#a mighty alliance

[weariedwightarchive]

((tag drop 6

[pandoraslxna]

pervert!neteyam masturbating and imagine he's fucking reader 🫣

A mighty warriors need

adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: The only trouble Neteyam allows himself to get into, is you.

Warnings: explicit smut, voyeurism, male masturbation, teacher/student dynamic, reader trained for her iknimaya at 18, slight age difference (Neteyam is 28, reader is 20), sexual fantasies

Notes: Just something short while we wait for my precious sun to come back and continue her event <3

Adult Neteyam art was made by @Cinetrix 🩵

Neteyam, for all that he tries to stay out of trouble and follow into his father’s footsteps, has never had a particularly relaxing life, or even one lazy day all to himself.

He has also always been what dad calls an "early bird".

When he was a child, his father told him stories of the time when he was a soldier on earth, how his superiors had called him an early bird too, because he was always the first to wake. Dad said, it‘s a quality that shows of discipline.

And that’s part, if not the main reason, why Neteyam has always raised from his hammock before the very first rays of sun could even cast over the horizon.

Stretching his limbs, his tired bones crack and he has to stifle a chuckle because he knows if mother was awake she would scold him because she dislikes the sound of that. After rolling his hammock together and stuffing it away, he walks over to his siblings, all three of them still sound asleep.

He pulls Tuks blanket up, gives her a little kiss on the forehead and then leans over to tip Lo‘aks chin up so he closes his mouth and rolls over in his sleep. It stops him from snoring, and then Neteyam watches with a fond smile how Kiris brows relax as the annoying sound finally stops.

Dad is now up too. He hears him shuffle around quietly in the dark, then nods his head at him when they pass each other. A silent greeting to not wake the rest of the family, before Neteyam ties his cummerbund around his hips and steps outside.

He knows his father is in no rush to start the day before he had what the human called coffee, a brownish powder brewed in a cup. It’s one of the very few human quirks his old man can’t seem to lay off.

But neither he nor the rest of the family seem to mind. It also gives him time to participate in the sacred morning rituals, offering prayers to Eywa, before he goes to pick fruit for breakfast.

Alongside his father, he then attends council meetings where they discuss matters of governance, strategize for the clan's protection, and ensure the well-being of their community.

As a skilled warrior, Neteyam leads training sessions for younger Na'vi warriors. He prepares his students for their upcoming iknimaya, imparting his knowledge of combat and hunting techniques, survival skills and the importance of harmony with nature, as well as the balance of life that eywa protects.

It’s not everyday, but he also engages in diplomatic meetings with neighboring clans whenever his father is too busy to attend himself, fostering alliances and resolving conflicts. It‘s his diplomacy skills, honed through years of observing his father, that help him navigate discussions and negotiations, that ensure the unity and prosperity of their people, which are also well respected, especially among the olangi clan. The flight on his ikran is short, and it’s barely an hour before he‘s back home.

Evenings are dedicated to spending time with his family. Neteyam joins his parents, siblings and the rest of the clan in sharing a meal, one who’s meat he often participated in hunting the day prior. Engaging in the lively conversations around him has always come naturally to him.

You see, with great responsibilities befitting his impending role, his day was usually filled with numerous duties and commitments, leaving barely any time for him to step out of line even if he wanted to. The only time during his busy day that he made sure was strictly reserved for himself, was the time past eclipse.

As the sun sets and dawn casts its ethereal glow over the forest, he leaves behind the clamor of his responsibilities and disappears far off the village. With agile grace, he climbs onto a tree, finding solace on a sturdy branch that offers a panoramic view of the forest below.

Seated high off the ground, Neteyam takes a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of the forest. He closes his eyes, allowing the soothing sounds of nature to envelop him, the rustling leaves, the distant calls of animals, before he opens them again. Right on cue, he hears the sweet humming sound coming from below him, where a small river ripples.

He can't help it. He should perhaps try harder to help it, but he cannot quite summon the willpower.

His position gives him the perfect view of the main reason he occupied himself here in the first place. It was something he just had to do to maintain his focus and equilibrium. It even reached a point where he found himself eager for it, looking forward to this rare moment he had all to himself. The only time where he allowed himself to act upon his own desires. And it was the rush of adrenaline and the excitement of doing something so forbidden and dishonorable that bought him here day after day.

This spot here in the forest, this river below– it was your favored bathing spot. And Neteyam always made sure he had front row seats to the little private show you so unknowingly put on just for him.

The thing that Neteyam had with you, was that you‘ve always been trouble. The only kind of trouble he ever allowed himself to get into.

Logically, he’s known it since the first day of your training, when you were one of his numeyu [students]. He’d watched you undercut his authority a little more with every lesson, and underneath the spark of annoyance that had flooded his veins, he remembers thinking: this one’s going to be trouble, in the kind of way that made him want to smile. He hadn’t, at the time– but he had wanted to, and that was no small feat.

Now, you’re trouble in a different kind of way. Still in a way that makes him smile, but now... you’re the kind of trouble that he thinks could fuck up every single rule and regulation he’s ever made to keep himself disciplined, and he’s fairly sure that he’d let you if you asked nicely.

Fuck, he’d probably let you if you didn’t ask him at all.

His throat feels tight as he glances down below, his hungry gaze landing on you just the moment you untie your loincloth and let it slide down to your ankles. His eyes travel over every inch of your exposed skin, every curve of your body, as you step into the shallow water.

Eywa, you’re a real sight.

Splashing some of the water onto your chest, he watches every little drop roll over your pretty tits, down to your navel. It’s like you’re making a show out of this, bending down to collect more water into your palms in a way that gives him the perfect view of your pretty pussy from behind.

Great mother, the things he would do to press his face between your thighs, smell your arousal, to taste the wetness.

Neteyam can’t help but let his hand skim over his chest, his toned abs and down past the cord that holds his loincloth together. His cock is hard and aching beneath the fabric, begging to be touched. He feels his heart speed up in anticipation, so he shuffles out of his clothes and wraps a hand around his shaft.

Squeezing the tip of his cock, where it turns from blue into a faint hue of purple, he forces the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he inhales deeply and your scent fills his nostrils and he bites down on his lip to hold in a moan.

It’s the same scent that was right under his nose when he had trained you not many years ago. When he had guided your hands to hold your bow, corrected your stance by pressing himself against your back and straightening your spine. It’s the same scent, just so much sweeter now that he has his cock in his hand.

He then rolls your name in his mouth, testing the syllables in a hushed whisper. He can envision moaning it, wants to moan it if he can be completely honest.

Neteyam watches you use different soaps and kinds of oils you made out of herbs and tree sap to rub into your skin. Your hands cup your breasts, palms running over your perky nipples until they’re shining in said oil and he imagines those perfect tits bounce right in front of his face while you’re riding him.

It’s a mouth watering image in front of his minds eye. You on top, your back arched, your hips rolling. And Neteyam, rolling right back, on his elbows, mouthing your breasts, your collar bone, feeling the way you would squeeze around his length as you ride him.

He runs a ghosting touch down his stomach, the vision of your hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member to put some friction onto your needy clit might have made him come when he was younger, but now he just groaned and let one hand wander to his balls to gently squeeze and knead them. His other hand strokes faster, tugging from base to tip in a quick rhythm that makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment.

Neteyam can’t seem to keep them away from you, though, so he quickly opens them again. Feeling the pressure build and the heat start to flood his system, he attentively watched your delicate hands roam your body to further massage the oils and natural soaps into your skin.

He could almost feel those fingers on his cock, kneading the flesh of his inner thighs, wandering up and down, gripping him tightly, urging him on. He could imagine exactly how your hips would circle against his groin, the rub and retreat designed to tease his cock until he couldn’t fight it anymore and just started mindlessly rutting against your body.

Stepping deeper into the river, a content little moan leaves your parted lips as the water encircles your middle. It’s just now that he sees you have a wooden bowl with you. It floats on top of the water’s surface, before you dip it into the water and then empty it over your head to rins yourself off. Neteyam imagines the feel of it sluicing over your shoulders, your breasts, your belly, soothing tired and aching muscles. He imagines the warmth of the water flowing further down, dripping off your rounded hips, your mound. Stroking himself faster, he imagines running his tongue along your skin to catch every drop of water, imagines how rich it would taste of you. It’s such a perverted thought, so shamefully dirty that the sheer thought of voicing those fantasies makes his cock throb so hard that his breath catches in his throat.

It’s so dirty– he is so dirty.

If only you knew how many times he came into his fist with your name on his lips and those thoughts in his head. Neteyams face burns hot with shame, and he doesn't need a mirror to know it's suffused with a purplish blush.

Shuddering, then moaning softly, he stares as if hypnotized at those wonderfully plump lips of yours.

Eywa, he was really losing the battle with his own arousal. His thoughts jumped from one filthy image to the other, it was hard for him to focus on any part of your body for more than a minute because there was always something new, something hotter, something he wanted more desperately.

And now it were your lips. Those lips that would feel so incredible wrapped around his length, he knows it. A mouthy little thing like you surely was good for more than just talking back. Knowing you, you would definitely give it your all as you sucked his cock. He knows you would work through the stretch in your throat like a champ, would take him in deeper and deeper despite the way the fat tip of his cock would make you gag and bring tears to your eyes. You would suck him like your life depended on it, he was sure of it. And you would enjoy it. Would milk him dry over and over again, hell you would definitely beg him to let you suck him off.

Neteyam felt his orgasm overtake him, heat surging through his body like white fire. His hand moved faster, quick strokes that made his chest heave with desperation, chasing that pleasure high like prey, but then you– you turned around, and fuck, your gaze suddenly lands right on him. So direct, if his head was anywhere near clear enough to think, he would’ve realized that you must’ve known that he was there this whole time. But it was already too late now.

Eyes dark with lust, Neteyam held your eyes captive as you then wordlessly pushed him into his orgasm with a seductive little wink, watching with a growing smirk how his back arched and rope after rope of cum splattered against his palm.

See? You’re trouble. Trouble, in the worst of ways.

[vln-vibes]

Bright Hope, Mighty Will

The Green Lantern Corps have lost many members over its years— a risk that came with maintaining the peace as told by the Guardians. Most of the rings reassigned to a new member of its given sector but on occasion there would come those that were so attached to its wielder that they would not accept another unless they resonated with their predecessors ideals.

It’s one such ring that had been on Oa with no new lantern to wield it. Or it had been.

The Blue Lanterns were still a growing group with whom the Corps had a close alliance thanks to their symbiotic relationship; after all a Blue power ring was at its highest potential when near a Green power ring and vice versa. So why not look for users together?

The rings were set off as a pair in an attempt to create a powerful Union and birthing the most powerful duo either Corps had ever seen.

Meanwhile in Sector 2814, on the third planet from its star— Earth, a small family from the Midwest were camping out in the woods after their youngest begged to see the shooting stars where they’d be the most visible. The oldest child explained to their parents that it was a good way to channel the younger’s passion for space and science much like their own. Everything had been well until the elder duo’s sensors brought up a strange signature from deeper in the wood— Ecto-entities or ghosts as they’d called them. Before being able to drag the children with them the youngest stood his ground and refused to be taken away from his stars, the elder assured that she could take care of her younger brother and that they’d be fine alone (they were alone even when in the same house more often than not)

The sun had since set, the telescope set up, blanket had been laid with snacks for them to consume as they sat in wait with jackets to help with the night chill. The duo sat near the campfire as the younger's anticipation grew but the thought of their parent's absences did as well. They'd been left home alone before but they were only 8 and 10 years old, in the middle of the wilderness with no way to guide them back home or even find where their parent's ghost hunting led them.

"Don't worry little brother, I'm sure mom and dad will be back soon"

"Ye-yeah! Besides mom knows how to kick butt, they'll be fine"

"Look!"

The duo took their gazes to the skies as the twinkling night was accompanied by steaks of white dashing by. The older grabbed her slightly old model camera and took photos of the unsuspecting boy's awe filled gaze before he could complain. He stuck his tongue out at her before turning to his telescope, doing his best to follow the streaks in the sky until no longer visible to him. The girl just took to taking some more photos to show their parents once they'd returned. It'd go on for a while like that, the stars as their only witnesses as they joked around.

"Hey that one's green! And that one's blue!"

She lifted her head from looking at her camera's saved photos to find the twin streaks flying together, a quick click of her camera to save such a strange occasion. She wasn't an astronomy expert but she didn't think shooting stars came in those colors. Taking her gaze off of the small screen and looking back up she noted the bigger size.

"Are they getting closer?"

"Maybe they'll land near here. How cool would it be to see them up close?!"

It was as though those words triggered something as the two stars seemingly stopped flying and began their rapid descent. Straight for them.

"They're headed right for us!"

"Run!"

The duo quickly picked up their discarded flashlights and began running away from the clearing their parents had chosen. No matter how fast or further away they got the stars still trailed towards them. The numerous twists and turns never deterring the streaks of light, even as the elder held the younger's hand in an iron grip to prevent them from losing each other or as the younger turned them around and took haphazard turns in an effort to get them away.

"Everything's gonna be alright!"

She panted as they approached another clearing, no idea where their own was but still looking and seeing the stars much closer to them, the lights were blinding. She felt her body get pushed aside and the roll of cold grass on her back, hair getting tangled with small twigs and a familiar but smaller body land on top of hers.

"Look out!"

They closed their eyes and braced for impact feeling a sudden breeze and a slight shake but nothing else. Until they heard different voices echo. Looking gazes and noticing the glowing eyes the other had they sat up--- only to be met by glowing, floating ----rings?

[Sentience located]

[Daniel James Fenton of Earth, you have been chosen]

[Jasmine Dahlia Fenton of Earth, you have been chosen]

[You have the ability to Overcome great fear]

[You have the ability to instill great Hope]

[Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps]

[Welcome to the Blue Lantern Corps]

A bright flash of blue and green surrounded the duo, hands still clasped and feeling a tug on their unoccupied hands, the warmth traveling on their bodies before disappearing altogether.

"Jazz what are you wearing?"

"What am I wearing!? What are you wearing Danny? Is that your old astronaut costume?"

Jazz noted the blue ring on top of her opera gloved right hand, also clenching the handle of a blue lit lantern? She could feel her knee length puffy blue dress move with the night breeze but didn't feel cold. White boots with blue bottoms kicked a pebble to the side, hearing it hit the nearby lake. Given the full moon she took a gaze at her reflection, finding her usual teal ribbon replaced by a giant blue bow at the back of her head and her eyes glowing a brilliant blue.

Danny was busy looking at his green suit, looking much like the costume he wore in a near daily basis when he was five until he started school. His own white gloves had puffier cuffs which reminded him of the astronaut costumes he and Tucker had looked at online for Halloween the year before, green ring also on his right, shaking the green weird lamp in the process. He pulled at the black suspenders before joining Jazz at the lake. His raven locks now had a single green streak near his bangs and icy blues now a vivid green.

"Cool"

Jazz was panicking, wondering what this could mean; what was a Blue Lantern anyway? Why did it choose her? And why was Danny green?

"Whoa!" Her glowing eyes turned to Danny but couldn't find him, hearing the sudden clatter of something falling on the floor and seeing the lantern rolling on its side, had he fallen in the water?!

"Danny!"

"Up here!" her eyes widened as he little brother flew above her, laughing as he looped around in the air, "C'mon Jazz!"

"How did you do that?" her eyes never leaving the faintly green glowing boy, "Can I do that?"

[You can. Just have Hope]

Trusting the voice in her head she reassured herself that they would be fine before feeling the ground disappear from under her feet and got closer to Danny, dropping her own lantern next to Danny's. She felt her surprise turn into a smile before doing a cartwheel in the air and the giggles escape from her.

Neither took track of time as they flew above the clearing before Danny had the idea to race above the lake, streak of blue and green reflected on its surface as it rippled from their speed. It wasn't until they flew back to the clearing that they remembered--- they had no idea where they ran off to. There hadn't been a lake where they'd set up camp.

"Mo-mom and dad will find us Danny! We'll be okay" They had to be okay, they would be fine. The idea of flying above the trees to look for their clearing was tempting but she had no idea how long it would take; did these things run on batteries? Would the power run out soon? Can they even take off these outfits? It'd be weird to be stuck like this for forever. If mom and dad find them what will they think of the glowing? It reminded her a bit too much of how the ectoplasm in the basement glowed whenever she or Danny were dragged downstairs and the substance covered near all the surfaces (that's when they'd know dad was making them clean up)

Whilst Jazz marinated in her thoughts and worries Danny couldn't help but think if there was a way to ask for help, though even if they had phones he doubted they'd even have service or know how to guide help towards them.

[Activating Emergency Beacon for Sector 2814]

"Huh? Emergency beacon?"

"What was that Danny?" Jazz snapped out of her thoughts as she heard his confusion, noting the slight pulsing now coming from his ring.

"I-I think my ring asked for help?"

"...Let's hope that's a good thing "

The brother-sister duo took to sitting by the lake once more, still viewing the stars above and keeping an ear out for any sign of their parents--- they were never quiet for too long. Especially when 'ghost-hunting', not that ghosts actually existed.

They were starting to get hungry again, having not touched their assorted snacks before the whole fiasco began when a steak of green, followed by another, approached the horizon. The first stopped, the second following suit... Were they like them? It looked like two people flying now that they weren't moving so fast. They were too far to properly see but it looked like they were searching for something.

Danny's ring flared up in quick brilliant flash before going back to its blinking; it seemed that was the cue the two in the sky were looking for as they made their way towards them.

"I think that's our ride Jazzy"

The duo finally hovered above the lake shore, the surprise clear on their faces even as one had a mask on.

"Hello, I am Green Lantern John Stewart of Sector 2814" the first man with matching vivid green eyes like Danny elbowed the man next to him.

"Uhh and I'm Green Lantern Hal Jordan of Sector 2814" he said sheepishly, running his white gloved hand through brown locks of hair. "You're the ones who send the distress call, what sector are you from?"

"Sector?" the duo looked at each other confused before Jazz remembered what the rings had said. "I- I think they said 2814?"

The duo looked surprised, disbelief easily conveyed even though Mr. Jordan's mask, actually he seemed more surprised than Mr. Stewart. "I'm sorry but what planet are you from?"

"Earth? I mean its not like--- Are aliens real!?" Danny's wariness disappeared and hovered in the air as he said it, "That's so cool!"

"You two are Earth children then" Mr. Stewart's eyes gained a dark look as he said so, "How long have you had the rings?"

"Umm I'm not really sure" Danny turned to his sister for guidance only to find her rubbing her arm nervously "Maybe an hour or two?"

Mr. Jordan's look matched Mr. Stewart's, like they were mad but they didn't seem mad at them like the teachers would when they caught him and Tucker talking during class. It was like whenever mom and dad's inventions malfunction and they'd go to school with bruises. (Those days mom and dad would mention their teachers calling them, they were always busy with the portal and never answered)

"Do you know what those are?" Mr. Jordan bent down to Danny's level, pointing at the matching green ring. Danny looked at his and wiggled his fingers.

"Not really? The voice said welcome to the Green Lantern cops?"

"Close, little man" Mr. Jordan chuckled, "My friend and I are part of the Green Lantern Corps. We help protect the universe, pretty much space cops if ya ask me"

"You get to travel into space! Awesome!" Danny literally brightened as his green glow intensified. "But why isn't hers green?"

"Your friend is actually part of the Blue Lantern Corps. They're a little different from us but we work together from time to time. They like to spread hope throughout the universe"

"Hope. It said I had the power to instill great hope. But why me? And why did they choose him?" her voice wavered as she turned to Mr. Stewart with a grave lookin his eyes.

"That... That is something neither of us can answer for you" he admitted, a solemn lookin his eyes as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "But we'll do our best to help you two with this"

"Its unprecedented for either Corps to choose children" Mr.Jordan frowned before looking towards Danny again, "What are you two doing in the middle of the woods?"

"I wanted to see the stars" Danny admitted sheepishly, all of this started from his request to their parents. They wouldn't be in this mess if he just watched from home like always, heck Mr. and Mrs.Foley had offered to take Danny and Tucker camping once school let out if he wanted to (but no he couldn't wait a month, he needed them now). "So mom and dad brought us camping but then the stars--- the rings started chasing us and we got lost"

"That must of been scary huh guys?" Mr.Jordan gave a look to Mr.Stewart and the man walked away a bit, placing a finger into his ear and whispering. How weird.

"So you guys are siblings?" he turned to Jazz, she just nodded slowly, took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. She kept rubbing the blue ring on her hand as she did. "Do you guys mind telling me your name?'

Jazz still had that worried look in her eyes, like when she knew the turkey would come back to life in any second but mom kept saying it'd be fine. (Jazz was always right, it was always the same every Christmas). His sister liked to think she was a grown up and didn't get nervous talking with strangers but she was still a kid like him. He would be brave for Jazz!

"I'm Danny and that's my big sis Jazz"

"Its nice to meet you two, or well at least know your names now?"

"Jordan"

"Hold right there"

The two adults just kept talking in whispers, looking back at them every few seconds, Jazz wasn't sure what to make of them but they were the ones who knew the most about the situation. Danny also had a pretty good sense for people and they seemed friendly but she also knew better than to trust complete strangers. Stranger danger was very much ingrained to them at a young age. Jazz knew it was rude but couldn't help but hear Mr.Jordan's outburst of "Seriously, nothing? Its been hours"

It seemed like forever before the adults came back and gave them strained smiles in turn.

"Well kids we're going to help you guys find your camp and make sure you get back to your parents" Mr.Jordan winked.

"We'll also explain more about the rings and what they mean while we wait. Sounds like a plan?" Mr. Stewart made sure to look at them in the eyes and didn't move until they both nodded in agreement.

"Okay"

The brother-sister duo didn't know what they were getting into when they went camping that day but everything was in motion, a new path diverging in time to create a brilliant new future; tragedy, love, and courage would always be on their path no matter how much he'd tried to avoid, it was inevitable. He could only witness as they embarked on this journey together and bring about the Rebirth with allies at their sides.

And he couldn't wait to meet them again, in due time.

[endless-ineffabilities]

the sapphire and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Musings about Aemond Targaryen and the only one he truly needs. His one true hope and love. His beloved wife.

a/n : i had to write something after that episode! holy Aemond! This pretty much wrote itself and I could expand it in the future ~ if inspiration strikes true!

word count : <2k ▪︎ masterlist

Aemond used to think his only solace was himself.

His mother had never been much of a mother in her own right, too muddled in the web of deceit that she and Otto spin at their fancy. Criston posited as something of a father figure, but his true loyalty is to his Queen. His brother has always been a wastrel, and his sister wasting away in her own mind.

Aemond never had anyone. Not truly.

Until you.

He still remembers the day you walked into his life, a lone ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds of stormy grey. You appeared to be a frail-hearted young lady, eager to please and to be a devoted wife to her prince. All the while he saw your spirit dimmed from being offered by her House to be Prince Aemond's newly betrothed.

All to secure an alliance.

There was no promise of loyalty or love. Being the prince, he is able to take into bed any whore he wishes. But one look at you - just the one - and all thought of any other lover vanished from his mind.

The first night he was supposed to take you to bed and consummate your marriage, the meek cast in your eyes had disappeared, and in its place a defiant glint he hadn't seen before.

"If I am to be used by my prince, I will do it with the remaining shred of my dignity. I will not cry, I will not beg for a life I have already lost. If all that I am now is a vessel for duty, then so be it." You looked at him, as if for the first time, and with the flames dancing across your face, Aemond would remember that moment as when his sun first shone down on him.

He felt his anger flare for but a moment, his constant fear of being betrayed taking over him. Had everything been an act? Was this to be a marriage of unpleasantry and resentment?

But it quickly dawned on him that the act - the betrayal - was that if his wife was willing to play a fool and dance under his strings like some marionette.

He preferred this. He preferred you.

"Mayhaps I will not bed you tonight, my lady wife. Not yet," he had said, your face slowly twisting in surprise. "I will let you keep more than just your dignity, for you will also possess the choice. Trust that it is only for the time being, at least, until it is imperative that I produce an heir. From this moment forward, I swear to take no else to bed as it is my oath as your husband."

He watched the minute switches in your expression. The wariness. The confusion. The relief. And he already felt it then, as silly as the notion might be, that you had recognised who he really was and that you accepted him.

Aemond was no scoundrel. He wasn't a villain in your story. He wasn't some mighty, untouchable prince.

He was a boy. He was now your husband. He had decency. He had a heart.

And you may not have yet realised, but this heart - wretched as it might have been - he was surrendering it to you.

With the turn of the moon came ill tidings - the death of his father Viserys. Although he was also not much of a father to begin with. Aemond felt numb to it all and there was no time for any emotion to take root, for the conspiracy festered like an open wound. His brother was to be made king.

"Must you go and find him?" you asked. "What if something were to happen?"

He had been blank and unfeeling, unsure of what to make his father's passing. But then, some warmth bloomed in him at your concern. His darling wife cared. He hadn't yet been allowed to indulge in the pleasures of your flesh, but your nights were filled with conversation and confiding.

He took your hands and pressed a kiss atop each one. "It is I who understands Aegon's doings, my wife. Ser Criston is in need of my aid. My brother would sooner sail away than fulfil his duty, which is why he must return at all cost."

"Let him sail away. Let him go and live as he pleases, husband. He never possessed the temperament of a king. You on the other hand... "

His father is dead. His brother could be gone. The enemy encroaches.

But gods be damned, you believed in him.

Aemond didn't know for certain what happiness felt like, he'd never had a single taste of it. And how morbid it was for him to possibly feel it then. But...

"You would make a far better ruler than anyone, and I don't just say that because I am your wife."

Happiness. How fascinating.

How utterly... simple.

For he realised that he had felt it before. Not even in grand moments, no, but in the littlest of things.

He had felt it when you once laughed in pure bliss when he first rode with you atop Vhagar.

When you would help fasten him into his training armour.

When he would watch as you read one of your stories.

His happiness was standing right in front of him. His ray of light, his sun.

And his sun persisted even when he singlehandedly cast the realm into macabre blacks and greens.

Shaken and despondent, he stumbled into your chambers to deliver the news to you first. In the passing hour, everything will change. Will you turn on him too?

"It was an accident," he confessed. "I thought I could control Vhagar, but... she is her own beast. She always has been. I admit I was angry and it was my folly to seek vengeance, but I did not mean to... " His voice broke, and he felt your finger wipe at something wet from his cheek.

He did not even notice that he was crying.

You still said nothing, so he grew frightful. What if nothing he said would ever be enough? No explanation, no apology. He can't lose his light.

"I never held any love for him," he carried on painfully, "but he was my blood. And I... I just - "

"It wasn't your fault, Aemond."

A ray of hope. A remaining strength.

You repeat, "I believe you, and it wasn't your fault."

It mattered not whether his mother would shun him, or his grandsire would frown upon his gruesome action. Rhaenyra was coming for him, as sure as dragonfire, and he would soon have to face the consequences of his actions.

But none of that worried him, not then.

He had to stay alive, however he can, so that he can protect you. It was not remiss of him to overlook that the ladywife of Lucerys' apparent murderer would also have a target on her back.

Aemond knew that the fight was inevitable, and he was going to win it. For you.

In tears, in love, in pale shades of grief, he kissed you with everything he had in him.

A solemn promise. A declaration of love.

"No one shall know the truth of it, my love."

"What do you mean?"

"They will not know, but you will. And that is all that matters. There is no stopping it now and I must face the war head on. What the realm will come to accept is that I intended to fell my nephew and that I do not regret doing so. They have to fear me. This is how I can keep you safe."

"Aemond - "

"Do you trust me?"

The only thing that mattered, the one answer that decided whether he bent or broke. The Seven Kingdoms were to be covered in gloom and shadow, its fields marred with blood and many a broken bone.

His world, however - his world still had light.

"I trust you. With everything I have, I do."

[mysacredmuse]

I perfectly understand why a lot of people see Aventurine as a confident yandere and I am not complaining, but can we please talk about he would also be the biggest loser EVER when he is in love?

Like sure, he has experience with other people, but it was all quite irrelevant and more to blow off the steam rather than an actual connection with someone..so, when he finally experiences that feeling of "being in love", HE IS A SORE LOSER

he would buy you things in insane amounts...like we are talking INSANE. You want an ice cream? You will get 10 just in case. You mentioned how your shampoo is out? There will be 10 boxes waiting for you in front of your door. Once you explain to him that that's not how it works, he is just...shocked. What do you mean it's not how it works? He is so used to buying friendships and alliances that he can't really comperhend the fact that you are not interested into what he has to offer financially, but rather interested in him as a person

He would follow you around, not in a creepy way, just trying to gain his confidence to actually come up to you and speak to you in order to learn more about you at first

But alas...he would also be so messy with his speech. All the mighty confidence and hidden cockiness just melting away when he talks to you, messing up the words and giving you nervous chuckles as he tries to contain himself and redeem his...loserness. He is so obvious with his feelings and intentions that it's rather cute and a bit giggle inducing if you were completely honest

You could swear that his pupils turn into hearts anytime he looks at you, he is simply so smitten by you and the way you carry yourself as well as the way you treat him. His standards may be low, treat him like an actual human being and he will get all giddy, but it's the fact that you don't let him settle for that.

This is definitely not a loser behavior, but he would learn love through you as well as face his fears, in the process understanding that you won't abandon him or leave him behind. He doesn't mind being used, but the fact you wouldn't use him for anything truly gives him a new perspective of things. Constant reassuarance and communication, the fact you trust him and the fact he trusts you seriously turns him into a giddy little soft mess <3 and he would make sure that you would be taken care of, no matter what he has to do to make you safe and happy

[voidpetrova]

all mine — derek hale x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, vampire!reader, rivalry trope, creampie, sadism, requested fic!!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: he needs recruits for his pack, you need recruits for a pack of your own. the town is big enough for only one supernatural phenomenon, but you refuse to go down without a fight.

✧.*

the night air was thick with tension as you prowled through the dimly lit streets of beacon hills. moonlight spilled onto the asphalt, casting long shadows that danced around you. you were far from the usual supernatural resident of this town. you had no pack, no allegiances, and no high-and-mighty purpose. your existence was fueled by something simpler, more primal—you relished the act of feeding on humans.

stiles and scott, your two unlikely friends, often warned you about the dangers lurking in the supernatural world, and tonight had proven their point. they were your allies in this strange town, and while you didn't exactly need their protection, you enjoyed their company. the trio had faced numerous challenges together, but tonight, you were in the spotlight. derek hale, the brooding alpha werewolf, had been pursuing you relentlessly. he saw you as a potential recruit for his pack, a means to strengthen his power. however, you had no intention of bowing to his authority or becoming a pawn in his game.

tonight, the confrontation reached its climax in a desolate alleyway. derek, muscles rippling beneath his taut skin, blocked your path. the full moon accentuated his fierce demeanor, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint as he growled, “join my pack, or face the consequences.” you sneered, your lips curving into a wicked smile. your voice dripped with the an almost seductive arrogance as you purred, “consequences? darling, you really don't know who you're dealing with, do you?”

his nostrils flared, and he lunged at you, his claws extended. in the blink of an eye, you moved, a blur of motion, easily sidestepping his attack. his fist struck the brick wall with a resounding thud, creating a shower of debris. the alpha stumbled backward, wincing in pain.

with a self-satisfied smirk, you approached him, your eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “derek, darling, let me make something clear. i'm not joining your pack. in fact, i'm here for recruits of my own. i have no noble agenda like yours—i simply have the need to feed.”

derek's rage and frustration were evident, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak. you had compelled him, and he was left powerless to resist. as he helplessly watched you, his hatred slowly morphed into something entirely different—a fascination that burned brighter with each passing moment.

your smile widened, a predatory glint in your eyes. “so, derek, are you curious yet? i have a feeling you and i could have a lot of fun together.”

and in that alleyway, under the watchful gaze of the moon, an unexpected connection began to take root—an alliance fueled by mutual curiosity, defiance, and the allure of the supernatural world that surrounded them.

the tension between you and derek lingered in the air, palpable and charged. he remained on the ground, pinned not by physical force but by your compelling presence. you exuded an aura of enigmatic allure, a dangerous beauty that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

derek's anger, once fierce and unyielding, had transformed into an intricate web of conflicting emotions. he found himself captivated by your honesty, or perhaps it was the brazen way you embraced your darkness that intrigued him. it was a quality he rarely encountered in the supernatural world—a ruthless pragmatism that echoed his own.

his breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as your words slithered through his mind. he could feel the delicate tendrils of your compulsion wrapping around his thoughts, and he was powerless to resist. there was a raw honesty to your confession, an unapologetic embrace of your true nature that struck a chord within him. “you—you're different," he stammered, struggling to find his voice. "most vampires i've encountered are colder, more ruthless.”

your laughter, like the tinkling of glass against glass, filled the alley. “i assure you, i can be just as ruthless when necessary. but what sets me apart is my honesty. i don't pretend to be something i'm not. i revel in the darkness that courses through my veins.”

the moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, casting a halo of radiance around your form. it was a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to derek, a constant reminder of the beast that resided within him. serek's eyes never wavered from yours, and in that moment, he realized that he was drawn to you in a way he couldn't fully comprehend. it was a dangerous attraction, one that defied logic and reason. he knew that aligning himself with you could lead to consequences he couldn't yet foresee, but he was willing to explore this uncharted territory.

with great effort, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements cautious and deliberate. “i won't join your pack,” he said, his tone resolute. “but i won't stand in your way either.”

and so, in that alleyway bathed in moonlight, a fragile truce was born. two supernatural beings, bound by their dark desires and their defiance of the norms of their respective worlds, began a dance of intrigue and temptation. the world of beacon hills had just become a little more complicated, and derek hale found himself entangled in a web of shadows, drawn by the enigmatic allure of the vampire who refused to conform to the rules of their supernatural existence.

in the days that followed that fateful night in the alley, derek found himself unable to shake the allure of your presence. he watched from the shadows as you moved through beacon hills, a graceful and deadly predator in your own right. it was a stark contrast to his own pack, where strength and dominance were measured in more traditional ways.

he observed you with a mixture of fascination and trepidation, like a moth hovering on the edge of a flame. there was a certain elegance to your brutality, a refinement in the way you dispatched your victims. it was as if you took pleasure not only in the act of feeding but also in the artistry of it all.

one evening, he watched you from a distance as you entered a dimly lit bar, the neon sign flickering above the entrance. you sat alone at the bar, a glass of crimson liquid in hand. it was a curious sight—the vampire who reveled in the darkness, seeking solace in the anonymity of a human establishment. derek couldn't help but wonder what thoughts swirled within your enigmatic mind as you sipped your drink.

as the night wore on, he approached the bar, taking a seat a few stools away from you. you acknowledged his presence with a sidelong glance, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips. the air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a palpable awareness of the connection that was slowly forming.

“you seem to have a fascination with me, derek,” you purred, your voice as smooth as silk. “or is it curiosity?” he didn't respond immediately, choosing instead to study you with those intense, cobalt eyes. “maybe it's a bit of both,” he admitted finally. “you're unlike anyone I've ever met.”

your laughter was low and sultry, sending shivers down his spine. “that's because i refuse to be confined by the rules of our kind. i embrace my nature without apology, and that terrifies some.” derek nodded in understanding. he knew all too well the weight of expectations and the burden of legacy that came with being an alpha. but here, in the presence of a vampire who was unapologetically herself, he felt a sense of liberation, a flicker of something he had long buried beneath layers of responsibility.

days turned into weeks, and your encounters with derek became more frequent. he found himself drawn to your boarding house, a place that exuded both elegance and darkness. the scent of bourbon hung in the air as you sat in solitude, contemplating the world beyond the shadows.

one evening, he joined you on the porch, the creak of the wooden floor beneath his boots breaking the silence. he held out a bottle of bourbon, a silent offering. you accepted it with a nod of appreciation, pouring a generous amount into your glass.

“sometimes,” you began, your voice soft and reflective, “i wonder if it's all worth it. this existence, the darkness that consumes us. but then, i take a sip of this,” you raised your glass, the amber liquid catching the moonlight, “and i remember why i embrace it.” derek studied you, his gaze searching for answers to questions he couldn't quite articulate. “we all have our demons,” he said finally. “our own reasons for living in the shadows.”

a knowing smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “that we do, derek. and perhaps, in each other, we've found a kindred spirit—one who understands the allure of the darkness and the beauty that can be found within it.”

and so, in the quiet moments shared on that moonlit porch, derek hale and the vampire with the seductive allure formed a bond that transcended the boundaries of their supernatural worlds. it was a connection forged in the fires of curiosity and defiance, a fragile thread that held the promise of something deeper, something neither of them had anticipated.

a few weeks into your growing connection with derek, you decided to make a memorable entrance at the local bar. you had a reputation for leaving a lasting impression, and this night would be no exception. the bar was buzzing with activity when you walked in, the dim lighting casting a seductive haze over the patrons. a tray of martinis passed by, and with a swift, graceful movement, you snatched one from it, the crystal glass glistening in your hand. all eyes turned toward you as you made your way through the crowd, exuding an air of effortless confidence.

stiles, always the first to dive headfirst into any opportunity, was the first to approach you. he leaned in intimately from behind, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “fancy a game of pool?” you turned to meet his gaze, a wicked gleam in your eyes. “why not?” you replied with a playful smile.

stiles's hand found its way to your waist, his touch possessive as he guided you toward the pool table. as you bent over to line up your shot, he leaned in even closer, his chest pressing against your back. the scent of his arousal hung in the air, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity.

meanwhile, derek watched from a distance, his jaw clenched with a mixture of frustration and jealousy. he could smell Stiles's arousal, and it gnawed at him, igniting a fierce possessiveness deep within him. unable to contain his emotions any longer, he strode forward, his movements predatory. he reached out, firmly snatching your wrist and pulling you away from the pool table and stiles's grasp. with an apologetic glance at stiles, you allowed derek to guide you through the crowded bar and out into a nearby alleyway.

the cold night air hit you both as you stood in the dimly lit alley, the sounds of the bar fading into the background. derek's eyes bore into yours, his voice low and demanding. “you don't belong to anyone, especially not him.” you met his intensity with a challenging gaze of your own. “i don't belong to anyone, derek. i told you, i make my own choices.”

his grip on your wrist tightened, his anger and frustration evident. “i won't let him touch what's mine.” the possessiveness in derek's voice sent a shiver down your spine, and a dangerous smile curled your lips. “oh, der, i'm not anyone's to claim. but perhaps,” you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, “you can convince me otherwise.”

in the alleyway, amid the tension and desire that crackled in the air, a new layer of complexity was added to your evolving connection with derek. the dynamics within the beacon hills supernatural circle had shifted, and as the night continued, the flames of intrigue and temptation burned brighter than ever.

you liked the way his breath felt on your neck. warm, but still somehow able to raise goosebumps across the surface. it was the same way his touch ignited fire, yet left coldness in its wake. he made you dizzy with his attention to detail, the way he'd leave your head spinning and vision blurry all because he knew exactly what buttons to press and when to press them. he was rough, and yet careful, like every move was calculated in an effort not to cause you unnecessary pain, and he never left any unintentional bruises. he made you feel intoxicated by the taste of his tongue—sometimes, his spearmint toothpaste and sometimes, you. he was god-like, when he had you like that, and you knew he liked the power trip—to feel superior in this one part of his life he could control.

he pressed his lips against yours, stubble prodding at your soft cheeks as his lips melted against yours. it started off slow and sensual, but only for a splot second. his right hand grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he pushed you into the wall. you struggled against his touch, but against the lust that fueled his every move, you were unable to pull your wrists out of his grip.

“you're not going anywhere,” he purred against your ear. you struggled some more, but for the first time in forever, you gave up. you gave up and succumbed to him. “just like that, that's good.” you stopped resisting, finally melting into his touch completely. he smiled against the crook of your neck, stubble littering goosebumps against his skin as he peppered kisses against your neck. you bit back a moan when the kissing turned into sucking, his teeth pulling on your soft skin, popping vessels and leaving bruises that threatened to stay for a while.

you felt weak under his touch, the hairs on your neck standing up as you felt the straps of your tank top slide down your arms. derek's rough, veiny fingers hooked each strap as he pulled them down, revealing your lacy bra as you slipped out of the top. he couldn't help but grunt at the sight of your tits bursting out of your bra, his hands involuntarily rushing to your boobs. he could only toy with them in awe, your moans bringing him pleasure. never had you been able to imagine yourself so powerless, especially not in his presence.

“what's the matter, princess?” he practically taunted, his voice thick with lust as he licked the outline of one of your breasts, the tip of his tongue tracing your nipple before engulfing it whole. “cat got your tongue?” you couldn't help but tug at his locks of black hair, a gasp passing your lips despite your best efforts to bite back your moans.

“i've had better, hale,” you retorted, a small smirk painting your lips as his piercing gaze shot upwards, meeting yours. he was all but pleased with your answer, and he proved that by tugging at your nipple with his teeth, provoking a sensation that was flooded with pain and pleasure. it was his turn to smirk.

he had you crying in a matter of seconda. he had his palm splayed over your mouth, your cute little cries muffled while he bullied his thick cock into your pussy. your nails scraped at his back, marking his broad muscles with your desperation. he was so big and mean—didn't let you move, didn't let you speak, whispering in your ear, telling you to take it. to take what's yours and be his good little bitch. he bit your neck, running his teeth along your skin, telling you all you’re good for is warming his cock. when he finally lost himself in the feeling of your fleshy cunt squeezing around his dick, he told you to pick a number. “six,” you barely managed a whisper. he forced you to count all his hard strokes in your cunt until tears started to spill onto the slope of your cheeks, until you were gritting your teeth at how deep he was fucking you, until you were finally screaming as he came, spilling his white sticky cum into the used pocket of your pussy.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and low, little strands of hair clinging to his forehead while he stared at the way his cum spilled out your pussy, dripping lewdly into your soft, moist folds. you nodded weakly, gasping as he collected the cum out of your pussy onto his finger, licking the sticky white liquid with a sadistic smile.

he knew that if you were still conscious, he must not have gone hard enough.

[breakonthroough]

I saw this post on Twitter yesterday and thought, wow I wasn’t paying attention to that! Luffy holds Kikoku in his hands! And Law carefully guards his patient's most valuable thing while he regains consciousness after surgery. And there he trusts him his priceless katana again.

I think these moments demonstrate quite well how much trusts and belief Law puts in Luffy's power and his mighty at relationship and alliance with Mugiwara. For all his prickliness and irritability Law really believes that Luffy is the one on whom he can place all his hopes and entrust his own destiny. And he made the right choice when called this silly annoying rubber guy to Dressrosa to help ends his revenge.

Who are they to each other after this if not the real Nakama?

I'm really looking forward to their reunion in the future. I hope it will definitely happen. The mysterious motives of "will of D" and the bizzare "checkered fate" tied them together too tightly.

rus 👇

Я увидела этот пост в Твиттере и подумала — ничего себе, а ведь я не обращала на это внимания! Луффи держит в руках Кикоку, а Ло бережно хранит самое ценное имущество своего пациента, пока тот приходит в сознание после операции. И опять же, доверяет ему свой бесценный меч.

Думаю, эти моменты достаточно хорошо демонстрируют то, как много вкладывает Ло доверия, заботы и веры в силу и предназначение Луффи в свое отношение к нему. При всей его колючести и раздражительности он действительно верит, что Луффи именно тот, на кого можно возложить все свои упования, надежды и доверить судьбу. И он сделал правильный выбор, приведя этого назойливого и раздражающего резинового парня в Дресс Розу, чтобы помочь совершить возмездие.

Кто они после этого друг другу, как не самые настоящие Накама?

Я очень жду их воссоединения в будущем. Надеюсь, оно обязательно случится. Таинственные мотивы воли Ди и причудливая пестрая судьба слишком крепко связали их между собой.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Cambion's Daughter

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary/Request: "was wondering if you had any more thoughts on Raphael being a dad".

⋆˙⟡♡ Fatherhood <- Original Thoughts On Dadphael

⋆˙⟡♡ Dadphael | Fluff | Good Dad

Raphael stood motionless in his private chambers, eyes fixed intently on the tiny creature swaddled in black silk in his arms.

She could not have been more different from him, small, weak, her features delicate like the petals of an early spring blossom, each contour soft, requiring the gentlest touch lest she be bruised or damaged by the harshness of a careless hand... And yet she was of his blood, borne from his loins in a carnal union nine months past. For nine months he had paid her growing form within you little attention beyond ensuring her continued existence. Babies held no interest for the future King of the Hells; Raphael had bigger designs to attend to, realms to rule.

But now, gazing into her sleepy face, something stirred deep within him that he did not comprehend. Her tiny claws flexed open and closed, grasping unconsciously at empty air, and when her eyes fluttered open to meet his own, he found himself transfixed by pools of liquid amber peering back without fear or judgment.

She cooed softly, her tail, so much smaller than his own, coming up to wrap loosely around his wrist. At the unfamiliar touch, his face -ever locked in a mask of disdain for lesser beings- softened without his consent. Lips parted in a genuine smile, small but full of wonder, as he beheld the tiny creature that was his child, his to shape and form into the perfect creation.

In that moment, Raphael knew he was lost. His life had always been in order, his purpose singular and undistracted; to ascend to the throne of the Hells and rule with unchallenged might. His existence was a tapestry of power plays, strategic alliances, and dominance. He was a creature of ambition, his every action calculated to assert his supremacy. This child of his blood though, his daughter, had worked a change in him he could never have foreseen or prevented.

Now at night, as she slept curled in the cradle of his wings, lulled by the steady beat of his mighty heart. Raphael, the great devil himself, came to live for these quiet moments of unconditional love from his little mouseling.

He’ll bring her with him to sit in his archive, gently holding her against his chest as she sleeps, a written contract lying on his desk while he works. Though his face was still stern and stoic to outsiders, in these private moments a softness always emerged that few had ever seen. As he gazed upon her peaceful face, he wondered how such a small creature could hold so much power over one as mighty as himself.

When she stirs slightly in her sleep while on his chest, Raphael instinctively holds her closer, protective of his newest treasure.

Calls her the apple of his eyes, little mouseling, his little fiend, and my favorite “my little mirror” - Hinting that she reflects the best of her father's qualities.

As the months passed, Raphael watched with joy and wonder as his little mouseling grew stronger. Her amber eyes, once barely open, now gazed up at him with curiosity and delight. Her tiny claws, once grasping blindly at air, now clutched his leg with surprising strength. With each new milestone, she grew stronger, more fierce, and his heart swelled with pride.

His daughter develops a strong attachment to Raphael and seeks comfort in his presence. Whenever she encounters someone new, she hides behind his leg, finding solace and security by his side.

Dark thoughts do tend to creep into his mind. As the future ruler of the Hells, he would have many enemies who would seek to undermine his power. If they knew of his newfound weakness, they would surely try to exploit it. His daughter's very existence would be put her in danger. These thoughts usually diminish fairly quickly, he still thinks highly of himself and with the crown no one could ever strike him or his daughter down.

[aemondsquill]

Across The Stars

Aemond Targaryen × Niece!Reader

Synopsis: Reader delivers a marriage proposal to Lord Borros, Aemond does not take kindly to it.

Warnings: smut, violence, canon divergence, angst ofc, Aemond is mean during some parts, imprisonment, misogyny, abuse, lmk if I missed any

A/N: sorry bout the wait, gang! School has been kicking my ass lately but I promise more frequent updates from now on!

Thick swirling clouds blanketed the skies above Storm' End as Y/N dismounted her beast. The mighty Cannibal's throat rumbled in uncertainty at the situation. The spark of lighting across the gray sky illuminated Vhagar's monstrous form, which did nothing to ease his tension. Y/N rested a hand over his scaly snout in assurance. There would be no fighting today as she had only been sent as an envoy and surely even her uncle Aemond could respect that, he was slave to propriety, after all.

Y/N took a moment to gather her thoughts. Her fingers trembled at her sides as anxiety riddled her mind. She took a breath. 'Mother needs this alliance', she reminded herself. With a sharp exhale she pulled her heavy woolen cloak tighter around her and approached the guards.

Their shiny silver helmets seemed dull under the clouds and their faces were pinched in confusion.

"State your business!" Shouted a guard. His voice was as gruff as his appearance. It appeared as though he had not had a restful sleep in quite some time.

"I have a message for Lord Borros from Queen Rhaenyra, Ser." Y/N replied confidently. She held out a scroll with the Queen's waxy seal stamped upon it. The guard glanced at it and motioned for the door to be opened. A group of men escorted her into the keep.

"Princess Y/N Velaryon, daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen!"

Y/N's eyes followed the foreboding stone walls until they met Aemond's. Her breath caught in her throat and a sliver of pain struck her heart as she saw him next to Lord Borros's daughter. Her mind could not rid itself of the secret kisses and soft embraces they shared so long ago back when they were mere children, a time when war wasn't even a thought in their heads. Surely even he could not have forgotten her so easily?

Y/N rid herself of her foolish thoughts. She could not dwell on the past and she had a mission now.

"Lord Borros, I have brought you a message from my mother, the Queen." Y/N spoke.

"Yet earlier today I received a message from the King. Which is it? King or Queen?" Lord Borros mused, though the humor did not reach his eyes. "The house of the dragon does not seem to know who rules it!", the man chuckled, "what's your mother's message?" A guard grabbed the sealed letter out of Y/N's hand and presented it to Lord Borros. He held it for a moment before calling out for a maester.

An old maester scurried to his side and unsealed the letter, glancing at it briefly before leaning towards the Lord's ear.

Lord Borros's face crumpled into anger. "Remind me of my father's oath?" He seethed. Y/N slightly grimaced at his tone. Her heart sank as she realized she was out of options.

"King Aegon at least came with an of-"

"I offer you my own hand, my Lord." The court was silent at Y/N's bold proposal. She could feel Aemond's sharp stare burning into her, but she refused his eye. Shame prickled her spine and tears felt heavy behind her eyes. Lord Borros seemed to be lost for words, but his face held an expression of intrigue.

"You are offering me your hand in marriage, girl? Your mother is that desperate for my alliance that she'd give up her precious daughter?" He spoke. Y/N clasped her hands together to hide their trembling and swallowed thickly, "My Lord, war calls for desperate measures. I do not give my hand lightly, but I believe you and I would make a formidable match. With me at your side you would gain the Cannibal, one of the most fearsome dragons alive, and you would gain the favor of the Queen. Our marriage would promise you a position on the Small Council as well as an expansion of your lands. Your daughters would be given suitable matches, much more lucrative than the hand of a second son with no lands." Y/N spared a glance at Aemond, who was seething next to his betrothed.

Lord Borros sat back comfortably on his throne and thought of his options.

"Princess Y/N, Prince Aemond, please join us for dinner tonight. I shall allow both of you to plea for your cause and I will make a decision on the morrow. It would be an honor to host a prince and princess of the Realm." He smirked. Y/N nearly rolled her eyes at his invitation, but suppressed the urge with a tight smile.

"It would be an honor, my Lord."

----

Lord Borros was generous enough to provide the prince and princess their own quarters for the night. Y/N sank into a soft velvety settee in front of the roaring fireplace. She sighed heavily and watched the rain pelt against the ornate glass windows heavily. A maid left a few moments ago to fetch her a proper gown for the dinner.

A heaviness settled into her chest at the thought of entertaining Lord Borros tonight. If she plays her part well enough, then she will be bound to him until death. She let a tear slip down her cheek at the thought of her demise. Hopefully he would be an indifferent husband. He had a slew of daughters already so all she had to do was provide an heir or two to make him happy.

A rapid series of knocks yanks Y/N out of her trance. She sits up and wipes her tears away before smoothing the skirts of her dress.

"Come in!" She called out. Still she sat facing the fire, "just place it on the bed. I can put it on myself."

"Do you enjoy whoring yourself out, dear niece?" A cold voice traveled through the room. Y/N stood abruptly and turned to face the man.

"Aemond..." Y/N breathed out.

"It seems you take after your whore mother." Anger spiked inside Y/N. "My mother is not a whore and she will have your treacherous head on a spike next to the usurper!"

"Such harsh words, niece. That is no way to speak to your Prince."

"Why did you come here, uncle? I do not want your company."

Aemond glared at her for a moment, his temper rising.

"Surely Lord Borros would not take some bastard whore as a wife! Tell me, sweet niece, does your future husband know of the kisses we shared? I doubt he'd take you as his bride knowing you no longer have your maidenhead." His cruel taunts rang in her ears and tears sprung to her eyes. He stalked forward towards a trembling Y/N, reveling in the tears she shed.

"My maidenhead is still intact! We never laid together and you know that! Why are you being so cruel to me?" Y/N sobbed. She hated the power he had over her, even with his cruel words. Aemond reached out and stroked her cheek, catching a tear on his finger. Slowly he brought the finger to his mouth and groaned lowly at the salty taste of her anguish.

"A mere whisper of your tarnished virtue could destroy your betrothal before it begins" Aemomd threatened. Lust and anger sparkled in his eye as he pushed her against the wall and breathed in the scent of her slender neck. Y/N shuddered as his nose made contact with her skin, gooseflesh pebbling in its wake.

"Or perhaps I shall take you right here against this wall and put my bastard in your belly. Wouldn't you like that, sweet niece?" Aemond crooned in her ear. Y/N shook her head fiercely, "no! Aemond, please do not do this! I am under Lord Borros's protection and you cannot harm me!"

Aemond paused as he surveyed the room.

"Lord Borros is not here, niece, and I know you have not forgotten your affection for me" His slender fingers hiked up the skirts of her dress and stroked her squishy thighs. He closed his eye and groaned at the contact.

"But I am not cruel, my love. I will not take you unwillingly as I am cursed with affection for you as well." He whispered softly. Without a second glance, Aemond rushed out of the room and left Y/N in turmoil. She collapsed to the ground, dissolving into a puddle of tears. She hated Aemond. She hated the way he could taunt her so cruelly, yet fill her with such yearning for his affection. Being with him hurt her in the most delicious possible way.

-----

The dinner was enveloped in a stony silence. The only sound was the clinking of silverware. Fat slabs of beef and pork lay on silver platters flanked by flaky breads and fire-roasted vegetables. Y/N stirred a spiced soup numbly as she sat next to Lord Borros and across from her uncle. Floris Baratheon was beside him and attempted to make any form of conversation. Unfortunately for her, Aemond One-Eye was not known for being so courteous. Instead, his cold violet eye was locked onto Y/N.

"Princess Y/N, Prince Aemond, I humbly thank the both of you for attending this dinner. I wish we could welcome the both of you into our family, but that is not the nature of war, is it?" Lord Borros spoke. Y/N met his eyes and acknowledged him slightly. She took a breath before downing her goblet of wine. She would require much more if she was to build up the courage to persuade Borros to marry her.

"Please, my Lord, the honor is all mine. It is a pleasure to be welcomed into your home." Y/N smiled broadly. From the corner of her eye she could see Aemond grip his utensils until his knuckles turned white. She smirked and continued to gaze into Lord Borros's eyes, "I would be pleased to be betrothed to such a fearsome man such as yourself."

Lord Borros took a swig of mead as Y/N honeyed words melted into his ears. He grinned at her as his eyes swirled with lust.

"Men from every corner of the Realm would envy me for having such a beautiful young bride on my arm. The bedding ceremony would be such a site for them to see!" Aemond nearly choked on his wine at Borros's words. All eyes were on him and he looked at Y/N. Despite her grin, he could see the fear behind her lilac eyes. Vicious hatred made his hands tremble.

Finally, he looked away and gazed at the beautiful Floris Baratheon. Only animosity and hurt fueled his words. "You have the sweetest lips of all your sisters, my Lady."

Y/N felt the lump in her throat swell painfully before taking another sip of wine.

"I could bear you many sons, my Lord. My lineage suggests we will be fruitful with heirs." Lord Borros sucked in a breath at her words. The promise of many passionate nights with the princess seemed to solidify the drunken man's decision.

"Send a raven to the Queen, my Princess. We will wed within a fortnight." Lord Borros roughly grabbed Y/N by the sides of her face and pulled her in for a sloppy kiss. Aemond shot out of his seat at the sight, nearly gripping the dagger around his waist. He schooled his breath for a moment before speaking.

"Forgive me, my Lord, you said you would come to your decision on the morrow. Do not be so hasty with your treason." The prince seethed. The drunken Lord let out a wheezing laugh.

"My prince, I have made my decision! I will not allow you to dictate my affairs under my own roof!"

"Your King will not forget this transgression." Aemond sat down calmly and continued to eat his meal. Y/N let out a breath, thankful this night did not end in bloodshed. She had seen Aemond maim and kill for a lot less. The foolish Lord Borros should be grateful to still have his head. She was ashamed to admit that a small part of her hoped Aemond would unleash his vile anger and cut down Lord Borros to save her from this marriage.

The dinner continued as it was supposed to. Lord Borros made thinly-veiled promises to the princess that made her skin crawl and Aemond quake in fury.

-----

The princess was escorted back to her chambers by Lord Borros's personal guards. It took several attempts to convince him that they should wait until their wedding day to consummate their relationship, as it would be improper to do so before. Y/N sighed as she entered her chambers. This is not how she wanted this night to go. She wished to be back neslted in her mother's arms on Dragonstone. Back where it was safe and warm.

Slowly, Y/N unlaced her bodice and let her elaborate gown fall to her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her shaking fingers fumbled with the laces of her corset. She prayed to the gods to spare her of this heartache, even if it meant her death.

Her head felt like it was filled with thick jelly and her stomach full of lead as she climbed into the feather bed. Sleep did not take her and she tossed and turned for what felt like hours.

The moon hung was obscured by the storm, so Y/N could not tell what time is was when she heard her chamber door creak open. She rolled over to see who had intruded on her self-pity. To her surprise and heartache is was her Aemond.

He closed the door softly and walked slowly to her bedside before lifting the thick blanket and crawling in. His arm slung around her waist as he pulled her to his chest.

"You were cruel to me today." Y/N spoke shakily. He sighed against the back of her neck causing the hairs to prick up.

"I know. I'm sorry, my princess. I did not mean my vile words." His warm hand turned her over so they were face to face. Aemond felt his heart crack at the sight of his sweet niece with tears leaking from her eyes. Slowly, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers. She sighed softly at the contact and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. They stayed like that for a few moments; lips moving in tandem, tasting each other for the last time.

Y/N felt his hardness poking against her thigh and gently ground her hips against it. Aemond moaned into her mouth at the contact.

"Careful, niece. I would not want to tarnish your virtue." He warned. She panted against his lips, "I don't care, my love, please take me." With that, Aemond's last tether of control snapped and he rolled her fully onto her back. His finger slipped down between her silken folds. He groaned at the feeling of her sticky arousal and pushed a finger in. Y/N gasped in delight at the slight stretch, her breasts heaving beneath her thin nightgown.

"Please, Aemond..." she whined, overcome with pleasure.

"Please, what, sweet niece? Tell me what you want."

"I want your cock. Please, fill me with your seed!" Y/N was desperate for more of him and he was all too thrilled to oblige.

Aemond sat back on his heels and unlaced his breeches before hiking up Y/N's nightgown. He grasped his length and stroked it against her slick folds, holding back a groan.

Slowly, he sank the tip of his cock in, hissing in pleasure. Then inch by inch, he filled his sweet niece's cunt to the hilt, watching her face contort in pleasure. He stilled for a moment, fearing that he might climax so suddenly.

Y/N was breathless beneath him. The delicious stretch of his cock was overwhelming and she could've wept at his tenderness.

"Please, Aemond...Please move" Y/N begged as she wiggled her hips. A firm hand rested against her hip, "patience, little one."

Aemond slowly started rocking into her, eyes rolled back as he relished her delighted squeals and moans.

He whimpered against her throat at the tightness of her cunt, squeezing him so exquisitely.

A primal urge to breed her trickled through his spine as his sped up his thrusts. He would be the one to put heirs in her. She was his, this farce of a marriage she concocted with the Baratheon Lord be damned!

"F-fuck, Y/N, you're mine!" He growled against her lips. She nodded fervently, "only yours, Aemond!" Her tongue was silky against own as he swallowed her moans.

The wet sounds of their coupling filled the room and the heavy scent of sex hung heavily in the air. Y/N felt an unfamiliar sensation building in her belly, shocks of pleasure coursing through her as Aemond's cock stroked the rough patch within her.

"A-Aemond" she whined, "'M gon-na..." she couldn't finish her thought as pleasure rippled through her in overwhelming waves. Aemond covered her mouth before she could let out a scream.

"Shhh, sweet girl. That's it, you're being such a good girl for me" he whispered praises into her ear. The words only served to enhance to earth-shattering orgasm that ripped through her.

The vision of his niece in the throes of ecstasy only propelled him towards his own climax. He grunted as his hot seed coated her twitching walls, making sure she got every last bit.

With a sigh, he slumped down on top of Y/N, kissing her hairline. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight, sweet embrace before pulling his cock from her drenched folds.

He watched in fascination as his cum leaked out of her. He took two fingers and gathered what had leaked out before pushing back into her. Y/N moan softly at the feeling, her cunt slightly twitching at the overstimulation.

"We shouldn't waist any of this. Soon, you will be swollen with my child." A devious smirk stretched across his lips.

-----

The early morning sun peaked through the windows, nearly blinding Y/N. She shivered, despite being tucked under numerous thick blankets. Slowly she reached out for Aemond, but was only met with a bed, cold and abandoned.

Betrayal shot through her veins at the realization. He had just left her like she was nothing. Despair ached in her chest and her shoulders shuddered as she stifled her cries. Her tender heart was no match for his cruelty.

-----

The afternoon rolled around slowly. The day was spent exploring the castle with her newly appointed lady's maids and her future stepdaughters. It was strange knowing they were no older than she was, but she supposed it would make her marriage tolerable. Although Floris had made herself scarce, still upset that her father robbed her of a marriage to a handsome prince.

Maris, however, seemed taken with the princess.

"Forgive my words, my Princess, but your uncle seems like a cunt." Y/N chuckled at her boldness, but could not find it within herself to disagree.

"Indeed, my Lady. One can only hope he gets his comeuppance during this war."

----

Y/N still had yet to send a raven to her mother, informing her of her upcoming nuptials to Lord Baratheon. This had not been apart of their plan to secure Storm's End, but Y/N could not risk going back on her word. So, after her swallowing her pride and bile, Y/N took a quill to parchment and sent it to Dragonstone.

Across the sea, Queen Rhaenyra nearly collapsed at the news of her daughter's betrothal. This is not what she envisioned for her daughter! She had begged Daemon to kill Borros or burn Storm's End to the ground, but he only held her as she let out her grief.

------

Nearly seven months had passed since the wedding of Lord Borros Baratheon and Princess Y/N Velaryon. It was a grand affair, full of food, drink, and dancing. Whispers say that the Lord Baratheon was nearly blind with drunkness and could barely mount his new bride. Spectators grew bored of the dire bedding ceremony and quickly left as soon as they heard the snores from Borros.

Y/N had been trapped under him, dignity destroyed and humiliated, but thankful that it had ended so quickly.

Today, Borros seemed overjoyed that his seed had taken so quickly in his bride. He spent nearly every moment rubbing a palm against her swelling stomach, much to Y/N's dismay.

"My Lord husband, I should like to visit my mother soon. I have not seen her in quite some time." Y/N gently requested. Borros looked up at her through his thick eyebrows, confusion coloring his face.

"Did you not just visit her a mere fortnight ago?" Y/N paused, nerves eating at her stomach. "Yes, but with the war going I feel like my place is by her side."

"Your place is by your husband's side, wife." Borros reminded her harshly, "your frequent absence has been noticed by the court and I will not be humiliated in my own Hall!" Y/N flinched at his tone. While he never laid a hand on her since falling pregnant, that did not save her from his harsh words. "Of course, my Lord husband, I apologize." Y/N bowed her head to hide her tears and Lord Borros stood up in front of her.

"Do not weep so openly, wife. It is unbecoming of you." Y/N wiped her tears quickly, shame oozing through her.

"May I be dismissed, Lord husband?"

Lord Borros nodded and Y/N's skirts swished around her ankles as she hastily made her way to her chambers.

She settled infront of the fire after looking her doors tightly. The flames licking the stone of the hearth reminded her of the night she shared with Aemond so long ago. She held her belly at the memory. Y/N knew that her time was running out. When the child is born, her lies will be exposed and Borros would surely kill her. There would be no denying the white haired babe is Aemond's.

Y/N had to distract herself from her nightmarish thoughts. She picked up a stack of letters from her brothers and carefully read through each one. The most recent correspondence, from Jace, has stated Daemon had tricked Aemond into taking Harrenhal. Her heart panged painfully in her chest. She hated him for leaving her at Storm's End. Every day she prayed he would come back for her and their child and every day her hope diminished. With Vhagar and the Cannibal they could escape this war together and raise their child in peace.

Y/N placed the letter neatly on top of the stack. It had been weeks since she sent her reply to Jace, yet she had heard nothing in return. Had her own brother forgotten her as well?

In her grief, she fell into a deep slumber with the fire warming her bones.

----

Days had passed since Y/N had reminisced over the letters and still no word had reached her.

She sat in the dining room with her Lord husband and his daughters. A light chatter flowed through the air, but Y/N could not find herself interested in the conversation. Until Borros interrupted her thoughts.

"Wife, I have heard news from Harrenhal," the smile on his lips was anything but kind. Still, Y/N perked up.

"Your stepfather and uncle had fierce battle above the God's Eye Lake. My sources tell me that both perished!" The news shook Y/N to her core, yet Borros continued. "The mighty Vhagar and Caraxes fell with their riders and neither had been seen since. I know of your affections for your uncle and of the bastard in your belly." Fear took hold of Y/N's throat. She felt dizzy as sweat beaded on her forehead. The dining hall came to a standstill. Not a word or clink of silverware could be heard.

"My Lord h-husband, I assure yo-"

Borros raised a hand to silence her. "For too long have you played me for a fool, girl. I will not tolerate such disgusting insolence in my house!" He shouted and Y/N jumped at his loud words. Her heart thrashed against her ribs as she pleaded to him for mercy, but it was in vain.

Lord Borros had Y/N escorted back to her chambers, imprisoning her.

Y/N was still breathless at the news of her stepfather and her Aemond. Borros was lying. He had to be!

She let out a shriek that shook the foundation of Storm's End until her throat burned and her voice became raspy.

Sorrow clouded her mind and stabbed at her heart with its every beat.

-----

Y/N could not tell how much time had passed since her imprisonment began. Hours melded into days and weeks as she rotted in her chambers. Her hair became knotted and her skin dull. Her eyes felt heavy despite her sleeping for hours on end. Yet, even in her dreams she could not escape her grief. She was tormented by memories of Daemon and Aemond. How gentle and welcoming Daemond had been after her father's death. How Aemond kissed her so tenderly as his fingers tangled in her hair.

A sudden burst through the door startled Y/N out of her trance. Several maids scurried in and began undressing her and forcing her into a ton of hot water.

"Lord Borros is expecting a visitor today, my Lady, we must make you presentable." And older woman, Mirren, spoke. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she took in the state of the princess. Her wrinkled hand reached out and wiped Y/N's tears. Mirren had always been kind to her, eventhough she was a prisoner. She was the one that made sure the princess age enough, for the sake of her child.

Y/N let them continue their ministrations; scrubbing her skin raw, soaking her in scented oils, and brushing through her knotted hair.

Afterwards, two maids gently dressed her in a fine gown of black with gold interwoven in the seams. She was every bit a Velaryon-Baratheon beauty.

Four guards ushered her toward Borros's throne, where he sat and scowled at her. Y/N refused to meet his scornful gaze.

Borros squeezed her wrist painfully, "you will drop the act of self-pity in front of our guest, whore." Y/N ignored him until he grabbed her throat, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Think about your bastard, princess." She shook with fear and straightened her back and held her chin high.

The large doors of the Keep swung open with fervor. A cloaked figure entered the hall.

"We welcome you! We heard rumors that you had perished in the God's Eye Lake."

Aemond Targaryen pulled back his hood. An icy fury danced behind his violet eye.

"Only fools should believe such rumors, Lord Borros." He snarled. Borros seemed taken aback by the aggression.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, my Prince? Or is it just Aemond? Your half-sister now sits on the Iron Throne. Perhaps I would receive a reward for bringing her your head?" Borros mused.

Y/N could not believe her eyes. Her Aemond, in the flesh. Though he seemed to have a more dangerous unbridled fury rippling through him. His eye was wide and crazed and his nostrils flared and he took quick breaths.

"I came for my wife. Surrender her to me and you shall live another day, mercifully." Borros let out a laugh at such an absurd request.

"You mean the whore you put a bastard in? I should kill the both of you for attempting to embarass me!" Borros shouted. He stood and grabbed a handful for Y/N's hair and held a blade to her throat.

"You will watch her bleed before I kill you."

Aemond unsheathed his own sword.

"I will burn this fucking Keep to the ground and the Cannibal will devour your daughters' corpses before her body hits the ground." He snarled. Slowly, Aemond began his approach towards Borros and his captive, who struggled against his rough grip. Borros pressed the blade deeper, a thin line of blood pebbling from her skin.

Aemond stopped as he saw Y/N writhe in pain. His heart hammered in his chest. No one but him is supposed to touch her.

"I did not take you for a coward, Lord Borros. Release her and pick up a sword!" Lord Borros did not like having his bravery questioned. He roughly shoved Y/N to the stone floor and approached Aemond.

"It is admirable that you are so willing to die for a whor-"

Borros could not finish his sentence before Aemond let out a shout of fury and charged at him. The abrupt attack caught Borros off guard and he did his best to block each viscious swing.

Aemond had been blinded by primal ferocity and plunged the sword into Borros until chunks of him littered the stony ground. Blood had splattered on Aemond's face and he looked like a man crazed as he growled after each stab of his sword.

Once he was satisfied with the pieces of Borros he ran over to Y/N.

"My love, I'm here. I'm taking you with me." He placed his forehead against hers as he held her held. Y/N grasped his hands and kissed his lips.

"I thought you were dead. Borros told me you perished in the God's Eye!"

"Nothing can keep me from you, ābrazyrys, not even the Stranger." He promised.

Aemond stood with Y/N in his arms, where she belonged. The men he rounded up under Rhaenyra's orders filed into the Keep, forcing the Baratheon guards to surrender.

"I should wed you properly now, wife, my beautiful wife." Aemond pressed a kiss against her lips once more, his hand resting on her belly.

----

Aemond wed his beautiful wife according to the customs of Old Valyria. The ceremony was blessed by their Queen Rhaenyra, after she granted Aemond a pardon for killing his usurper brother and rescuing his Y/N from the clutches of Borros Baratheon.

[bones-and-bondage]

Do you think the Dark Urge gifted the Iron Throne to Gortash?

From the Durge’s notebook in the chosen’s room at the Bhaal temple, we can gather that A) Bhaalian artifacts and history are important to them in preserve and B) that anyone outside the temple is filthy or unworthy of them.

The very seat of Sarevok’s power, a giant piece of history of the Bhaalspawn Crisis, is there under the river being used as a Baneite’s mad science lab, while Sarevok’s own child/grandchild still lives and breathes in the temple. Hell, he’s taken his weird second life to sit on the Murder Tribunal himself and yet, the Iron Throne is under Gortash’s control.

Seems like a mighty big gift to solidify their alliance to me.

[pandoraslxna]

— ❝ Who's the mighty warrior? Come on, say it. ❞

⋆｡° ✮ The heat that spreads

Neteyam is more than happy to help you out when you are in heat.

⋆｡° ✮ Lost and found (mini series)

Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

⋆｡° ✮ Three is always unfortunate

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam is ready to do everything in his might to protect his precious little sister. Especially from mean boys that can't keep their hands to themselves.

⋆｡° ✮ Not good enough

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) Neteyam isn't happy about the future mate his parents have chosen for you. Afterall, no one can compare to him.

⋆｡° ✮ Work of art

You're an artist and Neteyam accidentally finds your secret notebook, full of filthy drawings you've made to cope with the little crush you had on him.

⋆｡° ✮ Special friends (mini series)

Neteyam was so used to being the golden child of his family, always doing as he's told... he wanted to be bad sometimes too. He wanted to be the one that would teach you all these filthy things. All the things you were never allowed to do, talk or even think about.

Chapter 1/ Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

⋆｡° ✮ Competitive hate

When you compete, it's always a battle to see who will get the upper hand. And when you fuck, it's the same struggle.

⋆｡° ✮ Drunk words, sober secrets

Getting drunk with Ao'nung was probably not the best idea you ever had. Good thing a certain someone always makes sure you'll get home safe and sound.

⋆｡° ✮ Infected

(Stepbro! Neteyam AU) While on a hunt with your stepbrother Neteyam, he comes in contact with something that makes him act... strange.

⋆｡° ✮ A lesson on concentration

(featuring Neytan) Lately, you can't seem to focus on any of your training lessons in preparation for your upcoming iknimaya and your karyu [teacher] are determined to find out why.

⋆｡° ✮ Unwinding together

Neteyam seems quite tense lately, and like the good friend that you are, you offer him a way to relief all of his stress.

⋆｡° ✮ Feral hearts

There is always a thrill to the chase.

⋆｡° ✮ Sweet dreams

(Stepbro!Neteyam AU) It's date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.

⋆｡° ✮ A mighty warriors need

The only trouble Neteyam allows himself to get into, is you.

⋆｡° ✮ Quid Pro Quo

You owe Neteyam a favor. Luckily, the olo’eyktan has just the idea how you could repay him.

⋆｡° ✮ Drabbles:

Neteyam loves when you wear short dresses

Some sneaky under the table action

Dom!Neteyam edging himself

How he would celebrate your birthday

Discovering that the word "sir" turns him on

He makes you squirt for the first time

Neteyam learns what a lollipop is

Stepbro!Neteyam + cockwarming

Distracting him when he's grumpy

Possessive / toxic Neteyam

Public make out session with Neteyam while your mate is busy looking for you

Free use kink

Forming an alliance with So’lek

Sub!Neteyam

Size kink

Dominant and vocal

Age gap

Neteyam in rut

Forbidden love

Best friends to lovers x breeding kink

[bitethedevil]

Raphael and the Devils Tango

I'm sorry about the awful pun (I'm not).

It's time for more ramblings about Raphael (as always, these are just the connections I’ve personally made. Feel free to discuss, disagree with, correct, or add anything you’d like).

I’ve been doing some reading of the Fiendish Codex II (credits to this awesome post, since that’s the only reason I found out about that book).

There’s a section that details the physiology of devils that I found interesting. I feel like it has been discussed every now and again if Raphael feels any sexual desires or if it is simply a tool for him. Well, listen to this:

“But even though they have no need to reproduce, some devils receive pleasure from engaging in sexual behavior. The more humanlike the devil, the more likely it is to feel sexual desire, often accompanied by a twisted, selfish need for love and affection.”

I think we can all agree that a cambion is definitely pretty ‘humanlike’ compared to some of the other horrible monstrosities in the Hells, especially with their half-mortal heritage. The “twisted, selfish need for love and affection” part especially intrigues me. It makes me think of the whole thing with Hope. Let’s keep going:

“Likewise, sexual intrigue provides a motivation for many of the grudges and alliances behind archducal politics. Like intoxication, sexual behavior, with its destabilizing and even chaotic potential, is reserved as a privilege of the mighty.”

It goes on to explain that things like sex and intoxication (yes, devils can apparently get intoxicated but not by the same means as mortals can) are basically luxuries reserved for the Archdevils. All other devils are expected to not participate in such ‘chaotic’ things, as their whole purpose is basically just to please those above them.

This is where I can imagine Raphael as a young cambion, trying to explore those natural urges, only for his dad to take him down a notch and send him an incubus instead. Someone who can satisfy his biological urges but never love him. Also sort of as a grim reminder that he is beneath Mephistopheles and not entitled to indulge in such luxuries.

I’m obviously not excusing what he has done to Hope, but it just makes me think. The crazy possessiveness and extremes he’s gone to so she can never leave (and so that she cannot be freed). What if its his sick attempt at gaining love from someone rather than just him trying to break her down because he can?

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Hollow Lords

Though their reign was long thought ended, this circle of skeletal tyrants have returned from the dark depths of history to conquer the ream once again. Their awakening heralded by a tide of destruction and plague meant to destabilize the land and seed it with corpses to make up their army of undead.

Something is wrong with this story though, details that don't match up, an unknown will at work behind the actions of the lifeless villains. Whatever threat they may pose, an even greater danger pulls the strings of the hollow lords, a danger the party will confront all too soon.

Adventure Hooks:

Before they awaken, the hollow lords should be woven into the campaign as an innocuous background detail, a threat from a previous millennium which defined the heroes of that era. Forgotten today outside of festival traditions, old monuments, and the standing alliances between kingdoms, This sets a standard against which the party can measure themselves.

Scenario A sees the Hollow Lords emerging in the party's own realm, a wave of inexplicable disasters paving the way for the rise of an emerging threat just in time for our heroes to enter a new adventuring tier. In this instance it's about preventing the disasters from spreading/ the undead from establishing their foothold across a land the party has just finished journeying across. Our heroes will be stretched thin, People they know are going to suffer, and deliberate choices will need to be made about what they can save. Looking into the history of the lords only raises more questions, namely that many of them emerged from graves belonging to people who were born and died centuries after the original Hollow Lords were vanquished.

Scenario B has the Hollow Lords as an established threat, ruling over a Mordor like kingdom of darkness either bordering the party's own homeland, or being the party's own homeland if you want to get bleak about it. After our heroes defeat their first of the villains they receive a strange invitation, another of the Hollow Lords has broken partially free of whatever enchantment binds them and is pleading for help. If the party are willing to take a gamble, this rogue undead is willing to use all its dread power to aid them if they can figure out a way to put it to rest for good.

Though each was mighty or powerful in their own right, there was no unholy conspiracy that connected the Hollow Lords during their living years, at-least not on their part. Instead they were all called back to the mortal plane by a veiled necromancer who had some invisible claim on their soul. Stripped of their will, they were forced to act on behalf of this faceless puppeteer, allowing whoever it was beneath the skullmask and robe to carve out a kingdom while remaining in the shadows. Most troubling of all, those one or two Hollow Lords that were around for their first attempt at world domination also remember the veiled necromancer, speaking of a conspiracy centuries in the making.

Artist

[eldritch-spouse]

Kalymir and tactition reader? Sort of a brains and brawn situation?

[I enjoy this. "Big dumb villain and their smart assistant that's not paid enough"-core.]

He starts pacing around the table, always does, when something you say isn't to his liking.

" DON'T FUCK ME! "

Fortunately, you were hired to be the brains to his muscle, not to glaze his metaphorical balls.

" M'lord I'm fairly certain I couldn't even if I tired. " You eye him up and down, silently asking if he's done with his bitchfit. " Nonetheless, I believe this is no time to be aggressive. You'd do well to send scouts- "

" SCOUTS?! " He snarls at the top of his rather annoyingly large lungs. Some kind of battle axe flies over your head, decapitating baby hairs. You barely blink as it embeds itself into the wall behind you. " THIS IS BARELY A PROPER SETTLEMENT! I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO EVEN THINK ABOUT THIS PIECE OF SHIT RESISTANCE POCKET- "

The King stomps forward on mighty talons, nearly swiping your pondering orb away as he gestures toward it with a fury of such might that it makes the muscles in his arms swell.

" LOOK AT THESE INSECTS! "

" Precisely. "

The demonlord looks as if his honest desire is to cut your back open and slurp the spinal cord out. Yet, in the midst of the anger constantly frying his nerve endings, is a tungsten carbide core of minimal intelligence that reminds him eviscerating you is a most terrible idea.

" EXPLAIN THEN, YOU MOUTHY CUNT. "

" I've been trying to do so this entire time. "

" THE FUCKING NERVE Y- "

" This resistance pocket- " You start, snapping your fingers repeatedly as if trying to garner a large dog's attention. " Is mixed and dangerous, m'lord. "

Although Kalymir is visibly fuming, he does listen.

You scroll through the field of view offered by the hidden summoned aid currently hiding in tall trees. It provides a top-down map feed of the location Kalymir's latest headache has been operating from. Currently, at least. People buzz from one side to another, not many in numbers but extremely well-organized and efficient, almost as if controlled by something.

" Notice there are more than just wrathful demons in the midst, this group employs humans and monsters, especially the less social of the bunch. The kind of monster you'd find hiding in darkened places, isolated but by no means uneducated. To gain the alliance of these monsters, one would need a surprising sense of- "

" I'M FUCKING SNOOZING HERE... "

Sometimes, you're the one that wants to maul him.

There's a tired sigh.

" Harmonious diversity equals no-no. "

Pause.

" I'M NOT A BABY, YOU SURFACE WHORE. "

" Putting that aside, I'm sure you've noticed by now, that they brandish weapons of ancient times. The very things that allowed the initial group to leave the Rings unscathed despite being hunted, not just in Wrath but in the territory of all the Lords you've made agreements with. "

" CELESTIAL WEAPONRY. " The warlord sneers, thoughtful.

" Yes. "

Kalymir shakes his head.

" YOU CAN'T TELL ME THEY'RE ALLIED TO ANGELS! MOST ARE DEMONS, YOU CAN'T BRIBE ANGELS INTO HANDING THEIR TOOLS OVER- " He slams both fists onto the worn and dented table, making your chair jump. " THEY'RE HARDLY EVEN SEEN. AND LIKE FUCKING HELL THESE PARASITES CAN KILL ONE! "

A smug smile tugs your lips. " But, my King, they don't need to be allied to angels to have those. "

Kalymir makes a rare effort to calm down, sharpened claws tapping at the same table. You can hear a heavy-tipped tail swing, the woosh mildly distracting.

" SPEAK! "

" The archives. "

You can hear the gears melting in his cranium.

" THE ARCHIVES... " He stands, mighty body straight as he beings putting two and two together. " THE ARCHIVES! "

You nod, arms crossing.

Not just any archives, the Royal Archives of Wrath, containing a litany of detailed instructions in old Infernal about how to dispatch different types of celestials. The same archives that guarded weapons of Eden stolen from perished angels, weapons that destroyed the limbs of the brave demons who managed to retrieve them, whose core names and sigils have been carved into the cases holding these artifacts. Those are the only celestial weapons left behind, as far as anyone knows. The type of material prize a lord of Wrath would die protecting.

" NO! " He barks once he realizes the first possibility that statement implies.

" Yes, my King. "

" NO ONE COULD HAVE BROKEN IN, YOU SNOT-BRAINED ANKLE BITER! "

Hm, that one's new.

He's right, no one could have broken in, he knows you know this, and the fact that you always seem one little step ahead of him is both infuriating to the King but also exciting.

" Correct. "

" THEN- "

" Who has access to the Royal Archives of Wrath? "

" I DO! I'M THE KING- "

" And who had access? "

As soon as you ask that, he falls eerily silent, pacing again, this time to the opposite display of weapons, subconsciously studying them as he thinks.

" IMPOSSIBLE. "

You recline on the chair, eyes closing. " Is it? "

" I BUTCHERED HIM! I HUMILIATED HIM. HIS VERY SKULL SITS ABOVE MY THRONE OF VICTORIES! "

" His offspring, my King. His descendants. " As far as you know, they were only juveniles when Kalymir murdered their father.

" ONE DIED IN THE CRUCIBLE... "

" The other...? "

Kalymir doesn't answer, he doesn't know. And neither did you, not until very recently.

You don't need to spell the implications out this time, he gets there on his own two synapses.

" YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS. " The demonlord bristles, not because he finds the suggestion ridiculous, but likely because it's going to make things a lot more interesting.

" But I am. He can't show his face, it'd be too risky, but some dissenting demons still recognize and have followed him to the surface. He then seeks the help of monsters living in the margins of societies or straight up outside of them, safer options to utilize holy weapons. And not just that, these monsters muddle our understanding of the resistance's origins and goals, adding humans to the mix just makes it all more confusing. Many of the non-demonic members are likely under contractual obligation to do this too, I'd reckon. "

The King is silent.

" Think about it. You lost track of them a long time ago. This prince-to-be witnessed the death of his father, his brother, his mother has likely died of old age. He has nothing. Nothing but a sweltering desire to dethrone you. This is his doing. "

A cruel glint settles in your eyes, belying that there is room for your frigid coldness in the boiling Ring.

" Unfortunately, he must have been too young to properly absorb his father's teachings, because this is amateurish at best. A little bit of care and thought is all you need to nip his budding plans, m'lord. "

The King smiles, drags a hand down his face, chest heaving faster as a very thunderous bark of raucous laughter shakes the entire fortress. The clapping of meaty red hands accentuates how wolfishly delighted he is.

" YOU GLORIOUS, ROTTEN WENCH! HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN THIS?! "

Yes, really, how did he not see this a mile away? He should have figured it out before you, you actually had to do research concerning the past ruler of Wrath.

Kalymir damn near sprints towards you, reaching over the table to grab you up by the collar of your outfit.

" LEAD ME TO HIM, STRATEGIST. TELL ME HOW TO GET MY HANDS ON THE WORTHLES TWERP. I WILL WEAR HIS BROTHER'S SKIN. "

" Of course, my King. I will lead you to victory as always. "

" GOOD. GOOD LITTLE HUMAN. "

You're dropped back down unceremoniously, feeling a creak in your hip but remaining composed. Kalymir is clearly getting overly excited over the whole deal, you can tell he'll be obsessing over it from now on.

" WE WILL MAKE A NEW CHANDELIER OF HIS BONES. "

Satisfied, there's a pep to the demonlord's step as he makes to leave, opening the great doors to his hall.

" AND ONCE THIS IS OVER, YOU- "

" YOU WILL SIT BESIDE ME AS QUEEN. "

[mumms-the-word]

guys

GUYS

you’ll never believe what nonsense I came across while I was brainrot doomscrolling through all the books and notes on the BG3 wiki trying to find stuff I might have missed in act 2

druid self-insert romantic fanfiction about the first battle against Moonrise and Ketheric

fanfic that Halsin read and criticized!!

Okay if you played early access you shouldn’t be surprised because these books existed in EA. I’ve tried to find them in my game post patch 6 but all I can find is volume 3, which is disappointing because I was hoping to find volume 4

But as a treat, if you’re like me and completely didn’t know about this, buckle up and please enjoy the self-insert adventures of a certain “Roa” who totally isn’t Roan Featherway, a druid of Silvanus and colleague(??) of Halsin himself

———

Book Draft - Volume I

The name on the inside of this faded journal suggests it belonged to a 'Roan Featherway', a druid of Silvanus.

[Neatly written chapters fill this journal. A list of what appears to be book publishers in Baldur's Gate are on the first page. The cover has a multitude of titles, all crossed out: 'The Unforeseen Alliance, volume 1', 'Druids and Harpers, a fight for good!', 'The Shadowed Evil: who dares to stand against it?'] Our hero, the [brave? mighty?] druid Roa arrives in the grove. When he received the summons from the Emerald Enclave, he knew something was afoot. Filled with druids and rangers alike, members of the Enclave are scattered across the realm. They fight to preserve the natural order, keep the elemental forces of the world in check, and do battle with those who would upset this delicate balance. They are fierce warriors, though none as fierce as Roa. Built like [an ox? A bear?], he stands head and shoulders above the crowd. The grove is buzzing with activity. Roa spots a beautiful woman with ebony hair flowing past her shoulders, her eyes as blue as a [summer's day? bluebird?]. His smile turns to a frown as he notices the crescent moon and harp pinned to her chest. By Silvanus, what was a Harper doing here?

———

Book Draft - Volume II

Formed from several journals, paper scraps and, in one case, the back of an envelope, this book has been carefully glued together to form the second in a series of romance novels.

[This seems to be the second volume in a series written by an amateur novelist. The title on the cover, 'Love in Shadowed Lands', is crossed out.] The ebony-haired woman notices Roa's gaze and crosses the grove, [winking? smiling?] as she stands by the druid's side. 'I don't usually wear it out in the open,' she says, tapping the brooch on her cloak, a crescent moon and harp pinned to her chest. 'Except for special occasions.' 'What's a Harper doing in a grove of Silvanus?' Roa asks. 'Not just one.' She gestures to a group by the sacred pool. 'We're generally more cloak and dagger,' she continues, 'thwarting tyrants and [guarding? protecting?] the realm is best done in secret. But you lot have a fight on your hands. We're here to help.' 'Since when do the Emerald Enclave need a bunch of Harpers?' Roa says. 'You haven't heard?' She laughs, her laugh tinkling like a bell. 'Strap in, sweetie. We're about to take on Dark Justiciars, their demented leader Ketheric Thorm and, if we're very lucky, Shar herself.'

———

Book Draft - Volume III

The third book in a series of romance novels, this once beautifully bound book has had pages ripped out, glued back in and even tied to the book's spine using a piece of twine.

['Volume Three' is written in bold on the front. The title 'The Cost of Sorrow' is followed by a number of question marks.] 'But why?' Roa screams, the beast within barely contained. 'Why follow Shar? Why destroy Moonhaven?' Ketheric stares down [haughtily? cruelly?] at Roa as he steps over the bodies of Harpers and druids alike. 'Shar knows all.' He smiles [maliciously?]. 'She gave me a holy mission. I'm merely fulfilling it.' 'The people of Moonhaven trusted you!' Roa cries, his anger rising. 'How could you turn your Dark Justiciars on them?' Ketheric smiles, 'They needed the target practice. Can't have Shar's elite getting rusty, now can we? As for you...' a crescent blade appears in his [cruel?] hands. 'You are but one lone druid, Roa. Who are you to stand against me?' Roa forces himself to his feet, Silvanus' fury coursing through him. 'I'm your downfall. Today you die, Ketheric!'

———

And for the pièce de résistance 😮‍💨🤌

Book Draft - Volume IV

The fourth volume and final novel, this book has had almost every single page ripped out, except for the last twenty or so pages.

['Shadow's Kiss' is written in bold on the front. Pages of crossed out lines have notes in the margin reading 'finale!', 'more exciting!'. The final entry reads:] 'Get out of here.' Roa whispers, clutching his side. Blood pours from his fingers, a final gift from Ketheric's blade. 'I'm not leaving you,' Selene sobs, blue eyes filling with tears. Roa cups her face. 'I won't make it out in time. But you can.' Selene presses her forehead against his. Her ebony hair falls forward, forming a curtain that envelops them both. Roa closes his eyes, a smile lifting his lips as her scent, wild roses, washes over him. 'That grappling hook. You still have it?' He asks. 'Of course. Why do you -' With the last of his strength, Roa pushes her from the balcony. He watches her fall, watches her pull the hook from her pack and expertly throw it, swinging gracefully to the ground. A mighty crack splits the floor beneath him as the tower crumbles. He smiles contentedly. Selene was safe. That's all that mattered. Epilogue: 'Selfish bastard.' Selene says, kicking the base of the grave. Balsin places a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'He was the greatest of us all,' Balsin says, a towering behemoth of a druid, although not as tall as Roa. 'We will forever honour him, for he single-handedly broke Shar's hold on the land, and helped -' [A different hand appears beneath the final entry.] Roan, you had one job. This is not a historical record of what occurred, it is poorly written romance with no basis in fact. And if I ever see the name 'Balsin' again, I will personally feed you to Ormn.

Halsin you’re such a critic

we were robbed

[allastoredeer]

Would you have any bottom Alastor fanfics to suggest? Ever since I came across your blog I’ve been hyper fixated on that idea but I can’t seem to find any

Surely!

I only just realized I have a total of 15 Hazbin fics bookmarked on AO3 😅 but I have a lot in my "Marked for Later" tab, and I'm sure I'll come across more bottom!Alastor fics there when I get around to going through it.

Of course, look over the tags before reading these fics, some of them are more explicit than others.

Here are the ones I've read and enjoyed:

Unhealthy Attachments by Keelywolfe (RadioApple)

Lucifer never thought to ask before what Alastor got out of having sex with him. Probably won't regret asking, right?

Right?

(Post Season Finale)

<><>

A Failure of Business Negotiation by Drowsy_Salamander (RadioStatic)

It began, as many things did for Alastor, out of curiosity. A tryst with Vox to decide whether sex was worth the hype, a neat and simple dynamic on Alastor's end. However, Vox clearly developed other ideas about what was going on and thus proceeded to utterly ruin everything between them by proposing a formal alliance.

... Alternatively: how Vox and Alastor became exes without ever dating

(NOTE: The smut is more alluded to than explicitly written, but I really enjoyed a deep dive into Alastor's brain and his thoughts surrounding sex. It was very enjoyable to read).

<><><>

601 by ChildishSadism (RadioStatic)

Humans aren't aware that the dark desires in their hearts give demons a clear path to earth. A soul in hell can be tasty but a pure soul from the human world was a delicacy that many demons fought for. Vox enjoyed indulging in this pleasure once in a while, it made his teeth feel sharper and his claws deathlier.

It was such a shame that maybe, he should have kept an eye around in case someone else was ready to steal his meal.

or Vox possesses a priest to try to harvest more souls and Alastor possesses a nun to steal his catch.

(REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS)

<><><>

Lucifer and his Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by Keelywolfe (RadioApple)

(NOTE: This one is actually a series. I haven't finished it yet, but it has a lot of yummy bottom!Alastor content)

<><><>

Time to Dance by voland_xx (RadioStatic)

Building a time machine is never a good idea, especially when you’re in Hell.

Sir Pentious’s newest “invention” shocks the residents of Hazbin Hotel (+1) back into their human forms. Alastor and Vox navigate this new adjustment.

or, a demon gets voraciously, hungrily obsessed with a pretty man. What’s new.

<><><>

A Poison for Lust by MatcHoMetriC (Alestial - Alastor x Zestial)

Zestial & Alastor do some 'experimentation' on how the Vee's love potion actually works

<><><>

These are all the ones I have right now, but I'm sure I have a more squirreled away in my Marked for Later tab. If you're looking for more bottom!Alastor I definitely recommend looking through the bottom!Alastor tag! <- I actually just barely glanced through it and found one that looks very interesting, this is this one, if anyone is interested:

Devil's Threeway by Mixkarules18

All Alastor was trying to do was fetch Lucifer for Charlie. It was simple, nothing should have come from it.

However, the Overlord sees something that no one else was meant to and Lucifer decides to have a little fun with him.

Or alternatively:

Two Lucifer’s, one hole

(Tell me that doesn't sound like a fantastic read! I'll be sitting down to give it a looksie right after I post this LOL)

If anyone else has a bottom!Alastor fics they'd like to recommend, send them my way! I have a mighty need