#Also I really fucking like how to train your dragon

[the-halfling-prince]

Me: what I'm totally neurotypical idk what you're talking about-

The the little annoying voice inside my head that I argue with for fun: Remember that summer after eighth grade where you watched How to Train Your Dragon four times every single day for two months and by the time summer was over you could quote the entire goddamn movie by heart?

Me: what that didn't- This is Berk, it's twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. It is located solidly on the meridian of mis-

[shima-draws]

HELLO?? HTTYD AKA THE GREATEST FILM OF ALL TIME IS GETTING A LIVE ACTION REMAKE????

[raveartts]

[salamander-does-art]

Christening the new tablet with old reliable 🙌✨

[dizzybevvie]

I love you analysis I love you awareness of negative tropes I love you recognising that media isnt perfect I love you not being able to handle negativity I love you different interests I have different relationships with I love you the way that changes my perspective on criticism

[gaydryad]

oh also why are there So Many trade evolutions

[oneknightlight]

Something I did always like about Skyrim was the idea that dragons are intelligent and sentient. It’s a shame you have to kill them, granted it’s because they attack you, but I really like the way they’re written as though they can choose to hate people or side with people (Paarthurnax). It makes sense to me, I always thought it bizarre when works of fiction make out dragons to be big blundering beasts with no intellect. I can’t explain what makes me feel this way because I don’t study the science that I feel like has the answers for this but it just feels right that the giant reptilian creature, who looks as though it’s related to birds and dinosaurs in a way, with a large brain, and has managed to survive thousands of years, would be intellectual. At the very least, as smart as say a dog or cat or parrot.

[valeskafics]

"Black Christmas" - Modern Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: When you have to stay at your sorority house instead of going home for the holidays, you’re relieved to know that your quiet classmate, Aemond, is also staying back for the holidays. However, your relief soon turns to terror as you begin receiving some rather obscene phone calls… That when traced, are revealed to be coming from INSIDE the sorority house.

TW: HEAVY HEAVY DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, stalking, male masturbation, oral f receiving, fingering, overstim, choking, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex

Word Count: 3,000 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

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

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

When Aemond decided where to go to university, there was only one thing he considered.

Which school would be the farthest away from his family. And that’s why he chose Winterfell University. The other end of the continent, where his brother can’t bother him. And that’s where he meets you. While Aemond mainly keeps to himself, you are quite the opposite. Beautiful, kind, and intelligent, you manage to charm everyone you meet, himself included. You’re a member of Kappa Kappa Tau sorority and live in the house that they own on Greek Row. The dorm Aemond stays in is pretty close by, so he often sees you when walking to class. And he might have the tiniest bit of a crush on you.

Okay, that’s a slight bit of an understatement. Since the first time he saw you, back during freshman orientation, he’s been completely infatuated with you. Your paths don’t cross often at school, but when they do? You’re always so sweet to him, despite his reputation as the stuck-up, stand-offish loner who thinks he’s too good for anyone.

It’s the last day of classes before winter break and he sees you walking down the hallway, about to pass him by. He gazes after you, a bit longingly, taken aback when you turn to greet him with a smile, one that has his stomach tied in knots.

“Hey, Aemond.”

He nods slightly in greeting, leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingertips, “Hey.”

“You excited for break?”

Aemond shrugs, doing his best not to stare at the way those yoga pants cling to your ass, how he can just barely see the outline of your nipples through that shirt. Fuck, what if he just grabbed you here and now, went into one of the empty classrooms and-

“I’m stuck at Kappa house for break by myself,” you sigh, breaking his train of thought, “My plans for break fell through. You on campus or heading home?”

He has to do everything in his power not to grin like a madman at the revelation.

“On campus. I don’t really get along with my family, so I’d rather stay.”

You nod in understanding, “Yeah, I get that. Well, maybe we can hang out or something. No one should be alone on Christmas, after all.” You check your phone, eyes going wide when you see the time, “Fuck! I’m running late, see ya!”

Aemond watches you race down the hall toward your last final of the day. Valyrian Mythology. How does he know that? It’s not normal that he knows your schedule, he realizes, that he knows where you eat lunch every day, how you take your morning coffee, your favorite hang-outs around campus. Maybe his infatuation with you goes beyond the bounds of what’s considered healthy or normal, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he stares after you as you go, looking the way you do. You’re so fucking gorgeous, it makes him sick.

As Aemond walks toward his own final exam, a realization hits him.

You’re going to be alone. In that sorority house. All by yourself for the next two weeks.

If there was ever a time for him to make a move on you, it’s now. And so, he walks to the lecture hall, a spring in his step, as he starts planning.

You don’t end up getting back to Kappa until late that night, too busy saying goodbye to all of your friends, watching their cars leave one by one until it’s just you and a sprinkling of other students. You walk back into the house, lock the door, and head up to your room. But, just as you’re about to climb up the stairs, the house’s landline rings. You let out a groan of frustration, wondering who the hell is calling this late.

“Hello?” You frown when the person on the other end doesn’t respond, rather, they just breathe heavily into the phone. Your hands shake ever so slightly as you repeat, “H-hello?” And still, there is no answer. Just the sound of someone breathing. “Is anyone there?” 

Your eyes go wide as the voice lets out a low, shuddering moan, and you immediately slam the phone back on the receiver. What kind of jerk prank calls people in this day and age? You walk up the stairs, shaking your head in annoyance, but there’s a distinct feeling of discomfort too. You glance behind your back, as if checking to see if anyone is following you, before continuing up the stairs. You’re being crazy, there’s no one here except for you. You locked the doors, you checked the backyard. You’re alone. It’s just you in the house.

You head to your bedroom, giving a curious glance up at the entrance to the attic. It’s never bothered you before, living in the room that has the entrance, but tonight, for some reason, it gives you the creeps. You stare at it before shaking your head and walking toward your closet, getting changed into your nightgown. But as you do, there’s this nagging voice in the back of your mind, a sensation of being watched. You look in your underwear drawer for the matching underwear to the nightgown, wanting to spoil yourself a bit, but it isn’t there. You frown, chalking it up to forgetfulness, that maybe it’s still in the laundry. So, you pull out another pair and get into your bed, grabbing your phone and texting a few friends, trying to take your mind off of everything.

And it works, until this time, it’s your phone that goes off, with a call from an unknown number. You stare at your phone as it vibrates, letting it go to voicemail, only to let out a huff of frustration when whoever it is calls again, seemingly insistent on talking to you. You hear a creak coming from the attic and stare up at the ceiling. It’s an old house, it’s probably just the wood settling. Right?

You answer the phone, only to hear that same heavy breathing from before, that same moaning.

But this time? Your mystery caller speaks.

“I’m watching you.”

You freeze in place, “Excuse me?”

“Are you going to let me?”

You swallow thickly, your voice wavering as you question, “Let you what?”

“Are you going to let me lick that sweet little pussy of yours?” You gasp as the voice lets out a loud groan, making it quite obvious what they’re doing on the other end of the line, “Bet you taste so good, just let me lick it, hm?”

“Y-you’re a fucking creep!”

He laughs, his breath getting heavier and heavier as he rasps, “Just let me fuck that pretty little cunt with my tongue. You know you want it. You sound so cute when you’re afraid.”

“I’m going to call campus police on you,” you threaten, moving to lock your window, looking out to see if anyone is visible from it, “Quit messing with me, asshole!”

“You look so cute right now in that little nightgown. I bet you’re so wet for me now, aren’t you? Filthy little whore. You know you want this. You know you love the sound of my voice. And guess what, pretty girl?” He chuckles, “That little quiver in your voice, your sweet little whimpers? They’ve got me so fucking hard right now.”

You let out a whimper again in spite of yourself, covering your mouth as you question, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m just imagining how you’ll feel when I split you open on my cock.”

You hang up, tossing the phone away from you, and pull your blanket over your body. This is just some asshole trying to scare you. Maybe Jason from Sigma or Reese from Theta. Someone’s just messing with you. If they call again, you’ll call campus police and have it all taken care of. But right now, you’re going to get some sleep.

The minute your breathing gets deeper and he knows you’re asleep, Aemond makes his way down from the attic, not making a single sound. He gets off of the ladder and walks over to your bed, watching as you sleep soundly. He removes your blanket and Gods, you look so pretty like this, your tits nearly spilling out of your nightgown, how it’s ridden up to expose the flesh of your upper thighs and your ass. Aemond’s breathing grows ragged, his thoughts more and more twisted. Maybe he can just drag you up to the attic right now and keep you there with him forever. What kind of games the two of you could play, just you and him. His fingers trace along the flesh of your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He lifts your nightgown slightly, chuckling quietly at the sight of your frilly pink panties. He slides them down your legs, staring unabashedly at your bare cunt, wanting nothing more than to taste you, to bury his tongue inside of you until he has you squealing his name like a bitch in heat.

But, he has to be patient.

He undoes his belt and frees his cocks from the confines of his jeans, moving your pretty little panties along his cock, imagining he’s fucking you as he fucks his hand. Aemond stares down at you, moaning your name as he continues, his hand moving up and down his cock feverishly as he imagines what it’ll feel like when he finally does take you. You whine slightly in your sleep, the sound of his moaning almost enough to wake you. Aemond realizes he needs to be silent and grits his teeth as he cums in your panties, smirking to himself as he leaves them by your bed and makes his way back into the attic.

When you wake up and see not one but two pairs of your panties, stained with Seven knows what, laying beside you on your pillow, you let out a gasp of surprise. Aemond can hear your reaction to finding them, your fear and your disgust sending him into an almost feral state of desire. He can’t wait any longer. He has to have you and it has to be tonight. He dials your sorority house’s number once again, waiting for you to answer.

You walk out of the room on shaky legs and see that caller ID shows the number as blocked. It’s him, the same guy, you know it. So, instead of picking up, you call campus security, telling them all about the calls you’ve been getting. They’re short-staffed due to the holidays, but they say they’ll put a trace on the next call you get and call you back with more information after.

The phone goes off mere moments later and you pick up, “Hello?”

Aemond chuckles into the speaker, his voice sending a chill up and down your spine, “Did you like the present I left you, pretty girl? Gods, you looked adorable last night. My little kitten, all curled up in bed. It’s going to feel so good when I’m finally inside you.”

Your voice trembles as you do your best to keep him on the line for the requisite two minutes, “What did you do to my underwear, you creep?”

Aemond’s voice is a low rasp as he replies, chuckling under his breath, “Exactly what I’m going to do to you.” You stare at the phone in horror, listening as he continues, “You hanging up on me, kitten? Or does this excite you? Our little game. I think your pretty little pussy is soaking right now, just from the sound of my voice. Isn’t it, you little slut? I can hear you panting like a bitch in heat.”

Your jaw drops and you yell into the phone, “Leave me alone!”

You hang up and moments later, it rings again. Caller ID says it’s campus police, thankfully, and so you pick up, only for your blood to run cold at the officer’s words.

“Miss, you need to get out of there right now. The calls are coming from a cell phone we’ve triangulated to being inside Kappa house.”

You hang up, backing away slowly, walking up to your room, to quickly change and grab your bag. In retrospect? You should’ve just gone out the front door immediately. Because when you enter your room, you hear movement coming from the attic. You let out a cry of surprise, trying to block the door that leads up there.

But Aemond is not so easily deterred. He lets out a low growl and kicks the door open, staring at you as jumps down into your bedroom. His entire body buzzes with excitement, burns with desire, his thoughts growing darker and more depraved the longer he looks at you. Without even acknowledging him, you try to run, but he lunges at you, pinning you to the wall, his cock grinding against your ass.

“Mmm,” he moans against your ear, “Don’t fucking try that again.”

He turns you around to face him, grinning at the way you stare at him in horror, “Aemond…? But… You? Why…?”

“Why?” Aemond hisses, shoving you onto the bed, snarling, “Because you’re mine. And I’m ready to take what belongs to me. And you’re going to fucking like it.”

You try kicking him, but he’s too fast, too strong as he pins your legs down, pushing your thighs apart, eyeing your bare pussy with no little amount of greed. He hooks your thighs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him, burying his tongue deep inside you. You try to squirm away from him, but his hands just pull you closer, his gaze boring into you as he laps at your folds, your body betraying you with how your back arches off the bed, how wetness pools between your thighs. And Aemond knows it. He nuzzles his nose against your clit before moving his tongue in and out of you, holding your thighs apart, the wet noises coming from his lips making you cover your face with shame.

And when you spill yourself against him with a near wail of his name, all he does is flatten his tongue against your sensitive, swollen nub, moving against it eagerly, loving the way you writhe against him, one of his hands moving to stroke at your pussy. Your entire body quivers as he begins pumping one finger in and out of you, slow and steady, curving it so that the pad of it rubs up against your sweet spot. You let out a wanton cry of his name, your hands twisting in your hair as you give into the pleasure he’s giving you, his lips latching around your button, rolling his tongue along it over and over, adding a second finger and bringing you to your peak once more. 

Aemond sits up on his knees and continues fucking you with his fingers, listening as you whine and plead for him to go slower, which he has no intention of doing. Your pathetic little whimpers, your cries of his name, those little mewls, all of them spur him on as he adds a third finger, pumping them in and out of you at a nearly inhuman pace, rubbing against your sweet spot vigorously, loving the way your face twists in ecstasy.

He doesn’t care what he had to do to get to this point. What he had to do to terrorize you into giving into him. No, he doesn’t care about any of that as you spill yourself against his fingers, as he sheds his jeans and pushes inside you, listening to your soft little pants as he splits you open on his cock. You’re so wet and tight, just like he knew you would be, your walls squeezing him so perfectly as he ruts against you, his hand wrapping around your throat. He mouths at your tits over the silk fabric of your nightgown, while you just lay beneath him, gazing up at him with watery eyes which drive him mad with lust. He moves faster, his hips pistoning against yours at breakneck speed, the fat head of his cock slamming against that rough patch deep inside you with every thrust.

Aemond can tell you’re close, and so is he, as he moves his free hand to circle at your clit again, rubbing at you, knowing he has to speed this up before campus security gets here. He reaches his peak, spilling himself deep inside of you with a low groan, feeling your walls flutter around him, hearing you squeal his name as you reach your own end.

He stares down at you, a menacing yet somehow adoring look on his face as he demands, “You’re going to tell campus police it was just a little game you and your boyfriend were playing, kitten. You don’t want to piss me off, pretty girl. Because I can be much fucking meaner than I was just now. But if you make me happy? I’ll treat you like my little princess.”

So, you do as he asks, sending campus police away with an awkward smile, knowing that from their looks of amusement and your disheveled appearance that they believe every lie you speak.

But, the thing is, no one you’ve been with has ever made you feel like that before. And a part of you, a sick, twisted voice in the back of your mind tells you that in spite of everything, you want him. You want him badly. You feel Aemond press up against you from behind, his hands moving to grope at your tits, his face buried in your hair as he inhales your scent. You’re only somewhat taken by surprise when he shoves you up against the door, lifting your nightgown, pushing himself inside you again, his balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts into you over and over.

Well, that’s one way to celebrate the holidays.

[skekteksfurby]

I think that another thing about why I love the Guardians of Ga'Hoole movie so much (aside from how generally fucking awesome it is) is that it really hasn't aged visually?

This movie came out in 2010, and while I love a quite a few of the animated movies that came out around that time (How to Train Your Dragon, Tangled, Megamind, Shrek 4 and yes as much as it pains me I also used to be a huge Alpha and Omega fan), most of these movies if you compare them to CGI animation nowadays at least have aged a bit, some more than others (especially Tangled still holds up really well).

Then there's Ga'Hoole which looks like it could come out just any day nowadays and you probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Visually this movie has just barely aged compared to other animated films. The animation, designs, textures, particle effects, etc. are just still SO good. Quite a feat especially if you compare its budget to some of the other films I mentioned above (it's less than half of some of these others).

Anyways this movie rocks and I refuse to shut up about it.

[wondersinwaynemanor]

Duke's few weeks in the Manor

Damian: So, Thomas, how's the stay in the Manor? Staying with the rest of those juveniles - *sighs* with the rest of the family?

Duke, smiles brightly: It's been great. I like the training sessions and patrols, the movie nights -

Damian: So no regrets, nor second thoughts?

Duke: Of course not-

Tim passes by the room where Damian and Duke are talking.

Tim, furious: I swear to God, Jason!!! I'm burning all your books. Where the fu- where's my bo staff???

Jason: Aren't you supposed to be the smartest among us, Timbers? Find it yourself!!! And why the fuck do people keep blaming me in this house???

in a few seconds, Jason passes by also, one of his guns on his hand. he gives a peace sign to the direction of his youngest brothers, before disappearing from their sights.

Babs: No shouting in the house!!! And put that weapon away, Jason.

Babs passes by next, giving them a sweet smile, before she looks down on the tablet on her lap, loud sounds erupting from it.

Damian, raises his brow: You were saying, Thomas?

Duke: Oh yes. I said I'm not having any-

Steph enters the room with a bag of chips on her hand and some skincare cream on her face.

Steph: WHERE'S MY- Hey, kiddos! Don't mind me just *munches on a chip* 'inding for my lipstick- Oh, there it is!! And no, I'm not giving you any chips. Byeee!!

she leaves the room, loudly munching on her chips.

Damian, the corner of his mouth twitching to a smile: Yes, Thomas?

before Duke could respond, there was a light tap behind him.

Duke: What was that- OH MY GOSH! *touches his chest* Cass....

Cass, giggles, patting Duke's head lightly: Cute. Little brother.

before they know it, she's out the room.

Damian: As you can see-

Dick enters the room, smiling brightly when he sees his little brothers. he stands with his hands on the ground, landing infront of them.

Dick: Aww, what you youngsters up to huh? Up to no good, I bet?

Dick aims for Damian's cheeks. Damian lightly pushes his hands away, so Dick goes for Duke's cheeks, pinching them.

Dick, laughs: I guess I'll do it to the other Little D then.

before Duke can respond, there is a sound of breaking glass and Tim's more shouting.

Dick: Oops. Gotta check that out. You both stay out of trouble.

then Dick leaves them.

Damian, smiles lightly: What do you say Thomas, you want to visit the barn in the backyard?

Duke, grins: I would love that!

Damian: At least you have a normal sibling. I just saved you.

and Duke thinks that Damian is not quite normal, rather unique, with his pet dragon. they're all unique really.

but he wouldn't trade any of his sisters and brothers for anything or anybody in the world.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A promise kept

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 8

Prompt: Idiots to lovers

Rated: G

Tags: Childhood friends to lovers; Mistaken identity; Fluff; Modern AU if you squint

CW: none

Notes: @house-of-the-moving-image and I came up with this while bouncing ideas for another drabble and fell instantly in love with the idea. Be sure to also check out the precious art they made!!!

The bars of the jungle gym creak but Steve doesn’t lift his face from his hunched knees.

“Hey, big boy, don't cry.” 

“‘m not crying. Go away!”

This is ridiculous. He's almost eight, and eight-year-old boys don't cry. Not even if their only friend in the whole world just told them they're moving away to live with their uncle. 

They don't even know each other’s names. Names don't matter when you're eight and you're both at the park and looking for someone to play with. 

So Steve is big boy. 

And his friend … well, Steve mostly calls him his dragon.

It's because of this game they have. Steve is a king and the other boy his dragon and the jungle gym their castle, and every day, they have a new adventure. 

Except now, there won't be any more adventures.

“Oh? But how am I supposed to give you this?” 

Steve lifts his head, goes a bit cross-eyed at the flower that's hovering right in front of his face. 

“What would I want with that?” he snaps. “Flowers are for girls.” 

His dragon chuckles as he joins him on his perch. The playground stretches out under them. Their kingdom. 

“But this isn't just any flower. It's magical.” 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Magical?” 

“Yup!” His friend's face breaks into a grin, two teeth short. “As long as you keep it, I'll always make my way back to you. It may take a while, but I'll find you eventually.” 

“Promise?” Steve murmurs. There's a lump in his throat and it comes out small and quiet.

“I promise.” The other boy winks and tugs the flower behind his ear. “That I'll find you, and that I'll always be your dragon. And now, my king … how about one final adventure?” 

*

The colors of the jungle gym are faded with age. Like the pressed flower in its frame on his bedroom wall. 

“Oh hey, Steve!” 

Steve looks up from the book in his lap to find a familiar someone next to their picnic blanket.

“Eddie, hi!” He smiles, even as his stomach drops. “I … what are you doing here?” 

“Steve?” Will asks, ogling Eddie's tattoos and wild hair with large eyes. “Who's this?” 

“Oh, erm …” Steve runs an awkward hand through his hair. “My friend Eddie. He just moved here. Eddie, this is Will and El, the kids I babysit?” 

“Of course,” Eddie dips into a bow, which makes the twins giggle. “Steve has told me all about you.” 

“Do you want to sit with us?” El asks. “Steve is reading the How to train your dragon books to us.” 

“Fuck yeah, I love dragons!” Eddie cheers. Only he doesn’t sit on the blanket like a normal person - he perches himself on the steps of the jungle gym and hisses, pulling a silly face and mimicking claws with his hands. El whoops and claps while Will smiles shyly. Steve needs to swallow against the memories that threaten to crawl up his throat. 

*

“Was it alright to invite Eddie?” El asks. They've finished reading for the day and she helped Steve get snow cones. “You said he's your friend, but you seem sad when you look at him.”

Steve sighs.

“It's okay,” he says, because how do you explain this to a seven-year-old? 

How do you explain I only met him a few weeks ago but I really like him and it confuses me because it seems like I've known him forever because he reminds me so much of someone I used to know and I'm scared because it feels like I'm betraying that person even though I'm sure they've long forgotten about me?

Will is up on the jungle gym when they round the corner, beaming from ear to ear and talking animatedly with Eddie, who is gesturing up at him from the ground. 

“El!” he calls out when he spots his sister. She smiles and clambers up to join him, handing over one of the dripping snow cones. “Eddie has the best ideas. He just told me about this game he used to play as a kid. Did you know the jungle gym could be a castle and we could be kings and dragons? What do you want to be? We could-” 

“Steve?” 

Someone touches his shoulder and he flinches back into his own body. Eddie’s voice is full of concern, and okay, that's probably because he just dropped their snow cones. They're forming rainbow-colored puddles in the grass. 

“Stevie, c'mon, talk to me! You're freaking me out here!”

He snaps his head up. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Eddie smiles. His eyes are large with worry. Large and brown and crinkling at the corners and so familiar and Steve's an idiot. “You just zoned out there, I thought-” 

“It's you,” Steve mutters. His hands are shaking and his eyes are stinging and then the next thing he knows is that his arms are around Eddie’s neck and he's sobbing into his shoulder. “Holy fuck, it's really you! You're my dragon!” 

“Wait, what?” Eddie pulls back, smile wide and incredulous. His fingers wipe away Steve’s tears, trace the shape of his cheekbones and jaw. “You're- Shit, really? I knew you looked familiar, but I thought there was no way-” 

“I was feeling so bad!” Steve blurts, chest heaving with what might be sobs or laughter, and who cares really, when he found his dragon again? “I was so scared to fall for you because-” 

“Oh?” Eddie’s grin isn't missing any teeth, but it's still just as brilliant. “Are you now?” 

“Huh?” 

Eddie chuckles. “Falling for me?” 

Steve feels himself flush, even as he gives a shaky nod. Eddie’s eyes are soft as he pulls him in. 

“It's okay, big boy. You don't have to be afraid of anything while I'm around.”

“This is really weird,” El whispers from somewhere above them as their lips meet. “I don't think they understand how being friends works.”

All my holiday drabbles

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Stake Out (18+)

2003!Leonardo x reader

A/N: I know SuperQuest is in the BTTS season, but I couldn’t help myself.

----------------------------

You and Leo are still frustrated after having been interrupted a few hours earlier. So you decide to use this stake out to your advantage.

Warnings: Public sex, face fucking, rooftop sex, Leo trying to focus.

All characters are aged up.

----------------------------

The night stretched endlessly over the city, like a dome of inky blackness adorned with the glimmering jewels of stars. The distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren created a white noise that surrounded you, but in the stillness of the night, it was as if time itself held its breath. High above the bustling streets, Leonardo and you crouched silently on a familiar rooftop, your eyes trained on the rhythmic heartbeat of the city below. Or on a certain warehouse to be specific. A warehouse owned by members of the Purple Dragons.

A few hours before you and Leonardo had started your stake out, Donatello had managed to get information that Hun was waiting for a delivery. What delivery he did not know, but Hun had seemed stressed over his messages, leading Donatello to believe it must be important.

But it was what you and Leo were doing before Donnie called out of the leader in blue, that stayed in your mind, taunting you as time went on. Making out on his futon bed with his three fingered hand down your pants. He was just about to reach your core when Donnie started yelling about a delivery to the Purple Dragons.

So there you were several hours later, on a rooftop with your ninja boyfriend, still incredibly turned on from your heated make out session in his bedroom. But your boyfriend didn’t show any signs of frustration. His keen eyes were scanning the street below, analyzing every moment.

As the night deepened, so did the unspoken desires that simmered beneath the surface of your skin. You sighed in frustration as your mind started wondering what could have happened, if you and Leo hadn’t been interrupted. How Leo most likely would have fingered you, while telling you to keep quiet with his family just outside his bedroom, in the big open living area. Leonardo knew that sigh of frustration. It was one he had heard many times, during the countless nights he had teased you near the point of begging. Leo’s usually reserved demeanor softened under the celestial gaze, his attention drifting more towards you instead of the warehouse.

The subtle shift did not escape your notice. A mischievous smile crept up on your face. Leo also knew that smile. He knew it way too well. And whenever he saw that smile, he usually loved what came along with it. You and your dirty ideas never seized to amaze him. But as much as he wanted to give in, and do whatever you had thought of doing on that roof, he had to stay focused. He was on a stack out, a mission.

But as you crawled towards him, and placed your lips on his with a passionate kiss, Leo’s focus had to fight against the burning desire that had builded in him for several hours. He broke the kiss to look you in the eyes, surprised that he already was out of air.

“You know I want to, (Y/N). I really fucking want to, but I have to keep an eye out. They said Hun would get a delivery tonight”, Leonardo said slightly breathless, nodding towards the warehouse on the other side of the street.

“Who said you had to look away?”, you asked innocently. Leo looked at you in confusion, but as soon as you started to tie your hair back, he caught on. He got comfortable on the roof, making sure he still had a full view of the warehouse, while being covered by the shadows. You got down low, your face mere centimeters from his slightly pulsing cloaca. Leo was biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze flickered between you and the street below.

Leo’s grip on the roof edge tightened as you started licking around his cloaca. As you looked up you saw his mouth fall open, letting out a silent moan. You continued licking, deciding that this was the way you would make him drop. Teasing him like he had teased you so many times before.

Leo chuckled, biting his lips and shook his head slightly, eyes still on the warehouse. “You little tease”, he breathed out, one hand finding your head, stroking your head with his fingers.

As you continued licking around his cloaca, you started working on the buttons of your pants, struggling a little before pushing them down your legs. Leo caught himself staring at you in your blue underwear, thinking of what he would have done to you in his bedroom if he had seen them there. He mentally slapped himself before looking back to the warehouse, only to gasp as he felt himself drop into your mouth. The cold air around his pulsing erection taunted him, as you sat up to take your hoodie and t-shirt off, leaving you in a black bra. Leo wanted to strangle Hun. Had he not decided to get a delivery that day, Leo would have had you begging in his bed wearing that bra several hours ago.

Leo felt your warm tongue glide up his shaft, making his vision blurry for a short moment. He looked down just in time to see you take his head into your beautiful mouth, your eyes shining innocently at him. Innocent, as if you weren’t sucking and licking his dick on the rooftop of New York City, just opposite a Purple Dragon's hideout.

You took him all the way into your mouth, gaging slightly as he hit the back of your throat. How Leo fucking loved the feeling of you gagging on his dick.

While still keeping half an eye on the warehouse, Leo took your hair into his fist, before raising your head and his hip ever so slightly. You relaxed your throat, knowing full well what was about to happen. With small rapid thrusts, Leo started fucking your mouth, still deviding his attention between you and the street. Both of you knew that had this been happening in his bedroom, he would not be holding back at all. Just simply telling you to be a good girl and keep quiet.

You grasped for air as Leo pulled his now soaked dick out of your mouth, enjoying the sound of your heavy breathing as he gave himself a few tugs.

“On your back”, Leo breathed out, getting up on his knees as you laid down, keeping an eye on the still quiet warehouse.

Using your hoodie and pants as a pillow, you got comfortable on the ground, opening your legs wide enough for your turtle boyfriend to position himself between them.

With one arm of the roof edge, Leo held himself up high enough, not letting the warehouse out of sight. The other hand went to his shaft, giving it a few tugs before gliding his head between your wet folds, feeling you jolt slightly as he pressed against your clit.

Leo looked down for a few seconds, making sure he was aligning up with your entrance properly, catching a quick glance at your eyes. Pupils just as blown out as his, your lips parted, watching his every move with anticipation. There was no doubt in Leo’s mind. Once this stake out was done, he would take care of you probably in his own room.

Leo fought to keep his eyes open as he pressed into you. His mouth slightly open, letting out a low groan at the feeling of you around him. The hand he had used to position himself, was now on your hip, keeping you in place as he slowly made his way in, making sure you took him as far as you could.

Once he had made it all the way in, he settled for a moment, making sure you had adjusted to his size before he started moving. You started whimpering, even at his smallest movements, prompting Leo to place his hand over your mouth, gradually speeding up his movements.

You moaned into his hand, holding onto his arm to keep yourself grounded as your mind started fogging up in pleasure. Your breast bouncing inside of your bra, the small sight of it almost making Leo go wild.

As Leo’s thrust became faster, his eyes would flicker between you and the ever quiet warehouse on the other side of the street. He managed to catch a glimpse of your hand sliding down to your clit, rubbing yourself as he continued to thrust himself into you. He breathed out a curse, closing his eyes for a few seconds, before looking back down on the street. Still nothing. How badly Leo wanted to give up on that warehouse so he could focus on the feeling of your cunt, squeezing his cock tighter as your fingers started to move faster against yourself.

As Leo felt his climax slowly reaching, his thrust became more and more erratic. The was something deeply exciting about fucking you on the rooftop, knowing that the Purple Dragons could find the two of you if you were a bit louder. It did unexpected things to Leonardo’s head, just like the feeling of your walls closing further around him, letting him know that you too were about to cum.

“That’s it, baby”, Leo mumbled, keeping a weak eye on the goddamn warehouse. “Cum for me, (Y/N)”.

And that was all it took for you before you came hard around his dick, fighting to keep quiet. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend was the most talented person you had been with in bed, you would have been embarrassed.

It didn’t take long before Leo came too. His hips shuttering and he let his streaks flow inside you, one by one, riding out both of your highs, enjoying the warmth you provided him.

He pulled out and moved to the side, careful as to not be seen by the people on the other side of the street, when his t-phone gave a little notification. He looked at it, while you started putting your clothes back on.

“You gotta be joking”, Leonardo mumbled irritatedly as he read the text on the small screen in his hand.

“What is it?”, you asked.

“Hun’s delivery was just the newest copy of SuperQuest and it got canceled”, he growled frustrated. But as soon as Leo had said those words, a smile started creeping up on his lips, all frustration disappearing. “You know what this means right?” He took your face in his hands, bringing it close to him, making you giggle. You had a feeling you knew what he was talking about. “I can do this all over with you again in the lair, and this time be able to watch you”.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”, you asked with a teasing smile. “Hun could be up to something else”.

“Hun can go and fuck the Admin Wizard for all I care”, Leo said, getting himself ready to leave. “Now, get your clothes on so I can take it off of you again when we get home”.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

*steps on stage nervously*

Uhh.. umm. Uhhhhh

Spidey Academy AU!!

Like Xavier's School for Gifted Children, Miguel - a Spider-person fond of kids, opened a Spidey-Science Academy, for the Spidey-people of the universe

It's not like a high school. There's five years and the years are not really sorted by age - but by experience.

So Hobie would be a year 3 - a middleclass-man

Pavitr is a year 1 - a freshman

And the classes, are all based on honing your Spider-powers and senses.

There's assignments, things you have to take home and do.

They're give you a fake evil Doc Ock chip and have you decode it and make it good again (like Peter in No Way Home).

Or they ask you to stop a petty robbery without using your webs. You have to bring in the Daily Bugles article on you the next day and they grade you on that.

(Hey say what you want but Jonah reports the facts he just talks a lot of shit)

Any class a Spider-person needs, they have.

You name it-

Home Ec? No. Sewing and Suit Repair Class

Gym? No. Swinging & Strength Endurance

Science? ALL ADVANCED. Freshmen's take Advanced Spider-biology and have to learn ALL the different Spider-variations and illnesses Spider-people can get. Multiversal Physics.

All of the honor classes are FULL.

There's also other helpful ones like Firefighting Training and Sign Language (both mandatory), hence how Insomniac!Miles is completely fluent in ASL.

Oh - also. Because Miguel is such a tight-ass -

UNIFORMS. Sweater vests over pants or shorts. (No skirts cause they still be upsidedown and shit)

You have to bring your mask everyday. It's like your ID card

y'all ever had that? Like y'all needed an ID to get into school and if you didn't have it they charged you? Like money? My school did that we also had metal detectors like the airport I'm so deadass this was just a normal public school - I'm getting distracted, anyway-

Of COURSE Ms.Jessica Drew is Assistant Principal. OF COURSE she also teaches Advanced Combat and Strategies class.

And YES she's a hard-ass grader. Has never given a 100% in her life. On some 'This was the best thing I've read in my entire teaching career but you forgot to indent on paragraph 5 so 99%'

She doesn't give a fuck about your GPA!!!

Unlike Mr.Peter B. Parker.

He makes people call him 'Professor PB'. He wants to be the cool teacher.

His classroom is SO FUN during lunch time. Probably runs the anime and manga club. He's that really nerdy teacher that you don't expect to be like "I know what anime is! I grew up on Dragon Ball 😁

His class are always fun but SO chaotic. Still wears sweatpants sometimes. He's the Science teacher.

And every year they take class photos and there's a Spidey homecoming where everyone parties on the walls in cute outfits.

CAN YOU SEE IT?

Swinging Team instead of Track and Field???

CAN YOU IMAGINE IT?

MIGUEL AS PRINCIPAL???

LYLA BEING THE LOUD SPEAKER ANNOUNCER?

[majosullivan]

Castle Swimmer Dashboard Simulator

🪸 classycoral Follow

If there’s one thing that I’ve learnt while traveling the sea, it’s that prophecies can really range from being the silliest of tales to the most horrific things you will ever of having the dismay of laying your eyes on

🪸 classycoral Follow

Like I’ll visit one castle and their prophecy will be ‘It’s been destined that the beacon will use this frog to predict the future so we can prepare for it :)’ and then the next castle I visit will have a prophecy like ‘It is been foretold from centuries past that the beacon shall arrive and save us from a plague that has been taunting us since ancient time. Through sacrifical ritual, they shall free us from this torment’

#like who is coming up with these #are you guys doing okay???

154,879 notes

💧 oceaneyes Follow

I heard there’s hot singles at the bottom of the God Mouth

⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow

out of the way boys I’m about to GET IT

⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow

got trapped in unending darkness surrounded by voices

9,264 notes

🪷 through-the-reef Follow

I’m currently traveling through the Purple Peaks and it’s absolutely gorgeous here! I have no idea why there seems to be so few people living here, it seems wonderful!

🪷 through-the-reef Follow

GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB-

13,521 notes

✨ give-that-axolotl-a-knife Follow

Does anyone else feel like the surface god is just toying with you how they please. They think they’re so funny. Well I’m about to be hilarious

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

this feels so threatening, are you doing okay op?

24,957 notes

🌊 squids Follow

Being alive is so wonderful because there is so many beautiful places in the ocean you can explore and so many fascinating creatures you can see. However there are also the unending horrors

6,496 notes

🖼️ ocean-landscapes Follow

The Blue Hills

832 notes

💰 needling-on Follow

GUYS I MIGHT BE GOING INSANE BUT I’M CURRENTLY OUTSIDE TRAINING AND I SWEAR I JUST SAW ONE OF THE RULERS AT MY CASTLE GO FLYING OUT THE CASTLE WINDOW

💰 needling-on Follow

NOT INSANE, A GROUP OF HIS PEOPLE JUST CAME SWIMMING OUT CALLING AFTER HIM, OH MY GOD I CAN’T BREATH

💰 needling-on Follow

UPDATE: THEY’RE COMING BACK WITH HIM NOW AND HE MUST HAVE FALLEN INTO A SCHOOL OF PRETTY VICIOUS FISH CAUSE HE’S COVERED IN BITE MARKS AND THERE’S STILL ONE BITING HIM. I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO CRACK A RIB

284,047 notes

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

Alright guys which mini god from the ones y’all know about do you think you could take

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

Blocked blocked blocked. None of you are seeing the light of the surface

69,638 notes

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

Life is so fucking unfair cause kelp dragons are SO beautiful and magnificent and enchanting and I would do ANYTHING to get up close to or even pet one, but the moment one would see me they would immediately try to swallow me whole like a shrimp

#they’re so pretty and for what #AND FOR WHAT?! #I just want to give them a little kiss on top of your head… #is that too much to ask?

2,749 notes

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

THE BEACON IS TWENTY???

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

THEY SHOULD BE AT THE CLUB…

💧 oceanxeyes Follow

h

HUH?

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

I’m sorry, the beacon is WHAT?

🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow

🪸 classycoral Follow

No because like my castle’s prophecy is nearing 200 years old and I’ve met a ton of people whose prophecies are over twice that age. How in the name of the Surface God are they only 20?

🌱 seaweed-brains Follow

Okay this post just unlocked some long dormant memories in my brain and if I don’t talk about it with someone outside my castle I think I’ll lose my mind so you guys better be sitting down.

For some context: until around 7-8 years ago, my people were under almost constant threat of these giant sea snakes because they had unknowingly killed the head of their den. Savage things. Would take any opportunity to attack us. We couldn’t even find a new castle cause they would follow us everywhere. Because of all this, our elders ended up creating a prophecy, which stated that the Beacon would eat the carcass of the head snake, causing the rest of the sea snakes to leave us alone.

So when I was like 13, the Beacon had arrived at our castle to fulfil our prophecy, and as you can expect, we were all very excited and I remember trying to get to the front of the crowd as fast as possible to see them. They were like nothing I have ever seen before and have seen since, we all were in complete awe of them. However, the thing about them that ended up surprising me the most was that they were young. Like, pretty damn young. They looked a little younger than me. So while our monarch quickly went to make sure all the preparations were complete, they entrusted my parents with making sure the Beacon was comfortable, giving my family the opportunity to have small chat with them. Curiousity getting the better of me, I asked how old they were. 13. They said they’re 13 years old. They were MY age. I didn’t know what to do at that point and basically throughout the entire time our prophecy was being completed, my mind was just stuck thinking about if I was destined to eat that giant smelly snake

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

Ex

EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME???

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

I need a whole day to fully process that prophecy alone what in the actual fuck

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

Did…

…did they eat the snake carcass?

🌱 seaweed-brains Follow

THE WHOLE THING…

🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow

🪸 classycoral Follow

and people still think I was exaggerating about how wild prophecies are. How in the entire sea does being attacked by sea snakes lead to the Beacon needing to eat a giant carcass? Who is coming up with these solutions? Show me their workings

💧 oceanxeyes Follow

The Beacon arriving at another castle to help people fulfil their prophecy, only to find that it’s another one written by freaks:

🐚 sandyshells Follow

t

th

…the beacon is real?

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

HELLO?

🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow

Sandy get back here right now what do u MEAN you didn’t know the Beacon was real???

🐚 sandyshells Follow

MY PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS SAID THE BEACON WAS JUST PART OF ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY…we were always told growing up that prophecies and the lot were just stories and such. You’re telling me that there’s actually a divine being going around helping people by eating snakes and stuff???

🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow

Y E A H

🐚 sandyshells Follow

WHAT THE HELL

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

This whole post is a mess holy shit

498,690 notes

[themotherofblood]

I saw you opened your requests again, so to finish off my series of requests inspired by Bollywood songs, can I please get Daemon x poc fem reader inspired by "Laal ishq" with lots of angst and nsfw please? (feel free to ignore)

you asked and I shall deliver!! I love the song, even though it’s melancholic. So to go with the theme of estranged lovers. Reader and Daemon have been friends for years, that eventually blossomed to love. Daemon is being forced to marry Rhea. There is no age gap since both have grown up together (also a really disgusting twist, fuck Jaeheryes!) THERE IS A PART TWO WITH SMUT I PROMISE!

Daemon Targaryen x Reader | WC: 5003

Masterlist

tw: mentions of incest, pregnant people and crass language

Daemon’s blood boiled anew since he was knighted the year before and was handed his ancestral sword. Dark Sister. He flew Caraxes faster, he trained harder. While one-half of his time was spent being a more valiant warrior than he already was, the other half was spent with you. Head in your lap, as he fawned on your beauty over and over again. It wasn’t right, you were a noble lady - a princess at that; you were to be chaste and untouched. Yet the walls of the Red Keep often turned a blind eye to your and Daemon’s ongoings. Everyone expected it so, seeming how Daemon always got what he wanted. The court expected that you would be wed to the young prince before Baelon would sit on the throne.

The door to the Godswood slammed open with a thud, and gruff sounds of huffing followed by clanks of armour filled your ears as you smiled to yourself. Almost enjoying every time your lover, pouting and broody demanded your affection after a long day of being consumed with his knighthood. You looked up to find Daemon placing his helm on the wooden table of refreshments before yanking out a leather flask of Flea Bottom’s finest moonshine, growling from the back of his mouth as the burn coated his sore throat. He huffed before plopping down next to you. The stench of mud and sweat filled your nostrils, much used to the muck as you kept working on your embroidery. Lip tucked between your lips as you passed a red string through the fresh patch of linen.

Daemon’s demeanour shifted, without having said a word as his attention was drawn to your nibbled fingers working over the delicate patches of thread. The designs of a story rather than the simple florals most ladies wore at court.

“Who bested you this time?” your voice caught his attention, your eyes still fixated on your work and yet the frustrations bubbling within him were apparent. Daemon narrowed his eyes at you before taking three large swigs from his flask.

“No one, every one of them has tasted dirt by my hands today,” he quickly replied, his mind toiling with a different malady altogether, like a plague. Clinging to the crevices of his head. How does one ask a lady such a thing?

“Then what’s got you pouting today?” you mused at him, this time placing the cloak down and turning to look at his defensive expression. His faded brows pulled to a tight-knit and his mouth parted with no words dancing over his lip. You raised your brow at him, knowing him far better than he realised.

Back in the yards, young lords with Daemon sparred away their mornings. Determined and raging as they charged at one another or dummies. Sparking conversations of bloody war fantasies and of comely girls at court. Out of the few closest to Daemon, five were already married - even his brother. Not that the notion of marriage had him praying like the fanatics at the Sept but even as stories of Old Valyria painted his dreams. He pictured his sweet lover, you in the grab of his house. Muttering words of Valyrian as his love for you would be legitimised by the eyes of dragons and the Fourteen Flames. Perhaps as his own sister-by-law, Aemma swelled full of her first child. He pictured little white-haired children of his own, perhaps enough to put his grandsire’s abilities to shame.

Daemon was sure if he would bring the matter up with his father. That perhaps his Jahereys would offer his hand to your father. There was much to be gained politically, and he would soil the sheets with his blood to cover for the lack of your maidenhead. The plans in his mind were crystal, already insistent of you becoming his lady wife. Though it was a matter of if you’d wish it so, or if your family would approve it.

“I- I asked father to have your hand in marriage,” he replied in one quick breath, his ears ringing from the silence that followed. A blank expression that spread through your features didn’t help his turmoil either as he waited for you to say something or refused him outright. “Fuck’s sake, say something?” he frowned, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you.

The words wouldn’t reach your lips as you blankly stared him down, blinking profusely back to reality as his worry turned into disappointment. You straightened yourself, folding away the cloak on your lap before gently laying in on the grass, your chest pushing against your corset from how hard you were breathing. Abruptly, you launched yourself at him, knees catching at your gown uncomfortably that you didn’t care for as you straddled his lap to kiss him. There was a fire in how your lips connected, Daemon was truly taken aback for a moment before chuckling and giving into the onslaught, hands caressing each other’s cheeks. You rested your forehead against Daemon’s, “You want this? Marriage?” you had to ask to be sure, that perhaps this wasn’t another one of his spurts of passion.

He nodded “Would you? Be my lady wife?” his eyes, wider than the Septa’s when she heard crass remarks. Bursts of anticipation flooded Daemon’s heart. You would be his, to have and to hold. The colours of his house staining the mustard silks adorning your skin, there would be no reason to conceal such ardour for one another, a flame concealed by forbidding it air. Young souls afraid of its fire would see all but the world, perhaps diminished before it could swallow you whole. The embers would finally take flight, burn anyone who would question Daemon’s affections for you. It was way past time that the two of you should have been wed, every lord was afraid of approaching you from the fear of being eaten by Caraxes, and the ladies stood ten breaths away from the fear of being poisoned by you.

You, a Princess of House Martell, Darmon a Prince of House Targaryen and yet your names for one another held not houses or titles but otherworldly, cosmic - cathartic titles ones of adoration and the rest, not High Valyrian, Ryonish or the Common Tongue could describe. Oftentimes than not it felt unreal, fabricated that perhaps it was the joy of having another, the thrill of breaking statues or perhaps it was finally a sense of home. You saw him for who he was and he, you, not within the wild inclinations but perhaps the calm hidden behind the mirror.

The elation of your supposed oncoming betrothal spread cheek to cheek, the corners of your eyes crinkling (even be fair to say teary-eyed) yet you purse your lips. Still lingering on the question on Daemon’s lips, it was yes - such agreement you could scream your throat sore from Rhaenys Hill - mischief however clouded your mind as you pulled back from him, scrunching your brows in deep thought. A look of offence adorned Daemon’s sharp features; a minx through and through. “Fly a piece of the moon back to me and I shall think about it,” a mere jest, followed by a giggle to seal the line. Daemon’s eyes flickered with another opportunity but for now his work was done.

The tunnels in the Red Keep had stood witness to the damning celebrations that followed after, sneaking baskets of blankets, spiced wines, lemons, and plum cakes being carried from the kitchens to your solar. Even if you were caught, there wasn’t a fret or consequence. You were to be married. Far too intoxicated to do anything by the end of the night, as the vulgarities whispered by Daemon against your ear as his fingers rested against your blushed lips, feeding you pieces of purple grapes to muffle the deep bellied giggles pouring out of your mouth.

The morrow bloomed in with you sprawled atop furs by the dying embers of the hearth, skin sticky from no doubt the sweets consumed last night as your chambermaids poured in to tidy your chamber and you make princess-like once more for the respectable court. Though comely and courteous charm oozed out of your every pour, you let out dishevelled groans and grumbles as you pulled yourself awake. Finding an indent in the furs where your lover had nestled with you the night before and now he fluttered away like every morning. Pristinely dressed in your riding clothes, your schedule today consisted of visiting Lady Aemma, avoiding the snarky air headed ladies and court and paying your precious steed and visiting the Kingswood.

Aemma Arryn, already swelling from her first babe, wore her discomfort with much grace. Hoping to birth a boy for Viserys but in her heart she knew the babe to be a bumbling girl. “I’ve heard something about you… and Daemon,” her lips curled in a sly smile. Yet you being devoid of romantical theatrics, heat still evaded your composure and flared across your cheeks. You shuffled onto the chaise next to her, giggling as you hesitantly held your arm out. She meekly nodded at your gesture, grabbing your palm to place over the bump, the skin firm yet softer under your touch. Living with dragons mere breaths away from you and yet an entire person being inside your friend fascinated you, perhaps such would be your fate without the lemon heads in your environs while engaging in the salacious acts with Daemon.

Your eyes crinkled at the corners, much aware of what Aemma had heard - from Viserys no doubt - the older Targaryen brother hid not one thing from his sweet wife. Both brothers were highly hen pecked by the women they took as lovers. “What could you have possibly heard, I swear I poisoned no one,” your lips curled to a wry grin making her tap your thigh mischievously with her foot. You pulled them onto your lap, kneading your fingers into the mass of her foot, alleviating pressure from her overbearing weight.

“Viserys overheard Prince Baelon talking with the King… Can you imagine us, sisters!” her smile widened cheek to cheek, already pictured dressing you in ivory herself like you did her.

“Whatever you have done to my brother, I applaud you,” Viserys’s voice chimed from behind you, leaning against the door frame, admiring his glowing wife with a graceful smirk on his face “The Street of Silk shall mourn his absence,” he teased making Aemma glare at his antics

“Do not listen to him,” she scoffed, “Have you told anyone yet?” You shook your head, wanting to keep this joy just between the people you trusted the most before the vultures found a way to make profit of such an event yet again.

“Do you know where he is?” you turned to Viserys who pointed out the window to the skies.

The air crashing against your skin as your hair followed free of its braided constraints, purple leather hugged your skin, shielding you from the chill of this day’s climate. The trees mere green shadows in your periphery blend all as one, just your own breathing echoing in your ears and the quicked hoof beats of your night black mare Nysa. While she couldn’t fly, her legs were no less than being afloat in the clouds, brushing past the dirt road at speeds incomparable to the naked eye. She neighed at a halt, right at the end of the meadow. The greenery reached as far as your eyes could see, you lingered in the quiet for a moment, the bird, the grasshoppers and even the leaves melodically sang a song for your ears.

The winds tore past the stink of the bustling livelihood of King’s Landing, amidst the rain that was sure to follow within the end of the week, the forest smelled of leaves, of warmth and damp. You shuffled off your horse, your own personal guard no doubt still catching up to the rampage that tore you through the thick tree lines. Deep breaths of fresh air flooded your lungs, you often dreamed of riding all the way home, to bask in the crisp sunshine at the Old Palace.

You walked holding onto Nysa’s reigns, finding a spot to sit with your legs over the rocks looking down into the ditch, while your marriage would bring forth much joy in your life. Perhaps a blissful life at Dragonstone, a cat, Caraxes and him. Mostly you’d enjoy being a royal lady-wife, perhaps it would make the ladies at court fear you more than a poisoning, Dornishmen - salacious varmints.

Higher above from where you were sitting, Daemon flew past the clouds, higher every moment. A feat encouraged by your jest but in reality a grace question, why hadn’t the Targaryens ever touched the moon? The dim witted Septons nor the droll Maesters had an answer for it. He took matters in his own hands, clipped to Caraxes as he rode the Red Wyrm to newer heights. The air around him was much colder and yet he kept climbing. Taking in large gasps of breaths, however lungs simply couldn’t get enough. A piece of the moon - he could do that much for his sweetest wife to be, a wedding gift better than any silk gown or golden necklace. What completely overshadowed the struggling mount underneath him was you. Caraxes fought to climb, the sky growing a deeper shade of blue, as Daemon’s mind fantasised his way through the journey; the lack of air in his lungs slipped right past.

Knocking him unconscious first, Caraxes yet climbed heights above than before until he realised Daemon slumped backwards on his saddle; severing any control the prince had on his dragon moments before. Such exhaustion consumed the Red Wyrm too, while still within his prime his wings tucked tight as he fell from the skies like the stories of angels the High Septon preaches.

The striking red of the dragon’s body clashed against the bright and clear skies that graced King’s Landing today. Just as you lounged at the edge of the meadow, a falling red figure wasn’t hard to miss. You stood to your feet immediately, fascinated at what it might have been. The Blood Comet in the scrolls wasn’t due for another decade or two. Only instead of gliding across the horizon of the sky, it grew bigger by the moment; until you saw the flutter (no book said anything about fluttering rocks falling from skies above). The dark membranes outline the red made you gasp “Oh gods,” this had been either a sick thrill Daemon had decided to partake in or he was truly falling from the heavens.

You mounted Nysa, rushing towards the falling figure from the skies. While to others the moment seemed fleeting but it felt ages as you neared the falling dragon. Caraxes spread his wings, in desperate attempts to halt the descent as he gained consciousness. Daemon, still attached to his saddle but nowhere near coherency. A loud crash accompanied a mushroom cloud of dirt blasting through the woods, Nysa nearly throwing you off her back as she neighed, startled to shit. You jumped off her, your personal guard merely catching you in time as Ser Alysen gripped your arms. Warning you of the dragon that laid huffing and curled, he would eat you, he would eat you.

You screamed from the back of your throat, pushing Alysen off your back and rushing towards Caraxes. “Do not fucking eat me,” your mind toiled, yet you had to know if your lover was alive or if you were widowed before you even had the chance to step on the alter. The red dragon’s nostril flared, low bellied chirps echoing through the settling dust, please - let me see him. You weren’t sure how you would fight a creature four times your size but perhaps his bigger mind sensed your harmlessness, putting up no protest as you pulled yourself onto Daemon’s saddle, him still slouched, breathing.

“Daemon, Daemon wake up,” you cupped his cheeks. Shaking him profusely, the behemoth he was growing into. You couldn’t carry him off the dragon even if you wanted to. “Come on now, wake up!”

Most of King’s Landing already witnessed a mythical creature falling from the heavens. Half of them ran for the Grand Sept, howling of the end times and the people in the Keep knew it to be Daemon. Within minutes more riders arrived with aid, the others contemplating the possibility of an attack. They found you on top of the Red Wyrm. Distraught and holding the young prince’s body hugged onto you, getting him off the mount proved a far harder challenge than anything the Stranger would ever test them to. A crying princess and an unwilling dragon.

You had raced behind the wheelhouse carrying Daemon back to the Red Keep. Maesters were already alerted and awaiting the prince in his bed chambers. While you had no business being in his quarters, even you had found him. You paced like a mad woman outside his bed chambers, if he died you swore to torment him in the afterlife as you counted every brick placed in the wall you were staring at.

Prince Baelon soon after burst through his quarters, hearing about his son as his conversation with father seemed to have turned quarrelsome. Both him and Viserys had raced down the corridors, the sight was none for relief but you sat on the floor. Knees bobbing in anxiety as you chewed through your nails. Having realised what Daemon might have been doing as dread and anger was replaced with guilt. You made him do this.

The questioning look on the princess’ faces was replied with one meek sentence “I asked him for the moon,” your eyes welling once more. Yet for the sake of your dignity and name you turned away.

After much waiting, yet not having left Daemon’s quarters. You waited patiently for him to awaken, for reasons other than to either press grateful kisses all over his face, or grovel at his feet for his blessed romanticism. Flattered (truly - completely) for broken bones set straight, and bruising along the side of his shoulders and two fat sheep, the cost of the moon on land. When Daemon grumbled awake, his family were the first to receive him until Baelon - being the true supporter of your union - ushered you in after demanding that the Maesters and attendants all leave. The father in him refrained from yelling at his son’s recklessness but you dutifully performed that right for him.

Daemon grinned, loopy from the milk of poppy no doubt. “Princess!” he dragged, very likely expecting an embrace or a pat on his shoulders for his efforts as he sat perched by pillows against the stone headboard. He instead was met with a swift and ringing slap across his cheeks, your eyes and nostrils flared.

“Have you lost your fucking mind!” the rage of a true Dornish woman radiating through your words, unbothered that the Heir to the Iron Throne stood witness to the crisp smack you had landed on his son’s face. You tilted your head, demanding an answer - palm stinging and yet itching to land another sharp smack on his other cheek as he grinned once more. While his cock nearly twitched seeing his sweet princess so ferocious about his life, your eye would soon begin to twitch as he kept up his antics.

“You asked for the moon,” he trailed away, clearly aware of the blunder he had created.

“A joke Daemon! A joke!” you dug your fingers into his cream tunic as you climbed on his bed “If I asked you to jump off Maegor's Holdfast, would you?” you scolded, Daemon’s mischievous glint now turned soft as your anger gave way to your concern. He nodded in agreement, nodding away like a spring headed doll. You smacked him on the shoulder once more, your bottom lip trembling as you remembered the terror you had felt as he laid unconscious in your arms “I thought - you moron,” your voice broke. “I thought you were dead,” you whimpered, making Daemon shuffle up higher.

He pushed stray hairs away from your face, his eyes soft as he glanced over your scrunched face. His thumbs caressing your cheeks before pulling you into him. You sobbed, near incoherent as relief washed over your fright. Daemon shushed you, apologising for scaring you, he looked up to where his father stood in his receiving chambers with a sheepish yet apologetic smile on his face. Baelon’s eyes glinted with knowing sadness, smithing Daemon wrote as disappointment for the stunt he had pulled. Baelon nodded knowingly at Daemon, reassuring him that you and him not to be disturbed before exiting and closing the door behind him.

Daemon milked his injuries for all they were worth, the warrior in him laid to rest as he demanded care from you at all times. From having you snuck through the tunnels to lay with him curled under the furs to insisting that you change his bandaging for him, read for him and braid his hair. The reality that Daemon was the younger sibling had never been more apparent than these past two moons as his bones realigned themselves, even Caraxes shared Daemon’s temperament during this time. Refusing to hunt and gobbling through the horde of sheep the dragon keepers would bring for him.

Whatever announcements of nuptials were to be made were postponed until he healed whole. So here you lay in the Godswood with Daemon oddly chirped than before as Prince Baelon’s feast begins tonight, having him affirmed as heir yet again as Jahereys health began to decline. Barely being able to speak more than a cough or two. The Old King’s time neared to an end, something that had deeply bothered all the Targaryens in the family. Bringing nearly the end of the century of dragons, even Aemma near the end of term. Much was to grace House Targaryen in the coming moons, so sitting here under the red leaves in the glaring warmth of the afternoon - there was silence, there was tranquillity.

You mindlessly sectioned Daemon's hair, braiding it far better than the handmaiden did for him. “You are going to be the prettiest Prince tonight, have women drooling and what not,” you giggled, knowing very well he found your teasing amusing but it often came at the price of having your rear smacked out of the blue.

“I shall escort you tonight,” Daemon whispered, lost in the sensations of your finger tips fiddling against his scalp, consequences and rules meant little to him now, let the world know and have the bother be done with, you were his. What else was there to say about it

“No, you may not,” you shook your head, tongue poked out as you dismissed him. He moved his head to look up at you, you shook your head once more “We cannot, not just yet,”

This one dismissal would result in a knight of pawing and pouting, you were sure of it. A prince of six and ten and yet he couldn’t behave like one. Your gown for tonight already laid awaits in your bed chambers, a gorgeous mustard and gold gown to compliment the symbols of your house. While Daemon often insisted you wear black or perhaps even red, in his head the two of you were already wed; it was only a matter of formality. What courting a woman that has been with him since his toddlerhood.

The Throne room once more had been decorated to charm the guests travelling from all over the Known World, to pay respects to the Old King and to find allegiances with their soon to be King, Prince Baelon. Many noble ladies of courts far and wide, dressed in their finest gowns, hoping to catch the eye of a Targaryen prince, perhaps the heir or perhaps his son. Prince Baelon appeared mellow, almost irked as he made his rounds. You greeted him upon arrival but his usually courteous smile to you seemingly turned to a grunt of an acknowledgment. You found solace within your known friends as they gushed over each other’s gowns while feasting over candied apples and cake. Daemon arrived later, a quirk of his as he walked in head held high and nonchalant, lips curled in a smirk as ladies began to hound him with questions of his well being.

The Kingsgaurd made their presence known as the crowd simmered to whispered conversations, everyone resumed their seats on either side of the Throne room. You sat with a few Dornish delegates and your brother Quentel Martell, he was rather chirpy about being housed by Targaryens, and odd joy or perhaps understanding bubbling in his chest as he socialised with the other heads of houses. The grand titles of the king were read out as his silhouette crowded your vision, the Old King stood in his regalia. A dying dragon yet stood commanding an entire room, people erupted in cheers as he walked to his Throne, his heir and son stood by the spiking swords by the ground.

The grandeur of the feast continued through the elaborate evening, tables coated in food and spilt wine drying sticky. Daemon and you made your rounds, inquiring of the latest salacious gossip and giggling over the older maidens that swooned over his father,when in was unsaid yet apparent that no woman in all of this court would ever be what Alyssa Targaryen was, her fire: her passion were truly unmatched. Another round of announcements were to be made, a grand toast to proclaim Baelon Targaryen as heir once more.

“It is with great pride, I once again affirm,” Jaeherys looked to his son admiringly, Baelon shuffled uncomfortably where he stood and yet you held a sorrowful smile, he truly deserved to have Alyssa beside him, she would have been a far valiant Queen than Westeros had ever seen. “My son, Baelon Targaryen is Heir to the Iron Throne and to be the future King of The Seven King,” the crowd applauded in unison as you joined them, Daemon nudged Viserys as he would be King after his father. As the applause died down, Jaehereys continued “I also with great pleasure, announce the betrothal of my grandson Daemon Targaryen,”

Heat creeped onto your cheeks as you caught Daemon’s lilac eyes across the room, crinkled at the corner as he smirked at you; both of you already aware of the verdict. Daemon contained all his animalistic happiness within him as he mouthed “my wife” to you. For moments, the hundreds of nobles and servants around you disappeared, all the remained were your eyes and his, separated by the wall from the watching gallery where you stood, here where you would be married, anointed by the King himself or the High Septon.

“With the noble lady Rhea of House Royce!” King Jaehereys’s voice boomed through the hall following thunderous applause. The crowds either turned to direct their applause at Daemon or turned to find the bronze dressed house and clapped.

Daemon's betrayed frown turned to his grandsire and his father, this couldn’t be - he was told otherwise, he wished otherwise. Lady Rhea, the great brown haired beauty she was - had already approached the makeshift altar, shuffling her way past the chairs to the Iron Throne; she stopped by Daemon, waiting from him to approach her. Daemon stood his ground, a deceived scowl began to tear through his princely composure and yet he had no choice over the demanding glare Jaehereys had fixed upon his grandson. Daemon felt the urge to empty his contents right onto the stone floor as Lady Rhea and him bowed in honour. Rhea, unaware of Daemon’s inner discomfort began to soak in the outpour of love for the new Targaryen wife to be.

While Daemon began to contemplate ways to weasel his way out of this, he found you standing at the gallery. The wine cup in your hand king dropped as you stool colourless and frozen. Not a blink nor a twitch as you stared at the window behind the throne, bile covered tongue as the sweet wine in your mouth turned bitter. The night was far from ended.

“With such auspicious news, my son, Baelon Targaryen presents you with your future Queen. To secure another reign of dragons, the Prince is betrothed to the Princess of Dorne!”

Another round of shivers jolted you from your trance, this time your reddening eyes shifted to look at the King - he who searched for your mustard clothed figure in the sea of people. Baelon had sooner caught your eye than him as he approached the stairs leading up to the gallery. People all around you are cheering and you hear muffled chatter. His hands tucked behind his back as he waited for you to come to him, how do you marry a man who held nothing but fatherly admiration for you wit, how do you marry the father of your lover. You eyes hadn’t dared meet Daemon’s just yet, refusing to look at the woman that stood next to him as you pulled away from the steel railing of the gallery. Your feet mindlessly carrying you to the unchosen prince, your palms shaking as you took his hand. Any lady in your position would quake with blushed prospects, “she’s just shy” you were terrified, betrayed and above all bleeding.

There will be a part 2 :)

[talaok]

Since all the nominations for Emmys, I need one fic where reader is either video calling or with Pedro when nominations are announced. Somethig fluffy and full of emotions cuz Pedro deserves all of this 😊

a/n: this ask skipped the line just cause I felt that if I posted this next week it wouldn't have made as much sense, so yeah here it is (also, I’m so happy for him and Bella, like omg man)

Today was the day.

Pedro was never usually one to care about this stuff, yes he was grateful, and yes he was happy, but no other time had he felt this electricity in the air, this buzz telling him that something was about to happen... something good of course.

He had set up his tablet on the coffee table in front of the couch, waiting for the announcement to start, but he hadn't even managed to sit- he was too nervous, too excited.

A ringing sounded through the room all of a sudden, and after an initial scare, he smiled, glad you finally could call him.

You were on set. In Vancouver. A thousand miles from him.

"Is it on yet?"

Your eagerness spurt through the screen.

And he thought he was exited

"nope"

"what? How much longer?"

He glanced at the screen, feeling a tiny goosebump traveling up his back at the countdown.

"two minutes"

"Oh my god!" You squeaked, smiling so wide your cheeks almost hurt "how are you feeling?"

"nervous" he chuckled drily

"Oh c'mon, what about? We both know you're gonna crush it"

"I hope so" he sighed "God I don't know why I care so much" he laughed "The only important thing is that Bella and the show get nominated"

"And you, of course" you chirped in

He tried to fight a smile, but it still pulled at his lips "Well if there's room..."

"There you are" you nodded, your smile fading ever so little after a brief moment "god I wish I could be there"

"Me too" he agreed "but at least w-" a noise in the direction of the coffee table caught his attention

"Oh shit, it's starting"

"shit, go go go go" you mumbled, feeling all too powerless in your position.

He sat down in front of the screen as the announcers appeared on it.

"what are they saying?"

"uh- just their names and stuff"

"ok-"

A moment passed 

"what about now?"

He laughed, ever so thankful for your presence "Still that, sweetheart"

"fine, just- tell me when they start telling the categories"

"ok ok here we go" 

"what is it?"

"talk series"

"Bo-ring" you huffed, making him chuckle "I want the good stuff"

"they're doing reality programs now"

"oh my god! it's like they want to torture us"

...

"Oh shit" 

A pit created itself in Pedro's stomach

"what?"

"lead actor in a drama series"

"oh my god" you screeched, doing a poor job of trying not to freak out "C'mon baby I know believe in you"

"jeff bridges... Brian cox... Kieran Culkin... Bob Odenkirk..."

come on come on come on

His mouth widened as he let out an incredulous breath.

"baby?" you called, already knowing but wanting a confirmation "baby pl-"

"I got nominated"

"I told you!" You basically screamed, jumping out of your chair "I told you, baby! I'm so happy for you! You deserve all of it babe, all. of. it." 

"I can't believe this" he smiled, his eyes glimmering with that spark in his eyes he only got whenever he was truly happy "This is crazy"

"Well believe it baby, you're an Emmy nominee"

"I just-" he interrupted himself as the next category was announced "shit it's best actresses"

You nodded, trying to cool down while really just mindlessly pacing around your trailer 

"Bella Ramsey!" he laughed "Bella Ramsey! They did it! I knew they fucking would"

"oh my god!" you grinned "What a power couple"

"I know right?" he chuckled "I'll have to call them I-" and once again, the announcers interrupted his train of thought.

His gaze moved from you to the tablet again.

"best drama series?"

He only nodded, clearly all the anxiety coming back.

"Andor... Better call Saul... the crown... House of the Dragon..."

he fell silent as his eyes came back to you, and this time... this time they shined with tears of joy.

"yeah?" you asked, feeling your heart beating out of your chest.

"yeah," nodded.

You felt your heart and chest and body fill with pure joy as you let some tears fall from your eyes.

"you did it baby" you sniffled "I knew you would. You deserve it, all of it" you smiled, wishing with all your heart you were there to hug him and kiss him and whisper in his ear

"How are you feeling?"

He laughed "I don't even know, I just- I think I need time to process this" he smiled, his hands slightly shaking "A-Are you ready to go to the Emmys?"

"are you?" You laughed, quite literally quivering from the excitement

"As ready as I'll ever be"