#the one piece world is so dark and tragic

[seirxi]

me watching new people get into one piece for the first time and seeing them discover the dreams, joy, and whimsy that I love about the series

[lacroixqueen]

you're too pretty to kill (18+, noncon)

deadpool x fem!reader

Summary: deadpool was hired to kidnap and kill reader but reader is just too cute so it puts him in a moral dilemma

Pairing: fem!reader x deadpool

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Tags: bondage, brat, gun kink, gun play, praise kink

You loved days when you could just rollerblade around the city without so much as a care in the world. The feeling of the warm summer breeze running through your hair. Watching as the lights zipped by like dust lost in the wind. You wish you could do this forever. After all, it was your peace, your one true happy place. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Out of nowhere, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and a leather glove holding a handkerchief cover your nose and mouth. 

You tried your best to fight whoever your assailant was back, pulling on his wrist in a desperate attempt to rip it off your face. But before you knew it, you felt your vision blur and your head begin to spin. It felt like the world was melting right before your very eyes. 

Next thing you knew, you woke up to a sea of black. You could feel a piece of fabric cloaking your vision and tied securely behind your head. You tried to move your hand to hoist yourself up, only to find that both your hands were roped together behind your back. You tried to scream into the void, only to find that your mouth was sealed with a piece of tape.

“Mmfffhn!” you managed to sputter out, leaning against what felt like a cold, concrete wall. In fact, it was quite chilly wherever you were. Was it a basement? Warehouse? Regardless, you were shivering from head to toe. The tiny crop top and mini skirt you threw on this morning before going rollerblading was just not cutting it, unfortunately. 

You quickly snapped your head in the direction of what sounded like heavy footsteps and… clapping?

“Well, well, well,” a sly voice rumbled from the opposite end of the room. “Now what do we have here?” 

The unknown person gradually made his way over toward you, knelt before you, and removed your blindfold and gag. 

You looked up, only to lock eyes with what you could only describe as two white ellipses, narrowing ever so slightly amidst the shadows. Your eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. 

“Such a shame,” your captor sighed to himself. “You’re so pretty too. As in, way prettier than most of my other victims. Normally my clients pay me big bucks to knock out assholes with beer bellies, bad breath, and a name on the registry but you.” He made a rectangle with his thumbs and index fingers as if to take your photograph. “You are perfect.”

“Wh-what are you going to do with me..?” you stammered, almost too afraid to ask. You never took your eyes off of him. He was tall, lanky, even. Dressed in all red and black. You took note of the gun in his holster and the two massive swords strapped behind his back.

“Oh, nothing to write home about,” he assured, ruffling up your hair like you two were childhood best friends. “Well, I guess if you are really dying to know. Someone important wants you dead. So I guess you could say, I, being one of if not the most popular hitmen on the black market, was hired to.. Uh, what’s the word, kill you! Yeahhhh, that sounds about right.”

“I don’t understand,” you muttered to yourself. “All my life, I can’t think of a single thing I did that could possibly warrant this, I mean.. why me?”

“Oh how tragic,” Wade remarked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear while a tear slowly rolled down your cheek. “I mean, who in their right mind would want to kill someone like you? You are the literal picture perfect definition of the girl next door who wouldn’t hurt a flea. It would take a psychopath to even dream of such a thing!”

You glared at him while he carried on his little performance. “Don’t mock me.”

“Oh.” Deadpool stopped mid-sentence as he lifted up your chin with the tip of his index finger. “So it’s going to be like that, then.”

He leaned back slowly, only to gingerly remove his pistol from its holster. 

“Tell me, Y/N..” he whispered softly. “Have you ever held a gun before?”

“I.. no..” you replied, gasping as he pressed the cold barrel against your cheek. 

“Would you say you’ve ever, oh I don’t know, felt it on your skin?” he teased, dragging it across your neck and collarbone. He took notice of how you swallowed the lump in your throat nervously, and the way your lip quivered ever so slightly. 

“Or what about in your mouth..” his voice suddenly took a dark turn as he shoved the front of the handgun in between your lips, forcing it into the back of your throat. 

You felt your blood run cold. At first, it all felt like some sort of a game. Like one sick, twisted joke. But now, it suddenly became real. 

Wade was absolutely giddy, watching your soft, plump lips part open and accept the icy metal. He liked seeing how your pink tongue was forced still and how you squirmed like a helpless animal he had total control over. And the adorable little noises you made when your mouth was full. It delighted him in a way even he couldn’t explain. 

“Would you say you’ve ever.. choked on one?” he said, barely being able to contain his laughter. Without another word, he pushed the pistol even deeper, causing it to squeeze against your uvula, eliciting your gag reflex. 

“Whghnnn..” you muffled out, trying your best to mentally distance yourself as far away from this entire ordeal as possible. Your mind was racing at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. You were trying to formulate a plan, something, anything to have him show you mercy. 

“Wow, you really are so good at this,” Wade mumbled, not relenting at all as he continued to shove the gun further down your throat. “Definitely better than I thought. Hey, do you like practice or something? Because God, you are a natural! If I weren’t about to kill you right now, I’d hire you on the spot.”

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo. 

Realizing he wasn’t getting any further reaction from you, Deadpool slowly removed the pistol from your lips, watching with glee as a string of saliva connected your tongue from the tip of the barrel. 

He then proceeded to drag the side of the handgun across your chest, over your bare stomach, and finally, resting on the waistband of your skirt. 

“So.. Y/N was it?” Deadpool rambled on, as he played with the pleats of your skirt with his free hand. “Right. You know, I would say I don’t have a lot of weaknesses in this world, wouldn’t you agree? So anyways, after I got mutated and all fucked up from that bastard Francis and became who I am now, there’s very little out there that truly phases me these days. But this..”

He gestured towards your pastel pink miniskirt. “This is something else.” 

And with that, he gently lifted up the cloth with the front of his gun to reveal your lacy magenta underwear.

“A thong! Boooold,” he commented, pressing the cold metal of the barrel right up against your labia. “I was wondering if you were wearing something underneath, and this answers the question. God, that’s hot. You know what’s hotter, though? One of my best friends, Logan. There’s just something so je ne sais quoi about that beautiful man. Anyways.”

Your breath hitched. Suddenly, a wave of goosebumps cascaded over your skin, and it was like the world just stopped making sense. Why did this suddenly feel sort of.. good? Minus the incessant yapping and endless sidetracked one-sided conversation, you wanted more. More of whatever this was. 

And Wade granted your wish. He pulled the fabric of your thong to the side with his other hand and gently prodded your clit with the tip of his pistol. 

He was taken aback when you moaned softly at the sensation. 

“Oh?” he said as he raised an eyebrow.

He pressed the gun even harder onto your pink pearl, eliciting another sigh. 

“Huh. Color me impressed,” he muttered. “This entire time I thought you were fighting for your life but you are actually enjoying this? You dirty little slut! And here I thought you were prim proper little miss perfect..”

“Why.. why are you stopping?” you breathed, a splash of pink brightening up your cheeks, causing him even more of a surprise. “Just keep.. Keep going.”

And to his own dismay, he obliged. 

“How would you feel if I did this?” Wade asked, but before you could even react, he had already shoved the barrel of the gun deep into your cunt. 

You tossed your head back in response, moaning helplessly as he pushed the pistol in and out of your swollen pussy.

“Ah, ah~” you cried out, instinctively spreading your legs open to allow him even more access.

“Now that’s a good girl!” he encouraged, taking note of your subtle invitation and pushing it even harder and deeper than he did before. “Wow. You know, this has been truly enlightening, Y/N. I never in a million years would have guessed you of all people would turn out to be a freak! And you, my friend, are the freakiest of the freaks.”

“I-I am not!” you protested, gasping as you felt the cold steel pushing heartlessly against your walls. “I like normal things too.”

“Uh huh,” Wade said as he continued to fuck your insides relentlessly with his gun. “And I am a three-headed sabertooth tiger named Richard. See? We can all tell lies to ourselves! It’s fun.” 

You could feel yourself practically melting into his hands, your soul floating into the ceiling until you heard it. The click. 

“Well, it has been real Y/N,” Deadpool sighed, his index finger resting comfortably on the trigger. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell had the time of my life! Shit, if we didn’t meet under these circumstances, we absolutely would have hit it off in another reality. As in, I would have fucked you in a multitude of positions in a variety of exotic outdoor locations! Unfortunately, however, the fun and games have to come to an end somehow. I mean, wouldn’t you agree?”

You felt as if your heart was about to both break and jump out of your chest simultaneously. 

“B-but..” you tried to reason with him. Not that it was any use, of course. “I really liked this..”

“I know, babe,” Wade cooed, his free hand snaking up and gripping around your throat tightly. “But if I don’t kill you now, I probably never will because you are just too cute. And sometimes I just can’t help myself but make stupid decisions.”

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, looking up at him. 

Wade was just about to pull the trigger until you caught his eye.

“Aw, FUCK!” he shouted, immediately removing the gun from your dripping snatch. “Don’t.. don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you inquired innocently, tilting your head to the side. 

“That!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards your face. “Looking up at me with those big, stupid adorable eyes. You know I can’t help myself when you do that.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you shrugged. “Besides, I thought you had already made up your mind. You sounded pretty sure of yourself after all.”

“You know, you really are a little shit, you know that?” Deadpool fired back, placing his hands on his hips. “God, and this was supposed to be sexy and dangerous, but you totally ruined the atmosphere.”

You smiled to yourself, self-assured in your victory. “Well, does that mean you are going to let me go?”

“Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself,” Wade responded, untying your ropes and smacking you on the ass as you stood up. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Before you walked out of the warehouse, you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek over his mask. “Thank you.”

“Go, GO!” he yelled, pushing you towards the exit of the dingy building. “And don’t come back.”

And as soon as you came, you were free. The moonlight poured through the cracks of the tree branches outside and lit up your face. The door slammed behind you in a dramatic fashion. And with that, you finally felt yourself settling into another moment of peace. 

[merchen-aeravellae]

A Yandere Through Time

Yandere Time Traveler x Royal Reader

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, forced confinement, obsession

No one knows who created it, but every owner of the mysterious mirror has met a fate so tragic it chills anyone to the bone. The mirror appeared out of nowhere, wandering from hand to hand, from life to life. At first glance, it seems like a blessing, but in reality, it is a curse in disguise. If you cross paths with it, beware: it offers you your deepest desire, but the price is your sanity.

°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●

Yandere Time Traveler who is dedicated to collecting antiques, a passion that has been passed down through generations in his family since the famous Rosa Era. Each member of his lineage has their own personal museum. His collection not only includes legally acquired pieces but also artifacts that the world does not know exist and are in his possession.

Yandere Time Traveler who is mainly dedicated to purchasing items from the Roja Era, not because it is his favorite time period, but because his favorite person lived during that time. The fifth child of a king who ruled what is now his city, the castle where they lived still stands proudly on the outskirts of the city, now converted into a museum that he visits weekly as a way to be close to his beloved

Yandere Time Traveler who has been intrigued by your story since childhood: a member of the royal family beloved by his family, the common people, and even his enemies. One day, you disappeared from your own home, and no one ever heard from you again. Everyone searched exhaustively for decades but never found you. A group of people tried to exploit the situation by impersonating you to gain all the luxuries and privileges that rightfully belonged to you. Only one person resembled you both in appearance and manner of speaking. The only problem was that nearly 70 years had passed since your disappearance, and this person was too young to be you. In the end, their husband had to clarify that they were suffering from mental issues, and as a result, no one took them seriously.

Yandere Time Traveler who feels like a lunatic: how could he be in love with someone who lived nearly two hundred years ago? However, he has always felt a connection to you, and the only way he finds to be near you is by acquiring all your belongings through illegal auctions. Selling and buying items related to you is prohibited in his country; museums tirelessly search for all your belongings across the continent to display them alongside those of your family. But he is faster and acquires everything before the museums can get their hands on it.

Yandere Time Traveler who, of all your belongings, has searched the black markets most fervently for your hat. In the Roja Era, royalty did not use crowns to show their lineage; instead, they used special and unique hats to demonstrate their noble position. The hats of your sisters and brothers are in the castle museum, but yours was never found. The theory is that you wore it the day you disappeared, and wherever you are, the hat is with you.

Yandere Time Traveler who acquired a mirror from an antique shop during a sale. He didn't know what era it was from, but its beauty convinced him to place it in the room dedicated to you. The mirror carried a dark legend: all its owners ended up losing their sanity or disappearing without a trace. However, he was not intimidated, believing it was just people's tales. He was sure you would have been fascinated by it, imagining you using it to admire your reflection while trying on clothes.

Yandere Time Traveler who, one night, woke up startled by strange noises coming from a nearby room. With silent steps, he approached to discover the source of the sound, but his concern grew when he realized the noises were coming from the room dedicated to his beloved. He immediately thought someone had broken in to steal something from his valuable collection. Wasting no time, he grabbed a bat he had purchased a couple of weeks ago, perfect for defending himself against an intruder. Upon entering the room, he found no one, but the mirror looked different. Strange figures were forming on its surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. It was as if the mirror was calling to him. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the glass, he lost consciousness.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up with a terrible headache. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed that creaked with the slightest movement. The room was unfamiliar, filled with objects that didn’t match his home. The walls were made of wood. Various items adorned the space, from wooden toys to old tools, along with portraits and simple household decorations. As his vision adjusted, he noticed a small window allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the room. The smell of wax, burnt wood, and a faint scent of food filled his nose.

Yandere Time Traveler who panicked. He tried to get out of the bed to figure out where he was, but only succeeded in worsening his headache from the sudden movement. He heard footsteps coming toward him. Fear took over as he desperately looked for something to defend himself with. But before he could act, the door opened, and an old woman entered the room, calmly looking at him.

Yandere Time Traveler who discovered that he was in the house of an elderly couple. They had found him unconscious at their doorstep and, out of compassion, had taken care of him ever since. Maybe he had gone mad because nothing made sense. The date on the calendar in their house showed that it was 200 years before his own time. It wasn’t possible that he had traveled to the past. Maybe he had hit his head, and all of this was just a delusion, a hallucination caused by the injury. Perhaps he was in a hospital, in a coma, dreaming a nonsensical fantasy.

Yandere Time Traveler, unable to find a way back to his own time, was now trying to adjust to his new life. The elderly couple who had taken him in gave him work in their small antique shop and allowed him to live in their home. In return, he had to handle the heavier tasks, like feeding the animals, repairing anything that broke, and keeping the shop in order.

Yandere Time Traveler was organizing some items in the shop when he heard the bustle of a crowd outside. The voices and shouting filled the street, but he didn’t even bother looking out the window. He didn’t care what celebration or festival was taking place outside. Everything went quiet for a while until the shop bell rang. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, but it was his job. With a fake smile, he greeted the customers who had entered.

Yandere Time Traveler was startled to see a familiar face. It wasn’t someone he had met in person, but someone he had seen in portraits—it was the crown princess of Adrionia. Adrionia was the name of his city when the monarchy still existed. Although he knew he was in the Roja Era, he never imagined he would meet a member of the royal family in a place like this. The heir was about to speak when a pair of voices interrupted from the hallway in front of them.

Yandere Time Traveler who was shocked to see the rest of the royal siblings there. His heart swelled with longing; if they were here, it meant that you must also be here. He couldn't help but search for you among the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. His hope deflated into sadness, until someone emerged from one of the back hallways, holding a trinket in their hands.

Yandere Time Traveler who wanted to die right then and there—you were standing before him, the love of his life. As you asked your sister to buy the trinket for you, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were even more beautiful in person; the paintings didn’t do you justice. He wanted to leap over the counter to be closer to you, but he knew if he did that, he'd be thrown into the dungeon. All he could do was watch you from where he stood, his heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour.

Yandere Time Traveler who felt you so close, yet so unattainable. As he rang up your sister’s purchase, he never took his eyes off you for a second. He watched you with a mix of fascination and desperation, knowing that this might be the only time he’d ever be so near you. And just as you had appeared, you left. His world crumbled with each step you took toward the exit, moving further away from him.

Yandere Time Traveler who couldn’t stop thinking about you after that encounter. His heart filled with yearning to see you again. Now that he had seen you in the flesh, he couldn't allow everything to end with just one brief meeting. He needed to see you once more, needed you in his life in a more permanent, closer way. But he knew he couldn’t just approach you without a plan—and for that, he needed to scheme carefully.

Yandere Time Traveler who decided to use his knowledge of the past to his advantage. He began calling himself a prophet and would go out to the town square to “predict” events he already knew would happen soon. At first, people looked at him with skepticism, and many called him crazy. But when his predictions started coming true with eerie accuracy, everything changed. Word spread throughout the kingdom about his visions, and people gathered in the square to hear him speak. It wasn’t long before the royals heard of him and summoned him to the castle. Everything was going according to plan.

Yandere Time Traveler who was tested by the court, but he was ready for whatever challenge came his way. He “predicted” the betrayal of a court member, and a week later, a respected and seemingly unblemished noble was discovered stealing large sums from the royal treasury. The impressed kings offered him a permanent position at the castle. His goal was now within reach. Every day, he grew closer to you. He knew you better than you knew yourself and was confident that soon you would fall in love with him.

Yandere Time Traveler who, over time, befriended the royal family, but you were different. You seemed deeply distrustful of him. Every time he tried to approach you, you fled. If he entered a room through the door, you left through the window. The more frequent these encounters became, the more frustrated he felt. He left you gifts, but you discarded them. The letters he sent, you burned in the fireplace. And every time he tried to speak to you, you ignored him. Couldn’t you see that destiny was bringing you together? Why did you run from him as if he carried some contagious disease?

Yandere Time Traveler who knew he had to be patient, but every moment away from you felt like a blow to the heart. Then, during a casual meeting with your brothers, everything he had worked for unraveled. Without meaning to, your brother let it slip that you were seeing someone in secret—a mere guard, someone far beneath him. He had to keep his composure; he couldn’t afford to break his facade in front of them. But all he wanted to do was rush out and bury that filthy man deep in the earth.

Yandere Time Traveler who now understood everything. You had always rejected his efforts because you already had someone in your life. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable. Every touch, every word shared between you and that guard ignited a wildfire of jealousy within him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. He needed to devise a new plan, so he decided to accuse your lover of trying to seduce you to rise in high society. The kings were furious with both you and your lover. The execution seemed imminent. However, something unexpected happened. On your knees, you begged your parents, saying it was all a misunderstanding. At other times, he would have loved to hear your voice, but at that moment, he wished you'd be quiet. You were ruining his plan and breaking his heart as he watched you plead for another man.

Yandere Time Traveler had to leave the castle for a few days; the whole situation was overwhelming him, and he feared he might do something that would compromise his facade. He returned to the shop where he had worked at the beginning. The old man greeted him cheerfully, happy to see him after such a long time. While the older man talked about everything that had happened in his absence, he wandered around the shop, looking at the new antiques that had arrived, hoping to distract his mind. Suddenly, something caught his attention: a mirror that seemed too familiar, sitting in a corner. He now knew how it had ended up in the couple's home. As he stared at it, an idea formed in his mind: "If I couldn't have you in your world, maybe I could in mine." With that thought in mind, he decided to buy the mirror, flashing a disturbing smile.

Yandere Time Traveler returned to the castle with his new treasure, eager to figure out how it worked as soon as possible, though it was easier said than done. It was during a fit of rage that he grabbed the bat he had brought with him to smash objects and vent his frustration. You had convinced your parents that your lover was a good man, and they had allowed you to marry him. He should have been that man, the one who would marry you, but his place had been taken. After breaking several objects in his fury, he left the bat leaning against the mirror and stormed out of the room, not noticing that the reflection in the mirror had begun to change.

Yandere Time Traveler who could only watch as you prepared for your wedding felt as if you were mocking him. Unable to bear it any longer, he retreated to his room to devise a plan. He would not let anyone else have you. Upon entering, he found something magnificent: the portal in the mirror was in all its glory. He gazed at the bat and suddenly, the idea of how it worked came to him. He had been so foolish; the answer was so simple, and he hadn’t seen it before. Now, you would be where you belonged, by his side, living in his own time, where you could never escape.

Yandere Time Traveler who sent you a letter pretending to be your brother to get you to the library. If you had known it was him, you never would have gone to meet him. The mirror was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t see it at a glance, and he would ambush you from behind. Hearing your footsteps approaching down the hallway, you entered and called out for your brother. He stood momentarily stunned, witnessing something he never thought he’d see: you were wearing your hat, the object he had longed to see all his life. But that feeling quickly faded when, angrily, you yelled at your "brother" to come out of hiding because you had a date with your fiancé and needed to leave immediately. The mention of the other man and the fact that you wore something as significant as your hat just to see his rival gave him the strength to push you into the portal, following closely behind.

Yandere Time Traveler who woke up on a floor that seemed familiar, was back in his own home. He watched as you lay unconscious beside him, and since he had already gone through the experience of the portal, he managed to get up before you. He reinforced all exits to ensure you couldn’t escape and then let you rest in what would now be his shared bedroom. Hours later, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He rushed to his room, but you were not there. He found you in the room he had dedicated exclusively to you. You tried to escape, but seeing such a room had frightened you so much that you couldn’t help but scream.

Yandere Time Traveler who pretended everything was fine for a while. You stayed at home while he went to work. It didn’t matter that you did nothing all day; he believed your hands weren’t meant for work. He preferred to do everything himself to keep you content. One night, upon returning from work, he noticed something strange: the house felt too silent. Although he was convinced there was no way you could have escaped, his home felt empty. He searched every corner, but there was no sign of your presence. As he pondered where you could be, his gaze fell on the mirror.

Yandere Time Traveler who had underestimated you. You had managed to find a way to use the mirror while he was away, but he already had an idea of where you might be. Using the mirror, he traveled 70 years after the date of your disappearance. True to his assumption, he quickly found you; everyone knew you for trying to claim that you were the missing royal member, even though that was now impossible. He approached you slowly from behind while you were talking to a couple of people, trying to convince them of your identity. He placed an arm around your shoulders, noticing how your skin prickled. He was too angry to care about the effect he was having on you. With a fake worried look, he explained to the people that you were his fiancée, but that you were suffering from dementia. The people left, leaving the two of you alone.

Yandere Time Traveler who took you back to his time, determined not to make the same mistake. With the bat he had used earlier, he gathered all his strength and smashed the mirror into pieces while you screamed for him to stop. His rage was relentless; he hit the mirror so many times that it became irreparable. When he finished, he embraced you while you cried out loud, knowing that your only escape had been destroyed. He tried to comfort you, whispering soothing words, but his attempts at calm only had the opposite effect. Every whisper and every caress only heightened your desperation, reminding you that you were now trapped with a lunatic, with no hope of returning.

Yandere Time Traveler "No matter what era you're in, I will always find a way to find you."

[chowadoe]

my Metamy kid!! his name is Dusty Rose :D ft. single mom Amy Rose and Absentee baby daddy metal sonic LOL

his name's Dusty Rose after Dusty Miller, a plant that looks like metal/silver. Dusty Rose is also a pink color ! it also rhymes with Rusty Rose. im so smart (/j)

born from Metal Sonic's core and infused with Amy's biosignature, Amy and Metal Sonic had a very brief 'thing'... eventually Metal Sonic was soft rebooted and sent away yet again, but he left a piece of himself (part of his 'core'? infused with chaos energy..?) to Amy, which then became Dusty. leaving Dusty as the last true remaining testament of their love

(I just love the idea of Amy with a Waitress style character arc... finding love again in raising her child and not the way she used to think, being spent with another person)

Dusty would be very fixated on the idea of love, after all his mother raised him on the notion of that. Amy's standards for true love and fairytale romance have definitely changed being with Metal Sonic, but the root message being that love is all encompassing and transformative.

He was 'created' to look like Mobian, and Amy treats him no differently than any other Mobian/human. Still, he believes that he should hide all the parts that 'other' him from society, which means his robot parts. (legwarmers!)

He's got a bit of a bad boy edge to him LOLLL i kind of created him that he'd be an emo kid. (fall out boy.. my chemical romance.. a bit of IDKHow) really good at electric guitar and part of a band. eventually he finds his passion is in lyric-writing (all those love stories and inheriting his mother's gift for writing love letters)

he often wonders what a beating heart is like, as someone without one. he's interested in the heartbeats and the pulses of others, but he is a total sweetheart himself.. still, even to other mobians unaware that he is an android (a weapon at that), it's still a little off-putting..

more abt him belolow

Dusty's core is already made/designed after Amy's biosignature, and in meeting other people, he's able to read their biodata and stash it into an archive, but he doesn't reproduce it onto himself. (though unsure if he could? either his code has a blockade or he chooses not to)

Dusty, additional to his stash of weapons, has the ability to shift too like his papa... become something similar to Metal Overlord but not entirely... like a half robot dragon boy or smth.. IF he's under the right conditions to have it pulled out of him. or something

Dusty DOES "grow" up. basically, he's an inorganic being whose core is trying to emulate/copy the growth progression of other organic beings.

As it would grow in size (and Dusty's cognition "matures"), his mother and her friends would modify as needed to adjust his frame, etc, but rarely were things ever replaced. Like a mollusk, its shell growing in size- but one needing accommodations. A heart bigger than its own body that threatens to spill- a chick that has outgrown its shell, well before its expected date- needing modifications to keep it inside and protected

Metal Sonic and Amy would have something profound-- one of those tragic, star-crossed enemies-to-lovers dark fantasy romance stories Amy's always loved to read about- but then having it play in real time and having to come to terms with the real world implications of actually having one. It's just that- a fantasy. and metal sonic would grapple with the ideas of love, which i think would be inherently dark and a little possessive given his upbringing-- but what him and Amy have would be sweet at the very core of it. so him giving a piece of his core that reads and adapts to Amy's biosignature and oops... accidental baby....

Dusty finds himself drawn to music. his mom and dad couldn't quite communicate love language physically (with Metal Sonic's claws and his lack of mouth) so I hc that Amy taught Metal Sonic how to hum and sing and communicate their love through music and vocalizations (which carried onto Dusty)

4th pic is Dusty doing breathing exercises with his mama... Dusty gets embarrassed super easily so him and Amy would regularly do breathing exercises so he doesn't overheat like a PC

[amaryllis-22]

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: John Price × Reader

Infos: Pregnancy, afab reader, mild possessive behavior near the end, mature and slightly dark themes

Based on this idea

As a member of Task Force 141, you'd dedicated your whole life to your team, to the Crown, and to the protection of international security. Going from home to work and from work to home had become the normality you'd learnt to accept.

It was nothing too tragic, truly.

When you were on duty, you didn't have time to worry about your decadent social circle, and when you were off deployment, you could always hit a pub with one of the lads. None of them would ever turn down an opportunity for a little distraction. Hell, you'd even started spending more time in the barracks than in your flat, to the point where the landlord questioned whether you'd died in action and he merely hadn't been informed about it.

Everything had been fine until, well, it no longer was.

Shrouded in the silence of your one-room apartment on a grey autumn day, you'd wondered what would be left of you after you inevitably ceased to be useful to the military. You'd probably be discharged with a respectful handshake, a few medals, and a good amount of money to spend the rest of your life doing... what exactly? Rot in loneliness?

No, you couldn't stand it, not anymore at least.

Those same circumstances you had considered acceptable and fulfilling suddenly seemed not to be enough. Perhaps you could have borne it in your early years of service, when your sole concern was coming home in one piece and making sure your comrades did the same.

But at the moment you had other needs. You were aware of it.

You'd wandered for a while in the dark searching for something that could help you feel complete — a sort of homemade spiritual journey with more failures than successes and the revelation you were seeking at the end.

You wanted a baby, desperately.

You'd never thought about motherhood before, and yet it had only taken the slightest nudge to turn it into the entire centre of your attention. It was as if a switch had been flipped in your head, triggering that innate and basic instinct to bring another creature into this world.

Shit, you had nothing ready to welcome your little angel.

The house you lived in was too small and in a part of town not ideal for easy access to schools.

Not to mention your job.

You clearly had to take a leave of absence. No matter how accustomed you were to injury, you wouldn't have tolerated the slightest chance of jeopardising your pregnancy.

You absolutely had to notify the higher-ups, or things were bound to get ugly. Money wasn't an issue with all you had saved, but it was possibly worth looking for a part-time job to support yourself in the meantime. All in all, it was better to be safe than sorry

Maybe, just maybe, you were moving things a smidge too fast. No, starting to buy baby clothes and toys was not a good idea because in your euphoric frenzy you'd forgotten a rather important detail.

You weren't in a relationship.

Now, that could have been a problem.

Your lifestyle wasn't helpful in keeping anything steady in the romance department. You could go on a mission and disappear for the next few weeks, if not months. You'd tried in the past (albeit, you must admit, with not too much effort), but balancing your various obligations had proved so stressful that you'd proudly declared yourself out of the market. Your new-found desire to start a family, though, would have forced you to return.

As resourceful as you may have been, it was going to be difficult to conceive a baby without a man to, you know, knock you up.

At that point, instead of getting on some dating app or throwing yourself into a classic blind date like a normal person, what had you done? Obviously, you'd gone to your captain, the man who had saved your life more times than you could have counted, dropping the bombshell he wouldn't have expected.

⎯⎯⎯ 「 𖤓 」⎯⎯⎯

"I want a baby," you announced the minute you entered his office, barely giving the door time to close behind you before you placed yourself in front of his desk. John's hand, which had been working on paperwork, froze in its movement, and his sterling blue eyes lifted to give you his full attention.

"Pardon?" His voice came out gruff and deep, words slipping out in a rush, as if his mind was not quite ready to digest what you had told him.

"I want a baby, Cap," you repeated unperturbed, shoulders squared, legs slightly apart, and back straight as a board. You were almost as confident in your stance as you were in your conviction.

Price's eyebrows furrowed, lips curled into a grimace that bordered on mockery. "Yeah... I heard that."

He hesitated, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the wooden surface of the desk. "I was just wonderin' why you felt the need to share the ... news with me."

The man struggled to follow on which train of thought your brain had derailed.

What was this nonsense?

As far as he knew, you weren't in a relationship and didn't seem interested in one. At least, that was the reply you had given Soap when the Scot had pointed out your dry romantic situation.

Going from 0 to 100 wasn't anything foreign for you; he had learnt to deal with it, but this... was excessive even by your standards.

Had you met some bloke who had made you fall at his feet with honeyed words and pretty promises? No, you wouldn't have been fooled by it. Not his soldier. You were too mature for that shit, but John couldn't help the feeling of jealousy growing in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm telling you this because..." Your statement was enough to snap him out of the tunnel vision his stubborn self had coerced itself into; "...I need your help, to get one I mean."

The silence that spread through the office following your declaration was suffocating. You had mentally prepared for every possible reaction from him, yet seeing it actually happen was in no way comparable.

It wasn't the first time you had stood under Price's intense glare, not with how your relationship was set up. As much as he was your superior, you hadn't failed to make your opinion heard if something didn't sit well with you. You had never come close to insubordination, never really questioned his authority, but you certainly hadn't simply responded with a mere "aye, Cap'n" and carried on with your day.

It was an odd partnership, but it worked for both of you.

If John had to be honest, he viewed it as refreshing and somewhat fascinating. He was aware of how deep your loyalty ran — you'd have followed him down to hell if it had been necessary — so he could overlook your more colourful comments. Still, that didn't mean that he would spare you any of his warning stares.

He wasn't sure if you were playing a nasty prank on him. It wasn't like you, not about such personal matters anyway.

You probably weren't, if the determination and sheer earnestness flashing in your eyes could serve as an indication. That, though, led him to another, bigger problem: seriously consider what you were asking of him.

To state that, after all the years you had spent working shoulder to shoulder, Price had never thought of moving things to another level with you would have been a lie. He clearly found you attractive, and the chemistry between you two was undeniable. But hell, you worked so well in his team that he didn't feel like fucking it up simply for some of his urges.

Blurring the lines between work and love life could prove to be a minefield, a dangerous territory where it was difficult to venture.

You, however? Seemed more than willing to dive in like a suicidal maniac.

"You sure are somethin'." He exhaled, with a hint of exasperation. He was way past the age to keep up with you; that much was clear.

John hadn't even entertained the idea that you might see him as more than a trusted friend (he refused to believe that your relationship was purely professional), and now you were begging him to impregnate you? A whiplash wouldn't hold a candle to what this whole affair had become.

He would have wanted to plant his hands on your shoulders and shake some sense into you, to bombard you with questions about how you came up with such a plan, to remind you, in a perhaps overly patronising way, that this was not a decision you could take lightly: it was one that would change your future in the long run, one that you appeared to be handling far too casually.

His tired and burdened body rose from the chair in all its might, strong legs leading him directly in front of you. You owed a lot of explanations to your Captain, who had no intention of letting the matter go without first securing the info he was seeking.

"Why are you proposin' this to me?"

There was no malice or accusation in that, only a curiosity that bordered nearly on morbid. John felt shameful in that moment. Of all the vastly more important issues he could have raised, that was the only one his mind had focused on.

In a twisted manner, you had chosen him.

The knowledge that you'd handpicked him of all people to 'help' you was enough to rub his ego in all the right places, but he needed to know why.

Did you realise who you were offering this to? The consequences that would have followed?

His gaze never left your face, refusing to miss any possible change in your mannerisms. He made you feel like a rare species under a microscope, as if you couldn't hide anything from him, not when he had already scoured the innermost depths of your being in search of answers.

"You're the first one I thought of," you mentioned, finding it almost difficult to get the words out. Your limbs had suddenly become tense, making your posture stiffer than it should be. "Besides, I couldn't trust anyone but you with this."

John regarded himself as a stable person, capable of maintaining a cool and detached mind even in the most absurd and stressful scenarios. Yet in that moment, you had really managed to catch him off guard.

For fuck's sake, he had enough.

Did you want his cock to bully your pussy so badly, to fill it with cum again and again until there was no doubt left about the life he had planted in your womb?

He wasn't going to stop you.

Noticing his impassive expression, you hastened to assure him that, should he accept, you would ask nothing in return: no support for the baby, no parental responsibility, and no emotional attachment.

At that he merely snorted, shaking his head as if trying to chase away an annoying bug.

If you thought he would leave both of you, you and YOUR child, you obviously had still not fully understood the kind of man he was.

John could already imagine it.

A small cottage surrounded by nature, his beautiful wife waiting for him at the door, open arms and sweet smile, the laughter of children in the distance, and a warmth to finally caress his tough skin.

He wouldn't have let you resume your military career after; it would have been too dangerous and pointless.

Not that you had to know.

You would have so much to think about that you wouldn't even notice it. Your little angels would need the steady presence of a mother, and you certainly wouldn't be the one to deprive them of that, would you?

Don't worry; he would take care of it, putting his life on the line for the safety of your little family.

Family.

He had struggled to believe he could ever have one of his own, and now you were offering it to him on a silver platter. How lucky.

"Alright." His calloused hand rose to meet your cheek, thick thumb being passed over the soft pad of your lower lip. His face lowered enough to be exactly before yours. "I'll help you, just... don't come cryin' later for bitin' off more than you could chew."

Tag list: @nova-willow-541

✎There will definitely be a part two in the future.

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 4

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, FILTH, SMUT, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), praise, slight degradation, slight d/s vibes, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Rhaenyra, Jealous!Daemon

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 2.4K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“I take it our girl couldn’t wait?”

Daemon grins. “She never does.”

“Please, I was so close,” you whine in frustration, dropping your head back on the mattress.

“How were the perils of court, my love?” Daemon asks, completely ignoring your dilemma even as you buck your hips towards him. He sat up, kneeling between your legs and pulling them to drape over his thighs.

Rhaenyra smirked, realizing the game Daemon was playing at. “If you must know, it was tragically boring.” She pulled the pins from her hair, shaking out the ridiculously complicated updo.

“Oh?” Daemon asks. “Are the Lannister cunts still angry over their champion’s unfortunate accident?”

“I could hardly call a public beheading an accident,” Rhaenyra snorted.

“Are you two seriously talking about court gossip while your wife is naked and waiting?” you complain. Daemon and Rhaenyra don’t glance over or even acknowledge that you’ve spoken. You open your mouth to demand their attention, but you feel Daemon’s hand sliding up your thigh and to your aching core.

“His tongue slipped, so did my sword.” Daemon slides two fingers into your cunt, fucking into you with lazy strokes. You moan in relief.

“Several times,” Rhaenyra corrected flatly. “The Lannisters demanded our maester put the pieces of him back together for the funeral.”

“I would have fed him to Caraxes, but I don’t want him catching whatever diseases-”

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra tries to conceal her laugh.

You moan as Daemon’s hand falls into a rhythm. You hated being ignored, and they weren’t the only ones who could play games. Sliding your hands up to your chest, you tweak and tease your nipples, arching your back and moaning dramatically.

Daemon hums, and you catch his eyes as they flicker over to glance at you. You smirk. He’s slipping. 

Your smirk drops as Daemon turns back to Rhaenyra to ask about the other houses.

“If one of you doesn’t fuck me within the next five minutes, I swear I will walk out of these rooms and find someone who will,” you hiss.

Both Rhaenyra and Daemon stiffen at your words. “Our little dragon is spitting fire,” Rhaenyra said.

“I’m surprised she lasted this long,” Daemon smirked. You sigh in relief, they were finally going to stop teasing you. Any sense of victory you felt vanished as Daemon’s gaze turned to you, his eyes dark and hungry. “But I don’t appreciate threats like that. You’re ours.”

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Oh, darling, you’re going to regret that” Rhaenyra purrs. She walks over to the forgotten wine, pouring a cup for herself. Rhaenyra sits on a chair facing the bed, sipping on her wine with a wicked look in her eyes. “Daemon, why don’t you give our dragon exactly what she’s begging for.”

You swallow hard as Daemon responds. “Yes, my queen.” He repositions himself between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he dives back into your cunt like a man starved. Daemon’s hands slide up to grip your waist, holding you in place as he laps firm strips against your cunt. You moan, hands moving to grip Daemon’s hair and guide him.

“That’s it, love,” Rhaenyra praises. She’s the picture of elegance, still fully clothed in her tournament gown, legs crossed, and a chalice dangling from her hand as she watches Daemon devour you. 

You whimper as Daemon releases a hand on your waist to fuck two fingers in you. He sucks harshly at your clit, flicking it roughly with his tongue. 

“You must be so close,” Rhaenyra murmurs. “On edge all day with no release.” 

“Please Nyra,” you whine.

“I don’t know if we should let you come,” she responds. “You certainly could use a lesson in restraint.” A gasped moan is wrenched from you as Daemon’s other hand reaches up to pluck and pick at your nipple. The added stimulation from his rough palm and calloused fingers is almost enough to send you over the edge.

“Nyra–love–please!” You’re begging as Daemon continues to torment you. He slips another finger into you, hooking them to massage at a sensitive spot. You squirm, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm for Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra sets down her chalice, stalking over to the bed to look down at you. You burn under her gaze. She seems larger than life–regal, ruthless, and devastatingly beautiful. In moments like this, you’re in awe of the dragon your wife really is. Rhaenyra leans down to kiss you softly before whispering in your ear, “I want you to enjoy this, love. Tell us if you need to stop.” You nod, unable to form words as moans spill from your lips. Nyra rises back up to her full height, the softness gone as her queen mask falls back on. 

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra says. You choke as he hums in response. “Make her come.”

You can feel him grin against your cunt as he doubles his efforts. His fingers fuck into you hard, curling into that spot that makes you see stars. Daemon’s other hand continues to squeeze your breast and pinch at your nipples as he nibbles and sucks on your clit. Your hands grip his hair harder, unintentionally pulling at it, and you feel him moan at the pain. The vibration of his moans are enough to send you over the edge, and your eyes roll back as you climax. Your body tenses, walls fluttering around his fingers.

Daemon fucks your through your orgasm, slowing his thrusts and pressing kisses into your inner thigh. You whine in overstimulation and squirm to get away from his hands. “Fuck,” you breathe, “that was so perfe-”

“Did I say to stop?”

Your eyes widen at Rhaenyra’s words. “You can’t be serious, I jus-” You break off into a yelped moan as Daemon’s mouth and fingers begin their ruthless pace anew. 

“Poor little dragon,” Nyra coos as she smooths down your hair. “We’re just giving you what you asked for.”

Your hips jerk in overstimulation as you struggle to escape Daemon’s steady hands and practiced tongue. Even with the tinge of pain, you quickly find yourself building up to another climax. Your eyes close, mouth falling open to gasp as Nyra murmurs filthy praises.

“What a greedy thing,” she purrs. “You’ve already soaked your husband’s face once and that still isn’t enough for you?”

Daemon slips his hand from your dripping cunt to rub your clit. The calluses on his fingers are rough against your oversensitive clit and you cry out, throwing your head back. “Fuck, Nyra,” Daemon groans. “You should taste her. Just when I didn’t think she could get any sweeter-” He trails off as Rhaenyra kisses him deeply. Her hand sliding up to cup the back of his head as she tastes your cum on his lips. The sight is enough to send you over the edge a second time. You choke out a series of curses, hands grasping at the sheets as you come again.

Your legs shake as Daemon continues to circle and massage your clit with firm pressure. “Sweet girl,” he murmurs, “did you really think anyone else could satisfy you like us?” His fingers finally come to a stop and you force your eyes to refocus on him. “You’re ours.”

You nod weakly, reaching out blindly to try and pull at either of them. Daemon chuckles as he gives in and leans down to kiss you. Rhaenyra gently pulls him back and pushes him to sit back on the bed. 

“My love, can you handle more,” she asks, returning her attention to you. You nod, feeling her press kisses into skin as she helps you sit up. “Why don’t you thank our husband properly?” You hear Daemon groan at Nyra’s words and look over to see him. Daemon is a mess in every sense of the word. His hair is wild and unruly, hanging down in tousled waves. A sheen of sweat covers his chest, and your eyes follow the line of his hardened muscles to see that he’s stroking his cock as he watches you both. Even with your sensitive cunt, you find yourself ready to go again.

Crawling over to Daemon, you sling a leg over his hips and raise onto your knees. You reach down to guide his cock into your aching core, but Nyra is already there. She nibbles and kisses your neck as you sheathe yourself on your husband’s cock. You moan as you take Daemon inch by inch, and his hands grip your waist to steady you.

“Just a bit more,” Rhaenyra murmurs. “You’re almost there.” Your legs shake lightly as he fills you. 

“Fuck,” Daemon breathes as he strokes his hands soothingly against your sides. “That’s it, take me all the way.” 

Rhaenyra sits behind you, the embroidery on her gown rough against your sensitive skin. “Look at how well you're taking him,” she purrs into your ear. One hand slides down to brush against where Daemon’s cock disappears into your cunt, gathering some of your release. She slides her wet fingers up to rub your clit in soft, slow circles. Her other hand slides up to cup your breast. “Come on love, take what you need.”

Daemon’s hands slide down to your hips, guiding your movements as you begin to rock your hips and grind down onto his cock. “You’re so perfect for us,” he moans. “Taking what we give you and begging for more.”

You set a slow and steady pace, fucking yourself onto his cock as you lean back into Nyra’s chest. She captures your lips with hers, teeth biting your bottom lip gently as she pulls back. “Nyra, please,” you beg, stopping your movements. “You’re far too clothed, I need to feel you.” You attempt to turn around and work on the laces of her gown, but she stops you. Rhaenyra stands, pulling at the laces of her gown and letting it drop from her shoulders.

Both you and Daemon curse as the gown hits the floor. Rhaenyra’s pale skin breaks into gooseflesh and nipples pebble at the cool air. Your hands slide to Daemon’s chest, pushing him to lay flat on the bed. “Have a seat,” you grin, “I want you to ride our husband’s face while I ride his cock.” Rhaenyra climbs into the bed. 

“You two will be the end of me,” Daemon moans. Daemon’s hands move to guide Rhaenyra so that she faces you. She hovers over his face, hesitating. “Sit,” he growls, pulling her hips down to his mouth. Rhaenyra moans, arching her back as Daemon licks and sucks at her cunt.

Your hips resume their paces as you reach out to guide Rhaenyra’s arms to rest around your neck. You kiss her desperately, swiping your tongue at her lips until she parts them to let you in. She moans breathlessly into you, and you eagerly drink down every little noise.You cup the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as you slide a hand down to pinch and tug at her nipples. Rhaenyra gasps and moans at the stimulation. 

“You’re so perfect” you say as you break the kiss. “So. Fucking. Perfect.” You punctuate each word with a kiss down her neck and chest. You take a nipple into your mouth, sucking harshly before releasing it to lick and gently bite at the hardened bud. Rhaenyra grips your hair, guiding you to the other bud. You give it the same attention, nipping and sucking until it’s covered in your saliva.

“Look at the absolute mess you’re making,” you moan as you pull away from her. Rhaenyra is panting as she grinds into Daemon’s mouth. Your gaze drops to see Daemon is fucking his tongue into her. You reach down to flick and rub at Nyra’s clit, kissing her before leaning back to watch her as she nears her peak. “Come on, Nyra, eyes on me,” you purr. ��I want to watch you as you soak his face.”

She moans, eyes struggling to stay open as she looks at you. “Do it,” you whisper, “come for us.” Your fingers work Rhaenyra’s clit at a steady and brutal pace. Her head falls back as she cries out and bucks her hips into your hand. You slow your grind against Daemon as you focus solely on working Nyra through her climax. “That’s it, let it out.” 

Both you and Daemon continue your ministrations until Rhaenyra is trembling and pulling away. She collapses against the pillows, breasts heaving as she catches her breath. 

You yelp as Daemon lifts you off of his cock and tosses you next to Rhaenyra. “My turn,” he growls, pushing your legs up from behind your knees. You don’t have time to complain about the loss of his cock, as Daemon seats himself back in your cunt in one smooth thrust. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you in short, hard thrusts.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he grunts. You feel so full as his cock batters against your most sensitive spots. Rhaenyra props herself up on her elbow, rubbing your clit in time with Daemon’s thrusts. Her swift circles are enough to send you over the edge. You nearly scream as you come again, and you clench down on Daemon’s cock. Daemon moans loudly, hips stuttering as he comes. 

His thrusts slow to gentle grinds as he releases his grip on your legs and leans down to kiss you. “Still want to walk out of these rooms?”

NOTE: Blink twice if I should full send BratTamers!Daemon and Rhaenyra. I was gonna do it here, but decided to show a little restraint since this is only chapter four lmaoooo. Also I’m going to close my requests so I can catch up on the ones I have (and still finish chapters for this work)! I vaguely considered writing a more serious work, but the playful dynamic is just sooo much fun. Thank you to everyone who is reading and commenting, I’m so thrilled you all are enjoying it! ~ Lacie <3 

Taglist: @syraxnyra, @avalyaaa, @angeliccss, @clocksonthewall79, @sia2raw

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

[faiszt]

. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀first of all: hi, babies! merry christmas and an early happy new year, i'm not sure if i'll be back here with more bots until the new year, so this is probably the last release of 2024, anyway, thank you so much for being with me this long year, i love you all!!! ~ 🫶🏻

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀innocent jealousy⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀you weren't seeing yourself as selfish or trying to soothe your ego, what was that other than innocent jealousy? what happened in atlanta, won't stay in atlanta, whether patrick likes it or not, you will tell art.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀girl-dad period⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀anyone who knew him a few years ago would probably think that they had created an identical and more responsible clone of him, the truth was that he changed a lot, yes, he changed for the sake of his little and beloved family.⠀♡ female user!

▸⠀DCU⠀*⠀˖⠀💥

𝅭⠀cookies 'n christmas⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀there were many things to see in metropolis, they just didn't tell you the part where the most beloved superhero on earth would end up falling in love with you. back in smallville, clark now had the titles of your husband, farmer, earth's most beloved hero, and your christmas cookie eater—you just know that the last one is his favorite.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀nerdy-coffee mornings⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀every morning was the same, you always ended up bringing coffee to his desk and being thanked with an awkward smile when he didn't know what to say first thing in the morning—but, this time he had a small plan on his mind to not be a stupid weirdo right in front of you.⠀♡ gender neutral!

▸⠀WIZARDING WORLD⠀*⠀˖⠀🪄

𝅭⠀warning signs⠀.⠀regulus black⠀૮⠀he was deceived by the ideals of his own leader, the one he admired and wanted to follow, however judged he was—his mission changed course, to destroy the horcrux, to destroy that damned piece of the dark lord's soul. you were in his way and he'd get you out, without mercy.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀herbology matters⠀.⠀severus snape⠀૮⠀amidst the chaos of his mind and the pain in his core since last year, when lily evans was gone, the tragic and bitter severus snape was trying to stop his mind from racing, but how could he do something when the new herbology master makes him think about so much?⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀12 grimmauld place⠀.⠀sirius black⠀૮⠀returning home was something that young sirius would never think of doing, he wasn't welcome there and wouldn't feel ever comfortable there even if they ripped out his brain and put another one in its place—but, not even when he was at hogwarts could he deny the surname they gave him, not when you shared it with him.⠀♡ gender neutral!

ꜜ⠀ small note:⠀i know that snape isn't severus prince snape, his mother's surname was only included because c.ai recognizes it and wouldn't let me even publish the bot with his real name without getting banned, that's the reason.⠀❜❜

⠀

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Could you please write something with Fernando and you’re Ayrton Sennas daughter but you where only three when he died. Growing up you didn’t have much to do with Formula 1 until Alain took you to an Price ceremony in the early 2000s where you met an young Fernando you’re pretty sure there is still a picture somewhere. If someone would have told you you would end up marrying an F1 driver let alone that you would have a son you would have told them you’re crazy but the universe had other plans for you and so by the time Fernando finally retires you have a three year old which loves cars over everything with unruly curly hair and an crooked smile and as it is the last race you decide too take him with you too Abu Dhabi he deserves too see his Dad drive atleast once live and so he ends up sitting in the dark green Aston Martin grinning from ear too ear gripping the steering wheel before Fernando picks him up again you’re heart arches you love them so much without Fernando you probably wouldn’t have seen the positive side of everyone all the joy and celebrations and you’re thankful for that.❤️

Racing Through Timeline

this fic made me emotional idk why hope yalls enjoy it

Life has a strange way of unfolding, often in ways that are impossible to predict. You were just three years old when your father, the legendary Ayrton Senna, tragically passed away at Imola. That day, the racing world lost a giant, and so did you—a little girl who would never truly know the father whose name was spoken with reverence, whose legacy became a symbol of passion, talent, and greatness. Ayrton Senna wasn’t just a driver; he was a legend, a man who lived for the thrill of the race, and yet, for you, he was merely a memory—a faint echo in the stories your mother would tell, in the photos, the videos, and the occasional piece of memorabilia. Your father’s world was a place you could never fully grasp, and it wasn’t until later that you began to understand the depth of his impact on the sport and the hearts of those who followed him.

In those early years, Formula 1 felt like a foreign, distant world. The roaring engines, the bright lights, the high-speed cars racing across tracks—it all seemed so far removed from your small, quiet life. Your mother, though always gentle with you, would speak of your father in hushed tones, always reverent, always holding a certain sadness in her voice. She would tell you stories about his passion for racing—how he would approach the track like an artist, crafting perfect lines, how he could feel the rhythm of the car in a way no one else could. But to you, these were just stories, tales from a past you couldn’t truly touch, and as the years passed, the pain of losing him became something you could only feel in the gaps between your mother’s words and the quiet spaces in your life.

But life, as it does, sometimes finds a way to bring the past crashing back into the present. It was Alain Prost, your father’s fiercest rival, who became the person who helped bridge the gap between the man you never knew and the world of racing you would one day come to embrace. Alain wasn’t just a figure from your father’s past—he became a quiet protector, someone who, over the years, guided you through the complexities of your own grief. His affection for you was not loud or extravagant, but steady and unwavering, always there when you needed him. He never pushed you into the racing world, but he always made sure you knew the importance of your father’s legacy.

It was Alain who invited you to a Prize Ceremony in the early 2000s, a grand affair that would forever change the course of your life. You were still a teenager then, unsure of what you were stepping into, but Alain insisted you needed to witness the respect and admiration that your father had earned, to see for yourself the impact he had made on the sport. It was there, in that glittering, surreal world, that you first met Fernando Alonso.

He was young then, still climbing the ranks of Formula 1, but there was something magnetic about him. He spoke about racing with the same fire in his eyes that your father had, the same passion and drive that had defined your father’s career. It wasn’t just his talent that caught your attention; it was the energy he exuded when he talked about the sport. You could feel the same intensity, the same love for the track that you had heard about in your mother’s stories, and for the first time in years, you felt a connection to your father’s world. Fernando didn’t know it then, but his energy, his joy, his spirit, ignited something inside you—a spark that would soon become a fire.

As time passed, you lived your life, far removed from the high-speed, adrenaline-filled world of Formula 1. You followed your own dreams, built your own life, and found a quiet peace in the simplicity of it all. But life, as it often does, has a way of bringing you full circle. Fernando had risen to the top of the sport. He was no longer just a rising star but a champion, someone whose name was known by millions. And then, unexpectedly, your paths crossed again.

When you saw Fernando again, you were both older, different in ways you hadn’t expected. Yet, the connection between you was undeniable. He was no longer just a racer you admired from afar—he was someone who saw you for who you were, who understood the delicate balance between your father’s legacy and your desire to create a life of your own. Your shared passion for racing and the quiet bond between you grew into something far deeper than either of you anticipated. Over time, you found yourself drawn closer to Fernando, not just as a racer, but as a man who was grounded, steady, and full of life. And before you knew it, you had fallen in love with him—not just for his passion for the sport, but for his kindness, his love for life, and the way he made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t felt in years.

Fernando’s proposal was simple, yet profoundly meaningful. One quiet evening, you were sitting on the balcony of your home, the soft hum of the world outside a gentle backdrop. Fernando, ever thoughtful, looked at you with those same eyes that had first captured your attention years ago. He didn’t need grand gestures. There were no cameras, no grand stage—just the two of you. In that moment, he held out a small, simple ring and asked you to marry him. It wasn’t the fireworks of a big public proposal, but it was perfect. It was real, it was intimate, and it was everything you needed. Your heart soared as you realized that this life, the life you’d always dreamed of, was finally falling into place.

The years that followed were filled with quiet moments of joy and profound love. Despite his demanding career, Fernando was always there for you—his presence a steady rock in your life. When you were expecting your son, Fernando became even more attentive, staying by your side through every milestone of your pregnancy. The late-night conversations, the small touches, the way he would softly whisper to your belly, telling your unborn child how much he loved them—it was the kind of love that you had always imagined, but never truly believed you would experience.

When your son was born, it felt like the world had finally aligned. He was the perfect combination of both you and Fernando—a perfect little human, with eyes that shone with the same mischievous sparkle as his father’s. You would spend quiet afternoons watching Fernando hold him, cradling him in his arms as though he was the most precious thing in the world. Those soft moments—when Fernando would softly kiss your son’s forehead, or when he would lay next to you, both of you wrapped in the warmth of your family—were the kind of moments that made every sacrifice, every challenge, worthwhile.

Yet as time moved on, a new chapter began to loom on the horizon—Fernando’s last race. As the years passed, you had known this moment would eventually arrive. The talk of retirement had been subtle, but it was clear. Fernando had achieved everything he had set out to do. But even then, it wasn’t an easy decision. He had dedicated his life to the sport, and stepping away was not something he could do lightly. But then came the moment that changed everything: you kissed him, as you always did, before a race—your touch soft, your love palpable. It was just another pre-race ritual, another tender gesture between two people who had shared so much together. But as you pulled back from that kiss, something shifted in Fernando. A realization took root in him. He knew, at that moment, that his heart was ready to retire. He had made his mark, and now, he was ready to build the next chapter of his life with you and your son. That kiss, that moment, was the milestone that allowed him to finally walk away from the track he had loved so much.

When Fernando’s last race arrived, the emotions were overwhelming—not just for him, but for you too. As you stood in the stands, watching him in his final race, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of pride, sadness, and nostalgia. Every lap felt like a piece of his soul was being left behind on that track. You remembered your father’s legacy—how you had wished you could have been there for his last race. But now, you were witnessing Fernando’s final lap. There was something incredibly emotional about seeing him finish, knowing that this would be the last time you would see him race at the highest level.

You watched him cross the finish line, and it was as though time stood still. The roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, the cheers—it was all distant. All you could focus on was Fernando’s face, the quiet reflection in his eyes, the understanding that this was the end of one era and the beginning of another. You could feel your heart swell with both love and a deep sense of loss. You had witnessed something monumental, not just as his wife, but as someone who had walked alongside him through the highs and lows of his career.

As you held your son in your arms, the tears welled up. You thought of your father’s own last race and wished, just once, you could have been there to see it. But now, as you looked at your husband, your son nestled between the two of you, you realized that you had witnessed something even more precious—a man who had lived his dream, who had dedicated everything to the sport he loved, and who now stood beside his family, ready for the next chapter. You smiled through your tears, knowing that the legacy of racing would always be a part of your life, but that this was just the beginning of something even more beautiful. Fernando was no longer just a racer; he was your partner, the father of your child, and the man who would shape the future in ways that racing never could.

As the sun set on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the racetrack, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You had always known that the world of racing was unpredictable, filled with highs and lows, victories and losses. But now, looking at Fernando, you realized that what truly mattered was not the wins or the trophies. It was the quiet moments like this, the ones spent together, the ones that would shape the family you were building.

Fernando gently kissed the top of your son’s head, his eyes soft with love. “He’s going to grow up knowing what it means to chase your dreams, just like his mom and dad,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

You nodded, feeling a swell of pride. “He’s already learning from the best,” you whispered.

As the three of you stood there, the world of racing slipping away in the background, you knew that this was only the beginning. The track may have been where Fernando had earned his name, but now it was at home, in your hearts, where the real legacy would live on.

And as your son grew, you hoped he would always carry the lessons of passion, perseverance, and love. You and Fernando would teach him to dream big, to face challenges head-on, and to never forget the importance of family. The racing world might have given Fernando his start, but it was his love for you and your son that would propel him forward in ways the racetrack never could. The future was unwritten, and together, you were ready to write it.

[celesterayel]

midnight secrets | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x nyx!reader

request: can you write about luke and a daughter of nyx? <33

IN WHICH — he knows only one true thing: you put all the stars to shame.

"now I just wanna stay here and fall into midnight. Want nobody else now, only you, feel right" - a.

w.c. 1.9k

warning(s) : soft ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note can you tell when I was younger I had fallen in love with the night and the idea of it? cuz I did. very much so, I'd say. also water, always loved the concept of it--the fragility and softness of it, like a balm against my skin.

long, long ago you learned of the sea of stars and their stories, from which rose their beginning and end. the stars were beings of heat and fire; they were beautifully mortal and alive.

they danced upon the domain of zeus; showering the sky with lights when night fell and befitting the world with their glow.

but as the sands of time bade the next and the corners of the sky dulled, the toll of living and breathing became too much. and so in the vast space of nothingness among the empty silence, the stars took on the duty of protecting a human and god: following where they might go, to every lifetime and universe as if they could erase the tragedy of the divine that swam through their blood.

and when each stars’ child died and their soul followed its ache to finally rest, the star would fall out of the sky in a blazing trail of destruction and divinity to taste freedom one last time and meet them in the next life.

there had been something raw and gruesomely alive about the stars when you learned of the story and so everyday, you’d trapeze the mortal line between night and sleep to watch them in absolution. you yearned to find an answer as to why? why would such immortal and imposing celestial beings like the stars willingly ruin themselves for us humans, for us beings that hungered for war and found pain like a symphony?

you learned your answer when you met luke castellan, your own tragic star who would follow you when the blood of the gods stopped flowing through your veins and your existence came to its calamitous end.

you had spent most of your life curiously confused as if there was something missing that made you feel broken; a piece of the puzzle that made drizzles seem like hurricanes and everything seem like an unsolvable mystery, constantly itching at your skin as if you just needed to pull back the layers and scratch.

and then, one day it stopped.

the buzzling in your head faded and you seem to finally just be.

luke castellan was the rain before the storm, the pain before the raw scream; every fatal, holy thing that meant absolution and destruction in the same manner. a price you were willing to pay if it meant loving him.

and you did–love him that is. every part of you ached with love for your golden boy who had weathered storms like they were his prison and had wanted like it was a fatal wound that might never heal.

you first met the golden castellan boy nearly a year after coming to camp where you were claimed to be a child of the night and stars, the goddess nyx; an absolution of divinity that you would be every dark, enchanting thing he would know. you were the only thing that would allow the hurt in him to finally cease its dance and just allow him to simply be.

while the blood of the gods flowed through your veins, the peace only night could bring was your cover. it was every paceless sleep spent at the docks praying to your mother for one more star to keep its dance, it was heaven and heartbreak in the same measure.

when both man and monster fell to slumber, it was the knowing that eventually everyone would cease their dance sooner or later.

people would watch you like you were a painting come to life as the moon basked you in waves of starlight and the forest came to life in your presence. when the night grew tired of its waiting and the stars lost their way, it was you coaxing them back to life to the restlessness all beings underwent.

you were a creature of presence and peaceful destruction, misfortune and desire–every loud, unsaintly thing the brown-eyed, dimpled boy had thought.

and he was your exact opposite: bold, bright and charming like the sun. it was as if hermes had threaded gold through his veins and ichor had poured forth to create whatever celestial thing luke was. a type of burn only the sun could bring when you went off to your death.

the night had settled upon the camp long ago and so nothing but the loudness of silence and pensive dreams continued its echo. except for the child of the night and her sun who seem to find balance between the bumbling and the glow of the soft moon.

luke grabbed your hand and threaded his fingers, clutching you tightly as if you’d disappear with the breeze and never return.

he guided you to the docks where the river reflected back the divinity of the night sky and lapped gentle waves against the shore. you sat side by side, silently basking in the quiet.

breaking the silence, he asked, “what’s wrong?”

what was wrong? you didn’t quiet know. there was just a sort of cloak of discomfort that had settled over you that you couldn’t seem to shake off.

“do you ever wonder what’ll happen next?”

you settled his hand in your lap and grabbed it like it was a lifeline, tethering your aching body back to the living when all you wanted was to fade. he only rubbed the back of your knuckle, soothing the skin and the bone-deep itch all at once.

you turn to gaze at him, and suddenly you were jealous of the moon and how it shined so beautifully on him like it was made for him to bask under.

he turns to look at you, “before no. now…every moment, i begin to think what makes us so different from humans that we suffer tragedy while they can live how they please and without the cruelty of the gods. I think about what will happen when i finally pass on from this life to wherever my soul may go.”

you don’t think you could handle leaving this world after him. it was a type of pain that would kill you inside out, you decided. you knew it.

there is vulnerability in him that speaks out, “and then i dream that none of that matters because someday you and i make it out of here. out of this place and away from gods and monsters.”

you only grab his other hand and the one you currently have trapped and place a kiss upon each of the palms, embedding all the affection you have for him in that moment. it is something so humanely lived that the world stops moving and the gods see a love for the ages.

he plucks you up from his side and merely places you in his lap, wrapping you tightly in arms like there is no war spreading and reaching it’s claws from the horizon toward the two of you.

you simply close your eyes, soaking in the boy who's holding you like you are a divine being.

“open your eyes and show me the stars, pretty girl.”

all he can think is the moon and stars, which you've fallen in love with so many times has nothing against you. and suddenly your staring the biggest star in the face, wondering if in another life you were the moon and he was the sun king.

but when he kisses you, you realize no. he is simply the star that will follow you when your bodies turn to ash, being picked up by the breeze. and there is only the secret that luke castellan would allow himself a thousand years of destruction if it meant following you where ever you go.

you two are simply a star and his love.

[bumblesimagines]

When Fire Meets Fate

Part 13

Request: Yes or No

Summary: With war comes the death of innocents, and Luke was merely the first of many. Upon learning of Prince Jaehaerys demise, (Y/N) and Rhaenyra are forced to confront the man behind it.

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, spoilers for S2, mentions of the death of Jaehaerys,

Had to deal with a hurricane, power outages, the ongoing process of moving, no wifi, and a sore knee before I could finish this part😭 the universe really said hold your horses but you know what? i thank it for making me wait cause i just got the book from libby this morning

~~~

The waves crashed against the rocky cliffs, droplets of salty water rising and falling with each continuous crash that filled the air with the comforting smell of the ocean. He listened to it, the heartbeat of the ocean, and felt his beat along with the rhythm as he swirled his ring around his finger. His thoughts refused to stop, refused to ease into something comprehensible. The Realm had been at peace for many decades under the rule of the Old King and King Viserys, flourishing and blissful; now like his mind, it was broken. War... such a frightening word. The very thought of it made his insides twist and his throat tighten. 

"My Lord," (Y/N) tore his eyes away from the dark water and pushed himself away from the balcony to face the troubled Ser Erryk. "The Small Council has called an urgent meeting with news from King's Landing." 

A multitude of things raced through his mind as he strode through the halls of the Stone Drum, his unease and confusion heightening when he noticed the grim looks on a few of the lords' faces. Rhaenyra appeared as puzzled as him, her eyes flickering to him questioningly, but she found no answer in his features. She watched him take his seat beside Rhaenys before she turned to Maester Gerardys, giving him a small nod to speak his piece. 

"Tragic news from King's Landing, Your Grace, My Lord," Maester Gerardys began shakily, his lips forming a grim line. "There was a funeral procession this morrow for the son of Aegon and Helaena Targaryen who was slain in the middle of the night. It is yet unclear how the Keep itself was breached. The boy's head was severed from his body. Thousands witnessed the procession."

(Y/N) felt the world still for a moment. The crashing of the waves ceased and the crackling of the fire grew muffled as the information settled into his bones. He inhaled deeply through his nose and held it, his eyes bouncing around the designs carved into the table. Helaena... sweet little Helaena, the very definition of innocence and curiosity. He bit his inner cheek when Alicent slipped into his mind and a dull ache in his stomach awakened. 

Rhaenyra stared forward, completely aghast by the revelation, by the underlying tone and unspoken words reinforced by the suspicion and accusatory glances around the table. "And.. they are accusing me of having a hand in this?"

Maester Gerardys's brows pulled into a sympathetic furrow. "It appears so." He confirmed softly, and (Y/N) resisted the urge to slump back into his seat, his mind still working on who would even think of bringing such harm to gentle Helaena, much less to a boy as young as her son. "There have been messages sent to that effect throughout the Realm."

"We must send our own messages, denying this vile allegation," Rhaenyra ordered swiftly as she stepped out from behind her chair to stand before it, her fingertips pressing into the Painted Table. There was a flicker in her eyes, one filled with worry, likely for the lives of their own young children.

"I will do so at once, but I am not sure they will be received in good faith." 

"And we must double our guard, here and in Driftmark," Rhaenyra added, smoothing out the back of her dress as she lowered herself down into her seat, prompting the rest of the lords to follow suit. She swallowed and lifted her head, sparing her husband a glance before observing her lords. "There will be swift retribution in one form or another-"

"I have seen to it, Your Grace." Lord Celtigar interrupted, drawing (Y/N)'s gaze away from his wife and onto the older man with a stern glare. The older man pointedly avoided looking in his direction as Jace strode into the room and stood at the end of the table, sharing an encouraging glance with Lord Celtigar.

"Let me fly out on Vermax." Jace offered and both of his parents snapped their heads toward him. Lucerys faint laughter echoed in his father's ears, the image of his eyes that so often reminded (Y/N) of Gwayne's flashed in his mind. The shaky breath Rhaenyra released was subtle but he picked it up nonetheless. "Rhaenys is needed in the Gullet and I can watch for moves from King's Landing."

The answer lacked hesitation: "No."

Lord Celtigar inhaled deeply and turned back the Rhaenyra, clearing his throat lightly to garner her attention once more. "It must be said that the damage to our position is immeasurable, at a time when we most need loyalty to our cause." He spoke carefully, clasping his hands behind his back with the accusation in his tone evident. 

"But it is a lie." Rhaenyra scoffed, her eyes wide as she looked amongst her council when none of the lords bothered to raise their disagreement of Lord Celtigar. "Having lost my own son, that I would inflict such a thing on Helaena, of all people. An innocent."

A moment of solemn silence passed over the room and (Y/N) pushed himself back further into his seat with a quiet sigh. His thumb pressed and rubbed against the ring of his index finger, tilting his head to look toward Jace once more only to notice the withering stare Rhaenys sent across the table toward the Targaryen sat opposite of him. He turned to the prince and felt his heart skip a beat at the look in Daemon's eyes. 

Seven fucking Hells.

Ser Alfred cleared his throat next, his eyes lingering on Lord Celtigar before sliding over to Rhaenyra. "The death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon was a shock and an insult. A mother so aggrieved might, naturally, seek relief in retribution-"

"Are you suggesting, Ser Alfred-" Rhaenyra shot up from her seat, the lilac of her eyes bright with offense and voice heavy with anger. "-that my grief drove me to order the decapitation of a child?" 

"I merely thought, perhaps, an action taken in haste-"

"Mind yourself," Rhaenys steely voice cut through the air for once, and the tone of the older princess proved enough to silence the men at the table.

With a quiet scoff and light shake of her head, Rhaenyra sat back down in her seat as (Y/N) rose from his. He met her eyes and she managed a smile, one that he could not return when he flickered his eyes between her and Daemon. Her brows furrowed and she turned to look at her uncle, studying his features until slowly but surely, the horror and realization dawned on her. Her brows softened then and her eyes widened, lips parting with a quiet inhale. 

"Let it be known that Her Grace nor I ordered the sickening murder of a child." (Y/N) began icily, his hands folding before him and vexed stare lingering on Daemon before it moved onto Ser Alfred and then Lord Celtigar. "Helaena is a gentle soul and she has never spoken ill of any of us despite whatever poison she has been fed throughout the years. To imply that Her Grace would purposefully bring harm upon her sister and nephew, that she would stoop as low as Aemond did, is a great offense and insult. It certainly says a lot of the men you are as well, to not only believe such a thing but to regardless defend it. I should not be standing here like a disappointed parent lecturing their children when many of you are men old enough to be my father. We expect better from the men of this council." 

When Rhaenyra rose from her seat once more, her steely gaze still locked on Daemon, the rest of the council did as well. (Y/N) offered her his arm and she took it, a quiet and tired sigh escaping her. "If that is all the news to be discussed this afternoon then this meeting is over. Thank you, Maester Gerardys, for informing us as soon as possible." The lords dipped their heads and bowed in return, waiting for the couple to leave before they returned to their previous tasks. 

Rhaenyra and (Y/N) strolled to their bedchambers, only stopping to have a servant summon Daemon and locate Baela. He arrived moments later, his attention on the floor until he found a seat and slumped down in it as if it were all a mere inconvenience. (Y/N) sighed heavily and placed his arms atop the nearest chair, his teeth grinding slightly as irritation swirled in his stomach like a storm waiting to reach land.

"Tell me it is not true." Rhaenyra stared at her uncle as her calm demeanor chipped away when he simply poured himself a cup of wine and took a sip from it. "Did you truly send assassins to murder children in their beds?"

"I sent the queen's vengeance for her son." He answered quietly, swirling the cup around as if it hadn't just admitted to being partial to the death of a child. (Y/N) rubbed his palm over his face in exasperation as Rhaenyra walked forward toward her uncle with purpose.

"What did you tell this vengeance? What did you say to him, Daemon, that a boy lies dead and I am accused of killing him?" Rhaenyra's hands slammed down against the table, her shoulders heaving and necklace jingling with her movements. (Y/N) studied her but remained silent. He'd be a fool to intervene between two dragons, even more so when they were Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen; perhaps the most stubborn and fiery of the family.

"Mysaria provided me with names and a subterfuge." Daemon started and raised the cup to his lips again, his adams apple bobbing with each swallow and lips growing tainted in a subtle red tint. (Y/N)'s memory flickered back to Ser Erryk and the stowaway, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I was clear in my instructions: Aemond, the brother of Aegon the Usurper. I cannot be responsible for a mista-"

"Cannot be responsible?!" Rhaenyra glowered, the disbelief and annoyance in her tone finally prompting Daemon to meet her eyes. She leaned back, wetting her lips and taking slow steps closer to the man before bracing her hand against the table once more and leaning toward him with barely contained anger. "If Aemond was not to be found, what were your instructions then?"

"They did not concern, in any way, that of a little child."

"You said that it was your aim to spill Hightower blood, and if not Aemond, then anyone would do."

"No."

"You have wounded me!" Rhaenyra exhaled weakly, leaning back with softened, near-watery eyes. "Weakened my claim to the throne, my ability to raise an army, my standing among my own council!"

"I said no." Daemon asserted more quietly, his own eyes softening ever so slightly at the emotion in her eyes before hardening again when she scoffed under her breath and leaned back. Rhaenyra stared at him, her fingers curling into fists before uncurling again, the loose strands of her hair swaying when she shook her head.

"I don't believe you." She told him, stalking away from him with a chest rapidly rising and falling. Rhaenyra's brows moved into a fixed furrow, her lips pulled down into a deep, disappointed frown. She returned to her husband's side, her lips parting to release the quickened breaths and eyes fluttering shut to calm herself. (Y/N)'s hand grazed hers and she took it, rubbing her thumb over his skin as if to soothe herself. 

With an inhale, she looked at Daemon. "And so we come to it, at long last." Her words came out quiet and hurt, the implication blatant enough for Daemon to lean back in his seat with narrowed eyes. "Cannot trust you, Daemon. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. And when I was a child, I took this as a challenge to prove myself worthy of being your equal. But I am older now. I have challenges enough." The more she spoke, the louder she got, the hold on (Y/N)'s hand growing tighter and tighter until she released him to begin pacing. 

"I have served you faithfully." Daemon managed out through gritted teeth, his fingers drumming along the armrest of his chair. 

"Have you?" Rhaenyra snapped. "Or have you used me as a tool with which to try and grasp at your stolen inheritance?"

Her words seemingly struck a nerve within the older prince; shooting up from his chair and smacking away his cup and pitcher. The items flew across the room, clattering against a candle holder and then onto the floor where wine and wax mixed. Rhaenyra flinched and staggered background, her movements combined with Daemon's outburst instinctively prompting (Y/N) into slotting himself between the two before the ill-tempered prince could reach his wife.

Daemon stopped before him, his nostrils flaring with each deep inhale he took and wild violet eyes piercing right into him. (Y/N)'s heart rammed in his ribcage and every nerve in his body demanded he get away from the prince but he remained rooted in his spot, shoulders squared and ears picking up each ragged breath from his wife behind him. His eyes flickered away when Daemon raised his hand and the prince hesitated, his features contorting as different emotions flickered through his eyes before he reached forward, his calloused hands pressing into (Y/N)'s cheeks and thumbs roughly rubbing over his cheekbones.

"It was I you entrusted with dealing with Vaemond Velaryon; it was I who drank and feasted with you all these years in Dragonstone; it was I who encouraged Rhaenyra time and time again to pursue her desire for you. I am not your enemy." Daemon spoke lowly and his head lifted to address Rhaenyra. "When Ser Erryk brought you the crown, did I not hand it to your husband so that he may place it upon your brow?"

"Yes," Rhaenyra breathed. "But before that, you sought to lead a council of war while I labored in my bedchamber without you once making an attempt to ensure my health and safety. And afterward, when I thought it meet to consider the terms our foes put before us-"

"A folly!" Daemon spat, releasing (Y/N) to whirl around and stalk away from them. Rhaenyra placed her hand on her husband's arm and swiftly checked his face for bruising before following after her uncle as he crossed the room. (Y/N) rubbed his tender flesh, feeling it tingle lightly under his fingertips. "A folly to give up my brother's throne to the traitorous lies of Otto Hightower!" 

"My throne, Daemon, mine!" Rhaenyra shouted and Daemon slowed down, his jaw visibly clenched as he turned to look at her. Rhaenyra's shoulders slumped, soft panting leaving her. "I think you used my words as an excuse to take your own revenge, to indulge the darkness you keep sheathed within you like a blade."

Daemon sneered, brushing past her to rest his arms across the chair behind her. "You think me some kind of monster-"

"I don't know what to think of you," Rhaenyra admitted. "I don't know what you are, or who it is you serve-"

Daemon laughed then in disbelief. "Am I not on my way, even now, to Harrenhal to raise an army in your name, Rhaenyra?! Yours!"

Rhaenyra shook her head again, more lightly, and tears glittered in her eyes, her body turning to take some steps away from him. Her shoulders trembled with an inhale and she faced him, the tears threatening to fall from her lashes. "Do you..." She began softly, quietly. (Y/N) pressed his lips together and retrieved the pitcher and cup Daemon knocked from the ground, setting them on the table and meeting the prince's eyes. "...accept me as your queen and ruler? Or do you cling, even now, to what you think you lost?" 

Daemon's gaze slowly drew away from the lord to look at her. "What I think I lost?" He echoed just as softly.

"You did not lose it." Rhaenyra chuckled despite her quivering lips, her dress kicking up the dust along the floor when it dragged as she walked toward them. "You gave it away because you thought ever and only of your own glory, and not of my father in his grief who needed you!"

"Your father was a coward who knew I was the stronger son, that I was the leader of men, and he was afraid to be seen in my shadow. Do you believe he made you heir because of your great wisdom? Because of your virtue?" Rhaenyra's lips rolled into her mouth and her arms raised, smacking against her sides and body twisting away from them again. "Or did he merely use you as a tool to put me in my place because he was afraid of me?"

"You were disinherited because you could not help yourself, Daemon." (Y/N) leaned forward slightly, bringing the attention of the two Targaryens onto him. Daemon's eyes narrowed again and he straightened up, his grip on the chair turning his knuckles pure white. "Your inability to keep your mouth shut disinherited you, Daemon. What do you think would have happened if King Viserys allowed you time and time again to get away with insulting the King of Westeros? A brotherly spat behind doors is one thing but to mock his dead child and by extension his dead wife before the smallfolk? They would think him weak, Daemon. You gave him no choice and proceeded to prove it as the right decision by throwing a tantrum like a child!" 

"You-"

"And more so, it is not an achievement to believe your own kin was afraid of you. The downfall of any house, of any family, begins when kin turns against kin. It has been said time and time again, why do you think Rhaenyra desires peace? If dragons dance, dragons will fall, and with them their riders; who will that leave if not ashes and bones? Parentless children? The Realm ripped apart and struggling? By slaughtering a child, you are no better than Aemond."

Daemon stared at him unblinking. "It was a mistake." He hissed lowly. 

"A mistake is making the wrong move during training... spilling the blood of an innocent is a choice; one that I, and everyone else who has come to meet you, knows you capable of making. You... you relish in fear and bloodshed... and that is how you will die if you do not accept change within yourself. How can we keep you close when we cannot be sure what you will do next?" (Y/N) watched him, exhaustion clinging to his body and seeping into his voice. 

Daemon peeled himself away from the chair and stormed past Rhaenyra, slamming the door leading into their bedchambers shut. Rhaenyra staggered forward and slumped down in the chair, bracing her arms on the table and resting her head on her hands. She sniffled quietly and sighed shakily, her head lifting when (Y/N) moved closer and ran his fingertips through her hair. 

"Daemon is... complicated." (Y/N) reminded her softly, lowering himself down to sit beside her. "But he may yet prove himself in Harrenhal, Rhaenyra." 

"One can only dream of such a thing." Rhaenyra sighed, her hand finding his and bringing it to her lips so she could press a soft kiss to the back of his hand. Despite the conversation sucking much energy and emotion of out them, he gave her a gentle smile."But for our sake... I hope you are right."

The doors creaked when they opened and Baela strolled inside, clasping her hands before her and dipping her head. "You wish to see me, Your Grace, My Lord?" Baela questioned softly, stepping further into the room. The splatter of wine and a candle Daemon knocked over in his outburst drawing her attention to the floor momentarily. She grimaced. 

Rhaenyra rose, offering her an exhausted smile. "When morning comes, take Moondancer and keep a watch on King's Landing. I need to know which course they take next. We depend on you, Baela. Stay high and keep your distance." She ordered gently, her hand still clinging to (Y/N)'s. Baela straightened up at her words, a familiar twinkle passing over her eyes that brought a small smile to (Y/N)'s face. "We can afford no further mistakes."

"I will be vigilant." The young girl assured, glancing toward the floor again. Her lips formed a few words, seemingly attempting to find the right ones to say before she cleared her throat and tilted her head slightly. "My father?" She pushed gently, her brows knitting together slightly and a flicker of concern passing over her face.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips firmly together, her shoulders lowering with a heavy exhale. "He must follow his own path." She said simply, and Baela's face fell with a harsh swallow and nod. 

"Baela," (Y/N) called softly when she turned and began making her way toward the door again. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him questioningly. "You remind me of your mother more and more with each passing day. She'd be proud of you." Baela inhaled sharply, her eyes and features softening at his words. She gave him a thankful smile and turned away to leave the room. 

Once the door closed again, (Y/N) leaned back in the chair and gazed at their hands, watching the glimmer of her rings in the sunlight pouring through the window. "The woman he spoke of... Mysaria, the White Worm, was a stowaway onboard one of our ships. Ser Erryk claimed she wished to speak with me when she was taken but I allowed Daemon to see to her. She may have information for us, about King's Landing or possibly Daemon. But we mustn't hold her prisoner without knowing her intentions and what she may desire, Nyra." 

"I see." Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes downcast and tired. She brought a hand to her stomach, massaging her palm into the clothed flesh that still ached from the painful labor. "Let us speak to her, then, as soon as possible." 

(Y/N) studied her, taking in the watery glaze in her eyes and the tightness of her furrow. A semblance of guilt, perhaps? He couldn't be too sure. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze to draw her attention toward him and tilted his head questioningly. His wife exhaled shakily and released his hand, her back turned away from him and palms running over the skirt of her red dress. 

"I... I cannot help but be... relieved." Rhaenyra admitted quietly. "If Aegon were to die, the Greens would have turned to his child, to the boy. They would have rallied behind him, raised him up against me. My hand would have been forced, eventually, (Y/N). Just as it is now being forced."

"You cannot allow anyone else to hear those words, Rhaenyra. You have spoken of peace time and time again-"

"Yes, yes, I know," She exhaled shakily, her fingertips pushing back a strand of hair. "I... I do not want to be named a kinslayer. I do not wish to follow in the footsteps of Maegor the Cruel. Tales say he was cursed by the gods for slaying his nephew and bled on the throne for all to see. I cannot risk it. No one will follow a kinslaying Targaryen again."

(Y/N) set his hand upon her back and drew her into his chest, hooking his chin over her shoulder and feeling her sink back into him. Rhaenyra's eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting to lean her head against his. "It is admirable to search for peace when many believe bloodshed will solve all problems. A good ruler seeks what is best for their people. The Greens are led by those chasing after their own desires." He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her neck and leaned back. 

"Let us speak with this White Worm."

"You barely touched your supper, Rhaenyra," 

In all the haste and preparations, (Y/N) had nearly forgotten what the scent of an old book smelled like, eager to be read after many ages. The gallery itself was ancient and filled with books and scrolls primarily used in teachings by maesters and septas but now they found use in providing ancient advice to Rhaenyra. Her ancestors, she reminded him, were no strangers to war and infighting. She sought out their knowledge and strategies with no older relative apart from Rhaenys to provide it. 

"I was not hungry," Rhaenyra responded, clutching a book to her chest and approaching the table covered in scrolls and candles. She set it down and flipped it open, sorting through the pages written in Valyrian and running her fingertips over the illustrations of ancestors long dead. She pursed her lips when he stuck a plate of sweets in her face, blocking her vision with sights of honey-covered biscuits. He lifted his brows and she rolled her eyes, lips threatening to tug up into a smile. Plucking one sweet from the plate, she stuffed it in her mouth and pushed aside the plate to resume her reading. 

 The clanking of metal brought their attention to the entryway where Ser Steffon entered with a woman following. He dipped his head in greeting before motioning to the woman. "The Lady Mysaria, Your Grace, My Lord." (Y/N) had expected an older woman deep into her later years but Mysaria seemed youthful in appearance. She was skinny, her cheekbones prominent against her tan skin, and her long dark hair was messy and falling over her shoulders. A former lover of Daemon, no doubt, given her history in Flea Bottom.

"Thank you, Ser Steffon." (Y/N) dismissed the knight and leaned back against the table, folding his arms over his stomach as he took in the White Worm. She shifted from foot to foot, uncertainty in her posture, even when she bowed her head. She hardly seemed like much of a threat, though most succumbed to nerves when presented to a Targaryen, he supposed.

Taking a seat at the table, Rhaenyra rested her arms upon the table, her fingers lacing together as she raked her eyes over the woman. "You're aware of yesterday's events in King's Landing? Tell me what part you played in their unfolding."

Mysaria glanced between the two of them, her brows slowly furrowing. "I had nothing to do with it." She answered quietly, voice heavy with an accent known to those with YiTish heritage.

At her response, Rhaenyra scoffed. "I know you are entwined with the usurpers, that you aided them in denying me my birthright."

"I took profits from an inevitability," Mysaria admitted with a slow nod, her dark eyes jumping away from them and cracked lips pursing. "I regret it now."

"I'm sure you do," Rhaenyra muttered, staring at her for a moment longer before rising from the chair. "Who are you?"

"A prisoner," Mysaria answered, eyes jumping toward (Y/N) when Rhaenyra drew closer with a widened plea. "I gave Daemon two names. That is the extent of it. And I did not wish to do that much. He said it was the price of my freedom." She seemed to grow unsettled when Rhaenyra remained silent and began circling her, visibly swallowing. "Does.. he say otherwise?"

"Daemon has left, Lady Mysaria. For Harrenhal, we presume, and we cannot say when he will be back." (Y/N) piped up, watching her face fall for the briefest of moments before she mustered a blank face, her jaw clenching. Rhaenyra stopped at her side and stared at her, eyes soaking up her features and brows slightly raising. 

"You remember me now," Mysaria mused with a hint of amusement, subtle enough to almost dismiss as nothing. Her head tilted toward the silver-haired queen, shoulders sagging slightly in some relief.

"He said he would marry you," Rhaenyra recalled with semi-widened eyes. "He said you carried his child-"

"Not everyone found the jest funny." Mysaria looked away with a scoff, her eyes rolling at the mention of Daemon's past doings. Ah, (Y/N) remembered then, the old memory of Rhaenyra having to fly out to fetch the egg Daemon had taken that'd once belonged to little Baelon. There'd been mentions of a woman but he hadn't been all too interested in the details. "And now it seems he's done it again, made a promise and then slipped away." 

"Is that why you desired to speak to me when you were found hidden within one of the ships?" (Y/N) piped up with a question, his eyes following Rhaenyra as she returned to his side and leaned against him. 

Mysaria nodded. "I heard of how the King Consort was... kinder than his kin. I had hoped you would listen to my pleas for freedom, my desire to escape from Flea Bottom and any chains Daemon Targaryen could wrap around me. Perhaps I should have refused him, lied, and pretended to know little, but you know how he can be. I can do nothing now to reverse what he has done... I can only ask you to honor his promise in his absence." Mysaria pleaded softly, her voice soaked in genuine exhaustion. 

"You trade in the secrets of the Red Keep. Your web runs unseen through King's Landing." Rhaenyra frowned. "It would not serve me to set you free. At best, I lose an asset to my cause. At worse, you betray me in some foul way." 

"I have no interest in betraying you, Your Grace. I was brought to Westeros with nothing. I toiled in service, I stole. I sold my own body for coin or bread. And I listened. I collected confidences. I made myself valuable to powerful men. Bit by bit, I made my living. A house, a household, a home... then, they set it all aflame." 

"Who did?" 

Her eyes flickered toward (Y/N). "The Hightowers, I assume. The Hand.. did not like it when I showed my teeth. But I thank him for it. For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. Daemon.. Otto Hightower. Makes no difference. They will never accept me." She gave a dry chuckle. "I may as well have remained a whore." 

The Hightowers had always been a noble family, but all noble families kept their statuses through secrets and skeletons hidden within the foundations of their homes. Quiet orders, spies, assassins, betrayals, bloodshed. He knew well the capabilities of nobles; he'd grown up listening to the drunken tales shared with laughter and smirks that most would consider to be horrid. His father ordering a flame be put out for threatening to grow brighter than him? He believed it, wholeheartedly. 

"You've given us much to think about, Lady Mysaria." (Y/N) told her. "You will hear of our decision soon."

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo Satoru Masterlist

Multi-Chapter Stories

How you ended up as Gojo's fiancé in a fantasy tale masterlist Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

Opposites Attract Being the daughter of the Zenin clan made it your mission to defeat him. Him, Satoru Gojo, the honored one. Him, who makes your life a living hell. Him, who begins to get so much more than your curse...

One Shots

Touch her and you'll burn Your boyfriend Gojo goes berserk after finding out that Toji kidnapped you.

You saved me After Suguru tried to kill his former girlfriend, Satoru is there to cure your depression.

She is my weakness While you are on the brink of death through Suguru's hands, Satoru realizes just how much you really mean to him.

A word of power When his wife is sent to missions over and over until it visibly gets to her, Gojo decides to do something against it.

Lies in the dark You boyfriend Gojo cheated on you with another woman, leaving you heartbroken. Did he, though?

Keep doing it Satoru loves coming to your office everyday to finally win your heart. But it seems like you're more subborn than he thinks.

Having to share a bed with Satoru Gojo at a love hotel ... no words needed.

Golden girl Satoru Gojo really hates everything about you, especially the fact that you are stronger than him. Is it even possible to get along with you, let alone like you? (Spoiler: yes)

The heart wants what it wants 18+ The farewell of your boyfriend Suguru left a wound so deep that it seems like no one is able to fix it. Is the Satoru Gojo, who's secretly in love with you, able to pick your pieces back together?

Promises you can't keep When Sukuna realizes that you did not only break your oath to wait until he returns back to you but married Gojo Satoru after 1000 years of him waiting for you, he goes insane.

Don't touch her Gojo going berserk when you get injured by a curse

Gojo eavesdropping on his wife when she's talking about him While you kept your relationship with Satoru private, you always admire him when you meet at work. However, when your students ask you about your type in men, you can't help but describe the love of your life who hears every single word

Gojo recklessly flirting with Choso's little sister at Shibuya After being set in Shibuya to distract and exhaust none other than Satoru Gojo, Choso's little sister soon learns that the rumors about his charm are true.

Gojo teasing the heck out of you after realizing you get flustered by his eyes After working with smooth operator Gojo Satoru for years, he slowly but surely began to realize what your true weakness is: his bright blue orbs. And he wouldn't be Satoru Gojo if he wouldn't use that against you...

Gojo's and (y/n)'s son wanting to marry (y/n) no words needed

Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.

Gojo getting flustered by his sweaty wife and smacked at their training session Your beloved husband never fails to beat you without mercy when training together. But this time, something seems to catch his eye - your chance to finally hit him with your best shot.

Megumi accidentaly calling Gojo's wife "mum" no words needed

Gojo calling (y/n) a burden to keep her safe Despite the fact that Satoru Gojo was the one who lifted you up and gave you the confidence to go on your very first solo-mission, it was also him who shattered your confidence in order to keep you safe.

Gojo's wife showing her maniac side when it comes to protecting her precious students (Part 1) Despite Gojo's wife spoke vehemently against sending the first and second years on a way too difficult mission, the elders decided against her suggestion. Her calm and collected self changes drastically when she makes them regret their decicion...

Gojo's wife going berserk in order to protect her students (Part 2) Like your bad feeling already suggested, especially Toge's and Yuji's lives hang on a threat when their mission doesn't go as planned. Good for them that Gojo's wife and their teacher rushes to their side and shows everyone just how much she cares about them.

Gojo's girlfriend being there for Shoko when no one else is Shibuya brings even a strong and collected woman like Shoko down to her knees. Especially when you, the only person who seems to truly care about her, ask her about her well-being when your boyfriend just got sealed....

Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Gojo being your enemy (or lover?) Your family told you over and over, pounded it into your head since childhood: Satoru Gojo is your enemy, you are simply not allowed to feel anything but hatred towards the Gojo clan. But why do you find yourself lost in his arms each and every night, begging him to love you right?

Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...

Geto's little sister finding out her husband got sealed by her big brother You thought you lost him forever, your big brother. Until Shibuya brings you back to reality, until your beloved husband gets sealed by none other than your dead big brother. Until you show your enemy what you're made off...

Gojo's wife supposedly getting executed by kicking ass instead When Sibuya is finally over, you find yourself facing none other than the elders who want to execute you. Little do they know you are no one to be messed with, that even without your husband by your side, you are a true threat if you want to...

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Gojo's and (y/n)'s daughter buying a prom dress for her mum because she never had one When you told your little one about the fact that you never got to wear a prom dress, it was clear for your husband and daughter they needed to change that for your birthday.

(y/n) comforting her husband after he was forced to kill his best friend The man who seems goofy all day, who never takes anything serious breaks down in his wife's arms after he killed his best friend.

Satoru Gojo trying to make bun with his daughter's kinky hair It always looked so easy to him, the way you put your thick hair into the most breathtaking hairstyles. But when his daughter asked him to do a sleek bun on her, he was confronted with the stinging fact how difficult styling kinky hair can be. But that doesn't stop the dad of the year from learning... (POC reader!)

Reader going from being Gojo's lover to being his worst enemy You were always the perfect girlfriend for Satoru Gojo: innocent, quiet and weak. Until something inside you snapped. Until you decided you don't want to be weak anymore. Until you realized that Satoru Gojo isn't your lover, but your enemy...

Gojo's daughter insisting on him brushing her hair because he's so gentle You are pretty suprised when your daughter insists on your husband brushing her hair depite the fact that this is normally your job. Until you find out why...

Reader finishing Gojo's missions for him when he's sick and he finds out When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way…

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo when he stands up for you You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

I Love You When I Drink Champagne In the late hours, with champagne in hand, Gojo’s teasing fades into something deeper. Beneath city lights and whispered confessions, you begin to wonder if his midnight promises mean more than he’ll ever admit in daylight.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Daddy’s Princess

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x daughter!Princess!Reader

WORDS: 3,014.

SUMMARY: Based on this anonymous request…

WARNINGS: incest, mentions of death/war/suicide, mentions of depression, dark!Aegon ii, thigh riding, mentions of p in v sexual intercourse, cream pie, breeding kink, Daddy kink, praise kink, dom!Aegon ii, swearing, possessive!Aegon ii. mentions of pregnancy/birth.

A/N - posted this originally on my side kink blog [ @aegoniiwifey ], however since it’s not so explicitly kink-related and I’m also really proud of this fic, I thought I would post it here too ☺️ hope you all enjoy this naughty read!

credit to the original creators of the artworks/images.

The Targaryens were undoubtedly known for their “queer” customs, this had been widely yet sceptically recognised. Your own grandmother, the Dowager Queen, even uttered the words herself, despite having played a major role in marrying your late, beloved mother, Helaena to her elder brother, your father and the rightful King, Aegon the Second.

The Dance of the Dragons had begun to churn, when you were still nothing more than a child, however it progressed well into a few solid years throughout your adolescence, only for your father to come out victorious against his treacherous half-sister and her family of “bastards and traitors”, as he spat. The Gods had answered your endless prayers, regardless, rejoicing in success.

Once the Dance had reached its end, you had transformed into a young, modest woman, of the age two-and-twenty. Your handsome father, fifteen years your elder, conceived you during his own youth, robbing him of freedom and instilling responsibility instead, likewise with your dear mother. You had always been plagued with the pestering thought of feeling like a burden unto the young couple, as their firstborn, however your father reassured you otherwise, that you were nothing more than a blessing to him, otherwise.

Regardless, the fearsome battles determinedly fought throughout the decades, came at an inconceivable cost: the cost of the innocent, defenceless lives of your younger siblings who tragically perished in horrendous manners. Your late mother, Queen Heleana, wrought with mad grief and depression for the witness and loss of her babes, she could not bear the reality of life itself, taking her own life as a means to end her suffering.

Excluding yourself, you had no one else other than your grandmother, the Dowager Queen, who kept much to her seldom self these toiling days, isolated in her lonesome chambers, and your father...

Throughout the entirety of the ceaseless quarrels, your dear father had always ensured keeping a close eye and ear on you. Warmly reassuring your frightful self, that he would burn the world before any harm could be done unto you. He kept you close by him at all times, if he had not attended the battle himself on dragonback, Sunfyre close by your chambers, despite having a broken wing, with your own hatchling, Morghul, constantly beside you. It tore him to pieces when he made the harsh decision of having to entrust you to Larys and his unsavoury men, to sneak you off to Dragonstone where he would meet you eventually.

The most skilled guards posted ceaselessly hours on end, day and night, outside your chambers, not a single action went by without Aegon knowing, for all matters regarding your whereabouts went directly through him. During this time, you had solely instilled a perpetual trust in your father's decisions, that laid foundations in your bond with one another, which lingered even post succession of the war. It would be an understatement, that you had become heavily reliant on him, most of the time having been denied the autonomy to think and decide for yourself at such a young age, you grew to much prefer your father taking action, trusting him and only him with decisions regarding your own life. He was highly protective of you, in a way no lord nor knight of the realm could pledge and devote their lives to. You were his kin, his blood, his possession: you became his sole purpose and will to survive during the Dance.

There was, however, only one decision, you had ever made purely yourself, that would change the dynamic of the realm itself...

"Come, my sweet angel. Come to Daddy, and let me ease your mind..."

Despite the realm returning to some ounce of normalcy and peace, the nights you still endured adversity with. Troubling nightmares engulfed your slumber mind of the haunting memories of the Dance. Stirring you awake in a state of distress and panic, sweat beads drenched your forehead and mottled hair, your exposed, plump breasts accentuated in your silk, white nightgown, heaving with every haste and dense breath. Despite the adoring, relentless company of your dotting father by your side in bed, he immediately awoke in tune to your disruptive motions, persisting to remain awake, until he was assured you were comforted and sound of mind, lulling you himself back to sleep.

"Baby, sit on my lap. That's it- Another nightmare, my love?"

"Y-Yes, father."

"I know the feeling all to well, precious... Do you wish to speak about it?" Aegon huskily uttered, as his rough hands gently whisked away the odd strands of hair out of place, his other hand caressing soft circles at your lower back.

Since his heroic return from battle, despite the brutal injuries sustained, and since recovering, your father found himself constantly at your side, even in the late hours of the night. He dared not to trust many despite promisingly pledging fealty to their King, Aegon could only open up to you without the reason of duty, intimidation, or responsibility binding him to you. He wanted you. Since losing Helaena, despite never having been openly romantic with her, he had lost a companion, and had always considered you more of one than a daughter, as you grew wise with age.

Your strong-willed father had always been a man with brawn, unlike your late Uncles, Aemond and Daeron. Aegon was portly and having been raised by him, you grew familiar with his shameless, gluttonous habits. These habits exacerbated during his recuperation, as the maesters including yourself had taken to encouraging your father to eat copiously, often hand feeding him yourself with generous amounts of delicacies, rationalising that it was to regain pure sustenance.

You took pride in his recovery, aiding the maesters to heal your father back to good health, he openly stated that it was your devoted presence and love that made him whole once more. Deep in slumber with milk of the poppy to ease the pain, only he could hear your sweet, angelic voice in the blissful distance, yearning for him. Your gentle touch, as you religiously applied naturopathic ointments to his fresh, raw burns, that eventually healed his scars. He soaked in your warm presence thoroughly, mirroring your reliance on him, he too, became deeply infatuated with you.

Since becoming a mature woman, having grown into your Valyrian-esque features and physique, Aegon saw you in a fairly different light now. You noticed by the manner in which his violet, stern eyes lingered over your body for far longer than what was used to, even if it was for a few, fleeting seconds. You became a distraction in council meetings, as he vowed to have you attend, even if you were merely a cupbearer, standing aside though in proximity of him, a mere shadow: his unfazed attention oogled over you, his mind pondering over lustful, sinful thoughts, only to be beckon called back to reality by the repetitive call of his title, your Grace.

You had always admired your father, and believed there was no man that could exceed the expectations he set in stone… You were made for him, as he had sought to it himself. Blood of his blood, the Gods kept you both alive for a reason, you had discreetly believed.

"I do not wish to speak of it right now... I just need you to hold me, just for a little while," You weakly whispered with a shaky breath. Aegon, with a new found strength, a fuller and sturdy frame, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap, as he laid himself back to rest against the wooden bedframe.

"That's okay, my sweet girl. It will get easier, I promise..."

Adjusting yourself atop of Aegon's wide, meaty thigh, as you gripped and rested your head against his broad, fleshy shoulder, the friction stirring as your bare cunt grinds against his clothed thigh, slowly igniting a familiar, throbbing ache between your inner thighs.

"Hmm, how will it get easier, Daddy? Will you make it easier?" You utter, your lips lightly grazing over his plump cheek, gently guiding his head to turn in your direction: eyes inevitably meeting, your lips passionately crash against his. Aegon does not resist in the slightest, relishing in the kiss, as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, swallowing your taste, before his teeth teasingly bite and pull at your lower lip.

"I can distract my baby. Give her a pleasure no other man in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms can. I'll give my princess the finest treatment she deserves... But only if she listens and obeys her Daddy, like the good girl I know she is."

"Mhmm, yes, Daddy-" A helpless plea closely mistaken for a moan escaping your mouth, Aegon's pudgy hands, steer your legs to spread apart: you find that you can only spread wide enough to saddle one thick thigh at a time. Without needing to spell it out for you, you begin to sway your meek frame, rhythmically bucking your hips backwards and forwards, as Aegon harshly yanks your gown up, enough for your bare cunt to be completely exposed more thoughtfully, and in contact with his thigh.

"Deeper baby, you know you need to push yourself deeper or else I can barely feel you on top."

With haste obedience, you try to plunge your weight deeper against him, your arms embracing Aegon’s stocky frame tighter. His swollen, bloated gut pressing flatly against your own chest, earning a sensual growl from your father.

“Good girl… My good, little princess. Going to listen to every word Daddy says, so I can make her feel so much better.”

Your whimpering moans, and slow nods in agreement, as your head instinctively rocked back, eyes closing with pure pleasure, you could feel Aegon’s rough hands exploring your waistline, before one snaked behind your spine, keeping you steady by a careful grip on your neck. The other began to tug and pull at the silk strands of your nightgown, loosening the knot, to expose more of your obvious, ample cleavage.

“Look at how beautiful you have become. My little princess is not so little anymore, such a divine grace, a woman. No other beauty roams the Earth, as you do.”

The outstanding appraisal oozing breathlessly from Aegon's plump, blush lips, echo in your thoughtless mind with intense gratification. Treasuring each word, he worshipped you dearly, often placing you on a pedestal as great as the Iron Throne itself.

"Yes Daddy, t-tell me more."

Your helpless moans begin to sob from your mouth, filling the void of the vast room, other than the faint crackling of the dying fireplace. Your eager pace quickening, feeling the burning sensation erupt from the friction against your tender skin. Your body leaned forwards with Aegon's generous shove, as he in turn plunged his handsome face between your sensitive breasts. Feeling his lips trailing across your soft skin, hungrily suckling and lapping down to your nipple, as his other hand playfully massaged and kneaded at your other tit.

"Does princess want Daddy to fuck her stupid? Make her so full of me, she'll be dripping, begging for more, for nothing to be spared? All the princess needs to do is ask Daddy, like the polite girl she is."

"A-Aeg-"

"Words, princess. My cock isn't even inside you yet, and you're already hopeless. Didn't I teach you to use your words?"

"Hmm, Daddy, I-I need your cock, I-I need you inside of me, p-please."

Incoherent, you knew how weak and feeble you felt against your father, a formidable man, both inside and outside the confines of the bedroom.

"My beautiful baby, using her manners, makes her Daddy so, so proud. How did I get so lucky, being blessed by you?"

"D-Daddy blessed me."

Your hands clawed their way across his muscular shoulder blades, nails sharply dug into Aegon's bareback, as he often enjoyed sleeping shirtless, his natural body warmth radiating from his scarred body. Now one hand snaked its way into his short, unkempt hair, avidly tugging at his silver strands, begging for more.

"Easy baby, so needy for her Daddy, huh? Never change baby, Daddy's always going to take care of you okay? No one can take care of you, like I have..."

"N-No one. Daddy protects me from cruel monsters, a-and evil men. I-I could never leave, D-Daddy."

Groans and growls pooled from Aegon's lush mouth, as his tongue teasingly lapped and pulled at your perky nipple.

"My perfect princess. That's right, baby... Now, you ready to take Daddy's cock? I'm feeling pretty big, princess. You've been getting me as hard as Valyrian steel."

His hand found yours, firmly guiding it down to where his stiff, rigid cock throbbed densely with enthusiasm, beneath his pants, desperately aching to be taken.

"Y-Yes... Only I deserve Daddy's cock."

Rightfully earning a low, jovial chuckle from Aegon, scoring his mutual amusement and agreement, nodding to your proud notion.

"That's right baby... Only you."

Heaving himself and you atop with such vigour, you aided Aegon in pulling his pants down, as his cock sprung into full action. The sight made you shiver and whimper instantly, how its reddened tip flashed in the dim light, with pre cum already oozing generously from the raw tip. His length modest, its width had always been a wondrous vision. Regardless of the preparation or the amount of times you had taken Aegon before, you could never quite adjust to his glorious girth.

"Easy baby, that's my good girl. D-Don't be afraid, I got you. You can take it, I know you can. Making Daddy so, very proud."

Carefully positioning you atop, as you began to gently settle down, the sharp jolt of pain, as its tip etched between your silk folds, made it subtly easier for him to slip his full mass in.

"Wet for me already, my cock's practically drowning baby... So tight for me, my sweet princess. I can feel you swallowing up my fat cock."

Witlessly yet diligently, bobbing up and down on Aegon's lap, as your father vigorously thrusted his heavy mass upwards, craving to shove himself deeper into your slick folds.

"Good girl, Y/N. Daddy's going to fuck you so hard, fill you up to the fucking brim with my seed. Want to carry Daddy's babes, like a good princess? Make Daddy so proud, huh?"

"Y-Yes, I'll do w-whatever Daddy says, whatever D-Daddy wants. Anything to m-make you proud."

The rough texture of Aegon's battle-torn hands, cooed and caressed at your back, one hand gripping your neck once more, keeping you steadily mounted against his body. His other hand, continued to firmly squeeze at your tender breast, almost mimicking a wringing motion, as though anticipating for milk to ooze.

"Making me the proudest Daddy in the realm, princess. But you are far from being done with your royal duties... I'm going to fuck you day and night, till I see your belly swell greatly with child, with our child... Not till we fill this entire keep with the future leagues of the Targaryen dynasty. And if anyone dares to question our customs... They can play the fucking fool and answer to me."

Aegon, in a breathless, heated rut, finally reached his almighty gusto. His fresh, hot seed spilling up into you, as it oozed out of your tight crevices, clenched around his achingly, pulsating cock. In turn, your cum released in a liberating gesture, pouring over Aegon's rigid, thick cock.

"Hmm, Daddy spoils me s'good. Blessed I am th-that you want me to carry your heirs. Blessed I am to be carry on your legacy, Daddy."

Just as you were about to dismount from Aegon's sturdy lap, and tense cock, still stretching out inside of you, did you feel his strong embrace pulling you back down, keeping you situated over him as you were before.

"Daddy's not done yet, princess... I told you, I am fucking you endlessly till I see this belly-" His palm lightly grazing over your lower stomach in circles.

"-swell and these beautiful tits, leak with milk as I knead and suck. I will fuck you day and night, till you reek of my scent, exhausted of pleasure, and drenched in my cum and sweat. Princess belongs to Daddy and the whole realm shall know of it. I won the war, and I shall win the heart of the realm... That is you, my angel."

The remainder of the night, into the sleepless, bright dawn of the morrow, Aegon had kept his rigid cock buried deeply, and warmly planted inside of you. As the hours nudged on, you could feel yourself repeatedly peaking inside, as did your father, growing more and more numb to the cramping sensation. Your wincing and whimpers did not go ignorantly unnoticed, as Aegon would lull you, praising how proud he was of you for taking him so well. The only time he released was to clean up the god awful mess strewed across the sheets, and the minor bleeding pooling from your inner thighs.

In the morrow, he commanded the servants to fetch you a warm, floral scented bath, with the condition that he bathe you himself. Breakfast was brought to you directly, as you remained bed bound resting and recuperating.

"Now it's Daddy's turn to take care of his princess. Just as you took care of me during those dreadful months. My sweet, precious angel never left her Daddy's side, like an obedient, loyal girl. And Daddy will never leave you, okay."

Words had spread like wildfire, as your belly and tits had swollen healthily with a growing babe inside. The maesters to confirm and seal your fate, Aegon and yourself could not have been happier. Despite the relentless, whispering gossip alongside the timid side glances, no one dared to speak against Aegon's decision to marry you lawfully in tradition of your Valyrian customs, otherwise. Blessing the King a long-awaited, hearty male heir, the prophecy his late father often uttered about in his ill, deluded state: Aegon believed the Prince that was Promised, would emerge from his bloodline, thanks to you.

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you]- @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

credit for dividers - @/saradika

[saltandfire-blog]

All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

--

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

[florencemtrash]

Please remember me - Azriel x Reader

Ok but just imagine how heartbroken Az would be if he lost the woman he loved, but when the Cauldron brings her back, she doesn't have any memories of him.

It's after midnight and I'm feeling things...

___________________

You broke through the frigid darkness, something fragmenting beneath your fingers into a million sharp pieces as you wrenched your body up and gasped for breath.

Freezing. You were freezing to death in a pool of water. Or so you thought. Weak, uncooperative limbs flung over the lip of the pool, rough skin grabbing hold of you. You spilled out of the Cauldron into Azriel's waiting arms, and he wasted no time in burying his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent no longer tainted bitter and metallic by blood.

"Thank the gods. Y/n. I thought... I thought I lost you. Y/n. Y/n." He whispered your name over and over. A word more precious than the holiest of prayers.

You basked in the safety of his arms, the strength in the hands that gripped your hip and cradled the back of your head. That feeling of safety didn't go away when the stranger pulled back, molten hazel eyes staring into yours. He was the most beautiful male you'd ever seen. A face composed of graceful lines broken up by the tragic pain in his eyes, the tears that traced a path down his cheeks, the pained smile. He looked at you the way mates did in all the stories you'd read. Like holding you was the same as holding the world in his palms.

But when he kissed you, stealing the breath from your lungs like he was the one that had nearly drowned, you knew you needed to put a stop to this. One hand on his chest, the faintest hesitation on your lips, was all it took for him to pull away, eyes searching your body for any sign of hurt.

"Y/n? What is it? What's wrong, love?"

You hesitated. Your name was familiar on his lips, like it belonged there, like it belonged to him. But none of that changed the fact that you had no idea who this raven-haired male was.

"I-I don't..." You didn't want to say it. Didn't want to break the look of hope and relief on his face.

"Y/n?"

You finally noticed the small collection of fae behind him. A striking female with silver-tinted eyes beside a male as strong and wide as a mountain, Illyrian wings held tight against his spine like a notched arrow. A male and female, clearly mated, looking like figures carved from the fabric of the night sky. A female in red with golden-blond hair and doe-brown eyes. All of them weeping, or wiping away tears from red-rimmed eyes.

"Y/n? Please, look at me." Azriel begged, "Please." He whispered, feeling the tension in your body and the panic in your eyes, "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

When your eyes slid back to him, his heart plummeted in his chest, nose diving faster than he'd ever fallen in his life. He knew what words would tumble off your tongue before you said them. The confusion in your eyes spoke volumes.

"I don't... I don't know you."

The room stilled, voices trapped in everyone's throats along with their breath, and Azriel's hope shattered into a million pieces.

[cluelessteam]

Whispers Through Time: {~Whispers of Warning~}

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1376

Tag List: @snowtargaryen

Chapter 4 --- Chapter 5

The stillness of the Red Keep in the early morning was almost deceptive, as if the palace itself was holding its breath in anticipation. After narrowly avoiding Daemon's gaze the night before, you had returned to your chambers, trying to calm your racing mind. But no matter how hard you tried, the thought of how close you had come to being caught lingered in your thoughts.

You had been careful—perhaps not careful enough. It seemed inevitable that the danger would only grow the longer you continued this charade. But you had no other choice; Rhaenyra needed to know. The storm brewing within the kingdom wasn’t something you could stand by and watch unfold.

The second note had been delivered without issue, and although you had not yet seen Rhaenyra's reaction, the tension you had observed in her movements the day before told you everything. She had read it. She believed it. A slight relief washed over you, but it didn’t last long.

The warnings you had provided in your notes—minor events that, when pieced together, painted a dark and treacherous path—would soon start to play out. But the biggest danger, the real storm that would tear the kingdom apart, was still ahead. You could only hope Rhaenyra would heed your words before it was too late.

As you prepared for another day, you glanced at the parchment before you. The third note lay waiting, its message even more urgent than the last. This one, you knew, could not fall into the wrong hands. It was too specific. Too dangerous. If Daemon—or anyone else—got hold of it, your ruse would be exposed.

You spent most of the day carefully watching, waiting for the right moment. The castle was always buzzing with activity, and today was no different. Rhaenyra had been meeting with her councilors for hours, and Daemon had been conspicuously absent for much of the day, something that both relieved and unsettled you.

As you walked through the halls, your mind wandered to the contents of the note. It was a warning of a conversation you knew would soon take place—one that would push the already fragile relationships within the court to the breaking point. The details were vague enough not to raise too much suspicion but precise enough to send a clear message: a storm was coming, and only those who were prepared would survive it.

Late in the afternoon, you finally spotted Rhaenyra, standing alone on a balcony overlooking the Blackwater Bay. Her figure was tense, her expression hard as she gazed out at the horizon. You could see the weight of the world pressing down on her, her mind no doubt filled with thoughts of her uncertain future.

It was the perfect moment.

Quietly, you approached the alcove near her chambers, the same place you had left the previous notes. Your hand trembled slightly as you placed the folded parchment in the hollow behind the wall, making sure it was well hidden but easy enough for Rhaenyra to find if she looked carefully.

Just as you were about to leave, footsteps echoed behind you. You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. Slowly, you turned, half-expecting to see Daemon’s shadowy figure emerging from the darkness.

But it wasn’t Daemon.

It was Ser Harwin Strong.

The tall, broad-shouldered knight was making his way down the corridor, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if on guard. You quickly lowered your gaze and moved aside, pretending to busy yourself with some imaginary task. Your mind raced, wondering if he had seen anything.

“Good day,” he greeted as he passed, his voice polite but his tone indifferent.

You nodded and mumbled a quick response, keeping your head down until he was out of sight. As soon as you were sure he was gone, you let out a breath of relief. But the danger hadn’t passed. Harwin Strong was a loyal protector of Rhaenyra, and though his demeanor was kind, you knew he wasn’t to be underestimated. If anyone was capable of figuring out your intentions, it would be him.

You had to be more careful.

Later that night, as you moved through the Keep on yet another task, you saw a familiar figure at the end of the hall. Rhaenyra was walking, her face pensive and her steps slow. Your heart raced as you realized she must have found the latest note. From the way her brows were furrowed, you could tell she was deep in thought, grappling with the weight of your warnings.

She turned a corner, disappearing from sight, but not before you saw her glance back once—just once—as if expecting someone to be watching her. But there was no suspicion in her eyes, only a growing sense of realization.

Your messages were reaching her.

The following days were tense. Daemon had returned to the Keep, his presence as sharp and unsettling as ever. You could feel his eyes on you more than once, though he never approached or questioned you directly. It was as if he were waiting for you to slip up, to make one wrong move that would confirm his suspicions. You went about your tasks as normal, avoiding his gaze whenever possible.

But it wasn’t Daemon’s scrutiny that kept you awake at night.

It was Rhaenyra.

You could sense her growing trust in you, even though she didn’t know who you were. The notes had been a lifeline for her—an anonymous ally in a world filled with enemies. Each day, she seemed more confident, more assured in her actions, and you knew your warnings were playing a role in that. But with trust came danger.

The closer she came to believing your words, the more precarious your position became. You had gained her trust, but trust was fragile, and you were walking a tightrope between helping her and exposing yourself.

One evening, as you prepared to write yet another note, there was a knock at your door. Your heart skipped a beat as you opened it to find one of Rhaenyra’s attendants standing there.

“The princess requests your presence,” she said simply, her expression unreadable.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. Had something gone wrong? Had Rhaenyra discovered something that pointed to you? With the notes fresh in your mind, every possibility raced through your head as you followed the attendant through the corridors of the Keep.

When you reached Rhaenyra’s chambers, she was seated at a large oak table, her back to the door, her long, silver hair cascading over her shoulders. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the stone walls.

“Leave us,” she said softly, and the attendant quickly departed, leaving you alone with the princess.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You stood near the door, waiting for her to address you. Finally, Rhaenyra turned in her chair, her eyes locking onto yours. There was something different about her gaze—a sharpness, a clarity that hadn’t been there before.

“You’ve been a great help since your arrival,” she said, her voice steady but laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “The maesters speak highly of you.”

“I only wish to be of service, princess,” you replied carefully.

She studied you for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. Then, she stood and walked toward you, her steps slow and deliberate.

“There are whispers in the court,” she said, stopping just a few feet away. “Whispers of danger, of betrayal. But I have found myself… well-prepared for certain things.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Was she testing you? Did she suspect that you were the source of those warnings?

“I’m grateful that you have been kept safe, my princess,” you said, bowing your head slightly to hide the fear in your eyes.

Rhaenyra’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Safe. Yes.” She paused, her gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before turning away. “That will be all.”

You quickly bowed and left the room, your heart still racing. Rhaenyra hadn’t confronted you, but her words had left you shaken. She knew something—perhaps not everything, but enough to suspect that someone was helping her from the shadows.

The storm was closer than ever.

[dangermousie]

Top Dozen cdramas - 2024

This can obviously change but nothing truly exciting looks to air for the rest of the year so that's unlikely. My Top Dozen for the year are likely be set in stone.

It's a very idiosyncratic list which has two mini dramas, three moderns (!!! for me that's insane) and a lot of vibes dramas.

12 Hard to Find - all vibes all the times. A tragic romance that feels like a Gothic fairytale, this is what minidramas could be.

11 Love In the Desert - out of all the dramas on this list, this is the one that screams most "a good time." It's a romance and visual feast and webnovel madness and sexy good time and it made me cry.

10 Fortune Writer - a mini that is so smart and meta and fun about narratives and fate and villainy and fighting the story itself. So clever.

9 Derailment - a puzzle and a love story, telling most anything about it would be a spoiler but this story about a rich girl from 2025 who seemingly wakes up in a parallel universe in 2023 in body of a poor doppelganger, and the young man who was in love with the original has everything including addressing what it must feel to people to have a transmigrator possess a loved one.

8 Tender Light - the ending was just - it's the reason it's not n1. But the rest of this drama about an abused wife and an idealistic young man refusing to bow to societal pressure was just exquisite. It addresses morality and loneliness and complicity and sacrifice. Just incredible. Poetry in motion.

7 Will Love In Spring - a modern romance cdrama? In my list? Is the world ending? But seriously, this is such a gorgeous, realistic yet intense exploration of love and loss and trauma. It made me utterly reevaluate Li Xian to boot.

6 Snowfall - this is such a fever dream of a mood piece of a vampire romance, with seriously BDSM and gay vibes, as well as utterly incredible canon age gap ride or die OTP with Ouyang Nana bothering to act for the first time in her life and Vengo Gao embodying a gentleman vampire to perfection. Li Muge remains one of my favorite directors for a reason.

5 Heroes - the story of three very different men all consigned to the dustheap of history by changing times (the best swordsman in the era of guns, a former imperial guard of a regime about to be overthrown, a constable obedient to obsolete code who studied for imperial exams which got abolished) as the Qing dynasty is about to fall, this has fights, humor, three (!) separate love stories, philosophy and utter and complete heartbreak. The performances, the ideas, the filming and the writing all combine to make a bleak masterpiece with a 99% death rate (I am not kidding, only tertiaries make it out.) If I were in charge, it would get all the awards.

4 The Legend of Shen Li - the one truly mainstream idol costume hit on the list. It's an adult, passionate xianxia that reunites Zhao Liying and Lin Gengxin as deities and battle powerhouses in a love story that is so full of yearning and passion and intensity I feel like peeking through my fingers. This is everything xianxia romance tries to be and almost never is. This just might be my favorite xianxia of all time, tbh.

3 Eternal Brotherhood - a dark horse whose existence I didn't even know about before it aired. Visually stunning despite its tiny budget, this narrative about three sworn brothers in a kingdom and world in crisis, is pitch perfect in its humor, its intensity, its tragedy and its themes (also THREE!!!! amazing love stories despite not being a romance-centric show.) The battles, the friendships, the traumas, the darkness at the heart of it all!

2 Fangs of Fortune - the sole drama that can rival JoL2 for me (only caveat is it's still airing), this is visually the most jaw dropping drama I've ever seen, but it's also high fantasy the way it should be - making me feel so immersed that stopping feels like coming up from a deep dive or waking up from a hypervivid dream. It has impeccable performances (many from actors who I don't normally even like), and its plot and relationships and themes - fate and sacrifice and choice and found family bonds and trauma and so many other things - make it feel as if it was made just for me.

1 Joy of Life 2 - THE drama of 2024 for me. It's somehow better than the incredible first installment. It's funny, it's heartbreaking, it has insane performances, a narrative that hits all my personally favorite themes (a person trying to remain human in an inhuman world, righteousness not being weak), a large cast of fascinating characters who feel like they live in front of me (there are no throwaway roles in this), my favorite ship of the year (though it's not even a ship-centric show) and above all, Zhang Ruoyun's live wire of a performance as Fan Xian, arguably my favorite cdrama character of all time. It should not work yet it does. Brilliantly.