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flowerandblood · 3 months ago

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The Price of Pride (6/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mutual masturbation, infidelity, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Never before had the wooden ceiling of a bed seemed so interesting to her.

The Maester was trying to be gentle and his touch was respectful – she knew that, but still what he was doing, the fact that there were other people around behind the cream curtains made her tense, even though she knew the verdict would be one.

When the examination was finally completed she sighed quietly and swallowed hard, rising on her elbow – she lowered her skirt down thinking she wouldn't give them the satisfaction and cry – Maester's voice and what he said was like honey to her ears.

"She is a maiden, My King. I have no doubt."

A moment later, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing with a loud slam.

Prince Aemond gave everyone an expression of his fury at this obviously unfounded accusation.

She took a quiet breath as someone pulled aside one of the veils – the king's face seemed satisfied, as if not the end result but the fact that he had once again shown his brother who had the last word was his reward.

"I am relieved, dear cousin, that you have come to no harm under my brother's care. I hope you understand that in no way did I mean to offend you or undermine your virtue." He said lightly, knowing that she could not reply anything other than to confirm his certainly sincere and good intentions.

"I am grateful to you for your concern, Your Grace." She replied, looking him straight in the eye, to her surprise feeling neither bitterness nor regret.

This would at least cut off any further gossip about her and the tongue of the servant who had given her pleasure that day, as promised by the prince.

She guessed he would not leave it at that.

"I wish to see your dragon and judge for myself the value he will bring to the upcoming battles. I also want him to stay in the Dragon's Pit with the rest of the dragons and not with Vhagar." He said, and she nodded, knowing that there was no point in standing up.

This brother or another, what difference did it make.

"He is still wild and untamed, my King. Accustomed to freedom. I fear that sudden confinement may kill his spirit." She replied softly.

Aegon nodded.

"I may yet change my decision. For now, I want to see him."

In accordance with his desire, he, she and a retinue consisting of several members of the Kingsguard, including Ser Criston Cole, set off on horseback to Vhagar's lair where the two dragons rested.

When they arrived, she felt joy, or rather a new kind of it, one she had experienced for the first time when she saw Sheepstealer.

Her dragon squawked happily at the sight of her, coming quickly up to her on his paws, watching her from all sides, intrigued, paying no attention to the other newcomers.

He was as sweet as a baby, she thought with tenderness, lonely for long years, craving tenderness, understanding and attention as much as she did.

He was everything she was, which is why the moment she first looked into his eyes she knew she would succeed in taming him.

She knew what he needed and she was able to give it to him, and he reciprocated.

Her dragon was the only man she needed.

"Magnificent. Fierce. And large indeed. Bigger than Sunfyre. Very well." Exclaimed the King with a smile, clearly pleased and reassured.

When his brother was not next to him he felt in control of the situation again.

She stroked the muzzle of her dragon, for some reason also smiling, its scales under her skin hard and rough.

"We are at your service, my King." She replied, wanting to be sure they would leave her alone.

She just wanted to be close to her dragon, nothing more.

"Good. You and my brother will take turns patrolling the sky daily. This will relieve the burden on Vhagar and allow the prince to attend to other, equally important matters." He said, and she nodded.

"Present our subjects with our new dragon. Show them that we are stronger than ever." He commanded, and she held back the smile of amusement that pressed across her face.

Is that so?

Outside? Maybe.

But inside, they were one rotten fruit.

"My King."

Flying over King's Landing was a kind of liberation for her – she felt she was showing not only the world what she had become, but more importantly her father.

She hoped, feeling the wind in her hair, whirling on the Sheepstealer in the skies with laughter, that Daemon was throwing his cups in Dragonstone out of rage, cursing the day she was born.

Although she hated her heritage and her name, it was the dragon that saved her and gave her life meaning.

It felt like they understood each other without words, that one move of hers was enough to make him change his flight course to where she wanted or dive down.

Once they landed, she always spent a bit of time with him, lying on the grass beside him, stroking his muzzle – she wanted him to know that he wasn't just her tool that she used.

No.

She felt something completely different that filled her heart wonderfully.

Love.

Looking out of the corner of her eye at Vhagar lying in the distance, plunged into a deep sleep, completely ignoring them, she wondered if these were the feelings that Prince Aemond had for his dragoness.

You should fall to your knees before her, you fucking whore, not laugh.

This was not an expression of his pride then.

It was an expression of his deep affection for her.

She smiled at this thought, recognising that at last she understood him.

Her expression was gentle and contented when, walking down the corridor of the Red Keep with a guard who did not leave her side, she came across him, apparently heading for Vhagar's liege.

"Where have you been?" He asked disturbed, seeing her riding attire.

She sighed quietly, pulling her black leather gloves from her hands.

"The King ordered that we take turns patrolling the skies. I have done that duty today. You may rest." She said, and he swallowed hard, something expression in his face as if he felt discomfort.

Another thing he was taking away from him, she thought.

"Leave us." He directed his cold words to the guard. He nodded and walked away with the quiet clang of his steel armour.

The prince moved away towards the cloisters, and she moved with him.

He didn't want anyone to hear their conversation.

"What did you say to him?" He asked, looking sideways, as if he couldn't bear to see her.

"To whom?"

"To my brother. Did you betray me?" He asked coldly, throwing her a drawn-out, stern look.

She sighed heavily and shook her head, closing her eyes, tired after the physical exertion, not having the strength for his baseless accusations.

"How?" She asked, his jaw clenched, his body upright and tense.

"Don't play a fucking fool. You know perfectly well what I'm referring to."

She laughed at his words, shrugging her shoulders, bringing him to the brink of fury.

She could see it in his wide-open eye, in his feral, furious gaze.

"I know, but I haven't told him anything and I won't. It's not in my nature to complicate a situation where I'm comfortable. Being your enemy is not my desire. The lack of your unity drastically reduces my chances of survival, and having tamed the dragon, its value in my eyes has increased greatly." She said lightly, looking him straight in the eye, seeing that his hands entwined behind his back were clenched into fists.

He hated it when she spoke to him like that, but he couldn't do anything to her in public.

"I also wish for you to continue to teach me the language of Old Valyria. In return, I will report to you on what I am asked and what the King tells me to soothe your troubled soul." She hummed with a smile, watching with satisfaction as he drew in a loud breath and licked his lower lip, apparently trying not to use his hands on her long neck.

"Do we have an agreement, my Prince?" She asked, cocking her head.

He sighed, glancing sideways, and shook his head, clearly not believing that he had consented to such humiliation.

"In the library. Every day, right after supper."

She learned of Lady Floris Baratheon's arrival in the Red Keep from her maid – braiding some of her hair at the back of her head, she told her of what she had seen.

"Lady Floris arrived in a brown gown embroidered with gold thread. Her hair is black and long, pinned up in a braid, smoothed down in front, her forehead high, her gaze proud and solemn. Her smile, in my opinion, has no lightness or conviction." Said Lysa, and she giggled under her breath, looking at her and herself in the reflection of the mirror.

"What a harsh judgement. Perhaps it was that smile that the prince found so charming that he chose her." She replied lightly, thinking with amusement that her cousin was surely writhing in agony right now, entertaining his betrothed.

Good, she thought.

Let him suffer.

"Perhaps, however, the memory of that day must spend his sleep." Said Lysa, gracefully weaving one of her strands in with the rest of her hairstyle.

She blinked, intrigued.

"What do you mean?"

Lysa looked at her surprised, as if snapped out of her reverie.

"Don't you know, my Lady? It was on this day that Prince Aemond killed Prince Lucerys. That poor boy. His mother searched for his remains in madness and despair, but apparently there was nothing left of him but his cloak. He was devoured by Vhagar." She explained, and she swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat run down her back.

He says that Luke's death was an accident, but I don't know if I believe him.

I don't recognise him anymore and I warn you that he's unpredictable.

She was sure she would eat her supper as usual in solitude, but it turned out that the King had held a small banquet and she was to attend.

Aegon wanted to show off her dragon and what she had done, while humiliating his brother and his betrothed, she thought wryly, walking there reluctantly.

When the door opened in front of her, she saw a long table, on either side of which sat the royal family and their loyal lords with their relatives.

She did not know where she should sit or what to do, the King, however, decided to take pity on her.

"Ah, here is my dear, fearless cousin. Come here, my Lady, I have assigned you a seat next to my brother. Perhaps your presence will lift his spirits." He called out, and she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze, knowing that she couldn't react to this, that she just had to survive it.

She sat down in the only empty seat, between her cousin and the king's wife, Helaena – she was pale and sad, staring off into the distance somewhere with empty eyes.

She still had not come to terms with the death of her son.

However, as she sank into her grief and sorrow, the King, on the contrary, was bubbling over with a desire for revenge, ready for action.

When she glanced sideways, all she saw was his hand clenched into a fist, his familiar scent reached her nostrils – she swallowed quietly, twisting in her seat, feeling a pleasant pulsing between her thighs, for some reason remembering how pleasant the touch of his fingers was there, sinking into her damp folds.

She reached for her wine cup and took a loud sip from it, not bothering to look to the side, her gaze fixed on the Queen Alicent who sat opposite her.

"My Lady." She heard an unfamiliar female voice directed in her side and she let out a quiet breath, taking another sip from her goblet, hearing her cousin twist restlessly in his chair.

She looked at Floris Baratheon and forced herself to give her the kindest, warmest smile she could afford. Floris was also smiling; had it not been for her gaze, she might have found her expression even sympathetic.

However, her eyebrows arched in some sort of compassion, a sign that she wanted to show her false understanding.

"I congratulate you on taming a dragon. No one expected you to succeed." She said softly, shaking her head as if filled with sincere admiration.

The corner of her mouth twitched, but she managed not to laugh.

"I didn't believe it myself, my Lady. I was convinced that I would burn and become dust." She replied lightly, not taking her eyes off her.

Several people at the table chuckled at her words as Floris watched her for a moment, playing with the small gold ring on her heart finger.

"The gods have spared you. Will you stand to fight your father?" She asked, as if giving her a challenge of sorts.

"Enough." She heard her cousin's impatient voice between them directed at his betrothed.

She, however, found that she was happy to answer her.

"My dragon lacks experience and composure. I will be a mere support for the King and the Prince." She replied, and Floris leaned back, intrigued.

"Support indeed needed." Aegon added, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch. "On which we all agree. Now, music!"

For the rest of the feast, she pretended to be very focused on her piece of roast, which she ate slowly, knowing that she couldn't flee immediately if she didn't want to offend the King – she didn't hold him in special esteem but she knew that he held her in some sort of affection, and after what he had accused her of after his son's death, she feared that one wrong move on her part would be enough for her to fall back into his disfavour.

True, the responsible parties had been found and the King himself had brought them justice, however, she could not let him begin to think again that she had helped her father let them into the keep.

He had to be sure that she was faithful to him.

They both had to be sure of it.

Him and his brother.

She swallowed hard, pulled out of her reverie, feeling a shudder when her cousin's knee pressed against hers. She was sure he simply wanted to change position, he, however, spread himself out comfortably, leaving his leg where it was.

Should she move away?

Do nothing?

What was that supposed to mean?

She glanced sideways at his hand out of the corner of her eye – she could see that his fingers were tapping the tabletop in some nervous, impatient gesture.

Their lessons.

Was he trying to tell her to leave and go to the library before he did, so as not to frustrate his betrothed?

She wanted to ask him that, but couldn't, so she decided she would do what she thought appropriate and simply stood up, nodding her head at the King.

"Your Grace. I will retire now, if you will allow me." She said softly, and Aegon nodded.

"I allow it." He replied, his voice through the amount of wine he had managed to drink like a babble.

Gods help me, she thought as she bowed to him and the Queen Dowager, without bestowing even a single glance on the prince or his betrothed.

She waited in her chamber for half an hour, changing in the meantime into the more comfortable, casual silk robe the Queen had given her, throwing it over her nightgown, tying it around her waist.

When she finally stepped outside her guard furrowed his brow and shook his head.

"Prince Aemond wanted to meet me in the library. Take me there." She said – the man hesitated and sighed heavily, indicating with his hand for her to go ahead.

Her cousin was already waiting for her – he gave her one protracted glance from over his open books, his eye open wide as if he was surprised by her appearance, candles all around him.

He nodded at her to sit beside him in the chair, and she did so, leaving her guard outside the door.

He moved one of the books towards her and opened it to a page he apparently wanted to discuss with her.

"We'll start with the basics. The most important and simplest terms." He said matter-of-factly, sliding another book towards her and leaned in, his clearly defined cheekbone close, too close, pointing his finger at one of the words.

"Jelmor." He hummed. "North."

"Jelmor." She whispered, feeling the tension in all the muscles of her body.

"Ñāqon. East."

"Nāqon."

"No. Roll your tongue at the n." He said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, something in his gaze from which her heart struck harder.

It seemed to her that his iris was black.

There was something obscenely intimate in his bent figure, in his slightly parted lips, in his proximity, the place between her thighs all swollen, increasingly moist and warm.

"Ñāqon." She whispered.

"Better." He hummed, his gaze never leaving her face even though his finger moved on to the next words, as if he knew this book by heart. "Vēzor. South."

"Vēzor."

"Endia. West."

"Endia."

"Muña. Mother." He said, something flashed dangerously in his gaze, as if he knew exactly what her reaction would be and he was not wrong.

She froze, clasping her hands on her thighs, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, the tightness in her throat indicating that she felt pain.

"Muña."

"Mmm. Kepa. Father."

She swallowed hard, looking at him with eyes glazed from tears, feeling her body begin to twitch. His lips parted slightly, as if what he was doing to her, the fact that she was vulnerable aroused him.

"Repeat." He whispered.

"Kepa." She said, feeling a single, heavy tear run down her cheek.

Kepa.

She shuddered, looking up at him in horror as his hand rose to her cheek, his thumb lazily rubbing the wet mark from her face.

"Trēsy. Son." He continued, his voice like the sound of water, calm and quiet.

Tender, as if he were moved.

Why?

She sighed as his hand traveled lower, his index finger running over her jaw.

"Tresy."

"No." He said. "Trēsy. The letter 'ē' needs to be read deeper, as if you want to sing."

"Trēsy."

"Tala. Daugther."

She shook her head, pressing her lips together, feeling that she couldn't do it, the feeling as if he was driving needle after needle into her heart made it difficult for her to get anything out.

She sighed, closing her eyes as he leaned lower, in some natural reflex pressing his forehead against hers, his hand sinking into the skin of her neck, his warm, excited breath enveloping her face.

She involuntarily clenched her thighs together, feeling the wonderful, familiar pulsing and tickling between them.

"Tala."

"Hāedar." He exhaled, something in his voice from which she felt her nipples harden, peeking through from under the fabric of her robe. "Little sister."

She opened her eyes, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

And that was a mistake.

He was looking straight into her face.

She sighed when she felt his other hand on her knee, moving slowly up to her thigh.

"Hāedar." She exhaled, feeling her cunt begin to leak with desire against her will.

"Lēkia." He said, as if he had done something definitive, a quiet moan breaking from her throat as his hand closed over her womanhood. "Older brother."

"Lēkia." She moaned and whimpered as his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, loud, sticky kiss full of their saliva and panting, her palm touching his scarred cheek, drawing a low murmur of delight from his throat.

She touched him.

She sighed as she let her hand sink into his smooth white hair, for some reason seeking comfort in him, an escape from the cold, bleak loneliness and emptiness that filled her heart.

They sank again and again into each other's soft, fleshy skin, his tongue bursting between her teeth as his hand lifted the fabric of her robe, the other clenched in her curls.

She would have cried out in shocking delight had it not been for the fact that his lips muffled all the sound she made of herself as the tips of his fingers dug into the silken folds of her womanhood, dripping and throbbing with lust.

He groaned into her throat when he felt how unashamedly wet she was for him, and she gasped when his free hand slipped from her hair to her wrist, grasping it, drawing her to his body, pressing it against the bulge in his breeches.

He murmured and licked her encouragingly as her fingers tentatively ran over the outline of his swollen manhood, hidden beneath the leather material, hard, long and twitching.

He let go of her hand, embracing her around the waist and pulling her closer as he made sure she was going to give him what he wanted, their sighs of desire melting between their plump lips as his fingers pushed against her hot slit.

She spread her legs wider, wanting to feel it, wanting him to do it to her, but they both jumped away from each other as if burned when they heard the creak of the door opening.

Her cousin wiped his hand, sticky with her moisture in his breeches, looking at his betrothed's figure, pale, and she lowered back the material of her robe, staring blankly at the books open before her.

Was she able to see by their faces, by their quickened breaths what had happened?

She felt shame at the thought that she shouldn't have done this.

She was his betrothed.

She was the one he should be touching like this.

She was the one he should spend the evening with, learning about her body.

"The guards told me I would find you here, my Prince. I did not know you would have company." She said calmly, however, disappointment and understandable annoyance could be heard in her tone of voice.

She swallowed hard, feeling that the material beneath her buttocks was wet with her moisture, her swollen walls pulsing greedily around nothing, begging to feel his fingers again, her nipples hard and sore, clearly outlined beneath her robe.

"I am teaching my cousin the language of Old Valyria. It is the only way she can communicate with her dragon." He said, feigning composure, looking ahead but not at her even though she stopped right beside him.

She touched one of the books and flipped a page, remaining silent for a moment.

"May I join you? I would also like to learn the language of your ancestors, my love." She said, her hand on his shoulder.

She looked at him and saw that he had closed his eye, as if he felt discomfort the moment Lady Floris touched him.

He swallowed loudly and opened his eyelid, his gaze helpless and childlike, filled with pain.

"I will not be able to concentrate with you standing by my side, my Lady." He whispered, his voice weak, as if he had run out of strength.

Floris's hand slid from his shoulder to his forearm, his figure tense, his lips clamped into a tight line.

He didn't look at her.

"Does my presence disturb you, my love?" Floris asked, and she twisted in her seat, deciding that this conversation was too private.

These were their problems, their betrothal, their worries.

Why was she allowing herself to be dragged into this?

"I'll leave you alone. With your permission." She said quickly, wanting to get up, his gaze shifting to her, sharp and angry.

"Daor, hāedar."

She froze in mid-motion with her hands on the table, looking at him in disbelief, feeling her walls clench around nothing at his words.

No, little sister.

Little sister.

She swallowed hard feeling her lips part involuntarily, her eyebrows arching in helplessness, the heat that spread across her chest strangely pleasant and reassuring.

Floris looked at him then at her and shook her head.

"What did you say, my love?"

"I don't allow it. We are not finished yet. Soon her dragon will move to fight at my side and she must be ready. I ask that you never interrupt us again. If you wish, we will take a walk around the royal gardens tomorrow, just as you desire." He said emotionlessly, as if trying to calm a whimpering child.

Floris swallowed hard and looked at her in a way from which she felt discomfort in her stomach, a sense of humiliation, frustration and irritation in her gaze.

"Is it because she is your cousin? Like any Targaryen you prefer your own kin?" She asked quietly, both of them bouncing when his fists slammed into the table, and he sprang from his seat, towering over his betrothed as if he wanted to tear her apart.

She too stood up, grabbing his arm in some helpless, naïve gesture.

"Lēkia." She said pleadingly.

Floris's lips clenched looking at the fact that she dared to touch him, that her prince looked at her and not his betrothed, that it was her opinion that counted, her word that could stop him.

And then Floris' gaze fled lower, to his breeches, and she froze, pale, seeing exactly her answer to all her concerns.

Her hand let go of him when his nostrils stopped twitching with rage, when his jaw relaxed into an expression a little softer, though still frustrated.

He finally looked at his betrothed and licked his lower lip, as if trying to control himself.

"I will consider that you never said it, my Lady. Otherwise I would have to recognise that you intended to insult me and my family. And that would mean, in turn, that my betrothed is a fool. Is that how it is, my Lady?" He gasped in a voice filled with mockery, from which she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze.

Floris Baratheon looked at him with eyes full of tears, and then her gaze turned to her, her lips quivering with rage and grief.

"No, my Prince. I am not." She said, turned and walked away, leaving them alone.

She was unable to look at him – the silence in the chamber, his taut silhouette standing beside her made her feel like her wetness was dripping from between her thighs straight onto the stone floor beneath her feet.

"You may leave." He said finally.

She nodded and moved towards the door on soft legs, walking out into the corridor, thinking that they had both accomplished some amazing feat by not simply fucking each other on that table.

She sighed loudly, running her hand over her face, thinking that maybe she wasn't such a bad person.

She figured that during their next lessons she wouldn't sit so close to him, that she wouldn't look at him or tempt him.

That she wouldn't let him touch her anymore.

She blinked, looking around, only noticing after a moment that there was no guard who should be watching her.

She turned when she heard the rustling of a gown behind her, something long and hard hit her head with all its force, and she fell to the floor with a thud.

It seemed a moment before she lost consciousness that she heard the breathy voice of her cousin's betrothed above her, only a quiet hiss left her lips.

"Whore."

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darlingofvalyria · 1 year ago

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❝I am the Heir's Wife. I bore the Heir his lineage. I will not be swept aside.❞

[ The Prince Jacaerys Velaryon should have known his wife better— or at least, her ire, for when his trysts with the bastard Snow reached the Spiders and soon, the ears of his Princess Consort, rage and war drummed for Winterfell, demanding heads.

—Maestre Kevan, Volume IV of The Bastard Eater, passage chapter under 'The Flame that Sung for the North'. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 10,062 ] [ series masterlist ] | jacaerys velaryon x targaryen aunt!reader (aegon's twin sister), one-sided aegon ii x reader, jace x sara snow

contains— canon divergence - manipulative reader, targcest, smut, angst - post-vizzy t death, rhaenyra is queen - mentions of children, pregnancy, childbirth - allusions to infidelity & character death(s) - targaryen madness, revenge, domestic violence (not jace), unhinge behaviour, intense use of 'bastard', profanity, gaslighting, guilt-tripping - this is basically gone girl, you gone girl jace - dark fic - mentions of depression (aegon ii), allusions to suicide (not reader) - nsfw: oral (f receiving), breeding kink, creampie - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— i didn't think i was going to do the sara snow thing, but herewe are. also i just wanted an excuse to go absolutely ape shit. reader gets very intense, like thoroughly unhinged. this is literally me supporting women's wrongs. it is also quite insane that this reached 10k and it's still just the first part lmaooo + comment, reblog & like at will!

"THAT FUCKING BASTARD! THAT GODSDAMNED, WHORE-FUCKING STRONG HALF BREED!"

Your shrieks echo stone and shadow, interrupted only by the things you pick up and hurl. Anything your hands grab, you throw and spit obscenities against, rage and tears ruin your pretty visage. The fury swept past your cherub features, a dragon breaking through the Hightower seams, upending fire and roar from the pits of your being.

"HOW DARE HE?! I GAVE HIM AN HEIR! I BROUGHT HIM PEACE! I BETRAYED—" you roar, pulling your pearl dagger— a gift from your Strong Bastard of a Husband — and throwing it to your vanity mirror, glass shards exploding. "— MY KIN!"

"DAUGHTER, PLEASE!"

Arms wound across your torso—hardened and chain-mail — as you fight against your bounds before a pain flashes to your cheek. Your rage quiets, hard breaths from your lungs. You turn your tear-stained anger to your mother and her palm, fright and terror on her regale visage.

Death of a spouse becomes the Queen Dowager in her pale blue robe and unbound spirals of auburn hair. Peace had begotten a realm that is balanced on the lineage you had produced for the Queen, her heir, and your own, as the new Princess of Dragonstone. With Otto Hightower for evermore banished to Oldtown, Kings Landing had been brought to a flowering kindness.

Queen Rhaenyra's ascension had been a wondrous affair, fit the for the first crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not a Queen Consort, not a Queen Regent. An heir who rose for the crown always meant to be hers.

But the calamity that brewed in her ascension... no. You paved the peace. T'was you who wrangled the Great Houses that proved allyship to your twin brother's banner, you who blessed her with tranquility of a rule that will be known for ages that will precede you all.

And now her son... her son dared to destroy everything.

A conversation floats above your head, by your Queen Mother and her sworn shield, the Ser Cole, but you barely hear anything past the ringing in your head.

The Targaryen Madness the sheep so call it, an idle voice, faint and familiar, whispers in the niches of your brain. It has infected you so. It breathes, fuelled by the air wrought by your husband's betrayal. It sings, sweet love. It sings.

"—your grace, I urge to hold her—"

"—she is my daughter, Ser Cole, I am not in danger. Release her."

Justice, the voice shrieks? Screams? But it is so soft in your head, a wail of a memory, a woman or a man? must be had. No dragon falls in such disgrace.

The tight wound over your torso is unleashed but the knight is not far, tensed to cage you, when your mother grasps your elbows as you grab hers, nails digging into the thick fabric of her hem that she still winces, your grip steel-tight.

"My darling, please. I cannot help you if you do not speak what ails you." She brushes her hand desperately across your face, smearing your tears, trying to find the daughter she bore past the savagery and madness that beholds you now. "What has happened?"

You draw a tightened, harsh breath to your lungs, rattling your bones that you quiver in your attempt for sanity.

"I am being shamed, mother," you whisper. Stark, violet eyes meeting the worried round, brown of hers. "The Strong bastard is whoring himself to another, a Northern bastard."

A cackle falls your lips as alarmed gazes are exchanged above your head.

"Y-You cannot say such things aloud, sweet girl," your mother hushes your madness, pulling you close to her chest as she shoots a glance at the door.

Criston checks outside, but only your maids linger. Dyanna presses a finger against her lips, catching the knight's eye, and the rest scatter, surely to make sure that no one that need not know of their mistress' words is within reach. A shiver still runs his spine. He will never get used to the quiet, almost non-verbal way your connection worked and reached. Your Spiders weave webs all around, even as their mistress sunders with rage.

"Mayhaps you are mistaken, for sure the prince is loyal, and he adores you—"

You pull back against her, teeth bared. She flinches and Ser Cole steps forward, wary. "It is the third missive now that I have received. Did you think I would not have confirmed twice— thrice? I didn't believe it the first time! But three people have now confirmed that all this time, in the guise of rallying his mother's cause in the North, he is spending ample time with the Lord Stark's bastard sister. His bastard fucking sister!"

Your mother's horror catches that of Ser Criston's, but your fury is your own, you are a dragon trapped in the ruin of your own making, of the webs you had spun so cleverly to get to this point, and you cannot stop.

"I am the Heir's Wife. I bore the Heir his lineage, my blood spilled the birthing bed for it." A cry leaves your lips as your grief and rage pools like ichor from your chest to the floor. Alicent is torn away from you— your nails had gone through her robe and she had cried in pain, a mimick of your own, a mother to a daughter to a mother to a daughter, a cycle, an Ouroboros — and you fall to the floor, grasping at your chest.

"I will not be swept aside. I will not be ignored."

A gasp falls from your lips as your mind moves to a quiet, still place. The tremble fades, your rage and grief whirls, collects, as you push it all back inside your chest.

Your madness must be sharpened for it be used as a sword.

And you cannot let him be happy in another's arms.

If you cannot drag them to the Hells, sweet dragon, the idle voice hums, hisses? Screeches. Your ancestors— all of those who have succumbed to dreamy madness — appears in the corners of your vision like soldiers. Awaiting for you to join them. Awaiting the blood that you will spill.

Then you must raise the Hells unto Winterfell.

"...my daughter?" Alicent calls, hesitant. Cole hovers but does not approach, standing guard in protection of the Dowager. It breaks her heart to see you this way, a young woman still, much older than she was when she married but only because you had always sought your future. You had always had a hardened scale, far stronger than she.

Even when you made your entrance to the world— the unmeasurable pain of bringing not one, but two heirs into the world, her firstborns, all at once — you had never cried. The maestres, maids, they worried for you, as your twin brother had not stopped crying, so alive and red, raw from the wound of being fresh.

But you... you had not made a sound.

The entire weight of your being— your mind, your emotions — even then, you wrangled them close to your very centre, never letting them stray too far from the edges of your fingertips. As if any release must be made with a perused thought. An incentive of reason.

Even then, you plotted every step you took.

Now, Alicent watches as her firstborn daughter suctions all her emotions— that Targaryen madness that plagued the blood of her husband, his ancestors — and made her ploy.

Against the husband that dared make a fool of her.

The silence beckons nightmare. Old fear flickers inside the Queen Dowager.

"Where are my daughters?"

"What?"

"My daughters," you repeat, a hair's breadth louder than the first time you spoke. Your eyes flutter upward. The deadened gaze curled Alicent's heart in fear. "Where are they?"

"In the nursery, with the twins and Maelor. Helaena and Aegon are watching them."

You offer your hand up mutely, and Cole exchanges one last, lingering look with the Dowager, before offering his own. You stand up, thank him softly, and brush and clean up your face to the best of your ability. An utter calmness over your visage.

"Tell no one of what I had told you," you say, fixing your hair and rubbing the red from your cheeks. One minute there is madness, the next there is nothing. There is only a girl. A woman. A princess. "No one knows apart the three of us, and if you ever decide, Ser Criston, that nigh is the glorious time for you to betray my mother or I, know that the last thing thing oyu will fear is the Stranger's hand when I am through with you."

Your mother shouts your name, horrified. "What are you thinking? What are you plotting?"

You cup Alicent's face, smiling ever sweet. "Your innocence will keep you safe, mother. All I ask, for the heart you keep for your children, that you keep this between sealed lips and tilted chin. You know nothing, yes?"

"... Yes. Nothing."

You place a tender kiss on your mother's head. "Keep Daenera and Aemma safe for me. Aegon and I are flying to Dragonstone promptly. Sweet Helaena does ever so get overwhelmed by watching all of the children by herself."

"D-Dragonstone?"

Your sweet smile touched with poison, stretches. "It is high time I take a dragon for myself, don't you think so?"

While an insecure obsession had fraught your younger brother about claiming a dragon, you had met it with indifference.

For how can you not mourn the loss of Aemond's sight, staring in quiet horror the entire time as the maestre did his best to salvage the muck mess of blood and nerve endings, before the old man had shaken his head, and you turned to the small bowl that contained your brother's eye, unable to look at anything else.

Not even when your mother's rage was met with apathy and anger, her demands for justice nothing more than a woman's insanity, a mother's grief that must be swept away, tucked under a chin and a sadness she will never get rid of.

"Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

Your soft-hearted, darling, baby brother. None of his words had thawed the freezing of your heart, the grief under the swell of your breastbone.

Your own mourning was kept between teeth and tongue, as you had slept with your siblings that night. The four of you, tucked under the wing of the other, Aemond close to your chest as possible, as quiet, hot tears ran down your face. Every moan of pain or whimper he made in his sleep tore at each new vein inside of you.

"Dragons are the symbol of our House's power," Aegon had once said, windswept hair you tried to tame with your fingers, smelling fresh of Sunfyre and winds.

"And yet, there were no eggs in our child beds." He stiffened while you smiled sadly, curling your twin's hair away form his face, making him presentable and dusting the bout of sand that managed to find his leathers. You had been scolded long before by your grandsire of how you coddle Aegon, how you defend him, mother him more than your mother ever could, but you cannot stop. You were meant to care for him, tethered you once were inside your mother's womb together, you hold him steady now.

Whenever he was lost, whenever his sadness overtook him, wrung your brother dry of life, you bat the Stranger's hand and bring him back.

"But we have proved them wrong," he insisted. "All of us, even Aemond with Vhagar— the war queen, Visenya's dragon — we have claimed ours. Daeron all the way Oldtown has Tessarion, even Helaena has Dreamfyre. And yet you insist..."

You wound your arms over his torso, keeping him close in a silly hug where you sway and dance him around. A laugh escaped him while you inhaled the scent of smoke, soot, and that grime stench of beast.

Aegon on his good days lacked the bottle-edge of wine, of cheap salts from the waft of the soiled, Silk Streets.

This was your brother. No one else.

"I fare better without one," you whispered in his ear. "I appear innocent, sweet almost, without a beast in my command. They look at me with nothing but pity and the urge to protect me. Our father likes me like this, his poor, lovely daughter without a dragon of her own, listening so intently to his histories of Old Valyria. Our sister is eased, as one daughter is plagued by dreams and struggles with the real world, while the other cannot even claim a dragon of her own. Poor princess, Hightower blood must have thickened in her veins. She too, is no threat."

You pulled back, smiling at him. "They like me better like this. Pitiful, compliant, nothing but a sweet and pretty flower that sways in the Spring breeze. A beautiful decoration but no more."

He rubbed a thumb on your arm, a worry knot on his forehead. Aegon adored you but he struggled to piece together where your plot lies. You are a web-spinner, forever dancing out of reach, catching prey and lengthening your intricacies. "Is that why you hide your training with Aemond alone? Ser Criston is mother's sworn shield, he would not mind—"

"I will not place my secrecies to a knight with a soiled cloaked," you snorted. "No matter how tall he stands beside our mother. I trust no one but my kin. And I know that no matter how heavy you drink, sweet Aeg of mine, my secrets are your own."

He took your hand, kissing the back of it, stare impregnable. "As your blood is my own, our fire is one flame. I go where you tell me to."

You kissed his cheek, a reward, laughing. He smiles proudly at the sound. At this time, you dangled yourself to your brother as bait as the pressure from your grandsire to make him King started rising. You had been given notice that he had been talking to House Lannister, Wylde, even some Riverland lords.

You did not mind becoming Aegon's second wife. Just as his namesake, he will have his Rhaenys and Visenya. Unlike the Conqueror however, he would adore his Visenya more than a true flower. Helaena would enjoy that far better.

"And if I tell you to jump?" you half-purred.

"I will ask you how high."

Memories and choices break and tide as you scramble for hold on the rocky cliff face. Dragonmont in the dark is a behemoth beast, a screech or two breaking like lightning crackles, or the familiar drum beat of wings before the silence consumes once more. The stench of fire, of beasts and carcasses helps cloak the darkened night.

"Udligon ñuha brōzagon, Answer my call," you hiss into fraudulent emptiness, hands gripping rocky edges until your blood beads, "you fucking lizards."

"Have you gone mad!?"Aegon shouted, trying to pace with your run to the dragonpit.

A rocky laugh broke out from your being, not deigning that with a reply. Aegon huffed angrily.

"Alright, tell me this then. How are you so sure I'm not just about to put you on a bleeding volcano to die? We claim your dragon in the morn, sister. First thing before we break our fast. I'm sure by then, Vermithor or—"

You whipped your head around, pulling halt. "I leave tonight to claim my dragon. Whether it is you and Sunfyre who gets me there, or Aemond and Vhagar, is no matter to me. I will claim one tonight. It is up to you to decide now if we tell Aemond or not."

Aemond, whose anger is wounded tight, the barest excuse for war always at the edge of his hum. The misstep at Storm's End had cost him everything. Had cost your mother everything. Queen still, Alicent Hightower had bent the knee and offered her life in exchange for mercy. Before Rhaenyra passed judgement, Viserys I had passed.

It didn't matter that you had ensured a higher dosage from the Harrenhal witch in his usual milk of the poppy. Your spiders moving with ease through the silent channels you had established long before your own flowering.

The Red Keep had scrambled, the Heir with it. It was enough time for Lucerys to have come out of the red, confirmed to live through the worst of it without as much as a broken bone. Arrax however, had been badly maimed, and would no longer take flight. But he and his rider would live. Aemond would live. Alicent would have her son. Rhaenyea will have hers, and the crown.

Kevan had done his duty unto you while you settled the storms in Dragonstone. You rewarded him handsomely.

Aegon sighed. He too, would like your honour avenged, but not for the sake of war. "As you wish, sister. I hope you know what you're doing and I am not about to send you to your death."

Just like what you did to your mother, you reached forward and cupped his face. If before, your touch stills his heart and floods his cavities with warmth, a flash of fear strikes the twin son at the eerie smile on your face.

"Skoros morghot vestri? What do we say to the god of death?"

Aegon blinked. "Tubī daor. Not today."

You smiled. "Trust me, sweet Aeg. It is not my death the Stranger will take. Not until the fjords of the North are at my mercy."

"Iksan kesīr sir naejot māzigon ñuha sikagon pakto! I am here now to claim my birth right!" Your scream echoes and falls, repeating back to you. There is a hum, like an electric current that sizzles and pops inside your blood and marrow, and you scramble higher and higher on the rock. Your blood does not sing for the dragon lairs, but above. Up and up, jagged edges cut your skin and dress, the wind whipping with sea mist, but nothing, no one, can clamour you as you reach the peak.

At first you see nothing but darkness and hollow sounds. But you let your eyes adjust, a hiss breaking out of your dry lips as you stumble. You look down. What you first thought were rocks and wayward bones of cattle is bigger.

Whale? No.

Dragon. Dragon bone.

You look and will every sense that your eyes do not. The smell that is drowned— iron. Bones bigger than a person. Than cows and whales. Bones of fearsome beasts. Darkness moves, taking form, more than shadow. Scales hewn rough and jagged, as if stone themselves. Midnight black moving with the gentlest of sighs.

As soon as you realise what— or who — is in front of you, the eyes open with an intelligent gleam. Your heart jolts at the emerald irises that gaze back at you, slitting at the appearance of a human.

'The stench of death follows him', the voice of an old keeper hums into your ear. You no longer remember who told this to you, but the words ring true in your memory. 'Scales of midnight, as if hewn from darkness and death. A harbinger, your grace, an omen of the darkest nightmares.'

"Rytsas. Hello." You smile, ever sweet, ever charming.

This is a thread you had never felt before. Not one of your own making, but something older. A golden thread that led the eyes of Daenys the Dreamer. That spun the ties of Aegon the Conqueror. The voices that herded your madness had gone quiet in the mad rush to get here, but now their presence thickens. Words you cannot hear, nor understand, flood the silence as dragon met rider for the first time.

Keepers and historians have called him he, but every bone in your body tells you that the being before you is a she.

And wouldn't that make sense? A cannibalistic being is a woman?

She opens her maw, only ever slightly, smoke and fire crackling out of it. Molten lava in the belly of her insides tease the cool, night air and warms you.

Her version of a smile. Hello, she seem to say.

"Māzīs. Come," you say, giggling. "Dohaerās. Serve."

That night, you took your first flight.

That night, the Cannibal took her first flight with her first— and only — rider as well.

�� . . . It is said that the formerly named "The Cannibal" had been entranced by the hunger of his new— first and evermore — rider. Prince Aegon the Elder who had escorted his twin sister that very night with Sunfyre, had looked up in alarm and fright to a maddened screech. Excitement and laughter pouring out from the newly bonded Dragon and Rider had soon turned fear into awe.

Gaelithox, she had been named as they had ridden until dawn broke by the rider who loved her 'till the end of their days, was said to have seen a mirror in Her Grace. The fathomless hunger for blood and organ from the same bodies of their kin. For Gaelithox ever hungers and satisfies for the same meat as her, at the height of her grief and ire that fuelled the Queen Consort to climb Dragonmont by hand, she too hungered for the throats of her traitorous blood.

Gaelithox will only have one rider in her whole life, as she found no same twin soul as akin in the Bastard Eater Queen. Their bond moved as if two bodies beheld one soul.

She shied from humans, and oft found too rough with other dragons. Vhagar was an exception, oft seen acting as an elder sister to the Queen's dragon when neither royal rode them and played in the skies. Smaller dragons were forbidden to approach her however, nor was she allowed in the dragonpit after almost devouring the flightless Arrax.

She died two moons after the Queen's death, delivering her final flames for her rider and would never more breathe her infamous green flames akin to Wildfire, ordered by the Crowned Heir, Princess Daenera Velaryon. It is said that the princess attempted to bond with the cannibalistic dragon but it refused.

The dragon spent her last moons in heartbreak, oft seen in Dragonstone and the Red Keep, circling her rider's most favourite places. Her final resting place is at the very top of Dragonmont from whence the Queen claimed her. It is said that the Queen's crown, the one the King Jacaerys had gifted her after the birth of their first sons, the Princes Laenor and Gaemon, is said to be placed there, as well as a portion of her ashes.

It is said that the King and the Queen's twin brother, the Prince Aegon, personally made the trek in remembrance.

It is widely suspected that Aelyx, Princess Daella's dragon, the youngest child of the King and Queen, may have been Gaelithox's only existing hatchling for he too is made of rough, midnight scales. The dragon that bred with her remains to be unknown. ❞

—Maestre Kevan Noratz, Volume X of The Life and Lies of the Emerald Flame, passage chapter under 'The Time of Hunger: Gaelithox'.

You leave Gaelithox to a mournful goodbye on Dragonstone, pressing your forehead against her hard, scaly head, promising to come back, of exchanging her diet for fat, juicy whales, for more wind-whipped rides, before riding back on Sunfyre with Aegon. The younger dragon would not rise from the beaches in fear of the cannibalistic elder, but you made ensuring promises to teach Gaelithox not to chew your dearest brother's dragon.

You had gone most of your life without the feeling of a bond beneath you, warm and alive and wild, and the roar and stench that though new, felt so familiar in your ribcage— you will fly again. And with your brothers beside you. With Helaena and her lovely Dreamfyre.

To think they had taken this from you too, to placate them. To play into their hands like a mewling kitten.

No more.

It is paces before fast is about to break when you both touch back down to Kings Landing. The Keep busying with its occupants, servants and maids bolstering with quickened feet to ensure the lords and royals are awakened with full, poached meals, dresses and coats readied for their lords and ladies, a new, glorious day under the Reign of the Black Queen.

"What now?" Aegon asks, trying to keep with your pace but he is fatigued, failing to stop his yawns. The excitement of last night had come upon him like a fog, and he is missing his bed. Hells, he is missing the bed he stays with his wife if it meant he would get a full night's sleep in the hours of the day.

"Now, we speak nothing of what happened."

He turns to you, frowning. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." You beam, nodding in favour of soldiers and maids who bow in reverence to the Crown Princess. You know you smell of dragon and night, and you need a bath. And to talk to Dyanna before you seek your daughters. "I will need time and people. The board must still be set for me to perfectly execute what I have in store."

"Alright." He yawns again. "I'll be in my quarters, passed out, if you need me. Please do not need me until sup."

You laugh breathlessly, grabbing his hand and giving it a wet kiss. "I will give you your rest, be assured. Kirimvose, dōna lēkia, Thank you, sweet brother."

The words are simple, said in a quiet murmur heavy with love and meaning. Aegon presses a loving kiss to your head, unable to stop himself winding an arm around you.

"Syt ao, va moriot, ñuha prūmia. For you, always, my heart."

As you break to each other's chambers— his, to sleep, you, already meeting Yna and requesting for a bath — you don't notice the lurker that watched the intimate moment between twins, humming in amusement before it moves to follow you.

Back in your quarters— your marriage quarters as Jacaerys had requested that you forgo having your own, not wishing to part with you — the maids are already busying themselves airing the room, moving to follow your usual routine. The only thing breaking it is the tub now in the centre.

"Thank you," you say to Yna as she picks out the pins from your hair, shrugging off your dress in the process as soon as the maids had untangled the lace behind you.

"Call for Dyanna," you tell them as they bow and leave, the door clicking softly behind them. Plans must be made. Bath for now.

With the world stifled for a second, left with only you and your thoughts, you plunge your body under too-hot water, sighing against the aches and pains in your body. Dragon-riding is a new endeavour to your muscles, and though enjoyable, was still too new.

You sigh as tears fall from your eyes, blinking exhaustedly against soft, humming daylight. You had always known that love, as it is, is a maiden's folly. A foolish, hapless play meant to fool young girls into thinking the world is kind; a pretty place.

It was an even farther thought from you, a princess of the realm. At a young age, it has been drilled to you that your womb is a rare commodity. Your body has never been your own, a piece meant to be moved in a bigger game that you are used for, not play.

You weren't stupid.

If there's a few things Otto Hightower had ever granted you, apart from gifting you his keen prowess in moving power beneath your fingertips, in hungering for more, for better— it is understanding what each person is, who they can be, how you can move them. A flatter, a flair, a push. As a man, there is much to be desired about your grandsire; he used people, used family to pursue power, but you can't truly fault him for that as you were the same.

You just took better care of the people under your wing.

And for Jace, you had banished him.

The worst part, you knew there was a good, fat chance you would care for the princeling. He was a kind man, a sweet man, and with a guiding hand, you could forge yourself the best husband for yourself as much as you can mould a great king and a wonderful father. Women's hands are ever carved to mould and prod men. We stand behind, a presence or a hand, an echo of power.

But your Jace had surpassed it all, and in the moons leading up to your present day, to giving him his heirs, two beautiful daughters, the promised full Valyrian colouring in the silver hair in Daenera, your eldest, the wide, violet gaze in Aemma— the name of his mother's mother, a request of him that you had kindly, graciously fucking agreed to — of course there is a part of you, the girlish, tender heart that you long thought you had buried to get here, would fall for the brown-eyed, wondrous man.

You sink deeper into the tub, sighing as you let yourself unravel—

When you feel it. A presence in your room. It's soft. Silent. Not a lot would feel as such, but as paranoid as you are, as you keep your spiders clean and pretty with your dewy-eyed webs— you know better.

Your mind runs with ideas on who it might be, and come to a few people. No true name rises. The Red Keep is flooded with spies and traitors. You test your luck, sitting up on the tub, raising an arm over the lip of it and flicking water with your fingertips.

"If you are here to kill me, I'm afraid it will be a lost cause."

He laughs, sardonic and edged and familiar, jetting a tingle down your spine.

Well. There's getting a calm bath.

"Perceptive as always, niece," he says, heavy footfalls approaching now that he has been caught. "I'm just here to say hello."

You raise your eyes, mouth curled but unsmiling at the man who acts as the biggest thorn to your plots. Daemon Targaryen has never fallen through your webs, on guard against your flatter, your push, or your flair. Of course, taking the position of his daughter might have forever burnt that road, but you would think he'd ease up just a little bit when his wife, the Queen, had warmed to you considerably.

Unlike your mother, you had never been hostile to your bitch of an elder sister. Just like your plots for Aegon and Jacaerys, and nodding along to thread your father had started but abandoned, foolishly thinking the realm would follow without him fully ensuring your sister's claim to the throne— you carefully maintained a polite farce with Rhaenyra.

Ultimately, this became a boon to you, as she had responded positively to your abrupt marriage to her son, even reminding her deranged guard dog of their own marriage. The cream to your lemon cake had been when you birthed Aemma, the Queen's most favourite grandchild thus far. When she was a babe, Rhaenyra was never far; almost, always holding your daughter, cooing at her cheeks, remarking her likeness to her namesake with pure fondness.

But Daemon Targaryen knew, in the deepness of his marrow, that there is something wrong with you.

"Hello," you answer primly. He laughs, leaning against the passage to your open balcony. "We could have had this elating greeting at fast, if you wish to break it with me and my own."

He scoffs, unable to hide his disdain at the thought. It breaks his stare of your naked visage. Men. "I would rather jump to the fighting pits, good daughter."

"How rude. Is that all?" You meet his gaze steadily, tilting your head. "If it is not obvious yet, good father, I am bathing."

An amused smirk. "I can see that." Lecherous fucking geezer. "No matter. I just have a... curious thought, a wonder I suspect you may be able to answer. See. Truly odd it is, for the keepers to alert me this morning that Sunfyre had taken a ride past the Hour of Owl." Your heart thuds in your ribcage and you do your best to keep your expression mildly irritated. "Not with one, drunken rider, but with another. It had taken them hours, only coming back when morning had already presented in the air."

He steps forward, slow, menacing, until he reaches the edge of your tub and crouches. Your gazes are still unmatched in height, defiant as yours might be.

"The distinct smell wafts them, a Keeper said, and one suspects that though one dragon left last night, two might have come back this morning for he had seen another fly away." His fingers dips into the water, swirling the steam without breaking eye contact. "I wonder if you know anything about it, darling niece of mine."

The mocking emphasis is not lost on you. If the Queen is the Realm's Delight, you were Darling of the Realm. A sweet, merry girl, the secondborn daughter of Viserys I who frequently fought for the plight of the small folk, who gathered friends of all kinds of lords and ladies no matter the standing of their houses to her own, visiting far lands and charming every person in any room. Who made any feast brighter, always sparkling, always the darling.

Less of a dragon, more of a fairytale.

You sit up, leaning, baring your breasts completely to him as you pull yourself up on the ledge he is crouched from. He leans back, only slightly, as you smile demurely. Sweet. Tart. On the edge of pulling his head and hitting it against the copper tub.

"I am unsure of what you suspect, or is accusing me of, kepus, uncle," you purr and there's a twitch in his mouth, a widen in his irises— men are so fucking simple — "I had been feeling down last night, as my husband, as you know, is beyond my reach at the moment as he rallies alliances for the good of the realm. My brother had simply offered to take me out riding, trying to quell my loneliness with an excitable flight I had never been afforded."

You tilt your head. "Even if there had been a dragon binded to my own, why why would I not regale the realm with news of my success? I have longed for a dragon of my own, but alas, I have not quite succeeded where most of the family have." You pout. His eyes flicker. "Mayhaps I am more Hightower than I am Targaryen."

A huff leaves his lips, the amusement in his smile arching to his dark, dark gaze. Before you can react, his hand had comes forward to hold your chin in a tight grip, your jaw aching soon enough at the fingers that dig against your skin, wanting to bruise, to break.

Though a tremble passes your body, you keep his stare, gritting your teeth as the pad of his thumb brushes your lips. Moments and desires thrum between a charged hatred.

The lust is twisted from wanting to fuck you to wanting to kill you. The line is not simple. Maybe that is your fate together.

But he can't. You are well too ingrained in his family now, loved by the people he cared about. You are untouchable. For now. This is a warning, waiting for you to stutter, to show your hand. Any show of your true intentions... he is more than happy to swing Dark Sister across your throat.

He releases you without another word, standing up and leaving through the front door, the door clicking shut.

You sink back into the bath, letting the water engulf you.

Your daughters are moons apart in birth, and there are only a few differences between them that people oft remarked they could be twins. Daenera is taller, spindly. Built like Aemond when he was younger. Her hair is spun moon and eyes of mullish blue. It reminds you of Daeron's eyes. You had named Daenera yourself, a gruelling birth that took the entire night. You promised Jacaerys he could name the second. He had chosen Aemma for a girl, Laenor for a boy.

Not a few moons later, you were with child again. Your husband pinked at the cheeks at the chiding from his family. When she cried into the afternoon sun—Aemma was born mid day, during a council meeting — he pain did not stop the laugh that came out of your mouth from the horrified expression from the Master of Coin as your water broke.

Aemma had a sweetheart face, cheeks much fatter than her older sister's, with a yellowish tinge to her hair, curlier too, reminding you of Aegon. And Aemma laughed more, her deep, violet eyes always half closed as she exploded in giggles and bright, sunshine happiness.

Sons they might not be, but you had given heirs for the throne. And for them, you would do anything to keep their futures intact. Bond with a dragon, face the Rogue Prince, upheave Winterfell. Anything.

You flounce to the nursery where you know the two would be, smiling sweetly at every person you pass as they bow in reverence. Most wore sights of confusion, their greedy eyes and wagging tongues drinking in the deep, emerald glisten of your gown.

It's an old dress, one you keep in the corner of your collection. It isn't as if you had forgo the colours of your mother's house, but playing court meant every movement, even the clothes you wear, can be meaningful. And since your marriage, your Jace liked you in Velaryon colours.

"A goddess come to bless," he gasped against your collarbone, keeping your legs high on his waist as he rutted into you before his teeth sunk on your skin. As newlyweds go, there is not a lot of teasing to be had for your husband to curl against you in a darkened alcove. Merely wearing his favourite colour on your skin has him panting like a dog. His favourite dress is a seafoam blue that dragged longer against the ground in a soft, almost-gossamer material with a silver belt.

Enticing him never took long, but you enjoyed the dance presented. You enjoyed the dark hunger that filled him until he grabbed you to take you because he just had to take you.

The fresh wound slices deeper as you imagine all the things Jacaerys is doing to the so called Sara Snow. The emerald green of your gown shimmers with your anger.

"Fucking bastards," you can't help but say aloud, nodding at the guards posted on the nursery as you hear the squeals of your daughter and the calm, even voice of your brother.

"Muña! Mother!" Aemma squeals, untangling herself from being pressed against Aegon's side as the children— Daenera and Jaehaera — cuddle around him, before running to you. Helaena is on the floor, entertaining baby Maelor. Your mother, hands twisting against her own, stands vigil by the window, staring far ahead.

You catch your secondborn, giggling as you pressed kiss after kiss on her face.

"I see everyone has started without me. Where is Jaehaerys?"

"You were late, sodjisto, aunt," Jaehaera grins gummily. Jahaera is only a year older than Daenera. Your daughters, five and a half and five respectively. "Jaehaerys is with kepus, uncle. They are training."

"Smart girl." You meet your brother's gaze, whose eyes had notably been staring at your dress, mouth turned down. "Why don't you three play with Helaena? I shall speak about Name Day gifts for your Uncle Joffrey for a bit, hm?"

As Aemma shrieks something about cakes, and Daenera dutifully kissing your cheek in greeting before she takes Jaehaera's hand, you turn to your brother and mother.

"Aemond?" you ask softly, keeping your voice out of earshot. Alicent shakes her head. You nod. "Good. We don't want him inciting a war before I have mine properly planned."

As the Dowager draws in a sharp inhale, Aegon grabs your hands, the worry pulled taunt in his eyebrows. "Are you seriously contemplating war, sister? Isn't there a better way to punish them?"

"What punishment does a man regale in?" you hiss, stepping close to him. "Or the Queen's heir for the bloody matter? When Aemond nearly killed Lucerys, and he confronted me as if I had ordered Vhagar to tear through his brother, I thought I had put to bed any doubts in our marriage. It seems that men stray, regardless. My daughters may be his heir now, but what is to say that bastard wildling he's found himself cock deep in produces a son? Will he shame me with a mistress? Or will he shame me with a second wife?"

Your mother's lips tightens, her fingers paling at how tight she is gripping her nerves.

"Bastard or not, if he takes her to wife, I will be nothing. Make that babe a son, and the realm will rally for it. Daenera is his heir. My daughters will not be forgone. I will not be pushed aside. This is mercy, brother," you say softly, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. "My last one. It requires time, moons, to unfurl. It requires seeding doubt and unfathomable inadequacy. Better if Aemond is none the wiser, Helaena the same. But I will need both of you for this to work. It is the only time I will ever ask. For me. For my daughters."

"And you will punish Winterfell with a war?" your mother asks, frown pulled deep. "That is the plan?"

"I will not. I won't do such a thing so blatant, mother, you know me better than that. But this is my last mercy, and it will be the last. For the next time he offends me so, I do not care if Rhaenyra feeds me to Syrax. I will put a dagger through his heart, heir or not."

The Prince Jacaerys comes back not a week later. Though he comes back to the same castle with the same occupants— your shiny new threads gleam. The stage has been set, a play ready to act. You had sent more spiders in the North, keeping a close eye to every blasphemy your husband has been enjoying in the absence of his duties, and as the rage in you quietly grew with each new whisper, your determination hardens.

You mark each indescretion. You keep a tally.

You count for each fall your blow will land on him.

Vermax lands with a screech and a heavy thump, your husband leaping off him with a grin on his face, matching the one you own, waving your arm joyously with Aemma in your arm and Daenera beside you, holding to your skirt as she grinned at her father.

Aemma wiggles under your hold, and you let Jace get close enough before you set her down, laughing, "Okay, okay!" Her laughter carries through as she scrambles like a bull to her father. A squeal peals out of her as Jace picks her up just in time and tosses her in the air.

"Want to meet kepa, father, sweet girl?" you whisper to Daenera, running a hand down her hair before she nods, breaking out into her own sprint, hugging her father as he greets them with laughter and kisses.

You let them have their time, and this, at least, eases your heart truthfully. A kind reminder that Jace adores his daughters.

You stay at the edge of the entrance, your too-wide grin softens into a smile. You were dramatic, nothing new about that, but even in the pale, pearl blue of your dress in silky, Myrish lace, the emeralds in your heavy, golden belt winks. Green ribbons twisted in your hair alongside fresh flowers. When the trio of your family treks toward you, silver-haired babes clinging to your dark haired prince, you serve a wink at the girls and they untangle themselves from their father while you stepped forward.

A choreographed dance, not giving him time to think. To pause.

Every step is calculated, every item on your body— the silk, the small seahorse that locks your dress behind you, the tint on your lips to the oil in your hair and body — is made to perform. You engulf him in you as if you want to suffocate his senses, your arms wrapping around him with sweet kisses pressing on his face, his neck.

Most in the dragonpit looked away, others, scandalously amazed and enchanted, watch as the princess is undeniably enthralled with her lord husband.

His laughter rumbles across his body, infecting your own, smelling of dragonback and crisp winds. You wonder if your nose is more heightened, you would be able to smell his whore in him, but you don't. It's just him. Your Jace.

Your body moulds against his as his arms tightens around you. When you lean back, you sweetly press a chaste kiss on his lips, grinning.

"What is this?" he huffs a laugh, meeting your doeful gaze. Your fingers curl around his chin, his cheek, idly tapping and touching as if you are committing so much newness to memory.

"Kostagon iā ābrazȳrys daor jaelagon zirȳla valzȳrys? Can a wife not want her husband?" you ask softly, pressing a few more kisses before sucking the last one just under his ear. His body shudders. You hide your smirk. "Skori ēza issare qrīdrughagon tolī bōsa? When he has been away too long?"

A yearning look tints your gaze from under your lashes, and you have to stifle the winning smirk as guilt pinches his face.

"My apologies, my wife. I did not mean to be away from you for long. From the girls." As his eyes flick to his daughters, your mask momentarily sharpens into clear distaste. The urge to dig your fingers into his eyes until he is bleeding and screaming under you is one you tamper with great distress.

Did not mean...

Did not mean to have a dalliance with another woman?

Did not mean to fall into bed with a fucking bastard, you insidious cunt, while I await here with your heirs?

Your anger thrums, nestled deep in your heart, it breathes. You school your face the moment he turns back to you, bringing your hands to his lips, kissing each finger with reverent tenderness. His brown eyes smoulder, rubbing your bare— irises widening — back.

"If you wish it, I can be on my knees for my apologies, my princess."

Your mouth curls. "I'm afraid that might have to be quite later, my prince."

"Huh?"

"The Dowager Queen hoped to congratulate you on your successful campaigning. Reaching as far as the North so frequently, we planned a feast for your return." Eyes shinning, you cup his face. You hope the guilt eats him raw from the inside out. Like worms. Like termites. Hungry, hungry, hungry. "We have never been more proud of you, I have never been more proud of you."

You laugh brightly, ignoring the way he squeezed you just a bit harder that mere second the same time his eyes tightened. "The moment I told the girls of it, they had begged to dance with you." Then you bit your lip, frowning slightly. "I... I understand if you are tired, 'tis a long journey after all, I did try to tell them you might want to rest, we can sneak you—"

"No, no, my heart, of course I would be happy to, I— I want nothing more." He brings you close, face disappearing into your neck. "Thank you. I love you."

You hum, carding your fingers through his hair. "As I love you."

For the rest of the feast, you dance just at the edges of his fingertips, ensuring that you permeated his sights and senses despite it. A game. A dance. When he thanks revelries who congratulate him, who ask him of his adventures, you proudly stand beside him, dutiful as the wife that you are, spearing him with compliments as much as you can. Hands squeezing his arm, your oils swallowing him with your smell.

When dinner came, you take chances massaging his thigh, sliding a salacious grin that had him blushing, ever so sweet, green— making you wonder what kind of fucking bastards do that he finds your attention so swallowing.

You don't let up.

Whenever he, in turn made a move, you sidestep, flutter a smirk, a wink; always escaping, letting him grow frustrated as the night went on.

Your one respite from taunting him had been when he danced with his daughters, making a gallant show of asking them, even Jaehaera. Giggles and spins, the ladies of the court fawn and coo.

Even now, you're making him to be the perfect man. The endearing husband, the wondrous father, the brilliant prince, the perfect lord.

To execute your plan, it must be made with a surgical precision. A slice that guts him to his knees, that breaks his spirit and quenches the whispering, wicked madness nestling with your ire. On another cheek, he must remain upright and upstanding, as to keep your daughters' future in perfect order.

You catch the domineering gaze of Daemon Targaryen, idle as he is, on the side of his distracted Queen, talking to a highborn lady. You don't look away as you toast him your cup of Arbour Red before you pucker your lips for a taste. Your eyes move to where your husband is already looking, flushed red and sweaty from all the dancing, your girls, preening and giggling around him.

You tilt your chin at him, a challenge in your gaze, before you slowly pull your lips away from your wine, stained red.

His throat bobs.

It will be a long, arduous game. Full of pitfalls and tightened webbing. One trip can kill you. But once the machinations are in order, once everything and everyone is in their proper places... oh, you cannot wait for the dance the dragons will make.

A flutter, a simpered footstep. Then a rustle of a dress as one bows.

"My lady," Dyanna greets behind you.

"Hm?"

"The spiders in the ice have met the pup in the snow."

"And?"

"The pup is not suspicious, in fact, they might go as far as to say that the pup is lonely. Though others largely understand her existence... no one likes a bastard."

You snort. "No, they don't, do they?"

"The wolf cares for the pup though, and is largely protective of his only sister."

"Hm. Complicated, but not impossible. Have Meera change the tone of my missive. A softer edge. Sweet but not overtly. Ensure the prerogative of politeness. Then have it sent to the Rookery. The proper channels."

You sigh, taking the edge of your braid and twisting through the ribbons your maid tangled between them. Tonight, you had elected Targaryen colours. A black dress akin to scales and a low, exposed back and dipping front, held together in red ribbons and silver chains. One that might be too on the nose, but the constant, feverish stares from your husband made it worth it.

"We have to ensure a good relationship with the Warden of the North, don't you think so?" You have not looked away from your husband since your maid came, and as he whispered something in Daenera's ear, nodding off to her grandmother with Aemma towed, he turned towards you, one stride after another.

"Precisely what I thought, milady."

"Go," you order her for the last time, giving her your cup, just before Jacaerys reaches you.

Game, set.

Worshipping you has always been something Jace excelled at. At the least, his cock was much larger than most, and without the preparation of his tongue and mouth, it burned. At most, he oft found himself holding your shaking thighs, your head and shoulders left on the bed as he feasted on you like a man starved, hungered for your nectar, the sounds you make, and the shaking of your body as you reached your peak on his tongue.

"J-Jace, please, I—" Your breath stutters, a hiccup escaping your mouth, but he is not letting up. On his knees as only a lordling can with his back straight, he is holding your thighs, your lower back, eating your cunny for the third time of the night.

As soon as he had reached you, he grasped your waist, whispering against your hair in a rumbled groan, "You are torturing me so, my wife. We leave. Now."

"Now?" you echoed, amused. "This is a feast in your honour."

"My honour is already hanging by a thread. The revelry will go on without us. I want to have my fill of you."

And fill he had. He didn't even wait to get you out of your dress before he had pushed your skirt upward, gone on his knees, and got his tongue inside of you.

Now, you are overwhelmed, overstimulated as you are hazy, gripping the wrecked sheets as your peak reached you once more. A strangled, breathy cry of his name falls between your lips as your back arched impossibly so, and instead of letting up, this seemed to fuel him harder, the muscle of his mouth working harder inside of your cunt, hands digging into your flesh to keep you steady.

It builds with a stimulation unending, and just as you're on the throes of your last high, it builds again, quick and fast this time, shuddering gasps of, "o-oh gods, g-gods, Jace!" is the last thing you are able to shout before your fourth peak breaks against the shudders of your last one, your wetness exploding, and you start crying before he lets up.

Your blubber becomes laughter, and he is soft as he lies you down, massaging your thighs as you twitched. He hovers above you, running gentle hands across your arms, kneading through skin, before he reaches your face. He's still in most of his clothes, his long white shirt and breeches, but his mouth is covered in your wetness before he wipes it, obscene in the prettiness of his face and messy locks from where you had tugged and grabbed.

He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, so close to your body, all too tangled in your soul, and can feel his hard cock upright and wanting against your belly, but he pays it no mind. Concern mars his features as he brushes down your hair.

"Are you alright, my love? Too much?"

You shake your head, brushing your hand down his chest. "N-no, I am well. I just never did that before."

He smiles, kissing your closed eyelids before he brings you close to his chest, cuddling you deep. "You deserve all the pleasure I can give you," he says against your hair. "I have been gone far too long. Consider it my apology."

You hum, eyes open. "Apology for what? You were doing your duty, nothing more, ñuha zaldrīzes, my dragon." You feel him stiffen as you keep your voice soft, caring. "I understand duty far better than you. It is what I love most about you."

You look up, taking his chin between your fingertips as you stared at those warm, brown eyes. "You, who carries your honour like a shield and your duty like a sword. I feel as if the gods had blessed me a husband far better than I should have had for I know I do not deserve you."

"H-how can you say that? You are—" He swallows. "— You are the most excellent woman. The mother of my children. You... You are the one I do not deserve."

Your head falls back against his chest, gripping his shirt. Only by your teeth had you stop yourself from screaming.

You curdle, you keep, you poise.

"My love?"

But you pay him no mind, pushing him on his back as you straddle him, your hands working quick to unlace his breeches until his cock slaps against his stomach, end red and swollen. A sharp hiss falls from his lips as your hand tugs on it once. Twice.

He calls your name, spits it really, eyes blown with lust as he holds your waist, unsure if he should lift you off him or grind you against his aching cock.

"I want you inside me," you whimper, plead, feeling his cock twitch at your words, your false, yearning gaze. He mistakes the burned tears of anger in your eyes as unbridled want. "I have gone so long without your warmth, your cock, swelling inside me, your seed nestling deep, taking root—"

"Yes," he gasps, fingers digging into your doughy sides, pulling you up, moving you around whilst you grabbed his length and directed inside your wet, hot cunt inch by inch, filling you so thickly you can feel him in your throat. It takes time, patience and grit, but you're wet enough and you're determined. Once he's fully inside of you through a choked moan of your own, his neck arches, head thrown back. "Fuck! Yes, y-yes, there you are, my g-good fucking girl."

You move slow at first, taking him, bracing one hand on his knee, almost testing the feel him of back in the familiar contours of your cunt. Veins pop between each groan and choke that shudders through him whilst praise, your name, the possessive titles— my love, my wife, my princess — is spit in between.

When the heat tightens in your belly, you shift positions, placing both palms on his chest, and riding him without abandon, bouncing up and down as you watch with a sharp eye as his release builds. His hips move on their own, fucking up in you as you meet his thrusts with equal vigour, and it's delicious. It's heated. You grind your swollen folds against his mon and your cries make him thrust up harder into you, calling your name, denting your doughy hips.

You don't stop, your pleasure at the back of your mind, wanting him to unravel, to break— a final cry of your name dissolving into a choked moan, spilling his seed deep inside, the continuous snap of his hips digging it deeper into your womb.

But your last peak is still tightening, so you press a quick kiss on his chest, a bite really, before you continue to chase your own high, a hiss slipping his lips but moving your hips with his iron-grip, stutters of, "d-do it, reach your high, f-fuck! fuck!"— Your head throws back, nails digging his skin as your cunt clenches his cock in a vice grip, forcing his hips to snap up once more, twice, until you fall, slumping against him.

When he kisses the top of your head, murmuring words you ignore, you close your eyes.

Your plan is in motion. The missive will be sent to the Lord Stark, in pursuit of an innocent friendship. The spiders you have placed on the Northern bastard are set, and a dragon flies in Dragonstone with your bond in its blood.

Your Jace is home. He will fall in love with you all over again. His wonderful daughters and darling princess, he will regret the events that have transpired in the cold. In his head, he will make promises to do better, to be better, that whatever happened is a blip. A mistake that will not happen again. but you know, he will trip. He will wander once more.

But you will make sure that the next time he does so, he will regret it for the rest of his days.

Because it is not you who will burn Winterfell to the ground.

It will be him.

Your plan moves, your web is perfect.

Now, the spider waits for the idiot fucking flies to feed on.

TAGGED: @inkareds @marihoneywk @caterina-caterina @ahristata @xxvelvetxxxx @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @bunbunbl0gs @yazzzmints @bellstwd @hiraethrhapsody

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #dark!reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys fanfic #jacaerys fanfiction #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#₊˚ପ⊹ hightower green 🕷

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yanderes-galore · 2 months ago

Note

Fandom: HOTD

Characters: Aemond Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen

Pairing: Rivalry (romantic for both)

Type of fic: Concept

Extra info: Both Aemond and Aegon start to take notice of maid!Darling. I was thinking Darling being / becoming a handmaid of,, Helaena for example, could be a way for both Aegon and Aemond to have a way to constantly see Darling, thus letting their obsession grow even more

-🥝 anon 🤎🤎

Poor girl just trying to do her job only to have two princes after her....

Yandere! Aemond Targaryen vs Aegon II Targaryen with Maid! Darling

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Violence, Mature themes, Harassment/Unwanted affection, Murder, Targcest (Aegon and Helaena due to canon), Forced relationship(s)

Being Helaena's handmaid is usually a quiet job.

The woman often keeps to herself, muttering to herself as she plays with her insects.

You clean, speak to her, and act as a companion to the Targaryen princess.

You're around the same age and are always at her side.

However, this naturally gets you in contact with her siblings.

Both princes are bad in their own ways.

Aegon is bad because he's... touchy.

Aegon is infamous for bedding any woman he has access to.

Maids, brothels, any woman.

Which means you are constantly hit on, courted, and cornered when around Aegon.

Aemond is much better in this regard.

While he is similar to Daemon, his uncle, in many ways...

Aemond does not have the hedonism his uncle and brother have.

No... But he does have the very same bloodlust Daemon does.

Meaning he tends to duel (or straight up murder) those he thinks are too close.

So... both brothers are bad in their own right towards their obsession.

Them in a rivalry? Well, based on what I've seen and written...

Sibling rivalries within the Targaryen dynasty are quite dangerous.

Or any family at all in ASOIAF.

Would the two murder one another? Aemond might.

However, he knows better than just doing it.

He'd want to frame it as an accident or frame it on someone else.

An example of this in canon is during Season 2 of the show with Aegon vs Rhaenys.

He felt he could get away with burning Aegon with Vhagar during the battle.

And if Criston Cole didn't catch him?

He probably would've finished the job.

Now, would Aegon?

He seems to be the one more likely to tease or threaten, but not entirely follow through.

However, both princes are still dangerous and possessive.

It just appears Aemond, ironically the one who isn't trying to bed you every five seconds, happens to be the biggest threat.

I want to add spice to this request and say Helaena would try to support and protect you from her brothers.

Although... Her character isn't very... assertive.

She would probably try to keep you away from her brothers.

Yet Aegon would ignore her, trying to pull you away, saying you'd serve him better as his servant.

While Aemond may compromise, allowing Helaena to stay beside you while Aemond has your company.

Aegon's yandere behavior is both dominant and submissive I feel.

He can be intimidating, yet alone with his obsession and if you play your cards right?

Putty.

Aemond, however, is just dominant...

He's more attentive to your needs but is controlling.

Naturally, though, both princes like the idea of controlling a maid darling.

All while Helaena pities and worries for you... as when the rivalry occurs, you're barely attending to her.

Both brothers are affectionate in their own ways.

Aegon likes to corrupt you, offering pleasure and gifts to make you like him more.

While Aemond tries to be more of a chaste gentleman, still giving you gifts but often offering dances or walks.

Occasionally you're around to watch their sword practices... and the two destroy one another when they notice you're there.

Ser Criston Cole has to pull the maway from one another, both men bleeding and fighting like moody teens.

Alicent grows increasingly concerned that her two eldest sons are fighting over a handmaid.

She's been trying to work on betrothals for them in order to help them stay on track.

Yet both princes keep clinging around you while Helaena begs her mother to help her.

Helaena considers you a friend since youth, she just wants you happy.

She can tell you're overwhelmed by her brothers' infatuation over you.

You may be a simple maid, a woman made to serve...

But the princes don't care.

They want your hand regardless.

This is strange for both of them, especially Aegon who never even considered marriage for a long time.

The only reason Aegon begins to accept Alicent betrothing him to Helaena is because he has better access to you.

Which just makes Aemond more determined to marry you, begging Alicent to betroth you both so Aegon can be kept away.

You begin to wonder if you'd make better money somewhere else... serving some lord far from King's Landing.

Alas... fate isn't merciful to you.

As war eventually comes to be, more attempts at kinslaying come up.

During The Dance... Aegon is crowned king and Aemond is meant to serve him with his dragon Vhagar.

However, the two are still planning on keeping you to themselves.

Aegon may have more opportunities to keep you to himself, much to Helaena's dismay...

But the two brothers still have each other to deal with.

As more battles begin, the two siblings start plotting betrayal.

In fact, if we want to follow canon, Aemond may get Aegon back by burning him.

With Aegon bedridden or dead... and Aemond in power...

You'd belong to Aemond.

Although... maybe you want an alternate timeline, where Aemond is assassinated either by Aegon's order or Daemon's...

Allowing Aegon to keep you as his beloved maid.

Either way... it looks like you'll be stuck with one of them in the end.

Hopefully The Blacks will win against The Greens...

Maybe then you'll be freed from the twisted princes... maybe then you can go back to your old life with both of them dead.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere asoiaf #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere aegon ii targaryen

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holy-harkers-47 · 3 months ago

Text

clemmie headcanons !!!

according to cole, their laugh sounds like bells

tends to get very very cold very easily

^^ always has cold hands

friend of all bugs

used to do ballet, still dabbles in it sometimes

doesn't like their hair being touched, unless it's by cole or perrine. perrine bc they trust them, and cole bc they're very tender-handed, and knows how to be careful and gentle

loves loves loves sweets !!! esp pastries

loves humming to cole's guitalele

very close friends w/ perrine, tends to confide in them abt cole

doesn't cry easily, but will start sobbing if cole accidently hurts their feelings :[

tends to be a bit bratty due to their childhood, and being raised in a very rich household

'speaks to the wind' and 'sings to the mountains'

big fan of bows, ruffles, lace, bells, etc <3

is insanely flexible

always smells like wildflowers

^^ speaking of which, loves flowers- esp getting to braid cole's hair with them / tucking them into cole's shirts ( says it makes them look handsome <3 )

^^ they also regularly give cole flowers they think look pretty / neat (cole presses and dries them, and then puts them in their notebooks <33)

commonly gets dizzy / faint

paints / decorates cole's guitalele sometimes

loves tea parties. the others don't really like them, but they like clémmie to be happy, so they participate

collects stuffed animals ( esp ones with big black / brown eyes )

very very neat

occasionally goes nonverbal due to trauma

^^ uses sign language to communicate when this happens

likes to read in their free time, has a small library in their room

total hopeless romantic

often labeled as a 'child prodigy' or 'artistic / musical genius'

hates eating meat. diet is mostly made up of fruit, pasta, cheese, and bread, but they will eat other things if offered ! only dietary restriction is meat

their name, clémentine, means merciful or gentle :]

first language is french ! they tend to forget some english words, and asks perrine what the word is ( perrine learned french for them <3)

cannot go an hour without chapstick. hates hates hates having dry lips

^^ same goes for lotion. hates having dry skin, so they always carry a small tube with them ( for themselves + the rest of the lark )

loves their nose and smile !!! makes them feel different and pretty :]]

has a very small appetite. usually only finishes one plate, or less than one. offers the rest of their food up, mostly taken by cole or kingsley. kingley will take it without thinking twice, but cole typically hesitates ; "are you okay ? are you sure i can have this ?"

loves loves loves making desserts, esp for cole !

not a morning person. loves their beauty sleep

huge fan of people watching and bird watching

^^ has a huge window on the wall their bed is pushed up against, so they can watch the others (if they're out) or the birds before getting up !

all of their shoes (aside from the ones they usually wear) are mary janes

prefers fem / neu compliments (ex. beautiful, pretty, etc.)

painted / sculpted all of their masks

curls their hair around their fingers when anxious

has extreme hair shrinkage, and when they fully stretch their hair out, it goes down to about their mid back

cole knows origami, and makes clémmie lots of little origami animals

daydreams a lot

gives out kisses / affection to the rest of the lark. lots of forehead / cheek / hand kisses + cuddles to everyone who wants em

is 4'11, 5'0 with their shoes on.

affectionate headbutts.

caution ; slight angst below !!

is used to being dehumanized / treated like an object due to their parents and childhood

^^ father generally treated them as a muse for his dolls, as well as treating them similarly to a doll ( dressing them up in lace / ruffles / bows / etc., and being extremely paranoid about clémmie's 'fragility' )

mother always put them on a pedestal and showed them off, as well as making efforts to keep clémmie quiet ( essentially making sure they knew that they didn't have their own feelings / thoughts )

doesn't like the words 'ladybug,' 'bumblebee,' or 'butterfly' as nicknames, esp when referring to them. all three are nicknames their dad had for them :[

^^ on a similar note, doesn't like being compared to dolls. (ex. 'you're pretty as a doll', referring to them as 'doll,' etc.)

more may be added later (might be in a reblog, might be just editing this post ! <3)

. * ° 🐇 🪕 🌾 ° * .

!! before commenting / tagging on this post, please know that clémentine uses neutral pronouns, and she / her or he / him pronouns are not appreciated when referring to them !! :[

#cole yaelokre #colentine #harpy hare #hayfields #meadowlark #yaelokre #perrine meadowlark #cole meadowlark #kingsley meadowlark #clementine meadowlark #clementine yaelokre #kingsley yaelokre #perrine yaelokre #yaelokre clementine #yaelokre cole #yaelokre kingsley #yaelokre perrine #keath osk

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mouwrites · 9 months ago

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Hopefully requests are open and if they aren’t then please ignore my ask!! I would like to request if you could write a platonic ninjago x younger sibling!reader where the Reader is basically the crying child from fnaf? A crybaby, easily scared and clingy in a sense that they only feel safe with the ninja or their older brother, if you cant do this then you are free to ignore this ask, Have a very nice day/night or evening where you are!

Here you are my darling! I hope you have a lovely day/night too! :D

Ninjago - Ninjas With a Sensitive Little Sibling

Kai

He's already a protective older brother, but with you being so sensitive, he's ultra-protective

Even when people are being nice to you he's hovering carefully, making sure they don't do anything that might hurt you

Not that he really needs to hover; you usually stick to his side anyway

Maybe that's also why he gets worried when you're on your own, though... he's not used to not having you nearby

Whenever he's forced to leave you, he makes sure you're in good hands (i.e. with the other ninja) first

He knows you're sensitive, but he's still Kai; you're not escaping a little sibling conflict

Sometimes he gets annoyed when you follow him around too much, and he'll get all quiet

He knows why you do it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't irritate him a bit

There have been times during which he'd snap and tell you to go find someone else to follow around

If/when that makes you cry, though, he does a complete 180 turn

He crouches down to your level, smoothing your head and frantically telling you he didn't mean it

"Aw, Y/n, please don't cry! I didn't mean it..! Please don't cry!"

Then he'll give you a piggyback if you want it, entirely forgetting his earlier desire to be alone

Cole

He's also pretty protective, but he's more focused on your character and emotions than actually defending you from the world

What I mean is that he'll watch for when you're upset, and when you do get upset he'll take the opportunity to try and build a little character

He's super gentle and always supportive, of course, but at the same time he wants you to grow

So when you cry, he'll hug you until you're calm but then he'll try and talk it out with you

"What made you upset?" ... "Why do you think that upset you?" ... "How can we make sure that doesn't happen again?"

I think he's just really emotionally mature, and he'd want his little sibling to have that maturity, too

Of course, he doesn't force it on you; you're just a kid after all

But he tries to get you on the right path

He still gives you lots of affection though, and is always checking to make sure you're comfortable

When you have to separate, he does try to leave you with one of the other ninja, but if he can't he'll offer lots of reassurance that he'll be right back

He'll be so proud if you're able to be alone for a bit!!

All in all he's just super supportive regarding your needs, but also wants you to learn and grow

Jay

Out of all the ninjas, he coddles you the most

When someone makes you cry he's on them like a feral cat

Once he's satisfied that they've gotten what they deserved (or when they're done beating his ass 💀) he'll come to check on you

He's a little scatterbrained, so he doesn't always remember that you're fragile

Sometimes he'll accidentally make a backhanded comment or leave you all on your own

When he realizes his mistake he flies into a panic, especially if he's mid-mission and remembers that you're alone

He hates seeing you cry, and just the thought of it makes his stomach churn

He always gives you the tightest hug when he realizes his mistake/gets reunited with you, apologizing a million times

Honestly he's more upset about it than you are

Long after you've stopped crying, he's still apologizing (and probably crying a little himself)

Just call him a crybaby and he'll stop on the dot

He'll just stand up and furrow his brows

"Okay, I see how it is. I was all worried about my little Y/n and now they're making fun of me. I guess that's what I get!"

(You're both able to laugh about it, dw)

Zane

As has been established, he's not the most emotionally intelligent out of all the ninjas

Sometimes he struggles to know what he's feeling himself; your emotions are a whole other realm to him

That doesn't mean he can't tell when you're upset, though

Whenever you start to whimper or cry he's at your side in a second, holding your shoulder affirmingly

He's not always sure what to say, but if you want to hug him he'll hug you back

He'll patiently wait for you to calm down, then he'll try to understand why you were upset

"Um, do you know why... what... made you... cry..?"

Be patient with him, I promise he's trying 😭

He starts to learn after a while which things upset you most, and he starts to look out for them whenever you're with him

Whenever he spots one of those things, he's already hurrying to your side before you even start crying

He feels really proud whenever he's able to catch a fit before it happens :)

Honestly, as protective as he feels towards you, he sometimes wonders if you're better off with the other ninjas

You're just so emotional, and he feels like the other ninjas might understand you better

He actually sometimes looks to them to help calm you down

But ultimately he does prefer to be the one to help you, both because he feels responsible and because he loves you the most

Lloyd

He was a pretty rowdy kid when he was your age, so he has a little trouble understanding you

He was rude where you're sensitive, he was cruel where you're gentle... when he thinks of you compared to his younger self, it's like night and day

So he doesn't always catch things that might make you cry

(makes it a little hard to be protective when you don't know which things to be protective about...)

Only when someone else points them out, or when he hears your high-pitched whine, does he realize that you've been upset

He'll rub your back and try to calm you down, but honestly he's a little apprehensive

Like I said, he can't really relate, so he struggles to empathize

That doesn't mean he won't try, though

He'll give you a hug and tell you everything is fine, but he's not sure if he's actually being helpful

"Hey, hey, it's okay..! Here, give me a hug!"

He just feels really bad for you, especially because of this

He asks the others for advice sometimes, trying to understand what it might've been like to be a kid who spent more time being afraid and gentle than trying to be tough and evil

They always assure him that he's doing a great job, with him being so great at showing kindness already

He still doubts himself, and he probably always will, but he'll never stop trying to be there for you

Nya

If you were anyone else's sibling, or just a random kid, Nya would absolutely coddle you

She'd be the most protective person ever, always at your side, ready to defend you from the world

But since you're a Smith...

Sorry, you're getting none of that

She'll never berate you or anything, but every time you start to have a breakdown, she tries to get you to toughen up a little

"Come on, my Y/n, dry those tears. It's not that bad. I'm here."

She'll still be hugging you anyway while she says this

The way she sees it, Kai can do the babying, and she can do the actual teaching

Though she can't help the distaste she feels whenever Kai treats you like a baby

She's talked to him before about getting you to grow up a little, and he does agree that you can't always be this sensitive

From then on they work together to find the balance between comforting you and toughening you up

(Kai still does most of the comforting and Nya still does most of the toughening)

She knows what it's like to be the "weaker" sibling, and she doesn't want that for you–not now, not ever

She'll even give you fighting lessons if it makes you feel stronger :D (tbh she probably will anyway)

Thank you so much for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

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lvndrfucks · 1 month ago

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ lil cole preston blurbs｡˚💌 ࣪𖤐💐

➤ no doubt you took the longest to get ready between you and cole. all he had to do was change his clothes, but you were in the middle of applying your makeup. a very tentative and rigorous progress. it was often frustrating at times, as well.

from the bed of your guys’ shared apartment, cole observed your routine. he laid on his stomach with his chin resting on the palm of his hand and disregarded phone in the other.

“can i try putting your mascara on you?”

the question surprised you. you glanced at him through the vanity mirror before turning around with a small smile.

“sure.”

he sprung up and took your place on the chair. your legs settled on either side of his lap. he kept both hands on your hips as you swiveled around to curl your lashes first. then, you held out the mascara. before he could grab it, you pulled away.

“be careful.” you narrowed your eyes playfully.

cole scoffed. “careful is my middle name.”

you hummed and let him take the mascara. he opened the tube and removed the excess on the edge. he placed his thumb and index finger on your chin to tilt your head up slightly.

you looked up at the ceiling as he applied the mascara softly to your lashes. you kept your hands wrapped around his stomach gently, your fingers ghosting up and down his sides.

it took a minute until he finished.

“is that good?”

you turned around to look in the mirror. “it’s amazing, my love.” you could see his smile of relief in the reflection. “do you want to do my other eye or should i just walk out like this?”

cole’s eyes squinted in thought. “i think you still look beautiful like this. really rocking the cyclops look.” he laughed as you slapped his shoulder gently. “okay, okay, come here.”

and the process started all over.

➤ during interviews, cole’s attention was mainly on you. even if you weren’t the one speaking. you guys often sat next to each other. he found your presence very comforting, as you did for his. you often stayed quiet unless spoken to. he would notice the look on your face when you had something to say and would redirect the attention towards you.

“we’re just very excited to see the fans on tour again,” dylan concluded after the question.

you nodded along, your jaw unconsciously clenching.

cole spoke your name. “did you want to add something?”

you looked at him, then braeden and dylan who were already staring back at you. “oh, um…” you were suddenly flustered at the attention. the boys laughed lightly, but let you have your moment to speak.

or when you retold tales from the past, cole enjoyed how animated you were. you had a habit of using your hands to speak and your voice progressively would get louder the more excited you talked. he always found everything you said funny.

“i think that was the maddest i’ve ever seen you,” braeden said to you during an interview. “like you were hardcore defending cole.”

“because he accused him of being on drugs!” your voice bursted. cole covered his face, but it was obvious he was smiling. “the bouncer was like ‘i saw what you were doing with your hands back there,” you deepened your voice to imitate him, “and i was like ‘what we were doing was waiting two fucking hours to get into this stupid club.’ i was so upset that night. i felt like a mother defending their kids.”

the four laughed at the memory.

➤ “i can’t believe you’ve never seen the lego movie.” your face held a look of disbelief at cole.

he couldn’t help but laugh. “i’ve heard of it, but i guess i never found the time to watch it.”

“unacceptable.” you shook your head. “we’re going to watch it right now and you’re going to enjoy every second of it. i’ll go make the popcorn.” you swiftly kissed his cheek before running off to the kitchen.

truth was, cole had seen the movie with braeden long ago when it first came out. he remembered being so annoyed at the fact he wouldn’t stop singing everything is awesome. cole knew it was one of your favorite movies, though, and didn’t mind reacting as if he was watching for the first time again.

➤ the band was in the studio recording a track for the new album. you had to admit these were moments where you got stressed the most. you wanted it to be perfect, just as the rest of the boys.

you were currently sitting at the piano, trying to figure out the melody to one of the songs. you played certain keys over and over again to get it right, but none of it appealed to you.

cole looked at you from across the room just as you ran your hands over your face. he stood from his drum set to make his way over. he sat so he was straddling the piano bench, facing your side.

“you okay?” his hand rubbed over your back in soothing circles.

you nodded with a heavy sigh. “yeah. it’s just not going like how i imagined.”

he nodded understandingly and stayed quiet while you continued to work. you hummed the lyrics under your breath from time to time and took notes on the sheets of paper scattered across the piano. cole knew better than to interject. of course, you loved hearing feedback to improve, but he could tell now wasn’t the right time. this was something you wanted to figure out on your own, for now.

when you rubbed your eyes again, that’s when he stepped in.

“do you want to take a break?” he asked.

you shook your head, fighting off a yawn. “i just have the bridge to finish.”

“hey. let me see.” at first, you thought he meant the music, but instead, he grabbed your chin to make you face him. “your eyes are getting red. probably from rubbing them so much. have you eaten?”

“cole, i don’t want to eat right now.”

“that’s not what i asked.” your brows furrowed as your lips pouted. he gave you a knowing look. “we’re going to get something to eat, then i’ll help you finish the bridge. okay?”

you didn’t answer. your shoulders falling in defeat spoke for itself. he leaned over to kiss your temple before standing.

“hey, we’re gonna go get some food,” cole announced. “do you guys want anything?”

“oh, my god, yes!” braeden was relieved to hear that. “my stomach’s been growling for the last ten minutes. i was ready to add it to the track.”

he told cole what he wanted, then dylan afterwards. cole nodded and grabbed his keys. he looked at you, nodding towards the door. with a quiet groan, you peeled yourself off the bench and followed after him.

in the car, it was hard not to fall asleep right then and there. your head lulled against the window as you struggled to keep your eyes open. cole’s gentle massaging on your knee didn’t help either. you didn’t even process you were at the drive-thru already. thankfully, cole already knew your order.

back at the studio, braeden and dylan eagerly dug into their food. you and cole sat on the couch together as the two of you ate quietly. by the time you finished, you had let out a big yawn you’d been holding in. you let yourself nestle further into cole’s your sweatshirt with your arms wrapping around your stomach.

cole looked back to see you had already dozed off. he chuckled to himself and readjusted you so you were properly laying down. he grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch to cover your body. he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

#wallows #wallows imagine #wallows x reader #cole preston #cole preston imagine #cole preston x reader #dylan minnette #dylan minnette imagine #dylan minnette x reader #braeden lemasters #braeden lemasters imagine #braeden lemasters x reader

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cookii-moon · 9 months ago

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ok ok so. I had.i had this thought. And I think it’d be really funny but only in the right situations.

so imagine if Cole could feel vibrations through the earth, right? Since that makes sense, and a lot of animals can do that anyways. but he doesn’t clock it as a master of earth thing. So he thinks it’s just. Like that for everybody.

so imagine he’s like sneaking around with the group, and to them, they’re like, the stealthiest ever!!! But since they’re so close Cole can sort of “hear” the vibrations of their steps so he’s like what the heck guys youre not stealthy at all we’re gonna get our cover blown!!!!! Because. He thinks they’re being really noisy. But really it’s just him that can hear them.

And ofc the others would be sort of like. Dude. We’re not making a single sound!!!, because to them they’re being very quiet, and so it’s sort of shrugged off as just. A Cole thing.

but snakes can also feel vibrations. So when the serpentine come up, imagine if they can ALSO hear the ninja and are just like smh you’re not good at sneaking at all. And obviously they’re really upset about this but also Cole is just taking it as an opportunity to go “i told you so”, the ninja STILL can’t hear their own or eachothers footsteps so they have no clue what’s up, but whatever, we’ll trust Cole!!!!

AND THEN JAY GETS SERPENTINE’D. And for a short while he can ALSO hear vibrations. So he’s like. Really confused before he notices, like wow,,,, I guess I just wasn’t listening well before!!! And then he realizes he’s becoming a snake, but he doesn’t connect the two until he turns back and suddenly he can’t hear it at all, and so now he’s 100% convinced that actually he was always right and Cole was always wrong and that no that’s just a serpentine thing.

but see now he’s just confused as to why Cole can feel them, because at that point they aren’t aware that the elemental powers weren’t just their weapons, and Cole’s been feeling them since day 1, but the fangpyre only got released recently and Cole’s been perfectly normal for the entire time he’s known him so like, he’s definitely not bitten or anything, so now he’s trying to argue with Cole that, no, they’re not loud, they’re being very stealthy, that’s just a serpentine thing and APPARENTLY also a Cole thing, no he does not know how they’re connected, and ALSO that Cole was JUST as loud as the others and he knows that because he could feel Cole’s footsteps too for a short time so he has ZERO right to bother Jay about it.

And like eventually itd just descends into a feud between Cole and Jay on whether theyre good at sneaking or not and the others just. Don’t even know at this point. They can’t be bothered. And then obviously they’ve found out Zane is a nindroid, so he can measure seismic and acoustic sounds, so he’d literally be able to tell, except he couldn’t be bothered getting involved, so the entire argument goes on for several seasons, up until the point where Jay asks Zane to help them figure it out and he’s just like. No that’s just a Cole thing he’s just hearing seismic frequencies lol. And jays just like. “WELL WHY DIDNT YOU TELL US THAT EARLIER?????”

And like at this point they would know about their powers so Cole would be forced to admit that no, he wasn’t right, he can just hear seismic frequencies, and by some chance, the very first villains they faced were serpentine who can also hear seismic frequencies, but for completely unrelated reasons. But he doesn’t want to admit that he’s been wrong for several years, so instead he’s decided that actually he was technically right and they weren’t stealthy during the serpentine fighting era because the serpentine COULD feel the vibrations thus making them not stealthy.

the others have decided that this is the best they’re ever going to get.

#ninjago #ninjago cole #cole ninjago #lego ninjago #jay walker #ninjago jay #serpentine #ninjago serpentine #ninjago headcanons #i guess????#sorry if this is incomprehensible idk I felt the need to type it out #This has been a thought of mine for several days now I have to get it out there #Please #do you see the potential

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aliaology · 1 year ago

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NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: yn makes it to michigan with her friend sabrina, shockingly, reconnecting with old friends and also bumping into bad memories.

series masterlist

you felt weird, the stares of others pouring heavily onto your body. you didn’t like it, the feeling, whatsoever. the crowd parted as you walked into the house. the memories from this house flooded through your mind, from running to your room away from jack, to even skinny dipping with him in the lake.

you watched cole leap up and made his way to you, leaving a very uncomfortable jack and trevor behind. "bells! you made it" he grinned.

the shorter boy threw his arms around you in happiness. "hey coley, i told you i'd be here" you smiled, hugging him back.

"i know but it's just, unreal! i haven't seen you in forever!" he smiled.

you frowned. "im sorry cole, ive been really busy in toronto and it doesn't help that i feel so out of place in michigan now.." you trailed off.

"dont sweat it, bells. im just glad you're here" he smiled at you. "how long are you staying here for?" he asked.

"well— sab leaves tomorrow, im staying to get my dorm situated back at umich" you told. cole nodded.

"get lunch with me tomorrow then? i want to catch up" you just nodded before hearing your name get called. looking behind you, you see some of jack's teammates.

jack's teammates, john marino and nico hischier always liked you. hell, you still talked to them to ask how games went and just how they were.

"ill talk to you later coley" you grinned.

cole nodded and went back to trevor and jack. trevor held a sour look on his face while jack looked pissed. you grabbed sab’s arm and brought her with you to john and nico.

"hi johnny, hi nico" you smiled at them, giving them each hugs once you got to them. "its been awhile." you added.

"seriously, a long time. have you been in toronto the entire time?" john asked.

you nodded. "yeah, i moved in with my brother. im with him for just two more weeks until i move into my new apartment." you smiled.

"really? where you moving to?" nico asked.

"new york, actually." you grinned. "maybe ill drive over to nj and pop in."

nico grinned, "i'd be careful with that one, y/n. i cant lie, jacks been in a little bit of a twist since your song came out." he spoke.

john nodded. "more standoff-ish, but he had it coming.”

you heard sab snort from behind you, causing you to grin along. "sorry its just— one of my songs ends with ‘he had it coming’ and it reminded me of that.” sabrina spoke.

"its okay— how have you both been?” nico asked. you looked at sabrina with a hesitation glint in your eyes. she just sent you a nod.

“ive been— okay? uhm, just a lot going on currently. very stressed i dont know— i just cant wait to get back to umich.” you explained.

“and i have to go back to LA tomorrow so i have to soak my time up with my girl.” sabrina grinned, tossing an arm around your neck.

"uh oh— warning, trevor is on his way over.” john said, bringing his cup to his mouth to quiet his words before taking a sip of whatever alcoholic drink he had.

you tensed up slightly, not turning your head, you kept close to sabrina.

"what up guys, how you enjoying the party? cole's wondering." trevor faked a smile.

"oh, very fun if i do say so myself." sabrina sarcastically spoke.

you nudged her slightly, elbowing her in the side. she sent you a glare, basically stating ‘cut the shit.’

trevor sarcastically smiled. "well isn't that just peachy? anyone here finding someone to go home with tonight? i know it shouldn't be too hard for some of you."

you grab nico's drink, sipping it yourself. "maybe— i heard that dixie girl is single, might ask her to go home with me.” you shrugged.

the four guys went completely silent. you coughed, "anyone up for another drink? i think i need to get drunk tonight." and you walked away.

“oh my god” sabrina laughed, immediately going after you.

“fucking bitch”

trevor scoffed, walking away in anger. john and nico looked at each other, wide eyes. "holy shit."

lol hey... this sucked but hey! tags: @honethatty12 , @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lovinbarzal , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @shadowsndaisies @lxnceclercs

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl hockey #new jersey #quinn hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x y/n #trevor zegras #mitch marner #auston matthews #toronto maple leafs #now that we don't talk

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notmyprey · 1 month ago

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Annon sent me an ask with a lot of Ninjagº sfw vore prompts, and this one caught my eye specifically, and I want to dedicate a post to it.

I dont have time to draw much, but yall can have a short story-

(Also, wanna preface this with: no, I dont ship Lloyd and Kai. They have a sibling bond imo, and idk it'd be kinda weird with the age gap for a lot of the show. But I'm not gonna send hate to those who do see it like that. Just know this is written with a sibling bond in mind.

Also, this is written abt Lloyd after he grew up and matured a bit. So like- season 5+ Lloyd)

Click

The sound was faint, yet Lloyd knew exactly what it meant. Drop, cover, and prey to the gods it wasn't aimed towards you. Not even a moment after he dove behind the nearest bolder did he hear the thundering boom followed by the bright flash. Wind rushed past him, throwing ash and debris his way. The deafening sound echoed through his very core. It never seemed to end, his body left still shaking minutes after it was done. The cavern bounced the noise, rolling it off one wall and onto the next. It felt like it lasted ages within the few minutes it actually occurred.

The fighting, the punching, the swords, and the guns, all of these never fazed him. But explosions? Those were his weaknesses. His mind would always race back to his past and, consequently, his father. Lloyd didnt know exactly why it reminded him of his dad, but the fact that, like his father, an explosion would hurt anyone, even those on its own side, seemed to be a part of it.

The cavern soon quieted down, but his fear did not. The images of his father still fresh in his mind. He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of the haze he was in.

Him and Kai had gone into a cavern alone since there were 3 diverging paths. Up until now, we had only encountered arrow traps and small pits. But this? This was a new threat.

Was it over, the blast? He wondered, slowly inching towards the edge of the rock. He turned his head, looking for the brightness that would signal it was not over, yet all he was met with was dark.

He peered his head around the bolder, scanning for any sight of Kai. The smoke and ash coated his vision, making it ever more difficult to locate him. After a moment, though, he spotted Kai's fiery red suit. No matter how quickly he wanted to rush over to him, he needed to keep low as to breathe in the least amount of smoke, and he needed to scan for any more explosive traps. So, as such, he slowly inched his way along the cave floor.

By the time he made it to Kai, he could see Kai was in bad condition. His breathing was uneven, meaning he probably breathed in a lot of smoke and ash, and although he didn't seem to have any burns, he still had a lot of cuts and bruises from flying rocks.

Lloyd turned his gaze upward once more, showing the smoke had mostly cleared now. Normally, he would call Cole, Zane, or even Kai over, and one of them would be able to swallow whoever was hurt down. But now, there was no one else but him and the now injured Kai.

He forced his head back towards Kai, who had now opened his eyes. "Hey," Lloyd started, unsure of how to even approach this, "uh... how are you feeling."

A small smile tugged at Kai's lips, even through the pain. "I-", he devolved into a short coughing fit but slowly gained his ability to speak once more, "I have been better." He had to stop to take a breath after every word, something that worried Lloyd further.

Lloyd nodded and continued to fumble over his words. "I... I think it's maybe best... maybe if I..."

"It's ok, do what you have to do, kid." Kai gave a weak but reassuring smile, which gave Lloyd that little extra confidence he needed to continue. Kai knew what had to happen, and Lloyd did too. Kai couldn't stay on the ground here, and Lloyd couldn't carry him either for fear of hurting him further.

Taking a deep breath in, Lloyd stretched his arms out above Kai, holding his palms down, and his fingers stretched out as well. He softly recited the words taught to him. He himself had only done this twice before, but both times were in a controlled setting, and neither times had he actually been the one to eat the person that was shrunken down. Green light fluttered down from his palms, brushing downward with grace. As he finished, he saw Kai quickly start to shrink down.

Soon, Kai was a bit shorter than Lloyds hand from top to bottom. It was strange, seeing Kai so small and fragile. In his mind, Kai was his stronger older brother, the one who had always taken care of him. And now, Lloyd had to be the one to take care of Kai.

He pried Kai off the ground, gently rolling him into his hands and carefully curling his fingers a bit to create a barrier so Kai wouldn't roll immediately off his hands. He lifted Kai to his face, prompting a small groan to come from Kai, who was probably in a lot of pain now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

Now that he was face to face with Kai, Lloyd felt the need to say something. Cole and Jay normally said some sort of joke before eating someone, and Zane normally comforted them, but Kai, he would say something motivational. Perhaps that's why Lloyd always gave so many motivational speeches before missions.

Right now, though, as he thought on what to say, he found that he couldn't really say anything. He was speechless. He couldn't find the words to say to make Kai more comfortable. So he didn't. Instead, he gently brought Kai to his chest, giving him a sort of hug, and held him there for a moment. Kai's breathing slowed, and just for a moment, it felt as though everything was alright again.

Lloyd brought Kai back up to his face, smiling once more before gathering up the courage to open his mouth.

He maneuvered his hands, allowing him to slowly slide Kai onto his tongue. Immediately, Lloyd tasted blood and ashes on Kai's suit. He had to stop himself from gagging. Fighting every instinct that told Lloyd not to eat Kai, he slid him further into his mouth. Finally, only Kai's feet remained outside his lips, but due to how small his mouth is, he couldn't slip them inside without beginning to swallow Kai first. No matter what he did, Lloyd couldn't seem to get any saliva on Kai, his mouth joining in on telling him not to eat what his body must think is poison.

Regaurdless, he took a loud, thick swallow. Although it didn't do much, it did succeed in sending Kai's head into his throat and Kai's feet into his mouth. He promptly clamped his mouth shut behind him and desperately tried to get any amount of saliva in his dry mouth to coat Kai with.

It was horriblely uncomfortable having just a small portion of Kai in his throat. It kept triggering his need to swallow, but he couldn't yet. He knew he needed Kai to be at least lightly coated in drool to get him down, as learned from Jay not doing that once and nearly choking. Finally, after what seemed like too long, his mouth decided to cooperate, drenching Kai in thick goopy saliva.

He gave in to the instinct to swallow, almost happy to get rid of the unpleasant feeling of having someone on the edge of his throat. Kai slipped deeper into Lloyds throat, his muscles idly helping him along. With each gulp, Kai slipped further out of his mouth until finally he was gone. Now, a great lump sat in the middle of his throat. As he continued swallowing, Kai drifted deeper and deeper within him. When Kai went past his heart, he couldn't help but stop breathing for a moment.

After a bit longer, Kai drifted even further down and now was nearing his stomach. Lloyd braced himself. All of his brothers had told him this was the strangest part, but what he felt no amount of his brothers describing could ever replicate. At first, the feeling was sickening. A sudden bout of pressure built up inside his stomach, and it wasn't exactly pleasant. But after that initial sickness came the feeling similar to a hug.

He could feel Kai pressing against his stomach much more than he had originally thought he would have been able to feel. His stomach stretched a bit to accommodate for Kai's presence, and it didn't feel unnatural. As the last of Kai finally slipped into his stomach, Lloyd brought his hand up to his middle.

Gently, he pressed where he felt Kai, and to his surprise, Kai, although weakly, pressed back. This small pressure sent a strange shiver up his spine. He was able to keep Kai safe, ever so so safe. Nothing could get to Kai without going through him first. All those years of Kai helping him, he was finally able to start to pay him back.

Not being able to help the small smile that tugged at his lips, Lloyd got up, continuing on down the cave in search of their mission.

So yah, sorry I kinda took the turn of, whether Lloyd wants to or not- but yeah I still loved this prompt and idk I may make more stories based off of this prompt alone lol.

#sfw vore #extreme cuddling #e a/t #n.injago vore #nomjago

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allkordelia · 9 months ago

Text

Keep Me Near Your Heart XV

"How's anyone seen, Daeron." I ask walking up to the table for breakfast, " I went to fetch him for breakfast, but he wasn't in his room." I look at Aemond as I stood beside his chair, his hand comes up to rub circles on my growing belly as he admires it with a smile.

"He's probably in the courtyard with Ser Cole," I frown at the mention at the knight, Aemond knock his hand against the chair next to him before pulling it out, "Come sit, my love." Aemond drag his hand down to tap the seat, I move from his other side to take the seat next to him.

The servants were quick to fill my plate with food before stepping back, Aemond move his hand from the table to put his hand on my stomach, his hand miss a few inches making me grab his hand and place it where he wanted it to do. Aemond's hand rested on my belly, the low chuckling from across the way made me look up with a death glare, Aegon swallow down his laughter when his eye connect with mine.

He looks away from me as he hide behind his cup, I roll my eyes and sat back in my chair.

The arrival of the babe was just a few weeks away, I would be happy about finally meeting my sweet child if it wasn't for the fact that the queen thought it be a good idea to send invitations to everyone in the family to come celebrate the arrival of the babe. I am still conflicted about having to see my mother and aunt after nearly a year of not talking, my mother I don't really care about but I am afraid of dealing with rhaelle since I promise her I write her every chance I get.

The sounds of the door opening from behind made me turn, Daeron stalk in with a upset look and not too far behind was Alicent and her trusted knight, Ser Cole, I watch as he pulled out a chair next to Aemond and cross his arms. I eye Daeron curiously before glancing at Alicent as she take her seat at the head of the table, she had a neutral look on her face as she got settle, I take a quick glance at Ser Cole before looking away.

It was quiet as we ate, only the sounds of forks scraping against the plates and the soft muttering from Helaena was the only thing that filled the air. It felt intense. I look at Aegon to see him eyeing Daeron, I squint before shifting in my chair making it creak.

"Is something wrong?" I look up and look at Alicent as she lean forward with her hand folded under her chin.

"N-no, just...trying to get comfy." Alicent hummed before leaning back and snapping her fingers.

"Go fetch the princess a more comfortable chair to eat in, please." Alicent commanded, but I spoke up stopping the servant from moving and alicent to look back at me.

"It's fine. I just need to stretch my legs," I lean forward a bit to look at daeron who was glaring at his food, "Daeron, do you wish to join me--"

"No." He bluntly said catching me off guard.

It was out of character for daeron to refuse to accompanying me, he usually be very happy to join but his harsh tone took me by surprise.

"Daeron." Alicemt called sternly, I glance at her as she gives a look to her youngest.

Daeron sigh with a growl and turn his head towards me, "Thank you for the offer but I must decline, jaenara." I frown.

"Are you sure--"

"Yes, I'm sure why wouldn't I be." He snapped, I gape at him taken back, "Can you leave me alone already." Aemond glare at him.

"Watch how you talk to my wife--"

"Shut up." He snapped again looking at his brother.

"Daeron!" Alicent hissed.

Daeron snap his head at his mother, he saw the look she was giving making him growl again and scoot his chair back.

"I'm going to godswood, no one bother me." He snips talking away from the table, I could help but stand and watch him leave the hall.

"What was that about." I ask to no one in particular as I stare at the door.

"He's just...moody," Alicent started making me glance at her as she sip from her cup, "All boys act like that at his age," I put my hand on my stomach with frown.

"I think you meant to say brat, mother." Aemond states looking at his plate as he stab his eggs, "A bit of discipline can fix that." He added.

"Your brother doesn't need any discipline, aemond. His just a child, if I remember you were the same when you were his age." Alicent took her cup again to put it to her lips as she looks at her son.

"Yeah, that's because someone took my eye out." He replied before shoving food into his mouth.

Alicent swallow her wine before clearing her throat and remaining silent, I look at aemond as I put my hand up to scatch at the back of neck near his hair making shudder slightly. His hand went to my lower back, rubbing it in a comforting way.

He thinks we are good, that our marriage is saved and secure. I thought it would be hard to pretend to love him again, but thanks to aemond and the baby inside me, it was easy for me to get my way nowadays.

"What was that, Aegon?" I snapped back to the present and glance between Aegon and Alicent as she stare at her with stern look.

"Nothing, mother. I do not know what I am saying I'm a bit drunk." Aegon replied with a small smirk as he swirl his wine in his cup.

I furrow my brows and look at helaena as she look at aegon with a sad frown, I tilt my head slightly trying to figure out what just happened.

"Hela." I called making the young princess look at me with wide eyes, "Do you wish to go for a walk with me?" Helaena gape for a second before closing her mouth and nodded, I smiled and held out my hand making her get up.

She took it and walk around the table to link our hands, I look at aemond as he wipe his mouth with the cloth.

"I'll be back in a few, husband. Do not forget that we going to visit the younglings later." I said pointly making him look up at me with a small smile.

"Of course, my love." I hum before binding down to kiss his cheek, he turn his head instead to capture my lips.

I pulled back smiling before stepping away from the table, helaena and I walk towards the double doors, I heard talking once we close the door. I didn't need to stay to hear what they were saying, if it was about daeron she will found out why the young boy has been in such a moody.

We walk through the garden hand and hand, I gaze at the different colors of flowers as helaena stare off in her own head.

"Helaena." I called as I stare at a bed of black locusts, I look at her just as she looks at me, "Have you notice something is bothering daeron, he seems highly upset about something." Helaena glance away with a look that told me all I needed to know, "....Helaena." I drawl out with a look, helaena looks back at me with a meekly look.

"...the dragon has been strip of his wings, he lives in turmoil...no thanks to the wolves." I furrow my brows and tilt my head at her words, it was always hard to understand helaena's riddles as a child.

Even now as a adult it's hard to understand what she is saying.

"What does that mean?" I asked stopping in our tracks, helaena looks unsure as she averted her gaze.

"...you must seek him out to understand." She whispered looking back at me, I frown for a moment before nodding my head.

I loop my arm through helaena's arm, we continued our walk through the garden. My thoughts go to daeron, the way he acted at breakfast and the way Alicent was acting towards Aegon, it obvious they hiding something and I rather not wait to found out.

「 ⊹₊♚₊⊹ 」

Godswood was empty. After escorting Helaena back to her chamber to attend to her children, I came to gidswood in hopes to find daeron, so we could talk. I look around as I walk further towards the tree, once under I heard sniffing, I walk around the tree only to found no one. I frown before I heard rustling in the trees, u look up and through the branches and leaves I could see daeron hiding up there.

"Daeron? What are you doing up there, get down before you hurt yourself." I move around to get a better look at him, he glance at me before quickly turning his face to hide.

"Leave me alone." He voice was rough as if he been crying.

"Daeron, what's going on." I ask looking up at the tree, my hand went to my belly feeling anxious at how high he was.

"Go away." I sigh desperately looking up at him.

"Please, Daeron. I only came to see if you were okay."

"I'm fine! Are you happy? Now, leave me alone." He snapped causing me to look up at him sadly.

"Daeron, please come down, whatever is on your mind we can talk–" Daeron turn his head to look down at me with a scrunch up red face.

"I don't want to talk you, or anyone at that matter." He hissed every word filled with vemon, "So, fuck off." He added turning away again.

I huff through my nose looking up at him, I look at the tree for a minute before stepping towards it and getting on my tippy toes.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"If you won't come down and talk, then I come up." I said holding on to the tree before lifting my foot to try to climb.

"Jaenara just leave me alone, and stop that! Before you hurt yourself." I shook my head as I boost myself up as I grab onto the branch before pausing to look up.

"I'll stop if you talk to me." Daeron's eyes held so much conflict that his silence made me move again, I gasp when my foot slip but lucky enough I was still holding tight on the branch.

"Jaenara! Stop it. You going to hurt yourself and the babe, do your being stupid." I let out a breathless chuckle.

"Well, I do stupid things for the people I love, I don't know what to tell you." I utter but by the way daeron was silent made known he heard me, I yelp sliding down the body of the tree to land on my butt, "...ow." I mutter, I heard daemon gasp and call my name, the sound of rustling made me look from me rubbing my bottom to daeron getting out of the tree to come to my side.

"By the gods, jaenara. Are you okay?" He asked worried making me give him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine just fell on my butt." Daeron grabbed my elbow helping off the ground, I brush off the dirt from my dress before looking at daeron, "Daeron, I'm sorry..." The young prince look at me with a mixture if confusion and shock, "...I know I put you in a situation you didnt want to be in, but the way you been acting has me worried about you." I confess.

Daeron looks down meekly with a defeated look, "You know whatever it is that is bothering you, you can tell me right. You know I will not judge you." Daeron sniffle moving his hand to wipe his nose on his sleeve.

"But, you will be angry with me." He utter making me give him a look.

"I can never be angry at you, nothing can make me mad at you." I reach my hand to touch his cheek only for him to flinch away, I frown at the way his eyes welled when he look at me, "...Daeron, whatever it is I promise you on my aunt and everyone I love life that I will not be mad at you...never. You mean too much to me for me to ever hold any anger in my heart for you, so i ask again, please tell me what is wrong. " Daeron's chin started to wobble a bit along with his bottom lip, before I knew it he throw his arms around me and sob.

The sound that came from my uncle broke my heart, it felt like someone was squeezing it making it hard to breathe. I slowly wrap my arms around him, my hand move to massage his hair as he cries.

"...I-I didn't want to go...b-but aegon made me," Daeron wept, "...I'm sorry, jaenara...I'm so so sorry," My head was spiraling to what he was apologizing for, and as I sense a feeling in my gut that made me hold Daeron to me tighter.

My mind goes to aunt rhaelle and uncle daemon, a memory that I don't remember played in my head and soon a feeling of anger spread through my body.

"It's alright, daeron." I rub his back, "...everything's going to be alright, sweet boy." I whispered burying my face in his hair before kissing his hairline.

「 ⊹₊♚₊⊹ 」

I watch Daeron's sleeping form in my bed, once we came back to my chamber, daeron finally explain what been eating at him. Once he was finish, he went back to crying and I held him as he did, I didn't know what to do but sooth him and assure him that I wasn't angry with him. I shook my head and pushing those thoughts aside hearing the a gentle knock at the door.

I turn around and opened the door to see Enith, she smiles at me and I return the gesture. I step aside and she walked in her eyes going straight to daeron, i could see in her eyes that she was confuse and worried to see Daeron here.

"I must go." I said making Enith turn her attention back to me, "I'll won't be gone long." Enith frown a bit.

"Where are you going?" She asked, my eyes bounce over to daeron before going back to Enith.

"To have a little talk with aegon." I respond, "If he wakes tell him that I'm running a errand, okay." Enith's brow twitch before nodding her head, I smile at Enith before turning on my heel.

I close the door behind me and make my way down the corridor, I half expected Enith to stop me, to talk some sense to me. I know she knows that something is wrong and that visiting Aegon is out of character for me, I wonder if she knows about what happened to daeron with her witchy powers.

I turn the corner before stopping when I see Aemond coming down the hall, it took a moment for him to notice me and he smiled my way.

"My love, I was just about to come see you...." He smiles widely, I glance around thinking, if aemond founds out I was going to see Aegon. He definitely would stop me, but I can't let aegon's action go unpunished nor can I let aemond take care of it.

I have no doubt he pick his brother's side over thus.

"Jaenara." He called softly standing in front me, I look up at him as he stare down at me with curious expression.

"Sorry, my love. What did you say?" I ask moving around, he follow suit and walk beside me.

"I was thinking about names for the babe," he says, I hum telling him to continue, "I have two I wish to name our boy, the first is Alaric a masculine name from my mother. She says it means all powerful ruler." I glance at him as he grins, I refrained from rolling my eyes, there was no way in all seven hells I was naming my boy after that fool wench.

"And the other one." I ask.

"Maegor." I stop and turn to him with a look, "...I know but I doubt our son will end up like maegor the first, and beside I think he can give different meaning to the name. Imagine, he could be maegor the clever or maegor the righteous." He smirk at the thought, I could only hum in response before continue on my way.

It was quiet between us, my mind was wielding on what I was going to do once I get to Aegon's chamber. I was stomp. I didn't know why I was doing this or why I was making it into something more than what it was, maybe I wanted to show daeron that I cared and that I am with him. Something in the back of my mind was telling me how stupid it is to confront aegon about taking daeron to the brothel, he was a boy, I understood that men should know what to expect during their consummation. But, the way daeron was acting says there was more but he was still afraid to tell me, and something deep in my gut told me that I had to do this. That I had to protect him.

I was brought back to the present by Aemond's hand on my wrist stopping me from going towards Aegon's door.

"Why are we visiting Aegon." Aemond ask looking at me.

"We're not. I am." I replied moving to step forward only to be stopped again.

"Why." He demanded making me give him a look.

"I have something to ask." I said with a edge in my voice to show aemond I wasn't in no mood for him or his jealousy.

"What about?" He asked again with a annoyed look, I glare at him before I could tell him none of his business.

Aegon's door opened making us look over, a servant with wild red hair appeared with a tray in one hand. She look at us in shock before fixing her face and averting her eyes, she bow towards us acknowledging our presents before swiftly stalking away down the hall leaving Aegon's door open. I slip my from Aemond's grasp and he called my name as I walk into the room, I stop a few feet away from the door as I scrunch up my nose at the odor in the room. It didn't take long to realize what just occur in here, I look over at aegon as he stood at the table with a cup in his hand wearing nothing but his trousers.

I cleared my throat catching Aegon's attention, he grin and open his arms to me.

"Neice, what do I owe you and my one-eye brother visit." He ask pulling out a chair and taking a seat, I glare at him at the insult towards aemond.

"Always nice to see you sober, brother." Aemond replied from behind me as Aegon grab a apple from the bowl in the middle on the table before biting into it.

"Oh, Aemond. You know I only jest, little brother." Aegon smirk.

I heard Aemond growl making me step forward catching Aegon's attention, "Apologies for the intrusion, uncle. But, I hoping you can shed some light on something for me." Aegon look at me surprised before he nodded his hand.

"Alright." He sat up straight in his chair with his leg resting on his thigh.

I gave a breif smile before speaking, "Daeron has told me on his and yours visit to the brothels in fleabotton..." Aegon raise his brow before a grin cross his lips.

"And you wish to visit, sweet neice. I am flattered that you wish attend with me, I am sure I can find a man there who be happy to fuck your flower...even with your predicament. " He glance at my stomach before looking at me, I scoff in disgust.

"That's not--"

"I always knew you were a cuck, brother." Aegon spoke over me to look over my shoulder at his brother, "He used always peek inside to watch me, the little freak." He chortle before looking back at me.

My brows twitch making my mind wonder for a moment before I shook my head, "What happened at the brothel?" I said cutting to the chase, aegon grabs his cup before stopping it near his lips.

"What do you mean? It sorta obvious what we did there." He says, I furrow my brows as aegon drink from his cup.

"What did Daeron do there?" I asked wanting to clarify on what daeron was doing.

Aegon look at me before looking at his brother who move to stand next to me.

"Is the pregnancy getting to her brain already, brother. Or is this what you been complaining about to mother about." He said making me clench my jaw.

"I have no idea what your talking about, jaenara let's go so we can leave my brother to drown in his cup in peace." Aemond turns to me touching my arm but I ignore him as my patience

"What don't you just come out and say it," I snap crossing my arms over my chest, aegon narrow his eyes at me as if trying to figure me out.

"Why do you care?" He asked.

"Because something happened and I want to know what it was." I shouted.

Aegon gave a eyeroll before draining his cup before slamming it down on the table, "It simple, neice. I took Daeron there to make him a man, and last I remember he left satisfied." I eye him.

"I beg the differ." Aegon scoff before looking away from me.

"You know brother I use to envy the fact that you got our sweet neice while I got stuck with helaena," Aegon sneer, "But, now I see that the gods where on my side by sparing me eternity with her."

"Well, your not a gift from the gods either Aegon," I snark back making him snap his eyes at me with a glare, "All you ever done is drink and fuck your way through life‐‐"

"And I will die a happy man because of it, neice." He grins.

"Yes, a happy and deserted man surrounded by nothing but whores who wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire." Aegon smile falter to angry frown.

"Maybe, but atleast I can count on a whore to shut her mouth and take my cock."

"Is that why you like them more, uncle? Because unlike the ladies in court or the servants here, they would rather slit their throats than be touch by a foul thing like you." Aegon grits his teeth.

"You little wh--"

"Alright, that's enough." Aemond shouted as he move to stand between me and aegon, he turn to me with a look, "Jaenara, we're leaving. Whatever this is doesn't concern us--" I snap my gaze to ae.ond.

"If not us than who then." I snapped angrily, aemond looks mildly taken back, "Are we really going to ignore that he took a child to a brothel, and allow him to have his virtue taken from him without a second thought." Aemond was silent at my words.

Aegon let out a snicker making me look at him, "Virtue? Is that what he got that from...you?" Aegon let out another snicker making me grow angry, "All that talking about waiting until marriage all came from you, gods I would have thought your marriage with my brother would have taught you something, stupid girl." He smirk making me rise my chin with a stern look.

"I learn a lot from my marriage, including how to rise above insufferable people." I spat, "That what makes me better than you and your mother, and that is also why daeron will always be better than you too." Aegon's expression was cold and hard.

I turn my back to him feeling proud to make him feel as low as he should, aegon was nothing but a arrogant and spoiled, no thanks to his mother and grandfather.

"That fucking prat is not better than me, his a craven who couldn't stop crying throughout the whole thing like a baby." He snapped angrily, "And then ran off sobbing like a little girl who got her favorite gown ruined, I am way better than that whimpering little shit." Aegon spit out making me turn to him, he was standing with his hands in fists and his wife twisted.

"He was crying?" I whispered.

Aegon looked just as equally taken back by his words than me, he stuttered for a second before getting the words out.

"...w-whimpering, he was whimpering--"

"And you didn't think to stop them." Aegon wore a look before shaking his head as a scowl return to his features.

"There was nothing to stop he was moaning...he was enjoying himself." Aegon sounded almost like he was defendeding himself, I couldn't help but look at him a certain way making him take notice and snap, "I dont have to explain myself to you, if daeron wanted to stop he would have. But, he didn't. He liked it--"

"How can you be so sure." I blurted, "You said he was crying and that he ran out, did you go look for him to see if he was okay?" Aegon stay silent, "Did you really think he was enjoying himself--"

"Aemond did the same thing, and he came back the next day and got his cock sucked." Aegon said exasperated, I look at him in disbelief.

"Did daeron come back the next day, aegon?" Aegon was silent once again, a feeling in my stomach made me feel sick making me place my hand on top, I couldn't help but glance down at my belly and wonder what I would do if that happened to my baby boy, my flesh and blood.

"It was nothing...he was exaggerating." Aegon finally utter, I look at him with a disgusted look.

"If it was helaena in his place would you think she was exaggerating," Aemond and Aegon looked at me with a mixture of emotions that she could only describe as anger and fear, "What about your little boy, jaehaerys, would you think it was nothing if daeron dragged him into one of those places and ignore his cries. Would that be nothing, uncle." Aegon turn his head with conflicted look, I blink trying to get rid of the hot tears, "No child should to have to go through that, and no parent shouldn't have to watch their little boy have the light snuff right out of them." Aegon bowed his head as his lip twit into a snarl.

"Get out of my room." He demanded not looking up.

I turn on my heels without a word or fight, I left the room leaving aegon and aemond in the uncomfortable silence. It wasn't long before awmond catch up with me, he grab my elbow stopping me in the hall, I face him bit didn't look at his face but rather his collar.

"Are you okay?" He asked, I furrow my brows before straighten them to look up at aemond.

"I'm not the one you should be asking that to." I replied with a dry tone, aemond nod looking embarrassed and went quiet.

I look down as his hands slide down my arm to grab my hands after a moment of silence between us, he let out a deep sigh, "What do you want me to do?" He asked as if wanting to know what his next order was from me, I look back up at him with a confuse and unsure look.

A devious thought crossed my mind, I was hesitant for a second contemplating if I should say it out loud or not. But, the words aegon said not too long ago played in my head like a taunt, and my anger once again flared.

"I would like you to found out what brothel aegon took daeron, and set fire to it with those whores inside." The words came out steady and clear, my words didn't mush together or come out shaky. It was clear what I wanted, aemond pulled me close so he could rest his chin on top my of head as he hold me.

"I'll do." He whispered, "I'll do anything for you, anything."

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lovelywhiteroses · 6 months ago

Note

HI omg I’ve never requested anything but I love your writing anyways can you do Lloyd from Ninjago and his nightmares (he’s a traumatized boy) and the reader comforting him idk just fluff

✨🌹Oh of course my Dear Anon! I got the perfect scenario for you. I’m glad you asked dear anon. Now then. I also apologize for this being very late. Let’s get going now. Shall we?🌹✨

Ninjago

Lloyd Garmadon x Reader

Worst nightmare

The night was quiet, and so was the monastery. Everything was silent except the the crickets and the soothing wind. The ninja and you were sleeping peacefully.

Lloyd however seemed to be shifting and muttering something while it was clear it was a nightmare he was having. His nightmare was nothing short of terrifying for him.

He looks around, every l thing is pitch black, he starts to wonder. The walk seeming never ending, until he comes upon a figure……

You

He then walks over to you.

“Hey, is everything alright?” He placed his hand on you’re shoulder, yet you didn’t respond. He then goes infront of you, you’re expression looked…… empty…… he waved his hand in front of you’re face to get you’re attention but it doesn’t work. He wonders what’s going on.

“Hey you holding up ok……?”

Kai speaks in a worried and saddened tone behind Lloyd. He walks past him to you. You don’t answer you only cry putting you’re hands up to you’re face. Kai giving you a side hug, as to try and comfort you. Lloyd is even more confused and doesn’t know what is going on. “Hey what’s going on? Sweet-“ as he goes to hold you’re hand he suddenly stumbles and falls……

Right through you.

He was confused. How come he was able to touch you before but not now? “Hey… I hope I’m not intruding on anything.”

Nya had arrived as Lloyd got up, you and kai look over to her. Nya seemed to have… flowers? But what for?

Suddenly a table appears making Lloyd more confused and weirded out on what’s going on. You seem to be on the verge of crying again. Nya hugs you. “Hey, it’s alright…… we’re going to miss him to. I image it’s tougher for you though… I wouldn’t know how I could go on knowing Jay is gone.”

Wait…… what…?

“Have room for more?”

Jay comes in along with Cole, Zane, P.I.X.A.L, and Master Wu. Lloyd is even more determined to know what’s going on. He walked up to them and was more eager to know. “Guys! What’s going on? What’s happening-” with that all of them walked right through him. They placed thing on the table, just like how Nya placed the flowers. “I can’t believe he’s gone……”

You finally spoke, you’re voice was more shaky and you’re eyes still teary. Nya and Kai comfort you. The others paying respects to something. But what? “Guys…… this isn’t funny…”

“I’m going to miss Lloyd…”

Lloyd’s heart stopped.

What was Kai talking about?

“I thought maybe things would’ve worked out… you know…?”

You try to say through tears. Kai comforts you. Nya sighing seeming more saddened as P.I.X.A.L put a fixed a picture that had a familiar face on it…

Lloyds Face…

“Let’s all go. I think they need space.”

Cole suggests as they leave you in the now shown room of the monetary. The voices of the others and their footsteps going quieter and quieter.

Silence hits upon the room… you’re face, now in you’re hands. Assuming you’re crying…… “sweetheart, it’s ok I’m not-”

“Idiots…”

Lloyd then looks to realize you’re…… laughing. You look up and laugh a bit, silence hits again. You then gave his portrait a wickedly sickened grin. You step closer and touch his portrait tracing your finger along his face in the portrait. An unsettling feeling comes over Lloyd.

“I really didn’t think it would be that easy to get rid of you… who would’ve know all I had to do was bat my eyes and try my best not to act like Harumi did and I’d be able to wrap you around my little finger……”

“Wha…?”

Lloyd looks at you unsure if this is the person he fell for, all they see is a wicked person right in front of them.

“So easy…… too easy…… how cute it was… unfortunately for you… it wasn’t enough to save you. Stupid… it’s so foolish. Haha!”

You wrapped you’re arms around yourself and laughed.

“Killing you myself was so easy! Slipping that poison in you’re tea was so stupidly easy! It’s hilarious! The way you let you’re guard down……”

You then look at his portrait and grin.

“I wouldn’t love a fool like you… even if the world were to end……”

Suddenly you turned to the real him……

“You… you’re not-”

He stepped back, terrified, confused, betrayed, angry…… all his emotions boiling over as he stumbled back. You took some steps closer, you placed you’re hands on his shoulders and leaned into his ear.

“Trust nobody…… dear……”

You pushed him, but the wall wasn’t there……

“Lloyd Garmadon.”

He fell as you laughed, the fear of losing someone he love so dearly… ended up betraying and deceiving him… this can’t be real can it?

WAKE UP!

PLEASE LET THIS ONLY BE A NIGHTMARE!

PLEASE!

“Lloyd! Wake up!”

With a cold sweat he woke up from his nightmare, hyperventilating, scared out of his mind of what he just saw, his dream felt real? Did it actually happen? Was it a vision? What even was that?! You carefully and gently comforted him. He had tears in his eyes…

“Hey it’s alright.”

With that you guide his face to look at yours he looked into the eyes he knew all too well, that was genuine and knew he could trust. You’re eyes. With that he hugged you, thanking the first master underneath his breath that it was all just a nightmare, and that wasn’t you. You held him close gently running you’re fingers through his already messy hair.

“You’re real right? I can trust you right?”

You kiss his forehead, before taking his hands in yours.

“Yes Lloyd. I’m real, you’re alright. Don’t worry, it was only a nightmare.”

With that Lloyd finally relaxed, he then gone ahead to hold you in his arms, he always love the warm comfort you bring to him. He then kisses you and you jokingly stick out you’re tongue.

“Ew you already have morning breath.”

Lloyd only smiles as you and his end up sleeping together in his room for the rest of the night……

Having nothing but the sweetest of dreams…

✨🌹Bonus scene!🌹✨ 🤭✨

“Hey Lloyd have you see-”

Cole quickly stops seeing how you two are sleeping in each others arms. He quickly shuts the door. “Did he have it?” Nya asks as Cole only shook his head no and sighed. “No if anything I think Jay has the wooden sword, he has been trying to one up Kai lately.” Cole smiles, knowing well that it’s better don’t to bother the two of you.

✨🌹That’s the end of our journey my dear, I do hope you enjoyed it. Again, so sorry it took so long for me to respond and write this. I hope you have a good day, afternoon, or night wherever you are. Do be sure to take care!🌹✨

#scenarios #scenarios writing #writing scenarios #lloyd garmadon x reader #ninjago lloyd

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thunder-point · 3 months ago

Note

Cole I'm sorry but I suddenly remembered this super funny thing that maybe is only funny to ME AHSGH but like.

so there's this popular meme(?) from Mean Girls where they're all talking about Regina like yeah she's flawless she has two Fendi purses etc.- and then Bethany goes "one time she punched me in the face ... it was awesome."

now imagine (because I'm terrible at video meme-ing) Peem's friends describing Peem. YEAH Peem's a great artist, he's kind and pretty , yeah he's so patient and loving—and then there's Phum— "one time he kicked me in the balls...it was awesome."

if anyone is reading this ask and CAN make this into a thing, please do 😔🙏

i don't know how to edit, or to draw, i just know how to yap (badly at times) so i will try to do my best for you my beloved.

but -- reading this i imagined a whole scenario that is solely ridiculous and maybe tender.

so i will say it to you, and i hope it puts a smile on your face.

as always. IMAGINE:

they are at parkingtoys for a night of drinking. the whole extended squad. and phumpeem have been official for a few weeks. still in their third year of university. so the situation is as it goes:

there's a senior from year 4 that peem really, but really respects. like so much. and he's so shy around this guy, because his technique for painting water is literal perfection or something.

let's call him... Top. Alright.

So that evening Top spots their big table, namely spots Peem and Q, and comes to salute them and ask how it's going with exams or something. And listen, Peem's friends know how Peem gets around this guy. How he gushes about his skill. Q has tried to make Peem go and ask for his Instagram for a while now, just so they can talk about painting and Peem can tell Top directly how much he loves his work.

So as soon as Top comes in and Peem greets him with a lowered head, a bashful smile and shyness in his voice, his friends jump to action.

"It's going great," Q starts, draping a casual arm around Peem. "This guy here got his third A in a row. I think I might have a competition this year for the third-year student with straight As on exams."

"I'm glad to hear that." Top smiles, before he looks around. "I see you guys made some new friends, too."

"All Peem's fault!" Tan cuts in, too solemn for his words. "He's just so friendly, you know? He charmed everyone in Engineering."

"So charming," Pun slurs out with a nod, way beyond tipsy. "Such a good friend."

"Have you had the pleasure of being his friend, Top?" Chain asks nonchalantly, despite doing his best to keep Pun upright. "Just saying, he's a pretty talented guy. You guys could talk about paints. Or something."

"Guys," Peem groans behind his palm, barely able to peek a look at a very amused Top.

And Phum? Well, he's just very confused. Like, Fang, Beer and Mick are confused. But Phum is truly confused. Maybe because he's a bit tipsy, or because their friends sound like they are trying to hook Peem, his boyfriend, with this guy. He knows a bit about Top. Knows that Peem kind of idolizes him. But why did Pun have to mention that he's charming?

At this point, Phum kind of wants to yank Peem under his arm and keep him hidden from the world. But then Top says, "I would love to be his friend, of course." And Peem's eyes get those glittering, dancing delights in his eyes, and he's peering at Top like he's bringing him a foreign part of the world, and how could Phum deny his boyfriend of this happiness?

So he tries to help, tries to join the charade of chatting Peem up -- platonically, of course.

Key word, tries.

He makes obvious eye contact with Top, face earnest, and he declares, "One time he kicked me in the balls... It was awesome. He's awesome."

Top blinks.

The table goes quiet, stupefied, except for Peem, who chokes on the drink he was having at that moment. He sputters the drink onto the table, and Phum immediately cups his cheeks to check if he's okay.

"Phum," Peem croaks, lips shiny with liquid and spit and eyes incredulous. "You can't just- Can't just say-"

At that point, Q and Chain begin to guffaw so hard Pun falls because of it, no longer supported by Chain. Tan is hiding his face behind a very amused Fang.

"What?" Phum mumbles, and then he throws his head back to give Top a frowny glance. "But he is awesome, even when he's angry. Trust me. Doesn't even matter that I went to the hospital because of-"

"Phum," Peem groans, hands trying desperately to cover Phum's mouth, to bring his head back. Phum is still babbling a bit. Just a bit. Because he needs to let this guy know just how awesome his boyfriend is. But then nimble fingers push into his lips and Peem murmurs, "Baby, that's enough. C'mere."

And Phum- Well. He flushes quicker than one can blink, before he buries his face in Peem's neck, who makes an endeared oof, despite embarrassment still coursing through him.

"And now he's shy," Q snorts. "Jesus fuck, Peem. Your boyfriend is something else.

It's that Peem rarely calls him baby in public, okay? And maybe he's more than a bit tipsy.

He hears Top say, "I didn't know you were in a relationship."

Phum makes sure to turn around just enough to give Top a look, before he says, "He is. Only I can get kicked in the balls by him, get it-"

Peem shoves Phum's face back in his neck with a choked-up sound, "I think we need to go. Enough alcohol for you."

Phum lets out a soft sound, arms coming around Peem's dainty waist. He nuzzles his collarbone. "Whatever you want, baby."

AAAND YEAH. JUST. Just endearment. I hope this was a fun read for you, alan

#phumpeem #coles's asks #phum would totally brag about being kicked in the balls by peem

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kissesinthemist · 1 month ago

Text

Modern! Meadowlark Headcanons (Cole Edition)

(I decided to separate the characters because I have a lot to say about each of them and if I did them all in one post it would be extremely long)

• They would be known as the quiet awkward kid in school. People think they’re nice but nobody besides the Lark knows them well. A little bit of a mystery

• Probably in a club or two (most likely music and/or drama) but they don’t interact much with the other members unless absolutely necessary or it’s approached first (They’re too shy to approach first)

• If they were in Drama, it would rarely audition for a part in a play. They mostly work backstage as a sound designer or design set pieces

• Wouldn’t like horror movies. They don’t enjoy the violence and gore. Also not a fan of movies depicting war or end of the world type shit

• Huge book worm. They would spend their lunch breaks in the library reading. Not picky about the genre they read but it does have a soft spot for fantasy and mystery

• Would prefer online learning over actually going to school

• Had a 2020 alt phase (it haunts them in their dreams but they also sort of miss it)

• Not a huge fan of anime but they wouldn’t mind watching it if their friends really wanted to

• Huge fan of Gravity Falls. It finds the mystery aspect of the show interesting and they relate to Dipper a lot

• Beside Gravity Falls, they also like Over the Garden Wall, Charlie Brown movies, Winnie the Pooh, and Scooby Doo (specifically the old school and mystery incorporated versions but any of era is fine with them)

• I’m a bit iffy on this one but I think they would like gummies and probably prefer them over chocolate. It wouldn’t like sour ones though, just classic gummy candy like gummy worms, bears, etc

• LOVESSS ASMR. They would listen to it all the time. Reading, doing homework, sleeping- whatever it’s doing, they’re listening to asmr

• Other than music, their favourite subjects in school would be history and english (specifically creative writing, they don’t really enjoy writing essays)

• Prefers older music rather than today’s music. Unless it’s folk of some kind, they would prefer to listen to bands and musicians from the 60s and back. Additionally, it strikes me as the type to believe love songs back then and better than love songs today

• Would love watching those analysis videos on YouTube. It doesn’t matter what the topic being discussed is, they’ll watch it anyways because it just enjoys learning

• Because of their love for analysis videos, they know a bunch of fun facts about a variety of subjects. If someone were to ask them something about a particular subject, they would most likely know the answer, no matter how obscure it is

• I feel like they would absolutely rock the very controversial fashion trend of wearing skirts over pants. This is already somewhat canon but I still think it’s worth mentioning

• Along with skirts over pants, Cole would prefer wearing loose comfortable clothing that is easy to move around in

• Some staple pieces in their wardrobe would include: Long sleeve shirts, baggy t-shirts, sweater vests, button ups, zip up sweaters, loose pants, and flowy skirts

• Their style is very casual with just a dash of whimsy to keep things interesting, add some drama y’know?

That’s all the headcanons I have for now, next up is Clémentine <3

#Sorry this took so long to post #I literally did this all last night and I was so tired afterwards #I was practically falling asleep as I was writing #Still it was fun coming up with these #Yaelokre #meadowlark headcanons #meadowlark #cole yaelokre #the lark

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not-neverland06 · 1 year ago

Text

Broken Machinery

Intermission

To be read after part five

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

“Oh, no.”

“Is something wrong, detective?”

“Yeah, something’s wrong.” You didn’t wait for Connor to open your door, you got out of the car and began heading towards where Hank was sitting. Connor closed the car door behind him and followed after you.

You hesitated behind the Lieutenant, your hand hovering over his shoulder as you stood behind the bench. You stood like that for a minute before you finally dropped your hand and turned around. There was a defeated slope to your shoulders as you sat down on the roundabout, staring out at nothing.

Connor kept an eye on you while he walked over to the Lieutenant, there was already an empty bottle beside him, and he was starting on a new one. “Nice view, huh? I used to come here a lot before…” He paused, “You remember that, Y/N?”

Your voice was quiet, barely louder than the falling snow. “Yeah, I remember.” Connor looked between the two of you, neither of you were very interested in the idea of ‘opening up.’ However, the Lieutenant had been drinking, perhaps he would be more loose-tongued.

“Before what?”

“Hm?”

“You said, ‘I used to come here a lot before.’ Before what?”

Hank stared down into the bottle, slowly swirling it before taking another sip. “Before… Before nothin’.” Your foot scraped across the ground as you twirled yourself slightly on the roundabout. Your posture was closed off, not defensive, just closed off. He would have no luck with you.

Connor figured now would be a good time to ask the LIeutenant a question that had been bothering him. While things were obviously tense, there was a tranquility on the bridge that Connor rarely experienced around Hank.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

Hank turned towards Connor, “Do all androids ask so many personal questions or is it just you?”

Connor didn’t think Hank would appreciate the truth behind his desired answer to that question. Plus, you had warned him recently to keep any thoughts that had been causing conflicts in his software to himself, that it would be safer for him.

“I saw a photo of the detective and a young child in her bedroom.” Hank turned around and gave you a long look when Connor mentioned that he was in your bedroom. His brows were furrowed when he turned back to Connor. “The boy, it was your son, right?”

“Yeah… His name was Cole.” Connor already knew that, but telling the Lieutenant that wouldn’t do any good. “And the girl in the picture had been my daughter, not anymore.” Connor turned towards you at the sound of a sniffle, but your back was to the both of them as you had spun to the opposite side of where they were standing. He could vaguely make out the shape of your shoulders shaking through the snow.

Connor needed something else to think about, his humans were too emotional, too complicated. It was in turn making his mission more complicated. “We’re not making any progress on this investigation… The deviants have nothing in common. They’re all different models, produced at different times, in different places.”

Hank didn’t seem truly interested in what Connor had to say, but he entertained his musings nonetheless. “Well, there must be some link.”

Your voice was still quiet, but you spoke up loud enough for both of them to hear, “rA9,” Connor waited a moment to see if you wanted to elaborate on your thoughts. You remained silent.

“They do share a similar obsession, it’s almost as if it’s a myth. Or a god to them. Like it’s something they invented that wasn’t part of their original program.”

“Androids believing in God… Fuck, what’s this world coming to?”

“You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant… Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?” Your head perked up slightly in the background and you angled yourself so you could hear their conversation more clearly. It seemed his actions at the club hadn’t confused only him.

“Those two girls, they just wanted to be together… They really seemed in love,” the idea appeared to distress the Lieutenant.

“They can simulate human emotions, but they’re machines. And machines don’t feel anything,” perhaps reminding the Lieutenant of that fact would ease his troubles and make him a more agreeable partner. Towards both Connor and you.

“What about you, Connor?” You had finally made your way over to the bench, keeping a clear distance between yourself and the Lieutenant.

The Lieutenant finished his drink and stood from the bench, “Yeah, you look human, you sound human, but what are you really?” Both pairs of eyes were boring intently into his.

Whatever he said next could make or break the trust he had been building back up, he looked towards you. He knew what you wanted to hear, he knew exactly what to say that would make you warm up to him again. But he had promised, he had promised to be honest and not to manipulate your emotions.

For some reason that meant something to him.

So, he went with what he felt was the truth. “You know exactly what I am.” Your face dropped and Hank’s got angrier. “In any case, I don’t see how that’s relevant to the investigation.”

“You could have shot those two girls-“

“But you didn’t.” It was a bit unnerving to have you and the Lieutenant finishing each other's thoughts. Perhaps this is a method you used on perps when you interrogated them, corner them and trap them into the truth.

“Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?” Hank shoved him back and you stepped forward, stopping yourself for a moment and letting everything play out. “Hm? Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?”

He looked towards you again, you had moved a step closer. He could practically see what you were thinking.

Tell the truth. Please.

“No… I just decided not to shoot, that’s all…”

“Oh, Connor,” he thought you would be happy, he told the truth. Instead you seemed incredibly sad and he didn’t like that. Your eyes widened and then your eyebrows turned down in anger at the sight of Hank pulling his gun. “Hank, what the hell are you doing?”

He ignored you, seemingly having only enough mental capacity to focus on one thing, Connor. “But, are you afraid to die, Connor?”

“I would certainly find it regrettable to be… interrupted… before I can finish this investigation.”

You were slowly moving closer to the two trying to figure out how to stop Hank. “Put the gun down.”

“What will happen if I pull this trigger? Hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android Heaven?”

The idea of Android heaven was preposterous, but that wouldn’t get Hank to put the gun down. He needed to do it soon as you seemed ready to jump in between the two of them. “Where does all this anger come from, Lieutenant? Some unresolved trauma in your past?” He knew the answer, it was Cole and whatever had caused the rift between you two.

“Connor, stop.” You had stopped trying to intervene now, staring at him with hurt swirling in your eyes.

“You think you’re so fucking smart,” his finger tightened on the trigger. “Always one step ahead, huh? Tell me this, smart ass… How do I know you’re not a deviant? The way you hover around Y/N, your mercy towards those two girls back there…”

“I self-test regularly, I know what I am and what I am not.”

That wasn't truly an answer but it seemed to work for the Lieutenant. His hand shook before the gun fell back to his side. Hank moved back towards the bench, picking up another bottle.

You watched him walk away, “Where are you going?”

“To get drunker… I need to think.” Both you and Connor watched him get in his car and drive away.

You rocked back on your feet and tucked your hands in your pockets.

“Guess we’re walking home.”

“DAD!”

You couldn’t see.

Why couldn’t you see?

There was a red film over your eyes and when you went to rub it away, you couldn’t move. There was something digging in your cheek, glass judging from the pile of it next to your face. What was going on?

You don’t remember what happened, the last thing you remember was getting into a fight with Hank about joining the force. He didn’t want you to, he thought it was too dangerous.

And then there was something loud.

A scream

You screamed

Why?

Because there was a noise, an awful noise, like metal scraping on pavement.

What the hell happened?

“Cole! Cole, wake up!”

Your hands were pinned under your body, half of you was on asphalt, and when you tilted your head down you saw your legs on the grass. There was a strange warmth running down your face, you could see bone sticking out of your calf and blood pooling beneath it.

There was a strange calmness as you tried to move your legs and failed. In the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t good, that your life was about to be changed forever. But you couldn’t break through the fog in your mind long enough to freak out.

You lifted your hand and dragged your arms out from underneath you, your skin catching on the pavement. There were two shapes in front of you in the middle of the road. Your vision was still blurry but you could recognize the close cut hair of your dad, and he was holding something small in his arms.

It wasn’t moving, you felt like it should be.

There were bright lights and smoky smells surrounding you, hands were tugging at your arms, but all you could see was the stillness in Hank’s arms. The small shape that should be moving, but wasn’t.

Again that small voice in your head was screaming, in pain or in anger, you weren’t sure.

Nothings ever gonna be the same, is it?

“Y/N! Y/N!” Your hand lashed out, and connected with something hard.

It was hard to see in the dark, but you could make out the vague shape of Connor standing in front of your bed. “Connor?” Your voice was hoarse from being quiet for so long.

“You were having a nightmare,” he reached out and turned your lamp back on. Your eyes momentarily closed from the shock of the brightness. “Are you okay, you sounded upset?”

You sat up on your bed, your head in your hands, the dream slowly coming back to you. “It was that night.” Connor’s jacket was gone, his sleeves rolled up. Normally the sight would have made you a little irrational but you were still feeling emotionally wrecked.

He sat next to you on the bed, “What night?” There was a comforting hand on your shoulder, his thumb moving in slow circles as he worked to calm you down.

You could barely hear your own voice as you whispered, “The night Cole died.”

“Why can’t I feel my legs?”

“Please try and remain calm-”

“Where’s my dad? My little brother was with us. Have you found him? Are they okay?!”

The MP600 paramedic stared down at you blankly, it’s human counterpart looked worried as he wrapped the gash on your leg. “Answer me god dammit! Why won’t you look at me?”

The paramedic’s movements stopped for a moment and he looked at you, finally. You immediately wished he hadn’t, you wished he would just go back to pretending you didn’t exist. You knew the answer by the look in his eyes.

The look that told you he’s had to break this type of news to someone one too many times, there was no hope, no light, nothing there to comfort you as you rode to the hospital, silently sobbing into your hands from both pain and anguish.

Words were going in and out of your head, the sound of the heart monitor was background noise to the doctor speaking to you. You still hadn’t seen Dad, or Carla, or Cole.

No one was there to hold your hand as you were told you might never walk again.

That a nerve had been damaged in your spine that might result in lifelong paralysis.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Carla rushed into the room, sweeping you into a hug. You ignored the pain in your ribs and the clear absence of pain in your legs as you returned the embrace ten-fold. “Oh god, I was so worried, no one’s telling me anything. I wasn’t even sure you were alive until an android told me where you were.”

You were crying into her shoulder, so grateful for a familiar face that wasn’t a cold doctor or a frantic nurse.

“Where’s dad, is he okay? Cole?” Carla pulled back, brushing some stray hairs from your forehead as tears lined her eyes.

“Your dad’s okay, he’s just getting patched up. Cole,” her voice broke and your heart crumpled. “Cole’s in surgery, they have an android working on him. On my son.”

Disbelief colored your features and you could hear your heartbeat pick up on the machine. “What, why?”

She shook her head and went back to tenderly brushing the hair out of your eyes.

Carla had came into your life after Hank, she’d cared for you and you loved her but she’d never been your mother. Now her only child was in the hands of something that wasn’t alive, it couldn’t feel empathy. If it failed its mission it wouldn't keep pushing to save Cole like a human might, it would simply give up.

There was a horrible feeling in your gut, burning and twisting around your insides until you became physically ill. You threw up all over yourself. Carla rubbed your back as the nurses came in and cleaned up. You held each other as you both cried.

It wasn’t until Hank walked in did you realize just how worried you had been for him.

“Dad,” his eyes were vacant as he walked into your room. There was no relief like there was with Carla, he stared straight through you. “Dad?”

He shook his head, an empty smile on his face. “Hey, kiddo.” The nickname felt wrong, sounded fake. He just stood in the doorway of your hospital room.

“Hank, what are you doing?” Carla seemed to pick up on the strange behavior too. He stared at you a moment longer, there was a gash across his eye and a bandage wrapped around his arm.

It seemed he’d escaped unharmed compared to you and Cole.

The thought came with such a burning amount of rage and hatred it startled you.

Hank walked out of the room, “Hank!” Carla looked at you, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be right back honey.” You didn’t see either of them for another four hours.

“I’ll never forget the sound of her cry, Connor. It echoes around in my mind when everything’s too quiet.”

His hand squeezed yours as he pulled you into his side.

There was a strange wailing, the noise woke you up. It ripped through the hospital and shook its foundation. Your entire body stilled at the raw visceral pain in the noise. It was terrifying, like you were being held down by some unknown force as you tried to get up.

Then you remembered, your legs were the deadweight holding you down. The thought left you choking back a sob.

Why could you still feel an ache in them, an itch you couldn’t scratch?

There was another horrible noise and you finally forced yourself to roll over. There was a wheelchair waiting for you next to the bed, you almost threw up at the thought of having to use it. Something stopped you from completely flopping off the bed.

You ripped the IV out, “Fuck!” That looks so much less painful in the movies.

You put the guard rail down and finally managed to get into the wheelchair. Your arms were still sore from the impact they took, you pushed through it as you rolled down the hall.

Your room was close enough to the waiting room that it didn’t take too long to see who had been screaming. The entire time your heart was begging you to turn back around, to just get back in bed and rot there. That, that would be better than whatever you were about to see.

Some nights, you wished you had listened.

Carla was on her knees, clutching onto Hank as the doctor spoke in low tones. You barely held back the bile at the sight of their faces.

Hank, you’d never seen him like that before, so lost, so unsure of himself. Like every grain of goodness and light and hope inside him had just been ripped out and run over.

Carla was a shrieking animal on the floor. You knew what that meant.

Cole was gone.

“My condolences,” you nodded, eyes on your hands so you didn’t have to look into the eyes of whoever was mourning. You couldn’t do it anymore, you couldn’t deal with the pity as they looked at your wheelchair and then at your father who was still sitting in the pews, bottle in hand.

You felt hands on your shoulders and looked up, Carla’s once kind eyes, now sad, were staring down at you. “It’s time.” You nodded and she started rolling you towards the taxi waiting at the curb.

Time to bury your baby brother.

Time to bury your heart.

TIme for the final nail on the coffin of what used to be a happy family.

“He was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Hank’s eyes found yours from where he was giving his speech.

The bottle had been disposed of before he joined you in the taxi. You didn’t know if his eyes were red from the drink or from the tears currently pouring out.

“He was so young, so much potential and it was just ripped away from us! From me.” You looked away, wiping your eyes. “How dare you?”

Your head shot up, looking for who he was talking to. You would assume God, if it didn’t sound so pointed. “How dare you sit there and fucking cry?”

No, please no.

He was staring at you, finger pointed at you. “You’re alive and hes dead and you’re fucking crying?!”

“Hank, that’s enough.” He shoved Jeffery off of him, if he wasn’t mourning, the captain probably would have taken his badge.

“No! He’s gone because of you! And you sit there crying like you have any right too?” There were gasps going around the people surrounding the coffin. You and Carla were the only ones who weren’t surprised.

You’d heard this drunken rage a hundred times since the night of the accident.

Hank stumbled towards you, “I wish you had been the one who died.”

Your chest caved in and your heart shattered at your feet. The rest of the funeral was a high-ringing blur of pain.

Carla didn’t stay long. You didn’t blame her.

But you didn’t have the luxury of leaving.

Your admittance letter to the academy stared at you every morning as you wheeled yourself into the bathroom. For months you stewed in misery and depression, you didn’t go to PT and you cried yourself to sleep every night as you heard Hank’s drunken raging outside your room.

Sumo would climb in your bed and snuggle you on the really hard nights.

The only reason you kept going was because if you died no one else would be there to love him or feed him.

You wondered sometimes, if it was your fault. Had you really been so distracting when you were arguing with Hank that he had crashed?

Had it not been for you making him pick you up from a friend's house right after Cole’s karate lesson, they wouldn’t have been on that road.

Maybe things would be better off without you.

“Get up!” A pillow hit you in the head, you buried your face further into your sheets, now more used to the dead weight beneath your waist. Another pillow, a familiar scent attached to this one.

“Carla?”

“That’s right, get your ass up.” Hank must be gone, he’d gone back to work a little while ago, it meant you had the mornings to yourself. You sat up and stared at her in wonder.

Carla had helped you for as long as she stayed, picking you up off the floor when you couldn’t make it onto the toilet in time. Bathed you and helped you get fed. After she had left there were a lot of humiliating mornings of sitting in your own filth because you hadn’t been able to get on and off the toilet on your own.

You’d stopped trying after a while, just held it until it was too painful to keep it in. Stopped eating and drinking. You knew you looked awful, hair unwashed, and barely any meat left on your bones.

“Ay dios mio,” Carla sat down and clutched you to her chest, embracing you despite the stink and the lack of enthusiasm on your side.

Eventually you managed enough strength to hug her back, the moment a painful reminder of the night your life ended.

“Carla took me to physical therapy, helped me find a place on my own and figure out how to navigate my new life.” Your hand was holding Connor’s, you had been tracing shapes on it for a while now as you spoke.

He was just staring at you, letting you talk it all out. “She helped me find a therapist, a lot of my physical problems were the result of mental blocks. That’s not to say I was magically healed once I realized I was traumatized, it was at least a year before I could stand with support.”

“Where are you going?” Hank was sober, rare these days.

You had borrowed Carla’s van, she’d left an hour ago knowing Hank would be home soon. A box was in your lap as you wheeled yourself to the door, Hank was standing there, Sumo’s tail wagging happily beneath him.

You could feel your face drain of color as you stared up at him. This was your last box and you’d really been hoping you would be able to get Carla’s van out of the driveway before he got home. “Um, I’m leaving.”

Hank closed the door behind him, you cried internally, knowing this would go bad. He threw his jacket on the table, his bag landing next to it. He reached for a glass and you started wheeeling yourself backwards, but he only got some water from the tap.

“Was that Carla’s car outside?”

Your throat felt like sandpaper while you answered, “Yeah, she took me to physical therapy today, said I could borrow it. Self-driving, so I don’t have to worry about the pedals.” He already knew that, but you needed to say something to fill the silence.

“How’s that going, the physical therapy?”

“Fine.”

This house is no longer a home.

The thought nearly had you doubled over in grief. You didn’t think it was possible to lose so much in one night, but you should know better. It had already happened to you once.

Maybe Hank was right, maybe you were a curse, a burden on any family you were involved with. Everyone you loved was doomed to die or leave.

“I’m getting some feeling in my leg’s back. I can stand for about thirty seconds,” he turned back towards you, arms crossed and staring down at you. He hadn’t shaved in a while and his hair was starting to grow out of its usually cropped style. He was gaining weight too.

“Thirty seconds?”

You flushed, feeling the need to defend yourself, “It’s a lot for someone who was never supposed to walk again.”

He nodded and the silence suffocated you. He was only twenty feet from you but he felt miles away. Like there was a never ending divide between the two of you. “I’m moving out.” You needed this to be done. You’d survived this heartbreak before, you would do it again.

His gaze shot back to yours, “What?”

The hurt in his voice made you wish you had delivered the news more gently. “I found a place, it’s only a couple minutes away, rents cheap-”

“You don’t even have a job.”

“Fowler helped me out, he’s letting me do some filing before I can retake the academy’s exam.” If I can retake the academy’s exam. Recovery wasn’t promised. “It’s enough for food and rent.”

“Were you going to tell me?” Were you? You had been planning on just leaving a note and going.

“I didn’t think you’d care,” Hank scoffed and this time the glass he filled was with whiskey. By the time he turned around you had already left, the last of your things packed away in the car. You’d seen him running out onto the driveway as the car had taken you to your new home.

There was a painful chasm in your heart at the sight of him watching you leave.

“I walked today, on my own, I didn’t have to use the bars or anything.” Your fingers fiddled with the edge of your comforter as you spoke to Carla. “I still feel like it’s not enough.”

“Más vale maña que fuerza, your physical body is not more important than your spirit, Y/N. If you can’t celebrate the small victories you're never going to heal. That’s a lot. I’m proud of you.”

There were tears in your eyes and a thickness in your throat as you said goodbye and hung up.

Fowler had been keeping you and Hank as separated as possible, different shifts, different days. But there was still the rare interaction. The both of you in the kitchen at the same time for coffee, Hank having to witness Gavin’s horrible attempts at flirting.

Sometimes when Gavin would give you a particularly bad pick-up line you and Hank would share a look that made your chest ache with a phantom pain of when you could laugh together about things like that.

He looked pained every time he saw your cane.

“On my honor, I will never betray my integrity, my character or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always maintain the highest ethical standards and uphold the values of my community, and the agency I serve.”

Carla was waiting for you with flowers after you were sworn in. She took you out to dinner and tried to distract you so you wouldn’t notice who was missing. She’d said goodnight and dropped you back at the station so you could grab your stuff and get your car.

“You did it.” Hank was waiting at your desk, his coat in his hands.

“I did.”

“I’m,” sorry? Proud of me? You were honestly getting pissed off he was even talking to you. Months of radio silence and now, now, on your big night he wants to talk.

“Congratulations.”

You scoffed, “Thanks, your heartfelt words mean so much to me, dad.” Perhaps it was cruel, perhaps you were being petty. You didn’t care, he was reopening the wound in your heart and it was weeping.

You’d worked so hard and for so long to heal yourself, you wouldn’t have him ruining that progress for you simply because he was, what? Bored? Trying to ease some guilt?

“Hey, I’m trying, okay?” Fuck that and fuck him.

“Damage is done Hank, too little too late. I’m done with you. You turned into the person you saved me from.” Maybe that was too much, comparing him to the abusive shitbag that was your foster father. You told yourself you didn’t care, but the tears in your eyes at the sight of his distraught expression betrayed you.

He walked away and while you were weak and in pain Gavin had appeared, asking if you were okay.

You weren’t proud of what you did that night with him, of what you gave to him.

“Hank? Hello?”

You’d made detective today, and Fowler, in his limited wisdom, thought Hank would be a good partner.

You know it hurt for him to see his best friend change so much, but seriously?

Hank?

“You used to call me dad, you know that?”

Drunk. Again. Why’d he call you?

Why did you come?

“Come on, up you go.” You helped him to his feet and managed to get him to the couch before you collapsed under his weight.

“When’d you stop being my little girl?”

Your heart clenched, but it was a distant pain, not as bad as it used to be. “When you stopped being my dad.”

Hank swung out in a dramatic gesture, just barely missing you, “That’s ridiculous. I never stopped, you, you’re not the same anymore.” You could say the same, but there’s no point in arguing with him when he’s like this. He leaned in close, examining your features. “You’re not her. You’re not my daughter, she died. She’s gone. This person, this you, I hate. I hate you because of what you took from me.”

There were tears clawing their way up your throat. Yet you still untied his shoes and grabbed him a blanket.

You still took care of him.

“Get out! Get out of my house! It’s your fault they’re gone, I don’t want you around!” He threw his bottle, it just barely missed your head. Sumo started barking and he started grabbing more things to throw. You ran out the door, his drunken screams still following you.

You ran and you kept running.

At least you could do that.

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

A/N: Is she talking to Connor, or to Hank?

#Broken Machinery #dbh connor #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 #Dbh Connor x fem!reader #Connor rk800 x fem!reader #detroit become human #dbh x reader #Dbh x fem!reader

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