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#spirited away kin
citizenoftmrrwlnd · 8 months
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stimboard based off : spirited away (ghibli movie) with anything fitting
x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x
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desalvar · 2 months
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alright, i'll write about it at length eventually, but the type of human nik originally was are actually a neat little group of guys. called 'shadows' or 'hosts' (most often not called much of anything really) they're what happens when once in a very rare while a mundane human is born metaphysically incomplete, with their soul not fully formed. they're perfectly regular people, no extra abilities or special heritage (and if they were supposed to have any, they usually end up not having it), with zero clues about what they are besides some inherent restlessness, aimlessness and an odd sort of spiritual dissatisfaction. they don't stay clueless for long, though, usually. when there's a void where part of your soul should be, it kind of behaves differently.
one thing they unwittingly do is absorb metaphysical energy aimed at them like a sponge, making them natural conduits for the magical and spiritual, and extremely sensitive to both. it does also neatly soften the blow of any magic attacks, curses and, most importantly, possessions - which they can handle better than most, but suffer more of than the mundane human would. the preternatural just can't seem to leave them alone. unfortunately, they end up being pretty convenient for otherworldly creatures or metaphysical forces that be in need of a physical form to operate or speak through.
a lot of them are extremely talented mediums and find their calling in allowing the spiritual to speak through them. others find a source of external power or magic to borrow from, but those can only be granted by surrogacy, not taken. some bond with supernatural beings they gladly pay host to, like a live-in patron of sorts. few aren't quite so lucky and end up as 'true vessels', fully taken over by greater spirits and stripped of their autonomy. for a time, while he was still a 'host', nikodemus' fate was almost sealed as a true vessel, only he ended up eating his 'parasite'. which is a neat way to discover what you are and also how you can use it to your advantage, in the same breath (and gain some new abilities through virtue of digestion).
anyway, i just think they're neat.
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furretsden · 10 months
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Werewolf moodboard with themes of being cursed for me
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summer-fire · 10 months
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Muppet ass bird movie
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attractthecrows · 4 months
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man i'd really like for revallen to encounter the ghost of his father but with his skillset it's just not likely
#revallen lavellan#now nessie on the other hand is a dreamer. she could very easily meet dirennen. but she wouldn't know him from any other elvhen spirit#unless she straight up said 'im revallen's daughter!' and dirennen just latched onto her as kin to protect#revallen would have questions. he would have closure to get. he'd be able to speak to his father as equals#and ask to hear the tales that only the dead can tell#but without nessie's help or even solas' he can't do it purposefully. he would love to. but he can't#it would wreck him tbh. dirennen would say 'you've grown well‚ my son' and revallen would just collapse#the survivors guilt of watching his father die. the guilt of failing his clan. the grief at losing his family‚ his wife. the self loathing.#it would all hit at once and all of a sudden he's right back to being the teenage boy who's scared to face more loss#he covers his face to hide the tears and dirennen pulls him into a comforting embrace. 'know and mourn the past‚ my son‚' he says#'but look always towards the future.'#if nessie is there she hugs him and it's a little father-daughter bonding moment#if solas is there it's kind of awkward. but he comes up on one side and puts an arm around revallen's shoulders and supports him anyways#half carrying half leading him back to the edge of sleep when dirennen fades#when he's less actively agitated he asks if he's all right. and instead of answering revallen just Vanishes#because dorian woke him up#because something woke dorian up. and when he turned to look at revallen's sleeping face (which he is fond of doing) there were tears#when dorian wiped them away there were more. so he shook revallen awake. 'amatus!' and revallen startled back to consciousness#eyes wide and confused with lingering hurt. another tear falls and dorian wipes it away‚ cupping his cheek. 'you were dreaming‚ amatus.'#'are you all right?' and revallen blinks. then sighs deeply and nods‚ closing the distance between him and dorian.#''m ok' he mutters sleepily. 'w's just old ghosts. sorry I woke you.'#etc etc cute sleepy bed shit im running out of tags#i do think dirennen and nessie would have a spirit mentor/acolyte thing going on. he could teach her adahl'era and give her guidance#'let me go ask granddad rq' * conks the fuck out*#i think he'd also be naturally drawn to/protective of her. like as a dreamer yeah but also she's naturally receptive to spirits
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verflares · 6 months
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(click for higher quality!) draconified link concept ive been chipping away at this past week ..... here's my funny little compendium concept for him:
"A heroic spirit has taken the form of this bestial dragon. Unlike it's kin, this creature exhibits an extremely aggressive disposition. It appears highly territorial, and will relentlessly chase down those who disturb its skywide patrols - of which it seems to be endlessly searching for either a long-time vassal or foe. Unfortunately, it seems the spirit within has long since forgotten exactly who it was looking for…"
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bvidzsoo · 3 months
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Underwater
The first star of Cosmically divine...
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☆ Author: bvidzsoo
☆ Pairing: Choi San x female reader
☆ Warning: nudity, smut, blood, mentions of war and threats to kill someone
☆ Word count: 6.9k
☆ Rating: nsfw
☆ Genre: Greek mythology, San is Ares, forbidden love
☆ Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?
☆ A/N: Hi, lovelies!^^ I totally didn't write this piece in one sitting, naaah, yes I did. I hope it's good and enjoyable as I have my doubts with it I was so hyped up but anyways. I appreciate all your feedback, it is very welcomed, so let me know what you thought of it! If you'd like to join the taglist of the series let me know! I'll point out a few things before you start reading the story:
★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Ares is the God of war ★ Artemis is the Goddess of hunt ★ A Naiad Nymph is a female spirit that preside in fresh water ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love ★ Hermes is the messenger of Gods ★ Iris is the goddess of rainbow but was also considered messenger of Gods ★ Atë is the goddess of mischief ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (it's so beautiful over there guys, if you get the chance, you should definitely visit the village, and Mount Olympus too!!) ocean divider; greek divider
☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs
@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie
༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉  
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            On the outskirts of the ancient city called Dion, just by the foot of Mount Olympus an enchanted forest vivid with Nymphs of all kinds encompassed the land, offering a much-needed sanctuary and protection to those who were in need of tranquility and a piece of quiet, away from all mortals, and even Gods that had their watchful eyes on everyone and everything at all times. The small Lake of Naia, springing from the top of Mount Olympus, rushing down rapidly the rocky side of the mountain only until it became merely a gentle stream was the place I referred to as my home. It wasn’t just my home, it was the home of many Naiad nymphs that have been birthed and then raised on the shores of Lake Naia by their elderly sisters, naiads that have been here for centuries, having witnessed atrocities, but so many beautiful life-changing events as well. We were fond of this place, and we protect it ardently. No foul soul was allowed in the vicinity of our sacred Lake, Artemis herself having blessed our sanctuary.
Men who were desperate for enlightenment, or were feeling lonely, would often find solace in our presence, grateful for an eternity to us, making promises, which, due to their fragile lives would never be completely fulfilled. But that was alright, my sisters and I never expected too much from them as long as they honored and cherished our land, our Lake, our home. After all, mere mortals wouldn’t be able to offer us what the Olympian Gods could. Warm bodies and warm souls that we could often lay upon our hardships, our fears, and our future ambitions. I have never stepped too far away from my home, walking barely a few feet away from the Lake would make me feel restless and unnerved, unsafe and exposed to the not so kind men that liked to haunt and torment us when the Gods weren’t on the look out for their dear naiads.
Besides Artemis, not many came often to Lake Naia, its location too close to Olympus and yet too far from Dion for the Gods that were rather lazy, like Apollo. Zeus always had his eyes on his children and kin, however, if they travelled far away enough from Olympus, he’d certainly turn a blind eye to whatever shenanigans they deemed fit on their travels on Earth, disguised as something they were not. Even Artemis liked to change her features when she came down to bless our Lake and show gratefulness for guiding and protecting the maidens through their hardships, however, there was one God that never bothered to hide his true self. All bloody and gory and authentic, brute yet hands gentle as if they were afraid to bruise those innocent, eyes sharp and menacing upon first glance, yet warm and intense on a second glance. The mortals liked calling him Ares, but I preferred his birth name, the one Zeus had given him, San.
San had always been a gruff and intimidating man, as the God of war, he was strong and vigilant, quick on his feet and cutting with his words. Very few naiads had the courage to approach him, scared he’d hurt them if they displeased him in any way, and so, the task of looking out for him whenever he visited Lake Naia fell on my hands. And despite the stories that I have heard about the fearless man, I couldn’t bring myself to find him terrifying or mal-intentioned, not when his lips quivered when he whispered the names of those fallen in battle, not when tears would escape his beautiful eyes before he’d submerge in the crystal-clear water of Lake Naia, desperate to rid himself of all the blood, suffering, and screams of those that have perished underneath the sharp blade of his sword. San was a man with a delicate and soft soul, yearning for a connection that was simple, a connection in which he didn’t have to explain himself nor feel guilty, a connection where one simply listened to his burdens and coaxed him further inside the warm and tranquil waters of Lake Naia.
Being immortals, it’s been too long and I wouldn’t be exactly able to pinpoint the time and date of when San decided that he’d choose Lake Naia as his piece of heaven and peace after a long and exhausting battle, but ever since then, his visits became more and more frequent. Perhaps it was due to the rising tension between the settlements as the mortals were never quite thankful with what they’ve got, so, they challenged each other to a war that only lead to disaster and suffering, dividing families and scarring individuals for a lifetime. And despite the real reason as to why San was here should have saddened me, as a protector of maidens that have fallen victim in these wars, I only found my heart gleeful and quickly beating the more often he showed up. There was something majestic, captivating and divine about San, and my poor Naiad heart stood no chance against a man whose walls crumbled the second his armor was off his body.
            Times were dire, nature had a way of silently absorbing everything the mortals felt. And as part of nature myself, I found myself quite volatile lately. Even the quietest snap of a twig sent us back deeper inside the lake, ready to submerge and watch from underneath whatever fool decided to approach our sacred place. My sisters grew restless and they refused to step out of Lake Naia, whispers of the forest surrounding us carrying word that a war not too far from our home was brewing as the military forces of two settlements failed to see eye to eye. Artemis visited more often than before, blessing our humble abode and promising a new location that would be even safer if the events would turn grimmer, but my sisters and I refused to flee. This is our one and only home, the only place that we’ve known since eternity, since the cosmos has birthed us, and if it came to it, we’d rather perish with this place than abandon it and leave those who love it as much as us behind. Artemis did not like our refusal, but her word couldn’t go against our eldest sister’s, and once we’ve put our hearts to something, we rarely changed our minds.
Due to the sun hiding behind the clouds, the Lake failed to stay as warm as usual, but our songs kept it idle for a quick dip. My sisters have disappeared somewhere deep-down underneath, their absence coating the surroundings in a serene silence, perhaps a little bit even eerie. I knew what this meant as I lurked just above the surface, eyes set on the steadily approaching figure. Its outline was harsh and looked to be almost vibrating as his heavy footsteps echoed in the silent forest, the animals just as reluctant as my sisters to be in the vicinity of the God. Pushing my head above water, I took a deep breath and slowly swum towards the shore, the soft water clinging to my skin like a second skin. The sword that was gripped in the God’s hand glinted in the light, despite the sun being hidden, and it left a red path in its wake as he came closer to the Lake. Something salty and nauseating hit my nose as my feet touched the fine soil of the Lake, the water up to my neck as the sword slipped from the God’s hand, clanking loudly against the grey stones that littered the path that led towards Lake Naia. Heath flooded my body, and it wasn’t from the Lake as I walked further out, water below my chest, it was from the God’s body heath as red veins swirled underneath his pristine and tan skin as his arms were left exposed. The miniscule cut on his right bicep was the first thing that caught my eyes as the water of the Lake finally reached my ankles, white dress heavily clinging to my body and failing to hide anything as my black hair looked almost molded to my back as it wetly stuck to it. A soft exhale and the deep furrow of his dark eyebrows was the first sign that my God felt exhausted as we came to stand face to face, his body tense and vibrating with the remnants of adrenaline, meanwhile mine felt lax and tingly as I bowed my head, curtsying.
“San, my possessor.” I didn’t need to speak loudly, there were no sounds around us, just San’s breaths coming out in short puffs, chest rising and falling rapidly underneath his black steel armor. The stench of death would make anyone run away, but as I raised my head up and laid my eyes upon my possessor’s face again, I could only feel pity seeing the regret and exhaustion whirling together in his sharp eyes, clouding his mind and I could almost hear his thoughts.
“Y/N, my nymph.” And the God’s voice that roars and shatters in a battle was now shaky and soft, warm to the point that it made my heart beat faster, “I have missed you dearly.”
I didn’t dare smile as I extended my right hand, eyes stuck to the swipe of dark blood underneath his right eye, trailing down to leave the impression of a bloody tear. I swiped at it with my thumb, and San’s eyes closed as he gulped, sighing loudly.
“Let me take away your burdens.” I whispered as I stepped closer, the heath almost devouring me as the red veins seemed even more alight underneath his tan and soft skin, heart beating out of the God’s chest as his eyes slowly opened, black eyelashes fluttering as they settled on my face.
“Please.” A God never pleaded, never fell to their knees in front of anyone. A God was strong and fearless, ready to devour anyone who dared disobey their command. I offered San a small smile as I leaned forward, lips parting just slightly before they made contact with the cut on San’s bicep, a whimper leaving the man’s lips upon the contact. And his eyes were glazed over as I pulled back, the taste of salt tangible on my tongue as I caressed his now healed bicep. San knew what to do, and with a deep breath he fell to his knees, hanging his head low as my hands caressed his cheeks before his jaw, settling around his neck. His skin was hot, flaming almost, gushing with life underneath all that heavy muscle and flesh, desperate for a gentle and understanding touch. I allowed my hands to travel lower, onto his shoulders, nimble fingers unclasping the harsh steel from around his defined shoulders. A pause, another sigh, and San stood tall once again, a calloused hand settling on my hip as he oh so gently pulled my body closer, my fingers itching the more blood they touched, which was now rusted onto his armor, the same armor that Hephaestus had designed for him upon the request of Zeus so that it would make San, his bellowed son, invincible. San’s sharp, but softening, eyes remained on my face as my hands first went around his middle, leaning my fragile body against his. It was sturdy, unmovable like a mountain, but it was also warm and gentle, a quiet promise that it would keep you safe from any evil. San’s fingers twitched before they dug into my hip, his armor sharp and cold against my own body, but I welcomed its closeness as San seemed to melt into the embrace, his tense muscles finally easing up at last. He could finally be vulnerable, bloody or not, in my eyes he was perfect and benevolent.
“Your battle must have been strenuous.” I spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence, as I gently peeled myself back from the embrace, fingers latching onto the clasps at the God’s middle, undoing them and letting the bloody armor fall to the ground, looking like it’s been broken in two. But it wasn’t, it was unbreakable just like its possessor.
“I have not had the opportunity to close my eyes for six days as of today.” His deep voice lost all the malice it usually carried, and my eyes remained focused on the dents and marks the armor has left on the poor God’s sun-kissed skin. My warm fingertips gently traced against them, the muscles flexing underneath them as the God hummed in content, both hands holding firmly onto my hips. I smiled as he leaned forward and gently rested his chin on top of my head, allowing me to trace the scars left by his ruthless armor, knowing that they’d disappear if I touched them. I closed my eyes as my fingertips reached them hem of his trousers, which weren’t made of steel but were magically enhanced so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of Achilles, and I leaned just a little bit forward to press kisses tracing his collarbones. The sighs the God let out were of pleasure and he hummed in appreciation as I untangled the knots of his trouser and gently pushed them down his hips, caressing his loins firmly as San groaned, nails digging through the thin fabric of my white translucent dress.
“Then we shall get inside the Lake.” I proposed and San hummed in agreement, grip not faltering as I stepped back to steer us inside the water. When our eyes found each other again, his were ablaze with want and need, but he knew he had to wait until we got inside the water. And so, he reluctantly released me and eagerly took my extended hand as I interlaced our fingers, a small and charming smile appearing on his face for the first time today. I chuckled and lead us back to the water, walking backwards as the smile only seemed to stretch on San’s lips, red veins ablaze and whole being glimmering in the light of the small clearing the Lake resided in, the clouds slowly uncovering the blazing sun as the weather reached my thighs, San’s body convulsing as it was overheated from the battle and the Lake would cool it down. I walked further inside, my body welcoming the familiar feel of the soft water brushing against myself, like a cocoon forming a protecting layer over it, my own armor.
San’s body shook when it was finally submerged, underwater, and I released his hand as I giggled and took a deep breath, to tease him, and dipped my head underwater. I opened my eyes and grinned as his legs kicked out to stay above water, never having been keen of having his head under the clear water of the Lake. His naked body looked almost translucent underwater and I swum around it, playfully nipping at the skin of his back, thighs, abdomen, calves, and chest, my teasing cut short when a strong hand seized me around the neck and yanked me above water, dark brown eyes coated with lust and cheeks flushed as our bodies pressed together, legs wrapping around his middle subconsciously.
“Rest now, my San.” I whispered, eyes fluttering shut as his hot breath fanned my face, heart thundering underneath the hand pressed against his chest.
“I’ll bring you a star on our next rendezvous.” His words were rushed, almost desperate before hot lips pressed against mine, devouring them with fervor, with desperation and a neediness that I fear will never be satiated.
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            The forest was loud for once, animals buzzing around, a deer timidly coming down to our Lake to hydrate itself, and Yeri, our youngest naiad, lay giggling on the shore as she teased the deer by leading it around in circles with a string of water, until our eldest sister chastised her for tormenting the innocent creature. As our youngest sibling, she was rather mischievous and loved to play around whether it was with animals or humans. Younger men especially loved her, but she only enjoyed their company as long as they remained on land and her in water. She was the least trusting of anyone other than her naiad friends, thus why she had refused even Artemis’ offer of finding her a lover that would dearly cherish her.
I was laid back on a larger rock by the Lake, resting back on my elbows, my white dress almost completely dry as I swirled my toes around in the water, humming in contentment as my sisters voices meddled with mine as they were gathered towards the middle of the Lake, playing a tagging game. I smiled as I listened to their giggles and cheers, which were mixing with the beautiful songs the birds were singing, echoing our voices almost perfectly. The strong, divine, presence first gained our attention as everyone perked up, sensing it come closer as my body grew jittery. I curiously stood up, not expecting a visit from Artemis so soon, or another deity for the matter. But when my eyes fell on the approaching form in the distance, I instantly knew who it was. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart jumped in joy, but I couldn’t help feel concerned at the same time. San never visited unless he went to war, to a battle, and he had told me truce was laid upon the two settlements after they lost many men. He had no reason to visit, yet he was here. And my sisters shared my unease as they all grew warry, stopping their game as the eldest one called Yeri over, deeper into the water. I scrambled onto my feet and offered them a calm smile, not wanting them to panic and do something rash when it came to San. Understanding my request, they swum further away from the shore, only their eyes and the top of their heads visible as my feet touched the soft grass, San’s face now visible as he came closer.
Expecting complications and even a summoning to Olympus, instead, a bright smile decorated his lips, eyes crinkled and a skip to his confident steps as he hurried down the path having spotted me. Feeling confused but glad to see him nonetheless, I returned his smile and gasped when I was swept off my feet, his arms firm around my waist and twirling me around. I clung to his neck, lips brushing against his ear as I giggled, a similar sound leaving San’s lips. My heart skipped a few beats before it started beating faster altogether, every vertebrate in my being jittery as I realized this was the first time I have seen San so happy and relaxed, his sword nowhere in sight, and his armor polished and clean, glinting and carrying the scent of pine and musk instead of the salty stench of blood.
When he was done twirling me around, he placed me down on my feet, but kept his arms around my waist and leaned down hastily, warm and red lips pushing against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I allowed myself to melt into him, cupping his cheek as our lips moved together softly, making it feel like it was the first time I was kissed by him. I felt my head whirl around and fingertips grow warm as San smiled into the kiss, apparently refusing to pull back just yet as he kept pressing little pecks against my plush lips. There was something about his demeanor that brought tears to my eyes, a side of San that I was seeing for the first time despite us knowing each other for an eternity now. I had dreamed of what a happy and free San looked like, a San that wasn’t tormented by a battle where he had to slay mortals and swallow their screams, feed off of the pure madness, hatred, and rage. I have prayed to Artemis to see a San that was so happy his whole body glowed from it, and now that I had him in my arms, laughing and kissing me, I couldn’t contain my own emotions.
“Why are you crying, my little nymph?” His voice carried worry as he caressed my cheek and swiftly wiped a stray teardrop from underneath my eye, eyebrows furrowing, “Have I made you sad? Perhaps even mad by showing up so unexpectedly?”
“No!” My voice raised without me meaning to do so, and my arms tightened around him as I pushed up on my tiptoes, ours noses grazing together as I stared inside his dark and soft brown eyes, “No, my San, I am beyond delighted to see you in such light. I have only dared to dream of seeing you one day happy and carefree.”
“My little nymph,” San whispered, expression faltering for a second as pain clouded his eyes, but it was quickly gone as I traced his high cheekbone with my forefinger, eyes taking in his beautiful features only a God was gifted with, “I had not known you harbored such wishes; I should have known seeing me always all roughed up after a battle brings you pain.”
“No, San,” I shook my head, a small smile appearing on my lips, “It brings me peace of mind and solace that I am the one you seek out after such feat, that I am the one you come to, to chase away your pain and fears after a battle.”
“Sometimes I see the stars in your eyes, Y/N.” San’s voice was merely a whisper as his hand gently brushed a strand of hair off my face and behind my ear, “When you look at me so deeply like right now, they sparkle with life and I see the cosmos in them. You are majestic underwater, but it will never come close to how you look when your eyes land on me.”
I gulped, feeling speechless as my cheeks grew hotter and darker in color, fingers tangling into the small hair on San’s nape. It was the first time his black hair wasn’t pushed back to make his eyes look even more piercing, but was rather soft looking and fluffy, hanging into his eyes as a dimple formed in his cheek as a wide grin made it onto his face again, “If my heart stops beating one day, I wish you to be the last thing I see before I must go.”
San shook his head, eyebrows furrowing again as he held onto my face, leaning so close his lips brushed against mine when he spoke, “You shall never leave me first, I promise you’ll be here until my last worshipper perishes, and even then I do not wish to take you with myself into the Underworld.”
“We won’t go to the Underworld, San.” He gulped as our gazes bore into each other and then he nodded, wordlessly and looking a little defeated, releasing my face as he cleared his throat. Sensing that he had something important to say, I released him and stepped back a little bit, watching him curiously as he reached inside his armor, pursing his lips as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for. I took my time to pay close attention to him, to take in his all like this, so that I could replay it when I missed him most. The way the sunlight fell on him made his caramel skin glow even more, face relaxed and a smile almost always present on his red lips, eyebrows unfrowned for once and expression serene as his muscles remained lax, not even a bit tense. When he finally found what he was looking for, he made a sound of triumph and I smiled a little wider, looking at him with big eyes as he pulled a collar out of his armor. I couldn’t determine what it was for, or whether it was a necklace or a collar, but when he opened his palm and raised it up for me to see better, I gasped in shock. There, worked into the steel that looked a lot like the one his armor had, was a little glowing star shining almost blindingly up at me.
“I promised to bring you a star,” San said quietly and then turned me around gently, pulling my black hair from around my shoulders to one side only, “I wish you keep something of mine on yourself, for protection.”
My lips pulled into a small grin as the cold steel touched the base of my neck, “You wish for everyone to know who I belong to upon one glance, don’t you, my greedy little possessor?”
San chuckled behind me as I felt him secure the clasp, his voice just a little bit deeper when he spoke up again, “You know me too well, my little nymph.”
His lips brushed against my ear and I turned my head to look up in his eyes, heart beating out of my chest, “Thank you, San, like the star around my neck, I’ll continue gazing at you as if you were my own personal star.”
A beat of silence passed between us before I felt San’s body press up against mine from behind, hand coming up to cradle my jaw and hold it firm as he leaned down into a searing kiss as reward for my words, as reward for allowing him to claim me in front of all Gods and Goddesses.
            Not long after San’s visit, another deity seemed to be keen of visiting our humble Lake Naia. Albeit, this Goddess has never been too fond of our existence right at the feet of Mountain Olympus as she had claimed we’ve been charming her men away from her. She could have anyone, she had everyone, us mere Naiads could never live up to her beauty and charms, but she failed to see and understand that. My sisters and I had been gathered around the rocks, just by the shore, giggling about the latest gossip we have heard through Hermes’s secret lover, having been accomplice to the kidnapping that he had planned for Iris. We have sworn secrecy to her and Hermes, and swore to keep her safe and hidden from Zeus as long as she sometimes indulged to our gossipy nature and came down to the Lake for a bath where she’d share all her stories as she lived in the closest settlement, Dion. An outcast Goddess had been wreaking havoc lately there and Iris was trying to find ways to warn men without the other deity catching on, but Hermes is too scared Atë would tell Zeus of his once prized seer’s whereabouts and thus had forbidden Iris from meddling with the other Goddesses shenanigans.
The birds songs grew louder and the foxes ran out of the bushes as a light breeze entered the clearing the Lake resided in, and the strong scent of roses and pomegranate invaded our senses as my sisters and I became alert to the presence of a deity other than the two we would welcome here so often. The lower half of my dress was soaked as I had dangled it in the water prior, and due to Yeri, my long black hair was now tangled into intricate twists with flowers secured in it. The cold steel necklace sat snuggly against my neck, the star softly buzzing at all times and sometimes humming along to my songs. The giggles and laughter died down as the approaching presence took its time apparently, taking in everything our humble abode had to offer her. My eyes stayed on her, closely watching her every move, and I felt the strength leave my legs upon realizing who it was. I felt my cheeks heat up all of a sudden, the steel necklace too heavy around my neck as my lungs seized up, almost suffocating me. Yeri, always quick to catch the change in someone’s mood, intertwined her fingers with mine and squeezed them gently, offering comfort in the subtlest of ways.
“Ah, Lake Naia,” The Goddess’ voice was melodic and soft, yet it carried over the space between her and us, “I have heard so many stories about this place, but never truly had the itch to come and see it for myself. You have bewitched quite a few men, my little nymphs, both mortal and immortal, do you know?”
Her piercing eyes fell on me as she finally reaches us by the rocks, making me gulp as I averted my eyes, looking at our eldest naiad as she stood gracefully, a pleasant smile on her lips as she approached the Goddess.
“Aphrodite, my Goddess, what brings you to our humble home?” The naiad curtsied and Aphrodite chuckled, looking around. A dove flew overhead and I felt goosebumps erupt on my skin underneath the white dress as the star became a little bit too hot against my skin.
“I have come to bathe in the Lake that chases away all your fears and terrors.” The Goddess said, suddenly unlacing the top of her yellow tunic, leaving her bare to our eyes, “At least that is what everyone claims this place accomplishes.”
“My Goddess, we would love to have you bathe in our lake.” The eldest naiad smiled, stepping aside to let the Goddess walk towards the lake, “We’ll take away all your worries, just as you wish.”
“I want her to bathe me.” A perfect milky finger was pointed towards me and my lungs seized up again, a lump suddenly forming in my throat as I opened my mouth to speak up, but my vocal chords felt like they were being crushed. Yeri grew tense next to me, her grip on me tightening as she stood in front of me protectively, glaring at the Goddess. She was fearless, she looked the lions in the eyes and challenged them without any fear for the repercussions.
“Aphrodite, my Goddess, I am afraid she will not be able to bathe you.” The eldest naiad tried to save the situation, the air growing tense as my vocal chords started to burn and I gasped, grasping at my neck helplessly.  
“She has been claimed by Ares!” It was Yeri’s shrill voice that tore through the clearing, making our sisters gasp around us as finally the pressure from my vocal cords was gone and my lungs also eased up, forcing me to intake large gulps of air, “She cannot touch any other deity than San himself, my Goddess, but you knew that already, did you not?”
“A Naiad with a sharp tongue, how refreshing.” Aphrodite chuckled as I yanked on Yeri’s hand and gave her a harsh stare for being inconsiderate and rude to a Goddess that could turn her into foam within a blink of an eye.
“I apologize, my Goddess, for her rudeness, she is still young and has to learn much.” I bowed my head deeply as I went to stand next to our eldest naiad sister, “I promise to teach her some manners myself, do not punish her just yet, I beg of you—”
“Like you have begged my husband to bed you?” A malicious smile grazed her lips, “Well…bed you, figuratively speaking as you seem to lack of beds in this place, pity, he fucks hardest when he has a headboard to hold onto.”
My jaw clenched as her comment felt like a punch to my ego, tears threatening to prick my eyes as Yeri came to stand next to me, standing just slightly more forward, but when she opened her mouth to speak up, the Goddess beat her to it, “You thought you could fuck my husband and I wouldn’t know? I know everything that happens inside and outside of Olympus, you little minx.”
“Then why does it bother you just now?” I gulped down the fear that bubbled through my system, and looked the Goddess in the eyes as I continued with my question, “Why just now when you’ve known all along what your husband was up to?”
For a second, Aphrodite seemed to freeze, but then slowly, her eyes fell onto the necklace that sat securely around my neck. He’d claimed me, San he had claimed me, meanwhile Aphrodite never quite loved any of his secret lovers to the point that she’d claim them. It hurt her, because it showed San was devoted to me, that he had given me a piece of himself, that he promised of a little particle of his heart that didn’t belong to Aphrodite anymore. Her ego was bruised and she couldn’t deal with the thought of a nymph stealing something that was once hers. She didn’t need to answer the question, her silence spoke volumes like her answer could never.
“Stray clear of my path if you do not wish to turn into foam, little nymph, or perhaps pray to Artemis to keep you safe from Zeus.” My sisters gasped as my lips quivered, dread filling my body at the thought of getting touched by Zeus. Even if a God claims you, Zeus can still do whatever he wants to you. His word and power were grater than any other Gods. I did not wish to come across Zeus, ever, terrified that he’d break me.
And just as quickly as Aphrodite had appeared, the foxes ran through the bushes one more time, a white dove flying over Lake Naia, and then she was gone, her sweet scent carried away by the wind that seemed to bring rain clouds with itself.
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            The days and nights passed by sluggishly, almost as if to taunt me, fear rooting deeply into my bones as I preferred to stay underwater most these days, not keen of coming across any deity. Artemis managed to coax me outside and blessed me, promised protection once again, having heard of Aphrodite’s visit, whispering that San has been at war for a month now. Nobody knew anything about him as he just disappeared one night, but they knew he was alive, he’d send scrolls to his father, Zeus, and updated him about the advancement of the war. When the evenings started feeling lonely, despite the presence of my sisters, I felt my little star humming just a little louder for me to hear and burning warmer, warming my chest from the inside out. I found it my only solace as I yearned for my God, but was scared of what would happen if I allowed him close again.
The stars had been long up on the night sky, high up and shining down brightly, almost as if calling out to its kin that now shimmered in the dark around my neck. I continued to gaze up at them, floating on the dark surface of the Lake, crickets creating a serene cacophony as my sisters’ hums have long subsided as they have gone to sleep. I have found myself grow more restless than usual tonight, the stars calling out and coaxing me to stay awake as if to look over our home, protect it from unwelcomed guests. And when the clearing grew eerily quiet and the stench of death invaded my senses, I gasped and submerged, watching as a dark figure approached the water with almost sluggish moves. My body yearned to feel his warm touch and my heart started racing in my chest, but I did not move. I watched, not too far from the shore, as he came to an abrupt stop just before the water could reach his feet, and he gently placed his sword onto the ground.
“My little nymph.” His voice was quiet, tired, and rough sounding. Tears pricked at my eyes but I forced myself to go just a little bit deeper underneath, the star around my neck pulsing ferociously. My body felt on fire from it, but I refused to act upon my desperate wishes, “Y/N, my little star, where are you?”
My lips quivered and I turned, clutching the star desperately as it started calling out faintly, whether for its kin or for the God that had gifted it to me, I couldn’t tell. The swift clinking of steel and its clasp being undone echoed loudly in the silent clearing and the water was suddenly disturbed as I whirled around, eyes growing wide as I watched my God rush inside the water. It colored the water red around himself, more so than usually, and my heart clenched upon noticing the countless bruises decorating his legs and the gash close to his groin. Who dared wound up my San like that?
I felt helpless as my body acted before I could consider my next actions, and I quickly swum closer, lips touching the large gash underwater, eager to heal his perfectly sculpted body. San’s gasp was loud above water, and before I could swim away, large and calloused hands gripped at my shoulders and yanked me above, making me gasp out loudly as water dripped from my hair onto my face. San’s eyes were wide and streaks of tears made his cheeks shine under the starlight, and I gulped, eyebrows furrowed as I helplessly traced his forehead, wiping the excess blood from there and from his temples.
“My little nymph, why would you hide from me?” San sounded breathless as his eyes desperately searched my face, grip growing stronger as it slipped to my arms, “Do you not love me anymore?”
My eyebrows furrowed and my heart squeezed as I pushed at his hard chest, fury licking at my insides all of a sudden, “How dare you doubt my love for you, San?!”
“You refused to show yourself to me,” His voice grew hard, but his dark eyes remained soft, “You weren’t waiting by the Lake for me, you didn’t undress me, you refused to bathe me. You must not love me anymore—”
“I allowed you to claim me!” I hissed, gripping his jaw tightly, his eyes finally hardening as I got closer to him, “I allowed you to claim me with something of yours, and you doubt my love for you after you disappeared without notice?!”
“I must hear your reasoning before I forgive you.” My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lower lip, Aphrodite’s words echoing in my head. I’d be turned into foam, and then, all the love I harbor for my God will be lost, felt in vain, unfulfilled.
“She will turn me into foam, you have angered her, my possessor.” My voice was merely a whisper, but loud enough in the silent clearing, in the serene Lake. I didn’t have to name her; San knew who I was referring to.
“Once a God claims something as theirs, nobody is allowed to touch it, not even a Goddess out of spite, my little nymph,” San’s tone was strong and confident, carried no room for an argument, “And I, Y/N, I love you with my whole soul and promise to protect you until my last worshipper dies and I perish with them.”
“Then you shall never perish,” I cupped his cheeks, my legs securing around his hips as San’s hand slipped to my back, holding me flushed against himself, “Because I am immortal like yourself, I shall never die and you shall never perish with me.”
A strong emotion that could be only described as adoration crossed San’s features before his eyes closed and his lips pressed against mine, making me cling onto him as our lips moved in a dance that made my heart thunder in my chest, rhythm syncing up with his heartbeat, beating together and for one another. The stars shined perhaps brighter that night as San carried us out onto the rocks, laying me down gently and reassuring me that I would be alright, that as long as he was by my side nothing and no one would hurt me. And his lips sealed the promise as his warm body covered mine, sinking slowly inside me, our souls uniting as my back arched and the star around my neck hummed louder than ever before. San’s each and every single kiss carried a whispered promise as it traveled from my jaw to my neck, nibbling at my collarbones as his thrusts stayed sharp and deep, my fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, marking him up for everyone to see, for Aphrodite to find tomorrow and rage in her pretty bedroom as she isn’t able to do anything about it.
San’s name left my lips almost in a mantra, almost as if I was praying to a God that answered all my prayers and fulfilled all of my wishes, head thrown back and tears trailing down by cheeks as I saw the stars behind my eyes. San feared no God and he had no fear of breaking me as his thrusts became ruthless, pelvis slamming against mine, making me cry out his name repeatedly, finding anchor in his black messy hair and on the rock I was laid onto, the sounds he made growing louder within seconds as he grew closer to his own release. His hands found purchase on my hips as he threw his head back, losing himself in the feeling of pure bliss and euphoria, glazing up at the stars that never shined brighter than my own eyes.
And with my name undyingly on his lips, I knew if I were cursed to become a star one day, I would do so gladly knowing that he saw stars in my eyes, loved me enough to bring down one for me, cherished me enough to promise a death where we’d flicker away at once.
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❱❱ Next star
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nouearth · 9 months
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Imagine getting used as a walking fleshlight by Bruce (Bale) and Clark (Corenswet) at the same time. Both high five'ing each other with dark lust filled eyes while Eiffel tower'ing you. Bruce's cock fulls your mouth so well, he then rubs his cock all over your face. Clark's thrusts are the strongest you've ever experienced, his balls slap against you as if they were a force of nature; you're holding onto ass and pulling him deeper inside you while Bruce rams into your throat like it's a fleshlight.
💌 : ugh, anon. my main men! (although i love pattinson just as much, bale just screams... daddy for me.) also, i—for some reason—love it when guys are showcasing douchey behavior when they're fucking, urgh.
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for bruce, his cock had never felt so full and warm down your throat before. you could barely take him, but he was constantly peppering you in toe-curling praises so you tried your best to sheathe more of him inside of your mouth because you didn't want to disappoint him, or even clark for that matter.
the thick of his cock pushed all the saliva out of your mouth, drool dripping from either corners of your stretched lips, and as much as bruce loved seeing how much of a mess you'd become, reducing your identity to merely a flesh-light, he would pull his cock out and slide it over your lips to feed the saliva you'd dribbled back into your cock-addicted mouth.
you'd lap him up like you were a fiend for his cock, and bruce recognized that, exploiting your addiction when he'd pull himself out at times to hear you whine—to see your eyes widen with a plea that would drive him mad because they became so glossy. your brows etched with worry and agony as it seemed like he was stripping you away from a necessity to living.
the simple thought that you lived and breathed for his cock turned him on, fed his ego, and then fed yours because only you could make him feel so good like this. he would rub his cock all over your face, slap it across your cheek and nose occasionally, before jerking himself off to the scene of clark fucking you, his balls heavily rolling over your pretty features in midst. he'd then hold your cheeks, rough hands at the underside of your jaw, before he began fucking gloriously into your mouth because he was close. so fucking close.
for clark, the sounds of your gagging and gargling was enough to send him over the edge. with his heightened senses, he could hear every intricate noise that you'd deliciously graced him with; the small gasps you would inhale to recover your breath, only for you to gag and cough on them when bruce shoved his cock back inside of your mouth; the sloppy and wet squelches from the lube dripping from your hole as clark fucked his large cock madly into you; the nasal pitch of the bed creaking, a noisy proof of the men's absolute destruction on your body as they intend to break you.
sex with you was an exception to clark's habitual gentlemanly spirit as you drove him mad, teased him for being a goody two-shoes, for being too vanilla for your liking, and he wanted to prove you wrong. he wanted to prove to you that he could be both sides of the same coin, and if he went far enough, you'd beg for him to be easier on you next time.
he would pull your arms back and hold your two wrists together in one strong grip, allowing the position to contort your body in a way that emphasized the shape of your body. you felt your muscles flex, throb apprehensively because they've never been stretched like this before—stretched past their limits. and clark would maintain this position because he was addicted to seeing how the sweat collected at the dips of your back muscles, then rolled off the hill of your ass when your body struggled uncomfortably to meet his cock.
he was too big for you, much bigger than you'd taken before, and clark would make you remember that. he would instill a sense of fear within you—that you might completely break if he were to completely shove his large cock inside of you if he wasn't kind enough to control himself—restrain himself from filling you to the brim.
and he would also instill a craving within you—one that you'd find yourself thinking about his cock for hours, days, months—because you'll never find someone with a cock, a fuck like him. ramming into you hard yet steady, powerfully yet pacing, large and uncomfortable yet deliciously enthralling as clark would make every stretch soar to your senses, soar to make your throat hollow and dry—at least for the moment before bruce was shoving himself back inside of you. they'd chuckle, sometimes laugh not because you were embarrassing, but because you were so impressive to them that they didn't know how else to react other than with affection and laughter. they'd coo at you, pet at your head, tell you what a good boy you were, and fist bump whenever you deep-throated bruce and/or pushed yourself back into clark until he was balls-deep, until he pressed into a golden spot.
and they'd continue with you for hours, fucking you repeatedly, taking their turns with your mouth and ass, sometimes two cocks in one, and you'd never felt happier than being fucked in this moment. elated when bruce filled your mouth with his own cum; warm and creamy as it sat and spread thick on your tongue—your throat as you swallowed like the good boy you were. then full, when clark came into your ass. he held you close, pressing close to you until you were practically glued to him, and his balls jolted, twitched, and throbbed as he dumped his load in you. you can feel clark's cum seeping deeper into when he doesn't stop fucking into your hole, churning his cum into you until you memorized the shape of his cock, the way his cum spread thick inside of you. then finally leaking when he pulled out to see you push out his thick cum loads on instinct.
hehe, thank you for the imagine, anon! 💗 and now, i'm gonna pretend as if i didn't write all of that and create the illusion that i, in fact, am an innocent man.
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thegnomelord · 4 months
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Gnome, my good man, what's your thought on a trickster spirit!reader within the cod monsterverse? Like, he can be a malicious or a purely mischievous spirit who likes to mess with things and play around. As all spirits are, he's a free one, and refuses to be tied down—relationship wise. Which would probably be for some good angst in regards to one/some of the boys pinning for an unrequited!reader. Anyways, I can just see him being an absolute menace to the other boys :3
Better yet if he's a regular fuckbuddy, but even during sex he's still running his mouth, making crude jokes or some offhand comment that makes his current buddy all "???". The only way to shut trickster!reader is to stuff his mouth with some dick or ride/fuck him so good all he can get out is a bunch of whorish moans.
Just.... thoughts on trickster spirit!reader 😞😞
ooooh yessss, trickster spirit reader like anansi that's very clever but also a fucking troll. Reader that's an absolute menace to anyone in charge, a giant pain in the skull that takes every word seriously, as Price figured out when he remarked 'It's raining cats and dogs' and trickster reader literally made it rain cats or dogs, or some general said trickster reader was driving him up the wall so he ended up stuck on the ceiling lol.
Also I absolutely love love love the idea of brat reader and brat tamer 141. Like, you're a free spirit, to try and chain you don't is about as good of an idea as making the spirit of the sea stay with the sailor who loves her, and the old heartless man of the sea can tell you how well that goes.
So the boys let you roam, they let you have your fun; Holding your gaze across the bar when you're flirting with a faceless stranger, not pushing when you shrug their hand off your shoulder to go grind dance with a person you just met, biting back and resisting following you when you disappear to the bathroom for a quick fuck. You're not oblivious of their jealousy, your kin thrive on creating these emotions in others, and quite frankly it's fun to see how far you can push them.
But oh, little trickster, they may let you do as you please, but that doesn't mean your actions don't have consequences.
MDNI
Eventually you burn away all their patience, eventually, the need to show you why it's them you always return to burns too hot and you end up pinned on the bed, or the floor, or whatever semi-flat surface is around.
This time you're pinned beneath Soap who's half shifted, big burly body bruising your hips with the strength of each bounce, sharp claws digging into your ribs to give him a good hold on you. The headboard bashes against the wall every time he fully drops down on you, the springs creaking and digging into your back.
"Fuck puppy-" You moan so loudly you're sure half the base can hear but you can't give a single fuck about it when his ass is so tight around your cock. "So good- shit, you feel- fuck, fuck, fuck- really know how to chase that bone huh- hm!-" Your mouth runs automatically, the your hands sneaking out of the handcuffs easily so you can grip his hips.
Soap is beyond words, animalistic wolf brain too preoccupied with getting your cock as deep in his ass as he can. His tail wags back and forth, wide canine tongue stuck out of his mouth as he bounces on your cock harder, thick thigs tensing to drive you deeper into his velvet soft depths.
"Oh no you don't." Gaz snickers and snatches your arms. He's much more graceful than Soap when he sits on your chest, leaning over you and pinning your hands over your head. "You didn't let us touch you, you're not touching us." He smirks, the tip of his cock laying against your lips, and you could be fooled into thinking he's a trickster too.
You grin and purposely clench your teeth, looking up at him with challenge.
Gaz clicks his tongue, keeping your arms pinned over your head with one hand. His other hand curls into your hair and tugs just as Soap clenches around you. You're in no way responsible for the whorish moan that falls from your lips, eyes closing and mouth opening.
Your eyes fly open when Gaz pushes his hips and shoves half his cock into your mouth. "There you go, got your tongue." Gaz chuckles, pushing his dick a bit deeper. Another sharp tug is all it takes for your mouth to close around his shaft, eyes hooded, hollowing your cheeks as you suck on his cock. Gaz's cock muffles your moans when you get a taste of his precum as it beads down your throat, your mind melting through your cock as the two sergeants fuck all that trickster intelligence out of you.
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brummiereader · 5 months
Text
MASTERLIST PART FOUR
Unchained Melody (Part Five)
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Summary: On the path to mending your fragile marriage, you and Tommy can't bear to stay more than a few moments away from each other. In more ways than one. But as joy and laughter returns to the halls of Arrow House during an evening of ball gowns and tuxedos. The Governess, left scorned and bitter, makes the final arrangements for her deadly plan of revenge.
Warnings: Language, smut (Minors DNI), fluff, postpartum depression, violence, one racial slur, angst
Word count: 5340
Authors note: Thank you for everyone's patience as I took some time away from Tumblr. It's been a while since I have written anything, so I'm a little rusty. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
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"Tea, Mr...Dogs?" Frances asked, unsure of how to address the burly built man striding though the doors of Arrow House as he removed his green tweed cap from his head. His informal manner never ceasing to stop the head housekeeper from entering a dizzying muddle as she clutched to keep things as one would expect in the grand house she managed.
" Touch of whisky Frances. That'll be grand" he replied, stamping his mud-crusted boots onto the freshly polished floors that had recently been cleaned for the event set to take place that evening as he looked down at his pocket watch. Eight in the morning. Never too early to fire up the old lungs with one of Tommy's finest whiskys. He thought to himself as he looped his thumbs under his suspenders, taking in the grand foyer and all its fineries. He could get accustomed to this.
"Johnny boy!" Tommy greeted loudly to his old friend as he walked down the grand staircase. The smile on his face a pleasant change from the solemn frown that had become customary as of late.
"Nice digs you got 'ere Tom. Any spare rooms going, ey?" He replied with a hearty laugh, shaking your husband's hand with a firm pat on his arm.
" Not enough for your brood, and the dozen you've got scattered across the county, Johnny" Tommy replied with a chuckle, his sudden turn in mood a stark difference from the one he had replaced for the past two years. His humor further set on improving with what he hoped was next to come out of his trusted friend's mouth.
" In good spirits ey, Tommy?" Johnny replied as you made your way down the staircase with William hitched on your waist, babbling a nursery rhyme as he enthusiastically bounced up and down in your arms.
" Something like that..." Tommy's voice trailed off as he turned to face you, adoration and pride beaming lovingly through his eyes at the sight of you both together. Reunited, finally.
As in love as the day he laid eyes on you, Tommy watched as you slowly descended down each step. Recounting the night, you stayed curled up beside him watching the fire he had lit in the living room of your grand home settle into charred blackness as you both fell asleep soundly within each other's arms after having come to blows over what desperately needed to be said.
"...will be made better with what you've got to tell me" he quietly replied, not wanting you to overhear, nor have your settled worries be bogged down once again.
" A cousin up in Scotland" Johnny spoke in a hushed voice as he sent William a wave and a wink your way.
" That's it?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow, hoping for more information on the woman that had caused nothing but turbulence since her employment, and a shame your husband wanted to be rid of.
" There's been talk, Tom. In the women's wash house", Johnny added, placing a cigarette tightly between his lips, puffing the fumes through the corner of his mouth.
" Gossip Johnny. I need something better than what tattling old women have to say" Tommy replied, taking the pack of cigarettes and lighting his own as he watched the morning rays of sun glisten on your glossy smile, completely unaware of the goings-on and the vicious nature of the woman hired to care for your child.
" Kin to every man in Birmingham. Nothing gets past them, Tom. I'd stake my life on those old women's whispers" he spoke quietly, before turning his back to you and revealing what the nattering of the town had to say about the Governess in a hushed voice as you opened the dining room door and a triumphant smile grew on your husband's lips.
" Now that is interesting, Johnny. Very interesting"
With your mind still plagued with worry, you couldn't help but let the guilt of your lapse in parenting weigh down your thoughts as you sat opposite young William at the large dining table and back in your rightful seat as you awaited your husband. As your hands hovered nervously over your lips, you watched intently as your son took each mouthful of toast, your eyes darting back and forth to the fading red blotches that covered his skin.
" William?" You gasped, your eyes widening as your hand flew across the table to him when a small cough left his buttery mouth.
" He's fine darling" Tommy said as he entered the room, just as you was ready to bolt up and scoop him into your arms to the nearest doctor. " Forgets to chew. Don't you son?" Tommy smiled as his heavy hand brushed along your back, coming to settle on your shoulder.
" Yes..." You replied with a shaky voice looking back at your son, unconvinced of his well-being as your face twisted in worry.
" Hey, look at me Y/N" Tommy said, resting his thumb on your chin, gently turning your head to face him. "He's ok, darling. I promise" He said with raised brows, softly brushing the warmth of your cheek with his calloused hand. Wanting you to be rid of any lingering doubt.
" He's ok" you repeated your husband's comforting words as you settled your hand over his, bringing it down to the table where Tommy quickly intertwined his fingers into yours and you stayed there undisturbed, enjoying the closeness the morning of just the three of you alone brought. That was until the headache that came in the form of a scorned, spiteful woman with her own menacing agenda charged through the dining room.
" Get out" Tommy quickly snapped with a huff. Swiftly laying out the rules of the home he should have done long before your return.
Begrudgingly tolerant of the woman who had thrown a spanner into the sensitivity of his business contacts, his patience had all but evaporated with the learnt information Johnny had shared with him that morning. But with Tommy now holding the upper hand, her wager was in dire jeopardy. The Governesses time left at Arrow House had rapidly descended into hours, if not minutes.
" I need Gerry to take me in the car" she said as she stood at the end of the table, her talons clicking impatiently on the mahogany wood.
" No" Tommy flatly stated as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, mumbling incoherently his own choice words for her to leave under his breath as he lit a match.
" Tom" you quietly said as you rested your hand on his knee, cooling the rapidly burning fury within him, you knew was dangerously close to boiling over.
For even after her blatant disrespect towards you and the relationship you were trying to rebuild with your family. The last thing you wanted was for your young child's impressionable mind to see his father's anger slip out in front of him over a woman you knew full well was purposely trying to infuriate not only your husband, but you yourself, who had taken back your position she felt now belonged to her. Keep calm and carry on. The British way. And in this situation, the only warranted reaction.
" Taking my family into the city this morning. So..." He shrugged as he glared at her. "Walk" Tommy brushed her off, your intimate touch enough to catch him off guard and stop him from giving her the marching orders she was long overdue right then and there. In turn, sparing you from the outburst he knew she'd unleash and the encounters they had, she would undoubtedly reveal just to hinder your mending heart.
" Perfect. I'm heading that way too" her mouth curled into a smile as her eyes narrowed in on your husband.
" That's fine. Right, Tommy? " you said, squeezing your husband's thigh as your eyes darted to William intently watching his father's changing expression in response to her refusal to keep her distance, and the constant reminder of his lack of loyalty, even in your absence her presence brought.
" Right" Tommy replied clearing his throat, more preoccupied by the feeling of your hand resting soothingly on his leg. Wanting to feel closer to you. Patiently waiting for the moment you would approach him.
A family outing into town with a fourth wheel in tow. The quicker she was gone, the better. Tommy would no longer stand around with such niceties. She would be gone by the end of the day. Kicking and screaming, then so be it. But she'd be gone. He'd promised himself.
" Mr Shelby! Mr Shelby!" The young kitchen aid called out, catching up to Tommy as you headed out the door with William toddling beside you.
" What is it Billy?" Tommy replied with a furrowed brow as he placed his peak cap on his head, motioning for you and William to walk ahead to the Bentley waiting outside.
" I...I need to speak with you" he stammered out, unaccustomed to speaking directly to the head of the house he worked in.
Fair and just. Tommy had never given any member of his staff a reason to fear him. But with the worried glances over his shoulder and his fumbling demeanor, the kitchen boy had not only Tommy's full attention but nagging curiosity as to what had him looking so nervous.
" Billy?" Tommy questioned, his hand firmly resting on his shoulder as he patiently waited for him to speak when the young man's eyes shot across the foyer to the Governess striding through. Her piercing glare enough for him to recoil and quickly apologise for having stopped your husband.
"N..nothing. Sorry to have bothered you sir" he said timidly stepping away as Tommy's head snapped back to the sound of the Governesses heels loudly echoing past him.
" Me, my wife or Frances. No matter the issue Billy, you come to one of us" Tommy said as he watched young Billy's eyes follow the Governess outside. " Understood? Billy?" He added, as the kitchen aid nodded before quickly returning back to the long days' work that awaited him in preparation for the gala of investors Tommy had planned for that evening.
There was no doubt in Tommy's mind that what young Billy had to say was halted by the presence of the Governess. Although determined to get to the bottom of what had occurred. For now his attention lay with you, his family. And the much-needed time he was desperate to spend with you. Just the three of you. At last.
After a short car ride into the city, with the Governess glaring at you with every second that passed, her eyes green with envy as she watched Tommy's thumb brush soothingly over your hand. You were relieved to finally pull up onto Watery Lane, and escape the tension her formidable stare had created.
"I don't think so" Tommy said with a smirk, his hand grasped firmly on the handle of the door to the betting shop, blocking the Governesses unwelcome attempts to follow you and William into the soot-covered terrace house and into the welcome arms of the Shelby family awaiting you. " Times up, love. Pack your bags and be gone by tonight" he said with a look of disgust, dismissing any further conversation with the woman he began to loathe.
" You're forgetting Tommy, that..." She began to seethe, thinking she still had the ultimate ace in her pack of cleverly played cards, before your husband swiftly stopped her in her tracks.
"That what, eh?" Tommy laughed, belittling any superiority she felt she still held over the situation. " You're not as clever as you think you are, sweetheart" Tommy said lighting a cigarette, blowing the fumes in her scorned face as annoyance settled on her perfectly primed brows.
" Been working your way around the whole country, haven't you? Thought you struck gold when you came knocking at my door. Guess you didn't expect my wife to come back though, eh?" Tommy said grabbing her chin, only a mere portion of the information he had learnt from Johnny briefly slipping through his gritted teeth as the Governesses face dropped at her scheming ways being unveiled.
" You'll regret this, Tommy Shelby. You and your precious wife" she spat back as Tommy's grip tightened.
" Get the fuck out of my house. And if you don't, I'll throw you out myself" Tommy snapped as his fingers dug against the bone of her jaw. "Believe me darling, nothing is beneath me. Even when dealing with the fairer sex" he warned her as he pushed her chin away from him out into the cobbled streets in front of his childhood home. Her blatant threats aimed at you enough for Tommy's questionable moral compass to slip even further. If he was going to kill a woman, it would be her. " Stay away from my wife and child" he warned her as he slammed the betting shop door in her face, leaving her fuming with a boiling rage the residents of Watery Lane precariously stayed clear of as they made their way back to their homes.
" What?!" She snapped as two young children hurried past her. Their eyes quickly averting to anything but the reddened-faced woman now marching down the muddied streets in the direction of where her new intentions now lied.
" Still 'ere then?" Esme asked, arms crossed, nose scrunched as she leaned against the shelf the Governess was scanning in the small convenience shop on the corner of the main street of Small Heath. " My John says Tommy's given you your marching orders" Esme said cracking a smile, her and everyone else in the Shelby family having never warmed to the woman that was intent on replacing you in every way.
" With child again, Esme?" the Governess scoffed as she looked down her nose past her hazel features to the swell of her stomach. " Don't your lot ever stop? What's this one? Third, fourth? I can't keep up " she laughed as she returned to the shelf, and it's curious contents.
" My lot. What's that supposed to mean, Gover-ness?" Esme was quick to respond, pushing her way between the shelf and the woman who was hellbent on insulting anyone who bore the name Shelby. Her disdain for the head of the family firmly at the forefront of her thoughts every waking hour of the day.
" There's that famous anger. Gypsies. You're all the same" she insulted, pushing past the blossoming bump and picking up a glass bottle neatly labeled "Rodent Poison", its killing substance, cyanide. Her swift concealment of her intended purchase going unnoticed by Esme, whose face had twisted in offense at the Governesses insulting, cruel words.
" So prim, so proper" your sister-in-law scoffed, as she looked at the neatly dressed woman from head to toe. "But I've heard talk. I know exactly what you are, how low you'll stoop. Governess to the upper class. Now running from a string of angry wives you wanted to replace and the affairs you had with their men" Esme smirked as she watched the Governesses quick wit falter, and her expression change to one of anger at her intentions further being exposed. " Your lot. Homewreckers. Filth" Esme spat with contempt as the Governess stood back, tightly holding the bottle against her body.
" Just this, Mr Higgs" the tall women said as she turned away from the braided beauty, placing the deadly bottle of household poison on the counter and paying. " Goodbye Esme" she smirked, before opening the rickety wooden door, the chime of the bell hovering above it announcing her departure and another step closer she was to playing her next lethal hand.
As the household staff hurried from room to room later that day, finishing off the last of their duties before the guests arrived. You kept yourself busy with worry with what the many invitees would have to say about your sudden reappearance at Arrow house as you prepared yourself for the dreaded evening.
" I can't do this...fuck. I can't do this" you mumbled under your breath as you shook your dressing gown off in front of the large standing mirror in your bedroom.
Stood there behind the dressing screen, your hand traced down your stomach over the faded scars that had turned opaque in the many months that had rolled by. A reminder of the home you kept your son safe, warm within the swell of your stomach. But imperfect, scarred.
Why won't they leave? You sobbed rubbing your flesh red, yearning for the body you had once, the one that captivated your husband's adoration. The one he wouldn't go a day without kissing every inch of. Was he no longer in love with you that way? Was that why he hadn't gotten closer to you? Kissed you? Your mind nattered to you as you turned to pull the sequin gown from its hanger, throwing it on the chair beside you when the door opened and your husband quietly walked in.
"Tommy, is that you?" You called out as you slipped your feet into your laced lingerie.
"Guests are arriving Y/N" he replied as he slowly walked towards the large wooden cabinet, pulling out a set of gold cufflinks. His initials intricately engraved into each one.
" Shit, I'm sorry. Can you help me, with the zip?" You asked, before quickly scrambling for the dress you had launched to the side in your flustered state. " No! Wait! Just...just hold on a second" you all but shouted, quickly pulling the dress over your knees before your husband saw your exposed body.
Coming to a sudden stop, Tommy waited behind the floral painted screen of Gardenias and Ferns, unable to stop his wandering eyes and loose footing from being captured by the soft amber lighting bouncing off the curve of your hip partially covered by the screen. Watching it slowly sway from side to side as you pulled the dress over your body.
Never had he felt so much desire, so much longing to hold you as he silently watched you glide the glittering gown up the edges of your body. The little he could see taking his already labored breath away from him within seconds.
"Y/N, darling?" Tommy said clearing his throat as he stepped back, recomposing himself and the collar of his shirt tightening around the pulsing vein in his neck.
"Ok, you can come" you said as Tommy cocked a brow, a small smile of amusement flashing across his face at your choice of words. Unbeknownst to you how true your statement was close to becoming a reality for him.
" I can't reach, can you just..." You said, gesturing behind your back as your smartly suited husband stood behind you, brushing his thumb down the middle of your back until the small zipper resting over the white lace of your underwear.
" You ok?" Tommy asked, swallowing heavy. Unsure if he was asking himself the very same question as he slowly pulled your dress together.
" Nervous" you smiled timidly to him in the mirror as you smoothed down the front of your gown, your face quickly twisting in uncertainty at your choice of dress.
" I won't leave your side" Tommy said turning you around as your hands came up to straighten his limp tie. " Not once " he said tucking the loose whispers of hair behind your jeweled ordained ears, his body slowly closing the small gap between you both.
" Promise?" You replied lifting your gaze to his hooded eyes staring down at you as you inched closer.
"Promise" he answered bending his head down to capture your ruby lips when a knock on a door and the announcement that all the guests had arrived stole the long awaited moment between you both.
And promise he did. Never once during the entirety of the night did Tommy leave your side as he worked the room and the many guests he had to greet, stealing small glances at you every brief moment he could to gaze at your radiating beauty. Whether it be talking to politicians or men of nobility, Tommy's hand protectively hovered next to yours throughout the evening, discreetly brushing over your fingers as he counted the hours to be finally alone with you again. He couldn't have hoped for a smoother night.
But calm is far from what was taking place behind the scenes of the glitzy evening of flowing ball gowns and filled champagne glasses that adorned the lower level of Arrow House. Far from calm.
With a smile painted on her face and a hop in her step. Your trusted housekeeper for the first time in a long time finally felt the early years of your residence in Arrow House joyfully seeping their way back into the heart of the home through the laughter and music that could be heard downstairs as she made her way up to William's nursery. Hoping he was sleeping as soundly as she had left him. But when she reached the door of your son's room, a reminder of the dark presence that still resided over the stately home could be heard whispering vicious words to the innocent ears of its youngest resident.
" I'll be your new mother soon. Your old mummy's not well, William. She left you, remember?" Don't worry she'll be gone soon" the Governesses voice hushed as she loomed over William's cot as he tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep. "Just you, me and your father, it won't be long now" she added as Frances watched on in horror through the crack of the door, her unfathomable words spilling from her thinly lined lips.
" Get out! Leave!" Frances' voice rose as she hurried to check on young William's well-being. " Mr Shelby ordered you to leave. If you had any sense, you'd go before he learns of the disgusting things I just heard you say"
" Oh Frances. The busy worker bee. Always listening, watching..." she giggled with a quick glare as she sauntered to the open door. " It will all end in heartbreak" she said as she turned around to face your trusted housekeeper and her hand firmly grasped onto the frame of the door, blocking any future attempts to reach your child and seethe her vapid words once again.
" When will you understand... Agness?" she questioned, speaking her name for the first time. Unwilling to use the title of Governess she no longer deserved. " You were but a minor distraction for him as he grieved and cried for the love he still held for his wife. He doesn't want you. Now leave" Frances said as the Governesses smirk dropped and her wicked hatred for anyone daring to get in her way spilled over into fury.
All it took was a blinding second, a swift merciless moment for the Governess to grab hold of the door and slam it shut on Frances' hand, crushing her wrist between the door and its frame.
Muffling her screams with all her might to not wake and frighten the young child in her care. Frances desperately tried to free her hand and the excruciating pain soaring through the snapping of her bones.
" Busy bodies always get their comeuppance, dear Frances " she said letting go of the door before her wrist gave way and broke.
Clutching onto her throbbing hand as she quietly wept. Frances slid down in a heap to the floor as she watched the Governess quietly walk away through her teary vision into the darkened corridor to a Charleston playing loudly downstairs.
"Frances! Frances!" The young kitchen aid caught up to her as she walked through the foyer, quickly grabbing a linen napkin and wrapping it around her limp wrist. " You're hurt" young Billy said, taking her hand as Frances stopped a young maid walking by.
" Go sit with William Ethel. All night. Don't leave his side" Frances ordered as the maid hurried with haste up the winding staircase to the nursery.
" What's going on? Is he Ill? I'll... I'll get Mr Shelby, Mrs Shelby" Billy stuttered as he looked at the terror weighing down your housekeeper's frightened face.
" No Billy. Let them be" she reluctantly replied as she turned to see the both of you dancing the last song of the night together, smiling lovingly at each other as small giggles joyously left your lips at Tommy's quick-footed steps. The happiness beaming off your faces tearing her away from interrupting your rekindling marriage. She would tell you in the morning. She promised herself.
" Frances, there's something I think you should know" Billy said, following her into the bustling kitchen as the staff washed their way through the many plates of canapes that had been eaten and glasses of champagne that had been drunk.
" What is it, Billy?"
As the evening slowly died down, and enough time had been spent in the company of people your husband had little, if any regard for other than their checkbooks. He quietly whisked you off to the small living room of your home to a lit fire and two crystal glasses of champagne waiting for you. Hiding you both away from any further small talk or pressing matters with the turn of a key. Alone, at last.
" Wasn't your finest moment, so I've been told" you laughed after recounting the story his brothers had told you about your poor husband's ghostly face and unsteady feet after hearing you scream bloody murder from down in the foyer he'd been pacing for near ten hours whilst you were in the throes of labor with William.
" Sweetheart.." He stopped, leaning forward to you with a smirk on his face. " You sounded like you were giving birth to the antichrist himself" he laughed, earning him a quick smack across the chest. " I've seen it at the pictures, so I know how that shit ends" he said tipping his glass to you with a cocky smile. The top three buttons of his shirt undone, waistcoat and cufflinks gone. For the first time in two years, Tommy looked relaxed. Happy.
" Yes well, good thing I gave you an angel of a son" you corrected him, taking a sip of your third glass of champagne.
" That you did" Tommy smiled to you. With his eyes glossed over with love, he reached his hand across the feathered cushion to softly rub his thumb across your knuckles. " How did I get so lucky, eh?" He sighed heavily, his eyes scanning across your face, engraving the very moment into his memory. Scared, his happiness would be snatched away from him once again.
" Tom..." You blushed, gazing up at him through your full lashes as a small nagging moment of guilt escaped the corners of your mind for having left him and your son.
" C'mere" he said, quickly simmering your worries as he ushered you closer to him with a tilt of his head, placing his empty glass on the table beside him.
With his breath hot against your lips, Tommy cupped your cheeks, closing the mere millimeters between you both and capturing your mouth in a tender longing kiss.
" Tommy..." You mumbled, quickly feeling the passion rise within you as the embrace intensified with the welcome feeling of your husband's tongue gently stroking against your own.
With a surge of confidence and a need to urgently feel your husband's body intertwined with yours, you pulled yourself up onto his lap as Tommy watched your hurried movements. Refraining himself and his own desperation to flip you onto your back, and bury himself in you.
Why was he just watching you? You thought to yourself as you undid each remaining button of his shirt one by one, a sudden wave of insecurity heating your cheeks as Tommy's hands stayed motionless by his side as his intent stare held still.
Were you rushing things, did you misunderstand his intentions ? Then why did he kiss you like that? Your brain ticked over with questions as he watched you timidly slide the straps of your dress down past your full breasts, sending a wave of desire through him as he scrambled to keep his composure, and let you take control of the pace.
Had he been too restrained? Shit. Did you think he didn't want this? He questioned himself as he watched your eyes fill with uncertainty as your hands hovered over the buckle of his belt.
" Don't stop..." Tommy breathed heavily as you apprehensively slid your hand down his trousers only to recoil with doubt that this was even what he wanted. " Darling please, don't stop..." He said swallowing harshly, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest at the long awaited feel of your touch as he torturously kept himself from taking things quicker. " Fuck" your husband moaned as you wrapped your hand around his stiffened cock, slowly pumping it up and down within your palm.
With your dress bunched up around your stomach, you lined his throbbing length up. Briefly lingering it beneath you, when your husband could no longer withstand the wait and his hands flew up to your waist sinking you down on to him with a gasp as he threw his head back in relief.
" Tommy" You moaned his name as he bucked further into you, his grip securely fastened on your waist.
"Sweetheart, look at me..." Your husband panted holding onto your hips as you rocked back of forth, eyes tightly shut, mouth agape in the highs of pleasure. " Y/N, look at me" he pleaded as he watched you finally open eyes, pulling you forward into a searing embrace before flipping you onto your back and ridding himself of the rest of his clothes
" Tom" you breathlessly whined as he thrusted into you, his hands tracing down the warmth of your body as he pulled at the fabric of dress in his way you was reluctant to be rid of.
" Stop hiding from me Y/N " Tommy said, as you pulled your gown back up, covering the scars your self-conscious thoughts resented as Tommy pulled out and knelt between your legs. " It's ok" he nodded reassuringly, gently moving your stubborn hands away and pulling the remainder of your clothes from your body.
"You kept our son safe" Tommy said, brushing his thumb over the small faded streaks as he watched your eyes well with tears. Hearing your worried thoughts without a single word leaving your lips.
" Hey, shhh" he hushed your fears away as he settled his heavy body down between your legs, his lips pecking their way over the slope of your breasts until capturing your mouth in his. " My wife. My beautiful wife" he said reaching his hand down to his pulsing cock, sighing at the feeling of your warmth enveloping him once again as he urgently entered you. " I love you Y/N" Tommy moaned between each labored breath as he rocked his hips into you, instantly ridding you of any doubt of his remaining feelings for you with three simple words. The sweetest of words you realised you had been waiting to hear to finally feel at peace with your past actions.
" I love you too, Tommy" you breathlessly moaned as you held onto your husband's strong frame as he pulled your legs around his back, wrapping them tightly against him to feel as close, as deep as he could possibly be. At one with you. Making love to you.
As morning came and the sun glistened through the netted curtains. Beams of light cascaded over the woven blanket draped over your tired bodies as you laid soundly asleep on the plush setee you had spent the night passionately making up for the many sleepless hours of darkness you had both endured. But darkness remained, looming feet from you. Creeping in unseen, unheard.
" Soon" The Governess whispered through gritted teeth as her fingers clasped tightly around the blade in her hand, her lust for vengeance close to sabotaging her deadly plan enough for her to find her way into the small haven you had made as she watched you from the door wrapped in a lovers embrace. " Soon..."
PART SIX (The Final)
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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years
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You Bled For Them, You Decide Pt.1 (Daemon x Reader)
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Once again this was challenging but so fun to write, I hope you guys like as well. Enjoy!
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Daemon Targaryen or else known as “the rogue prince” had inherited the free spirit of his mother, for years he traveled as he lusted over two things, war and women. He loved his life and new found freedom after the… sudden death of his lady wife Rhea. The night after Rhaenyras wedding he fled and in a spur of the moment finding refugee in Pentos, the prince of pentos welcomed him with open arms as soon as Daemon landed with Caraxes and even threw a celebration in his honour.
That’s where he met her, (y/n). She was the daughter of a gemstone and dragonbone merchant, she stood next to her father when Daemon first laid eyes on her, her hair dark and long, her (y/e/c) eyes pierced with through his heart and made him feel like he was thrown to the flames, she held the moon and stars in those hues of hers, her lips tempting him as she bit them, her body was barely covered by a dress, it was normal for the women to dress with light materials due to the heat of the city, it did wonders for Daemons imagination. As the breeze went through her the herbal scent hit him like a brick. She was sent by the Gods for him
“It was like fate had struck me”
He would often say. It wasn’t long until he married her, her father was delighted when he saw Daemon Targaryen asking for his daughters hand. (Y/n) had prayed for their union right after that night, she could sense that this was the man for her, the man that would stand by her side until the end of their days.
Daemon spend his days and nights in her arms, the only thing that dragged him out of the bed was his dragon, other than that he spend it pleasuring his wife. Oh what a sight she was when she trembled under his touch, he held her tightly as he took her through the roads of pleasure, the servants would blush and ran away as they would couple wherever and whenever, the study room, the gardens, the bath, even up in the air while Daemon road his dragon, (y/n) rode Daemon.
It wasn’t long until (y/n) was with child, Princess Alyssa was first, (y/n) gave birth by herself in the garden with the help of her husband under a full moon, she did not trust the maesters. Not long after that came the triplets, prince Aevor, princess Eraessa and princess Aerella that were born by the help of their father in their bath on a cold rainy day, (y/n) always felt at home when surrounded by water. On the triplets first nameday (y/n) gave birth to prince Victor, unfortunately (y/n) laid ill with fever for two morrows after that birth, Daemon never left her side since he feared that he would suffer the fate of his father and brother, of course a little while after (y/n) was surrounded by her children and husband as she pushed out a daughter Johanna.
“We have been summoned”
“For what my love?”
“Laenas funeral, she died during childbirth, she commanded her dragon to set her on fire”
(Y/n) rubbed on her growing belly at the news, she had never met Daemons family yet her heart ached for the woman, every woman had feared of childbirth, all of them were willing to take the risk for their kins still their hearts skipped a beat when the labour pains began.
Daemon saw the pain in his lady wives eyes, he took her hands to place kisses on her knuckles as a way to comfort her, they didn’t have to speak about it, the eyes said everything that needed to be spoken.
“Do you want to go?”
“My brother pleaded, he wishes to be introduced to our children”
“I did not ask about your brother, I asked what do you want”
Daemon was thankful for his wife for countless reasons, one of them was her patience with him and the way she made him feel important, all his life he spend yelling to be heard and now he had someone that he could whisper to. Daemon kissed his wife on the lips softly as a way to say thank you to her, he was never good with words so physical touch was his way of showing gratitude.
“We shall leave on the morrow”
-
(Y/n) rode on her husbands dragon as she held on to him tightly, she could see why Daemon and her children loved riding so much, the peaceful feeling mixed with the power it brings, it was addicting to say the least.
After the family landed the first one to touch ground was Daemon who was careful enough to assist (y/n) by holding her waist until her feet are steady, (y/n) rushed to the eldest daughter Alyssa whom was holding little Johanna, her hatchling was way too small and she was far too young to ride, Alyssa had volunteered as to being the one to hold her sister for the ride.
(y/n) took the babe in her arms and she quite envied how it was the only one that was dressed in white clothing, (y/n) had to prepare an all black dress in just a few hours which had been a struggle given the fact that her babe was due any minute now.
“How was she?”
“I believe she slept the entire way, she seemed to stir awake as we were landing”
Alyssa always felt the responsibility for her siblings, her parents had embedded in her brain “family sticks together” that they would repeat almost every day. (Y/n) turned back to her husband with their daughter on her hip, Daemon was already greeted by his brother, king Viserys.
(Y/n)s courage seemed to waver for a moment as she did not make a step to approach the two brothers, they had never been introduced since the couple had eloped in pentos and resided there for their entirety of their wedding.
“(Y/n)”
Daemon spoke softly, his hand reaching out for her. (Y/n) pushed every bad thought aside and made her way to her husbands side with their daughter, as she stopped king Viserys smiled brightly, his eyes immediately focusing on the little girl.
“Gods be good, how old?”
“She is almost two, her name is johanna after my mother”
“Beautiful, congratulations brother you have been blessed with a wonderful family. May I hold her?”
“Of course… your grace”
(Y/n) did not quite know how to address him, alas she passed Johanna to king Viserys who beamed with joy as he held her. Johanna was not a difficult child nor did she cry a lot, she seemed quite comfortable in her uncles arms.
“My apologies I completely ignored your lady wife and we have never been introduced. What is your name?”
“I am (y/n)… your grace”
She introduced herself as she took a small curtsy, well as low as her condition allowed to do so without falling down. technically pentos was a free country yet the soul of the ground she was now stepping on was under the Targaryen legacy so it was almost obligating. King Viserys laughed lightly at (y/n)s uneasiness, at first he was furious at his brother running off to marry a nobody, as the years passed and caught wind of how Daemon was content with his family and had brought so many children with the woman, his heart soften.
“You needn’t bow dear, we are family. I have heard tales about your choice in the matter of giving birth”
“My mother gave birth to twelve children, she always said how nobody knows better than the woman”
“Your mother was fearless but some assistance would never hurt”
“If my time comes while I give birth to my children then there is nothing a… man can do, it is something above our powers and so far I have been victorious”
“I assume there is no greater force than the force of a mother. Let us join the others, it is almost time for the ceremony”
In pentos they spoke bastard Valyrian so (y/n) could somewhat understand what the man was saying as he send his niece away to the afterlife. (Y/n) clung on to her husband for comfort as the ceremony brought her worry and sadness, being surrounded by unfamiliar faces that grieved in a ceremony of a woman she never met brought a certain discomfort to (y/n).
Daemon gave his wife’s hand a squeeze as he leaned down to place a kiss on the top of her head, Daemon feared for her life every time she was to give birth, he was never a religious man yet internally he would pray to the old and new gods for a safe delivery.
“Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the shore. Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will all remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin.”
Before (y/n) could comprehend what was said and the reason behind those sly remarks when the man gazed at a woman who had her arms wrapped around two boys the ceremony was interrupted by a baby crying in the near distance, her ears perked up at the sound of her youngest daughter wails. Alyssa tried to shush the babe to no avail, the child was begging for it’s mother, (y/n) fleeted her husbands side to soothe her baby and to also make it stop crying while the ceremony is taking place.
“I’m sorry mother”
“It’s alright Alyssa, Johanna is probably hungry, aren’t you my little sunshine?”
The babe settled as (y/n) rocked Johanna in her arms, she did not try to go back in her place, they had already brought enough attention to them for now, she remained close to her children who all surrounded her, it was quite the scene as 5 children build a wall around a woman that looked nothing like them.
Alyssa had her grandmothers eyes, one was violet and the other green, the triplets had silver white hair but all had different colour eyes, prince Aevor was a spitting image of his father, princess Eraessa had green eyes and Aerellahad violet, Victor had inherited his grandfathers black colour and Johanna seemed to match her sister with violet eyes and a few strands of black hair intertwined with her silver hair.
All of them looked like Targaryens which had caused a stir in everyone’s hearts along with judgement, there she was a woman that had no correlation to the Targaryen bloodline or any type of royal bloodline yet her children looked like what true born heirs should be.
“How is moon and my stars?”
Daemon would call his family that at the explanation of the moon and the stars were the only way you could find home while sailing or riding dragons. Daemon cradled his youngest daughter in his arms to ease the weight his wife was carrying, she was already burdened with a child in her guts she mustn’t hold another.
“Father can we go explore please?”
“Of course, Alyssa please escort your siblings, make sure they are safe”
“Of course father”
As the kids scurried away little Johanna was the only one that remained, she was too young to go with the others. (Y/n) turned to her husband with a disapproving look
“Alyssa is a child my love we mustn’t put such responsibility on her”
“She is our first born and she is perfectly capable of protecting her siblings, you coddle her”
“Would that be so bad? To keep my child safe and allow her to enjoy her adolescence?”
“Alyssa looks like our mother, she always spoke of how we could never get rid of her and it is only natural that she chose you to make her way back to us”
Daemons brother interrupted the quarrel as he approached them, a blonde haired woman who (y/n) assumed was close or maybe a year younger next to him, she was the one that the man was staring at when he spoke. What made (y/n) question the woman’s approach was how she took in her husband, it reminded (y/n) of a hawk inspecting its prey.
Daemon was amazed when he first took in Alyssa’s appearance, it was only fair that the babe got his mothers name, under the light of the full moon he swore to sacrifice everyone to keep his family safe.
“Mothers spirit could not be stopped by death, sometimes when she gets frustrated I swear it is our mother hiding behind my daughters eyes”
“Alyssa might have your mothers name but she is her own person and she will write her own story. Such expectations are a heavy burden for a young girl”
(Y/n) interrupted, she understood her husbands love and devotion to their family still she was also a mother and she wanted her child to have a quiet and happy life, to live without a target on her back, Daemon was driven by ambition, (y/n) was driven by compassion.
Viserys smiled fondly at the young woman, he detected the powerful urge of the mother spreading her wings to protect her young ones. The woman on his side kept looking at Daemon, (y/n) doubted that she even heard any part of the conversation, she also could feel that the woman was waiting to be greeted or for her presence to be acknowledged.
Daemon brought his wife closer to him by a gentle grip on her waist, sometimes he would forget that his wife had a backbone of her own and was not easily persuaded when it came to such delicate matters, he had fought wars and seen the worst in people, still he took a step back when it came to his wife. Their dynamic worked only if both of them made the effort, Daemon was the protector when it came to the outside but indoors (y/n) had the final decision.
“You bled for them, you decide”
Daemon had once muttered to her, it was a sign of respect from him, he was forever in her debt for the continuation of her sacrifices to expand their family.
“If I didn’t know any better I would say your wife has dragons blood in her dear uncle”
“Pentos is a free country my lady, we have fought for our freedom, allow me to say we have our own fire that burns bright”
“(Y/n) this is my daughter Rhaenyra, my heir”
“Pleasure to meet you princess”
“Likewise, is this your child?”
“One of them yes, her name is Johanna, I believe the entire trip and ceremony tired her out”
(Y/n) cooed at her baby girl as she petted the girls silver hair, Johanna had leaned into her fathers shoulder with her eyes half closed, poor thing was fighting against slumber.
Rhaenyra felt a pain in her heart as she looked at the couple, Daemon had never been so gentle with Rhaenyra or anyone for that matter, now he didn’t even spare a glimpse in her direction as he was occupied with gazing lovingly at his wife, she felt jealousy boil in her heart thinking she was supposed to be the one in (y/n)s place.
“One of them?”
“Yes, the gods have been quite generous, we have 6 children now”
“Such… great news”
She mumbled. Rhaenyra was stunned, 6 children. Daemon had never discussed the matter of children in the past, now he fathered 6 kids and another one was on the way. Rhaenyra felt the ground disappear beneath her feet as her heart beat so fast she could swear that it was going to come out from her throat.
“Excuse me”
Rhaenyra managed to grumbled as she stumbled away from the couple, she could not believe what she had witness. Rhaenyra did her best to keep her composure until she was out of sight, not only has her first love moved on and has a happy family -something that she was robbed from- he had now unintentionally blown her cover and paraded his Targaryen featured children for everyone.
Part two
Requests are open!
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drgnmnts · 2 months
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knuckles bruised (like violets) │ jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!OC
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Title: knuckles bruised (like violets)
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!OC (Daenys Targaryen, daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Alicent Hightower)
Summary: There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, especially for those caught in between, longing only for peace as they're met with fire and blood.
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Chapter 2 - A Fair Exchange
Word count: 3.1K (sorry)
Laena Velaryon was dead. 
The details of her passing brought tears to Daenys’ eyes: burned alive by her dragon as an act of mercy, following complications during her baby's delivery. Daenys recalled Laena from a visit to King’s Landing a few years prior; she remembered feeling jealous of how lovingly Laena treated her daughters— the kindness in her eyes when she looked at them, the honey in her voice as she called their names. 
It was decided that they would all depart for Driftmark right away— Daenys, Aegon, and Helaena on their dragons, while the rest sailed to the island. She would never admit it to them, but Daenys loved flying with her siblings, especially with Aegon: he was insufferable on land, always drowning in his cups and picking on the weak, but while riding Sunfyre he turned into someone high-spirited and lively. It was the only time Daenys felt truly close to her eldest brother. As they both circled around Dreamfyre, trying to playfully disrupt Helaena’s imperturbability, Daenys was able to catch sight of Rhaenyra’s family, coming from Dragonstone opposite to them: her half-sister on the beautiful Syrax, hatched from one of Silverwing’s eggs when it was placed in Rhaenyra’s cradle as a babe; Jacaerys on his young dragon Vermax; and Lucerys on Arrax. Seasmoke was nowhere to be found, and Daenys guessed Ser Laenor was probably already at Driftmark, sick with grief. The fear of ever losing one of her siblings haunted her thoughts for the rest of the journey. 
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High Tide was damp and dark, but there was something about the Sea Snake’s castle that Daenys found enthralling. The marble of its walls looked like mother-of-pearl in the afternoon sun, and its halls were as beautiful as they were unsettling, crowded with bronze statues covered in corals and sea sediments that reminded every visitor of the Velaryons’ deep connection with the sea.
The families were gathered at the low cliff by Blackwater Bay, the one which Daenys assumed was intended for ritualistic purposes. She could make out the coffin containing Lady Laena’s remains by the edge of the cliff, the narrow box carved to resemble the woman’s appearance. After Vaemond Velaryon’s speech about the thickness of their blood—an odd choice since it had little to do with Lady Laena’s legacy—the guests moved to a small plateau where, as per tradition, they were to wait for the tide to carry the casket further out to sea. 
Standing by her brothers, Daenys noticed Rhaenyra speaking to her eldest son, which reminded her of the abrupt and rather suspicious death of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin Strong only a couple days prior. If the rumors were true, which Daenys was certain they were, perhaps Jacaerys was sad. Just as Baela and Rhaena had lost their mother, Jace and Luke had lost their father. Daenys wondered if someone had offered their condolences to the boys in any way, but quickly discarded the thought.
“We have nothing in common,” Aegon declared as he observed Helaena with a furrowed brow and a cup of wine in his hand.
“Have you ever tried to at least show her any regard for her interests?” Daenys asked him, squinting up at him against the sun.
“What interests, exactly? Bugs and riddles?” he inquired, making a face. “She’s just so… odd.”
“She’s our sister,” Aemond intervened.
“You marry her, then,” replied Aegon.
“I would perform my duty, if mother had only betrothed us.”
“If only,” Aegon scoffed. “We can exchange, if you want. You marry her, and I’ll marry this one,” he added, pointing at Daenys with a nod of his head. “At least I know she wouldn't bother me, since she spends more time in the sky than at home.”
“I would rather have my dragon chew me up,” Daenys deadpanned, Aemond chuckling next to her. 
After a grimace and a long sip of wine, Aegon intercepted a cup-bearer. “We actually do have one thing in common,” he said, giving his siblings a look as he took another cup, “we both fancy creatures with very long legs.”
Daenys gagged at her brother’s comment, to which he replied by smacking her on the back of her head.
“Aegon!” she protested, hitting him back as he laughed, but the sibling squabble was quickly brought to an end by Queen Alicent’s reprimand.
“What is the meaning of this?!” she whispered, her eyes on Daenys.
“He started it!” the girl tried to excuse herself, and this time her mother believed her, swiftly sending Aegon away from the group to take his mischief elsewhere, out of everyone’s sight. 
“I’ve told you many times, Daenys, you must not fall into your brother’s provocations,” Alicent warned, fixing her daughter’s hair where Aegon had hit her. “Why don’t you go speak with the girls? I am sure they could use a kind word from someone their age.”
Daenys nodded, eager to comply with her mother’s instructions, and immediately made way to where Baela and Rhaena were sitting. The twins offered her a sad smile as she approached them, making room for her on the wooden bench.
After a moment of comfortable silence, Daenys spoke.
“Did you know that my dragon was born from one of Vhagar’s eggs?”
At the mention of their mother’s dragon, both girls smiled as they nodded.
“I’ve always wondered if dragons can… sense who their mother is. Silverwing does have her occasional spat at Sunfyre, but I believe that is just because he’s Aegon’s,” she said, making the girls chuckle.
“It would be nice to see Silverwing interact with Vhagar, but she is too sad now…” said Rhaena, looking down. 
“And without a rider…” added Baela.
“Then you should claim her,” Daenys quickly resolved, grabbing Rhaena’s hand. “Wouldn’t it be nice to ride your mother’s dragon?”
Rhaena smiled timidly, and Baela spoke what her sister was thinking.
“She still waits for her egg to hatch. I’ve told her many times to just let it go, but… she keeps her faith.”
Daenys nodded, understanding. “It’s a rare gift, bonding with the dragon given to you at birth. I can see why you would want to hold on to it.”
Rhaena thanked her kindly, finding comfort in the princess’ sympathetic words. Before she could speak further about the topic, the three of them noticed Jacaerys standing next to them. He seemed unsure, hesitant, probably having been sent to speak to the girls by his mother, just like Alicent had sent Daenys.
Daenys found it difficult to meet his gaze, for the brown in his eyes told a story of treason and deception. Yet, she felt inexplicably drawn to them, as if Jace were some creature from a bedtime story rather than just a boy.
“Sorry,” he blurted out, looking at his feet. His shoes were dirty, covered in ash from riding his dragon. Queen Alicent would never allow her children to walk around in unkempt clothes.
“Thank you, Jace,” said Baela, smiling warmly at him.
The boy was clearly not a wordsmith, unable to elaborate on his condolences any further. Instead, he just stood there, holding Rhaena’s hand, until Princess Rhaenys came to comfort her granddaughters, allowing him to slip away.
Giving them their privacy to mourn their loss, Daenys quietly followed Jace to a nearby firepit, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows between them. She couldn't explain the impulse that led her to speak.
“I was sorry to hear about Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin,” she uttered, keeping her gaze fixed on the flickering fire to avoid his eyes. “They were kind.”
The princess could feel Jacaerys’ eyes on her, perhaps filled with confusion, or gratitude, or distrust. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to know. 
As Jace poised to speak, Daenys simply turned around, retracing her steps to her mother’s side without uttering another word. 
Queen Alicent stood tall, engaged in a quiet conversation with Ser Criston Cole, her sworn protector. Daenys held a fondness for Ser Criston; he had taught her archery and the nuances of horseriding, despite her insistence that mastering the latter was second nature to her as a dragonrider. He was ever-present, a stalwart guardian always ready to assist, escort, teach and protect.
Her mother acknowledged her presence by concluding her conversation with Cole, and turned her gaze to Daenys with expectation.
“The girls feel better, I think,” she informed. “We talked about dragons.”
“Of course you did,” Ser Criston quipped, eliciting a smile from Daenys.
“Good girl,” her mother approved, gently stroking Daenys’ hair. The brief display of affection quickened Daenys’ heartbeat, leaving her to ponder if this was Alicent’s way of apologizing for the incident the other day.
“Perhaps I could show them Silverwing up close tomorrow, if Uncle Daemon allows it. I gather they would like it.”
Alicent breathed a sigh and nodded at her daughter’s suggestion 
“You can ask him later, should he be willing to talk.”
“Yes, he must be terribly upset…” Daenys concurred with solemnity, missing Ser Criston’s glance at her mother upon the mention of Daemon’s grief for Lady Laena.
The crowd parted to make way for King Viserys. It was growing late, and the ceremony was becoming too long for him to remain outside. Viserys had his good and bad days, and on the latter, Daenys often wondered how she would feel if he were to pass away. Would she feel grief, or sadness? Would tears come as easily to her as they did now for Baela and Rhaena, mourning the loss of their beloved mother?
Daenys bowed her head as her father walked past her.
“I’m going to bed, Aemma,” he announced.
The confusion was nothing new. Daenys had lost count of how many times her father had mistakenly referred to her by Rhaenyra’s name, especially since his illness had begun to deteriorate not only his body, but his mind as well. 
“Shall I see after Queen Alicent, Your Grace?” Ser Harrold asked, attempting to gently remind the king of his wife’s name, but Daenys knew the damage had already been done.
As Viserys retreated inside, Daenys squeezed her mother’s hand. Queen Alicent, momentarily paralyzed by her husband’s error, met her daughter’s gaze, finding within it a look of the purest sympathy. For a fleeting moment, it seemed she might embrace Daenys, but instead, Alicent let go of the girl’s gentle grip on her hand.
“Go with your sister,” she ordered coldly, and walked away from Daenys, Ser Criston following closely behind his queen.
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It was well past the hour of the Owl when Helaena woke her sister with a gentle shake on the shoulder, Daenys making a great effort to open her eyes as she had been deep in her sleep just mere seconds before.
“Something’s happened,” Helaena announced, her tone filled with anguish, prompting Daenys to sit up immediately.
“Are you hurt?” Daenys asked, reaching for her sister's arm to check for injuries despite the dimness in the chamber. 
“Not me,” the girl reassured, already getting out of bed.
“Where are you going?” she questioned, still confused and groggy from sleep.
Pausing in her steps, Helaena turned to her sister. “Will you come with me? I’m afraid to go alone,” she pleaded, looking once more like the youngest of the two instead of the other way around.
Unable to deny her sister, Daenys threw back the bed covers and joined Helaena by the door, both of them barefoot and clad in their sleeping gowns.
Slowly opening the door, Daenys's heart sank as she saw several guards rushing down the corridor, confirming her sister’s premonition.
Now filled with curiosity and a strange fear, the girl followed them quietly with Helaena right behind her, fist clutching Daenys’ robe. Together, they arrived at the room of the Driftwood Throne, where chaos reigned. 
The boys were there: Aegon, Jace, and Luke, and so was Ser Criston, Ser Harrold, and the King.  Baela and Rhaena stood aside, embracing each other. Sitting on a chair, Aemond sniffled, their mother at his side while a maester examined his bloody face. Heart shrunk in anguish at the sight of his injury, Daenys took a few steps closer, gasping in horror as she realized that her dear brother was missing one eye.
“Wh- How did this happen?” she was able to ask, wincing as she watched the maester finish stitching the boy’s flesh.
“I claimed Vhagar,” Aemond answered, and Daenys thought she saw a hint of satisfaction in the curl of his lip, despite the pain.
Before she could even begin to question how he had gotten his injury, Ser Criston effortlessly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her away from the horrid scene.
“Baela, Rhaena!” called Princess Rhaenys, descending a nearby staircase with Lord Corlys close behind. “What happened?”
Almost simultaneously, Rhaenyra hurried into the room with Daemon, rushing to check on her sons, who sported bloody noses and scratches on their cheeks.
Upon the Princess' inquiry into her sons' injuries, accusations flew from both sides of the dispute while Aegon, Daenys, and Helaena watched with a mix of doubt and curiosity. Only after the King commanded silence did the protests from both parties cease.
“Aemond,” he called, visibly exhausted as he approached the boy, using his cane for support. “I will have the truth of what happened. Now.”
“What else is there to hear?” Alicent questioned on behalf of her son. “Your son has been maimed; her son is responsible.”
“It was a regrettable accident,” Rhaenyra defended, further infuriating Alicent.
“Accident? The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son,” she declared, and the image of the knife cutting through her brother’s face made Daenys’ stomach turn.
“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them,” Rhaenyra stated firmly. “The legitimacy of my sons’ births was put loudly to question.”
“What?” questioned the King. It was still a mystery to Daenys how her father could be so short-sighted when it came to his grandchildren’s parentage.
“He called us bastards,” Jace interjected, and Daenys was once again unable to meet his eyes, fearing he might accuse her of all the times she had participated in her brother’s mistreatment of the Velaryon boys.
“Aemond,” Viserys called once more, bending slightly to meet his son’s gaze. “Look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”
Daenys felt her mother tense next to her as she waited with bated breath for her son to answer the question, knowing full well she had been the one to share the truth of the matter with all her children.
She had nothing to worry about, however, as Aemond’s loyalty to their mother was unwavering.
“It was Aegon,” he lied, and it even caught their eldest brother by surprise, as Viserys quickly advanced towards him demanding he confess where he had heard the accusations. 
“We know, Father. Everyone knows,” Aegon replied, eyes still fixed forward. “Just look at them.”
The silence that befell the room felt asphixiating, broken only by Viserys’ comandment for harmony between the younglings. 
Otto Hightower, who had been observing from afar until then, approached the King and whispered something in his ear. Viserys nodded, glancing briefly at Daenys before clearing his throat to speak again.
"I believe this is an opportune moment to announce the decision the Hand and I have reached, in hopes this endless strife may finally cease," he addressed those gathered.
"Father," Rhaenyra interrupted, briefly meeting Daenys' eyes, leaving her more confused than before. "Do you think now is the best time to tell her? After tonight's events?"
Daenys looked up at her mother in search for an answer, but the woman’s eyes were fixed on her husband, wide in panic as if she already knew what was coming.
“What is the meaning of this, Viserys?” she dared to ask.
The King held his wife’s gaze, unbothered by her tone. “After conversing this afternoon with Princess Rhaenyra about the future of House Targaryen and House Velaryon, we have decided that my daughter, Daenys, shall marry her son, Jacaerys, when they’ve both reached the appropriate age.”
As soon as those words left her father’s mouth, Daenys’ face, which had been tinted a soft shade of pink from the adrenaline of such an unfortunate night, turned pale as if she had suddenly transformed into a corpse. She opened her mouth, but the torrent of words piling up on the tip of her tongue failed to come out, as she felt an unfamiliar tingle at the tips of her fingers.
“No,” Alicent disagreed immediately, shaking her head as she firmly grabbed her daughter’s wrist, keeping her close. “No, you may do as you please when I’m dead, but I will not have my children taken from me anymore; you’ve already sent Daeron away, such thing will not happen again.”
“The decision is final, Alicent,” said Ser Otto, not a trace of fatherly love in the way he looked at her. “I understand your discontent, but this is for the good of the realm.”
“This proceeding is at an end,” the King declared, already turning towards the corridor connecting the throne room with the apartments. “The Princess Daenys shall part for Dragonstone on the morrow, accompanying her sister and her family, and remain there until they decide to return to King’s Landing. Is that understood?”
No one dared to utter a word. The crackling flames emanating from the fireplace felt suffocating instead of comforting, and Daenys’ eyesight became blurry as the tingling sensation from her fingers spread up to her head.
The events that followed happened too quickly: Alicent rushed to grab Aegon the Conqueror’s blade from Viserys’ belt, wielding it as she charged at Rhaenyra, who was quick to stop her before she could harm her. Screams and commands surrounded the scene, chaos reigning once again.
“You’ve gone too far,” Rhaenyra accused, arms keeping Alicent —and the blade— as far away from her as possible.
“I? What have I done but what was expected of me?” the Queen cried. “And now, not happy with having taken my poor son’s eye, you wish to rip my daughter from me? She’s mine, Rhaenyra, mine!”
“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. The kingdom, the family, the law: you don’t care about those things, only yourself…” Rhaenyra affirmed, her voice wavering with the effort of keeping Alicent away. “But now they see you as you are…”
The sound of Valyrian steel cutting flesh silenced the room immediately. The women separated, and everyone, included Alicent, watched in consternation as blood slid down the Princess’ arm. 
The silence was broken by Daenys’ small voice.
“Mummy?” she called, before collapsing onto the cold stone floor.
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Just some quality time with family, what could go wrong?
The time jump is coming, just bear with me!
Also, Daenys being a little devil on every single dragon-less Targaryen's shoulder whispering to them to 👏 just 👏 claim 👏 one 👏.
If you liked this, let me know in any way! :)
Series Taglist: @void21, @burningwitchobject
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coolcoolcoolbutwtf · 9 months
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Danny bloody in raptor form: Rawr?
Small stabby child who started hunting him the moment he was spotted: "I will find you and get you the best care a reptile can get. And then you are coming home with me." >:<
Danny Covered in blood from the clown he just chomped the arm off tilting his head: confused™ rawr?
Some gun wilding guy in a red helmet: "Naw brat she's coming home with me. Look at all that blood it's from the joker fuck getting his arm chew off. We're clearly kindred spirits so she's coming with me. My kin and I."
Stabby child on him com: "father red hood is interfering with my mission and being a nuisance! He is clearly suffering from some head injury and shouldn't be interfering with my mission."
Danny in the background being started at by red hood. Slowly tilting his head the other way Hood copying him and doing the same thing.
On com: "Robin be on guard and keep your eyes on the target. Nightwing and I will arrive shortly."
Red hood somehow holding eye contact with the dinosaur watching it slowly bend down taking the severed arm in its sharp teeth filled mouth. And then slowly backing away from both of the humans and booking it down the street.
Danny internally: "shit shit shit I do not wanna be captured by some weirdos at night dressed in spandex and weird masks. Especially since I just got my clown snack. My snack they can get their own!
Oh, maybe I have been transformed for too long. I'm munching on an arm,a human arm! And I'm thinking about eating it, no ew me.
.
.
.
I'm still going to eat it because it's mine now and my snack."
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Danny with the Batfam. Danny is not the raptor though:)
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koiifysh · 3 months
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Remnants of the Heart ⟡˖ ࣪
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contents: Family trauma | Attachment issues | Trust issues | Hurt/Comfort
The constant arguments between your parents. All the trauma dumping on you. But when you needed someone, no one was there for you.
Growing up, the way these things affected you emotionally weighed you down so much
You had a hard time opening up to your parents. Kept everything to yourself. Barely let your friends know the real truth.
You didn't bother much about it. Yes some random nights you would burst out crying from a childhood trauma. Or get envious of seeing other's relations with their siblings because even your own kin always shut you out.
But even after all this, you made it through everyday. You don't know how, but you did. If there was one person there for you, it was you alone. It was always you. At least that's what you thought.
From highschool to later adult life, Zayne has always been a good friend to you and now your primary care doctor.
He knew its and bits about your family problems and your own emotional problems. He's a doctor, he knew about your emotional stability.
Between the two of you, Zayne was more reserved. You were so transparent, a bright light that got along with everyone.
But there was a part of you that was kept hidden so well that not even Zayne could enter. And it always bothered him.
It bothered him how such a free spirited person could have a place in there heart that was forbidden for him to know about.
Zayne didn't know when he started to see you more than just a friend. Maybe he never really saw you as just a friend.
Your affection towards Zayne weren't all platonic either. Your heart yearned for him.
But afraid to tell him, afraid of getting attached to him. To make him yours.
Friendships have a safe boundary. But when you're in love, you pour your hearts out to each other.
When Zayne confronted you about his feelings, you felt scared. You wanted to run. No. You should be happy. He reciprocates. Why are you scared?
Zayne was a family friend. He knew about your family. About you. He knows you and understands you so well that sometimes you think he's peeking right inside your heart, your mind.
Running away from home and crying in the swings. Walking aimlessly towards home from school, because you cried yourself to sleep and didn't even get much sleep. Late night calls to make sure you're feeling okay. He was all there.
Yet why that forbidden part of your heart couldn't let him in? What more must he do to gain your trust. He would do anything. He might not show it, but Zayne would do anything for you.
So when he took your hands in his and gently opened up to you yet again about how he felt for you. Saying he was there for you no matter what and uttered those three most precious words, you couldn't keep it in anymore.
You burst out crying. Exactly like you did when you were nine, all alone as a child. Quiet sniffles so that no one heard you.
But now, you couldn't even keep it in. Sobbing loudly like a child as he took you in his arms and let you cry it out.
He never understood how anyone could hurt someone with a good heart. You weren't naive or maybe you were, but you never understood the complexities of human beings, their complex emotions.
You never understood what you did wrong for your mother to not listen to you. You never understood what you did wrong for your sister to shut you out. You never understood what you did wrong for your father to see you as a burden.
You never understood any of it.
But Zayne, he knows your pain. He understands it. He's your best friend, your soulmate.
He understands the pain your heart has gone through. The traumas, the betrayals, he knows it all.
"From now on," he kneels down in front of you. "I want you to know that I'm yours." With his thumb he wipes your tears away. "That your heart is safe with mine." Zayne puts your hands on his chest. "Because I knew from the start that I can't trust my heart with anyone but you."
You've never felt this much love. You could only sob in pain because you weren't able to say anything to him. You loved him. You loved him so much. But you felt so helpless.
"I love you." He whispered.
"I love you too." Your cries inflicted pain upon him. "I love you a lot. I'm so sorry." He didn't know why you were apologizing.
You always blamed yourself for anything bad to do with your family. That's how it's always been.
Felt isolated all this time thinking you had no one. But there he was, offering his heart to you, looking at you with eyes that spoke of love and that you were the only one that mattered. Nothing compares to you.
He waited, patiently for you to let him in.
He loved you, silently as to not scare you away.
He healed you, with love because love was all he had for you.
His heart was long given to you, because you were his safe space. His one and only.
But now, you had someone to call yours. Someone who would put you first above anything and anyone.
Someone to call 'home'.
All this time, home was but a place to you which you desperately searched for. Never realizing your true home lied within the person whose fate is intertwined with yours.
. ❄️♡
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lvoryingrid · 4 months
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Whispers in the Sand
Gaara x fem!Reader
Synopsis: In Sunagakure, (Y/n) befriends Gaara, a boy feared for the beast inside him. Despite the village's scorn, their bond deepens. After Gaara is critically injured, (Y/n) stays by his side. Lady Chiyo sacrifices herself to revive him, and Gaara awakens to (Y/n)'s tearful relief and confession of love, promising a future together.
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In the bustling village of Sunagakure, where the sun painted the sandstone buildings in hues of gold, whispers danced like shadows in the dusty streets. Among those murmurs, there lingered a tale that had woven its way into the very fabric of the village—a story of a boy with a beast trapped within him, a tale that had haunted the hearts of the villagers for generations.
(Y/n) had known this story since she was a mere child, her young ears catching the fragments of hushed conversations between elders and the nervous glances exchanged between parents. It was a narrative shrouded in mystery, one that sent shivers down her spine even as she sat by the hearth, listening intently.
The tale spoke of a boy, his name whispered in tones of both fear and pity, who carried within him a beast of unimaginable power. Some said it was a curse bestowed upon him by ancient spirits, while others whispered of dark rituals performed by his own kin. But regardless of its origins, the boy's burden was undeniable—a monstrous force that lay dormant within him, waiting to be unleashed.
His hair blazed like fire, a crimson beacon amidst the mundane, while his eyes, icy and enigmatic, seemed to hold secrets untold. To the villagers, he was the embodiment of fear, a specter of darkness with a name stained by rumors and whispered tales of horror. They whispered of his alleged crimes, of a mother slain by her own son's hand, painting him as a monster lurking in their midst.
Yet, to (Y/n), he was something different. She saw beyond the whispers, beyond the shroud of fear that enveloped him. To her, he was simply a boy, no different from herself, burdened by loneliness and yearning for connection. With courage as fragile as a delicate petal, she approached him one day, her heart pounding against her chest like the drumbeat of a distant storm. Her hand, small and trembling, reached out in a gesture of friendship, offering a lifeline amidst the sea of suspicion and dread.
"Hi, I'm (Y/n)," she uttered softly, her voice a beacon of warmth cutting through the chilling silence that surrounded him like a suffocating mist. In that moment, her smile, genuine and unguarded, illuminated the darkness that had cloaked him for so long, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of his haunted existence.
In a moment etched in time, he finally surrendered to a glimmer of hope, his lips curving into a smile as he reached out and clasped her hand. In that delicate exchange, a profound bond ignited, weaving their souls together in an unbreakable bond. Despite the relentless storm of disapproval raining down upon them, they stood resolute, united against the world's scorn. Their friendship blossomed, a radiant beacon of resilience amidst the darkness, defying all odds with every shared moment, every whispered secret, every heartfelt laugh.
On that fateful night, the tranquility of the village shattered into chaos as the deafening explosion tore through the air. (Y/n) felt her heart lurch with fear as the ominous sound reverberated through her bones.
The next day, when she laid eyes on him, her heart sank. He was there, but he wasn't the same. The warmth that once radiated from his presence had been extinguished, replaced by an icy, distant demeanor. It was as if a shadow had consumed him, leaving behind only a shell of the person she once knew.
Despite her desperate attempts to reach him, he remained unreachable, lost in the grip of his inner turmoil. His once vibrant eyes now held a haunting emptiness, reflecting the torment of the monster that now consumed him. And as he turned away, ignoring her presence, (Y/n) felt a surge of heartache, realizing that the person she cherished had become the very thing they had all feared.
Years had passed since Gaara of the Desert had become the embodiment of fear in the village, living up to the bleak reputation that the villagers had painted for him. His departure for Konoha to partake in the Chūnin Exams left a bitter taste lingering in the air, with his sand nearly grazing her as she timidly approached to wish him luck.
Upon his return to the village from Konoha, Gaara was scarcely recognizable. The once stoic and aloof figure had softened, radiating an unfamiliar warmth, calmness, and genuine happiness. It was a transformation that caught everyone off guard, especially (Y/n), who had known him in his previous, more hardened state.
Then, one day, he approached her, his eyes betraying a profound sense of remorse and regret. It was a stark contrast to the coldness she had grown accustomed to, and it stirred something within her—a glimmer of hope, perhaps, that there was more to Gaara than the menacing facade he had worn for so long.
"(Y/n)," he spoke, his voice trembling with emotion, each syllable heavy with regret. His words, though soft, echoed with the weight of his remorse. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the apology hanging in the air, laden with the depths of his sorrow.
Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes as she looked at him, her heart overflowing with emotions. "You were always my friend, no matter what," she whispered, a smile gracing her lips as she reached out to him, her hand finding his.
Tears cascaded down (Y/n)'s cheeks like a relentless waterfall as she stood beside Gaara's motionless form, her heart gripped by a vice of anguish and fear. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the thought of losing him, of never again seeing the warmth in his emerald eyes. Their shared memories rushed back to her, not willing them to die off.
As (Y/n) stood beside Gaara's motionless form, her voice trembled with desperation as she pleaded for him to return. "Gaara, please," she whispered, her words a fragile echo in the silent void that surrounded them. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the sand beneath her feet as she clutched his hand tightly, as if trying to anchor him to the world.
"Come back to us, Gaara," she begged, her voice cracking with emotion. "You're not alone anymore. We're here for you. I'm here for you." Her heart ached with each word, every syllable a testament to the depth of her love and concern for her friend
But Gaara remained still, his form unmoving, as if trapped in a world of his own making. The weight of his inner turmoil seemed insurmountable, a barrier separating him from the world outside.
In the midst of her despair, (Y/n) felt a stirring within her soul as Naruto's voice pierced the heavy silence. His words echoed with a mixture of sadness and anger, mirroring the tumultuous emotions swirling within her own heart.
"Why is it always Gaara?" Naruto's voice rang out, resonating with a raw intensity that demanded attention. He stood beside her, his gaze fixed on Gaara's still form with a depth of emotion that sent shivers down her spine. "How could he die like this?"
As Naruto knelt beside her, his voice quivering with grief and frustration, (Y/n) felt the weight of his words pressing down on her like a heavy burden. She knew the pain he felt, the sense of injustice that threatened to consume them both.
And then, as Lady Chiyo intervened with a voice like the hollow echo of despair "Calm yourself, Uzumaki Naruto." her gaze hollow toward the young boy, (Y/n)'s attention remained fixated on Gaara's pale face, her fingers gently caressing his hair as if to coax him back to consciousness.
But Naruto's anguish erupted into a desperate cry, tearing through the air like a thunderclap. "If you, you damn Sand shinobi didn't put that monster inside Gaara, then..." His accusation hung in the air, a stark reminder of the pain and suffering inflicted upon Gaara by forces beyond his control.
As (Y/n) gently caressed Gaara's fiery red hair, her mind drifted back to a memory not so distant. It was just a while ago when he had shared with her his impending appointment as Kazekage, his eyes alight with determination and hope. "No one deserves it more," she had said, her heart swelling with pride for her friend. But now, as reality settled in, she realized that his newfound responsibilities would inevitably mean less time together.
Her sadness didn't go unnoticed by Gaara, his perceptive gaze catching the subtle shift in her demeanor. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft yet laden with concern as he turned to her.
(Y/n) shook her head, a feeble attempt to mask the turmoil within her heart. "It's nothing," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
But Gaara knew her too well to be deceived by her facade. With a gentle touch, he turned her face towards him, his eyes searching hers for answers. "Please, (Y/n)," he urged, his voice a gentle plea. "You can tell me."
For a moment, (Y/n) hesitated, her cheeks a light tint of pink as the weight of her emotions threatened to spill forth like a torrential downpour. But then, with a resigned sigh, she relented, allowing her walls to crumble in the presence of her trusted friend.
"It's just...," her voice faltered, choked with unspoken fears and regrets. "I'm happy for you, Gaara, truly. But... I can't help but feel a sense of loss knowing that we won't be able to spend as much time together."
Her words hung in the air like a fragile thread, tethering them to the reality of their changing circumstances. And as Gaara listened, a mixture of understanding and sadness flickered in his eyes.
"(Y/n)," he began, his voice gentle yet filled with unwavering resolve. "I may have new responsibilities as Kazekage, but that doesn't mean we have to change. You've always been there for me, through thick and thin, and I intend to do the same for you."
As Gaara's words washed over her with sincerity and conviction, (Y/n) felt a rush of emotions swirling within her heart. His reassurance offered her a lifeline amidst the turbulent sea of uncertainty that stretched out before them. In that fleeting moment, as their eyes locked in silent understanding, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of something more than mere friendship stirring within her soul.
For years, (Y/n) had harbored hidden feelings for Gaara, emotions too complex and profound to put into words. She had watched him from afar, admiring his strength and resilience, yet always keeping her own heart guarded, afraid to acknowledge the depth of her affection.
But now, as their hands met in a tender embrace, the walls she had meticulously built around her heart began to crumble. In the warmth of his touch, she found solace, a sense of belonging that she had long yearned for.
As they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, (Y/n) dared to let her guard down, to allow herself to embrace the truth of her feelings. With each beat of her heart, she felt the walls around her heart melting away, replaced by an overwhelming tide of love and longing.
And as Gaara's gaze softened, mirroring the depth of emotion reflected in her own eyes, (Y/n) knew that she was not alone in her silent confession. In the quiet intimacy of their shared moment, they spoke volumes without uttering a single word, their unspoken bond weaving them together in a tapestry of love and understanding.
As (Y/n) was shaken from her trance, she felt Lady Chiyo's presence kneeling beside her. With tear-stained cheeks, (Y/n) looked at the elder woman, her eyes silently pleading for her to intervene, to do something, anything, to save Gaara. "Please," (Y/n) murmured, her voice trembling with desperation as she reached out a hand towards Lady Chiyo.
The older woman nodded solemnly, understanding the unspoken plea in (Y/n)'s gaze. Motioning for her to move away, Lady Chiyo's hands began to glow with a gentle, healing light as she focused her chakra on Gaara's still form. Naruto, also, kneeled beside him, helping Chiyo.
Lady Chiyo's life force flowed into Gaara, her hands glowing with a soft, healing light. The old puppet master, having made the ultimate sacrifice, had given Gaara a second chance. As Gaara's eyes fluttered open, (Y/n) felt her heart swell with gratitude. "(Y/n)?" Gaara's voice was weak but filled with wonder as he looked at her.
Tears streamed down her face as she knelt beside him, her hand finding his. "I'm here, Gaara," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're alive. You're safe."
Overwhelmed with relief, she leaned closer, pulling him gently into her arms. She could feel the faint, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a precious reminder that he was truly back. Gaara, still weak, wrapped his arms around her, finding comfort in her embrace.
The world seemed to blur around them, the intensity of the moment creating a bubble of solace amidst the chaos. Naruto and Sakura watched silently, their own eyes filled with tears of joy and relief.
Gaara's voice, though weak, carried a newfound determination. "I... I thought I'd never see you again," he murmured, his fingers tightening around her hand.
(Y/n) pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, her heart pounding with a mix of emotions. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, Gaara," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Gaara's eyes softened, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "I know," he replied quietly, his gaze holding hers with a depth of emotion he had rarely shown. "Thank you, (Y/n). For everything."
She smiled through her tears, her heart overflowing with unspoken words. "We're in this together, Gaara. No matter what."
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elamimax · 3 months
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Alright, here's my theory on what the new Shadow of the Erdtree DLC tells us about Elden Ring and its lore. I'm probably off on a few things, but let's go:
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Long ago, the Crucible was a current of energy that flowed through the world and brought death and rebirth. It flows circularly, spiraling, the dead and the living being reborn into one another (we know by now that the Crucible, unlike the Erdtree, was not a single place, after all). This energy was considered divine by many people, including the Hornsent, a pantheistic religious order that saw divinity in the melding of flesh, and would take shamans and force them to meld to achieve sainthood.
They did so by spiriting them away, branding a seal into them, and forcing them into jars until their flesh melded together. After all, "the flesh of shamans was said to meld harmoniously with others." The thing is that the hornsent were right. The shamans were divine, as they were graced with gold.
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One such shaman, from a Numen village in the Shadow Lands, escaped that grim fate. Salvaging that divinity from her fallen kin, she ascended the Divine Gate and drew the attention of the Greater Will, who had sown the grace of gold across the Lands Between, and invited it into her. Seeking to ensure that nothing so horrific would ever happen again, Queen Marika founded the Golden Order.
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Her firstborn was seduced by an outer god, The One Eyed God, and born with curse like her other children, so she gave him her Scarseal for an eye so that he would retain use of his faculties and she could seal away the worse of his curses, and for her, her burned the Shadow Lands, ensuring that what happened to her kin would never happen again. It was without grace or honour, but out of spite, and vengeance, and fear.
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Miquella, Marika's youngest, was cursed three times. He was cursed with eternal youth, though I suspect that he died and was reborn young several times over, shown by the fact that he was quite small when he was absconded with by Mohg but the corpse we find in Mohgwyn palace is massive.
His second curse was that of love. Whether bestowed on him by his parents, the greater will, or chance itself, I don't know, but all who laid eyes on him loved him, and it made him callous. All loved him which, of course, meant that love was valueless. He could steal hearts at a whim, his rune so strong that it enchanted those who laid eyes on it. It was not, of course, enough. He desired a world of peace, of calm, of love, of tranquility, and realized that, as an eternal, beloved child, as an Empyrean of the Greater Will, he would never be able to make that happen.
So, he began the arduous process of dismantling himself, divesting himself first from his body, then his fear and finally, his love, traveling to the Shadow Lands, a land now removed from the Lands Between by his mother's veil, where he knew the currents of the Crucible were strong and he could live without a body, waiting for a consort.
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Because Miquella was thrice cursed, and his curse of love was also the same "curse" his mother suffered: his other half lived within himself, and he - or rather she - would travel the world and offer sleep to the sleepless and comfort to the dying, as Saint Trina. By divesting himself of his love, he divested himself of Saint Trina, hardening himself for what would need to be done.
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He would need a warrior. His sister was not up to the task. She loved him but she was not capable of being a warlord, her own curse of Rot slowly eating away at her. No, he set his sights on Radahn, greatest warrior of the Golden Order. Radahn refused. So Miquella whispered a request into his sister's ear and she obliged. Radahn reduced to a shadow of his former self, to be slain by lowly tarnished. He didn't need Radahn's body. Only his soul. As for a body...
Miquella's love reached far, and so too did it reach the Luminary Mohg, a man who longed to live up to the promise of dynasty that was his birthright, but who was also a calm, quiet man who sought to inspire others.
Miquella's demands, his love, broke something in Mohg. Forced him into an obsession with the formless mother. Into an obsession with bloodlines and, eventually, blood, something those who followed him have not and never will forgive Miquella for. And Mohg served his purpose: as a corpse, if nothing else.
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When Mohg died, Miquella's chosen dragged his body to the Divine Gate where his mother had become Queen Marika so long ago, and used the power there to forge Mohg's body in the Crucible, so that Radahn may be the warrior he had always been, but pliable this time, Mohg's power over blood now merged with Radahn's gravitational prowess. Usable. In the same way that Miquella's mother had used Godfrey, he would use Radahn, slaughtering any and all who opposed his Thousand Year Journey Of Compassion, until such time as he had no more need for such a consort. So, when finally his Consort was "rebuilt", Miquella, divested of his body, his fear and his love, stepped out of the Divine Gate, to protect him.
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He failed.
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