he knew that it would be a good man for his daughter, because it’s his brother after all. plus, the targayen lineage would be still continue, so everyone will be happy.

“alicent, she’s six-and-ten, she is of perfect age” viserys said, with annoyance in his tone. he doesn’t understand why his wife always needs to make a scene, even about something as small as this. “i decide that she will be daemon’s wife, the conversation ends right there”

after these words, a single tear flowed down angel’s cheek. she couldn’t believe that she would end up being her old uncle’s wife. she tolerated him, but she wasn’t ready for a marriage, she wanted to stay unmarried for as long as she could. she didn’t want to be a mother, god, she couldn’t imagine herself in bed with daemon.

but she was also aware that she had to accept this, there was nothing she could do.

, , ,

“why aren’t you dancing with your husband?” viserys asked his daughter, who was staring at her goblet for a few minutes now. “stop being dramatic, you know you will thank us in the future” he added as he drank more of the mead.

“as you wish, father” she responded sarcastically, with a fake smile on her face. finding daemon wasn’t hard, he was drinking with people she didn’t even recognise. angel wanted to pass by daemon and go to her chamber, but her plans were easily ruined by her ‘husband’ who sat her down on his knees with a wide smile, which made the girl uncomfortable.

“there’s my beautiful wife, where were you?” he said laughing, and angel frowned a little because of the alcoholic breath he had at the moment.

“i was talking with guests” she said, trying to sound at least a bit happy.

“you’re going to be a great hostess, aren’t she?” he laughed again, holding her wrist tighter. “i didn’t saw you dancing tonight, we have to change this” he said.

normally she would agree to this without saying a word, but she couldn’t look at daemon the same, knowing that he was now her husband. she wanted to act like always, but she felt disgusted all evening.

“you’re barely standing, are you sure you want to dance?”

“honey, i’m perfectly fine now and i would be perfectly fine during our wedding night” he said the last sentence with a seductive tone, which made angel imagine all the things she didn’t want to see. it made her stomach hurt, and without warning, she vomited everything on daemon’s robe.

she really wasn’t ready for this marriage. what have you done viserys?

, , ,

✧. ┊so let me know how you liked this one!

#imagines #angst story #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #alicent hightower #daemon targeryen x reader #game of thrones #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #forced marriage #hotd daemon #daemon targaryen #ocs #my baby #daemon x reader

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kckt88 · 5 months

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The Day Love Returned I.

Summary:

The Princess reawakens and longs to reunite with her love.

WHAT IF VAERA DIED INSTEAD OF AEMON?

AU of Dynasty!!

Warning(s): Sorrow, Grief, Anger, Dragon Battle, Death.

Word Count: 3600

Author Note: A companion piece to Courtship/Wedding & Consummation/Bath Time/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/ Rooks Rest & the Silver King/The Gullet/Taking of a City/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye/The Fallen Queen/New Beginnings/Ravenous/Don't Leave Me/Another Plane of Existence/Gēlenka Zaldrīzes I/Gēlenka Zaldrīzes II & Gēlenka Zaldrīzes III.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“Congratulations Princess, you are with child again” said Maester Orwyle.

Vaera smiled as she placed a hand on her stomach, it would please Aemond greatly to know that his seed had once again taken root and another child grew within her.

He’d been enamoured with the twins when she was pregnant with them, and she knew he would be just the same with this babe.

Mayhaps they would be blessed with a little girl. A sweet Princess, with silver curls.

Picturing Aemond with his long silver hair unbound, sitting in front of the fire with a tiny baby girl nestled against his bare chest, made Vaera’s heart burst with every ounce of love and joy she could muster.

Of course, she had wanted to tell him immediately, but he was busy in a council meeting with the King and landed Lords of the realm, so their happy news would have to wait until later.

So, Vaera decided that she would visit the nursery and spend time with the children, no doubt Helaena and Alicent would also be there.

It would be good to spend time as a family, there hadn’t much time for such things lately, the war for the Iron Throne was raging and times were dangerous.

Especially after the mysterious death of her younger brother Lucerys, it was driving Aemond to distraction, trying to prove his innocence and find the real culprit.

Perhaps the news of a child would be their beacon of light in the midst of a dark world.

Smiling to herself as she opened the door, nothing at could have prepared Vaera for the horror that was about to greet her.

Vaera felt a sudden sharp pain in her chest, she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath.

Suddenly she was on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, she could hear screaming and shouting, but it was muffled.

Then Aemond was gathering her into his arms, and she felt safe.

Using the last ounce of strength she could muster, Vaera lifted her hand to Aemond’s scared cheek.

She wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t form the words as the blood slithered from her nostrils.

A moment later, the last of Vaera’s strength ebbed away and her hand slipped from Aemond’s cheek, falling down by her side.

“A-Ae-Aem-“ rasped Vaera.

Then everything went dark.

There was no sound. There was no pain. There was nothing.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaera as she lurched forward, her hands immediately going to her head as pain lanced through her entire body.

“Easy Princess”

“W-Who are you?” asked Vaera, her limbs shaking.

"I am a High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis, the Flame of Truth, the Light of Wisdom, and First Servant of the Lord of Light, but you may call me Kinvara”

“W-What am I doing here?” gasped Vaera.

“Your dragon brought you here” replied Kinvara.

“W-Why?” exclaimed Vaera as she looked down and saw the raised and slightly pink moon shaped scar over her heart.

“You were murdered” replied Kinvara.

“M-Murdered?” asked Vaera.

"Your father made the arrangements" said Kinvara.

"D-Daemon he was-" gasped Vaera.

"The one who killed your brother" said Kinvara.

"W-Why would he do that?"

"The man seeks war and blood. He did what he thought necessary in order to facilitate his desire" muttered Kinvara solemnly.

Vaera stared at the Red Priestess, her father was responsible for Luke's death and in turn hers.

Suddenly it all came flooding back, the men who came through the wall, the terror, the screaming, the children, the flash of the dagger, the sting of pain as it penetrated her flesh.

Her sons. Her sweet boys. What had happened to them?

“Aemon, Rhaegar” said Vaera desperately.

“Relax Princess, your sons live” replied Kinvara softly.

“H-How am I alive?” asked Vaera.

“R'hllor, the Lord of Light saw fit to return your life, I am merely a servant of his will”.

“You brought me back? why?” gasped Vaera.

“Se bōsa bantis iksos māzis. Hen aōha ānogar māzigon se dārilaros bona istan kīvio, se zȳhon jāhor sagon se vāedar hen suvion se perzys” (The long night is coming. From your blood comes the princess that was promised, and hers will be the song of ice and fire).

“Dārilaros?” asked Vaera (Princess).

“Daenerys jelmāzmo hen targārio lentrot” (Daenerys stormborn of House Targaryen).

“When?”

“Many years from now, your fifth great granddaughter will ascend the Iron Throne and unite the realm against the enemy in the North” replied Kinvara.

Vaera wanted to laugh at the absurdity of what Kinvara was saying but how could she when she had taken a dagger to the heart, and now she was alive.

“I-If this Princess who was Promised comes from my blood, then what about Aemon or Rhaegar surely they would carry on my bloodline?” asked Vaera.

“Aemon has his part to play as do we all, but it is not just him. It is the babe in your womb”.

“S-Surely the babe did not survive my demise” muttered Vaera, her heart despairing at the thought of losing her unborn babe.

“No, she didn’t but as you now live so does she” replied Kinvara smiling as she placed a hand on Vaera’s stomach.

“S-She?” questioned Vaera.

“A girl with silver curls and the eyes of her father, the youngest Targaryen in history to ever claim a full-grown dragon”.

“T-This is a lot of information to take in” muttered Vaera.

“I understand Princess, but you must know of what’s to come” urged Kinvara.

“What else is there?” asked Vaera.

“A Targaryen must be seated upon the Iron Throne. You must ensure the survival of your house lest it fall to ruin” said Kinvara, her face grim.

“F-Fall to ruin?”

“The war for the Iron Throne rages many lives will be lost. The dragons will grow weak and die, Kings of the mighty house of the dragon will become just like everyone else. No wonder, no awe. Only pain and suffering until a dragon falls on the banks of the trident and a stag will rise” said Kinvara.

"A-A stag-House Baratheon will claim the Iron Throne?" gasped Vaera.

"The crowned stag will be devoured by the lion" replied Kinvara.

"The Lannisters?" said Vaera grimacing.

"Unfortunately so Princess, the lions will reign whilst the last Targaryen hides in the east” said Kinvara.

“H-How do we alter our fate?”

“We stand at the precipice of destiny, there needs to be death for others to live” said Kinvara.

“Who’s death?” asked Vaera, not entirely sure she actually wanted to know the answer.

“Do you really to know of such things Princess?”

“I thought you said I needed to know of what’s to come? asked Vaera.

“Learning of death will only cloud your judgement. You need to remain free of such constraints, but it may please you to know that your sons will live long fulfilling lives”.

“What about Aemond?” exclaimed Vaera.

“Your husband grieves for you” whispered Kinvara.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it” snapped Vaera.

“Silver stained with crimson, a sister of darkness piercing amethyst. A last remnant lost to the eye of the gods”.

“What?” questioned Vaera.

“Or many babes born from the seed of the gēlenka zaldrīzes” whispered Kinvara (Silver dragon).

‘gēlenka zaldrīzes’ Vaera closed her eyes, remembering when she called Aemond that for the first time.

“A sister of darkness piercing amethyst, a last remnant lost to the eye of gods what does -“ trailed off Vaera suddenly realising what Kinvara was trying to tell her.

The sister of darkness was Daemons Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister. The last remnant had to mean Vhagar, and eye of the gods was-

“Harrenhal. The Gods Eye. Aemonds going to die” cried Vaera.

“Possibly” replied Kinvara.

“I-I must go to him. He needs to know that I’m alive” said Vaera urgently as she tried to climb off the alter, but her legs gave way underneath her and she collapsed to the ground.

“You are not yet strong enough Princess. You must rest” said Kinvara.

“B-But my husband, he needs me” cried Vaera.

“You will return in time. But for now, you must remain here. With us” replied Kinvara.

It took some time before her strength had fully returned to her, and all Vaera could think about was Aemond and their sons.

Twice she had tried to mount her Cannibal, but her stubborn dragon had remained steadfast in his refusal to take her back.

Of course, through the bond she could feel that her Cannibal was elated that she was alive, but there was an undercurrent of sadness and despair.

She came to realise that her death had hit her dragon hard, she was the first person he’d ever bonded with, and their hearts were so entwined that she knew his refusal to return to Westeros was his way of keeping her safe.

But she would have to return eventually, and what she would return too she didn’t even want to think about.

It was selfish of her that much she knew, but all that mattered to her was Aemond and their children.

The babe that her husband didn’t even know she carried was healthy and hale, there were many midwives and Maesters in Volantis that would give her regular check ups and every kick her unborn daughter gave her was surely a blessing.

But her heart did not stop yearning for her husband and their sons.

To think of them grieving her death whilst she still lived made Vaera cry herself to sleep most nights.

Vaera imagined what she would feel if Aemond died, and it was like a huge hole had been punched through her chest. The devastation seeped into the very core of her soul, as she envisioned holding her husband’s lifeless body in her arms.

It must have been how Aemond had felt when she died in his arms, her mind conjured up a hundred possibilities of how he was dealing with his grief. Each as unlikely as the next, but she couldn’t help but consider Otto Hightower and his actions following her death, with everyone believing that she was gone, would the Hand of the King seek to find Aemond a new wife, to further solidify Aegon’s rule as the rightful King of the seven Kingdoms.

She knew the Lord Hand was as slippery as an eel, and he would need to make as many alliances as possible, and the only way to do that was via marriage.

The thought of Aemond being sold off made her blood boil, he was hers and hers alone.

Cannibal sensed her ire through their bond and let out a rumbling roar that shook the very foundations of the great Temple of the Lord of Light.

Vaera never ventured beyond the spot that Cannibal had claimed for his nest.

She was a stranger in this land, and she did not want any harm to befall her or the babe she carried.

Volantis was a large free hold, divided in two halves by the Rhoyne. The western side of the city is open to foreigners, traders, and merchants. The eastern side contains the inner city, which is protected by 200-foot-tall black walls.

It truly fascinated Vaera, as did the history of to Volentese people and their dealings with Aegon the conqueror.

Of course, she had read many books when she was a child, yet nothing could have truly prepared her for the wonder and grandeur of Volantis.

Aemond would love it here, soaking up every bit of history that he could. Perhaps one day they could come back for a visit.

As her mind once again drifted towards her husband, she hoped that he was coping, and the boys were ok. She missed them all so much.

It pained Vaera greatly to simply sit and wait for the right time to return to Westeros, but Kinvara was insistent she should not return before she was meant too.

Vaera suddenly felt movement in her rounded stomach, and she smiled, she had a piece of Aemond was with her and she would cherish it with every fibre of her being.

“Have no fear princess. Your husband will not seek another marriage” said Kinvara as she approached a lit brazier.

“You don’t know his grandsire; he moves people about the board as he sees fit. If he decides to gain favour with some of the more fickle Lords, the only way to achieve such a thing would be through marriage and Aemond is the only one free of such things at the moment”

“You have no need to fear Otto Hightower, the green snake is not long for this world” muttered Kinvara as she stared intently at the flames.

“He’s going to die?” asked Vaera curiously.

“It’s as I said Princess, there are those that need to die in order for others to live”.

The question of who else was going to die was on the tip of her tongue, but Vaera kept her mouth shut, the less she knew the better in that regard.

“Although, there is another who will desire your husband’s touch” whispered Kinvara.

“Who?” asked Vaera scowling.

“A bastard witch of the woods”.

“Aemond would never-“ said Vaera.

“-Not even for the promise of victory over his enemies?” asked Kinvara.

“No, he wouldn't. My husband is a man of loyalty and honour” replied Vaera sternly.

“She see’s much and more within the flames, the lady Alys. She will make your husband an offer, but the price of such a thing is far more than your gēlenka zaldrīzes will be willing to pay” muttered Kinvara her hand moving gently through the flames (Silver dragon).

“Price?” questioned Vaera.

“The seed of a dragon is a valuable thing, almost as valuable as blood” said Kinvara softly.

“S-She wants my husband to give her a babe?” exclaimed Vaera.

“A pointless endeavour. Your husband is as you claim. He will refuse the witch, his heart forever yours, even as it withers in grief” replied Kinvara.

Vaera let out a muffled sob, her hand on her chest. How much longer must she be separated from her love?

“As the sun rises and the moon turns, you shall return to the arms of your husband”.

Vaera sighed in relief and nodded, making a silent vow that when she was once again in the arms of her husband, she was never going to leave.

The sun had rose and the moon had turned, Vaera couldn’t contain her excitement as Kinvara confirmed that today was the day she was free to return to Westeros.

Expressing her gratitude to Kinvara for everything that she had done for her, Vaera promised that one day she would make a return visit with her husband.

Kinvara merely smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaera’s forehead.

“Take care of yourself Princess”.

“I will and may the Lord of Light find my gratitude” replied Vaera as she eagerly mounted the Cannibal.

Vaera raised her hand towards Kinvara and after taking a deep breath, she gave her Cannibal the command to fly and for the first time in months, her dragon readily opened his huge black wings and propelled himself into the sky.

Vaera shared one last look with Volantis before it disappeared into the distance, it felt good to be flying again, even more so now that she was headed home. But she couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving Kinvara.

The Red Priestess had facilitated not only her return from death but her unborn babe as well, and she had also supported her in her most vulnerable moments.

Sensing her sadness through their bond, Cannibal gave a concerned chirp as he pushed himself high above the clouds.

“Don’t worry about me my sweet” said Vaera loudly.

Cannibal in his attempt to cheer her up, began to dive through the clouds, roaring loudly as he disturbed a flock of birds, and for his sheer size, his speed was impressive.

Of course, Cannibal was not quite as large as Vhagar, but he was close.

In the hours that it took to fly back to Westeros, Vaera had Cannibal take rest breaks as she knew it wasn’t fair to try and make him fly the entire journey in one go.

Despite his previous reluctance to bring her home, Cannibal now seemed eager to return. She wondered if he was missing the other dragons, sure he’d mated with Dreamfyre, but he definitely had a soft spot for Aemond’s grumpy granny dragon.

At the thought of Vhagar being a grouchy granny, Vaera let out a small snigger, she definitely reminded her of those mean old ladies that would sometimes sit at court that would hit you with their walking sticks as you walked past.

Perhaps it was for the best that she kept that information to herself, as she didn’t think Aemond would appreciate her opinion of his old girl.

After many hours of flying, Westeros finally appeared on the horizon.

As she passed over the Gullet, Vaera half expected to be greeted by the dragon Meleys but neither the Red Queen or her grandmother appeared, then she spotted the charred ruins of the Velaryon fleet, the masses of wreckage moving back and forth with the waves.

What else had happened whilst she was away? Who else had met their end?

At that moment Vaera wanted so desperately to return to the Red Keep, but she couldn’t there was somewhere else she needed to go first.

So, with an air of determination, Vaera aimed Cannibal in the direction of Harrenhal.

As she’d been sequestered away in Volantis, Vaera wasn’t privy to any information on the war, unless Kinvara saw fit to inform her, but even then, it wasn’t significant details.

So, of course Vaera had no idea which dragons were still alive or where they would be located.

So Vaera made sure to avoid flying close to Dragonstone just in case.

As they flew over Duskendale and then Rosby, Cannibal suddenly gave a load roar and lurched forward, lashing his teeth in a fury like she had never seen.

Though the bond, Vaera could sense his agitation and anger, something was wrong.

Could he sense trouble ahead?

Eventually the ruins of Harrenhal came into view.

The sky was alight with the flames of two battling dragons.

Now Vaera understood her Cannibal’s urgency.

They were almost there.

“Hold on my love. I’m coming”

Caraxes was faster than Vhagar, and the deadly Blood Wyrm launched his first snapping attack at Vhagar’s hanging jowls, narrowly missing, and pulling back as she breathed a jet of blazing fire at him that missed Daemon by inches.

The Blood Wyrm rose high into the sky, hovering above Vhagar.

Vhagar with her experience in battle, managed to manoeuvre herself towards Caraxes, she bared her sharp fangs, snapping at the Wyrm and sunk her teeth into his neck, spilling the dragon’s boiling hot blood, putting herself directly in range of Caraxes’ claws.

The Blood Wyrm raked his talons across Vhagar’s stomach, splitting her open.

Yet Vhagar was stubborn and despite being in pain she did not let go and in her fury, the ancient battle-hardened dragon sunk her fangs further into the neck of Caraxes.

Refusing to let go.

Aemond looked up in terror as Daemon stood in his saddle.

Suddenly a load roar echoed through the sky.

Aemond gasped in disbelief as the Cannibal descended from the clouds, almost like a ghost in the night.

His wife’s dragon, darted towards Caraxes, and collided with the two entwined dragons, using the bulk of his weight to free Vhagar from Caraxes claws.

From the sheer force of the attack, Daemon was flung from the back of Caraxes and fell towards the waters of the Gods Eye.

Vhagar tumbled through the sky, wriggling furiously as she tried to right herself.

Managing to free himself from his chains, Aemond threw himself from the saddle just as Vhagar crashed into the water with an immense splash.

Aemond was immediately sucked underneath the surface of the water.

Cannibal lashed his razor-sharp teeth deep into Caraxes neck and shook his head from side to side.

The Blood Wyrm shrieked and desperately tried to claw himself away from Cannibal, but he was no match.

With one final snap of his jaws, Cannibal ripped the Blood Wyrm’s head from his body.

Caraxes, now dead, dropped through the sky and plunged into the water.

The force of the dragons dead body hitting the water, had propelled Aemond towards the surface.

Using every ounce of strength he possessed, swam as fast as he could.

Coughing and spluttering as he finally broke the surface of the frigid water.

Vhagar, who had astonishingly survived, was now resting on its grassy edge, clearly dazed from the wounds she’d sustained and her collision with the water.

But at least she was alive.

In his exhaustion, Aemond collapsed when he made it to shore, his face pressed against the mud and silt.

Daemon had also survived his fall, as he crawled along the muddy banks of the God Eye before he finally freed himself.

His face covered in blood and his right arm hung painfully at an awkward angle.

The ground then shook as a dragon landed in front of him.

Daemon looked towards the Cannibal and smiled.

“Daughter. We believed you to be dead” rasped Daemon grimacing in pain.

“Yet here I am” replied Vaera firmly.

“Here you are” repeated Daemon.

“This is the end for you. Father” said Vaera.

A father’s eyes briefly met his daughters before the command was given and he was engulfed in flames.

Vaera watched silently as her father’s flailing ashen body slumped forward.

All that was left of the mighty Rogue Prince, was his charred bones. His sword Dark Sister laid in the grass, the Valyrian steel glinting in the sunlight.

Vaera descended down the Cannibals wing and took a deep shuddering breath.

She had made it in time, Daemon was now dead, and she just hoped that Aemond wasn’t too severely injured.

Cannibal trilled slightly as he hovered over her protectively.

Vaera turned around and came face to face with Aemond, who was stood stunned as he stared at her, his mouth hanging open.

“V-Vaera” exclaimed Aemond in disbelief.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #aemond one eye #prince aemond #hotd fic

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equallyshaw · 4 months

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𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓲𝓷 𝓻𝓮𝓭 | 𝓶𝓪𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝔃𝓪𝓵 𝓪𝓾 ↠ weekends with the martins! - blurb ↠ au masterlist! ↠ word count 1.3K little longer than i wanted lol ↠ warnings: one swear word!

when olivia found out that mat out of all people, was being invited to her weekend with the martins- she was understandably annoyed. she was ticked, even. "you're kidding." was the first thing out of her mouth this morning, once sydney told her. matt smirked as he took in sydney's reaction, "why? what happened between you two?" sydney responded with a slight teasing tone. olivia rolled her eyes, "nothing happened." she said before sipping her hot coffee. sydney pressed, "well it doesn't seem like that. he left shortly after you went upstairs...if something did we won't be upset. right hun." she said whipping her head towards her husband who just nodded. "nothing happened, and if he said something did- he's lying." olivia rasped, before turning on her heel and heading over towards winnie in the playroom. sydney and matt looked at one another with a knowing look and in a hushed tone, "do you understand how many questions he's been asking about her? she said something to him and it's captivated him." matt said and that made sydney giggle. "y'know you did the same exact thing, right?" she teased before leaving him and alice in the kitchen.

a few hours later, the martins, mat and olivia were walking through east hamptons after a quick ride up east. it had snowed a few days prior, and the small historic beach town made olivia's heart swell. she absolutely adored new england, and this was close as she could get before going back out west. mat had barely said anything beyond greeting her, much to the redheads surprise. she believed he would ramble in her ear to death, but so far he's been respecting her space. "hey our friends invited us over to their place. is that ok? the kids will get tired out before we drive home." matt announced, as they walked back to the car after eating a late brunch. olivia and mat nodded, while helping get the two kiddos in the car. olivia hopped in the back first and buckled in winnie as sydney buckled in alice. "come on dude..let us buckle you." mat teased winnie, who shrieked in response. "dude." winnie repeated, as she let him buckle her. "yeah dude." matt repeated which caused winnie to laugh loudly once more. mat situated himself next to the girl, on the other end of the three seater. she could feel him staring at her, before looking away. she looked up at him, and took in his pink nose and rosy cheeks. she saw the sharp jawline creeping out from his winter jacket. he also had soft dark locks, poking out from his beanie - no toque - as he called it. she found herself staring a bit too long, and quickly looked away. not without mat noticing ofcourse.

matt drove them about 15 minutes away from downtown, and the group pulled up to a quintessential new england style house, making her smile. "are these the wilsons?" olivia asked unbuckling winnie for sydney, and sydney nodded. "yep, they're from the cape originally." she hummed and olivia giggled, "really? couldn't tell?" she teased referencing the hosue, causing sydney to smile. sydney knew just how much olivia adored new england, and the safety net it provided. as kids, that was there happy place away from the hustle and bustle of the football season, and there- the two could be as wild and free as they liked. mat let her out of the car first, after the two kids exited. as soon as olivia and mat began to walk up the pathway, olivia hit a small patch of black ice, and olivia quickly fell back with mat catching her just a bit. "woah..not so fast." he teased as his arms instinctively found her back, as her legs were taken out from under her. she clutched her chest, not believing that she hadn't fallen on her ass. "you good?" sydney asked concerningly, as she looked back after hearing a small shriek. "uh yeah." olivia said shaking herself from mat's grip. "you sure?" he questioned, and she looked back at him for a brief second. she responded with a small nod, before stepping around the ice and following the martins up the pathway.

"ive heard so much about you! im alyssa!" a tall brunette said, pulling the young girl into a hug. "you as well! im olivia." the redhead smiled, before turning back to make room for mat. "now I've heard so much more about you!" alyssa gushed causing sydney to chuckle at olivia's reaction. "our little ones are a HUGE fan." alyssa added and mat smile, "lets meet the gremlins." he joked, causing alyssa and her husband to laugh. "lets go!" alyssa said pulling olivia by the hand into the house, behind everybody.

the two toddlers, mat and olivia found themselves outside a little while late. olivia and mat pummeled each other with snowballs, making the two young ones laugh. "im getting you esiason!" he yelled, running after her. she shrieked once he grabbed ahold of her, and then the two fell over into the packing snow. "you minx!" olivia screamed, causing the two little ones to giggle. they made their descent onto the older pair, just as mat stared down at olivia. her pale freckled face, completely red and her button nose was deep red. "oh were getting you!" olivia screamed, pulling herself away from his gaze and towards her niece. olivia rolled herself out of his hold, and stood up holding out her arms pretending she was gonna scoop winnie up. mat picked up lily wilson, and twirled her around causing her to laugh loudly.

sydney and matt watched from inside, as the hosts grabbed some light cocktails. "god he is so smitten, its nauseating." matt said causing sydney to laugh loudly. "too bad she doesn't like him." sydney responded, taking ahold of the glass. "no?" alyssa questioned and sydney shook her head. "no she cant stand him, though- we suspect something happened between them at new years but both of them have been zip." she said shrugging. "oh yeah, if she doesn't like him- talk about chemistry." alyssa pointed out, before they heard the backdoor open.

the 6 of them headed back down to long island, and the martins offered the extra bedroom to mat who gladly accepted it, after an 11:30 pm arrival time. much, much later than they had anticipated. "can you show him the room and stuff?" sydney asked without waiting for an answer, while mat and her slipped upstairs to put the kids down. olivia sighed, before looking towards mat who was already staring at her. "are you 5 or can you find it yourself?" she questioned, annoyance lacing every word. she didn't wait for an answer, and headed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

"what do you have against me, huh? you've been nothing but rude today." he said following her, hot on her tail. she sighed, "can you not? im not in the mood." she said beginning to drink her water. he shook his head, standing his guard as he leaned against the counter island. "you don't want me to say how i really feel, because it'll hurt your feelings pretty boy." she countered, and he chuckled. "so you find me attractive, who'd a thought?" he teased and she groaned. "you and you're goddamn arrogance." she rolled her eyes beginning to walk out. he grabbed her softly by the arm, and she waited a few seconds to look back at him. "see you around canadian boy." she taunted before pulling away. he watched her go and headed up the stairs a little bit later after collecting his thoughts.

then those sane and rational thoughts went out the door when he opened her door by accident and not his.

may have to write something about that ending...hehe

@toasttt11 @cillianthinker

#mat barzal #mat barzal au #seein red au #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #matt martin #new york islanders #nhl #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey blurb #hockey #equallyshaw masterlist

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lullaebies · 9 months

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What do you think about Helaena's portrayal in the show? Idw to ask about Aegon's portrayal because he was the one that get fucked up the most even if they wanted him to be the main antagonist of the show there were many "more complex and interesting" ways to portray him. But what about helaena? There is always something wrong in Helaena's character in the show for me, in many ways she does seems to be a caricature of the trope of the weird prophetic princess.

This is going to be an essay. Buckle up.

As endearing and easy to feel for her circumstances she is (and the show is how I got to know her, I liked her to begin with regardless and I read Fire and Blood only after watching), I feel like the show failed her tremendously, not only by falling into the trope you mentioned, but perpetuating stereotypes regarding neurodivergent people as well as making Helaena a victim before bothering to make her a person. Let me get into it one by one.

The trope of the neurodivergent girl with powers, to begin with, is obviously a somewhat uncomfortable trope that hints neurodivergency doesn't have a place to be unless it is accompanied by powers of some sort. The idea of neurodivergence being inherently magical is harmful in a detracting kind of way. That already kind of leaves a bad taste in the mouth as both the neurodivergence and dreamer plotlines were added without textual evidence in F&B, so the mix is probably deliberate to create 'she's more than what meets the eye' type of character. Doesn't work as well in today's sphere of things.

Now, I wouldn't care nearly as much about the trope if they bothered to make her more than just her prophecies and her neurodivergence. They could've had their cake and could've eaten it if they gave her actual lines that speak of how she feels about what's around her and in what situation she's in. Every single line she has in the show is a prophecy, save for exactly two: her speaking about her millipede to Alicent (because her hyper fixation is the only she cares about, apparently) and her roasting Aegon at dinner (which was a serve, but was once more only there to serve she cannot converse like a normal person and to show she is a victim). We have absolutely nothing about how she feels as a person, as a sister, as a mother! They barely gave her a chance to react to Driftmark, we don't know if she was scared about her wedding and what is happening to her, we don't even get her saying what she thinks about her visions! We have zero framing of anything. We see nothing of what the book describes her as: Why was she described as a happy girl? Why people agreed she would be a lovely mother? Why did the smallfolk like her, why was her death their last straw? Who is she, aside from bugs and weird mumblings? Autistic people have thoughts and feelings and many of them can express them in an even better way than people without autism (I worked for 4 years with autistic adults, and I'm pretty sure I'm on the spectrum myself - anecdotal evidence it is, but there was no reason to not let her have actual character moments.) Many people in this fandom are convinced she is not able to hold a single conversation with anyone - it's atrocious and offensive.

And then we have the victim discussion, which only packs it in further. She is shown to be a perpetual victim in the show, pretty clearly to vilify Aegon (who frankly is also a victim of the marriage, but we don't get to talk about that). She has been stripped of all her agency; in the books, she talks smack about Aegon in a humorous way, she sits on his war council and advocates for peace, she is a good mother who is hands-on with her children and consistently portrayed with them. She has a life, and meaning outside of being a victim, she's active. When you think of a princess who claimed the largest dragon living in the dragon pit, don't you at least think she is courageous? that she has a sense of life in her, to drive her to do such a thing? And she could've done all of the things she does in the book, with the dreamer plot and the neurodivergent characterization all the same, and that is what drives me insane. These were additions, but they didn't have to overwrite Helaena as a whole.

We don't get to see her truly live, and care about the things she loves. When B&C happens, we are going to see an autistic woman brutalized and her children hurt and murdered many people would cheer for it, without the necessary preparation of showing how much she cared about the children, without showing any conflict of hers to take the mantle as Queen, without her ever showing or thinking about these complex situations she's been put in. She's not allowed to have an opinion politically, at least not so far - she's not allowed to have as much voice as her brothers do and she's not allowed to be taken seriously as Queen Consort as Rhaenyra is taken seriously as Queen, which is such, SUCH a shame, because if we had a smidge of comparisons between the two sisters we could have had them be proper foils, which is interesting, and not to the detriment of either of them!

To conclude; they sprinkled on Helaena tropey traits, made her lines be more or less summed up as cool foreshadowing, and erased the traits that would've made the crowd find her endearing and relatable as a person. (and I have theories about it, but I won't get into it here). They failed Helaena not because of the additions themselves, but because they refuse to take her place as a woman in this story seriously, as well as refused to flesh her out beyond the surface-level tropes. She could've been so, so much more, and I can talk about it for hours, but choices have been made. Her arc deserved to be built up better, as did her character, and it's very frustrating.

#answered #i hope it works here because it won’t let me post on laptop #OMG IT LET ME POST THROUGH PHONE THANK GOD #anyway sorry this ended up a vent anon i just have a lot of feelings about this

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