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arminsumi · 10 months

Note

can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)

love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗

AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.

WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am

Wordcount ≈ 2.3k

Playme ♪ wet dreamz

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.

Where are my hands supposed to go?

He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.

This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.

All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.

Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.

But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.

He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.

The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.

How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.

Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”

“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.

His stomach flipped.

“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.

Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.

“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.

You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.

“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.

“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.

“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.

He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.

“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.

He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.

But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.

And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.

“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.

His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.

“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.

“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.

His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.

“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”

He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”

Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally

“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”

Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.

“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.

So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”

You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.

“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”

His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.

When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.

“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.

To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.

But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.

“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.

“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.

Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.

You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?

“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.

“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”

He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.

“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.

“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.

“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.

“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.

“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.

You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.

Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.

Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.

“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.

“Fuck.” You agreed.

“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”

“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.

“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”

You laughed with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”

“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.

“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”

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targaryen-dynasty · 11 months

Text

CHOPPERS.

Part 1 of The Devil You Know

Biker!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Today felt like the first calm shift you had in weeks… or at least that‘s what you thought until two unexpected guests stepped into Choppers.

WORDS: 3.3 K

WARNINGS: There's just too much testosterone in this chapter, mentions of injuries (cut lip), a bit of swearing, otherwise it‘s harmless

NOTES: Aemond seems a bit soft in this, BUT I can tell that’s not how he’s going to be all the time. Credit for the photo of Tommy with tatts goes to @/eatheruniverse. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics.

King’s Landing was the sort of place where you either had two houses or two jobs, and since you were currently wiping down the counter of Choppers and had no fancy–and ridiculously expensive–motorcycle parked in front of the bar, you clearly belonged to the latter.

The venue was busier than usual with several members of the Savage Dragons filling the tables and bar, and the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and leather hung thick in the air. Old school rock boomed off the jukebox in the corner, and the atmosphere was relaxed, making the shift one of the easiest you had in weeks.

At least that was what you thought until raised voices drew attention to one of the tables closest to the door, a familiar mop of brown hair involved and two other men you hadn’t seen that often before. In times like these, you were grateful to work with Cregan, because wherever that hunk of a man went, every turmoil was smothered within seconds.

When you turned around to meet his eyes from where he was drawing some beers, you merely had to wrinkle your nose with a ‘pretty please?’ leaving your lips to coax him from behind the counter.

“I’ll take care of it,” he sighed, and nodded towards the tap, “Need two more for Alyn and Addam. Could you, please?” Making a swift change, you took his place behind the tap, while he dried off his hands and threw the rag over his broad shoulder, walking around the counter.

“Cole! Lannister!” his deep voice rang out, perfectly audible despite the music still playing, “You fuckin’ know not to start shit on my shift. Get your asses outta here before they meet my foot.“ There had been a few encounters with them before, and each one had been won by Cregan.

Thanks to you working at the bar for quite some time now, your eyes managed to flicker between the scene unfolding in front of you and the tap, making sure not one drop of beer got spilled and the foam head was evenly and neither too thick nor too thin.

Even before Cregan reached their table, the men held their hands up in defeat, getting up to head towards the door.

“What are they even doing here? The posh lifestyle getting too boring?” you looked from Cregan and Jace to your friend Baela. She leaned over the counter, fishing for one of the beers you’d poured. You swatted her hand away, pulling the pints towards the edge of the counter, before crouching down to pull the first aid kit from the cabinet below.

“Well, technically, your father hasn’t banned them from entering the bar,” you noted, raising one eyebrow at her as you slid the kit across the counter toward Cregan so he could tend to the cut on Jace’s lip.

She slumped into the bar stool while you hurried around the counter with both beers in hand, sighing in an exaggerated manner, “Fuck, I know, I’ve been telling him for months now, but he’s not doing it.”

You meandered through the crowd of people and placed the pints in front of the silver haired brothers, walking back to get behind the counter again. “I don’t know what has happened between you, and I really don’t care, but just because your cousins left the gang and started their own doesn’t mean they should be banned,” you said, grabbing a rag to wipe off the tap. “They’re still your family, and the few members of Dracarys that come here have been nothing short of calm–unless they’re provoked by a certain someone.” You shamelessly glanced over to Jace, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“We don’t wanna have them here, and if that’s the only way to make it clear to them, I’ll keep going until they understand. They’re nothing but a bunch of elitist assholes,” the president retorted.

You’re just as elitist as they are, was the comeback you wanted to say but stifled by biting your tongue, because they were the ones kind of taking you in and accepting you in their gang, even though you didn’t own a motorcycle and weren’t a member of their tribe. You enjoyed the company of the Savage Dragons, and you’d been around Baela even before your first shift at Choppers, but they had no idea what it meant to grow up in King’s Landing’s lower class and to work for your money.

You handed Baela a freshly poured beer, throwing the rag over your shoulder in the same manner Cregan did before, who was already nursing a bourbon.

“Didn’t you come by motorcycle?”

“One does no harm,” he said, “besides, there's at least six hours left ‘till closing time.”

“How did I end up here?” you asked rhetorically, and pinched the bridge of your nose. Because you were looking for a new job, and Baela’s father was looking for a waitress.

Cregan smiled in a teasing manner, “Don’t you enjoy being a Dragon, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head to the side as you met his brown eyes, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Just because I work here with you,” you nod in his direction, referring to the cut-off that hung on the knob of the cabinet with various patches of flames and dragons sewn onto it, and their gang’s logo patched on the back, “and occasionally ride shotgun doesn’t mean I’m part of your gang. I don’t own a bike and never will.”

The bull of a man just raised his hands as if he didn’t mean to offend you, though the cheeky smirk he held on his lips made it clear he didn’t hold it against you. “Just teasin’, sugar, we know you aren’t.” Sometimes the nicknames he gave you came so random that they really made you blush, and totally not because you had a little crush on him. Cregan was barely three years older than you, but he somehow had upped his flirting game to the point he just radiated daddy vibes. And you didn’t want to know what he was up to when he wasn’t working or taking his Triumph out for a ride with the Dragons.

Hearing his name being called in the distance, you both looked up to meet the violet eyes of Alyn, who was holding up two fingers while pointing towards the two empty pints standing in front of them. Sometimes you wondered if they just chugged it the second the drinks were served.

“After you,” you mirrored his cheeky grin and extended your arm, pointing towards the tap.

The brunette scoffed and shook his head, but not in a derogatory manner. He trailed past you, while you seized the opportunity to clean some of the glasses that piled up on the countertop.

Jace went back to where some of his men were playing pool, the cut on his lip obvious enough you could still spot it even in the dim light of the bar.

“So, the flame between you two dying out already?” you asked Baela with a softer voice, not wanting to catch Cregan’s attention, lifting your head to look at her. When there didn’t come an answer right away, you pressed on. “Just surprised Creg had to patch him up, that’s all.”

She took a swig of her beer, putting the pint down and slightly bending over the counter to come closer toward you. “He’s just been acting so weird lately. I get that it’s not easy when your parents get a divorce, but everyone saw it coming… even Luke handles it better than he does.”

“Speaking of, where’s he anyways? Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He’s in Driftmark with Rhae. Gramps needed some help in his workshop, and since dad’s busy with the new bar, Luke offered to drive her and stay there. They should be back by Saturday.”

You had to give it to Rhaena. Even though she didn’t own a motorcycle herself, she was mechanically inclined. Growing up with a father like Daemon, who was obsessed with motorcycles himself, she received all the support she needed on her way, and he taught her most of the things he knew, despite taking a step back from motorcycles and all things involved after their mother Laena got into an accident that nearly killed her.

At this point you just waited for the day she’d storm into Choppers and proclaim that Corlys Velaryon had bequeathed the workshop to her. You hoped for it to happen.

“Does he,” you nodded toward the Savage Dragon’s president, “want to stay with Rhaenrya or does he leave with Harwin?” You stored the glasses away and threw the rag aside, leaning back against the cabinet with your arms folded in front of your chest.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. He plans on buying an apartment in the city,” you raised your eyebrows at that, considering renting an apartment in King’s Landing already was expensive as hell, so, buying one was a whole other level. “And I can totally see Luke moving in with him, though.”

You nodded, and scoffed at the thought of the brothers sharing an apartment, considering Jace more often than not complained about his younger brother getting on his nerves. Perhaps moving out was his chance to get a taste of freedom and independence.

Your response was seized short when the loud chatter of the customers drowned into silence. Having got used to the background noise a long time ago, you picked up on it lacking the second it ceased.

There was a slight commotion at the front door, caused by the crowd of people parting to make place for whoever entered. It was a weird reaction, to say the least. The customers stepped aside when two silver haired men, clad in black jeans and matching leather jackets with a few patches covering the fronts and arms, stepped through the door and headed towards the counter.

You didn’t have to squint your eyes to make out that it was Aegon Targaryen, self proclaimed prince of the city and president of Dracarys. And though everyone kept a respectful distance from them, you knew it wasn’t because of him, but rather because of the much taller man that trailed behind him like his personal bodyguard, his serious expression seeming both domineering and threatening. You hadn’t heard much about Aemond Targaryen before, a total enigma to you, and while the brothers seemed like the epitome of the golden retriever and the black cat personalities, you knew better than to trust the first impression.

Aegon Targaryen was nothing short of ruthless and deceitful, the goofy and gullible demeanor only a mask he put on to fool people until he decided to show his true colors. The only thing that matched was his loyalty and protectiveness, always going the extra mile for his brothers and sister.

The only things you knew about Aemond were that he supposedly wore a sapphire in place of his left eye after he’d lost it in an accident, though the how and when was unknown and his left eye concealed with a black eyepatch, and that he was in no way inferior to Aegon, just as ruthless and if not even hot-tempered and fierce.

At least that’s what you had heard. You still had to experience their outbursts first hand yourself, most of the stories you‘d heard told by members of the Savage Dragons, or rather Jace, Luke and Creg. And sometimes even Baela told one or two stories, however, they never were as derogatory as the ones the others told.

“Now this is a rare visit,” your friend mumbled, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow as she noticed your attention was solely fixed on them. Not even Jace’s ‘Look who has decided to bless us with their presence’ was able to reclaim your focus.

With every step the pair took toward you, you felt the air being knocked straight out of your lungs, your throat becoming incredibly tight, whereas another sensation built in the pit of your stomach–perhaps even at the apex between your legs. Only when you felt Baela’s hand under your chin, as if she meant to close your mouth–even though it wasn't opened–you figured you had been staring at them a bit too long and a bit too obvious, but something about his striking eye, chiseled jaw and intimidating aura felt alluring to you.

“Cousin,” Aegon’s gravelly voice rang out, acknowledging Baela.

“Aeg,” she said before looking over to the taller Targaryen, nodding. “Aemond.”

The air between them was thick with tension, and it almost made you cringe to the point you had to interfere. “What can I get you?” your voice was a tad more high pitched than usual, and from the corner of your eye you were able to spot the way your friend’s eyebrow raised in a manner that made clear she was judging you.

You tried your best to focus on Aegon, his blonde stubble, the loose curls and lavender eyes dreamy enough to get lost in but not at all enticing enough to outshine his younger brother.

For a split second, you glanced over to Aemond, looming over his brother and Baela, and you were certain you’d caught the hint of a blush covering his pale skin, running down his cheeks and getting lost under his neck tattoos.

“Daemon’s here, sweets?” he drawled, the pet name only topped by the flirty wink he shot you. Goosebumps prickled on your skin, though it had a completely different meaning and got an entirely different reaction from you than it did whenever Cregan called you something similar.

Speaking of, he had abandoned his place at Addam’s table–that man couldn’t do anything else than drinking and chatting while at work, and occasionally threw someone out of the bar–and trailed around the counter to stand behind you, towering over your small frame just like Aemond did with Aegon. “No,” he said coldly. Very unusual for him, you thought.

Instead of looking at the man behind you, Aegon kept his eyes neatly trained on you, a smile on his lips that seemed eerily faked, “Then we’ll have two of his special. Neat.” Daemon’s special, you raised your brows, that meant you had to open one of the ridiculously expensive bottles of Elijah Craig’s 18 year single barrel that were stored in the back just for this occasion.

“I’ll bring it to you, guys,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Cregan, whose jaw was set to the point you feared for his teeth. Both men nodded and left to occupy one of the tables in the back–the one where two of their men had been expelled from before, to be precise.

“Leave it to me,” you warned, putting a hand on the expanse of his broad chest to make it clear it wasn’t even up to debate. “They haven’t done anything at all and you guys can’t think straight right now.”

While you fetched two tumblers and retrieved the bottle from the back, Baela had left her spot in front of the counter, walking over to the pool table to approach Jace. You supposed it had something to do with the way he held his hands balled to fists at his sides and his eyes all but burning through his uncle’s bodies. If looks could kill, Aegon and Aemond certainly would have perished straight away.

Perhaps she would finally manage to keep his rage at bay and stop him from doing anything stupid. Yet again.

Grabbing a tray, you served the drinks to them before cleaning their table from the remnants of their clan’s escapades, several empty pints and tumblers stacked upon it. It was difficult to keep your cool with both their eyes watching your every move, though the younger one seemed to not be able to tear his eye off your body instead, watching the way your black attire clung to your curves, the hem of your skirt high enough to expose most of your thighs and accentuate your legs.

“Need a hand?” It was Aemond speaking, catching you by surprise as you’d judged him to be more quiet-natured. His voice was just as gravelly as his brother’s, but at the same time smoother, if that even made sense. It crawled under your skin, but this time it was more pleasant.

You flashed him a sheepish smile, and weren’t able to meet his eye for long. “It’s alright,” you said, “I’ve carried a lot more than that.” The nod he returned made him appear just as sheepish as you were, and you were certain that if you’d stay just a minute longer, you wouldn’t be able to leave their table at all.

You were completely oblivious that Aegon’s and Aemond’s eyes weren’t the only ones watching even the slightest move you made, though they all captured a different motive behind them. If it was up to Jace, you would’ve perished with his uncle’s in that moment, and if it was up to the Targaryen brother’s, they would’ve kept you at their table just a bit longer–one wanting your company out of self-interest, while the other one just enjoyed to mess with the other side of the family.

You balanced the tray back to the bar, placing it on the countertop and allowing Cregan to clean the glasses this time around.

He looked utterly ridiculous. A hunk of a man, hunching his shoulders while cleaning a bunch of glasses and staring at the men they loathed with all their hearts for reasons you didn’t even know in the first place.

“You’re still aware I’m leaving early tonight, right?” you asked him, trying to get his mind off the matter at hand. “Or do you want me to stay to make sure everything goes well? Don’t want y’all to rip each other to shreds. It’d suck to clean that up tomorrow.” The chuckle you released was meant to ease the tension, though Cregan wasn’t really having any of it.

“No, it’s fine,” he eventually replied. “Take your time off, you’ve earned it. Need someone to bring you home?”

He half turned to look at you, the slight tilt of his head indicating he’d help you out and probably drive you home himself. “Came by car today,” you retrieved your keys from the back pocket of your denim skirt, dangling them in front of his face. “So, no worries.”

“Alright, have a nice evening,” he hummed, and moved to tend to another customer.

You walked around the corner but stopped once you passed it, turning to face him one last time. “And Cregan?” you asked, catching his attention, “Behave.”

“You know us, Y/N.”

“Exactly.”

Raising his hands in defeat, silently indicating that he’d try to keep his hands clean for the remainder of the night, you moved to approach Baela at the pool table. “I’m done for the night, Bae. See you tomorrow?”

She embraced you in a tight hug. “I’ll hit you up.“

“You’ll hear from me once I’ve cleaned up after you guys… again,” you teased and waved goodbye to everyone standing around the table.

As you passed the table with two of the most attractive men you’ve ever spotted before, a shiver ran up your spine, feeling like liquid fire. You tried to keep your eyes on the ground, not able to get lost in the piercing gaze of Aemond once again, but were forced to take notice of them when Aegon’s voice rang out. “Leaving already, sweets?” You nearly missed the way Aemond elbowed his brother at the mention of the irritating pet name.

Unable to speak, you merely bobbed your head once, heading toward the door. Aemond’s ‘What a shame’ could hardly be heard by anyone other than you and his brother, and it forced a blush onto your cheeks before you hurried out of the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, this wasn’t the last you’ve heard and seen of the seemingly notorious devil.

These are my face-claims for the other (kinda important) characters appearing in this series. Cregan, Baela, Jace and Aegon.

TDYK Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @sophie-looks-at-stuff @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @janejenny666 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @rhaenyrarp

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prettymuchteddy · 3 months

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The Madness of Dragons- Addam 1

Chapter summary: The Queen calls for dragonriders in fear of an upcoming war; the dragonseeds answer it

Warning: Swearing, Violence by dragons (graphic), mentions of poverty

Words: 7,032

A/N: This is technically part of a longer fic I have on AO3 but I wanted to post it here since I’ve never posted a full chapter here before; this follows Fire and Blood heavily

AO3 Link

-Addam

Addam ran quickly, however, his younger brother, Alyn caught up. They passed through the streets of Hull. Fisherman were selling their catch of the day, seamstresses were selling clothes for the windy weather, and merchants were selling hooks and nets. The air was cold today, yet the sun was bright. A strange combination but one he savored on the rare days it occurred. The scent of the tide and sand drifted throughout the island. It was one of Addam’s favorite parts of his home. The taste of salt was still on his tongue from working on the dock when he came upon their house.

By the time Addam got to their door, Alyn was already leaning against the wall. A triumphant smirk on his face.

Addam scoffed. “Got lucky this time.”

Alyn raised a brow. “Sore loser, I see.”

“I had to cover most of your work today, so I’m more tired than usual.”

“Someone doesn’t want to admit they’ve lost,” Alyn hummed.

“And someone doesn’t want to admit they can’t tie a knot.”

“Can to! That rope was poorly made.”

Addam moved to open the door. “I’m sure it was.”

The door opened with a terrible creak. Addam glanced at the hinges. The door was barely hanging onto them, and it looked as if it would collapse if jostled too much. He ignored it for now.

“We’re home!” Alyn announced over his shoulder.

The wood squeaked under the weight of their boots as they walked inside. The kitchen was warm with the smell of stew clinging in the space. On the table where they ate, their grandsire sat in his usual chair.

He turned to them. “Boys, you’re back early.”

Addam smiled at his grandsire. The older man had a full head of white hair and a beard that never seemed to stop growing. Addam would almost think they had gotten their pale hair from him. But it was just the passage of time.

“We are and we have news.” Alyn sat on one of the chairs.

“Did they let you go early?” A soft voice asked. “They better have you boys work so hard there and they hardly give you a break.”

Addam watched as his mother entered the kitchen. Her dark brown curls were tied back with a thin piece of fabric though a few strands managed to evade capture. An apron was secured around her dress. The sharp steps she took were emphasized by her boots hitting the wooden floor. Her arms reached out. She pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek.

“Was today alright?” She asked while moving toward his brother. “You two didn’t get into any trouble?” His mother hugged Alyn while surveying his face for answers.

“Everyone at the docks was dismissed early,” Addam explained.

His grandsire looked over wide-eyed. “They never do that unless a storm’s comin’. Did something happen?”

Alyn nodded enthusiastically. “The Commander of the Queensguard stopped by today.”

“Royal business?” His grandsire asked.

Alyn was beaming. “The Queen is making a decree that any man or woman who can claim a dragon will be ennobled with a title and lands, as long as they are under the loyalty of the Queen. The commander and the Queen will be in Dragonstone in two days to meet those who will claim the dragons.”

“That would be… interesting,” his grandsire slowly said.

“Who would they even get to mount those beasts?” His mother said stiffly.

“They are asking for the dragonseeds, anyone with the blood of the dragon.” Alyn stared at his mother’s back while she cooked. Her hands moved slowly now as she stirred the soup.

Silence took over the kitchen.

Alyn was still excited and seemingly didn’t realize the strange tension. “So, what do you think?”

“What do you mean, what do I think?” His mother inquired.

“It’s perfect, right? Addam and I can go to claim a pair of dragons.”

“You can’t be sure of things like that.”

“Why not? Addam and I clearly have the blood of the dragon-”

“-You don’t know that.” She snapped.

“Marilda,” his grandsire sighed. “They’re boys, not fools.”

His mother trembled in her breathing. “Even then, you don’t know how those dragons will react.”

“We won’t know unless we try,” Addam joined in.

“Say you do claim a dragon then you will be bound to serve in whatever war the Queen sees fit.”

Addam looked at her. “But if we succeed in claiming a dragon, we will become lords. We will have a name and be able to have a better life.”

Their mother was taken aback by this. Her brown eyes wavered. She looked down in shame.

Addam approached her. “Mother, we know you try both you and grandsire, but if we have a chance to change things for ourselves, we should take it.”

His mother kept her arms crossed, still reluctant.

“Marilda, they have the blood of the dragon running through their veins,” his grandsire said. “It is their legacy.”

She looked at him for a moment before lifting up her face to meet theirs. “I will allow you to go but if nothing happens then you two will come back home and that is the end of it.”

Alyn nodded. He pulled their mother in for an embrace. She held on tightly to his shirt, almost scared that Alyn would disappear.

She reached into the pocket of her dress and placed coins in Alyn’s palm. “This was meant for a new fishing net, but you’ll need to get to Dragonstone someway.”

Alyn’s face fell slightly. “Mother…”

“Take it. You’ll both need it for passage on a boat. You don’t have dragons yet to fly there.”

Addam gave his mother a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

His mother nodded. “Just be careful.”

As the ship approached land, a single thought came over Addam, Dragonstone was nothing like Driftmark. When they docked, his theory was only proven correct. A shroud of mist enveloped the entire island making it difficult to see around him. Where the sea breeze kept the Driftmark cool from the shining sun, there was no light in Dragonstone. A cloud blocked the sun and the mist served to cover any other warmth. While they walked, Addam smelled the morning dew sticking to the grass. Even upon making their way toward the Queen’s castle, the island was eerily still. He couldn’t hear any villagers, any merchants, or even any dragons. The island was simply silent. He decided he didn’t like this place.

He noticed a group of people began to form around the entrance of the castle. Almost all of the people had silver hair and purple eyes. Suddenly, the idea of having the blood of the dragon didn’t make him feel so exceptional. A few of the men gathered were large with muscle, and their faces were scarred with what he could only assume were wounds from battle. As he looked around, Addam realized he and his brother were the youngest dragonseeds.

The castle gates creaked. It got everyone’s attention. They all watched as the gates opened. A single man on the other side. Addam took in the sight of him. His brown eyes seemed to take them all in. A scar ran down the side of his face, barely missing his eye. He wore silver armor that even in the grim atmosphere shined brilliantly. His white cloak was unstained despite how long it was. He stepped forward and began walking. An unspoken order was on his lips. Follow him.

Those gathered did. He walked into the empty fields of Dragonstone. Fog loomed over the grass and Addam wondered how often he walked here to become familiar with the area. Then he turned to them.

“You are the dragonseeds brave enough to answer the Queen’s decree?” He asked them.

Addam watched the adult men murmur to themselves that it should be obvious. A single voice from the front of the group answered for all of them.

The man didn’t smile but he also didn’t frown. “The Queen will be pleased to meet you.”

A loud noise ripped through the sky. Addam glanced up. From the dull clouds, a flash of yellow passed by. It flew out of the grey haze. Wings stretched out, neck extended, and jaws wide open. It was a dragon. And it was moving toward them. The man seemed unphased when the dragon flew over and landed only feet away from him. Only when it was right in front of him, did Addam realize someone was on the dragon’s back. In a swift motion, someone jumped down. She brushed the side of her coat. Silver hair was flung over her shoulders. Finally, she turned toward those gathered. Violet eyes observed them.

“Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen 1st of her name Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,” the man announced.

They all bowed their heads in respect. However, even with his head down, Addam kept his eyes on her. The reality of the situation was starting to set in.

She nodded at the man. He cleared his throat.

“As many of you know, a large number of dragons reside in Dragonstone, specifically within the Dragonmont.” His brown eyes looked behind them.

Addam followed his gaze. Behind the castle, there was a mountain. Slowly, Addam watched the clouds shift. It wasn’t a mountain, he realized, it was a volcano. The smoke surrounding the island made sense now.

“There are eight dragons that reside within the Dragonmont,” the Queen spoke. “Three are wild dragons, having never been claimed: Sheepstealer, Grey Ghost, and the Cannibal. The other five have lived under the dragonkeeper’s care or once had a rider. These are Vermithor, Silverwing, Seasmoke, Caraxes, and Morghul.”

Addam saw a glint in Alyn’s eye.

The man looked over them. “Of the wild dragons, Sheepstealer is the most acquainted with humans due to his diet of sheep, he is the best to try and claim. Grey Ghost avoids humans at all costs, finding him will be difficult. And the Cannibal? It’s best to leave him be unless you’re foolish enough to try, though I do warn you while his name is Cannibal, he isn’t exclusive to dragon meat. Of the semi-wild dragons, Vermithor is the largest and his only rival in size is Vhagar herself. Silverwing is patient and friendly with humans, she would be more inclined to bond with someone. Seasmoke is fast though a bit withdrawn. Caraxes is a force to be reckoned with, but his behavior is somewhat unpredictable. Morghul has never claimed, but the dragon is still young and has been cared for under humans, so I doubt it will be impossible.”

His brown eyes then narrowed at them. “That being said, don’t think this will be an easy task. You do not get to pick and choose whichever dragon you fancy. A dragon does not bend their will lightly. You can try to claim a dragon, however, in return, the dragon must choose you.”

Alyn leaned close to his ear and whispered “, I’m going for one of the wild ones.”

Addam frowned. “You’re jesting.”

“No. Way better story to tell, right? Claiming a wild dragon.” Alyn grinned.

The knight shifted toward the Dragonmont again. “Of the dragons, Vermithor, Seasmoke, and Caraxes have experience fighting in war. If someone can claim them, the better. The traitors across the sea have dragons of their own, as such it is imperative that at least a few dragons worthy of fighting are claimed during these next few days. In six days, her Grace will have to return to King’s Landing, once she does those who have claimed a dragon will follow us there where you will be given your official titles. Until then, may your boldness reward you with a dragon.”

The Queen turned back to her dragon and flew off toward the castle. The knight who had been speaking to them led them back. Addam noted a group of men were waiting for them.

Ser Criston, as the man introduced himself, stood in front of the new arrivals. “These are the dragonkeepers. They are the ones in charge of feeding and caring for the semi-wild dragons in the Dragonmont. Should you go looking for the dragons in their lairs, speak with them first unless you wish to end up in the wrong cave.”

The men said something in a language Addam couldn’t understand.

As the men left, Ser Criston began helping them set up tents outside the castle walls. Around the time it took them to finish, the night was falling. The knight brought a cooking pot. He started the fire for them, as some maids carried over the chopped ingredients. When they all sat around the fire eating the food prepared, Addam’s eyes passed over those present. There were fifty or so of them. Yet, something deep inside him warned him it wouldn’t remain that way.

The following morning, Addam was awoken by Alyn. His younger brother only had to call, and it was enough to startle him. Addam had always been a light sleeper, unfortunately. After blinking for a few moments, Alyn threw his clothes at his face.

“Good morning to you too,” Addam mumbled.

“Hurry up, everyone is starting to go,” Alyn said.

“Where?”

“The Dragonmont, obviously.”

Addam put on his shirt and pants before throwing on his boots.

“Have you thought about which dragon you’ll claim?” Alyn asked.

“Perhaps one of the semi-wild dragons.”

Alyn nodded, seemingly satisfied.

They left the tent and found the group of men setting out. Alyn snatched two pieces of bread from a table before sliding one to him. Addam cracked a smile at his brother. They ate all the way during their journey.

It wasn’t long before they were in front of the Dragonmont. The volcano twisted up toward the sky, a cloud of smoke forming around the entrance. The smell of burning rock was growing as they walked closer.

“They say that’s where Grey Ghost lives,” one of the men commented.

Addam looked at the entrance of the volcano and wondered how resistant to flame a dragon must be to live in such an environment.

The dragonkeepers stood at the base of the volcano. Addam counted five of them, one for each dragon, he supposed. From their stern expressions, they seemed to be expecting them.

The oldest of the dragonkeepers asked, “Which dragon have you come to claim?”

Addam glanced at the group they were with. One man stepped forward. He was middle-aged with blond hair and brown eyes. He wore armor and had a sword by his waist. A grin was on his lips.

“Vermithor,” he said without hesitation.

The dragonkeeper did not seem surprised in the slightest. The older man nodded and pointed up toward the volcano. “Vermithor resides in the cave furthest from the entrance of the volcano. His lair is connected to Silverwing, so if you intend on claiming Vermithor try to stay away from her.”

The dragonkeeper then turned to the other keepers, communicating something in another language before turning to them again. “I will take you to his cave, but I will not enter.”

Alyn nudged Addam on the side. The teenager winced. “What?”

“You said you wanted to claim a dragon, tell them which one so we can go,” his brother whispered.

“I haven’t decided which one yet. Besides, maybe we can follow and see how it’s done.”

Alyn slowly nodded. A grin eventually illuminated his face. “That’s why you’re the clever one.”

Addam chuckled.

The dragonkeeper began to lead them toward Vermithor’s cave. The soil around the volcano gradually became gravel and shifted against their boots. The wind howled in his ears. He wrapped his vest closer around his chest as the cold air picked up, sending goosebumps along his arms. He could smell the smoke now as they approached an odd trail. Several caves were positioned around the base of the volcano, while others, Addam noticed were higher up and needed to be climbed to reach.

The dragonkeeper glanced at every cave they passed. He gestured at a tiny entrance to a cave that seemed to go underground. “That one is Morghul’s. They’re a smaller dragon so a small cave suits them.”

“Them?” One of the men asked.

The keeper frowned. “No one knows Morghul’s sex.”

Alyn scoffed “, Why not?”

“We tend to be wary of Morghul and no one come forward to be their keeper,” he answered.

“What is it an aggressive one?” One of the men asked.

“Their name is not a good one. It’s bad luck. No keeper wants to be around a dragon with bad luck,” the keeper said.

Alyn moved closer. “What does Morghul mean?”

The dragonkeeper frowned. “Death.”

Addam glanced up. One cave was higher on the volcano. He noticed it was relatively quiet.

The dragonkeeper must have noticed his staring and said “, That’s Seasmoke’s cave. He’s a quiet one, never leaves his cave.”

“He’s one the ones that’s gone to war before, right?” Someone asked.

The keeper nodded. “He used to belong to the son of the Lord of the Tides. He lived on Driftmark for many years.”

Addam’s ears perked up when he heard the mention of his home. “He was from Driftmark?”

“He was. That was before his rider’s death. Once the man died, however, he stopped flying to Driftmark and has stayed in his cave ever since.”

Addam regarded the cave. It didn’t seem right for a dragon so used to the beaches and warmth to be here. Such a creature deserved to be flying above the tides with the salty wind rushing against his face. A smile grew on his lips as he thought about the dragon.

“And that one,” the dragonkeeper suddenly said. “Stay clear of that one.”

Addam’s eyes flew to the cave on the side of the volcano. It was a massive entrance and much higher up than Seasmoke’s lair.

“Whose cave is that one?” Addam found himself asking.

“The Cannibal.”

Addam swallowed. They began moving a bit faster than before upon hearing whose cave was above them. Once they were far enough, the dragonkeeper slowed his pace. Another cave was carved into the side of the volcano where Addam saw a group walking inside.

“Whose cave is that?” A man inquired.

“Caraxes.”

The man seemed surprised. “Caraxes? Didn’t a prince used to ride him?”

The dragonkeeper glanced at the cave, a similar frown on his face as before. “Yes, Caraxes used to be the former Prince Daemon’s mount. However, he disappeared twenty years ago.”

“Disappeared?” Alyn asked. “Was he never found?”

“No. It’s assumed that he has since passed given that Caraxes has not tried to find him.”

Addam noted the frown on the keeper’s face. “What is Caraxes like?” He asked.

“He’s rather unpredictable.” A grim look was on his face. “He is quick to violence when irritated. The keeper assigned to him feeds him from afar.”

The dragonkeeper stopped walking. “We’re here.” He pointed at a cave that was nestled in between the volcano. The entrance was large with jagged edges. Another cave was close by. Silverwing’s lair.

“This is where our paths diverge. I will return to the other keepers.”

“You’ll see us soon enough,” the man with blond hair said. “And with a dragon.”

The dragonkeeper for some odd reason didn’t smile. He simply nodded then turned back. Addam watched as he disappeared in the distance.

“Well come on boys, I’ve got a dragon to claim.” The blond grinned.

The group trudged toward the cave. The moment Addam stepped inside the smell of dead animal hit him. He held in the urge to gag. He didn’t want to think of the leftover rotting flesh Vermithor had forgotten to eat. He tried to focus on the chill inside the cave. It was cold. No sun touched this place, he shouldn’t be surprised. Gods it was dark. It was getting harder to see things in front of him. The floor was unsteady, and he caught himself tripping. As they walked further inside, Addam grabbed his brother’s arm to keep him close. There was no light now. Addam realized their mistake much too late.

One of the men tried to jest about the situation. “Of course, you would choose the second largest dragon in the world, Massey.”

“Shouldn’t I get the best? Would be satisfied with a cursed dragon like Morghul?” The blond, Massey said.

“Yeah, well maybe you should have brought a torch,” someone else mentioned.

A soft growl interrupted the conversation. Addam tightened his grip on his brother’s arm and placed himself in front of Alyn. A gust of wind blew against his hair. It came from further inside the cave. Everyone went silent. Another growl vibrated through the walls.

A glow came from the darkness. Fire erupted from the cave. It reached out and orange flames danced toward the ceiling. Standing within the cave breathing the deadly fire was a bronze dragon. His horns were long and ran along his neck. The rows of his teeth were uneven. A peculiarity he noticed was one eye was brown while the other was completely white. The teenager stared up at him. Vermithor.

A gentle purr came from nearby. Addam turned to see another dragon approaching. The newcomer had smooth silver scales. The dragon was much leaner in terms of shape. Her neck extended out to the Bronze Fury, and she placed her head under his snout. Her sapphire blue eyes were planted firmly on the dragon she nestled with. The connected caves suddenly came to mind. This was Silverwing. Vermithor ceased his rampage upon feeling Silverwing, closing his mouth promptly.

It went dark again.

Addam became aware of every sound in the cave. Every breath taken both human and dragon, he heard. That included the steps against the stone ground. He stilled. Who was moving?

“Vermithor!” Massey called out.

Addam’s stomach twisted.

“Vermithor!” Massey called out to the darkness. “You have a new rider.”

The glow began illuminating the cave. This time it was closer. Without warning, flames engulfed the space. Addam could only watch as Massey, who was standing a few away from Vermithor and Silverwing was burned. The bronze dragon rained fire down on the man while Silverwing observed.

Addam turned to his brother and screamed: “, Run!”

Alyn wouldn’t let go of his arm. Addam screamed again. “Run now!”

The flames danced dangerously close to them. Addam heard Alyn run toward the exit, but he stayed put. He had to make sure that Massey was alive.

Addam saw the dragon close his mouth once more. The flickering flames engulfed Massey. He and the men grabbed him. Addam ignored the burning sensation on his hand when he held Massey’s burnt shoulder. Silence filled the cave. No word came from Massey. No cough. No heaving his chest. Nothing.

He was dead.

Screams broke through the air. They all ran out of the cave and toward the source. Caraxes’ lair. As they headed there another sound pierced through. Snap.

Addam stilled. The men continued to run past him. He stared ahead. He watched the men’s features contort. The teenager forced himself to pick up his feet and walk. When he reached the entrance of Caraxes’ lair, he regretted it.

Stains of red painted the wall of the cave. Below the red, were the mangled bodies of the dragonseeds he had seen earlier. Their corpses twisted unnaturally as if every bone was broken.

In the middle of the massacre was Caraxes. Never in his life had he seen a dragon that looked like him. His neck was extended far longer than a regular dragon’s. His body was thin and seemed more in line with a snake. He understood why there had been hesitation on the dragonkeeper’s end regarding Caraxes.

One of the men dragged a corpse away. Addam could tell from the way he looked at the dead man, they knew each other. Massive teeth marks were along his waist horizontally. Yet they weren’t deep enough to kill him. No, he died impacting the wall. The man grit his teeth. He lifted his head to look at Caraxes. The dragon hardly looked at them, his amber eyes remained on the wall. The man took a spear left behind by a dragonkeeper. Someone tried to grab his shoulder, but he pushed them away. He charged at Caraxes. The dragon’s eyes flicked back to him. The Blood Wyrm didn’t turn his neck. However, the man ran toward his center, not noticing his tail slowly rising.

Addam watched in horror. Someone screamed, “Look out!”

It was too late. The man barely had a chance to look when Caraxes’ tail swung. He was tossed into the air almost like a ragdoll. The force threw him against the wall. Snap. Blood splattered the wall. His limp body twisted backward. His spine was broken. Caraxes shifted his gaze toward them. The threat of doing the same was evident in his eyes.

Addam felt someone grab his shoulder. It tore his eyes away from the corpse that had moments ago been a living man.

They retreated back to the camp. Not a word was said between them as they walked. Addam trudged through the camp feeling numb. His feet took him back to his tent. Upon opening the fabric, he was met with the sight of Alyn. His brother stared expectantly. His indigo eyes were beginning to waver.

“Is Massey…?”

Addam shook his head. His brother’s eyes shifted toward the floor. An uncomfortable silence filled the tent. Addam sat down in a chair, his mind replaying the corpses of the dead men who tried to become dragonriders. Ser Criston said dragons can reject riders. But he never thought it would be like this. Yet their mother had already sacrificed the money to get them here to Dragonstone. The price to become a dragonrider was high but Addam felt there was no going back. He would either leave here with a dragon or as a failure. He would keep trying. It was the only thing he could do.

Addam left the tent the following day, alone. It was later in the afternoon but as most of the other dragonseeds were returning from failed attempts to claim a dragon, he figured now would be the best time to go to the Dragonmount. He navigated through the rocky soil and narrow pathways until he reached his destination. His eyes focused on a particular cave. With careful steps, he made his way inside.

The air was cold inside the cave. Drops from the ceiling fell every now and again. Bats clung to the high crevices, squeaking as he walked. For as old as the cave must have been, it smelled damp. He had heard dragons smelled a certain way but all he smelled was the cold water suffocating the small space. A chill ran up his spine when he heard metal drag along the ground.

Addam peaked his head from behind a corner. There he saw him. Seasmoke. The teenager was caught off guard by his appearance. His scales were a brilliant silver-grey color, but they clung to his bones, outlining his ribs. His snout traced every curve of his face. While his yellow eyes were sunken in. Addam heard from the dragonkeeper that Seasmoke became reclusive after his former rider died. The man mentioned that he never left his lair and would go long periods without eating. Addam believed him but he didn’t think it was to this extent. The dragon looked barely alive.

Addam stepped forward. His stomach fell upon seeing Steffon Darklyn. The man was already approaching the dragon. Disappointment set in for the boy. He had hoped that no one else would be here. Now there was a chance that Seasmoke would be claimed by someone else. Looking at the older man, Addam knew that with his position as a former knight and the bravery it entailed, there was a real chance the man would claim Seasmoke.

The metal shifted again. It was the chain around Seasmoke’s neck. The dragon lifted his head to look at Steffon. His yellow eyes bore into the man. Addam felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

Steffon was leagues braver than he was and set down the torch he’d brought, never breaking eye contact with the dragon. The man stood up and began steadily walking toward Seasmoke. The dragon for all his staring hadn’t moved from his position. His legs were still curled by his side, likely sleeping before the dragonseed arrived. His tail remained still even as the man neared his jaws, showing no visible emotion.

The man was inches away from the dragon’s face. He reached out his hand. Addam was struck by disappointment when it made contact with Seasmoke’s scales. Steffon dragged his hand along Seasmoke’s snout and Addam could only watch in sadness. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way. This was all to serve the queen after all. Yet even though he never met the dragon before, he felt they could have had a connection. Seasmoke was close to the sea despite being a creature of fire, Addam understood that. He lived his whole life in Driftmark and felt he was one with the tides. Of all the dragons, Addam had wanted Seasmoke. It was a stupid thought and he had been a fool to want something that was never his, to begin with. As Ser Criston said, you do not choose a dragon.

Steffon moved away from Seasmoke and turned to the wall. A leather saddle was hooked there. The dragonseed picked up the saddle and approached Seasmoke. As he neared the dragon with the saddle, Addam saw Seasmoke pull his neck away. Seasmoke’s mouth opened. Addam’s stomach twisted violently. Before Addam could yell out a warning, the yellow glow transformed into flames and drowned Steffon in it. A blood-curdling scream erupted from Steffon. The dragon only responded by dousing him with more fire. Addam jumped from behind the corner. It was too late, however. The screaming stopped. Seasmoke closed his jaws. Steffon fell to the ground. His face was burned beyond recognition and his body looked mangled. The saddle landed before Seasmoke. The cave was quiet, all too suddenly. The man was dead.

Addam stood in the entryway; his eyes wavered as he looked at the corpse. A terrified breath escaped his lips. It was too loud in the stillness of the cave. Seasmoke raised his head and looked at him. Addam’s heart was beating in his ears. His breath was trembling now. The dragon stared at him. Yellow eyes bearing into his soul. Then Seasmoke moved against his chains, trying to get closer to him. Addam backed away. Seasmoke kept approaching. The sound of the chains dragging against the dirt snapped him out of it. Addam ran. The metal shifted quickly. His legs moved without thinking. The boy ran toward the exit of the cave. His erratic heartbeat was ringing through all his senses. The chains clanged. It came to an end, and still, Addam kept running. He didn’t stop until the cool air rushed onto his face. It was dark but there were stars above, they let him know he escaped.

Everything he felt collapsed on him. Addam gripped his knees, trying to catch his breath. Slowly, his heart slowed down to where he could breathe normally. His hands ceased to tremble. Then a resounding screech came from the cave. Addam kept his eyes on the cave. He could hear the chains clanging and clashing against their restraints. Yet, nothing came out of the cave. The dragon inside let out another screech, it sounded desperate. Addam stepped away from the entrance. The screeching intensified. Addam left the Dragonmount with the sounds of Seasmoke filling the quiet night. Even when he made it to the tent and covered himself with a thin blanket, he could still hear Seasmoke. As he closed his eyes to sleep, the teenager remained unsure if he was imagining the echoes or not.

The morning sun rose from behind the mysterious volcano of Dragontone. When he woke, the young man stared at the ceiling of the tent. A terrible feeling set in. Addam wasn’t sure anymore. For most of his life, he was the one that his family could count on to be steady. He felt like a ship sinking into the watery abyss. His hands ran through his silver locks. He had the blood of the dragon. He knew this. His mother said so herself. She wouldn’t have allowed them here if she wasn’t sure. Yet… he didn’t feel like someone with the blood of the dragon. Valyrians were supposed to be brave and daring. He didn’t feel it. After what he witnessed with Vermithor, Caraxes, and Seasmoke, Addam felt his confidence wearing down.

Does he truly have what it takes to claim a dragon? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Alyn, however, was sure. His brother rose from his covers and hurriedly put on his clothes, urging Addam to do the same. He reluctantly did so.

“Where are you even going?” Addam mumbled.

“It’s early in the morning, which means the shepherds have the sleep grazing now.”

Addam raised a concerned brow. “You want to claim Sheepstealer?”

Alyn nodded, a glint in his eyes. “He’s the perfect dragon, isn’t he?”

Addam frowned. “He’s a wild dragon. You won’t know how he’ll react.”

“The same goes for the semi-wild ones.”

Addam bit his tongue because his brother had a point.

Alyn turned to him. He gave a lopsided smile. “I know you’re worried, but I have to try, don’t I?”

“I’m going with you,” Addam said firmly.

“That’s fine.” He smirked. “You’ll get to witness me claim my dragon.”

Addam smiled but felt dread building inside him.

Alyn led him out of the tents, however, instead of the volcano they walked toward the open fields. The wet grass held the sweet scent of morning dew. While the morning sun was still shyly hiding behind the clouds, a soft glow was cast over the meadow. Rows of purple flowers bloomed within the mist.

In the distance, Addam saw the delicate wool of sheep. The animals were quietly eating grass with little worry. That was until they flinched. The sheep seemed to become spooked by something and ran off. Addam and Alyn ducked down behind a rock. A shadow loomed over the field. Alyn grinned when a growl came from above.

The ground trembled when something landed in the field. The mist hid the creature but just from seeing the silhouette, Addam knew it was a dragon.

Alyn nudged his side. “Come on let’s get closer.”

“Are you even sure that it’s Sheepstealer?”

“There were sheep, and he came to steal them. Which other dragon could it be?”

“Did you even have a plan or was it just to come here and see what would happen?” Addam turned to look at the dragon. His brows furrowed together. “Wait…who’s that?”

Alyn turned to look. Shock painted his features. Four men were approaching the dragon already.

Alyn grit his teeth. “Damnit! This was my one chance!”

Addam sighed. “It’s fine. We can just wait and if anything, we’ll find you another dragon.”

Alyn snapped. “I don’t want another dragon. I wanted a wild dragon. Grey Ghost hides from everyone and lives where no one can reach him. The Cannibal eats humans and other dragons. Sheepstealer was the one I wanted. There is no other dragon.”

His brother stood up and sprinted toward the dragon. Addam’s eyes widened in horror. “Alyn no!”

The four men and the dragon hadn’t noticed either of them. He tried to run fast but his younger brother kept a better pace than he did. The features of the dragon came into view the closer Addam got. He was a mud brown with a skeletal figure. An odd detail given how many sheep he ate. His scales were different than any dragon he had seen before. Instead of being smooth, his scales were upright almost like small teeth. Spikes went along the back of his neck. Those same spikes were also sticking out of his cheekbones. Even his jaw looked unnatural. The term wild suited him.

One of the men reached out his arm. Addam watched the dragon unhinge its jaw. A snap echoed through the field. Then a scream. Alyn stopped running.

The dragon swallowed something before turning back to the sky.

Addam caught up with his brother who stared where the dragon once was. He felt his skin pricking up as he listened to the man screaming. The other three men tried to help him, but it did little to stop his agony. Addam observed the man. He was gripping his sleeve. His right arm was missing.

Addam stared at the blood dripping out. The only benefit was that the dragon had left him alive. His wound could be sewn back at the camp.

The three men surrounding him helped him to his feet. Addam let out a sigh of relief.

A soft cooing broke through the quiet meadow. Addam glanced around. The gentle call broke out again. It was a small noise. A docile sound.

Addam noticed a shadow approaching the field. The cooing was getting closer. Addam stared at the growing figure. Was Sheepstealer returning?

The question died on his lips as he realized the black wings on the creature. They expanded out farther than the dragon he had seen earlier. Holes were torn into the bottom of the wings, yet it did little to affect its flight. Horns grew out from its head, branching out toward the sky. Two horns bent inward toward his jaw, almost like another set of teeth. The snout was narrow and hollow. Its eyes were as black as coal. The Cannibal.

The ground vibrated as the beast landed in the meadow. His massive jaw opened. The injured man tried to run away. He was too slow. The dragon snapped his jaws shut on the man’s head. He screamed. A snapping sound filled the air. He went silent. The dragon swallowed his body whole. His black eyes shifted over to the remaining three men.

Addam grabbed his brother’s arm and ran. His legs moved hastily as he passed through the grass.

He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder. The three men were running but one was caught. The dragon sunk his teeth into the man’s waist. He shook the man like a dog would a ragdoll and the still-breathing man was screaming. The dragon swallowed him down quickly. The next man had tried running too. His shirt was caught by the Cannibal’s teeth. With a single motion, the dragon threw him up in the air. The dragon opened his mouth and the man fell inside. The last man stared in terror. The Cannibal pinned him down with his wing. His jaws neared the man’s legs. He sunk them into the legs and pulled. Addam heard the most deafening scream he had ever listened to in his life. The legs were torn off while the man was still alive. Blood poured out where he used to have limbs. The bones and muscles stuck out of the body. The man still screaming his lungs out. The Cannibal feasted on the legs, keeping the man pinned down. Once he finished them, the dragon’s wing pressed down on the man’s chest.

The man’s terrified eyes scanned the fields. They landed on Addam. He reached out his arm. Fear in his eyes. “Please! Help me!” He shrieked.

Addam’s stomach turned when he heard a crunch. The man’s chest was caved in. His arm fell to the ground. His dull eyes still staring at him. The Cannibal feasted on him soon after.

Addam hastened his running when the gentle sound came from behind. Alyn began sprinting faster than he did and pulled his older brother to keep pace with him. The grass fields were flat. Empty of any place to hide. Addam then saw the rock they had hidden behind earlier. He made a turn toward the small shelter. The docile sound was steadily approaching.

Addam made a dive toward the rock and landed in front of it. He pushed his back against the rock and brought his knees to his chest. He pulled Alyn close, wrapping an arm around his brother. Alyn was shaking. The call came from above them. Addam saw a shadow looming over them. He blinked a few times. His heart was beating frantically as his hands trembled. The dragon stood over the rock. Addam kept a hand covering his own mouth. He did not trust that his fear wouldn’t get the better of him. The dragon opened his mouth, letting out his docile call. It sent shivers down Addam’s spine. The creature seemed too vicious to have that be its roar.

The dragon realized nothing was being lured by its call and spread its wings. He took off into the sky, his dark figure disappearing into the fog.

Addam slowly removed his hand from his mouth. However, the rest of his body refused to move. Glancing at Alyn, he could see his brother was the same. They stayed there, for how long Addam wasn’t sure. His indigo eyes glanced up at the cloudy sky often, terrified that he would see a black silhouette return. The dragon seemed clever given his deceiving call so Addam wouldn’t put it above the dragon to come back with a vengeance.

They finally left as the sun began to set. They ran and didn't stop until they reached the camp. The dragonseeds were eating dinner when they returned. Neither of them ate. Their appetite was thoroughly ruined. They just walked toward their tent. Alyn collapsed onto his bed with his clothes and boots still on. He covered himself with his blanket and that was that.

Addam sat on a chair. He stared at the ground. Nothing was going through his mind except for one thought. He wasn’t meant for this.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #my writing #fanfic #addam of hull #alyn velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #criston cole #the dance of the dragons #fire and blood #ao3 fanfic #dragonseeds #wild dragons #caraxes #vermithor #seasmoke #the cannibal

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