#i love my deformed son
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wispisstillverybored67 · 1 month ago
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(wonderful template idea here.)
"Mm... Oh, hello, Instructor. What, you want to learn about me? Er, heeheehee... Let's see, uh... My mother disappeared when I was 9, and I'm confident she's still alive, b-but I never bothered to look, no reason. And yes, again, I was born looking like this... Heeheehee. Thinking this up on the spot is so difficult."
>Dreaming Herbs: Herbs for people who are often carried away by bitter nostalgia. Will allow them to feel at peace.
Full name: Ozvaldo Noa Sgàthach
Nicknames: Oz (by most), Ozzy-boy (by Iris), Ozpera (by Hapi), Ozzykins (by Dorothea),
Birthday: 6th of the Wyvern Moon (October 6th)
Age: 17
Crest: (major) Crest of Scáthach
Family: Lord Bealtane, unnamed mother (possibly deceased), unnamed uncles, unnamed aunts.
Nationality: Morfithian
Titles: Prince of Ghouls, Quiet Boy, Deformed Creep.
Voice Claim: Shin-ichiro Miki, Armen Taylor
Interests: Cooking, reading
Likes: Going for night walks, mythology, plum jam, his father, magic tools, organ meats, secrets, loose desert clothing, new dishes, pomegranates, his homeland.
Dislikes: Being stared at, bright lights, marmalade, conflations of words, anything tight, putting things in or near his eyes, being alone, discrimination. 
Favorite Meals: Fruit and Herring Tart, Daphnel Stew, Sweet Bun Trio, Gautier Cheese Gratin, Super-Spicy Fish Dango, Onion Gratin Soup.
Liked Meals: Pickled Rabbit Skewers, Gronder Meat Skewers, Sweet and Salty Whitefish Sauté, Fried Crayfish, Cheesy Verona Stew, Pickled Seafood and Vegetables, Small Fish Skewers, Pheasant Roast with Berry Sauce.
Disliked Meals: Peach Sorbet, Vegetable Pasta Salad, Fish and Bean Soup, Saghert and Cream.
Tea Preferences: Tea of the Saints, Crescent Moon Tea, Rose Petal Blend, Ginger Tea, Kelp Tea
Liked Gifts: Tasty Baked Treat, Smoked Meat, Tea Leaves, Pitcher Plant, Ancient Coin
Disliked Gifts: Goddess Statuette, Riding Boots, Ceremonial Sword
Lost Items:
Lavender Invocation
A small paper containing instructions for a spell that calms targets. It probably belongs to an intellectual who has a menacing appearance.
Black Marble Statue
An exquisite looking carving of the patron goddess of Morfis; the Shadowed One, made of a stone extremely rare in Fódlan. It probably belongs to a religious native of that city.
Cosmetics Box
A thick carry-on case containing all sorts of cosmetics and products, highly sought after by the beauty focused. It probably belongs to someone who wants to look less offensive and corpse-like.
Starting Class: Preferred Class Path: Commoner, Monk/Myrmidon, Mage/Dark Mage, Warlock/Dark Bishop, Valkyrie, Mage Knight<>Dark Knight
Strength: Reason, Faith, Authority
Weakness: Axe, Brawling, Riding, Flying
Budding Talent: Riding
Personal Skill: Black Sabbath - Increases the range of Rally skills to all allies in range.
Weapons Starting Levels:
Sword: D Lance: E Axe: E Bow: E Brawling: E Reason: D+ Faith: E+ Authority: D+ Heavy Armor: E Riding: E Flying: E
Base Stats:
HP: 19 Str: 7 Mag: 13 Dex: 6 Spd: 6 Lck: 9 Def: 5 Res: 8 Cha: 1
Learned Faith Spells: Heal, Nosferatu, Seraphim, Recover, Fortify, Aura
Learned Reason Spells: Wind, Blizzard, Ruin α, Thoron, Ragnarok, Fenrir Ψ
Recruit Requirements: Complete Chapter 4, and share a meal with him before he approaches you on a free day.
Potential Supports:
Byleth
Iris
Edelgard
Bernadetta
Ferdinand
Petra
Linhardt
Dorothea
Caspar
Dimitri
Mercedes
Annette
Ashe
Sylvain
Lysithea
Marianne
Leonie
Yuri
Balthus
Constance
Hapi
Catherine
Shamir
Flayn
Crit Quotes:
AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
Dance in the shadows!
Feast your eyes on me!
My lady alone may know...!
A corpse may never leave you!
(Post-timeskip)
The face of a Phantom! Feast your eyes!
Shine, lady of shadow!
SING FOR ME!
Stranger then YOU'D think?!
AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Defeat Quotes:
Queer... I ought to fall back. I don't recall this exhaustion. (pre-timeskip)
Hrmph... Certainly hope this won't draw much attention... (post-timeskip, casual mode)
Heeheehee, ugh... All I ask of you... is to ask if Mama's fine... Oh, Leto... (post-timeskip, classic mode)
A result we were blind to see... Tell me if Leto was okay, Iris... I... miss you... (Ashen Demon, Rivers in the Desert)
Skill Level Increase Quotes:
Bad: Ha? I... see.
Oh, okay. I get it now. (either critique or console)
Good: Hehe.
Great: Yes, yes, this should work.
Perfect: Yes yes yes! Oops. I... apologize, heehee.
You don't mean that... do you?! Hah, I thank you...
Level Up Quotes:
How... ghastly./Sure. Sure. (0-2 stats up)
This will do./This'll do. (3-5 stats up)
Hmm.../Yes, this is nice. (4-6 stats up)
Can I truly rest on this?/It might be okay to rest on this. (6-7 stats up)
Never thought I would see the day.../Suppose I only have my lady to thank. (level 99)
Gift Quotes
Liked Gifts: Oh, uh, thank you. Where did you get this?
Neutral Gifts: (Who put him/her up to this?) How curious. Thank you.
Disliked Gifts: How ghastly. Heeheehee...
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dooblez · 1 year ago
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general jake the third consensus
jake the third is @/shuueep’s abomination/pos/j you can find more over there :]
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sillylilzebra · 10 months ago
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i was sitting down on the floor since morning making this guy (and a few more) now my ass hurts and i need a nap but meet Sam. This is Sam. he's my son.
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doctorwhoandfairytaillover · 6 months ago
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Loving Arms
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Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)
Part I: An Important Guest
A/N: No pairings as of right now as I want to focus on the familial and platonic relationships with Greens when they're still quite young. This is possibly only the beginning (credit for the divider goes to @kawaii-lau)
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126 AC
Some months after the funeral of the Lady Laena Velaryon, wife of the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen there was much clamor in the Red Keep. For the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower had been summoned to court after more than a decade away from the intrigue and politics that surrounded the throne and her family. Not much was known about the sister of the Queen apart from what had been known from her previous shorts visits in the early years of her sisters marriage and births of the younger royal children. The elder Hightower girl had been married two years prior to Alicent's own marriage to the King.
Hoping for a future alliance with the house of his eldest daughter's husband, Otto had the girl married to the younger brother of Qoren Martell who served as the reigning Prince of Dorne. But upon the death of his son by law, it was expected by the Hand of the King that his daughter would return to follow her filial duty of remarrying once more upon her return. Only... the man had not accounted for how his grandchildren would come to react to the arrival of their long unseen aunt.
--------
Aemond was positively annoyed with his older brother Aegon, "You could not think to ready yourself for our guests arrival ahead of time? Must you always make the lot of us appear inadequate because you choose to drink yourself into a stupor?"
Halaena, Aegon, and Aemond were specifically told to prepare for an important guests arrival but because of the elder amongst the three not being ready on time, it appeared that they would be late in their greetings. In his haste to reach the throne room faster, Aemond almost stumbled over his own feet and he cursed quietly to himself as he attempted to avoid tripping.
"Need help walking, do you Aemond?" Aegon giggled.
"I can walk just fine," Aemond mumbled. "I simply need a bit more time to recover my sense of balance on account of my... my eye."
The younger Targaryens response quieted his brother and the elder turned his attention to their sister.
"Were you told anything about who our important guest is meant to be?" Aegon asked. "One would think that if they were such an important person, we would all have to be alongside our mother and grandsire by the entrance."
Halaena shook her head, "I think we've met them before, but I cannot be certain if it's who I think it might be."
"Oh and pray tell, wise Halaena. Who could it be?" Aegon mocked.
"Didn't mother happen to receive a raven some weeks ago that our uncle the second prince of Dorne, the husband of our aunt had passed from the sweating sickness."
"Why on earth would that woman come?" the eldest asked, "I don't think she has come to visit King's Landing since the birth of our dear Aemond. Not that I could begrudge the woman, I heard that it was a miracle our grandsire married her to a Dornish prince since she apparently was deformed and all found her a lost cause."
"Perhaps if you listened when Mother informed you about who our guest would be, then we would all know, now wouldn't we?" Aemond huffed. "And don't speak of our aunt that way! Show some respect!"
"It doesn't matter, we will know soon enough if it truly is her or not, and it's not as if our aunt will ever know, I doubt it could be her" Aegon grumbled.
The doors to the throne room were opened upon their arrival and all but one turned to look at the trio that had come into the room quite late. The children could see the frown that their mother wore clear as day when she looked upon them, her disapproval apparent at their actions. While their grandsire had a near equal downturn of his lips but it was more in his eyes that one could see the disappointment at the trio.
"Ah, so good of my grandchildren to finally make their appearance!" said ser Otto. "We had all wondered when you might grace us with your presence!"
Aegon merely rolled his eyes at the words of his grandsire, while Aemond and Halaena looked down in embarrassment.
"Oh come now Father, I am sure that my nephews and niece meant no harm and tried to make haste. They couldn't have expected that I would be the one to arrive."
Three sets of eyes were quick to look over at the person who spoke.
They could only see her profile, but it was apparent that the person could be no other person than their elusive aunt. The eldest daughter to Otto Hightower and his wife Alyrie Florten, widow of Prince Doran of House Martell, the Lady (Y/N) Hightower.
She wasn't an imposing figure, in fact, compared to her father and younger sister. Their aunt was not much, but... that is actually something that they appreciated about the woman. All their lives, the siblings had such imposing men and women that surrounded them or directed them at all times, but not (Y/N). She stood out in a gentle way, a steadiness to her presence. Unlike the prim and elegant hairstyles of the court, it was loosened and decorated with a few blossoms. Her gown was a pale green and embroidered with the symbols of both her own house and that of her late husband, with towers and suns. But most of all, there was no dismay in her gaze as she looked at them from the corner of her eye, rather she smiled affectionately and warmly.
"Come children," Alicent guided them closer. "Come and greet your aunt." And in a harsh whisper to Aegon said, "And don't even think about commenting on her appeareance!"
When their aunt fully turned to them, all held back a gasp when they saw her full countenance. A glassy grey eye stood out on the left hand side of her face that had obviously been burned. Carefully she stepped toward them and the three were ushered forward until they stood only a step away from her.
Unwaveringly she smiled at the trio and approached Aegon first, "You have grown much in the time since I last saw you."
Hesitantly, she reached to cup his face in her hand and the boy flinched, this stopped her movements and made her smile drop slightly. Carefully she waved her hand and asked, "May I?"
Tentatively, Aegon nodded and allowed his aunt to softly cradle his face in her hands. Her one good eye flickered across his face and she smiled at him once more, "Such a handsome young man. Must be the Hightower in you, because you and I seem to share the good looks."
His aunt's comment seemed to release the breath that the group was holding, because Aegon, Halaena, and Aemond couldn't help but giggle. A soft warmth settling in their bodies as they attempted to stifle their uncontrollable laughs.
Alicent saw their laughter as rude and intended on scolding them, but a raised hand from her sister was enough to have her hold her tongue.
Stepping away from her elder nephew, (Y/N) noticed how Halaena's gaze shifted away from her own and understood. She simply curtsied to the girl, "I look forward to getting know you more Halaena and perhaps you could show me your things of interest."
Halaena timidly smiled and curtsied in return, "I like all sorts of insects."
"I am sure you do, sweet girl."
And lastly, her gaze turned to her younger nephew that was shuffling nervously where he stood.
Quietly he asked, "Does it still hurt you?"
Her smile never wavered as she answered, "Thank you for your kind consideration, nephew. Sometimes, it does ache but I am fine now."
A gentle calm settled amongst them, but it was disturbed when ser Otto cleared his throat. "Come, dinner has been prepared and we have dallied long enough. I am sure you have needed a hearty meal."
"Of course, Father" (Y/N) agreed. "I am sure we can continue with pleasantries over a delicious meal."
The Hand of the King, carefully led his daughters out the room and so everyone else took this as a sign to clear the area. But the siblings stayed behind, a clear look between them that there were things they would need to talk about.
Tag List:
@minaxcarter, @hotleaf-juice, @pikomin, @deltamoon666, @cococrazy18, @firefairy, @dracaryxzs, @snowbunny58, @lacherrysouldy, @only4thefics, @queen-luna-007, @ambrivertenergy, @kayllineb12
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zomb1eturtlez · 1 year ago
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"At the risk of stating the obvious, no woman can mate with a bull and produce a child. Recognizing this simple scientific fact, I am led to a somewhat interesting suspicion: King Minos did not build the labyrinth to imprison a monster but to conceal a deformed child, his child.
While the Minotaur has often been depicted as a creature with the body of a bull but the torso of a man, centaur-like, the myth describes the minotaur as simply having the head of a bull and the body of a man, or in other words, a man with a deformed face. I believe pride would not allow Minos to accept that the heir to the throne had a horrendous appearance.
Consequently, he dissolved the right of ascension by publicly accusing his wife Pasiphae of fornicating with a male bovine.
Having enough conscience to keep from murdering his own flesh and blood, Minos had a labyrinth constructed, complicated enough to keep his son from ever escaping but without bars to suggest a prison. (It is interesting to note how the myth states most of the Athenian youth "fed" to the Minotaur actually starved to death in the Labyrinth, thus indicating their deaths had more to do with the complexity of the maze and less to do with the presumed ferocity of the Minotaur.)
I am convinced Minos' maze really serves as a trope for repression. My published thoughts on this subject (see "Birth Defects in Knossos"Sonny Won't Wait Flyer, Santa Cruz, 1968) inspired the playwright Taggert Chielitz to author a play called *The Minotaur* for The Seattle Repertory Company. As only eight people, including the doorman, got a chance to see the production, I produce here a brief summary:
Chielitz begins his play with Minos entering the labyrinth late one evening to speak to his son. As it turns out, the Minotaur is a gentle and misunderstood creature, while the so-called Athenian youth are convicted criminals who were already sentenced to death back in Greece. Usually King Minos has them secretly executed and then publicly claims their deaths were caused by the terrifying Minotaur thus ensuring that the residents of Knossos will never get too close to the labyrinth. Unfortunately this time, one of the criminals had escaped into the maze, encountered Mint (as Chielitz refers to the Minotaur) and nearly murdered him. Had Minos himself not rushed in and killed the criminal, his son would have perished. Suffice it to say Minos is furious. He has caught himself caring for his son and the resulting guilt and sorrow ineeses him to no end. As the play progresses, the King slowly sees past his son's deformities, eventually discovering an elegiae spirit, an artistie sentiment and most importantly a visionary understanding of the world. Soon a deep paternal love grows in the King's heart and he begins to conceive of a way to reintroduce the Minotaur back into society. Sadly, the stories the King has spread throughout the world concerning this terrifying beast prove the seeds of tragedy. Soon enough, a bruiser named Theseus arrives (Chielitz describes him as a drunken, virtually retarded, frat boy) who without a second thought hacks the Minotaur into little pieces. In one of the play's most moving scenes, King Minos, with tears streaming down his face, publicly commends Theseus' courage. The crowd believes the tears are a sign of gratitude while we the audience understand they are tears of loss. The King's heart breaks and while he will go on to be an extremely just ruler, it is a justice forever informed by the deepest kind of agony."
House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
pg. 110-111
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minju4won · 1 month ago
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into your soul
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WORD ACCOUNT idk how it is counted but it’s short anyway
PAIRING prince niki x lady y/n
WARNING: arranged married, bridgerton au
SYPNOSYS suddenly, your life had been ruined from one moment to the next. after several arguments, you were going to marry Prince Ni-ki, the queen's youngest son. how were you going to deal with this?
author note: this is my first fanfic its not the best ik but i will get better so plz don’t say nothing bad
part 1
"you will get married and i do not want any reproaches"
"mommy, please, i do not want that" you knelt down before her and sobbed into her dress. but your mother, without empathy, took off her dress and separated from you.
"do you have any other wish, your grace?" she said with irony. "do you think your opinion will count? you will marry with the prince."
"mommy?"
"you do better not reproach your father"
you were walking with your best friend, and you couldn't feel more uncomfortable, everyone was watching you. your engagement to the prince had been announced by lady whistledown.
"you must to be excited! you will be marry with the prince of england!"
you rolled your eyes as you covered yourself with your umbrella.
"i will be his slave for the rest of my life. is this the life you want for me?"
"you can not be serious, you will be a princess!" she said with excited. "you will have jewellery, gold and a luxurious life, is not that enough?"
of course that was enough, but that is not what you meant. you wanted to fall in love like in the novels of jane austen. you knew it was going to be impossible, but at least you wanted to fall in love, or at least choose your husband.
"i do not even know him. in his nineteen years of life nobody has seen him. how do I know it will not be someone unattractive?"
"does physique matter in this case? maybe you can become queen"
that would be impossible, given that he is the youngest of six brothers and two sisters.
you sighed as you saw lady cannella approaching you.
"miss y/n bauer, i listen to your engagement with prince niki. i´m very happy for you, not everyone can marry a prince"
it was clear that she was not happy, it was your first debut and you were already engaged, while her daughter had been on the market for three years and was hardly lucky to be approached by men.
even though you were not happy with the engagement, you decided to smile.
"i am grateful for your congratulations. i am happy that the prince has noticed my beauty. and your daughter? has she got a suitor this season?"
you could see the anger in her eyes.
"she will soon be married"
you nodded, trying to ignore her lie. you looked at your friend and again at the lady.
"lady cannella" you said goodbye.
you and your friend walked away from her and tried to stop your tears from flowing. this was not the life you wanted, what had you done to deserve it?
"i want to be alone"
"you will be okay?"
"i am okey" you said to get away from her. this life was unfair.
sure, marrying a prince was not so bad, but that was not your dream. you wanted to fall in love, marry him and then travel with him. but no, now you had to marry a stranger and give birth to children by the bucketload.
was not what you wanted.
you turned and looked at your ladies-in-waiting.
"tell me rumours about the prince"
"lady y/n?"
you closed your eyes angrily. "tell. me. rumours. about. the. prince."
one of them cleared her throat and looked down at the floor, uncomfortable. "the prince is very secretive about his privacy. no one has ever really seen him. but they say he is a monster. they say he spends days in brothels, even weeks without going out. has been doing so since his fourteenth birthday"
"they say he does not show himself because he was born with a disease, or worse, a deformity."
you bit your lip hard. that was your future?
your thoughts vanished when you heard the sound of a horse behind you. the worst thing you could have done was to roll over, as a large mud covered your face and body.
"lady y/n" your ladies shouted.
they wiped your face with a handkerchief and you saw the person who caused it.
was a tall--and handsome--man who was just now looking at you indifferently. but you could tell from his clothes that he was from the lower classes.
"i wish to apologise" he said, bowing.
"if you do not know how to ride a horse you should give it up. look what you did to me" you said angrily as you looked at your dress. it was your favourite.
"i am grieved" he said with some derision
you looked up perplexed. a low-income man just made fun of you?
"of course you should feel sorry!" you shouted, throwing your muddy scarf at him.
you saw the boy's disgusted face, which gave you satisfaction. after this, you didn't really think about what you did, but you ducked down and started throwing mud at him. the boy covered himself, however, he didn't fight back.
"i have enough to do with my miserable life without you coming to laugh at me" you felt the tears on your cheeks as you watched him. he looked at you without expression, without importance.
you roll your eyes to turn around and leave.
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you were eating at the dinner table with your family while listening to your parents talking about the engagement.
"this is a big step for our family. being the king's father-in-law is something that not everyone can have."
"we have to prepare for the wedding! tomorrow i will go to the palace to talk to the queen."
you looked at your mother with discomfort. "could i go with you?"
"why? the queen and i will take care of everything."
"i want to see my fiancé, or i can not?"
your father coughed when he heard you. "and why did this curiosity arise?"
you frowned when you heard it. "he will be my husband, dad"
"i do not see the need to see him now"
"you will see him soon"
you threw the cutlery on your plate. "the rumors are true?"
"what rumors, sweetheart?"
you got up from the table in anger. "you will marry me off to a monster, you do not even care about me enough" you said through tears. "if you do not stop the marriage now, i will hate you forever."
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days passed and months too. there was only one week left until your wedding.
and you had not yet met your fiancé. there was nothing you could do but accept your sad fate. a hundred days ago, when your engagement became public, you looked for a thousand ways to avoid it. you begged your parents. but nothing worked.
now only one week to go.
right now you were looking at the neighbourhood from your window, you had nothing to do and you were grounded. according to your mother, you liked a boy and that's why you didn't want to get married. a stupid reason.
you looked down and saw your favourite book. ¨pride and prejudice¨
so you were never going to have a Mrs. Darcy?
you heard three knocks on your door, you rolled your eyes knowing it was your mother.
your mother came into your room with several maids. you frowned, was there any more measurements to be taken for the wedding dress?
"you will wear your best dress tonight because we are going to dinner with the queen's family."
you got up from your seat in confusion. "will ni-ki be there?"
"of course, y/n" your mother said while she grabbed your hand and forced you onto the stool. "make it nice and quick, we do not want to give her a bad impression of my daughter."
after various measurements and adjustments, you were wearing a pink dress with a small jacket knitted to the dress. your hair was down this time, according to your mother because it looked sexy on women, however, you had a small part of the front tied at the back. you wore gold earrings and white gloves that reached up to your elbows.
and after several hours, you were in the carriage with your little sister in the carriage.
"can you please stop?" you murmured as you saw your mother in front of you pinching your cheeks.
"you must look amazing for your husband"
"he is not my husband"
"yet"
you sighed and looked at the palace in the distance. although it wasn't your first time there, you could tell it was getting bigger and bigger.
suddenly, the carriage stopped and the doors opened. you got out of the carriage with the help of the guard.
you weren't supposed to be there, that wasn't your place. someone else should. you thought about fainting, running, killing yourself, anything but being there.
"lady bauer, the queen awaits you" said the guard. your mother ignored him and climbed the stairs to enter the royal palace.
you chased after her and the guards opened the big palace gates. once they entered, your mother grabbed your arm.
"you will not say anything against the marriage, you will nod to everything the queen says and once the prince arrives, you will look him in the eye."
you separated from your mother as you looked around the palace, you had only been there twice before, on your debut and your older sister's debut, however, that night it looked different. lonely, fearful. or maybe it was just you. you weren't even thinking clearly anymore.
"i do not want any complaints tonight" said this time your mother to your younger sister. "if all goes well, maybe you can marry into his family too."
suddenly, the doors at the back opened and you could see a long table and the queen sitting at the end of it.
they entered it and approached the queen. "your majesty, it is such a honor being here with you" your mother said with a bow.
you swallowed and walked up to her and imitated your mother. "your majesty" you stood bowed, waiting for the queen to give you permission to get up, but she did not. you felt your hands trembling, and it wasn't long before you broke out in a cold sweat.
"you are so beautiful" she said, touching your chin, forcing you to look at her. "you are the perfect woman for my child"
of course you were the perfect woman for his son, who else would want a monster for a husband?
"my daughter is so excited for her wedding, your grace" liar.
"she must be, as the princes of france and spain, the dukes and high lords of europe will be coming."
"they will have a prosperous and happy future, your grace"
"of course, i will be looking forward to my grandchildren." said the queen, looking at you fixedly. you, feeling her gaze, tried to smile, although you do not know if it was a smile or a grimace.
she wanted grandchildren. this can´t be your future.
behind your back you heard the door open. "oh, they coming"
you turned around slowly and bowed. your heart was beating fast. you heard several footsteps and looked up while bowing.
you saw all the princes enter with their wives. you saw the heir heeseung enter with his wife, prince jay and prince jungwon and his other brothers.
but you didn´t see prince ni-ki.
wait.
that tall man... you knew him. he was the low class one who smeared mud on you months ago. what was he doing there? was he working for them? then why was he going in with them? why was prince jake patting him on the back? why did he have expensive clothes?
why was he approaching you?
you straightened up and looked up as he stood in front of you. even though you've only met him once, he hasn't changed. had an indifferent look on his face and seemed unsurprised to find you there.
to your surprise, he bowed to you as he took your hand and kissed it. even though you had your glove on, you felt his lips perfectly.
"lady y/n bauer"
you didn't take your eyes off him, and he didn't take his eyes off you either. why was he kissing your hand?
"lady y/n, i present to you prince ni-ki"
you were going to faint, this could not be possible. you looked at the queen with confusion.
"prince ni-ki?"
"yes darling, he is handsome, is he not?"
you looked at the prince and lowered your gaze with pity. "yes, your grace"
you had disrespected prince ni-ki, you had smeared him with mud and even thought he was low class. he would make your life impossible in marriage.
after talk with the queen, your families and you were seated at the table, eating. it was probably the best food you have ever tasted in your life, but you couldn't enjoy it as you felt your fiancé's gaze on you.
you couldn't help but feel ashamed, you had disrespected your husband, a member of the royal family! what would become of you?
you heard the cry of the queen to your left. "that is my favourite music"
you paid attention to the music and heard that it was a slow song. you couldn't understand how it was her favourite song if there were better ones.
"your grace" your mother said "if you want you can dance with my daughter to get to know each other better"
you looked at the plate nervously. ni-ki couldn't accept, he hated you.
but he got up and came over to your side, placing his hand in front of you, hoping that you will accept. you stared at ni-ki, you didn't know what she was doing. was she making fun of you or why she hadn't already cancelled the engagement?
"with your permission, your majesty" you said standing up as you accepted his hand.
he took you to the centre of the room and placed his hand on your back. you couldn't even hold his gaze, unlike him. you could feel his gaze staring into your soul.
fortunately, he was the one leading the dance. you weren't a bad dancer, but you couldn't even move on your own.
"where is the girl who stained all my clothes?" he murmured in your ear.
you closed your eyes as you felt his voice. unlike that day, his voice were raspier and deeper.
"i want to apologize, your grace. i was no think-"
"i am not bothered"
you open your eyes and you looked at him.
"you knew me that day, didn't you?"
"yes"
you closed your eyes angrily. he had seen you cry, he knew it was because of the marriage, that day had been announced.
"cancels the wedding"
"excuse me?"
"you saw me cry that day about the wedding, you knew i did not want to get married and you still followed the wedding."
the prince gave you a turn, but before that, you saw him roll his eyes, which made you even angrier.
"do you think i wanted to get married? like you, i was forced to get married too."
you didn't believe him, he had enough authority to stop it.
"you are a monster, your grace"
you heard him let out a wry laugh. "do you want me to cancel the wedding a week away?" you noticed her ironic tone. "alright, we can say that i am a monster or that i mistreats you, or that you have another man. tell me, lady bauer, which of these three will people believe?"
suddenly, your anger vanished, it was clear what people would believe. whether your husband was a monster or an abuser, it didn't matter, it was your duty to put up with him. the other rumour could ruin your reputation and that of your family. you couldn't let that happen.
"exactly" you heard in your ear.
you looked him in the eye, you couldn't marry him, that wasn't your dream. you didn't want to have children with a man you didn't love, you didn't want to spend what was left of your life with him.
you narrowed your eyes, trying to find out what your fiánce was thinking, but his gaze was cold and distant.
even if you stared at him all night you couldn't figure out what was going through his mind, or what his intentions were. unlike him. you could feel your gaze looking into your bones. you knew perfectly well that he knew what was going through your mind.
you were an open book to him.
"magnificent!" you heard the cry of the queen.
the song was finished.
you bowed a little to the prince and moved away from him to sit at the table.
there was nothing you could do to avoid the wedding. you had to accept your fate.
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your tears were ruining your make-up, but you couldn't help it. as of today, your life was over.
you did not even feel pretty.
"lady bauer, please, stop crying" said one of your maids.
you wiped the tears from your cheeks and sighed as you looked at yourself at the window. the guests were arriving, some faces you recognised, others you didn't.
they would be talking about the wedding for months, plus it was taking place in one of the most beautiful cathedrals in the country. and most importantly, prince ni-ki will show his face for the first time.
you knew the consequences of this, many will tell you how lucky you are to marry a handsome young man, and a member of royalty on top of that. but you never wished for this.
"you are excelent, lady bauer. you look like a princess"
you looked in the mirror and saw your make-up, it was normal but your cheeks were a bit red as well as your lips. your hair was tied back but curly fringes were falling over your face and shoulder
"do i?"
"you are the only one deserving of the title of princess."
you bit your lower lip as you looked at your ladies through the mirror. "you will still be with me, won't you? you won't leave me alone next to that monster"
"we will not, lady bauer"
"you will have a loving and prosperous marriage"
you sighed as you listened to her and got up from your chair to climb onto the stool. your maids started to take off your dressing gown. you weren't going to lie, the most fun was choosing it, it was the first time you saw and wore these types of dresses.
the dress was white and pompous, with long sleeves and a small neckline and the veil was down to your knees. at least you liked something.
you heard the door open as you got down from the stool.
"leave"
you sat in the chair as you watched your mother sit next to you.
"i have something to tell you, darling"
you raised your eyebrows in surprise.
"tell me, mom"
"in addition to getting married at the altar, you have to do something important to make it official" she gave a nervous laugh. "you must consume it"
you frowned as you listened to her.
"what do you want to mean?"
you saw how he stood up and grabbed your hands, you repeated his action.
"you have to sleep together."
"but..."
"it is getting late, all the guests are downstairs." she said, dragging you towards the exit.
suddenly, all the confusion you felt a moment ago was replaced by fear and nervousness.
you saw your father in the distance with the bouquet of flowers. it was happening.
"i am proud of my daughter" he said handing you the bouquet.
you smiled uncomfortably as you listened to him as you watched the gates. Everyone inside that room was waiting for you.
"everyone, lady bauer"
you watched as the gates slowly opened.
your father took you by the hand and forced you to walk down the aisle. you saw the guests, many familiar faces were slowly judging you. as all of them were jealous of you, none of them were happy for you. and neither were you.
you looked straight ahead and could see your fiancé.
he was handsome.
he was in a black suit with his hair styled in the back, and he was staring at you. lie, every time you approached him, you could tell that his beauty was unreal.
did you know that lady whistledown was going to be talking about her beauty for months to come.
when you arrived in front of him, you felt a slight squeeze on your right hand, which forced you to look away from him and back at your father.
"take care of her" your father said to ni-ki.
"always" he said bowing slightly to take your hand and kiss it..
liar.
you knew what he was doing, he was being romantic in front of people, he wanted to have a positive reputation. you were not going to fall for their dirty games.
you smiled falsely at him as you turned to the priest.
"dear beloved, we are gathered to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. it is said that marriage hath in it less beauty but more of safety than the single life..."
so, this was to be your life from now on? the prince will be the man who accompanies you to your deathbed?
you felt his hand grasp yours to remove the glove. the prince's hands were warm, unlike yours. you saw how the gold ring went over your index finger. it fit you perfectly.
"...in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amén. i now pronounce you man and wife"
your legs were shaking, this was not the future you wanted. you couldn't accept it.
you turned around to hear the applause behind you and you held your now-husband's hand. he led you to the exit and you could see the carriage, quickly jumped in and threw the bouquet on the ground.
"look what you have done! i will live an unhappy life by your side"
"i feel the same way"
"you do not understand! you are a man, you can choose any woman and she would be delighted. why you choose me?"
"stop acting like a child, you are a princess now"
you let out a wry laugh as you listened to him. you could feel the tears on your cheeks.
"i do not care if i am a princess now. i want my freedom, i want to fall in love, i want-"
"you are privileged and do not realise it. you want freedom? i will give you that. you want fall in love? that would never happen even if you were married to me. if it had not been me, it would have been a duke of great age. in your position as a woman, you would never experience it by choice."
"you do not understand, your grace"
you watched as ni-ki came up to you and wiped your tears with a handkerchief. you stopped breathing at the sight of him so close.
"let's make some rules"
"rules?"
"i will never touch you unless you do not want me to. to society we will be a happy couple, but in private we do not need to talk to each other."
you nodded and watched as he walked away from you. you looked out of the window and saw that you were already arriving at the royal palace.
"rumours about you exist" you cleared your throat and lowered your gaze. "they say that you are always in brothels, you last for weeks without going out. mother told me that in brothels you get drunk and you do bad things. maybe you kill people inside? gamble a lot of money? I do not know, but i do not wished a husband to do these things"
you looked up and saw the prince with a frown on his face. "i have never been to such places"
"but rumours exist for something, or i am wrong?"
"no one outside the palace knew me until today."
you frowned as you listened to him. you didn't trust him. how could you trust him after hearing the rumours? he was a monster.
"of course, your grace"
"you do not believe me, do you?"
"why should i believe you?"
"because you are my wife, and i expect the same sincerity from you"
you swallowed as you listened to him. now you were his wife and he was your husband.
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you didn't know how many hours you had been on your feet, you didn't know how many congratulations you had received, let alone how many times you had danced with your husband.
but there you were, sitting at the royal table on the high dais, sitting with the princes and kings as you watched the guests dance.
"do you want to retire?" you heard in your left ear. you looked at ni-ki with surprise. you looked into his eyes with confusion.
you felt overwhelmed and uncomfortable to the point that you wanted to lock yourself up for days in your quarters.
you nodded your head and the prince looked away and took your hand to stand up. you repeated their action.
you saw how the music stopped and all attention was now on you.
"i am honoured that all of you are present at my wedding to my now wife, princess y/n. thank you all for coming" your husband helped you down from the platform and you both approached the door.
you felt uncomfortable seeing how everyone was congratulating you -for the millionth time- and bowing to you. this was not you.
as you left the room, you let go of my hand and grabbed your dress, nervously. now what?
"today we will sleep in the royal palace, tomorrow we will move to ours and you will be the mistress of the house." ni-ki said, crossing his hands behind his back.
"my princess" said a familiar voice behind you. you turned and looked at your ladies-in-waiting. "we have to prepare you"
"for what? the wedding is over" you said in confussion.
you saw how they approached you. "princess, let us take you to your chambers"
they said, taking your hand, forcing you up the stairs.
once they arrived, they began to remove your dress in a hurry, leaving you alone in your dressing gown.
"you must look stunning for your wedding night" she said, untying your hair and starting to comb it with the comb.
"it is not big deal" you murmured.
you heard a knock on the door, and seconds later you saw your husband in the mirror.
"your grace" they said bowing.
"leave"
once they were alone, you got up from your chair and walked over to the bed.
"we have to sleep together"
"no need, i will spend the night in another room."
"we have to sleep together to be a real marriage" you said, raising your voice. "that is what my mother said"
"i will not force you to do anything, if you do not want me to, i will not. not your mother, you." he said in a gentle tone.
you frowned when you heard it.
"what are you talking about?" you said lying down on the bed. "it is just sleep. i slept with my older sister, it is not that important."
for the first time, you saw an expression on ni-ki's face, an expression that was both confused and mocking.
"what exactly did your mother tell you?"
"i do not understand, your grace. she should have told me something else?"
you saw ni-ki approach you while taking off his shoes.
"rest, i will explain you tomorrow"
"fine" you said as you turned your back on him and wrapped the blanket around you. "i hope you do not touch me when i sleep"
you didn't get any response from him, you just felt the bed sink beside you.
it was probably the worst night of your life, feeling ni-ki next to you was not very pleasant for you. you only slept for two hours at most, but when you woke up, ni-ki was no longer beside you. you got up and approach your mirror to start combing your hair. you looked to your right when you saw a large book on the desk.
you took the book and put it on your lap.
how to consume marriage?
you opened the page and began to read.
you were horrified.
so this is what your mother meant? it was madness. how could a person of their own free will do that?
you looked at the graphics and tried not to groan in disgust. you couldn't do that with anyone, least of all ni-ki.
"please, lord. save me from this marriage." you said, closing the book and getting up from your chair.
your life is over.
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multific · 1 year ago
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A Proof of Love
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Jason x Reader
Summary: Jason just couldn't look away from you.
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He watched in complete awe as you held your baby in your arms.
The little boy, born a couple weeks ago, had him worried.
He helped you deliver the child, and Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't extremely anxious.
He was also said to see how his son resembled him more than Jason hoped.
The young boy although wasn't as deformed as Jason himself, Jason still felt guilty.
But much like with your husband, the little boy didn't scare you at all.
Jason watched as you lifted him into your arms for the first time and you cried.
He misunderstood at first, preparing himself for the worst when you simply said: "My beautiful little boy."
And since that day, Jason never wanted to stop watching you with your son.
Every day, he knew he had to leave and look around the camp, but he found himself going back to the bunker earlier than usual.
Jason never felt happier.
To hear your giggles or the soft snores of your son.
This time, he found you with the baby lying on your chest as you sat in the chair.
Your hand running up and down his little back as he slept soundly.
You smiled at Jason when you saw him enter the room.
"He tired himself out. He was crying. I think he was missing you." Jason walked over, he knew he had to do something, he just wasn't sure what.
You stood up and handed him the baby.
Jason sat down into his chair as now he had the baby.
"I love seeing him with you." you said as you watched the two with a smile. "I can tell he loves you very much, you are really good to him."
Jason wanted to say something, tell you that he was amazed every time he saw your son with you. He wanted to say how much he adored the way you sang to him. He wanted, but he couldn't.
And yet somehow, you understood.
"I think, since he is a combination of the two of us, and we love each other so much, he got it from us. He got our love for each other and so, he loves us just as much. Does it make sense?"
Jason nodded.
It did.
It did make sense.
The little boy was a proof of your love, and he loved you two just as much as you love each other, if not more.
Jason held out his other hand to you and you understood immediately.
You went over to him and sat in his lap, his free arm wrapped around you as he now held you both.
You laid your head on his chest, your let out a sigh as you felt quite sleepy now. It also didn't help how Jason was running his hand up and down your back.
You moved your arm around his neck and placed a kiss on his mask.
"I love you very much, Jason."
He knew.
He wanted to say it back, he desperately wanted to.
"L-love." he ended up saying and you smiled.
You understood.
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ˇAO3ˇ
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exhaslo · 1 year ago
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Corruption
(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)
Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?
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Five months before D-Day
It was quiet. Something nearly unheard of in the city of Nueva York. Not even a whoosh of wind or a click of a heel could bring noise to this silent room. Especially not after the vulture of the lab had demanded everyone's silence.
You sat in the corner of the lab, quietly tapping against your tablet. You could not even hear another's breathing. That is how powerful the lead of this lab was when he demanded silence. That was how powerful-
"Miguel?" You whispered lowly.
Miguel O'Hara, otherwise known as Mike, due to his father's pestering nicknaming. Miguel O'Hara was the son of Alchemax's CEO, Tyler Stone, and the smartest scientist in the corporation. He was a man of power, and a man to be feared.
"This better be good, (Y/N)" He said with a hiss.
Oh, how you loved it when your name rolled off his tongue. If only he would have said it a little nicer. You raised your head from your tablet, looking ahead at the scene before you. A man, strapped onto a metal table with lights and strange liquid being entered into his blood. A twisted science experiment that never ended well.
Sometimes you questioned your job. You questioned how you found yourself seated as a secretary, recording each horrible experiment Miguel did. This was not for the faint of heart. You started working for Alchemax about two years ago thanks to a friend who helped you out of college.
You met Miguel a year ago, when you were assigned to be his personal assistant. Since, apparently, everyone else refused to take the job. Once you did your first report with him, you immediately found out why, but that wasn't going to stop you.
"According to my report, the subject purposely ate a peach before agreeing to this test." You explained.
"So?"
"So, the patient is allergic to peaches and is about to go into shock in a matter of minutes now." You huffed.
"Shouldn't affect the procedure."
Oh, how sometimes you wished you could enter Miguel's head and wonder what sick and twisted mind worked in there. Miguel was fascinated with genetic splicing. He always had a new test subject on his table once a week. He wanted to learn how to manipulate their DNA.
However, each experiment always ended in failure and death. The body count Miguel had was enough to lock him up a hundred times over. The man had not a single shred of humanity in him. It was always about the experiment.
"Begin,"
You rolled your eyes, wishing you could stop all of this. You had begged for a way to find the light in Miguel. How could someone so handsome be so evil? It almost made you sick the amount of times you had wet dreams about your monster of a boss.
"Another failure, sir. Perhaps we made a mistake-"
"I never make mistakes." Miguel hissed as he watched his now deformed monster patient lie dead on his table, "Get him out of my sight! Now!"
Right as you started to fill out your report, you noticed the patient's stomach start to inflate. You furrowed your brows before yelling out to everyone that the body was going to pop.
Your efforts were for not. Within the second, everyone in the room was covering in disgusting blood and body parts. You had wanted to throw up, but you did your best to hold it all in. Miguel was already throwing a fit about his lab being dirty, you didn't want to add to the mess.
----------
Once you were all cleaned, you made your way back to your office. You still had to finish your reports and send them over to Miguel for review. Miguel always demanded perfection. It was amazing how long you even lasted as his assistant. According to everyone, you were the more insane one.
"Oh, Miguel," You muttered, spotting the tall man in your office. Miguel lazily looked at you,
"Took you long enough," He spat. You placed your tablet down,
"Remember that time I told you that being a female requires more shower time?" You said with a smirk. Miguel scoffed as he placed himself onto your work couch, "Not even a smile," You huffed.
"Get working,"
"Yes, yes, oh chosen one." You teased once more.
The only thing that you could collectively agree on was that you were in love with the mad scientist. Giving Miguel a head massage, you stared down at his gorgeous face. You had been working with Miguel for a year. You knew what he liked, what he didn't like and how he worked.
It was safe to say that you were probably the only person in this whole building who understood Miguel. If only he wasn't evil. You would totally asked him out on a date long ago. Each passing day, you hoped that these feelings would go away.
"(Y/N), do my shoulders too," Miguel whispered in a low and sweet voice.
You folded far too easily. Doing what he asked, you knew that Miguel was using you. You had to be blind not to see that, but shit, you couldn't help it. That, and you physically could not quit your job. Both Miguel and his father made sure that no one would quit.
If you'd try, you'd be drugged.
Perhaps one day, you could bring this place to justice. You wanted Miguel to see the error of his ways. If there was any way to change Miguel to see the light, you would. Of course, taking Alchemax down was going to have to be the first step.
But, that was just a fleeting dream.
--------
Miguel inhaled deeply as you worked on his tense muscles. The only thoughts coursing through his mind were his experiments. How they could have been done differently. Perhaps he needed a different breed of test subjects.
"Let's resume our experiments with spiders," Miguel said with a low groan as you pinched just the right spot. He heard your small whine and scoffed, "We do this every other month."
"I know and you still torture me with it!" You cried softly, moving his to hair. Miguel closed his eyes, enjoying the massage,
"And as usual, I let you pick the next creature to study."
"A seahorse?"
Miguel resisted a chuckle since his first thought was getting males pregnant. How amusing that experiment would be, yet also horrifying. If he were to do that, then he would truly live up to his name as a mad scientist.
You had some dumb and ridiculous ideas. You weren't as smart as the rest of them and Miguel liked that. You were good for him to have around. Someone to remind him that there were those who were just dumb naturally. Of course, he could never say that to your face, or you would start crying.
"Like last time," He whispered ever so softly.
"Hm? Are you thinking rude things again?" You asked with a huff, gently pulling against his hair, "I can always stop this."
"But you won't." Miguel hummed and lazily opened his eyes, "Just be ready for tomorrow. I don't want another disappointment."
Getting himself ready to leave, Miguel fixed up his lab coat before giving you one last glance. He knew that you were attractive. Hell, he had to force his ignorant coworkers to get back to work since all they did was talk about wanting to date you.
Perhaps in another universe, where Miguel wasn't obsessed with his experiments, he would date you. Stepping out of your office, Miguel knew full well what he was doing. He got a rise knowing that he was keeping you all to himself.
Call it villainous, but Miguel enjoyed being selfish. That's how he always got what he wanted. Entering his private office, Miguel's eyes sparkled as he saw a case full of spiders.
"I'll make the perfect specimen, this I swear." He said with a wicked smirk.
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You squirmed in place, not ready to deal with today's experiment. You hated spiders. You wanted nothing to do with them, but Miguel loved them. He was so fascinated about the great hero age and about Spiderman.
Slowly making your way inside the lab, you gasped as scientists dashed past you. Everyone was running around in a panicked frenzy. Wondering what was happening, you gasped as you saw Miguel shaking with anger.
His spider enclosure was knocked over.
You wanted to jump and scream, but you knew that would only anger Miguel more. Hesitantly, you approached Miguel to try and distract him. As you did so, you felt something bite the back of your neck. You flinched and slapped your neck, praying that it was a mosquito.
You bit your lower lip, spotting a spider and nearly cried. Quickly shaking the foul creature away, you hurried to Miguel's side and gently tugged on his sleeve. Miguel hissed as he turned towards you violently,
"WHY AREN'T Y-Oh, (Y/N)," He growled. You were still biting your lower lip, glancing away from him,
"I know now isn't the best time, but why don't we-"
"Whatever it is, let's go while these fucking IDIOTS find my spiders," Miguel roared in anger.
You just nodded, leading Miguel out of the room as you quietly prayed for your fellow coworkers. Miguel was not going to let them rest until all of his spiders were found...including the one you just murdered.
"Why don't you tell me what you were going to work on while we go to lunch? I think a meal break would help," You suggested, tapping away on your tablet. Miguel stroked his hand through his hair, cussing lowly in Spanish,
"Sounds like a plan."
You smiled as you led Miguel to your lunch destination. You were proud to say that whenever Miguel was going to have a meltdown, you were able to calm him down someway or another. Call it talent, but you loved being reliable.
However, that talent seemed to be failing you now. You couldn't keep focus during lunch and Miguel seemed to be getting annoyed. You weren't sure what was happening to you, but your body felt like it was on fire. Could it have been from the spider bite?
"Sorry, Miguel...I just...need to..." You whispered before collapsing.
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Miguel was growing irritated as he watched you waver in place. You were fine just a moment ago. If there was one thing Miguel hated, it was when someone lost interest in his conversation. This had never happened to you, so why now?
Right as you stood, you immediately came tumbling down. Like instinct, Miguel caught you and noticed that you had a fever. A small scoff escaped his lips as he carried you out of the restaurant and back into his company car.
"Take us to (Y/N)'s apartment. Fool got herself sick,"
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Next Chapter
@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content
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kyunniebuns · 3 months ago
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˗ˏˋ Entry : 047 - Sung Jinwoo Assassin Au Part 2 ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
‼️[tw: gore, extreme violence, sadistic Jinwoo]‼️
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part 2♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ Behold, The Emperor of the Dark Hours Returns] ¡! ❞
His name is like a prayer to the devil, a single whisper of his title and everyone would pale upon the mention.
He was the faceless monster of the underground, the lord who rules in the shadows.
Stand in his way and you are guaranteed a spot six feet under.
It's mercy if your death is but a single bullet to your head. Jinwoo's sadism is, after all, ruthless. Corpses of his victims were usually mangled or their heads bashed to the point of unrecognition.
A skull crushed into smithereens, brain juices oozing out of the deformed head— Sung Jinwoo was ruthless beyond human sense.
The Association doesn't know who this little serial killer is running ammock. Even their efforts to work with the police isn't working.
In the end, they had no choice to give up.
While Jinwoo? Jinwoo himself is having a field day on his end.
How long has it been since his blood had been pumping? He can't really recall himself.
Murdering monsters seemed to make him feel alive again, as debauched as it is— He honestly loved it.
He still accepts some assassination jobs on the side, but mostly he's just going into gates.
Jinwoo had long mastered the system, he's maybe an S-ranker now for the first few months he had gotten into this world.
Since he's just an E-ranked, he had lots of restraints on him. But did it matter? No.
Being able to face beings twice, thrice, quadruple of his size— It caused a thrill in his body that he cant really describe.
It's addictive, the rush of adrenaline into his blood felt gratifying.
Jinwoo knew it himself that he is a monster, but can he do anything about it? He's over 80 now atleast, all his life he's been fighting and killing.
The art of war is his true calling, as twisted that is— It's true.
But unlike then he now has his family. His mother may be in deep sleep but he also has his adorable baby sister that he missed dearly.
And now that he has them back Jinwoo isn't one bit hesitant to protect his lifelines.
But now it seems that a little bastard has decided to ogle over his precious little sister.
Jinwoo is no fool when it comes to people stalking around him and his home. It's one of the most important things he needed to hone in order to be an effective assassin.
So when he knew something up, he isn't going to let it slide any second further.
{....}
Crawling into the alleyway, the man heard that if he finds a certain door he can get into the apartment building. He already knew Jinah's apartment number.
He just wanted to say hi, nothing else.
Just a simple hello, he only wants to say hello. That's all there is to it really.
As he fumbled around on the doorknob next to the trash bins— He suddenly feels something yank his hair back.
He curses, groaning as the back of his head hits the wall.
"You motherfucker" He snarls, his eyes glaring up at the sight of a hooded figure lighting a cigarette. "You son of a bit— Ack!"
"Did I tell you to talk? Can't you see I'm lighting my cigarette?" Jinwoo asks, pressing his heel on the bastard's shoulder.
"What the hell did I even do to you, huh? You fucking jackass?" The man curses, attempting to move away but failed as Jinwoo remained unmoving while blowing out a coud of smoke.
"I've seen a lot of fuckers like you in my youth" He says boredly, "Of the thousand of heads I've embedded a bullet on, 80% of the targets are sick perverts ogling over things they shouldn't be drooling over."
He continues, playing a dagger with his hand before promptly stabbing it on the man's thigh. Jinwoo covers his mouth with his gloved palm to muffle the cry, unamused as he started started sweating and sobbing.
"Should've known that perverts like you still exist even here, I guess I became too happy go lucky huh?" Jinwoo scoffs, as he pulls his fist back. "Don't worry, I'll make sure my kids gobble your corpse up the moment I'm done with you.
{....}
"Oppa, welcome home!" Jinah beams as she sees her brother come in late while she was snacking on a shortcake her brother bought yesterday. "You out late again, were you seeing a girl?"
At her teasing, Jinwoo only shakes his head and smiles, he approaches his little sister and ruffles her hair up— Causing a whine to come out of her lips.
"No, just went out for a walk," He says gently as if he didn't pummel someone to death just minutes earlier and fed his corpse to his shadows. "Don't stay up too late, you have school tomorrow."
"I'm not a little kid!" Jinah playfully swats his hand away and stomps to her bedroom with his shortcake before stopping midway. "Oppa? Can you get more shortcakes tomorrow, please?"
"Pfft," Jinwoo shakes his head, smiling as he did so. "Alright, off you go"
He watches his baby sister's eyes glimmer sweetly before hiding back into her room.
Jinwoo's heart felt... Tingly. In a gentle and sweet way. The feeling of having someone greet him when he arrives home, the feeling where he knows someone is waiting for him to come back— It felt nice.
He'll protect this peace.
Until he can figure out a way to wake his mother up.
Jinwoo will continue to protect this home, and even after she wakes up— He'll make sure this home of his will be safe and sound.
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꒰ 🪼 A/N: I just want this out of my hands please, I'm sorry that the plot is sloppy and rushed fjsglm,rlwef. I just genuinely want this out of my hands. ꒱
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ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
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cattermelons · 2 months ago
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previous ➸ next | beginning
Oh dear, young, idiotic King Nikomachos II, son of Demosthenes of Mycenae. Or, rather some smaller provincial kingdom of north-western Lakonia, to rather generalise, from which his great Eurypontid house needed to expel him; with a reign that proves as just as trivial and hedonistic as he. Powdered in rouge as an effeminate leukochrōs, Nikomachos, deformed and ill-bred, possibly a bastard of helot whisper and beheld among five elder sisters, the boy’s kingship was a jest among all the Peloponnese behind closed doors. Yet, in his Kastro Koiláda Chalkou, the scrutiny of the Ekkelisa could not reach him and his whore-bride to be, Eurynome, for the luxury and the splendour of Dionysos and Demeter’s sweet ecstasy were irresistibly intoxicating. For who has time for leading trade routes and waring territory when the pig has only just been carved?
so, what is this? i actually am not sure yet, will it be gameplay, will it be story? we will find out at some point, but i just desperately wanted to play with the late bronze age because as an ancient history and linguistics major, it is my duty. i have always been deeply in love with my hellenistic greco-roman history and thought it would be quite fun to delve into a period i am not as familiar with with the Mycenaeans, to see what i can learn. also considering the beautifully accurate amount of cc clothing for this era, particularly by @clepysdra which i feel the classical age is lacking in among historical cc compared to the bronze age. BUT in speaking of accuracy, those that noticed i referenced the Eurypontid house of the diarchic Spartans, the Ekkelisa and the names of my sims themselves, for the sake of my own enjoyment, i WILL be snatching names for funsies with no relation to their historical origin, but i do want to try my best to make this accurate to Mycenaean culture/dress/relgion, etc. but i am still learning about this fascinating time. i also want to give the BIGGEST praise and thank you to @kyriat-sims for her absolutely beautiful early civilisation save that she’s created, as well as the build featured in this post (which you can find HERE and HERE) as although i tweaked the interior to my manic over-cluttered taste, the castle shell itself is done by her and it’s so brilliant <3
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novaursa · 1 month ago
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Between Pride and Fire (flares)
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- Summary: It was a challenge of the hunt that drew the lion to you, but it was your fire that made him yours.
- Pairing: targ!reader/Jason Lannister
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Previous part: stolen crown
- Next part: crossroads
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @punk-in-docs @barnes70stark
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From Fire & Blood, as recorded by Grand Maester Gerardys, with additions from the fool Mushroom.
The Pyre of Visenya and the Black Queen’s Coronation
On the eleventh day following the death of King Viserys I Targaryen, Dragonstone was shrouded in grief and fire. The stillborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen—named Visenya by her mother—was prepared for the flames, her tiny form wrapped in crimson silk embroidered with the sigil of House Targaryen. Grand Maester Gerardys wrote of the somber ceremony:
"The princess, despite her grief, stood tall as a queen should. The babe’s deformities were concealed beneath her wrappings, though whispers of her dragon-like features could not be stilled. Some claimed the child’s fate was punishment from the gods, others blamed the strain of betrayal, for word of Aegon’s usurpation had caused her labor to come too soon. Yet no curse could ever compare to a mother’s loss, and Rhaenyra’s tears fell as freely as the fire consumed the body of her little Visenya."
Mushroom, always eager to embellish such tales, recounts that the Queen’s sister—Y/N Lannister, née Targaryen—stood at her side, hand in hand, as Ser Jason Lannister and their eldest daughters, Leona and Aemma, looked on. The grief of the moment, according to Mushroom, was punctuated by fire and vengeance. “The pyre lit not only the babe’s remains, but the war itself,” he quipped.
The Arrival of Ser Erryk and the Crown of Viserys
It was on the evening of Visenya’s pyre that Ser Erryk Cargyll of the Kingsguard arrived at Dragonstone, having escaped the treacherous court of King Aegon II. He came to the Painted Table, weary and mud-caked, carrying with him a chest that contained the crown of King Viserys I Targaryen. It was the same crown worn by Jaehaerys the Conciliator, the true symbol of Targaryen rule.
Grand Maester Gerardys recounts the event in detail:
"Ser Erryk, sworn shield of the late king, fell to one knee before Princess Rhaenyra. His voice shook as he spoke: ‘I could not save your father, my queen, but I bring you his crown. It belongs to you by all the laws of gods and men.’ He then placed the crown upon her brow, and at last, the realm had its queen—Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen, rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms."
The coronation took place in the Hall of the Painted Table, with the lords and knights sworn to Rhaenyra kneeling one by one. Among the first were Ser Jason Lannister and his daughter, Lady Leona, whose presence at Dragonstone had grown all the more significant. Mushroom—ever the sly observer—claimed that as Jason bent the knee, he quipped to his wife, “Lions do not kneel easily, my love, but for you and your sister, I’ll make it look regal.” Whether this was true or not, history does not record.
The Betrothal of Prince Jacaerys and Lady Leona Lannister
Following the coronation, Rhaenyra made her first formal decree as queen. The betrothal of her son, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, to Lady Leona Lannister was announced, uniting House Targaryen and House Lannister in a powerful alliance. The decision came as no surprise to those who had observed the growing affection and respect between Jacaerys and Leona, though Jason Lannister’s reluctance had long been whispered of.
Gerardys writes:
"Lady Leona stood beside her father, her golden mask gleaming like the sun itself. When Queen Rhaenyra spoke of her betrothal to Prince Jacaerys, the young woman bowed her head in acceptance, her voice calm and clear as she swore to honor her duty. It is said that Prince Jacaerys looked upon her with admiration, his face alight with quiet joy."
Mushroom, however, could not resist a bawdier telling: “Though Jason Lannister grumbled like a stormcloud, his daughter stood proud, as fierce as a lioness in the dragon’s den. And mark my words—she’ll wear that crown as easily as her mother wore Jason in the hunting woods all those years ago. A steadfast union, they say, for the Lord of Casterly Rock and his lady, who still rumble their chambers like the very dragons of Dragonstone.”
Mushroom’s allusions to the infamous hunt that celebrated Aegon II’s second nameday—where he claims Jason and Y/N first took liberties with one another—have been widely dismissed as typical exaggeration. Yet, even those who dismiss the fool’s words cannot deny that the union between the Lannister lord and the Targaryen princess remains as resolute as ever.
Aemma Lannister and the Claiming of Silverwing
On that same day, while plans were made to send word of the queen’s coronation to allies across the realm, an event of unexpected joy took place within the caverns of the Dragonmont. Young Lady Aemma Lannister—third-born child of Jason Lannister and Y/N Targaryen—had wandered toward the great fissures in the mountain where unclaimed dragons made their lairs. Among them was Silverwing, the aged companion of Queen Alysanne, who had long gone riderless since the queen’s death decades earlier.
Grand Maester Gerardys records the event with wonder:
"The girl, scarcely thirteen years of age, approached Silverwing with a boldness that could only be born of dragon’s blood. She spoke no command, nor offered bribes of food—only words whispered softly into the dragon’s ear. To the astonishment of all who bore witness, Silverwing lowered her great head, allowing the girl to climb atop her back. It was a sight out of legend—the daughter of a lion astride the queen’s dragon, the past meeting the present in fire and awe."
Mushroom adds his usual flair to the tale: “Aemma spoke the dragon’s name like it was an old friend, or so they say. I’ll wager her mother wept with pride, and her father swore loud enough for the whole of Westeros to hear—whether it was joy or terror, I’ll let you decide.”
Thus, within the span of a day, fire and grief were met with moments of strength and renewal. Princess Visenya’s death, Rhaenyra’s coronation, the betrothal of Jacaerys and Leona, and Aemma’s claiming of Silverwing all marked the beginning of a new chapter in the Dance of the Dragons. The Black Queen now wore her father’s crown, her claim made plain for all to see.
And though grief and fury still burned in her heart, those fires would fuel the war to come.
The Westerlands and the Return of Loren Lannister
While Queen Rhaenyra consolidated her power at Dragonstone and prepared for the looming war, the Westerlands stood firm under the golden lion of House Lannister. With Lord Jason Lannister remaining at Dragonstone alongside his wife, Princess Y/N Targaryen, their eldest son Loren returned to Casterly Rock to secure their lands, accompanied by his younger siblings—Tyland, Daena, Rhaegel, and Rhaelle—as well as Baela and Rhaena Targaryen and the young Targaryen princes, Aegon and Viserys.
Grand Maester Gerardys writes:
"The sight of Loren Lannister returning to the Rock astride his dragon Morghan was one of triumph and burden both. He bore the weight of responsibility far beyond his years, yet he carried it with quiet resolve. Alongside him rode Baela Targaryen, a sharp and willful girl, whose silver hair caught the sun like a blade’s edge. Between the two dragons—Morghan and Moondancer—the skies above the Westerlands were guarded with a ferocity that gave even the most daring of foes pause."
At Casterly Rock, the return of Lord Tyland Lannister—Jason’s twin—was met with quiet relief. Having fled King’s Landing under the cover of night after Ser Erryk freed him, Tyland quickly fortified the Rock, organizing defenses and ensuring the gold of the Westerlands remained under Lannister control.
The Clashing of Loren and Baela
It was not long before rumors began to spread of the frequent bickering between Loren Lannister and Baela Targaryen. The two, though often at odds, formed a formidable partnership when duty called. Gerardys notes their dynamic in his typically diplomatic style:
"Young Lord Loren carried the weight of his father’s absence with the pride of a lion, though some said his seriousness was tempered by the fire of Baela Targaryen. Where Loren sought order, Baela brought boldness, and their arguments were often as fierce as their loyalty to one another. Yet when it came to matters of defense, the two worked with a singular purpose—like the twin heads of a dragon. Together, they secured the borders of the Westerlands with dragons above and steel below."
Mushroom, as always, offered a bawdier account: “The lion and the dragon fought like storm and fire, but mark me—there’s love brewing in those battles. Baela’s sharper than any sword Loren wields, and the boy knows it. If the war doesn’t wed them, I’ll eat my hat.”
Whether such feelings existed remains a matter of speculation, though their bond was undeniable.
The Mischief of Young Tyland Lannister
Among the children at the Rock, none proved more troublesome—or more entertaining—than young Tyland Lannister. Named for his uncle, Lord Tyland, the boy was as quick-tongued and sharp-witted as his father, Jason.
Lord Tyland himself was said to have bemoaned the boy’s antics on more than one occasion, grumbling to his stewards: “It’s like having Jason back again, except this one’s smaller, louder, and far less inclined to listen.”
Young Tyland took great joy in testing his uncle’s patience, often playing pranks that disrupted council meetings and causing headaches for the stewards of the Rock. Despite the mischief, even Lord Tyland could not deny the boy’s cleverness, remarking once, “He’ll either be the salvation of the Rock or its ruin, and I pray to the gods for the former.”
The Bonds of Daena, Rhaegel, Rhaelle, and Rhaena
Meanwhile, the younger children—Daena, Rhaegel, and Rhaelle—formed a strong bond with Rhaena Targaryen, whose calm and nurturing demeanor made her a beloved presence among them. Gerardys describes their time together with fondness:
"The young ladies of House Lannister were often seen alongside Rhaena Targaryen, playing in the sunlit courtyards or walking the walls of Casterly Rock. Rhaena, with her quiet grace, took to them like an elder sister, teaching Daena the art of embroidery, calming Rhaegel’s boundless energy, and holding Rhaelle’s hand as they watched the skies for dragons. These moments, though fleeting, brought warmth to an otherwise somber castle preparing for war."
Dragons Above the Westerlands
The presence of dragons in the skies above the Westerlands was both a deterrent and a warning. Loren’s dragon, Morghan—a mighty beast with midnight-black scales and even darker wings—often patrolled the borders, his roar echoing like thunder through the valleys. Baela’s Moondancer, smaller and more agile, flew alongside him, her pale green scales shimmering in the sunlight.
Mushroom, in his usual tone, remarked: “The Greens would sooner piss themselves than face two dragons guarding the gold of Casterly Rock. Loren’s beast could devour a man whole, and Baela’s Moondancer could dance around a storm of arrows. Between the two of them, the Westerlands might as well be ringed in fire.”
The Westerlands Hold
Under Loren’s leadership and Baela’s fire, the Westerlands remained secure. Lord Tyland fortified the Rock with gold and steel, young Tyland caused chaos wherever he went, and the bonds between the Lannister children and the Targaryen twins grew stronger with each passing day.
It was a time of uneasy calm, as though the entire realm held its breath. The Rock stood tall, dragons guarded its skies, and whispers of love and loyalty danced through the halls. Yet all knew that this peace would not last, for war was inevitable—and when it came, the lions and dragons of the West would be ready
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The early morning light seeped into Dragonstone’s great hall. The air smelled of salt and smoke, carried on the winds that blew in from the narrow sea. You stood beside Jason near the main gates, your daughters Leona and Aemma clad in their traveling cloaks, their dragon-riding gear fastened snugly. Their dragons—Leona’s fierce Vaelora and Aemma’s newly bonded Silverwing—waited outside, wings stirring impatiently as the sound of waves crashed below.
Jason’s jaw was set, his face as hard as the stone walls surrounding you. It had taken hours of whispered arguments the night before for him to relent, and even now, his reluctance weighed heavy in the silence.
“Do you understand what you’re being asked to do?” Jason’s voice broke the stillness, his sharp green eyes sweeping over both of his daughters. “This is no trivial task. You will be flying across hostile skies, carrying the weight of our queen’s words. Oaths may have been sworn, but men’s loyalty fades as quickly as morning dew.”
Leona nodded, standing straight and proud in her crimson cloak, her golden mask gleaming faintly. “We understand, Father,” she said calmly, her voice unwavering. “Queen Rhaenyra has entrusted us with this task. We will not fail.”
Beside her, Aemma shifted slightly, her softer expression betraying her nerves. Yet, there was resolve in her eyes as she spoke. “Silverwing and I will fly swiftly. We’ll be safe.”
Jason turned his gaze toward you then, searching for some last refuge of support. “Tell me this doesn’t sit ill with you,” he muttered, his voice low and clipped.
You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Of course it does, Jason,” you whispered. “They are our daughters. But we swore our loyalty to Rhaenyra, and they are dragons. It is their duty, just as it is ours.”
Jason exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He turned back to the girls, his voice softening slightly. “Leona,” he began, “the Riverlands are fractured. Lord Grover Tully is an old man. You must be careful whom you trust—do not mistake smiles for loyalty.”
“I will be vigilant,” Leona replied firmly. “Vaelora and I will remind them of the oaths they swore.”
Jason’s gaze shifted to Aemma then, his expression betraying the slightest flicker of worry. “And you,” he said, his tone gentler, “the Iron Islands are no place for a girl. The Greyjoys respect strength and power—do not let them see your fear.”
Aemma lifted her chin slightly, her face determined. “I won’t let them, Father. Silverwing will fly high and proud. They’ll know the might of dragons.”
Before Jason could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall as Jacaerys Velaryon strode forward, his own riding leathers fastened, Vermax waiting for him in the courtyard. He nodded to you and Jason before turning to the girls.
“Leona,” Jace said, offering her a faint smile. “We’ll meet at the Trident when your business in the Riverlands is done and mine in the Vale. From there, we’ll fly north together.”
Leona dipped her head slightly, though her voice carried a teasing edge. “Try not to keep me waiting, Prince Jacaerys.”
Jace smirked faintly but turned to Jason then, his face serious. “Lord Jason,” he said, “I promise you—I’ll see both your daughters safely to Winterfell. They will not fly alone.”
Jason studied Jace for a long moment, searching his face. Finally, he gave a slow, reluctant nod. “You’d best keep that promise, boy. If any harm befalls them, you’ll answer to me before you answer to the queen.”
Jace inclined his head respectfully. “I understand, my lord.”
Aemma stepped closer to you then, her face slightly pale. “Mother,” she murmured softly, “will you… be here when I return?”
You cupped her face gently, brushing her curls back as you smiled faintly. “Of course I will, my sweet girl. I will be here, and I will be waiting.”
Leona approached Jason, her back still straight and unflinching as she placed a gloved hand on his arm. “We’ll make you proud, Father.”
Jason stared at her for a moment, his features softening as he reached up to grip her shoulder. “You already do, Leona,” he said quietly. “You always have.”
Outside, the dragons stirred impatiently, their calls reverberating through the courtyard like thunder. The time had come.
Together, you and Jason walked with them to the gates, where Jace, Leona, and Aemma stood beside their dragons. Jace climbed onto Vermax first, his movements confident and fluid. The young dragon shifted beneath him, its green-bronze scales catching the light as it stretched its wings.
Aemma approached Silverwing, her small form dwarfed by the ancient dragon’s shimmering silver scales. “Easy, girl,” she whispered, placing a steady hand on Silverwing’s neck before climbing onto her back. The dragon rumbled softly in response, lowering herself to make it easier.
Lastly, Leona strode to Vaelora, the white dragon standing tall and proud as smoke curled from her nostrils. She regarded Leona briefly, almost as if awaiting her approval, before bowing low. She climbed into the saddle, her crimson cloak flaring behind her like a banner.
Jason’s hand found yours, his grip tight as he watched his daughters prepare to leave. “It feels like I’m letting them fly straight into the jaws of wolves,” he muttered.
You squeezed his hand gently. “They are dragons, Jason. The wolves will fear them.”
Jace raised his voice as he looked back at Jason one last time. “We’ll return to you with news, my lord,” he called.
Leona glanced back briefly. “And victory,” she added, her voice carrying clear and strong.
Jason said nothing, though his face was hard as stone. He simply lifted a hand in farewell, his grip on you never faltering.
With a final look, Jace gave the signal. “Fly!”
The dragons launched into the air with a thunderous force, their wings slicing through the sky as they rose higher and higher. Vermax, swift and agile, led the way with Silverwing trailing close behind, her silver wings shimmering against the pale blue morning. Vaelora brought up the rear, her red markings a sharp contrast to the others, her roar echoing across the cliffs of Dragonstone.
You and Jason stood in silence, watching them vanish into the clouds, their figures growing smaller until they were little more than specks on the horizon.
Jason finally spoke, his voice low and tight. “We’ve sent our daughters into the storm.”
You nodded, unable to look away from the sky. “And they will fly through it, Jason,” you said softly. “Because they are dragons.”
And in that moment, you knew it to be true. Whatever lay ahead—oaths broken, wars waged—your daughters would endure. And they would return, their fire unquenched.
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The wind howled through the stone halls of Dragonstone, carrying with it the salt-heavy scent of the sea and the distant cries of dragons. You moved through the dim corridors, your thoughts still lingering on the sight of Leona and Aemma disappearing into the clouds alongside Jacaerys. Their dragons had roared into the sky, powerful and defiant, but now the silence they left behind felt heavy.
You found Rhaenyra standing at the edge of the courtyard, staring out toward the horizon. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, though whether it was against the chill or the weight of yet another goodbye, you couldn’t tell. She had just said farewell to Lucerys, the youngest of her boys now sent to the Stormlands. His small dragon, Arrax, had taken flight not long before, leaving her to watch the empty sky as though he might return at any moment.
When she heard your footsteps, Rhaenyra turned slightly, her face pale but composed. “He’s gone,” she said softly, though the words seemed to weigh her down. “Luke is so young still, younger than Jace when he first took to the skies alone.”
You moved to stand beside her, your gaze following hers toward the endless sea. “They’re strong, Rhaenyra,” you replied, trying to reassure her—though the words felt as much for you as for her. “They are their mothers’ children.”
Rhaenyra let out a soft breath, a shadow of a smile playing on her lips. “And their fathers’,” she added quietly, though a flicker of doubt crossed her face. “Luke has Jace’s bravery, but Arrax is small compared to Vermax.”
You placed a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. “He’ll return, Rhaenyra,” you said firmly. “And so will ours.”
Rhaenyra looked at you then, her gaze softening. “And how did Jason take it?” she asked knowingly, though there was a faint amusement in her voice.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Not well,” you admitted, half-jesting. “Not well at all. I thought for a moment he might lock Leona and Aemma in the cellars to keep them grounded. He’s probably still cursing himself for agreeing.”
Rhaenyra chuckled faintly, a sound that was welcome against the quiet gloom. “I can imagine. I never thought I’d see Ser Jason Lannister so… unraveled.”
You tilted your head, smiling as you studied her. “Do you remember the first time we met him?”
Rhaenyra’s eyes lit with faint mirth at the memory, and she turned to fully face you, her arms dropping to her sides. “Oh, I remember,” she replied with a knowing smile. “The great lion of Casterly Rock, strutting about the Kingswood as though he’d already conquered it. He was so full of himself, I thought his pride might suffocate him.”
You laughed, covering your mouth as the memory came flooding back. “He tried to impress us both during the hunt for Aegon’s nameday. I thought you’d take a sword to him after the second jest about lions outrunning dragons.”
“And I might have,” Rhaenyra said with a smirk, though it quickly softened. “But he surprised me. I never took Jason Lannister for a family man back then. To see him now… with you, with his children—it’s almost hard to believe.”
You sighed, smiling fondly. “He’s changed,” you agreed softly. “Or perhaps he was always this way, and we never cared to look close enough.”
Rhaenyra tilted her head slightly, studying you with an appraising eye. “And yet you’ve given him seven children,” she teased lightly. “You must see something in him that no one else ever has.”
You shook your head with a laugh, though your cheeks warmed faintly. “More than I ever expected, I suppose. He’s stubborn and vain, but he loves fiercely.” You paused, suddenly grinning despite the somber day. “Would you believe he wants more?”
Rhaenyra blinked, clearly caught off guard. “More children?”
You nodded, the incredulous smile still tugging at your lips. “I told him we already have seven—seven, Rhaenyra. That’s more than enough to fill Casterly Rock twice over. But he just shrugs and says there’s always room for more lions.”
Rhaenyra barked out a short, surprised laugh, the sound echoing faintly in the open air. “More lions?” she repeated, shaking her head. “Has he forgotten how war looms over us all? How will he manage to protect you and a nursery full of babes?”
“I asked him the same,” you replied, still smiling despite the weight of the conversation. “He only said it’s because of the war that he wants more. He fears for us, for our children. I think he believes filling the halls of the Rock with more family will somehow keep us all safe.”
Rhaenyra’s expression softened again, though this time with understanding. “It is the curse of fathers, I suppose,” she murmured. “Daemon would have said much the same, once. That our bloodline—our children—are what anchor us to this world, even when everything else is ripped away.”
You nodded quietly, glancing back toward the skies where your daughters had disappeared not long before. “They are everything,” you agreed softly. “And Jason knows it as well as we do.”
Rhaenyra stepped closer, her hand reaching out to take yours. “They will return,” she said again, her voice low but steady. “Jace will look after them both, as he promised. And when this war is over, the skies will belong to dragons once more.”
You squeezed her hand in return, the weight of her words grounding you as much as they pained you. “Let us hope the gods are listening.”
The two of you stood there together, the salt wind tangling in your hair and the roar of the waves far below filling the silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, both consumed by your thoughts—your children, your husbands, the realm teetering on the edge of war.
But as you looked toward the empty horizon, you reminded yourself of the truth you both shared. You were dragons, and dragons did not falter.
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The Painted Table was once again surrounded by men of influence and power, their faces set with grim determination as they listened to Daemon Targaryen. Lords, knights, and bannermen loyal to Queen Rhaenyra filled the chamber—faces familiar and new, united by oaths, blood, and the looming specter of war. Jason Lannister stood to Daemon's immediate right, his arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes sharp and calculating as they followed the Rogue Prince’s every move.
The air in the room crackled with tension as Daemon, leaning over the Painted Table, ran his gloved hand across the carved Riverlands. His voice was low and authoritative, every word carrying the weight of unspoken action.
"When the time comes,” Daemon began, his violet eyes narrowing as they swept the gathered lords, “we will need to take Harrenhal.” His finger tapped hard against the fortress carved into the wood. “It is the key to the Riverlands. Without it, we cannot hope to rally the lords who owe us their swords. Securing Harrenhal will give us the space to host our armies and strike out where we need to. A foothold.”
A murmur ran through the room as the lords considered the words. Harrenhal was a name that carried weight—once a seat of great power, now a cursed ruin that loomed over the Riverlands like a great black shadow.
Lord Staunton spoke first, his tone cautious. “My prince, the Riverlands will be slow to act unless their safety is guaranteed. Harrenhal is poorly garrisoned, aye, but its walls are as strong as any in Westeros. It may not hold the numbers of a great army, but whoever sits behind its walls will not give them up lightly.”
Daemon’s lip curled faintly, the ghost of a smirk. “Let them try,” he said softly, though the threat in his voice was unmistakable. “The dragons of House Targaryen will remind the Riverlands where their loyalty lies.”
Jason shifted slightly at Daemon’s right, nodding in agreement. “The Riverlords are practical men. Once they see dragons shadowing their skies, they’ll bend the knee readily enough.” His voice carried the easy confidence of a seasoned lord.
Daemon looked to him, a rare glint of approval in his violet eyes. “Precisely, Lord Jason,” he said smoothly. “The Vale will hold true, and the North is loyal. Once Harrenhal is ours, the Riverlords will have no choice but to come to us. And when they do…” His hand swept south across the table, lingering near King’s Landing, “we will tighten the noose around the usurper’s throat.”
There were murmurs of agreement around the table—low voices of men who had seen their share of war. Jason’s expression remained composed, though his green eyes were alight with focus.
Daemon straightened then, turning toward the assembled men. “I will fly to Harrenhal first, with a small force to hold the castle once it is taken. Caraxes will remind the current garrison of their folly. Lord Jason will fly on dragonback with me.”
Jason’s brows furrowed faintly, his head tilting slightly as he regarded Daemon. “Wait,” he said, his voice breaking the flow of conversation. “Did you say we will fly to Harrenhal?”
Daemon’s gaze flicked toward Jason, unreadable but unbothered. “I did.”
Jason frowned, uncrossing his arms. “I have no doubt Caraxes would make quick work of Harrenhal’s defenses, but I assumed you meant to fly there alone, Prince Daemon. My place is not on dragonback—I’ve armies to organize and—”
“You will come,” Daemon interrupted coolly, ignoring Jason’s protests with the dismissive air of a man used to having his way. “A Lannister riding at my side will send a message to the Riverlords. You are Rhaenyra’s commander, Jason. Not some lord hiding behind castle walls.”
Jason blinked, visibly taken aback at Daemon’s assumption. He opened his mouth to speak again, his voice hardening. “Prince Daemon, I may be a commander, but I am not a dragonrider. I have not even taken the saddle with my wife on —”
Daemon ignored him entirely, already turning his attention back to the map as if the matter had been settled. “With dragons in the sky and the Riverlords rallied beneath us, we will send the Hightowers crawling back to Oldtown where they belong.”
Jason’s jaw twitched, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as he exchanged a quick glance with you, who stood to the side, observing the scene. You offered the faintest shrug—one that said, Daemon does as he pleases.
The room had fallen silent, the lords and knights watching the exchange with interest. Jason cleared his throat, his voice clipped as he spoke again, louder this time. “Prince Daemon, I cannot fly with you to Harrenha. Maybe I can follow with our armies—”
Daemon cut him off again, this time with a sharp, pointed look. “If the time comes, you will do what needs to be done, Lord Jason.”
Jason stared at him for a moment, his frustration thinly veiled beneath a forced smile. “And if I refuse?”
Daemon’s smirk returned faintly, though his tone remained cold and unyielding. “Then I suppose I’ll find another commander willing to ride with me into fire and blood.”
The tension in the room was palpable, though it broke with a chuckle from Lord Celtigar, who muttered something about “dragonlords and their tempers.” Jason’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he said no more, stepping back and folding his arms again.
The meeting continued as Daemon laid out strategies for what would follow Harrenhal’s fall—plans to hold the Riverlands, to rally allies to Rhaenyra’s cause, and to prepare for the inevitable march toward King’s Landing. But you could see the lingering frustration on Jason’s face, his green eyes flickering toward Daemon more than once as the prince spoke.
When the lords were dismissed, Jason leaned toward you, muttering under his breath, “If he thinks I’m taking the skies like some silver-haired daredevil, he’s lost his wits.”
You bit back a smile, resting a calming hand on his arm. “He’s testing you, Jason,” you replied softly. “And you’ll rise to the occasion, as you always do.”
Jason snorted faintly, though the irritation didn’t fully leave his voice. “He can test all he likes, but if I end up in a dragon’s saddle with him, you’ll find me praying to the gods to save my arse.”
You laughed quietly, squeezing his arm. “Well, then we’ll make certain you’re prepared before the time comes.”
Jason sighed heavily, shaking his head as he muttered, “The things I do for Targaryens…”
You smiled, though the weight of Daemon’s words remained with you both. If war was to come, every piece on the board would be forced into motion. And whether Jason Lannister took to the skies willingly or not, the realm would soon know that fire and blood had come for the Greens.
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The solar of Dragonstone was awash with late afternoon light. You were seated beside Rhaenyra at the long table, surrounded by a small group of noblewomen—the ladies of lords who had declared for the Queen. They were deep in conversation about supplies, the tending of the wounded, and which maesters should be trusted when the inevitable bloodshed began. It was the quiet work of war, the often overlooked discussions that kept an army from falling apart.
You nodded politely as Lady Staunton mentioned the need for healers skilled with poultices, though your focus wavered as you caught movement from the doorway. Jason entered, his stride purposeful and his usual air of smug confidence softened into something more playful. His golden curls caught the sunlight, his green eyes shone faintly as they sought you out from across the room.
You arched an eyebrow in silent question as he approached. Rhaenyra paused mid-sentence, glancing up with mild curiosity. “Your lord husband comes,” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice. “What mischief could he be plotting now?”
Jason stopped just behind your chair, resting a casual hand on its back. “Ladies,” he greeted smoothly, nodding toward the small assembly with a charming smile. “My apologies for the intrusion. Might I borrow my wife for just a moment?”
You looked up at him, lips curving faintly into a smile. “Borrow me?” you echoed, puzzled. “For what purpose, Jason?”
He cleared his throat, shifting slightly under the weight of the assembled women’s gaze. “A private matter,” he said smoothly, though his tone faltered at the end as if already realizing the uphill battle before him.
Rhaenyra smirked faintly, clearly amused. “A private matter? Then say what you need, Lord Jason. We are all allies here.”
Jason shot Rhaenyra a glance that was somewhere between pleading and exasperated before looking back down at you. “It’s… not something for polite company.”
Your brows furrowed, bewildered. “Are you unwell? Have you been summoned?”
“Not quite.” Jason’s smile flickered, his green eyes darting toward the others before returning to you. “I merely thought you might be in need of… rest, my love. A reprieve.”
You tilted your head at him, still not following. “I’m quite fine, Jason. There’s much to discuss—”
“I assure you,” he interrupted with a low, almost conspiratorial voice, “it is you who deserves a reprieve, darling.” His fingers lightly brushed the back of your chair, his grip almost pleading. “Some time alone. Away from… chatter.”
The ladies around the table exchanged amused glances and polite coughs to hide their smiles. Rhaenyra’s expression was entirely unhelpful, her smirk deepening as she leaned back in her chair. “Are you asking your wife to abandon her duties, Lord Jason?”
Jason’s jaw tightened slightly, though he forced a smile, his tone still light—if strained. “Of course not, Princess. But even the most dutiful wives require… a moment’s rest. I am concerned for her well-being, that is all.”
Your confusion only deepened as you regarded him, not missing the faint flush in his cheeks. “Jason, what are you trying to say?”
For the briefest moment, Jason faltered, his confidence replaced by something bordering on defeat. “I am trying to say, my love,” he muttered under his breath, though still loud enough to carry, “that I wish to spend time with you—alone.”
The solar went silent for a heartbeat before Rhaenyra broke into soft laughter, her shoulders shaking faintly as she turned toward you. “Seven hells, sister, your husband is a subtle one.”
You blinked, realization finally dawning as warmth crept into your cheeks. Jason looked caught between embarrassment and resignation, his green eyes narrowing faintly as though blaming Rhaenyra for his predicament.
“Well, you could have said that, Jason,” you teased lightly, though your own face was warm now.
“I thought I had,” Jason grumbled, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as the ladies around the table tittered behind their hands.
Rhaenyra’s grin was positively wolfish as she regarded him. “And yet, for all your silver tongue, you’ve only managed to confuse us all. Perhaps you’ve lost your touch, my lord.”
Jason let out a sharp exhale, his pride clearly stung. “Very well. I can see when I’m outnumbered.” He shot you a look, a mix of fondness and defeat. “When you find yourself in need of better company than this, you know where to find me.”
You bit back a laugh, shaking your head. “And where will you be?”
“Anywhere but here,” Jason replied with a pointed glance at Rhaenyra, before turning on his heel. “Perhaps I’ll find Daemon. At least he doesn’t mock me to my face all the time.”
As he strode out, the laughter followed him faintly, the golden lion of Casterly Rock momentarily outmatched. Rhaenyra watched him go, shaking her head with mirth as she turned back to you. “He really does love you, doesn’t he?”
You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest despite your amusement. “He does,” you murmured softly. “And I wouldn’t have him any other way.”
Rhaenyra smirked again, her eyes glinting. “Be careful, sister. He might return with a bottle of wine and a battalion of excuses.”
You laughed, leaning back in your chair as you shook your head. “At least he tries.”
And though Jason had left the room sulking, you knew well enough that his pride would recover quickly. For no matter how defeated he seemed now, the lion always roared loudest when he got his way—and you had little doubt he’d try again before the day was done.
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Jason Lannister stormed into the chamber where Daemon and several of the loyal lords of the Queen were gathered around the Painted Table, his boots echoing off the stone floor with each heavy step. He wore his irritation plainly, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he dropped himself unceremoniously into a chair near Daemon.
“Seven bloody hells,” Jason muttered, raking a hand through his golden curls. “I’ve fought wars with less resistance than trying to have a moment alone with my wife.”
Daemon, who had been listening to Lord Celtigar drone about supply routes, glanced up with a faint smirk. His violet eyes glimmered with amusement as he leaned back, one brow arched. “Turned away by your lady wife, were you?” His voice carried that ever-present edge of mockery. “You’re losing your touch, Lannister.”
Jason scowled, pouring himself a cup of wine from the flagon set nearby. “Not all of us have the luxury of stealing wives off their husbands, Daemon,” he shot back pointedly, though there was little venom in the remark. He took a long drink, slamming the cup back onto the table with unnecessary force. “I swear, a room full of women can cut a man down quicker than swords ever could.”
A low chuckle rippled through the room as the lords exchanged knowing glances. Lord Staunton grinned, shaking his head. “Perhaps you ought to take your woes to the battlefield instead, my lord. The enemy is far less crafty.”
“Or find solace in the company of men,” Lord Darklyn suggested, earning laughter from the others.
Jason’s eyes narrowed as he looked toward Daemon. “This is your fault, you know,” he grumbled, pointing a finger in mock accusation. “If you didn’t summon us here to sit around tables and sharpen daggers, I might actually get to enjoy the spoils of my marriage.”
Daemon’s smirk widened. “Your misfortunes are your own, Lannister,” he replied, his tone light, though his gaze flickered back toward the map with growing focus. “Besides, there will be time enough to take your pleasures when this war is won.”
Jason sighed dramatically, slouching back in his chair, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his lingering humor. “If I live to see the day.”
“Let us hope you do,” Daemon replied dryly. “We’ll need men like you for the fight ahead—assuming you can pry yourself away from the comforts of the Rock.”
Jason opened his mouth for another retort when the doors to the chamber swung open suddenly, the sharp creak cutting through the room’s low laughter like a blade. A young messenger stumbled inside, his face pale and breath ragged, as though he’d ridden straight through the night. The jovial mood evaporated at once, the air turning heavy as all eyes turned to him.
“Speak,” Daemon commanded, his tone sharp and unforgiving.
The messenger fell to his knee, clutching a small, weathered scroll in one hand. “A message, my lords,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “From Storm’s End. From Lord Borros Baratheon.”
Daemon’s eyes narrowed as he strode forward, his boots echoing ominously against the stone. He plucked the scroll from the messenger’s shaking hand, breaking the seal with one quick motion. Silence gripped the chamber as he read, his face hardening with every word.
Jason leaned forward, his earlier sulking forgotten. “What is it?” he asked sharply.
Daemon’s grip on the parchment tightened, the veins in his hand visible beneath the skin. Slowly, he lifted his head, his violet gaze dark with fury and grief as he looked around the room. His voice, when he spoke, was as cold as the grave.
“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”
The words fell like a thunderclap, the silence that followed suffocating. Jason blinked, the shock etched plainly on his face. “Dead?” he echoed, as though he had not heard correctly.
Daemon’s jaw clenched as he continued, his voice steady despite the rage building beneath the surface. “The boy flew to Storm’s End to speak with Lord Borros Baratheon. But Prince Aemond was there before him, riding Vhagar.”
The mention of the ancient she-dragon sent a chill through the room. Lords exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the words sinking in.
Daemon’s eyes flickered toward Jason, but it was not mockery in his gaze now. It was the cold fire of vengeance. “Aemond chased Lucerys into the storm. The boy never returned. His dragon, Arrax, was torn apart—what remained of their bodies washed ashore this morning.”
The chamber fell into chaos. Gasps, murmurs, and curses filled the air as the lords reacted to the news. Jason swore under his breath, rising to his feet. “The boy was no warrior—he was a messenger,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “They slaughtered him like a lamb.”
Daemon said nothing for a moment, his hand crumpling the scroll as his face turned to stone. “This will not go unanswered,” he said, his tone soft but deadly. “Aemond Targaryen will pay for what he’s done.”
Jason’s fists clenched at his sides as he looked toward the Painted Table, where Storm’s End loomed ominously beside the sea. “Rhaenyra must know,” he said quietly, the words feeling heavy in his throat. “The queen must hear this.”
Daemon nodded once, sharply. “She will.” His gaze flickered to the messenger, who was still kneeling, his head bowed low. “Go,” Daemon commanded. “Get word to the queen. Now.”
The boy scrambled to his feet and fled the chamber, leaving the lords in grim silence. Jason turned toward Daemon, his voice low and hard. “This changes everything. You know it.”
Daemon’s gaze was fierce, unrelenting. “It changes nothing,” he replied coldly. “The Greens have drawn first blood. Now we will give them war.”
Jason said nothing, though his eyes burned with the same fire. He glanced toward the door, knowing that the news would soon reach the rest of Dragonstone, to Rhaenyra—to you. And though he dreaded the pain it would bring, he also knew that the realm would never forget this moment.
The Dance of the Dragons had begun. And there would be no turning back.
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The heavy silence that had fallen over Dragonstone was broken only by the soft patter of hurried footsteps as the messenger was ushered into the queen’s solar. Rhaenyra sat by the window when he entered, the afternoon light casting pale shadows across her face, though she appeared as regal as ever—calm, composed, unshakable. Or so it seemed.
You stood near the doorway with the other noble ladies, your mind still reeling from the earlier news Daemon had shared with the lords. The messenger looked pale, his hands trembling slightly as he unrolled the scroll he carried. His voice wavered as he spoke, but it carried all the same.
“A message from Lord Borros Baratheon, Your Grace,” he began, his voice faltering at the weight of his words. “Prince Lucerys Velaryon… and his dragon, Arrax… were struck down above Storm’s End.”
Rhaenyra froze. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound escaped. The faint light from the window turned her features ghostly pale, as though the blood had drained from her body entirely. She looked at the messenger, but her violet eyes seemed to see nothing at all.
“Struck down,” she repeated, her voice a whisper—a broken thing that barely carried across the room.
The messenger swallowed hard, his head bowed. “Prince Aemond was there. Riding Vhagar.”
The air seemed to thicken, as though the walls of Dragonstone had drawn closer, suffocating everyone within. Rhaenyra swayed faintly, her hand gripping the edge of the window seat to steady herself.
“Rhaenyra,” you whispered sharply, crossing the room in quick strides. You knelt beside her, one hand reaching for her trembling arm. “Sit down. Please.”
She looked at you then, her expression stricken, her eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “Lucerys,” she choked, her voice breaking. “He—he was only a boy. My sweet Luke…”
“Sit,” you said again, firmer now. You guided her gently to the chair near the hearth, her body moving as though in a trance. The other ladies began to back away, their eyes lowered, the weight of grief filling the room like a dark fog.
Rhaenyra’s hands trembled in her lap, her breath ragged as she tried to compose herself, though it was clear her composure was already shattered. “Why send him there?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I should have sent someone else. I should have—”
“Stop,” you interrupted softly, kneeling beside her as you took her hands in yours. “You did what you thought was right. Luke was strong, Rhaenyra. He wanted to go. He wanted to prove himself, as any son of yours would.”
Rhaenyra squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear slipping down her cheek. Before either of you could speak again, the door swung open with a loud creak, and Daemon entered, his face like carved stone. His violet eyes flickered between you and Rhaenyra before settling on his wife, his expression unreadable—but you saw the storm roiling beneath.
You stood quickly, nodding to Daemon as you released Rhaenyra’s hands. “She needs you now,” you said softly, stepping back to allow him space.
Daemon inclined his head faintly, though his eyes remained on Rhaenyra as he crossed the room. The other ladies, sensing the need for privacy, began to slip out of the solar quietly. You followed them, though as you reached the door, you couldn’t help but pause.
“Luke…” Rhaenyra’s voice was soft, almost childlike as she looked up at Daemon. “He’s gone.”
Daemon knelt before her, his expression softening ever so slightly, though the anger in his eyes burned like coals beneath a fire. He reached for her hand, his grip firm but steady. “He shall be avenged,” he said, his voice low but steady—dangerous. “Son for a son, Rhaenyra. I swear it.”
Rhaenyra let out a shaky breath, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks as she bowed her head. You closed the door softly behind you, Daemon’s promise still ringing in your ears.
Son for a son.
You walked down the dim corridor, your steps echoing faintly in the silence. The pain in your chest was heavy, as though Luke’s loss had struck a blow to the family you all shared. A child—a boy—gone too soon, his life stolen before he’d had the chance to see manhood.
As you turned a corner, you saw Jason waiting for you near one of the windows. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his expression clouded with both grief and anger. He looked up as you approached, his green eyes searching yours.
“How is she?” he asked quietly, though the answer was plain to see.
You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “Shattered,” you replied, coming to stand beside him. “Daemon is with her now. He’ll hold her together, for a while.”
Jason was silent for a long moment, staring out at the darkening sea. His jaw worked slightly, as though he were chewing on words he didn’t want to say. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw. “The Greens will pay for this.”
“They will,” you agreed softly, though your voice held little comfort. “Daemon has already sworn as much.”
Jason turned to you then, his face a mix of sorrow and determination. “You know what this means,” he said. “Once Rhaenyra rises from this grief, she’ll give the word. War is coming, and there will be no turning back.”
You nodded, your heart heavy. “I know.”
Jason reached for your hand, his grip firm and steady as he pulled you closer. “We’ll endure it,” he said quietly. “We’ll endure it for our children, for our family.”
You looked up at him, finding comfort in the familiar strength of his gaze. “And for Luke,” you whispered.
Jason nodded solemnly. “And for Luke.”
The two of you stood there in silence, your hands entwined as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting Dragonstone in shadow.
A storm was coming—one unlike any the realm had ever seen. And as the winds howled beyond the castle walls, you could feel the shift in the air, the first tremors of fire and blood that would consume everything.
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tobitofunction · 6 months ago
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The Pact of Fire and Ice part 7
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part5 part 6
Spoilers for the future of house of the dragon, not a 100% accurate to the book
after a thousand years it updated again
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You tighten your flight jacket around your body, "It's still not too late to stay here" Cregan said, "It's a fight of dragons, as a dragon I need to fight" you said turning towards him, he was in his armour his fur coat currently missing, he hummed and cupped your cheek,"I love your flight gear so much" he said placing his other hand around your waist, "You should walk around like this more often" he added kissing you gently, "I could say the same thing for you, the fur cloak his hiding to much of your armour" you said against his lips, kissing him again gently pulling at his locks "Don't tempt me now wife, we won't leave the bed for another week if you continue like this" he said as his lips ghost against yours,"My Lord?" a servant said gently," What is it" he said closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours," Aemond Targaryen took over Harrenhall and killed everyone within the walls" he said straightening his posture”Any word from Dragonstone?”,” They are preparing to use Aemond absent as advantage to take over Kingslanding and they want you to march as soon as possible” Cregan hummed,” Are the troop’s ready”,” Yes Lord, the Greyjoy and Manderly ships are also deployed to strengthen the sea snakes and help out to invade Kingslanding and destroy the Lannister fleet ” you turned to Cregan and patted his chest,"Well my Lord husband it's time, send worth to my mother that her army is coming" you said making the servant nod and bow before leaving. Cregan sighed and wrapped his hand around yours,"Off to war then".
You ended up deciding to ride your horse alongside Cregan. Tyraxes was flying alongside the winter wolves, high in the sky, she was just a blop in the bright white sky. “The roads are treacherous,” you said,” The north doesn’t have the privilege of the west wife, our harsh winters just keep destroying the roads so we don’t fix them, as it a waste of resources we rather put them elsewhere to good use” Cregan explained riding closer to you,” My men don’t find it a good idea to bring you along,” he said after a while,” Why not?” you questioned,” They believe you should stay in winter fell, swollen with a child,” he said softly, you sighed,” I suppose that was the deal of our marriage. I provided you with heirs in return for your help to get my mother’s crown back,” you said,” It’s different now however, our first born won’t be the Lord of Winterfell but heir to the Iron Throne,” he said,” Or daughter” you added making Cregan nod after a while,” Or daughter,” he said with a smile which you returned," I'm not bringing a child into this world until the war is over, I don't want to be pregnant while the danger of being assassinated by the greens is an option" you said which Cregan nodded at,"I agree with you on that one, also I'm scared of you carrying my heir" he said," My first wife died on the birthing bed with my son following in the days after",he said softly remembering the pain of losing his childhood love and first born child, he felt like dying in months after,"I'm scared too, losing children during pregnancy is common within my family, maester stated that each one of them had dragon like deformities, my sister had scales and a tale when she was born, I guess our blood is cursed" you said,"The Stark blood line isn't any different, I guess we can be cursed together" your cheeks heated up at that comment,"I guess we could". "My Lord it's getting dark and the men are tired" Greyjoy said,"Than we set up camp for the night".
You sat in front of the fire with Cregan sitting next to you, he was drinking some ale and talking to his men while we waited for the food to cook. You looked over your shoulder and saw Tyraxes, you excused yourself from Cregan and walked over to the large beast," Ao merbugon hāedar? (you hungry girl?)" Tyraxes lifted her head and pressed it against your body gently,"Nyke find nykeā tīkor hen ōtor syt ao hemtubis nyke kivio (
You sat in front of the fire with Cregan sitting next to you, he was drinking some ale and talking to his men while we waited for the food to cook. You looked over your shoulder and saw Tyraxes, you excused yourself from Cregan and walked over to the large beast," Ao merbugon hāedar? (you hungry girl?)" Tyraxes lifted her head and pressed it against your body gently,"Nyke find nykeā tīkor hen ōtor syt ao hemtubis nyke kivio (I find a flock of sheep for you tomorrow I promise)" you said rubbing her scaly head,"You need to teach me Valyrian" Cregan's said from behind you, one hand found it's way around your waist.While the other rubbed Tyraxes forehead," She still seems to like me which is good" he smiled,"Or tent is ready if you want to sleep" he added after a second, "I will, I just wanted to check on her, we need to find her food tomorrow, she will need all the energy when we fight the greens" you said, Cregan hummed.
You shed your riding gear and got into something more comfortable,"If you are looking to take a bath there is creek close by" Cregan said sitting down on a chair,"A creek?" you lifted a brow,"Yes, my dear wife we are off to war so we won't have our usual luxuries but you are always welcome to fly home" Cregan said,"I know what you are trying to do and it won't work, I'm coming with you. I will be in the creek....fish don't live there?" Cregan chuckled and stood up,"I protect you from the fish, I will go with you" Cregan said,"It also will stop my men from spying on you","Spying? Aren't most of them married?","Even a married man will stop to take in the natural beauty surrounding them" you licked your lips.
The water was freezing against your skin, you wrapped your arms around your bare body, you turned to Cregan and saw that he was unfazed,"Aren't you freezing?" he chuckled,"I'm a northerner darling, and you are a dragon" he said wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you closer,"Can i be honest with you?" Cregan's brow furrowed but he nodded,"I feel useless in this war so far, so many people have given their lives and I just hid in a castle for the majority, I didn't know my brother died, I didn't even know he went to battle, the same with my grandmother Rhaeny's. My mind is filled they could have been alive if I assisted them. Cregan listened carefully, his hand cupping your cheek,"You might not have fought with sword in hand but you forged alliances, you proved to the other Northern houses that your mother's side deserves their alliance when you faced your Uncle when he took our men hostage. Don't disregard yourself my dear wife" you sighed,"But they still rather have me back in Winterfell than fight alongside them" Cregan sighed as well,"That's different, men usually range wars while the women stay at home. Times have changed something I needed to realise too" he said before kissing your forehead,"You and your dragon will bring an advantage to us," he said pressing you closer to his body,”You look so beautiful, standing bare in nature” he said softly kissing your neck,”Cregan” you whispered softly,”Ever dreamed of making love in the wild” he said his fingers tracing your skin,”The men could see or hear us” Cregan hummed against your skin,”They won’t come near the river bank, I told them to stay away and for the hearing part that didn’t seem a problem back in Winterfell Princess” he said making your cheeks darken,” Than my Lord Husband, ravish me like a wolf does”
You spend days riding your horse, Tyraxes becoming more restless with each day, she was feeding of your energy , you nearly reached Harrenhall, even though Kingslanding is your goal a jab of taking it back is planned. “We will reach Harrenhall in two days time we set up camp here” Cregan explained as he stopped alongside his men, he helped you off your horse Tyraxes landed in the open space which made the ground shake a bit,” From now own I want you to ride your dragon, if Aemond is at Harrenhall by chance we need air support but if it gets to dangerous I want you to promise to fly away, back to Winterfell” he said grabbing your shoulder,” Cregan I can -“,” Promise me” he cut you off,” I promise” he nodded, caressing your cheek with his thumb gently and kissed your forehead,”My Lord your camp is set up”,”Let’s rest wife, we have long days ahead of us” Cregan said holding his hand to you.
“Aemond one eye is still at Harrenhall, we should avoid it and go around it to get to Kingslanding” Cerwyn said,” We need all the men we have to keep the city under our control”,” We are here so we should take over Harrenhall while we have the chance” Lord Bolton said leaning forward in his seat,” How would you suggest doing so? Aemond has Vaghar” Cerwyn says,” Even though, I didn’t agree with her presence first, it be to our benefit having the Princess here, she is the heir and a girl, they would assume she be hiding in the north-“,” her dragon is not even half the size of Vaghar” Lord Frey son interjected,” Tyraxes might be smaller but she is quicker and Aemond had the chance to kill me but didn’t, if we draw Aemond out on dragon back, we can surprise attack him with Tyraxes and me” I defend,” My brother promised you Harrenhall didn’t he? I thought you be eager to take it back from Greens my Lord” I said,” Than we have a plan, we take over Harrenhall beforehand we continue to Kingslanding” Cregan said and his tone didn’t leave room discussion.
I changed into my nightgown while Cregan read the letters of the Greyjoys and the Manderly’s,” Any news?” you asked walking towards Cregan,” They haven’t reached the Lannister fleet yet but they are ready and that’s all what we need to hear” Cregan said pulling you on his lap,” I need you to promise me something” you hummed and moved a piece of stray hair from Cregan face,” If Aemond tries to kill you, fly to Winterfell, Tyraxes is faster as you mentioned use it to escape if needs be” he said his hands on your belly,” Cregan-“,”Promise me” you sighed,” I promise….if I have to flee I want to make love to you, I don’t think be able to live long without your touch” you smiled
The next day you saddled Tyraxes, she gently nudged you with her snout making you smile,” Ready my girl?” you asked patting her neck,”Try to keep up with us, I know it be tempting to fly head first to confront your Uncle” Cregan said placing his hand on your waist,” I can’t believe everyone who called Harrenhall their home is dead now”,” Aemond will repent for his sins, he won’t survive to see the end of the war. He will die, but the hand he will die on is still in the stars” Cregan said cupping your cheek, you looked up at Cregan, you pecked his lips gently,” Let me help you” Cregan said helping you on Tyraxes,” Be careful and remain what you promised
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maidragoste · 2 years ago
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can you please make a Harwin Strong x reader where the reader and breakbones fall in love and get married but then the rumors about jace’s heritage start and Harwin admits cheating??? Thank you in advance
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Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader
note: sorry for taking anon to make your request, and also for not following it completely. I hope you like it 🥰🥰
If you want a part two let me know because I already have ideas 👀
Part 2
reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰💖
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
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"He is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon" announced your good sister proudly handing the baby to the king, you excitedly waited your turn to meet your nephew. The next to take the baby was the queen, you couldn't help but worry when you saw how the smile disappeared from her, you understood that your nephew had been healthy and without any deformity so you didn't understand why your friend's face suddenly seemed so concerned. It even seemed to you that Alicent was hesitating before passing the child to you.
And when you held Jacaerys in your arms, you understood why. All the emotion you felt disappeared the second you saw her brown locks on his little head. Your vision blurred and you began to blink to make any possible tears disappear. You weren't going to cry. You wouldn't make a scene. The existence of this child was humiliation enough. The boy was precious but you couldn't bear to see him anymore so you passed him on to your brother.
"Hopefully the next one looks more like Velaryon," you said with a fake smile and the room suddenly seemed cold. You were pleased to see Rhaenyra and Harwin tense up. "I suppose mother's Baratheon blood is stronger than we thought," you added, looking at Laenor. You also felt betrayed by your brother. You were sure that he also knew about your cousin and husband's affair and he was never able to tell you.
"It could also be Aemma's Arryn blood," Viserys said, and you wanted to laugh when he didn't seem to read the room. Or perhaps he preferred to feign ignorance before punishing his daughter for giving birth to a bastard.
•••••
“Is it yours?” was the first thing you said as soon as you were alone with your husband in their chambers. You didn't need to clarify what you were talking about. Harwin knew you were talking about Jacaerys.
The city guard commander thought through his answer. He didn't want to endanger the princess or his son, but from the look in your eyes he knew that if he lied to you, your reaction would be much worse. It was useless to lie to you because you already knew the truth. You knew it the first moment you saw the little prince.
"Yes," he replied "I'm sorry" He wasn't sorry about the birth of his child but he was sorry for hurting you.
You already knew the answer to your question, you just wanted to see if your husband was brave enough to admit his infidelity. You felt like such an idiot for not having seen it coming sooner…
Lie. You saw it coming only you were in denial and you turned a blind eye. You convinced yourself to believe Harwin's lies when he told you that he wouldn't come back to your chambers because he was on night watch even though you knew he couldn't have so many shifts in a row. You pretended not to hear the servants talk about the closeness between the commander of the city guard and Princess Rhaenyra. You ignored Larys and Alicent's concerns about those rumors. You ignored every red flag because you refused to believe it was true.
You had fallen in love with Harwin because he was a good man, he was attentive and loving and he made you laugh. In your head Harwin couldn't be hurting you and deceiving you in front of the whole court, your Harwin would never do that. Not the sweet man who had taken it upon himself to learn your family traditions for your wedding, not the man who whispered sweet words to you in the morning, not the man who looks like a happy puppy every time he sees you, not the man who From time to time he would bring you gifts after his patrols because according to him that bracelet or that ring reminded him of you… Not even when the princess got pregnant, he never made all those gestures or went to your bed. If he won't love you then he should have stopped doing all of that, unless he was only doing it to keep looking like a loving husband in your eyes.
"You love her?" You crossed your arms in an attempt to put on armor, you didn't want to show him how much his betrayal affected you.
You knew Harwin well and you knew he wouldn't cheat on you just for a one-night stand or just for passion. He wouldn't spoil his marriage just on the whim of the moment.
Harwin's eyes looked at you with deep sadness. He didn't want to hurt you even more but you deserved to know the truth "I love her" he admitted "I love both"
He wasn't lying. He still loved you, he could never stop loving the lovely girl he met as he helped her climb a tree to avoid a suitor. But her heart now also belonged to the princess, it had not been her intention to fall in love with her. After saving her from the incident of her wedding, he couldn't help but worry about her and he took notice of her as he seemed to have no one at court. He became close to a friend, he began to get to know what Rhaenyra was really like and he was captivated.
"Go to hell" you dug your nails into your arms, holding yourself back from punching him in the face "Now do you want to be like Aegon the Conqueror? Do you want to have two wives?" You sneered "From now on you will spend one night with me and ten with her?" you snorted.
Harwin took one of your hands and held it pressed over her heart so you could feel her heartbeat "I really love you both."
"It doesn't matter, because you already lost me" you let go of her grip and your husband looked at you with pain. At another time you would have felt sorry for him but now all you felt was pure resentment. "Please, go back to your princess and leave me alone"
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beauty-and-passion · 5 months ago
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TBOB PART 2: OF FLATLAND, EXWHYLIA AND EUCLYDIA (3/4)
Hello, everyone, welcome once again to another post about Bill’s dimension. One day this analysis will end, I promise. But today is not that day: today is the day we will talk about Bill’s family.
And oh boy if there’s a lot to talk about.
Please check all previous posts to understand this one (and the masterlist too!).
<- Previous post - Masterlist
_______________________________
PART 4: OF BILL’S FAMILY
“If you think Stan’s relationship with his family is bad, Bill’s is worse” - Alex Hirsch, NYCC 2015
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Loved and ostracized
Everyone loved me immediately and the mayor dubbed me the “best baby of all time”, made my birthday a holiday and gave out free knives. (...) Truth is I’ve always been loved and admired by all!
Of course Bill starts telling his story with a huge. Fucking. Lie.
How can I be so sure? First of all, the hyperbolic way in which he talks about his birth as if it’s the second coming of Christ. Then, all the previous points of this endless analysis.
Considering everything we have until now, I find it very difficult that Bill’s birth was celebrated by everyone. Surely his family celebrated it - if his society is similar to Flatland’s, having a regular son would’ve been enough to make them very happy.
But also… he’s just an Equilateral. And if his world has social classes based on the number of sides, then he’s from a middle class. I doubt the birth of another Equilateral was a reason big enough for huge celebrations.
Also, let’s not forget what Bill himself said in the TBOB: you should make a new reality and a meaning for yourself. Well, what if this is the reality he made? A place where he was immediately loved and admired by everyone?
_______________________________
Scalene and Euclid
Sooo… those are the names of Bill’s parents.
Honestly? They’re interesting. Even if I’m a bit weirded out by Scalene: in the only image we have of Bill’s parents (the grayed-out triangles on thisisnotawebsitedotcom) neither of them looks like a scalene triangle. On the contrary, they both look equilateral.
It’s a bit strange, you know? As if a person has “Neanderthal” as their first name. “Neanderthal Smith” or similar. Sounds strange, doesn’t it?
While speaking of Euclid, I think it’s a nice name. It’s the same name as the dimension they lived in and no, it’s not as weird as it seems: in our world, some people have the same name as the country they’re from, so it’s not so weird.
But hey, the most important thing is that we canonically have the names of Bill’s parents! We know he had parents and we know details of his relationship with them!
And this raises A LOT of questions.
Let’s start with his mother: we know she loved him, at least a little bit. She sang him lullabies and told him she loved him, despite his strange eye. So we can be sure at least one of his parents didn’t mind his deformity so much.
Also, this part in TBOB after Bill and Ford's breakdown, in which a very, very drunk Bill talks to his mom:
“I’m gonna be back from school soon, don’t forget to cut out the crust off my sandwiches or I’ll —”
I don’t know you, but to me, this sounds like the threat of a spoiled child. Something like “cut the crust off or I’ll throw a tantrum”. And yes, this implies Bill was a spoiled child - or at least, a child who considered himself above others, mother included. So yes, I can imagine him throwing a tantrum at his mother for something stupid like some crust on his sandwiches.
But again, even more questions! How was his mother towards him? Was she submissive? Was she combative? Was she ready to answer to every little whim of her son like a Flatlander Woman or did she ask for some respect? Considering how bratty Bill is, I'm more prone to believe she was very lenient towards him.
While speaking of his father, I find it very fascinating that we know absolutely nothing about Bill’s relationship with his father. We know his mother loved him (maybe to the point of spoiling him too much)… but his father? Did he care about Bill? I suppose so, considering Bill visited a doctor (unless it was his mother’s decision only, but I doubt it).
And about his job: was he a Tradesman? Bill attended school, but was school supposed to teach him about his future job too? If not, then this was up to his parents, right? Presumably, it was his father’s job to teach Bill how to be a Tradesman, a bit like in the Flatland society. If that’s the case, then why we don’t have any information about this? Why no memory at all? Bill seems to care about his father too - if we assume that the top hat he has was his father’s. So at least he cared enough to keep something of him.
Was his father a bad guy? Was he cruel? Or was he so blinded by society’s rules to torture his son and think he was doing it for his good? In that case, I would understand why he did everything he did - but beware: understanding doesn’t mean accepting. It would be a bit like Filbrick Pines’ situation: I can get the reasoning behind his actions, but that doesn’t make him Father of the Year. Maybe it’s the same for Bill’s father. This wouldn’t be the first parallel between Stanley and Bill, after all.
_______________________________
An Irregular masquerading as Regular
Time to talk about Bill’s eye.
We can safely assume Bill’s rare mutation was having his eye on the face and not on the side - which, from the Euclideans’ perspective, meant having an eye on his insides.
Now, imagine with me: you have a child and you see that your baby has no eyes. No eyes at all, not even an eye socket. I bet you would freak out, at least a little bit. You would probably send your baby to a doctor and ask if there is something they can do.
The doctor checks the baby and gives you both good and bad news: your child has eyes and they work. But they are inside his body. In his goddamn stomach.
And if all of this isn’t enough, your child starts telling you that sure, he can see a lot of things! He sees things you cannot see - no one else can see.
Now, would you say: “Oh, no problem. He can see things no one can, so he’s fine and his eyes work well”? Or would you probably freak out even more and fear your son is having goddamn visions because he’s probably dying or has a tumor or who knows what?
I can understand why Bill’s parents brought him to a doctor. And I can understand why the doctor thought the best solution was to “blind” that eye. As far as Euclideans know, there are no “stars” and there is no “above”. It’s as if someone in our world says they can see rotating hypercubes in real life. Would you think they’re perfectly fine or question if they’re insane/growing mad/getting very sick?
So yes, even if it's insane for us, from Bill’s parents' POV, giving him medicine to make him blind was for his own good. Does that make them Parents of the Year? Hell no, they were literally blinding their own son, of course it’s terrible and insane and if someone tries to do the same they should be immediately thrown in jail. But for the rules of Euclydia’s world, this was probably the best thing to do.
And personally, I ADORE the tragedy of this. The tragedy of giving something to your son that will permanently blind him, but trying to make it at least bearable - he’s still a child, he doesn’t really understand what he’s drinking, but you think it’s for his own good, your whole world think it's for his own good, so you use something silly that he likes, like straws, because this will make the medicine - the impairment - more tolerable. Uuurgh, it’s so tragic I love it.
And it’s even more tragic, if we consider that even after billions of years, even if he talks about his doctor and the medicine as something bad that wanted to “blind” him, Bill never forgot the straws. He still loves the straws he was using so much, to the point he still gave them a place in his book.
But since there’s always room on the angst train, also think that by making him blind, Billy would’ve probably stopped talking about these visions (at least, according to his parents). And if he stopped, it would’ve been easier for him to fit into society. He would’ve followed the rules and standards. He was a Regular shape after all, so if they took away that hidden-and-yet-so-present pieces of Irregularity he had, he could’ve become a respectable member of their society. One who didn’t go around, talking about weird things no one could see. Things that were against the law.
Again, it’s not me saying this, it’s Bill:
“Technically, talking about a “third” dimension was illegal in my world.”
This makes Bill’s character EVEN MORE fascinating. He could’ve been the Apostle of the Third Dimension. He could’ve spoken to everyone, because he had something of everyone - he could’ve been a bridge between Regulars and Irregulars, because he was both. He could’ve changed his world or died as a martyr.
But in the end, he chose the third option.
And we will talk about it in the next post.
See you soon with the fourth and final post on this part.
Next post ->
(How about a coffee? ☕)
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miquella-everywhere · 3 months ago
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Fr tho Marika is the worst mother ever
She gouged out the eyes of her first born and after a while couldn't even bother to look past his deformities and abandoned him in a parallel dimension to carry out her divinely mandated bloodshed but he still tried to please his mother because he loved her but at the very end realized that she didn't love him and cursed her with his dying breath, she was apparently a healer and a God on top of that but evidently did absolutely nothing to try and help her daughter who suffered from "rot-from-the-inside-out" disease from birth and did not care about her, and now with her history with the hornsent you know damn well that she absolutely loathed the omen twins and felt no remorse throwing them into the sewers
and then you have her youngest son who was absolutely terrified by the idea of becoming a God and saw all of his mothers evils for what they were but also believed that godhood was the only thing that could fix the misery she inflicted upon the world so you can only imagine the kind of toxic traumatic relationship he had with her throughout in his eternal childhood and also marikas grace sending us to murder said child
like damn what the hell
And I do not give two shits about her "my family died 😢" sob story because if anything it pisses me off even more
Like I have seen so many interpretations that Marika must have been a good person for what she did at the Shaman Village and tried to be good past that, but no.
Absolutely not.
The Shaman Village is where Marika buried her kindness and went on to commit a Genocide and one bloody slaughter after another and another and another and another and another...
Gideon says it best when he confronts us; "Queen Marika wants us to struggle unto Eternity."
Marika killed her kindness and made sure that the rest of the world would suffer alongside her, including her own children.
and yknow what?
I actually would not have minded any of this and definitely would've liked her character way more if the DLC actually went into detail about how she betrayed, murdered and stole from a pregnant woman in order to ascend to Godhood
like
yas! 👏 you go you unapologetic power hungry queen! 👏
but now with the story trailer fucking lying and the dlc doing everything to try an justify her genocidal bullshit I'm actually pissed the hell off
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moonlightazriel · 2 years ago
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Do you love me? /// Aemond X F!Reader
Summary: Ever since the accident, Aemond has been insecure about his appearance, but things get even worse when he hears those nasty words reach the ears of his future wife.
Warnings: Nothing much, just angst
Word Count: 2,2K
Notes: Okay, I was rewatching HOTD and became obsessed with Aemond again, but the difference is that this time I’m a writer and decided to give it a try on writing for him cuz why not? And yes, it’s based on that lovely scene from Queen Charlotte, who cares?
Main Masterlist
“Perhaps you should not get too close, my lady.” The man behind her warned, but she couldn’t help, her feet carried her closer to the giant animal. Its leathery nose sniffed her scent before the large dragon rested its head on the floor.
“They are fascinating creatures.” The beast’s golden eyes watched her closely as she extended her arm, letting her fingers brush slowly over the dragon’s nose. Vaghar huffed, the warm breath fanning all over her body, and she smiled as the dragon allowed her to continue.
“You think so?” Another voice, deeper and serious, sounded but she didn't bother to turn around, a hushed whisper was shared and the sound of boots sounded against the stones.
“Of course they are. And those afraid of them are fools.” She replied, and a low chuckle sounded, she liked that sound. “My father told me tales about King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, when they did us the honour to visit our family, how those beautiful creatures flew over our home.” She kept rambling. “I have been dreaming with them ever since, being so close to the stars, feeling the breeze in my face, perhaps I might ask my dear husband-to-be for a special ride, if he bothers talking to me, ever.” She turned around, regretting every word that left her lips as Prince Aemond stood before her.
“I am sure he will consider such a request from his future wife.” She felt the heat in her cheeks, slightly embarrassed for what she had said.
“Your Grace.” She bowed to her betrothed, and the Prince gave her a small smile, watching in delight as she rushed out of the dragon’s pit.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
His soon to be wife, was a true beauty, her hair was always falling in curls behind her back, she was always wearing dresses in various shades of blue to honour her house, a true born Tyrell. She had left HighGarden when the Hand suggested that the King should marry her to his second son, to strengthen their alliances, Aemond would do everything to fulfil his duties to the crown. A marriage for allies, never for love.
But as he spotted her walking quietly by her Lord Father’s side as they entered the throne room, he knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to fall in love with her, a kind, well educated and beautiful lady.
She never looked at him with disgust, always seemed rather interested in what he spoke and how he carried himself, he had caught her gaze fixed on him as the two sat by the library to read, more times than he could remember. He knew she didn’t deserve a scarred, one-eyed prince as a husband, and she was too gentle to say so, he knew deep down that she would never love him. And he accepted that, as long as he could call her his wife.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“What is it like, Lidia?” He stopped in his tracks as he heard her sweet, melodic voice coming from the garden.
“What, my lady?” The servant replied and the other woman sighed, if he closed his eye, he could see her blushing, the red tainting her face, until it reached the roots of her beautiful hair.
“The first night after the wedding!” She lowered her voice, and he heard the servant giggle. “You’re married, are you not?”
“I am, my lady. I can assure you that it’s going to be fine, Prince Aemond will take good care of you.” The reply came and he smirked with that.
“But, my lady..” A third feminine voice sounded, one he did not recognize. “Do not forget to ask for him to keep the eyepatch, you will not want to be looking at that deformed face on your wedding night.” The comment was followed by a few women laughing. His heart twisted in his chest as she didn’t say anything.
He was used to the looks, the whispers, the frowns and the ladies in court running away from him, but the idea of her being one of those people, it hurt him deeply. He left without waiting for her reply.
“You should watch your tongue.” Y/N pointed to the lady. “Or else, Vaghar might want something different for dinner, and I heard that the meat from the Stormlands’ is quite good.” She turned her back to the group, marching towards the Keep.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
She stood by the door, the fancy nightgown hugged her frame as she shivered in the cold night air. Aemond looked at her, his lilac eye glowing in the dim candle light.
“We do not have to do anything.” He simply stated. Y/N looked at him confused, with her eyebrows knit together in a lovely frown.
“We have to, it is what’s expected from us, Lord husband.” She said, walking closer to where he stood, next to the big bed.
“Duty, right.” It was all that left his mouth for the rest of the night as he laid bare with her, only the eyepatch covering his insecurities, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he touched her with adoration and worshipped her body as he made love to her. But the way she didn’t look at him, how her face would contort in something he didn’t know what it meant, this told him everything he needed to know.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“How was it, my lady?” Lidia asked as she brushed through Y/N’s locks.
“I was so scared that I could not even look at him, and Gods help me, I am still not able to walk properly, it was really painful.” She said, looking at the woman.
“It is normal, when you do it again, it will be less and less painful, until all you can feel is the pleasure growing in your belly.” Her toes curled in excitement as she thought of going to bed again with her husband.
But it died as soon as a servant handed her a note, in his fancy handwriting, he stated that the two fulfilled their duties graciously, and now she should go back to her chambers. She felt the tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, what she might’ve done to offend the prince?
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Y/N wandered alone through the halls, it’s been months since she had a proper talk with her husband, he was always too busy to be near her, so she would spend her days alone, reading, embroidering, sometimes alongside her dear sister Helaena, or having tea with the Queen.
It was in one of those afternoons that she felt something was wrong, the warmth in the Keep was too much to handle as she sipped her tea, the Queen was speaking with Helaena about the twins.
“Excuse me, Your Grace…” she said, suddenly feeling everything spin around her.
“Are you okay, sister?” The princess asked, noticing how much paler she looked, and the sweat coating her forehead.
Y/N couldn’t muster a response as the ring in her ears got too much and her body collapsed. She blinked, feeling the fresh air coming from the windows in the Queen’s room. She felt embarrassed as she noticed the Queen, some servants and a Meistre, all of them looking at her with worried eyes.
“Are you feeling well darling?” Queen Alicent asked, squeezing her hand.
“Yes, your Grace, perhaps it was the heat?” She inquired, her eyes landing on the man in front of her.
“I am afraid you are wrong, my Lady. You are with child.” The older woman smiled at her, leaning to hug her. She felt her whole body shaking, a child was a blessing, but how would she tell her husband, who doesn’t even acknowledge her, that he was going to be a father?
“This is great news, I am sure Aemond will be just as happy.” Alicent spoke, getting up and urging everyone to leave the room.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“Come in!” The Prince answered, and Y/N pushed his chambers doors open. She gasped a little when he turned to her, she barely got to see him for months, and he was just as handsome as she remembered, this time, the eyepatch was discarded and his scars and the sapphire eye were on full display, he was beautiful. “What are you doing here?” He asked, starting to turn his back to her.
“I am with child.” She blurted and he stopped, his lilac eye looking at her, she walked closer, until she was right in front of him, she grabbed his hand, placing it on her belly. “You are going to be a father.”
“That is great, I am sure the King is very happy.” He said, walking backwards and removing his hand, the smile that tugged at her lips quickly vanished at his reaction.
“What about you? Are you happy, Lord Husband?” She inquired.
“I am thankful that we were able to do our parts in this court.” It was all he said. “I am busy, you should go back to your chambers.” It broke her heart hearing that, when his own was almost bursting out of his chest with happiness. She looked at him incredulously, tears sliding down her pretty face.
“Did I do something to offend you, Your Grace?” The pain was evident in her voice.
“Not at all.” His tone was dismissive.
“Do you love me?” She inquired, stepping closer to him once again.
“What?”
“Do you love me?” She repeated, louder and firmer this time.
“I am trying to protect you.” She looked hurt, and angry.
“Do you love me?”
“I cannot….. This conversation is leading no..” She interrupted him.
“Do you love me?” The question hit him hard, of course he loved her, more than anything, but all he did was out of love for her.
“Y/N, please. Stop!” He begged, she paced around the room, breathing heavily.
“Is it because you do not believe that I could love you?” She fixed her gaze on him once again, tears falling free from her eyes. “I do.” He almost repeated the words to himself, she loved him.
He looked at her without saying a word, not knowing what to even say, but she continued.
“I love you Aemond, in fact, I love you so much that I will do as you wish.” He looked at her confused. “If you do not love me, all you have to say is you do not love me, and I will go. I will go back to my chambers now, I will stop bothering you, I will go back to my life and we can have our separate lives and I will have this baby alone. But first, you have to say that you do not love me!”
She was sobbing, while she hugged her own body, shaking, all the sadness pouring from her soul.
“You have to tell me that I’m utterly alone in this world.”
He looked at her astonished, his heart ripping in half at her confession, how alone and isolated she must’ve felt all these months, he always thought he was doing the right thing, sparing her from having to be seen by his side, his lips parted and the words left his mouth before he could stop himself.
“I am a monster, everyone knows that, I don’t deserve you, you deserve better than this.” He pointed to the scar.
“Do you love me?” She asked again, tired.
“You do not wish a life with me for yourself.” He felt the tears in his own eye. “No one wishes that.”
“Aemond!” She protested. “I will stand with you between the heavens and earth, I will tell you every day that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, that your scar doesn’t scare me, and that I love you just like you are. “Her words were so pure, honest, that his heart jumped in his chest. “Do you love me?” She asked for the last time.
“I love you.” He shouted, so loud that his throat burned. “From the moment I saw you with Vaghar, I have loved you desperately, I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, Y/N. My heart calls your name.”
He couldn’t hold himself anymore, closing the distance between the two, he held her face in his hands, pulling her closer as he kissed her, her lips tasted like salt and cinnamon, and they were so soft against him, she held him too, afraid that he would disappear, that they would go back to that torment.
“I am so sorry for everything, I wanted to be with you, hold you in my arms everyday. But I could not, what they spoke, how they looked at us.” Y/N looked at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying.
“I do not care for any of them. All I care about is you, about us, and the family we have now.” He rested his hand on her belly.
“I heard them talking, the day before our wedding, I thought you agreed with them.” He confessed.
“You what?” She raised an eyebrow. “In fact, my love, after those nasty words about you, I threatened to feed her to Vaghar.” He looked at her, smiling as she traced the scar on his face.
“Perhaps I should take you flying to compensate for the time apart. As I remember how badly you wanted that.” He offered and she smiled brightly at him.
“It will be an honour, my Prince.”
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