#LOOK AT THIS MAN BEHOLD MY SON

[derpu-doodles]

him boye . love hie

[bonefall]

longtime dc fan and i think a lot of people are angry because alex is obviously one of the most culturally relevant instances of misogyny in media. that being said being more culturally relevant doesn’t mean it’s the worst instance of misogyny and i think bumble definitely experiences more profound misogyny in the way the actual content is presented, if that makes sense

I get you, and that's a charitable way of looking at it.

I think what's rustling my jimmies is that like, there was a couple of WC fans being mildly dismissive of Alex in that note minefield, after dozens of comments of "fuck you how could you let the fridge woman lose" and "Bumble didn't deserve to win ANY rounds" and "how could A CAT experience misogyny." But then WE get blamed for the toxicity because THEY were butthurt that the Funny Cat People have the 'audacity' to win something they feel entitled to.

Like, we've gotta be endlessly charitable as we get openly insulted because they're upset about Alex losing, a very well-known and culturally relevant character with a legacy so massive we have a whole term named after her. But condemnations of "She's just a cat, letting WC into this poll was a mistake, Bumble can't even be a victim of misogyny" only started coming around once I started talking about it.

as if it's OUR fault people got passive-aggressive or even OPENLY aggressive towards us, and that we're "just as bad" for retaliating

But like you said, it's not a "Most Culturally Relevant Misogyny" tournament, it's a "Canon Misogyny Victims" tournament. And you're not even supposed to give a shit that Bumble died. The fat, woman abuse victim is beaten to death by a dictator, and your takeaway is meant to be, "It's so sad that Clear Sky is being blamed for murdering her, now they're all preparing for self-defense against a homicidal maniac, oh nooo :("

And I think that DOES make her deserve the win here! Alex is a MARTYR. Everyone with a brain agrees what happens to her is bad. It happened in her canon because it was bad. We talk about her and keep her memory alive. Bumble gets dismissed entirely out of hand because she's "just a cat in a kid's book" as if that doesn't make it worse, and as if the kid's book didn't treat a domestic abuse survivor like a moron for even asking for help.

Anyway, just to reiterate, I love DC fans. It's not all of you guys. Alex was done dirty and deserves justice-- and it's even kind of a shame that all she became is "The Fridge Woman." I haven't even heard people talk about how she was a wary, responsible person who was still ready to rock with Kyle's new weird glowstick powers, or that she was a journalist, or that she just got brought back in another edition as a Green Lantern only to be revealed as an illusion and re-absorbed back into Kyle's mind. Nope. Even her fans just remember her as The Fridge Woman.

[ireneispunk]

Pride, the Wolf, and the Dragon

Jacaerys Velaryon & Cregan Stark x female reader smut (King's Landing Handmaiden)

You were a sight to behold, merely a handmaiden yet you could command a room. And grasp the attention of a prince and a lord... on the same night?

request: (anon) 'Saw your requests are open, what about dark dom jace x sub brat reader or a threesome with the same as before but with cregan too which they're dark dom but still obsessive I don't know how these too can make sense but I hope you got my point'

w.c: 4537

c.w: canon divergent (blacks won and it is set after the dance, rhaenyra sits the iron throne, basically just did it to have everyone in one place), threesome!!! woop woop, p in v sex, oral (m & f receiving), light choking, spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk, NO use of y/n, as usual no specific features mentioned - let me know if i've missed any!

a.n: i've never wrote for cregan before but im supper happy with this! other requests made are about half done for those waiting ♡

dividers: @v6que ♡

You let out another fake giggle as yet another wealthy man bided for your attention. This type of thing always happened on big occasions, and today certainly was one. Lucerys and Rhaena’s wedding was no small occasion, every lord and lady who had supported Rhaenyra’s claim was here. I mean hells, that’s why you even had the opportunity you did. You weren’t low born, but handmaiden to the queen was a role very much reserved for high born girls. You father had risked his own life, and your families, to help Ser Erryk back into King’s Landing with a secret route he knew through Tumbleton. This job had provided you with a home in quarters you could’ve only dreamed of, and the opportunity to be around the prince. Your fingers grazed across your skin to fiddle with your necklace, you smiled up at the man in front of you, laying on your charm. Despite entertaining his dull conversation and even duller jokes for the past half an hour, you certainly did not care for him. You took advantage of the man’s position in society and every once in a while, you stared beyond his shoulder to see the prince of Dragonstone burning holes into his back. Tonight, however, was different. Not only had you caught they eye of one prince Jacaerys, but his friend from The North, Lord Stark. You could not deny the beauty the two of them shared, handsome, strong features, large frames and eyes that looked as if they wanted to consume you. The few times you looked their way, as to avoid suspicion, they occasionally whispered to one another. A small look caught your eye from your queen, Rhaenyra. You excused yourself from the conversation and walked to the other side of the great hall to where Rhaenyra and Daemon sat. From the opposite side of the table, you felt a gaze upon you, but you did not do the favour of glancing upon them.

You reached Rhaenyra’s side bowing your head before she whispered to you, “Has Lucerys’ chambers been prepared?” She seemed uncomfortable at the request.

You nodded as you said, “Yes, your grace. I can return? And make sure it is still perfect?”. She shook her head, as Daemon placed a hand upon her’s.

“No that won’t be necessary, you have done so much for us today. Feel free to keep enjoying the celebrations,” She paused to look over to her eldest son and the Lord Stark. “Though I believe there are still some who await your acquaintance.” Your mouth formed into a small ‘o’ shape before nodding. You took your leave and turned to face towards the prince and the lord. Both had already been starring at you, Jacaerys averted his gaze whilst the Stark stared you down. Once you stood opposite them at the table you gave the prince a small curtsy, before turning to Cregan and dipping into a deeper curtsey whilst maintaining eye contact with him. He raised his brow, not used to being looked in the eye by such a sweet looking girl. “Your grace. My Lord Stark, I am pleased to meet you.” You spoke confidently, introducing your name and admired the length of his arms that were visible from his rolled sleeves, “It appears the warm climate agrees with you, my lord.” This was one of your favourite hobbies, you couldn’t deny it. Compliment lords see how they respond, speak almost out of turn but not enough to turn any heads. Jacaerys’ grip on his cup tightened at your remark. For weeks since you had worked there you had tortured him. Wearing those barely there handmaiden’s dresses, the obsessive eye contact, compliments unbefitting of a lady he was not courting, drawing his baths, and offering your assistance. Everyday it was a struggle to not rip your dress from you and fuck you in front of everyone like you seemed to desire. He loathed any sort of gathering because he knew your beauty and charm would attract the attention you deserve.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a large smack across the back from his Stark friend. “Where have you been hiding this one Jace?” He exclaimed with a laugh.

You smiled slightly, “Perhaps my lord has not been searching hard enough, enjoy the rest of the celebrations.” You smirked, turning on your heel and stepping down the stone stairs. A bewildered look flashed across Cregan’s face, as Jacaerys shot him a ‘now you know’ look. You were stopped by a rather handsome man on your way past the dancing pairs, you declined his offer to dance and made your way to the other maidens who erupted into quiet chatter, asking you about what the Stark had said.

Your final task of the night had been escorting Rhaena to Lucerys’ chambers. You held her hands in yours and promised her she would be okay, you boasted of Lucerys’ sweet nature and gave her hand a quick squeeze before stepping back behind the corner. You watched as she knocked on the door, before it opened, and she disappeared inside. You smiled to yourself as you turned to head down the corridor before coming face to face with the tall northern man once more. You gasped, raising your hand to your heart. A small chuckle left his lips as he eyed you. He did not know you all that well, but this felt like a rare feat, to catch you off of yours. “My lord, you startled me. Is there something I can help you with?” You looked at him and watched as his eyes shamelessly travelled down your body, lingering on every curve.

“Ah, yes, my lady. I appear to have gotten turned around from my chambers, and I’d hate for those fancy baths these lot make go cold.” You raised a brow at him. Sure, the Red Keep was busy, with windy corridors, but it was a fairly straightforward route from the great hall to the guest’s chambers.

You gestured with your hand to follow him the way he came, “Of course, my lord. Though you do not need to use such honorifics with me, I am not a lady of anything.” He sensed a strange proudness in your lack of title. Cregan was used to people fighting to get the next best thing, yet you were content with your lack of status.

He thought for a moment, before responding. “Then how may I refer to you?”

“However his lord desires.” You spoke with purpose, but never harshly. Every second he had of you intrigued him more.

Once you had reached the familiar door in which Cregan was given a few days prior, you placed your hands behind your back and watched him. He stepped by you and pushed the door open, he leaned against the door frame and eyed you. “So.” You watched him, waiting for him to continue. “Do you have anymore handmaiden duties for the night? Or are you available for me?” A smile tugged at your lips as you thought for a moment.

“Mmm, that depends, why do you wish to know?” Your arms folded over your chest.

He chuckled, “I’ve never had to try this hard to get a pretty girl to have a drink with me.”

You raised your brow, “Most men just ask.” He brought a hand to his chin and rubbed it against the scruff. Just as he was about to respond, someone speaking caught your attention.

“It is getting late your grace is there something you need?” You recognised one of the servants voicing out from around the corner. Out of curiosity, you stepped back to see who it was and there stood the prince himself. He looked away from you when he met your gaze.

“I will come in for a cup of wine. Just one.” Cregan’s face lit up, stepping to the side to allow you to step inside. Your eyes narrowed at the lit fire, the flames still tall. You heard the clanking of a belt and the shuffling of clothes before turning back around to Cregan. You jaw dropped slightly at the sight of him completely nude and making his way over to the bathtub in the room. Your eyes absorbed every inch of him, admiring each defined muscle, every scar, the dark hair that tufted around his chest.

You pulled your gaze away and turned to face the wall. “My lord this is not appropriate.” You voice quivered ever so sightly as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Neither is staring.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “But why waste a perfectly good bath.” You heard water slosh around as he sank into the tub. “Turn around.” Your core lit up at the sternness in his voice.

You turned to face him now that he was submerged, only his upper torso out of the water. He leaned back into the tub, sighing out as he brought his arms to rest on the sides. “Wine?” He questioned. You looked at him with a puzzled look but nodded your head. He gestured over to small table and chairs that had a jug and a few cups upon it. You made your way over, feeling his gaze locked onto you.

“When you invited me in, I thought it might be you fetching the wine.” You grasped two of the cups and the jug before turning to face him.

“Ah, well. It seemed easier to get my own clothes off first.” You raised a brow and walked over to him. You kept your eyes on his face, avoiding what was beneath the water. You used your foot to slide over a cushioned stool towards the side of the bath and sat upon it. You met his gaze once more, now eye level with him. You held out a cup to him and watched his fingers lace around it. Picking up the jug in your hands you steadily poured into the cup, before moving onto your own. You were about to take a sip from yours before he stopped you to clink cups. He did so as if you were another harsh northern man causing the liquid in your cup to slosh backwards and land over your arm and into your lap. You gasped and looked up at him with a shocked look on your face. He laughed heartily at your expression and took a sip of his wine. He heard as your cup clinked against the floor, “You may clean up with me if you wish.” He smirked, placing his cup on the ground, and gesturing to the bath. You stomach tightened at the thought of it but rose to your feet with a hum. He moved slighted and raised his hand up to you. “Stay, please. No more win spilling.” His damned handsome face spread a warmth across your body. You exhaled before taking his hand.

All of a sudden you felt him pull you down, landing bum first into the bath with a big splash that threw water over the sides. You let out a small scream feeling yourself become soaked in water. You yelled at him, splashing his face with the water in annoyance before the door suddenly opening caused his laughter and your screaming to cease. You turned around to see a very angry, then confused, then embarrassed Jacaerys. Your heart dropped as you scrambled to your feet out of the bath, you slipped slightly on the wet floor before stepping towards him. “Y-your grace!” You exclaimed, you felt exposed, the thin material of your dress completely soaked through and clinging to every inch of your body. His eyes darted between you and Cregan.

“I heard a scream, and thought I recognised it. My apologies.” He was about to turn to walk away before Cregan got up out of the tub. Jacaerys eyes widened before hastily shutting the door. Jacaerys kept his eyes firmly on the wall behind you, worrying that if his pants got any tighter it’d be noticeable. For once, you were speechless, unable to form a thought, let alone communicate it. “C’mon Jace, this is exactly how you wanted her. Naked- well almost, needy. I know she’s needy just at the sight of you.” His voice rung out from behind you. “I know you didn’t imagine sharing,” He inhaled sharply through his teeth, as his fingers grazed over your shoulder to pull your hair behind you. “But she’s definitely one who needs two cocks to put her in her place.” You face flushed, as you felt a new wetness in between your legs as Cregan’s hands sat upon your shoulders, rubbing small circles with his thumb. Jacaerys finally brought his gaze to you, he eyed your face before devouring ever inch of your body. His throat bobbed as he walked to face you.

“Tell me what you want.” He spoke as he locked onto your eyes. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling as if you were in a dream.

“I want you,” You spoke softly. “Both of you.” You clarified, looking back over your shoulder to meet Cregan’s eyes.

His large hand rested on your jaw, tilting it up towards him. A shaky breath escaped your lips as his hand trailed down and rested upon your neck, his thumb tracing your throat. Cregan turned your head to face Jacaerys, his jaw was tensed, fists clenched at his sides and eyes filled with hunger. Your body burned hot, Cregan’s body pressed against you, his hard cock pressed above your ass. His grip on your jaw tightened slightly. His lips grazed against your neck up to your ear. “Undress his grace,” Your heart buzzed as Jacaerys’ eyes finally tore away from yours to fleet to Cregan’s for a second before returning to you. You swallowed, feeling smaller and smaller as the seconds passed. “Go on, like a good serving girl.” Cregan’s voice dripped with lust. Your hands made their way onto Jacaerys’ chest, he stiffened under your touch. Your fingers traced along the three headed dragon pin that held his jacket together before unpinning it and letting the jacket fall open at his chest. Cregan’s hands never once left you, tracing up and down your sides of your soaked dress, lips occasionally finding your neck or shoulder. Your eyes travelled down to the belt that decorated his waist and kept you from seeing him. You unhooked it, and pulled it from him, allowing it to clatter to the ground. Your hands pushed his coat from his shoulders and down his arms, revealing a thin cotton shirt. His throat bobbed as your hands traced to his waistband, pulling his shirt up slowly over his head. You hand instinctively touched against his chest, admiring each definition and feeling his skin burn beneath your fingertips. “I told you she’s fucking needy for you.” Cregan’s words flushed your face. Jacaerys eyed you, raising a brow to question him. You nodded lightly feeling overwhelmed with the tightening in your stomach, Cregan’s hands exploring your sides, and Jacaerys watching you like you were his prey. Jacaerys picked up your hand in his and placed a small kiss against it before placing your palm against the bulge in his trousers. Jacaerys’ hand reached your jaw, his thumb traced along your lip as his brows furrowed from your touch.

His fingers were soft, and his touch more delicate than Cregan’s, as he tilted your face to the side as if he were finally able to appreciate every inch of your beauty. His eyes flashed behind yours towards Cregan before you were being led over towards the bed. Jacaerys sat first on the end of the bed, pulling you by your hips to stand between his legs. His palm ran from your stomach, through the valley between your breasts and he rested his fingertips upon your lips while he thought for a moment. “Take off her dress, wouldn’t want the poor thing getting cold.” Your thighs instinctively pressed together. You’d never heard Jacaerys speak in a tone like this, but it was certainly a welcomed surprise. You felt the large hands of the Stark trail up your exposed back to the tie of your haltered dress. One movement later the dress was pulled over your chest and over your hips and dropped to the ground. You felt a cool chill over your exposed skin as Cregan took your hand in is. He pulled you around in a circle, admiring each curve of your form as he did so. A small ‘gods’ mumbled from his lips as he watched you. You gasped as his hands travelled round to your front, taking your breasts into his hands. Jacaerys leaned back slightly to admire you, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing your inner thighs. Your eyes screwed shut as Cregan’s fingers played with your nipples and his lips attached to your neck. “I want her coming on my tongue first.” Your eyes shot open to watch Jacaerys, a small smile playing at his lips. You opened your mouth to say something before Cregan shushed you.

“You heard the prince.” Cregan instructed. You gulped lightly, watching Jacaerys lay back upon the bed, his head of curls hitting the pillows. Cregan held your hand pulling you onto the bed. He watched as you crawled over to Jace, his hand landing on your ass with a harsh slap, causing a yelp to leave your lips.

His hand pushed you closer over Jacaerys until you were straddling his chest. Jacaerys’ hands looped over your thighs to bring your core to his face. His smirk disappeared under your mound as his lips placed small kisses on your thighs. Cregan sat beside you and guided your hand to his cock. He hissed as your hand wrapped around it and began slowly pumping it up and down. You felt as Jacaerys licked a long stripe from your core to your sensitive clit, tasting and collecting your wetness on his tongue. You almost flinched at the sensation, your hand flying up to grip the headboard. A loud moan left your lips as his tongue teased your entrance, before delving in and out of it. Cregan turned your face to him, a groan leaving his lips seeing yours screwed up in pleasure. Your hand continued to pump his cock, enjoying feeling it twitch beneath your hand when your thumb grazed the tip. You jaw dropped at the feeling of Jacaery’s tongue massaging your clit. A flurry of moans left your mouth as his lips latched onto it causing your hips to rut into his face and that familiar tightness to return to your stomach. Cregan’s thumb pulled on your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and gliding across your tongue. You moans were supressed by Cregan’s thumb as you sucked upon it, a satisfied smirk plastering his face as your eyes fell back behind your lids. His thumb left your mouth with a pop as his hand returned to your throat. Your hand moved quicker on his cock as Jacaerys tongue worked on your clit. “You should thank his grace for his hard work, pleasing you with his tongue like this.” Cregan spoke close to a whisper, well, as close to a whisper as the Northern man could get to.

You whimpered in response, unable to form words being on the precipice of your orgasm. Cregan’s hand squeezed lightly against your throat, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. “Use your words when spoken to.” His tone was harsh in a way that flushed your cheeks.

“T-thank you, my prince, for kissing me.” The words fought to escape your lips as all you felt you could do was moan. Your praise causes a groan to fall from his mouth that vibrated upon your clit and fuelled him to massage it at an unbearable pace with his tongue. Your nails dug into the headboard, as your other hand left Cregan’s cock to grip his forearm that held your neck. A flurry of moans left your lips as your orgasm erupted from within you. Your thighs quivered as Jacaerys’ tongue broadly licked you through your high. A large whimper left you lips from the overstimulation causing Jacaerys to place a final kiss upon your clit. You panted as you shuffled down back to straddle his waist. Jacaerys leaned up on his elbows to see you, his hair was dishevelled, his lips plump and coated in your arousal. You leaned forward and tentatively placed a kiss on the side of his mouth, before brushing your lips against his. Your tongue swiped over his lips, tasting your wetness. You gasped as your hips were gripped and you were pulled further down on the bed onto all fours. Jacaerys smirked as you were level with his cock, his pants becoming impossibly tight.

Cregan’s fingers teased the entrance of your pussy as he leaned forward to you, “Gods Jace, she’s soaked.” Your cheeks flushed as you looked away slightly. Jacaerys’ hand found your cheek and turned you to face him.

“I want to watch as he fucks you.” He smiled slightly; his words contradicting the sweet look upon his face. A whimper left your lips as you felt Cregan’s cock rub between your folds and occasionally hitting your sensitive clit. You watched in anticipation as Jacaerys undid the tie of his trousers and pulled them down enough for his cock to spring free. It was huge and dripped with an inviting bead of precum.

Just as your lips were about to touch Jacaerys’ cock, Cregan thrusted into you, bottoming out almost immediately. You clenched at the full feeling, your eyes screwed shut as you let out a half yelp half moan. Once his pace became regular you opened your eyes to see Jace stroking his cock at the sight of you. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, begging for his cock. He obliged and groaned at the sight and sensation of the tip hitting your tongue. With both of your hands propping you up on all fours you took him into your mouth bobbing up and down on the tip and massaging the underside with your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan onto his cock with the feeling of Cregan pounding into you, his length hitting a soft spot inside of you you’d never felt before. Cregan’s hands went from peppering small slaps across your ass to kneading it with his large hands. Jacaerys’ hand made its way to your hair and took a fistful of it. He was gentle as his guided your mouth further down his cock. He moaned loudly as it glided across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. The familiar pressure began to build up in your stomach, and as if he read your mind, Cregan’s pace quickened. Both of his hands gripped into your hips, snapping into you, and pushing against your sweet spot. One of his hands left you hips to reach under your and rub harsh circles into your clit. Your eyes widened as your moans got choked upon Jacaerys’ cock. You tapped the side of his thigh, and he immediately pulled you from his cock, allowing heavy pants to leave your mouth. You cried out a loud ‘fuck’ as you felt your second orgasm wash over you, your pussy clenching tightly over Cregan’s cock. Just as quickly as your orgasm passed your mouth reattached to Jacaerys’ cock, wanting him to enjoy himself too.

A few moments after your peak, Cregan thrusted a few more times before burying his cock deep inside of you and filling you up with his cum. He groaned loudly as his fingertips dug into your skin. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed behind you. Despite the shaking in your legs and your sensitive pussy, you looked up to Jacaerys with an idea. You readjusted to straddle his waist once more and aligned his cock with the entrance of your pussy. Jacaerys looked shocked for a moment before his hungry gaze returned. Your brows furrowed as you slowly slid down onto his cock, trying to readjust for his size. You watched as his head threw back in pleasure as your second cock of the night bottomed out inside of you. You started to move, slowly thrusting yourself upon him. Jacaerys eyes opened to watch you, occasionally looking down to his cock disappearing inside of your pussy that was now overflowing with cum. A loud groan left his lips as he internally cursed himself for not being able to last longer and savour your pussy smothering his cock. He pulled you down by your hair to meet his lips as he kissed you deeply. It was passionate, his tongue leaving little time before it delved into your mouth. You moaned against his lips at the new angle, he was managing to fill you even more. Your thighs shook with overstimulation and Jacaerys noticed before he held your hips at a certain point and began to thrust into you. Your eyes locked with his as you moaned his name. He grunted as his rhythm became erratic before holding your hips down on his cock and as you felt his seed spread within you. You rested your forehead against his as you both regained your breath. His hands ran softly down your back as he pulled his cock from you. You whimpered at the emptiness, before sitting back onto your thighs to relieve the quiver in them as Jacaerys re tied his trousers.

You heard footsteps walk over to the side of the bed, before looking up to see a fully clothed Cregan. You blushed, realising how consumed you had been in the prince to not notice. “Aren’t you both just adorable.” He spoke with a chuckle, as his hand lightly spanked your ass. You shot him a glare, moving to lay beside Jacaerys. “Easy,” Cregan spoke raising his palm. “I though you were the fire breathing dragon.” He smirked gesturing to Jacaerys. Jacaerys, turned his head down to face you, before returning a shrug to Cregan with a smile. Cregan laughed, waving you off before making his way to the door. “Sleep tight, lovers.” He smiled to himself as his hand gripped the doorhandle.

“Wait! But this is your room?” You questioned, leaning up from the bed.

He shot you a grin, “I heard the prince’s chambers have become available.” He shot you both a wink before disappearing into the corridor. You hummed in confusion as Jacaerys just smiled.

“You both confuse me.” You hummed, scanning Jacaerys’ face. He raised his arm up and motioned you to lay beside him. You huffed as you cuddled into him, your head upon his chest. He reached for the blanket that had been tossed aside and threw it over you both. His hand landed upon your side, and softly rubbed your waist.

He planted a small kiss upon your head. “I think we both did a good job at showing you what we think of you.” You could hear the smile in his voice as your cheeks flushed. You definitely knew for sure now.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Succession

Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

“Behold, the traitor dragon, Meleys. Slain by King Aegon.”

Cole might’ve bellowed anything before the mention of Y/N’s husband and she would not have heard it. Breaching the castle doors, out onto the streets, where the smallfolk stare in wonder. The Queen has scarcely been seen in the days following her husband’s accession, leaving many to wonder if she still lives.

Here she stands, in the flesh, walking about them like a commoner. “Where is Aegon?” She finds Ser Criston, keeping pace beside his horse.

“You mustn’t be about, your grace. It is not safe.”

“Where is my husband?”

Ser Gwayne looks back toward his fallen nephew, now carried by men.

“No,” Y/N shakes her head, falling in line with the oversized box one might mistake for a casket. She can’t see much of anything through the slats.

“You must return to the castle, my Queen.” Cole circles back for her. “His Grace will need you at his side.”

“He’s alive?” Y/N breathes.

“When last I checked.”

She nods, remaining beside her husband as he is carted into the castle, up the stairs to his chambers. The maesters await him, peeling away armor and bits of charred flesh with it, to reveal the extent of his injuries.

“Is my son going to die?” Alicent asks.

“He is badly burned.” The maester informs the Queen dowager.

“Men survive burns.” Y/N says, holding a hand to her belly, attempting to quell the churning.

“He has many broken bones.”

“Bones heal.”

The grand maester sighs, “that is our hope, your grace.”

What lies beneath his breastplate is naught but more red, angry skin, or lack there of. Alicent comes round to Y/N, a rare occasion, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Mayhaps it is best you step away.”

“I will stay,” Y/N shakes her head, “if anything happens… I must stay.” Hold his hand as he goes, if it comes to it.

Alicent nods, withdrawing.

Aegon’s breathing is something awful. Men survive burns. Bones heal.

An eternity passes in that room, on bated breath. Eventually the maesters begin clearing out, leaving the King to mutter, incoherently.

“Your grace.” The grand maester turns to Y/N. “It is done.”

“Thank you, Grand Maester. For all you have done, I- I owe you a debt.”

The man takes her hand, “we can only do so much to aid in the king’s healing, I believe it is you he needs. Be his strength.”

Y/N nods, “of course.” She makes herself comfortable upon the mattress beside him as the doors close, giving them a moment alone.

Aegon’s mumblings grow louder, though still impossible to make sense of.

“Shhh,” Y/N hushes him, brushing hair from his face. “There is nothing to fear. You need only…get better for me. I will tend the council shortly, but I shall return.”

He quiets then, as though her gentle reassurance is all he wanted.

“I will not abandon you. Not now, not ever. Rest easy, my love. You are safe now.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, before taking the stairs down to join the small council.

Those sitting around the table are already in deep discussion, gaping at the Queen’s entrance, standing to greet her.

“So kind of you to wait for me, my lords.” Y/N smiles, taking her ball from the center.

“We thought you might be with his grace, the king.” The hand explains. “He will be expecting you when he wakes.”

“I am not sure he will ever wake.” The grand maester cuts in. “His fate lies with the gods now.”

“Give it time.” Y/N sniffs, “it has been mere hours since his return.”

“If Aegon could wake, he would have done so for you.” Alicent decides. “A king cannot rule in his sleep, we must appoint a regent to serve in his absence.”

“I am awake.” Y/N reminds them.

“My Queen,” Tyland Lannister interjects, “if I may be so bold. Your lord husband has been wounded in battle, he will need your tender hand if we hope him to make any sort of recovery.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Lord Tyland.” Y/N replies, in a measured tone. Should she lose her head before the council, there will be no coming back from it. “Still, I am willing and able to rule.”

“In the event of his grace’s untimely death, we must be prepared to proceed with the succession.”

“Understandably, and we do not lack heirs. My husband and I have four children.” Y/N shifts in her chair. “Assuming, as you have, that the men of the realm will never accept a woman on the throne, we then pass the crown to our first born son.” To charm the snakes, you must behave as a snake.

The council looks to each other. “Prince Laenor is but two years of age, our next ruling king, by law; though too young to presently serve.”

“I will advise him, I am his mother.”

Alicent rises from her seat, “might I humbly suggest myself? I have already done so during my late husband’s long illness-”

“Which was fine then?” Y/N arches a brow, “a wife to rule in her husband’s absence.”

Alicent lowers her gaze. “This is different.”

“Because I am your enemy’s daughter and named heir,” Y/N huffs. “Rules for thee, not for me. Isn’t that right?”

“Mind yourself.”

“Or what?” Y/N lifts a shoulder, “you will usurp my husband, as you did my mother?”

“Viserys changed his mind.” Alicent says, with finality. “I am sorry for what’s happened, but with his dying breath, he wished for Aegon to be king. I pray you do not hear a similar whisper from your husband anytime soon.”

“I love my husband,” Y/N seethes, “let that be known.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

“Whatever the members of this council intend to do now will be spoken plainly, in my presence.” Y/N demands, staring down at her wedding ring.

“I believe it is in our best interest to appoint Prince Aemond as Regent, until our King has been restored.” Ser Criston announces, “as hand, I know the king’s greatest concern is the safety and well being of his wife and children. We must honor that, in these unprecedented times.”

Y/N swallows, “very well.”

“My Queen.” Aemond reaches past her for the council ball, abandoned by her husband.

————————————————————————

Y/N goes through the motions, putting their children to bed. All is well, my darlings. Father needs only rest. When they have each found sleep, she returns to Aegon. Speaking to him the same way she always has, as though he can hear.

“The men of the council are restless in your absence. They circle like vultures now,” Y/N chokes out, touching the unmarred skin of his face. “And I am alone in this….I have never been alone.”

If she knew no better, she could swear his fingers twitch against hers. Mayhaps she is gripping them too tightly. She releases his hand, much to Aegon’s dismay, grumbling his discontent.

“Hush now, I am here and you are here. The rest will sort,” Y/N reminds him.

She watches him then, the heaving rise and fall of his chest, wrapped in bandages. Men survive burns. Bones heal.

In time, Alicent joins her at Aegon’s side. “Has there been any change?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head.

“You are kind to be here, he loves nothing in the world as he loves you. I am sure your presence alone is a comfort to him.”

“That is my hope,” Y/N admits.

“I will leave you to it.” Alicent offers a hint of a smile, making for the door.

“Mummy.”

Y/N hears it, his mother does not. “Alicent,” she calls her back.

Alicent flicks away tears before turning round, “what is it?”

“He’s asking for you.”

“F-for me?”

Y/N nods, giving his hand a squeeze.

Alicent returns to his bedside, passing a hand over the side of his face. “I’m here.”

He draws in a rattling breath, “protect her.” Aegon stumbles over the words. “Please, Mummy.”

Y/N inhales sharply, hushing him.

Alicent locks eyes with her daughter by law. I pray you do not hear a similar whisper from your husband anytime soon. “I will do this, for you, Aegon. You needn’t worry.”

Aegon says nothing else, succumbing to sleep once more.

Alicent excuses herself, with a nod.

Y/N muffles the sound of her cries in the hand which isn’t holding his. She’s only half awake by the time she hears footfall and whispering at the end of her husband’s bed.

“Was it worth the price?” Helaena asks.

“I’ve no idea what you mean, my darling.” Aemond mutters, brushing his lips against her cheek.

Part 2

[justaz]

ygraine gives birth to a quiet child. the babe does not scream, cry, or wail when it is born. one of the midwives take the bloody babe and holds it against her chest and she rubs its back and urges it to breathe. gaius is hidden beneath her dress and he tends to her wounds that sap her strength with every gush of blood. nimueh sits beside her, holding her hand as she takes in gasping breaths, recovering from the painful and exhausting ordeal of birthing a child. nimueh’s hand is running through her hair as she whispers praises in her ear that she cannot hear.

the room begins to darken as she leans against nimueh. her vision tunnels to a golden scene hovering in the air above her. she sees a young man with golden hair and bright blue eyes. he sits atop a throne with a golden crown nestled on his head. beside him is a figure that is obscured, their features hidden from her view but she can tell they are powerful. the image in the air shifts between the two people, flipping like a coin in the air, the golden king on one side and the cloaked figure on the other. the coin slowly picks up speed until the two figures blur together.

from the distorted image, three women appear and whisper a prophecy to her, a familiar one that has been told for millennia - more a fairy tale now than the words of a seer. as the women speak each line of the prophecy, one after the other, their voices combine into one as they whisper to her “behold the once and future king, arthur pendragon”

“do you see that?” she feels herself mumble as the three women disappear and the coin begins to slow once more. the two men come back into view, now side by side, “oh, its beautiful,” she murmurs, “look at him, nimueh. my son, my son…so beautiful.” arthur shifts his gaze to meet her own and suddenly the golden visage begins to rot. his regal robes fall apart, his crown rusts, the castle around him begins to decay and collapse into rubble.

arthur begins to cry like a child, unfitting for a man of his age. he shrinks to a young boy, perhaps seven, and stands next to his father, uther, as he addresses a crowd. he stands tall and proud though it is clear something has happened. his expression is cold and unfeeling until his gaze shifts down to someone in the square and pure hatred fills his eyes. the vision moves back and allows ygraine to watch as a young woman is tied to a pyre, screaming and crying and begging and pleading for her life.

“this woman has been found guilty for the crime of sorcery,” uther’s voice commands attention though his words make no sense to her. sorcery a crime? what nonsense. uther continues, “for such a crime, the punishment is and will always be death.” he nods down at the executioner who ushers forward and lights the wood of the pyre. knights follow suit and soon the woman is screaming in agony as flames engulf her.

arthur lowers his head and averts his gaze but uther grabs his chin and pulls his face up, “watch,” he orders him, “they killed your mother. they deserve this.” young arthur has tears in his eyes but he does not let them fall. he squares his shoulders and stares down at the woman as she is burnt to a crisp. when the screaming finally stops, young arthur shifts his gaze up to hers.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “please, save me.”

ygraine can hear her cries as the vision dissipates, her wails and denials. nimueh holds her close and whispers how she needs patience, her child will breathe yet. ygraine feels even more of her strength sap away and she understands. the deal uther made with nimueh, it called for a death to create a life. she knows now that it is her life that will be reaped in exchange. she does not have time to weep.

she turns to nimueh, “protect him,” she squeezes her hand, “you have to protect him.” she pleads. nimueh does not understand. how could she? ygraine squeezes her hand harder than she had in childbirth, “promise me, nimueh. you won’t let uther corrupt him. you won’t let him harm my son.” nimueh looks down at gaius who peeks over her dress, sorrow in his gaze and shakes his head. ygraine sobs once more, “promise me, nimueh!”

the high priestess turns back to her, “i promise, my lady, but rest assured king uther will not harm a hair on your child’s head.”

ygraine shakes her head, her body has gone numb, “you don’t understand. he will never be the same. you have to protect him. you have to protect arthur.”

nimueh nods, her expression trouble, “i promise, ygraine. i will protect arthur.”

ygraine smiles through her tears, the pain and sorrow fading as she grew weaker. nimueh’s expression grows panicked but the last thing she hears is her beautiful son’s cries.

nimueh didn’t understand ygraine’s wish until uther learned of his wife’s fate. she had expected sobbing, falling to his knees, or begging the gods. she didn’t expect the rage, though it was understandable, and she definitely didn’t expect the vitriol he spat at her, blaming her for ygraine’s passing. despite the protests that fell from her lips, she knew he was right. it was her magic from a deal she offered him that took her life.

her magic claimed ygraine’s life in her chambers. she held her in her arms as she died and could do nothing to save her. the last thing she saw when she died was nimueh, helpless to do anything to stop what she had put in motion.

uther called for his guards to round up all magic users and have them punished. gaius, a man who was always a bit selfish, surrendered to uther, denounced sorcery and magic and was forgiven for his past “treachery”. when he turned to nimueh, she knew even if she had denounced magic, he would never forgive her for what happened. he ordered his guards to have her taken to the dungeons in cold iron and spat that she would burn in the morning.

it didn’t take much magic to disappear from the throne room and reappear out in the halls. she strode through the castle up to the nursery where little arthur was to reside. something in uther shattered in that room, he cursed magic users and called them monsters, beasts meant to be hunted and killed. she wouldn’t know if he truly meant to go through with it until the first execution but she was not waiting that long.

ygraine’s last wish had been for her to protect arthur, to protect him from his father. when she had said that, she had assumed the queen was delirious from pain and blood loss. now she understood. the triple goddess had blessed her with knowledge before her passing. and with that knowledge, she begged nimueh to protect arthur from uther. nimueh would not wait until it was too late, she would not sit back and let fate have it’s way, she would not let ygraine down again.

nimueh greeted the wetnurse with a smile. the woman smiled kindly up at her and she politely requested arthur and asked her to leave. the woman was hesitant but a subtle spell over her mind guided her out and away from the room. nimueh stared down at little arthur’s face. he had thin strands of white hair that was sure to thicken and darken as he grew. he had ygraine’s nose and lips. when he blinked his eyes open it was like she was staring down at the late queen.

the sound of guards pounding down the hall alerted her of her precarious situation once more and she did not waste another second before fleeing. she held arthur tight to her chest as she fled the castle and wormed her way through the citadel. no one looked twice at her, the average citizen unaware that their queen had had a child and died just that morning.

nimueh traveled as fast as she could back to her island. she warned her sisters that resided on the island of what uther meant to do. they did not take his threats seriously until they scried and saw uther slaughtering hundreds of magic users in the coming weeks. nimueh and her sisters helped raise arthur until an attack was launched on the isle itself. she and arthur remained under the castle while the other high priestesses fought back against the armies storming their home. one of her sisters stumbled down into the room, beaten and bloodied.

“they’ve won,” she slurred, “the isle of the blessed has fallen. you must go, protect the child. do not let him fall into uther’s hands.” she cast her magic to form a gateway for nimueh and arthur, “i do not have much strength to hold this, sister. go now.” nimueh left her home behind. she heard two weeks later that the castle had been burnt and crumbled to rubble.

nimueh and arthur traveled the land, hopping from place to place and never settling for long as camelot knights were soon to follow. arthur grew quicker than she thought possible and she knew she had to settle down somewhere, yet she knew that if she were to settle in a village or town, it would only be a matter of time before camelot found them.

it took time and energy and lots of magic, but she created a cottage in the woods, hidden by wards to divert any visitors. she and arthur both learned to live off the land, to grow what they needed and survive on their own. he always found her magic fascinating and loved to watch her cast spells. since he was born from a deal she made, his very being was fused together with her own magic, marking him as hers.

he called her mama and she called him son. she told him of his other mother, ygraine, of how she gave birth to him but perished before she could meet him. she told him that she knew ygraine was proud of him because she was proud of him. arthur always wished to explore the world outside of their haven but nimueh’s paranoia kept him close.

it wasn’t until one day when arthur was ten that something changed. nimueh had been on her way out to tend to their crops when she heard arthur laughing and playing. she smiled to herself as she continued on her way. until she heard another voice, a higher voice belonging to what sounded like a child.

nimueh dropped her tools and rushed around the lawn to find arthur on the edge of their haven playing with a boy a couple of years younger than him with a mop of black hair and wide blue eyes. the boy was also inside their haven. he had gotten past her wards. he was dangerous. nimueh dashed forward and grabbed arthur, tugging him behind her as she assessed the boy. arthur complained behind her and begged her to let him stay. the boy stood up on shaky legs and didn’t bother dusting off his trousers.

“hi!” he waved a hand, a goofy smile on his face, “my mom’s busy at the market so i came to play in the woods. arthur and i were just about to play will and i’s favorite game, knight and princess. will always makes me be the princess but arthur wanted to be the princess this time so i really, really, really wanna play with him. do you wanna join? you can be…the dragon guarding the princess!! oh, you already are. are we playing now? hold on, let me get a stick so i can-“

“who are you?” nimueh finally cut off his rambling. she wasn’t sure how a child, or anyone for that matter, could talk so fast and endlessly without taking a breath. her fear eased as she recognized that he truly was just a child, but she still remained wary as he had somehow found his way past her wardings.

“oh, sorry! my mom always says i have to be more polite but i always am so i never understand what she means.” he blinked and shook his head before grinning up at her, showing off his missing tooth in the top corner of his mouth, “i’m merlin!”

[eyelambspider]

𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐡.𝟐 — 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

Part One || Part Two

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Leaving the Cyberlife store is an... experience for the broken android. After the workforce and standing idle in the store for so long, you finally bring König home, where he learns what it would mean to be your companion. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.3 k 𝐚/𝐧 : sincerely, thank you all for the lovely comments and interactions on the first chapter ♡ (my android son is so cute ahgkgj-) 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : fluff, hurt/comfort(?), domestic fluff, slow burn?

𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋. They had no programming to want. There were no lines of code that enabled them to dream. They were machines built to serve.

In theory, an android should not feel fear.

The WX-400, or König, glanced down at where your hand met his. The synthetic skin clasping imperceptibly onto yours. So warm and soft... and so much smaller in his own.

It kept him grounded when you guided him onto the sleek floors of the store, his sensors coming alight with all the new input his body was receiving. From being stuck in a paralyzing stasis, to feeling the cool spring sun on his skin; the slight chill of the store in his mouth; seeing the detailed cracks embedded into the pavement of the sidewalk.

His body felt like it was short circuiting. Jolted to life too fast, even if you had only led him to the curb. That soft smile on your face when he looked for assurance, still holding onto him.

What would happen if he let go? It didn't feel right to think that way. He was sure the world would not stop spinning below his feet if he did.

"König?"

Your voice made him snap out of it. Those stormy eyes of his hesitantly trailing up to meet yours.

"This is our ride," you tilted your head, gesturing to the polished self-driving car that sat on the corner of the street.

He didn't respond. Eyes flickering away, still holding onto your hand. It was a cute gesture. Maybe he just forgot to stop holding it? Or maybe the android didn't feel comfortable letting go without permission?

Hm...

You decided then: owning an android was hard.

The entire ride back to the house was a mix of stolen glances. Each entirely new to the other.

You, watching the way his soft eyes followed the people passing by on the street. Androids and humans alike. Watching, but never saying a word.

König was a sight to behold, and the smile that crawled onto your lips was inevitable.

Such a large android. Tall and built with the purpose of lifting ten times that of the average human... moving so gently, and with a hesitance for the world you'd only ever seen in stray animals.

And occasionally, when he felt you shift to watch your own window or the red-green lights of traffic. He'd consider you from the corner of his eye. Unreadable, before you could catch him and his eyes snapped back forwards.

People and buildings passed by in a blur of lights. Shops and a park filled with trees. Androids always obediently trailing after the humans who owned them, unable to do much but smile and tend to the children or shopping bags. Task after task, demand after demand.

When the car stopped at a red light, his eyes landed on a small girl, her pink rain jacket covered in a light sprinkle of rain. Jumping in every puddle she could with a giggle. The young android next to her, a dark-skinned man with long hair, smiled and did the same with her. Each taking a turn splashing gently in a puddle, unaware of the rest of the world around them, only enjoying the remnants of the rain.

Something in that image, the adoring smile on the android's face as he watched the girl play in innocent bliss, it stirred something for a long while, even after the car began to roll away.

He didn't know where the two of you were going. The thought of 'home' having no real meaning to him.

Back at the sites, the company only had two trucks to house their android workers. Rows of three in each truck, filled with small metal compartments for the mechanical men to stand in idly until the next job. Under lock and chain, so nobody stole company property, with no light except the one that blinked from his LED...

Soon, the commercial buildings melted into a quaint suburban neighborhood. Run down houses, but clearly lived in, with warm lights filling their windows.

Many had been put out of work due to the rise of android labor. He had heard one of the site managers complaining about it often.

König's eyes flickered over you for a moment again.

Did you work? Have a home or a family to go back to? People you lived with?

"We're here," you gestured sheepishly, unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing out of the car. Your hand finally slipping from his.

'Here' was a two story house with peeling paint and a handful of missing shingles. It looked like the surrounding houses. Puddles and mud around the sunken walkway from the rain, nothing but scrawny hedges growing yet.

König followed suit, ducking his head low to climb out of the car unscathed, towering back to his full height. Maybe the tallest android model built, at an impressive six foot ten inches.

He noticed you staring and his eyes hit the ground.

He was just-an amazing looking android, and his height was only more impressive to you. It was really hard not to smile. An android...

"Come on," you waved for him to follow you.

The closer you both got, the more he could see the wear. The fogged windows, the flickering outside light. Up the wooden porch that creaked dangerously under his weight, to the solid front door. That looked new.

"Well, here it is, home," you shrugged, the front door swinging open for the two of you.

"I just moved in," you explain as the android stepped through the doorframe to join you (having to bow his head again), peered around curiously. "The house is a bit old, but I'm going to fix it up for us," you nodded, looking around at the expanse of cardboard boxes in the living room. So sure of yourself.

Us?

The circular LED on his temple flickered yellow, a sign of stress that disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Here," you held your hand out for him, producing a small silver key for him to take. "House key," you explained with a sort of bounce in your toes.

It was for him, he realized.

He tilted his head, taking it from your hand, cool fingers brushing against yours as he considered you. Again.

You looked really... How should he describe it? Happy? Excited?

And you were. You had a house. A beautiful house that just needed a bit of care put into it, and an android unlike any you'd ever seen to help you make it a home.

"Well, I'd show you around but there's not much," you scratched at your neck with a sigh. It was a big house, just empty so far, and for the amount of stuff you had brought... You'd need a lot more to make it homey like you intended when you purchased the house.

You led him down the hall, shoes tapping against the wooden floorboards, dust lining the floors, but the house actually looked pretty sturdy to him.

"There's the living room, connects to the kitchen," you listed off as you walked by, "Washroom, and the basement door." You finished, pointing off to the left until you made it to the end of the hall. Still peering ahead towards a back door. Also new, he noted.

"Up the stairs is my room and a couple of... well empty rooms," you shrugged.

You had a lot on your plate, granted. Your eyes skimming over the backyard with a sigh. If you wanted flowers this year, they'd have to be planted fast... with the rest of the house to do, how hard could it be?

You spun around and faced König with a soft optimism, leading him back to the living room.

"Well, lets start with some of the bigger boxes," you nodded, the plan seeming to come together in your mind. "The movers did most of the heavy lifting, so I don't have to worry about pushing a mattress upstairs or moving all those dressers..."

It was true, there was a large cream colored couch already in the living room, along with a large white TV stand pushed against the wall.

It looked almost as big as you were, and the android found it a fitting comparison. Imagining you pushing that thing all by yourself just- didn't work in his mind.

König followed your lead, starting with the box on top of the pile that trailed along the hallway. Each one labelled quickly in sharpie.

Photos, Decorations, Dishes, Cleaning Supplies, Towels. All stuff that looked like it was supposed to be downstairs.

König decided though, to stick to the living room, carefully cutting open the taped up boxes with a precision that seemed impressive. Even manual. Carefully laying out photos and old picture frames you had decided were important.

There were a few that caught his eye. His slate colored irises lingering on your face as you smiled or laughed in a few of them. Surrounded by what he deduced were your closest friends or family members... all based on how happy you looked, or how you moved your hands to hold each person.

"You can leave the bigger ones aside König."

He nearly jumped.

"I'll put them up later," you assured him.

He glanced over his shoulder, where you now sat on the floor, fiddling with some small box in your hand.

He looked back to the photo's, a bit more hesitant to touch them now before he set them back into the box and turned towards you. The circular LED on his temple fluttering a yellow.

"I could put them up for you," he offered quietly. Given a drill or nails for them, it wouldn't take that long. In fact, the tools might've even felt familiar in his hand.

The sound of his voice, soft but rich and deep made you smile so wide he thought he had said something out of line.

He shouldn't have questioned you, he realized the mistake. His deeply scarred hands imperceptibly clasping into loose fists at his sides.

"Thank you," you began, "You could do that after we paint the walls tomorrow," you nodded, glancing around at the dim room around the two of you. "I was thinking maybe a light green? Or maybe even a smoky color?" you thought aloud, clearly having been undecided on the matter.

The LED turned blue again. The tension in his body suddenly melting away as you thanked him.

"Do you have a good color in mind?" You asked him then, suddenly wondering if androids had opinions. Or more specifically, if König did.

He shook his head quickly.

"No... favorite ones?"

And he shook his head again, his eyes fluttering downward. Was he... supposed to have one?

You only offered another soft smile, figuring as much. "We'll both come up with something," you assured quietly. Those soft eyes of yours trailing back up to him as you finally undid the box in your lap, pulling out a carefully wrapped vase. The beautiful glossy ceramic glinting in the fading light from the windows. Holding it up for him to take.

"It's going to be easier with you around," you joked softly, but it seemed true. The depth of your words had a faith in him that felt... unfamiliar.

He took the vase gently from your hands, his eyes flickering around as if he meant to say something, before he quietly turned and put it down onto a small table.

He returned to doing as you instructed, placing all of the big things into the room, leaving the walls bare for now.

The rest of the hours went by like that, you occasionally stopping to ask him something that seemed profound to his android brain.

Why would you want to know if he had a favorite animal? Or if he liked music?

What use could he have for preferences like that?

But he always answer politely, if not curtly, until the living room at least had the lights and the TV connected.

You sat down onto the couch with a huff, taking a moment to relax after the long day you'd had.

In truth, buying and owning an android never really seemed to have priority. This house did.

You glanced over at König, who was still working away quietly. Folding empty cardboard boxes up neatly and setting them aside for recycling.

"König."

He stopped when you addressed him, turning his attention back to you before he could grab another box and continue. Waiting for another command.

But, he was working too hard.

You patted the spot on the couch next to you.

And when he didn't move or seem to understand the gesture, your face lit up in amusement. "Come sit, relax for a bit," you trailed off. He was an android, sure, but it didn't mean... well that he was a machine.

The thought made your chest feel heavy suddenly. It was easy, with how human-like they looked, to forget that they weren't human.

The large android did as you said and sat down. The cushions dipping beneath him and making you lean that way with a small laugh.

He was so rigid, even for an android. Sitting up straight, scarred hands on his knees, not even leaning against the back of the couch. Unsure really what to do without someone's input.

'Relax?' Did he really know how to?

König watched you from the corner of his eye again as you flicked on the TV. Your feet pulled up, sinking comfortably into the cushions. Your knees almost brushing his.

It reminded him of the store, only a few hours earlier.

How warm you were next to him, and how that smile lingered on your lips as you watched the TV tiredly.

The moment you turned to catch his gaze, he straightened again, eyes forward, pretending to watch the screen. His LED blinking that sunny yellow.

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. ♡

@riotakire @jonathansmarbles @peter-the-pan @distinguishedprincesstrash @sleepyisoffline

@asteria33 @timetothirst @sleeplessskeleton @lady-boketto @mionacaped

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 8.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 1,430

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And if you enjoy it so far, please let me know <3 On another side note; I didn't get to proof read it anymore, will do so tomorrow!

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

8th Dec. - Hex Play

“What now?” Dean asks, his eyes darting up from the small folded paper he had added to the hex bag in your hands. “We just… go to bed or what?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You tightly wrap the red string around the leather pouch, sealing it for good so that neither of you will end up with a crows beak or a coyotes backbone in your face while you sleep. "And if we wanna leave, we just tear the paper apart."

The hex bag gets shoved under the mattress before both of you swing yourselves onto the bed and get comfortable, your hands instinctively searching one another to intertwine your fingers. For a moment, you both stay silent, your eyes glued to the ceiling in anticipation.

Then Dean’s (short) patience snaps and he grunts in annoyance, “This isn't wo-” “Son of a bitch,” he breaths out wide-eyed, taking in the sudden change of surrounding. One moment you were in your bed, next you both stand in the hallway of a hospital.

“No way,” you mutter just as befuddled, your eyes roaming the life like location while you turn around - just to get bumped into by a man in his white coat. “Whoa- watch it mate-”

“Nurse,” he nods at you with a sultry smile before he continues his way down the hall with his damn cowboy boots clamping against the floor. Wait. Cowboy boots? No fucking way this is- You whirl around to meet Dean’s face. And oh God, his green eyes were practically sparkling like the friggin’ vamp guy from Twilight.

“Dr. Sexy.” You say, hoping to snap him out of his swooning state.

“Doctor Sexy, M.D.” He corrects you. He watches him until he takes the corner at the end of the hallway and he finally manages to shift his focus to you for the first time, his lips parting at the sight. “Goddamn, honey.” His eyes widen once more, his tongue darting out briefly to swipe his lips, “This hex play’s workin’ like a charm.”

You look down at yourself, just now realizing that, right, the guy had addressed you as ‘nurse’. And lo and behold - you are wearing a nurse’s attire. Or well, let’s say a bit of a sluttier version of a nurse, but you had to admit, the short white skirt and the matching stockings had some sex-appeal. “So this is what you wrote down? This what you dream of?” You look up at Dean with a teasing smile as you notice him basically gnawing his bottom lip at the sight of you like this.

“Hell yeah,” he admits without hesitation, “You look so hot – I just – damn.” Yep, this was exactly what he had always dreamed of; the classic role play cliché of the sexy nurse. But it was you, it wasn’t any nurse, but actually you. Dean stares down at you, his mind seemingly short-circuited while you can make out a faint moan that he just tried to bite back. Your lips curl into a knowing smile while you begin to get into character. “Soooo…” you drawl in a sultry tone and taking a step closer until your breasts are pressed flush against his chest and his breath hitches at your unexpected move. You continue the teasing, your fingers slowly trailing up his doctors coat until they reach the first button of his shirt, playfully fumbling with it, “I think I need to do a check up on you… Doctor.”

“Y-Yes,” Dean stutters slightly, his breaths coming out in short, excited little huffs. You had barely even touched him and he is already so close to a whimpering mess. “Alrighty,” You chuckle while you grab him by the collar to lead him over to the next open door. “Time to get those pants down for your full body check.”

Dean stops in his tracks, trying – and failing – to hide the intense shudder that runs through his body at the way you play your role absolutely perfectly. “Damn, woman,” he mutters under his breath, his words underlined by a faint whine. “Wait- I know a better spot-” He grabs you around the waist and pulls you along, navigating you both past a dozen nurses and doctors until you two end up in the office of none others but Dr. feakin’ Sexy, M.D’s. Taking back the lead in this roleplay, you swiftly push him up against the wall, your red lips leaving a trail of lipstick kiss marks along his collarbone and all the way up to his cheekbone. Dean shudders under your touch, his voice a low whimper, “My God, hon-”

“Nurse,” you interject while you keep nipping at his pulse point, drawing another needy whimper from his lips. “I must be very thorough with my inspections...Dr. Winchester.” You announce against his skin and your fingers quickly go to work their way down each button.

Some minutes later, Dean is stripped completely naked, his entire body peppered with sweet red lipstick markings proving your thorough work. Your hands run along his inner thighs, the nails gently grazing his skin until one of them comes up to cup his testicles and the other wraps around his rock hard erection. Dean’s breath gets caught in his throat, his head falling back against the wall with a loud, strangled whimpering noise, halfway choked back by his teeth, biting his bottom lip.

You drop to your knees and your mouth quickly goes to work, earning yourself a row of guttural moans from him. With your head moving up and down in a tantalizing pace and your fingernails gently scratching the sensitive skin close by. “P-Please,” he starts to plead with you, his words laced with need and desperation, “Please- n-nurse,” each of his hands grab a fistful of your hair, his fingers tightening whenever you suck hard and his hips buck into your mouth. “W-wait,” he suddenly pulls you back, his voice breathless and his legs slightly trembling from how close he was to falling over the edge. You instantly stop, your eyes searching his while you lick your lips and wipe your chin clean with your thumb. “Is everything alright? You want me to stop?” You ask a little unsure while you stay kneeled in front of him.

“N-no, God no,” He clarifies quickly, still catching his breath, “But I don’t want this to end yet.”

Next thing you know, Dean scoops you up from the ground and with swift steps carries you over to the office desk where he sits you down on the edge of it. He leans over you, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss, smearing your lipstick across your face. When he breaks the kiss, his emerald eyes lock onto yours, making sure you enjoy this just as much as he does. “You… like it too? This?” he whispers against your lips, hoping for your reassurance. You smile, your fingers gently threading through his dark blond hair while you whisper back. “Hell yeah I do.” Dean’s lips twitch into that trademark smirk of his and he doesn’t wait any longer to push up the little fabric that your skirt offers before he slips your panties aside to slip his cock inside you with a shared deep groan from both of you. His strong hands keep you close to him as he rocks his hips, pushing in and out of you slow at first. But then the need quickly builds up and he moans and pants into the crook of your neck, “Fff-uck- Y-you’re so good, so beautiful, s-so tight-,” his fingers dig into the flesh at your hips while he starts to thrust into you, making sure to hit all the right spots to hear his sweet little nurse moan as well.

You dig your nails into the skin of his back, clawing at him as you feel him push you closer and closer to the edge, that knot tightening up more by the second. One of his hands suddenly lets go of your hip to snake down past your bunched up skirt and right back up to your swollen clit, his rubbing index finger determined to make you come undone in more than one ways. With a loud whimper your hips buck against him and your legs wrap around his waist to pull him in, needing him deeper, to fill you up all the way. “D-doctor,” you whine, your clouded brain trying its best to stay in character despite your impending climax. “I- I’m close-”

“Me too,” he pants breathlessly, his hips increasing their pace, now set on getting you both over the edge. With another hard thrust, you feel your body tense up and the next moment the crash of the orgasm waves through your body while Dean cums at the same time with your walls clamping around him.

“God…” he pants heavily, his forehead dropped to your shoulder, “That… that was amazin’… You are amazing.”

*** “Y’know what I don’t get… wasn’t this supposed to be like our dreams combined?” Dean looks around the hospital’s hallway, searching for something which didn’t fit into the setting of his favourite TV-Show. His hair dishevelled and his doctors coat put back on sloppily. “Or did I miss somethin’?” His confused eyes trail back to meet yours with a raise of his eyebrow, his arm draped around your back pulling you a little closer. You shrug it off with a wry smile, “Guess it just picked yours over mine.” Dean grunts, not entirely buying your explanation while he rummages through his capes pockets to grab the small pouch. Then he pulls your piece of paper from the hex bag and a faint smirk appears on his lips, “Can I see what you wrote down?”

You snatch the small scrap of paper from his fingers and dodge his attempt to attain it back, “Hey-!” “That’s my secret!” You snigger mysteriously, the crumpled paper disappearing in your back pocket. “Yours was better anyway.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007

[urbabyalli]

“Lost and Found”

ʚ pairing: dad!hoshi x mom!reader

ʚ genre: fluff, crack (not really)

ʚ warnings: none!

ʚ summary: your husband hoshi, and your son dohyun, are appalled by the absence of their favorite stuffed tiger, yoshi.

ʚ a/n: ik i was supposed to finish wonwoo’s fic first according to the poll i posted, but i genuinely have no motivation to finish it. anyways, pictures above are from pinterest!

ꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀ

“babeee,” your husband whined from upstairs. you yelled back with a ‘yes hoshi’ curious about what he was whining about.

“we need you,” hoshi answered referring to him and his son. “it’s urgent,” he added slightly in a state of panic.

with a sigh, you closed the book you were reading and made your way to the staircase. walking into your toddler’s room, you found hoshi seated in the middle of the carpet. legs spread wide (not like that) and your two year old, dohyun sitting on his thigh. your eyes scanned over the two boys making sure neither of them were hurt (they weren’t).

“what happened this time?” you questioned.

hoshi took a deep breath and then said, “yoshi is missing.” your husband was referring to dohyun’s tiger stuffed animal, which for some odd reason they both cherished very much.

“you can’t find yoshi?” you asked sitting down in front of the man.

“we looked everywhere and we can’t find him” hoshi rambled, “this is causing dohyunie a lot of distress.”

you inhaled through your nose, “are you sure you’re not the one in distress babe?”

“um no. i’m just concerned for my son who’s missing his emotional support animal,” he answered in the most unconvincing way possible.

you sigh, “where was yoshi last seen?” you asked almost as if you were a detective. hoshi gestures to dohyun to tell you where yoshi was seen last.

“in my bed mama,” the toddler points a finger in the direction of his bed.

with your eyes, you follow dohyun’s finger to his bed and notice that the plush was indeed no longer on his bed. “and you’re sure yoshi’s not in this room?”

“so sure babe. we’ve looked everywhere i swear!” hoshi insists.

“okay than he’s probably somewhere around the house. c’mon let’s go look for him.” you tell the boys, grabbing ahold of your son’s tiny hand.

it was like a treasure hunt, the three of you marching around the house as the treasure hunters, and yoshi being the treasure itself. thoroughly checking every room in your home, the animal was nowhere to be found. the living room? nothing. the kitchen? empty. the office? nada! it was truly like yoshi disappeared in thin air.

“wait,” you look at your boys, who seemed worn out from all the hunting. “we haven’t checked the laundry room yet. it has to be in there.”

“oh my god,” he says. “your right yoshi must be in there!” hoshi runs to the room which yoshi should be hiding in, completely leaving you and your son behind.

rolling your eyes at him, you lift dohyun into your arms and make your way to the room. catching up to your husband, you see him standing in the doorway looking absolutely stunned. wanting to see for yourself, you peer into the laundry room. low and behold, yoshi was indeed in the room. but the thing is, he was in possession of latte, your dog. the stuffed animal was perched right next to latte in his dog bed.

“kwon latte! you naughty dog! how could you take dohyunie’s yoshi?” your husband scolded the puppy, snatching the stuffy back. he handed yoshi back to the two year old in your arms, who seemed completely unfazed by the situation.

then picking up latte, “latte, if you wanted a stuffed animal like dohyun, you could’ve just asked me.”

[i-love-ptv]

I Just Ride ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

(Prologue?)

Pairing: Knight!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Carrera!Reader

Wc: 719

An: Heyyyy guyssss…..So this was supposed to come out for HALLOWEEN but i got lazy n wrote other things.

I debated on posting this, i was thinking of making a series, but that depends on whether or not y’all want it! so lmk loves!

Feedback is always welcome and encouraged! <3

“This would be monumental for the family, Rafe!” Rafe’s father, Ward, exclaimed.

Rafe remains unsure of how long this conversation has been going on, he fears his horse will have passed on by the time his father decides to make his voice scarce.

Ward Cameron was one of the mightiest knights in all of Kildare Kingdom, if not the.

Everyone knew that he only cared about the family legacy; for the wealth that came from notoriety.

His eldest daughter, Sarah, was arranged to be wed to Prince Topper Thorton. —But it was painfully aware that her eyes lingered elsewhere, they always remained on the Thorton family’s jester, John Routledge.

Ward is even in the process of accommodating his youngest, Louisa, despite her constant protesting. All the young girl wanted was to become a knight, just like her big brother Rafe. But of course this behavior was not allowed in Ward’s book. No, Ward’s daughters need to be nothing but royalty, and the only way was through marriage.

Ward and Rafe’s step-mother Rose had an almost dictatorship-like relationship. Ward’s word goes, no matter what. Nobody even in the family dared to disobey his order.

Hence why, although he isn’t interested in the slightest, Rafe knew he wasn’t going to get out of it.

“Think about this, Rafe! You are already a knight, my son! Now you would just work for one family!” Ward shouted, growing more agitated by the second.

“Unfortunately for you, father, I am not interested,” Rafe maintained with a blank tone.

Ward huffs, raking his fingers through his hair frustratedly. “My word is final, that is it.”

“But-“ Rafe attempts to object.

“That is an order, Rafe! You are to serve the Carrera family, and provide them with the utmost respect,” Ward almost snarls.

He continues, “I wish not to hear another word about the matter, Rafe. Start packing, you will be residing there as well, they’ve offered you one of their spare rooms.”

Rafe stomps to his room, similar to how a young child would.

It’s not like he has a problem with the Carrera family, It’s quite the opposite actually. They treat him with such niceties that would make anyone fawn; since he was a Cameron and all.

The youngest, Kiara, albeit continuously holding a grudge towards Rafe, wasn't his main concern.

You, were his main concern.

You somehow always managed to have that twinkle in your eye, even when falling bored.

You always smiled at him brightly, and he knew that it wasn’t fake like the others’.

You held beauty unlike the rest; Rafe swears there could never be a time where you don’t look divinely ravishing.

He’s thought about writing you a letter, confessing his admiration for you and his want to have your hand in marriage.

Unfortunately, the Cameron boy knew that seeking a relationship with you was futile. After all, was just a mere knight, and you deserved to be married to a man of royalty; since wealth was no issue for Rafe.

Rafe doesn’t know if he’d even be able to handle being in the same vicinity as you, let alone guard you and take up your sacred space.

The thought alone makes his stomach fill with the flutters left behind by butterflies, but he also feels giddy, believe it or not.

He’d be able to see you freshly from your slumber.

….That's rather strange, isn’t it?

It’s not like he was an odd stalker of some sort, he just wanted to be bare witness to the beauty you behold, especially when you rouse from your nightly escapades.

The mere thought of being in your presence makes his heart pound against his chest. The tight feeling makes him reach his arm out and grip his nightstand for stability, as he drops onto his bed.

It’s late now, and despite his urge to just succumb to slumber. Rafe packs his bag, which will reside on his horse tomorrow morning.

Once he’s done, he flops onto his bed, resting under the covers on his back, looking at the ceiling in thought.

‘How would this transpire? Only a god would know,’ he thinks to himself. He thinks about praying, although he doesn’t really have the words in his throat.

Rafe finally rests his head on his pillow, and hopes for the best.

[annwrites]

— gwayne hightower quotes ⊱⚜⊰ | the fox & the flower

❝I’m most adept at acquiring secrets from comely young maidens. I’ve yet to meet one which is a match for my silver tongue.❞

❝Would you care to dance? I’ve a difficult time believing you decided to attend merely to spectate. And to let a jewel as rare as you stand to the side as a wallflower all night would be a waste indeed.❞

❝So,❞ he says. ❝It is up to us to be whomever we wish to be tonight. To make our story as we want it. Tell me, my lovely lady, who are you?❞

❝It seems to me we should make the absolute most of this evening we share, then, should we not? Before you are stolen away from me come the morn.❞

❝And I do not intend to part with my quarry until she disappears into a fit of white feathers, leaving me heartbroken and yearning once more.❞

❝I've yet to hear a complaint in regards to my...chivalrous nature. I do so love to tend to damsels in distress.❞

❝I would never harm a woman. Nothing occurs between us tonight that you do not wish. I give you my word. I want only those who want me in return.❞

❝Have you ever considered allowing those perfect feathers to be ruffled, my little swan maiden?❞

❝There are other lips I might pleasure on your body.❞

❝It is just the two of us. I wish for tonight to be all you want it to.❞

❝Let me touch you. I beg of you.❞ (...) ❝Let me please you. End my agony, My Lady.❞

❝There you are, darling, show yourself to me. Allow me to see it. Let me watch you.❞

❝Gods, you are magnificent, aren't you? An astounding spectacle to behold, My Lady.❞

❝I must know who you are. Who it is which I've held in my arms all night. Who it is that I've had the pleasure of pleasing by mine own hand.❞

❝I make you this solemn vow, My Lady: I will guard the secret which is your identity with all that I am. That this night—our brief love story—shall follow me to my grave. None shall know, I assure you. You've my word. And my word is my bond.❞

❝Pleasure to meet you, niece.❞

❝What a prize it is.❞

❝May I not look upon beautiful things?❞

❝I’d considered that, perhaps, I might keep you warm. It would be a great travesty for my darling niece to catch cold while under my protection, would it not? And so early in her trip, at that.❞

❝Perhaps we just allow ourselves a bit of indulgence, just as we did that night.❞ (...) ❝Nothing more than…courtly romance. All very prim and proper, for your sake, of course—I know how precious your virtue is—just enough to titillate.❞

❝I fancy you. I cannot…move past that evening. How we met. Who I initially thought you to be. I know you are my niece. I do. I just…instead choose to see you as a comely young woman who brings me joy. And I merely wish to return the favor and the feelings you stir within me.❞

❝No. You are my niece. My family. My blood.❞ (...) ❝My princess. But also a woman who takes my breath away. Who, despite my absolute best efforts, I cannot manage to get out of my fucking head. All I do is want for you.❞

❝It is not as if I have any shortage of female suitors. But… They, like with your own, see me for what I am. Not whom. A man of a great house, son of the Hand of the King, brother to the queen, a gallant knight who has won many a joust, a future statesman. The list rows on.❞ (...) ❝But when I am with you… For the first time in all my life, I am merely Gwayne. Mayhaps uncle as well, but that is it. A familial bond is far more meaningful to me than a title bestowed upon me in an attempt to garner glory and notoriety.❞

❝Do I not make you feel the same? Do I not make you forget what you are, while instead reminding you of who?❞

❝I believe in the Gods and pray to them myself. But, let me ask you something: in all your life of confiding in them, have they ever granted you that which you most desire? That which will bring you joy, and save you from your solitude and woe? Or, have they, instead, remained silent pillars of stone?❞ (...) ❝Who is to say that this—what we've found—each other, is not a gift from them? It is said they work in mysterious ways. Mayhaps this is their answer to your prayers and mine own: bringing the two of us together in such a manner.❞

❝So help me Gods, Alicent. You will either give her to me to take to wife, or I will take her from you.❞

❝Please, sister, I beg of you. I adore her. I worship her. Let me make this right. Allow us to wed so none may know.❞

❝I do what I do for the good of her: the young woman I love. Do you not think it better she wed me, as opposed to some elderly stranger?❞

[ladykailitha]

The Last Dragon Slayer

This is what my brain gets up when I'm sick and can't sleep.

Enjoy!

~

50 years prior there were a rise in dragon habitations and to combat what the humans saw was an infestation trained dragon slayers.

But the profession is dying out as most of the evil dragons have been slain, and those that try are beat back by their own kind.

In a small kingdom the evil King Richard wants to get rid of the dragon that has taken residence in the mountain nearby.

So he hunts around to find that all the dragon slayers have died or retired long since.

All but one. Sir Steven of Harring's Town. He is a disgraced prince whose mother was eaten by a dragon shortly after his birth and has vowed to find and kill the creature.

The King almost turns him away when he arrives. He is thin, almost too thin to hold up his armor, his horse is on its last legs. His sword is chipped with many battles and held together with leather and tattered silk.

It's clear this man has not known a decent meal in a really long time.

But the dragon must be dealt with.

So the king feeds Sir Steve up for a couple of days so that he at least has the strength to draw his sword and sends off, pointing in the direction of the beast's mountain.

The dragon, Edgewraith, is black dragon with red eyes, claws, and underscales.

He is quite fearsome to behold.

He watches as this piteous creature stumbles off his aging horse and struggles up to the cave entrance.

"How desperate King Richard must be," Edgewraith hisses, smoke and spark spilling from his mouth. “To send me you."

Sir Steven pulls off his helmet and throws it to the ground. "I am the last dragon slayer, monster. All I ask is a shift death and that you mount my head on a spike in front of your cave announcing my demise."

Edgewraith is startled but before he could even form a response, the knight faints.

Two weeks later Sir Steve wakes to find the most beautiful man standing over him with a cup of broth. He has long dark curls and reddish brown eyes. Sir Steven falls in love almost immediately.

Eddie, as the man introduces himself, tells him that no one will come looking for him, as the dragon has spelled a skull to look like his visage and done as he asked.

Sir Steve is dead as far as the world knows.

Steve cries in relief.

The two slowly get to know each other and fall in love.

But before they can make love for the first time, Eddie reveals himself to be the dragon, Edgewraith.

Steve replies that he figured it out a long time ago and didn't mind. He took care of him when no one else would. Of course he fell in love with him.

Eddie knows that they can't couple, because of how hot he runs but one day a stray ember hits Steve in the leg but he doesn't call out in pain.

He picks it up and tosses it neatly into the fire. Once while making dinner for them both, Steve slips with the knife, but he doesn't bleed.

So Eddie starts pressing Steve a bit more about the dragon that supposedly ate his mother. All the villagers had described it as breathtaking. Bright bronze scales on top and warm brown eyes, claws, and underscale.

Eddie knows who this is and sends out the call.

Mirrorsong arrives and when she sees Steve instantly transforms.

"Mother?" Steve cries because the castle had paintings of his mother everywhere and he even kept a miniature he had painted himself with him at all times.

She runs to him and tells him the truth.

She fell in love with his father and married him. But when she gave birth to Steven, her insides burned the midwife's arms, nearly killing her. When the king learned this he banished his wife and raised her son as a dragon slayer.

Steve learns that while he can't change shape like Eddie and Mira, he cannot be hurt and he will live a long life. Maybe not as long as Eddie, but they have centuries instead of decades now.

The old king dies and the new king is kinder.All the kids like to go up to the mountain to play with the two strangers who protect their town.

And everyone lives happily ever after.

[messymoonmad]

Not sure if you've listened to this part of the odyssey yet but after seeing your art this one passage from the odyssey has been torturing me

"Then Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her: “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, be of good cheer, and let not things distress thy heart. That man lives not, nor shall live, nor shall ever be born, who shall lay hands upon thy son Telemachus while I live and behold the light upon the earth. For thus will I speak out to thee, and verily it shall be brought to pass. Quickly shall that man's black blood flow forth about my spear; for of a truth me, too, did Odysseus the sacker of cities often set upon his knees, and put roast meat in my hands, and hold to my lips red wine. Therefore Telemachus is far the dearest of all men to me, and I bid him have no fear of death, at least from the wooers; but from the gods can no man avoid it.”

[448] Thus he spoke to cheer her, but against that son he was himself plotting death."

(Book 16 Murray translation)

imagine odysseus during hold them down, stringing his bow, turning around and seeing a boy,now man, he used to sit on his knees plotting to kill his son and assault his wife. Every other suitor he is just angry at but with eurymachus he is betrayed and upset. (Either that or he's flabbergasted, like "boy you used to drool all over my shirt. What are doing acting all tough)

Also what if as eurymachus dies, he looks into odysseus face and starts to feel guilty.

I love you cause i did base my design and hc off the odyssey (i listen to an audiobook with samuel butler's translation playlist on youtube) and THAT PART YOU JUST WROTE I LOVE

Cause my genuine reaction was "oh thats cute one of them suitors is actually kind and protective of telemac-" and then the narration goes "thus he spoke to cheer her but against that son he plotted death" I WAS SHOCKED at his hypocrisy cause i really fell for it.

Also in book 23 or 24 antinous mentions that he has seen odysseus when he was a little boy and it just makes me wanna draw them (anti and eurym) back when they were young probably comming to ithica as guests (with their parents) and they used to admire him but as they grew up that admiration turned into envy and they became greedy

[customboytoyz]

not horny but i can't think of anyone else better suited to share this with. i went to the barber for the first time in many, many years the other day. my barber spoke to me in english but everyone in the shop were spanish speakers. but i didn't give myself away as a fellow spanish speaker just yet cause i wanted to get a sense of the vibes, yknow? and lo and behold, one of the older men running the shop immediately started riding my guy's ass about cutting my hair the way he was. "what the hell are you doing mi hijo, no woman would want this!" the old man said. i thought for sure there was about to be a major problem. but instead my barber replied seamlessly, "but look at the face."

i was smiling in the mirror without even realizing it. and when the barber and i met eyes in the glass he knew i understood what they were saying, because i smiled even bigger. "clearly, this 'woman' wants it."

he then shooed the old man away to go bother his other sons, and my barber just kept cutting without saying a word. i didn't have to out myself or defend myself or anything. for that 45mins, i got the kind of tio i always wanted... and a pretty sick fade <3 gave the guy a 30% and thanked him in spanish on my way out. old man was mortified and barber was smiling as i left. waahh <3

this literally got me smiling so hard stopppp omfg 😭

[emathevampire]

An old D&D character of mine, aesthetically Xaela works for him quite well (he isn’t supposed to have a tail, and is supposed to have wings and heavier scales. also ears. the heck, au ra) but not lore wise at all (and the lore also had to be tailored a bit to fit the new setting). He’s the son of a dragon father and a human mother from an age long past (and probably another world just to further account for lore discrepancies), a prince who ruled a small country with his twin brother. Known for his death-defying rage and lust for battle, his enemies struggled to find a way to deal with the threat he posed, and it took an especially powerful black mage tearing open a massive rift to the void on the battlefield to finally defeat him... even if all this really did was push their problem somewhere else. Though he tried to find a way back over the next unknowable number of years, the void twisted and corrupted him until he forgot all sense of purpose and self and believed himself to be a demon… but fortunately, one day Hydaelyn managed to drag him out of there, the echo helped him recover his memories, and here we are now: Askalaphos Areios, Warrior of Light.

So, a half-dragon human twisted by the void… not exactly something that character creation will just let me have, but I made do. Dragoon/Dark Knight worked perfectly for him, though.

My mood is down, so:

FFXIV tumblr, show me/ tell me about your characters who do not fit neatly into the in-game playable races! Any character whose race is not simply "an Elezen" or "a Hyur", etc.

[starscabaret]

☆Meeting Yandere! Vincent ☆

pairing: yandere! Vincent x fem reader 

summary: Meeting Vinny <333

warnings: n/a 

authors note: 

Vincent had brushed into the small town a few months earlier on a contract for his engineering firm. The job paid well and he had little to no attachment anywhere so he made the move. He lived in an upscale condo about 30 minutes out from the actual town he’d be working in. Paid for by the company of course. 

He had a routine, call mom once a week, send a letter once a month, go to work every weekday, go to the gym every weekday, grocery shop on Sundays, and get a haircut every 3 weeks. Not much changed for him really unless it was necessary. 

He liked it that way, in his free time he drew, invested, and dabbled in a few books and tv. He wouldn’t call himself the happiest man alive, but he was getting by, and his mom was doing well. That’s all he ever wanted. 

Just like any other day on the job site Vincent set in his small office inside the mobile trailer going over blueprints and whatnot. That is until you came banging on the flimsy trailer door. Vincent thought the damn police were here. Lo and Behold when he opened the door there you were in pajamas, and slippers, and sleep still in your eyes. 

As soon as the door opened you spoke, “Look man, I really was nice at first and didn’t say anything but do y’all have to be so loud at 7 am? It’s waking me and my son.”

Vincent stood there deadpan he didn’t know what to reply. There was nothing he could really do to delay construction in the early hours without derailing the whole project. And normally he would have slammed the door in your face had it been anyone else. But you, you made his heart beat fast and he blanked on a response. Besides the fact that he was a man of very few words.

“Come in.” He said as he pulled you into the office like trailer.

“You seem to be the boss sir, is there anything you can do?” You said while rubbing your eyes.

“You must live in the house a few acres over, what’s your name?” He spoke low and grumbly.

“Yeah I do, it’s a family house but no one gives a shit anymore. All moved off to the big city, scared of the water. Oh, Im f/n l/n” you replied in an annoyed tone.  

“I can’t tell them to halt all work in the morning is there anything I can do instead?” He asked, wanting to remedy this. He didn’t want to upset you. You were alluring to him. This was also the most he had spoken to anyone in days.

“You come to explain to my son why you’re disrupting his sleep!” you said with irritation in your voice.

When Vincent got to your home to apologize to your son, he was met with Ben. Ben was a 3-year-old beautiful Doberman. 

Vincent was a bit relieved it was a dog and not a child, as he was already daydreaming about how he would give you your first child.

Vincent didn’t speak much or have the best social skills but he knew that his interest in you wasn’t normal. Nor did he know how to express such interest.

Good thing you found him handsome, and took interest in his quiet reserved demeanor. You had to know more, you had to dig past the surface. You were bold and willing to take charge and make the moves. You had never seen a man like him in your town before, or anywhere for that matter. 

You were happy you went and complained that morning. Who said complaining didn’t get you anywhere?

[syndrossi]

Resonant Trick or Treat Fill #14: Ser Kelwyn's first impressions

The sight of a dragon flying overhead was rare. In all his years in the Saltpans, Kelwyn could recall half a dozen such flights, each of them humbling to behold. The first two had been the king and queen’s mounts, bronze and silver, some three decades ago. Another two had passed overhead years later, Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon, with the famed Vhagar casting a shadow wide enough to swallow entire houses. Prince Aemon’s mount, the much smaller Caraxes, had seemed a child in comparison.

All dragon sightings since had been the Blood Wyrm, his size growing with the years, though his rider had changed. With Prince Daemon wed to Lady Royce of Runestone, it was not so surprising that his path might occasionally cross over the Saltpans.

This time, however, the Blood Wyrm approached from the northwest, circling slowly. And sharp-eyed guardsmen atop the towers of the Castle Cox had reported signs of smoke—then a small group approaching on foot.

Lord Cox was a canny man who had done much to improve his family’s standing since his father had earned his title supporting King Jaehaerys against Maegor the Cruel. He had swiftly concluded that Prince Daemon must be on foot, perhaps wounded, with company—and the household had set a frenetic pace making preparations for his expected arrival.

And so Kelwyn had been summoned to meet the prince on the road, along with young Ser Stennic, to render any necessary aid. They rode at a brisk pace, Stennic’s neck craning upward every few seconds to take in the dragon flying overhead. Kelwyn did not blame him. They were closer to the dragon than most men would ever be in their lifetime.

As they drew closer to the group on foot, it became clear that Prince Daemon was in the company of children, and Kelwyn wracked his memory for whether the prince had any of his own. He did not think so, but with the way the sun glinted pale silver off the crown of one child’s head, he was beginning to doubt himself.

The other child was injured, he soon realized, the cloth of a splint light against his arm. Prince Daemon was clearly keeping his pace slow so as not to tax the child. Kelwyn glanced past them, to the smoke in the distance.

What happened? Who would dare attack a Targaryen child, much less with his father’s dragon nearby?

When he and Stennic were finally upon them, it was clear that something truly harrowing had transpired. Both children were pale and wary-eyed beneath streaks of soot, their clothing burned in places, though they appeared to have escaped any burns themselves. The dark-haired child’s expression tugged at his heart, one of determination worn thin by pain, the clench of his jaw better suited to a wounded soldier than an innocent child.

Prince Daemon, meanwhile, had the bearing of a man nearing some threshold. One arm held a cloth-wrapped bundle, while his free hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, as though he might draw upon any who drew too close. His hair, even braided, was dull and tangled, suggesting that he had been on the road—or air, Kelwyn supposed—for days on end, without stopping.

Whatever had happened, this would require a delicate touch.

“My prince,” Kelwyn said with a bow from atop his horse. “Lord Cox bids you welcome to the Saltpans, and eagerly extends the hospitality of his keep to you.”

Prince Daemon looked them over, some of that tension easing, though not wholly. “A traitor to the crown rode in this direction, by name of Marten Crayne,” he said tersely. “He kidnapped my sons and fled at my approach. If he has entered the town, I would have him arrested.” He looked toward the pale-haired child. “Can you describe the man?”

A kidnapping? Kelwyn quickly gathered his reeling wits at the revelation, though he was freshly caught off guard by the young prince’s comprehensive description, rattled off with a composure many grown knights would envy. And that after having been rescued from captivity!

Stennic hastened back to the town to carry word of the fleeing kidnapper and his ship. Kelwyn remained behind, unwilling to leave their three unexpected royal guests unguarded after so heinous a plot. Prince Daemon remained on edge, even as he detailed his needs. Kelwyn knew Lord Cox would already be preparing appropriate chambers, and the maester could be spurred into action as soon as they arrived. 

They were still fifteen minutes away on foot, and Prince Daemon had turned down his offer to lend him his horse. His elder son, Jon, had suffered broken ribs during his captivity and could not ride.

So that is why he is not on dragonback. Kelwyn looked up at the red dragon overhead, flying vigilant circles around them. He shook his head then. What lowlife would strike a royal child hard enough to crack ribs?

His offer to take the other child, Raymar, was also refused. Raymar did not appear injured, but the mere suggestion had caused Prince Daemon to reach for the child instinctively. The tale emerged during the walk to town, of the week the young princes had spent as captives of this Marten Crayne, and Prince Daemon’s frantic search from the air.

Thank the gods they were not taken from the Saltpans. Whichever lord had been careless enough in his guard to allow the boys to be taken would surely find himself the target of the king’s displeasure.

The children spoke little after Raymar’s lengthy report, their exhaustion plain. Kelwyn hoped they had suffered no other indignities at the hands of their kidnapper. He would have expected tears and whimpers at the end of such an ordeal, not this eerie, stoic silence.

Kelwyn would have dismissed it as Targaryen strangeness, except that Prince Daemon seemed worried as well, filling the quiet with soothing words, promises of a warm meal and a hot bath, a soft bed. That his voice could be so gentle when his eyes held murder was a feat in itself.

When word arrived that the Dancing Myr had fled ahead of word arriving to detain them, Prince Daemon’s jaw clenched, as though he were swallowing a scream. Overhead, his dragon let out a threatening roar, audible even within the walls of the castle.

Kelwyn found himself in the role of chosen protector, tasked with finding three other worthy souls to stand vigil outside Lady Cox’s former bedchamber. He caught only glimpses of the young princes, the most startling one when the bundle Raymar had carried in his arms throughout the walk, which had been partly obscured by cloth, had been unwrapped to reveal a dragon egg, which Prince Daemon had helped him set beside the fire. And not just one—there was another that must have been what Prince Daemon had been holding in his other arm.

A royal kidnapping, a dragon rescue, and now Castle Cox plays host to three princes and two dragon eggs. It was as though he had stumbled into a minstrel’s song, and Kelwyn had the feeling that the intrigues would not stop there, which meant that his protection would have to extend beyond merely the physical. The attacks on incoming ravens took on a sinister new implication.

The children may not have been kidnapped from here, but we were almost certainly the kidnapper’s intended destination to spirit them away by ship.

Lord Cox’s page was kept busy all throughout the evening as Kelwyn coordinated the search for the fleeing ship, along with any sailors who might have remained behind, while keeping half an eye on the door to the room, which saw servants passing through frequently early on as their royal visitors were fed, then provided baths.

Kelwyn looked in at one point, after the bath water had been lugged away from the large tub, and immediately found himself fixed by a wild stare from Prince Daemon, who had moved a chair near the doorway to set up a watch of his own.

“Is there anything you require, my prince?” Kelwyn asked, keeping his voice low. Glancing past the prince, he could see the two children settled into one of the beds, the blankets pulled up over them. And his gaze could not help but be drawn to the oval shapes of the dragon eggs, dark in front of the fire.

“I shall keep watch from within,” Prince Daemon said, settling back in his chair. His hair was still wild and tangled. He must not have availed himself of the bath. And although he had washed his face, it only made clearer the lines of weariness, the shadows beneath his eyes.

His nerves balance upon the edge of a knife.

From what the prince had shared after supper, it was little wonder. Kelwyn could still scarcely believe that Lady Royce, renowned for her honor and justice, could have carried out such a bold treason. She had not even hidden her children far from where anyone would look—they had been passed off as her own nephews, orphans at the Gates of the Moon.

The king’s brother had lost his wife and learned that he was a father and that his sons had been kidnapped all in a single day. By the looks of it, he had hardly slept since. And after such tireless searching, to find that they had been mistreated so…

“We shall let no one through this door,” Kelwyn said, bowing his head.

The words barely seemed to reach Prince Daemon, only a slow nod confirming he had heard them at all, and Kelwyn drew the door to a gentle close.