#my logic being i want to marry her
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moeblob · 4 months ago
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Rey, who is in my very biased opinion, one of the funniest "girls" I have because she's just a guy, truly. Like Rey is just short for Reynold because he was recruited by a a goddess to help the hero she selected and the hero is conveniently Reynold's younger brother. So he agrees to help under the condition that the goddess gives him a female body for the other world. She's like "really odd flex but whatever" and gives him a female form and he's like "you know. I can't really blame anyone but myself for not specifying 'please don't turn me into a Lisa Frank personification'."
#my characters#ya know since i draw daily idk if ill do any challenges this month#i know theres a LOT of them out there but i might hold off and do huevember as a challenge and let this month just be chill#for what its worth he only asks for a female body because his baby brother (like 10 years younger than him)#commented ONE TIME ugh its so weird to have you dote on me like this#why couldnt you have been an older sister or look less suspicious#so when sent to help his brother hes like RIGHT GOT IT GIRL TIME LIKE THE MOST LOGIC COURSE OF ACTION#then does a really good job at helping the hero and then gets abducted by the demon army and#as rey keeps challenging the demons checking on him in the dungeon (who are all very kind?) to just interrogate him already#and they just ask why would they do that? they just wanted her outta the way for a bit#cause they dont actually want to hurt anyone and then the demon lord keeps personally visiting rey and continues#to point out how she gives him a headache and how the core is different than the shell#and so then he offers to revert rey back to his original form and reynold immediately accepts#and so now hes just a guy again surrounded by v nice demons#and hes like please just be mean ive been trained to handle violence you have to stop being nice#im not used to nice ok you have to be mean or else im going to develop stockholm syndrome#and the demons are just ?? we dont .... dont know.... what that is.......... what.....#then he gets engaged to the demon lord and all is well ! he becomes the trophy husband to the demon lord#and the world is saved (it was never at risk)#i have a lot of love for the idiots in this plot#because reynold and sascha are literal husbands thinking oh no my beloved husband is only married out of convenience to meeee#and solei is the goddess who recruited him and is so mad that reynold is more of a gremlin than sascha#like why is this mere mortal somehow worse than THE DEMON LORD how in the world#and reynold runs around just adopting all of the demon army and is like yeah#ill be the trophy husband with a hundred kids and a hot 7ft tall demon husband who can change into a huge dragon#and hes really content in this role!#but for a while he does appear as rey and hates how much of a highlighter he is
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july-19th-club · 10 months ago
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harrykim and tomparis hopelessly awkward in the cafeteria what social blunders will the commit!!
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oozeandgoo-art · 9 months ago
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everyone is sooo in love with vakori on account of le is so cool and smart and deeply pragmatic and is also completely batshit insane
#oc#monochrome#sketch#velan#vakori#rocaim#rocaim and vakori are rex and taz and adder and silas's parents#adder and silas get their looks from vakori; rex and taz to a slightly lesser degree get it from rocaim#rex specifically is like a sharper clone of him. fucks velan up all the time because their personalities are completely totally different#rocaim was very like. gentle and understanding. good with kids and well-liked by basically everyone. a very effective mediator#rex is obviously none of those things lmao. every time he says something particularly insensitive it surprises her for like six years runni#anyway rocaim is in love wtih vakori. velan is in love with vakori. vakori is aro as they come but insanely pragmatic#like. ok le's based loosely off my ex. like. so le's SCARY pragmatic. so fucking cool about it everyone with a brain is specifically like#'woag oh my god le's so pragmatic im in love with her'. anyway eventually le's like 'hi rocaim. here are the objective reasons that i think#that if we got married it would mean i had better standing and more power in the organization we're both committed to. would you be#opposed to possibly getting married with me on the grounds that it would get me respect and power' and rocaim. who is already head over#heels for ler specifically because le makes these kinds of decisions and sees with this kind of logic is like. Absolutely. 100%#then for the next four years of their formal engagement people keep taking rocaim aside and being like hey... i have bad news...#...that leya you're engaged to... le's not romantically interested in you the same way you're romantically interested in ler... le only#wants you because you're an Ath and le wants a voice in the interclan meetsings... and then when Rocaim is like yeah i know#thats why i want to marry ler isnt that like the sexiest fucking reasoning you've EVER heard. no one gets it but velan#who is also in love with ler for the same reasons but has no such claims to power#and who also is not equipped for a polycule nor willing to try to go behind rocaim's back because unfortunately for her. she is also in lov#with rocaim. me when im in love with my friend and my friend's wife and also i'm pretty sure they both reciprocate but they're both#married and i dont really know what to do about it and also all three of us are very Traditional and that is not the Tradition:#and then they both die and she never quite deals with that.#but she DOES get to raise their (surviving) kids :) most of whom are fucking nightmares#life is so difficult for velan. like actually#closerverse#cv
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years ago
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T’Pring/Michael could be everything 
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theemporium · 1 year ago
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[3k] the season is over but the marriage remains. max starts to see little leclerc in a light no one in the world has ever seen before. and daniel is stirring the pot because he is bored. but in a concerned way, obviously.
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“When did you say he was coming?” 
“Maman.” 
“Sorry for being excited to see my son-in-law.”
“Ugh, don’t call him that.” 
“That’s what he is, Charles. Grow up, please.” 
You couldn’t help but let out a snort as you watched the way your brother argued with your mother, both on very different sides of the spectrum as you awaited Max to show up. Despite his best attempts, whatever plans Charles made to try and ruin the dinner, Pascale would always be one step ahead of him, leaving the boy pouty by the time six o’clock was approaching.
And whilst you knew your mother would be excited to meet the man you impulsively—and drunkenly—decided to marry in Vegas, you hadn’t expected her to reach this level. You don’t think you had even ever seen her take Christmas dinners to this level.
The fancy plates and cutlery had been taken out of the kitchen cupboard you and Arthur were forbidden from opening, and you had spent all morning polishing them with Lorenzo. Pascale had been running around the house like a headless chicken, as though Max would step into the house and notice the specks of dust on the top of the bookshelves and doorways. Charles had been sent out the house on a goose chase that you indefinitely knew was your mother’s way of preventing him from poisoning any dishes. And Arthur was sent along with him for good measure. 
And when the clock hit five, she had practically ordered each and every one of you to put on something presentable and nice before the guest of the night arrived.
Truthfully, it felt like a funny fever dream until you were sitting in the living room, fingers tugging on the hem of your dress as you tried to fight the pit of anxiety in your stomach.
You hadn’t spoken to Max since earlier that morning. He had tried messaging a few more times: first asking what caused the sudden shift in tone, and then to ask for opinions on different bouquets. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to either. 
You were angry. Not at him. Never at him, You were just angry at yourself. You were angry for letting such a small, meaningless comment get in your head. You were angry that you were taking your emotions out on Max who was clueless and didn’t deserve your sudden cold shoulder. You were angry that despite logically knowing all of this, the sight of his contact name and the mere idea that he was going to be in your house in the next few minutes didn’t help the pit in your stomach.
You tried to focus on Charles’ tantrum. You tried to focus on the jokes Arthur kept making to wind him up. You tried to focus on the way Lorenzo was calmly trying to persuade your mother to put the photo albums away before Max even arrived. 
You tried to pretend you were okay when you were far from it.
“I want all four of you on your best behaviour,” Pascale told each of you as she anxiously glanced over at the clock, practically vibrating on the spot as the big hand neared closer to twelve with each passing moment. “No nonsense.” 
“That means no sneaking away to make out with your husband,” Arthur teased, only to let out a wince when Charles slapped him across the back of his head.
“There will be nothing of the sort,” Charles grumbled, only to let out a wince when Pascale slapped him across the back of the head.
“Don’t hit your brother,” she said in a stern voice before adding. “And stop being such a buzzkill towards your sister.”
Charles rolled his eyes.
Pascale opened her mouth as though she was going to continue scolding her middle son, only to be cut off by the sound of three knocks at the door. Her face instantly lit up as she clapped her hands together, grinning widely as she rushed towards the door. 
Maybe it was the anxiety or maybe it was something else, but your chest tightened when the door swung open and you saw Max on the other side of the door. 
He arrived right at six on the dot, though you guessed the punctuality didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the lack of Red Bull merch. It was stupid to think he would have worn it to dinner, but then again, he had worn it to plenty of other events shamelessly so you never knew what to expect. 
But no. Instead, Max stood in the doorway in black sweater with the collar of his white shirt sticking out the top. He wore dark jeans that didn’t look like they were painted on (a miracle) and he held a large bouquet of peonies that were the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen in your life. 
“Mrs Leclerc,” he greeted her with a charming smile on his face as she opened the door. “Thank you for inviting—”
“Oh enough with the formalities!” She laughed before she brought him into a hug, the act clearly catching the boy off-guard if the wide eyes were anything to go by. “We are family now. Call me Pascale.” 
“Oh. Right,” Max murmured, expertly keeping the bouquet to one side as he wrapped his other arm around the older woman. “Uh, these are for you.”
“My favourite,” she said with a genuine smile when she pulled back to take the bouquet from his hands. “What a gentleman you are, Max.”
You could have sworn you saw a light blush spread across his cheeks. 
“Please, come in,” she ushered him in as she closed the door behind him. She turned on her heel, her smile still so wide, it was almost concerning. “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready.”
Max nodded his head in thanks and turned to look at the others in the room. But his gaze completely missed your brothers and landed on you, something in his eyes shifting as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something. 
But you were already up and out of your seat before he could say a single word to you. 
“I’ll help bring the food to the table, Maman,” you said suddenly as you rushed towards the kitchen.
Arthur only snorted in response. “Trouble in paradise already.”
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“You’re ignoring me.”
You almost jumped out of your skin, the phone that was previously in your hands now clambering onto the counter. You pressed your hand to your chest, the feeling of your wildly beating heart thundering under your skin as you tried to clear your throat.
“No, I’m not,” you denied, though you hadn’t turned to look at him.
Max raised his brows. “So you’re just hiding out in the kitchen when the rest of your family are outside for no reason then?”
“I’m not hiding out. I was checking on the chicken,” you said aimlessly, your cheeks heating up under his intense gaze. But still, you kept your eyes on the counter and the random dishes of food rather than the Dutchman who taking a few steps closer to you. “And I was texting Yuki. He was having some marriage issues so—”
“Guess you can relate then,” Max deadpanned. 
Your cheeks burned warmer. “You should head back out to the party, Max.”
“At least fucking look at me,” he whispered, something almost pleading in his voice. 
You weren’t used to it with the Dutchman. Even from a young age, Max was oddly self-assured and confident in what he said. The media said he was rude, but he was just blunt. He knew what he wanted to say. He didn’t sound apologetic when he said it. And he certainly didn’t sound so distressed when he demanded things. 
And yet here he was, the three time world champion who had never sounded so desperate and anguished before in his life, just aching for you to lift your head. 
You swallowed the ball lodged in the back of your throat before slowly turning your head to find Max a few steps away from you. He looked oddly concerned and maybe that’s what really caught you off-guard. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—maybe some annoyance or some anger—but it certainly wasn’t this. 
His brows were furrowed together, the crease between his eyebrows deeper and more prominent than you had ever seen it. He looked a little lost and bashful, like for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know what to do with that piece of information. 
Max Verstappen had never looked so hopeless.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he spoke in a soft voice, and it didn’t help the pounding in your chest. 
“Nothing is wrong, Max,” you said to him, and you tried to flash him a smile. But it was strained and wrong and he hated the look of it on your face.
“Don’t bullshit me. You said this marriage wasn’t going to work if I wasn’t enthusiastic, well it won’t work either if you lie to me,” he said in a slightly more firm voice, and this time he took another step towards you. “Tell me what I did.”
Your chest tightened again. “Max—”
“Was it the comment earlier?” He continued, that pleading note in his voice so loud and clear again. “It was a joke, I promise you. I’m not ashamed to be married to you. I could never be ashamed of you.”
“Max—”
“Yes, I know the circumstances of our marriage are a little unconventional and a little inconvenient too but,” Max’s hands rested on your upper arms, the touch warm and overwhelming but you didn’t think you wanted him to let go of you just yet. “If I had to marry someone in Vegas, I am glad it’s you.” 
And it hurt. 
It hurt so fucking bad that the boy was standing in front of you, laying himself on the line and blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. It hurt because no matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth and tell him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that his agreement to your comment struck a nerve. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were feeling stupidly self-deprecating when you made the comment in the first place and his response just felt like he kicked you when you were down.
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the countless articles. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the comments made throughout your life, throughout your brothers’ careers, throughout your own career. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that he had practically chained himself to a PR manager’s worst fucking nightmare with no way out any time soon. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of it. Not when you hadn’t even confessed half of your feelings to the people in the other room. Not when a part of you was scared he would agree with every single fear that laid lingering in the back of your head. 
“It wasn’t your fault,” you finally managed to say, and something quite like relief washed over the boy when he realised you were actually answering him, that you weren’t going to run off and hide in another room like you had done before. “Just…it was something else that upset me. Not you. I promise. You did nothing wrong, Max.”
The concern returned. “What upset you?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you said simply, and you were grateful enough that the boy dropped the topic—even if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “We have a dinner to enjoy. It’s not worth ruining when Maman has spent all day making sure Charles didn’t slip some arsenic into your soup.”
Max snorted, shaking his head. A few beats passed before he squeezed your arms slightly. “We’re good?”
You smiled. “We’re good, Max.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased with that response as he let out an exhale. “Good, because now you can come out and help me. If Arthur makes one more sex joke, I think Charles might serve my balls for dessert.”
You snorted. “Maman would have his balls on a plate first if he tried to ruin the dinner itinerary she set up.”
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“Can we talk?”
Max paused what he was doing, the pile of dishes sitting in front of him from where he was trying to help tidy up after dinner moments ago. Despite Pascale’s insistence that he was a guest who didn’t need to assist, Max still found himself joining the oddly domestic dance of working around the Leclerc’s to clean away the table and take everything back into the kitchen. 
He could hear you and Arthur giggling in the other room, quickly followed by soft scolds from Pascale—the kind where you could still hear the smile in her voice. He could hear Lorenzo stepping outside for a phone call, his voice muffled by the balcony whilst Arthur made some joke that he was probably going to throw himself off after watching his baby sister make heart eyes at her husband all night. That was followed by another scolding from Pascale. 
There was an odd sense of contentment deep in his chest as he collected the last of the dishes on the dining table when he heard somebody step into the room, expecting it just to be Pascale or maybe even you. 
He wasn’t expecting Charles. 
“Uh, yeah,” the Dutchman muttered, shifting around so he was facing the boy instead. “What’s up?” He almost cringed at his own words the second they left his mouth.
“Tell me this isn’t a tactic.” 
Max paused, wondering for a few moments if he had heard the boy correctly. However, Charles didn’t seem to repeat himself as he stood there on the other side of the table, staring blankly at the Dutchman as he waited for his response. 
“What?” 
“Tell me that this whole thing isn’t just some ploy made up by Red Bull,” Charles said, his face remaining straight as he spoke. 
“What is a ploy? This dinner?” Max questioned, utterly baffled by the words leaving his mouth.
“I need you to tell me whether you are just messing with my sister as some weird, twisted way to get to me,” Charles said, his arms crossed over his chest. “I need you to tell me if this is some fucking game to you and your team.”
And Max’s stomach churned at the allegation. 
He thought this was all planned. He thought Red Bull had sent him out like a spy to get involved with the Leclerc family and exploit them. He thought this didn’t mean shit to Max beyond a mind game to assure him the championship next year.
And the worst part was that Max could see why he would think that. If there was anyone who risked being his biggest competitor on track—car aside—it would be Charles. Not his own teammate. Not Mercedes. Not McLaren. It would be Charles Leclerc, like it had always been when they were younger. 
It had always been Max Vertsappen versus Charles Leclerc. And it always would be until the end of their careers. 
For Charles to assume it was one thing. But for Charles to actually believe Max would go through with something like that? To agree to such a plan? 
The Dutchman couldn’t deny that it really fucking stung. It fucking stung that Charles assumed the worst of him—even if it was to protect his little sister—and it fucking stung to wonder if the other Leclerc’s assumed the same.
“Charles,” a disbelieving scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “I would never—”
“Because I don’t give two fucks about a championship if you are messing with my sister,” Charles interrupted. There was a rage in his eyes, a rage he had never witnessed in the boy before—not even during his worst races. “She cares deeply about people. She loves hard and fast. And if you become one of those people and break her heart?”
Max didn’t say anything.
“There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her,” he said in a softer voice, but the underlying threat was still clear. “And there is nobody I wouldn’t hurt if they hurt her.” 
“This isn’t some mind game,” Max said to the boy, because he didn’t think the boy would believe anything else he said. “Vegas was a mess, I know that. But I would never do something like this. And I would never bring your sister into our rivalry or on-track business.”
Charles’ jaw clenched a little, like he was contemplating whether he believed Max or not.
And for a few moments, Max wondered what would happen if he confessed his true feelings. He wondered what the Monagasque would say if he learnt that Max had spent the better part of their early careers either trying to beat him in a kart or ogling his sister. He wondered what Charles would think if Max told him he was almost pretty sure his little sister was his first love, even when they didn’t have a proper conversation until Charles finally joined Formula One.
Max wondered what Charles would think if he knew the truth. 
But now was not the time nor the place to tell him. To be completely honest, Max didn’t think it would ever be the time or place to tell him. He didn’t think he would ever confess that to Charles, he didn’t think there was any reason to. There was only one person in this world that deserved to hear his confession, but Max would rather throw himself in front of the RB19 before he told you how he felt.
“I swear on my life, my cats’ lives and my mother’s life,” he added after a few moments, watching as the boy’s shoulders sagged a little like he finally realised Max was telling the truth. 
“Good,” Charles nodded, pausing for a few moments. “I mean everything I said. For as long as it takes to sort out this mess, if you even upset her once, I swear to God—”
“Image loud and clear, Charles,” Max assured the boy with a single nod of his head.
“Good. Remember it, Verstappen.”
And with that, he left the room and left Max staring blankly at the pile of dishes on the table, a dull ache in his chest that he wasn’t really sure how to ease.
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 372,933 others
yourusername breaking news: max verstappen does wear something other than red bull merch!!!
view all 17,932 comments
landonorris how much did you have to pay him to wear it?
danielricciardo he had a bit of a tantrum before he left the house but i promised him two bedtime stories
maxverstappen1 you both suck
user OMG THE DINNER ACTUALLY HAPPENED
user meeting the in-laws!!!
user okay but those flowers are so pretty???
pascaleleclerc it was lovely having you, max! we must make these a regular thing!
charles_leclerc MAMAN???????
user this is my roman empire fr
user i need to know how close charles was to poisoning max
arthur_leclerc so close
maxverstappen1 i do own other clothes. you've just not seen them yet
yourusername is that an invite, mr verstappen?
oscarpiastri there are children on this app. please.
yourusername what children
logansargeant ME! I AM CHILDREN! THIS IS HORRIBLE!
yourusername grow up
user this is everything i needed and more
user okay but when do we get the solo max and little leclerc dinner date?
yourusername i would like to know too. my husband is lacking
maxverstappen1 maybe i'll wear my red bull polo
yourusername i take it back, i don't want to go out to dinner with you
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I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 7 months ago
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LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO. ( HOTD x READER )
AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Niece! Targ! ( Strong ) Reader suggest song to listen to whilst reading: Like Real People Do by Hozier or Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives prompt : I wanted to ask Aegon x niece!reader who is married to him and has been for a long time (say since the Driftmark incident), and has been taking care of him for a long time: helping him through hangovers, patching him up when he gets into fistfights etc. And no matter how much he tries to drive her away by cheating, by yelling and throwing things and generally being disgusting she never gives up on him. I need the ANGST. can you do that please? and Hi🥰 Can I request an Aegon II x Targ!(Strong) reader. She is Rhaenyra’s first child, and she inherited the Targ looks, so she is accepted by the greens. She has always been close friends with Aegon, so it was logical for them to marry. Aegon is still kind of an ass, but he loves her, she can always calm him down. Feel free to change bits here and there, it’s just an idea. Thank you so much in advance, and much love to you!😊 word count: 1, 000+ words
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When your betrothal was first announced, you were barely ten and one and Aegon, was ten and two. It was supposed to be a match made in good will. You were a year younger than Aegon, a happy girl who would make a good Mother one day. But, Aegon detested it. No, he loathed it! He made it clear as day, having no shame if hurt your feelings or caused problems. But, it never bothered you.
In many ways you were like Helaena. You were gentle, soft spoken and viewed the world with a special glimmer. There was this good in you. A good that everybody noticed and adored in the tense walls of the Red Keep. He noticed many things about you, not as if he was paying attention to you. Why would he? You were just a pest. His annoying, pest of a wife. 
You liked to read under the weirwood tree in the garden’s. You liked lemon cakes, not the actual tart, but the sugary lemon slice on top. Your eyes and nose could crinkle up when you smiled. You refused to wear a corset or keep up with the fashion trends in Court, preferring your own distinct style of gowns and hair styles. 
Your jaw would clench whenever you tended to his bleeding fingers, something he inherited from his Mother. You would chew on your bottom lip to stop yourself from flinching whenever he yelled at you. Your eyes would look for him in a room, like you wanted the assurance of his presence there. You were always patient with him, even though he never deserved it. 
You made him feel things, good things. He had gotten used to being ignored or only receiving negative attention. But, it was almost like a dirty little secret of his. To savor the good moments with you. To clutch it close to his chest when he was all alone in his bedchambers. You were good and you were always good to him.  He wanted to break that, and he would.
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Watching as you softly wrap his hand with the bandage, he doesn’t speak up, not daring to ruin this one moment of peace. He could ruin it. He would ruin it, just not right now. This was a nice moment of calm. Just this once would he allow it. Feeling bile go up his throat, he swallows it back down, his face curling up in disdain. His head was still pounding. His gut bubbling up from the large amount of food and strongwine he gorged on. He felt sick, disgustingly sick. 
"You must be careful. Twas' a cut on the finger that took Viserys." You warn, "I do not wish for you to endure such a painful fate as well."
"Do not speak." He murmurs, almost pleading.
"Aegon, I worry for you. Truly, I do not wish to awake one day to hear you've died." You whisper, "Please, Aegon. Be careful. If not for my sake, then for your own."
"Stop with the nagging." He scoffs, rolling his eyes.
"I am not nagging, I know I am not the wife you wished or wanted. But, please, Aegon.."
Feeling his annoyance bubble as you say his name, your voice soft and making it sound so lovely. He detested his name. He detested the legacy that was being forced upon him for being named after his ancestor. But, the way you said it. You made it sound like such a beautiful thing. Like he was not the discarded son, the hated one, the sinful one. Pulling his hand away from you, he abruptly stands up from his hair, pacing on the other end of the table from you. 
He couldn’t bear you caring for him. He was horrid. He was rotten. Everyone in Court thought of it, why could you not do the same? Why could you not stare at him with the same disdain as everyone else? Why? Why? Why the fuck did Rhaenyra raise you so well? Running his fingers through his greasy hair, he thought of the cruelest of things to say to you, wanting to keep you far far away from him. To make you hate him. To make you see him in the same light as others do.
"Why can you not be like other whores? Why can you not spread your legs and not your lips?" He sneers, his voice cruel. 
"Is that I am to you? A whore." You ask, swallowing the lump in your throat. 
"Yes, your a thing for me to fuck. Something for me to use when I need my cock wet. So stop speaking and do your duty.” He continues, “Be nothing more than a thing for me to fuck when needed be.”
“Aegon..”
“No, no, you are nothing. You may look like a Targaryen, but you will always be the blood of a whore. Tis’ why it is no surprise you follow in the same path your Mother does.” He adds, watching your reaction carefully.
Seeing the tears bubbling up in your eyes, he for a split second wishes to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness. But, the voice in the back of his head stops him. You were Rhaenyra’s daughter, a good and kind person. She raised you right. She raised you perfectly. You were supposed to be his enemy. You were supposed to stare at him with the same hatred your Mother stared at his Mother with. Yet, despite it all, you were kind to him. It was fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.
Clenching his jaw tightly, he shakes his head firmly, burying the guilt that festered within him. Soon enough you would understand. Soon enough the good, the kindness, all of it would die within you. You would detest him. You would grow to hate him just as everyone else did. Then, only then, would it make all of the cruelty he had thrown at you be excused. He would then have a good enough excuse for it. The guilt he felt would die. 
“Why do you say such cruel things to me?” You murmur, your voice cracking at the end.
“Because I can. Tears do not move me, so do not expect pity from me.” He confesses, “I never wished for you. I never wished for any of this. Yet, you pester me with your kindness.”
“What must I do for you to not hate me? Tell me, tell me, what you wish for me to be and I will be it.” You murmur, eyes full of so much kindness.
“Stop talking.”
“Tell me, Aegon. Please, please, tell me what you wish for me to say and do. Tell me what girl you wish for me to be, and I can be that girl for you.” You plead, bargaining with him. 
“Stop talking.” He repeats, his voice a little louder. 
"Aegon, please, stop shutting me out. Just speak to me."
You stare up at him, big teary doe-eyes. The same look you gave him whenever unsure, seeking out guidance and reassurance. The same haunting eyes you gave at your wedding, so young and unsure of what to say or do next. Feeling everything bubbling up as you plead and beg him, attempting to please him despite it all.
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Were you so damn good?! Why can’t you just hate him?! Why could he not just break you?! He broke everything else around him. From toys to furniture to others around him. He could break it all, yet you refused to break or bend.
"He is your brother, your kin. You should not treat him in such a manner."
"Aegon, you twat! You break everything!"
"Tis' the third glass you've broken this week, your grace. Do be careful."
"You are a Prince, a man of a high status, a man grown. Act like it, stop conducting yourself in such a dishonorable manner."
"Have you no shame? Do you not see the dishonor you bring to your wife? To our family name?"
Tears bubbling in his eyes, his bottom lip trembling softly, a lump in his throat thickening up. Shaking his head, he covers his ears with his hands, attempting to block out your soft pleas and attempt to mend things with him. You were so good. Alicent always said she wished to lock you away, to protect you from his rotten touch.
He wished that he was not so rotten. He wished that he could just hold you and melt into your warmth. He wished that he could love you the way that you clearly loved and cared for him. He wished that he could not have such cruel thoughts lingering in his mind. That you both could be like Rhaenyra and Daemon were, so happy and full of love. 
“STOP FUCKING TALKING!” He snaps, tears streaming down his face.
Thankfully, you stay quiet.
“Why can’t you hate me as all the others do? Why must you be so good? So kind? After all I have done to you, you continue to love me." He pleas, "Just hate me. Hate me, scorn me, hit me, damn me to the seven hells! Be like the others. Please..”
---
love you babe's for requesting this! i really loved this and had so much fun. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
@decadentfantasy
@the-riley-show
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starcrossed-lov3rz · 8 months ago
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The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 5
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Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader
Series: Series Masterlist
Warnings: MDNI, description of a panic attack, mild angst, mentions of smut
Tags: marriage, poly relationship, arguments, Caraxes, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra is trying her best out here
Words: 2.3K
Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!
Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.
Check out more works in my Masterlist!
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You shiver, pulling the sheets tighter around your naked form. Warmth clung to the bedsheets from Rhaenyra and Daemon, but as you blindly felt for your lovers…they were nowhere to be found. Sighing, you try to warm up and fall back asleep, but the damage was already done. “So much for sleeping in,” you mumble, wiping your eyes and yawning.
A muffled noise filters into the room, and you slip out of bed to investigate. Hushed voices are coming from the adjoining room. You can make out Daemon and Rhaenyra’s voices, but not their words. A twinge of guilt hits you as you press your ear to the door. You should probably go back to bed, they wouldn’t have left if they didn’t want privacy for their conversation. But some rational voice in the back of your mind rooted your feet to the ground–logically, their conversation had to be about you.
“We cannot keep them away forever,” Daemon hissed. “Sooner or later, they are going to realize that these ‘diplomacy missions’ are simply meant to deter them from King’s Landing.” 
Your brows furrow….who are they sending on diplomacy missions? Rhaenyra had introduced you to the entirety of her small council. They were all well accounted for in the Red Keep. “Daemon, I refuse to have them here while y/n is in this state.”
“My queen, the children have already begun sending ravens. If you wait any longer they will send dragons.” 
“She did not remember us, Daemon,” Rhaenyra’s voice raised. “You remember how you felt those first weeks? How do you think the children will react when they find out their mother does-”
“Mother?!” you throw the door open, eyes wide in shock. Both Rhaenyra and Daemon whip around to see you. 
“My lo-” 
“No,” you hiss, cutting Rhaenyra off. “Don’t ‘my love’ me. When were you going to tell me we had children?!” Your mind races. You had children? With Rhaenyra and Daemon? What if they’re both right? What if your other life is just some figment of your imagination–the result of some traumatic brain injury you sustained in a fall? 
Daemon steps towards you, hands up as if you’re some wild animal ready to bolt. “Breathe.”  
You can’t focus. Your chest is heaving with every breath. Your eyes dart around as you struggle to ground yourself. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Fuck, what if it’s not real? What if you’re not real? 
“Daemon-” 
Arms wrap around you, a hand moving to the back of your head to pull you, face-first, into Daemon’s chest. You tremble, unable to even vocalize sobs as silent tears trail down your cheeks. Rhaenyra hugs you, hands squeezing your waist in silent support. “Let it out,” Daemon murmurs. “We will stay as long as you need.” He bows his head, placing a kiss at the crown of your head.
You have no idea how long the three of you stand there. When you finally regain your composure, you lightly push them back. Neither of them speak; they both simply stare at you, waiting for you to say something. “I want to see them.”
“Absolutely not.”
“We leave at once.”
Daemon and Rhaenyra answer at the same time, heated looks exchanged. 
“My love, you’re in no state to meet them,” Rhaenyra says. “How are we to tell the children you do not remember them?”
“They will understand,” Daemon argues. “They are her flesh and blood. Seeing them might even help her remember who she is.”
“How am I supposed to ever remember them if you never allow me to meet them?” you cut the tension between them. “At least let me make new memories.” You grab Rhaenyra’s hands, pleading.
Rhaenyra sighs, kissing your hand quickly. “I cannot go with you, but it is an afternoon’s ride by dragonback to the children.” 
“Thank you,” you whisper, dropping her hands to hug her tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I don’t remember our family. I’m sorry I remember another life. I’m sorry I can’t be be-”
“Hush,” Nyra says, “it’s not your fault. We should be apologizing for keeping this from you. We thought if we waited, things would return…to normal.” You choke back a sob at that. Normal. 
“What if they hate me?” 
Daemon snorts before Rhaenyra can offer any encouragement. “Hardly. Lucerys threatened to melt the iron throne if he had to go another month without seeing you.” 
“My darling wife, our children could never hate you,” she assured. “Daemon and Caraxes will return you safely to me by the morrow.”
You kiss Rhaenyra deeply, running to get dressed. “What do I wear for a flight?” you call to them.
“Clothes are recommended,” Daemon teases, “but they are always optional around me.” 
“You are such an ass sometimes, my love,” you chide, rummaging through the drawers. You slide on a pair of trousers and throw a thick gown over your head. “Lace me up.”
Daemon rolls his eyes, but laces up your gown anyway. “You are going to freeze if you don’t grab a cloak.” His fingers make quick work of your laces before moving to plait your hair back.
“Then I shall steal one of Rhaenyra’s on the way out,” you shrug. “She won’t mind.” 
Daemon hums as he ties off your braid. “Say your goodbyes and steal your cloak, little thief,” he says, kissing your forehead. “I will meet you outside the dragon keep.”
You nod and begin looking for a sturdy pair of boots as Daemon leaves. “I heard you were looking for a cloak.” Rhaenyra’s voice startles you. She’s standing in the doorway, black cloak in hand. “I have one of my riding cloaks here, it will keep you warm and protect you from the elements.” She walks up, tossing it over your shoulders and pinning it to your gown. Her hands smooth down the fabric gently.
“Thank you, Nyra. Not just for the cloak,” you begin. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”
“No, y/n. Daemon is right. There is no use delaying the inevitable. It was unfair to keep it from you, even if we did it out of love.” She embraces you in a tight hug. 
“Now don’t keep our husband waiting,” Rhaenyra says as she pulls back. 
You practically run to the dragon keep. Even though Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown you through the Red Keep, you had yet to actually see a dragon. Your lovers thought it would be too soon to let you close to the dragons in your state. You could hear Caraxes before you saw him. His screeches were ear piercing, but they were nothing compared to the first glimpse you caught of him.
Instead of fear, you found yourself in awe of the great beast before you. Caraxes towers above everything, his red scales glittering in the light. His wings flap in restlessness, head twisting and turning as if he was looking for something. You watch as his nostrils flare, he had caught wind of you. Caraxes head whips towards you and the second he sees you, he lumbers over. You freeze as his massive head swings into your side, pushing you under his wing. Caraxes releases a cat-like purr that rumbles through you as he nuzzles into you. 
You instinctively reach out to pet his head, gently scratching at his scales. “Aren’t you just a handsome boy?” you giggle. This was the fearsome dragon of war Daemon goes on about? “Such a pretty boy, how could anyone be afraid of you?” you coo at the dragon as you scratch under his chin. Caraxes is trilling and purring, preening under your attention.
“I leave you alone for a moment, and you are already trying to steal my dragon?” Daemon teases as he walks around Caraxes to greet you. 
“It’s not my fault,” you laugh. “This precious baby boy just wanted some attention.”
“He was growing restless after not seeing you in months,” Daemon says. “It will be hard to get him from your side now.” Daemon pats at Caraxes’ neck in greeting, as he pulls you away to mount the dragon. Caraxes lowers to the ground as far as he can, making your ascent easier. Daemon helps you up, climbing up after you and securing you both in the saddle. 
Daemon slides an arm around your waist and whistles for Caraxes to take off. Your breath catches in your chest at the weightless feeling. Caraxes climbs up into the skies with just a few strong beats of his wings. The wind tears through your hair, and you’re thankful that Daemon took the time to braid your hair and make sure you had a cloak. You let go of the saddle, stretching your arms out and leaning back into your husband. A giggle escapes as you move your fingers in time with the air currents. 
“I don’t know how you could ever want to come down,” you yell over the wind.
“It’s hard,” Daemon leans down into your ear. “But when my beautiful wives are waiting on the ground below, nothing could truly keep me away. Not even this.” He kisses your neck, nuzzling into the skin that peeks out of your cloak. His arm around your waist tightens as his other hand slides up your thigh, shifting your skirts up. 
You groan as his hand cups your core, the heel of his palm grinding into your clit. “It is a shame that you have no memories of your first flight,” he purrs. “You were terrified of heights, and demanded I distract you.” Your hips twitch involuntarily into his grip, and you gasp softly.
“There’s no way in hell we are doing anything up here,” you whine. “It’s a long way down.” 
Daemon hums into your ear as he continues to caress you through the trousers. “You truly think Caraxes or I would let you fall?”
“Caraxes?!” you bat Daemon’s hand away. You had forgotten the dragon underneath you for a second. “What the fuck Daemon, he’s going to know what’s going on!”
Daemon goes silent in a moment, shocked, before he laughs. You twist back to see him wiping a tear from his eyes. “My love, you never fail to surprise me.” 
You slap his chest lightly, “don’t tease me, Daemon!”
He simply shakes his head, hand retreating as he smooths your skirts back down to cover your trousers. “Forgive me, dear wife. I only wished to distract you from your worries.”
His words sombered the playful mood as you remembered what waited for you at the end of this flight–your children. “Tell me about them.”
“Well, we have several. There’s Baela, Rhaena, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys.” 
“Dear gods, please tell me Rhaenyra took a turn birthing this mob of children.” You wince. How did you manage to have so many children in your five year marriage.
As if sensing your question, Daemon clarifies. “Baela and Rhaena are both daughters from my previous marriage. Their mother, Laena, died giving birth to our third child.”
“Will they be there as well?”
“No. They are both staying at Driftmark with their grandsire for the summer. Aegon and Viserys are both in the nursery at the Red Keep.”
You gasp, “how did I never find out about them?”
“The staff were counseled to keep their silence if they wanted to keep their heads,” Daemon says causally.
“I am rather confused,” you admit. “We’ve only been married for five years, how did we manage five children in that time?”
“Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey are all children from Rhaenyra’s first marriage. Aegon and Viserys are the only children who survived in our short five years.”
“Survived? What do you mean?”
Daemon sighed, squeezing you tightly before he began. “You….struggled to become pregnant. When you did, it was a hard pregnancy. Rhaenyra and I were terrified of losing you. You barely survived the birth, but-” His voice cuts off. You place your hand over his, waiting for him to find his words again. “Visenya was stillborn.”
You stare off into the skies. It was surreal. You, or at least another version of yourself, had been through so much. The rest of the flight passed with Daemon telling you stories of the children. Moments like these were hard, but precious. Daemon rarely let his guard down to show any vulnerability, but when he did you found yourself drawn even closer to him.
Daemon yelled a command, urging Caraxes to land. The dragon soared through the clouds, gliding down. You peak over the side to catch a glimpse below. The only things you can make out are two dragons laying in a clearing. 
Caraxes lands surprisingly light, but you still jolt forward at the sudden stop. Daemon braces you as he untangles the saddle ties from you. Caraxes lowers, stretching a wing out for you to climb down. You slide down, thanking him with a pat. 
“Mom!” Before you can turn to look for your sons, a figure jumps into your arms. You instinctively catch them. “I missed you.”
“Joffrey, give your mother some space.” Daemon chides.
The figure, Joffrey, wriggles deeper into your arms. You pick him up, setting him on your hip. He was certainly too old for a nursery, but not too old to be carried. You look up to see Jacaerys and Lucerys standing a few feet away. 
“I trust your journey was well?” The tallest brother–Jacaerys–asks. You silently thank Daemon for giving you a crash course on the flight over. There was some tension, as if they both assumed they were in trouble.
“No need for formalities, I’m just happy to see my boys.” Jacaerys and Lucerys sigh in relief before running up to hug you. “We have so much to talk about.”
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NOTE: Thank you so much for all the love on this series!! I work a full time job and spend my evenings writing-so all your support makes it so worth it! As you have noticed, this chapter is smut free (alas). Trust me, there are PLENTYYYYYY of scenes ahead (bc I'm down bad for these two). In the meantime, I hope you all enjoyed a little Caraxes content! ~ Lacie <3
Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @aniisbavk1 , @different-tale-student
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comicaurora · 7 months ago
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Listening to the latest OSPod and your discussion about being ace and wanting to be prioritized, it resonated a lot with me. I also go through those sorts of yearning periods and it was nice to hear that verbalized.
It's a tough feeling! Loneliness is a universal consideration, but for anyone who doesn't want a single life partner it takes on a new, difficult shape. Finding "the one" won't fix it, because you don't want "one", and you also don't want to give all of yourself to just "one." So everything we learn from the social and cultural zeitgeist tells us that this life will make us, forever, a third wheel - deprioritized, unnecessary, nobody's first choice.
I think some of the fear is rooted in a fallacy, though. Broken down, it's basically just "will people like me if I can't offer them something?"
Relationships aren't really transactional. I do things for the people I love because I like it when they're happy, and I can only assume the inverse is also true. But if you're a person for whom the supposed "highest tier of relationship closeness" is inaccessible, if your friends have Most Important People in their lives who aren't you, this insidious feeling can creep in. "Those people are closer because they could offer something you couldn't. They get to be cared about because they have something you lack."
It's not true, obviously. Relationships aren't a linear hierarchy; every relationship is completely unique. Everyone I'm friends with, I'm friends with in a completely different way. I don't have a ranking or tier list defining how close we are, and I can only assume my friends don't either.
And the logic breaks down further the more you look at it. There's this idea that friendships are more fragile and disposable than romantic relationships, leaving people whose only relationships are friendships in a more supposedly unstable position. But romances and life-partnerships break down all the time. Not to go morbid to prove a point, but I've lost several elderly relatives at this point, and the one whose passing was mourned the most, the longest, and the most impactfully was the maiden aunt who never married, never had any kids, but was still so deeply loved by her nieces and nephews and their spouses and children. I've seen it proved that marriage, kids and grandkids doesn't save someone from isolation, and that a single life doesn't doom them to isolation either. None of us are automatically destined for loneliness.
A fear of abandonment is a powerful thing, and while my perspective on it is intrinsically tied to my ace identity, it's definitely not just us feeling it. For a social species like us, there's really nothing more unifying than a fear of being alone.
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widebrimmedhatsblog · 21 days ago
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ONYX STORM ⚡️⚡️⚡️
My thoughts below the cut! Spoilers galore. This is all from my first read through, so we’ll see what changes by the time I finish my second read. I’m still pretty jumbled up about the book (I am physically incapable of opening up goodreads and giving it a rating) and, frankly, I think my notes are going to reflect this! Also, this is thoughts for the WHOLE BOOK, so please don’t open the full post if you’re not done with the WHOLE BOOK.
I’m pasting my notes directly from the doc I took them on while reading , and adding extra post-read commentary when I feel the urge! Also this is your warning that I swear quite a bit in these! For they are candid.
ch1-10:
- i will say i thought the ch 2 epigraph was an inntinnsic clue but now im not so sure bc it’s not that rare it’s just that they kill everyone who has it ??? (commentary from future helena: this is about lilith…right?)
- tell me something, violence. why is it always you? 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
- what IS a soul. how can you take a soul apart piecemeal. why do you think he gave up part of his soul. who told you that. (CFFH: i stand by this. none of this makes any sense to me.)
- hmmmm no red post fingering! curious…very curious (CFFH: i still don’t know about this one dawg)
- the kiss beneath her ear after he helps her get dressed somebody sedate me
- god DOES garrick like imogen because mans does NOT act like it poor im (CFFH: I seriously cannot stop wondering when the hell Rebecca decided to make immrick canon because i LIKE the ship, but on my fw and if re reads it does not read like Garrick likes her, and I would say that holds true till the very end of the damn book)
- VIOLETTTTTTTT I LOVE HER she’s so fucking back (CFFH: violets characterization was my favorite thing about this book. i was really scared about xaden leaving because frankly rebecca writes violet best with him, but she held her own so much better than she has in the other two books. i always love her, but she was incredible here.)
- the bits about vi being a good duchess i Knew that was him saying he wanted to marry her (CFFH: this is an example of what i like to call RY’s “gotcha ass foreshadowing”)
- also i have always characterized fen in my head as loving the movement more than xaden i know what’s up
- i’m soooo excited about him being the duke this is so embarassing im pumping my fists
- did NOT see the samara field trip coming what the fuck
- EVEN HUNDREDS OF MILES AWAY HES STILL TSKING CARE OF EMD EKDNRNRNRN (CFFH: yeah.)
- hey guys what the fuck was that dream? did RY see the cat/violet shippers and get ideas
- WHAT THE FUCK. i saw NONE of this coming
- GARRICKS A WIND WIELDER ???? (CFFH: obviously did not age super well…however garrick was acting so sus here and his dialogue felt so off that i genuinely thought he was the traitor for a fat minute)
11-20
- WHETS RNRJRNRNRNRNRNRJEKEKKRRN
- IS THIS THE MARKED ONES SECOND SIGNET TNEORY (CFFH: can you tell i was a big fan of the marked ones second signet theory. also what’s xadens third signet then? also i feel like if EVERYONE has 2 vi will have 3! i have a theory explaining it below somewhere)
- WLSO DID XADEN FHCKINF KNOW (CFFH: they actually handled this really well i was so nervous they’d have the fight again)
- dude im like short circuiting sick to my stomach HES SOOOOOOO BOYFRIEND ? (CFFH: what on EARTH was this about?)
- well the fuck aware!!!!!!!!!
- i can’t breathe
- i need my inhaler
- LIAM WIELDINF ICE (CFFH: again, can you tell i was a big fan of the marked ones second signet theory? fun fact, i actually wanted to write it into ITHOIA but then i realized a. how much work it would be to concoct that many signets and b. i’d have to give xaden THREE, and decided to pick my battles. however i did brainstorm what signets had xaden energy for giving him a third one and immmmmm immmm having ideasssssss)
- YOURS X
- why do i agree with JFBs venin logic man
- god halden is her traumatic ex relationship goddddd (CFFH: i edited out most of my complaining, but i was super against the halden idea (per my predictions). this might get me cancelled, but it did feel fan service-y? to me? which is fine! fans deserve to be serviced! there are moments of this book in which i am the fan being serviced! but when it become clear RY was going in the halden direction, i was super stressed about how she’d handle it, and im thrilled she made him toxic. THRILLED.)
- SECOND KROVLAN UPRISING
- knowing miss yarros and her gotcha ass foreshadowing ridoc is going on that quest lmdao
- PRFOEOEKEENDJEJEN PROFESSOR RIORSON PROFESSOR RIOROSN (CFFH: not only do i stand by this, but i actually wanted to write teacher roleplay for kinktober and i didn’t bc i didn’t think the fandom would take a liking to it, but CLEARLY rebecca didn’t have those concerns)
- i am going to commit crimes against humanity your relationship did not just END SJEJEJEJENR R (CFFH: i’ve noticed miss yarros has begun to really lean on chapter cliffhangers, and frankly, it pisses me off. i understand she needs to get her bag with kindle unlimited and all, but it makes for a stressful reading experience imo. however, this one got me. this one got me SO bad i had to take a walk to calm down. i have been looking forward to professor riorson for MONTHS and i was convinced it was crashing and burning before my eyes. maybe this is why i shouldn’t read past 1 am. i know rebecca has given interviews and has said she needs there to be constant tension in their relationship or else there’s no story, and while i know what she means, THIS tension felt so manufactured to me. i also think she could pull off a war story with them just like …together. i believe in her. the story needs tension, but it doesn’t need to be between them like this, imho.)
- we live by the codex/i live by you 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫I AM YOURS AND YOU ARE MINE AND THERE’S NO LAW OR RULE IN THIS WORLD OR THE NEXT THAT CAN CHANGE THAT
- you know what we might get shadow sex in this book. we might. (CFFH: we do! and i think we can get more with asim!xaden)
- fun fact about me it took till my THIRD RE READ to see that xaden controls the shadows with his hands.
- there’s been like 3 indirect marriage references if my fucking empire of storms prediction was correct im going to scream (CFFH: so i actually didn’t get to scream because i was too busy MOURNING the lack of a RIORGAIL WEDDING.)
- PAPA SORRENGAIL HAS NAME AND ITS ASHER ?????
- ridocs blow job joke was funny i cackled
- papa sorrengail (im going to deadname him) i do love you man
- SHADOW HANDCUFFS OH MY GOS i had a seizure in my reading hammock
- he is my choice. that got me. that felt good.
- DRAAAAAAAAKE (CFFH: i may say this later, but alli (no tag bc she’s not done reading yet) made drake so sexy to me (and amy! also no tag) and i was kind of disappointed lmfao)
- vi rlly out here playing cousins or dating
21-30
- i loooooove him calling her love all the time
- it’s so crazy to me that he’s relaxed without magic but im glad! since i do think this is his ending over all
- helena bets time: the deal the krovlan rebels didn’t uphold was smth to do with the irids or the feather tails
- “xaden riorson is a lot of things, but happy usually isn’t one of them” hey man what the fuck
- this feels like a fever dream this is the dragon show christmas episode that isn’t relevant to the plot what do you mean they’re bonding over horses
- hey guys is this…capitalism?
- i can’t get over the isle kingdoms being kerch (CFFH: if you haven’t read six of crows this won’t make any sense, but if you have….)
- ARETIA IS THE SECOND MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I MVE EVER SEEN AND MY HOME IS THE FIRST (CFFH: he was ON ONE in this)
- maybe im toxic but he’s being so nice im so anxious about something going wrong 💀 like he stays in the isles or something jesus
- “even if we did, we can’t be in two places at once” + xaden acting weird ….. (CFFH: i want to say third signet but i don’t know)
- what the FUCK is going on with him like it’s really hot but it’s freaking me out
- IM GIVING DIPLOMACY A TRY NOT SURE ITS FOR ME THOUGH (CFFH: dare i say lilith parallel)
- HE WOULD HAVE IF HE’D MET HIM. knocked me on my ass.
- i have an idea i just dont like being wrong baby violet i need to give you a forehead kiss
- why is violets dad the grandpa from the inheritance games
- im going to bed fr fr now but my last minute prediction is that he marries vi to make her an aristocrat (this is wishful thinking) (also we don’t HAVE to rescue halden) (like it’s fine if we don’t)
- MY CONSORTTTTTTTT
- WHEN WOULD BE. can he propose for real. please. (CFFH: this is hurting my feelings)
- bro his LINES IN THIS ???? who do you swear fealty to/VIOLET
- he’s acting less sus…i did NOT like that epigraph abt “returning to his true nature” (CFFH: maybe im on something but idk if this was meant to reflecrt him draining the alloy or whatever it was orrrr if it was abt vi channeling somehow!)
- im almost worried he’s trying to marry her before he kills himself or something but he keeps telling her how selfish he is so maybe not (CFFH: close!)
- her EDS is also a lot better done this time around (CFFH: from a layman’s point of view, obviously, but her injuries were much more graphic, and her other symptoms were actually on page. i really appreciated this)
- oh my godddd sloane and dain.
- i feel like the bond fuckery is vi’s second signet ???? i ALSO feel like it’s sexy
- DAXTON
- PAPA SORRENGAIL HAS A MAIDEN NAME
- also bodhi TOTALLY has a second signet that little LIAR i wonder if he’s an inntinnsic too or smth.
- god imagine bodhi has resurrection
- im trying to be normal but i feel like its insane we’re just now learning where violets family is from idk!!!
- why is dain sweet in this idk also this happened earlier but vi’s dad teaching him languages FOR violet makes me want to cry
- im so fucking proud of violet holy crap
- is violet ??? unnbrian????
31-40
- FOREHEAD TAT LIKE THEOPHANIE!!!!
- violet absolutely can wield there im calling it rn shawty is MAGICAL (CFFH: i guess maybe it’s her touched by dunne ??? thing ??? and she’s somehow ??? half god ????)
- god xaden and dain love her so much
- why does rebecca never let me see xaden do her wraps for her i want to seeeeee
- they’re all in couple pairs so obviously dain and garrick are fucking next (CFFH: this was a joke but tbh…i could be convinced idk)
- god so timing wise DID papa sorrengail meet xaden’s mom !/!:!3&3’ejd (CFFH: i don’t think so ??? but maybe ???)
- not sure my thoughts on the name talia (CFFH: this is bc i picture my bestie Thalia Grace)
- the mommy issues are churning my stomach
- i loooooove aaric holy
- dude i totally thought ridoc was dead
- babe! this isn’t you!
- oh my god ?????? i was NOT expecting violet to give them the old kazzledazzle (CFFH: this is another six of crows reference in which Kaz uses someone’s child as leverage by implying that he’ll kill them, basically, except Kaz is on page morally gray. in THIS book violet is, but i don’t think she had been before now)
- this is genuinely honest to god NOT how i thought their relationship would go and it’s freaking me out
41-50
- you’re my soul JESUS what is he ON
- god poor andarna
- I KNEW HE WAS AN ARIES AND NOT A PICSES I KNEWWWW ITTTT
- she wrote him a letter 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
- i will say i’ve been wondering if the venin effects xaden experiences are more of a ptsd metaphor than anything
- is cuir trans bc i totes thought she was a woman
- ….it would be a shame to kill my last living relative….
- god the adaptations to the running landing mean so much to me im so proud of her
- violet baby i love you to pieces
- you do some of your best work on that throne 😭😭😭😭 (CFFH: the amount of callbacks in this book was very intriguing to me)
- WERE HOME VI ACT LIKE IT
- i was actually rlly against xaden telling anyone he was venin but it’s all gone surprisingly well
- if lindell and lewellen are xaden and liam’s gay foster dads….dont call don’t text
- shadow handcuffs………………..
- im a fan!
- god i did NOT expect that to be the route they took? with the sex ? (CFFH: i thought they were gonna handcuff XADEN. )
- she is absolutely having xaddys dreams but idk what the FUCK the cat one was
- IS XADENS THIRD SIGNET PROPHETIC DREAMS. (CFFH: im leaning towards venin mindfuckery but who knows)
51-end
- i am actually really enjoying tairn and adarna this read although id like a dragon punnet square
- violet is so venin. xaden IS power she says while she says SHE IS power mmmmm rebecca i know your secrets (CFFH: see yall after book 4 idk)
- hi who the fuck was the high priestess and why does it matter im so confused i can see the puzzle pieces and i am flipping the table
- also crack pot theory entered my head. if xaddy gets 3 signets then vi has to get 3 signets. tairn never says naolin he always says “the one who came before” what if…hear me out…somehow it was papa sorrengail???? and not naolin ??? at least not naolin the whole time so then she’s getting a third signet from tairn
- why the fuck did vi not listen to aaric in the first place mans clearly knows what he’s talking about (CFFH: #drama)
- okay is violet a demigod. is that what’s going on
- IS HER HAIR NOT ACTUALLY SILVER (CFFH: i feel like it has to be ????)
- okay wait im thinking about the dedication thing they said earlier -> lilith is sick -> they think fetus vi is going to die -> they ??? dedicate ??? her ??? to dunne ??? (CFFH: i still don’t know actually except she’s two and not a fetus? and it was just papa sorrengail. also i think they rode tairn there LMAO but maybe im insane)
- i cant get over garrick being a distance wielder i need to check on the immrick girlies (CFFH: immrick girlies i hope you’re well!!)
- god how are the irids involved in rsc ???
- i exist for tairn, but i live for xaden okay girl okayyyy
- god does she get to keep being an inntinnsic now ?????
- THRILLED about her sleeping in xadens clothes
- were past the break up stage he’s sooooo real i love him
- core. memory. (CFFH: this is the biggest sin rebecca’s committed anachronism wise my god)
- god DID they get secret married ????
- god when they said bring your brother and i thought she meant liam was being resurrected i actually started to enter cardiac arrest (CFFH: am i the only one 😔)
- is bodhi actually his secret brother and garrick knows and we don’t because what the fuck (CFFH: i guess it could just be vibes?)
- my heart is not in my chest cavity after the liam business
- COLONEL DAXTONS GUIDE TO EXCELLING IN THE SCRIBE QUADRANT!!!!!
- i knew that was how it was going to go purely from alli’s take the second they said they had mira i was like reciting the sitq ending (CFFH: obviously i was slightly wrong but still! this is controversial but the fact that she let everyone were close to (mira/ridoc) live and only killed off tertiary characters kind of undercut the experience for me idk!)
- oh my god dain and sloane 🥹
- come back to me/only ever you
- DUKE OF ANGST
- is garrick’s distance wielding how they dealt with the fuck ass trips to aretia that didn’t work with the timeline bc that’s brilliant actually god damnit
- the bullshit about being everywhere at once means something i can feel it
- RHIANNON?????
- cannot believe that line is feirge
- hi so fun fact i don’t think jm meant to read for this many hours straight i feel like im locked in a trance
- THE ONLY PERSON I TRULY LOVE ???? ABOUT QUINN??? IMOGEN ???
- what on earth is imogen’s second signet bc i don’t think that’s how fire wielding works ????
- i cannot believe the marked ones all have second signets what the ever loving fuck
- i feel like quinn’s death was just not that impactful however imogen saying her mom and sister will know who she is made me tear up jesus
This is where I stopped taking notes!! I’m SO confused about the ending. To be quite honest, I think I’ll reblog this with my thoughts on the ending after I’ve re read it, because I’m LOST. What did Xaden show Sgaeyl ???? Who turned venin with him, because I thought Bodhi but maybe Garrick but maybe both??? how DARE rebecca now show me the riorgail wedding ?/??2?3?3$33&:! WHO does he have a DEAL with???
misc thought that didn’t make it up there:
- i LOVE how she handled Sawyer’s amputation and rehab.
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starogeorgina · 6 months ago
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𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝
Parings: Alys Rivers x reader, Daemyra x reader
Warnings: Smut, swearing, choking, incest, slight dubcon (under the influence of magic)
You had yet to decide if being forced to travel to Harrenhal alone in the name of your brother and king, Aegon, to persuade the river lords to fight for him was the best or worst thing to happen to you during the war. You arrived days before Daemon did, but you had barely spoken to anyone; you had been far too trapped in your own mind to rally an army.
“Good girl, just like that.”
Alys’s praise causes the throbbing between your legs to worsen. If the rumors were to be believed, Alys Rivers was a witch, and you weren’t sure if you believed she was anything other than a temptress. From the moment your dragon landed at Harrenhal, you sensed something shifting—a charge in the air. You arrived during the hour of the owl, and Ser Simon Strong had been a gracious hoist and honest about not bending the knee to Aegon from the beginning. He also warned you to stay away from Alys.
She starts rutting against your face while you suck on her clit. “Are you going to do everything I say, precious?”
Unable to answer verbally, you nod.
“Good. I know that tongue of yours can be used for more than just a witty comeback, so I expect you to use it on the silver-haired queen.”
You nod again.
Alys looks down at you with a smirk on her face; she thrives welding such power over a dragon. She strokes your hair and says, “You’ll take the king consort's seed and seduce the queen. Pleasure her as you do me.”
Perhaps Alys was a witch; it was the only logical reason why you would agree to such a thing.
Alys squeezes your breast, causing you to press your thighs together. She moans, “I want you to moan for them. Let them hear the sweet sounds of you coming undone.”
You finally remove your mouth from her cunny. “What do I do after?”
“When they are done fucking you, you come and find me.” She smiles down at you, her hand delicately resting above your forehead. “But first, you will finish pleasuring me, and then I shall return the favor until the time is right.”
“She’s been too busy burying her head between the witch's thighs to raise an army.”
Daemon wasn’t wrong; you were preoccupied with Alys when Rhaenyra arrived at Harrenhal. The army her husband had gathered bent the knee to her, and the couple had reunited. You raise your brows, challenging him, “Jealous?”
His lips twitch as he fights back the urge to lash back, but the look on Rhaenyra's face prevents him from saying anything further. She had you brought to their bedchamber to speak in privacy. “Last we spoke, you mentioned your mother was pushing to find you a match; did you make one?”
“I refused every man she put before me.”
The line of questioning had nothing to do with the war being waged. Perhaps the witch was messing with everyone's minds.
“Why?” She asks sternly.
“Mirre se vali sia nākostōbā.” (All the men were weak.)
She smirks, “You want to marry someone who shares the blood of the dragon.”
“No, I don’t want to marry them. I just want their seed.” You chuckle, “Don’t look so surprised, sister; we both know the men we choose to marry don’t need to father whatever children we bear. I don’t see an issue with wanting to keep our bloodline pure.”
Rhaenyra and Daemon share a look. They silently exchange words, and when Rhaenyra nods her husband's strut over to you, he takes your chin in his hand. “The queen is not only generous; she is merciful. She will spare your life and will allow me to fill you with my seed, but only if you swear to fight for her.”
“I swear.”
“Sȳz riña.” (Good girl)
Rhaenyra traces her hand along the curve of your ass. “The child and any dragon they bond with will only fight for me.”
“Yes.”
Daemon comes up behind you and rubs your breasts through your dress. When he feels your nipples become hard, he pinches them. His lips brush against your ear. “Say yes, my queen.”
“Yes, my queen.”
He chuckled cruelly, “such a wanton princess.
“A spoilt princess,” Rhaenyra adds. “Strip for us.”
Quickly, you take off your dress and stand naked in front of them. The thought of being touched by them both excited and terrified you.
Rhaenyra looks you up and down with a wicked smile on her face. “Lay on your back and open your legs.”
Following her command, you get onto the bed and lay on your back. The blue sheets beneath you are soft against your skin. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you spread your legs open and expose yourself to both of them.
Rhaenyra tuts seeing how wet you are. “And I suppose I’ll need to make sure you’re ready to take the king's cock,” her tone mocking, yet she slides her nails across the soft flesh of your thigh, then slides a finger into your wet cunny with ease. “She is tight.”
“Oh,” Daemon taps his cock against your mouth. As soon as your lips parted, Daemon shoved himself into your mouth. “You are indeed a merciful queen.”
Rhaenyra removed her own clothing; the curves of her body are a beautiful sight to see. She stands between your legs and leans down. She flicks her tongue over your clit a few times, but when you moan, she stops. “You are enjoying this far too much. This is a privilege you should be working harder for.”
Like an obedient worker in a pillow house, you take him deeper into your mouth. Daemon groans, feeling the vibrations of you gagging on his cock. He wipes the saliva pooling from your mouth and spreads it across your breasts. “You enjoy being used; perhaps we will bring you back to Dragonstone to be the queen's whore. Would you like that?”
You nod while choking on him.
“She’s so wet.” Rhaenyra kneels between your thighs, and her tongue dips in between your folds.
Daemon pulls his cock from your mouth and watches as his wife scissors two fingers inside your cunt and sucks on your clit, stretching you out for him. From the skilled way Rhaenyra fucks you with her finger and mouth, you know this isn’t the first time she’s touched a woman.
Coming undone, you arch your back and coat her fingers with your juices.
Rhaenyra and Daemon switch places, and while he slides the head of his cock between your folds, you take Rhaenyra's breast into your mouth and suck greedily.
Daemon mumbles something in High Valyrian, then roughly pushes into you, stretching your cunt on his cock.
Feeling your body tense, Rhaenyra glides her hand over your stomach and, using two fingers, starts rubbing your clit. “You are taking him well. Is this your first time being bedded by a man?”
You let go of her breast to answer her, “Yes.”
Daemon lightly slaps your thigh.
“Yes, my queen.”
Smirking Daemon says, “The princess is learning quickly.”
Alys voice echoes inside your head, telling you to please Rhaenyra just as you did her. “My queen, please, let me pleasure you with my mouth.”
Her free hand is suddenly around your neck, and Rhaenyra squeezes hard to make you squirm without completely cutting off your air supply. Her lips graze against yours. “Do you think you deserve to taste me?”
“No, my queen, I don't. But I do wish to make you feel good.”
Rhaenyra smashes her lips against yours, then abruptly pulls away. Daemon speeds up his thrusts while Rhaenyra gets onto the bed and straddles your face. Alys has taught you how to fuck a woman with your tongue and fingers, and it doesn’t take Rhaenyra long to start moaning your name.
Her screams of pleasure are silenced by Daemon when he captures his lips.
The sounds of them kissing are exhilarating. Your legs are gripped tightly and held open wider as Daemon’s thrusts become sloppy. It only takes a few more rubs at your clit for you to come undone again, but your moans are muffled by Rhaenyra’s cunt. The vibrations of your moans tip her over the edge; she squeezes your breast harshly while riding her high against your face.
Daemon fingers dig into your hips. He grunts, spilling his seed inside you.
Rhaenyra gets off you and tenderly kisses your neck; her skin is shinny with sweat, and her head is disheveled. She looks beautiful. “What are you thinking about, princess?”
“That Harrenhal is cursed.”
Confused by your answer, she rests her head against your shoulder while Daemon caresses your leg with one hand and strokes his half-erect cock with the other. The king consort was far from done with you.
Somewhere in the distance, you hear Alys giggling. Taking Daemon’s seed was only the beginning of her plan.
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multific · 1 year ago
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The Mistress of The Devil
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Ivar the Boneless x DarkWitch!Reader
Warnings: mention of witchcraft, demons
Summary: Dark clothes, dark aura and powers. Where you came from, or who you were, not even Aslaug was sure anymore. All she could recall is that she promised to wed her son to you. And now, the Devil had a wife.
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"I said you will marry her and this is the last I want to hear anything from you Ivar!" hearing his mother yell, Ivar knew, he lost this battle.
He was to marry this unknown woman.
He hated the idea.
Ivar will just simply kill her, he needs no wife.
He said, but the next day, just when Kattegat woke up, there stood a woman.
She was dressed in a black, her smile was kind, too kind for someone dressed so dark.
"My name is Y/N. I came for my wedding."
Everyone was confused. Aslaug ended up showing you around and introducing you to your future husband.
Ivar Ragnarson.
A strong man with an even stronger will. His legs were the proof of it. He never backed down, not letting anything get in his way.
You liked it.
The determination. The fire.
It is just what you need in a husband.
You smiled at Ivar as you two were wed.
Now, you had him.
---
Everyone knew the name Ivar the Boneless. Everyone feared Ivar the Boneless.
The fearless Viking known for his intelligence and insanity.
But then, a whisper came with the wind.
A whisper of his wife.
A woman, explained as the Darkness herself.
The Christians referred to her as Satan's Wife. 
Would that make Ivar Satan in their logic?
Everyone wondered how could Ivar be so fearless, how could he know so much.
The answer was simple, his wife.
You, with your powers inherited throughout the generations of women in your family.
You, the dark sorceress who fell madly in love with a not so simple Viking.
It was always you.
People who survived Ivar's wrath often said it was as if he had a dark figure standing behind him. The figure was tall, and had long arms and eyes that glow red like blood.
Overexadiration, but not far from the truth.
One of your many beings. 
Sentenced to follow and help Ivar in his fights, the being didn't have a name. It was simply black and tall.
Ivar swore sometimes he could see it from the corner of his eye.
It made him recall a time when he first saw one of your... pets.
It was very late, the fire has nearly gone out, both of you sleeping under furs.
Ivar woke, his mind fuzzy with sleep when he saw someone or rather something in the corner. 
But as his eyes focused and he woke up with a start, the thing vanished.
"What is it, Ivar?" you asked, being awakened from your slumber.
"I saw someone." you looked at the corner he kept on staring at.
"I will deal with it, sleep now." you smiled at him as you stood up and walked towards the entrance of the house.
Ivar followed you, crawling as you opened the door, his words failed him.
You stood a couple steps from the door, looking towards the darkness. You turned to your left, then to your right. As if you saw someone you spoke up, just as Ivar found his way towards the doorway.
"Let him sleep! You are scaring him, I told you before." you said, to him it looked like you have gone mad, then you turned to him. "I told you before, they wouldn't hurt you, don't be afraid of them, Ivar." you said and Ivar swore he saw something move to his right. He quickly looked and saw a pair or long fingers on the wall, the... thing right around the corner, Ivar felt frozen.
Then he saw it.
The face of a being, not human. Illuminated by the light coming from the window, Ivar's pair of blues met with black eyes and skin so pale, Ivar never seen anything like it before.
"It won't hurt you." you said with a lower voice as you watched Ivar. He then looked back at you, you saw his confusion. "They won't hurt you." you said once more and this time, Ivar believed you.
But never after that night did he ever want to see any of your creatures.
---
You were a rather light sleeper. 
There were occasions when nothing could wake you, and other times where a simple movement from Ivar made you wake up. This was one of those nights.
You were awakened by his simple movement, you couldn't fall back to sleep and so, you decided to just sit by the fire and watch it and Ivar.
Ivar woke up hours later, it was still dark outside and he looked at you.
"Are your demons haunting you again, Wife?"
"Quite the opposite, My King. I'm haunting them." you smirked and Ivar moved to the edge of the bed. 
You stood up and stood still a couple steps away from him.
"What would you do for me, Ivar?" you asked and he looked into your eyes.
"I would burn the entire world. Kill every last person just to get to you. Kill every last demon just to have you with me again." you moved onto the floor, crawling over, you placed your hands on his knees.
"Would you run for me?" you watched his eyes switch. 
You offended him.
You corrected yourself.
"If I give you the ability, would you run to me, run to save me, run to kill them? Would you?"
"C-Can you?" he asked, eyes filling with hope.
And you nodded.
A simple nod.
"Will it hurt?" came his next question.
Another nod.
"It would be worth it. Standing beside you, as the proud husband I am. Run to you? Without a question." he ran his fingers through your hair.
You sealed your deal with a kiss.
---
Everyone in Kattegat woke up with a feeling of dread.
Then they all saw.
Ivar walking around like nothing happened, as if his legs always worked.
The Devil could walk.
And it terrified everyone.
They only could imagine what his enemies would think, given how his own people were terrified of him. 
His brother always knew Ivar's wife wasn't a regular woman. They had this feeling about her, as they said, there was a darkness around her.
And upon seeing their brother walk, there was no more doubt about it.
She made him walk.
So, was is actually that Ivar married the Devil? Would it actually be the Devil and her husband?
One thing was for sure, now whenever someone looked into the dark of your eyes, they could hear people crying and begging.
And just like with many names in history, yours and Ivar's were eventually melted into one.
It was no longer Ivar the Boneless and his wife.
Soon, all people remembered was the fierce Viking, Ivar the Boneless.
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ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 
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chlix · 5 months ago
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juno
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bf! minho x fem! reader: you have baby fever. your boyfriend wants to be with you forever. turns out you can kill 2 birds with 1 stone
genre: fluff, crack, suggestive (MDNI, explicit dialogue)
word count: 3.3k
warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, jokes about a breeding kink, marriage proposal, y/n is a little spoiled i gotta admit, this one is all over the place ya'll
a/n: minho's fic in my album series! this one is based on "juno". y/n is a LOT in this one but i found it way more fun and fitting to the song to write her that way rather than actually being down to earth and reasonable lol
You’re out at a mall with your friend Jia, having a lazy day shopping and eating overpriced food from the shops in the central plaza. It's been a while since you had time to bum around with her, and your boyfriend, Minho, had said he'd drive you there and take care of his own errands while he waited. He'd even handed you his second credit card and told you to get whatever you wanted, much to Jia's amusement. You wish you were more put off by him flaunting his money, but unfortunately you passed that point long ago. It's also due to the fact that his money is much appreciated at this point in your life. Currently, you’re a bit of a NEET; after you had to quit your last job, you’ve been doing little except sitting at home, attempting TikTok recipes, doing housework and fantasizing about having things like hobbies and life goals aside from marrying your boyfriend.
“That’s nothing new for you, though,” your friend Jia says. “You inherited the suburban princess aesthetic from your mother.”
“You say that as if we weren't raised on the same street” you say, words thick around the spoon of froyo in your mouth. “We’re both suburban princesses.”
Your eyes roam around the mall, people watching as you often do. Next to the frozen yogurt place you had just visited, there is a mother with her small toddler at the counter. The mother is stylishly dressed, in cute jeans and a red sweater, and her daughter matches perfectly in a tiny little red turtleneck and a corduroy pinafore press. She’s wearing little charms in her hair and has a backpack with a bunch of dangly charms that jingle as she fidgets. She is eyeing the froyo on the counter with big eyes as she waits for her mother to pay for it, ever so patient and polite. The cashier waves at her and the toddler waves back.
“Stopppp, look at them. Isn’t that girl so cute?”
Jia follows your eyeline to the mother and daughter at the froyo counter.
“She is. I love how her and mom are matching.”
“I can’t wait to have a little mini-me that I can wear matching outfits with.”
“You and I wear matching outfits all the time.”
“Yes, but I want to do it with someone cute.”
Jia’s eyes roll so hard that you know it must’ve hurt.
“Since when do you want kids, y/n?”
“Since always. Or I don’t know. Maybe I just was worried that it would be difficult? Or that I’d never find the right guy? But I think Minho would be a good father, so it’s kind of made me think about it again.”
“He seems like he’d be good with kids.”
“When we babysit my nephew, he’s really good with him. And he’s always been so attentive to me in everything, so I just know he would double down during pregnancy. He’d take bullets for me. He’d protect me, he’d bring me all my favorite foods he’d take care of me-”
“He really should be doing that all the time, not just when you’re pregnant. Like, what kind of cavewoman logic is this? Are you in heat or something?”
You take another bite of your froyo and savor it.
You’ve known Jia forever, and at this point her comments to you about your love life just go in one ear and out the other. She’s the one who introduced you to Minho, actually, so you’d thought maybe she’d spare you the lectures, but she seems to think your impulsivity would overrule Minho’s common sense. This isn’t you being impulsive, though. You’ve actually thought about it an embarrassing amount- the concept of Minho fathering your children. It’s not just some passing fancy.
When you’re thoroughly done enjoying your vanilla-passion fruit swirl, you deign to answer her.
“First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all, no I’m not in heat. Is it so wrong to dream of motherhood? To yearn for something to care for?”
“You have three cats and seven potted plants.”
“I mean something that can love me back.”
“I’m telling Dori you said that.”
You ignore her, already lost in your little domestic fantasy. You could already imagine it. You could have a little girl who looked exactly like you. Or maybe just like you with Minho’s pretty eyes. You’ll develop all the “mom skills”, like sewing and kissing boo-boos and making baking soda volcanoes. And Minho would be there, giving her piggyback rides and pushing her on swing sets. He’d call both of you his “princesses” and you could take cute family photos for Christmas and mail them all your relatives. A perfect domestic life.
“Hello? Earth to y/n?”
You blink. Jia is looking at you with an exasperated expression.
“I’d ask you what you’re thinking about, but I already know.”
“Oh, really.”
“You only get that stupid expression on your face when you think about Minho.” Jia crumples up her trash and reaches behind her to throw it in a trash can. “Does he know you are having delusions of domesticity?”
“It’s not delusional. We’ve been together for like two years. We’ve talked about the future.”
“So he wants kids?”
“He wants whatever I want,” you say, and you can hear the lovesickness in your voice even before Jia lets out a long-suffering sigh.
“Go ask him to get you pregnant right now then. He seems like the type to think that’s really hot.”
“Everything I do is hot. I’m a catch. I’d look extra hot pregnant. Working so hard even when I’m just sitting around all day.”
“Your favorite activity.”
You wink cheekily. “Of course. You should give it a try sometime.”
“Give what a try?”
A familiar voice from behind you makes you perk up. You whip around to see your boyfriend in the flesh, coming up behind you. He’s finally arrived. His presence improves your mood by approximately one thousand percent. You can sit up straighter and breathe deeper. The sun shines brighter on your face. His pace is so leisurely that it’s driving you mad. You want to stand up and drag him closer to you, so that as much of you is touching you as possible. The meter between you feels like a nautical mile.
Christ, maybe you are in heat. You think it’s possible you’ve been permanently ovulating since you met Minho. Just seeing him coming has you contemplating breaking several civil laws.
Jia rats you out immediately. “We’re talking about pregnancy.”
“Oh.” Minho stops where he is, as if blocked by an invisible wall. “Is someone you know expecting?”
“Not yet,” Jia says.
“Jia,” you hiss.
Jia ignores you, revenge for forcing her to listen to you for the past half hour.
“Y/n thinks that pregnancy suits her lifestyle. She thinks she’d look hot pregnant. What’s your opinion on the topic?”
“Don’t answer that,” you tell him. “Jia, come on.”
Jia shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that crazy of a question. Your boyfriend should think you look hot all the time.”
“And I do,” Minho interjects, smiling slyly. “Especially right now, as you’re staring daggers at me.”
Jia leans up and stage whispers to Minho, eyes still trained on you. “She specifically said ‘extra hot’, just so you know.”
“I struggle to think she could get any hotter,” Minho says in answering stage whisper. “She’d look equally pretty frozen solid, or zombified.”
 “You know the saying is ‘until death do us part?’ You don’t have to keep loving her as a zombie.”
You try to be annoyed but you’re too busy cheesing for it to have any effect. “Okay haha fun’s over. Take me home now.”
Jia boos you as Minho grabs your hand to help you off the bench.
“As you wish,” he says, and kisses your hand with a flourish.
“I’ve gotta get going too. See you later, y/n.” She stands up and grabs her bag, then pauses and turns back. “If you’re pregnant the next time I see you, I will kill you.”
“You seriously give me no credit.”
Jia gives you an absolutely withering look and walks off.
“I shouldn’t have even brought it up,” you say mournfully. “She’s gonna start keeping tabs on me.”
“We’ll lock our doors and windows,” Minho says, and presses a kiss to your hair. “Home?”
Later that night, you’re lying on the couch searching up pictures of baby clothes. You have an entire Pinterest board for your future baby, and today’s scene at the park has inspired you to add to the collection. You scroll through little images of kids in duck outfits and Hello Kitty themed socks, of cute little barrettes to put in their wispy bangs. Your kids are going to be so well-dressed. They’ll make the other toddlers at the daycare jealous, and maybe even the moms too.
That’s good, though. It’s important to learn how to deal with adversity from a young age.
Your daughter is gonna be so well socialized and assertive and thick-skinned, just like her parents. She’ll get such good grades and be very polite. And you’ll get to show up to parent teacher conferences as the hottest mom in the entire class, which will be good for your ego, and then you can pass that confidence down to your child. It’ll be perfect. Your life will be perfect. You can see it in such clear and vivid detail.
Minho passes by you on the way back from the bathroom and glances down at your phone.
“Baby clothes?”
You blink up at him. You’re not embarrassed at being caught, but you are a little annoyed that he’s interrupted your daydreaming with one of his gateway questions.
“Yes. Our future child has to be up on fashion trends.”
“The fashion trends will have changed by the time you have a baby to dress up.”
To your own surprise, your heart actually stutters with the reminder that you are currently not, in fact, with child.
“Don’t remind me,” you whine, rolling over to hide your face in the cushions. “Jia already lectured me today.”
“Lectured?”
You partially roll back over to look up at him. “She says that I’m being delusional for wanting a baby so badly.”
“How is wanting to be a mother delusional?”
“Right? And I told her like what are you talking about, we’ve already talked about the future, and we’re gonna have kids, and she just gave me this look.”
“Jia’s just looking out for you. She doesn’t want you to rush into things.”
“Jia is a cynic and a skeptic. She thinks we’re too young to have a baby.”
“Well, aren’t we?”
“Are we?” Your visions of being a MILF dance through your head. “I think having kids young would be cute.”
Now Minho looks skeptical. “Really? Since when.”
“Since I had a paradigm shift. I always knew I wanted them, in a vague sense. But now I know that I want to have them with you, specifically, so it’s been on my mind a lot more.”
“You want to have my kids?”
You bristle. “Well they’d be my kids, too, y’know.”
“I know that-”
“And who else’s kids would they be? Do you envision us breaking up?”
“Absolutely not,” Minho says. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
“Right. So then eventually I’ll be having your kids. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
Minho sits down next to you on the couch. “That’s really what you want?”
“Yes?” A single pang of doubt flashes across your chest. “Do you not want that?”
“No, I do, baby. I’d love to have a family with you. I just want to be sure we’re on the same page, and we’ve thought it through.”
“Well, like you said, we’re still young.” Jia’s admonishment of not being married flashes through your mind. “But sometimes I see little kids in public, or on TV, and I think, God, I want a baby so bad. Y’know? I want to be pregnant. I want to glow like that, and everything.”
Something complicated passes over his face. A lightbulb goes off in your head. It’s the same expression that he had when Jia had mentioned to him the topic of your conversation.
“Oh my god. You actually do think I’d look hot pregnant.”
“Didn’t I say that at the mall?”
“No, you were teasing me. But now you’re being for real. You want to knock me up.”
Minho says nothing, but the tips of his ears redden. You shoot upright, delighted at the turn of events.
“Oh my god, you actually want to knock me up!”
“Would you rather I didn’t?”
“No! Of course not. I want to be the only girl you want, and I want you to want me in every way.”
“Well you are, and I do,” he says flatly. “Congratulations.”
“Congratulations is right,” you say. You’re giddy with energy. “Have you thought about it a bunch? Is that why you wanted me on the pill? So you could cum in me and indulge your breeding kink?”
“I don’t have a breeding kink.I just love you. There’s a difference.”
“You’ve said at least five times today you think I’d be hot while I’m pregnant,” you remind him. “Seems kind of breeding kink-ish to me.”
“You have spent the entire day fantasizing about having my kids. That’s the definition of a breeding kink.” Minho leans further into your space, and though his words are teasing, his tone is decidedly not. You feel heat start to run through you, and not from embarrassment. You scoot closer to him, pulled by magnetic forces beyond your comprehension.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just life planning. I’m making vision boards.” The lie is so flimsy your lips trip as you try to say it.
“Uh-huh. Right. Because you normally start breathing heavy when you make vision boards.”
“This is unfair. Of course I’ll get turned on when you start talking like this.”
“Like what?” he says, leaning even closer. You can feel his breath on your face, and a shiver goes down your spine.
“Like you’re going to fucking breed me.”
His smile is absolutely feline. “That can be arranged.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Baby, I want whatever you want.”
You grab onto his shoulders, tight. “Then take me to bed, hot stuff.”
His eyes darken. A hand comes up to your face, and he kisses you gently. He grabs you by the hand…
and of course, he gives you what you want.
Your period is a week late.
It’s actually Minho who notices and points it out, which causes you to freak out and call Jia, who freaks out worse than you and demands that you go to the store immediately and buy a test. You get three different brands, and also an entire chocolate cake which will either be for congratulations or for emotional support.
Minho waits outside the bathroom door, an encouraging presence as you try to calm yourself down enough to read the labels.
“Whatever happens, I’m here,” he tells you. You can’t tell whether he wants it to be positive or negative. You aren’t even sure what you want. Yes, you want a baby, yes, babymaking sex is hot and you want to keep having it whether it gets you knocked up or not, but you’re both still young, and he has a career, and your apartment doesn’t have a third bedroom so there’d be nowhere for the nursery that you’ve already meticulously planned out in your mind-
The timer goes off. You open your eyes and look down.
“Negative,” you say, loud enough for Minho to hear outside the door. “All of them.”
Minho doesn’t say anything. You let out a deep breath, tension falling out of you, and open the door. Minho is on the other side, expression cautious.
“Is it bad that I’m a little disappointed?” he says, and his tone is joking but the words stick in your chest because you agree. The relief you expected to feel is nowhere to be found.
“I hope not, because that makes two of us.”
He draws you into a hug, and you sink into him, processing all the events of the last hour.
“And I was all ready to start building a crib.”
You snort. “Picking up carpentry as a hobby?”
“A real father should work with their hands. I need thick, callused hands to hold my baby with, so they feel smaller and daintier by comparison.”
“Wild thing to say, honestly.”
“It works on you.”
You break free and shove him playfully. “You’re ridiculous. You’d be a good father even with your soft city boy hands.”
“You think so?” he says, his tone heavier than before. You don’t even hesitate.
“Yes. Any child would be lucky to have you as a father.” You sigh dramatically. “Unfortunately it seems my uterus didn’t pull through this time.”
Minho is silent for a moment. “Well. We could…try again.”
You stare at him. “Sorry?”
“I mean, you said I’d be a good father. You said you wished the test was positive. I want that too. Just because it didn’t work this time doesn’t mean that-”
“Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Are you serious?” You’re gob smacked. You can’t believe that your usually cautious boyfriend is proposing you have a baby right now.
“I’m serious,” he confirms. “You’d be such a good mom. And I know how much you want this.”
“And you think I’d look hot pregnant.”
“Obviously,” he says, without a hint of jest.
“But I’m- we’re so young, and I’m unemployed, and-”
“Sorry, were you planning on getting a job any time soon?”
Your cheeks heat up. “Oh shut up.”
“No, it’s perfect. You can be a loving stay-at-home mom. I’ll be the breadwinner.”
“Stop it. Stop talking this way. You’re- do you know how pissed my friends would be? What would I tell Jia? She almost bit my head off over the phone earlier, did you hear her? She was so pissed that I was thinking of motherhood instead of marriage-”
“Then let’s get married.”
“Don’t start.”
“Y/n, I’m not joking.”
You actually think you’re going to faint. Your heart is racing and you’re breaking out in a sweat. Is it hot in here? Did you forget to pay the AC bill this month?”
“Are you proposing to me right now?” You’re trying to joke but you’re breathless. “You’re proposing to me as a gimmick to get me to bear your children?”
Minho cringes. “Saying it like that makes me sound manipulative.”
“It’s kinda manipulative.”
“You’re the one who said you wanted to be married before having kids. And I want to do both of those things with you eventually, so why not now?”
Your vision is blurring. For a moment you worry you actually are fainting, but then you realize that you’re crying instead.
“Stop playing with me, Minho, I’m so serious.”
“I’m not playing with you. I actually already bought a ring, but I didn’t know if the timing was right. Like you said, we’re young, and I didn’t know how you felt about getting married so soon. So I thought I’d ask eventually but-”
You lunge forward and kiss him. If you’d felt stressed earlier while taking the test, that’s nothing compared to the depth of emotion you’re feeling now as you hold each other. It’s like joy is filling you up so much that you don’t know where your body behind and ends.
When you finally separate, Minho asks,
“Is that a yes?”
“You’re not proposing to me in our living room,” you tell him. “You have to ask me again. Later. Don’t even show me the ring. Wait, what color is it? You know I only wear gold.”
“You think I’d forget something like that? I’m going to be your husband. I know what jewelry you wear.”
If he wasn’t holding you up, you think you’d actually collapse to the ground from the way you absolutely swoon.
“Propose to me again and I’ll say yes. Right now, I need you to put a baby in me.”
“You want to walk down the aisle pregnant? Your dream wedding dress has a corset.”
“Oh my god, we’ll do it before I start showing, just fuck me, please!”
Minho doesn’t make you ask a third time.
330 notes · View notes
sterredem · 11 months ago
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Big steps
Lando Norris x Royal!Reader
Face claim: girls on Pinterest + Taylor swift (for outfits)
Summary: meeting the royal family a big step for Lando, especially when they are your girlfriends familie… and the media is there too
Word count: 1987
Warning: hate?, not proofread
A/N: this is the fic for the results of the poll! I hope you like it. I chose England as the country because I thought it would be interesting with the whole akte Middleton thing. I do not know a lot about the real royal family but this is how i imagine it.
Also reader will be the oldest daughter of Princess Kate and prince William she will be 22 years old. I know this will not be logical with the time line of them being married and stuff but we will just ignore that.
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Y/n knew that her life was different, she was the princess nonetheless. But she didn’t expect this.
She had always loved motor sports and when she got the chance to attend a race in her country she always did.
But still she didn’t see this coming. It all happened so fast. First them meeting, him not knowing who she was so making a fool out of himself. Then Agee that him figuring it out and still liking her for her. Not het status or fame, no just her. Then them continuing to talk for a while. And then a few months after him asking the big questions, her saying yes and the now.
Het introduceren het boyfriend Lando Norris to her family. And of course he had met them already. They where the royal family of England his home land after all. But still, this was different.
Because now he will be introduced as her boyfriend. And that was pretty big thing for him, he will first be meeting her parents and with the recent controversy surrounding princess Kate that will be a bit nerve wracking for him. But after that it will be a bit more relaxing and he will meet her siblings.
But he knew this would come eventually, he was dating the princess so he should meet the royal family eventually. And now that it had been a few months since him asking her it was about time for him to meet them.
So when Lando arrived at the gates of Adelaide Cottage and saw y/n standing there in her full beauty with her gorgeous yellow flower dress he knew he was in for a rollercoaster.
So after taking a deep breath he walked forward to his girlfriend to meet her family.
“Het Lan. You ready?” She asked with her charming smile and her kind voice.
“Yeah. Just a bit nervous.” He said with a small laugh trying to not make it awkward.
“Hey it’s going to be alright. They are going to love you and you are going to see that the royal family is not just a bunch of rich people that rule the country.” She said teasing him a bit with his Nieves but still keeping it light.
“Okay. I’m ready love.” He said now being a bit more relaxed with what the princess said.
“Okay. Come on I will show you around first and then you can meet my parents.” She said while grabbing his hand and gently tugging him towards the garden. “We should go around the garden first and then I will show you the inside, but there might be a chance we will run into my family so that’s why I will first show you the outside.”
“Okay that’s good” Lando said while walking after her. “Hey y/n…?” Lando asked now nervous again with what he wanted to ask.
“Yeah? What is going on love?” She asked wanting to know what her boyfriend was nervous about.
“Umm… have you’re family said anything about me?” He asked now a bit embarrassed about asking. But he wanted to know because they were her family after all. So if they already thought something about him then he wanted to know so that he knew how to make a good first impression.
“Well they asked about you yeah. And they asked the basic things and did a background check. But they think you are all good. They only know the basic facts and a few of the things I have told you.” She said smiling a bit while talking. Thinking it was cute with how he was so worried with how they will think about her.
But the princess knew that they would like the driver. They did to the search because you wouldn’t want the princess to date a serial killer. But they did it and he was all good. And with a few things she told them about. They seem to be excited about meeting him. But it is maybe not the best time with princess Kate recently being diagnosed with cancer and with the loads of controversy around the family. But now that it was all revealed it was about time for them to meet her boyfriend of 9 months.
She also knew that it was almost a year in there relationship and that he I shuts know meeting her family. But with them both being busy they just hadn’t hat the time.
“Okay that’s good.” The driver said now being relaxed again. But still having doubts in his mind.
After that they walked around the garden and talked a bit more.
When they were done outside they got to the entrance and she showed him the inside.
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When she showed his most of the house, he only had a few more rooms to see. But she knew that her family would be in those rooms. So she stood still for a second to talk to him.
“Okay Lando. On that room will be my parents. Are you ready?” She asked a bit nervous for him. She knew that they would like- no even love him.
“I think I am. Just mentally prepared myself” he laughed a bit while saying the last bit. He was less nervous than when he arrived but it still isn’t fully gone.
“Hey it’s going to be fine. My parents are probably the most nerve wracking but when we meet my siblings it will be a lot better.
Lando thought about it and prepared a bit more. He took a few deep breaths and then looked up at his princess again. “Okay I’m ready”
“Okay, come on in.” She said with a smile squeezing his hand softly and leading him in to the room. She opens the door slowly after looking at him one last time.
“Hey, we are here” y/n said tugging Lando in the room with her and then closing the door. Her parents sat at the table at the room and when they saw them they stood up and walked to them.
“Hello Lando, it’s good to finally meet you.” Prince William said to Lando while shaking his head.
“Hello Lando it’s nice to finally meet you. We have heard a lot about you.” Princess Kate said with a smile on her face while shaking her head after her husband was done.
“Hello it is an honour to meet you.” he said with a shy smile after shaking the royal pair’s hands.
The youngest princess in the room smiled at her boyfriend and her parents. She was happy that they finally met.
After a bit of ice breaking with small talk they were all a lot more comfortable with each other.
After what seemed really short but was actually an hour Lando and y/n decided that they should meet her siblings. So they said goodbye to her parents and made a promise to meet again and then walked a bit further into the house to the next room with her siblings.
Lando was a lot less nervous to meet them. He met her parents and that was good so meeting Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis would also be alright.
Once they came to the room his girlfriend turned to him. “Okay this will be more relaxing. They know you and will probably first be a bit protective but then they will be more teasing. So nothing to worry about.” She said while smiling.
“Okay. I’m ready love” Lando said feeling relaxed with his girlfriend.
She opened the door and they walked in. Her siblings turned to her and immediately stood up. They walked towards the pair and inspected Lando immediately.
“So you are Lando? Y/n’a boyfriend?” Princess Charlotte asked.
George begin talking immediately after. “Wait are you the racing driver?” He asked getting a bit excited with that he and his sister both like Formula 1.
Lando didn’t even get to speak because Prine Louis began talking “so you are the man she can’t stop talking about” he said with a teasing smile.
Y/n was already beginning to get tired with them so interrupted them before they were going to overwhelm Lando with questions. “Okay guys stop with all that. Yes this is my boyfriend, Lando. Lando this is George, Charlotte and Louis. Guys this is Lando. And yes George he is the racing driver. And Louis don’t say that.”
“Hello everyone” Lando said already going in to his being with kids mode a bit.
After the first bit of the awkward conversation it all became better and y/n was right. They were now a lot more teasing instead of protective. But it was still fun.
And they asked a lot of questions. Like ‘what was it like with Lewis Hamilton?’ ‘Have you really not won a race?’ ‘What is it like being a F1 driver?’ And Lando was able to answer every one of them. And he enjoyed it a lot. He enjoyed hanging out with his girlfriend and her siblings. And enjoyed there questions and there small arguments and teasing bond.
After what again felt quite short but what was actually 2 hours they decided that it was a long enough day and said goodbye to her siblings. They again promised to meet again and now walked outside to the car.
“So what did you think?” y/n asked with a small smile thinking back with how good he was with her family.
“It was great. They are all very kind and it was better than expected.” Lando said while looking at his girlfriend. While talking they walked to the car (with of course a private driver).
Once they came to the car he opens the door for her and they stepped in. “That’s great!”
While talking they didn’t notice people taking pictures. And that was a bit of a problem, because while they are dating for quite a while. They have not yet announced it. They will eventually but they wanted to wait a bit and see where it was going. Even a lot of the drivers didn’t know that they were dating. The only people on the grid that knew was the McLaren team, his teammate and Carlos. All because McLaren needed to know so they could keep it private, Oscar knew because she was in the garage a few times (in secret) and so he had questions and then Lando explained. And Carlos knew because Lando and him are great friends so he just told him.
So if it came out that it was them then that would be problematic.
But because they didn’t know they didn’t really care. So they drove to her house and they spent the rest of the day together.
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After the tweets Lando and y/n (together with their PR teams) decided that it was time for them to go public. So they took pictures, made a caption and posted it
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Instagram
Lando Norris and the royal family
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Liked by: GeorgeRussel, maxverstappen and 20.000.000 others
We are proud to announce that Princess Y/n and Mr.Norris are happily in a relationship and they are happy to finally show it to the world.
Comments are limited
Maxverstappen: Why do I only hear about this now?
GeorgeRussel: Lando Some explaining please?
CarlosSainz: I am happy to say that in knew all along!
Oscarpiastri: finally announcing it? Happy for you both! (I also already knew!)
McLaren: Happy for the (kind of) new couple! (Admin also already know!)
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After finally announcing that they were dating Lando got a lot of messages from confused drivers. And the couple had a fun time laughing about it.
Lando explained it to them and when Y/n made her first paddock appearance at his home race as his girlfriend. Let’s just say it was a wild day.
But they knew they could live trough it. And with Lando now having met her family and her eventually having met his and the drivers they where very happy and knew that they where many to be.
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Bonus:
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A/N: This is a longer fix than the last. But I deeply like it! I hope you also like it! I really tried to make it as long as possible but still make it fun. I also personally really like the twitter ‘beef’ between user6 and user7. Let me know what you think! And please Like comment or reblog! I would love feedback
I am not really happy with how it turned out but I hope you enjoy it! Please tell me if I made an error or something!
681 notes · View notes
sleepymarimo · 2 years ago
Text
𝕨𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕤
summary: after becoming the greatest swordsman and learning of his bloodline, the next logical step for zoro would be to return to wano and marry into the kozuki family, right? if only you didn't look so good as a bridesmaid... pairing: zoro x afab!reader cw: mdni, vaginal sex, drunk sex, infidelity, cursing, mutual pining an: this idea has been in my head for a while, so... enjoy!
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It's the day of the wedding.
Well, his wedding.
After being the world's greatest swordsman for a few years, Zoro had decided that he had wanted to return to Wano. He never explained why, barking at whoever asked him that it was none of their damn business. The crumpled up paper you'd found in the corner of the training room, which contained details about his lineage, gave you an idea of why he was adamant on returning.
The swordsman was someone you admired very much, from his sometimes frustrating temper to his unshakable will. After sailing together for so long, it was difficult to not develop feelings for him. You liked to think that the two of you were relatively close or at the very least that he tolerated your presence more than others. He never strayed too far from you and even shared his sake with you on occasion, his annoyed grumbles doing little to hide how much he enjoyed providing for you- even if it was just a sip from his bottle.
Your outlooks on life might have been different, but there was a lot to learn from one another. This learning was often done on warm nights aboard the Sunny after a few bottles of sake and a playful spar. Even when there were no conversations happening, you'd enjoy the comfortable silence and the sense of security he brought to you.
Yet, ever since he had achieved his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman, you had to admit that he seemed… different. He of course was as brash as ever, always ready to stand by the crew and act as a protector when necessary, but he seemed to be itching for something. He was lost, plain and simple.
Your mind, ever tumbling with thoughts, wonders what the green haired samurai's goal was in returning to Wano. To reconnect with his roots? To stay? You doubted he would, but the thought still made your stomach drop.
Now, a few weeks later, here you are at the wedding celebration of Zoro and soon-to-be-wife, Hiyori.
Celebration is an understatement, as the whole thing could be confused for a festival. An entire courtyard full of seats, all open to the people of Wano. Its extravagant and lavish, with vendors and performers ensuring that the party would last well into the night. The tables are piled high with a plethora of food and sake. Hiyori had wanted a grand ceremony and it was definitely something, though the large crowd and the unavoidable spotlight didn't seem like something Zoro would enjoy. After the bachelor party, which involved the guys drinking until they couldn't stand, Brook spilled to you and the girls that Zoro hadn't even been the one to propose. Allegedly, he was just going with whatever his teal-haired partner wanted, and she was happy to take over as long as she had the samurai by her side.
The whole thing didn't quite sit right with you, something gnawing at your chest. Jealousy? Worry? You weren't exactly comfortable bringing it up with anyone else, but judging by the knowing looks that Robin sent your way or how Luffy would gaze off to the side and pucker his lips at the mention of the wedding, you could tell that you weren't alone in your thoughts. While you would ask Zoro yourself, the way he responded to Luffy's meddling a couple of days ago has you hesitant to do so.
"But Zoro!" Luffy had whined, wrapping his limbs around the swordsman with a pout. "What about-" Zoro's words were spoken through clenched teeth, one of his calloused hands tightening into the fabric of Luffy's red kimono. "I dare you to keep talking."
Currently, you're chatting it up with Nami and Robin in the bride's quarters. The three of you are in the bridal party, getting ready for the celebration that is soon to be underway. As per Hiyori's request, the bridesmaids are fitted into navy blue kimonos that are woven from the softest material you've ever felt. Your hair is neatly styled and your makeup light as you help the other girls get ready for the wedding. Your chest tightens every time your eyes glance over at Hiyori, her radiant beauty and cheerful demeanor causing your confidence to waver.
The whole thing has you craving some alone time before you go out there and watch your vice captain be wed, so you stand from your mat and give Nami and Robin a small, slightly forced smile. "Hey, I'm gonna take a quick walk. D'you guys remember where that nice koi pond was at?"
Something flashes in Robin's eyes and she sits up a little straighter, giving you one of those smiles that you've come associate with trouble. She gives you directions, but they're a little all over the place and have you questioning every turn. You'd been wandering around the halls for a while now, sure that you were lost as you murmured some curses to yourself.
You're about to turn back altogether when you pick up on a familiar energy. It's Zoro's, of course it is, but there's something different about it. The closer you get to the groom's quarters, the more you pick up on the underlying currents of unease than emanate from his aura. Worry grows in your chest, as such levels of doubt and anxiety weren't usually present in the swordsman. The fact that he isn't even bothering to conceal these emotions is even more concerning, since you knew he had a very good grip on his haki.
One of your hands comes up to lightly knock on the sliding wooden door. You give a small greeting, telling him that it's you.
Zoro, who had been staring blankly at the wall with a bottle of sake in his hand, snapped out of his daze when he heard your voice. He quickly straightened up, his usual irritation returning to his face as he roped in the tendrils of unease that he had unintentionally let slip loose.
"What the hell do you want?" He grumbled, his voice a bit hoarse from the tension. He didn't bother to open the door, expecting you to understand that he wanted to be alone.
“Zoro…” You sigh, your tone laced with caution as you stand behind the door and make it clear that you won't budge until he confirms that he is alright.
"Seriously, I'm fine.” He replied, his voice strained. "Just leave me alone. I'll be out in a minute." His tone was defensive. Though he tried to hide it, he couldn't deny that the weight of the wedding and everything that came with it was overwhelming him. The anxiety and doubts were gnawing at him more than he cared to admit.
Before he could ask you to go away again, he felt a knot forming in his chest. He sighed, realizing that shutting you out wouldn't solve anything. You of all people could ground him, could be there for him when he was feeling things he had no idea how to process. It was a trait of yours he envied, your ability to show people warmth and empathy without a second thought. He needed that, needed you, needed every bit of you.
He finally slid open the door and revealed himself, looking disheveled and restless. His bandana on his arm was slightly askew, and the collar of his ceremonial kimono was tugged open, the belt loose. His green hair seemed even messier than usual, disheveled.
"What the fu-" Your eyes widen and you quickly enter the room, sliding the door closed behind you. The sight of him makes you raise your hands up to help, but they remain suspended in the air as you ponder where to even begin with him. The smell of sake is strong, his posture tense and his eyes slightly blown from the copious amounts of alcohol that's in his system.
“I don’t- Zoro, what’s going on?” You ask, your head tilting.
A light sigh tumbles past your lips as you tug his kimono closed, scrambling to soothe out any wrinkles and make him slightly more presentable. Where were the rest of the groomsmen? Grumbles are all you hear from him and it doesn’t make the process any easier. After you attempt to smoothen out his hair, he scowls and ruffles it up again.
“This whole damn ceremony.” He growls, shaking off your hands and turning on his heel as he walks to the table to open up another bottle. “It’s not-“
A long sigh is heard from him, the sound rumbling in his chest. He takes a long swig from the bottle, wiping away the excess sake from his lips using the back of his hand. He shakes his head and turns back to meet your gaze, taking a few steps forward until he’s in front of you. When he speaks, his tone is stern but forced, like he’s putting in effort to remain calm. “I’m not sure this is what I want.”
His admission leaves you momentarily stunned as you try to make sense of his words. Your hands fidget at your sides, your voice laced with concern. “The wedding? Hiyori?” His state ignites something within you, an overwhelming urge to comfort him in any way you can. "I thought you wanted to come back to Wano."
“Both.” He confesses, spitting out the word like it was made of poison. “And I did. I’m just, damn it, I don’t know! I'm already the greatest swordsman, so I should be out here and doing all this domestic shit, right? Coming back to Wano like my ancestors would've wanted? Marrying into the damn Kozuki family?"
The pieces slowly come together. A swordsman who has accomplished his dream and is unsure of what goal to chase next. On paper, it sounded ideal, like a fantasy that only one in a million could achieve. Yet, Zoro is restless and unable to feel at ease. He's taken to following expectations in a bid to fill the small gap of emptiness that came with establishing himself as the strongest swordsman, a title he fought for almost his whole life. Now that he had completed it, he struggled to find purpose, to find a use for himself other than being a fighter.
His frustration is clear, from the way his jaw tenses to the rigidity of his stance. He’s itching to release his emotional tension, his body twitching in anticipation. It's like watching a caged animal. You’re silent for a moment and sense that he has more to say. He huffs and stares down at you with an almost unreadable expression, the distant sounds of the celebration barely audible through the wooden door.
His mouth opens, before he quickly closes it and clenches his teeth together, looking away. Red tinges his cheeks, from the alcohol or something else, you cannot tell.
“Can I try something?” He asks with only a slight slur, stepping closer. His voice is low and gravelly, his eye shining with a drunken determination that hides something you can't pinpoint just yet. “To see if I’m doing the right thing? With the right person?”
You release a breath that you don’t even know you’re holding, nodding slightly. You’re unsure of what to expect, but there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your crew, especially Zoro.
“Yeah.” You affirm, your voice a bit more timid than you would’ve wanted as you feel the heat radiating from his body into yours.
He grunts in acknowledgment, his eye assessing each and every one of your movements. For a few seconds, he doesn’t do anything. As you’re about to open your mouth, he brings a hand up and places it at the nape of your neck.
You don’t even have time to ask him what he is doing before he brings his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter closed, nails digging into your palms as they tighten in response to the sensation.
It was wrong, wasn’t it? Here he was in his groom’s attire, his own wedding ceremony about to be underway. You should be pulling away, stopping him from betraying the woman he was set to marry within the hour.
Yet, when his tongue swipes across your lower lip, you part them without question. He groans. His other hand finds purchase on your hip, rubbing circles on the sensitive flesh there using his thumb. The sake from his tongue fills your tastebuds as he eagerly explores your mouth, drinking in the taste of you as if it were his own brand of liquor.
You couldn't resist him even if you tried, your hands sliding under the collar of his kimono and gliding along the skin of his shoulders and chest. He melts under your touch and takes this as a sign to bring you closer to him, eliciting a gasp from your lips when you feel his already half-hard cock rutting against your tummy.
A string of saliva tethers you two together when you finally pull away, your face hot as he stares down at you with a possessive affection. His gaze shifts from your eyes to the rest of your form, your figure accentuated by the kimono that hugs you.
The effort he puts in is minimal as he wraps his arms around you and raises you off the ground, your hands tightening on his shoulders, though he wouldn't dare drop you. He lays you on one of the soft mats which adorn the groom's quarters, kneeling between your legs and lazily grinding his hips against yours. The sensation has your back arching and your panties dampening.
"Least Hiyori can do one thing right." He drunkenly groans as he continues to grind his dick against your clothed slit, his hands firmly gripping your thighs as he looks down at you. His words are slightly slurred, the lust in them more than apparent. "Gettin' you all nice n' pretty for me, wrapped up like a fuckin' gift."
You hiss and buck your hips to meet his thrusts against your core, your hands tugging at the collars of your kimono in a bid to find some reprieve from the heat that's coursing through your veins. He gets the idea and doesn't waste another second before sliding the fabric off of your shoulders.
His steel colored eye drinks in every inch of you, his hips jolting forward when his calloused hands cup your breasts and knead the soft flesh. Your whines only increase when his thumbs tease your hardened nipples, sending waves of pleasure right to your core. You catch sight of his tongue swiping across his lip before he leans forward and captures one of the pebbled buds into his mouth.
Your hands tangle into his green hair as you hold him there, his fingers lightly tugging and rolling at one nipple while his tongue swirls greedily around the other. The groan he lets out against your breast is desperate and hungry, his hips continuing to grind against yours. He's completely hard by now, and what you feel against your clothes has you thinking about how full you're going to be.
Its already too much and you swear that you're seeing stars.
Through pants, you manage to grab his free hand in one of yours and guide it towards your aching cunt. As soon as his hand slips past the waistband of your underwear, his fingers become coated in your arousal. They swirl just outside your entrance before coming up and messily rubbing at your clit, making you gasp and clench around nothing. When he finally slides a finger inside, your walls pulse around the sudden intrusion. He shudders, wondering just how good it'll feel around his cock.
He adds another finger, then another, every thrust and curl bringing you closer and closer to the edge. When he hits a particularly sensitive spot, you choke out a low moan. "There, there, there!" You cry, feeling your thighs starting to tense.
A low, guttural noise erupts from his throat at the way your pussy is starting to tighten around his fingers. He tugs on your nipple a little harder, his teeth grazing along the other. The sound of wet slaps echo throughout the room and its downright dirty, only increasing your desire for him. Your pupils are blown when you look down at him, his ceremonial kimono making him look unbearably handsome. He makes for one hell of a groom.
When you gasp, he gives your nipple one last lick before gazing up at your face, eager to see you come undone. "C'mon dollface, give it to me." He gruffly orders, curling his fingers just a little more.
You only babble his name before everything gets hazy. Your walls clamp around him and your hips buck desperately into his fingers. The waves of pleasure cascade down your whole body and in the midst of it all, Zoro leans forward and captures your mouth in his. He eagerly swallows all of your moans and cries, continuing to thrust his fingers into you until he deemed it necessary to stop.
Satisfied by the blissed out look on your face, he tugs off his hakama and frees his cock from its confines. He gives it a stroke or two to relieve some of the tension, before he aids you in shedding the rest of your kimono.
He settles once more between your thighs. His eye is fixed on the wetness pooling in your core, his hand lazily guiding the head of his cock up and down your slit.
“Been thinkin’ about this pussy for way too long.” He growls, positioning himself in front of your entrance.
His tone has you whining, your hips gyrating in a way that has his tip slipping into your cunt. The action has him groaning, his patience finally snapping as he buries himself inside of you to the hilt.
The stretch is mind blowing, your hands coming up to his biceps and squeezing the taut muscles in an attempt to ground yourself. Your body reacts to the sudden fullness by clenching tightly around him, the spasms only serving to heighten his pleasure. The grip he has on your hips strengthens and you’re sure it’ll bruise.
In his drunken state he wastes no time, his hips hammering into yours with utter desire. His breaths are heavy as he stares down at you, enamored by how your mouth hangs open and how you cling to him so desperately.
Your back arches, hips angling in a way that has jolts of pleasure running up your spine.
“H-hah! Zoro!” You babble, your whole body hot with delight. His biceps feel like steel under your palms, the sensation making your head feel even lighter.
Your pleas spur him further and he tugs your body closer until your thighs rest snugly atop of his. He releases his grip on your hips, placing his forearms on either side of your head as his thrusts become short and forceful. The muscles in your legs tense at the new angle and you mewl.
The tip of his cock pounds into your cervix, making you let out a choked moan as the pain and pleasure mingle into one glorious sensation. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you bury your head into his neck. With a light head, you plant sloppy, open mouthed kisses onto the sensitive flesh there in an attempt to return a fraction of the pleasure he’s giving you.
“Fuck!” A groan tears out of his throat and you can feel the vibration from his chest. “Takin’ me so well.”
A particularly sharp thrust has your breath hitching and your eyelids fluttering, your head falling back slightly. His cheek is pressed against yours, his skin cool and clammy from the thin layer of sweat that has formed on his body.
Your eyes lose focus and you pant helplessly. His earrings dangle in front of your face, the metal pieces clinking together in a rhythmic melody that rings louder than the wedding bells banging in the distance. “S-S’good!” You stammer, your grip on him tightening.
Another curse or two spills from his lips, his words grunted through clenched teeth. “Yeah? That right?” He smirks, absolutely reveling in your pleasured state, his core tightening as your body clamps around him in the most delicious way. You have him close, too close, and he doesn’t want this to be over just yet.
His cheeks are colored red when he sits up and pulls out of you. A whine falls from your mouth, pleading with him as you buck your hips for any sort of touch. Your thighs hang over his, while his frame towers over you. “M’not done with you, yet.” He roughly reassures while he brings a hand up to your thigh and rubs gentle circles.
He starts to run his other hand up and down his length, positioning the head of his cock right up against your puffy clit as he jerks himself off to the sight of you. Every stroke of his hand has your hips bucking in pleasure as his tip hits and swirls against you, the clitoral stimulation sending you spiraling. There’s not much to do other than writhe and babble praises at him as you feel your climax inching closer, his tip leaking precum right onto your wet clit. You feel another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil in your tummy ready to burst.
"C'mon!" You whine, your hips bucking as you look up at him with desire-glazed eyes. "Zoro, please! Wanna cum!"
He doesn't deny you, he never would, so he makes sure to keep hitting that spot until you're arching and mewling for him. The way your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open has his chest swirling with pride. Just as you get pushed over the edge, he makes his move.
Without much warning other than a low growl, he folds you in half until your thighs hug your chest and your ankles rest on his shoulders. His hands are secured under your knees, ensuring that you won't wriggle out of his hold. In this position, your pussy is presented to him beautifully and he sinks into you as you cum.
Your walls are still spasming, clenching when he pries you open with his cock. The gasp that leaves your mouth is akin to a sob as he brutally hammers into you, chasing his own high. The overstimulation is too much and you try desperately to wriggle from his hold, but its useless.
Yet, when your eyes catch a glimpse at his expression, his lustful gaze and reddened cheeks, you can't help but let him crack your knees open a little wider.
"Atta girl." He praises with a half smirk, his thrusts becoming short and erratic.
His grip on your knees tightens and he throws his head back, utterly consumed by how your plush walls are squeezing him. When his breath hitches and he grunts out you name, its not long after that you feel a hotness in your core. His cum coats your insides in bursts, the thick, white ropes pooling all around. Everything sounds more wet, more raw, as he continues to shallowly thrust into you, riding out his orgasm.
He finally lets your legs go and they tremble as they settle back down around his hips. When he collapses onto you, his skin is hot against yours. He rasps out some breaths, his back slowly falling and rising. You can feel his heart beating strongly against your chest, the sensation grounding you.
His body atop of yours serves as a sort of anchor, your thighs twitching as his hips continue to gently rock against yours. He takes a few deep breaths, his head turning to the side to catch a glimpse at you. Lazily, his nose nuzzles your temple.
“Fuckin’ marry me, woman.” He grumbles, his tone stern as his eyelids flutter closed. "You're the one I want.”
Of course, you can't say no.
In your post-coital haze, you can't help but wonder what mess is going to come from this, but Zoro has always had a way of calming your ever-racing mind. So instead, you sigh, running a hand through his slightly dampened hair as a corner of your lips quirk up into a half smile. "Can we still have cake?"
He snorts in an attempt to hide his laugh, saying nothing as he flips you onto him and gives your ass a slap.
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lets-try-some-writing · 5 months ago
Note
(For your Mr. Pax AU:)
Imagine the kids meeting Elita. It'd be so fragging wholesome XD
It'd more then likely be after the school day, too. Lmao.
It would and I have opted to answer the call for this ask.
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━
"So kids, how was school?" Elita grinned as the children settled on their platform, spreading out homework and other assignments for the cycle. She regarded their work with interest. It seemed simple enough in her optics, but then again, the human children were very small.
"Oh! You're Elita! Optimus's wife!" Miko shot up, a huge smile on her small squishy face. The urge to reach out and poke one of her cheeks was strong, but Elita refrained. It wouldn't do to go poking the children when it was far safer just to wait until later and do it in holoform.
"I'm his Conjunx, yes." Jack pointedly did not look in her direction. Elita could almost see the way his venting would have sputtered if he were Cybertronian. She may not have been well versed in all things human as of the present moment, but even she could see he looked a moment away from exploding.
"Woah, I didn't know Optimus was married." Rafael added his own commentary, closing his laptop to look up at Elita with wide eyes. She had to fight back an awed noise at how adorable he looked. He was tiny, his glasses only making him look more like a sparkling in her optics. She wanted to poke his cheeks as well, but that would have to wait.
"He's been my Conjunx for a very long time kiddo. Since before he became Prime in fact." Miko and Rafael made awed noises, and even Jack looked up at her in surprise, his embarrassment over the parent-teacher conference forgotten.
"Really? Optimus doesn't seem like the kind of guy to well... do that?" Jack was hesitant in his words, but Elita laughed in short order. She clutched her abdomen as she considered Jack's point of view, all but cackling. Her Conjunx could be quite stern when he wanted to be, especially when stressed. She'd already heard about how Optimus shut down any attempts at being introduced to humor. It was no surprise Jack was startled.
"He wasn't always such a stoic figure. Back when we were young, we got into all sorts of trouble." Resting a servo on her hip as he laughter died down, Elita watched as the children practically lit up at the reveal. Jack was quiet with his interest, but Rafael and Miko were not.
"Optimus in trouble? Oooh this is some blackmail material I need!" Miko did a little dance in place, the plushies on her belt shifting as she did an excited twirl. Elita again had to fight the urge to pick up and cuddle the squishy organic close. It probably wouldn't end well, but she hadn't been able to hold such a small creature since Bee was freshly forged.
"I don't think you can blackmail Prime with stuff that millions of years old." Jack, being so much like Optimus, tried to rain on everyone's parade with logic. Thankfully, his little black raincloud bounced right off Miko and Rafael who were still staring at Elita like she hung the moon.
"Married couples always have wild blackmail!" Miko flailed, throwing her arms up in the air as she grinned. Jack sighed and Rafael secretly adjusted his glasses to try and hide a smile. Elita could feel it right then and there as adoration settled in her spark.
Yes, she was keeping these squishies. She could convince Optimus later.
"I have quite a few stories for you. But only if you promise to not harass Optimus with them. He's got enough going on." Holding up a digit to her derma, Elita smiled as the children each agreed, some more enthusiastically than others.
"We won't bother him. Promise." Rafael's eyes only seemed to be made bigger by his glasses. Elita's spark leapt in its chamber, the cuteness of the scene overriding her usual serious attitude as mischievousness she had long left behind began to resurge.
"Settle down then children. Let me tell you all about Orion's first visit to the docks." Elita could see Optimus out of the corner of her optic looming in the nearby hall. He looked to be mostly uncaring as he waited there, listening in. But she could see the hint of a smile on his features. He wasn't opposed to her decision, giving her all the more reason to tell her tale.
It had been so very long since they'd had anyone who cared enough to hear their story.
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