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#he was the best dragon during the dance
fragileheartbeats · 21 days
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Me:
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Also Me:
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neuvistar · 7 months
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LOTUS FLOWER. pt one.
— featuring ┊ genshin men (neuvillette, wriothesley, lyney, kaveh, alhaitham) x f!pregnant reader
— warnings / content warnings ┊nsfw. not proofread. all consensual! mentions of breeding k!nk, t!tplay (neuvillette), vaginal fingering (lyney?), implied semi-public s3x (wriothesley), s!ze kink if u squint (alhaitham), dirty talk obvi, them being absolute sweethearts, reader implied 2 be physically smaller than them, cunnilingus (kaveh), nicknames used, overall suggestive content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
— a/n ┊ this is part one guys!! part two will come soon! since i’m a little late for kinktober (oops) i’ve decided to try n do this thingy of my own </3 genshin men w a pregnant partner n maybe i’ll do separate oneshots too throughout the month if im not busy enough, i’ll try my best! i also took time 2 try n improve my writing style n i think it paid off.. anyways reblogs + feedback appreciated ! (guys i wroye this when i’m half asleep #help)
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𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄, 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄
— "love, you're too cute when you pout like that," neuvillette chuckled, lightly pecking your cheeks with soft chaste kisses
NEUVILLETTE has always been your caretaker during your hard months of pregnancy, he was always there to aid you even if he had such a tight schedule! trust me, he’s always there to aid you no matter where he is.. oh you’re craving something? he already had it made and prepared downstairs for you to eat, oh you’re in pain? he’s already massaging your body to calm your nerves, oh you want him to get something for you? he’s already making his way downstairs to get it! let’s all be honest, this dragon is one of the sweetest darlings ever.. he’s just so thrilled that you’re carrying his little dragonlings, he couldn’t be happier! neuvillette’s so gentle with you.. even during intimate moments. neuvillette always has you laying down on a soft surface, his lips dancing across your flesh as his hair tickled your sensitive skin, he knows how to make sure you feel good.. sometimes he gets too lost in the moment he doesn’t even notice the littlest things! trust me, he knows how to make you feel good, he knows how to calm your hormones.. he knows how to pleasure you. neuvillette knows it all.
here you were, laid down comfortably on the mattress.. the sheets beneath you warming you up as you tugged on your husband’s white locks, emitting a soft grunt from him. neuvillette had been too caught up in the moment to notice only a little milk dripping from your other breast. instead, he kissed and sucked at your other one passionately, his hands caressing your waist in between bouts of fondling your tits. the sight of your exposed body sent a deep and primal wave of lust through him, it was enough to send him into pure euphoria as the feeling of your body against him was a kiss from the heavens above and the archons themselves. “my sweet angel," neuvillette whispered gently, his voice soft yet full of passion. "i want to love you from head to toe, i want every part of you to scream my name in delight.. i want you to experience pleasure beyond your wildest imagination. please, let me give you more litters of dragonlings inside this irresistible body of yours..”
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘, 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄
— “you’re positive, right? you sure you’re alright?” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against your neck
WRIOTHESLEY honestly never thought of having kids himself, but that all changed when you announced your pregnancy to him a few months prior.. he was thrilled! a little shocked and nervous to say the least, since he was nervous he wouldn’t be a good husband and father to your future kids but it went by smoothly, wriothesley had a major soft spot for you and only you. his face always fills with love and joy as he took note of your swollen and pregnant belly, sometimes he lets you wander around the fortress but sometimes he knows you’re sensitive to many smells and all that so he just keeps you in the house. but yet sometimes.. he has too much on his hands that he never has time to come home. visiting him at work became a frequent thing but he grew more protective of you, telling w few workers down at the fortress to scram if they bother you too much. wriothesley loves having you around his office, but yet, huh.. who knew visiting him here could also have it’s benefits.
wriothesley held your knees, his large hands engulfing your flesh as he grunted at the mere pulse of your pussy around his cock. he knew he shouldn’t be doing this, someone could walk in any moment but who was he to deny his own wife? he can’t deny you when you’re all shy and embarrassed like that.. asking him to fuck you and breed you just like he did those few months before, who was he to deny a request like that? the larger male had kept a slow and steady rhythm with you, he promised himself he wouldn’t listen to your begging.. begging for him to go faster. but i guess it’s fine to break promises every now and then, right? wriothesley picked up the pace as he rubbed his thumb against your clit, the feeling of his cock pounding deep inside your cunt was enough to send you to the moon. “fuck.. taking me so well, princess.. ‘gonna make me cum quicker than normal.” he whispered against your ear, caressing your belly ever so gently.. his gentleness corresponding with his harsh thrusts. “what, hm? you want someone to see you in this state? ‘want someone to catch me breeding my pretty pregnant wife in my office?— mm.. seems like y’do.. look at how much you’re sucking me in.”
𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄
— “oh? someone’s moody today.. did i do something wrong, sweetheart? you know i didn’t mean it, c’mon! talk to me.”
LYNEY was one of the main reasons for your constant smiles and giggles throughout the day, your baby isn’t even born yet and he’s already an excellent father! the magician always sits down and chats with you, chatting about all sorts of things. what you both can name your baby(s), what magic tricks he can teach to them, how adorable they’ll look in clothes he bought for them.. he’s excited to be a father and he makes that clear! he spreads the news to lynette and freminet, and sometimes he might accidentally spread the news throughout public eyes. i mean, in a positive way! lyney takes great pride in being the father of your kids, he wants you to stay healthy and happy so your pregnancy goes smoothly, that’s all he wants. lyney’s touch is always so gentle.. caressing you like you were a mere piece of glass he had to protect.. there was something about his touch that just never fails to make you squirm, he’s good with his hands, of course you know that.. he’s just so gentle with you in many ways possible, it drives you absolutely insane sometimes.
“yeah? you like that? hmm.. how about you show me where else you would like me to touch you, go on.” his voice was just as hypnotic as his gaze.. lyney’s lips pressed against your neck as he waited for you to show him. “c’mon, you can do this.” he urged you on, you could feel your hands moving on their own as your hands made their way to your breasts, pinching your sensitive nipples in between your fingers with your mouth hung open in pure ecstasy, sending nothing but deep electric vibrations throughout your body. “l—lyney.. here. i want you to touch me here.” your voice was laced with honey, the magician could’ve sworn he could taste and sense the need and want in your tone, it only made him desire you more. “mm.. we both know that’s not all, sweetheart. show me another, and show me how you want me to touch you there.” your other hand came down slowly, lazily playing with your clit as your body shook at the even the softest touch. lyney hummed against your ear as he pressed his finger gently against your lips, trying to silence you as he gazed down at your swollen belly the blonde magician held you close, pumping two fingers inside your hole, smirking against your skin. “there, there.. good girl. such a good girl for me, are you?”
𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇, 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓
— “alright.. i have this, this and this for you. do you need anything else? still hungry?”
KAVEH is a a good and caring husband.. though sometimes he’s a little too busy, which often frustrates you since he isn’t there to support and be by your side half of the time. honestly, you can’t blame him sometimes, he always comes home late with a shit ton of papers and piles and piles of sketches and drawings he made that day, kaveh’s always busy, you can’t stop or deny that. most of the time, he makes up to you by providing you with the things you like.. like food you’ve been craving! kaveh adores talking to his baby within your belly, always talking about how ‘papa is always there for them’ and how much he loves them. to put it in a more easier way, the young architect considers your pregnancy an absolute blessing, you were sure he kissed the floor and thanked every star in the universe when he found out you were expecting his little one, he was overjoyed! despite his busy tasks, kaveh will be willing to provide you with anything you want. especially pleasure.
“you want me to please you here?” his voice rung in your ears, nodding slowly as you bit your lip. you missed this, you missed him. kaveh had too many rough and difficult schedules already, you missed him and his touch.. you missed everything, but tonight he was gonna give it all. your lashes slowly fluttered open as your hands tightened your grip on his shoulder, kaveh smiled softly, his eyes looking deep into yours with affection. "i’m giving you what you want now, sweet angel.” the architect caressed your thighs as he slowly lifted your dress up and started to caress your stomach. "you’ve certainly become quite attractive with your pregnancy bumps," he whispered softly, smiling warmly before he allowed his urges take over, closing his eyes as his tongue mingled with your folds, giving small kitty licks before pushing himself further into you, savouring your juices. he was slow, yes.. but he wanted to get used to your taste again, flicking his muscle against your sensitive bundles of nerves as he allowed himself to get lost in your taste, palming the bulge through his pants. “let go, lovely. let me claim you once more.”
𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌, 𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐄
— “tell me, go on. what do you need? i’m in all ears.”
AL-HAITHAM is a hard individual to read, that’s for sure. sometimes you couldn’t really tell if he was happy about some story you decided to share with him and whatnot, but one thing you do know is that he’s absolutely thrilled about your pregnancy. alhaitham would be lying to himself if he said that the sight of your expanded belly didn’t awaken something in him. he’s always there, helping you around despite how busy he gets sometimes.. he’s calm and collected, sometimes you’d catch him talking to your baby when you’re asleep, talking about how pretty their mama is, and how excited he is to teach them about his own knowledge about this world they’re about to enter, he’s excited for his baby to be born and you know it. well.. maybe a little too exited.
he tried to be gentle, he really did. but you know he can’t resist you when you’re whining and whimpering like this, especially with that beautiful round belly of yours. alhaitham can’t help himself, really. he was needy, needy for you. he needed you and he needed you now. the scribe bit his lip as his large hands grabbed at your hips, lifting you further against him as his cock slid into your cunt so perfectly. alhaitham’s thoughts went blank at the sound of you calling his name in that way, as if you were speaking words of pure music. “mmh.. look at you. look at how good you’re taking me, even when you’re pregnant you’re still a slut for my cock now, aren’t you?” his hair fell onto his shoulders in wet clumps, “so fuckin’ full, so damn soft. you’re all round and smooth, the perfect body to bear our children." his dick buried myself into your walls, your juices coating it with white, “just like all my other possessions, this body is mine. maybe i should even put my name on it.. so damn perfect, yeah?”
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mediumsizedpidegon · 9 months
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Another avenue I want to explore in an Amity Park is Weird scenario is all the niche sub-cultures going on.
There is absolutely NO WAY there isn't a thriving goth community in Amity Park. They're holding picnics every full moon. They're holding crafting sessions in their friends' basements. They're adopting ghost animals left and right: eight-legged dogs and blob-cats, skeletal fish and neon bearded dragons.
There's a young man called Raphael who performs live music every week at a dance club with his band: he's got a myriad of shiny piercings, and a phone camera roll full of his rabbits, Morningstar and Salem. Perhaps those ghosts are bad business like the Fentons say, but the club's never felt more alive.
The scene and emo kids are multiplying at a rapid rate. The punks and grunge folks are doing shit with textiles that makes every quilting grandmother in a five mile radius swoop in to pass on their skills. Josie and Betty, old friends who periodically upload photos online of their handmade lace, suddenly gain an influx of young folks who want to learn how to make their own ghoulish patterns.
There's a new group peeling off from the goths that dress like the embodiment of Halloween– all bones, pumpkin orange and lengths of costume jewelry.
The historical costuming community is alive and well in these times, and they fall upon the few ghosts from times past willing to share knowledge like starving wolves. Their minds are full of patterning-math and fabric prices, and their excitement is, quite literally, infectious.
A revolution starts up in food service: a great many restaurants closed or moved to follow the many people who left Amity after the ghosts first came. A pair of brothers open a restaurant that has the best Polish food around: people politely don't comment on how the owners are dressed in clothes a century out of date or how their eyes gleam. Two cat cafes open, one space themed and another with loose definitions of what counts as a "cat." Assorted coffee and tea shops dot the landscape: some serve donuts, some have cupcakes, and others have breakfast wraps, sandwiches or savory hand pies.
People that can't afford to open a restaurant sell food out of their homes, advertised by cardboard signs with phrases like CAKES FOR $10, and BARBEQUE RIBS FOR SALE painted on them in gigantic bright letters. High school students bring in bags of cookies they made the night before and completely sell out of stock before the day is done. One woman's house has no signage and yet is known by word of mouth to be a herbalist, selling tins of homemade tea blends, flowers, assorted plant clippings, and cough drops.
Someone down the street of Casper High sells small batches of eco-friendly soap at a nearby corner store.
During summer time, lemonade stands are everywhere. Some of the lemonade is made with the strange fruits from one of the parks: no one dies, so it's fine.
The Farmer's Market has gotten... intense.
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salaciousdoll · 7 months
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✩˚。⋆ ⋆ ⋆ Girl Ride ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ˚。✩
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・˳ . ⋆ brought to you by Shinichiro Sano x Chubby!Fem!reader ・˳ . ⋆
Synopsis: Shinichiro takes you on a ride, will you hop on or no?
୨୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Be advised to the warnings of smut, Cockwarming, Cheating( a bunch of cheating with both of your relationships), exhibition( heavy here), public sex, agoraphilia, fat pussy justice here, final timeline au, shin is a bit cocky here and it’s because of you, implied creampie, big dick!Shin, voyeurism, 1st generation black dragons take a ride with you and Shin, Izana is your ex boyfriend who cheats on you with Shin’s girlfriend, your bestfriend is shin’s gf, do not try this in real life or else you’re can potentially end up on the se* offender list( you are warned), wrap it up everyone, pet names( Princess, doll, butterfly, and little mama by Benkei), I just feel like he’ll call girls he like that sorry not sorry, let me know if I missed anything
Wc: 3.1k
Minors do not interact, 18+
ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚Note from Salaciousdoll: I hope you all enjoy this just as much I enjoyed writing this. I haven’t been in the writing part of the fandom in a long time, so take this as a peace offering for neglecting these beautiful men and you girlies and guys that’s been following me because of them. These are my writing roots and I couldn’t completely forget about them, so thank you all and I hope you enjoy again. And again, do not try this for real specially on a motorcycle
゚•┈୨ Salaciousber Masterlist ୧┈•゚。. •┈୨ Taglist ୧┈•゚。
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The leaves were idyllic as they danced their way down the trees and onto the sidewalk in front of Shinichiro’s SS motors shop with Inupi. The sky was pitch black with brown clouds gathering across it since it was night. The season of fall was beautiful everywhere and you just couldn’t stop staring at the colorful leaves as four men spoke in the background. One of them was the man your “best friend” cheated on. The man was so quick to forgive her for her wrongs, but you weren’t. The feeling of being cheated on by your bestfriend and man hurts so much. You couldn’t understand what made her cheat on Shinichiro with your man.
The man you liked but didn’t love. She broke the girl code with him. Girl code you two valued ever since you were younger or in this case, teenagers. It was sickening to your stomach when you saw the video tape she sent to Shinichiro, it’s like she wanted to break the poor man's heart. The video did more damage to you than Shin by virtue of the movements and positions they did. What really got you when Shin showed it to you was the way he and she were laughing it up on camera. The words and phrases of “ stoppp, not anymore.” Or “ wouldn’t want them to find out so hush” were stamped into your head and as you looked closely, you noticed the settings of where they were fucking. In your bedroom and at the Halloween party you threw. The cat girl costume she had on and the ugly ass king costume he had on gave it away as well.
And how you know it was your room they were fucking in, the cheetah print sheets with the pink fur runner across the bed gave it away. You were so glad you didn’t sleep on your bed that night, instead you slept in Shinichiro’s bed. You and Shin were never supposed to happen but a part of you was glad it happened. His friends have been wanting y’all to happen since you got introduced to him by his cheating ass girlfriend, the same girl who introduced you to your boyfriend on the same day. His friends hated how love sick Shinichiro was over your friend. He needed better and you were better for him mainly because they saw how you were with your boyfriend when he came around his brother and friends—visiting the shop. So when Shinichiro told them of his scandal, during that moment; he got the video message from his girlfriend. You found out a day later and now you frequently visit Shinichiro and his friends at the shop.
You were still lost in your head when you heard a loud shout of your name being called, snatching you out of the daydream, you turned to the voice and saw Shinchiro smiling at you with his hand out, “ Let’s go riding, Doll.” That nickname, that’s the same nickname he called you while he was deep in your guts.
You smiled at the little snippet of your memory prior to taking his hand in yours and walking to his bike. You were about to get on when he suddenly turned to his friends, “ You all can go ahead, have to talk to { reader}. Meet ya’ out there?”
Wakasa nodded as Takeomi patted Shinichiro on the back and Benkei put his hand on Shinichiro’s head, ruffling his hair. They all left with smirks— looking at Shinichiro as they left, you raised an eyebrow, “ What’s wrong?”
Sitting on his bike, Shinichiro grabbed your hand and smiled up at you, “ I remember our conversation that night about how you wanted to experience exhibition and bike riding, let’s do it while we ride in the night, on the highway .” Your eyes widened and you looked around to see if anyone heard him, nobody was near you two.
He laughed and pointed to the front of the shop since you were in the back of the shop, “ Inupi’s up there handling closing the shop up so don’t worry about him and you should know that everyone else is out in the front waiting for us on their bikes. Hop on princess, cockwarm me as I drive us to a spot we went when we were your age and see the star in the big black ink.”
You laughed at his description of the sky, “ How is it gonna work? We could go to jail and end up on the register sex offender list Shin, we both don’t need to be on there and besides it was just something to lead to us fucking, I didn’t think you actually listened.”
Shinchiro squeezed your hand and looked at you with his pretty onyx eyes, “ We’re not gonna get caught because of you facing me while I drive us and besides you’re not moving an inch, the ride is. But say the word no and we can just stay here, doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be around you.” This was so wrong, especially when you were starting to feel something for Shinichiro after weeks together. That’s abnormal. This entire situation was because you were becoming no better than your best friend.
You thought about it and wanted to do it badly, especially with the ex-1st generation black dragon leader. You are years younger than the 43 year old— tempting automatically. Older man with a motorcycle was your dream, so you for sure said yes. He hurried to unzip his pants and stroked his hard cock three times. Fuck, you missed the feeling of his cock inside of you. Large and fulfilling were the words to describe him. Such a beautiful cock too, illustrated with a pretty, tan-blushed tip with one vein running on the side. The curve of his cock was so unique and beautiful to you, it curved to the right. He didn’t have a bunch of hair, it was trimmed down. You wanted to suck him, but they’ll have to wait. You were so glad that Shincihiro had a crazy amount of sex appeal with or without showing his dick. You were wet as he was holding your hand, only getting wetter at the thought of fucking in public.
You were glad you were slightly trimmed and got in the shower before this get together with Shinichiro and his friends. You swiftly moved your pretty cheetah print panties to the side after lifting up your mini skirt. Your pussy was so pretty to Shinichiro and will always be pretty to him. Your pussy was so fat and pretty, especially with your panties pulled to the side. He watched you placed your legs on the side of his— watching the way you shook on his body was enough to make him fuck you even more when you two get to the destination.
Shinichiro paid attention to the way you bit your lip to hold back a loud moan erupting from how far he stretched you out, “ Don’t hold back on me, princess. You know the deal already.” You could hear the sternness in his voice and knew he wasn’t playing. You were taking your time and teasing him with the little roll of your hips. Shinichiro had enough of your teasing and grabbed a hold of your love handles or hips and slammed you down on his cock.
“ Ahnnn, so deep… s’deep inside .”, You moaned out with your head thrown back and your eyes closed tightly. Shinchiro groaned at your pussy locking in on him. This ride was gonna be torture and fun. He was about to say fuck it all and just fuck you right and now, but Takeomi’s annoying bangs on the window and annoying ass voice was yelling at them about “taking too damn long” and “hurry up”.
Shinichiro revved his engine up, earning a moan from you as you clenched around him even more. The clench of your pussy around him was like the butterfly effect due to him moaning right after you, almost cumming inside of you.
He rode out his garage to his shop with the bike still vibrating underneath you two. Your clit was heavily affected by this because vibrations to the most sensitive part of your body never goes well. Shinichiro spoke to you after smacking your ass with his large, clammy hand, “ Open your mouth, I want you to hold my spit until we get to the highway. Can you, nmgh, can you do that for me, my pretty princess? Breathe play, okay? You can always opt out and swallow anytime just prepare the consequences.”
He tapped your chin with his finger and you obliged happily— tilting your head, so he could spit inside of it. And he did. If you had to describe his spit, it would be a warm watery filling. Tasted like beer and cigarettes though, not a good taste, but you’ll accept anything Shinichiro gives you.
You tried to make yourself look normal since his spit was in your mouth as he drove near his friends. Takeomi had a cigarette hanging out his mouth when he yelled out, “ Finally, now let’s go and why is she sitting like that?”
Shinchiro had a smug look on his face and looked at you, watching as you shook your head, speaking afterwards, “ Ask her, not me.” He knew you couldn’t speak, yet he still included you in to speak. Being teased is no fun. Takeomi looked in your eyes and saw how they were beginning to water and knew what exactly was happening, you were cockwarming Shinichiro. Takeomi’s face could’ve almost morph into the grinch with the way he was smirking— revving up his engine and riding off with loud laughter.
Wakasa was confused so he asked you the famous question, “ Why are you sitting like that, { reader}? You just want to sit like that or…?” Wakasa trailed off his sentence with a smirk as he sucked on his lollipop.
Benkei took notice of how bad you were shaking and chuckled to himself— fist bumping Wakasa and then Shinichiro after, patting you on the head when he was done with them, “ Cockwarming him, little mama. You’re so naughty and bold tonight, hope you’re ready for the ride, little mama. Let see how long you can hold on until you break.”
Your whine was muffled and Shinichiro chuckled, “ She’s doing something else too. Wanna join in on the teasing boys. All you have to do is ask her questions about anything and everything, she can’t talk not once and that’s mainly due to my spit inside of her mouth. If she does swallow and answer a question, you join the fray. Let’s have fun like we’re young again.” Shinichiro revived his engine three more times, pulling off afterwards with Wakasa and Benkei in tow.
He turned the corner and rode down the street catching up to Takeomi, who was waiting for them to catch up. Shinichiro wanted you to have a helmet on, but he needed to see your facial expression when you cum on his cock.
Shin rode over a speed hump and you both elicited a moan out each of your mouths, “ Fuck, you’re doing s’good f’me, princess. Grind on that shit.” And you did, well tried. You moved your hips back and forth causing both of you to grip on something. He gripped on his motorcycle's handles and you gripped onto his back. His eyes almost closed and Waka snapped him out of it with a shout of his name. Shinichiro looked over at Waka as an answer, “ Keep your eyes open, Shin, I know it’s some amazing pussy, but you gotta not crash, alright?”
Shinichiro gulped and nodded his head, as for you, you were trying not to swallow his spit but a part of you wanted to swallow to get fucked by all of them. What can you say? They were handsome, older men. Perfect for you. You were in your mid 20s and they were in their early 40s.
Wakasa smirked at you as you looked at him from behind Shin’s head, “ You wouldn’t mind telling us why and how you thought of this? Shinichiro isn’t this crazy and daring.” Wakasa smiled when he saw you roll your eyes at the bump Shinichiro hit on purpose, meaning his cock was reaching your cervix, making you feel so good that it was torturing trying to answer his question and trying not to moan out loud.
Takeomi tried next with a wide ass smirk on his face as he asked the question, “ How would Izana feel knowing you’re out here fucking his older brother on his bike? Hmm.” You closed your eyes tightly and tried to ignore their shouts of questions.
Benkei shouted a question next as they all spread out prior to riding together again, passing by multiple cars. “ The question is how would Mikey feel as well? I mean, with knowing that his crush is fucking his older brother. He’s gonna be so mad at both of you.”
Your eyes suddenly popped open and you lifted your head about to swallow to answer until Shincihiro spoke, “ Remember, princess, you speak, you get punished.”
You sighed and wrapped your arms back around Shin’s neck, your cunt was squeezing around his cock so good. In your head, it was jumbled and mushiness. You tried to make out words but couldn’t because you were too fucked out without even being fucked properly.
In truth, you wanted to say that you didn’t know about Mikey’s crush on you so how did they know, yet the words just weren't coming to you. Shinichiro kept driving until they got to the stop light and when he did, he pressed the brakes hard— your pussy squelched as his cock thrusted into you. You couldn’t help but to let out a muffled moan, “ Mmmph!”
Shinchiro kissed you as he moved your hips up and down with his big hands. He was glad nobody was at the stop light since it’s like 2 am in the morning, still nighttime too. The other three men watched as he fucked you. Each wanting a piece of you as they saw you trying to hold yourself together, “ my pretty little, nngh! Shit! Tighten that pussy up for me, just like this.” You were fucking in public and hope you got caught by the police. The thrill of it all is all too much and you were sure you were about to squirt anytime soon.
When the light turned green, Shinchiro rode off so fast and you clenched tightly around him because of the emotion of fear creeping into your body like a ghost taking possession of you. Shinichiro laughed when Benkei said something but you couldn’t make it out since his engine was so damn loud, well all of their engines were loud as hell in the night, plus with the way his dick pulsed inside of you, you couldn’t hear anything.
Shinichiro finally got to the stoplight for you to enter the highway and his dick felt so good inside of you because he was driving down and then straight. Every movement of his bike, his cock thrusted into your pussy, giving you the dick you wanted and needed for a long time.
Once you all got into the lanes with Shinichiro in the middle lane and the other three behind him in the other lanes, you rode off with speed, probably going over the speed limit. The breeze on your face, through your clothes, and on your pussy was beautiful and added a cold feeling to your pleasure. You were in love with the night at the moment.
Shinchiro kissed you prior to licking your lips with his warm tongue, “ Swallow now, butterfly. You can swallow now. Let me hear those pretty moans.”
You hurried and swallowed his spit, letting out a huge exhale after inhaling in his spit for about two minutes max, “ Ahhn, I ne- need moreee. Give me more Chiro’. Want you to cum inside this pussy just so I could take it back to your brother.”
You had to yell it out and he loved it even more. Waka definitely had to get you after this because there’s no way a girl this bold can slip through his fingers. Benkei almost told Shinichiro to stop by a vacant parking lot off the highway, he wanted to fuck you until you were crying and messy. And Takeomi wanted your tits in his face whilst riding him until he’s drained and dry.
Shinichiro started to move in a zig zag motion, zooming past two or three cars to get back to an empty like highway, “ fuck, baby.” He lifted your skirt and smacked your ass, “ Wanna me to fill you up and send you back to my little brother, yeah? Such a dirty little slut he lost…” he then gripped the fat of your ass in one hand while his other hand was still on his bike, “ Let’s teach my little brother a lesson, shall we? Izana wouldn’t like it, but he should’ve thought twice about his decision. I Keep - uughhh- telling him that.``
Shinichiro’s moans were a beautiful melody and you couldn’t get enough of it. Shinchiro seen an exit and let you grip onto his back with one arm and his neck with the other as you continued to grind on him. Your orgasm hit you as soon as he swerved into the exit lane, “ Fu-uhhhhhh, thank you. Thank you. M’cummin. M’ gonn— unnnn.”
Your pussy convulsed around his cock like a heartbeat as you came undone on his cock especially with the three pairs of eyes trained on your face as you held onto Shinichiro. You didn’t care about anything or couldn’t care about anything at the moment because your orgasm made you see blackness.
Shinichiro orgasmed as soon as he got up the hill of the exit of the highway, so he had to pull over on the curb because if he didn’t, he would’ve crashed. “ Shit— baby, fucking perfect. Aah— my little brother is never getting you back. Mmmgh.” He meant every word he said and the men behind him knew he was for real.
You were still shaking against his chest as you held onto him tightly with his cock pumping cum into your pussy. He was sure that your cream was dripping down his cock and onto his pants. He laughed at the feeling and thought, kissing your forehead and rubbing your back, “ You did perfect for me, pretty princess. Perfect pussy, perfect body and moans. My perfect little doll.” Your eyes closed as he kept kissing your semi-sweaty forehead with his bike still rumbling underneath you. Your pussy was soon gonna go into overstimulation from it and he knew you needed more. You deserved more.
He turned his head back to the men who stared at you and him silently, “ wanna share for tonight?” They all nodded their heads eagerly prior to him turning back to you as you slump against his chest, “ Gonna let them join in the fun, baby?” You nodded without any thought, soon letting out a small “ yes daddy”.
Shinichiro smiled and kissed your head again, “ Then, let’s go.”
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ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•゚ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed @angelshub and anyone else who wants to be tagged
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゚•┈© all right reserved to salaciousdoll, she does not give permission to steal, plagiarize, and translate.
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I don’t understand the fandoms love for Daemon, by all rights he should be as hated as Joffrey was. Not only did he do almost everything Joffrey did, he also did worse. Even Tywin wouldn’t hold a candle to his cruelty. I understand liking a villainous character, I do too with Cersei and Tywin, but I’ve never went out of my way to whitewash their characters. I love them because they are villainous and practically irredeemable, if team black stans liked Daemon for his villainous actions before and during the Dance of Dragons I wouldn’t have any problems with it. But the fact that they go out of their way to defend him killing Rhea Royce because “he was forced into a marriage he didn’t like!!!!” As if she wasn’t too. And the fact that they defend him sending Blood and Cheese to psychologically torture Haelena and kill Jaehaerys due to “a son for a son it’s only right” when they despise Alicents moment of madness when her son was denied justice, makes me want to hurl.
It’s alright to like villainous characters, it doesn’t make you a bad person if you like them. But you know what makes you a moronic person? Whitewashing everything that makes a character compelling because you want to like them without seeming like a ‘bad person’. Your opinion on a character does not determine your own morality, it doesn’t make you better or worse than someone who hates them. But what it does, when you erase their entire identity as a rouge to make them more palatable to you, is make you seem moronic, stupid, and lacking any critical thinking and reading comprehension skills.
Rhaenyra is a compelling character because she is entitled and spoiled and lacks any political experience, she shows how badly Viserys fucked up when he tried to compensate for his guilt of murdering Aemma. Alicent is a compelling character because she is a mother who is trying her best to protect her children from the reality that if Daemon took the throne for Rhaenyra, he would kill all of them because they are a threat. She is even more of a compelling character in the books because of her ambition and cunning and want for her family to rise far above the ‘station’ of being a noble house in the Reach (as if house Hightower aren’t the oldest house in Westeros who could trace their lineage back to both the Garth Greenhand the high king of the first men and the Andal Kings that came afterwards). Daemon, for all that I dislike him as a character, is compelling for his ruthlessness and shortsightedness in his pursuit of the throne. He didn’t raise an army for Viserys because he thought he was a competent leader, he did it because it raised his own standing within Westeros, he groomed Rhaenyra not because he loved her, but because having him in her good graces means that he stood a better chance of being king after she was named heir. His ruthlessness is compelling. Taking it away to make him into a ‘malewife’ or a ‘loving father’ or a man who is lacking any ambition beyond wanting a valyrian wife is taking away his agency. It makes him seem like a Gary Sue who only wants the throne because his brother said Rhaenyra was heir. It makes it so that he is so completely white bread like that not even I, someone who loved the more morally bankrupt characters in ASOIAF can find him agreeable in any way shape or form.
Daemon is a fundamentally morally bankrupt character and he should stay that way. If you like him you should acknowledge and accept that he is one of the ‘bad guys’. Just as Cersei fans acknowledge and accept that she is fundamentally a morally bankrupt person who is selfish to the extreme. We like morally black characters because they are morally black. To make excuses for their actions is to take away their agency which makes them unlikable and very hate-able.
Daemons actions aren’t justifiable, blood and cheese would never be justified. A son for a son is akin to the visceral disgust the fandom had to Alicent when she asked for Lucerys’ eye, yet I bet when season two comes out and Blood and Cheese happens we’d see Daemon fans applauding and trying to justify it as ‘not that bad’ and ‘team green deserved it because of Aemond’s actions’ when little Jaehaerys, a boy of 6, was as far removed from the incident as can be. It would be akin to Team Green saying that due to Jaehaerys’ death, Aegon III or Viserys II deserved to have their head cut off in front of Rhaenyra.
Let morally bankrupt characters be morally bankrupt. You aren’t morally bankrupt because you like said character, it’s a fictional story loosely based on Empress Matilda. It’s not that deep. Like the characters you like without trying to justify their actions. They might be monstrous but you aren’t because you like them. It’s not a measure of your own character because you like said character. But it is a measure of your intelligence when you try to change said character’s entire personality to make it so that they are more digestible to you and everyone else.
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minhosimthings · 4 months
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Girl Dad!Skz headcannons
Pairings: husband!Skz × wife!fem!reader
Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, mentions of pregnancy, reader wears a dress, mentions of food, teensy swearing
A/N: GUESS WHO HAS BABY FEVER AYY ITS THIS BITCH RIGHT HERE. I am so DONE with watching my fav idols play with babies and not expect me to die. WHERE IS MY CHAN WHO'LL GIVE MR A BABY HUH? anyways enjoy my very drunken headcannons
Bang Christopher Chan
DID I JUST HEAR BEST DAD IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD
This man was born to be a dad istg
He'd be so amazing when you're pregnant, like he'd ask his mom for advice, give you belly rubs if your ask and will willingly lend his entire closet to you.
Would be so supportive through the birth process, is not disgusted or anything because he is him.
"She looks just like you."
Would be just a teensy bit overprotective, just a teensy bit.
"And you will bring her back by 7 yes? Oh and what's your address for unrelated purposes?"
*sends the address to Minho incase he needs to murder anyone*
Would be so comforting when she gets her period
"you know I used to do this to your mother.", While massaging her back.
The baby would grow up multilingual and Chan would be so smug about it
"my daughter is my second producer
Lee Minho/Lee Know
Would have such mixed emotions when you tell him you're pregnant
On the one hand A PERSON MADE UP OF BOTH OF YOU? WOAH
On the other hand OH SHIT A PERSON WHO HAS BOTH OUR GENES
Cooks all your weird ass cravings for you but not before giving you a side eye
"Alright y'all are gonna get a sibling." *Is talking to the cats*
Buys everything cat themed
"baby what if the baby is a dog person?"
Y'all have twins, a boy and a girl (manifesting my twin dad Minho fantasies)
Would dance for them when they're babies and would get elated when they try to copy him
Pouts when their first word is mama
Brags so much about them
"I mean they are MY spawn, obviously they're better at dance than your kid, Susan"
Seo Changbin
GIRL DAD GIRL DAD GIRL DAD
So elated when you tell him you're pregnant
PREGNANT CUDDLES KZKSNSNJ
Would be a 100% on board with lifting your belly to save your back
When you find out it's a girl, he straight on sobs.
"I CAN'T HANDLE ANOTHER PAIR OF ADORABLE YN EYES LOOKING AT ME"
Holds the baby extra carefully in his buff ass arms
She looks like you part 2
Tea parties with her are serious buisness for him
"jagi can't you see im currently discussing with the princess about her magical dragon I'll do the dishes later."
Would probably ask her if she wants to go to the gym with her dad and when she says yes he'd be so happy
"you're better than your mother she can't even lift her ass up and go to the gym"
Hwang Hyunjin
When I say this man would paint you a portrait when you tell him you're pregnant-
HE'LL PAINT YOU A FUCKING PORTRAIT
So sweet with you all throughout but also a nervous wreck
Much like me
Would love to paint your belly if you allow him to
Would try your weird cravings with you
And actually like them
Let's not pretend like Hyun doesn't do the pregnant woman pose everyday
Cries so hard when your baby is born
He doesn't mind the gender or anything, but when he found out it's a girl-
"GUYS ITS A MINI Y/N"
She looks like you part 3
Such a clumsy mess when it comes to taking care of her
ART CLASSES ART CLASSES ART CLASSES
"Darling, we painted this for you."
Han Jisung
Immediately freezes when you tell him
Jisung.exe has stopped working
"wait so the protection didn't.... Protect?"
Now Y/N.exe has stopped working trying to figure out whether you actually used protection or not
Talks to your belly all day
Treats the baby like a gossip partner
"girl you won't believe what Hyunjin did today."
"what did he do?"
"yn shush I'm talking to our baby girl."
Is your personal high school cheerleader during the birth
"jagi you are slaying right now you can do this."
Cries when baby is born part 3
Calls her a co-producer part 2
Spoils her shitless
She has him wrapped around her finger, much like her mother :)
Making playlists with her is his love language
Lee Felix Yongbok
Did I just hear breeding kink
Cries when you tell him
Bakes so many brownies when you tell him like one time that you're craving his brownies
Makes your weird cravings part 3
Idk what it is with me and DanceRacha making all your weird cravings
Runs you baths, with bath salts, bath bombs, scented candles and massages your aching muscles I WILL DIE RIGHT NOW
Is the best during the birth, holds your hand allowing you to squeeze it as hard as you want
Dresses baby up like the fashionista she is
Is so amazed and ecstatic when the baby gets an Aussie accent
"JAGI SHE JUST SAID BREKKIE"
Kim Seungmin
Tsundere daddy meow
Will literally melt like his face will be like 🥺
Buys all the cute stuff on day one
I'm talking cradles, blinkies, toys, bonnets for some reason
"of course she needs a ponyo outfit darling come on"
Tones down his teasing a bit
Still makes fun of your penguin walk tho
And if you cry, he will comfort you and never forgive himself for it
Is kinda disgusted by the birth process but he's a strong soldier
Cries when baby is born part 4
Like Kim Seungmin crying is a real thing chat
Singing lessons are free for her, and she has her dad's angel voice!!
Also inherits her dad's roasting style, and she's the only one who can roast him back hehe
He kinda died inside when she told him he was old (he's never been prouder)
Yang Jeongin/ I.N
Bruh this guy istg
Mixed emotions part 2
"IM TOO YOUNG TO HAVE A CHILD"
Calms down eventually (after a slap on the head)
BELLY RUBS
Spoils the shit out of you because obviously
Asks his mum for advice part 2
Sings to your belly at night when he thinks you're asleep
Secretly hopes baby will have his dimple
He loves kids, so parenting is a natural thing that comes to him
Probably more experienced at holding a baby than you are
Feeds her for the first few days when you're tired
Perfect husband honestly he should marry me
Loves braiding her hair and giving her fashion advice
Mini fashion shows!!!
Dances with her a lot
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months
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@ablev92 can't leave the boy hanging with nothing. This is not exactly your idea but something that hopefully will still scratch the itch. 🤍✨
His girl
"It's beyond me how you stomach that guy," Violet breathed out, her body slumping onto the mat. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Xaden was desperate to keep her alive. Wasn't hard to see why especially considering that he had so openly brought her to train away from the rest of the group and with the rebellion bunch.
"Less talking more working, give me five more", you tapped Violet's thigh, urging her to do a couple more sit-ups. The girl's muscles were nowhere to be seen. It still was beyond you how she wasn't swept by the wind while crossing the Parapet. She huffed as she pulled up time after time. Then maybe the brain was the better asset to possess. "Rest for a bit, I don't want to see your lunch all over the floor", you threw a water bottle her way that she barely caught, chugging it down in no time.
You let yourself sink to the floor as you too started your warm-up. Itching for a real tassel. You haven't properly fought in a couple of weeks. Even since during one of the patrols you got mixed up in an ambush. You slid down your dragon and injured your shoulder. It was nothing major but the boys were mother hens so you were not allowed to do anything.
"Do you ever fight with him?", Violet gestured to Garrick once more. Your eyes moved over where both Xaden and he threw punches at one another across the room. Shirts were already discarded. But then most of the time these boys trained shirtless. Too much body heat they said. "Shouldn't you only have your eyes set on Xaden? He's a jealous type", you asked her teasingly. Leaning forward to stretch your back. You couldn't see her face but she no doubt was red like a tomato. Violet couldn't hide her emotions for shit. That was another thing Xaden should teach her.
"I thought Xaden was the scary one but...", she breathed. Her yapping was starting to get on your nerves but then Xaden chose you for a reason. The rest of the group would have already broken the girl or she would be crying in the corner. "Don't say it out loud Garrick's ego might explode", you chuckled, reaching to put your hair up into a messy bun. "But do you?", Violet urged. You could understand her fascination this group was quite a sight for sore eyes. "I fought with all of them. Imogen, Bodhi, Xaden, Garrick", you said casually, eyes locking on the person you hoped would finally look your way.
"And you walk off the mat?", you could feel her eyes on you but you were already shrugging your shirt off, leaving only a tight black sports bra on, "Well, I'm standing here, aren't I?", you winked her way as you stepped closer to the mats.
"Looks very fun but I'm borrowing Garrick", you said casually, motioning with your hand for Xaden to step away. The guy simply brushed his hand through his messy hair as he smirked. "I ain't fighting with you", Garrick said coldly, turning his attention back on Xaden as if you weren't standing right in front of him. You could hear oo's sounding all around the room. Even Xaden snickered. "I ain't got all day Riorson, let's...", Garrick grumbled but you struck first, fist colliding with his hand and making him drop his dagger.
"You little...", Garrick bit back as he turned towards you, his big shoulders flexing as he quickly threw a punch of his own. One that you quickly dogged. Elbowing him in his stomach as you turned. It almost looked like a dance as you both swirled around the fight mat. Eyes blazing. You managed to throw him off balance slightly hoping to deliver a final blow with your leg. Unfortunately, it was Garrick we were talking to. He was the best for a reason. His hand quickly wrapped around your ankle as he tugged, your back met the floor as an airy huff slipped past your lips.
"He will kill her", Violet nearly shouted, her knuckles pale as she gripped the water bottle. "Relax, enjoy the spectacle," Imogen mussed. And she wasn't wrong. Everyone had stopped to watch. "He will...", Violet was about to argue more but her eyes caught the smiles painting both of your lips. You had quickly wrapped your legs around Garrick's torso, arm logged in his throat as you managed to turn you both around. Chest heaving for air.
"Want to tap out?", you mussed, leaning closer to him, locking eyes with the man beneath you. Garrick had a proud smirk on his face. You watched him slowly lifting his hand off the mat, fully prepared to walk away from this. But that same hand quickly wrapped around your neck, throwing you off balance as he once again pinned you right beneath him, "Nice try baby", he breathed right by your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.
"Press harder, I like it", you purred back, making him rare back as you stared at you, "You will be the death of me", he released his grip around you but his warning finger was still pointing at you. "Go fuck it out", Bodhi shouted across the room, making some people laugh. Garrick shot him a death glare. "Be careful, you might be laying beneath him next", you teased back, making Bodhi bite back a laugh as Garrick shook his head.
"Am I off bed rest now?", you asked as you followed him across the gym. "No", he breathed simply, "You're still in pain, your left hand twitched multiple times. It hasn't healed yet", Garrick said plainly as he reached for his water but you quickly kicked it out of reach. Garrick stilled for a heartbeat. The rest of the group was used to you both nagging at each other so almost no one paid you any attention.
"Let me train", you said firmly, only to let out a yelp as Garrick yanked you closer, pushing you against the walk as his frame toward over yours. "I said no", he hissed back. But you knew what this was. You had gone missing that night. They looked for you for two days straight. Well... Garrick did. Against all orders. No sleep. No food. His clothes were damp as he flew over and over. Followed by your dragon. You reached up to cup his face and Garrick instantly closed his eyes.
"I promise you that I'm well", you said softly, "nothing hurts, it's slightly sore, that's all", you tried to reason with this big broody man. "And your fingers", he reached for your palm, you knew what he was looking for, so you quickly moved each of your fingers around. Bending and flexing them. Garrick let out a sigh. "Fine", he breathed. "I can train with Bodhi...", "Like hell is anyone else touching you", Garrick hissed back, making you roll your eyes.
Stepping on your tippy toes you wrapped your arms around his neck, Garrick rose to his full height, making your feet dangle as you held up. His hands instantly reached down to cup your bum as you wrapped your legs around him. "You're lucky that I love you", he muttered as he carried you back to his preferred corner. You gave him your best angel smile that he only shook his head at. "I love you too, thank you for trusting me", you kissed the side of his neck softly, before your eyes darted back to the room. "If you feel..", Garrick started but you cut him off quickly, "Even the tiniest sense of pain I will tell you and we will stop". He nodded at your words, frown disappearing. Violet stood there with her big eyes still on you two. You quickly saluted her. "They're like...", she breathed out, making Imogen let out a chuckle, "Dating, fucking, loving - all of it", the female mused, "Just don't stare too much Garrick doesn't like it". Imogen tapped Violet's shoulder making her turn for the mat that exclusively belonged to Garrick. She knew without having to ask that your roll of training Xaden's girl was now her responsibility.
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
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pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
summary: cassandra baratheon dreams of prince aemond. the same cannot be said for prince aemond himself.
warnings: explicit language. smut. simp!aemond eating out his girl because the feast apparently sucked. slight breeding kink. voyeurism. cass gets her poor lil heart broken for the plot.
notes: i texted @chainsawsangel with the following:
"me when I break cassandra baratheon’s poor lil heart by having her come across aemond eating out his handmaid. #feminism".
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
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Lady Cassandra Baratheon stumbles across them next, though by an honest mistake as well.
(It hurts her heart a bit too much to considerate it anything other than that)
Foolish, foolish, foolish girl.
She had always been a prideful child, too high-spirited and headstrong for her own good. Her own lady mother warned her of that. But on her eight-and-ten nameday, her lord father brought up the prospect of a betrothal between her and Prince Aemond Targaryen.
Cassandra liked that very much- the idea of becoming his princess. Each night before sleep, she’d mumble his name into her pillow, a tiny prayer to any listening god that they would make him hers.
Please, please, please…
Prince Aemond…Aemond Targaryen, she whispered, a smile curling on her lips. One day he’ll be my husband, and I his lady wife.
Three months later, House Baratheon arrived at King’s Landing to celebrate the nameday of the Princess Rhaenyra, the realm’s heir.
Cassandra had brushed out her long dark hair until it shone in the evening sunlight and chosen her finest red silks. She had been looking forward to this day for weeks since learning of her possible marriage to Prince Aemond. Prince Aemond, her future betrothed. She giggled at the thought. Just thinking of him stirred butterflies within her tummy, a faint fluttering feeling inside. She was so in love with him.
He was so tall and handsome and strong, with sharp, stern features and hair like moonlight. Everything a prince ought to be.
Prince Aemond, my future husband.
Prince Aemond spared her not a single glance during the banquet, much to her embarrassment. Cassandra had made sure to look her best, all in the hopes of catching his attention. Several Lannister lords complimented her well throughout the night. But her prince remained at the royal family’s long table, seated in his chair with no desire to move. Or ask for my hand in a dance, she thought with a pout.
“Perhaps he does not know of the betrothal?” Her sister, Ellyn, offered. “There could be a chance that he was never told.”
Cassandra was not appeased. “No, the queen would’ve told him; it is in her good natural…perhaps he does not care to dance,” she sniffed in disapproval. She would prefer a husband that would twirl her around the room, the way a prince does with his princess. She picked up her fork, quietly chewing on the roasted meat as she spotted her Prince Aemond then slipping out of the room. Her eyebrow raised, but she said nothing more, too disappointed and sadden to push the matter further.  
“Go talk to him after this,” her mother, Lady Elenda, murmured into her ear, rubbing her shoulder. “Dragons love a stormy sky as much as they do a clear and bright-blue one.”
Cassandra does what her mother told her, walking down the dimmed Keep’s hallway, running a hand across the stoned wall as she searches for Prince Aemond’s bedchamber. If the gods heard my prayers, then I shall soon share it… But as she nears one of the little libraries, she overhears a soft moan, feminine and breathless.
And another…and another.
A hiccup this time.
A whimper for the fourth.
It causes her cheeks to flush pink as she stands for a moment outside the room, hearing more moans and whimpers and hiccups fill the air. Servants, perhaps? She considers that for a slight second before the girl inside moans out a name that makes her breath hitch in her throat and her stomach begin to tauten.
“Aemond…”
No, she thinks, pressing a hand against her breast, feeling her poor heart painfully quickening within her chest. No. No. No. Cassandra shakes her head, not willing to believe such. No. No. No, it cannot be. But…
“A-Aemond…”
Breathing deeply, she leans in, peering into the room as her gaze locks onto a girl perched atop the dark, mahogany desk. Her head is flung back as she trembles and moans, tangling her hand in the silver hair of her Prince Aemond, who is nestled between her thighs. Oh…but Cassandra knows what he is doing. The girl’s chest rises and falls, heavy breasts tugged out from her plain servant dress, her other hand pinching both swollen nipples.
“Ah…! Mmmm, oh sweet gods, Aemond….”  
Cassandra feels ready to faint. Tears swell in her dark eyes as she watches Aemond shake his head and smush his handsome face deeper between the girl’s quivering thighs, strong hands holding her legs apart. “Keep them apart…good girl,” she hears him mumble. “That damned feast outside did nothing to quell my hunger, such a fucking waste of my time.”
The girl bites her lip, her shoulders trembling.
“I want to live here, in between your thighs,” and Aemond lifts his face up from her soaking cunt, kissing the inside of both her thighs. Once, twice, four times, so soft and tender and loving. He brings two fingers to trace along her folds up to her clit, chuckling when the girl shivers and gasps. “My pretty little handmaid- my precious girl.”
“My prince…”
Handmaid? Cassandra scoffs at that, several fat tears already streaking down her cheeks. Her pretty dark eyes are probably smudged and red and absolutely ugly.
A handmaid…she’s lost to a fucking lowborn handmaid, a girl nothing more than the dirt beneath her dainty sandaled feet.
She’d laugh if she wasn’t so fucking heartbroken.
Cassandra keeps her eyes on her Aemond as he rises to his feet, pulling the handmaid’s face up to his for a passionate kiss. She sucks in a breath, hearing the muffled moans and wet noises and the prince’s low groans, and the dirty, sinful words that he mutters against her puffy lips.
“I’m not your prince, my love. How many times must I need to remind you?”
The handmaid shakes her head, shying away before his fingers grip her chin, tugging her face back to his. “All the babes I’ve seeded into your belly, and yet you still think of me as nothing more than your prince….” Aemond chuckles, tracing her bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. Cassandra can see his other hand fall to his pants and hears his belt unbuckling. “Rest assured, I’ll give you a few more months, but then my baby will be in your womb again.”
“But we already have three,” the handmaid whines, leaning back on her palms as she eyes the prince’s hardened cock when his pants puddle down to his ankles. But there is a smile on her lips, and her pretty features are twisted in glowing happiness and excitement. She reaches forward, wrapping a hand around the head of his dick, smirking when he hisses. “Let the twins reach their third nameday, my love, before we consider our next one.”
Aemond hums. “We’ll see.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Cassandra Baratheon leaves soon after that, face tucked within her hands as she curses the gods above for not listening to her prayers.
“Why? Why? Why?” she asks, again and again. “But why would they?” she soon mumbles, blinking the new tears back. “They were foolish wishes. I was too fucking foolish.”
She hears laughter and singing, mocking her misery, and when she flies past the royal nursery, she fails to notice the good Queen Alicent cuddling a brown-haired babe to her chest.
And at her feet sat two pretty twin children playing with their little wooden dragon figurines.
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tag list: @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan
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eydi-andrius · 10 months
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Clear Lilac Eyes (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
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summary: Aemond had bowed and prayed, something he had never done before no matter how hard his life had been.
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cw/tw: fluff, a bit of angst and hurt, aemond is a good husband, a dad and a king, childbirth, blood, implied war, patriarchy, threats, mentions of violence, threats and tags are not exhausted. Let me know if I miss anything
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a/n: Wrote this as an alternate ending for Don't Get Sad, Get Even but I thought it was too positive so I wrote it as a standalone.
Also, I posted this as a celebration as my blog turned THREE (3) today! YAY! 🎉🥳 Mannnnn, I used to be a lurker on this app then I started craving for my whatifs then wrote them. To celebrate, I will post for all the characters I have written so far and it includes this one. And maybe I have something in store for the others. 👀 A much awaited comeback hehehehehe if you have any request, you may send me an ask! 🥰 I may write them. 👀 Anyway, without further ado, ENJOY!
Likes and reblogs are welcome!
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There was an air of uneasiness that chokes out the life of those who breathe it in. The flicker of fire from the torches and the quiet of the hallways made an eerie atmosphere in the Red Keep. 
The shadows, the footfalls and the swish of clothings intensifies the feeling of distress in every mortal present at the birth of the King's child. 
This was an important event for the realm as this child may become the first heir to this new era of dragons. 
All the dragon-blood and silver-haired were almost wiped during the dance of dragons which happened for only a year.
Except for one. 
With his wit and strategy, Aemond Targaryen was able to win the war and was crowned king.
He was vicious and no one could deny him of his throne. Once the swords were down and the white flags were raised, all heads bowed to him.
However, right now, the King's head was bowed to only one, the Mother. The Goddess of Birth. 
While the realm was weary for his heir, he was scared to lose the love of his life.  
She had always expressed her fear of giving birth. When they were young, she had said to him that if she had a choice, she would rather not give birth. During that time, he thought it was silly. No one can run from their purpose. Especially her, whose sole purpose was to continue her family's lineage. She was a noble and a girl. There was no way for her to continue life without giving birth. 
Another blood curdling scream broke from her inside the room. It was loud. Terrifyingly loud. His gut twisted in fear. He had promised her not to enter the chambers while she gives birth but something was egging him on to force his way inside and to stay by her side. 
The room was filled with the familiar sweet metallic scent of blood. He had grown accustomed to it on the battlefield and never once the sight repulsed him. However, the white sheets and the white clothes worn by the maester and midwives were all covered in blood. Her blood. There was too much blood around her. The sickening feeling swirling inside of him tore new fear as he rushed forward and watched her delicate face, pale and deathly. Her lips dry and her hands cold to the tips. 
"My Lady wife, look at me, my dear. I beg of you " He watched her closely as her eyes fluttered softly at the sound of his voice. She looked at him and tried her best to give a smile but the look of it made him regret forcing her to go through the pain of giving birth. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him before it closed with a deep sigh. He squeezed her cold hands with worry - he prayed that the Mother will show his wife mercy, as she did to all the mothers who had gone through similar pain.
A tiny scream of life caught his attention. He looked behind him and there it was, his child. He never saw that she had finally given birth and was blinded with worry as he rushed in. His small bundle of joy was wrapped in the familiar green and gold linen his mother used for him when he was born. His pride and joy finally came and his heart was filled with unfamiliar warmth. He had never felt like this before.
Without removing his hand that held his wife, he asked the maester to help him place his little dragon on his free arm. The silver protruding hairs on his head had proven he was his child. He looks so small, so full of life as it cries and he shushes him. He had never felt more at ease as he was surrounded with his family. The family he chooses and who chooses him. His love for them runs deeply and he could never express how grateful he was for them.
"It is a girl." The sound of the maester's voice brought him back to where he was sitting and he looked at him. The maester's face did not hide his disappointment but he will forgive him for now.
A girl? 
A smile broke through him and he apologized inside his head to his daughter as he called her wrong. With a gesture of love, he placed his nose on top of hers and his heart was full as he heard her stop crying and coo at him.
He was overfilled with happiness. It feels like nothing could go wrong. 
However, his joy was short-lived when he felt his wife's hand loosen its grip to his. He had now realized her palm was colder, almost like ice. His head whipped in her direction and he saw the familiar feeling of impending death. 
No. Please. Not her either.
The wrong feeling in his gut came back again and he ordered the maester to help his wife. They rushed forward and he stepped back as he cradled the child, who was now peacefully sleeping on his arm. She must have been tired as she forced her way out to this world. She was so innocent and pure that she did not realize the terror that was eating away at his father's core.
He had watched them closely as they tried their best to bring his lady wife back to life. She looks so small, and fragile. He was afraid that they would break her as they moved back and forth to revive her.
The wet nurse of his child had asked and begged him to go out but he refused to do so and did not leave the room until the maester had told him that his wife was safe from harm. No one could tell when she would wake up but he was relieved that she could recover now.
At last, he had entrusted his child to her caretaker and asked the others to leave them be. Him alone with his wife. He waited for the sound of the door closing, before he broke down. With shaking limbs and eyes blurry with tears, he cried and kissed her hand.
He apologized for what he had put her through. He apologized for what she had to witness. 
He apologized for exposing her to violence. 
He apologized and apologized until there wasn't anything he could say to her. 
If the life of his wife would be the retribution for his sins then he would never forgive himself. 
That night, on his knees, he prayed and prayed for her to get better until there were no words he could utter to the Mother.
💚
Three days had passed and she was still asleep. He had smiled at her sleeping form as he recalled his interaction he had with his daughter. She was fussy and loud, just like her mother. He knew she would grow up with her mother's tenacity and boldness. 
Ignoring her pale face and thin body, he bit the inside of his cheek and continued his story. This was worse than war. Sitting beside her and watching as she fights for her life. Waiting and not being able to help her. He hoped that his stories would make her feel strong. 
He never liked the idea of her missing the growth of their child. He knew her better and this will make her sad. She had expressed that she had always wished for her mother to see her grow when she was young but she died too early for her to even remember her face, which people had claimed that they looked quite a lot like each others'.
He could never deny that there is no moment that he never missed her. Every inch and corner of Red Keep reminds him of her. Half of his life was him being with her. He wanted each and every waking moment of his was to be with her.
Swallowing his selfishness and pride, again, he prayed for her to get well and wake up soon. He bargained to all of the Gods that he will do anything and pay for it in his power to make it come true. 
💚
The council room was obnoxiously loud. He watched them quietly like a hunter, staring down its prey.
If he had the choice, he would be with his daughter and wife. But alas, he had to create a strong foundation for this new nation for his lovely daughter. He had to muster all the patience he had to stay still and listen to them. 
After the discussion about the trade and economy, suddenly, all the old men present looked at him warily. Even without them uttering a word, he knew what they would tell him. 
A searing hot anger rises through him but he feels calm. Calm enough to not hesitate to stab and kill with ease, just like what he did during the war. Or maybe he could ask Vhagar to bite them off in half or burn them alive. 
"Congratulations on having a girl, your grace. How was she?" He forgot that man's name but he believed the one who first opened his mouth was a Baratheon. 
"My girl was doing well." He replied curt and short. 
He saw how some of the men gulped in nervousness at the sound of his voice. He intended for them to feel the venom and challenge them to continue so he can cut their tongue. They looked nervous and fear was all over their features. Only Larys and Cregan, looked somewhat calm and remained quiet. 
"We're happy to h-hear that." The Baratheon continued with eyes wandering around his allies, like a helpless sheep waiting to be slaughtered. Aemond moved back and leaned on his chair, he wanted to see them all on a better view. He lay his head to his hand as he stared them down.
The silence was loud as everyone stayed seated and waited for each other. No one dares to. They were afraid. Aemond, the King, was ruthless. They knew bloodshed would be inevitable if they opened their mouths to speak about the dying Queen and the King having no heir after she gave birth to a daughter. 
Each one prefers their head intact, except for one. Or maybe the wise old folk of the North had better places to be and so he started the conversation with a tired sigh. 
"I thought you have something to say about the Queen, boy." He looked at the young Baratheon who was seated across him with emotionless eyes. 
The Baratheon stared at Cregan and the air shifted. The old wolf calling his name had given him confidence to open his mouth and talk about the real reason why this council meeting was held in the first place.
"Your grace, as much as we all pray for the Queen to get better. Please understand that we talk about this with the clearest intention in mind. After what happened to the Queen and the uncertainty of her health, we believed that it would be better to take another wife…..for the sake of our budding kingdom. In that way, we could secure an heir." He spoke with an air of superiority. As if he truly knew what he was talking about. 
Aemond stared at the man. He doesn't know how long it was but he just looked at him. The silence was uncomfortable and some of the gentlemen in front of him looked nervous as they waited for him to speak. 
"Y-your grace?" After some time, the Baratheon spoke again. 
He breathed in and finally, with an intense stare at the fool in front of him, he spoke with a neutral chilling tone.
"Did you know how the war started in the first place, boy?" He tipped his head and waited for an answer. 
Not knowing what to reply, the Baratheon boy blinked and looked around for help. But when no one could give him an answer he replied, confused. 
"Your grace?" 
"When my beloved lady wife was almost dying from childbirth, I suddenly remembered how and why we were all here. Why thousands of lives were lost. Why did dragons almost die and were wiped out?" He said with a menacing smirk. 
"You see, it started on this very council. Who were greedy for power to have the dragon blood on their lineage. To have their blood on the throne. And a foolish king who wore his heart on his sleeves. Those greedy old men pretended to truly care for him by using the memory of his wife and in the end feasted on his heart, voraciously. "He was way too lenient for his own good and once he realized he was being used, it was too late to change anything." My mother once told me. 
And I — I always saw my father as someone who swims along the current because he trusts way too easily, not knowing that there were sharp rocks waiting for him at the end. Even if I knew he wouldn't give me the love of a father as he should, I respect him for being the king. I believed he did his best to be a good one and a fair father to us. It doesn't mean it was enough though." 
Aemond stared from afar as he recalled how he envied his sister. How she got all the love they deserved to have too. It was never their fault to be treated that way and so he blamed all of it on her. But after the war and during the time his wife had suffered the similar fate of the former Queen, he realized how lonely his father might have felt. He realized how his sister might have suffered from being a girl. It was a strong slap on his face as he sat in the middle of this council and watched how these men didn't care about what he had to endure and how the life of his wife was the only reason why he was keeping sane. They will never understand, never. 
"Your grace, w-we cannot understand-" 
"Of course you wouldn't. None of you would." He cut him off before he could continue to rebuke him. 
"If the Queen dies right after this meeting, those who had agreed to have me married for another one would be beheaded for treason. If she did not survive even though her body has been doing well for days, I will treat her death as intentional from all of you. Speak again of her that way, head will roll, and blood will soak the iron throne. The only reason why you do not have a mad King, who craves death, was because of her." 
He stood up and did not care with the way the men yelled in unison of their protest against what he said. The only ones who stayed seated were Larys and Cregan, who both shook their heads. He did not care if they agreed with him. His wife will not die and he will protect her even if it means he has to be a Mad King. 
💚
He stayed seated beside her, just like what he has been doing these days. 
He chooses to be with her at night. He cannot stand to sleep in their room without her. It feels empty and cold. 
The barren room, even though filled with gold and riches, feels like another room in a gloomy castle. 
Each night, he stayed with her. Talk to her until he falls asleep on her side. He will either hold her hand or weave his hand through her hair, to soothe her. Sometimes, he even sings to her in High Valyrian, hoping that she will hear him and finally open her eyes. She always tells him she loves his voice when he speaks his native tongue. 
He waited and waited but it seems like today was like any other night. She needed a whole day of sleep to recuperate. He slowly closed his eyes after he kissed her goodnight. And prayed again that tomorrow, is the day she will smile at him again. 
A caress…
He cannot help but smile at the soft feathery caress on his face. It reminds him so much of how she wakes him up in the morning. What a beautiful dream..
A dream…
He frowned when he realized it was just a dream. She was still asleep and sick. And with his brows knit together, he relinquished the soft touch of fingers on his face. It feels familiar and welcoming. 
Just a bit more, he wanted to feel that she's with him. 
He was slowly going back to sleep, after what happened today, he seemed tired than usual, and it did not take long as the sleep tugged him back again when a tap jolted him awake. 
Even though the war ended a long time ago, his senses were still heightened and he was glad he wasn't wearing his sword or so he probably would have killed whoever forcefully woke him up. 
A smile….
He stared, mouth agape, when he saw you giving him a tired smile. He blinked and then, he panicked as he rushed forward at you, careful not to hurt you with his weight.
"My love.." He said with so much worry in his voice. He was feeling the tears threatening to come out of his eyes as he gazed at her pale face and dry lips. He doesn't even know how he will touch her. A moment of hesitation, his hands stopped midair as he panics that he might break her. What if he hurt her unintentionally and she fell asleep again?
He watched her as she tried to move her mouth but failed. She swallowed and tried again. This time he went to where the water and cup was placed and he helped her up to drink. She was thirsty and her mouth is probably dry from being asleep for a long time. Aemond calm yourself! She needed you more than now.
Once done, he carefully assisted her to lean on the headboard and she sighed with relief. 
He was just looking at her. And she was looking back at him. It took a while, the staring, until his face contorted with relief and then, he cried. He was shaking as he held her hand. She felt her fragile hands weave through his hair as she shushed him. He knew she was smiling. Glad to be back on his arms. 
He never felt so relieved and so thankful. 
All his life the people, his loved ones and even the gods did not like him. 
No matter how much he tried his best. No matter how much he was better he will never be chosen for he was only a second son. He was there as a safety but never the one.
But you choose him. And never did your love wavered. 
He never felt so hopeless when you were in pain and bedridden. 
He never felt so useless despite doing his best to be the strongest for his family. 
It was the first time he felt so inadequate and weak. That he gave all of his strength to kneel and pray for you whenever he could. He begged and promised that he would do anything in his power just so he could have you back. 
And now, crying in your middle like a child, as you held him as tight as he did, he prayed for gratefulness. 
💚
A week after you woke up, you are still not strong enough to walk outside. 
You relinquished the sun on your window and watched as Aemond carried and sways your daughter. 
You have a feeling that the reason why he was able to be in your room, as much as he could, was because he threatened the nobles every time they tried to stop him. You tried to talk to him once, compromising that he doesn't have to be with you, almost the whole day, but he shrugged and rolled his eyes, stating that he would rather be with his wife than be surrounded by men. 
Aemond can be stubborn but he never runs from his obligations so this was truly new for you. 
You giggled as you watched your lord husband's eyes widen from surprise. He was teasing your daughter by placing his finger in her small palm, when she closed and squeezed him tight, never letting go. His eyes softened when she cooed at him. 
He looks so different from when they call him the one-eyed prince for being vicious and fearsome. You were truly loved by the gods for witnessing this interaction and being one of the centers of his affection. 
"I will make her my heir." He said with a plain voice, as if he was asking you how you were. 
"My love?" You frowned, confused. You have witnessed Rhaenyra being crowned heir and how the war started from there. What is going on?
"I will change the law to make the eldest an heir. No matter what gender they may be, they will be given the same education and treatment, fit as the next ruler. If the nobles disagree, not that I care about them, I will also add that a female heir and noble will always have a noble child. Compared to a prince, a boy, the one she would carry will have noble blood in their veins. I will use my life, my reign to establish this. My daughter will be heir and no man, no noble, will be able to take that from her." The initial worry and confusion you felt from earlier vanished, as you watched him share his plan with the softest eyes. The setting sun at the window, creating a soft silhouette of him carrying his daughter. He loves her more than the throne. Something you have never witnessed before. 
It warms your heart and you never thought you would fall deeper in love with him this much in this lifetime. You will forever be happy that he chose you. 
"My love…..you always prove to me why I choose you every single waking moment of my life." Without thinking you opened your mouth and spoke the words that always lingered in your end. 
Surprised, he stared at you and then, he smiled in awe. You don't even need him to speak for you to know that his eyes and soften feature was him telling you that he loves you. 
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Note
Hi, love your works so much! Can't wait for more updates 🥰🥰 I was wondering maybe you'd like the idea where book!Aemond and Velarion!(Strong?)Reader are in an arranged marriage. But Reader just knows what to say and how to act so that Aemond is wrapped around her finger (kinda thought of Margaery and Joffrey situation, she was such a talented schemer, worthy of winning the Throne 😭). I don't really know about the setting, like if it's before, during or after the Dance... just thought it'd be interesting to see this kind of plot with our beloved Prince 🤴🏼🐉
If you don't like it, just ignore me 🙈
Dragon Sickness (18+)
Pairing: bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader
Warnings: No usage of (Y/N), Greens win AU, bookcanon Greens, the obvious Targaryen incest, mentions of major character deaths (we're entering spoiler grounds, but not really), blood, gore etc.
Word Count: 3.5K+
Author's Note: I fell in love with this idea the moment I saw it! I ended up altering the plot line for this one-shot a little bit - the reader will definitely grow into the Margaery architype, but today you shall see her as she was when she just learned how to make ends meet with her newfound life at Court.
I don't know if I should turn this into yet another series, but if you guys enjoyed this, let me know
Also, thank you so, so much for your kind words ♡ i'm hugging you to the moon and back!
PART 2 IS OUT NOW ♡♡♡
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Who could ever blame you for your indiscreet acts? Alliances change when the world you know suddenly turns upside down.
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She remembered how weak she was. How scared she had been.
How her eyes widened into two brown specs of uncertainty, how her mouth fell agape, as she mulled over Alicent’s words.
‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’
The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her. Much less her demanding and scornful father.
Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.
Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.
His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.
With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead. Driftmark wouldn’t matter, her legacy wouldn’t matter. Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.
Never mind that he’d never partaken in a fight; save for the one that killed her stepfather, Daemon, and sent her poor mother in a downward spiral. Aemond had chosen his adversaries wisely, and managed to go through the whole war without as much of a scratch upon his silver armour.
‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out.
‘You will do exactly as demanded.’
‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’
A monstrous beast. That is what Aemond was.
And that is what he shall remain. No matter how many gifts he brought to her. No matter how many hours of their days and days in their weeks and weeks in their months they spent promenading those ghastly gardens.
‘You will if you know your best interests. Your own head may hold no value to you, but a single swing of my son’s sword would be enough to bring forth the ruin of House Blackwood.’
At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.
The slight breeze of the cathedral mended her flesh from the heat of summer. And no one dared to approach or talk to her. The quietness was a welcomed deed.
During the first night of their betrothal, her glossy eyes scanned Aemond’s face. His hands wantonly gripped at his thighs and a slight twitch of his mouth, accompanied by an elongated hum escaped his lips.
There was no other discernable expression. And when he led her to the chambers of her early girlhood, he merely bowed and kissed her hand.
She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.
Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months. Her wedding date was approaching swiftly, and she found herself faced with the abhorrent truth. She had no allies. No more friends at Court. The girl had shut herself in her tiny room, losing her mind with the pain and grief that flooded her at night: the faces of her mother, her brothers, her father. The sound of their screams and their endless pleas for help.
Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.
The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in.
‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’
The echo of his mellow voice deterred her to let out a blood-curdling scream, that would have rivalled even the one of the late Queen Rhaenyra, after Aegon the Usurper ceased her at Dragonstone, and reeled his dragon to eat her whole.
‘Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out of my room!’
Her sobs pierced into the man’s heart, but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn. He clenched his fists ruefully by his side, and spat out an apology in a low and dangerous tone.
‘As you wish.’
And how dearly he loved those words:
‘As you wish.’
'As you desire.’
Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.
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“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.
Her face contorted into the mirror, and a faint sigh beleft her lips. Carefully she turned around, reflecting his stance with a subtle arch to her shapely brow.
“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding ceremony.”
“An old wives' tale. And one that applies only on the day itself.”
“Perhaps we should encourage tradition more. Make it so we don’t cross paths at all til then.”
Just as fast as it came, the feral look dissolved over his tired face. Aemond heaved out a heavy exhale and merely settled to growl at her maids.
“Leave us. Now.”
A discontented look painted over her fair features. His niece opened her mouth in protest, to try and stop the fleeing girls from truly making their escape.
“I must remind my Prince that the engagement assembly will be held in less than an hour. I believe I should like them to stay.”
The gathered women exchanged lost and protruding glances, until the former King Regent spoke again.
“They will leave us at once.”
“They’ll do no such a thing. They must make haste to get me ready. We wouldn’t want to upset your mother.”
“I’m more than capable of lacing up a loose bodice.”
The tight expression on her face deserted her features with the leave of his smug retort. She swallowed thickly in enraged abandon, and silently beseeched her ladies not to leave her all alone.
Still ravishing her with his bold stare, Aemond stepped another foot into the cosy confinements of her tidy prison. “If I’m to turn around now and find any of you standing before me, I’ll arrange that you’re all flogged and defiled beyond the utter of salvation.”
Brisk footsteps swallowed the room, echoing wildly through the narrow dark hallways. The former Velaryon shook her head in disarray, and graced her soon-to-be-husband with a tight smile and a nod.
“Congratulations.” She uttered humorously, “I should enjoy looking like a fool tonight much more than being proper by your side.”
As if drowned below a trace, Aemond took another step in the direction of the frowning Princess. His face remained impenetrable, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice ran meek, unsure and hoarse.
“Turn around.” He commanded her gently, whilst grabbing a deep green garment from the cluttery made on her bed. Despite her lack of desire to abide by his request, the woman turned her back to him and muttered slowly, though much softer than intended.
“I don’t like that one. It’ll make the skirts look out of place.”
“Which one do you want, then?” His whisper had made her draw in a sharp gasp; the warmth of his breath fell soothingly over the nape of her neck, caressing her delicate skin in a way she hadn’t known was possible.
“The red one with black lacings.”
His hand came to spin her back around, and their noses nearly touched together. A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.
“Your petticoat won’t be those colours.”
A conceited scowl graced her face. She reached her hand behind him and skillfully snatched one of a different design. “Fine. I want to wear this one, then.”
The obnoxious blue and silver danced across her paling skin. And if Aemond weren’t so dazed by their proximity and lack of air, he might have laughed at her feeble attempts of vexing him.
“Those are Velaryon hues.”
“Perfect. I shall honour my house well.”
“You are not a Velaryon to grace them with such a feat.”
“No, you are absolutely right. Your brother did name me a Targaryen.”
Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.
“Yet I can’t wear black and red either.” A prompted look disarmed the Prince, “It is all very confusing.”
His lone orb descended to her puffing bosom, but Aemond soon directed himself upon a more elusive image. His fingers twitched with the need to grab a hold of her – to pull away those last pieces of cloth that shielded her away from view.
“You know full well why I can’t allow that.” He hummed in unmoving disapproval, “As much as I enjoy your voice and the raptures of your closeness, I must say this conversation bores me.”
“I should be able to wear what I want.” Came her prompt and swift reply, “But of course, Your Grace, forgive me. ‘Tis not for men to pounder on laces and brims.” Her palms took to rest upon his bulging chest, and the girl nearly removed them at once, as the thrumming of his heart enterlaced with her slim fingers. Still, she furrowed her brows in a most perplexed of mockeries, and insatiably drove on, “Indeed resilient men such as yourself occupy their time much better.”
The callouses of his hands fell heavily upon her cheeks.
“Fucking their ways through brothels, getting their pricks wet, and fantasising about wars.”
The harshness of his next tug nearly broke her brave facade – her eyes widened in mistrust, and a slight recoil braced over her straightened back. Her small fingers clasped over his shaking wrist, which held onto her face with a gentleness untoward; one completely mismatching with the predatory glimmer in his eye.
The man he was, and the man he was trying to be would surely never mend to one.
A Kinslayer. A monster. A divergent freak.
Nothing more, and nothing less.
His thumb played absent-mindedly at her lower lip, and the young Princess tried her damnest not to bite him. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?”
“You are as imprudent as you are beautiful. A family trait, I assume.”
“You have my gratitude for the flattering commentary. I’m very proud of my heritage.”
His lilac orb bore into her, and the man let out a reserved laugh, “Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.” The rough end of his hand gripped her own painfully, before she could make for a swing at his handsome face. “Lost in the seas, rotting at the bottom of an ocean, nestling inside Sunfyre’s belly.”
While her hands were clasped together, her mouth wasn’t sown shut. With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.
Though his nostrils flared up in disdain, the man graced her with a calculated smirk. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?” He mocked her with feigned interest.
“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”
“Oh, but I have every right to talk about your family. Given that I will be all yours shortly.” Once more he forced her to turn around, and kneeled over to her spasming form, to begin dressing her up; in nought else, of course, but the mundane silks of his choosing.
"Doesn't the prospect thrill you? To become my lady-wife, to finally bear a true Targaryen inside your royal womb?"
So hopeless and defeated she felt, that the youth jerked herself relentlessly, while repeating him the same plethora of words. “You cannot force me to be your whore. You cannot force me to wear this. I will not bear your Hightower green.”
Aemond could feel his patience running thin – and when her foot came into contact with his setting knee, the man let out a ferocious growl, and promptly trapped the girl in his arms, with the aid of a nearby wall.
“So you want to be difficult? You don’t want to wear this? Hmm? Well, who am I not to abide my Lady’s burning wishes?”
The sharpness of his dagger came into quick contact with the milky skin of her thighs. And she might have almost screamed, if Aemond didn’t immediately pull himself away. His hard chest grazed hers for but a moment, as the Prince cast his attention to her moving shadow.
“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”
She huffed out a dispensing pant and pursed her lips into a tight line.
She remained rigid and poised, until a spark of amusement swirled into her eyes.
The first crack was that of a lax smile. The next, a tremor to her lips. The calm before the storm approached, until all rattled down with a mirthed laugh cascading from her reddened lips.
“Do you mean to frighten me with this promise?” She asked through the arch of an uncertain brow, “As if every man in this cursed Keep won’t get to watch me whore myself out to you anyway, when our wedding night will come?”
His face suddenly hardened at the notion of their reality – as if he didn’t give much thought to the bedding ceremony. To his Lady being watched by a thousand other eyes but his.
Aemond suddenly darkened, and his fist came into contact with a near spot on the wall, so awfully close to her frightened, paling face.
She watched with wide eyes how his stare contorted from one of realisation to one of fury. He stiffly peeled his body away from hers, and strained himself to leave her be. The jealous and possessive knots that churned painfully inside his stomach burned his skin upon the surface, and constricted the air he brashly took in.
He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him. Behind his eye danced a look of seldom shame – he gnawed harshly at his bottom lip, and pondered, for a while, on apologising to his niece; for his lack of princely conduct, for his show of impropriety – for his inability to keep himself at bay.
Still his thoughts failed to merge to words, and so the man ran his eye one final time over her defensive pose, and merely left her standing there.
As if turned into a statue, the girl barely registered the lethargic closing of the door, the hurried and heavy footsteps that travelled further and further away from her quaint and cluttered space, and the animated curse that slipped past her uncle's throat.
Did he just dare to leave her there, with her petticoat half up her legs, in nought else but a flimsy nightdress?
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At first she thought that his avoidance was a blessing in disguise.
For after clashing wits with Aemond, and after his swift hurried departure, the man had barely graced her with another word.
His hand held onto hers for the whole duration of the procession. He wordlessly forced her to dance two dances, and led her to her Quarters as soon as she mentioned that she was tired.
But his palms didn’t linger on the shape of her narrow waist – his lips barely grazed her knuckles, and Aemond turned with lest a word to add after their fake sympathies were exchanged.
Had he gotten bored of her? Realised what a terrible match they made, and begged his mother on his hands and knees to break off their ill engagement?
For the first time in a while, a new notion of fear engulfed her.
The Greens couldn’t kill her. Of that, she was almost certain. It wouldn't be a wise move, and it would anger the North beyond the power of salvation. The war had had its say on every army that fought into it, yet the Crownlands were especially weak.
But if Aemond were to sever their solidary alliance, then her future would be most uncertain.
Otto Hightower would make her join with an old and withered Lord, no doubt – one with more than enough sons to further on his pesky line. One who couldn’t even get it up to her, who’d never procreate and mend their blood, who’d make sure Rhaenyra’s line would end with her.
Or perhaps she’d be sent to join the Faith – become a Septa or a Silent Sister, among the infamous Maris Baratheons of the Realm. Yet another girl who wouldn’t keep her tongue when asked.
And history might remember them as ‘the women who couldn’t be tamed’, but their lives would be thrown to ruin. Their existence would remain a sham.
No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.
… And if she had to whore herself to him to do it, she would obediently assume her role.
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“I beg your pardon?” Aegon asked through another gulp of bitter wine, “Gods be good – I believe that now I’ve heard it all.”
Aemond paced about his brother’s room, with his hands clasped behind his back, and his face set into a deep grimace. He hummed in admission to his brother’s words, and glanced his way with the instance of a hooded eye.
“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”
His brother smiled and raised his brows in nothing else but blinding wonder. A small shake of his head indicated his perplexion, and a sharp inhale his drawn decision.
“Mother insisted upon it. You know that well.” The man steadied himself in his chair as he spoke, whilst letting out a small grunt at the contact that the wood made upon his burnt remnants of skin. “I don’t see any reason to annul it. Especially now, an eve before.”
Another sip of the stinging liquor interrupted his smooth and ready trail of thought. The Targaryen brushed off Aemond’s concerns, and gleefully bided his teasing.
“It’ll do the two of you good – you’ll get to see she’s as pure as a bastard girl can be; and she’ll have no deniability that any of her future heirs are yours.” He pointed his weary digit in the direction of his stiffened form and swallowed down a hefty laugh. “Not to mention that Lord Redwyne and Tarly already placed bets on the state of her maidenhead. Would be a shame to disappoint them both, don't you think?"
“What mother thinks is of no consequence. And the amusement of the Realm matters not to me. There will be no bedding ceremony.”
“Nonsense, Aemond. It is our duty to upkeep the Realm – and to entertain its inhabitants if need be.”
When his reckless teasing was met with glacial silence, Aegon sighed as he briskly leaned forward. He watched his sibling with an indiscernible expression across his scorched veneer, and yawned greatly at his indisposed behaviour.
“Of course, we’re here to talk it out. But after so much time spent in your company, I fail to see the necessity for such a thing.” A sly smirk danced across his puffy lips, “Are you concerned that she won’t bleed? Or that you’ll be too cunt-struck by her to last enough to make a statement?”
Aemond’s fists descended upon the polished wood of Aegon’d desk. He thrashed his brother with a defiant glare, and hissed through his gritted teeth, and tight-set jaw.
“There will be no bedding ceremony for my niece and I. Tell that to every Lord that wishes to glance upon my wife – if they do so much as to cast their hands on her, they’ll be fucking their own wives with a wooden cock.”
Amusement laced with grave concern – the finality of Aemond's words ought to have vexed him, irk the King in his sibling's weighty insolence. Instead Aegon nodded, pushing back the feeling of dread that settled deep within his bones. His head jerked towards his closed oak door, signalling to his brother that his visit had been overstated. “What sort of brother would I be, to not grant you with this simple whim?”
The younger Targaryen mirrored his stance, and turned abruptly on his heel after a low grunt of gratitude.
His hand reached for the golden handle, but Aegon's words deterred him to a halt.
“But be careful with that one, Aemond. She’s brash and wholly unpredictable. Make sure the blood that stains your sheets come morning isn’t somehow your very own.”
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Perma Tag List: @welcometothelioncage @kravitzwhore ♡
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fragileheartbeats · 27 days
Text
— SUNFYRE ִ ۫ 𖥔 𓈒
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𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐲𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧.
𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝑰𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒉, 𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝑫𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.
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Sunfyre is a dragon characterized by his brilliant gold scales that glisten like beaten gold in the sunlight, along with pale pink wing membranes. His flames also share the same golden hue. Notably, Archmaester Gyldayn declares Sunfyre the most beautiful dragon ever witnessed in the known world.
Sunfyre is a young and fearless dragon. He is a formidable fighter. Despite enduring severe injuries in every battle—injuries he could never fully recover from—Sunfyre managed to triumph over every opponent he encountered. This includes Meleys, described as a splendid dragon. He also killed Moondancer, who left him very injured, and he further killed and devoured Grey Ghost. Sunfyre's last victim was Rhaenyra Targaryen, who attempted to usurp Aegon's crown.
Despite suffering severe injuries and a damaged wing, Sunfyre miraculously managed to fly back to Dragonstone. The reason for this return is considered to be that he sensed Aegon needed him. Sunfyre had a strong connection to his rider, Aegon II; their bond was one of the best, and Sunfyre never let him down. Aegon deeply cared about Sunfyre; he made his sigil a golden three-headed dragon breathing golden flames on black to honor him. This sigil also became the main symbol of the Greens. When Sunfyre died, Aegon wept.
— VHAGAR ִ ۫ 𖥔 𓈒
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬.
𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑰𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒉, 𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚.
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Vhagar was a she-dragon of House Targaryen. She was ridden by Queen Visenya Targaryen during Aegon's Conquest, alongside Aegon the Conqueror's Balerion and their sister Rhaenys's Meraxes. Other known riders of Vhagar are Prince Baelon Targaryen, Lady Laena Velaryon and Prince Aemond Targaryen.
By the time of the Dance of the Dragons, Vhagar was the hardened survivor of a hundred battles, had grown almost as large as Balerion, and was the oldest and largest of the dragons in Westeros. Her roar was so powerful that it could shake the very foundations of Storm's End. No living dragon could match her for size or ferocity.
Aemond would continue to fly Vhagar in battle during the civil war between King Aegon II and Queen Rhaenyra. During the battle at Rook's Rest, Vhagar and Aemond, and King Aegon and Sunfyre, ambushed the dragon Meleys and her rider Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Meleys was an old and large dragon, and might have stood a chance against Vhagar alone, but died from the combined assault. Vhagar was the only dragon who left the battle reasonably unharmed.
— CARAXES ִ ۫ 𖥔 𓈒
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐖𝐲𝐫𝐦.
𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅, 𝒄𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.
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Aemon's nephew, Prince Daemon Targaryen, had claimed Caraxes as his mount. Daemon took his paramour Mysaria with him on Caraxes when he retreated from King's Landing for Dragonstone.
Daemon used Caraxes during the War for the Stepstones. During those years, Daemon divided his time between the Stepstones and Dragonstone where he would often fly with his niece, Princess Rhaenyra, and her dragon Syrax. After Daemon remarried to Lady Laena Velaryon, the newly wed toured the Free Cities of Essos with their dragons Caraxes and Vhagar. Huge crowds came to see both dragons everywhere they went.
At the start of the Dance of the Dragons, Daemon landed Caraxes atop Kingspyre Tower during the assault on Harrenhal.
Atop Caraxes later in the civil war, Daemon challenged Aemond Targaryen and Vhagar at Harrenhal. All four were killed in the ensuing Battle Above the Gods Eye. At the end of the fight, Vhagar locked with Caraxes and they fell into the Gods Eye. While in freefall, even as Vhagar's claws opened up Caraxes's belly and used her teeth to tear off one of his wing-arms, Caraxes locked his teeth onto the larger dragon's throat and tore it out. Vhagar did not survive the force of the fall. Somehow, Caraxes managed to live long enough to pull himself out of the water and onto the shore, even though his entrails were falling out and one of his arms had been torn clean off. The dragon soon died in front of the walls of Harrenhal.
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olympushit · 1 year
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ARES DOESN'T DESERVE THE HATE HE GETS. 10 REASONS WHY:
Apart from being the god of war, he was also the god of generalship, manliness and civil order, which means that he was the god responsible for the correct function of every ancient city in order of laws and politics.
As the god of manliness, he was considered to be the patron of a fine man that every man looked up to. He was a fighter, not only as a merit from being the god of war, but he always fought for his beliefs, just like at the Trojan War when he complained to Zeus about Athena's unfair action. Also, he was the best father to his children and always supported them and their mothers, just like Cycnus fighting with Heracles, or when Aeropos' mother died during childbirth and he made it possible for the baby to drink milk from his dead mother's body.
He was the only greek god that never raped a woman. All his sexual encounters were consensual and he always seemed to respect his lovers, because he kept his private life low key and none of them suffered or were subjected to tortures, unlike Zeus' or Poseidon's lovers did.
He was the god of dance. Legend has it that before he was taught how to fight, Priapos, his tutor, refused to teach him unless young Ares knew how to dance. Afterall, war is considered to be the ultimate dance a man could perform in ancient times. Also, he appeared to dance for his daughter's Armonia wedding with joy, leaving behind the animosity for her husband Cadmus. Finally, in the feasts of the Gods, it was said that Apollo played the lyre, while the Harites, Artemis, Hermes and Ares danced with great joy.
He was a forgiving god. Despite his enraged and bloodthirsty behavior, Ares knew how to forgive someone and appreciated what they were doing to gain his trust. After Cadmus slaughtered the Dragon, he was put 8 years under servitude to indulge Ares. Finally, Ares not only forgave Cadmus for his crime, but he also blessed his wedding with his own daughter Armonia. Cadmus, in order to gratify the god, built the city of Thebes and made Ares its patron god.
He wasn't a coward. Many greek myths refer to Ares' lack of courage to face danger. This is far from true. At the Trojan War, when he found out about Ascalaphus' death, he disobeyed Zeus' order with the risk of his immortal life in order to go to the battle amd avenge his son's death. He was later stopped by Zeus' thunderbolts. Also, when the Aloadai were about to take Olympus, he was the first god to interfere in battle in order to save Olympus. Afterall, one of his epithets was "Olympus' Protector".
He was sentimental. At the Trojan War he was seen greaving for his children's loss and always wanted to inervene for their safety. Also, he understood the rejection of his parents towards him and he was a lonely god that lacked love. But he found the love he was seeking to Aphrodite, and did not only lust her, but he loved her deeply. Together they had 8 children, and both of them were jealous about each other's affairs, because of Adonis and Eos. They also had an open relationship, because he never refrained Aphrodite from her nature, which was love and sex. Afterall love is not meant to be given to only one person.
He was the protector of women. When Hallirothios attempted to rape his daughter Alcippe, he flashed in the scene and brutally killed the rapist. From that moment on, a temple in Athens was built for Ares "Gynaikothoinas", which means the one feasted/worshipped by women.
He knew the feeling of loss. A war has two sides, the winners and the defeated. A war isn't always to be won, and everyone must learn what it is to lose. He lost many wars, but he also won many. That's why he is among the Olympians.
He was a god of justice. That is because he was referred to be "Themis' Ally", which means that he was a helper to the goddess of justice. One of his least famous daughters, Adrestia, was the goddess of balance, justice and retaliation. Also, "Areios Pagos" or aka "The hill of Ares" was named after him because he was the first man ever to be tried for substatial homicide, for slaughtering Alcippe' rapist.
DON'T TREAT MY BOY LIKE THAT! HE IS JUST ADORABLE!
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gxthicwxrm · 1 year
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Hi! Saw you were looking for hotd requests.
How about arranged marriage au with Daemon x fem!reader. They have 1 or more kids but Daemon doesn't seem to like her. After an attack on her and the kids (she's a trained assassin/warrior), he realizes how much she does for them. Maybe she goes unconscious for a few days and Daemon has to look after the kids.
Ignore this if you don't want to do it! But thanks and have a good day!
Hello! I am so sorry for the late reply!! I did a few changes, I hope you don't mind. I plan to use this prompt for Aemomd and Aegon as well. However I hope you enjoy!!
Fire Like A Targaryen
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Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Wife!reader
Warning: blood, assault, mentions of rape and murder, angst
Word Count: 1,907
Masterlist - Part Two
---
You drums you fingers against your swollen belly, feeling little feet meeting the flesh beneath your hands. "Hello, my little love." You hum to the unborn baby that dances in your stomach while the baby's father disappears somewhere, surely his doting niece following closely behind. 
You have been married to Daemon long enough to know the feelings he has for his niece, even if he doesn't realize himself. His neglect of husbandry duties always increased as we spent time in King's Landing, nearing the Princess of Dragonstone. However, you didn't blame your husband's inability to love you, on the Princess or even her lover. Sometimes people just don't love each other.
Giving up long ago for his affection, you decided to make the best of your time with simple pleasures: reading in the garden, learning to cook with the maidens, painting with the richest of colors. Quickly, you adapted to the riches of the Targaryen's royalty which dulled the ache you felt for her husband. 
The night of the wedding, the pair never consummated the marriage, it left you feeling like a pawn in a game. He stumbled in drunk, tripping over his feet before dragging himself up the bed, practically crawling towards you. Unable to deny your growing love for this mess of a man, you reached your hand out and guided him towards yourself. 
Slowly, he looked up at you before clasping your cheeks in his hands, pressing his cold lips against your warm ones. Hungrily, his hands fly to your sides and pull you against his bare chest. Moaning into your kiss, both sets of hands begin exploring each other. For once, you felt at home, like this was how the two of you were supposed to be, together. However, your bliss died when his lips whispered one that was far from your own.
"Oh, Rhaenyra!" He mumbles into the flesh of your neck, leaving little bruises training down your chest as he moves towards your breast. His words crash around in your head as you lay beneath Daemon who finishes and falls asleep beside you, wordlessly.
Despite the pain of that night, you gained motherhood. Daemon was happy to be a father, scared but happy. He never told you, but you could tell when he'd ghost his hand over your bump or give you an extra piece of bread with dinner. He even held your hand during the birth of your daughter, Alysannne.  He may not love you, but he loves his child. Although, a small part of you wished this child would make him love you. You were naive to think Daemon would ever love you.
But, years have passed since your daughter was born. Alys is five, running around her father as he brushes Caraxes in the Dragonpit. 
"Mommy!" Her tiny voice echoes on the stone walls once she sees you walking towards herself and her father. Looking up, Daemon's eyes meet yours, offering a small smile before turning back to the huffing Caraxes. 
"Hello, my little one. What are you doing out here? Look at you, you are all dirty!" You pick at your daughter's ripped gown, covered in soot. 
"We were playing with Caraxes! Daddy said he'd let me fly with him!!" The little girl runs between her parents and the Blood Wyrm, kissing the dragon's cheek as she pets him. 
"Well, she is her father's daughter." Daemon chuckles, putting his hand on the small of your back as Alys dances around in front of you, twirling her ruined skirt. Affection from him was no longer rare but quick. His thumb caresses the exposed skin of your back, soothing the pain of carrying a child. His unused hand finds itself cupping your belly.
"How has he been treating you, today?" Daemon's smooth voice steals your attention from the girl before you. Looking down at his hands, you rest yours beside his but he moves, so his fingers are right over yours.
"He's been good. Hasn't been kicking me a ridiculous amount which is a new change of pace." Your attempt at a joke brings a smile to your husband's face who kneels down before you and kisses your clothed belly, much to your surprise.
"Be good for your mother. Cherish her, my little Dragon." He whispers, but you were still able to here his words. Standing back up, he cups your face.
"I'm going to take Alys flying before she makes Caraxes eat me. He listens to her more and more these days." With a peck on your cheek, he's running towards his daughter and his dragon. 
"Don't forget Alysanne needs to bathe before dinner with your brother. She may be a dragon but she will not smell like one." You call them, laughing at your own words. 
"Yes ma'am." Daemon smiles at you before telling Caraxes to fly,just streaks of red melding into the blue sky above. 
Waiting for your family, you sit in your chambers, rubbing oils on your stretched belly while the water for Alysanne is being gathered by your maids.
Grabbing a book from Daemon's bedside table, you absently flip through the pages; glimpses of words and stories fly by along with the pages.
A creak of the door alerts you, bring you to your feet as you cover your stomach with the slits of your gown.
"Mommy! We flew so high!" Alysanne pushed the door open enough to slide between the wood, running to her mother's side, a severant boy coming in behind her with two buckets of hot water. Alysanne leans into your side as you take in the dirt covering her face.
"Oh, my little girl, what did they do to you? Did they roast you?" You giggle, tickling at her sides. The servant moved slowly beside you as he filled the white tub.
"No, I roasted them, mwah ha ha." She laughs, stomping and pretending to breathe fire as she runs around you in circles.
"Okay my dragon rider. It's time to bathe. Come on." She taps her daughter's shoulders, moving her towards the steaming bath. Looking towards the lingering servant, Y/N felt bad dismissing him but was cautious why he was staying so long.
"Thank you, sir. Your kindness won't be forgotten." You turn towards your child and still feeling the man in your room, pull the curtain around the tub closed, canceling your still clothed daughter. She was eerie of this man in their room, unsure what to think of him.
Slowly, he straightens to look you in the eye, a cold shiver runs through your body as you see the glint of a dagger in his hand. 
"No! Guards! Daemon!" You shout as the man lunges, knife pointed towards your belly. The man kept coming at you, backing you in the furthest corner away from your daughter, who peeked from the curtain. Moving to run around him, his arm grabbed you by the stomach and shoved you down. Flying backward, your head hits the ground, a loud crack echoing through your mind as you look around for a weapon. The man is stalking you while you try to move toward the bed across you. You knew Daemon kept a dagger under the left-hand side of the mattress. If you could just get to it, you could save your children's lives.
The sound of glass breaking stops you and your attacker, both looking toward the direction of the crash. The tub. 
A fear like no other took over you as the man started towards your daughter's hiding spot. Reaching for his legs, you try to pull him down, screaming but to no avail as he kicks you. One landing in your swollen belly, making black dots cloud your vision. Wetness trickles down the side of your face, but you keep dragging yourself behind this man, desperate to stop him from hurting your child. 
Using the table nearest, you pull yourself up and grab Daemon's letter opener. This man would not leave this room alive; you'd make sure of it even if you died trying. The man throws open the curtain but pauses. Creeping behind him, you see Alysanne isn't behind the curtain anymore. 
"Where is she?" The man asked himself. He turns, locking eyes with you before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you to your knees. "I said," Where is she? You dumb bitch!" He goes to smack you but stops as you shove the letter opener into his hand. Letting you go, you drop back down before dragging yourself to your feet.
"You fucking cunt! I was going to let it be quick, but now you will watch me rape your little girl and slit her throat before I do the same to you." He spits, pulling the blade from his hand and coming at you. His words once would've made you cower and hide, but now light you up like a flame. A fire burned in you to keep going and fighting despite the pain radiating over your body.
"You won't lay a finger on her. Over my dead body." You knew this would be a fight you'd lose. You have no weapons, training, or husband to protect you. It was up to you to protect these children, and you would do it even if it killed you. The Man grabs at you again, but you slap, scratch, and claw at his face this time. His hands find their way around your throat while yours dig into his eyes, a gut-wrenching scream comes from the man as he yanks away from you, but you don't stop. Lunging at him, you push his body against the tub, hitting his head before you wail on his chest, tears flowing down your face as the man beneath you go limp.
A scream of frustration leaves your throat raw as the adrenaline leaves your body. 
"Alysanne? It's okay to come out now, darling. It's okay." Your thoughts cleared. Where is your daughter? Stumbling off the man, you pull yourself up and turn, trying to find your daughter, when suddenly she slides from under the bed, rushing to your side. 
"M-mommy! I thought, I thought he was-" 
"Shh, it's okay now. Everything is going to be okay." You hold her to your chest, trying to soothe your nerves. The door swings open to your relief, and Daemon rushes in, sword drawn with the Gold Cloaks rushing in behind him.
"What happened? Are you okay? Alysanne? The baby?" Daemon's questions shoot at you, each before the words can find you. Staring up at him, blood smeared across your face, bruises forming, and tears filling your eyes. Daemon has never seen you like this and never plans to again.
"Mommy killed the bad guy. He tried to hurt us, but she saved us!" Your daughter summarizes to her father, who turns to his wife, shocked, before pulling her and her daughter into his arms, kissing each other on their foreheads. He always thought she lacked the fire a Targaryen has. But at every turn, she has proved him wrong. Not only did she give him a dragon and another coming, but she became one in the process.
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libraryofgage · 7 months
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Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Part Three
Part One | Part Two
I got side-lined by the Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins fic for a hot minute (that big boi is at, like, 73k; he hefty), but here's the next part!
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P
In the port city of Socotra, past the first big plaza and down a few side streets, is a small two-story shop with a sign that reads "C. C. Elixirs and Solutions." The shop is owned by a very nice young witch named Chrissy Cunningham who, currently, is doing her absolute best to not laugh in Eddie's face as he spins his tale of accidentally entering into courtship with a merman.
"Anyway," Eddie says, pacing in front of the counter with his hands splayed and his hair a mess, "I was wondering if you'd have anything that could help me."
Chrissy covers her mouth, swallowing down the bursts of laughter threatening to bubble up her throat. After a moment, she asks, "With what, exactly?"
Eddie turns to look at her, gesturing to the shop as a whole. "C’mon, Chrissy, you gotta have something here for me, right? Like, I don't know, a fucking manual or whatever."
"Of course I don't have a...," Chrissy trails off, frowning slightly as she looks at the storeroom door behind her. She's getting a very familiar feeling. It settles at the top of her spine like a shiver that's just waiting and waiting to happen but never does. Usually, this means something.
"Give me a second," she says, barely hearing Eddie's agreement before she heads into the back.
Her storeroom is a chaotic mess that only makes sense to Chrissy. Precarious stacks of books are randomly scattered across the floor, some of them holding plants or knickknacks on top. A few tables are filled with potion ingredients, magical artifacts that still need cataloging, half-filled notebooks, and dozens of pens. A few bookcases line the walls, and Chrissy wanders over to one of them.
She scans the spines, passing over books about fae marriage customs, common selkie family traditions, and in-depth essays analyzing Phoenix mating dances. Finally, her gaze lands on a thin, unassuming book. Its cover is made of sea-foam green leather, with waves etched into the spine instead of words. When Chrissy pulls it off the shelf, the front cover is blank. She doesn't remember getting this book, but this can happen in magic shops. Sometimes items just appear where they know they'll be needed.
Chrissy flips the book open, landing on the front page and grinning at the dedication that reads, "To all the hapless fools in love with a sea dragon's descendant. Here's to hoping you don't royally fuck it up."
Yeah, that's perfect.
She heads back to the front of the shop, immediately noticing that Eddie has placed trinkets and rocks on the counter. She recognizes a few of her protection charms (made of genuine silver, she'd like to add), some quartz of varying colors, and a ring set with a prismatic shard. Chrissy stares at the items before looking up at Eddie with a raised eyebrow.
"Stevie would love all of these," Eddie says, shrugging with absolutely no remorse or shame as he drops a coin purse onto the counter.
Chrissy sighs and digs a few coins out, ensuring they're all gold and all real by biting them before nodding. "You know, land-based magical items don't actually work on merfolk," she says, pushing the purse back to Eddie as she places the book on the counter as well. "So those protection charms and that prismatic ring won't do anything for him."
"Yeah, but they're pretty. He'll like them," Eddie insists. He then notices the book, and his eyes light up hopefully. "Did you find something?"
"Yep, seems to be exactly what you need," she says, sliding it closer to him and watching as he opens it to a random page.
"A common practice among merfolk is to collect trinkets during their pod's travels. Some trinkets won't be personally interesting to the merperson, but can be later used as courting gifts if they're relevant to the intended mate's interests or likes," Eddie reads, tilting his head slightly with a genuine interest that Chrissy usually only sees when he discusses new songs he's learned during his travels.
"Consider that one on the house. But I expect to meet this merman once you've finished your honeymoon phase," Chrissy says, pulling out a small velvet bag and placing the other items inside.
She gives it to Eddie, smiling once more when he nods, digs into his pockets, and drops another small pouch onto the counter. "Almost forgot. Here's some of that 500 year old ginseng you mentioned before," he says.
Chrissy blinks, staring at the pouch. Before she can say anything (like, for example, demanding to know how Eddie got his hands on so much of such a rare ingredient that only the most qualified of practitioners can even dream about seeing), Eddie has gathered his things and practically run out of the shop with a hurried goodbye thrown over his shoulder.
Excerpt from "The Lovelorn Fool's Guide to Merfolk Courtship"
The most important thing to know about courting merfolk is the levels of courtship, of which there are three. In order, they are:
Gift-giving: merfolk collect various trinkets throughout their life, including items they personally do not find interesting. Upon finding a potential mate, they will go through their collection and gift items they think the potential mate will like. To learn more about trinket collection, refer to Part II.
Harmonizing: unsurprisingly, singing is important to merfolk. In addition to being an enjoyable pastime, singing is another mode of communication. The ability to harmonize with a potential mate is vital, as it proves the two are well-matched. To learn more about song types, refer to Part III.
Pod Introduction: the final stage of merfolk courtship, pod introduction is the most important. Pods are sacred, and introducing a potential mate to the pod is an incredible show of trust and commitment. To learn more about pods and their structure, refer to Part IV.
Of these levels, gift-giving often takes the longest. Some merfolk give hundreds of gifts before moving to harmonizing, and others give one. Be patient and try to return each gift you receive.
While these are the levels of courtship, the actual establishment of mateship (consider this the merfolk equivalent of marriage, only it's far more permanent), involves the gifting of scales.
You can find more on this in Part V.
----
Steve stares longingly at the small window in Eddie's cabin, tracking the clouds and lingering on birds that soar by. He knows he can't be on the deck when they've docked, but scales, he's bored.
Are his guppies bored, too? Do they still play games, or are they too worried about Steve to sweep through the waters? Has Robin lost a few scales from exhaustion and stress? How quickly after hugging him is she going to kill him for being away for so long?
With a sigh, Steve drags his eyes away from the window and looks at his tail. Kelp is still wrapped around the wound, but he knows it's almost healed. He can flick his fins without hurting, and the wound has mostly scabbed over, fresh scales beginning to creep over the cut. Maybe a few more nights, and Steve will be ready to jump back into the ocean and find his pod and guppies again.
But that would mean leaving Eddie behind, and...Steve really doesn't want to do that. Because Eddie is the closest Steve has ever actually come to finding a potential mate.
He starts to sink into the water to submerge his head beneath the surface so his disgruntled and stressed air bubbles can rise from his gills. Before he can fully slide under the surface, though, Steve hears the familiar sound of Eddie's excited, hurried footsteps.
Steve perks up, gripping the edge of the tub as Eddie slams into the door, cursing at the pain as he opens it and stumbles inside. He looks at Steve immediately, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide and a grin tugging at his lips to reveal dimples. He's carrying a small pouch in one hand and a book with a sea-foam green cover in the other.
"Stevie!" he says, kicking the door closed and walking over to the tub, "I got you stuff."
With that, Eddie crouches in front of the tub and holds the pouch out to Steve. He doesn't seem to notice how Steve's gills flutter, air pushing out in an excited, flustered pattern that would have made Robin tease him. Eddie doesn't know that, though, so Steve tries to ignore his gills and takes the pouch.
He opens it carefully, his gaze immediately caught on a ring set with a rainbow-colored stone. Steve's eyes widen, his mind swirling around the pretty color and how well it matches his tail and how it looks to be the perfect size and how it would still glitter even when Steve is deeper than the sun can reach.
He pulls the ring out, turning it over a few times before sliding it onto his left ring finger. He was right; it fits perfectly. It has a strange but ultimately harmless magic attached to it. Steve grins brightly, a small, barely noticeable hum bubbling from his throat as he looks back into the bag.
He pulls out each rock, studies them intently, and approves of their color and shimmer. With a nod, Steve places them carefully in the tub, clustering them on the left side of his tail, the side further from the door, for protection.
Finally, Steve pulls out a few of the protection charms. They're small and made of a material Steve immediately recognizes as something that tarnishes in water. He really likes them, though, and it would be a shame to not use them for something.
"Eddie," he says, looking up to see Eddie staring at him, his excited smile turning dopey.
"Yeah, sweetheart?" he asks, leaning forward and resting his arms on the tub.
Steve leans forward, taking a lock of Eddie's hair and studying it carefully. After a few seconds, he decides it's good enough. "Turn around?" he asks, his gills fluttering again when Eddie does so without question. After taking a second to calm himself, Steve asks, "Can I do your hair?"
Eddie hums, leaning his neck on the rim of the tub, giving Steve full access to his hair, the ends of which are dipping into the water. "Of course, Stevie. Whatcha wanna do?" he asks.
"It's a surprise," Steve tells him, moving some until he's partially sitting on his tail so he can properly face Eddie's hair. He places the pouch on the edge of the tub, letting it precariously balance, before running his fingers through Eddie's hair.
He's done this enough times for Max to know how to fix tangles without pulling. As he works, Steve relaxes, falling into a familiar rhythm, and starts to hum softly. It's a lullaby, one that he doesn't get to sing the guppies to sleep with anymore, but they tolerate it when he's caring for wounds or helping them scrub their tails or braiding their hair.
Steve divides Eddie's hair into sections and starts braiding. Every other inch, Steve takes one of the charms from the pouch and braids it into Eddie's hair. By the time he's done, the braid is decorated with silver charms, standing out nicely against Eddie's brown hair.
"Okay," he says, using a thin piece of kelp to tie off the braid, "It looks good."
Eddie hums, reaching back and carefully running his fingers over the braid. Steve watches, suppressing the urge to grab Eddie's hand. "Did you not like them?" Eddie asks, dropping his hand and turning around. The charms clink against each other, creating a quiet song that makes Steve's heart light and happy.
"I liked them," Steve says, pushing the pouch on the edge of the tub into Eddie's lap. "They tarnish in water, though. And their magic felt too strange. They look better on you."
"So, you gave me a gift?" Eddie asks, his smile hopeful and his eyes bright. Steve can't help returning the smile with a nod. In response, Eddie leans forward even further, like he's acting on impulse more than anything else, and presses his lips to Steve's cheek.
Steve's eyes widen, his gills burst, and his ear fins flare in response. To the untrained (human) eye, his reaction is similar to a cat puffing and bristling when faced with a threat. To the trained eye (Robin. And other merfolk, but mostly Robin), Steve's reaction is entirely common for especially flustered merfolk.
It's never happened to Steve before, and that just makes him feel more flustered. He doesn't want Eddie to see his flared fins, so he does the first thing he thinks of; Steve pushes forward and wraps his arms around Eddie's shoulders, hugging him tightly so he can't pull away. "Thanks," he mumbles, "for the gifts, I mean."
He hears Eddie laugh and feels Eddie's hands slide across his side and to his back to return the hug. "Of course, Stevie," Eddie replies, his breath warm against Steve's gills and sending a subtle shiver down Steve's spine. "I'm glad you like them."
Steve is gone. He can't imagine being away from Eddie. He can already see Eddie and the guppies meeting, and he can see Robin fucking with Eddie just to see how he reacts. Steve can see Eddie in the water with him, grinning as his hair floats around them. Steve can see Eddie and him lying together on a beach, warm on the sand and basking in the sun.
Most of all, Steve can imagine giving Eddie a necklace or bracelet of his scales. Maybe that should scare or worry him, but all Steve can feel is excited and warm, and he's more than happy to bask in that feeling for a while.
----
Tag List (the tag list is full! I wasn't able to fit everyone, so if you aren't on here, I'd suggest following #high seas steddie. I think you should still get updates on your dash if you do)
@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7
@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @haelreadsshit, @y4r3luv, @starman-jpg, @littlewildflowerkitten, @estrellami-1, @stevieschrodinger, @gaelicblue, @they-reap-what-we-sow
@5ammi90, @noodle-shenaniganery, @acrolius, @hallelujahimatheist, @rainbow-freckle, @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @79chevyimpala, @aliea82, @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona, @sani-86, @queenie-ofthe-void, @goosesister, @hello-fellow-nerds, @luthienstormblessed, @xtkxkrzrizir, @potato-of-the-lord, @geekymagicalpotato, @child-of-cthulhu, @aizawa-emma, @m-owo-n, @newtstabber, @cartercaptainofthemoon, @spectrum-spectre, @a-little-unsteddie
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velvetlilacsdaisies · 1 month
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Shit at Feelings iv
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Bodhi Durran x fem!reader
Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.
Word count: 6k 🫢
Warnings: swearing (ofc), drinking, angstttt, y/n lore, lmk if I missed anything, not proofread at the end lmaooo
A/n: the long awaited part 4!! Hope y’all aren’t disappointed, trying not to think so hardly on this part bc I scrapped and rewrote this so many times 😅
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You're unsure of when it started during the night, but as you sat at the booth with Violet, Rihannon, and Nadine; something stirred in your chest. You desperately tried to look interested in the conversation, trying to meet the eyes of Rihannon trying to focus on the way she animatedly told a story. Laugh when the women poked fun at Violet for something cheeky she’d bring up. Adding input to Nadine’s questions despite having to ask her to repeat herself without having your eyes dragging themselves to look at the other side of the bar.
Who was she?
She wore a dressed down pale blue healer uniform, her skin flawless free of relics and tattoos, glossy perfect red hair that cascaded down her back in waves. She radiated bubbliness from what you observed as she laughed at whatever Bodhi said or did a little dance when her friend sunk a billiard into a pocket. She always seemed to go right back to chatting with him. You couldn’t bear watching her cling to him, but you couldn’t drag your eyes away.
You were well aware you had no right to be sitting there, stomach churning with a bitterness of cold ire…but here you were doing just that.
Rihannon clicked her teeth, making you snap your attention back to the group. You didn’t even try to offer a coy look—this was the second time one of them caught you. You had tried the last two hours to hide your irritation, but it just kept beckoning to the surface. Slowly ticking away within you as if you were going to burst at the seams.
“Okay, what is going on between you two?” She laid her palms flat on the table.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You took a sip of your drink, acting as nonchalant as you could.
She gave you an incredulous look. “The fact you shied away from him all first year, then the first night of break whatever that was.” She waved her hand. “The other day during breakfast, when Dain came to grab him for the leadership meeting, and it was clear as day he was practically undressing you with his eyes when we first arrived.” she rattled off.
“It’s like I’m watching a romance novel unfold in real time.” Nadine said dramatically, a hand moving to her forehead feigning fainting.
You cringed, “it’s-it’s definitely not like that.”
“Not like what?” Quinn interrupted walking up to your own group. Bodhi and Imogen still had been at the table.
The mystery girl touching his built bicep. He had discarded his jacket an hour ago, his rebellion mark on display underneath his tight short sleeve t-shirt. “Ohhh,” she followed your gaze to Bodhi. “Immy told me all about this.” She said in delight to your dismay, taking a seat next to Nadine.
You brought your attention over to the curly haired blond girl. “Does everyone know about this ‘something’ except the two people this ‘something’ is about?” You snapped.
Everyone seemed to have an exciting interest in the nonexistent relationship between you and your childhood best friend.
Quinn merely raised her hands defensively, Rihannon and Nadine awkwardly sipping their drinks looking at the table interested in the wood grain.
“We’re all in the same wing, same section, Y/n it’s hard to ignore the hot and cold between the two of you.” Violet had a softened look in her eyes, being the most sympathetic toward you.
You flushed realizing your outburst, not meaning to aim it at your new found friends. The gnawing bitter feeling was just eating at you, and you couldn’t stop it from being all consuming.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, a scowl on your lips, staring into the clear fizzy liquid in your glass. Despite the tension you created, you looked at the bubbly girl across from you. “Quinn, who is that girl?”
She had a hesitant look on her face, her brown eyes swirled with trepidation. “Ariante, a third year healer.” She offered a short response, seeming to know more than she let on.
You only nodded, turning back to the other side of the bar watching the billiards tables. Ariante, the beautiful young woman, was lining up to shoot the shot, and shot Bodhi a wink before shooting. A small snarl left your lip unknowingly at the sight, leaving all the group to cast worried glances your way.
You grimaced at your behavior, not entirely sure why you had visibly been so riled up at the sight. “I’m gonna get some water.” You stood up, and left the group without another word.
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Ariante skimmed her dainty plain manicured hands over Bodhi’s biceps as she giggled over something he told the group he played with. Usually her advances didn’t bother him, last year he had given in to them as a distraction many times when Y/n avoided him like a disease. Tonight though, his chest hammered in annoyance—maybe not just with her in general, but everything tonight seemed to be so overstimulating.
The loud tavern, how he fought a flinch every time the que would knock against a billiard, the musty smell of alcohol and fried food permeating the space, and how fucking unbearably hot he was.
He knew it had nothing due to the summer weather, that the heat that festered deep within him was caused by something wholly different.
Usually he’d use churam to block Cuir out, but the effects of the few drinks he had made it harder to keep that mental shield up and his dragon’s emotions started to take over. Of course Cuir and Cleasaí chose tonight of all nights to fight.
He had spent a year being accustomed to this, but he worried about you.
You still had been clueless to everything, your dragon stubbornly kept you in the dark, which had frustrated both him and Cuir. You didn’t deserve any of that, and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt he felt when he thought about it. He watched how tense you were at the booth, the girl’s giggling at what seemed like your expense; a scowl on your pretty lips at the interaction.
Another wave of heat filled and irritation rippled through him, and he screwed his eyes shut trying to ground himself. He had ripped his jacket off an hour ago, but to no avail aided any relief to his skin. It seemed it only made the pretty third year healer cling to him more. And the only aid that was brought, was to the disdain that rose with the proximity of her.
“Damn it Henrick!” Quinn stomped her foot frustratedly, making him open his eyes again. “I thought I was playing with an amateur?”
Sawyer had a broad grin as he nabbed the gold coins on the corner of the parallel table across from the one him and Imogen played at. “Beginners luck?” He shrugged casually.
The curly haired blond furrowed her eyebrows at the redhead. “Mhm, sure. Beginner’s luck my ass.”
Imogen cackled at her friend. “You’re the one that suggests putting coins down.”
Quinn mimicked Imogen, before a playful glare settled on her features. “Shove it Cardulo, I’m gonna go wallow in pity now if you need me.” She handed the cue to Sawyer before flouncing off to the rest of the group they came with.
Bodhi’s brown eyes not paying any mind to the feisty third year rider as she joined the booth, he instead had been focused on you again. Watching how your tongue darted in between your soft looking lips licking them, the same scowl still lingering on your face.
He had longed to get a feeling of what your lips felt like since he was barely an adult. Doing anything at this point to have a taste of you, knowing he shouldn’t have felt that way. You had always been just barely out of his reach, but he would have risked anything to have that moment as selfish as it sounded.
You were his best friend.
It was more than the idea of blurring the lines of your friendship that stopped him in the past; you were never meant to be anyone else’s, but who was chosen for you. Your parents had made you a lady of the Aretian aristocracy. The intent to secure a cushy life to make sure you would never have to experience war and hardship like they had—even if it wasn’t a love match. You were forced to take the decision they made for you with poise and grace. Exposed to the corrupt society of the aristocracy that lurked behind the violence since a preteen, never supposed to know war and violence like he had. But by the time the peak of the rebellion happened, and Execution Day arrived—it had been too late for the first hand you had been dealt with. Another decision instead handed to you from a choice that hadn’t been yours to ever make.
It was self indulgent thought, but the moment he knew you safely crossed the parapet—there was a hope that ignited in Bodhi’s chest he hadn’t felt in a long while. Despite the blatant act of avoidance on your part, he quietly watched your every move the first year.
Made sure Imogen spent extra time training with you so you’d be ready for your next challenge, telling her what she needed to critique you on from sparring lessons. Insisting Garrick to convince you to eat more than what you usually did so you could bulk muscle to help ease through the gauntlet. Pleading with Xaden to rearrange squads in the flame section so he could keep a better eye on you. Every action in efforts to aid you from the help of your mutual found family was a coercion from him; so he would know you’d have a shot at surviving this hellscape.
For only a measly chance of you to finally acknowledge him.
It had only been a coincidence (or was it? Cleasaí was known to be petty) you had bonded with Cuir’s other half. The mated dragons hadn’t talked since the end of his first year. The first half of being bonded to the notorious green filled with tumultuous arguments that he didn’t know what started from. They had only been recently mated in the last decade from what Cuir told him.
Bodhi swore he did more supply runs for churam than weapons by the end of the year before they went no contact, and just coexisted in the Vale with one another.
He would have preferred that over feeling the wavering aggression through the bond at this very moment.
“Handsome boy,” Ariante cooed, snapping her fingers to get his attention from across the table. Realizing he had zoned out again staring at you, Ridoc clapped him on the back.
“Yeah handsome boy...” he purred mockingly. Bodhi shrugged his hand off quite hastily. He was not in the mood for the second year’s comedic relief…and the overly inebriated physical touch of the counterpart.
Imogen sensed his discomfort by how tense he had looked, his posture usually more lax, or a boyish grin that had been replaced with a grimace. “Gamlyn, go get us some water.” She barked, face set to a hard grimace.
Ridoc with wide eyes in the fear of the short woman, saluted the group before walking off to the bar.
Bodhi reminded himself to thank her later once he was in a better mood. Instead he twisted his face into something that barely showed interest, not like it mattered, the healer was two shits to the wind at this point. Just caring his eyes were on her. Smiling brightly once he turned back to her, even if it was a stoic look he had on.
“I need you to watch as you lose this round.” She giggled, grabbing the cue from her friend’s hand.
The tawny skinned man watched disinterestedly as she made a show of setting her shot up. She swayed her hips to the table, making sure to press her chest down into the polished wood edges so her low cut tank top showed her cleavage as she lined up her shot. She made eye contact with him, offering a seductive wink, before clumsily shooting and completely missing the pocket. If he wasn’t so aggravated, he could have laughed at the scene.
It was Imogen’s turn now, and he subconsciously let his attention wander back to the booth again, noting you were now absent from the table.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but his heart skipped a beat in panic. He scanned the tavern looking for a glimpse of where you could have gone. He could spot you out of a crowd anywhere—from the way you wore your hair to the way you carried yourself.
His brown eyes searched the makeshift dance floor in between tables, the line for the bathroom, the exits of the tavern. The sense of relief when he finally found you should have eased his heart, instead it pounded louder and louder as his vision tunneled. Bodhi’s stomach churned with a burning green feeling, watching you sit at an empty side of the bar with Ridoc, smiling at him as the pair of you talked.
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“So yeah, then Imogen told me to grab some water for them, and now I’m here doing that.” Ridoc rambled on about his night. Unbeknownst to him, you had spent the majority of the night meticulously eyeing the group from the booth. But you nodded along, idling swirling your finger along the lip of your cup, letting his word vomit become a white noise in your brain. “Imogen has a scary way of demanding things.”
A smirk had crept onto your face, replacing the frown you wore. Ridoc was always honest, but it was amusing to hear him drunkenly bare his soul at the bar over the silliest details. It had almost been enough to forget the prying animosity that filled your veins.
“Who are you telling? I have known her my whole life.” You reminded him rather distractedly.
Despite talking to him, your attention was still flicking towards the quieter side of the tavern—still invested in the man you’ve been stubbornly hiding your feelings from poorly and the pretty girl that clung to him. The game of billiards was dying down, only her friend and Imogen still playing one another.
Bodhi sat backwards in a chair off to the side, his chest pressed against the back, arms casually draped across the wooden top rail, and head hung low as he sipped from the bottle of ale he had been nursing. Ariante perched in a chair beside him, leaning over into his ear to talk. Her lips mere centimeters from him had your heart thumping so hard that you could hear it in your ears.
“Yeah, but you’re not like her or them in fact.” He shrugged.
That made you turn back to Ridoc, who didn’t realize you were only half heartedly invested in the conversation. Or if he did, he didn’t make it known.
“Like they’re all scary broody motherfuckers, and you're just you. Intimidating sure, but not all broody and aggressive.”
You let out a dry chuckle, “language please, they are my friends.”
He raised his full hands defensively, ignoring the fact he sloshed water all over him. “Sorry. You know what I mean though.”
You leaned your head to the side, a quizzical expression on your features. “Elaborate Gamlyn.”
You might have been aware of what he meant, just for the sake of your entertainment you didn’t mind hearing the inebriated man’s ramble of what he thought. It was the only thing that was keeping the pent up emotions beneath the surface.
“Well, you’re kind of lady-like?” He tested the word then nodding. “Yeah, lady like. Not that they don’t have manners—they have better manners than me, but you’re like a refined woman.” His eyes got big and arms were flailing as he animatedly spoke, water sloshing on him.
“Would you be surprised if I said I had been a lady?” You interrupted his spiel.
“No shit, like tea and biscuits, go for a promenade around the garden kind of lady?” He slurred in disbelief with an attempt of an accent.
The way he had said it made it hard to stifle your laugh. “Dowry to my name and all.” You mocked using a posh accent as well.
He made a strangled noise, as he puffed his cheeks out to prevent laughing. “Shit that was the worst accent I’ve ever heard.”
You tilted your back, laughing loudly as he snorted, unable to contain himself. “Thanks for your honesty, yours was just as awful.” You tried to compose yourself.
“I’m not the one that comes from the Aretian aristocracy though.” He said through a fit of giggles. You scoffed, shoving him slightly, giggling more when you had to grab his arm to keep him from stumbling over.
Once the laughter died down, Ridoc had started to talk your ear off again, but of course your focus went elsewhere. Your breath caught in your throat, the amusement on your face slipping.
Bodhi was shamelessly staring at you when you looked over this time. His eyes dark, and stone faced watching the side you resided on. He tilted his head back, draining the remainder of his drink. You couldn’t help to watch the expanse of his throat as he drank the rest of his drink, watching how his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he did so.
You gulped quietly, suddenly imagining how it would be to nip at the column of his thick neck. If he would squirm under your touch or make any soft noises if you kissed up his jaw…you were just torturing yourself at this point.
He the. swung his leg over his seat, muttering something to the pretty redhead, not waiting for a response as he made his way towards you.
Shit.
You panicked drifting back to the drunk man in front of you.
“So did you have—like—a betrothed before this?” Ridoc asked, rubbing the back of his neck, still oblivious you hadn’t been listening. “Is that why we’ve never seen you hook up with someone?!” He gasped as if he solved the biggest mystery, connecting non existent dots.
You could throttle him, trying not to watch the towering figure approach you.
“No, no, no!” You covered your face in your hands, cheeks flushing. “It never got that far, well there were a few arrangements that never went through.”
“Damn, your parents were slacking.” He scoffed jokingly.
“Ridoc,” you glared at him. Any amusement or relief from Ridoc now gone, hitting a nerve within you. The thought of your late parents always causing an ache in your chest and a knot in your stomach.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” Bodhi finished for you, coming up right behind him. He jumped, obviously startled by the new presence, and that it was Bodhi nonetheless. But he quickly recovered, turning to the taller man.
“You always jump right in at the most convenient times, handsome boy?” He questioned in a teasing tone. Handsome boy?
Bodhi glowered, stepping closer to your squad mate. “Call me that again—”
“Bo!” A high pitched shrill voice cut him off. It resembled nails on a chalkboard causing you to wince. Ariante appeared from behind Bodhi, a bright bubbly smile as she stumbled around him, grabbing his arm for support. “You didn’t wait for me.” She pouted playfully.
You had to fight the noise of disgust that wanted to escape your lips, but your facial expression gladly showed what you couldn’t verbally. The rational side of you knew you shouldn’t be reacting this way to a girl you’ve never met. You were past the point of rational though.
She then acknowledged you, her eyes a bright teal that sparkled sticking out her manicured hand. “I’m Ariante.”
You subtly glanced at your hands that were unkempt, nails nearly to the nubs with hangnails.
Gods, she really was everything you weren’t even down to the fingers.
You politely stuck your hand out, limply clasping hers. You hoped she wouldn’t feel your calloused fingers or notice how unladylike your hands were compared to hers as you introduced yourself.
“You know Bo?” She mused. Her hold still on him, despite her being perfectly stable. And the way his nickname came out of her mouth, you think you could regurgitate everything you’ve consumed today.
You offered a strained smile. “We grew up together actually.”
“How sweet!” She practically squealed. “I think it’s great how close knit all of you are!”
The tone deaf statement snipped the final straw of your patience and self control. No, you couldn’t let the feelings lay idly underneath any longer.
“I would say we all are,” you nodded. “I guess that’s what happens when all your parents are murdered in front of you.” You said it as if it was the most casual thing to leave your lips. The smile she wore faltered, and you could see Ridoc shove his hands in his pockets, whistling.
“Y/n…” Bodhi warned.
It could be treason speaking so freely of this, you hadn’t cared at the moment.
“What?” You said innocently, brushing off the warning look you know so well. She had started to sputter an apology, but you cut her off. “But how does such a sweet thing like you know Bodhi?” You asked, a smile growing sinisterly.
In your peripheral vision, you see Bodhi’s face pale.
“We’re acquainted.” He quickly answered, getting out of her grip as he reached over and grabbed the water out of Ridoc hands that were nearly empty from him constantly spilling. He gulped the water like a fish needing water, clearly uncomfortable.
“Very acquainted.” She fluttered her lashes towards him, tone suggestive. Brushing off your awkward interaction.
You made a noise of understanding. Everything you thought was confirmed by two words. Your thoughts lingering and spiraling. The idea of Bodhi intertwined with someone else was nauseating…even infuriating. Everything had drowned out by your heartbeat in your ears, Ridocs words were now inaudible, but assuming he was making a joke. Ariante shrilled giggles didn’t even affect you.
Why were you so mad? You had no right, you’ve been so awful to him the last couple of years—there was never a chance for you. Every interaction you two have had was just rekindling your friendship the past week not meaning anything more. Every poke and prod from your group of friends was something they misinterpreted between the two of you. You knew you shouldn’t have thought too hard on their words and jests, but deep down you only felt crushed of the hope there could have been.
Crack. You looked down at your glass that had been in your hand, the glass in between your knuckles nearly crushed.
The group flitted to you and the cup, even some of the surrounding patrons looked towards you warily.
“Are you alright?” Bodhi was the first to speak up.
“Just absolutely peachy.” You murmured, sliding the object towards the other side of the bar.
“Wow, all you riders are so strong.” Ariante laughed nervously. If this could have been any worse, you weren’t sure if you wanted to punch something or cry now.
“Excuse me,” fighting the lump in your throat. Standing up quickly walking towards the nearest exit without a word.
You walked outside, not quite being able to comprehend what just happened in the matter of seconds. Clenching and unclenching your fists, your chest heaving as everything felt as if it was closing in, pacing on the cobblestone outside the tavern. The smell of incoming rain permeating the humid air that blanketed over the quaint town. Usually a smell that eased your mind, was an overbearing semblance to the internal storm inside you.
“Y/n!” Bodhi called out your name, walking out the door you walked out of moments prior. The bass in his voice stoked the fire that formed in the pit of your stomach, ready to burn you from the inside out. Turning on your heel you faced the 6’3 man, brows already furrowed in glaring daggers towards him, chest still heaving erratically unable to control your breaths.
“You need to breathe.” He didn’t let your behavior deter him. His tone smooth and even, several feet away, not meeting your gaze like if he did he would combust into flames from your glare.
You scoffed, “shouldn’t you be inside with Ariante?” Her name dripped off your tongue with venom.
He opened and closed his full lips, setting his hands on his hips; absolutely dumbfounded. “Y/n…” he said through staggered breath. “I came here with you tonight.” He took a few steps towards you cautiously. “I came up to talk to you at the bar, trying to leave her with her friend.” His focus seemed to be on the wall behind you, and not your own eyes as he still walked towards you. “I followed you out here, leaving her in there.” His words slow, as he stepped right in front of you. “Does it look like I give a fuck about her?” He didn’t let you answer.
“Has everything this past year made it look like I give fuck about anyone else, but you?”
Despite the tug in your heart you felt at his words, pulling you out of your blind rage and jealousy for a split second—it was frustrating how he refused to look you in the eyes.
“You were letting her hang all over you tonight, how can I believe that?!” You held your chest with one arm, the other outstretched to the door.
He gave an aggravated shout, lunging and grabbing your arms. You stiffened at his touch, his hands were just as hot as you felt. He seemed to notice as well, flinching at the realization, but his hold stayed secure on you. He leaned down, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.
“If you watched my every move, you would have noticed I wasn’t interested in her. I was only watching you the whole night.” That Gods forsaken deadly calm tone sent a shiver down your spine despite the heat you felt. “Now lift your arms up.” He ordered, the sentence barely above a whisper.
His usual honeyed brown eyes finally locked with yours, dangerously darkened. A silent gasp leaving your mouth agape, unable to pull away from his dark orbs submitting to his quiet demand, your arms rising up slowly.
His rough calloused skin brushing your arms ignited a solely different fire within you as he slid the sweater off your frame. “Fuck, you’re burning up.” He muttered, throwing the sweater on the cobblestone leaving you in the corseted tank top you had on underneath. Lightning flashed in the skyline, thunder following a moment later, and rain started to pour from the clouds moments later. The droplets are warm from the summertime, but still cooler than both your skin, creating a steam that ghosts around the both of you.
“So are you,” you said breathlessly. “Do you have any idea why?” You two were so close your chests brushed together, every time one of you breathed. You anticipated what he would say next, but Bodhi kept quiet, tugging on his lip, seeming to be fighting a battle with himself. He turned away from you, rubbing a hand over his face, looking up at the rain stricken sky.
“You do know don’t you?” You rasped.
“I just want to preface I wanted to tell you—”
‘Don’t. You. Dare. Tawny. One.’ Cleasaí dangerously seethed through your head.
It had been silent on the other side of the bond all night, you tugged the invisible string to her countless times, but no answer. Now she wanted her presence known? Known to someone that couldn’t hear her nonetheless.
‘She deserves to know what you’ve been hiding.’ Bodhi glowered. You were still watching him, and he hadn’t opened his mouth…and he heard your dragon?
A new deep sophisticated tone entered your mind, ‘Cleasaí the inevitable is going to happen—‘ Cuir?
‘That I’ll find out?’ You stood in that mental art studio you were taught to use as your source for grounding. The door wide open letting in the thoughts and voices that freely flew through your mental guards. That one invisible string that led to the door seemed to have an added two now.
“Shit,” Bodhi hissed.
“How long?” You gritted your teeth, focusing on the man in front of you. He stayed quiet. “How long did you know?” You repeated louder.
He looked at the ground, “since my threshing.”
You tensed, how come he knew, but you had been clueless this whole time?
‘It’s not ideal to have one rider running from the other while their supposed mated dragons aren’t even on speaking terms.’ Cuir explained.
You fought the tears that lined your eyes, ‘he gets to know, while I’m left in the dark?!’
‘That was for Cleasaí to tell you, my rider had no choice to listen to us dragonkind.’ Cuir explained with a steeliness.
‘And I told her I would tell her in due time.’ Cleasaí chuffed in the corners of your mind.
It felt crowded in your brain, two additional voices, on top of your grappling emotions. You inhaled deeply, blinking tears away furiously.
“Y/n,” Bodhi came towards you. “I wanted to tell you.”
“When was I going to be told?” You snapped. “When you graduate?!” A couple tears now silently slip down your cheeks.
You didn’t know where to point the frustration at. Cleasaí should have told you it was her responsibility, but if Bodhi wanted to talk to you so badly that would have been the topic to start with.
“Our luck would be they would stick you in Samara like Xaden!” You shouted.
“When was I supposed to tell you? When you were running the other direction?! Or would you have preferred a note during Battle Brief only for you to go into a volatile meltdown?” He argued.
You laughed harshly, “I would have not—”
“Oh yes you would have.” Bodhi rolled his eyes. “That’s why Xaden warned me not to.”
Your eyes widened, “Xaden knew?”
‘Why wouldn’t the Wingleader know?’ Cleasaí snorted humorlessly.
‘I don’t want to hear it from you.’ You growled shutting the mental shield up from her and hopefully Cuir. You didn’t know how this all worked.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He’s known since before you even crossed the parapet.”
“Does anyone else know?” You crossed your arms.
“Assumedly Violet, but no one else.”
Your eyes narrowed, she seemed to know everything didn’t she?
You grew quiet, mulling over everything as the rain was the only sound that filled the streets. You felt betrayed, not only by the creature that put their faith into you and vice versa, but by the man you had grown to love. Was that why you had felt like your irritation was an out of body experience earlier?
“Why do you think I have a churam dependency?” Bodhi bit the corner of his thumb, looking at you.
“Can you get out of my mind?” You frowned, picking the soggy sweater up off the cobblestone. You sniffled, wiping your face, before proceeding to walk towards Basgiath, wanting to get out of the vicinity of him. To think you could have died without even knowing… what would have happened to the dragons—yet worse—him? You didn’t even want to ponder over the details that entailed that yet.
“Trust me I’m not trying, but your thoughts are so fucking loud.” He muttered, following you.
“Then can you not follow me?” You turned, walking backwards wiping wet hair out of your face. The sting in your eyes is almost blinding from fighting the glaze of tears.
“It’s not safe to walk by yourself this time at night.” He said as if it was obvious.
“I’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure as you slipped the dagger out of your top, you tucked between your breasts when getting ready.
“You’ve been drinking, Y/n. That’s not going to do shit.” He tried to catch up to you, but you were a step ahead, even walking backwards.
“I feel stone cold sober at this moment.” You half lied, quickly turning back around, putting the dagger back where you kept it. You didn’t want him to see how your lip trembled, and you were ready to break. That was the last thing you needed was to have a ‘volatile meltdown’ in front of him. Though that’s what this whole night felt like, a tantrum of a fever dream.
You two came to a fork in the path that led to Basgiath from Chantara. You may have forgotten which path you took earlier in the night. So you hoped as you veered left, you would be going the right way, anything to just get away.
But his hand caught your arm, pulling you around to face him.
“I just got you back, I’m not letting you just be barely out of my reach again.” He seethed, his grip firm, but gentle. His touch was still blistering against your own skin.
“I’m not doing it, Y/n. I’ve already spent years running for you when you just kept running backwards for whatever reason!”
The tears had silently begun to fall again down your cheeks, this time unable to stop. “Do you want the reason, Bodhi?” You could feel yourself start to shake as the words left your mouth. “Because I love you!” You finally admitted, the confession a hushed whisper.
You watched with tears flowing freely as he staggered back a couple steps at what you said. He remained quiet as you continued. “I was never meant to love someone freely. And everyone I loved left—”
Your declaration is cut off by his lips smashing to yours. A primal fiery heat as your lips connected, his hands cupping your jaw, your lips melted with his realizing he was kissing you. The taste of the saltiness from your tears mixed with the essence of alcohol on both your lips was dizzying.
This was everything you could have imagined and more since you were a young woman. Everything you wanted the past five years. You felt his thumbs brush underneath your chin as you relished the feeling as you continued to kiss him with a fervor you never experienced. Your hands sliding up his chest around the back of his neck, gripping on his wet dark curls you’ve always admired. A soft sigh left his lips, and it was a noise you could listen to forever, but of course your thoughts spiraled.
A much more important secret was withheld from you, not only by him, but Cleasaí. A petty love confession that you withheld as a way to protect yourself and what you thought would protect him, when the secret of bonded dragons affected four beings outweighed it all. Whether it was his choice or not.
You pulled away abruptly. “I-I can’t.” You said, feeling your own heart break.
“What do you mean you can’t?” He sputtered, confused.
“Me professing my love doesn’t change any of the circumstances.” You shook your head, letting go of him reluctantly. “If anything it only adds to the risk of this whole situation.”
You needed to think about everything thoroughly, and away from him. If not, you might not think straight. You had to go.
“Y/n,” Bodhi pleaded desperately. He watched you turn and make your way back to the war college. You ignored him, even when your bones itched to turn and run back into his arms. “Do my feelings mean nothing to you?!” He shouted, standing where you left him.
Your steps faltered, and that break you felt in your chest worsened. You turned, with a strained smile on your face through your tears.
“They do, more than you could ever realize.”
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Y/n is definitely Violet coded I’m sorry 😅 and the y/n lore will thicken in part 5 hehe
Thank you sm for the comments and support, it means a lot to have people that actually enjoy what I put out and try to have patience for my posting inconsistency!! I love talking with you all about it and hearing your conspiracies through out the whole series. I think there will be 2-3 more part before I finish and move on to my next ventures, but as always like, reblogs, and comments are appreciated 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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valyriantarg · 1 month
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Dance Of Dragons
Introduction
Pairing:OC!Targaryen x Cregan Stark
Princess Jaehaera Targaryen
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“Fire will reign”
Princess Jaehaera Targaryen, first born daughter of Prince Daemon and Lady Rhea Royce, first ever rider of the Cannibal.
Jaehaera was raised by her father during his multiple exiles. Despite the lack of a mother, Daemon did his best to raise his daughter. He taught her high Valyrian and everything he knew of their inheritance and culture. By an early age he taught her to fight making her an excellent and fearful opponent almost as good as he was.
The girl inherited her father’s Valyrian characteristics and his behaviour. She had a presence that commanded attention. Long silver hair, a pale face with a sharp face bone structure and amethyst eyes. However, she was short tempered and often appeared sassy and rebellious just like her father. The similarities in her behaviour to the one of her father’s earned her the name “The rogue Princess”.
She wouldn’t shy away from a fight and she preferred spending her time practicing with a sword rather than stitching and embroidering.
Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North
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“There has never been a Stark who forgot an oath and with house Stark the north will follow”
Tall, lean and broad-shouldered, Lord Cregan is in his prime, at the height of his physical power. A young Lord in comparison to others with dark brown hair and blue grey eyes.
An honourable, respectful and firm Lord. A man that keeps his word and never forgets and oath. He has fought many battles and he is a skilled fighter who fights for the good of his people.A man kings turned into when trouble arises.
When King Viserys dies and the realm goes into chaos cregan is one of the first lords who bends the knee to Queen Rhaenyra, siding with the blacks after the arrival of Prince Jacaerys.
Jace befriended Lord Cregan Stark at Winterfell, as the prince reminded the lord of a younger brother who had passed away. After drinking and hunting together, the pair swore an oath of brotherhood and he gained the north’s support.
A pact was made securing the alliance. The pact of ice and fire.
So what will happen when fate intertwines the lives of a Stark and a Targaryen during the times of war?
An alliance that goes beyond duty.
Ice meets fire for the first time in history and they don’t destroy each other.
King Viserys’ prophecy will come true and a new union will be made.
A glimpse of the future.
The song of ice and fire
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Lord Cregan and Lady Jaehaera Stark of Winterfell
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