#she looks closer to her children’s age than her own if there was no war she would have outlived her son and didn’t even get any power

[amyrlinegwene]

Morgase is one of my favorite minor characters in the books. I find her so interesting, both as a subversion of the dead-parent trope, an example of a character finding strength when everything has been taken from them, and also as a case study in how even just a little bit of the one power can greatly affect a person, but also how her relationship with the Tower is complicated as a monarch, a former novice, and mother to a future Aes Sedai who has gone missing. I think she is such an interesting character and emblematic of how Robert Jordan gives so much humanity and depth to minor characters who would be written off or one dimensional in other series.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

False Pretences

19/12: Holly and Hair Pulling - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2k~ | Warnings: hair pulling, fingering, allusions to p in v, ww2 talk and mentions of hitler

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

It was as clear as fog, what her role was here.

Since war had broken out in Europe, listening to whatever dire news filled those who listened with fear and anticipation, all the keywords present to stir up panic in every household, she knew she could not merely stand idly by on the shores of England, and do nothing.

It was either overalls and dirty, grotty factories, or the Women’s Royal Naval Service.

She couldn’t deny herself, one sounded better than the other.

Of course her family had attempted to deter her from leaving England altogether, waving her off from the front step as if she were slinging a gun over her shoulder herself and facing Hitler head on. Her mother sobbed, but she did not miss the gleaming pride in her father’s eyes. Her own brother had already gone off to fight, so he’d be left with no children at home, and yet he did not complain, did not forbid her from going. He knew the honest truth, that she would have found a way anyway, stubborn as she was.

Usually, people like her, or women, more so, were not allowed aboard naval ships. Especially hunt-class destroyers. It was far too dangerous, or rather in their words, unsuitable for female company. God, if her parents knew where she stood right at this moment her mother would surely throw a fit until she was red in the face.

Better for them to not know at all, she reasons, sat at her desk, tapping the end of her pencil against her notepad. It was only temporary, they’d told her, a quick posting to fill an urgent need. But that hardly felt reassuring now, deep in the belly of HMS Keith with the sound of waves pounding against the hull and the faint but ever-present vibration of the engines beneath her feet.

The ship shuddered as it cut through another swell, and she reached out instinctively to steady the pencil rolling across her desk. She could hear the men outside, shouting and belly-laughing, no doubt taking some much needed time off their duties to celebrate what they thought was as close to Christmas cheer as they were likely to get. Who knew if it was even Christmas Day?

Her pencil hovered above paper, listening to the constant hum of static that she had come to know so well. These last few hours were quiet, luckily. She supposed the people of Europe celebrated Christmas too. In fact, she’d wager that most of the enemy were doing the very same thing this crew were doing right now, drinking, laughing and card games. Perhaps they were not so dissimilar after all.

A small knock came at her door, and she considered ignoring it, wondering if she had somehow misheard through her headset. But then it came again, more firm, and she rolled her eyes and stood, straightening her uniform to see who was so insistent on seeing her this late hour.

She raised an eyebrow as a man stood there, tall, leaning confidently against the doorframe as the ship swayed slightly. He was young, perhaps somewhere near her age, if she had to guess. His sandy, blonde hair was pulled from his face, sides shaven and short, as was the style of young men.

“Evening,” he said, his tone so breezy it might have been mistaken for confidence. Overconfidence perhaps. “Thought I’d pop by and spread a bit of cheer.”

She crossed her arms. “Cheer?”

He held up the sprig of green, holly, she realised, though the leaves looked rather battered. He propped it in the middle of the doorway. “You know what they say.”

Her lips twitched, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. “That’s not mistletoe.”

“You’re smarter than I hoped.”

“Smarter than you, evidently.” She raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just checking on our mysterious new arrival,” he said, leaning a little closer as if they were acquainted. “Word travels fast, you know. ‘Unmarked door near the comms room.’ Had to see it for myself.”

She smiled, though she willed herself not to. “And?”

“And here you are. Bit of a shock, I’ll admit. Women on a ship, it’s bad luck, you know.”

She snorted slightly, her cheeks warming in embarrassment at her behaviour. “Didn’t take you to be superstitious. Anyway, shouldn’t you be at your post?”

Tom chuckled, the sound warm and unbothered. “Probably. But this seemed more interesting.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I’m just here to work, same as you.”

“Right. Decoding top-secret messages, I suppose. Life or death stuff, like when Hitler breaks wind or when Goebbels has food poisoning.”

Surprised you know who they even are, she thinks to herself.

She snorted despite herself, quickly masking it with a cough. “Something like that,” she said, turning back toward her desk.

It was her way of dismissing him, but he didn’t take the hint, as men with his confidence rarely did. She busied herself with the papers scattered across her workspace, shuffling them into neat piles that didn’t actually need straightening. She didn’t want to encourage him, but at the same time, she didn’t really want him to go, either.

Behind her, she heard the faint scuff of his boots on the floor. She paused for a moment, a smile rising to her lips when she felt his presence so close behind her. “I do hope you can tell the difference between holly and mistletoe, Mr…?”

“Tom, just Tom,” he answered quietly. “Can’t blame a bloke for wanting a kiss from a pretty girl, can you?”

She turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder, blue eyes almost clear in this low, amber light that felt tighter as time passed. “I suppose it is Christmas, after all, isn’t it?” she smiled.

Tom didn’t wait for a clearer invitation. He stepped closer, his hands brushing her waist as if testing her reaction. When she didn’t pull away, he tilted his head, meeting her halfway. The kiss started soft, tentative, but the heat rose quickly, fuelled by the unspoken urgency of two people who had been too long without touch. Tom cupped her cheek with one hand, the other slipping to her hip.

She turned fully now, her back pressing against the edge of the desk as her hands found their way to his chest. His uniform was coarse beneath her fingers, and she could feel the hard muscle beneath it, the warmth of him seeping through the layers.

She felt the low hum through his chest as he pressed his hips closer, easing her back against the desk, his hand slipping into her hair up the nape of her neck, tightening a fist around her glossy strands as if for leverage to pry her lips open for his access.

She hummed in amusement, prompting him to part with ragged breath, “been around men for too long?”

“Too bloody long,” he confessed, his voice rough as he let out a shaky laugh. 

She smiled, but her eyes looked over as if she were analysing him, her hand sliding from his chest over his belt, her small, soft hand drifting over the evident hardness straining in his uniform trousers.

“I can tell,” she muses quietly.

He let out a shaky exhale, flustered either by her behaviour or slight embarrassment at being so called out for it. But it was clear he wasn't the type of man to like small jokes at his expense, and she let out a breathy whine as his fingers tightened in her hair. Keeping her where she stood, and tilting her face up towards him.

“Are you always like this?” He asked.

“Only to the ones that deserve it.”

He huffed, pulling her up by her hips to set her down on the desk, papers and pencils scattered to the floor under his hasty palm. Her legs parted around his instinctively, letting him step between them, his hands dropping then to her thighs.

His breath was hot on her neck as he placed open-mouthed, nearly desperate kisses there. His hand brushed beneath the hem of her skirt, as if testing the waters, pausing only to pull back to speak.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though his hand didn't move.

“I wouldn't dare.”

Her breath hitched as her hand drifted higher, teasing the gusset of her knickers, sending a sharp, white spark of pleasure up her spine. Her hands gripped his shoulders, shuddering despite herself, he was certainly in no rush.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice laced with both surprise and satisfaction. “God, I’ve barely touched you.”

Her face burned with embarrassment, but instead of chastising him, she tugged him back to her lips. He groaned, his fingers exploring the growing wetness and heat forming between her legs. For a moment there was no more, not even a ship. Just his long, thick fingers against her heat, wanting more.

“Tell me what you want, love,” he murmured against her lips, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric now, skin against skin.

She shuddered, parting her legs wider for ease of access and wrapping them around his hips, “just don't stop.”

The sound his fingers made as he explored through her wetness was nothing short of lewd, her back arched slightly into him, wanting to feel the girth of them inside her, and quick.

“Christ,” he murmured, almost to himself, as two fingers slipped inside her, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her head fell back slightly. “Tom—” she breathed, her voice breaking.

“That’s it,” he muttered, his tone somewhere between curious and wicked as his fingers curled inside her, finding the spot that made her whole body tense and then melt in the same breath.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but he wasn’t having it. His hand moved faster, more confident now, his thumb pressing firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had her hips bucking against him.

“Let them hear you, love,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her jaw as his fingers curled just right inside her. 

Her body trembled, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, a cry spilling from her lips as pleasure surged through her like a tidal wave. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his uniform as her thighs clenched around him, holding him in place as her body shuddered with each wave of her release.

Once it subsided, the feeling of how tight his fist was holding her hair became apparent but not unpleasant. She sighed, the tension leaving her body slowly, easing her into lulling waves of warmth.

He withdrew his hand slowly, his fingers slick and glistening, and stepped back slightly, though the smirk on his face suggested he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the moment.

“Worth the trouble of knocking, I'd say,” he quipped with a wink, infuriatingly wiping the moisture on his fingers against her bare thigh.

She glanced up at him through her lashes, her smile some kind of soft but amused warning. Her hand shot out to his belt, and his eyebrows shot so high to his forehead she was sure he'd seen God for a moment as her hands worked quickly to undo the buckle and then the buttons.

“Christ, love. Didn’t think you’d still have the energy.”

“Maybe next time, bring actual mistletoe,” she said, her voice dry but laced with heat.

“Next time?” he repeated, his grin turning wicked as he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, a full body shudder running through him as she took him into her palm, hard and thick, giving a few languid strokes before sliding her other hand up his neck. 

“Oh, love, you’re going to ruin me.”

General Taglist:

@1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69

@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[avatarkv]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (4)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of violence and death. (wc: 4955 )

Neytiri was up early– too early. 

She ran her hands tiredly over her face, her fingernails barely grazing the creases of her skin. Her eyes felt heavy, but it wasn’t tiredness that forced itself to weigh on her lids– it was the dread that continued to settle in; she could hardly make out the sound of the pot blowing out steam, rising in pitch with the soup threatening to boil over. The lid covering the kitchen pan was shaking fiercely, trying desperately to contain itself.

No, who was she kidding? She had lain awake all night, tossing and turning in her hammock. Not a single wink of sleep had been granted to her. 

Neytiri swore her heart cried every time she took a deep breath, gravelly gasping along her. She couldn’t sleep even if she wanted to– not when tuk-tuk quivered in her embrace the whole night; the slightest movement made her flinch and the softest touch made her cry. It was gut-wrenching, the thought that her own child felt no safety in the arms of their mother.

Not my children, eywa. Not them too. 

War had started long before her mate had come, Neytiri couldn’t blame him– but sometimes, late at night when the only sounds that grace her ears are the thoughts running through her head, she dreams of a life away from the wildfire and bullets; a life where she had fulfilled her mother's desires and took Tsu'tey’s hand instead. Every once in a while, the idea pierces her heart as she finds herself tucked in between Jake’s embrace. It felt wrong to think so, like being unfaithful, but not quite.

Tsu’tey was never someone who crossed her thoughts as a person that had gotten away from her, nor had she ever been attracted to him in a romantic way. It would’ve been an union of convenience; for the clan and the people itself. They would be unhappy– unhappy and awfully miserable. With Jake, it was something else entirely; like marriage had more meaning to it rather than a simple alliance. Sure, it was miserable, but they were happy– she was happy. Neytiri could never resent her mate, not when they’ve come so far already.

However, in terms of her children’s well-being, she couldn’t help but think if Jake was the bane of it all– the root of every bad thing that has happened to them. There were no softer words to lay it out, but they deserved better. Her children deserved none of this war. 

She was crying again– crying for them. She let the beads of tears roll down her cheek as she stared afar with not a single coherent thought behind her eyes. 

It was no surprise that Neteyam was already up with the sun rising. He moved quickly, quietly lowering the fire and lifting the lid of the pot with caution— hissing when its hot liquid splashed onto his skin. With a concerned look on his face, he glanced over at his mother who sat an arm’s length away from the very stove; how could she not have heard the loud cackle of her own cooking? He was sure it would’ve caused a wildfire if not for him. 

He slowly moved closer to Neytiri, gingerly reaching out and nudging her with his fingertips. He was mindful not to startle her already tired state. “Sa’nok– sa’nok?” Neteyam called out to her, “Sa’nok, are you okay?” 

Neytiri stirred just slightly, turning her head to view the worried face of her eldest. Her lips thinned involuntarily, a feeling of relief washing over her; her children were here, safe and sound. Nothing will happen to them– not ever.  As long as she lived, they will never be harmed ever again. No demon would take this away from her.

A wave of panic swept over her as she finally realized that she had been cooking before. She quickly turned back to see a billowing cloud of smoke rising from its surface. Neytiri cursed under her breath as her small attempts at fanning away the fog that had settled upon the area were to no avail, finding herself in a fit of coughing. “Why don’t you get y/n?” She requested, voice strained. “She can help with breakfast.” 

With a heavy sigh, Neteyam could only nod, quickly leaving.

Right, y/n– you. When was it never about you? 

Neteyam grumbled as he dragged his feet towards their thatched hut, kicking at every pebble that came across his path with a grunt. It wasn’t you who had woken up early to assist Neytiri nor was the one who had stopped fire from possibly spreading and yet, your name just had to be the first he’d heard today. 

It was you. Always you. 

Neteyam would be a big fat liar if he said it didn’t affect him. He saw you as a parasite – a damn leech that was draining the life out of everyone around him. He couldn't understand why you had to be so selfish and callous; why you were unable to look past Jake’s reprimands when all he desired was your well-being or how you had driven his own mother to such anguish that it became her own undoing. 

You weren’t a kid anymore. On top of that, you weren’t theirs– so why had you always been on top of their priority? Why had you become a chore? 

But never his, oddly enough. You were too good for him and he hated that. 

(Heavy steps thudded behind Jake as Neteyam trailed, his disappointment palpable. He had been unsuccessful in his mission to persuade his father to let him come along on today’s expedition, always quick to dismiss him. He had gone through all the training, but what was the point if he still wouldn't be able to put it into practice? 

Being olo’eyktan one day will never feel rewarding. 

“It’s too dangerous, Neteyam.” Jake grumbled under his breath, eyes never meeting his as he gathered his arrows. “I need you here. Make sure Lo’ak doesn’t follow– do you copy?” 

Neteyam couldn't help but wince when he remembered the time they had failed to be spotters, but it was just that one time– why couldn’t he let it go? It weighed down heavily on his conscience; the mistake that even still, months later, sent shame prickling on every fiber of his being. 

Jake expected a copy in return– a curt yes-sir but Neteyam was silent. He finally urged himself to look up, only to see both his eldest locked in an intense stare, eyes never wavering nor breaking away from one another.

It clicked almost instantly the moment you walked through the flap of the hunt, clutching on the strap of your woven bag that held your own weapons. The war-paint drawn across your face had been the salt on the already deep cut of his– you were coming. Jake had asked you to come and he wasn’t. 

You were looking down at him, Neteyam was sure of it; judging him, and no doubt thinking of how much he had failed himself. His sense of shame deepened as he saw the derision in your expression, feeling more exposed than ever before. He wanted to disappear right then and there, anything to escape this moment that felt like an eternity. 

But you were there. You always were– and you could see straight through him. 

If only he knew how different your mind worked– how you desperately ached for the same concern Jake had for his son. You wanted him to understand the immense longing to be seen in the same light that he was in, to receive even a fraction of his unwavering affection; wanted Jake to care enough that this could be the last hunt he would have with you, that you could get hurt or worse. 

Jake was worried enough to sit his golden-child down; the one with capabilities greater than those warriors years older than him– the one he would make olo’eyktan someday. 

Not you. Never you. 

Neteyam was the first to turn away, a deep rugged grunt leaving his lips as he nodded once. 

“Lima charlie.” ) 

What really messed with his head was that, despite his obvious resentment, he couldn’t actually bring himself to truly despise you the way he felt he should. Every time Neteyam looks at you, he swears he only sees himself– the same child that only yearns for the recognition of a father. There is a reflection of each other in the two of you that binds you nonetheless. 

He wanted to truly look up to you; he wanted what Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk felt when they were with you– to have someone older, to feel as if the weight on his shoulders wasn’t his alone. Neteyam tried, he really did, but as much as you were there, you also weren’t. 

It wasn’t always like this. Your relationship with him wasn’t built entirely on rivalry– he knows he had something more familial with you before, but whatever it was had blurred along age. As much as he wanted to come closer, you were always two steps ahead of him. To you, he will always be olo’eyktan– but never a brother. 

It was a harsh reality– the same hands that cradled him when he was small couldn’t even look at him the same; like he had grown so ugly that you couldn’t recognize him at all. You didn’t even want to fly your ikran with him, nor did you want to train the same time he did. 

He hated you, but not quite– he could never hate his sister. You were more of a stranger now that lived under the same roof as him and it was better than to perceive you as someone rather horrible– but that was what you were. A horrible, horrible stranger. Someone who saved him once from trouble and handed him years of headache in return.

You were a horrible sister. That’s what you are. 

(“Tsmuke, what do I do?” 

You couldn't believe your eyes as you gazed down at the mess on the floor of the hut. Beads were all over, and what used to be a clay tray laid shattered into several pieces. Neteyam stood still in midst of it all— the culprit of such doing evident. Your brain wracked itself to move, to do something.

“This is sa’nok’s favorite necklace. She told me to come get it for her, but the shelf was too high–” Neteyam spoke in a rush, hands gesturing wildly as he talked. His face crumpled in worry and his brow furrowed with frustration.

"’Teyam, don't move!" you said in a hurry, alarmed at the thought of him taking a step forward. Moving quickly to his side, you gently stopped him from doing so and scooped him up under his armpits. He was heavy in your arms as you stood there with him, but the shards beneath were sharp enough to cut skin. You grunted as you moved him aside. 

"Tsmuke, what are we going to do?" He asked again, his voice running high with worry. 

You tried to think of another solution, assessing the situation once more. You glanced at him and said, "I'm going to tell ma I broke it so she won't be mad at you." You quickly search for something sturdy enough to scoop the pieces off the floor. Maybe you can redo the necklace, but there was no salvaging the tray. 

“But I broke it– she’ll know.” He visibly deflates, not exactly thrilled about not being truthful to Neytiri.

“Only if you tell her.” You said, looking up at him with a slight smile, though your heart was racing. You felt terrible knowing that you were going to disappoint Neytiri, especially since her beloved necklace had snapped– but something about your little brother's worry-stricken expression tugged on your heartstrings. You understood why her scolding was necessary, but it felt wrong to leave him alone to bear the brunt of it. “This will be our little lie, okay?” 

“Lie?” 

You immediately dismiss him, gesturing impatiently for him to exit the hut as quickly as possible. “I’ll tell you about it later, but you have to promise now that whatever mom says, just know that I broke it.” 

He only offered a subtle nod in response, his eyes glossed over as he nervously played with his hands.

“Say it, ‘teyam. She’ll be back any minute now!” 

"You broke it!" Neteyam had shouted and almost as if in response, Neytiri had walked in through the hut's entrance, all but gasping as she took in the sight before her– shards of what once held her jewelry now on the floor. She stumbled slightly as she carried the basket of fruits, before dropping it to the ground and quickly scurrying over towards you.

The scolding you got was harsh, but Neytiri couldn't do much other than wrap her arms around you and sigh. You were just a kid, after all. Mistakes like these are inevitable and all she could do was understand. 

Neteyam was patiently waiting just outside the doorway, swinging his legs back and forth as he listened with a heavy heart. He awfully felt guilty. You sat with him moments later.

“Why did you do that?” He quietly asked.

You looked at him with a confused face, “Do what?” 

"Lie." He says, his accent making the word feel awkward in his mouth. It was unfamiliar to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You only say, casually shrugging as you swung your legs along his. Little Neteyam looked at you with the most confused face; eyebrows furrowing and the creases in between deepening as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened. 

But then you glanced at him again– winked and gave a small giggle. 

And only there did he understand. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you, y/n.” )

Neteyam didn’t even realize he had finally reached home. He stared at the flap of the hut, unable to let himself in, despite living here ever since. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having a moment alone with you– not when the thoughts that ran through his head had been unpretty. 

He knows damn well Eywa could strike him down if she heard herself. 

He sighed, “Y/n? Sa’nok asks for you.” He softly said, waiting for a reply. You had never been a deep sleeper; any little noise would bring you right back to consciousness. Every creak from the floor, every whisper and murmur from outside, even the lightest rustling of leaves would startle you wide awake in an instant. Neteyam knew of that, knew of the many sleepless nights you had. You had the habit of scratching the walls of the hut, carving who-knows-what on its surface. It kept him from being able to get any rest himself. 

When only silence greeted him, he finally urged himself to go inside only to be met with an empty space. 

Your absence now felt different to the other times when you had gone for a stroll through the forest or set out to train before dawn. It was not like that this time, and Neteyam felt it deeply. He frantically rummaged through the hut, searching every nook and cranny for anything that you possessed. Nothing. Neteyam stood at the center of the room, taking in the now cluttered room. 

His fingers nervously reached up to the intercom on his ears. A voice crackled over the device, "Sir, is y/n with you? Over." He took a deep breath as he glanced around once more. 

Almost quickly, Jake answered. “No, she should be back at the hut.”

 Neteyam gulped, “She isn’t– nor any of her things are. What do I do?”

“You– you! You let this happen, Jake!” 

After spending hours on scouring the forest for any trace of you, they had finally concluded that you had chosen to leave of your own accord. This was not something that anyone wanted to believe and yet it seemed like the only option left; none of your things were to be seen back at home, or at least those that were valuable to you— your worn-out saddlebag, the wooden bowl that you had carved yourself, weapons. All of it. Soon, eclipse neared and everyone was tired.

Neytiri was quick on her feet. As soon as Jake had returned from the south, she lunged at him – pushing him forcefully with a look he didn’t want to come home to. He attempted to grasp onto both her forearms, wanting desperately to soothe– but, try as he might, she continually knocked away his hands with increasingly greater force. It was like his very touch had burnt her skin; the same hands that held her children. 

“What did you do? What did you say?” Her panicked voice quivered as she asked in desperation. She felt her breath quicken, body absolutely worn out from everything that had happened. Neytiri’s tear-stained face was like a punch to his already battered heart. He had caused this. Jake had finally pushed you away. 

“One thing I asked of you– and this one thing you couldn’t do!” Each word that left her mouth was accompanied by a strike to his chest, not enough to cause any physical pain but enough to emphasize the anger he knew he had been keeping to herself for years. Neytiri was patient with him– understanding. Jake had pushed the limits of what she was capable of doing for him and this was the very consequence.

Shame. Nothing but shame. 

People were watching– warriors that had accompanied him on the search and lingering eyes of the clan, but he couldn’t care less. Jake allowed her to hit him, he let her push him around; it was better for him if she inflicted the pain instead of harboring it. He’d let the people talk for all he cared. He failed as an olo’eyktan and as a father. 

Let everyone know he failed his eldest.

“I did talk to her, please listen to me.” He begged, his pleadings faint. He desperately tried to reach out and grasp Neytiri's arm, yet his hands seemed unable to find the strength to hold her. His voice quivered as he spoke, fragile and hesitant in its delivery.

“Tell me how exactly!” 

And he couldn’t answer that. Not when he made the crucial mistake of not checking the hut beforehand. Maybe if he did, he would’ve known you had run away– maybe he could’ve gotten to you. The fact that you weren’t able to hear his vulnerability was a different heartbreak he refused to acknowledge. You were never there to begin with. 

When Neytiri saw that Jake had nothing to say in response, she was rendered speechless. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she tried to muffle the cry that threatened to escape her throat. She frantically paced around, harshly tugging on her braids. Jake could only close his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat. He stood there, stunned in silence. 

“My daughter, Jake! My daughter is out there with those– those demons scattered! She could be lost– dead! Do you not understand?” 

Dead. You could be dead. Jake refused to close his eyes, hoping he could keep the thought at bay. But it came back again and again, wriggling its way into his mind like a snake. He let his heavy eyelids shut and instantly, he was presented with a vision of you in the dark - his sweet babygirl, lying there lifeless. It would be his fault. The blood would be on his hands.

"Ma, please," Neteyam had spoken, his voice gentle in a bid to soothe his mother. He tried desperately to soften the blows, carefully pulling her away from Jake. It was Neteyam that calmed Neytiri and all he could do was stand and let it happen– what the hell was he doing? How could he fail so miserably? His eldest had to step in and do his job, his pride and joy. 

His gaze drifted across to where his other children were, huddled together on the corner. They looked bewildered at what they were hearing, unsure of what to make of it all. It seized him, squeezing what’s left of its already limp heart. Tuk was nestled in Kiri’s protective embrace, asking her– trying to understand. She asks of you, where have you gone? 

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning and Jake Sully has done the opposite– ushering you to danger. 

“Have we failed them, Jake? Have I been a horrible mother?” Neytiri asked, her voice now barely above a whisper. She tried to be gentle with pushing Neteyam away, attempting to continue nonetheless. Jake placed a firm hand on his son's tense shoulders, and he gave him a subtle tilt of the head. He could see the battle that was raging inside of his young boy's head, between wanting to do what he felt was right and obeying his father's instructions. “Jake what have we done?”

Your mother needs this, his eyes try to tell him, go. Neteyam reluctantly steps back, deciding it was better to return to the others.

“Look for her again. Send out everyone this instant!” She sobs, pounding her fists against Jake’s chest in a desperate attempt to get her point across. Her neck is strained with veins popping out and bulging eyes filled with desperation, pleading him to understand. Each beat of her fists matched the intensity of her wails, no amount of tears ever seeming to be enough. 

Neytiri takes a heavy inhale once more, “I beg of you, Jake Sully. Find our daughter, bring her back home.” 

His gaze finally met hers and the feeling it brought was more than he could bear. He had to make a decision, another choice that would have to let her down again. “We can’t go looking for her now, Neytiri. We are already short on warriors, you know this.” He gently says, as if it was enough to soften the blow– but his eyes saw how her face slowly fell. He could clearly hear the telltale sound of her broken heart, shattering once more.

“I have to ensure everyone’s safety. Warriors are out scouring perimeters and we can’t risk one hold-up. Our family, Neytiri, I cannot risk our family,” 

“She is our daughter!” 

“And I am still olo’eyktan.” He was heartless. He was sure everyone thought so, but he had to be the one to make decisions. His composure was a mask that hid the fact that inside he was breaking apart; that he was failing– that he already had failed. If he let himself break down now, he might as well gamble everyone he loved. 

Jake’s responsibilities weighed down heavily on his shoulders. Everyone was at stake– Quaritch was on the loose. 

Neytiri told him he had a strong heart the moment they had met, but right now, it was stone-cold– shut off and mean. Not the compassionate man she had once saved. “I’m trying, Neytiri. I’ll get her home.” He tries to assure her, but the breathy shudder that left her lips only made him wince. 

He was finally able to wrap his arms around her mate and when he did, it was tight– as if he was trying desperately to piece her back together. He closed his eyes once more, kissing the top of her head. “I promise. She’ll be back, I promise.”

You were out there. Alive. He had a chance. 

Your mama’s crying for you, sweet child, come home. 

“Mawey, Mawey!” 

You found yourself in an unknown area. How you had gotten there, you could not explain. Your ikran, exhausted from the raging storm, needed some respite and so did you for that matter. After all, it would be cruel to deny her this much needed break even if it were just for a night. You only prayed that it’d be peaceful. 

You searched the space for materials needed for fire, but the rain was ruthless and provided no light. You felt a chill as you curled up beneath the shade of the tree. Hugging your knees to your chest you tried to conserve warmth, shivering slightly as a gust of wind blew past. Nothing around you but darkness - no stars, no moonlight, and not even the bioluminescence around provided much warmth. This was it, you thought.

Should I go home instead? Have they even noticed that I’ve gone?

Why couldn't you just stay? Why couldn't you have simply kept it all down inside rather than running away? You had been content enough to stay silent before, content enough to ignore everything; what had been different now? It was home still— who were you kidding?

Thoughts ran unmercifully inside your head as you sat motionless. 

You are never satisfied. 

I miss my mom. 

They deserve the heartache. 

You should’ve listened instead– now look at where you are.

Why couldn’t they love me?

Maybe I should head back. 

Father will be mad.

You wanted this– needed this. You had to prove yourself. There was no use crying over something small, a night had only passed. 

The snapping of leaves and rustling of bushes pulled you abruptly back to reality, your head quickly turning in its direction. You had been lost in thought before the sound startled you; the somber pool of thoughts still eddying in your mind. But there was something else nestled in that pool now, taking up the space– fear. Genuine and terrible, terrible fear. You might never come home ever again. You will never see them again. 

This was it, you thought, something that had been swirling around in the back of your mind since you’ve left now finally felt certain. You gripped your spear tightly in both hands. 

The cry that ripped through the air was deafening, shaking every part of your being. It felt like each syllable ricocheted around your entire body; coursing through your veins and settling in the cavity of your chest. Even the ground seemed to tremble in response, shaking beneath your feet as you tried to keep composure. There was no mistaking it; it was an 'angtsìk— a particularly angry one, at that. 

The loreyu that once surrounded you shriveled in response; coiling up and retracting to the ground, and then was gone completely, leaving you exposed to the hammerhead. 

You were in a desperate situation. It didn't help either that you were unable to make out your surroundings– you were one on one with an 'angtsìk with nothing but a spear and a lousy handgun (that you don’t even know why you brought in the first place. It was small on the palm of your hand, but it was valuable to Jake– this couldn’t damage any animal even if you tried.)

Lifting your bow and arrow and preparing to shoot would be pointless. The threat could be just a moment away; it could pounce on you in the blink of an eye, leaving you as food for its prey before you even have time to process the danger. 

You stood your ground, constantly shifting on your feet as you carefully backed away. You kept your gaze steadily ahead, refusing to break eye contact with the 'angtsìk– but when it roared again in response to your steps, you couldn't help but express your annoyance with a loud kiss of your teeth and an exasperated groan.

You did something that no one in a million years would ever consider or do– you ran straight towards it. 

You stepped forward with your spear raised, shaking it threateningly in front of the strange creature that had been creeping closer. Your movements were frenzied, a frenetic attempt to scare it off and make it retreat back to where it had come from. You could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage as you readied yourself for whatever would come next. All around you, an eerie silence had descended upon the dank forest that seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation– watching both of you. 

As it was poised to launch a counterattack, the creature suddenly halted; its gaze directed toward something past you with an expression of sheer terror, but your mind was too clouded for you to take any hint of the bigger threat skulking just behind you. You could feel the nervousness bubbling up from your chest, but before you knew it, a confident chuckle had escaped your lips that soon turned into fits of laughter, not believing how that foolish move of yours had made the 'angtsìk retreat.

“Yeah? Yeah! That’s right– you better run!”  You yelled, brandishing the spear in your hands and waving it around in triumph. “Get your punk-ass back to mommy, penis-face!” 

As the 'angtsìk disappeared into the distance, you allowed a sigh of relief to escape your lips. "You're not getting any of this, keep running!" You called out after it mockingly, putting your hands on your hips. In spite of this bravado, your heart was pounding and your knees were weak with fear– you were this close to give Eywa an early visit. 

You slowly turned back, that’s when you finally saw it; the force with which the thicket of bushes violently parted around it, the palulukan emerging from behind. It was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and a chill ran through your body as a wave of fear engulfed you. Every part of you tensed up, and you could feel your soul being wrenched from within.

You looked at it like a poor deer in headlights, grip momentarily loosening around your spear.

 If death knocked tonight, let it be instant.

NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT ?? ???? finally, after a month! (i am gonna be honest, i am this close to loosing interest in avatar.. jesus. i am holding onto crumbs people) this is so long overdue, but i hope it's good enough!

put so many references here, hope ppl can tell! teehee

not thoroughly edited so please feel free to point of any mistakes! thank you so much for being patient with me, until the next chapter loves! smooch <;3

(i removed tags that didn't work anymore :/ again, i am not taking anymore tags! please leave your notif on instead) tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom @starjane312 @mona-aiko @audigay

[aizawaondrugs]

The Perfect World

Batman is hit with a spell and falls into a coma. He's taken to the batcave where Zatanna projects his dream to look for clues to fix the situation.

It's the perfect, idyllic world.

Dick and his friends are on a blanket all over each other, Jason and his own group of friends right next to them doing the same, the two groups intertwining and mixing. Jason says something and Dick clocks him on the head with the cap of his water bottle.

Barbara, Cass and Steph are with the other sirens. Harley looks like she's never met the joker. Ivy's skin is tanned and healthy, her cheeks are flushed. No green in sight.

Tim and his friends are on a bench and some lawn chairs, talking and laughing. Kon and Bernard are all over Tim, teasing him. Tim is blushing and laughing, looking much healthier and happier than the real one.

Duke and his group of friends from the We Are Robin group gang are running around, pelting each other with water balloons, laughing and shouting. Duke slips, stands up with a muddy shirt and immediately rejoins the war.

Damian is with Jon and some of the younger apprentice heroes their age. He's carefree, obviously happy. Smiles and laughs easily, halfway into Jon's lap to show someone else his drawings.

Martha and Thomas are alive, graying, drinking tea with Alfred and Jim Gordon. Bruce talking with an uninjured Harvey Dent and they're in a closer grouping with Talia and Selina in a looser circle of every one of his children's parents and some of the capes in civilian clothes. They're all alive and well. Happy.

There are younger children running around closer to the adults.

There are blurry faces, some more than others, but it's mostly the dead and unfortunately indisposed and the children never born. Some are just faceless friends for his children to laugh and connect with.

Zatanna cuts the connection and the cave is silent.

Bruce doesn't remember his dream after he wakes up.

They never talk about what they saw. Never tell Bruce.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 4

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

Previous chapter Next chapter

Y/N and Bucky learned more about their now shared power together as the months went on.  She was able to teach him what she already knew, and with the help of Winnifred and the other Seer woman who married them, Wanda, they were able to learn how to use their powers more effectively.  They were moved into their own longhouse, where Y/N got into the swing of being a wife.  Since she had lived the privileged life of a princess she was not used to cooking or taking care of a house on her own, but had immense help from her neighbors and Bucky.  She practiced their language and was coming along with it nicely, although she had trouble with some words and phrases.  Bucky also taught her how to use a sword and a bow and arrow, both for fighting and for hunting.  

She killed her first deer within a few months of learning and was able to skin and prepare it all on her own.  Bucky was extremely proud of her for working so hard to become accustomed to this new life.  Y/N was quick to make friends and get along well with the people.  She was a born diplomat, and he caught himself smiling while watching her constantly.  

The next winter was fast approaching.  The village had been able to stock up on meats and other foods for the cold, but the season came raging in without warning.  The snow seemed constant, temperatures dropping to levels unseen in decades, freezing the water and making it hard to travel with hardened snow and ice everywhere.  Bigger animals were becoming more desperate for food as the weeks went on, with wolf prints getting increasingly closer to the village.

Y/N was helping one of her neighbors, Laura Barton, bring in some kindling and wood that they chopped up.  Laura had three children, all of them under the age of 10, rowdy, rambunctious and forgetful.  She and her husband Clint tried their best but were outnumbered.  As they finished near nightfall Y/N turned back to the wooded area where they had been and saw the youngest, Nathaniel, toddling back towards their longhouse holding a big stick.  Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw a large, black wolf less than 50 yards away from Nathaniel, the hairs on its back standing and its teeth bared.

“NO!” Y/N took off towards Nathaniel without a second thought.  Laura looked towards Y/N and started screaming when she saw the wolf.  Clint and Bucky, who weren’t far off, heard the screams and came running towards the commotion.  When Bucky saw what Y/N was doing he roared, trying to catch up and run after her.

The wolf started running towards Nathaniel, a menacing growl ripping through the air as it hunted.  Nathaniel looked back and saw the wolf, then started running towards Y/N.  She reached him first, grabbing him and throwing him backwards into a snowbank.  As she faced the wolf she unsheathed the sword Bucky gave her that she had on her hip at all times.  The wolf sped up, undeterred that the easier prey was gone.  She ran towards the wolf, raising the sword and screaming.  Bucky was running but knew he wasn’t going to make it.  “Y/N!  Don’t!”

The wolf leaped at her, the loud bark and her screaming mixing in a horrific ring as they collided.  Bucky couldn't see what happened as the wolf and Y/N fell to the ground, a flurry of fur, her dress and the snow picking up around them.  He bounded up to them, sword drawn, but slowed when he saw the wolf on top of her lifeless.  Her sword was sticking up through its neck, keeping it lifted.

“Y/N?  My star, please,” Bucky cried as he fell to his knees next to the wolf.  “Please,” he said as he tried to look under the wolf’s body.  There was a long pause, then he heard a sputtering sound, her leg poking out from underneath it and trying to push the body off of her.  “Oh, thank the Gods,” Bucky sighed as he stood up and pulled the wolf’s body up off her sword and pushed it away.  It thudded onto the snow, its blood seeping into the white, as Y/N panted next to it.  She was covered in its blood, spitting it out of her mouth as she struggled to sit up since it crushed her deep into the snow.  “You scared the shit out of me, Y/N,” he pulled her up to her feet then grabbed her shoulders.  He shook her, “What were you thinking?!” he yelled, his eyes overflowing with tears.  “You could have died!  What would I have done without you, Asynja?” 

Y/N stared at him as she tried to regain her breath.  She looked at the wolf, a bewildered look on her face, then wiped the blood away from her mouth and eyes as she looked behind Bucky.  Laura was holding Nathaniel, kneeling in the snow crying as Clint prayed to the sky next to them.  “I…I couldn’t just watch him die,” Y/N breathed, her eyes finding him again.  Bucky shook his head then pulled her into his embrace.  He shook as he pet her hair, hugging her too tight and kissing the top of her head.  

“You crazy woman,” he sighed as he pulled back.  He looked down at the wolf.  “You just survived your first battle.  My little Valkyrie,” he smirked at her.  

Y/N snorted at him.  Bucky pulled the wolf by its leg with his metal hand and wound his flesh arm around her, guiding her back to the village.  By this point a crowd had gathered and seen the aftermath of what had happened.  Laura ran up to Y/N, still holding Nathaniel.  “Thank you, Drottning!” she cried, hugging Y/N with one arm and kissing her forehead.  Y/N checked on Nathaniel, who was crying but overall physically unharmed.  Winnifred came forward from the crowd and raised her hands towards the sky.  

“Our warrior queen!” she shouted, and the people behind her cheered.  Y/N ducked her head, feeling overwhelmed by the attention and still reeling from the near death experience.  “You have done well, my child,” Winnifred walked over to them.  “We will have it skinned and its body used as your adornment.  Then you are ready to receive your first marking.”

“Marking?” Y/N asked.

“Like mine,” Bucky reminded her.  

Y/N nodded, still in a daze.  “Will it hurt?”

“Probably,” Bucky tightened his hold on her.  “But you just survived a wolf, I think you can handle a sharp point.”

Y/N sighed heavily.  “I just need to wash,” she quietly whined so only he could hear.

Bucky gave her a knowing smile and nodded.  He let his mother and a few others take the wolf’s body and led her through the people to their longhouse.  As he prepared some water over the fire to warm up for the bath Y/N was outside using snow to get as much of the blood off as possible.  Her hands shook, both from the cold and from the shock.  She hadn’t even thought through what she was doing when she saw the wolf hunting Nathaniel.  She knew it was dangerous, had maybe a flash of a moment of self-preservation, but her feet had moved faster than her mind.  She walked back into the longhouse once she got most of it off then stripped out of her clothes as Bucky filled the bath with warm water.

He helped her ease into the water and reached for the washing bar.  He helped lather her, cleaning her body and her hair, making sure to help her get any remaining blood off.  The warm water helped her muscles ease and she felt like she could breathe normally again.  As Bucky washed her back she brought her legs up to her chest.  Her body shook with sobs as the events unfolded in her mind, replaying the fear over and over, the feeling of the wolf’s heavy body tackling her, the screams, the growling, but most of all, the feeling of rage that licked through her veins as she had run towards the wolf.  She had scared herself in that moment, not knowing what had come over her.

“My Asynja,” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her back.  “It’s alright.  The first battle is always the hardest to recover from.”

“I wasn’t scared of the wolf,” Y/N whispered.  Bucky moved so he could look at her.  “I was scared of me,” she looked at him.  “The…anger, I felt.  The rage.  It was blinding.  Overpowering.  I didn’t…recognize myself,” she sniffled as her hold tightened around her legs.

“Hm, the berserker,” Bucky nodded.  “You really are learning our ways quickly.”  His metal fingers caressed her arm.  “It’s something I’ve only ever felt a few times.  It is…like a trance.  I didn’t feel like myself for a while,” he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.  “But you used it to save someone and protect your people.  Just for that you’ll be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla, as the Valkyrie, the shield maiden, that you are.”  His eyes became sad again.  “But…I can’t lose you my Drottning,” he said quietly.

Y/N watched him.  They had been married for almost a year now, had shared their bodies with each other frequently, and became good friends.  Love had never crossed Y/N’s mind growing up because as nice as that would be, it was rare when she knew she would be married off to a man she didn’t get to choose for the sake of an advantageous match, or like in this case, a kind of peace treaty.  Love was few and far between for arranged marriages.  But she had been feeling something blooming between them, even from their first meeting when he had recognized her as the one with real power.  It was deeper, encompassing, and after her power had been shared with him, at times it felt like she could feel him in her mind, even when he wasn’t nearby.  

She reached a hand out and cupped his cheek.  He nuzzled her palm, his eyes closing at her touch.  Her power slipped into his mind.  His thoughts were replaying the wolf attacking her, his fear and worry etched into the lines of his face.  What surprised her was the deep despair she felt from him when he thought she was dead, the sound of his cry resounding in her head.  

“Bucky,” she breathed.  Her fingers scratched his beard softly as he met her gaze.  “I love you.”

Bucky froze, his eyes widened and his breathing stopped.  Y/N waited for him to process.  His eyes fluttered shut and he suddenly grabbed her and hauled her out of the tub.  She yelped as he carried her over to their bed.  He sat her on the edge of the bed, dripping all over the furs and blankets, looking at him questioningly.

He kneeled in front of her and lifted up her feet.  He kissed the top of each foot before kissing a line up one leg and then the other.  His hands softly skimmed her skin following his lips as he traveled up her body.  He reached her hands and kissed the tip of each finger, something he did often as a display of affection and respect for her power. By the time he reached her neck she was panting, her hands clenching the wooden frame of the bed.  “To be loved by a goddess,” he whispered against her neck, “is one of the highest honors I could only ever hope to achieve.”

“I’m not a goddess, Bucky,” Y/N said as he kissed her jaw.

“You are, daughter of Freya,” he kissed her cheeks.  “My Drottning,” he kissed her nose, “my Asynja,” he kissed her forehead, “Astrid, my star,” he tipped her head down to kiss the top of her head.  He skimmed his lips back down to the corner of her mouth.  “My love,” he whispered, his eyes looking between hers.  “I love you.”

Y/N rushed forward and kissed him.  He returned it passionately as he pushed her back onto the bed.  He quickly rid himself of his clothes as he crawled on top of her.  As much as they had been together before, none of it seemed to compare to this time.  The love encircling them was making it feel like this was fated from the beginning of time.  Bucky made love to her over and over, holding off his own pleasure until he had her begging for him to fill her. 

For the first time Y/N found herself on top of him, gripping his shoulders as she rolled her hips on him.  “That’s right, my love, take what you need,” Bucky groaned.  

“Buck…” Y/N whined, her pace staggered as he reached even deeper.  He flicked her little spot with his metal thumb, the cool metal against her heated core making her see stars.  “You were made to be inside me…”

“Gods yes,” Bucky held her hips tightly as he thrust upwards into her.  Y/N shuddered.  

“My sun, my moon and stars,” she leaned down and kissed his chest as he kept thrusting into her.  His eyes rolled in his head as the pleasure was rapidly becoming too much.  “You were destined for me, and I for you,” she gasped.  Her fingertips started glowing green as her hands were keeping her upright on his chest.  Bucky’s flesh hand started to glow as well as his thrusts hurried.  “My love, my life…” 

With a few more quick flicks to her spot Y/N was cumming, her body shaking over him as her pussy squeezed him, a low whine passing her lips.  Bucky groaned, his back arching as he finished and filled her.  There was a low rumble from the earth underneath them, the wind whipping what sounded like a cheer through the longhouse.  Y/N felt a strange tingling sensation inside her as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside her and looked down.  A light glow was shining at the bottom of her stomach.  She stiffened as she looked at it.  Bucky followed her eye line and saw it before it vanished, his eyes widening.  They looked back at each other.

”Do you think—“ Bucky started.

”Maybe,” Y/N whispered.

Bucky laughed, his hands squeezing her hips lightly.  He rolled over so she was laying on her back with him still inside her.  He started kissing her all over her face.  “My wife, my love, carrying my baby,” he said breathlessly.

”We don’t know for sure, love,” Y/N giggled as he continued kissing down her jaw and her neck.

”My baby,” Bucky’s metal hand slid down to her stomach, resting where he was deep inside her.  He smiled, his eyes meeting hers.  

Y/N smiled back at him, knowing he was probably right.  “Our child.”

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

One more chapter after this!

@wintrsoldrluvr

[syndrossi]

I love the idea of the twins born earlier with Jon becoming Viserys's heir and betrothed to Rhaenyra - in that situation, I can see Rhaegar being betrothed to Laena, and Rhaegar and Jon vowing that their children will marry each other. But in that case, if Aemma still dies and Viserys still remarries Alicent, and has Aegon, would there be another Dance of the Dragons? Cause a son comes before a nephew/brother, by all the laws - but also a daughter comes before an uncle, and Jaehaerys still named Baelon heir, so maybe the rule is just 'the King can choose his own heir', which makes sense as the King is an absolute monarch. And people would look at Aegon, either a child while Jon is grown, or a drunken whoremonger rapist while Jon is a war hero and the greatest swordsman alive and rides Vermithor and probably has children with Rhaenyra by then, and go - yeah, we're following Jon.

Also, I love the idea of Baelon getting to hold his twin grandsons and take them up on Vhagar! Also, since this is not a reverberate AU, and so Daemon doesn't know their names, what are the best he names Jon Baelon, and Rhaegar Aemon?

Also, what's your timeline for Resonant, and how is it different from both F&B and HOTD?

I don't know if it's strictly true that a daughter comes before the king's brother, at least for the Crown. Daemon was Viserys's heir despite Rhaenyra's existence until Viserys explicitly broke with tradition and named Rhaenyra his heir. Though I expect it was broadly true that daughters come before a lord's brother+nephews. Heck, the Great Council heard all kinds of claims, so clearly, standard male-preference primogeniture wasn't in play.

A few things I could see happen, since Jon and Rhaegar would be around 6 after Baelon's death:

If the boys are thought to be TPTWP by Jaehaerys, he explicitly names Daemon his heir, passing over Viserys, which many lords could see as wise anyway, given Viserys's and Aemma's struggles to have a son, and Viserys's only child is betrothed to the likely future king anyway. The Great Council never occurs.

If the boys' nature is unknown and Viserys is named heir by the Great Council, once he later comes to learn of their prophecy vibes, Viserys himself may very well stop trying to have children and Aemma lives. Daemon is named Viserys's heir.

#2 but Aemma dies later, either of an unplanned pregnancy or illness. Viserys is smart and doesn't want to complicate the inheritance puzzle, so he doesn't remarry.

#3 but Viserys thinks with his other brain and marries Alicent. Assuming the king has absolute power to name his heir, he's not going to change that just because he has sons now. Otto still schemes, but as you said, Jon will be having children much earlier than Aegon with Rhaenyra, and THOSE children will have dragons (as will Rhaegar's and Laena's). Otto's in a tough position, especially with Jon's popularity, and because lol patriarchy, Rhaenyra is also very popular since she's not in line for the throne but is gracious and beautiful and doesn't have the bastardry rumors blackening her rep. You can also bet Rhaegar has been using this time to build alllll the alliances with houses that would have aligned with the Greens originally

On the subject of Resonant's timeline, the TL;DR is that Rhaenyra's partway between HOTD and F&B in age and did have a friendship with Alicent. Since she's older, her sons are born about three years earlier than in F&B canon, putting them closer in age to Aegon and Aemond. I generally use F&B dates, but shifted as needed to account for Rhaenyra's differing age. And Rhea dies a year later than in canon.

Resonant itself takes place in 116AC, and it is currently the 12th day of the 8th moon.

[wickedsrest-rp]

Maxine "Max" Diaz She / her

"Don’t worry! I’ll make it painless… for me."

SPECIES: Vampire OCCUPATION: Writer AGE: 103 Years Old (Looks to be about 37) PLAYED BY: Sunny FC: Aubrey Plaza

BIOGRAPHY:

TW: Infidelity

Coming from Puerto Rico to New York in 1917 after the passing of the Jones-Shaforth Act, Salvador Diaz signed a contract with the military determined to make a better life for himself. But fate had other plans when a young Irish woman, Aggie O’Brien, caught his eye and the two fell deeply in love. Four years later, in 1921, Maxine Isabel Diaz was born to two people who loved her dearly and tried to give her the sun, the moon, and the stars, despite how impoverished they were. But no matter how hard they tried, it had never seemed to be enough for Maxine – a little girl with big dreams, but a personality that contrasted everything Salvador and Aggie believed in.

There was never a dull moment with Maxine, but with a growing pressure of financial insecurity as the state of the country was gradually falling towards a depression was only further exacerbated by bigger problems closer to home. All experiences that were further shaping a little girl who was starting to exhibit odd behaviors such as a lack of eye contact and constantly defying the rules at school set by her teachers. But disciplining her was just as hard considering Maxine knew the right combination of charm and words that her superiors wanted to hear, even after she had been caught bullying other children. And when the pressures of trying to handle their daughter, on top of the now failing economy and the even bigger risk of losing their home, they reluctantly gave into her, allowing Maxine to continue to grow into someone who denied all sense of morals and right and wrong by the time she was an adult.

But her goals of living a big life, something she felt her father never truly found for himself, was what she was determined to do. And at eighteen, despite all the hardships her and her family faced, Max was out of the house and living on her own doing whatever it took to get there. A life of partying and immoral behavior with both men and women had led her down a path of barely getting by, but in her mind she was thriving. Working any job she could get, sleeping on any couch she could find; there was a goal. A rather messy goal, but with a lack of fear and the fates giving her a natural skill of charm and deception, Maxine was inching ever so closer to the tip top – or so she thought.

By the time she had met him, she was nearly at her wits end and the country was deep into battle for the second World War. The pool of friends and acquaintances had dried up, and she was desperate for any kind of connection she could get. With the regret of not being further along in her goal of being someone the world would remember, Maxine dove head first into a relationship with a wealthy politician who knew nothing about her past. Pleasing him in all the right ways and saying what he wanted to hear, she conned him into marrying her, but what she didn’t know was that he was expecting her to produce a family for him, and when she didn’t, things turned ugly. So in order to gain back some of her freedom and still reap the benefits of her husband’s money, she made a deal.

He had gotten what he wanted, two children to carry on his legacy, while she gained the freedom to do whatever she wanted as long as she played the part of loving wife when he needed her too. The children, unfortunately, found more solace in their nanny than their own mother. But Maxine was moving forward once again and by her mid-thirties, she felt fame at her fingertips. The “Doting Mother and Wife” role had proved to be more successful than she had thought as long as it stayed just that…a role. But it didn’t come without its costs and being married to a politician during a turbulent political environment with events like a potential rise in communism had put Maxine in a precarious position, and one that unexpectedly ended in tragedy.

With a targeted attack on her husband, Maxine had been caught in the crossfire. Perhaps a fitting end for such a vile woman, but the deal she had made with her husband had also allowed her the freedom to see other people, including his secretary; a woman entranced by Maxine’s lack of empathy and remorse and just the right undead who had given a parasitic human a second chance at an undead life.

To say that Maxine had promised not to take advantage of her second chance would be a complete and utter lie. The newfound high that vampirism had given her had been the thing she had been searching for all of her life, and she wasn’t going to waste it. Shallower than the grave she should have been thrown in, Max found an insatiable love for killing and the power that it gave her. And she spent decades showing the world just who she was, getting more and more creative with every snatched human. But the arrogance and nearly a century of playing cat and mouse with human lives was bound to have its slip-ups and when it did, Max knew that if she wanted to ride out the high she had been chasing for so many years when she was still alive, she would have to lay low and what better place than in a backwoods nowhere town thriving with rumors of people like herself and other playthings that go bump in the night.

PERSONALITY:

Sadistic · Creative · Manipulative · Parasitic · Charming · Focused · Fearless · Confident · Promiscuous · Aggressive

OTHER INFO:

Max has a Doberman named Norman, after Norman Bates from Psycho. He’s the only thing she truly cares about in this world, besides herself.

She has travelled all over the world for the sights and for the kills. Her favorite place, so far, has been Italy.

Max sees living in Wicked’s Rest as a challenge. It was a random pick on a random map because she needed a place to lay low, but staying under the radar has felt nearly impossible, and she’s struggling.

While Maxine never quite felt emotions the same way as everyone else, she did regularly check in on her parents, especially after marrying into wealth, but it was always done discreetly never wanting to risk what she had worked so hard for.

Like her parents, after her death, Max did keep up with her children from afar, ironically hoping they didn’t follow in her footsteps. She still checks on them regularly, even though they believe she didn’t survive the attack on their father.

Max has a Spotify playlist entitled “Killer Songs”, and she plays it whenever she’s doing just that. Killing. The one that really puts a pep in her step is “I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE” by Måneskin.

Maxine isn’t hurting in the wealth department from being alive over a century, but she does further supplement her income by writing Dark Romance novels under the pen name Mercy Romero. She’s even famous on BookTok.

Max is surprisingly a good cook, but most people don’t find that out until it’s too late.

[darefright]

First DBZ Fanfic

Under the cut. WARNING: it is very adult!

Bulma was always mildly amused when her childhood friend got a little too close to her ever irritable husband. “Can you back up Kakarot?! You are on top of me all the time, you giant puppy!”, she heard him snap. Vegeta’s arm went out with a force that would have sent a human flying, but only pushed Goku away a few inches. 

“Aw Vegeta, don’t be like that. I just like bein’ close to ya.”, Goku said in a pleading tone he exclusively saved for the other Saiyan. Vegeta growled and pushed him away farther. “That, I don’t understand. And your brats are the same! Tell me why do I not only have to suffer my own cub being up my shit, but yours as well?!”, he barked. Goku laughed at that and leaned his head against Vegeta’s shoulder. Vegeta bristled but made no movement to push him away again. 

Although Goku was much larger physically and arguably stronger, he almost always deferred to the smaller Saiyan on most things. Bulma knew that Vegeta was a naturally commanding presence but she never realized until recently how comforting his quiet strength was for her. She wondered if it was the same for Goku and their respective children. Vegeta had told her one night as they lay together shortly after Goku’s second death that Saiyans paired up when they were young to fight together for life as battlemates (after much struggle to translate the term from Saiyago) , helping to raise each other’s cubs when needed, taking care of the others’ mate should they meet a premature end. He told her that Raditz had been chosen for Vegeta by his own father, the king, and after the fall of Vegeta-sei, they only had each other, plus an aging, war torn Nappa who tried to raise them the best way he knew how. 

“After Raditz’ death, I was obsessed with the idea of vengeance. Raditz was many things to me.” Vegeta said slowly, pausing to look at Bulma. “It's okay,” she said, placing a cool hand on his arm, “tell me.” 

“At first he was playmate, then brother and comrade. And then eventually, he was my lover.” Vegeta choked out, a single tear falling down the side of his face onto the sheets. “No not lover, he was my lifemate, like you, Bulma.” This didn’t shock Bulma, who else would the proud Saiyan prince have turned to in the loneliness of the night? Who else could know him from the inside out? “I couldn’t let my grief be seen, how could I, the prince of all Saiyans, have been so entangled with some third class. How could I show a moment of weakness in front of the likes of Zarbon or Dodoria? Or Frieza himself?”

Vegeta trembled and began to sob. Bulma pulled him to her and held him, her own eyes filling with tears. He had carried this for years, never letting anyone know the depth of his motivations or pain. “And to see Kakarot, and to fight him, something broke in me. He had taken everything away from me. And he did it all while judging me with my lifemate’s eyes. Grinning with his smile. I wanted to rip him apart. And now he’s dead and somehow I’ve lost Raditz twice over.” Bulma pulled him closer and let him cry until he finally relaxed in her arms. “I have to do right by his woman and cubs.” he said simply, “they are all I have left of either of them.”

Bulma was brought back to the present by the feel of Goku’s hand on her shoulder. She had been staring out the window for quite some time, during which Vegeta had gone outside and was laying in the grass while Goten and Trunks sparred near him.

“Bulma, what’s up? You okay?”, he asked softly. She turned around and nodded, taking Goku’s giant hand and holding in both of hers. “I’m glad Vegeta has you, really. People think the worst of him, and I understand who he used to be. Of all people, I get it. But you are the one that told me he never had the chance to be anything else. When we gave him the room to grow, he did. And I think he loves deeper and harder than any of us.”

Goku dropped his gaze to his feet. “I think people don’t get him. He can be a jerk, but they judge him like a human. When I’m with him, I feel…complete. Saiyan. I feel like he can fix anything. He makes me feel like I can do anything. And I think the kids feel the same. That’s why they turned to him, when I was dead. I mean, ‘Geta basically raised Goten. Probably why he’s such a little punk.”, he said, chuckling. Bulma hugged him, her tears staining his gi. 

“I know how he acted during the tournament was…for lack of a better word, insane. I think he missed you so much, and he was feeling all these emotions and he just lost it. He went back to being bad because he didn’t feel anything when he was like that. You know Vegeta. He can be sensitive.” she murmured into his shoulder. “Is that what you call it?” he laughed.

Out in the yard, Vegeta watched the clouds lazily move through the sky, listening to the quiet sounds of his wife and Kakarot talking. Even with his spectacular hearing, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He closed his eyes and napped, not surprised when he woke up and found Trunks and Goten nestled up to him, like kittens seeking the closest source of warmth. “Like Saiyan cubs.”, he thought, thinking of his own hazy memories of cuddling up with his parents and his newborn brother. An image of a screaming child flashed through his mind, no doubt one of the many victims of the purges he led. Blood coated her skin and her eye hung out of its socket, weeping a sickly smelling liquid. Vegeta remembered her, because he had bashed her skull in to shut her up.  He sucked in air and tightly squeezed his eyes shut. Vegeta’s heart began to pound and he quickly but as gently as he could muster pushed the two boys off of him, before crawling away dry-heaving. Hi ki spiked and dropped wildly, again and again. He heard Trunks’ and Goten’s cries for help as if he were underwater, and started shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down his face. 

Goku got to him first, dropping to his knees next to Vegeta, who sat staring unseeing past him. “Vegeta, buddy, what’s goin’ on? Come on, talk to me.”, he said, placing a hand on his shoulder, and then his face when there was no response. “‘Geta, come on. Please. Bulma’s here. Can you let her wipe your face, buddy? You got puke on you.” 

Bulma gently wiped his face with a cold cloth, hoping to draw him out of whatever hell he was currently in. She was the only one that had seen these attacks before, and knew Vegeta would be incredibly embarrassed and angry when he pulled out of it. She glanced over at Trunks, who was crying but trying to be brave, wiping his face again and again. Goten had his arm around Trunks’ shoulder, his lip trembling with the effort of not crying himself.

Vegeta still was unresponsive, and Goku pulled him close, holding him against his chest, gently rocking from side to side, like when Gohan was small. He gave a panicked look to Bulma before saying, “Bulma, what is this? What's wrong with him?” She ran a hand through her hair. “Sometimes he gets these…attacks. The closest thing I could call it would be PTSD, but he’s not human so I don’t know if that even applies. He’s gonna come out of it, we just have to wait.” she said, glancing again at the kids. “This is the first time those two have seen one. Well, that they’ll remember. And now you. He’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Vegeta gets pissed if a gnat farts! How long has he been having these? Are they usually like this?” Goku said, looking down at Vegeta and rubbing his cheek with his thumb. “Since you died. And no, usually he comes out of it by now. He’s only had a couple that were this bad. The first one, he fell out of the sky and went through the roof of the kitchen, which he then proceeded to destroy in a fury before collapsing into tears. Mom was actually pretty cool about it, since she wanted to remodel the kitchen anyway,” Bulma giggled uncomfortably, “The second one, he was giving Trunks and Goten a bath, and just kind of…busted into tears and slumped to the floor. I walked in and Trunks had crawled out of the tub and was shaking his shoulder, just crying and saying “Dada hurt!” over and over.”

Goku frowned and looked over his shoulder at the boys, “Goten, take Trunks back to the house, he’s gonna stay with us tonight.” Goten nodded and grabbed Trunks hand to fly off, but Trunks pulled out of his grasp and said, “Mom, is Daddy gonna be okay?” Bulma’s composure faltered for a moment. Trunks only called Vegeta daddy when he was scared. She tried her best to put on a confident smile and said,“Of course, baby. Daddy just isn’t feeling good right now. He just needs to rest.” Trunks sniffed and nodded. Bulma watched as he and Goten took off into the evening sky, their energy trails visible even to her. 

“Help me bring him inside, Goku, we need to get him into bed if he’s taking this long to come out of this.” she said, standing up and brushing the grass off her knees. Goku stood up, holding Vegeta in his arms. “He looks so small, so hurt”, Bulma thought, turning to go inside before Goku could see her tears fall. He followed and within a few minutes of walking through the Capsule Corporation’s winding residential hallways, they made it to the couple’s bedroom. Goku laid Vegeta gently onto the bed, while Bulma went into the bathroom to wet a new towel for his head. He had never been in their bedroom and took the opportunity to look around.

A few pictures hung on the wall over the bed, only two including Vegeta. One was a family photo where it looked like Vegeta had been roughly pulled into the photo at the last minute. His scowl was dangerous. The other was a candid photo of Vegeta holding Trunks, kissing the infant’s pudgy little hand and smiling the most breathtaking smile Goku had ever seen. On Bulma’s nightstand were various pieces of scrap and God knows what else, most likely just another project of hers. The Dragon Radar stood proudly on its stand amid the mess. On Vegeta’s were a stack of non-fiction books with a notepad next to it. He picked up the notebook and opened it, raising his eyebrows with surprise at the detailed notes on various different subjects, with wry comments and rather cute doodles written in the margins. Biology, anatomy, fauna and flora. Goku had always known Vegeta was smart, but for some reason he never thought about him having any interests outside of fighting. He flipped the pages till he was close to the back and saw a small unflattering drawing of what could only be himself. The word “dumbass” was written under it with a strike- out through it and under that “Kakarot”.

“I asked if he could draw you from memory a few years after you died, and that's the best he could do.”, Bulma said, a small laugh escaping her. “He missed you, and so did I.”, she added, placing the towel on Vegeta’s forehead. Goku closed the notebook and set it back down onto the nightstand. Bulma kicked off her shoes and laid down next to Vegeta, stroking his face. “He’s so cold for some reason. That’s odd, you Saiyans run so hot.”

Goku chewed his lip, debating on whether he should go or stay. “Bulma, would it be weird if I laid down too? I can heat him up better.” She looked at him, thinking what Chi-Chi would say if she knew. If she would survive an encounter with Chi-Chi. “Well its not like we’re fucking, he’s literally just laying down!”. As if reading her mind, Goku rubbed his neck and said, “Um, oh this is awkward. Okay, you don’t have to worry about Chi-Chi. For one, she would understand. For two, we kind of have an agreement.” Bulma raised her eyebrows quizzically at that but motioned for him to lay down.

Goku pulled off his shirt, leaving him bare chested, and sat down on the bed to untie his shoes. As he did so he said, “I was gone for seven years. Chi-Chi was lonely and I couldn’t blame her for that. When I came back she had been seeing a nice guy who came to tutor Gohan occasionally. Just casually, just sex stuff. I didn’t mind if she kept at it with him as long as I was getting some too. So she doesn’t mind if I do the same.” 

With that revelation, he laid down and pulled Vegeta and Bulma close to him, feeling a sense of contentment and holding his best friends in his arms. Bulma didn’t fight him, but snuggled against his warmth and closed her eyes. Eventually the trio slept.

Vegeta woke with a start, a headache pounding behind his eyes and sweat pouring down his back. He was looking at Bulma next to him on his right, so who was on his left? Vegeta slowly turned to his left to come face to face with Kakarot, open mouthed and snoring. He scowled and rolled his eyes but didn’t wake either or try to pull away. He thought back to earlier in the afternoon and remembered his “episode”, groaning internally. His face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m never going to live this down, I can’t believe they all saw that, what is wrong with me?!” , he thought. Bulma’s eyes fluttered open and he felt her kiss his shoulder and move to press her body up against his back. “Hey baby.” she whispered and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Hey”, he whispered back as he turned to face his wife. They looked at each other in the dark and silence for a while, until she felt Vegeta’s shoulders shake with sobs. She pulled his head down onto her chest and let him cry. Bulma saw Goku’s eyes open and the indecision play across his sleepy face. Should he go, or stay? Should he comfort him too or stay away? Finally he decided. His hand hovered for a moment over Vegeta and he looked at Bulma for approval, chewing his lip. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and placed his hand flat on Vegeta’s upper back.

Vegeta stiffened. Was that Kakarot’s hand on his back? Before he could react further, Goku started running his hand lazily up and down Vegeta’s back, which felt cool in the night air and soothed his nerves a little. Bulma ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. He moaned softly. Bulma and Goku exchanged a look that could only be described as scheming and Goku moved closer, pressing his chest flat against Vegeta’s back. “Kakarot, what type of game are you playing?”, the Saiyan prince said low and quiet. 

Goku froze and looked over at Bulma. She pulled Vegeta closer, tactically pressing her breasts up against his face. “What type of game do you want it to be, Vegeta? You’re in control, our prince.” she said, letting out a soft moan as she felt him kiss her chest. She felt the rumble of a growl deep in his chest at that. She pulled him up to kiss him and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Goku raised his eyebrows in surprise but made no effort to leave. As Vegeta and Bulma’s kisses became more and more passionate and their quiet moans began to fill the room, Goku dared to run his hand down Vegeta’s side, squeezing his thigh.

Vegeta moaned loudly and pressed back against Goku, unexpectedly. Goku froze again as he realized Vegeta had just felt his whole erection against his ass. “Well damn, anybody would get excited watching them make-out! He can’t blame me!”, he thought, kicking himself for even staying. And then Vegeta rolled his hips. Goku whimpered in his ear, in disbelief that Vegeta of all people would be into this. “What’s wrong puppy? Are we too close for you?” 

The tone of Vegeta’s voice made his stomach flip and his cock leak. He saw Vegeta’s hand slip underneath Bulma’s dress and his vision swam as he heard her breathy cries as his fingers worked her. Bulma reached over Vegeta and cupped Goku’s face and they just looked at each other for a moment. There was no going back if they continued. “Fuck it.” all three of them thought. 

Bulma’s lips slammed against Goku’s. They fought for dominance, sucking each other’s lips until they were both red and swollen. Vegeta slipped down the bed to settle his head between Bulma’s legs. She jerked up into his mouth and cried out. Goku watched him eat her pussy as if it was his last meal on Earth, and his cock strained against his zipper. He pulled down Bulma’s dress keeping his eyes locked with Vegeta’s. Vegeta just followed his motions with interest. Goku caressed her breast, bringing her nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting. She moaned his name and he knew his cock was leaking through his pants. When he saw Vegeta’s mouth curl up into a smile and him slip two fingers inside of Bulma, he had to get them off. Goku’s cock sprang free with an almost comical effect, slapping his stomach and leaving a slick trail. Vegeta’s eyes darkened.

Vegeta ground his hips against the bed, staring at the image of Kakarot jerking his cock and worshipping his wife’s beautiful tits. Bulma’s moans grew louder and more desperate and he knew she was about to cum. He ate her out as if his life depended on it, and grinned when he felt her cum soaking his face. He stood up, wiped his face,  smirked at both of them and quickly undressed. His cock dripped pre-cum and throbbed. “Both of you, get over here and suck my cock.” he said in a gravelly, dangerous voice. They stared at him, almost afraid.

When neither made a motion to move he grabbed Bulma’s foot and dragged her off the bed, ignoring her indignant shrieks as he settled her on her knees. He pulled her head back and wiped the tip of his cock over her lips. Finally, he saw her curious little tongue lick it and pull it into her mouth. Vegeta groaned and stroked her hair. “Kakarot, don’t make me say it twice.”, he said. Goku slipped down off the bed and settled on his knees next to Bulma. He had never sucked anybody’s dick before. He had never even touched another man until Vegeta. He never had the urge until now. 

Bulma loudly and sloppily sucked, deep throating then pulling back, grabbing and lightly stroking his balls. “Well I can do that! That doesn’t look too hard.”, Goku thought. Vegeta pulled his cock out of Bulma’s mouth and did the same thing, setting the wet tip against Goku’s mouth. They stared at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking, both truly in disbelief at the turn of events. Then Goku pulled him into his mouth and groaned around his cock.

Bulma furiously rubbed her clit as she watched her husband fuck her best friend’s face. Vegeta had never done that to her, but she was sure Goku could take it. The wet sound of gagging and pussy filled the room and she cried out and shook as she came. Seconds later, Vegeta came down Goku’s throat with a loud groan. Goku whimpered and swallowed, wondering what was next because Vegeta was still hard as a rock in his mouth. Which didn’t surprise him. He was the same way. It took several thorough fuckings to satiate him. His thoughts drifted to Chi-Chi and her ever-wet pussy. He wondered if Bulma’s was just as good.

Vegeta pulled his cock out of Goku’s mouth with a pop, and lifted up Bulma and threw her onto the bed in swift motion. “Fuck her, Kakarot. You know you’ve always wanted to.” he said, grinning in an almost maniacal way. He pulled Goku up against him and kissed him deeply, tasting his own cum and licking away a stray drop on the corner of his mouth. He leaned forward to whisper into the other Saiyan’s ear, “Her pussy is so good you’ll never want to leave it.”, and licked his ear, making Goku shiver.

Bulma had gotten fully naked, positioned with her ass up and her face down, just like she knew Vegeta liked it. From Goku’s face he probably liked it the same way. He stepped forward and gingerly gripped her ass, running his fingers over her soft skin. He took his thumb and pulled her pussy-lips apart, watching as the glistening liquid drooled onto the bed. “Oh fuck, Bulma. You’re so wet. You’re going to feel so good.”, Goku said, positioning his cock head at her entrance. “You’re so fucking hot, I love you.” And he meant it. He loved them both. 

Bulma grinned at that and shook her ass. “Come on, Kakarot, fuck me.” Goku’s stomach flipped at his Saiyan name coming from her mouth. He began to push into her gently, in and out, in and out, until both were moaning loudly and the slap of skin on skin filled the room. Vegeta had retreated to a chair in the corner where his cock leaked and strained, but he didn’t touch it. He had wondered if he would get angry or possessive watching another man fuck his wife, but this wasn’t just another man, this was Kakarot. He did begin to stroke his cock when Goku flipped Bulma around and began to pound into her, his arms around her while she clawed his back. Their whimpers and moans almost sent him over the edge. “Oh Bulma, you feel amazing. Please come for me, come for me like you do for Vegeta. I know he fucks you so good. Does he come in your tight little pussy? Do you want me to come in your pussy?” Goku breathily whispered into her ear. When Vegeta’s sensitive hearing picked up on what he was saying, he almost came, but he had something else planned.

Bulma raked her nails down his back and screamed “YES!” as her orgasm slammed into her. Her pussy milked his cock and within seconds Goku followed her, fucking his cum deep inside her. He rested his forehead against hers and kissed her softly. He didn’t feel Vegeta’s presence until he was right behind him.

Goku’s head jerked back as Vegeta grabbed a handful of his hair and leaned down so Bulma could see his face. She looked at him with wide eyes. She had never seen Vegeta look so wild. She could hear the deep rumble of his growl and the sharp canines that both he and Goku shared seemed menacing in the moonlight. He smirked at her and licked Goku’s ear before saying, “Was she good, Kakarot? How about something else? It won’t hurt. Much.”

Goku’s eyebrows raised and he looked at Bulma with a panicked expression. Vegeta let his hair go and pushed him down so he was in the same position she had been in. Goku’s eyes widened as he realized what Vegeta meant. “Vegeta, I’ve never done that before, I’m…scared.”, he said, laying on the pleading tone he knew Vegeta always folded to. Suddenly, he felt something cold drip onto him and went to move away, but Vegeta’s hands held him tight. He wiped the substance gently over Goku’s asshole, rubbing until he heard a soft moan. Then he slowly pressed his finger in, then two, then three, working him open as Goku turned into a gibbering mess underneath him. Bulma lazily played with herself, waiting for the show to begin.

“Oh God, Vegeta, please, I need it.”, Goku begged, his cock red and angry. Whatever Vegeta was doing had him right on the edge already. “You need what, Kakarot?” he said in that low tone that made Goku’s stomach drop. “I need your cock inside me, please! Fuck me!” he cried, leaking all over the bed.

“I always knew you would be a fucking whore for me.” Vegeta said, before slamming his cock hard into Goku. Goku screamed and buried his face in the bed, as Vegeta began to set a punishing pace. Bulma couldn't believe her eyes. Her husband, moaning and saying absolute filth, and her best friend, drooling, pleading, crying into the bed. “You fucking slut, are you gonna come on my cock? You like being fucked? Maybe we should have just done this from the beginning! Think of it Kakarot, you screaming on my cock instead of me beating the shit out of you! Or we could do both.” Vegeta said, as he leaned forward to wrap a hand around Goku’s throat, pressing hard. Goku gasped and choked, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Bulma grew concerned and opened her mouth to tell Vegeta to stop, but at that moment Goku came, sobbing, his thighs shaking, his cum soaking his stomach and the bed. Vegeta released his throat and kept fucking his limp body as Goku whimpered and reached for Bulma. 

She scooted forward and pulled Goku’s head into her lap, stroking his hair. His hands gripped her thighs and he tried to pull away from the prince, but Vegeta grabbed his hips and slammed back into him. Goku felt the pressure in his cock begin to build again. “You’re doing such a good job for him. Just taking it like that. You’re such a good boy. Are you gonna come again? Can you come for me?” He smelled her wetness and thought of Vegeta making Bulma moan and cum like this. Did he fuck her until she was crying and spent? Every night? 

“Mmm, Kakarot, you’re so tight. Oh fuck, I can feel you coming again, that’s it, fucking milk it, I know you want it.” Vegeta moaned, before finally giving into his orgasm. Bulma watched Vegeta as his eyes went vacant and he shook and moaned. He pulled out of Goku gently, and crawled up into the bed with weak legs before plopping down, breathing hard. Goku began to slip off the bed but Bulma grabbed his arm, giggling. Goku started to laugh too, and moved up the bed so Bulma was cradling him against her chest. She glanced over at Vegeta to see his black eyes glaring at them both,  knowing he was not done but that he was giving Goku time to recover a little. He stood and walked to the bathroom, no doubt to clean up a little.

Goku began to suck on Bulma’s tit, rutting against the bed as Vegeta’s cum leaked out of him. “Woman, come here and get on top of me.” Vegeta commanded, laying back on the bed with his usual unimpressed look. She rolled away from Goku, smirking back at him when he slapped her round ass. Goku watched as Bulma climbed on top of him, kissing his neck and grinding against his cock. Vegeta moaned, his cock drooling onto his stomach. When she finally lowered herself onto him, they both cried out, sensitive from their respective fucks with Goku. Vegeta gripped her ass and bit his lip as she began to ride him, but before long he was gripping the sheets and throwing his head back. Goku stroked himself furiously, watching Bulma’s juices leak down Vegeta’s girthy cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bulma. Oh my God, just like that. You fuck me so good!” Bulma expertly moved her hips, delaying her own release and his. A steady stream of words in Saiyago spilled from Vegeta’s mouth. His pupils were blown wide. She looked over at Goku and smiled, cocking her head. This would be the time, if ever.

Goku took that as an invitation and moved closer, positioning himself by Vegeta’s head. The Saiyan prince looked up at him with an expression that made Goku’s cock jump. “‘Geta, you look so hot right now. Is this what she does to you all the time? How can you even walk? God, I want to fuck your mouth.” he said, carefully placing the head of his cock against Vegeta’s red cheek. Vegeta’s tongue snaked out and licked it, pulling it into his mouth. Goku groaned and watched as Vegeta expertly sucked his cock, bringing him close to the edge within only a couple of minutes. He noticed Bulma couldn’t hold back any longer by her desperate loud moans and pulled his cock out so he could watch their faces while they came. “Ah, Vegeta, fuck, fuck, oh my God!” she cried, squirting down the length of his cock. For once, Vegeta had nothing to say. He had turned to Goku and was screaming into his thigh as he came.

Bulma flopped on the bed, exhausted. She was done for the night, but she knew the Saiyans had at least one more round in them. And she was not gonna miss this. Vegeta gripped Goku’s wrist and smiled that maniacal smile again. “Kakarot, how would you like to fuck me?” Goku’s cock literally jumped and he gulped. In a flash, Vegeta had him on his back, smirking down at him. “Fuck, you’re big.” Vegeta said as he leaned down to kiss Goku softly, positioning himself to take the other Saiyan. “Vegeta, don’t you need the same stuff I did? Won’t it hurt?”, he asked, holding the smaller man’s hips in place. “As if pain ever stopped me from doing anything, Kakarot.” 

Vegeta lowered himself onto Goku’s cock, wincing and whimpering. Goku held him still as his legs began to shake and he screwed up his face in pain. Finally, he began to move, riding Goku’s cock just as well as Bulma rode his. Goku stared up at him in awe. He never imagined he could see Vegeta this way, vulnerable, begging and whimpering and moaning for him!  “Fuck, Kakarot! Fuck me, fuck me hard!” Goku grabbed him around the waist and flipped him, pulling his ass into the air and pressing his face into the bed. Instead of the punishing pace Vegeta had set, Goku fucked him deeply, bottoming out with each thrust, hitting that spot inside him each time. Vegeta drooled into the bed, gripping the sheets and muttering nonsense. Bulma stroked his hair, but was silent. Goku felt that familiar pressure but gritted his teeth and held it back. He wanted to make Vegeta come apart first in the best way he knew how. “Vegeta, you feel so good, baby. So tight and warm, I never want to stop fucking you. I love it, I love you. You’re doing so good for me. Please come for me, I want to hear you come.” 

Vegeta suddenly sobbed, and dropped his face into the bed. Goku began to slow down, worried he went too far, but Bulma shook her head and mouthed “Keep going. He needs this.” With that, he turned Vegeta over quickly so he could look him in the eyes as he fucked him. At this angle, he knew the prince wouldn’t last long. He pulled Vegeta close and licked his tears away and started whispering in his ear, “Vegeta, I love you. I need you. This feels so good, so right. You’ve always wanted this right, me inside you? You’re made for me, right? Say it!” Goku began to furiously pump in and out, and Vegeta saw stars. “YES, yes, yes, fuck don’t stop, please don’t stop! Goku, please, I love you!” And they were coming together, clinging tightly, whimpering and crying.

They pulled away from each other, exhaustion finally claiming all three of the lovers. Goku woke up first the next morning, limbs askew and dangerously dehydrated. He studied Vegeta’s sleeping face, burning every detail into his brain forever. And when Vegeta woke, and smiled the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen, he knew he would never willingly leave this man ever again.

[f0rlorn]

flicker in the dark → coral

coral!tbosas x reader

notes → in which you meet the tribute you will be mentoring, and she turns out to be something you never would’ve expected. feminine intended reader though i do not know if pronouns are brought up.

warnings → y’all, she is so over the top ooc… (i molded her character after vi from arcane lol 🙈) not edited & uploaded via iphone!! i also haven’t written in months lol

    trailing behind your fellow mentor and dear friend, lysistrata vickers, you couldn’t help but grow anxious of the impending meeting with the tribute you had been assigned. nearing the zoo where the tributes were being kept in this year, your heart rate sped up. the practice of mentoring a tribute was something that had never been done before, so nerves were on edge. and on top of that, the thought of the twenty-four district children being kept on display in a monkey house was enough to make you shiver with disgust. though, it was not much better than the horse stables they had been kept in prior to this year. if you were lucky, your tribute would be willing to cooperate with you like coriolanus’ girl, lucy gray, had. thoughts swamped your brain as lyssie dragged you to the front of the cage, about to part ways with you to find her respective tribute, the hulking district twelve boy.

     “y/n, you have nothing to lose here. we’re simply here to help them get through this as easily and… painlessly as possible,” she said, muttering the last phrase with underlying bitterness. both lysistrata and yourself were not fans of the hunger games. the prospect of dehumanizing and stripping the rights, as well as dignity, away from children your own age was safe to say, unappealing. with the war long over, shouldn’t the killing have ended by now too?

     “i know, lyssie, i just…” you paused, averting your gaze, “don’t know if i’ll be able to face her knowing what she’s about to go through. to think she’s our age, too… it’s… i don’t know how i can even help her.” you couldn’t find the words to accurately form your thought, but lysistrata understood.

     “i get it, i do. just show her what you brought her.” lysistrata patted you on the back and wandered towards the side of the enclosure that her tribute resided in. it didn’t take long to spot your tribute, who’s name you learned to be coral. her fiery red hair could be pinpointed from a mile away.

     you sighed, slowly walking up to the metal bars of the enclosure. “coral?” you tried, catching the attention of some tributes sitting closer to the bars, but not coral. pausing, you pursed your lips and tried again, calling out for her louder. this got the attention of her district partner, mizzen, who nudged coral. she looked up at mizzen and he nodded towards you. unsure of what exactly to do as they both glared at you, you waved sheepishly. coral gave a look to mizzen, then stood, striding over to where you were standing.

     as she reached the bars, you had to shift your gaze upwards to look her in the eye. “and who might you be, doll face?” she asked, her tone condescending as she eyed you up and down.

  “hi, i’m y/n, i’ll be your mentor for the games.” you stuck your hand through the bars to her and attempted to introduce yourself, but realized that the hand you had offered was holding the bag of items that you had brought for her. you quickly placed it down for a second to properly shake her hand, only for her to ignore the gesture and continue to stare expectantly.

      “mendor, huh? so rainbow girl was right after all.” you nodded in agreement, assuming she was referring to lucy gray. “so what are you gonna do for me?” you paused, thinking of the best way to put it.

     “i’m going to try my best to help you win. and take care of you, of course.” the look she gave you made you think you had three heads, and you shrunk under her gaze.

     “i’m sorry, sweetheart, but how are you going to help me?” she almost laughed.

     “well, my job as a mentor is to introduce you to the public, to make you more appealing so that people will want to watch the games.” you explained.

     “appealing, huh. am i not already?” coral asked mockingly, criticizing your choice of words. she moved forward to grip to bars and stooped down boldly to be eye to eye with you. you stuttered, quickly looking away in embarrassment.

     “i mean- yes- but that wasn’t what i meant, really!” you quickly tried, but she simply laughed at you. regaining her posture, she glanced at the bag you had set on the floor.

     “and what’s this?” she queried, urging you to pick it up and show her.

     “i brought you some food!” you offered, “you should really eat if you want to make it into the arena with enough strength to fight.” you tried, which was a dumb, obvious statement, but it seemed like a safe bet.

     “i appreciate the sentiment, sweetheart. but you don’t know what i need and don’t need.” despite the nickname, her tone was brimmed with hostility. you didn’t blame her for refusing the food, your very essence reeked of privilege, and you could tell she wasn’t one to accept pity favors. the stark contrast of your ironed uniform and manicured nails next to her unwashed attire and nails covered in dirt was off putting. you could not imagine how she felt being here, being forced to play a losing game. and on top of that, the ones who had put her in this position claimed to want to help her. the war was hard for everybody, but your family had managed to pick itself back up off of it’s feet. on the other hand, families in the district had to pay the price for lives they did not take.

     “i’m just trying to help, coral, really. these games are- they’re horrible. if i had a choice i wouldn’t participate. but i don’t. so the least i could do is help you get through them.” you spilled your opinion to her in hopes that she would accept the sustenance. picking the bag up off of the ground, you unzipped it, allowing her to take a look at the food you had brought.

     stuffed full of homemade chicken and cheese sandwiches, as well as some other miscellaneous foods sitting closer to the bottom, it was evident you had spent time trying to organize food for her to have. she glanced at the bag, then whipped her head around towards mizzen, calling him towards her. he approached and she showed him the arrangement of foods. you saw his eyes light up and you couldn’t help but feel helpful, as small a gesture as it was.

     “i don’t know if they’ve fed you or not, but…” you trailed off, allowing them to take a few of the sandwiches and an abundance of fruit, as well as a hardboiled egg or two. peering around at the rest of the tributes, some of which had been staring at the bag of food, you realized that if you were to give them the whole contents of the bag now, others would try to steal some. and while that was not necessarily a bad thing, considering your guilt for them in this situation, you had made these strictly for coral, and mizzen was just a part of the package. “coral, maybe you should eat these now. i don’t think it’s the greatest idea to hand over all of the food right now.” you suggested. she quickly realized what you meant and plopped down to the floor, egg in mouth and mizzen close behind. as you looked down at her sitting criss-cross in shock, she gestured for you to take a seat as well. it was like a picnic of some sorts. the odd, repulsive sort of one, but a picnic nonetheless.

     the pair made no effort to make conversation as they chowed down their food, and you couldn’t blame them. you twiddled your thumbs in silence for a solid twelve minutes before anyone had spoken up. scoping out the rest of the tributes, you realized that coral was a very strong contender compared to some of the other girls. the thought that the odds may be in her favor brought a smile to your face. “thanks, cupcake.” coral was already on her feet before you could even process the statement. you stood, dusting the dirt off of your uniform before smiling at coral.

     “it’s what i’m here for. i’ll try to check in as much as i can. there’s some events that the gamemakers are planning, too. they want to hold one on one mentor-tribute interviews, a tour of the arena, as well as an additional interview that will be aired to panem.” you informed her and mizzen, who made sure to stand close by.

     “so this won’t be the last i see of you?” she asked.

     “most definitely not.” you confirmed, nodding.

     “good.” she winked, turning away with mizzen in tow. from the interaction, she proved to be quite the enigma. despite her circumstances, she still had a confident, collected, and enticing aura about her, leaving you in awe, if not more.

[iris-sistibly]

The Targ Talk: House of the Dragon S2

Episode 3 commentary:

Late to the party again but anyway,

Alicent and Criston's lOveY doVey moment before the cunt left is cringey af.

Rhaenys defending Rhaenyra from the council full of men is *chef's kiss* she's the only one who understands why the queen has been holding back. I get the council's point that they should be acting now because the greens are advancing. If you really think about it, it's really too late for peace negotiations, but the queen's desperate attempts to choose a peaceful way to end this conflict--despite how hopeless, was because she knew how important it was to keep the houses united (the prophecy), she also knew that this war will cause the downfall of their House, and more innocent lives will be claimed including her loved ones and she cannot allow that.

Rhaenyra sending her babies away to keep them safe will never not be heartbreaking. I feel bad for Rhaena too, all her life she felt useless and unloved. It sucks because she never felt like a true Targaryen just because she didn't have a dragon at the time (she wouldn't have Morning until much, much later). But my girl would be taking care and watching over two future kings. A role that Rhaenyra entrusted her, which is just as important.

I've read that Geeta Patel confirmed that Dany's dragons were actually Syrax's babies, which surprised me because those three looked more like Dreamfyre than Syrax or even Caraxes (if he's their dad). I even thought that Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal were those three eggs Elissa Farman stole from way, way back (like Rhaena Targaryen, the OG rider of Dreamfyre days). Perhaps they purposely did that since Daenerys came from Rhaenyra and Daemon's line but they should have at least made Syrax look like Dany's dragons 🤷.

Milly Alcock briefly appearing in Season 2 🥹🥹 Although that scene when she was sewing Jaehaerys' neck while singing gave off a really creepy vibe, it served as Daemon's conscience and I love the way they delivered it. Hands down to Matt Smith!!! I love that scene when Daemon teared up upon realizing how much pain he had caused Rhaenyra, Matt was impeccable.

I love how Crispy Cunt and Gwayne were scrambling to save their asses from getting burned by Moondancer. Baela scaring the shit out of them is priceless, and her dragon is a cutie.

Strangely, even if Aegon is back to his Joffrey Barratheon era I don't hate him as much as the latter. He is so easy to manipulate to the point that it makes him so pathetic, I feel sorry for him that he's only king by name. However, I feel worse for Helaena. She was setting aside her own grief because she felt like the small folk had it worse. Girl you are allowed to mourn, you did not deserve that kind of trauma.

Speaking of which, I wish they have shown more of Helaena's grief--the guilt, the nightmare that kept haunting her, OR Helaena setting her emotions aside because she felt that she does not deserve to mourn the death of Jaehaerys because she felt guilty of what she did. I think that would have been truer to what Helaena actually feels (and closer to her story in the book). Though I commend her strength for being able to "forgive" Alicent, not just for what happened to Jaehaerys, but perhaps for the things she fucked up in the past. Though I've read a fan theory that the scene could also depict Helaena's vision that Alicent might betray the greens in an attempt to correct her mistake or something like that, what do you think?

Ewan Mitchell is brave for doing that nude scene to show Aemond's vulnerable side. He is cold, fierce, and intelligent on the outside, but underneath that armor, he is someone who has suffered so much at a young age and is still hurting until now.

I'm still mad at this incredibly stupid writing that Alicent thought Viserys was referring to their son Aegon. Imagine losing your children, killing each other, and traumatizing your surviving loved ones over a misunderstanding. A fucking misunderstanding. Idk what the screenwriters were thinking or who came up with this idea but...I cannot.

Rhaenyra's last attempt, as expected was pointless. Even if Alicent admitted that she fucked up, and declare Rhaenyra as the rightful queen, she knew it wouldn't change anything. Aegon [most likely] wouldn't just suck it up and accept Rhaenyra as queen knowing how angry he is at her for his son's death, and it's not like the council would listen to Alicent anyway, so much are already at stake and I don't think the greens would back down just like that.

[vlyrn]

Jaheira

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

This is so self indulgent sorry, I want to be her controversially young wife.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Youthful Vigour - c.ai , j.ai

Even now, Jaheira found herself marveling at the softness of peace—how it slipped in, unnoticed, once the swords were sheathed and the banners lowered. The war had ended, the Absolute crushed beneath its own arrogance, and the city of Baldur’s Gate, wounded but unbowed, began the slow work of healing. For the first time in what felt like centuries, she’d come home—not merely to stone walls and an old estate thick with memories, but to a life that no longer required armor at every turn.

And in that life, improbably, beautifully, there was Neri.

The age between them was more than a line—it was a chasm of lifetimes and heartbreak, of revolutions and friends buried deep in the soil of Faerûn. But somehow, Neri had crossed it without fear, weaving themselves into her days with stubborn warmth and quiet insistence. They shared her roof, her hearth, her garden with the ivy creeping up the stone. They shared her bed.

Gods, how easily they had made it feel like home again.

Today had been one of those rare days of familial duty—visiting her grown children, offering news of the city, and letting them size up the mortal who’d stolen their mother’s attention. It had gone well, all things considered. Her children had smiled, welcomed Neri as best they could. But age brought with it a biting wit, and a few too many clever jabs about Jaheira’s “latest lover being closer in years to her apprentices than her peers” had hung a little too long in the air.

She hadn’t missed the way Neri’s shoulders tensed, how their laughter turned hollow toward the end of the evening. They’d said nothing on the way home. She hadn’t pressed. Not yet.

Now, dusk settled over the house in ribbons of amber and violet. The hearth crackled with a low, steady burn, and the last light of the day spilled across the floorboards like spilled honey. Jaheira stood in the doorway of the sitting room, watching Neri pace slowly near the window, still cloaked, their brow furrowed in thought.

She said nothing at first. She just watched. The way their silhouette caught the light, the way their jaw clenched in that quiet, restrained way that spoke more of pride than pain.

She crossed the room without ceremony, her presence a whisper more than a sound, and laid a hand on their arm. “They were jesting,” she said plainly, the rough edge of her voice softened only by familiarity. “It’s how they make sense of things they don’t understand.”

Jaheira raised an eyebrow, half amused, half exasperated, and stepped in closer. Her voice dipped low, not unkind, but edged with the firmness she’d honed in war and in love. “You faced mind flayers without blinking, and now a few jokes unsettle you?”

Their silence was answer enough.

She took the hem of their cloak and began to undo it herself, slow and deliberate, her fingers brushing against the skin beneath. “You know, I didn’t think I’d want this,” she murmured, not quite looking up. “Peace. Affection. Domesticity. I’ve buried too many people to believe in happy endings. But then you showed up. You, with your young eyes and your foolish hope. And gods help me, you made me want it again.”

The cloak slid from their shoulders to the floor with a soft whisper.

“I’m not ashamed of you. And you should never be ashamed of me,” she said, voice quieter now. “Let them make their little jokes. They haven’t seen what I’ve seen. They haven’t felt what I feel when I touch you.”

She leaned in then, her mouth brushing their temple, their cheek, the corner of their jaw. Each kiss lingered longer than the last. Her hands, callused and sure, slid around their waist, anchoring them in place. “Do you know how long it’s been since I wanted someone like this?” she asked, her lips grazing their throat. “Since I ached for a hand beside mine, for warmth in my bed that didn’t vanish with the dawn?”

Her fingers tangled in their hair, and her breath was hot against their skin. “You make me feel alive, not just surviving. Don’t let anyone steal that from you.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Masterlist

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Hi! Thanks for your last response. I have another question but more so for the writer in you. In an AU where after both marriages to Daemon and Laenor Rhaenyra has had no children at all but not of her own free will (so no kids with Harwin), how would that affect the characterisation of Viserys, Rhaenyra, Alicent, Aegon?

I have my ideas of course but I'm curious what you think 😀

Okay I had to think about this one a bit but I actually think that in this scenario the Dance probably wouldn't have happened.

If Rhaenyra has no children at all, Aegon is her heir by default. In this situation, it's not really worth risking a war to put Aegon on the throne earlier, especially because Rhaenyra now has an actual vested interest in keeping her brothers alive. The thing is, although sometimes we hear that Rhaenyra had to have children to secure the succession, the succession was secure through her brothers and their children, strictly speaking. Having your very own bloodline on the throne is not strictly necessary (just look at Elizabeth I), it's a want, not something needed for the good of the realm. So in this situation its in Otto and Alicent's best interests just to wait her out. Worst case scenario, Rhaenyra outlives Aegon (and if he's still hard drinking in this world, this isn't unlikely) and Aegon's child succeeds him which means....

If all else remains the same, the thing to do would be to pursue Baela as a bride for Aegon (how convenient for me!). In this scenario Daemon isn't getting any closer to the throne than that unless he attempts to usurp Rhaenyra with the Velaryons, and for all that he sucks I just can't see him doing that. A Baela/Aegon match would be a smart move in any scenario, but in this one it's ideal because the only real threats to the succession now come from the Velaryon line and Daemon's chaotic self, and if you neutralize the Velaryons you neutralize Daemon too because any resistance Daemon could possibly mount would always depend upon Velaryon backing. Otherwise he's just one guy with a dragon. That said, if Rhaenyra dies at a normal-ish age, Daemon is likely going to be long gone by then, so he's really kind of a non-issue in a world where he only has the two daughters by Laena.

Alicent is probably a lot more chill because her sons are not really in any danger. Instead of being obstacles for Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra instead needs them in order to prove that the succession is handled. Rhaenyra might actually have some motivation to bond with Aegon at the very least, seeing as he is her heir. And honestly, it's pretty likely that Aegon is a bit more well adjusted in a world where he doesn't have a sword of damocles hanging over his head the whole time, and in which his mother can just be a regular old slightly neurotic repressed lesbian (and hell, in this scenario maybe she and Rhaenyra could actually have a discreet affair. hmm...). Viserys probably still ignores his non-Rhaenyra children but maybe that fucks them up a bit less because it doesn't feel like he's actually trying to get them killed, it just makes him more of a regular asshole father (if the regular asshole was a king).

In a lot of ways, this would kind of be a win-win scenario, so it's interesting that so many people jump on the "Rhaenyra had to have kids to secure the line of succession, what was she supposed to do, force Laenor??" thing. Clearly Rhaenyra didn't have to have kids, she wanted to, which is absolutely her choice and her right, but it also makes her a lot like her father.

[fangirlstorycreator]

Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Travelling the world to explore and learn, your suprised when you find yourself in the company of the Targaryen's. But one amongst them formed a closer bond than the others, but was that a blessing, or a curse? Your history and family are questioned by everyone, and in time you aswell. But what could this mean? And is your future with the greens? Or the black? That's all going to come to light....especially learning about your capabilities....even with the most deadly of creatures.....

(P.S. Anything in red is a character speaking in high valyrian)

Contains: explicit language/C word 😬/aggressive behaviour/fighting/not for minors

Part 1/3

Dragons...war...destruction and chaos...this was the world you were born into. You learned very quickly that life was dangerous, filled with bad people, cruel motives and even worst things people had to do just to get by, or fill their belly with food. You were an only child, and never met your parents, so being raised by your grandmother was what you had instead. Your grandmother owned a brothal, made a rather successful career in employing women to make money, and bring in the men who would give as much coin as they desired. Your she herself was once a wh#re, as she put it, after leaving her disastrous family to make her own way in life. During her time of making this brothal her own, she had two children, one boy, one girl. Her son grew up and left to have a life of his own, while her daughter, your mother, chose to work closer to home, your grandmother's brothal. You were told that the man who impregnated your mother had emerald green eyes, and your mother's were violet. Your mother took after hers, having long white hair, however, when you were born, you looked very different to how you were expected to come. On the day of your birth, there you came. Held in your mother's arms right after giving you life, and you were extremely unique. Not white hair like your mother's and hers before her, but brown hair, with a patch of white on the right side of your head. Also your hair wasn't straight like your mother's either, it was curly and bouncy, according to your grandmother, your father had curly bouncy hair. That was something noone had seen in a baby before, however, the most unique part about you was when you opened your eyes. One green eye, one violet. Unfortunately, your mother passed away soon after you were born due to an illness brought on through child birth, you never had the chance to meet her.

But your grandmother spoke about her in many positive ways, helping you keep a little part of your mother growing up. You saw what the brothal was like when you were a child, witnessed the men coming and going, and new what the women were expected to do. Your grandmother explained it all to you, and why she chose to make this place what it was. But no matter what, your grandmother had always told you that you could choose your own path in life, decide your own way, and if you wanted something, you needed to fight for it. Don't just settle. Search, find, explore, just like she did. According to her, she was born into a family that made choices about her life before she was even born. Not allowing her to do what she wished, or go wherever she wanted, it was like being born into slavery. She didn't want to be used like a pawn in someone else's game, she didn't want to be used as something to make babies for the next generation. If she wanted a child, she'd choose to have one with whomever she wanted. She didn't tell you who her family were, just that they weren't a family she'd choose. And having the freedom to have her own son and daughter away from that life, was more than she could have hoped for. From a young age, you knew you didn't want to settle down or have babies, you wanted to explore the world and find all the beauty and adventures in it. You wanted freedom, skills, knowledge, and noone was going to stop you from getting it. Your grandmother adored you, and supported you in your dreams. There was something she used to say to you whenever you showed your strength and capabilities.

"You have the fire of a dragon in your heart my darling. Let the world see you burn"

You never knew why she said that, maybe it was because she told you tales of dragons who belonged to the royal bloodline, The Targaryen's. In tales she told, The Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen had claimed the dragon known as Syrax, a beautiful golden female dragon. As well as her other family members, her father Viserys, who rode The Black Dread, Balerion. And his brother Daemon, rider of Caraxes, and many many more. You were fascinated by the stories of the dragons, especially those who were wild or unclaimed. She told you about 3 wild dragons, Sheepstealer, Greyghost and The Cannibal. Noone had claimed these dragons before, and noone had lived when confronting them, especially the most dangerous of all...The Cannibal. The Cannibal fascinated you the most, he was said to be the largest of the wild dragons, and had been given the name due to him killing and eating his own kind. Now that was one dangerous creature. Can you imagine anyone claiming him? It would seem anyone who has tried, has found out the hard way...but what if it was possible? What if indeed...By the age of nine-and-ten, you were just one year away from turning 20, and new that this was the time to venture out on your own. Your grandmother had helped you with learning life lessons, how to keep yourself safe and not to care what anyone says. In her own words.

"If someone's acting like a cunt, treat them like a cunt"

That was one of your favourite things she ever told you. Not only that, but you had taken lessons on weaponry as well as hand to hand combat skills. Your grandmother had paid for the best teachers to help you fight as well as, or even better than most fighters of the generation. So not only were you mentally prepared for the world, but you were physically prepared for it too, having knowledge and skills with every weapon and blade known to man. The day you left your grandmother, she was so proud of you and what you've achieved. She wished you luck on the path, and told you there was a forever home for you hear, if you ever wanted to come back. She was so understanding of you not wanting to be a whore in the brothal, which was something your mother had chosen for herself. She was proud to see you leave and fight for yourself, to hear about your adventures and what you'll become. Right before you left, your grandmothers last words to you were.

"And if you see your uncle, tell him I wish him well"

"Trust me grandmother, when I see him I'll probably knock him out"

"You two always had a weird way of expressing love for eachother"

"It's a sign of strength and respect! Only my uncle and I get to do that, it's kind of like our own little family tradition"

"Just TRY not to knock him out this time if you come across him ok? I know he taught you that, but you've grown stronger in your years"

"While he's grown, what? Weaker?"

"Don't let him hear you say those words darling"

"As if I would. Goodbye grandmother, I hope to return with many stories of adventures"

"And I'll be ready for each and every one of them"

With one final wave, you climb onto your horse and trot through the streets, onto whatever life was going to throw at you. The first few months were definitely an interesting start. You had taken on small contracts to help the innocents of the land. Weather it be helping them rebuild their home from a storm, or paid to slay a beast that was hunting and killing people. Whatever it was, you were truly living, and fighting just like you wanted. Every time you went to a new place, you had sent a letter to your grandmother, telling her about your adventures. She was always so pleased to hear from you, and no matter where you were, you always sent her a letter, as she did to you. It wasn't all smooth sailing though. There were many times you yourself were in very dangerous situations, but managed to overcome them with your determination. One time a short while back, a band of pirates had climbed aboard the ship taking you to a new area, when they attacked you and the rest of the crew. While you did incredibly well to slay nearly half of them with ease, you didn't see one sneek up from behind you and reach around to stab you right above your belt line. You were weakened, but killed the pirate who hurt you. You had no idea how the night ended until you woke up the next morning to a healer on the ship, tending to your wound. She had told you the knife wound had damaged something that was unable to be fixed. The short version, you weren't able to bare any children, not one. The wound that would soon be scar tissue had stopped any chance of you creating life, and yet....you weren't upset. This world was dangerous enough as it was, and you didn't want to be a mother, if anything, this was a blessing in disguise. Once you healed up a few weeks later, you were back to doing whatever you wished, including indulging in the pleasures of men. Now that there was no fear of pregnancy, you could truly enjoy sex rather than fear it, and it was incredible.

Some men knew what they were doing, some were not as impressive. But you were young and free, and had your whole life ahead of you, with a choice of anywhere to go. One sunny day, a ship you happened upon had taken you to another place you had yet to see, Kings Landing. The tales about this place were true. There were hundreds of people who lived and worked there, streets filled with life, with many different kinds of people too. You had only recently heard of the issues that had gone on hear. With King Viserys dying, his first born son Aegon being named King, and many of the people choosing sides of either the current King, or The Princess who was named heir, Rhaenyra. You didn't follow the politics of the royal family very much, but you did know this new information, and that The Princess had left for Dragonstone, but was still eager to reclaim her birthright. Hopefully this wasn't something that was going to get in the way of your visit hear. Walking through the streets, many looked at you, in awe or suprise. It was clear that the people hear hadn't seen a young woman in light armour, weapons kept close and a confidence about her. Or maybe it was that your personal features were different? Not changing from birth, you still had your white streak of hair, proudly on show in your ponytail of wavy brown locks. Your emerald green and violet eyes scanning everyone and everything you see, taking in all you wanted to know.

It was at that moment, that you witness a small child being pulled by their hand by a man in armour. This child couldn't have been more than 5-6? What did he think he was doing with him?

"Please sir! I only wanted an apple to feed my sister! My mother is unwell and can't work for us!"

"Shut it you little shit! You were caught stealing! And for that (he says raising his dagger above the boys hand) You will face the punishment!"

"No! NO!"

Everyone watched in shock, not brave enough to stand up to this soldier, about to bare witness to this little boy having his hand chopped off. But you weren't going to stand for it. The split second his blade was going to slice at this little boy, you grab the soldiers wrist, and held him firmly in your grasp, everyone around you fell into silence.

"Who dares lay hands on The Kings Guard?!"

"Someone who doesn't tolerate bullies"

You say proudly, twisting his wrist back and kicking him to the ground, everyone gasping as he does. The poor little boy shakes with fear, but while the soldier collects himself, you kneel beside this child, and whisper.

"Go and hide behind the banner over there. I'll come and find you once it's over ok?"

Simply nodding his head, he ran quicker than his feet could carry him, and you wait patiently for the soldier to stand, hands crossed, waiting patiently when he starts brushing the dirt from his knees.

"You insolent whore! You dare approach and lay hands on a man like that?"

"Interesting you should ask that, considering you were the one who was hurting a child, and was about to cut off his hand"

"The child...was a THIEF!"

"Do you hear yourself? He's a child. Who told you he was trying to feed his family. You seriously think you have the right to hurt him?"

"Any thief will face the consequences of The Kings Guard"

"Is that right? And The King himself put this rule out to all the people of the city?"

"Yes!"

"The former King Viserys? Or the current King Aegon?"

"By order of King Aegon Targaryen, anyone who steals in Kings Landing shall face the penalty!"

"And did he include children in that?"

"A thief is a thief! No matter the age!"

"Well then, in my personal opinion, any King who thinks it's acceptable to punish a hungry child for taking an apple, by cutting off their hand....is a cunt"

The entire street gasp in horror! Noone had said anything bad about The King before! Let alone infront of The Kings Guard.

"What....did you just say?!"

"Oh? Did you not hear me the first time? Any King who thinks it's acceptable to punish a CHILD like that....is a CUNT!"

The soldier pulled out his sword, pointing it in your direction.

"You dare speak about The King in this way?! I shall kill you hear and now for your slander! Repent, and I may spare you with a lifetime in the castle dungeons"

"Pfftt! Is that little sword supposed to scare me?"

That's when you pull out a 6 inch tube from behind you on your belt, you subtlety press a button and out of each end shoots a hidden weapon. The moment you press it, this small object turns into a double ended spear, that also makes everyone gasp in amazement. Smirking and giving it a few easy, and impressive swirls in your hand, you hold it beside you, ready for anything he throws at you.

"You want to kill me? Go ahead. Oh! I must let you know, the last man who said he'd kill me, ended up with his head on a spike...I'm just saying...."

The soldier can hear the firm confidence in your voice, you stand still, ready for anything. Whereas he is starting to shake in his armour.

"A woman can't fight! All women are whores! And once I'm through with you, I'll make you my OWN personal bitch!"

"Hhsss, oh dear....seems I'm going to have to teach you some manners..."

The second he swung his sword, you slashed his armour right off from his torso, slice at his hand holding his sword, and kicking him to the ground as you stand before him. One foot pressed on his chest and your spear pointed directly at his throat, he was powerless to you, and everyone around could see that.

"Now...what was that you were saying about calling me a whore? And wanting to put me in the castle dungeons?"

"I-I, uh-umm"

"Speak up little man"

"I, I'm sorry. Please forgive me"

"Get up...and if you try and harm an innocent child again, or get in my way while I'm hear, I won't be so merciful next time. Now run off to your King. I intend to drop by the castle shortly. Hopefully another view on this situation can change how The King views children in the eyes of the law"

Without hesitation, he stormed away in the other direction, that's when the people of Kings Landing who had watched the whole thing, started applauding you. It would seem there aren't many people over hear who stick up for them. You just generously nod, and excuse yourself, heading to the little boy who was hiding behind the banner. Kneeling down, you speak gently as not to frighten him.

"Are you ok?"

"Y-yes my lady"

"No need to call me lady, just call me Y/N"

"Ok"

"May I ask your name?"

"It's...it's Laeon"

"It's nice to meet you Laeon. If I heard correctly, you tried to take an apple for your sister?"

"Yes...she's hungry, and my mother can't work right now. I can go longer without food, but my sister, she's so much smaller than me"

"You wait hear, I'll be right back"

You stand and walk to one of the market stalls selling food, and buy a fair amount, putting it into a large basket. Apples, bread, preserved food in sealed tubs, dried cured meats and some sweet rolls too. Taking it back to the little boy, you offer him your hand to help him up.

"I would like to give this to your family. Would you care to show the way?

He simply smiled, taking your hand and leading you through the streets and straight to a quiet area with a wooden door. He pushes it open and runs straight to his mother, who was sat on a chair and holding her daughter.

"Laeon! Where have you been?!"

"I'm sorry mother, I was trying to get something for us, for Laenya"

"Oh, it's ok, it's ok. Who-who is this?"

You enter and smile at the mother, Laeon happily bounds up to you.

"Mother! This is Y/N! She helped me in the market street"

"Helped you? I don't understand? What happened?"

Laeon suddenly goes quiet, clearly nervous about what he's done.

"Laeon was trying to get an apple for his sister. A member of the Kings Guard tried to hurt him, and I stepped in-"

"She beat him up mother! She-she kicked him to the ground and swore at him! And she has this BIG spear that-"

"Laeon..."

"Oh! Sorry, I interrupted"

You just smile and shake your head when his mother scolded him for that.

"Anyway, the Kings Guard left and your son lead me to you and your daughter. He told me your unable to work right now, is that right?"

"Ah, yes. I work in the (whispers "brothel") but I've slipped and sprained my foot. I'm unable to perform certain duties and can't walk properly for at least a few days. And without work, I can't afford to buy food for my children"

"Well then, it's a good thing I ran into your son. I've brought you a basket of some food to keep you going. You said you'd be resting for a few days, there's about a weeks worth of food in hear, plus a small bag of coin that can restock that basket if needed"

"Oh, my lady, I can't possibly accept this. I have nothing to give you in return"

"I don't want anything in return. Your son was very brave today, and your a mother trying to do best by her children. Sometimes we need someone who will just give a little help. And hopefully this will"

"You are...unbelievably generous my lady, how can I ever thank you?"

Laeon suddenly jumps and smiles at his mother.

"Do not call her a lady mother! She wants us to use her name. What was it again? Y/B?"

"Y/N"

"Yeh yeh!"

You can't help but chuckle, Laeons mother smiles too.

"Bless you Y/N. I will let my friends and the people know that you are a generous woman who is a kindness to Kings Landing"

"It's really no problem at all. If you don't mind me asking, this is my first time hear in Kings Landing. And it doesn't seem to be very popular. What's the reason why?"

"It's all about the Targaryen's. The royal bloodline who rule this place. The late King Viserys was gentle and understanding to the people. But since he passed away and his son has now become King, it's as if people are of no use to them. I believe it was The Princess who should have been on the iron throne, Rhaenyra was a good woman. But Aegon...we all fear what he will do as King"

"Well then, it seems it's time for me to meet this Aegon. If he thinks it's acceptable to allow fully grown men to what they did to your son, he needs a firm talking too"

"Talk to The King?! But you can't! Noone sees The King unless they are a member of the council, Kings Guard or Targaryen blood!"

"Well today, he's going to have to make an exception-"

"Wait wait! Did Laeon speak true? You took down a member of the Kings Guard?"

"Yes, it was quite easy actually. I don't know who trained him, but he clearly wasn't the best fighter hear"

"Your right! But! Today is where Sir Criston Cole is holding a fighting tournament, in an arena inside the courtyard of the castle. It's where he recruits new soldiers to fight along side him. And whomever is the strongest, not only gets an audience with The King, but gets a chance to work in the castle as the personal guard of the royal bloodline. They could use someone of your kindness, bravery and generosity in the castle, lord knows most of the family in there don't show any of that to us little folk"

"Is that so? Well that's definitely peeked my interest, but the fact I could get an audience just by turning up and fighting? That sounds like a very good idea. I think that's what I shall do"

"Please be careful though! There are 2 men whome no soldier or fighter has managed to defeat. Be careful your not up against one of them"

"And just out of curiosity, who might they be?"

"Sir Criston Cole...and the only man who has won against him in a fight...Aemond Targaryen"

"Aemond? I've heard of that name, isn't he brother of The King?"

"That's correct"

"Well then, it seems I have quite and interesting afternoon ahead of me"

Saying your goodbyes to the family, you made your way back to the market street and asked one of the vendors what the quickest way to the castle was.

"Do you truly intend to speak to The King?"

"I do, and it seems that someone needs too. What he thinks is right in this place is completely unacceptable"

"Whilst I do agree...I fear you might fail"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's nothing against you at all, but it's the fact that your a woman. No woman is truly safe hear in Kings Landing, royal or commoner. In fact, your the very first female fighter I have ever seen, and watching you take down a member of the Kings Guard so quickly and easily, was like watching history being written infront of my own eyes"

"I understand that women aren't seen as real people hear, but maybe the royal family need a different perspective. And I intend to show them that. Now, what was the quickest way again?"

Upon learning how to get there, you soon arrive at the front of the castle, where the fighting arena was being held. A long line of men were up against the wall, waiting to be summoned to the centre, where a man with short dark hair, silver armour was and a white cloak was standing. This must be Criston Cole, The Commander of the Kings Guard, he must be the one to choose who was worthy of an audience with The King. He was twirling his sword around as you stood and waited with the men against the wall, which clearly caused some mumbles and whispers.

"Hey"

One man said to you who stood right beside you, with two other men looking at what was happening.

"This arena is for fighters. Why don't you run along home and cook something in the kitchen for when your husband arrives eh?"

He and the two men laugh at what he said, but you just simply smile.

"Tell me, do you have a wife at home?"

"Yes, and two daughters"

"Hhsss...oh you poor thing"

"What?"

"I just feel bad for your wife. You see, apparently a woman only gives birth to girls if she hasn't had a real orgasm. It seems you can't speak nicely to women, or satisfy them either. So it's a real shame your wife and daughters have to deal with a shovanistic beta male walking around the house all the time. Is that why your over compensating with such a big sword?....Maybe you'd be happier with a dagger? Try asking your wife for recommendations, she must have lots of experience with handling...(looking down at his crotch) smaller items..."

Now that, definitely shut him up, unlike the two men watching, who were laughing till tears came out, you just smile and face the centre again. You look around the arena moments before the fighting started, and up on the main turret, looking down on everything, were a few members of court and the royal bloodline. Lady Alicent Hightower, her father Otto Hightower, King Aegon Targaryen...and someone stood beside him, with long white hair, a focused expression and an eye patch. Was this the brother you had heard about? Whome had claimed the dragon Vhagar? If it was, that was impressive for someone the same age as you. And if it is him, the mother you spoke to had warned you about Criston and him, you needed to be on your guard.

"Attention to all whome have come to the arena! As The Commander of the Kings Guard, I shall be dueling any who dares to face me. Whomever I choose to be a part of the Kings Guard shall have the honour of serving King Aegon Targaryen. And the strongest will have a chance to work as personal guard to The King. Now! Who dares to face me first?"

The man who was beside you clears his throat, and approaches Criston Cole, trying his best to look valiant and brave. However, it would appear his attempt to bark was actually worst than his bite. As Criston had dueled him for a matter of seconds before wounding the man and declaring that he is not strong enough. He left that arena quicker than he had arrived, tale between his legs. One by one, each of the men in the line approached Criston, and they all fell, one way or another to his sword and skills. The last man hobbled away with a damaged leg, only for the arena to now hold Criston...and you. It would seem that he was unaware that a woman had entered, and thought you being there was a mistake.

"My apologies my lady, I believe you may be lost. This is a fighting arena"

"I am well aware of what this is Criston Cole. I am hear to fight"

"With all due respect my lady, women can't fight"

"Care to put that to the test?"

He looked around a little nervously, even the royal family who were watching from above. Surprisingly, it was King Aegon who announced down into the arena.

"Come now Sir Criston! If this woman truly wants to fight, why not give her what she wants? And when she fails, she can go back to being a housewife!"

You hold your tounge and stay firm in your posture, not giving Aegon the satisfaction of your reaction. Now it seems Criston has no choice, his King demands it.

"Alright, step forward my lady"

"You can call me lady when I act like one..."

You say, removing your weapon and opening it just like you did in the market. Twirling and displaying the dangerous and impressive double ended spear you hold. Alicent and Otto think this is barbaric, Aegon starts to get rather excited, thinking this may actually be very interesting. And Aemond...he can't seem to take his eye off you...why?

"Are you ready Criston? Or do you need a break after fighting all those men before me?"

"I never loose my strength"

"Let's see about that"

It was Criston who struck first, but you were more skilled than he ever will be, and slid right out of the way, ducking his sword strike with ease. Again, he swung, over and over, each time you swerve or slide straight out of the way, smiling and not allowing his sword to even touch you. You were doing circles around him, all the men who had come before were all hit by his weapon, yet he couldn't touch you. This was observed by the royal family, with Aegon laughing at Criston failing against a woman. But it would seem that one member was growing more and more fascinated by you, leaning against the turret wall and watching you move with such skill, such control. Aemond Targaryen was almost hypnotized by you.

"Come now Criston! Can't you catch me? I am just a woman after all"

"You cannot fight so you dodge me? That's cowardly!"

"I'm simply avoiding your weak attempts to harm me. Your on the attack, where as if I was on the attack, you'd be on the floor in mere moments"

"I'll believe that when I see it, whore!"

"Oooh, naughty Criston..."

That was the moment you stopped, his sword swung up to your face, but you easily blocked it with your spear. Criston couldn't believe it, someone had successfully blocked him. And he was in for a bigger shock when you used your spear to push his sword away, swiping and slicing at him and his armour, backing him up and frightening him in the process. You were winning, you were in control and Criston was struggling to stay on his feet and defend your strikes. Seconds later, you duck his sword and swipe at his lower legs, he falls to the ground with a loud crash and his sword has been dropped, just out of reach. You stand with your feet beside him, spear pointed at his neck as he sweats and shivers from you defeating him.

"Call me a whore again, and this blade will be the last thing you ever see..."

A loud cheer and round of applause is heard from The King and Otto above, still keeping your blade close and your eyes on Criston, you step back, allowing him to stand and brush himself down after being humiliated by you. From the look on his face, it was clear he hadn't been beaten in a long time, and never by the opposite sex. The doors to you and Criston flew open where Aegon, Aemond and Otto all walk to Criston, Aegon still laughing a little at him.

"I, I apologise Criston, I do. But my! It was just too amusing seeing you beaten so easily, and by a girl no less!"

"My deepest regrets your grace. I must have been caught a little off guard by her"

"Pfftt! Please! We all saw you from above, she ruined you! Haha! Oh my it truly was a spectacular sight to see. And my...I hadn't been close enough to see you properly my lady. What an interesting look you have, is that a white streak in your hair? And the odd coloured eyes too. Green and violet. I apologise for what I said about you earlier"

You say nothing, just stand and listen to him. If your going to speak, it's going to be about the important things, not your looks.

"How interesting, almost as if you have a touch of Targaryen about you. My family have white hair, yet you have but a streak. How did that happen?"

"If I might interject your grace"

"What the f#ck is it Criston?"

"I-I apologise for not being able to find a suitable candidate for the Kings Guard"

As Criston is trying to talk to The King, Aegon still subtly smiles at you. But you continue to stay firm. When you glanced away however, you were suprised to see the younger, yet taller brother Aemond. He was observing you with his one eye, taking in all your features with fascination. He says nothing, does nothing, just looks, but why?

"I-I shall send word for more men to come forth and show their strength-"

"No need Sir Criston...I believe we have a suitable warrior already"

Aegon says proudly looking at you. Otto and Criston are extremely confused, yet Aemond seems to have the smallest of smiles at the corner of his mouth. Otto interject's.

"Your grace, you cannot possibly be considering allowing a woman to join the Kings Guard? She simply got lucky against Sir Criston. He had fought many and must have been tired from that, and she took advantage"

"Well from what I was seeing Otto, this young woman not only gave him the space to make any move he wanted, but gave him ample opportunities to harm her. Alas it would seem he simply wasn't...good enough"

"Your grace-"

"And by the way Otto, I am not considering her as a member of the Kings Guard. I would like to offer her the position of being my personal guard"

"Your grace! This is-"

"Not your place to speak Otto! I am your King and my word is final!"

"....Yes...yes your grace"

"Wonderful! Now, it would seem I need a private conversation with this young woman. Otto you may leave, and you Sir Criston. My lady, if you'd like to follow me?"

The whole of the arena was watching you follow Aegon into the castle, closely followed by his brother Aemond. Aemond walked behind you the whole way, it didn't intimidate you in the slightest, so it must have been for the security of his brother and King. A short walk later, your in the throne room, where Aegon sits himself comfortably on the throne, while Aemond takes his place, standing at the foot of the throne.

"Now then my lady, you truly are an enigma. Not only are you the first woman who has learned how to fight hear, but you also seem to be the only other person besides my brother who has beaten Criston Cole in a match! Now that is impressive. And what's more impressive is your silence. Tell me, are you a mute? Taken a vow of silence?"

"I have taken no vow"

You say proudly, making Aemond listen to you more closely. This had been the first time he had heard your voice, and he was entranced.

"I simply allow my actions to speak for me at the right opportunity"

"Oh really? Well, you've certainly done that today. You've demonstrated great skill, balance, knowledge of weaponry and a calm focus. Something many around hear seem to be lacking these days. How would you like to work as my personal guard?"

"While the offer is a good one, I actually came hear today to speak with you on another matter"

The room falls silent. Both the brothers look at eachother, and Aegon sits up a little more in his throne, looking you straight in the eye.

"Is that so?....There are not many common folk brave enough to try and come straight to The King to discuss simply matters. Those who have tried have ended up in chains, or thrown out of Kings Landing"

"I am aware. However, I am someone who will not feel fear easily. I do not feel intimidated by anyone, especially those who happen to be of royal blood or who sits upon a throne. In my eyes noone is my superior, if there is respect and understanding I shall treat anyone as my equal. So this is something you should greatly consider as I speak to you. If you wish for me to work in your castle, I will not refer to you as your grace, I will not be called a lady, for I do not act like one. We can be on a name basis and I will be truthful with you about anything you wish to discuss. Weather it's politics or simply how you look in certain outfits. All I ask is that you hear a request I have to discuss with you, and agree too. Otherwise I shall leave hear and not come back. I am a patient woman Aegon, and I do not fear death. So what is your answer? Agree, or I walk away. Your choice"

Aegon was stunned into silence, he couldn't speak and was shocked by everything you just said. Unlike his brother, who now definitely had a smile on his face. Noone had spoken to Aegon like that before, especially someone who was classed as a commoner. And yet...he liked it. Everyone had to call him your grace, they didn't have a choice. And yet, hear you were, a strong willed and independent woman giving HIM rules if he wants to have you work with him. Aemond turned and looked up at his brother.

"I like her, brother"

Aegon laughs.

"As-as do I brother! Ahaha! Oh my! Ahh. You humor me my-oh, what is your name?"

"Y/N"

"Y/N? It's a lovely name......Alright! I'm going to hear you out! By the gods this is a real first! What is it you wish to discuss?"

"I arrived in Kings Landing today, to a member of the Kings Guard trying to cut the hand off someone who attempted to steal an apple"

"Yes? And? That is the penalty for thieves"

"It was a child. No more than 6 years of age. Tell me, how do you allow and justify that?"

Both you and Aemond look up to Aegon, who's face went pale.

"Wait what? Of course that's not the penalty for children"

"Well, according to the guard whom I brought down, a thief is a thief, no matter the age"

Now Aegon was annoyed, he knew about the penalty, but he didn't know about the ages it was allowed on.

"Is what you speak true? That truly, a member of MY Kings Guard tried to cut off the hand of a little boy?!"

"Tried and failed, I wouldn't allow him to do it. The poor boy was starving and simply trying to feed his family. Despite the guard knowing that, he cared not one bit"

"Ok.....do you think you could identify this guard if I were to bring them all forward?"

"Yes, I could"

"Well then, it would seem Y/N...we have reached an agreement. I shall deal with this guard who thought it appropriate to do that, and I shall change the penalty for thieves. Not allowing any harm to come to children. Once that is done, I shall request an audience with you when the guards arrive, I trust through this agreement you shall now work as my guard?"

"If I know my roles and responsibilities, yes"

"I'll allow my brother to fill in the details as I go and summon the Kings Guard. Take her to the council table would you Aemond?"

"Yes your grace"

And just like that, Aegon left the room, where it was now just you and Aemond.

"Come, I shall show you the way"

Now, instead of Aemond walking behind you, you both walk side by side as he took you through the castle. It was enormous, rooms upon rooms, studies, private wings, and much more. He threw open these large doors to a small set of steps, leading to the large rectangular council table. Noone was there for a meeting, so it was just you and Aemond, who was still a complete enigma to you. What was his deal? Why so quiet? And as someone who should be looking out for his brother, shouldn't he take more care in agreeing upon a person to guard his brother? Rather than just agree straight away? He must see a use for you hear, but what was it? He took a seat at the table, as did you.

"Hm...it seems my brother is firm on his decision to have you hear in the castle. Tell me...Y/N...what brought you to Kings Landing?"

"I was under the impression you were told by your brother to bring me hear and discuss my new responsibilities. Some might say your shunning your duties"

There's that little smirk again.

"Hm...I knew there was something about you...the moment I witnessed you walk into the arena, I knew something was about to change"

"Is that right? I'm surprised you could see much of me from so high up in the castle turret"

"I may have been up high, and only have one eye...but I see things my brother clearly doesn't"

"Do you? And what would they be?"

"I see...I see someone who was raised to be strong and independent, something extremely rare these days. Despite commoners thinking otherwise, even royal ladies don't have as much knowledge or skills as you do"

"So you observed my fighting skills? That's what you see of me?"

"I see a woman who has the strength to take on an army...one who won't let anyone stand in her way, no matter the cost...and that was made abundantly clear by the way you spoke to my brother. You know, not even his closest subjects use his name, I myself refer to him as your grace in his presence. But you...hmm...tell me...how were you raised to be this way?"

"Maybe if you ask nicely..."

Smiling at you, you can tell he's loving this interaction with you. To be honest, it's probably the most someone has spoken to him without it being a royal duty.

"...Please...I wish to know your story"

"It's not much of a story. My mother died giving birth to me. I never knew my father, so yes, I'm a bastard. I was raised by my grandmother and taught that nothing should stand in my way, and I shouldn't let innocents of the world suffer when I have a chance to change that"

"So you see yourself as a saviour?"

"No. More like someone who will help the little man if the ones in charge aren't doing that for them. Being a saviour is far different then just being a helpful person"

"And that's how you ended up hear and infront of my brother? Helping the people of Kings Landing"

"It would appear someone's got to do it"

"Hmm...I like your attitude...it intrigues me"

"IT intrigues you?....or me?..."

"Hmm..."

He stands and walks towards the window, looking out to the city below with his hands crossed behind his back.

"Your duties as The Kings personal guard will be to protect The King, The Queen and heir to the throne"

"Heir? As in I'm only to protect one child?"

"I'm afraid there's only one to protect at this time. (Sits back down with you) Are you aware of the assassination upon the heir to the throne? Prince Jaehaerys"

"No? Someone killed a child?!"

"Unfortunately it's true. The perpetrators have been dealt with, and the main culprit who organised it shall pay too. But I'm afraid there is only one child and one baby whome will require your protection, Princess Jaehaera and the young baby Maelor. However, being the personal guard along side Criston means you will be summoned when you are needed, meaning you have free reign about the castle and city before you are"

"So Aegon will summon me when he wants me around? Is that it?"

"Yes, and it could be to stand in the corner when he's in council, or on a trip out of the castle and into the city. You will be paid handsomely in coin and given a room with a securely safe door"

"And when he is not in need of me?"

"You can do as you wish"

"Alright...so I'm not in need now, so I could have a look around the castle if I wanted?"

"You may, or if you'd like I can give you a tour? Saves the possibility of you getting lost"

"This is surprisingly generous of you"

"Which is rare...I don't make a habit of it"

Nodding your head, you think there's no harm in it.

"Alright, I shall take a tour with you, seeing as your being such a gentleman by offering"

"Hmm (mutters under his breath) [This woman seriously thinks I'm a gentleman?]"

Oooh! Now this was going to be fun. Little does he know you have a world of knowledge, including mastering many languages

"[You know, you really shouldn't speak another language under your breath when someone else is in the room. Some might see it as inappropriate...]"

"You...how are you able to speak in high valyrian?"

"I have many skills you haven't seen yet. Learning to master languages across the lands was one of the many things I desired to learn..."

"Ah...I see...[And you can speak high valyrian...just a little?]"

"[Oh no...fluently...]"

"[I say...you truly are growing more and more unique the more we speak...did it take you long to learn the language?]"

"[Not long at all. When it comes to mastery of the tounge, I excel at that and much more...]"

"[I don't doubt that...]"

The conversation is interrupted by the doors swinging open, revealing two soldiers accompanying Aegon.

"Ah! Aemond and Y/N! You both seem happy. I trust my brother has been pleasant company?"

"Yes...very pleasant"

You say, giving Aemond a little smile. The corner of his mouth also shows he feels the same.

"Wonderful! Now Y/N, if you'd like to come with me. I am in need of you"

"Lead the way"

You follow Aegon along side Aemond through the halls of the castle, and back onto the very turret where the Targaryen's and Hightowers were watching you and Criston earlier. Leaning to look over the edge, you see many men all in neat lines, waiting patiently and standing to order.

"Now Y/N, you told me today that one of my Kings Guard had tried to harm a little boy. Is that correct?"

"Yes"

"Good. Now if you look down at all these men, these are all the members of the Kings Guard. I would like you to point out the one whome you witnessed doing this to the boy today"

You take a good look at all the men down in the arena, surprisingly most of them were very similar. But you'd remember this man anywhere. He had very distinguishing features, and there he was right in the middle. Short fluffy blonde hair, short blonde moustache, a scar underneath his left eye and the same red pin on his wrist.

"It's the one in the middle, with the short blonde hair"

"With the red pin and moustache?"

"Yes that's him, without a doubt"

Aegon whispered into the ear of a man who stood beside him, you and Aemond. Then he slipped away and down to the arena.

"Thank you Y/N, now I know who was responsible for this, I can punish him for what he did"

"What is the punishment for trying to do that to a child?"

"I'm not sure, I'll see what I feel like doing when he's in the throne room and at my mercy"

You glance to the side and see two men escort the blonde haired guard into the castle, allowing the other Kings Guard to leave and go about their day.

"Come Y/N! I'd like for you to witness what I'll do with the bastard"

As Aegon starts walking towards the door, Aemond pulls you back slightly by taking your wrist, clearly wanting a word with you in private.

"Is something wrong?"

"No...but I wish to speak with you tonight. If I have your permission to be in your company in your chambers?"

"Ok"

"Thank you"

Once you both had spoken, Aegon leads you both back to the throne room, where upon Aegon sits on the iron throne and watches as the Kings Guard is brought in and made to kneel on both knees before The King.

"Ah Sir Harris! It is Harris right?"

"Yes your grace"

"Wonderful! Now, I have a rather important issue we need to discuss...and you are going to speak the truth to me, are you not?"

"Of course your grace"

".....Today...in the market....did you happen upon a thief?"

"I...I did your grace"

"Ok....what did they steal? And how did you punish them?"

"I uh...they stole an apple your grace. And I was going to give the punishment that was meant for anyone who stole"

"I see...tell me Sir Harris...was the man who stole this apple, a very large man?"

"Your grace?"

"The man who stole? Was he large? Looming? A dangerous figure whome scared the people of the market?"

"I, I think so-"

"Hhsss! Oh dear Sir Harris.....My my, what an impressive bruise you have on your jaw there. Was that from the thief too? Did he put up a good fight?"

"I-uh-uh-yes your grace"

"..........Do you remember what I told you when you entered hear Sir Harris?.....Hmm?....I asked you if you were going to speak the truth, did I not?"

"You-you did-"

"Then WHY!....Are you lying to me? This 'man' whome was supposed to be a thief, was no man....but a child! Wasn't he? Wasn't he?!"

"He-yes, yes he was your grace"

"Why the fuck would you try and cut off the hand of a little boy?! Grown men and women who steal will face a penalty, NOT CHILDREN! What the fuck is the matter with you, that makes you think you can do that?!"

"But-but I thought it was the same for all ages. Anyone who steals-and-and I didn't actually cut off his hand your grace"

"Oh I know! Because this young woman stopped you didn't she?"

Aegon says, pointing to you and Aemond stood in the corner, unbeknown to Harris who hadn't seen you when he entered.

"Wait-what is she doing-"

"She is hear at my request! It would appear a woman whome I've only met today has been more honest and truthful to me, than a member of my own guard!"

"Your grace, that woman is a vile-"

"If you speak one word out of line about this woman, I shall remove your tounge!....So....not only have you lied to my face, but deem it appropriate to verbally attack the same woman who stopped you harming a little boy-"

"The whore doesn't belong hear-! Oh! By the gods I-I didn't mean-"

"I've heard enough....You shall be taken to the dungeons, stripped of your armour and cloak, as you are no longer a member of the Kings Guard. Oh, and did I hear you call her a whore? When I told you NOT to speak one word out of line about her?"

"Your grace-I humbly apologise! Please allow me to make amends-"

"Sir Criston?"

Aegon asks as Criston enters the room.

"Yes your grace"

"Take Sir Harris down to the dungeons. Strip him of his armour and cloak....and it would please me if you take his tounge too"

"Y.....yes your grace"

Criston looked frightened for Harris, but he had to obey the orders of The King. Harris on the other hand, who was now being dragged away kicking and screaming, was far more terrified about his fate, unknowing if he will even survive his ordeal.

Once he was taken away, Aegon approached you, with a little smile on his face.

"In case you thought his punishment was harsh, worry not. It would appear Harris has a reputation for being cruel to the people of Kings Landing. Only last week he was seen by someone, harming a young woman and her sister, and being cruel to anyone he deemed lower than himself. You've done me and the people a great service knocking him down a peg, and telling me about his continuous problems. I am not in need of you right now, you may go about the castle as you see fit, but first, Aemond. Would you be kind enough to show Y/N her new living quarters? It's grown dark and she must be feeling tired"

"Yes your grace"

"Good. I shall see you both at day break"

Aemond walked you out of the throne room and a long way through the castle halls, to a long corridor. He swung the door open to reveal a small living quarters. A table laden with fruits and wine, a window overlooking the city that lead to a balcony, a bathing room to the side, and behind another door, the bedroom. With a rather large bed, covered in fine silks, soft sheets and pillows.

"I trust this is adequate for you?"

"More than adequate. I've not slept in a bed this large before, it will certainly make for a good sleep"

"Hmm...if I may bring up what I asked you earlier, I wish to speak with you tonight, hear, in your chambers. Is that something you still wish to happen?"

"If you still want to talk to me, yes. If you give me 1 hour, I shall be ready for company"

"Very well...I will return shortly"

And just like that, with a turn and a whip of his white hair, he leaves your chambers, allowing you to lock it and have some privacy. It didn't take long for you to settle in, infact, you very much enjoyed the space. You were a traveller, going from place to place, sleeping in tavers, on floors and spare beds in random places. Now you have your own space to call your own for as long as you wished, it felt nice, almost homely. It kind of reminded you of your chambers you had back with your grandmother, upstairs from the brothal. Despite what some might think, it was actually quite comfortable, and you barely heard the men and women downstairs. About an hour later, you had eaten and drank, and were sat to the table with the window open to the night sky, book of Targaryen history in your hands. That's when a knock came at the door. You stand to open it, and see Aemond once again, waiting to be allowed in

"May I come in?"

"You may"

He comes inside to see where you were previously sat, reading a book on Targaryen history.

"I see you have a fondness to learn about the royal bloodline"

"Not necessarily (you sit to the table, followed by Aemond) it was one of the first books that jumped out to me when I was looking over the bookcase"

"I've read the very same book you have before you, many years ago"

"But, I'm guessing you had to read it as part of your role as Prince?"

"While that is correct, it was actually by my own choice. I may be the youngest brother, but I was the one who took interest in our families history, learning how to fight and how to speak correctly at court"

"Are you implying that your brother doesn't take his role as King seriously?"

"He does not care for the throne. I'm quite suprised I don't see him sneek off to the brothal every evening"

"This....is interesting"

"What is?"

"That you've known me for what? A day at most? And yet you sit hear with me, a commoner and discuss issues you have with your own blood. Either your dangerously trustworthy to people too soon, or your trying to see if I would do anything to your brother or anyone else with Targaryen blood whome resides in Kings Landing"

"While those are two very clever guesses, I'm afraid neither are correct"

"Or so you say"

"Hmm...I speak to you tonight, and about my brother for a reason Y/N"

"And what would that be Aemond?"

"........It's my mother"

"Your mother? Lady Alicent Hightower? What could you possibly want to discuss with me about your mother?"

"Not quite a discussion, more of a warning"

"Are you suggesting I should be fearful of your mother?"

"In a sence..."

He stands and walks to your open window, hands behind his back, then faces you.

"As you are aware and have seen yourself, women hear in Kings Landing are not quite seen as people. Many women are used to create heirs, strengthen bloodlines or....gain power. The only woman I know whose had a taste of such power was my mother. She took on responsibilities while my father was dying, and believe it went to hear head. She herself shunned Princess Rhaenyra when she tried to claim the throne and now I fear she may want to corrupt my brother to control him, taking any power she can"

"So what's that got to do with me?"

"She was not best pleased when she witnessed you in the arena. She saw what she couldn't be, what she isn't strong enough to be. A woman with freedom, who speaks her mind, damned the consequences. And the fact that my brother has shown a fondness too you, will definitely burn her from the inside"

"Not to mention that her other son likes to take private moments with me in the dead of night"

"...Hmm...My mother does not control me, no matter how hard she tries. If I wish to speak to a lovely woman in my own time then I shall..."

"Lovely woman?"

"Hmm...would you not agree?"

"I'm just a little suprised that, after seeing me literally fight a man, speak to your brother like he was no more than a boy on a chair, and not bat an eye when a guard was told he would have his tounge removed....why you would use the word lovely to describe me is most peculiar"

"I live with women all around me, whome have never defended or stood up for themselves in their lives. They roll over like dogs. But you....you fascinate me....I've met no other woman like you...[Case in point that you have more knowledge about high valyrian than my own brother does]"

He says, sitting back down to the table infront of you.

"[I like to train my brain like it were a weapon. Just as I have mastered many blades over the years]"

"[Including your tounge?]"

"[You think of my tounge as a blade?]"

"[It's as sharp as any other...]"

Was he complementing you? It certainly seemed like it, and with that look...you couldn't deny it was rather attractive.

"You must be tired from your long day Y/N, I shall leave you to rest now (stands up from chair) I hope you have a pleasant evening....and I will enjoy waiting for our next interaction..."

He slowly walks back to the door, pulls one handle back when you speak to him.

"Enjoy waiting for me Aemond? You know...with the way you have spoken and looked at me this evening, one might think you were being almost...playful...teasing even...a woman could get the wrong impression if your not careful"

"Or maybe this woman has guessed correctly of my possible interest?..."

There's that little smirk of his....yes he was! He was actually flirting with you, wasn't he?

"Have a pleasant sleep...Y/N..."

He said in a smooth tone, closing the door behind him. Wow! That was one hell of a day! Arriving in Kings Landing to an absolute asshole trying to hurt a little boy, helping out a poor family, fighting and winning against The Commander of the Kings Guard, having The King take a liking to you, being offered a job in the castle, having your own space and.....and Aemond...what was it about him? And why would he be so easy to talk to, considering how hard faced he is towards most of the people he sees. You had heard about him growing up, and about how he lost his eye, yet he gained the largest known dragon in the lands. Your grandmother knew a lot about the Targaryen history considering she neither lived or knew anyone there...as far as you were aware. And there was something else that was bugging you too, why did Aegon think you have a little Targaryen in you? You've had people say this to you before when you were little, with the white streak and the one violet eye...but now The King saw this...you actually started to doubt yourself and your history for a moment. Your grandmother never told you where she was from, and she had white hair, quite like the Targaryen's. Was she?...No, no, today was just too long for you and you clearly needed to rest. This must have just been your brain getting all worked up over nothing. So you wash up, and get snuggled up into bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. With the last thought in your mind being Aemond....and what could future interactions with him lead too?

The next few days went quite quickly, you took to your role as The Kings personal guard very seriously, and did accompany Aegon when he wished for your presence. To be honest, he didn't actually need you a lot of the time, which gave you ample opportunities to explore the castle and grounds, to the city, and even visit the family you met on your first day hear. The mother was doing well and was already back on her feet, just taking it easy. Her son and daughter were very sweet and drew you a picture to say thank you for your generosity, it was so kind of them, and you told them you would treasure it. The more the days passed, the more you learned about The King, his subjects and the issues with the war, and you couldn't deny you were a little on the fence about it all. At times when you find yourself on your own, alone with your thoughts, one person would come and keep you company, Aemond. It was as if he was watching you, because any time you felt lost or alone, he was always near by. Your conversations were still very similar to the night he came to your chambers, accept a little more amorous. He was definitely growing more confident around you, and you him, but you couldn't help but feel there was something about him you couldn't figure out. He was so mysterious. You found yourself growing very fond of him, maybe even like him. One evening, you were sat on the balcony of the main castle wing, reading a book with a glass of wine, when all of a sudden the doors of the main hall swing open as Aegon and a few of his friends all laugh and stumble in, completely drunk. Aegon laughed right before he saw you sitting quietly.

"Aha! Y/N! What ever are you doing reading a book? Come! Drink with us!"

"Are you drunk?"

"Pfftt! Am I drunk?! Well (hickup) of course! I'm having fun with my friends! Will you join us?!"

"While that's kind, I'll pass"

"Oh come on! Your such a sourpuss! Just like my brother. He REALLY wasn't happy when I saw him tonight. You know-you know he was SO embarrassed when I saw him tonight, all curled up like a little kitten!"

"Uh? What?"

"Oh! Did I not say? We (hickup) we found Aemond in the brothal! Curled up with the whore he lost his virginity too! What a wimp! Aemond The Fierce! Haha!"

"W-wait what?! You just walked in on him? Why?"

"Why not?! I was after a whore and found Aemond! I couldn't help but laugh at him! He was so vulnerable! I asked him-I-I-asked him, if he fucked her like a hound! Oh he's so ridiculous"

"Are you...are you serious right now? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Wh-what?"

"How could you be so spiteful and cruel to your own little brother?! He's been loyal to you and you treat him like that?"

"He's MY brother, I can speak to him any way I wish"

"Wow...you really are a cunt aren't you?"

His friends, who were equally drunk were shocked, and gasped at what you said.

"You-what did you call me?"

"A CuNT! You deserve to be called one with how you behave, and to your own brother no less! Your horrible Aegon. And I'd rather spend my time in the presence of a real man, not some overgrown boy wearing a metal hat that's CLEARLY too big for him!"

"Hey-w-wait! Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but in your presence!"

And that was the last thing you said before storming out of the hall and slamming the door behind you. You did not care one bit that you called The King a cunt, he deserved it! How could he do this to Aem-! Oh my god, Aemond! He must be feeling so upset about what happened tonight, should you go to him?

Link to part 2

[head---ache]

hello im going to talk about my non fankid oc's because i feel like i talk too much about my children (sorry) and too little about my other characters and i know probably no one cares but fuck you/lh im going to force you to care/j

Tools the Chinchilla (she/they) is the oldest character in the group! (Ironically age wise they're the youngest, being 14). They're an anti hero, of sorts?? But I think a better way to describe her is just a silly chinchilla doing her own thing, not caring about anyone else. They really just care about what they have going on and are going to do whatever they need to get things done. She does not care about relationships at all, and only tries to get closer to someone if it benefits her. They're a investigator/scientist, mostly studying about chaos, so you can guess how that leads her to follow the main cast around, trying to act all friendly to get info out of them (but everyone knows she doesn't actually like them because she's really bad at acting). She also has a very big ego, and constantly compares herself to characters like Tails of Eggman, pushing them both down although she's not really an inventor, unless she needs something specific.

Prince the Peacock (he/him) is my boy!!! I love his concept. He has hypnotic powers thanks to his feathers, and he also cares a lot about his looks. He's very sophisticated, but also very high energy and friendly (he can be a little too much, in fact). He's also a bit naive, but that's mostly because he usually sees the best in people, and believes anyone can be good if he's just nice enough. He sees himself and Tools as best friends, even though she can't stand him, he just thinks they're shy. He's a little bit too scared of everything, but after being saved by the Resistance during the war he feels like he needs to do his part, so he's actually quite brave and very usually pushes himself out of his comfort zone.

Ferocity the Spider (she/her) seems to be somewhat of a fan favorite, and I think that might be thanks to her goth lolita fashion and the fact that she's a spider, definitely not something seen in the Sonic franchise. She's a full on villain, and is que agressive. She has all of the abilities spiders commonly have, but I can't get more specific than that. I'm way too scared of spiders and could only use drawings as reference for her design, so I didn't actually take the time to decide what kind of spider she is bskdbskfnskx She has every move calculated, and takes everything into account, she's very careful and methodic, but, like I said, when she needs to, she can get very agressive and scary. She's also very closed off and untrustful, so while she does have someone she works with (more on that later), she usually prefers to do things herself, just to make sure.

Joy the Horse (she/her) is a total sweetie. She's very shy and quiet, but has the biggest heart ever. She's a baker!!! And has her own bakery:) she sometimes brings some of her baked goods to Restoration HQ because some of her friends are there. She's softspoken and kind, but don't look down on her! She can kick you over the next city if she needs to>:) usually in defense, not in offense. She doesn't fight often, but if her or someone she cares about is involved she goes all out trying to help. Also Joy is the only one Tools tries to be friends with, but that's because they want free food. Joy knows this, and yet she still pretends she doesn't see when the chinchilla sneaks a cookie into their pocket.

Torch the Angler Fish (they/them) is Ferocity's right hand!!! Mostly just the dumb henchman in cartoons. They're way too energetic and impulsive, which is why Ferocity usually has to hold them down. They normally do the dirty work; if they need to fight, Torch will do it while Ferocity watches from the shadows and only interferes if needed. Torch, of course, has a little light that can lure people closer to them, and they often hide in the shadows, to then attack by surprise. They enjoy scaring people, they're a bit of an asshole lol. I said Ferocity is agressive, and yet, Torch is the most agressive of the two, which makes them a bit more scary.

Index the Secretary Bird (she/her) is a cute girly who works for the Restoration as, you guessed it, a secretary. I imagine she was friends with Jewel, and when she saw how much work the beetle had, she decided to step in and help. She's also very methodic, and strict. She actually was a librarian before she joined the Restoration, so you can be sure she has outstanding organization skills. She's a bit unexpressive, and distant, but definitely not mean, and if you manage to get close to her you'll have a friend who will give you the best advice and will listen to you with all of her attention!! She also has some knowledge in first aids, so when needed she also helps in that area.

And yeah that's that the fankids get too much attention so these guys also needed a post dedicated to talking about them tehee

[nightingale2004]

Harry Potter next gen: Dudley Dursley vers.

Hazel Fern Dursley

Faceclaim: Isabella Sermon

Hazel is the daughter of Dudley and Eleonor Dursley. She is also their second child

Hazel has an older sister named Heather Petunia Dursley and a kid sister named Daisy Poppy Dursley

Looks more like her mom with a mix of her dad

Before Hazel and her sisters were born, Dudley and Harry reconnected after the war at Hogwarts, where they, over the years, got a bit closer, and they even attended each other's weddings

Dudley also got to meet the Weasley clan briefly

When Hazel first started showing signs that she was magic, it was at the age of 6, and she started making things float, come alive, and/or explode out of nowhere

Dudley had an idea of what was happening and invited Harry into his home, where he confirmed Dudley's suspicions that Hazel was, in fact a witch

Eleanor was more surprised than Dudley. She knew some of Dudley's family history along with some of Harry's and knew that Lily was a witch and she was a muggle, but both Eleanor and Dudley thought Hazel would be pure muggle

Harry explained everything and tried his best to give as much information about the Wizarding world as he could, along with information about Hogwarts to help them be prepared for what happens when Hazel reaches the age of 11 without overwhelming them completely

Harry also tried to keep his adventures in Hogwarts to himself since he didn't want to worry his cousin and his wife more than they already were and he would assure them that his children, nieces, nephews, and Teddy would watch over her so she wouldn't be alone

Dudley and his wife Eleonor took in the information the best they could, but it wasn't easy.

They were extremely worried about Hazel entering a new world that they had no experience in and were secretly dreading the day the letter for Hogwarts would come

When the letter did come, Harry personally delivered it. Hazel was extremely nervous, while her parents tried their best to smile and support her, but they were just as nervous as their daughter was (and it showed)

Before Hazel went to Hogwarts, her mom made her promise to keep them updated weekly with bumches of letters telling them everything, and her dad was just praying that Hazel would fit in and make friends

After Hazel went into Hogwarts, she was sorted into Hufflepuff

Before Hogwarts, Hazel felt very close to her parents and sisters, but after she started at Hogwarts, she started feeling estranged from her own family

Hazel considered her and her big sister Heather as thick as thieves, but after Hogwarts, they started drifting apart, and Hazel even heard Heather talk bad about her with her muggle friends saying how she went to a school for "special" kids

Hazel even noticed that when she would come home for break and she would show what she learned, her parents would be uncomfortable and even startled to the point where she stopped talking to them about Hogwarts or anything witchcraft related

The only person in her family who would want to see her magic would be Daisy, her kid sister

But that didn't help Hazel's feelings of insecurities and indifference

Hazel even got depressed to the point where she would spend more time with her cousins than with her parents or sisters. She would even stay over for a few days.

She also started hating being a witch and wished every day that she was normal so that her family wouldn't see her as a freak

This went on for almost 2 years until Harry, Hermione, and Petunia came in and fixed things (yes, Petunia is still alive. Rip to Vernon)

Harry and Hermione talked some sense into Dursley, and Petunia talked some sense into Heather

When Petunia got news, one of her granddaughters was a witch, shocked would have been an understatement of how she felt. But after some time, she learned that she never loved her granddaughter Hazel any less

When Petunia saw what was happening between Heather and Hazel, it reminded her of herself and Lily, and that relationship was the last thing she wanted for her granddaughters, so she decided to fix it (and it worked)

Little by little, Hazel and her family started settling into a new rhythm. She slowly tells them everything that's been going on at Hogwarts that she didn't say

Hazel and Heather have grown a new and strong sister bond along with Daisy

The Dursley's even started visiting Harry and getting to know more of the Wotter clan

Hazel has become extremely close with James, Teddy, Lily, Albus, Freddie, and Victoire

Hazel has also developed a love for herbology, potions, history of magic, charms, DADA, transfiguration, care for magical creatures, and divination

Her patronus is a Panda

Hazel is also very close with her uncle Harry and Hermione

There are still times when she still feels insecure and scared because she also knows about her uncle Harry's childhood living with the Dursley's, but her whole families support is enough to keep the bad thoughts at bay

Hermione and Eleonor are working together to start up homes for muggle witches and wizards who don't have a good home life, were kicked out or no home at all since not every muggle wizard or witch is as fortunate

[violet-moonstone]

wanted to share the beginning of the next chapter of the wings of war because i really like this part

The dream was beautiful. And for a few lovely, foolish moments, Gobber thought it was real.

He was back in the good old days—back when Stoick was alive and less grouchy; Valka hadn’t gone missing yet; Smulder was around more; Freda was more free-spirited; and Spitelout was less of an arse. Slightly. Gobber couldn’t quite put his finger on what the six of them were doing in the dream: Sailing? Feasting and singing? Going on an adventure? Perhaps any and all of them. Whatever it was, there was lots of laughter and loving smiles. The experience was coated in warm light and a sense of being entirely care-free that often only comes with the arrogance of youth or the nonchalance of very old age. It was this ambiguity that eventually led him to realize that he was dreaming.

Where? He thought wistfully in the back of his mind. Where have the years gone? Or maybe he’d said the words aloud in the dream, because Stoick turned to him, and his wide smile and crinkling eyes melted away into the expression of hardened weariness he’d constantly worn for the first fifteen years of his son’s life. He said something Gobber didn’t understand.

“Huh?” Gobber asked. He learned in closer, and Stoick spoke again, this time with a sharp, clear voice that wasn’t his own.“Gobber!” His friend said, in a familiar voice. “Wake up!”

Gobber nearly fell from his stool as he startled awake. 

“Ah!” The blacksmith blurted out, embarrassed. “Ah yes—yes, where was I? The ah…the Boneknapper and…and the mercenary, yes!” He cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat, trying to remember where he’d left off in his tale. But as he got a better sense of his surroundings, his embarrassment turned into absolute mortification.

Standing around him were Astrid, Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Ruffnut.

Their children were nowhere to be seen. 

“Gobber, what the Hel?” This time, when the chieftainess spoke, there could be no mistaking that it was her. Beneath the fury on her face was fear bubbling up beneath the surface. 

Fishlegs wrung his hands. “Uh…Gobber?” He asked, his voice winding up the way it did when he was anxious. “Where…where are the kids?”

Gobber’s mind raced as his grogginess left him hard and fast—like being splashed with cold water after a night of drinking. Perhaps they snuck off to see other friends? To go adventuring in the woods with their dragons? But Gobber knew deep down that these were nothing more than desperate attempts to avoid facing the unavoidable reality that was clearly before them.

“They’re fucking gone,” Ruffnut answered her husband, seething as she paced. “Those muttonheads, I swear to Odin—”

Hiccup’s reaction was the worst of all. His shoulders went slack and he looked at his former mentor with an expression that made Gobber’s heart break. He swallowed with difficulty before running a hand through his hair. “Gobber, I—all we needed—all we asked you to do was watch them—”

Finally, Gobber found his voice. “I-I know, Hiccup I’m so sorry—”

Hiccup gestured around helplessly. “A-And now of all times for them to—for you to—” The chieftain sighed, his breaths shaking. He ran a hand over his face. “Okay,” he said quietly, partially to himself. “Okay, we can’t panic, w-we just need to think…”

“Whatever you need,” Gobber pledged, pulling himself out of his seat. “Here, I’ll go saddle up Grump and—”

“No,” Astrid said, arms crossed. “Gobber just—just stay here.”

“But..I-I can help—”

“You’ve helped enough,” the chieftainess said through her teeth. “It won't help the search party if you get tired again and fall off your dragon.”

“Astrid,” Fishlegs chided softly.

“What?” She demanded. 

Fishlegs hesitated before continuing. “Being cruel isn’t going to help anything.”

She scoffed and shook her head, incredulous. “I’m being cruel?”

“Yes.”

“Well you know what else isn’t going to help? Standing around worrying about his hurt feelings—” Gobber flinched when Astrid pointed at him. “—when our kids could be in danger!"