#and she would prefer to sire her own childe

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

A Type Of Love

Minors Do Not Interact

Feyd x reader

Just a little idea of what Feyd would be like during an arranged marriage and once his wife got pregnant.

Warnings: cannibalism, canon typical violence, typical Harkonnen culture, Feyd is his own warning

His mother once told him, at five years old as he sat in her lap, watching the sun set over the horison, "Don't love anyone but your children. Anyone you love will be used against you, limit you, and make you lesser."

Feyd had looked at his mother, curious. "Well, shouldn't I not love my children then?"

His mother chuckled, kissing the top of his head. "I'm afraid that's not an option for people like us, son. I'm afraid you will have no choice whether or not you love your child."

Feyd didn't realize at the time that the reason his mother took great pains to raise him to be so fundamentally different from other Harkonnens was to ensure that when he sired the chosen one, he wouldn't smother him in his crib. The deep sense of honor his uncle couldn't break him of, even as he was forced to kill his mother, was all a tactic by centuries of Bene Gesserit plotting to ensure their messiah figure was safe.

Feyd took his mother's lessons to heart, even when his memories of her tore at what little heart he had left. When he was assigned a wife by his uncle, he made sure he didn't get attached to her. He did his required duty, visiting her twice a week in her quarters until she fell pregnant. Once she informed him she was with child, he stopped visiting her. He spent his free time with his concubines, the only women he let himself be fond of. Even then, the fondness was that one would have for a pet, not a lover. They were content with that arrangement, as he did spoil them beyond reasonable limits.

His wife seemed to be content with him ignoring her. Yet even without his help, she managed to weasel her way into his uncle's council. She had somehow made an ally of Rabban, giving him advice on everything from women, to dealing with Fremen.

He tolerated it… until she started showing. Once her stomach swelled with his child, he could stand it no longer. He forbid her from speaking to Rabban. He basically confined her to her quarters, and when she complained about feeling imprisoned, he took her hand and lovingly walked her down to the slave pits. He held her still, forcing her to look upon the miserable wretches in the cells. "Still feel imprisoned, my wife? Or have you found a new fondness for your grand room?"

She stiffly nodded, tears silently flowing down her face. He feasted on them, lapping at her face until the tears stopped flowing. She clung to his arm the whole walk back to her rooms, and something foreign and wholly unwelcome began to take root in his wretched heart. Fondness.

As her stomach grew, so to did his new emotions. He found himself unable to stay away from her, spending his nights in her room more often than not. He insisted she dine with him for every meal, and began pressuring her to try a new type of meat. He teased her with the idea of eating the flesh of his kills, assuring her that any heir of his would only grow stronger from it.

She looked sick anytime he brought it up, but to her credit didn't flinch when he snapped one day, killing a slave in front of her and slicing his gut open. "Pick your preference, my wife. Liver? Lung? A chunk of thigh?"

His wife met his gaze, her voice firm and strong when she answered. "The heart."

He carved it out himself, handing it off to a trembling servant who brought it back some time later, perfectly roasted and seasoned.

He stared, his eyes fixed to her face as she calmly cut into the flesh he had provided for her, and delicately raised her fork to her lips. The thin cut of meat passed over her lips and her eyes fluttered shut as she tasted it. She took a liking to it, if her fast eating was anything to go by. Soon her plate was clean, and Feyd felt nearly feral with desire as she delicately dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

Her eyes were warm and soft with adoration as she looked at his cold blue eyes. "Thank you, my husband."

The deeply rooted fondness he had been unable to rip out began blossoming into something far more dangerous. May the stars comfort his mother's weary soul, because it seemed he wouldn't be able to obey her lessons.

[bats-and-birds-24]

Daughter of a Dark Angel:

Disappointment.

It was the first thing he felt when he first held his daughter.

Primarch Guilliman and Lion' El Johnson had just recently agreed to allow the astartes to reproduce, so that it would be easier to get neophytes who were compatible with their Primarch's geneseed.

Even if they weren't compatible, or were girls, they would have an iron will of an astartes, and would bolster the Imperium's numbers against Chaos.

Yet, most marines still preferred to have a strong son, one who will one day join their ranks as a battle brother. So when his assigned partner passed away, delivering only a tiny, premature girl, his hopes for an heir were dashed.

He could not simply be assigned another concubine right after one had just died, that would be callous. As dictated by the Codex Astartes. Not that he believed in any of it, he held no love for his now deceased partner. He only wanted a son.

He sighed. With her dead, the burden of raising the infant fell on him. As though he didn't have enough to worry about. This was also deemed necessary by the Codex, to encourage a 'parental bond'. He tutted in annoyance, he was an astartes, he was beyond such baseline emotions.

At first, he only cared for her out of duty, but as she grew older, he began to see her potential. Her mind was quick, even for a child sired by a space marine. She grasped concepts that would have been beyond most children her age.

If only she had been born male, he lamented.

One day his little daughter came up to him when he was on break and asked him what her job in the Imperium would be. He managed to give her a vague answer which seemed to satisfy her for the time being.

However, the question still lingered in his mind. What would she do, now that she was here? She had a quick mind, and once her body's development catches up to that of a normal child, maybe she could join the Sisters of Battle.

He mind balked at the thought, his daughter ending up as one of those shrill harpies worshipping a man who never wanted to be a god revulsed him. She deserved better than that.

He then thought of the mechanicus. This too, disgusted him. They too worshipped a god, their omnissiah. And the thought of having to witness his little girl cutting of pieces of her own flesh, only to replace them with sterile metal made him want to vomit.

Any other options such as being a serf, or a remembrancer were so laughably beneath her station as a child of an astartes that he didn't even bother thinking about them.

He grumbled in dissatisfaction as he glanced over at the little cot his daughter slept in.

There were no good roles for women in this Imperium, the best life he could provide for a woman of her standing was marrying her off to a wealthy planetary governer, or beneath that, a fellow astartes. If she proved her mettle in political affairs, she could then join the ranks of the Inquisitors.

Satisfied in his decision for her future he drifted off to sleep.

The next few years were filled with stacks of books he had borrowed from the ship's library and papers that he personally corrected as he attended to his daughter's education.

As she became a young woman, almost in the blink of an eye, (he chided himself, normal baselines aged faster than enhanced transhumans, he cannot forget that) the proposals started to roll in.

Most were from fellow battle brothers looking for a concubine. They were Dark Angels, so they didn't think to ask the girl herself, asking her father would be good enough.

He went through, and declined them at an astonishing speed. Most were too old for his little girl, and the younger ones were too brash. The last thing he wanted was for his daughter to be left a widow as her reckless husband ran straight to his death.

Until that message came.

A new planetary governer had been selected, and after going through his child's credentials, they had decided that she would make the perfect wife and First Lady of the planet.

It was a great honor that she had been selected.

That was what he told himself as he met the man who was to become his son in law. He was childish, naive, and handsy towards her. He disliked him immediately. But he grit his teeth as he repeated the mantra in his head; 'it is a great honor'.

He stoically saw her off to her planet. He remembered as she continued to wave at him even after their ship had left the ground.

He remembered when he only returned to her side decades later, him having only gained a few scars, while his child looked as though she was on death's doorstep.

This was why he didn't want a daughter, he wouldn't be able to stay by her side, he would lose her too soon. He despaired at the short amount of time he still had left with her.

The two talked of her life, how the bastard he had married her off to, was an irresponsible and cruel leader. Going so far as to try to get rid of her, so that he could replace her with his mistress.

By the time the mess had been dealt with, she had lost three of her fingers on her right hand, only the thumb and pinky finger still being intact.

He raged at the injustice, if only he could've gotten his hands on that imbecile, he would have been nothing more than a fine red mist by the time he finished.

Nevertheless, she had proved her mettle, and became the planetary governor in his stead.

This led to a huge quality of life improvement for the citizens.

Resources that had originally been extracted by a constantly abused, destitute workforce were replaced by a respectable, dutiful, healthy population renowned for their inventions and craftsmanship.

She had built schools and hospitals, and homes and libraries. She had taken a backwater people and turned them into proud, productive members of the Imperium.

By the end of her story, she had only one request to make of him;

"Hold my hand while I sleep, just for tonight Da'."

She made him pinky promise, as though she were a child again. Her wrinkled hand with three stubs, contrasting his own strong, muscled one.

She passed away that night.

When he returned to his quarters the next day, the mask cracked. He wept in despair at the loss of his Daughter.

Why didn't he love her more? Why did he have to marry her away to that scum? Why was he ever disappointed in having such a brilliant woman as his child?

When he came back to attend her funeral, he saw that the entire planet was in mourning. She had changed the lives of everyone around her.

He listened to the stories of baselines as they regaled him with tales of her selflessness and valor.

By the end of the event, he had no more tears to shed, his anger at himself and at the injustices of her life had dissipated. There was only one emotion left.

Pride.

---------------------------------------------------

So this whole story was written because I couldn't get the thought of a Dark Angel having to come to terms with having a Daughter instead of a son in the astartes can take concubines au we had going on a while back.

@kit-williams @moodymisty @mothiir @the-raven-lady @bispecsual

[shalomniscient]

oml YOURE SO QUICK W THESE REQ HOLY MOLY. can i jst say that the way u write is so edible i eat it up every time

but enough of how much i admire ur work and efficiency

and i’ve seen ur deren post and IT WAS SO GOOD BRO LIKE. it’s exactly how i would have imagined her during sex omg YOU WROTE HER SO WELL!

anyway i’ve been thinking of what it would be like with ex! deren who has a kid with you. like how would the parenting dynamics work

maybe make up sex in the end. but you both say it’s for the kid (it isn’t entirely true tho…)

AAAAAAAAAAA im so glad the deren piece felt in character !! the whole time i was writing her i was like fuck it we ball HSKDGHSJHDGSJ but im happy u enjoyed !!

back to you || deren x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. fingering, creampie

notes. ik this isnt as like. angsty as u requested for anon 😔😔😔 i fear i was not possessed by the angst demon this time

You could see the end right from the start.

Like, come on. Dating a famous movie director, one with absolutely rabid fans while you were just a regular ol’ person? You knew at some point they’d get in between you and Deren. One of you would crack first under the pressure of being watched for what seemed to be every moment of your waking life, trailed by flashing cameras and nosy excuses for ‘journalists’.

In the end, it was you.

It’s a cold night when you tell Deren you can’t do it anymore. Between the insanity that was the hate mail you recieved for simply having the audacity to be Deren’s partner to the constant surveillance whenever you step out of your home—or hell, whenever you don’t even close the fucking curtains properly—you just can’t take it any longer. Deren was just quiet that night, as if she too, had seen this coming. All she did was hold you, and the next morning, it was over.

You do your best to vanish after that. Fly under the radar for a few months, up until the heat and the scandal of the legendary director’s separation dies down. Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long since Deren’s latest movie is released at this time too, and the public conversation shifts from ‘what happened to director Deren’s partner?’ to ‘is this new movie going to win the next DisCars?’

And you’re immensely grateful for it, since it’s at this same time that you also find out you’re pregnant.

The baby is, unostensibly, Deren’s. You haven’t had a partner since her—you haven’t dared, for fear someone might recognise you—so you’re very sure Deren’s the sire. Yet despite your confidencd, you don’t breathe a word of it to her. You block her on all social medias and even go as far as to changing your phone. Some may call you extreme, but just the thought of your child having to endure such public scrutiny from the moment of their birth and hell, even before, sickens and frightens you.

No, you’ll do this on your own.

So you do. You have your baby—a little boy, with the same eyes and hair as his sire—on your own in the hospital, and you raise him on your own in your little apartment in Eastside. You make just enough for the both of you to live comfortably, and while it’s not a glamorous life, one that Deren could’ve afforded you with her money and influence, it’s a quiet, peaceful one—and you much prefer it, even if it means there will forever be a small piece of you that feels incomplete without her.

Your son is five when Deren’s latest grotesque rom-com is released, and when she disappears from the public eye. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a nervous knot in your stomach from the weirdness of it all. You’d watched the movie, and while it was good there was something distinctly… not Deren about it. You think about reaching out, just to make sure if she alright, but you see your son playing with his toys on the living room carpet, blisfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the cinematic world, and you set the phone right back down.

(You try not to think of her every time you look into your son’s eyes.

Most of the time, you don’t succeed.)

For the next year or so, you live your life as normal. You wake up, make breakfast, wake your son up, eat breakfast, send him to school, then go to work. The cycle repeats over and over, and you’ve always liked rhythms. Life, on the other hand, has very different plans, and loves throwing wrenches into well-oiled machines. Or in your case, sending your ex right to your front door after you haven’t spoken a word to her in six years.

“Hey,” she says, and you almost close the door on her right then and there. “Can I come in?”

“What— what are you doing here, Deren? How did you even find me?” you splutter out in an agitated whisper, your eyes flicking behind her, anxiously hoping none of the neighbors saw her. Deren shrugs and gives you a lazy smile.

“I made some new friends, and let’s just say that they… have their ways,” she replies enigmatically, so inherently Deren in a way you’ve always missed deep down that your heart aches in your chest. You open your mouth to retort, when you hear one of the neighbor’s doors opening, and you quickly reach out to grab Deren’s wrist and pull her inside. She lets you tug at her without much complaint, and immediately starts looking around your apartment once she’s inside. “Nice place.”

“Thanks,” you answer stiffly, sighing as you lock the door. “But you didn’t answer the question.”

“I’m here to see you,” Deren shrugs, hands in her pockets. She looks away, as if still admiring your interior design choices, but you know her well enough to know she’s avoiding your eyes. “And our kid.”

You inhale sharply at that. “How did you…?”

“Like I said,” Deren hums with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My new friends have their ways.”

You bite your lip as you think of what to do. Part of you wants to push her right back out the door, but the bigger part of you urged you to let her stay.

(Selfishly, you’ve missed her too. You haven’t let go of her wrist, and she hasn’t pulled away either.)

“He’s in the living room,” you say quietly, and when Deren turns back to look at you, there is a glimmer of something like hope and relief in her eyes. Her fingers gently reach out to brush your own, testing the waters, and you hear her exhale softly when you intertwine them. God, it’s fucking sickening how well she fits back into your hands, as if she never left.

You lead her to the living room, where your son sits on the floor, drawing into his sketchbook on the coffee table. When he looks up and sees Deren, her hand squeezes yours like she’s trying to ground herself in your presence.

“He looks like me,” she whispers out, and you nod. She lets go of your hand then slowly makes her way over to the little boy, crouching to get on his level. “Hey, kid. What’s your name?”

You watch as Deren interacts with your son, and pretend you don’t notice the way your heart races. He’s remarkably comfortable with Deren despite just meeting her, and it makes your chest ache. Within minutes she has him telling her about all his favourite things, especially his current obsession with dinosaurs that seemingly all six year old boys go through. You make drinks for them both—tea for Deren and juice for your son—and just let them talk, busying yourself in the kitchen.

About an hour later, Deren walks up to you from behind, the little boy held gently in her arms. He’s fast asleep, cheek resting on Deren’s shoulder and you reach out to brush some hair away from his face. “His bedroom is down the hall,” you say, and Deren nods, quietly padding to the boy’s room to put him to bed.

When she returns, she finds you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and looking away from her. The atmosphere is thick and heavy with things both of you want to say to each other, and Deren finds the courage to go first.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks, her voice soft, but not accusatory. You think that Deren knows, deep down, exactly why, but she wants to hear it from you first.

"I didn't want that life for him," you answer, and Deren just nods. She's been a director long enough to see with her own eyes what fame in a family does to a child. To grow up with the eye of the world on you is a stifling, choking thing. Now, it was your turn to ask.

"Why are you here, Deren? Really?"

Deren takes a step towards you, and you can smell her cologne at this distance—as familiar as ever. "I... want to be here. With you. And our son."

"You can't be serious," the words slip from your lips before you can stop them. "What about your—"

"Fuck it," Deren says, and you don't think you've ever seen her this serious. It makes your breath hitch, and whatever else you were going to say lodge in your throat. "I mean it. I'm not going to be going back to film-making for a while, and I want to be a part of your life again. A part of his."

She takes another step closer, hesitantly, as if she's scared you might flee. But you don't, and now she's just centimeters away from you. Her large hand rises ever so slowly to caress your cheek as she leans her forehead against yours.

"Please," she whispers, lips brushing yours. "Give me a chance, [name]."

And despite it all, despite the six years of saying you'd never go back, you're the one to close that last remaining distance and kiss her. She tastes the same as you remember, and her other hand holds your waist to pull you impossibly closer. Your own arms loop around her neck, flinging that silly bucket hat off to tangle your fingers in her grey hair. Deren manages a small laugh against your lips before she breaks away, and stars trailing more kisses down your neck.

As much as you remember her, she remembers you. Her lips find every one of the sensitive spots on your neck—at your pulse point below your jaw, the front of your throat and the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, near your collarbones. You shudder against the countertop and bite your lip to stifle any sounds. You don't want to wake you son up, after all.

So instead, you gasp, "bedroom", and Deren instantly understands. Firm hands find your ass, squeezing appreciatively, before she lifts you up into her arms. The director had always been deceptively strong, and you wrap your legs around her defined waist. It's your turn now to pepper her neck with kisses, and Deren groans as she makes her way to your bedroom, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. Between your legs, you can feel her bulge pressing against your front and you shiver.

Deren manages to carry you all the way to your bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her before gently setting you down on the bed. The lights are off, but even in the dark you can still see the way Deren's eyes shine as they look at you—like she still loves you. Her fingers find the waistband of your pants, and she looks at you in question, a wordless can I? She smiles when you nod, and tugs your pants and panties down in one go, and exhales a pleased sigh when she notices the string of slick connecting your pretty pussy to the fabric.

"Always so pretty, baby," she murmurs, slotting herself between your legs and dragging a finger through your folds. You whimper at the sensation, hips twitching. Her hands move to caress your hips and waist, thumbs brushing over the soft flesh and the stretch marks there. "So fucking pretty."

"Deren," you gasp, feeling almost mindless with need. "Please."

"I know, baby, I know," she coos, leaning down to kiss you by bracing her weight on one elbow, while her other arm takes position between your thighs. "'m gonna take care of you now, m'kay?"

You dig your fingers into her back when she sinks one of hers into you, the sheer amount of slick you've produced making the slide easy. You tremble beneath her and Deren kisses you between your breathy moans, slowly starting to piston her finger in and out of your cunt while her thumb works your clit. You squirm and clench around her, and Deren, bless her or damn her, knows exactly what to do, slipping another finger into you all the way to the knuckle in one go.

She swallows the cry you let out, tongue tracing the seam of your lips. She fingerfucks you with frankly unfair skill, all the while pressing burning kisses to your lips, jaw and neck. Your peak creeps up on your embarrassingly fast, and with one last perfect curl of her fingers you cum all over her hand. Your fingers claw down Deren's back and she grunts at the sensation, slowing down her fingers until she finally draws them out of your fluttering cunt. Your slick makes her fingers shine in the low light, and Deren takes her time to admire the way it travels down her knuckles and onto her forearm.

She's so enraptured that she doesn't notice your hand sneaking down her body until it cups her bulge, and she jerks, looking down at you in surprise. "We don't have to—" she says, but you cut her off by running your hand up and down her clothed length, causing her to shut her eyes and grit her teeth.

"Shut up and fuck me," you say hoarsely, and looking at you now, hair splayed across the bed like a halo, your neck covered in hickeys, flushed from your neck to your face and with your legs wide open and your inner thighs glossy with cum, how could Deren ever deny you?

She's more frantic now, fucking you with her cock with more urgency than when she used her fingers. She groans with every thrust into your tight, perfect cunt—God, she's missed you so fucking much. She mutters into your ear with each drive of her hips, of how no one else ever came close to comparing to you, how no one else had a pussy just made for her like yours and it makes you clench even tighter around her. She gasps your name like a prayer as she feels her orgasm approach, and moves to pull out, but you keep your legs locked around her waist.

"On the pill," you gasp out, biting your lip. "Inside, please, need it inside—"

"Fuck, baby," Deren swears, burying her face in your neck, fucking into you even faster. "It's all yours, baby, 'm gonna give it all to you, yeah?"

You would have thought it funny, if you had any semblance of higher thought left—this was exactly how your son came about. But something about Deren always makes you lose your fucking mind, and you only nod frantically, begging for her.

With one final drive of her hips, Deren buries herself as deep as she can go and spills into you. The sensation of being filled and warmed from the inside shoves you over your own peak, and you sink your teeth into Deren's shoulder as you body locks up with pleasure. Her hips stutter as she cums, spilling rope after rope of thick release into your eager, welcoming cunt that's squeezing along her length like it's trying to milk her dry.

When she finally stops, she flops onto you, flushed and panting. You're no better beneath her, thighs still trembling, though the feel of being so full of her cock and her cum makes a heady rush of endorphins flood your brain.

"I missed you," Deren confesses against your skin after a while. She hasn't pulled out, and you haven't asked her to pull out. Her finger draws little circles around your waist.

"I know," you whisper in response, pressing a kiss against her hair. "I missed you too."

You don't share any more words after that. It's too early for those words, been too long since either of you spoke it to each other, but there's a flicker of hope in your chest that one day, you'll both make it back to that point—and hopefully, this time, you'll make it stay.

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

17. 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽

From that moment on, (Y/n) clung to the new arrivant. While Dorian was relieved to know his partner had gotten over his initial dislike for the girl, he wondered what had been the catalyst for this change. The other day, the child had another nightmare. In the middle of the day, she had entered their room and made a beeline for Killian's coffin. The dark haired vampire had comforted her, while Dorian had smiled at the sight fondly. He preferred not to dwell too much on the cause of this positive outcome ; it was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, as they said. Everything was good; everyone was in their place. It was almost perfect.

The girl would turn twelve in two weeks and the next blood moon would be a week after that. He knew Killian probably still planned to leave, but Dorian knew the other vampire well. His dear companion was so predictable. His compassion would make him stay. For their girl. He wouldn’t leave her. The blond just had to find a way to make him stay until the girl's turning.

He gazed out one of the study's windows and observed the silhouette riding on a horse outside in the night. He smiled, resting his chin on his hand as he followed Killian's path with his eyes. The dark haired vampire had always been one for the outdoors, even as a human. He had fascinated Dorian, and still did to this day. He could still vividly remember their first meeting, a memory that would never leave him.

· • —– ٠ ⏳ ٠ —– • ·

Humans, Dorian found, were quite interesting beings; they had this way of living — always in motion — that baffled him. Despite the specter of impermanence hanging over them, humans embraced life with a tenacity that Dorian found intriguing. They indulged in pleasures, sought out joys, and painted their existence with vibrant hues of experiences. It was a paradox that resonated with him on a profound level — the knowledge of an eventual end, yet an unwavering commitment to savoring every fleeting moment. It made him wonder if he had acted the same way once. 

There was a time, one or two forevers ago, when he too had been part of this vibrant dance of life. He had been human, a mere mortal swept up in the currents of time. He didn't remember much of his time as a human; his turning had erased most of his memories. Disappeared in an ember, a burned tableau turned to ashes dissolving in the wind of eternal change, leaving behind a void where his mortal past once thrived. He had started anew as a blank canvas; his own sire abandoning him carelessly only days following his turning.

"Tell me more about yourself, Monsieur de Beauvoir," a voice pierced through his contemplations, and he turned to regard the lady who had initiated the inquiry. Despite his charming smile, her name had already slipped through the crevices of his recollection.

"I am sure there are more interesting discussions than listening to the stories of a man such as myself, milady," he responded in a melodious voice.

The human giggled, as if that had been the funniest joke she had heard. "You are too humble, Duke de Beauvoir," she gushed. "What brought a Frenchman such as yourself to England ?" The lady asked, stepping closer.

 "I merely wished for a change of scenery," he replied vaguely, his tone carrying an air of mystery that only fueled the lady's curiosity.

The lady's words, laced with a hint of flirtation and delivered in a sultry voice, hung in the air like a delicate perfume, enveloping the space between them. "A great reason to make new acquaintances," she insinuated, her gaze locked with Dorian's, her proximity closing the gap between them.

In response, Dorian allowed a playful glint to flicker in his eyes, acknowledging the unspoken invitation. He was always willing to be entertained. He considered the possibility of continuing their exchange in a quieter corner of the palace, away from the prying eyes and curious gazes of the other attendants.

"A great way indeed," added a new person who inserted himself into the conversation, "Charlotte, why don't you introduce me to this fine gentleman ?" 

Dorian, accustomed to the art of captivating an audience, turned around with practiced grace, ready to unleash his signature charming smile. The voice that had interrupted their conversation had piqued his interest, and he welcomed the attention with a subtle anticipation. Among vampires, pride was a prevailing trait, and Dorian, in particular, relished the spotlight. The knowledge that others hung on his every word, that he could control the narrative and reveal only what he wished, provided him with an exhilarating rush.

As he prepared to unveil his charismatic persona, Dorian's poised demeanor faltered ever so slightly at the sight before him. Long wavy auburn hair lazily gracing his shoulders; sharp yet beautiful features and striking hazel eyes. Truly, a sight to behold. True beauty was something hard to come across, yet here it presented itself to him, in such unforeseen circumstances. The mortal put an arm protectively around the lady’s shoulders and Dorian narrowed his eyes slightly, unsure of their bond.

"Brother," Charlotte greeted with warmth, introducing the mysterious man at her side. "This is Duke Dorian de Beauvoir."

Dorian inclined his head with a polite acknowledgment, his charming smile remaining intact. "Bonsoir, it is a pleasure to meet you," he trailed off, trying to catch the name of the stranger.

"Killian," he supplied. "Killian Ambrose-Hart."

"Ambrose," he mused inwardly. An ancient name, steeped in history, meaning Immortal. Everlasting. The serendipity of the encounter was not lost on Dorian. His lips curled up. This must have been fated. Dorian's eyes, still retaining their playful gleam, lingered on Killian for a moment longer. 

"Why don't you join us," the blond suggested, gesturing at an empty seat at their table.

"Brother, sir de Beauvoir is from France," Charlotte informed him. "He was about to tell me more about himself."

"Nothing quite interesting, I'm afraid," he responded a bit dismissively, turning his attention back on the brother who had sat down reluctantly. "London is grand and lively, nothing like what I am used to from France. I would need someone to show me around to get accustomed to the new scenery."

When the other didn't seem to get the hint, the conversation continued, the sister trying to get Dorian's attention while he had been ensnared by the unsuspecting brother. The siblings eventually departed and the blond was left bitter.

Now that Dorian knew he existed, no other man would suffice. The heart wanted what it wanted, and his ? Well, his wanted this elusive human.

· • —– ٠ ⌛️ ٠ —– • ·

"Are you almost done ?" (Y/n)'s modulated voice brought him back to reality.

His eyes landed on her, adorning a magnificent rose red dress that complimented her complexion. She posed on a black chair, elegant and youthful. He looked back at his tableau.

His first and last human portrait of her. Her skin still glowed with colorful warm hues, her eyes lacked any hint of red and her teeth were dull compared to that of vampires. He rarely captured life, but he was willing to make an exception for his child. Soon she would be different. For the better, but nonetheless different.

He wondered how she would react to her turning. He would ensure it would be as painless as he possibly could. This would certainly be a night to remember, and perhaps even the first she would remember. Dorian wondered if like him, she would be among the few who lost their memory of their human life following their turning. He hoped she would. Starting anew with her would be the greatest gift that could be given to him. He could educate and mold her properly; no pesky memories of her parents and her peasant life. She would only know him and Killian.

He turned back towards her. "Not yet, doll," he answered and chuckled as she sighed. "Be patient— and smile."

"Do you often paint ?" She asked, perhaps trying to make the time pass faster.

"For as long as I can remember," he answered. A talent he must had retained from his human life, he supposed. "All paintings on display on this floor were made by me."

"Really ?" She turned around, pointing at one portrait of him and Killian in the room. "Even this one ?"

"Indeed," he confirmed with a smile, then added: "Stop moving, doll."

"Isn't it easier to bring in a painter to paint you and him together ?" (Y/n) asked, settling back into place.

"We tried," he acknowledged, "but we found mine always turned out better."

Painters had this ability of picking up small details most didn't see. Teeth too white, fangs too sharp, skin taking a deathly color. They saw too much. They showed too much. They accentuated it all too much, peeling away the carefully crafted façade created by them. Presenting what wasn’t meant to be shown ; what they didn’t want to be shown.

"They really are pretty," she complimented.

"Thank you," he smiled. "We are almost done."

[quitealotofsodapop]

A tiger monk au post of yours brought up the idea of an ‘appointment’ between azure and Tripitaka possibly leading to a fourth cub

If that were to happen, what would be the pilgrims, Macaque’s, Yellow Tusk’s, and Peng’s reactions to that news?

Ref.

The whole squad be dunking on these silly cats. Macaque was the first to know obviously.

Macaque, can barely breathe: "AAAAHHHAHAHAHAHA!!!" XD Peng: (*similar laughing but as a peacock screech!!*) XD Yellow Tusk: "Oh ho ho ho! You two were careless, weren't you? Congratulations all the same!" Tripitaka, thoroughly mortified: "But I did not drink the water from the Mother-Child River! How could this be?!" Wukong, sucks in a disappointed sigh: "Master... demons do not abide by human physical limitations. If you and Azure... ugh! Unionized - then a cub is a risk no matter your preferred sex." Tripitaka, embarrassed: "OH." Zhu Bajie, snickering: "Even *I* know that, master!" Sha Wujing, sincere: "If you wish to terminate the pregnancy, we support your decision 100%." Tripitaka: "HEY WAIT!" (*Tripitaka grabs Azure by the colllar and pulls him down to face level*) Tripitaka: "Did you know about the risk!?" Azure, a little scared: "I honestly did not know. I must have healed from whatever method Manjushri used to geld me." Ao Lie, idea: "Oh! That could be it!" Wukong: "Huh? What could be it?" Ao Lie: "Didn't all those lady demons try seducing Master because his body has super-healing life energy? Maybe when he and Azure did special cuddles, it healed him too!" (*the whole room falls silent... before Macaque, Peng, Zhu Bajie, and even Sha Wujing fall into bellowing laughter at the revelation. Tripitaka falls to the floor to pray. Azure covers face in embarrassment but purrs happily. Wukong falls to his knees groaning with irony. Yellow Tusk is chuckling away, trying to spare his friends' feelings. Ao Lie stands there smiling, blissfully unbothered by the situation.*) Macaque, wiping away tear of laughter: "Who would have thought that the Buddha's pet would have it in him?" Tripitaka, in prayer: "Please gracious Buddha, I apologise for unknowingly sacrificing part of my divine yang to heal my companion's neutering... and falling with child in the process." Peng: "I don't think my nephew minds if he didn't care to warn you!"

Tripitaka, already having experienced the triplets, and knowing how his shapeshifting demon biology helps out in the proccess, ultimately decides to keep the surprise pregnancy.

Tripitaka: "It isn't their fault I was careless. This is my penance for breaking my vow of Chastity."

Macaque, snorts: "Gonna need to step up your kitten game if you want to redeem those chastity points, fluffy. You and lover boy are 4 to-"

Tripitaka: (*glares angrily enough to send a chill up the shadow monkey's spine*)

Macaque, wisely: "Ah. Nevermind the batting average then."

The thankfully singleton cub Mèng Huàn (梦幻/"dream") is born looking similar to the cryptid Maltese Tiger - owning to her sire's azure-blue fur.

Her name comes from the fact she was very sleepy and easily-distracted as a cub, frequently losing focus while playing with her older siblings and wandering off in a daydream. The sort of baby who needs to be leashed to avoid misadventures.

As an older juvenile she still has trouble with daydreaming and wandering off - something that never fails to worry her parents and uncles.

Additional hilarity; if she's born closer to modern day then MK would have an aunt who's mentally just a little older than him. Imagine a big sister-figure twice his height who's too passive to admit when her Mcdonalds order is wrong.

Hangs around Metropolis more than not. Whenever she gets lost she knows how to backtrack to Pigsy's by the smell of his cooking + her older brother Tangzi.

Tbh is probably the person who set her Pigsy's order to drop off at the construction site - the gps on the app confused her.

[sunnyhvnny]

Can I request something dark where Daemon forces himself on the reader so that she will have to marry him.

I don’t know why this took so long but I was seriously drawing up blanks until now.

In The Lands of Gods and Monsters || Daemon x OC!Fem read on ao3

TW: Non-con, breeding, choking

She had felt the prince’s eyes on her ever since her father let him into their castle. She hadn’t been told why the prince had come to visit the Lord of Riverrun and she knew it was would be seen as impolite to ask so she only sat by her father’s side as he tried to make the prince feel welcome.

It was two days before the prince had stopped beating around the bush and had asked her father for her hand in marriage. She vaguely remembered that he had a wife of his own who sadly passed away after falling from her horse. That happened a little over a year ago and she wondered why her. She knew she had flowered and grown into a beautiful young woman over the past couple of years but surely there had to be stunning ladies in King’s Landing and at court. Her brother said as much when he came back from a visit.

She wasn’t even set to inherit Riverrun. Her brother was and he was already married with a son. She couldn’t think of any reason as to why a Targaryen prince, the only brother to the king, would want her as a wife. However, she couldn’t claim to understand the family that ruled over Westeros. They were a complete mystery to her.

“Prince Daemon, while it is an honor for a man of your standing to take such an interest in my daughter, I must decline your offer of marriage,” her father said and she could swear she saw something ugly pass over the prince’s face at being denied something he wanted. “You see, my daughter is already betrothed. She has been promised to the heir of House Glover since she was a child and they are to be wed next Spring.”

The prince nodded respectfully and when he raised his head to meet her eyes to wish her all the happiness with her betrothal it felt as if her heart dropped into her stomach. There was something in his lilac eyes that didn’t match his words. They tracked her every movement like she was his prey and he was a predator hungry for his next meal.

She pushed that thought away. Perhaps it was just her unease with the Targaryens. It wasn’t right to think the worst of them just because of what she thought of the family as a whole.

She was excused for the rest of the talks between her father and the prince and was only summoned back when it was time for supper. Her whole family was there plus the prince who seemed out of place amongst her close-knit family. While she picked at her venison and her nephew babbled on about how his mother took him down to the river to watch the fish, she was acutely aware of the unwavering gaze of the prince. He had yet to look anywhere else but at her and it almost felt like a dare for her to look up and meet his eyes but she wouldn’t. She refused.

When her mother nudged her thigh with her own, she knew that she was being rude and that it was showing but she didn’t care. She wanted the prince to leave as soon as possible and preferably without any pleasantries from her. She had heard stories about him. How he would go to the brothels in King’s Landing and buy girl’s maidenheads. She had also heard of rumors about him visiting noble houses in the Realm and enjoying the company of the daughters and servants of that house. She had dismissed that as pure rumor until a friend of hers from House Mormont birthed a baby with silver hair. It didn’t matter if her husband claimed the child as his own, everyone knew it was a Targaryen that had sired that child.

She counted down the minutes until she could politely be excused from supper and when she hit that marker in her head, she asked her father, not her mother, if she could be excused. He waved her off with a goodnight and she tried not to look like she was fleeing. Although, she was. The prince might not mean to do anything but it didn’t stop the horrid feeling that he might. She wanted to be tucked safely behind the doors to her chambers with her guards posted out there before the prince left the table.

Once she was back in her room, she took a much-needed breath. Her doors were shut tightly behind her and the guards, her father's men, stood outside like always.

She dug out a long-sleeved nightgown, one she didn’t often wear because of how high the neck was but she reasoned she would only wear it for that night until the dread in her gut went away.

It didn’t take her long to dress in her nightgown and when she climbed into her bed she quickly found comfort amongst her blankets and before she knew it she was falling asleep.

The sleep was dreamless and short. She couldn’t tell what woke her but when she blinked open her eyes it was still dark and the sun was clearly far from rising. Through the haze of sleepiness, she wasn’t aware of another person in her room but when she felt a warm hand grazes against the apex of her thigh, she jumped and suddenly she was wide awake.

To her right sat Daemon Targaryen without his tunic and a cruel smirk on his lips. His hand hadn’t moved from between her thighs and when she made to scramble away from him he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her flush against him. He was faster and much stronger than she was and her heart was beating so fast it felt as though it might leap out of her chest.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” he said quietly into her ear. His breath caressed her neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

She shivered at his words. How long had he been in her room? How long had he been playing with her unconscious body? Her room was supposed to be guarded. Where were her-

As calmly as she could she asked, “where are my guards, Daemon?”

He chuckled lowly and she could t tell if it was menacing because he meant it to be or if it was because of his grip on her. “Guards will do anything a prince tells them to if they are given enough coin. Right now, I’d wager they’re in the kitchen trying to get the kitchen maids to wet their cocks.”

Her breathing stuttered at his words. Her father's men, the men that were meant to protect her, just left her. Surely they had to know what Daemon would do.

“Don’t worry, dear,” this time his lips tickle her earlobes as he speaks. His one hand is still cupping her sex and she’s trying her best to ignore it. “It won’t be so bad. I just have to do something to convince your father to wed you to me.”

He grinds against her bottom with every word and despite him wearing breeches and her nightgown being in the way, she can still feel his hardness. She can’t stop the tears that start to run down her face or the gasping sobs she lets out. She doesn’t know what possesses her to ask but she does, “how are you going to convince my father to allow you to marry me? I am already promised to another and my father’s word is not a fickle thing.”

With ease he flips her around so she is laying on her back, staring up at him. There’s a hunger in his eyes that frighten her.

“Oh, I know,” he says. The bitterness in his voice is as plain as day but it doesn’t stop him from moving the hand that cupped her to come up and palm one of her breasts. It isn’t pleasant. It’s rough and he squeezes too hard and when she whimpers he only smirks. “Your father is a stubborn man but I think if I take his precious daughter's maidenhead he’ll have to marry you to me.”

Those are the words that finally make her kick at him. It doesn’t take him long to recover from her surprise kick but it is long enough for her to almost make it out of her large bed and run away, but instead, he grabs her by the ankle and with a growl tugs her to him. He waists no time in ripping her modest nightgown apart. She tries to scream but he covers her mouth with his large calloused hand while outside his red dragon, the blood wyrm, roars, and screeches, as if to cover up the sounds of his rider's sin.

While the dragon’s roars frighten her, the man leaning over her and untying his breeches frightens her more. She doesn’t stop her wiggling and fighting despite the fact that it only seems like a minor inconvenience to the prince. She doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about the fact that she is bare before him because his cock is now out and she can see for herself the length and hardness of it.

She makes one more valiant attempt to get away as he pulls his breeches completely off but his hand comes down hard across her face leaving her momentarily stunned. She has to blink to tears and spots out of her eyes. Her cheek stings but she doesn’t have time to worry about that as his hand that hit her comes down to wrap around her throat.

Her whimpers and cries are cut off with a tight squeeze. She can only watch as he lines his large cock up to her entrance. She doesn’t know much about coupling. Her mother was going to teach her before her wedding but she heard enough from her friends that she knows her own arousal and wetness should help him ease into her. However, she isn’t wet, only afraid. So when he slides into her with one quick hard thrust her scream is cut off at her throat.

He leans down to kiss her cheek. The one he hit and then he leans down to kiss both of her breasts. She wants to shield herself but she’s pushing at his chest weakly. Her strength is slowly leaving her as he pulls out and thrusts back in with the same harshness.

“Don’t worry, once we’re married I’ll focus on your pleasure but right now I need to fuck and breed you.” He says breathlessly as he starts a brutal pace. She cries out again only for her sounds to be drowned out by the dragon outside. “You’re father can’t say no to me if there is a possibility you might be carrying my babe.”

She closes her eyes hard. She doesn’t want to look at the man above her. The prince of the realm who so many people lusted after, who was now using her as if she was no better than a common whore. She tried to ignore the pain but she couldn’t. It was too sharp and she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face and hitting the sheets below her.

She heard a grunt come from above her as he thrust particularly hard. The next thing she knew her leg was being lifted so that her knee was touching her chest. The new angle allowed his cock to hit deeper in her. A moan left her lips as he hit a sweet spot inside of her. His face felt warm from embarrassment and she just knew that the prince was smirking down at her now.

“So you do like it?” he groaned as he continued to hit that spot inside of her. Soon the pain morphed into pleasure and she clenched her cunt in an effort to stop herself from being aroused. The prince choked out a moan when she did so and fastened his pace. ��See, this doesn’t have to be all that bad. Just let yourself enjoy it.”

She shook her head as best as she could with his tight grip around her throat. She didn’t care if she was starting to get wet or if she felt a pleasant tingle from his thrusts. She wouldn’t give him this satisfaction.

When he stopped talking, she noticed the noises that filled the room. It was the noises of skin slapping together and her own wetness being pounded into as groans and stifled moans echoed throughout her room.

Soon his thrusts turned sloppy. He leaned down to take her breast in his mouth again and bit down hard as he groaned. Hen tensed above her and less than a second later he was spilling his seed inside of her.

He detached his mouth from her with a pop and finally, she opened her eyes. His eyes bore down into hers as he continued to rut into her. His cock was softening but she knew what he was doing. He was pushing his seed deeper into her in hopes that it might take root and a babe would come out of it.

“I can’t wait to see you all nice and round as my child grows inside of you,” his words were accompanied by his rubbing a hand over her lower abdomen. She felt so tired and sore. All she wanted was for him to leave so she could curl up and go to sleep. “Your tits will be huge. Perfect to feed our child. You won’t be empty for long, though, don’t worry. As soon as I can I’ll put another babe in you.”

She could only sniffle at his words. When he took his hand off of her throat she wanted to scream and call for help but it felt so bruised and she was so exhausted that she found herself slowly drifting off.

Just before sleep overcame her, she felt fingers prodding at her opening. “I suppose I could take you one more time before I show this to your father.”

She never knew if he did anything else to her because sleep came for her instantly.

-

The next morning she woke up alone. She swung her head from side to side to look for the prince but did not find him. She had hoped for a brief second that it was all some sort of depraved dream before her body finally caught up with her mind. She felt sore all over and when she brought her hand down to the apex of her thigh, her fingers pulled away covered in blood and a white creamy substance that she knew was the prince’s seed.

It didn’t take long for a servant to come knocking at her door to let her know that her father wanted to see her. She only nodded and didn’t dare to look at the servant as she helped her dress.

She found her father quickly. He was sitting on the ancestral chair of their house with the silver-haired Targaryen prince before him. When she stepped up to her father she chanced a glance at the prince and saw a triumphant grin on his face. It was only then that she noticed her father holding her nightgown from last night. It was torn and bloody and she had no doubt that the prince had told him some version of what he did to his daughter.

Her father asked her no questions and instead informed her that a raven was sent earlier that morning to House Glover to inform them that the union between the two houses could not happen for his daughter was to marry prince Daemon. When she opened her mouth to protest her father held a hand up to silence her and told her that before the week was over she would wed the prince to protect her virtue and that she would leave for King’s Landing when he left.

She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to say something to defend herself but couldn’t find the words. Her friend was right, she supposed, no one could win against a Targaryen when they wanted something.

[kckt88]

Take My Breath Away IV.

Summary:

Aegon issues a threat and Vaeryna discovers the pleasure of her husbands touch.

Warning(s): Little Time Skip, Swearing, Angst, Threats, Kissing, Oral Sex - F Receiving, P in V Sex, Jokes, Regret.

Word Count: 3205

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

As it turns out Aemonds seed did not take root, as Vaeryna’s monthly bleeding arrived.

Aemond wasn’t sure whether he felt relieved or disappointed.

He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to be a father, because he was afraid of turning out like his own.

When Aegon was told he couldn’t sire more children, the need to provide a male heir had fallen to Aemond, and he accepted it as his duty.

But his guilt over the way he acted during the consummation with Vaeryna still lingered, they had not touched one another since and now she wasn’t with child, he knew he would have to lay with her again.

He had been summoned to a meeting with Aegon and their mother and as much as he wanted to refuse. He couldn’t.

So, after Vaeryna had gone out with her Cannibal, Aemond found himself slowly walking to his mother’s chambers.

The guard stationed outside nodded his head in respect and then opened the door.

“Prince Aemond. Your Grace”.

“Thank you, Ser Colton,” replied Alicent.

Aemond declined his mother’s invite to sit next to her, preferring instead to stand, his arms folded behind his back.

“Ahh brother. I heard that your wife had her monthly bleeding”.

“Yes, Your Grace” replied Aemond.

“Was it not made clear that you were to make every effort into putting a child inside your wife?”

“It was made clear Your Grace” said Aemond clenching his jaw.

“So why is my good sister not yet with child?” asked Aegon.

“These things take time Your Grace” exclaimed Aemond.

“Mayhaps it would help if you had actually bedded her more than once”.

“She does not care for it Your Grace” muttered Aemond.

“I don’t care. She is your wife, and it is her duty to provide you with children”.

“Aemond. You need to understand the situation your brother is in, without a male heir to succeed him he is in a vulnerable position” said Alicent calmly.

“I am aware of that mother” replied Aemond.

“Well then do something about it. You need to be fucking her every night in order to increase the chances of your seed taking root” snapped Aegon.

“Aegon” gasped Alicent.

“You had no trouble fucking that old whore from Harrenhal, so I don’t see your issue”.

“Your Grace-“

“You will do as your King commands, or do I need to stand over both of you to ensure that it is done” said Aegon.

“No, Your Grace” replied Aemond.

“Good. Now I expect you to fuck your wife tonight or there will be consequences. For both of you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Grace” said Aemond.

“You are excused” snapped Aegon waving his hand dismissively.

Aemond bowed respectfully and then left his mothers chambers.

He stormed through the corridors of the Red Keep, not wanting to speak too anyone and he had barely closed the door to his own chambers before he punched the wall.

“FUCK!!” exclaimed Aemond as the pain quickly lanced through his hand.

Gods he was angry. He needed to get out of there before he did something stupid, like go back to his mother’s chambers and beat the living shit out of his brother.

Ignoring the pain in his hand, Aemond quickly donned his riding leathers and went to Vhagar.

A few hours away from it all is exactly what he needed.

It was almost dusk when he returned to the Red Keep, sometimes his old girl could be difficult to rouse but today she’d been more than ready to take to the sky.

Aemond did wonder if he would cross paths with Vaeryna whilst he was on his travels but wherever she’d gone with her Cannibal he didn’t spot her.

Of course, he was curious where she would go, as she would often be gone for hours at a time but given how the time had gotten away from him whilst he was amongst the clouds he wasn’t too concerned.

In the weeks since their wedding, Aemond and Vaeryna had developed some form of friendship, they dined together every night and spoke often of historical facts or whatever they’d done during the day.

She would still speak her mind and insult him on occasion and even though it boiled his blood, he accepted it, because that just who she was, and he wasn’t going to try and change her because he knew that she’d tell him to fuck off if he ever dared to try.

His mother had once made a sniping jape about Vaeryna truly being her fathers daughter and Aemond couldn’t agree more, she even looked like him in certain light.

As he arrived in his chambers he was greeted by a hot bath.

“I figured you’d want to bathe; the air was rather cool today” said Vaeryna.

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he began pulling of his riding leathers.

“I’ll go into the lounge-“

“No. Stay. There’s something I need to tell you” said Aemond.

“Ok” replied Vaeryna looking away until Aemond stepped into the bath and lowered himself into the hot water.

Aemond leaned against the edge of the bath and closed his eye. The hot water soothing his aching muscles.

He almost forgot Vaeryna was there until she cleared her throat.

“You said you had something to tell me”.

“I’ve spent the last few hours practising this conversation and there’s no easy way to say this but-“

“For the love of all that is holy, just spit it out will you” snapped Vaeryna.

“The King has been made aware that you are not with child”.

“-And” sniped Vaeryna.

“He said bedding you only once was not sufficient enough to sire a child” replied Aemond.

“Tell that to the numerous silver haired bastards that he’s got running around the streets of silk-don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true” said Vaeryna.

“Be that as it may, he’s told me that we should be laying together every night in order increase the chances of my seed taking root”.

“Did he now?” retorted Vaeryna.

“He also said there would be consequences if we don’t” said Aemond.

“Did he indicate what these consequences could be?”

“No. But given how twisted my brothers mind can get, I shudder to think what he would come up with” said Aemond.

“So basically, your expected to rape me and I just have to accept it?” asked Vaeryna.

“No. I-I can’t do that to you again” muttered Aemond.

“But the King, said there will be consequences of we don’t” replied Vaeryna.

“Whatever happens, I will take the brunt of it, I won’t let him hurt you”.

“But those were the terms I accepted on my arrival to Kings Landing, I knew my purpose was to provide you with children and-“

“-You shouldn’t exist just for the purpose alone” mumbled Aemond as he began to look for a towel.

“Here, I placed it near the fire so it would be warm for you” said Vaeryna as she handed him a warm towel.

“Who taught you that?” asked Aemond.

“My mother. We used to go on family dragon rides and sometimes the skies around Dragonstone would get a little chilly, so she would always set towels in front of the fire to warm us up after we’d washed away the smell of dragon” said Vaeryna sadly.

“Sounds-nice” muttered Aemond.

Vaeryna nodded slightly and then turned around to give Aemond some privacy as he dried himself and pulled on a pair of loose breeches.

“Perhaps we could try-“ whispered Vaeryna.

“What?” exclaimed Aemond.

“It is rather admirable of you to want to bare the brunt of the Kings consequences, but you shouldn’t have to subject yourself to that”.

“What else can I do?”

“We could-” said Vaeryna quietly.

“-Surely your not suggesting what I think you are?” asked Aemond.

“Yes, I am” said Vaeryna as she began fiddling with the laces on her shift.

“N-No. Stop. I don’t-“

“-What’s the matter can’t you get it up for someone your own age, or do you prefer old lady cunny?” said Vaeryna smirking.

“Must you be so crass?” exclaimed Aemond.

“Would you have me any other way?” asked Vaeryna.

“No, I would not” replied Aemond.

“This is my choice Valzȳrys. As much as you are a cunt for what you’ve done to my family, I find myself unwilling to allow you to place yourself in harm’s way” said Vaeryna (Husband).

“You almost sound like you care”.

“If anyone was going to subject you to immeasurable cruelty then it will be me” said Vaeryna.

Aemond took a deep breath and sat on the bed.

“If were truly going to this, then you will treat me with reverence and you will give me the experience I would have gotten if you had known I was maid” said Vaeryna as she untied her shift and pulled it from her body.

“A-Are you sure?” asked Aemond.

“Your seriously asking me that as I stand in front of you as naked as my name day”.

“Just making sure” replied Aemond as he reached out and took Vaeryna’s hand guiding her to the bed.

“Now, show me what it feels like to enjoy the touch of my husband”.

Vaeryna had lost most of her senses the moment Aemond had pressed her onto the bed and knelt down between her open legs.

When he said he wanted to kiss her there, she never imagined this.

Vaeryna’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.

Vaeryna bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to tease her entrance.

“Ivestragī issa rȳbagon ao” growls Aemond (Let me hear you).

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Vaeryna.

Aemond pressed two fingers inside Vaeryna, moving them against a spot that made her entire body shake.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen my sweet. Come for me” whispered Aemond.

Vaeryna arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond crawled up Vaeryna’s body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Vaeryna blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself my little dragon” murmured Aemond.

“I-I’ve never-” mumbled Vaeryna.

“Was that your first peak?” asked Aemond.

Vaeryna blushed and nodded.

Aemond smiled as he leaned forward and slowly ran his tongue along Vaeryna’s bottom lip.

Vaeryna jumped when she felt Aemond’s cock against her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow” whispered Aemond as he reached down and took hold of his hard cock rubbing it along Vaeryna’s wet folds.

“Ok. I’m ready” replied Vaeryna, her heart pounding.

Aemond thrusts his hips forward and the entire hard length of him is buried inside Vaeryna.

“Oh” gasped Vaeryna.

She had expected to feel pain, but this was something else entirely.

Aemond rolls his hips gently at first, allowing Vaeryna the time to adjust to the feeling of his cock moving back and forth inside her, but when his wife begins issuing quiet yet insistent pleas of 'harder and faster' Aemond loses it and begins fucking Vaeryna into the mattress.

Their hips pound together as Aemond thrusts hard and fast, his movements brutal and precise.

“Fuck, Ryna” moans Aemond his cock throbbing with need.

“A-Aemond”

“What is it you desire, Princess?” asked Aemond, his thrusts becoming somewhat stuttered and messy, his singular eye screwed shut, he ready to burst at any moment. His silver hair stuck to his forehead, from the exertion of fucking his wife.

“You-Aemond-” gasped Vaeryna.

Aemond grinned, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, watching her body jerk with each movement of his hips.

He could feel her cunny fluttering around him, so he reached down to apply pressure to her pearl.

Vaeryna let out a chocked moan as she felt is finger swirling around her, she buried one hand into his long silver hair and the other grasped his arm so tight her knuckles had turned white.

Aemond pulls back slightly to watch with excitement as his wife peaks again around his length.

With a choked, staggered moan of his own, Aemond grips her so tightly, she would surely bruise, as he spills himself inside her hot, wet cunny. Filling her with rope after rope of his seed, thrusting shallowly to ensure it was as deep inside her as possible.

Aemond collapsed on top of Vaeryna, his face buried in her neck.

After he’d managed to catch his breath, Aemond slowly pulled his softened cock from his wife and laid down next to her, without thinking he enveloped her in his arms.

Vaeryna felt warm and utterly exhausted. She shifted to look up at her husband, watching as his eye opened to look down at her.

“A-Are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“I-I think so” replied Vaeryna.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll think I’m being stupid” said Vaeryna.

“No. I won’t you can tell me” suggested Aemond.

After a few moments of silence, Vaeryna took a deep shuddering breath.

“I can’t help but feel like I’m betraying Jace” whispered Vaeryna.

“I know you still have love in your heart for Jacaerys and being with me must be difficult, but we have to make the best of the situation we are in. Granted I did not know him well, but I’m sure Jace would be glad that you are alive” said Aemond.

Vaeryna smiled slightly and snuggled closer to Aemond.

“Do you not want to take that off?” asked Vaeryna.

“It is unsightly, I would spare you from gazing upon my disfigurement”.

“Aemond-I would like to see you, all of you” replied Vaeryna as she sat up.

After a few minutes of silence, Aemond took a shaking hand and unbuckled his eyepatch, showing Vaeryna what lurked beneath.

Both the upper and lower eyelids were missing, with the surrounding flesh red and scarred, yet nestled within the hollow where his eye had once been, was the brightest sapphire that Vaeryna had ever seen, it was so hauntingly beautiful.

Aemond moved his head and attempted to press his face into the mattress, almost as if he was scared of seeing her reaction to what he considered as ugly and shameful.

But Vaeryna gently placed her hand on Aemond’s scared cheek and smiled.

“Gevie zaldrīzes” (Beautiful dragon).

“Vaeryna” whispered Aemond as a lone tear trickled down his cheek.

Aemond smiled at Vaeryna and sat up, he placed his hands on her face and kissed her gently.

Suddenly the door burst open and Aegon sauntered in.

Vaeryna shrieked in horror and attempted to hide behind Aemond.

“WHAT THE FUCK AEGON” balled Aemond as he manoeuvred himself in front of his naked wife.

“I just wanted to check that you had taken my words seriously” replied Aegon as he spied the wine decanter.

“So that gives you the right to barge into my chambers” snarled Aemond.

“That’s rich coming from you, Mr I’m a Prince I’ll go wherever I please” muttered Vaeryna.

“Ryna, Now is not the time” quipped Aemond.

“I’m glad to see that you heeded my suggestion brother. But don’t forget you need to be fucking her cunny every night to ensure your seed takes. I want my heir” said Aegon.

“GET THE FUCK OUT” snarled Aemond.

“Oh, come now brother is that anyway to speak to your King” laughed Aegon as he took a sip of wine.

“Out there you might be the King, but in these chambers, you are nothing but my wastrel of an older brother, and if you do not remove yourself, I will not hesitate to skin you alive” retorted Aemond.

“Such violence, tell me good sister how do you put up with him” laughed Aegon.

“OUT” shouted Aemond as he jumped off the bed.

“Hmm, I can certainly see why she puts up with you. Quite impressive brother, truly a marvel-I’m honestly quite jealous” quipped Aegon as he looked Aemond up and down.

“Halt your vulgarity and get out” said Aemond as he seized Aegon by the collar and marched him towards the door.

“Don’t forget the wine brother” giggled Aegon.

“Take it and piss off, don’t ever barge in here again” exclaimed Aemond as he released Aegon.

The King who already seemed off his face, staggered to the wine decanter and took it into his greedy hands.

“Do remember what I said, I would hate to punish you both” said Aegon darkly.

“Ser Arryk, see that the King is safely escorted back to his chambers. He’s obviously taken leave of his senses” said Aemond as he held open the door.

“As you wish My Prince-this way Your Grace” said Ser Arryk as he took hold of Aegon’s arm and directed him down the corridor.

“Gods what a-CUNT” balled Aemond as he slammed the door.

Vaeryna stared at Aemond for a few seconds before she burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your naked you know” said Vaeryna.

“I-I was aware of that” mumbled Aemond, his cheeks-tinged pink.

“Oh, Its nothing to be embarrassed about husband, it is a little chilly in here after all, I’m sure it will return to its regular size eventually” joked Vaeryna.

“Are you jesting?” gasped Aemond.

“Try not to feel too bad” giggled Vaeryna.

After a few awkward seconds, Aemond caught onto Vaeryna’s joke and rolled his eye.

“Your impossible you know that” replied Aemond as he got back in bed.

“It’s your brother that’s the impossible one, he took the wine and now we have nothing to drink” said Vaeryna.

“Fucking Aegon” muttered Aemond as he jumped from the bed.

“Don’t forget breeches this time” suggested Vaeryna, hiding her face in the covers.

“It’s nothing the maids haven’t seen or had before” replied Aemond smugly.

“WHAT?” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“Surely you didn’t think Alys was my only experience”.

“Oh, well no-I just assumed that-“ stuttered Vaeryna.

“Good job I’m joking then isn’t it” quipped Aemond as he pulled on his breeches and tunic.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Got you didn’t I-Should’ve seen the look on your face” laughed Aemond.

“Piss off” muttered Vaeryna.

“Oh, come now ābrazȳrys. Don’t sulk. After I’ve got more wine, how about I put a smile on that pretty face of yours” said Aemond.

“How are you going to do that?” asked Vaeryna.

“Mayhaps I shall insist that you are to take my cock again and ride me like an unclaimed dragon in front of the fireplace”.

“Aemond” gasped Vaeryna blushing.

 “So, wine and the-“

“Yes, I would like wine and the other” whispered Vaeryna.

“That’s my girl” said Aemond as he pressed a quick kiss to Vaeryna’s forehead and left the room in search of wine.

‘That’s my girl’  The words awakened a latent memory in her mind and Vaeryna felt her heart flutter in her chest.

Jace used to say to her. He would whisper it as he pressed his forehead against hers after they had shared sweet kisses.

She could almost remember the feeling of his curly hair in her hands as she used to clutch at it in her desperation to feel him closer.

“Jacaerys” sobbed Vaeryna as she threw herself onto the bed and buried her face into the pillow.

[ultrainfinitepit]

Town of Puddle: Vampires

Last updated 08/14/2023

In the world of Puddle, vampire is a catch-all term for any humanoid creature that needs to consume something from a human to survive - usually human flesh or blood, but some subsist on other things such as emotions, dreams, etc. The most common vampire is the classic undead vampire. Vampires are usually immortal or very long-lived. 

While vampires are thought to have any number of origins, there is in fact one singular origin from which they descend. The first vampires were nephilim, the children of the demon Asherah and the angel Rapha. Asherah was the queen of a kingdom named Hell. Tales of this kingdom and her rule would pass through the ages and become distorted into mythology. Rapha was an angel of blood with a terrible hunger his children would inherit. Both are long dead and gone, but their influence on their descendants lingers. Common vampiric powers, such as glamours and shapeshifting, come from these ancient ancestors.

Asherah and Rapha’s children were destined to rule, for a time anyway, over all corners of the earth. Some were more suited to the forests or mountains or cities, others to the sea or even the skies. These first vampires would eventually give rise to all the different types of vampires we see today.

The kingdoms of vampires were matriarchal, modeled after Asherah’s own kingdom. Matriarchs are a special type of vampire suited to rule, and childbirth. Mundane vampires have difficulty bearing children, most being completely infertile. Natural-born vampires are thus rare but not unheard of. Most vampires nowadays are turned, from human to vampire as other creatures are immune or will simply die to vampirism.

A childe (plural, childer) is a vampire that has been turned by another, who is their sire. One of the few remaining widespread cultural norms for vampires, is that a sire has some degree of responsibility for their childer shortly after they are turned, and it is good practice to teach them local vampire rules, history, and etiquette.

While most vampires prefer solitary existences, many vampires form groups for mutual support. These groups often vie for power in shadowy undergrounds that exist away from human eyes. A vampire group might be called a gang, a pack, or a coven.

Below are my named vampires so far. If you’re curious about even more, @wyrmzier also has their own Puddle vampire characters you can ask about.

Vivian Moon used to be human, but she was turned into a vampire. She is like a siphonophore, a colony inhabiting a human form. Because she is a colony of organisms she can survive grave injuries or even dismemberment, for short periods of time. When her limbs are separated from her body they have their own intelligence, like an octopus’s. Vivian works as a forensic consultant for a special precinct dedicated to investigating monster-related crimes. 

Ethel Stone is Vivian’s friend in City Hall, who keeps her informed of political goings-on and secretly helps out her fellow vampires. Ethel is a lamprey vampire.

Teutho Melua is a vampiric pirate captain with a love of theatrics and parties. He is Vivian and Mordecai’s sire. Teutho is initially very narcissistic and bloodthirsty, but after some character development he becomes slightly less narcissistic. He is still bloodthirsty.

Mordecai Esadze is Teutho’s first mate. He is dark, serious, and grumpy, to balance Teutho’s more flashy personality. Mordecai is responsible and secretly more of a softie than he lets on.

Adelaide is Mordecai’s childe, his only one. As a human she sought the change, vampires call these sorts of humans “bite-chasers.” Now she manages a modest network of underground clubs and casinos, and in her spare time enjoys breeding snakes.

Lilian Heather is the adopted daughter of Samuel, and an up-and-coming actress.

Melanthios is an ancient vampire, thousands of years old and now more monstrous than humanoid. He is Menodora’s mate.

Malakos was the youngest of Menodora’s children, a cruel and egotistical vampire who controlled a small criminal empire on the Black Sea. He was Teutho’s sire, and was killed by Teutho and Mordecai.

Hyacinth is another of Malakos's childer, who pursues Teutho for a time.

Chise is Vivian’s mother, a bakeneko vampire. She abandoned Vivian at a young age, leaving her with no knowledge of her heritage.

Lycan was an ancient vampire, a child of Rapha and Asherah. His pursuit of a cure for vampirism led to the creation of werewolves.

Felisity is an ancient cat vampire, and a Matriarch. She was a queen of a small kingdom and was worshipped as an aspect of the goddess Bastet for many years, but eventually was dethroned and went into hiding.

[hyperbali]

Presenting the Aeducan family tree! 👑

I actually put a lot of thought into this so I'm gonna sum up under a cut, lol

King Endrin Aeducan, Ninth of his House: What it says on the tin. As Bhelen mentioned, he was actually a second son, and took the kingship in... less than entirely honest ways; nevertheless, his rule is largely uneventful, but for the worsening of differences between the different castes. He has many children of many mothers, but only three were properly risen - and of them, his 'only' daughter is the favourite.

Lady Tasleen Saelac, The Iron Queen: Endrin's first wife, mother of Trian. She was the Commander of Orzammar's forces, and an extremely difficult-to-please person in general; she expected nothing but perfection from her son and troops alike. She would eventually die during a Deep Roads excursion, sending back only one survivor to relay the message of her party's demise because, as quoted, "he did not deserve the honor of such a death". One of her cousins is Gorim's father.

Lady Nysmila Ivo, Jewel of Orzammar: Said to be one of the most beautiful women that ever lived in the underground. It's unclear whether Endrin truly loved her, she was incredibly politically savvy, or a combination thereof, but she was the only other woman Endrin married - thus legitimizing her children by him; a fairly Herculean task, given just how many bastards he sired. One day, she simply disappeared; despite every effort to find her, it's unknown whether she was abducted, killed... or vanished of her own accord. Her absence remains strongly felt within the palace walls and throughout.

Prince Trian Aeducan, The Crown Prince: His position as heir to the throne is a given, or so he believes; he has waited a very long time to finally be given his proper dues. Despite his heritage, however, he's not a particularly strong warrior; he just knows how to browbeat people into doing what he wants, and his position leaves little room for argument.

Princess Alana Aeducan, The Golden Lady: Her mother's ambition and her father's preference have led Alana to a fairly cushioned, comfortable life; that said, she loves the thrill of the fight, and is both the strongest and fastest of her siblings - even if it's with daggers rather than a sword or shield. She wears the tattoos of Commander, a role bequeathed to her against Trian's wishes, and she is by far the most popular royal between the three... a fact both of her brothers find incredibly difficult to stomach.

Prince Bhelen Aeducan, Lord of Secrets - Being neither the heir or the spare, Bhelen was largely left to his own devices as a child, especially because he was still very young when Nysmila went missing; her disappearance, however, became the catalyst that would lead to his becoming the most knowledgeable spymaster in Orzammar. He puts on a friendly face, for the most part, but what he has learned from his family history is that the ends always justify the means.

[lunastrophe]

Hello ! This is DiamondoDusto, the person who asked you about fashion and beauty amongst drow society. First of all thank you for answering. Second of all : I got more questions to ask indeed.

- How was pregnancy and labour perceived for drow females ?

- Were the braids meaningful in their society ? For instance, was it something alike game of thrones with the dothraki and their one battle one = one more braid ?

- What of the fatherly role in kids’ life?

- Did Jarlaxle and Minathara know one another?

- What is Jarlaxle ´station amongst the Drows’ society ?

Merci❤️

Hello again 🙂

🕷️ About pregnancy, I vaguely remember reading that drow females generally end up pregnant only when they want to get pregnant, and unplanned pregnancy is rather unheard of, especially among nobles. Drow females are very particular when it comes to choosing their children's sire (Lolth-sworn drow practice selective breeding).

During pregnancy, a drow female typically hopes that the child will be also female. Having many daughters is seen as a sign of Lolth's favour - also, male who has a history of siring many daughters is seen as valuable.

Matron mothers usually try to have as many daughters as they can, in hope to secure their position and strengthen their house. More daughters = more potentially powerful priestesses to support the house and enforce matron mother's will.

Suggesting a pregnant matron mother that she may be carrying a son is never a good idea... even if it is true. A drow seer told that once to pregnant Malice Do'Urden - she was not happy, she deemed it insulting both to her and to the child's sire, and in the end, she simply refused to believe it.

🕷️ During labour, a drow female is typically assisted by other females, usually trusted family members (Malice Do'Urden was assisted by her daughters). It is one of rare moments when a drow female is very vulnerable and is forced to fully rely on others to support and protect her. Most drow females probably pray for swift labour and birth.

The moment of birth can be used by a drow mother as the source of magical power. So-called birth magic is rarely used or even spoken of, though, since its power can be extremely destructive - also, most of the children born during such rituals are third sons, traditionally sacrificed to Lolth.

🕷️ There is also this (in)famous article in Dragon Magazine #298 (Flesh For Lolth: The Secret Life of Dark Elves by R. Laws) in which it is said that drow females usually carry twins or even triplets, but the siblings fight during their prenatal development until only the strongest one remains. These fights (and kills) are supposed to produce strong "euphoric sensation" in the mother's body, and that sensation is called chad-zak in Undercommon. It is also stated that without this incredibly pleasant aspect of pregnancy, drow females, "selfish to the core", probably would not want to "suffer the inconveniences of reproduction" at all.

This article, though, is totally over-the-top in many places - and personally, I prefer to treat this part more like a collection of surfacers' gossips about drow. I mean... seriously 😂

🕷️ About braids, I have not found anything new on this topic save for what I have written in my previous reply.

But if you want to give your drow some meaningful hairstyle (for example, connect braids to number of survived battles), you may create your own headcanon about it and incorporate it into your character's backstory. This is D&D - and Underdark is vast. There may be some drow community in which braids have some very specific meaning 😉

🕷️ As for the role of father in drow child's life, you can find some information about it in this post, "Parenting" section. Long words short, in Lolth-sworn drow society father's role is typically extremely limted. Male drow are often not even allowed to perceive children they sired as "theirs".

🕷️ Considering the source material - we do not know if Minthara and Jarlaxle ever met.

Still, Minthara is daughter of Baenre from Menzoberranzan, so I bet that she knows about Jarlaxle - and Jarlaxle most likely knows at least some basic things about her.

🕷️ Jarlaxle and his station, heh... I would say that his status is simply unique and rules of drow social hierarchy simply do not apply to him 😉 Especially since he very clearly rejected them.

[thesixthplaneteer]

Hi, for the VTM OC Ask Game, I would love to know the following for Harri and Godwynn: 6, 10, 16, 30! Thank you 🙏

Hello! thank you for the ask and sorry it took so long to respond <3

6. What was their relationship to their sire? Were they close in any way or mere strangers? Harri - He was embraced by Ta-Urt, a direct child of Set believing herself to be the goddess of fertility, childbirth, and black magic. She is actively worshipped as a goddess by the Cult of Taweret, a cult within the followers that heavily practices the Path of Ecstasy. Harrakhty was brought in after being able to sneak into her temple and made it as far as the treasure room. At first he was taken as a pet but his deep dive into devotion and acceptance of the cult tenants made Ta-Urt see some potential. She then groomed him for centuries. Convincing him he was Sobek reborn. They were incredibly close with Harri convincing himself he was the favorite of the Goddess and a very unhealthy matronly dynamic that would have made Sigmund Freud blush. She guided and shaped him into the very thing he is today. Godwynn - He was embraced soon after the final battle of the War of Roses. He was injured and in his recovery was unknowingly conversing with the man that would become his sire. Godwynn holds great respect for Walder and they were as close and any packmate and pack leader would be with the knightly fraternity of their mostly Ventrue Antitribue pack but it was very much a commander and soldier relationship. Godwynn preferred it like that. He looked up to Walder and aspired to be every bit of the warrior he was. The only time Godwynn recalls feeling sadness was the night Walder met final death.

10. What is their relationship to that childe if they do have one? Harri - Even as old as he is he has rarely sired with none making it to modern nights. He would find a promising aspirant in the cult and bring them by his side. They would be close, very close, as he guided them through the gates of enlightenment. However at some point he is disappointed by them or his wife decides she let it go on long enough, or they thought they would be able to replace the wife. Ambition seemed to always get in the way of him having a progeny that can last. In modern nights he embraces a ghoul he had for nearly a century. An enforcer/bodyguard type that he has taken strides with to try and make it work out. Godwynn - He has never sired, being far to hard on his ghouls and potential childer. He would build knight and squire type relationships and put them through all imaginable torments to prepare them to become a crusader.

16. How good are they at acting “alive”? Harri - He hangs around mortals enough he can act alive, however he himself is a walking masquerade breach but Obfuscate helps with that. He may be seen as eclectic or quirky but he can act alive. Godwynn - Terrible at it. He only started even using the blush of life in modern nights to appease his Bishop turned Prince. He will do the bare minimum to keep the masquerade, otherwise he makes no effort.

30. Do they have a clan that they do particularly like? Harri - The necromancer clans. Necromancy may hold some secret to bringing Set back so he has always been fond of the clans that now make up Hecata. With the miracles Noa helps him perform in modern nights, they are the top of his like list. Godwynn - Tremere, for all the wrong reasons. He likes the taste of warlock vitae the most and enjoys hunting them. He even developed counter thaumaturgy after a diablerie or two because he enjoys the smug looks faded form their face when they realize their greatest weapon is rendered null. He holds no particle hate for them, they're just fun to hunt. Outside of his own clan he doesn't care at all about the others.

[sansacherie]

I'm sorry, but going into Alicent's tag and saying that her SA'ing Laenor is more likely than Rhaenyra not handling the situation with Dyana any better/treating it worse than Alicent did is so unhinged and nasty.

The same woman who y'all made fun of her for her own SA (her show CANONCIAL, since y'all love that word) you turn around and accuse her of being a potential rapist to Laenor, based off what? Her making some snarky comments?

Furthermore, nowhere have I seen the suggestion that Rhaenyra should have forced herself upon Laenor, my God. If she couldn't have children with Laenor, that's fine, because she already had heirs in the form of her brother and sister (Alicent might also have been pregnant with Aemond as well) if Viserys was to suddenly croak while they were still betrothed for example.

Obviously Rhaenyra being married to someone who couldn't perform with a woman isn't great, but I think that conversation that was had in Fire & Blood about eating fish when it is served to you even when you don't like it, there was an understanding that Laenor wasn't the first gay man to be married, but like the others he would be ready to sire children. The best example is Renly Baratheon who had every intention of getting Margaery Tyrell with his child even though like Laenor everybody knew about his preferences. Ultimately they were wrong.

Of course, I also know the Velayrons are used as an excuse because Corlys wanted his blood on the throne but while nobles who make these alliances do so with the understanding that their children's children will inherit if they are born, there is also the acceptance that these children might also never be concieved/born. If Laenor and/or Rhaenyra were infertile, if Laenor died before Jace was conceived, if Rhaenyra did get pregnant but died in childbirth with Jace..... these are the realities for a lot of marriages and Corlys is proud, not stupid.

[incomingalbatross]

Below: my attempt at a retelling of Tam Lin, with a little more emphasis on the Baby as a central concern.

---

The first time Janet goes to Carterhaugh, in the early spring, she wears a green cloak on her shoulders and a gold ring on her finger. She's curious, not stupid. She knows the prices Tam Lin is said to demand for trespassing, and she is prepared with every option.

The second time Janet goes, in the later spring, she wears her cloak but does not bother with a ring. She is more confident now, since her first meeting with Tam Lin, and thinks the cloak is a price worth paying to meet the fairy man again.

The third time Janet goes, it is summer. She wears no cloak, and wears no ring; and when she plucks the rose and Tam Lin appears, she sees him notice this even before he meets her eyes.

She smiles at him.

Later, when she wakes in the wood, she wakes alone. She finds her way home by moonlight, and wonders if she will ever go to Carterhaugh again.

There is no future there for her, she knows, no future with Tam Lin but these woodland meetings. He may never even appear to her again, now that she is no maiden... and she may never seek him out again, now that she has proven all the tale.

Time goes by, and Janet puts the memory of those hours in Carterhaugh away. There's much to be done about her father's court—sensible, daylight things, of the mortal world and not the fairy one.

She did not reckon with the fact that those hours might not be done with her...and so even after a week of sickness, when her father said, "I fear you are with child," it was Janet who was most taken by surprise.

That should have been one risk lessened, she had thought, by chancing herself in Carterhaugh and not with one of her father's knights.

Now she was struck with fear; for it had been one thing to take this affair upon herself, but what had she done to this babe inside her? Was it a mortal babe, sired as it had been by a fairy creature, and one she barely knew? Even at the best, what would the babe do in the life she had made for it, growing up fatherless and in dishonor?

Her own father, always kind and mild, did not press her when she said the father would not be found among his court. He frowned mournfully at that, but gave her time, to consider what the child's fate might be.

She was still considering, though, when the oldest, grayest, dourest of her father's men shook his head at her and said, "Ah, and now our lady is with child? It's us knights who'll bear the blame for it, Lady Janet, you will see."

"Hold your tongue!" she snapped back, thoughts broken by her scorn. "As if," she said, "I'd let any child of mine be claimed by you—or any of your company—or ever give any of you reason for such a claim."

Some of those within earshot laughed; but one, a younger knight, shot back, "And what manner of man is it, then, who is so preferred to us, but who has not claimed the child?"

Janet looked at him, and all those around, and thought of Tam Lin. Strange, uncanny Tam Lin, of airy form and shifting mood, remote and strange and dangerous—but Tam Lin, still, whom she had sought out once, and again, and a third time, for more than the mere adventure of it all. Tam Lin as she had come to think of him, fair and brave beneath his strangeness, with a hidden warmth and gravity in him—she thought—that had come out for her, more and more in the short times they had spent together.

Janet could, perhaps, be fairly dense in recognizing uncomfortable truths, but when she did recognize them she faced them squarely and without flinching.

"He is the one who holds my heart," she said to the younger knight, clear for all the world to hear, "as well as the naming of my babe—and if he were a mortal man, and not a fairy strange, he'd be a better knight than you could ever hope to face!"

In the silence, she swept away to her own rooms.

---

Once there, however, she fairly collapses into her seat, picking up her sewing automatically simply to occupy her hands. (It is the finishing work on a mantle, green as leaves and grass; a replacement for the one she left with Tam Lin, some months ago.)

Despite her words down below, she is keenly aware that Tam Lin is not a mortal man. A fairy cannot serve as father to a human child (and again, she thinks with a thrill of unease, is her child going to be human?), and yet Janet knows now that she will not—cannot—consign herself and her child into the keeping of any other man she knows. She will not give her child, or her heart, to any man but the one who has true claim to them...and he is no man at all.

Or...

Well, what is he?

As she sits and finishes her seam, Janet becomes uncomfortably aware of how little she knows of Tam Lin. Perhaps, if he knew, he might be able to propose something she could not—if, that is, he is human enough to care.

"Well," she says aloud, jumping up, letting needle and thimble fall to her feet. "There is only one way to learn.

So she braids up her hair and straightens her skirts and sweeps the new mantle around her: and again, for the fourth time, Janet goes to Carterhaugh, to the well where they met before.

This time, though, she does not pluck one of Tam Lin's roses. She looks around her, thoughtfully, and spies a patch of herbs she knows full well a pregnant woman should not let near her mouth. She bends, and gathers some in her hand...

And is stopped by a small, cold hand upon her wrist, the hand of a fairy knight.

"What are you doing, Janet?" Tam Lin demands, voice urgent, face pale and set. "What are you doing to our child, the child we got between us?"

And that answers half of her questions, right there.

Janet straightens to face him, a rush of warmth chasing out the chill that's been following her. "I would not harm our child," she said, hand resting on her belly, "and truly, Tam Lin, I would carry this child through day and night, summer and winter, for love of it and love of you."

Her face warms, but she sees his eyes soften in surprise, and it is worth it.

"But," she says then, and watches him stiffen in wariness, "but, Tam Lin, I must know whose child I bear."

She stops for a moment, watching him; but he only watches her back, his slim shoulders set back, unearthly face still as the hills. Only his eyes show feeling—a flicker of some intense feeling, far beneath the dark surface, like a caged hawk waiting for a door to open.

"Tam Lin, tell me," Janet says, with a breath taken in silent, desperate prayer. "Did you ever pass through the church-door, or feel the water on your forehead? Were you ever earthly knight, or any kind of man who rode beneath the Cross?"

At her questions, that feeling leaps out of his eyes, and Tam Lin's face comes alive with all the warmth and laughter she has ever seen in it.

"Yes, Janet, yes," he says, and Janet sits down hard on the curb of the well. "I was a man like any other," he continues, taking her hand, "a youth of this country trained for knighthood, until the day I fell from my horse into the Queen of the Fairies' hands."

Her love has a soul, like to her own—and a heart, what's more, for her and the babe. This, Janet thinks, is the most important thing. Everything else, they can manage.

Of course, this is before her love goes on to tell her of the fairies' tithe to Hell.

"Tonight?" she asks incredulously. "You ride to pay the tithe tonight?"

He smiled at her. "If you had decided to see me a little earlier, perhaps..."

"Perhaps if you had told me sooner," she said, "that the Fairy Queen meant your soul to go to Hell, I would have—" But then she stopped herself.

"I did not think," he said gently, "after your last coming, that any reason would arise for you to see me here, let alone to miss me."

And then, from something in his face, and from the sudden memory of his manner at that time, Janet guessed that, then, they had both been using one another. If she had sought adventure and pleasure that came free of the consequences of her father's court, Tam Lin had perhaps been seeking that same pleasure, and a respite, away from the knowledge of his doom. And then they had parted ways, affection mingled with their half-hidden guilt, never to meet again.

But then another life had entered the affair. Another life that neither of them would willingly see harmed, even by their own foolishness.

"You are not the Queen's," she said at last, meeting his eyes fiercely, "and you are not her court's, and you are not going to any devils while I breathe. So how do I take you from them all, Tam Lin?"

He smiled, like a man who had just seen his first sunrise in seven years, and he told her.

---

When Janet met the Fairy Court riding at the crossroads that night, she had no time for fear. She was repeating his instructions in her mind.

"First you'll let the black horse pass, and then you'll let the brown—"

—and then she leapt for the unfamiliar armored figure on the white steed, dragging him down into her arms while all the procession crashed to a halt.

The figure wavered in her arms, and writhed, and became something small and slithering—

"They'll turn me in your arms, to an adder or an asp."

The snaked seemed to rear and then strike, fangs bared, at her body. Janet stiffened, but kept her grasp tight, refusing to recoil.

You, she reminded herself and it, are the father of my child.

And as its head reached her belly the snake's mouth closed, merely tapping her with its snout—"Hold me fast and fear me not," she almost heard—

Before wavering again, and growing, encompassing her in fur and musk and muscle until it seemed as though her arms physically could not wrap around it.

"They'll turn me once again, to a grim and fearsome bear."

Janet set her teeth, and held fast. You are, she thought again, my earthly mate to be.

And its claws and strength were not turned against her; but just as her grasp began to feel more like a hug, the shape wavered again, to something hard and sharp and searing—

"They'll turn me to an iron brand, red-hot as blazing fire."

Janet hugged the iron tight to her breast, through a pain like none she had ever known before, and concentrated all her will on not letting go.

She could not think, but she could remember.

"But hold me fast and fear me not," her true love's voice had said, "and I'll do you no harm..."

And just like that, the pain was gone. The shape in her arms changed, in a way somehow unlike the other changes, into something real and warm and permanent, solid and familiar.

Quick as thinking, Janet swept her mantle over the naked man kneeling against her, covering him in her cloak and arms as he rested his head on her belly.

Above them both, atop a tall mount, the most beautiful woman Janet had ever seen glared down at them.

Janet stared back, triumphant and unafraid.

"So you are stolen, Tam Lin," the Queen of the Fairies said, her voice frozen with rage.

"Not stolen," Janet said at once. "If I had stolen him tonight, I know I could not have kept him. He already belonged to us."

Her love straightened to lift his head beside her, face clear in the moonlight—like and yet not like his fairy face, she thought, but not unlike in ways that she would miss. His breath was warm on her cheek, as he turned to face the Queen.

Whatever the Queen saw there, she hissed at, a long indrawn breath.

"If I had known," she said, "Tam Lin, what drew your eyes from me, I'd have taken them from your skull this night and changed them for eyes of wood.

"If I had known," she said again (with a poisonous look to Janet), "what pulled your heart from me, I'd have taken it from your chest this night and changed it for one of stone."

But with that, she cracked her reins, and—the court sweeping in disarray behind her—rode off and vanished into the morning mist.

Tam Lin turned his eyes to Janet, smiling wide and joyful.

"And I am father to your babe," he said, taking her hand, "and I will be your mate in life, and I will be your true love, Janet, as long as you will be my wife."

"As my love I claimed you," she said, smiling too, "and as my husband-bound-to-be, and as the father of my child: so, Tam Lin, these things are yours for good, and so too I will be."

Home then they went, and the banns were read, and in due course came the marriage and the child. And the story was often told by their hearth, as that child grew older, of the role it had first played in bringing its parents through peril.

[ruthlesslistener]

I'm curious how you'd imagine a full blooded wyrm would regard a wyrm hybrid child of an ascended wyrm, like in Hornet's case? (pff aside from the obvious kill death kill kill)

It depends on the individual wyrm, really! It's hard to say exactly what they'd think as a whole because wyrms are not social animals, so while they value power and resources, there aren't really any standards about what's 'acceptable' and what not. Some wyrms would likely find it a waste, and a dilution of the bloodline, both others might consider it to be quite clever- a way of ensuring that their legacy lives on if their fullblood brood fails, and a means of securing their hold on their kingdoms beyond what another god can shake from them. Demigod hybrids, I imagine, are rare to almost unheard of among wyrmkin due to the strongly independant and controlling nature that many posess, but I don't think that PK is the only wyrm-demigod sire out there, even if he's unique in that he chose to permanantly modify his physical form to live among bugs (I imagine conception with other wyrm gods would be either spiritual or with an avatar they summon for the deed alone). Most would be too preoccupied with their own lives to bother though I feel, and if a wyrm found a wyrm-hybrid demigod, the same 'mate or die' rules would apply. Hornet's a rare breed indeed

...I only just realized that you didn't specify demigod hybrids specifically. Oops. In the case of other Higher Beings x Wyrmkin offspring, however, I feel like the same rules apply, albiet that it's far more common than mating with a mortal. It's typically limited to more daring or curious wyrms, yes, but a core part of determining if a mate is worthy is 'how quickly can it kill me/how brave is it to try', which is a standard that many Higher Beings can meet just fine. They're still not very common, but they're also not uncommon enough to be unheard of. Wyrms that produce them are kind of like the alienfuckers of their kind- more common than you'd think, but still in the shadows. And even a wyrm with diverse sexual interests would still prefer to destroy a rival and expand their territory rather than mate most of the time

I CAN tell you that PK's mother would be disgusted with him for refusing to sire any fullblood god-heirs and watering down his bloodline with mortals though (that is, if she ever bothered to check in on her cringe failson). At least, until she meets Hornet. Then she'd be singing praises about her spirit, strength, and cunning while also betrating PK about how he's less of a wyrm than the spider he used to create her and it would be an entire shitshow that Hornet would have absolutely no idea how to feel about

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 5 Reckless

Again late for day 5 whumpril,

Back to Stolen Three, follows after this "you lied to me" set around The Originals 2x20

Warnings for past self harm.

---

Finn is starting to realise Elijah is in fact an easy younger sibling to deal with, even if he has an amazing ability to test Finn patience with just a sentence and the fact finn knows he does it for his own amusement but as he watched the Mikaelsons snap and snarl at each other with a growing headache, he had been lucky to just have Elijah.

Freya paced behind the couch he had claimed after he had received the invitation from Kol.

He wonders if she’s disappointed in the siblings she had wanted to meet since Dahlia had told them what Mother had done to her new children before their first sleep. Klaus had been openly cold and suspicious of her since she approached them first, Finn is aware the only reason he was accepted easier is because he arrived alongside the resurrected Kol.

It had taken most of the power he had gather during th century sleep, neither him or Elijah were firstborn and so didn’t have the sheer amount of power Dahlia and Freya did but besides Kol being his younger brother who had been used and killed again by their mother, he had both been the one you sired Sage and so allowed Finn to meet the love of his life he was also the one to bring her back once their mother brought him back in a witches body.

Finn doesn’t want to think how he would have felt to wake up and discover her gone, his one escape from Dahlia taken from him while he was asleep. 

Instead he had met her in their normal place and had been filled in on the full story of what was happening with his family.

So with only a little convincing from Sage, he had brought the stranger, another younger brother, back to life.

It wasn’t the first time he had met the man that had given Sage her immortality and in a way he had alway known they were brothers, they had figured out the first vampires were their siblings even without the last name.

But back then he had been focused on making the most of his last days with Sage and had ignored the familiarity that Kol reminded him of, weeks later he had seen Elijah for the first time in nearly a year and been smacked in the face with it. 

At least he found someone in their family he could compare Elijah’s looks to beside their aunt he had thought weakly.

Still using his blood and the other’s soul to bring him back cemented the fact and crushed any small denial that any of this was his problem.

The other was angered at being a vampire again and Finn had to admit feeling a little bad for him, even after a lifetime linked to Dahlia he would miss his magic, but he had accepted they needed more to defend against Dahlia.

Finn would rather die than watch Dahlia do to another, his innocent niece what she had done to Elijah. They were too close for him to pretend it wouldn’t end the same way.

Mother would prefer to kill her grandchild than fight the one who stole her first three children, she used and threw away one child like a tool, would torture her other children to get what she wanted, in a way she was worst than Dahlia. 

The disgust that filled him when he learned mother had tried to kill her other children, for all the monsters she made he had expected better of her, perhaps it was the last of his childhood innocence hidden and protected since he took the witch's hand and followed her from the hut.

He hated how it also proved every argument with Freya over her, pointless, his sister was right over the heartless monster their mother was.

It made finally seeing her again bitter, a vampire in another’s stolen body. He was thankfully Elijah had never had the attachment to be disappointed.

He offered Freya a smile as she paced back behind him, she sent him a weak smile back and stopped pacing to join him sitting, they both ignored the sound of something smashing and turned back to the room their siblings and separated themselves to, since Klaus was refusing to admit killing the werewolf was a mistake.

Finn didn’t need to ask where Klaus got the idea that fear was a good way to keep control; he had seen the start of what their father was becoming after Freya’s loss apparently that had gotten worse, and it was clear Klaus got his self righteousness from their mother.

They watched as Henrik said something they didn’t hear but managed to make Klaus flinch and for a moment look guilty.

Finn stiffened at the image if Kol had been bad enough of a copy of Elijah, they both shared a dramatic and devious nature from what little he had seen. Meeting Henrik was worse, as it seemed his younger brother and their youngest brother had both developed the ability to wield guilt like a weapon.

Finn’s arm twinged suddenly and he jumped looking down at his arm before he felt it happen again and he realised it was his scars.

He and Freya had long ago worked out Elijah’s sensitivity to their magic in the link was due to being linked before he had grown old enough to have a real sense of the world. The closest Finn got to what Elijah had explained was after his brother had attempted to heal his self inflicted wounds before Dahlia found them. The scars would itch whenever Elijah was close or used a large amount of magic, the latter rarely happened.

So he shouldn’t have been that surprised when the four vampire's necks snapped and they all dropped to the floor like puppets with their sting cut, shortly followed by Elijah walking into the place at a calm pace. 

His brother alway had his own way to doing things, a quiet threat but one nonetheless, and while Finn had been missing him, concerned over where he was since he was headed here to look for Freya as soon as they woke up Finn would rather Elijah had stayed as far away until after Dahlia was dealt with or she dealt with them.

Elijah was going to throw himself in the middle to try and buy mercy from their aunt for them and there was no way she would allow that to stand after they openly tried to break her and mother’s deal.

He was only going to get himself hurt.

Dahlia had taken them last time someone had tried that and seemingly only learned the younger the child she took the easier it was to shape them into obedient tools.

He smothered guilt over his own thoughts; he knew Elijah wasn’t as well behaved as he pretended but he was almost as sure that Elijah's attempts to break the deal or kill Dahlia was mostly to free him and Freya.

The time he had found Elijah setting up an entire collection of old vampires and their coven to go against Dahlia while offering himself as a prize came to mind.

“Elijah.” Freya reacted first, throwing herself from the couch to hug Elijah, Finn followed,

“Sister, Brother.” he called back, slightly muffled by how tight they were hugging him, Finn narrowed his eyes as he noticed how tightly Elijah was holding them back.

“You know?” he asked, speaking more into his brother’s hair than to him, hade Elijah learned about Hope, was it from their link to Dahlai or had-

“You’ve seen her.” Freya finished his though aloud as they finally let go of each other, Elijah looked uncomfortable as stepped back before telling them.

“Not in person, she used Kenning on the guy i was-”

They both cut him off with a hiss, Finn smothered his rage, Dahlia had killed Freya’s Mathias, and this wasn’t the first time she had used Kenning to take over whatever man Elijah had taken to bed as a distraction, all the more reason Finn had begged Sage to stay away until after they had dealt with her. 

“Yeah it wasn’t great.” Elijah finished as he looked away, taking in the collection of the temporary dead siblings.

“Why the entrance?” Freyas asked, suddenly looking concerned, no doubt hoping a full introduction could help calm some of the tension, Klaus had been asking for more details on Elijah since he had managed to get Finn to explain his scars. Kol had mentioned meeting him once but hadn’t been able to tell Finn anymore, than one of the covens of New Orleans a century ago had asked Kol for help removing a foreign witch they believed was seducing their young witches into the darker arts.

Finn couldn’t argue against it as both he and Freya had found Elijah doing similar things when he wasn’t taking part in fighting pits and underground fighting rings. 

“The less people know I'm here the better.” was the excuse, which Finn had to agree it was bad enough they were working with their siblings which Dahlia knew but at least one visit to speak to just them could be blamed on Elijah trying to talk them down, to get them back.

To keep the peace as he had always done, Dahlia wouldn’t think to much of it, as much as he hated it he was thankful if it gave him a last chance to see his brother.

“Elijah-” he started,

“You're not going to reconsider.” Finn tried not to hear the pleading his Elijah’s voice, but found himself unable to respond.

“We won’t.” Freya told him reaching out with a hand to grab his.

“She’s going to kill you both.” Elijah suddenly snarled, making them flinch at the sudden change, before Elijah took a breath and swallowed the rage and panic he had let out for a minute. 

Finn shared a look with Freya, they both hated how much Elijah refused to let himself feel. It was all the more reason that had to do this, to save Hope from being raised to be the same, to give Elijah a future to learn where he can be open with himself.

“We have to do this.” Finn echoed Freya, setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I know” Elijah sighed seemingly defeated, Finn disliked the look on his brother and the fact they had put it there but he was still hit with a sinking thought.

“Don’t do anything reckless.” he told him desperately hoping this wasn’t going to be their last words but needing his little brother to remember them if they were if the worst happened and he was left alone with Dahlia.

Elijah smiled at him widely but the the amusement never reached his eyes.

“Like openly working against Dahlia?” he asked, before turning and walking away, “Never.” he called back.

They both ignored the shake in his voice, by the time their siblings revived, Elijah was gone and he and Freya sat on the couch holding each other at the thought of that being the last time they saw their little brother.

This had to work, they weren’t going to leave him behind with her.

—--

Elijah grasped the pendent, feeling the flickering soul within it, and swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Neither of them had noticed him switch the pendants, part of the reason he had made sure the vampires were out of commission.

“Come along mother, time to fix your mistake.” he told the soul, soon he’d bring her back, get to see the parent that had caused their pain and finally free his siblings from the chains of Dahlia and burden of himself.

It may be reckless but he had been planning it for years, centuries of other witches working in his memory and he had never been open with his work against their aunt.

This had to work, he was going to free them of their pain, and take her with him.

[sluggybunny]

Ok, new round of questions >:D Saturn: 30,36 Rose: 14,37 Yazmin: 31,45 Kalatran: 16, 19

YAY Thank u

🪐Saturn

[30] What are their most healthy and most unhealthy coping mechanisms?

Healthiest: The good ol self care routine. Baths, taking care of her apperence. Maybe a spa day. That kind of stuff.

Worst: Could be either the constant, non stop, lying. Or it could be the emotional numbing. Could also be the "cut your loses and push everyone around you away" thing. They're all up there for being THE thing ruining her life. I would probably go with the self isolation.

[36] Do they own items that have sentimental value?

She has exactly ONE item. It is a very cute dragon plushie she had as a child. That's the only item she keeps with her, ever, as she never stays in one place for long and will get rid/destroy of anything that could be tracked back to her. Yk. Normal behavior. Saturn herself isn't sure why she keeps this thing with her.

🌹Rose

[14] What does it take to make them laugh, and what does their laugh sound like?

Rose is one of those people who never seem to full on laugh, maybe at most a chuckle. But sometimes the oddest thing will get a laugh out of her, most often a funny comment or joke that's made in passing. Her laugh is very soft, light and feels like a soft blanket.

[37] How would they spend a lazy day when they have nothing specific to do?

These kinds of days stress Rose out so much... Not doing anything, wasting time, is the WORST. She would be dedicated to finding something to do. "Relax" is not in her vocabulary.

🔮Yazmyn

[31] How hard it is for them to own up to their mistakes and wrongdoings?

Yazmyn never has any issues with admitting fault or mistakes. But she's always rather flippant about it. Especially if it's something she intentionally did, she'll admit that scamming you was pretty mean... but eh? Should she care?

[45] For an event, would they dress like they typically do, or go all out?

She goes ALL out but in the worst ways. Or the best ways, depending on your tastes. She thinks More = Better and she loves to collect lots and lots of shiny things and fancy fabrics and silks. All of her outfits are made by herself, so she'll take this as an opportunity to flaunt her highly esteemed tastes. By blinding everyone with colors and sparkles.

🩸Kalatran

I am so excited to talk about this bastard LOL

[16] Do they easily rely on others to help them out, or prefer doing everything themselves?

Kalatran is very independent. And Paranoid. He only seeks the help of others if he absolutely must and he uses them as tools that he will later discard of. There is very little he can't do (That's what he thinks at least) and he'll delegate menial work to his lessers... that might also include navigating the web browser as well.

[19] If they could change one thing about their past, what would they change?

The rampant sex parties he threw back then really came to bite him in the ass when he found he could still, in fact, sire children. Child support is annoying. At the very least, he'd use protection.