Tumgik
#dragon fruit jam
Text
A light joke among friends became a complete and utter nightmare beyond human comprehension.
“Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?”
You be the judge of that, for I fear the Fruit Fanatic Komodo will haunt my dreams…
This outfit features:
- Citrus Hat
- Blueberry Earrings
- Banana Necklace
- Giant Fork
- Too Much Corn
- Watermelon Feet
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
As per usual, you’re free to change/adjust anything in this outfit! Creativity is king, and I’d rather not squander your imagination.
So keep creating, and have a good one!
2 notes · View notes
roshni99 · 1 year
Text
 Ever wondered about the hidden powers locked within colorful fruits? Uncover the mystery as we unveil the surprising health benefits they possess. From supercharging your energy to fostering a glowing complexion, let's unlock the treasure trove of nature's delicious gifts! Dive deep into the world of fruit-based nutrition at: www.fruitfulwellness.com Stay tuned for jaw-dropping revelations, fascinating facts, and expert insights. Don't miss out—subscribe for regular updates! Discover more at www.raphacure.com #FruitfulHealthMysteries #UnlockingNature'sSecrets #JuicyHealthRevelations #ExpertPerspectives #FruitfulWellnessJourney #AskTheFruitWhisperers #InformedChoices #StayInformedStayHealthy fruit health benefits dragon fruit health benefits jam fruit health benefits date fruit health benefits macopa fruit health benefits camachile fruit health benefits passion fruit health benefits kerson fruit health benefits dragon fruit health benefits in tamil dragon fruit health benefits in telugu lemon fruit health benefits pepino fruit health benefits baobab fruit health benefits dragon fruit health benefits in kannada health benefits,health,health benefits of fruits,health benefits miracle fruit,benefits,health tips,health benefits of grapefruit,grapefruit health benefits,health benefits of ginger,health benefits of olives,ginger benefits for health,health benefits of eating grapefruit,fruits,ginger health benefits,olives health benefits,benefits of fruit,health benefits of vitamin b12,health benefits of pineapples,health benefits of rhubarb
0 notes
youryanderedaddy · 2 months
Text
Tw: captivity, obsessive behavior, made up fantasy lore, mind fuck (?)
He never calls for you - he only ever sends his servants, poor, confused little creatures of the night once lost just like you. They gather at your door like an army of darkness, scratching and biting at the delicate wooden frame, howling piteously with full chest until you're faced with the choice of either opening the door, or suffocating yourself with the fluffy white pillow. You give in after what feels like an appropriate time - not too soon as to feed his ever - growing ego, yet not so late that the creatures' heads start to roll under your nose.
You slowly walk down the endless corridor, refusing to look at anything for longer than a second - even as it calls to you with the sweetest voice of desire. Everything is enchanted to the very last candle on the wall. The countless paintings depict wealth and opulence beyond your wildest dreams, an adundance of riches upon riches, of honeycomb amber and pure green emeralds. The silk carpet is as soft as a dandelion just before it bursts open, and the crystal chandelier embarks such a soft light the human eye can never properly adjust to the tender shades of yellow and blue. The castle is tempting you with every passing breath - begging you to stay here forever. Begging you to love it, and everyone inside - especially His Majesty, the Lord.
You try to calm your disheveled thoughts as you carefully open the heavy gates to the throne room. Your breath hitches deep into your throat as your eyes gaze upon the feast spread out before you, and suddenly you're starving like a wolf. By now you should know better than to let yourself be lured in by magic - but the pull is too magnetic and you quickly find yourself stepping closer to the piled up table. You take in the smell with unsatiated hunger - golden apples baked inside fine sugar crystals, tender deer fillet dripping with berry sauce and smokey mushrooms, the sort you can only find inside an enchanted forrest. Cream puffs and mountains of stripped ice soaked in jam and vanilla essence upon stacks of fruit and more goblets of red wine than you can count. And yet he remains ever the centerpiece of the vision.
"You're late, mona grece tide*." His voice slowly fills the room with its overbearing softness, always on the verge of dropping into silence. It's painful to look at him - as if everything about the mythical man was created a touch too symmetrical, to the point where the sharp features all blend together. His lips are too full, his eyes - if the golden slits beneath his brows may be called that, are way too bright under the sun, and they reflect a time you don't wish to remember. And his hair is so long and pale, so very white and smooth, you have to stop your hands from reaching into the wounded transparency of his wild locks, less you want to lose a finger or two.
"Tidea." Khaal snaps his finger more aggressively when you don't respond to his call the first time. You squint in an attempt to block the light coming from the tiny cracks in his face - the birth lines of his dragon. "Sit down. Don't make me come to you."
Tide. Tidea. Love, as you eventually learnt the meaning of the word in Lohemian. My little love, the words still rest on his tongue, because what are you if not a small, fragile human?
"I'd hate to inconvenience you so, my Lord." You eventually bite back, breaking out of the trance. Slipping in and out of consciousness and constantly guessing your surroundings is taking a toll on you, but you'll lose your sanity before you give into his madness. "Touching a filthy human like myself will surely sully your pretty golden flakes." You smile with venom, tearing into the nearest sun-pear. He watches the juice drip down your chin with angry narrowed eyes, and with another swift snap of his fingers he's standing before you, towering above.
"Insolent child, you are." He grips your face carelessly, inspecting it from all sides before finally materializing a clean cloth and wiping you clean. "You're foolish just like any other human." His brows twist together with anger, but his expression remains angelic to the untrained eye. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted. The sun at your feet, the moon on your shoulders. All the knowledge of the world." His fingers suddenly stop rubbing along your jawline and his gaze falls upon your cold, quivering lips. "All I ask in return is your loyalty." His sharp nail begins stroking your lower lip. It doesn't draw blood, but you wish it would. You can't stand the anticipation - the moment before the violence entails.
"Don't let your eyes wander. Gift me your warmth." The dragon king pulls you closer to his chest, and all fight leaves you. His form is perfectly defined with thousand metal - like flakes, one on top of the other like a flawless shield. It's probably a great weapon on the battlefield - but it lacks the naked vulnerability of human skin, and it's so cold it hurts to stand close, much less touch it directly. "Look at me!" He suddenly roars, and you fall back from the sheer power of his voice.
Everything hurts - as if the floor is suddenly melting, you feel like you will never stop falling down.
"I can't. It's too painful." You whisper weakly between hoarse broken sobs threatening to tear off your heart in two. "I wasn't made for this world, f-for your... world." You bite your lips, averting eyes to the ground. "Everything in you wants me dead. Your love will kill me." You whimper, squeezing your left hand to your chest. The dead weight of the broken bone is pulling you down, luring you deeper into sleep.
"I'd like to see you try, mon'tidea." He sinks down to your level, quick as a shadow. Stealing a kiss as light as a sparrow, he pushes you down. "Die as many times as you want. You'll always end up here in my arms." His lips are grazing your ear, warm breath hitting your neck. Another illusion, you realize - his body can't create warmth. It's simply reflecting your warmth back to you. "Because once you enter my realm, there's no coming back."
990 notes · View notes
thebirdandthebee · 5 days
Text
Morning Snack | Aemond Targaryen
Tumblr media
This is my first time writing in the House of the Dragon universe, so please be kind! Don't expect perfect historical accuracy - but I just love this character so much.
featuring | Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen x Reader
length | 1k words (a shorty!)
synopsis | You're worried about your shape, and your husband's lack of worry about his.
warnings | 18+ MDNI! Fluff + implied smut
One thing that drove you mad about your husband was just how often he could eat. That is, eat and maintain his lithe figure. Sure, he was in the training yard every day, keeping his shape inadvertently, as it was clear he never once had to think about the harsh pull of a corset, but you were certain he could eat more in one day than some homes ate in a week.
It wasn’t uncommon to see the Prince walking the halls of the Red Keep with an apple in his hand, or reaching for a sweet in his pocket.
Aside from snacks, he would quietly and cleanly go through two, three, sometimes four plates of food at supper - the cook prepping and preparing extra venison just for the second son.
When the two of you would take dinner in your bedchambers, there was often a small, second table brought in to hold plates as they normally would not fit on your given space.
Only once and a while, as you ran into your husband throughout the grounds, would you catch just a crumb or two on his black doublet - a sure sign he’d been ordering shortbread to his meeting room during the day.
Besides the fact that you hadn’t seen his measurements change in the 16 months you’d been betrothed and married, there were no obvious signs of his intake.
Today, as your ladies in waiting braced a foot up on the bedpost to pull your laces tighter and tighter, the sight of Aemond’s keen eye scanning a selection of cheeses from your tea table nearly sent you into a frenzy.
“Thank you,” you grimaced before dismissing your ladies maids for the morning - now that you’d been picked, prodded and parsed away into a cascade of deep emerald velvet.
“Thought I’d join you for tea, my love,” Aemond said quietly, just barely breaking eye contact with the spread of fruit, cured meat and treats alongside the soft cheeses on the hutch near your common area.
“Oh really? Because you missed my company?” You supplied, striding across the room, sure you could feel your ribs straining beneath the whelped whale bone stitched into your garments.
“I always enjoy your company, sweet wife,” Aemond assured, raising his look to meet yours, but hand still hovering over a particularly ripe looking apricot.
“Are you sure you aren’t just here for the tea? I can excuse myself so you can be alone with your meal,” you tossed him a look that he nearly missed because he was sure he saw his favorite jam preserves tucked into the display that he hadn’t seen available for a few weeks.
“Mm?” He asked, turning his head to look up at you one more time.
“You make me mad, do you know that?” You asked, coming to stand in front of him with a small furrow between your brows.
“Mad?” Aemond asked, tossing a small berry into his mouth.
“You are here for the food!” You all but snarled, causing his brow to lift just slightly in surprise. 
“Is something the matter?” He asked, turning his shoulders squarely to face you.
“You get to eat and eat and eat all day long,” you huffed, turning and crossing the room once again to pour a glass of incensed water into your empty cup. “How can you eat so much and yet your body never changes? Not even a bit?” You asked. 
Aemond was at a loss for words. He was certain he didn’t eat that much.
“If I have one more sweet than veg at dinner, I can feel on my thighs for the next six weeks!” You knew you were bordering on hysteria at this point. “I watched you eat six tarts last night.” You pointed an accusatory finger at your husband. “Six!”
“They were very good tarts, plums are finally back in season,” Aemond countered, not sure why his little wife was throwing a fit over his tea.
You crossed the rooms again, cradling his sharp jaw in your hands, arms accounting for the height difference between you two.
“I am deeply in love with you, and I deeply resent how you can maintain your figure and eat until your heart’s content,” you said sternly. Aemond noted the slight sweetness of honeysuckle on your breath. “I am… envious,” you admitted softly.
“I assure you,” Aemond began, “your body leaves me wanting for nothing,” he informed. “I’m quite attached to all parts of it and hope none of them disappear,” he said, unruffled by your outburst.
“Well they will,” you huffed, dropping your arms and placing your hands on your waist. “I need to shed these hips and thighs, so I’m telling cook no more sweets at dinner or tea,” you said pointedly, turning away from your husband and crossing the room again to grab your cloak.
“No sweets?” Aemond’s face reflected an expression of disgust. “That simply won’t work for me,” he replied. 
“No sweets,” you reiterated. Aemond set down the halved peach he’d absentmindedly picked up as you were speaking and strode across the room, placing his hands on your waist over your clock.
“My love, I need my sweets the same way I need you,” he murmured in your ear, causing you to puff out a sarcastic laugh.
“Oh really? You can’t live without them?” You asked, spinning in his hold.
Aemond took a deep breath, drawing his arms tightening around you as he spoke with clear authority.
“Your hips and thighs happen to be my favorite bits,” he began, “and if you take them from me the same way you plan to take my sweets, I will take it as a personal affront.”
“Aemond, the other ladies of court - ”
“Frankly, I don’t care about the other ladies of court and neither should you,” he interrupted. “You are a Princess and if anything, they should strive to be more like their rulers.” He held a finger to your lips. “Now that I’ve finished my snack, let me move on to my next favorite thing to eat."
-
-
Please let me know if you'd be interested in reading any more Aemond content :)
331 notes · View notes
dunmeshistash · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dungeon Meshi - "Dungeon Meals" from volumes 1 to 4
More info under the cut
Decided to compile the dungeon meals anyway. These are from chapter 1 to 28 (Volumes 1 to 4)
There were a total of 24 "meals" (counting the special panels) in the 28 chapters. Meal is anything that gets the named panel, so kelpie soap giant frog suit and Falin skeleton count (cause that's funny). I'm using EHScans pages because they have a better resolution usually (and for consistency)
Anyway here's the meals of each chapter and who made them.
Chapter 1 - Hot pot Meal: Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom Hot Pot Cooked by: Mostly Senshi but Laios started it.
Chapter 2 - Tart Meal: Man-Eating Plant Tart Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 3 - Roast Basilisk Meal: Roast Basilisk Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 4 - Omelet Meal: Mandrake & Basilisk Omelet Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 5 - Kakiage Meal: Mandrake Kakiage & Giant Bat Tempura Cooked by: Senshi and Chilchuck
Chapter 7 - Living Armor II Meal: Living Armor Full Course Meal, consisting of: Dwarf-Style Stir Fry, Steamed Living Armor, Living Armor Soup and Grilled Living Armor Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)
Chapter 8 - Simmered Cabbage Meal: Vegetable Lunch, Fresh off the Golem Fields, consisting of: Simmered Whole Cabbage and Turnip Salad. Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)
Chapter 9 - Orcs Meal: Stolen Vegetables, Simmed Cabbage & Chicken with a side of Plundered Bread Cooked by: Senshi, Marcille, Laios, Chilchuck, Zon and other Orc Ladies
Chapter 10 - Snacks Meal: All Natural♡Delicious Treasure Bug Snacks, consisting of: Treasure Bug Nest Jam, Coin Bug Crackers and Pearl Centipede Skewers Cooked by: Senshi (Laios helped by.. watching)
Chapter 11 - Sorbet Meal 1: Deluxe♪Multicultural Holy Water Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Protective Ward! Spirit Dispelling Sorbet Cooked by: Senshi and Laios
Chapter 12 - Palace Cuisine Meal: Palace Cuisine Full Course Meal, consisting of: Sautéed Fish with Soybeans, Pumpkin Soup, Fruit, Golden Wheat Bread, Golden cow Cheese and Roast Duck Cooked by: Palace Cooks? Painter? Magic?
Chapter 13 - Boiled in Salt Water Meal: Boiled Mimic Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 14 - Kelpie "Meal": Kelpie Tallow Soap Cooked by: Marcille
Chapter 15 - Porridge Meal: Zosui Made from Dropped Barley Cooked by: Laios
Chapter 16 - Broiled with Sauce Meal: Giant Parasite from Giant Kraken: Grilled Plain and Kabayaki Style Cooked by: Senshi (Laios Helped with prepping the skewers and ate one raw and suffered)
Chapter 18 - Grilled Meat Meal: Grilled Kelpie Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 19 - Tentacles "Meal": Tentacles With Vinegar Dressing Cooked by: Namari (with Laios instructions)
Chapter 20 - Stew Meal: Tentacle & Kelpie Stewed in an Undine Cooked by: Marcille (With Senshi's help)
Chapter 21 - Giant Frogs Meal 1: Tentacle Gnocchi Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Frog Suit Cooked by: Laios and Chilchuck
Chapter 23 - Red Dragon I Meal: Let's Cutlet the Dragon to Pieces! Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 27 - Red Dragon V "Meal": Falin & Warg Skelletons Cooked by: Laios & Marcille (Red Dragon helped clean up the bones really well)
Chapter 28 - Red Dragon VI Meals: Roast Red Dragon, Pizza Bread with Onions and Dragontail Soup Cooked by: Senshi
The chapters that had no "meal is done" panel were chapters
6 - Living Armor I
17 - Raspberries
22 - Above Ground
24 - Red Dragon II
25 - Red Dragon III
26 - Red Dragon IV
Mostly the multipart chapters, there was food eaten in 17 and 22 but no special panel for them, 17 is the titular raspberries and 22 the barmaids serve them a meal they eat right at the end
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The chapter with more than one "meal" panels (not more than one meal prepared just more than one special panel for the meals) were:
11 - Sorbet with Holy Water and Sorbet
21 - Giant Frog with Gnocchi and Frog Suit
And the party stats are:
Senshi: 17 meals cooked, all of them food
Chilchuck: 3 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was a Frog Suit
Marcille: 4 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was soap and 1 of them was Falin skeleton reconstruction. She made the soap by herself and the stew mostly by herself
Laios: 5 "meals" cooked , 3 of them were food, 1 of them was a frog suit and 1 was Falin skeleton reconstruction. He also helped with 4 other meals (kinda) and 1 of them he made by himself (The zosui)
Out of the 24 meals in these 4 volumes, 21 were food and 3 were "other"
Out the 21 food meals Senshi made 17 of them, Laios made 1 Marcille made 1 and the other 2 was Namari and Living Painting Cooks.
I often get confused with numbers so if I said anything wrong feel free to correct me! Might do less volumes for the next post we'll see
393 notes · View notes
ichore · 1 month
Text
STUDY OF A SCANDAL | NEUVILLETTE
Tumblr media
synopsis: a starving journalist, the iudex of fontaine and reader, the most talented soprano of teyvat all attend a ball at the opera epiclese where one scandal follows another as a storm does not allow anyone to leave.
tags, warnings: heavy drugs (aphrodisiac, ecstasy), involuntary drug consumption, neuvillette x afab!reader, reader is a talented singer, reader is secretly a water creature as old as Neuvi, MONSTER FUCKING, Neuvillette's takes reader in semi dragon form, journalist is a pos, cunnilingus, p -> v, unprotected, oh the consequences
wc: est 3.3k
Tumblr media
It begins with a tear rolling down on the porcelain skin of the Iudex of Fontaine's full cheek.
As you stand tall all alone on the platform of the Opera Epiclese, not a shred of whisper or mumble leaves the people of the water nation - it's only your voice that vibrates in between their bodies, it crawls at the high walls and crimson drapes and threatens to never leave. You've sung these songs many times across all of Teyvat; you're considered an Honored Guest wherever you decided to set foot. But your heart belongs to Fontaine, and such is evident in the way your gaze lingers on its people ahead of you.
Then, as if it's supposed to be part of your show, as the last note of your last song bubbles in your throat, a clash of thunders shakes the building.
The Melusines are quick on their short legs to inform everyone to stay inside, and whereas there's no need to worry, it would be best if everyone waited in the Opera Epiclese until the storm ended. Curses and hisses rumble across the people meanwhile the Iudex of Fontaine leaves his seat and his noiseless steps carry him to his office. It's only you who notices how his shoulders rise and fall in the familiar motion of weeping, how his cloth napkin soaks in the tears that escape him despite his greatest effort to soothe himself. 
“If it's fine with everyone,” you begin with your voice exhausted and slightly croak from your show. “I have enough cakes and fruits to invite everyone for a spontaneous little ball to spend the time. I'm sure my colleagues would love to entertain you with their music, as well.”
The storm is almost like a gift to you: finally you don't have to worry about wasting all the precious food that people gift you. Usually you give the majority away for the poor, but because finding such families takes time, a good amount still spoils. Such kindness in your heart is the second reason Teyvat adores you, and that same tenderness makes you rush after the Iudex with your dress held a bit higher in your fists so you don't trip.
“Excuse me?” you hear a nervous male voice call out to you, and you reluctantly stop in your tracks to offer a smile to the journalist standing ahead of you. He's skinny, too skinny to be healthy, you think. His hair crown is already fading from the top of his head, the lilac bruise of exhaustion rests under his eyes, but you suppose that he cannot be more than thirty.
“I'm happy to give you an interview later. I'm rather busy with something right now, I hope you don't mind.” you say.
“No, not at all. I just wanted to give you this.” He pulls out a heart-shaped, crimson silk wrapped box from under his arm. Chocolate, more food, great. “I know what you're thinking, but this is the Iudex's favorite and the filling is the finest Valberry jam from Mondstadt. It's very hard to get a box of these nowadays.”
“Oh, my,” you fill your heart sink at the thought of the trouble this poor man went through just to please you, and the furrow of your brow lets him know that you're sold before you take away the box. “I can't thank you enough. Is it okay with you if I share it with the Iudex? You mentioned it's also his favorite.”
“Well, yes, of course. Please enjoy. But I suppose you're in a hurry, so I shall leave you to it.” he bows as he takes your free, white silk cloaked hand and presses your knuckles against his chapped lips. “It was a pleasure meeting you. You're just as beautiful and kind as the rumors say so.”
“Thank you, once again.” you bob a quick curtsy to him before leaving him behind. He watches the white, lacy patterns on the bottom of your turquoise dress wash against the floor as you continue your hurried steps to one Melusine to another to find Monsieur Neuvillette. A smirk deepens at the side of his mouth as he watches you open the box and eat the first piece of chocolate while you wait to be let into his office, and he's already thinking about just how many good pictures he's going to take of you and the Iudex.
A shiver runs across your spine, gooseflesh blooms on your skin when you finally stand ahead of Neuvillette. He's facing his high windows, taking in the view of the year's most brutal storm: trees are bending and breaking, the wind carries away the flowers of the streets and he notices some personal possessions fly across the asphalt. As the Iudex, he's already thinking about how to fix this mess. But as Neuvillette, he can't stop his body from shaking.
“Apologies for leaving without a word. Your show was most exquisite … it touched my soul in ways I cannot find the words to describe.” The tremble in his voice is enough for you to understand the waves of emotions that wash through him.
“Don't worry, Monsieur. Knowing my music has these effects on such a great man like yourself is a compliment on its own. I will remember it for the rest of my life with pride.” Despite him having his back facing you, you can see on the reflection of the window that his usually bright gaze is darker and they're fixated on your form. You offer a slight curtsy, and you swear it's only a long second that you close your eyes for, yet when you lift your chin, he's standing closer to you with his face ahead of yours. He's so close, you can smell the lavender oil the Melusines treat his luscious hair with and the sea salt that they use to wash his clothes.
“And proud is what you should be,” he begins. “It's been a long time since I've felt such an emotional turmoil. Yet, I don't think the language you sing in is familiar to me.”
“It's a dead language,” you nod. Your fingers begin to play with the material of your dress at your sides. “My mother taught it to me when I was little. I know phrases and words, but I can't tell you where the language is from or who used it.”
“No one else speaks this language, yet you manage to touch all of Teyvat with it. You're a real talent, and it's been my pleasure to have you visit our nation.” 
“Oh, it's been a pleasure more of mine, really.” You flash your pearly white teeth at him in a smile, and you swear that at the same second, from his window, you can see the storm lose its vigor and turn into a windless pour of rain. “I just wanted to check upon you, and share this box of chocolate with you at the same time if it's fine with you. A kind gentleman gave this to me saying that this is your favorite.”
“Strange, I can't recall ever seeing, let alone tasting such a dessert from Mondstadt.” He hums against the side of his index finger while musing. In the back of your mind, you already know that someone would lie about such a thing, but a strange, hurricane-like sensation washes across you as you stare at the man towering right ahead of you. The distinct color of his eyes, the ivory color of his healthy locks, the perfect pale skin are all calling to you for a touch, and you press your thighs together as your liquid desire begins to swell in between your folds. “How was it?”
“I'm sorry, what was the question?” you shake your head and laugh a little to be able to tear your stare away from him. The heat is already rising to your head, painting your cheeks rosy with a deep blush.
“I can see you already ate one. Was it to your liking?” the vibrations of his voice are more apparent, you realize, and it pains you that you can't swallow them in a kiss right now.
“Yes, Monsieur. I think it's quite nice. Has a little bit of a strange aftertaste, but otherwise it's delicious. The Valberry jam filling is extraordinary. ”
“Please, call me Neuvillette,” he returns your smile as he takes one of heart shaped chocolates into his mouth before he motions towards the couch, insisting that you sit down while he places the box on his table. “It's delicious indeed. I suppose I can trust your judgment when it comes to sweets in the future.”
“Thank you, Neuvillette.” You whisper. Sweat already begins to pearl at your hairline and on your nape by the time he takes off his cloak and his weight sinks into the couch so painfully close to you, you can feel his thigh brush against yours through your dress. 
“If it isn't too much to ask,” he begins. “Can you tell me what the story is behind your last song?”
“Well… it's a love story. A tragic one.” his colors appear brighter and clearer with each passing second, his icy appearance calling to you for a release from this burning that consumes you within. You can't look him in the eyes anymore, you realize while watching your fingers get lost in the vibrant color of your skirt. “It's about two lovers who were washed apart by the Archons and the primordial sea, never to see each other again, forced to spend their entire lives yearning for the other. But one day, they meet, but one doesn't remember the other anymore.”
“Sounds Fontanian,” Neuvillette muses as he loosens the knot on his scarf, revealing his swan-like neck to you. “Apologies, it's awfully hot in here today.”
“No worries,” you offer a smile, but the first sweat drop already begins to roll down on your temple and in your thoughts, you're mumbling thousands of curses at how tight your corset is. Yet, you do not find yourself wishing for air, but yearning to steal it from Neuvillette’s lungs. “My mother was from Fontaine, so it does make sense that the language originated from somewhere here.”
“Makes it even stranger that I can't recall hearing it before, however - ” 
“Neuvillette …I,” you cut into his words, hesitating to continue your words, but you're certain that you're edging closer and closer to fainting if you don't get some air soon. “It's very unethical of me to ask you, but would you be so kind as to loosen my corset for me a little?”
“Of course,” and the moment you touch his reached out hand to help you stand up, you wish you could tell him that it doesn't matter anymore and that you just need to go outside. But the rain is still pouring and the haze on your mind refuses to leave. The touch of his fingers are ever so delicate and delicious as they open the back of your dress to get to your corset. Your neck tilts and a sigh leaves your lips as the pressure on your ribs eases, and in your moment of relief, you don't notice Neuvillette's halt in his movements.
The sight of the crook of your neck invites him in for a kiss as his arms circle around your waist under your dress - at first, his touches are unsure, but as a satisfied hum leaves you, his arms tighten around you and his kisses travel from your neck to your jaw. Your eyelashes flutter when your gaze meets his, as if to give him permission to his begging eyes, that yes, he can very much kiss you. His lips feel like the sweetest sea foam: so delightful and gentle, and you can finally feel your lungs be filled with his being. You push your dress down, making it pool around your feet while Neuvillette's hands brush up on your belly to reach the front of your corset before pushing it off you and letting it fall on the dress. 
“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, and you feel his cock twitch against your ass as he begins to fondle your breasts. He swallows every whimper that escapes your lips when he takes each of your nipples in between his fingers, playing a rough game with them. “I adore your voice, the noises you make. The thought of making you sing in pleasure for me is driving me mad. Please, let me make you mine.”
“I'm yours, all yours,” you're ready to beg for more, but as if he can read your thoughts, he lays you across the couch before he frees you of your panties, panty hoes and shoes. For a brief second, you can hear a clicking sound from the distance, but the desire entirely engulf you both that you don't notice the barely open entrance door and the journalist with his camera. If this all wasn't for him being able to put bread on his table, he would've admitted that there is something magical about the way Neuvillette's tongue finds all the right spots in your cunt. It really does make a sensational picture: the Iudex of Fontaine devouring Teyvat's most famous soprano like his life depends on it.
But for Neuvillette, that feeling is as real as your hands holding onto his ivory hair. For a while, he wondered what got into him, but his words to you were true and the sounds that escape you makes him throw away every logical reasoning as to why he shouldn't suck on your clit or push his tongue so deep into you that it makes you cry out. 
“Right there, hng, please -” his eyes that were fixated on you the whole time now roll back as he feels the gush of your ecstasy pour into his mouth. He can't help, but get rid of his own clothes in fast but drunken movements, and he's ready to get back on top of you before something feral awakens in him. It's the glowing of his irises that you notice first between your thighs, then you swear that you can see his tongue stretch and part into two at its tip while his suddenly longer nails rake across your sides. This time, he's eating at you with primal hunger while one of his grip finds his growing cock and strokes it in the same fast rhythm his tongue dances inside you. You scream, you squirm, but it only makes him become all the more fast and rough as his upper lip rubs against your clit.
“What the fuck,” the journalist mumbles under his breath, his eyes widening in terror as Neuvillette's lower body grows navy blue scales, a forked tail emerges from the end of his spine and his dick is becoming dark and enormous enough that seemingly only the tip would be enough to fill you up. With shaky hands, he takes a picture.
“So it is you, hng, fuck-” you try to tell Neuvillette as another, but more powerful climax numbs your mind. Your heart flutters at the man standing ahead of you, and your love is the only thing that helps you think straight. “I've been looking for you my whole life, Hydro Dragon, my love.” 
“You're not terrified…” Neuvillette notes, his chest sinking with a sigh of relief before he questions what you said to him. It's an animalistic instinct that makes him kneel between your legs, rubbing his entire length across your folds to coat it in the mixture of his spit and your sticky juices. A whimper leaves your lips each time his thick head threatens to push into your entrance. “You're not human either, are you?”
“No,” you say simply as green scales begin to form on your thighs where Neuvillette is stroking you before they disappear again. Fighting your lavender haze of lingering orgasm, you sit up to take his tip in your palm to rub it for him as you continue. “I'm a siren. So don't worry, I can take this.”
“The song…” his brows furrow as you position his cock against your pussy, and begin to push yourself against it. It's painfully slow: he can feel every crook and cany of your insides, the blood in your veins welcoming him, the very wetness and warmth of you swallowing him so eagerly until his balls meet your ass. He shudders.
“It's about us, my love. You forgot about me.” You moan as you feel your insides adjust to his size. No matter how many human lovers you took over the millennium, no one and nothing ever compares to Neuvillette.
“Forgive me,” his lizard-like tongue dances along with yours as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up into the air. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms hold him in a sweaty embrace as he begins to slowly pull you up and down on the length of his cock. “Forgive me.”
“It was never your fault, hng, please go faster.” you beg of him as you look down at the sight of the two of you. His legs are of a dragon, his black claws digging at the wooden floor to hold himself in place as he begins to pick up the pace.
“I remember this,” he whispers as he loses himself in the feeling of you wraps around his entire being: your sound, your smell, your eyes. He remembers it all now, and his thrusts become rougher as if he feels angry at all the years you didn't spend together. Not only did they take you from him, they didn't even leave the memory of you. Tears begin to pour from his eyes as he kisses you again, his arms tighten around you and his thrusts become sloppy, but the clenching of your orgasm pushes him over his own pinnacle and he paints your walls white with his seed.
“Don't cry, my love,” you stroke his hair while his tears fall on your collarbone after he gently places you on the couch and he lays on top of you, his body slowly transforming back to human. “We found each other, that's all that matters.”
“What about you? Your loneliness? Your fright?” his voice shakes, and you can hear another powerful wind jerk at the buildings outside.
“I've always known we'd find our way back to each other. When I was lonely, I always recalled nights like this or when you were crying because of a song about a fish family when my parents invited you over to their coral palace. I've always remembered the kindness of your heart, and I carried it with me as my companion.” you comfort him and a smile tugs at your lips as the gray clouds begin to part on the sky, and the sunlight seeps through. You think about asking Neuvillette if he wants to check on the guests, but you find him with his eyes closed and deep in a slumber.
As you are trapped beneath him and you can't hear music anymore, you suppose that everyone else already left and you can also rest.
Until you hear the click sound of a camera.
“Needless to say, you're fired,” the Chief Editor of Steambird doesn't even bother to open the envelope that contains the erotic pictures of Neuvillette and you before she tears it into shreds. “Drugging the Iudex AND a Teyvat famous star? What were you even thinking? Hell, I even doubt you were thinking at all.”
“But…” the journalist begins, but the Editor holds up her hand to halt his words.
“You're to leave this company effective immediately. And if I were you, I'd be crawling on my knees to Monsieur Neuvillette for an apology and a huge thank you for not having you executed for treason.”
And with two boxes of worthless papers and without a penny in his pocket, the only mortal who knows your love story and your true being becomes your enemy.
167 notes · View notes
dhampling · 8 months
Text
bramble jam girl!dadstarion, <1k
Tumblr media
“I thought it’d be nice! Everyone likes jam!” “In what realm would we need this much jam?” - (x reader) christening this most inaugural of dadstarion fridays with the most fang-rottingly sweet fluff i could muster. enjoy! w/c: 700+
He kneels next to her with a pensive furrow, the critical moment; small wooden spoon in hand nudging little closed lips smeared already in a sticky purple. 
Bated breath. 
Astarion taps as her mouth remains closed. She looks at him with the same half-baked incredulous look he gives you - a firm ‘no’, with notes of why would you even ask me to do this, you freak?
“Come on! It’s delicious. Look!”
He lifts the spoon to his own mouth and pokes his tongue just past his lips, darting briefly into the bizarre gloop. 
The resulting wince is priceless. It tastes of nothing to him; of cinders and dead syrup. The wobble of a smile as he aims to convince her that whatever the spoon yields is lovely wrapped in a deeply unsatisfied ‘mmm’. 
Looks at him with genuine disgust. She’s too perceptive. 
Behind his back the kitchen sits a picture of disarray - spattered in bramble pulp and dotted with various wooden stirrers, bubbling cauldron atop the stove, littered granules of sugar now crystalline on both the countertop and your floor. 
“What is this?” You break your cover, his head whipping round to find yours sheepishly.
“I made jam! She won’t eat it.” 
A feeble quirk of his lips. Whoopsie! 
“Why would she eat plain jam?”
“Why wouldn’t she! Yummy jam! Yum!” He speaks in a sing-song lilt, cracking in sleep-deprivation.
“Why have you used all my brambles on said jam?”
The tar-like brew looks awful. Thick and dark, smelling of dark sugar and burnt lemon. He winces once more.
“I thought it’d be nice! Everyone likes jam!”
“In what realm would we need this much jam?”
The shoulders sag and he stands from his kneel, tilting his head to look at her and putting the spoon on the bare table. You fight the instinct to roll your eyes knowing full well he won’t be the one wiping the sticky spot later.
“I don’t know! Jam!”
Hands wide around his head, a tired smile wracked with mirth. Eyes round.
He tried. He really did try. Recipe book pages open on the side now splattered with maroon fruit juice. The air is thick with the smell of sugar. You take a spoon from the silverware drawer and try a little straight from the pan, blowing the purple globule to cool it; and it isn’t bad in the slightest. 
Not particularly good, granted, but he’s neglected the aromatics - you presume because his target audience is just breaching a year old. You clear your throat in preparation for the most saccharine baby voice you can muster.
“Little love! Look!” 
You take the spoon from Astarion and suckle on the cool jam, smiling animatedly and nodding in visible contentment. A joyous ‘mmm’. 
She watches on with genuine awe. Nods along. Her own attempt at a ‘mmm’ sounding more like a kitten mewl. Chubby fingers reaching for your spoon in little bunny bounces until her face looks to be on the verge of crumpling with want.
He watches on in amazed resent, eyes soft. 
“She can tell you don’t like it. That’s why she doesn’t want it.” 
You refill her spoon from the pot and blow over it for a minute or two while he lifts her gently from the ornate baby chair and brings her little form over. 
“That was witchcraft. I’m calling in on the nearest guild of mage-breakers first thing, you know.” He whispers as she burbles and reaches out for your warm hands. You press a small kiss to the high of his cheekbone. 
She grabs messily for the spoon as you bring it to her lips. Opens wide in anticipation of ‘the red dragon’; one of the smallest seeds on top of the gloopy pile christened after Lae’zel with both you and Astarion wailing in mock horror as she eats your long-time friend. Her little laugh is like a singing bell, the messy flicks of her tongue as she relishes the taste and bounces in his arms.
“No. She simply just reveres you. Why would she eat something if she knows you don’t like it? Clearly something of a tastemaker in those little eyes.” You smile at him with a slow blink.
He looks to you and back to her with the warmth of a Kythorn highsun. Rests his head atop yours.
302 notes · View notes
fanficapologist · 3 months
Text
Of Dragons and Maelstroms
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Tumblr media
Chapter Eighty-Five
The next morning, dawn broke gently over Dragonstone, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. Outside, the sea was calm, the distant calls of seabirds the only sounds punctuating the stillness.
Maera woke up with a stretch, feeling the child within her wriggling around uncomfortably. She couldn't help but think of her mother, Lady Gael, during the late stages of her final pregnancy —how large and unsettled she had always seemed. Sitting up slowly, Maera's eyes were drawn to the chaise at the foot of the bed. There, Aemond lay with his feet propped up, his boots removed. His straight silver hair flowed freely, having been undone from its usual restraint. Most notably, he had removed his eyepatch, and his sapphire eye gleamed in the dawn’s early light.
As Maera shifted out of bed, Aemond immediately opened his eye, sitting up straight and looking at her. He had always been a light sleeper. They shared a moment of silent communication, their eyes locked as if they both knew what was on each other’s minds. The question hung unspoken in the air: Would this day bring forth a new alliance, or would more blood be spilled? Without words, the weight of their shared responsibilities and uncertainties pressed upon them, the quiet morning a brief reprieve before the potential storm of the day ahead.
The servants moved quickly to ready the royal couple for the day. Aemond insisted on an early meeting with Hugh and Ulf, despite knowing how much wine the dragonseeds had consumed the previous night. Maera was certain the men would not appreciate an early awakening, but Aemond's urgency allowed no room for delay.
None of Maera’s nor Aemond’s belongings had arrived yet, aside from the dragon egg that rested in a pot on the hearth, which Aemond had brought with him. The servants dressed them in what they could find within the castle. These clothes were not tailored for them, necessitating various pins and adjustments to hold them in place on bodies they were not meant for.
For Aemond, they found Prince Daemon’s clothes to be more his style. However, the King Consort was much broader in the shoulders, and the vests did not fit him properly. Instead, the servants provided him with old garments of Prince Jacaerys, though it took a considerable amount of time to find something that was purely black. The fit was not perfect, but it sufficed for the day.
Maera, too, was given borrowed clothes. Thanks to the size of Rhaenyra’s brood, she had many options to choose from. The servants dressed her in a long black chiffon robe that fit her like a glove and was comfortable to move around in. The soft fabric accommodated her swollen belly, offering some relief from the discomfort of her pregnancy. As they finished dressing, Aemond and Maera exchanged a glance, each understanding the underlying tension of the day ahead.
Breakfast was brought into their room with an elaborate display. Silver platters were carried in by a procession of servants, laden with freshly baked bread, golden butter, and various jams. There were plates of sliced fruits—apples, pears, and berries—alongside bowls of nuts and dried figs. A centerpiece of roasted ham glistened, flanked by smaller dishes of boiled eggs and cured meats. A large pot of steaming tea and a pitcher of chilled water were placed on the table, accompanied by delicate porcelain cups and glasses.
Maera and Aemond sat opposite one another, quietly sipping their tea. The silence between them was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, a reflection of the impasse their marriage had reached after all they had endured. Aemond was making an effort, or at least trying to try, but the weight of their shared history loomed heavily.
The chamber doors suddenly burst open, and in stomped the dragonseeds. The aftermath of the previous night's indulgence was evident in their appearance. Ulf looked particularly pale, his face drawn and colorless, while Hugh shielded his eyes from the intrusive morning light, squinting as he entered the room. Their heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber, breaking the fragile morning calm.
Maera greeted the dragonseeds cheerily, raising her teacup in their direction. "Good morrow, my lords," she said with a bright smile, her voice cutting through the tension. Aemond, however, merely scowled, his expression a stark contrast to his wife's warmth. The dragonseeds skulked over to the table, their movements sluggish and eyes bleary. Eventually, they collapsed into their chairs with heavy sighs.
Maera, still smiling, presented each of the men with a glass of raw eggs mixed with garlic. "A remedy from my brothers at Rain House," she explained. "They swear by it for a miraculous recovery after a night of indulgence."
Hugh smiled at her adoringly, his purple eyes lighting up despite his obvious discomfort. Without hesitation, he grabbed the glass and gulped down the drink, slamming the empty vessel down on the table with a satisfied grunt. Remnants of egg clung to his thick curly dark beard, giving him a rather unkempt appearance.
Ulf, on the other hand, seemed hesitant. He eyed the glass warily, glancing at Hugh for reassurance. Seeing Hugh apparently unharmed and even invigorated, Ulf finally lifted his glass and drank the contents. His face contorted briefly in disgust, but he managed to swallow it all, placing the glass back on the table with a relieved sigh.
A heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery and the occasional clearing of a throat from the steward. The atmosphere grew tense, laden with unspoken words and uncertain futures. No one seemed eager to break the stillness and address the matter at hand.
Eventually, Aemond set down his cutlery with a deliberate motion, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. His piercing gaze swept over the dragonseeds. "Have you come to a decision?" he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.
Hugh was quick to respond. "We spent the night talking it through," he said, smiling at Maera. She held her breath, her heart pounding as she waited to see if his eager response was positive or merely the prelude to a boast.
Maera's green eyes flicked to the pale-haired Ulf, who drummed his fingers against the table. He looked between Maera and Aemond before asking, "Horn Hill and Harrenhall?", alluding to the suggestion the Princess had made the previous night.
Before Aemond could respond, Maera interjected, her voice steady. "We swear by the Old Gods and the New." She glanced at Aemond, who nodded in agreement, his expression firm.
Ulf then uttered the words Maera had been hoping for. "We accept the proposed terms."
The Princess let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Relief washed over her. For now, at least, there would be no need for violence. She nodded respectfully towards Ulf before reaching out and squeezing Hugh’s hand with a smile, much to Aemond’s discomfort.
"How wonderful," she said, her voice light with relief. "I thank the Gods that today will not be a day of bloodshed." She then turned and smirked at Aemond, adding, "A shame for Vhagar and Ēbrion though."
Aemond couldn't help but smile at her jest, his stern demeanor softening just a bit. Ulf, however, rolled his eyes before asking, "What do you expect of us now, Prince Aemond?"
The one-eyed Prince ran his finger around the edge of his glass thoughtfully. "The same as you were told before.” he replied. "Go to Tumbleton."
Maera furrowed her brow at this, confusion flickering in her green eyes. Aemond elaborated, “Instead of defending the town, allow the Greens in to seize it, granting us greater stability in the Reach.”
Hugh’s agreement came with an eager nod, his large frame almost vibrating with anticipation. Ulf, on the other hand, took a moment longer, drumming his fingers against the table before finally nodding in consent. The strategy was clear and would serve their cause effectively. The tension in the room began to ease as the dragonseeds accepted their roles, their expressions shifting from cautious uncertainty to determined resolve. The room, once fraught with the potential for violence, now hummed with a shared purpose.
After they finished their meal, Maera glanced around the room, taking in the attending servants and guards. The thought gnawed at her: surely her most trusted advisors had journeyed to the Capital after their Queen, but what of those remaining at Dragonstone? She did not wish to risk any further spies or assassination attempts. Perhaps if they swore to recognize Aemond as the Regent and Maelor as the true King, they would see it was the right path for the Realm.
Maera looked at her husband, her expression thoughtful. "There may be others here that would swear to the Greens' cause, my Prince," she said softly. Aemond cocked his head, considering her words. Maera urged him, "Give the occupants an opportunity to declare their loyalties."
Aemond then scanned the room, his sharp purple eye focusing on each face of the servants attending them. The early morning light streamed in through the windows, casting a pale glow on his chiseled features.
His eye, keen and discerning, moved slowly from one servant to the next, as if he could see into their very souls. His face, illuminated by the soft dawn light, appeared both regal and formidable, the lines of worry and determination etched deeply into his skin.
After a moment of tense silence, Aemond nodded. "Very well," he said, his voice low and commanding. He turned to one of the guards and issued the order, "Call all within the castle to the western beach."
The guard bowed deeply before hurrying out of the room to carry out the command. Maera felt a sense of anticipation build within her. This was a pivotal moment, and the actions they took now could solidify their power and ensure the loyalty of those who served them.
Tumblr media
The volcanic beach on Dragonstone was a stark and dramatic landscape. The black sand stretched out in a coarse, grainy expanse, glittering like onyx under the early morning light. Waves crashed violently against the rugged, rocky terrain, sending plumes of white spray into the air. The scent of salt and sulfur mingled, carried by the brisk wind that whipped across the shore. Jagged cliffs loomed on either side, their dark, craggy faces carved by centuries of relentless waves and volcanic activity.
Gathered on this beach was a large crowd, the castle's inhabitants drawn by the summons. Their faces displayed a mix of emotions—confusion, agitation, and fear. The servants and lesser courtiers glanced around nervously, whispering among themselves, their expressions betraying their uncertainty about what this sudden assembly might portend.
Among the gathering, the castle guards stood in disciplined rows, their stances rigid and alert. Their allegiances were not immediately clear; some bore the colours of Rhaenyra’s cause with pride, while others seemed more apprehensive, their eyes darting about as if weighing their options and assessing the situation.
All watched in anticipation as the one-eyed Prince, his wife, and the two dragonseeds approached them from the high stone bridge. The bridge, worn and ancient, seemed to groan under their purposeful strides. As they descended onto the volcanic beach, Aemond and Maera made their way to the front of the gathered onlookers. The Prince, tall and imposing, stepped onto a large rock, elevating himself to be seen by all. His wife, Maera, stood beside him on the sand, flanked by Ulf and Hugh.
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the rhythmic crashing of the waves and the occasional cawing of sea birds circling overhead. The atmosphere was tense, charged with the unspoken questions and the anticipation of what was to come. A bellowing roar, followed by a deep, rumbling growl caused gasps and screams amongst the crowd. People gasped and ducked, eyes wide with fear, as Vhagar and Ēbrion flew overhead.
Vhagar, with her green and bronze scales shimmering like an ancient relic and her orange eyes burning with a fierce intelligence, led the way. Her immense wings cast vast, shifting shadows over the crowd. Ēbrion followed closely, his deep blue and black scales absorbing the light, his own orange eyes glowing like embers. The two dragons called to each other, their voices resonating with a power that made the earth tremble.
The older war dragon circled and landed on a cliff to the east, her claws digging into the rocky terrain as her orange eyes scanned the crowd. Ēbrion descended gracefully onto the beach to the west, his wings folding elegantly as he settled, his gaze fixed on the gathering of people below him.
The atmosphere grew even more charged as lighter chirps and calls heralded the arrival of two more dragons. Vermithor, known as the Bronze Fury, appeared with a roar that echoed across the cliffs. His bronze scales gleamed in the light, and he landed on the high bridge, his massive form almost overwhelming the ancient structure. Silverwing, with her gleaming silver scales, descended behind the crowd, her wings creating a gust that whipped through the assembly.
The four dragons effectively encircled the attendants, their imposing forms creating an inescapable barrier. The sense of entrapment was clear, the onlookers now fully aware of the power and danger surrounding them. The stage was set for the declarations to come, the dragons' presence underscoring the gravity of the moment.
Aemond cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the tense silence, before addressing the crowd. His voice, strong and commanding, cut through the murmurs and whispers. "Two of Rhaenyra’s dragon riders have come to their senses and are now sworn to the Greens' cause," he announced, his words causing the onlookers to exchange confused and anxious glances, their murmuring growing louder. Aemond raised a hand, silencing them, and continued, "I am giving you all a chance to see the true path and recognize Rhaenyra for what she is: a usurper."
He paused, letting his words sink in, before resuming. "My half-sister fled like a coward, stealing the Iron Throne from her own nephew rather than allowing her husband to face a challenger in singular combat. Is that the kind of leader you want? One who runs and hides when faced with direct confrontation?" His voice grew colder, more intense. "Recognize me as Prince Regent for Maelor, heir of the firstborn son of King Viserys, who will ascend the throne when he comes of age, or face the consequences."
Maera watched the crowd hesitate, their faces a mix of fear, confusion, and defiance. Not a single person bowed or pledged their allegiance. She knew what they thought of Aemond: a Kinslayer, a cold, one-eyed man, a cripple. She glanced at her husband, seeing the tension in his jaw, his frustration growing at the crowd’s lack of action.
Suddenly, Vhagar roared from the cliff top, the sound a deafening bellow that shook the ground and sent a wave of terror through the crowd. The people flinched and cowered, but still, none stepped forward. The silence that followed the roar was thick with tension, the crowd's defiance hanging in the air like a palpable force.
The Princess had had enough. The crowd’s hesitation and murmurs threatened to spiral into chaos, and she knew she had to take control. Determined, she attempted to pull herself up onto the rock beside her husband, but her large stomach and injured arm and leg made it difficult. She gritted her teeth, feeling the strain in her muscles and the sharp sting in her wounds, but she refused to give up.
After a few moments of struggling, she finally managed to pull herself up, standing tall and proud next to Prince Aemond. Her presence, regal and defiant, commanded attention. As she prepared to address the crowd, her left leg gave way, and she stumbled forward with a gasp. In an instant, she felt two strong arms grab onto her firmly, keeping her in place. She looked up to see Aemond, his face etched with concern. She couldn't tell if it was for her physical stumble or for what she might say to the onlookers.
Granting him a small smile and a nod, she reassured him before he let her go. Turning to face the crowd, Maera drew a deep breath, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before her. The silence was heavy, all eyes fixed on her, waiting to hear what she would say.
"I know everyone in attendance, including myself, has been affected so far by the Dance of the Dragons." She paused, her gaze sweeping across the crowd, recognizing the worry and fatigue etched into their faces. "There has already been enough bloodshed from both the Greens and Blacks."
The crowd stirred, whispers and nods rippling through them as Maera continued. "My nephew, Maelor, represents a new age of peace and prosperity for the future." She emphasized the innocence of the young prince, contrasting it with Rhaenyra’s ambitions. "Whilst Rhaenyra wishes to live in the past, invading the Capital and plotting to kill children, Maelor is innocent. With the right guidance, he will grow to be a great King."
Maera rubbed her belly tenderly as her child kicked beneath her skin, a visible symbol of a new beginning. "My own child gives me hope for the future, a future that does not know war or violence between kin," she said, her voice tinged with emotion. She turned to look out onto the dark sea, the waves crashing onto the beach in a rhythmic reminder of time’s passage. "Some of you may value the past more than the future, and that is fine. If that is the case, you can leave now without any harm coming to you."
The crowd held its breath, the silence filled only by the sound of the sea and the distant roars of dragons. Maera’s offer hung in the air, a glimmer of mercy in a world torn apart by conflict. The tension was palpable as they awaited the response, the weight of their decision bearing down upon them.
Suspicion lingered in the eyes of those gathered, as they glanced nervously at the four dragons surrounding them. The formidable presence of Vhagar, Ēbrion, Vermithor, and Silverwing was a stark reminder of the power held by the dragon riders, capable of striking at any moment upon command.
A murmur ran through the crowd as her words sank in. A small group of servants, stewards, and guards began to edge away from the crowd, their faces a mixture of fear and resolve. As they swerved past Ēbrion, the dragon growled menacingly, snapping his teeth in an intimidating manner. The defectors flinched but continued their retreat, leaving the rest of the Dragonstone inhabitants standing in uncertain silence.
Maera, sensing the hesitation in those who remained, spoke again, her voice clear and unwavering. "Those who decide to stay should declare themselves loyal to Maelor, and in turn, to Prince Aemond as Regent. I would be honoured to serve those loyal to my family, for a great future cannot be forged without your support."
After an awkward, tense moment, the two serving girls who had attended Maera and Aemond the night before were the first to move. They dropped to their knees, casting their gaze downward in a clear sign of allegiance. Their actions seemed to break the spell, and a few guards followed suit, dropping to one knee. Stewards and maids hesitated briefly before kneeling as well, their heads bowed.
One by one, the rest of the crowd followed, their collective movement creating a rustle of fabric and a soft thud of knees hitting the black sand. The entire assembly knelt before Maera and Aemond, their loyalty now pledged to Maelor and the Greens. The tension in the air dissipated slightly, replaced by a solemn recognition of the new order being established.
Tumblr media
Even though Dragonstone was won, there was still much work to be done. Ravens were dispatched to alert their allies of this bloodless victory, the messages bearing news of their success and immediate orders. Ser Criston Cole, their steadfast ally, was commanded to come to Dragonstone without delay, while a contingent remained at Harrenhal to secure it for the ongoing war effort.
Aemond cautioned Maera to remain wary of those around her, a caution she found irksome but necessary. The previous attempts on her life had left her deeply distrustful, regardless of others’ past actions or promises for the future. Still, she maintained a demeanor of kindness towards those who served her, understanding that true loyalty was often won through compassion and respect.
This kindness bore fruit, winning the sincere loyalty of many among the staff. The most devoted of them came forward, warning the Princess of traitors hidden within their ranks. Maera thanked them genuinely and informed her husband of the treachery. Aemond took swift and decisive action, leading the discovered traitors to the beach where Vhagar awaited. The mighty dragon burned and feasted upon the flesh of those who would endanger them, a brutal but effective display of power and retribution.
In the past, Maera might have thought such punishment too harsh. But now, with so much lost and the stakes so high, she no longer possessed the mercy she once did. One chance was all she gave, and if her kindness was betrayed, the consequences were ruthless. The dragonfire served as a stark warning to all: loyalty would be rewarded, but treachery would be met with unyielding severity.
Despite their display of unity on the beach, Aemond and Maera's marriage remained firmly on the rocks. Nightmares continued to haunt Maera, the smell of Alys's burnt body filling her subconscious. Her wounds were still healing, and each time she looked at the ugly scars forming, she could not help but think of Aemond's betrayal. The sight of the marred skin on her arm and leg served as a constant reminder of the price she had paid for his choices.
The couple spent most of their days apart. Maera still refused to have him in her bed, suggesting instead that he take the grandest room in the castle, meant for the presiding Lord. Aemond declined, insisting she should have it as she would need more room, especially in her condition. Their interactions were sparse, each exchange tinged with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved pain.
During the early days of their marriage, Aemond's presence had been enough for Maera. Now, she found herself incredibly lonely, the vast halls of Dragonstone echoing with her isolation. But instead of wallowing in despair, she focused on rebuilding her network. She wrote to many of her own allies, including Lord Unwin Peake, her brothers Faran and Luthor, and her sister Sabine. Each letter was crafted with care, reaching out to those who had once stood by her side.
She also wrote to Wynni and Helena, though she did not expect a reply from either. She was unsure if Wynni still harbored hatred for her due to the death of her husband, and she doubted whether Helena was still lucid enough to read her correspondence. Yet, she penned the letters anyway, hoping that her words might somehow reach through the fog of grief and madness.
One night, Aemond summoned Maera to his quarters for supper. The news, delivered by a maid, was met with a huff of frustration from Maera and an eager wriggle from her unborn child. When Aemond was out of her sight, life felt easier. However, she realized she had avoided him long enough.
She did not bother to dress formally, instead opting for her black robe over her nightgown. Her gigantic bump felt much heavier now, the weight of it bearing down on her. Walking had become a tremendous struggle; coupled with her injured leg, Maera now waddled due to the late stage of her pregnancy.
A constant burning sensation in her nether regions only added to her discomfort. The midwives had assured her it was perfectly normal at this stage of pregnancy and a good sign that birth might be near. Knowing it was normal did little to ease the situation.
Maera gathered her unopened letters, scrolls, and quills, deciding to take them with her. She hoped the distraction of her correspondence would help her endure Aemond's company for the evening. With a determined sigh, she made her way slowly to his quarters, every step a reminder of the burden she carried both physically and emotionally.
When Maera entered Aemond’s chambers, she saw him hunched over his desk, his gaze flicking up to her briefly before he set aside his quill. She walked towards him, placing her items down opposite him.
The smell of pastry soon filled her nose, and on a table a few feet away was a small untouched banquet for two. Her nausea was still present, so she filled her plate with bread, turkey, cheese, and grapes before grabbing a bowl of raspberry tart and custard and sitting opposite Aemond.
As she began to nibble on her food, she noticed Aemond had not eaten a thing, nor had he even got up to serve himself. To break the awkward silence, Maera joked, “You should at least eat something if you’re asking me to supper.”
No reply came, his usual sternness painted across his sharp-featured face. Maera attempted to joke again between bites. “I hope you have a good excuse for calling on me this evening,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “I actually planned on getting a bath because your child is causing me-”
Aemond cut her off, his voice devoid of emotion. “Your father is dead.”
Maera froze, the spoonful of raspberry tart hovering in the air. Her mind raced with thoughts, but outwardly she remained still, her expression unreadable. Her father, dead? The words echoed in her mind, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions surging within her. She thought of his stern face, the frequent disapproval, and the sharp words that had cut deeper than any blade. Yet she had always sought his approval. But now, none of it mattered. He was gone.
Aemond‘s voice cut through the silence, his words still devoid of emotion. "As is my grandsire." After a moment, he asked, “Are you okay?” His expression remained inscrutable, his body stiff and unyielding, though there was a flicker of concern in his single eye.
Maera gulped, rubbing her pregnancy bump nervously. She felt a complex mix of relief, sadness, and a strange hollowness. She hesitated before answering. "He was not a good father. I feel... strange. I thought I would feel something more."
Aemond hummed in agreement, his gaze distant. "I felt the same when my father died."
Maera sighed deeply, memories of Lord Jasper flooding her mind. She was sure the Master of Laws saw her as a thorn in his side. Where his other daughters had obeyed their father’s orders, Maera defied them cleverly. While her sisters diligently attended to their duties, Maera took up the sword and sparred with her brothers. Where Sabine and Wynni had lovely, pristine reputations, Maera had hers ruined by a rejected suitor, yet her father still blamed her. There were moments of tenderness between her and her father, yes, but those did not erase the moments of cruelty and rejection.
She recalled the rare moments of warmth, the fleeting smiles, the gentle pats on the head, the conversations about her mother. At times, Maera could not help but admire him, for he was clever and strategic, with a brilliant mind and sense of duty. But these were overshadowed by the times he dismissed her, blamed her for scandals, and his obsession with producing so many offspring in order for him to have a hand in all matters of the Seven Kingdoms.
Maera had always been the rebel, the outcast within her own family because she did not comply with her father’s wishes of being a demure, silent and obedient lady. She wondered if he had ever truly understood her, or if he had merely seen her as a rebellious daughter, a source of constant disappointment. She thought of her brothers, her sisters, the family she had left behind, who had no doubt also heard of their father’s passing. She felt a pang of guilt, of sorrow for the connections that had been strained or severed.
Shaking her head, Maera said, "Nothing can be done now. It’s best not to dwell."
The Princess began opening her correspondence and reading them, a welcome distraction from her husband and the news. The room fell silent once more, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of parchment and the soft clinking of cutlery against Maera's plate.
She read through the letters, her green eyes scanning the familiar penmanship of other noblewomen detailing how the war was affecting their households. There were minor updates about troop movements, food shortages, and the general anxiety that had settled over the realm. She read letters from her family at Rain House, filled with well-wishes and mundane news. Nothing stood out, nothing to lighten the heavy mood that had settled over her since the news of her father's death.
Then she came across a small scroll, rolled up tightly and likely delivered by raven. Unfurling it, she noted the rushed and coarse penmanship, with splatters of ink marring the parchment. It was clear whoever had written it had done so in haste and under duress.
Princess
I could not move the Queen. But I got the little King and young Princess out of Kings Landing
Thena
As she read the letter, Maera's stern face softened, her brows raised, and a laugh escaped her lips. A smile spread from ear to ear, a rare sight in these troubled times.
Aemond glanced up, his sharp-featured face framed by long white hair. His single eye narrowed in confusion, a brow arched. "What is it?" he asked, his voice cautious.
With glee, Maera announced, "Jaehaera and Maelor have escaped the Capital! They’re making their way to safety."
Aemond's shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension easing from his posture. He breathed a sigh of relief, his usually stern expression softening for a moment. "Thank the Gods," he muttered, the weight of worry lifting slightly from his features.
For a moment, amidst the dark and uncertain times, a spark of hope flickered between them, bridging the gap that had grown so wide. The Princess said a silent prayer, hoping the Gods would guide their niece and nephew safely to the Stormlands and the Westerlands.
She then looked out of the window to see the dark, starry night sky. "It’s late," she declared, rising from her chair. "I should get back to my chambers." She gathered her letters and scrolls. "I’ll write to Luthor and Sabine to inform them of their impending arrivals."
Aemond also rose from his seat, moving to assist Maera in gathering her belongings. As she reached for her quill, his large hand landed atop hers, enveloping it in warmth. A rush of emotion surged through Maera at the contact, and she flicked her gaze up to meet his stare. His single violet eye held a mixture of longing and sadness, his sharp features softened by the dim candlelight.
For a moment, the room was suspended in silence, the tension between them palpable. Aemond’s grip tightened slightly, as if afraid to let her go. "Stay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Maera felt a lump form in her throat. She missed him—his touch, his warmth, the intimacy they once shared. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the familiar scent of leather and dragon fire bringing back memories of better times. She so badly wanted to give in, to let herself be held by him once more. Her heart ached with the memory of their love, now marred by betrayal and pain.
But the scars of their recent past and the weight of an uncertain future loomed large in her mind. She could not forget Aemond’s actions or the consequences they had wrought. With a sigh, she pulled her hand away, bringing the quill with her. The loss of his touch was immediate and profound, leaving a cold emptiness where warmth had briefly flourished.
“I cannot,” she said softly, her voice barely holding steady. She turned away from him, her heart heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. She felt his gaze on her back, a silent plea for understanding and reconciliation that she could not grant.
Leaving the room hastily, her thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She longed for the comfort of his embrace, yet the wounds of their past were still too fresh, too raw. As she walked down the dimly lit corridors of Dragonstone, she felt the weight of her unborn child pressing down on her, a reminder of the future she had to protect, a future that demanded strength and resolve. A future that would come to be very soon.
Tumblr media
Notes: Dragonstone for the Greens 💚 their marriage is still rocky but improving a tad. I’m so excited to post the next chapter 🖤
Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy @kckt88 @darylandbethfanforever9
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
94 notes · View notes
puzzled-pegasus · 8 months
Text
wof headcanons but theyre oddly food and substance related for some reason
Although I understand why Tui didn't include very much info abt alchohol or drugs in a kids book there is an extreme lack of culinary related world building so here are some ideas I had while on this train of thought :)
SeaWings tend to be foodies and are generally given cooking classes in school. Which if you think about it, is rather important, because like 60 percent of the creatures in the ocean are poisonous and the rest have parasites and nasty germs so they need to know whats up when it comes to food safety.
SeaWings use a lot of citrus in their food and drinks and they also use it for fragrances and stuff they just really like it
SeaWing nobles commonly eat fugu and there have been assassinations where a chef was bribed to not properly take out the poison so the dragon eating it would die
SeaWings drink to taste. SkyWings drink to forget what century it is.
SkyWings typically eat their meat raw but on special occasions they will barbecue it and put some spices n stuff on it. They don't eat much else besides meat but they do like spicy things like peppers and they also like strong onion or garlic flavors. The little masochists. Anyway,
SkyWings don't really like sweet things and many of them can't even taste them so they're like wtf is a dessert
man do they love them some olives tho. Olives everywhere. In their drink. Out of the jar. On their meat. Oil on their scales. Oil in their hygiene products. They started trading them from the Sand and SeaWings millennia ago but theyve selectively bred ones that grow in the mountains
This one's more drugs than food but SkyWings will sometimes take some kind of stimulant before battle like a beserker so they're all fired up heheh
MudWings are excellent meal preparers and sibs like to all cook together so they'll make a big pot of stew or something
They like bread and desserts, they have easy access to sugar cane being along the east coast and they also use a lot of honey. They're re into canning stuff too, they have a lot of raspberries and blackberries and strawberries in their temperate forest areas and they grow them to make jam and wine and they use honey to make mead
basically they are Cottagecore(TM) and I love them
They also eat lots of freshwater fish and crawfish and whatnot
And they also eat a lot of tatoes
Vanilla grows in the swamps, they use that in their cakes
MudWings deserve some appreciation goddamnit their kingdom is biologically diverse and beautiful
SandWings have tequila because. Yknow. Cactus.
They eat a lot of bugs and lizards, they don't really need to eat every day so it's not a huge deal
they do like coconuts tho and they use coconut oil in a lot of their hygiene products as well as in their cooking
They deep fry a lot of shit. Idk where i got this but trust me. They love things with lots of fat in it bc they need all they can get
Really sticky sweet desserts and candy; enjoyers of those one lollipops with the mealworms or whatever tf in them
also canning stuff like bone broth is very important
pickled cactus as well
rhey probably have a festival when cactus fruit goes in season
what even is IceWing cuisine.
Well way up north where there's nothing but ice it's pretty bad and the dragons have to eat just plain ass meat and seafood, but down into the tundras there's some pretty good stuff like cinnamon, pines for tea, honey berries, and other foraging as well as more diversity of meats
They would probably eat sushi
All the other tribes like to make fun of them and rightfully so bc their food is so plain
they make good honey berry wine tho
Maube that's why theyre so damn grumpy
RainWings are expert foragers ofc but they don't really feel the need to prepare their food in any way
They are, however, in constant dire need of sodium because they get absolutely none from their fruit
So anything salty is wow
Maybe rhey have a place near the mud kingdom border where they can grow some asparagus for salt
they are also the only tribe besides Night that can eat chocolate but forgor 💀 how to make it so the NightWings and them have to re figure it out together
Salted dark chocolate bing bang boom instant delicacy
NightWings used to be able to cook really well, especially desserts and pastry, but they forgor while they were trying to not die on the volcano
186 notes · View notes
misguidedasgardian · 1 year
Text
The Dragon's Mistress (6)
Tumblr media
6. Whore, then?
MASTERLIST
Summary: Aemond’s plans for you come to light
Warnings: cursing, mentions of war, mentions of death, humiliation, use of the word bastard and traitor, involuntary touch of a PENISSSS hahaha, incest, smut, non-con, dubcon, breeding kink, talks about “seed”, mentions of sexual desire of a minor towards another minor,  might miss some warnings
+18, MINORS DNI
Wordcount:  4.6 k
Notes: This chapter is huge, because the first part… the smut didn’t came and I didn’t want to disappoint you all, so I put more into it hehe so the next chapter might take more in coming, and the story will take another rhythm 
Tumblr media
You felt small under his gaze, you felt terrified of what he was going to do to you
“Before our… guest… arrived we were in the middle of something”, he said darkly, you remembered vividly how you were dining with him and he told you to draw him a bath and then… he told you after the bath you were going to do something but now you had a dark clue of what that might be…
“Yes”, you answered meekly
“Remember? you are not going to be my servant any more…”, you didn’t want to ask, you didn’t want to know what other title he might have for you, you truly didn’t want to know.
“I remember”, you said softly and fearfully looking down, “may I bring you dinner?”
“That is a job for a servant”, he said with a smile
“Please, my prince, let me serve you”, no, no, no, you had to be his servant, nothing more, nothing less
“You are so eager”, he said with pursed lips, with the tip of his finger he arranged a wild lock of hair behind your ear, “I will use that eagerness elsewhere”, he whispered
“Please…”
“We are going to have dinner, then you will make me a bath, and then…”, he drew a sickening smile, “then I shall see how to proceed”
“Very well”, you whispered with a broken voice, he smiled yet again, pleased, as he turned to the doors, to ask a guard to fetch a maid or servant
“And tomorrow, if you can walk, I will take you to meet Vhagar”, he said then, and that scared you more than anything else
You didn't want to, you truly didn’t
The servants rushed in with plates of food and things to set the table. It was set near the balcony, with views to the Dragonmount and the sea. The day, or what was left of it was dark and gloomy, a start might be approaching and yet, you two sat on the table, the candle lit in the center of it didn’t even flinch, far from everything happening around it. 
You looked over the table and you found cheeses, fruits, bread, wine, meats and jams, a little of everything. 
“Does this assortment please you?”, he asked casually, hiding his smile on the cup of wine
“It does my prince”, you said softly, he smiled, content
“The food here is not as good as it is in King’s Landing, but the company is certainly better”, he tried with a smirk
“You are too kind my prince”, you whispered, “but I’m sure that in King's Landing you could find more pleasing company amongst the ladies of court and the great houses”, you tried, not to offend him, but to make him remember all the things he liked about the capital, if you were lucky maybe he could leave you alone
“Not really, the women from the capital are boring and unremarkable”, he said, quickly bored of the subject
“I’m very sorry to hear that my prince”, were you trying too hard? perhaps you should try to insult him, or bore him to death, so his interest in you would cease
But it was certainly a challenge 
You nibbled on what you had selected in your plate, you tried to focus on the food as you felt his uneven gaze upon you. The sapphire on his eye certainly startled you at first, although you couldn’t deny he looked strikingly handsome
And you wanted to slap yourself at that thought
“You are quiet”, he admired like it was a good thing
“I have nothing to say my prince forgive me”, you muttered
“Do you find the meal pleasing?”, he tried then, after a sigh
“Yes, my prince, I’ve always liked the food here”, you tried to give him a good smile, but as you said those words it reminded you of all the meals you used to have with all your family gathered. Your parents, your brothers, your cousins, the babies… and it made your heart squeeze so hard you thought you were going to die right then and there
The flashbacks with your family in them had become really strange these past months, you even feared you were forgetting them. But here they were, alive even if only in your memory
“Where did you go?”, you came back to the present when Aemond was looking right back at you, with a sick smile on his face
“I’m sorry”, you said, drawing another fake smile
“What was on your mind?”, he asked, sipping on his wine. It sickened you that he was pretending like nothing had happened, like you were having a normal conversation, that you were in somewhat a normal situation. 
“I was just remembering things that don’t exist anymore”, you said gently, praying that he indeed ask you to elaborate, he seemed to get the indirect, so he didn't, and you were thankful for it 
“Where you thinking of your brother?”, but you were mistaken
“No one in particular”, you said back, “like all my family”
“Mmm”, then he dropped it, you could see he didn’t like the direction of the conversation
You continued to eat in silence, and you could tell there was not the tension like before, he seemed more relaxed, pleased, and you didn’t know if you should be happy for it, or scared
“I think it is time for my bath”, he said, wiping his mouth with a silk napkin and leaving it on the table, “I know you are not my servant anymore, but I won’t want you to forget your initiative, is that clear?”
“Yes my prince”, you almost jumped off the table to fetch the maids, and they were not hard to find, you commanded them to fetch the water and they did so without delay, already accustomed to your daily baths.
You came back to find him staring outside the windows, as he tended to do. You realized Aemond was really meditative, always sunken in his deepest thoughts, impossible to read
His thoughts, unknown to you, were plagued with you and only you, how to proceed with you, how to take you, how to tame you, how to make you truly his, and then, he remembered what Alys told him and that made him even angrier 
You were going to be his, specially your heart, after all, he was all you had left and he wanted to make sure you knew it, for you, there was only him, nobody else, no friends no family, only Aemond, and when you realized it, you will learn to care for the only thing you had, care and then love. 
He couldn’t fail
You left him to think when the maids brought the water, and you confined yourself in the bath room
He watched you as you poured the oils and essences into the almost boiling water of the bath, did he feared you would poison him? you doubted, perhaps it was only something perverse as always, just watching you. 
“It is ready”, you announced with a smile after you prepared the towel and the night shirt for him. 
“Undress me”, he demanded, and you were quick to follow his command, you undid the buttons of his vest, and then you took it in your arms, fold it and placed in a chair, and then you turned to him again, this time to take his white shirt, undoing the only lace on his chest and then he himself got rid of it and then handed it to you
You knew what followed, his breeches, you paused, but you knew he was going to make you take them
“I told you I wanted you for more intimate works”, he said as a warning, so you bite your tongue, literally, and grab his breeches and let them fall down his lean legs. His leather pants dragged along his first layer of clothing, his undergarments, so now he was completely naked. You worked, hard, not to gaze at his manhood, that by your position in front of him must be right by your face, as you kneeled to take his pants off
“This is what I like to see”, he mocked, “you on your knees”, and you couldn’t get up any faster, you did so it made you dizzy 
You help him get in the tub and sit inside it. He submerged in the water, and his hair was now wet, you didn’t even see him undoing his signature half ponytail, but now he was there. All bare, his hair wet and loose, his eye patch gone. This was the true Aemond, the naked one.
He caught you staring, and in his eye you saw bitterness. You must have looked stupid, mouth agape and wide-eyed
“Does my sight horrify you so?”, he asked, and that truly took you by surprise, he looked truly naked, exposed even
“No”, you said quickly, and you didn’t know why you find yourself wanting to comfort him, “no, on the contrary”
“You pity me, then?”, he asked
“I was only thinking that I had never seen you like this”, you said softly, grabbing the sponge and playing with it, “with your hair loose and your eyepatch gone”, you continued, “it is an extraordinary sight”, and you cursed yourself because you sounded like a little girl in love
He smirked then.
“Bathe me”, he demanded.
He thought about inviting you to join him but then he thought about it more and he didn’t like what he saw, you were going to refuse, and he was not going to make you unless he threatens you to drown you in the tub, and he didn’t want that
He was going to have you after the bath, so now he wanted you, like a lamb to slaughter, he did not want you to see the knife approaching
You bathed him with the sponge, and you used the tip of your fingers to draw small messages that he seemed to enjoy, he grunted in praise and you felt a little proud.
If you were good to him he was going to be good to you back
You knew it, you had to believe it
You stopped when the sponge was in his belly, he looked at you, with his face barely centimeters away from you
He took your hand again and drew it even further into the waters, you whimpered when you touched a soft soft skin with your knuckles
A tear fell down your eye, you didn't want this, you didn’t want to touch him, you didn't want him touching you, but at the same time if you refused he was only going to be rougher with you. He saw your pain, and released you
He sighed, like he was tired… of you. With a movement of his hand you realized he wanted to get out of the tub, so you rushed to get the towel, that, as it was a custom for you, you had left by the fire so it will be warm for when he needed it 
He extended his arms so you’d dry them, and you did, and then you started by his chest and went down, and then, you couldn’t help yourself, you saw it. 
He was hard, and his cock looked… bigger in comparison to those of the paintings and drawings, he was as thick as your wrist, and you couldn’t help but whimper. If he had an unsheathed sword in hand you would be less frightened, you only hoped he didn’t “wield it” against you
“Like what you see?”, he asked, he obviously saw you
“I’m sorry”
“Don’t be”, he purred, “I want you to see and feel what I will give to you” 
“Please, my prince”, you whimpered but he grabbed your hand, that was still holding the towel, and he took it there
With only the fabric separating your hand from his cock, you could feel the outline of it.
“Dry it”, you did, give it a few taps, hoping it will be enough, and your face must have been so constricted that he released you, and you were fast to go dry him down his legs and pretend that nothing happened  
Once he was dry, ne put on his nightshirt and he himself dried his hair, he seemed conflicted himself, on what to do and now you remembered yourself
He probably wanted to have you now. He wanted you to attend to his intimate needs he said so himself 
“Why do you reject me?”, he asked then, amused, entertained
“What?”, you asked him, wide-eyed, and for him you looked like a little lamb ready to be devoured 
“Why?”, he asked again. But he got no answer from you, “go to the room”, you whispered, the worse had come. He grabbed you and dragged you to the room, and when he was there he grabbed you, threw himself at you.
He grabbed your arms to prevent you from pushing him away, and he leaned in to try and kiss you. 
“No… please”, you begged, trying to escape his kisses, “You are going to ruin me”
“You are mine, you need to please your master”, he growled, but he relented his attack on you, releasing you when you whimpered, your eyes watery
“Please”, you begged, placing two hands on his chest, “I was a lady…”, you explained, “we are not married… You are going to ruin me”
“Oh, ruin you?”, he mocked, “were you saving yourself for your husband?”, he taunted, making you whimper, “for Cregan Stark?”
“Please”, you begged, for him to be off of you, but he wouldn’t leave you
“I’m sorry if it amazes me you see, with a whore as a mother I would believe you already let your bastard brother fuck you”
“No!”, you cried, “don’t say those things, please”
“I already said them”, he mocked, “you didn’t let Jacaerys between your thighs?”, he taunted
“Never”, you whined, and you wanted to throw up at the thought, Jacaerys would NEVER have done that, ever, he loved you and you him, yes, but only as siblings
“Oh that does pleases me”, he growled against the skin of your neck, you whined and twisted on his grasp, but he didn’t let go, “because I killed Stark when I learned you were going to marry him”, you whimpered in fear when you realized he truly was unhinged. 
“Why?”, you demanded
“You are the one for me”, he said simply, “there is only you”, he looked into his eyes and what you saw there scared you
“And what about Alys?”, you asked, he stopped immediately, there it was, your last line of defense
“I send her back to Harrenhal”, he said, looking down at you
“She is your wife”, you tried to reason with him
“She is not my wife!”, he said angrily, “And you are different”, he said then, placing another treacherous kiss on your neck, “my silver dragon, you are the one…”
“You made me a servant”, you accused, “I’m only a servant”
“And as such you will serve your lord”
He threw you to the bed, and when you tried to crawl back and away from him, and saw the real fear in your eyes, he seemed to stop. He looked at you and you saw pity in his eye, so he just pursed his lips
He climbed onto the bed and you only stayed still, fearful of him, truly scared 
But what he did disarmed you. He only held you tight against him, but attempted nothing else, his weight crushed you a little, but nothing else as you fell asleep, so tired of the day. 
He felt you relax under him and that made him relax himself.
But he was angry
Forcing you, it was not what he wanted to do, he took no pleasure in taking what was not freely given. He realized to his own surprise. He wanted you, he knew that, but he didn’t like the fear in your eyes. 
He needed to change his strategy, you were no longer his servant, but he didn’t have time to court you and make you fall in love with him…
He needed to loosen you up, he didn’t want to force you, he thought, as he looked at you sleeping underneath him, it would work better if he grew in you, when you are no longer scared of him 
When you woke up the next morning, you felt strangely rested, you felt Aemond on top of you all night long and that strangely left you a sensation of comfort, but you woke up alone on the bed. But your “master” was not far, you heard noise from the corner and you found him having breakfast on the table
“Good morning”, he greeted, but he hesitated on what to call you, you guessed, “I haven’t decided yet what you are to me”, he said calmly, with a gentle tone
“You are my prince”, you said gently, he was in a good mood, you’d do well in not ruin it
“I know”, he smiled gently at you, and invited you to join him
You did, you were still wearing the clothes for the day before but still, you sat with him and joined him, he would commence a small talk with you, he was careful in no bringing up your family or recent events, he rather talked about other things, things beyond the seven Kingdoms, things you had seen and read
“You should change, put on your riding gear”, you looked up at him wide-eyed, “we will take a ride”
“On Vhagar, My prince?”, you asked shakily
“Yes”, he looked at you with warning, so you didn’t protest, instead you asked.
“What if she does not take to me?”, you asked fearfully
“She will feel what I feel with you, she will not harm you”, he said simply
“My Prince, she slain my brother and my father”, you whispered, he got quiet then, looking at you with severity
“We were having such a lovely morning, I woke up next to you, we are breaking our fast with nice food…”
“I’m sorry My Prince”, you whispered, “I would be honored and happy to take to the skies again”, but only in your dragon, you thought bitterly
You were interrupted by a knock on the door, the guard announced the Maester himself what waiting
“I wish to speak to you, your grace, an important letter has arrived from King’s Landing”, Aemond was quick to leave the room to have a private conversation with the Maester of Dragonstone, leaving you alone in the room
But without your knowledge, in that audience, in that letter that arrived from King’s Landing, will make everything change.
He returned soon after, and ass soon as he walked in the door you knew, it came a different man that the one that left 
“What happened?”, you asked curiously, he only looked at you, “My prince?”, you asked
He didn't answer you, he didn’t even let you react, he walked towards you hastily, almost running, you had no time to flee but he caught you between his body and the wall
“No! please!”, you cried, he grabbed your hands, trapping them over your head and against the cold stone wall, his face seeked yours, his lips wanting to devour your own, “my prince?”
“I will get what is mine, finally”, he growled, so you tried one last thing
“I know you hate me”, you cried, “I know it, I understand it, and I’m sorry for what my family did, but please, please don’t do this, please…”, bitter tears fell down your eyes as you pleaded. He halted his movements, and for a moment, a single second you thought it had worked, that he was going to leave you alone.
But he barked out a laugh, and your heart shattered
“You think that I hate you because of your family?”, he asked bitterly, you only whined, “I hate your family because they took you away from me”, he said darkly, and you gasped underneath him by the surprise
“What?”, you asked, horrified
“I’ve wanted you, since I was thirteen”, he chuckled, “Since I knew what to do with my cock I knew I wanted you”
“But why?”, you whined, and he only looked down at you
“Because you are a pure Targaryen princess, and I fucking deserve you”, he growled, you only looked up at him wide-eyed, wishing he would elaborate, “My brother is dying, his burnt cock will not produce more heirs”, he said darkly, and you whimpered at his words, “I will be the King of the Seven Kingdoms, and you will be my Queen”
“No!”, you whined
“The last Targaryen”, he continued, “you will give me perfect Targaryen heirs, and we will reign for half a decade, just like Jaehaerys and Alyssane did”, he took no more time and threw you to the bed 
“Please I beg of you, please”, you whimpered, bitter tears falling down your cheeks, “don’t do it!”
“Why wouldn't I?”, he asked, grunting looking down at you, “You don’t want my seed?”, you shook your head as more tear fell
“Please, don’t…”
“Shut up, our time is over, I can’t wait no longer for you to fall in line, I will have to make you”
You moved on the bed under him like a woman possessed, but he immobilized you \
“It will be best for us both if you don’t fight it”, he warned, calmly, and in some sick part of your mind you believed that to be true
“You made me your servant”, you accused again, as he took a dagger from his belt, and used it to rip your dress to pieces, “you humiliate me”, you said then
“it was only to break you”, he only sliced a bit of the dress, he then disposed of the dagger and used his bare hands to rip the simple dress off of you
Soon you were naked underneath him, and he stopped only to look down at you, admire you from above
“You are so perfect for me”, he said like it was hurting him, you stopped fighting him, you only looked up at him with eyes filled with tears. He leaned in and kissed you, hungrily but calmly, he took his time to savor you, and you could do nothing but to follow along, for the first time truly feeling his lips on top of yours. He separated from you only to undress, he threw his vest and shirt far away, and now it was your time to look up at him.
He was perfect
He was like one of the statues, a marble statue, you looked into his face and your eyes met, your gazes intertwined 
Is this why the Gods spared you? for you to live this moment? for you to become his? to become a Queen? it could be a way to avenge your family, take the side of the throne and birth the future King and Queens
The moment of gazing it was over, he leaned in and took your lips on his again, his hands did not stayed idle, he touched your sides, and slowly, enjoying every inch of your skin, he moved up, until he cupped your breasts
One of his hands though, traveled south, he had taken a lace between your legs so you couldn’t close your legs when his fingers teased your intimacy
“You are not ready”, he growled, like he was chiding you, like you were to blame, so one of his fingers entered you as his thumb pressed on your clit
You whimpered, feeling a lightning striking your body. 
He loosed you up with patience and skill, and he was pleased with how wet you were, he kneeled on the bed and he got rid of his pants
You didn’t want to see him, you looked away as you made fists of your hands grabbing the shits underneath you
“I want you to look at me”, he demanded, his hand on your thighs, caressing them, grabbing the soft skin he found there , you did, you met his eyes as he with his touch was coaxing your relaxation, “I will be gentle”, he said softly, you could only nood as a tear fell down your eye, embracing your fate, and your fears
“Please”, you only said
“You are the only thing I‘ve ever wanted”, he continued, “the thing I fought so hard to obtain”
“I’m not a thing”, you said as a warning
“I know, you are a Queen”, he said, he leaned in and kissed you again, he accommodated himself between your thighs and you whimpered in his mouth when you felt his cock crash with your cunt. 
He looked into your eyes and he grabbed himself and opened you with his cock. You cried bloody murder when you felt him ripping you open.
He did prepared you, you were as relaxed as you could be, and he was being gentle and slow, but he was too big, you whined and cried underneath him
“Shh, relax”, he demanded, his thumb returned to your bundle of nerves, and he caressed it gently, that did help, you spread your legs even wider hoping that will open you up more. 
You hissed at the burn of the stretch, but you just stood there underneath him and take it 
He entered you slowly, and you thought that when he was finally seated whole inside of you, you could feel him in your belly 
“You are doing so good for me”, he admired and when you looked into his eyes you saw again that look, a glint of madness in his eye, “taking what I’m giving you, given yourself to me”
“My prince”, you whined, impaled by him, you felt like if you moved he was going to break you in half.
He grunted above you
“You are so tight, so perfect for me”, he purred, his hands touched and caressed everything he could find, your hips, your sides, your breasts, then it went back to your thighs, until you relaxed fully, the pain did not disappear but rather you got accustomed to it
In that very second he withdrew himself from you, only to thrust into you again
“It hurts”, you complained softly, but this time he was too sunken pleasure to listen to you, to care
“It will only be a second”, he growled, and he started rutting onto you, slowly, but fiercely, enjoying the way you squeezed him, and you felt every inch of his cock coming in and out of you
He leaned in and kissed you more, devoured you, quieted your whimpers with his mouth, as he growled back at you
When you felt him so near you hugged him tightly, sinking your nails into his back, making him suffer even just a little bit, you were content with that, not knowing he was truly enjoying it. 
His pace quickened, you felt pain and burn even in your throat but you cling onto him, needing something to keep you together. He grunted in your ear, curses in High Valyrian, calming ownership over you, praising how good you were to him, like he was joining you both together
You felt no pleasure, but you didn’t expect to, you only felt connected to him like never before you felt with anything or anyone else.
“I’m going to cum inside you”, he promised, his hair was a mess, wild hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, he looked wild, like a savage, “I’m going to make you truly mine, and my child will grow inside you”
You whined, not wanting it, this was another thing entirely. He grabbed your arms, pushed them against the mattress by your head, and he demanded you look at him. Having securing you under him, he cummed inside you
“You are mine”
519 notes · View notes
py-dreamer · 12 days
Text
Tumblr media
Whee!!!! Not totally at midnight this time!!
But yes, here's freenoodles as promised and they were meant to go before Nezha but ehh, things didn't turn out as planned and here they are!
Tumblr media
Idk what kinda cake this is. Probably like a strawberry or red currant cake with like a cookie base on the bottom similar to a cheesecake with chocolate ganache and like a strawberry or raspberry jam in the middle (y'know, since it's 'tangy'?) since I couldn't really think of many fruits to associate with our favorite chef-scholar couple and I wanted to try a new sort of cake.
Though later on I decided on lemons since they look like cicada wings to me and also are sour but can be tangy and sweet when you get used to it. (like a culinary pig we know >u')
Not much to say about the cookies, same old, same old. Thankfully Pigsy's noodles was a canon brand so I could use it's logo.
To add some 'Tanginess' I added the basket of scrolls especially since I found I prefer to have a swoopy thing up top over the characters (ie dragon with Mei, armillary sash with Nezha ect) so I just did a floating open scroll which, fun fact:
says '7 days till my birthday'! or at least I meant it to if it weren't so smudged
Other than the lemon, since I had no fruits and wanted to give the cake more pizzazz, I added the lil cicadas and I think they look pretty dang cute! Much cuter than the balloon at least
Speaking of the balloon! Since we have 2 characters we get 2 balloons and I'm pretty happy with them! Pigsy one in particular since I saw nezuko's art with like a bunny balloon and I thought it'd be really cute to do the same here!
Of course the staff and 9 toothed rake, I did count the teeth on there and that is Zhu Bajie's hat thanks for noticing!
The ribbon thing I normally have in the other cakes is another one of Tang's scrolls! And pls don't come for me for the gibberish on them I referenced a canon thing with tripitaka opening the scrolls and just copied from there
Also, bottom left corner, that's tang's glasses (probably spares) and Pigsy's festival/performance glasses from the city of lanterns. Just a cute detail lol.
Why did I use both freenoodles instead of giving Tang and Pigsy their individual cakes? Idk it's more fun like this.
Also cause I figured I'd have more fun and ease picking the best of both worlds for 1 cake rather than struggle to think of decorations for both of them.
Also doing them as a pair frees up one more slot for another character so whee! more content!
(more work for me but that's what I get I suppose...)
But fun fact! (And a bit of spoilers...) These two are the only characters in a pair to share a cake. Now you might think it's cause I'm being unfair and robbing them of their individuality but no!
It's cause they old and married, let them be happy together!
But yea I think they turned out cute enough! Tang just landed in his husband's lap and Pigsy is just as confused as Tangy lol
(Also I haven't watched s5 don't smack me if I miss details but feel free to spoil me lol I don't mind)
30 notes · View notes
insomni-frog · 7 months
Text
Decide to list all the cookie run ocs I have, putting it under the cut because its a bit lengthy.
Gâteau Werehound
Inky Cap Cookie
Ebiten/shrimp Tempura Cookie
Raspberry Crown Cookie
Fruit leather Cookie
Taffy Cookie
Domiati Sphinx Cookie
Neapolitan Sandwich Cookie
Gummy Snake Cookie
Strawberry Jam Cookie
Fairy Floss Cookie
Futakuchi/Takoyaki Cookie
Kappa Cookie
Kaiju Cookie
Enenra Cookie
Nekomata cookie
BBQ Cookie
Eucalyptus Cookie
Butterfly tea Cookie
Lorikeet Cookie
Inkberry Cookie
Rainbow Mallow Cookie
Venus Flytrap Cookie
Melatonin Manta Cookie
Angelonia Dragon Cookie
Choco Rock Cookie
St. Brandy Cookie
Carob Cookie
Devil's cake Cookie
Bitter Jelly Cookie
Cream sheep Cookie
Poisonberry Dragon Cookie
Butterscotch Cookie
Honeysuckle Cookie
Vanilla Pudding Cookie
Berry Cream Cookie
Chippy Cookie
Sunny-side Cookie
Sugar Seal Cookie
Sea Angel Cookie
Sea Cucumber Cookie
Sea Louse Cookie
White Rice Cookie
And all twelve zodiac cookies.
This might not even be all of them, feels like I might be missing a few. I haven't even drawn most of them, but my brain won't stop making designs
56 notes · View notes
itsyamajesty · 25 days
Text
Well, full design happened. Not happy with the clothing being the EXACT same (want to do the same clothing style/type, but different), but I couldn't come up with anything right now and just wanted to draw for fun. I'll probably be able to figure out a better outfit after doing the other Beasts for this AU
Tumblr media
Rising Charcoal AU Eternal Sugar! (Lore below some ranting)
I'm probably not going to have them go by different names in universe, but still considering for OOC because whynot? (Alot better than calling the Beasts Rising or Rising Charcoal [insert character])
Don't have many ideas right now, only ones that I'm not satisfied with, so still just Rising Charcoal Eternal Sugar for now
Not doing a full AU explanation because I'm still not convinced I'll post or put that much more thought into this, but unless I make more reference Eternal Sugar art this might be his "official AU post" or whatever for a while so
ETERNAL SUGAR
Waking in a forgotten valley, he found himself in a new form unfamiliar to him. His hair much spikier and of pink pitaya, his angel wings gone and devilish wings and tail appearing more draconic. He was left with no lyre to lead his magic, only a royal shield of the highest grade. Unbreakable, unflinching, cleaned of blue jam. He can hear words of Dragontounge ring through his head. He ventures to see a dragon of pitaya just like him, bound by a trap of those words. A familiar power- his own- flows through his form, pulling him away from the fruit dragon. Despite it, they are far from fully disconnected. Only enough to be safe from her control...
Pitaya Dragon was not as lucky
Sorry if the description is a little low effort. Again, if I decide to post more of Rising Charcoal, I'll make a better one
18 notes · View notes
mugiwara-rosewolf · 11 months
Text
All My Life
Part One II Part Two
Sabo x F! Reader
Summary: Reader has been a Revolutionary since birth. But her first mission went terribly wrong, leaving her friend Sabo terribly scarred. They've stuck together since the day he lost his memory--but she remembers everything. So when news hits the papers, and Sabo falls ill, Reader has to grapple with the outcomes and consequences of her first and longest-running mission. Has she succeeded or failed? What happens when her former-amnesiac Sabo finally remembers her?
Warnings: Slight Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Trauma, Medium Angst & Mild Cursing.
Tumblr media
ROGER'S SON, FIRE FIST ACE, DEAD AT MARINEFORD
This is it. I failed. Two out of three thoughts circled in Y/N's head. Day in and day out. Sun up to sun down. The third, well, the third, was on a loop all its own. A sensation not unlike an iron brand or an ice pick to the chest every time she heard those words inside her head.
Guard him with your life.
That's what Dragon had told her. Her, her mother, her father - her parent's final mission when they set off all those years ago. 'I've hidden something precious on that island. Your mission is to Guard it with your life.' At first, she thought it was just Luffy she was meant to protect. They had docked at Fuschia Village and moved in right next to a little barkeep and one Monkey D. Luffy, and she assumed that was the end of that. Just keep that little twerp out of trouble as best she could, and her mission would be complete.
Then those blasted pirates came to town and threw a wrench in their plans. She should've known those pirates were a goddamned trouble magnet. Bringing mountain bandits down on their heads. Convincing Luffy to stab himself in the face...and that stupid straw hat. After that, things only ever got worse. Luffy was dragged into the mountains by his grandfather, so of course, Y/N chased after him. But then - for reasons unfathomable to her - Luffy started chasing after Ace. The idiot was constantly risking his life for the sake of some stranger who literally put the two of them through Hell.
Of course, that boy would turn out to be the son of a Demon.
Portgas D Ace, the lost son and only descendant of the legendary Gold Roger. A boy she hadn't put any stock in at first. A feral child she assumed to be some spawn that loud-mouthed bandit lady didn't want. At first, the truth sent Y/N reeling.
Wait, is this what Dragon really meant? She thought. Something Precious. Guard it with your Life.
Suddenly, not was she in the presence of the son of Dragon, but also the son of Roger -- two of the most wanted legacies in all the world. Two lives the World Government would love to snuff out for good. Guard it with your life. Guard it with your life. The words kept cycling, skipping, repeating in her head over and over again. So that's what she did.
Sworn to secrecy, Y/N dedicated herself to ensuring that Luffy and Ace survived to reach their majority. Saving Luffy's sorry butt from those blasted Blue Jam Pirates. Bailing that hot-tempered Ace out of fights he couldn't win. Teaching both boys how to sneak behind grownups undetected. To pick their pockets. To play to their sympathies and get what ya want from them. Garp and the bandits called them all reckless hoodlums. But the only hoodlum who had ever reached back and saved her skin - was Sabo.
He knew the lay of the land better than almost anyone. Could navigate both Grey Terminal and the Inner City even with his eyes closed. And if Ace wouldn't listen to her in a fight (which was often), he would listen to Sabo. And that was good enough for her. He was kinder to Luffy than either Ace or Y/N had the patience for, trying his best to train the boy in his devil fruit even with no powers of his own.
Powerless. She remembered that day. The day that golden boy in blue turned himself into - no, for us. Y/N bit her cheek. He left to save us.
She remembered the night when the fire started. Everything happened at once till all that came to mind was a rush of sensations. The smell of burning flesh. The ring of dying screams. The stampede of footsteps, desperate to escape.
'Luffy! Ace!'
Howling and screaming for her parents in the wreckage, when she couldn't see a thing.
'Mama! Papa!'
Lost in the maze of melting metal and tongues of flame. Guard them with your life. Guard them with your life. The words on repeat and repeat and repeat - and then he appeared. The source of that never-ending mantra.
Monkey D. Dragon himself.
Y/N reported the situation, just as she'd been trained. It didn't matter that she was straining for breath. The tears blurring her vision didn't matter. Coarse hands smeared the saltwater and grime from her cheeks.
'Head to the ship,' His deep voice instructed. 'I will take it from here.'
Y/N did as she was told. Upon Dragon's ship, her fellow Revolutionaries were awaiting her. All senior agents and officers. She spent all night in the crow's nest of that ship, watching the black plumes of smoke rise into the night. Eyes eagerly searched the dancing firelight for any silhouette she might recognize.
'Luffy, Ace, Mama, Papa - where are you?'
Surely Dragon would find them. Surely Dragon would take them home. Goa was no longer safe if it ever was. Surely Ace and Luffy could be better protected on Baltigo. Surely she and her family could take a break from active duty. Then finally, she could be honest with her friends.
Her parents never came home.
She never saw her friends again.
Upon the first light of morning, the only thing she saw was the smouldering wastes of Grey Terminal. -What was left of it, anyway. The Revolutionaries set to caring for those who escaped the wreckage. The refugees who now, more so than ever, had truly lost everything. All that day, Y/N's fellow agents looked after the wounded, offering them food and drink, even a place among their ranks. All the while, Y/N kept her eyes fixed on what remained of her family's hunting grounds. The jungle was thankfully untouched. The Upper City almost disgustingly so. But she saw no movement amidst the smoke and metal. No familiar silhouettes. No one.
The only things of note were the sounds of cheering and the blasting of a canon. Some sort of fanfare or festival must've been going on on the other side of the city. The sky scraping sprawl of the Nobles' estates kept Y/N from getting a clear view of its source. The Celestial Dragons must've been approaching the southerly port, she thought. She wouldn't have known that if Sabo hadn't drawn a map for her all those months ago.
Sabo... Her chest ached at the thought. She imagined the boy trapped behind a window in one of those pristine white buildings. His whole life was condemned to stay behind layers upon layers of cold stone walls. If Ace and Luffy died in that fire, their brother would never be free.
And what about me? The thought occurred to her as a chill down her spine. What force for good would she be if she knew he was trapped there and did nothing? What kind of friend would she be if she left them all behind? Yet again, Dragon's commission reverberated in her mind. Guard them with your life. Guard them with your life. --but how?!
Sunlight was already being swallowed by the sea by the time Dragon returned. Y/N could see the black of his cloak wandering between piles of smouldering rubble. But beyond her target's line of sight, something else caught her eye. Out there, floating in on the tide, was a familiar stove pipe hat. The glint of those oversized goggles at their brim was unmistakable.
Sabo!
Without a thought, Y/N leapt from the crows' nest and dove headfirst into that tepid water. The impact stole the breath from her lungs. But she didn't have time to stop. Arms and legs pressed her onwards, chest burning. Through the blur of the salt water, she could see the petite silhouette, those tailored blue clothes stained in smoke and blood.
Blood-?! Y/N paddled faster. The current pushed and pulled her side to side, tearing her off course, but she would not be deterred. Diving deeper, she perched herself on the nearest boulder on the ocean floor. She could feel the pressure of the ocean trying to pull her down. But the shadow cast by Sabo's limp body in the water spurred her on. She pushed off the rock and up towards the surface. Her arms crooked *just so* to catch Sabo under his arms and catapult them into the fresh air.
Foam and shards of wood sprayed around her. Y/N gasped for air. Every muscle burned and ached. Beyond her, a discordant choir of voices were hollering and calling out her name. She could see her leader's black cloak reach the shoreline. His strides paused upon hearing his crew's commotion.
'Dragon-sama!' she cried. 'Here! Right here!'
The Revolutionary turned. Every scrap of seafaring wind squealed in shock at what he saw.
'Help!' Y/N called out. 'He's hurt, please!'
The tides seemed rattled by the change in weather. A breaking wave shoved both Y/N and her unconscious friend forward. Out of her eye, she saw that stove pipe hat getting knocked about in the torrent. Wait-! Grabbing a nearby bar of flotsam wood, Y/N scrambled to hook the hat like a fish on a spear and fling it towards the shoreline. When the next wave hit, she transferred her limp friend's weight from her front to her back. When her feet finally touched the sand, she could race to Dragon's side and snatch Sabo's hat from him.
'We need to get a doctor, sir, right away.'
Dragon blinked. As he scanned the injured Sabo from head to toe, something shifted in his face.
'Y/N, do you know this boy?'
'Yessir,' No reason to lie to her leader. 'He and Luffy were bond brothers.' she glanced at her friend's face. Dripping in saltwater and blood. Everything within her ached. '...All he wanted was to be free.'
Her elder nodded. 'Very well. We can grant him that much.'
And that was the beginning. Or...maybe the end? Y/N never resumed her initial mission in Fuschia Village. When Dragon told her about her parent's fates in the fire, he formally dismissed her from active duty. She tried to press the issue, saying Luffy and Ace still needed her, but to that, he said:
'At least one of them has unlocked Conqueror's Haki. After this, neither should find much danger in the East Blue.'
Your job has been done for you. --He didn't say that last part, but she certainly heard it in his voice. Her mother always said, 'Spies are well versed in the art of subtext'.
Now, years later, come to find out, neither of her East Blue friends had ever been safe. From the moment Ace left Fuschia, he was dogged by an Ensign and then enslaved by a Yonko. Two Yonko, if Y/N's information network was to be believed. She found it hard once she got word that Ace was pursuing an exiled crewmate who'd turned around and murdered another in their ranks. That second Yonkou, Whitebeard - Ace wouldn't have done that if he didn't believe in the old geezer.
Then Luffy was chased to Paradise by an East Blue captain, where he proceeded to dethrone one of the Shichibukai! And several more after that! Hell, Luffy went all the way to Enies Lobby and fucking declared War on the World Government! The first time Y/N read that headline, she swore she nearly had an aneurysm. Meanwhile, Dragon was sitting at the head of the conference table fucking smirking about it. Little did she know things were only gonna get worse from there.
Ace was captured by the Marines.
Ace was sent to the deepest level of Impel Down.
Ace was revealed publicly to be the son of Gold Roger.
Ace was sentenced to be executed at Marineford.
A secret of the highest clearance has been exposed to the world - and Y/N wasn't there to keep him safe. Not like she promised. Not like she'd been tasked to do for as long as she could remember. Her orders were to 'guard them with your life'. ...And she hadn't done it.
The moment she heard the news of Ace's arrest, she raced to Dragon's office immediately. Requested reconnaissance, search and rescue, and any team fast enough to get him out of Impel Down before Luffy decided to pull a stupid and do it himself. Because he would. She knew he would. Because she still knew him, even after all these years.
Being a part of the Revolutionary Army, agents were forbidden from contacting anyone outside their trusted communications channels. Even passing on a message through her own communication network was considered a breach of conduct. Ace and Luffy probably didn't even know she was alive, or that Sabo was alive. But then again...Sabo didn't even know Ace and Luffy existed.
'Sir, if we don't act first, your son is gonna put himself in danger,' She remembered arguing with her leader. Something she never would've dared to do as a child. 'If he dies trying to break Roger's son out of Impel Down, then -'
'You are certain that will be his next course of action?'
'Of course, sir, Luffy and Ace are bond brothers. Same as he and Sabo. Luffy would drop everything to save his Naka-'
'Evidence serves to the contrary.'
'Are you kidding me?!' Dragon threw her a stern look. Y/N winced. 'A-all due respect, sir, but the whole reason Enies Lobby happened is because Luffy was looking to rescue a crewmate.'
'A crewmate who also happens to be a valuable asset,' Dragon noted. 'The last scholar of Ohara capable of reading the Poneglyphs.'
'That's not why he did it, and you know it.'
'Do I?'
You would, if you any spent time with your son. Y/N knew better than to say that retort out loud. Instead, she said: 'Sir, the first orders you ever gave me were to protect the secrets you'd hidden on Goa. Ace may no longer be a secret, but if we don't act, Luffy's cover will be blown, too.'
'Portgas D Ace has nothing to do with your orders.' Dragon said sternly. 'Your request is denied.'
'But Sir-!'
'Our mission is to free the people. Not one man,' The man's eyes were sharp as flint and harder than bedrock. 'Your request is denied, Y/N. Let. It. Go."
And he was right. Y/N hated to say it, or even to think it, if only to herself. But Dragon was right. The resources required to ensure success, either infiltrating Impel Down or foiling his transport to Marineford, would likely ruin their chances completely. If they were to fail, their forces would be wiped out. Their plans for the Reverie would be compromised. And the Revolution could not afford that...not even for the sake of her friend.
The Army's mission was to free the people. Not one man. Dragon was right. She knew. He told her to let it go, and she tried. Tried to fight other battles and go on other missions with Koala and Hack, and Sabo. -But she was off her game. Getting knocked by blades and bullets, she should've been able to dodge. Stealing more files from outposts than they'd actually need. Striking too hard and accidentally killing a few enemy soldiers. Something Hack most definitely disapproved of. Koala pinched her cheeks and tugged on her ears. Tying bandages too tight and making new bruises when Y/N scrambled for excuses. Hack even noted how he sensed her Chakras were out of balance or something.
But the worst part of it was Sabo. At team meetings, he would keep sneaking glances at her. Even when she stood on his left side, where he couldn't see, and his scar left no sign of any eyebrows furrowing in concern - she could still sense it from him. It was in the way he stood close enough to brush her shoulders in the hallway. Or the way he'd play with her fingers under the table. It had started out as a habit to help him sit still during class when they were little. But now, she knew it was a reassuring gesture. Something he did to reassure himself they were both okay. - Which meant he was picking up on the fact that she was not, in fact, okay. And that was a problem.
What she didn't expect what just how big of a problem it would grow to become.
It happened when she was going to Dragon's office, having just gussied up the courage to argue with him about this whole Ace debacle (again). She'd just bypassed Sabo and Koala in the officer's lobby, she caught hold of the whispers in the halls.
'Hey, check it out, the News Coo just arrived,'
'Eh, Hack-san, you better take a look at this,'
'Hm? New on the war, I presume.'
'Yea. It's finally over. The only reported casualties were Whitebeard, the Emporer, and -' Y/N's stomach twisted. '-Fire Fist Ace.'
Every drop of lifeblood in her body immediatley sank to the floor. Y/N's knees shook. The world spun around her. She couldn't think, could barely breathe. Y/N scrambled to clutch the nearest wall for support to keep her upright.
Ace, Ace, no- She gasped. Her eyes burned. Like she was drowning in salt water all over again. the corridor blurred around her. Only she wasn't in a hallway anymore. She was looking up from the bottom of the ocean as someone else's corpse floated above her. Corpses. Y/N clasped a hand over her mouth in an effort to contain her sobs. Ace, Luffy - oh, Luffy....
The headline staring her in the face was more than proof enough. That freckled face. That mane of tangled hair. That wicked smirk pressed ear to ear on the front page of the News Coo - that was him.
That's when she heard it.
A voice screamed - a howling cry of anguish and agony. Y/N's heart seized in her chest.
Sabo.
That's when it all went to shit.
***
Ahhh! This got way out of hand. I am so sorry, my dear but I'm afraid the epic conclusion to this swelling saga has become its own 3rd part. Please forgive my tardiness. I hope when this is all complete, you will find this story well worth the wait.
All the best,
Rose
73 notes · View notes
omg for a guilty gear request, how about baiken x gender neutral reader? maybe u could write about her teaching her partner how to fight ...
Ha Ha! Finally! my first Best Samurai ask!
NOW YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!
Baiken Teaching You How To Fight!
Tumblr media
Right off the bat, Baiken, really, really, REALLY! Didn’t want to be doing this.
She doesn’t even want to imagine you being in a fight.
Too many things could go wrong.
Way too many things.
But Baiken also knew that if you got into a fight without her around the possibility of going bad was higher than if she had taught you what little she could.
So, after a massive amount of deliberation, arguing with herself, and a lot of panicking over the decision…
She decided to teach you, and Delilah, how to fight.
Nothing like her or the few other swordsmen she knew of like Nagoriyuki or Kliff Underson god rest his soul.
But enough for the both of you to get by in a scrap if needs be.
She really hoped it never came to that though.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Your mock blade collided with Baiken’s who parried the blade away and swung her sword which you barely slipped under.
Delilah came from behind, trying to sneak attack Baiken who easily weaved out of the way and countered by throwing her a ways away.
This however gave you a chance to strike.
As you could probably tell though, it didn’t go as well as you would think and you ended up sprawled out next to Delilah.
“Owwwwwwww…” you groaned.
“Why are you so mean to us mother?” Delilah asked in pain.
“It’s tough love Delilah, ya can’t rely on Bed forever.” Baiken retorted.
“And me? What did I do?” You asked.
“Ya were stubborn about getting to know me, so now you get to enjoy the fruits of yer labor.”
You let out another groan.
Soon the familiar sound of Bed rolling to carry you and Delilah inside entered your ears.
You still weren’t totally sold on the still extremely glitchy robot, but Delilah promised that he wouldn’t try to burn the shops down after one of the tables broke and in turn broke her foot so it would have to do.
You and Delilah both happily groaned as the cool metal frame wrapped one arm around each of you to cart you back home.
Baiken shook her head as she walked behind Bed.
“I’m glad the two of them get along well, Delilah ain’t the easiest gal to get along with. Not to mention Bed.” Baiken thought to herself before speaking.
“The two of ya did well today. Tonight, we’ll eat out, my treat.” Baiken told the two of you who immediately perked up.
“You hear that Delilah?” you asked, flabbergasted and wanting to make sure you heard right.
“I did, mother is going to let us eat out!” Delilah responded in the closest thing to excitement she could muster.
“Oi! Don’t be so surprised!” Baiken hissed, a vein in her head throbbing in anger.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
That night, true to Baiken’s word, she took all of you out to eat.
True, you and Delilah felt like you got hit by Sol in dragon install, but it wasn’t too bad.
That was a lie, it was agonizing pain.
Still, the food was good.
So good in fact that Delilah actually ate so much she got tired from it.
And that leads to the current situation you are in now.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Delilah quietly snored as you carried her on your back while walking next to Baiken.
“*Yawn* That was some good food!” you tiredly exclaimed.
“You better not fall asleep on me, I'll leave ya in the streets if ya do.” Baiken told you gruffly.
“Aw! I enjoy your company too!” You happily responded to Baiken’s gruff statement.
In response to this, Baiken quietly muttered under her breath “Only “enjoy?” I’m gonna have to fix that.”
“You say something Baiken?” you asked.
“Nothin for you to be hearing, and shouldn’t you be focusing on keeping yer eyes open?” Baiken told you, dismissing your question.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Baiken is a gruff person.
She might not show it often, but she loves you dearly.
And everything she does with you, is representative of that.
She might not have Anji’s charisma.
Or Jam’s energy.
Or Haeyun’s cuteness.
But she does have a stubborn streak a thousand miles wide and wears her heart on her sleeve when around those she loves.
Baiken might not tell you, but her training is the best way she can show you how much she cares.
Because Baiken is a gruff person
A hard person.
A kind person.
A caring person.
And even though it's hard for her to show that, she has her ways of doing so.
55 notes · View notes
annemarieyeretzian · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Things I was grateful for in April 2024: Good Luck Babe! by Chappell Roan, Creatures In Heaven by Glass Animals, a membership and trip to the San Diego Zoo, Welly bravery bandages, a Mokuyobi fruit sling fanny pack, LUSH Sun solid perfume, LUSH Golden Pineapple lip scrub, Colourpop’s Sage the Day eyeshadow palette, Hawaiian Tropic antioxidant sunscreen lotion, Sun Bum Cool Down aloe vera, a beautiful passeriformes print by Kelzuki, chocolate vanilla swirl soft serve, the Rainbow Warrior drink from Kindred San Diego (where they brought me my receipt tucked into a vintage Dungeons & Dragons book), the Critical Role Welcome to Wildemount soundtrack, Sidecar Doughnuts’ strawberry jam-filled malasadas, the queen @quiddie herself and the Crown Keepers back on my screen, Kind Laundry fragrance-free laundry detergent sheets, and Critical Role’s Ultra Soft Lounge Pajama Set.
19 notes · View notes