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moonlight-joy · 16 days ago

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The Realm’s Harmony

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: Through wisdom, compassion, and an unyielding dedication to family, you became the heart of House Targaryen, guiding its members—both children and adults—away from division and toward unity, ensuring Rhaenyra’s reign as Queen and the realm’s enduring peace.

Pairing: Reader/Daemon Targaryen

The fires of ambition often threatened to consume House Targaryen, but under your watchful eye, those flames were tempered. Married to Daemon Targaryen since before Rhaenyra’s birth, you had spent years nurturing bonds within the family and easing tensions that might otherwise have erupted into chaos. Though your union with Daemon had its share of whispers—his reputation and fiery temperament never escaped him—your devotion to the family earned you respect and love. Over time, you became more than just Daemon’s wife; you became the heart of the Targaryen household.

From the moment Queen Aemma placed her infant daughter in your arms, you felt a bond with Rhaenyra that rivaled blood itself. Aemma’s tragic passing only deepened that connection. As a young girl, Rhaenyra sought comfort in you, her "second mother," who could soothe her fears and guide her with gentle wisdom. You braided her silver hair when she was restless, read her tales of Old Valyria, and taught her the strength of her heritage. When whispers questioned her claim as heir, she once asked you, “Am I strong enough to be heir?” Her violet eyes were filled with doubt. “You are a dragon,” you replied, placing a hand on her cheek. “The blood of kings flows in your veins, and dragons bow to no one. Remember that, my sweet girl.”

Even as she grew older and faced the trials of court, Rhaenyra remained fiercely loyal to you. When others doubted her, you stood by her side, defending her right to the Iron Throne with a ferocity that matched Daemon’s own. Yet, Rhaenyra was not the only one to benefit from your guidance. Though Alicent Hightower held her children close, wary of Rhaenyra’s rise, you worked to mend the fissures threatening to tear the family apart. On a quiet night after the King had reaffirmed Rhaenyra’s position as heir, you sought Alicent out in her chambers.

“You fear for your children,” you said gently, sitting beside her. It wasn’t a question. Her gaze faltered, her composure cracking. “They will see them as threats,” she whispered. “As enemies to Rhaenyra’s crown.” “They will see them as family,” you corrected firmly. “Because we will make sure of it.” Your words planted a seed that would grow over the coming months. Though Alicent remained cautious, she came to see you as an ally rather than an opponent. Together, you bridged the gap between her children and Rhaenyra, ensuring that they grew up as siblings, not rivals.

Aegon’s defiance and arrogance were well known, and even as a boy, he tested the patience of everyone around him. Alicent often fretted over his behavior, her strictness clashing with his carefree nature. But you saw through his bravado to the boy beneath—the boy who craved approval but was too proud to ask for it. One afternoon, when Aegon had shirked his lessons again, you found him perched on a windowsill, gazing out at the sprawling city below. “Planning your escape, are you?” you teased gently, leaning against the wall. He glanced at you, his lips curling into a smirk. “If I were, would you stop me?” “No,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “But I’d remind you that running won’t change who you are. You’re a prince, Aegon. That comes with responsibilities, whether you like it or not.” His smirk faded, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes. “What if I don’t want to be a prince?” he muttered. “What if I just want to be… me?” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Then be yourself, but be the best version of yourself. Not for the crown, not for your mother—for you.” From that day on, Aegon began to confide in you, sharing thoughts he wouldn’t dare voice to anyone else. Though his rebellious streak never disappeared, he learned to temper it, finding a balance between his own desires and the duties expected of him. He respected you not because you demanded it, but because you earned it.

Aemond’s struggles were different. Born into a world of dragons without one to call his own, he often felt like an outsider among his siblings. His frustration boiled over when Lucerys taunted him, leading to the infamous fight that cost him his eye. You were the first to sit by his bedside after the maesters had tended to him, refusing to leave until he woke. When his good eye fluttered open and landed on you, you smiled softly. “You’re awake.” Aemond reached for the bandage over his injured eye, wincing. “Does it… look horrible?” You gently took his hand, stopping him from touching the wound. “It looks like strength,” you said firmly. “You are not less because of this, Aemond. You are more. You have endured, and that makes you stronger than any blade or dragon.” Those words stayed with him. As he grew older, Aemond often sought your counsel, especially on matters of strategy and history. He admired your intelligence and the way you commanded respect without raising your voice. Though his ambition burned brightly, your influence ensured it did not consume him. Instead, he became a loyal and formidable ally to Rhaenyra, channeling his determination into protecting the family rather than tearing it apart.

Helaena was unlike her brothers. Quiet and thoughtful, she preferred the company of her insects and her dreams to the noisy chaos of court. While others dismissed her as odd, you recognized the wisdom hidden beneath her gentle demeanor. She often sought you out in the gardens, where she would sit beside you and speak of her dreams. “Do you think dragons dream?” she asked one day, her voice soft as she watched a butterfly land on her hand. “I think dragons see what we cannot,” you replied. “They understand the world in ways we’ve forgotten. Perhaps that’s why they are drawn to you.” Helaena smiled faintly, her gaze distant. “Sometimes, I think I see too much. The things I dream of… they frighten me.” You placed a hand on hers, grounding her. “Dreams can be frightening, but they can also guide us. You are stronger than you think, Helaena. Never doubt that.” Under your care, Helaena blossomed into a beloved figure, not just within the family but among the people of King’s Landing. Her gentleness became a source of comfort in a court often filled with tension, and her bond with you remained unshakable.

When Rhaenyra was crowned Queen, it was not just a victory for her but for the entire family. Aegon stood beside her as a trusted advisor, his cunning turned toward diplomacy. Aemond became her sword, his loyalty fierce and unwavering. Helaena brought peace to the court, her dreams often guiding Rhaenyra’s decisions. Your children stood proudly with their cousins, a testament to the bonds you had nurtured. Years later, as you watched your grandchildren play in the gardens of the Red Keep, you marveled at what had been achieved. The Dance of the Dragons, the war that could have torn the realm apart, had been avoided. The Targaryens were united, their power unmatched, and Rhaenyra’s reign was secure.

Daemon joined you on the bench, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “You’ve done it,” he said, his voice warm with admiration. “We’ve done it,” you corrected, leaning into him. “The blood of the dragon burns brighter because we chose to build, not destroy.” As dragons soared above and laughter filled the air, you knew that peace was the greatest legacy you could leave behind. House Targaryen was whole, its future secure, and the realm at peace under the reign of Queen Rhaenyra.

Please support my work with like and comment

#daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x you #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #hotd daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon x y/n #hotd x you #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #house targaryen #house of the dragon

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frownyalfred · 2 days ago

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Hi. I'm not a canon purist and enjoy some fanon content very much, but I do think people in the fandom should at least familiarize themselves with the canon content and source material. It's easier to break the "rules" so to speak and experiment with canon when you know what that actually is. I've noticed a lot of fans that are only familiar with fanon criticise content that doesn't line up with what they believe to be canon but isn't. The Red Hood for example. I've seen writers who portray him as the violent criminal he is in much of the canon be completely decimated by Jason fans who only know fanon and the retconned version of Red Hood and completely deny canon even exists and refuse to even glance at the comics. Transformative works are important and playing in the sandbox is for everyone but fandom literally cannot exist without canon. Canon is important and people can do whatever they want with it but they should respect it enough to at least look at it.

Hi anon, I'm going to hold your hand as I say this, and I will say it as gently as I can: This is still a form of canon purism.

We can absolutely agree that readers shouldn't berate or abuse writers for how they choose to portray characters in fic, whether that's a more canon-faithful characterization or a popular fanon version. If readers don't like how a character is portrayed, we should encourage them to hit the back button instead.

I want to draw your attention to some of the words you used in your ask above: "should" "respect" "decimated" etc. Those are some strong words to describe how you think people need to behave, in order to exist in fandom. Of course, there is no fandom without canon source material -- I'm not denying that. But with such a wide and varied canon, the DC fandom has examples of the Red Hood you mention above, AND the "retconned" version you also reference. Both are canon, as in actually, officially, canon. WFA is canon, and that Red Hood looks very different from the Red Hood you describe.

Now, I think your issue is that you enjoy a certain version of canon, and you're frustrated that the fandom doesn't also, as trends ebb and flow, enjoy that canon as much as you do. Again, I want to acknowledge that just because a certain version is popular, it doesn't give folks the right to berate authors for writing a different version. But again, I don't think that's what we're really talking about here. From your ask's tone, I think you're suggesting that people should, in order to participate in fandom, read that older canon, that different version, or as you say, "glance at it" before enjoying or writing the fanon version.

Guess what? They actually, really, really, don't have to. It sounds like you have some issues with judging your fellow fandom members who don't read what you do or reference certain canon. But the magic of this fandom is, you can enter it at any point. We're a big pool, and if someone's entry point is the Lego Batman movie and that's it, that's still valid.

Fandom stems from canon, yes, but I almost never hear people talk about movies, or web comics, or other media when they talk about "required reading." It's always a comic. I really wish people would reflect on that before suggesting it as the one true path to being a fan.

The other thing I don't see asks like these reference ever is the reality that sometimes a fandom outstrips its canon material, and that that's an eventuality in some spaces. Fanon interpretations become popular, and people write about those specific characterizations or scenarios. They ebb and flow, like I mentioned, and some are more canon-faithful than others. Some completely reject canon, and again -- it's still fandom. It doesn't make it better or worse than a more canon-faithful fic. It's just different.

I had a couple asks about this topic a few weeks ago, and I'm assuming you haven't read those or you likely wouldn't have sent me this ask. But in them, I discuss how sometimes we need to suck it up and be unhappy that canon-faithful fics aren't as popular in a fandom at a specific time, and stop punishing fellow fans for writing and enjoying those fics. And we really need to stop shitting on them publicly on Tumblr.

Because often, what you're really saying is that you wish more people would write more canon-faithful fics, and stop writing ones about fanon topics you don't enjoy or think are accurate. And to that, I again say, there is nothing you can or should do to change that behavior from others. If you want to read it, write it, enjoy it, etc, do it yourself. Build the comic-faithful community here, write fics and promote challenges, create a discord channel and discuss your "required reading" there.

We are all writing and reading fanfiction at the end of the day. It is a great equalizer in many ways. My silly Lego Batman fic is just as valid as a canon-faithful rewrite of a certain Batman issue. One is not better than the other, or more deserving of respect. You will never get me to admit otherwise on this blog.

tl;dr: people should absolutely not berate authors who choose to write canon-faithful characterizations. however, there are layers of judgement and disdain many DC comics canon-faithful authors/readers have for their fellow fans that I think we need to examine critically in order to coexist respectfully.

#asks #anon #fandom #batman #dc #jason todd #red hood #dc comics #dc fandom

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bikananjarrus · 2 months ago

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the thing is, kanan and hera are So. Young. they’re so young!!!!

i think one of the (kind of unfortunate) side effects of the fandom placing them in these boxes of “mom and dad of the group” is that a lot of people forget they’re really not THAT much older than sabine and ezra (or at least, comparatively, the age gap between sabine & ezra and kanan & hera isn’t as big as the age gap between zeb and the teens).

like kanan and hera are 28 and 24, respectively, in s1 of rebels. putting kanan at only 32 when he dies (again, that’s so young!!). sabine and ezra are 16 (going on 17) and 14 (going on 15) in s1. which means hera is barely 8 years older than sabine. there are plenty of siblings around the world that have that much of an age gap. obviously, those age gaps are going to lend to some differences in thinking, life experience, etc. but given that they’ve all grown up under the thumb of the empire, they have a lot of similar experiences, even with the age gap.

yes, kanan and hers themselves make jokes in canon about being the “parents” of the group (“make mom and dad proud”; saw referring to sabine and ezra as their kids; etc.) and i think it's a fair enough comparison, considering they're the founding members of the ghost crew. but they're not just the "parents"; they're friends with the other ghost crew members!

and, importantly, kanan and hera are also still just young adults! (young adults, as in, not middle-aged adults; not young adults in the way that ezra and sabine are young adults/teens. you know what i mean). they've accomplished a lot, they're competent and smart and mature, but they're young. they still make mistakes and sometimes screw up when talking about their feelings and yes, they teach the younger members of their crew valuable lessons, but they also learn a lot from the teens too. because they're still learning and growing!

anyway, just thinking about how kanan and hera were practically kids when they met, and how they've grown up together (and done a lot of growing as people, together), and how they take these younger teens under their wings and also a middle-aged lasat with no home to go back to, and they all grow and learn from each other.

#i have so much to say on this. but this already is too long.#really i'm just emotional about how young kanan and hera are. and how young kanan is when he dies.#and that it's going to be so easy for sabine and ezra to outlive him because he was only 32 when he died #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #the ghost crew #swr #star wars rebels

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testrella · 1 year ago

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you're my religion priest! s. geto x f!reader pt.1→pt.2

synopsis: y/n moved into a small and tight knit town to take care of her elderly grandmother. what happens when she attends a sermon with her grandmother, and finds herself lusting over someone she cannot have.

fandom: jujutsu kaisen ⌗ priest suguru geto x female reader⌗ modern au content warnings: mild cursing, smut, head (giving), religious themes(?), slight degrading at the end, angst(?) public sex, NSFW.

author's note: over 11k words, u guys have fun

“..in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. amen.”

father geto finishes off the sermon with the routine prayer. he takes the opportunity being on stage to scan the loyal audience. it was the regular, older people he preaches to. the same people who boast about him being so devoted to God at such a young age. how that when they were his age, they were off sinning. he thinks about the constant praises about being a young devoted follower, but it immediately stops when he sees her.

a young lady, who seemed to be around the same age as him, sitting in the very back with an elderly woman. even though she was dressed as modestly as possible, the black floor length dress immersed your body in all the right places.

when did he allow his immoral thoughts come to mind

“oh father! you must meet mrs. johnson’s granddaughter- maybe you can convince her to turn to God.” an elder of the church whispered to the priest. she gently pulled him to the side, off of the stage.

“as you must have heard by now, edith’s grandbaby is out of control. rumor has it that she’s been caught using multiple different contraband, and premarital sex! can you believe edith would allow this to go on for so long?!”

geto mentally sighs, gossiping was always an issue at church. especially since it was located in a very small town, there wasn't much to talk about. when you were new to town, the locals went wild. fabricating very detail of your life, and spouting that nonsense through their teeth.

“with respect dear mary, the scripture speaks strongly against gossip. i’ll talk to the young lady, but please watch yourself. for there is no greater sin than sin.”

she nods while looking down, unable to meet geto’s gaze. too embarrassed to voice her concern furthermore, she mutters “yes father, please forgive me.”

“i am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness, ask the man above. now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll introduce myself to the newest member of our church.” he smiles gracefully before making his way towards mrs. johnson and her ‘scandalous’ granddaughter.

he takes small steps towards you, puffing his chest out as he walks with a sense of pride. sure you were a pretty girl, but he was only interested to guide you through your religious journey.

“father geto, i introduce you to my granddaughter. this is y/n. she’s only 20, and she recently moved into town to take care of me. isn’t she the kindest?”

he loses his train of thought. he's unable to bring himself to utter a single word. you were much more gorgeous up-close. if he were to describe your beauty, he’d be too overwhelmed, and wouldn’t know where to start. maybe he’d start with the way your nose fits your face perfectly. or, how your smile molded perfectly with your faint smile lines.

geto snaps out of his trance, and quickly introduces himself.

“i’m father geto. welcome to this church, i hope your stay has been great so far.” he purred.

you squint your eyes at him. almost as if you already knew the rumors going around. nonetheless, you shake his hand.

“like my grandma said, i’m y/n. i do hope we cross paths alone in the future.”

he blushes from the way you shaked his hand, but also put your other hand on his. solidifying the handshake more than it needed too. not only that, the last comment you made. crossing paths.. alone?

“my confessional booth is always open before my sermon, and at 9 PM on sundays. if that’s what you mean of course.”

you puff your chest out and let out a dramatic sigh. taking in your arms, and letting them rest to your side, you open your mouth to speak. he stares at your lips, refusing to make eye contact.

“the sermon did end, i guess i’ll have to see you later tonight.” you assured him before walking over to your grandmother who made conversation with someone else. he watched you walk away, allowing himself to sneak a peek from behind.

later that day, geto was having lunch. he finds himself unable to focus on his best friend's story, the words going in one ear and out the other. all the plays in his mind is you, and what you could possibly up to.

“satoru, i think i was seduced today after my sermon.” he spilled out, no longer able to contain his thoughts.

“gross! how old was she? 50? 69? HA, get it? 69?”

geto rolls his eyes at the blue eyed ‘man’ who acted immaturely any chance he got. maybe he really should have kept his thoughts to himself. it was better than trying to converse it with an actual man-child.

“goodness satoru, no. she was a few years younger than me. 4 years to be exact. she’s one of the elder’s granddaughter, and the way she spoke to me made me feel like i was sinning. i didn’t even do anything!”

“well..”

his eyebrow quirks as satoru began his sentence.

“did she have big tits?”

geto’s face quickly turned from curiosity to disgust. he abruptly stood up from the table, placing both hands on it for support, and got all up in satoru’s face.

“how could you ever speak so unashamedly about a lady like that?! let alone speak like that in front of a priest!”

“well forgive me father, i didn’t mean to offend you and your girlfriend,” satoru said sarcastically while putting his hands up defensively. “i’ve said worse, and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. she must’ve had big tits for you to go all preacher mode on me.“

as much as geto didn’t want to admit it, satoru was right. there were many time's geto allowed the white haired man to say the most diabolical stuff known to man. even listening when satoru would describe women’s bodies in detail and occasionally his one night stands. why was this any different?

“excuse me, is that you father?”

there is was.

the seductive voice he met only hours ago. both boys slowly turn their heads to the h/c girl standing right in front of them. their eyes met with the beauty talked about earlier. only now you were wearing a shorter version of the dress you wore earlier.

“m-miss. y/n? i’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. what brings you here?”

you only acknowledge one of the two men in front of her, and of course it was geto. your eyes met his, and never shifted away. it was almost like a dance of temptation, daring him to do further than just eye contact. the dark aura coming from you was overwhelming him, or maybe it was just your strong perfume.

“i apologize for the disruption, father geto. my grandma asked me to run some errands. i guess i’ll have to speak with you later tonight.“

before geto could get a word in, you once again walk off. just like before, he once again glances down there.

forgive me Lord, for i have sinned.

“dude what the fuck was that..” the white haired man questioned. he also noticed the thick tension that was stirred by non other than you.

“i d-don’t know. i cannot see her tonight. i’m scared she might tempt me into.. into doing something that’s against the scripture.”

he now finds himself in the confessional booth, anxiously waiting for your arrival. it was currently 9:47 PM, you were late. it did not help his anxiety at all. he’d give you until 10:15 for you to arrive. anything later would have to just be scheduled on another sunday.

he lets out a deep breath before he hears the clattering of heels. geto takes a peak out of his curtain only to be met with a sultry gaze. he quickly closes off his curtain, and subconsciously wipes his sweaty palms on his lap. this was like any other confessional, there was nothing to be conspicuous.

“father geto? are you there?“ you ask in a voice just above a whisper.

geto swallows whatever was in his mouth before speaking.

“of course i am.“

“ahem, forgive me father. i have sinned since i first moved into this town. actually, i sinned today after the sermon.“

he stays silent. he’s tempted to ask what you’ve done, and if it possibly had something to do with him. but you answer his unspoken questions before he can think about it for too long.

“before moving into this lovely town, my grandmother sent me a picture of her priest. goodness, i didn’t know what to do with myself.“

he was determined to stay stoic, and not to speak unless it was to say a prayer. but her hushed voice and the strong tension made it difficult. the air seemed to thicken every time she finished a sentence. geto couldn’t escape your magnetic pull of lust.

“a-and if i may ask, what did you do to deal with your problem?”

“i couldn’t resist myself. after i saw the photo of him, i began to have lewd thoughts. every night leading up to my departure, i’d touch myself thinking about him. then..”

she lets out a small moan, but geto would describe it as a small whine. now he was breathing heavily as his boxers started to tighten up. there was no way he could get hard in the church. it was sinful. but he was here to help you, and allowed you to continue.

“i met him today. after the sermon i started using objects to make myself feel satisfied. but it was nothing compared to his large hands shaking my hand. i can only imagine him using his hands going inside of me instead of holding a bible. even now, i cannot resist his voice..” you confessed as heavy breathing came from your end.

“..come over to my side dear. let me help you.” he whispered.

you waste no time he notes from the sounds coming from the other side. your heels clacked once or twice before you pulled the curtain from his side.

he studies your face very carefully. there was a light red tint spreading across your cheeks, and your ears were bright red. his eyes then wander down to your very revealing shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. the shirt was accompanied by a matching skirt, a very, VERY, short skirt.

you walk into the tight fitting booth. before he can get his hands on you, you kneel down in between his legs. your pretty little head lays on his left thigh.

“forgive me father. how can i ever make you forgive me for my sins?” you lift your head and your hands start to wander on the edge of his pants. “tell me father, there must be a way..”

geto feels a bead of sweat going down his forehead. there were many times that grandparents introduced their grandchildren to him, in hopes they get married. or, when satoru would convince him to agree to a blind date. his answer of rejection was always the same.

‘i am devoted to the man above, i musn’t be distracted.’

where was his reasoning of rejection when he watches you pull both his pants and undergarments off?

you grab his dick and painfully slowly lick the tip of it. leaving any pre-cum on his tip, now in your mouth. a slight moan leaves his mouth. this was a pleasure that he’s never experienced before. devoting all 24 years of his life to God has never brought this much fulfilment.

where was his reasoning of rejection when you put his whole dick in your mouth without any hesitation?

your sudden move of deep throating him caught him off guard. he’s now holding your head in a gentle manner, as gentle as he can be. geto is lost at words, he can only moan uncontrollably while playing with your hair. the only thing he can fixate his eyes on was your beautiful hair getting tangled into his fingers.

where was his reasoning when you made him finish in under five minutes even though it felt like an eternity for him?

you continue to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks for a better suction. your hands wander down to his balls, giving it a small massage. you're not sure what you did right, but it worked. geto was now praising your name instead of the lord’s. he feels an unfamiliar knot unwinding itself.

“y/n.. please i feel..” he lets out a breathy moan instead of finishing his sentence. his eyes shut close to full enjoy the euphoric feeling. why did he want to reject your advances in the first place? he can't seem to remember.

“father..” you cooed while taking off his shirt. of course, the hot pastor with a big dick was also very nicely built.

“oh geto, why do you hide this from me?”

your hands wander his chest then it starts to follow his happy trail. your movement was haltered when he reached out for your chest.

“the same could be said for yourself. show yourself to me, please. i beg.”

his eyes looked like a puppy who had been kicked. there was no sane woman in the world who would say no to his violet eyes. your hand then reaches out for his, and then place his hand on the hem of your shirt.

“take it off for me, father geto.”

being enchanted with your hypnotic gaze, it drew him like a moth to a flame. he lifted your shirt, taking your bra off as well, and stared with admiration. you had an art of seduction that was compared to no other. he watches you sit on his lap as you lift your skirt.

this is sin. he was sinning.

but he didn’t stop you as you sat slowly onto his dick, moaning in joy. he watches you go up and down painfully slow.

“c-can you go a little faster..?“ he moaned into your ear. being too embarrassed by his request, he buries himself on the side of your neck. taking in your scent, leaving small pecks on the spots you sprayed perfume.

“you’re t-too big geto~” you whined into his ear before you attached your lips onto his.

he was an inexperienced kisser. an inexperienced everything actually. it was easy for you to take the lead by biting onto his bottom lip. he opened his mouth to let out a small whine of pain and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue in.

you feel yourself juices slide down your thigh onto geto’s lap as you continue to bounce on his dick. large hands start groping your ass, giving you a smack on one of your cheeks. you yelp in response. it was unexpected from a priest.

“father, use me. be as rough as you want with me.” your hands start undoing his bun, turning his hair into a disheveled mess.

“i-i shouldn't be so mmm- rough on you.”

you felt honored by his insistence on being so gentle. his grip on your waist tells you a different story. it was obvious he wanted to go faster than the pace you set.

“please geto, for me at least.”

oh, how could he ever deny your requests?

his grip on your waist tightens as he lifts you up and rams into you. all pent up sexual frustrations he’s ever had in the past 24 years are being taken out on you. throughout the heavens and earth, you were his only sole purpose in life. the way you took him in so good without any complaints was proof enough.

marks form on his shoulder and back from the scratches you were leaving. it was the only way you could hold yourself up. if not, you’d fall right into his arms while he’d continue to show no mercy on your pussy.

geto was starting to feel what he felt earlier when you were in between his legs. his eyes gaze at yours, and gets a site he’d never unsee. small tears started forming, threatening to leave your eyes. your mouth agape as one hand held onto his shoulder, the other groping yourself.

“father geto, i-i’m ahh, i’m so close~”

on sync, the both of you came at the very same time.

geto found it more ironic than disgust when he saw the scene unfold. priest of six years, never had a temptation once in those six years. his lap was now covered in cum from not only his but the new girl in town. the new girl who easily seduced him

“forgive us lord, for the father and i have sinned.” you purred right into his ear, almost biting it.

he massages your waist before finally putting you on your two feet. you're barely able to stand up without the support of the wall.

"y/n, we can never do this again. never speak to me unless it's about my sermon."

now it was his turn to leave before you could get a word in. he pulls his pants up and swiftly puts his shirt back on.

"you were sent by the devil, and i've failed my lord. stay far away from me you whore."

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picturejasper20 · 5 months ago

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Okay, this is something that i have avoided talking for a while but i feel like i'm going to have to address it because it is getting on my nerves: There is a recent trend i have noticed lately of younger-new people joining the Danny Phantom fandom and just... shitting on the fandom and fanon as a whole, like talking about how much fanon lore sucks and its terrible and yada yada

And it is genuinely starting me to make me feel angry because it feels disrespectful to an extent

The reason of why the Danny Phantom fandom is big and has been going for so long is because of fanon, because the series has many interesting ideas or concepts that were never properly developed in canon or were dropped in the same episode they got introduced. So the fans took those ideas and decided to do something bigger with it, expanding on them.

Around 90% of Danny Phantom fandom comes from this stuff, from how the fandom tries exploring these concepts and do something more with them.

It goes to the point that i had to leave one group of over 50+ people because i noticed how much some of these younger fans were shitting on fanon and the fandom. You know, something that was build by older fans over the course of around 15 years?

And i'm not saying the fandom is perfect because i have problems with it myself- but if you are going to participate in a fandom that mostly works around fanon concepts and fanworks and then constanly insult said fans and fanon... then what are you doing?

Why do you join this fandom for if you are going to go around insulting other fans and people like this?

I want respect other people's opinions but this for me is less about people having different opinions and more coming off as rude and insulting to other fans. This is like if i was invited to a friends' house, started insulting their family members, breaking their furniture and took a shit on the carpet. Not the best analogy but you see where i'm getting at.

It reaches to a point that these fans aren't longer just having a different opinions but it feels like they are disrespecting certain fandom etiquette along with being rude on the way.

And that bothers me.

#danny phantom #phandom #dp fandom #dp fics

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thelingodingo · 8 months ago

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BTS' Speech Styles

Like anybody, the members of BTS have their own speech patterns and language quirks that make their speaking unique to themselves. So I thought it would be interesting to make a post that goes deeper into the details of how each member speaks in Korean!

Jin: He talks in an old-fashioned manner (very exaggerated ahjusshi) and doesn’t use much slang. He also uses a lot of puns consistently, its quite impressive and cringy honestly. His vocabulary isn't as varied and wide as RM but his grammar is pretty spot on. Also very speedy at talking and hard to understand sometimes. On top that, he's great at getting his point across in serious situations without adding unnecessary emotion.

Suga: I think I once heard a fandom myth that he has a lisp (which he very much does not). But he does mumble a lot and stretches his ㅔ's, making it very difficult for even native Korean speakers to understand him properly. On top of that, Suga also speaks incredibly quickly, making it another thing that makes it very hard to understand him (no wonder he's a rapper). Sometimes, he speaks very swaggy. Sometimes, he speaks like an old uncle. Sometimes, he's like RM and gets very eloquent with his wording.

J-Hope: Because of his dialect, he sounds very warm and friendly. He also seems to enjoy using words such as 되게 (really) and 뭔가 (somewhat) veryveryvery often. His tone fluctuates alot and something about the way he pronounces words is very crisp and staccato-like. He can also be very serious and deadass as well.

RM: He speaks very intellectually and educated. Both his vocabulary and sentence structure is very high-level, sometimes choosing difficult and unconventional words. Every now and then he jokes around in the many different dialects he picked up from the rest of the members (he doesn't come from a place that speaks a different dialect like the others). His normal speaking is also very unique sometimes due to the influence he has from the different dialects of the members, over the years he basically created his very own dialect that's a mix of all the different dialects together. This makes his speech so nuanced and special and difficult to fully translate/convey.

Jimin: Has a very friendly and down to earth tone when talking to fans since he speaks informally. His speech pattern is very playful, sweet, and cheeky. During other occasions, he speaks formally to fans and has the most "feminine" sounding speech style. You can tell he selects words very carefully and delicately to be as nice as possible. In Korea, he has a nickname of Park DaJeong, meaning "Tender Park" due to his speech style. Sometimes, he slips into dialect which is when he sounds a bit "rougher".

Taehyung: Is a big fan of using and repeating adverbs such as 약간, 조금, 진짜, etc. In Korea, people call the way he speaks 태태어 (Tae's language) because of how interestingly different and lowkey peculiarly he speaks Korean. It doesn't have much to do with his dialect, he literally just speaks that way. (he can speak amazingly when needed, it's just that he has his own quirks when speaking in casual situations)

Jungkook: He speaks with hints of dialect quite often, making him sound very rough and most "masculine" sounding in Korean out of all the members. I think he has a very clear and smooth tone which makes it easy to listen to him, so if you're learning Korean he might be a good person to do listening practice. He's not as polished in vocabulary/grammar compared to RM and Jimin but he's still great at speaking.

Something I want to mention is that the younger members very commonly use honorifics/polite social conventions/formal speech towards the older members even with their closeness and family-like relationship. This is actually something about BTS that is highly praised among Korean society due to how professional and respectful it makes them seem.

There's probably more to analyze and delve into when it comes to the members' speaking styles and patterns but this post is just a general overview.

Please let me know if theres any inaccuracies or if you want more posts like this!

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lacesoflove · 19 days ago

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okay i have to make a public service announcement because i’ve seen too many posts, especially from my mutuals, talking about being ashamed for writing fics. and i’ve felt this way too before and i just want any writer (specifically those who write smut) to read this and hope it resonates. first things first, the person, in question, hamzah does not gaf. he literally read a fic on the camping vlog, and i’d imagine to find that one specific fic for the video he’d have to go through others that are probably arguably worse.

and hamzah has to be aware of the more “freaky” (can’t think of a better word) members of the community because he ironically does stuff that ig you could consider makes notice of them. like that video he did of himself as a cop using a lana audio - which makes fun of the girls who always fantasise about older men or cops or just like looking at hot men with lana del ray audios and i know there are gonna be people who are like “well he’s laughing at the girls not with them” but imo 😭 if he was truly uncomfortable he wouldn’t be laughing at all…?

also, let’s think about the editing community - the 2 sentence comments on hamzah edits are sometimes 10x more diabolical than an entire smut fic that’s at least 1k words 😭

like honestly, i used to feel icky but then i remembered i enjoy writing, i enjoy writing smut! and smut has historically been a way for women (im speaking to female writers on this) to be an outlet for their sexuality! and, speaking for myself on this, i know i’m a good person who tries their best to respect people’s boundaries, so if hamzah is ever like “idk man i feel weird that y’all keep writing freaky shit about me” i’m going to take it down, and it’s as simple as that, or i’m just going to pivot to writing sfw works only!

like i appreciate that the slushies on here are so considerate about the wellbeing of the person we’re writing about (especially coming from fandoms where the creator can refuse to have anything sexual written about them, and people will go as far as making secret tags to hide smut fics) - but it’s not that serious, at least not in the case where hamzah doesn’t gaf from what we have gathered.

please continue writing guys :) or don’t. if it truly makes you uncomfortable and you’re a person who’s thinking about taking down your fics/not writing anymore/not wanting to post them, i can’t control that, i can only say that it will be a loss to the community

#hamzah #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #slushynoobz #hamzah the fantastic #hamzahthefantasticxreader #slushy noobz #hamzah imagines #hamzahthefanastic x reader

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kiwriteswords · 1 month ago

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My "Unpopular" Aaron Hotchner Opinions*

*My opinions, solely! I am not trying to discredit anyone else's headcanons, thoughts, etc.! These are just my thoughts, which I was encouraged to share despite being really terrified to share some of them because they go against the grain.

Also, some of these are NSFW!

Aaron Hotchner would not date someone who was in their twenties. As much as my twenty-something-year-old self would love that, I don't see him realistically picking a partner with such a significant age gap.

Reasonings:

Hotch is a profoundly introspective and careful man. He would hesitate if he felt the age gap could lead to judgment or imbalance in the relationship. He would also be hyper-aware of the psychology behind older men gravitating toward younger partners.

He would worry about differing life stages (e.g., career ambitions, desire for children), causing long-term complications.

Aaron Hotchner would not date a member of the BAU.

Reasonings:

As the leader of the BAU, Hotch holds himself to high ethical standards. He’d worry about how a romantic relationship with a subordinate could appear, not only to his team but also to higher-ups in the FBI. He would not want to waver the team's or his superior's trust.

Hotch has a need to keep work and personal separate as much as possible; these blurred lines don't seem like something I could see Hotch crossing.

Aaron Hotchner would not be as dominant in the bedroom as one would think. However, he would lean more into this if his partner was into it, but not outwardly for himself, as I often read.

Resonings:

While Hotch is a natural leader, he does not seek power for power's sake--it's always about responsibility and protection. A lot of his natural leadership qualities come as a trauma response, and I believe he might let that down entirely in an intimate setting.

Hotch’s romantic and sexual relationships would likely be an outlet for him to shed his professional stoicism and connect authentically. He wouldn’t want to bring elements of authority or control into that space, as it would conflict with his desire to be vulnerable.

Aaron Hotchner would not want to be called "Daddy" in the bedroom; again, he may lean into this if his partner was for it, but I do not see him outwardly wanting this.

Reasonings:

As a leader, Hotch is very aware of power dynamics and strives to ensure equality and fairness in all relationships. He would probably be uncomfortable with any dynamic that places him in a position of authority or dominance, particularly one that invokes paternal connotations.

The show strongly implies that Hotch’s relationship with his father was strained and possibly abusive. He has mentioned that his father was strict and may have instilled a fear-driven form of respect rather than genuine love. Given this background, it’s unlikely Hotch would want to emulate any dynamic reminiscent of a “father figure” in a non-familial, intimate context. It might even be triggering for him.

Aaron Hotchner would likely not be the fantastic father we all write about if it were not for Haley's death and Jess's support.

Reasonings:

Hotch’s transformation into a great father was largely a result of Haley’s death, forcing him to reprioritize and step into a role he might not have fully embraced otherwise. While he always loved Jack, the tragic loss gave him no choice but to confront his shortcomings and dedicate himself to being there for his son. If Haley had lived, Hotch’s role as a father would likely have remained secondary to his career, with much of the emotional and practical parenting responsibilities falling to Haley.

The Jess of it all also comes down to writing, for the writers to plausibly continue having Hotch be this great leader and agent while also stepping up to the plate as a father. He realistically could not do it both.

On this note, I hate how villainized Haley is in the fandom. Haley wasn’t a villain—she was a woman who made a difficult but necessary decision for her and Jack’s well-being. Her divorce from Hotch doesn’t diminish her love for him or her sacrifices as a partner and mother. It highlights the complexities of relationships and how even two people who care deeply for one another can struggle to make it work under extreme circumstances. Blaming Haley oversimplifies their story and ignores her humanity.

Aaron Hotchner and Beth lacked chemistry, and it felt very OOC for Hotch to be so unaffected by their parting ways; this is more a flaw in the writing versus the character(s) or fandom.

Reasonings:

Beth was introduced abruptly and with minimal background, leaving her character feeling one-dimensional. The audience didn’t have enough time to understand her motivations or personality, making it difficult to invest in her relationship with Hotch. She felt more like a plot device to show Hotch moving forward post-Haley than a fully realized partner for him. This, again, falls on the fact that Bellamy Young had moved onto Scandal, and they were forced to end things with that plot, so who knows where it actually would have ended up.

Their dynamic felt almost too casual, which was jarring considering Hotch’s usual intensity in his relationships, especially after Haley’s death. Also, I think Hotch might be suspect of the idea of someone kind of watching him in the park for so long? But I do feel like the writers had no other way for Hotch to realistically meet someone.

Beth’s role could have been an opportunity to explore how Hotch balances dating with being a single father and leading the BAU. Instead, their relationship was surface-level and didn’t push Hotch toward any real emotional growth. The writers didn’t use Beth to challenge Hotch’s guarded nature or explore how he might rebuild trust and intimacy after Haley’s death. Too much was going on during this season and the following, but they opened the door for this and did nothing.

When Beth and Hotch part ways, Hotch appears surprisingly unaffected, which feels out of character. Given his emotional depth and the weight he places on personal relationships, fans expected more from him—if not heartbreak, at least some introspection or acknowledgment of the loss. This lack of reaction felt less like a natural response for Hotch and more like the writers were rushing to close a subplot they didn’t know how to continue.

I have more, but figured I would ease into this!

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds

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apollosothertwin · 8 months ago

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I have such a strong urge to go out to the toa tags and report all of the posts that aren’t toa. To anyone who sees this and is about to tag their non-trials of Apollo related post as trials of Apollo please don’t. (that includes solangelo things. Just because they started in ToA doesn’t mean that you should tag it with ToA. You have tsats now. Please use it) I get so annoyed when I’m just trying to search for content about Meg or Lester or anything and anyone in the Trials of Apollo series and all that I get is Percy Jackson because, as much as I love him and the rest of the pjo books, sometimes I just want to take a break and cuddle up with some cute sunflower sibs art, or a meta on the heavy abuse systems in the series. Don’t be selfish and tag for reach, please respect our fandom. Also, we’re by far the smallest of the main three series but we’re always welcome to have more members.

If you haven’t read ToA or maybe you stopped after the first book, I would highly recommend giving it another try. Trials is by far the most mature series and I know from personal experience as someone who originally didn’t like the narration and the fact the Percy wasn’t in it, the older you get the more you appreciate it. Also, if you aren’t reading it because you know of a certain death that happens in the third book, just know that he didn’t die for nothing. The scene made me cry, and I wasn’t and still am not really a fan of him.

Overall Trials has a very different feel from the other books, but that is part of the reason I love it some much. This allows us to have a very tight knit group of writers, artists, and just fans who love our blorbo Lesterpollo. If your post is actually about ToA, you are always welcome to tag it; we want to see! But if your post is just about pjo, hoo, tkc, mcgoa, tsats, or any of the other side books, please respect that we would like to have our own tags that can be utilized solely for the purpose of talking about The Trials of Apollo.

Thank you for listening to my Ted talk

#trials of apollo #toa #we have to reclaim the tag!#percy jackson #rick riordan #the trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa #I’m tagging this for reach so other people don’t #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #the kane chronicles #tkc #mcgoa #the sun and the star #tsats #pjo hoo toa tsats #lester papadopoulos

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cdragons · 10 months ago

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Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Jace is delulu, tiny!Aemond is kind of a jerk in this one, Dark Themes, shit is going down, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also, translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also, I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: I'M BACKKKKKK! I am so sorry for leaving this story alone for so long! I have been getting into other fandoms and making new stories because of those fandoms. But the two new trailers for HOTD season 2 brought me back! I swear I will be better at updating this story! But on the bright side, I made this chapter over 5k word length! I own only the plot and OCs of this story, please do not repost without my permission.

Despite living in the Red Keep for nearly your entire life, you still felt hopelessly lost as you walked down the corridors beside the prince. Like you and Aemond, the sight of you walking side by side with the heir of the Iron Throne’s firstborn son made for an unusual sight for the courtiers of the Royal Family. But this was not the case with the serving staff, which comprised smallfolk. Your mother was a favored companion by Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. Despite coming from such humble beginnings, Doreah of Essos became a highly regarded member of the serving staff belonging to the House of Targaryen. All the maids respected your mother, while most stewards who served under knights idolized your father. And as your mother’s daughter, they were very used to the vision of one of their humble sewists’ children playing with the Royal children.

As a result, no one so much as batted an eye when they saw you walking down the halls directly beside Prince Jacaerys. It would have made a much more unusual sight if your presence was absent by either his or his uncle’s side. The older staff bowed their heads in respect to the prince while also flashing a small but kind smile at you. The younger serving girls were still too new in the ways of the court and beamed with broad smiles at the sight of you before acknowledging Jace. You grinned back as you inwardly beamed at the knowledge that Head Septa Marlow was with you.

She would have scolded those girls fiercely if she had caught them greeting an apprentice seamstress before the prince.

You turned your head to glance at your childhood friend, who happened to be second in line for the Iron Throne, as you both made your way to his mother’s chambers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the troubled expression on his face. Just a few minutes ago, he was practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you left Aemond alone in the Godswood. But now it felt as if he was a thousand miles away from you despite being so close. Having been by his side since his birth, you always felt a sense of protectiveness toward the young prince. No matter his station, you were a month past your third name-day when he was brought into this world. It was natural that you were perspective to his shifting moods.

“Jace?” you softly called out to him. You were relieved to have brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

Jacaerys stopped in the middle of the stone corridor. Staring at you with those large brown eyes, he looked much older than his actual age. When someone as happy and bright as Jace became somber, it was always a reason to worry. Was Rhaenyra all right? Had he been listening to those awful rumors of his true birth?

“Ashi’,” he began, “what were you and Aemond discussing in the Godswoods’ Heart Tree?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about.

You inwardly grimaced as you realized how foolish you were to worry. With Aemond and Jace, it was always something one did to the other. And almost every time, it was up to you to stop their squabbling by being forced into the middle. You were not as blind as everyone in the castle liked to believe you were. You knew that both boys had an unhealthy attachment to you for whatever reason they conjured in their minds. Reasons that were only encouraged by their mothers.

You were still cross when they interrupted you and your mother’s reunion with your father. The matter was really very stupid. Jace had made fun of Aemond for not having a dragon during their family supper with the King. However, Jace only did so because Aemond and Aegon were snickering to themselves about how fat Princess Rhaenyra had grown due to her third pregnancy.

It didn’t make any difference to you, in all honesty. All you remembered from that time was that your time with your beloved father was forcibly cut short. To make matters worse, the two boys’ outbursts startled your mother, and the stress was so terrible that it nearly caused her to faint.

As a result, you decided not to speak to either boy for nearly two weeks. It had grown to the point where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra practically begged you to forgive their sons—but even a royal command would not budge you. It did not matter how many blueberry tarts or honey cakes they gave for your forgiveness. You made it very clear that you would resolve never to speak to either boy unless they sincerely apologized to your mother for the awful fright they gave her. You finally resumed your friendship with them after your mother asked you herself to forgive them after Aemond gifted her a lovely bouquet of blue and purple hyacinths, and Jace gifted her a basket full of her favorite honey lemon cakes.

“Jace,” you groaned, “you cannot be serious.”

“Ashi’, you’ve been spending so much time with him lately. I feel like I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him as you sped up your pace to reach their destination. You only made it a few meters from where you were earlier before Jacaerys caught up to you and firmly grasped your wrist to keep you in place.

“I’m serious, Ashi’!” he insisted. “Unless it’s for fittings or when the Maester seeks your help teaching us High Valyrian, I rarely ever see you anymore!” His eyes had a wet sheen in the light, and his lip quivered slightly. “I miss you. Luke misses you. And so does Mother and Father!”

If the pitiful sight was enough to fill you with guilt, his next question nearly broke your heart.

“Do you – do you still consider me your friend?”

“Oh, Jace-” you pulled your younger friend into your arms “- of course I do. I’ve been so busy with my duties and my mother’s health. She and Princess Rhaenys have been so concerned over Lady Laena’s pregnancy and are trying to convince Prince Daemon to travel to Driftmark for the baby’s arrival.”

Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, eager to feel your warmth. If the gods were kind, time would stop, and he and you would stay like this forever. But he became sad at the mention of his Aunt Laena. He had heard his father recount hundreds of stories of their time together at Driftmark in their youth. Jace knew his father missed his sister terribly, and he was sure she missed him the same.

You noticed your friend’s change in behavior. You looked at him with concerned eyes, and his heart began to race at your care for him.

“Oh, Jace,” you whispered, “have I upset you somehow? I did not mean to!”

Jace frantically shook his head. “No, Ashi’! I just wondered…do you think I’ll ever meet my Aunt Laena?” he softly asked. “Do you think she’ll like me? Can you tell me more about my cousins?”

You rolled your eyes at his request. He had yet to do so despite your advice for Jace to send a raven or two to his cousins. You hadn’t seen the twins for many years, but the three of you wrote to each other so often that it felt like you would recognize them by how they spoke alone.

“I’m sure she and your cousins will adore you, Jace. Baela is excited about her new sibling. She says she’s close to riding Moondancer! Once she gets big enough, she hopes to ride her with Rhaena!”

Jace wondered how you’d react if you knew he didn’t write to his cousins because he was scared they wouldn’t like him. To be honest, he didn’t really care about them at all. He only cared about the way you smiled at him, and only him, when he asked.

“Mother!”

Still seated at her dark-stained ebony-wood desk, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen scribbled away with her black swan’s feather quill, nearly hidden behind stacks of dusty tomes and piles of scrolls from across the Seven Kingdoms and, despite being heavy with child, remained to be one of the most exquisite beauties across the realm. Hearing her eldest son’s voice, she looked up from her papers and smiled at the two children standing in her chambers' doorway.

“Jace! You made it and brought our little Lady Ashirri with you.”

You looked down at your feet as your cheeks slightly pinkened at the attention brought to you. Princess Rhaenyra was one of your mother’s closest friends and one of the few belonging to the noble houses that approved of your father’s rise in status. But his title was only in name, and so many in the keep look down on him with ill-hidden disdain. And as a result, many in the keep looked down on you with the same contempt and disgust.

The image of Lord Otto Hightower’s cold and judging eyes gazing down at you with arrogance came to mind before you could block it out.

You lifted your skirts and bowed in a deep curtsy in respect for Princess Rhaenyra. “Yes, my princess. Prince Jacaerys told me that you required my assistance with something?”

Princess Rhaenyra warmly smiled and laughed. “Yes. My husband seems at a crossroads in deciding which fabrics best suit his sister. Although, as you can see, he is being unnecessarily picky about it all.”

Her husband, Prince Consort Laenor of House Velaryon, stood beside your mother with his arms spread wide apart. On each arm were textiles of luxurious materials and superb stitching patterns. His close friend and confidant, Ser Qarl Correy, stood close behind him. The crown princess spoke truthfully as the entire room was filled with dozens of fabric bolts, from brilliant orange-marigold Dornish satin to iridescent light-azure Yi Tish silk. Your eyes were filled with excitement and wonder at the magnificent sight. You raced to touch the imported textiles.

“Is this silk truly from Yi Ti?” you softly whispered while carefully stroking the surface with one finger. “It looks almost too pretty to be real. This color would beautifully complement Lady Laena’s complexion and silver curls.”

Your mother and Prince Laenor smiled in agreement. It was softer than anything you’ve ever touched. Yi Tish silk was famous for its textile quality. One bolt was worth double your mother’s monthly wage at the Red Keep. The color alone was mastery at its finest. You knew from personal experience that blue was an incredibly tricky dye to handle. Although it was a primary color, it was rare in nature. You had to devote hours, if not days, to find the correct materials to yield the desired tone and shade properly. But that work is useless if the dye ends up damaging the fabric. Dark blue was one matter – it was still stunning, and many nobles would pay a hefty amount of coin for it. But to own such beauty, you wouldn’t dare imagine the price for a few yards, let alone an entire bolt.

“Fine eye as always, little lady,” Laenor jovially laughed. “Yes, I’m sure at least one of these fabrics will make a suitable dress for my sister before she gifts me another niece or nephew. I’m afraid your mother is very cross with me at the moment. Any delay in choosing the fabric will result in her being unable to finish the dress before the baby is born.”

“Lady Laena will need it to be loose and not so tight around her waist,” you spoke matter-of-factly. “Muña says that most pregnant women have rashes and inflammations after giving birth, so the dress must be made of a fabric that won’t cause irritation. Let’s see…excuse me for a moment?”

You took out the small leather-bound journal Kepa gave you as a gift from one of his many voyages with Lord Corlys that you kept in your dress pocket, along with a small stick of charcoal. You drew out the image as quickly as possible whenever inspiration struck, regardless of the time or place. It was a habit that could lead to horrible misunderstandings, but being scolded and berated mattered little to you if it meant you could train yourself to be half as talented a seamstress as your mother.

After flipping past all your previous ideas, you finally spotted a blank page. Racing to your mother’s side for help, you excitedly shoved the journal in her face.

You thought aloud and drew out the concept simultaneously. “I think it should be blue. Even if Lady Laena married Prince Daemon, she is still a Velaryon by birth! Maybe if we chose a material that looks like water, it would make her feel closer to Driftmark and Lady Rhaenys!”

Doreah beamed from ear to ear as she crouched down and took you in a tight embrace. It filled her with such joy to know her daughter had developed such a tender and compassionate heart. You were a deeply empathetic girl who always considered the needs of others before your own. Her little pearl had a heart of gold that shone through the darkest storms. She planted a loud kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my little pearl,” her eyes twinkled as she cupped your cheeks. “I have just the fabric in mind for it.”

Lady Doreah Pyke pulled out a large bolt of shimmering azure blue silk velvet. The rippled pattern and texture matched the transcendent and melancholy shores that surrounded High Tide. You gasped in delight at the sight of it. It was exactly the color you imagined! You gently caressed the hand-pleated panels, expecting it to feel crinkly and cheap despite its luster. But the fabric sheen and its soft, velvety texture made you want to wrap yourself with it like a warm blanket.

Your mother thoughtfully inspected the fabric. “Yes, this will be perfect. However, I think instead of a dress, it may be better to be used as a cloak. If the result is as beautiful as my little pearl envisions it to be, it would be a shame to be a dress for one lady. If it is a cloak, it can be passed down from mother to daughter.”

“An heirloom cloak…” you murmured in excitement. Your mother was a genius. “It sounds so romantic…the waves should be hand-painted and glass beads strung and stitched into the fabric. Oh, Lady Laena will look like a sea goddess! Would she like it enough to pass it down to Ladies Baela or Rhaena?”

Doreah chuckled at your delight and booped your nose. “She will love it, my darling – especially because you will be helping me make it.”

“A wonderful idea!” exclaimed Laenor. “Who better than our lovely Doreah and her little pearl to complete the task?”

“Really?” you gasped. To work beside your mother on such a prestigious project…was like a dream too good to be true. “Mother, do you…do you truly think I am ready?”

Jace jumped to his friend’s side to hug her. “Ashirri! This is wonderful! You and Lady Pyke will make the most beautiful cloak in the Seven Kingdoms - I know it!”

Rhaenyra and Laenor glanced knowingly at their son’s support for his dearest childhood companion. Everyone in the Red Keep knew of Jacaerys Velaryon's infatuation with Ashirri Pyke. If only the gods had allowed their stations to be so different. It seemed cruel to let two young souls meet and grow beside one another without the hope or possibility of love being borne.

You beamed at Jace with a brilliant smile that shone with so much radiance that looking at you felt nothing less than sin. You took his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in silent thanks and appreciation for his words. In the young prince’s eyes, you were more heavenly than the Maiden herself. He hopes to be seen as strong as the Warrior in yours one day.

“Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros,” you said in your mother’s native tongue, softly stroking your thumb on his skin as a rosy hue bloomed on Jace’s cheeks. “Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī!”

You were about to leave before stopping and tracing back your steps to bow to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Laenor quickly. Your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment from forgetting such basic etiquette.

“My princess, my prince, forgive me for not remembering to thank you for granting me this opportunity and forgetting to leave before you dismissed me. I was too caught up in my excitement. But, I swear that I will not let you down.”

The adults in the room shared amused expressions at your excitement. Ashirri Pyke’s transparent honesty and sweet nature were so refreshing to not only the Targaryen Princess and her prince consort husband but also the entire Royal Family. She was the perfect combination of her parents’ personalities. From Hotho, you adopted your father’s unwavering honesty and sense of justice. From Doreah, you were your mother’s copy in sweetness and purity. You were a highborn noble in all but birth and title.

Rhaenyra waved off your apology and nodded. “No need for apologies, little pearl. Run along. There is work that needs to be done, and your mother and I still have things to discuss between old friends.”

You pouted to hear that your mother would not be joining you. After all, this was a very important job, and you had hoped this would provide an opportunity to learn more of your mother’s secrets in her trade. But who were you to refuse a princess’ orders? You bowed once more before waving goodbye to Jace and everyone in the room before racing to your chambers. The disappointment you felt moments before was washed away by the jittering and buzz of your creativity rushing through your mind.

The waves would have to be hand-painted – that goes without saying. But should you paint silver instead of ivory for the sea foam? And did you have a steady enough hand to replicate each pattern perfectly? You were going to need a template to trace it.

You were going to need dozens if not hundreds, of beads ranging from violet to turquoise to teal. Were there any artisans in Kings Landing that could make such a large quantity? Were there any skilled enough to ensure the glass and crystals would yield such clarity and durability? You may need to ask Kepa if he made any glassmaker friends from Essos or the Free Cities.

Could you dip into your personal collection of sea crystals and pearls? Mother would be cross with you, but it would look so splendid against the fabric!

While racing down the many halls and past the flurry of chambermaids and squires, you came across Aemond. His trademark frown on his freckled face quickly turned to a kind smile.

“Ashirri! Mother wants to–”

But you did not have time to stop and quickly ran past him. You interrupted him with an apology.

“Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie import! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon!”

Aemond owlishly blinked before realizing you had spoken to him in High Valyrian. He took a few moments to mentally translate what you said before calling out your name and asking you to explain.

“Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?”

But when he turned, you were nowhere in sight, and he was left alone in the middle of the stone corridor. His shoulders slumped in deep disappointment at seeing you running away from him. But he supposed that such a slight could be forgiven since you were his loveliest and dearest friend. On the plus side, he was gifted with the sight of how the sunshine rays peering through the windows darted your glossy locks and wrapped you in a warm halo that brought out even more of your natural charm and prettiness.

As soon as you reached your room, you shut the door and grabbed every colored charcoal stick you’ve been gifted since you began learning your letters. Grabbing your big sketchbook, you immediately began jotting down your vision. By the time your mother joined you, your entire floor was covered with pages filled with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, violets, and silver. Doreah was ecstatic of the display of your budding talent and took you in her arms for a tight hug.

The next few weeks were the most thrilling of your young life. You would spend hours on end with your mother, going over and debating which colors would match the tone of the cloak. Your mother found out about your idea to incorporate your pearls in the stitching, and she gave you a lecture that put all her past scoldings to shame. Eventually, you relented. In truth, you were a tad reluctant to part with your pearls. Each pearl was a gift from your beloved kepa for each country he visited. He said it was his way of giving you a tiny part of the world to his little pearl.

Because you were so busy trimming and stitching, you barely had time to read with Aemond under the Heart Tree in the Godswood or watch Jace practice his sword fighting with Ser Harwin Strong. You and your mother could only be removed from the cloak when either Queen Alicent or Princess Rhaenyra ordered your presence. They often expressed their woes at your decreased presence in court. As a result, your mother would take small breaks to share tea with Queen Alicent to discuss your progress as a seamstress, or she would get called by Princess Rhaenyra to her chambers so that they may speak their most private thoughts and troubles in High Valyrian.

You would often escape their orders by spending time with Princess Helaena. She would sneak into your workspace to bring her own embroidery and ask for your guidance with the more intricate patterns. While most of the court found the second princess a bit…odd – you took to her presence like green to pink. The two of you greatly differed in personality, but that made your friendship with her all the more special. You always made sure to treat her with kind words and common courtesy.

The most rude you had been to her was when she showed you a massive spider in her hands, and you loudly shrieked before crawling under your bed as a reflex. It took a few minutes before you could rejoin her. When she asked if you liked to hold Gerald the Spider, you took your father’s thickest riding gloves before you went near the beast.

You only held Gerald in your palms a few moments before you cried and begged Helaena to remove him from your person. But despite the terrors you got from Gerald the Spider that night, it was worth it if Helaena could smile as happily as she had when you agreed. She was so pleased that she didn’t correct you when you called her by the nickname you made for her, ‘Hel.’ In fact, you were almost certain that the nickname made her happier than you holding the spider.

But despite the peace these past few weeks have brought you and your family, such joy was not granted to the rest of your friends. Trouble was brewing in the Red Keep for House Targaryen – a fact you were unaware of until much later. You were returning from the rookery after being notified of receiving a letter from Baela. She was so excited about the arrival of her new sibling. You were reading the letter until you heard soft cries in the library. Searching for the source, you were shocked to find Aemond crying in a secluded section of the Royal Library. Distressed at your friend’s tears, you immediately knelt and hugged him close to you.

Clinging to your arms like you were his anchor, you could only make out the words: ‘pig’ and ‘dread.’ When you voiced your confusion, Aemond explained once more.

“They gave me a pig!” he barked, wiping away the angry tears from his violet eyes. “They said they found a dragon for me, and it was a pig! The ‘Pink Dread’ they called it!”

You lowered his head to the crook of your shoulder. “Aemond, who’s ‘they’?” you softly asked.

“Aegon! Who else?” he exclaimed. Your simple linen frock muffled his yells. “My sister’s bastards were there, too!”

Your blood chilled. He couldn’t mean…Jace wasn’t…

“Aemond, you can’t say such things,” you warned. “It’s considered treason by your father’s laws.”

But Aemond wasn’t listening. “I hate those bastards. They shouldn’t carry the Targaryen name. Their last name should be ‘Waters.’ It’s the name that bastards born in the Crownlands carry. Northern bastards are called ‘Snow,’ ‘Sand’ for Dorne, ‘Flowers’ for the Reach–”

“‘Pyke’ for the Iron Islands,” you snapped and let him go. “Am I a bastard, Aemond? Am I what you hate? Do you hate my father?”

Aemond was shocked at your venomous tone. When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to make amends.

He shook his head. “My pearl…no, no, no,” he said. “You aren’t a bastard. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about–”

You clenched your fists and stood on your feet. “I know who you were talking about! That does not make it right!”

Aemond was getting angry. Why weren’t you taking his side? Had his whore of a sister already poisoned you against him? Had Jace already dirtied you with his filthy, bastard blood? He stood up and stared you down with fury in those beautiful violet eyes that you once so adored. But all you saw was his grandfather.

“Your father is a bastard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “He was a bastard from the Iron Islands that Lord Greyjoy didn’t want! He wasn’t worthy of his noble father’s house name, so he is named ‘Pyke’!”

You shook your head. “There is more to family than names and blood. I am neither a Targaryen nor a Velaryon. I do not carry a speck of your noble house’s blood, but I consider you and Jace my dearest friends! To me, you are my brothers! You and him are my family because I love you, not because of blood! Does that count for anything?”

“I never thought of you as a sister,” he spat out. “Not once did I consider you family.”

Devastation overwhelms your broken heart as tears flood your and Aemond’s eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand, but you step back. Once more, he tries to keep you closer to him, but you turn around and run to the door. When you reach it, he calls out your name and begs you to let him explain. Once more, you turn to face him to see he has not moved an inch. You feel so small and insignificant underneath the massive stone framework, but you summoned the sea of hurt and rage crashing inside your heart.

“I used to wonder how a horrible and mean-spirited man like Otto Hightower could be the grandsire of such a sweet boy,” your voice trembled, but you continued to steel yourself. “I thought…you were smart enough not to listen to such horrible things. I thought you were my friend. But I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong. What your brother, Jace, and Luke had done to you was cruel and unfair. But Aemond…what you had become…I-I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

With that being the final word, you raced to your mother’s chambers. You cried into her skirts and told her what happened – of the Pink Dread, Aemond’s cruel transformation, and the ruin of your friendship with him. You sobbed out your wish to leave the Red Keep and never return.

Doreah Pyke immediately thought of what Princess Rhaenyra had informed her in the afternoon. ‘Nyra told her that she would be moving her family to Dragonstone. Each day since her failed attempt to match Jace with Helaena, the Red Keep feels less safe and more hostile to her and her children. Since Harwin assaulted Ser Cole, tensions between the princess and the queen have reached an all-time high.

“Come with me,” her princess begged Doreah. “Come with my family to Dragonstone.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra,” whispered Doreah, “I don’t know. Dragonstone is so far from King’s Landing. And Ali would never–”

“Alicent is becoming more like her father each day,” Rhaenyra interjected. “She wants to put her son on my father’s throne – both she and her father are conspiring against me.”

Rhaenyra clasped Doreah’s hands in her own. “I know you want to believe she is the same girl from our youth. But Otto Hightower has sunk his poisoned claws in her and will stop at nothing to crown Aegon when my father passes. I need people I can trust by my side. People like you, my sweet Dory, and your husband.”

“…But Ashirri, my pearl,” sighed Doreah. “She will be so devastated. She grew up running in these halls, playing in the Godswoods, exploring this castle’s corners and shadows. This is her home.”

“Your daughter will flourish wherever she goes,” insists Rhaenyra. “She will never be alone – not with Jace, Luke, and Joffery by her side. And forgive me for what I am about to say, my friend, but…King’s Landing no longer agrees with you as it used to.”

Doreah sighed and gazed out the window with slumped shoulders. What her princess said was true but hard to hear. As she grew older, she found the air and noise outside the Red Keep more sour and rancid. It made her miss the clean and fresh sea breeze in Essos. Rhaenyra was not the only one who had noticed Doreah’s melancholy. Hotho, her beloved Iron Knight, has remained in King’s Landing after learning of her despondence. Her husband implores her to care more for her health – if not for herself, but their daughter.

Doreah waved off their concerns, but perhaps…they had a point. Stroking your hair to calm you down, your mother asked if you would be open to the possibility of moving to Dragonstone. She reassured you that she and your father would be there with you and that you would still be around Jace, Luke, and Joffery if you ever felt lonely.

You agreed before she finished and immediately started packing. By the end of the month, you had not spoken another word to Aemond and left with Princess Rhaenyra and her family to Dragonstone. You did not look back. You wanted to leave King’s Landing and Aemond as soon as possible. You wanted to leave this wretched castle and have peace once more.

While others stared at the obsidian castle with trepidation, you felt hope. Unpacking your things from your trunk and knapsack, you were determined to leave behind all the political headaches and focus solely on stitching with your mother and sailing with your father.

If only life could be that simple.

Translations:

Muña - mother

Kepa - father

Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros…Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī – “Thank you, dear friend…Mother, we must get to work at once! I will bet going first!”

Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie importance! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon! – “I am sorry, Aemond. But my mother and Prince Laenor gave me something of great importance! I have to get to work right away!”

Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” – “Wait! What do you mean?”

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove, @bogbutteronmycroissant, @lady-ashfade , @axelsagewrites

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#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd au #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x oc #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x oc #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #reader insert #a song of ice and fire #team black #team green

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joansjusticiar · 9 months ago

Text

I’ve been a dog | Lin Beifong x f!reader

Images do not belong to me.

Summary: Young!Lin

You and your former girlfriend (Lin) separated years ago due to her unresolved feelings for Tenzin. Ten years later your presence is requested at a Gala held in her honour. What will happen when you see one another after a decade of separation.

Word count: 1,531

A/N: dipping my toes (back) into the avatar fandom with this.

The gala was in full swing, Republic City’s elite all gathered in their respective ceremonial garbs to celebrate Lin Beifong’s rise to chief of police. Your presence was necessary, alongside the other council members, but you would much rather be at home than spending your evening speaking to the serpent tongued bourgeoise. Wolves seeking out any slither of power they could grasp onto with their dirty paws.

No, you weren’t fond of these events at all. Yet this one was different. This one was held in Lin’s honour and you would do anything to see her, if only for a moment. After your break up, you hadn’t seen nor spoken to Lin in person. It was too difficult; too fresh even after all of these years.

You were still bitter about it, to be very honest. She had stated that she still had feelings for Tenzin despite being with you. Despite him leaving her for another woman. Despite you giving her everything in hopes that she would be happy, happy with you. But everything wasn’t enough.

And here you were, 10 years later, still in love with the woman that had taken your heart and shattered it without second thought. Not that you had tried to reach out to her either. Would she have answered if you had written?

Kya’s swift movements as she weaved through the sea of bodies caught your attention. Excusing yourself from the dull conversation you found yourself in, you set off to follow her. Lin’s eyes seemed to follow you wherever you went, glaring down at you from the multiple tapestries that hung from the ceiling rafters. It was unsettling to say the least, yet you pushed onwards.

“Kya!” You exclaimed as you got closer, loud enough for her to hear but quiet enough to still be a respectable volume.

“Hey! I wasn’t sure if you would show up.”

She turned to you and embraced you in a long overdue hug. You hadn’t been able to spend much time together recently, with your council duties ramping up and Kya’s chaotic work load as a healer. Apparently, in the time that you hadn’t spoken, Kya’s girlfriend- now ex- cheated on her with another woman.

Somehow Kya venting about her ex turned into your being pulled into an elaborate scheme to make said woman jealous. Kya wanted to show her that she was desirable and she could do just fine without her. You figured it couldn’t hurt to comply with Kya’s wishes for the night.

That’s how you found yourself discussing city matters over dinner with Kya seated on your right, playing the part of lovesick girlfriend for all to see. You couldn’t fault her plan as you could see it working, if her ex’s explosive reaction and swift exit were anything to go by.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was the seat to your left to be pulled out and a gravelly voice to ask if it was taken.

“Chief Beifong!” You gasped, surprised at her sudden presence as you hadn’t seen her all night. “Of course not. Congratulations on your promotion. Unfortunately, I haven’t had the pleasure of conversing with you yet.”

“Thank you, councillor.” To anybody else she would’ve come off as disinterested, but you knew Lin well enough to know that she was pleased with your acknowledgment of her hard work.

You took your time to admire her as she sat beside you. She spoke with confidence and pride whilst addressing the other members of the table, a subdued excitement glinting in her eyes when recounting her favourite tales from her earlier working years. It was bittersweet seeing Lin again; seeing her older and wiser, recounting everything you had missed.

You were glad she had achieved everything she wanted.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Lin swirled the burnt umber liquid around her glass, ice cubes clinking against the side, threatening to spill over the edge. She watched you from afar. Jaw clenched as Kya flung herself all over you like a common whore. She shouldn’t care. She wasn’t allowed to care. You weren’t hers anymore, she made sure of it by letting you walk away all of those years ago.

She was yours though. She dreamt of you every night; of what could have been. Did you dream of her?

“She isn’t going to know how you feel unless you say something.”

Lin jumped, turning to look at who dared interrupt her brooding. “Tenzin… and Pema, how lovely to see you too.” She drawled with narrowed eyes.

“All I’m saying is, you should take your shot before someone else does. We all know you two are hopelessly in love with each other. Even after all of these years.” Tenzin spoke in a soft voice, not wanting to spook Lin in hopes that she would act on her feelings.

“Someone like your sister.” She grumbled.

“Just think about it okay?”

“Mhm.”

Without meaning to, Lin found herself walking to your table and asking you if she could sit next to you. She begged to the spirits for the strength to converse with you. If only for a moment.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“So, councillor. Whatever happened to your admirer?” One of your coworkers asked.

“Oh god,” you groaned. “He wouldn’t leave me alone until I finally had to tell him I was married. Apparently, men only respect other ‘men’.” Your eyes flicked to Lin then but her gaze was fixed on her soup.

“Wait, you’re married?” They asked.

“Something like that, yes.” You nudged Kya in hopes that she would play along with your lie. It would reflect terribly on you as a council woman if you were caught out in it.

Thankfully she played along, just as you had with her earlier. Lin pushed back from the table abruptly. Her eyes avoided yours despite you asking her what was wrong. In fact, she ignored you completely as she said her goodbyes to the people around you.

Unhappy with the way she stormed off, you set off to follow her.

“Lin!” You called, desperate for her to turn and come back to you. She didn’t.

“Lin!” You repeated.

After the third shout you knew she wasn’t going to speak to you on her own accord. No, you would have to corner her like you would a scared wild animal. She had never reacted well to being cornered but you knew it was what you must do.

You caught her just before she left, grabbing hold of her arm to stop her from fleeing. She didn’t turn to face you though. Just stood there, still as a statue, as you grasped her elbow.

“Unhand me.” She demanded. “Please,”

“Lin, talk to me!” You begged. “I haven’t seen you in years. Please, don’t go just yet.”

You felt like a fool begging for scraps on the street corner. Scraps you wouldn’t get.

She pulled her arm away from you. “Don’t you have a wife to be getting back to? I don’t think she’d want you speaking with your ex.” She spat.

“What? Why would you even care about that!”

You were confused to say the least. She was the one who loved another whilst in a relationship with you. She didn’t love you. Why was she acting like she did?

She merely scoffed at you before turning to walk away.

“Lin please! Please don’t walk away.”

“What do you want me to do?!” She exclaimed. “How can you expect me to go in there and act like I’m okay with you marrying another? How can I go back in there and watch you with Kya when I waited for you for over a decade,”

“Lin,” you grabbed her again, gentler this time but she shrugged you off.

“And you didn’t wait for me.” She whispered.

“I’m not married.”

“What?”

“I haven’t been with anybody since we split. No dates, no relationships. Nothing.” You admitted. “I waited for you too.”

“You.. no, I. You never wrote to me.” She choked out.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to. Lin, my heart and soul, all of these years I thought you loved Tenzin.”

“How could I love anyone other than you?” She urged, reaching up to cusp your face between her rough palms. She drew even closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You froze, eyes darting frantically between her lips and eyes, back and forth, waiting to see what she was about to do.

Her lips brushed yours tentatively as she tested the waters. There was no need for her shyness though. You had needed this, much like you needed air to breathe and sustenance to live. Hands tangled into locks of hair, soft sighs puffed out between kiss swollen lips.

Yes. This was everything you needed and more.

You barely had the chance to enjoy it before she was pulling away, just enough so that she could look into your eyes. The whimper you let out at the loss would’ve been embarrassing if not for the look of pure adoration Lin was sending your way.

“How about I treat you to a long overdue dinner?” She rasped, a pink tongue darting out to anxiously lick over her lips.

“I would love nothing more.”

#the legend of korra #lin beifong #chief beifong #lin beifong x reader

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