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howtodrawyourdragon · 1 year ago

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The Post In Which I Deduce How Old Baby Hiccup Was When Valka Disappeared

You know, in order to write this Httyd Retelling, I have to do some preparing. I have to collect plot points for future storylines, keep certain canonical facts in mind and take a closer look at certain scenes.

Like the flashback scene in which Valka gets taken, for example. Because that'll be a vital scene for the prequel-type fic that I'm currently working on.

And I don't think I've ever realized how truly young Hiccup was when his mother was stolen from him. And I'm not talking about how he was a baby, because that fact is obvious.

I'm talking about how it's possible he was barely 6 months old.

And there are a couple of things about the flashback that point to this.

When Cloudjumper finds Hiccup and appears to play with him, I notice that Hiccup is:

Laughing

Grabbing Cloudjumper's wing talon

Clapping once (which could be a fluke as he is waving his hands around wildly)

Appears stimulated by Cloudjumper's attention and actively seeks interaction

Now, the laughter I won't waste much time on because I don't really see it as an indicator. On average, it starts as early as 4 months, but in my experience that highly depends on the child. I've seen a 3 month old laugh, I've seen kids not start laughing until they were almost 1.

Points 2 through 4, though, are much more interesting as what Hiccup is exhibiting is actually not "true" play, but rather hints that Hiccup is still actively learning to interact with the world around him. This may seem strange for people who don't interact with babies and toddlers on a daily basis, but children actually have to learn to play and this starts by interacting with the world around them.

Putting a variety of things in their mouths, sucking on things, grabbing things (like Cloudjumper's talon), shaking things, etc. This is usually how a baby between ages of 4 to 6 months old begins to learn how to play.

You can try to offer toys to a 3 month old, but chances are they won't do anything with it or even react much too the toy at all. Older than 6 months old, it's possible you can see them actively pick what interests them to inspect rather than simply put whatever they've been giving in their mouths.

In my personal experience, it's not until around 4 months old when babies start to show interest in the things around them. (Which doesn't mean you shouldn't try to stimulate your child by at least offering a toy before that time, we do.)

Something else of note in this scene is:

Hiccup can't sit up

No teeth

Hiccup simply lying there swaddled in a cradle is actually a big indicator that, not only is he not sitting up yet, but he doesn't appear capable of rolling over.

And if you think "Oh! but that's because he's swaddled in furs!" Wrong! Babies of any age are surprisingly determined. If a baby wants to roll over, they will fidget their way out of the swaddle and roll over. In no good conscience would Valka or Stoick leave Hiccup in a cradle unattended if this child showed signs of rolling over.

Now babies can start rolling over as soon as 4 months. (If you know what that looks like, it's quite an endeavor, takes a lot of manuevering, which the previous unattended Hiccup didn't appear to be doing)

And I know you may be thinking; "doesn't that mean Hiccup is younger than 4 months in the flashback?" I don't think so simply because of how he reacts to Cloudjumper, whose attention and stimulation he actively seeks out. Rather, I actually think Hiccup is a little bit of a late bloomer physically.

He was canonically born prematuraly, to the point that his mother feared he wouldn't make it. And often when a child is a late bloomer physically, they actually usually end up ahead of the other kids in other areas. Like mentally, verbally, or with their finer motor skills.

In my experience, children who can walk by the time their first birthday comes along, take longer to even begin to start talking. (which takes the form of making sounds. Not forming words, but voluntarily making sounds)

Meanwhile kids who are barely crawling by their first birthday are usually already showing signs of forming words (usually done by trying to repeat sounds they hear others in their life say) and verbally responding back to the people in their life (though through sounds and not actual words)

Being late in his gross motor skills while actually excelling in his finer motor skills and speech seems in line with the Hiccup we know and love. Even between the ages of 15 and 18, he still appears to be a bit of a late bloomer. The example I'm thinking of is how he can work years in a forge, yet struggle to pick up a single weapon versus to 3 years later when he's a swordsman himself and picks weapons up with no problem now.

That brings me to the lack of teeth.

On average, babies will begin to teeth between the 4 and 7 months old. From my personal experience, it tends to start much closer to 7 months than the minimum 4 month mark. I've even looked after plenty of children who didn't start to teeth well beyond the 7th month mark. (even had one who didn't start teeth until they were almost 1 and then suddenly got multiple teeth in at once.) Hiccup has no teeth.

So lets line all of the evidence up.

In the flashback, Hiccup:

Actively seeks interaction with Cloudjumper

Actively interacts with the world around him, but doesn't know play yet.

Responds positively to Cloudjumper's stimulation

Doesn't yet appear to even try to roll over

Has no teeth

And all of these points point to the very likely scenario that Hiccup was only 4 to 5 months old when he and Stoick lost Valka.

4 to 5 months old.

That's hella young to be losing your mother, a terrible time to lose your wife and mother of your very young child and, honestly, a terrible time for a mother to have her abduction be preceded by watching her premature son and her husband almost die due to her lack of actions.

I realize that I'm ending this post with a hot take, maybe even an unpopular opinion, but as it already takes months for a parent who gave birth to feel somewhat normal again even without breastfeeding their child... No wonder Valka, in this highly sensitive and vulnerable time, internalized that both Stoick and Hiccup would've been better off without her.

Valka, who:

Was still on month 4 after her pregnancy, meaning her hormones would've still been all over the place

Had to breastfeed with a lack of better options at the time, meaning it would remain that way for quite a bit

Had a traumatic labor that involved nearly losing her son

Her son who was born much too early, which would come with complications (right down to getting him to eat at all, for example)

Almost watched Hiccup and Stoick die in a fire right before she got abducted by a dragon, which would've meant hours if not days or weeks of believing she was going to get eaten

Doesn't mean she just gets to stay away for 20 whole years, but it definitely puts a different perspective on her sudden departure from Hiccup's life.

Everyone in the Haddock family was hurt that day. Though, the biggest victim of all was that literal 4 month old boy.

Video from SoloMinike-Movies & Shows scenes HD for reference.

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#source: 5 and a half years of daycare work ages 0 months to 2 and a half years and 8 children max from monday to friday from 7 am to 5:30 pm #still working in that daycare rn btw #httyd movies #httyd 2 #how to train your dragon 2 #hiccup haddock #stoick the vast #valka #the haddocks #stalka #long post

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binfinsqudina · 1 year ago

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Daily reminder that Valka basically raised her bewilderbeast and that makes him Hiccups brother

#source: trust me bro #httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd valka #httyd 2 #bewilderbeast

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sublimitymp3 · 1 year ago

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Pray for me

Pairing ✵ Gwayne Hightower/Niece!reader

Warnings ✵ Hotd season 2 spoilers, incest, littleee bit of crybaby!reader, smut (frottage, oral F receiving, fingering, and slight dacryphilia), and religious themes

Word count ✵ 2.5k

Summary ✵ Your uncle Gwayne arrives from Oldtown at your brother's call, and pays a visit to you while you pray.

"Your mother told me I might find you in here,"

You whipped your head around to see the source of the voice that disturbed you from your prayers and saw none other than your uncle, Ser Gwayne Hightower. He had finally come from Oldtown, answering your brother's call for assistance in his war.

"It is the seventh day, I thought I ought to pray. Especially now..." You explain with a small smile. You stood from your kneeling position on the cold, unyielding sept floor so you may look upon him. Your face twists into a cringe as you feel the bruises from kneeling for so long begin to form on your knees, and you are sure they'll be an ugly purple color later. Relaxing your features, you finally turn on your heel to face your uncle. It has been so long since you've seen him.

Too long.

He's as handsome as you remember, with his auburn hair, pale blue eyes, and the faint freckles that dust his face. How you wished you could map kisses along those freckles, connecting them with a trail of where your lips had been. But your faith and virtue prevent you from giving in to the desire. Besides, you are sure that if he ever found out you ever thought such things, he'd look at you with such revulsion that you'd crumble to the floor in shame.

He steps closer to you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear tenderly. "You have your mother's beauty, but your father's features," he hums, tweaking your nose playfully before wrapping you in a firm hug. It is not lost on you the slight curt tone his voice took on at the mention of your late father, but you dismiss it.

"And tell me, how have you been fairing during these trying times, hm? Don't tell me you hole yourself up in this sept all day." He teases, bringing a feeling of embarrassment over you for he had guessed correctly. Recently, you do spend the brunt of your days at the sept, praying to almost every facet of the Seven for mercy, strength, wisdom, and safety. Today, you were praying at the statue of the Mother, and after you lit a candle for her altar, you prayed for mercy and protection for your family members. It is one of the few things that brings you comfort nowadays, your faith in the Seven who are One.

"Well, there isn't much I can do," you shrug, letting a small frown tug at your lips. "It's not like I can sit in on a council meeting, and mother refuses to let me on my dragon. She seems perfectly content in keeping me idle and useless," you remark with a tone of annoyance, one that draws a low laugh from your uncle.

"Your mother means well, sweet niece. You're better suited here, getting favor from the gods as opposed to being in the midst of battle. Believe me, it is a bloody, nasty affair, and you are far too delicate to join in," he grips your chin in between his forefinger and his thumb, keeping your lilac gaze trained on his ocean-blue eyes.

You cannot even think of a response to his dismissing words, as you are too busy trying to push away the familiar ache you get between your thighs. It always comes at the most inconvenient of times, like when you watch the men in the training yard move, sweaty and shirtless, or when you spy on your brother coupling with a serving girl. All you know is that it persists for ages, and no amount of praying stops it.

But you can only try.

"S-Shall we pray, uncle? So that the Mother may grant us safety, of course," you propose, shifting nervously on your feet. Perhaps it is the light flush that has appeared on your face, or how you try to discreetly press your thighs together for some form of relief, but Gwayne knows. He always knows.

To save yourself some embarrassment, you resume your kneeling position before the statue and altar of the Mother, clasping your hands together in the standard praying position. You expect your uncle to kneel beside you, or just leave the sept all together, so you are quite surprised when you feel him loom behind you.

His firm chest swiftly presses against your back, and his larger and calloused hands come to rest over your softer ones, and you find yourself trapped in this embrace. Whether it is to your delight or misfortune, you cannot decide. You squeeze your eyes shut and silently beg for forgiveness for the unseemly thoughts that run through your brain at his actions. 'Who thinks such perverse things in a holy place?' you think, mentally chastising yourself.

"Well, go on then, sweet one. Pray for me," he whispers, and you can feel his breath fanning against the shell of your ear. Gwayne is enjoying this, enjoying this little game of denial you two play. Of course, it is wrong for him to want to take you in the lewdest positions, to have you scream his name so everyone knows who is fucking you so good, but he has restrained himself all this time. Patience is a great virtue, yes, but he wishes to reap his reward for remaining ever so patient now.

"M-Mother Above, have mercy on us all. I beg you for your protection, and for you to-" you cut yourself off with a gasp as your uncle buries his face into the crook of your neck, and gently nips at the soft skin there. He begins pressing himself against your ass, making your cheeks flush even more.

Noticing your sudden pause, he pulls back to look at your blushing face with a devilish smirk. "Well? Go on, don't mind me," he says before going right back to nipping and sucking at your neck. It is impossible for you to stay concentrated on your prayers as he continues, and you resign to praying in your head as your words fail you.

Your prayers only falter as you feel something hard poking against your backside, prodding and bumping against you relentlessly. Gwayne begins peppering kisses from your neck and to your jawline before tugging your head back gently, and letting his lips brush against yours. He only pauses as you tilt your head a little bit away in reluctance.

"U-Uncle, this is wrong. N-Not here, we cannot do this-"

"Shh, enough with that. It isn't wrong, not in the slightest. It's not wrong, not when you're meant for me. Surely even the gods will understand," he mumbles against the softness of your lips. You feel in that little moment of pause that his are a bit chapped, most likely from days of riding on horseback and camping in the wilderness. But it matters little then.

Once his lips are on yours, you cannot help the cascade of little moans that leaves you. His mouth is overwhelming and easily overpowers your rather inexperienced one, and you feel his hands move from their position over yours. One hand moves to your neck, and the other to your breast, fondling it through your dress as he continues humping you from behind.

You are thankful the sept is empty today. If word of what you do now reached your mother, of the depravity you partake in with her own brother, you're sure she'd have you sent far away to become a septa.

With a final peck to your lips, your uncle stands. He drinks in the sight of you like this; cheeks flushed, hair a bit messy, clothes rumpled, and swollen lips, all from him, of course. He swears then and there he's never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Up you go, princess," he mumbles, before picking you up with ease and setting you to sit on the edge of the altar. He messily pushes away the candles and various offerings left there to make room for you, and you cringe at the disrespect, disrespect born from lust and hastiness.

The new position allows for you to be relatively level with his face, and he soon hikes your dress up and stands between your parted thighs. As he begins to rub his erection against your clothed cunt, you grab onto his forearms to ground yourself.

His erection rubs against your dampened smallclothes, brushing against your bud and your folds. With each grind of his hips, you feel something like a fire burning through your bones. But with your clothes acting like a barrier, and the slightly awkward angle, it's not enough for you. Even with your unfamiliarity to such actions, you still know it is not enough.

"M-More, more. Uncle, I need more." you whine, pulling him closer by the laces of his breeches, eliciting a sly smirk from him.

"Well well, I never thought I'd see the day where my own niece was begging for me like a whore." he teases, making you frown at the crude and cruel word.

A cruel word indeed, and you feel the familiar sensation of your eyes watering, and your nose instinctively sniffling. Gwayne's smirk falters for a moment as he watches little tears spill from your eyes, but only for a moment.

"Aw, come now sweet girl, don't take offense. It was all in good fun, yes?" he coos to you, and you feel him begin to lick your tears away, catching the salty evidence of your crying on his tongue. "But oh, darling one, how pretty you look when you cry. Are you gonna cry more with what I do to you, little princess?" he asks with a mocking little pout, before kissing back down your neck.

You've always been a bit of a sensitive girl, everyone knows this. The smallest hint of frustration or anger to you, or even words spoken to you all in jest send you easily into tears. What you were not expecting was for them to be met with something other than the typical annoyed shushing you are used to receiving when you begin to cry.

Soon, Gwayne is kneeling before you, and pulling your wet smallclothes down. His lips pepper light kisses along your soft inner thighs, teasing you once more. "So wet...all for me, little princess?" he asks before nudging his nose against your bud, making you jolt with pleasure. He inhales your sweet scent. 'The scent of a wet virgin', he thinks crudely to himself.

You keep yourself propped up with your arms, and you look down at him between your thighs. Both of your legs have been thrown over his shoulders, and the instinct to wiggle your core closer to him grows. With a knowing gaze, Gwayne looks up at you with a smirk, before his tongue darts out and he dives in.

He eats you like a starved man.

His tongue licks stripes along your core, lapping up your arousal hungrily. His mouth works expertly, and all you can do is sit there helplessly and moan. Your little squeals and high-pitched whines sound adorable to him, and he laughs against your cunt. The vibrations, of course, make you jump again.

"My my, little niece, aren't you quite the sensitive one? Is your cunny as sensitive as your heart, hm?" he teases, as he continues to lick and suckle you. You cannot respond, too incapacitated by the pleasure his mouth brings you. It is nothing like you've ever felt before. Even your pillow or your hands don't feel as good as this.

"U-Uncle, uncle Gwayne, it feels s'good," you practically babble out as the lewd sounds of him slurping against you echoes around the sept. Your hand comes down to grip at his auburn hair, tugging him closer to your cunt. You care not anymore if this depravity is sullying a holy place, or if the gods watch with disapproval. There's always time to repent, after all.

The little pain you yanking his hair brings him makes him groan against your puffy folds, adding only to the stimulation you feel. "Yeah? Feels good? Oh, baby, you have no idea..." he murmurs, leaving you a little confused at his choice of words.

But you soon find out what exactly he means.

His mouth moves to focus only on your sensitive bud, sucking on it gently while he introduces two fingers to your wet folds. His fingers dance along your slit, dragging up and down in a slow, almost torturous manner.

You cry and squirm against him, greedily pushing his face right against your cunt. He heeds your signal, and finally pushes his fingers inside your velvety walls.

The stretch and feeling of something penetrating you are new and utterly foreign, but with the added stimulation his mouth still gives, the uncomfortableness of it all soon washes away to make room for pleasure. He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, careful to not hurt you as he works you open.

Once he is sure you are ready, only then does he move his fingers faster. Your thighs squeeze around his head with the intensity of it all, and he has to wrench them back apart. "I can't move if you're trying to block me, sweetling," he chuckles, earning a sheepish "sorry" from you.

As he continues his ministrations, his fingers finally brush against and find that spongy sweet spot hidden up you. He begins to nudge against it with his fingertips, making you gush your arousal all over his face. You've never felt such an intense and yet wonderful feeling in your life, and soon you find it all beginning to build up and crescendo.

His free hand massages and strokes your hips gently, and rubs circles over your belly a little, just to soothe you. He can feel your walls tightening up, and how your thighs tremble and shake around his head. "You can do it, baby, you can do it. Go on, sweet niece," he coos, finally sending you over the edge.

With a loud cry, you tremble and feel such intense pleasure crashing over you like the waves during a tumultuous seastorm. You chant his name, worshipping him as if he were a god.

Once your peak washes over you, you slump against the base of the statue of the Mother. Gwayne promptly stands, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Perhaps I should have you every night instead of wine." he smiles, before thumbing stray tears that rest on your flushed cheeks away.

He wipes his mouth with his forearm, before kissing you once more. You can taste yourself on your tongue. "I have to go now, sweet one. Pray to the gods for me, will you? And when I come back, we can pray together again. Wouldn't you like that?" he grins, cupping your face in his hands.

A knowing smile forms on your kiss-swollen lips as you understand the insinuations of his words. As he rides off to fight your brother's war, you will remain praying in the sept, longing for the day he will return and come to pray with you again.

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petr1kov · 1 month ago

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this is really a non-issue compared to everything else they get wrong, but the way these live-action remakes of animated movies have been translating their non-human characters to screen has been bothering me. you can see it with how to train your dragon, pinocchio, and more recently lilo & stitch: they keep the designs essentially unchanged, just with a more realistic rendering. on the one hand i honestly get why they do it, considering that 1) these remakes only exist to bank on nostalgia and on the novelty of getting to see a cartoon in 'real life', so the closer they stick to the looks of the source material, the better, 2) fans tend to get really really (sometimes irrationally) mad when people make even small changes to previously established designs of beloved characters, and 3) most previous attempts to make a cartoony design come across as more 'realistic' have not been well executed (just look at the ugly sonic debacle)

but on the other hand, i cannot ignore how out of place some of these designs feel when brought to a live-action setting basically unchanged. they have more leeway than usual on this case due to the fact that these are non-human characters who are supposed to look fantastical and alien, but when you look at them in motion, you see they carry the style of the original work they came from all over them in a way that clashes with everything else.

like, pinocchio may be made of wood, but on the original movie, he was supposed to look very close to a 'real boy', because that's what real boys looked like on that movie. pinocchio did not look very different from lampwick, for instance:

compare that to how he looks next to live-action lampwick:

it looks like lampwick is hanging out with a possessed doll. that's not the vibe the movie or this scene should have. and the same goes for stitch and every other alien on that movie -- they were not supposed to look human, or even humanoid on stitch's case, but they all clearly carried that distinct art style of chris sanders. looking at the original lilo and stitch standing next to each other, you see they both carry similar proportions in how their heads are shaped:

which, again, doesn't make stitch look more 'human', on this case, but it does make him look like he belongs to that universe, because that's how things look like there; that's how heads are drawn and how eyes are spaced. the same logic applies to jumba too, for instance. and when it comes to the live-action version:

stitch's design looks way more 'unreal' next to a real girl, less like a weird animal that could possibly exist in real life and more like a plush toy that talks.

i don't actually expect them to ever to something different, really, since changing it would be kind of just an unnecessary and risky move on their part, but it does bother me how so many fans apparently just eat this stuff up without feeling even a little weirded out by how it looks. does stylization mean nothing to you people

#and yeah same thing for toothless. that does not really look like a 'real' dragon he looks like a toy #and it's not that i want things to look overly realistic for the sake of it but i do want it to look consistent!#this is just taking highly stylized designs and tossing them in live-action settings with realistic texture. it looks all wrong #it's like when people make those 'if the simpsons were real' art where they all look yellow and deformed with bulging eyes. it's so silly

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annie-creates · 3 months ago

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The greatest mistake | Part 1

Pairing: Dain Aetos x Riorson reader

Genre: fluff to angst

Words: 2246

Note: My first official multi part story! This was supposed to be only two parts, but it kept getting longer and longer, so it's gonna be four parts coming out once a week and then maybe some more if you like it and want them. Please be aware not every detail might be completely true to the canon source material.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Dain Aetos was absolutely smitten by you. It started innocently enough, when he offered to train you after hours seeing as you needed a little bit of extra help compared to your squad. But soon he noticed how brilliantly fast witted, strong minded and smart you were. You didn’t let anyone mess with you. You always had a fast snap back when others teased you. You pushed yourself harder and faster every day. You were no fragile flower, but still you were beautiful. Possibly the most ethereal woman Dain has ever seen and would ever lay eyes on in this life. And maybe any life after that.

First it was just a few training sessions, then sitting together at lunch every once in a while. After that he helped you with studying for history and battle brief, late night sessions in the library slowly moving into his dorm once the weather and temperatures started to drop. With every day he felt like he has learned something new about you, even if he didn’t want to at first. Your favorite dessert. Your favorite children’s book from back when you were little. And during the nights you spent stripped in his bed, your souls as naked as your bodies, he traced the dark lines of your rebellion relic, the abstract pictures embedding in his mind.

Sometimes he felt like screaming his love for you from the rooftops, felt such a powerful wave of happiness it barreled through him like a tsunami, leaving nothing but wreckage in its way. Realistically that was unacceptable tho, so you settled for light touches at the morning formation, jokes exchanged in the dining hall and secret kisses hidden in the shadows of the courtyard’s pillars. A boy like him could never date a girl like you in a place like the Basgiath War College. And even if he could, you didn’t want to hear any more whispered gossip and rustling assumptions about warming leadership’s bed, your reputation here was already bad enough.

“Hey, nice flight today.” Dain catches you as the rest of your squad clears out the flight field.

“Thanks, we’ve been working at that maneuver for a while.” You wink at your dragon who’s lifting his chest in pride.

“Good job. Let’s go for lunch.” Dain falls into step beside you as you walk to the courtyard.

MY good job. Your dragon reminds you in your head.

You could also let me take a bit of the credit. You poke at him jokingly.

When you’re the one flying it I’ll bow to you. He argues back with sass before returning to the vale to do his own thing, not talking to you anymore for the moment.

“I’ll catch you later, alright?” Dain promises as you near the commotion of the quadrant.

“Sure.” You nod, smiling at him.

He kisses the top of your head before departing in his own direction and you join the few friends you have in your squad, most of them other marked children. People in this place were not in the habit of forgiving and forgetting what your parents did years ago, so you mostly stuck to ‘your own kind’, as most would call it. After lunch you have a physics class and then you’re free for the day, which means you’ll probably stop by the gym to train a little and hopefully will find a bit of time to work on the battle brief assignment you’ve been putting off for the past couple days. As you’re making your way across the rotunda, Dain catches you.

“Hey.” He greets you again with the damn smile of his that made you weak in the knees.

“Well hi to you again.” You laugh. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask, do you want to go to the Reunification Day party with me?” Dain offers, catching you off guard as you stumble over your words to answer.

“I… don’t know… I mean, it’s a little sore subject…” Your sight slides to your friends talking in the hall.

“Come on. Please?” he smiles at you sideways.

“I’ll think about it.” You promise little lost for words.

What would your brother think of you for coming to such a celebration? On the other hand, it’s just a day, right? Could you pretend it was just a day? That it wasn’t tied to the execution of your father and possibly every adult figure you knew up until that day? But maybe you could make it just a party..? The thoughts don’t leave your head even as you come to the gym a few hours later, ready to spar and train with someone, looking over the mostly usual occupants. No Dain in sight tonight, but instead you had your pick of marked cadets and a few other first or second years who were a little behind. Your brother’s girlfriend was apparently one of them, resting leaning on the wooden pillar.

“Hey, Violet, can I ask you something?” You greet her.

“Sure, what’s up?” She smiles at you, lazily drinking form her water bottle.

“Do you think it’s okay if I go to the Reunification Day celebration? Dain invited me, and I… I don’t know if it’s right.” You admit, your eyes scanning over Xaden and Bodhi working out on the other side of the gym.

“I think if you want to go, you should.” Violet answers after a minute of thinking. “It doesn’t have to be just a day of depression and sorrow if you don’t want it to be.”

“Alright, thanks… Will you help me find a dress?” You plead with a glint in your eye, clearly you didn’t need too much convincing.

“Fine, if you teach me the maneuver you do with the knife I’ll help you.” She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“Deal!” You nod eagerly, ready to get to work.

A week later you’re standing in front of your mirror, brushing out any wrinkles in your skirt. You’re wearing a strapless sweetheart neckline corset burgundy dress with a princess A-line skirt that’s almost the same color as the dragon relic on your chest. Your rebellion relic curves around your arm freely, you had no reason to be ashamed of it today. You wanted to show it with pride. Dain waits for you outside the door, linking his arm with yours after he picks his jaw off the floor.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Hope so.” The nerves evident in your voice.

“Don’t worry, you’re the most beautiful rider in the quadrant.” He assures you as you step into the great hall.

“That’s not what I’m afraid of.” You admit in a whisper.

Immediately you’re faced with two colonels who greet Dain and you smally bow to them. They hardly spared you a glance, but their stance towards you is palpable. People are equally surprised and disgusted to actually see you turn up, which is quite ironic considering the school tried to force every cadet to participate no matter their origin. Everyone around whispering about the relic wrapped around your arm.

“What an interesting choice of company.” One of them measures you with his sight, both clearly displeased with your presence.

“You want a drink?” Dain asks noticing your sudden shyness.

He walks off with you still linked on his arm all the way to the refreshments bar. He chooses a drink for the both of you, scanning the crowd of colonels, lieutenants, generals and other important personnel of Navarre. You could hardly believe so many of them chose to get together in such a place, weren’t they afraid the marked ones could try something on them? Or were they so blinded by their unreachability they gloated in it?

“Yeah… maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe I shouldn’t be here.” You admit as you’re sipping from the glass he gave you.

“Nonsense. Come on, let’s dance.” He almost drags you to the dance floor before you can react.

As you twirl in the rhythm of waltz and old Navarrian dance, you smile at each other as if there’s no one else in the room. For a moment you have your own little bubble filled only with the presence of each other and the warm feelings you share. Like the first sunrise after a heavy storm. The days he was afraid of his feelings for you seem suddenly so distant, as if they happened in another life because now, all he knows is you.

“I didn’t know you can dance like that.” He wows amazed.

“I was practically a duchess.” You remind him, finishing the dance with a twirl.

He takes your arm once again, leading you off the floor, flushed and beaming with a smile that freezes on your face the moment you realize who suddenly stopped before you and why Dain went not only to a full stop but completely rigid. He looked like even his heart and blood flow stopped as he stared into the eyes of his own father.

“Evening.” General Sorrengail greets you and you bow your head to her and colonel Aetos next to her.

“Is this who you’re taking to the Reunification celebration? Riorson’s daughter? Disgusting.” Aetos fires immediately at Dain, you clearly not even worth his sight.

“Dad…” he tries to negotiate letting go of your hand. “It’s not…”

“No. You’re not my son.” The brutality in his voice takes you back. “My child would never shame me like that.”

“Hey. That’s not necessary…” You defend Dain, slightly stepping in front of him.

“I’m not talking to you, you filthy traitor. Dishonorable just like your father.” You take a step back as if he had actually punched you.

Dain uses the space between you two to stride away, leaving you behind with the two leaders as his angry steps echo away. Clearly he was too preoccupied with what he just heard to even remember he had you with him. Now you really felt out of place, your cheeks slightly reddening. You could hold your own but it didn’t mean you appreciated being left alone in the presence of every higher up who ever wanted you dead in one room.

“Dain…” You try to call after him but he’s long gone.

“Some heroic boyfriend you got there.” General Sorrengail mocks you and you wrap your hands in fists before you turn around and practically run out of the room, echoes of laughter following you out.

You couldn’t believe the humiliation they all gave you. It’s one thing for them to treat you with no respect, but to personally attack your father? And for Dain to leave you there hanging as if he didn’t just bring you into the hungry lion’s coop? As you’re trying to breathe in some fresh air of the night in the courtyard, you’re surprised by a group of Xaden, Garrick and Bodhi in flight leathers, accompanied by Violet and Imogen coming out of the gym.

“Seriously? We have so much to worry about and this is what you do? Go to a party to celebrate our father’s death?” Xaden furiously stares at you in your dress.

Suddenly you felt a little stupid for even considering going in the first place and then actually doing it. His angry sight made you feel tiny and weak, even tho everyone was compared to Xaden. The anger and betrayal overcoming the disappointment on his face. You let him down. There weren’t many occasions in your life when he had actually let you know that.

“Xaden this is really not a good time for this…” You try to moderate but it falls on deaf ears.

“No, it’s a perfect time. What did you think you’re doing celebrating the death of our parents!?” He thunders at you.

“It was just a dance…” You try to oppose with a little voice full of uncertainty.

“I’m ashamed of you, Y/n. Our father would be disgraced by you. You’re not my family. You do not deserve our name. You’re not worth being my sister.” He levels you, angrily turning on his heel.

“Xaden!” You call after him, tears threatening to spill as Violet runs after him.

You look over your other friends, but all you see in their faces is disgust and hate. Garrick uncompromisingly shakes his head and Bodhi looks at you with the utmost disappointment, before they all leave you standing there. Your tears flow down your face as you make your way to the last person you still have to talk to and gently knock on his door. Maybe he’s not there? Maybe he’s cooling off somewhere else? But then you hear rustling of clothes and slow steps.

“Hey…” You whisper as Dain opens the door.

“What do you want.” He spits, your heart clenching.

“Seems like I’ve been now also disowned by my family so…” You don’t get the chance to say anything more.

“Like I care. Leave me the fuck alone Y/n, I want nothing to do with you. You were a mistake.” With that he slams the door in your face, almost hitting your nose.

Lost for what to do, you get to your room, sinking to the ground by your bed and crying your eyes out into the duvet. This was supposed to be just a sweet night with your boyfriend, one filled with dancing and sweetness and love, so why did it turn out so horribly? How could you lose every single person you had in the matter of just a few hours?

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #dain aetos #dain aetos x reader #dain aetos angst #fourt wing angst #rebecca yarros #fourth wing fanfiction #the empyrean #the empyrean fanfic #the empyrean fanfiction #the empyrean series #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson angst #fourth wing x you #dain aetos x you #xaden Riorson x you

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beanclaw · 1 year ago

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Aqua Regia

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem! Reader

Tw: HOTD content. MDNI

[Chapter 1] Chapter 2 Chapter 3

⊹ ࣪ ˖﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ｡° ⚔︎｡°⊹ ࣪ ˖

Summary: Jacaerys Velaryon admired you even before he met you. Sometimes, when he and the other Targaryen kids get scolded, your name would pop up for comparison. Though perhaps there is some truth to the servant gossips about you being secretly cruel beneath your perfection. His heart soared when you first met, then fell splat into the ocean of obscurity that is you, when you proceeded to ignore him whenever there were no adults around to prompt you back into your facade.

Jacaerys Velaryon often joined in on teasing Aemond. Although of indisputable lineage Aemond was, in everyone's eyes, inferior for not having a dragon of his own, at least only in that aspect. Whispers of him being outdone even by the Strong bastards are not as hushed as they ought to be. Aemond would hear them, as would Jacaerys. Jace wanted to believe that he was not a bastard. He had a dragon, unlike his silver haired half-nephew Aemond (who is also older than him). But evidences showed otherwise. Scrutinizing looks, cruel jibes, and not-so-hushed whispers loomed over him larger than any dragon. If he was to name this feeling, he'd name it after Balerion, The Black Dread.

He liked to believe that he teased his dragonless nephew out of a sense of superiority, it sounded better than what he denies even in himself. He wanted to belong. Simple as that. He was not superior in any way, in fact if it weren't for his grandsire's blind devotion towards his only daughter from his first queen, they'd all be exiled, if not dead.

He'd joined Aegon in his teasing, glad whenever he wasn't on the receiving end as he usually is, walked with Helaena in the gardens, and had a silent truce in the library with Aemond as they would read on the same table at times. He liked to think that Aemond understood, that they were both outsiders in their own home. But they never really had that kind of conversation.

Only one of the Targaryen-Hightower siblings confused him so.

You were, to everyone, the most enigmatic. Your twin Helaena was dreamy and odd, but not threatening in any way. Your other siblings were easily predictable. One knows exactly what Aegon would pick up first on the dinner table, and how he treats the women around him. Everyone knows Helaena did not do well in social situations, preferring to be left alone with her books or with the company of her tiny many-legged friends. Aemond, who wanted to be seen as mysterious, was most predictable. One knows exactly how he would react with the many different ways to prod anger out of him.

Aegon did not care for Jacaerys nor his brothers, too busy guzzling wine and pinching servant girls. Helaena certainly did not mind them, Aemond avoided them, while the adults were plainly disgusted by their existence. You, Jacaerys decided, was a pretender. Ignoring Jacaerys even when your brothers would notice him when they were in a cordial mood but acting like you were intimate friends when there are adults watching.

Jacaerys remembers vividly, the first time he met you.

They were busy hacking at training dummies. Aegon would only swing his sword in a half-assed manner. Aemond trained hard enough for both of them, anyway. You’d just arrived from Oldtown after receiving your youngest brother Daeron who was sent to be cupbearer to some Hightower Lord and train for his knighthood, and also replace you. No one at this time knows why you chose not to stay at Oldtown, especially when multiple sources say that the Hightowers adored you. ‘A prime example of purity, modesty and piety. The Mother and The Maiden in human form.’ they’d say.

“She probably got bored of being worshipped.” Aemond once said as a jest, although the apparent envy laced thickly in his voice suggested to Jacaerys that he was not in a jesting mood at all. Servants say, you were secretly cruel beneath the perfect exterior of your facade, while others see this as farce. You were only a child, not a masterful, conniving, opportunist. It is said that you were bound to command respect and adoration. Elder twin sister of Helaena, just as beautiful and gentle, but with a firmness and coldness no one would want to receive from you. But not cruel, no, you were just a little girl after all, your mother’s daughter.

You welcomed your brothers in an embrace the moment you stepped out of the carriage. Jacaerys had never seen you before as he was born the same year as Daeron and by then, you were already sent to Oldtown. He did not know how to act. Should he greet you? Welcome you back home? Would it be impertinent of him, seeing that he was practically a stranger to you? What IF you knew him, knew him as the bastard who was stealing your elder brother’s birthright as the eldest son of the king? He expected you to turn your towards him with a sneer, maybe even a jab at his illegitimacy. ‘So this is the bastard I keep hearing about.’ He could almost hear you say.

He did not expect you to engulf him in a hug as well. “No one ever told me my nephew's an adorable one.” You laughed. He found you agreeable, warm. You ruffled his hair into a mess, commenting about how soft it was, a stark contrast with your own brothers greasy hair. He watched as your eyes flitted over to the balcony overlooking the training yard. You raise your hand to greet the king, then pushed apart Aegon and Aemond who were crowding you as you make your way to finally see your father up close.

Jacaerys was delighted at the prospect of befriending you. You were exactly as described. Beaming like a saint, bright and kind. Your voice was soothing, eyes the deepest shade of violet, silver and gold hair almost reaching the back of your knees.

Until he received from you not the warmth of building friendship, but complete disregard.

He went up to you in the library, no one else was around save you and him. He had his favorite book in his arms, eyes wide and looking up at you, as he asked if he could read by your side. He only wanted to spend time with you, maybe get to know you better. Mostly to hear your gentle voice coo at him again as you did in the training yard. But you did none of these things. You only looked down at him and gestured at a seat. He ignored the change of attitude at first, then he could not help but let his smile waver as you stood up the moment he set himself down comfortably beside you. You did not even look back as you left.

You weren’t completely ignoring his existence, nor were you pretending that you were not able to perceive him like your other siblings would often do until they got bored. You were simply tolerating him. He was confused. Had he done something to earn your scorn? Did your brothers convince you that he wasn't worth your time?

He could do nothing but watch in the distance as you laughed along with your brothers, roamed the garden with Helaena, and rode your dragon, your absurdly long hair dancing in the wind. The way you walked entranced him. Graceful but powerful, confident. When you talk, you needn't raise your voice for people to listen to you. You were almost always composed. The minutest movements controlled, facial expressions practiced. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that you were being trained to be queen. But he suspected no man here would ever approve of the queen carrying around a blade now would they?

Jacaerys was confused when you chose to ignore him in the library, then he was absolutely livid when you acted as if you've done no such thing in front of his own mother. When you finally finished with your rounds in the castle, done catching up with old friends, you finally strutted up to Rhaenyra's chamber and knocked upon her door.

He was sitting on the floor, chin propped on the couch where his mother sat, with his younger brother Lucerys reclining with his head on Rhaenyra's lap. They all stood to greet the princess, and Jacaerys observed as his mother showered this two-faced Targaryen with praises and kisses, saying she was glad for her safe return home.

Lucerys, ignorant to the feelings of his brother, leapt at the chance to make friends with this newcomer and you were absolutely smitten. Or at least that's what you wanted them to think. You acted as if you had not left Jacaerys humiliated and alone in the library. At first, Jacaerys chalked it up to exhaustion, or maybe you just weren't in the best of moods. But it wasn't the only time you'd looked down at him, blankly taking in his bright expression only to douse him in cold indifference. Now you greeted him like you were great friends, hugged his mother as if you did not despise her own sons, and played with his younger brother as if you truly adored him, like you wouldn't just ignore him when no one was looking.

Jacaerys learned to dislike you. He disliked you more than he did your own brothers because they at least made it clear that they did not care for him, whereas you would take time out of your day to act sweetly towards him only to walk past him down the corridors as if you were strangers.

He disliked you but he did not hate you. How could he, when you had such a nice disposition. You trained hard with your sword, commissioned by the King's Hand himself, surprisingly. And you had a dragon so graceful and pale that you could see the web of fiery veins in its wings, rivaling Aegon's Sunfyre in terms of beauty.

He could not possibly hate you, especially when he realized (after nights of serious contemplation) that you did not owe him friendship. It was natural for you to dislike him for reasons he himself acknowledges. You weren't a two-faced schemer who delighted in humiliating him, you were simply doing your duty as princess, by being polite and not stirring trouble for the grown ups. You ignored him yes, but also never even mentioned his questionable parentage. He also took note of the fact that your brothers never even teased him about it when you were around.

⚔️ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ✩ ° ｡⋆ ⚔️⚔︎⚔︎⚔️ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆ ✩ ° ｡⋆ ⚔️

Jacaerys absolutely despised the situation he was in. Aegon was much taller, older and stronger than him, he could not possibly win. Ser Harwin said he could, and he did not want to disappoint him.

When he caught your eye as you descended from the stairs to watch, he wished for respite, not just for this gruelling session in training, but this life in general. He wished for the ground to just swallow him up whole.

In the second round, he lunged first, hoping to surprise Aegon to maybe make him stumble, but the older boy only kicked him to the ground, then continuously showered upon him a barrage of blows so hard it knocked the sword off his hand. He knew his arms would be hurting after this. Then tensions arise as Ser Harwin Strong pulled Aegon off of him and called Ser Criston Cole out for playing favourites, for neglecting the Princess Rhaenyra’s sons in their training. Words were thrown about. Jacaerys hardly knew how to react, he only pulled Lucerys aside as it became apparent that blows were about to be exchanged instead of words. You stood, hands clasped behind your back, eyebrow raised as you seemingly judged these grown men struggling to contain a single furious man. Jacaerys heard you snicker when Ser Harwin successfully landed a blow on Ser Criston, knocking him to the ground.

Both men were dismissed, Ser Criston to get his wounds looked at, and Ser Harwin by his own father. You looked up at where King Viserys sat, shaking his head. You sighed, hesitating, before you decided to approach your older brother.

“That was quite a spectacle, brother.” You did not need to turn around in order to know that Jacaerys was glaring at you. But when you did, you found his glare directed at the ground instead of you. You walk towards him and Lucerys, the younger one smiling up at you, while the older brother only looked confused. You stood beside him, bringing your hands to his head, then to your own. “We are…almost the same height. I’m only half a head taller. Spar with me.” The last part you directed at your own brother.

Aegon scoffed, the corner of his lip raised in amused incredulity. “What are you on about, sister?”

“Ser Triston Pole was right. You had the advantage of height. I, myself, am learning how to wield a sword. I’d like to see how well I’d do with a taller opponent.”

Aegon glanced at the Velaryon brothers, then at you. “Right. Why exactly are you even allowed to carry around a blade with you?”

“Why, are you afraid to be bested by a much shorter opponent? Someone almost as short as the Velaryon prince. Sure I’m a little bit taller, but I’m also a girl. That should lessen your…whatever is making you hesitate to do to me the same thing you willingly did to a member of your family."

Aegon let out a laugh, although it held no amusement now. “First of all.” He shook his head. “There is a lot to digest in everything you’ve just said.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t have problems regarding digestion if you drank less wine.”

Aegon bristled, a visible tightening in his jaw made Jacaerys nervous.

“You are absolutely right on one thing. You are a girl. And a girl has no business running around with a sword. Might cut yourself dear sister.”

You only rolled your eyes. “Queen Visenya herself used to run around with a sword. She even drew it once and slashed King Maegor across the cheek…to teach her brother a lesson.”

Aegon groaned, and pushed Aemond aside, although the boy wasn’t in his way at all. “You asked for this.” He said.

The fight made King Viserys lean towards the balcony. One might wonder why the King did not intervene and only watched as his beloved daughter took up a wooden sword against his eldest son, but one must note that the Princess might have already established a deal in order to be allowed a sword in the first place. One must also remember that it is the king's Hand, Otto Hightower himself that had a sword commissioned for the Princess, one she can wield with ease so that she could fight to defend herself. The Maiden of The Seven personified wielding a sword.

She was the one who did as Aegon had done to Jacaerys, and did not let up until Aegon was on the ground with his sword knocked out of his reach. It wasn’t a graceful fight. It included a lot of shoving, and shouting, with fiery words spat at each other. You got hit in the chin by the hilt of his wooden sword, it failed to knock you unconscious as Aegon had hoped but it did cause you to bite your tongue. You ignored the bleeding, although it unnerved you how easily he could’ve ended the fight in one blow. This only enraged you further, and the fight ended with Aegon’s defeat.

That night, you weren’t able to attend dinner, as Maesters fussed over your wound while Aegon gorged himself on your favorite food.

Back at their mother’s chambers, while waiting for their father Laenor Velaryon, Lucerys recounted what had happened on the yard that day. Jacaerys chose to keep silent, though he couldn’t help but speak up when Lucerys said something he did not agree with.

“She did it to see if she can fight someone taller than her, not to defend us or anything of the sort.”

Lucerys grimaced at him before turning to his mother. “He’s only mad because she prefers me over him.”

Jacaerys failed to suppress an absolutely offended look as his chin retracted, his eyes wide and almost bulging. “Excuse me?”

Lucerys only shrieked in glee at the bug-eyed look his brother gave him and so he did what he thought was best to do in such a situation and threw a couch pillow at Jacaerys.

Rhanyra chuckled at her sons lively energy as she grabbed Jacaerys before he could tackle Lucerys to the ground. She had been worried sick at what was bound to happen next, now that Ser Harwin Strong had snapped. Seeing her sons smile eased the heaviness in her chest.

“Honestly I’m not surprised she did that.” She simply said, more to herself than anything.

“What do you mean, mother?” Jacaerys asked.

Rhaenyra shifted, pulling at a part of her skirt that Jacaerys had sat on. “The Princess Enigmatic. She is called as such because no one ever knows what she is thinking, even what she likes, just her favorite food and even that may not even be true. At least that is what most people in the court say, even the servants.”

“I don’t understand. How can she be enigmatic? Everyone knows she is pious, devoted to The Seven. She rides her dragon a lot, she studies the histories and philosophy with disdain although she loves to read, and that she knows how to fight. That’s not so mysterious,” Jacaerys said .

Rhaneyra laughed. “She may not be a mystery to you, my dear. With such intensive knowledge about her.” Jacaerys clamped his mouth shut as his cheeks heated up.

“You see,” She continued. “Sometimes when people cannot or chooses not to understand someone, they see that person as the one at fault. The Princess is both a Hightower and a Targaryen. A dragon that people in her life have been trying to tame with the bonds of a religion she may not even truly believe in. She is called enigmatic because she adjusts herself according to the person she needs to please. And she’s learned in quite a short time how to wrap people around her fingers and how to balance the two sides of her heritage.”

She leaned close towards Jacaerys to whisper. “No one wants to say it aloud because doing so questions her devotion to The Seven, and Alicent Hightower will not have it. But you are right. People tend to exaggerate and in this case, they did so, too much to my liking. The Princess is not that much of a mystery nor does she try to pose as one. I would know. She spent more time with me than her own mother.” This she said with a bittersweet tone. “She is a wonderful girl who only wants the best for everyone, especially her twin. She is not enigmatic, she is loving.

Jacaerys looked down, deep in his thoughts, before nodding. “I understand.”

“I am glad my son chooses to observe for himself, rather than immediately believing what a person says about another.”

There was one mystery that Jacaerys wanted to be answered most. Why does she ignore him in private? His own formulated answers, although logical did not satisfy him because he cannot confirm them himself. And he did not want to ask his mother this one because it will surely make her think too much about things and might arrive at a conclusion that is far from truth. He nodded mentally at himself. Best not give his family more fuel to tease him, Lucerys was already unbearable and he won’t be able to take more without bursting into flames.

The next day, you still were not present for breakfast. Jacaerys wondered if your injuries were much more serious than he thought. For a moment, while pinching at his bread, breaking it apart and rolling it into tiny bits, he entertained the thought of visiting you. Perhaps, in the safety and privacy of your own quarters, he'd get to see the real you. He let his mind wander, daydreaming about how he'd go about asking you if he'd done anything to offend you, or if you truly were not interested in being friends with him, he'd apologize and tell you that he won't disturb you ever again. He glanced at his younger brother, Lucerys. Perhaps he could use him as an excuse to visit you. But then he won't be able to talk to you in private. He shook his head. He won't go. You were injured, he shouldn't disturb you from your rest.

For the first time that morning he raised his head, only to find that Aegon had been looking at him inquisitively. He felt his brows furrow before he could school his expression to that of indifference.

Aegon finally approached him the moment they reached a silent hall leading to where they kept the dragons. Dark stone walls seemed to be closing in, looming over him like Aegon, whose nose flared in anger, as he glared down at Jacaerys.

“Don't think you can be so smug just because of what happened yesterday.” He grabbed Jacaerys by the collar, forcing him to take a step back.

Lucerys, huffed, and without a word scampered off, running as fast as his tiny legs could carry him.

Aegon watched him go, one eyebrow raised as he snorted. “Some brother you have. What, no honor among bastards?”

Jacaerys pushed his hands off with a grunt. “Get off me!” He exclaimed.

Aegon only laughed before stepping back.

“I don't even know what you're talking about.” Jacaerys said.

“You're lucky I did not break your jaw yesterday. Though I wish I did…running around smiling like a cocky little cunt.”

“I'm not even doing anything.” Jacaerys all but shrieked.

Aegon leaned down on him, “Well, then why would my sister, of all people, humiliate me for you? To defend you?” His voice had risen at that last part, making Jacaerys flinch.

“She did no such thing. You heard her yourself, she did it because she wanted to see—”

“See if she could take on a bigger opponent, lies, fucking lies.” Aegon waving a hand furiously around, before running it through his hair.

“Me and my sister…we fight a lot. But only when she thinks I've done something wrong to Helaena, or when I said something ‘hurtful’ to Aemond, or disobeyed mother, or the Lord Hand. But you?” He chuckled. “She had no reason to start a fight over you. You deserved that beating! And it wasn't my fault you were weak. I hate it. I hate it when she looks at me with those eyes.” he'd started to rant.

“You're making things more complicated than they actually are. It was a coincidence.” Jacaerys said, almost in a pleading way, not wanting to receive a second beating.

Aegon paused from his spiel. Then, he turned towards Jacaerys once again. “She's mad at me because of you. I knew it, you've been following her around like a lost puppy, styling yourself a poor, innocent ‘little prince’ bullied for allegations about your parentage knowing her heart would be soft towards pathetic little cunts like you. I knew you'd try to latch on to her like the pest that you are. Leeching off of anyone who showed even a sliver of kindness to you.”

Aegon was screaming now, right at Jacaerys, the unmistakable stench of alcohol wafting to the younger's face, and in his fury, he shoved Jacaerys hard against the stone walls causing the younger to cry out.

“You knew how fond she was of your mother and thought to gain her affection for yourself, you thieving little shit.”

Aegon stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet. A torrent of curses spilled from his lips before stopping abruptly. You stood, hands behind your back, face filled with utter disgust. You'd pulled the older boy off of Jacaerys without him even realizing you were there. Just how much did you hear?

Lucerys peeked at Aegon from behind you, his hands clutching at your skirt. Aegon suppressed a grimace at the sight of you shielding those two bastards from him, your own brother.

“Sister,” he exclaimed after a moment, smiling sheepishly. “I was just—” he swallowed nervously. “Doing as you said.

“Is this how a prince apologizes to a person he wronged?”

Aegon blinked, lips twitching. “You know what?” He started. “You were there yesterday, what happened was hardly my fault.”

Your glare softened. “I wasn't only referring to what happened yesterday, Aegon. But you're right. I'm going to have to discuss the matter with Ser Crispy Cone. You and I will talk later, in private. Now go, mother is looking for you.”

Aegon keeps his eyes on you without a word, before leaving. Not even sparing a glance to the younger boy he was terrorizing only moments ago.

You set your attention on Lucerys with a smile. “Thank you, Luke. For doing as I asked. Now, will you please go ahead of us and inform the maester that Jacaerys might be late for today's lesson? Just tell him the prince is with me.”

“My pleasure, princess.” Lucerys answered, too enthusiastically in Jacaerys’ opinion.

The two of you waited in silence as Lucerys’ footsteps were far enough away to be inaudible.

“My prince, you must allow me to apologize for my brother's behavior. What he has done to you is not fair. I am not talking only about yesterday, but about all of the times he hurt you.”

Jacaerys kept his eyes on the ground. “It's fine.” He said, straining to even force those words from his lips.

You approach him, slowly. “If…if he bothers you again, just tell me.”

You almost flinch as he finally looks up at you, glaring.

“Why are you still here?” He asks.

You knew why he asked such a thing, but you kept silent, sensing that he had more to say.

“No one is looking, Princess. You do not need to waste your time pretending to be cordial with me. So why, if I may ask, is the princess suddenly interested in my own affairs?”

You shook your head. “I am not ‘suddenly’ interested, I—” You caught yourself. You looked away, hesitating.

“It is understandable for you to hold contempt over me.” You said. “I've deliberately played with your feelings. I knew you wanted to be friends with me, at first. I couldn't help it, you see. Watching you become sullen everytime you are rejected is quite entertaining.”

Jacaerys took a deep breath, feeling the air he breathed fill his lungs, hoping the pressure would dull the ache in his chest as you smiled down at him. You were a sadist, he thought.

“But, really. I did it for you.”

He frowned, before giving you an incredulous look. Whatever excuse you would conjure to justify your actions, he was determined to shoot down.

“To openly express my fondness for my nephews will only give my brothers more reason to make your life a living hell. I had to ignore you and only acknowledge your presence when needed. Look at how my brother reacted when I defended you, for the first time, might I add.”

“Do not make it seem like you had no choice, you said so yourself that you found amusement in rejecting me, humiliating me.”

You paused as you listened, noticing his voice become heavy the more he bared to you with his feelings and thoughts, the direct consequences of your actions.

“What else could I have done but indulge my ego, seeing someone desire my friendship so desperately.”

“I was not desperate—”

“Like I said, prince. Indulgence. You'd be surprised at how often I decide to convince myself that I feel a certain way just to not feel disappointment at my own actions. I hurt you on purpose and you have no idea what your visible disappointment does to me. No idea that every time I have to keep myself from spoiling you with gifts and affection I die inside. And I have never, ever wanted to keep someone looking up to me as you do. Your family, I value. The way you see me, I wanted to keep pristine. I hold your whole family in high regard.” You paused, catching your breath and willing yourself to keep your voice level.

“I received so many ravens, read so many instances that my brothers gleefully reported to me, informing me of every cruel thing they did, and said to you. And when I arrived, you were nothing but a sweet, little thing. So I did my best to educate my brothers. Mother says it is not my duty to stop them from treating you and your brother the way they do but this isn't about duty. This is about family.”

You leaned down to his level to look at him straight in the eye and you knew he wanted to understand you.

“Now I know that it was a waste of effort. I should not have pretended to be indifferent when I was anything but. I will no longer play pretend with my brothers, and you. If you will let me. I am truly sorry, for treating you as I did. I was eager to be friends with you, just as I am friends with your mother. But my love for the princess Rhaenyra is…easily explained. She taught me everything I know, spent more time with me than my own mother. But to be friends with you—”

“With bastards, you mean.” Jacaerys cuts her off before he could stop himself, his emotions had loosened his tongue. A mistake one cannot truly blame a child for, even if his upbringing should have trained him in the art of rhetorics. "Allegedly,” he stammered.

“With the heirs that pushed my own brothers down the line of succession.” You clarified. Then with a shrug you added. “I care not about who gets to sit on the iron throne. I’ve no desire to worry needlessly about things I cannot control. But I still care for the people I love and I will protect them as best I can. I wish everyone cared less about it. Especially my family. My mother is convinced that Rhaenyra would immediately put us all to the sword without asking us to bend the knee to be spared. Makes me wonder if they ever were friends. But I digress.”

You paused, scanning Jacaerys’ face.

“Evidently, you are a smart boy. You see, my brothers need not be protective of Helaena, she’s rarely interested in anything other than books and bugs. They need not be protective of me either, I saw to that myself, but I know them. They’d jump at any chance to pummel you to the ground. Aegon literally nearly pummeled me to the ground when I confronted him about what he’d done to you. Granted, I all but asked for it.”

“What happened yesterday, I do not understand why you did such a thing, what point you were trying to make. Did you really just want to see how you’d do with a bigger opponent?”

You smiled as you leaned back. “Like I said back then, I wanted to teach him a lesson. I did not find it necessary for him to be so harsh to you. I mostly blame Cone, even though that may be a bit foolish of me, I still do. I'll have a talk with that man. You know, I only knew him for a couple of days and I already know he’s good at riling people up, shoving sticks up their arses so he wouldn’t be alone in being a bitter, bitter man.”

Jacaerys let out a burst of giggles, before clasping a hand on his mouth to muffle it. You laughed then, realizing that you spoke too freely.

“Forgive me, little prince. I should not have spoken so bluntly.”

“I think that was more than just blunt.” He whispered.

“Well, I won’t get in trouble if you tell no one.”

Jacaerys nodded. His earlier apprehensions vanished into thin air. “I, too, find Ser Criston Cole foul.”

You shook your head, giggling. “He is fetid, reeking of rotten self-righteousness.”

He pushed himself off the wall now, no longer shrinking into himself, eyes bright in mischief. “He is a repulsive git, a snake and a bad influence. He’s like a character in a novel where the author obviously set him up as this man that we’re supposed to root for, complete with a humble and tragic backstory, but instead just makes the readers pull out their hairs in frustration everytime he so much as opens his stinking mouth.”

You clutched at your belly, bursting into laughter. At that time. Both of you were thinking the same thing. ‘We should have done this sooner.’

Next chapter

A/N: this fic will have three chapters, each one will be abt the development of their relationship during three different phases. Currently writing the next part.

#I've no hate for ser crispy kreme #not my fault these characters do #or is it?#HOTD #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #lucerys velaryon #prince lucerys #rhaenyra targeryan #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #beanstuff

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slutoru1207 · 2 months ago

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Nowhere to Run pt 2

GIF by red-rift

Mohawk Mark x Reader

The silence stretches between you and Mohawk Mark like a tense wire, but it's broken by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. It’s the kind of growl that could be heard by a mile away, echoing over the barren landscape like a dying animal’s last plea for food.

Mark winces, then shoots you a sideways glance. "Not my fault," he mutters defensively, as if you were somehow responsible for his digestive issues. "You wouldn’t believe how much energy it takes to look this good all the time."

You snort despite yourself, arms crossed tightly as you eye the horizon. "Yeah, I’m sure it takes a lot of energy to look like you just woke up in a dumpster after a bender."

"Hey," Mark says, raising an eyebrow. "I’ll have you know that I’m the pinnacle of rugged charm. These things take time. This?" He gestures to himself dramatically, "This is perfection in motion."

"Uh huh," you deadpan, scanning the wasteland for anything that could pass as a food source or even a way out of here. "If perfection means looking like you fought a rockslide and lost, then yeah. You’re totally perfect."

Mark chuckles, but the sound is short-lived as another growl erupts from his stomach, sounding almost ashamed.

"Okay, okay, you win," he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "But seriously, if we're gonna make it out of here, we need to find food. And I'm pretty sure you're not gonna find a McDonald's in this hellhole."

You squint at the desolate landscape, considering your options. "Well, unless you're planning to make some weird version of a rock salad, I don't think we're getting anything here. You're gonna have to survive on whatever wild survival instincts you have."

Mark gives a small sigh, muttering, "Great. Just what I need—survival training with you." But then he smirks. "I mean, I'm sure you'll be useful. You probably know how to catch a rabbit or something."

"Yeah, sure. And I'm sure you know how to make fire with your charming personality."

"I could," he counters, turning to face you fully now, his eyes gleaming with the same cocky confidence, "but I’m gonna need a good campfire companion to keep me entertained. You up for the challenge?"

"God help me," you mutter under your breath. "I’d rather deal with a mutant bear at this point."

The moment passes in a stretch of silence, and you both just stand there in the middle of nowhere. The tension between you is palpable, yet there's something oddly comfortable in the banter, as if this dysfunctional, sarcastic dynamic could be the only thing holding your sanity together in this vast, lonely wasteland.

Mark finally shakes his head and groans. "Look, we need to figure this out. And unless you’re secretly a survival expert, we’re gonna have to work together. But only because I’m feeling generous."

You snort. "Yeah, that’s definitely the reason."

"Yeah," he says, cracking his neck, "So, what’s the plan, huh? You got anything in that head of yours?"

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at the horizon. "I don't know, you got any ideas besides annoying the hell out of me?"

His smirk returns. "Well, I was thinking we could wait for a dragon to fly by and swoop us out of here. Or... we could, y'know, just walk."

You blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious or just completely insane. "Oh sure, that’ll totally work."

Mark shrugs, still with that damned smirk on his face. "Hey, no harm in dreaming, right?"

You’re about to retort when your stomach rumbles, an embarrassing reminder that you haven’t eaten in hours either. You glance over at Mark, who’s still looking at you with a faintly amused expression.

"Alright, fine," you mutter. "We’ll walk. But if we end up eating dirt for dinner, I’m blaming you."

"Deal," Mark says, offering you an exaggerated bow. "Lead the way, oh wise survival expert."

You roll your eyes but can't suppress a small smile as you start walking, knowing this journey’s going to be anything but boring.

#invincible x reader #mark grayson invincible #mark x reader #invincible comic #invincible fanfic #mark grayson x reader #invincible season 3 #invincible smut #invincible x you #invincible #mark grayson x you #mohawk invincible

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lightfin · 10 days ago

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How to train your Dragon x tales of Arcadia. P1

Ok, so I’ve wanted to make this post for such a long time but it’s finally here.

My two favourite franchises have always been httyd and Trollhunters, and the fact that it is cannon that these two universes are connected, are not talked enough about.

So, I’m going to talk about it. Some head cannons I’ve got, and why it is cannon in the first place.

So, why do I think it’s possible these two worlds are connected?

First off, both franchises are owned, and made by the same company Dreamworks, so the possibility of the two worlds alining can happen.

Second, the world both are based in is very grounded to our own, just in seperate time periods.

And third, BOTH franchises reference each other closer then any other Dreamworks production has done. But also in a way that doesn’t break the idea itself.

So let’s start at the beginning shall we.

Httyd 1- 2010

Befor the world of Trollhunters was even brought to light, the first how to train your dragon film gives us hints that other magical creatures besides dragons, exist in there world. But not just any creatures as hiccup explains.

“Vikings say that a hideous name will scare off gnomes and trolls.”

Gnomes and trolls! where have I seen those two creatures lining up in the same room?… oh yea.

Furthermore, it’s not the end of it, because Gober later explains.

“Trolls exist! they steel your socks, but only the left ones, ah what’s with that?”

Just to clear up Gober only has a left foot so of course it’s just the leaft ones, but what have we also seen trolls do in Trollhunters on multiple occasions.

And if that doesn’t convince you, let’s move on to Trollhunters, shall we.

Trollhunters season 1, ep 7 ‘To catch a changeling’

After Jim and Toby meet up with Blinky, Aaarrrgghh and Vendel about there discovery of Killahead bridge. They pull out a tarp they think is hiding said bridge, only to reveal a Viking long boat in its place. But not just any model, the same ones used in httyd. This image being of Johanna’s trading ship from RTTE.

Now it could just be a model reuse, just like how Pixar puts in Easter eggs in each of there movies and there not connected. Or aren’t they? because the long boat isn’t the only thing.

On multiple occasions, team trollhunter uncover items like Viking helmets, jugs and various other items from the other franchise, but one of the greatest examples, is in season 2 ep 8 ‘Just add water.’

Where you can see Blinky, Aaarrrgghh and Draal playing a trolls version of D&D ( which I love by the way) using a Maces and Talons board!!

Now for any httyd fans who haven’t watched the shows, Maces and Talons is a strategy game played in Race to the edge (on Netflix) which plays a significant roll in establishing one of the villains motives and cunning.

And it’s used in Trollhunters!

Now you might think, how did they even come to aquire it, why isn’t it in a museum or back with nature. Trolls live for centuries, no doubt a troll during the time period undercover it and somehow bought it to Dwosa and later Trollmarket to be used for other means.

And if that doesn’t convince you, I’ve got more.

In wizards tales of Arcadia, during the dungeon break, there are two, animated Night terrors in one of the cells in Camelot. I’m not joking it’s a blink and you will miss it, but they are there.

Not only are this Viking culture cannon, but the very dragons themselves!

And now for my final peice of evidence, the crown jewel itself, these two images.

A source of light and sustenance- that’s what a heartstone is, and it is the same in both scenarios.

Trollhunter and HTTYD are of the same cannon universe.

And I LOVE THAT!!!!

That opens up so much possibility for storytelling it is blowing my mind!!

Now, I am not forgetting the picture of Toothless on Jim’s desktop laptop in episode one, but I have an explanation for that one too.

What if both the httyd films and characters are cannon to that universe, Hear me out.

In our world, the world and characters are crafted, inspired by the book series we all know and love. So what if instead of books in the TOA world, it’s history.

What if toothless is a well known historical dragon in history, depicted in tapestries, books and architecture that Hiccup and the vikings of Berk left behind that has been discovered by archaeologists of the 21st century. Which have made for interesting story’s to then be adapted into the films. But the films are slightly different from the real life events, which in this case would be the franchise we know. But toothless very much staying the same. Which is realy cool to think about.

( I am not counting the nine realms logic, that was made after both franchises existing, that is not cannon and I will never accept it to be.)

#heartstorm #trollhunters #toa trollhunters #troll hunters #tales of arcadia #httyd franchise #toa #how to train your dragon #httyd dragons #toax httyd #TOA trolls #wizards tales of arcadia #httyd the hidden world #toa x httyd crossover #toa headcanons #httyd headcanon

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mrsrookhunt · 2 years ago

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What To Expect When Your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula| PT. 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Rook Hunt (Part 1)

Part three by popular demand! Malleus, Rook, Floyd, Sebek, Lilia, and Azul with feisty toddlers.

Warnings: angry toddlers, exhausted parents

Note: Every character has more than one child now with the exception of Azul.

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Malleus Draconia

The new princes and princesses of Briar Valley are Tiny Little MenacesTM.

You are Malleus are dealing with two wild toddlers, and one extremely fire-loving baby. Fire-loving, as in, the entire room has had to be fully fire proofed, from the walls to the ceiling.

The other children love being outside and playing, which gets them out of your hair while you attempt to feed and care for baby #3, oven mitts and fire-proof gear on.

The only one that your baby won't lease a barrage of firey giggles onto is Great-Grandma Maleficia, who can pick up the child without worry, a blessing in disguise to poor you and Malleus.

Whenever you aren't trying to wrangle the littlest Draconia heir, you and Malleus' time is filled by playing with rambunctious dragon toddlers. Your oldest is still as mischievous as ever, now taking off in full distance flights with your lunch everytime you turn around, and your younger toddler requiring immense amounts of attention.

All three have been deemed the 'wildest children the Draconia bloodline has ever seen', which says a lot. You hope they grow out of it, but the little ones seem stubbornly wild, with no chance of changing anytime soon.

Long training flights with Malleus often leave you watching the skies for their return at dinner time. It's not the life you imagined. But it's the life you never expect that's the one that satisfies you.

Rook Hunt

"HEYYYYYY!!!! PAPAAAA! LOOK WHAT I CAUGHT!" It's always a peaceful evening when the children are outside, until it's not.

Your 3 year old has been regularly running in with things you don't even know how they've caught as a toddler with no weapons.

Today, it's a bird bigger than your toddler's tiny body.

Rook has been diligently teaching your children how to hunt since they could walk, taking them for small hunting trips and shooting targets with children's play-bows.

Only two of your five children are too young to hunt, in his eyes, and even then you have not escaped their sharp, predatory gaze, which has been present since birth. You have no doubts that all of your children will be hunters. It's definitely a given, and as you've seen from Rook's family, seems to run in their blood.

The toddlers go outside and play on your patio every evening when the heat cools down, allowing you and Rook to have some peace and quiet. Rook is very enamored with the family you've created together. He always dreamed of finding beauty in his future, but never knew it would be so soon, and in the form of a domestic life with a spouse and children.

You and Rook are happy with this life you've created, enjoying the ups and downs of parenthood, the thrills of hunting with your whole family, the cuddly movie nights and soft words exchanged between you and your kids every night before bed.

It's a perfect life, one you never expected get, and never to love as much as you do.

Floyd Leech

It's been challenging for Floyd to be away from the sea for so long. You both agreed that it would be easier and more comfortable to live on land for the sake of your family, but it's definitely been a source of tension. Floyd and the children both go out to sea often as a compromise, leaving you all alone with the family pets and the occasional guest.

When they're home, you all spend hours together playing and loving on each other. All seven of your little ones have grown accustomed to Floyd, and have shifted their little spats of dominance to between each other.

It's true, it's practically a full-time job to keep them all from fighting. The youngest ones are the most ruthless, attacking their siblings and destroying their surroundings entirely as they cry and whine, throwing little catty hands at each other as 'fights'. It seems to do more emotional damage than physical.

Then again, are your surroundings ever not destroyed by the 7 restless children? They're so obscenely playful that they make sure that your life is challenging to say the least. Sometimes you're glad for the break you get when they go for day-long dives under the sea. They're probably making some tornadic-like mess of Jade's home, but that's not the end of the world for you.

Your relationship with Floyd is nothing short of magical. There's still as much love there as there was when you started dating, if not more. Your family has its odd little quirks, but what matters is that you're all together, happy and proud of the life you've created. You are especially thrilled that you made your own life work in a world that wasn't even yours. You've made it your home now, and you could never feel more content than you do now.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek has grown to love his children very much. After your first began to love on him as often as you, he fell completely into the role of a family man. All three of your children love Sebek immensely, having grown fond of him after he let down his guard around them.

Your littlest one is the perfect carbon copy of Sebek, even at 15 months old. Not only does this child seem to possess no personality traits or features of yours, this little one's very first word was 'Mallie'. Sebek could not be prouder, and more eager to train his children in the path of a royal retainer afterwards.

Your oldest is still the wildest little mini croc you've ever seen. Nothing in the parenting books could have prepared you for your child's defiance and strong will. The other two, though relatively calmer children, seem to eagerly egg on your oldest with nonsense excited baby babble.

Now that your oldest's teeth have grown in fully, Sebek has to watch his limbs carefully. His family is known for their bite power, and this child is no exception by a long shot, seeming to have a stronger bite than even Sebek himself. Though your toddler does love Sebek dearly, they haven't learned that biting isn't a game. And after biting clean through a leg of furniture last month, Sebek has been terrified ever since.

The younger two don't use their teeth to bite people, but toys and furniture are a free-for-all.

Your children are very adept and skilled at squirming out of any situation, physically and verbally. You think to yourself that they will in fact make wonderful guards some day, but you don't ever tell Sebek that for fear that he'll make the poor things train even harder to please both of their parents.

You and Sebek end up on the floor, playing games with your very imaginative children quite often, cuddling and laughing with each other while they all pretend to be royal knights and sometimes, doctors. Sebek won't say it but he thinks his oldest would make a very good doctor and he approves.

You've never been happier, and never more in love with Sebek, as is he, you. It's a perfect fairytale world for the two of you. Who knew that Twisted Wonderland would end up becoming where you were always meant to be?

Lilia Vanrouge

C H A O S.

There's twelve little Vanrouges running around, acting absolutely chaotic and mischievous at all times. Poor you and Lilia. Twelve children under four sounds cute but it's an absolute nightmare, especially when they have the lineage of a certain silly fae.

It's manageable, but only because Silver is there suffering with y'all. And barely. Sometimes you think he's about to run out of the house and cry after some unwitting action that led to a vicious prank from one or more children.

Last week, they cornered him from all sides with sticks while you and Lilia were out, and the oldest threatened to poke him in the eyes.

Some mischief, lots pure evil.

It's only you that can scoop them up and tell them to behave, because they are absolutely remorseless in their merciless bullying of their father. Most of them don't even call him dad. They call him 'oldie'. The ones that are too young to talk still laugh at him.

Lilia doesn't mind too much, scolding them for their rudeness, but rarely punishing them. He claims he's too old to be properly disciplining them, but it's quite obvious that he's reminiscent of himself in these children.

During the good moments, you might be able to convince the children to at least make a father's day card, or get them to agree not to prank Silver on his birthday. Usually this is still done with bribery. But sometimes, the sweetest moments are unprompted. Like the time your daughter sat on Lilia's lap and gave him a hug after he watched a scary movie, because 'Daddy might have nightmares.'

Your family is wholly complete Silver hopes and prays. You and Lilia are happy, and content. Lilia is still overjoyed that he got the chance to have biological children, and you're just happy that you've found a place to settle down in Twisted Wonderland, and be happy.

Azul Ashengrotto

You only have one child still? Yeah. He loves your child dearly, but after much consideration and a lot of diapers changed, you decided one was for the best.

Your baby is three now 'Three n' a HALF', your child insists.

Your little one is pretty well-behaved. Despite being a spoiled only child, little Ashengrotto is very humble, kind, and sweet.

Definitely not like their money hungry father. This child just wants animal crackers and time at the swimming pool.

But your child is sharp-witted, just like Azul. There have been many times when you've said something to your toddler and had it immediately debunked with a smug look on their face.

It makes you laugh. And cry, a little bit. Time flies, and your child seems to mentally age two years for the physical price of one.

Your little one reminds you with a smile and crumb-littered cheeks and askew purple octopus glasses that they're still young, and always here for you. You are enthralled with your life with Azul and your baby, a real true blessing. This was how it was always meant to be, even if it wasn't how you ever thought your life would go.

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Unless I write a part 4 by request this is probably the end of the series, but I really loved it! Thank you for coming along!! As always, feel free to request for more.

-Kaori

-July 13th, 2023

@growingupnrealizing , here it is!

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thedarkmistress16 · 10 months ago

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Stalker!Yandere!Tony Stark x Fem!Reader- To Steal and Dote On (Internet stalking, Collecting personal information without consent, Using personal information without consent, This billionaire has resources and he's going to use them, Breaking and entering, Theoretical threats of kidnapping and violence, Invading Reader's privacy without consent, Tony has Reader brainrot already)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 |

Chapter 2: Forget You (Not)

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Only, Tony wasn’t able to shake off the thought of you at all. If anything, you took up his primary focus throughout his day.

A part of him did genuinely forget the party last night as he sat in mind-numbing meetings back-to-back, only attending them now due to his irate assistant chewing him out over it. She practically pushed the billionaire out of the kitchen before coffee even greeted his body, yapping his ear off over technicalities and investors he couldn't care less about. Even though Tony was itching to poke at her in this state, to mention his admiration for how her red hair looked like glowing fire spouting from a dragon when she got like this, he got the strong sense that she would quit if he missed another business meeting.

But he was incredibly bored and disinterested, and you kept plaguing his thoughts with more questions that got his brain desperately intrigued. He couldn’t even distract himself with anything else because none of it was as gear-turning as to the mystery of you.

Your confusion, your… disinterest? Never had he encountered someone who wasn’t there for him specifically, or seemed to have no interest in who he was.

And the fact you just… sat there. It was so out of place, like a nagging flaw in a blueprint he couldn't put his finger on.

Why were you there, if you didn’t care about Tony Stark?

Who were you?

That train of thought led to the male instructing his A.I. to scanning your facial profile from the security cameras of his tower right after he was finally free from the drudgery of business— contently settled into his lab with a fresh batch of coffee. Luckily, the feed from last night got a good look at you. It was a better view than the tipsy haze of his memory, he noted. The mostly-clear footage of your face allowed the system to swiftly correlate your likeness to other documented matches— a pool of candidates was completed in the time it took for him to take a long swig that burned his tongue and throat.

What came up was a compiled list of look-alikes that Tony had to manually rifle through in the hopes that one of them would be you and mentally grumbled to himself that you looked like too many people.

Tony grew more irked by the second up until the last result, which was your red carpet picture in front of his building. Tracking the source, he was led to a tabloids website and found that even the photographers had no idea who you were. Your picture was simply sourced as “guests attending a Stark party,” not counting the other woman with you in the image.

He realized that the whole thing was a waste of time. This is why he didn’t do the menial work himself: it was tedious and boring and he had nothing to show for it. Not even a name. You literally didn’t exist on any social media or content platform besides a useless picture just floating there on the internet.

Tony shot up from his chair to pace. He ran his hands through his hair, furiously muttering to himself.

“No social presence? No footprint— no… nothing?”

That’s…really smart, actually.

He hates it. And he hates to admit it, but…

But a small part of him respects you for it, too.

His head whipped back to the monitor glowing before him, patiently idling for a new order. Narrowing his eyes, the man marched back over to the console, furiously typing in a similar command. The process would take longer than he would like, but he was sure he would get his match.

“Who are you, sweetheart?” Tony mused distractedly to the image of your face on one of his monitors, hoping to find a sliver of treasure amidst a sea of coal.

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Entering the lobby of your workplace was as it always is: white tile textured with marbling stains, wood paneling hugging the walls, a white and gray reception desk overlooking the room. Folks came and went from your line of vision, entering and disappearing into elevators and corridors, the leftover sounds of their jabbering following close behind them in the air. Many workers held various brews of caffeine or small breakfast items as they passed by, which had your stomach growling despite already filling it before you left your apartment.

It takes you a more than the typical few minutes to get to your work floor, the elevator being unusually popular for a Monday. You ponder over it to pass the time as you stand there, entertaining the thought of someone important stopping by. When the elevator dings for your stop, you step out and shuffling over to your desk, providing a couple “hellos” and “good mornings” to the associates that greet you along the way. Settling down into your office chair, you boot up your computer as you place and arrange the belongings you fish out from your purse.

You look around the drab space as you wait for the desktop to appear so you can clock in. Your friend and coworker doesn’t seem to be here yet. You contemplate what (Friend name) got up into last night, if that is her reason for running late. Or rather, who she got with. You laugh to yourself as you drag your mouse over to bring up the company time clock, setting a mental reminder to ask her later when she shows up.

You click open the app used for business emails and you sigh softly at the unreads, sucking in a breath and sitting straighter.

Back to work as usual.

——————————————————————————————————

It was quite some time later before (Friend name) bounded into the office with a pep in her step. And despite prodding her with your curiosity, she was determined to only reveal anything at lunchtime, which was a couple hours away. She also wanted to discuss it inside the building today instead of the cafe, which caused you to raise a brow. She waved you off and you had shrugged. You tried to focus back on your work, but the suspense of her answer kept eating at you until then, where you realized you didn’t get much done at all.

Now, you were both seated in one corner of the break room, had your meals and drinks pulled out, and were ready to dig in. Your brain, however, couldn’t help but bring up the topic the moment you uncapped your takeaway salad and raised your plastic fork.

“How’d your night go? Did you have fun?” You question good-naturedly before shoveling some greens into your mouth.

“Yeah,” She sighs, unwrapping a granola bar. “But I didn’t stay the night.”

You pause, utensil and speared salad pieces hovering in mid-air, as you turn your head to look at her properly. She munches on the bar of oats sprinkled with fruit and nuts for a moment, catching stray crumbs at the corners of her lips and licking them off before elaborating. “Something came up and he had to take care of it, so we called it a night.” She pauses, looking at her snack thoughtfully and clearly reminiscing. “He was sorry enough to drop me off, though.”

“Oh,” you breathe, resuming the bite of your food and chewing it on one side of your mouth. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was.” (Friend name) trails off, releasing a dejected sigh. “So,” her mood shifts as she throws her hair over her shoulders and leans in toward you with vibrant green eyes sparkling of curiosity. “What did you get up to last night? Meet anyone interesting~?” You nervously smile at the sudden attention and shift in the topic, an awkward blush painting your face. You take a sip of your drink and clear your throat to gather your thoughts.

“No one special,” you shrug casually, collecting more lunch on your fork, “just some guy who was full of himself and calling me sweetheart.” There wasn't much to tell concerning the details, anyway.

Her nose wrinkles in distaste, responding with an “ew, gross.” You heartily laugh at her reaction as she shudders. She was never one for pet names like that— it reminds you of one person she dated, who never called her by her name and insisted on nicknames like that. Her features relax back into an easy smile, turning her attention back eating. “Well, I’m glad he didn’t get your number, then.”

As you look down at your lunch, a soft chuckle escapes you as you shake your head in agreement.

“Yeah, definitely not.”

——————————————————————————————————

Finally— finally— he struck gold.

Documented records of the institutions you attended in your life: really just schools and appointments, but it was something. Your yearbook photos helped, too. Only the newest information mattered, however, so he only took note of your most recent forms of contact to date.

It took a lot of outside the box thinking to get there, but that was what Tony Stark did best. He hopes you'll appreciate all the effort he took to go after you when you find yourself in his presence once more, enjoying his company and what his bed has to offer.

But first things first.

He rings up your number, already mouthing what he will say when he hears your voice. He’s more excited than he should be, but can’t find it in himself to care.

It keeps ringing.

He closes his eyes, imagining your expression when you find out it’s him— your lips curving into a smile as you start to say his name—

He gets the voicemail lady instead.

Confused, he sits there for a moment in silence before he tries again.

He’s greeted with a single ring before the same script plays. Did your phone die? Was it powered off? What was happening?

Furrowing his brows, Tony instructs his A.I. to deliver a message.

He compiles something short and flirty, just aiming to get your attention and to reel you in a bit. He sends it off, and almost immediately, the sophisticated, deadpan male voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. informs him that the message wasn't sent.

Okay.

You either blocked his number or your phone is off. Or it just sucks at texting for some reason.

The male purses his lips in thought. He needs to try a different approach, he supposed.

Going back to square one, Tony finds a piece of information that causes a playful smirk to slowly grow upon his face.

Well, he always did like a challenge.

——————————————————————————————————

“Something special just for you, (Name). —Your knight in rose-gold armor❤️💛”

That’s all the italicized note said.

The fancy slip of cardstock that was attached to the package on the floor wrapped in cellophane.

The gift sitting innocently in front of your apartment door when you arrived home from work.

Inspecting it as you bring it inside, the more confused and skeptical you get.

This…

You flipped the box over multiple times in the vain hope of finding a different answer or something new to go off of. It yielded nothing substantial, other than the fact that this was likely delivered to you from some kind of store that gift-wraps their products. Exactly who ordered this in the first place, however, is something you can’t determine. A sender’s address is nonexistent.

If this really was for you, then…

It was completely wrong.

Whoever sent this to you had no idea who you were because the assortment of chocolates had multiple flavors you didn’t care for, and would render the whole box a waste under your possession. There was only one specialty kind that you were willing to try, and even then it was filled with extra tastes that you didn’t really care for in your sweets.

You squinted at the packaging, trying to file through your memories, but you had never heard of this brand in your life.

Thankfully, the box did contain the reliable milk chocolate flavor, as well as darker coco and lighter milk and sugar versions as standalones. So, you figured, it would be a safe bet to sample that one first to see if their base for chocolate recipes were passable.

You hesitantly brought the confection to your lips and let it hover there, now wondering what kind of razor blades or poisonous concoctions were stuffed into this thing. But if someone wanted you dead, why would they make it this elaborate? Wouldn’t there have been some tell of any tampering before you opened it? Feeling ridiculous over your own thoughts, you bite the bullet. Pinching your eyes shut, you threw the piece of chocolate into your mouth.

You bit down, felt a more gooey substance ooze its way onto your tongue, and widened your eyes when the flavor hit you.

You immediately spat the thing out in the garbage can and raced over to your fridge for a palette cleanser. Snatching the first jug you saw, you drank directly from the container and realized too late that it was an acidic juice you picked out.

It paired worse than wine would, surely.

After most of the vile concoction was washed away from your taste buds, you smacked your lips and tried to process the lingering aftertaste.

Glaring at the offending box of chocolates, you took no time in propelling it towards the same bin where it belonged.

Forget figuring out where that came from.

You wouldn’t even give that to your worst enemy.

——————————————————————————————————

“You’ll thank me for this later, hun.” Tony mused to himself as he balanced the handle of a screwdriver in his mouth, putting the finishing touches on the camera in your studio-sized living room. As much as Tony wanted to cover the whole area of the unit itself, he knew not to overdo any more than he really needed to.

The man had no idea if the luxury chocolates he ordered went over well, and was itching to find out sooner rather than later. The very next day on a sunny mid-afternoon with a toolbox in tow, Tony visited your side of the city in his iron suit. He landed on the roof of your apartment, leaving the armor there as he climbed down the fire escape until he reached your level. He found an almost-closed window and had his A.I. scan for any lifeforms inside before he pushed the creaky wooden frame up and crawled through. And then Tony— after making sure you weren’t in another room and about to catch him— happened to glance down into your kitchen trash can. That hurt his feelings of course, but it fueled him to win your favor just the same. He only needed to get a sense of how you lived and what you liked, so he could woo you better when he revealed himself.

He hoped a woman like you enjoyed a mystery, because his work as Iron Man simply didn’t allow him to date you properly as he would’ve preferred— and he was too interested to simply forget about you. Even if he did manage to talk to you, a public relationship would be a no-go; the paparazzi alone would have you running for the hills. So, if you wouldn’t entertain digital communication with him, then virtually keeping tabs on you as your secret genius, billionaire, philanthropist, superhero admirer would have to do.

That was all.

Not because you were so elusive that it was driving him up the wall and he needed some reassurance grounding him that— yes, you did exist— and weren’t evading him on purpose or forgot him entirely.

No— he assured himself as he adjusted the device above him, not at all.

Besides, he got into your apartment too easily. The area you lived in was unruly, at best. And you needed protection. You could be snatched up out of thin air with no one the wiser as to your dissappearance. This way, even if he isn’t physically there for you or watching it happen back in his tower, he can at least use the footage from the cameras to gather the clues necessary to track you. Flying in as Iron Man, he’ll make the perpetrator sorry he even existed— break every bone of his that so much as touched you, and be your hero. And your relationship will blossom from there. Tony was doing you both a service by installing his tech in your apartment, if anything.

But what you didn’t know won’t hurt you.

While he was a genius, and was confident that his level of intelligence surpassed yours, he had no clue how perceptive you actually were. Installing too many surveillance cameras in your home would pose a risk to the subtlety of the operation he was trying to maintain, despite his desire to map every corner of your unit. Besides, more evidence of his work meant a higher probability of being discovered. Which meant a bigger chance for the devices to be knocked out of place and exposed to you later down the line. Even accidentally, Tony couldn’t have that.

Wiping his calloused hands on his jeans, the male assessed his additions to your apartment, triple-checking their installations and positioning. After making small adjustments here and there and test driving the feeds with his Stark phone, he was all set.

Tony’s troubleshooting finished with the last camera in your bedroom— and as he looked up, his eyes flitted over towards the ajar door leading out of the area he was standing in. Leaning forward with a squint to his eyes to peek through the crack yielded a wider expanse of the drab and cracked white tile, a mirror protruding from the wall, and various products cluttering the countertop of a sink directly under the hanging glass.

He sucked in a breath before spinning on his heel and marching right the fuck out of your bedroom.

No— he thought to himself. He would not be doing that.

It was one line he refused to cross.

—————————————��————————————————————

#moi writing #tony stark x reader #yandere tony stark #yandere tony stark x reader #mdb still taking over my brain as I wrote this LOL

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