#i must make my own father-son content or these two | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvvixu · 4 months

Text

satoru's little contentment

content: husband!gojo, reader has a son with him along with megs and miki, the beef between megs and toru is real you can't argue with me, teeth-rotten ig?, i'm having a baby fever for a while now huhu, blaming my gf cuz she keeps on showing me baby vids on tiktok—now i want one... not proofread, too lazy, maybe later lmaoaoa

nothing makes gojo satoru content other than seeing his own family here with him.

like at this moment, his family were just hanging around in the gojo estate garden where it used to be boring but now there's a life into it after marrying you. and you, who has a deep love for gardening stuff, you decided to give the house a makeover.

"these are the water lilies that mama planted when she was pregnant with you." with your son in your embrace, you pointed the different types of plants you personally plant.

satsuri was amazed by the colorful plants while you watched the carbon copy of your husband's blue eyes glisten in awe. your heart melts when you see your son tries to communicate with you with his babbles and hand gestures.

planting a kiss on his fluffy cheeks, you couldn't help but to let out a laugh on how adorable your son is. "ooh. i can't wait for the two of us to plant together! we could fill this whole estate with plants and even flowers!" you squeal.

your son tries to wiggle himself free as he would like to be down for a moment and play with nature, or should you say.

satsuri ran around while satoru, who was casually sitting under the tree, watched his loving wife and his adorable son grab some stones using his small tiny hands and give them to his mother, seemingly asking if he could eat them.

"baby, we cannot eat those." your giggly voice echoes in his ears pleasingly. your baby sensed something that was against his will as his lips formed into a pout and was about to cry when you immediately picked him up to console your poor baby.

"these are rocks." you grabbed the stone on his hand, gently tapping his skin using it. "see? these are hard and sharp too. one stone could hurt you, it could hurt you more if you eat it." you tried to explain it to your son well. sadly, he still didn't buy it.

satsuri let out a wail, tears are also now streaming alongside his face. being a protective mom you are, you immediately console your son while walking towards your husband to also ask for some assistance.

"oh no, my little tough guy is crying. did mama fight you? don't worry, your amazing dad will avenge you." satoru takes his son into his hold, cradling him while giving you a meaningful look.

"hush your trap, why would i even fight my own baby?" you snarl at your husband who was just laughing at your expression. satoru knows you hate it when you're making your child cry. although it is something that you should get used to in order for your child to grow morally, not spoiled.

satoru then looked down at satsuri who was now calm after being cradled in his father's embrace. everytime he would look into his son, he would always say in his mind that they were right — you were right, satsuri is really a carbon copy of him.

the only feature that his son inherited from you is a streak portion of your hair color on the side of satsuri's hair. then the rest, it resembles him.

on the contrary, satoru wished satsuri wouldn't inherit his ignorant, nuisance, troublemaker, and hard headed personality when he was way back younger. the man specifically doesn't want his son to experience the things he does inside the jujutsu world.

basically, all he could have wished and asked for is that satsuri must have inherited your soft, kind, and loving personality. those every trait of yours that made him fall in love with you. and now, that got him staring at his son for too long, hoping that satsuri would grow just like you.

hell, if he could only forbid his son to avoid being a sorcerer, then he would! but he knows in the end that satsuri would be the one who will decide his faith.

"oh, it's three in the afternoon. it's my turn to pick up gumi and miki." suddenly, you wake him up from his daydreaming session. with a hump, you stand up along with satoru.

"let's pick them up together. it would be nice to see satsuri pick up his siblings too." satoru suggested and you liked the idea. without any further, you two head to your car and drive away. you are the driver right now, of course.

"mom!"

as soon as you exit the car, you see tsumiki waving and smiling at you as you watch her skip her way towards you with megumi trailing behind her.

you kneel down to greet them in your arms. "hi, my babies! how's school?" you asked them, still giving the two your big warm hugs.

"it was fine. my friends and i gossip a lot during our break time and i can't wait to share it with you." you are tsumiki's number two gossip buddy (satoru is the first one, definitely) since both of you are female. most likely, there were times where only the two of you would understand since it's a girls thing.

"how about you, gumi?"

"just a normal one." your other baby boy answered, megumi is still wrapping his arms around your body as you sensed the fatigue in his voice.

"come on, let's head back to the car." you're about to stand up but megumi still refuses to let go. smiling to yourself, you know what he wants so you picked him up and carried him in your arms.

immediately, megumi planted his face on the crook of your neck while tsumiki volunteered to carry his bag — what a sweet girl.

"my sweet gumi must be very tired. do you want me to set up a futon in the backseat?" you cooed.

"yes please." megumi snuggles like a kitten in your embrace, making you smile and giggles at his cute tactics.

tsumiki giggles too at his brother's behavior. both of you know megumi was more fond of you among all. ever since satoru bought them home, megumi finds himself getting more attached to you and sees you as his mother figure.

the three of you proceed to the car. as tsumiki opened the door, she was greeted by a man and baby's voice who seemed to be laughing.

"tsuri! you're here!" tsumiki's face instantly grew brighter at the sight of her little brother. while megumi, his head instantly shot up from your shoulder at the sound of his other brother's name mentioned.

"hello satsuri." despite the sleepiness in his voice, there's still a hint of excitement in his voice.

"hey! i was here too!" the other baby — i mean, satoru pouted when his two children didn't even bother to greet him the way they greet satsuri.

megumi instantly snarls at satoru while tsumiki was kind enough to greet him with the same energy. your husband raises his eyebrows when he realizes that megumi was literally clinging on to you, again.

satoru doesn't have a problem with that, but there's a time when megumi would literally steal your attention away from him when it's just both of you. he just feels that megumi was doing it on purpose. behind his back, he knew megumi would smirk at him or even stick his tongue in his face.

"megs, i'm going to bring you down for a moment. i'll just set up the futon for you and tsumiki." when you get approval from your son, you bring him down and start to do your thing with the help of your husband, of course

you saw your three children playing with each other near the car. you told them not to go far away or they'll get into an accident.

"say, i'm not really in the mood to cook. should we take the kids outside for dinner?" you suggest as you flatten out the sheets of the futon. while satoru was busy double checking the safety of the bed.

"sure, it would be nice too since you've done a lot for us everyday. rest is also very important too, hm? don't forget that, my little wifey." you rolled your eyes but still smiled at his cheesy tease, but you knew satoru was just concerned for you, especially.

"okay, let's go home. it's still early and the kids need to do their assignments." you called out for your three kids who are excited to lay down on the set up futon.

your kids instantly find their spot inside as satoru starts the car. it was him driving this time since satsuri wants to be fed from you.

"sweethearts, did you wear the safety belts?" your two babies nodded. whenever you guys would set up the futon, satoru modified the space with safety belts just in case any accidents would happen, the kids would not be harmed.

looking at your children again, you saw megumi was already fast asleep as soon as he lay down. while tsumiki was watching some miraculous ladybug on her ipad. satsuri was unfortunately not with them since he's still a baby and it's very dangerous to let him sit without any supervision of grownups.

"ouch! don't bite too hard on mama, satsuri." you winced when your son bit your nipple a bit harder than the usual sucking, making satoru look at you in worry.

satsuri was now growing his teeth, so it's a double challenge to endure his sucks. thankfully, satoru was there to remind his baby to suck properly even though satsuri could barely register a word.

"satsuri, milkies are supposed to be suck carefully. want me to demonstrate it to you?" your husband is a bastard as he playfully mumbles the last statement, making you glare at him instantly.

"satoru!" if only he's not driving, you would've smacked the hell out of him. satoru just managed to let out a laugh while keeping his eyes on the road.

thank god, megumi was fast asleep and tsumiki was too engaged on her show, while satsuri is still a baby. but that is not an excuse to behave in such a way in front of your children.

"oopsie daisy! i'm so sorry, my wife. didn't mean to be very voluntary." satoru laughed at his own joke. you just snarled at him and just focused on your baby who was getting drowsy at any minute.

the rest of the ride was fine. just satoru humming a pop tune that he heard over the radio, tsumiki is still busy on her show, megumi was snoring lightly, satsuri is now fast asleep too, while you stay as you.

"baby, can we get some cakes? i am craving for some."

"no. you have to wait after dinner." you deadpanned. seems like his sweet tooth is kicking again. it makes you reminisce when you're still pregnant with your youngest. satoru was craving food more than you do and it somehow confused you.

"but baby—"

"the kids would not properly eat their dinner if they proceed to dessert first. you have to wait, satoru."

"okay." the only available choice for satoru is no choice. that's why his pout is longer than usual, good thing you're getting a bit immune to that. but that doesn't mean you're always enduring his puppy eyes.

sooner than later, the whole family was now home. satoru was carrying the sleepy satsuri while you're carrying the sleepy megumi and tsumiki was walking on her while carrying the bags.

satoru refuses to leave his eyes on you as you walk inside the house. he made a comment on how clingy megumi is and you shouldn't be carrying him because the little boy's now growing.

you replied to him that it's fine and you want to carry him while you still can. like he said, megumi was now growing and you want to cherish those moments to its fullest. satoru was softened by your words. but that doesn't mean his concern about you lessened, so he suggests that he would be the one who's going to carry megumi.

however, your middle child refuses to be held by your husband, that's why both of you ain't got no choice again but to let megumi be carried by you.

"you should've just left him sleeping on the pathway." satoru mumbles. you just shoot him a knowing look because another war would break out if megumi found out that satoru talked about him behind his back. thank goodness, megumi was a heavy sleeper.

"you agree with me, right, satsuri? that your older brother should've just sleep outside?" satoru whispers to his son. it was audible to you, so you're not sure if it was intentional for you to hear him say or not.

somehow, it brings a small smile to your lips despite his silliness, you know he didn't mean that at all. stroking megumi's hair just to make sure he's comfy in your embrace, you decided to counter his words.

"and you'll be sleeping outside too if you keep on teaching my son bad behavior and talking crap to my other son too."

part 2?

©luvvixu2023

#SATORU IS SO HMM #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #anime #fanfic #fluff #luvvixu #megumi fushiguro #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jjk #jjk fluff #megumi #fushiguro tsumiki #tsumiki

705 notes · View notes

pupcuck · 3 months

Text

BELL JARS AND BUTTERFLIES !

ft. infinite darkness!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. emotional abuse, mom-son incest, power dynamics, sub leon, some references to past physical abuse not explicit tho, few drug references, p in v

note. hai :3 put id leon cuz that’s who i saw but!!! u can think ab whoever u want :3 thank u to @devilmayfuck for proofreading oh my gosh :3 still ignore mistakes bc I tend to make em while formatting! feedback n rbs so appreciated <3

tumblr removes fics that, for example, use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

It’s no surprise that Leon breached contract and put his dick in his shrink. He tends to do these things around women that sound like school teachers. To be fair, the contract wasn’t his to breach, she’s totally taking advantage of his vulnerability or whatever.

“You still live with your mother, Leon?” It’s a statement, not a judgement, he takes offence either way.

“She’s sick,” Leon says, and it’s a bold-faced lie, they both know that she, his shrink, has his file. That you’re well and alive. He doesn’t like to talk about you to her. Mainly because what you have done to him is private, no one else needs to know, it’s the only thing no one knows about him— The only thing that’s not written across his dossier in bright red is that he and mommy have a less than sound relationship. It’s the only thing that is his.

“Sick?” She’s not much older than you, and she’s not as beautiful as you.

“Sick,” He confirms, and it’s not far from the truth. Physically sick, nah, but Mommy might be, she certainly is, the biggest narcissist Leon has encountered in all twenty-eight years of his shitty life, and that says something. ‘Cause Leon works with the US government. He’s owned by them, actually, to say he’s working would be a lie— He’s been owned all his life, first by mommy, then by work, and Leon has started to think it’s always going to be this way. That it’s okay because he doesn’t have to dissect, ache and hurt like he does when he’s thinking.

When she tries to probe further, as it is her job, her duty, in the same way it is Leon’s duty to save the world on any old Monday, he leaves. The apartment is his by lease, but Leon has never stayed long enough to call it a home, he’s never considered it anything more than where you are.

His fist knocks against the lacquered wood, and you answer a minute or so later. It doesn’t suit you. Trying to fit in with all the D.C career women, prim and polished and intelligent, that’s just not you. At your core, mommy is trailer trash through and through. Your smile is artificial, and your nightgown is too, it’s ill-fitting, the only thing you’ve worn well is his father’s anger. Leon thinks that if he wasn’t so full of the milk of compassion, whatever it is Lady Macbeth said, he would help you out. Show you what you’re truly worth. Unfortunately, all Leon would like, all he has ever wanted, is his mommy.

“Leon,” Your concern comes sparingly, so he takes what he can, head dropping to your shoulder. He melts. You’re about as friendly as a loaded gun, but Leon’s got suicidal tendencies and all that jazz. “Baby, what happened? You look so thin, my goodness, you must weigh less than me.” It’s true, looks like he weighs seventy pounds soaking wet. Skin stretched thin over his bones. Teetering from left to right on ankles so thin they’re ready to snap. “What’s this? Looks expensive.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in his appearance, tracing the fabric of his Armani tie with tenderness you have never given to him.

“Ma,” Leon mumbles into your neck, he stumbles past the threshold and the door clicks shut behind him. All he wants is a kiss or two.

“Leon,” You say his name the way you did before, “That’s not my name, darling, you used to be such a good boy.”

“Mommy,” He corrects himself, it’s always been mommy and no one else, “I’m sorry for— I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s not your fault, baby,” Whether he comes or goes, you don’t care, your flippant nature drives him insane. “You’re too much like your father.”

He is not. If Leon was anything like that man, more scum than blood and flesh and bones, your face would be in the concrete. But Leon is your son, and he is who you’ve made him to be. Cowardly. “I’m sorry,” The words dry up in his mouth when your nails rake down his clothed chest, a soft whine slips from the base of his throat, like he’s a dog. Then you scratch behind his ear, and he really is a dog, tail between his legs and everything.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Mommy says, and you pout at him— Did you get your lips done? The money wired over to your account is for necessities. He’s a civil servant, there's nothing classy about that. You piss him off. You do. But you’re his mommy, and he loves you.

The bed smells like you, it was his once, but you take over every aspect of his life. Eat away at any part of him that isn’t appropriate by your terms, a vetting process harsher than the DSO’s. Now Leon’s here, faced with the same hole he crawled out of. The same hole he wishes to crawl back inside. It was safe in there. Warm and quiet. Darkness cradling him like you never have. The one place in which he cannot move, speak or be. The closet he can get to that is stuffing his dick inside.

“Outside clothes on my bed,” You tut, lifting back the covers so you can undress him, “What’s this?” In your hand is an orange tube that you’ve swiped from his back pocket. Leon blinks as you squint at the label. “Oh, darling, you don’t need these, let mommy keep them safe, alright?” Leon nods. That was a new prescription, paroextine, fluoxetine made him a smidge less suicidal, meaning instead of wanting to drive his car off the side of a bridge anytime he got in, he simply drove without a seatbelt in hopes of being crushed to death by a thirty-two tonne truck. Natural selection or whatever. Side effects were shakes, to the point where Sherry was worried he went and got himself put down in the Guinness World Records Book as the youngest recorded case of Parkinson’s disease.

“I need those, ma,” His voice breaks when you tuck them into your bedside cabinet, facing him with your beautiful, cruel smile.

“You don’t need them, Leon,” You gesture for him to come closer, he does, presses his face into your tits, and lets you tell him what’s right and wrong. When it’s coming from you it will always be wrong, but he’ll listen anyway. “It’s not real, baby, you know that, don’t you? I thought you were smarter than this— Shouldn’t be wasting all your money on therapy of all things, I mean, you go to talk for an hour and that supposedly makes everything better?”

“Mm,” Leon makes a noise that is both a grunt and a hum. Please, for the love of god, shut up and get him off— Do something. Hold him. Comfort him. You’re his mother.

“Then they want you to take all these pills-“

“They’re meds, ma,” He corrects for the sake of his— Well, for the sake of nothing at all. Not his ego, not his dignity, they have been depleted completely.

“Meds, huh? You can get addicted fast, and then next minute you know, darling, you won’t be able to function without them- You’ll be like a zombie.” You kiss the top of his head, cooing softly when he raises his head to look up at you like the sad, wet dog he is.

“It’s not crack, ma.”

I know you wish it was.

For an indolent lady who spent half her time doped up on what could only be described as sludge, putting morphine in his milk bottle, you do talk a lot of shit.

“Hah,” Your face changes, you laugh anyway, “You’re so funny, Leon.” You tell him, and he thinks, obsessively, that he would do anything to hear that laugh again.

“Thanks, ma,” Leon’s unrest is mollified by the featherlight touch of your hand on his bare chest, your nail drags down his sternum, as if you’re splitting him in half. It digs into the toughness of his abdomen, he squirms, “That feels weird,” He mumbles, unable to voice out his dislike properly.

“Leon,” You sigh heavily, heavier than his cock in his briefs, “You don’t feel anything, my sweet thing, you’re all empty inside.” He’s a bell jar waiting for its butterfly.

“My poor baby, look at you, can’t do anything without mommy.” Without mommy Leon doesn’t know how to be a real person.

“Can’t eat,” You trace his ribs, sticking out in odd angles through a yellowed layer of skin, “Can’t sleep,” The hollows of his face, his sunken eyes, they tell you everything, “Can’t even breathe without me, can you Leon?” Without mommy he has to be kicked in the gut so his lungs remember what it’s like to breathe. He has to constantly be on the verge of death to know what it’s like to live. “It’s so tiring, darling, I’m too old to be taking care of you.”

“Mommy,” Leon pleads, helplessly, the only manner in which he can behave is helpless.

“Baby,” You toy with his waistband, “You need mommy to help you feel, don’t you?” Feeling should be innate to a human being, shouldn’t it? “Even when you were a baby, Leon, you only cried when mommy did, I used to think it was sweet, but now, darling, it’s gotten a little old.”

Leon whines softly, animal-like, caught by the ankle like a hunted stag, “I’m sorry, mommy— I can’t help it.”

“Oh, it can’t be helped, Leon,” Mommy says impassively, because it is such a chore to jerk off your mentally stunted almost thirty-year-old son. It’s not his fault. He didn’t choose to be this sex-mongering freak that needs to be punished to get off, to not feel ill— To be alive. You started it, and Leon’s sure you’ll end it. Brought him into this world, and you’ll take him right back out of it. At the drop of a hat too.

Your nail, red and glossy and a tad too sharp, presses into his leaking slit. One hand curled around his jaw, the other down his pants. You fish his cock from his boxers, “Mommy was waiting for you,” That makes his chest ache, knowing that he had crossed your mind even once for just a split second, god, he could die a happy man, “Every time you leave I get so worried, I start thinking, well, gosh, how is my Leon doing without his mommy?”

Bad. He does bad in general. Around you it’s bad. He is entirely bad at all times, at every minute, every passing second. With you it’s less bad.

“I just miss you,” Leon says, helplessly beyond help.

“All the time?”

“All the time,” He agrees.

“Oh, baby,” You coo.

“Do you… Did you miss me?” He asks, breathless, twisting in your grip like he’s fitting. Your touch is a million pinpricks on exposed nerves. There's no answer, you just stroke his dick instead, and his moan shatters like an ice fractal. Leon wants to ask and beg and demand— He turns stupid too quick when you cup his balls, squeeze ‘em hard.

“So noisy,” Mommy spits on her palm, real classy, a bit of your whore heritage comes out— See that, it’s a real Kennedy move, dad would be proud. Then you get his cock nice and wet, pumping his shaft as he leaks through the gaps in your fingers. “My sweet boy, you used to be so cute. I miss when you were blonde— It happened to your dad too, it’s a shame.”

“Sorry,” Leon says as if it is his fault natural progression took place, his hips bucking upwards into your fist, schlick, schlick, schlick.

“Well, there’s no need to be sorry about it, you can’t do anything about it, Leon,” Well, at least you’re sane enough to know that, “You know what you can do, darling?”

He shakes his head, abs contracting, balls tightening, ready to blow—

“Clean up before you come to see me,” Your hand is gone, his dick twitches like there’s a parasite inside of it waiting to burst out, “I’m not stupid, Leon,” Your palm sits on his cheek, looking at his stubble with distaste, “And you should shave, look too much like your dad otherwise.”

The scruff is purely out of neglect for his appearance. Leon has never put much thought into it, no one’s ever complained, he’s fuckable. Very fuckable. So fuckable— It’s just you. Mommy says and Leon scrambles to do.

“Off you go then,” You shoo him away, force him to pick his discarded clothes off the floor, he tosses them in the laundry basket. His shrink left the print of her brown foundation on his collar— That’s what you meant by clean up.

In the bathroom cabinet he finds a packaged razor covered in a film of dust. His hand is shaking, nicks his chin once, the sting is not half as bad as your touch. When Leon returns, the nightgown is off, folded neatly on the side, he almost trips over getting to you.

“Mommy,” Leon mumbles around a mouthful of tit, like a proper stupid baby, dumbed-down to fit mommy’s taste.

“I know, baby,” You kiss the crown of his head, stroking over until your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh, there is just nothing inside of you but that big ol’ heart, huh?” It’s true. He’s empty but his heart. A heart that turns on its hind legs, rolling over onto its back for mommy and mommy only.

Leon hums, suckling on your nipple like he’s going to get milk out of it. “Can I—“ Leon lifts his head, ducks back down to avoid your scathing gaze.

“Can you what, baby?” You thumb his bottom lip, nail grazing his teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” He says, because he would like to fuck you.

“That’s not how you talk to mommy,” You go to push him off, but Leon shakes his head, and he is stronger— He is, he pins you down, presses his face into your neck. An apology that you accept.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” He’s trembling, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, didn’t mean to talk like that— I’m sorry, please, can we-“

“Fine,” You cut in, and he knows that mommy is a slut. More so than him. That you want it just as bad, you just like playing games.

Leon’s lips part when the tip of his fat cock sinks into your heat. He wishes that your hole would gape like the maw of a beast and swallow him up David Cronenberg style. Wouldn’t that be so fun?

There’s a falter in your breath when he bottoms out with a squelch. You try to be this way, so unaffected, but Leon knows that you’re a glutton for cock. Not his alone, which crushes him, any old dick would do for his mom. It’s how she got by way back when.

“I love you,” Leon moans into your mouth when let him kiss you for the first time tonight, he savours it, lets the taste linger, “I love you, mommy.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pull him closer so his cock is deeper, hitting your cervix with the fat head. The most he can do in your grip is move his hips back and forth shallowly, never allowing more than an inch out of your sweet cunt. It’s suffocating and yet he loves it. Your love is a cage. Contains him. Leon licks the droplet of salty sweat that trickles down between your tits, he spurs his hips forward, fucks you with all that he’s got— This is all he’s good for, just good to give you your fill of dick. That’s why you had a son.

“You can do it better than that, Leon,” You’re panting, eyes glassy as you smile your gorgeous smile at him, “I know you can.”

With a grunt, he fucks you with fervour, balls slapping against your ass, all the nasty shit you love. His dick jumps inside of you, and you gasp, biting down on your tongue as he slams into you once, twice, thrice— Oh, it's so over. Leon can’t help it. Mommy’s pussy is so warm, so hot and wet and tight. Your disappointment is tangible. No need to hide it.

We can work on that, his shrink usually says to mask her annoyance at his premature ejaculation.

Mommy just shakes her head while frowning.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” Leon’s body jolts, hips still moving despite the oversensitivity, his cum makes your cunt sloppier. He fucks it back into you like the filthy boy— man he is, so set on making you come undone that it comes across as a little freakish. Like he’s in a trance or some shit. “I’m so- I’m so sorry, mommy— Didn’t mean to— Fuck, I’m sorry, sorry—“

“Leon, stop that,” You place a hand on his chest. He stops. Leon is good at that. Taking instruction no matter how life-threatening, no matter how embarrassing, he’ll do it to be worth something.

“I’m so sorry,” He croaks, truly humiliated by his dick’s lack of selflessness. Shit just cums without Leon telling it to do so.

Mommy pats his head, “It’s okay, baby, you’re only a stupid little boy, aren’t you?”

Leon nods. Mhm. Mhm. Yup. Yup. That he is. Mommy’s stupidly depraved little boy. Just makes sense.

God, yes. “Yes, mommy,” Leon finds himself face to face with your cunt. One that popped him out. A well-beaten yet pretty pussy, because all of you, to Leon, is beautiful no matter how worn out. He parts your cushioned lips, teeth tugging at your labia as he dribbles his spit over your fat pussy. His cum sticks to your inner-thighs, a shiny trail that dries up before he can lick it up and spit it back onto your puffy cunt.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at his hair till he’s sure the roots have weakened and now he’s even more prone to male pattern baldness than he was before. Leon focuses his attention on your clit, it’s small and fleshy on the tip of his tongue, the more he sucks the more you drip drop and fill his mouth with your slick. Crazy that is. The clit. It’s just a gift that keeps on giving. And it's good both ways. Leon gets to quell that urge, the sucking on a tit urge, and mommy cums so hard her thighs snaps shut around his head. Your back bows off the bed, and god dammit is he proud.

With the lower half of his face covered in your wetness, Leon re-emerges to kiss you. “That’s enough, darling,” You tell him after the fifth and final kiss. He holds onto it. He just wants you, his mommy. Is it so bad to want?

“I love you, mommy,” Leon says for what might be the third or hundredth time of the night.

“I know, darling,” Your nose bumps his, “I did miss you, Leon, if I’m being honest.”

“Really, mommy?” His heart skips a beat or two. God, it might’ve fucking stopped. Then he’d just be a doll of some sort. The rarest collectors doll that mommy could put in a glass case and show off and dust off— Well, to think she’d care enough to dust him off, Leon has a bit of an overactive imagination.

“Really, darling.” Mommy nods, and he’ll take it. He’ll take it and treasure it.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil angst

194 notes · View notes

thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months

Note

Hello lovely!! Would you ever do a part 2 to Bad Idea right? Maybe the IC finds out about reader and Eris? 👀👀

I had planned for Part 1 to be a drabble only but I loved your ask so much that it’s going to be a short series now! I present to you, part 2. Thank you for this fun request!

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 2

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Sleeping with a male your dad hates is fun… until you get caught.

A follow up to the drabble “Bad Idea, Right?”

Part 3

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, language

Holy mother and all the bullshit gods my ancestors prayed to, I’m so royally fucked.

A necklace. A damned necklace, and my family’s overall inability to mind their own business, sent everything spiraling.

Nobody paid any mind to the jewelry I chose for Starfall until Amren set her eyes on the unique amber and gold hued necklace dangling from my neck - coveting the thing. Its unique jewels apparently something she’d never seen in her over 15,000 years of living.

Lucien, who had come with Vassa, Jurian, and Helion in tow, of course, overheard the conversation. With his wealth of knowledge and abundant need to be the biggest know-it-all in the room, Lucien chimed in that the gems came from the Autumn Court, typically only worn by the leading family and their closest affiliates. His brows furrowed with contemplation as he waived a hand toward my décolletage asking, “Which makes me wonder, where did you come across this piece?”

Damn it, Lucien.

And damn it, Eris. Leave it the prick to give me a gift that’s as much of a pain in my ass as he is.

Reading the look on my face, Lucien and Vassa’s son, my childhood best friend, Adish cut in- “Oh, I uh, I gave it to her for her birthday a couple of years ago. I’m surprised you two forgot.”

Lucien and Vassa looked to eachother in contemplation, not totally buying it, but not pressing further.

I mouthed a “thank you” to Adish before Amren pulled me back in to inspect the piece further.

Naturally, Uncle Rhys had step in at that moment - reusing the same joke that I have heard a hundred time since I was a child - Amren is a firedrake who will snatch the necklace right off me blah, blah, blah.

“It really is a lovely piece.” Aunt Feyre joined in, my mother, Aunt Nesta, and father with her. The three sisters inspecting it closely.

Holy shit, have these people never seen a necklace before?

I could have sworn that one of my shadows rolled it’s not existent eyes in agreement.

“Where did you get that?” Dad asked. “Apparently I need to keep it in mind for your mother and aunts for Solstice.”

“Oh, um, it’s from the Autumn Court, Adish gave it to me two years ago for my birthday.” I replied, innocently tracing a finger along the gems as I gave a forced smile.

It was then that my all-to-observant, spymaster jr., little sneak of a sister made her presence known. “No he didn’t! Adish got you a scarf from the continent that year.”

How the hell did this little shit remember these things!?

“Whatever, Azalea, it must have been a different year then.”

“No sissy! He never bought you a necklace - he bought you a bracelet, and two pairs of earrings, but never a necklace.”

Good gods. This child.

Rolling my eyes at my snoop of a sister, I coolly replied “Whatever, Azzy, I suppose my memory isn’t quite as good as yours.” Silently praying to whoever would listen that nobody pressed further. Dad’s shadows agitated but settled when my own shadows wound over to mingle with them.

Amren gave me a suspicious look that could only mean trouble - but fortunately kept her mouth shut. As the remainder of the group dispersed to interact with the crowd, Amren grabbed my arm.

“Be careful, girl. I know better than to tell you what to do, just… keep your wits about you.”

Her intense eyes locked with mine to which I shrugged the comment off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I am not a fool, girl. I do not know you to be one either. Be careful.” the tiny fae chided as she sauntered off to find Varian.

Keeping a collected facade but needing some fresh air, I casually made my way toward a secluded balcony on the backside of the House of Wind.

Finally free of the crowd, I released all of the tension I’d been holding in, taking deep breaths in an effort of calming my nerves. I am an adult capable of making my own choices but… given the inner circles complicated history with Eris, and my fathers overall hatred of the male, I’d rather nobody know that we fuck each others brains out on occasion.

Frowning down at the necklace, I muttered curses to it that would make my mother, dear sweet Elain, keel over.

Too wrapped up in berating the jewelry, I didn’t notice the male behind me. I startled at the smooth voice cutting through the silence, his low tone dripping in lust. “Ah, little Shadowsinger, If you’d prefer a ring instead, I’m sure we could arrange that. Though I do say the necklace compliments your lovely assets quite well.” His eyes roved hungrily up and down my body, a primal gaze darkening those amber eyes and filled my core with heat. I nearly rolled my eyes back into my head as the intoxicating scent of mahogany and crackling fire filled my nostrils.

Regaining my wits and refusing to let him see how he effected me, I met those bedroom eyes with nothing but contempt. “Fuck off, Eris. Why are you here?”

He stepped closer. I stood my ground, no way was I going balk away from the challenge.

“Come now, little one, is that any way to speak to a High Lord? I was invited to the celebration tonight, as all of Prythian’s leaders were.”

Fair enough, but I wouldn’t let him win that easily. Waving him off, I commanded “Go find somewhere else to be a pain in the ass.”

Eris closed the distance, grabbing the wrist I had waived him away with. His head dipped down as his plush lips grazed the shell of my ear. His deep, sensual voice sent chills through me as he replied, “I can only promise pleasure when it comes to that beautiful ass, Y/N.”

Releasing my hand, Eris reached both hands around me, palms pressing into my ass as his fingers hitched my dress up to expose my thighs and barely clothed cunt to the brisk evening air. In one swift motion he scooped me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around him. As his lips crashed into mine I bit the lower one just hard enough to draw blood before licking it away and kissing the hurt. His tongue then swooped into my mouth, battling for dominance against my own, a low growl escape his throat, reverberating through me.

Placing me on the balcony ledge, Eris situated himself between my spread legs, desperately palming at my breasts as I threw my head back to expose the column of my throat to him. He lightly nipped down the length of my neck and my protruding collar bones before falling to his knees before me. His lust-filled eyes met mine as he cooed, “You could bring any male to their knees before your beauty, but this…” he pushed aside the lace thong, exposing me to him, “this gorgeous, dripping cunt belongs to your High Lord, and your High Lord only.”

His skilled tongue deftly swiped up my center, eliciting a moan from me. I looked down into his eyes - mesmerized by the amber hues peering at me from under his lashes. My fingers found purchase in his fiery red locks as I firmly stated, “I belong to no one and you are not my High Lord, Eris.”

His responding nip to my swollen clit drew a sharp gasp from me. Eris let out a satisfied hum in return as he resumed feasting like a starved male. Perhaps that’s what kept drawing me back into the bastards bed - his insatiable hunger fueled by that eagerness to please that only amplified with the calloused remarks I threw at him. Most females fell at his feet - throwing themselves at the chance to serve a High Lord. Whereas most males ran as far away as they could upon realizing that my father was the infamous Shadowsinger.

One of my shadows caressed the base of his neck, circling back around as to tilt his chin up. His needy eyes met mine again. “Fuck me, Eris.”

In an instant he was up, standing before me. Biting my lip, I clenched my thighs together at the sight of the incredibly evident arousal pressing against his trousers. He fumbled with the buckles on them, when suddenly a grating sound filled the air - the balcony doors flying open. “Sissy! Aunt Mor wants to see your neckl- oh wow, who is that!?”

Fuck me. This cannot be happening.

I jumped up, pulling my dress down before my little sister could see the exposed flesh.

I scrambled for words, voice cracking as I scolded, “She can wait, Azzy, just go back inside.”

It was too late though, as my father’s shadow that had been trailing her all evening had already reported back and before Eris or I could flee, my father, mother, Uncle Rhys, and Lucien winnowed onto the balcony.

————————————————-

Stay tuned for part three!

313 notes · View notes

sheeple · 5 months

Text

Miracles don't exist | 30: Battle of the Astronomy Tower

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Dumbledore's death A/n: Another year complete. I'll be taking a break as usual from posting to finish the story. 24th of December will chapter 31 be posted. But before that time I've got a little extra content for y'all :)) [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Theodore is quick to send a spell flying towards the Death Eaters. But it's easily deflected by Bellatrix Lestrange. You try to get out of bed, grabbing your wand that lies on the bedside table. But your legs give out under you and you land painfully on your knees.

You crawl towards the closest wall and hoist yourself up, raising a shaking arm and ready to defend yourself and Theo. "What," huff, "do you", huff, "want?", you ask, out of breath.

You already know the how, but now the why. Why here with you? And not hunting down Dumbledore.

With a flick of the wrist, Fenrir Greyback comes stalking toward you, a sinister smirk on his face. You yelp and fire a disarming spell, but it bounces off of him.

Theo's quick to jump over the bed and stand in the way between you and the werewolf. He puts an arm in front of you, which you hold on for support.

"Isn't that just the cutest?" Bellatrix laughs cruelly, the other Death Eaters joining her. "The little fiancé is protecting her."

You wish you had more strength, you wish that you weren't so exhausted so you could stand up to her. But instead, your legs shake and the hold on your wand is weak. Even if you wanted to protect yourself and Theo, your spells would be weak.

"I won't ask again. What do you want?" You raise your chin.

She grins, walking towards you. She throws Theodore away with a flick of the wand against the wall and grabs your face, digging her filthy nails into your skin. The two of you stare in silence, daring the other one to look away.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Theo clambering up. You give in and look at him worried.

Bellatrix takes this as a victory and rips her hand away from your face. "Take them", she orders to Greyback.

The werewolf picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You trash against his hold, but it's useless as your feet dangle off the ground and Greyback just marches on. A Death Eater holds Theodore at wand point and makes him drag his body off the floor.

You're disorientated as the group moves through the castle, upstairs and through doors. Until you finally feel the cold breeze of the night air and you're being put down.

Draco stands in front of Dumbledore at the top of the Astronomy Tower, his wand pointed towards the elder man.

"Well... look what we have here." Bellatrix halts the group, her eyes trained on the pair. She moves towards your cousin, whispering, "well done, Draco."

"Good evening, Bellatrix." Dumbledore seems unbothered like he has been expecting it. "I think introductions are in order, don't you?"

"Love to, Albus. But I'm afraid we're a bit on a tight schedule. Do it!", she hisses towards Draco, the boy's hand shaking.

You try to move forward, but Fenrir's hand wraps around your throat and holds you in place. You move your hand to the side, reaching out to see if you can grab Theo's hand. But he's too far away from you.

"He doesn't have the stomach, just like his father. Let me finish him in my own way", remarks someone to your right.

"No! The Dark Lord was clear, the boy must do it."

There is some creaking from down below you, and you glance at it. Your breath stops as you spot a reflection in a pair of glasses. Harry. The two of you make eye contact and you slowly shake your head, scared of what will happen.

Bellatrix storms towards Draco, leaning close to him. "This is your moment. Do it. Go on, Draco! Now!", she bellows, clearly getting impatient.

Draco quivers, his face morphed in anguish. The grip on his wand tightens and you swear he's going to do it. He's going to kill Dumbledore.

"No." Professor Snape appears from nowhere, making everybody turn towards him.

There is a moment of silence and shock until the headmaster breaks it. "Severus... please", he begs.

The former Potions Master raises his wand and fires off the killing curse. Avada Kedavra rings in your ears as a flash of green light hits Dumbledore. He flies off the railing and you scream. You launch out of the hold of the werewolf and rush towards the railing, watching how the man drops from high until his body hits the stones below.

You clutch a shaking hand over your mouth. Bile rises in your throat. A pair of hands snatches your shoulder and you get pulled towards the stairs. You watch how Bellatrix fires the Dark mark into the sky with a celebratory yell.

The Death Eaters move swiftly towards the exit of the castle, destroying everything in their path. Everything is a blur until you're outside and Hagrit's hut is in flames.

"Snape! He trusted you!" Harry comes barreling down the hill, wand in hand and fury in his eyes. He fires spells at the man, getting angrier every time Snape deflects them. Until he yells, "Sectumsempra!"

You let out a shriek, clutching your hands over your ears and crouching down. You brace for the impact, the pain. But it doesn't come. Instead, you're pulled to your feet and dragged towards somewhere.

You disappear in a flurry of dark robes and black smoke. Hands grip you and you get pulled in all different kinds of directions. It's hard to breathe. And even when you have stopped moving and you collapse on the ground, you're still out of breath.

The grass under you feels coarse. You know where they took you to. Malfoy Manor. To Voldemort.

A hand grips your bicep harshly before you get yanked off the ground and dragged into the house. You look up and study Snape. He has his never-breaking hard glare on his face, his eyes focussed on where is supposed to go and nothing else. They don't wander, don't linger.

He brings up stairs, and down endless hallways until he stops in front of familiar wooden doors. He knocks two times and waits a moment before opening one of the doors and pushing you inside.

You stumble, your legs still weak. You find your footing as you hold the back of a chair for support.

The Dark Lord stands in front of the fireplace, his back facing towards you. Nagini slithers around him, her head resting in his hands as he pets the snake.

You wait with bated breath for what will come.

Nagini slithers from the Dark Lord's hold towards you. She makes her way up your leg and restricts herself around your middle. "Hello, pretty", she hisses. If a snake had eyelids, she would have fluttered them at you.

You swallow with an uncomfortable smile on your lips, you reach out and run a hand over her scaly body. "Hello, Nagini", you answer back.

She lets out happy hisses. Nagini nestles herself against your body with no intention of letting go.

The Dark Lord is still facing the fire, his wand in his hands. "I assume the mission went successful?"

"Yes, Draco fulfilled his assignment. Dumbledore is dead." It feels weird to say it out loud. Everything happened so fast that you didn't even have a moment to realise what happened. Dumbledore is dead and Snape killed him. All the while Draco was supposed to do it.

The Dark Lord turns around, his snake-like eyes trained on you. You straighten your back, chest rising anxiously.

He reaches out and takes hold of your chin in an ice-cold hand, his long nails digging into your skin. He studies something on your face. "What did this?"

Confused, you frown. He pushes your face to the side so you're facing a mirror fastened on the wall next to the door. You take a step towards it and Nagini unfurls from you. A large and angry scar creeps from under your jaw towards the inner corner of your right eye. You trace it and hiss as it still hurts.

"I was... I was hit with the Sect- Sectumsempra curse... by Harry Potter", you admit, hanging your head low. Flashes of pain travel through your mind and you squeeze your eyes shut.

A presence behind you turns you around and you do not dare to look at him. "My Heir, I expect you from now on to attend every meeting and follow my every order. If you do so, I'll grant you your revenge."

You snap your head up, brows knitted together. "My revenge, Father?"

An unnerving smile grows on Voldemort's face. "On Harry Potter."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @daintylittlerose

154 notes · View notes

zillasvilla · 10 days

Text

❤️‍🔥 Welcome to Akhara’s PlayHouse ❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥more playboys coming soon||spam account: akharareblogs

Introduction: Akhara’s playhouse is a male centered fictional world, where they all fight for the attention of the writer. Akhara. Yup, that’s me.

Each play boy is unique in their own way, all expressing different ranges of emotion and skills. However boys will be boys, and Akhara is only one woman.

This is an eighteen plus blog containing: Mature themes, Rated-R content and pure filth. I reserved all rights to block anyone under the age of eighteen.

Roman Reigns:

Rebellion in the Shadows: Joseph Anoai replaces his father as Matai Joseph , and must now navigate his new role as chief, while wondering if his reign could match that of his father’s.

Averi makes a narrowing escape from some dangerous people. She finds her self saved by a mysterious man. Still, she keeps her walls up.

One : Two

Samuelu Island

Jey Uso:

Beyond the Lights: Soraya is a well known artist in the music industry, and her accolades reflect that. While her career may be thriving and successful. She still has a lot to learn as she faces the trials and tribulations that come with the fame.

zero : one : two : three : four : five : six : seven

Nap time

Randy Orton:

Mayhem: A planned feud goes a bit too far when two sisters pitch a story line that shifts the trajectory of the women’s division. co-written with: @keyaho

preview

Micheal B. Jordan:

Dadmonger Series: Erik and his wife are parents to ten-year old twin boys. Come along with them and their little family as they navigate their lives as parents.

winter party : not my sons : school bullies Mistletoe Clean up woman I wish you would He wasn’t man enough for me

Winston Duke:

International Studies Wedding Day

Chadwick Boseman:

Berlin

Trevante Rhodes: Coming Soon Cody Rhodes: Coming Soon Triple H: Coming Soon Pablo Schreiber: Coming Soon

Akhara’s Patrons: If you would like to be added, please comment on the master list. I will try to frequently update it as much as I can.

@justazzi @yana3sworld @wrestlingprincess80 @abadbitchblogs @paigereeder @kill-the-artiste @destinio1 @kill-the-artiste @reci1996 @mindairy @jatriciablog @alichesmi @jstarr86 @minsheyaish @wonderingfashion @whatdoeseverybodywant @jeysbvck @jeysbaby @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @keyaho @chaneajoyyy @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @empressdede @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @pimptressss

81 notes · View notes

hooked-on-elvis · 2 months

Text

Elvis' perfectionism 📀

Author's note: Okay, I'm beyond excited with this post, so please take your time reading it. You won't regret a bit.

So, things just got more interesting for me.

If you read my content for a while now, you must be familiar with the fact that I'm a huge fan of "Elvis On Tour" documentary. There's this scene in the middle of the movie where they play instrumental of "Don't Be Cruel" while some 50s pictures of Elvis are "randomly" shown onscreen... well, not as random as one may think.

"Elvis On Tour" is mainly a live concert documentary but it tells Elvis' history as well. His history as a musician is delivered through his own accounts (Elvis talking about his music preferences, his love for gospel music, etc) and by family members' accounts too, such as an interview with Vernon Presley, his father, that is also featured on the film, when Mr. Presley talks about how Elvis' tours in the 50s were wild with all the fans going extremely hysterical over his son.

One of the pictures in particular, displayed during the "throwback scene" in the movie, is immensely significant to the story that documentary meant to tell the viewers. This one right here:

July 3, 1956: On The Train back to Memphis, Tennessee. Photograph by Alfred Wertheimer. Below, other pictures from the same moment. Note the little record player on Elvis' lap, it is important.

The day before those pictures on the train were taken, Elvis had cut some new songs, soon to be released, "Hound Dog" and "Don't Be Cruel" are among them, but also "Any Way You Want Me".

Elvis during Studio Sessions for RCA July 2, 1956, at RCA Studios in New York. Photograph by Alfred Wertheimer.

About that recording session, on the precise moment EP was recording "Hound Dog", below is an excerpt from "Elvis Presley: A Life in Music" by Ernst Jorgensen and Peter Guralnick:

This was the session where Elvis’s perfectionist streak first became apparent. From [Steve] Sholes’s point of view several of the earlier takes would have been just fine, and he tried to get the singer to listen to the playbacks, but it was obvious that the singer was marching to his own beat; he wouldn’t rest until he had recorded the song to his own — not anyone else’s — satisfaction. Finally, with thirty-one, Elvis declared himself satisfied, and the room breathed a sigh of relief.

Side note: Before recording the song on studio, Elvis performed "Hound Dog" on the Steve Allen Show, on July 1, 1956. They were all worried about how to turn the live performance into a record, and Elvis was the one who was intensely dedicated to make it work. That's why he took 31 takes to finish working on particular track. It really paid off in the end.

Back to the train pictures on July 3, 1956, the photographer, Alfred Wertheimer, shared his accounts on the moment. He said:

"Elvis in on the train. He had just recorded these three songs but two of them became his third and fourth gold records: "(You Ain't Nothing But A) Hound Dog" was the third and "Don't Be Cruel" was the forth. Here he's listening to it over and over again on the way down to his home [Memphis, Tennessee], and he's listening it on this inexpensive little record player and here, I mean, while the other musicians are horsing around, while Colonel Parker is somewhere else, Elvis keeps listening and listening and listening. He's a serious guy! I asked him 'Why are you listening to it on this tiny little machine with a terrible speaker and you just heard it yesterday on a fourteen inch speaker in a studio, beautiful reproduction?' He says: 'Al...'

"'...This is the way my fans listen to my music. That's the way I wanna hear it.'"

— Elvis Presley, July 1956

On more train picture (Elvis going to Memphis, Tennessee on July 3, 1956):

On that photograph, Alfred Wertheimer said on 'Elvis '56' book:

"Listening to the previous day's work one more time before going to sleep, his teddy bear keeping him company. The record player is sitting on a ledge to the right of his berth."

youtube

ABOVE: "Elvis On Tour" (1972) snippet with "Throwback scene". Instrumental of "Don't Be Cruel" is playing on the background while pictures from Elvis' early tours are displayed onscreen. The first picture, that one from July 3, 1956, that Mr. Wertheimer shared his memories about.

The footage on that scene from the documentary is from September 9, 1956 on The Ed Sullivan Show. If you'd like to watch the full performance, here it is:

youtube

Well, I don't know about you but I will never see the throwback scene the same way.

I mean, if I'm being honest here, I used to often skip that scene just because I've seen the pictures over and over again and the footage from Ed Sullivan Show as well, so when I watch the film I used to be much more interested on the 1972 live performances, the backstage scenes and so on, but now I know the story of that picture, the scene is a lot more meaningful. That 1972 documentary, friends, is not only about Elvis' performances or the lasting love and adoration from his fans. It has a lot more to do with who Elvis Presley was, specially how he felt about music and how he gave all of him to please us. The film shows Elvis talking about how, in the 70s, after many, many years of experience onstage he still felt anxious before performing... and that picture from the 50s that is shown on the film tell us his dedication to his music was to the extent of listening his records on home record players just to make sure it would sound as flawless as it could be... all for us. After hearing the picture story from Mr. Wertheimer, I just fell in love with that 1972 documentary, and with El, even more. ♥

#elvis presley #elvis on tour #alfred wertheimer #1956 #1972 #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #50s elvis #70s elvis #elvis music #Youtube

97 notes · View notes

bangtanhoneys · 4 months

Text

Bora's First Christmas

(photo credit to: travel-stained.com)

The Kim/Chu household was a little bit different than normal households in Seoul, South Korea. While most Koreans didn’t go all out for Christmas, Grace grew up in England with an English mother and Korean father so she had all the full experience of Christmas. Even in Germany, they went all out.

So that tradition continued when they moved back to Korea, when Grace joined the boys in the dorm for the first time, when they moved to their subsequent dorms and into her own home and finally the home she shared with Seokjin and their eight-month-old daughter.

Bora was crawling up a storm and had nearly started to form words, nearly getting there but not quite making it. The lights on the Christmas tree always caught her attention and her small fingers played with the baubles that she could just about reach but her father always swooped in before she could pull it off.

It was like having a second Min-ji at times. The cat had calmed down since his first Christmas, having knocked down the tree and everything with it. The more it appeared, the more he grew bored of it until he liked to sleep underneath it so his long tail could swish at the lights.

“My Bora, are you ready for your first Christmas?” Seokjin asked, adjusting his grasp so he was more comfortable holding the eight-month-old. Her fingers reached up and grabbed hold of his nose, giving it a squeeze which made her laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Come here you little rascal, I hadn’t finished putting on your shoes,” Grace sighed as she finally spotted where her daughter was. “Don’t you want to see the Seoul Lantern Festival? That should tire you out.”

It was a little struggle to get shoes on and to get her wrapped up in a coat with some gloves and a little hat but as long as she was in her father’s arms, she was quiet and content. After a 15 minute drive and a 10 minute search for a parking space, the couple with their daughter were walking along the Cheonggyecheon Stream.

They were masked up, hats on, and no distinct tags that shouted they were part of BTS. No bodyguards to give it all a way - just a young family enjoying what Seoul had to offer for Christmas.

“At least she’s enjoying herself,” Grace chuckled from where she was resting her head against Seokjin’s arm, their daughter still in his grasp. Bora’s tiny eyes were taking it all in but every now and then she would close them, have a five second nap then they would pop open when there was a new sound.

“Just wait until everyone arrives for Christmas, she won’t know what to do then,” Seokjin grinned. They had planned a not-so-traditional Christmas dinner with both sets of parents, Seokjin’s brother and his wife with their two sons and the rest of Bangtan. All boys forgoing any schedules or events to spend time with Bora, to experience her first Christmas with them.

Jungkook had already made plans to take over his room again on Christmas Eve, having bought everyone matching pyjamas (a photo which would later be uploaded to social media and spread like wildfire over how cute it was).

“Come on,” Seokjin groaned and adjusted the now heavy child. “Let’s get this tuckered out one home and get wrapping presents.”

“I think your more excited than you let on,” Grace chuckled as she reached over to adjust the hat that kept sliding off.

“Excited to see my daughter’s first Christmas? You must be kidding. I want to see Jungkook’s face when he realises he got a lump of coal.”

#bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts female member #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bangtanbaby

65 notes · View notes

madame-fear · 1 year

Text

*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 .ೃ࿐

.·:¨༺ [ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. ] ༻¨:·.

— summary : (y/n) Velaryon is Lucerys' aunt, Laenor's close cousin, and Vaemond's daughter. Lucerys nurtures a deep love and admiration for her Velaryon way of being, making him fall hard for his aunt, unaware his feelings are mutual. But how will their relationship be shaken when her father tries to claim himself as the true heir of Driftmark? — requested? : yes, by my beloved @faces-ofvenus. Happy birthday precious, hope you have an amazing day, and you enjoy your reading! 🥺🥳💐 — word count : 5.4k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x velaryon! aunt! reader — genre : fluff.

TW │ mentions of incest content (aunt-nephew mutual crushing), and some minor cursing.

ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter One ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Two ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Three ೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Fourೃ⁀➷ Read Chapter Five

The gentle ocean waves softly crashed against the rocks of the Dragonstone Castle, creating a soothing splashing sound in the atmosphere everytime it clashed against the stones.

As Rhaenyra stood outside the castle, she watched the boat you were sailing in with a small troop slowly approach from the light mist, appearing to near sight in a leisure way, causing her lips to curve into a warm, gentle smile. The Velaryon sigil and symbolism sewed in the black flags that flew along the cool breeze of the wind were properly seen the closer it got to Dragonstone. From the full end of the sailingboat, your figure appeared, covering slightly your face from the vivid rays of the sun with the back of your hand, immediatly spotting the Targaryen Princess, who had been the wife of your late close cousin Laenor, and greeting her with a mere hand wave, accompanied of a rapturous toothy-grin forming upon your lips. Noticing this, the platinum-haired woman waved back joyfully, awaiting patiently for your arrival after nearly one and a half year of not seeing each other, with both her hands tightly clasped and resting in front of her body.

Once the ship moored at a dock near the grand castle — and rather quickly — you waved goodbye to the small troop that had taken you to Dragonstone with a gentle grin on the corner of your lips, and immediatly rushed to Rhaenyra, who was the mother of your late cousin's three sons. Despite the legitimacy of their blood being often questioned, you constantly defended your most beloved nephews to no end. And even though by blood the boys and you were meant to be second cousins, from early childhood the three boys always thought of you as their aunt... and it remained that way.

“My sweet (y/n),” with her arms wide open, she calmly greeted, as you embraced her by wrapping your own arms around her body, and without hesitation, she immediatly returned it. “My dear Rhaenyra.” you greeted back, slowly rocking your bodies to the side as you embraced each other lovingly. A warm sense of comfort and familiarity washed over you after what felt an eternity of not seeing each other, you swore you could feel your cheeks beginning to hurt from how broadly you smiled. Slowly, both of you began to pull apart from each other, and looked deep into your eyes.

“Welcome back to Dragonstone, (y/n).” her hand was placed on your back as the two of you began walking side by side, the Princess guiding you inside the unfamiliar castle. It was a quite a grand castle with large mesmerising dragon statues all over it's outsides, and one whom gracefully shone with the blazing sunrays of the forming twilight. “You must be tired from such a long journey, I pressume?” she inquired with a gentle smile tilting her head very slightly to her side, her lilac eyes staring into your (e/c) ones as your hairs flew smoothly along the wind. Snapping from your own trance of thoughts upon hearing your voice, you shrugged. “It was a long journey indeed, but I don't think I'll ever get tired from navigating across the ocean waves.” you retorted with a smug grin, causing her to chuckle quietly. Before she could reply or speak anything else, you continued; “And how are my nephews?” you asked, genuinely curious. It had been quite a long time since you had last seen them. You had no doubt, they must've grown quite rapidly since the last time you were all together.

Of course, you loved the three Velaryon boys equally, and you were the most overprotective relative of them. However, a notorious tension between your secondborn nephew, Lucerys, and you were felt whenever you were together in the same room. It had always been felt. His hazel eyes would nevear leave yours, or would give you side looks, in any family conversation Lucerys always found a way to bring the topic of you into it. There was a small sensation of a growing passion for you, though he denied it even to himself, and passed it as a mere "admiration for his aunt" for being a true Velaryon who wasn't afraid of navigating, knew exactly how to avoid seasickness, and you had an extraordinarily sense of freedom that he so wished to have himself.

But over the course of time, whenever his heart fluttered at your loving smiles when you caught him eyeing you, he knew admiration wasn't the only thing he felt for you. It was something else. Everyone could see it... Rhaenyra could see it very clearly. At the very beginning, she simply passed it as her son favouring a relative, but as she looked closely to your interactions, she realised the certain way you shared looks — and there, she began suspecting regarding her son's feelings towards you. Your shared feelings, as you always stared right back at him intensely.

“They've missed you, a lot.” she replied, a tiny smile remaining on her lips as both of you entered the grand castle together, after having walked quite some steps. If you were already amused by the outside of the castle, you were even more mesmerised by the insides of the castle; it was mostly full of Targaryen symbolism, dragon statues, and dragon heads carved on it's walls. Your eyes scanned the entirety of the castle, following Rhaenyra a bit mindlessly. “The boys are training at the moment.” Rhaenyra spoke, causing you to dart your eyes towards her, “Come with me, my dear.” she gestured for you to follow her. You did as she said, and rapidly followed her before you could get any more lost at the slight unfamiliarity.

As the two of you walked across the large, grey-ish corridors, some passing maidens and servants respectfully bowed and greeted her. The halls seemed never ending from how large and continous they were, though, they were a true sight to admire and behold. While you walked, she gave you a small "tour" around the castle, explaining how the halls were connected, the rooms, and showed you briefly the other places around so you could get familiarised, and guide yourself around the castle. After walking and passing through many large halls, you reached another grand door that lead to the outside, allowing you to explore the rocky island a bit more, and it contained a downhill path that allowed you to admire the view of the waving ocean.

“I'm certain the boys will be thrilled to see their aunt after a long time, my dear.” as she guided you towards the downhill path, she spoke. The refreshing scent of the sea flew along the breeze, your hairs and the dark cape you used when navigating flowed rather smoothly as you walked side by side. A grin appeared on your lips, your fluttering heart thumped against your chest warmly, and strangely enough, you felt... nervous, in a way, of meeting with them once again. Especially, meeting with your favourite nephew.

“As I am thrilled to see them.” you retorted, briefly gazing into her eyes and grinning, while you continued to walk.

The path was slightly long and silent, but enjoyable, and you reached quickly a small beachside that stood outside Dragonstone, allowing a perfect view of the grand ocean; some passing sailingboats were seen at a distance, and raven cawing was heard in the background. The ocean waves continously clashed against the rocks smoothly, bringing you a comforting sensation of being close to home. And as you analysed your surroundings while you stepped into the sand, the sound of continously clashing swords was heard faintly, causing your eyes to dart towards where the sound came from; encountering yourself with Jacaerys and Lucerys both sword training together, as a maester stared and guided them on their movements, and hits.

“They've grown up quite rapidly, have they not?” Rhaenyra's soft voice was heard, as she stood by your side while both of you watched the boys training with the swords, which vividly shone and glinted under the striking sun whenever one of the Velaryon boys swinged the swords. Your eyes focused on Lucerys, whose movements when swinging his sword were slightly weak and trembling, stumbling a bit everytime his brother's blade hit his own. His attention shifted from his brother, to you when he spotted both his mother and you staring at them from the corner of his eyes. The following movements were made without the properly required attention for a responsability such as swordtraining, his focus shifting from his brother to you continously.

Rhaenyra kept speaking to you about certain things you quite couldn't hear, as her voice faded in the background — leaving you focused solely on his hazel eyes, as your heart fluttered intensely, and you gave him a warm smile; an increasingly scarlet glint on your cheeks was seen, much like his.

In one of those sudden lack of attention moments Lucerys was having once he finally spotted you, Jace swiftly and vigorously hit Luke's sword with his own, rapidly tossing it aside to sand, causing Lucerys to, with eyes widen, shift his attention on the training with his brother, and accidentally stumble upon a small rock behind of him, falling on his back to the sand, and releasing a small defeated huff as he covered his face with his arm, as to protect himself from the dazzling sun.

“Be more careful with your brother, Jacaerys.” from a faint distance, you heard the maester lightly scold Jace, as the eldest Velaryon nodded in agreement, and leaned down closer to his brother. Luke stared attentively as Jace scolded him for being distracted, but his eyes rapidly shifted back to yours as his lips turned into an thin, straight line as his cheeks grew an even darker shade of scarlet from embarrassment upon seeing a playful grin quivering on your lips at the moment.

“Are you even listening to me, Luke?” Jace's slightly stern yet calm voice tone was heard scolding his brother. Noticing his younger brother's strange lack of focus, Jace abruptly stopped talking and explaining to his brother how to position himself for swordfighting, and turned around to where Luke was staring at: which was, you. Of course, a broad smile formed on his lip at the sight of his favourite aunt that he hadn't seen for sometime, and greeted you by waving which you immediatly returned, but with an understanding expression on his face, he turned to his brother whom still laid on the sand, and helped him stand up by taking a firm grip of his hand, and raising him from the ground.

“You can't be a bit less obvious, can you?” Jace muttered lowly only for his brother to hear as Luke swooped away the remaining grains of sand on his clothing, and his lips remained straight, accompanied by the intense fluster. Jace knew about his brother's feelings for you, he could see the way he stared at each other... anyone whom paid close attention to both of you could, in fact, realise that your affection was mutual — but he knew his brother would've to be a little more discreet with the way he felt for you. Plus, he had warned him several times already about the way none of you could take your eyes off each other, on other occasions when you visited the entire family.

“So? What do you think about that idea, (y/n)?” Rhaenyra's voice snapped you from your attention, which was fixed on Luke going back to train with his brother as his maester explained something to them that you couldn't quite catch — and you realised, you had listened to nothing of what Rhaenyra was talking to you. In fact, you didn't even know about what you were supposed to think about what she was talking!

“I, uh– What? I mean, yes, uh—” as you tried to recompose your thoughts, you stumbled upon your words briefly. “Yes, I erm, think that idea is perfect.” you retorted not even knowing what you were agreeing to, trying to keep a polite smile as you looked at her, whom returned you the kind smile. “Excellent.” she said, as she placed a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “And, how long are you planning on staying, my dear?” she inquired, slightly tilting her head to her side curiously. “Well, if it's not much trouble, I was wondering if I could stay with you for a full moon? I missed my family.” you replied, fidgeting lightly with your fingers — she nodded warmly, agreeing.

“Of course, make yourself at home.” Rhaenyra replied, a kind grin remaining on her lips. “Come, I will show you the chambers our maidens have prepared for you, my dear.” both of you turned around, and started making your way back inside the Dragonstone castle as she guided you, but not before briefly turning around and giving one last look at the boys, making a last eye contact with Luke. Noticing the sweet, gentle smile curving on your lips, he quickly returned it before going back to swordtraining with his brother.

Both boys wished to leave away their duties and greet their aunt after such a long time, but it wasn't the time to do so, yet. They would after finishing all their responsabilities, unfortunately.

🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰🐉🏰

Dusk took over the previous twilight, making the sun rapidly disappear from sight, leaving place for the moon and the bright stars to appear in the sky.

After a long day of being shown around the castle, exploring it by yourself, and trying to set your things in the guest chamber Rhaenyra had maidens to prepare for you, you decided to step off outside for a while, leisurely walking towards the previous downhill path that descended towards the small beachside where the boys had been training. It was a nice way of spending time while you waited for the maidens to finish preparing and serving dinner.

The breeze of the night was calming, and enjoyable – a small, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as your eyes fixed on the moving ocean waves that had reflections of the bright moon. The sea was always your provider of comfort, it felt true to your nature. As you fluttered your eyes shut and softly inhaled, taking in the fresh scent of the sea and the cool breeze while being immersed in your own thoughts, a familiar, soft voice spoke from behind of you.

“Aunt?” upon hearing the voice, you opened your eyes quickly, and swiftly moved your head to turn around at the voice, finding yourself with Lucerys awkwardly staring at you; his hands clasped behind his back. You greeted him with a single nod, and an intensely growing smile on your lips. “Lucerys, dear nephew.” you replied, as the young prince shyly started walking towards you, noticing the scarlet glint on his cheeks at being near your presence. As he leisurely approached you, you opened your arms widely, signaling for him to feel free to embrace you, which he immediatly caught, and rapidly wrapped his arms around your body tightly.

His head fell to the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent, and you returned his tight embrace as your hands gently rubbed his back. “Missed me, I see?” you teased lightly with a small grin on your lips, looking down at the princeling, whom nodded in response. “I have. I was wondering when we would see each other again.” he replied, his voice sounding a bit muffled as his head remained tightly pressed against your neck. “I should've, at least, sent a raven – I apologise for not contacting you, sweet boy.” as your voice was tender, your fingers crept around his curls, and leisurely played with them by twirling his curls around your index fingers.

“I... I was simply overwhelmed with lots of paperwork and duties, love.” you continued, “But there wasn't a single second where I wasn't thinking about you, and your family.” slowly pulling away from the hug, you cupped his warm cheeks, making him stare deeply into your eyes with his big puppy ones. His lips had a shy smile as you reassured him; your hand softly moved some fangs of curls that very slightly covered his face, as his hazel eyes admiringly stared at you. “I have indeed missed you.” he mumbled, not taking his eyes off of yours. “How long will you be staying with us?”

“Your mother and I agreed that I'll be staying a full moon.” upon hearing your answer, a glint of excitement appeared on his eyes, followed by a broad smile. Your hands descend from cupping his cheeks, to taking hold of his hands. “Come, let us go for a walk, shall we?” nodding, he allowed you to take hold of his hand very tenderly, and both of you walked side by side around the beachside, occasionally admiring the ocean waves which shone under the glints of the moon. Unfortunately for him, you shyly let go of his hand, now grasping each other as you walked close to your bodies.

Amongst the sounds of the clashing waves against the rocks, there was an awkward silence between both of you. None of you knew where you were exactly walking to, you were just... enjoying each other's presence, and the quiet stillness of the night along with it's cool windy breeze. A sigh escaped your lips, and you turned your head to your side where Lucerys walked next to you, and you briefly caught him staring at you, making you release a breathless chuckle.

“You have grown since I last saw you, Luke.” you spoke in a low tone, kindly smiling at him. His eyes hesitated briefly to look at you as he stared down at the sand while strolling together, but eventually, he built up the courage to dart his gaze at you, trying to contain his excitement yet nervousness. “Thank you, aunt.” Luke awkwardly murmured, as his lips quivered into a shy smile for you. After that, silence overtook between both of you, as you kept walking side by side. It was hard for Lucerys to talk to you; not because he didn't want to, but merely because he thought extremely highly of you, and didn't want to accidentally say something you might possibly find stupid.

“Aunt, are you not tired from such a long journey?” after fighting with himself internally whether to speak or not, he managed to talk without his voice breaking, or slowly dying of nervousness. You softly chuckled, and looked at him, shaking your head. “The sea is my home. I have gotten used to navigate through the sea waves without growing tired, or sick.” his eyes admiringly stared at you as you spoke. You were a true Velaryon, and he wished he could be more like you were. Bold, you weren't afraid of navigating through the sea and you had an incredibly admirable knowledge about all things related to sailing. Sometimes... he couldn't help but find himself thinking that, perhaps, you should be the true heir of Driftmark.

He lightly scoffed, but to himself. “I wish I were more like you.” he mumbled, shaking his head. You furrowed your eyebrows confusedly, tilting your head to your side. “I'm not so... perfect, like you are.” upon hearing his self-despiting words, you furrowed your eyebrows. Before you could object against his statement, he continued. “I always become greensick when I get into a boat. I can barely tolerate sailing through the sea. I–” Lucerys interrupted himself, his eyes shyly gazed at the sand. “I shouldn't be the heir of Driftmark. You should be the true heir, not me!” his voice tone was slightly raised, as he managed to finally look up into your eyes. Your lips were formed in a thin line, as you shook your head. “No, no– Lucerys, listen to me.” some slurred words escaped your lips as you tried to rearrange your thoughts. It wasn't that you didn't know what to tell him, you knew exactly what to respond to his rambling against himself, but you just had too many good things to say about him that you didn't know where to start, continue, and end.

Both your hands were placed firmly on his shoulders. “My dear, I am far from perfect.” you begun, as a warm crimson glint formed on his cheeks at your intense, passionate gaze, feeling the grip your hands had on his shoulders. “You are perfect just the way you are. I was your age once, and much like you, I doubted myself as well. But, as I grew up, I fed myself with knowledge about the sea, navigation, about our House and it's legacy, I was taught such things by my own maesters...” as you continued speaking, your voice was stern; but only because you couldn't tolerate hearing him speak in such way about himself. “It takes time, but you will learn with the passing of time. You can't expect to have all the knowledge you need to have as the future Lord of Driftmark in the blink of an eye, you will be leisurely taught everything you need to know as you grow up, Lucerys. Don't rush yourself.” his head awkwardly nodded at you, understanding every single word you meant. Giving it a more insightful though, perhaps, you were right. You had more experience than he had, and Lucerys could see that you were clearly speaking from that said experience. “You will be an excellent Lord of Driftmark, I know.” you reassured, even if he still wasn't so convinced about it.

“And you know why I know you'll be an excellent future Lord of Driftmark?” your voice asked with a playful tone on it. His eyebrows lightly furrowed with curiousity, tilting his head to one side awaiting for your response. “Because I will be the one teaching you all about the sea, and our legacy of navigation.” with a quivering, excited smile growing on your lips, you responded quite pridefully at your own question. “You might have maesters to be taught High Valyrian, history, and other things... but I will personally ask your mother to be your own maester of the sea, navigation, and I will teach you the ways I used to avoid seasickness. What do you think, Luke?” With every passing second you spoke, his straight shaped lips began turning into a broad smile, accompanied with an even increasing reddish fluster, and his heart began fluttering quite rapidly at the thought of having the luck of spending more time with you, and having you as his teacher. Lucerys had to thank the Seven for giving him such joyful opportunity.

A warm chuckle outbursted from his lips at your light teasing, making you mimick his reaction as well. “Well, then I suppose it is only fair I get to teach you about dragons, if you will be my own maester.” Lucerys joked, trying to ease his excited nerves at the idea of getting to spend more time with his aunt, and hidden crush. You nodded, rather eager at his statement, broadly grinning. “Of course, sweet boy. We have a deal, but only if you promise me to trust more about your skills.” pinching his cheek lightly, you tilted your head to your side, awaiting for his response, your hand ascending to gently hold his chin with your fingers.

You noticed he was always shy and a bit awkward around you, and you found that very adorable. Sometimes he could only manage to stare at you rather than approach you to talk, but when he did have the courage to talk to you for a bit, you appreciated it.

In response, he rapidly nodded. “Very well, aunt. I will. We have a deal.” Lucerys mumbled a bit quietly, and you proudly smiled at him. “Good. And I will be waiting for those lessons with dragons, sweet boy.” you joked, placing a long kiss on his forehead... which, of course, he completely gave into the feeling of your lips giving him kisses, making his eyes shine with an excited glint. As you pulled away, and before you could say anything else, an idea appeared on his mind nearly like a recently lit up bulb. “It's been quite some while since you last saw Arrax, has it not?” he inquired.

For him, it was the greatest idea — he would try and impress you by taking you to visit Arrax upclose on his dragonpit since you never had the chance to pet the pearly-coloured dragon, and not only that, but you were willing to be taught by him all things regarding dragons and you'd teach him about the sea! Meaning, you'd get to spend more time the entire full moon you'd be staying. In the meantime, he'd think of a plan to convice his mother — and you — on allowing you to stay for a longer period of time; though he knew his mother would say yes in a heartbeat.

At his question, you lifted an eyebrow and nodded. “Yes, correct? I have seen him last time I was here, and only got to see a slight bit of him flying in the skies.” you responded, curiously awaiting to hear what he had to say, even if you already sensed slightly why he was asking you that. His warm, delicate hands took hold of yours, and began dragging you by taking hold of them. “Then, allow me to welcome you back by taking you to visit Arrax up close, aunt.” you giggled quietly with a certain joyful anxiety on your tone, as he dragged you to the dragonpit. “As long as he doesn't bite or burns me to ashes, I accept your offer.”

It was true, though. As used as you were to seeing dragons thanks to your own House's relationship to House Targaryen, you never had a personal close contact with a dragon. Even if you didn't admit outloud that you were slightly nervous, Luke could notice it right away in your facial expressions, and of course, your concerned voice tone, even if you joked around to hide the anxiety.

“Dragons can sense their riders emotions. Whatever you feel, they will feel it as well.” as Lucerys guided you towards the dragonpit, his grip on your hand remained, but was softer now. As it was dark, none of you could notice the light blushing on your cheeks from the contact. “Oh, can they?” you lifted an eyebrow as you queried. You knew you were definitely going to enjoy having him teach you about dragons. He nodded in response. “Yes. Arrax will surely sense that you are of no threat, as we... both have a special aunt-nephew relationship.” he reassured, and you nodded, your smile growing broader, along with your fluster.

“Yes, we do, Luke.” you mumbled as you were guided by him through the moonlit beachside. “If you say I won't get burnt to ashes by your dragon, I trust your word, then.” you joked, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

Pushing aside the naturally nervous feelings that the thought of meeting a dragon up close provoked you, you couldn't deny that you were excited. Not only excited for simply meeting a dragon closer, but to know that throughout the entirety of your stay in Dragonstone will include teaching each other about your own personal knowledge, and spending time together... as you had always desired.

🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊🐉🌊

The path from the beachside to Arrax's dragonpit was a rather quick walk — quicker than you would've originally thought.

As both of you approached the large, obscure dragonpit, your eyes scanned the pit with amusement, briefly stopping at the entrance only to admire the rocky structure. Then, with a mix of nervousness and excitement, you followed Lucerys inside the pit. It was cold and dark, but nothing that could bother you too much; it was rather impressive for you, as you had never entered a dragonpit before.

“Rytsas, Arrax.” your eyes darted towards Luke, as you heard him speaking in High Valyrian. A long, fiery huff was both heard and felt, as from the shadows a grand pearly coloured dragon approached the two of you. The dragon's large, amber eyes stared at you curiously, leaning closer to you as to inspect you. Your body stiffened upon feeling the dragon's hot breath against your body, as he carefully observed you. Lucerys, whom stood by your side staring at the interaction with a proud smile, playfully released a chuckle.

Shyly, you raised your hand in front of the dragon, expecting him to smell it, and so he did. Arrax smelt your hand, and quickly licked it as if it were a puppy — immediatly calming your nerves at seeing that the dragon approved of you. A long, satisfied sigh escaped your lips, as you grinned, and turned to look at the Velaryon boy.

“See? I told you he'd like you.” as the dragon kept licking your tongue playfully and huffing joyfully at your presence, Luke spoke with a proud expression on his face. You giggled, and looked back at him. Of course he was right; Arrax would like you, as much as Lucerys liked you. Dragons can feel their riders emotions and feelings, after all, so his dragon's reaction was of no surprise at all for him. His hazel eyes would not leave your overjoyed expression as you turned back to stare at Arrax and coo at him, intensely staring at you admiringly, causing his heart to flutter quite rapidly.

“Ziry iksos olvie gevie, nyke gīmigon (she's quite beautiful, I know).” as he approached Arrax a bit closer, he started tenderly petting his scales, while he spoke something in Valyrian that you quite couldn't catch... and he was grateful that you didn't understood. His eyes wandered a bit at Arrax while he licked your hand and face, and then he turned to look at you, slightly tilting his head to his side. “Why don't you pet his scales a bit? He will enjoy it.” your eyes widened, and you hesitated a bit at his statement. But seeing that the dragon apparently approved of you, perhaps you could pet it like the green-eyed boy suggested.

The hand that Arrax previously licked went to pet the scales near his nostrils very carefully, trying to get used at the raspy texture under your fingertips. Your eyes glinted with amusement at the newly felt sensation as you petted the dragon, whom clearly enjoyed your touch.

“Ah, I would've never imagined such grand beasts would act like puppies when petted.” you joked lightly, causing Luke to chuckle, while your eyes never left Arrax. “I like him, he's cute.” your eyes darted towards his now, smiling shyly, as your fingertips kept caressing the dragon tenderly. A broad smile curved on his lips as well, a crimson shade appearing on his face. “Then, we could come visit him more often. I'm certain he will be thrilled to have you as a frequent visitor, aunt.” upon hearing his words, your eyes seemed to shine with an even brighter spark of joy, as you lifted your eyebrows excitedly. “Oh! Really? I'd be honoured, then.” it was a bit hard to contain your excitement, as it was notorious by your voice tone, and your facial expressions as you spoke. All your previous feelings of nerves were fully gone, luckily.

Before any of you could respond anything else, you briefly turned around to look outside the dragonpit, and you sighed. “I think we should get going back inside the castle, sweetling. Otherwise we'll be late for the dinner your mother organised, and she'll scold us.” you teased, turning around your head to look back at him as you spoke, as he nodded in agreement with a wide grin at your joking, and gave one final pat to Arrax's scales. “Besides, I have plans for us in the morrow.” as Lucerys gave Arrax his own goodbye and left the beast to rest once again, his eyes curiously looked at you.

“We will sail together in the morrow, and I will teach you everything you need to know when navigating.” as both of you began leaving the dragonpit as to make your way back inside the grand castle, his eyes looked at you excitedly. Words felt stuck on his throat at the thought of both of you spending more time together by yourselves, making his heart loudly thump against his chest nervously, but keen for the moments yet to come — and all he could do, was mindlessly nod as he followed you back inside from behind like a lost puppy; his cheeks fully reddened.

It was going to be an intense full moon during your stay, but a joyful one that would make him the happiest, as he gets to spend it with you.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara

#lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys strong x reader #lucerys targaryen x reader #lucerys velaryon imagine #lucerys velaryon headcanons #prince lucerys x reader #lucerys velaryon x aunt reader #lucerys velaryon x velaryon reader #hotd x you #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x y/n #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon headcanons #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #the light that shreds through darkness

269 notes · View notes

averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

Text

Heart of the Ocean 💙 | Teen Wolf Miniseries Part 1

Takes place in between 3A & 3B of Teen Wolf

Teen Wolf Masterlist | part 2

Characters & Pairings: Hale/McCall Pack x supernatural!reader (female/platonic), eventual Peter Hale x reader (romantic), reader x male!oc ( past romance) & reader x supernatural!reader (platonic). Characters in this imagine: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale, Peter Hale.

Content Warnings: light angst, profanity, references of historical event disaster, mentions of death, blood, murder | afab!reader (she/her pronouns) | wc: 3.1k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Suspicious deaths were a common occurrence in Beacon Hills—especially after things seem to be actually looking good when a previous problem is fixed. Now Scott and the pack are having to investigate a string of murders happening that not only reek of supernatural, but linked to an renowned event they’ve learned in history class.

Note: I’m hyperfixating on Titanic as of late so I have a lot of ideas involving AU’s and retelling with various fandoms. I just did a TGM au with Bradley Bradshaw and currently have a Twilight one in the works so expect a lot of Titanic in my works when I’m not writing requests.

————————————

Riddles were a tricky little thing. And when used in a malevolent way where to find the answer to a solution one must crack the code, riddles can become a person’s worst enemy.

And the one laying on the table of Derek’s loft was becoming their enemy.

Murders, which was becoming a common occurrence lately in Beacon Hills, were happening where the people were nearly drained of their blood by cutting their throats and wrists before letting them hang upside down. Stiles' father was overwhelmed with stress. Not to mention he was having to come to terms with the reality his town was a beating heart for supernatural creatures. Like how his sons best friend since childhood was a fucking werewolf.

And while it was presumed a human serial killer was responsible for the murders, the pack had an inkling it was more sinister. Investigating on their own they found more suspicious reasons to believe it was supernatural.

Only problem, they had no clue who or what it was.

They were all gathered over the table—save for Peter who was nestled on the couch. Stiles was rubbing a thumb over his lip, becoming frustrated as he was usually on top of solving riddles. Lydia was beside him, deep in thought as she read over the paper silently.

“He just left this here?” Scott glanced at Derek, who was standing with his arms crossed on the opposite side of the table.

“Right outside the door. Like he wanted us to find it.”

“And you heard nothing?” Stiles’ question earned him a glare. “Super hearing and you didn’t hear someone stabbing a piece of paper into your front door?”

“If I did you think I would’ve let him leave the damn note?” Derek spoke harshly.

“Riddle.”

“—knowing all it is is a distraction so he can kill more people.”

“It’s not just a distraction,” Allison interrupted the two bickering, staring hard at the note. “It’s an order. He’s asking us to find someone.”

“Yeah,” Isaac scoffed, “who we have no idea is.”

“Read it again,” Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. With a huff, Stiles took the paper in his hands, clearing his throat before reading aloud for all to hear.

Have you figured it out yet?

Were my clues not enough?

You’re thinking too hard now,

Let me show you it’s not so tough.

Our faces the same,

As they were the day we changed.

Only the eyes no longer its color,

A price for the exchange.

You’ll find it almost disheartening,

When you learn of what we do.

Our nature is uncanny,

But it’s not so far from you.

Find the one I’m looking for,

And I’ll stop the chaos and the pain.

Are you ready?

Here’s your hint.

Time is of the essence,

So you better make it quick.

Wearing the Heart of the Ocean,

She’s closer than it seems.

For I seek the one I turned,

Who was on the Ship of Dreams.

Silence fills the loft, everyone thinking hard of what it could mean. There were so many clues but so vague it was difficult to puzzle them together.

“Well we know it’s someone supernatural,” Isaac hummed, attempting to lighten the situation.

“Yeah we got that genius,” Peter muttered.

“And he’s looking for a woman,” Allison added, ignoring Peter’s sarcasm. “Someone he turned. And was on a ship?” It comes out more like a question, “that could mean a lot of things.”

“Could it be a werewolf?” Scott turned to Derek

The man shook his head, “I don’t think so.”

“But the thing about the eyes—.”

“Many shapeshifters' eyes are like ours. That doesn’t mean it’s a wolf. Plus he said they’re not wolves.”

“How do you know?”

Derek rolls his eyes as though it were obvious, “he wrote, ‘our nature is uncanny, but it’s not so far from you,’. If they were wolves he would’ve said so.”

“Maybe another Kanima?” Allison suggested, “the master looking for his puppet?”

Stiles cuts in, narrowing his eyes on the last verse, “Why would he bold the first and last line of the last clue—these ones,” he places the paper flat on the table. Lydia, the closest to him, leans in as his finger points to the verse. “Heart of the Ocean and the—.”

“Ship of Dreams,” she finishes, voice going low as realization hits her. All eyes turn to her, confusion in their gaze until the name leaves her lips. “Titanic.”

“What?” The question came from Scott, but all were thinking the same. There’s no way she was talking about the most famous shipwreck in history.

“Titanic,” Lydia repeated, this time more confidently. Her own finger came up to point where Stiles' finger had been. “They used to call it the Ship of Dreams.”

“Titanic?” Isaac’s tone was full of doubt. “You mean the ship that sank a century ago?” He couldn’t help but add, “And the movie Leonardo DiCaprio dies in.”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t recall any other having the same name.”

“The anniversary is coming up,” Derek starts to say, deep in thought like it was all coming together. “It would make sense.”

“Wait—hold on,” Stiles lifts a dramatic hand. “We’re talking about THE Titanic—like Isaac said—that sank a hundred years ago. A hundred,” he repeats to show his point. “Anyone who is alive—even if they were a werewolf or shapeshifter or whatever the hell you want to call it,” he glances at each of them, “would pretty much be on their last breath of life. If this woman were a newborn baby at the time she’d be at least one hundred years old by now.”

In the debate none had noticed Peter moved from the couch to the window. The chuckle leaving his mouth caught their attention. Stiles makes a sound, “I’m sorry, do you wanna share with the class what you obviously know that we’re missing?”

“Our faces are the same,” he says the opening line of the second verse, only drawing confusion and annoyed looks from the others. “As they were the day we changed.” The man pauses, letting it sink in before continuing, “If the woman he’s looking for was on Titanic then she likely was an adult. Considering he turned her, probably by saving her from freezing to death or drowning, and she wears the same face she did the night she was turned…” Peter steps away from the window, now facing the group.

“She’s not aging. At all. Meaning…..she’s immortal.”

The silence following his confession is eerie, eyes flicking over each other to see if they were reacting the same. Immortal. Though the term was familiar it felt almost foreign. Never had they dealt with someone immortal. Unable to die and was walking the Earth acting as though they were human. Now Beacon Hills had two in its possession. They needed to work fast and the riddle only had pieces of the puzzles.

So who—or more like what, was immortal?

"What are you getting to?” Scott narrowed his eyes, Wanting a straightforward answer to what they were dealing with.

Peter clasps his hands behind his back, slowly inching forward,” It’s not shapeshifters you’re looking for.” He takes a step closer, “or a Kanima and its master.” Another step, “or a dark Druid.” Another step brings him right next to Derek, eyes flicking to the paper. “There are few creatures blessed with immortality—or cursed if you look at it another way. But most of them are born with it. Take Gods and fairies for example.”

“Oh my God—those exist?” Stiles feels his mind implode, “Are we about to fight Gods?”

“No,” annoyed at being interrupted Peter rolled his eyes. “I just said those are immortals that are born with their powers. And I don’t know if they exist, I’ve haven’t met one yet. Anyway, this one—.” His finger touches the riddle, “was turned. And likely the person who did was too.”

“So what is it then,” Scott was becoming impatient. And who could blame him really. For all they know it someone was already being drained of their blood at that very moment. “What’s the immortal that’s turned not born?”

“Come one,” he scoffs, like he couldn’t believe they hadn’t figured it out. “Ever wonder why the victims were drained of their blood?” The one question had everyone's face become colorless. “Has Stiles's father not caught on the wounds were made after they were dead?” Why their throat was slashed….but had two little puncture holes on either side?” Peter glances around at every person, catching the nervousness of their gaze as though they already knew what he was about to say but wished it wasn’t.

“The creatures you’re looking for…..are vampires.”

The rest of the night the pack was gathering as much information as they could about the passengers aboard Titanic—all 2,240 of them—while also trying to figure out any other clues within the riddle. They still couldn’t believe it was a vampire responsible for the murders. And that he was hunting someone he created who, still to their shock, was a passenger aboard Titanic.

And with 2,240 people on the ship during its ill fated maiden voyage…they were in for a long night.

“Okay so we know they’re vampires—our killer is the one who turned the woman he’s searching for into a vampire. She was on Titanic when it sank meaning—,” Stiles wrote furiously across the notepad, the riddle next right beside it. “He was on it too. Now we could narrow this down several ways. Either by searching through the passengers class or going through who survived because as Lydia pointed out,” the hand holding the pen points to the redhead, “RMS Carpathia recorded the names of the survivors before they reached New York.”

Either method was good, but there was a problem with the latter. As Allison pointed out, “but what if they never knew she was there? I mean having a newly turned vampire on a ship filled with people is a recipe for disaster.”

Derek nods, agreeing with her, “Her eyes would’ve made it obvious.”

“How so?” Asked Isaac.

Peter is the one to explain, “Vampires in our world are different from what you see on TV. They aren’t these pale, corpse-like, individuals who look like they belong in the morgue. They’re rather human-like if they’re equipped with a special glimmer that allows them to come off as mortal.”

“Glimmer?” Lydia raised a brow, finding the word a bit comical given the creature they were dealing with.

“We’ll get to that. But any vampire who’s newly turned will have red eyes—blood red eyes.”

“How fitting,” Stiles couldn’t help but groan. “So what, are you saying she’s likely wearing contacts to hide her eyes.”

“Possibly,” Peter hums with a shrug, “wouldn’t be surprised if she is. This day in age makes it easier for vampires to conceal their nature. But considering our little vampire was turned in 1912…her creator probably hid her on the Carpathia—or as outrageous as it sounds, swam her across the remainder of the Atlantic ocean.”

Derek closes the book in front of him, detailing the events of the RMS Carpathia rescue of Titanic’s passengers. “However he saved her can wait,” he leans his hands onto the table, “We need to figure out the last clue of this riddle.” Moving the riddle to him, Derek reads, “Wearing the Heart of the Ocean, she’s closer than it seems.”

Lydia bites her lip, typing away on her laptop. “If I didn’t know it any better…it sounds like he’s trying to reference a piece of jewelry. Probably a necklace or something.”

Peter rubs his jaw deep in thought, “That could be the source of her glimmer.”

“The necklace?” Stiles wonders aloud.

“Usually most vampires would prefer a ring or bracelet,” he waves a hand, “It’s small and concealable. Very easy for a Druid to enchant the item and allow the vampire to give off the effect to other supernatural beings they’re human. Prevents them from being obliterated by the sun. That’s their glimmer. Sealed within the jewelry to act as a camouflage. So long as they have it on,” he shrugs lightly, “you’d never know what they truly are.”

“And she’s been passing off as a human in Beacon Hills. For God knows how long,” Lydia opens a separate browser, hands hovering over the keyboard. “If her necklace has a name like Heart of the Ocean it shouldn’t be too hard to find. We find the Heart of the Ocean, we find her.” Her words have Allison come over beside her, realization crossing her face.

“Isn’t that the name of the necklace Rose wore in the movie?” Right as she finished her sentence, the image popped up on the screen of said necklace after Lydia typed the name into Google. “So it was real after all?”

“Appears to be,” Lydia was just as amazed. Stiles leans over her other side, eyes bulging at the sight of the large blue heart-shaped diamond surrounded by tiny little white ones.

“That’s gotta be worth a billion dollars.”

“350 million to be exact,” Lydia reads off. “At least today it is. Back then it was worth probably not even a quarter of that price—but still big for its time.”

“So…” Isaac taps his finger to his mouth, glaring up at the ceiling from where he was seated, legs perched on the table. “We’re looking for a vampire—probably at least 120 give or take a few years—who is passing off as human because of a magic necklace worth more than our entire lives. Wonderful.”

Scott takes a glance, letting out a whistle, “That had to have belonged to a first-class passenger. I’d say we start there.”

“On it,” Lydia begins to search records of the names aboard Titanic with First-class tickets. While she’s doing that the pack gathers to the makeshift board Stiles had created, adding notes to it as they go.

Stiles tapes the new information on the necklace to next to the verse on the copy of the riddle they made. “Heart of the Ocean a.k.a the magic necklace making the vampire appear human. To be honest, if someone were wearing a necklace that extravagant in Beacon Hills it’d be noticeable.”

Scott agreed, “She’s probably keeping it under her clothes. I mean I would. Lydia, did you find anything on who it belonged to?”

The redhead makes a huff, “from what the article says,” she clicks on a link, “it belonged to American socialite Y/n L/n as a gift from her husband Theodore Ford on their wedding day. He had it custom made overseas on a trip to France.” Lydia’s eyes widened at the next line, “She was the niece of John Rockefeller and he was the nephew of Henry Ford.”

“Good God,” Stiles made a sound, many of the others showing a similar reaction. “What a match made in heaven…and money.”

“Great,” Peter plops onto the couch, “our vampire was a once billionaire socialite—well maybe not billionaire. That’s a far reach. Since she was only the niece of Rockefeller and her hubby was a Ford she probably only had a snippet of their families fortune.” The man rolls his neck, hands clasped on his lap with his legs kicked up. “She shouldn’t be too hard to find then. All we need is a picture.”

Derek gives his uncle an annoyed look, “We don’t if it’s her or not. Maybe the necklace was stolen by her creator and that’s how she got it.”

“What else does it say?” Allison turns her attention back to her best friend. In her head she couldn’t help but feel there was something missing. That they were so close to the answer.

Lydia continues on, “It says here that they married in 1901–Y/n aged nineteen and Theodore aged twenty-one. They had a son, Benjamin, born 1905 and Theodore died six years later in 1911 from a car accident.” She scrolls down a bit, brows furrowing a tad and makes a sound of ‘eureka!’ “Y/n was gifted two First-Class tickets for her and her son aboard Titanic by her uncle John Rockefeller. They boarded the ship during Titanic’s first stop to Cherbough, France….survivors of Titanic recall last seeing Y/n place her son Benjamin into a lifeboat before being denied entry since it had reached maximum capacity,” a feeling of heartbreak fills the redhead, soon followed by defeat as she reads “It is believed Y/n L/n drowned as the ship submerged beneath the surface on April 15, 1912, as her body was never recovered as one to have perished from hypothermia in the freezing waters. Nor was she listed on the records of survivors on RMS Carpathia. Her son Benjamin was soon taken in by her mother where he remained in New York City until his sudden death in 1918 by influenza.”

A moment of silence passes as they take in the information. For Allison and Lydia, they couldn’t help the sadness for the woman they didn’t even know. To have to say goodbye to your child, likely promising them you’d get on the next boat and would be reunited shortly, only to never see them again.

The redhead suddenly straightens her posture.

“What is it?” Scott hears her heartbeat quicken. Worry takes his features when Lydia appears as if she saw a guest. Everyone else looks the same when she brings a hand to her mouth. “Lydia?” There’s a slight tremor in her hand when she pulls it away.

“She’s closer than it seems.” She whispers the line from the final verse. Tone filled with near distraught.

Allison takes a hesitant step forward. From where they were all standing they could also see the light of the screen hitting Lydia’s complexion. Whatever was on it was hidden from their view. “Lydia…”

“I-I thought it meant that by finding the Heart of the Ocean we’d be able to spot whoever was wearing it. That we’d have to maybe knock on every door in Beacon Hills until we find whoever is hiding it—as stupid as that sounds. Because who in their right mind if they knew they were being hunted would just hide in plain sight? But….” her breath picks up, slight horror and astonishment as she stares back at the screen. “He knows where she is—h-he wants us to find her, because she can lead us to him.”

“Lydia….” Stiles slowly draws closer to her. Peter moves to stand from the couch, expression unreadable and as was Derek’s.

But Lydia’s eyes never move from the screen. “The riddle—it was just his game. He knows exactly where she is. He has to. Because she’s been under our nose all along—closer than we could’ve imagined.” Finally the redhead looks up to the anxious eyes of everyone, revealing the shocking truth with the slow turn of the laptop.

“She boarded Titanic as Y/n L/n,” the screen shows a sepia image causing Allison to gasp, Isaac to mutter ‘holy shit’, Stiles to drop his marker, and Scott to feel his stomach drop. Derek and Peter shared a look, Derek more anxious than his uncle. “But she’s been living as Loretta Andrews.”

There on the screen, listed as the socialite Y/n L/n and wearing the jaw-dropping necklace called the Heart of the Ocean, was a woman whose face the teenagers had seen every Monday to Friday for the last three months. Who looked no older than the age of 30 like in the picture and had arrived in Beacon Hills shortly before the spring semester.

Their English teacher, Loretta Andrews.

319 notes · View notes

targcrazies · 20 days

Text

Spring Wine Pt. 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC Premise: Rhaenyra Targaryen, referred to as Rhae by her family, is the heir of her mother, the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. In this Alternate Universe, Rhaenyra has her children with Daemon instead of Harwin and ascends the throne without an armed contest. However, tensions brew elsewhere, as Rhaenyra intends to marry her heir to her second child and oldest son, Jacaerys Velaryon.

WARNINGS: none, for this part, at least.

Part 1

The Queen Rhaenyra had begun to feel the absence of her father the moment she sat on the Iron Throne. The throne bore no comfort that commoners assumed royalties to have. If you shifted too much on the throne, it dug into whatever fabric, even the sturdiest of leather. If you sat too high, you could cut your buttocks and thighs. The seat was meant to keep you humble, grounded. Rhaenyra had soon realised it, even before her father’s demise. What made little sense to her was how different she felt as a woman. Much of her womanhood had worn her own crown, akin to hers, and they all submitted to it.

A fortnight after the ravens bearing the announcement of the Princess of Dragonstone’s betrothal to the Queen’s oldest son were sent out, the Queen received ravens of her own. Several. Two from High Lords, seven from Petty; the Queen initially paid little heed to the letters being brought in and unsealed. She resorted to reviewing ledgers and approving budgetary changes as her husband, the King Consort and the Hand, carefully reviewed the contents of the said letters. The Queen noticed a shift in her husband’s temperament, looking to her right to find his face hardened. “What is the matter, Daemon?”

Her Hand, her husband, and the father of their children looked at her for a moment before she nodded. “Everyone, vacate, now!”

The Lord of the Tides looked confused before getting to his feet, soon followed by the Master of Coin and the rest. Daemon looked pointedly at Steffon Darklyn, his wife’s sworn shield, who in turn looked toward his Queen. She nodded at him quietly, watching as the man left without a noise and closed the door gently.

“What is the matter, Daemon?”

“They’re challenging our daughter’s claim to the throne.” He splayed the letters across the table for the Queen to look at. Instead of skimming through the contents of the letters, she began to look for the names signed underneath some lords’ contention. Fossoway, Graves, Willum, Rhysling, Sloane, Varner, Westbrook, Wayne, and Hightower. The Queen felt the blood rise to her neck, heated and charged, as she slammed her fists on the table and rose to her feet. Daemon watched as his wife’s jaw clenched.

“How dare they?” She muttered quietly under her breath, “How dare they challenge my daughter’s claim and I?”

“It is Otto’s doing.” Daemon responds, “Otto must have made that gnat of his nephew reach out to the other lords to make the plea.”

“They’re looking to weaken our claim, my authority.” The Queen spoke, as if in a haze, “They cannot expect to be pardoned of an offense so grave.”

“Fucking Andals…” Daemon spat, “Rhae is being wed to Jace, what else do they want?”

“What they’ve always wanted,” she whispered, “A man on the throne. But they ought to know that such days have come to an end. No merit but the order of birth shall dictate who sits on the Iron Throne from now till eternity.”

Daemon walked to his Queen as she seethed in rage, gripping onto the large table before her, “Might I make a suggestion, your Grace?”

She looked at her husband, “Drop the formalities, Daemon. For once.”

His shoulders fell as his face lost tact, “We send out ravens to the whole realm, decreeing that any such talk will be considered as high treason. Rhaenyra the Younger shall be the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, second of her name, upon the Queen Rhaenyra’s passing.”

She tutted, “Don’t speak so ominously. Ravens will delay another plea, not stop them. We need to do something else.” The Queen walked to the great window behind her. The sun fell on her porcelain skin, ruddying her cheeks as the golden in her silver hair gleamed.

Daemon watched his Queen in awe. He often did. He knew his niece-wife would make a capable ruler, but once had he imagined her to be so dynamic. “What do you suggest, Rhaenyra?” He finally spoke.

She closed her eyes and inhaled in the soothingly swift breeze that passed, “Rhae must go to them.”

—

Otto Hightower was summoned to his nephew’s council rather early in the morning. Upon being dismissed as the Hand at the Red Keep, Otto soon found employment as his nephew’s Castellan. While the work was less demanding and Otto was left with little to do with himself, he took little slight in it. What he took the slight in was much, much different.

He liked to believe that his grandson, Prince Aemond Targaryen, had ambitions that he failed to ascertain. For why else would the boy choose to yield his obedience to his half-sister and not his own brother of flesh and blood?

He remembered vividly when Syrax’s shriek was heard throughout King’s Landing. Otto and Alicent had already thrown those aware of the King’s demise in the black cells, in hopes of keeping the news shielded. They had begun arrangements for the coronation, Aegon was found deep in the bosom of the woman he had come to adore on the streets of Silk, blithely unaware of his father’s last breath. “Where’s Aemond?” Alicent had asked and Helaena had shrugged quietly. No one had thought the boy would go as far as to fly to Dragonstone and escort his half-sister and her family to the Red Keep.

Otto would never forget the sight of nine whole dragons flying together. The sun had shied away and night had befallen the capital. Despite Vhagar, Vermithor, Caraxes, and Meleys being bigger than Syrax, Rhaenyra was seen flying first onto the Red Keep. Closely behind her rose Rhaenyra the Younger on Vermithor and Daemon Targaryen on Caraxes. Rhaenyra’s once good mother and cousin Rhaenys flew with her grandsons and all of Rhaenyra’s sons, young Viserys sat with her on Meleys. Behind them all, flew Vhagar. Otto could still picture the blue stone glistening in the sky as his grandson smugly wore his betrayal on his face. The betrayal belonged there, in his small grin, his single eye in obeisance to the daughter and her children Otto had worked so hard to depose. All those years for nothing. Whenever Rhaenyra the Younger quirked up the side of her lips to smile, she looked like the Rogue Prince. It made little sense, for the Prince was only a great uncle and could not have passed his looks so far ahead unless his seed was her progenitor. Otto had thought, “You know who else looks like Daemon? Aemond. Aemond the Betrayer.”

He was further incensed when his oldest grandson looked furtively relieved at his half-sister’s appearance. He could not bother to furrow his brows to honour the frustration that arose from the heart of his mother, who had conspired and plotted to place him upon the throne with all her might. He simply seemed… bored, as if the failed efforts of his mother and his grandsire meant less than the bosoms he had his silver crown nestled upon just earlier. Otto intended to take the goblet he drank from, incessantly, and smash in upon his sharp Targaryen nose. How he’d have relished at the sight of the useless, precarious boy bleeding, frowning for once, agonised at the assault.

Otto chose to stand still and watch as the preparations of the coronation were taken over by his traitorous younger grandson, who pushed Cole to oblige. Daemon took over the preparations of the funeral that were to precede the Coronation, the Dowager Queen was only allowed the privilege to wrap her late husband’s carcass of a corpse in fashion.

Soon after the events, the Hightowers were sent back packing. Young Daeron was already in service to Alicent’s cousin, and the Queen Rhaenyra remarked, “How he’d love to have his mother and grandfather!” Aegon was given the castle left vacant upon some Lord’s death that had left it uninherited, with lands and livestocks and servants. Helaena had happily taken it upon herself to vacant her and her children’s chambers, crooning at the prospect of finally foregoing the grandeur she deemed fickle and ostentatious. Aegon seemed nonchalant, but Otto knew that deep inside, the boy was glad to be rid of the burden his mother had imposed upon his shoulders that wanted nothing but whores’ heads as they filled his belly with booze and his head with superficial praise. Who knows how much of his coffers were depleted at the expense of his hedonist pursuits.

When Otto opened the door to the council room, he found only his nephew and Maester Gladwynn. “Lord Hightower,” he jerked his head, ever-so-slightly, down, “You called for me?”

“Uncle, please have a seat.” Ormund’s smile was reminiscent of his grandfather’s, his eyes twinkled akin to his mother’s. “We have done as you had requested. The ravens have been sent. Lord Tarly and Lord Beesbury have, most graciously, denied the proposition.”

Otto’s left eye twitched, “Were no bargains made?”

“They were offered men and a lax on taxes that they humbly refused. I made no further insistences.” Ormund sipped on, what Otto assumed, was honeyed wine. “I spared little effort, nuncle, but I did not resort to attrition or aggression for I see little utility in such plea. The Queen ascended the throne on the merit of the order of her birth, it’d make little sense for her to not continue this as tradition for her own children. She’d be deemed unfair and weak.”

“Her case, as the parchments state, could be considered an exception. She was the only child that the first Queen Aemma Arryn bore the King.”

“But not the only trueborn child born of his seed, nuncle.” Ormund chuckled, “I only did as you pleaded because I know the Queen would refrain from waging wars. Her stepmother and her half-brothers are of my blood, and the Lords who did consent only did so of mine own volition, she knows. And the Queen must know, if she has the slightest of wit, why I must have done so.”

Otto watched his nephew savour the wine in his mouth and swallow leisurely before the man spoke again, “The Queen is the first of her name and sex on the Iron Throne, she will not want to make enemies. The highest threat she will decree is that our tongues will get pulled out with hot pincers and fed to her dragon if we even make a peep as such. And, we will all quiet down as per her grace's orders. If the Gods be good, her daughter will one day rule Westeros, and we can only pray that Rhaenyra Targaryen, the second of her name, is as just as the Father and as merciful as the Mother.”

Otto studied his nephew’s face. Recently widowed, he had taken Samantha Tarly for his wife, and yet he had failed to convince the Lady’s father to join hands. Otto knew rather well at that point that his insistence meant nothing at all. It was almost as if Lord Tarly had refused another serving of a pie or another filling of mead. The old man knew then that his nephew had done little to stir any support. He knew that his effort to anger the Queen into hostility had failed terribly. The Queen would not be viewed as cruel, at most rash, perhaps. But who would not be at an endeavour so treasonous?

While Otto could not help but resent his nephew’s appeasement, he also could not overlook the way he had complied to his Castellan’s request while keeping his seat safe. Ormund had taken after his father, and he had taken well.

—

Rhae had become well-acquainted with her mother’s lack of tact at that point, but it still stung to see her ever-loving and gracious mother turn so stoic, devoid of love and affection.

“Do you know what you must do, girl?”

“Must I fly to Lord Hightower and the others, your Grace?”

“Never answer a question with another, Rhae, seems feeble.” The Queen looked pointedly at her daughter, “Tell me what you believe you must do.”

Rhae breathed her chest full of air, “I must fly to Lord Hightower and the others, your Grace.” She did not know how to meet her mother’s eyes anymore.

“The Dragon does not concern itself with the opinions of the sheep.” Daemon snorted, “Child, you must visit only Ormund Hightower out of courtesy. The rest can suck on their balls.”

Rhae noticed her mother suppress a grin, her eyes resting upon the King Consort, half in reprimand and half in amusement. The moment she turned to look at her heir, the warmth of her eyes dried into stones, “I agree, you must only fly to Lord Hightower and speak to him directly. The ravens will surely fly to them, but you must get there first. I shall excuse the both of you.” The Queen looked to her left, where her oldest son sat in silence, “Get saddled, both of you!”

Rhae’s head shot from her mother, to her father, then to her brother. “But Mother-”

“Your Grace, may I speak before?” Jace spoke, his eyes upon his sister. The Queen settled back into her chair, nodding. “They ask for me to be made heir. Shall it not be futile for the Princess Rhaenyra to arrive with me? She’d be Queen one day, with or without me. I believe it would serve our case more for the Princess of Dragonstone to fly on her mount, Vermithor, on her own.”

The Queen looked at both her children, in deep ponderance she remained as the clocks may have turned thrice. Finally, she huffed out, “Fine, son, you make sense. What do you think, Rhae?”

“I was about to propose the same as my betrothed, Mother. I should be the one making the journey.”

“We cannot let you go unattended, however. I mean no disregard to your capabilities, but the heir of Seven Kingdoms must have an escort. I’d have you wait out until some of our knights could ride there on horseback, but that would take more time than I can allow. The rest of the boys are too young to assume such a duty.”

Rhae sat up straight, “That only leaves the King Consort and Prince Aemond, Mother.”

The Queen hummed, “The King Consort is busy, and Aemond is Lord Hightower’s own cousin.” She nodded in consideration, her mouth shifting in ease, “The matter is settled then. Jace, could you fetch Aemond?”

Jace regretted every word he had spoken that day, “Yes, your Grace.” He muttered quietly under his breath and left hurriedly. The Queen seemed flummoxed, “Whatever got into the boy…”

—

“Remember the night I claimed Vhagar?” Aemond spoke as he mounted his dragon and Rhae hers. “It was a fortnight after you had claimed Vermithor. I was positively anguished to have my only dragonless friend snatched from me.”

“Now you ride the largest beast, the only one reminiscent of Aegon’s, Rhaenys’s, and Visenya’s conquest.” She settled on her dragon, gently rubbing the scales of her old man.

“I’d have any dragon now, happily, as long as I get to take upon the sky with you.”

Rhae chuckled, “Might I say, you have made me begin to reconsider my choices. My brother does not speak nearly as much.”

“You don’t even look at the boy!” Aemond laughed as he fastened his saddle chains, “To whom shall he speak? The atmosphere?”

Rhae relished at the sound of his laughter, rarely witnessed by anybody else. Perhaps only by Jacaerys, who had recently developed a spiteful, voyeuristic delight in watching the two converse. He may not know the sound as much, but he knew the look of it. And he imagined that that is how he may have looked had she loved him.

#game of thrones #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x niece

21 notes · View notes

deadmenandthedivine · 7 months

Text

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter twelve: drowned in insignificant details

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, disassociation, thoughts of self harm and annihilation, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 4593

“The ravens have already been sent so preparations can be made, but we must come to a decision on the official invitations.”

“That is your first matter at hand? What pictures go on which piece of parchment?” Daemon sneered.

“No, my Prince, it is merely the most time sensitive. Perhaps they should have a tower and a dragon? Both strong and formidable sigils to symbolize the strength of the union.” The Queen stated with a cold calmness.

“No towers, no fucking towers!” Daemon snapped.

“What of iron studs or runes? I think towers should be included only if the sigils of House Royce are as well.” Princess Rhaenyra suggested, giving her husband an unwavering warning stare.

Needless to say, Prince Daemon did not like his first late wife’s insignia anywhere near the topic of discussion either. He growled and slammed his goblet on the table much like a child. Lady Rhea and her house were among his sorest subjects. Throughout her entire life, the princess had tiptoed around the subject of her own mother. Careful not to pull an untethered outburst out of her father. To the point where the mere mention of the long dead woman from another party’s innocent mouth was enough to make the princess tense. The Prince was no stranger to a violent outburst or a barrage of verbal assaults. His wife, too, knew it well. Yet Princess Rhaenyra did not seem to cower like Princess Maetilda did. Rhaenyra poked him like a sleeping bear. Without fear of his response. Without tensing for what came next. Unlike his wife, the Rogue Prince’s daughter was still shaken from the night before. Each time she looked at him, she could feel the sting in her cheek. It was still pink that morning and her maids had to use every remedy they could think of to take the swell away. But most pretended they did not see it, that her cheeks had always been two different colors. A few pairs of eyes lingered, but not for long.

“Perhaps you should sell me to the Triarchy while you’re at it.” He grumbled.

“Might I suggest two dragons that meet in the middle? One of them colored green and white, the other red and black.” Aemond piped up.

Maetilda spared a quick glance toward her betrothed. He had a goblet in hand, just like her father, but was not flinging it around or throwing it onto the table. Regardless, the resemblance between the two was growing uncanny, making her stomach churn and flip and knot in a wave of nausea. What if Aemond began to act like him? Would she be as steadfast and fearless as Rhaenyra? She was not sure. And that was a scary thought, a scary possibility. She hoped she was wrong. The two shared a resemblance, yet the King’s second son was far more handsome. Harder to read, but intriguing. He had a face that she wanted to stare at. She could not deny it. His eye, his nose, his chin. He was ethereal, as if he was etched in stone. His shoulders were squared and hunched. His stare was fixed on his uncle as he swirled the contents of his cup. She wondered what thoughts were running through his mind, if they had anything to do with the words he spoke in her chambers. As her husband, he would put her father in his place. Of course, a Hightower would be all too excited to do such a thing. She stewed as she reminded herself that Aemond had likely become just that — a tower wearing a dragon’s skin. He had said it himself the night before, he would not sit and allow her family to further disrespect him. Not after Lucerys took his eye. She wondered if the wound continued to cause him pain to that day. In the time she had seen him again, he had not let on if it had. Instead he sat diligently for a meeting on their wedding and thoughtfully contributed. Seemingly more mentally present in the room than herself. Both Alicent and Rhaenyra smiled and nodded, even Daemon did not grumble at the proposition. He had successfully made a compromise in the span of one suggestion. The Queen gave the artisan who stood before the table an official nod to signify that the decision was final. He smiled and nodded eagerly in return.

“Any florals, your Grace?” The artisan asked respectfully.

“Oh yes, certainly. Aster, myrtle, purple columbine, daffodil, honeysuckle, and iris.” Alicent’s answer was fast, consulting no one.

No one argued. The artisan smiled and nodded eagerly again.

“Perhaps we should let our Queen marry her son in place of my daughter. Her Grace seems to have already planned for it.” Daemon goaded with a sneer.

“Husband!” Rhaenyra scolded before turning to the room, “My apologies. It seems my husband has gotten too lost in his cups this morning. It is quite emotional to see all of our daughters getting married so quickly.”

“Yes, it is a very emotional time.” Alicent agreed.

“How much are these invitations going to cost? Can we not send a pageboy with doves in a box?” Lord Beesbury, the Master of Coin and Lord Treasurer, interjected after looking up from his book full of numbers. “I mean no offense to you, Mister Booker. I only mean to say that the cost of the invitations only increases with the number of great houses invited.”

“With all due respect, Lord Beesbury, this is not only a royal wedding. As my husband has declared, it is the joining of two branches within the great royal house. No expense shall be spared.”

“Make sure there is a seven-pointed star in prominent display at the top. We must not forget to honor those who have given us such a union.” Ser Otto spoke up.

“Then you must also include a symbol from each of the Valyrian gods. We best not forget to honor those that granted us the Throne in the first place.” Rhaenyra added.

“Will there be room left on the invitation for the words?” Lord Jason Lannister laughed at his own joke before he turned to the artisan, “Do you know how to read? Are you in charge of the words?”

“Do not answer that, Mister Booker,” Princess Rhaenyra shot dagger eyes at the Lannister before turning to the artisan, “The Marriage of Prince Aemond & Princess Maetilda Targaryen. By command of the King — followed by each houses’ name — you are directed to be present in King’s Landing promptly before the Equinox of the Flower Moon.”

“How many feasts shall we have before the wedding? We must tell the families to arrive in time.” Lord Jason suggested.

“There shall be exactly six prior. The wedding shall precede the seventh feast.” Otto stated.

“Absolutely not. Thirteen feasts, with the wedding as the fourteenth.” Rhaenyra pushed back.

“Fourteen feasts! My apologies, your Grace, I may need to see the maester after hearing such a number.” Lord Beesbury chortled.

“Fourteen feasts for fourteen flames. A royal wedding never to be forgotten. Nothing less for my eldest daughter.” Daemon pushed farther.

“Absurd!” Otto barked back, “The Seven should curse the union if any such thing took place.”

“Feasts are not sacrilegious, grandfather. If the ceremony should be in that of The Faith, we may honor our heritage in other ways. Fourteen feasts, which require fire in its making, to honor the Fourteen Flames. And we spare no expense, as my mother already stated.” Aemond spoke with finality.

“Can the Red Keep house all those extra lords and ladies for an entire fortnight?” Ser Otto countered.

“There are plenty of rooms! Are there not? We’ve held tourneys that last longer.” Rhaenyra bellowed.

“Yes, your Grace, but the waste. The castle may begin to smell. A situation we best not risk.” Ser Otto explained.

“‘Smell better than you on any given day.” Daemon grumbled, slurring his words.

‘You smell so pretty, ñuha dōna,’ the words echoed in her mind. Spine rigid as she sat up uncomfortably straight. Her cheeks felt hot as she was certain she was the only one plagued by her thoughts.

The Hand’s response was quick and overly pious, “Pardon me, Prince Daemon. But you may be excused if you cannot remain appropriate.”

“I will excuse it this one time, Ser Otto, as I am a man of mercy. But I will remind you that it is not your place to tell me where to be or what behavior is appropriate. Tread carefully.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Only if you make it one.”

“Enough!” Alicent and Rhaenyra snapped simultaneously.

The room fell completely silent. The princess twiddled her thumbs in her lap. Daemon could sustain anger and a grudge longer than anyone the princess had ever known. A single marriage was not about to quell his ages of hatred for Ser Otto. He had hated his brother’s advisor for longer than any of his daughters had been alive. After the night before, she had expected her father’s insults and more. But if what Maetilda and her knight had done that same evening worked, then the arguments might have been a sign. She could not be bound in marriage to anyone if no agreements could be made. If the marriage would prove to do the opposite of its intended purpose. However, Aemond seemed to be in a compromising mood. If his actions of the night prior proved anything, he had to be the culprit behind the stones. At the very least, he had proven that he knew how to sneak into her room. She did not understand him, where his motivations came from. What did he mean when he said they were more alike than she realized? In what ways were they alike? Certainly he was not that motivated from a few commonalities. As she watched, those around them actually seemed to listen to him, value his word. She was expected to remain silent unless spoken to, even in her own wedding plans. It was a rule uniquely hers, never given to her younger sisters or other siblings. Her father hated it when she stuck her neck out around others. In his words, she could never say the right thing or always said too much. Despite how hard she tried, it was always wrong. She could never figure out why. Yet at that moment, the princess did not raise any complaints. Unsure what she would even want to say. The wedding did not feel real in the first place. A feeling in her gut told her that all their planning would be in vain; her father would find a way. He was a man with 10,000 and 1 contingency plans. He would sooner drop dead before he allowed such an event to actually happen. Perhaps she was the only one who saw their planning for the farce it was.

“Shall we talk entertainment then? Each feast should have a different theme!” Daemon smirked, downing another cup.

“Heavens no! I always get the days mixed up.” Lord Beesbury shivered.

“Shall I have them written out for you, Lord Beesbury?” Lord Wydle, Master of Law, interjected genuinely.

“Or would the parchment be too expensive?” Lord Lannister teased.

“There should not be anything that deters attention away from the bride. Themes might allow other ladies to upstage.” Alicent disagreed, “Unless done properly.”

“Is there anything the Crown cannot do?” Daemon countered.

The princess’s skin tingled as their conversation continued. She did not like to imagine lords and ladies from across the Realm all gathered to watch her. To witness her wedding and bedding. She had to fight the grimace that wanted to smear itself across her face. The thought of such attention fixed on her was enough to make her lose her meal, but she kept it swallowed down. She hated to imagine what they would say, the snide whispers about how the princess was only quickly wed to save her good name. To save her from a life of solitude and disgrace in the eyes of the kingdoms. Pathetic, that’s what they would think of her. Pathetic, ugly, lacking any sense of dignity. She would be the joke of the Realm. They would hold their bellies and laugh through the entire fortnight. Through each meal. She could already picture it. And others wondered why Helaena shrunk into herself. It was not fun to be the topic of the whispers, the lady being watched, the butt of the joke. Maetilda wished she could crawl under the table and never come out. Perhaps if she acted completely ridiculous, Ser Otto would convince the King to call it all off. Her reputation would be shattered regardless. It would not matter if it was her fault or theirs, no lord would want her after. She wondered if that would be her fate, marked by the Gods. Inevitable to happen. Cursed to a life of solitude. Once her father died, she would be too old to find another husband. She would return to the unfamiliar castle she was born in as a woman grown, never to leave it for fear of shame. She would wallow and rot in its halls. Perhaps she would find the ghost of her mother.

“There should be a tribute to both of our dragons. The last living ones to be born in Valyria.” Aemond’s voice cut through the hum of them all again, “Would you enjoy that, Princess Maetilda?”

Startled by her sudden inclusion, she blinked a few times before fully realizing she had been asked a question. The princess sat up straighter and adjusted her posture before nodding her head, “Yes. A tribute to the last eyes to see Valyria in all its beauty.”

“Perhaps have a song composed about them? Or a tapestry made? Which would you prefer?” He pressed farther as the room watched them.

“Why not both?” She shrugged, unsure of which option was the correct answer.

“Yes, of course!” Aemond nodded to his mother, “And there should be portraits made, multiple. Both at the ceremony and in the portrait room.”

Portraits, tapestries, songs. All for display. A wedding all for show. The night before, Aemond had been so sure, so certain. But as time took more, Maetilda only felt more unsettled. Like sailing on a ship stalked by a leviathan, her next moments felt numbered. If she did not act, she would be in its belly. What was the purpose of delaying the inevitable? Aemond still looked so fixed, determined, beyond any doubt, a sort of confidence that only a prince could have. She was almost jealous of him, almost. But then she remembered her father again. He lived inside her head. He would not be happy with her for such a submissive agreement.

“Worry not, nephew. I will take it into my own hands to instruct the artists to paint the bride prettier. You must not be troubled with such tasks on your wedding day.”

The princess’s heart sank to her stomach. Her father had insulted her. And for what reason? There were eyes on her, she could feel them. But she kept her stare fixed forward on the wall. Chin up.

“Please do not bother, uncle. We all know you will be far too lost in the festivities to remember.” Aemond threw the rest of his drink down his throat, “She’ll be more than pretty warming my bed.”

The father of the future bride barked with laughter, clapping his hands together and slapping his knee. As the howls droned on, they grew drier and drier. He was the only one that laughed. The princess could feel each change in pitch claw at her skin like talons. She felt her blood pool in her feet as she listened to her father’s very public shaming. It had to be some sort of joke or game. Why else would he speak of her in such a way in front of the Small Council? Why else would he give lords and ladies an invitation to insult them? He was either stupid or plotting. While he was never known to be stupid, she could not see any of the logic.

“Would you like a portrait of that too?”

“Yes, I shall have two made and send the second to you.”

“You’re eager. Aren’t you? Like a dog on a chain. Is that your grandfather holding the other end? Or is it your mama?”

Not a sound was made. The uncle and nephew stared each other down with stern red faces, furrowed brows, and locked jaws. If they were dogs, they would have been growling. The princess could not tear her eyes away, anxious to see what punishment her father would rain down upon her betrothed. Her skin tickled as if spiders scurried all over her. Had the sleeves of her dress not itched at her arms, she would have felt completely naked to the room. She wanted to tell them off, to demand their respect. But it would get her nowhere. They owned her. Through marriage, her father would be handing Aemond the keys to her cell. For Aemond to own. If the Gods gave them children, he would own them too. She could die, and he could do as he wished with them. Just as her father had with her. But the man liked control too much to hand the keys over nicely.

“No matter what the King declares, that will always be my daughter, boy.” Daemon spat, “Those Gods you worship may giveth, but they shall also taketh.”

A threat. In front of everyone, the entire Small Council. He was a bold man, capable of far more than anyone else in the Realm – only second to the King. Able to commit unthinkable acts, say unspeakable things, without fear of losing his head. The most his brother would do is banish him. No assassin would be brave enough to collect any bounty on his head. Not with Ceraxes and Dark Sister at his side. Despite this, the princess had expected more out of the legendary man. Where were the fists? Where were the swords? Where were the consequences? Or were they only reserved for her now? Her chest felt tight as she tried to keep her face from betraying how she felt.

“They give us all what we deserve.” Ser Otto righteously interjected.

“I know what you think I deserve, Lord Asswipe. But are you aware of what you deserve?”

“I will not hear another word of it.” Rhaenyra commanded.

Just as she had declared, all words stopped. All the eyes in the room darted about, anxious to see who made the next move. Maetilda was not the only one on edge. Everyone seemed afraid to speak. All except her father, who only continued to drink. He set his goblet down on the table with a loud echo, causing the princess to jump. He reveled under the supercharged attention of the room. He smiled.

“The privy is more deserving of my presence than this room. Planning may continue tomorrow.” Daemon stated as he gathered himself to leave.

“They must continue now. We will run out of time.” The Queen retorted sharply, “We will proceed with or without you, Prince Daemon.”

“You shall continue without the bride as well then.” Daemon chuckled before setting his hard eyes on his daughter, “Maetilda, come.”

On instinct, the princess nodded her head obediently. She rose out of her chair in a trancelike state, only stopping when she heard Queen Alicent say her name. Her legs froze midstep. Her neck snapped to the side to meet the owlish stare of the Hightower queen. “Come to dinner in my chambers this evening. Just you.” Her brown eyes flickered to her father warningly before nodding to the princess, officially dismissing her from the room.

The three sets of footsteps echoed down the staircase together. Ser Wyllam dutifully followed behind them. His armor would scratch every few steps. It formed an odd rhythm with the pounding of her heart and the pumping of her blood. After a few paces, a rough hand idly gripped the back of her neck. Leading her firmly back in the direction of her chambers. Certainly the servants had heard him behind her doors the evening before. Certainly they had begun to talk. She was still marked from it after all. She wondered what had been said, who all had heard. Would the lords and ladies talk too?

“Rhaenyra knew what she was doing when she demanded we travel by ship.” He stopped himself from speaking farther, Ceraxes’ name on the edge of his lips.

“Ao zālagon se sombāzmion ilagon?” (Would you burn the castle down?)

“Nyke gaomagon skoros iksis bēvilagon. Hae ao kessa gaomagon skori nyke udrāzma hen ao.” (I would do what is necessary. As you shall do when I command of you.)

The walk had been far easier, less painful, but just as tense as it had been the night before. It seemed to be their new tradition, their new way of bonding within the Red Keep – tensely making their way to the princess’s chambers together. She missed his small moments of tenderness. The relaxation in his shoulders while they lived at Dragonstone. If she was wed, would he visit her at the Keep? Where would she go after the King died? Would he ever allow her and Aemond to live at Runestone? Would Aemond hate her castle too? Would she? What of the Royce family that remained there? Would they reject all the Targaryens in their family home? She would not blame them. As much as she longed to return, she found herself worried she would be a foreigner in her own home. Just as she felt at the Red Keep. Although nothing felt as bad as she had felt at the Red Keep. Poor little princess, she thought. When the father and daughter arrived at the same door he had slapped her behind the night before, he gave her a knowing smile. They entered the room silently. Just the same, her father locked the door behind him. But instead of his menacing actions the night before, he gently stepped forward and wrapped her in his embrace. His hugs were always good. He always knew just how much to squeeze. Even when he reeked of alcohol, they brought a strange sense of comfort. Yet the princess could not wipe the memories of the night before from her mind. Her body remained rigid, on edge in close proximity to the man. She would not let her guard down so easily, despite how much she had missed the softer side of him. Where had this father been then? The side of him that cared how she felt. The side of him that dried her tears instead of mocked them. He stood back after he pulled away and held her at arms’ length.

“You seem tense.” He pointed out as he gently squeezed up and down her arms.

She hesitated as she formulated her response, “Are you angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry with you?”

“…When Aemond asked if I liked the tribute, I did not tell him no.”

“Worry not, Maetilda. I am not angry with you for agreeing to tributes for your dragons. It would be an insult to the great kings before us to disagree with such a proposal in Shrykos and Vhagar’s honor.”

“Thank you, father.” She nodded dutifully, glad that he had not nitpicked her for once. Almost wondering if he had heard her thoughts when she had longed for his softer side. But as she continued to stew, it felt more and more wrong. Why had he not nitpicked?

“You did well to remind the council just where she hatched from, where we come from.”

“Yes,” She nodded eagerly, “It would do them good to remember.”

Prince Daemon menacingly held her gaze. She tried to hold back her shaking as she wondered if he would grab her hair and smother her to death in her pillows while her guard was down. Was he trying to play a joke on her? Without question. Anticipation built within her for the punchline. The smell of wine permeated off of him like a foggy cloud even at their slight distance. It made her nose scrunch. The smell and his mood swings seemed to be the only signs of his intoxication. He did not sway or stumble. His hand was firm as he reached upward from her arm and lightly caressed the same cheek he had slapped repeatedly the night before. Brushed his knuckles over the skin. It was still pinker than the other. Yet no one had said a word about it. The only ones whose eyes lingered were enough to count on a single hand. Her father, himself, and Rhaenyra. Queen Alicent, Prince Aemond, and Lord Larys Strong. Three of which had already seen her face before the meeting. Her father and Aemond in the shadows of the night before, and Rhaenyra that morning. Yet not a question about it. The lack of acknowledgment hurt like a bee sting on her heart. Did they not care to know what happened? Did they not care to know she was alright? Aemond had. He had come to check on her. He had heard what her father had said and wanted to make sure she was okay. He had shown her kindness, and she had told him to leave. Guilt began to drip into her blood and spread throughout her veins. In pursuit of her father’s happiness, she had insulted her betrothed. She had hit and slapped him, taken her inner turmoil out on him without hesitation. Was she the one in the wrong? Now she had left the very room where their wedding was being planned, and he had remained. She had listened to the commands of her drunken father, and he had upheld responsibility.

“How many decisions will be made in our absence?” She inquired.

“If they were smart, they would have agreed to meet later.” He replied, shaking his head as if it were a fist at the Gods, “However, if your stepmother stayed, it is hard to say. She likes to play monarch, you know.”

“She is the heir.”

“She is, and I am her husband.”

“Yes, father.”

“And you are the Lady of Runestone, Maetilda. You are in charge of it now. But as soon as you have a husband…”

“How can I be in charge if I have never even been there?”

“You do not need to be there to be in charge.”

“Is that why the King dragged himself to the Throne Room?” She crossed her arms.

“A good ruler knows when their presence is required.”

“And mine has not been for how long now?”

“No one is trying to take the Bronze Throne. There is no need for you to defend the damn thing.”

“The Hightowers are.”

Daemon’s eyebrow hiked up in interest at the princess’s words. He smirked and it filled her chest with warmth. Commendation. She had a point, and he had realized it. His face had given it away. Whether he had wanted to give her such praise or not.

“They are,” He nodded, “And now you must defend your Keep from here.”

“Me? Here? What?”

“While at dinner with the Queen tonight. Make the ugly bat regret her own marriage to begin with.”

“…But how?”

“You are so naturally gifted at angering me, I am certain you do not require my help.”

A/N: lol i heard you guys asking to give Maetilda a break!!! so she got a hug!! but also she got a hug?? i promise there is light at the end of the tunnel!! we just have to be dramatic first. Chapter Thirteen will be posted shortly! (most likely tomorrow)

also, i had a lot of fun with the dialogue in this chapter. hopefully it’s not too cheesy! i was making myself giggle as i wrote it so i hope y’all like it too 0:)

TAGLIST: @marvelescvpe @snh96 @imsoshygirl @faesspace

xoxo messy

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd imagine #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond x fem!oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #hotd #dad!daemon #dead men and the divine

45 notes · View notes

nyxindustries · 9 months

Text

After The Parents | Tony Stark

Fandom: Mcu(Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Pairing: Tony Stark X reader, Tony stark x Female reader, Young Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do NOT Interact! Sexual Intercourse, Meeting Tony parents (Nice Maria and Howard) Aftercare, Slight praise kink, BREIF cum play( If you squint) Oral Play ( M receiving), explicit languages, explicit content.

| Part 1 | Masterlist |

Arriving outside of Tony Parent's house as you felt your nerves hit you like a truck.

Glancing over at Tony as he put the car in park and looks back at you.

“You’ll be okay. They are going to love you.” Tony says and you nod

“I'm nervous! Your dad is Howard Stark and you know I’m a massive fan of his work and industry.” You say quietly, Tony chuckles.

“Which makes you even more perfect, get my dad talking about his industry and what we do in class, get my mom talking about baking and anything else that’s not related to my father's business. You’ll be okay.” Tony says and you nod softly.

Seeing the front door open as your nerves hit you like a truck. Tony kisses you quickly as he got out of the car and places the keys in his pocket. Tony walks over to your side, opening the door like he usually does for you.

Getting out as you smile softly, “Thank you, Tony” you say, and he closes the door as he takes your hand.

“No need to say Thank you.” Tony says as you giggle, “watch it the steps here are a bit weird” Tony says as you then look up at the giant mansion they own. Gorgeous house, the scheme almost brings modern white and black for the time of the 90s.

Going up the steps carefully as you saw Maria and Howard Stark standing at the door with wide smiles. You made sure you came with the most beautiful dresses and the most covered-up dress you had. It was a black dress that came down to your knees, it was spaghetti, so you had a jacket to cover up your arms, and you wore small wedges and not heels. You put on simple jewelry with the help of Tony.

Smiling at his parents

“Oh, You must be Y/n!” His mother says and she smiles.

“I am. Mr. And Mrs. Stark!” You say, and they smile almost instantly.

“Please Y/n it’s Howard and Maria,” Howard says, and you nod.

“Of course.” You say as they walked inside and you and Tony followed behind.

“Beautiful home.” You say as Howard smiles

“Thank you! I invested a lot in my company and home to make my wife and son comfortable along with happiness.” Howard says.

“You’re doing a wonderful job, especially with your business, by the way, huge congratulations on getting that contract. I keep up with Stark Industries because I’m writing my Bachelor final on the impact you leave on the work, Mr.S-… Howard.” You say, and Howard turns to you.

“Why thank you. You are very knowledgeable then. We could use someone like you at Stark Industries. I heard you're getting into a path to get your Ph.D. too.” Howard says, and you nod.

“Yes, yes, I want to get my doctorate in Engineering and Physics, if anything, probably chemistry too. Hoping, one day, I could work at your company.” You say, and Howard nods with great respect at you.

“Well, I wish you all the best! You’ll be fine! I’ll help you with job searching and so will Tony if you get what I mean.” Howard says and you nod as Tony smiles. You just won Howard over, that’s for sure. You can see Maria smiling over at you, she likes you, but you haven’t won her over yet.

“Oh please! Enough with the business, let’s eat dinner! I made just enough for everyone.” Maria says as you guys walk into the dining room, which is a huge dining room with pictures and family portraits on one wall against the white wall with some gray decor too.

Seeing the food set out on a table as Tony walks up to a chair, pulling your chair out like he always does when you guys go to eat somewhere or even at home occasionally. Home means, you moved in with Tony two months ago after dating for about a couple of months now since the first wonderful date.

“Oh! You cook! I love cooking too, but I do love baking, but can never find the time with school and working as of right now.” You say, and Maria lit up.

“Yes! I love baking! I made some of my famous coconut cream pie for tonight. Not only that, but I hope you like coconut.”

“Like? No, I love it. It’s going to be delicious, I can tell.” You say and Maria laughs

“I like you already! Tony! You choose a good one!” Maria says and you smile more, turning red.

“Thank you, mom,” Tony says as he finally sits down with the rest of us as he took off his jacket.

“Mom, the food looks wonderful. “ Tony says and you nod.

“It does, and smells it too!” You say and everyone chuckled softly with you.

“Oh dig in!” Maria says as everyone began serving themselves, but Tony grabs your plate as you smile at him as he began serving you.

“You didn’t have to,” you say quietly and Tony chuckled

“Yeah or you would have been too shy to do so,” Tony says as he put the gravy on the mashed potatoes on your plate before placing it in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly and Tony shakes his head

Maria and Howard watched the interaction as they look at each other, it reminded them of themselves when they were younger.

“So, Y/n what do your parents do? I mean they must be supportive of all of your big plans” Howard asks, and you sigh quietly as you look down for a moment

“My father is very supportive, he is the reason I am the way I am. My father is my whole world to me, He is a blue-collar worker, he’s a construction worker. Loves building things, he's always fixing something around our house.” You say with a soft smile, and Howard and Maria smile back.

“That’s wonderful, What about your mother?” Maria asks and you look at her.

“My mother died when I was 10, breast cancer… Before she got diagnosed, She was a nurse.” You say, and Howard sighs.

“I apologize for your loss.” They both say and you nod.

“Thank you,” you say and Howard nods as you all begin eating in silence.

“You mentioned work? What do you do besides school” Maria says

“I work at the hospital, Just an in-training clinical position, I help nurses take vitals and check people in and communicate with other staff, things like that.” You say and Maria smiles

“That’s lovely!” She says, and you giggle softly.

“Thank you!” You say and Tony smiled at you, but more as everyone began eating. The conversation carried on at the table until the end of dinner.

—

Helping clear the table with Maria as Tony and Howard went on to talk about the business part of Stark Industries.

“Here’s the rest of the plates from the table, Maria!” You say as you hand them to Maria as she cleans the rest of them.

Going back out as you cleared the rest of the hot sauce and whatnot and helped her put those away, then grab a rag and wipe the table clean.

“So, what made you interested in my son?” She asks as you chuckle, completely caught off guard by the question.

“Tony… he asked me first in the middle of a rainstorm with a rose. I don’t know at first I was never interested in him, then we worked together in school, then I didn't know I just fell in love with him. Then, when he asked to take me on a date all I could think is yes, yes he’s the perfect one for me, he’s gentle and kind, knows how to take care of me, and doesn’t stop at anything, he always motivates me to do better, and I do the way from him, I help him, and he helps me. We both put effort into this, and it’s both a 50/50 commitment we meet each other in the middle, it just works with each other. I just love him for that.” You say and Maria smiles at you.

“We'll, I’ll tell him he got a good girl!” She says, and you laugh as you help her dry the dishes

“Thank you! Thank you for the wonderful dinner and conversation. It’s been a pleasure meeting Howard and you. Thank you for having me in your home too!” You say full of gratitude as she nods.

“No sweetheart, it was my pleasure!” She says as the both of you finish the dishes.

“Let me show you pictures of when Tony was a baby! You're just going to love it!” Maria says as she leads you to the living room. Sitting down as she grabs a scrapbook, sitting down next to you as she opens it, to see baby pictures of Tony litter the first page.

“This is when I first gave birth to him, Howard was so excited but so nervous to be parenting,” Maria says, and you chuckle, flipping through the scrapbook.

“Oh! Look at this picture! He’s too cute.” You say as there’s a picture of him in the bathtub with a bucket on his head, and he’s playing with toys in the bath.

“Oh my god! This adorable, why does he have a bucket on his head though” You ask through your small fit of laughter with Maria.

“I know! So he was so tired in that picture, but I wouldn’t let him go to bed dirty from playing outside and he wanted the bucket on his head to feel like a superhero” Maria made you burst out laughing even more.

At that moment, Tony and Howard walked in with massive smiles and then Tony realized what you are looking for.

“Oh, mom! No!” Tony says, and you laugh

“Look at this adorable picture of you,” you say as Maria handed you the scrapbook, and you held it up to show him the bathtub picture.

Tony gets embarrassed as he sits down next to you and Howard laughs.

“Don’t embarrass our son, Maria,” Howard says and Maria smiles.

“I’m not! I’m just showing her cute photos of Tony!” Maria says as you give her the scrapbook, and she puts it away.

“Okay, who wants dessert?!” Maria alas and you look at Tony as he nods.

“Yes, I would love some,” you say, and Tony smile as he grabs your hand.

Howard began talking as Maria went into the kitchen, and began a big conversation about Tony and the baking Maria did.

—

Slowly getting up as Tony closes the conversation to get ready to leave. It’s about 11p.m. You have work and school tomorrow, while Tony has work at Stark Industries tomorrow.

“Bye mom and dad,” Tony says, hugging them tightly as you smile, then you feel Maria pull you into a hug.

“It was wonderful meeting you!” You say and Maria smiles.

“You are just remarkable, dear! I like you!” Maria says, and you laugh.

“Thank you, thank you so much for having me over. I quite enjoy it. Wonderful meeting you and Howard.” You say to Maria, who nods gracefully, as then you felt Howhug you.

“I have a feeling you’ll be around for a long while,” he says, and you laugh

“Thank you and I hope I am,” you say pulling away from him as Tony gave him his jacket since it was cold out tonight. Having the warmth of Tony's jacket and his hand in yours.

Walking down the steps of his parent's house as you turn and wave to them politely as Tony helps you into the car as he gets into waving his parents’ bye.

Tony starts up the car as you look at him with a huge smile.

“What?” He asks and you just shake your head.

“You have wonderful parents, I adore them” You say.

“Good because my parents really like you too!” Tony says and you smile

“I’m glad! I really did try my best to be a good girlfriend” you say as Tony begins driving, and he laughs.

“I know you were outstanding, baby girl” Tony says, and you chuckle softly as you lean over and kiss him softly on the cheek.

—

Arriving at home, as you sigh out in relief, you can finally take these shoes off.

Getting out of the car with Tony as he opens the door, and you smile at him.

“Home!” You say, and he chuckles with a nod as he locks the door, and you take your jacket off and your shoes immediately.

Feeling Tony pull you in from behind and his hands roam your body.

“Tony-…what are you doing?” You say, and he laughs in your ear as you feel him kiss your neck.

“You were just so incredible with my parents, and they liked you because you were sweet and innocent when I know you're not” he says, and you chuckle softly.

“Oh really? Am I not?” You say and Tony shakes his head as you walk him holding you to the kitchen to put the leftover, Maria insists you take home in the fridge.

Tony, still holding you as he began to massage your breast and your push forward on the kitchen counter.

“Tony, what are you all hot and bothered about?” You question

“You do and especially in that dress” he says, and you chuckle as you feel his hands run underneath your dress.

“Well, you're most certainly not going to fuck me on this counter now. Bed now” you whisper to him, playfully pushing him away from you. Going quickly upstairs as Tony chases you up, making you laugh.

Getting to the bedroom as you are already taking off your dress with a considerable smirk on your face, Tony watching you from the doorway as you throw the dress somewhere, just leaving you in panties and a bra.

Tony stripped his button-up shirt off as he pulls your half naked body into his as he kisses you passionately.

“You're just everything I ever wanted” he says, and you smile

“You're everything I want…” you say and as you push Tony onto the bed as you straddled him, kissing him more than Tony hand reaches behind you, undoing your bra quickly with one hand.

Kissing Tony as you slowly began going down, and Tony watches you with pure lust as began taking his pants off. Getting to his underwear as you saw his giant tent sticking up in your face causing you to lick your lips as you strip his underwear down and his cock sprung up at you.

Grabbing his cock firmly at the base as you put your mouth over his tip, and stroking his cock as you began bobbing your head more, making Tony groan out.

Sucking and licking his cock for a couple of moments as you move your hand from, start deepthroating his cock. Tony groans out more and more as his hand goes to your hair, pushing you down further as you begin gagging on him.

“Mm fuck baby, suck my cock just like that.” He says as he begins bobbing your head for you as you just up at him, letting him use your mouth like a toy.

Tony goes faster as you move your head now at the pace as he slowly lets go of your head to watch you, sucking Tony a lot faster as your tongue slides around all over his cock, teasing it especially when your tongue twirls around the tip, Tony favorite spot to feel your tongue on.

“Mm fuck, I’m going to come in that sweet little mouth of yours.” Tony says as he's thrusting his hips up making his cock hit the back of your throat, you took it the big girl you are.

Keeping your mouth on Tony as you felt his cock twitch in your mouth as you began sucking harder and Tony began cumming in your mouth.

Pulling your mouth away as you made sure you drain his cock with your mouth.

Looking up at him as he watched some of his ejaculate drip out of your mouth as you swallow the load in your mouth.

“Such a good girl.” Tony says as he grabs your face gently pulling you up, as flips you onto the bed, towering over you.

Placing himself at his entrance as you gasp, feeling him in you.

“Mhm fuck” you moan out as he began thrusting fast giving you no time to adjust or anything which you didn’t mind.

Moaning softly as you, he thrusts faster into your wet and tight pussy.

Staring up at Tony with full love and lust in your eyes as he stares back at you, thrusting harder in you.

“Fuck-Tony!” You moan out as he grabs you by the hips, thrusting harder as you felt his hand move up to your breasts and quickly flick at them, massage them with pleasure with one hand. Then, feeling his other hand go back down to your kiss as he began massaging your clit.

Getting louder as you rolled your hips from the pleasure. Grabbing the sheets in pleasure as then, Tony pulled you into your knees as he went on his knees, thrusting up into you.

Tony burying his face into your neck shoulder giving you kisses and hockey’s to have the next day, as your hand ran through his messy hair as you moaned into his ear, you began bouncing harder on him.

Your stomach swelling almost with pleasure as you and him picked up the pace greatly, knowing both of you guys are close, Tony feeling your pussy clench against his cock, making him groan.

“Fuck I’m going to come” you moan out, and he nods in response

“Me too” he says as he thrusts faster into, now dropping you into the bed, flipping you to your side as laid down next to you. Putting his cock in you quickly as he held your leg up and began thrusting into your side away. As you buried your face into a pillow to cover up your loud moans.

Tony grabs your face quickly as he looks at you, and you look back at him, kissing him.

“Fuck, let me hear those pretty little moans.” He says, and you couldn't say any words when Tony starts drilling into you, gripping you by the hips tightly and biting into your shoulder making you scream out in pleasure.

“FUCK! FUCK.” You scream as Tony smirks and without any warning you begin cumming all over his cock. Tony thrusts harder knowing your sensitive right now. You sure as hell was, your legs began shaking as thrusts got more sloppier and your moans got heavier. Reaching his orgasm even more

"Shit baby…I’m gonna cum in your sweet little pussy" he says in to your way

"Fuck yes please do! " you moan out as Tony did one final hard thrust into you, as he began cumming in you.

Tony groans into your ear as you smile softly in response, feeling his want cum in you.

"Oh fuck….that’s was so good" you say as Tony slowly pulls out of you with semi soft cock now.

"Yes it was…You can fool my parents but you can’t fool me. You are nowhere near innocent" he says as he slowly sits up, smacking your ass as look at your pussy , all the cum dripping.

Tony putting a finger in, making you moan softly as his finger got covered in cum and yours.

Tony brings up as he holds your chin and mouth open, sticking your tongue out as wrap your mouth around his cum covered finger.

"Yeah baby taste me and you mixed in together." He says as he watches you slurp it all up. Tony gives you a hard final smack to your clit, making you jump in pleasure.

"Let’s go take a shower" he says as he gets up and walks to the bathroom, your eyes following him with a smile as you slowly get up to follow him.

83 notes · View notes

visenyasdragon · 4 months

Text

Sea Dragon Queen

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen. Many more to come in future chapters.

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: An AU where Targaryens have braincells <3 they still have their flaws and prejudices, but not to dynasty-ending levels. No Dance, Rhaenyra never marries Laenor because Corlys has the sense to not marry off his clearly gay son. A fix it fic, if you will. I hope you'll enjoy it <3

Content warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Author's note: This is my first fanfiction and non-academic writing I've done since like 2009, so please be kind to me! English is also my second language.

Next chapter

Read on Ao3

Rhaenyra I

112AC

“I intend to marry… the Lady Laena Velaryon” the king said in a quiet, clear voice, “though not a day before her fifteenth nameday”.

Ser Otto did his best to conceal his astonishment. All his efforts thwarted, his daughter’s reputation soiled to no avail. “A wise choice, my king. In these times of peril and uncertainty from the east, a strong alliance with Driftmark is paramount. The Hand is ready to steadfastly support the Crown in all his endeavors.” There he is, ready to ingratiate himself further into my father’s graces despite his defeat, ever the cunning politician, she thought with irritation. Rhaenyra found it difficult not to laugh at just how predictable Ser Otto Hightower was. If only her uncle Daemon were here, to share this moment with her!

At the opposite end of the table, Lord Corlys looked as if he had just won a naval battle, been granted a son, and triumphed in cyvasse all at once. There is scarce a happier man in all of King’s Landing, Rhaenyra thought. She did not yet know whether she felt happy or anxious at the prospect of a stepmother younger than herself, and so soon after her own lady mother’s death. The time for sorting out my feelings will come later, she told herself, making an effort to steady her face. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent, but her friend’s countenance might as well have been a porcelain mask.

“My King, allow me to express my gratitude and happiness for honoring my House with your choice”, the master of ships stated in a glad tone, rising from his seat. “The centuries-old alliance between the last two pillars of Old Valyria will thrive once more. If I may be allowed to make a suggestion… there is not the slightest need for you to defer the wedding, Your Grace. I must confer with my lady wife on this matter, but I believe it is best that the preparations for the union begin at once”.

A gleaming black raven quorked loudly three times while perching on the red sandstone parapet. His piercing, jet-black eyes met Rhaenyra’s, sending an odd feeling down her spine. Grand Maester Mellos chuckled just in the right moment, as was often his way, preventing anybody else from speaking. He was a weathered veteran of a thousand small council sessions, after all. “It is the solemn belief of the Maesters of the Citadel that in order for a marriage to be fruitful, it ought not take place when the bride is too young to bear healthy heirs. The Lady Laena is but a girl of twelve, and I find it most judicious that His Grace elected to delay the wedding for three years.”

Rhaenyra swallowed quietly, trying to hold back her tears. The name of Aemma Arryn seemed to hang in the room and on everyone’s lips, yet none dared speak it. It has only been a few moons since the queen’s passing, and King Viserys’s enduring grief was plain for all to see. He flustered at the maester’s polite words, instantly brought back to the distant, sunny day at the Eyrie when he was but a young man of sixteen, wedded at Queen Alysanne’s instigation to a surpassingly beautiful girl not much older than Laena herself. Rhaenyra felt she could almost read the thoughts in her father’s mind at that moment. He will always love mother best of everyone, she thought. Even more than herself, though it did not wound her. Her late mother was the gentlest creature House Targaryen had yet seen, and she knew all the love and honor in the world would not be enough to match her merits. Despite her younger age, she had made him and molded him into the man he was, for better or for worse, everyone in her family said. She felt a heavy, choking feeling in her chest at the sudden understanding that it was his affection for his dead wife and the child-bride she had been to defer the marriage the realm so desperately needed. Maybe this is his apology to her in a way, Rhaenyra thought. He says, look Aemma, I must do my duty, but I will always love you. I will always honor your memory, in everything that I do.

Ser Otto’s voice broke her out of her reverie.

“As much as I value and respect any maester’s opinion, here is where I must disagree” he protested. Rhaenyra felt as if she could say his next words herself, so little a surprise they were for her. “The realm urgently needs a queen to provide the king with further heirs as soon as possible. Much as young Lady Laena Velaryon surely is, she is of Targaryen blood and will certainly do her duty splendidly. I propose the wedding takes place within a moon’s turn, or else as soon as the preparations can be completed.” Ser Otto finished his speech with the ludicrous confidence of a man who has the matter well at hand. He looked as if he were about to order Alicent’s wedding gown right where he sat. He means for little Laena to die in childbirth not having reached her fourteenth nameday, and for Alicent to take her place instead, Rhaenyra thought angrily.

The king listened to his Hand’s advice with a blank expression. What he said next surprised not only Ser Otto.

“Nevertheless, this is a matter where I resolve to be firm. I respect my future wife too much to bargain with her health and safety. This meeting is at an end.” Viserys rose from his seat at the head of the table, sending the rest of his small council to their feet. In his haste Lord Lyman Beesbury sent his gold-and-onyx council egg scuttering to the floor. “Apologies, my lords” he breathed, trying to recover his symbol of office from beneath the table, but Ser Harrold Westerling was ahead of him, restoring the sphere to its rightful place. The councilmen withdrew from the room one by one. Lord Corlys and King Viserys moved to the latter’s private apartments to discuss the upcoming nuptials and the crown’s response to the trouble in the Stepstones. Alicent meekly followed her visibly discontented father, her gaze firmly set on the floor beneath her. Rhaenyra wanted more than anything to take her into the godswood and talk for hours about the events of the day as they so often did, but she sensed that would have to wait. Her friend walked away sparing not a single glance for her, already engaged in a conversation of sharp, quiet whispers with Ser Otto. She felt a pang of pity towards Alicent. I would give much for her to be daughter to any other man in the realm, she thought. Rhaenyra was the last to depart the small council chamber, her feet unconsciously leading her toward the Dragonpit and Syrax.

The following days and weeks upended Rhaenyra’s world upside down. One by one, reluctantly, as if the king feared her dragon-temper, the startling news reached her, by way of Septa Marlow and Ser Criston Cole and Annara and other servants whose names she did not know, anybody but her father. She was to be fostered at Driftmark and henceforth divide her time equally between the court and High Tide; Alicent was not permitted by the Hand to go with her as her companion; Laenor Velaryon was to serve as the king’s squire and second cupbearer when she was not present; her uncle Daemon was to lead the Royal Fleet alongside Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys into the Stepstones as soon as the troops and supplies for war were prepared. On top of that, when the war was done, it was decided Rhaenyra and Laena were to go on a royal progress throughout the realm, from the Arbor to Winterfell, the two queens to be. It was as if the gods themselves were unsure whether the death of Queen Aemma did not send Rhaenyra a strong enough message that her childhood was at an end. Now was the time to enter the dangerous world of politics and diplomacy, one that Rhaenyra only knew by proxy.

“Perhaps it will be better for you”, said Alicent softly one warm spring afternoon, as they were luxuriating in their favorite spot beneath the weirwood tree, “You will get out of this place, all of these intrigues, whereas I am stuck here as long as my father can keep his chain of Handship. You will see High Tide and the world beyond King’s Landing. And the people will receive an opportunity to see their future queen. I’m sure they will come to love you in no time.”

“Just as you have?” asked Rhaenyra teasingly, planting a soft kiss upon her friend’s cheek. Her skin immediately took on a very pretty pink color. ”I do not mind the travel. In fact, I think it will do Syrax good to stretch her legs and work for her next meal, she has grown rather spoiled as of late. What I do mind is that none of this is my choice. It was not even discussed by the small council at any length. Septa Marlow said that it was all decided by my father and Lord Corlys after the betrothal was agreed upon.”

“And if you were given a choice, you’re certain you wouldn’t have chosen exactly this? You’ve always spoken about wanting to see the wonders across the narrow sea. Well, think of it as the next best thing. You’ll see the wonders across the Blackwater Rush”. They both laughed. For all her love of romance and books, Alicent had a charming way of making Rhaenyra laugh in the most unexpected moments.

“What good can those wonders do to me if I don't have my dear Alicent next to me to tell me their histories? Do you remember when we were walking through the Kingswood a few years ago, during this royal hunt or other, and you corrected our septas repeatedly about the history of the forest? Something about an Andal warlord who vanquished a First Man king there millenia ago? The poor woman got it completely confused with the Faith Militant uprising. How red her face was!”

“Well, septas are not exactly educated to be solemn historians, their duty was foremost to look after us and safeguard our reputation. And you really were very rude and impertinent that day. Septas work very hard, you know” Alicent said with a sweet smile, but Rhaenyra could see that she was flattered to be complimented on her knowledge and intelligence, but her impeccable Hightower breeding would not allow her to disparage sworn members of the Faith. “Besides, I’m sure you will have plenty of people around you to relay you the histories of the various castles and towns you’ll be visiting. Multiple times, even.”

Rhaenyra sighed with irritation. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll be very entertained while various men who’d never met me before will try to charm their way into wedding me. Those men won’t fawn over me. They only want my name and my Valyrian blood for their offspring!” She threw away the three blades of fresh grass she’s been braiding with annoyance.

“Well, I think it’s rather romantic,” Alicent said dreamily, looking into the far distance. She looked her most beautiful in such moments. “It is rare for girls in this realm to get a choice between two suitors, no less two score of them. To have one’s favor sought during tourneys, name made immortal in songs sung by countless bards, to be able to choose the bravest and comeliest of the knights in the lists, to be made the lady of his hearth and home…”

“Yes, yes,” Rhaenyra said impatiently. “I am very lucky to be able to make my choice. You’ve made your point very clear. I am very lucky to live the life I do, with an indulgent father and a kingdom for an inheritance. I know.”

Alicent smiled both sweetly and slyly, now assured she drove her point home and made her beloved friend understand her unusual privilege. “But?”

“But I wish things were… I don’t know, different! I wish I was permitted to see uncle Daemon again. I wish I didn’t have to think about my suitor’s castle size or the number of his armies when choosing a husband. I wish I didn’t have to tour every corner of the realm to make the lords of the realm accept me as their future ruler. My father certainly never did. He’s never been further west than Stonebridge, he told me himself. He was made the future king by the great council and that was the end of it. Why can’t it be the same for me?!”

“Because you are a woman and King Viserys is a man,” Alicent said calmly.

“Yes,” Rhaenyra agreed bitterly. “Because I am a woman and he is a man”.

#house of the dragon spoilers #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #rhaenyra x alicent #alicent x rhaenyra #hotd au #sea dragon queen #hotd #house of the dragon

25 notes · View notes

star-going-supernova · 8 months

Note

I saw fan art of bear cub Gregory from pixlokita on tumblr, so I hope that I can request a prompt where Gregory becomes a bear cub (still can talk and looks like Gregory) and Freddy is happy to have an actual bear and son. Please write this please, for a birthday wish. Thank you.

I took these two prompts and came up with something in between, lol. This is pure fluff. Happy belated birthday, friend! 🎉

Like Father, Like Son

None of them were technically supposed to be able to access the internet. All relevant knowledge to their jobs, the kids, the pizzaplex, etc. already existed within their databases, and all information stored across the servers was available to them. But Chica had gotten bored one day and spent a bit too much time tinkering with herself via the upgrade cylinder. Monty had demanded his own internet connection after that, and before long, every animatronic in the pizzaplex had access.

It was not long before Roxy discovered online shopping, and after a few mishaps in trying to figure out how to get the packages to themselves without management finding out, there was not an animatronic among them who had not secretly ordered something or other.

Sun in particular seemed to enjoy finding new things to add to the daycare—rightly so, considering management was slacking in that regard—and as a result of his frequent digital window shopping, he often sent links to the rest of them, sharing things he had found that he thought they might like.

All that to explain why Freddy opened a link from Sun with the caption you HAVE to get this :D and discovered that yes, he had to get it.

It was a child-sized onesie with little footie boots and gloves that could be folded out of the way or velcroed into place and a hood with ears stitched on. It looked wonderfully soft and fuzzy. It was a warm brown with details depicting a bear cub.

And it had excellent ratings.

• • •

Gregory laughed when he saw the onesie, but he also snatched it up and took off to go change into it, so Freddy did not think he minded the gift. The others would probably tease him once they caught sight of it, but it would be worth their jokes.

Make no mistake, Freddy did not wish Gregory was any different from the way he was. Nor did Freddy wish he himself was human. But it still tickled something in his code to imagine silly little impossibilities, like he and Gregory being a family by blood. Of course, Freddy was as much a real bear as Gregory would be in a stylized onesie, but that was hardly the point.

It was only a minute or two before Gregory returned, and he must have stopped by one of the others’ rooms because his nose had been carefully colored in and a line drawn beneath it down to his upper lip. The onesie was a perfect fit—naturally, as Freddy knew his son’s exact measurements—and Gregory’s glee was near palpable.

Freddy made a little involuntary sound of delight. He crouched down, feeling his eyes brighten to match the building warmth in his chest.

Gregory came to stand in front of him and did a jaunty spin to show off the little pom-pom tail. Freddy had never understood the human urge to squeal from seeing something so utterly adorable as much as he did then.

“C’mon,” Gregory said, showing off the toe beans on his gloves, complete with felt claws, “tell me I’m not the cutest bear cub ever.”

Laughing, Freddy swept him up, and Gregory did not even scramble to hold on, so great was his trust that Freddy would not drop him.

“You are certainly the cutest bear cub I have ever seen,” Freddy assured him, and Gregory smiled smugly, head leaning on Freddy’s shoulder. “And the best bear cub in general. My bear cub.”

How odd that mere months ago, Freddy would have said he would not want a child of his own. He could not imagine, now, not having Gregory in his life. When he looked back on pre-Gregory memories, the absence of his adopted son almost shocked him sometimes. He had been happy back then, yes, but in a very mild and content way. There was little variation in his day-to-day, though he had not minded at the time.

He did not think he could go back to that way of life. It fell far short of the joy that each new day brought now. Gregory made things unpredictable and lively in a way Freddy would be loath to give up.

And best of all, his love, his gratefulness, and his happiness was matched in Gregory.

Beaming, Gregory wrapped his arms around Freddy’s neck in a tight hug. “My papa bear,” he said, and it was only a bit teasing.

#i answered a thing #hdoshdje #anonymous #fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #star's stories #life and times of star

34 notes · View notes

beaniebeensbaby201 · 1 year

Text

Jake Sully x HUMAN Na'Vi reader

DO NOT COPY MY WORK

Spoilers ahead do not read

This is part from Divergent that i was inspired to write.

Reader has powers

Summary: Y/N was kidnapped by Quarich as she was alone hunting in the forest, until she was captured and Jake had to bring her back.

Warnings: angst, g*uns, cursing, sexual content, PTSD, violence

It's been two years since Quarich came back. I've been scared that one day that they will wipe us away, that one day there will be no more of our kind.

Jake would always tell me that he'll never let anything happen to our family, and that's what scares me. I can't lose him, not like how we already lost our son.

Every night I'd wake up to the same dreams, that my father will still come back and try to destroy us. But something is going to happen, because my dreams were always right. I hadn't told Jake yet, as I would make sure to never wake him up.

"I noticed you weren't in bed this morning." I tilt my head down as I shut my eyes. He was easily able to find me, even though I was the best at hiding as I was the best hunter.

"Thought I could get a good hunt." I lied, Jake let out a grunt as he sat next to me on the large rock.

My feet dip into the crystal blue river.

"I'm scared Jake. What if my father actually wins? He already held our family captive once, what if he does it again?" I ended up looking at him, he looked just as terrified but he was trying to be strong.

"I won't let anything happen, you and I both know that." I quickly got up, as I hissed.

"That's the thing! You'd kill yourself to save me, we can't just risk our lives! We both need to be together for our children, so Tuk could be raised. So we could both see Kiri and Lo'ak to grow up and become the next future leaders." We have been fighting a lot recently, as he's been trying to get me to have Norm come and help me, as I have PTSD.

"I love you, even when we were humans. I can't live without you, I could never forgive myself if I ever let anything happen to you or the kids. You're my light, you're the one who I need when I'm upset, the one I go to when I'm injured." All of the sudden it became harder to breathe, I throw myself onto Jake as I sobbed into his arms.

I pound my fist onto his broad shoulders as he rubs my back.

"We must find a way to kill him, he keeps coming back. He can't come back, we need to protect Spider. We need to make sure that he stays within eye range. We must make sure that the kids don't go too far from hearing range." I sobbed, Jake always found a way to get me to break down my walls.

I tried to stay strong all the time for my kids. After Neteyams' death I have been a lot harder on the kids, making sure that Jake and I train them even longer so that they could be ready if the time ever comes.

I tried catch my breath, as Jake's hands rake threw my hair as I shut my eyes.

Jake started to hum a song that I used to sing to him and Neteyam to sleep.

"Lie si oe Neteyamur

Nawma Sa'nokur mìfa oeyä

Atanti ngal molunge

Mipa tìreyti, mipa 'itanti

Lawnol a mì te'lan

Lawnol a mì te'lan" He hums softly, my sobs have gone quiet, I felt my eyes begin to feel droopy.

"Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe

Tonìri tìreyä

Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe

Srrìri tìreyä

Ma Eywa (ma Eywa), ma Eywa (ma Eywa)" I was shocked that he could sing.

"Zola'u nìprrte', ma Kiri

Ngati oel munge soaiane

Lie si oe atanur

Pähem parul, ti'ongokx ahuta

Lawnol a mì te'lan

Lawnol a mì te'lan" I ended up falling asleep, dreaming that Neteyam was still with us, that he wasn't with Eywa.

3rd P.O.V

Jake tried his best to memorize the words, he was always in a trance whenever she'd sing softly to him. The death of their son was much harder on her, how could you survive such a loss? When your own blood killed their grandchild? When you're terrified that this would be the last peaceful moment that they would have together.

Y/n P.O.V

It's been a week since my break down, I felt like I was weak, but a warrior will always have a weakness. My nightmares have gotten worse again. It was time to tell him, the dreams that I've been having.

I saw Jake in the hometree as he was concentrating on polishing guns.

I watched as he focused, I walk on the tips of my toes as I try not to step on any guns.

I place my hands on his biceps as I watched him tense around my touch, but soon relaxes when he realized it was just me.

"Are you finally coming to tell me?" Jake broke the silence first, wanting to get to the point.

I sighed, I played with his braided hair to keep my hands from shaking.

"You died. I shot you with my arrow, every night I'd have the same dream. You're body was laying limp. No more heartbeating, I held no emotion in my eyes, not a single tear was shed." I couldn't continue, as I let out a shaky breath.

I backed up when Jake gets up from his squatting position.

He places his hands on my cheeks firmly. He tried to make me look in his eyes, but I advert my gaze, staring past his shoulders. I could feel his gaze on me, his green eyes staring at me.

"I won't let that happen. Quarich isn't coming back-" I finally looked at him, shaking my head as I placed my shaking hands delicately on his toned chest.

"N-no, he's coming. I could feel it Jake, he's coming for me. Call me crazy, but he is. He's close." I stammered, my bottom lip quivers as Jake grabs a hold of my chin.

"Shh." He forces my head to rest on his shoulders as my shoulders continued to stay tense again.

"I envisioned the first war, I envisioned the second, I can't make the same mistake the third time. I thought that this would pass by, but it wouldn't go away. This is a different vision though, I felt it. I felt your heart stopped beating, I couldn't hear your thoughts in my head anymore (due to the bond they could hear each other's thoughts). I couldn't- I can't." My heart started to beat faster, as it got harder for me to breathe again.

I couldn't form any air into my lugs as my head felt fuzzy. My vision blurring as I was going through another episode.

"Hey, hey! Breathe baby, c'mon. Breathe baby girl." Jake was hesitating, I knew he was trying to think of something to help me again. I could tell he was trying to memorize the words to the song he sang earlier, as my chest continues to squeeze I heaved, trying to regain my breathing.

"Lie si oe Neteyamur

Nawma Sa'nokur mìfa oeyä

Atanti ngal molunge

Mipa tìreyti, mipa 'itanti

Lawnol a mì te'lan

Lawnol a mì te'lan." He was of key, but I could tell that he was scared. His voice was shaky as he stumbled over each word.

"Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe

Tonìri tìreyä

Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe

Srrìri tìreyä

Ma Eywa (ma Eywa), ma Eywa (ma Eywa)" I he stared into my eyes, as I stared back. My breathing wasn't as harsh anymore, as it was coming back to normal again.

I started to sing with him, our voices sing together in harmony.

"Zola'u nìprrte', ma Kiri

Ngati oel munge soaiane

Lie si oe atanur

Pähem parul, ti'ongokx ahuta

Lawnol a mì te'lan

Lawnol a mì te'lan". I smiled as Jake was matching his pitch with mine, his voice was mutch deeper, a softer voice as mine was a higher pitched voice.

Mo'at had taught me how to sing before everything happened, Neytiri and I would sing together so we could he the best singers.

"I love you y/n Sully. And I'll be damned if I ever let anything happen." Jake promised as my voice softened as I continued to sing the song.

Night fell, I was singing the song again. As I stared at Jake softly as I played with the end of my braid.

Tuk crawled towards me as she curled into my lap, I smiled softly as I snuggled her closer towards me.

I slowly started to rock her as her eyes started to flutter shut. I noticed that Jake was trying to keep his eyes opened as he was against the wall on the other side from me. I chuckled softly, big child I thought to myself.

Soon he fell asleep along with the rest of the children as I continued to sing softly, staring out of the village I stared at the stars. I tried not to let my eyes closed, not wanting to have the same heavy feeling in my chest as I have the dreams.

The next morning….

The children and Jake were still asleep, I tried my best to quietly escape the hut. I heard footsteps as I quickly hid behind a tree, not knowing where the footsteps are coming from.

I felt hands wrap around my waist as I turned around and grabbed my small knife and put it towards their neck.

I hissed as I tackled him towards the ground, a loud grunt left their lips as I realized it was Jake.

"You Skxawng! I could've fucking killed your ass!" I shouted, not caring that the animal I was tracking ran off.

"You weren't there when me and the kids were up, did you sleep at all last night?" My gaze softened, as I pushed myself off of him as I turned away.

I was about to say something only for me to grab Jake's hand.

"There's someone here." I whispered, Jake was about to take me back to the tree only for my heart to drop.

"Kiri!" I shouted, as I heard the kids screaming it sounded like they were hurt.

"Mommy!" I heard Tuk cry, I started to run towards the sound only for Jake to tighten his hold on my hand.

"Let go of me Jake! Our kids are in danger!" I shouted, I was scared.

"We have to be smart about this y/n." I was hesitant, but I knew that he was just being smart.

We started to climb a tree, I saw them not far from where we were. I started to call out to the kids, to let them know we're near.

"My sister is going to kick your ass. If she did it once, she could do it again. She's a better fighter than you, I don't think you understand how stupid you are for doing this." I was about to jump down but I knew it wasn't time.

I made another call to them, I was closer. I was ready to make my attack, so I jumped. Only for my father to throw me down, I let out a scream as I land in front of Tuk. A loud cry escapes her as the kids struggled to get free.

I held my knife in my hands as I get in a defensive position, Jake was waiting for the right moment to jump down, as I stood in front of my children.

I hissed at my father, as my tail wagged as it was threatened by the prey.

My father held a smirk against his lips. As I went to attack again, learning everything I learned from him. Only he held the upper hand once again and I landed against the tree. Jake jumps down as he too was losing the fight.

I felt my hair being pulled as I screamed, I tried to grab the hand that held onto me, but it was useless.

I saw the back of a gun hit me in the face. The last thing I heard was the sound of my kids screaming my name, but the one I heard the most was Jake.

PART 2 is coming soon

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^**^*^*^*^*^^**^

#avatar #tumblr fyp #avatar x reader #quarich x daughter reader #spider x sister reader #jake sully x wife reader #hella angsty #quarich #lo'ak x mother reader #tuk x mother reader #kiri x mother reader #jake x fem reader

121 notes · View notes