#or am i little things that act like gifts to their heir?

[poetryinsepiatones]

dude

i just found out i knit left-handed.

i knit left handed because my older sister taught me how to, because my aunt taught her how to, because her older sister, who was left handed, taught her how to. and it's like that one thing that went around for a while that said "you're face is from thousands of faces of people who were loved" or something, except all i am is just a collection of little habits and sayings from the people i've loved and the people they've loved over and over again. i am just patchwork within patchwork within patchwork, each something that was loved enough to be remembered

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | four

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)

Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...

It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.

She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.

Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.

She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.

She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.

Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.

His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.

"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."

Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."

Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.

So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.

But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.

"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."

Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"

And then silence fell.

Why had she helped them?

She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.

Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.

"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."

My father.

When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?

Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.

He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.

"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”

"Well, don't tell me."

Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?

Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.

But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?

And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"

There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.

"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."

"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.

"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."

"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."

Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.

"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."

Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.

With that mask she had learned to wear.

Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.

They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.

"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"

"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."

And they fell silent again.

The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.

She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.

"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."

"Yes, unfortunately."

"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."

"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."

"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"

“Elain and Nesta.”

"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."

Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.

"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."

And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.

Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.

He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.

"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."

Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.

"I didn't ask for this, princess."

Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.

"Great, neither did I."

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd

[dark-and-kawaii]

୨♡୧ A Dance ୨♡୧

Summary: Raphael notices his little mouse has been acting unusual lately. He takes matters into his own hands quite literally and offers you a dance to sooth your troubles.

₊˚⊹♡ Content: Soft Raphael - Slow Dancing

₊˚⊹♡ Pairing: Raphael x F!Reader/Tav

₊˚⊹♡ Notes: A little gift for me dear @octarinecat xoxo

Raphael’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight of his little mouse’s distress. Your delicate form was curled inward as you leaned against his balcony, your usual bright eyes now clouded with worry. The evening of Avernus promised hellish storms, the warm breeze playing with strands of your hair, but you seemed oblivious to the gentle caress.

“What troubles you so, little mouse?” Raphael’s voice was soft, a stark contrast to the usual commanding tone he used while dealing with others.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, your eyes filled with emotions he had rarely seen directed at him by you, “I- I,” you stuttered, clutching your arm as if to steady yourself, “I can’t help but worry. That you’ll have no use for me once you hold the crown.”

Raphaels heart, if one could call the smoldering pit within him that, ached slightly. Ah, to be the cause of such pain, normally he would be delighted in it but seeing you, his little mouse, his eager little pup whom is always ready to please him like this, well he didn’t necessarily care for it.

Stepping closer, his devilish presence looming, yet oddly gentle, “My dear, how naive you can be at times.”

“You are powerful, destined to be an archdevil,” you murmured, your voice quiet, “I’m just some simple creature in your grand scheme. What use am I once all is done.”

Raphael extended his hand, his gesture an open invitation, “to stand by my side as my queen.”

As your small hand slipped into his you couldn’t help but to smile at him, his eyes filled with sincerity and promises.

With a gentle pull, he brought you close to him, your body pressing lightly against his, “to provide me with an heir worthy of ruling beside me in the hells.” His voice velvety that seemed to resonate with the soft melodies of the damned souls that were summoned to play a song only for the two of you.

You nodded, a blush spreading across your face, your earlier fears and worry melting away as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. Raphael, with practiced ease, began to lead you in a slow dance. His movements smooth, almost hypnotic, guiding you with a gentle firmness that spoke of ages spent in grand ballrooms.

The balcony beneath them might have been small compared to other parts of his home, but to you it felt boundless like the night sky. Raphael’s touch was both a flame and a balm, burning away your fears and soothing your doubts. It was all so soothing, easy enough for you to let down your guard once again and rest your head against his chest, listening to his hums.

As you both moved, Raphael could feel the tension give way, and he could feel your steady breathing once more, “You are mine, my dear. And you have nothing to fear so long as you stay where you belong.”

Raphael smiled, the curve of his lips a wicked thing as he watched your form press against his more so than before. This little mouse would always be his, no matter what.

[sotwk]

Cinder Girl (Fíli x unnamed OC)

Summary: The Crown Prince of Erebor faces the dilemma of losing his heart to a lovely yet humble palace servant.

Word count: 2.4 k

Content: Fluffy, tropey romance and comfort, Durins Live AU, post-BotFA, class division, love confession, Pining Prince Fíli

Rating: General (no warnings apply)

To Read on AO3: Link

Dedication and Inspiration: Thank you to the Anon who inspired this concept long ago by sending me this message! <3

Also for my friend, @guardianofrivendell, a true Fíli aficionado with an incredible repertoire of fics of our beloved Dwarf Prince. You probably don't remember, but this fic fulfills the "Love Confessions" request you made from my Valentine Event in 2023! Better late than never? Welcome back! <3

Cinder Girl 

The Reclaimed Kingdom of Erebor

Third Age 2945

What to do, what to do? The proper thing, of course. The decision should be that simple, and it usually was so for Fíli.  

Except now. Except when it came to her. 

The young dwarf lord tugged on the beaded braid of his mustache and leaned forward in the cushioned bench on which he sat. He made a motion to stand, only to plop back down again with a frustrated grunt. He had been dithering that way for the last ten minutes, at least. 

And he had spent twice as long sitting there, only half ashamed of allowing himself to enjoy the sight that surprised him when he returned to his chambers following a day-long council meeting. 

I am just looking, is all, Fíli reminded himself, desperate to excuse his poor manners. He knew the right thing to do would be to gently wake her, assure her that she was in no trouble, and allow her to discreetly exit the room she should never have been caught in. 

Surely this was a sign. A gift from Mahal himself, to force his stubborn, weak arse into action. Yet there he was again, he who was hailed as the Lion of Erebor, one of the bravest warriors in the kingdom, just sitting there stupidly, staring as he always did, because he could never find neither strength nor courage to do anything else in the presence of this dwarrowdam that stole the very breath from his lungs. 

Even as she lay there on the lush fur rug by the fireplace, in a cozy warmth that likely had lulled her to sleep, her presence paralyzed him. She was that very rare gem, found only once in a generation, exquisite in itself without need for cutting or polishing, or settings of gold, or other fine stones to accompany it. 

"Beyond beautiful," Fíli thought, and his chest filled with both longing and wonderment of how utterly she had ensnared him with so little effort, with such little awareness of the effect she caused.

She had dazzled Fíli the moment she cast her first smile and first spoke his name, and from then on the prince was blind to all others. When she laughed, Fíli finally understood why his brother Kíli constantly acted the fool just to earn that sweet sound from his own lady’s lips.

And so Fíli neglected to mention the titles that accompanied his name, and as a result he was able to enjoy hours of conversations with the newcomer from the Blue Mountains, basking in her uninhibited laughter and open stories and playful touches.

But the ruse would not last even a month. When she finally discovered that the new “friend” who had welcomed her to Erebor was actually King Thorin’s heir, next-in-line to the throne of Durin, an invisible wall rose between them. She never laughed in the same way around him again. She remained friendly and kind, yes, but every action toward him was suddenly restrained by prim courtesy. Their once animated conversations were dampened by measured, cautious responses. Even her beautiful smile was dimmed by a strange sadness, as though the knowledge of his royal identity disappointed her. 

"Please, you don't have to…" he said, when he once tried to stop her from bowing to him as they passed each other in the hall. 

"It is only proper, my lord," she murmured, keeping her lovely eyes lowered to her feet, only doubling Fíli's frustrations. "I bid you a good day, Prince Fíli."

And she hurried away with her cleaning pail in tow, before Fíli could offer to help, before he could muster up the nerve to invite her to dinner, which was why he had come down to the servants’ hall in the first place. All he had succeeded in doing was send the tongues of the palace domestic staff wagging. 

Eventually Fíli's despair grew heavy enough that he sought Balin's counsel, daring not to broach the topic with the one person who could completely relieve him of his fear: that no future was possible between the Heir of Durin and a dwarf not only from a different clan, but without rank or advantages. 

Balin remained silent while Fíli laid out his entire predicament--during the prince’s impassioned speech, and a long while after. Too long, so much that the thoughtful calm Fíli usually admired in his sagacious old cousin only set his teeth on edge.

“I must say this is troubling news to hear indeed,” Balin finally spoke, tugging thoughtfully at his beard.

“Troubling?!” Fíli exclaimed. “How could you already deem it as such when you have not yet met her? What matters her lack of status when she is the sweetest and gentlest soul to ever bless me with her company?! That is, until she decided she could no longer tolerate my presence,” he amended glumly. 

“Calm yourself, boy.” Balin chuckled between sips of his ale. “You have only ever raved this passionately about very few things before, and never about a bonnie lass. For a moment I thought I might actually be speaking to Kíli.”

“That isn't close to either the comfort or counsel I was hoping for, Balin.”

“Harrumph. That is because I have neither of those things for you, lad! What you need is to be slapped back into your senses!” Balin shook a stout finger at the dwarf-prince. “Have you so little knowledge or faith in your Uncle that you could not bring this matter straight to him?”

Fíli drew back, eyebrows lifted in bewilderment. “I thought he would scoff at the frivolity of it, before declaring my desire for her as unsuitable.”

“Because the girl is common?” Balin snorted when Fíli nodded. “It would wound Thorin so deeply to hear this, that I shall not even bother repeating your words to him.” He reached across the dinner table to grip Fíli’s arm. “Your Uncle risked his life, risked everything to take back this Mountain for you, my boy. To give you the future that he felt you deserved. Do you think that future is all about gold?”

Balin smiled and slapped Fíli gently on his slack-jawed face. “It is about choice, and freedom. The freedom to chase whatever dreams you wish. Go and speak to Thorin. It appears there is much he needs to clarify about his expectations of you as the realm’s prince and his heir.” 

Fíli had genuinely intended to heed Balin’s advice to discuss things with his uncle. But after failing to quickly gain an audience with the chronically busy king, he let his nerves conquer him yet again, as he put off pursuing that conversation. And so day after day passed with him stuck in the plight of his own making… leading at last to that evening, when the source of his agony literally lay right before him inside his own chambers, demanding to be dealt with.

The more time passed with him just sitting and staring at the sleeping chambermaid, the longer each minute seemed to stretch, and the more ridiculous Fili felt in his inertness. 

Just when his frustration came to its peak, and he felt unable to tolerate himself any longer, the prince rose quietly and stepped towards the figure on the fur rug. 

A pounding knock barely gave him any warning before his chamber door swung wide open and Kili barreled inside. “Did you not say you were starving, brother? What is taking you so--??”

Kili stopped short, his wide-eyed stare darting between Fili and the lady that had stumbled to her feet, disheveled and disoriented. It was impossible to tell who looked more mortified by his arrival. 

“Have I… am I interrupting something?”

“I am so very sorry, milords!” the maiden blurted out. “I didn't mean to, I---I am so--!” Her ashen face suddenly colored by the violence of her embarrassment, she grabbed her cleaning pail from the hearth. The contents rattled inside the metal bucket, so badly did her hands shake as she gave a hasty curtsy to the royal princes.

“N-no, no wait, please… h-hold on for just a moment--” Fili began, when his tongue finally came unstuck from the roof of his mouth, but it was too late. She rushed across the room and straight out the open door without ever lifting her gaze off the ground. 

“Brother, I am sorry, I didn't know--”

Fili brushed aside the apology and scrambled past Kili to fly out into the hallway. Panic had broken through his earlier paralysis and suddenly he could not move fast enough, his body acting beyond the constraints of his judgment. 

He called after her; the sound of her name and his footsteps chased her down the empty corridor. But to Fili's dismay she did not stop or even slow down, and just as she was about to turn a corner and descend the stairs leading from the palace wing, a desperate shout escaped containment, partially strangled in the tightness of his throat, but still too loud to be ignored. 

“I love you, all right?! I love you!!”

The frantic clatter of the metal pail ceased, and all Fili could hear against the ensuing silence was the roar of his pulse beneath his ears. In several strides, he closed the distance to come before the maiden. She stayed rooted to the spot and motionless, apart from the heaving of her bosom as she chased her breath. 

“This was not how I wanted you to find out.” The calm in his own voice surprised Fili, as did the confidence that drove his words. “But I also do not wish to take it back. Hiding from the truth has gained me nothing but pain.”

“I appreciate your candor, milord, and I regret your pain.” She continued to address him, but her eyes remained firmly lowered towards her hands, white-knuckled in their grip around the pail handle. “But what am I to do with these fine words you offer? How can a peasant be worthy to receive the affections of a prince?”

“Worthy?” Fíli repeated in distaste. “What causes you to believe that you must be worthy to--?”

“You are the future King of Erebor.” She spoke loudly over him, as though she had not heard him at all, or was determined not to. “The blood of Durin the Deathless runs in you! I am just a nobody from a Broadbeam village in the Blue Mountains--” 

“I was born in such a village, same as my father!” Fíli cut her off with matching fervor. “And you are certainly not ‘just a nobody’ to me.”

Something in his words finally reached her, for at last she raised her bowed head ever so slightly, just enough for her gaze to meet his, and the tears that shimmered in her eyes wiped away the last of his hesitation.

“We are not different, ghivashel. Not in any way that matters.”

Her smile that bloomed at that word, one that proclaimed her more precious than any treasure in Erebor, revived a light in him that had gone out in the long weeks of her absence. 

When Fíli reached out to relieve her of the cleaning pail, she did not resist. Grasping her wrist, he rested her open hand upon his. He swept his thumb back and forth all across her palm, over the red scrapes and dirt-streaked calluses that made her all the more beautiful and admirable in his eyes.

“Not long ago, I spent each waking day with my face smeared in soot, my arms and hands burnt from the blaze of forge fires, aching to the bone after hours of back-breaking labor.”

He pushed up his tunic sleeve to show her: the patches of discolored skin from old burns, the countless scars that littered the entire length of his arm, almost to his elbow. 

“But I would always go to bed happy, and proud of my honest living, of the smith that I was.” He shook his head and corrected himself. “The smith that I am. Whatever titles and additional duties I may now carry as a consequence of my inheritance, I am still that same soot-covered dwarf.”

He sealed her hand between his two and lightly kissed the fingertips that peeked out from the cage of his palms.

“All I ask is for a chance to show you that,” he said softly. “With the hope that you might come to love what you see in me. For I have already, absolutely, fallen in love with everything I see in you.”

Her silence filled the entire length of the passageway, all the way up to the high ceilings. Under the crushing weight of its persistence, Fíli’s hope started to falter. But as the fear of his failure to convince her started to creep in, his grip all the more tightened around her hand. He couldn't let go. He did not know how he could ever let her go.

“From the first day we met,” she finally spoke. “I already loved everything I saw in you…Fíli of the Blue Mountains.” She tipped her chin up and squared her shoulders, face set with resolution alongside her gentle smile. “I think that love can bring me the courage I need to let the other side of you, Prince Fíli of Erebor, into my heart as well.” 

Fíli’s entire being swelled with such relief and unbridled joy he thought he might catch flame. His arms found themselves around her waist, drawing her close to his desire to demonstrate the feelings he had restrained for too long.

Alas, a sudden and deafening crash rang through the hall to cut off Fíli’s eager quest.  “Sorry, sorry!” yelped a guilty voice in the shadows.

Fíli groaned, then chuckled, and settled for another chase kiss upon his lady’s hand. 

“Would you care to have dinner with my brother and I?” he asked her, nodding in the direction of the ruckus as Kíli struggled to straighten up the decorative suit of armor he had knocked over. “An unrepentant snoop he may be, but I can assure you he is otherwise harmless and actually quite pleasant company.”

“It sounds like a wonderful start to getting to know the rest of you,” she said, eyes bright from their shared laughter, free of even a speck of her earlier doubts. “Because I very much would like to know everything, Fíli. To discover and delight in every wonderful bit of you.”

“And you shall have that,” Fíli vowed, brushing his thumb over the curve of her cheek, over an ashy mark of the fireplace cinders that had brought her back to him. “You already do have me, but I shall also endeavor to give the whole world to make you happy.”

“You are already the whole world,” she declared, and rose on her toes to do what he could not, sealing their confessions with a sound kiss.

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[ultralightpoe]

Kin of Mine - Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: This is a series following blood of my blood, following Aemond through parenthood 

Warnings: smut, kid on kid violence, maiming 

Word Count: 2603

Description: Aemond has his family, now he must keep them safe 

HOTD MASTER LIST 

BLOOD OF MY BLOOD - PART 2 - PART 3 

MY AEMOND TAGLIST IS OPEN, LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO JOIN! LOTS OF STORIES FOR HIM COMING UP

next part: Kin of Sorrow

              The challenge to Aemonds heir came as no surprise to him, it was bound to happen eventually. 

              Standing to the right of the throne room, once again looking up to his father in a patient wait for him to choose a side. This time, instead of coming here by himself, you stood behind him. Heavily pregnant and holding the hand of your son Caspian. 

            Aemond tried not to be irritated at you having to be here, even when the doctor demanded you rest due to an injury regarding you slipping off vhagar whilst 8 months pregnant. You should be in your chambers, laying in your bed and not stressing the child any more than needed. 

            He could not survive another chance of losing you or your next babe. 

             To his left, also facing the throne, was the challenger. Your deceased husband's pudgy little brother, who had taken the role of lord of his land, came to King's Landing to challenge the fact that Aemond named Caspian his heir. 

               He came to take Caspian as a ward. He came to take Caspian away from Aemond and you. A threat Aemond would not let pass kindly. 

             “When my dearest brother was murdered in cold blood here at the castle-” The stout man argues. “We awaited Lady Y/n return with my brother's son. As is expectation and tradition. She would have been given a room to stay in as Caspian became my ward. It is his legacy. Instead I am told she married the young prince and he named Caspian as his heir.”

               “May I remind you, Lord Fervor, that your brother attacked the prince in the training yard. Multiple witnesses saw it. It was an act of defense.” Alicent argues, voice calm as she looks to the man. 

               Aemond hadn’t spoken to his mother since he married you on Dragonstone. He had sworn his sword to Rhaenyra and he intended to keep you safe. His half sister stood beside you today with the rest of her family, including her bastard sons. 

              “It went to trial Lord Fervor.” Rhaenyra agrees, nodding her head softly and rubbing your arm as Aemond looks to her for a split second. He gives you a small smile which you turn your nose up to.

               Shit, he was still in trouble with you. That he would have to fix. If Aemond had to sleep on the couch one more time he would go nuts. 

             “It is still wrong. Caspian is a-”

              “Caspian is Lady Y/n's son. And we will not drag the boy away from his mother.” The hand of the king snipes, looking to his grandson with a dignified raise of brow. “In most cases the mother would go back but in this case Aemond married her to amend his mistake”

             Bile rises in his throat at that. He had married you because he loved you, and here they were talking about you like you were a piece of meat.

“It does not make sense for him to name Caspian as his heir.” The man's voice was raising now, taking a step towards the throne. “A Targaryen heir without a dragon is-”

             “He has a dragon.” Aemond snaps, fueled on by the soft whispers of his son behind him, just learning to talk. “Upon my marriage to Lady Y/n I gifted her son with a dragon egg. Targaryen tradition.”

             “A dragon gifted to someone without any Targaryen blood. You really expect me to believe that?!” 

              “To what are you implying?” Aemond stepped towards him, standing a little straighter.

                “Your involvement in that boys life is intriguing.” He seethes, hand flying to his sword laid at his waist. “One might say that-”

              “LORD FERVOR I RECOMMEND YOU BITE YOUR TONGUE!” His father calls across the room, guards all moving in from all sides. 

           “Say it.” Aemond urges, jaw clenched as he takes another step forward. “Say. It.”

             “SHE IS A WHORE AND THAT THING IS YOUR BASTARD-” Aemond didn’t aim for the neck, or the abdomen. No, this time he swung his sword right down the mans head. 

           Blood splattered over him as everyone gasped, Caspian screaming and crying in the background.  

             He doesn’t waste a second on the body, moving to turn to his wife and son. He finds them held together, your arms around him as you cradle his head. 

           Shame and dread fills his body as he moves towards you both, placing his hand on your upper back just as he always does when he wishes to lead you away. You follow his silent order, walking out of the throne room with Caspian in your arms sobbing. 

          You do your best as quieting the boy but Aemond softly grabs him from you before you stress yourself out. He quiets down as he reaches for his fathers eyepatch, once again desperate to see the gem underneath. 

             “I must go see Halaena after that.” You state, turning to stomp off. 

            “Nuh uh.” He’s quick to snatch your elbow and spin you back gently, giving you his best glare. “How much longer?”

             “I have no clue how long I will be.” He hated when you played foolish, hated it because you were cunning enough to avoid his actual question. 

              Reaching a hand up to rub at your jaw comfortingly and bring your forehead to his. “I meant how much longer will you be mad with me, little bird?”

           “Five more days.” You jest, leaning into his touch as Caspian touches his own forehead against your cheeks in an attempt to join the love. 

          “What may I do to reduce my punishment?” 

             “Maybe we shall figure it out tonight.” You tease, kissing his lips softly. When you pull away Aemond follows, desperately, but you place your finger on his lips to push him back softly. “Do not let that thing hurt our son.”

            “Do not let Haleana eat you.” He smiles, watching you waddle away before taking Caspian to the dragonpit.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

              He keeps one hand on Caspians stomach, keeping the boy to his chest as he stays crouched down to hold both their hands out to the blue dragon babe in front of them. 

              He has done this every afternoon with Caspian and his dragon, Vhagar sitting not far behind them watching tiredly. He moves Caspian closer, inch by inch. “Closer now, closer…..closer.”

              Caspian giggles as his small hand finally touches the dragon's snout, a low hum coming from the dragon at the movement. “There it is. Say hello to it now Cas-”

             They work like this for hours, teaching the young boy words he needs to learn while bonding the dragon and the boy. 

              Aemonds attention drags to Vhagar who began stirring around. “Easy now Vhagar.”

            He pulls Caspian up into his arms and goes to Vhagar, rubbing her snout. “What’s going in-”

            “Prince Aemond!” A maid calls, running into the pit. “Your wife…..the labor has begun.” 

             Aemond is tearing through the halls in a second. He hears your screams down the hall, handing Cas off to the awaiting arms of a handmaiden before fixing himself up and moving to enter the room. 

            “My prince, you shouldn’t.” A young maid stops him at the door. “My lady isn’t in a decent manner-”

              “Fuck off.” He sneers and pushes past her to enter. You were panting on the bed, his mothers hand gripped in your own as Rhaenyra rubs a warm washcloth on your forehead. 

           “Mother-” All their heads snap to his voice, his mother standing tall and letting go of your hand. 

              “Aemond, you should not be here. It is indecent.” She snaps but he once again shoves past the argument to grip your hand. 

             “How are you feeling, little bird?” He whispers, pushing the hair out of your face as your grip tightens, a painful moan coming out of your mouth in an answer. “Ah, I see. My princess is giving you a fight….”

              You crack a smile at the jest, tugging his hand closer to your chest to hold onto like a pillow. 

               3 hours later Aemond is sitting with you on the bed, a small bundle in your arms as he looks down upon both of you in quiet contempt. 

            “Rhaenyra.” You whisper and Aemond turns to see where his half sister had gone. “No. Look Aemond. Rhaenyra.”

               He understands when you rub the baby's nose very gently, tears filling his eyes as he kisses your temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aemond hated his daughter. 

             Hated her in the fact that she absolutely enjoyed scaring the life out of him every single chance she could get. 

              Rhaenyra is five now, her white hair braided out of her face as she glares at him in the dragon pit. “Rhaenrya. BACK. DOWN.”

              His voice echoes around the pit, watching as his daughter stomps her booted foot in the mud, shaking her head. “If I have to say it one more time then you are banned from the dragonpit for another week.”

            He would never, even the thought of keeping one of his children from their dragon has his gut churning. He would never want them to feel that pain. 

          “Mom says-”

              “Your mother is not here and she was discussing your history lessons when she said hands-on learning is important. I have told you time and time again not to rush the dragon.” He snaps, pulling her close to his side again. “Your brother's dragon is far too large for you to be pushing like that. Do that again and you will be in severe trouble. Do you understand  baby bird?”

           She doesn’t answer, instead swing her braid and storms off, leaving her father kneeling in the mud watching her disappear with a grunt of disapproval. 

           “Where is Rhany going?” Caspian calls, running forward to stand by his father. 

            “Home.” Aemond sighs, standing to bring his son back to where his dragon sat. “Now show me what you’ve been practicing.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

               Vhagar flew straight up into the sky, dragging a scream from your lips as Aemond laughs, feeling free. 

                These were some of his favorite moments with you. His thighs pressed against yours, your back firmly pressed against his chest and your ass rubbing against him perfectly.

            “Are you going to take back your mean words?” He asks into your ear, arms wrapped around you to keep hold of Vhagars reigns.

              “Aemond Targaryen if you do not ease your dragon this instant-” He grabs your neck then, pulling your face back to look at him. 

            “Say the magic words then little bird.” 

                “FINE! YOU’RE THE BEST FUCK IN WESTOROS!” You scream as Vhagar keepings going, Aemond laughing as he calls for her to smooth out. “You utter child.”

               “Easy now, wife.” He says lowly, slipping a hand from the reins to start dragging your dress further up your thigh and touch your center. “I’m just having some fun...”

              A soft moan falls from you as your head falls back into his shoulder. “Aemond…..Aemond this is dangerous.”

             “Just give in….. Give me what I want little bird.” He whispers, fingers sinking into you in a quick pace. “You can do that, you can give me what I want, can’t you?”

            “No.” You moan, trying to stop his wrist. “You can barely tame the first Two. I am not giving you another.”

             “Just one more. Another Targaryen, please.” He nips at your ear while his fingers thrust up.  “Just give in. You know you’ll let me-”

                “I will never fuck you again if it means we don’t risk another child. Do you hear me Aem-”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

               “-OND FUCK!” You scream, head hitting the wall of the dragon pit as your arms wrap tighter around him, his thrusts harsh and heavy. Your nails are digging into his tunic, clawing to get to his skin as the sound of skin slapping fills the air. 

               “This is all I fucking want-” He grunts out, the hand placed in your hair fisting and tugging back until your moaning from the pain. “All you have to do….fuck…. Is let me fuck you full until you’re carrying again.”

            “People could walk in!” You gasp out, head hitting the wall of the small dragon stable currently empty, dragging him closer. 

            “Then I suggest you cum birdy.” He mutters slowly, speeding up with a vengeful look.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

           Caspian Targaryen, first of the name, was a fearful creature. 

            He had a dragon, an intensely protective father, a younger sister with a crazed madman look, and a cunning mother. But he also had the bastard title. 

              It was never proven, and it would never be fully proven. But everyone knew, the eyes were the ones that gave it away. He had his sisters eyes, his fathers eyes……Targaryen eyes. 

              The boy often had vivid dreams of his fathers eyes, having been so interested in them growing up it was only fair he admire the way his father carried himself, knowing that he was insecure about it. 

               The only times Caspian saw his father without his patch were near his mother, you refused to kiss the man with that thing on, claiming it ruins the rugged effect. How dare he even try to snag a kiss before removing that ugly piece of leather.

                  His father would shake his head and pretend to be mad, but the way he stood a little taller and smiled a little larger told Caspian that this little family his father had made were the few people who didn’t target the eye or treat him as a monster.

                 So Caspian took after his father’s example and refused to back down as the bastard rumors spread. But that was easier said then done.

              His cousin, Jaeherys, was a cruel individual. He seemed to have it out for the boy as long as Caspian could remember. 

              They were all forced to train together, just as his father had trained with his cousins growing up, a way to keep the family close. But Jaeherys was using the time to attack his cousins. 

                 It had been a rough day in the training yard, and Caspian had not only thrown Jaeherys to the ground but had accidentally kneed him quite hard. Once Sir Criston dismissed everyone Caspian knew his cousin was going in for the kill. 

                “What’s the rush dear cousin?” Jaeherys calls, picking up a dagger from one of the tables. “Are you rushing off to your mommy and sweet little sister?”

             Caspian doesn’t give him an answer, instead he speeds up, not liking the dark. But two of his cousin's goonies snatch both his arms and force him to his knees in a struggle. 

              “You know…. Our grandmother had a brilliant idea the other day.” His cousin starts, coming to stand in front of the boy. “Once they put my father on the throne they are going to marry me off to your baby sister. A way to keep the alliance with your fucking traitor of a father-”

                “BACK OFF-” Caspian struggles, panicking in the hold of the two boys. 

               “You think your baby sister would like me fucking her?” His cousin laughs before showing the knife. “It’s disgusting that I have to train alongside you, nothing but an unwanted bastard you are.”

           “Fuck. You.” There was bile rising in his throat, he was going to be sick. But what would that matter, in a moment he would be dead.

            “I have an idea, lets make you look more like your father….. That way no one confuses you again.” He laughs and brings the knife high up into the air, bringing it back down as a large cry of pain fills the yard. 

—------------------------------

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A Crown fit for a God  (Part 5)

Part 4

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Ch Summary: Elain tries to hold on to whatever relationship she and Azriel have left. Will he submit to her desires? Or seek you out instead?

Or

You accidentally discover what the inside of a cell looks like. 

word count: 4.3k

Ch warnings: SA (groping, not graphic and no p in v), thoughts of murder, drugging, cheating (don't worry), slight pregnancy talk. 

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT,  mentions of SA, angst, hurt/comfort, war, murder including injuries, fighting, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, soft Az with a little temper, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I had something totally different planned but decided to take this little detour. Lol. I believe after this chapter we will see more of Azriel and reader interactions. I think. Idk. maybe. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

The following day Lucien had gotten into a fight with Eris, what was at first a screaming match turned physical, as fists flew left and right. Both males stubborn in their decision, Lucien adamant that he already had planned to run away with you to the Spring Court and Eris tried to explain that a life on the run was no life at all. He promised Lucien you’d be well taken care of and that you’d be a wonderful High Lady when the time came. “No! I’d rather die than watch her marry you.” Lucien roared, angering his brother even more. “We will leave in two days' time and you will not seek us out.” Two days. Eris had two days to figure out how to make you stay.  

If Eris was to be the next High Lord he’d have to do dishonorable things to get what he wanted. This was the first of many. “Gods forgive me for what I'm about to do,” he whispered to himself as he mixed the sex pollen into the cake batter. He placed the round tins in the oven, just like his mother had shown him many times before. Once the cake was frosted and decorated he hand delivered it to an old friend he hadn’t seen in a long while. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again Azriel watched as you walked away, a lone shadow ordered to follow and keep you  safe trailing behind you. Shame filled his guilty heart. He had never acted this way before, not with Mor or Elain or any other female he had in his bed. It was foolish to judge you when he’s had more than enough partners in the 500 plus years he’s been alive.   

Was he going to apologize by fetching you contraceptive tea from The Night Court, so you could sleep with someone else, while he pinned after you? 

Yes. Yes he was, and he certainly wasn't thrilled about it. 

The following morning you stumbled upon a small box on the front steps of your cottage; adorned in navy wrapping paper and secured with a golden bow. A small note was attached along with a violet flower, its stem carrying bulb-like flower buds waiting to bloom and berries as black as the midnight sky. You recognized the plant as Nightshade. 

My Queen of Death,

 I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive my ignorance. I'm ashamed that I've allowed my jealousy to transpire into hurtful words. Words that no female should ever hear and I truly apologize for judging your actions when my own are not very admirable. I realize that actions speak louder than words and I aim to show you just how sorry I am.  

Yours, Azriel

A small smile pulled at your lips as you unraveled the bow and looked inside the box. Three jars of finely crushed herbs, each labeled individually accompanied by a beautifully crafted infuser were neatly placed within the box. Along with healing salves for your wounds, and seeds to grow your own Nightshade. 

“What is that Fawn?” you didn’t hear as Eris winnowed to the cottage, his glare immediately finding the gift box in your hands. You had two options: lie and say it's just tea from a merchant or tell the truth and enrage the future heir. You were no coward, “It’s contraceptive tea from The Night Court,” you declared with not a hint of hesitation. Eris clenched his hands in a fist, taming the lingering flame that threatened to burst free in his rage. His nostrils flared in distaste for your actions. You knew the plan was to pretend to marry Eris and produce an heir, granting his fathers wishes. Somewhere along the way those pretend lies blurred into truth, at least for Eris. 

“Who did you get the tea from?” he asked, deeply inhaling the air around him, scenting for another male. Thank the Gods you had glamoured your scent, “My friend gifted it to me.” 

“You don’t have friends, I need a name now!” He seethed, clenching his jaw in anger.

You scowled at him, turning your back to him with the gift in your hands, heading back into the cottage. When he suddenly reached over, snatching the note from your hand. 

“Hey!” 

“My Queen?” He questions, reading over the note in a mocking tone and a furrowed brow, “your Azriel?” Eris smugly chuckles, "My Gods he really does know how to work the females doesn’t he? He doesn’t want to be your friend Fawn, he just wants to fuck you. I bet that's the reason he got jealous wasn't it?” He states, crumbling the note in his fist and setting it on fire with his magic. When he opens his fist again a small amount of ash floats to the ground. 

Eris had done what he always does. Place doubt in your mind that no one would ever want you more than a fuck buddy and no one has ever been friends with a Death God. The others were locked away in the prison, the weavers cottage, and the lake. Soon enough the other High Lords would come to know of you and your powers and lock you away like the rest. 

“You're right, but I still want the tea.” 

Eris stalks closer, taking the gift from your hands, “I’ll get you some new tea. This one probably has sex pollen in it. You can never trust the males of The Night Court. I’ve already told you, they share their females. And you're too precious to share.” 

Eris throws the box over this shoulder, setting it aflame before it even hits the ground. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, walking you inside the cottage, “Mother requests you at the Forest House. She wants you to wear a dress to Helion's celebration.”

~~~~

Azriel thought about your last words to him and it hurt him to admit you were right. No one had ever loved him. At least not as deeply as your love for Lucien. He wondered what your love would feel like. Would it be as fierce as you were, with power surging through your veins? Were you a hopeless romantic where you’d hold his hand and kiss him in the middle of the street on the rainiest day of the year? With how he was acting, that idea seemed so far off. So far each encounter with you was met with his illyrian ways of being a territorial, possessive, jealous male. He was man enough to admit he was jealous, Lucien had a piece of your heart, if not now then before. He had no right to be jealous, he was sleeping with Elain afterall. A situation he needed to end once and for all.

His curiosity was heavy enough to seek out the male and question the depths of the relationship. Not long after he landed back in Velaris, he found himself knocking on Lucien's apartment door, hoping to catch up. 

Lucien opened the door and he immediately regretted it. He wasn’t exactly fond of the illyrian who had been sleeping with his mate. Knowing very well Azriel’s appetite for beautiful females. He’d figure once he grew bored of Elain he’d find another female to bed and another and another, leaving those poor females a shell of their former selves. Lucien had no patience for small talk and he wasn't exactly interested in what the shadowsinger had to say, “whatever it is, I don’t care.” Lucien moved to close the door in Azriel’s face, unamused with the sudden visit.

“Wait!” Azriel pleaded, hand splayed over the door that was about to close on him. “I’m not here to talk about Elain, I’m ending it with her today. I’m here to talk about Khaos.” Lucien sighed, letting the shadowsinger enter his apartment. “Is she safe?” Lucien's worried eyes scanned Azriel for any hint of deception. “Yeah, she's safe, I just wanted to know how she was with you and now Eris. More importantly, what happened between you two? ”

Azriel walked over to Lucien's couch, Mid bend to make himself comfortable, “don’t sit. I don’t plan to entertain you,” Lucien spat, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel let the weight of his body plop down on the couch, arms stretched wide across the back cushion. His unwavering stare indicating he would get the answers to his questions. Lucien gritted his teeth in annoyance, “ I’m not telling you shit. What happened between us, remains between us.” 

Azriel nodded, understanding his hesitancy to give any details regarding a former lover, “It’s just that I’d like to get to know her bett-”

“Haven’t you had your fill?" Lucien interrupted with a scowl, “must you take every female that I love?” He scoffed. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.” 

There it was, his opening. Exactly what he was hoping for. Azriel didn’t hesitate in prodding further. 

“If you loved her, why did you leave?” 

Lucien shook his head, running his hand through his long locks, “No, not past tense. I still do. I’ll always…” Lucien swallowed, he couldn’t finish that sentence, it hurt too much. Azriel narrowed his eyes, Gods, he still loved you he thought to himself. He knew his next words would reopen a healed wound, but he needed more.  “You love her so much you let Eris fuck her too.” Azriel internally flinched at how tasteless the statement was. 

Lucien winced at the Shadowsingers clear attempt to rile him up, those crude words grating against his heart, “Get out!” 

Azriel smirked and threw his mud covered boots on top of the coffee table, rattling the few cups that lingered. Crossing his legs at the ankle, “the faster you tell me what I want to know, the faster I'll leave.” 

Lucien rubbed the space between his brows and let out an annoyed groan. His gaze fixed on a burgundy cloak that was thrown over an armchair. A cloak that once belonged to you, after all these years he still held onto it. Lucien's eyes glazed over in sadness as he recalled the reason he left, “after my father wished for Eris to court her, I tried to take her away to The Spring Court so we could be together. I went to our friend Jesminda's house to say my goodbyes. She invited me in for cake and tea, one thing led to another and I made the biggest mistake of my life. I couldn't tell her, so I left for Spring alone. ”

“You cheated on her?” Azriel asked. 

Lucien nodded, clearing his throat from the knot of emotion that threatened to break free. 

“You’re a fucking coward,” Azriel glared as he stalked towards the door, “she thinks the world of you and you couldn’t even tell her of your betrayal.” 

He opened the door to the apartment, leaving Lucien to sulk in misery,

“You said I don't deserve her, but it’s you who doesn't deserve a place in her heart. I’ll make sure she knows of your cowardice and infidelity.” 

Azriel slammed the door behind him and as he walked away he heard the cries of a wounded fox, shattered to pieces by a guilty conscience.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in front of a full length mirror, its reflection one you didn't recognize. Your eyes lacked the stars that once circled your pupils, your once moon like orb was no longer crisp and bright. No longer did you look like a God that brought blood and gore to those who deserved a painful death. How did the Goddess of Life succumb to a female with nowhere to go but beside her betrothed. To obey his every wish with a smile on your face. Only speak when spoken to and never voice the thoughts that lingered beyond those of dresses and motherhood.

Was your life to be on your back while Eris spilled his seed inside you, producing heir after heir until your very womb decayed. “Aos? Which color would you like the dress?” you shook your head, riding yourself from your detached thoughts. You met the eyes of Auren through the mirror, a seamstress tasked with measuring you for Helion’s Celebration. “Blue would look lovely, Thank you Auren.” 

“The Prince is wearing a deep cadmium red, it be wise to match with the future heir.” Auren explained as she struggled to wrap the measuring tape around your waist, placing her finger against your body, noting the inch at which her finger fit snugly against your skin. “Make it a royal blue Auren, it reminds me of home.” 

Her heavy breathing took you out of your thoughts and your eyes widened at her swollen belly, the reason for her struggle to reach around you. “Oh Auren, I didn’t realize. It’s not polite to comment-” 

“It’s alright really, just got harder to bend and move,” she laughed, rubbing her round stomach soothingly. You beamed as she cradled the life that was growing inside her. A warmth so familiar bloomed inside you. You knew all too well the reason pregnancy was difficult in the fae lands, ever since you fell from the sky procreation had severely diminished. Not forgotten or misplaced just pointless in a cruel world. You couldn't say you had nothing to do with it, you had everything to do with creation. So it was quite a shock to see Auren pregnant, “a miracle really. Congratulations Auren, you make a wonderful mother.” 

“It’s always been a dream of mine. Thank the Gods for this fertility tea.” She took a sip from her cup and as she set it down you glanced inside, “whole nuts?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Mhmm, it tastes gritty when they’re crushed down to a powder.” She grimaced as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Gritty?”

Weekly dinners with the Vanserras, you were served tea.

It couldn’t be. 

It was.

You paled. 

~~~~~~~

At dinner everyone moved around you carrying their conversations like you weren’t slowly dying inside. Like you were invisible. You sat unmoving, hands clasped within your lap as you burned a hole into the mug that accompanied your dessert. How long had you been drinking that tea? How long were you going to pretend to be Eris' lover? How long were you going to put on this mask of compliance and docility, when in reality you could rip the flesh from their bones with a blink of an eye. Slaughter each and every member of the Vanserras without a single ounce of remorse.

The more you dwelled on it the more plausible it seemed. Yes, you’d remove them all at once with the snap of your finger. Each death exactly the same as the next, painful in the way they’ve caused pain to others. No, tortuous. Starting with the slow removal of each fingernail, pulled directly from the nailbed followed by severing each finger until nothing remained of their hands but a bloody useless paw. You wouldn't stop there. Next you’d remove their feet below the ankles, better yet, below the knee, so that to move they'd need to drag their meat sack of bones across all the painful textures of the land. Each and every pull against the earth would reopen thin healed skin, leaving trails of crimson blood mixed with pus and torn flesh.

The cries of a once feared family would bring their citizens out only to shriek, and gasp in horror at the sight of the disfigured thing. As a mercy you’d allow them to keep their eyes and ears so they’d hear each vulgar degradation aimed at how mutilated and disgusting they looked, visualize the moment they made someone so ill all that could be done was vomit the contents of their stomach. No one would pin it on Eris if he was among the deformed. Though you weren’t so cruel, they did help you somewhat. Provide you with shelter, food, all the means that you’ve needed to survive thus far. Asphyxiation would be painless, you smirked.

Eris placed a panicked hand to the base of his throat, glancing around the table at his family; he noticed their glossy widened eyes. Their mouths hung open in a silent scream, opening and closing like a fish out of water, gasping for a breath of air. Utensils clattered to the ground as Lord Beron attempted to stand only to stumble clenching the table cloth for fear of falling. Eris’ amber gaze landed on your morbid stare. Eyes cloudy and pale with the promise of death in their unfocused glare.

The room spun round and round although he remained seated, knuckles white from gripping the wooden table. He felt himself slowly losing consciousness, the lack of oxygen to his brain pulling him under, a swipe across his nose made him nearly pass out as he felt blood drip down, coating his lips. Eris chanced one last look into the soul of beautiful death and found your lifeless eyes already claiming his beating heart. 

With a last ditch effort to reclaim his soul he struggled through the pounding inside his head. Placing a trembling hand against your thigh, conjuring the remaining power he had into a lick of flame. Burning against your thigh brought your thoughts back to dinner. Those heterochromia eyes morphed into the vibrant colors of the galaxy with a single blink. The sharp inhale of air surrounded the table as your mind released them from the claws of death's grip. “Must be the tea,” you challenged, voice dripping with insolence as your cold eyes met those of Lord Beron. “We’ve been poisoned!” Eris's younger brother Janus reported, pouring out his cup of tea showcasing the darkened goop that splattered to the ground. Eris’ gaze traveled from the cup to you and back again. A look of shock and hurt in the way he studied your indifference. Once everyone cleared the dinner table, Lord Beron ordered the guards to sweep the halls for a breach and check the tea imports for tampering. 

~~~~~

You made your way to your bed chambers when a rough hand tightly gripped your arm; shoving you against the stone walls with enough force to knock the sense out of you. Lord Beron lowered his mouth to your ear so no one else could hear his vile words. “If I have to chain your legs apart and force him on you, so be it! But you will let Eris fuck a babe into your pathetic cunt!” He snarled, voice dripping with the rot that plagued his evil soul. You stared at the grip he had on your arm, a bruise in the shape of fingertips already forming around your bicep. 

“Threaten me all you want-"

The back of Lord Berons palm landed across your cheek with an audible slap, whipping your face so hard you stumbled to the floor. Your fingertips sparked with electric current, adrenaline running through you, tempting you to act, to destroy everyone that got in your way. And Lord Beron would be the first to witness your fury. Defiantly, you stood to meet his stare, chin held high with pride, “I bow to no High Lord.” 

Lord Beron didn’t bother to strike you as he signaled for a guard to escort you below. Where they kept their murderers, thieves, and those that needed a reminder of who their High Lord was. Lord Beron didn’t know how powerful you were since you kept most of your magic to yourself and those close to you, so it came as a shock when a stainless steel collar dipped in faebane was locked around your neck, made to look like a simple necklace with the only key belonging to High Lord Beron. 

You were dragged down the cold halls farther than you knew existed, down a spiral of stone steps, passed the cells that housed the criminals of Autumn and last through a hidden wall disguised as an unassuming bookcase. Your heart rate spiked as you realized this area was one you had never seen before and it worried you that maybe that was the point. You tried to summon your magic despite the collar releasing its poison onto your skin, but with nowhere to release the rage, the opposite happened. Your power turned to its host and acted like a sedative, pulling you into a sleep-like state. 

In your near-unconsciousness you didn’t feel the rough hands of a guard help himself to the curves of your body, groping your breasts and grabbing your ass before he kneeled at your feet, shackling your legs apart just as Lord Beron promised. The guards were instructed to not penetrate you but that didn’t stop them from standing around your cell to gawk and fist their needy cocks to the sight of your spread pussy. 

~~~~~~~~~

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief as he entered his room. A welcoming comfort no one could grant him, except perhaps you. 

He neared his four poster bed, large enough for his wings and a lover or two. Just as he was about to throw himself onto its pillowy top a sweet scent engulfed him. Too sweet for his liking and definitely not your scent.  As he looked to the illuminated light escaping the bottom of the  bathing room; Elain emerged from a cloud of steam, casting her in a hazy glow. Azriels eyes trailed the length of her nude body, drops of water tracking down her thin legs.

Azriel couldn't deny what a beautiful female she was, both inside and out. He was lucky to have been with her no matter how short their fling was about to be. What Elain assumed was lust in Azriels eyes was actually reflection. Seeing her bare before him reminded him of what she offered time and time again. Her physical body. He knew that's not all she had to offer, deep down she had goals to be met and hobbies that he didn't understand, but physical intimacy is what she offered to him.

Azriel couldn't believe he had gotten to the point where sex was no longer enough. He wanted more. He wanted it all. He wanted that body, mind and spirit love. A soul connection so deep not even death would be able to pry his heart away. He felt it in his bones that that connection was not with Elain, so he’d decided now was as good a time as any, to let her go. 

Without another glance Azriel walked to his closet, which held an assortment of her clothes. He pulled out her favorite pink robe, and draped it over her shoulders. Elain took the hint and tied the robe around her body at the waist, covering her completely. The act alone brought her to tears as his rejection flooded her with shame and embarrassment. 

“Who is she?” Elain muttered, crossing her arms over her stomach in an attempt to hold herself together. Azriel shook his head, a soft sigh leaving his lips. 

“Did you sleep with her?” 

“No. I wouldn't do that to her - to you,” he shook his head, “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Do you want to sleep with her?” Elain asked with a wobble in her throat, not sure if she could handle his answer. 

Azriel turned his back on Elain and placed his hands on his hips. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he hung his head. Yes, he did want to bed you, but more than anything he wanted to hear the sound of your soft breathing as you slept nestled against his chest. He wanted to trace the beauty marks along your back and see how many constellations adorned your soft skin. 

“Azriel!” 

“Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear? He snapped.

“NO! I want to hear that you love me, not that you want to fuck someone else!” Elain sobbed, her tears freely flowing down her cheeks. “It’s her isn't it? The one you’ve been looking for all these years? The female you said I shouldn't worry about?” Elain continued to wipe away her tears. 

“I never meant to hurt you, and for that I’m sorry. If there's a chance that she’s who's destined for me then I have to explore that. You know how much I want what my brothers have, that special someone made for me!” Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his wavy hair. 

“I thought I was made for you Az?” 

A scoff leaves Azriels lips, “you were made for Lucien, he's your mate Elain, not me.” 

Elains stunned silent. The truth of his words piercing her fragile heart, “but I chose you.” 

“And I’m choosing her.” 

“Azriel, she's a Death God,” she pleads, kneeling in front of him with her hands on his knees, “she’s threatened Velaris and Rhys hates her. You met her one time as a child. You don’t know her!” she yelled, hurt laced in her words as she tried to make sense of his actions.

“I want to get to know her!” Azriel yelled back, standing abruptly from his position on the bed, making Elain stumble slightly, catching herself with her palms on the floor. 

“I’m sorry, this thing between us. It was never –”

Azriels shadows interrupt him as they swarm the room, darting erratically from side to side in alarm. Goosebumps form along his arms as they whisper in his ear, ‘In trouble, hurry.’ Azriel didn't need to ask who was in trouble. Somehow he could feel your despair in the pit of his stomach. You needed him and he would go to you. However far you were, he would walk miles to reach you, fly through the toughest storms to be by your side. Risk his own life if it meant you’d survive to see another day. Without another word he raced out of the house, leaving a broken hearted Elain to pick up the pieces of her fractured heart. He couldn’t be there for her any longer, not when his heart was calling out for you. 

A/n:  I’ve had a crazy week with my daughter being sick and planning her birthday party. I expect the next ch to take me some time. As always thank you so much for reading and for your sweet comments.  

Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit @dr4g0ngirl @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @julesofvolterra @scooobies @thisblogisaboutabook @lilah-asteria @glitterypirateduck @acourtofbatboydreams @5onedirection5

[fairydollsteps]

Do you Love me?

Synopsis: “Please take me, please. I am all yours to tame and destroy. Ruin me if you have to for your own pleasure. Shackle me under your mercy. I do not care how much I will bleed. If it means you won’t look at other men but me. Just me only, my beloved.”

“For that, I will do anything for you.“

Just Aegon Targaryen II on his knees, being absolutely pathetic, begging and lovesick for you. 

Note/ Warnings: Fluff to Angst, Age gap (reader is 4 years older than Aegon), childhood love troupe ish, Aegon’s major insecurities and his shitty childhood. Mommy issues lmao. unrequited love, Aegon sad boy hour he is depressed, he is obsessed in love for reader. reader is kinda mean, she don’t entirely love aegon like how aegon loves her. Very OOC Aegon, he is actually a sweet person if only alicent is nicer or if otto die earlier 

let’s just say aemond didn’t kill lucerys to keep this peaceful

Author’s note: hiiii i am finally alive and motivated to write again! so in this fic is just aegon suffering lmao. idk i like to see him in his absolutely worst in his already horrendous life. is just nice to see him pathetic lmao. and also too many fic of reader crying because of aegon so why not the roles switched instead? Also you are the princess of a royal family like the Hightower family/house. I made it up so you are House Glairsviw. Also everything is messy so it might suck, pls bear with me. Anyway, enjoy!

“Do you love me, Y/N?”

Aegon Targaryen II, heir to the Iron Throne, now the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms stands before you. You, in your finest gown simply stared at him in silence. Both of you are facing at each other at the castle garden, away from the booming celebration of Aegon’s coronation.Of course you know how much Aegon adores you with his whole heart. You know. You know from the beginning. The puppy love didn’t fade away as you though from childhood. 

You remember when 7-year-old Aegon would always follow you around like a puppy in Dragonstone. Your house is friendly and in good terms with House Targaryen, benefitting each houses with your house’s fortune and their power. Therefore, you and your family always visit the Targaryens and stayed there. This delighted young Aegon as he gets to be with you often.

Your impeccable beauty allures him even to this day, your kind act is what fuels his love for you. You are older than him, so you have the urges and the responsibility to care for this little kid. As you two grow up together, you will always see him as a little boy who need bandages when he scrap his knee. But to Aegon, you are an angel to his eyes.

His life is already miserable enough even at a young age, his mother berating and his father ignoring his existence. His damn grandfather, Otto Hightower is a nightmare that won’t give him a break, pressuring and reminding him he is to be the future king of Westeros. So is his mother who make sure he won’t forget. Just standing with them suffocates him. So, to meet you is a blessing in disguise.

 With you, he is able breathe freely. With you, he smiles with glee to know that someone is waiting for him with biscuits and tea after his sword training. With you, he sleeps peacefully after you read him his favorite storybook. With you, he allow himself to cry his heart out and find comfort in your arms after a hellish hours of his mother’s lambast. With you, he is able to find meaning and hope in his dejecting life. 

You also remember when he gives you a bouquet of your favorite flowers on your birthday. Chrysanthemum. Then, he declares with a boast that he want to marry you, right here and right now. He was 12 years old and you were 16 at that time. You simply giggled softly, amused at his little puppy love. 

“Marry you? Maybe when you are taller than me and strong enough to carry me, I will marry you,” you said as a joke, not taking Aegon’s proposal seriously. You kissed his forehead as a gratitude for his gift. Is a completely platonic and normal thing between you and Aegon when he did something nice and pleasing for you. But is more than ‘normal’ for Aegon.

This marriage proposal thing from Aegon is not a one time thing. Throughout your childhood and your adolescents years,  Aegon has propose to you more than you count. “I will marry Y/N if I find a pretty flower for her,” Aegon when he was 8 years old. “Will you marry me if I beat my brother in a sword match?” Aegon no. “ Y/N, can I marry you when the sun rise?” Oh Aegon, you silly.

You will always find excuses and divert his proposal playfully. Saying no will break his poor heart. This is just a temporary fantasies of his and a puppy love that will surely dissolve when he is older, right?

Right?

Oh dear, if only you know how wrong you are. Aegon is utterly consumed with desire for you. And you know it. You know he loves you but you don’t know how long he will. And he still loves you in his adulthood.  The sight befall you further verify your certainty. Aegon, regal with his kingly attire except without his crown and robes, under the moonlight, holding a single pink chrysanthemum. He still remembers after all these years.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

You want to let out a laugh but stay composed. If only he knew, then maybe his poor heart won’t be broken again.

“Really Aegon? Is that what you have to say after all these years?” you said heartily. You drop all your formalities to the king. You know he wouldn't care. Aegon frowns, knowing your tricks. Yet, he still holds a soft and longing gaze at you. 

Yes, you have have not seen each other for 6 years. You simply stop seeing Aegon for 6 years. Your house still visit the House Targaryen but is rarely. But you were nowhere at sight when your family arrived. 

“I just got busy, Aegon. Very busy. The duty of the head of my house at a young age is no easy task ever since my father is gravely sick. I hope you understand,” you said after looking at his face of whys, ignoring his previous propose. 

“My deepest condolences,” he said apologetically, gently rubbing the stem of the chrysanthemum “ Thank you. My house is doing well under my command,”

There’s a beat of  awkward silence. After 6 years, so many things have changed. You are the mighty head of your house. Aegon finally king to the Iron Throne. “You promised me that we will send each other letters before you left,” Aegon said, breaking the silence. “We did,” 

“Only for a few months. Your letters become lesser and lesser as days passed. I know that you are busy but is like you vanish and just-,” Aegon clenched his jaws before he finish. Not wanting to accept what he thought it is.

“-is like you just left and abandoned me in the dark,”

The silence returns in the garden and the two silhouettes standing before each other under tension. Every second of stillness kills Aegon. Say something Y/n. Reassure him and his doubts just like you did when you were young. Hug him like in the past. Y/N please. Aegon silently beg.

But you just stand there, blank-faced and keeping the distance between yourself and Aegon. You didn’t come to him or softly smile at him like before. You just stood where you are and watch Aegon slowly descend to his doubts. “Y/N, you couldn’t-I mean, Why? Why did you stop? I know you are busy but 6 years without a single letter? Not even once?” he asks desperately. 

“I just don’t find the need for you,” you said without a hesitant. “I no longer find you as my top priority, so I just stop,” Aegon stares at you wide-eyed. There’s no point lying to him. He should know already but is in denial. He is still clinging on the past and expecting the oh so sweet Y/N to return to the past. 

Aegon looks like he can’t stop spiraling like mad but quickly compose himself with a solution. “If is like that then, we can reconnect our connection like before with our fathers. Then, we can meet up meet up and-,” “That won’t do, Aegon,” you cut him off cruelly. Now he is trying to rebuild everything with some political bullshits. You should be sent to the guillotine for cutting the king but he lets you.

“Aegon, you have other more and capable houses and I have my own other houses that will help and benefits me. I do no need your help,” you said, cold-heartly. You don’t even put to the effort to  Oh Aegon, you are still a fool even as an adult.

What you just say slowly made a tear of his heart. What you just implied is that you don’t need him, or if you even want him. Aegon is desperate. The more you reject him, the more desperate and hurt he is. Aegon can’t accept it. He can’t lose you. You are the only good thing in his life. And his only good thing is turning its back on him. 

Do you really-? Are you really going to just-? Like this? Y/N please no. Don’t. Don’t do this to me. Aegon beg through his troubled, sorrowed eyes as he walk towards you hastily.

He grabs your hand with his unoccupied hand, urgently but weakly, forcing you too look at him in the eyes. There is so many unspoken words through his eyes. You could see his stress, his denial and his passionate love for you. All his love for you that is meant to be crushed by you. 

Aegon silently pray to find at least a single look of adoration meant for him from you. He pray to know that you are just denying and hesitant to love him. A hope that what you just say is just a lie. But he find nothing. Just nothing. There is no love and the look of adoration. You just look at him uncaring. Like he is a nobody.

You are no longer the girl he knew from the past. The girl he knew always smile at him warmly and treat with affections he never have. 

“Do you love me?” Aegon asks. A question that you always dodge and pissing Aegon off. You could feel his eyes on you, begging to answer it and stop treating him like some kind of toy. You could feel his breath touching your cheeks softly. His lips quivering from the tension and the close contact.

Aegon passed the chrysanthemum to your hand and hold it with both of hand. As if is a way to convince you to change your mind with your favorite flower. But you have already decided you decision. As it feels like eternity, you finally answer.

“No,”

.....

The silence was deafening. Aegon couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t registered what you just say. You could feel his hands on you slightly shaking.

“No?”

“I’m sorry, Aegon. I don’t love you how you love me. I’m sorry. I just feel nothing for you,” 

“Oh,”

“Oh,”

Before you could slip away from his grasp, Aegon stop you. “Aegon please-” “Why, Y/N?” “Aegon please you have to understand-,” “No please don’t do this to me Y/N. I can’t just lose you like this. Please don’t leave me,”. Now he is able to break down. His heart is crushing at every second with you. His grip on you become tight but not enough to hurt you He can’t do something to chase you away even though you are already leaving her.

Aegon is holding your hand tightly, begging you to stay with him. He can’t breathe properly with the panic and heartbreak in his chest. He could feel his eyes becoming wet but force himself to hold it. Oh fuck, he feels so damn embarrassed for being so pathetic to you but he can’t stop the hurt. Because it actually fucking hurts so bad that he feels like his heart is bleeding.

Is like the universe is against him and could do nothing about it. The universe decided to have mercy on him for having a horrible home by giving him a girl that could care and love him. And for the first time in live, he was happy. Then suddenly, the universe took her away and isolate him from her for 6 years. Then when he finally meet her, she no longer love and treat him like a ghost. 

What kind of a fucked up fate he was given?

“Aegon, please let me go,” “No, I can’t Y/N. I love you, I am utterly devoted to you please!” Aegon cried out with no shame. 

“Please take me, please. I am all yours to tame and destroy. Ruin me if you have to for your own pleasure. Shackle me under your mercy. I do not care how much I will bleed. If it means you won’t look at other men but me. Just me only, my beloved. I have never felt this devoted to any women but you. You are the only person I want to admired at and dance with at the ballroom,” 

“Aegon...”

“We could get married, I could make you Queen of the Seven Kingdoms! I could make you my queen. I will get the finest dresses and the most brilliant jewelry just for you. I will have the whole world on their knees for you if I have to. So do I,”

Aegon declares with his whole heart. Some drops of tears manage to fell. His cheek flushed and he is still holding your hand with the pink chrysanthemum. He is a mess. He knows he look stupid and ridiculous but he is fighting every chance, hoping and praying to Gods that you change your mind and choose to grow old with him.

His violet orbs continue to violent beg for your heart to own him. “Please, Y/N. I belong to you. My heart is full of you. Everything is better with you. Everything has been better since you,” 

 He should have knows better. He should be mad at himself for falling so deep that could his inevitable heartbreak. Your silence and your pity look is enough to tell but he is still trying and holding the end of the string of hope.

[starkskeep]

When the Dragon Howls (1)

When the Dragon Howls Chapter One

Characters - Cregan Stark x OC (Maera Velaryon), Aegon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen

Summary - Maera Velaryon feels consumed by the obsessive clutches of her uncles. A wolf from Winterfell could potentially be the one strong enough to confront the dragons.

Word Count - 1,071 words

Warnings - Typical Targaryen relationships

A/N - This fanfic will have the events from HotD pushed back a couple of years. I want some things to happen before the Dance of the Dragons without feeling rushed.

Previous Part Next Part

It started out simple enough. Aemond would practice extra hard. Aegon would conveniently fly Sunfyre over the Godswood of the Red Keep in a way that would reflect the sunlight off his great golden dragon’s scales. Both would gift Maera little trinkets: books about Old Valyria from Aemond and jewelry from Aegon. Those trinkets may or may not have been taken from the vaults of the Red Keep but King Viserys believed the boys to be acting with pure motives and he rather not put a stop to the one thing that was keeping the relationship between the two sides of his family from falling apart. Alicent and Rhaenyra were, quite surprisingly, willing to allow this childlike admiration of Maera from the boys to continue. It was better than the arguments that often exploded between their sons. Thus it became that Maera Velaryon was the glue holding the fragile bonds of House Targaryen together. 

Those bonds began to wear down as Maera grew into a young woman. The attention she was receiving from her uncles became less childlike and more like the actions of men attempting to take a wife. Not even the marriage of Aegon and Helaena tampered Aegon’s obsession with Maera. As his obsession grew so did Aemond’s. The combination of sibling rivalry and the attentions of a pretty girl was toxic. The announcement that Princess Maera Velaryon had reached the age of marriage fueled the obsession as if it were dragonfire. Rumors swirled around the Red Keep and King’s Landing of the actions of Aegon and Aemond. Courtesans would whisper of Aegon exclusively requesting the company of young women with hair color as close as possible to the iconic Targaryens. Moans of the princess’s name could be heard from the brothels of Flea Bottom shortly followed by the sight of a cloaked prince exiting the establishment. Aemond would simply threaten to feed the young lords who vied for Maera’s hand to Vhagar. As enticing as the thought of marrying a princess was, these lordlings much preferred to keep their lives rather than meet their demise of becoming a dragon snack. 

It was a couple moons after the announcement of Maera becoming available for marriage that Rhaenyra took her and the rest of the Velaryon/Targaryen family back to the Red Keep. It was the celebration for the anniversary of King Viserys’s reign over the Seven Kingdoms and there was no instance where the heir to the throne could miss the festivities nor could her family. So this is where the story begins, in a carriage on the way to the Red Keep from the harbor. 

Maera bounced her youngest brother Viserys on her knee as she watched the scenery of King’s Landing pass by outside of the wheelhouse. It was only Maera, Rhaenyra, and the two youngest boys stayed in the wheelhouse while Daemon and the Velaryon boys rode horses. “Maera, my sweet girl, what is troubling you? I’m your mother. I can help you if you just tell me what it is. My world is less bright without your smile.” Rhaenyra asked her daughter softly. As the only daughter of six children, Maera held a special place in Rhaenyra’s heart. Maera stopped the nervous biting of her lip, aware that this is what made her mother aware of her emotions. “I don’t know how I am going to accomplish securing a betrothal for myself. I know that this is what is expected of me and I am grateful that I am allowed to choose a husband for myself. Very few ladies are awarded the same opportunity as me. Its just that…” Maera pauses as she searches for the correct words to express how she is feeling. “Its just that I am worried that no one will want to marry me for me. My father respected you. You were happy with him. You are now happy with Daemon. I’m afraid that the man I choose to be my husband will only want me for my name and then leave me for a mistress after I birth an heir for him.” Maera looks away from the window so that she may face her mother. “Aemond has been sending me letters describing how horrible the lords after my hand act. He has warned me that they may try to conceal who they truly are so that I agree to a marriage with them. I don’t know how I will see past the image that they present to me. Being tricked into an unhappy marriage is a fate that I do not want to befall me.” Rhaenyra’s eye twitched at the mention of Aemond sending letters to Maera. She tried to keep her voice calm as she spoke. “Maera. You have time to find a suitor. No one is requiring you to marry right away. I understand how hard it is to find a husband. After all, I ran away from my tour of suitors when I was around your age. Do not rush this decision. You have Daemon and I to guide your decisions. We will not let your heart be harmed by those unworthy of you. This does, however, include Aemond. As true as you may believe his letters to be, keep in mind that he may have an ulterior motive behind his words. He is a viper, just like his grandfather. Do not trust the Hightowers in the keep.” 

With the advice of her mother swirling in her head, Maera spent the rest of the ride contemplating this new information until the wheelhouse came to a stop inside the gated courtyard of the Red Keep. As the coachman opened the door to the wheelhouse, Maera spotted Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena along with a small retinue of nobles standing in the courtyard to greet the remainder of the royal family. Rhaenyra and the children were helped out of the wheelhouse first and exchanged a tense welcome with the queen. The young princess was about to exit the wheelhouse when a hand reached out to help her. “Maera.” Daemon leaned in close to Maera as he took her hand and subtly passed her a dragon glass dagger. “If any of those green cunts try to get close to you, cut off their cocks.” After whispering those words to Maera and without allowing her to respond, Daemon escorted her to where the rest of the family had entered the Red Keep.

A/N - Thank you for reading this part. I promise that the next part will have actual interactions with Aegon and Aemond. I just felt like I needed to showcase the relationship between Maera and Rhaenyra as well as the relationship between Maera and Daemon.

[prydainroyals]

"Grandmother. Do not treat me like a child," Alice snapped. Of all the ridiculous things for her grandmother could be doing at this very moment, cooing with airy condescension, why did it have to be that?

"Then stop acting like one," Gwyn retorted airily.

"We already have two grown-up children in this household, we do not need a third."

Alice bristled. She loved Gwyn, she truly, really, really did-- she admired and respected her for her resilience in dealing with the press over past decades, had fond memories of going out with her to tea parties and public events. She still had a little stuffed cat Gwyn had given her as a gift when she was three!

But this...?

"Arthur and Father are not overgrown children," Alice snapped back, her voice raised and filled to the brim with indignation. "And neither am I. If anyone here is being childish, Gran, it's you. Shame on you for being so dismissive of them! And of me!"

Gwyn seemed to recoil at Alice's fire--

--then leaned in, opened her mouth as if to say something, but shockingly did not interrupt. Instead, she pursed her lips silently--

--and at last began to pout.

"Alice, I am only trying to look out for--" Gwyn began, her cold and haughty tone abandoned for the soft and pathetic simpering of a crocodile of a woman.

Alice was having none of it; felt the ire stir up a storm. She threw up her hands, struck them through the air as though the oxygen round them was at fault.

"--Stop!" she shouted, composure finally lost. The clear manipulation that Gwyn had reserved for others for so long, now being used on Alice, had touched a nerve and caused her to snap. Whatever patience she'd had, was now seemingly lost against a tide of righteous indignation.

"The only person you're looking out for is yourself, Gran!"

"Why I never--"

"No! Let. Me. FINISH."

Alice stood from the table and took a deep breath. She couldn't let Gwyn "win" by absolutely losing control. She refused to do that-- she was better than that, and if she let her hot temper get the better of her, she would just be playing right into whatever stupid schemes Gwyn had in mind.

Calm. Relax. It's alright. Just think of Arthur. Think of Alfonso. Think of Carmen.

Gwyn stood to face her, and Alice let out a sharp sigh.

"Asking for your support for a mere recognition of the Heir's return home should not be so complicated," Alice stated, her voice sharp, shoulders squared, her sharp, green gaze sat piercing right through Gwyn.

"I say 'support' and not 'permission' because, to be quite honest, it isn't up to you," Alice quickly, but steadily, went on. "I am doing this for more than just Arthur, who is my twin, but for our family and for our reputation."

"If you don't like that, I've nothing else to say to you, Gran."

"Now, whether or not you'll excuse me, I am leaving to attend today's business. If I hear that you've pushed Father to deny this effort, you ought to know that your sabotage of my brother will not be successful."

"You're overreacting, my dear--" Gwyn replied as Alice turned her back and marched out of the tea room.

But Gwyn's bait was resoundly ignored and she was left to stand and fume alone.

---

Alice ain't wrong--this escalated entirely too quickly.

- - -

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[weebsinstash]

Once upon a time I read an isekai/villlainess manhwa where the FL was married to an emperor and said emperor had a male concubine who acted innocent but in fact wasn't. Cannot remember the name for the life of me but like. The concept gave me an idea.

Like imagine an isekaid FL who knows what events will transpire. She's been engaged to the emperor their entire lives but he becomes infatuated with this guy and takes him in as a concubine before he and FL get married, so he's already been living in the palace long before her. In the original story, the FL was a villainess and acted out against the concubine which got her a bad ending, because the concubine, like all good villainous lovers in manhwa, is a scheming little shit.

So this time FL decides that she's just gonna try to get divorced before any of that happens. More importantly: unlike her original self, she's gonna act nice towards the concubine - cause he is the one who has the emperor's favor, not her, so by all means being in his good graces is her ticket to a peaceful life and who knows, maybe he'll even help her get that divorce down the line. No bullying, no giving into his baits to make himself look like a victim, just being polite, nice, civil. Invites him to tea so he won't be left out of social events, sends him a proper gift during his birthday, has civil conversations, compliments him, ignores him when he tries to flaunt his relationship with the emperor to make her upset.

Most importantly, FL minds her business. Lounges in her garden in peace. Does her empress job. Avoids the emperor when he seeks her out because she doesn't want to risk getting pregnant if she's trying to get that divorce later, which means they haven't had their first night yet. He's got his concubine so that's hardly an issue, right? So the emperor. He's the "I treat you very coldly and favor my concubine, but I wonder why it makes me very angry when YOU ignore ME. I need your attention and validation too >:("' type of husband. He's proud tho, so he keeps his distance except for a few tactless attempts to bed the empress. Like dude why would she bang you?? Take a hint.

BUT. BUT. Because he's a concubine from humble background and therefore doesn't have much of a social circle since he's not generally accepted by the nobles, when the empress starts being genuinely nice to him, he sticks to her like a TICK. Like if Navier was nice to Rashta, yk? So he goes from scheming little fox to actual puppy, dropping by her wing of the palace unnanounced, barging in for tea, trying to maintain conversations when she's very clearly weireded out wondering what he's up to, buying her gifts, encouraging her to stop having meals by herself and join them (he was perfectly fine having the dining room to himself and the emperor before, though?), starts getting possessive over her when literally anyone who isn't her maids interacts with her <3. It gets to a point where if he's not seen with the emperor, it's almost guaranteed he's with the empress.

FL is undoubtedly terrified. The story wasn't supposed to go like this. Why is he with her all the time? But still, trying to ignore or reject his friendliness now would be a terrible move, so she entertains him. The emperor is like, "what the fuck, since when are you so close?" and seems pretty bitter about it. So the concubine notices that despite his relationship with the emperor being great, and his relationship with the empress going great (in his eyes), things between emperor and empress are pretty shitty. Time to be a scheming fox again.

So he starts bringing up to the emperor, "Hey, it's been over a year since you married the empress and you haven't got an heir :(" to which the emperor replies "I mean. She rejects me every time I try something? What am I supposed to do?" So now the concubine is looking at the emperor, thinking, "Well, he looks upset." and then he looks at the Empress, "She isn't pampered by the emperor, she's so pitiful :'( .... I can help with that >:]".

So one night FL notices feel things are off. The bath she took was?? fancier than usual?? roses, tangerines, oils for her skin and hair?? The nightgown arranged for what was supposed to be her wedding night?? They're dolling her up to go to sleep? What?? The hell she needs perfume for?? Then the butler knocks on her door saying the concubine is inviting her to his room because he's lonely and he could use some company. FL is extremely wary of concubine, so she thinks refusing means he'll complain to the emperor how she's being mean to him so she obliges and goes there - there's guards on his doors and everything, and the doors are locked as soon as she's in.

But turns out, the concubine already has company, considering that the emperor is right there and they're fucking. FL is shook. She thinks it's another attempt to embarrass/humiliate her so she immediately is like "Oh! Sorry! Didn't mean to barge in (except you literally called me here)!! I'll be leaving you two alone and taking my leave!!! Have fun!!!!!" but the concubine immediately stops her. He's like "Oh don't leave. Come on. Why don't you come closer? I'm trying to help you uwu. See? I already got him all worked up for you! :D Right, love?" and the emperor is basically. Just about to have a heart attack. Cause tbh he's been looking forward to this since the concubine proposed the idea to him. And FL is glued to the spot like what the fuck is going on, they can't be seriously inviting me to a threesome, but yeah they are. Concubine has to get up and urge her to come to the bed, dismissing all her protests and refusal as shyness, and as soon as they got her on the bed they prep her to take the emperor. When it's FL's turn to take the emperor the concubine is right by her side holding her hand and giving her little kisses, scolding the emperor like "Be more gentle!! She's not used to it like I am, give her some time to adjust. No! Not that fast! Slow down, you're gonna hurt her, you brute!". Meanwhile he's praising FL while the Emperor is having the absolute time of his life above her. Concubine is proud of himself cause in his mind he's helping his two loves get along. Now he can say he's treasured by both emperor AND empress. What more could he ask for, honestly.

And then they live happily ever after <3 except FL who is clearly not gonna get that divorce <3

For one can I just say that I think removing limits on text in asks was like one of the best modern changes to tumblr 😩❤ i just come into my inbox and get MEALS, I am FED

I'm gonna be scrolling back and forth to kind of go down this idea in succession of events:

I feel like I would always be doomed as a transmigrated FL because I just. Am a very bad liar. And I'm also not really nearly quite as clever and cunning as a lot of these women are. I think I would definitely basically be immediately acting suspicious because, uh, good for you Mr Emperor dude for being engaged to your fiance since childhood or something but this is my body now and I don't know you and also I personally think you were rude as fuck to her so. Bye lmao! I just do not think I have the cleverness to try and emulate whomever my predecessor was nor fake affection for the people in her life

As a side note I kinda lowkey wish there were more stories where more people suspect the FL of being an entirely different person instead of just assuming she's acting weird. There have only been so many stories that do this and the only one I can immediately name is the LN/manga/anime Ascendance of a Bookworm where one of the MC's neighborhood friends realizes that Myne is way too mature to be the same person although she is also uh placed into a child's body which doesn't help (which the series is actually really good imo, a girl obsessed with books gets reincarnated into a world where books are an expensive luxury for nobles and she begins taking her modern world knowledge to the people, like making shampoo, eventually learning how to make cheap paper and make her own books herself)

Reader just over here like "since it is (concubine) who is in his majesty's heart, I wish you both the best :)" because she straight up does not give a fuck, thank god PLEASE go after this concubine, it's not like YOU want the Emperor, you don't even know the guy, nor do you even want to be here. Like forreal the restrictions of being nobility? There's literally a manhwa called The Evil Woman has Fun Again Today where the FL is a Korean woman transmigrated after reading a novel and she realizes she would literally be more powerful and have more freedom as the head of her wealthy family over being EMPRESS, and guess what SHE'S TOTALLY RIGHT. As Empress Reader would simultaneously be privileged but have SO many restrictions, having to maintain etiquette, having to have servants do many things she could just do herself, being unable to speak to them in certain ways

Idk when I heard male concubine I instantly started thinking of, a twink, but imagine if, Emperor himself is like a tall brick shithouse of a dude like on that idk 6'5 bullshit and then the concubine is like. Also an athletic build and also very hunky and cute and is like 6ft, he's like a swimmers body, like athletic but not overly muscular knwim? Hes muscular in like a palatable boyband kind of way does that make sense? Idk about you guys but I'm 5'6 so idk between the both of them that sounds like enough height for me 😳

Or. Idk. You know what, on a totally different angle than the previous idea, I also have a weakness for like. Men who are absolutely cunts. You know what I mean? It's the energy? Like. Immediate first two examples just instantly appearing in my head are these bitches

Male concubine who is just A MEAN VICIOUS SLUT TO EVERYONE but to you it's "your majesty 😊❤ are you going for a walk in the garden? owo let's go look at the flowers together 🥰" and you won't even know if he's being platonic or romantic with how affectionate he is all the time because BITCH YOU'RE SLEEPING WITH MY KIND-OF HUSBAND? Also like god you just know this palace would be filled with so much fucking gossip about the supposed love triangle and you're just left not actually liking either one of them 😩 i also imagine the concubine would pull certain strings to destroy any threats against his beloved Empress and Emperor including maybe violently punishing some mouthy servants who dare spread slander or maybe even do so little as displease his in the way they tend on the esteemed lady of the palace

(Also i actually just had a mini stroke remembering I did write something for Izaya YEEEEEEARS ago but that was literally in my ffn days and those no longer exist bc apparently the site was scrubbed or something at some point? Also I was a minor or something so it was cringe and bad. Maybe I'll come back for this bitch someday. Oh no the gears are already turning 💀 suddenly thinking of some absolutely toxic but "affectionate" yandere bullying blackmail shit right now 💀💀💀💀💀)

For The Drama I often think of Reader/FLs who love plants and grow them or have some sort of ability to grow them and they have a beautiful garden and they have personal knowledge of all the plants and some of them are :) birth control :) and she makes dishes with them and is just constantly on the pill except for Shark Week and, oh it would be so improper for the Emperor to visit for those nights then wouldn't it? It's not quite decorum nor up to his mor "opulent clean regal noble whatever" image he is expected to uphold

But for Drama Plus Premium Membership i think of the Emperor eventually finding out and having her entire garden destroyed and remodeled into like, a rose garden or a garden filled with whatever native cultural flower is symbolic of the monarchy/dynasty/the Emperor whatever. Reader's garden before is filled with all sorts of colors and plants and even "weeds" but those too can flower and have a purpose and be beautiful and now it's. A sterile fucking blur of the same flower over and over with arrangements you didn't pick with decorations you didn't pick and it's IN YOUR SPACE AND HE RUINED SOMETHING THAT WAS YOURS. Is the intent to tell you you're just like any other woman he has, that you cannot stand out, that you're just another faceless flower? Is it to say that you are always of the palace, his woman, and will never be anything else? Is it a clear threat or scolding for how you dared to deny him children when you are man and wife? The only message that is clear is that this is "his gift" to you and decorum dictates you happily accept. Which you don't. You break down sobbing immediately when you see it. You just begin staying inside your palace all day, refusing to leave the building, refusing to go anywhere at all besides your room, where you demand to be left alone. (Although I'm thinking of this in terms where the Empress while potentially holding many responsibilities also has like an army of her own secretaries and aides just as the emperor has his generals and court ministers and dukes and lower lords and such and should she not be up to task there are other people qualified to take over)

But anyways back to this other lil thing of "oh wow my husband/fiance the emperor is bi actually", male concubine developing an obsession with the Emperor and Reader having a baby because it's like a creation of life from the two people he's absolutely crazy about, bringing it up to Reader and taking her clear anxiety and reluctance as just being nervous and shy and going back to the Emperor and giving little whisperings in his ear of "oh, wouldn't the Empress look pretty with a little baby belly?"

In the nicest way possible I don't think I'd uh ever let a man stick it in me after he was just inside a dude purely for hygienic reasons, like uh thats kinda lowkey gross for me, I don't want someone else's inside juices (another bottom anyways) inside me male or female kwim 💀 so male concubine better be throwing some neck when Reader walks in or she's immediately turning right back around (not that she can leave lmao)

I also often think of like, things being slipped into incense or Reader's food that is intended to lightly drug her and make her more compliant/submissive/horny so I imagine maybe even some of the things slipped into her bath or the candles in the Emperor's chambers because like idk I guess it depends on whatever story you are attaching to Reader but I imagine she would be extremely visibly reluctant if not crying outright, and im sure there's male concubine to assuage the Emperor's fears because "oh she's just being a little shy, not isn't unusual for such a noble maiden right? :)" and the Emperor is kind of just lowkey "well you spend more time with her than I do so surely you know what you're talking about"

After the fact Reader is just sitting there being caressed and cuddled by the two men and she's just thinking "maybe I should have just started acting crazy to get kicked out before all this happens". Imagine if she killed herself or died during childbirth and she regresses and had to do it all over AGAIN. Imagine if male concubine and the Emperor also remember shit like she can after the regression, or if they can't remember their previous timeline exactly a lot of the feelings and emotions carry over, idk like some Madoka Magica shit

Honestly uh. I have slowly been accumulating ideas for a hypothetical Reader/Emperor story of my own if we're gonna be sharing ideas haha 👉👈 :

The Emperor before he becomes one is just one son out of like over a dozen, he is talented but not overly so in a way that he would stand out and draw the ire of his brothers competing for the throne. His mother is also not especially highly ranked in terms of her family and palace position (because if you think of it in like Chinese Imperial concubine terms they literally had rankings like a tier list of authority among the Emperor's lovers), if she is even still alive at all. Reader is a foreigner from an unknown land who is an orphan and was abandoned very young and then adopted by one of the older servants of the palace, being raised in the palace as a maid and potential future lady in waiting because her mother although just a servant is maybe like the head of her division and is very dependable and has a good reputation, maybe she's the head of embroidery or the kitchen or something like that

Because Reader is in a low position, and the future Emperor is not in the spotlight, they're both in a sort of position where they are feeling confined by living in this palace, stifled, alone, kind of resentful of where they are and who they're constantly surrounded by, always having to talk and act a certain way, never being able to just talk to someone and just DO anything without someone climbing up their ass about decorum. Maybe there is a banquet last night and Reader is taking a brief break on a balcony or in a garden somewhere and suddenly this random man who's face is not known to her begins talking to her and they start having this emotional conversation where she is kind of talking at him and he is listening very carefully but quietly and then like after they've been chatting for like 20, 30 minutes suddenly an attendant is appearing around the corner, "oh, 13th Prince, we've been looking all over for you" nd it's like SHIT YOU WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT BEING MISERABLE TO A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL FAMILY? But the Prince does not seem angry in the slightest and simply gives you a nod of acknowledgement as he's turning to leave with a "perhaps we can speak again soon"

At one point, you had made this sort of. Sadly sarcastic comment to him about "it seems like not even the Emperor can fully choose his own path or what he wishes for, but it seems that he at least has more choice than people like us"

Cue said Prince progressively becoming more well known in the palace? Whispers and rumors are everywhere? "The 13th Prince created a new tax system that helps repurpose money towards the growing of crops and helped the famine in the southwest region!" "Did you hear? The 13th Prince took up his own sword to squash that rebellion that broke out in the capital!" "There were a group of maids amd butlers caught rifling through the palaces and selling off smaller items that could be easily missed and the 13th Prince caught their leader in the act and had him executed and the rest sentenced to hard labor!"

I imagine at some point there's a war. A really awful bloody war with a neighboring country. Maybe it's caused by a massive famine, crops are not growing, the clouds are thin and rain refuses to fall. People are hungry. People are desperate. The 13th Prince volunteers to fight himself, and Reader feels a pain in her heart as she hears he is going to be deployed. Weren't they something akin to friends? Its not unusual to be worried for the safety of someone you care for. I imagine Reader literally runs to the edge of the palace grounds where him and his troop are leaving on horseback or whatever fantasy ass creature they're using for mounts and. She's not sure what to do or what is appropriate but, he looks around and they make eye contact, not being able to say a word to each other, but simply seeing each other, giving little node of acknowledgement to each other.

It's hard to tell from this distance but, he almost swears that you're crying as you simply raise a shaking hand to wave at him, as if to say, "good luck, take care"

And he leaves, and there's an emptiness in your heart you can't describe. And he's gone like that for, let's say, 2 years. Two straight years of you only being able to hear whispers and rumors because, you're just a servant, why should YOU be informed of the Prince's whereabouts or conditions, go do laundry bitch. Meanwhile, the current sitting Emperor is occasionally receiving updates on the war, the status of his multiple sons that have taken up arms, one of them in particular who is standing out with exceptional results, one in particular who at some point sends him a letter through a courier asking about a specific servant, by name, repeatedly. So now the Emperor is curious: who has caught the eye of his typically extremely emotionally constipated, socially withdrawn, will-only-speak-what-details-are-necessary-and-nothing-more son? Is this person somehow related to his son's sudden motivation to excel in every field? The Emperor is quite curious

At this point I'd like to say that I often think of stories with magic systems and I imagine that this country where this takes place has its own religion and cultural customs and I just. I just love the idea of there being a position of a Saintess where there is a destined woman who is supposed to be extremely gifted in magic and symbolic of being a savior of their people. Like it's a position that is supposed to be filled constantly but at some point whatever magical ritual, premonition that the priests and priestesses have that tells them a new Saintess has been chosen by the Gods has just... stopped happening, and in the present there has not been a Saintess for at least a century. I love the idea of the Saintess being able to do something that either most magic users are not good at or something that magic users typically cannot do at all, such as healing or controlling plants or the weather or all three.

so of course the Reader awakens as the Saintess at some point but we will get it that in a bit

So Reader only hears rumors and Whispers for like 2 years and is never sure exactly if the Prince is alive or dead besides whenever she hears rumors that. are not particularly flattering. Some of these word of mouth tales tell of the Prince stopping this war by any means possible, how he conquers regions, killing the leaders but also their families and children so that none may be swayed to take revenge. Just tale after tale after tale of the Prince you know achieving victory and leaving nothing but blood behind. And you tell yourself it's a war and you do not know the circumstances or if the rumors are even true but, you hold on to faith that he does what he does because it was needed. You... trust him to be doing the right thing

The day comes when you hear that the war has ended. The 13th Prince with his own troops, strategies, leadership, and even putting his own body in harm's way, had destroyed the enemy army piece by piece and cut off the head of the highest ranking General, maybe even slaughtering the entire royal family/monarchy of this enemy nation to completely destroy them and punish them for inciting this rebellion, maybe this is a double victory in not only winning the war but winning it through such force that, guess what, they just annex that country and take all the land for the Empire. The 13th Prince is a war hero

But. I imagine when he returns, people are, justifiably wary of him, nervous, if not outright scared. You rush to the gates to see if you can catch sight of him, and you see another reason why: he had gotten a scar on his face, something prominent, something serious, that made certain palace servants swoon over him before now fearful and even outright repulsed by him. He doesn't see you as he continues along the stone path with his army on their horses, but now you know. He's safe. He's home.

I imagine that even as you desperately want to, you cannot really seek him out to speak to him. Your relationship was always sort of casual friends, if even that, and what reason would a lowly servant like you have to seek out the Prince? Your heart aches but you're soothed knowing he is alright. But then you start hearing so much fucking gossip. So many chattering mouths speak of him like he's some sort of monster, some freak, some heartless killer, and you can't stand it, just absolutely cannot stand it. The day comes when you're waiting on one of the Emperor's more lower-ranking concubines, helping clean and tidy up while she hosts a little tea party with other noble ladies, and you just start hearing the most awful fucking absolute BULLSHIT

"So... the 13th Prince has finally returned from the war."

"Yes, with quite the nasty scar, hasn't he?"

"What a shame. He's so lowly-ranked in line of succession that no noble woman will want a man like that."

"His mother was also quite... humbled in looks and position, wasn't she? A scarred man for a husband and a matron as a mother-in-law? I simply couldn't imagine it."

"Certainly not after he has stained his hands so heavily with blood."

"A scar befitting of a mindless beast."

You absolutely fucking lose it. Whatever is in your hands is smashed to the floor as you just cannot close your mouth the second the first word leaves it. You are RANTING AND RAVING

"How dare you? How DARE you?! He has spent the last TWO YEARS fighting for this country and everyone in it while YOU have done nothing but sit in this palace wanting for nothing for even a single moment! Anything and everything you want is obtainable for you while the commoners? Have had to join the army just so that they can defend their homes! Even our enemies are attacking us because their own people are starving! Do you have any idea how many families have died?! Do you have any idea how many soldiers this palace has lost, how many of your servants have lost their fathers and brothers, how many of those in this palace had their hearts broken every single day for two years because there was nothing but DEATH? Yes, yes the 13th Prince certainly DOES have a scar, a scar he earned in battle from taking up the sword to protect YOU, and he can still can accomplish anything he can conceive and put his mind to, unlike YOU, whereas if your face were to ever become as damaged, would be immediately discarded from the harem as vapid self-centered heartless vultures posing as women who don't even know how to do the most basic things for themselves!!!!"

Yeah, you're definitely getting punished for this. The angry women demand the guards to seize you, to have you slapped, flogged, whipped, beaten, they're all so hysterically offended, when a voice breaks through the chaos, strong and firm

It's the Emperor himself, with none other than the 13th Prince at his side. The humiliation and shame you feel. You had acted out of turn in front of the both of them to someone of much higher station than you. Were you to be executed for this? A punishment of some sort is guaranteed; the only matter now was how painful and how fatal it would be.

But no. The Emperor demands the guards to let go of you at once. He is angry, his son becomimg extremely tense when the pair of them had approached to see your cheeks swollen from the few slaps the guards had gotten in before they made their presences known. The Emperor had already heard everything, unbeknownst to them, but, he turns to regard the noble women and and them: what happened?

And they lie. They lie right to his face, right to the Emperor himself, right to the man who has treated them with nothing but affection and luxury, the man who allowed them to be in this palace in the first place. The proverbial graves are being dug so deep, the Emperor can only put up with so many falsehoods before he raises a hand to signal their silence. And the Emperor finally speaks

HE AGREES WITH YOU 500%. who the FUCK do these ladies think THEY ARE to, not only disrespect his son A PRINCE, but disrespect the mother of his son who was also another concubine of the Emperor who while relatively low ranking STILL held a higher position than some of the women at this table, disrespect his efforts that won their country the war, AND TO LIE TO HIS FACE? Punishment is swift. It can't be anything too cruel as most of them are vaguely political marriages and cannot be too harshly punished lest it cause certain scandals. They're all demoted to the lowest position in the harem and confined to their personal palaces on house arrest, never to receive guests or so much as go out into the imperial garden, for a currently undetermined, perhaps permanent amount of time

The Emperor orders you to be seen by a doctor for some medicine for your stinging face, and gives you a few words. You're either bold or easily swayed by a righteous heart. Not many in this palace would have the nerve to speak to someone of a higher status in the way that you did. Although it was improper, you were correct. You are honorable. You have his thanks for defending the honor and image of his son.

The Emperor, while having had a certain eye on you for a while now upon... particular requests, is coming to see why his son holds affection for you.

At this point, I imagine the Reader is kind of in danger in the sense that she has massively angered this group of harem women and as a servant she has no protection. Until of course the Emperor gets an urgently delivered letter from the High Church that the Head Priest and his sect need to urgent visit the palace because they've been having repeating dreams and visions nay prophecies that a new Saintess is finally going to awaken extremely soon. And we all know who it is 😏

I 🤦‍♀️ have kind of written a lot here haven't I 😳 and there's kind of more fifbfjfjfn BUT IF YOU'VE MADE IT THIS FAR YOURE PROBABLY AT LEAST A LITTLE HOOKED RIGHT? 👉👈🥺 so we finishin this

I have like several ideas for how Reader would awaken her powers, ranging from "the dreams the high church members had explicitly showed your face so they do a ritual" to "the church members only know it is a woman in the palace and order every single person including servants to be rounded up and the evil women try to pull strings and keep you locked up just out of spite so you cannot make the event, not that a stupid foreigner pathetic mad like you could be the Saintess obviously :), and it backfires in their face supremely when other servant friends you've made help release you and you're literally the last person to show up to the event, like they were literally about to just give up and leave, and whatever the pristes are using to test for holy magic power reacts when you barely even show up let alone TOUCH IT"

Like can you imagine the. Emotional release and thematic elements of Reader being treated like shit and completely disregarded her entire life despite her kindness and empathy no matter her actions and as the priests are approaching her there are all these nobles and high ranked women who are just outraged a lowly servant like you would even think you have a right to take the test and you touch idk the magic fucking orb thing or holy staff and it just begins to rain. The Saintess is here, she's you, all your suffering wasn't for nothing, you're finally being acknowledged, you're finally going to be given a position where you have power and freedom and respect. You're basically untouchable now.

I like to think as a bonus the women who have been trying to directly cause you harm since you got them all punished before, maybe they even tried to not only kidnap you but kill you from attending the search, are just straight up executed for treason at this point because even if you weren't the Saintess they directly interfered with an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT basically a national emergency??? And this was like strike 2 for already being disrespectful bitches too? Sent back to their families in boxes, not even buried on the palace grounds, sent home in SHAME, families honors permanantly tarnished. You have the ultimate victory.

But anyways 👀 I sometimes play around with order of events for when Reader awakens. Like, the Emperor is starting to suddenly decline in health and the conversation must be had about who is next in line to rule. He has many sons but not quite all are equal in terms of temperament and talent and intelligence. There is also the matter of who will be the most diplomatic and best handle the increasing threat of further wars and famines.

Before the Emperor has already made such an announcement, multiple of his sons are suddenly, conveniently uncovered to be in multiple scandals, certain sources (potentially under a certain Prince's orders) suddenly coming forth with years of evidence. There's money embezzling, human trafficking of commoners to become slaves, the filling of certain lower courts and positions to favor particular nobles and politicians specifically. More than half of the candidates are disqualified.

The 13fh Prince would surely be an excellent candidate, however as a child there were several doctors (potentially paid off?) that suspected him of being impotent. An Emperor must be able to leave a lineage. An unfortunate disqualification

I imagine at this point this is where like, Reader and the Prince have some totally shoujo manga level romantic moment like coincidentally bumping into each other when they both took a walk on a peaceful moonlit night to clear their heads 😳 and everything with all the emotions and tension and urges just kind of. Bursts out and y'all get totally down and fuck nasty even if you're not supposed to, even if it's ~forbidden~, and of course some month or so later where there's still all this debate over who becomes Crown Prince, suddenly you're fainting in the middle of the day during work, word gets around you've fallen ill, even reaching the Emperor. He knows his son will be concerned and sends one of his own doctors to check your health. You're still unconscious while the medical staff run their tests, and the 13th Prince had even completed his current task in record time to rush and see you. He's walking in when there's a sudden buzz of conversation

You're pregnant. Palace maids are maliciously whispering with judgment. You're an unmarried woman, and a servant. How shameful to fall pregnant in your destitute state. You must be sleeping around the entirety of the palace-- except no in barges the Prince saying with his full chest "no, that child is mine." and shuts them all up immediately as he just starts asking the doctor all sorts of questions about your condition

There's so much drama now because, if this is true, the 13 Prince has a legitimate chance at the throne. He has brothers against this, the women of his brothers against this, certain concubines of the current emperor against this, all these people mostly objecting out of it hurting their own personal gain. How can they stack courts and raise their own social statuses and get glory and gifts if the Emperor becomes someone who until the last few years they've all kind of treated like shit? Rumors are started that you're a liar, that it's another man's baby, that the father is one of your male friends, perhaps a guardsmen you've been friendly and respectful to, perhaps even accused of being such a slut you don't know who the father is

But then the tests are ran whether they be magic or physical and sure enough, you are pregnant with the 13th Prince's child. And the Emperor hears this and basically says "ok I guess that settles that", makes a royal decree declaring the 13th Prince his successor, and FUCKING DIES

I have so many splitting paths of ideas tbh 🤦‍♀️ I've thought of the Emperor marrying Reader off to his son as a concubine even against her wishes because his son has never shown affection for anyone before but also because the Emperor lowkey wants Reader as a daughter in law 🥺 I've thought of reader awakening as a Saintess after she's married and finding out as Saintess she is so important she can basically do whatever she wants and invokes certain laws to get a divorce. I've thought of the Prince now Emperor kind of always treating her distantly and coldly in the "im kind of a dick to protect you and also im not used to loving someone" kind of way but the second she starts pulling back from him he is CLINGY but whoops maybe its too late. It becomes extremely obviously that even if he can be a shit awful communicator in terms of his personal feelings and desires that he isnt planning to let you go, like would kill for it. Who do you think he kept in his thoughts to keep him going throughout the war? If invaders are threatening his homeland and your safety then obviously the course of action was to fight and kill them all himself wasn't it? And he did.

Yeah I have a lot of thoughts and spent a long time writing all this whoops 💀💀💀 ik a lil embarrassed lol 💀💀💀 Merry Christmas i guess 😳 oh my god scrolling back up and then down again I think this ask is literally bigger than some of the fics I've written chfjfjfjfhfhdjfjdjdjfn

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews Darklord Adam

Domain: Lamordia Formation: 575 BC (the actual date various in different sources, but I was there to witness its formation, so take this date to be the most accurate) Power Level: 💀💀💀⚫⚫ Sources: Ravenloft Gazetteer Vol 2 (3e); Domains of Dread (2e); I, Strahd the War Against Azalin (Novel).

Based on rumors, Lamordia went through significant changes in its latest rendition, but this week I shall review it as it once was and tell the tale of Darklord Adam and the constant harsh weather that plagues “his” domain. The settlements of this land are constantly assaulted by deadly blizzards and frigid air coming from the Sea of Sorrows in the winter and infestation of insects and insufferable heat in the summer. I do not recommend visiting, especially given how adverse the entire populace is to magic. I am positive my late father would thoroughly enjoy it, however.

Everything about Lamordia is based upon structure and scientific reasoning set within a utilitarian society. The people have a scientific explanation for everything despite the obvious supernatural phenomena that occurs all around them. They are adverse to any type of magic - whether it be the far more superior arcane arts or the divine. This disbelief is so tightly held that the land itself is known to suppress those that attempt any form of casting. Though, I have it on first hand accounts that this effect does not always occur.

It is highly dangerous for those who deny the existence in the arcane to essentially practice it. I’m surprised Lamorida hasn’t imploded in on itself yet, for Dr. Victor Mordenheim’s science clearly surpasses the realm of the supernatural. Given the nature of the domain, you would think Mordenheim would be its Darklord, but he is not. His creation, a flesh golem of rare independence, is the true Darklord of Lamordia.

Let’s dive in a bit to the tale of these two idiots. When Mordenheim and his wife, Elise, were unable to conceive a child, he devoted himself to the study of life and death; above all, other ways in which life could be created. I can...understand that inclination. It is important one has an heir to carry out one's legacy and rule. Of course, he went about it like a blind fool with no sense of the magics he was tapping into for he denied their very existence.

Adam was the result of 13 years of labor which he spent away from Elise. Moredenheim created Adam to appear as a perfect physical specimen. And upon first blush, I suppose one could say that is true. He is muscular yet lean with long black hair and I am told that sort of thing is appealing to some. However, close up he is a mockery of beauty like a horrible painting gifted to a King by a so-called artist.

Made up of pulsating arteries and tendons seen just beneath the thin bits of grey flesh, Adam is disgusted by his own appearance. Interestingly, when my little scholar interviewed Adam he told her that Mordenheim made him but another source provided him with his “soul”. So, it seems that Mordenheim’s science only brought him so far and it was likely the powers he denied that truly brought life into Adam.

Elise was unsettled by Adam’s appearance and despite her discomfort her husband decided to adopt a girl to act as a playmate for Adam. That seems like a very bad parenting decision and coming from me...well, that says something, doesn’t it?

Adam became obsessed with Elise and wanted nothing more than her acceptance and approval. Accounts of what transpired on the night Lamordia appeared on the border of Barovia differs between Adam and his maker. They both blame the other, but in the end whether Adam was a murderous villain or a victim attempting to gain acceptance, his adopted sister fell to her death after an encounter with him and Elise was mutilated.

Death would have been kinder for Elise, but Mordenheim keeps her alive through “scientific” means. Her heart beats through the working of machinery alone and he constantly switches her limbs and skin out in attempts to receive her, but only accomplishes keeping her in constant pain. If the foolish man believed in Divine or even the Arcane and not dismissed those practitioners of both, he could have healed her condition. I myself have been known to use such magics to prolong my own life when I was a mortal man.

Mordenheim’s monstrous creations roam Lamordia, but despite the obvious arcane nature of these creations, the people and the Doctor himself still dismiss the arcane. They will not accept it, just as they will not accept Adam. And this is the curse the Dark Powers bestowed upon Adam, to never find the acceptance he so hopelessly craves. To live alone on an island, over-dramatically named “The Isle of Agony” as he plots against his creator. When my little scholar interviewed Adam he said that Lamordia was Mordenheim’s even though it shouldn’t be and that they were “all his children”.

Adam is tied to Mordenheim and devotes his existence to making the Doctor’s life as miserable as possible, like the overgrown rebellious teenager that he is. Though, this is quite easy seeing as the Dark Powers bond the two together so that Adam experiences Mordenheim’s physical pain and the doctor experiences his creation’s angsty teenage ways.

As flesh golems go, Adam is one of a kind with many immunities to mundane weapons and certain magical energies. Still, without any arcane mastery of his own, a skilled wizard could make quick work of him. Though his curse is interesting, it makes his tie and rule over his own realm obsolete. As such, I will give Adam 3 skulls for this review and Mordenheim does not even get a skull. I despise those that practice the art without respecting it and those who do so without realizing it? Utter fools.

[sapporo-division]

As soon as the rumored ‘Ice King’ of Sapporo was returning from his trip to England, he was now greeting with the weirdly light atmosphere at his workplace instead of the tense one he used to receive back before he went to visit his family overseas.

What just happened to my company when I’m not around? 

—That was the thought that the oldest heir of Kuraokami had in his head when he finally reached his usual spot in his room.

Not much later, he was then informed by his assistant that there was some mysterious package sent to the company with his name addressed on it. The assistant told him that at first it was normally destined to be rejected but because of a certain someone who vouched for the sender wasn’t really just someone to overlook

—That’s why the thing ended up in front of him right now.

Confirmed by his assistant that it was neither some prank nor kind of harm to him, the oldest heir of Kuraokami then cautiously opened it up as he didn’t know what’s inside of this colorful box submitted by the anonymous.

And what he just found inside the overly colorful box was…

A gorgeous wool scarf in the shape of a red dragon!

There was also a cute note in pink color put inside the box;

“To Yuki Kuraokami-san of Sapporo

Hello, greetings, and merry Christmas! The weather has turned kinda cold lately and some warm scarf would be the great choice to give during this winter, wouldn’t it? 

Hehe~ I knitted this with the inspiration from the Red Dragon of Wales in mind, hoping that the great King Arthur would enjoy the company of this little guy during the harsh time of infinite coldness.

Have a wonderful holiday!

—Your Secret Santa from Nara Division

P.S. Gotta apologize for some kind of my arbitrary act under your name. The fact was I did intend to send you some Yule logs I made but the staff told me that you went to England around the time I arrived. So, I just tell your staffs that you had ordered the cakes for them as some thanks for their hard work all throughout this year instead. They looked kinda happy though.”

❖ Somehow at the Ajisai Residence in Nara ❖

“Are you sure that Hi-chan won’t be scared by Kuraokami-san’s aura? I think he isn’t that good with strangers?”

“Hah, don’t you dare underestimate your buddy you damn brat! Asahi-kun was surely something else.”

“…What makes you so sure about it? I recalled that many people said they wanted to stay away from Kuraokami-san just because of his piercing and icy-cold stare.”

“Hmm? You don’t seem to be scared of him though.”

“…Of course, but other people still do! And one of those reasons I am not afraid of Kuraokami-san is because I know another ‘winter’ who was way a lot meaner than him.”

“Hey, watch your mouth. Do you think you were insulting who? … And do you really think that just being ‘somebody’ can literally have a nerve to put this thing on me?”

Aside from the weird-looking but comfy cat scarf wrapping around the red-haired boy’s neck and the bright yellow scarf over the old attendant named Chishio’s shoulder, there was one more weird scarf snuggling around the ex-tycoon’s neck 

—It was a rainbow unicorn scarf obviously knitted by hand. No wonder that the all high and mighty Saigo of the prestigious Fuyugami family was currently added to the victim(?) list of a certain wagashi artist’s weird scarf edition.

“To be honest, it is instead that kid who scares me the most…”

“Pfft… This serves you right, old man. That’s your penalty for not telling him what is your favorite color.”

Right now it seems like the said Secret Santa was still at his family store, busying himself with the unstoppable influx of customers in the festive mood of Christmas ;)

When he saw the scarf, as always he kept his stern face which he couldn’t express himself right infront of the assistant as if he doesn’t know what to feel but what he can say atleast is he’s delighted to receive such nice gifts and genuinely likes to wear dragon scarf right now to feel like King Arthur received a reward from slaying a dragon.

“So…What do you think?” He asked the assistant with curiosity

“it looks good on you, sir”

“This handmade scarf has a nice and soft scaly touch to my skin as if there’s a baby dragon wrapping around my neck. Say, assistant. Wouldn’t be great idea if dragons were existed and use it to be as our mascot?”

“S-sir forgive my rudeness but…if that happens, the dragon would’ve done more trouble like setting it on fire in our business”

“I guess you’re right…but I could able to tamed it though”

“Hahaha……oh by the way, Mr. Kuraokami. I wanted to to say thank you so much for the cakes. All of us were very happy with your kind gesture. Everyone here is going to do their best for the company!”

“Huh? o-oh yes. My pleasure, it’s indeed Christmas after all. You of all people deserve a reward after all the hard work you’ve done and I do must apologize for my uptight attitude towards you”

“N-no no! we’re just glad we worked here, you were just doing your job as our boss. At least some of us, including myself knows, sir. You are our great boss”

“I see……well carry on with your work then”

“Understood” they bow and left Yuki’s office

“and Merry Christmas…” he whispered softly

“Did you say something sir?”

“Nothing, off you go”

The assistant walk hurriedly away to do what their boss says while thinking back, they could’ve sworn they heard “merry christmas” right from Yuki’s mouth. Either it’s their imagination or he’s embarrassing to say it out loud. While on Yuki’s side, it reminds him that the next time he meets up with his secret Santa in person from Nara, he wanted to give thanks to the real sender for the cake and probably also tell them not to use his name next time. This is the rare time that he feels bad about himself LOL

— thanks for the gift and Merry Christmas! 🎄❤️

[tetsunabouquet]

Heir To The Lands Chapter 43

Honesty and Secrets Masterpost

Thais sat in the kitchen, thankful for having some time alone with Tomas. She had barely had the time to just drift on cloud 9 after their first date until this mess had occurred. He stared at her with an unrestrained moony grin, his hazelgreen eyes looking at her like nothing else existed in the world but her. "Has someone ever told you that you've got the cutest pyjamas ever?" He couldn't help but lightly tease as his gaze lowered towards her nightgown with sweet looking baby foxes printed all over it. Thais giggled and gave him a warm smile. "You have." Tomas winked, "I'm glad to be an honest boy. There's nothing more wonderful then the smile of a charming lady." "Surprisingly, I find your flattery to be the sugar of my tea." Thais said it before she could think about her choice of words, but she forgave herself for sounding a little cheesy. The butterflies and early stages of love got her feeling as if she had drank too much alcohol. Everywhere in her body she felt tingly. "You know, I wanted to say this for a while now, but you really are an amazing friend too." Tomas said, gesturing at their surroundings. Thais sighed softly, "Says the glue of the Three Musketeers." "I suppose we're both weak in the face of our friends, but it's not a bad thing. It just shows we have compatible values." Tomas pointed out sweetly. "You're right." They both looked up as they heard footsteps. Kit walked into the kitchen, his hands in the air. "I'm just grabbing a snack. You two can go back to the smooching in a sec." "We're not smooching." Thais retorted, feeling her face get a little red. Kit chuckled and grabbed himself a small package of crackers to munch on before he left, leaving Thais and Toman to fall back into eachother's eyes.

Kit tried to not think of Livvy dissapearing this morning. She had mentioned that she was going to check up on the Cohort as they shouldn't forget the threat they posed either. She had seemed a bit weird, but Kit blamed it on not being able to interact with everyone else. He bet she was feeling loney, isolated from the living like she was. Trying to distract himself, he wondered what the pink goblin was up to, as no one had spotted Gwenneth in a while. After a bit of searching, he found her in a corner of the backyard as she seemed to water the plants, however the water had a strangely sweet smell. "Gwenneth, what are you giving to the plants?" "Just a bit of water added with rosemary and ninnin." The first sounded pretty okay, but Kit knew from his Shadow Market days that ninnin was a faerie spice. "Why are you doing that if I may ask?" "Of course you may ask my King! I planted some yaya seeds, but with this earth's soil lacking a few of the nutritions that they need I am hereby making sure that they get what they need." Kit blinked. Wait a minute… "Yaya? You mean like those apples you fed Jaime when he was the Seelie Queen's captive?" Gwenneth nodded with a chipper smile. Kit rubbed his temples. "You can't just go plant faerie trees in the mundane world! What if they notice?!" "But my King, once I am a movie star and have become an ambassador for our world to the mundanes, I will say it was a gift for my first investor," Gwenneth replied and Kit simply decided to retreat back inside his house, debating how he should tell his foster parents that they were going to have a world exclusive in being the first to have faerie trees grow in their backyard. Just as he tried to think of a way to tell them, he felt someone bump into him from behind. He looked up and saw Dru, her face a little pale as she quickly went to sort the grocery bags into the kitchen, not even bothering to say hi. Kit sighed as he wondered what was worse, the Blackthorn sisters acting off or the Gwenneth situation as if things hadn't been bad enough already. Kit only knew one thing, that his life was utterly chaos and he bit down on the cracker feeling tired.

[justporo]

Meet my DnD character Kori!

I am finally done with creating my DnD character (or I am until my DM comes in hitting me with feedback and revisions like a ton of bricks)

But meet my OC Kori, she's a noble drow rogue! Her alignment is chaotic neutral.

Her full name is actually Akorinil'erel Zaulyl.

"My sharp tongue gets me far and the rest is acomplished by my sharp blades."

You can read her backstory and some more about her under the cut!

Her backstory (which is subject to change):

Akorinil’erel „Kori“ Zaulyl (first name meaning: beloved or first lady of the moon; last name meaning: children of the blade) was born as the daughter to an old and renowned drow noble house – together with her twin brother Ran’atar (meaning: lesser prince).

As the only heir to the weakening bloodline Kori has been honed as a weapon and to carry on the legacy of the noble house from very early on: that meant being relentless, arrogant, harsh, witty and vicious. A lot of pressure had always been put onto her.

She hated it. The only thing really pulling her through was the unyielding love for her twin brother, Ran’atar, who was the polar opposite of what most drow are: gentle, kind, full of dreams. Of course, that also meant that her brother was treated as inferior not only because he was male alone but also because he was perceived as weak and pathetic by his own family and other drow.

Kori and Ran dreamt of fleeing the Underdark and turning their backs on the drow society for a long time: hoping to settle down somewhere on the surface and make their own living. But they only ever actually planned to act on it when their parents made plans to arrange a marriage for Kori that was planned to fortify the standing of house Zaulyl: a tactical alliance between her family and the warring house of Oussra (meaning: heirs to poison).

But Oussra spies found out her plans to flee with her brother and exploited the waning strength of house Zaulyl to attack them and kill their whole family, keeping only her brother and her alive. Taking Ran’atar as a slave they left Kori alive only out of a twisted pleasure in torment: offering to let her pay a ransom to free her brother and obviously thinking that she would just give up and wither away in the darkness.

But Kori has never given up: she went to the surface and started working as a bounty hunter. Desperately trying to save up for the ransom of her brother. But between all the hard and dangerous jobs she took on, thirty years have already passed and the money’s only coming together slowly. Meanwhile the only thing she still has that reminds her of her brother is the moon necklace she always wears around her neck to which her brother has the companion piece of a star that can seamlessly click into her crescent moon – a gift he gave her when they crossed over into adulthood as elves at the age of 100.

She's headstrong and relentless (and also at least a little arrogant because that's how drow nobles are raised), ready to do anything to rescue her brother.

But because of her upbringing and her trauma she's also very closed up and unapproachable even though she'd like to be different, more like her brother. That means she hardly lets any people in and has problems accepting help (let alone asking for it).

Funfact: She only lets people call her Kori because if she hears ONE MORE PERSON absolutely BUTCHER her honoured noble name (some habits are just hard to shake), she will absolutely stab someone.

Another funfact: I'm planning to start another playthrough with her and ofc she's gonna rizz up the vampire elf (not the other way around).

And this is her brother Ran'atar:

[arcydonia]

00. [name]’s broke bitches — KING OF MY HEART

name lastname

— a third year at teyvat university and an acting major from a wealthy family; self-proclaimed “first scara fan”. they are the one who pays for everything in the friend group because everyone else is broke or on the verge of being so. they are childhood friends with kazuha and went to high school with yoimiya. [name] has a part-time job at a café on campus, but never seems to be too busy for their friends. though the public knows of their existence, their identity as an heir to their family’s wealth is unknown. their sister and her wife currently manage the corporation. 

hu tao

— a second yeat at teyvat university and a mortuary science major; she says she’ll take over wangsheng funeral parlour after she graduates and promotes it’s business whenever she can (mostly during exam season). she and [name] met during high school and they became friends. hu tao is anothe rballadeer fan and gets her merch and albums from [name]. because she doesn’t pay for the things she gets from [name], she feels a little guilty for leeching off of their money. hu tao is unaware that [name] is the child and an heir of the [lastname] family. in this setting, [lastname] happens to be a popular last name. 

naganohara yoimiya

— a third year at teyvat university and a business major; she decided to major in business because she wanted to be able to help her family’s business. she helps her father out with the fireworks shop in her free time. she and [name] met in high school and have stated close friends since then. she is yet another balladeer fan who gets spoiled with gifts by [name[. yoimiya and lumine have been dating since first year at teyvat uni. 

lumine

— a third year at teyvat university and an education major; she and aether once met [name] at 3am in the vonvenience store [name] worked at during high school. they met again during orientation at teyvat uni. the twins have been fans of scaramouche since around his debut and have stayed constant fans of his work. the twins are the only ones who sometimes pay for their merch. lumine has a part-time job at the university’s library, she also volunteers at the public library in their city. she and yoimiya have been dating since first year at teyvat uni. 

aether

— a third year at teyvat university and education major; he has been dating xiao since their high school days, however, they didn’t go to the same school. aether has a job at a café on campus; it’s not the same one [name] works at. he’s been a fan of scaramouche since debut, but has been following him since before then. he met pre-debut scaramouche through xiao; he doesn’t realize that he actually met him though. 

venti

— a fourth year at teyvayt university and a music major; he does covers on youtube for money which have gone viral a couple of times. venti produces his own music and has been scouted by a few companies since his time in high school. he is currently under FAVONIUS Entertainment. Venti became friends with [name] through the twins; the two of them are drinking buddies and have the highest alcohol tolerance out of the group.  

KING OF MY HEART!

 masterlist — next

for this act, the characters are between the ages of 20-24

[name] has a job because they don’t want to feel as if they rely on their family’s wealth for everything

[name] likes to spoil their friends with gifts; however, this quality of theirs has been taken advantage of by past friends and classmates

i am BEGGING tumblr not to hide my posts from tags again pls 😭

SUMMARY The week after your third year at Teyvat University, the world famous idol, the BALLADEER, drops an album out of nowhere leaving his fans in shambles! You thought that was it until he announces he’s going on tour through Teyvat, or... more specifically, your city. But the real icing on the cake is what’s revealed by Teyvatch right on New Year’s Eve during the concert’s after party. Oh my, what a scandal!

TAGLIST open! @sakiimeo @lazy-sanns @meigalaxy @scrmgf @ihatehomes @babyrizzy @alwaysmentallyill @vivinsoul​ @kimiesstuff @yuaenri @richxelle @lightlyfeatheredquailqin @gojoandelsalovechilde @asahiiinaa @nambii @thenightsflower

if your @ is white, it means i can’t tag you! it might help to check around your settings

01.07.2023 — @arcydonia​

[jadeyharls]

((Okay, so context. I said I would provide some for the thing going on with her right now, so here we go. I'm going to put this below a cut so people don't have to read my word vomit if they don't care to.))

Alrighty, then. So what the heck is going on. Well, for those of you who have known Jade for a while, you probably know about Jade's "pet" Gilligan. He's a robotic hummingbird assistant created by Jade's alt (Nova), which was given to her as a gift some years ago. She has absolutely adored this little guy from the start, treating him pretty much as one of her pack despite him not really having intelligence beyond some basic programming that allows him to complete his assigned tasks.

Over the years, Jade has made some modifications to help Gill better complete his tasks, do more, and act more lifelike. That being said, he has been acting odd for some time now, doing things that aren't quite within the parameters of his programming. Making nests in her hair, "talking" to some of Jade's other pets, and things that make him seem oddly aware. With that, he has also more recently started to malfunction to a concerning degree. This post I made was this coming to a head.

From here on out are spoilers, but I doubt anyone really cares all that much so onward we go.

So, remember that timeline post I made a little while back ago? At the end of it, I gave some ideas of some of the possible outcomes for Jade's future. However, the first thing it says it that Gilligan is [Spoilers]. So, what exactly am I talking about?

Well, in both of the future timelines mentioned, Jade has children. In the "good" timeline, Jade is a mother of four, and in the "bad" timeline she has an adopted heir. The thing is... Jade can't have biological children due to her hybridization. This is a fact that she isn't even aware of yet. So, where the heck does a robot bird fit in on this?

Gilligan in his current state is actually an early evolution of this Jade's oldest adopted son, a figure in both of the possible future timelines, Gill Harley.

How does this happen? Well, Jade isn't the only one that has been tampering with the bird's original design as will be revealed in one of the future posts. And because of this tampering, he's become self-aware. He has been for a while now. Only now he is making it known.

Like I said, I've been playing around with this idea for some time now. Gill in his current state, isn't going to be getting a more humanoid body for a good while as a Jade is trying to wrap her head around what is going on. He also, while he does have a computer brain, has the maturity of like a one-year-old. He doesn't really think of himself as a person yet, and that development is going to take some time as he "grows up". Meanwhile, Jade is going to take a while to move on from the idea that he is a pet that can talk now.

The idea is though that he will eventually start seeing himself as more than what he was built to be. He'll make a virtual avatar that is a human version of himself, and when Jade finds out, this is what gets her to realize that okay this kid needs a body, and I need to step up as a mom.

I might actually do a blog takeover thing for him sometime in the future, from the POV of his future alts from the Good/Bad timelines? Not sure how that would go yet, but the two versions of him differ quite a bit.

Anyway, that is my silly robot bird child story.