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kckt88 · 2 months ago

Text

Stake My Claim.

Summary:

Aemond knows his older brother lusts after his wife, so he decides to show Aegon what he will never have.

Warning(s): Angst, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviour, Dark Aemond, Uncle/Niece Incest, Begging, Smut, Kissing, Oral Sex, Fingering, P in V, Mutliple Orgasms, Multiple Positions, Squirting, Spit Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight Dom/Sub Aemond, Forced Voyeurism, Threat Of Murder.

AEMOND x O.C NIECE

Word Count: 8972

FILTHY/BASICALLY PORN WITH A SPRINKLE OF PLOT!

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, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Prince Aemond Targaryen stood in the grand hall of the Red Keep, his violet eye sharp and brooding as he observed his older brother, Aegon.

The grand hall was filled with courtiers and lords, but Aemond’s attention was focused solely on one thing — the way Aegon’s gaze lingered far too long on his wife Vaelynn.

Aemond’s fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword, his jaw tightening as he watched Aegon, who was supposed to be speaking with one of the bannermen, glance surreptitiously in Vaelynn's direction.

It boiled Aemond’s blood. Aegon had his own wife, Helaena, yet he was letting his gaze drift hungrily toward Vaelynn as it often did.

It was as though Aegon saw everything in the world as his for the taking, as though he had some divine right to whatever he desired, including what belonged to Aemond.

He felt a surge of possessiveness, hot and fierce, rise within him.

Vaelynn was Aemond's — his wife, his partner. Originally their union had been one of family politics, and a desperate attempt to prevent the Targaryen bloodline from splintering into civil war.

It had been his father's final command, a last, dying plea for peace before Viserys had taken his final breath. Queen Rhaenyra, after dispatching those who conspired against her ascent had honoured her father's will and married her eldest daughter to Aemond.

A marriage that had finally united the two warring sides.

But Aemond’s devotion to his wife went far beyond a mere duty to his father’s wishes. Vaelynn was more than just a symbol of peace or a political pawn.

She was his wife, his future Queen, his precious jewel. Her long silver hair shimmered in the light of the torches, her Targaryen features regal and fierce, and every time Aemond looked at her, he was reminded that for once, he had something Aegon did not.

The thought of it thrilled him. Aegon, the first son from their father’s second marriage, had the ease of a life that required no true effort. Aegon, who had never needed to fight for anything.

Aegon, who had never known the pain of loss the way Aemond had when he'd claimed Vhagar and lost an eye in the process. Aegon, who still had the audacity to cast those lecherous glances at Vaelynn, as though he had any right to her.

Aemond’s eye darkened as he watched Aegon sip wine from his goblet, his lips curling into a lazy smirk as his gaze flickered yet again toward Vaelynn.

The possessiveness inside Aemond coiled tighter. He had trained with the sword, studied history and philosophy, and sacrificed his eye to gain his dragon.

But Vaelynn? He would not share her, not with anyone. Least of all with Aegon.

He stood straighter, squaring his shoulders as his gaze flicked to his wife. Vaelynn, graceful and poised, was speaking with a noble woman oblivious to the attention she was drawing from Aegon.

But Aemond saw it. He saw everything. And as his eye shifted back to Aegon, a small, dangerous smile curled on his lips.

The idea came to Aemond like a sudden spark of wildfire in his mind—filthy, depraved, but burning with a savage clarity that made his heart race.

He stood, still as stone, the sounds of the bustling court fading into the background as his thoughts darkened. The more he watched Aegon’s gaze track Vaelynn’s every movement, the more he fed that flame.

Aegon, who had always believed everything was his. Aegon, who likely thought that, with a few charming words and a lecherous smile, he could steal Vaelynn's affection. Aegon, who needed to be reminded—no, taught—a lesson. She belongs to me.

The thought festered inside him, twisting his possessiveness into something more potent, more vicious.

Aemond wanted Aegon to know exactly who Vaelynn belonged to, wanted him to feel the crushing weight of desire and envy as he watched her give herself to someone else—to Aemond. Her husband. Her lover. The one man who could claim her in ways Aegon could only dream of.

The wicked idea solidified; his mind drawn deeper into its shadows. He would make Aegon watch. It was brutal, vile, and the thrill of it surged through him like dragon fire.

He imagined it now, the moment clear as if it were unfolding before him—the two of them, Vaelynn and Aemond, wrapped in the heat of their bedchamber. He would touch her, undress her, claim her with a fervour that left no doubt of his dominion over her.

He would make sure Aegon could see it all—the soft, intimate whispers, the way Vaelynn would arch under his touch, the way she would moan his name as he fucked her. Not Aegon’s. Never Aegon’s.

Aemond’s lips twitched into a dark smile as he imagined the shock, the rage, the helpless hunger on Aegon’s face, forced to bear witness to what he could never have. He would see Vaelynn’s devotion, her loyalty, her desire—all directed at Aemond.

Aegon’s lustful glances, his smug arrogance, would be met with the bitter truth: Vaelynn was Aemond’s wife, bound to him by the law of gods and men, by their bodies entwined in the deepest of intimacies.

Aegon would learn, in the cruellest way, that some things—the most precious things—were beyond his reach.

The thought of it fuelled Aemond’s jealousy and his hunger, both fierce and untameable. Aegon would watch and suffer.

He would see with his own eyes the very thing he coveted most, knowing he could never touch it, never have it, never know the closeness that Aemond shared with her.

Aemond’s pulse quickened. He could already imagine how Vaelynn would react. She was no fool; she understood the tension between the brothers, though she had always carried herself with grace, with a quiet loyalty that was never in question.

And while Aemond had never spoken his suspicions about Aegon’s lecherous stares to her, he knew she was aware of the way her uncle lingered a little too long in her presence.

And so, when the time came, he would make sure Vaelynn knew what he intended. He would guide her through it, speaking to her in that commanding, silken tone that always stirred a reaction from her. And Aegon? Aegon would be forced to sit and watch, powerless, as Aemond claimed what was his.

The very thought was intoxicating. Aegon had always been handed the world without lifting a finger, always had what Aemond had worked so hard to achieve. But not this. Not Vaelynn.

Aemond would ensure that this one thing—his wife, his love, his life—would never be his brother’s, not in any way.

And Aegon would suffer for it.

Aemond moved across the hall with a quiet, purposeful grace, his singular violet eye locked onto Vaelynn. She was standing by the hearth, still speaking softly with one of the noblewomen.

The sight of her, regal and poised in her red and black gown, her long, platinum hair cascading down her back, made his chest tighten. She was so beautiful it hurt, and the more he watched, the more his need for her grew, sharp and insistent.

He reached her side, slipping in behind her with a smoothness that belied the dark thoughts racing through his mind.

His hand, warm and possessive, slid up her arm in a slow, deliberate motion, causing her to shiver beneath his touch. Her skin, soft like silk, prickled with goosebumps as his fingers caressed her, and he could hear her breath catch in her throat.

Bending forward, Aemond let his lips brush the delicate shell of her ear, his voice low, barely a whisper. “You look so beautiful tonight, my love,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “I cannot wait until we can make our excuses and leave this place. I want you. Desperately.”

His words were laced with hunger, with a barely contained desire that made her cheeks flush, her posture shift as she pressed ever so slightly back into him.

He saw the way her lips parted, her breath quickening at the feel of his hand against her, and it thrilled him. She was his. Every part of her.

Aemond’s lips grazed her cheek, a soft kiss that sent a shiver down her spine, and he delighted in her reaction—the way her body responded to him without hesitation, the quiet whisper of his name that left her lips, breathless and needy.

“Aemond-” she whispered, her voice low enough that only he could hear it.

They had been married for six moons now, and though their marriage had started with tentative touches and gentle care—her innocence as a maiden requiring patience—it had not taken long for the fire between them to ignite.

Their nights together had grown wild, untamed, as they allowed themselves to give in to the passion that simmered beneath the surface.

Aemond had learned her body as well as he knew his own—how to make her tremble, how to draw moans from her lips as he devoured her sweet cunny, or how to leave her breathless and begging for him as he sheathed his cock inside her and fucked her into their mattress.

And he never tired of her. His appetite for Vaelynn was insatiable, ravenous.

No matter the time of day, he found himself craving her, stealing moments when they could slip away, taking her in their bed or wherever else they found themselves.

It wasn’t unusual for him to claim her multiple times in a single night, each time more intense than the last. And she gave herself to him completely, their bodies entwined in a way that left no doubt of their mutual desire.

He pressed another kiss to her cheek, slower this time, savouring the way her body softened under his touch. But as he kissed her, his eye drifted across the room, locking onto Aegon.

His brother stood near the dais, a goblet in hand, his lips curled into a faint sneer as his gaze flicked toward them. Aegon’s face betrayed his jealousy, the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darkened with frustration.

Aemond smirked.

Without breaking eye contact with Aegon, he slid his hand to Vaelynn’s chin, tilting her head ever so slightly toward him. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss.

It was tender at first, but there was an underlying heat, a possessiveness that seeped into every movement. He kissed her with intention, with purpose, making sure Aegon could see every moment of it.

When he finally pulled away, Vaelynn’s eyes fluttered open, her cheeks flushed from the kiss, her breath uneven. Aemond’s smirk widened as he looked back at Aegon, whose face had twisted into a seething mask of jealousy.

Let him watch, Aemond thought. Let him burn with desire for what he will never have.

Vaelynn was his, and he would make sure Aegon knew it.

Aemond's grip tightened on Vaelynn’s waist as he whispered against her lips.

“Soon, my love-soon.”

Later that night, after Vaelynn had bid her goodnight to her mother Rhaenyra and her father Daemon, Aemond took her hand with a sense of urgency that made her heart race.

His grip was firm, and the fire in his eye was unmistakable as he led her through the quiet, winding halls of the Red Keep, back to their chambers.

The night air was cool, but the heat between them was undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface.

When they reached the door to their chambers, Aemond paused. He turned to her, his gaze intense, filled with desire.

Before she could speak, he pressed her against the stone wall, his hands moving over her body with a hunger that made her gasp. His lips captured hers in a kiss so passionate it left her breathless, the force of it consuming them both.

She felt his hands roam her curves, caressing her waist, her hips, the press of his body hard and unrelenting against hers.

Aemond’s arousal surged through him, a fierce, insatiable need that had built throughout the evening. Gods, this woman was something else entirely.

Never had Aemond felt so excited. Vaelynn wasn’t just his wife—she was his equal, his match in every way, and the very thought of her, of what they shared, sent waves of desire crashing through him.

When he finally pulled away, his breath ragged, he rested his forehead against hers. They stood there, panting in the dim corridor, the space between them crackling with unspoken intensity.

“I have a plan,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. His fingers brushed her cheek, tender despite the raw desire coursing through him. “I want Aegon to watch.”

Vaelynn’s breath caught, her body still humming from the kiss. She looked up at him, confused at first, but she didn’t speak. Aemond continued, his tone low and dark, as he traced the line of her jaw with his thumb.

“I want to show him that you belong to me, that you’re mine and mine alone. He thinks he can stare at you, desire you, but he will never have you. I want him to see it, Vaelynn,” he whispered, the possessiveness in his words unmistakable. “I want him to watch as I take you to bed, to see what he can never have. He needs to know.”

As he spoke, Vaelynn remained silent, her eyes wide but unreadable. For a brief moment, fear flickered inside Aemond’s chest.

Had he gone too far? Had his twisted desire to show his dominance over Aegon horrified her? He was prepared for her to push him away, for her to recoil at his suggestion, to tell him that this need, this dark urge, was too much.

But then, she surprised him.

Vaelynn surged forward, her lips crashing into his with a ferocity that caught him off guard. The kiss was wild, primal, filled with a heat that burned hotter than any flame.

She kissed him as if she could devour him, her hands pulling him closer, her body pressing against his with an intensity that left him breathless.

When she finally pulled away, her cheeks flushed and her breathing heavy, her eyes locked onto his, gleaming with the same fierce hunger he felt.

“I understand,” she whispered, her voice low, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “I understand why you need this, Aemond. And I want it too.” Her words sent a flare of arousal through his body, her breath hot against his skin. “I want to show him that I belong to you. I want him to see what he can never have.”

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest. They truly were a match made in heaven, each feeding off the other’s desire, each willing to push the boundaries to claim what was theirs.

His possessiveness was met with her fiery loyalty, and he had never felt so connected to anyone in his life. She understood him—his demand to be in control, his hunger for dominance, his need to be loved—and she shared it.

Vaelynn’s lips curved into a smirk, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “But how, Aemond? How do you plan to get Aegon to our chambers?”

Aemond’s own smirk deepened as he stepped back, his hand reaching for the door.

Vaelynn’s brow furrowed in confusion as she stepped into their chambers, the door creaking open.

The room was dimly lit by the flickering glow of candlelight, casting long shadows across the floor. Her breath hitched when her eyes fell on the chair facing their bed.

Aegon sat bound to it, his arms tied to the wooden frame with thick rope, his face twisted in a mix of anger and frustration. His mouth opened in a snarl as he saw them, his eyes wild with disbelief.

“Let me go, Aemond!” Aegon barked, his voice filled with rage as he struggled against the restraints. “This is madness!”

But Aemond only smiled, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him with a heavy click of the lock.

“No, brother,” he said, his voice calm and dark as he moved closer to Vaelynn, his hand resting possessively on her waist.

Vaelynn’s eyes met Aegon’s, and she could see the mix of desire and fury in his gaze.

But all she felt was excitement, her body pulsing with the same hunger Aemond had stirred in her earlier.

She looked back at her husband, her heart pounding, and whispered, “Show him.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile as he turned her toward the bed. "With pleasure."

Aemond’s grip tightened around Vaelynn’s waist as he guided her toward the bed, positioning her directly in front of Aegon.

The soft flicker of candlelight cast shadows along her figure, making her pale skin glow in the dim room. Aemond’s eye never left his brother, his gaze sharp and filled with cruel satisfaction as he reached for the delicate laces of Vaelynn’s gown, his fingers working methodically to undo each knot.

Aegon, bound to the chair, turned his gaze to the floor, his jaw clenched, refusing to look. The tension in the room was thick, a palpable mixture of desire, jealousy, and anger.

Aemond noticed his brother’s reluctance and snarled, his voice cold and commanding.

“You’ve had no problem gazing upon my wife before,” Aemond said, his tone laced with venom as his fingers slipped the final lace free, the gown hanging loosely from Vaelynn’s shoulders. “So, you will watch now.”

Aegon hesitated, his body still for a moment, the weight of Aemond’s words sinking in. Slowly, reluctantly, his eyes lifted, dark and stormy, settling on Vaelynn.

Aemond smirked in satisfaction, feeling the power of his control over his older brother. With a gentle tug, the silken material of Vaelynn’s gown slid off her shoulders, falling in a soft pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a sheer shift that clung to the curves of her body.

Aegon bit his lip, hard, as his eyes betrayed him, taking in the sight of her. The translucent fabric left little to the imagination—the curve of her breasts, the soft swell of her hips, the slender lines of her waist.

She was breathtaking, every inch of her a testament to the beauty of their Valyrian blood. Aegon’s chest rose and fell, his breathing uneven as he fought to control the surge of arousal that rushed through him.

A barely audible groan slipped past his lips as he stared at her, helpless to look away.

Aemond’s lips curled into a smile as he stood behind Vaelynn, his hands sliding up her sides, possessive and deliberate. He leaned in close to her ear, his voice soft, but loud enough for Aegon to hear every word.

“Isn’t she beautiful, brother?”

Aegon remained silent, his jaw clenched, struggling to maintain some semblance of control as he watched Vaelynn’s bare form through the thin shift. His eyes flickered, a brief spark of rebellion in them, but Aemond wasn’t having it. His patience wore thin, his fingers gripping Vaelynn’s waist a little tighter as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“I asked you a question,” Aemond growled, his eye blazing with anger as he met Aegon’s defiant stare. “Isn’t. She. Beautiful?”

Aegon swallowed hard, his pride battling against the situation he found himself in. Finally, his voice, rough and barely more than a strained whisper, broke the silence.

“Yes,” he muttered, his eyes flicking briefly to Aemond before falling back to Vaelynn. “She’s beautiful.”

Aemond’s smile returned, smug and triumphant, as he ran his hands over Vaelynn’s body, slowly peeling the sheer shift away from her, leaving her completely bare.

The cool air kissed her skin, but it was Aemond’s touch that made her shiver. He stood back, admiring her for a moment, before his gaze flicked once again to Aegon.

“Good,” Aemond murmured, his voice dangerously calm. “I want you to remember this, brother.”

Without taking his eyes off Aegon, Aemond reached down and undid the belt that held his sword and dagger, letting it fall to the floor with a loud clang.

As the weapons hit the stone floor, Aemond’s hands moved to the rest of his clothes, removing them one by one with deliberate slowness, savouring the moment. His tunic fell to the floor first, followed by his trousers and small clothes, leaving him just as bare as Vaelynn.

His body, lean and strong, was a testament to the hours he spent training, every scar a reminder of his victories.

He stood tall, his presence commanding, as he turned to Vaelynn, his gaze softening when it landed on her.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, the tension between them electric. Aemond’s lips quirked into a small, possessive smile as he cupped her chin, tilting her face up toward him.

“This-” he whispered, his voice low and intimate, “-is what he will never have.”

And with that, Aemond kissed her, slow and deep, his hand tangling in her hair as he claimed her in front of his brother.

It was a kiss filled with all the passion, possession, and love that had been building since the moment they wed, a reminder of who she belonged to, now and forever.

Aemond circled Vaelynn slowly, his steps measured and deliberate, his eye tracing every curve of her bare body like a predator stalking its prey.

There was an intensity in the way he moved, his gaze devouring her from every angle as if he were committing every inch of her to memory. His breath was heavy with arousal,

Aemond’s gaze darkened with satisfaction, his eye flickering between Vaelynn and Aegon. The sight of his brother, bound and helpless, his face twisted in frustration and arousal, was everything Aemond had hoped for.

It fuelled the possessive fire burning within him, and he was eager to remind Aegon just how much power he held.

With a commanding presence, he stepped back from Vaelynn, his voice low and authoritative as he spoke.

"Kneel" he ordered, his words cutting through the thick air of the room.

Without hesitation, Vaelynn obeyed. She sank gracefully to her knees, her eyes never leaving Aemond's as she positioned herself in front of him, her posture submissive yet confident, entirely at his mercy.

The trust between them was palpable, a silent understanding that neither needed to voice.

Aegon whimpered from his chair, his restraint becoming more unbearable with each passing moment. He struggled against the ropes binding his arms, his face contorting with a mix of desperation and desire.

The sight of Vaelynn kneeling, so willing and obedient to Aemond’s command, only added to his frustration. A low groan escaped his lips, but he was powerless to look away, no matter how much he wanted to.

Aemond’s lips curved into a smug smirk, his eye gleaming with satisfaction as he watched his brother squirm.

Slowly, he reached down and caressed Vaelynn’s cheek, his touch gentle and reverent despite the raw desire simmering beneath the surface.

His thumb brushed over her soft skin, tracing the line of her jaw before he brought it to her plump lower lip, pressing against it with a possessive tenderness.

“Open your mouth,” he murmured, his tone commanding yet intimate, a whisper meant only for her.

Vaelynn, always eager to please him, parted her lips without hesitation, her breath warm against his thumb as she obeyed his command.

Aemond smirked and then spat into her mouth.

“Swallow” he ordered.

Vaelynn closed her mouth and smiled as she swallowed.

Aegon’s strained breaths filled the room, his frustration palpable as he watched, his eyes wide and dark with envy.

He bit his lip hard, trying to stifle the sounds of his helpless arousal, but it was clear that the sight of Vaelynn submitting so completely to Aemond was almost too much for him to bear.

Every twitch of his muscles, every laboured breath, was a testament to the agony of witnessing something he would never experience for himself.

Aemond’s smirk grew as he glanced back at Aegon, watching his brother's pitiful struggle. "You see, brother," Aemond purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction, "She belongs to me-and you will watch."

Aemond extended his hand to Vaelynn, his grip firm yet gentle as he helped her to stand. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt the pull of his intensity in every movement, in every glance.

He guided her to the bed, his eye never leaving her, a predator ensuring that his prize remained within reach.

Vaelynn sat gracefully on the edge of the bed, her bare form glowing in the candlelight, a vision of ethereal beauty.

She stole a glance at Aegon, bound and seething in the chair across the room, his cheeks flushed a deep pink, his gaze locked helplessly on her body.

Despite himself, Aegon couldn't tear his eyes away, watching her with a mixture of shame and longing. The sight only fuelled the dark satisfaction building inside Aemond.

Vaelynn's attention returned to Aemond, her hands slowly moving up his lean body, fingers tracing the contours of his muscles with delicate but purposeful intent.

She felt the tremble in his body as her nails scraped lightly across his skin, and he groaned low in his throat, the sound primal, raw with desire.

Her touch held him captive, and as her hands continued their slow, torturous path, she whispered to him, her voice soft but commanding. “Take off your eyepatch, I wish to gaze upon your beauty in its entirety”

Aemond hesitated for only a moment, his lips parting in a quiet whimper, the sound so rare for him, so vulnerable.

She knew what her words, her praise, did to him—how they disarmed him in ways no one else could.

His heart raced in his chest, and the possessiveness in him faltered for just a second, replaced by something deeper, more intimate.

Without a word, Aemond reached up and pulled the eyepatch from his face, the black leather slipping from his fingers to fall carelessly to the floor.

He stood before her, exposed in a way few had ever seen him, the sapphire in place of his left eye glinting coldly in the dim light. It was a mark of his strength, his pain, his triumph—a reminder of what he had lost and what he had gained in return.

Vaelynn gazed up at him, a soft smile curving her lips as her eyes traced over his face.

The sapphire, so stark and striking, only added to the beauty that was uniquely his. He stood before her, raw and powerful, and her heart swelled with affection and desire.

“Ñuha gevie zaldrīzes” whispered Vaelynn, her voice laced with adoration (My beautiful dragon).

Aemond’s breath hitched at her words, his body responding to the warmth of her gaze and the tenderness in her voice. She saw all of him—the scars, the vulnerabilities—and still, she called him beautiful.

It was a power she wielded over him that no one else could ever claim. His hands trembled slightly as they came to rest on her shoulders, his thumb tracing soft circles on her skin as he gazed down at her with something that went beyond possession.

Vaelynn leaned forward and pressed a series of tender kisses to his bare stomach, her lips brushing against his pale skin.

Aemond closed his eye and let out a low groan as he felt her teeth grazing against him.

Aegon’s gaze was transfixed, no longer able to look away as Vaelynn leaned forward, her bare form moving with graceful, deliberate intent.

She pressed her soft lips to Aemond’s stomach, her touch feather-light, trailing kisses along the ridges of his taut muscles. Each kiss sent a ripple of pleasure through Aemond, his body responding to her affection with a barely contained hunger.

Aegon’s insides twisted in a storm of jealousy and desire, watching helplessly from his bound position as his younger brother stood in a state of near reverence before Vaelynn.

Aemond’s hands instinctively moved to her hair, his fingers weaving through the silver strands as he tilted his head back, his chest rising and falling with laboured breaths.

His voice, deep and rough with need, cut through the silence like a blade, the words slipping from his lips in their mother tongue, soft and intimate.

“kostilus, ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” he rasped, his voice a low growl, urging her on with each kiss. (Please, my beautiful wife).

Aegon’s jaw clenched at the sound of Aemond’s voice, rasping and raw with devotion for Vaelynn. There was something different in it—a passion that Aegon had never heard before.

The language of Old Valyria, spoken between them with such intimacy, felt like a knife twisting in Aegon’s gut. It was as if he were not only excluded from the moment but from a bond that ran deeper than flesh—a connection forged in fire and blood, something he could never possess.

As Vaelynn continued her trail of kisses, Aemond’s grip on her hair tightened, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His eye was half-lidded, his focus entirely on the woman before him.

Then Vaelynn moved back to lay on the bed, her bare body on display, as she reached out for Aemond and pulled him on the bed with her.

“Let me show Aegon how I take care of you” muttered Vaelynn as she placed kisses along Aemond’s sharp jaw and then down his neck, making sure to gently nip and suck his skin as she went.

She carried on moving down, pausing as she reached his chest, she grinned as she looked up at Aegon before taking one of Aemond’s nipples into her mouth, her tongue teasing it before she bit down gently.

“FUCK” moaned Aemond.

“Does ñuha dārys like that?” asked Vaelynn as she moved across and gave his other nipple the same attention, (My King).

“Oh. Gods” whimpered Aemond as she moved further down his body, her tongue and teeth grazing his pale skin.

Aemond’s gaze moved to Aegon who was watching intently.

Aegon’s body tensed, his heart racing as the jealousy burned hotter, more potent with each passing moment. His gaze flicked between the two of them, torn between wanting to look away and the torturous need to watch.

When Vaelynn reached the trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock, she pressed her nose against him and giggled when she felt the hair tickle her skin.

“Kostilus ñuha jorrāelagon” begged Aemond (Please my love).

“Ao līs umbagon ñuha zaldrīzes” replied Vaelynn (You must wait, my dragon).

Aemond stared down at his naughty wife, his mouth hanging open as Vaelynn’s warm, wet mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.

Her tongue gently moving around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Vaelynn” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Vaelynn ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Vaelynn moved and engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth again, he squeezed his eye shut.

But Aemond forced himself to open his eye, he needed to watch as his wife sucked his cock.

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push the limits of his control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Vaelynn’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her perfect pink lips stretched around him.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted.

Vaelynn smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth.

Then she moved her other hand over his stones, caressing them before she slid one of her fingers towards his hole.

“F-Fuck” moaned Aemond as she gently massaged over the tight ring of muscle.

“Do you like that ñuha raqiarzy?” asked Vaelynn (My beloved).

“Y-Yes” exclaimed Aemond.

“What about this?” asked Vaelynn as she put a finger into her mouth and then returned it to his hole before she gently slid the tip of her finger in.

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

“More?”

“Y-Yes. P-Please. M-More” groaned Aemond.

Vaelynn responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her finger slowly moved inside him.

“Another-p-put another inside me” begged Aemond his body rocking against her.

Vaelynn smiled and gently added another and Aemond began to whimper as she curled her fingers inside him.

Aegon’s fingers clawed at the wooden arms of the chair, his nails digging into the grain as if he could tear himself free by sheer force of will.

Watching them—watching Vaelynn touch Aemond so intimately and seeing the way his brother unravelled under her hands—was pure agony.

Aegon bit his lip hard, hard enough to draw blood, the coppery taste filling his mouth as he tried to stifle the sound that threatened to escape him.

“Shit-Vaelynn I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

Not hearing Aegon’s moaned gasp of “Fuck”

His wife took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

Aegon whimpered slightly at the sound of his brother’s climax, the sound of his voice—so vulnerable, so exposed—made something tighten in Aegon’s chest.

He had never seen Aemond like this, never imagined that his unyielding brother could be reduced to such a state, trembling and begging at the hands of a woman. And yet, here he was, utterly undone by her.

When Aemond recovered, he saw Vaelynn’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Vaelynn.

“Y-Yes. Now get up here and ride my face until I’m ready again” gasped Aemond as Y.N removed her fingers from him and wiped them on the sheets.

“Are you sure” asked Vaelynn

“Sit on my fucking face” ordered Aemond, ignoring his brother’s small whimper.

Vaelynn hovered above Aemond’s face; her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Vaelynn’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Vaelynn her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it ñuha dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Vaelynn.

“FUCK” growled Aemond.

Aegon’s breath came in shallow gasps, his heart pounding furiously in his chest as the sight of Vaelynn rolling her hips as his brother devoured her, he was painfully aroused, his body aching with desire.

His mouth was dry, his throat tight, and despite his best efforts, tears of frustration welled in his eyes, blurring his vision.

He blinked rapidly, trying to force them back, but the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming.

“Ooooh A-Aemond” shrieked Vaelynn.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Vaelynn, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Vaelynn "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh" whimpered Vaelynn; her chest heaving as she began to gently roll her hips against him.

“That’s it baby, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, his cock was so hard that it was boarding on painful.

Vaelynn was giving off a slew of whispered swear words, moans, and pleas.

Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat, then he grasped her thigh with his other hand and rolled her onto the bed, her back colliding with the soft mattress with a dull thud.

“Ohhh Aemond” whined Vaelynn at the sudden movement.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.

Finally, he felt Vaelynn’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Vaelynn’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife’s centre as she squirted all over his face.

Aegon’s eyes widened, his pulse quickening as realization dawned on him. Gods, no-did she really just squirt?

He had heard about it before, whispered in courtly gossip and salacious tales shared over wine, but never had he witnessed it himself. He had always imagined, fantasized, but no woman had ever done this for him.

The sight was overwhelming, mesmerizing in its erotic intensity. Aegon’s chest tightened, his arousal spiking to an almost painful level.

A low groan escaped his throat before he could stop it and he felt his cock throb as he spilled his seed.

The look of pure, tortured desire on Aegon’s face did not escape Aemond.

"Did you just spill in your breeches?" Aemond drawled, his voice low.

The words hit Aegon like a blow, and his entire body tensed, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red. He tried to avert his gaze, his lips parting as if to protest, but no words came out.

Aemond’s smirk deepened, his eye glittering with dark amusement as he watched his brother’s reaction.

"-I thought so." Aemond mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Aegon’s humiliation was written all over his face. He could feel the sticky warmth in his breeches, the evidence of his disgrace.

His stomach twisted with shame as he realized he had been so consumed by the sight of Vaelynn and Aemond that he had lost control of himself entirely.

“Hmm” muttered Aemond as he returned his attention to Vaelynn and pressed a series of kisses to her inner thighs, his teeth nipping at her skin.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Vaelynn.

Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth savouring the delicious taste of his wife.

Aemond moved up Vaelynn’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.

“Oh-yes“ gasped Vaelynn, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

“Issa jorrāelagon-Issa glaeson-ñuhon” growled Aemond as he seized his wife’s lips in a ferocious kiss, his hard cock throbbing against her thigh (My love-my life-mine).

Aemond wrapped a hand around his cock and slowly ran it over Vaelynn’s wet entrance, she began squirming impatiently against him as he continued to tease her.

“P-Please, I want you” exclaimed Vaelynn desperately.

“Hmm” rasped Aemond as he slid inside her with a singular thrust. His hips coming to a stop against hers.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

"Faster, Aemond" begged Vaelynn.

"Patience, ñuha dōna" chided Aemond as he ran his nose up his wife’s neck (My sweet).

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Vaelynn.

Her hands ran over his arms, over his shoulders. Her fingernails raking down his back.

“Fucking mark me harder-“ growled Aemond.

Vaelynn dug her nails into his skin and clawed at his back deep enough to draw blood.

Aegon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still reeling from the humiliation of Aemond’s mocking words, but he couldn’t stop the stirring deep inside him as Vaelynn and Aemond began again.

The fire between them was unmistakable, an unrestrained passion that filled the room with heat and tension so thick it was almost suffocating. He watched, helpless, as they moved together in a rhythm that was both primal and intimate, their bodies completely in sync.

“Gods-" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly, revelling in the pain.

"Fuck me, Aemond. Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me”.

Aemond groaned loudly, knew exactly what his wife was doing, but he couldn’t help himself. She wanted faster, he was going much faster now.

His pace had increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips. Now he was quickly thrusting in and out, shaking the bed, the headboard banging loudly against the wall.

Aemond lifted Vaelynn’s legs onto his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her thighs, squeezing them together as he thrust his cock into her soaking wet cunny.

His wife folded her arms above her head as she moved her hips, meeting Aemond thrust for thrust.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaelynn.

“That’s it baby-come for me” exclaimed Aemond as he felt her clenching on his cock.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen, but he didn’t want to come. Not yet.

Not even waiting for her orgasm to fully subside, Aemond moved Vaelynn’s legs off his shoulders and quickly manoeuvred her onto all fours, she whimpered as his cock slipped out, but he bent forward to press a series of kisses to her glorious arse, his large hands kneading the soft pale flesh, before he sunk his teeth into her.

“AEMOND” squealed Vaelynn.

“Hmmm”

“P-Please Aemond” whispered Vaelynn, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the mattress.

Aemond stuck his finger in his mouth before he ran it over her puckered hole.

“Is this alight?” breathed Aemond.

“Y-Yes. Put it inside me. I can take it” whimpered Vaelynn.

“Tell me-Tell me if it’s too much” replied Aemond as he slowly pressed his finger inside her.

“Ooh Aemond, yes. Please. More” babbled Vaelynn as he moved his finger in and out before adding a second.

“Your doing so well-my darling” moaned Aemond as he moved his fingers inside his wife, his other hand slowly stroking his cock.

“I want you-please Aemond”

Aemond moved into position and sheathed himself inside Vaelynn once again, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

“FUCK-” groaned Aemond,

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Vaelynn, his fingers in her arse and his cock deep in her cunt was so good.

Aemond began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts, his fingers moving in rhythm with his cock.

“Harder-more-please ñuha raqiarzy” wailed Vaelynn (My beloved).

“Issa vaogenka hāedar” growled Aemond, his fingers moving faster (My dirty girl).

“Valzȳrys-” whimpered Vaelynn (Husband).

“That’s it-take it-take all of me” muttered Aemond as he removed his fingers, and grabbed hold of Vaelynn’s hips and increased the pace of his thrusts.

Vaelynn took one of Aemonds hands that was on her hip and brought it to the back of her head.

Knowing what his wife wanted, Aemond placed his hand on the back of her head and pushed her face into the mattress, her back arching.

His cock reaching deep inside her as he moved with such ferocity it could rival an animal, his long silver hair unbound and sticking to his sweaty back.

Aemond then grasped both of Vaelynn’s arms and held them behind her back as he pounded into her, the sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed around the room.

Each movement was filled with a raw, unrestrained hunger that Aegon had never witnessed before.

Vaelynn’s cries of pleasure were muffled by the mattress, her face buried in the soft fabric.

Her body arched in response to Aemond’s relentless rhythm, each cry escaping her lips in a series of desperate moans that reverberated through the room.

Aemond’s grip on Vaelynn was fierce, his movements relentless. He drove into her with a force that seemed almost brutal, but Vaelynn took every thrust with an almost frantic eagerness.

Her body trembled under him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered completely to the intensity of their coupling.

“Fuck-that’s it” moaned Aemond.

He released Vaelynn’s arms and then took hold of her long hair, twisting his fingers into the messy braid before he pulled her backwards, her sweaty back colliding with his chest.

Aemond held his wife tight too him as he fucked her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

One hand grasped her hip, his blunt fingers digging into her flesh. Whilst his other released her hair and moved to her throat, squeezing gently.

“Give it to me please” pleaded Vaelynn her head lolling back onto Aemond’s shoulder, her arm reaching behind her to tangle in his hair as their lips connected in a messy, passionate kiss.

“Look at her, brother,” rasped Aemond, his voice laced with dark satisfaction and dominance. “See who she belongs to.”

The words were a taunt, a challenge, and Aegon’s heart pounded with a mixture of torment and desire as he heard them. His eyes were locked on Aemond, unable to look away from the intense display of ownership and passion.

Aegon’s moans escaped his lips before he could stifle them, a sound of frustrated longing and tortured arousal. His body ached with the need for release as he watched the scene unfold, every movement of Aemond and Vaelynn driving him further into madness.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen again, as he thrust his cock inside Vaelynn.

“I want you to come on my cock again, but not like this-” muttered Aemond as he once again withdrew from his wife’s wet heat and laid across the bed.

“-Aemond” exclaimed Vaelynn breathlessly.

“Ride me-” replied Aemond as he pulled her on top of him. His hand moving to his cock, rubbing it along her folds before she sunk down and completely engulfed him.

“Ooooh” gasped Vaelynn as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.

Aemond placed his hands on her hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Vaelynn dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“See how well she takes me, brother,” Aemond rasped, his voice dripping with satisfaction and dominance. “She feels divine, wrapped around me, her body made to fit perfectly.”

His words were a taunt, a declaration of his complete claim over Vaelynn.

Aemond’s gaze never wavered from Aegon, the intensity of his stare a clear challenge. “I’m going to get her with child,” he said, his voice filled with a dark promise. “You’ll see her all round and full of me, carrying the future King-my heir, my legacy upon the Iron Throne”

The declaration was meant to wound, to make Aegon feel the full weight of his helplessness. But it was Vaelynn’s response that drove Aegon to the edge of sanity.

Her voice, desperate and breathless, cut through the room. “Yes-yes. I’ll give you a son-please put a babe in me” she pleaded, her words sending a shiver down Aegon’s spine.

Aegon’s breathing became ragged, his body straining against the ropes that bound him, his face flushed with a combination of desire and frustration.

“A-Aemond” moaned Vaelynn as he suddenly sat up, moving his hand to her breast again and taking her nipple into his mouth, his teeth biting down on the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelynn her vision going white as she came around his cock.

Her husband pulled her closer and then rolled her back onto the bed his cock never leaving her warmth as he pounded into her with a series of deep penetrating thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist, trapping his body against hers as he chased his own end.

Aemond’s grip on Vaelynn tightened as he neared his own climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more forceful.

The noises he made were almost otherworldly, a mix of guttural growls and breathless moans.

“I love you-I love you-I love you” groaned Aemond as he exploded.

The sight of Aemond’s utter surrender, the way he tensed and then finally collapsed onto Vaelynn, left Aegon unable to control himself any longer.

His own release came suddenly, a hot, throbbing wave that he could do nothing to stop. He spilled in his breeches once more, the sharp pleasure of his climax mixing with his lingering frustration and shame.

The noise of Aemond’s climax was a final, excruciatingly beautiful sound that Aegon could barely tolerate.

His brother’s ragged breathing, the way he clung to Vaelynn, the sheer force of his release—it all combined into a potent reminder of his own helplessness.

Aemond’s body tensed against Vaelynn’s, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. Then, as his pleasure subsided, he collapsed onto her, his chest heaving as he relaxed against her.

Vaelynn’s body shifted slightly beneath him, her own breath coming in soft, satisfied sighs as she remained still, embracing the weight of her husband.

She looked up at Aemond with a tender, loving gaze, her hands caressing his back as he rested against her, his breathing gradually slowing.

Aegon watched, his body trembling and his mind reeling, as Aemond leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Vaelynn’s lips.

The tenderness of the moment was a stark contrast to the primal intensity that had preceded it. Aemond slowly withdrew from her, the sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light as he moved gracefully off the bed.

His softened cock shining with the combination of Vaelynn's slick and his spend.

Aemond bent down to retrieve his dagger from where it lay on the floor. The metal glinted in the dim light as he unsheathed it.

His gaze, sharp and knowing, flicked toward Aegon, who was still bound to the chair. Aegon’s face was flushed, tears streaking down his cheeks, his breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

The sight was one of raw humiliation, and Aemond’s smirk widened with a mixture of satisfaction and dominance.

With deliberate slowness, Aemond approached his brother. The blade in his hand catching the light as it moved.

He leaned in close, the tip of the dagger brushing against Aegon’s wet crotch.

Aemond’s voice was a low growl, laced with a dangerous edge. “If I ever catch you looking at my wife again, I’ll cut you from cock to throat” he said, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. “Do you understand?”

Aegon nodded quickly, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. The sight of the dagger’s point so close to him, coupled with Aemond’s menacing promise, left him feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Good,” Aemond said, his smirk growing colder. “Now get the fuck out.”

With shaking limbs, Aegon stood up, his movements unsteady as he hurried toward the door, slamming it shut behind him with a force that echoed through the corridor.

Aemond dropped the dagger onto the floor with a casual flick of his wrist. The metal clattered loudly, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. He turned back to the bed, his expression softening as he returned to Vaelynn.

He climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Her body fit perfectly against his, and she sighed contentedly, her voice a soft whisper as she said his name.

“Rest now, my love,” Aemond murmured into her hair, his tone tender and protective.

As Aemond lay wrapped around Vaelynn, his heart still thrumming with the aftermath of their passion, a sense of deep, primal satisfaction settled over him.

The confrontation with Aegon had been brutal, but it was necessary.

The lesson he had imparted to his brother had been harsh, but it was a declaration of his dominance, a claim he needed to establish.

Aemond’s gaze, now soft and contemplative, drifted over to where Aegon had previously been bound. The sight of his brother’s humiliation, the way Aegon had been forced to witness something so deeply personal and intimate, filled Aemond with a grim sense of triumph.

Vaelynn belonged to him, and he had made it unmistakably clear that no other man would ever be allowed to infringe upon that bond.

Aemond’s mind replayed through the events that has transpired—Each moment was a reaffirmation of his claim, a way to mark his territory and ensure that his position was unassailable. The lesson had been as much about asserting his dominance as it had been about protecting what was rightfully his.

He looked down at Vaelynn, her face peaceful as she nestled against him, her breaths slow and steady.

She was his wife, his partner, and the thought of anyone else daring to come between them was unthinkable.

The possessiveness that surged through him was a deep, almost primal need to ensure that she was safe, cherished, and unequivocally his.

Aemond’s lips curved into a satisfied smile as he pressed a gentle kiss to Vaelynn’s forehead. The warmth of her body against his, the sense of completeness he felt in her presence, reinforced his conviction.

The message to Aegon had been clear, and Aemond took a dark pleasure in knowing that his brother had been forced to witness the depth of his commitment and possessiveness.

In the quiet aftermath, Aemond allowed himself a moment of triumph. He had secured his place, solidified his claim, and made it painfully clear that Vaelynn was his and his alone.

The lesson had been harsh, but it was necessary to protect what he valued most.

As he held Vaelynn close, the sense of satisfaction filled him, a reminder of the lengths he would go to ensure that no one could ever challenge his claim.

Perhaps her bastard Strong brother Jacaerys needed teaching the exact same lesson, as his gaze would often linger upon Vaelynn far to long for Aemond's liking and it made his blood boil.

Yes-he would teach him who she belonged too and he would enjoy doing it, for she was his and his alone.

No one would take her from him.

NO ONE.

A.N - Is Aemond bat shit crazy? Let me know your thoughts......

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond targaryen

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 11 months ago

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had some SAGAU thoughts this merry night

there's an old rumor that floats around the circles of the divine, that the Creator god will eventually and inevitably fall to the whims of the Abyss, consumed by the darkness forevermore. it terrifies the Archons and other divine beings to know that the one they worship and adore so much would have to endure such agony, so as all the devoted do, they try to prevent it. every law and order that is passed prepares only for the Creator's arrival, in hopes that the combined power of Teyvat will be able to keep their god safe and sound, sparing no expense to eradicate the Abyss' presence from the above world.

in their madness, they lay their eyes upon the one they worship and declare them- you- a heretic.

it was like a dream come true when you first woke up in Teyvat, the setting of your favorite game, but the dream quickly twisted into a nightmare as you found yourself hunted by every nation, seemingly every person yelling for your head on a platter. an imposter, they called you- a decoy sent by the Abyss- and for that, you deserved execution and death.

and execute you they did, when they inevitably caught you after weeks of running, your blood running a deep red on the pavement, speckled with nearly invisible stars.

when you wake up again, you first only feel pain, pain everywhere, from your head to the tips of your fingers. you want to cry out, but your throat is bone-dry, only faint, raspy coughs coming out. then suddenly you're surrounded by warmth, a pair of arms grasping your broken body gently with a soothing purr. Childe- Foul Legacy- cradles you lovingly, helping you sit up slightly to sip water before settling you back down with a soft croon, the entire Abyss silent and peaceful in your presence. Legacy traces the scar that runs the entire circumference of your neck with one delicate claw, letting out a quiet hiss at the thought of those foolish gods and mortals who hurt you before holding you closer and giving your head a comforting pat.

you smile, weak and faint, at the action, and Legacy rumbles in delight as the Abyss wraps around you; a dark, starry blanket of warmth and peace.

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ddarker-dreams · 9 months ago

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mini love report — chrollo lucilfer

relationship health diagnosis — 70%*

symptom one — perceptive

this man is an information sponge. he notices everything. as a thief, he's accustomed to canvassing his surroundings. he'll have memorized the layout of your home by the second visit. it isn't for any nefarious purpose (probably), he's just always taking in information and cataloging it.

naturally, this sagacity extends to you. the normal cadence of your voice, mannerisms, favored words, and expressions; he'll know if something's bothering you before you realize it yourself. he isn't above using this knowledge of you for his own purposes. he'll gauge your body language and shift his approach to contentious topics. this is a lifelong habit of his that's difficult to break.

chrollo knows what people want to hear and he's used to utilizing that advantage. however, if you point this out, he'll try curbing the behavior. especially if you stress that it's his actual opinion you want to hear, not specially curated platitudes. he finds your desire for a candid approach almost... impressive? you'd rather disagree with his unfiltered thoughts than gloss over anything touchy. it bolsters his respect for you.

symptom two — enigmatic

there's a noticeable difference in what you know about each another. he knows the names of your co-workers, friends, and family members, as well as your hometown, job or school, etc... you can't say the same regarding him. he keeps his origins ambiguous. the way he frames his upbringing makes you feel guilty should you go prying. chrollo will tell you that he's an orphan who had a rough, destitute childhood, but that's about it. he could easily make up a story, but he doesn't like lying to you. he doesn't want the version of him that you love to be a false construct.

yes, there's the technicality of lying by omission. he doesn't get caught up on that detail.

symptom three — a lil lame

interestingly enough, the suave part of his brain starts acting up when he's known you long enough. this isn't to say that he loses his charm, but it stops being his go-to. now he just nerds out (he prefers the term 'discusses') whatever's caught his attention. there's this gleam in his eyes as he tells you about the history of a painting or antique, a childlike awe. he isn't elaborating to impress you with his knowledge, rather, he enjoys sharing his interests. especially since you care, you aren't just humoring him.

chrollo's emotions come out naturally when he's near you. it's subtle — a twitch of his eye if someone cuts you off, a light blush should you murmur his name while asleep. these simple forms of self-expression are foreign to him. he's used to playing roles, not the aftermath once the stage's curtains close. his corporeal form was all the evidence he had that he existed. lacking a sense of self invokes this numb, hollow feeling. you're his new, favorite proof that he's alive. his world's brighter with you in it.

primary area of concern

objectively speaking, chrollo's an ideal lover. he respects, cherishes, and admires you, altercations are rare. should disagreements occur, he never raises his voice or displays aggression. he'll hear you out and apologize should he feel he's in the wrong. he takes you out on dates, stares at you as if you were divinity incarnate whether you're wearing pajamas or a formal outfit. he's whipped and you both know it.

it's his immortality that keeps his score from being higher. he wouldn't ever hurt you, but his compassion for others is nonexistent. this unsightly side of him is hidden from your sight. at the end of the day, he's a murderer who experiences zero remorse for the pain he's inflicted upon others. he leads a double life. you won't ever completely know him.

selfishly, he doesn't want you to.

prognosis

everything hinges on chrollo preventing you from finding out about his illicit activities. luckily for him, subterfuge is his second nature. he rarely stresses about it. he has the manpower and resources necessary to make just about anything happen. if you're a civilian, the chances you'll uncover his identity on your own are next to nonexistent.

your future together is a priority to him — he doesn't take commitment lightly. you're likely the first person he's fallen in love with. if you'd have him, he'd want nothing more than to be your lifelong partner. marriage is a tradition he's never given much credence to. although, after meeting you, he understands the appeal. now it's a matter of finding a ring that matches your radiance...

*the universe has tried (and failed) to wrench you apart (0-20) your friends are praying that you'll break up (21-40) 'well it could/has be worse' bargaining mindset (41-60) a lil messiness as a treat (61-80) pure and wholesome (81-100)

#chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #chrollo brainrot #mini love reports #valentines 2024 event

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magicaldestinyharmony · 2 months ago

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In Life and in Death

male!knight x female!count's daughter!reader part 1

CW: mentions of murder, blood and corpses

A/N: check the end for a full one

[Part 2]

Death. Death is when your lungs stop inflating with oxygen, when your heart slowly comes to a stop and when your vision slowly fades to black. Some people find death scary and a creepy affair. Others welcome death and embrace it, leaving the world with a smile on their face. Some fall in between or have no opinion at all. However, two people have different opinions. If you ask the fifth daughter of Count Balcom, she'll tell you that it's an annoying event and that she wished it would end. If you ask Lucca Puhlavan, a commoner referred to as the Divine Warrior, he'll tell you that he hates it because it takes his loved ones away.

These two souls have similar perceptions of death. This is a story about a woman who is tired of dying and just wants to live and about a man who has sworn to get revenge on the people who robbed him of a peaceful life with his family.

Let the story begin.

You harshly grip the window sill, turning the tips of your fingers white. You shudder at the scene below you. Corpses line the front lawn and blood flows everywhere. You hear screams, yells and pleas for mercy from the occupants of the once-glamorous mansion outside your room. You shake your head at the sight and turn around. Determined, you make your way to the drawers against the wall of your moonlit room. You unlock one and grab the blue stone glimmering in the faint light. It's called the Returner's Stone. You hold it up to admire it. It's a pretty gem. It's round in shape and sparkles with a beautiful blue light. Once consumed, it allows the consumer to travel back in time. It can only be used once. Thud, thud. You freeze at the sound of footsteps sounding in front of your room. So he came. You think. You don't turn around. Even when the chilling creek of the door being opened echoes through the room, even when you hear the tip of a sword drag across the wooden floor even when the shadow of a man falls on you, “Are you the fifth daughter of Count Balcom?” he asks.

You know the question is rhetorical yet you still turn around and answer, “No. I think you have the wrong person.”

The man in front of you scoffs and you take the time to look him over. His navy blue clothes are soaked with blood. His sword hangs from his right hand dripping with the crimson liquid. His black cape falls over his shoulders. His silver hair catches the moonlight making it seem to shine. You pore into the depths of his grey eyes. You shiver at his gaze. It's cold yet empty. You're reminded of the 15-year-old boy your father brought 10 years ago. You were told he was killed. Murdered in one of the hunts, your father liked to organize. You're not sure how he's alive right now. You stop before you can sink more into your thoughts. Stop it! This isn't the time for these thoughts! “Spare me!” You suddenly blurt out.

Lucca (You think that's the name that was mentioned in the newspapers) immediately responds, “No.”

You grimace. There was no hesitation in his voice. You grip the Returner's Stone tighter and ask, “If-if I saved you and prevented that ‘incident’ would you spare me?”

The tall figure in front of you lets his head fall back and laughs, “No. The only way I would spare you is if you drain all of the Balcom blood from your body. Only then would you be spared.”

You flinch at his creepy laugh and cold gaze. Suddenly, Lucca raises his sword, obviously meaning to strike you down. Adrenaline kicks and you shove the sparkling blue Returner's Stone in your mouth and swallow. You suck in a breath at the sudden pain in your chest. Lucca falters and hesitates. Yet before he could swing his sword and complete his revenge you fall to the floor in agony, clutching your chest. The last thing you remember is the black boots of your would-be murderer filling your fading vision.

A/N: this is heavily (and I mean heavily) inspired by the manhwa Even if the Villain’s Daughter Regresses. It’s a good read but the ml is kind of annoying. When I was writing this it kinda felt awkward to switch from 3rd person to 2nd person. Should I keep it in 2nd person or switch to 3rd? Also, should I keep it as an ‘x reader’ or make an oc? What do you guys think? Let me know by dropping a comment!

#yandere oc x reader #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc #knight x reader #yandere male #manhwa x reader #sfw regression #time travel #romance #x reader #yandere #yandere!knight

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spacebarbarianweird · 11 months ago

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Widower Astarion Headcanons

Ok, we wanted pain - I bring you pain. @astarionsbeloved @wickedwitchofthewilds @sleepykitty21 @starlight-ipomoea

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion isn't an idiot; he knows you are mortal, a topic you've discussed before.

Jokingly, he suggested you find a vampire lord, but even if one were found, Astarion would never allow you to turn into a vampire.

"It hurts, it's painful. The existence of a vampire is miserable. I will never do this to you."

The price of mortality is death.

You made him promise not to step into the sunlight and to keep living, carrying memories of you into the future.

You die as you always wanted: in a glorious battle, or safe and comfy in your bed, or brought home by Astarion to a place you grew up in.

You die with no regrets, sorrows, or complaints.

Astarion is numb; all the feelings he learned how to express are gone with your last breath.

He dissociates; it's not him, not now, not real—he is somewhere else.

He hides in the shadows, safe in the darkness and lonely.

Unfortunately, Astarion has never learned how to be alone; you never left him on his own for a long time.

He realizes he can't meditate; there is a mental block preventing him from doing so in your absence.

It's even worse since he can't give himself a break.

Eventually, some friends of yours give him a Potion of Angelic Slumber. He sleeps for a few days in a row, without dreams and nightmares.

When he wakes up, the first thing he does is look for you, and then he realizes you're gone.

In this moment, Astarion breaks down, crying and cursing in Elven and Common.

His back hurts as if there are flesh wounds; the cold grip of darkness holds his undead heart. The tears burn the crimson eyes.

He mourns, grieves, wishes to be dead, but the given promise and the innate desire to survive prevent him from going into the sun.

For the first few years, he lives as a hermit in your shared house, starving himself by not hunting and spending months on your side of the bed without moving at all.

It's not life; it's an existence, miserable and hopeless when he imagines you alive.

A wake-up call is sudden but almost divine.

Deep in his thoughts, he finds himself in his own grave in Baldur's Gate, seeing you six feet above him as young as you were back during the tadpole adventure.

"I didn't get you out of this grave to let you bury yourself. Come on, you promised to me to live! Then, live! This is my last gift."

He wakes up, starving and cold, goes up and leaves for hunting. He hunts for a few days, satiating himself with animal and sentient beings' blood.

As his mind returns to him, Astarion washes and repairs his clothes, brushes his hair, makes himself look decent.

He ravages through your things, collecting them carefully in one place. You wouldn't want a shrine, so he sells the things he won't be able to use anymore.

He puts on your wedding ring (now he has two identical rings) and also a necklace you always liked.

He re-sews one of your gowns into a shirt; now, it feels like you are still with him.

Astarion leaves his first forever home and starts his own journey, taking the role of a sole adventurer - a monster hunter, a protector of the weak. He has always had this heroic side in him, just never admitted.

The most difficult thing is to stay alone; people praise him for saving someone from a monster, but they fear mingling with a vampire.

Sometimes, Astarion cries in his tent, cursing the evil gods for taking the only good thing he ever had.

He constantly talks to himself, imagining you standing beside him.

He actually enjoys these one-sided monologues because he can pretend you are still here.

Years pass, memories of the happy life fade. Astarion joins groups of adventurers here and there but always feels off.

Eventually, he finds the strength to live up to his promise, to enjoy what he has.

He explores places he has never been to, does things he has never done, and hears stories he has never heard.

He makes friends, mostly among long-living creatures. "Oh, my young vampire friend! It's been a while!" A wizard elf greets him with open arms. "I am 400 years older than you, idiot," Astarion chuckles and returns a hug.

Most importantly, he preserves the memory about you, paying bards and storytellers, talking about you at campfires, and putting you as an example of kindness and bravery.

Once, Astarion hears a song, "The One Who Saved Baldur's Gate." The motive and words are nice, but the more he listens to it, the more in shock he is.

This song known to every decent bard in Swords Coast is about you, a distant memory, a long-forgotten story.

He has fulfilled your promise, made sure you live in people's hearts. This day is bittersweet; he cries his eyes out, listening to that song over and over again.

But he feels happy, the first time in years.

With decades to pass, Astarion creates the Blood Guild - a union of vampires and dhampirs who prefer to hunt monsters rather than be ones. They also keep an eye on other vampires who are a danger to mortals, especially those who make spawns and thralls out of innocent victims.

Having immortal undead friends feels nice; having friends who understand his issues, too.

He finds himself in the position of a mentor; vampires come to him for advice and emotional support.

Then he meets a person, a runaway spawn, angry with what happened to them, determined to do whatever it takes to break their chains. Astarion agrees to help; they constantly bicker about every single thing—views on life, personal experiences, shared interests.

This new person is annoying, obnoxious, brave, and lovable. Suddenly Astarion realizes he doesn't want to stay in his tent alone; he doesn't want to speak to himself anymore.

The long-forgotten feeling of loving someone aches in his undead heart, but now it's not his turn to confess.

"You know, I've been manipulating you into helping me. I am sorry. if you want, I will go away."

"You are a good person, Astarion. No one is like you. But you deserve honesty and something real."

Astarion smiles back and hugs this person.

This relationship is different; the runaway spawn is nothing like you, different in every way possible—personality, appearance, behavior, views on life, everything.

At first, there is profound guilt, as if he betrays your memory by having another romantic relationship.

They talk, sharing the darkest and saddest parts of their immortal lives—crimes they had to commit, lives they lost.

Eventually, Astarion tells them about you—how wonderful you were, how kind, how brave, how much you meant to him. His new love smiles and takes away a strand curl from his face.

"So, this is the person I must thank for you?".

He helps his new love to break the chains by killing the vampire lord.

Returning back, Astarion starts talking about the future.

Adventures? Of course! His partner is also a spawn, they need healing and freedom the same way he needed many years ago.

And then - who knows? Life is full of cruel wonders. Especially, for immortals.

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy

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kifkay · 3 months ago

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I love when magic has an effect on the body & soul of its caster. like!! you don’t get to be a reality-bending demi-god and walk away with no strings attached. there’s always a price.

Bloom’s dragon fire consumes her from the inside, leaving lightning-like tissues of scars along her limbs - be careful, rumbles the Great Dragon from within, don’t let your emotions consume you. Bloom wails from the pain and clutches whoever is in the vicinity - but cannot fully stop it. just prevent it or treat the aftermath.

Musa gets migraines. Stella becomes ill when she doesn’t get her daily dose of sunshine. Aisha’s senses get muddy sometimes, almost as if she’s submerged underwater. Nabu experiences uncontrollable tremors in his arms, when he creates too many of his phantoms. all of those are - yes, horrible to experience but manageable enough for the school (and the Magic community at large) to tell them to just suck it up and weather through.

once you get your enchantix though, you start developing… unique abilities. almost like, in achieving the final fairy form, you became one with your brand of magic.

Bloom starts producing smoke. Like - she snorts at something funny Riven or Sky say, and literal puffs of smoke emerge from her nose. It’s jarring at first (“Bloom Peters, when did you start smoking? do you know that it kills??”) but quickly becomes endearing once they realise it’s not life-threatening in any way (after speed-running through like fifteen Magix apothecaries). Among her other ‘oddities’: too hot to cuddle with (only Stella can stand the high temperature, since she has a resistance to heat), becomes strangely overprotective and a little possessive, her eyes sometimes become a startling orange hue as if she’s embodied by the great dragon himself (it’s just a party trick).

Stella becomes more ethereal. In certain lights, her skin looks translucent - like a mirage weaved with moonlight. Her hair glints in the sun, almost too bright to like at; her touch feels phantom-like. She becomes even more beautiful, but less - human, earth-bound, Stella-esque. A curse and a blessing, that one.

Musa’s hearing gets really fucking good. She has a steadily growing dossier of blackmail on every student in Alfea - simply because shut doors or longer distances are no longer obstacles for her. It’s annoying too, because she can’t exactly turn it off - and now she gets to hear all the things people say about her, behind her. but here’s a consolation - she can influence other creature’s emotions through the melodies she hums! like how in canon, she pacified the bird Roc and brought mirth to the arguing fairies.

Flora gets much sturdier. Her skin harder than bark; her body able to withstand thirst and hunger for much longer than the rest. It’s honestly so intimidating. Here’s this sweet young woman — known to cry for trampled flowers and cut weeds!! — absolutely bodying a sharp ass ice shard that Icy attacked her with. It just — crumbles upon colliding with Flora’s body. insane and frankly so so hot for others to see.

As per the negatives… I like the idea of Flora being able to connect to the memories of nature around her and literally absorb the pain/fear/anguish of whatever she witnessed.

Aisha and Bloom are similar, in a sense that both of them are vessels to primordial divinities of their universe — Bloom is the holder of the Dragon Flame, and Aisha is the child of the Infinite Ocean. therefore, both experience a more extreme transformation than their girl friends. like, Aisha’s dreams are infiltrated by visions of past and future; memories of those who were lost to the Ocean. she dreams of Politea, of Tritanus, of her mer cousins and ancestors, and even those who were not yet born. if Aisha was not so mentally wilful, she might’ve folded under the weight of those prophesies.

Aisha can also breathe under water and her body gets the musculature it needs to be on par with her mer cousins while swimming, because why the fuck not?

Tecna - I frankly have no ideas for and would love to hear suggestions!

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mayapapaya33 · 2 months ago

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I just watched episode 107 and it is so fucking funny to me that half of these characters are so up their own asses that they somehow missed that the Archeart is trying to prevent Calamity 2: Electric Boogaloo with his plan, not save the Gods from Ludinus. The Gods apparently already have a Plan for dealing with Ludinus. That plan is to break the Divine Gate (I assume) and smite his ass. But the second they do that, it's game over and mortals are FUUUUUUUUUUCKED.

He basically said "Hey, you saw what we did to Aeor, we are about to do that to Ludinus as well, and there's going to be a LOT of collateral damage. Hurry the fuck up and chase us out of here or come up with a different plan already. Do something before Ludinus does, because we will make the decision for you at that point, and you will NOT like it."

The Archeart is actually much humbler than Bells Hells, this is wild. If I'm reading this situation right, he basically scanned them all up and down and figured them all out instantly; all of their resentment and anger and went, ok I know exactly how to act around these people. Then did what needed to be done to save his children from themselves and their own egos and resentment, because he knew they wouldn't listen otherwise. Amazing. I watched a switch flip in his eyes as he talked to Ashton, and it continued with Dorian.

Dorian in particular is so deep in his grief fueled anger and pain that there's no real way to reach him with logic right now, and I think the Archeart can feel it. So he just goes with it, 'whatever gets you moving in the right direction beautiful, I don't have time to deconstruct your vaguely racist (deist? no, deicist? lol) clumping of all the Gods together under the sins of one of us'.

I watched Calamity, I know what the Gods can do, if they feel like it (Vivid flashbacks of Zerxus getting his face ripped off). Dorian is throwing a temper tantrum because his brother is dead and he's sad and angry. He's feeling reckless and powerful because the Gods need his help, this is his opportunity to be cruel and spiteful and regain some control of his life and make the Gods feel small like he feels small! The Archeart knows that, and simply smiles and calls him beautiful.

With Ashton, the hilarious "Does it make you hard?" turns into a seemingly sincere confession of needing their help. It is true that he needs their help. But the help he needs is on their behalf, to save mortals from a second Calamity and free them from the Gods presence in their lives. The presence that, no matter how far removed or diminished in the world, some people will never stop seeing as a tyranny, truthfully or falsely. He's sacrificing his own pride and dignity to ask mortals to help him help themselves and being insulted for his troubles. And people still wonder whether the Prime Deities care about their children!

#critical role #exu downfall #cr3e107 #critical role spoilers #the archeart #ludinus da'leth #bells hells #aeor #exandrian pantheon #ashton greymoore #dorian storm #campaign 3 #critical role meta #exu calamity #zerxus ilerez #asmodeus

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cannellee · 7 months ago

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Hi. This is about the alpha South x omega x alpha Mikey post for clarity.

Imagine how furious alpha Mikey would be if he found out that alpha South already got omega (name) pregnant.

I think he would go nuts lmao

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! south x omega! reader x yandere!alpha! mikey (read this for more context)

— mikey finds out you're pregnant with south's kid

cw : delusional mikey, violence, slight breeding kink, baby trapping

a/n : btw I don't like yanderes who are violent towards their s/o, so mikey acts sweetly towards reader even though that might not be a representative reaction!! I hope you'll still enjoy!

MY MASTERLIST: ☆

it would definitely not end well for any of you.

while dating south, you were in such a vulnerable state of mind that you got carried away. he showered you with the affection you came to miss and crave when you were with mikey and you honestly didn't give too much thought about what you were doing with south at night...

it wasn't surprising for you to end up the way you did, little bump on your stomach, which you always caressed and touched after you learned the news.

south was fine with having his omega pregnant, only thing which prevented him from being fully happy was his worry for your safety.

now imagine you left mikey's side for more than two months, so that your belly could show a little. you're growing more and more stressed because of south's behaviour, it's suspicious and weird and with your hormones being all over the place, you're feeling even more distressed.

when you follow him and are met with the most unexpected sight, your breathing quickens and your scent couldn't be more sour. you were sensitive before, but now that you were pregnant that's another story.

when you threw yourself on south, all mikey could feel was pure anger and grabbed your arms roughly to pry you off of him.

yes you were fragile, mikey knew that. but when you fell on your side after he simply pushed you away, he flinched at the pained whine you involuntarily let out.

he looked at you, confused and worried. albeit his initial rage, he managed to decipher your scent between all the strong pheromones of all the alphas out there. it was sweet, sugary and very soft. mikey would've recognisable it with no efforts.

but something wasn't right, something was different. you watched as he breathed through his nose, frown deepening at the foreign aroma around you. your strawberry pheromones were all over the place and decoupled, and among it, a nice new smell of pink sugar grazed his nostrils.

it smelled divinely good, but most importantly, it stirred up mikey's instincts in an abnormal way. he felt on edge, protective thoughts circling in his mind. it's like you wanted everyone to be aware of how fragile you were, to have them know you were powerless and in need of reassurance.

and when mikey looked you up and down, that's when he noticed your slightly round belly, a protective hand over it.

wide eyes, mikey took a while before actually understanding what exactly he was seeing, completely shocked. he questioned you with his eyes, hoping you would simply shake your head 'no' and grace him with the answer he wanted to hear. but you didn't and he couldn't feel more enraged.

he furiously looked at south and wasted no time in showering him with punches. all his yelling hurt your poor ears as your hands did nothing at trying to cover the noise.

mikey was unstoppable as he screamed profanities at south, promising him to never let him go unless he was perfectly sure he would never touch you again.

not only did you run away from him and gave yourself to another alpha, but that bastard even had the audacity to get you fucking pregnant. the marks mikey had left on your body months ago were deep enough to surely be still present ; it was a clear indicator that you were somebody else's. anyone would have backed off and refuse to have sex with you. but this asshole just had to ignore all those claims and deliberately court his omega.

mikey was simply blinded with rage as he hit him relentlessly, aiming for south's weak spots, wrecking his limp body as much as he could.

you couldn't muster the courage to move and you had no choice but to witness mikey's terrifying actions. you were still on the floor, silently sobbing because of the more than monstrous scene in front of you.

fortunately, your current state had made your scent more easily detectable so that you could communicate your desires and troubles better with your alpha during such a vulnerable time.

it flew right to mikey's nose, instincts to take care of his omega took over him and he found the control in himself to actually stop his butchery.

you saw mikey whip his head towards you, instantly letting go of south's bruised body. he slowly came up to you, disapproval written all over his face and urge to take you away from here eating him up alive.

he couldn't get his eyes off of your belly when he helped you sit down properly. he didn't know how to feel about this. be mad at you ? get into an argument with you to convey just how fucking furious he was ?

truthfully, you weren't to blame here, mikey thought. you were just a poor omega seeking comfort, south was the one who took advantage of you. he exploited your need for a strong presence next to you when mikey couldn't give you that.

you could've said anything to deny his words, mikey was clearly not admitting that it was a choice you made consciously. his lovely omega would have never betrayed him this much.

amidst the chaos, he couldn't think properly and instead chose to end his fight with south. he had to make sure you were safely taken away from south's greedy hands, in mikey's home where it was definitely the safest for you to stay considering your condition.

you should be cocooned by your alpha inside a warm nest, safe and sound and surrounded by reassuring items. but instead you're out there in the wild, all alone and unsupervised and trying to stop a fight right in the middle of a place crowed with thousands of alphas.

mikey was fuming, absolutely devastated by how poorly you were taken care of and the rage he felt was incomparable to anything he had ever felt.

he knew he would have done a better job at protecting you and while he had that tiny hope the baby inside you was his, at this time it really didn't matter in his eyes.

all he could see was your shaking form, forehead sweating from how much pressure you were under. your alpha was supposed to provide you anything, shelter you and protect you, especially during such a precious moment of pure vulnerability.

but here you were. you couldn't count on anybody and mikey's heart shattered upon seeing your tear-stained face and defenceless arms desperately trying to defend your poor excuse of an alpha.

he carefully carried you away from this place, placing a jacket over you to prevent you from getting sick.

you had no words to say in this situation, you simply had to follow what mikey wanted and considered to be the right thing.

he placed you gently on the soft bed, showering you with his clothes to remove all foreign smells from you. mikey had to claim you again, make sure you were scented from head to toe. this is what good alphas do to soothe their omegas after all!

and this was his priority at the moment. to put you to sleep, get your mind off of south and all the problems he brought to you.

you were easier to manipulate as the hormones of pregnancy made your omega more receptive to the orders and voice of an alpha. you could try and fight off your instincts, mikey still had the upper hand and wouldn't give up until you obeyed and followed what he considered as the best choice right now. you needed rest and that's what you were gonna get.

and the hectic day soon got the best of you that you finally dozed off, calmly breathing in the familiar scent of mikey's sheets.

your sleeping figure helped mikey release a bit of tension, knowing his omega was right where she belonged and that her future pup was in good hands.

all that remained to be done now was to get your stuff back from south's apartment and take care of south himself. there was no way he was gonna let some stranger be the father of your kid. you belonged to mikey and by extension, the child you bore was also his, he wouldn't have it any other way.

he'll go out his way to find south again and prevent him from claiming your child, probably aiming to kill him in the process. mikey was going to be the only support in your life, the only pillar you'll need. he'll be the only one present during your pregnancy, guaranteeing you to never let you feel hurt or scared ever again.

you won't go out again as well, he saw how today affected you and quickly understood it was all too much for your poor little pregnant omega heart. too sensitive and emotional...

mikey will force you to stay still, waiting at home for him until you finally give birth. his instincts are so strong and overwhelming, he'll enter a blind rage if his omega isn't cocooned in the warmth and safety of her nest, in her alpha's home.

he's actually somehow glad you got pregnant, although he would have preferred to be the biological father. but now he has a great excuse to keep you by his side. he exploits your weaknesses and lack of financial support to insert himself into your life for good. he scares you into thinking you need him to keep you safe, that alphas will rush to hurt you once they learn you're this helpless and trying to raise a kid on your own.

he'll definitely get you pregnant soon after you give birth, wanting a kid of his own blood. he's so deep into a possessive state of mind that he wants nothing more than to see you all cutely waddle around the house because of the seeds he put into you. he wants to claim you in the most primal way. his intentions are mostly triggered by your past with south but also because he feels like baby trapping you is the most efficient way to keep you right next to him.

in the end, mikey's commitment towards you will grow significantly in the future. once south is disposed of, he'll purely focus on you, knowing nothing will ever get in between the two of you ever again.

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yuesya · 23 days ago

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How long has it been?

Far too long, evidently. Imunlaukr stares at the snowy path, barely even recognizable as a proper path up the mountain anymore, with the sheer volume of snow that it is buried beneath. It’s clear that the roads to Sal Vindagnyr are no longer maintained for travel, and that’s… not a good sign.

The deeper into the mountain they go, the more Imunlaukr becomes uneasy. There’s an element of something unnatural to the cold –as if there is some freezing element attempting to dig its way beneath his skin, not just a coldness that exists in their surrounding environment. The people of Sal Vindagnyr are not used to long winters, and Imunlaukr is worried for them. Between the harsh cold and the lack of supplies from any traveling merchants, the survivors of the kingdom would not have had an easy time surviving here while Imunlaukr had been gone, searching for a solution.

… The Divine Nail. Imunlaukr looks towards the center of the mountain, where that gigantic nail had suddenly descended from the heavens, smashing deep into the ground and bringing with it an endless winter upon Sal Vindagnyr.

“The survivors have been living here all this time?” the accompanying knight from Mondstadt murmurs, a faint note of disbelief in those words.

“They have,” Imunlaukr confirms. “The Divine Nail seems to prevent citizens of Sal Vindagnyr from leaving the kingdom, even though things are in this state.”

“So that’s the reason why you, a foreign traveler, were tasked with seeking a way to resolve their predicament,” the knight turns his gaze upon him, silently assessing. “To be entrusted with such a task… they must have great faith in you.”

Something clenches inside Imunlaukr’s chest. They trusted you. What if you’re too late?

“… I can only hope to live up to their faith,” he says eventually.

The knight nods in understanding, and pats Imunlaukr on the shoulder with an armored hand.

“Fear not,” he says. “If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in the Great Hunter. I do not know how you managed to convince the lord, but if they’ve agreed to lend their strength to you, then there is nothing that you worry about.”

… There is something to be said for the unwavering faith that the people of Mondstadt have in their god. A staunch belief that their god is the greatest of protectors, a bulwark shielding them from the dangers that threatened them.

In the legends, it was said that Lord Decarabian descended from the heavens upon witnessing the pain and suffering that men faced, eking out their survival in a land overrun by countless beasts. The god had been moved by their plight, and henceforth declared that no beast-monster would be permitted to intrude upon their land, granting a safe haven to those who otherwise would’ve been devoured to the bone by bloodthirsty beasts.

Sympathetic towards humanity was a consistent portrayal of the Great Hunter in tales relating to their exploits. It was a deciding factor in Imunlaukr’s decision to travel to Mondstadt and make his plea, although…

I have no reason to leave this land.

…

For a god that was celebrated for their love of humanity, the Great Hunter was… far colder than what Imunlaukr had thought they would be like. Imunlaukr had not seen them interacting closely with their people, not like how the God of Dust smiled and chatted with her people in their bustling marketplaces. If anything, the Great Hunter had appeared to be distant and detached, and was quite difficult to find or even catch a glimpse of.

… But they’d agreed to help. Even though they’d been cold and inexpressive, they were still the only god who agreed to Imunlaukr’s unreasonable request to help the people of Sal Vindagnyr, the kingdom that incurred the ire of Celestia.

I suppose I could make an exception.

Imunlaukr closes his eyes, and for the very first time, inexplicably feels as if he understands the urge to pray.

#writing #zenith of stars au #mondstadt au #more sal vindagnyr stuff #hopefully we're getting to balor stuff next time #!!

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dailyadventureprompts · 5 months ago

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Monsterhunt: Savogorg, Demon of Deliciousness

Demons reflect the most destructive impulses of the living and while most default to primal feelings like fear, pain, and despair... the feeling this saccharine salamander embodies could best be described as "the irresistible urge to stick your finger in a freshly frosted cake".

Driven by an indulgent need to taste all the finest things without ever worrying about hunger Savogorg crashes feasts, burgles pantries, and pinches pies from windowsills heedless of the chaos it causes in the process.

It takes an act of supreme immoderation to summon the demon of deliciousness, an inability to be satisfied that goes so far beyond hedonism that it wounds the soul. A ruler who beggars the realm with their elaborate feasts, An epicurean restaurateur who seeks ever more exotic experiences for her exclusive clientele, the taverncook who insists that this time he'll finally be able to make his grandmother's recipe as good as he remembers it. Those that suffer this affliction find themselves beset by bouts of reckless appetite, and with every mouthful the demon's stake upon them grows until it is finally able to manifest in the world.

Adventure Hooks:

Everyone knew it was a bad omen when the earl's secondborn shot the white stag. Legends of earning lordship be damned, it was plain as day the creature was beloved by the forest goddess. Butchery and trophytaking was bad enough, but to serve the flesh to your spoiled friends only to spit it out as "gamey"... now that truelove was worthy of some divine wrath. Now the noble lad wanders the wood in a state of ragged confusion, delirious from hunger and mushrooms and fermented berries, sometimes asking passersby for help, sometimes attempting to bite them. Folk susspect he's become a werewolf, and the earl is offering a rich reward to those who can bring his boy back and break the curse, while his firstborn is willing to pay extra to ensure that doesn't happen. She's become convinced her brother desires her inheritance, and what could it hurt if he stayed mad?

A prestigious culinary competition has been thrown into chaos after a series of disastrous incidents and atleast one contestant going missing. This is an excuse to riff off your favourite baking shows while the party plays detective trying to find who's eating the supplies... and the staff.

There's no such thing as forbidden snacks when you're a hunger demon. Having slithered into an elven temple dedicated to the god of earth and wine, Savogorg has laid it's greedy fingers on a sacred artifact in the form of a heavily laden bunch of grapes each sculpted from a precious gemstone and swallowed it whole. Ignorant of the demon's existnace the elves are incensed at this trespass, and begin hunting and questioning would be thieves. Tracking the demon might be easier than expected, as the holy artifact has given it divine indigestion, and the amphibious fiend keeps burping up minor mirracles as it moves about the city looking for a place to sleep off its tumymache.

Challenges & Complications:

Despite it's bulk, the demon's squishy body allows it to pass through any opening the size of a fist, allowing it to slip into unexpected places through drains, chimneys, and cracked doors, leaving behind only a sugary slime. This also allows it to unexpected escapes should it be cornered by the party. Experementation may reveal that extensive cold damage may cause the demon's body to semi-solidfy, preventing this ability.

As a demon of appetite, Savogorg is sustained by the act of eating, and will freely regain hitpoints anytime it focuses on chowing down rather than fighting the party, or if it's swallowed one of them whole. Poison can be useful here, souring its stomach and preventing it from actively eating anything more.

Artsource

#fiend #monster hunt #demon #mystery #forest #town #village #mid level #litirenn #feast

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trashytoastboi · 6 months ago

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Seven Days of Sin Event

~Angst Alphabet Shorts part 1~

> Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer

I: Injured: How do they handle themselves when they’re injured?

🎶 He’s more likely to hide the fact that he’s injured. He doesn’t want you all to worry or fuss over him. At most he might trust someone to help him out if he’s not able to hide it completely. He trusts you enough to tell you when he’s injured. Only because you’ll notice and worry if he keeps it from you as he has in the past. Lucifer always believes he has to handle things himself and hide anything he believes to be weakness, including his injuries.

M: Mistakes: How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

🎶 Lucifer once upon a time tried to go back. That's all he wanted, all he thought about. Going back and fixing everything before it was even done. Why did things turn out the way that they did? He never could bring himself to understand. But now… After finding out the result of their choice, he’s content. Now that they had come to terms with their grief and adjusted to life, then things have happened and they created a new home and memories. Now he doesn’t dwell on the wish to go back as much.

V: Vent: How do they get rid of feelings they find unnecessary?

🎶 He buries his feelings, pushes them aside or finds an outlet like working. Lucifer never entrusted anyone with his worries or he felt that it would be an unnecessary burden for people so he bottles it up. Until it explodes into the messiest breakdown that you’d never see, because he holds it together until he’s alone and can just let everything consume him violently. Snot, tears, spit, everything. It’s a mess, he’s a mess. He’d never allow anyone to see him in such a way.

Q: Qualify: What parts of themselves do they consider dangerous?

🎶 His determination to protect his family. There’s no depths that he would not stoop to if it’s for their sake. Lucifer may be prideful but he’s willing to cast it aside for the sake of his brothers and let no one stand against him. He’s scared of what he’s capable of doing for them.

Mammon

A: Accident: Would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?

💰 He would blame himself, saying he should have stopped you. Or at least been there to prevent the situation from happening. He’d question himself, he’d punish himself. Why wasn’t he at your side? What was so important that he left you alone and allowed this to happen. If you were there you’d tell him not to blame himself. It was an accident, something no one foresaw. No one could have predicted it, or stopped it and Mammon tearing himself apart while believing otherwise is a painful sight for everyone to see.

R: Rock: What weighs them down?

💰 Sometimes he thinks back to the days in the celestial realm. He’s moved on, as best as he can and he’s living his life now. Albeit as a demon, a far cry from the divine being he once was. Sometimes he’ll do something, amplified and compelled by his sin and he’ll catch himself wondering why he’s like this now and why he couldn’t return to the way he was before.

Y: Yearning: Do old memories make them yearn for your touch

💰 When you said a tearful farewell to everyone and left the Devildom to return to the human realm. Mammon was LOST. He didn’t know what to do without you there. Every day he got up he’s the first one running to your room to get you, only to knock on a door that no one was going to answer. He’d miss you, and all the affection you’d give him. The hugs when he was sad, holding his hands to stop him from pickpocketing a poor unsuspecting soul, or how you would praise him and touch his head. He misses all of that so much. Why’d you have to leave?

Z: Zest: Add your own letters (A/N: Treating this like a wildcard and will just put a random headcanon)

💰 Mammon does not know how to deal with grief. Even hypothetically, you’ve had the conversation with him, the question of what he’d do when you pass. It was inevitable, you’re human, your lifetime is not long enough to match his. You would grow old, eventually passing on and you’d have to part ways permanently. Mammon couldn’t bring himself to answer because he refused to think about it. He can’t imagine it. A world and you’re nowhere in it.

Leviathan

I: Injured: How do they handle themselves when they’re injured?

🎮 He’s not a baby per se, but he’s not hiding it. Honestly he wants you to dote on him. He’d tell only you and ask you to keep it a secret. He’s good at handling the pain because he’d tell you it’s just a little scratch when in actuality it’s a lot more dire and deep than he led you to believe. He wants to feel that someone cares and so he’d tell you, the person who Levi knows would treat him tenderly and kindly while he’s healing.

M: Mistakes: How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

🎮 Levi had too many things he wanted to fix. Sometimes anxiety would make even the most mundane mistake one worthy of fixing. If he sits and considers all the things he wanted to fix then the anxiety would swallow him whole. The big, the small, the tragic and the things that brought about real changes in indescribable ways. He wants to go back, he wants that redo button but in the moments when he’s content with life he really thinks about it. Is that what he truly wanted? At the risk of losing what he had now? Sometimes the thought alone eased it.

R: Rock: What weighs them down?

🎮 The way he is. He says, his self depreciation always leads into dark territory and he can name more flaws than things he likes about himself. He sees himself through the worst lens and believes himself to be useless amongst other names he’d gladly label himself with. He regrets the way he is, it’s a heavy thing. It takes a bit of encouragement, a lot of steady affirmation to convince him of otherwise and he craves validation to convince him. A single bad word can tear down any positive self esteem he builds up.

Z: Zest: Add your own letters (A/N: Treating this like a wildcard and will just put a random headcanon)

🎮 Genuinely wants to get better at connecting with people. He believes most of his problems would be solved if he could just connect with people. He says the wrong thing and will retreat, punishing himself for it. It was an honest mistake but would they see it that way. Levi goes into things always assuming people hate him and want nothing to do with him. Never do open invitations with him, unless he’s invited specifically he will assume that you don’t want him there.

Satan

O: Outrage: What makes them angry?

📚 A lot can set him off, he’s volatile. He doesn’t mean to be and he’s trying to work on it but it’s hard when he’s surrounded by people that drive him up the walls. Satan honestly hated the fact that he felt no respect from anyone. There was nothing but fear, and evasiveness. People had no respect for his personal space and it irked him, how they would touch him without his consent when all he wanted was to be left alone. Or when they would come into his room- his ONLY safe space and take away the very thing that made it safe.

P: Pressure: What stresses them to the breaking point?

📚 Satan has a lot of triggers and sadly unlike most who can calm down and get back to normality, his emotions stack up. They stack, and stack until they have no more outlet aside from OUT. They explode and so does he. Most of his outbursts aren’t caused by a simple momentary anger, it’s a piling effect of things that were simmering under the surface. The more people are afraid of him, the more he tries to control himself, fails to do so and it makes it worse. He grows fearful of himself and it becomes a vicious cycle.

T: Time: What if they had a limited time to live?

📚 He wouldn’t tell anyone. He’d leave. He’d go somewhere where he could be alone and spend his time doing things he likes until it was time to say goodbye. He would do so, alone, peacefully and no one would know. That was his initial answer when you asked this question the first time. His relationship with his brothers changed, grew and became something precious. His relationship with you- evolved into something deeper. Had you asked him this question again, he would want to be supported by all of you, and loved until the moment he leaves with you all by his side.

Y: Yearning: Do old memories make them yearn for your touch?

📚 Satan tries not to dwell on it too much, he doesn’t want to deal with the extra emotions. The answer however is yes, he’d remember you and your absence grows only more pronounced. He’d think of when he could lay his head in your lap, reading his book while your fingers played with his hair. It was calming, he could fall asleep, feeling safe with you. That was no longer there and you, his safe space, are no longer there. He’d remember your touches as something calming, filled with love and safety. He feels lost without it. He misses it.

Asmodeus

E: Emotion: What emotions do they tend to push away the most?

💅🏻 Insecurity - Asmodeus never wants to doubt himself. He ignores it, when he looks at himself and doubts his appearance, his existence. Feeling too far removed from what he once was, Asmo needed to embrace this new life. Find security or distraction so his thoughts didn’t discard who he’d become, so his past self couldn’t scorn him and look down on him. Asmo piled on compliment after compliment, found people to cater to his dire need to be praised and validated, to be praised as beautiful. He needed to hear it so much that he himself could believe it.

G: Great pain: What is the most painful thing they’ve witnessed?

💅🏻 The fall of his brothers and himself. The moment all of those who were once his allies treated them as traitors, the fight was vicious. There was no choice though, this is what they chose. To save their family, and protect Lilith. Asmo would never forget, not really forget. He could get moments of peace when his mind was far too occupied, focused on the moment that he couldn’t think about it. The moment he saw despair and regret, the utter pain that encompassed them all and the forced shame they felt.

K: Kill: Would they kill for revenge?

💅🏻 10/10 He absolutely would. Should someone hurt you or his brothers, Asmodeus is vindictive enough to hunt them down and kill them. He wouldn’t grant them the mercy of a quick death either and would get really sadistic about it. He’d forget himself and gladly become the monster when exacting such a brutal revenge. To send a message, to put himself at ease, even when he knows revenge is empty and cold. It wouldn’t bring anyone back or change what had been done.

R: Rock: What weighs them down?

💅🏻 Self destructive tendencies. Asmo is aware of them and he hides them well. Most people wouldn’t notice his unkind habits because he disguises them so well. Asmo knows what he’s doing, he wants to stop but he finds comfort in them. So he continues to do them every time he feels overwhelmed, he does it to feel a semblance of control. The result is met with him talking himself down, trying to stop doing it but he always falls into familiar habits.

Beelzebub

S: Sorrow: Would they feel empty after your death?

🍔 He’d be so lost without you. Beel would fall back into the deep pain of grief, a feeling that you helped him heal from and now he’s got to experience it with you. It’s too much, he’d be feeling so much at once that wouldn’t be able to decide what feels worse than the other. The sadness? The disbelief? The anger? Cycling through reasons of things to blame for your passing. Himself? You? Beel prays, something he hadn’t done for a long time. He wants to wake up from the nightmare because this is not reality. Everyone knows it’s hard on Beel when he doesn’t even eat.

U: Urge: How badly do they get the urge to see you after separating?

🍔 Beel misses you terribly. When you go back to the human world. He’s always messaging, calling, asking when you’re going to be back. When he can see you again and hold you. He’s missing you. He’s asking Lucifer every second day if he could go see you and Lucifer of course says no so Beel resorts to plotting with his brothers to secretly come and visit you.

L: Loss: What was their greatest loss?

🍔 Lilith. For all the brothers it was the hardest loss they had to experience, but in particular for Beel and Belphie who held a deep relationship with Lilith; it was the most devastating loss. Beel blames himself for so much, and still believes it was his fault that she died. Gradually, things get better. They do and the feelings that suffocated him became a little lighter, enough to let him breathe. He still shoulders the weight of her absence, and guilt.

Q: Qualify: What parts of themselves do they consider dangerous?

🍔 His strength when it’s misused, or when he’s hangry. Beel has no control over himself during that time and can only see the destruction he caused after the fact. His insatiable hunger, when left to get out of control, is the most terrifying thing and people have been hurt as a result. His brothers struggle to control him or reign in his strength and can only watch when he's wreaking havoc.

Belphegor

W: Wild card: A random angst headcanon

⭐ Started sleeping a lot more not only due to his sin. Belphie used it as a way to escape from everything when he first fell into the Devildom, the loss of Lilith, the loss of their home and their wings, when he and his brothers became demons and were forced into an unfamiliar and hostile place. Sleeping was the only quiet he found, away from his thoughts, his feelings and his reality. Dreams were better.

C: Crying: Are they much of a crier?

⭐ Secret crier. He hides it well and he won’t make a peep. He’d bury himself under his pillows and sob his eyes out silently just to get all the feelings out. He sobbed himself to sleep every night when they first got to the Devildom. He knew everyone was struggling and couldn’t talk about what he was thinking about or feeling so he opted to cry alone. It was easier that way so he believed.

H: Humiliation: How could they be humiliated?

⭐ The early days of settling into Devildom, humiliation became a part of daily life. With the outright hatred and hostility from the demons towards the brothers who had just fallen. They went out of their way to sabotage them, to chase them away and highlight their differences and how they were not welcome anywhere. That separation, distinction and mockery of what they used to be is what caused relentless humiliation everyday for Belphie.

K: Kill: Would they kill for revenge

⭐ I mean for the sake of a grudge he held against all humans he nearly killed you- had it not been for Barbatos. It’s very likely for him to kill for revenge. He’d have no qualms about it, he’s got a motive and a means and if that person hurt him, or those close to him. His first solution is homicide. He’s very quick from point A to B with violence.

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

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