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arcielee · 6 months

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Fare Well

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Summary: You visit Aegon after another council meeting ends. Paring: Aegon Targaryen x female!reader Word Count: 1600+ Warnings: Reader AFAB, knifeplay, object penetration, kissing, p in v, creampie, using intercourse as an escape from reality. Author’s Note: Listen, the new trailer came out and our muses are buzzing again. This smutty piece was inspired by this story by @valeskafics as well as this beautiful edit by the beautiful @bucknastysbabe. The title is from Hozier, as you all should come to expect now, and this can also be read on ao3. This is dedicated to @f4ll-for-you, my wonderful Tumblr kindred spirit who made me into the Aegon girly I am today. 💜 A huge thank you to @targaryen-dynasty for beta reading and making sure this all made sense. 💜 Enjoy!

“What troubles you, your grace?”

You had remained in the shadows and listened to the voices grow louder, though still muted through the walls, with their worries of what was to come next. They exited one by one, the morose men chosen to serve the king’s council, with the lord commander of the kingsguard escorting the queen dowager donned in green, her eyes downcast and her expression etched with her perpetual worry since her lord husband had passed. The lord hand was the last to leave, his face lined and wearied, his slow gate returning him to the tower where he would–as Aegon confided to you–continue to pen letters to garner support across the realm.

It was only then that you dared to enter the room. You saw Aegon was seated at the head of the table, his violet gaze placed on the Valyrian dagger in his hands, the iron and rubies that once belonged to the Conqueror gleaming above him.

The sun was streaking through the windows behind, giving him a kingly glow. His hair was a shade lighter and his cheeks sunkissed from the hours aback Sunfyre; despite the threat beyond the horizon, you knew that Aegon enjoyed patrolling the skies with his brothers.

It was these little confessions that he shared with you in the clandestine moments stolen within the walls of the Red Keep. He told you how he wished to be distracted, to allow a reprieve for his mind that weighed heavy with this anointed crown, and you were just this distraction, flesh and blood pulsing with your desire.

It was then he looked up to see you still shyly posted in the doorway. “You seemed troubled, your grace,” you repeated with kindness, with concern.

“I am now always troubled, it feels,” his smile was forced. “It seems to be something that comes with the weight of this.” He removed the crown and it echoed dully as he dropped it on the table. “But perhaps you can serve your king.”

Your foot pushed the door until it closed soundly, and you took a step towards him. For a moment you saw the boy you had grown up with, mischievous and smirking, peering up at you from beneath the title of king. “This is why I am here,” your reply was sultry, and you saw how the black began to swallow the color of his eyes. “To serve, your grace.”

Aegon sheathed the dagger and set it aside his crown before slouching back to spread his legs wider in the ornate chair he sat. Your stomach tightened at the sight of his thick outline against his thigh, pressing through his slacks, and you felt the flutter of that desire trilling your spine, spilling back into your veins.

Your heart vibrated beneath and his lips curled upwards when he noticed where your eyes fell. His large hand patted his thigh.

The gesture summoned you and you moved within his arms reach. He pulled you onto his lap, his face burying into the curve of your neck with a groan, a deep inhale that tickled. “Your grace,” you giggled, squirming in his hold, your blood warming your skin.

“It is only us now,” he murmured against your skin, “and all I wish now is to tear away these layers, lay you on this table, and have what lies beneath your finery.”

“You would not dare,” you whispered, your eyes bright.

His fingers dug into your hip while his other hand snaked under your thighs to lift you up from his seat. You giggled again, your arm quick to wrap around his neck to brace for his step forward as he set you on the edge of the table. His hands pawed at your layers, searching to find the dagger and he began to slice through your fabric.

Your surprise spilled from your lips. “Aegon!”

He did not falter, but sheathed it and set it back down so his hands could grab fistfuls, tearing away the fabric to allow you room to part your thighs and welcome him. Your hands moved from his chest and combed through his hair, smoothing the indent left behind from his crown. He hummed from your touch, his hands moving from your hips and following your curves to your backside, pulling you closer so he could tilt his chin forward and capture your lips.

His kiss devoured you wholly, pulling the air from your lungs with the dizzyingly desperation of his lips against your own. Your arms wrapped again around his neck and you rolled your hips for friction against the warmth he emitted through his royal garb, your fingers clawing at the fabric.

You could feel his smile against your lips, his fingers returning to his hold on your hips. The outside of his palm rested on the dip and his thumbs pressed to the bone, eliciting a pleasure that jolted through you. You moaned softly and his mouth broke away, wet kisses that now trailed along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the slope of your neck.

“Aegon,” you could not help but whine, and you tightened your legs around his hips.

He turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, flushed. For a moment you were lost in his heady gaze, only brought back once you felt his hand trailing the detailing of your bodice and pressing until you laid back on the table. His other hand retrieved the dagger once more and your smallclothes were cut away, the air crisp against the slick between your thighs.

“So wet for me already,” he clucked his tongue, “and I have barely begun.”

Your stuttered response only further goaded him. His brow cocked. “What was that?”

“Please,” you licked your lips. “Touch me, Aegon. Please.”

The darkness in his eyes glittered with the sunlight, and his satisfaction curled across his square jaw. “No. Not quite yet.”

Before you could protest, you felt the pressure of something that was smooth, almost cool to the touch. You peered down to see the sheathed dagger pressed sideways to your bare cunt, the ruby stone sliding against the slick, the blossom of your arousal allowing him a circular motion of the gemstone against the bundle of nerves.

You shuddered in response, your skin rising on your thighs and chest, and your head fell back, your hands pressing flat on the polished wood to anchor yourself. The unfamiliar touch began to build a familiar sensation, something that fluttered throughout, catching your exhale in your throat.

“Aegon,” you cried, his name spilling sickly sweet from your lips, an endearment with the desperation of your tone.

“Let me,” he soothed, his voice rasped with his intent focus.

He moved the hilt and its decorative ridges rubbed along your swollen nerves. You squealed with the touch and then the intrusion, feeling his palm press to the inside of your thigh. “Trust me,” he whispered, his eyes boring between your thighs. You relaxed to his touch, feeling the curve of the handle pressing sweetly within you.

It sparked lights before your eyes and Aegon was pleased. He moved his thumb to replace where the gemstone rubbed enticingly before, matching the tandem of the hilt that now pulled you upwards to the prior peak and then past. It filled your chest, a bursting euphoria that pulsed your walls around the handle.

“Sȳz riña,” his voice low with his praise. Good girl.

Your head lifted, drowsy, and you saw him touch the glossy shine that now covered the hilt, his fingers showing the sticky web of your climax. His eyes met with yours as he showed you, and his eyebrows raised when you pushed to sit up, your hand gently covering his own to pull it towards your lips, licking the ruby and tasting yourself.

It clattered to the cobblestone and his free hand now grabbed the nape of your neck, his lips finding yours with his returned desperation. Fingers collided to loosen his drawstrings, your hands pulling his cock free and guiding his blunt head to press against your silk entrance.

His large hand wrapped around the base and you cant your hips, angling yourself so his cock can slowly sink into your wet warmth. You mewled from the delicious stretch and he shuddered once he was fully buried between your thighs. Aegon paused, stealing a kiss, a taste of tenderness on his lips as he began to rock against you.

It started slow with a low groan spilling from his kiss swollen slips as he watched his cock disappear inside you again and again. He savored the lewd sounds, your soft cries as he pushed deeper within you, your fingers grasping to hold yourself upright, to remain as close to him as possible.

Your body still simmered with your prior release and it did not take much to build again. His hips snapped against yours with the wet sound of skin to skin, and your walls began to flutter. It is a breathless chorus, your soft gasps and his low groan, your pleasure pulling with a creamy spill of passion that tightened around him, his cock pulsing hotly within you.

You fell back to your elbows, trying to catch your breath, and Aegon slumped over, his damp brow pressing to yours, the mess of his golden waves falling across your face. His scent washed over you, exotic oils that were sent as gifts and the sheen of sweat on his skin.

The council chambers are noiseless now, and you hold still under the dimming candles lit for the chandelier above. It is another clandestine moment stolen, where your hearts thrummed in unison before slowing back to their regular pace, pulling you back to the heavy reality that settled in the quiet.

It lingered in the shadows, the faraway thought, the threat beyond the horizon, the echoed worries returning of what will come next.

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#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon x female!reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #female!reader #fare well

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visionsofcarnality · 3 months

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Ptolemaea:

Aemond Targaryen x Daemyra’s Daughter!fc

Ptolemaea: To betray a guest that has been invited into your home.

a/n: The original concept for this came from @ellijg who dmed me this concept and i added my own little details to it. The original concept was Daemon and Rhaenyra’s daughter was best friends with Aemond during childhood and the daughter was at Rook’s Rest which triggered Aemond to think about when he killed her brother Lucerys. Obviously spoilers for both Fire and Blood and HOTD 204 are below. This short story deals with violence, grief, betrayal, and more than one stabbing.

Other notes: Ptolemaea is also a good song to listen to during this.

"Do you think Aegon and Helaena will be happy?" She asked him? turning her violet eyes to try and find his. "Married?"

"I hope so..." Aemond murmured softly, running his fingers over the softly carved wings of a wooden dragon toy they'd stolen from the King's chambers. "But I think not."

Alysanne frowned softly, turning her head back to the sky where they could just spot Sunfyre and Dreamfyre circling the city. Not quite touching, just observing each other. Each a spectator to the other's solitude. Even in her young mind she wondered if the beautiful beasts were mimicking their riders. Caution reigning over curiosity.

"Pray to the Seven..." She settled deeper into the grass, trying to push the thoughts of unhappy partnerships behind. "I hope I will never marry."

"I will marry you." He countered, causing her head to snap back in his direction, mouth open to protest before he continued. "You can live on Dragonstone, I'll stay in the keep. No one will ever be able to make you do anything."

"Except you." She hedged, clearly looking for the catch in this vow.

"I could never command you." He scoffed, a faint smile leaving his lips. "Zaldrīzes dohaeriros iksos daor."

(A dragon is not a slave)

She matched his smile with her own, laughing softly. "We could be free."

"We could be free." He conceded, watching his niece instead of the clouds when she told him one looked almost like the dragon she'd claimed. The she dragon once ridden by the Queen she was named after; Silverwing.

Alysanne screamed in pure horror when Vhagar's teeth closed around Meleys' neck, crunching disturbingly. She felt a sob tear from her throat as the dragon stopped fighting and finally fell limp, hurtling towards the earth at the speed only a creature the size of a dragon could achieve. Even from her distance she could just see the arms of her beloved Cousin Rhaenys, lifted by the rush of the fall like she was surrendering to her fate.

The explosion from the impact of Meleys' body on the ground shook the castle she was circling and a pained wail left her. One that Silverwing matched, trilling a sound that onlookers would describe in the history books as despair.

There was no time for grief, not as Alysanne, still with tears in her eyes, saw Vhagar circle back around and turn towards the castle of Rook's Rest. She pushed aside the image of Rhaenys falling through the blue sky and focused on what was in front of her. Meleys had blown a passage through the wall of the Keep, one the footsoldiers were now running through. If her faction were to stand even a small chance, she had to distract Vhagar to let Rhaenyra's soldiers close in behind them.

"Dohaeragon, Silverwing." She sobbed into the Dragon's large neck. "Īlon līs jikagon va." She encouraged her, fastening the straps holding her to her saddle even tighter until the skin around her armored hips felt pinched. "Nābēmagon, Gēlenka Tīkun."

(Dohaeragon: Serve/Serve me. Īlon līs jikagon va: We must go on. Nābēmagon Gēlenka Tikun: Attack, Silver Wing.)

Silverwing chirped a high, almost musical, roar and obeyed. The she dragon violently whipped her light wings against the air current below them, launching her and her rider higher. They were now almost level with Vhagar and Aemond.

Aemond twisted in his saddle at the sound of Silverwing's call, eye widening in dread. "No," He shook his head, willing Alysanne to turn her mount away from the battle. "Stubborn girl..." The words were followed by a soft curse as Vhagar inevitably circled to face Silverwing. "No! Vhagar, no!" He cried, yanking uselessly on the reigns.

"Vhagar, no!" The sound of bone crunching could be heard even above the thick rain as Vhagar's mouth closed around Arrax's body... Around Lucerys.

"Vhagar, stop! Not her!" He screamed. "Not her! Dohaeragon, Vhagar. Rybagon issa!" Vhagar paid him no mind, raising her mighty neck to deliver a killing blow to the smaller dragon.

(Rybagon issa: hear me.)

On Silverwing, Alysanne watched the great beast move like a fanged glacier, the slow speed somehow making her movement all the more intimidating. She swallowed her fear, closing her eyes for half a moment and letting herself remember Rhaenys. Her death could not be in vain. She would not lose this battle.

"Come on, girl." She called harshly, gripping the reins tight. "We can take them." Silverwing answered lightly and beat her wings harder, launching them higher.

"No..." The sight of Arrax's wing tumbling to the dark water like a maple tree seed. Spinning and circling as it still spewed the steaming blood of the young dragon. He wondered absently how much of the blood on Arrax's scales was his... and how much was Lucerys'.

The ride back to King's Landing was numb. Even the cold rain and the pain in his hands from his grip on Vhagar's leads couldn't shake him from his stupor.

Vhagar roared with a sound that was more felt than heard, but there was no mistaking the answering melodic call of Silverwing as she met the larger beast without fear. Aemond pulled Vhagar back with all his might, crying out with the effort of trying to turn such a massive beast away from the woman he may have once called his wife.

It was barely enough, Vhagar finally banked with a roar of outrage, but not before Silverwing made impact with the larger she dragon's hind leg, slicing savagely through to the bone. Vhagar moaned in anger and writhed in the air, shaking the reflective dragon off. Alysanne and Silverwing hung on, bravely tearing chunks from Vhagar's flesh until the jade queen twisted in a slow death roll and brought her tail up towards her leg, smacking savagely into the side of Silverwing and sending her flying.

Aemond watched in horror as his nightmares became reality. The flashing of Silverwing's light scales as she spun out of control looked all too similar to the way Arrax had spiraled as bits of him fell to the ocean. He could just barely see Alysanne, clutching her dragon's neck like she was attempting to comfort her even in the free fall. Even though she would surely die should the impact come for them both.

Silverwing crashed into the trees below them, knocking more than a few of them down with her momentum, a shrill, ululating whistle of pain rising above the screams and clanging of steel.

"Down, Vhagar, land." He instructed without emotion, letting Vhagar carry them both to the ground near where Silverwing had made impact.

Alysanne nearly screamed in effort, trying to pull the clasp of her strap from the saddle as it had become crushed during the fall, the metal loop closing entirely on the latch of her riding lead. When it was made clear the metal wouldn't budge she huffed and drew her dagger, slicing clean through the crafted leather. No sooner was she free than she was sliding down Simverwing's back to rush towards her head, checking the dragon over for injuries.

"Oh, my girl." She crooned, pressing her forehead to Silverwing's nose with a soft sob. "I thought we were lost." Silverwing purred against her rider, the sound carrying a soft whistle with it.

"Alysanne!" The harsh shout of her name had the hairs on the back of her neck rising, followed by the crunching of leaves and twigs under hurried feet.

"Ssh..." She soothed her mount with a soft kiss to her face. "It's okay." Silverwing rustled nervously but obeyed with a soft chuff that blew smoke up through Alysanne's silver-gold hair, joining the smoke and soot that already covered her rider.

"Alys!" Aemond called the nickname he'd used for her when they were children, clearing the last of the branches to reveal Silverwing on her side, laying calmly among the destruction caused by her fall. Weary, but alive. There was no sign of Alysanne.

Or so he thought. A primal yell came from his flank and he turned just in time to catch Alysanne's sword arm as she swung a dagger over his head. His hand just stopped the impact of the blade a finger's length from his good eye, and they locked in a stare. Alysanne was covered in soot and smoke, smeared by the tears running down her face and looking in her eyes. Though the tears were not betrayed by her expression, her mouth and brow twisted in fervent wrath.

"Alys-" He started, trying to wrestle her arm down and away from him. Before he could finish she suddenly dropped the dagger and caught it with her other hand, driving it towards his side. He had just enough time to sidestep her so that the blade met him in the thigh instead of the gut where she had intended.

"You!" She wailed, the sound almost animalistic. "Kinslayer! Traitorous, two-faced villain!" Her words cut him deep and he felt his face fall as he beheld the ferocity and rage she threw at his feet.

"Alys, stop!" He shouted, grabbing both her flailing arms and twisting her wrist until she cried out and dropped the dagger. "Listen to me!" She did no such thing, kicking out with both legs to try and force him off her. The impact cleared the air from his lungs but only served to topple them both to the scorched forest floor, his body on top of hers. She writhed in his grip, growling like a harpy, but he was stronger and larger than she was , nailing her arms to the ground with both hands and sitting down harshly on her hips to keep her from squirming too much.

"Stop fighting me!" He roared into her face, and she only fought harder, drawing her own blood as she clenched her hands into fists, digging the nails into the meat of her palms with her effort.

"No!" She screamed in response, trying to bring her legs up to knee him in the back. "I will never stop fighting you! I will kick and scream and fight you until you either kill me or I kill you!" She sobbed, her fight losing some of its momentum as she cried.

"Alys-"

"You killed them!" She wailed, choked sounds of grief leaving her as she continued to fight him. "You killed them both! Your kin!"

"It was an accident!" He matched her cries, feeling his own tears start to well. "What happened with Lucerys... I never meant for Vhagar to harm him!"

"He was three and ten!" She wept miserably, her arms and legs starting to slacken in his hold as he grief overcame her sadness. "He was a child, Aemond! A babe! Him and Arrax both!"

"And what of our children?" Some of his tears dropped to her face and she shook them off agitatedly. "Jaehaerys? Maelor, who will never forget how his mother wished him dead? Jaehaera, who lost her twin?"

"Rhaenyra had nothing to do with that!" She hissed through her tears. "It was Daemon who ordered your head be brought to him. He did not plan on your chambers being empty. You were too busy whoring to protect your own nephew!" Her voice rose through the sentence until she was screeching in his face again.

"Enough, woman!" He snapped, lifting her briefly to slam her back into the ground in an attempt to stop her from spewing more of his darkest regrets. "You think I wanted this? You think that I wanted my nephews dead?"

"Mayhaps not." She panted coldly, eyes icing over as she looked between the patch and his single purple eye. "But you wanted your brother dead." Aemond's blood ran cold. "I saw you. I saw you order Vhagar. You fired upon your own brother with no regard for his life. Your King! You were too blinded by your own hatred and ambition to stay loyal to your brother!"

He leaned into her space, so close their noses almost touched and he could smell the salt in the tears cutting through the soot on her cheeks. “That fire was for Meleys. Aegon was the idiot who held on and didn’t order Sunfyre away.”

At that, she did the unthinkable. She laughed at him.A disturbing, humorless laugh that made a chill run down his spine. “Your convolutions may be enough for your mother and your small council, but you cannot fool me Aemond.” She sneered, venom dripping from every word. “You never could.”

“Have you no memory of us as children?” He was grasping now, trying to find a way to pull her close as she only tried to get farther away. “What has become of those children?”

“You did this to us!” She cried, rage awakening anew. “It was your actions, not mine! Your ambition! Your anger! Your ceaseless vengeance and need for retribution!” Silverwing shifted uncomfortably at the sounds of her rider’s distress, but did not rise. “Your constant need to be feared and loved! You claim loneliness, did I not love you enough?” She was sobbing again. “Have I not given everything I could to you and your complexes? Was I not enough for you, Aemond? Or did you think that I could love you and fear you at once?” She finally stopped fighting him, laying lax against the soot-covered ground as he processed her deepest questions. “If I had loved you better would you have spared my brother?” She mewled through her tears. “If I had feared you the way you wanted Luke to fear Vhagar?”

Aemond did not answer, and another tear rolled down his face and he watched it land on her wobbling bottom lip. She looked away from him, arms shifting restlessly. “Even now…” She mused, sounding truly broken. “You cannot answer me.” She scoffed. “Nothing will ever be enough for you, Aemond. You ride the largest dragon, you claimed your vengeance on my little brother, you’ve now deposed your brother as King…” The expression she turned on him was nothing short of disgust edged with pity. “You will never be happy.” She sighed, “Never satisfied.”

“Alys-“ He was cut off from finishing her name when he felt a sharp pain in his side, just below the crest of his hipbone. The only place on his body she could reach with her arms restrained against him. When he looked down he saw the hilt of Aegon’s dagger protruding from his doublet. She’d taken the dagger he plucked from the crater of Sunfyre and Aegon…

Aemond loosed his grip on her in shock, feeling blood pool under his clothes and soak his riding clothes. Alysanne scrambled from beneath him as he hitched to the side, catching himself on one hand and breathing heavily.

“Alysanne!” He called out, watching her hair fly behind her as she sprinted to Silverwing and deftly climbed onto her back, strapping herself into the saddle with quick, shaking hands. “Alysanne!” He repeated, louder now, desperation tinting his voice as he simultaneously tried to stem the bleeding from his side as well as from the dagger still lodged in his thigh.

She paid him no mind as she ordered Silverwing into the sky and the downwind from her mighty wings hit Aemond full force, knocking his weakening body to the ground on his back, helpless as he watched her fly away.

He watched her until Silverwing was just a reflective dot on the sky, and the last thing he heard was a knight shouting his title before he succumbed to sleep from the blood still flowing under him.

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cas-kingdom · 10 months

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Can you please write Damon cheering up sis!reader by taking her out for some 1 on 1 time? Maybe even some grumbling from Stefan when they get back home lol ❤️

"If this is what you call a date, I want you to know I'm not impressed."

Damon Salvatore rolled his eyes to the high heavens and punted a stone across the grass. "Would you stop your grumbling? God," he said, "you try to do something nice."

You dragged your feet totally unnecessarily. "I'm tired."

"You wouldn't complain like this if it were Stefan, would you?" He stared straight at you, immediately noting the hesitation flit across your face. He stopped. "Would you, you little snake?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards and sticking your tongue out. Damon grit his teeth and surged forward, making a swipe for you. You easily darted out of the way but wasn't as lucky the second time, your brother catching your head in the crook of his arm and mussing your hair.

"You're a vampire," he said above your screaming, "you can't get tired. Ooh, bunny rabbit."

He let you go, stumbling, and approached the oblivious black rabbit. You recovered and grabbed his wrist before he could snatch the animal.

"No, no, no, don't." Damon gave you a look and your mirrored it. "Just let it exist, D."

"Fine, but when I'm hungry later and wanna snack on a passing tourist, don't come crying." You slapped his shoulder and he leaned down, beckoning to his back.

"Come on, get on." You merely blinked in response and he rolled his eyes once more. "Get on, or I'm leaving you behind." You, figuring this was the only way you were getting to the top of the mountain, jumped onto his back with all the grace of a baby elephant. Damon, ever the drama queen, groaned under the weight. "Damn, sis, how much do you weigh?"

You kicked his hips. "Walk on, ass."

Damon had hauled you out of the house that morning without allowing you—or Stefan—a word in edgeways. "It's a date," he'd said when you’d protested, "we're going on a date." Said date apparently included hiking up the tallest mountain in Virginia.

You moved faster now you were off the ground, hanging around his neck with your cheek against the back of his head. Your eyes followed the moving view until Damon got to the top and the trees cleared. You lifted your head and dropped down as he let go of your legs. "Woah."

"What'd I tell you, kiddo?"

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah, I—" A sharp trill pierced the quietude at the top of the answer and Damon grumbled, reaching into his pocket to yank out his phone. The name caused him to audibly roll his eyes "—aw, seriously?" He put the phone to his ear. "Hi, bro. No, bro, I haven't kidnapped our sister. We're having a dandy old time, thanks very much. She's fine, we're fine, the bunny's fine, and don't even think about coming after us because you're not invited. This is a date." And with that, the phone was turned on silent and pushed right back into his pocket.

You crossed your arms over your chest and grinned, one brow raised. "Eloquent."

Damon rolled his eyes and sat at the edge of the mountain. "Come here. Come on, I won't let you fall." He rose a brow playfully. "Maybe."

You gave him a look but came to sit beside him anyway, making extra sure to be close enough that if the wind blew a little too hard and you did topple over the edge, he'd be able to grab you in time.

"I brought you here when you were a kid, you know?" Damon thought about that. "Well, more of a kid than you are now, I mean."

"Yeah?"

"Yup. Carried you all the way up. You said your legs were tired." He jabbed you in the side. "Guess some things don't change."

“Hey, I walked up most of it by myself.” You jabbed back.

“Yet the question remains…will you walk down by yourself?” He rose his brows in question. You narrowed your eyes but didn't respond, prompting your brother to snort.

"What did I think of it then?" you asked. The views were gorgeous, but you doubted you’d appreciated them as much when you were younger.

"Absolutely no idea. You fell asleep on the way up." Damon didn't sound impressed. You grinned. "Seriously. Busted my ass climbing up that hill and you weren't even awake to see all this."

"You didn't wake me up?"

"You were a deep sleeper."

"Belated sorry."

"Accepted."

You leant against him, your shoulders touching. "That's why you wanted to come today?"

Damon shrugged. "Seems a shame not to see it at least once." He paused. "And to spend some time together." You glanced up at him. "What?"

You said nothing. You shook your head and rested it against his shoulder, reaching to take his hand in yours. "I missed you too, big brother."

TVD Masterpost

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acinnamongirlsdiary · 2 months

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𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓡𝓲𝓫𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓼-𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 2: 𝓒𝓸𝔀𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝓮 - 𝓣𝓢

Summary: Reader and Jacaerys are arranged to be wed. But reader doesn’t want that bc she hardly remembers him. Tension are rising with house Lannister so allies are more important then ever.

Cw: Slowburn, angst, this is genuinely just a fix-it fic, Rhaenicent, some mentions of s/a trauma but will be tagged in the chapters!!, mean dad, eventual smut but will tag in chapters, readers super apprehensive, VERY self indulgent

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so sorry that I haven’t updated but I’ll get chapter 3 out this week!!! I hope you enjoy! (Also imagine season 2 Jace lol)

Part 1

You were breathtaking

No stories or art could do a being like you justice.

He could hardly hear his mother introducing you, you were perfect. Everything else was background noise.

“My lady.” He spoke. Taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “Forgive me if this is inappropriate, but, you look unfathomably beautiful.”

“Prince Jacaerys.” You spoke softly, “Thank you. I feel as though I’m not worthy of a compliment from you.” You felt your face heat. The prince himself was complementing you.

“Nonsense. May I be honoured to have your dance?”

“Of course my prince!” You smiled wide, letting Jacaerys take your hand and lead you to the floor. People cleared, aware to make room for the heir to the throne and his future bride.

He dance with you through many songs, never once parting with you. Soon the hour was late and you wished to retire, which he gladly led you to your quarters.

“My lady, I ask for you to join me on Vermax for an early morning ride. I feel he would love you, and you being my future wife, should get along with him.” He rambled.

You smiled at his clear nervousness. “I would love to, my prince.”

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Jacaerys and you met at breakfast, anxiety brewing in your stomach. As he walked you to the dragon pit you looked around in awe. It was beautifully built. Nothing like you’ve seen.

“What happens if Vermax doesn’t like me?”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that.” He smiled. “If I like you he certainly will.”

Vermax was beautiful. His serpentine eyes assessed you. Jacaerys gently took your hand by the wrist and placed it on Vermax’s snout.

Vermax inhaled and pushed his snout further to you.

“I think he’s taken to you.” Jacaerys whispered in your ear. “He may abandon me.” He joked.

Vermax made a series of trills to that.

“May we go for a ride, My prince?” You giggled.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

The wind wasn’t as aggressive as you expected. It was more of a soft breeze. Your hands around Jacaerys’ waist as you leaned into his back.

“Are you happy to be wed to me?” Jacaerys asked out of nowhere. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn but I know the Dowager queen didn’t enjoy my grandsire.” He spoke softly.

His question caught you off guard. You knew his mother didn’t love Leanor Valeryon as a wife and husband should love each other, but you didn’t know his grandmother held no love for king Viserys.

You’d taken a liking to Alicent. She’d been kind to you and welcomed you when most others at the castle shunned you.

“From the short time I’ve been with you, Jacaerys,” your face turned red at the thought of admitting what you were about to.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys smut #jace velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x you #hotd jacaerys

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delsolsasha · 9 months

Text

Male Casual LookBook

1 - Jacket | Jeans | Shoes |

3 - Shirt | Jeans | Shoes |

4 - Shirt | Pants | Shoes | Watch (basegame) |

Extras!! Hair | Tattoos |

#ts4cc #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 cc #the sims #the sims community #ts4 simblr #sims lookbook #lookbook #fashion #ts4 lookbook #sims 4 custom content #the sims custom content

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irisbleufic · 6 months

Note

YOUR 3 CATS ARE SO CUTE OMG! How old are they/what are their stories?

Like many young-ish queer married couples, @one-eyed-bossman and I entered the fast track to pet parenthood in 2020. I was still recovering from extensive cancer treatment at the time, which is part of what makes our first kitty especially meaningful to me.

ZEL

Zel is my darling girl. She’s now 5 years old, and when we adopted her in June of 2020, she was already 1 year old. After being rescued on the streets at a few weeks old with her two personable siblings, she spent an entire year at this lady’s house with like 20 other cats at any given time. She was feral and unapproachable, but somehow I was able to get close enough to her at the rescue to pick her up and put her in the carrier. She nailed me with her claws in the process, but that’s the only time she’s ever hurt me or anyone else. The day after we got her home, I stuck my hand behind the bed in her safe room, and she set her little paw square in my palm and left it there for about a minute. I spent a couple of months crawling halfway under the bed to pet her while she was curled in her bed, and eventually I could get her to follow me around the house by asking, “Do you want to go for a walk?” She barely left my side after that. I spent a lot of 2020 sick in bed; she always curled up snugly between my ankles or my knees. She’s now the smartest cat I’ve ever met. Her language recognition shocks me even after 4 years of having her as a silly little shadow who likes to play fetch with her pink-eared mouse toy. She’s stuck to my side any time I’m on the sofa, and about a month ago she climbed fully in my lap for the first time. Her meow is barely a whisper when she does use it (only to talk to me and occasionally to the TV), but the trills, squeaks, and yowls she makes to talk to her toys are hilarious. She doesn’t even talk to her siblings like that. Unlike many white cats, she is not deaf.

NICKY

We got Nicky a year after we got Zel; he was about 8 weeks old when we brought him home in June of 2021. We met a kind lady who periodically bred her lovely Bengal queens, and Nicky was somehow a “non-show-quality” (?!!) discount kitten. He’s sweet, goofy, vocal, afraid of everything/everyone that’s outside the house, and occasionally very naughty. We hoped he would bring Zel the rest of the way out of her shell, and it worked. He just adored her from day one. She took a few months to warm up to him, but they bonded pretty fast. Now, at 3 years old, he’s a big boy—17 pounds. He likes to stand/sit on laps more than he likes to lie down in them, although he will lie down in mine a couple times a week. He brings me granola bars from the cupboard and loves trash more than he likes his toys:

EMBER

We hadn’t planned on a third cat, but the universe insisted. I mean that quite literally. On 31 July 2022, my mother died at my sister’s place a couple of states away. The morning she died, me and my four siblings took a walk around my sister’s neighborhood. We split up and went slightly different ways; my sister and her husband called me as I was getting back to the house to say that a tiny, tiny crying kitten had run out of the bushes toward them. My sister didn’t know what to do; one of my nieces is very allergic, and we were all burnt-out from dealing with Mom’s passing and the funeral home taking away her body. I told her to bring the kitten back to the house, because I was too grief-stricken to let another thing die that day. Out on the porch, I fed her milk from one of the droppers we were using to give my mom morphine, all the while making desperate phone calls to local rescues. After about 3 hours, a local vet with specialty in caring for bottle baby kittens came to pick her up. She told me that, because I didn’t live too far away in the grand scheme of things, she could foster the baby until she was old enough for me to arrange transport to my home state. There was no way I could walk away from that little baby, so I got regular photos, videos, and updates from her foster mom until I could arrange transport about 5 months later (she came home in December of 2022). She has grown up to be the feistiest tortie I’ve ever met. She has far longer hair than I ever could have guessed, and even now that she’s 1.5 years old, she has very short legs (longer end of munchkin, our vet says!) and an overall smaller stature than her siblings. She fucking adores Nicky, and he has never once played too rough for her given the size disparity. He lets her chase him, jump on him, bap him into play fights, etc. She will cry and cry at night if we don’t pick her up and carry her around before we close the bedroom doors (they get to sleep in the bedroom sometimes, but not always; Nicky likes to knock picture frames off the wall in there, and I’m not about exposing them to broken glass).

#nicky and zel #zel and nicky #ember #cats of tumblr #rescue cats

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miss-multi45 · 3 months

Note

OK hear me out, I had an idea : what if reader presented herself as innocent, nice, you know like big doe eyes and all. So the ghouls assume she is a poor innocent lamb in need of protection. UNTIL one day, some guy just takes it too far with her and just as the ghouls are about to jump in to protect her, she becomes ABSOLUTELY FERAL and maims the guy.

How would the ghouls react, do you think ?

P.S : I love all your writings <3

gonna go with the idea that reader's a ghoulette in this. thank you for the ask, sweetheart.

a/n: cw/tw: gore and mentions of sexual stuff

A noise between a trill and a growl comes from the ghoul's throat when the guy starts making comments about how he'd like to see you in pretty white lace lingerie, but before creep could touch you, his blood had painted your body like the lingerie in his imagination...

swiss

fanboying.

screams "OH FUCK YES GIRL!"

and parades about the ministry with you in his arms bridal style meanwhile there is still blood on your body.

he doesn't care less about the blood, he's a fucking ghoul.

he just wants to brag about you to the entire ministry.

sodo

raises his eyebrows in slight shock, but then walks towards you with his hand raised for a high five.

tail is wagging, and he gives you head scritchies which makes you purr and nuzzle against him.

disposes of the body which means the ghouls and ghoulettes ate the dead body.

what? sometimes they eat people..

rain

slightly shocked by the sudden blood spray, but then he just shakes himself off like a cat and drags you away from the scene to craft an alibi.

sticks with leaving the guy outside to rot while he makes hot chocolate for the ghouls and they all watch Rite Here Rite Now in the ghoul den.

phantom

he got angry when the guy started making comments about your boobs, like really angry, asking if they were warm and squishy.

how dare he, phantom, the ghouls, and the ghoulettes were the only ones allowed to know that and see your plush boobies (lol) in all their glory.

so he wasn't at all upset when you clawed the incel's neck open with those dazzling claws of yours, watching as he slumped onto the floor with a sea of blood gushing out.

you kissed over his dead body.

mountain

anyone who doesn't respect the lovely ladies of the ministry and the entire universe is automatically on mountain's kill list.

happy when you killed the shithead and growled at his dead body, that's his girl.

cleaned you up while you were swinging your legs and gave him smoochies.

aether

was standing behind the fuckface ready to take him out when you beat him to it.

leaned over his body, examining the injuries.

"good punch." he said before walking away with your bloodied hand in his.

omega

watching from a distance, leaning forward on a bench with his hands clasped together.

he was growling under his breath, his eyes flashing with bloodlust whenever the man smirked suggestively at his pretty little ghoulette.

proud when you tore him to shreds yourself, like yes queen girliepop we love to see it.

aurora taught him that slang

alpha

we all know he's teasing, smug and possessive.

which means he's walking towards you, and when he reaches you he grips your hip with one hand and your waist with the other.

chuckles when you swing at the guy, resulting in blood spraying all over you and alpha, but alpha didn't give two shits about the blood. he was just proud of his girl.

ifrit

the guy's digging himself a grave, teasing a cute and innocent ghoulette like you when he didn't know you had a big, bad, and sexy ghoul mate waiting to sink his teeth into his neck.

he was incredibly flabbergasted when you dealt with it yourself, and walked over to your with his hands slightly raised in disbelief.

gives you the most amazing head that night as a reward for your good work.

aurora

she was sat on a bench, sipping her strawberry boba while holding your blueberry boba in her other hand.

she had just gotten her claws done with you, as you were having a girls day out.

screams "THAT'S MY FUCKING GIRL SLAY THAT MAN QUEEN!" when you kill the dude bothering a clearly lesbian ghoulette.

cirrus

leaning against a wall when she saw the bland concrete being splattered with ruby red blood and thought something had happened to you.

but no, it was just her pretty little pillow princess tearing a man to shreds for making inappropriate comments and gestures to her.

walks over and kicks the dead guy, then swings you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes back to the ministry.

cumulus

what the fuck??

she left you for two seconds, TWO seconds, and a guy was already trying to get in your pants?

satan on a fucking enchilada, human men were annoying.

but all that irritation was killed at the same time he was, and she just stood there in a proud girlfriend stance.

mist

UGH, this is why the only men mist hangs out with are the ghouls, brothers of sin, and the papas.

has a visible expression of disgust on her face when the fuckhead starts talking about how he thinks that women were made to serve their husbands, and you had the same expression as her.

so you quickly shut him up with claws to the chest which cut through his heart in no time, prancing over to your girlfriend and giving her an innocent peck on the cheek.

#opeia rambles #my writing #ghost band x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghoulettes x reader

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anonymous-dentist · 5 months

Text

Part Three of the Catboy in the Village AU

Part One | Part Two

Cellbit has been in and out of several prisons in his life. He's no stranger to captivity, he knows how it works. He knows how the system works, and he's not expecting the queen to be any better than any of his previous wardens.

...Still. It's kind of nice to be given a cell with an actual bed in it. With bedsheets- silk, probably, they're soft. And a rug on the marble floor to keep the chill away. And bookshelves. With books in them. Interesting-looking books, too: mysteries, judging by the titles, and ones he didn't have access to back home due to Gato Kingdom customs laws.

But, like. Fuck the queen. She kidnapped him and his husband, she's currently working on kidnapping their children, and she doesn't seem keen to give Cellbit and Roier any chance to escape.

The cell- a bedroom, Roier had called it, but, really, it's a cell- doesn't have any windows. The door is unlocked, but there are two guards outside who are apparently supposed to follow Cellbit and-slash-or Roier wherever they go.

There are clothes in the wardrobe that are clearly recycled from some other member of Gato royalty. They're all finer than anything Cellbit has ever known, and he thinks he'd rather die than wear them.

Roier, though? He's not happy about being kidnapped, and he's even less happy about not having anything to protect himself and Cellbit with, but he seems happy enough about the 'lost prince' treatment that Cellbit's getting.

"When we escape, we're bringing the clothes with us," Roier decides on night two of their forced stay in the castle.

They're in bed, Roier wrapped protectively around Cellbit's back and holding him so tightly that Cellbit's ribs hurt. It's close to midnight, but neither of them can sleep, because how can they sleep when their kids are an entire kingdom away?

Cellbit quietly laughs. "Yeah? How?"

"You'll carry them."

"Oh, will I?"

"Yes, obviously. I have to have my arms free for fighting."

Roier's breath ghosts over the back of Cellbit's neck. It's warm, and Roier is warm, and the blankets are warm, and it all feels so cozy and yet so wrong. The bed is too nice. The bed is too big. The room is too big. Roier's clothes are too soft. It's too quiet, where is all the noise?

The entire time that Cellbit has been in the castle, these past two days, he has seen a handful of people: a few guards, a total of two servants, and, of course, the queen. But she's been too busy trying to rebuild her kingdom to bother with the men she's had kidnapped, and Cellbit hasn't seen much of her outside of the meals he and Roier are dragged to twice a day.

The queen is... interesting. She's a total piece of shit and Cellbit kind of hates her more than he can describe, but she refuses to be addressed by any of the usual titles; she keeps correcting her knights when they call her anything but 'Bagi', and she looks two seconds away from murder every time Cellbit calls her 'your highness'. She seems to actually care about her kingdom, which is a marked difference from her parents, and she spends all day locked in her study in the tallest of the castle's towers working on... queen stuff. Whatever it is she does, Cellbit doesn't know. He isn't royalty, he's an alchemist. This is all foreign to him.

"Who says we need to fight?" Cellbit asks. "Maybe they'll just... let us go when they figure out they've got the wrong Cellbit."

"Mm, maybe. Or, hear me out, I knock out a guard, steal their sword, and then I carry you out of here. Easy."

Cellbit imagines it. He smiles as his imaginary Roier spontaneously becomes shirtless mid-escape.

He snuggles back into his real shirtless husband's chest with a happy little trill. His trill becomes a proper purr as one of Roier's hands trails up and into Cellbit's hair, landing at the base of his ears and scratching lightly. His eyes slip shut, and his back arches, and he loves his husband so much! He's so sweet even when he's the victim of a kidnapping, he's literally the perfect man.

"Aww, gatinho," Roier coos. "You are the prince... of my heart."

Gods, that's cheesy.

Cellbit loves him.

"That... doesn't even make... sense..." Cellbit murmurs, voice obscured by his purring.

Roier sighs dramatically: "Fine, you're the king of my heart. Better?"

"Mmmmmmmm."

Roier chuckles fondly. "Mhmm, I see, yes, yes."

Cellbit bats a hand in the vague direction of Roier's face. He doesn't make contact, but that's fine. He'd rather die than hurt Roier, even playfully.

A kiss plants itself between Cellbit's ears. He melts, all thoughts evaporating outside of warm and Roier. Warmoier...

(The room doesn't have a window, so neither of them see the faint green light surrounding the castle.)

He's jerked back into his body as the entire castle shakes and rattles to the point of books falling off of their shelves. He's nearly tossed out of bed, only staying in bed thanks to Roier.

Cellbit immediately tries sitting up, but Roier pulls him back down with a hissed, "Be careful!"

"We'll be safer on the floor," Cellbit huffs. "Come on."

He drags Roier off of the bed and, together, they huddle beneath it clinging to each other.

"This sucks," Roier complains. He grips Cellbit's arm tightly, definitely not worried about the literal earthquake they're stuck in the middle of. "We just got comfortable!"

"We can get comfortable again," Cellbit assures him.

He feels it before he hears it. His entire body recoils upon instinct, his ears pressing down against his head just as an otherworldly wail echoes up from somewhere and burrows into his very bones.

"Are you sure?" Roier asks, wide-eyed. "What the fuck? Is this place haunted?"

The wailing continues. Roier has to let go of Cellbit so he can clap his hands over his ears. Cellbit covers his own ears, but it doesn't stop the chill in his bones, and it doesn't make the sick feeling growing in his stomach go away.

"I hope it is!" Cellbit replies, his voice near a shout from how loud the wailing is. "At least it would be interesting!"

Roier rolls his eyes. "Oh, at least!"

And then, just like that, the shaking stops. The wail cuts itself off with a sob, and then it's gone.

Cellbit looks at Roier. Roier looks at Cellbit.

Slowly, Cellbit lowers his hands from his ears, though his ears don't perk back up.

"You know," he says, "I don't think the queen told us everything when she kidnapped us."

"No shit," Roier grumbles. He moves his hands from his ears to Cellbit's hands, linking their fingers together; their hands are shaking from the adrenaline, but they seem to stabilize as soon as they're holding each other.

"I bet she doesn't even think I'm the prince," Cellbit continues. He looks down at his and Roier's joined hands. "I bet we're some kind of sacrifice to whatever spirit is haunting this castle."

"That's ridiculous," Roier scoffs. "I wouldn't be a sacrifice. You, yes, but me?"

He laughs as Cellbit untangles his fingers from Roier's and crawls out from under the bed. As he does so, Roier calls out to him and grabs his ankle and tries pulling him back under. Cellbit kicks at him, and Roier bites Cellbit's ankle, and Cellbit uses his leg to pull Roier out from under the bed, and they end up pressed against each other on the rug surrounded by fallen books laughing.

Roier, on top for the moment, leans down to kiss Cellbit.

That, of course, is when their cell's door slams open and the guards stationed outside come running in with alarmed expressions on their faces.

Cellbit groans and shoots the guards a dirty look.

"Do you mind?" he snaps.

At least the guards have the decency to look ashamed as they take in Cellbit and Roier's... position.

Roier huffs out a sigh and collapses onto Cellbit's chest, laying his head on its side on Cellbit's chest so he can glare at the guards properly.

"Can we help you?" Roier asks.

"Um," says one guard, clearly blushing and absolutely mortified. "Sorry. The prince has been requested in the queen's study. Uh. Sorry. We'll just..."

She and her fellow guard awkwardly bow, and then they start slowly backing out of the cell.

They aren't alarmed by the scattered books, Cellbit notices. No mention of the earthquake or the wailing, either. This is normal, then.

Hm.

Cellbit feigns a yawn. "Well, tell her majesty that both me and my husband would like to sleep after whatever the hell that was that woke us up. Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning."

The guards freeze. They go pale, look at each other, look back to Cellbit.

Roier lifts a hand and waves it dismissively towards them. "You heard the prince, go away."

Cellbit waits until the guards are gone before pushing Roier off of him and shooting him a halfhearted glare.

"'You heard the prince'?" he asks. "Really?"

Roier shrugs innocently. "It got them to leave. Now, get back here."

He growls playfully before pouncing back onto Cellbit. He frames Cellbit's face with his hands, and then he kisses him roughly. And then he kisses him softer after Cellbit mumbles something against his lips about being tired and wanting to get back into bed.

"You're so weak," Roier teases, lips moving against Cellbit's as he speaks.

"I'm weak... for you."

Cellbit laughs as Roier groans and tears himself away to go mope his way back into the bed. He's soon to follow, and he's immediately snatched back into Roier's arms and held captive once again.

This castle may be a very nice prison, but there's no better one than Roier's arms. It is simply the best, and Cellbit should know; it's the only prison he's never tried to escape from.

______________

To be continued...

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#catboy in the village au #wow who could've guessed that ba gi is hiding things from the audience #including. a ghost? omg i wonder what this could be...#i can't wait to hear your theories in the tags

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a-song-for-ages · 2 months

Text

Down Bad

Mix of hotd series and the books idk maybe

Somewhat eventual willem blackwood fic (age gap of like 13?)

no beta we go down like canon jon snow (he's dead)

pronunciation of daenerys that is used: dy(die)-nair-ris

Summary:

Daenerys Velaryon sees her mother dressed as a nun and knows she's up to no good but decides to let the Queen do as she pleases without interfering. (If only all parents had such children.)

Pt. 1

"Mother," her voice was soft, and still, and it cut through the air like ice. There was no warmth in it, not when she seemed to walk upon on her mother and her dragon - the less sensible of the two dressed like a virginal woman of a Faith she had little love for.

"Di," her mother turned, hair spun like the silver of the moon and gold of the sun - a stark contrast to her own, the black of night, the image that brought upon her family the scrutiny of lesser men and hisses of poisoned vipers awaiting to strike - nevermind the colour of their eyes, so light, her own, so dark, her brothers, and yet, contrasting and complimenting that wine of her own mother's.

Daenerys supposed if she and her brothers were the Targaryen children of Jahaerys and Alysanne reborn again, there would have still been doubts of their parentage, regardless of any dragon born to them in the cradle, or not.

Daenerys also supposed that if Visenya Targaryen had to appear to court in her ashes and declare them legitimate, she would have been questioned. And oh, the poor soul who would dare to do so. Daenerys thought of the three Maesters slain by her son, upon their questioning of his right to rule from the Throne. Would they have rathered he hid in the shadows and rule as the Hightowers did, when her grandsire had turned old and frail, tended to by maesters of their own, sending no word of when he succumbed to death?

There was no word to describe what she felt.

Luke. Dead. Arrax. Dead. Grandsire. Dead. Visenya. Dead.

Dead, dead, dead... dropping like ashen leaves of a weirwood tree.

"I am only going for a... ride," the queen's confidence had slowly died upon her mouth as she noted the pitched black of her daughter's eyes. They were calculating, and cold, and predatory, assessing her the same way Rhaenyra assessed those she had yet to consider as enemy, or ally. A dragon anticipating a hunt.

"If you were, then you would be wearing riding leathers," she said coolly, a brow only raising as the darkness dimmed in her eyes. "But you are not." Then there was a slight tilt to her head, and oh, how Rhaenyra saw her own self in her daughter's stance.

Rhaenyra regained her composure, and stopped her fingers from caressing the cool silver of her rings, when her daughter continued to drawl.

"And while Syrax is so stubborn to have you come to her for a ride," she paused, the dragon trilling a song in the air at the mention of her own name, maw opening the slightest in what would have looked like a gum-filled smile of a child who had gained recognition for a silly act... save for the fact that from Syrax's gums, came came black sword-like teeth protruding straight into one another. "She has come to you."

"A farewell, then, perhaps," her voice was casual, and her shoulders were laxed, but Rhaenyra knew, if anything, her daughter's mind often contradicted what she showed on her body.

"But to where?"

Daenerys had then folded her arms over her chest, and lowered her chin and looked pointedly at her mother - as she did to Jace and Luke and Joffrey and Aegon and Viserys when they were caught mostly by her, trying and failing to do what only she could. (Silly things, Rhaenyra remembered, like stealing the marbled balls from the Council room of her father's... back in King's Landing, when they were so very young, and her father was hale as a horse.)

Rhaenyra shut her eyes and considered telling her daughter the truth, before she decided against it. The less that knew, the better... but that did not mean she would be any less honest to her daughter, who had a most unnerving ability to tell when someone was lying. (And mostly, in her youth, when those light eyes she seemed to get from Aemon Targaryen, if what Rhaenys said was true, would train themselves upon a person, it felt as if she was mostly seeing through them, not at them. It had unnerved Rhaenyra when little Di was a babe, but she slowly grew used to it, until she found herself hoping to hide a thing from someone... and then she would find those ghost eyes of her daughter set on her.)

"I cannot say," she said, swallowing indiscernably, "but I trust that you will keep the knowledge of my venturings to yourself -"

There was a slight smile on her daughter's lips, but it was so bare that Rhaenyra knew it could disappear as quick as a feather on the wind.

Her daughter only nodded, rolling her eyes as she, "So a fool's errand, then."

Rhaenyra pursed her lips, and flexed the hand to her side, breathing out and deciding, "Mayhaps we shall see... I will only know once this course has been taken and done with."

Daenerys did not look entirely convinced otherwise, but Rhaenyra trusted her daughter to keep her secret, as was the habit of theirs, protecting each other's, not as mother and daughter often did, but as something other. Like friends. Like sisters... if Rhaenyra was to have one that would be entirely hers, and not her father's or Alicent's or anyone else with whom she had to share with... then yes, that was what her daughter was to her... and Rhaenyra was never sorry for it. Neither was her daughter, who had only looked slightly annoyed, but accepting and trusting of what her mother had planned. Even if she didn't know the half of it.

Approaching her daughter, Rhaenyra took her cold hands and rubbed them warm, bringing her only daughter to look to her, now, a slight frown had made its way to her lips.

Rhaenyra hated seeing her daughter so displeased, and said, "I will be back before the week's end."

Daenerys's displeasure only grew, as she turned to look away from her mother, not entirely thrilled at whatever information her mother sought to hold from herself - from Jace. She knew once her mother's disappearance became known, he would be the most wroth of them all. And it would only be her who would have to deal with it (now that Luke... Rhaena, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys were all gone.)

Rhaenyra pulled her daughter in for a tight hug, and Daenerys reciprocated, holding her arms tight round the stiff grey clothes of her mother, and laying her head on her chest. I hope you know what it is you are doing.

"Do not die," was all she said, and when Rhaenyra kissed her daughter on her forelock, Daenerys had pulled away the slightest, eyes larger than a full moon, and shining with worry for all the dangers that could possibly present themselves to her mother.

"Do not worry yourself," Rhaenyra said, smiling at her daughter as she caressed the side of her face. "I will not." And Daenerys seemed to relax in the slightest at that.

"Have Syrax take flight near wherever it is you are to go," Rhaenyra looked as if she were to consider contesting that advice, "or, as far as she can take flight without raising enemy alarms. If she should not do so, then I shall, though only she would know when your life is threatened."

Rhaenyra smiled at her daughter, holding her face in both hands now, and she said, "If this will ease your worry, then of course," and she kissed her daughter on the head, before turning to give Syrax a last look - the she-dragon crooned and shook her head as Daenerys would when she walked out from the sea, body soaking wet, eager to reach the warmer waters in her room...

Rhaenyra turned back to her daughter, and with one last touch of her palm on her cheek, she left.

Daenerys hadn't watched her mother walk away. She hadn't said any goodbyes... hadn't liked any of it, ever since both her fathers departed themselves from her life. (She remembers the many men she considered a father figure... let it be her own grabdsire, or the White Cloak Ser Harrold Westerling, who served her own mother from the time long before she was a babe. They were all either gone now, to the Stranger or Balerion or the Sea or the Roots of the earth, or so far from her that she could not hope to hear their breaths.)

Instead, the young princess looked on into the sapphire eyes of her mother's dragon, and only thought, 'You best protect her when the time calls for it,' which somehow managed to elicit a huff from the she-dragon, who stretched her wings and gave her one last look before she took flight.

No doubt, the dragon named after the Goddess of festivities and drink had seemed to say, 'As if I have not done that my entire life.'

And Daenerys smiled then, ever so slightly, the air around her cold, but the warmth in her palms providing some comfort to her.

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mysicklove-main · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Mer! King Bakugou x Mer! Queen Reader

Word Count: 5.3

Warnings: Fluff! Possessive behavior. Biting lol. Female! Reader

Summary: Katsuki convinces you to change into a mermaid.

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Courting a human sucks. It is all sugar-coated, a bunch of nonsense to try to appease the other. The way mers did it was simple. Show potential mates you can provide with gifts and food, and make sure your bodies are compatible. Of course, Bakugou hasn’t gotten that far with you and his face heats up whenever he thinks about it. But in the less dirty sense, he knows you find his body attractive and your body was equally as perfect.

So yes, the king should be done with the whole courting thing. It’s been about a month now and you are still frustratingly human. You haven’t given in to his antics.

You haven’t accepted the blonde because frankly, you are absolutely terrified of being a mermaid. Sure, you didn’t have much family nor friends to leave behind, but still, it was a whole new world. You weren’t sure if you were mentally prepared for that.

“You. Pretty,” The mer at your feet huffs, frown still on his face, contrasting the compliment. From his research, he decided that humans like compliments.

“Yeah? Thanks, Kats, but you have told me that ten times today.” He trills in annoyance and uses the tip of his tail to splash water at you. You squeal but giggle at the cool water that falls upon your face.

He grips your left leg and presses his face to your calf. “Mate now?” He asks, just as he had done for the past couple of days. He then begins to gently nibble on any skin he can lay his teeth on. You give him a sharp glance, warning him to be gentle. Your legs are already littered with bite marks thanks to a certain someone. He rolls his eyes, but abides, not wanting to piss you off.

Once satisfied with the mer you sigh. “Yknow, human courting is more than just giving compliments.”

He lets out an overdramatic growl and you raise your eyebrows. His orange face fins fall flat against his head. “Human ways stupid,” He hisses and you roll your eyes.

“Forgive me King Bakugou, ruler of the sea, for being a human,” You tease sarcastically and he glares at you. You smile and reach to pet his hair, he grumbles but leans into the touch. “Alright, I have seen that you tried. I'll be your mate Katsuki. Just give me a week to you know–prepare to be a mermaid?”

He pulls away from your leg, eyes wide. He almost seems to be happy, but of course, knowing Katsuki, he wasn’t about to show it. So, instead, he barks a complaint, “Too long. Now!”

You gently push the tip of your foot onto his forehead, forcing his head to tilt back. He bares his teeth at you, but doesn’t move from the position. “A week. Keep complaining and I won’t be going at all,” You threaten and he narrows his eyes at you.

Sometimes, Katsuki was demanding. It was fine in most cases, but if you sit there and take it all the time, it will definitely go to his head. You are not one of his subjects to boss around.

So, alas, he moves away from you and nods with a huff.

He swims back up to the dock and uses his tail to push himself out of the water, as he has done countless times. He rests his forearms next to your legs, successfully holding you still. He is slightly shorter than you in the position, but still way more threatening out of the two of you.

“Kiss?” He asks, but it comes out more like a demand.

Nevertheless, you are happy to oblige, and you swear you could see a small smile on his face when he presses his lips to yours.

When Katsuki heads home for the day the last thing he wanted to see was two idiots in his court.

“Did you see when she pressed that strange thing on his forehead?” The blonde-haired, and yellow-tailed, mer trills. He stares curiously at the figure above the water that is walking away.

“Yeah, and Bakugou didn’t even try to bite it off! He is totally whipped.” The red-headed shark, who looks almost exactly like a mer, excluding the extra large fin on his back, says in return. The two are so close to one another that they look like two schoolgirls talking about their crushes. They don’t seem to notice their king’s presence.

Katsuki, suddenly grabs the two of them by the back of their necks, causing them to jump. He has a murderous smile when talking. “And what the fuck are you two idiots doing over here?”

The two eye each other and smile sheepishly. “Just you know. Looking for our king!” Eijiro, the braver out of the two says enthusiastically.

“And new queen,” Denki half mumbles and Katsuki eyes him suspiciously. He can’t help but like the way it falls from one’s mouth though. But, the larger mer refuses to say that out loud, so instead he growls and drags the two away.

Then, he begins planning for your arrival.

Today was the last day of you being human. You sigh and go through your items, wondering if you’ll ever need them again. Becoming a mermaid is a life change, obviously. So, you were struggling just a little.

You got rid of most of your stuff, but you were hesitant about removing them all. If going with Katsuki didn’t work out, would you be able to come back? You had to ask later.

So here you are, walking out of the small shack you called home. You approach the dock with only a bag full of the mer’s gifts during his courting process. You couldn’t imagine leaving them behind.

Katsuki is at his usual spot, peaking his head above the water. A pink figure is next to him. Your eyes widen, in the six weeks you knew the mer, he has never introduced you to anyone. This had to be the person changing you.

You gulp, but a familiar bark calls you over. You smile nervously. “Hey, Kats. Who’s this?” You take in her appearance. Bright pink hair, skin, and tentacles. An octopus. You have never seen one that looks like her. She was beautiful.

“Mina. Friend. Ch-Change you.” The octopus tried to talk but it comes out as strange gasping and gurgles. You could tell it was the mer language but was definitely a little different considering it was coming from an octopus. So you just smile and wave at her.

She smiles so wide in return and you begin to feel a little comforted. Mina grabs at your ankles and begins to continue talking in the language you cannot for the life of you understand. You look toward Katsuki for help, a little afraid that she might drag you in. She looks nice enough, but she is a sea creature. You don’t trust them completely yet.

“Look at her tentacles Bakugou! Only two of them. How weird!” Katsuki rips her hand away from your body and growls at her.

“Watch it. That is your Queen that you dare to touch without my approval.” Mina shrinks her hand away and nods hesitantly. She totally forgot how important you are.

The octopus tries to do a curtsey, but it looks more like she just submerged more of her body in the water. Katsuki huffs and nods while you look at her confused. “Katsuki what is she doing?”

“Showing Re-spect. Queen.” You look at him wide-eyed. You were not going to get used to this.

“Oh. Um, thank you?” Mina has no idea what you are saying but continues to stare at you with stars in her eye. Unknown to you, but she has been waiting for the day the blonde finally chose his mate for years now. You laugh awkwardly.

She grins at the sound and turns toward the king who is wishing this process went a lot quicker. “What did she say? Tell me Bakugou!”

He rolls his eyes. “She says thanks. Now can you get on with it?” She nods, used to the blonde’s behavior, and beckons Katsuki to grab for your hand. He holds his hand out to you, and you take it. He begins to lead your hand to the octopus but stops.

You begin to tremble, nerves getting the best of you. Katsuki looks at you, eyes furrowed with concern. He quickly scans the area. “No danger. Don’t be afraid. Protect you. Promise, mate.”

You smile at the reassurance but it doesn’t help. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to be a mermaid, but this once again is a huge change. Your whole world is about to do a 180.

You don’t know how to phrase this any nicer, but you have to get it off your chest. “If I…If I want to go back home, as a human. Will I be able to?”

Katsuki grimaces. He had to admit that question hurt, but it was reasonable. Mers may mate for life, but humans don’t. After a while would you leave? Would he let you leave him? He didn’t like pondering such nonsense things.

But, for your sake, he turned to Mina and translated your question. She takes a second to think about it but nods and explains how easy it is to reverse the spell.

He feels hesitant about telling you this. “Yes. But–Don’t leave. Stay. With me.” Katsuki pauses, looking up at you. He huffs. “Please?” He has never asked for anything in his life, and if anyone in his court heard this they would be flabbergasted.

This is also the first time he has also said please to you. You smile and run your fingers over his webbed ones, and nod at him reassuringly. “Wasnt planning to. Just wanna keep my options open. Just in case, yknow, something bad goes wrong.”

He, like usual, grumbles, but he does understand. You’re smart. Thinking about how a situation could go bad, and how to keep yourself safe. Things queens should be thinking about it. So, although it feels wrong instinctually to agree with you, he can’t help but feel a little prideful at your statement. “I un–understand. But, nothing go wrong.”

You chuckle at his statement, but don’t disagree. You hope nothing does go wrong. You hope that the two of you will stay together forever while you are down there.

Mina gurgles, annoyed that she can’t understand what you guys are talking about. Katsuki clicks at her sharply and she rolls her eyes. Then the mer brings your hand onto hers. You gulp. “Ready?” He barks.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Your vision begins to fade, and the last thing you see is Katsuki grinning, canines hanging out of his mouth that looks almost animalistic.

When you awake you are underwater and breathing it. You of course panic when your first wake up, but immediately remember.

You begin to take in your surroundings. You are in a dark sort of cave. It’s hard to see much, but you are very much alone. It unnerves you. Where the hell was Katsuki?

You begin to move but forget about your new appendages. You quickly turn around to get a look at your tail and gasp. It was pretty. A light green, with glittering scales that are not that exciting in the darkness. But still, you could tell it was beautiful. It was definitely smaller than Katsuki’s massive orange one, but definitely still large.

You put all your years of playing mermaid in the public pool into the effort at this exact moment and suddenly, you are swimming. Not fast, of course, considering you are definitely confined into a small space, but definitely something. You smile wide and swim in circles, twirling around, fulfilling your childhood dreams.

Suddenly a noise startles you out of your thoughts. You freeze and quickly duck low, hiding from whoever it was. Chances were, it was Katsuki, but you aren’t willing to risk it.

“I don’t know man, this seems like a bad idea. Bakugou is going to kill us if he sees us.”

“Just one peek. It will be fine, Kirishima, stop being such a guppy. We will ask her not to tell him we were here!” Eijiro looks over toward the blonde mer, and nods hesitantly. He begins to drag the shark toward the end of the cave.

Suddenly, a rock is thrown at them. Not hard, considering you are not used to the dynamics of force in the water, but definitely still there. The shark jumps and looks at you in shock. “M-My Queen.” The two strangers bow at you and you grab another rock.

“Who are you guys? And where is Katsuki?” You hiss, green face fins spread in alarm. The two look at you in shock.

The yellow-tailed mer is the first to respond. “How…How can you understand us? Didn’t you just transform?”

You begin to lower the rock in confusion. Then it hits you. You weren’t using your vocal cords the same as usually do. You were clicking and trilling at them. It was instinctual, you didn’t even know you were doing it.

Another figure appears and you hiss on instinct. When you do so though, you immediately cover your mouth, eyes wide in shock.

“I did it!” Mina says with a smile and swimming up close to you, way closer than normal personal space. She grabs your hand and begins to assess it. “I gave you something that helps with understanding mer linguistics. I just couldn’t wait to talk to our new Queen!”

“Does the king know?” Eijiro says eyebrows pinched in concern. He knows that Katsuki doesn’t like doing things without his approval. Especially stuff involving his new mate. That’s why if he and Denki were found out, they were fucked.

“Well, no! But he will be happy! Anyways, what are you guys doing in here? I am making sure the transformation went well.” She turns back to you and runs her hands over your face fins. You flinch at the strange feeling. “My Queen, can you please open your mouth for me?” You abide, and she begins to count your teeth and checks your canines.

Kaminari swims closer to the octopus. “We wanted to take a look! Bakugou really scored, huh? She is so pretty and–”

“I’ll ask you guys again. Where is Katsuki?” You hiss, cutting the blonde mer off. You weren’t trying to be rude, but you were overwhelmed, and the fact that he is not here when you are so vulnerable is upsetting you.

“Demanding! Perfect for a ruler!” He responds, a smile on his plastered on his face like he was used to being treated like this.

“He is hunting for you, my Queen.” The large shark, you were most wary about says, with a soft reassuring smile on his face.

“Y/N. Please, all of you call me Y/N, all this “my Queen” talk is throwing me off.”

They all look at each other hesitantly, wondering how exactly Bakugou will feel about being on a first-name basis with you. But, you were their queen, and this was your first command. So they all nod at you. “Of course…Y/N,” The blonde mer says and you smile. “Im Denki and this is Eijiro. And of course, you met Mina. We are part of King Bakugou’s court.”

Mina lifts your arms up and moves them around, humming to herself. “Anyways, don’t worry, he will be back soon. These two idiots aren’t supposed to be in here but don’t be afraid they are harmless.” The two grin at you at her statement and you return the gesture.

Suddenly, there is noise at the entrance of the cave. Mina drops your arm instantly, and moves to take a peek. She gasps and quickly turns her shocked gaze toward the other two. You watch the boys’ faces pale drastically.

Eijiro quickly stutters out, “M-My King….You are here–” before the two of them are pinned to the floor, held down by the backs of their neck. You gasp and Mina sighs, knowing this was going to happen.

“What the fuck are you two doing in here? I should banish you. Coming in here on my sleeping mate, your Queen, without my permission,” He hisses out, face fins spread wide, pupils constricted, and claws digging into their necks, causing the two to wince. “No, not banish, I should kill you guys for–”

You let out a small yelp, shocked by what the hell is happening. You have never seen Katsuki angry before, and now he is using full sentences to threaten to kill people. His very own subjects! It made you think about what he could do to you.

That’s not even talking about his appearance. He looked animalistic. Like he really would see his threat through. You didn’t know if you really were cut out for the world under the sea.

Katsuki whips his head toward you at the sound, and his eyes widen. He takes in your very much shaken appearance, trying to hide behind Mina. He of course didn’t mean to scare you. He assumed you were still asleep. “Out. All of you. I’ll deal with you later. Now!” The three quickly scamper out of the cave, leaving you alone with the king.

He sighs and rubs at his face. He swims up to you, but instictually, you flinch away due to his appearance. His eyes slowly contract back to usual and his facial fins relax. “Sorry. Sorry. Don’t be scared. Will not hurt you. Sorry. Mate. Protect.” He using your language again. It’s a little muffled under the water, but understandable.

But what really shocks you was how desperate he sounds. He really was afraid that you were scared of him. It made your heart throb. You have to think about it, but you speak in your tongue. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You shocked me a bit, but I’m not afraid of you Katsuki.”

He gently grabs onto your arms and this time you don’t flinch away. He sighs and hugs you. Katsuki mumbles, “Those fucking bastards.” In your neck and you laugh.

“I like them. Eijiro freaked me out at first, but they seem nice.” He jumps and pulls away from you, holding you not at arms length.

He furrows his eyebrows at you, confusion written all over his face. “What? Speak.”

“Um okay?”

“What the fuck? How the hell can you understand–Mina. That idiot! I knew she would somehow ruin this.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and you laugh.

“What’s the big deal? This is a good thing. You now can use full complex sentences. It’s honestly kinda weird, but now I can understand you more, without the growls and grumbles,” You reason and he looks away from you, a small blush on his face. He mumbles something under his breath. You hum in question.

“Nothing. I just–Whatever doesn’t matter.”

You cock your head to the side. “C’mon tell me, if I am to be your mate I have to understand what’s going on in that hard head of yours.” He rolls his eyes at your grin.

Katsuki mumbles out, “Didn’t want you to learn it yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and then bring back the teasing. “Why? So you could be the only one to talk to me?” You smile and lightly tug on the two orange fins attached to his face.

He blushes and turns away from you. You have your answer. A laugh falls from your lips and he growls in embarrassment. “You possessive little shit! How would I be able to rule a kingdom without speaking your language?”

“I would teach you the basics. You could ask me to translate the rest.”

“With your fantastic English speaking?”

“Fuck you! I’m fantastic at speaking it, better than you.” You laugh at his cocky statement, and his eyes fall to your tail.

His grumbles stop as he stares at your tail. He runs his claws over it gently, admiring it. You stop your laughter to follow his gaze. “It’s pretty. Smaller than mine. It fits you. I knew you were destined to be a mer.”

You smile at him. It was rare for Katsuki to speak so gently with you, so you were soaking it all in. But, you turn the conversation back to what’s important. “You scared me earlier.” He scowls, remembering your terrified face, just a couple of minutes ago. “When you weren’t by my side when I woke up.”

His ruby eyes scan your face. “I was hunting. I was with you every second for the past week. If I didn’t I would most likely starve to death. I don’t know why the hell you woke up the one time I was gone. It’s your fault.” You give him a glance that said, really? at his ridiculous answer and he scoffs, giving in immediately. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright.”

He nods before he leads you over to the stone ledge covered in seaweed that you awoke on. “Rest. You just shifted. Mina says you should be sleeping. Can’t have you die on the first day of being a mer.”

“Die?!” You screech and Katsuki laughs mischievously.

“Im fucking with you. I didn’t dedicate six weeks courting your ass just for you to die. Sleep. Now.” You use your new appendage to hit his stomach at his teasing. But, you’re not used to your new strength, so you accidentally hit him way harder than you meant to. He winces and falls forward, having the wind knocked out of him. Your eyes widen and you spit out apologies immediately.

“Pretty and strong. Perfect.” He wheezes and you laugh nervously, fretting over him. He just pushes you back down on the slab, mumbling how he alright. He then curls up next to you and begins to lull you to sleep.

Two weeks go by, and now, officially you are Katsuki’s mate. Two nights ago it became official, and the both of you have bite marks on each other’s necks.

The one on yours is huge, he didn’t even try to make it hidden. It’s right below your ear, and no matter how hard you try, it will be shown to everyone. Possessive bastard.

Katsukis is a lot smaller, you were hesitant about biting him in the first place, so you placed it near his collarbone. He stopped wearing jewelry so that it could be shown and you swear he goes out of his way to crane his neck to display it when talking to someone. It was ridiculous.

But, other than his antics being queen honestly hasn’t been that hard. His court loves you already and his mother absolutely adores you. She saw you once scold Katsuki for being mean to one of his subjects and fell in love immediately.

You live in a palace. It was absolutely massive and was made out of gold. Katsuki says it has been here for hundreds of years. It was completely different than your beach shack, but you were growing fond of it.

Katsuki’s room is definitely very…Katsuki. It was more like a cave in all honestly. He says he likes to go with his roots. His instincts. Mers originally lived in caves after all. You have done some touch-ups to make it more home-like, but kept it the way he likes.

The gifts the both of you received hang upon the walls. It was a little strange to see a tennis ball held in such a protective case, but you didn’t say anything, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

Currently, you were talking to Eijiro as you were swimming to the dining room. You have slowly convinced Katsuki to actually eat in the dining room with the rest of his court, instead of bringing dead fish back in his mouth like a wild animal.

He agreed but forces the chefs to make his and your meals the fish he hunted. Everybody snickers about it behind his back, but nobody has the guts to say anything to his face.

Surprisingly, you actually enjoy eating fish. It took a couple of days of getting used to it, but it was a lot better when the chefs prepared it. You had no idea how they made the sauces for it, considering you guys were under the sea, but you knew you probably didn’t want to find out.

“And then we helped the guppy find his parents!” Eijiro clicks, snapping you out of your daydream. He was telling you about his day guarding the city.

You smile at him. “How sweet. I’m not surprised, you are a great soldier.” He grins at you and nods. The shark seems to have taken a liking to you, considering you don’t shit on him constantly like Katsuki does. You don’t mind. It was nice to have friends, you didn’t have many on the surface.

Suddenly the door behind you opens and the two of you turn toward it. Eijiro, like always, bows low in greeting. You smile.

Katsuki swims over toward the two of you, with the usual scowl plastered on his face. “Why talk to him?” He grumbles, not liking that you are alone with the shark. He knows nothing will ever happen, but still, it was annoying that he has so many kingly duties that he doesn’t get to spend as much time with you as his court does.

You rephrase his statement. “He asked us what we are talking about.” The shark nods and Katsuki looks at you like you slapped him. You cock your head, confused.

“Don’t trans–late. He is idiot.”

“You know he is a member of your court.”

“Our court.”

“Yes, our court.” He nods in triumph and you sigh, but smile. Katsuki has been going out of his way to talk to you in English. He likes the idea that only the two of you can communicate with one another like this.

The blonde swims up to you and presses his lips to yours, without a warning. Eijiro lets out a disgusted noise, before turning away and heading to the dining room by himself.

“Really?” You sigh when you pull away. He grins mischievously and grabs you by the hand, before leading you to the dining room.

Upon your entrance, your court “stands” from their chairs. They all bow and simultaneously say, “Greetings to His and Her Majesty.”

You smile and wave at your new family, you manage to get a small wave back from Denki. You still aren’t used to the whole dramatic greetings. Katsuki just nods in approval.

Katsuki sits at one end of the table, and you sit at the other. You actually hate doing this, you much rather sit next to one another, but it was important for the king and queen to also show respect.

You receive your custom-made meals, and your mate grins from across the room. “Salmon. Good.”

“Thanks, Kats.” You smile warmly at him, knowing he takes immense pride whenever he has “provided” for you successfully. He huffs but uses his hand to wave the thanks off. Denki has to hold back a laugh.

The others receive their meals and begin to indulge themselves. You are the only one who uses silverware, but you don’t mind, you are now used to the way merfolk eat. The first day it almost gave you a heart attack watching them viciously tear into the fish.

You talk to Mitsuki for most of the meal and occasionally join in Mina’s conversations. Katsuki talks to Eijiro most of the meal, but the two of you make eye contact multiple times. You always smile at him. It was a nice dinner. It always was.

You really love it here. Everyone is so kind to you. Being a queen is not too hard, but that is simply because Katsuki is really good at being a king. He is respected by everyone, so naturally, as his mate, you are too. Plus you haven’t had to make any life-changing decisions. Katsuki did that for you, and you were grateful. You didn’t have much experience ruling people.

Dinner ends uneventfully and you dont mind. The routine is nice. Katsuki leads you back to his room. It was the first time you have seen him all day besides dinner.

The day ends with just the two of you. You lay facing one another, and Katsuki runs his fingers through your hair. He kisses the bitemark on your neck. He then murmurs, “My Queen.” into your neck.

“Hmm?”

“Just like saying it.” You laugh lightly.

You sigh and look toward the stone ceiling. “It’s weird. If someone told me that I would be a ruler a year ago I would have fainted.”

He grins, canines on full display. You remember when they used to freak you out. Now you can’t help but love them. “Would you believe that you are mated to the strongest being of the sea?”

“I think you mean the most arrogant bastard of the sea.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

You roll your eyes and switch back to your native language. “Mated to a man who thought courting meant trading. What a strange thing.”

“Your fault! Dumbass!”

You grin at him. “How was that my fault? You really thought I was coming onto you that fast?”

He grumbles to himself. “Wouldnt be sup–rised. Happened before.”

You fake gasp. “Don’t tell me. Have you been trading with other mers before you met me? I’m wounded Katsuki!” You knew the answer to that, having heard him multiple times tell you that he only had eyes for you.

“Yeah. Traded with many mers. Way prettier than you.” He nibbles on your jaw, a sign of affectionate teasing. He has also told you multiple times in high dramatics that he was “mated to the prettiest being of the sea.”.

You laugh and continue the joke. “Don’t worry, I understand. I “traded” with tons of other human men too.”

He growls and runs his teeth over the mating mark. “Joke over.”

You pet his head, still grinning. “Who said I was joking?” He looks up at you, squinting at you and frowning. He can tell by the look on your face that you are lying.

He quickly switches tactics to lightly gnawing on your skin, earning squeals from the ticklish feeling. He pins you down to stop your squirming. It doesn’t stop your hysterical laughing. “Stop! That tickles! Mercy! Katsuki!”

“Say it.”

“Say what!?”

He stares at you. “Fine! Fine! I have only traded with you!”

“And?” The mer prompts, as he moves to your stomach to lightly bite it. You continue to squirm, but you know what he wants you to say.

“And….Katsuki! Im going to pee myself! And I am so happy to be mated to the strongest being of the sea!”

“And?”

“And what?!”

“You know.”

“And I love being Queen of the sea! And I’ll never turn back human!” He releases you with a grunt and you begin to pant, trying to regain your composure.

He didn’t mean to get you to say that last part, but he can’t help but feel an immense amount of joy from the words. He is afraid you’ll get sick of the life of a queen. The reassurance helps.

Once you calm down, you glare at him for torturing you. “I am going to kill you Katsuki Bakugou!”

“With those little fangs? You can try.” You pounce on him immediately and the two of you twirl in the bed. He laughs and growls playfully at you. Katsuki barely lets you win. He smiles when he feels those dull claws, compared to his, pins him against the bed. He will let you have this moment, especially after what you just said.

The poor servants were left red in the face when they passed your door, hearing the thumping, growling, and squealing coming from the King and Queens bedroom.

1K notes · View notes

arcielee · 9 months

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Zȳha lyks

Summary: You find an ally with the second son of King Viserys. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Word Count: 2.4k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, fat phobia, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, overstimulation, loss of virginity implied. Author's Note: This story is based on this request:

I definitely tweaked it a bit but I hope you enjoy it.💜 Thank you to my beloved beta reader @annikin-im-panicin for your insight with this peace and to @azperja for your emojis 💜 Valyrian translations: Zȳha lyks is his peace 💜 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

It was your father’s ambition to weave himself in the inner circle of the crowned princess that pulled you away from Claw Isle, leaving your brother behind to step into the role vacant for House Celtigar. During your journey, your father would repeatedly impress the importance of absorbing the tutoring of the maesters, to learn of your ancestral history before it had been so diluted by the blood of Westeros…but he was also adamant that you were to take advantage of your social seating, to make worthwhile and lifelong allies while in King’s Landing.

You were quick to note the marionette strings that Prince Aegon held, allowing the Strong bastards to hold their heads high with their snide comments on how they found you, “pleasantly plump enough,” or so they supposed.

It cut through your skin and burrowed into your heart, but your face never betrayed your anger nor your hurt. Instead, you went to your father with your heartache but his response was almost flippant about your torment.

“Our blood stems from the veins of Old Valyria,” your father now spoke of this as a fact, as something without any room to argue against. “They are our kinfolk and we seem destined to intertwine our blood with the blood of the dragon.”

But on this day you pushed aside your father’s words the moment you saw Prince Aegon and his puppets shift their collective cruelty onto the second son of King Viserys, Prince Aemond Targaryen.

He was a quiet, sullen boy, who always seemed sunkissed and kept his large, lavender eyes downcast. You saw how his pain curved his posture, a hooded melancholy draped across his slouched shoulders. He blanched as the boys retrieved the Pink Dread, his freckles stark on his porcelain skin.

Their gibe laughter echoed within the Dragon Pit and it boiled your blood, urging your steps forward to push past the brunette pair of princes and towards the puppeteer. Aegon’s brow raised, amused with your flushed fury that was staining your features, quick to sneer his comment on how, “–perhaps this swine could be mounted in–” but it stopped once your balled fist cracked into his nose.

Your satisfaction trilled up and down your spine with the pop of cartilage, watching as he cupped his face and the crimson that poured between his fingers. His wounded howl called back the Dragonkeepers and the White Cloaks assigned to them, all horrified at the sight. You were in trouble, undoubtedly, feeling the large hand that curled around your wrist to drag you back to your father. You dared look at Aemond, catching the upturn quirk of his mouth, the glitter in his eyes that met with your own.

It began a bond with the foundation of a mutual disdain, a hatred that would be solidified with events at Driftmark.

The events that followed that fateful night were flurried: the crowned princess all but fled the capital with her new husband and children, while your father decided to uproot and follow after. This had been halted by the queen’s request, behest of her daughter Princess Helaena, asking if you would remain as one of her ladies and confidants.

It was something that could not be denied and you found yourself alone with Helaena, her first request was for you to bring a book to her brother, who had since been boarded up in his room to recover.

“Am I to read to him?” You peered up from the cover to Helaena. “What if he does not wish to see me?”

“I believe this book and its company would interest him,” she glowed with her sweet smile, “I believe he would enjoy the change in narration, as our maester is rather monotone,” was all that she offered.

At first, Aemond had been hesitant of your company, bashful of the bloodied bandages that required to be tended to, but you showed to be steadfast, unflinching, but with a sense of empathy without the effortful pity that came from everyone else. You saw how he warmed as your visitations turned habitual, with you joining with his lessons and remaining when the maesters left. Helaena would slyly dismiss you for the day and this allowed Aemond to help you practice your shared ancestral tongue, or listen to whatever tome caught your attention in the library, even delving into bits of gossip or updates that pertained to his dragon.

“Vhagar flies over once a day. I assume it is to check on you,” you informed him one afternoon, “and she rests on the outside of the city walls, overlooking the bay.”

His cheeks pinked with his shy admittance, “I can feel her.”

You could not help your smile in return. Whereas Helaena was always sweet and always kind to you, and even Aegon had a newfound respect in your regard, you found it was the second son of King Viserys that allowed you to find a sense of comfort that you thought had been left at home.

Aemond recovered, as you knew he would, and you still remained at his blindside as he reacclimated to his new depth perception. He began to wear an eyepatch over his scarred socket, its wrathful red line curling above and below, along with his apprehension to the whispers of the court about the marred Targaryen prince.

“You are the rider of Vhagar, with the blood of the dragon in your veins,” you reminded him, your own blood rising to the surface. “Pay them no mind.”

Aemond listened to you, as he always did, focusing his determination on relearning his world with his handicap. You watched as he grew tall, his sinewy frame becoming taut under his fitted tunic and slacks, a result of the countless hours he spent training with Ser Criston. He matured with a severity etched into the marble he seemed to be chiseled from, though you still would see a perpetual smirk that would play across his lips.

Your heart fluttered until it bruised against your breastbone when he shyly asked that you would walk on his right side. “I wish to be able to see you,” he murmured and you burned with his words. Aemond showed consideration to match his gait with your steps and you enjoyed the heat that seemed to permeate from him; his large palm would cover your own, tucking it into the crook of his arm to keep you close at his side.

Worthwhile and lifelong allies, your father’s mantra repeated in your mind, but on his eight and tenth nameday, you felt the thrum of an unknown emotion vibrating within you with his close proximity.

His mother had gifted him a sapphire stone that was carved to fit where his eye once been, and when he focused his bicolored gaze on you–how the blue was brought out in his lavender eye with the complement of the gemstone, its amber flecks in the shine from the candles lit–did you feel the air pull from your lungs.

You had never cared for the vicious tittering of the noblewomen and would find yourself arguing how Aemond was handsome still, as it seemed a quality trait that most Targaryen men possessed. But in that moment, as the warmth flooded your features from his steady stare that now bore through you, you began to grasp it to be so much more for you.

Aemond misread your reaction, flinching to pull on his eyepatch with his apology: “I would never want to offend you–”

Your hand reached with its own volition, touching his elbow to stop him. He paused and looked at you and you took a breath before you could manage to say, “Aemond, you are beautiful.”

You burned from your boldness that was spilling from your tongue, your realization of what began as a mutual hatred for his nephews was on the precipice of something you knew you could not ignore.

Aemond watched you, his eye flitting over, before he tucked his eyepatch into his pocket and then offered his elbow to you. “Come, Lady Celtigar, we should not keep them waiting,” his voice low, and only then did you notice the rose hue that touched his cheeks.

After his celebration, it would be romanticized how the prince disappeared, taking Vhagar to fly to Claw Isle and demand your hand in marriage, against the Lord Hand’s protest for a more strategic pairing. Aemond would not be deterred and he returned with the intention to have you as his wife, which you graciously accepted. The ceremony that followed was intimate, steeped in the tradition of Old Valyria and sealed with a kiss that tasted of iron.

It was then you felt a new shyness that swept through with your muted mortification of the intimacy that was now expected of you, that Aemond would see all of you. He always seemed to take pride with how you were dressed in your finery, gowns stitched to complement your buxom figure, but you soon learned that Aemond much preferred what was beneath the silk and lace.

That night he would show you. He relished to peel away your layers, his mouth ravenous to taste your skin, his tongue licking to follow the natural slopes of your breasts and to the valley between. Aemond was panting with his anticipation, placing hot, opened mouth kisses to cherish your every curve, with gentle nips of his teeth that left blooms of rose as he continued towards your soft stomach and lower. He savoured your taste and how your body responded, how you were breathless, flushed, writhing beneath him.

“Aemond,” you gasped as he nestled between your plush thighs.

He shushed you, his breath warm against your silken folds, and it tickled in a way that caused you to squeeze his head between. His pleasure spilled with a low, guttural groan that rattled your bones beneath, but he would never pull away, as you would learn.

Your fingers combed through his silver hair as he began to tease you, sparks licking the base of your spine as he drank your essence. His gentle touch fell in tandem with his tongue, a pacing that was harmonized with your sweet sighs, only quickening with the flutter of your walls. The sparks of pleasure flashed white with your peak shuddering throughout, pulsing around his digits that remained knuckle deep, coaxing you to completion.

When your breath finally returned, you felt him grinning against your cunt. You found the muscle strength to tilt your chin down and meet with his eye blown, the shine of you on his smug expression. “One more for me, pretty girl,” his tone was low, commanding, his lips feathering your now swollen bloom of nerves.

You were boneless and quivering from your second release and only then did Aemond shift to move on top of you, melting against the softness of your skin, fitting in a way that you never realized before was missing from you.

He captured your mouth, his gentle thrusts filled you, completed you, and he trembled with his own reserve until you finally begged, “Aemond, my love, please, I need you–” that he rolled his hips against you, burying to the hilt with a rhythm that grew desperate. The litany that spilled from your lips as you clung to his shoulders, the flashes returning but with color from this new pleasure rekindling deeper within you.

That night, Aemond showed you the dragon that you were always aware thrummed beneath his practiced poise, something insatiable and wanting. He played the perfect gentleman in court, though his large hands always reached to touch, to grab whenever eyes were turned. You were his peace personified, decorated with love bites of your passion shared, the lifeline to his sanity that balanced on the edge of the coin flipped by the gods.

And it was tested when the crowned princess returned to argue for the claimant of Driftmark.

That night, the dinner had a palpable tension that the minstrels tried to drown with their music. Aemond held his gaze, piercing, loathsome, waiting for a moment to lash out, and that moment came served on a platter: a suckling pig that crackled still from the flames it had been removed from.

You first noticed the crass snickering of Prince Lucerys that was followed by the swell of your husband’s anger, something you quickly abated with the gentle press of your hand to his forearm as you pushed to stand. The room halted, the attention trained to you as you made show to hold up your gilded cup. “Final tribute,” your sickly sweet tone began, “to the health of our nephews…”

You knew that Aemond was watching, his agitation holding him rigid in his seat, his curiosity browed as you continued your insincerity, stating all three of their names with emphasis, “...each of them handsome, wise,” and your lips, stained by the wine, curled upwards, “Strong.”

It was a rippled effect: the shock of the queen, the sharp eyes of the Lord Hand, the heated glare from the other end of the room, but it did not stop you. Instead you looked for the perpetual smirk that was now playing across your husband’s mouth.

“Come now,” you gestured again with your goblet and even Aegon, with a dark chuckle, raised his own, “let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond pushed to stand, his ire returned with a force as he moved to wall you away from Jacaerys. “You dare raise your tone to my wife,” his wrath cut with each word, the fire in his blood pouring from him. “She only meant to compliment you… or do you not think yourself Strong?”

It ended as quick as it had begun with Jacaerys thrown across the floor and a throaty chuckle from the back of Aemond’s throat. The clash of dragons was split apart by the White Cloaks and you watched your husband with a pride blooming in your chest, knitting with the love you now realized you had always carried for him: he was truly beautiful, squared off and fearless, his severity now furrowed onto his features that showed golden from the candles lit.

You held your head high as you walked to grab his sleeve and his attention returned to you, to your touch, though his scowl remained splayed on the sharp edges of his face. You pulled him to leave, to return towards your bedchambers; Aemond brimmed with a passion that you knew needed a release and you would forever be willing to be that vessel for your husband.

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lorei-writes · 5 months

Text

Blessed

William x f!Reader Smut ~1k

Who let the robin out of the cage?

Contents: control, masturbation, corruption, vaginal sex, mirror sex

“William.” Fiery scarlet eyes pierce through you, each a window into the hell of his soul. The devil itself could embrace you. A faithful sinner, you partake in the communion of his hands, the back of his fingers stroking your cheek with sweetly slow diligence. William seizes you by the chin. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, leaves your lipstick just short of being smudged. “Force me out of my hesitation. Just this once. Please.” “Be utterly shameless,” he commands, consumed by the blaze gazing back at him. “Take the lead, my darling robin.”

“You are yet to shed your shame completely? Ha…”

“Will —”

Raining affection washes his name away, a gentle spring mizzle turned summer storm. His lips pressed to yours, William coaxes you to part your mouth, greedy and growing only greedier. The scent of roses envelops you, those long fingers tapping away a crescendoing melody at your spine. You clutch at the lapels of his coat, pull him down by his cravat…

“William.”

Fiery scarlet eyes pierce through you, each a window into the hell of his soul. The devil itself could embrace you. A faithful sinner, you partake in the communion of his hands, the back of his fingers stroking your cheek with sweetly slow diligence. William seizes you by the chin. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, leaves your lipstick just short of being smudged.

“Force me out of my hesitation. Just this once. Please.”

“Be utterly shameless,” he commands, consumed by the blaze gazing back at him. “Take the lead, my darling robin.”

The mattress dips as you push William back. He needn’t order the obvious. But he has, so obey you must, fierce heat raising to your face as your legs straddle his lap, hands cradling his face… for your fingers to slip through his silver moonlight hair and force him to look up. To see you. To admire his tyrannical depravity and your lust, his searing gaze contradicting his blissfully saccharine smile. Selfish, William plays you like an instrument, each touch delivered to your thighs reverberating through your body in harmonic cacophony as your skirt rides up, and up, and up —

Is this a good thing?

Is this a bad thing?

You do not know, but you devour him all the same, your tongue slipping past his lips and sliding against his. Crimson fingernails press into your flesh, thoroughly unimpressed with the dress you still wear. You push his cloak off his shoulders, pull his coat down his arms… Sample him, over and over again, until a field of poppies blooms over his ivory skin, discarded petals marking a path down his neck, his pulse quickening whenever you draw near. You drink him in like sacramental wine. Buttons give in to you, newer and vaster plains being unveiled, there to be shrouded in the intoxicating mist of your breath. Oh, you love it, and you love it when his body quakes as you slide down his toned torso, past his stomach, further down his navel, when you dust affection to the skin at the border of his pants. And you love it when you withdraw.

You are gone, a queen standing tall, proudly staring down her defeated king. Palpable excitement sizzles between the marks you have scattered over him, burning only hotter as you beckon William closer, tempt him, lure him into your snares. Is it the curse…

“Sit.”

… or is it you yourself?

Compelled by your trills, William obeys your orders. Molten desire churning in the pit of your stomach, you shrug the straps of your dress off your shoulders – and yes, red suits you so well, but it is even more beautiful when it adorns the floor of his bedroom. William stares at you in complete adoration, appreciative of your every dimple and mole, every curve, every sweet nook for his kisses to pool inside of. You are free, free to do with him however you may please. You have spread your wings, soared so high, so far away from him… taken a dive, pecked his lips, those devilishly soft and enchanting, poisonous, lips.

Fingers entwined, you lead William away from the bed and towards the armchair. You push him into it, follow in his steps, his engorged need pressing against your back as you make yourself comfortable in his lap. A soft grunt is released; your eyes set on the mirror just a few paces ahead of you, you spread your legs apart. Slowly. Intentionally. Your body needs to be sure he is watching you, that he cannot possibly avert his eyes. Otherwise it would all be for naught.

“William…”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I…” you hesitate. “Give me the command.”

Your eyes lock in the reflection for one painfully long second. Your heart drums, conducted by his smile. “Is that your desire? To be bound?” His whisper wafts by your ear, and like Eve lured by the snake, you give in:

“Yes. It is.”

Scarlet eyes seize you, entrust you with the sin of knowing. “Pleasure yourself for me.”

You cannot resist it.

You do not want to resist it.

You question whether William has even charmed you at all as you watch yourself through half-lidded eyes, your very own hands cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples to then descend to the junction of your legs. You let a finger slip inside to draw out your nectar, add another one… Pump them, in and out, in and out…

“That’s right… That’s a good girl.”

William joins you. You need no further encouragement. Not then. Not when his hands replace yours, when he strokes you so expertly and your tender moans struggle to drown out the irrefutable squelching. Not when you unbuckle his belt, not when you grasp his shaft, stroke it, and not when you let it slide over your slit, wet it with your own desire… sink onto it, all the while watching as it is accepted into your body, filling you so delightfully. The silver mirror does not lie. You move your hips, so mesmerised by your reflections, by the shine of the rings that adorn his fingers as they grasp at your flesh. William caresses your breasts, his touch flowing down your sides. You are blessed. You truly are blessed, you realise, as he begins thrusting into you. Your voice loud and clear, you swear you will give all of yourself to him.

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