#uncle/neice bonding

[hopefulidiocy]

Hi can I request a modern Daemon x Neice reader? I'm thinking Mafia vibes, maybe she wasn't aloud to leave the house but she snuck out to the club with friends and Daemon drags her back home.

I'm thinling smut, probably rough lol.

Totally get if you aren't down with this idea just had this idea for a while and need it out lol.

Killer Instinct

Modern!Daemon x Fem!Reader

Authors Note: thanks for suggesting this :) I changed the familial bond between them. They are not niece and uncle, instead just daughter of Mafia Boss and Right Hand Man. Thanks <3 hope you enjoy.

Warnings: bj, p in v, rough, hair grabbing, spanking, masturbation etc

MINORS DNI

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

~

A pendulum swings in your face as you slouch in the chair, bored to tears with the droning on around you, your mother sitting straight and “proper” as she looks upon her husband with bored, soulless eyes. The men around you are discussing their plans with the opposing gang, it would be funny - seeing grown men plot to kill or maim or simply to prank - if they didn’t actually go through with it. One time you saw your father standing over the body of Julius Justice, a man who was your Godfather and looked after you more than once in your childhood. Julius had betrayed my father in more ways than one, he had been a double agent for both the Blacks and the Greens; it turned out he had a wife, a woman named Alicent, whom I had no idea existed, who was the mother of Green Leader Aegon. Slimy little man with short man syndrome.

Father was callous and cruel, some thought the same about you since you rarely smiled or laughed; the last time you did was probably when your niece, Clarissa, was born even thought tensions run thick with your sister, Marie. There were eight of you in total, eight lovely children for the cold Victor Targaryen. The order went like this: Giovanni, 26 years old and acts as a type of regent whenever your father is indisposed; Hades, 25 years old and tried to usurp his own father which sent him to the chopping block, you wince every time his name is mentioned; Victoria, 23 years old and named after your mother, she is timid and incredibly sweet which is her downfall; Marie, 21 years old and recently married to some soldier whom you don’t know; you, 19 years old and basically your father with longer hair; Reginald, 17 years old and dead; Tomosina, 14 years old and just started her monthlies and the baby cherub of the family, Georgina, 12 years old who currently sits next to you, jaw hanging as if this was the first time she heard your father talk about violence and murder.

“So that settles it.” Father slammed his hands at the side of his table, everyone jumped excluding you.

“What have we settled?” You asked, playing with the pendulum in your fingers.

“Alicent Hightower must die.” Your mother repeated, her mouth slightly gaping at the mere thought. You shrugged, slumping back in your chair whilst your sister turned to whisper.

“You should sit like a proper lady.” You scoff and roll your eyes just as the grand doors open to the office.

Strolling in, head to toe in clinking armour, was Daemon Targaryen; named so because of his long endured loyalty to your father that he had been taken in as one of the family. Something Julius never got to see. As usual, his shit eating smirk presents on his face as he grabs a hessian bag that was swinging from his shoulder and plants it on the end of the table.

“A gift.” He said, smirking still and amusement bouncing around in his tone. You perk up, sitting forward with your elbows propping you up as you watched Daemon rip the bag and reveal a severed head. You gasp, despite yourself.

“Scared, little miss?” Daemon asked, turning his attention to you. His heated stare suddenly made you blush, which you hated, and you sat back, trying to stop the heat that was spreading to your abdomen, almost grinding against the chair to stop it.

“Who is that?” Your mother asked, scared.

“Otto Hightower. I beheaded him. Just as you asked, sir.” He then bowed to your father, who stands, clapping him as if he received an Oscar.

“Bravo, Daemon! Bravo!” He came around the table, clapping him on the back before picking up Otto’s head by his lacking hair. He laughed before poking him in his eyes. Daemon chuckled along with him.

“I must put him with all the trophies.” He hugged it to his chest. “I might have him suck my cock, we all know what a cock sucker he was.” That earned a laugh from the men, the women however just stared as your father began acting out oral.

~

The dummy full of sand is before you, your armour clinking in the moonlighted training grounds; you only came here after everyone went to bed, this was the only time you could practise so your father would allow you to join the soldiering side. You raise your sword high above your head, your elbow not allowing the weight to tumble as you swung your body around in intricate shapes before stabbing him just off centre. You groan, yanking the sword out of the sand, hitting it a few times on the ground before trying again, managing to attack his groin.

“You need to centre yourself, my lady.” A seductive voice came from behind you, and instinctively you knew it was Daemon. As you turned, he made his way in long strides towards you, you hitched your breath as his chest almost collided with your face.

“What are you doing here?” You step back, gulping enough night air so you wouldn’t end up on your knees in front of him.

That wouldn’t be so bad…

“Watching you, little miss.” He smirked.

“Ugh, don’t call me that, I’m 19.” You sheathed your sword, sighing. “And I know I’m shit at it.”

“Never said you were.”

“You were implying.”

“No I wasn’t.” He shrugged.

He cocks his head slightly as his dark eyes roam your face, the sides of his lips curled into a smirk.

“Does daddy know you’re out here?” He mockingly pouts.

“No. He would kill me.”

“I’m a loyalist, it would be against his honour if I didn’t turn you in now.” He takes another step towards you, the heat returning in your abdomen.

“But you won’t.” You said, pressing your stomach slightly to aid the pain from travelling any further. He chuckles, his eyes peering down your armour to your legs before his index finger curled flat underneath your chin, propping you so you look straight at him.

“Do I make you nervous?” He asks, seduction dripping from his voice.

“No.” You shake your head.

“I beg to differ.” His thumb then travelled up your chin to your bottom lip, grazing it softly with the pad of his thumb. “I see the way you look at me.” You hoped he hadn’t because every time you did you had to squeeze your legs shut. His thumb then reached the crease between your bottom lip and top lip before placing it in your mouth. Instantly, you sucked onto it, relishing in the pleasure of getting to taste at least some of him. Your tongue lapped around it, your lips pouting and plump as he licks his own lips.

“Such pretty lips.” He whispers, his other hand roaming to your perfect braid before yanking down on it and hard. You winced at first but enjoying the pain of his hand you moaned softly, muffled by his thumb. “I wonder.” He hummed as his lips met your neck, sending butterfly kisses up to your jawline; his warm breath tickling you. “I wonder what you do to yourself when you think about me in your dark room.” He starts licking your jawline, sending you into a mess, trying to find where his zipper is. “Do you moan my name?” You want to scream yes, yes, yes! But find yourself unable to because you find his zipper, pulling it down with all your might to find his hard cock springing from it. He was wearing no underwear.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, thick and veiny to the point you couldn’t wrap around it completely. His eyes flicker as you begin to pump him up and down, still sucking hard on his thumb.

“Get on your knees.” He whispers and you waste no time in perching before him, coming face to face with his cock, sprightly and erect, his glistening pink tip looking beautiful in the moonlight as your pretty lips wrapped around the head. He tastes fucking beautiful. You always knew he did, you could tell by the way he dressed himself that he was fucking perfect to taste. Your tongue wets the sensitive area of his tip, which sends him whispering moans into the night air as his hand grips onto the back of your head, forcing you deeper and deeper onto him. Eventually his tip hits the back of your throat, gagging so hard your eyes water but you don’t care.

“Fuck, I love that sound.” He hit against the back of your throat again, arching his back as your head bobbed up and down his shaft. Revelling in the trembling his thighs were giving you, you decide to include his balls as well. You remove yourself from his thick cock and land your round lips onto his balls, simultaneously pumping him up and down.

“That slutty mouth.” He groans, louder than before and you know just by the way his mouth gapes that he is reaching his end. And you want him to paint you.

You focus in on his cock, still cupping his balls with your cold hand as you stroke his shaft and suck on it like a dehydrated woman finding water in the Sahara after forty days. He arches back and shoots his load, it leaks down your throat, dripping with perfection, the saltiness and the sweetness coating you as you swallow.

“Show me you swallowed all of it.” You look up at him with seductive eyes and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue. “Dirty whore.” He smirks, pulling up his trousers.

“Are you not going to get me off?” You ask, breathless.

“Go to bed.” He chuckles, pinching your chin before sauntering away leaving you on your knees and begging to be fucked.

Later, when you were alone in the shadows of your room, you placed a pillow in between your legs, the hardest part of it against your clit and your body moved fluidly as you rid the dull ache between your legs. You held onto the bed frame as your hips worked at a delicious speed, allowing the ache to turn into a blossoming sensation as you moaned out for Daemon: thinking about his cock spreading you open. You hope he fucks rough, because you need ragging about.

~

A few mornings later, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with Tomosina and Georgia whilst your mother runs about the kitchen with a whisk in tow. You lean over your breakfast, not touching it but instead reaching for your tea; a morning is not a morning without a herbal remedy. You are nervous, your heart thumping against your chest as you blow the steam rising out of the cup, you watch your mother closely… hoping that she is in a good mood. Because you want to go out for the night.

“Where’s that fucking bowl?” She grunts, kneeling down to rummage through the cupboards.

“What are you making a cake for anyway?” Tomosina asks, her mouth full of toast.

“To celebrate Daemon, he’s made three assassinations just this week. That’s the most we’ve ever had.” You raise your eyebrows.

“That’s the most we’ve ever had?” You repeat, your mother blows her hair out of her eyes as she stands.

“Yes, dear. It is. It doesn’t sound like a lot but a lot of thought goes into these things.” She’s gone to the pantry now, hoping it appears out of thin air.

Ever since you gave Daemon a blow job you haven’t stopped thinking about it, it was the only thing to relive in your mind when you went to sleep. The way his face drooped with pleasure, his thighs twitching under your touch, you longed to be touched the way you touched him and you just knew he would send you to hell and back with his long fingers. You grip your chair as you think about what he could do to you and how you would let him have his way. He could do anything and you’ll happily be his servant. The thoughts ceased when your mother came back, beaming with her mixing bowl.

“Found it!” She smiles, plopping it down on the table.

“Mother…” you begin, picking up your fork and scooping up some eggs.

“Yep?” She smiles brightly this time, like seeing you is her favourite thing in the world.

“My favourite band are coming to play… and i want to go see them.” It came out way too fast. Your mother’s eyes faltered slightly, she slumped into herself.

“Y/N… you know I can’t let you do that.” She sighs.

“Mum, listen. I’ll take a bodyguard with me. They won’t want to find me or kill me anyway, I’m one of the youngest children and I’m also a girl, they won’t want me.”

“I can’t even chance it. You know your father would go mad as well? I can’t allow that, I’m sorry, darling.” And that was the end of that.

~

Despite what mother said in the morning, you are currently getting dressed in the best outfit you can find. Ripped faux leather pants that stick to you like glue and perfectly rounded your ass and a lace bralette that cupped your tits stunningly. You admire yourself in the mirror before being taken over by an image of Daemon, coming in behind you and taking your tits into his hands. You lean against him as he reaches underneath your bra, toying with your nipples as you moan out. You know this is just a daydream, as you’re the one toying with yourself and your hand reaching down to your clit, working yourself to satisfaction as you imagine Daemon playing with you, whispering you disgustingly beautiful words as you work against his palm. You wish you could see his face, how wet you were for him. God. How he would manhandle you.

The only light that filled the dark streets was the moonlight as you flit towards the dark alleyway where the band is playing. You could hear the beat of the bass, how it was shaking the ground and your body ignited with excitement. Breaking the rules has to be completed once in a while and you absolutely love the feeling of disobeying. Whilst waiting in the line behind a group of young girls, you are tapped on the shoulder by a masked man. Instantly, you gasp as the large hand grabs you.

“Excuse me!” You hiss, shaking off his grasp. But he quickly returns.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You notice the raspy sound of Daemon, you instantly turn around and suddenly face to face with him, a mask covering most of his features but you know just by his voice and the way his eyes slightly crease that it is the man you gave a blowjob to.

“Fuck off, Daemon.” You whisper, pushing his shoulders but he doesn’t move.

“You’re coming with me.” He grabs your elbow and basically drags you out of the queue, people start staring at you and some are even laughing, your face heats with humiliation.

“People are staring at me.” You hiss as he drags you up the cobbled street, out of the alleyway.

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t even be here.” He spits as he basically throws you down another dark, desolate alleyway. You stop and come face to face with him, your body suddenly heating up as his strong hand removes the mask from his face. He looks even handsomer under the moonlight, his jaw hard and his eyes piercing as he slowly looks up and down your elegant body.

“Why are you really here, Daemon?” You cross your arms, to seduce. Slowly, his fingers trace your arm, his fingers finding the crux of your elbow and pulling it away harshly.

“Why are you dressed like a whore? Like a common street slut.” He smirks to himself. Your body ignites as he slowly pulls your bra down, collecting at your stomach and the night air instantly pinches at your nipples like they’re ready for Daemon. You are ready your Daemon. Your pants grow wet as you watch the tip of his tongue travel across his top lip, harshly he slaps them before pulling you into his body. You press yourself against his hard chest, even harder than you could imagine, your arms are trapped but you don’t care because his lips smash against yours. The kiss is hard, passionate and almost hateful and his body holds you tightly as he moves you towards the cold stone wall behind you, his hands wrapped around your hair and his other hand finding the source of your heartbeat. His fingers are cold, ice cold, as he circles your bud, it aches against him, pulsing and shaking as you moan into his mouth. It’s so dirty to be like this just yards away from a crowd. You love it, you love the way he bites down on your neck as three fingers squeeze themselves inside of you. He pumps hard, massaging against your g spot as your legs tremble against his icy fingers.

“Moan louder for me. Let them hear why i dragged you away.” You do as he says, his voice laced with venom as you throw the crown of your head against the stone wall, moaning higher towards the Gods. His fingers play you like a violin, your sounds beautiful in the night air and you relish in that aching feeling you’ve known for too long. You worry that after this you have to have him in your bed every night.

“Daemon.” You moan, having to take a breath before speaking.

“Hmm?” He hums low against your ear, his fingers reaching a high you’ve never experienced before, his nose against your jawline.

“What is it?” He whispers, his thumb now tagging against your clit, you whimper as he speeds his tempo.

“Fuck me.” You whisper, not being able to talk normally. He chuckles darkly against your neck as his hand suddenly removes itself from inside of you. You ache for the warmth again. He leans back, tugging down your trousers, getting on his knees.

“What are you doing?” You look at him in bewilderment, but he simply smiles at you like butter wouldn’t melt. He responds by burying his face between your legs, his tongue lapping up your folds, you reach for his hair, holding it tightly as you moan, moaning for him and for his God given tongue. His mouth works at an incoherent speed, you become a mess of nerves as your legs shake, squeezing his head between your thighs as he works you like an instrument.

“Turn around.” He wipes his mouth, grabbing your shoulder and shoving you towards the cold, cold stone that makes your toes curl. He bucks your hips towards him, your breasts flat against the wall as reaches down and inserts two fingers inside of you, making you whine like a cat, he preps himself behind you. Gently almost a complete contrast to the way he was gripping onto your hair, his fingers so gentle on your hip bone as he inserted himself. It is a tighter fit than you expected, his cock slowly travelled through you to the spot that no one has ever reached before, your back arches as your gspot tingles under his tip as it grazes and softly prods at it.

“Just relax for me.” He whispers as he begins to thrust deeply into you, making you whine, trying to find something to hold onto but there’s nothing on the wall that will keep you up. His hands roam your body, delicately like you’re a work of art as he speeds himself up at a magical speed that only wizards can achieve. He pulls in and out harshly, letting the cold air squeeze into you as he snaps his hips back to your gspot, a delicious feeling that has your knees knocking together. Your cheek is pressed against the wall, hard and your head keeps knocking forward every time he buries himself deep inside you, he holds himself there for a moment, swirling his hips so your gspot gets all the pleasure for this moment. You begin to heat up, hotter than you’ve ever felt before and certainly hotter than the cold air that surrounded you as he sped up, his hips snapping into you ass and your legs begin to tremble. A feeling you haven’t felt by another man’s touch for a long, long time. He holds you in place, not letting you move as he aids you to ride out the hard orgasm, you whine and shriek into the night air, blood rushing to your head as you let loose all over him and your inner thighs. He grunts behind you, fucking you harder as he begins to sloppily paint your walls. Leaving you both breathless as he slowly retreats him the heat of your body, he gives you ass one last slap.

“That’ll teach you to never disobey.” He chuckles darkly, landing a kiss on your shoulder blade.

“Quite the contrary, I want to disobey if this is the punishment I get.”

[fluff-n-cookies]

mcdonalds + Platonic (soft) yandere All might = free Happy meals.

that's my equation sir.

know the reason I think this is because All might legit has nothing better to do, and since he spend like 5-15 years in america is has been ENGRAVED into his mind, he's still getting PTSD war flash backs from the first time he went through a mcdonalds drive through.

so now he's getting his neice of whom he loves ever so dearly happy meals cuz' he thinks it's an uncle neice bonding experience.

(it's not your room is covered in happy meals and dad! nighteye is NOT happy about it.)

[irisposts]

Fire and Blood (Embers of us* Special Chapter)

summary l you claim a dragon and confront your uncle. *takes place after ‘embers of us’

paring: very brief aemond x neice!reader

note: dividers by (@zaldritzosrose ) :)

not edited.

Things are dire.

And the greatest threat to your mother’s throne is your uncle.

Aemond.

His tenacity, his unyielding strength, and his relentless loyalty to his side of the bloodline has made him your most dangerous adversary.

His dragon, Vhagar, is a weapon few could hope to match. And your mother— the queen, needs more dragonriders. But there is one problem that sets you apart from your family: you’ve never ridden a dragon.

Like your uncle Aemond, you have long been teased for this. For years, the absence of a bond with a dragon was a source of mockery—something that stung in silence. Something you found comfort in with your uncle. But now, with a war at hand it is no longer a laughing matter. Your queen needs you.

But despite several harrowing attempts to claim one, you still remain dragon-less…at a point, it begins to feel futile.

You sit in the strategy chamber of Dragonstone,its ancient carved table etched with the map of Westeros. The dim candlelight underneath casts flickering shadows over the carved sigils of houses. You trace the lines of it with your eyes—north, south, the rivers, and mountains.

“At least the child is well-versed in swordsmanship,” Lord Corlys Velaryon comments, his voice steady.

Rhaenyra turns her head to him, her gaze silencing him before he can say more.

His lips press together in regret. “Perhaps I misspoke?”

You chew your lip, frustration rising within you. “My sword means nothing in this war if I cannot bring fire to my uncles and their army.” You rest your hands along the table. “What does it mean to be Targaryen if I fight on the ground and not in the skies?”

“You’re being cruel to yourself.” Baela says from across the table. Her voice is sincere, her eyes filled with compassion.

Baela’s kindness is something you’ve always admired, but it offers little comfort now.

But you can’t shake the feeling that claiming a dragon is no longer a distant dream—it’s now a necessity, and time is running out.

You’ve walked the grounds outside of Dragonstone for hours.

It had taken some effort to sneak past the guards, but you managed. You needed space, the pressure was beginning to crush you thin. Your mother’s expectations, the impending war, the sense that something terrible was looming just over the horizon.

Your feet lead you toward the cliffs beyond the castle. The air is cool, the night sky blanketed with stars. You glance toward the distant mountains, their silhouettes just visible against the dark sky. You let out a puff air and sigh. And then, something catches your eye.

A shadow— a speck in the distance, growing larger with every passing second.

You squint. Your heart quickens as you rub at your eyes.

A dragon.

As the creature draws nearer, panic rises within you. It’s heading straight for you, its wings beating the air with terrifying force. You turn and run, your feet pounding the earth as fast as they can carry you.

The sound of heavy wings flaps louder behind you, accompanied by the dragon’s screech.

A blast of fire scorches the ground beside you, and you bank to the left just in time to avoid its flames. The scent of smoke fills your lungs as you sprint, your chest burning with the effort. But you can’t outrun it.

The dragon barrels its head into your back, sending you sprawling forward onto the ground. You feel the earth slam against your face, grass and dirt scratching at your cheeks and clinging to your lashes. You roll onto your back just in time to see the massive creature descending upon you.

Its talons encircle you, its black-scaled legs pinning you to the ground. The beast hovers over you, its body vast and dark, like an endless shadow. Its nostrils flare as it sniffs at your face, its hot breath washing over you. It bares its teeth, a low growl rumbling from its throat. You brace yourself as it screeches, the deafening sound reverberating through your body.

When the sound finally fades, you dare to look up at the creature. Its talons dig deeper into the ground around you, its eyes glowing with a fierce intelligence. You can see the orange hue of fire gathering in its throat.

This is the end, you think. And you haven’t even had the chance to fight for your queen. It’s tragic and ultimately pathetic. You dreamed of an honorable death—in battle on dragon back. Much like your great aunt.

Something inside you shifts. Instead of surrendering to fear, rage boils within you. You rise up as much as you can, staring directly into the dragon’s eyes, and scream—not out of fear, but fury.

The scream is raw and guttural. Filled with ureteral frustration and defiance. And for a moment, it feels as though the dragon is screaming with you. Both of you locked in a primal exchange.

And then, the dragon stills. And your chest heaves, catching your breath.

There’s a long pause. You and the dragon stare at one another, breathing heavily, an awkward tension hanging in the air. Your heart pounds as you size each other up, the beast’s eyes narrowing as if considering what to do with you.

Slowly, you stand, your legs shaky beneath you. You swipe the dirt from your clothes, your eyes never leaving the dragon’s. There is still fire in its gaze, but it doesn’t strike.

“Ao henujagon issa,” You say, your voice rough with exhaustion. You nearly killed me.

The dragon growls, a deep, guttural sound that rumbles through the earth. It snorts, nudging your stomach with its massive head.

You push back instinctively, your hand pressing against its snout. The dragon snaps in retaliation, its teeth flashing in the moonlight, but you hold your ground, your eyes never leaving it. “Lykirī,” you command, your voice taut. Calm.

The dragon’s eyes narrow, but it listens. Slowly, the tension drains from its massive form, and it lowers its head enough for you to touch it.

Tentatively, you raise your hand and place it on its snout, feeling the heat radiating through the rough black scales. The connection is fragile but present. There’s an understanding between you now, one built on fire and blood.

You now realize what dragon you face—The Cannibal, the wildest, most feared dragon of them all. Unclaimed. Untamed.

A part of you wishes you would run far away. No one had seen this dragon in years, many had predicted he passed long ago. And maybe that would be for the better, he was unpredictable and ferocious. And yet, the other half of you is curious about the possibility that maybe…

“Dohaeris,” You test the word on your tongue. Serve.

The Cannibal huffs in response, as if contemplating the word. There’s a flicker of defiance in its eyes—this is no ordinary dragon, no creature easily bent to the will of man. But something in your voice, in your presence, seems to reach it.

You meet its gaze, refusing to back down. You lick at your lips. “Dohaeris,” you repeat, your voice stronger.

Cannibal lowers its head slightly, allowing you to run your fingers along the rough, black scales of its snout. He lets out a long breath, his body shifting as if in acknowledgment. Acceptance.

You let your lips curl into a smile.

Over the following days, the queen has built an army of new dragonriders—bastards, they call them. Three of them. Three men. They were fearless, driven by the fire in their veins and the promise of glory.

And you—you became the fourth. The only woman among the bastards.

The word that once boiled your blood. You and your brothers were always ridiculed for not having the Targaryen silver hair. But, unlike your twin brother who worries about his legitimacy as heir— you now wear it as a badge of defiance.

After all, you had claimed a dragon—the wildest and most dangerous of them all.

Cannibal stood with you among the others as equals, a new fearsome weapon in the queen’s arsenal. But even with your newfound strength, the threat of Aemond loomed like a shadow over every decision.

Your mother had commanded Ulf White, the rider of Silverwing, to fly over King’s Landing as a show of strength. Meanwhile, you all waited near the cliffs. Your mother stands before you, her gaze sharp and expectant as she awaited Aemond’s arrival.

You watch as Silverwing flies above, wings cutting through the bright sky.

And as expected, you see him—Aemond.

He’s not far behind, flying high above, mounted on the back of Vhagar. Her massive wings blot out the heavens, and the roar of the dragon reverberates the very clouds as she descends. You take a guarded step towards Cannibal as Aemond gaze fixes on you and the rightful heir to the iron throne.

The unspoken history between you clings to the air. Now, standing on opposite sides of this war, it feels even more dangerous than before.

But before he can make his move, your mother steps forward. Syrax, her golden dragon, looms behind her. A silent challenge vibrates in the air.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Aemond’s eye flickers from Rhaenyra to the dragonriders assembled below. His gaze lingers on you again, longer than it should. He sees you. He sees Cannibal. And for a heartbeat, you brace yourself, thinking he might strike.

But then, without warning, Aemond pulls Vhagar away with a sharp jerk of the reins. You watch as he veers off into the distance. You hesitate, watching his flight as Vhagar’s colossal wings beat against the sky. He’s not attacking. He’s retreating.

You watch even as he turns into a small spec of black in the blue sky.

Relief threatens to wash over you. But just as you’re about to turn back toward your mother, you see it—Aemond changing course, his flight path shifting toward the distant horizon. A wave of dread settles in your chest.

He’s heading for Sharp Point.

The small village that’s loyal to your mother. A village full of innocents.

Without thinking, you climb onto Cannibal’s back, your heart racing as you urge the dragon forward. “Sōvēs!” you shout. Fly!

Cannibal surges into the sky, his wings slicing through the air with deadly grace. Your mother’s voice calls out to you from below. “Don’t!” Her words are strained with urgency. “Stop!” she cries, but you don’t listen. You can’t. Not now.

Higher and faster, Cannibal climbs through the sky, the wind biting at your face as you race toward the horizon. Fear claws at your throat, and your heart thunders with every beat as you try to close the distance between you and Aemond. You push Cannibal harder, faster, but by the time you reach Sharp Point— it’s already too late.

The village is consumed by flames.

Screams echo down below as the smallfolk flee, their homes reduced to ashes. Their lives torn apart like paper in the wind. You watch in horror as the flames devour everything in their path. The stench of burning wood and flesh fills the air, heavy and sickening. Your stomach churns as you see the bodies of those who couldn’t escape—charred and lifeless. Tears prickle your eyes.

And then, in the distance, you see him.

Aemond.

Perched atop Vhagar, watching the destruction with a chilling detachment. Vhagar’s wings beat slowly, lazily, as though the chaos beneath them is beneath her notice.

Fury ignites inside you. You push Cannibal forward, gripping the reins tightly as you close the gap between you and Aemond. He watches you approach.

“Aemond!” you shout, your voice barely cutting through the roaring wind as you fly across from him.

Vhagar lets out a screech, but Aemond steadies her with a hand. “Daor,” he commands. No.

“This is what you’ve come to do?” You yell, your voice strained as you try to be heard over the winds. “Burn innocent smallfolk? Did my queen happen to hit a nerve?”

He sneers at this.

“They are nothing,” Aemond shouts back, his voice as cold and detached as ever. “Collateral. Casualties of war.”

“You think this will make you king?” you seethe, your fury burning like wildfire in your chest. “A king that’s too emotional for the throne when he’s been bested?”

Aemond’s expression grows serious, his one eye hardening as he looks at you. “Bantis ōños issa,” he says, his voice low and filled with dangerous promise. This is only the beginning.

Like a final warning, he pulls Vhagar away. Her massive wings beating against the wind as they disappear into the sky.

…And all you can do is, watch.

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon VIII - Relinquish.

Summary:

Vaelys and Aemond come to terms with the preious days events and Aemond makes a decision that infuriates Otto.

Warning(s): Angst, Blood, Smut, Uncle/Neice Incest, Masturbation.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 4148

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

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond's voice broke the heavy silence as he called for Vaelys' maid, Ceci. The air seemed to thicken with apprehension as Ceci entered the room, her steps faltering as her gaze fell upon the sight before her - the lifeless form of the King sprawled on the bed, and Vaelys, covered in his blood.

Shock etched across Ceci's features, her heart breaking for the princess that she had served faithfully since her employment began. With hesitant steps, she approached Vaelys, her eyes brimming with unspoken sorrow and concern.

"Are you okay, my lady?" Ceci's voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of fear and compassion as she reached out to her.

Vaelys nodded silently, her hand trembling as it reached out to grasp Ceci's. In that moment of shared grief and disbelief, their bond as confidantes and companions only deepened, a silent promise of support and solidarity amidst the tumult that threatened to engulf them.

Aemond's voice rang out with air of authority as he summoned the other maids and guards to the chambers.

They entered cautiously, their expressions a mix of shock and curiosity.

"Prepare a bath for my wife” Aemond instructed, his voice steady despite the weight of grief that hung heavy in the air. "And fetch a change of clothes for her."

The maids nodded in understanding, quickly setting to work to fulfil their Prince’s commands, their movements efficient yet respectful as they tended to their duties.

Turning his attention to the grim task that lay before him, Aemond gestured towards Aegon's lifeless form, his expression solemn. "And see to it that Aegon's body is-taken care of," he added quietly, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words to convey the gravity of the situation.

The guards nodded in acknowledgment, moving with silent efficiency to carry out their lord's orders, their faces drawn with solemn determination as they prepared to fulfil their duties,

Ceci approached Vaelys with gentle hands, her touch a soothing balm against the turmoil that threatened to consume them both. With tender care, she guided Vaelys towards the waiting bath, the warm water already beginning to fill the room with steam.

Vaelys sank into the water with a sigh, the tension in her muscles slowly melting away as she allowed herself to be enveloped by its comforting embrace. Ceci knelt beside her, her movements gentle and unhurried as she began to wash away the remnants of the tragedy that had unfolded before them.

The water turned crimson as the dried blood was washed from Vaelys' skin, a silent reminder of the horrors they had witnessed. Yet, with each stroke of Ceci's hand, the stain began to fade, replaced by the faint scent of soap and the promise of renewal.

As Vaelys closed her eyes, allowing herself to be carried away by the soothing rhythm of the water, she found solace in Ceci's presence.

After Aegon's body was attended to and removed from the chambers, Vaelys emerged from her bath, feeling the weight of the day's events still heavy upon her shoulders. Dressed in fresh garments provided by the maids, she made her way through the quiet halls, her steps hesitant as she sought out Aemond.

Entering the nursery, Vaelys found Aemond standing by the crib where their daughter, Sovia, lay peacefully asleep.

Without a word, Vaelys approached him, her footsteps soft against the floor. She reached out, her arms encircling him from behind, drawing him into an embrace that spoke volumes of the love and solace she sought to offer.

Pressing her face into his back, the scent of him, familiar and comforting, enveloped her, soothing the lingering ache in her heart.

Feeling the gentle touch of Vaelys' arms around him, Aemond's heart stirred, a silent echo of the love that bound them together. Slowly, he turned around to face her, his eyes meeting hers with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

Without a word, he drew her close, enfolding her in his embrace with a gentle strength that belied the turmoil within. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly against him as if to shield her from the world outside.

Vaelys nestled into the curve of his embrace, her head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing melody against the chaos of their reality. In that moment, all that mattered was the warmth of his touch, the reassurance of his presence.

"I've sent a raven to Dragonstone. I've informed Rhaenyra, that Aegon is dead, and I've told her that if she wants the Iron Throne, it's hers."

Vaelys' breath caught in her throat at Aemond's revelation, her eyes widening in shock as the weight of his words settled upon her. A knot of worry tightened in her chest as she considered the implications of her mother and father's arrival in King's Landing.

Her mother, Rhaenyra, was a formidable figure in her own right, yet, it was her father, Daemon, whose intentions filled Vaelys with a sense of dread. The memory of his past actions, sending assassins after Aemond, loomed large in her mind, a grim reminder of the danger that awaited them.

"What will it mean when they arrive?" Vaelys whispered, her voice laced with concern. "My father-he won't easily forgive what's happened, and he's never been one to shy away from-drastic measures."

"Then I will accept whatever fate awaits me," he declared, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of resignation. "If I am to die, then I will go to the Stranger willingly, knowing that you and Sovia are safe."

Tears welled up in Vaelys' eyes, blurring her vision as the weight of Aemond's words settled heavily upon her heart. The thought of him facing execution, of their future torn asunder by the cruel hand of fate, was almost too much to bear.

A choked sob escaped her lips, her hands trembling as she reached out to grasp Aemond's tightly. Her tears fell freely now, unchecked and unrestrained, each one a silent testament to the depth of her anguish.

"I can't bear the thought of losing you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "To see you torn from me, to face the world without you by my side-it's more than I can bear."

Aemond watched the tears welling in Vaelys's eyes with a heavy heart, knowing that his words had caused her pain. With a sigh, he reached out to gently wipe away her tears, his touch a tender caress against her cheek.

"Vaelys," he began, his voice tinged with sorrow, "I am a bad man. I've done terrible things, and I deserve punishment."

His admission hung in the air, a weighty acknowledgment of the sins he bore. "I kidnapped you, brought you here against your will," he continued, his voice trembling with remorse. "Yes, we eventually fell in love, but what I did was wrong."

Aemond's gaze faltered as he spoke the next words, the weight of their truth heavy upon him. "I helped usurp the throne from your mother, Rhaenyra. An act of high treason. The only punishment for such a crime is death."

His confession was a bitter pill to swallow, yet Aemond knew that he could not shy away from the consequences of his actions. And as he looked into Vaelys' tear-filled eyes, he knew that no matter what the future held, he would face it with a heavy heart, bearing the burden of his mistakes.

Otto's fury was palpable, his usually composed demeanour shattered by the news of Aemond's actions. "Aemond, you fool!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the halls of the Red Keep. "After everything I've sacrificed, after everything I've done, you dare to throw it all away?"

“I did what needed doing” snarled Aemond.

"No," Otto declared, his voice trembling with indignation. "I won't allow it. I won't allow you to undo everything I've worked for."

But Aemond stood firm, his jaw set in determination as he faced his grandsire's wrath. "I've made my decision, Grandsire," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "The crown belongs to Rhaenyra”.

Otto's rage burned like wildfire, his words dripping with venomous scorn as he turned his fury towards Vaelys. "You, girl," he spat, his voice laced with contempt as he fixed her with a piercing gaze. "You are the cause of this madness. You've turned Aemond against his own blood, against his family."

His accusation hung in the air, heavy with accusation and bitterness. "Congratulations," Otto continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I had no idea that such a wisp of a girl could play the game of thrones so well."

Vaelys stood silent, her gaze unwavering despite the onslaught of Otto's anger. She knew that his words were fuelled by frustration and fear, yet she refused to be cowed by his accusations.

"It was not I who turned Aemond," she said calmly, her voice steady in the face of his wrath. "It was his own conscience, his own sense of right and wrong. He chose this path because he believes it to be just."

But Otto would hear none of it, his fury unyielding.

With a heavy heart, Aemond gave the order for the Kings guard to imprison Otto, his resolve unyielding in the face of opposition. As the guards moved to carry out his command, Otto's protests fell on deaf ears, his cries of outrage fading into the cold embrace of captivity.

Vaelys approached Aemond with a heavy heart, her eyes reflecting the weight of the truth she was about to speak. "Aemond," she began softly, her voice tinged with sorrow, "You know my father will likely execute him."

Aemond met her gaze with a solemn nod, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon him. "Yes," he replied quietly, his voice heavy with resignation.

Vaelys regarded Aemond with a furrowed brow, her concern evident in her gaze. "How did Alicent take the news of Aegon's death?" she inquired softly.

Aemond's expression softened as he recounted his mother’s reaction. "She merely took a deep breath and nodded," he replied, his voice tinged with sadness. "It was as if she had been expecting the news."

“I-I’m sorry Aemond” muttered Vaelys.

“It’s not your fault-byka zaldrīzes” (Little Dragon).

Vaelys glanced at Aemond with a curious expression, her voice gentle as she asked, "Did you tell her of my mother’s impending arrival?"

Aemond's features softened as he responded, his tone tinged with a hint of sorrow. "She immediately began saying prayers to the mother for mercy,"

Vaelys regarded Aemond with a gentle smile, her eyes soft with warmth as she spoke. "You know, my mother isn't all bad," she said softly, her tone carrying a hint of fondness.

Aemond chuckled lightly at her words, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I’ll agree with that if she spares my life," he replied, his voice laced with humour despite the weight of their situation.

Vaelys stood in her chambers, the conqueror's crown cradled delicately in her hands. The dark metal a stark contrast to her pale skin.

"Perhaps you should try it on," Aemond suggested, a playful glint in his eyes as he nodded towards the crown.

Vaelys smiled softly at his suggestion but shook her head. "No," she said, her voice filled with quiet determination. "My time to rule will come one day, but for now-I must ask that you kneel before me”.

“What?” asked Aemond his brow furrowed with confusion.

“Kneel before me Aemond Targaryen” said Vaelys firmly.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Aemond slowly knelt before his wife.

Vaelys stepped forward, her movements graceful and deliberate as she placed the crown upon Aemond's head.

“Sīmonagon issa dārys” (Rise, my King).

"I shall wear the crown as King, if only for a day," he declared, his tone resolute. "My reign shall be a peaceful one”.

“I mean technically you did serve as regent so-“ chuckled Vaelys as Aemond lunged forward and began peppering kisses all over her face.

Aemond's gaze softened as he met Vaelys' eyes, a playful glint dancing within his own.

"I want to take you to bed-wearing the crown." muttered Aemond his voice low and husky with desire.

“Then allow me to worship you as the King you are” replied Vaelys.

“Hmm-what are you doing ābrazȳrys?” asked Aemond as Vaelys began undoing the buckles on his leather jerkin (Wife).

“Be patient issa jorrāelagon” replied Vaelys softly (My Love).

Aemond’s entire body was buzzing with anticipation as he observed his wife taking off his clothes, he closed his eye as her fingers slipped under the strap of his eyepatch and unbuckling it from his head.

The sapphire nestled in his eye socket, glinting in the low firelight.

“Now. I want you to sit here” muttered Vaelys as she directed Aemond to sit the wooden chair next to their bed.

“Vaelys what-“ exclaimed Aemond as she placed a finger over his lips.

“-Shhh my love. Do you trust me?” asked Vaelys.

Aemond nodded and slowly sat in the chair, his curiosity piqued at what his sweet wife was planning to do.

Vaelys then reached into the drawers of her vanity and pulled out two white silk scarves.

“Now be a good boy and don’t move” whispered Vaelys as she bound Aemond’s wrists to the wooden arms of the chair.

“Do you mean to torture me?” mused Aemond as Vaelys pressed a quick kiss to his lips and then took a step backwards away from him.

Vaelys simply smiled as she began undoing the ties on her dress.

Aemond watched her fingers moving slow against the silky material of her dress, pulling it from her shoulders and letting it slip from her shoulders, she moved to the fastenings of her shift, letting the sheer white material slid down her body and pool at her feet.

Aemond let out a low groan as he saw that she wasn’t wearing any small clothes.

Vaelys sat on the bed and slowly reclined against the soft opulent pillows.

“What is it you desire husband?” asked Vaeryna as she watched Aemond’s naked form shake slightly in the chair.

“Touch your breasts for me” instructed Aemond, his voice low and hypnotic. Vaelys did as he asked and slowly moved her hands to her breasts, closing her eyes.

“No. Keep your eyes on me” demanded Aemond. Watching him intently she gently cupped her breasts, Aemond stared at her transfixed, wetting his lips with his tongue.

 “Is this pleasing to you, Issa zaldrīzes?” asked Vaelys as she ran her fingers across slowly her erect nipples (My dragon).

“Very, now keep going Issa jorrāelagon” replied Aemond hungrily, his cock hard and weeping (My love).

He was going to ensure she came from his instructions and then after that he would fuck her so hard into the mattress.

Swallowing each and every one of her screams.

“Touch your cunny” said Aemond; his mouth watering as he watched Vaelys’ hand travel down her body.

“Aemond” moaned Vaelys, biting her lip as she slid her fingers along her already wet folds, slowly stroking herself. Aemond watched as his wife’s finger’s began circling her pearl, his wrists straining against the silk fabric that bound him to the chair.

“Put your fingers inside yourself” said Aemond firmly. Vaelys readily obeyed and slowly slid two fingers inside her cunny, curling them slightly as she moved her hand back and forth.

“Oh, fuck” moaned Vaelys quietly.

“Are you getting close” asked Aemond; his eyes firmly fixed onto his wife’s shaking body.

“Yes. Yes-” cried Vaelys as she began moving her hand faster.

“That’s it ābrazȳrys, come for me” replied Aemond, his fingers now digging into the wood of the chair (Wife).

Gods, she looked so beautiful, splayed naked on their bed pleasuring herself for him.

“A-Aemond, I’m-“ exclaimed Vaelys, her back arching off the bed as she peaked.

After a few minutes, Vaelys moved off the bed and ran her hands over the silk that bound her husband to his seat and then moved further up his bare arms, she leaned forward and ran her tongue over the shell of his ear.

“Now-husband. I want you to fuck me-wearing that crown” whispered Vaelys.

There was a beat of silence before Aemond ripped himself free of his restraints and wrapped his arms around Vaelys, vaulting them both backwards onto the bed.

In the throne room of the Red Keep, amidst the flickering torchlight, Aemond sat upon the Iron Throne. On his brow rested the Conqueror's Crown.

Close by his side stood his wife, Vaelys. Clad in garments that shimmered like the scales of a dragon, she held their daughter Sovia in her arms.

Aemond's mother, Alicent, stood tall and resolute. At her side was Helaena, beside them, Helaena's children, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor their little faces a mixture of curiosity and solemnity. Ser Criston, ever vigilant, loomed behind Alicent, his loyalty unwavering.

The council lords, assembled in lines either side of the throne room, awaited the arrival of Vaelys' mother, Rhaenyra.

The stony silence enveloping the throne room was suddenly shattered by a distant rumble, like thunder rolling across the heavens. Heads turned upward, faces contorted with a mix of awe and apprehension, as the unmistakable sound of approaching dragons echoed through the air.

Rhaenyra soared through the skies astride her mighty dragon, Syrax, the wind whipping through her hair and the beat of the dragon's wings echoing in her ears. To her left rode her husband, Daemon, atop the fearsome Caraxes, his features set in a steely determination matching her own. On her right flew her son Jace, mounted upon the young but powerful Vermax, his gaze focused and unwavering. Behind them followed her other son, Luke, riding proudly upon the back of Arrax, his eyes ablaze with the fire of their shared heritage.

Beside her stepdaughters, Baela and Rhaena, perched atop the elegant Moondancer, their silver hair streaming behind them like banners in the wind. Together, they formed a formidable force, a family united by blood and purpose, bound by the legacy of House Targaryen.

As the Red Keep loomed in the distance, its towers and battlements gleaming in the sunlight, Rhaenyra's heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and resolve. She knew what awaited her within those ancient walls, knew the challenges that lay ahead. But she was a Targaryen, born of fire and blood, and she would not falter in the face of adversity.

With a deep breath, Rhaenyra steadied herself, her grip on Syrax's reins firm and unyielding. She could feel the eyes of the city upon her, could sense the whispers of the smallfolk below. But she paid them no mind, her focus solely on the task at hand.

As the Red Keep drew nearer, Rhaenyra's determination only grew stronger. She would not be swayed from her path, would not be deterred by the obstacles that lay in her way. For she was the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and she would claim her birthright no matter the cost.

With a fierce cry, Rhaenyra urged Syrax onward, the dragon's wings beating rhythmically as they descended upon the courtyard of the Red Keep. And as she touched down upon the ancient stones, her heart filled with a sense of purpose unlike any she had ever known.

Amidst the determination that fuelled her flight, Rhaenyra Targaryen couldn't shake the swell of emotions rising within her. Alongside the anticipation of reclaiming her throne, there was a poignant longing, a yearning that tugged at her heartstrings—the ache of a mother separated from her daughter for too long.

Rhaenyra's thoughts drifted to her beloved daughter, the one she had not laid eyes upon for almost two years. Vaelys—her precious daughter, her flesh and blood. The memory of their last embrace, their last shared laughter, echoed in her mind, a bittersweet melody that filled her with both joy and sorrow.

Fear mingled with excitement as Rhaenyra anticipated their reunion. Would Vaelys still hold her mother's love as dearly as before? The uncertainty gnawed at her, a knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

As Daemon stood close to Rhaenyra, a sense of disbelief washed over him. The gates of the Red Keep stood open in welcome. And fluttering proudly from the ramparts was not the green and gold sigil of the usurper, but the familiar red and black of House Targaryen—the colours of his beloved wife, Rhaenyra.

Despite the surprising display, Daemon's instincts remained sharp. He knew better than to let his guard down entirely, especially in the volatile landscape of King's Landing. Casting a wary glance at Rhaenyra, he conveyed his silent caution, a wordless reminder that they couldn't afford to be naive in such uncertain times.

Rhaenyra's own expression mirrored his wariness, her gaze flickering with a mix of confusion and apprehension. Though the sight of her own sigil adorning the Red Keep's walls was a welcome surprise, she understood the precariousness of the situation all too well.

As the echoes of their dragons' wings faded into the distance, a new sound filled the air—a rhythmic march that heralded the approach of Rhaenyra's soldiers. The tension in the courtyard intensified, a palpable undercurrent of anticipation mingling with the uncertainty that hung heavy in the air.

Sensing the gravity of the moment, Daemon turned to Rhaenyra's sons and daughters—Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena—with a solemn expression. Though the sight of Rhaenyra's sigil flying overhead seemed to hint at a possibility for peace, he knew better than to let his guard down entirely.

"Be vigilant," he cautioned them in a low voice, his tone laced with authority. "We cannot afford to underestimate the situation. Stay close and be prepared for anything."

With the approaching sounds of Rhaenyra's soldiers growing louder by the second, they stood ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As the tension in the courtyard of the Red Keep reached its peak, a stirring sight unfolded beyond the gates. A formidable array of soldiers, banners snapping in the wind, began to assemble, their ranks swelling with each passing moment.

From the shores of Claw Isle came the soldiers of House Celtigar, their armor gleaming in the sunlight as they marched in disciplined formation. Close behind them, the men of House Massey joined the fray, their loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra unwavering in the face of uncertainty.

From the streets of Duskendale emerged the soldiers of House Darklyn, their black-and-gold banners unfurled as they rallied behind their queen's cause. Alongside them marched the men of House Bar Emmon, their determination mirrored in the steely glint of their eyes.

From the Vale of Arryn rode reinforcements led by none other than Lord Cregan Stark himself, the Warden of the North. His presence lent an air of gravitas to the gathering forces, his men standing tall and resolute in their commitment to Queen Rhaenyra's cause.

With a determined stride, Rhaenyra, flanked by her steadfast allies and family, made her entrance into the throne room of the Red Keep.

At her side strode Daemon, his presence a silent reassurance, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of vigilance and defiance. Behind them trailed her sons Jace and Luke, her stepdaughters Baela and Rhaena and Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. Together, they formed a formidable assembly—a united front against the encroaching shadows of uncertainty.

As they entered the throne room, the air crackled with tension. All eyes turned toward the figure seated upon the Iron Throne—Aemond Targaryen.

Rhaenyra's jaw tightened with determination as she locked gazes with her brother.

With a regal bearing, Rhaenyra advanced into the heart of the throne room, her retinue close behind her.

As Rhaenyra's gaze bore into the figure seated upon the Iron Throne, her attention was suddenly diverted by a sight that struck her to the core and brought tears to her eyes.

There, standing amidst the crowd, was Vaelys, her sweet girl. But it wasn't just Vaelys that caught Rhaenyra's eye; it was the bundle in her arms, a babe of nine moons with a messy mop of silver curls—a grandchild she had yet to meet.

Just as Rhaenyra was about to take a step towards her daughter, Aemond levered himself off the Iron Throne and slowly made his way towards Rhaenyra.

Daemon bristled with restrained energy, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword—a silent reminder of the readiness for whatever might transpire.

Aemond reached towards his head and slowly pulled off the conquerors crown, his long fingers wrapped around the metal as he held it out to Rhaenyra.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm” declared Aemond loudly.

“SEIZE HIM”

[spider-jaysart]

https://youtu.be/ovXW8BJCJkk?si=pcOPLNS_J5yE8AO5

Saw that you were a damijon fan and I had to share

Its jon and Damian arguing over Mari ( maybe not necessarily arguing if Mari stands on Damian or Jon’s side if they get married , but Damian claims Mari is his best friend and Jon claims Mari is HIS best friend)

Lolll that's pretty funny

For a more fitting scenario though (since I don't see Mar'i exactly being a bestie of Jon's) I can see that during childhood, Mar'i, who was much younger than them both (6 years old, while they were 11 and 12), began seeing them both as Uncles, due to them always being so close to eachother during their time as just best friends before dating, and then when they finally did start dating, that just made her see Jon as an Uncle figure even more in her eyes. And in turn, Jon adores her a lot as the Neice figure he gained

So in the future now, it's like:

Damian, confidently: She's my Niece, ofc she's going to be on my side during our wedding

Jon: Woah, what about my side?🤨

Damian: What do you mean?

Jon: Well, I'm her Uncle too

Mar'i: Yeah, that's true :D

Damian, to Mar'i: I'M your Uncle

Jon: And me too! So I also get a say

Damian: She's MY Niece!!

Jon: AND mines too!!

Mar'i: (°-°;)

Damian: Well, you can't just start changing around things like this, I already had this part of it all planned out!

Jon: If she's my Niece, which she is, than yes I can

Damian, trying to win: BUT IT'S NOT OFFICIAL LIKE OURS!!

Jon: BUT WE HAVE A BOND TOO AND IT WILL BE SOON ANYWAYS!!

Mar'i: GUYS STOP!! YOU'RE BOTH REALLY IMPORTANT TO ME!!😰

Jake, standing at the corner of the doorway, watching them get so dramatic over this:......I'm surprised none of you thought about asking me these very important questions too as your Nephew🙁

Damian, Jon, and Mar'i:....

Damian: We didn't forget about you

Jon: Yeah, Jakey, we were just-

Jake: No, no, it's fine. I see where ya'lls priorities are at (leaves to go eat Kory's Zorkaberry tarts in sadness)

Damian and Jon: JAKE!

And then they have to go after him and show him they want him involved just as much as his Sister lolll. And they don't have favorites as Uncles, Jake just gets sensitive like that sometimes lmaooo😂

[girlreblogger]

movie nights! chapter 2

conniexblackfemreader. it’s fall..

orihime (girl in the banner) photo credit goes to @/Xoxo_io on pinterest!

— fluff, chapter 2/5, 3rd pov, more connie-reader interaction soon use of y/n, not proof read, longer, really just getting to know the characters more, enjoy! - chapter 1 -

y/n and eren walked back into the living to see armin and mikasa laughing at something armin found in his camera roll. “you guys ready?” Y/n asked with her hands heavy with a bowl of popcorn and candy, skipping over to sit back in her seat between mika and armin. she handed mikasa some twizzlers while armin placed the bowl in his own lap. Mikasa sat on the long couch, furtherest away from the tv. That made her closer to connie who sat on the shorter couch against the wall across from the tv. Her eyes flickered from the bunches of horror film’s advertising themselves on the television and then to connie. He was opening up a tiny bag of halloween themed m&ms that eren brought from the kitchen. “don’t pick a scary movie.” Mikasa blurted while looking him in the eye intensely. He lifted his eyes from the candy and then to his friend.

“Uhh..” Connie internally chuckled at the scared look on her face. “I won’t.” He assured with a small snicker. He wasn’t planning on doing it anyway since he knew she hated them. All her friends heard the story of her at her uncle levi’s house on one halloween. It ended with her screaming and running through the house because he thought the best way to bond with his neice was through scary movies he didn’t find the least bit frightening. But for an eight year old? large titans coming out of walls, eating and trampling people, skinless faces seemingly mutilated on the screen was the ultimate nightmare inducer.

Eren handed Connie some more candy and laid on his shoulder with a huff. “You want some?” Eren asked while pointing a box of mike and ikes towards his friend. “You know ion eat them” Connie laughed while shooing eren off who just shrugged. “i want some” Armin spoke, he quickly got up and snatched the box from eren. “now how you gonna take my stuff like that.” Eren watched armin pour the candies in his mouth listening to the sound of the candies clinking together. “Alright bro that’s enough!” Eren yelled, trying to stop his candies from being eaten.

Y/n looked over at armin from talking to mikasa and put her hand out expectantly. “And y/n I didn’t say you could get any.” Armin quickly shook some in y/n’s hands before eren stood up and snatched the box from him. “..my shit back.” Eren mumbled while connie cackled and mikasa shook her head while calling his name aggressively. Mikasa was the mom of those two.

“Damn you scratched my hand with the box.” Armin mumbled with attitude and a sharp glare before looking at the red part of his hand. Y/n put the few candies she had into her mouth quickly and grabbed armin’s hand. She scrunched her eyebrows slowly and examined the long red cut along the palm of his hand that went up to the middle of his index finger.

“aww.” The jagged edge of the box must have dragged across his hand when eren snatched it from him. Y/n could see little droplets of blood bubbling up in the slightest and the sight alone made her queasy.

Armin looked away from eren and then to y/n. He started to pull back his hand since he didn’t think it was a big deal until y/n stood up with his hand still in hers. “Let me get you a bandaid and clean it real quick. we’ll be back soon.” Y/n pulled armin’s long lanky arm as he lifted himself up from the sofa and followed behind, slowly growing a smile on his face without looking back at his friends. Eren only shook his head and laughed, as did mikasa since they knew he had a small crush on y/n.

A few months ago at one of their annual movie nights, a full hour and a half of something that was unintentional cuddling with her had him thinking of potential endings for more than just the unsolved documentary they’d been watching.

Connie watched armin and y/n leave around the corner to go to the nearest bathroom. “So y’all wasn’t gonna tell me y’all were friends with her?! ” Connie blurted with his hands in his lap, whispering to mikasa or eren with wide eyes. “she’s too hot.” He fake fanned himself dramatically, thinking about the way she dragged armin to the back of the apartment.

‘man, what i’d give for that to be me’

Mikasa only smiled but stayed quiet while Eren rolled his eyes. “con bro you were with your dad in the dr for 2 months then went to your mom’s place in south carolina for 2 more… be real.” Connie pursed his lips to the side and watched eren nonchalantly pop a watermelon candy in his mouth, which wasn’t even what he scratched armin’s hand up for.

Connie was a free spirit, where ever the wind blew he was there. Of course which is one of the reason he never crossed paths y/n, surprisingly. The last Xmas break Eren, Mikasa, and armin had they all were supposed to go on a road trip. Unbeknownst to them, he’d be on the country side of france with their other friend jean.

“You coulda facetimed me, sent a picture or somethin.“ Connie smacked his lips and looked to the side while he ate some of the popcorn eren gave him. His mind wandered excitedly at the thought of getting to know more about y/n. Just like he loved new places, he loved meeting new people. “Eren you need to be more careful. you can be so damn aggressive.” Y/n’s voiced yelled as she walked back into the living room with a red faced armin behind her.

The other three friends eyed the pink blush on armin’s face before looking at Y/n who was sitting down now, getting comfortable again with her feet tucked under her. “It was self defense.” Eren said calmly with his nose tooted up. “Yeah right the cut was long and he said it still hurts.” Y/n rebuttaled, annoyed she had to witness one of eren and armin’s sibling squabbles in the first place.

Connie couldn’t help but let his eyes roam her face for the hundredth time that night. He thought it was endearing how she cared so much about her friend. How her forehead wrinkled and she moved one of her long braids from her high ponytail out of her face when she watched armin walk to sit down. “..cut a little deep too, but i’m alright.” Armin sighed while looking at the big bandaid on his hand. Connie’s ears twitched, eyes holding back an eye roll before moving to armin with an annoyed expression.

‘oh please.’

How could a cardboard box cut him that damn bad. Connie rose a brow, trying not to smile at armin being annoying. He sunk deeper in his seat and ate some of the popcorn out of the small bowl eren brought from the kitchen too.

“It’s okay min it’ll heal fast.” Y/n spoke, honestly when y/n first briefly met armin nothing about him made her think of him as ‘cute’ or ‘innocent’ like some would assume. She knew better than that, she simply just saw him as more reserved compared to his friends. Even still she never thought of him that way. Now, he was her friend, so she treated and cared for him like she did all her friends. Her friends would always have a soft spot in her heart.

‘i wanna be her friend’

It didn’t help that getting to know min more exposed his benign nature— which wavered depending on who he was speaking to. “Come here.” She sighed while gently letting him lay his head on her chest.

“all right now..”

“are you serious?”

Connie and eren both spoke at the same time. “damn, that must hurt min.” Mikasa said sympathetically once she actually got a good look at his hand while rubbing his hair a little. (she hadn’t been paying much mind) “It does mika.” Armin’s deep voice spoke softly, pouting his lips playfully which made y/n chuckle.

For some reason mikasa treated armin the same as y/n. Maybe, it was because she stood up for him so much in elementary school. This odd “charm” of his was undeniable amongst eren and connie who briefly reminisced at all the times girls they even came in contact with seemingly treated him the same. they all had a soft spot for him for whatever reason.

Connie and eren looked at each other in disbelief.

“bruh i could gag.”

Connie grumbled while looking at armin who was happy with the warm place he found on top of y/n’s chest, laying on her comfortably and glaring at the two men with a smug look. Eren laughed at Connie’s remark and threw a piece of popcorn at armin “mmcht.” Armin smacked his teeth, that nice demeanor was never really there for eren and connie.

Somehow connie found his eyes going back to y/n’s. at this point in was inevitable to stop him from staring. he had been trying to make some kind of eye contact the whole night. When he first arrived at her and mikasa’s place she only gave him a curt smile and greeting before eren and armin bombarded him with questions since it had been a while since they saw him.

“Thanks again y/n for the bandaid.” Armin said looking up at her and flashing a kind smile. “It’s finee.” She gave him a harmless wink and rubbed his back as he took a small sniff of her skin. He closed his eyes at her sweet perfume, opening them to smile at the guys in front of him. As if to say ‘who cares what you think i’m cuddling with my crush right now’. Yet for someone as smart as y/n her only flaw was not knowing when someone liked her.

Even when she kept catching connie eyeing her in the corner of her eye the whole time he’d been there. And of course someone blushing profusely while you dabbed peroxide on a cut instead of thinking about the pain didn’t conjure up any thoughts of someone else’s unrequited feelings either.

“Connie did you find a movie yet.” Y/n knocked Connie out of his trance he’d been in for a few seconds.

“Uh.. no sorry lemme find one.” He grabbed the remote and cleared his throat, ignoring the nudge in his arm from eren.

“oh I’m okay.”

Connie heared armin whisper to y/n while he clicked ‘doraline’ for everyone to watch. He stuffed the remote on the side of him and the cushions and put his arm up on the couch, trying to relax before the movie started. He crumbled the now empty bag of m&ms and slowly looked to his side. He could see armin now sitting up with his arm over y/n, watching them both stop their whispers to look at the screen.

end of chapter 2.

please like, comment, and REBLOG! .. please :) i don’t even usually do banners and stuff but i’m really excited abt this fic so please comment, reblog with tags, or give some (no one’s saying a novel) feedback if you enjoyed cause it helps with motivation. thank you!

[thesupernaturalhouse]

Listen okay? Veldora and Milam are both dragons, yes(half Dragan in milams case) but they act just like big puppies to me and I love that

Also, I think their uncle and niece right? So their way of bonding is destroying parts of tempest- while veldora is supposed to be looking after it-

And the fact they get dragged away and punished by their respective 'owners' veldora-rimuru milam-frey

Like, I'm sorry, but I just saw that epiaode/scene and this is all I could think about, two German Shepards accidentally destroying shit as a form of uncle-neice bonding-

[sky-n-thunder]

Uncles are the human term for the sibling of a parent or someone you have a strong bond with. In this case, you're my uncles and I'm your neice!

Humans seem to have a term for everything…

WE’RE UNCLES!! That’s amazing! I’m gonna teach you every bad word I can think of

Skywarp, Starscream is going to kill you

>:3 He can try, if he can catch me

[luna-purpleart]

For @golden1exe

Something of an uncle/neice bond!

Since Shara is physically (and a bit mentally) a child, Papyrus likes to act as a sort of guardian or care-taker.

They're a bit too reliant on each other, but who isn't?

(It could have something to do with everyone else being dead, but that's correlation, not causation. Right?)

[the-wraiths-wife]

Kaz brekker's baby sitting

CONTEXT ; adjala brekker is kazs adopted sister (and shes suli) and elijah rollins is Pekkas illegitamate disowned son (adjalas husband) and kaz has a neice, Jordan and her twin brother is his first nephew Johaness and Kaz fav nephew is Kaz jr. a baby boy who likes kaz alot too.

WARNINGS; Cuteness overload 😭😭

The cozy candlelit restaurant in ketterdam provided the perfect ambiance for Adjala and Elijah's long-overdue date night. They savored each other's company, relishing the rare moments of quietude and connection.

Meanwhile, back at their home, Uncle Kaz was in charge of babysitting duty. With a baby boy, Kaz Jr., a toddler girl, Jordan, and her twin brother, Johannes, it was a formidable task. Kaz watched the twins with a mixture of awe and exhaustion as they energetically tore through the living room, rearranging furniture and creating chaos.

Kaz sighed, his gloved hands buried in his hair as he muttered to himself, "What am I doing with my life? Why did I agree to this? This is madness."

Kaz Jr., seated in his baby bouncer nearby, cooed in apparent agreement, seemingly understanding the gravity of the situation as he watched the twins cause mayhem.

Hours passed, and just when Kaz thought he might lose his mind, he had a brilliant idea. He started constructing one of his infamous "Kaz Bunker" pillow forts. With the speed and precision of a mastermind, he built walls of pillows and blankets, corralling the twins into the makeshift fortress.

As Adjala and Elijah returned home, they were met with a scene of controlled chaos. The living room was a mess, but it was contained within the boundaries of the pillow fort. Kaz lay on the floor, fast asleep, his mouth slightly open, drooling onto the carpet.

Elijah couldn't help but chuckle as he surveyed the scene. "Looks like Uncle Kaz managed to get some sleep."

Adjala nodded, a fond smile on her face. "Maybe all those heists were practice for babysitting. I never expected my brother drooling on my carpet with my son on his chest."

They approached the fort and found Kaz Jr. sleeping soundly on Kaz's chest, while Jordan and Johannes had cuddled up next to him, also fast asleep.

Elijah gently lifted Kaz Jr. and laid him in his crib, while Adjala carefully extricated the twins from the fort. Kaz Jr. seemed to stir for a moment, but he settled back into slumber, content in the knowledge that his uncle had things under control.

As they settled their children into their beds, Adjala and Elijah couldn't help but appreciate the bond between Kaz and their little family. It might be unconventional, and sometimes chaotic, but it was filled with love, laughter, and the occasional pillow fort heist.

Adjala whispered to Elijah, "We're lucky to have him."

Elijah smiled and kissed her forehead. "Yes, we are."

"Kaz." Adjala gently shakes him awake. "Get up. Sleep in the guest room."

And with Kaz groggily left the room, knowing that he had proved himself to be more than just a mastermind—he was a master babysitter, too.

Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r , @cookie-block , @she-posts-nerdy-stuff, @marsconer ,

[riotarttherite]

I like your headcanon of Rhaegel and his neice Daella having dark hair since I like to imagine their older brothers Baelor and Daeron not being the only ones who took after their mothers when it comes to hair colors.

I know at one point Aelora was the heir of her uncle Aerys I so I wonder if she was into reading books and scrolls like he was. I don't know if they even met, but I like to headcanon that spending time with Aerys and Aelinor helped Aelora with her grief over her brother Aelor's death.

---------------------------------------------------------------

(I put together the asks of, I guess, the same anon)

Yes I will always jump on the possibility of adding a dark haired/violet eyed Targaryen here and there because it just looks too good

Yes that's a really fascinating image! The other day I was even wondering if twins Aelor and Aelora could be named after aunt Aelinor if there really was a close family bond....

[chaifootsteps]

You know what would be fuckin cool? A horse girl movie, but with dinosaurs.

Like, a world where dinosaurs never went extinct and humans just kinda evolved with them, eventually utilizing them like we did horses, using them for riding and farm work and such, complete with bad cgi dinosaurs and bad acting.

Enter the main character, a city girl whose parents died tragically in a car crash or something, so she has to go live on her uncle/grandparents' ranch, despite hating dinosaurs because when she was 5, she fell off a dinosaur and vowed to never ride again.

She meets the conventionally subpar attractive farm hand who only speaks in old wise countryisms, and immediately gets in an argument with him for some stupid fuckin reason and is TOTALLY not gonna fall in love with him by the end of the week.

As her grandparent/uncle show her around the farm, she sees a... (googles dinosaurs for five minutes).... triceratops?... yeah, sure, let's go with that.

She meets a triceratops that's totally wild and untamable, and when she sees it, she knows that they have a bond. Her grandparents tell her to stay away from it because it's dangerous and wild, and no one can tame it, but she's like, "No, it's not dangerous, it's just scared and misunderstood! No one understands it, but I do!" Despite having zero knowledge or experience with dinosaurs.

She ignores their warnings, spending time with the triceratops and slowly training it, and when the farm hand sees them together, he sees their connection, and he offers to help, giving her lessons and support instead of informing his employer that their granddaughter/neice is messing with a large, supposedly dangerous wild animal that could easily kill her.

After a while, the grandfather finds out and tells her to stay away, letting on that he plans to sell the triceratops in a desperate attempt to raise money because they're about to lose the farm! The girl knows she can't let this happen, so despite the warnings and the fact that she promised to never ride again, she works to train the triceratops for the big race/rodeo/barrel racing/jumping competition that conveniently is offering enough prize money to save the farm.

She works hard, and despite the triceratops suffering an injury/getting sick, probably caused by the stuck up rich bitch who's also competing and hates the main girl cause she's poor, she makes it to the competition and wins! She proves to her grandparents/uncle that the triceratops could be trained, and that she was right all along, and the grandparents/uncle is so proud and tell her that she's just like her mother, and that she'd be proud.

The main girl and the farm hand fall in love and start dating (SHOCKER), and the farms saved, and they ride off on dinosaurs into the sunset.

Cue the credits with cheesy country song about being strong and following your dreams, remixed with the jurassic park theme.

I need this. The world needs this.

[gccdstories]

//the forever war verse!//

Achlys was dead, the veil keeping the changelings from the Valg and Daglan kingdom and fallen.

Wendlyn, and Midgard's wards raised in response but they were the simple capitals.

Vaalbara for the Valg and Prythian for the Daglan as a whole were left unprotected.

Mating markings flared, piting neighbor against neighbor - friend and family against each other.

Everyone knew that Changeling royals getting their mates would be catastrophic.

------

Dianna looked to the sky, feeling the rush of it in her veins. They needed that book - they needed to find the Reshaye.

The weapon could stop this war, could save them all before it was over. Maybe if she got that book Kaden would let her see Gabriella for more than a week this time.

Tobias and Alister seemed more restless than usual. What did they understand that she didn't?

------

Samkiel was happy to stay away, to let his grief consume him. But he felt it now, the screaming of his kin - the Changelings were free.

They were taking whatever they wanted.

He stared at the fire, watching it all in numb and unfeeling.

Raffiel he called himself, he claimed to be Apollion and Cassandra's son. He wore the Heir Marks that his parents had denied.

Would he take his crown?

Should he let the boy have it when he knew the cost came in blood?

------

Adaine turned away from the window, surges of wild magic were blowing free. Whatever spells the Daglan and Valg had performed were being erased.

She looked to her cousin Xaden and Sebastian.

Sebastian stared at the Wyrdstone as the last of the light flared and died. He rubbed at his temples, Xaden couldn't handle the tense silence.

"What now? What's happening?"

"We put up the wall, we tried to stop this from -"

"Pa!"

There was an edge of panic to it. Sebastian lowered his hand and squeezed his son's shoulder.

"War. War is coming. They are free, free to get the revenge they'd wanted to for the last 500 years ago. That's what's coming Xaden...they don't have honor. They will not hesitate to hit you where it matters. Stay with Catriona, stay with Dean let Azriel and Aleksander -"

"Didn't they help free them? Won't they listen to them?"

She hated that her voice came out high. Her sisters had helped topple Achlys. Emelin and Estrella surely were favored right? Surely that counted for something right?

Sebastian sent his neice a tight smile.

"It might, I'm sure they've all made allies. But I don't know if it'll be enough. Many of the Changelings are older and won't listen - they want -"

He flinched, rubbing at his wrist. Be blinked, the Call dragging at his skin. He gritted his teeth exhaling.

"Uncle Bash, are you alright? Is there something -"

Sebastian turned away, pulling his sleeve down over his wrist. He looked to Adaine and Xaden.

"Prepare, get ready."

Natalia I can feel them Call me. I don't think they're just going for me.

Athril, Viren, and Cyrus had all chosen their mates over the good of their Clans. He knew one day he'd pay for that - he had hoped they'd have more time.

//For Nat and Xaden? And Idk any of the new ones?? SYGAEL!!//

Natalia froze where she stood, her hands clenching against the back of the chair she stood behind. Eyes darkened, narrowed. As she heard her mate's voice in her mind, the dread sat like a heavy weight of ice inside of her.

Shadows curled against the wall, the floor; it had been ages since Natalia's emotions took such an effect on her, since her control slipped enough that the darkness was free. Not held back and leashed by her own strength, her own will.

She had been a little girl the last time that had happened.

But the fear that gripped her in that moment as Sebastian's voice echoed in the bond--

Where are the others?

Natalia wasn't even sure who all she referred to with that. Just her children? Or everyone else? Friends and allies and all that had sided with them through the centuries?

Xaden frowned; there was something his father wasn't saying. He noticed the way those shoulders had tensed, that hiss that he'd tried to tell himself he hadn't heard and was imagining--but Xaden knew he'd heard it.

❝ You're not telling me everything. ❞ That hadn't initially been what Xaden had meant to direct towards Sebastian, but perhaps his feelings overtook the logic. He didn't worry about trying to take the words back anyway.

❝ What else is wrong? ❞

@siderealxmelody

[luxmaeastra]

//they're all going to scream//

Gaheris rolled his eyes, and adjusted his collar. He turned to his mirror, turning away from his rooms to walk to his throne.

"If you all want to believe in fairytales listen to my siblings."

He turned back to his neice and nephews.

"But if you want to hold power in this world you take what you want."

Peresephone chewed on her lip, looking to Alaric and back Gaheris.

"But what if someone else tried to take it back?"

Garehis lips lifted into a smirk.

"You make sure you're more powerful. That's how this game is played children. Be more ruthless and cunning than the next person. Trust blood over everything else."

His words had a double meaning. Trust blood over everything else, was he referring to the blood they shared with their families, or was he actually referring to the act of spilling blood?

The idea of being cunning and ruthless appealed to her, yet there were some lines she wouldn’t cross. Even if things at this time were strained…

She wanted the power to protect the happiness she craved and yearned for. A happiness that did not hold ties to power and a kingdom, but she was learning quickly she needed a means to protect what she had.

But betraying her sister was not a path she wanted to cross, even if right at this time her and Estelle weren’t talking. Even if in recent months their bond was strained, even if she knew if she pushed her sister would step aside….Or would she? The Estelle before her mating would, the one who who didn’t fully understand the changeling world. She didn’t know the version that she was hearing whispers of. Pain resonated in her chest, yet she wouldn’t vocalize it.

“And what do you have to show for it Uncle Gaheris?” She finally spoke up. “Beside the throne you sit on?”

[genderlessjacky]

YESSS uncle and neice bonding!!!

sneak peak of the turtles' designs in your au??

DJSJDB they are still in the making! So have Donnie and his nephew/niece kid!

[faolanrune]

Akian language Part 5: Relationship Markers

See Masterlist for parts 1-4

Akian refer to friends and family as kin.

Kin is simply a family member, someone related by blood

Mati-kin is an Akians mate, or partner.

Punu-kin, or bond kin, are close friends. Many but not all Akians will declare another as an official bond-kin in front of family, declaring their loyalty and friendship for all eternity.

Akian does not have gender markers. So terms are gender neutral.

Parent: para’an

Stranger: niku (similar to the word for sorry, niki, as if apologizing they are a stranger and not yet a friend)

Neighborhood: junin (meaning many houses)

Tribe: tripa

House: Juni

Sibling: sipu

Grandparent: ida-para’an (elder parent)

Aunt or uncle: sipu-para’an (parents sibling)

Cousin: para-sipu (meaning far sibling)

Neice or nephew: sipu-kinu (sibling’s child)

Age terms (will explain more in Akian Physiology)

Child (0-10): kinu

Unfeeling (10-20): numa

Young adult (20-25): aku-pasun

Societal Member (25-250): aki-pasun (Anyone who comes from Akari is called Akian, aki-pasun is used for those considered adults in society)

Elder (250+): ipa