#violet is the closest i could remember

[atomic-ellie]

Hehe 😋

[littlest-w01f]

Sensitive

Batboys x Reader

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand shows you he and his closest friends aren't put off by blood

CW: Period sex, very descriptive, blood, horny young adult batboys, wingplay, shadowplay, some consensual mind control, Smut 18+ MDNI (Brought to you by horny periods, my uterus has taken control of me)

A/n: posting both together cause I'll be busy later and don't want to forget. Special mention to @shadowsingers-mate who asked to be tagged :)

The sun had set as you lay in Rhysand, your mate's cot, in the tent he shared with his friends, he would've been training all day while you were working with your mother, he had asked you to come to his tent after you were done, your stomach had been cramping in a familiar way all day, eyes going wide, Illyrian wings curling around yourself as you tense, you had managed to hide your periods for a while, well, almost two years you would cover yourself with a different scent than of your periods so no one caught on, and sometimes Rhysand would glamour you too.

You shot up, your stomach hurting from the cramps, Oh no, you thought as you moved to see blood spots in Rhysand's cot, you stood up, eyes wide in fear.

Panic flooded through you as you stared at the blood spots on Rhysand's cot, your heart racing. You knew you had to clean this up quickly before anyone noticed. But as you stood there frozen, you couldn't help but think about how you would explain this to Rhysand and the others.

You tried to look for something to clean the crimson spots with and find a washcloth, but you ended up spreading it further. As you frantically scrubbed at the stains, trying to erase evidence of your predicament, your mind raced with worry. Thinking of how you could possibly explain this to Rhysand without them thinking less of you.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested on your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly. Rhysand's piercing violet eyes locking onto yours. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked, concern etched on his handsome face, his body covered in sweat from training.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "I… I started bleeding... Ruined your bed..." You stammered, gesturing to the cot behind you.

Rhysand's expression softened, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's just a little blood, alright? It's nothing serious."

His reassuring presence did nothing to calm your frantic heart. Rhysand's comforting embrace felt foreign against your trembling body, a stark reminder of your unspoken shame. Your mind scrambled to justify why you were feeling such dread over what seemed like a normal occurrence to everyone else.

"Let me take care of this," Rhysand murmured, guiding you back towards the cot and pushing you gently down His piercing gaze locked onto yours again, filled with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

"You know you're always safe with me, right? I'm not one of the males who will force your wings clipped." He murmured softly, his voice low and soothing. "No matter what happens."

"Yeah, I know... I just... Paniced." You nodded, "I know now clean you keep your things and I just... Bled all over your damn bed."

Rhysand chuckled, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Well, it's not the first time my things has seen some unexpected messes, and it won't be the last, I live with Cassian and Azriel remember." He teased, his fingers trailing along your spine in a soothing pattern.

His touch sent shivers down your body, despite the awkward situation. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins from his gaze.

Rhysand leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck. "But since we're already here, and I've got you all to myself… Why don't we make the most of it?" He suggested, his voice dripping with seduction.

Just as Rhysand pushed your skirt up, exposing your cotton lingerie to him, sliding them off and throwing them somewhere behind him, the sound of wings echoed outside the tent. Cassian and Azriel landed in, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement at the sight before them.

Cassian's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his gaze lingering on your exposed thighs and the crimson spots on your garments. "Well, well, looks like someone's having a bloody good time," he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Azriel, on the other hand, looked a bit more flustered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. However, his eyes never left your body, filled with hunger, his shadows turning and twisting as the sight. And he did manage an eye roll at Cassian's comment.

With a yelp you shut your thighs, not that it was embarrassing to have them see you and your mate in compromising positions, since you had made love while they were in the room acting as if you weren't fucking in the tent, and you'd seen them in the same positions with the random females they brought back, making you all pretty nonchalant about nudity.

Rhysand, sensing your unease, gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, darlings, we're all grown here. There's no need to be shy, besides, blood doesn't make any of us squmish," he purred, spreading your legs again, his hands roaming your exposed thigh, sending tingles throughout your body.

Cassian, still smirking, stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "In fact, we could all use a good fuck after a long day of training and work."

A cough sounded from Azriel but the scent of his arousal made it quite clear he liked the idea

You felt Rhysand press into your mind shields, Are you sure? I could always tell them to fuck off, his voice rang in your head.

You nod, heart racing wildly, "I want that... I'd like that."

With a nod, Rhysand glamoured the tent to keep the sounds in, his hands travelled upwards, tracing the curves of your hips and then along your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "As you wish," he whispered huskily, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Cassian and Azriel watched intently, their own arousal growing more evident by the second. Cassian closed the distance between you and him, his clothes gone, pressing his chest against your back, you whine as it makes contact with your wings, his hands finding their way to cup your breasts, ripping your dress off your body.

Meanwhile, Azriel approached from the side, his fingers ghosting across your exposed skin, trailing down until he reached your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

Azriel's finger slipped inside your slick heat, the sensation of his digit coated in your blood mixing with your arousal sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He pumped his finger slowly, curling it to find and stroke that sensitive spot within you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

Rhysand broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "That's it, let us take care of you." Rhysand snapped his fingers and he and Azriel's clothes disappeared. His hands found their way to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your cunt as did the sight of their hard cocks curving into their stomach.

Cassian's mouth latched onto your neck, biting and sucking, marking you as his. His free hand slid down to join Azriel's, both of them pumping their fingers in and out of you in tandem, driving you closer to the edge.

The sensation of being surrounded by their leathery wings only heightened your arousal, their unique scents mingling together in the air around you. The combined pressure of their bodies against you, coupled with the rhythm of their fingers working in and out of you, drove you to the brink of insanity.

Rhysand's teeth grazed against your collarbone, sending an electric jolt down your spine. "You're so fucking wet for them, so messy, aren't you?" he growled, his fingers rolling your hardened nipples between them.

Azriel added another finger, stretching you deliciously, his strokes becoming more insistent. Cassian nipped at your earlobe, whispering, "Come on baby, let go."

Your entire body tensed, a cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm hit you hard, your walls clenching around Azriel and Cassian's fingers.

As your climax ripped through you, waves of intense pleasure crashing over you, you cried out, your voice echoing around the tent. Your inner walls spasmed around Azriel and Cassian's fingers, coating their digits in your thick, crimson release.

Rhysand's teasing bites on your wings only intensified the sensations, causing you to convulse under their touches. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans as your orgasm subsided.

Cassian and Azriel slowly withdrew their fingers, watching as your cunt gushed one final time, coating their hands in your essence.

The air within the small confines of the tent grew thick with lustful energy, the scent of arousal and blood filling your nostrils. Rhysand smiled, pleased with the fucked out look on your face. "Let's not waste another moment, huh?" he murmured, his hands travelling lower, grazing the edges of your soaked cunt.

"We'll take the front," Cassian said, his voice rough with desire as he bit your shoulder.

"I want her mouth," Azriel added, stepping closer, his shadowy tendrils reaching out to caress your skin, the shadows feeling you up.

With a wicked grin, Rhysand positioned himself between your spread thighs, his cock throbbing against your dripping entrance. "I think it's only fair, my love, with how hard they made you cum," he purred, pushing the tip of his cock against you, teasing you mercilessly.

Cassian moved to your side, positioning his cock at your cunt beside Rhysand's, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Hold her still, Rhys," he smirked, pressing against your hole.

Azriel's shadows wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as they bend you backwards, laying you on your side, resting your head on his thigh, so close to his cock it had you salivating.

"Hold her, how?" Rhysand chuckled, looking right into your eyes, Do you want? He asked in your head, his daemati abilities around your mind. You relaxed with a yes, letting him take control of your mind and body, forcing you still, leaving your control enough so you could moan.

With a thought, Rhysand tightened his grip on your mind, controlling your muscles to stay perfectly still. He grinned, loving the power he held over you, before guiding his cock to your entrance once again. "Like this?"

"Well, I was thinking more leather ristraints, but this works," Cassian leaned into your neck, kissing and biting your neck.

The head of Cassian's cock pressed against you, spreading your folds apart, before sinking into your warmth. A groan escaped his lips as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

At the same time, Azriel aligned his cock with your lips, his tip pressing against your mouth. "Ready for me too, princess?" Azriel taunted, knowing you couldn't move on your own accord, as Cassian gave your ass cheek a firm slap making you gasp softly.

With a nod, Rhysand made you open your mouth, tongue poking out slightly for Azriel to push his cock in, as Rhysand began thrusting into your slick cunt, each movement controlled and calculated. His hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper within you, his balls slapping against your swollen clit with every powerful thrust.

Cassian's cockhead breached your hole beside Rhysand's cock, stretching you deliciously wide with both your cocks. He paused for a moment, savouring the sensation before beginning to push in. Inch by slow inch, he filled you, until finally he was buried to the hilt within your depths.

The sensation of having two cocks inside you at once was overwhelming, your body stretched beyond what felt natural, yet the pleasure was indescribable. Rhysand continued his relentless pace, groaning, his cock pistoning in and out of your cunt, while Cassian matched his movements, driving his own cock into your cunt. When one pulled out till the head the other pushed in completely

Azriel watched, fascinated, as you took his cock into your mouth, the sight of your lips stretched around his girth enough to make him throb with need. "Fuck… so beautiful," he breathed out, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper.

As if on cue, Rhysand and Cassian increased their pace, their bodies moving in sync with each other. The sounds of wet slaps echoed throughout the tent,

The cool touch of Azriel's shadows sent shocks of pleasure straight to your nipples. They rolled and pinched your breasts, drawing moans from your throat, which vibrated around Azriel's shaft. The shadows also found your clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bud, driving you closer to the edge.

Cassian's tongue danced across the delicate membranes of your wings, sending shivers down your spine. Rhysand and Cassian's cocks, coated in your juices and blood, slid in and out of your cunt with ease, the friction building towards an explosive climax.

Azriel's shadows continued their torment, tweaking your nipples and rubbing your clit in tight circles. The combination of sensations was too much to bear, and you felt yourself teetering on the brink of orgasm once more.

As Azriel pushed his cock further into your throat, you gagged, your eyes watering. But the sensation only spurred him on, his hips bucking forward to plunge even deeper into your mouth.

Rhysand and Cassian didn't hold back either, their thrusts becoming erratic and uncontrolled as they chased their own release. Their cocks pounded relentlessly against your inner walls, each stroke hitting spots that made stars burst in your vision.

The pressure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap. Your body tensed, your cunt clenching around the two cocks impaling you, and then you came, screaming and choking around Azriel's cock as waves of pure bliss washed over you, slightly snapping out of Rhysand's control before he held you again.

With a roar that reverberated through the tent, Rhysand buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hot seed spurting into your womb. At the same time, soon after Cassian grunted, his cock twitching as he released his load, coating your insides with his cum.

As Rhysand and Cassian's orgasms triggered your sudden third, you clenched around them, milking every last drop from their spent cocks. Then, just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Azriel's cock pulsed in your throat, his cum flooding your mouth.

With their releases spent, Rhysand and Cassian slowly pulled out of your dripping cunt, leaving trails of their combined fluids running down your thighs. They both panted heavily, their eyes locked onto you with a mix of satisfaction and lust.

Meanwhile, Azriel gently pulled his cock from your mouth, smirking down at you with pride. "Damn, princess… You really know how to handle us."

As the afterglow settled over you, Rhysand wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. "I think we've broken our poor little darling," He teased, nuzzling into your neck.

Rhysand slipped out of your mind, and you sighed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Rhys?" You gasp softly.

"Yeah, love?" He whispered with a smile as Cassian and Azriel left you alone for a moment, Cassian discarding her bloody dress, Azriel getting a new one.

You look up at him, your eyes still glazed over from the hold he had taken of your mind, "I really liked that."

"You enjoyed being our plaything?" Rhysand chuckled, his voice low and husky. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "I'm glad to hear that, my sweet." He kissed you deeply, before winnowing a glass of water for you to sip from.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into your eyes, a glint of mischief twinkling in his own. "But don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from."

You nod, tired, "Sure…"

Rhysand smiled, with a wave of his hand cleaning you and the bloody mess around you, spelling you to not bleed everywhere further, "Get some sleep dear, I'll be here when you wake up."

With a content sigh, you curled up against Rhysand, feeling utterly sated and exhausted. Your eyes grew heavy, and before long, you were fast asleep, your dreams filled with erotic images of the night's events.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch}

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven a Benjicot (davos) Blackwood x Targaryen Oc Fanfiction

Davos (Not Bloody Ben, but the fandom likes him) Blackwood has a hold of me! So I decided to FanCast the actor Kerian Burton as Benjicot in the fanfiction of Benjicot Blackwood/ OC Targaryen. I hope you all enjoy. (Can also be found on A03 under the same title.)

Disclaimer: I am rusty on my writing, so please, I ask for kindness when reading; remember, this is written in good fun, and because I am keeping hope, Kerian is brought back as an actual Benjicot!

Keep up with the story: masterlist

“House Blackwood and House Bracken have engaged each other, which is being called the first battle of the war, the Battle of Burning Mill.”

Stated Maester Gerardys as everyone in the throne room sat in tense silence, looking at their Queen. Queen Rhaenyra looked back at her council, knowing how at state this battle had come. The realm is officially at war, on one side, the Blacks and the other Greens. House Blackwood had declared for her, while Bracken for her usurper of a brother. On the other side of the war table stood Prince Jacaerys with his younger sister, Princess Aemma, while Jacaerys was born with brown hair and eyes. Aemma was graced with Velayron's white hair, although not as coily but with looser curls like her mother’s, with violet eyes and a slight tan to her skin. Her face was uncanny to her namesake, so much that her kingly grandsire wept when he first held her. She was the proof that her mother and father, Laenor Velayron, could produce heirs to the realm and dissuade any rumors from the greens… that was until her beloved brother Luke was born.

 Aemma knew what this meant; if House Blackwood and Bracken had engaged, each declaring to be fighting for either faction, there was no turning back; war was here. Aemma snapped out of her thoughts to her mother, asking about the casualties. 

“Both sides have suffered significant losses, my Queen. Samwell and Davos Blackwood, as well as Amos Bracken, have all fallen,” Gerardys explained, his voice carrying the weight of the news as he rummaged through his notes. 

“Benjicot Blackwood, Davos’s Twin Brother, is now Lord of Raventree Hall, and he has reaffirmed his father’s and brother's claim of declaring as you Queen Rhaenyra, the true ruler of the seven kingdoms.” 

“House Blackwood has excellent numbers for soldiers; this will benefit our cause, your Grace. Once Prince Daemon takes Harrenhall and has House Blackwood stationed there, the rest of the Riverlands will soon follow to showcase our true power to the greens.” 

Aemma’s grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, stated as she entered the throne room. Rhaenys paused at Aemma to grace her with a smile and a quick hug before sitting beside her mother. Aemma noticed the lack of greeting towards her brother, remembering that she was their grandmother’s favorite among her mother's children. Most likely, it was due to looking the closest to Ser Laenor. 

Nevertheless, Jace did not seem to notice, “We should thank them, Mother, to show them how much we appreciate their support,” exclaimed Jace before continuing. “I will go to Raventree hall personally, and -” 

“No! No, Jace, I need you here as my heir,” rebuffed Rhaenyra. Aemma’s heart pulled, knowing ever since Luke, their mother has been grieving and fearing that more of her children will be taken from her. That is why she had made the difficult decision to send Joffery, Aegon, and Viserys to the Vale. Ensure the youngest are safe from the horrors this war is to bring. 

“We will send a raven thanking Lord Benjicot for his pledge. Now, is there anything else that we need to discuss today?” 

The lords all scanned each other before shaking their heads no. With that, each stood and left the hall individually, leaving only Jacaerys, Aemma, Rhaenys, and Rhaeynra in the room. 

“Rhaeynra, what Jace said is true; we should show appreciation to House Blackwood, especially after they lost so much for our case,” argued Rhaenys while Rhaeynra looked down and played with her rings, showing off her nervousness. 

“We will, as I stated, a raven will be sent to them and-” 

Aemma moved forward to her mother, “ Muna, as much as that is a good idea, I feel a simple raven will not be enough. If Jace cannot go, then let me.” 

Rhaeynra stood up from her seat and took Aemma's face into her hands while shaking her head. 

“ Absolutely not; I will not be sending you, my pearl, where Aemond or worse, Aegon can capture you… my heart will not be able to take it.” Whispered Rhaeynra, tears welling up in her eyes. 

Aemma closed her eyes and exhaled. She understood her mother’s worry, but she had the blood of the dragon and is the rider of Sliverwing, Good Queen Alyssane’s previous mount.  She was raised by the Rouge Prince and the Queen who Never Was. She knew how to fight; how could her mother expect to find more allies if she hindered her decisions due to her fears? 

“Muna, I am the princess of blood. We need to bring in our allies. It's true that Jace is your heir and needs to be by your side. So let me be the protector of our family and invoke the creed of Belon the Brave. If our allies, especially House Blackwood, see that someone is personally sent to thank them for their support, they will never have thought of betrayal in their minds.” Soothed Aemma as she took her mother's hands into her own—Violet staring at Violet. 

Aemma could see her mother wavering, for Rhaeynra knew her daughter’s words speak truth. Her daughter had a natural charm inherited from her father, but behind those sweet words and charming smiles hid the cunning nature her daughter had learned from Daemon. Aemma was indeed both Leanor and Daemon’s daughter. 

Rhaeynra sighed before nodding, “Very well, Aemma, you will go to Raventree Hall with my message, food, and medical supplies to help replenish House Blackwood… Please be safe.” 

Princess Aemma bowed to her mother and left to ready herself and Silverwing for the Journey. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon reaching RavenTree Hall, Aemma wanted to weep; as she walked around, so many bodies littered the hall to be prepared for burial. Aemma stopped at a lanky young man with brown hair, his face covered with blood, wearing proudly the red and black colors similar to her own house. Looking at him made Aemma want to cry; he reminded her so much of Lucerys, her sweet brother taken from them by her kin-slaying uncle. 

“ Davos Blackwood, my princess.” 

Broke Aemma’s staring, as she flushed with embarrassment at being caught staring, which could be seen as rude, especially her being a guest. Aemma turned to its owner's husky yet shy voice and breathed sharply as she stared at the young man before her. Who looked almost exactly like the young man she was just staring at. 

The young man was looking down at the body for a second before raising his sight to Aemma and bowing to her before speaking again.

“That is Davos Blackwood… he... he was my twin brother.” Aemma realized now that Benjicot Blackwood was speaking quietly with great sadness as she could again relate, her wound of losing a dear brother being opened again. 

Aemma could only give a small smile in hopes of soothing the ache as she greeted the newly appointed lord of Raventree Hall. 

“Lord Benjicot, my mother and I thank you for receiving me into your home, especially in this trying time; I wish to express sorrow for the loss of your father and twin brother.” 

She could see more and more people stopping to stare at her and Benjicot, wanting to hear their conversation. Benjicot himself returned a shy smile to the princess. 

“Thank you, my princess-”

“Aemma.” Stated the princess before continuing, “ You may call me Aemma, but I fear I will grow tired of hearing ‘my princess’ so much.” 

Benjicot stared at Princess Aemma for a second before changing his smile to more of a smirk. 

“Very, Aemma. Thank you for your condolences. I ask you to call me Benji or Ben. It seems only fair.” 

Aemma returned her smile, feeling more confident than before, and returned to staring across the hall. Benji followed her sight, seeing his twin in the masses and understanding that the princess truly understood his pain. For she also had lost a father and brother. With a newfound ease, he asked the princess to join him for a tour of his hall, not wanting to be stared at by his people and not wanting to stay too close to his brother, for it hurt too much to look at him still. Asking for an arm to be hooked around his, he began his tour around the hall. As they walked out of the hall, Benjicot was greeted with a Dragon’s Shrill and a laugh that sounded as sweet as wind chimes. Turning, he saw Princess Aemma unhook her arm from him and gracefully sprint to her dragon, Sliverwing. Weary of the dragon, he soon followed the princess and came close enough to hear her speaking High Valyrian. 

“Lykiri, issa dōna hāedar,” Aemma whispered as she petted her dragon, knowing Benji was staring at her. 

What she didn’t see was the awestricken face Benjicot had. He had always heard Valyrians were considered higher to men and closer to gods. He never really believed it until now. The Princess, still in her riding leathers and loosely braided pale white hair, seemed like a beautiful warrior angel. She was known as the Pearl of the Realm for a reason. When Aemma turned to him, Benjicot could not help but feel his cheeks blush as those violet bejeweled eyes stared at him. 

“Have you ever come into close contact with a dragon before?” Asked Aemma, although she already knew the answer. 

Benjicot shook his head no, “ Never, my princes- um, Aemma.” He quickly caught himself as Aemma graced him with another laugh. 

“Would you like to? Come meet my Silverwing.” Aemma took hold of his hand and pulled him closer to her until her body flushed to his as she raised their intertwined hands to Sliverwing’s snout. 

The She-dragon huffed at the unfamiliar scent near her princess before calming to the soothing voice. 

“Shh, Sliverwing, Lykiri, sweet one, we mustn’t scare away our host.” Whispered the princess; she guided Benjico’s hand to rub her snout. At the same time, she was using her other hand to soothe the dragon to be calm. 

In awe of touching a dragon, Benji asked, “What does that mean… lykiri? 

Aemma giggled at his accent while saying the High Valyrian word and turned to him, unbeknownst how close her face was to his: " It means to be calm or calm down. I must say how impressed I am with your bravery in being so close to a dragon, my lord.”  

Benjicot, in turn, winked at the princess before teasingly replied, “Only because I have the Realm’s Pearl guiding me, and I thought we agreed to skip our titles, my princess.” 

Aemma blushed at the teasing and realized how close they were to each other; just a slight lean, and they could kiss. Benjicot had a certain attractive charm; he had a boyish charm to his face, but a devilish smirk and his lanky build helped him appear taller. Aemma's musing was quickly cut short with a slight cough, and Aemma’s face flushed bright red as she and Benji quickly separated each other to see a Queensguard sternly looking at the pair. 

Aemma, embarrassed, quickly schooled herself before returning to business, much to the brief disappointment of Benjicot. Alas, he knew better. She was the crown princess; he was just a lord, not even lord paramount. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the food and medical supplies she and her dragon brought to his land and people. If his house continued to support Queen, which they would, they would need the support to replenish themselves after the battle with those lousy Brackens. Then, much to Aemma’s disappointment, Benjicot was called away to finish establishing himself as the new lord. Stating they would see each other at the feast later this evening. The Princess sighed but allowed her dragon to fly off while she was guided to her chambers to prepare for the feast. 

As she was walking, Her guard cleared his throat. “ Forgive me, my princess, as it may seem too forward of me, but your mother asked for you to come here to give a note of gratitude and supplies and return with loyal allies, not allies and a marriage proposal.” 

Aemma gasped in shock, “ Ser Lorent, that was hardly any grounds for a marriage proposal; my mother and I haven’t even had that discussion yet.” 

Then, a bit childishly, she slammed the door on her knight's face as she entered the quaint chamber. Sitting down on a chair in front of a mirror, Aemma began to unravel her braid and change her hairstyle to a more Valyrain-looking war braid. Her mind returned to Ser Lorent’s comment as she unraveled her hair. She indeed some took liberties from the Blackwood lord without thinking much of any consequences. Especially since she was of age to be married, which discussion has not come up because Lucerys' death took precedence. However, she knew she would have to marry sooner rather than later, mainly because of the war. She did not want to be used as a bargaining chip for allies, and she knew her mother would never force her. But the princess was not naive to think she had the liberty to marry for love. She previously thought of giving her hand to Cregan Stark as gratitude for being the first to support her mother. However, the cold was a little too much for her, and she couldn’t connect with the wolf of Winterfell, unlike Benjicot Blackwood, who had made her laugh more than twice about meeting him. Being married to him didn’t seem too bad, and she could still wear her Targaryen house colors. 

Quickly shaking her head from thoughts, she heard a knock on the door. Ser Lorent was right; she wasn’t here to make marriage proposals. As she opened the door, she was greeted by the lord of blackwood, who gave her a dazzling smirk and asked to escort her to the feast hall. That smirk caused her to flush; remembering her previous thoughts, Aemma tried to school her features before returning her smirk just like her kepa Daemon taught, but she knew she had failed when Benjicot chuckled. Instead of taking insult, she reveled, knowing that she had brought a laugh out of him. As they entered the hall, she could see many staring at her with awe, with a few looks of lust from the young men. She expected this, being given the name the Realm’s Pearl; she knew she was beautiful, but instead of letting it turn her vain, she always tried to make others see that not only did she have Valyrian beauty, but she was also a dragon rider warrior like those of Old Valyria. 

As the feast went on, Princess Aemma did her best to use her quick-witted charm to appease the people in the feast hall, although, like her kepa Daemon, after a while, she grew tired and wanted to breathe fresh air. After confirming with her knight, she quickly stepped out to catch the cool breeze when she heard whispers. Curiosity taking the best of her, she quietly walked closer, ensuring she would not be seen. There, she heard Benjicot's voice arguing with an older man and woman. 

“I understand my position, but it is hardly weak; I am the lord of House Blackwood, and if need be, my Aunt Alysanne is my heir. I do not need to marry so soon, especially if we are to join the queen to war!” Snared the new lord at the older gentleman. 

The older man sighed in annoyance, “ Yes, since we still follow the Old gods, there is nothing wrong with having Alysanne as your heir, but your position is not secured, my lord. Should you and your lady aunt perish, we risk losing our house to those craven Brackens. Being married will ensure your future wife carries your heir to secure the future of our house.” 

This only grew Benjicot more agitated, and replied angrily, “ I will not be a bargaining chip just to secure my house’s future, and I will not marry just to have my future wife feel like a broodmare.”  

Alysanne sighed, looking at both hotheaded men, and tried to intervene, “You and the princess seem to grow close. Why don’t you discuss with her any potential ladies she may have as her or her mother’s ladies-in-waiting? Therefore, you open up the discussion of marriage without feeling too drastic or rushed. While I remain as your heir?” 

Both men did not entirely agree with that plan, but it was better than anything they could try to agree with. Reluctantly agreeing, the three blackwoods moved back to enter the feast hall without noticing the princess. 

Aemma slowly returned to her seat; the newly appointed lord also had the same problem she would soon have, understanding their duty but not wanting to be a bargaining chip. The princess returned to her seat and took turns speaking with a few people before Princess Aemma decided it was time to read her mother’s letter as the feast continued. With two sharp taps of Ser Lorent’s sword on the table, the hall quieted as the princess addressed the people. She felt faint; she had never had to speak in front of so many people before, especially those who just lost family. With a quick scan of the room, she saw Alysanne Blackwood give a short, simple smile; then, her violet eyes locked on a certain dark-eyed lord, gracing her with his charming smirk, and gave a nod of encouragement. 

Exhaling, she opened her mother’s letter and began to read, “My good people of Raventree Hall, I thank you for welcoming my daughter, Crown Princess Aemma, into your home. As my heart grieves for the loss of Burning Mill, I want to express my gratitude for your honor and loyalty to me as your queen. My mind is at ease knowing I have such loyal subjects, and with your help, I know we can take back my birthright from the green false king. To show my gratitude, I have sent my daughter on her dragon to bring supplies and food to help replenish House Blackwood. With her dragon, she will lead and guard the able soldiers to Harrenhall, where Prince Daemon, the Knights of the Vale, and the men of the North will eagerly await you. You all have my utmost respect and gratitude, your Queen, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the realm.” 

As Aemma finished her mother’s letter, she started hearing applause and cheers for her mother, which swelled her heart to see people genuinely supporting her. Looking back at Benji, she could see him smiling and nodding in approval, which only made her think back to the conversation she overheard. After a moment, she raised her hand to still the cheers, and people quieted down, wanting to hear what the princess had to say next. 

“I thank those here today for coming out and supporting my queen. My heart is filled with the warm welcome I have received here at Raventree Hall. To know such fierce and loyal people are willing to fight for my mother, your queen, fills my heart with gratitude-” 

Someone in the back stood up and cheered, “To Queen Rhaenyra and Her Crown Princess, The Realm’s Pearl Aemma Velayron!”  

Prompting more to stand and cheer, the princess let the people cheer and then, after a while, again asked for quiet. 

“I thank you all for your cheers. To show my gratitude for everything, I propose, should your Lord Blackwood accept, my hand for marriage to create a strong and secure alliance between Houses Targaryen, Velaryon, and House Blackwood.” 

Gasps were heard all over the room, and a sharp clank from her knight's sword fell to the ground, but all of that did not matter because the princess only wanted to hear and see one reaction. That of Benjicot Blackwood, who stood up to meet his princess gaze as his smirk fell off his face and slowly replaced with a genuine heartwarming smile, his eyes lighting up like they haven’t all night. He slowly walked to Princess Aemma, taking her soft, sunkissed hands to his, staring at her doe-like violet eyes, and kissing her hands. 

“It would be my honor to be your husband, my dear princess,” he whispered as her smile grew, knowing she had made the right decision. 

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Nūmioītsos

19/12: Future & Face Sitting - Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.5k~ | Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, oral (f receiving), prince regent aemond A/N: This is in the Pearl of The Realm Universe!

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

It's something he'd dreamt of, but never really envisioned. Perhaps he'd never allowed himself to. With Aegon severely wounded by dragonfire, the conqueror's crown would no longer sit atop his head with ease, so now it sat on his.

It was lighter than he imagined it would be. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He was not King. But it was the closest he'd ever be to it.

The aura was strange at the Dragonpit, very much akin to Aegon's in that sense. 

He remembered standing beside Helena as she'd pressed her lips together and curtseyed before her brother-husband, who had become her king and made her his queen. Remembered how she had that distant, forlorn look in her pale violet eyes. Like she knew hardships were coming.

And as Aemond turned to his little pearl to see what expression she wore, he felt his heart ache for her like he had done for his sister.

She was visibly nervous. Clasping her hands at her front, and squeezing for dear life. Her eyes were trained on the space before her, away from anyone else's. He could not blame her. She married a second son. Who would inherit nothing but a name.

She never expected this responsibility, and in a way, above the power that the crown gave him, he felt awful that he could not give his wife, who deserved the world, the peaceful, calm life she always expected.

Not a word was spoken between them, until they reached their chambers, and the doors shut with a heavy thud, like he wanted to shut out that feeling.

“I am sorry…” she whispered suddenly, standing in the middle of the room.

He was transported in his memory back to their wedding night, when she'd apologised, for maybe not being as pretty as he wanted her to be.

She had come a long way, but she still always apologised too much.

He saw her throat bob before she continued, “I could not find the right moment to tell you…”

“What is it, my love”, he replied softly, moving a waved strand of hair from her face with all the sincerity of a husband so irrevocably in love.

Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze, leaning slightly into his hand before she took his one hand in her two small ones, leading it flat to her stomach.

And then he understands.

Her nerves. Her silence.

She was terrified.

And with child.

His face softened instantly despite the incessant weight of the conqueror’s crown on his temples, his violet eye searched her nervous face, as if trying to see what she was thinking.

“I am frightened, Aemond…” she uttered quietly, her cheeks pink and lips pressed together, trying outwardly to stop herself from falling apart and becoming hysterical.

His hand almost entirely covered her belly and he sighed as he rubbed it lovingly, his child inside her made him feel all hazy on love.

“Afraid of what, wife?”

She swallowed thickly before she raised her head, “Afraid of…what this all means for us now,” she replied, her eyebrows arched in worry, “for our child.”

He understood entirely what she meant. And he saw her eyes close contently as his palm rested against her cheek, brushing her hair away, “Oh, my little pearl. I will not let anything happen to you, or our babe.”

When their gazes met, she knew she had nothing but her belief in him. She had to believe him. Though her eyes were moist, with tears rimmed in them with fear of their future, she gave him a gentle smile, choosing to put her faith in her husband entirely.

“I will not have you go to sleep crying”, he whispered, softly running the backs of his fingers over her cheek, seeing her nod weakly.

“Unless you are crying my name”.

She gave a watery laugh, a pleasant smile stretching on her delicate features. And when she met eyes with him again, the smile faded into a blush, finding that her husband was in no mood for shallow promises as his hand drifted from her stomach to that sensitive spot between her legs, even above her thick skirts, she felt herself become warm.

“I-I thought…lords did not lay with their wives if they were…”

Aemond smirked, quite forgetting the crown placed atop his head when he leaned down to lay open-mouthed kisses to her neck, making her shiver.

“It is fortunate that I am no lord then, little pearl”.

His words made a warmth sink between her thighs, clutching onto his doublet tightly like he might disappear in a moment.

She sighed, eyes slipping shut as Aemond kissed and marked at her neck, not noticing that Aemond’s deft hands were undoing the laces of her dress and prying each section apart. It was only when his warm hands chased the curves of her hips and back that she lifted her eyes to him again. 

“Aemond-”

“Hush - do you not wish to please your King?”

The words make her mouth go dry, a chill settling on the little baby hairs on her arms as he tugs the heavy dress off her, like he was desperate to see what was underneath. As if he had not seen her bare since the day they were wed.

He tugged her close to him as he sat on their bed, his face level with her breasts which he mouthed over lovingly, taking one of her nipples between his lips and suckling gently, both his hands tight on her hips.

“Aemond…”

He still loved that, the way she said his name so breathily and needy like that. 

He fought the urge to grin, teasing the stiffened bud with his warm tongue before trailing it to the other.

“Hm - Oh, little pearl, I can hardly wait to see you fat with child - and these so full…”

She gasped in pleasure, a warm feeling sinking to the apex of her thighs. 

And Aemond did grin widely when she squeaked with surprise as her husband laid back on the bed, pulling her on top of him, with her legs either side of his waist.

Being on top was not something she'd done before. And being entirely naked on top of her entirely clothed husband, makes her head spin dramatically.

“Aemond, I…I don't know-”

She shivered as his warm hands traced the outline of her body, “I have not seen that lost, blushing expression in so long, dear wife. Are you nervous?”

She nodded softly, her eyes looking away, wanting to cover herself but knowing that if she tried, it would only inspire him to tear her hands away from herself.

“My sweet, innocent wife…I only wish to taste you.”

Her eyes widen, “Aemond, I do not want to hurt y-”

“You will not hurt me. I want your cunt on my lips, now.”

She could feel her stomach flipping with nerves as Aemond guided her higher, her cheeks aflame with the idea that all this was arousing her in the most forbidden way.

“Relax..”

She could do about anything but relax as Aemond tugged her hips down, a high pitched moan slipping out when she felt his warm tongue part her slick folders and dive in, his moan vibrating through her core as he moved his lips with passion.

He hummed into her womanhood, his fingers sinking into her flesh to keep her flush down to his mouth as he feasted on her. He is sure he could spend forever between her plush thighs, almost forgetting the weight of the crown slipping from his moonlit head as he tasted his queen.

The crown almost slipped all the way off as he hand grasped his hair, her hips moving atop his tongue in micro-movements, “Gods - Aemond-”

With his one eye looking up at her body, he squeezed her thighs tighter, increasing his movements and shifting his tongue up to suckle at her bud, enjoying the way she moaned breathily and tipped her head back.

He happily sucked every bit of release that came from her as he felt her trembling atop him, her fingers tightening in his hair almost painfully as she rode out her high by fucking herself against his needy mouth, prolonging her sweet rapture by sliding his wet muscle through her quivering walls.

She jolted when he placed open-mouthed kisses to her sensitive cunt, his hands soothing where he'd been gripping at her.

Equally, she whined when he pulled his lips from her, looking down at him with flushed cheeks and dreamy, misty eyes. Her husband grinned up at her, as if in victory, the conqueror's crown laid upside down on the bed above his head from the effort of his lust.

She briefly worried she'd upset him by nudging the crown from his head.

And her heart thudded with excitement, as did his, when she leaned down, to place it back atop his head.

Aemond was sure, he had never been more hard in his life at that moment.

And he smirked with mischief as he leaned up, making her sit astride him, still trembling from her release, and unlaced his breeches. 

It may take all night, but gods, he'd make her feel like a queen by the end of it.

Like his queen.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

[tuxebo]

when water meets wine. | (pjackson)

the blessing of hera includes violet eyes and slightly elongated hair, which is easy to miss. also sensing emotions and using feathers as weapons aren't really useful to any capacity, neither is a blessing in marriage for a thirteen year old, the real blessing of hera comes in the goddess's intentions.

now, i'm not saying hera is a good person, far from it, but it's never bad to be a powerful person's favorite. from putting leo in a fire as a baby to tampering with percy and jason's memories and making them switch places, what if she did a little more.

being a child of one of hera's friends was the easy part, receiving the blessing was not. various challenges since the day you were born, think leo but worse. your father has found you rolled up in a hallowed out cabbage of lettuce in his green house, as if you grew from the seed; bundled in a blanket stuffed with atropa belladonna, the plant made you (an infant) fly for days much to your father's dismay. might i note, he couldn't take care of the sores you got because you were in the air.

none of this was normal. all of this only had one possible culprit, your mother. their poor relationship only grew more strained, her visits were nothing more than a screaming match. of course, there was another woman there to comfort you, someone you never told your dad about. you ran to her like a sheep to its shepherd, not realizing you were running to the very root of your problems. she was the dirty water to your seed, no good but water no less. her hands ran down your hair with a gentle smile, eyes boring into you with intentions you could never quite place.

when you got to camp, she disappeared. it was so strange, you began to believe it was all something you made up in your head to deal with the nightmares, until zeus pisses hera off yet agan.

before your mother even claimed you, you were invited to stay in hera's cabin — by the goddess of marriage herself. in hindsight, she probably might have killed you if you took up that offer. in other words, you denied it but did get punished for it once more. a child of demeter who killed everything they touched, how fitting.

furthermore, to be tasked as one of percy's peer mentors? a mockery.

blessed by hera and punished by her as well, you saw the world through violet eyes.

coincidently, the only thing percy jackson could remember were violet eyes. he thought those might've been his eyes, though his reflection told him that wasn't the case. no one had violet eyes but you, hera made sure of that. she knew the son of poseidon would stop at nothing to find that exact shade, even if he had no clue who you were (at least right now.) if there was someone, however, she paid off the mist to change the color when percy saw them.

when hera placed him in camp jupiter, everywhere he searched for those eyes. he became praetor, wanting to get an eagle's eye view to hopefully spot them. the closest he got to finding you was when he ran into aphrodite, the goddess with violet eyes. there was no way the only person he could think of, though, definitely not after talking to her.

when he was at camp, you taught him many things. even if he couldn't remember, plants came easy to him, which ones to steer clear of and which ones would give him exactly what he needed. you, daughter of a forester who was a former biochemist, taught him all this and it came to percy very naturally.

you were one of the demigods sent to retrieve percy, from camp jupiter. your (peer) metorship with percy earned you a spot on the argo ii, also hera but whatever.

once you were standing before the long line of curious roman demigods, and percy jackson, a gush of water pushes you forward and interrupts any thought you might have had. you were pushed into the son of poseidon's arms, much to everyone's (except hera's) confusion.

there must've been a dryer way he could've done that, at least.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :3934

You never set foot in King’s Landing before.

Not before the exile of your family almost a century ago.

The Marthryralys were once the most trusted advisors of the Targaryens. 

Until your ancestor, Daeyor Marthyralys sided with the false king, King Maegor. He had been burned after Maegor had died, and your family was banished out of King’s Landing, and the Seven Kingdoms. 

For years you lived across the narrow sea, in a small village in Pentos together with your brother and the heir of your house, Prince Fryand Marthyralys. He has everything you can expect in a trueborn Valyrian prince. Silver hair, bright eyes in a shade almost close to violet and a temper befitting a god, not an exiled prince.

‘’Chin up, sister.’’ He tells you with a smirk as you pass by several nobles and guards, servants and maids alike who all stare at you with judgment. They likely heard stories about your family. Stories of their treason and kinslaying murder and pillaging. ‘’Remember what I told you earlier this morning. Today is the day our family’s legacy will be reborn.’’ That is what he hopes. You hope your brother achieves this alliance. For as long as you can recall he wanted this.

Fyrand sighs before perfecting your hair, putting a loose lock behind your ears. “You be quiet unless I allow it. If you ruin this for me, the consequences could be dire. For both of us, but especially for you.” The glare he gives you says enough. You give an absent nod, staring at your own bitten down fingernails. Fyrand follows your gaze, scoffing with a deep sigh. ‘’And quit that. I didn’t keep you alive all these years so you can fuck this up.’’

The grant doors to the throne room are opened by guards and someone announces to you both as you hesitantly follow your brother. ‘’Lord Fyrand of House Marthyralys, and his sister, Lady Revaera of House Marthyralys.’’ It is one of the few times you hear yourself being called a lady, or even your first name. Fyrand does not bother with kindness and ceremony. He calls you whatever he likes, especially when he is drunk and in a bad mood.

By the throne, several people with silver hair wait. Yet you can easily divide them into two groups. One group wears subtle or not so subtle green accessories. And the other group wears about any other color but green. The Princess's party and the Queen's party. You know this from what Fyrand briefly told you about the Targaryens. The two parties do not like each other very much. Details are vague to you, as Fyrand didn’t want ‘’to corrupt your moral compass with nonsense that is none of your business anyway’’.

You know they are the royal family of Westeros. The Targaryens. Once close friends of your family, now look at you both. You do not know these people and they do not know you. They stare at you with the same confusion and questions you have deep down. You see it mirrored in their eyes and their hearts they carry on their sleeves. You keep your eyes on your soft slippers and faithfully remain close to your brother, afraid of these strange people. They killed your parents. They killed your ancestors. They killed your dragons. ‘’Your grace.’’ Fyrand speaks, full of servitude as he bows down for the silver haired corpse like man that sits the throne.

Or rather the throne sits him. The throne is a monstrosity in the worst way of the word. It does not look like a comfortable chair to you. Perhaps that is what it symbolizes. That ruling is no comfortable chair. It is not easy. It requires sacrifice, usually the worst kind. The kind where lives are lost and doomed.

The smell of poppy is heavy near the king and you assume he uses it regularly to dull his pain. He hangs half defeated, half consumed by the Stranger on his throne, his glare growing every minute that passes when you both are here. You continue ripping your nails subtly. 

‘’We let traitors in now?’’ A man comments, near who you assume can only be the Princess Rhaenyra. She is described as the most fashionable woman in Westeros, with silver, pale locks she often carries in Targaryen fashion. Her gown symbolizes a dragon, with her house colors, red and black. It has nice details and you take them all in. The man itself has shorter hair than his wife, although Fyrand would say it would still be too long for a male. He carries a sword around his hips, and wears a black armor as well. You guess by his age that this can only be Prince Daemon Targaryen, the King’s brother, the Princess’s her uncle as well as her husband. ‘’These two should be hanged outside and for the birds to peck out their eyes.’’

While you feel fear rise Fyrand laughs it off, as a joke.  The king is not so quick to judge you as his brother. He even smiles at you. ‘’You are the spitting image of your ancestor, Grysalda the Bold.’’ Out of both of you, he chose you to compliment.

Your brother boils in his skin next to you, yet fakes a smile and peacefulness.  ‘’Both fierce and stunning.’’ The King finishes. Grysalda was indeed both fierce and bold. She had a total of five husbands and flew the dragon Gravemaker. There was nothing she couldn't do if she didn't set her mind to it. She was said to be a great beauty. Men fought wars to lay eyes on her, Men conquered towns in her name and men would murder everyone that dared to oppose her. She was an interesting woman, although it is disputed whether or not she was a good one.

You make a small curtsy, swayed by the words yet wary of their meaning. Grysalda was a threat to the Targaryens. Is this a compliment or a very twisted warning? But to not acknowledge such a compliment would be rude. ‘’Thank you, your grace-’’ 

‘’Be quiet, sister.’’ Fyrand interrupts almost mumbling so the others won't hear. You close your mouth right away and let him speak instead. ‘’I have come with an offer for House Targaryen and House Velyaron.” He folds his hands on his back. You wonder if his offer is good enough for an alliance. You know what he will offer. You. He will offer you to one of the Princes of either party and he hopes that in return they will allow him to stay in Westeros.

Prior to this offer, no interest was shown by both parties. This changes instantly. Princess Rhaenyra turns into a woman dressed in Velyaron colors. Princess Rhaenys, you assume. Her granddaughters look on as well and even the Greens on the Queens side are surprised.

King Viserys sits up as straight as his sickness allows him. “You are bold.” You hear your brother laugh. You do not join him, your eyes constantly wandering to the interesting people around you. The princes and the princesses, the Queen and the King and their children.

‘’It is in our blood, I’ve been told by my lovely servants.’’ You think back of all the servants that nurtured you and Fryand when you were safely in Pentos and beyond. You are thankful for them, but there was only so much they could do to protect you from Fyrand. ‘’Since you ordered the death of my parents all those years ago.” Fryand smirks hiding the pain very well. The light in his eyes has died a long time ago. Nothing can bring it back.

The only sound that can be heard is Otto Hightower clearing his throat. “Are you here to dig up the past? I seem to recall your parents were planning my death.’’ The king is right. They were. You were almost a baby when the treason was committed but it was committed nonetheless. Your own mother died in childbirth and your father remarried quickly almost the day after.

You have known your brother for a long time. He is a dramatic man. He enjoys having power and enjoys playing with people. He will not tell them right away. He will toy with them first. ‘’I’m here for no such thing.’’ 

The Princess looks at you, as if you know more of this masterplan. You do, but you do not dare to speak again. ‘’I am here to ally my house with House Targaryen.’’ And with that, he hopes to restore your family’s legacy. All those years of planning in exile, all those years on the run all come down to this crucial moment. Was it enough? Or will you both hang before the sun sets?

‘’And why would we ally you?’’ The King asks, which is reasonable. They have dragons. You do not. They have a kingdom. You do not. You only have a freshly gathered army with questionable loyalties as they fight for gold and power.

Fyrand grins. ‘’It’s quite simple. I have built quite the legendary army, across the Narrow sea, in the Stepstones and far far beyond. Men are calling me Aegon reborn.’’ He grins at Prince Aegon, taunting him with this accomplishment. Aegon does not care, judging by his empty eyes and smile. 

You glance at your brother, giving him a clear look that warns him of the path he is rolling down from. He should not forget you two are both hostages until you can prove you are worthy of this alliance. To make him sound like their beloved ancestor is a mistake, you just know so. 

The king agrees with that as well, sitting up straighter and putting his crown back on his head when it slips. ‘’So you have come to threaten us?’’ 

You pull your nails faster, running out of your left hand. Fyrand chuckles but you can hear he has become nervous too. ‘’Your grace, no! Most certainly not. I came to a conclusion. I could destroy you all, but the chance you all yet survive because of your dragons is …too big for my liking. Why not forget about the past, why not let bygones be bygones. We should ally.’’ He says. 

‘’Bygones be bygones.’’ Viserys repeats after your brother. ‘’And how will I know I can trust your word, if you already have began expanding your army?’’ Even more wary grows and dread fills your stomach. You can already see yourself hanging.

Fyrand gives you a small nod and you step forward, your hands neatly folded on one another as you look around the court for any kind face. But everyone looks at you like you are a traitor. It doesn't matter to anyone that you were a baby when the assassination attempts happened. They think you are just as guilty. ‘’I have brought my sister with me. My pure blooded Valyrian sister. She can stay here as a hostage, perhaps even marry one of your sons or grandsons. There is no need to have her wither away.’’ 

The king rubs at his forehead as if a great pain plagues him. ‘’I do not have time for this.’’ He speaks. You and Fyrand both freeze. He is not even considering your offer. ‘’Escort them to the dungeons.’’ He adds. Fyrand is surrounded within mere moments. 

At first he couldn't believe it. ‘’What?’’ He can’t believe his plan didn’t work. And then the rage you know so well returns. He glares at you as if this is somehow your fault. 

You understand you must act fast. So you do. ‘’Y-Your grace! Wait. One moment…’’ You search in the basket one of your servants brought with you. Fyrand glares, at first annoyed that you search your sewing basket. A few men chuckle as well. 

‘’Is she going to knit her way out of this?’’

You put the wool and spools on the ground, searching deeper in the basket until you feel something cold, something hard and something ancient. You lift it from the basket, presenting it to all witnesses in court. In your hands is a familiar dragon egg. The king blinks with his eyes.

‘’Please, do not harm him. He has all I have left.’’ You add with a soft whisper.

‘’We found a chest full of dragon eggs in Pentos.’’ You hope you do not regret this. Fyrand makes a strangled little sound, briefly causing most heads to snap to him, back to the egg in your hands.

Prince Daemon draws his sword. ‘’Likely dead.’’ They might be. Most might be. Some eggs are centuries old, stolen during the time of Maelor.

You are facing certain death and so is your brother. You do not need this now. ‘’We did not have the resources to try to hatch them. We are no Targaryens.’’ You snap at him. ‘’We were lucky if we could find shelter for the night.’’ 

‘’How many eggs do you speak of?’’ The king asks. You did hope he would be interested. He is interested in dragon eggs. What fool wouldn’t be? You glance at your brother. He shakes his head rapidly.

Yet you go through with your plan. You must.

‘’At least seven and twenty.’’

Several gasps can be heard in the room.

Queen Alicent looks at the egg. ‘’’How did they even got there?’’ She wonders out loud.

A shout sends shivers down your spine. It belongs to your brother.

‘’I warn you, Revaera!’’ He thinks he is the only one who can make sacrifices. You will show him. 

You can either lie and be executed or tell the truth and meet your gods with a true soul.

‘’They were stolen from the cradles of Targaryen babies.’’ You reveal, your head hung in shame with the crimes of your ancestors. Queen Alicent instantly turns her head to a young man on her side, wearing an eyepatch. Even from where you stand you can make out the scars that he likely tries to hide. Princess Rhaenyra, although she may hide it, also glances at the young man, her face full of regret and what could have been.

It is true. For centuries your family stole eggs from the Targaryens, replacing well working eggs with eggs that aren’t working eggs at all. Just stone and clay. You walk to the iron throne, presenting the egg to the king. ‘’This egg, I brought for you, my King. It was stolen a few years ago. It was said to belong to Prince Baelon.’’ You know he died shortly after birth but it is clear that the king has never forgotten his first born son.

His eyes light up in ways you never saw before, as you hand the egg over.

‘’This is impossible. The egg is still here. It is in my room.’’ The Queen lets out a soft but painful sigh as if she tried for years to close a door that is now pushed open wildly. You speak. ‘’No, your grace. They were switched. You have likely fake ones.’’ 

‘’After everything I did for you! You dare betray our family?!’’ Fyrand shouts and this time they need to restrain him from attacking you. You back away, terrified of your brother.

‘’They deserve to know! We were robbing babies.’’ You feel like you are betraying your family. But this might be your only chance at survival. You feel tired, alone, terrified and like this can all end in a moment. You have nothing left to do but break into tears.

‘’They are the reason we grew up without parents, without titles, without dragons!’’

You know he is right. And you wish you could do both but you clearly can not. 

From the crowds, a brown haired young man steps forward, carrying the Velyaron colors. The colors of the sea. ‘’Grandsire, may I speak?’’ That must be Jacaerys Velyaron, the Princess’s ‘trueborn’ son with her lover, Harwin Strong.

The king smiles kindly at his grandson, proud that Jacaerys makes the effort.

‘’You already do so, Jacaerys.’’ He subtly looks at his other two sons, who stand by with rage written in their eyes, both green of envy and red of hatred.

Prince Jacaerys looks at your basket, your gown and the silver diadem in your hairs.

‘’We should ally with them.’’ He says. Hope fills your chest as you carefully start to smile.

Although the King loves his grandchildren very much, he will not let them affect his rule.

‘’Interesting. Explain.’’ He says instead, using this as a lesson. Again you notice his other two sons hide their displeasedness but it's so obvious to you.

The heir of the throne continues.

‘’House Targaryen needs more dragons. We can’t risk it that House Marthryralys will search for other allies. Dragons made us kings. Dragons made us strong. We cannot risk for the dragons falling into other hands.’’ You highly doubt that anyone aside a Targaryen could fly with dragons but with the blood thinning over several bloodlines it has become a risk to them.

‘’That is true.’’ The king admits despite the fact that he does not like you or your brother. He can see reason. That is rare for a king. Especially for a Targaryen king if what you heard from your brother is correct.

Prince Jacaerys becomes bashful, blushing a bit when trying to avoid staring too long at you. ‘’And, I think Lady Revaera has proven herself more than loyal to us, providing this information and the dragon egg. In fact, I was hoping you’d let us marry.’’ Marry? You feel new dread fill your chest as the King considers this offer. Even Fyrand has become awfully quiet. You need to turn your head to see if they didn’t knock him out. But no. He is still awake and awfully quiet.

‘’Not so fast.’’ A voice booms, as a shadow brushes past you, making his way to the Iron throne. The one eyed man stands in front of you. You feel threatened right away and gulp. The way he is dressed in all black is intimidating to you. ‘’I have done my fair bit of research into your family, my Lady.’’ You hear your heart beat only louder.

‘’You have?’’ You manage to ask, forcing your hands to stop trembling.

There is a silence in the throne room as everyone listens to what he has to say.

‘’Quite. You have an interesting story. I like interesting stories.’’ What is so interesting, you wouldn’t know. Your story is a tragedy. Perhaps he likes that. Perhaps his own story is a tragedy as well.

He turns to his father, and you briefly admire his long luscious looking silver pure locks that Jace clearly lacks. ‘’There is an old tradition, Grandsire. If an outsider wants to wed a member of the Marthryralys, he must duel a family member of the Lady to prove his worth.’’ That is true, in theory. But Your only family member is Fyrand. They won’t let their heir fight Fyrand.

And so, the king also speaks.

‘’I will not have Jacaerys fight that deranged man.’’ 

Aemond folds his hands on his back, his grin growing ever bigger. ‘’There is also another rule. If the Lady has multiple suitors, her suitors shall also fight for her and prove their worth. The victor shall become her Lord Husband.’’ You become uncomfortable, as you find it a bit of a silly rule, as well as concerning that he knows a awful lot about your family. 

‘’Why is that needed? I want to marry her.’’ Jace bluntly says, laughing a bit to prove how silly he finds these traditions that your house honored for centuries.

Aemond looks at Jacaerys so he can see his face before he reveals what he was planning all along. ‘’Because I am also quite interested in her, Prince Jacaerys.’’ That sends shivers down your spine.

The King is confused. As are you.

‘’You are?’’ 

Instead of addressing his father and his king, he turns to you to give you a kind, almost the ghost of a smile as if he can hear you think and read your confusion that is written across your face. ‘’Hm. A lady as beautiful as you, I’d fight or die for you anyday.’’ Despite these words he almost seems confident he will win this match. 

–

You visit Fyrand later in the dungeons.

‘’So.’’ He speaks as you have removed your hood. ‘’The Princes both seemed quite taken with you. Job well done.’’ He says, sitting up straighter, talking to you in high Valyrian so the guards won’t hear.

‘’They are eager for wives. It’s their age, I think.’’ Boys and men of that age become that way.

Fyrand chuckles as if you said something funny. He knows more about this than you ever will. ‘’Their age has nothing to do with it. They saw the way you played that fossil with that silly little egg of yours. They know their house is a dying one. The dragons become smaller and smaller still.’’ You heard the same, from your spies.

‘’You were clever, to think of it. To tell them the truth about the eggs.’’ You praise your brother, although you were scared in the moments where you acted out his plan. You had to turn off your emotions and believe that Fyrand would face certain death. 

He bows his head in fake humbleness that does not become him in the slightest.

‘’Certainly. I have my moments. I nearly saw Prince Aemond drool when you presented that egg to that corpse.’’ You bet he did.

You become uneasy as you think of the one-eyed prince.

‘’He scares me.’’ You hope it is enough to call off the wedding part of the alliance.

But instead of that your brother’s smile only grows.

‘’Hm. He should. He is much to be scared of, little sister.’’

He leans in closer, his face close to the bars. ‘’There are rumors he tried to kill his own nephew. He is quick to anger, slow to forgive and has the biggest deadliest dragon in the entire world.’’ You hope he is lying. He has to be. He is describing a true monster.

‘’Aemond will win this duel.’’ He adds, as if it's clear.

‘’How are you certain?’’ Perhaps because Aemond is taller or older or something else you do not see?

He laughs as if you again ask a silly question.

‘’Because I saw both him and Jace fight. It won’t be to death, but just so you know: You will become Aemond’s bride.’’

A terrifying prospect. You did not agree to that.

‘’I thought we would pull the plan before that would happen?’’ You ask, your voice scared.

‘’No, little sister no. This is a long time plan. You just focus on keeping and making Aemond a very happy husband, yes?’’ You feel your air cut off at his horrible description. You see Aemond’s hands on your body and his lips near your neck, slightly brushing it when whispering dirty things in your ear. 

Despite that, your body betrays you lie. ‘’Fyr, I’m scared. I do not wish to-’’ You wet your lips, speechless.

Your brother dryly gestures with the stomp that once had a hand attached to it.

‘’We all must make our sacrifices.’’ He says. You feel guilty. He lost his hand trying to get you to safety. He lost it defending the eggs.  He smiles as you silently cry, accepting your fate. ‘’Now go. I bet they are itching to spill each other’s blood.’’

As always with a new story let me know what you thought of it. Comments reblogs likes are welcome but not required. But they do make me smile:)

[silverwingxox]

But A Boy - Aemond Targaryen

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Targaryen!Reader

Warnings : Angst, mentions of murder, mentions of death, HOTD incest

Summary : Aemond gets a reality check and reader choses a side.

AN : my first one shot, rubbish but enjoy<3<3<3

She ran through the halls of The Red Keep, her sworn sword Ser Arryk Cargyll running behind her to keep the princess within his line of sight, She was a fast runner to say the least, easy to loose track of with his armour weighing him down.

"Princess please!" Ser Arryk called out helplessly, knowing full well that the young woman wouldn't pay him any mind, continuing in pursuit of her elder brother who had just returned from Storm's End. She had to know if the rumour was true, if her beloved brother had turned into a kinslayer.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors to Aemond's chamber, the young princess barged in, not caring if she was announced or not.

"Is it true?" (Y/N) panted, trying to regain her breath.

Aemond didn't bother to look up from the map of Westeros on his table, opposite the large roaring fire. Keeping his eye sight locked onto the aging map, his shoulder's tensed.

"I think you need to be a bit more specific sister."

Storming over to Aemond, (Y/N) pushed at his side, causing the older boy to stumble back a step at her force, his eye still downcast, (Y/N) grabbed her brother's chin harshly turning his face to her own.

"Did...Did you kill Luke?" The princess whispered, tears forming in her beautiful violet eyes, Aemond slowly brought his hands up to his beloved sister's neck, cupping her face, He pursed his lips before speaking. He knew (Y/N) had formed a bond with Rhaenyra and her bastard sons, Aemond had absolutely no idea why. (Y/N) had always been closest with Jacaerys and he hated it. He would always remember when the three of them were younger, how she would go out riding Silverwing and Jacaerys would ride Vermax. How she would leave him behind to be picked on by Aegon and Lucerys.

"I didn't know he would be there." Aemond muttered, as if it excuse his actions. (Y/N) gasped, her eyes wide. The one eyed prince was quick to try to comfort his sister.

"I didn't mean for this to happen. I promise you (Y/N)..." The Princess tried to push her brother away from her, but it was useless, his grip too tight on her for the woman to be able to get away from him.

"How..how could you? He is but a child Aemond! You told me you wouldn't seek vengeance, you promised me! He took your eye so you took his life! We were both there that night Aemond, we both know you deserved it!" Tears fell from (Y/N)'s eyes as she began to scream at her brother.

Hearing his sister's words, Aemond pushed her away from him at such a force, the young princess fell back on to the cold stone floor.

"I didn't do anything wrong! I was attacked!" Aemond raised his voice in self defence, the one eyed prince starting stalking up and down his chamber, his blood beginning to boil. How dare his sweet sister say such spiteful words, how dare she defend his bastard nephew.

He honestly didn't mean to kill Lucerys...only frighten him, maybe injure him a little, but he didn't mean to kill him. The prince had lost control of his dragon who lost herself in the thrill of the chase. Vhagar would not obey and took down both his nephew and his dragon in one bite, tearing Arrax's wing from his tiny body. Aemond wouldn't admit it to his sister but killing Lucerys was an accident.

"Aemond...you must realise they will want revenge, they will come after us! Aegon already sits on Rhaenyra's throne and now you have killed Luke...Daemon will not let this slide." (Y/N) still sat on the floor, looking up at Aemond, still wearing a horrified expression.

She loved Luke, unlike her two elder brother's, she enjoyed the company of the Velaryon boys, they were always so nice to her. She had many fond memories with them and her half sister Rhaenyra, she brought a hand to her chest, over her heart thinking of the pain her elder sister must be going through at the loss of a child.

"I'm not scared of Daemon, he should be the one to fear me!" Aemond shouted as he walked over to his sister, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up from the ground with a tight grip that would surely leave a bruise.

"Why would Daemon fear you? You are but a boy." (Y/N) stated, her voice deadly calm, her eyes not leaving Aemond's, she knew her brother was quick to anger, but she didn't care. He needed a reality check and she would be just the person to give it to him.

(Y/N) was never afraid of her brother, he had always been kind and protective over her, he would whisper the sweetest things into her ear when he would sneak into her chambers after supper, he would leave soft kisses down her stomach as he prepared to make love to her throughout the night, he would hold her tight come morning when the sun has barely risen in the sky. 

Aemond had always been soft, gentle and caring when it came to his beloved sister so what reason would she have to fear him? 

“I ride the largest dragon in the world, Daemon has every right to fear me.” Aemond stated as a fact. (Y/N) shook her head, her long wavy hair falling into her face as she did so, the prince pushed the fallen strand and tucked it behind her ear softly, his face softening as he took in (Y/N)’s face. 

“I know you’re scared, but I will protect you.” Aemond moved his head forward, aiming to press his lips against (Y/N)’s soft plump one’s. However, the princess moved her head, Aemond’s lips landing on her cheek. 

“I don’t need your protection. Nor do I want it.” (Y/N) stated before turning away from her brother, heading towards the large oak doors. Aemond took in her retreating form, dread and confusion filled his senses. 

“Where are you going?” Aemond asked, remaining in the same spot. (Y/N) turned as she opened the door, looking at her brother one last time, taking in every bit of him. Memorizing his features.

"Dragonstone."

[goddessofmischief]

      QUESTION...? - YOUNG SHANKS X READER

A/N: this is part of this series, which requests are open for! These fics are all one-shots, so they can be read separately.

If he was being honest, Shanks had thought about that kiss many times. The first kiss, his and yours.

It had never since been repeated. It had never since ever been mentioned, so repeating was certainly off the table. He had many kisses since, with many others, but none the same, and none quite as real.

Through it all, he had remained your closest friend. He, you, and Buggy had remained on Roger's crew, contented to stay on and learn for the time being. But tides had been changing as of late, Shanks knew. Roger had warned him of it himself.

He wondered where you might end up, if things fell apart, if their little family were to be separated. It was impossible to imagine you alone, but he was sure you were capable of it. You had never really needed him or Buggy.

...You certainly didn't need Buggy, at least.

Some nights, when he was being really honest, he imagined sailing away with you. Just you. Sure, he'd find a crew someday, but he wanted a couple years to see what life was like without one.

But that dream had died today, as today was the day he was introduced to your new boyfriend, Dracule Mihawk.

Shanks had a cursory knowledge of Mihawk that was far more extensive than he cared to admit. While the boys were only one year apart in age, Mihawk's extensive accomplishments far outranked Shanks'. Mihawk was already one of the world's greatest swordsmen.

How could he compete with that?

To be fair, Shanks was no slouch with a sword. It was hardly an insecurity of his. He was certainly one of the best, but he wasn't one of the greatest. And this shouldn't have mattered so much, anyway: It's not like you were in love with Dracule Mihawk entirely based on his sword skills.

No, you loved him for a thousand other reasons, all of which became dreadfully apparent to Shanks the moment Mihawk set foot on their ship.

He was polite, almost to a fault. He was cutting when it came off as clever. He had an utterly inescapable stare that made Shanks understand the meaning of the nickname 'Hawk-Eyes.' He was not a man, he was a force of nature, and Shanks felt terribly small beside him.

"So... what's your job?" Buggy asked. The three of them were seated in the dining room, waiting for dinner to begin.

"Gun for hire," Mihawk said calmly. "But only for the best."

"And... what's your intentions with Y/N?"

Mihawk stared him down. Shanks felt very grateful that Buggy had asked first.

"To marry her, of course."

Shanks almost choked on his drink.

Marriage? Really? That's what this was? It was too soon, it wasn't fair. He hadn't had time to do anything, he hadn't had time to even consider the full depth of his feelings for you. Mihawk was going to take you away, and he would never see you again.

"Marriage?" Shanks asked, trying to assume a jesting tone. "Isn't that a bit... sudden?"

"Well, yes," said Mihawk. "But I'm sure there's no one better for me, and I would hate to lose her."

"Ah... I understand what you mean." He understood it all too well.

You entered the dining room, and Mihawk rose to greet you. Shanks stood up, too, whacking Buggy on the shoulder to get him to stand.

You looked beautiful... of course... and completely in love. He didn't know someone else's joy could cause him so much suffering.

Mihawk handed you a drink - the rim was covered in dried flowers, he'd forgotten you liked them so much - and the liquid was a violet color.

"You remembered," you whispered to Mihawk with affection, and he merely smiled. Coward. If you'd spoken like that to him he would have had the ring out already.

The four of you turned to face the door again, as a sound like thunder echoed from the outside-

But Shanks knew it was only his adopted father's footsteps.

"Mihawk, is it?" said Gol. D. Roger appraisingly, looking the boy up and down.

"Yes, sir, it is."

"What do you do to survive, Mihawk?"

"Whatever I like."

Shanks wasn't quite sure how Roger felt about this answer - please hate it - until Roger began laughing uproariously.

Damn it.

Was this how mutiny felt? It seemed like it was one, sitting at that table, watching all those happy people conspire over futures he wouldn't be part of. He felt like a ghost, like he'd already died, like everything was too little, too late. He didn't blame you - how could he? you had done nothing wrong - but still, his heart broke a little every time he saw you reach for Mihawk's hand.

"It was a nice dinner," you later said to Shanks, standing at the edge of the ship, while Mihawk and Roger sat stoically in silence inside. "Thanks for being there."

You held a cigarette, and he watched as you exhaled smoke across the water.

"Give it," he said, half-jokingly, and he took a puff as well. You stared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," you responded, holding your hand out and taking the cigarette back. But it wasn't nothing. The truth of it was that him standing there, tall as ever, with his dumb little necklace and dumb loose, white shirt... it made you remember how you'd felt for him during that kiss, years ago, all those feelings you'd tried to bury since.

Mihawk made sense. He was honorable, undeniably handsome, and clever. And it wasn't that Shanks wasn't these things - it was that Shanks had expectations set for him you couldn't possibly hope to live up to, and couldn't imagine following after.

He would be King of the Pirates. He would find the One Piece. You never doubted any of it. Everything Roger declared would someday become truth. This much was certain.

Could you handle that? It felt too much to bear, too big a weight to carry. Your love for Shanks - that's what it was, it was love - came second to Roger's aspirations for him and things the world needed him to do. He was a great man, he would do great things. And you had no place in any of it.

"You're lost in thought, it seems," Shanks prompted. You smile.

"Just thinking about Mihawk," you responded.

"You know, he... he told us he wants to marry you."

Your cheeks flushed red.

"I know," you spoke casually, even though you hadn't known. "He wants us to travel together, before he settles somewhere."

"But not now, right?"

"Maybe now."

"It can't be now!" Shanks said. "With everything going on? The World Government at our backs and Roger's health-"

"What do you know about that?"

"More than you know."

"I know quite a bit," you responded. "I'm the one who diagnosed him."

"Oh," said Shanks, trying not to let on how worried he was. "How long has he got?"

"A year. Maybe less." You puffed on the cigarette again. "He's said he wants to see us all happy, before he goes."

"That's not what this is about, is it? Please tell me that's not what this is about."

That was what this was about.

"You can't marry Mihawk just to make Roger happy! That's not what he wants!"

"How do you know what he wants?"

"He wants you to have adventures! He wants you to be one of the greatest pirates ever! He wants us..." Shanks became very quiet. "He wants us to stick together."

You held your breath. What you were about to say would disrupt all your lives: yours, Shanks, Buggy's.

"The Roger Pirates are disbanding next week, Shanks," you said. "I'm the only one who knows. Me and Rayleigh, and Roger. That's it."

Shanks stepped back, almost unable to comprehend what you'd just said.

"Oh," he said, unexpectedly somber. "And what happens then?"

"Then we go our separate ways," you said. "And Roger is going to turn himself in."

"To the World Government?"

"It's the only way. Or so he's said. I believe him."

Shanks sank down over the side of the railing, gripping the sides to keep himself from falling off. You watched him with concern.

"Can I ask you a question?" he spoke, softly.

You shrugged.

"Shoot."

He raised himself up far enough to make eye contact with you.

"Do you ever think about it?"

"What?"

"Us."

"...Oh," you said. "Us."

Behind you, Shanks paled, already waving off your answer.

"...It was just a question."

"I think of you all the time," you said, trying to avoid the full implications of such a question. "You're one of my best friends."

Shanks stared you down, leaning against the edge of the ship.

"That is not what I mean," said Shanks. "I think that you know."

You did know.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and placed your hands on his shoulders. He looked at you, unblinkingly.

"I can't," you enunciated, staring at his shoes before meeting his gaze. "I can't let there be an us."

"But there could be."

You needed to end this now.

Still clutching his shoulders, you bent your head past his face, lips brushing against his ear.

You knew you held his heart in your hands. You knew you were about to crush it.

"I need a man," you spoke carefully, "And you are still just a boy."

taglist: @sordidmusings@foggyturtleknightangel@twinklesnake@toertchen@96jnie@lunanight1021

[junipers-archive]

Flower Girls

Word Count: 650

Includes: flufffff, Spencer and you renew your vows, and your daughters Daisy and Violet are the flower girls!! (@radiant-reid i wrote it!)

"Mama do I get to hold the flowers?!" It was Daisy your six year old daughter chasing around your equally excited younger daughter Violet who'd just turned four.

"Yes honey and Violet's going to help you!"

It was almost time to get them changed into their dresses, and you were happy to find they were just as excited to relive the wonderful time that was wedding day as you were.

You and Spencer had decided to renew your vows for your ten year anniversary, especially since Daisy had made it clear how unfair she thought it was she wasn't alive to see the first one.

As you check your phone you find its already 10am and you had spent too long watching the girls run around the yard.

"Daisy, Violet! Come on, we gotta go get you two dressed!"

They both chase after you like you had promised ice cream, squealing.

"I get the pink one right mommy?" Violet's still developing her idiolect and pronounciation and you smile at how her voice swoops and cuts oddly as you enter your bedroom.

"Wait a minute I thought I got the pink one mama! what am I supposed to wear now?"

Daisy has discovered attitude which you blame completely on Spencer as he was the one to cause a scene when you took the last cookie from the tin a few weeks ago.

"Baby, you both got matching pink dresses remember?" You try to console her as she puckers her lips and scrunches her cute little eyebrows, looking remarkably like her father.

It isn't until you take out the dress in front of them that she begins to giggle.

In an hour you've dressed them both and have done their hair into little buns at the top of their heads per their request.

You're done as well, all that was left to do was meet at the beach, you and Spencer had considered a more formal option but seeing as it would've cost a fortune and time you don't have to plan it all you'd gone with the simpler choice.

You'd be meeting at the beach he proposed to you on and renewing your vows over a flower arch with only your closest friends and family, then you'd all eat dinner (you'd reserved a part of the resturaunt) at the place you and Spencer had gone to after he proposed.

It was simple, and it was perfect.

You were getting in the car with your girls when Daisy gasped.

"Mama" just like her father that one, "Where are the flowers!?"

You tried hard not to laugh at her expression as you backed out of the drive way, but it really was hard not to.

"Don't worry petal we're going to give you and Violet the flowers when we get there."

And you did, or at least Spencer did.

Once you got to the beach you all saw him standing and greeting the guests. Once Daisy and Violet did too they ran to him hugging his legs before he could catch them and toppling him over successfully.

And when they finally walk down that isle as the sun begins to paint the sky a beautiful gradient of pinks, oranges and blues he thinks about how lucky he is to have not only you the love of his life but also the two beautiful smart and talented daughters you both created.

Daisy and Violet hold two wicker baskets, throwing Daisy and Violet petals which you'd agreed had to be done.

You keep your eyes on them as they grin from their seats next to their auntie Penelope.

And when you both recite the loving vows you said exactly 10 years ago you also find that both you and Spence edit it slightly to include the wonderful human beings you brought into the world.

To which they of course squeal and cheer at until the ceremony is over.

[infiniteimaginings]

He's Still My Father (Father!Count Olaf x GN!Child!Reader) [Platonic]

Summary: You are Count Olafs child from a woman he truly loved, who is now gone due to...unfortunate events. You meet the Baudelaires who are now suffering in the care of your father, will you help them? Or are you really your fathers child? Pronouns: You/Yours, ‘Child’ Warnings: Typical ASOUE timeline events, and not a good father child relationship Word Count: 2.0k A/N: God, I was planning the layout of the post to add the fic and I am an idiot and posted it before it was ready. So I had to delete it and then deleted it WITH the request by accident. I am so sorry to whoever requested. It's here now though, I'm so sorry, I love you so much, thank you for requesting. I'm just stupid lmao, I hope you like it, I hope you remember you requested to me. I'm so sorry again.

The Baudelaire children, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were orphans. After their parents' tragic death in a house fire, they were sent to live with their closest living relative. That relative's name was Count Olaf.

He was pale, tall, and extremely thin. He had grayish white receding hair, a long unibrow, a hooked nose, and a tattoo of an eye on his ankle. He was unsettling to look at. The Baudelaires tried to look past his appearance and the appearance of the home that didn’t look lived in. They tried but Count Olaf showed his true colors the moment Mr Poe, the banker responsible for the children's fortune left to them by their parents, had left the grounds. Olaf was greedy, obsessive, rude, and vile.

The only thing even slightly keeping the children afloat in the terrible conditions was the neighbor across the street and Count Olafs child, you. 

Your father was the worst man the Baudelaires had come to know, so they didn’t know what to think of you. You were quiet as he spoke, standing to his side, chest puffed out and proud. You occasionally joined in dance numbers and ate with the troop, but other than that you weren’t necessarily acknowledged. For all the Baudelaires knew, you could be just as horrible as your father.

After the dinner that went terribly wrong, the three were in the attic. Klaus was holding his cheek that was slightly bruised due to Count Olaf slapping him at the table, he was sat against the wall. Violet was across the room putting Sunny to sleep. There was silence in the air, nothing but the sounds of crickets since their window wouldn’t close that night.

Through the silence, soft footsteps were barely heard, they were drawing near the room the Baudelaires were in. Violet turned her head quickly and stood in front of the makeshift area they made for Sunny and Kalus stood in front of the door, waiting for Olaf to enter the room.

The door slowly and quietly opened and your head peeked in to see if they were asleep. The two eldest Baudelaires were still on guard, but their defense lowered a bit when they saw it was just you.

“Oh, you guys are awake, good.” You told them, walking into the room and shutting the door quietly. Klaus and Violet looked at each other, having a silent conversation but neither had an answer for why you were there.

You cleared your throat, bringing attention back to you. You danced on your heels slightly, “If you guys are done with,” You waved your hand towards them, “whatever it is you guys are doing.” You finished, sighing a bit, “I brought a med kit.” 

Klaus’s eyes narrowed at you but Violet gave you a weak smile. “A med kit?” She asked, smoothing her dress, walking to you. You nodded and handed it to her awkwardly, looking to the floor, “Dinner was quite brutal…so I snuck it out of my fathers bathroom.” You mumbled, kicking the wood on the ground a bit. 

Violet's smile was soft towards you, as were her eyes. She took the medicine kit from your slightly trembling hands, “Thank you.” She told you gently, trying to catch your eyes. When you met her eyes you just looked away, rubbing your neck. “That was all really, I’ll be in my room.” You announced, turning to the door.

“Why are you helping us?” Klaus’s voice asked quietly as to not wake the whole house with how he was fuming, but you could tell he was angry with how sharp his words were. He had every right to be angry, you were their age and you haven’t done anything. 

You stayed turned, tilting your head as you nodded, blinking back some tears they couldn’t see. “You guys don’t know how to live here.” You whispered out, inhaling deeply, breath staggering. “I do, I have.” You continued on, hugging yourself, “Just do what he says and be quiet.” You finished your sentence and you were met with silence. You put your hand on the handle but you were stopped with a hand on your shoulder.

It was gentle, turning you around to face them. Violet looked at you sadly, “This place is horrible, he treats everyone terribly.” She told you, brows furrowed, lips parted.

You licked your lips with a weak smile, “He’s my father, you don’t have to tell me how he acts.” You spoke with a huff of a laugh, sucking at your teeth slightly. Violet shook her head, “Then, why do you stay?” She asked you, taking her hand off your shoulder to clasp her own in front of her.

Silence once again other than the crickets outside. You smiled at them, “I have nowhere else to go.” You spoke simply with a shrug, sniffling. Klaus’s harsh expression softened and Violet frowned at you, but you didn’t give them any time to speak, “Goodnight.” You told them, rushing out of the room quietly back down the stairs.

A few days later, you didn’t speak to the Baudelaires. Any time they tried you would stare at them wide eyed and blank, tilting your head as if you were programmed. When they realized they weren’t getting through to you, they gave up and went on with their days.

You were now sitting in the dining room with the Baudelaires, well the two oldest ones, and you were extremely confused. You knew the three had run around between the neighbors house and shopping but you paid no attention to it, nor did you involve yourself in their affairs. So why were you there?

Count Olaf looked at the three of you, “Oh and where is Sunny?” He asked, grinning widely but the other two at the table snarled. “What did you do with our sister?!” Klaus yelled, hitting his fist on the table. Violet glared at the man at the head of the table, “Give her back now!”

You stared at them, looking between the two and your father with parted lips. When you saw the wicked look in your fathers eyes, your mouth widened a bit and your eyes teared up. “No…” You whispered, rushing out the room to go outside. 

The Baudelaires noticed you left the room in a rush but they didn’t know why. Olaf gestured his arm to where you went, “Follow the leader.” He spoke slowly and the Baudelaires rushed out to the backyard where you were standing, staring upwards.

You knew it was weird that there was a cage hanging from the forbidden tower, you should’ve immediately connected the dots but you just couldn’t believe he would do something like…this.

The Baudelaires demanded Count Olaf to take her down but he refused, threatening to kill her if Violet didn't play the role of the bride and sign the wedding construct during the play. Klaus couldn’t step in to help, because then Sunny would be killed if he tried. 

They complied and you stood, quiet.

They still tried to get their sister that night but were locked in a room by the hook handed man who had walkie talkies to keep Count Olaf in the loop, so they wouldn’t try anything.

You knew everything your father plotted, he wasn’t exactly quiet about it. This time around, he walked into your room with a gentle smile, “Angel.” He spoke, the nickname he hadn’t called you since your mother was alive and that was when you were around two. 

He sat next to you on your bed, rubbing your back slowly as you stared out to the wall, “Tomorrow is the play.” He hummed, and you nodded, sniffling a bit. “Do you need me to do something for it?” You asked him almost hesitantly, but you knew never to hesitate in front of him. 

Your father shook his head, repeating his ‘no’ excessively. “You just sit backstage, be quiet, and just let me do my work.” He mumbled, pulling you into a small hug. “We’ll be rich, we’ll be happy, just how I wanted us to be before your mother…” He trailed off, gently rubbing your neck. You didn’t hug back, you sat awkwardly as he continued to speak. 

He told you how you had your mothers smile, how you reminded him of her. In those moments he was soft, it was those moments you held onto. You held onto them before at least, now you couldn’t even bear to look at him. You turned your head from him, tearing yourself from his side as he spoke and he rolled his eyes, walking away. He muttered a small “Exactly like your mother.” before he left you alone in your bedroom.

You knocked on the door and the hook handed man had no reason not to let you in. You stared at the two Baudelaires with a frown, they didn’t even look at you.

“You’re not plotting.” You spoke bluntly, sitting in front of them. Klaus looked up at you before looking back down, completely silent. Violet sighed, “We can’t do anything, Sunny will be hurt-” 

“No, she’ll be killed!” Klaus cut in harshly, glaring at you as if you set the whole thing up.

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. You inhaled through the nose, patting your chest a bit to rid the pain in your chest. You looked at Violet slightly, glancing at the hook handed man who wasn’t paying attention. You leaned in, “What’s your dominant hand?”

The next day was the ‘play’, many people were there. Justice Strauss, the neighbor across the street, was going to play the judge, which made the marriage legally binding. The play was going on just as planned and as they got to the marriage Violet sucked in a breath, forced to sign the paper of the marriage.

Count Olaf grinned with all his teeth barred, turning to the audience and explaining how the marriage was legally binding and real. Mr. Poe and Justice Strauss were shocked, they objected, but…they couldn’t do anything the damage was done. The Baudelaires now had to transfer their parents' fortune to Count Olaf, the evil man who did everything to get his hands on their money. 

Count Olaf spoke into the walkie talkie, telling the hook handed man to bring the baby, Sunny, to the stage.

That was until you walked onto the stage, “Actually…” you began, tilting your head as you stood next to Violet. “Violet?” You looked over to her smugly, and she turned to you, blinking her eyes innocently. “Yes?” She asked, tilting her head at you.

“What hand is your dominant hand?”

“Oh, well that would be my right.” She answered with a sweet smile and you blinked, hand on your chest as you gasped. The conversation is quite confusing to everyone around you, but when you looked at your father he just looked livid. His brows were in a v shape, he didn’t know what you were doing but his gaze told you to ‘stop’...you didn’t.

“But…didn’t you just sign with your left hand?” You asked, terribly acting out your point.

“I did indeed.” 

You nodded and smiled, “That makes the marriage not legally binding, since she has to sign in her own hand, and that wasn’t her dominant.” You explained to the crowd who murmured around a bit. 

Justice Staruss agreed with you, it was a small loophole but a loophole nonetheless. The marriage wasn’t legally binding, it wasn’t real. 

Count Olaf looked around with clear stress in his features, sweat dripping down his face as he nervously laughed. He went to tell his men to drop the baby, but she appeared on stage, carried by the hooked man, and Count Olaf was to be arrested.

He looked at you with dark but saddened eyes, “You are a terrible actor.” He told you, jaw tightened as his eyes narrowed.

You sniffled, eyes filling with tears as you stared up at him, shaking your head, “I am my fathers child.” You answered, voice hoarse. 

His eyes widened as his scowl softened, “You are not my child after this.” He told you, walking backwards as people began to get out of their seats to go after him. Count Olaf was shaking his head at you, “Your mother would be so disappointed in you.”

Those were the last words he said to you before the lights all shut off and when they were back on, he was gone. Your fath….Count Olaf had left you, you were now an orphan. 

You now could finally breathe without struggling.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 [𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader [Modern!AU]

SUMMARY — More news comes to light about Landon, putting Violet and Reader on damage control.

WORD COUNT — 3K

WARNINGS — some descriptions of panic and anxiety

NOTE — And here's chapter 2! From here on out posts will be weekly, most likely on Fridays, but I hope you enjoy this start to the story and I can't wait to share chapter 3 with all of you!

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑰: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑮𝑶𝑻 𝑨𝑾𝑨𝒀

A few weeks had now passed since Violet had hired you, and she couldn’t have prayed for a better fit. Even though they were behind on some of the budgeting for the gala, things were running so smoothly Violet was confident that they would catch up. 

“You look like you’re in a good mood.” 

Violet looked up from her tea at her friend who she was visiting, a smile creeping up on her lips. 

“And what if I am?” she asked. 

“I would ask why because you have been so stressed you’ve been giving me grey hair, and now, miraculously, something has changed.” 

Violet chuckled at Agatha’s dramatic flair and placed her tea down in a saucer before speaking. 

“You remember this whole thing with Landon,” she said. “Dealing with the aftermath of it was terrible, but I recently hired someone to fill his position, and she feels like a very good fit. I’m enjoying working with her.” 

“A good fit,” Agatha smiled. She had a feeling there was something else her friend wasn’t sharing, but she knew it would come with time, not wanting to press too hard quite yet. “I suppose that means the gala is raring to go?” 

“Yes, and I would be so grateful if you could attend,” Violet said with a soft look in her eyes. “I’m trying to make sure all the family is back in time for it, but you know my children.” 

“Like herding cats,” Agatha said with a chuckle, and Violet nodded with slight exasperation. “Speaking of, how is everyone?” 

“Alive,” Violet chuckled. “Anthony is still in India, he won’t be back until the gala I believe; Benedict is Lord knows where; Colin and Penelope are on assignment in Indonesia last I heard. You probably already know that Daphne and Simon are settling in with baby number three.” 

Agatha nodded. 

“Eloise is at school taking summer courses because she cannot be without some sort of mental stimulation for too long; Francesca has just started her position at the philharmonic; and Gregory and Hyacinth are at home getting on each other’s nerves as usual.”

“So I gather the house still isn’t quiet?” 

“Not in the least,” Violet shook her head. “Hyacinth is so excited I’ve agreed to let her go to this concert with Benedict. I believe I’ve heard all of the album so many times I could do the concert myself.” 

“But watching one’s mother sing is not nearly as entertaining is it?” Agatha teased and Violet laughed. 

“No, surely not.” 

Once the laughter settled down, Agatha looked at Violet, a curious glimmer in her eyes. 

“Are you sure there isn’t something else you wish to speak with me about?” she asked. “Perhaps something different from the usual?” 

Violet frowned a little, unsure as to what her friend was referring to.

“No, I don’t think there is,” she shook her head. “Why do you ask?” 

“No particular reason,” Agatha shrugged. “But you do know you can tell me anything.” 

“Of course I do,” Violet nodded her head, her lips pressed into a small, thin smile. “You are my closest friend, if there was something to tell, I would tell it to you.” 

“Good,” Agatha nodded, content with that response. 

Violet sipped her tea and thought back to Agatha’s question. Was she reading into something that wasn’t there or did she sense something Violet didn’t? The only really different thing in her life at the moment was you and, in her mind, that was normal. You were an employee who was working well, but then again so was Marianne when Violet had hired her, and she hadn’t necessarily sung her praises in front of Agatha. 

She was about to open her mouth and ask her friend further questions about what she meant, but she was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. 

Seeing your name flash across the screen, she excused herself for a moment, answering the phone and stepping outside of the room to take the call. 

“Hello?” 

“Violet, hi,” she heard your voice on the other end, you sounded a little nervous. 

“Is something going on?” she asked. 

“Nothing major,” you assured her. “Just I-I noticed some discrepancies in the accounts…Okay that’s pretty major, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so sorry to cut your tea with your friend short, but I think we have to talk about this.” 

Violet pressed her lips together and nodded her head. 

“Are you at the house?” she asked. 

“No, I’m at my apartment in the city. I can be there in forty minutes.” 

“No need, I’m closer to you, text me your address, I’ll come over,” she said. 

“Alright, call me when you get close, I’ll come down and get you from a side entrance.” 

Violet felt a small flutter in her chest at the reminder that she may be exposing herself to wandering eyes, but your voice quickly reassured her that there were ways to be discreet. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Violet said. “Maybe call the lawyers while you’re waiting for me, I’ll call Anthony on the way.” 

You agreed and exchanged quick goodbyes before Violet entered the room, an apologetic look on her face. 

“Dinner to make up for this?” she asked. 

“Your place, you cook,” Agatha nodded and Violet chuckled. 

“Deal,” she came into the room and gave her friend a tight hug before grabbing her bag and jacket, letting herself out. 

She got into her car and began the drive to the address you had sent, calling Anthony once the GPS was set up. 

“Hey Mum,” the voice of her daughter-in-law rang through the car and Violet smiled. 

“Kate, my darling, it is so good to hear your voice,” she sighed. 

“It's good to hear yours, too,” she could practically hear Kate smile over the phone. “Let me guess, more issues with work?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Violet nodded. “It may be good for you to hear this as well, but can you get Anthony?” 

“Of course,” Kate assured her and went to go get her husband, informing her when they were both on the phone together. 

“Mum, what’s going on?” Anthony asked. 

“Our new manager’s just found some discrepancies in the accounts. I thought you said the lawyers didn’t find anything?”

“They didn’t,” Anthony swore quietly. “What was it?” 

“I’m not sure yet, but I would not be surprised if it has anything to do with Landon. I’m heading to her home right now to go over things with her, and she’s calling the lawyers,” Violet explained. “Just, could you maybe go on damage control with your siblings and make sure no one is spending exorbitant amounts of money on anything, not that they would, just try to keep things within limits.” 

“Okay, Kate and I can handle that,” Anthony nodded. 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come home?” Kate asked. “My family would understand, we can come back another time.”

“Oh no, my dear,” Violet shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t want you to do that. This time is special, Eddie isn’t always going to be this young. Your family should get a chance to enjoy him like this, too.” 

“Alright,” she sighed. “But don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I feel like we left you alone at such an inconvenient time.” 

“It’s no matter, we have a manager now who I really think we can trust. I’m sure she’ll be able to help me figure whatever this is out.” 

“We love you, Mum,” Anthony said. “Check in soon.” 

“Will do. Kisses.” 

Both Anthony and Kate made a small kiss sound over the phone before they exchanged goodbyes and hung up just before Violet pulled into the area where your apartment was.

It took her a moment to find parking, but she called you while she did and you came down to greet her by the side door, ushering her inside. 

“You found the place okay?” you asked, and Violet nodded her head. 

You could see the stress clearly in her expression, especially as she fiddled with the rings on her finger or played with the ends of her hair while you were waiting in the elevator. 

Once you finally got inside your apartment you quietly excused the mess. 

“I moved in just before I started working for you, I haven’t had the chance to get everything out of boxes yet,” you explained, bringing her over to your office that was more or less set up. “Okay, this is what I found.” 

You showed Violet the papers splayed out and began to explain them. 

“Basically, it’s a money trail,” you said. “At first glance it actually looks quite normal, which is probably why the others missed it, but I didn’t recognize this name,” you pointed to the document, “and decided to do some additional digging. I found out it actually goes all the way to this shell company working out of Seychelles. Unfortunately, I can’t touch it and it looks like there’s a couple hundred million in there.” 

Violet could feel herself growing nauseous. Ironically, she wasn’t worried about the money, but more so what kind of attention this would bring to the family. The kind of attention she was trying so desperately to avoid. 

“V-Violet, are you alright? You look a little pale,” you said softly, gently reaching to place a hand on her back. “Do you want to sit down?” 

She nodded her head, and you helped her into one of the nearby seats, watching as her eyes scanned the papers. 

“We have to call the police, don't we?” she said finally and you nodded your head. “This is my fault,” she whispered and you frowned, kneeling down in front of her. 

“How on earth is this your fault?” you asked. 

“I hired Landon,” she explained. “He worked for us for years, and I didn’t notice a single thing.”

“Violet,” you placed a hand on her knee, and her eyes moved to where you touched her. The contact was not unfamiliar, but she felt herself wanting to lean into it. “These weren’t your actions,” you said quietly. “They’re Landon’s, and it’s not like he made his intentions clear to you. He lied and was manipulative.” 

Violet chewed on the inside of her cheek, holding her forehead in her hands before running her hand through her hair and leaning back into the chair. 

“The money will find its way back-” 

“It’s not about the money,” Violet shook her head. “We have more than enough of that, and even if we didn’t…it wouldn’t be the end of the world.” 

You stayed silent, waiting to see if she would say more, but your mind found itself drifting back to the comment she had made during your interview. 

“It’s the press, isn’t it?” you asked, and she nodded her head. 

You chewed on your lip, trying to think of something, anything that might relieve her worry, but you were afraid nothing would do the trick. 

“You must think it's silly,” Violet said, leaning back in her chair, her body language becoming more closed off as the topic progressed. “That someone who has lived her whole life in the spotlight should probably be used to the press by now.” 

“I never said I think it’s silly,” you spoke softly, still kneeling by her side. “I can't imagine having my whole life available to the public, whether it is the truth or lies fabricated to get more viewership. That is not a life I think anyone sane would long for.” 

Violet pressed her lips together and sighed. 

“Then let’s try and keep this low profile for as long as we can. It will inevitably get out, but maybe by that time, things will have cooled off.” 

You nodded your head, patting her knee and standing up. 

“Of course, then we can focus on lighter things like this gala.” You smiled. “I just got word that they secured the venue you wanted, so that’s good news.” 

Violet couldn’t help but smile at that. It was good news. She’d always had good luck when she’d hosted at this venue, managing to raise more and more money each time, and she would always make sure her own family’s donations would match. 

Edmund had always said that money was a tool, and when it was used properly, it had the opportunity to do good in the world. 

Now that most of her children were able to support themselves, she worried less and less about giving more of the money away. Yes, they had lived a fairly privileged life, but she and Edmund tried to make sure they didn’t focus their spending on luxuries. 

Aside from their home, which had been in the family for eons, they kept things simple. A few people to help around the house due to its large size, security when it was necessary, but that was the extent of it. 

Violet watched as you picked up the phone to call the lead officer on Landon’s case. Eventually they had given their number to Violet in case anything suspicious came up, but she thought they were in the clear and would never have to use it. 

When you were finished talking, telling the officer you would meet him at the Bridgerton’s residence, you grabbed your keys and your purse, but Violet stopped you. 

“We can go together, I’ll bring you back afterwards,” she said. 

“Are you sure? I know today has been hectic already. I don't want to add anything on your plate.” 

“Driving is the only time I get any peace, you’d be doing me a favour,” she assured. “Plus, I just got Gregory to clean the car so it’s spotless,” she teased. 

You chuckled at what she said, still packing your keys in your purse. 

“Okay, let’s go then,” you grabbed the papers and files from your desk that were relevant and headed to Violet’s car. She took a quick look around, before giving you a nod to get inside, and she followed soon after, starting the car. Hearing the quiet hum of the hybrid engine come into the space, she pulled out of her parking spot and began the drive back to her home. 

You wouldn’t lie, you weren’t particularly expecting Violet to drive herself around, but clearly she had proven time and time again her family did not do things the typical way. 

“So you enjoy driving?” you tried to make friendly conversation. 

“I do,” she nodded. “And I find I do so much of it, I may as well get a car that’s decent for the environment.”

“Really, you drive a lot?” you asked. 

“Well, more when all of my kids were still living at home. We used to joke and say I was the family chauffeur, but I loved driving with the kids, it let me spend more time with them when everything around us felt unmanageable.”

“Are you still chauffeuring Hyacinth and Gregory?” 

“Not as much as I used to. Hyacinth definitely, but Gregory gets himself around, much to my dismay,” she chuckled lightly. “But before I know it, Hyacinth will be off to school, and I’ll be alone with a lot of time on my hands.” 

“Maybe I can engage your services, then,” you teased and Violet smiled. 

“Tit for tat, I like that,” she turned off of the highway and went to one of the less crowded offroads that led to the house. “What about yourself, do you have any simple pleasures?” 

“You know, that is a good question,” you sighed and sank back into your seat. “I love art. Even just looking at it, I suppose.”

“And how do you satisfy that need?” Violet inquired further. 

“Museums, mostly. I’ll just go and sit there for hours looking at a particular painting. Well, I used to, I don’t have enough time to do much of that anymore,” you admitted. 

“You’ll enjoy the venue for the gala then,” Violet said. “It’s filled with art, I find it gets people in the right mood to give generously.” 

“You do a lot of that, don’t you?” you asked, turning your head over to her, watching as her eyes were focused on the road ahead, sunglasses tangled in her hair, the ghost of a smile on her lips. 

“Give generously?” she asked. “Yes, I’m afraid there may have been something I failed to mention when I hired you.” 

“Which is?”

“I don’t think this is going to be a permanent position,” she said quietly. 

“And why is that?” you asked curiously. 

“Once Hyacinth is in school, Anthony and I have made plans to…essentially give away most of the money.” 

“As your financial manager, I feel compelled to advise you against that,” you said, “but as a human being. I admire your detachment.” 

“Oh, I assure you there are selfish motives as well,” she said. “Each of the children will be left with a sizable trust, I will have enough to let me have a comfortable retirement, but Anthony and I thought it was time we got rid of the thing that keeps all the cameras constantly on our family.” 

“Do all your children know about this plan?” you asked. 

“More or less,” she nodded. “They’re all capable individuals. They will live happy and comfortable lives, and I know for a fact they won't struggle and neither will any of their children, or their children after that. They just might have a chance at some semblance of normality.” 

You nodded your head, understanding. 

“I’ll obviously need your help with that transition once it happens, but after that I’m afraid I won’t have much of a need for your expertise. Unless you also do taxes, then perhaps I can keep you around,” she looked over at you briefly. 

“I don’t tend to do taxes,” you said. “But I think I’d make an exception for you, Violet.” 

Violet bit her lip and smiled. She had certainly hoped you might say that.

TAGLIST —

@paola-carter @madde11 @thesamesweetie @cherrysxuya @philocalistwrites @mako-mermaids2021 @oh-mydarling @courtneyteal @amethyst-bitch @etherynn @lilisdarling

[oceansblvds]

around the fur ; aegon targaryen

pairing ; aegon targaryen ii x reader

words ; 2k ish

about ; an in depth understanding into the relationship between you and aegon targaryen. you had known each other since you were children; you wanted each other, lusted for one another . . . a tumultuous pattern that went around and around like a wheel.

warning(s) ; very little fluff, swearing, sexual themes, mentions of smut but not explicit smut?, it's not yandere but it's definitely not a healthy relationship, angst?, targaryen realness, my professor says i write too many words so that's a warning in itself.

authors note ; okay okay so i kinda wrote this as more of a word dump? i'm quite obsessed with aegon right now and definitely taking requests for aegon and aemond and possibly other hotd characters!

The confines of the Red Keep was something that you had grown accustomed to whilst growing up. You were soon coming to learn every staircase, where to find the best view of the sky at night, where to go when you wanted to be alone . . . everything. A part of that was of your own curiosity, though most of it had to do with your longtime childhood friend — Aegon Targaryen.

"My father will have me hanged if I am late for dinner again, Aegon," You whined, hands gripping your skirts as the two of you ran through the gardens. The hour was growing late, sun setting in pale hues of pinks and oranges. That was the sign that you should return to your chambers and wait for your father to come join you, or the other way around. But lately you had forgotten the time, leading to your father's angered words.

He was a lesser lord, but a lord nonetheless, and your home was originally in the southwest part of Westeros near Highgarden. Though, your father often was demanded at court, and it became easier to just move there for the time being. You couldn't remember much of your childhood before Kings Landing, this was your home.

"You will be back in time for supper, I promise," Aegon said, not even glancing in your direction as he slowed down. The two of you were far enough away from the keep that you knew he was giving false hope, but you believed him anyways. He was your best friend, the closest person you had here except for Helaena and sometimes Daeron, but both siblings tended to want alone time. Aegon was always the person you went to, he would say yes to playing no matter what. "Besides, if he eats without you, I can ask for something to be brought up to your chambers."

"I can do that myself," You said, laughing at him thinking that you could be so helpless.

Aegon stopped in his tracks, finally turning to look at you. "But, I would want to."

You smiled, a pale blush coming to your cheeks. You were both only one and two, the world was still so new. Things were bright and shiny, a world that was filled with many wondrous things for you to see. You didn't understand concepts like love, only that it was what others were supposed to have for their spouses.

You walked up closer to him now, able to see his face painted with the colors of the sunset. You quite liked the lighting like this, you thought to yourself, it made Aegon's pale hair have a glow, accenting his pale violet eyes. He wasn't quite taller than you, but he was always very quick to saying he would grow to be as tall as his father someday. You chose not to mention it, only granting him another smile and pressing your ankles off the ground, reaching to give a quick peck on his cheek.

Before he could say anything, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the gates. You had to get to dinner, after all.

That was where it all started.

You were older now, one and seven, and it had been somewhat of an eventful year. You were to think about marrying now, multiple lords coming to your father and mother with hopes that they would grant your hand. They were stalling, almost as if they were keeping inventory of all the men that wanted you. It made you sick to your stomach, especially when your head and heart led you elsewhere.

You could swear he was doing it to you on purpose. The sickly sweet spell that Aegon had put you under hadn't let up, relentlessly bringing you back to him whenever you attempted to do otherwise.

His silver locks had grown out into a wavy pattern that you found yourself staring at, wondering what it felt like to run your hands through it. Hands gripped firmly on the gauntlet, which kissed his lips every time he yearned for a sip of the honeyed wine he had sent up for the two of you. It was a dreary day outside, meaning that your usual escapades would have to resume indoors. There wasn't much to do, and you were aware he was trying to get away from his mother's meddling. You watched, almost a little too intently, at the way his tongue pressed in between his teeth as he tasted the fine wine, licked it from his lips and set the gauntlet down, returning to laying down on the cushion between you and him.

In order to try and avoid watching his every move, which you found yourself attempting to do a lot these days, you fancied yourself a book. It was something about the War on Dorne, how the Targaryen's had failed to conquer the land of the south. To be truthful, you were trying your hardest to pay attention, but you couldn't. He was doing something to you.

"Are you okay?" Aegon asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and bringing you to reality once again. His eyes were focused on you, his vision looking upside down as he stayed laying down on the cushion.

Your eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"You've been staring," He stated bluntly, seemingly unbothered as he reached to take another sip of his wine. This time, however, he stayed upright, bringing his attention to you. His arms held himself up, turning his body to face you as he said, "You do that a lot."

"No I don't," You said, your first instinct to grow defensive.

Instead of being defensive back, Aegon only laughed, an almost comical grin taking over his face. Your eyebrow rose, wondering what in the seven hells he was thinking. Like Aegon did every day, he spoke bluntly. "Have you ever been kissed?" Almost as if he was mocking you.

The question threw you off guard, unable to give him an answer right away. You were hesitant to shake your head, because the answer was no, you hadn't been kissed. While it was normal for Aegon to go about and do what he wanted with various women (something that you spent a considerable time worrying about as of late), you were not allowed to do such things. You were meant to stay as pure as you could, virginal, untouched. Of course you hadn't been kissed, he should know that, but instead he held the same stupid quizzical look on his face.

"No," You confessed, closing the book in your lap. "Would you like to elaborate as to why you felt the need to ask?"

Aegon leaned forward and kissed you. His scent enveloped you as much as his body did, it was such a brash action that you were unaware if you were dreaming or this was real life. After a few moments passed, his lips still working against yours, slowly, as if he was trying to teach you the motion, you were sure this was real life.

You didn't stop him.

His hands gripped your sides, sending sparks of electricity in their wake as he touched you there, and there, and there. His kisses were all consuming, leaving you entrenched in the feeling of only him, only Aegon. If you were to pull away, he would only pull you closer, a constant push and pull, both of you wanting for something that seemingly was unattainable. Neither of you wanted to stop.

A wave of satisfaction spilled forward in your soul, your heart intertwining into his with every touch, every sigh that passed your parted lips. At some point his kiss broke and he sent his mouth going lower and lower, against the soft skin of your collarbone, casually nipping at the skin that was exposed.

You wondered how you got here, pressed into the darkened corner of a hallway, on the outskirts of the Red Keep, hoping that no one would pass by and witness the outright sinful actions that you were partaking in. It wasn't the first time, and it surely wouldn't be the last. You learned quickly that once Aegon set his eyes on something, he wouldn't let it out of his sight until he had it. And when he looked at you, you supposed he saw a challenge. You were so virtuous, so pure, innocent, something fragile that he felt the need to break. He felt the need to take.

And you let him, with not many thoughts opposed. Ever since he had kissed you, all you could think about was the next time that you would be kissed. It was strange at first, meeting with him and wondering if he had forgotten what had happened, or it wouldn't happen again. But it did, it happened many times that you had to change locations. After all, who would marry you if you were caught?

You let out a breathy sigh, closing your eyes and thrusting your head back, allowing for him to have more access to your neck. As you opened your eyes, the soft dim light of the sun beginning the set blinded you, mixing with the embellished strands of his hair. He came up to face you, nipping at your lips, violet eyes staring intently into your own. It was his way of asking if you were okay, even though he knew the answer.

"What is it?" You asked, your hand brushing against his cheek.

He shook his head, it wasn't important. Instead his hands reached under the skirts of your dress, skin grazing against the soft skin of your thigh. You gasped, rather loudly, making him capture your lips in another kiss to silence you.

His kisses were soft despite his tough exterior, but they were not without intention. Every time his lips made contact with a piece of your skin you could feel his want, his desire, like he couldn’t get enough of you no matter how hard he tried. It was like you were his church and he was on his knees, praying for forgiveness for his sins, praying to your body that he worshipped unlike all the faceless gods in the world. Your hands collided with his hair, intertwining the soft locks of silver and pulling on it, pulling him closer.

Eventually more clothes came off, more skin against skin. He found solace again in your tiny sighs and moans that left your lips when he kissed there and there . . . and especially there.

You found yourself lost in it, lost in the fire that he created around you. You were certain that you were always meant to burn together. To love him was to love the hot embers of a forest fire, pressing your hands farther and farther into the flames no matter how much your body screamed to let go. It was all consuming, a love that suffocated you like smoke and left you burning for days. He was always burning, and sometimes you wondered if you just got caught up in the flames.

[swarmishstrangers]

i’ll give you my entire left tiddy for some more mspar alien difference fluff. written or drawn, with mallek or marvus or pretty much anyone else. warm blooded/cold blooded cuddles with marvus. mallek purring and being embarrassed abt it. mspar not realizing they’re being flirted with til someone spells it out to them. just any troll/human (??) difference shit or any of your hcs please i’m starving

Starve no more!! I'll feed you AND me cause I honestly fucking live for alien differences between trolls and humans like? Omg...I'll try to sneak some Mallek and Marvus for ya since you seem to mention both of them (and I'll throw in some other ones for more comparisons >:])

So for general troll temperature headcanons, let me tell you, you'd better enjoy being cold/not be too bothered by it cause the higher on the spectrum, the colder the blood you're touching and cuddling. The warmest a troll will ever be is if they're a mutantblood, the closest thing to getting to normal human body temperatures and the ones with any real warmth to them. Rust bloods being the lowest on the hemospectrum that aren't mutants don't have as much warmth but still tend to run warmer than other blood types on the hemospectrum. Not exactly lukewarm, little bit warmer than that. When we hit the goldbloods, that's when it starts getting lukewarm temperatures. Smack dab in the middle of the spectrum, the Jades, aren't very warm or anything, but it's a few hairs away from being able to consider them cold feeling. Anything above the jades is when things start getting cold.

Teals you could say are cold, maybe not unpleasantly so, you could feel such a difference that you would no longer feel any real warmth. Cerulean is when the temperatures could be so stark as opposed to human warmth that coming into direct skin to skin contact with it could definitely shock your skin and make you flinch initially. Purples are. Man. Remember how I said you'd better like being cold? This is where the cold could be the brink of being unpleasant for some who can't handle it very well, it really starts setting in the longer you choose stay in physical contact with them. Violets, I'd argue, would be downright unpleasantly cold to the touch, like, you know how if you go outside in the snow and your body feels numb and face would be stinging? Like that.

With that general stuff of how perceive the coldness of some trolls established. Um. Mallek and Marvus :} I'm going to apologize in advance, Marvus is a character I've always been intimidated by in terms of writing. I feel like I just don't get him enough, and I'd hate to mischaracterize him :(( but I'll do my best!! (Putting a break here cause I type a lot)

Marvus and Mallek I feel like have a tendency to be mischievous little shits sometimes, once becoming aware and acquainted with the warmth Mspar emits and how cold they are in comparison they like to have fun with it. Mallek likes to do that thing some people do, ya know, where people take something fucking cold like a thing of ice cream or an ice cold drink and fucking PRESS it against your skin and it makes you scream? That. But no ice cream, it's his hand touching their bare skin (which still makes them shriek and jolt in surprise). They turn around and playfully smack him on the shoulder in retaliation.

Marvus likes doing the same thing but for him GOD FUCK the cold feels so much worse than Mallek. Bitch IS the ice being pressed against your skin. He doesn't even need to use his whole hand, he could press a finger to them and get a reaction. Punching doesn't do much to Mallek anyways, trolls and their thicker skins, but Marvus doesn't have a lot of squish to begin with. It's weird punching someone who feels so..solid? Not to say he's got absolutely no squish, but he has very little of it.

Cuddling... ahehhehehe cracks knuckles.

Since I'm already talking about Marvus lemme get to him already. Since he is a freezer, it'll take a bit to get fully comfortable laying against him. Warmth can overpower or balance out a trolls temperature, this is something that's very hard to do with bloods higher than indigo. Something like either them or Marvus wearing a good amount of clothing to separate makes it to where they don't feel immediately uncomfortable with the chill of his skin. Marvus I feel like is kinda finicky when it comes to touch or laying for long periods of time?? It's kinda funny, you could hug him, and he'd allow it for just a few seconds before he'd wiggle his way out of it, a playful look to his eyes. Or allowing you to rub his skin for a bit before pulling away. Only when he's tired or is ready to be settled in completely is when you can really, for real, cuddle him without him squirming out of it.

Now Mallek? Umpfh. Touch starved. Mspar too actually, I headcanon that they are a touched starved person themselves. So how about two touched starved people help another out..by cuddling. And everything else that involves touch under the moon really.

For him, he kinda loses it when he's in physical contact with them. It's the warmth! It really gets to him, and it makes his brain go nuts. He used to fight the overwhelming urge to wrap them up really tight in his arms cause ya know. Snake brain, cold, friend/flushcrush is warm, curl around the warmth. He didn't fight it anymore when they actively sought out physical touch from him themselves and was actively encouraging him and letting him know it was okay to search for it back.

It was through being around him that they discovered the most surprising thing they never thought of a troll doing. Purring.

They have never heard of a sound as soft as purring coming from a troll.

Trolls only purr in the presence of those they feel the utmost comfort with. To feel the safest with, to trust them the most, and to be at your most vulnerable with. It's super intimate stuff in troll culture. Hearing that anywhere out in public could make trolls snap their head in that direction and make them flush in the face. Get a room!!

I imagine it was one of those many days where they stayed over at his hive. They had just decided that they were done playing video games and it from leaning against each other in silence while the game systems powered off, then it transitioned into Mspar coaxing Mallek to lay on then while they had their back laid down on his lounge plank. His weight against them was comforting to them.

They were just nuzzling his shoulder and rubbing their hands all up and down his back and sides, all with no patterns to it. He had his face pressed against their chest, his arms pushed underneath them to wrap around them. They could feel his smile against their skin, and they were all smiles and happy, too. Then they, well, they felt it before they heard it.

It was something they didn't even notice at first, the rumbling, the small vibrations emitting from his throat and chest. When it was growing stronger and the purring became audible, they still didn't question it at first. They were just so comfortable, and the cuddling was just so nice, his purring could put them to sleep and...wait. Purring?

When the realization of Mallek purring hit them, they temporarily halted their hand movements. Mallek stayed put for a bit before his purring stuttered a little, and he cracked an eyelid open to gaze at them, wondering why they stopped. He finds them kind of staring at him, their hands still under his tank top just stopped on his back.

"you okay;"

This snaps them out of it and they and they lean in to kiss his forehead, Mallek snorts in response and immediately relaxes against them again.

They kindaaa wanted to point it out at in the moment but ultimately decided against it so that he didn't get embarrassed or shy and stops. They think it's SUPER fucking cute.

As for general differences between troll and human romance? Cracks fingers. Obviously it depends on what quadrant a troll is interested in having you in. I'll go with red romance for now unless someone later wants the other quads too lol.

I talked about purring before and purring is a BIG one. Purring is how trolls communicate that they feel absolutely safe and comfortable in their partners presence along with purring being a form to heal when their partner is hurt or isn't feeling well. It leaves them very open and vulnerable and so it feels very intimate for most trolls. A troll purring in the presence of human they're interested in a human may not pick up the significance of it so they just see it at its simplest until explained. Some trolls may feel a little hurt when their human partners don't pick up on their purring and they don't purr back in response, again, until explained that humans aren't capable of making sounds such as purring. Make no mistake though! Troll purring does not sound like how a cat's would. It's sounds like how you would imagine an insect purring would sound like.

Sleeping in the presence of a person you're interested in or around your partner is another big thing trolls do. Sleeping near other trolls is again, a vulnerability thing. To sleep near someone? To be so open and let your guard down like that? To trust someone that much? Wipes sweat from brow. Humans being able to do this with trolls they're even a little comfortable with is absolutely flabbergasting to most trolls.

Okay there's sleeping when someone is nearby...then there's sleeping WITH someone. No not like that ya nasties. Sleeping with someone, in their recuperacoon, it's a vulnerability thing again woo boy. It's the HIGHEST form of trust a troll could show their partner! The significance of this can really go over a human's head, they truly don't understand the gravity of trust at play here.

Here's something not sleep related. Scent marking. This one is more subtle than just. A partner wearing their sign or typing the way their typing quirk is. This one is when a troll leaves something, take a shirt or their socks or something, at their partners hive. It leaves a bit of them, their scent, there and it's meant for their partners + any other trolls that are over know. Humans tend to also seek their partner's scent/how they smell (think stealing your partners clothes), it's another thing that means more deeply than they originally think about.

[dernier-mystere]

Even the Coldest Nights can't stop the Warmth of The Heart | Lyney x gn!reader

summary: reader who is set as traveller, has a commission set in Dragonspine, due to the odd nature of the request whilst in Fontaine, y/n asks Lyney to accompany them, where they experience a few new things. Just some fluff with slight Angst as requested! pairing: Lyney x reader warnings: N/A word count: 3010 a/n: It's the first proper time I've posted a fic here! I might upload it on my Ao3! Let me know if you guys enjoy this, and I may do more :) Anyway, this is my post for Genshin Impact Secret Santa for @meidnightrain! This is also the first time I wrote something for Lyney! Hope you enjoy it! Thank you @2023gisecretsanta for the opportunity! Merry Christmas Everyone! Happy 2024 as well!

"Aah… Achoo!"

Lyney slowly rubbed at his nose with his sleeve, he rarely had been out in such cold weather, but that didn't stop him from helping his 'friend'.

"Phew… I've heard some say that when you sneeze, it means that someone's thinking about you." He smoothly said as he pushed himself up to match the pace of his companion who was trudging their way through the harsh mountainous terrain with great ease which impressed him, he ruled that it must not have been their first time here. The magician smiled as he finally caught their gaze, twirling his top hat between his index and middle finger as he continued speaking, the hat soon landing on y/n's head as he placed it on.

"Is it Lynette?" He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin, despite gazing into the distance, his violet gaze was focused on Y/N, his smile soon turning into a flirtatious grin. "I wonder? Or… is it you?" He chuckled as Y/N panicked, almost losing their footing on the snow-covered ground, yet Lyney was a step quicker as he managed to grab onto Y/N's arm with ease as he laughed softly. The sound of his laugh was practically music to Y/N's ears as they felt their cheeks heat up, but it could've also been the harsh weather…

"Thanks…" Y/N softly said as they adjusted their balance on the ground, "Sometimes the ground is quite unstable on these mountains… I remember when the ground nearly fell under me when I was travelling up here with Albedo…" They admitted with a heavy sigh and a slouch, their H/C blowing in the icy winds.

Lyney gave a small chuckle at the thought of it happening, though a part of him did wonder who was this 'Albedo', he never classed himself as a possessive individual… but he saw Y/N to be just as important to him as Lynette was… being in the House of the Hearth meant he had to keep the ones closest to him safe and out of any trouble, as well as making sure they wouldn't leave him behind. "Really now, luckily for you, my dearest Y/N, I have been trying out this new trick as of recently, maybe you might be the perfect assistant in this if you were ever to fall~" He winked, and poked out his tongue to them.

"A new trick? about falling?" They asked softly, holding Lyney's top hat onto their head so it wouldn't blow off in the wind, it also provided some head protection from the snow. Y/N couldn't dare look Lyney in the eyes right now, especially paired with that playful grin of his, it made their chest fill with warmth and their heart race, Y/N swore they could almost keep warm from just his smiles and words alone.

"Of course! What magician would I be if I let my beloved fall into the icy depths of… What was it, Dragonspine?" He asked with the same flirtatious smile, watching Y/N nod at the unique name he continued, "What a unique name, may I ask how it acquired such a name?" He asked, his gaze glistening with curiosity as Y/N continued to push through the cold winds. "It's quite a story… a great dragon was defeated here and their corruption that lingered in their blood poisoned the land…" Y/N explained, their footsteps falling to a stop as they extended their hand out over the large cliff face to the large spines sticking out of the ground, "I was surprised to learn that those are its ribs and then you know if you follow them along, it makes the rest of the dragon's body."

"I see, my that sure is a fascinating tal-" He felt another sneeze consume him, cutting off his words as he sneezed once more, maybe he should have taken Father's stories into account whenever she headed to Snezhnaya… a thicker cloak would've been much more protective against the cold wind and atmosphere compared to the fur-lined cloak he opted to bring when Y/N had asked him to come along… Lynette would've lectured him for this as well, however, she and Freminet were both accompanying father with a request… and how could he say no to Y/N's humble request when they have come all the way to just find him, paired with their adorable pleading face…

"My apologies, as I was trying to say," He wiped his nose once more, "A truly fascinating tale, if only I could summon a dragon out of my hat, that surely would be a unique show in Fontaine! I am sure the audience would've been blown away with such a creature!" He gave a hearty chuckle as he explained the scene in his mind. The whole idea also made Y/N giggle, finding his idea almost ridiculous, there was no way that any space he held his shows would be able to hold a large dragon, maybe in the Opera Epiclese… but even that would be quite the stretch. Or maybe he could summon Neuvillette from his hat, he was considered a dragon… though Y/N was sure that the Chief Justice wouldn't exactly appreciate being pulled out from a hat.

Y/N glanced over at Lyney as he sneezed yet again, no doubtly chilled to the bone from the weather, Fontaine never had such weather like this… Y/N slowly removed their thick cloak and placed it around Lyney's shoulders, making the magician perk up, "Ah, dearest Y/N I am fine! You should keep this for yourself! I wouldn't want you to freeze out here." He mumbled, a slight blush on his cheeks as he for once, refused to look into the traveller's glistening E/C eyes.

"I have been up here a few times now, I am practically used to it."

"Still… it is quite dangerous."

"Call it a trade for your magician hat!" They smiled with a giggle, "Come on, there is a small cave nearby, we can try to make a fire and keep warm before treading up further to fetch those beacons, who even decides putting these up here is a good idea…" They whined, as Y/N planted their heels of their boots into the snow, and quickly hiked up the remaining snow-covered steps to locate the cave.

Lyney blinked for a few seconds, his mind trying to process the whole ordeal, or maybe he was just entranced by Y/n's beautiful smile… it was simply dazzling… it made them glow brighter than any star that danced in the night sky. He placed a hand to his chest for a moment, his eyes held such a display of emotions, affection, awe amongst many more… He truly was a magician who had fallen under a spell of something truly magical. He quickly eased his breathing and closed his mouth which was slightly agape the whole time, finally concluding his feelings. He quickly pushed himself up the stairs to catch up, clutching the cloak Y/N had wrapped around him closely as he finally made it up the stairs.

"What took you so long, Lyney…"

"My apologies, I was just… reminiscing. Father often spoke of Snezhnaya being cold like this… Now I can't get over just how cold it must be down there." He smiled despite lying in the situation, "Father always mentioned wearing thick layers of clothing when going down there, I should've followed his words to a T." He chuckled as a particularly cold gust of wind blew through his ash blond strands, making his hair a slight mess.

Y/N laughed at his appearance, snow stuck in some parts of his hair that was now messed up from the wind, and his face scrunched up due to the cold, he was adorable to look at, almost like a cat.

"Don't laugh at me… that was not a funny trick of the wind!" He exclaimed playfully as he too started laughing as he shook his head to get rid of the snow in his hair, not before gathering a small chunk and flicking at Y/N with an innocent smile, "My, looks like the snow got you too." He winked as he continued to laugh, making Y/N gasp as they wiped off the snow that lingered on their cheek.

The pair sat around the makeshift fire they had managed to build together in a small cave, it offered them protection from the cold winds and also warmed up their bodies. "It has been a while since I got time to myself like this. Enjoying the thrills of adventure and just bonding with friends in a whole new place. I see why Father didn't mind when I had asked." Lyney hummed, leaning back onto his arms that were placed behind him as he enjoyed the warm embrace of the fire, as his gaze lingered outside of the cave.

Y/N calmly gazed at him, it was almost like he seemed a little troubled as he spoke, as if he wanted to say something else, but he didn't want to say it. His purple eyes soon locked onto Y/N's as he tilted his head, "Something the matter traveller? Ah, would you like to see a trick?" He hummed with another smile as he closed his eyes. Y/N shook their head as they continued to look at Lyney, "You seem like the one who is troubled… You can tell me you know." Y/N mumbled silently, their soft voice laced with concern that made Lyney give them a true smile of his own.

He chuckled softly, "Ah traveller, only you can seem to read the true me huh? No matter how I try to hide, you are truly… something special." He spoke honestly, his head drooping slightly as his gaze returned outside once more, fingers gently brushing over the small stick of food that he held over the fire. "I am not too sure honestly, maybe I am worried about Lynette, or it could be that… I am just conflicted with emotions. I never particularly ever speak about myself let alone about… personal stuff. Hard to say." He spoke, Y/N could tell he still had some hesitation in his words, but for once he seemed genuine. "Well, you're always with Lynette, and being so far away from Fontaine… I can understand." Y/N commented, looking down at their skewer, yes, they too knew the burden of being so far away from their twin sibling all too well, though they had no real clue where their sibling was.

Lyney turned to Y/N once more, hearing the heavyweight in their tone, he was met with a small look of disappointment and sadness lingering in their eyes. He couldn't help but feel bad, he was lucky that he knew where Lynette was and that she was okay… Y/N however, had no idea where their sibling was. The Magician slowly moved closer to Y/N, shuffling close enough to the point their arms were touching. "I am sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to remind you of your own sibling… I at least can rest at ease that both Father and Freminet are with Lynette…" He slowly trailed off as he continued to gaze at Y/N with great concern, unsure whether to continue speaking or not. He was a magician, after all, he used his tricks and verbal magic to get closer to people… Yet, he struggled with trying to comfort others who seemed to be suffering.

His thoughts were cut off when he felt Y/N rest their head against his shoulder, their arms slowly wrapping around his own as they continued to look outside as he had previously. "It's okay… it wasn't your fault, Lyney… I just…" they slowly trailed off as they hugged his arm more firmly, pressing their cheek against his warm shoulder, "I just wish, I knew where they were… the last time I saw them, it was…a mess…" Y/N's voice fell to a low whisper as they talked about their brother, Lyney could hear their longingness to find their brother, all the hurt and suffering Y/N must have gone through, for their sibling to fall right through their fingers.

He slowly rested his head against Y/N's own, slowly nuzzling his cheek against their soft H/C coloured hair, "I am sorry to hear that…" He whispered against Y/N's hair, "I am sure… as twins, they too would want to know you're alright too… I am sure of it… Just like how Lynette would be concerned about me too, but… I am sure she knows I will be fine if I am with you." He whispered affectionately as he tried his hand at comforting Y/N, soon placing a lingering kiss on the top of their head.

Y/N smiled softly as they slowly snuggled closer to the magician as he spoke words as soft as clouds appeared, he had a charm with his words yet they felt truly genuine when he talked to them. Y/N felt Lyney move his arm out of their grasp, before wrapping it delicately around their shoulders and pulling them closer to his frame, allowing Y/N to rest their head against his chest. "You think so?" they asked softly as they nuzzled closely to him, enjoying the lingering warmth that came off of him.

"Of course, you know I could never lie when I gaze into your mesmerising eyes, Y/N, even if I tried." He chuckled softly, as he lifted his head of their own to give them a toothy smile. Y/N playfully rolled their eyes at his little attempts of trying to be smooth, "I can't with your lines, I am trying to have a serious moment here!" they chuckled before nudging Lyney in the ribs.

"Oh come now, my beloved. You know it is not my fault that you know how to truly cast a magical spell over this magician." He continued to smile as he nudged Y/N back, and both soon laughed together. "Say… Y/N, how about a small trick?" He asked fondly, gently moving himself to be in front of their gaze, yet he remained close enough for Y/N to keep leaning their head against him. "As long as you don't summon a dragon from your hat…" Y/N tried to force an annoyed tone, yet their voice crumbled into a playful laugh. Lyney shook his head, "If only! Feast your gaze amongst my hands." He said confidently as he moved his arm off Y/N whom they almost whined at. He quickly withdrew a set of cards from his vest, before effortlessly shuffling them between his hands with a hum, "Keep your eyes on them, mon amour." Lyney then flicked the cards out in his hands, allowing Y/N to select a card.

Y/N slowly moved their head off of his chest to gaze at the cards, "Um… this one?" They pointed at one, to which Lyney picked it up to show it to the traveller, "Remember this card, or else something bad may happen." He winked as he shuffled it back into his hands. Nine of hearts… Nine of hearts… Y/N whispered in their head as they resumed to resting their head against Lyney's chest. "Mon amour, is this your card?" He asked with a playful smirk, Y/N blinked as they gazed at the card he held up, "No…" they replied, as he held up a completely different card, "Mhmn, keep watching." He quickly flicked the card around revealing the card of nine hearts behind the previous card. "Wha- How?" Y/N perked up as Lyney smiled brightly, "My dear, you know a magician never reveals his secrets, but… may this magician hold your attention a little longer?" He asked, yet there was a slight hesitation in his voice as he leaned a little closer.

"Of course," They whispered, the heaviness was gone and instead placed with awe and curiosity. He nodded as he smiled once more, he slowly put the rest of his card deck away and continued to hold the card you had chosen. He slowly ripped it in half, before leaning close to Y/N as they were watching the card in his hands, tenderly brushing his lips over their slightly reddened cheek. Before Y/N could fully process the brush of lips on their cheek, Lyney had pulled back and twirled the two pieces in his hands as he took off his hat and dropped the card pieces into it, giving it a shake and emptying the hat to reveal nothing inside. Before placing his hand into it once more and withdrawing a lovely red scarf from his hat, which he wrapped around Y/N's neck, making sure they were comfortable.

"Just a small gift from Lynette." He smirked a little, as Y/N was now flustered bright red from the kiss that seemed to still linger on their cheek. "You! You can't just do that!" They huffed, rubbing their hand on their cheek as Lyney simply laughed, "Come now, it's a treat to see your lovely blushed cheeks, you can't blame me for wanting to see it for myself." He purred, his smirk becoming a gentle smile.

"I hate you…" Y/N murmured as they hid their face into his cloak that he had wrapped around both of their shoulders to help keep them warm, yet they couldn't stop the smile that pulled at the corner of their lips, as Lyney returned to wrapping his arm around their shoulders once more.

"If that was from Lynette… then what do you plan to give me?"

"Ah, that would ruin the surprise, Mon Amour, for now, how about we enjoy the warmth of the fire." He hummed with a cheeky smile, gently tapping on Y/N's nose.

Even the Coldest Nights can't stop the Warmth of The Heart.

a/n: PHEW, so honestly, I legit forgot about the Secret Santa omg, BUT I remembered in the nick of time! I have decided to upload this a little early (I mean it's literally like 3 hours till the 24th for me, but I may be busy for Christmas! I hope you enjoyed this gift, Meidnightrain!

Thank you so much for reading and I hoped you all enjoyed this! Please support my account by either liking or reposting! It is much appreciated, and if you'd like to see more of my fanfiction works, please let me know or drop in a request! I can mainly do Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail Characters fairly well! or just ask me for other anime characters! Thank you again! and-

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Find me on other platforms: Twitter: @DernierMystere Insta: @Dernier_Mystere Ao3: Dernier_Mystere https://dernier-mystere.carrd.co/

Jingyi over and out!

[quotergirl19]

I believe Lady Danbury was the true love of Lord Ledger’s life, and he was hers. It seems like she was the woman he wished he could have married but we have no backstory on why he married his wife (yet) and it’s entirely possible that they had an arranged marriage similar to the marriage Lady Danbury had with her husband Herman, which we know from Queen Charlotte, was arranged when Agatha was about a year old.

From what we saw during Queen Charlotte’s season, the parent that Violet was closest to was her father. He was very involved in his daughter’s life and made sure that she was educated and looked after more than what her mother deemed necessary. Lady Ledger often seemed bothered by Violet and uninterested in her education while it was clear that Lord Ledger, who called Violet, “Beauty,” or “Brains,” as his affectionate nicknames for her, wanted his daughter to be a strong, educated, independent, open-minded and well respected woman more like Lady Danbury who he admired & liked greatly even before their relationship became romantic.

I believe there was more to the Lord Ledger and Lady Danbury love story and that it’s directly reflected in how close Lady Danbury is to Violet and the Bridgerton family. In many ways, Lady Danbury has inserted herself into Violet’s life like a stepmother of sorts and views the Bridgerton children as her grandchildren and Violet’s grandchildren as her great-grandchildren. It’s why she looks out for them among the ton now that half of Violet’s children are out in society.

Given Lady Danbury‘s closeness with the queen and her position in society as a powerful woman on the side of the newly titled members of society, she’s acutely aware of how complex high society is and how difficult it can be to navigate so it makes sense for her to Look out for Violet and her family the way that she does, especially given her connection to Violet because of her love affair with Violet’s father.

If you recall from Queen Charlotte, there’s a scene where Lady Danbury tells Violet. She is fortunate because she married her great love and she goes to church and lights candles to remember Edmond because that’s how Edmond lives on.

Lord Ledger was the love of Lady Danbury’s life and he has passed away and is no longer there. Lady Danbury’s way of keeping the memory of her love alive is by looking after his daughter and her children, because they are the remaining pieces of him which is really sad and beautiful at the same time.

And just as an added thought, if you’ve read the books, (which do not include any love story with Lord Ledger and Lady Danbury), you’ll know that Lady Danbury’s grandson & Hyacinth fall in love and marry and when Hyacinth tells Lady D that she’s going to be her grandmother now, Lady Danbury says that in her heart, Hyacinth has always been her granddaughter… this moment between the two may still happen if the show keeps book cannon couples and we get Hyacinth’s love story.

I love the bond Violet and Agatha have & can’t wait to see more.

[fanficwritingcentral]

A God's Grief (AO3 link)

Summary: Apollo gave a small heartbroken smile down at the hyacinth flowers that had entangled themselves with his fingers. He made no move to untangle them.

"How I miss you Hyacinthus." He said quietly, "how I wish to hold you, to make you laugh just one more time."

Note: I had a thought of Hyacinth flowers entangling themselves with whatever part of Apollo they could reach because Hyacinthus was aware enough to know Apollo was there and Apollo just being sad and here we are!

It's a short little thing but I hope you guys like it! 😘✌️

Apollo gave a small heartbroken smile down at the hyacinth flowers that had entangled themselves with his fingers. He made no move to untangle them.

"How I miss you Hyacinthus." He said quietly, "how I wish to hold you, to make you laugh just one more time."

He pictured Hyacinthus as he was, how his dark wild hair would glisten under the light of his sun, how his violet eyes filled with humour whenever Apollo would make a fool of himself for him, the way his muscles flexed whenever he trained. These memories would never wain, Apollo would remember every single bit of Hyacinthus for as long as he would exist. A curse and a blessing.

One hyacinth flower stem twirled itself around his pointer finger and gave a light tug and Apollo feel to his knees, unable to resist the command of his love, no matter the form he took.

He bowed his head amongst the flowers and felt them trail over his face, outlining the contours and wiping the drops of glowing tears from his eyes as he cried.

"For you I would have been mortal," he sobbed, "I would have taken all the pains it would have brought and been grateful for it, because you would be at my side."

A flower brushed the curve of his jaw and followed it down to his chin and up to his bottom lip and gave a light press before drawing back.

Apollo let out another broken sob at the touch, the closest to a kiss they would now ever get, and layed on the ground. His head was practically burried under the leaves and heard the light rustle as they lowered and twirled in his hair. He clenched a hand into the damp dirt at the base of the hyacinth plant and a flash of the blood drenched ground that this once was entered his mind before he banished it away.

It doesn't matter how long it had been, the pain would never dull. It could be burried, but never gone.

And so Apollo layed there, under what was now left Hyacinthus, as the light of his sun waned with his sister's chariot drawing closer and cried.