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blossomingmoonlight · 2 months

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⭑ Our sweet sister ⭑

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aemond has been waiting for years to marry his favourite sister, Aegon agreed it was the only way of keeping her close of making sure she only belonged to them. But her being given away to a dornish prince changes everything.

Warnings: NSFW, +18 mdni, targcest, murder, threesome (my first), making out, mastrubation, grinding, fingering, oral (both m and f receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, mommy kink, titty sucking, creampie, switch Aegon, dom Aemond and Aegon being drunk as always.

Word count: 3.3k

The early morning rays shone through your window in the Red Keep as your handmaiden finished up with your hair. She always had a need to have your hair perfect, not one strand out of place. With some pins she adjusted the headpiece with the sheer black fabric and green and gold details. Your mother, Queen Alicent, could arrive any moment with your twin sister Heleana, to pick you up for prayer at the sept.

You absolutely despised it but you could never disobey your mother. You were her favourite daughter after all. She always tried to get close to Heleana but you knew your twin preferred to keep her distance from everyone. Even though you were twins, you didn’t really look alike. Both of you of course had the silver hair and lilac eyes of house Targaryen but your facial features were different from hers.

The door opened and your mother and sister entered your chamber. “My dear, how did you sleep?” Alicent asked as she adjusted your headpiece a bit, at which your handmaiden frowned. “Fine, shall we leave?” You stood up and Alicent stopped fussing with your hair, following you out instead. Strolling through the halls with your mother and sister in front of you, Aemond walked passed giving you a small smile. To which you mouthed a silent “Help me”, he chuckled as he gave you one last sympathetic smile over his shoulder.

You thanked the gods the morning passed swiftly, for you were already on your way back to the Red Keep. When you reached the door of your bedchamber you hurriedly went inside as your handmaiden stood at the ready for your, often daily, dragon ride with Aemond. She helped you quickly change into your dragon riding attire. You and Aemond have always been extremely close, always there for each other, both the favourite children. But ever since Aemond started to grasp for more power, he started to lose the favour of his mother, her now fully turning her attention to you.

Your eldest brother, Aegon, had never been much loved by your mother. And because of your maturity and grace, he started to cling to you instead. This was the root of your complicated but deep connection with your older brother, everytime he got scolded or drunk he would turn to you. Now this used to be in an innocent way but lately the winds started to shift, Heleana was more distant from him then ever, his mother had just been ignoring him and his father on the doorstep of death. You hadn’t seen him yet today, so you assumed he was still asleep, you would check on him later.

As for now, you would take to the skies with your other brother. You couldn’t admit it but the way people were terrified when the two of you flew together made you feel so powerful. Yes the two biggest dragons of the realm were a godly sight indeed. You claimed Vermithor, The Bronze Fury, at age ten and two. That evening at Dragon Stone with your family was an interesting one. Everyone either preparing for bed or still drinking and talking was disrupted by the notice of your absence and the terrifying screeches and roars from the Bronze Fury below. Your mother demanded you to be rescued at once, for Vermithor was known to be relentless and fierce, having not accepted a rider after the old king died. But you were much like the dragon when it came to fierceness, you weren’t afraid. And so when the guards, dragon keepers and your family arrived at the cave where the dragons resided. You stood there, in your nightgown, hand on Vermithor’s nose. After years the Bronze Fury had been claimed... by a little girl.

Aemond joined you in the training yard where your horses were waiting to take you to the outskirts of the city, for Vermithor and Vhagar were both too big for the Dragon Pit. You were both quick to mount and race through the city to get to your dragons. When you arrived, Vermithor and Vhagar were both resting next to each other, they too, formed a close bond, as they only had each other outside the dragon pit. Both of them lifted their heads and grumbled and roared at the sight of the two of you, knowing they could fly with their riders again. You both climbed on your mounts and took to the sky, frightening the shit out of towns beneath you.

It felt good to be with Aemond, natural but powerful at the same time. You knew his desperate want for the throne but that still couldn’t change how you saw him. By the time you came back the sun had begun to set and you both knew supper would be soon. So you returned with your brother to the Red Keep where two guards were waiting to take you to the dining room. As you both entered your mother wore a disapproving look on her face, she didn’t like the two of you flying for so long but when it also cut into her time with her family she really got annoyed. “You stink of dragon.” She began. “We only just got back mother, time gets away from us on dragon back.” Aemond defended. You took your seats next to each other, Aemond to your right. Aegon to your left. Heleana to his left. Her head down as she mumbled to herself. Aegon slumped in his seat as always, probably already drunk and waiting for supper to end so he could sneak out to his whores.

There was a tension in the air, your mothers and grandfather's eyes were on you. Only then did you really take in your mother, teary eyed, red cheeks, looking down. Weird. You thought, you looked at your grandfather, the hand of the king, questioningly. “You are twenty years old already,” He began, you still looked at him confused but deep down you knew where this was heading, again. “For 4 years I have been searching for a good match for you, I have tried again and again to match you with someone you could grow to like, maybe even love and yet, you refuse them.” Otto stood up from his chair, “Alas, I have had enough. Your father, sadly, cannot make these decisions anymore, so I have. Now an opportunity has arisen, one that I have been waiting for.”

“House Martell is looking for a fine lady to marry their second son, prince Robyn. I sent a letter a while ago and they have agreed to accept your hand.” Two hands slammed on the table as Aemond stood up in rage. “You will do no such thing! She is a Targaryen princess! She will not be married off to some Dorne cunt!” He yelled, you could only look down. You knew this day would come, where they would be fed up with your defiance and force you to marry. But it seemed your brother would not give up without a fight.

What you didn’t expect was for Aegon to stand up as well. “My sister is the most beautiful and fine Targaryen princess of the realm, I stand with Aemond. You will not marry her off to some plain man of house Martell.” You were taken by surprise, Aemond’s reaction was expected but you didn’t know Aegon cared so much too. Otto Hightower leaned slightly over the table. “She will marry him, he and his family should be here on the morrow. End of discussion!” He sneered. You stood up and left without a word. You went to bed that night knowing your calm, easy life in King’s Landing was alas over. Aemond however, thought otherwise.

After everyone had gone to bed he was still awake, mauling over the dinner. In a fit of rage at the memory he left his chambers and almost ran to his older brothers. He could hear the disturbance inside yet he did not care, not when his beloved sister was about to be sold off like a broodmare. He passed the guards and pushed open the door. Aegon's bedchambers were completely destroyed, cups, tapestries, pillows, blankets were everywhere, glass and wine splayed on the grounds and walls. Aegon was standing over a small table that used to hold his wine. “Brother.” Aemond urged. Aegon looked up, his eyes bloodshot and fist balled up. “There is only one way to stop this, to keep her here.” Aegon didn’t even respond, he just nodded. They were very different from each other but they both had one thing in common, they loved you.

You woke up from a restless sleep to the entire Red Keep in disarray, you could hear shouting and arguing from inside your bedchamber and just as you were about to open the door. Heleana entered your bedchamber, hands covering her ears. You knew if Heleana looked to hide with you, it was bad. “What is it? Hel, what happened? Tell me.” She looked at the ground and muttered. “They’re dead.” Fear struck your heart as you thought the worst, her children? Your brothers? “What?! Who is Heleana?” You grabbed her hands and sat her down on your settee. “House Martell, at least, the prince and his father. Qoren Martell is now to be their new king.” You couldn’t help but smile. “How did they die?” Heleana finally looked at you, “They say Aegon and Aemond left in the middle of the night. No one could stop them as Aegon mounted Sunfyre and Aemond mounted Vhagar, they burned them on the Fork Road until nothing but ashes were left. Grandfather is furious as you might have heard.”

That was the end of a short betrothal between you and the prince of Dorne. It took two weeks for things to finally calm in the Red Keep. But the two brothers' plans to keep you here were not completed. Sure their enemy was dead but it would be sooner or later the hand found a new match so they had to make sure you couldn’t marry. You were sitting in your bedchamber on your settee, in your nightgown, your long silver hair down while reading a book about The First Men. When all of a sudden your bedchamber creaked open, as you looked up from your book both Aegon and Aemond entered your bedchamber. You weren’t allowed to speak to them, for two weeks you hadn’t been able to leave other than to pray by your mothers request. You couldn’t help but smile as both of them entered with a mischievous grin on their faces. You also noticed the guards outside were gone.

“You know you aren’t allowed to be here.” You said closing your book. They didn’t say a word as Aegon went and sat down on the settee in front of you, while Aemond settled next to you. “For two weeks we have lived in agony of not seeing you, not speaking to you. But as you know, Aegon and I have taken matters into our own hands. You, are ours. And we will do anything and burn anyone to keep you here.” Aemond spoke as he moved your hair behind your ear, placing a featherlight kiss on your neck making your eyes flutter shut. A fire started to burn inside you, heart thumping in your chest and a tingling feeling in your abdomen. When you opened your eyes you saw Aegon looking at you through half lidded eyes, his lips parted as you noticed a bulge in his pants. You weren’t stupid, you knew what sex was and you knew what they wanted and oh did you want it too.

“You, I think, know how we can keep you here. If your innocence is ruined, you’ll have no choice but to marry Aemond. You’ll stay here and have his children and of course you can keep taking care of me as well, right sister?” Aegon spoke, now standing up and moving to sit at your right side. You could only nod as Aemond groaned and moved his hand up your thigh, while Aegon grabbed your chin and smashed his lips on yours. Moving his lips feverishly against yours. Teeth clashing, tongue entwining and hands moving to rip off any clothes that were on you in the first place. Aemond finally had you bare next to him as his hand moved between your thighs, his lips and tongue moving over your neck. You moaned in Aegon's mouth, even your filthiest fantasies couldn’t compare to the real thing.

“Need you so bad mommy.” Aegon whined against your lips. You could hear a faint chuckle from Aemond who now used two fingers to tease your wet folds. “Listen to him, you haven’t even touched him yet and he’s already begging for it.” You couldn’t even speak as Aegon refused to stop kissing you. Aemond now circling your clit with his fingers making your free hands grip the fabric of the settee. Aegon started to remove his own clothes while never leaving your lips as Aemond paused to take off his as well. Both men now in their breeches, their hard ons evident between their legs. The effect you had on them made you feel like a goddess. You had them wrapped around your finger and they had you wrapped around theirs.

Aemond moved off the settee and kneeled between your legs, you looked down at him as he undid the clasp of his eyepatch, the sapphire in his eye socket twinkling in the candlelight. Aegon moved his lips down towards your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and suckling on it like a babe. Aemond started to kiss between your thighs moving further until he reached your aching cunt. Tongue darted out as he began to lap at your folds. You could barely breathe as pleasure consumed you. Aegon sucked and licked at your breast hungrily, holding the other in his hand and using his right hand to pull down his breeches enough to free his cock. As Aemond continued to eat you like a starved man making you moan and whine, Aegon started to pump his cock, eager for that pure bliss. "Fuck- mommy-" Aegon mumbled.

Both brothers groaned and panted against you, Aemond now palming himself through his breeches. He couldn’t help it, he was too impatient. Precum started to leak from Aegon’s tip, he moaned and whined around your nipple. You couldn’t take it anymore, the erotic sounds, the feeling of one brother fucking you with his tongue and the other sucking on your breast while he was pleasuring himself, with a gasp and a plead you reached your peak. Seeing spots of how hard you squeezed your eyes shut. Your thighs clamping together around Aemonds head, which he forced right open before he stood back up. You hadn’t even noticed he removed his breeches as well. His cock stood proud, also leaking from the mere sight of you bare before him.

Aemond eyed Aegon hungrily, also seemingly turned on by the noises he made. Not to mention the sight of him at your breast while fucking his own fist. Aemond pulled Aegon of your nipple by his jaw and forced him to face his brother, before pulling him in a harsh kiss. Aegon made a strangled noise at the action and stopped pleasuring himself to hold the back of Aemond’s head, not wanting to let go of him. Then Aemond pushed his knee between Aegon's legs right against his hard cock.

Aegon gasped against his brother's lips, you whined at the sight, never had you seen such an erotic scene before you and you were begging the gods to not let it stop. Aemond didn’t stop there but started to move with more pressure against Aegon’s cock, capturing his moans in his mouth. Aegon removed himself from Aemond’s lips for a moment. “Please- don’t stop- feel so good.” He mumbled. Your hand unconsciously slid down your body, touching yourself was the only way to relieve that nagging ache that returned again. But to Aegon and to your surprise, Aemond did stop. Making Aegon whine at the removal of the contact. “On the bed, both of you.” Aemond commanded, and both of you scrambled towards your bed.

Aemond followed, positioning you like you weighed nothing. Putting you on your hands and knees, commanding Aegon to move towards your head while he stayed behind you. Aegon knew exactly what Aemond wanted and already held the base of his cock to smear his precum across your parted lips. Aemond grazed your other lips with his cock, smearing your arousal around. He reached out his hand to Aegon. “Spit.” Aegon did as told immediately and let his saliva drop onto his little brother's hand. Which Aemond used to coat his cock making it easier to breach your maidenhead. Aegon entered your mouth and hissed at the feeling, somehow this was better then any whores cunt. His sister and his brother sharing the bed with him was better than a thousand whores.

You softly sucked on Aegon’s cock while Aemond pushed the head of his into your cunt. You whined around Aegon while Aemond sank further into you, a shuddering breath leaving his lips at the feeling of his sister's tight hole around him. He had waited so long, feeling sure that the two of you would be wed but that day never came, and it would never unless he took the matter into his own hands. Moans, gasps and panting filled the moonlit room, it was almost an ethereal sight. Three silver haired bodies becoming one. When Aemond felt you relax and Aegon started to carefully fuck your mouth, he started to move as well. Wanting nothing more than to fill you with his seed that would hopefully take root so he could finally make you his wife and mother of his children. "Oh mommy feels so good-" Aegon whined.

As your moans grew louder, Aemond started to fuck into you harder. Gripping your hips so he could move you against him as well. Aegon was the first to finish, being already so pent up and horny he didn’t last long in your warm wet mouth. With a gasp of your name he filled your throat with his cum, fingers entangled in your hair for support. He pulled his softening dick out and laid down next to you catching his breath. Aemond started to now pound into you like a wild animal, it seemed as if he was so lost in pleasure he couldn’t hear or see anything else but you. Aegon however, with a clearer mind, sat up and moved closer to you. Letting his hand trace your body to where you and Aemond were connected.

Moving his fingers until he found your clit, you confirmed with a moan. He let his fingers rub against your sweet spot adding to the pleasure of your building orgasm. You pleaded for more, and Aegon started to move his fingers in rhythm with Aemond. This was all you needed, all you needed to scream out their names while gripping the sheets in ecstasy. Your walls clenched around Aemond, making him see stars. Aegon removed his fingers and watched in awe as his brother fucked you relentlessly.

However Aemond’s thrusts were getting sloppier. And his cursing and groaning made it clear he was about to peak as well. With a couple of final thrusts he came hard. Making sure to go as deep as possible, he spurted his cum right against your cervix. Surely filling your womb with his spent. Giving you a couple of lazy trusts he made sure to be completely milked empty before pulling out. Letting himself fall on the bed next to you so he could pull you against his side. Aegon, not wanting to be left out of it, crawled against your other side, cuddling up next to you. What you didn’t notice, was how the door was accidentally left ajar. Your brothers made sure the entire Red Keep knew of your bedding. Surely they can’t deny Aemond his sister now?

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #hotd smut #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x aemond targaryen x reader smut #aegon targaryen x aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aemond x reader

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azzo0 · 6 months

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cw: death

Katsuki held his sons' hands tightly so they did not run away from him as they walked down the bustling streets. The twins were really chaotic and loved running. Sometimes, Katsuki wondered if they ever got tired of it.

"Hurry up, mama is waiting for us!" The youngest of the twins exclaimed, trying to walk ahead of his father.

"Slow down, Naoki," Katsuki sighed for the hundredth time, "Look at your brother. He's walkin' nice n' slow."

"Kaoru is a slow poke!"

"Papa, Nao's makin' fun of me again!" Kaoru complained, tugging on Katsuki's hand.

"Be nice, Naoki." Katsuki reminded. It was often difficult for him to get the two to stop arguing over minuscule reasons like who got the last bottle of strawberry milk or who got to keep the TV remote. There was never a dull day when you had two mini Katsuki's around.

They finally arrived at the flower shop, much to the twins' delight, "No running," Katsuki reminded, "You'll knock the flowers down."

He leaned by the counter, watching the twins ogle at the vibrant array of flowers with bright cherry eyes. They always spent a few minutes admiring pretty and sweet-smelling flowers before buying their mother's favourite ones.

"Okay, boys, done looking around?" Katsuki said at last.

"Yes, papa." The two replied in unison.

"Then which flowers are ya getting for Mama?"

"Lilies!" The twins exclaimed. The florist smiled and wrapped the delicate white lilies with care, handing the bouquet to Katsuki after he paid. He felt a tug at his jeans and looked down to see Kaoru pointing a small finger at something. Katsuki followed the direction of his finger to see a shelf with teddy bears and other small gift items.

"Can we get Mama a teddy? It's her birthday, just flowers won't do!"

"Yes, let's get Mama a teddy too!!" Naoki agreed. Katsuki hummed in response and paid for the teddy holding a red heart, handing it to Kaoru.

"Can I hold the flowers?" Naoki asked.

"Sure," Katsuki gave the bouquet to Naoki, stifling a smile at the fact that the bouquet was too big for his little arms.

Katsuki took the boys to a tranquil place, his heart aching when the twins' once excited steps slowed down. The brothers stood side by side, their heads hung low. Katsuki kneeled down beside his sons, brushing his fingers over the cool headstone. He glanced at the twins and ruffled their hair, giving them a smile even though his chest squeezed and his heart bled. He did it for the sake of them. He wanted his babies to smile.

He watched their lips tug up in the smallest smile. Naoki set the lilies down on the earth while Kaoru let the teddy sit by the headstone. The two sat down on their knees, "Happy birthday, Mama."

"We miss you so much," Kaoru mumbled.

"We wish you were here," Naoki sniffled, "Then we could buy a big cake, and Papa would take us on a picnic. You like picnics, right, Mama? Come back to us. Papa misses you too."

Katsuki felt his throat closing up at the sight of the twins huddled together as they tried to maintain a brave front. Beads of tears welled in his waterline. He held his arms open, and the boys got up to bury themselves in their father's chest. He held them close to him, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Happy birthday, my love.

#cw: death #bakugo angst #bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #dad bakugou #azzo writes

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wandafiction · 7 months

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Just Us - Series List

Y/n is a multimillionaire. Wanda Maximoff is a divorced mum of two twin boys who is trying her best. What happens when their paths cross at a club and Y/n takes Wanda home for the night?

Warnings: This story is an 18+ read, Minors DNI, contains talks and description of Death, Accidents, Injury, Child Loss, Abuse (Physical and Emotional), Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Suggestive themes, Smut (Each Chapter With Themes Explained), Angst (Lots of It), And Some Fluff Thrown in because I felt bad. Top Reader, Bottom Wanda

Each chapter will come with their own warnings.

This is a story that I have put up on my Wattpad and my Ao3 and thought I would share it here for more of you wonderful people. I do hope you enjoy this read. There will be mistakes here and there and maybe some incorrect translations.

So this is an AU story with the MCU characters. So the ages and story lines with be changed and different from that in the movies.

I will right some history for each character as the story progresses just so ages and other things make sense.

All the Character's in this are played by their respective actors and certain aspects of the MCU have been added in. But once again its not going to be an alternative marvel story it is a completely different universe.

I don't own any if the MCU characters.

Master List

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - Yours or Mine

Chapter 2 18+ - First Time

Chapter 3 - How Much

Chapter 4 18+ - Beautiful

Chapter 5 - Accent

Chapter 6 - The Twins

Chapter 7 - Just Add 8

Chapter 8 - Panic Attack

Chapter 9 - Sounds Like A date

Chapter 10 - Happy Tears

Chapter 11 - Twenty Percent

Chapter 12 - Favourite Colour

Chapter 13 - Ex-husbands Clothes

Chapter 14 18+ - Trust is Not Like Candy

Chapter 15 - Morning Bliss

Chapter 16 - Sisterly Advice

Chapter 17 - Lunch Date

Chapter 18 - Not By Blood, By Choice

Chapter 19 18+ - Frozen Peas

Chapter 20 - Scarlet Witch

Chapter 21 - Iron Man

Chapter 22 18+ - Love Language

Chapter 23 - The Friends

Chapter 24 - Hela's Kitchen

Chapter 25 - The Question

Chapter 26 - From Second To First

Chapter 27 - Mr Blue Sky

Chapter 28 - Protective Friend

Chapter 29 - It's Real To Me

Chapter 30 - Pile On

Chapter 31 18+ - Water Fight

Chapter 32 - Head Scratches

Chapter 33 - Billy's Discovery

Chapter 34 - Superhero Trio

Chapter 35 - Pancakes and L Bombs.

Chapter 36 - 10 Out Of 10 Dive

Chapter 37 - Tickle Monster

Chapter 38 - Sarah Stark

Chapter 39 - Love Persevering

Chapter 40 - First Meeting

Chapter 41 - Hear, Listen, Take It In

Chapter 42 - Touch

Chapter 43 - Mockingbird

Chapter 44 - Family

Chapter 45 - Search Party

Chapter 46 - Bowl Of Popcorn

Chapter 47 - Pet Names

Chapter 48 18+ - Trying Something New

Chapter 49 - French Braids

Chapter 50 - Not Taking Advantage

Chapter 51 - To Understand Someone

Chapter 52 - The Row

Chapter 53 18+ - I Need You

Chapter 54 - Your Flaws Are Your Strengths

Chapter 55 18+ - Jealousy

Chapter 56 - I Can't Be Here

Chapter 57 - Stephanie Grace Turner

Chapter 58 - Zak The Waiter

Chapter 59 18+ - Declarations

Chapter 60 - Clingy

Chapter 61 - Triple Chocolate Brownies

Chapter 62 - Watch Me

Chapter 63 - Grown-Up Conversations

Chapter 64 - A+

Chapter 65 18+ - Dynamic

Chapter 66 - You Don't Get It

Chapter 67 - Conditioned

Chapter 68 - Selachimorpha

Chapter 69 - Beed Stroganoff

Chapter 70 - Ruby-Throated Hummingbird

Chapter 71 - Realisations

Chapter 72 - Princess

Chapter 73 - The Talk

Chapter 74 - Black Widow

Chapter 75 - Can I Join You

Chapter 76 - Люли, люли, люленьки

Chapter 77 - Moose

Chapter 78 - Aurora Borealis

Chapter 79 - Calgary

Chapter 80 18+ - Mirror

Chapter 81 - Massage and Important Conversations

Chapter 82 - Banff

Chapter 83 - Strawberries

Chapter 84 - Bayushki Bayu

Chapter 85 - Cookies

Chapter 86 18+ - Control

Chapter 87 - Hyper Puppy

Chapter 88 - Treehouse

Chapter 89 - 312

Chapter 90 - Forgiveness

Chapter 91 18+ - Always Feel Good

Chapter 92 - Your Third Love

Chapter 93 18+ - Daddy

Chapter 94 - Home

Chapter 95 - Stalker

Chapter 96 - Can't Catch A Break

Chapter 97 18+ - Mile High Club

Chapter 98 - Happy

Chapter 99 - Halloween

Chapter 100 - What's In The Box?

Chapter 101 - Hired

Chapter 102 - I've Got You

Chapter 103 - Missed Morning Message

Chapter 104 - Someone I Would Like You To Meet

Chapter 105 - Sis

Chapter 106 - Soulmates

Chapter 107 - Eleos

Chapter 108 - I Called Her Mom

Chapter 109 - Suka

Chapter 110 - How Have I Made It Worse?

Chapter 111 - What Scares You?

Chapter 112 - I Thought I Was Helping

Chapter 113 - What If They Leave?

Chapter 114 - Yelena!

Chapter 115 - Puppy In Training

Chapter 116 - Your Wish Is My Command

Chapter 117 - Morning Sex

Chapter 118 - Safe

Chapter 119 - Work On Yourself

Chapter 120 - Happy Thanksgiving

Chapter 121 - I Hate This

Chapter 122 - To Be A Deer

Chapter 123 - Is Love Enough?

Chapter 124 - Let's Go Out Out

Chapter 125 - Feeling Of Rejection

Chapter 126 - You Should Hate Me

Chapter 127 - You Ready?

Chapter 128 - Pietro

Chapter 129 - Questions And Opinions

Chapter 130 - What Are You Up To?

Chapter 131 - When Pigs Fly

Chapter 132 - Science Lesson

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda smut #wanda maximoff smut #bottom wanda #bottom wanda maximoff #sub wanda #sub wanda maximoff #top reader #bottom wanda x top reader #sub wanda maximoff x top reader #bottom wanda maximoff x top reader #sub wanda x top reader #marvel au #Just Us Series

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sukunasurface · 17 days

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Tailored Made Monster

content: princess!readerx HeianEra!sukuna, mention of cannibalism and death post-established relationship, down bad for you, mentions of having kids and killing people for love. Yandere Sukuna. Belief yet extremely badly mentioned of Sexual activity

Summary: all monsters deserve to live and you all willing to gave a helping hand to a 7 year old child just to regret 14 years later.

A/n: it's a Longer Ver of this. I have a really unfunny Brainrot for Kid!sukuna. So. Much so I open a blog to speak.

For any icky grammar mistakes I failed in English 4 times

What my little empress learned today?" The emperor Gently scoops a 5 Years year old to cradle her father eagerly enveloping her in a warm and comforting embrace in his lap. The emperor wisely runs his fingers to appease his belly in an effort to elicit a warm smile from his daughter. Which she does.

"A tiger may don the garb of a sheep" she replied

It's a unusual to call a father his daughter "his empress". Expect the fact lost of past Empress in a childbirth left an unavoidable void leaving his daughter his only successor to throne and official Heir.

"Such a wise Words from my little Empress" emperor Laughed.

"And now My little empress it's a time for Us to see your Favourite Deers in Forest isn't it" his daughter couldn't help but smile widely on the thought of spending more time with her father. Despite the misfortune Emperor faced by the hands of cruel faith. he was still able to secure a soft spot for the only family he had left. He leaned back on his horse back adjusting his position so that no evil vision can strike upon her, the little girl giggled and snuggled closer, her tiny hands clutching at his royal attire to lost in a green atmosphere or to the wonders of the world.

His calm demeanor shifted ever so slightly as she asked him about wild life lurking behind a shadow couldn't wait to buried long canines onto her soft flash. He listened carefully, nodding and answering questions where necessary. However, his thoughts couldn't help but drift back to the rumours around the state.

"A monster eating men.."

A cannibal?

His calm exterior was a mask hiding his burning rage and thirst for vengeance. Before he heard heart shattering scream. On a normal Account Emperor would Run into the deeper and Darkest Corner of The Forest To be able to see human flesh eating monster lurking around the corners but not now. Not when His only child is sitting right beside him.

"My little Empress you must always be careful," he said, his tone more serious than before. "Our enemies are everywhere, but you need to trust your father to take you back to back."

Maybe that was a faith or Cruelty of nature.

Emperor lost a track of his precious Daughter in a midst of chaos while he Lost his control over horse while a Foe's bow a pieced his Fore foot. Blinded by the sheer agony Poor Horse Resort to Throw everything on his back including The little Princess

"A Jungle is as Gentle as Cruel it's Get"

His cautious and confused gaze slid over to the little princess, his jaws still clenching down on the dripping flesh of the vile old man. He took a moment to swallow before speaking, the sound of bones crunching echoing through the otherwise tranquil night jungle. He couldn't be bother wiping the blood on his small body or his two sets of extra Limbs or eyes under eyes from sharp vision of all the beautiful creature as a once is still sitting is miserable position in front of her. Instead, he cocked his head ever so slightly, a faint glint of interest flashing in his crimson eyes. Maybe it was a pure curiosity which made him sit in front of her.

"I'm Hungry..?"

he respond in all the Unanswered questions he Can pin to himself. voice as steady as the deepest ocean currents.

Are you the Boy who ate his whole family?

Didn't you ate your twin brother in your mother's womb?

Since you born you only gave your late mother pain

and by the end you Ate her too.

A cannibal

"I -I was Hung-ry"

The boy's appearance did shock you - in the world you now lived in, such sights had become sin itself. A Royal Blood Should never be Tarnest by a single touch of a Monster Ryomen Sukuna is.

"I-. A- I- miss my father" You couldn't remember the last time you had been startled by anything. So You Can bearly put you Fingers down if you Answered him correctly. Your father's affection never allowed you to dreamed somewhat similiar to your circumstances.

Sukuna thought, forcing his four of eyes stays focus on her. He rubbed blood by back of his hand chewing the hard flesh in his mouth before swallowing it completely. Maybe a .. reward? He let out a sigh, a low whisper escaping his throat before he finally turned his full attention to her. With his mouth still half open, displaying his small protruding teeth corner of his lips, he spoke.

"Your father? The Great Leader of this kingdom?"

He said, his voice couldn't hide a hope of an opportunity. However, there was a hint of something else, something softer, hidden deep within those praise words. He couldn't quite understand why he trusted a cry baby marinated with a dirt. He was better than all these humans, yet here he was, sitting across from a crying princess in the middle of a jungle, listening to her talk about her lost father.

"I'm not Allowed near imperial palace but.. I know way out of Jungle"

He stood up from his crouched position, hunging his head as if he's criminal Guilty of being alive as A monster and all of his faith belongs to a small girl right in front of him. His extra limbs crossed behind his back a poor attempt to hide his monstrosity. as he did so, casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. "But," He continued, "My Lady You're not like them, those who unable to protect? You're different. You're...Strongest. you will paved your own way" He said the last word with a strange sense of empathy. He didn't know why he felt like hiding his extra limb or cover a mouth on his stomach even with all effort he could never hide his soul. A two sets of eyes.

"Let me Walk in front of you so My Lady you can Walk to your Home" A Monster kid Bows Rubbing his Forehead on dirt of Jungle praying to No one Let it once be him. For a Once.

"You ...Shall lead- me Home as my personal Guard"

He looked at You, his crimson eyes softening. "You Sit Back My lady. there's a river near And I need to wash my Face hands my Clothes," he blured all of his words gently; extending a hand towards her "just soaking is.. enough?"

Then he knew she was special. Maybe it was the fact that she could see past his monstrous exterior and passes kind words to emperor to let him live like others. And You did. It take a unexpectedly a shorter period of time of inconvenient amount of proposal to plea of mercy of a 7 years old child who eat his own family before he saw a blue sky lives in a kingdom even nears to a castle or her own "little Empress" and all its comes from a small pledge from his Side to never Dreamed of Holding a weapon or resort with violence and unwavering trust Emperor Had on a Monk system and education. Which only solidify for sixteen years.

"Ryomen San~ it's Such a Honour as a Lady of this Castle I still need to send words to my Royal Guard for visiting me"

Once a little princess is now a His royal Highness. The time you spend was evidently the way you can withstand in a Circumstance you've thrown into. You have grown, indeed. Your once small frame now holds the shape of a woman, although the innocence in your eyes remains unchanged. It's almost amusing how you've tried to mad just to forgive anyone under a single whim.

The young man looks at you.

"Well, My Lady that is quite the predicament, isn't it?" he finally replied, his voice as cold as the night air around them. He bows in front of her and settled onhis crouched position, his two sets of limbs tugged deeper In his torso. "My apologies My Lady. Ever since I've Taken Shrine under my wings my hands being full all the time."said it as if it was the most distasteful thing he could think of doing, but the truth was, he never adore having a workload to the Extend he Misses a Prime Motive of his existence. "My lady ship's Protection".

"I see I see Shrine is indeed holds More Value Than Me" You for sure upfront your distaste but Sukuna barely can reply as he already know one day this might come. Emperor must've shown him a kindness yet one way or another he will create a space between them he can never overcome.

"My Lady any Order for me?"

"Rises your head as you can see. I desires the Plum Fruit. Go and fetch me few"

He glances at the plum tree and then looks back at you, a slight amused smirk on his face.

"Plum, huh? My lady if that's all what you need me for.." he tired to muffle his laughter but failed miserably

"then Temple do seems hold more value"

His eye raise at your pout but I let the pitiful look slide. After all, you are More than his Lady. All he ever loved he only loved you. . Turning on his heel, he stalk towards the tree where the Plum Fruit grows, his pink hair shines like bright wave summer waves. he pluck it off the branch effortlessly with one hand, feeling the weight of it in his palm. he moves back to you where he hold plum fruit just so you reject it.

"is there anything troubling My lady?"

"No"

"Have i Commit Any crime My lady? If So i Am-"

"No! this plum fruit is For you. Many Many Congratulation for Turning 23 years old today"

Maybe it's a weight of This life or seer desensitization that when he decides to rise his head something Raw surfaces in his eyes. soft grumble escaped from deep within Sukuna's throat at the mention of his birthday. "I'm wholeheartedly grateful for you to even consider to Wish me Today. My lady" Sukuna bearly touched by a human concept at it's best all he does Is wonder if he's human Enough for that. . But as your eyes twinkled with Gentle love and happiness, his lips curved upward in a reluctant smile.* "Am I allowed to clear my thoughts?" *he muttered, whilst you nodded.

"How Can you be Sure that Today is a Right day?"

"Oh that... Well High Priest proved me all of your Records ages ago but I never feels like there's something in those record I might be unaware of. But I suppose I can't say that now"

".."

"And I think A day without Duties and delicious Meal is an Excellent Present for you"

"My Lady I'm always and forever grateful for you Our Royal Highness and all the priest But I wants to Surve you even Today" words dripping with shock yet a large magnitude of Gratification. But you could always see through his facade. recognizing the hidden hesitation in his voice.

"Sukuna No you're Not allow to Defy My Orders"

His fingers stiffen at her words for a moment before he resumed his absent-minded caress, gaze shifting back to the The lady standing in front of him. So Alive Yet So away The palace is alive with the summer crickets and birds; their calls echoing through the vast space. "how can I return debts of your kindness My lady?" he asked, bowing his head to in front of his only Lord a sole Subject of his prayers and Power with a monstrous Exterior it's easy to conclude that he's uncivilized and violent. Deep Down everyone near him knows he doesn't believe in any superior being than his Lady so when she Orders him to pledge never Rise a weapon. He devote himself in a cooking offerings to shrine and protecting his lady.

Sukuna's thoughts drifted back to his early days, when he was just a feral child fending for himself in these very woods he Is protecting for. The memory seemed like a lifetime ago now, replaced with prayers and protective ness . He wondered what that young Sukuna would have thought of this moment.

"I always Feel uneasy to know That Future Empress of the Greatest empire History might Ever say is Guarded by a Four armed Monster. How Can you Assure me Your Highness that Monster won't bury his Wild canine in a meantime?"

Possibly on the Bad Day Sukuna's might fall on his knee and help everyone to revisit all the time his loyality never fails. In sixteen years of his life if He ever touched his lady with his four arms collectively. But all these sixteen years helps him to get over from the idea to please everyone. He already comes to account that it's just a Waste of breathe. Without making his presence know he decided to abandon all the duties for today cause of a order placed upon him.

"Maybe drinking Sake will help me enough to get through the day"

His steps carry him towards the nearest liquor shop. quaint little store nestled between two larger brothels. As he enters, the nasty aroma of various body so does old sake fills his nose, and he takes a deep breath, savoring the familiar scent. He had never indulged in drinking himself, but something keep telling him that this is one the places he could blend. A palace women tries throw herself to be loved by him even its for a night or for gold coins. The sat on a table shortly after a owner approaches the him. "Good afternoon, lord Ryomen" the man says with a smile filled with fear.

"It's not often we see you in here during the daylight. To what do we owe this pleasure?" Sukuna couldn't help but smile at politeness.

"I am merely felt thirty " he replies curtly,

"Oldest Sake you have. I'm in mood to celebrate" The shopkeeper nods understandingly hurried back with a gorgeous curvy Women piled with used yet expensive jewelry he recognised many on a noble women. A true seductress. Oiran Sitting by his side. Pouring a short of sake.

"Lord Ryomen.. is a Sake is all you thirsty for?"

At the sound of the woman's voice, Sukuna's still expression unreadable. "Thirty, huh?" he echoes, considering her suggestion. "A blood will do" As words left his lips the silence around him was deafening before he laughed forcing others to join in. "The western liquor resemble blood in colour.. perhaps a Red Wine will do better" she forced a meek smile as she disappears to fetch his drink.

Crowd resettle and retraced the conversations. For a while Sukuna Appreciate The Crimson liquid catches the light, casting a warm glow across the wooden interior. He brings the cup to his lips, letting the familiar bitterness wash over his tongue. Maybe, just maybe, he could allow himself this one indulgence today. As he drinks, Sukuna's thoughts begin to wander. He pictures You, laughing and enjoying themselves without the burden of his constant surveillance. The thought brings a strange mixture of relief and longing. He wants His Lady to be happy, truly happy, without the constraints of their royalty and social responsibility. But at the same time, he yearns to be there. One of this favourite memories are the Child like Curiosity of yours wanting to know if similar to his half of body do he also possesses two hearts trapped in his chest?. To which he suggest her to listen his heartbeat to know the truth. Which You do. As you sit inbetween his open legs just you can press your left side of ears on his chest. Concluding That.

Ryomen Sukuna Processes only a One Heart.

Which he only let it beat for her.

"Prince Nanami is a Perfect Match for Our Princess!"

"I heard Prince Nanami receive his Primary Education from Foreign"

"This tell why colour of his hair is as Shiny as a bright as Sunshines"

" I understand this. He also Mastered 4 languages in such a short time. I can tell no one is better for our Princess than Prince Nanami"

"I can't wait for Prince Nanami and Our Princess's heavenly Union.

How long he it been to the day he Met you? Fourteen years? Fifteen years? Sixteen? Yes Sixteen years Sukuna's grip on fragile Cup tightens involuntarily at the mention of heavenly union. The only two words he cant attach to himself. From the Day he met You. There's a barely a day he didn't learned something new about You. He has all rights to claim that he knew 'His Lady' from the Root. Yet here you are Failing him. Failing him to teach that your name Is now going to attached mustard haired Royal blood. thought of You ever hurting him like that is almost unbearable. He bearly acknowledged his Nails digging inside his plam or the ever tarnished honor while he was rubbing his Nose on foot in a moonless night led by a candle yet witnesses by Darkness.

"My Lady-! You can! You CAN DISMISS THIS MARRIAGE PROPOSAL YOU CAN-!! I SAVED YOU FROM THE DAY I KNOW I EVER ONLY KNO-W YO-U!! MY LADY!-!"

the pain. He knows she will never consider to do something like that, but the insecurity is still there, gnawing away at him. He takes a deep breath before answering, trying to keep his voice steady. "M--My.. lady?" he says, looking her straight in the eye, "I'll trust that it's for a reason I don't understand yet." He leans in again, pressing a soft kiss to you foot. "And besides," he murmurs against her skin, "you'-." You pulls back slightly and fluffy Red Faced wiping the last tear strings.

"You're Dismissed Permanently From your All Royal imperial Duties from the Moment now.. Except Shrine."

"My Lady...?"

"This conversation never Happened only you wants to devote yourself to Temple and Shrine"

His grip on her feet loosen completely he heard the sternness in her voice, but he didn't look up, still unable to meet her gaze. His breaths were shallow, his heart hammering against his chest. He had never felt this vulnerable before, he was crying his four eyes out moaning and begging double the amount a man Can but He couldn't beg more In exchange of anything he can't ask you to gave yourself to him. He knew Prince Nanami was everything he can ever dreamed to be. but he couldn't.

"My Lady, your beauty is heavenly Unmatched"

"Of course it is. Our lady is a Bride today and Red embroidered her radiant beauty"

Room filled with chuckle and praise for the record. You looks heavenly in a Red kimono with haori symbol of prosperity and peacefulness. Temple was filled with elderly and all the imperial family members and guest to witness a union of love and mutual respect. If someone still asked you why you thinks that Prince Nanami is a perfect Match for you and Your Nation. You perhaps couldn't answer more than Prince Nanami's Extensive Knowledge and Understanding of imperial Affair, financial decision and fairly similar praisal as everyone present here and there.

You couldn't wholeheartedly say you missed presence of a Certain someone especially not when you scraped all of his rights and duties related to you. Not when he abandoned temple and shrine next following day. But there's a saying goes like

"River made it's own way"

When the melodious bell rings everyone's excitement of rises to the clouds. It's a time to witness union of Two souls made out of same stars. Stars which burns into brightest red before anyone can tell what it was before.

Red.

"The red hue of your kimono blends well with the blood-stained floor, my lady" Sukuna throws a severed Hand of an Old.

Just like old times.

Sukuna's luke warm gaze swept across the carnage before landing on you. "Only if i didn't know you any better my lady. I must 've confuses your emotions with something else"

He was a picture of calm amidst the carnage, his pink hair standing out like a twisted rose among thorns. His crimson red eyes seemed filled Plea.With a heavy thud, his Slow step hit the wooden floor as he walked towards her, leaving a trail of crimson footprints behind him.

"I'm not allowed to beg or plea you anymore but My Lady I can't help to choose this."

The room fell silent, As He stopped right in front of You, his towering frame casting a menacing shadow over her petite figure.

"My lady..."

He breaths, his voice deep and commanding.

"I claimed you as Conquered Bride."

He said with a False authority, the corners of his lips curling upwards to reveal sharp teeth.

"My lady."

He extended his hand, in attempt to wipe tear dripping off her face yet proceed to smeared god prohibited who's blood. This ridicul him so well he couldn't help but laughted like a Monster He was

"Hmm.. It's a only Way I can gave you honour and reclaim mine. My.. love!?"

Sukuna chuckles coldly, a cruel gleam in his eyes. He leans even closer to her, studying her expression a slightly opened red stained lips. A sweet hue of red around her eyes due to excessive crying or red rising around edges of her haori. So beautiful so similar to his vary distinctive eyes.

"Yo-u... Ryomen-- sukuna... You .. I fought. . So hard for you.. from the day I know you I used my all power to save people see you as a.. monster but I.. you ruined it for me"

"What have I done? I have claimed you, my lady. I have made you mine, in the most primal and politically correct way possible. I have forge a War for you. And As for a monster"

With a swift motion, Sukuna reaches out to grab your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. So gently and with care you can't tell was he truly a same entity behind corspe laying around. His expression is unreadable

"You build me. You Tailor me so perfectly for yourself the horror of today happens. A man who lives and dies at your whim? A man who learned languages so you can enjoy all the poetry in the world? Man letting you test his monstrous Exterior let you listen my heartbeat so you know I have a singular heart? You Tailored Me."

although the betrayal in your eyes remains unchanged. It's almost amusing how you didn't even tried to hide it, but he see it clearly. You tremble before me as you did when he first laid eyes on you alone in forest unguarded with A monster.

"Now now Now Love. Act all flustered like a Little Bride and followed the the rituals of our Union"

"Master Are you Sure that Her Highness is Ready?"

Sukuna Ryomen, clad in his dark kimono. expression remained calm, his demeanor collected as he responded to Uraume.

"She's a Education woman. She won't go against to her husband on a first night whether she's grieving or not"

However, deep within him, a maelstrom of emotions brewed. He had taken her family, her home, and now claimed her as his own, yet she still had the power to affect him in ways he couldn't comprehend.

He walked into a room just before the weeping figure of yours in the dimly lit bridal chamber. He paused for a moment, observing her sorrow-stricken countenance and trembling shoulders, the light from the nearby lantern casting eerie shadows across the room. Inwardly, he felt a twinge of something unfamiliar, but quickly pushed it aside as he approached her with a measured gait.

"My lady," he said softly, his tone gentle despite the harsh reality of the situation. He knelt beside her, reaching out to gently lift her chin so that she would look at him.

"Ple-please just tonight Just for a nig-"

"You know I can't My Love-"

His fingers traced the line of her spine as he gently pulls her closer, similar when he does let her know he only have a singular heart. his thumb catches a stray tear.

"We'll keep it very soft and gentle is that alright?" he inquired, his crimson gaze holding her captivated. Despite the coldness in his eyes, there was genuine concern. "You're allowed to dig your nails or curse me louder if that's suits you more, understood?"

He silently looked over her blood on her haori is god know how many of people after her father he lost count, dear heaven how long he've been hiding his true nature For now, he simply offers comfort, pulling her closer into his embrace un volunteering tighten his grip on her to the extent he can hear her soft grasps for air

"My Lady," he whispered into her hair, allowing his hand to run down her arm soothingly. "Your tears stain my robes. Your own Haori is ruined by filthy blood. Let us not waste this night on sorrow. Instead, allow me to show you that I can offer you more than just this title." Sukuna's voice held a note of reassurance, but there was also an underlying determination. He would make her forget her sorrows, even if only temporarily.

"My Love," he said again, emphasizing his love this time. "I break the bridge between Us. Now. We. Are. One." His hand moved to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her lips. Sukuna couldn't help but appreciate the softness of her skin against his calloused fingers. He leaned in further, closing the distance between them until their lips were almost touching. His other arm encircled her waist, pulling her closer. "Your hatred or Grief couldn't help you tonight. my lady." He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before trailing his lips down to hers, capturing her mouth in a gentle yet insistent kiss. Despite his sexual innocence, Sukuna knew how to be persuasive

Sukuna continued to rain light, feathery kisses along your collarbone, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath she took. "Such a pretty sight to have" he thought, unable to hide the satisfaction that coursed through him. His fingers trailed down her side, lightly grazing her ribcage before coming to rest on her hip. The heat radiating from her body was intoxicating, making it difficult for him to unleash his another set of arms to touch. However, he was determined to honor his word and be gentle.

His lips continued their path, moving to clothes in his way her bare skin, he can still heard her small gasp unaware whether it is because of kisses on her skin or pain in her chest. Sukuna smiled against her skin, enjoying her reactions immensely. His hand slid under her back, supporting her as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth. It's unclear whether she granted it or not, he groaned low in his throat, the sound reverberating through his chest. The sensation of their tongues tangling together sent sparks of electricity shooting through his veins, making his already strained self-control falter.

"This" he breathes heavyly while pointing on her bridal attire. "This needs to comes out." He speaks, trying to keep his actions slow and gentle despite the fire burning within him.

"Suk- Lord Ryomen Please don't do this to-"

Sukuna's eyes narrowed slightly at her words, a flash of irritation crossing his face. He hadn't expected such defiance from her, not after everything that had transpired. "Lord Ryomen?" he smirks,

"Why wouldn't I? Didn't you paid enough attention on your Bridal lessons?" His hand trailed up corners of her clothes stopping where a thick thin string holds everything out, gripping gently yet firmly. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke in a low voice.

"Or the monster you made isn't a monster you need"

his fingers deftly working to free her from its constraints.

"Come on my love. You're well educated and manner woman. I didn't need to explain you much do I?" Once it was loose, he pulled it away, revealing her naked form to his hungry gaze. He swallowed hard, his eyes taking in every inch of her body as if committing it to memory. His actions might have been considered possessive, but his touch remained tender as he ran his hands over her curves, exploring her softness. He wanted to learn every part of her, every sensitive spot that would bring her pleasure. As he lowered his head to kiss her lips again still enjoying that she quit protesting until she didn't , he was thrown back when he taste metal on his tongue yet didn't pulled out expected he grabbed her shoulder and gently back on bed.

Sukuna Ryomen cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remaining tears. "My Love," he said, emphasizing her name, "Act like you're the Girl In love" His gaze was intense, as if he was Forcing her to believe him. "Act like my touch is what's keeps you alive."

Cause if you didn't.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. his hands moving to encircle her waist.

"I'll make you do it. Brat"

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whendeeplybored · 3 months

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My favourite thing about Zuko and Katara is that they both are the sun and the moon. They are red and blue.

Let me explain.

Obviously at first glance Katara is the moon and Zuko is the sun, right ?

Katara is a water bender. Waterbending is associated with the moon since the benders draw their power from it. Contrastingly Zuko is a fire bender who draws his power from the Sun. So naturally we associate Zuko with the Sun and Katara with the moon.

It is also a fully established parallel in 'The siege of the North' with one of Zuko's hardest bars:

But anyways I'm gonna guess you all know this :p It is all pretty obvious after all.

What is very interesting to me is this. Hear me out. When you really think about it. Traditionally speaking. A sun-coded character is bright, fierce, fiery, attracts attention and brings joy and hope.

Isn't that the perfect description of a certain 14-year-old hair loop wearer we all know ?

On the other hand, traditionally a moon coded character is cold, sensitive, empathetic, maybe grumpy and sad, a light that only glows in the darkness (if that even makes sense lol, I mean they might try to find glory and success by being on the wrong side of history). Again doesn't that remind you of a scarred pretty boy from that old ass Nickelodeon show?

So what I mean is that in the concept of the show Zuko = sun and Katara = moon but outside of that Zuko can very much equal moon and Katara can fit the characteristics of a sun coded character.

This Tumblr post describes another side of it so well:

The Sun coded character here is a perfect description of Katara especially in the Southern Raiders episode which explores a side of her we just don't talk about enough ! I know the episode creates loaaads of drama but we can all agree (I hope) that she had a lot of bottled up rage which just exploded and almost overtook her in that episode. And do I even have to explain the moon coded one is literally Prince Zuko of a corrupt Fire nation who fought to lead his people into an era of peace or ? He even fits the stereotypical one perfectly (he do be moody and grumpy).

The writers just gave this perfect duality to them both like uuurgh!!! The fact that, in season 3, Katara learns that waterbending can be pain and death and not just the healing flow of life she thought it was and then a few episodes later Zuko discovers that firebending is also life rather than just destruction. Like wow how genius !!

*sigh*

Bottom line is Zuko and Katara really are the twin flames they think they are. 🙂‍↕️

Two beautiful raging purple flames.

#zuko #katara #zutara #zuko x katara #avatar the last airbender #atla #long reads #zutara meta

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gor3-hound · 4 months

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jujutsu kaisen works (dark content)

☆ salvation

ft. cult leader!suguru geto x reader

tw: non/dub-con, corruption

“Thank you for your help, Master Geto. I feel a lot better now. It's been a while since I managed to get a full-night's sleep.” You reply, offering him a gentle smile. Your eyes still look a little hazy, as if you're about to fall asleep any moment. Suguru decides to put his plan into action.

You're not quite delirious enough to miss the way his hand wanders along your side, caressing the curve of your hip and giving it a squeeze before he slips his hand under your shirt, feeling the fever hot skin of your stomach. His eyes flick up as he hears the cup being set on the table, your brows furrowed in confusion.

☆ daddy's home

ft. real dad!toji x reader

tw: incest

“Ah. You're my favourite, anyway.” He tells you, and you smile. You know you're only his favourite because you put up with his shit, but it still makes you happy to hear him say that. You can see the way his lips curl into a smirk at that, and he slowly drags his gaze along your body. You're not sure you appreciate the way he's looking at you, though. Like, it's great to get some attention from your dad for once, but that doesn't exactly mean you want him looking at you like you're a piece of meat.

☆ bark or bite - commission

ft. real dad!toji x reader

tw: incest, dub-con

“One more fuckin’ word, sweetheart. I dare ya. Always wanna act like a bitch with Daddy, huh? You're gonna get fuckin’ treated like one.” He hisses, grabbing you by your hair to tug your head back harshly. “Pretty mouth like yours should only be used for one thing, but mutts like you love to bite. Daddy's gonna have to make sure ya can't.” He snaps the collar in place first, and that's already enough to get you begging. All the 'no, daddy's and 'please, I'm sorry's in the world couldn't stop him now, not with how rapidly his cock is filling out. It's hot, almost gets him as worked up as when he squeezes that little throat with his hand. The bone gag comes next, and he even got you a pretty one, the pink leather straps matching the collar. He sees your jaw clench, and then you're tugging your face away disobediently. You're even a fucking brat being faced with your punishment.

☆ written all over your face - commission

ft. naoya zenin x puppy!reader

tw: hybrid mistreatment, cruel naoya, forced cosmetic procedures

He kneels behind you, spreading your folds with two fingers, humming in satisfaction as strings of slick spread and break at his actions. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t pick out a puppy for that exact reason - a few words of praise, and you were soaked. He slips a finger deep into your cunt, adding another one and scissoring them open before groaning at the tightness. You felt like a virgin, too. Perfect. He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wiping his spit off on your clothes before he pulls them back on. He gives your ass a few pats as he stands up, turning around to bang a few times on the door. ”Hey! I’ll take her.”

☆ give me love - commission

ft. naoya zenin x reader

tw: incest, verrryyy light dub-con

Growing up in the Zen'in clan taught you one important lesson - women would always be seen as inferior to men. It did not matter how hard you worked to prove yourself to the Elders in the clan. You were a woman, and that was crime enough.

More than anyone, Naoya had every right to resent you. Your mere existence was an inconvenience to him, but more than that, your birth dishonoured him. He already had to fight harder than your brothers to climb to the top and become the head of the clan, but sharing a womb with a woman was unforgivable. He was constantly ridiculed for having a female twin, and in turn, you were treated as a stain on the Zen'in name for bringing shame to a Zen'in heir.

☆ 'til death do us part - commission

ft. naoya zenin x reader

tw: forced breeding, abuse

Being the favoured whore of Naoya Zen'in is considered an honourable position to have. You would be blind to miss the envious gazes of the other servants within the clan walls as you make your way through the halls once more, towards his room. You're sure their jealousy would dissipate if they knew how he truly was. He did not mask his attitude, his distaste for women as a whole – for prey women, no less. The extent of it was not something even you had anticipated. You had theoretically climbed the ranks to an easier job. After all, you'd gotten your own chambers. Three square meals most days. It was no wonder the other women wished they were in your position.

☆ sly fox // dumb bunny - commission

ft. zenin clan x reader

tw: dubcon

“You've all failed to produce any useful heirs to secure your place as the next head of the clan. Ogi has given us women, Toji - a bastard. My own son has not even produced a child, and as for you, Jinichi… I do not even wish to speak on the matter. You have somehow disappointed me more than your brother.”

Naobito kicks your trembling form forward, your body bare as you catch yourself before making contact with the floor. The wood is rough against your soft skin, your eyes flickering across the many faces of the Zen'in men staring down at you.

“A bunny. Not ideal, of course. But fertile enough I'm sure one of you will be able to fuck a useful heir into her by the end of today.”

#masterlist #fushiguro toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto x you

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kckt88 · 4 months

Text

Goodbye to you.

Summary:

There is a debt to be paid, a son for a son.

Aemond and his wife struggle to cope in the aftermath of their son's death.

Warnings - Angst, Darma, Tragedy, Grief, Child Loss, Blame.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N (DAERON TWIN SISTER)

Word Count: 4505

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

The morning light streamed softly through the heavy drapes of the nursery, casting a gentle glow on the small, empty bed where Aerion had once slept. The room, once a sanctuary filled with laughter and joy, now felt cold and barren.

Y.N. stood in the doorway, her eyes scanning the space that held so many precious memories. She took a hesitant step inside, her heart aching with every beat.

Her gaze fell upon Aerion’s bed, meticulously made as if he might return at any moment. But something was missing. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what it was. Aerion’s favourite blanket, the one he never slept without, was nowhere to be seen.

Panic gripped her, squeezing her chest until it felt like she could hardly breathe.

“No-no, no, no-” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Where is it?”

Y.N. moved to the bed, her hands frantically pulling back the covers, searching every corner. The blanket, soft and worn from countless nights of comforting her little boy, was gone.

She tore through the small pile of toys beside the bed, scattering wooden dragons and knights across the floor. Her desperation grew with each passing second.

“It has to be here!” she cried, her voice growing louder, more frantic. “It’s the only thing I have left of him!”

She yanked open drawers, tossing out clothes and small keepsakes in a frenzy. Her hands shook as she rifled through Aerion’s things, her vision blurred by tears.

The room, once a place of warmth and security, now felt like a cruel mockery of what she had lost.

Her cries echoed off the stone walls, a heart-wrenching symphony of grief and despair. She fell to her knees, sobbing as she rummaged through the last drawer.

Each item she touched brought a fresh wave of sorrow, a reminder of the little boy she would never hold again.

“Aerion,” she whispered, clutching one of his tiny shirts to her chest. “Please-where is it?”

The door creaked open, and Aemond entered, his face drawn and pale. He had heard her cries and felt the same sharp pang of loss twist in his gut.

He rushed to her side, kneeling beside her, and wrapping his arms around her trembling form.

“Y.N., my love,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a desperate, heartbreaking plea. “His blanket, Aemond. It’s gone. It’s the only thing I have left of him, and it’s gone!”

Aemond’s heart broke anew at her words. He held her tighter, trying to offer what little comfort he could. “We’ll find it,” he promised, though he knew it was a small consolation. “We’ll search every inch of this castle if we have to.”

Y.N. buried her face in his shoulder, her sobs shaking her entire body. “I just want him back. I just want my baby back.”

Aemond’s eye stung with unshed tears as he held his wife, his own grief mingling with hers. “I know, my love. I know.”

Aemond held Y.N. tightly, his own heart breaking at her anguish. As he tried to think of where Aerion’s blanket could be, then a memory surfaced—the maids helping to clean the room after the tragic night, whilst he had insisted on removing his son’s blood-stained bedding himself.

"The maids," Aemond said suddenly, his voice urgent. "They must have picked it up after I handed them the bedding. They might have it."

Y.N. pulled back, her eyes wide with a mixture of hope and desperation.

Without another word, she bolted from the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls as she chased after the maids.

Aemond followed closely, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and urgency.

She raced through the corridors, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Where are they?" she muttered to herself, her eyes scanning every corner.

She finally spotted a group of maids at the end of the hall, their aprons stained with the day’s work.

"Wait!" Y.N. shouted, her voice cracking.

The maids turned, startled by her frantic approach. One of them, a young girl with wide eyes, stepped forward. "Princess, what’s the matter?"

"The blanket," Y.N. panted, her eyes wild. "Aerion’s blanket. Did you take it?"

The maids exchanged worried glances. "We did, Princess," the young maid said hesitantly. "It was with the bedding that the Prince gave us, it was covered in-in blood”.

"Where is it?" Y.N. demanded, her voice rising. "Where is it now?"

The maid pointed to a nearby room, where a large bucket of soapy water sat. "There, my lady. We are soaking it to remove the stains."

Y.N. felt her heart plummet. She rushed into the room, her eyes locking onto the bucket.

The blanket, now soaking wet and submerged in the water, was unrecognizable.

She let out a scream, a sound of pure anguish and horror, as she snatched it from the water, clutching the sodden fabric to her chest.

"No, no, no!" she cried hysterically, pressing the wet blanket to her face. "His scent-it’s gone. It was the only thing I had left of him."

Aemond reached her side, his own grief etched deeply on his face. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. "Y.N., I’m so sorry."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clung to the blanket. "My boy, I can’t smell him-he’s gone" she whispered, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry-“

"You," Y.N hissed, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and grief. "You're the one who gave the maids Aerion's blanket."

Aemond’s heart sank, a fresh wave of guilt crashing over him. "Y.N., It was an accident—"

"Do you realize what you've done?" she screamed, cutting him off. Her voice was raw, filled with a pain that echoed in the walls of the room. "How could you be so stupid? How could you give them the only thing I had left of our son?"

He took a step forward, his hands trembling. "I thought—"

"You thought?" she spat, her face contorting with fury. "Did you even think at all? That blanket was all I had, Aemond. The last piece of him. And now it’s gone, ruined, because of you!"

Tears welled up in Aemond's eye, but he forced himself to meet her gaze. "I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never meant-"

"-Sorry?" Y.N. interrupted, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "Sorry won't bring Aerion back! Sorry won't bring back his scent, his memory, the one small comfort I had left. You took that from me!"

“Please-” muttered Aemond.

Y.N.'s sobs turned to gasps as a sudden, fierce anger ignited within her.

She pulled away from Aemond, her grief transforming into a boiling rage.

Clutching the soaked blanket, she turned on him, her eyes blazing.

"This is your fault!" she screamed, hitting him with the wet blanket over and over. "You did this!"

Aemond staggered back, raising his arms to protect himself from her blows. "Y.N"

"They killed our son because of you!" she cried, her voice raw with fury and pain. "How could you let this happen?"

Each word was a dagger to Aemond's heart. He stood there, accepting her blows, knowing that her pain and anger were justified.

He had killed Lucerys in a moment of rage, and now their own son had paid the price.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

Y.N. continued to strike him, the blanket slapping against his chest and arms, her strength fuelled by the depths of her sorrow.

"Sorry? Sorry won't bring Aerion back! Sorry won't erase what you've done!"

Aemond's eye filled with tears, his own grief and guilt overwhelming him. "I know," he said, his voice trembling. "I know, Y.N. I would give anything to undo it, to bring him back."

But his words only seemed to fuel her anger further. "You should have thought of that before you acted so recklessly!" she shouted; her voice hoarse. "You should have thought of our family!"

Her blows began to weaken, the weight of her grief finally overtaking her. She collapsed to the floor, her hands still clutching the blanket. "He's gone," she sobbed as she pressed the blanket to her face. "Our little boy is gone, and it's all your fault."

“Y.N”

"Get out" she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "Get out, Aemond. Leave me alone."

Aemond recoiled, the words hitting him like a physical blow. "Y.N., please," he began, reaching out to her.

"NO!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the halls. "I can't even look at you. Every time I do, I see Aerion"

Aemond's face crumpled in pain, but he nodded slowly, understanding the depth of her anguish. "I understand," he said quietly, his voice barely audible. "I'll go."

He took a hesitant step backward, his eye never leaving hers, hoping for some sign that she might change her mind.

But Y.N.'s gaze was steely, her resolve unyielding. "LEAVE!" she shouted again, her voice breaking. "I can't bear to see you. I can't bear to be near you."

Aemond's shoulders slumped as he turned and walked away, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow.

He paused at the doorway, glancing back one last time. Y.N. had turned away from him, clutching Aerion’s blanket, her body wracked with silent sobs.

"Y.N.," Alicent whispered, her voice filled with concern.

Y.N. looked up, her tear-streaked face reflecting a lifetime's worth of pain.

The sight of her mother, broke the last of her fragile composure. "Mama," she sobbed, the word escaping her lips like a plea for solace.

Alicent rushed to her daughter's side, gathering her into her arms. "Shh, my darling, I'm here," she murmured, stroking Y.N.'s silver hair gently.

Y.N. collapsed into her mother’s embrace, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. "He's gone-" she cried, her voice muffled against Alicent's shoulder. "My boy is gone."

"I know, my sweet girl," Alicent said softly, her own eyes filling with tears. She held Y.N. tightly, rocking her gently as she continued to stroke her hair. "I know."

“It’s Aemond’s fault,” Y.N. cried, her voice muffled against Alicent’s shoulder. “What he did-our son is dead because of him.”

Alicent’s eyes filled with tears as she tightened her embrace, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. “I know”

Y.N. pulled back slightly, her face streaked with tears and contorted with pain. “How could he do this? How could he be so reckless, so blinded by his anger?”

Alicent cupped Y.N.’s face in her hands, her own tears falling freely. “Aemond made a terrible mistake, and he is suffering for it as well. But right now, we must find a way to get through this, together.”

Y.N. shook her head, fresh sobs wracking her body. “I don’t know if I can”.

"Y.N.," Alicent began softly, her voice filled with a mother's pleading. "Please, do not shut Aemond out. He made a terrible mistake, and he is suffering too. He needs you now more than ever."

Y.N. shook her head, her expression hardening. "I can’t”

Alicent's eyes filled with tears as she squeezed Y.N.'s hands more tightly. "I understand, my sweet girl. I do. But Aemond is consumed with guilt and sorrow. He knows what he has done, and it is tearing him apart. He never intended for any of this to happen."

"Intentions don’t matter now," Y.N. replied bitterly, pulling her hands away. "Our son is dead. Aemond’s regret won't bring him back."

Alicent’s heart ached for both her children, torn apart by this tragedy. "Y.N., please. I’m not asking you to forgive him now, or even soon. But don’t shut him out completely. Let him share in your grief. Let him try to make amends."

Y.N.'s eyes flashed with anger and pain. "Make amends? How can he ever make amends for this? He killed Lucerys out of rage, and now our son is gone because of it. How am I supposed to move past that?"

Alicent's tears spilled over, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I know, my darling. I know it seems impossible. But shutting him out, living in this isolation of grief and anger, it will only deepen your pain. Let him in, if only a little. Let him show you that he is suffering too, that he is willing to do anything to make things right, even if it’s impossible."

Y.N. shook her head again, her expression resolute. "I don’t know if I can”

Alicent's shoulders slumped in defeat, her heart breaking for her daughter. "Alright," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I won't force you. But please, just consider it. Don’t let this grief destroy everything. Don’t let it destroy you."

Aemond stumbled down the corridor, each step feeling like an eternity. His heart ached with the raw, searing pain of loss and guilt. He could still hear Y.N.'s sobs echoing in his mind, a haunting reminder of what he’d done.

He reached a quiet, shadowed alcove and leaned against the cold stone wall, his strength leaving him. Slowly, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor, burying his face in his hands.

The weight of his sorrow was unbearable, pressing down on him until he could barely breathe. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, the grief and guilt overwhelming him.

As he sat there, lost in his despair, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up, his vision blurred by tears, and saw his sister Helaena standing beside him.

Her eyes were filled with empathy and sadness, understanding his pain without needing words. She quietly sat down next to him, her presence a silent offering of comfort.

"Aemond," Helaena said softly, breaking the silence. "Y.N. is lashing out because of her grief. She’s in pain, and she doesn’t know how to cope with it”.

Aemond turned his head slightly, looking at his sister through a tear-filled eye. "I know," he whispered, his voice raw with sorrow. "But it doesn’t make it any easier. She hates me, Hel-”.

Helaena reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "She needs you, Aemond. As much as she says she doesn’t, as much as she pushes you away, she needs to know that you’re there. You’re both suffering and shutting each other out will only make it worse."

Aemond closed his eye, a fresh wave of tears spilling down his cheeks. "I don’t know if I can," he admitted, his voice trembling. "She blames me for everything, and she’s right. It is my fault."

Helaena’s grip on his arm tightened, her voice firm but filled with compassion. "You made a mistake, a terrible mistake. But you’re still her husband, and she’s still your wife. Grief does strange things to people, Aemond. It twists and distorts their emotions. But underneath all of that pain, she still loves you. She’s hurting, and she needs you to be strong for her”.

Aemond’s shoulders shook with silent sobs, the enormity of his guilt and grief threatening to crush him. "I don’t know if I’m strong enough," he whispered. "I feel like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to save her when I can’t even save myself."

Helaena moved closer, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting embrace. "You’re stronger than you think, brother. And you don’t have to do this alone. We’re all here for you, for both of you. Take it one day at a time, one moment at a time. Be there for her in whatever way you can, even if it’s just by being present. She needs to see that you’re not going anywhere, that you’re committed to facing this together."

Aemond leaned into his sister’s embrace, drawing strength from her words and her presence. "I’ll try," he said, his voice a broken whisper. "I’ll try to be there for her, even if she doesn’t want me to be."

Helaena held him tighter, her own tears falling silently. "That’s all you can do, Aemond. Just try. And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together."

Alicent gently guided Y.N. through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, her arm wrapped protectively around her daughter's shoulders.

The weight of their shared grief pressed down on them, but Alicent's touch was steady, a small beacon of comfort in the overwhelming darkness.

When they reached the chambers, Alicent opened the door and led her inside. The room was quiet, the flickering candlelight casting soft, dancing shadows on the walls.

Alicent guided her daughter to a chair by the vanity and began to tenderly undress her, treating her with the same attention she had when Y.N. was a child.

"Let me help you" Alicent said softly, her voice soothing. She unfastened Y.N.'s dress with gentle hands, carefully removing it and laying it aside.

Y.N. stood motionless, her body weary and spirit broken, allowing her mother to take care of her.

Alicent fetched a soft, linen nightgown and slipped it over Y.N.'s head, smoothing the fabric over her shoulders. "There, now," she murmured, her fingers lightly brushing Y.N.'s hair.

She picked up a silver comb from the vanity and began to comb Y.N.'s hair with slow, deliberate strokes.

The rhythmic motion was calming, a small act of normalcy in a world turned upside down. "You’ve always had such beautiful hair," Alicent whispered, more to herself than to Y.N.

Y.N. remained silent, her eyes distant and unfocused, but the gentle care of her mother brought a faint sense of peace. Alicent continued to comb, her touch tender and loving, until Y.N.'s hair was smooth and free of tangles.

"Let’s get you into bed," Alicent said, setting the comb aside. She guided Y.N. to the bed and pulled back the covers, helping her daughter to lie down. The sheets were cool and soft, offering a small measure of comfort.

Alicent tucked the blankets around Y.N., smoothing them with care. "Rest now" she whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to Y.N.'s forehead. "I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep."

Y.N. closed her eyes, the exhaustion of grief finally overwhelming her. Alicent sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting gently on Y.N.'s, her presence a steady anchor in the turbulent sea of sorrow.

As Y.N. drifted off to sleep, Alicent watched over her, her own heart heavy with sadness. She knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, but she would be there for her children every step of the way, offering whatever comfort and support she could.

Aemond stood outside his chambers, the cold stone wall pressing against his back. He took a deep, steadying breath, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and determination.

He reached for the door handle, his hand trembling slightly. Gathering his resolve, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting a warm light over the furniture and walls.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the low light, and he saw his mother, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her face was etched with sorrow, but her presence was a source of comfort in the midst of his turmoil.

Y.N. lay asleep in the bed, her face peaceful but marked by the traces of countless tears. The sight of her, so fragile and vulnerable, filled Aemond with a fresh wave of guilt and sorrow. He closed the door softly behind him, not wanting to disturb her rest.

Alicent looked up as he entered, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and sadness. She rose from the bed and walked over to him, her steps silent on the thick carpet.

"Aemond," she whispered, reaching out to take his hand. "How are you?"

Aemond swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "I'm trying, Mother," he replied quietly. "Helaena told me I need to be here for her, even if she doesn't want me to be."

Alicent squeezed his hand gently. "Helaena is right. Y.N. needs you, even if she can't see it right now. Grief can make people push away those they love the most. But you must stay strong for her, and for yourself."

He nodded, his gaze shifting back to Y.N.'s sleeping form. "I don’t know how to help her, Mother. I try to reach out, she pushes me away. I don’t blame her. It’s my fault that Aerion is gone."

Alicent's eyes filled with tears as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "We all share this pain, Aemond. You made a mistake, but you mustn't let it destroy you. Be patient with her, and with yourself. Healing will take time."

Aemond returned the embrace, drawing strength from his mother's unwavering support. "I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right, to be there for her," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination.

Alicent nodded and pulled back, her hands resting on his shoulders. "I know you will, my son. Just take it one step at a time”.

Aemond took a deep breath and walked over to the bed. He knelt down beside it, his gaze fixed on Y.N.'s sleeping face.

He reached out tentatively, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. The simple act of being close to her, of offering his silent support, gave him a small measure of comfort.

Alicent watched from the doorway, her heart aching for both her children. She knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, but seeing Aemond's resolve gave her hope. Quietly, she slipped out of the room, leaving them alone.

Y.N. stirred from her fitful sleep, her eyes fluttering open to the dimly lit room. At first, everything seemed hazy and distant, the events of the past days blending together in a fog of grief.

But then, as her senses slowly came into focus, she saw him kneeling by the bedside, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight.

Aemond.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. In the depths of his gaze, she saw the pain and sorrow etched into his features, a reflection of her own anguish.

She wanted to turn away, to shut him out. But he was still her husband, he was still her Aemond, he was still the man she loved, despite what he had done.

Wordlessly, they stared at each other, the weight of their shared grief hanging heavy in the air. And then, without warning, a sob escaped Y.N.'s lips, tearing through the silence like a knife.

"Aemond," she cried out, her voice raw with emotion as she reached forward and grasped his tunic. "Please Valzȳrys-please hold me” (Husband).

Aemond nodded and slowly eased himself onto the bed beside her.

Y.N. moved to make room for him, her grip on his tunic never loosening. Aemond lay down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Their bodies fit together, each finding a small measure of comfort in the other’s presence.

"Aemond," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I-I'm so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to-"

Aemond placed a finger gently over her lips, stopping her. His expression was a mix of sorrow and determination. "No," he said quietly, his voice rough from crying. "You were right. Aerion is dead, and it’s my fault."

She shook her head, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. "I was angry. I lashed out. I shouldn't have blamed you like that."

Aemond's hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear. "You had every right to blame me," he said, his voice breaking.

Y.N. clung to him, her tears falling freely.

"They should have killed me instead," said Aemond, his words laden with pain. "It should have been me. Our son is gone because of my actions."

Y.N. shook her head "No, Aemond," she said, her voice firm despite the tears streaming down her face. "They killed Aerion because they knew it would hurt us more. They wanted to inflict the deepest pain possible. They killed an innocent child out of pure spite and cruelty."

Aemond's eye closed, fresh tears spilling over his cheeks. "I can’t bear it, Y.N. The thought that my actions led to this-that our innocent son paid the price for my mistake. It’s more than I can stand."

Y.N. cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Listen to me, Aemond," she said, her voice trembling but resolute. "Aerion's death is on those who committed this heinous act. They are the ones who chose to kill a defenceless child. Your mistake was terrible, but the cruelty of his murder lies with them, not you."

“Y.N-“

“Maybe if Lucerys had been punished when he took your eye then none of this would’ve happened, maybe if our father wasn’t so wilfully blind towards our half sister birthing her bastards then none of this would’ve happened-but the seeds of discord were sown long before either of us existed”

“He was innocent-“ whispered Aemond.

“The innocent are always the ones to suffer in the game of thrones” replied Y.N

Aemond held Y.N. tightly with one arm, he reached behind him with the other, feeling around until his hand closed around a soft, familiar object.

He lifted it up and handed it to Y.N., his heart aching with a bittersweet pang.

“Here,” he said quietly, holding out one of Aerion's favourite teddy bears, a stuffed dragon with worn fabric from being held so often.

Y.N. gasped, her eyes widening as she saw the beloved toy. “Where did you find it?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of surprise and emotion.

“It had fallen under our bed,” Aemond replied softly.

Tears welled up in Y.N.’s eyes as she took the stuffed dragon from his hands. She pressed it to her face, inhaling deeply. And there it was—the sweet, familiar scent of their little boy.

She clutched the teddy bear tightly to her chest, her sobs returning with a renewed intensity. “Oh, Aemond,” she cried, her voice breaking. “It smells like him. Our Aerion.”

Aemond’s own eye filled with tears as he watched her, the sight of her finding solace in their son’s beloved toy bringing a mixture of pain and comfort.

He reached out, gently stroking her hair as she held the teddy bear close.

“He’s still with us in these small ways,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And we will carry his memory with us, in everything we do.”

Y.N. nodded, her tears soaking into the soft fabric of the stuffed dragon. “I miss him so much,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Aemond leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We will keep his memory alive, Y.N.,” he promised. “We will honour him and see that justice is served, with fire and blood”.

The End.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

“You’re nervous.”

“Hnnngh,” Keith says, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He looks straight ahead, left leg bouncing, hair pulled back into a ponytail but flyaways everywhere. He keeps having to push up his glasses when they slide down his nose, nudged forward by all the tension in his eyebrows. “Being stressed before a stressful situation is not being nervous, Lance, it’s just my brain responding like a brain.”

Lance hides a smile. “You’ve met my family before, baby.”

Keith slows to a stop as they approach their turn, looking at Lance instead of the road for the first time in twenty minutes. His indigo eyes are wide and pleading. Lance is distracted by the tiny mole beside his nose.

“I’ve met your mom,” he says emphatically, breaking eye contact with Lance to crane his head to the left, checking over the hill for any cars. He’s far more careful than he needs to be — there’s never anyone on this road. But Keith is always endlessly careful when he’s driving other people around. “I’ve met your siblings. I’ve met your abuela. I’ve met the twins.”

“Mighty number of people,” Lance agrees. He looks at his boyfriend pointedly. “All of whom love you.”

“Because they love you,” Keith stresses. “You’re, like, their favourite person. You hyped me up so of course they have a nicer view of me. But this is like — your great grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and, I dunno, second sister in law five times removed —

“Not how that works,” Lance interjects, amused.

“—and now I gotta impress them all? At once? I still don’t know how I did that with everyone else! I panicked! I forgot all my lines and conversation starters! I just — was awkward, and they were cool with it because your family is cool!”

“Ah, yes, you were yourself and people liked you,” Lance says, nodding sagely. “How bizarre.”

Keith looks at him imploringly. He has a — really cute nose, holy shit. It’s crooked from the three separate times it’s been broken and Lance is kind of obsessed with it. All he can think about is pressing a kiss to the bridge of it and watching how Keith will crinkle it on reflex. He has to fight back a giggle.

“I am going to get eaten,” Keith says miserably. “My luck is going to wear out. I’m gonna say something stupid and offend your third cousin or trip over someone’s toddler and destroy your mother’s flan by crashing into the table and upending hot coffee on an elderly person. Then I’ll get arrested for assault and you’ll have to visit me in prison and my cellmate will make a comment about you or something and I’ll have to kill him and then I’ll get retried and the death sentence, probably, and then Red will bust me out of prison and cause intergalactic meltdowns and —”

Lance can’t hold back anymore. Quick as a dart he reaches out, fisting Keith’s collar, and yanks him over the gearshift, kissing him softly and soundly until Keith sighs, surprise fading into something calmer, relaxed. His hand comes up to cup Lance’s cheek.

“You need a Xanax,” Lance says gently as he pulls away.

Keith huffs, the manic look in his eyes replaced with something much softer. Relieved, even. “Yeah, probably.” He tears his eyes away from Lance, rechecking his turn and finally actually putting on his blinker and moving onto the right road. His free hand reaches over the gearshift and Lance grabs it, tangling their fingers together and resting them in his lap. “I just — I want your family to like me.”

Lance smiles, a wide one that brings a flush to his cheeks and makes him shy, even though he’s not self-conscious; a smile that makes something flutter so intensely in his stomach that it feels so intensely private.

“They’ll like you,” Lance says simply.

Keith exhales. His hand tightens. Lance squeezes back.

The rest of the drive is easy.

———

By the time they make it to Lance’s great-grandmother’s farm, he can tell that some tension has crawled back into Keith’s shoulders. But he’s always been brave, when fighting dictators or meeting parents, and doesn’t hesitate to pull into the gravel driveway and park the car. He squeezes Lance’s hand again before letting go, stepping out of the car and heading to get their stuff.

“Tío! Tío!” scream two voices, and Lance doesn’t even have half a second to brace himself before Nadia is launching herself at his stomach. He manages somehow to spin them both around to offset the momentum, keeping them both upright. Keith is not quite so lucky — Lance hears a slam, a startled oof, and then he sees their bags go flying out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ,” Keith wheezes, flat on the ground with Sylvio crowded on top of him.

“I got you!” the boy crows, scrambling off Keith’s body in order to adequately dance around in victory. “You went splat!” He whirls around to face Lance, still dancing around. “Tío Lance! Did you see?”

Lance adjusts Nadia on his hip, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “I did. You got him good, buddy.”

Beaming, Sylvio turns back to Keith, who’s finally managed to get enough breath back in his lungs to stand.

“You got me good,” he wheezes in approval.

“Just like you showed me!”

There’s no mistaking the smugness in Sylvio’s voice, the challenge, the I’m-little-you’re-big-and-you’re-a-loser.

Keith recognises the challenge easily, eyes glinting, and before Sylvio can run away Keith scoops him up, tossing him over his shoulder and whirling them around ‘til he’s dizzy.

“Just like I showed you, champ. Think you can get out of this one, though? It’s easy!”

Sylvio shrieks, pounding on Keith’s back with fists weak from laughter. Nadia squirms in Lance’s hold, so Lance sets her down, and in seconds she’s run and attacked Keith’s other side, climbing up his legs to try and free her brother. Keith scoops her up, too, throwing her over his other shoulder as she laughs just as shrilly.

“Clearly neither of you learned very much!” he shouts, grin so wide it practically splits his face. His already precariously dangling glasses slide right off his face but Keith doesn’t even spare them a glance, stepping over them easily and shaking the twins as he goes. “You’re trapped!”

It doesn’t take the bright twins very long to unite forces, attacking Keith with renewed vigour all at once. Lance bends down as they wrestle, scooping up Keith’s glasses and their discarded bags.

“He’s good with them,” Lisa says, sidling up beside him and sliding her hand around his waist. Lance mirrors her, squeezing.

“He thinks they’re hilarious. He loves them to pieces.”

“Believe me, they love him too. I heard about Uncle Keith so much on the drive down that I was tired of him before you two even got here.”

Lance snorts. “Yeah, right, dweeb. No one else here reads Jane Austen. You need your nerd buddy.”

“Indeed,” she says, grinning. She pats him on the hip, pulling away and taking one of the bags slung over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff dropped off. Marcela will want to fuss over you, I’m sure. She hasn’t seen you since your last mission.”

Lance looks back at his boyfriend before following her, making sure he doesn’t need Lance’s help. The twins have wrestled him into doing their bidding, it looks like, or more likely he didn’t even put up a fight, and sit on one shoulder each, guiding him around the property with shouts and points and frenzied gesturing. Keith has his hand locked firmly over each set of knees, careful not to let them fall, as he wobbles around to make them gasp and laugh.

Lance smiles. He’s fine.

———

Keith finds him within the hour, Nadia and Sylvio off to play with their cousins.

“You abandoned me,” he pouts, hand wrapped around his elbow.

Lance notices, idly, that he’s slouching again; that his ponytail has been abandoned entirely and his hair curtains his face.

Hm.

“You were busy being a doofus,” Lance teases, brushing his hair out of his face. He nobly resists the urge to quote Regina George. “One of us has to be the mature one. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression about the saviours of the universe.

“You’re hiding out on a random couch on your phone,” Keith deadpans. He glances down at the screen. “You’re watching a seven year old vine compilation. On mute.”

“Like an adult,” Lance says primly. “Watch with me.”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, but slides on the couch behind Lance, arms wrapped around his waist and chin hooked over his shoulder. Lance digs in his pockets until he finds Keith’s glasses, twisting around to slide them on his handsome face. His hands linger on Keith’s temples. Keith’s smile is small and crooked and bares the tiniest peek of crooked incisors, and Lance’s heart flutters.

He leans back into Keith’s chest as he plays the video, watching a compilation of dorky videos he’s seen a thousand times. He feels Keith’s grin press into the juncture of his neck as he starts to mumble along. His hand rests just under Lance’s shirt, flat on his stomach. Lance fights the urge to squirm.

You Are In Your Abuela’s House, he reminds himself firmly. Your Ancestors Are Watching You. And Jesus, Probably.

Luckily, someone calls out their names before Lance really needs to find a vat of ice water to dunk himself in.

“Leandro! Keith! Come eat before your hog of a brother takes it all!”

The two of them don’t even need to pause for a moment before throwing themselves off the couch, scrambling towards the kitchen at top speeds because Marco absolutely will eat their portion of the food. Not even because he’s hungry for it, just because he’s a butthead who thinks it’s funny.

“This is your fault,” Keith informs him, careening around a questionably placed side table.

“Nothing is ever my fault ever in the entire universe,” Lance shoots back.

(Is it Lance’s fault? Possibly. But in his defense, the several years he spent as a child waiting for Marco to be distracted before eating his favourite thing on the plate still make him crack up when he thinks about it. Marco just got so mad, every time. Plus his eyes bulge a little when he loses it. How was Lance ever supposed to avoid poking that bear?)

Luckily, they make it in time to wrestle a plate away from Marco’s snickering ass.

“Keith, Lance,” Lance’s mother greets warmly before Lance can crack a plate over his brother’s head. “I’m glad you made it!”

“Mother,” Lance squawks dramatically, hand flying to his chest, “I am the second to be greeted? You’re son? You’re youngest angel? The one who went missing for several years and returned to you, prodigal?”

She reaches over and flicks Lance in the forehead. Keith snorts. Marco cackles.

“Keith called me on the flight home,” she explains, ruthless. “So he is the son, and you are the son-in-law.”

Keith flushes as he always does when Mamá pairs them like that, when they’re both her sons, when she implies what it implies. Lance lets the warmth of that expression soak into his bones, deep in through his back, from every point Keith is touching him.

“I was sleeping off being maimed!” Lance despairs.

It does him no favours. Mamá waves her hands wildly, setting down her own plate in favour of placing her hands over her ears. “Gah! Sh! Do not tell me of these things! I am meant to pretend your job is nothing more than ornamental! Do not ruin that for me!”

“It was the slightest ever maiming,” Lance mutters, sullen.

Keith visibly bites back a retort to that, no doubt out of respect for Mamá.

(Lance knows that Keith would have been the world’s biggest mama’s boy had he grown up with Krolia. He has shared this hypothesis with Shiro, who had laughed so hard upon hearing it that he had sprained a muscle in his neck, and then explained later with a heat pack and a wryly smiling Adam that Keith used to scold Shiro for pushing himself with exact quotes from Shiro’s mother herself.)

“Nobody ever wants to hear my side of the story,” Lance laments.

Keith bends down to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’s because you are a liar,” he says kindly.

Lance catches his chin before he can pull away, kissing him to shut him up.

They head outside to join everyone else, plates stacked high with food and plastic cups balanced precariously with spare fingers. Keith starts to slouch again as they walk out the sliding screen door, but he keeps his hair out of his face, eyes flitting between different people. It helps that hardly anyone spares him half a glance, too used to random new people in such a big family.

“Hey, Patito! Over here!”

Lance whips his head up at the familiar voice, breaking into a wide smile when he sees his sister’s wilding waving hand. Keith, too, seems relieved when he catches sight of Veronica, rushing over almost faster than Lance is.

“Hey, losers,” she greets, flicking water from her cup at them as they sit across from her. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“Lance is a distraction and danger to the road,” Keith says immediately, because he is a snitch. He is also unfortunately very quick and manages to duck away from Lance’s pinch.

Veronica snorts. “Believe me, I know. Every ride back to the Garrison on weekends was a near death experience because he kept smacking me every ten seconds. A menace.”

“You manipulator!” Lance accuses. “I slapped you because you teased me! Constantly!”

Keith and Veronica share sharp, matching grins. Lance takes a nanosecond to ponder what he ever did to deserve the sufferings of their friendship.

“That’s because you’re so goddamn easy to rile up, sweetheart,” Keith says with a wink.

Lance attempts to shove him off his chair. Unfortunately, while he does flail backwards, he manages to stay upright.

“You two were supposed to hate each other,” he mutters into his congrí. “This friendship thing is bullshit.”

Neither believe him for a second.

They’re barely into their meal when the nosiness starts. In fact, Lance is honestly surprised it has lasted this long. Luis probably said something to convince everyone to tone it down, because he is a saint and also Lance’s favourite.

“So,” says his Aunt Vena, “…Keith.”

Keith freezes, cheeks bulging. Lance tries very hard not to laugh at him.

“Hi,” he says, swallowing. He says nothing else and looks agonized about it. His memorized conversation starters have no doubt fled his brain.

“You know, I feel like I already know you,” jokes Aunt Vena, never bothered by awkwardness. Or boundaries. “I only see Leandro a few times a year were the only thing he talked about for ages.”

Lance goes pale. Oh, please God, no. Please let Aunt Vena be suddenly gifted with the ability to read Lance’s mind, or at least notice him waving his hands frantically behind Keith’s head, making cutting motions at his throat.

“Keith this, Keith that. Keith Keith Keith.”

Lance cradles his face in his hands. So much for miracles.

“He did?” Keith asks.

“Stop investigating immediately or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” Lance threatens under his breath. Keith’s hand finds it’s way to his thigh and rests there, as if laughing at him.

“Oh, yes,” laughs Aunt Vena. “Every other word was about how you sat in class or walked in the hall or flew your planes. He was always angry about it, but he was quite focused on you. Oh, and your hair.”

Aunt Vena turns away to chatter with someone else like she didn’t just ruin Lance’s life. Lance would hate her if he didn’t find her so goddamn loveable, but he does, so instead he looks up and suffers Keith’s wide, shit-eating grin, and ponders deep in his heart how he will re-humble his boyfriend so they’re back on even ground.

“…You were big on the hair, huh.”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll chop it off as you sleep.”

———

“Keith.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You dorkbrain.”

“I’m just saying!”

Keith’s hair is in a knot at the crown of his head, glasses pushed all the way to his face. He’s got Lance’s hand in his but he’s not paying attention to him in the slightest — he cycles between leaning back, then forwards, then craning his neck and shifting his eyes. Every few seconds he lets out a muted gasp.

A group of children run yelling in and out of the house, heedless of doors and stairs.

“You are such a mother hen,” Lance says with great amusement.

Keith is too distracted to even roll his eyes. “Some of them are very little,” he says worriedly. “Maybe they should play a game outside. There’s more space.” He looks around at the various adults sitting and chatting, aghast. “Should me maybe get a — pool noodle, or something? Just for the corners. So there are no head injuries. That’s the most common way they happen, you know. Tripping during play.”

Lance hums, leaning into his side. “Reading a lot of parenting books, are you.”

Keith is very deliberately silent. Lance flicks up his gaze to watch his face redden.

“…Akira.”

“It’s Shiro’s!” he says defensively. “It was — he had it on the shelf! I read it when I was younger! It was traumatizing! Do you know how easy it is to fuck up a kid? Very easy, Lance! Their heads are very squishy! They don’t know balance yet! They repeat everything you say!”

“Was this book,” Lance starts, choking back laughter with everything he has, “perhaps about raising toddlers?”

Keith’s jaw snaps shut.

“Children under two? Hm?”

Keith glances away. “It didn’t mention.”

Lance loses his battle, burying his cackling in Keith’s shoulder.

“How was I supposed to know that ‘A Guide To Raising Healthy Children For New Parents’ was about — babies? Shiro was the dumbass who had it!”

Lance laughs harder. “Did he — did he buy it when he —”

Keith puts his head in his hands. “He bought, like, forty books when he first started fostering me, they were all basically the same, he’s such a dumbass —”

“Stop, stop,” Lance begs, grasping his aching stomach. The image of Shiro, twenty years old, panicking after impulsively deciding to apply to foster the delinquent who stole his car, frantically googling advice for new parents only to unknowingly receive information about toddlers is the best mental image he’s had in a while. He’ll have to share with Pidge and the rest of the Holts the second they get home.

“You’re such a butthead,” Keith grumbles, but it’s half-hearted. His attention is still mostly on the way Mateo, Lance’s four year old second cousin, very nearly brains himself on the corner of the brick entryway trying to swerve away from his older sister. Keith’s sharp inhale would have been comical if Lance didn’t feel his own heart drop.

“Okay,” Lance concedes, “maybe it’s time for a new game.” He pats his boyfriend on the knee. “You’re up, champ.”

“Wait, me?” Keith asks, bewildered. “You’re their cousin.”

Lance shrugs. “You’re the worried one. Plus, I want to go get wine drunk with Rachel. Mamá said she just got here. She’s been avoiding my calls all week which means she has Information to share and doesn’t trust herself not to tell me immediately. I have to know what’s up.”

Keith still doesn’t look convinced. “But I’m a stranger to them, basically.”

“So start with Nadia and Sylvio, dummy. Once the rest of the kids see a cool newer and accidentally safer game to play, they’ll join fast. Plus, the stranger aspect is intriguing, probably. You’re like a new toy.”

To solidify his point, Lance calls his niblings over, gesturing to Keith. The twins light up, immediately abandoning whatever they’re doing — trying to shove a sleeping Luis’ finger up his own nose — to sprint over to them.

“Tío Keith has a game for you two,” Lance whispers conspirationally.

The twins burst into howling cheers.

“Game! Game! Game! Game!” they chant, each grabbing one of Keith’s hands and tugging him away.

Keith looks back at him, panicked. Lance blows him a kiss, then turns back into the house to go hunt for his sister.

She finds him first.

“LANCE,” she shouts, whipping around to face him. Lance immediately shifts backwards slightly, knees bent, legs widened, arms held out protectively in front of him. He smirks. She matches it.

She charges.

She aerials into a heel kick, as always, aiming for his skull. Lance back handsprings out of her reach, careful of the various relatives around him, who are well used to their brand of bullshit and don’t even pause their conversations as they lean away.

He comes back up just in time to throw up a block to her fists, aiming a kick to her stomach that she can’t fully dodge. She gets him right back, though, like she always does, aiming a sweeping kick for his ankles that he has to flip on his hands to avoid.

“It’s good to see you, fucker,” she pants, roundhouse kicking the dip of his waist.

“Likewise, asshole,” he grunts, grabbing her ankle and flipping her to the ground. She drags him down with her.

They’re both grinning.

“Tomorrow morning we box for real,” she proposes as they lay there, getting their breath back.

“Deal,” he agrees.

By the time they finally get back on their feet, they’re both parched, and since they also make frequent poor decisions, they head straight for the bad boxed wine. Lance pours them both heaping glasses and Rachel guides them to an open lawn chair, which they both sprawl on, a hundred percent in each other’s space.

“So,” Rachel says, chugging half her glass, “my grades are in. I’m graduating top of my class.”

Lance gasps. “Rachel!”

“And,” she continues, building up suspense with a grin, “I got word back from all my residency applications.”

Lance thinks he might explode. He remembers them when they were little, huddled on the floor of their bedroom at one in the morning, glow sticks guiding their planners, mapping out heir lives together. Where they would go to school, when they would bother with dating, how they would do it all together. Lance, best pilot to come out of the Garrison next to Shirogane. Rachel, the first surgeon to successfully transplant a brain.

“I got in,” she says, beam so wide it forces her eyes shut. “Lance, I got in!”

“Rach!” he screams, eyes blurry from tears and heart full to bursting. “Rach!”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and squeezes, weeping with joy and elation and buzzing from his head to his toes. This is what Rachel has wanted since she was old enough to talk. This is his sister, his first and best friend, getting everything she has ever wanted, as she has always deserved.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!”

She squeezes him right back, her own tears wetting his t-shirt. Her relief is palpable, and Lance knows it, the indescribable feeling of finally crossing that goddamn mountain, finally getting what you’ve been working for for longer than you can remember.

“Everything is falling into place,” she says softly, pulling back and holding up her cup. Lance laughs and clinks them together.

They settle back into their shared chair, too happy for words, gathering themselves. Lance catches his mother’s eye and returns her soft smile, wine making him warm and happiness making him bright. He feels like he’s swimming in sun-warmed water.

He settles back with a sigh.

Rachel nudges him. “Hey, Loverboy. Look.”

Lance follows her pointing finger. Away from the tables and lawn chairs, in a wide, open space, there’s Keith — surrounded by every single child on the property, ordered in neat rows. Each of them has a hefty stick, held carefully in their hands, watching Keith with great intensity. Keith himself has his bayard out, stretched out in a battle position, back straight and shoulders loose. He has the same bright look on his face that he has during Lion training, or riskier missions. Excitement, steadiness, and a hint of cockiness that has Lance shivering. He demonstrates a move, and with a single minded focus, the children repeat it.

It has always been impossible not to want to be a part of everything Keith does, Lance has found.

“…You kind of scored,” Rachel observes.

Lance’s laughter is breathy, high-pitched. “Believe me, I know.”

There’s a rousing shout from the kids, then a cheer, then Keith shouts, “Ready?” and at their raucous response, chaos breaks out. Sticks are strikes and parried and children throw themselves dramatically on the floor in pantomimed deaths, scrambling to their feet seconds later to get back into the fray. Every few seconds Keith calls out rules and reminders, weaving through the children to point out places for improvement or congratulate someone for doing something right.

“I have never seen them all gathered this long without any crying or fighting,” Rachel says, something like awe in her voice. She pauses. “Well, real fighting.”

Lance smiles, something small and secret and over which he has no control. He catches his boyfriend’s eye and waves, which is returned at twice the enthusiasm.

“Keith’s good with kids,” he says quietly. To himself, he wonders if it’s possible to have a heart so full it bursts.

———

The blankets are scratchy but warm, and Keith smells as he always does, and Lance is half asleep. But the words come leisurely out anyway.

“You awake?“ he whispers, words tucked into the spot above Keith’s heart.

Keith hums. Lance feels the rumble of it in his cheek.

“Barely.”

His eyes are too heavy to keep open, so he lets them slip shut. He breathes deeply the smell of his boyfriend’s body wash, and traces meaningless patterns on his chest with his fingertips, breathing slowly, taking his time. He might fall asleep, but that’s okay. They have time.

“‘M glad you came, today.”

Keith’s breathing is slow and even, just like Lance’s, but he can feel the heavy weight of his gaze, those indigo eyes.

“I go where you go.”

Lance quirks his lips. The blankets rustle softly as Keith slowly slides up his hand, encircling his fingers around Lance’s wrist, palm resting on his forearm. After a minute Lance can feel his heartbeat, at the same time that he hears it, head pressed to Keith’s chest. “You’re good with the kids.”

Keith’s breath stutters. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I like them. And your family.”

“Told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” He’s silent for a minute, palm heavy on Lance’s skin. “I wanna — do this, Lance. Forever.”

Lance turns his head slightly, just enough to press his lips to Keith’s sternum. “I will love you until the end of time.”

He feels Keith’s smile, sweetening the air.

“I love you, too.”

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beenbaanbuun · 8 months

Text

emo!mingi

im writing something big rn but for the time being, i can’t get the fact that mingi is a certified! emo off of my mind… like ever….

it’s all i think about and as an emo/metal girlie myself, i can’t help but think about mingi fucking you to his personal horny emo/metal playlist.

bc i can guarantee he has one. like the man said one of his favourite songs was dance dance by fall out boy??? like i can just imagine him taking the lyrics to that song a little too personally, stripping you bare on his mattress, putting you on your front and kissing down your naked spine. pete wentz was sooo right when he wrote that song… mingi does want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with him…

and i’m sorry, if that man ever listens to death of peace of mind by bad omens??? oh that man would be DONE. FINISHED!! because how is he supposed to hear that song without you popping into his head. memories of him folding you in half as he fucks into you, mascara tears streaming down your face as you cry out for him. chanting his name over and over again like a mantra… it’s like that song was written about you.

and that man has eaten you out one too many times to K.M.B by nova twins… he gets so pussy drunk and just goes dumb between your legs while the music degrades him and calls him out for what he really is. there really isn’t much going on between his eyes once he gets even a hint of your pussy juices. literally turns into a pretty puppy that exists solely for your pleasure, and you’re okay with that…

and i just know that this man goes fucking i n s a n e when he hears the first note of a deftones song. imagine him listening to my own summer (shove it) and just ramming into you. he’d have you pinned down as he almost completely loses himself, thrusting hard and sensual, trying so desperately to hold on to his last thread of sanity. trying so hard not to snap completely and let himself go absolutely feral on you. he wants to, so bad actually, but for the sake of you being able to walk the next day, he holds back… barely.

but like, we also know this man is a giggly baby half the time. like he’s such a princess and i refuse to believe that every single time you have sex with him, he’s completely serious. like imagine he’s trying to be but then the playlist switches songs and it’s a fucking limp bizkit song or something. like it just switches the mood entirely because how is he supposed to fuck you when fred durst is singing rollin’ directly in his ear. like you’re not telling me this man won’t collapse on top of you in a fit of giggles, rigid dick still pressed inside of you as he tries to contain his laughter in your ear. and you just slap his shoulder or something because what the fuck is LIMP BIZKIT doing in his sex playlist?!?!?!?

i’m so sorry, but emo mingi DOES THINGS TO ME!!!!! like it’s all i can think about at any given point in time and i need people to understand that this is my roman empire!!!

#ateez x reader #ateez hard thoughts #ateez drabbles #ateez oneshot #ateez headcanons #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez smut

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gok1bvri72 · 9 months

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×+×+×+ Random Death the Kid splurbs +×+×+×

/Reader's Gender/: Irrelevant, not mentioned

/SFW ofc/

Honestly just me simping for this boy, I simply adore him! He's just so funny>< My cringe, 2000s - 2010s mindset just eats up all the very angsty content that is just a beautiful snapshot of the era! I wish I could have just have been old enough to have experienced it myself T^T

_______________________________________

MMMMM THIS BOY HAS NO DARN RIGHT BEING THIS /FINE/.

Okay but seriously how did you land him, I want clear cut directions and instructions.

All the girls (and even some boys👁👁) are INCREDIBLY jealous of you. Kid's the cutest boy in the school!

/And/ he is Lord Death's son! Literally just about every girl is seething at you when you walk past them, biting on their shirt/dress collars all angry like.

If I had to guess, it was probably you who asked him out.

He may be absolutely gorgeous, stunning, and have a silver tongue but that doesn't exactly mean he knows how to use any of it....

What I'm saying is is guy is /awkward/ with a capital A.

Sweetheart with good intentions once you get to his core and can find a way to look past his obsession with folding toilet paper, but still awkward regardless.

So whether you boldly walked up to him and declared your love with a bouquet of roses and dramatic lighting and music or you were stumbling over your words, on the verge of crying and soiling your pants, and just giving up and running away- you were still the one to ask him out first.

Depending on how you asked I can see him responding in a plethora of ways but my favourite is dead ass looking you in the eye and saying "Even though I'm asymmetrical garbage?" while a singular tear just dramatically trails down his cheek.

Realistically he probably just said yes at first cuz he had nothing better to do. Or if you were the ladder option of the before, probably felt bad.

But the more time you guys hung out the more he found himself beginning to actually /like/ like you.

Maybe you were helping him snap back into focus during his episodes- or maybe you were trying to make him happy by dressing as symmetrically as you could and folding your toilet paper. (Even if it wasn't perfect, it's the sentiment that counted for him this time.)

At first, it just felt weird when you weren't around and he would find himself thinking about you in those situations. But then he started finding himself actively seeking you out when you weren't there.

He would be having a perfectly normal Sunday and then he would find a picture that reminded him of you in a magazine or maybe saw a shirt in the clothes store's window that he thought you would look cute in.

Then he would begin to wonder what you were doing at that moment. He would find himself missing your presence. And when he noticed this, he immediately denied it.

He just agreed to hang out cuz he felt bad/was bored, right? /Right?/

But it kept happening, more and more. It began to happen when he was on missions, he would get distracted and slip up. Okay, this wasn't working out. He needed to do something about this.

He asked you to partner with him on missions.

Let's assume you're a weapon in this scenario. (If you're a meister you just go with him with your own weapon.)

His excuse was "Well if Liz or Patty is out of commission, I can't fight. And since you're a set of perfectly symmetrical twin blades you would make for an excellent back up."

So you started going on missions with him, a lot.

But one time, Patty got sick. So just you and Kid went on the mission while Liz stayed home to take care of her.

This started happening more and more. (Not the Patty getting sick part, although she did probably get sick off of eating crayons regularly a few times.)

At this point, you were essentially going on as many solo missions with him that he had gone on and goes on with Liz and Patty.

But what really made him realise that he does actually like.... /like/ like you was when the two of you resonated souls.

It was weird, being able to hear each other's unfiltered thoughts.

He learned about a lot of weird things that go on inside your head after that- but that's besides the point.

Point being, with how easily the two of you resonated souls without having ever practised before was kind of the last nudge he needed before he decided to stop running from and denying his genuine feelings for you.

He didn't really change much after that, after all you don't exactly become a new person immediately after he acknowledged his feelings, but he did seem a lot happier once he came to terms with it; lot less tense at least.

He seemed a lot less hesitant when asking you out for a spot of tea and was /a lot/ less hesitant when touching you. Of course he still isn't /huge/ on PDA outside of hand holding, but he doesn't feel the need to slather his hands in hand sanitizer after holding yours and doesn't ask you where you've been before hugging you.

That and he doesn't do the awkward side hug anymore, he iniates actual hugs now. Not often, like I said he isn't much into PDA and probably- no, /definitely/ doesn't like his clothes wrinkled but.... maybe he doesn't mind so much when it's you.

After all, he /does/ love you.

And you fold the toilet paper for him.

#death the kid x reader #death the kid #soul eater #soul eater x reader #adelita writes

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starogeorgina · 1 year

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Twin flames

Warning: Age gap relationship, smut, swearing

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen × Reader

1.04

“Bastards or not, Rhaenyra’s sons are still just children; you can’t possibly think they deserve such slander!”

Aemond gives you a death glare. The queen, in all her wisdom, had tricked you into spending time with Aemond by inviting you to join her for supper in her chambers; she even had your favourite cake specifically made for the occasion. Under the impression that Helaena would be joining you as well, you said yes. But it was a fib; Helaena was nowhere to be found, and you were now left feeling awkward sitting across from your mother and brother. As expected, your mother shared her disdain for your uncle's plans of staying in King's Landing being made public, but the conversation quickly turned to her talking poorly of Rhaenyra, and Aemond jumped at the chance to slander Prince Lucerys.

“Enough!” Your mother looks between you and Aemond, shaking her head. “This pointless arguing ends here. It’s time you started to behave like husband and wife.”

Knowing where this conversation would lead next, you wanted nothing more than to tell your mother to shove the idea of your producing heirs with Aemond, but you bite your tongue instead. There was once a time you would have done your duty and relished having a baby of your own, but now the thought of laying with Aemond physically makes your skin crawl. Dark circles hung under your mother's eyes, and the skin around her fingernails was red and raw. She has been stressed again, which was the only reason you chose a different approach than arguing.

You sigh, “I’m not having this conversation again.”

You stand to leave, but she grips the sleeve of your pale blue dress, giving you a pleading look, and says, “I believe Aemond has something he’d like to say.”

You look to your husband, waiting for him to either spew venom or put on a fake display of kindness to make it appear like he cares for the sake of your mother. But when he says nothing, you turn and leave.

—

“Be gentle, Tyvaros,” you say, motioning for Lady Rhaena to come closer. You take her hand and place it on the side of your head. Tyvaros made a loud grunting noise before leaning into her touch.

Despite his frightful appearance, Tyvaros reminded you of a kitten during the times you were alone; he purred while nuzzling his nose into your embrace. You couldn’t imagine not having your black beauty in your life; you were convinced one half of your soul completely belongs to him. Which is why you felt for Rhaena so much; it must have been awful not having that connection.

“I’m surprised my father allowed me to get this close; how did you convince him?”

“I think he said yes just so I’d stop asking him.”

You both chuckled. You kissed Tyvaros before stepping back to let him fly off to go hunt. The strong winds from the flaps of his large wings cause dirt to swirl in the air. You cover your face with your hands to stop anything from going in your eyes. When Daemon finally caved and said he would allow you to introduce his daughter to your dragon but not ride him just yet, When Tyvaros started to look small in the distance, you began to start walking back towards the keep.

You smile as your fingers brush over the necklace sitting on your collarbone. Since his daughters came to King's Landing, Daemon has been a lot happier, although his relationship with your father still seems strained.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone with us?” Rhaena asks. “Because if you are, I think I should fly on dragon back with you.”

“I don’t think your father will agree,” you snorted. “And I am unsure if I’ll be able to accompany you on your trip. I’m traveling to old town to see my brother, Daeron.”

She pouts, “Baela really wants you to come with us as well, and I know it would mean a lot to my father. He’s really taken with you; he values your friendship.”

You smile at her. Both of Daemon’s daughters were smart, kind, and beautiful, much like their mother was. You only vaguely remember meeting Lady Laena once when you were much younger, visiting her brother at court. She was very beautiful, from what you recall, and not only held strong feelings towards your uncle but Rhaenyra as well.

Over the past few months, Daemon has shown you more and more affection. He gave you pearls, silks, and books as gifts, along with a jade tiara that once belonged to the empress of Leng. He read poems to you in High Valyrian and dined with you often, either alone or accompanied by his daughters. You’d race each other on dragon back, sneak out of the keep at night, and under disguise go and see a play or drink in a tavern, happy to spend time together without being watched over. Your feelings for your uncle had become more romantic, but you tried your best not to let on.

Rhaena steps in front of you and says, “Please.”

“Well, I suppose I’d be rather lost without my two favorite ladies keeping me company. I shall see what I can do.”

Happy that she’s convinced you, Rhaena beams at you before skipping ahead. Traveling to Dragonstone with them was tempting; you’d never been before and wished to get to know your eldest sibling, Rhaenyra, but knowing the reaction you’d receive from your mother, brother, and grandsire was enough to cause you pause.

—

Your finger glides along the dusty bookcase in the library that is hardly ever used. When you reach the small table next to the only window in the room, you sit down and begin to read. Moments later, you’re joined by your uncle. “I heard my daughters finally wore you down and that you’re coming with us to Dragonstone.”

For the last two days, Baela and Rhaena had persistently begged for you to join them; both young girls were excited to visit their cousins and desperately wanted you to go as well. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be able to travel with you.”

“Why not?”

“I believe I'm going to travel to old town to visit my brother and some lords on the queen's behalf.”

Daemon snaps the book in his hand shut and says, “Fuck the lords.”

You chewed on your bottom lip while lowering your head to look at the book open on the table, but you’d lost your place, and trying to find it again was difficult with your uncle's gaze burning into you. Gulping it down, you pretend not to notice how intensely he’s staring. You didn’t want to admit the real reason you were hesitant to go.

“Ñuha zaldrītsos, what is it?”

Shaking your head, you say, “I cannot say; you’ll think it’s pathetic.”

Across the table, he chuckles and says, “I doubt that.”

You place a fabric bookmark in between the pages so you don't lose your place and close the book in front of you, knowing you aren’t going to finish it any time soon. “The last time I saw my nephews was when Aemond lost his eye and my mother did what she did.”

Daemon's eyes softened. “And?”

“What if Rhaenyra doesn’t accept me? I know how cruel my side of the family, ‘the greens’,have treated her and her sons.”

“You're scared she will reject you?”

You nod.

Daemon rubs circles on the back of your thumb. “Why does it matter to you what she thinks?”

“Because she’s my sister, and my father loves her so much. I know it would mean the world to him if Rhaenyra had someone on her side; he worries that she’s lonely.”

He sighs, “I promise you Rhaenyra won’t turn you away; she craves a family unit.”

“You can’t possibly promise that.”

“You’re nothing like your mother. Rhaenyra would accept you and your siblings into her life, aside from that insufferable one-eyed cunt.”

“Wow,” you say, raising your brows. “That’s the first time you’ve not called both Aemond and Aegon cunts, only Aemond.”

“Hmm. We are leaving in the morrow; I’d like your decision by night so I can let my daughters know beforehand.”

“Lady Rhaena insists she’s riding on Tyvaros with me to Dragonstone.”

“Absolutely not.”

Hearing the sudden sharp tone in his voice caused you to smile. You loved seeing Daemon so protective of his twins. Thinking of his sweet girls, you finally make a decision. You stand to leave it before you go. You lean down and kiss Daemon on the cheek. “Thank you, Kepus; I will see you tonight.”

—

A knot twists in your stomach as you approach your brother's chambers. The walk seemed longer than usual as your mind raced with all the different ways Aemond might react to you travelling to Dragonstone with your uncle, but during this time of day he often had tea with your mother most days so he wouldn’t be alone while receiving the news.

Ser Criston’s eyes widen slightly when he notices you, “princess.”

“Ser Criston, I hope you are well this evening.”

He opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it. Pressing his lips together tightly, he looks hesitant as he opens the door.

“Thank you,” you say, walking by him. It was unusual for the knight to not engage with you, and you also found it strange that he hung his head low.

Your eyes scan the room, and you freeze when you finally spot Aemond, your husband, fucking one of his whores. She was bent over on his bed as he thrust into her from behind.

Like a dog taking a bitch.

You slowly back away before turning and running out of the room. Strangely enough, you didn’t feel hurt or upset at seeing your husband fucking another woman; however, you did feel like a fool. A fool who had been holding back on her own feelings and desires to try and maintain some level of respect and dignity in her marriage, but no more.

From now on, you’ll be chasing your own desires.

—

You smile politely at the knight, who opens the door leading into your uncle's quarters. Walking further into it, you frown, noticing he is nowhere to be seen.

“Zaldrītsos, I didn’t think you’d come.”

Daemon smirks, walking closer to you from the balcony, dressed in only his briefs. You swallowed hard; he truly was gorgeous. “You’ve cut your hair.”

“I have. Did you come to a decision?”

You don’t answer him; instead, you grab his face, pulling him close enough to press your lips against his. Daemon seems taken aback by your actions but quickly kisses you back. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you from the ground slightly. You attempt to wrap your legs around his waist, but your dress restricts your movements. Grinning into the kiss, Daemon lifts you even higher, his hands grabbing your bum while he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

“I’m guessing that you’re coming?” He asks between kisses pressed to your neck.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.”

Daemon kisses along your jawline before sliding to his knees. Now kneeling in front of you, his hands caress the back of your legs. Slowly, he raises his hands up your legs until they grip the bottom of your skirts. Your breath hitches in your throat as he maintains eye contact. As the cold air sends shivers down your spine, he licks a strip up your thigh. You practically snatch the fabric from him and bunch your skirts up so he can make use of both hands.

Your free hand scrapes across his scalp as Daemon removes your small cloth with his teeth. Your heart rattles in your chest with nerves, knowing this is the first time another person is going to see you this vulnerable. One of Daemon’s hands slid between your legs, rubbing between your wet folds. After teasing you for a few moments, he pushes one finger inside of you.

You moan at the strange sensation, “Gods, Daemon!”

He gives you time to adjust before starting to slowly work his finger inside you before adding another. His tongue flicks against your clitoral area as his thick fingers scissor inside you, bringing you pleasure you never thought possible. Soon your legs begin to feel terrible as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, and you scream Daemon’s name as he gives you his first orgasm.

Smirking, he kisses up your clothed body, cheekily nipping at your breast before gently pressing his lips against your own. The taste of you on him was intoxicating. Daemon nuzzles into your neck. “My sweet girl, I will show you every pleasure possible if you allow me to.”

“Yes,” you pant, still coming down from your high. You reach for Daemon’s breeches and attempt to untie them, but Daemon stops.

“We have all the time in the world to fuck for love and pleasure. But tonight, tonight is about only you, my little dragon.”

The only reply that falls from your mouth is a loud moan as Daemon begins to suck and nip at your neck while his hands begin to loosen the fabric covering your breasts.

—

𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

“𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴.”

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥?” 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱.

“𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳.” 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘐.”

𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. “𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘥? 𝘖𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶?”

𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 ��𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦; 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸��𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭; 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢?”

𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢!”

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮; 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.

𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴. “𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴; 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳; 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯.”

“𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯!” 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰. “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘦.”

“𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴.”

“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳? 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘮𝘦? 𝘜𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘵𝘵𝘰’𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯?”

“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳…”

Zaldrītsos - Little dragon

Ñuha zaldrītsos - My little dragon

Kepus- Uncle

#house of the dragon #Daemon Targaryen x you #Daemon Targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen/you #daemon targaryen fanfic #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x fem oc #Daemon Targaryen x oc #Daemon Targaryen/oc

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lfzyxf · 4 months

Note

Can you write fluff where Isaac takes care of his sick girlfriend? I got sick myself quite recently and would like to read something like this with my comfort character ~ 🙈anon

Hope you like this, honestly i don't think he'd have much experience but he would definitely do his best to care for you. Just Isaac being the best boyfriend ever.

Isaac Lahey x gn!reader Word count: 840 Masterlist

You really don’t have time for this. Everything has been going wrong once again, first, this weird deer runs into Allison’s car, then the windows at school break because a bunch of crows thought it was a great idea to smash themselves against it. And now you’re stuck in bed, 3 blankets covering you, including a heated one. Next to you is a mountain of tissues because you can’t be bothered to walk all the way over to the bin. And your bedside table stands full of half-empty medicine packaging.

You sneeze for what feels like the hundredth time that morning before groaning miserably. You can see your phone flashing once again from the corner of your eye but just like with most things today, you can’t be bothered getting it. You close your eyes for a few seconds before the sound of your door slowly opening makes you open them again, albeit barely.

“Did you die?” You hear him before you really figure out that he’s standing in your room. “Yes Isaac, I’m dead, I’ve died a miserably, lonely death.” He nods before really taking in the view in front of him. He sighs before quickly walking over to your bin and dragging it towards your bed. Making an odd-looking face he starts throwing away the pile of tissues and lying next to you. “I was wondering why you weren’t answering my texts, figured it had to be something close to dead for you to ignore me” he explains while laughing.

You snort before taking the bin away from him and shooing him away. He does as you request, only to plug your phone into your charger. “Are you hungry?” You shrug before nodding half-heartedly, “I could eat.” Isaac nods back before leaving your room, making you close your eyes and rest while you wait for him to come back.

Fifteen minutes later your door opens again, Isaac is holding a bowl with what you assume is soup and in his other hand is a large bottle of water. He opens the door further by pushing it with his hip, before walking back towards you. “A meal made just for you by the incredible chef Lahey, you’re welcome.” He speaks with some sort of accent you can’t quite place and a ridiculous look on his face, making you laugh.

“Oh, thank you kind sir-” you interrupt yourself by laughing again when he makes an extravagant bow. He puts the stuff he got you on the bedside table that stands empty before jumping into your bed and laying his head down on your lap. “Caught a cold?” He asks while playing with one of the blankets covering you. “Some type of virus, again” you explain rolling your eyes.

“What’s that- the third time? This month?” He says while laughing softly, but his hands move to hold yours softly. You nod in response, squeezing his hands before grabbing your bottle of water and taking a few big gulps. “Shitty timing, like always,” you say once you’re finished hydrating. Isaac shrugs, a soft smirk resting on his lips like it often does. “At least you’re safe here, no birds crashing against your window. No annoying twins running around.”

He moves to sit next to you now, handing you your bowl of soup before softly kissing the side of your head. “Don’t think too much about the others, they’re fine. You need to rest and get better” he says softly, playing with your hair as you relax into him.

It’s quiet while you finish eating, he’s grabbed your laptop from the corner of your bed to try and find something to watch. When you’re debating whether or not to do another rerun of your favourite show, Isaac’s phone starts ringing. He sighs before picking it up, “It’s Scott-” “It’s okay, it might be important” you interrupt him.

He lets out another sigh before picking up, you can’t hear what Scott’s saying but by the look on Isaac’s face, it’s important. You’re about to tell him to just go when he responds to Scott. “Look Scott, don’t you think you can do this without me? Call Derek if you need to but I can’t leave right now.” You hear some distant words before they say goodbye and Isaac hangs up, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed.

You look up at him with a raised brow. “What? Scott’s a big boy, he can handle himself for one night. I need to make sure that you are okay.” He puffs his chest out, almost acting proud of staying here with you. “Yeah, okay big guy- I really need some protection here in case a deer breaks in” you respond laughing.

He laughs, shaking his head softly so his curly hair falls back in place. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says before grabbing the forgotten laptop again. “And to rewatch this show for the fifth time.” You smile at him before snuggling into his chest, ready to watch your favourite show again.

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #request

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writingpuddle · 1 year

Text

i wanna talk about this scene because its one of my favourite character moments for both aaron and neil. theyve just gotten to the cabin, only a handful of days after nathans death, and aaron gets neil alone and says this:

now listen. maybe what aaron is doing here is exactly what it looks like. maybe he is concerned that neil is exploiting andrew, and this is him being a protective brother. and i do think theres a part of him that is. he could also be reacting badly due to homophobia, and maybe a part of him is too. but mostly -

he's testing neil.

see, aarons not totally heartless. in that moment in baltimore, when neil was bloody and beaten to shit - aaron was horrified with the rest of them. he might not like neil particularly much, but when you see someone you moderately dislike tortured past the point of human endurance, youre going to put aside your dislike for a second. youre going to take their side, and aaron does. when the foxes claim neil, aaron is right up there with them.

but unlike neil and andrew, who spend the next few days in the emotional wringer with the feds, aaron had several days to process. to really process what allison pointed out to them.

and he realized he could use it.

maybe thats callous of him, but mostly its inevitable; this is how the twins have learned to communicate, to leverage each other with bribes and threats. he watched andrew nearly kill kevin, pick a fight with the feds, grip neils hoodie like he might disappear if he didnt hold on tight enough, and he understood that there was nothing andrew wouldnt do for neil.

meanwhile, neil is still coming off of weeks of telling himself, gritted teeth, its fine so long as andrew doesnt care about me, its fine so long as andrew doesnt care about me, its fine so long as andrew doesnt care about me...

hes barely begun to acknowledge the much less dangerous fact that he has feelings for andrew. less dangerous because if andrew doesnt care about him, then neils death wont hurt him, and neils feelings cant be hurt if hes the one that dies. but if andrew has feelings for him, then this whole time hes been risking that his death would break andrew - break the very person he most wants to protect.

so neil denies it. hes made the first wobbly step towards freedom, but he hasnt yet dealt with the moriyamas. he could still die at any moment. wrapping his head around his fathers death hasnt given him enough time to break those weeks of conditioning himself in the dark. andrew doesnt care about me. andrew cant care about me. neil will go to war for andrew but the idea that the converse is true is too dangerous to look at directly. to protect andrew, to protect himself, he denies it.

but when aaron asks neil if andrew will fight for him, he's not really asking. we can see it in the casual way he shrugs off neils denial. he doesnt care what neil says. he wants to see what neil does. he already knows - or has a pretty strong bet - what andrew will do. what he needs to know is if neil is serious.

listen, i am personally of the belief that if andrew released aaron from his deal for neils sake and then things went sour with neil, andrew would respect the broken deal anyway. but i dont think aaron sees that - he hasnt yet fully internalized that andrew does things out of his own brand of fairness, and not out of malice. so he needs to know; andrew will fight for this. will neil?

so he lobs a grenade at neil, a loaded accusation, and neil comes back swinging. and theres aarons answer. neil isnt exploiting andrew, hes not just playing around. hes as viciously protective of andrew as andrew is of him and those two repressed assholes might not be saying it with words, but aarons not stupid. andrew gave himself away when neil went missing and now neils showed his hand too.

neils right. he has been had, and hes just lucky that what aaron wants is exactly what neil wanted anyway.

#aftg meta #andrew minyard #neil josten #aaron minyard #the twinyards #the kings men #cw: rape mention

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y-rhywbeth2 · 10 months

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Gods and Clergy: Bane

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Well, I did the murderhobos, might as well cover the deity and daily business of our favourite hot-topic-shopping dictator and co. now? Ahahahahaaaaa There is too much goddamn material on Bane, I'm going to kill Ed Greenwood-

Intro: If you're not consumed with fear and hatred while trying to take over a city which you intend to rule with cruelty and an iron fist then this is not the religion/political party for you. If this is not the religion/party for you, please lower your neck so that I can attach this slave collar to it.

Banites: The hierarchy and rituals and stupid toys of the church of Bane is what you get when Lawful Evil and Lawful Stupid have a horrible, overcomplicated offspring called Lawful Sadistic. Bring me the avatar of Bane I'm going to stab this fucker Also, being goth is mandatory.

Dreadmasters: More teleporting! Bossy, immune to fear and fond of magic rods. Also, do you remember that "divine oath" Durge and Gortash swore...?

The Chosen: Should be way more impressive than what we saw in game. Forging unbreakable oaths! Pet beholders! Detachable shadow spies! Etcetera!

Bane: Boy, the world (and my sanity) would've been a much better off if this dude had gotten intensive therapy instead of divine power!

(This thing is too fucking long and should perhaps be split into two posts but ooooh my god am I not editing this anymore.)

---

Bane's clergy often hear their god whispering his dogma in their dreams:

"Serve no one but me. Fear me always - and make others fear me even more than you do. The Black Hand always strikes down on those who stand against it in the end. Defy me and die - or in your death find loyalty, for I shall compel it. Submit to my will, [as uttered by my ranking clergy] since true power can only be gained through service to me. [Spread the dark fear of Bane.] It is the doom of those unguided by me to let power spill through their hands. [Those who cross the Black Hand meet their dooms earlier and more harshly than those who worship other deities.]" - Bane's Dogma [with 14th century addendums in brackets]

Bane is basically the quintessential villain of the Realms. When a person pictures the face of evil, they picture this god and his followers.

The most important thing to know about Bane and his religion, in my opinion, is summed up here:

"The summons [from Ao] had come wearing the face and form of that which each of the gods feared most. [...] To the Black Lord, Bane, the summons came in the guise of absolute love and understanding, its light searing his essence as it carried him from his kingdom." - Shadowdale

You want to give one of the most evil bastard in the pantheon a panic attack? Give him a hug.

Following a brief version of a backstory that has been given for him; the mortal who would be Bane was born on Abeir, Toril's linked twin planet/parallel universe. There he was a nameless battle slave to Maram of the Great Spear - an ancient primordial being of absolute evil whom the Netherese had summoned into the world, where it broke free and started inflicting horrors upon the world. While in the service of said horrifying evil, the young slave nurtured ambitions of having absolute power for himself.

While on Toril he teamed up with his two future frenemies, Bhaal and Myrkul, and they killed (or possibly subjugated) his master and took his power for themselves, before heading off to nag Jergal for his job. After bickering, the ex-slave known only as "the Bane of the Ancients" wins the draw and gets to be what he always wanted - the epitome of tyranny with godlike power. The next step for him is to conquer the mortal world and destroy all the other gods so that none have power and control over him.

Banite religion is founded on the principle of making Bane's dream of global domination possible. Every Banite is a link in the chains of Bane's power. What they rule, he rules. All Banites strive to take over something (village, city, kingdom, army, whatever). All Banites are expected to aid and obey their superiors in this domination.

When in control, a Banite is to use their power to "further the cause of hate, fear, destruction and strife." Doing so within the control of the law is preferable, but chaos is tolerated as long as that chaos is wielded as a tool with perfect control. You can get voted into power by stirring up people's fears of minorities, or start the apocalypse and present yourself as the saviour - but you must not be overwhelmed, or you have failed.

The world is divided into slaves who have no power and exist to serve, and the powerful who command them. Bane is the rightful master of all and all are to serve him, and by extension his followers (those with the strength to seek, take and hold power), willingly or by force. Control is the key virtue in the eyes of the faith. Always be in control and/or be controlled by somebody more capable/deserving of power than you. As their lessers are expected to obey every order perfectly, the superiors are expected to be competent in their leadership and wield perfect command.

Banites pride themselves on being cold and decisive in all that they say and do. They also enjoy cutting sarcasm. It's vital to appear in command of yourself and the world around you - shouting, loss of temper and other outbursts of behaviour that suggest a lack of control/power are avoided like the plague. Two Banites on the brink of killing each other may appear to be in the midst of only a polite, but insistent disagreement.

Bane used to enjoy watching his power hungry idiots backstabbing each other to climb the ranks while overzealous worshippers splintered into factions and started killing each other (most notably a divide between the divine-magic based orthodoxy and the arcane-magic based reformers/"Transformers".) Then Mystra technically killed him during a fight with Torm in the Time of Troubles, and Cyric took over his church. When Bane made a comeback in the 14th century he immediately decided they wouldn't be doing that anymore. Now it's an united rigid hierarchy from top to bottom, and Banites are a well organised, well equipped unit.

The laws of the heathens are irrelevant, but a Banite who gets caught breaking those law trying to achieve their goals is expected to suck it up and do the time for failure - unless they've been doing such a good job that everybody's too far under their control to try and punish them for it, in which case great job. A+ in Bane worship.

Banites typically establish themselves in an area by finding a location out of sight of a civilisation and building a fortress, where they build their power until they are too strong a force to drive off. Taking over an existing fort is also a possibility. The temple is run like a military base: spartan, with only tapestries showing Bane's symbol and religious texts on it for decoration. The courtyard is meant for military drills and rituals, and there's a mass hall for dining and holding prayer. They like pointy architecture. And black. Oh, and the torture basements! Can't forget those. It's also where they keep a variety of trained monsters in pens. You may end up sharing your cell with a displacer beast or something, but don't worry about it.

Banites have a secret network of teleporting spells. The actual "portals" will be any space of stone big enough to stand on, which are magically connected to other points (also stone). If you stand on one and speak the correct password, then it will teleport you to the destination designated by that password. There are no spells or barriers that can prevent the teleporter from arriving at their destination. Banites can bring others along with them if they are physically connected when the password is said. They can't bring more than 100lbs of inanimate matter with them.

All are welcome to convert to Bane. There will be an interview where your intentions are checked, although if it turns out you're not actually evil-aligned you can still join. There's a good chance that they'll use magic to turn you into an "incorruptible champion of evil and uncompromising disciple of order" anyway; "for Bane recognizes the value of those who have seen the lure of good and turned away from it to serve evil."

Or just use dark magic to twist you from a person into a weapon/guard/servant bound to the service of Bane anyway.

Banites are also able to ensure loyalty with a magically binding divine oath called the Dark Promise, cast by his favoured priests (Dreadmasters). It's an old spell, back from the early days when Bane was a new god and his followers were vulnerable, and is not used as often. When the spell is cast and the oath is made, a set of circumstances are set into motion that targets of the spell must follow to the letter. The promise must have Bane's interests at heart and the conditions and stipulations cannot be endanger the individuals' lives. If the oath is violated, it drains the oath breaker's life force. The damage done by this spell cannot be healed, and if the oath breaking does not cease then they will die.

Bane is one of the few exceptions amongst the gods in that his worshippers are all henotheistic rather than polytheistic. Banites consider worship of other deities "foolish," Bane is the only master you should truly serve. All under Banite rule will be forced to convert to the worship of Bane. They are however willing to cooperate with the followers of Loviatar (pain), Talona (disease), Malar (predation), and Mask (thievery) as Bane has terrified these gods into allying with him. From a certain school of Banite thought, this means that they and their followers are part of the chains of Bane's will (the gods/faithful in question probably wouldn't agree). Bhaal was, or perhaps still is, a servant of Bane and he and Myrkul have also been counted amongst Bane's allies in the past, despite their tendency to squabble, so cooperation with Bhaalists and Myrkulites is not unimaginable when it serves both their deities.

Banites do not get on so well with... anybody, but they particularly hate worshippers of Ilmater (compassion), Tyr (justice), Helm (non-Banite order), Lathander (optimism/renewal), Torm (champion of the innocent), Oghma (knowledge) and Mystra. If they get their hands on one they'll usually torture them and leave their mutilated bodies somewhere for the distressed public to find. Bane and Cyric are still at war, both due to humiliation and the fact that they're still fighting over areas of divine power that the other has stolen/reclaimed from the other, and the corpses of Cyricists that fall into Banite hands are usually found with "heretic" branded on their foreheads as a warning to others who worship the usurper.

Banite clergy are expected to always be armed, and it is mandatory that you at least wear something black at all times. For ceremonial purposes, Banites wear black armour or robes with a blood-red cape. Wizards like to enchant their robes so that they swirl and give off illusions of glittering with "black stars" and have blood dripping off the hem. The higher in the ranks you go, the fancier the clothes get. Banites used to have facial tattooing, although this made them rather easy to identify and kill off when Cyric took over and some purges took place. The highest ranking Banites can be identified by a gem that they wear on their forehead. Banites are not expected to wear anything that would identify their religious affiliations if it would get them persecuted, but they do like decorating their clothes with spikes and are are expected to dress in a certain specific colour that I'm getting sick of typing out. When Bane rules the world we will all be dressing as goths under threat of execution...

Each priest has a ceremonial staff denoting their rank, which they will have at these rituals. When a Banite dies they are buried with it. They are unenchanted and purely for ceremony, at most being used to light braziers. It starts with a simple black wood staff [level 1], which at higher ranks has an ivory skull at the top [lvl 2-4]. Higher yet they add silver plating, and the skull is the size of a fist [lvl 5], and the even higher level priests that skull has ram horns [lvl 6]. After that you get real human skulls! [at lvl 7+]! They're allowed to decorate theirs how they like, as well as adding enchantments. So gemstones, magic runes, etc.

Bane's holy symbol is the Black Hand, a symbol of terror recognisable to the entire Realms. Versions include a black handprint, a black claw or a metal gauntlet embedded with jewels. Priests usually wear a replica of the hand as a carved pendant of black stone. There is another Black Hand seen on his high-ranking priests: elbow-length gloves crafted of flexible metal mesh or chainmail, usually worn on the left hand. It emits an eerie dark radiance, i's supposed to be black, and a non-Banite found wearing one can expect every Banite on the planet to hunt them to the ends of the world for this blasphemy (also it's about 50,000gp in value jfc). The gauntlet cannot be damaged by force and absorbs all spells of third level or less. Area of effect spells are not negated, but cannot affect the wearer. It can drain magic out of items, should the wearer touch them with intent to do so. The wearer can then discharge all of the absorbed magic into the body of another by touching them, causing them damage. They can also paralyze undead and living beings via touch.

To question or disobey a superior is to question or disobey Bane himself, and is answered by torture, disfigurement and/or death. The word of a Banite of superior rank is law, and you will do literally anything they ask you to do.

Banites have invented a magic whip (a mystic lash) that does all sorts of fun nonsense in case that happens. It's made of glowing red energy. If the priest needs their hands free then the whip can actually wield itself (need to scourge that annoying initiate, but you don't want to look up from your book? Then good news!) If the wielder choses, a lash of the whip may cause one of the following; paralysis, memory loss, seizures, extra damage plus the disintegration of equipment, or electrocution.

One is expected to greet those of higher rank by kneeling in front of them and kissing their boots

At the bottom of the hierarchy are the novices, who are addressed by the title of "slave." If they're good enough, Bane will send them a dream vision or manifest as a voice speaking from one of his altars - he will name them, and they are allowed to enter the first rank of the priesthood… of which there are 12 ranks with their own unique addresses, which everybody is expected to memorise. Disrespect to a higher rank will, as mentioned, involve insulting Bane and lead to torture, disfigurement and potential death.

The only time you're not expected to use the titles is when in the presence of heathens, Banites will address each other as Brother/Sister Faithful (when speaking to an equal/lesser) or Dread Brother/Sister (when addressing a superior).

Banites do not refer to each other by name, only by the name of their rank (unless there are too many individuals of the same rank. In the case you had a room full of Black Fangs, you would address them individually as Black Fang [Surname].) It's generally impossible for eavesdroppers to learn the names or personal details of a Banite.

The rankings are determined by character level, and are as follows:

Watchful Brother/Sister/Sibling

Deadly Adept

Trusted Servant

Willing Whip

Hooded Menace

Black Fang

Striking Hand

Vigilant Talon

Masked Death

Dark Doom

Higher Doom

Deep Mystery

The Deep Mysteries include the Deeper Mysteries… which have their own ranks! Secret, higher levels which are unknown to those of the first 11 levels who must address all higher ranking Banites as "Deep Mystery." There is no official means by which a Banite is bestowed this title, they bestow them upon themselves if they believe they should have the rank. The test lies in the fact that in order to keep the title their fellow Banites must also begin using them - in other words if you are not a pretender and truly have the power and authority to hold this title, then your siblings in the faith will follow.

The ranks of the Deep Mysteries, in order of authority, from lowest to highest:

Vigilator

Lord/Lady of Mysteries

Lord/Lady of the Hand

Imperceptor

Dark Imperceptor

Grand Bloodletter

High Inquisitor

The High Imperceptor is the Banite of highest rank of the Deep Mysteries, supreme living servant of Bane, and unlike the prior titles this one cannot be self-bestowed. I haven't seen any explanation for how it is bestowed, but I imagine Bane decides.

Banites don't bother with set holy days. We will have a holy day whenever the leading priest decides we're having one, and it will be called whatever they decide it is. This usually means a) somebody fucked up, time for a public punishment; or b) we've got an enemy/traitor, time for human sacrifice.

Rituals are to be held in as close to pitch darkness as is possible, gathered around the Black Altar (a wood table covered in a black cloth, a block of black stone - whatever, just so long as it's black so we can give it an ominous name). The Black Altar is to be made holy by having a replica of the Holy Hand of Bane floating above it (this too has to be black in colour). This is a levitating 6 foot tall stone hand that can sense alignments within a 60 foot radius, and it will attack good-aligned people on encountering them. When not in use it patrols Banite locations, seeking out spies and intruders and killing them.

And that the Seat of Bane will be placed in front of the Black Altar. The chair is black, its back is carved into the shape of a hand. Senior clergy sit in the throne when acting as Bane's voice for the rest of the congregation. So the leader of the area's Banites sits in the chair, and that means Bane is sitting in the chair. While sitting in it, the seated can read the thoughts of all beings within 90 yards. it can project a forcefield around the chair; can nullify magic in the area; allows the seated to see through illusions and invisibility; know the alignment of everyone present; allow the seated to speak with dead; and also conjure walls of fire. If the chair is knocked over, it causes a massive explosion of fire that kills everyone around it.

Then the party. With minimum partying and maximum solemn, ominous chanting and deep, heavy drum beats. Those guilty of disobedience or other failures will be chained to the altar and whipped in front of the congregation. And then there's the human sacrifice: "Sacrifices had to be humiliated, tortured, and made to show fear before dying to be acceptable to Bane, and they usually met their deaths through slashing, flogging, or being crushed by the Hand of Bane."

The traditional power base of the Banite faith was Zhentil Keep, the base of operations for the Zhentarim. The Black Network has once again been taken from Bane by Cyricists however, after the death of Fzoul Chembryl a few decades back - Fzoul was a Chosen of Bane and basically his favourite servant (who has since been made into a quasi-deity bearing some of Bane's divine power, that he may continue to serve) and Zhentil Keep is currently in ruins. The loss of the Keep (for a second time) destroyed Zhentarim power, and now they're mostly just a bunch of mercenaries with good connections on the black market trade routes (slaves, drugs, weapons, etc) as far as I can find.

The Dreadmasters are Bane's specialty priests, making up 10% of all Banites. Dreadmaster is a unisex title. They spend their time doing all the spellwork and making all the delightful inventions that have been giving me a headache. They have a stupid number of spells given to them. Nobody else's specialty priests have this many fucking spells.

They cannot feel fear from sources other than Bane

They can, however, project the feeling of absolute terror into every being within 10 feet of them, usually causing everyone to run screaming.

They can completely destroy the souls of the dying

Create extra evil undead

Create powerful, still sapient undead servants from dead Banites (from ghouls up to vampires)

Create animated suits of armour that serve the Banites, powered by people's souls

Make a warding symbol drawn with a mixture containing three drops of blood from a collection made by sacrificing 30 people. The ward is invisible and cannot be detected, and when activated it drains the life out of everyone present.

They have a supernatural knack for reading other's true moods and intentions They have a supernatural level of charisma and authority over their servants, who cannot help but be fanatically loyal

They are exceptionally skilled in the artificing of magical wands, rods and staves. When they use them the magic of the items is increased.

They're the ones who cast the stonewalk spells that make the teleport network run.

They're also the priests responsible for binding the Dark Promise.

"The Chosen of Bane are tyrants in every sense of the word, consumed with the quest for absolute power. Hand-picked by the deity of tyranny and fear, [they] are both charismatic and filled with hate [...] They seek only to rule with absolute, unchallenged authority over every living and undead create across the world."

They are unbothered by temperature, both hot and cold, as well as resistant to being burned or electrocuted.

They do not age, though they will still die at an age where they would've died if they did age.

Supernatural insight into motives and emotions, and a massive boost to their charisma.

They can mind control people, are immune to fear, can share this immunity with others or increase the fear they feel.

They can also cast gaes, which is basically exactly the same as the Dark Promise, but doesn't necessarily have to benefit Bane (blasphemous as that sounds).

They can summon undead beholders to serve them

They can grant their own shadows independence as an undead creature of the same name (shadows), While separate the shadow is free-willed, though the two remain telepathically linked.

They are served by a retinue of their own master's servants including: doppelgangers; helmed horrors; beholders; undead Banites; hell hounds; imps; displacer beasts; Banelar nagas (evil snake things with human faces)

Bane doesn't like using avatars, if he needs to manifest on Toril he just possesses people in positions of wealth and power who transform into handsome, yet "oily" looking black haired men as long as he's inhabiting them. The souls of these people are forced to watch as the god does what he wants. Once the body is "worn out" from all the punishment he puts them through (mortal shells, so fragile) he'll move to another evil or neutral mortal via touch.

If he strikes out with his gauntleted hand, then there is a good chance that the person stuck will drop dead.

In combat he warps the face into a more beastial visage. His hands become talons capable of "rending flesh and bone" and in the Time of Troubles when he was first forced to manifest as a normal human he immediately started editing the body into a more demonic visage although that might've been because he'd just crash landed in his own temple and destroyed it, and only had a few moments until his torture happy zealots turned up to find what seemed to be some random dude standing in the wreckage. He was in kind of a panic trying to make sure they saw Bane, God of Tyranny not... that.

His other manifestations as a pair of blazing red eyes staring out from the darkness, and a black, taloned hand which was the temperature of ice to the touch. They work exactly like his other manifestation.

Bane sometimes announces his presence, and that he is paying attention to you, with the sudden manifestation of the giant footprint of a boot, scorched into the earth. He shows his approval of his followers through their sudden discovery of a black sapphire. His disapproval is shown through the sudden appearance of red carnelian, ground into dust.

He is served by various devils, beholders, death tyrants (the undead remains of beholders that failed him), black dragons, banelar nagas and pride incarnates

Bane can cast any spell at will, save those that heal or create.

Bane was slain in the Time of Troubles. After his death his followers had an even bigger row between those who were loyal to Bane (orthodoxy) and those who worshipped his portfolio instead of the god himself and switched to Cyric. Many of the Orthodoxy began worshipping Iyachtu Xvim the Godson, son of Bane (whose mother was either a fiend or a fallen human paladin, nobody's sure).

Xvim was doing a pretty ok job in his nascent godhood up until 1372 DR, when Bane hijacked the essence of himself he'd left in his son and destroyed him - being reborn within his body and immediately regaining the rank of Greater Deity. About a few years following the Bhaalspawn Crisis, the year where Bhaal was supposed to be reborn from the death of his kids but failed.

Bane went on to continue being one of the most infamous, powerful and dangerous gods on Faerûn up until the Second Sundering, when suddenly we've got confusion.

In BG3 canon, the Dead Three are clearly greater than quasi-deity status. Due to new rules that WotC pulled out of their ass, gods of lesser deity status or higher cannot manifest avatars. Bane can still empower clerics and have Chosen, so he's most likely still a Greater Deity in BG3.

In Descent into Avernus, the Dead Three are apparently quasi-deities now, forced to exist in permanent avatars on Toril and unable to grant spells of have Chosen.

I think this nicely explains what I mean when I say D&D has no fucking "real" canon, it's all just a mountain of everyone's headcanons.

#Bane doesn't need to torture people; having to learn all the stupid details in his religion is already hell #enver gortash #long post #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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