#And loves watching his husband with their children

[justmymindandstuff]

Hello I have a request for you: can you please please please write jealousCregan again? Maybe he is jealous of Jace because he thinks he can not compete with a prince

Sunrays and Snowflakes - Cregan Stark x MartellReader

summary: Jacaerys comes to Winterfell to secure the North for Queen Rhaenyra. He is greeted warmly and friendly. But Cregan doesn't like how friendly Jace is with his wife. But what can he say? You are a princess and he is a prince. Maybe this is the match you deserve.

words: 6.425

warnings: jealousy, self-doubt, miscommunication, fluff

a/n: of course I will write jealous Creagn again. Thank you so much for your ask anon. Hope you like it.

English is not my first language // not proofread // Ao3 // no use of Y/N

requests are open // main- masterlist // HotD - masterlist

You stand in the courtyard of Winterfell. Cold wind and snowflakes swirl around you. Nevertheless, you are not freezing. Your husband has made sure that you are always dressed in warm fur coats and thick fabrics.

When you first arrived in Winterfell, you froze for weeks. You grew up under the hot sun, in deserts, water gardens, and heat. Winterfell is the complete opposite.

Nevertheless, you are happy here. You never would have thought that you could be happy here in the cold North. This macgt began purely politically. After the death of his first wife in childbirth, the Lord of Winterfell needed a new wife. To have another heir, just in case. For House Stark.

Your family needed allies in the seven Kingdomes. To secure independence from the Iron Throne. For House Martell.

So ravens were sent back and forth, and shortly after, you were on your way to Winterfell to marry Lord Stark. A Dornish princess for the North.

It was not easy for you to adjust. Cregan had been distant at first, but quickly thawed out. Not even three months into your marriage, it was no longer a political marriage, but love.

Your stepson Rickon is the apple of your eye. A nice, well-mannered, friendly boy, just four years old, but already behaving like an honorable Lord. At least that's what you think, but you are his stepmother after all.

Excited, he stands next to you and watches the sky. His small hand in yours. He wants to see the prince's dragon. Of course, it's all terribly exciting for him.

"Do you think I can pet the dragon?"

Cold fear runs down your spine at the thought of your little boy approaching a fire-breathing monster. Nevertheless, you smile at him before responding.

"You'll have to ask the prince about that."

Heavy footsteps behind you reveal your husband before you hear his voice. "As far as I've heard, the prince is very friendly so don't be afraid to ask."

Cregan places his hand on your lower back as he stands next to you. A smile immediately appears on your face, and you lean slightly into your husband's arms. For a moment, you simply enjoy being with your little family.

"He is a prince just like you are a princess, right?" asks Rickon with the curiosity that only children have.

"Exactly."

"Why didn't you marry a prince instead of father?"

Cregan looks at his son. His jaw tightens slightly, as it always does when he is angry. But you can only laugh and squeeze Rickon's hand.

"I don't need a prince." you say then.

A restlessness spreads among the guards on Winterfell's walls, and immediately Rickon turns his attention back to the sky.

You notice how Cregan tenses slightly next to you. The next few days, the negotiations with the prince, will seal the fate of your house in this Targaryen war. He must now sovereignly fulfill the role of the Lord.You don’t doubt for a second that he will be successful with this task and lead your family out of this crisis.

You stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss on his cold cheek. You want to say something else, but a shadow flies over you. You look up and see a dragon circling above the courtyard. You are almost relieved when you see the dragon, you had feared it would be larger.Nevertheless, the ground trembles slightly as the dragon lands. Prince Jacaerys slips out of the saddle and lands firmly on the ground.

You sink into a curtsy while your husband and your stepson bow.

"Welcome to Winterfell. It is an honor for me and my family to welcome you here."

You straighten up again and look at the prince closely. Dark curls, tousled by the wind. Noble clothing in the colors of his house, red and black. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the wind and the cold, a friendly smile on his face.

"The honor is on my side, Lord Stark. I am grateful that you are receiving me."

You can hear in his voice that he is unsure, but he is trying to hide it. For a moment, their silence lingers. Jacaerys shifts nervously from one foot to the other.

"You must be cold, my prince. Please come inside, we have warm food and drinks prepared." you say with a gesture towards the castle, fully in your role as Lady Stark.

The prince nods and says a word in a language you don't understand. The dragon behind him takes to the air again and flies away.

"He won't attack any people, will he?"" asks Cregan, his voice controlled but worried.

The prince begins to laugh but quickly becomes serious again at a glance into your husband's face. "No. Of course not. Vermax hunts exclusively venison. Even your farmers' cattle is safe. Should it still occur, House Targaryen is, of course, ready to pay compensation."

You immediately recognize that he has memorized this. Cregan nods, he is not yet fully convinced. Tension runs through his shoulders. Quickly, you force a smile onto your lips.

"Your words reassured us. Thank you my Prince." you say, giving Cregan's hand a light squeeze.

Together, you go inside. The halls of Winterfell are warm. A nursemaid takes Rickon while the Prince, Cregan, and you make your way to the great hall. There, bread and salt are first shared before the servants bring warm soup, meat, wine, and beer.

Jacaerys' insecurity falls away a little and he seems to relax. It calms you a little as well. The Targaryens and the Martells have had a rather tense relationship for a long time. It follows from the unwillingness of your people to bend the knee before the Conqueror and the subsequent dragon attacks. You cannot focus on the past now but must support your husband and the North. So you greet Jacaerys with emphasized friendliness while the usual pleasantries are exchanged. Jacaerys praises the beauty of Winterfell, Cregan asks if his journey was pleasant. However, you notice that the longer the meal goes on, the more nervous the prince becomes.

"You surely know by now what has brought me so far north," he begins after the last course is finished.

"The news of your war has reached us, yes," Cregan replies. You place your hand on his thigh and give it a gentle squeeze. Show him your support.

"My mother's birthright was stolen from her." Jacaerys begins, sounding as if he has rehearsed it again.

"One might see it that way." you respond as diplomatically as possible. You don't want Cregan to go to war for the queen. You want him here with you in Winterfell and far away from the battlefield. The mood is a bit tense again. Jacaerys looks at you for a moment. His gaze is uncomfortable for you. Nevertheless, you smile.

"You want my armies and support for your mother's claim." Cregan's words are a statement, not a question.

Jacaerys nods. "Lady Arryn from the Vale has ..."

Cregan raises his hand to interrupt him. "It is of no importance what Lady Arryn promised."

"House Stark swore an oath. An oath of loyalty to the Iron Throne."

"I know. But House Stark also swore an oath to protect the people of the realm. And this oath is a thousand years older than the one made to your ancestor, the Conqueror."

Jacaerys looks at Cregan, confused. "I don't understand, my Lord Stark."

"It's hard to explain. Accompany me to the Wall. Then we'll continue talking about oath and armies."

The prince hesitates for a moment, then he nods."Fine."

"Good, now that that's settled, my prince," you begin, giving him one of your wider smiles. You want to dissolve the tense atmosphere. "We have prepared a small celebration this evening to properly honor your visit. You probably want to rest beforehand. Your journey was long and arduous."

"Yes, of course, thank you, Princess."

"A servant will show you to your guest chambers." says Cregan, already beckoning a servant over.

"I will take care of that. It is an honor and my duty as Lady Stark to host our guests, husband."

Cregan glances briefly at you, then at the prince. He nods. "Fine."

You rise, kiss his cheek, and then turn to the prince. "Please follow me."

He gets up and you accompany him through the halls of your home to the guest chambers. You both remain silent, but you can hardly bear the tense atmosphere.

"My husband doesn't mean any harm. It´s just that is duties as Lord of Winterfell are very important to him."

"I understand, Princess."

You can understand that he feels rejected about the postponement of the negotiations. "The war, however, is of great importance for the future of the kingdom."

"Of course."

"It probably doesn't interest you.House Martell is, after all, independent."

You're trying not to let the insult, which lingers in his tone, get to you and instead smile politely.

"House Martell, perhaps. But House Stark is my family. We keep our vows."

Jacaerys suddenly stops. "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry. I'm just." he interrupts himself.

"I can understand that it is a difficult situation. Your house was certainly not prepared for a war against your own blood."

"No, we weren't," he admits. "I don't have much practice being an envoy."

"You are doing well. Come now, my prince. Everything will surely be fine. Have faith in the oaths of the Lords. They all knelt before your mother and swore loyalty."

Jacaerys nods and smiles slightly. "Yes, I'll try."

Winterfell is showing itself form his best side. The great hall is filled with laughter and music. The food was exquisite. Jacaerys followed your husband's invitation and left his honored seat at the high table to walk beside Cregan through the great hall and speak with the bannermen of House Stark. The mood is good. People are dancing, and for this evening, you can also forget the looming danger. The wine tastes you a little too good today, the warm air in the hall doesn't help, and you notice your mind becoming slightly hazy as the wine takes effect.

You are engrossed in a conversation with Lady Mormont and your cousin Elisan Sand when the prince approaches you. "Princess. A dance?" he asks. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the wine, and he smiles kindly.

"Of course, my prince."

You stand up and let Jacaerys lead you to the dance floor. He leads you through the dance steps elegantly.

"I would like to thank you," he begins. His steps are confident. You have to think for a second about your first dance with your husband. He stepped on your feet three times back then. Even after all the years of your marriage, you couldn't turn Cregan into a dancer. No matter how much you love to dance, your husband rarely joins you on the dance floor. Only in the privacy of your chambers, without an audience, does he sway you to the music.

"For what?"

"Your words this noon. Your trust in your husband and in the oaths of the Lords have reassured me a little."

"The realm would fall apart if Lords did not remember their oaths," you say confidently. The Lords of the Seven Kingdoms cannot be so foolish as to risk a civil war among the dragons. The dispute over the throne would surely be over quickly. Who will supports a usurper?

"I hope so." says the prince. "Still, thank you Lady Stark or Princess. What do you prefer?"

"My name."

He says your name as if to try it on his tongue. "Under one condition, princess." a smile flickers across his lips as he sees your confused look.

"Which one, my prince?"

"Call me Jace."

"Jace it is."

He smiles at you. You wouldn't have expected this kind of kindness from him. At least not towards you. When you look at the history of your families, there has always been nothing but bad blood. But neither Jace nor you seem to care about the past. While you dance, you fall into a pleasant conversation. You are surprised by his sharp mind and friendly demeanor. He is well-read, clever, witty, and charming. In addition, his dance steps are confident and elegant. Jace is not at all the spoiled prince you had imagined. He elicits laughter from you with a few of his jokes, the wine you've drunk contributes, and you join in on his banter. You give him a few clever remarks on his jokes, which makes him laugh. He laughs openly and warmly, so you can't help but laugh along with him. Jacaerys spins you around a few times to the music before pulling you back into his arms. His hand lands a little too low on your lower back, but before you can say anything, he corrects his grip upwards. His cheeks turn a little redder, but you decide to ignore the little accident. Before you can resume your conversation, you are suddenly pulled away from Jace. The tight grip is almost painful. Immediately, you tense up and are about to complain, but the sound of your husband's voice reaches your ears. A smile immediately appears on your lips, the sound of his voice is enough to make your heart beat faster. Sometimes you feel sick of yourself because you love your husband so much that your thoughts are cheesy and full of love.

"You excus, my prince?" Cregan reaches for your hand before Jacaerys can respond.

"Of course." he gives you a slight nod and then leaves the dance floor.

You smile at your husband as you begin to dance. He still seems slightly tense.

"Have you spoken with your bannermen?"

"Yes," he replies shortly.

"They are not thrilled about the prospect of going to war."

"Of course not. Winter is coming. It's not time for war."

You almost have to sigh. Winter always comes. "The prince will surely understand if you can't provide him with any or only a few men."

"I honestly doubt that." his voice is unusually cold. "I just hope he won't burn Winterfell down with his dragon if we really turn him down."

"He wouldn't do that," you say confidently.

"Seems like you know him well already." his jaw tightens and he avoids your gaze. You furrow your eyebrows at his unusual behavior. Cregan is a serious man, but he is not suspicious. He trusts a man's word. Because he always keeps his word. That's how the Stark men are, it's in their blood.

The song ends, but instead of leading you through the next dance, Cregan steps back. He gives you a brief nod.

"I still have to talk with a few Lords." he turns away and just leaves you standing there. He didn't even give you a kiss. Confused, you stand still for a moment before leaving the dance floor. Actually, you would like to dance with your husband a little longer, but you can also understand that he has duties to fulfill.

Your gaze sweeps through the hall. Jace is already dancing again. This time with your sister-in-law Sara.

You are surprised to see her here. Normally, she stays away from such feasts, she doesn't like the looks and the whispers that come with her status as Snow, a bastard from the North. Here in the North, bastards are despised. At your home, it's different. You never had a problem with Sara being a Snow and not a Stark and love her like a sister.

You return to your seat and take another cup of wine. Quickly, you find yourself drawn back into a conversation with Lord Karstark and Lady Pole, so much so that you don't even notice how time flies. Only when you interrupt yourself for the second time in a sentence to yawn you decide that the evening is over for you now. You look around for your husband to let him know that you will be withdrawing. But you can't find him. Confused, you beckon a guard over.

"Where is my husband?"

"Lord Stark has already retired."

Without telling you? That's more than unusual. Once again, you are puzzled by his strange behavior. Nevertheless, you smile at the guard and send him back to his duties. Then you stand up and clap your hands. Immediately, the music falls silent and all attention is on you.

"I will now withdraw. I thank you all for your presence and the kindness with which you welcomed Prince Jacaerys here in Winterfell. Please, drink, dance, and continue to enjoy yourselves. I wish you a pleasant night, my Lords and Ladies."

The attendees, except for Jace, bow to you and you make your way out of the great hall. The door is not yet fully closed when the music starts again and the room is once more filled with loud voices and laughter.

You shiver slightly as the cold air surrounds you and quickly make your way back to your chambers. You are worried. Has something happened that required Cregan's attention and he left the feast because of it? Where could he be? Why didn't he let you know?

As you enter your chambers, you realize that your worry was unfounded. Your husband is already in bed. The chambers are dark, only a single candle still burns on your side of the bed. Cregan lies with his face turned away from you, his breath steady.

"Are you awake, Love?" you ask, but get no response. You quietly slip out of your dress and then into bed. The furs are cold, and you shiver again. You are used to falling asleep in Cregan's warm embrace. It takes a long time for sleep to find you.

When you wake up the next morning, the other side of the bed is empty. You stroke the furs on Cregan's side of the bed. They are already cold. You sigh. Why is he acting so strangely? Where is he? Normally, you wake up together, usually stay in bed for a while longer, cuddle and enjoy the morning together for as long as possible before your duties pull you apart.

A strange feeling spreads within you. You push it aside and swing yourself out of bed. You long for your husband. Nevertheless, you call your maid to help you get dressed and make your way to the nursery to pick up Rickon to break the fast with him.

All morning you have been busy with your duties. Rickon is sitting nearby with his nanny and plays. He keeps asking impatiently when you will finally have time for him. You promised him that today you would go with him to the prince and ask if he could pet the dragon, Vermo,or something like this.

Finally, all the important things are done, and you turn to the little Stark.

"Shall we look for the prince?"

His toys are immediately forgotten, and he runs to you. "Yes, Mother."

Cregan had allowed Rickon to call you that as long as he swore not to forget his real mother. You make sure that Rickon visits the crypt regularly. You also haven't dismissed the friends and ladies of the former Lady Stark from the household. You want to make sure that Rickon grows up with stories of his real mother, from people who truly knew her.

You drape a cloak over him before reaching for your own. For a moment, your fingertips hover over the silver buckle with the direwolf. Once again, you are overcome with longing for your husband. You haven't seen him all morning. That is also unusual. Is he so preoccupied with Jace's visit? Why doesn't he share his worries with you like he usually does?

You take Rickon by the hand and make your way to the guest chambers. There you meet Jace. He greets you with a friendly smile.

"What can I do for you?" he asks.

You gently nudge Rickon and smile encouragingly at him so that he gathers his courage. "Prince Jacaerys. I wanted to ask if I could maybe pet your dragon?" asks Rickon with red cheeks and then shyly hides behind your leg.

Jace kneels down to be at eye level with the little Stark. He smiles warmly. "Of course. Come on, Vermax will surely be happy to have visitors."

Rickon's eyes begin to shine, and he lets go of your hand to run ahead. Jace holds out his arm to you, and together you follow Rickon into the courtyard. So his name is Vermax, you weren't so far off with Vermo after all.

"Vermax hasn't been spotted by the guards. How do you know where he is?" you ask curiously. The hatred between your families has made you ignore everything there is to know about Targaryen and their dragons. That might have been a mistake.

"We share a bond. I can feel him just as he can feel me. I can call him and he will come."

The prince is right, only a few minutes after you enter the courtyard, Vermax lands in front of you.

Jace says a few Valyrian words to him, the dragon makes a whistling sound that resembles a melody before it blows smoke from its nostrils. Jace laughs happily and strokes the scaly monster. You recognize strong affection in his gaze. It surprises you. You always thought the dragons were a means to an end for the Targaryens. A weapon to oppress the people and to justify and secure their claim of power. You were obviously wrong.

Rickon jumps up and down next to you. His gaze is glued to Vermax, and he tugs at your skirt. "May I go to him?"

"Jace?" you ask a little uncertainly. The thought of the little one strokes the dragon definitely makes your stomach turn. But Rickon hasn't talked about anything else for days. You don't want to spoil his joy, so you keep your worries to yourself. The little one doesn't understand how dangerous the dragon actually is. He could easily destroy Winterfell.

Jace turns away from his dragon and reaches out his hand to Rickon.

"Come here. No need for fear."

"I am not afraid," he says, but his voice trembles slightly. Little liar, you think to yourself. Nevertheless, Rickon goes to Jace and reaches for his hand. Slowly, the two approach the dragon. Vermax seems to be completely calm, yet you are tense. A snap and Rickon could be seriously injured or even die. You would personally snap Jace's neck if he endangered the boy.

Jace says something to Rickon, he nods and slowly reaches out his hand. When his small hand touches the scales on the dragon's nose, it squeaks excitedly and he quickly pulls it back. "He feels warm." he exclaims, turning to you. His eyes sparkle with excitement and his smile is so wide and cheerful that despite your worry, you can't help but smile too. "Come on Mother, pet him too." Uncertain, you look at Jace. He nods encouragingly at you.

Slowly, you walk towards the dragon. As you stretch out your hand, it trembles slightly. Vermax whips his head around and you flinch back in shock. Rickon giggles joyfully, his fear seems to have vanished.

"May I?" asks Jace, nodding towards your hand. You hesitate for a moment but then nod. Jace reaches for your hand and gently places it on Vermax's nose. You can feel the warmth of his scales even through your glove. For a moment, you hesitate, then you stroke the dragon. Excitement floods through you and you have to laugh. You are petting a dragon. Probably the first person from House Martell to ever pet a dragon. But when Vermax lets out a growl, you quickly step back. You don't want to push your luck.

Rickon pulls on Jace's cloak. "How often do you ride him? How does it feel? Do you have a fear of heights when you fly? Is the saddle comfortable?" he bombards him with questions. Jace and you both chuckle lightly, then the prince kneels again to be at eye level with Rickon.

"I fly with him at every opportunity I get. It is incredibly fun to fly, and no, I am not afraid of heights. As for the saddle, there are more comfortable seats but I'm not complaining." he answers patiently to every question.

"Can I sit on it too?"

Jace looks at you at this question. Uncertain, you shrug your shoulders. You are not sure if Cregan would like it if his son goes this close to the dragon.

"Sure, but it's not my permission that counts."

"Please, please, Mother." Rickon begs, and at the look from his large dark eyes that he inherited from his father, you weaken.

"But only for a short moment and you do exactly what Jace tells you."

"Yes, of course." he jumps up and down excitedly before moving closer to Vermax again. Jace picks him up and approaches his dragon. He lowers his front leg slightly and lets Jace climb onto him. The dragon is completely calm, and you are glad about it.

As the two sit on the dragon's back, Jace begins to explain what all the buckles are for, how to hold the reins, and how he communicates with Vermax while flying using commands and shifting his weight.

You almost have a heart attack at the sight of Rickon on the dragon. You breathe a sigh of relief as Rickon slides down Vermax's wings after Jace's explain him how to do it. Laughing, he runs to you.

"Did you see how I rode the dragon?"

"Yes, of course. That looked really great. Like a real dragon rider," you say to him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

"Do you want to try it ?" Jace asks from the dragon's back.

You quickly shake your head. "Absolutely not." you say.

Jace starts laughing again, but it's a warm laugh, the kind that's so contagious. He is not laughing at you. You laugh with him.

The prince also slides down the wing of his dragon. "Maybe another time," he says then.

"Probably not." you contradict.

"Don't be so sure, I can be very convincing." he winks at you, and you roll your eyes at his banter.

"Rickon." Cregan's voice echoes across the courtyard. You turn around immediately, hoping to finally be able to hold your husband in your arms. Cregan stands on the gallery above the courtyard and looks down at you. Even from down here, you can see his tense posture and his angry gaze. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let Rickon sit on Vermax after all. "You have lessons."

You pause, confused. You are sure that you did not schedule any lessons for Rickon today. His teacher would not visit him again until tomorrow. But perhaps you messed up the plans with all the excitement about the prince's visit and the organization of yesterday's feast.

"Yes, Father." says Rickon quickly and takes a few steps towards the entrance before stopping and turning back to Jace once more. "Thank you for letting me pet the dragon," he says politely and bows before running inside.

You almost burst with pride for the boy when you see that your upbringing is showing. He would become a fine Lord of Winterfell, you are sure of that.

"Thank you, he hasn't talked about anything else. It's very exciting for him that you're here."

Jace smiles. "Gladly. He reminds me of my little brothers. I miss them."

You nod slightly, understanding the homesickness. "I also have to excuse myself, I have duties to attend to." you want to turn away and go to Cregan to finally have a moment alone with him.

"Please give me just one more moment."

You would prefer to refuse and run to Cregan, but politeness forbids it, so you nod and wait eagerly to see what Jace wants from you. He retrieves something from Vermax's saddle and hands you a small box. Confused, you open it, and a necklace comes into view. Pure gold is intricately crafted into suns with spears and three-headed dragons. The seals of House Martell and House Targaryen. A beautiful piece of work. Probably more expensive than most of your wardrobe.

"My mother asked me to hand this to you to remind you of the friendship between our houses."

She wants support from Dorne. She wants to buy you. It annoys you. Nevertheless, you smile.

"Please give your mother my thanks. I will cherish this friendship. But please remind them that I cannot speak for my brother and House Martell. I am a Stark."

Jace face tenses up slightly and his smile looks forced. To save the mood, you take the necklace out of the box.

"Would you help me?"

"Of course." he takes the necklace and you turn around so he can put it on you. When the necklace falls into place, you turn around again. "Thank you." you say and smile. "But I have to go now. You know, duties and that kind of stuff." you try to joke to get out of this irritating moment.

"Yes, of course."

You turn away and go inside. The necklace feels cold against your skin and is heavy. You will wear it as long as Jace visits Winterfell and then simply take it off. Of course, the necklace is beautiful, but you don't necessarily feel the need to carry House Targaryen's sigil with you. Besides, your husband has given you enough necklaces. All made of silver and with the Stark family crest. You like these necklaces a thousand times better even though they are not quite as finely crafted. They are gifts from your husband. He could give you a leather strap, and you would treat it like your greatest treasure. Just because it is a gift from Cregan.

When you arrive inside, unfortunately, you can't find your husband. Frustrated, you exhale. Maybe the Maester knows where he is. But before you can make your way to Winterfell's Maester, you are stopped by the blacksmith. He has an important matter, so you postpone the search for your husband.

Fate, however, is not kind to you, and so you are constantly pulled from one duty to another, and when you finally finish all your tasks, the sun has already set. But even now you can't give in to your need to search for your husband. Jace comes towards you.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, to be honest. I have a letter for my fiancée Baela. Could I borrow a raven?" his cheeks turn slightly red as he holds up the scroll. The thought that the prince took the time to write a love letter in the middle of negotiations about troops for the war makes you smile.

"Of course. Come, I'll show you the way."

Hopefully this is really your last task for today. The longing for your husband is terrible. You can't remember the last time you went a whole day without talking to each other. You long to be pulled into his arms, to feel his kisses, to hear his voice.

You enter your shared chambers. You almost worry that Cregan is already asleep again, but he is sitting by the fireplace. A cup of wine in his hand. His long legs stretched out on the furs, yet his posture is tense. As the door behind you clicks shut, he turns his head towards you. His gaze is angry, his jaw tense. Your smile slips from your face.

"What happened?" you ask worriedly.

"Where were you?" he is on his feet and with two steps by you. The air around him almost pulses with his anger. Confused, you have to blink. What's going on? Worry spreads within you. You want to reach for his hand, but Cregan pulls his arm away. Surprised, you stand there.

"Where were you?" he repeats in a dark voice.

"Um, with Jace we .."

He snorts and interrupts you. A little angry, you furrow your brows. What's wrong with him?

"Jace." he says the name like an insult. "Interesting how close you are to the prince."

You almost want to laugh when you finally understand why your husband is acting so strangely. He is jealous. But with that angry look and tense posture, the laughter get stuck in your throat.

"Cregan." you begin in a gentle voice and take a step towards him. His eyes radiate anger, his whole body is tense. For others, that might seem frightening, but not for you. But again he doesn't let you finish. He looks to the side. His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw is tense.

"You quickly became good friends. I watched you and him. At the feast and today with his dragon and Rickon."

"I'm just being friendly. Like I am with every Lord who comes to visit us." you try to be reasonable. Your voice is calm even though his unfounded jealousy and his doubts about you makes you angry. You don't understand why he has a problem with Jace.

"Not so friendly. I haven't seen you laugh like that for a long time." Now his memory is playing tricks on him.

"That's not true," you say.

"It is." your husband insists. You want to shake some sense into him. "But I can understand you. A handsome prince, of course you're interested in him. He could offer you a lot."

"Do you really think I would care about what he can offer? You give me more than I ever dreamed of. He is a prince, yes. Well, and who cares? How could I be interested in him when I have you?"

Cregan snorts again, avoids your gaze, and crosses his arms over his chest. "He gave you jewelry."

"No! His mother gave me jewelry, he is just the deliverer. The queen wants the support of the Martells, that's why."

"Nevertheless, you strut around with the necklace around your neck as if it were your most precious possession. I understand that. You are used to wearing expensive jewelry and fine gold. The North cannot offer you that."

He is so angry that he doesn't really take in your words. He doesn't want it. He is getting worked up about it. But you know your husband. You know very well that words sometimes don't get through to him. Especially not when he is angry. Cregan is a man of action, not of words. You reach for the necklace and tear it off your own neck. The clasp clinks slightly as it hits the floor, you don't care. You simply throw the necklace into the nearest corner of your chambers. A servant can have it, or it can end up in the trash. You don't care. Who cares about gold necklaces, gemstones, and jewelry?

You approach Cregan, und despite his anger and tension, you are not deterred and simply reach for his hand again. This time he doesn't flinch, but he also doesn't uncross his arms and take your hand. His eyebrows are furrowed, and you can see that his mind is working.

"I am yours and you are mine." you repeat the vow you made years ago before the Heart Tree in Winterfell's Godswood. "Always. Do you really think my love for you is that fragile?" you're almost offended.

"No." Cregan sighs. "It's just. He is a prince. The future king of the Seven Kingdoms. What can I offer you that he can't? You are a princess and you deserve a prince. Even Rickon understood that. A princess belongs to a prince."

You shake your head slightly, reach for his face, and force him to look at you. Of course, he could easily break away from you, but he doesn't.

"Cregan Stark! Who do you think I am? What are the words of my house?"

"Winter is coming," he grumbles as if to make it clear once again that you are his wife. A Stark. Still, you shake your head.

"Not those words."

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken"

"Exactly! And so is my love for you. Do you think I would be impressed by a little prince with a pretty smile? Do you really think I would regret my life here? Regret our family? No. This here, Winterfell, you, our marriage is all I need. I am happy here. I don't want all the frills and fuss. Who needs a prince and a ridiculous Iron Throne anyway? I love you, Cregan. You. And your boy and our home."

"Your life with him would be much more pleasant. No deprivations like here in the cold north. You could live in all the luxury you deserve. Like a real princess. Not hidden and far away from everything. I can't give you the live you deserve. No matter how much I want it."

You put a hand on his cheek. Your thumb caress him gently while you look into his eyes.

"Listen to me carefully! I don't want luxury. I don't want a Red Keep, a court, or bended knees. I want you. I love you. Only you. No one else could ever have my heart. It belongs to you. Always. Completely. I love you with my heart and soul. I could never be happier than with you. Do you understand what I'm saying? There is no reason to be jealous of a little prince."

Cregan's gaze is upon you. His eyes dart over your face. Suddenly, he leans forward and his lips crash onto yours. You are startled for a moment but then you return his kiss. The passion washes over you like a wave, your hands burying themselves in his dark hair while Cregan's hands wander to your back and he pulls you closer to him. Breathless, you pull away from each other. Cregan leans his forehead against yours, holding you tightly in his arms.

"I'm sorry. I saw you and the prince and my thoughts got the better of me. I know that I am not good enough for you. I never was, I never will be. I'm sorry, love. I just love you so much." he kisses your forehead.

You smile and bury your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. Love and warmth course through you as he holds you so close.

"Never doubt yourself, my Love. As long as my heart beats, it beats for you and only for you."

[xetlynn]

REQUESTED

Arcane Imagines- Vander Headcannons

X Piltover reader Headcannons

[arcane] [main page]

When you were a young adult you wandered into the undercity after a fight with your ex boyfriend, finding Vander’s bar and going in since you didn’t have anywhere else to go at the time. Vander, Felicia and Silco were alone there. They stared at you at first so you turned around to leave but Vander welcomed you in. 

Felicia and Silco were weary of you at first. Vander seemed to click with you instantly. Even though you were from the uppercity you seemed to have been through a lot yourself. 

After that night you kept going to see Vander. Talking for hours on end. 

It took some time but you got close with Felicia and Silco as well. 

As you got closer with Vander though, feelings grew and you two were inseparable. You guys started dating 6 months after meeting. He wanted to wait since you had just gotten out of something rough before you met him. You understood and just enjoyed his presence in the beginning. 

A couple months later you decided to move to Zaun, it seemed idiotic to your family but it was more of a home than Piltover ever was to you. You lived with your boyfriend behind the Last Drop. 

When Felicia had Vi and Powder you and Vander were watching them whenever Felicia and her husband ever needed it. Creating a close bond with the two girls. 

You and Vander had a small wedding, the girls as your flower girls. Felicia, her husband, and Benzo were there and that was it. Silco didn’t show due to Vander and him getting into heated arguments deciding to go different ways. 

When the couple passed away Vander and you had taken the girls in, along with Claggor and Mylo after they were orphaned as well. 

You and Vander ran the bar together while also being full time parents. It was a lot of work but so worth it to the both of you. Loving those kids with your whole hearts. 

And when they pulled their stunt in the uppercity it devastated you. Especially because they felt like they had to do that to help Vander and you. 

You reprimanded the children as Vander spoke with Vi who was the head of the operation. You explained to them how that is not okay. And not to worry about adult things since Vander and you had it handled. 

When Vi went to turn herself in and Vander locked her up going to turn himself in, you pleaded with him not to. Not wanting to lose anyone in the situation. Begging that there has to be another way. You and him argued and you stayed home with the children. You went to the bathroom for not even five minutes to cry and when you came out the children were after their father figure. 

When you got there you were too late, the place engulfed in flames. Vi was taken by enforcers, locked up. Powder was gone and you found your husband’s body along with your two sons. 

You were devastated. You lost everything. You lost your lover/best friend. Your children. You found out that Benzo was even killed. When you found that you, you took Ekko in. 

It was hard in the beginning. But you built something amazing with Ekko. The Fireflies. 

<3 Time Skip <3

Finding out Powder was with Silco hurt you beyond belief. You couldn’t believe an old friend didn’t even have the decency that your daughter was alive. You hoped she was alive since you never found her body that night. But she’s not even Powder anymore. 

And when Vi came out of prison, Ekko bumped into her. Attacking her, not knowing if she was working for Silco as well. After that he brought her to see you. The both of you share a huge embrace. Both sobbing, clinging onto one another. 

As time passed and Jinx attacked the Piltover Council. Zaun went deeper into a bad state as Piltover got stricter with the people in the undercity. 

Jinx was wanted. People dyed their hair blue in honor of the girl who defied against the Uppercity. She was nowhere to be found though.

The tree sanctuary was running strong but the tree they depend on was getting sick. Ekko and Heimerdinger decided to figure it out with Jayce’s help. 

You went out some time after that and bumped into Vi along with some large guy. Vi’s hair was now black. The large guy, Loris, explained everything that happened. You were shocked that Vi tried to kill her own sister. You helped Loris with taking care of Vi. She was a mess. 

One day you went home from one of her fights with her and Jinx was in her room. You had to calm Vi down so the two of you could hear her out. 

When she said Vander was alive your heart sank into your stomach. You went with the girls, even meeting Isha. Isha loved you, making you carry her in the tunnels. 

When Vi and Jinx fought you just watched, knowing they needed it out of their systems. Isha went to stop Vi, ending up getting hit. You observed how caring Jinx was with the tiny one. 

Moments later though a beast attacked you and Vi. Jinx was pleading for you to not hurt him. He was Vander. 

Your eyes locked with his mid fight before he attacked you and he immediately stopped his movements. “[Name]?” He turned to Vi as well. “Violet.” He spoke. 

The two of you embracing him in a hug. Vi told Jinx to join and then you waved to Isha as well. Savoring every moment. 

[readingiskeepingmegoing]

I have thoughts on the relationship of Acacius and Lucilla. 

I have thoughts on the relationship of Acacius and Lucilla. 

!!Spoiler Warning!!

If you haven't seen the movie yet, maybe swerve this one until you have.

I am in no way a writer, and this is essentially just a word jumble that fell out of my brain. Please be gentle with me.  

Massive thanks to @schnarfer and @jessthebaker for listening to me yell and sharing your thoughts with me. Your insights were invaluable.    We see Acacius and Lucilla deeply in love in the movie. But I think they came to this over time.     

In the flashback scene of Lucilla taking Lucius from the arena after Maximus and Commodus have died, it appears to be Acacius who is helping him onto the horse. So from this we can infer that the pair have known each other for a long time, and that Acacius is loyal to Lucilla, just as he was loyal to Maximus. It makes me wonder if Maximus had maybe sent word to him to protect Lucilla and Lucius. A role that Acacius take seriously and sees through to the end. 

  Lucilla is held in high regard by the Roman people and even called Queen, and that gives her power, but it also makes her dangerous to the incumbent Emperor/s, and keeps her in constant personal danger.    Acacius was trained by Maximus. He clearly remains loyal to him even after his death. The Emperor after Commodus would no doubt have been suspicious of him and anyone who had served closely with Maximus. If one General could defeat an Emperor, then why not another?     I see the Emperor initially using Acacius as Lucilla's jailer. "Keep her in line or we will know you are not loyal" sort of thing. While also making sure that Lucilla knew that she was being watched. Not even safe to confide in her maids.    There will no doubt have been a bit of resentment there, especially from Lucilla, who doesn't know what lengths Acacius is going to, to keep them both alive and as free as possible.    Acacius falls in love with Lucilla before she falls in love with him. He may have known about Lucilla and Maxmus's relationship. And it is easy to see why he would have been attracted to her. The Emperor/s probably would have noticed a change in how he is with her, how he looked at her and so the manipulation would have changed. "Do what we say or we will send your wife to you on the battlefield, wouldn't it be terrible if something happened to her on the journey to you?" 

During time away from war, Acacius and Lucilla may have found their relationship to be strained in the beginning. He will have been so much lower in rank that her, the only thing they would have really have had in common at the start would have been their love of Maximus. Over time cordiality will have grown between them, deepening to a mutual respect.    Acacius comes home from battle grievously wounded, and that is when Lucilla realises that she loves him. The Emperor/s send nurses to care for him, and she sends them all away and tends him herself, pouring all of her newly discovered love into healing him, calling on her childhood nurse who is skilled in the arts of wise women. And during this time they get to truly know each other and their passionate love grows in earnest.    

I also feel as though Lucilla will not have wanted more children. She will not have wanted to hand the Emperor/s more leverage over her, nor have wanted to see her children chewed up and spit out by what Rome becomes. So Acacius respects her choice and encourages her to get whatever contraceptive remedies are most effective from her nurse, so that he can be her husband in every way. 

  They clearly have no secrets, he knew that Maximus was Lucius's father. He did not hesitate to try to free Lucius at Lucilla's request. This, to me, makes his sacrifice in the arena more heartbreaking. He is trying to protect his beloved wife from losing her son again, and upholding his loyalty to the man who trained him.  

If you made it all the way to the end, thank you for bearing with the rantings and ramblings of a madwoman.

Tagging because you asked so sweetly: @ghotifishreads @jennaispunk @missredherring

@noisynightmarepoetry @schnarfer @jessthebaker

[moonstrider9904]

feuilles d'automne

Steb x fem!Reader (Enforcer)

Summary: Amid your assignment to guard a fancy old folks' home in Piltover, you find yourself speechless when you stumble upon a pair of ocean eyes.

Word count: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: Mature and SFW, flirting, kissing, mild suggestivenes if you squint. Enforcer!Reader. Fluff in general, pre-relationship, first meetings, awkward situations, and I accidently created a side original character who I adore. Enjoy!

Sequel: après la bataille | My Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Thank you to everyone who's read, reblogged, and commented on après la bataille. I did not expect it to be met with so much love and support. Our precious fishman husband would be happy to know such a lovely bunch of people are his fans. You have all made writing these stories all the more fun and enjoyable 💙

The scene before you looked like it could have been taken from an Ionian painting. Rays of golden sunlight peered through the spaces between orange, red, and yellow leaves of many trees around the courtyard of the Verona old folks’ home, a peaceful place that lay in the northern outskirts of Piltover, far away from Zaun and the heart of the city where the shops and the smog could cloud the horizon.

Your assignment was simple: make sure the elderly folks who lived their days out in that home didn’t get into trouble. You couldn’t think of anything less challenging to an enforcer hungry to serve, not that you’d complain. It was work, and it was quite the lovely setting. Standing on the porch of the main building, a large mansion built in white stone with a dark blue stone tile roof, its architectural style being some fusion of classic Piltovan and mild Ionian influences in the details and finishings, you breathed in the clean, fresh air. Your eyes would continue to scan the celestial beams of light bleeding through the trees and eventually finding rest either in the grass, cobblestone paths, or even the small glistening pond at the very center of the courtyard.

On the bridge that went over the pond was an old couple who, according to what you’d heard so far, had known each other since they were children—how beautiful to spend a lifetime next to someone, and to face one’s own twilight in a place as peaceful and beautiful as that, holding the hand of the person who’d been through it all with you. It was a bittersweet thought, but such a place evoked those emotions in you, and suddenly, you felt lonely, longing and yearning for a companion. Regardless, you remained the only enforcer manning your post, forcing yourself to tear your attention away from romanticizing the peace of the scenery you beheld to keep watch of the elderly in your charge, only to be met by—surprise—no signs of trouble.

And then you heard the whistle. You weren’t particularly fond of the high-pitched sound of your own whistle, a part of your gear as an enforcer to use as a first means to dissipate any trouble you encountered, or simply to call attention to anything of note. You weren’t exactly happy by the fact that the whistle you heard at that peaceful moment, now broken, hadn’t been your own. Your knowledge up until that moment had been that you were the only enforcer on duty at the courtyard, and you sooner would have contemplated the possibility of one particularly mischievous elderly woman sneaking it away from you and blowing it to cause her equivalent of a riot in an old folks’ home, than to face the possibility of a counterpart entering the scene to aid in your assignment. When the whistle faded from your ears, you looked over your shoulder.

Only half looking forward to the encounter and with little hopes of it being transcendent, when your eyes caught even a glimpse of the whistle’s perpetrator, you lost the ability to move. Any notion of how to blink or breathe seemed to leave you, and if you were turning your neck to allow your gaze to follow his figure, you were sure it was his doing, drawing your eyes to him like a magnet, rather than your own will. You had just started to feel the air and the sunlight sting at your unblinking eyes, and then you saw that his own were now looking at you. The golden leaves and grass of autumn faded for a moment into an endless oceanic hue that could make you feel immersed in the deepest seas far off the other side of Runeterra. And for the amount of detail you picked up on during that single glance, you could have sworn you’d been staring for ages already—the way his blue-green skin contrasted with the rich blue of his uniform and even more so with the golden landscape, the way his resting face appeared so unamused that it made you fear yourself unworthy of speaking to him, the subtle lines near his jawline that you found out to be gills, and possibly the most stunning of all, the delicate frills crowning his eyes that could nearly be mistaken for the rest of the markings decorating his skin.

And for all the distance in this Vastayan enforcer, his eyes seemed to become more round as he too looked at you, with his gaze visibly softening for a moment while the frills around his eyes moved in a delicate wave before coming to a halt. Your mind replayed that scene for you countless times, and for the way you felt your chest swelling, you figured it was a miracle you weren’t yet flat on the ground.

“Hark,” you squawked, failing miserably in your first attempt to greet him.

He raised a brow and didn’t do much more for gestures, making you wish you could blend into the nearest tree trunk and stay there.

“It is time for them to return inside, is it not?” He finally spoke in a thick, elegant accent, and the rich sound of his voice dissipated your embarrassment. His voice was baritone, deep and far smoother than you could have expected—for a moment you couldn’t believe it could really be coming from him. His striking physique alone was already too much to contend with.

“Y-Yeah,” you brought yourself back to stability, fidgeting among the pouches of your belt to pull out your pocket watch and glanced at the time. 4:01 exactly—yes, it was time for them to go inside, and the telltale hand of the pocket watch tilted slightly off the 12 mark let you know you had been in awe of this man for a solid minute, and you were already done for. The pocket watch may as well have been laughing at you. But you closed it up and put it back into your pouch, exhaling with as much confidence as you could muster. “Yes, 4:00 is the cutoff, and they’re expected to be coming back in to prepare for dinner.”

“Then why aren’t they coming?” He asked, glancing out at the old folks who continued to enjoy their time in the chilly fresh air and sunlight.

“Oh, I usually opt for a different signal,” you answered, taking a step forward and inhaled all the way to your belly. “TIME’S UP, COME IN FOR DINNER!”

Your six words caught the attention of all the elderly scattered in the courtyard and, slowly but surely, they all began making their way towards the porch where you stood, chatting pleasantly amongst themselves and their aides. It was hard for you not to giggle when you looked over at your new acquaintance and saw his round eyes gazing at you, his frills standing upright at the shock of such a loud voice emerging from you.

“I’ve been doing this for a week,” you flaunted.

“I can…” he trailed off for a moment as he flinched his gaze over to the courtyard again. “Tell… though even with your lungs, you missed one.”

You looked in the direction he was gazing, and you weren’t surprised when you saw the youngest soul in the entire old folks’ home getting ready to rebel against your command. The dowager Mrs. Evelyn McCawley, or Granny Evelyn as you’d come to call her, was a short little old woman who made one think of hugs and freshly baked cookies. That day, she was wearing a bright red sweater and her hair was packed into a neat low bun, and she was looking over at you and your new companion from the other side of the pond as though wanting to get your attention. You knew her well already, but you once again wanted to giggle at how your new partner must have been puzzled by her, unaware of the sheer amount of stunts you’d already witnessed from that woman.

“You won’t take me!” Granny Evelyn shouted and turned her back on you, charging as fast as she could (and that wasn’t very a fast walk, mind you) for a tree nearby.

“Is she well?” He asked you.

You chuckled. “Yeah, she does this. The high point of Granny Evelyn’s day is the courtyard, and that’s saying something, as you can probably tell from her charming demeanor. You’ll never meet anyone who has more fun with life than her.”

There was no need to watch over the rest of the elderly walking onto the porch, as any of them who needed help were already being guided by their nurses. You and your companion kept your gaze fixed on a whooping and giggling Granny Evelyn as she took quick, small little steps toward the tree until reaching the trunk, clutching her hands onto it, and lowering herself to the ground where she lay face down on the grass, her little frame illuminated by the rays of sun that escaped through the leaves.

“Can she get up from there on her own?” Your new companion asked, his eyes widening in concern.

“Nope,” you chuckled, unbothered. “Someone better check on her.”

“I’ve got this,” he said, starting his way in Granny Evelyn’s direction.

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” you replied as you picked up on the concern in his deep, luscious voice. “She just needs help getting off the ground.”

You walked after him through the dreamy courtyard and crossed the bridge over the pond—in other circumstances, your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d make more of a play to spend some time with him in that romantic bridge, maybe finally ask him what his name was, but flirting while Granny Evelyn lay on the grass would raise more than a few red lights in upper command. Eventually, you both reached Granny Evelyn, splattered face down on the grass in a star-like position, and her back suddenly fluttered with a giggle.

“You’ve done this four times this week,” you said to her.

“And every time, I succeed in staying out here longer!” Granny Evelyn teased, her voice muffled in the grass.

“Well, unlucky for you, now I have help,” you tilted your head, and your companion took your words as his cue to get down on his knees to aid Granny Evelyn.

“Ma’am, I’m going to help you up now, if that’s alright,” he said politely, and authority swam in his voice. Granny Evelyn picked up on the unique timbre and rich qualities that floated to her ears, and yours as well, and she jerked her head to the side in his direction to get a glimpse of him.

“Oh?” Granny Evelyn giggled. “Oh, my! Yes, of course you can help me, mister… could you be so kind as to let an old lady know your name?”

He directed a smile at Granny Evelyn, one so discreet and smooth you had to tighten your whole body to keep from sighing dreamily at the sight, or whimpering at how ridiculously gorgeous he was. It was then that you were also able to notice his ears tilted slowly downward, though this was mostly concealed by his uniform hat, and when he gave a slow blink, you picked up on the third eyelid subtly appearing in the movement.

“You may call me Steb,” he said.

“Oh, please help me up, Mr. Steb,” Granny Evelyn’s eyes sparkled at him, and as Steb helped her back up to standing, her gaze shifted between you and him. “Look at you both, so young and bright and loyal to your city.” As she continued glancing at you both, you were able to look away from Steb for long enough to notice the childlike mischief that flashed through her eyes before she fixed her gaze on him again.

“Oh, you are indeed a looker, stunning in your own right!” Granny Evelyn then called you by your name. “Isn’t Steb handsome, dearie?”

You pulled to a halt, and your wide eyes inevitably drifted over to Steb, feeling heat rushing to your cheeks with no signs of stopping or hope of discretion. His ocean blue eyes met yours, and he was also visibly caught off guard by the question, and just as Steb was opening his mouth to speak, possibly to have swiftly dismissed the whole matter and returned things to normal, you just had to open yours.

“Yeah,” the syllable left you quickly, nearly in a whimper, and immediately you felt incapable of meeting his gaze, wishing a chasm would suddenly open in the ground beneath you so that you could use it to be transported far away from there.

“I think so too!” Granny Evelyn’s chirpy cheer diffused some of the tension, and she then turned to Steb. “She’s quite lovely too, is she not?”

Though you were trying not to look at him, you noticed Steb’s calm exterior faltered for a fraction of a second before regaining his composure, and his beautiful eyes were no longer on you.

“I guess,” he answered.

Instantly, you turned your head back in his direction, and against your will, your gaze narrowed at his claim.

“You guess?” Heat rushed to your cheeks again while your brows knit together.

“Woops!” Granny Evelyn said. “Dinner time, folks! I need to be inside!”

With a sigh, you forced your frustrations away and linked your arm in Granny Evelyn’s, leading her across the courtyard and back to the porch while Steb lingered behind the two of you, carefully following your pace in silence. At the top of the porch’s stairs, a nurse waited for Evelyn, and you handed her off with a polite smile, watching as the cheeky granny disappeared into the building. In a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the embarrassment, knowing Steb was still nearby, you pondered on how much of a menace Granny Evelyn must have been as a kid if her old age kept up that amount of spunk.

Now that the elderly were inside preparing for the rest of their evening, you were off duty. You ran out of thoughts and excuses to keep your back turned on him, and as if to emphasize that, you soon heard Steb pacing up the stairs, stopping just a couple of steps below you. You turned around and looked at him, no longer enraged like before, but with your guard up and nowhere near the same amount of dewey-eyed desire you had when you first lay your gaze on him. Steb’s eyes held concern in them, and you knew he was aware of how he made you feel. He then removed his hat, and much to your dismay, he was far more attractive without it.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Would you forgive me?”

You crossed your arms and frowned, angling your body away from him. “I guess,” you spat, quoting him.

A sigh left him, though his lips seemed to curve in the hint of a smile. “I really am sorry. I know you’d rather have heard another response, and… I would rather have said something else.”

Some part of you wanted to admit you’d hoped he’d also, in some way, audibly confirmed he found you attractive. Mundane as it seemed, you felt something like that could make your day. You angled yourself toward him again, your gaze softening as you looked at him—confound how beautiful he looked even when he apologized. Holding his hat at his side, Steb’s gaze softened too, and his round eyes held a tender gleam that somehow made him seem like he was pouting. You thought of how different this look on his face was from the one with which he first walked on the porch, blowing the whistle. At the same time, you noticed his ears slowly tilting up, expecting your answer. But an instinct within you overruled whatever it was you wanted to confess to him, and intrusive thoughts of how everything could become complicated and how embarrassed you felt came pouring in, and you quickly turned around.

“My shift is over,” was the last thing you said, and you ran away from the porch.

You didn’t even want to think of the disappointment Steb felt watching you run away, and you wouldn’t let yourself ponder on how you’d blown it with him in a second. The week that followed that incident wasn’t any easier for you. Steb made attempts to talk to you and make things right, but you wouldn’t budge, and you kept your distance. Naturally quiet as he was, it seemed he wasn’t making much of your situation anymore, and nearly one week after the unfortunate event, you were convinced nothing more of note would happen in regard to the two of you.

One day, you found yourself carrying out your courtyard duty standing alone on the bridge over the pond. Things were as lovely and peaceful in the courtyard as they always were, and you were finally able to focus on the chilly autumn air that you loved so much, as opposed to recent events. Your shift was almost over, and you were looking forward to it being calm and uneventful, but when you heard steps coming onto the bridge—steps that were far too quick and well-placed to belong to an elder—you began to suspect something else was in store.

“Will you really not talk to me again?”

When Steb’s deep, smooth voice filled your senses, you could no longer deny how much you missed him. You turned around and faced him as he cautiously walked up to you at the top of the bridge, stopping a couple paces away from you.

“It’s not like you need much talking anyway,” you replied. “I’ve seen how quiet you are. Besides, you have your whistle.”

He gave a shy chuckle, and you noticed him exhale some tension away.

“It’s a start,” he said, mostly to himself. When you didn’t utter a response, he inched closer to you and tilted his head down slightly to one side, his bright eyes catching yours. “Hey…”

The softness of his voice paired with the beauty of his eyes were a lot for you to handle, and suddenly you didn’t trust yourself to resist him anymore. Your gaze softened at him, looking up at him with a tender gleam of hope not unlike what you felt when you first met him.

“Can I start over?” Steb asked you.

The chilly air began to blow stronger, ruffling the trees around the courtyard. You replied in a soft chuckle and playfully rolled your eyes, gazing out at the courtyard filled with elderly folks enjoying the day.

“We’re supposed to be on duty,” you said.

“Yes, but I’ve seen enough of this place to know the only person we should worry about getting in trouble is sitting up on the porch having a cup of tea,” he said as his eyes looked over at Granny Evelyn, who sat on a rocking chair smiling far away from you both. “I think it’ll be fine.”

With a soft laugh, you tore your gaze from the courtyard and looked at Steb, raised a brow at him, and shook your head smiling.

“I can’t believe you,” your eyes sparkled at him. “Fine, you may start over.”

Steb smiled at you, looking more handsome than you ever thought possible, and slowly he moved closer to you, meeting your gaze with flirtatious eyes.

“Hi,” was all he needed to say for you to know you were done for.

You laughed, bewildered at the power this Vastaya held over you, and at the fact that you had tried to push him away when it was clear that what was happening at that moment was all you’d wanted.

“Hi,” you giggled in return, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

A strong gust of wind powered through your silhouettes, blowing your uniform hat right off your head for it to land on the wooden floor of the bridge. You and Steb both let out small exclamations of surprise, and he bent over to grab your hat for you. When he stood up straight and held it out for you to take, you noticed that the gust of wind had blown a single, dry, golden leaf onto Steb’s shoulder. You looked up at him, loving how he still stood out incredibly in that autumn landscape, and you both smiled softly at each other. Before you took your hat, you reached your hand up to Steb’s shoulder and you gently took the leaf that had landed on him, casting it aside as delicately as it had fallen. But after the leaf was gone, your hand lingered on his shoulder, and tension built between you as you both remained there. Your smile had faded into the nerves that came with being so close to him in such a lovely setting, but it returned to your lips when Steb smiled back at you and his gaze softened in adoration.

You stopped thinking and let your hands guide you through the moment. You pressed your palm onto his shoulder and let it travel to the crook of his neck, and you pulled Steb down closer to you, perking on your toes, and you shyly kissed his lips. You basked in how smooth his skin was under your fingertips and how warm he was, and before you exploded into nerves, you heard your hat dropping onto the bridge floor, feeling both of Steb’s hands cupping your face, gently yet firmly, as he kissed you back. The shyness fled from you, and you kissed Steb more securely when you felt him reciprocate, sliding your arms around his shoulders and pressing your body to him—you didn’t give a Yordle’s mitten if anyone was watching or muttering about you, or if you were on duty. All that mattered was that, as you kissed him, you felt Steb smiling into your lips and his hands traveling down around your waist.

Your mind exploded in fireworks the longer you two kissed, and your thoughts jumped from possibility to possibility; all the firsts you could have with him, all the places you could hold his hand and all the ways you could explore his body and all the markings on his skin, but you knew that would come later, and at the moment you could delight fully in the feeling of him kissing you. Yes, you were absolutely smitten, and you were looking forward to much, much more of that.

From the porch, you and Steb were being watched with a warm smile. Evelyn McCawley had seen a lot in her lifetime, and each experience had taught her to view life with the wonder a child would have. Her eyes could no longer spot a butterfly from afar, but she could see you and Steb finally getting along all too well, and a smile lit her features in hope and subtle heartbreak. Seeing the two of you in uniform sharing a loving moment reminded her of when she was a young nurse charmed by a handsome soldier—she saw her and her beloved in the two of you. And with that same smile, Granny Evelyn pulled a wrinkled picture from the pocket of her purple knit sweater, gazing at the eyes that looked upon her from beyond.

“Young love, eh, Rafe?” She chuckled. “I hope those two have what you and I had, and I sure hope they have the chance to see each other through to the end. I do miss you, dearie.”

Granny Evelyn then put the picture back in the pocket over her heart, and she stood up from her chair, setting her tea on the little table beside it, pondering on what mischief she could possibly do now to bring you and Steb ever closer.

If you like this, please reblog too! Thank you for reading!

Read part II here >

[superhoeva]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘: 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

main masterlist | series masterlist | tag

⬩ pairing(s) gomez inspired!simon "ghost" riley x morticia inspired!fem!reader

⬩ warning(s) sabrina carpenter (heavily mentioned), violence (mentioned), guns (mentioned), the kids having a blast, humor (i hope!), confused!dad!simon, mom!reader

⬩ author's note hi my loves! simon and wifey having a night in is still in progress but i still wanted to write something for the rileys! as a sabrina carpenter fan, i absolutely love this one and i hope you do as well. thank you for all of the love on the two fics released so far! much more to come! <3 (lovely divider is by @wethairjoel)

⬩ word count 0.4k

Something… odd is coming from the living room. Upbeat. Annoyingly familiar and Simon’s blood starts to itch when he can’t place it. The man gives in with a mix of a grunt and sigh, easing into the room with furrowed eyebrows.

Simon has to pause at the sight he’s met with. A blast of bright pop music smacks him in the face. As does the way Reaper bounces in a happy dance around his sister, who’s completely enamored by the television screen. A summery music video plays–filled with swimsuits and umbrellas and too much orange for Simon to appreciate.

“Little Devils?”

Reaper answers without pausing his jumping.

“Yes, Papa?”

“What’s this now?”

“A new song we like. Isn’t it nice, Papa?”

Simon thinks for a moment, tongue sliding across the inside of his cheek. “Well, she’s very… blonde.”

“You’re blonde, Papa,” Raven reminds him, and Simon would laugh if it wasn’t for the repetitive melody sounding over and over again.

“Who showed ya this, anyway?”

“Mama.”

Oh, alright. You showed them this–wait… what? You? His beautiful, brooding wife?

“They were talking about her at school, too. She’s very pretty… but not as pretty as Mama.”

Another hm is all Simon can hum in agreement. His eyes trail back to his son, to his daughter, then back to his son again. With the way he’s moving, he’ll sleep just fine tonight.

Simon flicks back to the telly. What is this woman even talking about?

“Wha' is she even talkin’ about, lovies?”

Reaper answers his father, out of breath but still moving. “‘Bout how she has to work late.”

“Why’s she workin’ late?”

“‘Cause she’s a singer,” Raven replies this time, not even noticing how she sings the response. Bloody hell… as long as they’re having fun, he guesses.

Simon finds you in your office, expression scarily similar to Raven’s as you stare at your computer screen. Entranced by the same woman his children are listening to just down the hall.

“You too, pretty?”

You nuzzle against the tender hand he places on your shoulder, Simon warming and pressing a kiss on your head at the affection. “She’s actually quite interesting, my love. Watch…”

Simon sighs but obeys, eyes focusing on where your laptop plays a music video. Very different from the one Raven and Reaper are enjoying. This has knives and blood and shotguns and injury. All of which forces a tilt of the head from Simon.

“This is…” your husband trails off, unable to find the words. “'S quite nice.”

“It’s magnificent,” you mumble, transfixed at how Sabrina Carpenter looks with a wooden fence sticking through her middle. “They’re magnificent.”

Funny enough, Simon is the one who rewinds the video as soon as it’s ending, tapping you to stand so he can take your seat and pull you onto his lap. Arms wrapped around your middle and chin settled on your shoulder. Eyes blazing with delight at the viciousness of the video.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[newkatzkafe2023]

HAHAHA SORRY, I WAS PUT IN SPANISH BY MISTAKE

Hello, may I ask what it would be like for Wukong to see all his descendants he had with the reader (i.e. his grandchildren) being equally chaotic or worse (sorry for sending too much ^^)

I love family reunions especially with a bunch of immortals monkeys🥳 also don't be sorry

(Lmk Wukong) The family would come over every year with many kinds of movies for everyone to watch, from action, horror, comedy, animation, sci-fi, live action and even a couple of guilty pleasure kids movies we tend to watch as adults😅. Anyway, Wukong enjoys the food and drinks the kids and grandchildren would bring over even Mk, Mei, and Redson would join the reunion as you both always considered the traffic light trio as family. Wukong would always enjoy the growing love and Chaos of his whole growing family 😊

(NR Wukong) Having you and your husband's descendants over is always full of love and Chaos. Every family reunion you guys ever had would quickly become a Party Rave that would last for a good week at best. I'm seriously It's no surprise considering Wukong was always found at a club our drinking alcohol, but your kids and grandkids knew how to throw down and they bring their own food and booze along with Playlist and stories. You all would party till the end of the night 🥳 unfortunately you guys Keep Li, Su and the whole city awake at damn week.

(HIB Wukong) Large Picnic Reunion with all the Monkey King generation. Wukong is always happy to have the family over, especially Luier and Silly girl's own families come over. It's also becomes a large fish fry as many family members would share interesting stories with each other and share tea and other drinks. You always admired your generational family and all your children you had with Wukong, as he would sit and listen to his grand cubs many questions Luier used to ask him all those years ago.

(MKR Wukong) GLADEATOR THEMED FIGHT ARENA EVERYBODY😈😈😈!!!!!!!! You and Wukong would entertain your relatives by having sparring matches with each other. You cubs would spar each other for fun as well, even some of your grandchildren join the fun, as everyone gets to burn off their aggression and energy. Even fruity would come to greet all of his siblings, i also imagine he would be much bigger, especially knowing how to use his Chi energy better. Either way everyone enjoys each other's company and is always glad to see each other.

(Netflix Wukong) SPA DAY!!!!!! that's what your reunion is all about. It became a giant sleepover where your whole extended family would sit around and do each others makeup and fur, and gossip about anything and everything in life. Wukong would of course brag about himself to his grandchildren, along to new his in-laws and even to the children you both had together who grew up listening to him talk and tell stories. All jokes aside, Wukong would never have to deal with loneliness ever again as he had you, Lin, dragon king, and his ever so growing family 😊

(BMW Wukong) Dinner and a show is how you guys spend your family reunion, you guys would rent out a tavern where all of your relatives would come and meet up. You would listen to your husband brag about himself and his achievements to his children and grandchildren for the millionth time considering you guy's ever growing family. You also would have dinner and watch plays with each other and have rice wine together as you enjoy the company of your Humongous growing family.

(Destined one) You guys would have the world's largest family reunion potluck. Generations of your grandchildren and great grandchildren would come with every type of food know to man, especially if your kids married demons or humans of different cultures. It was always such a blast especially when The destined one gets overwhelmed by his grandchildren adorable mischief, it's one of the only times he truly smiles🥰

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[tori111777]

FRIGHT AND FURY

Parings: Caracalla x wife!reader

Warnings: mentions of violence

Summary: You confront your husband, the emperor of Rome, of his sickness.

You leaned back in your chair. The bracelets on your arm clanging loudly as you moved, showing off your riches with just such noise.

Your husband was right in front of you, yet his mind miles away. It was always away when the people in the coliseum roared as they saw a persons eye get gutted out of his head. He would howl with them as well.

You did not care so much for this marriage was not out of love but Marcus. Dare not ever call him that, Caracalla has been different these past moons.

So there you were, starring intensely at your husband back trying to figure him out.

…

“More food, my lady?” A servant came up with a tray of grapes, all laid out neatly with additional touches of green that was obviously there for decoration purposes.

You didn’t say anything and put up your hand and shooed him away, you were occupied anyways as Caracalla finally sat back down next to you.

He smacked his chair and gave a chuckle, “did you see that?” “I did.” You said plainly, looking straight ahead. He frowned, “you don’t seem excited by that?” You turned your head to him finally, looking into his eyes. You tried to seem something there but there wasn’t.

“No, I have just seen better battles.”

He scooted back more into his chair, trying to get comfortable in his seat. “You’re right.” He agreed with you, “It has only just begun though, don’t fret my dear.”

Your eyes drew back to the sandy arena floor, dust flying up as people tried to dodge other attacks. The clink of metal on metal and the blood dowsing in the sun, it gave you no entertainment as it did to him. It happened so often, how are they not bored of it?

Your fingers absentmindedly tapped against the armrest, the cold clink of your bracelets and rings brought you back.

“You seem bored.” Caracalla frowned at you. You didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch between each other. Shifted in your seat, eyeing him once more, his posture relaxed, yet his eyes gleamed with a hunger you never quite understood.

“I suppose I am.” Playing with your rings as you let out a sigh. “Caracalla's gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he gave a short laugh. "You always were different. I suppose as well.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "You don't care for the blood, do you?"

Your head turned as well to meet him again. You two were very close now and his eyes flickered between your lips and eyes, the heat of his breath on your skin.

The crowd went up again and his brother, Geta started to shout ferociously, almost as if he was fighting them down there as well. The sound broke you two apart.

His smile didn’t falter as he straightened in his chair, but there was something in his gaze—something that made the hair on the back of your neck stand. "You don't like the blood," he repeated, quieter now, as if testing something. Noticing him slowly disappearing more and more into his mind.

"You know, it's not the blood," you replied, your voice low and deliberate, "It's what comes after it."

He definitely heard you but decided not to pay attention to you anymore and decided to lean against the railing watching the show below unfold.

———

You did not see your husband, Caracalla until later that night, long after the sun had set and the games were done for the day. The moon shining bright and cooling everyone of the hot day in Rome.

Back in your chamber with the windows open. The wind blowing through your silk gown right in the moonlight’s direction. Looking out into the beautiful streets and hearing bells ring and children laughing. It was the only peaceful part of the day you would get.

Nor did you care when you heard footsteps enter into the room. "Are you still angry?" Caracalla voice was low, tinged with amusement, though you could tell he was testing the waters.

Your head tilted a bit and your eyes lingered on the marble floor. “I never was.” Keeping your voice quiet and steady. For a moment, he said nothing, only watching you. His usual presence was like a shadow, but tonight it felt like he wasn’t even there.

"You always do this," Caracalla’s voice broke the stillness, soft but tinged with something darker. He had moved closer now, though still keeping a careful distance, as if measuring the space between you both. "You retreat into silence like a stranger in your own home. You’ve always been so... aloof. Cold, even."

You wanted to scoff at him. To throw the vase on the table at him. You knew better than this though, you’ve played this game your whole life. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing your emotions. "I don’t retreat, Caracalla," you replied, your voice calm, though it held a trace of something sharper beneath it. “Something seems off with you these days, I fear.” You held your hands close to your chest for some comfort.

He breath became fast and he narrowed his eyebrows for a second. “Is this why you can’t look at me?” He raised his voice higher yet you did not flinch one bit.

“No.” You said.

He stepped closer to you to talk quietly yet anger was still in his body, it has always been there, a whisper in the night air. "Then what is it? What do you see when you look at me?"

You shifted slightly, the silk of your gown rippling with the motion, "I see a man who has everything, yet still wants more," you said softly, the words as sharp as the cold marble beneath your feet.

Caracalla paused, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, the silence between you both growing heavy. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might lash out, the fury in him barely contained. Yet, he remained still, his lips pressed tight together as he absorbed your words.

"You always were good with words," he muttered, you stood unmoving, your back to the open window, the cool night air sweeping through the room as the distant sounds of Rome's nightlife echoed faintly in the background. The weight of his gaze was palpable, as though it was trying to break through the carefully constructed walls you had built between you and him.

"What do you want, Caracalla?" You said those words very loudly. You weren’t afraid speaking out against him. “You are not yourself these days, you are restless in your sleep and crave blood more than ever…”

He looked down at the ground and almost began to shout. “It is my brother! He blames me for everything I’ve ever done!” His voice pleased and aching. You’ve seen him like this before, but never this serious. Yet, you don’t believe he’s telling the full truth, or at least he knows the full truth.

You drop your hands to your side and step close to him, your silhouette leaving the silver moonlight that touched you. You brush your hand into his hair and look at him, holding his head. Your rings felt cold against his skin but he did not mind it.

“You are the emperor.” You spoke softly, trying to calm him down. He had always been out there but you’ve always yet had a soft heart and it aches for him right now.

His eyes were stinging from holding back tears yet he did not shed any. He did not speak for he did not seem weak but he has a sickness of the mind and you knew it, Geta knew it, the senate knew it and damn that monkey probably knew it as well. You just kept denying it and he does not see it.

“It’s not enough. It will never be enough.” He whispered and turned his head to break away from your hands. Leaving the cold air to touch them again. Maybe you should’ve kept that window closed.

[kiragecko]

So, it's the early 2000s. I'm hanging out with the first friend I've managed to make in half a decade, my now-husband. We're both trying to make good impressions, because friendship is hard! Now-Husband does this through the evergreen autistic method of 'let's share my special interest'.

(I would later do the exact same thing, slightly more successfully, with the Discworld books. This can be a good method!)

He does have enough social awareness to realize that sticking me in front of the Final Fantasy VII video game will not work. But, Advent Children is a MOVIE! He can share THAT with me!

-

Now, a more social aware person might ask themselves (and maybe even me) some questions first. Questions like:

Has Gecko ever played a video game?

(Answer: Yes, I have played parts of Super Mario World and two Donkey Kong Countries! Also, a snakey Tetris clone?)

Has Gecko ever watched an anime?

(Answer: No.)

Has Gecko ever had ANY interaction with Japanese bullshit, and it's differences from English bullshit?

(Answer: I have read one manga at this point, W Juliet.)

Does Gecko even know what an RPG IS?

(Answer: No. If the acronym was expanded I would think you were talking about D&D.)

Can Gecko watch things with subtitles?

(Answer: Unknown, but I'm about to find out!)

Does Gecko actually enjoy movies?

(Answer: At the time, I would have said yes. I had been taught to ignore a lot of pain back then, and didn't realize they were sensory nightmares.)

Is this movie a good fic for newcomers to the franchise?

(Answer: Unhinged laughter.)

-

We watched Advent Children.

-

The saving grace of this experience was that Now-Husband LIKES explaining stuff! He got to explain a LOT of stuff. And it was VERY interesting to watch someone try to figure out how to explain,

"Your guess might technically be correct for this movie, but it wasn't that way in the game! ... I don't think. And it's not what I think they're trying to imply! ... It might actually be a plot hole. Or maybe we just missed something with the bad lighting? But also, I'm realizing, in real time, how many of my interpretations are actually fanon and I'm questioning everything!"

And there was a pseudo-vampire. I will never get over Vincent. Every moment of Vincent was overdramatic, trying-to-hard-to-be-cool BULLSHIT. I loved it! Vincent was very easy to understand!

-

The plot of Advent Children, according to Gecko:

The main(?) characters are in a flower church and Aerith glows and rises into the air in a clear death metaphor. Or maybe actually dies? (I was mostly scared all the stained glass would break.)

Cloud and his Large Sword fights the One Winged Angel Music Guy multiple times. Reasons unclear.

FAKE VAMPIRE SHOWS UP AND THINKS HE'S SO COOL! HA HA! I LOVE THE DUMB FAKE VAMPIRE. LOOK AT HIM POSE!

I definitely saw Tifa and Barrett at some point, but I don't even have memories of thinking, "Oh, he is a DADDY! THERE IS A CUTE KID!" So they failed big time, there.

The End.

[jacki567]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗠𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝘆 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙍𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙧𝙖 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙚𝙣 “𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣-𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙” 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙔/𝙣 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙚𝙣, “𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣’𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩”

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘!𝙍𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙧𝙖 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Ever since she was a but a young girl, Rhaenyra had wanted nothing more than to have a little sister.

Growing up, the sight of her mother confined to her bed, her stomach swelling with each passing moon was a common sight. Since she was old enough to realise what was happening, Rhaenyra swore that every babe her mother carried was going to be the sister she so desperately desired. She never understood why people would laugh, why they would give her father a shake of their heads, and yet when they spoke of her having a brother nothing but pride was seen on their faces, a nod instead of a shake. She wouldn't understand until she was older, and the reasoning angered her to no end.

However, Queen Aemma Arryn would never be able to give Rhaenyra the sister she so desperately wanted, and she would never be able to watch her only surviving child grow and have children of her own.

Since the day of her mother's funeral, Rhaenyra swore that she wanted no children of her own. But she was her father's heir now, and she realised that one day she would need an heir of her own. Her thoughts went to Daemon, thinking by the time she was crowned Queen that he would have a child that she could name as her heir. If her own cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn, could do so, then so could she.

However, Rhaenyra wasn't granted that wish. In order to keep Otto Hightower away from the Keep, to put an end to his schemes and to send him back to Oldtown, Rhaenyra had to marry... and who better than her cousin, Ser Laenor, who held no attraction to her or to any other woman. This had been a good thing at the beginning of their marriage, but Rhaenyra soon heard the whispers spreading throughout the Keep.

'Perhaps she is barren.'

'If she can't even produce an heir, how can we expect her to ascend the throne one day?'

'It won't be long before the King names Prince Aegon as his successor.'

Rhaenyra knew that she needed an heir of her own to keep her inheritance. Laenor was a kind man who treated Rhaenyra with nothing but respect, but he never desired her. His true desires lay with men, and no matter how many times they had tried to conceive their heir, none had been successful.

And soon, Rhaenyra had to take drastic matters.

The Princess was an incredibly observant woman and she was well aware that Ser Harwin Strong had been quite enamoured with her since her... stunt at Prince Aegon's second name-day. Rhaenyra sought Harwin out and after some time spent together, both gave into their desires. It had been a relationship of convenience in the beginning, but Rhaenyra soon found herself developing feelings for Harwin. He was kind to her, caring and incredibly loving. He was everything she wished for in a husband.

It didn't take long for Rhaenyra to notice that her monthly blood hadn't arrived.

She was with child, and the fear hit her.

-

Nothing could’ve prepared her for the sudden changes in her body, the flurry of emotions ( both good and bad ), and the nausea that came during the first few moons. Seeing her mother going through these changes was one thing, but experiencing them yourself was completely different. Laenor had been by her side during every step of the way, proving himself to be a devoted husband, someone who truly cared for her wellbeing. The days had been long and difficult, but with men as kind and caring as Laenor and Harwin surrounding her, her first pregnancy went by quicker than she ever could've imagined.

And soon enough, Rhaenyra was able to hold her firstborn child in her arms; a daughter.

Since the moment her daughter had been placed into her arms, Rhaenyra went silent. The room was full of noise, but all of her attention was on her beautiful babe. Y/n was a quiet babe, with a head of brown curls, soft chubby cheeks, and her eyes were as lilac as the flowers in the garden. She was a beautiful babe, and Rhaenyra’s father, Viserys, couldn't help but to agree. No matter her appearance not being that of a typical Valyrian, King Viserys adored his granddaughter since the moment he saw her. Laenor had been full of shock when Y/n had been placed into his arms for the very first time, but his heart swole with love when her tiny fingers wrapped themselves around his pointer finger; he was a goner. And Ser Harwin... Harwin couldn't believe that he was the father to a beautiful baby girl. He was overjoyed, never passing up the chance to hold Y/n in his arms in the privacy of Rhaenyra's chambers. She was finally here, the very thing he had wished for so long.

Many believed that once Rhaenyra's second child was born, Jacaerys, that he would be named as heir, but Rhaenyra never faltered in her choice; Y/n would be her heir. Rhaenyra would teach her everything that she would ever need to know; from politics, to strategic thinking, even when doing her hair... she would teach Y/n everything. Y/n was hers. Hers to love, hers to keep and hers to treasure for all time.

It wasn't long until Princess Y/n Velaryon was given a name by the Small Folk; The Heir's Heart.

-

Years passed within the blink of an eye. King Viserys was now dead, Rhaenyra was now Queen, and Princess Y/n Velaryon, now Princess Y/N Targaryen, was Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne. Y/n stood closely by her mother at seven-and-ten name-days, her hand resting on the hilt of the dagger that was strapped to her side, a mannerism that reminded Rhaenyra very much of Daemon, who was now Y/n's step-father. Lucerys stood on Y/n's left hand side, nervously playing with a stray piece of thread that hung from Y/n's sleeve. None could see the action because Y/n had taken a protective stance in front of her younger brother.

Y/n bore an emotionless mask on her face as her mother agreed to send Jace and Luke as envoys, never considering to send her own heir to speak on her behalf. Yet, Y/n would never cause an outburst during the first Small Council meeting of her mother, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. However, Rhaenyra knew her daughter better than anyone and she was able to see the twitch of her lilac eyes, her pursed lips and tight expression; she wasn't happy.

Once the Small Council had been dismissed, Rhaenyra gestured for Y/n to follow her. Without a word, Y/n followed behind her mother, her hands clasped behind her back as her red and black dress flowed behind her. They came to a stop inside the library, a place of peace for Y/n.

Queen Rhaenyra looked at Y/n. "What troubles you, sweet girl?"" Rhaenyra's hand cupped Y/n's cheek just like she did when she was a child. "Tell your mother."

Y/n hated when she was upset with her mother, but she couldn't help but to feel this way.

"I am your heir, yet you send Jace and Luke to be your envoys, whilst I am to sit back and do nothing? In what world does that make sense, Mother? I am your heir, let me be your voice."

Rhaenyra's breath was caught in her throat. She knew that Y/n wasn't one to sit back whilst everyone else did work. Yet, Rhaenyra couldn't bring herself to include Y/n as being her envoy. Sending her sweet boys was bad enough, but to send her only surviving daughter into danger was a thought that Rhaenyra didn't wish to think.

"You are my heir, my successor," Rhaenyra's thumb stroked Y/n's cheekbone. "And that is why I need you here. If anything were to happen, the throne would pass to you."

Y/n stepped away, her features screwed up with frustration. "If I were a son, I would be sent out to be your envoy... just like Jace and Luke."

And she was correct, Rhaenyra couldn't deny that.

"Please, Y/n, I need you here with me," her eyes were full of a desperation for Y/n to listen to her. "You are my daughter, my heart. If something were to happen to you..."

Y/n looked to her mother, eyes wide. "Mother, I know you are scared. After losing V-Visenya," Rhaenyra's heart ached at the thought of her lost babe, "you couldn't bear to lose another, but you won't lose me."

Y/n took her mother's hands in her own, lilac eyes clashing with lilac eyes. "Let me be your voice. Let me defend your birthright."

Rhaenyra lowered her head, gripping onto Y/n's hands with all of her might. She would give her daughter the world if she asked, but Y/n was asking her to knowingly send her into danger, to put herself in harms way.

And, as if she could tell what her mother would say, Y/n interrupted her.

"You once said you'd give me anything I wished, and what I wish for is to advocate for my Queen. To fight for my mother's birthright," Y/n and Rhaenyra looked at once another. "Allow me to do so."

Rhaenyra was conflicted. From the doorway of the library stood Daemon. He gave her a brief nod, Y/n’s dedication to fight for Rhaenyra’s birthright was an admiration. Y/n would be a worthy asset to have. She was a dragon rider, her mount being the wild dragon Grey Ghost. She had been the very first to claim the elusive wild dragon, who was much like herself in many ways; both were quiet, yet fiercely loyal. The sight of the Queen’s heir, a woman that held the blood of the dragon, atop of the mysterious wild dragon, Grey Ghost, who none had managed to claim before should send the Queen’s enemies a message of the power that the Queen and her heir held.

The Green’s had Vhagar, but the Black’s had more dragons.

Ignoring the clenching of her heart, Rhaenyra but her lip and gave Y/n a curt nod. “If that is what you wish, then you shall fly to the Eyrie. You shall meet my cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn, and pass along my words. After, you shall fly to Highgarden to meet with Lady Tyrell. Her son is a mere child and she is the Regent. Connect with her, ally her to our side. Then you return to me.”

Y/n nodded. “As you wish, my Queen.”

-

Compared to the looming figure of Grey Ghost, Y/n seemed tiny compared to the giant beast. She had always been tall for her age, but when stood beside her bonded mount, it could make anyone realise just how young the Princess actually was. Whilst she held the eyes of her mother, the smile of her father, and many facial features from her Grandmother Aemma, Y/n was but a girl of seven-and-ten name-days.

She hadn’t been able to see the wonders the world had to offer, and Rhaenyra swore to herself that when her throne was won, Y/n would know every corner of the Kingdom that she would one day rule.

“You’re worried,” Y/n stated as she threw a fish into the open jaws of Grey Ghost, who swallowed the large fish in one bite. “The Eyrie isn’t far, Mother. Lady Jeyne is family, your cousin.”

Rhaenyra stepped forward. “And Aegon is my brother, your uncle. Would he welcome you with open arms?”

Y/n chewed her bottom lip, knowing that her mother was correct. If she were to ever step foot into the Keep at this moment, she would be imprisoned, possibly killed in order to eliminate the threat to Aegon’s “rule”.

Y/n looked to her mother who held herself like a ruler would, but the worry of being a mother were beginning to shine through. Jacaerys had been adamant that he would be fine and, whilst still cautious, Rhaenyra had accepted that. However, with Luke and Y/n… they were her sweethearts. So much like their Grandmother, yet so much like herself at the same time. Seeing them leave… it was something she hadn’t been able to prepare herself for.

“You must understand, I am your mother, first and foremost, Y/n. I always will be. A mother is granted the ability to worry endlessly for her children.”

Y/n smiled softly. “And a mother’s children are granted the ability to defend their mother’s birthright.”

The laugh that escaped Rhaenyra’s lips couldn’t be stopped. In this very moment it was as if Rhaenyra was staring at her teenage self, only this reflection held brown hair.

“I suppose you are correct,” Rhaenyra stepped closer, knowing that Grey Ghost would not harm her. “Even as a child, you always stood for what you believe in. Jace and Luke were more quiet, but if anyone dared speak ill of myself, your brothers, even your Grandsire…” she chuckled. “The blood of the dragon really shone through.”

Y/n reached forward and squeezed Rhaenyra’s hands, feeling two pieces of parchment in her left hand as she did. She looked down at the letters and saw the official seal of House Targaryen stamped upon it.

“For you to deliver to Lady Jeyne and Lady Tyrell,” Rhaenyra spoke, falling into the role of Queen. “I hope Jeyne sees my mother in you and it reminds her of an oath she once swore,” and the other letter. “And for Lady Tyrell. She is a mysterious woman, but I do hope you could find common ground.”

Behind Y/n, Jace and Luke emerged with their dragons in tow, Vermax and Arrax. Her brothers were awaiting Y/n to join them, wanting to fly together for as far as they could with their Grandmother Rhaenys before parting ways; Jace to the North, Rhaenys to patrol the Gullet, Luke to Storms End and Y/n to the Vale and the Reach.

“I will return with the support of House Arryn and House Tyrell,” Y/n held her head high. “I swear it.”

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen looked between her three eldest children with nothing but love and pride filling her heart. She gave them a nod, addressing them all.

“You shall go as envoys, not as warriors. I want you to swear this to me… not as your mother but as your Queen.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Y/n, Jace and Luke swore to their mother. They would not wield a sword, only the words of the true and rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Rhaenyra mustered up a small smile. “Now, off to it.”

Jace climbed atop of Vermax, strapping his legs into the saddle. Both Luke and Y/n stood by their dragons, but they couldn’t help but to turn back and look at their mother with nervousness in their eyes. No matter how much she wished to go, to prove herself as a worthy heir, Y/n was nervous that she wouldn’t return home or even worse, that her brothers wouldn’t return home.

“Come back to me,” Rhaenyra told her children. “No matter of support, return to me safely.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Queen Rhaenyra watched as Luke and Y/n climbed atop of Arrax and Grey Ghost, strapping themselves into their saddles like Jace had done moments before. Wearing three matching cloaks of blood red, the three eldest children of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen rose to the skies on their dragons, unsure of what was to come, but knowing they would do anything to gain support for their mother’s claim.

-

The flight to the Eyrie wasn’t a long one, and Grey Ghost circled the mountain the castle was located on. From below, Y/n heard the yells of the guards, the panic in their voices as they saw a dragon circling the Vale. Grey Ghost swooped down towards the courtyard of the Eyrie, and Y/n saw many guards with hands on the swords and archers with arrows ready to be released. Grey Ghost landed in the courtyard with a thud, his roar echoing throughout the mountains of the Vale.

Lady Jeyne had recognised Y/n immediately. She had last seen the Princess when she was nine name-days old, but when she saw the face of Aemma Arryn staring back at her, it wasn’t hard to realise that this girl was the granddaughter of the Vale’s Queen.

Negotiations started as soon as Y/n entered the castle and many were agreeable terms. Jeyne would support Rhaenyra no matter what, but Jeyne needed protection for herself, for her home and for her people; dragons would suffice. And knowing that Joffrey’s dragon was already growing to quite the size, Y/n agreed. She would send word to her mother in due time that Joffrey was needed in the Vale where he would be kept safe.

Lady Jeyne insisted that Y/n stay and rest, and she agreed. The cousins feasted, told stories of their family, and none could remember a time when Lady Jeyne laughed so freely. Safe to say, it was a saddening sight to see Princess Y/n Targaryen leave the Vale upon her dragon, Grey Ghost.

-

The flight to Highgarden had been a longer flight, because Y/n had to be careful not to be seen by any Hightower soldiers or guards. This is when Grey Ghost’s certain attitude became useful as he was able to fly into the clouds, his grey scales blending into the clouds to keep himself and Y/n hidden to all below. They had stayed in the clouds until they reached the outer skirts of Highgarden, where Grey Ghost swooped down into the courtyard of House Tyrell.

“Dragon!”

Guards unsheathed their swords and pointed them at Y/n. Grey Ghost released a loud roar, baring his sharp teeth at the guards in defence of his rider.

“We are not here to harm you,” Y/n assured. “My name is Princess Y/n Targaryen, daughter of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. I have come to speak with Lady Tyrell.”

A woman walked into the courtyard, head held high. “And so you shall, Princess. Please, follow me.”

Y/n had been most nervous to meet with Lady Tyrell as they had nothing in common. One was a widow, one has never been married. One has a child, one has never even bedded a man. Yet, to everyone’s shock, Lady Tyrell took quite a liking to the young Princess.

“You remind me of my dear sister,” Lady Tyrell reminisced softly. “She passed many years ago, and you are how I imagine her.”

“I thank you for the comparison, my Lady. It’s an honour.”

Although Lady Tyrell had grown fond of Y/n, negotiations were tough. Lady Tyrell didn’t wish for her son to be put in any danger and Y/n couldn’t promise his everlasting safety. Negotiations went back and forth until a letter arrived at Highgarden.

Y/n recognised the seal, as Lady Tyrell opened the letter and read its contents. The woman’s eyes widened as she looked up at Y/n, her eyes holding sympathy and heartache. She held the letter out for Y/n to take and the Princess began to read the contents. She recognised the writing of her cousin, Baela, but her neat handwriting was now a scrawl, the page littered with damp spots throughout.

‘Lucerys… didn’t come home… Vhagar… Aemond… storm… Dead.’

Y/n didn’t realise that she was crying until Lady Tyrell crouched beside her and wiped away her tears with her thumb. Y/n held herself high but it was now that Lady Tyrell saw how young Y/n was; she was still just a child. Their negotiations may have been tough, but a man who chases a boy on a war dragon through a rough storm was no man she, nor her house, would ever follow.

“Return home, little dragon,” Lady Tyrell instructed. “You have my support. I await a raven from your Mother instructing the war for her reign.”

-

Y/n had just lost Luke, she didn’t expect to lose Jace so soon afterwards. It was supposed to have been her to fly above the Gullet to ensure the safety of their younger brothers, Aegon and Viserys, but Jace insisted that he was more than capable. Y/n trusted Jace… Why did she have to trust him?

Her mother wasn’t the same anymore. She never smiled, her eyes were dull, she rarely ever ate and her words were full of a rage that Y/n had never heard before.

“It should’ve been me up there, Baela,” Y/n whispered to Baela. “Why was he so stubborn? Why did I let him go?”

Baela turned to Y/n, eyes full of heartbreak. “Jace would’ve went anyways. He couldn’t protect Luke, so he wanted to protect you, Aegon, and Viserys.”

Y/n scoffed bitterly. “And I failed in protecting them both. I am the elder sibling! I should’ve protected them both, and I failed in that! And now Viserys is missing, most likely dead! Because of my idiocy!”

And just like her mother, Y/n turned into a person than none recognised. And this only brought her further into madness when the death of her younger brother, Joffrey reached her ears.

Fell from Syrax.

Broken from the fall.

Still breathing whilst the Small Folk tore him apart!

Y/n couldn’t find anymore sadness within her, only rage. What was stopping her from burning Kings Landing to the ground?

One person.

“We shall get our revenge,” Rhaenyra assured her daughter, eyes full of nothingness. “With Fire and Blood.”

-

Y/n had heard rumours that Aegon the Usurper now resided on Dragonstone… the very place that Y/n told Rhaenyra to run to. After the storming of the Dragonpit, many dragons were lost including the Queen’s own dragon, Syrax. With no money for safe passage, Rhaenyra was forced to sell her crown in order to protect herself and Aegon, her last remaining son.

Y/n had stayed behind in order to take revenge on those who had killed Joffrey, to those who had killed innocent dragons. She wasn’t known as, ‘The 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣’𝙨 Heart’ anymore.

She was known as, ‘The Queens Executioner’.

Yet, as she was about to feed a man to Grey Ghost, he yelled as loudly as he could.

“Aegon is on Dragonstone! He plans to murder your Mother! To murder your brother!”

Y/n grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair, bringing his head closer to hers, her lips pressed against his ear.

“Your lies won’t prevent your death.”

With that, Grey Ghost’s jaws clamped down around the man, swallowing him whole. Yet, Y/n couldn’t help but feel as if his words rang true. She felt as if her mother was in trouble. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she ignored this feeling and it resulted in the death of her mother and last remaining brother.

Y/n jumped atop Grey Ghost and commanded him to fly to Dragonstone. Grey Ghost had never flown faster, feeling the urgency of his rider made him go even faster towards their home. It didn’t take long until they arrived and Y/n was able to see a broken and twisted Sunfyre in the courtyard, an equally as broken Aegon beside him.

“MY DAUGHTER SHALL BRING THE HELLS TO YOU, HALF-BROTHER! SHE WILL AVENGE US!”

Aegon laughed cruelly. “I need not fear that bastard. She’s a woman, what can she do?”

With a rage like no other, Y/n’s voice made everyone look up. Grey Ghost opened his jaws and orange flames shot out, burning Aegon’s supporters alive. Y/n was about to command Grey Ghost to kill more, but she saw Sunfyre inch towards her mother, an orange hue building at the back of his throat.

“I won’t lose you, too.”

With that, Y/n released the straps from the saddle and she jumped off of Grey Ghost. She fell from the sky, landing on the ground before her mother.

“Y/N!” Rhaenyra yelled in horror.

Y/n looked to her, smiling for the first time in many moons. “I love you.”

With that, Y/n shoved Rhaenyra out of the way and Sunfyre clamped his jaws around her. Y/n had never felt pain like this before, as Sunfyre bit down on her over and over again. She thought her pain would never end, until she saw an orange hue build at the back of his throat. With one last look at her mother, Y/n smiled tearfully as she looked towards the sky, watching as Grey Ghost roared in agony, unable to reach his rider before the fire engulfed her body.

-

After the death of Princess Y/n Targaryen, Queen Rhaenyra was the undisputed ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, she was never the same as she once was. She may have found Viserys, but she had lost her babies. Her sweet, sweet, boys and her darling daughter, all whom sacrificed themselves for her.

What kind of mother outlives her children?

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen didn’t rule for long. Broken by the heartache of losing her four eldest children, the Queen died in her sleep. Many say she died of a broken heart, mourning her children that she never got to see grow old, to see them have children of their own.

She was known throughout history as, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen “The Broken-Hearted”.

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate .

Mine and yours.

Yan! Ishakan x reader

(Special Chapter)

Warning : Mature content! Before you read this, make sure you are old enough, children and minors are prohibited from reading this story chapter.

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word count : 2.86K word

Hello, this is Neva, at your service. So glad all Ishakan series are complete. This is a special chapter that I updated especially for Tumblr readers who may not have WP. Because I'm sure some of my dears may not have WP. So, this is a special chapter for Ishakan series. Next project wss supranaturals series. A monsters, i hope you all will like it this project as well:)

I added some POV characters here, which I didn't write in the WP special chapter. So, enjoy, my dears, lots of love- Neva🦋🦋 .

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

Kurkans Mate Pt. 1

Kurkans Mate Pt. 2

Kurkans Mate Pt. 3

Kurkans Mate Pt. 4

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Ishakan stared at you full of love and lust, but he had to restrain himself!.

Leading you slowly towards the sofa that had a small table, gently pouring a typical Kurkans drink, 1 glass. Ishakan drank it first, then he gave it to you, he could feel you were hesitant to drink it! .

Ohh how cute his wife is! So innocent and gentle! Never even drank wine!.

You spent that night talking to Ishakan, to understand each other, to be open to each other because you are husband and wife now.

Ishakan even apologized to you, he didn't mean to kidnap or hurt Esmera, but his beast instinct said otherwise, Ishakan had even renovated Esmera's hut, even Esmera came to the wedding!.

Even though you didn't meet, Esmera did come to see in the form of an owl, happy at least you were safe in the hands of the Kurkans, Esmera had been watching from afar, anticipating that if the Kurkans treated you badly, then she would take you back by force.

It turns out that Ishakan is not as bad as you thought, he is an understanding man, he doesn't care whether you can get pregnant or not, because Ishakan brought you into his life to love you and spend his life until old age waiting as his partner, his wife.

With a position facing each other you are currently on the balcony.

Ishakan looks at you lovingly, the moon is full in the sky, his heart is beating fast.

Ishakan cups your cheeks with his hands, stroking them gently with his thumbs.

"You are my world, I will never be afraid of losing or fear, as long as you are by my side and live together by my side until the end of my life, my Mate, I love you"

Tilted his head slowly, Ishakan kissed you, crushed it gently, carefully, the sound of your kisses filled the bedroom balcony.

Ishakan's hand easily pulled you to his side closer, deepening your kiss, eroding the distance between you, one of his hands was around your nape, his lips and tongue were busy tasting your lips and tongue, taking notes of every content of your mouth.

His other hand was on your waist, stroking and squeezing softly making you moan softly, only making him more aroused.

With one movement of his hand, Ishakan lifted and carried you into the room without breaking the kiss between the two of you.

Dropping you gently, Ishakan saw you under him, panting, face red and out of breath, lips swollen from his kiss.

Opening his wedding dress, showing his chest and body that were perfect for a king.

Ishakan kissed you again, biting your lower lip softly, making you moan softly, his tongue dancing and claiming yours.

His hands did not stay still, placing both of your hands above your head held with one of his left hands, his right hand, moving to stroke from your cheeks, neck, collarbone, the center line between your chest.

Teasingly stroking the line of your stomach that made you moan softly. smirking softly, knowing that you were sensitive all over your body, his hands went down to the lower part of your body.

Pulling up your red dress slowly, showing your legs and thighs, pulling them straight with his hands, kissing your ankles softly.

Lowering himself from the ankles to along the knees, biting your thighs, your knees leaning on his shoulders, leaving bite marks on your soft thighs, Ishakan got closer, until he was right in front of your core, wet and full of the scent of passion!

He had to hold himself back, it wasn't time for him to be brutal, not yet.

Pulling with his two fingers, Ishakan sensually opened your panties, showing your core completely without any clothes on there.

You who are embarrassed try to cover it! But unfortunately Ishakan holds both your hands.

Spreading your legs, your face turns red with embarrassment.

Looking at you, Ishakan just smirks and breathes into your core, which makes you sigh stifled.

Sticking out his tongue, Ishakan tastes your core, which makes you sigh unable to hold back anymore, you are very sensitive just from his kiss before, you have never felt anything like this!

Ishakan's tongue moves skillfully, from the middle to the core of your clit, sucking, licking, feeling, even widening your core.

You can't think clearly just your tongue but it has made you lose your mind.

Your hand that Ishakan has released, is around his hair, sighing, gasping for breath, Ishakan's other hand also doesn't stay still, his hand is busy scooping, squeezing, playing with your right chest, tearing with just one pull of your top dress.

Making you naked showing your chest, his hands are busy twisting and squeezing.

Your moans are getting louder indicating that you will come soon.

When you are about to come, Ishakan replaces it with his finger, making you increasingly losing his mind and moaning more and more.

"Take it out honey, come on, you can, smear my finger with your essence loves, come on my rabbit~"

Pulling and inserting his finger quickly, you come for the first time in your life!

Moaning almost screaming, eyes unable to open wide, biting your lower lip slowly.

For Ishakan this sight is very beautiful, very sexy and exciting, only him, only Ishakan can make you like this.

Growling primally, Ishakan forcibly pulls your lower dress, making you naked, so exposed to his eyes.

Ishakan then brings his finger filled with your love fluid to his mouth, sucking and tasting it.

You who stare at it can only be embarrassed, he looks at you with full primal!.

Your legs are spread wide, Ishakan opens his pants.

He's big, very big! Does it even fit?!.

"Isha... it doesn't seem to fit... this is my first time"

Ishakan just laughed in amusement seeing your worried expression, kissing your lips softly, Ishakan distracted your thoughts.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be okay"

His kiss went down to your neck, sucking and biting it on the right and left, leaving love bite marks on your neck.

His kiss went down to your shoulder, biting gently then to your collarbone, then to your chest, kissing gently, then putting your nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily, his other hand didn't stay still, giving the same attention to your chest that he sucked, his fingers twisting, pulling and squeezing your chest.

Moaning was the only thing you could do because of Ishakan's actions on your body.

Ishakan's hand then went down to spread your legs, with a gentle push, inserting himself, uniting with you.

You who were doing it for the first time, of course screamed in pain considering Ishakan who was also very big. Ishakan kissed your lips and neck, to ease your pain. It worked.

Slowly, the sound in the room that the two of you would use in the future, was filled with the sound of love, passion, and lust. The sound of skin slapping was very clear, Ishakan's sighs, and growls blended with the atmosphere full of the first night.

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You're not sure how many hours or maybe days it's been? You can only be busy moaning, groaning and following Ishakan's direction.

While Ishakan? That man, your husband is busy moaning in your ear, moaning vulgarly and shamelessly in your ear.

His hands are busy playing with your breasts and hips, while his own hips? Busy moving back and forth, the point is entering your core.

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Those 5 days, you were slaughtered by Ishakan, unable to hold back anymore, on the 5th day, you fell unconscious, while Ishakan? That man just chuckled and cleaned your body.

It's just a matter of time for Ishakan, he will soon become a father, and so will you, become a mother.

Blood union Between the Antrabeth and Kurkans tribes, two tribes that are above the other races.

This is not a dark or light story, but this story is about how Ishakan, can convince his partner, even by kidnapping which for some people is an abnormality, but this is the Kurkans we are talking about, normality never exists in that tribe.

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'The sound of a closed book'

In the garden a woman with blue hair, sits in a pavilion scattered with small fish ponds, with a pavilion podium studded with gold and high-quality wood, beautiful fabrics fall from each ceiling of the pavilion, creating a beautiful illusion, covering the outside view to see into the pavilion.

A small boy sits on the woman's lap, while a tall man is next to the woman holding a girl.

The woman had just read a story about "History Of Kurkans Mate"

"So how's the history? Are you not curious anymore again?"

The woman asked the two children who were of different genders, but with similar proportions, twins, the two children had the same blue hair as the woman, while their skin followed the color of the man sitting beside the woman.

The two twins just smiled and nodded before standing up and running to play with each other in the garden field right in front of the pavilion.

The man, put one arm around the woman's waist.

"The twins are big now, I think it's time we gave them a sibling, how about that my rabbit?"

Kissing the woman's cheek affectionately, while the Eve just blushed!.

"Ishakan?! Twins are only 7 years old! Not yet! I refuse!"

You've been together for more than 7 years, and the woman is you, you slap Ishakan's arm lightly, your husband.

"Oh my dear, it seems you have forgotten that, the Kurkans have never known the concept of refusing, the word no, refusal or disagreement"

Ishakan stood with you in his arms actually, bridal style! Those of you who are embarrassed, only can just cover your faces with your hands, you feel very embarrassed because the servants and bodyguards are looking at you.

In the Kurkans palace, a desert surrounded by a large oasis, the Kurkans Kingdom thrived under the leadership of King Ishakan Kurkans, the best king in the history of Kurkans, with his mate who was also the best in history, there was no slavery, discrimination, racism or rebellion. There is only peace, happiness from one end of the kingdom to the other end of the kingdom of Kurkans.

For people who have visited Ishakan Kingdom, there are only a few things that those who have been there will say.

"It feels like the kingdom is like a myth"

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On the other side of the desert continent of the Kurkans, there are several kingdoms that are also developing rapidly, one of which is the Estia kingdom.

Led directly by Queen Leah de Estia, a beautiful woman with a face like the moon. Anyone would fall in love seeing her so beautiful, perfect, almost like an angel falling from the sky.

One of the people who fell in love with her was none other than Leah's half brother. Bléon de Estia.

The man was crazy, of course , a sick and very twisted obsession. After the ambush and capture of the queen of Estia, Serdine.

Leah saw with her own eyes how Ishakan and some of the Estia courtiers burned Serdine. While Bléon, the man looked at Ishakan with envy. Nothing more and nothing less, thinking that Ishakan will take Leah from her.

Crazy about it, Bleon said to Ishakan.

"I have defiled the woman you are going to take, take her! Take the used goods that I have touched and play with them as you please, you savage monster!"

Right after the sentence was uttered, a head flew right in front of leah's eyes. Bléon's floating head flew and fell rolling and stopped right in front of her feet.

That night, Leah would never forget how Ishakan had saved her. And also the kingdom of Estia.

Leah sent a proposal, hoping that the kingdom of Estia and the Kurkans could become one.

But unfortunately, the proposal was rejected. Because it turned out that the king of the Kurkans himself already had someone to be proposed to.

On the wedding day of the king of the kurkans, where leah came as one of the honored guests, that's where she found out why ishakan rejected her proposal.

Herself as a woman if given the opportunity as a man, she might do the same thing as ishakan did. Kidnap that woman. For Leah, just by looking at her once she knew very well, the woman who was right in front of Ishakan, had made Ishakan, the barbarian kurkans, kneel. Very beautiful, small and fragile. Of course, Leah who did not have any special lines in her blood, more than knowing not to go any further to be with ishakan.

A woman from the Atrabeth tribe, the lover of nature. Of course leah knows for sure.

The two tribal myths are united in a soul bond.

For Leah, the story of Ishakan and the woman, the lover of nature from the Antrabeth tribe, felt very unreal.

As if they were just a myth.

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The End.

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[3rizu]

A Fool For You

Contents: Husband!Kwon Jae-Sung x Wife!Reader - Pregnant!Reader - mentions of cheating - ooc

Word Count: 626

A/N: I would marry him in heartbeat

You looked at the time waiting for your husband to come back home, although Kwon was quite busy taking care of his business that didn’t matter when he had had his wife waiting for him at home.

It wasn’t surprising that Kwon had decided to marry you, yet to you it was. Everyone knew that he loved you so when he was on the mat with a knife inside of him, to no one’s surprise he called out for you and murmured that he had loved you for a long time.

So now you wait for your husband to come home, a bit worried because he's not arriving at his usual time. Maybe it was just your pregnancy hormones acting up because you started overthinking things and then bursted into tears. However, Kwon was just on time as he came home and saw his pregnant wife sobbing in the living room.

“What's wrong!?” He was worried that something had gone wrong with your pregnancy.

“You didn't come home early like usual! Are you cheating on me?!” You asked still sobbing and his eyes softened so he sat beside you and held you close to his chest. Though he had come home from a long day of working he was a bit sweaty, though you loved being close to him and being able to smell your husband. Kwon whispered sweet nothings in your ear and rubbed your back trying to comfort you.

“I brought you the food you've been craving since this morning.” Immediately you sat up and looked around trying to find the food.

“Where is it?” You said as excitement filled every bone in your body.

“In the ki-“ He laughed, watching as you ran into the kitchen, cutting him off, and grabbing your food. You came back into the living room and sat down eating your food.

“It’s so good thank you so much, Kwon.” You kept eating and he smiled watching his wife become more happy with every bite you took.

—

It was now morning and the sunlight peeked through the blinds, falling right into Kwon’s face which woke him up. He opened his eyes and glanced at you, you were peacefully sleeping next to him. Suddenly Kwon sits up then grabs his phone to call his assistant, to tell him he won't be at work today, he lies and says he's sick. He lies back down, holding you in his arms, and then he starts placing soft kisses on your shoulder.

You slowly woke up and realized Kwon was giving you kisses on your shoulder.

“Kwon?” You murmured sleepily trying to turn around to look at him.

“Shh, go back to bed.” He whispered in your ear trying to get you back to sleep.

“No, our child is quite active this morning.” You said sitting up while Kwon frowned.

“Fine, at least let's shower together before breakfast.” He said feigning annoyance then you both stood up and went to shower.

-

After a couple of minutes, you both came out of the shower. However, as soon as you both started drying up, Kwon instead helped you and made sure to be gentle around your tummy or in general. He kissed your tummy before kissing his wife's lips.

“I'll make us breakfast,” Kwon said leaving you in the bathroom to change.

Although to many people Kwon Jae-Sung was a scary and mean man, to you he was to you he was your husband and the future father of your child, or maybe children. Kwon knew that many women wanted him but he stayed loyal to you because you were the one he truly loved. He may be a jerk but he wasn't one to mess up the only good thing in his life, you.

[hauntingblue]

Oden's prophecy of young pirates coming to save wano becoming yamato's hope for his freedom.... and him becoming oden because of it.... it's just so good... on the other side luffy taking ace's spot for liberating yamato... I think I hauve covid

[narutosux]

another thing i sit here and i think about with the punisher show is that i think a major disappointment for me is that his kids weren't more important than his wife. i think its a mistake to have him be someone more focused on relationships w/ adult women and less focused on making sure kids get to be kids and, most importantly, grow up.

i think it was just so annoying in the show that they made him flashback to his wife constantly and it was always like sexual tension and w/e bc i think..... i think its better if hes still there just looking for his daughter. wondering who she would have been. hes looking for his son, fearing what it would mean if he grew up to be just like his father.

i think for one of his grounding things to be his wife asking him to join her, or for him to be in a mental space of having sex with his wife while being tourtured, not only was the scene really fucking weird, i think it was just disappointing. bro was like deployed more often than he was at home with her?

maybe its just because im a daughter who wants the love of a father, but i also just felt as though the love he had for his daughter in daredevil S2 was more powerful than anything they attempted to portray in S1 of the punisher with his wife.

[gojuo]

Proshippers be funny af. GoT opening sequence is nothing like hotd so that comparison they pulled up is false and desperate.

me: i want helaegon to be the deconstruction of targaryen incest that examines the psychological horror of a forced marriage to one's own sibling in which the full family is already hanging by a thread in a treacherous situation since there is no other targ couple in the entirety of canon perfectly situated to explore and dissect this horrific aspect of targaryen culture

#them: i want an incestuous love triangle (that is not canon) because incestuous love triangles is interesting writing or something

[batsplat]

okay what’s up with the good wife out of all the media you reblog this is the most random one ?

it's not RANDOM omg that is a top three rewatch show to me... I love my silly little lawyers.... perfect mix of fun week to week cases, excellent side characters, interpersonal mess between the main cast, plus all the ways they'd imaginatively tackle Current Events. the good fight had a similar appeal - minus the focus on week to week cases and plus far more explicit politics. didn't always work, but it's one of those shows where I just kind of appreciated how willing they were to take a swing at it and get a bit weird about it. even in the good wife, they had so many Good Bits... the nsa agents who were super invested in the main cast's relationships, the liberal judge with all his Causes, the wife killer, LOUIS CANNING!! obviously, the 'in your opinion' lady, the google guy... also this is from the good fight but the federal investigator lady who always had the birds fly against her office window was a+ plus, it's such a dumb bit but it got me every time as a great appreciator of dumb bits. such a corny pair of shows that are very much like,, About Liberalism and a reckoning with that entire era of american life from an unabashedly liberal perspective, with all the inherent pitfalls and shortcomings of that pov... but does consistently manage to do interesting stuff with that starting point. a lawyer show that's also a bit of an autopsy of a mostly dead vision of america, kinda all you need sometimes

and I love alicia and will, my tragic heterosexuals!! the forbidden love of it all!! I love how cruel and selfish alicia was a lot of the time and how she's mostly in control of that relationship even though will SHOULD be the one in the position of power, how she's constantly using him and then pushing him away while will is so obviously besotted, how she simply keeps finding excuses to stop herself from being happy... does she even love him at all or does she just like him in theory, does she just want to be desired... how they always have 'bad timing' and just cannot figure their shit out... "it's romantic because it didn't happen".... "my plan is I love you" the unapologetic melodrama of it all!! the deleted voice message is?? crazy?? (eli goated character btw, the cheese lobby episode is still one of my favourite episodes of anything ever.) that lift scene is peak romance... when she leaves the firm and he feels so betrayed... his tantrum!! "I took you in when nobody wanted you"!! "you were POISON"!! "you're awful and you don't even know how awful you are"!! he's so pathetic and angry for half a season that he's resorting to just arguing with her in his head!!! always with their failed communications via phone and lift doors and loaded gazes across office spaces and delicate finger touches... the romance of it all, how they really could have worked but it's also so glaringly obvious why they kept falling apart... in the end all these repressed losers create their own misery... elite

[haruchuiyo]

watched the new spider-verse movie