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aemondsbabe · 1 month

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What is Owed

summary: the gold cloaks raid the brothel, you make a deal to secure your freedom

pairing: harwin strong x lyseni!reader x daemon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is briefly described as having lyseni features (pale hair, purple eyes) but no other physical descriptors are used, mentions of sex work, reader is a sex worker, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, double penetration, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, regular fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, double creampie oh jeez, oral (m receiving), handjobs, hands on necks, "whore" is used both as a pet name and degradingly we love innovation, big hulking men idk, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so sorry for being away! wasn't intentional, just busy with life things! but god i missed writing and i'm so happy to finally have this one done! daddies galore!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A barely concealed sigh of disgust leaves your lips, which remain pulled into a tight, docile smile as some lord, whose name you couldn’t be bothered to remember, finally finishes over your bare chest with a beastly grunt, his hips twitching as you stroke him through it.

Took his sweet time, you think as you rise to your feet and quickly grab one of the spare cloths stashed in the nearby vanity to wipe his spend from your chest. Depositing the cloth in a nearby basket, you take a moment to right your dress and run your fingers through your pale hair. Finally, you turn back around and eye the man still lying across the ornate chaise catching his breath.

You glance at his trousers, still haphazardly piled on the floor, before checking him once more, smirking when you see that his eyes are still closed. Carefully, you make your way over to his trousers and kneel once more as you grab for the heap of fabric; keeping your eyes on him, you swiftly rifle through the pockets and smile triumphantly as you pull a few coins from one – one golden dragon, three copper stars, and a half-penny.

Grinning, you toss the man’s trousers back onto the floor before quickly grabbing the small coin purse you keep tucked away beneath the chaise, way back toward the wall and covered by the ends of one of the red satin curtains that cover the windows of the brothel – the perfect hiding spot until you can move them to the more secure lock-box beneath your bed.

“Mmph,” the lord sighs, stirring finally just as you drop the last coin into your pouch. Shoving it back beneath the chaise, you quickly rise to your feet with a placid smile just as he finishes stretching.

“Some wine for you, my lord,” you smile, keeping your voice light and sweet in just the way the Madam likes as you offer him a goblet, “To replenish your strength.”

“Yes, yes,” the older man mumbles, paying you no mind as he busies himself with the buttons on his tunic, “Fetch me my trousers,” he commands, brushing you off with a wave of his hand.

“Of course, my lord,” you nod, teeth gritting as you set the goblet back down before grabbing his blasted trousers with an eye roll. He all but snatches them from you with a pompous little hum, not even looking in your direction. Once again behaving as the Madam demands, you merely stand by while he redresses, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you wait to be of service once again, or, hopefully, to kindly escort him to the door.

You don’t mind working in the brothel, not really, especially knowing that it could be much worse – you could’ve ended up as one of the many beggars that line the streets of Flea Bottom or, more dreadful still, stuck as a slave back home. It was luck, really, that brought you to the brothel in the first place, back when you were still stumbling half-blind with grief around the fish market by the docks only to be plucked up by chance by a few of the girls from the brothel. They’d brought you back here, promising that the Madam would take you in, that you’d earn great money with your exotic looks.

One of those things had been true – the Madam was very happy to take you in. Technically, you do also make great money… for the brothel; only a small percentage is ever paid back to the workers and, for your circumstances, that just won’t do. Which is precisely why you sometimes took a little tip for yourself, especially if your client for the evening was of higher status; it’s not as if they’d miss, or even notice, a few missing coins.

As far as you’re concerned, it’s a flawless system.

You’re brought out of your short reverie by another sigh from the lord as he polishes off the goblet of wine you’d offered some moments ago and once more, your lips quirk up into a pleasing smile, “Leaving so soon, my lord?”

“Mm,” he merely grumbles before flashing you a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth making your stomach turn, “Worry not, girl, I’ll be back before the tournament’s over.”

“Wonderful,” you sigh, grimacing internally as you make a half-step toward the arched doorway, “I’ll see you out.” Blessedly, the lord makes no more of a fuss and lets you lead him to the entryway, sparing you one final nod before slipping down the dimly lit street.

You remain in the doorway for a moment more, arms crossed over your chest as you gaze outside, relishing the feel of the cool night air against your skin. After a moment, though, your eyes narrow when you realize the streets seem much quieter than usual. At this hour, there would normally be more people about – some returning from a long day of work, others already stumbling around drunk, but tonight there were only a few scattered people roaming about.

“Strange…,” you murmur to yourself, absentmindedly running a finger over the gold chain around your neck, your fingers brushing over the small key hanging from it. Sparing a glance up at the Dragonpit looming on the nearby hill, you finally close the door with a shrug. Returning to the room you’d serviced the lord in, you glance around quickly to make sure the coast is clear before you retrieve the small coin purse from beneath the chaise, smiling at the weight of it as you carry it swiftly back to your bed, to your little lockbox, wholly unaware of the envious gaze on your back.

“Commander on the floor!” One of the Gold Cloaks shouts as Daemon prowls into the hall, a self-righteous smirk on his lips as the drum of fists against chest plates ceases.

“When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels,” he growls, dark violet eyes surveying the men around him, “Starving and undisciplined!”

He pauses for a second, heart pounding with the heady sensation of power as he prepares to do what his dear older brother cannot – punish. Too long have the streets of King’s Landing, of his city gone to the Seven Hells; controlled by crime and near-anarchy when they should be controlled by him, by the dread of his authority.

“Now, you’re a pack of hounds,” his voice rises as he speaks, as he breathes life into his men, “You’re sated and honed for the hunt!”

Howls erupt around the hall, making the prince’s lips stretch into a vicious grin – his men were ready, ready to rule with the iron fist Viserys lacked.

“My brother’s city has fallen into squalor!” He says, pacing down the room, “Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive!”

His chainmail clinks with each of his heavy steps, pride swelling in his chest as many of the soldiers nod their heads along with him. It was true, after all, everyone knew it. Viserys may have the crown, the damned throne, but the dragonfire in his veins had run cold long ago. The blood in Daemon’s burns hot, however; centuries of power and glory fuel his fires, flowing through him like the lava in the Dragonmont.

“No longer,” he grunts, pausing at the end of the hall, the silken cloth draped over his shoulders shining in the light of the torches lining the room as he turns to eye his men, smirking at the blood lust evident on their faces, “Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold!”

A loud bang wakes you sometime later and you sit up with a small gasp, clutching the linen bed sheets. Whipping your head around, you can see the dark night sky still looms heavily over the city through the slats in the window – you must’ve not been asleep very long.

Another cry from somewhere outside finally gets you moving and you quickly wrap yourself in an embroidered silk robe, tying it loosely around your waist as you move closer to the door, your ears perked at the sound of frantic whispers. Poking your head through the beaded curtain that separates the sleeping quarters from one of the hallways, you finally spot a familiar face in the dim candlelight.

“Genna!” You whisper, waving one of the other working girls over, “What’s going on, what’s happened?”

“Gold Cloaks!” She hisses, working quickly to stuff an armful of dresses into a small bag, “They’ve gone mad, they’re rounding up damn near everyone out there!”

“Gone mad?” You echo, brows pinching together as you look toward the entrance, another muffled cry from outside catching your attention, along with the sounds of metal clanging against metal.

Genna merely nods as she practically shoves past you to get into the room before quickly loading her bag with various perfumes, oils, and loose jewelry from one of the vanities, “One of the regulars came by, woke everyone up,” she explains as she quickly ties the bag off, “They’re taking in anyone who’s so much as nicked an apple from the market.”

Your eyes go wide at her words, head ringing as blood rushes to your cheeks. Thankfully, she seems too busy to notice you glance warily at your bed, knowing your lockbox with weeks worth of lifted coins is tucked neatly below it.

“I’m telling you, if you’ve pocketed even one extra groat, you’re as good as dead,” She shakes her head as she slings her bag over one shoulder, “Get out while you can, yeah? I think they’re a ways away st–”

A deafening crash from the front of the building cuts her off, the both of you shrieking. Your heart pounds in your chest at the sound of men’s voices; yours and Genna’s heads swivel to face one another at the same time before you both glance at the large wardrobe in the corner of the room – big enough for someone to climb inside of.

It seems you both have the same idea at the same time, each of you scrambling toward the cupboard. She’s a second behind you, though, her hefty bag slowing her by an instant and she yelps as you pull the wooden doors closed, pinching one of her fingers. You push yourself as far back in the cramped space as you can, trying to tuck yourself behind the hanging coats and dresses.

Finally, you stay as still as possible, chest heaving as your back presses into the wood behind you. You hear a muffled curse from Genna before she shrieks as heavy footsteps flood into the room.

“Shut it, whore!” A guard yells and the sound of a harsh slap makes you cover your mouth with a hand.

“Careful!” A different voice shouts as more heavy footsteps sound outside, “She’s a woman, not a shadowcat,” the new voice admonished, “Take her outside with the others, then go ahead and take the wagons to the dungeons below the Keep. No harm is to come to any of them, understood?”

“But the Commander sai–”

“I don’t give a shit what the Commander said,” the man all but growled, “I am your superior still, soldier, you take orders from me; I’ll worry about him. The night’s gotten out of hand as it is.”

“Yes, Captain,” the first man grumbles after a second. Heavy footsteps sound for an instant before Genna shrieks again, “I said shut it, whore!” The man’s voice is a bit muffled this time, further away.

“Tell the Commander I’m searching in here!” The second voice calls out gruffly; silently, you curse.

You hold yourself as still as possible as the muffled sounds of opening drawers and cabinets sound from outside the wardrobe, slowly but surely getting closer to you. Your heart leaps into your throat as the wardrobe doors are tugged open, yet you hold yourself still and squeeze your eyes closed, a naïve part of you hoping the soldier would just overlook you.

Of course that doesn’t happen.

“I do see you, you know,” the gruff voice sighs, his eyes on you, “Come on, out,” he commands.

Finally, you open your eyes and peek at him through gaps of fabric, warily taking in his appearance. Your eyes widen at his size, truly a mountain of a man, with curly dark hair and matching dark eyes, clad in metal plate armor with a familiar golden cloak around his shoulders. The look in his eyes is neutral, if not sympathetic, but you still don’t move, rooted to the spot.

With another sigh, he shakes his head at you and beckons you forward with a wave of his hand, “Please make this easy.”

When you still don’t move after a few more seconds, the man grumbles and reaches in, shoving past various articles of clothing until he grabs at your forearm and pulls you, stumbling, from the wardrobe.

“Let me go!” You cry, struggling in his grasp like a fish on a line, “Let me go, damn you! I haven’t done anything!” You shriek loudly, uselessly kicking your feet as he holds you steady at arms length.

“Easy!” The dark-haired man shouts over your screeches, “If you’ll just calm–”

“What’s this?” Another voice questions from the doorway, making both of you pause. Your eyes widen when you see the man, dressed in the same gold cloaked armor as the one holding you, though this one has purple eyes and pale white hair cascading over his shoulders, complete with a familiar face you’d seen before in the shadowy corners of the brothel, “Is that her?”

Her? You balk, glancing between the two men, They were looking for me?

The brunette stays silent for a moment, bushy brows furrowed together as he looks between you and the prince, brown eyes meeting two sets of purple, “She’s not… one of his, is she?” He asks quietly, only confusing you more.

Prince Daemon merely chuckles and shakes his head as he traipses toward you with a smirk. “Ohh, no, definitely not,” he mutters, squeezing your cheeks in one large, gloved hand as he forces your face to lift up toward his, “No, my dearest brother would never dare betray his wife so.”

He tilts your head from side to side, studying your face carefully, before making you face him once again as the other guard keeps hold of your arm, “What’s your name, girl?”

You glance between the men, caged in between their large frames, before finally telling them, each syllable merely a whisper on your lips.

The prince repeats it with a smug smile, the sound of your name on his tongue makes your head spin. “Ah, see, just as I thought,” he smirks, a pleased twinkle in his violet eyes, “A Lyseni whore.”

The other man merely grunts, though you don’t miss the way his dark brown eyes flit over your form appreciatively. Daemon moseys around the room, eyes scanning over the row of matching twin beds lined against one wall. “Which is yours?”

“I… I don’t sleep in here, my pr–”

“Lying won’t do you any good, you know,” he smirks, “We’ve had eyes and ears all over the city for months, including here. So, I’ll ask again. Which bed?”

You hesitate, only for a moment, before nodding at the bed to the far right. Your mind reels as Daemon begins his search, Someone was spying in here? One of the other girls?

“Aha!” He says after only a moment and your heart sinks as he pulls your small wooden lockbox out from its hiding spot. He drops it down onto your bed with a gloating smirk and you glance up just in time to see one of the prince’s pale hands reaching for the key at your neck, easily tugging it off the chain as you gasp and jerk once more in the other man’s grasp. “That was a gift from my father!”

“Daemon, please,” the other man sighs tiredly, scrambling to hold you in place once more, “Was that truly necessary?”

“Don’t start with me, Strong,” the prince huffs, moving to unlock the box, “You’ve spoiled my night of fun enough as is.” A low whistle sounds from his lips as he flips open the lid, quickly shuffling through the various coins, small pieces of jewelry, and other trinkets you’ve managed to swipe.

“Seems we got the right one after all,” the man holding your arm, the one apparently called Strong, murmurs, nodding toward you.

“Of course we got the right bloody one,” Daemon scoffs, violet eyes rolling in his head, “I only know of two Lyseni whores in this city and it certainly isn’t the other one.”

“Mysaria!” You whisper lowly, eyes widening as puzzle pieces begin clicking together in your mind.

The prince merely laughs, looking between you and the other knight as if you’ve just told some hilarious joke. “Finally figured it out, eh?” He teases, sauntering over to where you’re still being held.

As soon as he’s in reach, the guard holding you grabs your other arm as well, holding them both behind your back as if you’d be stupid enough to try anything against two Gold Cloaks. Even if you did manage to free yourself, what would be the point in running now?

“Seems we have a clever whore on our hands, Strong,” Daemon drawls, grinning when you flinch as he grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his once more, “And a pretty one too. You must earn enough to pay your keep, no? A little exotic flower like you is bound to get plucked at often enough.”

You wait for him to continue speaking but he doesn’t, he simply waits, eyes boring into you as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. For all you know, he can – you’ve heard whispers around King’s Landing of how the Targaryens were supposedly closer to Gods than men.

“I suppose so, my prince,” you all but squeak a moment later, unable to bear the intense silence any longer.

“Then tell me,” you gasp as he suddenly turns your head, directing your gaze toward the small wooden lockbox strewn open on your bed, “Why does a well paid whore need to steal? Hm?”

“I wasn’t stealing for me!” You blurt, chest heaving.

“Then why do it?” You startle slightly as the knight behind you speaks, his grip on your wrists loosening enough for you to relax some in his grasp. For someone so gruff and intimidating, there was a distinctive warmth to his voice – a soft, kind lilt.

With a sigh, you glance between the two men before speaking, “I send it back to my family, once every other moon or so.”

“You send money to your family,” Daemon echos, purple eyes narrowed suspiciously, “In Lys, I presume?”

You simply nod, your eyes downcast as the men share a look over your head.

“Why do you need to send them money?” The Strong guard asks as he releases your arms, brown eyes watching you closely.

“My father was a merchant,” you begin, nervously fiddling with the tie on your robe, “He would travel to Volantis a few times a year to buy the more exotic goods shipped in from cities further east, from the other side of Slaver’s Bay, to bring back to sell in Lys. He could get a better price for them at home, Westerosi ships rarely go any further than our ports and they were willing to pay more.”

“And then, one time he left for Volantis and… never came back,” you continue, your voice only a raspy whisper as the back of your throat tightens, “We received word some months later that there had been a slave rebellion in the city and that my father had been killed in it. So, now I send money back so that my mother and siblings are able to pay for our house, because in Lys, if you can no longer afford your land you –”

“You risk becoming a slave yourself,” the brunette knight finishes, sighing sympathetically when you nod.

“How very touching,” the prince mutters, though you can see pity clouding his eyes as well.

“Perhaps we should just let her go,” the Strong guard says after a moment, making you whip your head toward him in shock, “She isn’t a danger to anyone.”

“She may not be,” Daemon says, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “But a drunken, disgruntled lord who’s discovered his gold missing certainly is.”

The brown haired man hums thoughtfully at his reasoning and both of them eye you for a moment, silence falling over the room.

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you silently reason that you have two options – convince them to free you or wind up in a cell beneath the Red Keep. Being locked away simply isn’t an option, not for you, as that would mean being unable to send money to your family and although petty theft doesn’t carry the penalty of death, you know that if anything were to happen to them, you’d wish it did.

Gathering your courage, you look between the two men, eyeing them up and down. “Perhaps,” you start, loosening the tie on your robe just enough to bare your cleavage just a bit more, “I could convince you that I’m worth much more as a free woman?”

“Little minx,” the prince rasps, stepping toward you and grasping at your jaw once more, “Maybe you’ll prove useful after all,” he says cryptically.

Before you have time to dwell on his words, he releases you and busies himself with quickly unbuckling his plate armor, letting the chest and torso pieces noisily clank on the floor as they fall against a pile of gold cloth.

You gasp as Daemon grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him, pressing himself against you tightly as his rough hands roam over your soft curves. You can’t help but giggle as an appreciative grunt leaves his lips, violet eyes darkening as they meet yours.

“Daemon,” the other guard starts with a sigh, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

“Come, ser Strong,” the prince growls, hastily turning you to face the brown eyed man. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you look him up and down, the corners of your lips quirking up into a small smile when you see the flush on his cheeks, “It would be rude to turn down what our little mouse is so generously offering, hm?” The feel of Daemon’s hands on your body makes your eyes flutter closed for just a second, only to snap back open when he roughly grabs at your breasts just as his teeth press against the column of your throat, eliciting a soft cry from you.

“O-Oh!”

“See? Listen to that,” Daemon says, words muffled against your skin, “She likes it, don’t you?”

You quickly nod your head yes, head clouded by the feel of the prince’s length as it presses against the small of your back, hard enough to be felt through the trousers they wear under their armor. He chuckles as he suddenly cups your center, the silky fabric of your robe pressing against your already aching flesh, and nips at your neck once more before releasing you.

“Go,” he murmurs, giving you a gentle push toward the other knight, “Make the stubborn bore more comfortable.”

Biting your lip, you approach the man with a little grin. Standing before him, you move your hand to his shoulder, to the buckles of his plate armor.

“Is this okay?”

All he gives you is a curt nod, but it’s enough for you. With another reassuring smile, you pull at the leather buckles, unstrapping them one by one until he grabs at his chest plate and sets it on the floor, more gentle with it than Daemon had been.

Pausing for a second, you cock your head to the side curiously. “I know him,” you say with a nearly bashful smile, nodding your head at the prince, “But what do I call you, Ser?”

“Harwin, my lady. Just Harwin.”

Still sensing hesitance from him, you decide to be bold and gently take one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts, peering up into his deep brown eyes all the while. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile at the low groan that rumbles from his chest and you marvel at how warm his touch is through your robe, though before you have time to linger on it further, Harwin surges forward and presses his lips against yours.

You still for a second, not having expected such boldness from a man who had held so much back thus far. Getting your wits about you, you quickly respond in kind and move your lips with his, leaning into him a bit more as you grab at his shoulders. A pleased hum leaves your lips as his hands begin exploring you, seeming to grab and knead at any bits of you he can like he’s been starved for touch for years.

He groans into the kiss once more when you nip at his bottom lip, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth, which earns a small whimper from you as one of your hands slips down from his shoulder to rest on his toned, muscular chest.

The sudden feel of another presence at your back makes you jump slightly – you’d gotten so wrapped up in Harwin that you’d nearly forgotten that Daemon was still in the room, though the knowledge that he’d been watching the two of you sends an excited zing up your spine.

“Oh!” You gasp as he begins nipping and biting at your neck once more, soothing the marks he leaves behind with his tongue. Your lips move against Harwin’s as another pair of hands begins exploring you, impatiently tugging at the tie around your waist until your robe falls open. A whine leaves you as the knight’s hands immediately cup your bare breasts, kneading them and savoring the way your soft skin feels against his palms. At the same time, Daemon nearly growls as he presses himself against your ass, grinding his length against you as his hands grip at your hips and waist.

“I believe you said something about convincing us?” He mutters against your neck, grinning when you pull away from Harwin and meet his gaze as you turn to look over your shoulder, brow raising when you see he’d taken the time to strip off his tunic at some point.

“Quite right, my prince,” you grin, looking between the two men once more before slipping off your robe, leaving you bare as it pools on the floor. Your cheeks flush at their appreciative groans, skin prickling at the way you can practically feel their eyes on you.

With another little breath, you lower yourself to your knees between them and immediately skim your hands over their strong thighs. Ever eager, Daemon quickly unties his trousers, a predatory gleam in his purple eyes as he frees his hardening length.

You bite your bottom lip at the sight of it and quickly reach up to wrap a hand around it, marveling at the way it hardens steadily under your touch. “I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive,” you murmur, softly licking over the tip before sealing your lips around it and suckling gently while you gaze up at him, batting your lashes enticingly.

“Fuck,” he breathes, long fingers threading into your hair as his head tips back. You grin around him, bobbing your head while you stroke over the rest of his length with a hand, laving your tongue over the head.

Not forgetting about Harwin, you shift your gaze to him as your other hand palms his length where it presses against the rough fabric of his trousers, already hard and wanting. That seems to be the final straw for him and he scrambles to undo the ties, brown eyes glued to where your lips are wrapped around the prince’s hard cock.

Your eyes widen when his length finally springs free and you let Daemon slip from your lips as your mouth falls open. “Seven Hells,” you murmur, watching as Harwin strokes a hand over his cock, a proud smirk on his lips.

“Well now, that must be where your damn stubborn attitude comes from, Strong,” the prince teases, chest heaving as you continue stroking a hand over his length.

Unable to resist, you brush the knight’s hand away before grasping his cock in your own, heart skipping a beat as your fingers hardly touch around the girth of it. You lean over and lick up the length of him, from the base to the very tip, before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head in the same way you did with Daemon.

It takes a few moments, but eventually you settle into a good rhythm – stroking one man’s member with your hand while you suck and lick at the others, swapping every few moments or when one of them gets impatient enough to tug you over by the hair.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the cacophonous sounds of grunts and growls above you, at the way each man’s fingers thread into your hair differently. Daemon’s grip is much rougher, more commanding, as he drags you exactly where he wants, pushing and pulling your head along his cock in an exacting rhythm.

Harwin, on the other hand, is more gentle — his tugs seeming more like suggestions than commands. Unlike the prince, he strokes over your hair gently as you attend to him, letting you set your own pace. Anytime your eyes meet his, he looks at you with awe almost, hairy chest heaving as his hips twitch, holding himself back from fucking your face in the way he wants.

Daemon has no such qualms, hasn’t the patience to resist tugging at your hair as he presses your mouth lower and lower down his cock, relishing the way you choke and sputter. His violet, half-lidded gaze sends shivers through you each time your eyes meet, the look in his eyes echoing the fierce dragon’s blood flowing in his veins.

Surprisingly, it’s Harwin that breaks first, tossing back his head with a low groan after some minutes and pulling you off of his cock.

“What—?” You scarcely get the word out before his lips are on yours once again, tongue licking into your mouth.

“Need you,” he mumbles simply, glaring as Daemon snickers behind your back. “Please,” he breathes, voice softer this time.

“You needn’t ask,” Daemon drawls, pressing himself against your side as his hands paw at your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples and chuckling at the way you whine, “She’s a whore.”

You roll your eyes playfully at the remark and grab Harwin’s hand, leading him toward one of the bigger rooms of the brothel. “That may be true, but perhaps I like a man with some decorum, my prince,” you call over your shoulder, chuckling as Daemon follows hot on your heels.

You lead the men to one of the fancier rooms, one laden with imported ornate rugs and silken lamps that give it a warm red glow, complete with a giant circular daybed with plenty of room for all three of you. After all, if the brothel is empty, why not take advantage of it?

Putting on your very best show, you push at Harwin’s hairy chest until he sits back on the edge of the bed before walking over to him with a sly smirk, hips swaying enticingly. A chuckle leaves your lips when his eyes widen as you climb on his lap, your thighs bracketing his.

“Is this ok –” His lips are on yours before you can finish the question; the both of you move a bit more desperately now, though his touches are no less attentive as his hands skim over your waist and up your back.

Suddenly, you’re tugged away from Harwin’s lips with a little gasp as one of Daemon’s hands laces through the hair at the crown of your head, drawing you back until your spine is arched.

“Forgetting someone?” He teases, lightly wrapping his other hand around your neck in a way that sends pleasant tingles down to your already aching center. You shake your head no, teeth biting into your bottom lip as Harwin’s cock twitches between your legs.

“Never, my prince,” you murmur, smiling into the kiss as Daemon presses his lips against yours. His movements are more urgent than Harwin’s and it soon dissolves into a battle of teeth and tongues; you mewl into his mouth when the hand around your neck slides down your chest and palms eagerly at one of your breasts.

Though they’re closed, your eyes roll back as Harwin leans forward and begins mouthing at the side of your neck, his wavy hair tickling your shoulder. Soon enough, both men are pawing greedily at your chest, making your head spin – both of their touches are so different: where Daemon is rough, pinching at your nipple until you gasp and whine into his kiss, Harwin is gentle and uses his thumb to tease at the other until he feels you shivering on his lap.

The knight surprises you once more when his touch skirts down over your stomach before his fingers run through your folds, making you jerk from Daemon’s grasp with a moan. Your cheeks flush slightly at the sight of the little victorious grin on Harwin’s face as he expertly circles your pearl, watching closely at the way his touch makes you squirm and grind down against his hard length.

“That’s it,” he husks, grunting as your grasp tightens on his shoulders, nails digging into his lightly tanned skin, “Need to warm you up, don’t I?”

Beside you, Daemon scoffs as he stands straight once more, fingers still threaded through your hair. “Please,” he huffs, sliding closer to where you sit on the knight’s lap, until his length is practically brushing against your cheek, “Whores don’t need warming, Strong. You may as well take her.”

Before you have time to so much as register the jab, Harwin slips a thick finger inside you in the same instance that Daemon manhandles his cock into your waiting mouth, muffling your whimpers. Both men growl as they take you, the knight’s finger fucking easily into your wet channel as the prince’s length slides against your tongue once more.

You can hardly do more than ragdoll in their grasp, mewling while Harwin fingers you open, adding a second digit after a moment and crooking them in a way that makes your hips rut eagerly into his touch while Daemon takes from you as he pleases, fucking into your throat with loud growls and grunts.

Below you, Harwin groans as he easily presses a third finger into your heat, watching you carefully as he does and smirking when you show no signs of discomfort. “Think you’re ready for me,” he murmurs, chuckling when you nod your head as best as you can. As desperate as you are to be filled properly, you can’t help but let out a little petulant whine as he pulls his fingers from you.

“Patience,” he grunts, shifting you on his lap enough to reach between your bodies and fist his length, grinning at the way you squirm eagerly as he runs the head through your slick folds. His chest reverberates under your palms when he growls as he finally grabs at your hips and pulls you down steadily over his thick cock, half-lidded eyes staring down at where you both connect, “Fuck, there you go.”

You pull away from Daemon with a loud gasp, sucking in a lungful of air, chest heaving as your walls pulse around the knight, savoring the way his stretches you open. “Gods!” You cry, wriggling in his hold as you grind against him, your hips moving of their own accord.

Daemon huffs, annoyed, and tries dragging you back onto his cock a few times to no avail, quickly becoming irritated at the way you mindlessly clench your jaw closed each time Harwin’s cock presses against the sensitive spot within you.

“Poor little whore,” the prince sighs exasperatedly, once again tugging your head back until your eyes meet his, “Too distracted, hm?”

You open your lips to reply, only to gasp dazedly as Harwin thrusts up into you from below, muscular thighs flexing under your own. “Give her a moment,” he grunts, gripping your hips to guide you over his length.

The prince merely tsks, pulling at your hair again until your eyes pop open; a shiver goes through you at the smirk that graces his lips, as if he knows something you don’t. “Tell me,” he starts, carding his long fingers through your hair, “Have you ever taken two cocks at once?”

“N – fuck!” You gasp, eyes rolling back briefly as Harwin ruts up into you quickly, evidently excited by the idea, “N-No.”

“Hmm,” Daemon hums, smirk only widening, “Then I know just the way to get your attention.”

He moves away from you quickly, letting your head flop back uselessly as he walks swiftly to a small cabinet in the corner of the room where the Madam keeps a small stock of massage oils and lotions. You straighten just in time to watch as he stalks back over to you and Harwin, a vial of oil in hand. “I trust you have at least some experience with this, yes?” He questions, letting out a pleased hum when you nod.

The two men share a look between them and you mewl as Harwin lays back against the day bed, pulling you with him until you’re lying against his chest, making you gasp as the change in angle presses his length squarely against the most sensitive spot within you.

“Hold her steady,” Daemon murmurs behind you, uncorking the little bottle of oil.

The knight grunts when you tighten around him and one of his hands abandons its hold on your hip to cup one of your cheeks, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man of his stature. “Excited?” He questions, brown eyes studying your face carefully.

Any reply dies on your lips in lieu of an eager gasp when you feel the prince’s presence behind you, his hips nearly touching your rear as he slots himself between Harwin’s legs. Still, you nod your head earnestly, sending pearlescent hair cascading over your shoulders to pool on the knight’s chest.

Harwin’s chest rumbles with a satisfied hum, though you’re left gasping at the feel of one of Daemon’s hands deftly parting your arse cheeks, swiftly followed by massage oil being drizzled between them, filling the room with the scent of lavender. When you jolt slightly at the feel of a finger skirting over your entrance, the prince is quick to reprimand you with a sharp slap to the rear, leaving your skin tingling in its wake.

“You’re going to be good for us?” Harwin questions, drawing your attention back to him as he smooths a thumb over your cheekbone.

“Y-Yes, yes,” you nod listlessly, breaths staggered as Daemon fingers you open, expertly preparing you. Again, you earn a pleased hum from the man below you.

The next few moments pass in a blur – your head spins as the prince readies you and Harwin placates you all the while with gentle caresses and kisses, even snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your aching pearl.

Finally, Daemon seems satisfied and pulls his fingers from you before slotting himself against you, quickly slicking up his cock with more of the oil before pressing the head against your opening, grinning smugly when you press back against him.

“Fuck, there we go,” he rasps, carefully sliding his length into you until his hips meet your backside.

A high, whining keen is pulled from your lungs at the stretch, tingles shooting up your spine and making you shudder at the feel of being this filled. You can do little more but gasp, pinned between two muscular bodies, as the men start to move. The feel of it is like none other, a constant push and pull as they thrust in and out of you in tandem.

“G-Gods, fuck!” You finally cry, managing to suck in a lungful of air as your nails dig into Harwin’s chest.

The knight beneath you isn’t faring much better than you are, a near constant stream of deep grunts and groans leaving his lips as he feels you tighten on his cock. “By the Seven, you feel divine,” he mumbles, making you cry out as he pulls you to him, strong hands encircling your waist as he mouths at your shoulder, biting at your skin.

Above you, Daemon’s violet eyes remain fixed on your ass, savoring the way it bounces each time his hips smack against it, watching as his length spears into you again and again. “What a good little whore,” he grunts, words short and clipped as he clenches his jaw. A stuttered moan is pulled from you as he grabs at your backside, fingers do doubt leaving bruises in their wake as he gropes you, “Taking us so well.”

Your muscles tense at the praise as your high threatens to overwhelm you, looming in a small pit in your belly that’s growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Your walls tighten around Harwin again, making him hiss beneath you.

“Gonna, Gods, I –” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as the knight bullies the sensitive spot within you, pounding against it with each rough thrust, making your words die on your tongue.

Thankfully, Harwin understands perfectly, balancing on that thin precipice himself – the cacophonous litany of your moans and whines along with the lewd, wet sounds of their cocks plunging into you again and again only serving to push him further to his own end.

“That’s it,” the knight rasps, grabbing your chin with one hand and directing your attention toward him once more, “Go on, peak, let me feel it.”

His command, along with another hard smack to your rear from Daemon, send you hurtling over the edge with a sharp, loud cry. You lose all sense between them, muscles clenching and relaxing rhythmically as your whole body seems to erupt into flame.

The gorgeous look on your face, along with the steady pulse of your walls around him, finish Harwin as well. A deep groan, complementary to your own high-pitched whines, is all but punched from his chest as his length twitches within you, painting your walls with his spend.

As your peak slowly settles, like waves receding at low tide, you’re left gasping, clinging to Harwin as Daemon still thrusts wildly into you, chasing his own high. Desperate to feel you clench around him once more, the prince reaches around, over your hip, and his greedy fingers quickly find your bud.

“Oh!” You gasp, squirming in the knight’s grasp as the prince’s fingers roughly rub against your pearl, forcibly dragging you right back to the edge you’d just fallen from.

“Come on,” Daemon grunts, tugging you up by the shoulder until your back presses against his chest, deep, vicious grunts filling your ear, “One more, little whore, fucking do it for me.”

You scramble in his hold, lips parting in a silent cry as your muscles jerk in sharp, uncoordinated movements. Unable to extract yourself from his hold, the overstimulation finally gives way to blinding pleasure once more and you peak with a loud, piercing yelp.

Daemon grunts behind you, pleased, as your walls all but force a high from him as well. He thrusts into you a few more times, groaning at the feel of your slick coating his fingers and pooling between your bodies. Finally, he lets go, grumbling low words in a language you don’t understand as he fills you.

The only sounds in the near empty brothel is the sound of staggered pants as the three of you catch your breaths, content to do little more than lie in a heap for a few moments.

It’s Daemon that moves first, pulling himself from you with a muted grunt before swaggering over to a small vanity, pulling up and tying his trousers as he goes.

Harwin soothes you with gentle touches as he pulls away, keenly aware of the way you wince at certain movements, overly sensitive now. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentler now as he surveys your body, “Nothing hurts?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his concern, so unused to men caring for you once they finish. “I’m fine, I assure you,” your lips quirk into a smile as you soothe his worries, a little sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against the silken sheets that cover the daybed.

“Here,” Daemon grunts with indifference as he tosses a clean cloth at you, more than familiar with the layout of the place, “To clean yourself.”

You huff softly and roll your eyes playfully before grabbing the small towel and standing to wipe spend and extra oil from your skin, making a mental note to heat water for a proper bath as soon as the men leave.

It’s then that it occurs to you that they may not let you stay, what if even this wasn’t enough to secure your freedom, to get them to overlook your transgressions?

“So,” you start, discarding the cloth in a laundry basket by the vanity before turning and facing the men, surprised to find Harwin’s eyes already on you, “Forgive and forget, yes? The debt has been paid, etcetera?”

They share a look as they dress themselves, Daemon loosely pulling on his armor, opting to tuck most of it beneath an arm, though Harwin takes the time to fasten his properly.

“Oh, I think you’ve more than convinced us to spare you, little minx,” the prince drawls, eyes roving over your still nude form as he approaches you and takes your chin between two long fingers, “As for your debt, well…”

You grin as he trails off, two pairs of purple eyes sliding over to Harwin.

“There’s still the interest to consider,” he murmurs with a little chuckle, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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topguncortez · 8 months

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A Letter to My Grandchild - Rooster & Dragon

over the rainbow series | rooster & dragon masterlist | main masterlist

synopsis: Maverick isn't known for keeping a lot of things from his past, but he did hang on to a beat up old shoe box for the day his best friend's boy would grow up and settle down

word count: 2.3k

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of past pregnancies, mentions of character death, cursing

note: nope y'all didn't miss any parts. it's just me, writing out of order. and I wanted to give y'all something cute and sweet before whumptober starts:)

Maverick wasn’t sure how long he had held on to the letter, let alone remembered where he had put it. Penny thought he had finally lost his mind when she came home to boxes of Mav’s stuff strewn all over the living room. Maverick had never ever been labeled a “pack-rat” choosing to live very modestly, but there was some stuff he had kept over the years. One of those things had been a couple of envelopes that Carole had given to him the last time he saw her alive. Carole could hardly keep her eyes open from the pain medication but she had managed to direct Maverick towards her closet and grab an old shoe box that had been tucked away in the corner.

“You give that to him. . . when he becomes a father,” She had whispered to Maverick. He had promised his best friend’s widow that he would keep the box safe and protect it with his life. He swore that if his house was on fire, that old shoe box from Yonkers would be the one thing he ran back in and saved.

Maverick didn’t even bother to wrap the shoe box or remove its contents into some nicer box. Instead, he slapped a bright pink bow on it and set it on the gifts table with the others, sticking out like a sore thumb. He stood in the back of the crowded bar with Jake and the rest of the guys, watching as Dragon and Rooster took their time opening up the gifts and holding them up so everyone could see. Phoenix sat to the right of her sister, already taking on the doting aunt duty by writing down what the gift was and who it was from.

Maverick still couldn’t believe that he was standing in the same room as Bradley Bradshaw, celebrating the soon to be birth of his child. If you would’ve told him ten years ago that he would be “grandpa mav”, he probably would’ve laughed in your face. There was no way on earth that anyone, let alone a child of Bradley’s would be calling him “grandpa”. Those years of hatred and no communication seemed to be a distant memory now as Maverick watched the kid who was basically his son try to hold back tears while holding newborn onesies and baby blankets.

The baby shower was shark theme, which had to have been 100% Dragon’s idea, and Rooster went along with it. Dragon was at the point in her pregnancy where all Rooster could do was nod along and agree with her. So if was sharks that she wanted ontop of carrot cake cupcakes, than it was sharks on top of carrot cake cupcakes she got. It was moments like these, where Maverick could see the resemblance between Rooster and Goose. Two Bradshaw men who would’ve gone to the ends of the earth to make their partners happy.

“Last one!” Phoenix smiled, and handed Dragon a beat up old shoe box, “It’s from Mav.”

“You couldn’t have wrapped it!?” Penny scolded, lightly smacking her husband’s arm.

Pete just shrugged, “Adds character.” Penny rolled her eyes. Dragon chuckled, carefully removing the top. Her eyes widened for a moment, then she looked up to look at her husband.

“Rooster,” Dragon whispered, her eyes starting to fill with tears as she looked down at the contents of the box. Bradley leaned over her shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed, “Look.” Dragon handed him the shoebox, and he felt his breath get caught in his throat.

“Are these all from-”

“Your mom and Dad from various deployments. There’s some written after his death too,” Maverick said, “She promised me to keep that box for you.”

Rooster nodded, his eyes feeling the sting of tears, “Th-” He cleared his throat, “Thanks. I’ll have to read them.” Dragon grabbed his hand and squeezed it, “Thanks everyone for the gifts. It’s clear that Baby Bradshaw is gonna be one spoiled duck.”

“Hell yeah!” Jake cheered, raising his glass, only to be swatted by his wife for his language.

— — —

Later that night, after Bradley had joined Dragon for a bath, and rubbed her feet until she fell asleep, he grabbed that old, worn shoebox and sat down at the kitchen table. He poured himself a glass of scotch and grabbed his glasses, sitting in the orange glow from the light above the stove. There were probably a hundred letters in the shoebox, some of them bound together with a rubber band with notes on them. Carole had grouped together letters that were sent from when Goose was either at the academy, in flight school, or deployed. Bradley carefully ran his fingers over his parent’s handwriting as he shifted through the box, landing on one letter in particular.

‘Open when: you become a father

It was his mother’s handwriting, Bradley could tell by the curly tails of some of the letters. He gently opened the worn envelope that had a coffee stain on it, which always seemed to be a signature of Carole Bradshaw letter. Bradley could remember the various birthday and Easter cards that somehow had a coffee stain on the envelope. He unfolded the sheets of paper, and sucked in a breath as he began to read.

‘Dear Bradley,

If you are reading this it means two things, I am no longer with you. Though it is sad, you must remember that my earthly body is no longer there, but my soul remains with you always. The other thing that this means, is means you are about to be a father.

Your dad once told me the greatest thing to ever happen to him was becoming a father. Now, I thought he was lying to make me feel better about getting pregnant so young and when his career was just getting started, but he assured me that it was the truth. And for those three years, I got to watch him live up to that truth.

You might not remember a whole lot about your father, but he was a damn good one. Bradley, he loved you more than anything in the world. More than flying with Maverick, more than the Phillies, and more than apple pie on Sunday afternoons. He once told me that he could walk away from flying forever and be just fine because he would have you to fill his time.

I bet you are scared, and that’s okay. Goose was too, but do you know what he used to say about being scared? “What is life without a little fear? A life that is not one at all.” But I assure you, that parenthood is the best time of your life. There is nothing better than watching your child grow and become their own person. My favorite thing was watching you become an adult and spread your wings on your own. There comes a time in your life when you will sit back and say to yourself: “Yep. I did that.” as your child gets ready to leave the home and start a life of their own.

There are three simple rules to live by when it comes to being a parent:

Celebrate everything - no matter how big or small

Write down a note or two about the day, it’ll help you remember when you get old like me

Love can conquer all - remember to tell them that.

Oh, how I wish I could meet the person you fell for. Bradley, your heart is so big, I just know that whoever it is you met has a big heart just like you. You need someone to challenge you, someone who has the same spitfire and determination as you. Whomever it is, I hope you treat each other respectfully and always say I Love You before you leave for the day and every night. And remember no house is complete without an ironing board.

Bradley, I hate to leave this earth before you really get a chance to be on your own. It hurts me that you are about to walk into adulthood on your own and start a family without your own, but remember, I am always there. If you need me, turn to the sky, and I will guide you. We will both guide you.

We love you, Bradley.

Always have & Always will,

-love,

Mom.

P.s. I also found a letter that your dad wrote when we found out we were pregnant with you.

P.p.s I hope you can forgive Maverick one day. He only did what he thought was best.’

Bradley didn’t even know Dragon had walked into the kitchen until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and looked up at her, a small smile on her face. He pushed his chair back from the table and pulled her to sit down on his lap, his hand instantly resting on her protruding bump. Dragon gently cupped his cheek in her hand, wiping away a tear he didn’t know rolled down his cheek.

“You weren’t in bed,” Dragon mumbled, running a hand through his curls, “The baby wouldn’t settle down without you.”

“‘M sorry,” Bradley said, placing a kiss on her cheek, “Wanted to look through these.”

“Yeah?” Dragon asked and he nodded, “Do you care if I-?”

“Oh go ahead,” Bradley said, “I was just about to read this one from my dad. . . C-can you read it, actually? I don’t think I can.”

“Of course, baby,” Dragon said and picked up the letter. She smiled looking at the messy, yet familiar handwriting, “You two have the same handwriting,” She looked at his baby cow brown eyes, “Dear Baby Bradshaw,” Dragon read, “Wow, you two really have a lot in common.”

“Hush,” Bradley chuckled, “It’s not my fault my child is ‘camera shy’ and won’t tell us what they are.”

“‘Camera shy’ my ass,” Dragon rolled her eyes, mumbling the words that their midwife had told them about 10 weeks ago, “I ain’t ever heard of a Bradshaw being ‘camera shy’.”

“Must get it from their mama,” Bradley smiled.

“As long as they don’t come out with my attitude, I’ll be okay with that,” Dragon sighed, and continued reading, “‘Dear Baby Bradshaw, I would call you by your name if you had one, so Baby Bradshaw it is.

I’m writing this letter because I can’t sleep, my mind is too awake. I know I should be cashing in on the sleep before you get here, but there’s just too much going on.

We got to see you today and hear your heartbeat. It was nice and strong and had a sound that was even better than Great Balls of Fire. I could never tire of hearing your heartbeat. Next appointment I’m gonna have to record it so I can listen to you whenever I can. The doc said you were growing nicely, which is good. Your mom and I want you to grow big and strong.

We have been waiting for you for a long time. Your mom is probably a bit more than me. I’m not going to beat around the bush, when she told me she was pregnant, I got scared. Am I really ready to be a dad? Am I dad material? Can I be a good dad? I had a good dad growing up, he didn’t do more than what was expected of him. So I don’t really know what I have to do. I guess that’s something I will learn as we go.

I know your mom is just going to be the best. I’ve seen her with the young kids running around base, and it is one of those things that makes my heart flutter. She’s just a natural and the kids seemed to be drawn to her. She cares for them and makes them smile and giggle. She is already getting things set up for you and you aren’t even here! The poor woman is making my wallet hurt!

You are going to be so spoiled, not just by us but by your Uncle Maverick too. He’s already shown up with teddy bears and onesies and some child aviators, which I have no idea where he even got! I’m guessing it's got something to do with a certain Admiral’s daughter he’s been seeing. You didn’t hear this from me. . . but I think Penny might be the one for your ol’ uncle Mav. That is if he can ever settle down.

Hell, you might settle down and get married before your Uncle Mav ever does.

I gotta be honest with you for a second kid, I’m scared to be your father. I don’t have the most ideal job in the world. Flying planes with my best friend has been my everything (don’t tell your mother). It’s been one of the best parts of my life. I love being in the sky, watching the world from up above. I love knowing that I am protecting people. People who don’t have the means to fight for themselves. But being able to protect people comes with a risk. A risk that one day, those enemies might turn the page and come after me.

There might be a day when I am no longer on this earth with you, baby Bradshaw. It hurts to think about, leaving behind you and your mother, but it’s the harsh reality of doing something I love. But I promise you, if something were to happen to me, Baby Bradshaw, you will be taken care of. You will have all the means to get by. You and your mom will never have to worry, I can swear to you that. But Baby Bradshaw remember one thing:”

Bradley had hardly felt like he could cry for his father. He barely knew him and didn’t feel right to cry for a man he hardly knew. Plus, he had watched his mother cry for years and Bradley felt like he had to be strong for her. But now, sitting in the arms of the woman he loved, Bradley let years of pent-up grief out. Dragon held him tightly in her arms, as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. Bradley’s large hand rested on her belly, fingers splayed out as if he could protect the growing life inside her from the outside world. She gently ran her hand up and down his back, a trick she remembered her mother doing to her when she cried, to try and soothe him.

Dragon sniffled, and picked up the letter, reading the last line:

“I love you and I will always be with you, no matter where on this earth or in the sky I am.

-love your dad,

Goose’”

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @happypopcornprincess @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @lovelywiseprincess @diorrfairy @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @pono-pura-vida @dakotakazansky @starberryhorse @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @toobouquet @malindacath @badasspizzalover @sagittarius-flowerchild @hardballoonlove @harrysgothicbitch

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merchant-wizard-and-jerry · 2 months

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“Hello, I’m the friendly wizard _____. My name got taken by a fey prince but it hasn’t really hampered my life. Anyways I am new to this wider wizard community and would like to get along. I have a magic book, a cart, and a friend. His name is Jerry, he is a fungus colony that has taken over my magic book and acts sort of as my patron. He…is a little weird but great fun.”

*sound of an explosion in the background, a book flys by being chased by goblin shamans casting fire ball*

“He is…”

“He is fine.”

“Anyways, I am here to sell goods and make a small profit. If you need something I’ll see what I can do : ) ”

“Also apparently I helped smuggle an amnesiac @fattocatto-wizard out of the city in my wagon. That was a shock, though he was just a cat.

Character Cheat sheet

( 3 currency to 16 silver crowns and 2 copper crowns)

(Current balance 77,324.750001 currency, one penny, 23 meat pucks, 14 pounds, 2 gold coins one with Julius Cesar on it, 3 naturally-grown mana stones, 2 highly enchant able metal pieces, and one bar, 1 special bug corpse, 746 gold, silver 18, 70 aus, 5kg silver, magic dirt house size. 24 counterfeit currency. Moss/lichen-coded bio stone. An inverse cold torch. 99 BG silver. EMERALD LINCOLN, GOLDEN CARROT, 200 SALTED MEAT DISKS, 200 POLISHED ROCKS, 82 FIGET SPINNERS!, A FULLY EQUIPPED LICH'S DUNGEON, and a cardboard box (magic black marble).” Invisibility stone, a bundle of drake feathers, quantum locked rock, raw gold. 9 Gold coming from the green goblin empire, 50 mushrooms, 92 secret society emblem. 5 trans enchanted gold coins, 2 skull coin, ancient lost civilization fragment, 5 glistening green metallic coin, 31 writhing bugs of gold, jade coin. Pile of gold coins and gold coin bugs, pile of shines from harpy, dust, quantum glass shards, bag of tooth shaped candy, 6720 candies from the festival)

(Currently holding baby frost dragon.)

(Jerry’s balance 13 gold, a fancy rock, 1 coin, flower petals (snacks for later), harpy eyes, feathers, vocal cords, and talons)

(Warlocks of Jerry @fungal-boy-witch-yay @ignisuadaroleplay @life-is-okay-rn2 I think that is who it was…)

(Possessions - wealth stone, Antidote stone)

Owner of membership cards

——————————

@the-final-knight-2

@confused-sorcerer

@bi-gender-sorcerer

@the-mighty-dalob

@detectivewizzard

@goblin-wizard-in-the-making

@serious-tabaxi

@weltreths-wanderings

@ignisuadaroleplay (will)

@shittest-wizard-ever

@wizard-wylin-wylerian

@akronus-and-associates (the primordials)

—————————————

@hallowed-the-silver-gun

@jormungand-seas-champion

@crow-natures-wrath

@antros-ember-of-fear

@akronus-the-redeemed

@clockwork-time-watcher

@aldira-born-anew

——————————

@wizard-ghost

@yeast-wizard

@crickled-thorn-thug

———

Perks

———

5% off all purchases

Special requested items

More favorable bartering

———

#wizardposting #wizard posting #wizard #wizard tumblr #wizard shit #wizard island island

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see-arcane · 1 year

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My heart keeps finding new ways to break and sympathy-panic for Jonathan with today’s entry. Because, God. God. How could he ever have expected this? How could he ever have prepared for anything like this?

He was just on a business trip. His very first. Important, certainly! For his future, for his mentor, for his life with Mina. But now, somehow, his entire life has been broken at the neck and detoured down into this impossible scenario ripped from a sordid penny dreadful. Even as he plans and prays and tries to keep a stranglehold on his sanity and hope, the thought has to be there:

“This is it for me. This is really it. I’ll never see Mina again. I am going to live out the rest of my life here, in this cold stone box with all its monsters. I am going to be used and preyed upon by an inhuman Thing that used to be a client and is now my owner.”

(This man belongs to me.)

“I am going to have every last comfort and freedom and choice stripped away by him. I am going to be handed over to three demons with women’s faces to be used as a living winepress. I am going to die. And there are very good, very horrifying odds that death will not free me.”

(Yes, I too can love.)

Yes, he loves. And he keeps all the ones he’s loved before bound in this castle like his personal dragon’s hoard.

Jonathan will try, of course. He’ll do everything he can to try and escape. To live. To beat the nightmare or at least hold off its climax until maybe, please God, he can wake up safe and away and in Mina’s arms.

But the thought is there. The rational, odds-figuring thought that, in this scenario, every single factor is stacked against him on a supernatural level. And his hope will likely drain from him long before the blood does.

#weeping wailing and howling over my good friend Jonathan Harker #he just wanted to do a good job!#he wanted to make his mentor proud and take his first big step toward a foundation that he and Mina could get married with!#he wanted to bring home recipes and ghost stories and all the details of a great trip to Mina!#that's it! that's all!#and now this #jonathan harker #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily

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goldensunset · 1 month

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i love n but looking at his final team in bw again it is. so bad. peace and love <3 but also i think it’s such a great detail

like it makes perfect sense in the story that the guy who doesn’t even like being a trainer, whose whole goal is to put an end to pokémon battling, would be bad at battling. cuz it’s not like he has a lot of experience with it. yeah he didn’t build a competitive team he’s just doing this with his friends kinda like penny. the previous times you fight him he uses only the random pokémon he finds around him like he’s just summoning the nearby forces of nature for aid like a disney prince or something. in the end he’s got a random medley of mons and the only logical explanation is those are the ones he’s had around for a long time and was always going to stick with

like so what if 2/3 of his final team are weak to fighting, 1/2 are weak to steel, 1/2 are weak to ground, etc. it’s whatever. those are the friends he happens to have and he’s loyal to them. so what if their abilities are either useless with how he uses them (illusion, plus) or an active hindrance (defeatist). so what if he doesn’t even have a dragon type move on zekrom/reshiram they can use either whatever they want to use idk man. no held items? no problem. he’s not about that artificial sweetener microplastic man-made item life they are living like nature

basically like he isn’t gonna judge them for who they are or what they wanna do. they’re his allies not his tools he’s not going to betray his ideals even for the sake of having a better shot at winning. it’s his friends or nothing

like. n is the guy who looks at the small picture of things over the big picture. he was never going to be able to beat the player and become the true reigning champion and hero of unova who has the authority to shut down trainerdom forever without approaching that battle with a strategic mindset and/or boxing his friends. he sacrifices his larger goal because he would never want to be the hypocrite who treats his own pokémon like tools while preaching that other people shouldn’t

(makes him like the exact opposite of ghetsis who’s strong yet evil while preaching goodness. who in fact directly benefits from abusing his pokémon (max frustration hydreigon, enough said))

and in turn like… he definitely knew this. he talks a big game but there’s no way that in his heart he didn’t already understand that he was gonna lose to the player. like @claitea once pointed out in this post the archeops with the defeatist ability for example is kind of symbolic here. n is a smart guy he must’ve figured out like halfway through the game that he wasn’t strong enough, that it just wasn’t meant to be for him, that ghetsis didn’t really see him as capable or worthy of respect, something like that. and his ideals were wavering anyway after having seen the truth about trainers and their pokémon out in the world. in his heart he had already half given up but was too stubborn to admit it, much like anthea says

the other way to interpret this of course is that since ghetsis has been introducing n to all these pokémon that have been abused (perhaps even abused *because* they were weak) in order to manipulate his heart, n has been taking care of these guys in particular and therefore has been closely bonding with them as the friends he wants to battle with. you could say ghetsis also has an incentive to ensure that n’s team isn’t strong enough to defeat his own in case n decided to revolt, thus he wanted to introduce him to a bunch of super weak pokémon. and again like @claitea says it’s odd that n would have a fossilmon like why would he have a fossil or go somewhere to revive it. decent chance he got that from ghetsis

but also like ghetsis did want n to be the strongest trainer in the region so he probably was hoping n would still do better than that. it could just be that ghetsis’ plan therefore backfired terribly bc oops you taught your son to love and defend all the weakest and least loved pokémon regardless of what they could provide for people and then they failed to provide for him. go figure

so either ghetsis apparently thought n’s team was good enough for him to give his son the green light to go ahead like that (which like. he was almost right except the player is built different) or he secretly really was banking on n losing. so that he had an excuse to toss him out like trash at the last second because that was his plan anyway

tldr feel free to disagree with any of these points or interpretations etc but like i LOVE it when they prioritize subtle storytelling and characterization over objective quality when building characters’ teams

#this has been in my drafts for a month lol #pokémon #bw #pokemon black and white #natural harmonia gropius #n harmonia #pokemon #pokémon black and white

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maleficentmrsofallevil · 3 months

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Swapping blind box 1/12 BJD heads

And this is why we love these affordable little dolls so much. Other than the fact that they are playline prices, of course.

Kokoya head versus Penny's Box head.

The wig adaptor doesn't fit on Kokoya well.

But the Kokoya head fits on the Penny's Box body just fine. And same for the Simon's Toys BJD:

But totally swappable, without needing to change the head adaptors (takes a little fiddling):

Voila! Penny's Box head on Simon Toys body, Simon Toys head on Kokoya body, and Kokoya head on Penny's Box body. Easily swappable. Endlessly customizable.

And CHEAP.

See that tummy seam? All Penny's Box BJDs have the same abdomen. You can swap legs for mermaid tails, dragon tails, or centaur bodies with a little restringing. And the wig adaptor works on all Penny's Box heads - which is another reason why many of us are obsessed with these little dolls. And did I mention they were CHEAP? $20. You can't beat that deal with a stick.

@bealittleimprobable - Part 2 for you.

#dollblr #bjd

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alanaartdream · 4 months

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Dragons 🐉 are a theme I am trying to draw until it’s Chinese new year 🧧 because it’s gonna be the year of the wood 🪵 dragon 🐉

So my trolls oc trollsona has a tiny little eastern style dragon in her messy fluffy hair and I am super excited to get blind box dolls by the creators of some of the Penny’s box bjd blind box dolls witch are being listed / sold on @kikagoods website right now under the tile Adou-Loong Fantasia seriess Action figure bjd blind box

Because these are DRAGON 🐉 themed dolls (most likely to do with 2024 being the year of the dragon)

I’m trying for 2 and hopefully the 2 I get I’ll like them ( I mean I like the look of all of them so far but I haven’t seen them in person yet so we will see once I get 2 to Australia 🇦🇺)

#trolls #trollsona #adou Loong fantasia series #dragon dolls #dolls #the year of the dragon #penny’s box antu #penny’s box bjd #penny’s box dolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls oc #my drawings #my artwork #my art #my sketches #chibi cartoon

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 9 months

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You did some Jaune asks. Maybe now Dragonslayer???

Dragonslayer? You got it.

check under the cut

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Yang: (wearing a metal bucket on her head and taped together cardboard boxes as armor) DIE FOUL BEAST AND ALLOW THE PRINCE AND PRINCESSES TO BE FREE ONCE MORE!!!

Tian, Yin, & Keir: (from their treehouse) Save us, Sir Dagon!!!

Yang: (starts whacking at the homemade, wooden red dragon with a foam Minecraft sword)

Blake & Weiss: (watching from the back patio and drinking tea/coffee)

Weiss: There are days where I envy your choice in wife.

Blake: Why?

Weiss: (looks over to where Ruby is trying to teach their 6 month old how to read a weapon schematic)

Ruby: Okay, Penny, this is what we call a bolt-action. sniper. rifle.

Weiss: (sighs) Why do I love that dolt.

Tian, Yin, & Keir: (on Yang's shoulders as she steps on the tipped over dragon) Yay! Sir Dagon the Dragon Slayer!!!

Blake: The same reason why I love my blonde himbo of a wife.

Weiss & Blake: They make us happy.

#thanks anon #dragon slayer #ruby rose #weiss schnee #white rose #yang xiao long #bumbleby #blake belladonna #malicious compliance #ask me for dragonslayer again and I'll make the next jaune blurb I write angsty

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arc-misadventures · 1 year

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What are Those?! AU: After finding out that Jaune hoards gems how many of the girls decide to try and use gemstones to try and get into his bed

Diamonds Are A Dragons Prize

Pyrrha: Hey, guys how’s it…

Weiss: I don’t care who the hell your gem grader was father! I had the, Lapidary Master himself graded all of my diamonds, and he identified that almost all of them are fake! They’re not diamonds, they’re Cubic Zirconia! Fake Diamonds! So you will bring all of our precious gems, Mom’s, Winters, yours, and even mine to, Beacon, right here, right now! Before your precious net value plummets even further then it already has!

(Beep.)

Weiss: Prick…

Pyrrha: Uhhh… D-Did I miss something…?

Blake: Oh, we learned, Jaune hoards precious gems; diamonds, rubies, and the like. So people have been giving him precious stones as a… dowery of sorts. But, Jaune apparently is super rich because he owns several mining companies that mine specifically, precious stones. So, Jaune has been inspecting, giving people prices, and proof of their stones value instead.

Pyrrha: And, he did that for, Weiss’s diamonds as well?

Blake: Yeah, for her ‘diamonds.’

Weiss: My fakes! Tens of thousands of Lien were spent collecting diamonds, and other precious gems for my family. I brought approximately 67,000 Lien worth of diamonds with me to, Beacon!

Ruby: 67,000?! You had that much money kept in a simple latch lock box in our bathroom?!

Weiss: Well the fuck does that matter now?! 67,000?! I’ve got less than three grand of real diamonds in that chest! My father bought fakes! Millions of Lien worth of fakes!

Pyrrha: Oh, so that’s why she’s so upset.

Nora: Yeah, it’d be like if I had a mountain of pancakes, and they were all foam…

Blake: That… Sounds like a, Nora analogy.

Pyrrha: She’s been having nightmares about it for the past week…

Ruby: It’d be like having a dream about eating chocolate chip cookies, and it turns they’re all oatmeal raisin…

BP: …

Pyrrha: So where’s, Yang?

Ruby: Hmm? Oh she was taking a engagement ring, Dad gave her mother foe, Jaune to grade it. She wanted to know if it had any worth to it.

Nora: Is she going to sell it?

Ruby: I think she said something about seeing if mom abandoned something else of value besides her, and dad.

Pyrrha: Ohh…

Blake: Uhh…

Weiss: …

Nora: Nice~!

Ruby: Yeah… Yang’s mom is… is something else…

Yang: And, a fucking idiot~!

Ruby: Yang, you’re back!

Pyrrha: Hello, Yang, good news I take it?

Yang: Hell yeah~! Jaune just apprised this wedding ring I have, and he gave me one hell of a price on it~!

Pyrrha: Oh, how much?

Yang: Well, Jaune described it as a: Light yellow diamond, Class Z. 3 carats in weight. Custom Cut. Valued at approximately, 30,000 Lien~!

Pyrrha: Oh my gods…

Ruby: W-W-What…?!

Nora: How many pancakes could I eat with that…?

Weiss: 3-3-30,000…?! M-My diamonds were nearly 70,000. Then, Jaune graded them, a-and it turn out most of them were fake! A-And, I only have 3000 Lien… and, you just go there with some rinky dink ring… and it’s worth ten times that?!

Yang: Yeah, pretty much.

Weiss: …

Weiss: Ah-ha…? Ha. Hahahaha! Ahh-hahahahahaha!

RBYNP: …

Weiss: AHH-haaaaaaa…

Ruby: Got you, Weiss!

Nora: Whoops, she fainted again…

Pyrrha: Again?

Blake: Yeah, she fainted yesterday when she found out, how, and why, Jaune was super rich.

Pyrrha: I best ask him about that…

Blake: Don’t touch his rocks, he’ll gut you if you try.

Pyrrha: W-What…?

Nora: So, Yang; You gonna make a pretty penny, or are you going to keep that?

Yang: Yep~! I’m gonna keep it though. There’s too much sentimental value to get rid of it.

Ruby: Are sure about that…?

Yang: I’m sure; besides if, Jaune picks me as one of his wives, I’m gonna ask him to give it to me as my engagement ring.

Ruby: Oh, that’s ni… Wait! Y-You want become, Jaune’s wife?!

Yang: Well, one of them, I don’t really mind sharing.

Ruby: But, why? Why do you want to marry, Jaune?

Yang: I’ll admit it, I’ve always had a thing for, Jaune. He’s cute, caring, supportive, handsome, and just a really sweet person… I wasn’t going to act on my feels, I was going to let them fade away because, Pyrrha had claim on him, and I’m not the kind of girl to steal another girls man. But, since he’s more, or less open game because of the harem thing… Well, I’ve decided to throw my hat in the ring. Unless… You don’t want me to, Pyrrha…?

Pyrrha: Shoot… I owe, Nora fifty Lien…

Nora: Whoo! Pancake money!

Yang: Wait, did you make a bet on me?

Pyrrha: On whether, or not you liked, Jaune. I bet against, and lost. I just though he wasn’t your type.

Yang: Well, he is! So… Do you mind…?

Pyrrha: Not at all, I wouldn’t mind you joining us at all.

Yang: R-Really?!

Pyrrha: However, it’s his choice to make not mine. So, good luck winning him over.

Yang: Sounds fun~! So, speaking of you, and Jaune~!

Pyrrha: What about it?

Blake: What was it like?

Pyrrha: Oh, that? Well, do you really want me to tell you what happened, or do you want to find that our yourself~?

Yang: Mmmmm… Nooo… I rather be surprised really…

Blake: But, since he put you out of commission for a while; I’d like to know what to expect.

Ruby: Well I don’t! Bye!

(Slam!)

Yang: Good. She’s not ready for such things…

Pyrrha: Well, you know about his tongue, and how long it’s is~!

BY: Yes…

Pyrrha: Well, lets just say he can get it really deep inside of you: Really deep~!

Blake: How deep…?

Pyrrha: Oh, you’ll feel how deep he can get it~!

Blake: And, what is it like, is it more human, or is more faunas…?

Yang: Faunas?

Blake: Depending on the faunas, they sometimes have more… animal bits.

Yang: S-Seriously?! I thought that was some sort of racist talking point?!

Blake: Yeah… There’s a bit of truth to every stereotype. We don’t like to talk about it, because its… It’s just uncomfortable to talk about for all of us.

Yang: I-Is, Jaune like that…?!

Nora: Nope! It’s a perfectly normal human penis!

BYP: …

Yang: H-How do you know that…?

Pyrrha: Nora, likes to peek on us in the shower…

Yang: Oh, okay… So, uhh… what is it like?

Pyrrha: I’ll just say this… He’ll ruin you for all other men, forever, and you’ll love it~!

BY: NICE!!!

~~~

Ruby: Hey, Jaune!

Jaune: Hi, Ruby.

Ruby: How goes the gem collecting?

Jaune: I’ve found some interesting gems, like this one.

Ruby: Whoa… That’s beautiful… What is this…?

Jaune: That is a, Moss Agate Opal. One of my sister’s likes to wear these, so I got it for her.

Ruby: Aww, how sweet of you.

Jaune: I may like my stones, but I love my family even more…

Ruby: You don’t sound so certain on that.

Jaune: Depends on the stones…

Ruby: Okay…

: Excuse me, would you take a look at this?

Jaune: Oh, of course! Allow me to… Well hello there~!

Ruby: What is it?

Jaune: Oh, aren’t you a beautiful little thing~!

Ruby: Is that a sapphire?

Jaune: Hmm?! No! No not even close.

Ruby: Then what is it?

Jaune: While it may appear like one, but this isn’t anywhere close to a sapphire.

Ruby: Then what is it?

Jaune: Tanzanite, one of the rarest gems you can find. It doesn’t have the same value as a diamond, but they can only be found in one place, hence the rarity. And, considering where that is, they tend to hoard them.

Ruby: Where’s that?

Jaune: Menagerie. Isn’t that right, Miss…?

: Sienna, Sienna Khan, High Leader of the White Fang.

Jaune: Hmmm. Well, this is certainly one fine introduction letter. So, what can I do for you, Miss Khan?

Sienna: Oh so many things, my King. Oh so many things~!

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #weiss schnee #ruby rose #sienna khan #jaune x yang #yang x jaune #pyrrha x jaune #jaune x pyrrha #rwby arkos #rwby dragonslayer

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msweebyness · 2 months

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Miraculous Barbie: Nathaniel as Rapunzel

Here it is, the first entry in my Barbie movie adaptation series, with Nath in the lead role! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

"Love and imagination can change the world."

CAST:

Nathaniel Kurtzberg as Rapunzel

Marc Anciel as Prince Stefan

Alix Kubdel as Penelope

Petra Markov as Hobie

Cash as Gothel

Phillipe as Otto

Alim Kubdel as Hugo

Penny & Alyssa Anciel- King Frederick/Stefan’s Mother

Kiran Anciel as Princess Katrina

Aya Kurtzberg as King Wilhelm

And so our story begins…

In a manor deep in the woods, there lived a young man named Nathaniel, fair as they came with long, beautiful red hair that reached to the floor.

The manor was concealed from the outside world, not only by the dark and monster-filled forest, but by a magic wall that stretched high into the sky, so high you couldn’t even see the top!

It was here that Nathaniel lived, working as a housekeeper for Cash, a callous and cold nobleman who was skilled in dark sorcery. Nathaniel was expected to keep the house in perfect order, with every nook and cranny spotless and a boatload of chores every day.

Nathaniel had been told by Cash that he was abandoned at only a few days old in the woods, and had been raised by Cash as his own since then, and that it was for this reason that maintaining the house was the least he could do. (Cash also had his sleazy pet ferret, Phillipe, who was a constant nuisance.)

Nathaniel had lived most of his life as a servant, but at the very least he had his art supplies to pursue his greatest passion: painting! His room was filled with beautiful images he had created with his brushes, many of the kinds of places he wishes to see someday. He also wasn’t lonely, because he had his two best friends. Alix, a young dragon who would one day be bound to serve Cash as her father, Alim did. And Petra, an anxious but well-meaning rabbit.

Daring and restless as she was, Alix longed for nothing more than to fly over the top of the magic wall and soar over the lands beyond. But Alim forbade it, positing that his daughter was too young and too inexperienced a flyer, which frustrated Alix to no end. Petra would often use her sensitive hearing to alert Nathaniel when Cash is returning so he can put his painting away, as the man often derides it as a “waste of time”.

One day, while Nathaniel is preparing Cash’s tea, Alix, while trying to use her still developing fire-breath to assist, accidentally knocks into a statue, which opens a passageway to a secret lower level of the manor. Nathaniel goes down to explore it, followed by an eager Alix and a nervous Petra. While down in the foreboding cellar, they discover invitations to various balls addressed to Cash…and an old painting of him with a red-haired woman, whose face has been slashed out.

But their most intriguing discovery by far, is an old ornate box containing a gorgeous and intricate silver hairbrush. What’s most striking about it is the inscription on the back: “Constant as the stars above, always know that you are loved. To our dearest son, Nathaniel, on his first birthday. With love forever, Mother and Father.” This confuses Nathaniel as it conflicts with the story he’d always been told by Cash.

He’s interrupted from considering this further when Cash calls for him, vowing to return later and investigate the room, as Petra and Alix work to get the room back in order, placing things back where they found them. But Nathaniel takes the silver brush with him. It says it belongs to him after all!

When Cash lays down for his afternoon rest, Nathaniel returns to the secret cellar, still thinking about the message on the brush. But when Petra accidentally startles Alix, causing her to punch a hole in the floorboards with her foot, Nathaniel discovers a secret tunnel that seems to lead away from the manor! Assuring his friends he’ll return soon, he goes to investigate.

Emerging from the tunnel, Nathaniel finds himself just outside a lovely little village that sits by a beautiful castle. Deciding to explore, he meets many of the villagers and is surprised by how friendly everyone seems to be. He almost feels at home here, even though he’s never left the manor before, and he finds himself wanting to stay and see more!

Meanwhile, back at the manor, Alix and Petra are worrying about their friend, waiting anxiously for him to return. Alix is contemplating flying over the magic wall to go try and find Nathaniel, when Petra alerts her that her father has arrived and is looking for her. Alix goes outside to meet him, and the two have the same argument they have many a day about her being too young to fly over the wall, leading Alix to storm off angrily as she’s still worrying about her best friend.

As Nathaniel goes for a walk by the river, he happens upon three children playing in a grove, the young Prince Kiran, and his two friends, Chris and Manon. But when Kiran goes over to fetch some apples from a tree for their horse, he falls into a pit trap in the ground, dangling above a deadly tangle of briars! Nathaniel rushes over to help, while Chris and Manon ride to find help as well. Nathaniel gets ahold of Kiran’s hand and manages to pull him up, only to lose his balance and nearly fall in himself! But someone catches him just in time…

It’s then that Nathaniel meets Prince Marc, Kiran’s older brother, who thanks him for helping the boy. While the children ride off to continue playing, Marc and Nathaniel begin to talk. Nathaniel states that this is his first time in the village and it’s certainly been exciting. Marc then asks if he comes from the kingdom of Queen Aya, explaining to a curious Nathaniel that she was the one who had ordered the pit trap to be set, going on to explain the years-long feud between her and the rulers of this kingdom, Queen Penelope and Queen Alyssa, who Aya claimed had done something unforgivable to her. Nathaniel asks why they can’t just talk and clear the air, but Marc sadly posits that they seem to be long past the point that that’s a possibility.

Hearing the three children begin to argue, Marc goes to check on them, as Nathaniel hears the clock in the village chime and realizes he needs to hurry back to the manor! Marc returns to find that Nathaniel has already left, wondering if he’ll get to see him again and realizing they never even exchanged names, but unbeknownst to them both…Phillipe happened to be wandering the village that day, and spotted Nathaniel, ready to report to his master!

Meanwhile, back in the manor, Nathaniel tells Alix and Petra all about the village and how wonderful it was. He tells them about the man he met, but when Alix asks his name, Nathaniel comes to the same realization that Marc did…just as Cash enters, inquiring if he had a pleasant trip today. Nathaniel asks the man why he never told him about the village, and is told that it was for his own safety, to protect him from the ‘evils’ there.

Cash then demands the name of the young man Nathaniel met in the village, but when Nathaniel tells him he doesn’t know, Cash accuses him of lying. When Nathaniel repeats that he doesn’t know because he didn’t have time to ask, Cash uses his magic to demolish Nathaniel’s paintings and his art supplies. When Alix and Petra try to defend Nathaniel, Cash threatens to harm them with his magic until Nathaniel insists they don’t know anything, and quickly sends them away. He tells Cash that he can’t keep him locked away forever, and in response, Cash transforms Nathaniel’s room into a tower, with no door. He calls for Alim, who he instructs to guard the tower, and tells Nathaniel that when he returns, he expects to be told the name of that young man.

Back in the village, Marc is returning to the palace, promising to help Kiran with his archery once he finishes speaking with their mothers. He enters the throne room where Queen Penelope asks if he’s had any luck finding the young man who saved Kiran, as they would like to express their thanks. When Marc reveals he hasn’t seen the redhead anywhere, Queen Alyssa wonders if he could be one of Aya’s spies. Marc doesn’t believe so, or else he wouldn’t have risked his life for Kiran. It’s reported by a page that there was no sign of Aya’s forces. Alyssa prepares to lead her own raid and tells Marc to be ready. He agrees, but something is clearly on his mind…

Returning to the manor, Nathaniel is still trapped and is now suffering from nightmares. But as he wakes from one, he reads the inscription on the back of the silver hairbrush, and resolves that one day, he will be free. But as he’s sleeping that night, the hairbrush is magically transformed…into a paintbrush.

The next day, Cash visits the village in disguise and learns that there is to be a ball for the elder prince’s birthday, while the knights of the kingdom report to Marc that they still haven’t had any luck finding the young man with the long red hair. Just at that moment, Marc and his mothers ride into the village to discover the aftermath of a terrible attack by Queen Aya’s men. Unbeknownst to them, Cash faked the attack with his magic, wanting to hurry a declaration of war along.

Back at the manor, Alix and Petra are using berries, vegetables and leaves from the garden to make new paints for Nathaniel, while contemplating how they could possibly help him escape. They bring the new paint to Nathaniel, who is incredibly grateful and discovers the transformed brush. But when he goes to use it on the wall, he discovers that it creates the images in his mind, without him even needing paint! And when a butterfly flies out of the image he painted of the village, and then Petra seems to fall through it, that’s when he discovers that this magical paintbrush can create portals…

When Nathaniel passes through the painting/portal, he ends up in the same grove where he met Marc…who just so happens to be there eating lunch, and is ecstatic to see him again! It’s then that Marc finally learns Nathaniel’s name, but Nathaniel insists that it’s better if he doesn’t learn Marc’s just yet. The prince is confused but agrees.

Nathaniel then shows Marc the paintbrush, asking if he can help find out who made it, in the hopes that that person may know who his parents are. Marc takes him to the silversmith, who recognizes the brush as the work of his brother, who unfortunately lives in Aya’s kingdom and who he misses terribly, as no one has gone between the two kingdoms since the beginning of the feud. Nathaniel is disheartened, but resolves to keep looking.

Back at the manor, Petra hears Cash approaching, and Alix panics, knowing that it he comes to the tower to discover Nathaniel gone, her father will pay the price! Petra goes to stall Cash while Alix travels through the painting to find Nathaniel.

Back at the palace gardens, Nathaniel gives Marc an invitation to the Masked Ball in honor of ‘the prince’s’ birthday, and Nathaniel agrees to come. Just then, Alix appears in the garden, through the painting/portal, and Marc draws his sword, thinking she’s dangerous because, well, dragon! But Nathaniel assures him Alix is his friend. Alix pleads with Nathaniel to return to the tower at least long enough that Cash won’t punish her father, and Nathaniel agrees, promising to return for the ball. He paints a portal back to the tower, arriving just in time.

Now back in the tower, Cash demands once again to know the name of the man Nathaniel met, and once again is told he doesn’t know. Angry, Cash tells the boy he can rot in the tower for all he cares. Nathaniel tells Alix that they all need to leave that night, and Alix must convince her father to come too.

Back at the palace, Marc is taking a stroll with Queen Penelope, and hesitantly asks if he might be permitted to invite Queen Aya as a gesture of good will, a step toward ending the feud. Penelope refuses, telling him peaceful resolutions are impossible with all that’s been done. This was the answer Marc had feared, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Back in the tower, Nathaniel uses the magical paintbrush to create a beautiful violet gown for himself, with Alix and Petra presenting him with an intricate mask to match the dress. But just at that moment, Cash appears and compliments Nathaniel, only to cut his long red hair off, and destroy both the painting/portal and the magical brush. He then casts an enchantment on the tower: "Tower, tower, do your part, never release your prisoner with a lying heart! Here for as these words are spoken, this fearsome spell can never be broken!" Blaming Alim for allowing Nathaniel to escape once again, he chains the dragon to the tower with magic. He then leaves to attend the ball, disguising himself as Nathaniel using the hair he sheared from the boy.

Back at the palace, Queen Aya has arrived in secret and is planning to launch an attack to make Queens Alyssa and Penelope pay for what she believes they’ve done, once and for all!

It’s then that Cash arrives at the ball, disguised as Nathaniel, and is spotted by Marc. Marc follows him and is led into the castle’s hedge maze, only for Cash to reveal himself, letting Nathaniel’s long red hair fall to the ground. Marc demands to know what the man has done with Nathaniel, but Cash only fires at him with his magic, forcing Marc to flee.

Alix goes to visit Alim, and begs him to help her help Nathaniel, explaining how the boy came back to prevent Cash from killing her father for letting him escape. Alim theorizes that if Nathaniel hasn’t been lying to Cash about knowing Marc’s name, then the spell shouldn’t keep him in the tower. So Alix flies up to Nathaniel, and sure enough, he’s able to pass through the magical barrier. While Alim is still apprehensive about his daughter being ready to go over the wall, he understands it’s what must be done, and Alix flies over it for the first time, carrying Nathaniel and Petra to the palace to try and stop Cash.

Back at the palace, Cash continues to pursue Marc, being sidetracked by Kiran and the other children. He fires a spell at Kiran, only for Marc to pull him out of the way, stalling Cash by dropping a banner on him. Meanwhile, in the ballroom, Queen Aya arrives and engages in a battle of swords with Queen Alyssa, while Queen Penelope evacuates all the guests.

Cash then enters the ballroom, and Aya recognizes him, with Marc questioning this. Aya explains that she knew him many years ago, they had been good friends. This infuriates Cash, who proclaims that they were more than friends, that they had been in love. Aya states that she was never in love with him, she saw him as a brother, and Cash states that she will pay for this ‘once again’, which confuses Aya.

Instead of explaining, Cash asks Queen Penelope why she and her wife despise Aya, with the Queen stating that Aya attacked their kingdom and people without cause, which is furiously refuted with the claim that they had stolen her son, which Queen Alyssa angrily denies. Cash then reveals that Alyssa is telling the truth…he stole the young prince. A furious Aya demands to know where he took Nathaniel, with Marc immediately recognizing the name. Cash states that where he is doesn’t matter as she will never see him again.

Only for Nathaniel himself to arrive with Alix and Petra just as Cash is about to blast everyone with his magic, demanding that he stop making everyone suffer. Cash refuses and blasts the chandelier, setting the ballroom ablaze, with Marc helping Nathaniel to escape. The two, along with Alix and Petra, lead Cash into the gardens, tricking him into entering the painting/portal of the tower Nathaniel left behind earlier.

With Cash now imprisoned forever due to all the lies he has told, the battle has been won. Nathaniel reunites with Aya, who apologizes to Alyssa and Penelope for all the trouble she caused them. The Queens accept her apology, knowing they would have been just as distraught if Marc was stolen from them.

Speaking of which, Nathaniel and Marc got to know each other better and started a beautiful relationship that lasted for five years before they were happily married and moved into their own castle by the sea, with Alix, Petra and Alim all living the good life there.

And they all lived happily ever after!

Their love will be Constant as the Stars Above! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs, and watch for the next installment!

youtube

#miraculous ladybug #Miraculous Barbie #nathaniel kurtzberg #Marc anciel #Nathmarc #barbie as rapunzel #rapunzel #Youtube

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vulture-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

Alright so this request was done for the lovely @thepokemaniac, I would have responded directly to the ask but it was so long it was breaking my Tumblr lmao

Hassel X Male Reader

____ is the sweet-and-shy chemistry teacher at the Academy. It was easy to assume he'd never battled in his life, but he's quite the dragon tamer... And Hassel's family troubles provoke him like nothing else.

Reader is not the SV protagonist. He is a teacher at the academy who specializes in dragon types. His full team is explicitly mentioned - He has a Haxorus, a Druddigon, a Tyrantrum, a Turtonator, a Duraludon and a final surprise Pokemon ;). Reader is mentioned to be younger than Hassel at one point, but their age difference is nothing too wild. Think 5-6 years.

Contains: Mentions of homophobia, reader was disowned by family, descriptions of heavy scarring and mentions of past severe injury, a lot of family drama, like a lot, mentions of arranged marriage

Oh, the bell. The saving grace of students, and the worst enemy of teachers.

It was another normal day at the Academy - recently two new teachers had been instated, which certainly livened up the place. Nurse Miriam was finally a health teacher, much to her joy, and made a welcome addition to the humanities branch. The second addition was the new chemistry teacher, Mr. ____. He was part of the STEM track, though also did tutoring after school for anyone who wanted it.

Mr. ____ was a very cheerful man. He was patient with his students and doted on his Pokemon, even if they were massive and terrifying dragon types. He was from Hoenn, and loved to share trivia about the places he'd visited before settling down in Paldea.

And that was all anybody knew about him.

Nobody was lucky enough to unearth his mysterious past, nor was anybody fortunate enough to hear the story of how he'd lost his left eye. And ____ was quite content with that fact.

Today his class had been conducted out in the yard - the latest experiment he and his students worked on was quite... messy. He didn't want to destroy his classroom. Medusa, ____'s looming Haxorus, was his loyal lab assistant. She had a special labcoat on and everything.

"Alright, guys, the bell means class is up! Make sure to give your goggles to Medusa before you head out!" ____ began to sort his things, cleaning up a bit. Medusa plodded around the various tables that had been set up, carrying a box for the safety goggles to be dropped in.

Students milled about for a bit, mostly cleaning up their belongings before heading out - either to go to their next classes or back to their dorms. ____ was good at making sure everything got cleaned up once he was done, which was the main reason Clavell allowed him to do messier experiments.

"Mr. ____?" ____ looked up when one of his students spoke. Florian was a very soft-spoken lad who always paired up with his classmate Penny during labs - they were excellent students, even if they weren't very talkative. The look in his eyes made ____ pause a moment. He looked nervous. Was he about to ask about...?

"What can I do for you, Florian?" ____ cocked his head to the side.

"I just wanted to ask..." Oh boy, here it comes. ____ had to deflect another question about himself... He always felt so awful doing it. He didn't want to burden his students with his past. "...How did you meet Medusa? The Axew line isn't native to Hoenn, so I was really curious."

"Oh!" ____ wasn't expecting that. "Haha, it's a funny story, really... I met her as she is now, a big ol' Haxorus. She was stomping around in the Pokemon Sanctuary in Unova, causing a bit of a ruckus, so I went in with Hyacinthus to try and nab her. She was a toughie, certainly gave me a run for my money! But now she's my big baby. Aren't you?"

____ gave his Haxorus loving scratches under her tusks, careful to avoid the sharp edges. Medusa purred, lifting her head to give him more room for pets. Florian chuckled - it was quite funny to see such a menacing Pokemon melt into her trainer's hands.

"Cool. That was all I wanted to ask... Thanks!" Florian waved gleefully.

"No problem - I'll see you next class!" ____ waved him off, and was eventually left alone with his Pokemon. He didn't have any more classes today, so he might as well go see his favorite person at the Academy...

After he folded up all the tables, anyways.

Humming a soft melody, ____ plucked a love ball out of his bag, tossing it up into the air casually. In a lovely burst of light and heart-shaped confetti, his Druddigon emerged. His Rocky Helmet bounced a bit as he shook his head, stretching out his wings.

"Would you mind helping with the tables, Hyacinthus?" ____ asked, gently fixing Medusa's Muscle Band after he helped her get her coat off. Hyacinthus nodded, snorting noisily as he got to work. With a pair of hands and two pairs of claws, cleaning was a hell of a lot easier.

All was said and done in a few minutes, and both of the dragons were given a poffin and plenty of affection as thanks. ____ returned them to their balls, finally setting off to go visit the Art Classroom.

____ had met Hassel when he was at his lowest point. The chemistry teacher had no family to turn to, and was mournfully alone in life... Even his dragons couldn't dig him out of his slump. It was funny what love could do to you.

Hassel was the only man who knew why ____ had left Hoenn, and he'd sworn to keep it a secret. He was the only man who knew the origin of his lost eye, and he'd never told the tale to anyone. It was no wonder ____ was so deeply enamored with him.

He could remember it so clearly. Mother and Father telling him all about the pretty girl from some rich family, about how they'd arranged him to marry her for ther betterment of their family... And how they'd reacted to him explaining that he had no romantic interest in women. Their perfect heir was gay, and they simply couldn't understand it. So they cast him aside like rubbish.

____ had wandered so far looking for love. And he'd finally found it. In the form of a very eccentric Dragon Tamer who loved art as much as he loved Pokemon.

As ____ approached the door, he could hear Hassel jovially talking to somebody - most likely a student who'd stayed behind. He opened the door, and proved his hypothesis correct. Hassel was looking over a young woman's sketchbook, showing her how she could improve her work.

____ made himself comfortable sitting on one of the desks, admiring the new paintings on the walls.

"Overall, this is very good progress, Mela - you've improved significantly since we last spoke! Remember, there is no correct way to create art. You have great potential, never squander it." Hassel gave her a firm pat on the shoulder. Mela evidently wasn't very chatty, or didn't want to hang out much longer, because she only nodded before closing her sketchbook and hustling out. Hassel stretched out the crick in his back, wincing ever-so-slightly.

"Back still bugging you?" ____ pried sympathetically, hopping off the desk. "Do you want a massage when we get home later?"

"No, though your offer is tantalizing." Hassel chortled. "Be glad you're not old yet."

"You say that like I'm much younger than you!" The chemistry teacher laughed, tossing his arms around Hassel and pulling him into a loving hug. The other happily returned the affection, practically sinking into his partner's arms. They stood in a comforting silence, simply enjoying eachother's company.

They spent a lot of time like this. Staying in the moment for as long as they could - their careers meant they were often preoccupied, so any free time was a blessing.

"What d'you for dinner tonight?" ____ asked after a moment, playing with a tuft of Hassel's hair. Hassel had little time to answer, though, when there was a knock upon the door.

"Come in!" Hassel called, and ____ took a begrudging step back. The two were open about their relationship, yes, but it would be rather unprofessional to be all over eachother in front of students. If the person at the door even was a student.

The woman who stepped in definitely wasn't a student - she was wearing a peculiar blue-and-red outfit that reminded ____ greatly of home. Hassel's expression darkened the moment she entered, and a palpable tension filled the air. Nobody spoke for a lingering moment.

"I have told you a thousand times not to bother me at the academy." Hassel grumbled. "So why are you here?"

"I've come to request your return home, Hassel. It is your duty." The woman said, hands folded neatly behind her back. It was then that ____ noticed she has the same eyes as Hassel - she must be a relative of his.

"If we must talk about this, we will talk elsewhere." Hassel's glare softened as he turned to ____, gently taking his hands. "I'll see you at home later, alright?"

"Of course. Don't be out too late." ____ gave Hassel's hand a gentle squeeze before they parted, and quietly watched him leave the room with the mysterious woman. He couldn't help but feel disappointed. Hassel clearly hadn't wanted to speak with her, but he'd chosen to do so anyways... Family drama was unbearable.

When he got home later on, ____ hung his black labcoat on its hook by the door. He stepped out into the backyard, plucked five love balls out of his bag, and let his Pokemon out. Medusa and Hyacinthus snoozed away quietly the moment he'd let them out, worn out from a hard day's work. Charon the Tyrantrum began to stomp in circles around Argus the Duraludon, obviously urging him to play... But Argus was less than thrilled. Nemesis, his Turtonator, obviously noticed how crestfallen he seemed, because she trundled up to him and gave him a pat on the arm. Her shell bell jingled a pleasant tune as she moved, and ____ returned her affection with a loving pat on the head.

"Thanks, Nemesis. I'll be okay." ____ huffed shortly, sitting down in the grass as he thought about what he'd make for dinner tonight. He was overdue for grocery shopping, it might be easier to order out... He had time to think about it. ____'s hand found its way back into his bag, thumbing gently over the final ball - he could feel the soothing pulse of affection from the Pokemon inside, and heard the faint whisper of its roar in his mind. Boreas much preferred to stay inside their ball, finding the solitude more comforting than the clamor of the outside world.

____ was sure he would've agreed, if he could get inside a PokeBall. A chilly breeze seemed to sink deep into his skin, awakening old aches and pains that still effected him. He ran his hand up his left arm, feeling over old knotted scars and vicious gashes that hadn't quite healed right... The life of a dragon master wasn't an easy one. Especially not when their family was like ____'s. He'd found no joy in finding out his parents had died years ago, mourning the people he wished they could've been for him. If only they could've been proud of him for who he was, instead of despising him for who he wasn't.

He went back inside before long, grabbing himself a cozy jacket to wear before fishing their phone out of their pocket. ____ felt so inexplicably drained today. Perhaps it was just thinking about family that had driven him so mad. Whatever it was, he was still hungry, so he ordered seafood online (making sure to get Hassel's favorite as well) and began his usual evening routine.

The house was oddly quiet without Hassel there, and ____ didn't like it. Whoever that woman was... He'd give her a piece of his mind the next time they met.

Unfortunately, ____ never did get the chance to give her a piece of his mind. She kept coming back to poke and prod at Hassel, but never when he was around - ____ could tell days she's visited just by looking at Hassel. He always looked exhausted, frustrated. He would never talk about it, though ____ knew what was wrong without him having to say it.

____'s patience wore thin.

A few months went by before he'd finally had enough of it, and went out of his way to meet her again himself. It was out in the schoolyard that he spied her walking up to Hassel again.

____ briskly jogged up to her, grabbing her shoulder to get her attention.

"Leave him alone! His choices aren't yours to influence." He growled, the corner of his eye twitching ever so slightly. The woman gave him a haughty glare, pulling away from him.

"And who are you to make such a claim?" She pried. ____ realized at that moment the schoolyard had gone quiet - students and faculty alike had turned to face them, likely because of his shouting. And yet, he felt no need to back down. Jeopardizing his job was definitely worth giving this woman a piece of his mind.

"I am Hoenn's last dragon master, ____ of the Sky Clan. I challenge you to a battle - if I win, you leave Paldea and you DO NOT COME BACK." ____ spoke with a ferocity that hadn't been awakened in years, yanking his coat off. A wave of urgent whispers spread across the gathering crowd, some discussing his proclaimed origin. Others talked about just how scarred he was. He no longer cared. He just wanted to live in peace.

"Fine." The woman scoffed, plucking an ultra ball off her belt. "Have it your way. We battle in Mesagoza Plaza."

Excited students followed the two dragon tamers off of campus, as did several members of the faculty - Hassel felt numb from shock. Dragon master? ____? He'd never seen that fire in his eyes, never heard that vicious snarl in his voice. It was shocking.

The battlefield in Mesagoza's plaza was surrounded by the time the two duelling trainers arrived, each stepping to one end of the field. The woman sent out her first Pokemon, a Kommo-o with a mean look in it's eyes.

People fell silent as ____ took a single ball out of his bag - a master ball. Even from a distance, it was easy to see the purple shell. ____ could feel Boreas humming within, eager to deliver justice to those who had wronged the ones he loved.

____ pressed the ball against his chest, and closed his eyes. He felt the wind pick up around him, felt the air cool as the sun was blotted out by clouds... When he finally threw the ball, it didn't open immediately. It lay on the ground, shaking noisily, beams of light breaking through the widening crack as it was pried open-

"QUAAAA-ZAAAAAAAA!" The shrieking cry of Boreas rippled through the plaza as they burst forth from their PokeBall. Glistening black scales, embroidered with broad stripes of crimson, golden eyes that glowed brightly. A brilliantly shiny Rayquaza, side by side with the last Dragon Master.

____ had never felt so alive. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, a crooked grin tugging at his features when he saw the shock on the woman's face. He was aware of people in the crowd filming, and yet he didn't care.

"DRAGON ASCENT, BOREAS!" He roared over the howling wind, and Boreas was cloaked in a bright light - they mega evolved as they soared up into the sky, golden tendrils shimmering with energy that most would never witness. They came back down, striking the opposing Kommo-o with enough force to create a shockwave across the plaza.

It was no surprise that it has fainted, nor that Boreas swept through the woman's team with little trouble. As the woman returned her final Pokemon, she left, clearly frazzled. ____ could feel the exhaustion weighing over him... He'd not battled in some time. Boreas floated gently down to meet his eye level, returning to their normal form faster than he could blink.

"You fought well today, my friend." ____ smiled crookedly, reaching out to run a hand along Boreas' neck. The Sky High Pokemon closed their eyes, pressing their forehead affectionately against ____'s, before disappearing back into their ball.

The crowd erupted in excited chatter, students clamoring over eachother to try and talk to ____.... But the teacher made his way over to Hassel, who looked like he was about to cry.

"You- did this for me?" He asked, disbelieving - revealing they owned a legendary Pokemon was sure to get a lot of unwanted attention.

"I would do anything for you, Hassel. Especially if it involves getting rid of annoying family members." ____ slung his arms around Hassel, squeezing him tight. "Now let's get out of here before we both start bawling."

The two dragon tamers slipped away from the bustling crowd, and knew peace for once in their lives.

End is kind of crappy but I am really really sick rn

#x reader #fanfic #writers on tumblr #pokemon x reader #x male reader #writing requests #pokemon x male reader #hassel x reader #elite 4 hassel #hassel x male reader #x m!reader #male reader #male x male reader

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