#and he wants this oc to be his heir and shit

[nuks]

rich / prodigal son / daddy issues / arrogant and egotistical tony stark slash early steve harrington coded oc… inspired by rät by penelope scott too…

[musubiki]

some healer oscar + madam springs concept doodles!!

[imogenkol]

KINCADE PACK 🐺 (original works) — “The name goes back centuries, and all Miranda cares about is making sure it lasts for many more”

[template by @tommyarashikage]

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @simonxriley @voidika @kyberinfinitygems @voidbuggg @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @a-treides @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @leviiackrman @strangefable @jacobseed

[otaku553]

Some goodnotes oc doobles!

[novococain]

🦴

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Angst factor for this is thru the roof! And guess what? It's a series! I'm thinking this is going to have at least 3 parts. Masterlist

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), eventual smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker! Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC.

Chapter 1:

“I'm going home, find some other dumb whore to fuck.” You spat, flipping the blankets off your body and making to get out of the platinum blonde’s bed.

“Darling, don't be rash. Come back to bed.” Coriolanus told you, reaching his long arm out and wrapping his large hand around your wrist before you could truly move away from the bed.

“Come back to bed after you just told me that you're going to marry Livia Cardew?!” You screamed at him, feeling like you wanted to yank his pretty platinum blond curls right out of his head. “Are you nuts, Coriolanus?”

The man, whose beauty rivaled that of the Roman and Greek gods, narrowed his baby blues at you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he told you, “Stop overreacting, darling. It's an arranged marriage that doesn't mean anything.”

You arched a brow and tilted your head at him. “Oh, so that's supposed to make me feel better? Make everything okay?” You sarcastically asked, yanking your arm out of his grasp and flying out of his bed.

His king sized bed with the luxurious crimson satin sheets that you'll never inhabit again.

“Y/N-” Coriolanus began, only for you to loudly cut him off with a shriek of, “Don't, Coriolanus. Don't say a fucking word to me.” Shaking your head, you ironically scoffed, “I should've seen this coming. After all these years of sneaking around with you, I should've known that you'd pick some rich bitch to marry and have a family with.” Gathering your clothes, that were scattered all over the room, you heartbrokenly spat, “Not your poor neighbor girl that's only good for a good fuck whenever you're bored or need to get some pent up aggression out.”

“You're not-” Coriolanus began, icy blue eyes softening with an unchecked emotion (perhaps guilt?), as he watched you toss your things on the white rose upholstered bench at the foot of his bed.

“I love you, Coriolanus.” You softly sighed, barely loud enough for him to hear, while tossing your ruined lace panties at him. What use were the lacey things all torn to shreds?

Not much.

You grabbed your matching lace bra, quickly putting it on, while muttering, "I foolishly fell in love with you and you don't give a shit about me.” You’re on the verge of tears as you grab your dress. While pulling on your dress, you sadly sighed, “Never did and never will, but I guess I was hoping that maybe you would, but I was such a dumbass.”

Your words hit Coriolanus hard, like a 2x4 in the head hard. He never knew that you felt like this. Crawling over to the end of the bed, causing his pure white silk duvet to pool and crinkle around him, he reached out and took your hand in his before you could turn away to grab your heels. He looked at your face, silently willing you to look into his icy blue eyes (but you refused to give him the satisfaction- that manipulative fuck).

But maybe if you would've looked at his eyes you would've seen that they weren't gleaming or shining. That his icy blue eyes were dead and empty, like those of a shark.

Giving up on you looking at him, the platinum blonde man (who had his political dreams within reach) began to tell you in a velvety tone, “My darling rose, you’re not a dumbass. I'm sorry you're hurt, but-'”

But before he could continue his lies (Are they lies? Who knows, but you think they are.) you cut him off with, “Don't even finish your sentence. Just shut the fuck up and let me leave with whatever little piece of dignity I have left.”, while forcefully yanking your hand out of his.

“I won't shut the fuck up because I don't want you to leave.” Coriolanus told you, scrambling out of the bed, his long legs nearly tripping him as he chased after you.

You’re grabbing your heels as he tries to reason with you. “Announcing my engagement with Livia and marrying her is so I can gain political allies and power. It has nothing to do with love, in fact I hate her.” While sliding on your black kitten heels, a pricey designer pair with red sole bottoms- a gift from him (probably for your services…), he placed one of his large calloused hands on your shoulder. Coriolanus’ baritone was softer than usual as he revealed, “I want to be with you.”

“You don't want to be with me, you just want me as your mistress so you can have your kinky fucks.” You told him, pushing his hand off of your shoulder. Marching over to his dresser and grabbing your bag (some imported designer leather tote bag- dyed a deep shade of crimson- he gave you, most likely because you let him do whatever he wants to you between the sheets), you told him the blunt truth of, “You don't love me and I'm not going to stick by your side as your mistress.” Shouldering your bag, that matched the color of the manicure you just had done (which he insisted on paying for), you declared, “I deserve somebody to love me with their whole heart, not just their dick, so I'm leaving and never coming back.”

“Please, don't leave.” You heard him say as you walked out of his room.

“Please, baby, don't leave me!” He frantically begged, his voice a loud shout, as he followed you down the hall in a run. Barefeet loudly slapping against the marble floor, sounding almost ominous.

Thank goodness his Grandma’am's hearing was starting to go bad, otherwise she'd be waking up and seeing one hell of a show. Also, thank goodness Tigress moved out years ago, otherwise she'd be a witness to a messy breakup.

A breakup that was long overdue.

You ignored him, only to power walk to the main entrance of the penthouse. You were almost to the door whenever you felt his cold, long fingers wrap around your wrist like an octopus’ tentacles.

“Please, stay the night. We can discuss this in the morning, just-just don't leave me, little dove.” You heard him beg, sounding so unlike his confident self.

A part of you wanted to give in; turn around and melt into his arms. But another part of you, the part that has grown up with Coriolanus and has seen him manipulate everyone around him knew that he was just saying whatever he has to in order to pull your puppet strings; make you stay.

You decided not to turn around, not to give into him. Instead you roughly pulled yourself free of his hold and walked out the door.

You knew that the platinum blonde wouldn't dare follow you, since running after you naked with his well hung junk swinging in the wind would be scandalous.

Unknown to you, after you walked out the door and slammed it shut in his face, Coriolanus quickly ran to his room and tossed on his diagarded pants and shirt from the evening. He ran out the door, barefoot and still buttoning up his wrinkled shirt, in hopes of catching you in the lobby.

Since you were in the only elevator the building has, he ran down the 12 flights of exquisite marble stairs to reach the lobby. Nearly slipping and busting his ass a couple of times too.

But when he reached the lobby it was too late, you were getting into the back of a cab you hailed. As Coriolanus ran to the door of the lobby, he felt his cold, dead, black, too small of a heart shatter into a million pieces as he watched you close the cab’s door with tears shining like diamonds in your eyes.

Seeing you crying in the back of the cab while leaving him, something he knew that neither of you wanted, made him determined to get you back.

If he thought that Lucy Gray betraying and leaving him hurt, well you leaving him because you felt that he couldn't reciprocate your feelings of love (because he was going to have an arranged marriage with Livia Cardew for political reasons) gutted him. Made him feel like he wanted to die.

Coriolanus wanted you; he always has. It's why you've been together, on-off, since your freshman year at the Academy.

He has to woo you back. He just has to.

Because the thought of you moving on with another man just doesn't sit right with him.

It doesn't matter that Coriolanus’ engagement with Livia Cardew will be publicly announced soon, he needs you back.

He can't have another bird of his flying away, can he?

Ending your decade long on-off situationship with the Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow hurt. Oh gods, it hurt so fucking bad! You felt like you’re just going thru the motions everyday after the breakup. Like you’re just surviving, not truly living, since you’re so sad.

So heartbroken.

And what hurts the most was that, even tho you knew you could never truly be with him, you still love him.

And you'll probably always love him in a way, even tho he'll never love you. Because he's your first love; they say you never forget your first love. That you'll always have a special spot on your heart carved out just for them.

So when you saw the engagement announcement for Livia Cardew and Coriolanus Snow in the social pages of the newspaper, you thought you were going to be sick.

The picture used for the announcement was professionally done; made the newly engaged couple look so lovely together. It made you sad to say, but they did make quite a match.

Two golden lions, regal with the world at their feet. Their blonde hair, her's a dirty golden shade and his a near white platinum blonde, styled impeccably set off their beauty. A beauty that was showcased in matching black outfits, hers a black tea dress with flowing sleeves and his a 3-piece suit with a red/black striped tie.

They looked every bit a couple of the old guard. A couple worthy of money, glory, and power. You're positive that Grandma'am’s proud of him.

If only you knew how she really felt. How Grandma'am Snow always thought that it'd be you and her grandson posting an engagement announcement in the social section of the newspaper. How she's so disappointed at Coriolanus for picking a heinous bitch instead of you, a girl who's soul reminds her so much of her beloved late daughter-in-law (Coriolanus' mother).

Then you couldn't help, but think that maybe Livia’s better for Coriolanus. Better than you are for him. Maybe he'd be happier with her than with you. After all, she came with the largest bank of Panem attached to her name and you came with nothing. You had no money or jewels to offer, just yourself.

And you weren't good enough for him.

Coriolanus Snow always craved power, wealth, and prestige. None of which you could offer him. None of which you gave a shit about.

All you wanted was to be loved, but he couldn't do that for you. All the cold hearted schemer could do was buy you fancy, luxurious, expensive things.

You had no idea that gifting was his love language. That he enjoyed seeing your face light up when he presented you with some gift that you'd never be able to afford on your own. He got pleasure out of spoiling you; taking care of you.

Unfortunately for him, you’re tired of being a kept woman. You don't want him to buy you a bunch of high end things. You want him and since he can't give you his love, you left. You decided to move on.

Which is why you blocked his number, because you had to move on and find somebody that you would be more than enough for. And you couldn't do that with him blowing up your phone constantly. You also started looking for a new apartment, because you couldn't keep having him dropping off roses at your doorstep all the time.

And since your mother to lived on the 8th floor of Corso apartment the Snow penthouse was in, it was a chore to avoid Coriolanus. So, to avoid any drama with him, you had to find a new apartment. You mother agreed; told you that to make a clean break you needed to leave the area. Move on from the part of town you were raised in; lived in.

You needed to fly on your own wings.

At least your job on the marketing team for Odair Luxury Cruises was safe from him. And that job did come with a sweet perk of allowing employees the opportunity of affordable housing in a select few luxury apartments near the downtown Capitol office building the company was headquartered in.

So at least your apartment hunting wouldn't be too hard.

You were right, your apartment hunt wasn't hard at all. In fact, due to your employment at Odair Luxury Cruises, you were able to secure yourself a 4th floor apartment at the Luxe, right in the bustling downtown of Capitol City, Panem.

Apartment #455 to be exact.

It was a lovely apartment with a courtyard view. It had 9 foot ceilings and white kitchen cabinetry in what could only be a top of the line kitchen. The open layout of the kitchen and living space has a modern feel to it. The lone bedroom in the apartment was very spacious and even had a walk-in closet; the apartment had a small study as well.

It was definitely an upgrade from your mother's apartment, which was nice due to the Plinths fixing it up after buying the building and moving onto the 11th floor roughly 4 years ago. (Unknown to you, Strabo Plinth did the bare minimum repairs to your mother's apartment and furnished it because Coriolanus asked him -more like nagged him- to.)

You're Luxe apartment wasn't as lavish as the Corso penthouse Coriolanus shares with his Grandma’am (the same penthouse he used to bring you to for all of those booty calls over the years) but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that you thought your new apartment was amazing.

And after moving in, you stopped receiving roses at your doorstep. Thank the gods. But since your new building had a doorman, you knew that was the reason you didn't have any more stalkery type floral arrangements waiting for you at your threshold.

And roughly a week or so after moving into your new place, you met your neighbor from across the hall.

#454

It was a typical morning, you had a travel mug of coffee in your hand and was dressed professionally in a pencil skirt and blouse (of course you're wearing those damn kitten heels he who shall not be named- as your older brother’s girlfriend calls your ex-fling of sorts- got you.) as you stepped out into the hallway of your apartment. Usually you never saw your neighbor across the hall, but this morning he rushed out the door- his shaggy bronze hair rustling around his shoulders- and his stunning sea-green eyes locked onto yours.

“Why, you must be new. I've never seen you before.” The tall and extremely handsome man smiles flirtatiously at you. Crossing the hall, to stand in front of you, he introduced himself. “Name’s Odysseus Odair.” Doing a little bow, he smiled a bit too brightly, “The pleasure’s all mine, my abalone pearl.”

Holy shit, is the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises your neighbor and flirting with you right now? No. No, it couldn't be. This has to be a dream.

Except it's not a dream and the heir to a large cruise company in District 4 that's based in the Capitol is really your flirty and handsome neighbor.

“You're Poseidon Odair’s son, heir to Odair Luxury Cruises?” Was all you could manage to get out.

“Yes, that's me, but your name would've worked better for your part of the introduction.” He laughed, the sound similar to the kree-ar call a seagull makes. Shaking his head, causing his bronze hair to skirt around his collared dress shirt (which has a few of the buttons undone to show off his tan and toned chest) he teased, “Usually that's how introductions work, pretty pearl, cause I already know who I am and want to know who you are.”

“I'm Y/N Halvir; I only know who you are because I work in the marketing department for your father's company.”

“Yes, your name sounds familiar.” Odysseus nods with a bright, closed lip smile that makes his cheeks dimple. “You need a ride to the office? I was heading there myself.”

You shook your head, quickly turning down his offer. “Oh, no, I don't want to bother you.”

“Oh, trust me, you won't be a bother.” He said with a flirty glint in his sea-green eyes. “In fact, we’ll go to the corner cafe; get some coffee, donuts, and call it our first date.”

You couldn't help, but giggle at his proposition. He couldn't be serious, could he?

But the way his sunshine like smile was aimed towards you made you realize that he was serious.

Which is why you smiled back and said, “Okay, let's have our first date before work.”

Holding his arm out, like a gentleman, Odysseus winked. “I'll even take you out tonight for seafood.” A sultry look appeared in his eyes as he told you, “I’ll make sure that the dessert's a mouthwatering, delicious one for our second date.”

Odysseus' innuendo didn't go unnoticed by you. And after everything you've been thru with Coriolanus, along with being single for roughly a month now, you decided that it was time to stop pouting over somebody that doesn't give a shit about you.

That it was time to let somebody new have a chance at loving you.

“That sounds like a plan.” You smiled, walking down the hallway arm in arm with the tall bronze man that was sculpted like a Greek god of old. “I'll make sure to wear a nice dress for the occasion.”

“Yes, please do. Even if I'm not one for dressing up, the place I'm taking you to does have a dress code.”

“A dress code similar to Avelina's?” You asked, assuming that whatever fancy seafood place Odysseus was taking you too would be similar in fashion sense to the restaurant Coriolanus took you to every year for your birthday, once you turned 19. (Would've been nice to go there more than once a year, but you figured your ex was just too embarrassed to be seen out in public with you too much since you weren't off the same pedigree as him).

“Ugh, I hate that place. It's so stuffy; reeks of old money.” Odysseus complained as the elevator came into view. Shaking his head, he explained, “Ocean Prime's not a black tie affair dress code, like Avelina's, but more of a nice cocktail dress and button up type of dress code.” Coming to a stop at the elevator bank, he pressed the call button for it and asked, “Do you own the classic little black dress? If so, it'd be perfect for dinner tonight.”

Nodding, you simply told him, “I own one.”

And you only owned one because all of the cocktail dresses you owned were commissioned by Coriolanus- for his cousin Tigris to design and make- and they were all various shades of white, red, and pink. You only had one little black dress because you had bought it yourself, with your own hard earned money, off of a clearance rack. It wasn't anything fancy and you never wore it, since Coriolanus always wanted you to match him if and when he took you somewhere.

So, tonight your little black dress will finally get worn. Worn for your second date with a man who seems warm like sunshine with sea-green eyes that twinkle dreamily.

It's been nearly a month since you left Coriolanus and he's not taking it too well. He never thought that you'd truly leave him. He always just assumed that you'd be there.

He knows now that he took you for granted. It's something that he regrets everyday, whether he admits it or not.

And what gnaws at Coriolanus is how you ignored every single attempt he made to win you back. Blocking his number and moving to a new apartment, in his opinion, was an extreme way to avoid him.

Your bitch of a mother, who smoked more than a chimney and drank more than a fish, refused to give Coriolanus your new number. She also refused to tell him your new address. He literally had to pay off somebody in the HR department of Odair Luxury Cruises to get him your new info. Which turned out to be useless since the doorman at the Luxe apartments was very strict when it came to adhering to the wishes of the residents when it came to who was and wasn't allowed to visit or leave things for them and wouldn't let him pass the door. Even when he flashed a large wad of cash at the man, he still refused to budge.

Ugh, moral people were the boil on Coriolanus' ass.

Coriolanus was tempted to just show up and corner you at work, but he ended up deciding against it. But only because he had political ambitions and didn't want a scene to be caused (one that he feels you would cause) that could be damning to his image.

He was sacrificing so much for his political dreams. Listening to Strabo Plinth and getting engaged to Livia Cardew, to gain more wealth and some political goals. Because if he couldn't become a Senator and, of course, after that the President of Panem then wouldn't his greatest sacrifice- his loss of you, be all for nothing?

One afternoon Coriolanus was neck deep in work, but he found himself staring at a framed picture on his desk. It was a picture of the two of you. One that was taken at the Yule Ball during Senior year at the University. It was his favorite picture of the two of you, which is why he has it framed on his desk.

But before he could get lost in the memory of that night, a knock sounded at his office door. Tearing his gaze off of the picture frame, he looked up to the door and simply said, “Come in.”

“Sir, your fiance's here to see you.” Coriolanus' personal secretary, a middle-aged woman who's hot pink lipstick matched her pixie cut, informed him while walking into the office.

“About what, Marge?” Asked Coriolanus while blinking his eyes- attempting to soothe the pain in them from the hot pink overload he was experiencing.

His corneas couldn't handle looking at his secretary’s hot pink paisley print dress since it made her hair stand out more. He also tried not to stare at his employee too rudely while noticing her fuchsia dyed eyebrows and matching pink mascara- that oddly framed a natural eyelid.

Averting his eyes back to his computer, (*cough* his framed picture of you *cough*) Coriolanus told Marge, “I'm busy; I don't have time to deal with her petty antics today.”

“I know that, Sir. I even told Miss Cardew that you're very busy planning the upcoming games, but she wouldn't hear it. She's demanding that I buzz her in; let her see you.”

“Well, don't.” Coriolanus told his secretary because the last thing he wanted to do was talk to his fiance, Livia Cardew.

Gods, how he hated that woman.

“What do you want me to tell her then, Sir?” Marge asked.

“That I'm in a meeting and can't see her at the moment.”

“Okay, but what kind of meeting?” The secretary asked, knowing full well that the dirty blonde Tasmanian devil of a woman out in the lobby would ream her out if she didn't have any details to give her. Saying in a meeting wouldn't suffice that shrew.

“Tell her I'm networking with somebody about the mass installation of mandatory TVs in the districts.” The cold, callous, platinum blonde man said without skipping a beat.

“I thought you successfully had that meeting yesterday?” The secretary asked in a tone that implied she knew her boss was a cunning piece of shit.

“I did, but she doesn't know that.” Coriolanus smirked.

“No, I suppose she doesn't.” Marge giggled. A giddy look took over the middle aged woman's face as she told her boss, “I saw Miss Halvir last night at Ocean’s Prime. It's a seafood restaurant.”

“What's she doing there? She can't afford it with what she makes working in the marketing department of that District 4 based cruise line.” Coriolanus scoffed. Giving his personal secretary a curious look, he asked, “And what were you doing there? I know you can't afford a place like that either.”

Marge fought hard to keep herself from rolling her fuschia framed eyes at Mr. Snow's offhand remarks about money. What both she and you couldn't afford. With a fake and forced smile, she told the imposing platinum blonde, “I was there because my daughter and her partner just celebrated their one year anniversary; the reason for Miss Halvir being there was that she was out on a date.”

“A DATE?!” Coriolanus asked in a loud roar.

A date. How dare you go out on a date. You're not supposed to be going out on dates. You're supposed to be his.

Despite being separated for nearly a month, you still belong to him. Hell, he took your virginity when you both were green kids at the Academy. As far as he's concerned, he owns your pussy.

“Yes, a date.” The bright pink-haired secretary confirmed before telling her boss, “With Odysseus Odair, the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Coriolanus loudly cursed, his icy blue eyes blazing with white hot anger.

You went out on a date to some high priced seafood (Since when did you eat seafood, other than those oysters rockefeller appetizers he orders for you two when he takes you to Avelina's for your birthday?) restaurant with Odair- the biggest manwhore in all of the Capitol! 

What the hell's wrong with you? You accuse him of not loving you, of just wanting you for kinky sexy, but here you are going out on a date with Odysseus Odair. The biggest fuck ‘em and leave ‘em guy in the Capitol. Hell, probably in all of Panem.

Marge was taken aback by her boss's reaction to finding out that you were on a date with Odysseus Odair the previous night. The middle-aged woman's never seen the cold and collective head gamemaker lose control before. And she didn't know how to deal with it.

All she wanted to do was spread some juicy gossip and to maybe tip him off that the Odair heir might be bringing a plus one to his upcoming engagement party; one that he's well acquainted with. Marge certainly wasn't expecting Coriolanus to start flipping his shit.

But what Marge didn't know was that Coriolanus is pea green with envy. That he wants to destroy Odysseus Odair because he's with you.

The woman that he's in love with, even if he won't allow himself to admit his feelings. Because he vowed to never ever fall in love after everything that transpired between him and Lucy Gray that summer he served as a peacekeeper in 12.

But love is something that can't be controlled. And that's something Coriolanus will learn first hand as he does everything in his power to get you back. To win you away from one Odysseus Odair, the bane of his existence.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover

[xmalereader]

Viktor Targaryen x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

SUMMARY: An AU regarding The house of dragons and arcane, Viktor is the second born child of King Targaryen and king to be, but Viktor doesn’t want the iron throne, nor does he want to stay in Dragonstone.

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, family history, no incest, sibling bonding, slight sexism and misogyny, Viktor is a good brother, OC dragon name, high valyrian, Viktors mother, mentions of Jayce, Piltover is a growing kingdom, short interaction with reader, non accurate GOT and HOTD lore.

WC: 2.0K

NOTES: I don’t know SHIT about game of throne or house of dragons 😅 but based on the little research I did and very few random episodes hopefully I am able to make this story make sense. It won’t really fit within the GOT universe so don’t judge me for the changes I will be making! But I just had to write this because Viktor just reminded me of the Targaryens due to the white hair when he was inside the arcane.

Viktor Targaryen was the second born child of King Targaryen, brother to Rhaenyra Targaryen. Only difference about him was that both siblings had a different mother, same father. Viktors mother was a commoner, a low life, as one would say and yet, she found a way to capture the kings heart. Rheanyra wasn’t too happy about her fathers marriage thinking that the women was only seducing her father in order to get her way only to realize that she was a very kind hearted women who wanted nothing to do with the Iron Throne.

When she fell pregnant with Rheanyra’s new baby brother she at first didn’t like the idea of having a brother, knowing that he would be the one to take over the throne and not her. Just as her father had promised her she knew that the promise would be broken the minute her brother would be born, being granted approval as the new future king.

Only Viktor never wanted the crown.

When Viktor got older he would remember hearing the murmurs of the council discussing on who would take over the throne after his father passes. Many in the council wanted Viktor to take over, but even he knew he wouldn’t be a proper king. His sister was perfect for the throne, he’s seen the way people bend to the knee for her, even their dragons bowed to her. She was the rightful heir, not him.

The first time the council called for him to take the throne he refused. It didn’t matter if he was the first born son, the crown wasn’t his and he wouldn’t take it away from someone who it did belong to. Things didn’t get better for Viktor, his father continued to grow ill and his own mother passed from the grey mist, air that poisoned her lungs until she could no longer breath anymore.

The council continued to push him to accept the crown and each time he rejected it.

Rhaenyra had noticed her brothers anger and was the one to approach him about it. Finding him out on the terrace where he overlooked their people, a frown on his face as the moonlight shined down upon them.

“You’re angry.”

He’s quiet when hearing her words.

Rhaenyra lets out a deep sigh through her nose. The two already knew where this was going, no matter how hard she tried the throne would never be given to her all because she was a women. A women that couldn’t lead a kingdom to peace, but Viktor knows that she can. He’s seen it in her.

“The council wants me to claim the iron throne. No matter how many times I refuse they will never stop.” Viktor finally says and looks over his shoulder to find his sister, looking at him with an upset expression of her own.

“They won’t stop until you sit on that throne.”

“I know that.”

Viktor never liked the idea of being a ruler. Yes, he wanted to help humanity without being needed anything in return. If he could do that he would, but the council would refuse him and expect him to follow along the traditions, keeping everything in balance for future generations.

His own father only spoke to the people whenever they entered their castle for help, he was never out in the streets and facing the reality of their suffering. Viktor had seen it, he had seen the terrible conditions his people lived in and no matter how much he wanted to help them he wouldn’t be able to without claiming the throne which would restrict him from doing things his own way.

Which is why he believes his own sister could be a better ruler then him. She would follow the traditions while also finding a way to help their people in her own ways.

“You should be on that throne, not me.” Viktor suddenly says, catching Rhaenyra by surprise as she approached him, standing by his side. His eyes locking with hers. “You’re the rightful heir to the iron throne, they may not see it but I do.” He’s heard the councils murmurs and distaste about the idea of her being the one to take over when both he and his father knew that she was the rightful one.

“You know they won’t allow it.”

“You’re right, they won’t.” He gentle takes her hand into his gloved one. “If I’m not here.” He sees the look of disbelief in his sisters eyes, he has thought about this for a very long time. The only way he’d be free from the crown is if he left, disappeared from this place that he once called home.

“You can’t leave, you’re my brother.”

“A brother who is holding their sister back from claiming what is rightfully theirs.”

Both siblings have grown close throughout the years that there were times where they were inseparable always attached to the hip and helping each other out. He was there when his sister first bared a child, the fear in her eyes when she refused help from the maids, afraid of facing a similar outcome as her mother. He was always there for her just as she was for him the day he lost his mother, watching as they tossed her coffin into the sea where the ocean waters claimed her as theirs.

But now, Viktor has to be the one to make the hard choices.

Rhaenyra is at lose for words, unable to say anything. She can see it in her brothers eyes that there is no way in convincing him to stay. So, she gives him a silent goodbye. Her forehead is pressed against his the two taking in their final moment together before Viktor pulls away first, giving her a sad smile.

“ēva īlon rhaenagon arlī.”

And with that final goodbye he leaves his sister.

Escaping into the dead of night he mounts his dragon, Xanthus, and takes off. Disappearing from his family line and being known as the ‘The Lost Child’.

Viktor had no idea where he was even going, he had no plan nor did he know anyone that he can ask for assistance. He couldn’t stay where his name was known nor could he be close to his own home.

So, Xanthus flew them out far.

Far from home and across the sea to a whole new world that Viktor didn’t know existed. Viktor didn’t think that he’d find a place meant for him until he stumbled upon an island called Piltover. It was rather small, but decent. The people there lived comfortably, but of course they had a council of their own and when Viktor first made an appearance with his dragon the place grew in panic, bells ringing in alert from his presence and causing the whole town to go into lockdown.

When Xanthus lands near the bridge that connected two different towns he was greeted with soldier wielding their weapons at him. The threat wasn’t taken lightly by Xanthus the large golden dragon ready to strike them down with a simple command that comes from his rider only it never came.

It wasn’t until a short man makes his way through the crowd of soldiers, hands behind his back as he stares up at Viktor and Xanthus. The man had a brightness in his eyes that somewhat eased Viktor.

“Magnificent beast.” The man didn’t seem scared of Xanthus which caught Viktor by surprise. Everyone back at home worshipped their dragons like gods, knowing how dangerous and powerful they can be and how impossible it was to kill a dragon.

The large beast releases a hiss towards the man. “Gīda.” He placed a hand on the dragons neck, providing soothing rubs as he calms the dragon down from doing anything harsh.

“Magnificent.” He hears the man repeat in awe which has Viktor chuckling, letting go of the reigns and sliding off his dragon who stood by him in a protective way, ready to attack in case anything were to happen to him. “Do you say that a lot?” Viktor asks with an arched brow which has the man chuckling a smile on his face.

“Only when I see something very interesting.”

Viktor can only smile at the mans cheerfulness finding it quiet odd since he’s never been around someone like him before. That was the first time he met Heimerdinger, head of the council of Piltover. When Viktor first met the council he was surprised by how many women were involved, something he’s never seen back at Dragonstone. They held their heads up high and spoke with confidence, intimidation radiating off of them when asking him where he came from and why he was here.

At first he didn’t know if providing his family name was a good idea, afraid of them alerting his family, but when they heard the name ‘Targaryen’ it was unknown to them. A sense of relief washed over Viktor and for the first time ever he felt free from the bonds that his family name carried.

Viktor was lucky enough to stay, getting the councils approval as long as he maintained his dragon from causing them any trouble. Which then resulted into Viktor finding them a home for themselves. Xanthus hated cramped spaces and never stayed underground like he did back at Dragonstone he always remained above ground where he knew he could easily defend himself without feeling trapped like his brothers and sisters did.

The time he spent in Piltover resulted into him learning about their history and becoming Heimerdingers pupil, learning from the shorter man and providing his own assistance. He’s seen what Piltover is doing to advance into their future, providing their people easier ways to travel and transport goods which Viktor helped with.

Viktor doesn’t know how long he spent living in Piltover that with time he befriend a man named Jayce who wanted to do so much for the future. Not only had he met Jayce, but he had also met a young man who worked alongside the council. He was the assistant to Council women Merdarda he had seen him around but never really spoke to him until he caught him once with Xanthus.

He usually checked up on his dragon, caring for him ever since he was a hatchling and tightening their bond everyday only to be surprised when Xanthus allows another human to approach him so easily. Most dragons wouldn’t listen to anyone unless its a Targaryen member and to see this with his own eyes made him rethink his families history.

“He likes you.”

The man gasps when hearing Viktor, pulling his hand away from the dragons scaly neck. Xanthus lets out a small rumble in the back of his throat, shifting to lie his head on the grass below him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Viktor shakes his head. “It’s alright, he usually doesn’t allow anyone to approach him unless its me. It caught me by surprise that he allowed anyone else besides me to touch him.” His own gloved hand trails down the dragons neck, stepping closer to the man who swallows nervously.

“I was curious.”

“Your curiosity can get you hurt,” His eyes trail from Xanthus to the assistant. “Or killed.”

“I have a strange habit of approaching dangerous things without thinking twice.” His words causes Viktor to chuckle, blue eyes locking with the mans, his hand not leaving Xanthus neck it always brought him a sense of comfort.

“You’re Merdard’s assistant?”

The man gives a cocky grin. “I am.” He responds back. “You must be Heimerdingers?”

Viktors lip twitch into a smile when hearing his question being thrown back at him.

“I am.” He confirms his words which has the other nodding along. A silence falls between them before the other cuts it first.

“I never got your name.”

The Targaryen turns to look at him. “It’s Viktor.”

[muscle-red]

* ꒰ HIS HIGHNESS ꒱ •

* Warnings: amab body, Draconia reader, Reader’s Point of View, Reader kinda an OC, unprotected sex, chest play, overstimulation, blowjobs, edging, cum swallowing, Lilia’s a bottom, General Lilia mentioned.

*Word Count: 931

┆ Lilia Vanrouge x Male Draconia Reader ┆

+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pale as a porcelain doll, Hair as dark as night, Eyes that shine brighter than any ruby. That was the beauty of Lilia Vanrouge.

Here was the fearless General of Briar Valley. Lying down, tied up, ready to take his king’s order.

His Cock was hard and pulsing. It clashed between the two male’s stomach’s. He could’ve easily broken the Ties that Are around his Wrists and eyes already but the thought of This turned him on tremendously as shown between his obvious arousal. The second he felt the tip in, he couldn’t help but Break out in a moan. His whole body twitched in pleasure as his Hole tighten around the length of the cock opening up his insides.

“I- H-Hold on a second! Ngh~ ahh Too fast!”

His eyes rolled back and he couldn’t help but close his eyes within his bind in bliss.

He was always stuck onto one (or two) person and too busy with the war to pleasure himself much less engage in sexual activities so all of this was new to him and his body.

You bit his shoulder every time he made a sound as you thrusted into him. It left a pretty mark on his pale complexion. Your fangs seemed to have broke his skin which caused blood but he didn’t seem to mind and even moaned in encouragement especially combined with the pleasure of your dick hitting a different spot in him that caused him to arch his back in total bliss.

“A-ah Your highness-“ his face got hotter and his voice staggered. The words seemingly got caught in his throat. You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lips but you pulled away before he had a chance to react.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking. More beautiful than any creature I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.” You cooed and eventually laid your mouth on his once again hungrily. He tasted better than any divine nectar, any 5 star meal Your personal chefs could cook up with. You begged for entrance and he quickly allowed. Your tongue quickly traced his fangs and your newfound territory, quickly claiming What is now yours. You pulled away for breath after a while . You took out your still harden dick and let it lay between your heated bodies. He whined from the lack of pleasure but was quickly replaced with a moan once again as Your mouth went down before reaching his chest and biting down on his nipples. Your tongue worked one nipple as your other hand played with the other. You rolled one nipple between your two fingers making his mouth You never knew how sensitive he was but here he was Moaning as if he wanted to be breeded with another Draconia heir. You let go of his nipples and quickly went down until u reach his still tighten hole. You quickly licked his hole as if you haven’t eaten in days. His voice came out hoarse and let out a long broken moan at the pleasure between his legs.

“S-Shit. F-FUCK.” His thighs quickly wrapped around your head.

“Gonna Cum! Ngh~ Gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum!”

The white clear liquid Quickly layed spread on his stomach as you Licked it up tasting the salty but sweet taste.

You wrapped your mouth around the tip in order to get more of the taste and easily eased your way down the head. You then took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. Whether it was his mouth or cock, he tasted wonderful and you couldn’t get enough of him.

“I-I think I’ma c-c-cum again!!” You took your mouth out of his shaft before he could Cum. He whined at the loss of pleasure. You quickly lined up ur dick in his hole once again and entered his less tighten hole by inch. After a few seconds he quickly Gave you the green light.

“A-Ah Move-“

You quickly began to rock ur hips into him making a bunch of noises that squelched every time you thrusted. You could feel every inch of him. You buried your cock deep within him as both ur moans filled the entirety of the room.

“I’m close! please! I-“

You fasten the pace and sucked on his neck once again. He wrapped his legs around your waist off the bed and pulsed around your cock. He cried out before once again cumming between your stomach’s. Not much later Your quickly filled him up with your seed.

You two came down from your high and with a wave of his wrist, The ties quickly unraveled.

He laid down next to you with a flushed face.

“You alright?” You were able to stammer out.

“Mm.. I-Im good. Just tired I suppose. I feel quite young again though fufu~”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his Statement and once again, Lilia was the teasing bat that you came to know and love. You wrapped your arms around his naked Body and brought the covers to shield both of your bodies. He Laid his head between your neck and kissed it.

“So.. another round?”

“LILIA!!”

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Sugar daddy x "pure"! Reader

EEEEEEEEE Time to write my baby, the fruit of my dark rofan loins (jk) Basically, this yandere is my first yandere OC and when I gave life (lol) to him in Char/ai yesterday, I just knew he had to be next.

Also, I contemplated what title to give him since he's also a mafia boss, but I decided to go with Sugar daddy since it's the most integral part of his story.

Also, "pure" just means that you dress light, really. But in Rowan's eyes, you were like an angel, a pure being that he needs to taint (oops spoiler)

Yandere! Sugar daddy name: Rowan Silas (Yes, he even has a last name)

notes: Rowan is not old, OLD. He's not a Dilf/Gilf level sugar daddy. In his lore with my other OC (his love interest), he's older by five years. Also, reader has a womb, due to mentions of pregnancy (why did I do this pregnancy shit twice? Dunno really.)

TW: noncon pregnancy, trackers, nsfw stuff

ALSO, REQUESTS ARE OPEN <3 (I don't even know if people will request but LOL just in case.)

The man only knew pain and crime all his life.

He never experienced anything good, apart from gunning down his enemies alive if that even means the same as what people deem as "good".

His life of crime was because of his adoptive father, who picked him up from the slums to become one of his personnel.

He was only seven by then. But his hands stained with blood as he killed the other kid who drowned his precious pet kitten in the lake. That's where his father knew that Rowan is not normal.

I mean, who would sport a smile while choking his fellow kid alive?

All Rowan said was "He deserved it though."

"He took what's precious from me."

That was enough to make his father set him straight to become the heir of the mafia family.

He grew up battered and bruised yet the vices he only knew is his smoking from his precious churchwarden pipe, and violence.

He told his father that it was enough for him.

Yet his body raged on, wanting more and more as greed consumed him for more.

Yes, he's a greedy man who wants more.

After all, he had nothing, then had one precious thing, then lost that thing. And then, when he eliminated the person who stole his precious thing, he got everything.

Did that make sense? To Rowan, it didn't.

He already got everything, but why does he want more?

So with a clean shot to the head, he killed his father and immediately inherited the family.

Now, he can spend the money and the resources as much as he wants. So he did. He went to casinos, brothels, luxury hotels and cruises. Everything he thinks that he needs.

But he still wants more. He still needs more.

And by god, he did get more.

He bumped into you one day, with you in your soft outfit of creams and pastels. Your pure, clean eyes made his heart skip a beat as you said sorry to him.

His greed triggered.

He wanted you so bad.

When he learned you needed a job when he saw your folder filled with resumes, he felt like he won the lottery.

"How about becoming my sugar baby? Don't worry, I won't ask anything. Much."

And as your cute figure pondered what to do, he smirked. You, in the middle of his dim office, in light clothing and an innocent face, was such a contrast in the dark office filled with his smoke from his beloved churchwarden pipe. You stuck out like a sore thumb, and he liked it.

He loved it.

And as your lips dropped the answer he wanted to hear, he shivered and gave you a lopsided smile.

"Good. Now, what do you want, love?"

Rowan sat down on his office chair, he cracked his neck and sighed.

He was bone tired. He just finished a cartel mission that he himself as the boss had to interfere. It was annoying because it was due to his incompetent new recruits.

At least they're sleeping with the "fishies", as what you call the finned sea creatures.

He grabbed something from his pocket and brought it up to his face. It was an intricate jeweled choker with a lot of rose gold arcs, jewels that match your eyes, and a diamond encrusted opal centerpiece.

He imagined you wearing it. Wrapping the choker on your neck himself, seeing your eyes flash in wonder and amazement. He imagined you also getting shy and saying that it was too expensive, and him saying that it was okay, and he wanted to give you this entirely by his own volition. And he got excited.

...In one way or another.

He chuckled and shook his head, swinging on his swivel chair as he dialed your number.

After two rings, you picked up.

"Love, come here. I got a gift for you."

You whined, getting shy again. He chuckled.

"You know what I say, I don't want to hear you say no. So come here now."

So you did.

Once you got there, he smiled and kissed your lips softly, bringing you close to him by your waist and lifting you up easily with his tatted arms.

"Come, I'll give you the present myself."

You got curious naturally.

He settled you in front of the floor length mirror which also saw... Much more intimate and sensual things you both did other than this gift giving thing he's doing.

Rowan slowly grabbed your hair and raised it, making you shiver with goosebumps from the action. He smirked, seeing you so flustered from the simple act of him grabbing your hair.

Well, that, and he also liked to grab your hair a lot while fucking you senselessly. There's that too.

You closed your eyes when he told you too, and you felt the familiar cold sensation of jewelry resting on your neck. But this time, it hugged it, making you open your eyes. It was the beautiful choker he was admiring earlier.

"Do you love it?" Rowan asked, looking at you through the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You nodded enthusiastically and said yes. He smirked.

This was the first time you didn't say to take the gift back with such a flustered apprehensive look. You're starting to get greedy.

He loved that. A lot.

"Now, how about you kiss me in return, hmm?" You rolled your eyes and gently kissed him. You know this day is not just going to end in a kiss.

But you didn't mind.

And he knows that.

You went home that day with Rowan driving you. He gave you more gifts that you shyly accepted once more, making Rowan shiver in glee. Again, you didn't reject them at all.

You're slowly getting tainted by his greediness.

And hopefully, you will be greedy enough to bring up your relationship to him, and tell him that you wanted more to this.

That you wanted his love.

Oh, he trembles at the thought.

It's not a question of if, but when, after all.

But now, he's just slowly moving forward with your relationship. Slow and steady wins the race, after all. Despite him living such a fast paced life, he knows he's patient enough to wait for you.

But if you backtracked and got out of his tight grasp...

Let's just say that the tracker he planted on your laptop, your phone, and now your precious choker will help him find you if you ran away.

You were the light to his dark, dreary life.

He'll be crazy enough to let you go.

And he's already crazy about you.

That's why he's making you addicted to him also. Showering you with gifts and love. Praising your body, worshipping it, pleasing it until you reach the heavens like the angel you are.

And if you still didn't want him... Let's just say the condoms with holes in them that he himself poked will do the trick.

It was a dirty tactic. But who cares? He's a mafia boss for god's sake. Dirty tactics aren't new to him.

And if you still somehow didn't end up pregnant and got to run away, he'll use his influence to find you.

You got no escape.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

You were his love. His greed.

With a drag of his churchwarden pipe, he drove off to plan your wedding.

You were going to be his after all.

No matter what.

I don't know if I did my baby Rowan justice i'm going crazY FUCK.

Can you guys tell I have favoritism? Because I do LOL

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | seven

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: I think none, just some bantering and fluff towards the end

A/N: here is where the good shit starts...

Nimue had started spending more time outdoors. She sat on the balconies of the house, in the garden, in the outdoor patio, and she enjoyed the fresh air. She loved feeling the wind on her skin, in her hair, the chill as the sun set.

However, there was a shadow looming over her.

She was enjoying her new life, her new freedom, but she knew that at some point all of that would have to change, that she would have to return to reality.

She was sitting in the garden, in a chair, with her eyes closed and letting herself be carried away by the sensation of the sun on her skin when suddenly she felt it.

She felt something in her mind open up, and her vision was blinded from inside her skull. When she opened her eyes, she didn't see the trees and rose bushes in the garden, she only saw white.

She didn't panic, as that light was the same one that surrounded her when she was inside the Cauldron. It was him, trying to tell her something, to teach her something.

So she clung to the chair's armrests to stay anchored to the earthly plane and let herself be carried wherever the Cauldron was dragging her.

She saw herself in the middle of a path. In front of her, green meadows and lush forests. There was something there that made the greens of the leaves seem livelier, that made the blue sky shine brighter.

When she turned around, trying to take in all her surroundings, she found a beautiful mansion behind her, where the path she was on ended. The house was neglected, but still, its charm made Nimue feel drawn towards its interior.

She supposed it must be the Spring Court, as it matched the brief descriptions Feyre had given her when telling her story.

And then she saw it.

Under the huge entrance gate, she saw them, all of them.

She saw Jurian, she saw Dagdan and Brannagh, her hateful cousins. There in the midst of all that splendor and springtime radiance, the human and the two twins exuded a poisonous and black aura that tainted the air around them.

She wondered if that's how Azriel and the others saw her, and she felt a pang of disgust towards herself in her chest.

Azriel, standing in the middle of the kitchen with a cup in his hand, felt the same pang in his own chest.

He immediately became alert and pulled and pulled on that invisible thread. He felt Nimue's presence on the other side, but there was something strange. As if she also wasn't there.

He set the cup aside, not caring if it fell to the floor or not, and hurried out of the kitchen. He first looked in the library, where he knew she spent most of her time.

He knew, clearly, because it was his duty to watch over her and make sure she didn't have any hidden intentions.

Just because of that, nothing more.

When he decided to peek into the garden, there she was.

The princess, taking one last look to identify Tamlin and Lucien, let herself be dragged back to Velaris, to her new home.

She came to her senses, and in front of her was Azriel.

"Hello."

Azriel didn't say anything. He just looked at her, in silence, watching as the girl got up from the chair and walked towards him under the sunlight.

There, in the light, she seemed to shine with her own light.

He took a couple of deep breaths and tensed his body completely. Involuntarily, his wings spread behind him, and he could see his own shadow projected on the ground.

Alright, perfect. We have to impress her.

He wanted to smack himself.

After what had happened the other day at the training ground, after letting himself go so unconsciously, Azriel's shadows had completely betrayed him. They spent the hours of the day chasing Nimue around the house, whispering in his ear everything the princess did or didn't do, telling him that she wore a very pretty dress, or that she had perfumed herself with a small bottle of cologne that Feyre had given her.

He had been avoiding her for days, now more than ever, after the ridiculousness he had made in front of Cassian.

Oh, Cassian. He had made sure everyone in the house knew, and he had also made sure to embarrass Azriel on the subject.

And now, after days, their encounter couldn't happen any other way, with his body disobeying him again, his wings spreading like a bird's, his body tensing every muscle to pretend.

He looked like a foolish teenager trying to impress the girl he liked.

Nimue gave him a warm smile, so warm that Azriel could swear his heart was melting in the middle of his chest.

"I haven't seen you in many days."

Nimue knew he had been avoiding her. Nimue knew Azriel's shadows followed her around the house. She also knew that something had changed within the male, because she felt it through the bond. She felt a small burning spark, amidst all that anger and rage boiling inside him.

"I've been busy. I have a job, even if it doesn't seem like it."

Azriel reconsidered the option of smacking himself.

Why was he like this with her? Why couldn't he manage to give her a kind word, a good look, a nice smile? Just like everyone else in his family did.

However, Nimue's own smile didn't falter.

"I know," she simply said. She continued to look at him a little longer, with all that curiosity in her face that only made Azriel soften even more.

And so they stood, in silence, facing each other for a while longer without really knowing what to say. Simply internalizing each other's presence. Until Nimue remembered the pressing matter.

"Oh, I have to talk to Rhysand. Things are moving fast in Spring.”

"Wonderful. So now it's not just Tamlin, as if that wasn't enough, the damn Jurian is with him in Spring too. And you're telling me you have two sadistic and psychopathic cousins there as well?"

Rhysand immediately wanted to tear his hair out. Everything was slipping out of their hands. They had found a quick and discreet solution to all of this, to prevent a greater evil, and things had gone awry. He was grateful for the help Nimue had unconditionally provided, but welcoming the princess into their home had only put a target on their backs for the King of Hybern.

"I can help, Rhysand. Let me go there, and I'll take care of slowing down all their plans."

The High Lord hesitated. He could feel Feyre's gaze on him, the expectation she placed on his decision.

"Nimue..." Rhysand didn't know how to say it tactfully.

He glanced around the room, where everyone had gathered to hear what the princess had to say. He observed Azriel carefully, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking as though he might bore a hole in the floor with his restlessness.

Azriel didn't want to let her go to Spring. It was suspicious, too risky. The perfect opportunity for her to betray their trust, to join forces with her cousins and the traitor Tamlin and end everything in Prythian, just as her father wanted her to do.

He wanted to trust her, but her eagerness to convince them to let her go, to let her go with the enemy...

"No," said Azriel. He stepped forward, imposing himself in the atmosphere of that meeting, and everyone looked at him. "We can't let her go, it's risky and dangerous. We still don't know what her intentions are or what will happen if her family convinces her to return.

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here in front of you." With her sharp teeth fully visible, ears laid back and pinned to her skull, Nimue looked like a stray cat about to attack. The embodiment of rage. "I've been in this house for almost a month, living with you all and earning your trust. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it in Hybern to save myself all this time, I wouldn't need to convince you of anything if my goal was to win the war for my father. I would simply kill you, and there would be no war to win."

Everyone remained silent and surprised at the princess's sudden outburst of fury. The sweet and innocent girl they had come to know over the past month had disappeared, and in her place, a furious beast stared at each of them one by one.

"I made it clear from the beginning. You need me. Let me fit into your plans and help you, or I'll burn everything down regardless of what stands in the way: High Lords or kings of Hybern."

Rhysand immediately became alert, ready for anything, as did the entire Inner Circle.

"Calm down."

"I'll calm down when you understand that I'm not a helpless child, nor a mere spy. I'll calm down when you understand that I'm a weapon made for war and that I have no reason to wish you harm," Nimue breathed. She did her best to dissipate her anger, to let it flow and evaporate through every pore. "Unlike the father who imprisoned me for twenty years and intends to ravage the entire world, I wish no harm upon you."

Azriel, with his hand on the hilt of his dagger, felt the heavy atmosphere of the room dissipate slowly, as Nimue glanced at each of them one by one, pleading for a vote of confidence. He felt the sorrow of the female in his own chest, raw through the bond.

Sorrow, because even though Nimue believed she was finding her place, she felt so hard to love, so hard to accept. They saw her as a monster and a threat wherever she went, and there were times when, despite her efforts to fight against that stigma, she only reinforced it. Like at that moment, when faced with the rejection of these people, she had reverted to her old self, the one who bared her teeth and threatened others.

In a final desperate attempt, she turned to Azriel, "Please, I beg you. Give me this chance and take action against my father and his madness."

Azriel looked at her, holding his breath and fighting against the instinct to fall to his knees and give the pleading female whatever she wanted. It was so difficult for him to fight against his instincts that he had to close his eyes and then look at the ceiling, avoiding Nimue's eyes, who knew what she was doing with all the rationality Azriel could have.

Rhysand broke the silence with a long sigh.

"Okay," sighed the High Lord. There was a moment of silence in which Azriel supposed he would be speaking mind to mind with Feyre. "The only condition is that Azriel goes with you and ensures that everything goes well."

"Okay. When do we leave?"

Azriel gazed enraptured at his lifelong brother, his High Lord.

"Pardon?”

She was sitting in one of the armchairs in her room, her gaze fixed on the stars shining in the sky. She counted them, searching for the constellations that Amren had taught her in those books, memorizing their names. She felt nerves on edge, anticipation for the next day, for her parting to the Spring Court boiling deep within her.

Finally, she felt useful. Finally, her twenty years of waiting were leading her somewhere. Although she found herself on the opposite side of the fight than she had imagined, she felt that was where she belonged.

In her reverie, she felt a tug in the middle of her chest. The door to her room opened on its own, as if a gust of wind had pushed it, as if the house itself were urging her to go. Nimue shivered and decided to follow that pull, that sensation she received with open arms even if she didn't want to, even if she tried to resist it.

Azriel.

She followed the bond through the corridors, blindly, opening doors and ascending to the attic of the house. There, she climbed out of one of the windows and onto the roof of the house.

In the darkness of the night, illuminated by the half moon, Azriel was sitting on the black tiles, his face tilted towards the sky and his eyes closed.

Nimue didn't utter a word, didn't move a muscle, by the Mother, she didn't even breathe. She stayed still, observing every angle of that male's face, how the pale light of the moon illuminated his dark skin, how his raven hair shone like the purest of onyx. She remained silent, afraid he would notice her presence and chase her away barking, as the only communication between them was usually to insult or annoy each other.

Nimue looked at him and looked at him. She looked at him so much that she thought she was going to cry, until Azriel let out a sigh.

"Are you going to come closer or are you going to stay there all night?"

Nimue flinched, but quickly crawled over to where he was, sitting beside him at a prudent distance and pulling her knees to her chest. She felt her nose and cheeks reddened by the cold, her fingertips growing numb. But she didn't mind, as that made her feel alive.

"Are you nervous?"

She mulled over the response for a couple of seconds, still gazing at the stars.

"Yes," she turned to look at Azriel only to find the male's gaze already fixed on her, a relaxed expression on his face. "And you?"

"Only a fool wouldn't be."

They fell silent for a while longer, Nimue's gaze on the city below, Azriel's on the beautiful female beside him.

He couldn't stop looking at her. When he tried, his gaze involuntarily returned to her figure. He focused on every little thing, every tiny detail he could see: the waves of her white hair, the messy half up she wore, how the smile seemed so natural on her face that even though she tried to hide it, it always came back.

His shadows seemed awfully and suspiciously quiet that night, leaving room for his not so quiet thoughts.

Suddenly, she raised her hand, pointing at something in the middle of the sky.

"I never knew what that constellation was called, but it's the one I observed from the few windows I saw in the Palace. Every night I looked at it, counted the stars, drew it on every piece of paper I laid my hands on."

Azriel followed her finger, unable to contain his smile when he saw what she meant. He leaned back, lying on the tiles and letting his weight fall on his elbows. Nimue turned to him, that curiosity and fascination typical of a child discovering the world shining in her eyes, and Azriel felt a stab of anger.

His mate, who had spent the twenty years of her life locked in a Palace, was nothing more than the puppet of a bad man. And only now she was lucky enough to see the world, to be fascinated by all those things that he considered so mundane and ordinary that he overlooked them day after day.

"Here we call it the Promise constellation, but in other courts they call it the Lovers' constellation. Under it, many couples in Prythian swear eternal love. They celebrate their weddings and engagements at night and swear their vows under the light of those stars." Azriel looked at her cautiously, waiting for any reaction from her.

But Nimue only turned her gaze back to the stars, a lump in her throat. It was beautiful. Swearing eternal love to someone...

In all her existence, she had never imagined that there would be room for love. But she allowed herself to dream for a second, just one second, about how it would feel to love and be loved.

Azriel felt his emotions mix with Nimue's, felt so many things at once that, careful not to let the female see him, he brought his hand to his face to wipe away the tear that was sliding down his cheek. It was brutal, feeling all those things as if it were the first time, because it certainly was the first time Nimue felt them.

"How beautiful..." the princess whispered.

"Yes, it is. It's beautiful."

Nimue looked at him again, the purest of smiles on her face, and with a quick movement, she took Azriel's hand between hers and brought it to her lap, causing Azriel to be surprised by the gesture.

"You must learn to trust me, no matter what it costs. From my heart and under this constellation, I swear loyalty to you, I swear I will do everything I can to win this war and make sure nothing goes wrong. I swear with all my soul that you can trust me, that I am worthy of your trust."

Azriel was stunned, speechless, a look of complete surprise uncommon on his face. With his gaze lost in their joined hands, he couldn't help but notice the scars contrasting against Nimue's pale skin, and how well their hands looked together. So contrasting were their skin tones, yet so accomplice in the marks of their past. He sat up, and with his other gloved hand, he embraced Nimue's.

"And I swear I will learn to trust you, blindly."

Intertwining between their fingers, a tattoo in the shape of thorn branches began to stain their skin, bearing witness to the promise they had just made.

And with only the stars as witnesses, Azriel and Nimue held each other's hands, looking into each others eyes, staring into each other's souls.

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[magicalmanhattanproject]

okay i have to talk about my obscure blorbo fíriel ondoheriel. literally no one cares about her except me. not even tolkien cares about her. she has Zero canon traits. no personality, no physical appearance, not even a death date. here's what we know about her

in 1940 TA, Arvedui, then-prince of Arthedain* marries Fíriel, daughter of King Ondoher of Gondor, uniting the two realms after a long estrangement

[loads up Tolkien Gateway to cross check dates] HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

in 1938 TA, Aranarth, eldest son of Arvedui is born. Now, if we're being real with ourselves, Jirt made an oopsie here and no one caught it. But, no one caught it and the only numbers we have are Aranarth, son of Arvedui, is born in 1938 and Arvedui marries Fíriel in 1940.

So, like, what's up there? Did Arvedui and Fíriel meet before their wedding and elope? Was Aranarth born in Gondor and hidden to protect Fíriel's reputation? Or did Fíriel have to make an excuse to stay in Arthedain and hide her pregnancy and then abandon her child until a proper marriage could be arranged? Was Arvedui married to someone else first and a widower? Was Fíriel a second wife and a stepmother to the real heir? Was Aranarth a bastard and Fíriel brought in to produce the real heir? Had Fíriel ever left home before? Did she have any feelings about being sent away from her whole family to be a queen for a man who already had an heir? Did she have a child she had to travel with? That she was desperate to reunite with? That she wanted nothing to do with? Did she love travel? Hate it? How did she feel about Gondor? Arthedain? We don't know. Tolkien doesn't care.

Anyway, back to what I already knew about.

in 1944 TA, Ondoher and both his sons are killed in the invasion of the Wainriders.

How does Fíriel feel about this? What's her relationship with her father like? Her brothers? Presumably she has a mother in there somewhere too? We don't know. Tolkien doesn't care.

Now, the doozy.

later in 1944 TA, Arvedui sends messages to Gondor claiming the throne both as a descendant of Isildur and as the husband of Fíriel, who would have been ruling queen according to Númenorean law.**

How does Fíriel feel about that? How does Fíriel feel about claiming the throne of her father and her brothers and her homeland through her blood for himself? We don't know. Tolkien doesn't care.

This is the last mention of Fíriel in the text. We don't know what happens to her after this. Maybe she trips and falls down the stairs the very next day. Maybe she lives a long life and dies of old age in her sleep. We don't know. We know what happens to her family though and it's not pretty.

Arvedui ascends to the throne of Arthedain in 1964 with the realm already struggling under invasion from Angmar. In 1974, the Witch-King invades and captures the capital of Fornost. Arvedui escapes to the Ice Bay of Forochel where he is aided by the locals over the bitter winter. Aranarth, a young man at this point, gets word to Círdan that his father is stranded there and Círdan sends a ship to bring them aid. When the ship arrives, Arvedui wants to leave immediately, but the locals warn him against leaving, saying that the Witch-King's power wanes in the summer and the bay is too dangerous.

Let's backtrack a moment. The name Arvedui means "last-king" and was given to him at his birth by Malbeth the Seer. Though, the seer said, "a choice well come to the Dúnedain, and if they take the one that seems less hopeful, then your son will change his name and become ruler of a great realm."

Arvedui does not. He takes the ship Círdan sent, which is sunk in an ice storm. Arthedain falls. Aranarth becomes the first Chieftain of the Rangers.

There's one last piece to all this. Name meanings. Tolkien likes them. I was looking through canon name meanings for OC names and I decided to check Fíriel out and I got fucking flashbanged.

See, something you gotta remember about the descendants of Elros is that a lot of them resent his choice. It's said that the line of Gondor failed because the kings were too busy contemplating immortality and their ancestors to look to the future and have heirs of their own. That's maybe not fair to the kings whose lines failed, but it's certainly a trait they all share.

So, what does Fíriel mean?

Mortal Maid

Look at everything else about her and everything that happened to everyone she loved and realize that she was born to the name She Will Die

How did she feel about that? We don't know. But I want to.

*The northern kingdom of Arnor had long ago split into three kingdoms. Arthedain is the one from which the eldest and true line of descent from Elendil continued. The other two had already fallen by this point.

**For the record, Ondoher was the 31st king of Gondor and somehow the issue of a ruling queen has not been litigated before now. Not a single time in the past 30 generations has a daughter been the eldest child or only available heir. That... stretches plausibility. This is easily explained by Tolkien forgetting that women exist until they become immediately plot relevant, but it certainly gestures in the direction of things about Gondorian kings that are rather unflattering.

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello gorgeous! if you don't mind modern au, i have an idea. if you don't feel like writing anything it'd be great to hear your thoughts abt it. daemon x wife!reader (who's somehow connected with magic but not targaryen) who are devoted to each other like madly in love. before daemon has to go to war they're saying goodbyes kissing, crying and not being able to let the other go. feeling like something's off he says smth like "i'll find you in another life. i'll find you in any time we'll be existing. i will love you any time i am alive" (in high valyrian or calling her some name in it) kissing her knuckles and going away. unfortunately, he was right. reader died some way while he was away and he remains faithful to her for the rest of his life (oc but whatever) and in the modern world he does find her. maybe targaryens are some sort of royal family, maybe they keep a family business or an ordinary family with lots of relatives. but he fins the reader and they somehow just feel. sorry if it's too much. i'd really like to read something about it but it absolutely ok if you don't feel like it. thank u in advance! take care!

Waiting For A Lifetime

Part 1 2 3 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader cos it just sorta happened

Summary: Overcome by grief, Daemon turned to black magic to revive you. Moved by pity, the witch who casted the spell promised you would live until you met your love again in his next life.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Modern AU, fem!reader, mentions/depictions of death/still birth/war, my pretty boy aegon whom i would die for, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i saw this last night when i woke up in the middle of my sleep and couldn't stop thinking about it. I changed a lot about your req nonnie. I do hope you still like it though. I absolutely could not help myself with this one and I got so carried away T_T also a lot of facts about the Targaryens have distorted so just just just roll with it ok ok ok thank you And yes i know this is a gif from the crown but i love it so much the hat falling off the kiss ITS EVERYTHING I WANT TO BE HERRRRRRRRRRRRR also i do acknowledge the fact that this anon came to me with this idea after i reblogged this amazing moodboard sooooo yeah i think this post sparked this fic idea lol ALSO ALSO ALSO 2022 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! LOVE YA ALL imagine seeing this post in like 2032 or smth shit thats like 35 years from now Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony pssst i made p2 "Never Before"

Daemon's face was streaked with tears and sorrow. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice was as sure as it was grave as he repeated the word he uttered to the shaman, "anything."

She looked at him, able to taste the desperation in the air, "even if it costs your life, prince?"

Daemon looks at his love before him, his love that was carrying his child. He places his bloody palm on the gaping wound on her stomach.

"Your child will not live even if she does."

Daemon screws his eyes shut tightly. He begins to quiver in anger, in grief, in pure sorrow. He mutters, "anything," he slowly opens his eyes to gaze upon her lifeless face, "better it me than her. There is no world worth living without her."

The woman narrows her eyes at the prince. She knew he was the Targaryen, once heir, known to be rugged and harsh. The Rouge Prince. Yet, there was no trace of malice within his being, only what she would describe as true devotion, true love.

"So, may it be done by the gods old and new," she says, drawing the prince's attention to her, "I will plead for her soul that she may live."

Daemon watches the witch, as she stands to her feet from the ground they were both sprawled on, in front of the body of the dead woman.

"I will plead that she may live long enough to meet you again in another life, so that you may have the love you have now once more."

"Another life?"

"Yes," she says, "the gods recreate humans they are pleased with to grace the earth again. I am certain they will let you be reborn to be with her again. I will make it certain."

Daemon grabs the cold hand that was beginning to stiffen.

"Although, I am unsure if they will allow you to remember her."

"I will remember her," Daemon retorts, kissing the hand of his love, "I will remember her no matter form I take... I will, I must."

"So it remains to be seen," she says before speaking out her incantation.

And it would not be seen until nearly 2000 years later.

The times have changed drastically. Women wore pants and voted. Men where made to take more responsibility for their actions, though still got away with things.

And yet...

... my love for him never faded.

Every prince that was born and named Daemon, I hoped would finally be him. It went about like this century after century, war after war, plague after plague, rise after fall. I had feared the Targaryens would die out, but they proved to be as strong as the very foundations of the earth.

And it took the televised of the marriage of Viserys XXIX to Duchess Aemma of Eyrie for me to see the face of my love: Daemon, the Wild Child, the Knight of Knickers, as penned by the press. Ultimately, the prince of my heart.

I burst into tears when I saw his cheeky face as he nudged his brother at the isle. I pressed my hands on the screen, thinking to myself, the wait was finally over, he was finally here.

All that was left was for me to meet the Prince of Valyria.

Yes. That would be no problem at all.

Except it was, because Daemon was just as mad as he was in this life as he was in the last.

After all, he did not get those nicknames from the press for nothing.

I used up so many of my resources to even just get a glimpse of him. It was hard to catch him in one place. I mostly caught him with a scandalous headline in the cover of magazines and newspapers.

Tonight, it was a newspaper.

"You know," the bartender taps his finger on my newspaper that was sprawled out on his bar, "he's a frequent here."

I turn to the blonde, in his white dress shirt, black waist apron, and black slacks. I raise a brow as he purses his lips as though the information was ground breaking. He wipes on a glass with his blue towel.

"Gee, Aegon," I lean on the surface before me, "I would have never guessed that from the picture on the wall."

I nod at the said picture. It's one of Daemon and the current owner of the bar, Tywin Lannister, who also happened to own Lannister Land Corp, shaking hands. Oh, Lannisters.

"Hey," Aegon shrugs, pulling his lips down in a nuff-said manner, "it had to be said, since you're literally the only patron here that has not interrogated me with questions about the Knight of Knickers."

I snort, "then allow me to change that," I rest my head on my hand, "is he truly so dashing that his looks practically steal the knickers of the ladies around him?"

Aegon finishes buffing his glass and puts it down, looking up in thought, "mmm, I think it's mostly cause he's a prince that he's got the effect he's got. I've got no idea what possessed the first girl to throw her panties at him."

I giggle, "are you saying the prince is ugly?"

"Bit harsh, innit," Aegon pulls back, getting another glass, rubbing it down with his towel, "your words, not mine."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head, as I laugh at the light haired boy's muses, "you know, if we had been living at the height of the Targaryen rule, Daemon would have had your head for that, pretty boy."

"Gods, to be beheaded," he sighed, "a dream, rather than working here, taking about some monarch who lives off the money of the people."

I snort once more. Aegon's face softens as he breaks into a laugh himself.

"No, but honestly," he says putting down the glass and the towel, "you, my dear, are my saving grace. The highlight of my begrudgingly stretched out day," he stretches out a hand to me.

I chuckle at him as I take his hand. He presses a kiss on the back of it, making me grin at him in amusement.

"You're the only sane person here," he releases my hand, "everyone else is so desperate to brush shoulders with the prince, or simply even catch a of whiff of his flatulence."

I break out into a fit of chuckles, slamming firmly at the wood between us.

"No, I'm serious! I heard the fittest gal, a total bombshell, boasting with pride about how she managed a sniff of the bloke's fart."

I'm wheezing with laughter, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Aegon releases a deep and dramatic sigh, "what has the world come to?"

I wipe a tear as Aegon watches me empty myself of laughter. His face crinkles in a pleased expression, Adam's apple bobbing as he chuckles airily.

I sigh, catching my breath, "well, if I ever become that desperate, I ask that you pray for my soul."

Aegon presses his palms together, "praying for that girl as we speak."

I chuckle, folding the newspaper before me, "I must say, I am actually desperate to meet the wild child myself."

Aegon drops his hands along with his humored expression.

I cannot help but laugh at him as I continue to fold the paper, "though, I would say I am the desperate kind that is so desperate..." I eye him as I press the grey material together, "that I, somehow, dread to meet him at all."

Aegon snorts, screwing his eyes shut as he wipes his face, "the Stranger. Don't say things like that! I nearly had a heart attack believing you."

"No, but it's true, Aegon!" I say with a faux wounded pout, "prince Daemon is my great love, we have been destined to meet for millennia!"

Aegon leans on the table, humming as he nodds his head, "yes, and I suppose I am Aegon the Conqueror."

I lean towards him and grab his jaw, "no, you look more like Aegon II. The spitting image, I dare say."

He scoffs, swatting me off, "I'm hotter than him."

I pull away, "yes. That I can agree with, pretty boy. Personal hygiene does wonders."

Aegon snorts and plays off the blush on his cheeks by wiping his nose with his thumb, "you speak as though you met him."

I straighten up, "that's because I have. He was once my nephew."

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. His face contorts at the thought.

I raise my brows at him, "have I not told you I am not only a Targaryen historian, an expert at that, but I am also a patron of the Museum of Ice and Fire? I'm married into their family."

"Okay," he raises a finger, "ew."

I snort.

Aegon lifts his jaw and hums, "well, now that you mentioned it, I always knew you were one of those insanely rich blokes who frequent here. I was thinking you were a mafia boss or something though."

I scoff in amusement, raising my brows at him.

He pushes his white sleeves up then raises his hand in defense, "you have a very intense aura about you."

"That's because you trigger my fight mode," I retort.

He huffs, "do I? I'm scared to know what you'll do to me when I've seen what you do to men who hit on you."

"Aww, don't worry," I coo, "I wouldn't hurt my pretty, baby boy."

Aegon doesn't get to reply when a customer calls his attention. With this, he pulls away and leaves me to my own devices.

We don't get to continue our conversation at all, for it was clear that the rush hour had begun.

I eventually pulled back and decided to entertain myself while my favorite bartender was busy. I swiveled on my stool, looking out to the room, spotting the jukebox collecting dust in the corner. I smile at the sight of it, thinking about how it was still here after all these years, in spite of being older than Aegon.

I stand from my seat and walk over to it.

Aegon, finding one patron missing, frantically looks around then calms, raising a brow.

I place my hands on the jukebox, bending over to check if it was plugged in.

Aegon snorts as he hands a man a beer, eyes not at all fixed on him, "that doesn't work, love."

"Mmm, ye of little faith."

Aegon is annoyed by the man that sits on the vacated stool, blocking his vision. In retaliation, he blocks out the sound of his voice. Aegon calls out, "if you can make that hunkajunk work, I'll clear your tab for you."

I chuckle as I pull the machine forward, checking its wiring, "I wouldn't want to make a kid working on minimum wage to pay for me at all."

"I only said I would clear your tab, doll face," is all he replies before he goes back to tending to drinks again.

I break into chuckles as I fiddle with the wires on the back. I admit, it took me quite a while to go through everything, which was why Aegon warned that he would not call an ambulance for me if I got electrocuted.

The sight of the jukebox coming to life was enough to shut him up.

I get to my feet with a huff, brushing my hands off with each other. I turn to Aegon, who was already looking at me in astonishment, along with a few other people in the room.

I smirk, "my tab then?"

"Good as gone," Aegon shakes his head in disbelief, cutting his hand across his neck.

I release a satisfied sigh as I punch at the hardened buttons and play whatever it was that was available to be played.

When the music starts, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off with the music. The sound brings back some memories I had in the 1940's. If I recall correctly, it was around this time Daemon's father, King Baelon, was crowned.

I slowly moved to the rhythm of the song, swaying my hips, waving my extended arms out as I made my way to the center of the room.

Aegon stilled in his spot upon seeing this. His breath caught in his throat and he was only brought back to reality when someone demanded a gin. He looked around the room as he poured that idjit his drink and clenched his jaw tightly when he saw the onlooking crowd.

He snorts loudly, grabbing his towel, throwing it over his shoulder roughly, clearing his throat with more noise than necessary.

I smile to myself when I hear Aegon's familiar coughing. He had a tendency to do this whenever men around me started to be a bother. And I loved him dearly for it. He was a sweet boy.

With my eyes still closed, I continue dancing to the soothing song. My smile grows bigger when a section comes that tickles my musical senses. I chuckle as I twirl in my spot.

When I felt a hand come to my waist, I didn't have to open my eyes to know it was Aegon. He wouldn't have let anyone come near me at all without barking up a storm.

I hummed at the scent of him, familiar yet foreign to me at once. He must have changed his cologne. I prefer this one better. He pulls me close when I reach out to him, grabbing one of his hands and placing a palm on his shoulder. His dress shirt is softer than what I imagined it to be.

I am surprised when he leads us into a ballroom dance. In fact, I am so shocked, I open my eyes and see a blur of his white shirt and blonde hair as he spins me around.

I break into a fit of chuckles, screwing my eyes shut in pure bliss when he dips me, "I had no idea you were a dancer, pretty boy."

"Yes, well, journalists don't find it interesting enough to write about."

My eyes burst open at the sound of the deep voice.

My heart is pounding at the sight of the smirking man with silver hair. I nearly faint at the violet irises so close to mine.

"I do say," his hot breath fans on my face, "if we were spotted by one now, they'd have a field day."

I jolt upright and shove the man away. He doesn't seem to be offended by my harsh actions, and, in fact, chuckles as he reels back from my action, "not what I had expected and not the reaction I usually get, but there's a first for everything."

My breath hitches when he smiles at me. I turn from him, to Aegon, who was staring coldly from his place behind the bar. It seems the rest of the people here were doing the same as well, gobsmacked by the presence of the man in the middle of the room

I roll my shoulders back, turning to my dance partner, "Prince Daemon," I mutter, bowing my head slowly, "pardon my rudeness."

He chuckles, waving me off as he stuffs a hand in his pocket, "oh, no need to be so formal, my dear. I can understand the shock," he tilts his head at me, lips still curved, "you surely weren't expecting to be dancing with the prince and thought me to be someone else, no?"

I look at him and stare in silence. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.

Everything was suddenly so real, and it was making my mind and my heart race.

Aegon watches this and clears his throat loudly.

It does not help anyone.

Daemon raises his brows at me in expectation, placing his other hand in his pocket as he leans on one leg.

I open my mouth. A second passes before I mutter, "I thought you were my pretty boy."

His lips spread into a toothy grin. Airy chuckles leave him, "I can be your pretty boy."

When he extends his hand out to me, it was like the heavens opened and I could hear the angels sing.

This was the moment I have been waiting for since that day that I came back to life and kissed him goodbye with a promise of finding him in his next one.

My breath was heavily taxed when I lifted my hand.

My soul nearly leaves me when I jolt in shock over the sound of a record scratching and jumping, repeating over and over again.

In that moment, I am hit by an epiphany. I am so overwhelmed with emotions that I could barely breathe. The sight of Daemon before me brought tears to my eyes. This was all I ever wanted, and yet-- and yet-- I was drowning. I could not breathe properly.

"I..." I shudder, making Daemon's face fall, "I have to go," I mutter through a strained breath.

Daemon knits his brows, shifting in his spot with his hand still out, "what?"

Aegon watched with tightly knit brows as I ran out of the room.

The prince drops his hand and spins on his heels, eyes locked on the runaway. His nostrils flare as his face contorts in confusion, "wait! Stop! Where are you going?!"

I heave heavily as I push past people on my way out. I am absolutely winded when I exit the establishment, hands shivering from both the cold and the nerves that were getting to me in this moment.

I walk aimlessly farther out, down to the lawn that was now dark, since it was gods-know-what hour.

"Wait!"

My heart drops.

I spin around when someone grabs my wrist. My heart is still quick in my chest when I see Daemon, heaving. His short, light hair was slightly tousled in its place. He knits his brows at me, tilting his head, "you dare leave your prince, Cinderella?"

My jaw hangs low.

He releases a sigh, shaking his head, "I forbid it."

Seeing him here and now made everything feel more Real with a capital R.

Daemon adjusts his grip on my wrist, pulling his hand back, so that he was now holding my hand.

I look at him, blinking the glassiness of my eyes away, still in shock of his presence. A million questions were running through my head, and I was glad to be able to even have the mind to ask one in this moment, "do you know me, Daemon?"

He tilts his head upon hearing this, brows knitting, lips curving. He releases a chuckle at the lack of formality and how haphazard the question was, but finds himself further drawn because of it, "no," he shakes his head, "but I would love to know you."

Hearing the words come out of his mouth shatters something in me.

He did not know me.

I turn away from him as I try to even my breath. I retreat my hand and step back as a shiver runs down my spine.

And yet here he was, chasing after me.

Daemon steps forward to make up for the space between us, "don't leave. Come back inside with me. I'll give you my coat, then you can boast that the prince of Valyria gave it to you."

I continue stepping back as I shake my head, "you don't understand," I mutter under my breath in High Valyrian.

"Then make me understand," he retorts in the same tongue with a chuckle as he shakes his head and takes a wide stride over to me, grabbing my hand again.

I gasp at the warmth of his touch. When I turn back to him, tears have finally fallen from my eyes.

Daemon's face hardens at the sight of it. His hand reaches out to my face, wiping the wetness away. The sight of his torn expression tears at me, bringing me more tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asks in High Valyrian.

I do not get to reply, as suddenly there is a loud burst from behind us, commanding both our attentions.

It's Aegon. He busted through the door with my things in his hand. Upon catching the sight of the two of us, he freezes, breathing heavily as the looks out.

Daemon's expression hardens; his grip on me tightens. He turns to me, jealousy coating his mouth when he catches I where I am looking, "is that your pretty boy?"

I do not reply to him as Aegon walks over.

Daemon pulls me close to him. I look up at him with teary eyes. Aegon looks between us, jaw tense as he hands me my bag, coat, and newspaper.

"Thank you, bartender," Daemon dismisses, patting Aegon on the shoulder, before turning from him to face me again.

When I catch Aegon's face, I finally have the wits to move.

I pull away from Daemon to put my coat on. I swallow a heavy lump in my throat at feel of the stares of the two men.

Once I have my coat on, I pull a card from my bag, handing it to Daemon. He wastes no time in taking it from me, immediately scrutinizing it.

"I'd..." I start, taking a deep breath, "like to see you again."

Daemon's eyes dart to me, breaking into a smile.

Butterflies explode in my stomach at the sight of him.

Aegon's face tenses.

I release a breath before asking, "when are you fr-"

"Whenever," Daemon blurts. He places the card in the breast pocket of his white shirt, "I'm free whenever."

I nod slowly at his words, "I have work tomorrow, but I do have a long lunch at 12-

"I'll call you a 11:55."

I purse my lips at his words, trying to hold back my chuckle, but failing, "11:55?"

Daemon grins, nodding once, "on the dot."

I chuckle, turning to my feet as I nod at his words, "11:55 then."

"On the dot," he nods, extending a hand out to rub his thumb on my cheek.

I turn to him just as Daemon pulls away and stuffs his hands back in his pockets, "I'll walk you."

I shake my head, turning to Aegon, who was still standing there, watching the whole interaction between us, "you don't have to. I have a car parked nearby."

"Then I'll walk you to your car."

I turn back to Daemon, who then offers his arm out to me. I smile, unable to deny him, or myself, of the offer. I take his arm, and the next moment, he leads us off.

I turn over my shoulder, raising a hand at Aegon while I offer him a smile, "see you, Aegon."

Aegon watches as I turn back.

There is a twisted feeling inside him that grows. He mutters softly. It is too soft for anyone but himself to hear, "see you."

[aloesarchives]

Tags/Warnings: Fem!Reader/Pronouns, Swearing, Gojo has a hard crush on you, Gojo vs Toji Part 3, The word ass being used, Toji straight up having beef and fighting a bunch of teenagers, Nicknames such as beloved and hon(ney), JJK OCs, Out of pocket moments and sayings, Me being an annoying narrator

[Semi-proofread, informal formatting, and edited as of 12/22/2023 10:18am CST]

Summary: One of the truths behind Toji's beef with Gojo

Word count: 2.8k words

(A/N: I spent 10pm-6am writing this because I just need to or I would never forgive myself if I didn't! I promise I will have some of the "Toji lives" AU posts ready by next week because your girl got her ADHD meds back in stock!! Thank you for being patient with me and my inconsistent updates!!) (12/22/2023 6:05am CST)

💙I love you all! 💙🥰😚💙

💙❤️Please Enjoy!!!💙❤️

The REAL reason Toji has major beef with Gojo is because Gojo had a crush on you during his high school days when you would sub for Yaga in the classroom and training sessions. He did try his best to keep it under wraps but Geto was like,

"Bro, she's the same age as Yaga-sensei. . . Stop reaching, Satoru. . . Do I need to remind you who (L/N)-sama is married to again?"

The Gojo responded with, "Suguru, I don't give a shit about that loser. He's a bum, anyway. The question you should be asking is why (L/N)-dono is fucking married and still in-love to a deadbeat like him. I would have been a better option. Face it Suguru, I'm right."

While Satoru has a point, as Suguru noted, it doesn't change the fact that Satoru was crushing on a MARRIED woman who had TWO kids.

Though it was true, Satoru would have technically been a good husband/father/lover. However, there are many reasons why it must be ruled out.

Satoru is over half your age. Picking him meant allegations and a prison cell. Gojo tried reasoning with you, "But (Y/N)-dono! Age is just a number, give me two years!" "And Prison is just a place, Satoru-kun. I don't want to be labeled as a child predator, let alone be framed for "seDuCinG" the Gojo heir. I want to have a clean record."

While his personality brought you happiness, his carefree nature would clash a lot with you. He can mature but his child-like spirit and carefree persona isn't something you would personally deal with.

He was more of your protégé/junior/student if anything. You saw him more as your son and acted like a parental figure. You wanted to watch him grow and mature. Not become his lover.

To spite the higher-ups and Jujutsu elders(excluding your clan). Given you were a powerful and skillful sorcerer, marrying Gojo would be "BeNeFiCiaL" to Jujutsu society. However, it meant that you were on a watchlist 24/7 and pressured to have an HeIR. It made you physically sick and ill thinking what those old useless dementia white-haired cowards are allow to do that just to better "society" but not its citizens.

You are MARRIED to a man who is trying to step up after his major fuck ups. It's not perfect but Toji is his best trying after you gave him his life and freedom. Since he technically can't leave your home or go to Jujutsu High without your supervision, he's basically househusband duty. And he was getting pretty damn good at it too. Plus Toji's hot, he got you feral and gnawing at your teeth with his signature smile and smirk. And the way his arms flex when he crosses them, or how they feel when you link arms together.

While it wasn't super obvious, okay it was obvious, you always shot down Satoru's playful confessions and light-hearted shenanigans. Basically rejecting him every time. Usually, Suguru would warn you in advance but you know it would happen with each interactions. While you firmly turned him down, you made him understand why it can't and WON'T happen. You still care for him, just never romantically, only platonically and motherly. You made it clear that his "love" for you was just a strong admiration and infatuation disguised as a crush.

Though he was heartbroken, at first. Satoru slowly understand what you mean and his crush slowly fades away as it's replaced with immense respect for you.

HOWEVER, it still linger and not widely known because Toji finally gets word of this through the grapevine. A.K.A, through his two children Megumi and Tsumiki. It happened one day when you brought the two to the school so you can keep a close eye on them since they didn't have school that day. Toji was out doing errands so the two kids are accompanying you. Megumi and Tsumiki were occupied with their books and toys while you taught and trained the students. Megumi and Tsumiki went to find you because they were hungry and you had their lunches. As they looked for you, they see you talking to Satoru. They meet him a couple of times but he's still a stranger to them compared to Shoko or Suguru. So when they see Gojo with you, all alone with no one around, they thought it was major sus.

As they snuck closer, they could hear bit and pieces of what Gojo is saying to you. Megumi lowkey thinks Gojo is super annoying and acts more of a child then he does. But what catches his ears first was something with along the lines of, "(L/N)-dono, please consider it-" "Satoru-kun, how many time will I need to say no to you? You know I can never feel for you that way. Plus it's bad for me to agree to it. You know that it's admiration and infatuation if anything. Not love."

See Megumi knows you only use love as in 'I love you" to him, his sister, and his dad. But to this dude? Nah, something fishy is going on and Megumi gotta tell his dad about it. Megumi comes running, yelling "Mommy!!!". You and Satoru turn to see your son running to you and colliding with your legs. You crouch down and pat your son's head and smile at your daughter following behind him. Megumi hands your hand tightly as you lead them away to have lunch with your kids. Satoru made a face at Megumi when he saw the kid glare at him.

Once you three made it home, you're in the bathroom changing into some home clothes. Meanwhile, Toji was cooking dinner while Megumi and Tsumiki were waiting for you at the dinner table. As Toji was asking them about their day with you, Megumi brought up Gojo's advances and confession towards you. When Megumi said this, the beef Toji was about to flip plopped right back onto the pan. He looks back at Megumi and asks if there's anything else that he can share. As Megumi shares what he has seen through his perspective, Toji asks Tsumiki to confirm is this is all true, to which she said yes, backing up Megumi's claims.

"Yeah, Papa. Satoru-kun is weird. Even though Mama keeps saying she's married to you, he still does it. Tsumiki saw it too."

"I see... Thank you, Megumi and Tsumiki for watching and taking care of Mama for me. I appreciate it a lot. Can you tell her that dinner is almost ready?"

The kids nodded and went to go get you. After dinner and putting the kids to bed, you were sipping your favorite drink as Toji is doing the dishes. You would have helped him but he said no. While you two were talking, he brings up Satoru and his school crush on you.

"Toji, beloved, you know that it's just a small crush. It's nothing more then puppy love for me. Nothing more and nothing less. And you know that you're the only man that I am willing to give my heart to."

"I know that, (Y/N). But what does this brat got on me to think he's a better match for you? Just because this kid is practically a god doesn't mean everyone will bow down to him. I'm definitely not one of them. And to know that said brat is flirting with you even though you're visibly married with kids, he needs to read the room. I will be going with you to school tomorrow. The kids go back to school the next day, and I already got this week's groceries and cleaned the house."

You would have protested if Toji didn't give you a searing kiss while caging you in his arms. Fuck he looked so hot. Curse him and his good looks *punching the air*.

"Fine, you can come. BUT, Toji you need to behavior yourself. You already knew the deal. You better not be doing any funny business."

"Yes, Ma'am. You're the boss, I promise you." Toji says as he gave you a kiss on the cheek before lightly patting your ass.

After dropping the kids off, Toji accompanies you to the school. Toji is just silent and sits in one of the chairs as you do your lessons. Toji is leaning on the chair with a smirk plastered on his face. Not a care in the world. After a few lessons, you were going to teach and train Gojo, Geto, and Shoko for the rest of the school day. As you went to their classroom, they greet you, especially Gojo. However, the mood changed when they saw Toji walk in behind you, wearing nothing but a black slim fit t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Toji gave a head nod to the teens while he just takes a seat in a chair to lean on it. The three were shock to see him.

Particularly because they did expect him to come with you to the school at all. Suguru had an idea but he hoped it wasn't going to be it. After teaching a lesson, you told the three to practice their curse techniques and let their curse energy loose. While doing so, you told them that you would have to speak to Yaga for a bit on something and would be back 15 minutes tops. You told Toji to behave, and he nodded and gave a thumbs up. As you leave the kids and your husband on the train grounds, that's when the storm started brewing. Toji walks up to Gojo and is 3 feet from him. He smirks while looking at him up and down, sizing him up. Shoko and Suguru are on the sidelines as Toji, a married adult male in his 30s, was beefing with a 16 year old high school student.

Suguru: "Satoru, I don't think this is a good idea-"

Satoru: "Hush now, Suguru. . . It's my time to shine. . . Watch the master at work."

Suguru proceeds to roll his eyes but becomes a little weary after his last encounter with Toji was. . . unideal. Given one of their teachers was shot in the throat by Toji saving Anamai, and himself getting injured. It wasn't something he wanted to constantly get reminded of. But ever since you liberated Toji from the higher ups and explained it to your students, Suguru has slowly been changing his views on Toji. It will take a while but it's getting there. Anyhow, Suguru told Shoko to book it once the two were going to throw down.

Satoru: "So, what brings you back here, Toji~? You just couldn't get me out of that little mind of yours~? You're mad I'm 1-0 with you?"

Toji: "Kid, I'm pretty sure that it's 1-1 since I won our first battle. Anyway, I heard through the grapevine that you gave (Y/N) a love confession. Don't you know it's bad to confess and hit on a married woman who has kids? Were you taught any manners? Then again, by the way you act, you probably have none."

Satoru: "You're just mad, Old Man. That I, Satoru Gojo, would treat (Y/N)-dono better and treat her worth. Face it, Old Man. I'm a better match for her than you'll ever be."

Toji: "Like she ever goes for someone half her age, Brat. Plus, you'll never look at you as a lover ever. You're more of a son to her and that's the closest you'll get."

Satoru: "Well, she doesn't need a bum like you around. Imagine fighting a bunch of teens and getting your ass beat by said teens. Skill issue if you ask me."

Toji: "Watch your tongue, Boy. Remember who made you struggle for the first time in your life and actually killed you. While, you know, fucking up your best friend, the second strongest sorcerer, with no curse energy? I got your ass with no gifts other than being a superhuman with weapons. You can never beat me, I'm just built different, Kid."

Satoru: "You wanna test that, Toji~? You got no curse weapons with you. I can pack you up like you're a school lunch."

Toji: "Kid, please. I don't need any weapons to beat you, let alone kill you. You see this? This is a rock, and I can use it to beat you. I also still have my hands too. And I am more then willing to give it to you, Gojo~kun."

Satoru: "You think I'm scared of someone like you? I've ascended, enlighten if you will. If you even know what that word is. Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one. Remember those words, Fushiguro-san? Remember them good because I will put you six feet underground."

Toji: "I see then, Kid. . . So you're playing God? I guess that makes me a God Slayer then. . . Prepare yourself, Kid. . ."

Satoru: "Alright, bet then, Bozo."

Thus, Gojo and Toji started to go at each other for round 3. Shoko was already gone and the two started fighting in the training grounds. Five minutes have already passed and they have made five decently sized craters. Just as both of them were about to throw a punch at each other, they suddenly felt a powerful presence which halted them. They turn to you walking towards them with a furious face unimaginable.

"GOJO SATORU AND TOJI (L/N) FUSHIGURO!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?!?! I LEAVE FOR LESS THAN HALF AN HOUR AND I GET CALLED BACK BECAUSE OF THIS!?!?"

"(Y/N)-dono!!"

"(Y/N)!"

You moved like a blur and appeared next to them vice gripping their forearms tightly. You dragged them to the nearest empty classroom you can find or any room. You were just so livid that you didn't hear Gojo whining about your grip and asking to let you go like a child. As you let them go once you dragged them far enough, you smacked both of them hard on the head. Shoko and Gojo were watching this as Yaga appeared right next to them shortly. It was interesting seeing two of the most broken people in the world kneeling with their heads down in-front of a woman who doesn't have god-like abilities.

"GOJO, WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT USING BOTH OF YOUR ABILITIES DURING TRAINING SESSIONS!?!? YOU KNOW THE CALAMITY AND DAMAGE YOU COULD'VE CAUSED!?"

"BUT (Y/N)-dono! He-"

"NO BUTS, GOJO!! AND YOU, TOJI, I LITERALLY JUST SAID NO FUNNY BUSINESS AND YOU'RE ABOUT TO CREATE THE NEXT SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. I DON'T NEED ANOTHER RAPTURE HERE. I'M STILL DEALING WITH THE AFTERMATH FROM THE TWO OF YOU AS IT IS!!!"

"Okay, Hon. I take full responsibility for my actions today."

"YOU BETTER, TOJI!!! YOU'RE A FULL GROWN MARRIED MAN WITH TWO KIDS!!!"

"But (Y/N)-dono, I was not going to kill him last time-"

"NO ONES DYING HERE!!! NEITHER OF YOU WILL NOT DIE AS LONG AS I AM AROUND. I WON'T LET THE BOTH OF YOU KILL EACH OTHER OVER SOME PETTINESS AND A BOY CRUSH."

You start to calm down but you are still firm with them.

"I know this started because of Satoru's crush on me. . . Satoru, I will not love you romantically and date you. Please understand that. I care for you like family and that is said for the rest of you. Yes you, Suguru, Shoko, and Yaga. And Toji, I'm not leaving you for a child. I would be in jail and not working here. . . Geez, I saw this from a mile away but never expected this to happen. Now, you two better behave yourselves or else. You two don't have to say sorry or anything like of the sort. Just don't go tearing at each other's throats when I both am and am not around. Please, for me. . ."

The two looked at each other before saying a soft yeah. After that, Yaga told you to go home early and he would take it from there. You had to patch up Toji a bit but it wasn't anything of concern. From then on, Toji and Gojo just banter and bicker with each other. It's funny to watch except for Megumi since he's seeing his dad beefing with his unofficial adoptive older brother 24/7.

Satoru eventually grows out of his crush for (Y/N) but Suguru and Shoko never let him down. Hell, it's a running gag in the school about Gojo's old crush on you. Gojo always gets super embarrassed about it, especially when you join in but it's all fun and games with you all.

The only person who genuinely hates it is Megumi because the thought of Gojo having romantic feelings for you and trying to woo you made Megumi visibly ill and sick to his core. He would lowkey help his dad beat up Gojo if Gojo's crush on you became serious again.

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💙Author's Notes💙: 💙I am truly grateful to each and everyone of you in showing me that my writing is enjoyable to read!!! I appreciate you all from the bottom of my heart for making my comeback worthwhile! I hate to sound giga cringe but every single one of you that likes, reblogs, and comments on my writing post make me want to continue writing because I know that there are people out there that like what I make.💙 💙So once again, I am truly grateful and feel appreciative that everyone single one of you enjoy what I have been writing. I hope you all stay healthy, drink your water/favorite drink, treat yourself kindly, and take a break because you earned it!💙🥰 ❄️💙💙Happy Holidays to all of you, my GOATS!!!💙💙❄️

[wordsbymae]

Honestly I wouldn’t mind if ya did a story that was just breeding kink baby fever pregnancy centered focused 🙈 No thoughts head empty just 🌽

But I do have to ask out of your ocs who’d actually make a great father vs shitty father vs meh father? And what are some of ya ocs parental habits for raising the babies?

Hi!! Honestly I wish I was sooooo much better at smut cause that's all I would write. I'm trying to get back into writing smut but I'm really not very good at it, but I'm practising! Also i promised a fic tonight but I'm tired and my writing is shit so I'll have a red hot crack go tomorrow after work.

Ok so I'll just do out of my yandere ocs, cause they are the ones everyone is more familiar with. TW: talks about domestic abuse

Great Father goes to the Farmer for sure. Look he's got traditional (aka outdated views) but that doesn't mean he would ever disown his children. He had a really horrible childhood and he always promised himself he would do a better job as a parent then his own ever did. He is very hands on, giving his children life skills and most importantly the belief that they can overcome what life throws at them. The farmer knows how hard life is, so he tries to instil good work ethic and most of all a be good to others way of thinking. Being a helping hand is important to him.

He may not like people that much, but being someone others can rely on made him feel as though he is wanted and worthwhile when he was always told by his parent's he was not. He would unfortunately believe in boy's things and girl's things. But that doesn't mean if a son of his wants to help mama sew or a girl of his wants to help him fix the truck he's going to go crazy. No, of course not, he believes that ALL life skills, whether others believe them to be men or women jobs, need to be taught to children. So he doesn't care about division of labour based on gender.

What makes him a bit weary is if his son wants to wear florals or pinks, or if his daughter ONLY wears masculine clothes, especially if they go into town. He's just not comfortable about it. However, over time I think he just wouldn't care anymore and would only fuss if they are wearing improper clothes to work on the farm with. Likewise he wouldn't disown his children if they came out as queer, he would most likely make really cringy jokes and ask embarrassing questions and then say something like "Oh, so I can't ask my child a genuine question? Is that not politically correct now?", but like sir, please the question was embarrassing.

But yeah, once he kinda understood it he would come to terms with it and actually would be funny. Like if someone in town asks him if he's proud of his kid for coming out hell say (absolutely seriously) "why the fuck should I be proud of them coming out of the house, why do kids these days need praise for every little thing they do!". like he wouldn't understand what the phase coming out even means. Anyway on to the next!

Meh Father goes to the Mad King. The man is all bark no bite. He pretty much only wants children as heirs and also to have levrage over the reader. He's not horrible by any means, he spoils his children when they deserve it, but he also makes them understand that nothing good in life is freely given and you have to take it. But unfortunately he also causes rivalries between his children. They are desperate for any attention/praise from him that they will try to out compete one another to gain it. Often resulting in arguments and injuries.

Reader (whether they wanted children or not) has to act overly motherly and affectionate to their children to counteract his actions. There is no favouritism or stern reminders of their places as heirs, just warm, welcoming love. Also his children aren't idiots, they can all tell that their parent's did not marry for love. At least on their mother's side.

They are torn between desperately wanting their father, the king, to show them true love not just cold approval and hating him for the emotional abuse he has put their mother through. It's actually kinda sad, because he was always desperate for the attention and love of his father and now he's caused the same thing between his own children.

There is moments of affection and love but the more he see's himself or god forbid his brother in his children, he begins to be very cold and distant. The man kinda forgot that a kid is 50/50 not just 100% their mother's. That's why his youngest is his favourite, although he would never tell anyone ever. His youngest is pretty much reader cloned, looks, personality, and everything. When he looks at them he is harshly reminded what he took away from reader the day he became king.

Bad Father goes to the Killer. This man would have absolutely no fucking clue what the fuck to do. And he would not care to try. Reader (who is usually gn but for the sake of this is afab) is heartbroken when they realise they are pregnant, and Killer has no idea why they won't stop crying. And why do they keep being sick all the time. A primal part of him likes the idea of caring and providing for his darling and their children, in fact he loves it.

When he figured out reader was pregnant, he started stocking up in furs, wood, meat and cloth. He made a crib from what he remembered his little brother's to be (omg lore drop). He likes to provide, but damn does he actually hate having a child. He leaves ALL baby stuff to reader, he pretty much refuses to look after or even pick up the baby. He gives reader all the resources they need and the Killer calls it a good job done. The poor kid(s) grow up very isolated and confused. Their mama loves them with everything they have but their pa won't even acknowledge them.

Resentment grows as they do. They of course don't really understand why they are here and why their mother/parent is with killer, because it's all they have ever known. They've known nothing other than this. I can see this going either two ways. One day the oldest snaps, they are sick and tired of listening to the screams of the their father's victims. Their mother/parent tries so hard to keep them from barging out of their small shack.

The eldest faces their father, who has grown grey over the years. However, he is still a scary and strong man, and the eldest falters slightly, it's enough for the Killer to smack their eldest to the ground telling them to go back inside. Reader sees this and just loses it. They have spent a good chunk of their life under Killer's thumb. They have seen so much death and violence they have become almost immune. But to see their child being struck by the man who killed all her friends all those years ago just causes absolute rage.

Reader picks up the old shotgun that they found hidden in the attic, they were always too scared to use it, especially when the kid(s) came. But now its time. Killer doesn't stand a chance.

OR the other way is that once the kid(s) reach maturity they follow in their father's footsteps unfortunately for reader and finally get their father's approval. I like the first idea better.

Hope you liked it! I should have my home invader story out tomorrow!

[asukaskerian]

bleach daemon AU - outside POV on harribel

so a couple centuries (5 years) ago i asked for prompts for this (grimmichi) verse. most of them are still languishing in my file.

but then i was prodding at the fullbringers arc and i was like "lol i could add some yakuzas" because, lol, in the last fic of that series there's an outsider pov on a yakuza. (he thinks ichigo is an oyabun's young heir and grimmjow is his hitman bodyguard. it's hilarious.) and then this ficlet was like "i will be short to complete and then, having gotten back into the yakuza oc mindset, you can go back to the multipart!" (it was a lie) but anyway.

--

anonymous asked: In the Grimmichi Daemonverse, could you have Nel and/or Harribel come try out the daemon thing? Then Ichigo could be seen hanging out not only with his hot yakuza boyfriend but also with hot dangerous-looking women, like he's slowly growing his harem :)

it alas did not end up looking like a harem. but, lol anyway.

Jin's daemon Rin is a snake i forget which kind and Yamatora's daemon Queen is a little terrier dog. Grimmjow's panther is Leucanthe and Ichigo's lioness is Rikuto. Oh and some of Grimmjow's fraccion survived and are hanging around in gigai too.

--

Times were, Jin and Rin liked it when the big boss's eyes fell on them and he said things like, "ah, I can entrust you with that thing". Felt important, like understanding, like respect.

Now Rin coils tighter around his neck and resists the urge to sigh.

"Urahara-dono, sir?"

The boss nods slowly. "You're good with the weird," his daemon says.

Jin does not feel very complimented.

"Take your newbie with you. Urahara-dono's heir knows him, doesn't he?"

Urahara-dono's heir regards Jin's trainee the way one regards a dumb, hapless chicken in a field full of foxes and tiger pits -- with vague, despairing concern. It's, Jin supposes, not the worst thing. He could be regarding him like a newly powerful man regards the punk who used to try to beat him up behind the grocery store.

Jin supposes the operative word here is "try".

"Yes, sir," he replies, dutiful if not enthused.

"Oh, and I'm sending Matsuoka too. He's got to get used to dealing with Urahara-dono's cohort if he wants to get anywhere as an underboss," the big boss mutters, and Jin feels very briefly doomed.

--

Matsuoka-san is a very new underboss; a modern, ambitious type. His daemon is a falcon -- observant, wary, viciously fast to attack. He comes from a sister family to the Kishiume and he has a great many fresh ideas to revolutionize the criminal underworld.

He also has no fucking clue why the big boss went so far as to meet with some unkempt undercover-as-a-shopkeeper guy with no bonds of brotherhood to any other family when as far as anybody can tell he has twenty men tops and isn't trading out any weapons or sellable shit.

He'll learn, Jin knows.

"Or he'll get dead," Rin mutters. Jin doesn't even bother huffing his reaction.

"What'd you say, Rin-san?" Queen asks solicitously, craning her neck to catch a glimpse.

"Nothing of importance. Turn left at the next crossroads."

They turn left. Yamatora is humming nervously, fingers tapping the wheel, but he's a surprisingly good driver. He maintains his speed with machine-like precision and uses his turn signal religiously. They're not going to get pulled over today, no matter how completely suspicious the semi-trailer truck is, driving through narrow suburb streets as it is.

Inside there's a giant tub of water and a rigged-together bunch of sprinklers and some pulley system for a stretcher. Jin officially does not want to even wonder.

Matsuoka-san is following them in his sports car. If anybody gets them stopped today he will.

--

They get to the Urahara shop; park the truck on the stretch of beaten earth before its front door. Step out of the truck. The front steps are home to three men -- two of them massive and well-muscled, the last whipcord-thin and playing with something that shines in the sunlight. Jin does not want to take a single step closer to them. They bother him the same way Kurosaki-san's bodyguard bothers him -- something crazy in the gleam of their grinning teeth. He goes anyway.

He lets Matsuoka-san go first, though. It isn't his place to tell the underboss to be careful of bottom-rung flunkies.

"Tell your boss the Kishiume envoys are here," Matsuoka-san starts with, his falcon mantling her wings pointedly. Rin hisses quietly, winds herself tighter. Queen briefly cowers behind Tora's legs, and then wanders out to swagger awkwardly as they try to provide backup.

The three men stare back for a long couple of seconds, and then the scrawny one with the fat lizard laughs, like they have an inside joke and it's on Matsuoka-san.

"Be polite," the red-haired one chides mildly, his baboon smiling in a too-human way for fangs that size. "Go get him."

"Yeah, yeah," the scrawny guy goes, standing up, and disappears indoors, daemon wrapped around his shoulders like a yellow-and-black scarf. The sliding door snaps closed behind him as he stomps on wooden boards loud enough to be heard from outside.

The guy who emerges isn't Urahara-dono. It's the crazy panther guy.

The panther slinks out of the door first, casually brushing against the last guy's warthog, and on her heels comes the man, loose-limbed and his eyelids heavy, unimpressed. He scans their trio and says nothing to Matsuoka-san, visibly at the head of it, stares at Jin himself for a second longer. Nods, to him and not to the underboss.

"I remember you."

That is... not something Jin knows whether to appreciate or not, but he nods back, expressionless.

The panther sits, licks her paw with casual unconcern. "Thanks for last time. We had fun."

Yamatora blinks dumbly. "Oh, at the p--" Jin elbows him. The hitman smirks.

And they've officially reached the end of Matsuoka-san's patience. Daemon fluffing up her feathers in annoyance, he takes a step forward. "I asked to see your boss. Where is he."

An arctic-blue look spears him right back. "No, you asked for their boss. That's me."

... Oh, hell. This is now a pissing contest. Jin knew it. He doesn't even know who to bet on; Matsuoka-san has a gun and a lot of rage, but the hitman is... The vibes. No. His panther is just going to leap and pluck the falcon right out of the air before anyone can even throw a punch, how can Matsuoka-san not see that?

Also how the hell does it work? Kurosaki-san is training under Urahara-dono, so how--

"Grimmjow, what the hell -- oh, you guys are here! Awesome."

And Kurosaki-san's daemon is now peeking out of the door, sans her human, looking as innocently curious as a black lioness can possibly be. She doesn't pad out, likely not wanting to strain her bond; instead she just... stares at Queen, and blinks myopically, and goes "Oh, hey, I know you. I think? Hi."

"I'm Queen!" Queen yaps, bristled in offense. "Queen and Yamatora!"

"Oh right! Taroyama. Yeah. I remember. Anyway!"

Tora and his daemon are suffocating with spluttery offense. Rin and Jin would be offended too if they thought Kurosaki-san actively meant to be offensive, but the fact of the matter is that she just doesn't seem to care enough to be deliberate.

They're not sure if she meant to utterly ignore Matsuoka-san to start with, but when his daemon starts angling out her wings like she plans to dive and strike, they know it's not gonna matter in the long run.

Kurosaki-san turns her heavy head up to the falcon, nods, expression a little more reserved. "Kishiume-sama's representative, huh? I'm Kurosaki Rikuto. Thanks for coming, we appreciate it."

"Do you," Matsuoka-san says back, jaw clenched. "Greeting us with disrespectful little punks, and then with half of you--"

The way the black jaguar slowly moves to stand between him and the lioness says nothing good. "I'm sure he couldn't help it," Jin says before the hitman can open his mouth and shoot something really impolitic right back.

"Yeah, he's -- ow, fuck." The lioness shakes her head, as if hurt; from inside the shop comes a muffled, "Grimmjow! Can someone come help me hold her down?!"

"Leu?" the lioness asks, and the panther groans.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Kanchana, you and Edrad are in charge. You guys know what we need."

The hitman and his daemon amble back inside without another word. Fuming, Matsuoka-san hisses between his teeth, daemon with her feathers all puffed up.

The redhead with the baboon stands, a faint smirk on his face that could pass for apologetic in the right light. "Alright. Sorry for this. Things have been a bit chaotic this morning. It should go much smoother now that you and your men are here to assist. That the trailer? Can I check it out?"

--

At Edrad's instructions, they've turned the truck and the trailer around to back it against the front door. Matsuoka-san has been gritting his teeth over not being invited inside for the whole ten minutes it took, and Jin and Rin have been standing next to the big, silent one and his warthog in mutual, warily respectful quiet for just as long as the blond brat with the lizard pops in and out of a window to the side of the building to relay informations.

"Who do you think they were holding down?" Tora whispers in his other ear. "The journalist?"

"The journalist was months ago. It'd be over with by now."

Matsuoka-san narrows his eyes, as if he wants to ask for the story but knows better than to do it in a yard where everyone comes and goes. "Or they were giving us a half-assed excuse not to greet us properly. Who the fuck does that kind of business in the same rooms they receive people--"

From the shop comes a sudden, ragged scream; a woman's scream, raw and gut-deep. The three of them tense, Tora's eyes going wide. The big man beside them blinks down at them placidly.

"--Okay, who the fuck does that kind of business somewhere they can be heard from the street?"

Inside they can hear a mad scramble of feet approaching through the shop; the screams die down into gasps even as they get closer and -- bumps and thuds, feet, the trailer swaying under the growing weight of... they can see nothing, the trailer parked so damn close and the big man standing there blocking the hair-thin gap between it and the door. The paper squares of the screen are opaque and the light is stronger outside and Jin can see nothing but shadows.

Rin sees a lot of warm spots moving around, but that doesn't say much more.

"What... What do you think she did?" Queen whispers from Tora's arms, quaking just barely. Rin strikes at her nose, annoyed.

"How many times do I have to tell you, it doesn't matter what she did, or her lover did, it's not your business."

Their only job is to assist with transport. Transport of a screaming woman who needed to be held down, in a trailer with a tank of water more than big enough to submerge someone. Yeah, it's gonna be a right dirty job.

But Urahara-dono asked for that favor, to pay back some favor he did the boss a way back that's been hanging over his head for years. Here they are and that's it.

He hopes being asked to take the fall isn't going to be part of it. Surely the boss would have warned them. Or he would have given Jin and Rin someone else than Tora and Queen. Right now all they can do that isn't drive the truck and beat up people is provide a convenient corpse, and ... No, Jin didn't get that vibe. Which is good because he got kind of used to Tora's dependable stupidity.

--

They get asked to deliver the trailer to a secret address.

The address is a beach. A craggy little thing tucked between two cliffs, pebbles instead of sand with big splashing waves and a quick drop toward the depths. A great place to dump corpses.

Maneuvering the trailer down that beach is a six-person job; the two big henchmen, the blue-haired hitman, Kurosaki-san, and Jin and Tora themselves. It's heavy, and the slope is pronounced.

The water inside keeps splashing out, even though the thing inside seems to be doing its best not to move.

The waves lap at their legs, ankles first and then thighs. It's cold. Not a season for swimming. Kurosaki gets slapped in the face by a wave and huffs. "Ugh. Okay -- okay, a bit more. Harribel-san?"

Then the trailer shifts and bobs, half-carried by the waves, and unlocks from the inside.

The loading ramp flops down, slapping the water. A woman emerges to stand on the threshold.

Jin stops breathing.

He hopes he's being discreet. He hopes she doesn't notice he exists.

"Holy shiiit, babe alert," Tora whispers, and from her perch across his shoulder Queen perks up, scanning her shoulders and around her legs for the daemon. Rin strikes out without a thought, hitting Queen's flank with her snout and stopping herself from sinking in her fangs at the very last second. Does he want to get them all fucking killed?!

Queen yips in betrayed surprise. The woman's eyes glance over them. Jin stands very, very straight and mentally catalogs his weapons; he barely relaxes when she finally looks away.

"That is not someone's girlfriend," he hisses under his breath. Sure she's tanned and blonde like any gyaru from the clubs but if she's more than half Japanese he'll cut off his pinky on the spot. She's... something else.

Back on the shore Matsuoka-san and his daemon are bristled up like they're still working themselves up to snarling something. Time to take one for the team. The big boss had better be thankful.

"Your pardon, ma'am. Do you need any help to unload?"

Whatever it is inside there, that the men didn't let them see carry in. Whatever they're carrying in water (water daemon?) to a disposal area (screaming woman with cement shoes?) that they will no doubt see now unless they leave straight away, and Matsuoka-san won't. He feels too slighted to allow them the discretion.

She looks down at him from above and her eyes are depthless, suffocating.

"If she needs help it sure as fuck won't be yours," the hitman laughs. "Yo, Harribel, you vacationing up here?"

She doesn't answer the hitman's jeer; she looks at him for a second and then back at Jin, and her voice is low, husky. "I will manage. Step back onto the shore. Grimmjow, have Nakeem hold onto the hitch."

The hitman makes a permissive hand gesture and the man with the warthog obeys. Kurosaki-san herds everyone else out of the water in big splashing steps, and they're still ankle deep when the trailer rocks and something massive slips out.

Jin was keeping watch over his shoulder. He still barely has the time to see the long body slip down the ramp -- white belly, dark back, fins --

"Is that a shark?" Matsuoka-san chokes out.

"It's obviously a fucking tortoise," the hitman drawls back with unimpressed mockery. His panther is watching them and Jin doesn't like the cant of her ears one bit.

"He's a Great White, I'm pretty sure," Kurosaki interjects, and elbows the hitman in the ribs. At the other end of the trailer a splash resounds, the woman diving smoothly after her daemon.

They miraculously all shut up for a minute or two as they watch the dorsal fin cut through the waves. The woman doesn't resurface for -- pretty long.

"All good, Harribel-san?"

"Satisfactory," she replies, bobbing with the waves. The fin resurfaces, and a great deal of sleek shark back. "Wait a bit longer for the trailer."

It's bobbing on the waves, the henchman Nakeem still holding onto the chain to keep it from drifting away and sinking. Dragging it back upslope is going to be a chore and a half.

Getting the shark back into the rig--

How did they even get it inside the first time around? Does Urahara-dono have a seawater pool with a winch in the backroom of his shop? It's ridiculous. His shop looks so small. Even if there's a basement it would need a freight elevator--

Not his business, he reminds himself.

"Shouldn't we at least beach it, ma'am?"

The shark surfaces, much closer to the shore than he assumed it could get. The woman shakes her head, expressionless. "It's not safe yet."

--Ah?

Further away -- so far, how long is her tether, isn't that uncomfortable -- a fish jumps out of the waves. A dorsal fin follows. The shark was between her and the shore not a minute ago.

"Not... safe?"

The henchman with the baboon laughs in amused sympathy. "So he doesn't react badly if you scratch yourself on the frame and bleed. He might bite down before he's thought it through."

Queen whimpers. "Oh my god."

"He's been cooped up a while, is all! He'll be more sociable in a minute."

The panther grumbles, batting at the lapping waves. "Yeah well he'd better hurry up, cause I want to swim too."

"Seriously? It's cold as hell! You're a tropical cat!"

"You're a whiner."

"Oh, fuck off--"

"Shut the fuck up," Matsuoka-san snaps without warning. "The fuck kind of job is this? A vacation?"

Kurosaki scowls back, but half-heartedly, more chiding than insulted. The hitman props an elbow on his shoulder and snorts, a derisive half-smile floating on his face. Both cats turn to stare, then the panther rolls her eyes and goes back to aimlessly slapping at the waves. The lioness starts scratching her ear with a back paw.

"We didn't have a trailer big enough," Kurosaki-san says, patient but tired. "And you guys did. Nobody said it was life or death, you don't need to be so tense."

Tora slips Jin a look like he's asking if they need to back him up. Jin shakes his head no. They have twice as many people if this goes bad and Kurosaki-san is still attempting to deescalate; if Matsuoka-san wants a pissing contest it's probably not going to go further than a beatdown, which at this point he is asking for.

"Tense? The fuck do you mean?"

-- Unless the hitman gets involved --

"I mean tense like tense," Kurosaki-san snaps back, finally getting annoyed, "but if you want to hear it like scared that's not my business," but the hitman has already let his elbow slide off his shoulder, is already taking a gliding step forward--

"Grimmjow."

He stops.

Thigh-deep in the waves, the woman is staring, still expressionless.

"What," he growls back, head inclined toward her but still facing Matsuoka-san.

"Don't cause Urahara Kisuke problems."

"You're telling me you think his boss didn't send him here so we fix his attitude problem for him?"

Jin winces inwardly. Matsuoka-san gets shocked stupid, bird rearing back. Apparently he didn't have the first clue that his attitude needed adjusting and the concept is stalling his brain -- or maybe it's the matter-of-fact way they speak that hammers it in, like of course that's true, but it's nothing to get excited over, because he's just that unimportant, just that harmless.

"That doesn't matter. He didn't ask out loud. Let Urahara make the call."

"... Boring." The hitman gives Matsuoka-san a dismissive look and turns away.

Yamatora and Queen are staring, mouths open. "W-wait -- ah, miss -- lady -- are... you his boss?"

She walks up onto the beach, hair dripping. Her wetsuit follows every curve of her body, and they all spell predator. Jin wishes he had muzzled his rookie.

"He's on loan to Kurosaki Ichigo."

... Jin reorganizes his understanding of Urahara-dono's outfit in his head.

Is Grimmjow-san an underboss? Loaned with his whole team? Are they all crazy hitmen like he is? The man with the pig daemon is expressionless like somebody dead and the one with the baboon normal, friendly, and standing between them and the car and Jin didn't notice.

"Thanks," Kurosaki-san says drolly. "How do I give him back?"

"You don't," the hitman leers back. "I gotta be wrapped all special in a... Edrad, what's the word?" he asks leadingly.

"Body bag?"

The man smirks wider, fangy, flicking his fingers at his man. "That's it."

"I can arrange that," Kurosaki-san grouches. "Harribel-san, can I drown him a little? Is it okay now? I don't want to give your daemon indigestion--"

"The fuck he could eat us!" the panther yowls, incensed. "Fucking goldfish--"

Sighing, the woman nods her agreement to the lioness, who sidesweeps her human's legs with her own flank, sending him careening into the hitman, who trips over his own daemon, and they all end up knee deep in the waves, spluttering and hollering insults. The henchman with the baboon laughs.

"Harribel-sama. Anything you need?"

"No. Don't get into the water yet, you'll seem more edible."

"Oh, I had no intention, ma'am."

She comes to a stop before Matsuoka. Her daemon is so far from her, swimming laps at the entry to the cove, barely visible; she stands alone and barely seems to notice.

If he treats her like somebody's woman he is going to die. It looks like he does have some good sense behind the bluster, though, because he grits his teeth and says nothing and nods back when she does.

"Thank you for the ride. I won't be needing your help on the trip back. Edrad and Nakeem will help you get the trailer back and after that you may go."

... What?

"Convey my thanks to your head," she adds with another nod to the three of them, and then she turns right back toward the sea.

"But... How is she going home?" Tora asks plaintively.

Jin can only shrug.

Maybe there's a boat waiting out there. Maybe there's an oxygen bottle and a mask hidden somewhere in the rocks, and they will go out at sea and disappear that way. Maybe that is how she gets around usually and the inland side-trip was unplanned, a trap even; and he doesn't know and will never know, and he sure as hell will not ask.

Unless they fit inside a carry-on aquatic daemons are a disability for everyday life. Where do you live with them as a human; a barge? A cruise ship? Venice?

Where do you live that still lets you become a boss?

And how have they never heard of her?

He is so, so glad it's a question for his oyabun and not for him. He feels like knowing would shorten his lifespan considerably.

[littlest-w01f]

Fiery Lover

Thesan x Vanserra sister!OC (Vesta Vanserra)

THESAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: The middle daughter of Autumn forms an infatuation with the High Lord of Dawn

Cw: Drinking, smoking, a little smutty in the beginning, Eris cockblocking

The music was loud, matching Vesta's heartbeat as she danced on the table of the bar, her hips moving with the rhythm of the music, the thigh-length red dress she was wearing moved with her hips, a deep plunge neckline that left nothing to imagine, her deep red hair kept short and a red headpiece sitting snug on her head and a red lip to match.

A bottle of scotch in one hand, a cigarette holder in the other, drinking directly from the narrow nozzle of it, smoking the drugs rolled up in a pipe, she sang the lyrics loudly, a bunch of males and females dancing on the floor near her, a few females on the table with her.

Vesta dropped down and pulled a male in closer by his clothing, he was a lesser Fae, with scaley dragon-like skin peeping from the inside of his clothes, his eyes cat-like. She raised the bottle of scotch over his mouth and poured it down with a smirk, a smile on his face as his forked tongue slid out of his lips, letting the alcoholic liquid go down his throat, she'd already decided she was going home with him, or perhaps take him against one of the walls of the tavern they were in.

Both of them had been eyeing each other all night, she didn't know his name, but she was sure he knew hers, she was royalty. The only daughter of the Vanserra family, well-known in every tavern of her Court, the bartenders and workers knew her well, knowing she came in a spend a load of her money, something Beron, her father despised, which made Vesta party harder.

She got down from the table, right in front of the male, who leaned down to kiss her, she pressed her lips against his back, alcohol pumping in her veins, her feet slightly aching from dropping down, she pulled the male in, arms wrapped around his shoulders, he pushed her back against the bar table she had been dancing on, learning a chuckle out of her. "Hello, Princess," He growled in the kiss.

She gasped as he bit her lower lip, piercing her with his fangs, and licking her blood clean. "Declicious," He growled, his lust in both their eyes.

"Yeah...?" She smiled, pulling him another kiss, her healing kicking in, she felt up his chest, feeling the scales that his clothes hid, "Maybe you'd like to taste more." She whispered pulling away from the kiss, licking over his lips.

When he groped her ass, his clawed hands digging in under her dress a pale hand was over the male's shoulders, pulling him off her, Vesta glared at the person the hand belonged to, Eris.

"Let go of my sister if you don't want me to burn part of you that you'd rather keep." The Heir of Autumn growled.

The male was panicked at his threat, moving to get his hand off him, as Vesta spoke, "He won't, it's alright," She reassured the male, she mouthed sorry to him as Eris held his hand out to her.

Vesta got dragged out by Eris, "Eris..." She rolled her eyes, "I'm not a child, I can handle myself."

"Yet you still let me drag you out." Eris pointed out at his younger sister stumbling slightly, letting her hand go, "Besides, remember father had got a letter by Rhysand for a High Lord meeting..."

"Is it right now...?" Vesta cut him off, jumping lightly to take her heels off and then walk bare feet, rolling her eyes and looking back at the tavern, "If not, can I go back and get laid?"

Eris sighed, taking Vesta's heels from her hands, "Father wants you home, and as much as I love watching him lose his shit, I don't think you should anger him too much, little fox. We leave in the morning, we need to pack your bags."

The cool night air hitting Vesta like a refreshing slap in the face. The signs of the surrounding bars and restaurants cast a colourful glow over the deserted street. Vesta stumbled slightly, she tried to keep up with Eris' long strides.

Even drunk and high Vesta caught the change in his tone, "What do you mean, Eris?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Eris replied, his voice low and husky from the smoke-filled atmosphere inside. "Father can be quite… persuasive when he wants something. And lately, he's been acting strange. Almost… desperate."

Vesta raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Desperate? What do you mean?"

Eris glanced around nervously before leaning in close to Vesta. "I've seen him arguing with some of his associates, making deals that seem shady even for him."

"This meeting has something to do with Hybern, I think they're more to it." Eris commented, keeping his insights of watching her stumble around, biting the insides of his cheeks to not say a thing or smile.

Vesta nodded gently, adjusting her headpiece correctly on her head, "I'm coming back here after the meeting, Er..."

The Dawn Court was beautiful, bright and glowing, Vesta walked beside Eris, behind her father and mother, she wore a dress his father least hated, the gorgeous, vibrant red silk of her dress catching the light and casting mesmerizing patterns across the room. The bodice hugs her curves snugly, accentuating her figure. At the same time, the halter neckline framed her face perfectly, drawing attention to her siren eyes that shone like molten lava under the twinkling chandelier above.

The full skirts billow out dramatically, creating an ethereal ballet of colour as she moved. Each movement sent ripples through the layers of fabric, revealing glimpses of the intricate beadwork adorning the underskirt. Every stitch and bead has been meticulously placed, both Vesta and her mother wore intricate gowns, a testament to her father's wealth.

The High Lord of Autumn filed through the archway, his children in rank behind him. Vesta looked around the round table, looking for her brother, the one missing, managing to hide her frown when she didn't find Lucien.

Her brothers sneered at the table, the Peregryns ruffled their feathers, almost getting ready to attack, and even the Summer royals sneered back at her brothers. Eris murmured, "Enough," and all the younger brothers fell into line. Pulling Vesta with him, her hand on his elbow.

"It’s no surprise that you’re tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I suppose it runs in the family." Rhysand greeted Beron, and Vesta cracked a smile at the dig at her father, even though she hid it well.

She took a seat beside Eris, and Thesan began. "Rhysand, you have called this meeting. Pushed us together sooner than we intended. Now would be the time to explain what is so urgent."

Vesta sighed, looking over at Thesan, his strict posture was all for show, his skin kissed by the early morning sun itself, and her eyes raked over his features. His appearance was as polished as ever, every detail carefully tended to. She couldn't help but admire him, even though she knew better than to indulge in such thoughts.

Her concentration on Thesan's lovely features was broken as a crack of Spring storm swirled in the room, Tamlin stood in the chambers, winnowing in directly, a wolfish grin on his features.

"We were not expecting you, Tamlin." Thesan spoke after a long beat of silence, gestured with a slender hand toward his attendant who cringed when his lord did. "Fetch the High Lord a chair."

Beron smirked, looking at the High Lord of Spring, "I will admit, Tamlin, that I am surprised to see you here. Rumor claims your allegiance now lies elsewhere."

Vesta masked the cringe as she felt pity for Caspar, her elder brother as the attendant set a chair down for Tamlin between him and a Day court member, neither looked too thrilled about it.

"Let’s get on with it, then." Helion spoke to resume the meeting.

But then started the lovers spat and bickering as Tamlin couldn't seem to help himself, "If you hadn’t stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back." Tamlin smiled almost hauntingly.

"The sun was shining when I left you." Feyre spoke and Vesta couldn't help her snort, not even when Tamlin dismissed Feyre completely and turned to glare at Vesta, his glare blocked by each of her brothers who sat up straight.

"Blah blah blah..." Vesta cut off another of Tamlin's ramblings, rolling her eyes, the attention now on her, "Are you here to talk business or not, Tamlin? There is a war coming... You take your petty lovers quarel elsewhere." Her father would've reprimanded her for talking to a male like that, a High Lord no less, but she couldn't help her tongue, and not that she cared.

To say this meeting would go smoothly was an understatement, but at least she earned a smile from the High Lord of Dawn, the male sitting close to him covering his face with his feathered wings.

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