#civil war? never heard of her

[english-history-trip]

The day before his execution, Charles I was permitted to see two of his children one last time. Elizabeth and Henry Stuart had been in the custody of Parliament since they were six and two years old, and were now thirteen and eight. The rest of Charles's family were in exile in France, aside from his eldest daughter Mary, who had married the Prince of Orange.

At her father's instruction, Elizabeth later wrote an account of the meeting. An onlooker recalled that she was weeping so heavily that "the king said 'Sweet-heart, you'll forget this,' but that she promised that she "shall never forget this, whilst I live," and pouring forth an abundance of tears, promised to write down the particulars."

Charles instructed her that she was to obey her eldest brother as the new king, and named her some Protestant books to read to "ground her against Popery," also gifting her a bible. He advised her to forgive his executioners, "but never to trust them, for they had been most false to him and to those that gave them power." More personally, he asked that she "tell my mother that his thoughts had never strayed from her, and that his love would be the same to the last."

Turning to the young Duke of Gloucester, he set the child on his knee, saying "Sweet-heart, now they will cut off thy father's head." He explained that Parliament might try to crown him as a puppet king, but warned "thou must not be a king as long as thy brothers Charles and James do live; for they will cut off your brothers' heads when they can catch them, and cut off thy head too at the last." Little Henry assuaged his father's fear by exclaiming "I will be torn in pieces first!"

Elizabeth would die in her captivity a year later, catching pneumonia after being made to travel while already sickly, allegedly found with her head resting on her father's bible. Her simple grave in a local church was marked only with her initials, ES. Henry would remain in custody for another two years, finally joining his family in exile. Elizabeth's story - the innocent princess becoming a forgotten casualty of war, became a popular subject for Victorian romanticists, with Queen Victoria herself commissioning a marble statue for her tomb. The statue shows Elizabeth with her head resting on her bible, an iron grate in front being lifted away.

#I'd never heard about this #similar to the story of Edward Duke of Warwick's imprisonment at ten #victims of their parentage #stuarts #victorians #art history #the one by Millais looks like a cover for a Royal Diaries book #plucky princess daydreaming over her journal #wouldn't be a bad subject for one except she doesn't grow up to be a ruler herself #but there's no English Civil War princess pov as far as I know

[miquella-everywhere]

Rating the Demigods based off their Homes

Technically Leyndell is not Morgotts house but his moms, which he inherited after escaping the sewers she threw him into, but he also runs the place like the navy runs a ship, so everything is in perfect working order. Nobody has any clue who he is and I appreciate his commitment to the bit. 8/10 really cool scenery but could definitely use some dusting and giant dragon corpse removal.

The Moghwyn Dynasty is every health inspectors worst nightmare. General unsanitary setting and blood swamps, Albinaurics captured and forced to assimilate against their will, along with several war medics, and also Mohg has the body of his shriveled up half-brother in his freezer. But overall the ancient civilization that lived here before Mohg had pretty okay taste, especially since they built their city under an underground starry sky. 10/10 but only because the health inspector died and Mohg forged the health report.

Godrick snuck in after his failings at the Shattering and just straight up claimed the place as his own, so Stormveil technically isn't even his house. Also his presence alone is so rank that thorns have started festering outside of his castle. 8/10 to the Stormlords cause theyve got sick sense of style, but 2/10 to Godrick because he is a literal home invader.

Radahn does not give two shits about architecture, he clearly made Redmane based off of every other fort in the Lands Between and chose function over fashion, which is fair I guess, but also kinda boring. At least he strung up the all of the swords in Redmane and gave it some flaire. 4/10 because Redmane is so basic, plus -1 point for the tetanus hazard.

Raya Lucaria had an architecture course as an elective and Rykard committed himself to his GPA and developed his own aesthetic. He graduated top of his class and Rennala baked a cake for him. Best day of his life. Then he went up to Mt. Gelmir and was like, "I should totally make this place my house," and then he did because nobody had the balls to stop him. 10/10 for his commitment to the blasphemy aesthetic. And props to Tannith for doing a great job keeping the foyer the cleanest place in the Lands Between, but also 1/10 for general crimes against humanity.

Ranni follows the rule of, "if it aint broke dont fix it," which is exactly why she broke everything else in the world and then returned to her childhood home after the Shattering. Caria could definitely use some bedrooms though because where the heck does everyone sleep?? Or do anything else for that matter???? Caria: Bathroom? Never heard of it. 6/10 because the sparkly magic bits in the air are super cool but Caria Manor definitely should've been a legacy dungeon.

Miquella attended both Leyndell and Raya Lucaria architecture classes, excelling over everyone and beating Rykards score in the final exam by exactly one point, and yet has no idea why Rykard is so pissed at him. Then after disowning his dad he had the great idea to try and build a treehouse but grew his own tree first because he's an over achiever and has gifted kid syndrome. 10/10 because the aesthetic is elegant and immaculate, and everyone who has depression is trying to get there for free therapy.

Malenia went to architecture school with Miquella because she had nothing better to do and slept through every class. The most she did there was break up Miquella and Rykards final exam squabble and also couldn't care less about architecture because she's fuckin blind. Rates the Haligtree architecture 10/10 because even though she's blind, she's sure that Miquellas sense of style is very pretty. But also rates it a 2/10 because Miquella keeps stubbing his toes and tripping on the carved stone flooring even though he insists everything is fine.

The Land of Shadow is less of Messmers house and more of his eternal timeout corner. He temper-tantrumed too hard one day and Marika put him there then completely forgot he ever existed. -10/10 because the parental abandonment is so real

#shitpost #elden ring #godrick the grafted #starscourge radahn #miquella the unalloyed #ranni the witch #rykard lord of blasphemy #malenia blade of miquella #mohg lord of blood #morgott the omen king #uri posts

[slvtforoldermen]

Why Is It Wrong, If It Feels So Right?

Masterlist

Summary: Joel has doubts…

Pairing: NoOutbreak!DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns)

Genre: Smut with Angst and a fluffy ending

Warnings: Daddy kink, morally ambiguous Joel, age gap (20/56), unprotected piv (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

Word Count: 875

A/N: Happy 49th Birthday Mr Pascal!! 🩷🩷🩷 I love this man to my entire end, honestly he’s my comfort in these times 😭 I hope he knows how much he means to me and lots of others.

He shouldn’t be doing this. God, he watched you grow up, it’s wrong, it’s so so wrong. You’ve just come back from college, and here you are, underneath him, moaning as he pounds into you like it’s the civil war and a doctor is on the way to mutilate him. He knows what people would say if they found out, you’re only so young, nothing past a child. His best friend’s baby girl, getting drilled into by a man who has never felt so good in his life then he did in that moment.

“Joel?” The whimper ends off with a question, Joel slows his thrusts ever so slightly.

“What is it baby?” His voice is soft, gentle, and a groan escapes his lips as you clench slightly.

“You seem upset,” You mumble, looking up at him. “Did i do something?”

“Oh Angel, no no,” He whispers. “You didn’t do nothing wrong.” You nod and moan slightly as Joel changes the position, pulling you around so now he’s against the headboard with you on his lap and he’s thrusting up from underneath. “Just in my own head, darlin’, tell you after.”

“Promise?”

“Promise sweet girl,” He whispers against your shoulder, his thrusts coinciding with your grinding, and he groans. “Fuck babygirl, gonna make me cum.”

“Me too, daddy,” You whimper. God that word, he’d heard you say it so many times in his life, when you were a kid, and then just recently when he would fuck you into tomorrow. You knew it got him there, that it was practically a cheat code in his system in making him cum. But today was different; from the overwhelming emotion, he would be crying if your pussy wasn’t so tight.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me,” He whispers. He feels your cunt clench around him and then spasm as you shake before falling against him, his hand rubbing against your back.

He can’t cum. Not right now.

As if like magic, his cock falls out and goes soft. This hasn’t happened before, ever. He’s somehow managed to turn himself off. Maybe it was easier because he’s older.

You make a confused squeak as he rolls you off him, and he pulls his sweatpants back on.

“Joel?” Your meek voice came from the bed, and your hands reached his firm bicep, he feels your cheek press against his back. “You didn’t cum.” He shakes his head.

“It’s fine, baby,” He whispers and kiss the side of your head.

“No, I wanna—“

“Darlin’, leave it, alright,” He says, his voice stern and angry. But it wasn’t at you, no, he couldn’t ever get angry at you, not when you were looking at him the way you were looking at him now. “I have to go…”

“You promised…” Your quiet voice almost whimpered as he stood up to leave, grabbing his Tshirt from the floor. “You promised you’d tell me what was wrong.” Joel squeezes his eyes shut, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Was it me?”

Joel turns on his foot, grabbing one of his shirts that he’s left here over the week, and he pulls it over your head.

“Baby, it’s never you,” He whispers and kisses your forehead. “It’s just me, thinking too much.” You look so small in his shirt, and he sighs.

“Then can you tell me?” You ask, sad, big eyes looking up at him, as if a puppy begging for a treat. “Joel, please.”

“Babygirl… you just… you’re too good for me… and I’m… I’m too old for you, I’m a bad man,” Joel whispers, his hand presses against your cheek.

“No, you’re not-“ You started before he shushed you.

“I’m too old for you sweetheart, there’s no doubt about that,” Joel kneels in front of you. “And your dad-“

“Joel…” You sigh. “We’ve had this conversation, so many times, and we’ve always come out with the same conclusion… Why is it wrong, if it feels so right? That’s what you said to me, the first time.”

“I know but-“

“But what? But… I don’t turn you on anymore? But you don’t find me attractive? You’re just here out of pity?” You ask.

“No, baby- god, no!” Joel shakes his head. “I just… I feel so bad… knowing your father is right next door. I love you but that adrenaline of being caught doesn’t excite me anymore, it scares me, to no end.”

There was a moment of silence as you looked at him.

“You love me?” You say.

“What?” Joel replies, his cheeks flushing red under his greying beard.

“You love me!” You smile as you stand up and then you laugh. “You said that you love me.”

“Alright, have your fun,” Joel sighs, crossing his arms as you dance around, chanting the same three words, that he loves you. Though, he can’t help the smirk that appears on his face. It goes for a few minutes, before you settle, panting and walking back to his feet.

“I… I love you too,” You smile, still breathing heavily; Joel smiles widely at you.

“You do?”

“I do… I love you so so much.” Joel wraps you in his arms.

“My girl… I love you too.”

#slvtforoldermen #happy birthday pedro my love 🩷🩷🩷 #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[norrisleclercf1]

Hey, I saw that you were asking for Pierre ideas and I thought how it would be like Pierre dating Esteban sister

A/N: An actual French Civil War would break out in the paddock over this

"I'm sorry? You're dating who?" You cringe hearing the anger grow in your brothers voice, with each passing second. "Pierre, I'm dating Pierre." You whisper. You hang your head, not in shame, never in shame of dating Pierre. But, more so in the fact that Esteban refused to look at you.

"No, no you are not." Esteban growls, and you raise your head facing him. "Estie, I'm only telling you because you're my brother and I love you. He makes me happy," Esteban scuffs, refusing to hear anymore of this. "He's a snake, he'd trying to take my team from me, and now my sister? That fucker has no shame."

"Enough! Do you truly think Pierre would only date me to spite you? In case you forgot we all grew up together Esteban. Me, you, Charles, Pierre, we all grew up together." You didn't want to admit that his words stung, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Yes, I believe the only reason he's dating you is to fuck with me. And you're so naive and stupid to fall for it." Flinching you shake your head, and swallow hard. "I have to go," Your feets tangle in the chair and you trip rushing out of the room.

You hated how he could be so mean. That wasn't Esteban, he wasn't cruel, but he was hurt and tended to lash out at the cause of it. And right now, you were the cause of the hurt. Without thinking you walk into Pierre's drivers' room, earbuds in he doesn't hear or see you.

The burn of your eyes and throat bubble over as you move and climb into your boyfriend's lap. He tenses and goes to push you off but stops when he notices it's you and relaxes smiling as he pulls you closer. The first sound of your sob is muffled, pulling out his ear bud he notices your soft cries into his neck.

"Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Pierre goes into protective boyfriend mode and pulls you so close you could be fused into one person. "Nothing, just hold me." You whimper, Pierre wants to push more but knows it would do nothing but harm in this moment.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what could possibly cause this, and maybe a nosy worker heard the argument and texted Pierre what was wrong. But he was going to remain silent on the matter.

He holds you close and rocks back adn forth slightly, that you've cried yourself to sleep in his arms. Moving carefully, he lays you down and coves you up with his jacket, melting when he sees you take a deep breath, nosing it. Pierre ruffles your hair and slides out of the driver's room.

Walking down the hall Pierre sighs and knocks gently on Esteban's door. Esteband yanks it open, his frown turning into a downright scowl. He opens his mouth but Pierre holds his hand up and levels him with a glare that silences him.

"Let me say this, you ever, and I mean ever make her cry over you again, I don't care that you're her brother, I'll beat the fuck out of you. Second, I love her more than anything, and the fact you think I'm such a scumbag I'd only be with her to fuck you over, makes you weak. Keep your fucking mouth shut about us, you'll smile and be polite and apologize to your sister. She's the best thing I've got in my life, and I'd pick her over Formula 1 without a thought. Be a fucking man, swallow that 2 inch pride of yours, and when she's ready, not you, but her, you'll apologize. Have a nice evening." Turning around he walks back down the hall and slides into his drivers room.

"Pear?" Your voice soft has him breathing out in relife and walks over, crouching down to be eye level with you. "I'm here, baby. Go back to sleep." You nod and reach out, grabbing his hand and pulling him in, letting him lie down on top of you, enjoying the pressure of his body. "I love you,"

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #f1 angst #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre imagine #pierre fluff #pierre gasly angst #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly

[literaryavenger]

Happy Birthday

Summary: It's your birthday and the only person who doesn't seem to be excited about it is you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Angst. Fluff. Language probably. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This story was completely self-indulgent, but I hope someone out there likes it!

Masterlist

You’ve always been very reluctant to celebrate your birthday.

You haven’t had a birthday party since you were 12. The following year your mom died a couple of days before and neither you nor your family were in the mood to celebrate anything.

It wasn’t by any means unexpected, she had been sick for a few years, but it still hit you hard.

You were the youngest and were far too young when she first got sick to really understand everything going on.

You were 8 and all you really remember is watching your mom get more and more sick until eventually there was nothing more the doctors could do.

Her death hit you hard and you closed yourself off, never talking about it or even crying after the day of her funeral. To this day you’ve still never cried, in front of others or even by yourself.

You started exercising to channel all your energy, refusing to do anything more like the therapy your family suggested. 

When you were 15 you discovered SHIELD and decided you wanted to help others, so you signed up for the SHIELD Academy, working your hardest and pushing yourself to your very limit.

You ended up being not only the youngest cadet ever, but the youngest to actually graduate and then the youngest recruit at SHIELD at only 16 years old.

Natasha was very impressed when she heard about you and took a liking to you, convincing Fury to make you part of her team during her missions and teaching you everything she knows.

That’s how you ended up in the Avengers Initiative, not that you felt you didn’t deserve it since you know how hard you worked and everything you gave up to work towards this achievement. 

The team themselves were initially skeptical since you were barely 18 during the battle of New York, but they were quickly proven wrong when they saw how well you handled yourself against the Chitauri. 

You were devastated when SHIELD fell, but carried on as an Avenger, battling Ultron and then moving to the Compound with the team.

You met the actual Bucky for the first time when you were 22, during the whole Civil War thing with Baron Zemo. Like Natasha, you were on Tony’s team, fighting mostly Pietro, but the conflict eventually ended. 

It took Tony some time to get over the whole “Bucky killing his parents while brainwashed” thing, but, as he likes to say, he can’t call himself a genius without admitting that Bucky didn’t have much of a choice. 

Thanks to Tony’s help Shuri was able to find a solution to Bucky’s brainwashing faster than she would’ve alone, meaning Bucky didn’t have to go back into cryo and was pretty quickly cleared to join the team, about a year after the airport battle in Leipzig.

You were warmly accepted by everybody and, the more the team grew the more you felt at home with these people.

And now you wish you could burn down the whole compound because, somehow, Tony convinced you to have a birthday party for the first time in 13 years because, in his words, 'you only turn 25 once'.

Good news is you managed to make him limit the guest list to the team and other people close to you like Maria Hill and Fury. Bad news is you’re still gonna be the center of attention, which you hate.

You couldn’t stop Tony from making everyone dress up for the party, and you couldn’t stop the team from getting you gifts even though you insisted all you wanted was everyone together and to have fun with them since for the longest time nobody ever even knew when your birthday was. 

What you didn’t realize was that the only person more worried than you about your gifts was Bucky.

Since he joined the team the two of you have gotten close, starting with his first training with the team where he very loudly told Steve about his disbelief that someone as young and small as you could actually be an asset to the team.

You quickly put him in his place by taking him down after less than two minutes of sparring, taking full advantage of his underestimating you because he “didn’t want to hurt a pretty little thing like you.”

Admittedly he was impressed and wasn’t shy about letting you know that, while the rest of the team snickered at his initial shock when you pinned him down.

You became friends after that, not as close as you’d like but friends nonetheless.

If you were honest with yourself you’ve been harboring a little crush on the supersoldier, but he’s never shown any interest so you resigned yourself to just being his friend.

Something that you did come to treasure, though, is your and Bucky’s late night talks.

It started with you walking in on him in the kitchen on a late night where you couldn’t sleep, nothing new to you, but the two of you barely talked other than acknowledging each other.

You took a bottle of water and left.

A couple of days later you ran into him again and you stood there in silence while you made yourself a cup of tea and then left for your room.

A few days later again he was just sitting there and said nothing as you made your tea, except this time you put a cup in front of him and silently took a seat next to him at the counter.

Two nights later when you arrived at the kitchen he was already there with a cup of tea in front of him and one in front of the seat next to him.

You didn’t want to assume it was for you, but you took a chance when you noticed it was the cup you always used, a blue mug with Stitch on it that says “Let’s get weird”. Your favorite in fact.

You hesitantly sat down next to him and, without you having to ask or without even looking at you, he told you that the nights you stay up late because you can’t sleep you tend to be more quiet during the team dinners and while you hang out afterwards.

You didn’t say anything in return and just sat there, trying not to overthink how much he seemed to watch you.

But the more nights you spent like that, the more you two talked and you gathered quickly that Bucky is a very observant person, nothing more.

You loved the time you spent together after dark where you’d talk about everything and anything, but come morning it was almost as if it never happened, which you came to accept.

It weirdly made the nights you spent talking even more special, which was almost every night.

But back to the present, you’re currently getting ready with Natasha and Wanda, who know much more than you about hair and makeup and are always happy to help you out with getting ready for Stark parties. 

You put on the black cocktail dress with rhinestones all over the corset and a slit down the left side, then the three of you make your way to the party room and you take a deep breath before entering.

Everyone is already there, all dressed up in fancy clothes as they all shout “Happy Birthday”.

You laugh and say hi to everybody while they all take turns hugging you, there’s not too many people but everyone important to you is there.

Even Laura and Clint’s kids are there, which you consider a second family at this point, since Laura always did treat you like a daughter.

You hate to admit that it's a nice party.

Knowing you, everyone makes an effort to not put you too much at the center of attention and you just go around talking to your friends like every other party.

Eventually time comes for the cake and, the moment you kind of dreaded, opening the gifts.

Since it's the first birthday you allowed the team to celebrate everyone decided to go all in for your gifts, which you picked up on from the very first gift you open.

Pietro got you a first edition of “The Picture Of Dorian Gray” which is your all time favorite book, Wanda and Maria got you a leather jacket and an amazing pair of boots that you knew were expensive because you were all out shopping together when you came across them.

Steve got you a gold heart-shaped locker with a picture of the team inside it, Natasha got you a charm bracelet with a little charm to represent everyone on the team, and Sam got you a cute necklace with your birth stone on it.

When you open Fury’s gift you start laughing since it's a gun, a SIG SAUER P226 to be precise, which is very Fury.

“It was my first gun when I joined SHIELD.” He says with a smile and you smile back, knowing how much thought he put into this gift.

You open Clint’s gift next, a bow and arrow that he already taught you how to use, and Laura got you a pair of diamond earrings.

Your heart melts when you open Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel’s gifts, respectively a friendship bracelet, an Avengers action figure of yourself and a Stitch plushie.

The three of them hug you tightly as you say thank you and now you only have two gifts left, Tony’s and Bucky’s, and they’re both little boxes. 

You open Tony’s next, thinking it’s some fancy necklace or earring but you frown when you see a car key.

“Is this the key to your car?” you ask Tony, knowing full well you’re holding the key to an Audi R8 Spyder, the car Tony’s let you borrow so many times you’re now wondering if he’s gifting you his spare set of keys.

“No.” He says casually “It’s the key to your car.”

You’re even more confused and simply stare at him with your mouth gaped, not really processing the information.

“Y-you… You got me a car?!” You almost yell out of shock and everyone else starts laughing at your antics when you start basically jumping up and down and hugging Tony, squealing like a little girl.

“Well, come on, let’s go see it!” Tony says enthusiastically after you’ve calmed down, and you get up, just as enthusiastic, but are stopped by Steve’s voice.

“Wait, wait. You have one gift left.” He says, picking up the small box and giving it to you. “It’s from Bucky.”

You were so pumped up by the car, you almost forgot about it and completely miss the mischievous look Steve gives Bucky and the murderous glare Bucky gives back.

You also miss Bucky starting to protest before you open his gift, but he instantly shuts up when he sees your face falling the second you open it.

It’s a small necklace with a blue rose in it, it really looks like something you’d give a little girl more than a 25 year old woman.

You look at it for a minute, running your finger on it before you raise your head and look at Bucky.

The whole room goes silent as they all watch you worriedly, everyone noticing immediately that tears are streaming down your face.

Nobody understands what’s happening and nobody knows how to react or what to do, it’s like they’re all frozen by the sight of you being vulnerable for the first time ever. 

Meanwhile Bucky’s heart is beating so loud he’s sure everyone around him can hear it, and he feels himself starting to panic at the thought of having ruined your birthday with that stupid gift.

Everybody else got you expensive gifts and all he did was get you a small, cheap necklace that reminded him of a story you briefly talked about once on one of your late night talks about a necklace you had as a kid.

He saw it at the mall while looking for a gift for you, remembering the sweet smile you had on your face when you mentioned it and the fleeting sad look he thought he saw when you told him you lost it when you were 12.

He was really proud of himself for that gift, but the more he saw the other gifts you got the more he regretted his choice, especially after Tony gave you a fucking car.

And now you were crying, not saying anything while just looking at him.

He doesn’t know what to expect from you at the moment, nobody does, he thinks you might yell, throw his gift back at him, tell him how much you hate it and him.

But you surprise everyone by throwing your arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him tightly while crying into his shoulder.

You honestly forgot telling Bucky about that story and certainly didn’t expect him to remember it, especially since you always got the feeling that he didn’t care about your talks as much as you.

You just assumed that come morning he deleted everything you told him to make room for more important things, and you didn’t blame him.

But he didn’t.

What you didn’t tell him about the necklace is that your mom gave it to you because blue roses were her favorite, you had that necklace since you were born but you somehow lost it the day of her funeral.

That day you lost the two most important things in your life and cried yourself to sleep, and that was the last time you allowed yourself to be weak and cry.

Until today.

Bucky hesitantly wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back hoping to get you to calm down. He looks around at the rest of the team, panicking a little and not knowing what to do.

Everyone else is as clueless as he is, never having seen you in such a state before.

Bucky starts apologizing, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying, and he feels horrible that it’s because of him.

You shake your head quickly and pull away a little to look at him, wanting to reassure him you’re not sad or angry but incredibly happy, but words refuse to come. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and finally manage to speak.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” It’s quiet, but it’s something, and it’s enough to make Bucky let out a breath of relief at knowing you don’t hate him or his gift.

He brings you back in for another tight hug, almost forgetting about everyone else in the room as you hug him back without hesitation.

You’re honestly not even embarrassed at crying, all you care about at the moment is Bucky, his arms around you while he lets you bury your face in his neck, like you’ve been wanting to do for years now.

“Happy birthday, doll.” He whispers in your ear and, for the first time in 13 years, you really feel like it is.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #nick fury #maria hill #laura barton #nathaniel barton #lila barton #cooper barton

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Dandelion

Summary: You usually preferred the company of dragons to most people. The presence of a certain Targaryen prince threatens to upend your quiet life. Pairing: Soft dark!Aemond Targaryen/F!Reader (No Y/N, could be read as an unnamed OC)

Warnings: Familial abuse, negative self talk, canon typical violence, dub-con bordering on non-con, obsessive behavior, power imbalance, canon typical sexism. Please do not read if this will upset you. You are responsible for what you consume. NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: No Civil War AU! I will borrow a bit from other events that will eventually happen in ‘The Dance’ but I give them a different outcome because I do what I want. Reader is from an original Valyrian house and the only physical characteristics they have are purple eyes and silver hair. She is also a few years older than Aemond. Enjoy!

Word Count: 21k :)

You’d never been good at running. You were too slow. Too clumsy. Too self-sacrificing.

No.

You were terrible at running. You couldn’t outrun your brother as he swore and raged and tugged at your hair. You couldn’t outrun your mother’s prized stallions when they turned course toward you in the field. You couldn’t outrun your father when he saw the mess you’d tracked into your family’s manse alongside your sister.

But you were able to hide her in her rooms and take the blame for all of it. She was so small. She didn’t need to be hurt like that. You could take it, couldn’t you? If you were feeling brave, you’d take her hand in yours and sneak out to the rolling valley that was always spotted with wildflowers.

“Do you know that you can make wishes on dandelions?” Your sweet sister, Vaella, asked one day, holding a bunch of dandelions in her hand. Most of the stems had started to wilt in her too-tight childish grip. But you eased them out from between her fingers with a smile and let her tell you about the “magic” she had heard about from her friend, a little lady from House Tyrell. You righted the stems as best you could, smiling as you did. Wouldn’t that be nice? To blow away a few petals and have your wildest desires come to fruition?

“Shall we make a wish then?” You asked, holding out a few for her to take again. Her jagged little nails, something your mother always scolded her for, caught on your fingers and you tried not to hiss as you felt your skin give way beneath them. Blood bubbled to the surface as your sister quickly apologized over and over again even as you waved her off. “Make your wish!”

Vaella dutifully shut her eyes and then sucked in a deep breath before quickly blowing away all the dandelion seeds. You knew her wish, Seven knew she had told you about it enough: a kind, loving husband, with enough gold to rival kings.

You followed suit but frowned as you tried to find a wish worthy of asking. But, as you heard Vaella’s melodic giggles beside you, you knew. You tightened your blood-tinged fingers around the flowers. I wish for Vaella to have everything good and beautiful in this world.

Then you heard your father on his horse barreling toward you. You knew it would only hurt more if you tried to escape his wrath and you’d never outrun him anyway—your mother knew how to breed and train the fastest horses this side of the Red Mountains and Dorne.

So, no. You weren’t good at running. But you were almost decent at playing the part most everyone else wanted from you. You learned what to say and how to act to stymie your parents’ rage and your brother’s annoyance. You knew how to do your duties as a highborn lady who had a fortunate Valyrian bloodline. Your family had always been dragonkeepers. Even before The Doom, your family had tended to the dragons that had conquered most of Essos, knowing their likes and dislikes, calming and caring for the animals and their riders. It had been a noble profession then and it was a noble profession now. Of course, not all of your bloodline had taken up the mantle, but it was expected that at least one of every generation, no matter their gender, would take up the duties as the decades passed, even before the Dragonpit had been constructed.

Loyal to the Targaryens and their dragons. Always. (Even if your family had tried to dissuade to no avail the royal family from constructing the Pit, saying that the dragons were never meant to be caged so.)

Your family had been adamant about the Valyrian blood in their veins staying pure. When they tired of marrying Velaryons or Celtigars, and House Qoherys died out, they sought spouses from across the Narrow Sea, from Volantis and the Old Blood who could prove unbroken Valyrian ancestry, or from Lys, the city where Valyrian Blood was (said to be) strongest. But never a Targaryen. They had never asked and your family had never reached so high. You were servants to no one but the dragons and the Targaryens. Your allegiance and skillset had made your House wealthy beyond measure, it was only bolstered when accompanying Velaryons on foreign voyages or devising new money making schemes with the Celtigars. Advantageous marriages with dowries worthy of princesses helped, too.

Being a Keeper was a family tradition you couldn’t run from. And, if you were being honest, it was one of the few things about your family you did not resent. Your duties in The Pit kept you away from your father’s anger and your mother’s sneers. Your elder brother Rhogar’s duties in The Pit were easily circumvented and you knew enough to steer clear of him. You found purpose and camaraderie amongst the dragons and hatchlings. They could not speak, true, but they were your truest friends since your sister’s wish had come true and she had absconded to Volantis to live the life of a noblewoman of the Old Blood with her doting husband. It was a quiet life. But you knew better than to ask for more. You still wished for something on dandelions every time you had the chance. For a friend. For love. For the continued prospering of Vaella and her growing family on the other side of the Narrow Sea. You knew better than to wish for the love of your parents or brother. No amount of blood or dandelion magic would ever grant you that.

However, when the war with the Triarchy and the man known as the Crabfeeder proved enough of a problem that the conflict-averse King Viserys finally started to treat it as a war, you were happy to accept the summons to Dragonstone. There were a handful of dragons now roosting there, ready to be flown out by their riders to aid the Velaryon and royal fleets. After you arrived, you had been handpicked by Lady Laena Velaryon to care for Vhagar. It had been the honor of your life, alongside being Laena’s handmaiden for the day of her wedding to Prince Daemon. She had been a fierce warrior astride Vhagar, an even fiercer mother to her twins, Rhaena and Baela. She was not but a three namedays older than you but it might as well have been decades. She was so different from you. So poised and lovely and kind—and her family adored her. Her brother, Ser Laenor, whom you also saw frequently with his dragon Seasmoke, had named Rhaena the heir to Driftmark just after Baela had been betrothed to Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin Strong’s firstborn son, Prince Jacaerys. The celebration Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys had thrown to mark the occasion was lavish and lovely. You had wished upon three dandelions that night, wanting the best for Baela and Rhaena.

“One day,” Laena said to you, climbing down from Vhagar’s saddle as you held one of the twins’ hands in each of your own, “you will make a fine mother.”

“Someone will have to learn to stomach the scent of dragon if they want to bed me, my lady.” Not to mention that you were nearly considered an old maid already. You were sure the only reason you hadn’t been married off was because your parents hadn’t deemed you worthy of the dowry they’d once set aside for you. They’d prefer to keep their gold which you added to with each moon. And their repeated, cruel comments about how you’d never marry because of your looks, ‘horrid’ personality, and court ineptitude and made you believe you would be alone for the rest of your life, only accompanied by dragons.

Laena laughed and let her twins leap into her arms. “You are the blood of Old Valyria, my dear. Anyone would be lucky to have you, smell of dragon or no.”

She had been kind to you. Effortlessly, so.

Then, when she had been killed by a scorpion bolt fired by devotees to the Crabfeeder, your world tilted on its axis. The twins’ hatchlings, Morning and Moondancer, had cried and trilled for ages, feeling her riders’ grief in their small nests. They only rested on the short boat ride to Driftmark as they nestled in your hold. You did your best to help them, to make sure they fed, as Daemon tried to prepare for the rest of the royal family who were descending on Driftmark for the funeral. Daemon himself was a mess. How could he not be? Everyone who knew the couple saw how in love they had been. How in love Daemon was still. You’d heard whispers that Corlys had blamed Laena’s death on Daemon’s pride. The Rogue Prince had flown out to meet the Triarchy’s forces alone and Laena had been the only aerial defense to keep him safe. And, perhaps a small part of you believed that.

The night before their arrival, Vhagar finally landed back on the island. You’d heard whispers of how she had raged against the Triarchy’s fleet after feeling Laena’s death and watching Corlys pull her body from the water. The old dragon had nearly destroyed the entirety of the enemy’s fleet singlehandedly before disappearing into the clouds. But now?

You took careful, slow steps toward her as the moon continued to climb higher into the sky. Her giant head swiveled as you approached and she grumbled, shaking the ground beneath your feet, before she recognized your scent. Laying your hand to the near-scalding scales on her neck, you tried to press all the love you could manage into the touch, your sorrow, your calm. “I miss her, too,” you whispered in Valyrian. “But it is good to have you here.”

The old dragon gave another rumble and it almost broke your heart at how sad she sounded. How much heartbreak could one beast endure?

“We will get through this together, won’t we?”

**

You stood behind Baela and Rhaena and watched as ships with black and red sails docked. Morning and Moondancer were coiled around their shoulders, finally sleeping after a night filled with more crying and your desperate attempts to feed them. Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin disembarked first, followed by their sons, Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys. King Viserys followed soon after with his hand being held by his youngest, Prince Daeron. Queen Alicent was next with her other three children, Princess Helaena and Princes Aegon and Aemond, following closely. The family was greeted solemnly but warmly by the Velaryons and Targaryens—aside from the icy stares you saw thrown in Daemon’s direction by Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys, and Ser Laenor.

It would not be the first time you’d heard of troubles in the royal family. There had been rumors of a feud between Rhaenyra and Alicent after the latter’s marriage to Viserys. It had been quashed eventually, the pair falling back into their close bond soon after Alicent’s father, Otto, was dismissed from his position as Hand of the King and replaced with Princess Rhaenys. Apparently Otto had tried to convince Alicent that Rhaenyra would kill her friend’s children to keep her promised crown—which was preposterous because, even tucked away on Dragonstone, you’d heard how Rhaenyra had doted on her half siblings. You knew for a fact that it had been Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent together who had pushed for the new law which allowed daughters to inherit titles and lands. The princess had also been the one to pick the dragon eggs for each of their cradles, too. Only two had hatched, unfortunately. Aegon’s Sunfyre and Daeron’s Tessarion, but you had been told that Princess Helaena had claimed Dreamfyre just a few moons ago.

That left only Prince Aemond.

He was a few namedays older than the twins and offered them a small smile when he reached their side. His purple eyes flittered over to you for a moment and something passed over his face, something you could not name. But it was quickly over and he was offering a few hushed words of comfort to his cousins.

Princess Rhaenyra was the first to actually greet you, cradling her pregnant belly. “It has been some time, has it not, my lady?”

You managed to smile as you curtseyed. “It has. I hear Syrax is faring well; expecting another clutch soon, no?” You’d once been one of the half dozen of keepers tasked with the princess’ dragon and had been the most indulgent with Rhaenyra wanting to constantly be on dragonback despite the others knowing she was supposed to be humoring lords vying for her hand. You had also been the only one to be able to calm Syrax during Prince Jacaerys’ early birth while the Princess and her husband were visiting Dragonstone. Three other Keepers had perished, either burned or eaten, as the little prince was born but not you. You had calmed her. You had been the one to discover that Syrax had laid a clutch of eggs alongside her rider. The Princess had been kind and gracious when you told her of the news.

The Heir Apparent smiled, sweeping a hand over her stomach. “It is quite a blessing, truly.”

You continued to speak for a little longer, watching as Rhaena and Baela walked to their father’s side as he spoke to Alicent. Rhaenyra was just as pleasant as always. But, despite the important company, you heard something that nearly had you frowning.

“Who is that?” Aemond asked Baela. A quick glance to the side let you see the prince pointing at you.

Baela gave your name with a small smile, making sure to enunciate your House’s name, too. “She is Vhagar’s Keeper.”

The night continued and you were dismissed as the family gathered for supper. It was only when you were in the comfort of your chambers did you allow yourself to cry. Hot, giant tears slid down your face as you tried to muffle your sobs beneath your fingers. It felt like your ribs had cracked open to reveal your broken heart.

When you found little respite from your grief with sleep, you slipped out of your rooms and toward the shore where you knew Vhagar roosted for the night. She once again greeted you with a huff, nudging her head into your stomach and nearly bowling you over.

“I know,” you murmured, smoothing your hand down her dark scales. “Me too.” Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and it took you a moment to realize it was Prince Aemond, trying unsuccessfully to sneak back into High Tide. His shoulders slumped when he caught your gaze and he dragged his feet to your side after you waved him over. “It is late to be out of doors, my prince.”

His mouth pulled into an even deeper frown. “I know, my lady. But you are out at this hour, too.”

You nodded, continuing to lathe attention on Vhagar. “I am not royalty. The Triarchy may have been pushed back to Essos, but it would still be deemed unwise to be without an escort for someone of your status.”

The young prince looked down at his feet, digging the toe of his fine leather boot into the sand. “I just wanted to see Vhagar. Uncle Daemon said she was the biggest dragon in the world.”

His boyish countenance had you softening. You could only imagine what it was like to be the last Targaryen without a dragon, a birthright. “She is. The last of the Conquerors’ dragons. Come, stand by me. She is tired now; she’s usually much more agreeable like this.”

Even in the dark, you saw Aemond’s entire face light up and he was quick to do as you instructed. He followed your quiet guidance to let Vhagar learn his scent before touching her, placing his hand beside yours. “She’s a beauty.”

You hummed and Vhagar shifted the slightest bit, the sand spitting beneath her giant body. “She is. A great and terrible beauty. And she mourns with the rest of you for Lady Laena.”

Aemond hummed in response and you watched his shoulders slump the slightest bit, as if he needed to be reminded of the loss his family had just suffered, or the reason why he’d been put on a boat and shuffled away from his home. He had been so enthralled with simply being near Vhagar. And you knew it was foolish of you to do anything of the sort, but you smiled and shielded his eyes when Vhagar took flight again, sending sand into the air.

“Come, I have something else to show you.”

The prince followed dutifully as you led him toward the small patch of grass near High Tide’s outer curtain. Small white and yellow flowers had sprouted not a few hours ago and you were quick to grab two. You were even quicker to grab a knife from your belt and cut across your thumb when he was not looking, instead tracking Vhagar across the sky. You let the crimson stain the flower’s stalk before handing it to him.

“This is a weed.”

You laughed at how he scrunched his nose as he stared at the flower. “There’s magic in those petals, my prince, just as there is magic in our blood, in our words. Trust me when I tell you that you will have a dragon one day. You need only wish for it and wait.”

Aemond’s face twisted, like he was ready for you to tease him, or laugh at him. But you simply held up your matching, blood-lined dandelion and blew its petals away into the ocean breeze. I wish for him to have a dragon and be happy. He watched you for a moment longer before, almost delicately, blowing the petals away to float alongside yours.

A light coming on in the fortress had you turning. Someone was probably looking for the prince. “It is time for you to retire, my prince.”

The young prince nodded as he turned to you, the pale moonlight bleeding across his silver hair. “I would have no other hands tend to my dragon.” His hands curled to fists at his side for a moment before releasing, as if he were scolding himself. “We are the Blood of Old Valyria.”

**

It had been nearly six years since you saw Aemond. Much had changed.

The war with the Triarchy had fizzled. It still lingered, of course. There were whispers that the Triarchy was attempting to hire any and every sellsword company in Essos but nothing had come of those whispers though. Not yet, anyway. Most of their forces had been pushed back (again) by Princesses Rhaenys and Rhaenyra while Prince Daemon and Ser Laenor destroyed their food and weapon stores in the Disputed Lands. It was not a surrender, unfortunately, but Westeros was thankful for the reprieve.

You had become Morning and Moondancer’s main keeper, too, your duties shifting after Vhagar disappeared into the clouds and didn’t return. It was a blow, to be sure, to lose another link to Laena even after you and the twins were moved permanently to Driftmark while Prince Daemon stayed to command the armies from Dragonstone while also flying to the Free Cities of Essos to try to broker alliances (some whispered that Prince Daemon took his nephew, Prince Aemond, alongside during his mission but you could never know for certain). But Baela and Rhaena were growing into their own and you were so happy to guide them, in any way they needed. Their dragons were now large enough to be ridden for short distances and you had nearly cried when you watched them circle the island for the first time. The twins often came to you for anything they were too embarrassed to ask their father or too impatient to ask their septas or grandmother Rhaenys. Daemon doted on them, indulging their almost every whim and laughing alongside them on dragonback whenever he had a moment to visit. Seeing them together almost always twisted at something in your chest. They were a family. You wouldn’t have that, would you? You were far past the age of majority and had stopped attending any sort of function where you could even attempt to find a suitable match. What was the point? No one had ever been interested in you in that way and you had all but resigned yourself to simply being a Keeper.

It would be a quiet life for you.

But your quiet was disrupted when Baela and Rhaena were invited to the capital for King Viserys’ nameday celebrations alongside their father. They insisted on bringing their dragons—who were you to deny them? So, you found yourself wrinkling your nose as the large boat approached the capital, the familiar and awful scent of the city wafting toward you. After docking, you were met with a few familiar faces that helped you lead Moondancer and Morning to The Pit to be safely sequestered alongside the other royal dragons. The pair took to their temporary roosts well enough, recognizing the scent of Meleys and Seasmoke through the stone halls. As Caraxes settled near them, they were more than content.

“The lost daughter finally returns home, eh?”

The grip you had on Moondancer’s reins suddenly seized at the sound of your brother’s voice. Slowly, you moved to loop them around the chain on the wall before turning to face him. Rhogar had not changed much. His mouth was still curled in a scowl. His silver hair was still cut short. His periwinkle eyes were still cold as ice. And you knew better than to instigate anything. “Lady Rhaena and Lady Baela requested I accompany their dragons.”

Rhogar hummed. “They do seem fond of you. I was sure they’d send you away after Lady Laena’s demise and Vhagar fleeing your care. It seems they were taking pity on your failure.”

“Yes, they’ve been very kind to me.” He had always been good at cutting down to bone with few words. He’d also once literally cut you down to the bone after you were selected to be Vhagar’s Keeper. You could never win with him. Ever. There was no negating his hatred of you. It had started when you were born a girl instead of a boy and Rhogar thought it meant he was ‘forced’ to be the Keeper of your generation. If he had forgotten that your aunt had also been a Keeper until her death, you could not and would not say. He had wanted to be knight, apparently, despite his poor form with a sword and shield. “You forced this on me!” he had once spit at you. When you had taken up the mantle of Keeper, you’d half-hoped that his malice would fade. It did not. If anything, it grew like a raging fire. With every compliment from another Keeper or Targaryen directed toward you, he only hated you more. It was almost as if he stayed in The Pit to show anyone and everyone that he was the better Keeper. He tried. You would give him that. But the other Keepers turned to you for advice. They asked you for the balm you had created to soothe any wayward burns. They respected you. And the dragons preferred you. Before you had been moved to Driftmark, you could easily move between duties for all the dragons, each of them never minding your presence in their stall. You would never forget when Meleys had snuffed in Rhogar’s face before turning to you. And you had a feeling that Rhogar would never forget it either.

It had been Rhogar who had first called you a witch, the word dripping with venom. After all, how could one person, a woman, be so adept at caring for the dragons? The other keepers found it hilarious and adopted the nickname for you, too. They called you a witch. Sure, it was usually said with a teasing smile or an accompanying wink, but the moniker remained and endured. You didn't deny it. The blood you always knew to spill on dandelions was your secret. If you were a witch, so be it.

“Mother and Father will expect you home tonight.”

The small fortress built just outside the walls of King’s Landing hadn’t been your home for years. Hadn’t been a home since your sister sailed away and even then, you would make the argument that it had been Vaella alone that had been your home. Your one solace. Stepping through those doors again would not be a homecoming. But you knew better to deny them. “Of course.”

You had been surprised to have your pick of the handmaidens at the Red Keep after you spoke with Lady Baela about your family requesting your presence. You had been fully prepared to be ridiculed by your parents for smelling of dragon in their fine house, but you were bathed in a fine copper tub and then lathered in rose oil before Rhaena came in with a dress she promised would look lovely on you.

And the simple gesture nearly had tears coming to your eyes. Rhaena was quick to notice and all but threw the dress onto the bed before grasping gently at your hands. “What troubles you?”

“N-nothing, my lady. I fear I am just a touch overwhelmed. It has been some time since I have been in the capital.”

Rhaena frowned, a knowing look. “Do you wish to return here perma-”

Your grip tightened on her hands before you could even think to stop yourself. “No! No, never. I am happier with you and your sister than I have ever been in this city.”

The brilliant smile Rhaena gave you as she nodded was enough to calm your rapidly fraying nerves and she was quick to change the subject to the tourney starting tomorrow, the first part of the celebrations. “But mostly I am hoping that my toes will not be crushed each night—I’ve heard the men from the Riverlands are particularly awful at dancing.”

It was with Rhaena’s tinkling laughter still in your ears that you tried to brace for the hurricane that was your family. The smallfolk of King’s Landing called your family’s home the Little Red Keep for how your forebears had modeled it after the Royal palace. There were verdant rose bushes still lining the outer walls. There was still a small pond beside one of the turrets, filled with water lilies. There was still the large white dragon of your house’s sigil painted across the grand front door, gold keys in its mouth. It had not changed.

It was not home.

The door was opened by an unfamiliar servant and you were led toward the large hall where you could already hear your family chattering. It quickly halted once you stepped inside. You father stood from his chair with a placid smile on his face which you knew only meant he hadn’t had his first drink yet.

“There is my daughter.” He skirted around the table and hugged you, smashing your cheek against his chest. The medallions on his doublet were sharp against your temple, biting and cold. “It has been too long since you have been home.”

You hummed and tucked your chin to your chest as he held you at arm’s length. “You’ve been receiving the gold I’ve sent, haven’t you?”

He laughed and you tried not to recoil as his meaty hand curled over your upper arm. “Yes. You have been a dutiful daughter. It seems being sent away from the frivolities of the capital turned you into a respectable Keeper.”

There it was. The first sting. You knew better than to argue, to say that Princess Rhaenyra had often preferred you to care for Syrax, that Prince Daemon was always pleased with your care of Caraxes, that the other Keepers (aside from your brother) seemed to defer to you for any sort of special care that the royal mounts may need when you were still stationed at the Pit. “I am happy to have pleased you.”

“Come, come,” he said with a final squeeze to your arm that nearly had you wincing, “we’ve had all your favorite foods prepared.”

A single glance at the spread of food let you know, for the umpteenth time, that they didn’t know you at all. There wasn’t a single dish you favored in any capacity. There was your brother’s favorite roasted boar alongside your mother’s favorite lemon cakes, and everything else had your father’s favor all over it. You were nowhere to be seen. But you still took the seat your father pulled out for you and hoped for the best.

You only had to bite back tears twice and hadn’t needed to dodge a punch or a slap or even a fork thrown in your direction. Perhaps it was a good night. Maybe the years away had softened their disdain for you. That happy thought quickly disintegrated when you were pulled to a stop near the manse’s front door. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Father, Mother. You as well, Rhogar.” You smiled, almost convincing yourself that you hadn’t been sitting on needles the entire time.

“Where do you think you’re going? It is nearly the hour of the owl.”

While it may have been an innocuous and reasonable question from any other parent, this was your father. “Prince Daemon has been kind enough to have chambers reserved for me at the Red Keep-”

“So your family’s home is not enough for you now?”

Your eyes closed. You shouldn’t have come.

**

“Are you well?”

You nearly recoiled from the question but managed to smile instead. “I’m fine, my lady. Thank you.”

Baela frowned, amethyst eyes traveling across your swollen cheek and the way you were favoring your left side. “Are you certain?”

“Truly. Just a bit of a tumble last night.”

She didn’t look like she believed you and Rhaena who sat beside her didn’t look convinced, either. Thankfully or not, the doors to Baela’s rooms opened and a flurry of servants filed in and set out a spread of food on the table near the window where you all sat. One of the handmaidens who had accompanied you all from Driftmark, Isla, you thought her name was, turned to Baela with a smile as she set a plate filled with boiled eggs on the table. “Are you excited, my lady?”

Baela nodded, lips turning up a brilliant smile. “Of course! And I am so pleased that you will be at my side, too.” The pair spoke for a little longer before the group was dismissed and the three of you turned toward the lush breakfast.

You slowly spread a bit of cherry jam across a hunk of bread, eyes darting between the twins as they filled their plates. While it was normal for them to invite you to break your fasts together, you did not want to gain their ire, too, by prying.

Thankfully, it seemed Baela was happy to speak anyway. “I have news.” She set her utensils down and looked at her twin and you with another smile. “Princess Rhaenyra has invited me to stay at the capital so that I may spend time with Jace and learn the ways of court.”

Rhaena beamed, reaching to lace her fingers with her twin’s with a matching giggle. “Grandmother has said it is time for me to learn how to rule High Tide.”

Your heart felt like it was being crushed beneath a blacksmith’s hammer. While you always knew this day would come, you’d half hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. You listened as they laughed, excited about their futures, before they cried about being separated, before laughing again at remembering they’d never be too far away on dragonback. But you’d wished for them to be happy, hadn’t you? They sounded so happy. Both of them looked at you, matching smiles on their faces and you hoped your smile was convincing as you reached out to lay a hand over theirs on the table. “You both will be wonderful. I am so proud of you.”

The next morning, after another cruel night under the shadow of your family, only continued to squeeze at your battered heart as Princess Rhaenys pulled you aside with a small smile and quietly relieved you of your duties for caring for Morning as there were “plenty” of Keepers in the Velaryons’ employ on Driftmark. “I’m sure you understand,” she said, squeezing your arm.

You nodded with your bruised heart in your throat. “Of course, my princess.”

“You have been an exemplary Keeper to my daughter and granddaughters. But I would not ask you to choose, so I have made the decision for you.”

The compliment did give you a small bit of levity as you walked to the Dragonpit to see to your duties—you were an exemplary Keeper. Morning was not set to leave for another fortnight and you still had Moondancer to care for, didn’t you?

“I’ve been given orders to tend to Moondancer,” another Keeper said before you could even question her presence in the dragon’s roost. “Were you not informed of it, my lady?”

Apparently not. “Oh, my mistake,” you muttered. “I-”

“You would have your hands full, my lady. I am happy to be selected to be Moondancer’s keeper. It is not of your station, anyway.”

What did that even mean? It echoed in your mind as you listlessly moved through the Pit, finding mundane things to do now that you were unanchored. Morning was already being tended to by the Keepers that had sailed from Driftmark. The most fulfilling thing you did was helping a few of the newer Keepers care for the clutch of eggs Dreamfyre had laid two moons ago. You were willing to bet that the eggs would eventually be given to the babes that would be born to Rhaenyra or Alicent’s children. Being this close to the majority of the royal family once again let you be privy to a fair bit of gossip. Apparently there had been rumors that Alicent and Rhaenyra were using the lull in the war to strengthen alliances within the Seven Kingdoms. Most believed it would be Aegon to be married off first.

You just hoped they were happy.

“I thought you’d be out in the valley,” one of the Keepers said as you helped them fit the last egg into the crackling fire pit to keep it warm.

You frowned as you pulled off your thick gloves, pushing them into your belt. “The valley?”

The other Keeper frowned, too. “Have they moved? Seven Hells, no one tells me anything!”

Before you could ask just what they meant, your attention was pulled by the sound of metal on stone which you knew only meant one thing: a knight had been foolish enough to come into The Pit. Had they not heard the stories of men being boiled between breastplates by dragonfire? You never cared for the noise and you knew most dragons did not either, the grating sound too sharp for their liking. But soon enough, two whitecloaks rounded the corner and set their sights on you.

They called your name and you stepped forward, expecting to be summoned to the Great Hall or one of the twins’ chambers. “Prince Aemond requests your immediate presence.”

You wordlessly let them lead you away, fully prepared to be deposited into the Great Hall of the Red Keep. Instead, you were all but hefted onto the back of a horse and moved through the city that had all but cleared out to attend the first rounds of the tourney just outside the Lion Gate. You could hear the cheers from the crowd, a dull roar muffled by distance. The knights escorting you said nothing, two silent sentinels on matching white destriers on either side of your horse. They led you through the Dragon Gate and a little further north where the start of the unnamed valley started to slope. “We take our leave of you here, my lady,” one of the knights said. “The prince waits for you below.”

All of this just felt so strange but years of keeping your mouth shut and your head down kept you from asking any questions. You urged your horse down into the valley, dismounting when you reached the shade of one of the few trees. The valley was speckled with wildflowers and dandelions, not unlike the small valley that had been your sanctuary with Vaella during your childhood. The grass was high and soft as it brushed against your legs with each step. It was beautiful and empty. Prince Aemond was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, you thought of getting back on your horse and riding away, far away, until you passed The Wall in the North and then kept going. No dragons. No family. No bruises. No lies.

Just as quickly as the thought came, it left. The dragons were your life. Whatever duties you were to be assigned, no matter how low or asinine, you would welcome them. Then, something prickled at the base of your skull and you turned your head toward the sky just in time to see the sun blotted out by a hulking, winged form. The ground shook but you hardly cared as you finally set eyes on Vhagar again. A familiar ladder was unraveled and you watched a tall man descend as you approached the old dragon. Her massive head swiveled in your direction and you could not help but smile as she rumbled in greeting. She remembered you.

“Good. You’re here.” The voice was cool and raspy. Dangerous.

“Prince Aemond?“ You asked, feeling more and more stupid by the second.

As soon as his boots hit the ground, he turned to you, long silver hair catching the wind as your heart leapt into your throat. A cruel cut was jagged and slashed down his face, only broken by the finely crafted eye patch securely fastened over it. And while it embarrassed you to even think it, you thought him... handsome. Almost excessively so. He had all the refinement of old Valyria now with a hardened edge. The type of beauty usually reserved for portraits in the books your family hoarded and never touched, smuggled from a home long ago destroyed in The Doom. The barest trace of a smile pressed at his already upturned mouth as he strode toward you. “Do not tell me you have forgotten me.”

“I-I have not, my prince. I...” You shook your head as if that would stop the improper and impossible thoughts from turning and quickly dropped into a shallow curtsey. “It has been some time, has it not?”

“Six years,” he said simply, taking another step toward you. “You have not changed in the slightest. You are just as I remember you.” His remaining eye drank you in, moving from your silver hair to the tips of your boots. And you felt every inch of his gaze.

“It seems I have been left uninformed about quite a number of things. I had not known you had claimed Vhagar.” At the sound of her name, the dragon huffed. It brought a smile to your face and you reached out to press a hand to her giant neck. “She is a worthy mount.”

The small smile the prince gave you grew by a fraction. “Yes. I’ve heard a few of the smallfolk call her Queen of the Dragons.”

“A fitting name,” you said, smile growing. With a final pat to her scales, you turned to him again. “Now, I’m assuming you are wanting my opinion on the other Keepers at the Pit to care for her, no? So, I-”

“You have been left wildly uninformed, my lady.”

The ice in his tone had you freezing. “I apologize, my prince, I-”

“Did I not say that I would have no other hands tend to my dragon?” He took a single step toward you and the instinct to run immediately rushed down your spine. The only thing keeping you still was the heat of Vhagar at your back. “You are to be in the valley from now on. I have been told your other duties have been relegated to other Keepers.”

It all slid into place, the strange dismissals, the aversion. All of it. “Everyone knew of this assignment, my prince?”

And his strange smile widened. “Of course. I thought it polite to let you finish your time with my cousins, but everyone knew you were to be mine.”

**

You slowly shifted in your seat, trying to relieve some of the ache in your back from your father’s latest rage as you clapped alongside Baela and Rhaena for the winner of that round’s joust. The tourney was nearing its end and you were dreading every second that passed. Your entire life had been turned on its axis. Being reinstated as Vhagar’s sole keeper meant you needed to live in the Capital once again. Your family’s ire and disappointment had become daily battles, only broken by your escape to the valley or by invitation by the twins to accompany them to the festivities. It was a strange and almost sad moment for you to realize that a valley had once again become your solace and safe place and it had been less than a fortnight since you’d docked.

Despite Vhagar’s immense size and age, she had always been easy to care for. Her scales kept her from harm from anything manmade. You were sure even scorpion bolts would do little more than annoy her. Holes in her wings, from battles long since relegated to story and song, did not grow in size nor hinder her flight. You kept an eye on them regardless. The most pressing of your duties was actually maintaining the saddle atop Vhagar’s back, making sure it was still safe for the prince in any and every capacity. The only trouble you ever had with Vhagar was when she ate too much, ten aurochs instead of her usual seven, and her stomach protested. It was an easy enough fix. At least for you. Some of the other keepers called you insane for coaxing the old dragon to eat a large bundle of flowers you had collected from the valley and then spending an hour or so pressing at the hardened scales of her stomach to help her ache.

It was easy for you to settle back into a routine with her. Even with Prince Aemond standing, unmoving, beneath the shade of the valley’s tree with his eyes trained on you. He liked to watch, you found. Quiet. The day you had met him for the first time in the valley had been your longest conversation with him, even when he handed you new robes and requested you wear them when attending to Vhagar, he said less. The clothes were finely made, of course, and had the same treatment as your other Keeper robes to keep the heat and any accidental flames from burning too quickly...not that it would be of any use against Vhagar’s flames, but you still appreciated it. What gave you pause, however, was the strange crest stitched over the heart. It was the standard Targaryen crest except it was in an unmistakable shade of blue. Deep and bright. It was Aemond’s personal rendition of the signal, his personal coat of arms. You caught him looking at it a handful of times when you told him that you needed this or that for Vhagar, a strange gleam in his eye. But you would take his strange looks and almost unnerving quiet over your family any day. Every day. You learned that the whispers of him brokering alliances in Essos alongside Prince Daemon had been correct—and that was how he’d lost an eye. An overpaid assassin had come at him in the dark of his bedchambers in Qohor and had not expected the younger prince to be so adept at defending himself. For better or for worse, the blood spilt had gained Qohor’s favor and Aemond had allowed the mages of that city to work their strange magick on his face to keep the injury from hurting him as time went on. There were also whispers that the night the assassin came was the night Aemond had claimed Vhagar. “She could smell the dragon blood in ‘im,” one of the smallfolk had said, voice carrying across the stalls of food and linen of the early morning market just a few days ago. Was that true?

“You are fidgeting more than little Viserys.”

You immediately stopped your obvious poor attempt at moving discreetly and sighed, ignoring how Baela was looking at you. “Apologies, my lady.”

Baela sighed, shaking her head. “You have nothing to apologize for. I simply wish to know what has you so agitated.”

“Tis nothing. I think I am simply nervous about the feast tonight.”

At the mention of the feast, the last of the name day celebrations for the King, Rhaena leaned around her sister with a broad smile to look at you. ”You are finally coming? You have missed all the others.”

That was true. Every night after you finished your duties, you were all but summoned back to your parents’ manse, once again trapped within the walls of your family. But apparently, tonight they deemed you “enough” to be seen in such a public arena. Or perhaps they’d tired of the questions about your whereabouts and thought the last event would calm them.

You weren’t even sure if you wanted to attend. It had been too long since you’d been invited to anything of this level of pomp and pageantry and you were certain you’d either have absolutely no fun or you’d make an idiotic spectacle of yourself if you did manage to find a bit of frivolity in it all.

After promising the twins that you would save them a dance at the feast after the tourney’s jousting finished, you excused yourself, knowing you were expected back at your family’s manse sooner rather than later. It was almost a miracle that they’d let you attend this portion of the tourney anyway after learning that Prince Aemond had dismissed you for the day after his morning flight.

“I will see you this evening, my lady.” He had said it with such certainty that you didn’t even try to argue that he’d be much too involved with other guests to even notice you, so you simply agreed and thanked him again for the time away from your duties.

The trek back to the manse was short, much to your dismay, but you straightened your shoulders as you were let inside and heard your mother chattering away with one of the other highborn ladies of court in the solar. Just for a moment, you thought you could go upstairs to your chambers, unnoticed by anyone.

“Ah, there you are. You’re late.”

But the hope was all for naught. You turned and greeted the other woman at your mother’s side after dipping your head toward your mother. “Is there something you need of me, Mother?”

Your mother gave a tittering laugh and she pointed at a rumpled bit of cloth draped over an opened box near the end of the settee in the corner of the room. You moved toward it, pulling away the fabric that must have served as a wrapping for the box, and opened it to reveal a gown. Inky black damask fabric was lined with the deepest blue beads you’d ever beheld, stitched carefully to detail a three headed dragon over the breast. Crimson hued eyes were looped on each, twinkling in the dying sunlight spilling in through the open windows. The cut would show off your shoulders and the curve of your neck, dipping only slightly between your breasts, while your arms would only be slightly covered by loops of more black fabric, cut loose to give you freedom of movement. Simply put, it was gorgeous.

As you pulled it fully from the box, you noticed a small bit of parchment tucked into the folds of the skirt. You retrieved it, careful to have the dress’ bodice lay over your arm to avoid wrinkles, and unfolded it. A small token of my gratitude. The small note was not signed but there was only one person you knew it could be. A blue dragon. Gratitude. He didn’t owe you gratitude.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” The woman at your mother’s side said with a dreamy sigh.

“Yes, it is,” you murmured. After all, there was no way you could deny it. The gown was exquisite. You would need to speak to the prince about this. It wasn’t necessary. “I-”

“I was telling Lady Webber that we’ve decided that I will wear that gown to tonight’s feast,” your mother said, a smile on her face.

“But…” The rebuttal died on your tongue as you looked at your mother’s growing smile and the unknowing look on Lady Webber’s face. This was a trick. Your mother knew you wouldn’t refuse her in front of company because the consequences would be catastrophic. So, you pushed a smile to your face and nodded, swallowing your pride and argument. “Of course. And I know she’ll look radiant as always.”

Your mother’s chin tipped up, pleased. “I’ll have one of the maids bring Vaella’s gold gown for you.”

You nodded again. The gown was beautiful but nothing like the one you held now. But still, you carefully folded it back into the box and took your leave, hiding the note between your fingers as you trudged back to your chambers and tried to keep your head held high. Letting them know they had won by crying or screaming or pouting wasn’t an option. You weren’t a child anymore.

Handmaidens eventually filed into your room and lathed you with oils that made your skin soft and made you smell like the roses that were growing outside the manse’s walls. They tightened the corset on the back of the gown until you winced and only then gave a final tug to finish, saying, “the lady of the house said you are to look your best.” They then made sure you had a dainty gold necklace around your throat, golden dragon pendant falling just above your cleavage, to finish the look after you slipped into the soft soled shoes Vaella had left behind alongside the gown. You did look beautiful. There was no denying that—there was also no denying that this gown held no candle to the one Prince Aemond had sent. And you could not forget that the necklace around your neck had been discarded by your mother years ago for being out of fashion in her mind. Your family wouldn’t have you looking like a lowborn beggar, but that did not mean they would ever allow you to shine on your own. You just hoped Prince Aemond would not be insulted. But, again, you knew he’d be too busy to notice anyway.

But it was fine. This was what you grew up with—this is what you knew how to survive. This was them being almost kind. It was a kindness that they did not remark on your poor posture on the carriage ride up to the Red Keep as the setting sun started to bleed red over the city. Your family was announced as you walked in and your parents hissed for you to behave yourself, “don’t embarrass us more than you already do,” before getting swept away by their friends to enjoy the festivities. Rhogar quickly fled your side, too.

You managed to find a seat near the doors and the others at the table greeted you politely but largely kept to their own conversations as you picked at the food in front of you. Large crowds like this always made you nervous. Mayhaps that was why you’d never found a husband. As promised, you danced with both Rhaena and Baela but when you saw Prince Jacaerys walking toward his betrothed, intent on a dance of his own, and Rhaena had tugged at your sleeve and nervously asked if she looked all right when she spotted Lord Corwyn Corbray walking toward her, you assured her that she was beautiful, and quietly excused yourself back to your seat and another few bites of dinner.

You glanced up at the head table, unsurprised to see it filled with silver haired royals. Of course, Rhaenyra’s sons inherited their father’s dark curls, and Alicent’s auburn tresses were as beautiful as ever, but it was still silver silver silver as far as the eye could see. But there was one silver-haired prince missing from the table: Aemond was nowhere to be seen.

But you hardly had the time to think of his absence when Rhaenyra’s carefully braided hair almost seemed to sparkle in the torchlight as she and Alicent stood, each with a golden goblet in hand. A hush quickly blanketed the crowd.

“We thank you all for joining us tonight as we celebrate my father, the king’s, nameday. It has been a trying few years so to be able to come together like this is a blessing from the Seven themselves.” The crowd cheered, raising their goblets in response. “And we have more to celebrate.”

Rhaenyra looked to Alicent who was smiling softly at the princess, her goblet curled close to her chest. Rhaenyra whispered something to her, a matching sweetness in her gaze, before Alicent nodded and raised her goblet higher and you heard the crowd around you murmur, trying to discern what she was about to say. “It is my honor and privilege to announce that all of Westeros will be unified with the marriage of Prince Aegon to Prince Qoren’s heir, Princess Aliandra Martell.”

The crowd erupted in applause and, as if on cue, the doors beside the head table opened and orange and gold spilled out into the hall and a Dornish delegation swept in, headed by a man you assumed to be Prince Qoren Martell. At his side was a stunning woman, draped in similar gold and yellow with a golden headpiece fashioned to look like the sun settled over her dark hair—that must be Princess Aliandra. Prince Aegon rose from his seat and walked to Aliandra’s side and dipped his head before holding out his hand for her to take. She readily did and preened as he kissed her fingers.

The crowd cheered again and room was made at the tables for the Dornish company to join the feast as Qoren and Aliandra were given seats at the head table. King Viserys stood and welcomed Qoren himself before they sat beside each other. It was only then that Aemond reclaimed his seat on his mother’s right, leaning to the side only slightly to murmur something in Helaena’s ear which coaxed a small smile from her.

But it seemed that the announcements were not finished as Rhaenyra and Alicent still stood. Again, Alicent raised her goblet, “And I am blessed to announce that Princess Helaena and Lord Stark will be married, joining the houses of ice and fire!”

The crowd erupted, again, and you watched as Helaena stood while Cregan Stark moved through the crowds and up to her side. An adorable pink had settled on both their cheeks and you weren’t sure if anyone else would notice, but Cregan slowly held out a hand toward her, low and mostly hidden, and Helaena took it, curling her fingers over his. That simple bit of affection had your heart leaping. You knew Princess Helaena had an aversion to most forms of touch, so to see her happily accepting his hand was beautiful. The men of the North were known to be loyal and devoted—the look on Cregan’s rugged features made it seem as if he were already besotted—and that was what Helaena deserved, the gentle princess who always spared a kind word whenever you crossed paths in the Pit.

You joined in the raucous applause and raised your goblet along with the rest of the crowd before Viserys stood again and announced that Aegon and Helaena would take the first dance of the night with their betrothed and soon the hall was filled with music. Aliandra and Aegon were a swirl of black and yellow fabric as they turned about the floor, a command of the dance. Cregan and Helaena were more content to take up less room and smile at each other as they moved through the steps. It was entertaining to see how vastly different the couples were, but you thought it suited them.

Soon the floor was filled with more couples as one song bled into the next and then the next. You had no girlish hope that you’d be asked to accompany someone for a turn about the floor, so you happily took advantage of the extra room at your table and let your posture fall from its rigid line and indulged in a few more bits of cake, too.

Rhaenyra danced with her sons and Ser Harwin. Alicent was swept out onto the floor by Prince Daeron. There was love there. In that large, powerful family. Ser Harwin eventually took Helaena for a spin around the floor, making her laugh, as the Princess and the Queen regained their seats at the head table. You watched them between bites of cake. They bent their heads toward each other, whispering for only the other to hear with smiles on their painted lips.

They may both be married and they may love their spouses, but you knew there was something special, something other, between them. Something that usually only existed in song and story. Just for a moment, you wondered if anyone would ever look at you like the Princess was gazing at the Queen. You wondered if anyone would ever hold you like how the Queen was tugging at the Princess’ wrists, pulling her close, like you were something to be treasured, protected.

Probably not.

“My lady.”

You nearly dropped the piece of cake you were trying to bite. Turning in your seat, you saw Prince Aemond standing behind you, hands neatly folded behind his back. His purple gaze dragged across your face as you stood and curtseyed, hoping you didn’t have any cake smeared on your lips. “Prince Aemond.”

Without a word, he curled his fingers and turned, ordering you to follow him into the shadows behind one of the many pillars of the hall. You nearly slammed not his back when he suddenly stopped before turning to you again, close enough for you to feel each of his breaths against your hair and surround you in his scent of cold mint and dragon, tinged with steel. His thin lips were set in an even thinner line as he reached out and touched the edge of your golden sleeve before you had the chance to step back. “Was the gown I sent not to your liking?”

Your heart dropped to your knees and you resisted the urge to curl into yourself, as if you could hide your dress from him. “I…I adored it, actually. It is the most beautiful gown I’ve ever beheld. But, my mother requested it for tonight’s feast. And,” you cleared your throat, trying to pass the lump growing behind your teeth. It always felt wrong to speak of your family so kindly. And it felt wrong to lie to Aemond who had only been trying to treat you kindly. Hadn’t he? “And who am I to refuse my mother anything?”

But some small voice at the back of your mind was whispering that you needed to apologize and make sure it never happened again, for both your sakes. “I am truly sorry if you feel as if I have slighted you. It was never my intention and never will be.” You paused and tried not to recoil when Aemond’s gaze did not waver from your face. “I would not be comfortable accepting such a fine gift again,” you added, keeping your voice low. “I would not have you debasing yourself in any way-”

The words stalled on your tongue when his fingers skimmed up your arm before sliding across the ridge of your collarbone to pluck at the golden chain of your necklace. He pulled until the golden dragon pendant rested in his palm. “I will give you anything I deem suitable.” Then, before you could do anything, his hand closed over the pendant and he yanked. The clasp snapped against your skin and the rest of the necklace fell slack, broken. He pocketed the necklace before reaching into the finely constructed doublet stretched over his chest and pulled out a small silver chain. A necklace. Even in the dim light, you saw that it was finely crafted, its twisted rings braided together delicately. And, at the very bottom was a charm of a dandelion, no bigger than the nail on your forefinger. And Aemond was quick to fasten around your neck, long fingers sliding over your pulse and tapping—just once—against the vertebrae just beneath the base of your skull. “It’s perfect.”

The metal, warmed by being tucked so closely to his skin, was almost scalding. The dandelion charm slipped beneath the edge of your gown and hung between your breasts. Against your heart. “Th-thank you. But, I don’t feel as if I can accept it.”

“But you will,” he said, lilac eye burning into yours. “I had it fashioned in Qohor.” He whispered it like a secret.

“I…” What could you possibly say to that? Questions upon questions started to storm through your mind but the only thing you could say was an unsteady, “you were in Qohor ages ago, my prince.”

“I was.” Then he reached out his hand. “Dance with me.” His tone broached no argument. But didn’t you owe him that much? He’d sent you a gown that you didn’t wear. You’d once again tried to refuse a gift from him. This wasn’t…this didn’t feel right. You were just a Keeper. He was a prince. You’d overstepped with Lady Laena but that had felt different, almost reciprocal, in your affections for each other but you were always aware that you were a servant of sorts, no matter your highborn status and Valyrian bloodline. This didn’t feel like that…this felt different.

You couldn’t say no.

You placed your shaking hand in his and let him lead you out toward the dancing masses. You watched the crowd part for him as you took your places off toward the side as the next song began. Eyes were crawling all over you. You could feel them. The answering whispers sounded like a buzzing fly behind your ear but you could not discern what they were saying—not when Aemond looked at you, even as your hands dropped for a moment. You were quick to wipe your sweaty palms on your gown as the song began. The dance was fairly simple, one Vaella had drilled into you during your childhood, but as Aemond reached for you, long, roughened fingers curling over yours, you nearly forgot the steps. If he noticed your fluster, Aemond didn’t say anything, continuing to lead you through the dance with all the grace princes of your childhood stories possessed. As you spun beneath his arm, his other hand sliding along your waist, you tried to steady your heart with little success, his fingers searing through your gown to brand your skin. As he pulled you closer as the dance intended, your eyes shot to the long expanse of pale skin of his throat.

“Are you going to speak or should I be content with your silence?” He asked, voice low enough just for you to hear.

The barb stung and you tried to not flinch when he pulled you closer and then urged you backward in time with the song. “What would you have me say, my prince? I am sure I would bore you with my stories of my time in the Pit or on Dragonstone.”

“Will you not let me be the judge of my own feelings, my lady? Or will you rob me of that, too?”

“What have I robbed from you, my prince? If I have offended-”

“Offended? My lady, you have done more than offend me.”

Aemond’s grip on your hands tightened when you tried to pull back, continuing to drag you along in the dance. “I am sorry, my prince,” you whispered, the words cracking on your throat. “I did not know that my mother would take your gift. She is…she takes everything she wants from me.” You hated the words coming out of your mouth, hating how weak you sounded. “I never-”

Aemond yanked you to a stop, your chest colliding with his with each hurried breath you took. The song continued on, the couples dancing beside you were a blur of colors at the periphery but all you saw was Aemond’s light eye staring down at you as he leaned closer, wrapping his arm around your back to drag you ever closer, your other hand pinned with his between your chests. “Is that what you think? That a gown has soured your presence for me?”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to understand what he was saying over the roaring of blood in your ears. All of this was inappropriate. All of this was near scandalous. All of this was Aemond.

And, just for a moment, it was silent between you, only buffeted by the music continuing to play. “You alone have consumed my thoughts. For years.”

That didn’t make any sense but you still let him push and pull you through the next few steps as you tried to understand what he was saying. “If my presence has caused you discomfort, I shall remove myself from your employ, I swear to you. It was never my inten-”

The hand that had been holding yours swept to your face and his calloused thumb pressed against your bottom lip, robbing you of your thoughts and stalling the words on your tongue. The heat of him was near scalding, even through his leather and your fine gown, enveloping you, surrounding you, like a dragon’s fire.

He hummed, pausing for a moment to think—he always chose his words carefully. “No. No, my dandelion, you will not rob me of your presence. I have waited too long for this.” He pulled in a low breath, like he was trying to restrain himself. “I shall see you tomorrow after your duties finish. I expect you do not need reminding as to where, yes?” He asked, nearly demeaning.

You shook your head, his thumb sliding across your lip and heat burning your throat.

He hummed, again, and leaned down a little further, just enough for his breath to bloom across your parted mouth before he stepped back just as the song finished. He clapped along with the other dancers for the minstrels, never once taking his eye off you. He grabbed your hand and pressed a firm kiss to the back of your fingers before turning and walking away without a word.

It was not until you were home again, hours later, that you realized he’d called you my dandelion and your neck had bled from where he’d snapped your necklace.

**

How does one say no to a prince and keep their head?

Trick question: you don’t.

It had been nearly a moon since the feast and the dance you’d shared with Aemond. While he continued his silent watching as you tended to Vhagar, he would usurp any time you might have had to yourself. He had luncheon brought out to the valley. He would have you take tea with him and Helaena in the gardens if Vhagar decided she needn’t be tended to that day, searching for sharks to eat out of Blackwater Bay. He’d have you climb up into Vhagar’s saddle as they landed to see something that he thought needed tending to or mending. (And while he never moved to touch you, he burned like a fire at your back as you worked.) He had you inspect the hatchlings’ nests to make sure they were properly cared for (as he loomed behind you). He did the same with the clutches of eggs kept within the Pit as well.

It soon became something of a common occurrence for you to be “accompanied” by the Prince to the Dragonpit. While most of the Keepers took it in stride, having trusted you in the past, your brother once ground his teeth so hard as you halfheartedly looked over the chains on Sunfyre that you could’ve sworn you heard one of his molars crack.

And when Aemond asked why your eye was swollen shut the next day, you knew he didn’t believe you when you said you’d fallen off your mother’s horse. But you never denied him anything else. Anything he asked of you, you gave. That was what you were raised to do. Loyal to no one but the Targaryens and their dragons. If Aemond felt the need to investigate, he never gave you any indication other than a soft hmm rumbling in his throat.

You told yourself that you should be thankful the prince was doting on you so. If his strange affections at the feast had been any indication that he felt more for you (which was preposterous–you were nearly ten namedays his elder!), he had not acted on them other than the infrequent murmurings of the nickname My Dandelion. The heat you had felt vanished the moment he stepped away. The only habit of his you could not truly comprehend was his nickname for you.

Lucky. Yes, that was what you were, to know he appreciated your care of Vhagar. He cared enough to essentially install you as the overseer of the Keepers. Or perhaps it was making sure that the gold you were paid was being earned and he felt the need to give you extra duties as Vhagar was fairly easy to keep appeased. Lady Laena had doted on you as well, hadn’t she? Of course, her affections had been overtly platonic and familial, and Aemond’s were decidedly not in some instances. But there was no way you had garnered his attention in that way. How many times had you been told by your parents and brother that no one would ever want you in that way?

You scratched at your chin, trying to ignore your racing thoughts as the sky was starting to bleed an inky purple. It was the first light of dawn and you had hoped to check on the hatchlings before Aemond took his morning flight. One of the other Keepers had mentioned that two of the smallest dragons had been fighting and some blood had been spilled. While dragons were largely hard to kill, they were still not immortal, especially when they were so young. You’d wanted to make sure there hadn’t been any infection in the wounds and to see if you could settle them separately.

You heard whispers from the smallfolk as you passed. Whispers of the Targaryen madness, whispers of their dragons being an abomination to the Seven, whispers of how Rhaenyra would never be a suitable queen, whispers of the crown inching closer to the Old Gods instead of the Seven with the betrothal between Helaena and Cregan. Or how the blasphemous, bloody gods of the Rhoynar would come to usurp the Seven because of the match between Aegon and Aliandra. And you wished this had been the first time you had been privy to such whispers, but only having taken true notice of them a fortnight ago.

Whispers.

Whispers.

Whispers.

They unnerved you. They weren’t…right. You heard them too often to be idle gossip and too outwardly for them to be a true passing thought. Something or someone had come to King’s Landing and had started the whispers. Purposefully.

The whispers came to a head as you hurried toward the Pit. A crowd had assembled, far larger than you’d ever seen this early in the morning, filling the street to near capacity, all of them looking toward one man that stood atop the edge of a fountain, proselytizing. He was missing one of his hands and was wearing roughhewn clothes. His unkempt, grey beard swayed with each exaggerated word that spilled from between his half-rotted teeth.

“These Dragon Filth will lead us all into ruin! Think of your families! Think of your eternal souls!”

The words themselves had your blood turning to ice in your veins but it was the answering, near-gleeful shouts that had you running. And, as if on cue, you heard the crowd turn and start to follow.

You nearly fell through the Pit’s open floors as you careened by the guards stationed near the doors, shrieking at them to be ready, that an attack was coming. But you scarcely heard if they replied as you sprinted down, down, down. You undid the chains on Dreamfyre first, screaming at her to flee, to fly. Her dark eyes nearly blazed as she looked at you before she tore past you with a roar, stretching out her wings as soon as she was able. Screams from the crowd were nearly musical as you set about freeing Vermax, Syrax, and Arrax next.

“Go! Fly!”

The thundering footsteps of the crowd were growing closer. You could hear the scrape of swords being unsheathed, of axes battering against the door or sliding against the stone floor. They were coming.

Just as you were reaching for Sunfyre’s chains you were yanked back by a rough hand grabbing at the back of your tunic. You were thrown to the ground with a scream that quickly died as your skull bounced against the stone.

A man you didn’t recognize loomed above you with a rusted sword in hand. “Dragon filth!” He raised his foot and stomped it down onto your stomach twice before you could even try to move or defend yourself but you were able to grab his ankle and roll as he went to do it again. You felt his bones twist and break beneath your fingers as he screamed and you stood, your ribs protesting. A flurry of movement to your right had you screaming, matching the scream Sunfyre let out, snapping his chains before he let out a bellow of fire just as you ducked, reducing his attackers to charred flesh and bone in moments before spreading his wings and taking flight. You scurried out of the roost and toward the next, knowing that was where the hatchlings were kept, and your heart plummeted as you heard the sounds coming from within.

The hatchlings were screaming—dying. You threw open the door to see two men hacking away at the nest, their daggers bloody.

“Stop!” You wailed, throwing yourself forward and catching one of the men’s arms. Wrestling for control of his dagger was a short affair as the other man’s fist quickly connected with your cheek and nearly took you from your feet again. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t give up. Not when you could still hear the little dragons crying for help. You lurched toward the nest and managed to curl your hand around one of the small dragons before you screamed, a dagger thrust through the meat of your forearm. But still you curled toward the nest, trying to keep them safe—if you could just save them-!

Blood coated your tongue as you picked up the dragons and you barely had the wherewithal to look down to see the handle of another dagger buried into your side as the men beside you called you a “dragon’s whore!” and a “demon’s servant!” Your knees knocked together as the dagger was pulled from your side and you clutched desperately to the hatchlings as you teetered backward, heartbeat roaring in your ears, but they were cruelly ripped away from you.

For the second time, you hit the stone floor and a heavy boot collided with your cheek as a final cry came from the nest. Just as your vision started to blur, you saw the roof of the Pit shake, raining down stone and dust. There was a thunderous roar that you could feel in your marrow just before the world went dark.

**

The world swam back into focus slowly, in a swirl of creams and blacks and reds. It took you a moment to realize you were in one of the many chambers inside the Red Keep, carefully propped up against a small mountain of pillows with a blanket across your waist, embroidered with a familiar three headed dragon in black thread that shimmered like gems in the muted sunlight, seeping into the room from around the edge of a heavy curtain. You only had a moment to appreciate the fine furnishing before a stab of pain which seemed to pop and fizzle across every inch of your body had you wincing, eyes clamping shut as you bit your lip to keep your whimper quiet.

That’s what you knew how to do. Stifle your noises. Make yourself silent. It always helped. And you could not stop the flinch which shot through you when someone’s hand settled on your shoulder.

“Apologies, my lady. I did not mean to scare you!” The Septa at your side squeaked as she yanked back her hand.

Your eyes opened again and you had to breathe through the sudden nausea that rushed over you in a wave. “N…no apology necessary.”

“I will call for the Maester. And I believe your family has been waiting to see you, shall I let them in?”

Before you could answer–a polite but firm no–the door opened and your parents and brother stormed into the room. You briefly saw a handful of handmaidens trying to keep them back before the door was firmly shut behind them. Your mother burst into tears at the sight of you, fat droplets falling down her cheeks, before all but hurling herself toward you with a cry of, “oh, my daughter!”

You bit back a yelp when her hands, covered in rings, grabbed at your arms, poking and prodding at you as her touch moved higher and higher until she was grasping at your face. If she noticed your wince when her nail scratched against what could only be broken skin, she didn’t reveal it nor did she pull back.

“My lady,” the septa started gently, rising from her seat, “the maester said-”

“I do not care what that old man has said!” She screeched, nails biting into your skin for a moment. “My daughter has been…” The rest of what she was going to say, and you were sure it was going to be quite the show, was drowned out as more tears spilled and she shook her head.

You’d only seen your mother like this once before. It was when Vaella was getting married. Of course, those were supposed to be happy tears; she was sure to cause a scene so more people looked at her than at the bride. It was all a show. Crocodile tears dabbed away with a silk kerchief. Fanning her face. Whispering to anyone who would listen that she was the mother.

Despite the throbbing of each of your limbs and the stabbing pain behind your eyes, you looked to see your father and Rhogar standing beside the bed, doing their best to look concerned as the Septa walked out of the room. If you were an outsider, you may have believed their pantomime. But you knew. They didn’t care. All of this? All of it was for show for anyone who was watching. They were the distressed family of the person being cared for by the royals.

Your father stepped to yourself and pressed a flat, unmoving hand against your shoulder, a frown tugging at the sides of his mouth. “How are you faring? You look ghastly.”

“You look like you have nearly-single-handedly saved the Targaryen dynasty from an immeasurable loss.”

Everyone in the room turned to see Aemond stride in, shoulders back and eye entirely focused on you. Your family was quick to curtsey or bow and then shuffle back to make way for him to step to your side. Aemond paid them no mind before he cupped your face. His grip was surer as he touched you, almost familiar. The touch of his thumb skirting across one of your many slow-healing bruises had you shivering, or perhaps that was the way his light eye was focused entirely on you.

“You are healing well, my lady,” he said quietly, just as his finger looped around the necklace still at your throat, pulling the dandelion charm out from under the chemise (which was definitely not yours) you were wearing.

That same, strange heat started to smolder in your stomach as you looked at him, watching that small smile you saw so infrequently start to push at his lips. But now was not the time to ponder that–after all, it could just be a bit of nausea–as you had other, more pressing, concerns. “The hatchlings, my prince, did they-”

“You saved all you could, my lady.”

That meant some had died. Hot, angry tears immediately stung your eyes as you shook your head, only exacerbating the pain radiating across your body. “How many? H-how many of the little ones-”

Aemond moved to grasp at your hands, gently, softly, as he shook his head. “You need not worry about that now. They will be avenged.”

“We apologize for her childish tears, my prince,” your mother said, voice pulling you away from the prince’s gaze. Her comment only made the tears burn hotter as you tried to blink them away. Shouldn’t you know better? Tears gained you nothing. Tears changed nothing.

“They are not childish,” the prince said, still not turning to give them a glance. “She mourns with my family.”

The Septa swept in again and cleared her throat, thick eyebrow arching high enough to disappear into her habit as she looked at your mother for just a moment, before curtseying in Aemond’s direction. “The maester has been summoned, my prince.”

The prince nodded but did not move from his place at your side, long fingers sweeping lightly over the bandages you saw over your arm and then brushing against your temple.

“We are grateful you have extended your family’s maesters and healers for her care, my prince,” your father said as he stepped forward.

“As I said,” Aemond started, not pulling away from you at all, not moving his gaze from your face, “House Targaryen owes her a great debt. It would be in poor taste for her not to receive the finest care this land offers.”

Everything burned. The skin he touched, his minted breath against your lips, his unrelenting gaze on you. It burned. For better or not, you could not tell. All it was, was consuming.

“If we may, my prince,” Rhogar said, voice low, almost shaking as he spoke for the first time since coming into your temporary chambers ears, “I know my sister would be well rested in her own bed. We can never repay your House’s kindness-”

It was only then that Aemond looked away from you, dropping his hand to his side. “I would not have my lady withdrawn from her chambers until she has fully recovered.”

“We understand the debt you feel you must repay, my prince.” Now it was your mother’s turn to try, once again dabbing at her damp cheeks with her kerchief. “But it is unnecessary. We know she is but a guest here. We would not repay one debt with another for her care.”

“Tell him,” your mother said through gritted teeth, varnished smile starting to wane. “Tell him you do not need to be coddled so!”

There would be hell to pay if you didn’t. Your mouth opened and-

But Aemond simply waved his hand, a flick of the wrist as if he were batting away a gnat. “I will hear nothing of it. The Queen and Princess Rhaenyra both have ordered daily reports on her health.”

“We understand that, my prince.” Your father argued, tone low and placating, as his own periwinkle eyes bored into the Prince. “But we have been kept from my daughter’s side since the attack. She belongs with her family-”

“She belongs here.” Aemond’s tone was cold, broaching no argument. It was the tone of a king. The tone of a dragonrider. And why did something twist behind your ribs at the sound of it? Or was it because his simple sentence had your family looking as if they’d all been collectively slapped. Your mother’s mouth dropped and you saw your brother look to her, questions in his eyes, before they both turned to your father.

“The maester is due shortly. I would advise you all make your goodbyes now and I will have word sent when it is suitable for you to come again.”

After a stretched silence, your mother came first, pressing a too firm kiss to your temple and whispering a rushed, “do not embarrass us,” into your ear before stepping back. Rhogar was next, each of them murmuring his best wishes into your cheek just loud enough for Aemond to hear but not convincingly in the slightest. Your father was last, taking your hands in his in a strong grip that had you wincing, heat rippling up your arm to burrow beneath the bandage where you were certain dozens of sutures were holding your skin together. The look in his eyes had you instinctively trying to pull back, out of his hold, but he held firm.

You knew that look well. Too well. It had been the face of your nightmares since you could dream.

“Daughter mine, I trust you will-”

His words, threats or otherwise, were drowned out by the door opening and the maester being brought in, a flurry of other healers behind him. Aemond stood back, spine pressed against the wall as you were looked over, poked, and prodded. You learned that your stab wounds were healing well, possibly aided by the three days you spent unconscious. “You didn’t move at all!” The maester said with a smile. He also said that he would leave Milk of the Poppy at your bedside to help with any residual pains you were bound to have and that he would come back after dinner to check the mobility of your arm.

It was only when he and his entourage were finished that you noticed Aemond had not left the room at all during the commotion. He stood sentinel near the door, arms crossed over his chest. And, as the chamber door closed softly behind the last of the parade of maesters, you were left alone with him. Again.

A nervous tickle started to grow at the back of your throat and you tried to will it away, head a little lighter thanks to the few drops of Milk of the Poppy you’d been given beneath your tongue a few moments ago, as you awkwardly tried to push yourself higher onto the pillows with only one arm when he started to walk toward you. The effort was only marginally successful and a sharp pain from your side nearly buckled your uninjured arm anyway. By the time you settled again, you were strangely out of breath. But still, you knew you had to say something. “I am once again in your debt, my prince.”

“There is no debt. I would do it a thousand times over, Dandelion.” He then looked you over, something you couldn’t place in his eye, a look you’d seen a dozen times before and couldn’t name. “I will have the handmaidens tend to you before the maester comes again. Dinner will also be delivered. I am assuming you still like the honeyed chicken and carrots.” It wasn’t a question and the prince didn’t give you time to say otherwise before striding out of the room as a gaggle of handmaidens—who you knew usually tended to Queen Alicent—streamed in. They were quick as they helped you move from the bed with delicate, careful movements.

A shining tub was hauled in soon after and filled with steaming water. And, even when the group of handmaidens squawked about waiting for the water to cool a little, you were quick to submerge yourself in it, only relaxing when you were enveloped and sunk down until the water hit your chin. They eventually sat at your side and scrubbed you clean, mindful of your injuries, and added rose oil to the water and massaged more of it into your damp skin.

And while they seemed to be content to work in silence, you had to ask, the question pressing on your tongue like salt, “what happened?”

“Oh, it is just the most wondrous story,” one of the handmaidens said, punctuated with a dreamy sigh. “The prince himself carried you out of the Pit and flew you across the city on Vhagar to the Red Keep where he demanded the maester see to you immediately.”

“It was fit for song,” another handmaiden said. “I would not be surprised if artisans use the scene of him standing amongst the rubble and blood and fire for their finest paintings for years to come.”

“Prince Daeron has already commissioned a tapestry of it to be made.”

An embarrassed heat started to claw at the back of your throat as they continued to chatter away, only stopping their recounting of the Storming of the Dragonpit (as you learned the attack had been dubbed by the city) to sigh, wistfully. They eventually helped you out of the tub and into a silk robe with a blue, three-headed dragon stitched over the heart, just the same as your Keeper robes. Aemond’s sigil.

“But, what happened?” You asked again, ignoring the strange swooping feeling in your stomach. “Who were they? Why?”

One of the handmaidens gave a tittering laugh. “Oh, Sevens. Please excuse us, my lady. We thought you would want to know who rescued you, but of course you would want to know who nearly killed you! The Shepherd—that rag-covered old man—was a zealot who the Triarchy paid to come to King’s Landing. He believed he was doing the Seven’s work. But they knew he would simply cause a riot—apparently he’d already done so in Lys and they offered him freedom in exchange for listening to how King’s Landing was ‘in desperate need of his teachings.’”

The revelation left something aching behind her ribs. While the Triarchy may have been outmatched before, striking at the heart of the Targaryen dynasty’s power was a well calculated and cruel move. Truthfully, you cared only for the fate of the dragons.

The handmaidens eventually helped you back into bed after the maester deemed the mobility of your injured arm as “suitable.” He also made the passing comment that your “womanly duties” would not be affected by the wound on your side, nor the repeated kicks you had sustained to your stomach. “But you may want to hurry it along. You are far past the age of majority, my lady.”

And with that unhappy reminder, you slept fretfully despite your belly being full of your favorite foods and being surrounded by the finest bedding gold could buy. You woke the next morning before the sun, wounds aching, and let a few drops of Milk of the Poppy pool beneath your tongue. Your head swam unpleasantly almost immediately, like undercooked meat in unsalted broth, but your veins no longer felt serrated after a few moments. And it seemed it was almost fortuitous as you didn’t particularly feel embarrassed when the handmaidens came again and helped you into a gown you passively did not recognize and gave you a cheese filled pastry to eat as they guided you through the winding halls of the Red Keep. It did little to settle your sloshing mind and actually seemed to make you feel nauseous the more you ate.

“Where are we going?” You finally asked, essentially shoving the half-eaten pastry into the hand of the nearest handmaiden as your stomach gave an impressive lurch.

“The Prince has asked for your presence on the steps outside the Keep.”

Well, that didn’t answer anything and your next step had your side lighting up with a sharp pain. You gritted your teeth as they continued to lead you forward and through the winding Keep and its halls and courtyards until you were gently ushered outside. Kingsguard were set out in three lines on either side, flanking the steps, their armor shining in the growing sunlight. At the center stood Aemond, sunlight framing him in a glow so bright you had to shield your eyes for a moment.

“She has arrived, my prince,” one of the knights said, taking a step to the prince’s side.

Instantly, Aemond turned and set his eye on you and moved to grasp at your hands, pulling you forward to stand at the edge of the top step. The sudden movement had your stomach rolling and your eyes shuttered. “It is good to see in the sunlight, my lady.”

“I…” The words you wanted to say were heavy on your tongue, tangling behind your teeth. “My prince, what do you need of me today? Is Vhagar-”

“Vhagar is happily roosting in our valley. She only settled once I learned of your prognosis. I shall have you back at my side shortly, where you belong.”

You heard him step to your back, his scorching heat bleeding through your gown, and nearly jumped as one of his hands settled on your hip and you could feel his next exhale against your ear. Your stomach rolled again and your breath was ragged in your throat. You needed to sit down. Needed more Milk of the Poppy. The stabbing pain in your side started to splinter out toward all of your extremities and the swimming of your mind was growing more pronounced. “My prince…”

“Keep your eyes open, Dandelion,” he prodded. “I’ve kept him alive just long enough for you to see him die. All of them.”

His words had you frowning. Who? You opened your eyes and looked out, nearly retching at the sight of it all. From the steps of the Red Keep and down into the city, all of the Shepherd’s men were tied to posts. They looked haggard and hungry. Bloody and bruised. As you pulled in a breath to try to steady yourself, all you could smell was pitch. There were puddles of it beneath the feet of each man.

“What are you doing?”

Aemond hummed. “Dragon fire would reduce the city to ash. Uncle Daemon suggested a substitute.” He grabbed a torch from one of the knights and held it in front of you as he kept his post at your back. “Light the first.”

“I-I cannot, my prince. It is the King’s justice, not mine.” And could you kill a man? Truly?

“You saved the Targaryen dynasty from ruin and nearly lost your life in the process. The King, the Queen, my sister, they all know you have saved us. Protected our dragons at the cost of your blood.” The hand on your hip skimmed up your side, thankfully light in his touch over your covered sutures, to trail up and over your shoulder blade and to the delicate bit of skin hiding your rapidly beating pulse. “You deserve vengeance, my Dandelion. Let the world burn for the blood you spilt, just as our ancestors demanded in Valyria.” Aemond paused and the roughened pads of his fingers pressed into the base of your skull, an oddly soothing pressure. “Consider it a betrothal gift.” He then reached around you and made sure you curled your hand around the torch. Then, slowly, with deliberate but careful steps, he led you toward the first man on the right as everything faded to a high pitched ringing in your ears.

Betrothal gift.

You chanced a glance at the man tied to the pole and he snarled at you from beneath the gag in his mouth, eyes blazing.

Betrothal gift.

Then, with a gentle, guiding pressure of Aemond’s hand over yours, you dropped the torch into the pitch.

One by one white cloaks and gold cloaks stepped out from their formation to drop their own torches, each man set alight, consumed by licking red flames. Further on through the city, trailing up to the still-smoldering Dragonpit, the Shepherd’s men were strung. At the base of the ruins of the Pit stood the Shepherd himself.

Aemond had carefully set you atop the saddle of his favored steed, a Courser just as silver as Valyrian hair, and led you through the city so you could see all of it.

When the flames came for the Shepherd, he screeched like the hatchlings had in their tiny nests, drooling through the gag. But you couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight and the ringing in your ears had not ceased.

Betrothal gift.

Just as the smoke started to blot out the morning sun, you heard Vhagar’s distinct roar in the distance and your eyes rolled back in your head and you were lost.

**

The war had come again in the night. Boats had come ashore, striking under moonlight. They’d targeted the Isle of Tarth, Driftmark, Duskendale, Maidenpool, and Gulltown. Only Driftmark managed to push back the assault with Princess Rhaenys atop Meleys and Lord Laenor on Seasmoke, aided by Lord Corlys’ Velaryon fleet. The others were left in ruin and the marching bands of mercenaries and Triarchy soldiers pushed further inland, dividing the crown’s armies and raining terror down on low and highborn alike.

And you were shuffled off to Dragonstone with Vhagar and Aemond. From there, the Prince would help command the royal fleet which was now dispersed around the crownlands, to keep any other forces from arriving and to keep any from running back to Essos. Prince Daemon and Caraxes were there, too, and the Bloodwyrm had trilled happily when he’d noticed your presence on the island only to be snuffed at by Vhagar—just once.

And while you were happy to be away from the stench of King’s Landing and to say hello to Vermithor who still roosted in the depths of the volcanic mountain, you found it…boring. You had thought the war would at least be a bit exciting (and you knew you should use a different word but the notion still persisted) but it was strangely boring. There were meetings between commanders and the like with Aemond and Daemon and then more meetings between the Targaryen princes and the castle’s castellan and then the island’s sworn lords.

And you should have been thankful for it. You should’ve been happy that Aemond’s attentions were elsewhere. But it only left you more confused. He had called the pyres of the rioters a betrothal gift and then had said nothing else to give you even the slightest indication that he had meant it or was expecting something in return. And by the end of the first moon since you had relocated to the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, you had deduced that he hadn’t meant it and perhaps you had even imagined it, your mind altered by the Poppy. There was no plausible way a prince would be interested in you. But you were still thankful for the quality care you had been given for your injuries, the scars the only reminder of your brush with death with no other lingering aches. And something almost good came from the storming of the Dragonpit; it had been decided that the Pit would not be rebuilt and the dragons would no longer be confined to the stone roosts when not ridden and could roost anywhere they wanted outside the city. The Keepers would still tend to them and make sure they were well fed so no farmers would lose their livelihoods (and no one would lose their lives) because a dragon was hungry. It was good—dragons were meant to be free.

You also learned that Princess Rhaenyra and her son Prince Viserys had become the official dragon-riding guardians of King’s Landing. Helaena and Dreamfyre had taken to aiding Cregan and his armies in the northern border of the Vale and Riverlands. Aegon, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Daeron had flown out to burn any enemy encampments that had cropped up and had been successful, from what you had learned, while Baela and Rhaena were stationed at Driftmark with their grandmother and uncle, as another line of defense between Westeros and the Triarchy. You wished them well. But still…you were bored. Even news of Daeron’s betrothal to a young lady of House Lannister and Lucerys’ betrothal to the only daughter of Lord Tyrell had you excited for just a moment.

In an effort to have a bit of adventure and escape the gloom of the island, you would swim to one of the small islets that surrounded Dragonstone every morning when you weren’t tending to Vhagar in between her and Aemond patrolling out toward the Stepstones. Your favorite was just a small stretch of land with sweetgrass and wildflowers and a handful of looming trees, barely big enough to withstand the crashing waves of the surrounding ocean. Bodies of Triarchy soldiers would intermittently wash up on the shore and you would drag the corpses further inland in an attempt to help the fisherman nearby—no one wanted a dead man in their nets or on the end of their hook. You took a sharp stick and stabbed at their tattered clothes or armor and pulled them onto the wet sands, one by one, listening as the dragons roared overhead.

In the growing light of dawn, you tugged the last corpse beneath the tree you’d dubbed ‘the grave’ and haphazardly shoved it toward the rest of the mess of rotting skin and sun-bleached bone before turning away, letting the tall grass lick at your legs as it moved with the wind. The rains from last week had dotted the islet with flowers, and you stooped to pluck a dandelion. The stem was almost warm beneath your fingers as you twirled the wildflower in your grip, watching the early morning dew catch the first bit of sunlight and start to sparkle.

What would you wish for now?

You nearly yelped when you felt a sliver from your stick gouge into your thumb. And then a dragon roared overhead. By the sound alone, you knew it was Grey Ghost, one of the wild dragons of the island. He was free.

You switched the stick into your other hand, letting the smallest bit of blood smear against the stalk. You pulled in a deep breath and readied to blow the small seeds away and watch them disappear over the water. But just as you were about to exhale, something prickled at the base of your skull. A sensation you hadn’t felt since you started your Keeper training and it had your breath stalling in your throat.

Slowly, lowering the stick in your hand to a less antagonistic angle, you turned. Every curse you could have muttered dried on your tongue as soon as you locked eyes on the dragon looming at your back. Angry, blazing green eyes were locked on you. The rest of the dragon was as black as pitch with gnarled, grey scars littering his broad neck and chest, leading up to a mess of sharp teeth, left exposed on the left side by a chunk of missing flesh. The dragon rumbled and you could not look away.

This was the wild dragon known as the Cannibal. The fact that he hadn’t devoured you yet was a miracle, truly. The dragon huffed, bathing you in a green-tinged smoke for a moment and blowing away the small flower in your hands. Through watery eyes, you saw the bodies you had pulled from the sea, stacked messily together. Had the dragon done that?

When it didn’t look like he was going to eat you or burn you to ash, you slowly walked backward, keeping your head down. Submissive posture usually did wonders for an unruly dragon—it had saved your skin half a dozen times when Sunfyre had thrown a fit when Aegon was raging about something—and it seemed it worked with the Cannibal, too, because all he did was huff again before turning to feast on the dead.

And then you went back, again and again, pulling more bodies from the sea. But now your intention was less selfless and more selfish. No one had ever been able to get that close to the Cannibal and live to tell about it, their demise only being whispered by unfortunate bystanders or when their burnt husk of a corpse was discovered weeks later. But you survived. You came back to do it again, pulling more and more bodies from the sea and eventually stopped jumping when the large, scarred dragon nudged at your stick, urging you to fetch his meal from the waters. As strange as it was, you considered the large dragon a friend. Mayhaps your only friend on this side of the Narrow Sea. You would speak to him about your duties, point out the other dragons and their riders, telling him anything and everything that came to your mind. And then, when you, as delicately as you could, fed him another arm, you nearly shrieked when his jagged teeth suddenly sunk into your sea-soaked robes and all but threw you onto his back.

The scream that bubbled in your throat was short lived when he swiveled his long neck to look at you, as if making sure you were secure. He was mimicking the other dragons. The thought that this dangerous, old, angry dragon was playing pretend with you almost had you laughing. You adjusted your seat, slotting yourself between the large barbs and ridges down the dragon’s back and then grabbed at two of the curved spikes just at the base of his neck. Then, you spoke the word that changed your life irrevocably.

“Sōvēs!”

Fly.

And then he kept letting you up onto his back, letting you suggest where to go—he mostly listened. But you never truly cared if he wanted to go South when you had hoped to go North that day. He was yours. Truly, strangely, you felt as if his heart had wedged itself beside yours behind your ribs. The bond you had studied and kept sacred was now yours. You were a dragonrider. A dream, a wish you had never voiced. And you knew that if anyone ever knew, it would cost you your life.

But then you had a terrible, bordering on stupid, idea. You could see Vaella again. You could fly your dragon to Volantis and see your sweet sister again in days instead of the months it would take you to sail to her city. You could be free of all this. Of your family’s waiting wrath. Of the boredom. Of Aemond’s confusing actions. You had never been given even the opportunity to think of such things; your life was a series of going and doing what was expected of you. Pondering the possibility of true, if not brief freedom, and the repercussions that would surely follow, you stroked at the Cannibal’s flank as he ate the corpses you had piled for him earlier. The waning sunlight cast him in dark shadows as you both found solace in the seldom used western beach outside the castle’s curtain.

“Would you like to go to Volantis?”

The dragon rumbled between bites.

“Vaella tells me they have elephants there. You’ll have to promise not to eat them.”

He rumbled again and you couldn’t stop the soft laugh from escaping your lips. You could do this. Somehow. You’d offhandedly learned that Aemond and Daemon were considering flying to Braavos to meet envoys from the city to possibly form an alliance. You had heard rumblings about Braavos and Pentos both claiming dominion over the Stepstones and the Targaryen princes had hoped to resolve the issue and strengthen their armies and naval fleets in the process. It could be the perfect distraction.

A large, dark shadow suddenly washed over you in a wave and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. But the angry bellow Vhagar let out had you freezing. You couldn’t fight her, you wouldn’t. Even if the Cannibal rivaled her in size and ferocity, Vhagar was still your charge: you wanted her happy and healthy. Having two dragons fight to the death would destroy you. You needed to leave now.

Vhagar landed, sand spitting into the air under her weight, just as you pushed at your dragon’s side and screamed at him to fly, starting to scramble up to your perch. But before you could even try to move or take to the skies, the great dragon’s maw opened and closed around Cannibal’s neck and bit down.

You screamed alongside him as you were thrown back down onto the sand from the force of the impact, green fire spitting out from between his teeth. It nearly burned you but just as soon as the attack came, it paused. The prince’s dragon held yours down against the charred and crystallized sand. Dark blood slithered down the Cannibal’s neck to pool near your boots as you stood on unsteady legs. In a singular moment, he had been subdued. Just as you had been. Atop Vhagar sat Aemond and even as the sun blotted his features out, you knew he was entirely focused on you.

“Please,” you whimpered. “Please, let him go. He has done nothing against you.”

“On the contrary, my dandelion. He has nearly taken you from me. Did you think I did not see you climbing on his back, day after day?”

Tears gathered at the edges of your vision as you shook your head. “I am not yours, my prince. I am not-”

“Enough.” Aemond’s voice cut over the grumbling of his dragon and the seething of yours. “You have tested my patience. It is time to put this charade behind us. You are mine. You have always been mine. Just as I have been yours.”

“When have I ever been anything more than a keeper to you? I have done nothing to warrant these feelings. You are misguided.” You tried to quell the tears to no avail. Not when you could feel your dragon growing weaker by the moment. “When were you ever mine?”

But the prince was undeterred and swung out of the saddle and down the ladder to step toward you, lilac eye nearly burning. “I have been yours since you placed that dandelion in my hand as a boy that night on Driftmark and swore to me that I would have a dragon.” His hand slid against Vhagar’s neck as he stepped ever closer. His dragon released her bloody hold on Cannibal’s neck but kept her head close to his, effectively keeping him pinned.

More blood pooled in the sand as you shook your head. “You just needed a bit of kindness. That was all it was. Nothing more.”

“But it was more.” His voice was ice. “It was everything.” He moved closer still. “My entire life I have been nothing more than a spare, falling further down the line of succession with each birth. No titles of my own. I have had to fight every day to simply have my father’s attention, to make a name for myself, to be anything more than a footnote in a history book. Tis I who studies histories and battle and who rides the largest dragon in the world and leads the charge against our enemies. I have pushed them back across the Stepstones and into the Disputed Lands to lick their wounds but it matters little. Everything I have ever wanted is beyond my reach or shared with others, divided up before I can claim what is mine.” His eye blazed as moved ever closer. “Why should I not have something that is entirely mine?”

Heat crackled down your spine at his words, at his unblinking gaze anchored on you. “My Prince…”

“Mine to have. Mine to keep. Mine. You always have been and you always will be.”

“Y-you don’t mean that. I am nearly a decade your elder! I am not… My family serves yours and your dragons. We do not marry,” you tried to argue, thinking of every reason why it should not and could not come to pass. “I have no court refinement. My family reviles me. You ar-are a prince! You are the one who rides the largest dragon in the world, and you are a learned warrior worthy of song. And I cannot be the one-”

Aemond was in front of you in a flash, long fingers curling around your wrist. “You are. No matter what you think of yourself, I have seen you. I have known you. You are my only equal. Your family will be dealt with and I will give you the option as to how for their mistreatment of you.”

Still, you shook your head. “Your family will never-”

“My family has known I would wed you since I was a boy. They knew you simply needed time to see it. While my mother and sister tie the Seven Kingdoms together, you and I will maintain the old ways. Valyrian. Fire and Blood. Do not try to hide yourself from me. I knew what you were since my time in Qohor and I remembered how your blood shone on that little dandelion in the dark. You said it that night: there is magic in our blood. You would not be able to tame this beast without it,” he said, inclining his head to your dragon. “And so easily. Just as easily as you calmed all the others. They sense it in you, as I did. As I do now.”

And what could you possibly say to that?

But Aemond did not care to give you time to formulate a response and tugged you away from your coiled dragons and toward the castle. And, just as soon as the heavy door closed behind you, your back hit the cold, stone wall of the corridor and Aemond’s mouth was on yours. The kiss was not kind. Not the stuff of songs and girls’ whispered dreams. It was all hard edged lips and searching tongues after his hand fell to your jaw, pressing until your mouth opened with a whine. He stole your breath in an instant, seeming content to have you gasp against his tongue as he plundered. And then he was tugging at the laces of your trousers until they fell loose at your waist before falling with a single twist of his wrist.

You turned your head as you felt it, letting his next echo of a kiss smear against your heated cheek. Fear and something else crawled up your spine like a slow-moving spider.

He rucked up the edges of your tunic to curl his long fingers over your smallclothes and pushed them down to hang uselessly around your ankles and join your trousers. The moment he touched your clit had you keening, your own hands fisting at the leather stretched across his shoulders. To push him away, to pull him closer, you could not know. “My prince, please, you will ruin me. I am not what you want.”

“But you are,” he said. “You are all I want.” His fingers trailed lower, gathering slick as he pressed into your folds and then curled them into you without preamble. Your body shook with the intrusion, a strange burning sensation bleeding out into a pleasurable pressure as he continued to push push push in and curl his fingers, then he retreated just enough to have you gasping before he pushed back in. Again and again he pressed in, dragging the flat of his hand against your clit with each pass until you were whining against his mouth. An embarrassed heat licked up your chest when you realized what you had done. How could you like this?

“There we go, my dandelion. You sing so sweet for me.” Aemond bent his head just enough to drag his lips across the hollow of your throat, the wet, sucking sounds of your cunt nearly drowned it out. A heat was coiling in your belly, winding tighter and tighter with each flick of his wrist but you felt him shift, just slightly, and his next press had your knees buckling, sparks rippling up your spine.

“My…” Your tongue couldn’t form the words. Every inch of you was buzzing, pulling tighter, inching towards something that-

You came with a cry and Aemond kept you upright by shoving his knee between your legs, his other hand coming up to press at the base of your throat. As he slowly, carefully pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, you couldn’t look away as he pressed his fingers into his mouth. He let out a soft noise, eye closing as his tongue wrapped around the digits to get them clean.

“You are sweet everywhere,” he said before slamming his mouth against yours in a harsh kiss that tasted of you as he pried your lips open to lick inside.

Your tenuous grip on his shoulders tightened as your blood sang through your ears. A sudden, warm pressure against your thigh almost had you retreating but the wall and his grip falling to ensnare your waist halted any movement.

“I want it all,” Aemond murmured against your mouth. “And you will give it to me.”

“Aemond-” The rest of your rebuttal choked you, stalling like a rock in your throat, as you felt like you were being split in two as he sank into you. He pushed and pushed and pushed, seeming to go on forever, and punched the air from your lungs when his hips were finally flush with yours. The prince stilled for a moment as your body throbbed with an almost uncomfortable heat and his lips dragged against your pulse, humid breath wetting your skin.

“My perfect little dragon.” And then he moved. Sliding out just enough to punch back in, dragging a yelp from your throat, and then doing it again and again and again until your yelps turned into wet, pathetic keens as the coil returned. It looped around your stomach and pulled as Aemond’s thrusts had you shoving up onto the tips of your toes, completely at his mercy. Each drag and push of him was hitting that spot inside of you that you didn’t know could possibly exist, and brushed against your swollen bundle of nerves and sent more sparks up your spine. All you could do was hold on and sob as he took what he wanted and drove you closer to another terrifying euphoria.

And then it was crashing over you, seizing your body and making you shake in his grasp, but he was not done, continuing to thrust until he suddenly stilled and a scalding heat pooled inside you before you felt it start to slip down into the crux of your thighs.

Aemond did not pull out as you thought he would, but instead stood straight and smoothed a hand across the side of your face before pressing an almost gentle kiss to your quivering mouth, just a touch too firm to be truly careful. “Let us retire. I fear we have tempted fate too much by cavorting in such a place.” Only then did he pull out, hands squeezing at your hips as his release started to slide further down your legs. You burned with something almost like shame, but the residual tingling from your own kept it from truly consuming you. “Your body is for my eyes only, those little sounds you make are for my ears only. You are mine. And I plan to have you again before I call you my wife in front of the gods of our ancestors.”

And Aemond did. He took you apart on his featherbed and he had you screaming into the hand he cupped over your mouth as he drove into you until your legs were too weak to sustain your weight when you tried to stand afterward. But it mattered little because he still had you bathed and dressed in the traditional robe of a Valyrian wedding and he’d led you out to the beach like a lamb to slaughter where the priest wed you to Aemond in the Old Ways. He cut your lip and you cut his with unsteady fingers, knowing you could not run now.

**

Much had changed.

With the tenuous allegiance of Braavos and Pentos gained with careful political maneuvering by Daemon and Aemond, the war with the Triarchy was over in three moon’s time. King Viserys lived long enough to see it and welcome the entirety of his family back to the Red Keep again in victory before succumbing to his age.

Queen Alicent was the one to place the crown on Rhaenyra’s head and proclaim her Queen of the Seven Kingdoms in front of the crowds assembled.

Your lip scarred and your husband liked to press his mouth to it whenever you were alone and you could feel his smile against your skin. And, just as he had said he would before your wedding, he had his first heir growing within you. His warm hand would curl around your ever-growing bump at every opportunity, no matter the company present. Advisors, siblings, knights, low and highborn alike. All of them saw the possessive curl of his fingers over you. You had come to expect it, almost welcome it.

It was strange…to be wanted. And to be wanted to completely. It was stifling and terrifying and all consuming. When you had come into your shared chambers and murmured the news that you were with child, Aemond had taken you again but slower than he had ever before. It was almost as if he were nervous to move too quickly, despite the power behind his thrusts, and hurt you or your babe.

The next day, he had the tongues of your mother, father, and brother delivered to you, wrapped in the dress Aemond had gifted to you and your mother had stolen. Aemond had given you a choice as to how to deal with them. You had asked for them to never speak ill of you again but for their lives to be unaltered. Horrified, you realized he had done as you had bid. They would never utter a word against you. They would never try to use you as leverage in a scheme. Aemond had taken it a step further to have you known as a Targaryen Princess rather than your House’s name.

“You make him so happy,” Alicent said as she cupped your cheeks in her soft hands, a matching smile on her face. “I cannot thank you enough.” The Dowager Queen had been endlessly kind to you and the rest of the family had welcomed you with open arms.

As if they had always expected you to be one of them.

Your dragon healed, new scars to add to his collection. He still allowed you onto his back but only when Vhagar was near. Your freedom still had caveats. But you still felt the wind beneath you as you soared through the air with your husband at your side. You still knew what it felt like to fly. You still knew the taste of clouds after a storm. You still knew what the city looked like from miles in the sky. And Aemond had sworn that he would fly with you to Volantis to visit Vaella after your babe was born.

“I love you,” Aemond spoke the words first, just after your bump started to show, only a week before you were set to fly North to see Helaena marry Cregan under the heart tree in Winterfell’s godswood. “I love you,” he said again after watching Aegon happily kiss his wife in Sunspear under the blazing Dornish sun. “I love you.” And you wanted to believe him. One day you would. And, perhaps one day you would say it, too.

A few months shy of your suspected due date, Queen Rhaenyra summoned you both to the throne room from the chambers you shared. “You may have any land you wish, brother,” Rhaenyra said with a small smile. “You have fought valiantly for this kingdom, often without reward or gratitude. It is a paltry sum for what we and the crown owes you, but I hope this is a start.” She waved a hand and a serving man handed Aemond a small scroll. “If you wish to rebuild any castle or keep on that list, you will have any materials and skilled workers you may need. If you would prefer something built new, you shall have the same. You need only ask.”

Aemond unfurled it to reveal a list of islands, vacant lands, and ruined castles. You recognized a few; Red Deer Island in the Riverlands, Bloody Isle near Oldtown, and Whispers which was the ruined castle near the tip of Crackclaw Point. But the list was extensive. Aemond had his pick of lands. He could take you anywhere he selected. How far would he take you? And why did you hate that you didn’t care? As long as it was him? It would be just you and him—forever

A/N: thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

#Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x oc #Aemond Targaryen #aemond Targaryen x ofc #House of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #hotd #female reader

[vase-of-lilies]

It's Been a Long Time

❀ WandaNat x Reader (f)

❀ Warnings: SMUT, desperate sex, separation, cannon typical violence, oral (r receiving and w receiving), shmexy toys, use of a strap-on, poly!relationship, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart), tattooed reader (just a small one on her chest), nats and Wanda's mommy milkers, overstimulation, body worship, lots of orgasms, this is just super smutty and I hope you like it lol, sadness, tears, angst, captivity (not of reader), mommy kink (not MDLG), use of a butt plug and lube, female masturbation, voyeurism(?), threesome, lots of aftercare, kisses, fluff, and goodness!

❀ Request: SMUT! smexy, depraved smut with lots of overstimulation, body worship, oral, orgasms, and toys, just allll the slutty and smutty goodness 🤤 

❀ A/N: I really hope you like this one! I set it after Captain America: Civil War when Nat exposes everything about the accords and herself, and Wanda goes to the prison on the ocean thingy. So they both go home to their girlfriend who just misses them like crazy:( 

When you heard the news of the Avengers getting caught, your heart broke. The two women you loved were a part of the team, and their getting caught was the first thing on your list you were worried about, besides them getting killed, of course. Natasha and Wanda had fallen for you when you approached them while they were having coffee one morning. You had noticed that Wanda had dropped her wallet, so you quickly went to return it to her. 

Unbeknownst to you, that day would change the trajectory of your entire life. The two women would smother you with their eternal love for you, take care of you when you were sad, love you when you had a hard time loving yourself, and leave you alone when you wished. They understood you, knew you, and just loved you. They showed their love in different ways;

Wanda showed it through words. Telling you how beautiful you are, saying she loves you, holding your hand in public, kissing your head when you woke up every morning. Natasha, she was a little different. Being more conservative and hidden, she showed her love in smaller ways. Protective looks at someone who is looking at you, gifting you flowers she picks from the compound garden, and tickling your back during movie nights. 

Unfortunately, both women knew what they signed up for when they decided to join the Avengers. They put the people of their city before themselves. It was heroic, and you loved that about them. They were admirable and inspiring. Even when Wanda made a mistake with her powers, you still loved her. Even when Natasha turned her back on you and Wanda, you still loved her the same as well. 

As you were watching TV, an emergency broadcast sounded, and you watched in horror as the Avengers were seen being escorted onto a large plane, going only god knows where. Clutching the shirt-sewn pillow, you hold it close to your heart, silent tears falling down your cheeks. Wanda looked heartbroken at what was unraveling, and Natasha looked defeated as she was escorted into a police car. 

You glared red-fiery bullets at Tony Stark, who stands with Vision, Spider-Man, and other people you thought were your friends. They were watching their team get captured, rendering the city in danger as the most powerful of people were locked away. Reaching for your phone, the first person you call is Wanda. No answer. Next, you call Natasha. No answer. In a fit of desperation, you call Tony. 

"What the fuck did you do?? Why are you doing this??" You scream into the phone as you hear Tony's smug voice on the other side. He sighs and lets you scream at him. 

"Y/n, listen to me. They are a danger to-" You didn't let him finish.

"They are your fucking team, Stark. You are more dangerous than all of them combined! They have friendships that can never be undone, promises that can't be broken, lovers-" your voice cracks and you whimper. "Fuck you, Stark. Fuck you, and fuck your so-called morals." Before he got a chance to respond, you hung up the phone. 

The channel changes on its own, and you see Natasha's picture on the screen. A headline below her says, "Natalia Alianovna Romanova, the assailant behind the escape of Captain America." You shook your head, knowing they wouldn't arrest her if it was on her watch. She would be on the run, and with everyone knowing who she is, she won't be coming home to you. 

Wanda, you didn't know where she went or what happened to her. You prayed and begged someone, anyone, to bring them back to you. But nothing, no matter how hard you tried, they were nowhere to be found. 

It would be weeks before you showered again. You were staying up late every single night worrying, researching, and calling people, trying to find where your lovers were. You tried looking for the sightings of Natasha, but no luck. You tried finding out where Wanda was by tracking the plane number you saw on the TV. But no luck either; it was military-protected. But one day, an unknown number called you. Immediately you picked up, not caring who it was. 

"Y/n? This is Rogers. I can't talk long, but Wanda and Natasha are coming home. I have them located, and they are both safe. Give them time, but soon." 

You sighed in relief and responded, "Where are they? Please, I need to know; I need to know where they are!" 

Steve was quiet for a second, "I'm sorry, I can't disclose that information right now. Give them a week, and they'll be home, ok?" He waited for a response, but you hung up and threw your phone to the other side of the room. 

You were angry and worried about your girlfriends. Steve was a little help with the burner phone call, but it still made you infuriated that he didn't tell you where they were. You knew that he couldn't be tracked fully with a burner phone, but you didn't know what technology Stark would use to capture him again. 

Just like Steve said, it would be another week before you would see them. So you cleaned yourself up a little bit. You showered, tidied your room and the rest of the apartment, and decided to cook an actual meal—a simple [enter your favorite easy meal here] dinner for you and your lovers. 

That is, whenever they came back to you. 

~~~~~~~

You had got through the week Steve said they would be here, but they still did not show. Maybe they forgot about you? Maybe they didn't love you anymore. Those were the thoughts coming through your head 24/7. After the phone call with Steve, you felt something. You felt a spark of hope and were confident they were going to come home, yet they didn't.

But the day came when they finally did—the day started as every other one, in bed, unmotivated to do anything. You had gotten in the habit of staring at the picture of you, Natasha, and Wanda in central park. You were squished in between the two of them, their lips connecting to both of your cheeks as you smiled in the middle of them. It was your favorite picture of you three, as it brought back memories from the "good ole' days."

You had found that showering washed the pain away for a temporary time. The water flowed down your skin with ease and, in turn, felt like you were a new woman. Today was no different. You got in the shower, and like every other day, you continued to pray and beg anything for your lovers to come home. With every bubble that fell through the drain, you counted your wishes. It felt useless trying to hope for them to come home anymore. But you knew you had to keep trying. 

After you got dressed, you went to the kitchen for some breakfast. [Enter your favorite breakfast food here] sounded amazing, and once you made it, it hit the spot. You were in your thoughts for a long time before you noticed a small knock at the door. You figured it was a package you ordered, so you answered it. 

To your utter surprise, Wanda and Natasha stood right in front of you. In the flesh, alive and breathing. Wanda was in a musty blue jumpsuit, and Natasha looked like she was in hiding, her red hair growing long over her shoulders. You stared in disbelief at the two women in front of you. Not sure if they were real or not. 

"I-is it you?" You whisper, tears prickling in your eyes. Wanda smiled, lifting her hand to cradle your cheek. 

"It is, sweetheart. We're home." Wanda responded, a sad smile painted on her lips. 

You let out a sob and wrapped your arms around the two of them. You hid your face in Natashas' chest as you pulled Wanda closer to you. "Wh-why did you leave? Why didn't y-you come home?" You whimpered, your voice muffled by the soft material of Nats' maroon shirt. 

The two women looked at each other, and Natasha took the lead. 

"We were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time милая (honey), and we had to go away for a little bit." She said, giving your head a soft kiss as she ran her fingers through your wet hair. You sigh in relief as you feel Wanda give you a reassuring squeeze, and you look up at her as well. 

"Are you both ok? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" You ask quickly, pulling away and scanning the two of them, running your eyes over their body and looking at their faces to see if they wince in pain anywhere. You feel lighter as you see them shake their heads, and you grab their hands and pull them inside. Inside their home, where they belong with you. 

"I saw it all happen, o-on the news… I wish I could have been there t-to help you somehow. I just f-feel like I sh-should hav-have done something." You cry, sitting down on the kitchen chair you pull from the table. 

"Baby, please don't feel that way. You didn't have to do a thing. We made a sacrifice so that you would be safe. So don't you dare take the blame for any of this, do you understand?" Wanda says, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands. Her thumb rubs tender circles on the backs of your hands. 

You nod in understanding and look down at your hands in sadness. "I just missed you both so much. I thought you were never coming home." 

Your small voice breaks their hearts, and Wanda cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Gratefully and happily, you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck to bring her closer to you. Natasha kneels next to Wanda, and after pulling away from Wanda, you lean over to the redhead, kissing her lips with just as much passion. "My god, I missed you both so much. I was going insane without you two here."

They both smile from below you, and each takes your hand in theirs. "We've missed our baby, and I think we all need a bit of relief from our time away…." Natasha smirks at you and Wanda, and in sync, you both nod. Understanding what she is saying in an instant. 

They pulled you to the bedroom, their eyes never leaving yours. They tenderly laid you down on the bed, placing your head gently on a pillow. Both pairs of hands explore your body as if it is a newfound land that no one has laid eyes on before. Your shirt comes off, and you are left bare for them. They both pause as they look at you from above. 

Wanda speaks first, "Did you get this while we were gone, baby?" Her soft fingers trace the fine line of a tattoo in the valley of your breasts. The lines connect to make three naked women intertwined together, all holding each other tightly. A heart at the crown of each woman's head and you right in the middle. 

"It's beautiful, honey. Gorgeous." Natasha says, leaning down to kiss along the ink lining your skin. "I've missed this body, your scent, just everything about you милая (honey)." She talks, her lips kissing down your belly to the waistband of your silk shorts. 

Wanda sits at your side, smiling as she kisses your lips, holding onto your hand as she moves down your neck to your chest as well. She takes one of your perked nipples into her mouth, smiling as a moan escapes your throat. You haven't been intimate in so long, and it felt so good to feel this close to your lover again. "O-oh.." You let out a small gasp as Natasha gently pull your shorts down your legs, a hum coming from above you as Nat looks hungrily at your soaking wet pussy. 

"So wet, baby. Is this all for us?" Nat asks, softly raking her fingers over your inner thighs, coaxing your legs open even more. You nod in response, your cheeks heating up at how exposed you are. "I need a taste…." She whispers, and Wanda nods at her. 

Natasha lays on her belly, spreading your petals wide open. Slick strings from her fingers as she prods at your hole, and you moan softly. She licks a long stripe from the bottom of your cunt and circles around your clit, making you squeeze Wanda's hand tighter. 

Her mouth feels so fucking good on your pussy, and you arch your back, pushing your breast further into Wandas' mouth. She rubs your other hardened nipple in her fingers; like a bud of clay, she's rolling into a perfect ball, and pleasure courses through your body. Your wiggling body makes it hard for Natasha to focus, and Wanda takes note of this, so she moves to straddle your lap, keeping your lower body still. 

Your eyes close as both women dominate you, Wanda pleasuring your breasts as Natasha eats you out like she's never before. You grasp the sheets in your hands, your orgasm coming closer and closer until it hits you. As you cum with a shout, Natasha enters two fingers inside of your clenching cunt, smirking as you squeeze her fingers extra tight from not cumming in so long. "So delicious, милая (honey), so fucking good." She whispers from in between your legs, your juices covering her lips. 

"Have a taste, my love," Nat says, sitting up and removing her fingers from your pussy, moving them up to Wandas' lips. She closes her mouth around Nats' fingers and moans softly. 

"Mmmm, baby, you taste like strawberries and cream…" Wanda says, smiling down at your fucked out face. A thin sheet of sweat covers your forehead, and you return a smile. 

"J-just for you, Mommy…" you whisper, your breath coming in small pants. Nat chuckles lightly and crawls to your side. "And you too, m-mommy…." you add, making sure Nat feels just as much love. 

"Oh, baby, did you think we were done? No, no, no, we have so much to catch up on." Wanda smiles and kisses your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. While she is devouring your lips, Natasha makes her way to the closet. She reaches for the box marked "toys" and smiles at your messy handwriting. As she opens the box, she takes out your favorite [enter favorite color and desired size] strap, a powerful vibrating wand, and her favorite toy to torture you with; the ruby-like jeweled butt plug that fits your ass like a glove. 

She turns around with the supplies in her hands, and to no one's surprise, you had managed to get Wanda down to her bra and panties. Her jumpsuit was discarded on the floor by the bed. With her lips glued to yours, Wanda takes your hands and pins them above your head, wanting all of you under her control. You smile as your noses nudge against each other as she pulls away for a second. You look up at her, and your eyes flick from hers to her lips. "You always take my breath away." Nat smiles at your moment with her and sets the supplies at the end of the bed. 

"Alright, it's time for the real fun," Nat says, smiling as she removes her shirt and jeans. You sit up with Wanda sitting next to you, but you are quickly stopped in your tracks as Nat gives you a look that immediately pushes you into submission. As you lay back down, Wanda runs her fingers through your hair, and Nat climbs between your legs once again. 

You watch in anticipation as Nat buckles the harness to her hips, the false cock bobbing in front of her. She rubs her hand over your pussy lips again and gently enters your hole with her finger. Stretching you out to make sure that her cock fits perfectly inside of you. As Wanda sits above you, she continues to brush through your hair with her fingers, something she does as a gesture of love while Natasha takes charge of both of you. 

Nat smiles and seductively holds up the bejeweled butt plug, and you whimper softly, knowing how much you love it yet loathes it at the same time. Natasha would completely understand if you said no to something and would respect it. But this time, you would allow her to do anything to you. 

She gently holds your legs open and puts your ass on her lap, your legs up by her shoulders. She opens the small bottle of lube and puts a small amount on the metal plug as well as your puckering hole. You jump at the slight coolness of the liquid but relax as her warm fingers rub it in, pushing her finger into your ass with ease. You groan softly, turning your head and hiding your face in Wandas' leg. 

She smiles at your shyness and tickles your arm to soothe you as Nat works your ass open for her.  

"Come on, baby, loosen up for me; you used to take me like a champ," Nat says, pushing her fingers in a little deeper. You moan in response, feeling like you haven't been stretched out like this in ages. Well, you haven't, but it still felt like the first time all over again. "I know you can do it, honey, come on, let me in…" she whispers, gently moving her other hand to the top of your cunt, rubbing small circles on your sensitive button to help you relax. 

With a whimper coming from your lips, you relax your lower body in hopes of assisting Nat. With luck, she pushes her fingers to her knuckles and smirks. "Good girl, that's our good girl," She coos and smiles as she pushes her fingers in and out of your tight back hole. "She's so good, isn't she, Wands?"

Wanda hums in agreement, her fingers teasing your nipples once again. "So so good, the best girl." She smiles down at you, chuckling softly as your face contorts into a face of pleasure. You bite your lip and whine at the sudden empty feeling of Nats' fingers leaving you. But you are quickly full again when Nat pushes the plug into your ass, the jewel nestling right between your ass cheeks. 

Nat smiles at her work and rubs your skin softly. "It fits perfectly… red suits you милая (honey). My god, you are so beautiful." She looks over you adoringly and leans down to press a kiss to your bent knee. As she kisses closer to your cunt, Wanda slowly straddles your chest and looks down at you with a smirk. "Do you wanna taste baby?" You nod eagerly, and you link your arms around her legs to pull her closer to your mouth. 

Her pussy drips right over your mouth, and you can hardly contain your excitement. You pull her down to your and suck hard on her clit, making her moan and grip the bed frame in front of her. She arches her back, grinding down on your mouth with pleasure filling her veins. Lust fills her system, and she reaches back to pull on your nipples again, smiling at the vibration of your moans against her clit. 

Natasha leans back as she watches you devour Wanda and smiles as she plays with herself in return. She rubs her clit with her fingers, but it just isn't enough, so she reaches for the vibrator that sits next to her. She turns it on and sighs in relief as she presses the bulb to her aching clit. Throwing her head back in pleasure, she watches the two of you through hooded eyelids, smirking as she matches the movements of Wandas' hips, circling the vibrator one way and then the other. 

Once you sense Wandas' orgasm starts to form, you smile as her moans fill your ears like music, and you gently push your fingers in to help her with that final push of pleasure. She gasps, as does Natasha at the end of the bed, both women coming to their high at the same time. The two of them moan loudly as they both cum, and Wandas' hips come to a stop as she takes in a deep breath. "Oh, baby, you were hungry, weren't ya?" She chuckles and scoots down, leaning over your chest to kiss your lips, tasting herself on her tongue at the same time. 

"Mmm, you taste so good, Wands." You whisper against her lips, and you smile as you take in her soft kisses in return. As Natasha finishes, she hands the vibe to Wanda, who turns around on your belly, so now she is facing Natasha, who has spread your legs wide so they both have unlimited access to your most intimate parts.

Wanda spreads your pussy lips apart and licks small circles on your clit while Natasha pushes the tip of her cock into your hole. Already being stretched out, Nat knows you can take all of her. She places her hands on your thighs and pushes further inside your wet hole, slowly filling you up to the brim. You moan loudly, and you squeeze Wandas' hips as she straddles you. 

You hear the click of the vibrator switch, and you jump as you feel the vibrating against your puffy clit. A loud moan escapes your lips, your legs shaking in response as Wanda circles the vibe in all the right ways. Natasha moves her hips in a smooth rhythm, pulling endless pleasure from your cunt with each thrust. With Wandas' skilled hands with the vibrator and Natashas' cock stretching you out perfectly, you are in a state of euphoria for the first time in a long, long time. 

Your first orgasm hits you like a semi-truck, and you see white. Your pussy walls clench around Natasha's cock like a vice, and your clit pulses against the vibrating head held in Wandas' soft hands. And they are far from done, you know that; Wanda knows that, as does Natasha. They continue to push you to your limits, torturing your cunt in the most loving way possible. 

Your second orgasm hits just minutes later, and your juices squirt from your pussy and onto the sheets just under you. You let out a loud moan and squirm underneath Wanda. "One more, baby, one more just for us." She encourages and turns the vibrator up to its highest setting. You whimper in response, your red puffy cunt getting its last bit of pleasure. Natasha thrusts in and out of your pussy faster, and you are pushed to your third and final orgasm. 

As you are cumming beneath your two lovers, they share their love with a long and loving kiss. Their tongues fight for dominance in the other's mouth. Finally, with gentle care, they move their focus to you. Wanda removes the vibe from your quivering clit, and Natasha slowly removes her cock from your soaking wet hole and gently pulls the plug from your ass. She teases you by pulling it out just a little bit, then pushing it back into its spot again. But finally, she pulls it out and leaves your ass a gaping hole. 

Once Wanda moves from your belly, she begins cleaning everything up, the toys, the pillows, blankets, and other things while Nat helps you. 

Nat smiles and sighs as she massages the skin of your ass and guides you to calm down. She puts her hand gently on your heaving chest, and you follow her breaths as she silently tells you to copy her. You breathe with her, your senses calming down at the moment until you are fully at peace. 

As you lay fucked out, Wanda lifts you into her strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. While Wanda sits you on a towel on the counter, you lay on her chest as Nat fills the tub up with warm, soapy water. Wanda chuckles at your tired look, your slouching body, and your droopy eyes. "We missed you so much, baby. I couldn't stand another day in that stupid prison without you." She says in a soft voice as she wipes your face with a warm washcloth.

You lean into her gentle touches and hum lightly in response, too tired to form complete sentences. Nat chuckles and lifts you into the tub with her, Wanda getting in on the other end and the two women caging you between their entangled legs. "It is so good to be home… to be home with our girl," She says as she holds out her hand for Wanda. 

Wanda solemnly agrees and squeezes Nats' hand, and as your head rests against her breasts, she kisses your forehead. "We won't ever leave you again, honey. Never, ever again. We promise." Wanda nods and softly rubs her hand over your leg, soothing you as you hide your face in Nats' chest. 

You knew that was a promise your two lovers would keep. It was a promise that would never be broken, despite the challenges that were faced in their everyday lives. They loved you far too much to see you heartbroken, and they swore never to leave you broken again.

Ever. 

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #WandaNat x reader #wandanat x female reader #Wanda and Natasha #natasha x reader #Wanda x reader #black widow x reader #Scarlet witch x reader #Natasha Romanoff #Wanda Maximoff #wanda x female reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #request #WandaNatasha x reader #nats mommy milkers #wandas mommy milkers #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (3)

III. The Tower

MASTERLIST

Summary: People are coming and going

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, talks about bedding and non concensual sexual relationships, threats of mutilation, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon 

Wordcount: 4.6 k 

Notes: Sorry for the delay my loves! I’m travelling! and I’m so marveled by the things I see in real life that I’m having trouble entering into my magical world jeje

I must say… and warnings for spoilers for the chapter, but Maester Gerardys was brutally unalived by Aegon in Fire and Blood, yet I’m bringing him back to life because we need known faces in the keep! jeje I don’t want to made up so many characters! 

I did not double check this for mistakes

So this is what she meant with “that could be easily arranged”, Cregan thought, as he saw his Queen petting the snout of her huge fearsome dragon

Vhaelar? She called it?

It was big, very big, not that he had many dragons to compare it to besides Jacaerys’ dragon, this one was much bigger

White, it was unusual, his scales lit up under the sun, giving him an unrealistic look, like the huge beast didn’t belong in this plain

He had just seen it burn eighteen men to dust and yet, the creature didn’t even spare him a look, he didn’t felt threatened by the dragon, like she wouldn’t hurt him, like she knew him

You were speaking to her, in a language he couldn’t understand, perhaps it was High Valyrian, only he heard you speak his name to the dragon

And then the beast directed her golden eyes directly at him. it was barely a second before she turned her whole attention back to you

You were speaking to her, and she understood you perfectly 

The last child of Rhaenyra, the young Queen, the last dragon

An impulsive, broken young girl, young QUEEN, had the last dragon, the only one left

He smiled widely

You had the anger, and the power to back it up, you were going to be loved by your allies and feared by those who weren’t, and that was the perfect combinations, loved by millions, feared by them too

The huge beast raised her head, growling, you took some steps back and she took flight, her huge wingspan making his clothes flutter like it was the wind. You walked towards him with a soft smile on your face.

But the smile didn’t reach your eyes, it never did 

“I thought the dragons in your family…”

“She didn’t rest on the pit, that is why she was spared from the traitor’s rage”, you referred to the common folk as traitors… 

“The trials have come to an end, your grace”, he said surely

“Indeed”, you muttered

“Yet, I have send ravens to all corners of the realm, people from all over will come to swear their allegiance to you, so… busy weeks are coming”, he warned, you barely nodded

“I’m glad”, you said softly

“But not only that… they will not only bring their oaths, they will bring their problems, I fear I must warn you, they will make demands of you, the entire continent was devastated by a civil war, every town, city and holdfast”. You heard him intently and nodded

“Yes, thank you, my lord Stark”, you offered a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and he sighed barely loudly

Should he be scared of you?

He felt like he was very close to a wild animal, he would never know how or when you were going to react. He was waiting for the perfect moment for you to snap and turn on someone or something

He really hoped you wouldn't

But somehow… he hoped you would

He wanted to see the fire in you, he had to stoke it, because fire was better than nothing, fire was better than the remains…

You were sitting the most dangerous seat on the realm, he needed you to be dangerous, if only a little bit, he needed to see the fight in you, a passion of some sorts 

That night he found you in the library, to his great surprise, you were reading tomes about Jaehaerys and Aegon the Conqueror’s rule 

You were tired, but didn’t want to relent the story about how The Good Queen Alyssane prohibited the Prima Nocta and with which laws

The Lord Hand my Queen, introduced your Queen’s Guard, you smiled at the man as you closed the huge and dusty book

“My Lord Hand”, you greeted

“My Queen”, he said, “may I”, he said painting to the chair, you nodded

He sat slowly in front of you, he got rid of his cape, instead wearing a leather best instead

“What are you reading? if I may ask?”, he said softly

“Just somethings about the laws that were created by the Good Queen Alysanne”, you said dismissively, “you needed to speak to me, my lord”

“It’s time, imperative and time sensitive that we name the new small council, we cannot rule without one”, he said, you barely nodded, “we will need, A master of coins, a master of laws, a master of ships, a Grand Maester, and… a Master of whispers if you choose to have one, and of course, a Hand and the Lord commander of your Queensguard”, he listed

“We have you”, you said with a smile, and Cregan barely nodded, this was not the time to inform you he wanted to return to the North… he will give you more time, “And Lord Arryk”, you muttered, “we have mAESTER gERARDYS”

“You wish to name him Great maester?”, he asked, you nodded, “very well”

“I don't trust anyone else”, you whispered

“What do you mean?”, he asked, concerned

“Maesters come from the Citadel… of Oldtown… of the Hightowers”, you whispered, Cregan nodded

“Yes, I understand your concerns”, he said softly, “how about Lord Corlys?”, he said then

“He is old, and betrayed my mother”, you said quickly, “his time has passed”, Cregan nodded

“I’m not sure if antagonizing House Velaryon is a good idea”, he said gently

“We pardoned him, and let him keep his properties”, you muttered, “he will have to be contented with that and his granddaughters”, you muttered

“Very well”, he said

“No Velaryons, no Hightowers”, you said firmly

“Tyland Lannister”, he said

“Master of Coin”, you said with a nod, “he might be a Lannister but he served King Viserys and…. Aegon… loyaly, we need the Lannisters”, you admitted, he nodded

“Great”

“After the war, who do you think has the greatest armada of the Seven Kingdoms?”, you asked 

“It has to be the Redwyne’s”, he said firmly

“Are they summoned to court?”

“Yes my Queen”

“Good”, Cregan smiled as you never stopped to surprise him

“They pledge for Aegon, but I’m sure under the right circumstances, they will bend the knee to you”

“Then we will make sure, that the Tarlys present themselves first”, you said, “the Lords of the Reach, and make sure we serve their wine at the festivities”, Cregan nodded 

“So, we have a grand maester, a Lord Commander, a Master of coins and luckily a master of ships…”, he listed

“We need a maester of Laws”, you said softly, “a strong, joust man…or woman”, you corrected, “someone who draws respect…someone who knows the real world, who has traveled and seen to the furthest corners of the Realm”

“You are describing Lord Corlys”, he said, concerned

“There has to be someone else”, you whined

“I might know someone”, muttered Cregan, “He served the blacks”

“Good”, you muttered with shy smile

“He is at court, he was summoned when I called for the remainder of your mother’s small council”. Yes, introducing you to important Lords and Ladies of the realm, he needed to ease you into politics, who to trust and who don’t

Making you Queen was not only for revenge, not because it was the right thing to do…

Were you actually good for this? where you meant for the throne?

“Even if we don’t need a master of whispers, I think we should have one”, he said softly

“Who that might be?”, you asked back

“I will look into it”, he was also going to look into who was going to replace him as hand when his inevitable return to the North comes to be, but he didn’t want to say that yet…

He needed you stable, and surrounded by people you trust first

“You should have some sleep my Queen we all need it”, he said gently, you nodded, and raised from your sit, “I’ll walk you to your rooms”

He had the rooms of the king ready for you, and it was a curious thing to sleep there, but you did, it had been two years since your grandfather, and your mother didn’t use the rooms, so… it wasn’t that odd.

They replaced the upholsterers, tapestries and paint, and it looked beautiful, filled with flowers and soft colors, you liked it, it was spacious

Cregan stopped at the doors

“Thank you, my lord Stark”, you didn’t know why, but you always felt relaxed and safe next to him, but now, you felt nervous

“You are most welcome my Queen”, he said softly, “tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to your prospect of Master of Laws”, he said softly, “we were made brothers at arms at a time in White Harbor when I was very young”, he said softly

“Good”, you said said with a soft smile, “If he is a friend of you, he is a friend of the crown”

“you are speaking like a true Queen”, he said with a relieved smile

“Good night, my lord hand”

“Good night my queen”. he said firmly, and you closed the door gently, as a guard was posted at your door

The Very next day, the sweet maids dressed you in one of your mother’s dresses, of when she was young, a reed dress with details of gold and a white collar that made you look truly regal, they fixed your hair and applied a soft powder in your face to even the colors on your skin

They even placed rings in your fingers and a necklace in your neck

Cregan thought a private introduction was better for you, so he ask you break your fast in the gardens, it was getting chilly, but the morning were still beautiful 

As you already had some buttered bread and fruits, Cregan nodded to the man beside them, both appearing  in the garden.

You were a bit startled when Arryk announced them, but smiled as you saw both men approaching

Of course you recognized Cregan, but the man besides him? Gods

He had a… singular… appearance, he was of a dirty blond hair, unruly beard decorated by silver beads, his hair was long thought trimmed in the sides letting you see the skin of his head, the hair that remained, in the center and top of his head was braided backwards by a long braid, he had tattoos in the sides of his skull, he was dressed in blue leather, and furs, high boots. 

He was… peculiar

“My Queen”, said Lord Stark, “may I introduce to you, Lord Reysen Celtigar”, he said, “Son or Bartimos Celtigar, your mother’s master of coins”

“Celtigar?”, you called, impressed

“My beautiful Queen”, he said, dropping to the floor in front of you, “You must not remember me, you were young, but in the years you lived in Dragonstone I visited a few times with my grandsire and father”, he said quickly, “I was, being the second son, send to travel the world, I was not here for the war, sadly…”

“Your house loyalty to mine is clear, my lord”, you said softly, “you should you join me for breakfast”

“You are too kind”, both men sat in front of you

“Lord Celtigar here has traveled far and wide, all over the Seven kingdoms, and even Essos and beyond”, said Cregan softly

“Really?”, you asked

“I shall tell you everything you’d like to know, my sweet Queen”

And Cregan Stark and Reysen Celtigar distracted you from the shadows lurking on the corners of your eyes.

Cregan saw how Reysen shamesly would court you in front of him, how your smile lit up the garden and how you’d giggle like the young women you actually were, this was going to be good for you, have men that are blindly loyal to you, rather by loyalty, or pure desire and love, but loyal in the end.

And that is how the Celtigar was named Master of Laws, he was young, yes, but he had seen things many haven’t yet, he was of Cregan’s age, and his elder brother was the Lord of Claw Island, fiercely loyal to you and your cause.

With a small council made up, people named, only Lord Redwyne was missing.

The Hightowers you hated… wholeheartedly, but you needed to rally the other most important houses of the reach, with the Redwyne and the Tarlys that was possible, assured also

In the coming days and weeks, the castle was brought back to life and filled with people oof all noble houses, the entire city was receiving thousands of lords, ladies and their people

And audiences needed to begin, people were going to swear their allegiance all over the week, they were going to make pleas and requests, and at the end, they were going to watch you being crowned, the location was yet to be disclosed, and Cregan feared you had to make this happen in Harrenhal, were it could held a host this big, but it was too late.

You were going to be crowned at the Throne room

And Cregan could see that your heart was not truly invested, but… today he had the maids dress you and fix your hair in a magnificent way, dressed in black and red and gold, your hair mostly let loose, decorated with golden treads, and a crown made by your own hair half of it braided in magnificent braids

Not a Queen, but you looked like an empress

the epitome of royal power

And the entire seven Kingdoms was going to see you like this. 

He escorted you, alongside your small council, and sat you on the Iron Throne, in front of the room filled with expectant lords and ladies 

“This day, we receive you most lustrous Lords and Ladies from all over the Seven Kingdoms”, presented Cregan, “for you to swear your allegiance to the new Queen and bring an end to the conflict that devastated our lands for two years”, he said out loud, ��you stand in the presence of (Y/N) of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm”

“All hail the Queen!”, chanted Arryk, and the room came alive with their chants

“Hail the Queen!”, it made you shake, grabbing tightly onto the throne

Your grandfather was right, this thing was truly uncomfortable 

“The audiences will begin”, presented Cregan Stark

“Allow me, to be the first!”, Cregan and Reysen shared concerned looks when the first one to step forwards, was, indicated by the embroidery on his clothes, a hightower. 

Your stomach dropped, you suddenly wanted to throw up

“Lyonel Hightower, my Queen”, you raised an eyebrow, not impressed with this pompous individual

“Of course”, you looked at Cregan, annoyed, who had decided to invite this clown into court

“This Kingdom had seen enough war”, he said easily, “let’s stop this animosity, let’s bend broken bonds”

“How do you suggest we do that?”, you asked 

“Through a marriage pact”, he said and you chuckled darkly, “let’s join our houses, my Queen”

“Yes, because that really helped my grandfather, did it not?”, you said with poison in your tongue, “worked so good the last time”, but this clown was clearly not reading the room. The throne room was deadly quiet, but he just kept talking

“I will bring this Kingdom back to glory, with all the power of Oldtown”, he just kept talking, “when I marry you, most gracious Queen, we will have the prowess to…”, he kept going on and on, and you only wanted to throw up, that is until… 

You saw her

Right then, hidden amongst other lords and ladies

Her hair was now tainted with gray, his face cut by age and stress, but she was there… dressed in light blue

Alicent hightower

When she met your eyes you saw her flinch, because they reflected what you felt about her…. utter and pure hate.

“...My aunt”, that is when your attention was returned, “the most gracious Dowager Queen is to be placed back in the citadel…”

“The only place she should be placed is deep in the black cells”, you barely whispered, but that sound alone made the entire court, even the pompous bastard, shut up

“My Queen…”, muttered Alicent, taking a step forwards, and everyone remained quiet

“What do you want?”, you asked, visibly shaking with rage

“I’m here to beseech you, to ask you to give me permission to be sent to Old Town…”

“Why?”, you cut her, “so you can plot on how to take the crown from my family again?”

“No…”, she said, shaking a smile, “I only wish to live the remains of my life in peace”, you scoffed

“My Queen, when we marry, our family…”

“I’d rather die alone than marry a HIghtower”, you said loudly, and you heard gasps and snickers alike, “you don’t understand what is going on, so let me enlighten you, you will surrender your entire treasury to the crown”, you said firmly, and the room was silent again as the color dropped from Lyonel’s face, “ten million golden dragons?”, you said

“But my Queen”

“The hightowers are enemies of the crown as it stands right now”, you said, “and the price to be considered members of the Kingdoms again is that one”

“But…”

“You have two children, they will be my cupbearers, squires of court, here, in the Red Keep”, you muttered, and he nodded rapidly, “fail to meet my expectation, fail to jump when I say so, and I’ll make sure that I truly bring back this kingdoms to the glory they deserve because I will burn your High Tower and the Citadel to the ground, the last dragon is mine to command, remember that, a dragon is worth more than gold, and more than a thousand armies…”, the man shakily dropped to the ground on one knee

“Yes my Queen”

“… and you…”, you turned your rage to Alicent now

Cregan watched you from the corner of his eye, fearing the worst, he had advice you to leave her be, chained, but alive, but he was not going to refute you now, in front of the entire court, if you commanded your guard to slay the old Queen, the order had to be carried out, there was no other choice 

You only grabbed onto the throne tightly, trying to reign in your emotions,

“How dare you?”, you asked finally, the eyes of the old Queen snapped open, “I wanted to have you burn with the rest of the traitors, because you were the true orchestrator of the death of my entire family”, you accused, “YOU!”, you said, standing up, “you usurped my mother and threw the entire Kingdom into chaos, but I, decided to spare you, because of my hand’s advice, to ignore you, let you live the rest of your withered life in peace, yet you have the audacity of coming here and demand things of me”, you said fiercely

“No… I didn’t demand I… It wasn’t me!”, she ran over her own words, nervous

“Lord Hightower”, you called, now turning your attention to the old shivering men in front of you, “thanks to the audacity of your aunt, you will pay for her, five hundred thousand gold dragons, or else”, he opened his eyes widely, but lowered his head

“Yes my queen”

“And you, Alicent, it’s clear that we have been very indulgent, you are from now on forbidden to receive any visitors, and you better spend the rest of your miserable life avoiding me, or else I’ll have your head, because I’m sick of looking at it, I see it every night in my worst and darkest nightmares already”

“Y-your grace”, she trembled

“And everytime you see Lord Stark, you better fall to your knees and kiss the floor where he is about to walk, it is because of him you still draw breath, instead of my parents, my brothers, and your children”, you said with disdain

That is what it took for her to break in sobs, one hand trying to drown them, and the other clutching her chest

With only one look and gesture of hand of Lord Stark, two of your three Queensguards grabbed Alicent gently and removed her from the throne room

You took a long breath as Lyonel and all traces of the color green disappeared from the room. ou closed your eyes for a second, took one, two, three long breaths, and you opened them again, you saw your smile council, Cregan nodded at you, giving you his approval 

“So, who is next?”, you asked out loud, and the entire court seemed to take a step back. Except from one, old Lord, who stepped forwards, helped by a cane and the help of a royal guard

“Lord Bewford, of House Blount your grace”, the man introduced himself and you smiled softly, nodding at him and signaling to him to present his troubles, “I gave 500 hundred men to the cause of the righteous Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, is not much, but in that army where my two sons, they are both gone now”, he murmured, “Winter is coming, I need strong young men to help in the fields and around my household”, he said shakily. You nodded

“I will never forget what you sacrifice for our cause, good Lord”, you said, “I will cut off taxes for the coming season, and furthermore…”, the maester gave you a piece of paper, “I have news of the local orphanage, where girls and boys are in need of roof and food, I bet that with willingness, they can help you in exchange for a home”, you said softly, and the old man’s face lit up

“Thank you, your grace!”, he said, trying to kneel 

Cregan smiled widely, and the rest of the Lords and Ladies took that step forwards raising their hands wanting to be greeted by you. 

It was going to be a long day

But you held your ground with patience and grace, that Cregan thought you must have inherited from your grandparents.

Your rage dwindled as your tiredness grew, but the court did not witness more outbursts, your distaste and even hate for the Hightowers and exclusively to them, make the rest of the royal houses relax and bend the knee more easily, picking sides between the Targaryen Queen and the most hated house in the Kingdoms.

Cregan thought you were going to be met with more resistance, but he was surprised to see the ease with which the Lords and Ladies of the house directed themselves at you. He was amazed by how many marriage proposals you received, to which you made deaf ears to, but they were still there. He had a young page to write down the names, for him to study for future prospects. 

And when you offered Lord Redwyne to be your master of ships and he agreed with a laugh in front of the entire court, that sealed the day. 

The Keep was boasting with life, just as he wanted it to be, now that he didn’t met with incredible support of the houses, he had to separate the true loyal, with the ass licking ones.

He stopped the audiences at four hours after noon, to give you rest, and there were more things he needed to do. 

He had to speak to you about which houses you would like to invite to spend the season at court, to make your court.

He was met in the hallways by Arryk

“Have you done it?”, he asked, “have you looked for potential brothers at arms?”

“Oh yeah, my Lord, but we have a small, or rather… a large problem…” 

“What now?”, they both reached the second story balcony to the courtyard, and Cregan stopped in his tracks when he looked down and the courtyard was filled to the last inch with hundreds of men from all ages and sizes, soldiers, knights

“They all want to do the trials to belong to the new Queensguard”, said Arryk with a wide smile, and Cregan laughed

Of course everyone wanted to serve the young new Queen

“Alright, let’s start by sorting them by Kingdom, and if they have real battle experience”, Cregan commanded, with a smile, “have some fun”

“Yes my Lord”, said Arryk, almost laughing

But then, your new appointed small council called to Cregan Stark to an important meeting

When Cregan entered the small council room he felt the uneasiness, the nervousness of all the important men gathered there, and as he walked to the head of the table, all looks were on him

“Gentlemen”, he greeted, if there was something wrong, he wish they would tell him, “Please, let’s not waste any more time, tell me why we are here, why we are meeting without our Queen”, he said hastily, gods, he hated politics

“My Lord Hand”

“Why are we meeting without the Queen?”, he asked severely

“She is our Queen, yes, but she is young, and clearly unstable. The Hightowers decided to take it, yes, but what when they don’t?”, muttered Lord Redwyne 

“So…?”, he asked, “she is right, they are a haunted house, that brought down the House of the Dragon with their schemes, and their ambition”, he said angrily

“Lord Hightower has a point, the Queen will need a husband, we need security of the Line, and also… someone who will… help her…”, muttered Tyland

“Well, I came up with a list, and we present it to her…”, muttered Cregan

“It has to be you Lord Stark”, said the maester, that did took him by surprise

“No…”, he said

“You signed an alliance”, remembered Lord Lannister

“When I signed it, the Queen was still alive, Young Jacaerys, the heir to the Iron Throne was still alive…”, he said gently, “I was supposed to be married to a princess with five brothers, who was supposed to become the Lady of Winterfell, I was not supposed to become King consort of the Seven Kingdoms”, he said severely 

“It has to be you, Lord Stark!”, said Redwyne again

“How about you?”, he asked, looking at his friend, Celtigar, who had remained quiet, “I have a five year old son!”, he said, “alone in Winterfell, with no mother to care for him, I have to go back to him, I can’t abandon him”

“You can come and go as you please, your wife will have a dragon!”, said the Maester

“it can’t be me”, he repeated

“You are the most loyal and trusting, the one everyone will trust as a King consort”, fought Tyland

This is not what he wanted

He had come here because he had promised the Queen, because he wanted to bring justice, and even perhaps vengeance to the realm

But he had signed the pact of ice and fire…

“The North remembers my Lord, your name, is in that treaty”, said the maester, “I saw you sign it”

This is not what he sign up for

I see you very quiet my Lord Celtigar...

Ok so... this was another chapter of them being... accustomed to their roles... next one we will see more of reader's and Cregan's relationship and we will be more personal... we will also see Aegon again, poor thing... again... sorry for the delay

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd

@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol

#misguidedhour #cregan stark x oc #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen

[lady-ashfade]

Fighting The Storm

—£ Twin!Lucerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader.

—£ Ask“Lucerys twin sister who went with him to storm end and you can decide what happened next.”

—£ Warning: Dragon fighting, Your dragon is called Nightshade, Short story, this is mostly seen as platonic but idk! You choose!

Luke was anxious about leaving. He had many fears of something happening along the way or from storms ends. His only since of relief was to find his way to you and share his feelings and doubts.

As always you brushed your hands into his hair and gave him a pat on the shoulder, “It is our duty.” You pulled him closer and kisses his forehead.

“But if anything happens don’t wait for me, me and nightshade will handle everything. You and arrex can not handle much, promise me this.” You grabbed his hands and made him swear on your mother.

Your whole life you had done what your mother wished for herself and trained to be a knight. You could handle yourself well and it helps that your dragon was a adult, having to claim one as your own.

The way to storms ends put a distasteful taste in your mouth and made your stomach sink but you put on a brave face for him. All your life you had been doing so, keeping him safe and calm.

When the two of your saw Vhagar you grabbed onto him and ask him if he remembers his problem. Making him swear again to keep it.

When you both arrived in the castle you both saw your uncle who sent a shiver down your spine. He looks evil and sadistic when he looked at you, a cocky grin at his lips. You hated him for years but this wasn’t the time to get into family hatred.

 Of course this was never going to be a civil night with him here so one thing lead to another and you took Luke’s hand and ran out. He was to be protected at all cost.

You both sattled your dragons and took off into the storm that now whistles and cries over the sea.

You kept yourself close to your brother and since your dragon was bigger then his, making sure to keep a eye out for aemond.

When vhagar started to appear you hopped in front of your brother and tried to keep the focus on yourself. The whole situation you were protecting your brother, yelling at aemond to stop and let you both go. War had no beginning yet. He only laughed and continued to scare Luke.

You got separated from your brother and you called out for him and listen for any sign. The rain and clouds covered most of your view that you began to panic. “Brother!” You called out for him.

You couldn’t lose him. From the moment you came into the world he was there, your twin. And best friend.

The larger dragon came into view and you couldn’t take it anymore of the torturing and games. “Dracarys.” You screamed and flew closer. Fire was blown onto the dragon as you quickly turned away to kept yourself from harm.

You hoped that Luke had gotten away and that you could buy him time to rush back home.

Seeing aemond tug his ropes back and screaming at vhagar you knew it was a mistake but one you had to own. It would have ending up badly anyway so as long as you saved Luke. That was all that matters.

Luke rushed into castle and searched for his mother while soaked in water but he didn’t feel on his skin. He was on fire, his blood pumping and heart racing. ‘I left her there, my own sister. I left her there to die.’ Those words repeated in his head since he left the storm. At this moment while he breathed in the air you could be drawings your last breath or already be died.

All he sees is your braided hair laying on his shoulder as the sun beamed down on you in kingsland. The both of you sitting by your mother as her bell swelled with a new babe on the way. He sees your smile when you kiss him goodnight on the forehead each night as you jokingly check under his bed for monsters. And, his body wants nothing more then to feel your arms wrapped around him.

“Lucerys.” His mothers voice was finally heard and his head snapped towards her. She clinched her dress and rushed over to her son and checked his body for injuries. He looked more pale then should be possible, and his lips were blue and floor trailed with rain water. “Where is your sister?” She glanced behind him for you since you were never far away from your twin but she saw nothing.

Whimpering, his eyes filled with tears. “I lost her.” His breaths started to pick up and he was losing his breath. “Aemond separated us. They both were no were insight. She made me promise to leave, and I shouldn’t have- I-” he broke down as his mother pulled his head into her shoulder and shh’d him while her own mind raced. Her brother was there, and chasing them no doubt.

“I will ride at once.” Daemon spoke from behind as he grabbed his helmet and sword. Rhaenrya watched him get up, “It is a storm- Daemon.” Rhaenrya did not know what to do at the point. Vhagar was out there and in a storm it would be hard to fight but her little girl was out there somewhere. In the cold, in the rain and probably fighting for her life while praying to get away.

Daemon went to say something but a large dragon call was heard from outside and it was a familiar call. Nightshade. They rushed through the halls to make it outside to see you return, they were anxious.

There stood the tall black scaled dragon with a few cuts on its skin with blood dripping down but it seemed to pay it no mind. The dragon watched a few guards heavily while they focused on something on the ground away from their view. “Y/n!” Rhaenrya knew what it had to be with the dragons intense gaze. She ran across the ground and over to where the scene had taken place and she saw you.

Her little girl laying there with eyes shut and blood staining your clothes. Your mouth stained the same tint as your brothers and skin almost un life like, you looked…Dead. She dropped to her knees and placed up your head into her lap and the men works on the wounds on your body and checked to see if you were still alive. You still had a faint pulse and breath but you could lose that at any moment.

The night was long as the maester did their best to keep you alive. Your mother pacing outside the door wondering if she was to lose another daughter. Daemon sharping his sword and planning a way to make aemond pay. And lucerys, who sat with tear stain cheeks knowing that if you died tonight it would be his fault. It was him who left, it was him who took aemonds eye many years ago to make him do this, it was him he was after. And all you wanted to do was keep him safe.

#lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #lucerys velaryon x twin!reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Goddess of the Luo River ~ Qin Shi Huang x Reader

She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.

She is as nebulous as the moon concealed in light clouds, Gracefully gliding, as snow spun by a flowing wind. He is gazing at her from afar, She shines like the sun rising above the rosy mists of dawn; Observing her close by, She is as luminous as a lotus emerging from clear ripplets.

What lies behind the mask of the 'King Where It All Began' ...?

He... Was the most cursed prince in all of History.

It is held that in the year 260 BC, at the end of the battle of Chang Ping, Bai Qi, General of the Qin Army, had the captured soldiers of the Zhao army buried alive en masse. According to the records of the Grand Historian Shi Ji, the number of men killed was over four hundred and fifty thousand.

The following year, a member of the Qin royal family being kept as a hostage in Zhao, Zichu had an affair with a Zhao dancer. Their child, born in enemy territory, was the boy who would one day become Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor of the Unified China. Ying Zheng.

However, in 257, Zichu returned to Qin alone, and his mother, Lady Zhao, abandoned him. At just two years old, he was cast away by his father, his mother... And his country. King Zhaoxiang of Qin invaded Zhao and laid siege to its capital, Handan.

Five years later, when the little prince was merely seven years of age, living on the outskirts of Handan, he would return to his small and secluded home, having to see the insults and hostile drawings on the walls made by the citizens, and endure the ostracising and death threats from the guards.

Ever after Qin's siege of Handan, Zhao continued to hold Ying Zheng hostage. They placed him under harsh supervision, keeping him alive but never allowing him to live, all while he bore the scorn of the Zhao people.

One day, however, he will experience the foreign feeling of joy for the first time in his life; As he went to buy some groceries, receiving the hatred of the people, a young lady around his age, wearing the simple clothes of a commoner, jumped in defense of him.

"This boy did nothing wrong! Why do you continue beating down on a child who had nothing to do with the massacre? You hate on him, though you should be hating on the evil general Bai Qi, and the King of Qi who committed such atrocities! The sins of the father shouldn't be passed down on an innocent child!" the prince's heart throbbed in shock and flatter, watching someone actually protecting him, let alone say such words about him! "Shut your mouth, wench, what do you know about war and politics?!" one of the men surrounding them spat at her, grabbing her by the neck of the dress. "This child is the reason your father and brother were buried alive by the enemy, along with hundreds of thousands of other good men who protected our country!" "It wasn't this child who gave the order. It wasn't this child who killed my family, nor anyone else's. Your hearts are filled with malice and scorn from loss and poverty, but that doesn't give anyone the right to use an innocent child as a scapegoat for the evil-doings of the higher ups. It's the fault of them and the constant civil wars happening throughout the country! This country will never heal unless we show compassion and understanding!" such beautiful words, such a progressive and revolutionary thinking from someone as young as her! The prince was highly impressed, but he couldn't find any strength in his body to move, he was rooted to the spot, watching the adults throw the girl to the ground, kicking her mercilessly. "If your father heard you, he'd have disciplined your rudeness until it all bled out! How dare you, a stupid, uneducated woman, speak back to a man? Your father would have beaten you until you learnt to bite down on that vile tongue of yours." she hadn't let out a single yelp, nor did she curse or complain until the punishing was over and the crowd dispersed.

"What do they know of my father, anyway? He was a kind man, he'd never hit me for speaking my mind." the girl scoffed, getting up on her feet and patting her clothes. "Are you alright, My Prince?"

But the prince felt like crying; He wanted desperately to throw his arms around the girl, thank her for standing up for him, for defending and protecting him, but at the same time, she was bleeding and bruised after her feat, and it was all because of him. "F-Forgive me... Forgive me... Because of me, you... You got hurt... I'm so sorry..." he wanted to cry... He wanted to cry so badly... "Aiya, don't say that. It wasn't you who hurt me, you are innocent in all this mess. It is the evilness that hurt me, along with these wars and crimes that keep happening." she sighed softly. "If only there was one man who could unite the country and stop the civil wars, the people would be living in peace and harmony, and the seed of hatred would rot." she shook her head dismissively, before smiling at the boy. "My Prince, I can see you are desperately trying to bite down your tears - You needn't, not in front of me. If you wish me to, I can be your shoulder to cry on, or a reason to smile. You are a kind child, you don't deserve everything that's happening to you." the girl held his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "Let me show you a special place."

Thus, the girl dragged the little Prince to some part of the outskirts where he's never been before; An abandoned garden that though unattended to, still retained its beauty and grace, with green plants and colourful flowers as he's never seen before. Truly, this must be the prettiest part of all Zhao, the boy thought.

From a hidden spot inside a thick bush, Y/N dragged a chest filled with the most expensive silk clothes and beautiful accessories - And even a pipa lute and make-up! "I've always loved dancing, you see. This place is my special place. Mum showed it to me, and grandma showed it to mum. Since when this chest has been here, or when did the garden get abandoned, I do not know, but I am happy regardless." she giggled softly, discarding the ratty outer layer of her clothes and putting on a lovely pink dress. "My dream has been, since I've seen mum dance for the first time, to become a dancer at the high court. I love the pretty dresses and all the accessories, and the music also. Alas..." she smiled sadly, trailing her fingertips softly across the melodious strings of the pipa. "Men with wealth and status care little that a dancer is not a courtesan, and there is no one to protect us from their lecherous hands."

Ying Zheng could only sit down and watch the girl before him transform into the most graceful fairy, and with elegant moves, her body flowed like the river through a flower meadow, and the orchid fragrance in the Spring wind. He was completely mesmerised by the beauty in front of him. "My grandma danced for grandpa only, and my mum for my dad. I, too, hope to one day marry the love of my life, and bewitch him with my dancing." her smile was so carefree and filled with glee that the prince found himself completely enchanted. "But... I like to dream big. I may be just a simple, common girl, with no family, no money and no status... In spite of this... I do hope that somehow, I would be able to dance in front of people and make them happy, and smile, with my dancing." she glided around the flowers like a peony nymph, her pink skirts flying around her like the rich petals of said flower. "Until then, I suppose I should just continue perfecting my choreographies." "Y-You dance beautifully." the prince managed to stutter out, still under the afterglow of the dance, and the stunning pose she ended in. "If it matters, you made me feel very happy." "Hao!" she giggled sweetly. "You have a gorgeous smile. I hope to see you smiling so genuinely all the time when we're together."

The prince continued to blush deeply, though his heart was throbbing with joy as never before. A single day, however, only has so many hours, and with the afternoon gone, the Sun was setting and the starry skies were reflected in his gorgeous eyes.

"W-Would it be too rude and daring t-to ask you to please be my friend?" the boy bowed down humbly at her, only to hear a sweet giggle. "Y/N. Call me Y/N. And I will call you by your given name - Zheng." she quickly took the jade pendant from her sash and tied it to his own. "There, a token of my care and friendship for you. Now that we call each other by our given name, we are soul bound." "B-But... I-I don't have anything to give you..." the boy's lips trembled with emotion. "Hmm... Let me think..." her sweet smile turned mischievous, as she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Remember what I said about the wars? That only the King of all Kings can unite our country and bring peace?" he nodded silently. "When you become Emperor, don't forget about me. That's the only thing I wish from you. To be friends forever, no matter what the course of time may bring for us. How's that sound?" The little prince looked up at her, his starry eyes sparkling with joy and love, and a soft blush painting his porcelain cheeks. He grinned widely, like a happy child, and he repeated the single word that she adopted from her - A word that will become his most favourite word. "Hao!"

Many days passed, and the friendship between Zheng and Y/N only grew stronger, and so did their crush on one another. Y/N became even more protective over the boy, thus receiving even more scorn and disciplining - The adults could afford disciplining an orphan girl with no status, but they couldn't beat the Prince. Even his deep sorrow dissipated when he saw her dance.

That is, until Y/N walked him home one afternoon, and there, waiting for him, was a woman, blowing into a spinning windwheel. "Are you Ying Zheng?" the stern-looking woman asked. "Who asks?" Y/N frowned, stepping protectively in front of him, glaring at her viciously - But the boy was mellow and didn't want to upset anyone, nor incur another's wrath, and he simply bowed and affirmed that it was him, the prince. "I didn't think you'd be so young. Tsk." she frowned, rolling her eyes. "Who are you and what do you want with the Prince?" Y/N's loud and firm voice made the woman's eyebrow rise. "I'm Chun-Yan, his new live-in caretaker and bodyguard. Which means..." she jumped off the stone lamp and though she could tower over the prince, as the girl was right there, shielding him, she still felt intimidating. "I can roll you, fold you, or do whatever the hell I want with you." "Yes, ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you." the prince bowed deeply, only for the girl to hiss at the woman and close her fan, bonking her in the head. "Who do you think you are, threatening a child like this? I'll kill you if you even look at him the wrong way." Chun-Yan was rather amused by the braveness of this peasant girl, and she scoffed, straightening up and walking towards the humble home of the prince. "Well, whatever. First things first, show me around this place."

As she opened the doors, she noticed the dilapidated state of complete disrepair that the small home of the hostage prince was; A complete dump filled with broken windows and walls, and furniture, mold growing everywhere and everything was shit.

"God, what a dump this is! Though, I guess it suits a reject from the Qin royal family." the nasty comment made Y/N yell at her again. "Fuck off, will you?!" the woman stared in shock - A little girl cursed like a sailor man! "You are just as evil as all the others around! We don't need you here! Go away! You're only going to hurt him, you evil, nasty woman!" "D-Don't worry, Y/N! It's really okay!" Yin Zheng forced a wide smile on his face. "Would you like something to drink? If water is alright, I'll go fetch some." he bowed again. "... Are you really seven?" she muttered in disbelief before slumping down on the table. "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" she yelled, pointing a finger at him. "A kid your age oughta be crying or throwing a fit at the drop of a hat, but you've just been grinning ear to ear this whole time. It's givin' me the creeps." Y/N didn't even have the time to yell at the woman again, for the prince started dancing around like a monkey. "Are you makin' fun of me?!" "WILL YOU JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE ALREADY?!" Y/N's anger was through the roof. "Who do you think you are, treating him like this?! I bet you lost someone to the burying, didn't you? Well, that's you and EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS CITY! INCLUDING ME!" she glared up at Chun-Yan, who looked flabbergast at the girl. "I lost my dad and brother! My mum killed herself from grief! I've been all alone to survive and fend for myself since I was barely four years old - But I don't go around blaming a child for the evil-doings of those warmongers! Why is it so hard for adults to understand that Ying Zheng did nothing wrong?! That you should be blaming THEM, not a child who was barely a BABY when it happened!" the woman was stunned. "You are a woman! Women are supposed to be gentle and caring towards children! You are a disgrace to all of girl-kind!"

The woman remained silent for a few seconds, staring down at the gleaming eyes of the girl who started crying from the deep rage she felt - And suddenly, Chun-Yan felt guilt and remorse. The girl was right, she wasn't any different than everyone in Handan, or Zhao itself. To think a child would have more wisdom than a rage-blinded adult...

"Let's clean this place already. You can't expect me to sleep in some dingy hut like this." Chun-Yan scoffed, taking the broom and beginning to clean this place properly - Though no amount of work could properly make this run-down home into a beautiful and safe haven.

Regardless, Ying Zheng and Y/N helped in the cleaning up, and though the boy felt incredibly on edge around a stranger, Y/N and Chun-Yan were constantly yelling at each other. The place was... Pretty loud and tense - Yet thus began their unusual pseudo-familial life.

Chun-Yan took the two children for grocery shopping again, only to see the true horrors of the prince's daily life, as one of the merchants threw the food on the ground, urging the prince to eat the sand-filled meat - At the same time, Y/N quickly jumped to shield the boy, as the people around started glaring at him, accusing him of killing their children or relatives. They all wanted to kill him, while he could only force a smile and bow at them humbly.

Anger. Curse. Hate. Curse. Kill. Curse. Evil. Curse. Grudge. Curse. Sad. Curse.

When they returned home, Chun-Yan stopped the lone boy from going to rest, and revealed the many injuries on his body. Apparently, whenever he saw someone getting injured, his own body started getting scars in the same place, and feel the pain of said person. Y/N knew, and that's why she tried her best to protect him, but it wasn't always working. It was all because of the constant hatred from the people of Zhao that he developed such an accursed condition.

It was just a little pain, he'd say. The wounds will heal, eventually... Though his body said another thing, and he almost fainted. Ying Zheng's smile had been instinctively learned by him at the mere age of seven, as a way to allay, even only slightly, the hatred constantly searing his body. "Some day, maybe they'll forgive me... Won't day?" a most pitiful armor.

"Forgive you...? Who do you think you're kidding here?! Huh?! How the hell can you just keep grinning like an idiot?! Why don't you get angry?! Why don't you hate them?!" Chun-Yan started crying - She was now fully understanding Y/N's angry tears and the frustration she felt at the way Zhao was treating an innocent child. "What happened back then... At Chang Ping... HAS GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! IT ISN'T RIGHT THAT YOU'RE GETTING HURT! SO STOP FORCING YOURSELF TO HOLD BACK! IF YOU WANNA CRY, THEN CRY! IF YOU'RE FEELING MAD, THEN LET IT OUT! STOP KILLING YOURSELF FROM THE INSIDE AND LYING TO YOURSELF ABOUT HOW YOU FEEL!" she yelled at him, falling on the ground weakly, watching the still forced smile on his face. "G-Get angry...? Cry...? I-I could never do that... B-Because I'm... I'm the child of a nation that kills people. I-I'm a cursed child... Th-That's why, I..." for the first time in his life, Ying Zheng felt the embrace of a mother. "It doesn't matter how awful your parents are - Their kid doesn't deserve to be punished! You haven't done anything wrong, nothing at all..." tears were drenching her face, all the guilt and regret overwhelming her. "Y/N was right... Y/N cares so much for you, she only wants the best for you." she found herself speaking in a milder voice. "You're a kind person, who understands people's pain. Your wounds are proof of that, not some punishment or curse." the boy's body was trembling violently. "Ying Zheng. You can live however you want to live."

For the first time in his life, Ying Zheng allowed himself to wail out all of his distress, all the pain, the agony and suffering he's been feeling this entire time, and his mother figure encouraged him. "Why me?! I haven't done anything! Nothing at all! I hate them! I hate everyone! DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT ALL!!!!!!"

It was the first night he slept peacefully, and when he woke up, the woman offered him a pretty scarf to cover his eyes. If he can't see the pain of others, then maybe he won't be feeling it? It was worth a try. She made it herself, after all. When her child was still alive, this used to be a piece of cake for her to do.

The boy, with the most beautiful smile in the world, tied the scarf over his eyes. "HAO!" he joyfully exclaimed. "Thanks, Chun-Yan! I'll take good care of it!" "Hao? I like that word too!" the woman grinned at him. He truly was adorable.

Since then, Y/N and Chun-Yan became the only persons Ying Zheng could be around and not feel any pain. Every day he spent with them, Ying Zheng was able to smile and have fun from the bottom of his heart. They would clean up the graffiti and even learn martial arts - Sometimes, they'd even prank the people who used to bully him; And his smile became more and more cheerful. Ying Zheng was truly happy.

However... King Zhaoxiang of Qin, and soon after, his son, King Xiaowen, passed away - And so, in 250 BC, the man who abandoned Ying Zheng, Zichu, ascended to the throne, and thus... Ying Zheng unexpectedly became the crown prince, the first in line to the throne, and was permitted to return to Qin.

"Ha! To think that some silly words I said would actually come true. I must be a Seer or something." Y/N grinned at the crying boy. "Crown Prince Ying Zheng. That sounds very good! Hao! I like that!" "Won't you come with me?! Please?! Please?! Don't leave me alone, I need you! We are friends, aren't we?!" the boy was sobbing, holding tightly onto the girl. "Forgive me, I cannot." she sighed, embracing him. "Not only am I a Zhao citizen, but... I am also a peasant. I would never be allowed anywhere near the Crown Prince." she kissed his cheek, patting his hair. "But when you get older and ascend to the throne - If you still remember me, and want to see me again, then you can always send for me. I will wait for you a thousand lifetimes, if needed. Just to see you again. The beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes."

Before he left, Y/N stole a quick peck on his lips, and waved him goodbye; Whilst Chun-Yan was laughing copiously, she had to drag the stunned boy away, his face burning fiercely from a blush. "I'll make you my Empress, Y/N! Wait for me! I'll keep my promise!" they truly were adorable, the woman thought, as the carriage left for Qin.

Thus, however, not only Y/N, but Ying Zheng would remain alone for so long, as Y/N had no one else in Zhao, and with the scorned people of Zhao no longer holding the prince as a hostage, they sent mercenaries to kill him. As a last motherly act of love, Chun-Yan used her martial arts to battle them all, though she would be fatally injured. "YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY KID!" she yelled, killing the last one.

As she lay dying in his arms, she told him the truth - That Y/N was right about her all along. She was a scorned, grieving parent, with her child, similar in age to the prince, having been buried alive. Her beloved Chun-Ou. She could do nothing to save him, for she dug in the dirt with her nails desperately, but couldn't even find him to give him a proper send-off. She wanted too see the prince, to scold him for being a useless, evil brat... She wanted to vent her anger and resentment... But she couldn't.

If a kid like Ying Zheng could become the King - Someone who could understand people's pain... Perhaps someone like him could change this fucked-up world a little, the very same way he changed her. "Become the greatest king of them all." it was the same promise that Y/N also bestowed upon him.

Before she died though, she didn't see Ying Zheng, but Chun-Ou. "I didn't know you were there, Chun-Ou. Let mama get a good look at your face." "Mama..." the prince held her dearly in his arms, placing her hand over his face, and he smiled at her, watching how vitality swiftly dissipated from her eyes. "Hao." she lay lifeless in his arms as he wept for her.

Afterward, Ying Zheng arrived safely at Xianyang, the capital of Qin, and on July 6th 247 BC, following the death of Zichu, Ying Zheng became the King of Qin, at the mere age of twelve.

"Let's walk my--..." Ying Zheng smiled, tying the scarf around his eyes. "No. Let's walk the Path of an Emperor. Together. Y/N. Chun-Yan." and true to his words, at 37 years of age, Ying Zheng became Qin Shi Huang, The First Emperor in History to unite all of China.

On the day Ying Zheng was crowned as the King of Qin, he also began being pestered by his advisors and elders to marry soon and produce an heir; After all, every King must have a Queen and concubines to perpetuate the royal lineage. Of course, the Prince didn't care for such things, nor did he want to think about anyone else that wasn't Y/N - But they were still so young! Life was fully ahead of them! On the other hand, it could be a great pretext to bring Y/N to the court and start lavishing her with all the luxuries that the palace has to offer.

Though the King of Qin had room for surprise, along with all the people at the royal meeting, as the large doors of the palace were pushed open, and a beautiful young lady resembling a flower fairy, dressed in rich silks, pink like the petals of a peony stepped on the golden rug that led towards the throne. She had a long spear in her grasp. As she started singing, the King ripped the scarf off his face, and those starred eyes gleamed with glee, his smile wide like never before. They truly must be soulmates, if Y/N could do exactly the same thing that he himself intended to do!

Two loving souls, so cruelly parted In madness and grief, a dark path started Calamity was drawn, rituals subverted But by her lovely dance, was sadness averted.

Ying Zheng didn't think it humanly possible, for a human to glide even more gracefully than he first saw her dancing, a few years prior.

The Phoenix returned to a home without luster; The cobwebs overgrown, the grave-shrouds a-fluster. But one bond upon her, This world could not muster.

"Thus does the tale of the Auspicious Phoenix end - Yet today, a new melody I have to append." the King was truly mesmerised by her lovely voice, and the way she lit the spear on fire and twirled it around so masterfully, kicking it and rotating with it, throwing it in the air, creating the image of a dancing Phoenix. "Hao! Sing me a happy story, Y/N!" he grinned, leaning forward in his throne.

From the world she seems apart But there is one who knows her heart With graceful swaying and a flaming spear To still the raging skies and the shattered hearts

Y/N's smile was so enchanting that it bewitched the King - Her dancing was as she hoped, a means to grow the seed of joy into people's hearts, replacing the darkening hatred.

The Phoenix once returned, And at once, she was spurned. She turned, and left alone...

Y/N, in a swift move, extinguished the flames from the spear, and stepped up the stairs leading to the throne. "Though now, she might be found to whom she is bound - Her love."

Ying Zheng's face was split by a wide, cheerful grin, and in an unexpected move, he threw his arms around the girl, pulling her into his lap and kissing her cheek. "Hao! My Phoenix returned home!" "Just in time to see her beloved dragon soaring the skies." she replied tenderly, only multiplying the excitement of his heart. "The only dance I love above all is that of the Phoenix and the Dragon amongst Heavens." he declared boldly. "Y-Your Majesty, who is this woman?! And how did she even manage to get inside the palace? With a weapon, no less!" having escaped the charm of the beautiful maiden, the elders started murmuring amongst each other. "She is the Empress, of course!" Ying Zheng laughed merrily, loving the unrest amongst his advisors, telling him he couldn't just marry anyone. "I am the King! I can do whatever I want!" and true to his words, Y/N had a most beautiful coronation ceremony, and her red and gold robes truly made her look like the Phoenix that she was.

Not only the Kingdom of Qin, but the whole Empire of China was going to prosper greatly under the rule of Emperor Qin Shi Huang and his Empress, Y/N. She was there to help him rule, with equal power as his own, and a fantastic wisdom and benevolence like no other. She was there to guide him as he walked the path of killing the demon Chi You. They lived a good life, along with all the people of China.

The two would love each other and live in perfect harmony until their eventual death due to mercury poisoning, at an age before even reaching half a century.

In the afterlife, just like in reality, Qin Shi Huang would have to fight to protect his people, as he was chosen as a human representative fighter in this mess the Gods created, Doomsday, the wish to eradicate mankind. He already killed a demon, and now, he was ready to kill a God.

He couldn't wait for too long in his own room, and with how directionally challenged he was, he walked through walls until he found the Gods' private balcony where Ares and Hermes were, and he flipped the God of War out of his seat, getting comfortable on the cushy seat, even causing the Messenger God to pour him honey mead.

"You know I can't walk fast in these clothes, you little menace." a feminine voice, very much amused, took the attention of the two Gods. "Oh, that's a lovely view of the arena!" the regal looking woman shamelessly sat on his lap, her arms around his neck as he offered her his drink. "This is really good! Can we get more?" bowing, the butler looking God poured some more.

The doors were slammed open again, and the little Valkyrie, Goll, yelled at them, followed by the elder one, Brunhilde. "Goodness! Even after I'd expressly told you NOT to leave your room - And what's more, you've left the corridors FULL of holes!" the elder one was more amused than scolding. "Mou mantai!" the two laughed, free of any care. "The road is where I lead!" he grinned, holding onto Y/N's waist, clingy like a child. "Come on, we have to go." Hilde spoke. "I refuse! We've taken a liking to this place! And besides, we definitely won't grow bored here." the man exclaimed. "In case you weren't aware - YOU will be fighting in round Seven." Hermes and Ares gasped in shock, as the Emperor, holding his love in his arms, jumped on the backseat of the couch.

"HAO!" he grinned confidently. "Finally! I'd grown tired of waiting!" "Now, let's head to the entrance gate, shall we?" Hilde sweatdropped at the unhinged behaviour of the bratty Emperor. "The dragon soars the path of the Emperor! The road is where Qin Shi Huang leads!" Y/N declared boldly, unfolding her fan dramatically.

From underneath the Gods balcony, all of China's Emperors after Qin Shi Huang unraveled a large red and gold rug, making way for the very first Emperor to lead the way to victory - Covering all the minor Gods from the stands. None mattered, except for Qin Shi Huang.

"Hao! That's how the Emperor has to be treated!" Y/N hopped from his arms, and off the balcony, waltzing ahead and leading the way forward - From her sleeves, butterflies would flutter, and where she waved her fan, red flower petals burning like cinders would breeze in a majestic dance, matching her own enchanting one.

She is lightsome as a startled Phoenix, And he, as graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Whilst his radiance surpasses the springtime pine.

She is as nebulous as the moon concealed in light clouds, Gracefully gliding, as snow spun by a flowing wind. He is gazing at her from afar, She shines like the sun rising above the rosy mists of dawn; Observing her close by, She is as luminous as a lotus emerging from clear ripplets.

She sang the song that Ying Zheng loved the most, resembling the Goddess of the Luo River - The Beauty of China, Luo Shen. Though the Emperor hated that she ended up so heart broken over her husband's death, going so far as to drown herself in the river - He couldn't help but admire the pure love between her and her husband, mutually intertwined, just as he and Y/N were; Truly, all his life, he admired everything about her, and strived to become a man worthy of her lover. He wanted to be the man she could depend on, the man who could prove for her.

And thus, he became the Emperor.

As the song ended, Qin took out the bamboo flute and, stepping into the ring and playing the tune that harmonised perfectly with his Empress' graceful moves. Her dress, a deep shade of red like fire, flew around her like the Auspicious Phoenix that she was, and with her golden Dragon, they danced the Celestial melody of Heavens.

Heimdall, as well as all the rest watching, were mesmerised at the elegance displayed in their bonding, true love like no other radiating strongly from their smiles; He couldn't even begin the introductions as he watched the Emperor pick his lady in his arms, two fates intertwined, dancing coiled around each other eternally - And ending with a kiss. Their fairy-tale like love made all those watching deeply envious.

As the two lovers kept gazing into each other's eyes, the God announced the Emperor's great deeds, before calling out his title as the humans all chanted his name; the Gods boo'ed, angry that he was so arrogant, even going as far as too show off his love-life like that. As Y/N kissed him shamelessly, in front of the whole Valhalla, a young lady, Alvitr, had rageful tears in her eyes for being left forgotten at the Mankind gate.

"Mou mantai! I'm an Emperor, after all." he waved dismissively, before picking her up carefully in his arms. "Come a little closer." she was blushing so bad. "No need to be so rough, my boyish young lady." he chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, little lady. Zheng is going to take good care of you." Y/N patted her hair, watching her completely fall in love with the handsome man, and in one burst of lightning, the Volundr was formed. "Hao! This fits me nicely!" he grinned, showing off his Almighty Spaulders. "As handsome as always, my darling." she kissed his cheek again, though she felt a chill shiver down her spine as the God of the Underworld, Hades, walked forward.

Not only was he ready to avenge his brother, but he was also feeling envious at the way Y/N so openly loved and pampered her husband, the same way he wished his beloved Persephone would.

Before this battle of King vs Emperor could begin, Y/N gladed towards the stands where the Emperors were standing - Right where Chun-Yan and Chun-Ou were, and she got helped up in the stands. An Empress shouldn't have to find her way around the maze-like corridors - The First Empress of China had every right to walk the shortest and easiest road to where she wished to.

As the fight began, Hades thrust forward a single strike, loaded with tremendous power - A single thrust meant to kill. He continues to attack with one heavy-class jab after another, but the Emperor never once got hit; And even when he used one of his strongest attacks, named after his wife, Qin Shi Huang only had his body nicked.

The next straight thrust, the Emperor deflected, easily catching the handle of the bident before throwing back the attack - His own power added to that of Hades, sending him sailing backwards painfully hard - It was Qin Shi Huang's Chi You - Armor form: Sword, Armor, Spear, Crossbow, Halbert - Heavenly Hand of Defense.

As they say, the best offense is a good defense. The reverse is also valid. "Hades, King of the Netherworld... Was it? Let me tell you a thing." as the dust evaporated, the God's form was slumped to the ground, a large crater in the wall where he hit it. "There can only be one Emperor in the world, and that man is I!" he confidently declared.

He didn't fight for six whole days against the Demon God Chi You for nothing. He didn't raise above all the other so-called King for nothing. He didn't become the first unifier of China, the first Emperor, the King where it all began - For nothing!

Ying Zheng - Qin Shi Huang - Was the only man worthy of being called The Emperor!

Hades managed to stand up. He was bleeding from his head and his torso was injured. "Qin Shi Huang, was it? Tell me one thing - What in your eyes makes a King?" "A king?" he grinned. "One who never doubts! Never yields! Never relies! And always stands as the leader of his people! That is what makes a King!" Hades was awestruck by the answer, and even started laughing merrily. Nobody alive ever heard the Lord of the Underworld laugh so boomingly. Ying Zheng joined in the laughing. "You remind me of someone I know... All too well. He was more noble than any other God, more steadfast than any other - And the God most worthy of the title of King. My younger brother, Poseidon, King of the Seas." he extended his arm forward, showing off the weapon. "And I swear by his name, as his elder brother, I shan't give in to a mere King of Men!"

Thus, with a weird stance, Hades unleashed an attack, the proper way of fighting with a spear; With all his might, he delivered a crushing downward swing. The Emperor shielded himself with his arms. "I AM THE KING OF THE UNDERWORLD - HADES! FALL AND BE CRUSHED!"

The King of Men was slammed face-down, flat onto the ground. "ZHENG!" Y/N yelled his name, watching his spit a bunch of blood, struggling to stand up. "Ahh, it's sticky, all soaked with blood. Buhao." he groaned, hanging his head. "Mou mantai..." he sighed, a little disappointed as he took off his cherished scarf. All Emperors bowed down in his honour, gazing his handsome face for the first time. "Now then - Shall we continue, King of the Netherworld?" he grinned confidently. despite the blood painting his face. "So you can take one of my attacks and still smile. I would expect nothing less from a King!" Hades grinned, launching into a ferocious flurry with his rigid spear.

Qin Shi Huang has no choice but to roll with the thrusts; He was waiting for an opportunity to use his special technique. As Hades used the Smasher of Earth down on his head, the Emperor had to shield himself again; But this time, he didn't fall - Using his breath to weaken the attack, he grabbed onto the blade of the bident, and slammed the wielder into the ground, breaking it.

But just as before, any wound that Ying Zheng sees, he receives also - And though he managed to injured Hades, he also felt intense pain. Even in a direct combat, Qin used his breath onto Hades' chest, and with his claw-like fingers, he used the Mount Tai, Dragon Claw technique, delivering an intense strike, leaving an awful mark onto his abdomen.

Ying Zheng's starry eyes weren't just beautiful - They could actually see the stars of living beings. The flow of Qi. Qin could see the cruxes as stars. The double edged gift that served him as both a blessing and a curse. "Ahh, this is why I hate fighting with my eyes." Qin grinned, baring through the blazing pain in his abdomen. "Aw man, that really hurts."

"Don't make fun of me... Do you call yourself the Greatest King?" Hades chuckled light-heartedly. "King of the Underworld, you are strong - But I promised two special people that I would become the Greatest King - So I can't lose to anyone!" to get the most out of his fantastic martial arts, Qin Shi Huang was given a Divine Weapon specialising in defence - Alvitr; The secret ability behind her name is - Army Guardian! "You are strong, King of Humans. A promise of never losing, right?" Hades clenched his fist around his own blood. "I also have something I want to protect. My oath."

Thus, Hades advanced again, spinning his bident like a windmill, destroying the air bullets coming his way - Qin could barely defend himself against the attacks coming his way, though even when he struck, the two were equal in power, and Hades' forearm was mauled. "Even though you're human, you made it this far, huh? I'm going to kill you... But first, I wanted to say that you were magnificent." Hades declared boldly. "Hao!" Zheng grinned at his opponent.

From the stands, every human was cheering for the Emperor. Y/N especially was the loudest, along with Chun-Yan and her little boy, Chun-Ou.

Once again, Hades did something remarkably unusual - Not only did he begin to whistle the tune of his dear younger brother, Poseidon, before self-inflicting a large gash on his chest and splattering not only himself, but his weapon in a shower of crimson life essence. Drenched in blood, Hades rushes Qin, changing mid hit his thrust into a downward swing - He managed to find a way to counter his disruption of Qi. "You pose no threat to me."

Hades' blood wasn't SIMPLY blood. "Assemble!" the King of the Underworld ordered his weapon to transform into a mighty strength to be reckoned with; Any Divine Weapon that his blood, the Pluto Ichor, spills upon harbors the God's life force and becomes even more powerful... But the longer he keeps it up, the higher the risk of death. "King of Men, this is my trump card." he got in a battle stance with his new weapon, the Four-Blooded Spear of Destiny - Ichor: Desmos. "Tear at his flesh - Desmos!" this almighty thrust managed to break through the powerful armor of the Emperor. "I cannot lose. As their elder brother, I shan't be defeated!"

The Valkyrie Alvitr made herself seen to her human, worrying over him - Not only half of his hand, but his shoulder also were heavily destroyed. "Mou mantai. Compared to the pain of others, my own pain is scarcely anything to bear." he declared selflessly, like the fantastic leader that he is. "Alvitr... If we don't do something, we stand no chance at winning. I think we should bet everything on this next strike." he spoke, more seriously, only to annoying the young Valkyrie. "THAT WAS PATHETIC!" she yelled at him, as a scold. "SAY WHAT YOU WANT LOUD AND CLEAR, LIKE AN EMPEROR! YOU SHOWED OFF WITH YOUR EMPRESS LIKE THAT - AND NOW YOU WANT TO LOOK UNCOOL AND DIE IN FRONT OF HER?! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE BELIEVING IN YOU?!" she huffed like a brat. "How haughty of you, my boyish young lady." he smiled, looking up at the stands where his most cherished people were cheering on him. "I WANT TO WIN NO MATTER WHAT!" he yelled, loud and clear, as he should have. "Haha, I know! Really... You Kings are so stubborn!" she giggled, reinforcing their bond even further. "Let me give you all the power I've got!" thus, the Almighty Spaulders were recast into the Shi Huang Goujian Sword. The best defense truly is a remarkable offense.

"I am EMPEROR! King among Kings! And a King only takes pride in protecting his people!" Ying Zheng's starry eyes shone brightly with hope and power, whilst his dazzling smile remained as confident as ever before. "Excellent, O, lofty King - Now let us tear at his very heart, Desmos!" he, who bore the pride of the Gods and laid down his own life; The King of the Netherworld -- And he, who knew the pain of others, and fought for the sake of his people, the King Where It All Began.

Only a King can understand the mind of a King. And these two Kings could both tell that the end of the match was nigh.

Hades went forward, using Desmos: Eos once again, and Ying Zheng retaliated with Chi You: Sword Form; Shi Huang Yan cut. He was driven back, his already damaged left arm ripping clean off from the shoulder and flying across the arena. "ZHENG!" though the Emperor could hear his wife's desperate voice, calling out to him - He simply laughed merrily, seeing Alvitr's worried expression, looking down at him.

"It's beautiful...! What a beautiful star I see!" surprising everyone, the Emperor managed to use his sword to stand up once again. "A king never doubts. A King never yields. A King never relies." even with his arms ripped off like that, and the awful injuries sustained, Ying Zheng kept standing tall and ready to fight. "And a King never surrenders!" he was standing up through sheer willpower. "I can't let my wife see her husband dying, you know? I promised to only ever make her happy - So I can't cause her tears of distress now!"

He could hear them - The voices of the people. He's been fighting all this time to keep his promise to Y/N and Chun-Yan; To bring the people not hatred, but happiness. Everyone was cheering for him. The Greatest King of All Kings - Qin Shi Huang.

"Look, I know you don't wanna give up, but what are you gonna do exactly?" Alvitr asked, a little confused but ready to fight to the bitter end by the side of this worthy man. "I'm going to use Heavenly Hand of Defense once more." he spoke weakly, watching her distress and worry. "Trust me - I am THE Emperor!" Alvitr smiled, filled with hope and confidence thanks to this man. "You're just... Haha! No need to ask!" she, too, got in a fighting stance next to him, supporting him from within his soul. "HAO!" the Emperor exclaimed, thrusting the tip of his sword forward, to mit that of Hades' spear. "I consider myself proud to have been able to fight you." both the Gods and Mankind, and every eye upon the arena could sense that this very next clash would be the final one of Round Seven.

And the first to make a move was the King of the Netherworld, with a fearsome thrust from Desmos, loaded with all the Ichor that Hades could give; Against this gully-powered attack from the King of the Netherworld which seemed as though it could kill with a simple graze, the King of Men, without hesitation, caught it. Chi You Armor Form: Heavenly Hand of Defense.

Everyone had braced themselves for the end, save for the King Where It All Began... Who managed to use Tortoise Ripple to hit Desmos' Qi Star. It got weaker. Desmos was alive, not a lifeless weapon, and Hades hadn't taken that into consideration - He brought his spear to life, his most powerful advantage, but also, his most fatal disadvantage.

Ying Zheng had never forgotten, not even for an instant, that his own life began from the end - When the woman he loved most, his wife, along with his cherished mother-figure, Chun-Yan, showed him... That a King is one who arises from the end, and brings about the Beginning.

Desmos was shattering in his fighter's grasp, and the Human representative managed to impale his sword through the God's torso. "Magnificent!" Hades praised. "Nothing less...!" though he tried to use the broken handle of his weapon to kill Qin Shi Huang, he failed, for the Emperor sliced him open. "... from a King." Hades was unable to make good on his vow. He failed as an elder brother, but the Emperor managed to keep his oath to all the people that relied on him. "Forgive me."

As Hades lay dead on the ground, Heimdall announced Emperor Qin Shi Huang as the winner of the Seventh Round of Ragnarok, and with it, Mankind was in the lead, 4 to 3. "I am grateful that I could speak with you, King of the Netherworld." the Emperor clenched his fist to his chest, in honour of the admirable and honorable fight between two Kings. "Pengyou." through this battle to the death, the two Kings became friends.

Gods and Humans alike were showing their respects to the King of the Netherworld as he was shattering into glowing shard of green soul and ascending into the skies. In under 13 minutes, the King of all Kings defeated a God.

Just as before, the Emperors watching the match helped the Phoenix Empress descend into the ring so she could run to her husband, supporting him and the little Valkyrie lady up. "You were fantastic, you two. Now you may rest. I will take you to the infirmary at once." both of them, like a happy family, smiled at each other. "Don't push yourself too hard. You look even more banged up than me." Alvitr joked. "Mou mantai!" he chuckled at her reassuringly. "Mou mantai? You sure don't look it, silly man. Let me support you two." Y/N giggled, getting in between them two and holding onto them with all her force. "Honestly, it's a miracle you're even alive right now." Alvitr scolded him lightly. "That isn't true, Alvitr. Did I not say it before? Trust me!" his reassuring grin made the girl emotional. "You really are stupid." the Valkyrie's smile trembled. "H-Hey, can't you keep standing up?" Y/N released Alvitr from her grasp, supporting the Emperor as he lost consciousness. "Alvitr, if you have any strength in you, please help me hold him!"

The Valkyrie yelled for the paramedics to rush already - He needed urgent, intensive care. The nurses quickly brought the table and put the Emperor, rolling him quickly towards the Intensive Care unit where he will be taken until his condition is stabilised.

Ying Zheng and Alvitr also were kept in capsules to better their vital functions, and in between them, sat Y/N, smiling softly at the two. The Valkyrie was already a divine being, she was going to be alright... But Ying Zheng is still a human and was in a particularly critical condition - Whether he survives this or not, depends on his own strength to live.

"Ying Zheng and Alvitr. The Emperor of Heavens and his protector White Tiger." the Empress spoke gently, each hand laying on one of the glass capsules. "Alvitr, thank you for protecting my beloved Zheng. I will forever be indebted to you. My sweet child. Alvitr." Beautiful and divine, strong and courageous." her voice trembled softly. "My boyish young lady." her gaze turned to her Emperor. "Qin Shi Huang. The Emperor of China. The King Where It All Began. The First Unifier of China. The Golden Dragon of China. The Eye of Heaven." a few tears escaped softly down her cheeks. "Ying Zheng, my beloved husband, the beautiful boy with the starry skies in his eyes. The love of my life." her tender tears turned into heartbroken sobs. "I am so proud of you. So, so proud. You have always been a true leader for our people, and you were always such a wonderful husband, a partner, a friend. My confidant. My heart. My soul. My everything." though Goll and Brunhilde left, the Emperors whose paths were pathed by Qin Shi Huang were all standing outside the room, watching with heavy hearts, the shattered cry of the Vermillion Bird. "If the tears of the Phoenix could truly heal any wound, I would drown you in my cries and save you. If I could give my life to save you, I would transfer all of your wounds to mine own shell of a body, rip my flesh apart with mine own teeth and claws, and give you all of my blood, just to see you alive once more. My most precious sweetheart." the people watching all began to shed tears. "Just like the Goddess Luo who drowned herself in the river, so will I, out of grief, should you depart from this world before me." for one last time until her beloved would flutter his sparkling eyes open again, Y/N dried her tears and smiled brightly at Ying Zheng and Alvitr. "Hao! Mou mantai! Listen to my voice as I sing for you a beautiful melody. May you have sweet dreams and rest peacefully - And when your strength returns, please, return to me. And if not... The Vermillion Bird will burn to ashes, for the last time."

I want to be your love for ever and ever, Without break or decay. When the hills are all flat, The rivers are all dry. When it thunders in winter, When it snows in summer When heaven and earth mingle, Not till then will I part from you.

Thus, a melody was sung, through the cries of the weeping Vermillion bird, burning bright as the Sun, for her celestial Golden Dragon of Heavens, and the almighty White Tiger, shining silver like the moon.

#record of ragnarok imagine #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #qin shi huang #qin shi huang x reader #qin shi huang imagine #ying zheng #ying zheng x reader #ying zheng imagine #ror #ror x reader #ror imagine #qin shi huang ror

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Ooo hi again hehe

Can I please request a (Endgame never happened au! Everyone lives!au) Bucky x fem!civilian!reader where during his first official mission as an Avenger, he saves a girl who was abducted by the bad guys the Avengers have been trying to stop. When he saves her (and looks hot while doing it), he’s holding her bridal style in his arms as him and the avengers walk out of the bad guys lair, and she’s so scared and relieved at the same time (and also thinks he’s extremely attractive) and she’s thanking him over and over again for saving her, and without thinking she lays a kiss on his lips, freezing against his lips while doing so, eyes wide, before she separates from him and is like ,”ohmygoshimsosorry!!!” Lmao, anyways he’s so shook that he actually saved someone and also shook that someone as pretty as she is wants to kiss him🤧 Anyways, he’s super protective of her after that and checks up on her a lot and they just grow in love for each other 😭 Lots of teasing from Tony, Steve, and Sam lol

I just always think about the adorable shocked look on Bucky’s face when the people were thanking him for saving them in the show🥹🥺

The Kiss » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Civilian!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky saves a girl on his first mission as an Avenger and she kisses him without thinking in a way to thank him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, small injuries, bruises, kissing, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵 also I imagined this with Bucky’s look in Civil War.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

Bucky cautiously entered the base with his gun held up in front of him, watching every direction to make sure no one jumped out at him. He stopped in his tracks when he heard whimpering coming from a room with a lock on the door. He pressed his ear against the door, hearing more whimpers coming from inside of the locked room. Bucky broke the lock off the door with his metal hand and kicked the door down. He cautiously entered the room and seen a woman in the corner of the room.

“Ma’am…” Bucky slowly approached you so he didn’t scare you. “Are you ok?” He asks.

You uncovered your head to see the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. You didn’t say anything. You just stared at him. Bucky put his gun in the holster and crouched down in front of you. You pressed yourself more against the wall.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He assures you. “What’s your name?” He asks.

“Y/N.” You tell him quietly, loud enough for him to hear.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Bucky.” He introduces himself to you. “I’m going to get you out of here. Can you walk?” Bucky asks.

Bucky stood up, holding his hands out for you. You put your hands in his and he pulled you up gently. Your legs felt weak and wobbly. You fell against the front of Bucky’s body.

“I got you.” He says.

Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the room. Your grip on Bucky tightened. You were scared, but also relieved. You’ve been locked in that room for so long that you don’t remember what daylight looks like.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” You say over and over.

“It’s no problem, doll.” Bucky says with a smile.

You leaned in and kissed him, catching Bucky by surprise. You didn’t even realize you were kissing him till a few seconds into the kiss. You froze, leaving your lips on his for a moment.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” You quickly apologized.

“It’s ok.” Bucky says.

Once Bucky got you on the quinjet and comfortable, he was still in shock. When he got you to the med bay at the Avengers Compound, he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. Bucky zoned out for a moment, thinking about someone as pretty as you would want to kiss him.

“Bucky?” Steve says, snapping Bucky out of his trance.

“Huh? What?” Bucky asks, blinking a couple times.

“Are you ok? Looks like you have something on your mind.” He says.

“I-” Bucky cleared his throat before continuing his sentence. “I’m fine.” He says.

Sam and Tony couldn’t help but laugh. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at them.

“Is your mind on the kiss that girl gave you?” Tony asks, grinning.

“Her name is Y/N!” Bucky defends you. “You guys seen her kiss me?” He says.

“So are her knight and shining armor?” Sam asks with a grin.

“He does have a metal arm.” Tony adds.

Bucky rolls his eyes and stood up.

“Buck, c’mon. They’re just teasing you.” Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, I can say I blame her. I’d kiss someone for saving me.” He says teasingly.

Bucky shook Steve’s hand off his shoulder and went to the med bay to check on you. He walked in the room at the same time the doctor was finishing up.

“How is she?” Bucky asks, leaning against the wall.

“For someone who been locked up for a while, she’s doing well. She has a few bruises and a fractured wrist, but she’ll be fine.” The doctor put a wrist brace on your wrist. “I want to check her wrist again in a couple weeks. Other than that, she’s good to go.” The doctor tells him before leaving the room.

The room was filled with awkward silence for a moment before Bucky spoke up.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” Bucky says.

You smiled softly. Bucky helped you off the bed, leaving his arm around your waist. He took you to the room you’re going to be staying in. It’s across the hall from Bucky’s room.

“I’m sure you’re tired. My room is across the hall if you need anything.” Bucky says.

Bucky was about to walk out of the room, but you stopped him.

“Bucky?” You say.

“Yes?” He asks.

“Thank you again.” You say with a smile.

“It’s my pleasure, doll.” He smiles. “Get some rest.” He says and left the room.

Over the next couple weeks, you and Bucky grew closer to each other. You two gotten to know each other. Bucky helped you in every way he could. The Avengers are still teasing Bucky, but he’s ignoring it and focusing on you. As of right now, you’re in the med bay getting your injuries checked out again to make sure they’re healing properly. Your bruises are almost gone, but you have to wear the wrist brace a little longer than you would like.

“Hi, Bucky!” You smiled widely, entering the kitchen of the Avengers Compound.

“Hi, doll.” Bucky smiles. “What did the doctor say?” He asks.

“My injuries are healing properly and I have to wear this wrist brace a little longer.” You informed him.

“I’m happy to hear that. You look great.” He compliments, making you blush.

“Thank you.” You say, still blushing.

“Are you hungry? I was thinking about taking you to that diner I was telling you about.” He says.

“The one in Brooklyn? I would love to go!” You say with a smile.

Bucky held his hand out which you happily held. Bucky being the gentleman he is opened the car door for you. He even opened the door for you at the diner.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Bucky says, trying not to sound awkward.

“About what?” You asked.

“The kiss.” He says.

“Oh…” You chuckled a little. “I’m sorry about that. Please don’t think I’m one of those girls who kisses the first guy she sees. You’re just really attractive and I couldn’t help myself.” You say nervously and continued rambling.

“Doll, you’re rambling.” He says, gently putting his hand on yours.

“Sorry.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He starts. “If I’m being honest, I liked it. I mean, I was surprised that someone as pretty as you would want to kiss me, but I liked it.” He says with a smile.

You smiled back. The waitress brought you guys your food.

“Eat up, doll. You still need to regain your strength.” Bucky says.

You listened and ate almost everything. You and Bucky got back to the Compound at sunset. You went to your room and took a shower and put on comfortable clothes. Then there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” You say loudly.

The door opens, revealing Bucky. You smiled and patted the spot next to you on the bed. Bucky took a seat next to you.

“I just wanted to check on you before you went to bed.” Bucky says.

“I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me.” You say, smiling at him.

Before you knew it, your lips were on his again. Your eyes widened and you pulled away.

“I did it again! I’m so sorry!” You say, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

Bucky uncovered your face and kissed you passionately, catching you off guard.

“I told you earlier that I like it when you kiss me.” He says softly.

Bucky kisses you once’s more before pulling away.

“Stay with me tonight?” You asked, hoping he would say yes.

“Of course.” Bucky smiles.

You two laid down and covered up with the blankets. You laid your head on his chest, your fingers played with his dog tags. His heartbeat soothed you.

“Thank you for saving me.” You say before falling asleep.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, doll.” Bucky says and kissed the top of your head.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #avengers #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #avenger!bucky #civilian!reader

[aphroditeinthesea]

this was a request from @annaizcool44 but i accidentally deleted it when i tried to post it

“ safe in my garden, an ancient flower blooms ”

jason grace x daughter of demeter ⚡️

reader expresses her feelings to the son of zeus through a shared love of books

tw none

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨💐୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“Whatcha reading?” Y/N jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She was sitting on the porch of the Demeter cabin when she noticed the blond approaching her.

She looked up and smiled, “Little Women,” she scooted over for him to sit next to her, “ever read it?”

He shook his head, sitting beside her. He leaned over her shoulder at the page she was on, “what’s it about?”

She felt her ears warm at the closeness, “these four sisters during the Civil War, and their dad’s fighting in the army so they're trying to adjust to their life now… I guess.”

“Can I borrow it sometime?”

Jason heard a knock at his door in the early morning. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he stood up, walking to open it. He found on his doorstep a copy of Little Women with a sticky note on top that read “For Jason, with love Y/N” and he couldn't help but notice the fresh flowers that had sprouted around his cabin.

He smiled and looked around. He saw the girl peering from behind a nearby tree. She turned away, giggling, when he looked her way.

His heart warmed. He stepped back into his cabin and flipped through the pages, he found little notes in the margins and underlined quotes.

For the rest of the day, the book never left his hands. During breakfast, during training, his eyes were glued to the pages.

Just before the campfire, Y/N peeked into his cabin, “Jason?”

She noticed him wipe his eyes, “oh, uh, hey.”

She smiled and walked over to his bed, “Beth?”

He nodded, “yeah. Why would the author write that?”

She bit her lip, “Jase, it’s a true story.”

His eyes widened, “no.”

“Yes.”

Tears began pricked out of his eyes, “that makes it so much worse.”

She sympathetically laughed, wrapping her arms around him. He nuzzled his head into her neck. She couldn't help but smile at how the usual tough guy was now crying in her arms over a book. A book she had gifted him.

He pulled away, “your little note made it better though,” he grinned. He opened the book to the last page he had read, “Jason, when you get here, come to my cabin, I know you’ll need to.”

She laughed, “I think I know you too well.”

He nodded, “I think so.”

“You wanna read Pride and Prejudice?” she asked, “one more sister, happier ending.”

He chuckled, “might as well.”

She showed up to his cabin just before curfew, “the Bennett sisters, Jane, Lizzie, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, search for love in 1813 England,” she announced in a pretend professional voice.

“No scarlet fever?”

She shook her head, “no scarlet fever. Jane gets a cold, but it's nothing serious.”

He hesitantly grabbed the book from her hands, “thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem, Jason, it's nice getting to share these with you.”

“Yeah, it's nice for me, too,” he trailed off, looking away, “I should get to bed.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” she smiled, “goodnight.”

“‘Night,” he replied, closing the door.

“Oh, uh, one more thing.”

He slightly opened the door again, “hm?”

She took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his cheek, “see you in the morning.”

He stuttered, trying to suppress his blush, “yeah- yeah, see you,” he awkwardly smiled, closing the door again.

The next morning she watched him sit at the Zeus table, reading the book. Her heart raced as she knew he was getting closer to the last annotation she had written. She started to regret it, what if he thought the books just made them closer friends? Of course they were friends, she cursed herself for thinking he could see her differently. He glanced up at her, he flashed a smile and a nod her way. She turned pink, looking away.

“Y/N!” the all too familiar voice called to her as she sat by the dock, watching the sunset later that day.

She turned around, “Jason, hi,” she shyly smiled.

He took the spot next to her, handing the book back to her, “I finished the book.”

She nervously looked into his eyes, “and?”

“It was great!” he beamed, “everything about it.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “even the ending?”

“That was the best part.”

“Jason,” she laughed, “did you even read the annotations?”

He squinted his eyes in confusion, “of course I did.”

She opened the book to the back cover. She folded it open and showed it to him. There was written in pink ink, “Will you be the Darcy to my Lizzie?”

“I know it’s cheesy,” she muttered, closing the book and turning away.

“Yes,” he paused, “wait, no. Yes to the question, not to it being cheesy. Well, it is cheesy but it’s cute. You're cute.”

She giggled, “thanks, so are you.”

He held her cheek in his hand, their gazes met before their lips crashed into one another. She placed her hands around his neck as he now held her face with both of his hands. When they pulled away, their foreheads leaned against one another and they could feel the other’s breath against their lips.

The next morning, Jason walked out his cabin to find a field of multicolored roses had encompassed him. He looked around just to find the girl responsible standing in the middle of the flowers, holding a book. He breathily laughed and made his way over to her.

“Here,” she smiled, handing him the book.

He took it, “Mansfield Park?”

“Jane Austen, she wrote Pride and Prejudice, too.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into a kiss, “sounds perfect.”

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #jason grace x you #jason grace x daughter of demeter #demeter #daughter of demeter #child of demeter #cabin 4

[tinyidle]

Let Me Protect You - CSN

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: at a time of chaos, and with you being almost deathly afraid of the dark and what it can bring, you find comfort in your husband. he holds you, kisses you, and unfortunately gets an erection in his loose sweats...

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: san x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: historical fiction; angst; fluff if you can squint; smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: victorian au; married couple

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2 k

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: marking, praise, mutual masturbation, slight overstimulation and edging (not on purpose), sideways position, breeding kink, b!gd!ck san kind of overwhelms reader, unprotected sex (they're married and consenting), aftercare implications, all fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature

𝘈/𝘕: previously i saw a man who said "women don't need to be protected ... we [men] need to stop attacking them." he has a point, but sometimes a woman crave to have a man 'protect' her from the things that she knows she can just put up with. she just wants to be dotted on sometimes. first submission to @wonderlandnet

the village was at war, it was commonplace by now. you knew very well that, when marrying a man who was born to be in battle, you were going to be a soldier's wife; yet you didn't care. it was either him or the arranged marriage your parents set you up with-- a bullet you're always thankful to have dodged.

despite the wars becoming very bloody, with your husband's team getting hit numerous times, san never seemed to get a scratch on him. he is his father's son, you thought as you'd watch the burly-slim-built man perform deadlifts behind your tent every afternoon. no wonder the king appointed him to be the head warrior of the team.

having grown up to hearing sounds of swords drawing, horses furiously neighing, men exclaiming before falling to the ground with a thud, and the hearty cheer of victory on your village's end, you were desensitized to anything and everything. well, almost everything.

every night you would be unfortunately forced to sleep by yourself in the head soldier's tent as san and his men patrolled the camp for any potential enemies. you had an oil lamp burning sweet incense along with melodies from your childhood to keep you company, so you didn't worry much. however, when rain or thunder would roar along the dead night sky, you'd scurry under your covers, very much disliking the loud sounds of nature.

after nearly thirty years of constant battle between the neighboring cities and squatter nations, the village king and the rival leaders signed a peace treaty, calling for no physical fights for up to one hundred years. this treaty was sealed in the thumbprint of their blood, making it a life oath for each affected city. once you heard the news, you were ecstatic. you missed your life back with family in the village, and, although you knew that you wouldn't be able to completely move back there as you and your husband have a house, you were just glad to be able to visit them more.

you and your husband quickly gathered your things and left the soon-to-be vacant camp to travel to the once-vacant house. when you got there and took a look around the area, you immediately went to working on reviving the currently dusty place. san, who was carrying most of the things, helped put them down wherever you said for them to go. once you cleaned and dusted and decorated the house, along with san restocking the food pantry and getting the cooking materials back in their place in their kitchen spots, you two were finally finished refurbishing the old place-- becoming almost brand new again.

with dinner being finished and the two of you talking about your future endeavors with civilization again, you decided to get ready for bed. being the ever-so-sweet gentleman he was taught to be, san held your hand and courted you to the freshly-scented room, the candlelight aiding to the dim ambiance of sleep that settled within yours and his minds.

when you took the first couple bath since your honeymoon, which consisted of san constantly praising you for being the best while washing your back and chest, you both got out and dried off before putting on your night clothes. sleeping on your side, your husband went right behind you, becoming the big spoon for you almost unintentionally. you just felt so warm, he honestly couldn't help himself. san then blew the candlelight out, making you a bit worried, but you thought nothing of it considering you no longer were going to need it.

and then it happened. thunder boomed out of nowhere, along with the sound of the trophy wolves san brought from battle barking furiously at the night. you tried not to jolt, you really did. but when the second booming of thunder came and went, along with the wolves changing their tune from barking to howling, you jerked out of san's slight grasp, finding retreat under the covers you previously washed.

san was awoken by your body leaving his, making him confused. he looked downwards to see if you were okay, and when he saw that you weren't, he asked, "what's wrong? are you scared?"

you did your best to calm yourself, shaking your head as your heart pounded heavily. "no, it's nothing. ill be fine if--" again another sound shook your core, except it was someone loudly shutting the lid of a huge trash bin outside as dogs were now barking and howling in tandem with their gray cousins.

your husband shook his head as he saw your trembling figure through the indent of the cotton, "dear, how long have you had the fear of loud noises?" san slowly traced his hands over the outline of your body before carefully pulling you from the covers and onto his arms, the sheet now covering you chest down instead of your entire self.

"i always hated loud noises at night, but especially from nature. i thought id be over it by now," you pushed your head onto san's neck, your hands finding purchase on his muscular chest as you struggled to breathe properly.

the man wrapped his right arm around your back, pulling you impossibly close to him. for a guy who claims that im always so warm, he feels like a campfire right now, you thought, but had nothing in you to speak out your thoughts as another loud bang from a nearby neighbor racked your senses.

"shh, shh. it's okay, sannie's here," he calmed you down as he felt tears start to stream from down your face to his clavicle. "oh, baby, i wish i knew sooner how the dark's terror made you feel. i would have gotten a different house away from here." your husband rubbed his hands over your back, slowly but surely calming you as your feeling of worry and danger turned to warmth and peace, all thoughts molding into the man who had you in his embrace.

you stopped crying after some time, simply resting your head against san's shoulders and breathing soundly. turning over to sleep in your previous position, you felt something stiff. experimenting with your bottom, you shifted backward a bit before bending forwards, which was met with a not-so-subtle groan. wanting to further test the waters, a third deep breath from the man was taken as your butt nudged against the much-uncomfortable hard-on from san. as you repositioned yourself, your husband reached out to grasp your waist, stopping you from your bottom leaving his crotch area.

"baby, what are you doing?" when you refused to answer, san simply pushed himself towards your backside, making you gasp as you were suddenly surged forward from the slight force of his movement, biting your lip as you remembered exactly who you were married to. "don't make me repeat myself."

not wanting to make him upset, you answered quite timidly, despite your previous confident actions, "i just wanted to play with you, that's all."

san hummed, chuckling a bit at your reply. "okay," he said, one of his hands pulling your night dress up to your waist. before you could think about it, san slithered his hand onto your clad cunt, cupping it with a gentle force that made you gasp. he always had a way of taking your breath away, flustering you befor you'd know it. "is it alright if i play with you?"

you mumbled the words 'yes' in-between heavy breaths, all thoughts now melting into the warmth that resided between your thighs as san began rubbing your wetness through your undergarments. "you're so wet for me, yet all i did was do what you did to me," san quipped. "i guess its only fair for how hard you made me." he continued moving his hand on your covered clit in circles, causing you to whimper lightly as the fabric became more sticky against your folds. "take your panties off," he commanded. you removed your underwear, tossing them to the floor as best as you could without leaving your spot on the bed. you felt your husband shuffle behind you until his hardened length met way to your thigh in all its bare glory.

turning around, you stopped san from doing anything more. when he pulled his head up to ask what the problem was, you asked with a small smile on your face, "can i help you out a little more while you help me?" without saying a word, san guided your hand to his length as his other hand went back to its previous place on your core. this only caused your smile to grow bigger. as soon as you started stroking him, which caused his member to become harder and bigger than it already was, san let out a guttural moan.

"gosh, you're so good," san grunted, pushing his hips slightly closer to you as his fingers now pressed inside you, curling his fingers to your spot. your mouth dropped open as you tried your best to concentrate on pleasuring him.

in no time at all, you could tell the man was getting even hornier as you began to climax from his motions. pausing for a moment to catch your breath, you grabbed san by the neck and passionately kissed him. he could only groan in your mouth as your walls furiously clenched on his fingers still inside of you as you were smearing his precum around his now burning head.

pulling away from you completely, your husband turned you around to how you were before, your bottom stuck out for his viewing pleasure. you whined from the loss as san your side for a while, tracing your body line down to the curve of your hip before slotting his hand between your thigh, slightly raising it. "ready?"

you smiled, nodding your head quickly as you stared at the soft linen of the matress.

smiling from behind you, yet you could feel it, san held himself to your slightly pulsating hole and slowly pushed his head in. you slightly jolted, but relaxed as you heard san's small praises of how fortunate he was to have you and how well you were taking so little of him. using the hand he was using earlier to push the start of him in, he then gripped the side of your ass before slowly thrusting the rest of himself in. you were whimpering from the tremendous stretch, his fingers seeming to not prepare for what you haven't had since he was called to serve.

wrapping his arms around you again, san wiped away the stray tears-- wait, you were crying?-- he knows you were shedding. "i know, i know dear." he soothed you, helping you to untense for both you and his sakes. you because you were obviously overwhelmed from the size of your husband, and san because your tightness almost made him orgasm like a prepubescent teen. getting himself together for you, san held onto you sides as he did his best to pepper kisses on your face. "let me love you, now." when you finally started to, you sighed in content as you pulled his hand up to kiss.

"thank you, sannie."

kissing your cheek in return, he held his place inside you and slowly began to pump into you; just the amount of speed needed to calm downyour shaking. your sighing from discomfort soon turned to moaning from pleasure. feeling the bliss of your husband's length in you, you jutted your hips back more, allowing the view of your ass be a signal that you were definitely feeling good right now. feeling encouraged, san sped up, driving himself deeper into you. his fingers dug into your inner thigh as his motions grew rougher and more passionate.

"fuck, sannie. im about to cum," you breathed out, feeling so close yet so far to your release.

putting his freer hand to your clit, he rubbed it in circular motions, high pitch whines coming out of you in return. "cum for me, my love. make a big, filthy mess on my cock. can't wait to always have you like this until you can barely think without having my cum in you."

your moans grew louder as your thoughts began to change to ones of having your stomach filled to the brim of san's love.

with one harsh thrust into you, your release hit your core, a splattering sensation running down your leg as he kept fucking into you. despite becoming quickly overstimulated, you didn't dare stop san from using you to his completion. "please, sannie," you cried, doing the best you can to get him closer through clenching. "please cum inside me. i need it to feel warm."

the image of his imprint leaking out of you flashed through his mind, quickly causing him to snap. with a tight squeeze at his enlarged length, he let out a grunt before he unloaded his seed into you, moaning in pleasure and relief as he did so. his thrusts grew shorter as he came less and less, holding onto you and kissing all over the parts of your face and neck he could reach. "i hope that wasn't too... intense for you," he apologized once his heart rate settled down.

you turned your head to san before slowly pulling yourself out of him with a hiss, looking at him as your hole pulsed in an attempt to return to its previous size. "'too intense?'" you quoted him. "why would it be?" your hand was gently touching your husband's face as he kissed it anytime it reached his lips. "it felt amazing." san, feeling assured by your words, leaned in to give you a tender kiss on the lips.

"im happy that you feel safe with me," san yawned after hesitantly pulling back, stretching before wrapping his arms around your waist as your aftershocks were coming down to an end. "i love you."

smiling at him and kissing his lips once more, you replied back to him. "i love you, and im always safe with you."

this is my first san fic. crazy right? and it only took one dance performance to awaken something in me. oh, the photo in the middle with the moon? i took that picture two weeks ago after getting off work.

#ateez smut #san smut #wonderlandnet

[sanzaibian]

I am Chris Albanese. Self-made billionaire, ravenous businessman and pussyhunter.

I am the best businessman to ever exist, the world basically belongs to me. If someone doesn’t act like I want them to, I can pay them off, pay someone to off them, or do it the old fashion way by wielding my fists.

You see, I used to be a sportsman. A boxer, to be precise. However, unlike my dimwitted adversaries, I knew how to use that to my advantage. I used sports as a way to gain some quick bucks and gain fame, and when finally a business venture extracting lithium in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, I jumped on it and finally ended that dumb career hitting people for other’s excitement.

However, it’s not as if everything was smooth sailing…

Today was a very bad day. It started with a demonstration in front of my building, with those wokes saying that I am complacent in the bloody civil war in the DRC. I mean, I don’t care about those Congolese, I’m just extracting lithium and selling it at high prices ! Those wokes will always find a reason to hate hard-working people.

But after that, I got complaints that my employees are over-worked and under-payed, and that they threaten a strike ! I fired a few of those so it’s okay, but then I get told that the shareholders believe that I don’t take enough advantage of the electric vehicle boom, and that my management is unsatisfactory ! Don’t they understand that those “green politics” will just explode on their faces and that I’ll have to pay for “mismanagement” ? Those fuckers…

When I get home, I decide to call my pussy... I mean, my third wife, but let’s call things what they really are. I need to unwind a bit, after all.

When she comes to my penthouse, she goes off on me about how she was busy, and how I just call her when I want her but I’m never here when she wants me. Women, am I right ? So I just shut her up with a new Gucci bag, and start undressing. She watches me as I undo the buttons of my suit, revealing the manly coat of hair I possess. But as I fling my top across to the couch, she dares to tell me :

“You know, Chris, you gained a bit of weight since the last time we had fun… You should really start working out again, you know, like when you actually did sports.”

Although she was telling me that with a look of concern and of lust, my anger was so built up since the beginning of the day that I just went off on her.

“What, do you want me to be a moron that can only punch others ? That is better than the piece of hotness you have in front of you ? I’m rich, I’m powerful, I’m the best person in all of humankind, and this is what you tell me ? That I should be ‘taking care of myself’ ? I’m taking care of myself just fine !

- Chris, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I’m just worried for you…” I cut her.

- You wretched woman, don’t say lies, I know you’re just not happy with hunting just one guy ! You sluts are all the same ! You come here saying ‘oh no, I’m so busy buying clothes’ and ‘you should work out and do everything I say’ and expect me to do nothing ? To listen to your orders ? I’m fucking Chris Albanese ! The best man on Earth ! You fucking greedy slut, you’re fired !”

She looked at me with weird eyes, as if I said something that didn’t make sense.

“You… fire... me ? You- You know I’m your wife, not your employee !”

She looked at me with pleading eyes, trying to seduce me out of firing me. Sluts are all the same, I tell you !

“Well, you’ve heard me nice and clear, you’re fired ! And never dare cross my path again, else I sue you for harassment !”

Utterly bewildered, she took her things – including her new bag, that greedy bastard – and started going, when she told me, with a shaky voice :

“You’re going to regret this, Chris !”

And then, she slammed the door. Good riddance, I think, but that doesn’t get rid of my tension.

After scratching my head for a small while, I decide that the best course of action is to offer her the possibility to buy her position back with “actions”. Smiling, I go to the door to announce to her the good news, when I suddenly get a headache.

I stumble and take support on the kitchen counter. Where did that come from ? My head feels so bad, it might as well be about to explode ! What was I thinking about ? Yeah, something about a person I needed to meet with… but whom ?

Another ache, this time on my stomach. As I breathe in, I feel something working in my stomach, and as I breath out, I have the impression that my stomach goes farther than it used to.

It continues for a while as another ache, this time in my legs, hits. I feel weird cramps in them, as if I had just done leg day and was suffering through its consequences. I fall down harder, not able to support myself on my legs, but am able to break the fall with my arms.

Just as I do that, I feel my arms get those similar cramps, and I just fall flat, aching everywhere. As my eyes are on the same level as the floor, I notice that it seems a bit dirty. Has my maid not done a good job ? She’s fired ! ...

… Who’s fired ? I can’t quite remember… Ugh… I should really clean my floor, it’s so very dirty, a ton of dust, and a ton of sweat…

Sweat ? I look down at my expensive suit pants, and only find sweaty sweatpants… and hairless abs. They’re also quite sweaty… Yeah, makes sense, since I was working out just now ! … … What ?

I stand back up. What has just happened ? I don’t work out anymore, yet I’m convinced that I just finished working out. Plus I have the biggest headache, like I’m forgetting something important…

I pace around, my body aching less and less, and feeling more and more pumped up. I also feel my hairless face and body… I feel as if I’m missing something very important. Then, suddenly, it jumps out to me.

The coach ! I’m late for my next match !

I run through my dingy flat to take a track suit and run to the boxing club. On the way there, I feel as if something is intensely wrong. As if I’m not supposed to be in the boxing club, as if I’m not supposed to be in a dingy flat, as if I’m not supposed to be in a good shape… yet I can’t quite put my finger on it, still having that headache preventing me from thinking normally.

When I arrive, coach berates me as he leads me to the locker room to prepare myself. When I’m ready, I go to face off against my adversary.

When I enter the ring, young women cry of joy, and between them, I see a very beautiful one that seems weirdly familiar… but she’s not really my type, she’s too old for little young me.

Me and my adversary fight for a while until I’m put K.O., and as the referee starts counting. But as I try all I might to get up, I see my adversary on top of me, acting all dominantly. And then the most surreal thing happens.

I get a hard-on.

#male transformation #male tf #daddy to jock #jock tf #age reduction #dumber tf #straight to bi #straight to gay #transformation #tf story

[gingiesworld]

Old Flames

Civil War Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings : Smut. Reader has a penis. Breeding.

Requested by @ginnsbaker

18+ MINORS DNI

"Forever."

"And always."

After the battle at the airport, Vision tried to help get Wanda free from the Raft. Tony could see that the synthezoid was evolving, he was feeling more human with each passing moment. What Tony had never expected was the news he recieved when he arrived at the Raft.

"Wanda Maximoff was broken free last night." Secretary Ross informed him. "You wouldn't have anything to do with it now?"

"No." Tony told him firmly. "As much as I feel horrible with her being here, I wouldn't go back on the Accords."

"The power went down. The cameras were hacked." Secretary Ross stated. "The only person that came to mind with that was you."

"I can assure you. It wasn't me." Tony stated. "You can search the compound and every one of my safe houses but I assure you it wasn't me."

Wanda soon woke up in a dimly lit room, her eyes darting around the room. She wasn't in the restraints she was put in when she was in the Raft. She was just in her suit.

"You know, when I heard your name on the news after the incident. I just couldn't believe you were still alive." She watched as a figure emerged from the doorway.

"Who are you?" She asked, her accent thick.

"I'm hurt that you don't recognise my voice." They spoke, feigning hurt. "After all, you were the one who said always."

"You were dead." Wanda whispered as Y/N chuckled.

"That is what Strucker told you." Y/N stated as they took a seat on the bed beside her. "I was transferred. After they realised our bond. Our relationship, they used it as leverage for their own gain." Wanda remained silent as they spoke. "They told me that you had lost the baby."

"What baby?" Wanda questioned. She remembered their nights spent together, but she was never pregnant.

"They were the ones who told me you were pregnant, and when you miscarried. They told me that you never wanted to see me again." They told her.

"Y/N, you were the only one I ever cared about. Why would I hate you?" Wanda questioned as Y/N shrugged.

"I wanted to have a family with you Wanda." They whispered, they had flicked on the light. Wanda gasped as she saw the once warm blue eyes she fell in love with. "I always did, since we were little."

"Y/N, we're completely different people now." She whispered as they took her hand in theirs. Playing with the many rings on her fingers.

"You will always be the same Wanda to me." They whispered as she shook her head.

"Y/N, we don't know each other anymore." Wanda tried as Y/N shook their head and cupped her cheek.

"You are just a little different." They whispered as their thumb brushed against her bottom lip. "But I bet I remember all of the things that make you squirm." Wanda sighed when they pressed their lips against her own, almost getting lost in the feeling.

"I can't." Wanda whispered as she pulled away.

"You can Wanda." They told her as she shook her head.

"I have Vision." She told them as they smiled at her.

"I understand your powers may be different but it will be ok. This is meant to be. We are meant to be." They told her as they brushed her hair from her face.

"No. Vision has nothing to do with my powers." Wanda whispered as her heart pounded in her chest as Y/N untied her corset. "He is my uh, well I'm not quite sure what we are."

"You're mine Wanda." Y/N told her sternly. "You belong to me, and me alone." Wanda sighed when she felt their lips on her skin as they removed her top. Their hands softly grazing her skin. Remembering the way her skin reacted to their touch.

Wanda moaned as they wrapped their lips around her nipple. Wanda's hand went to the back of their head. Keeping them in place as they continued to suck on the hardened bud.

"Fuck." Wanda moaned lewdly when Y/N's fingers made their way beneath her pants and underwear. Thrusting slowly into her soaked core.

"We have to find her Mr Stark." Vision urged as Tony sighed.

"I have been looking for days Vision." He told him. "I haven't found a single trace of Wanda or the person who broke her out."

"What about Steve?" He questioned as Tony sighed.

"He only got there a couple of days ago. I already questioned him in Siberia." Tony informed him. "He knows nothing of Wanda's whereabouts."

"I don't know what this is that I am feeling Mr Stark but my calculations tell me it's love." Vision told him. "I can feel more with each day that passes."

"I understand that Vision." Tony sighed. "I am looking everywhere."

Y/N was thrusting inside her at a steady pace, the two sharing a kiss before Y/N looked in Wanda's eyes.

"I can't wait to breed you Wanda." They husked out. "Have the family we always talked about."

"Please." Wanda begged as she scratched down their back. "I need it. I need you. All of you."

Y/N grunted as they went faster and harder. Wanda reaching her third orgasm as Y/N reached their own releasing inside of her before they brushed the hair from her face. Watching as she caught her breath.

"I love you Wanda. Forever." They whispered.

"I love you Y/N. Always." She leaned up and kissed their lips lovingly. All of their feelings coming back in full force. The two old flames back together. Burning brighter together than they were when they were apart.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #elizabeth olsen #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you

[scar-lie]

You’re Mine [Scarlett]

Summary : Scarlett got jealous over Tom Hiddleston

Pairing : Scarlett Johansson x Actress ! Fem ! Reader

Warning : Curse, unprotected sex, cock warming, rough sex, praise kink, creampie

Word count : 1,877

ORIGINALLY POSTED IN WATTPAD

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it let me know.

We're here on the set of Civil War. Well, it's 1 a.m., and here we are outside talking around a bonfire, eating marshmallows, and just asking one another

I'm sitting besides Scar, my girlfriend of 3 years now. We sit in a love seat, and my legs are on top of hers. Her right arm was behind my neck, making it like my pillow, and her left hand was in my inner thigh.

Me, Scar, RDJ, Hemsworth, Evans, Lizzie, Anthony, Sebastian, Jeremy, Paul, and Hiddleston, who visited us and decided to stay the night here, and the others are already asleep in their trailer.

"Ok... Ok Y/N," RDJ said, and look at me. I hum.

"So who's the best kisser and sex you have besides Scarlett?" I look at Scar, who was eyeing all of them, giggling. I'm not sure if I should tell her because things can escalate pretty quickly.

Then I see Lizzie, Anthony, and Paul whispering while giggling. Oh no, they're probably thinking this will be a long night for me and Scar.

"I don't think it's appropriate to talk about it," I say, going even closer to Scar and putting my right arms around her waist, then kissing her neck.

"Oh, come on, it's not like Scar will kill them," Robert teases.

"Yeah, it's just a little game; come on," Anthony says, and I roll my eyes at them.

After some time, they started bugging me. I got irritated and sat up straight.

"FINE. FINE!" I yell frustratedly, then I look at Scar, then at Tom, and I sigh deeply.

"It's Tom," I whisper enough for me to hear, well me and Tom got together 6 years ago; we've been dating for over, like, 6 or 7 years; he's one of my greatest loves, what can I say? He's charming, kind, thoughtful, and everything good; even in bed, he's the second best. Of course, Scar is the best in the bedroom; she makes me feel so good that I've never felt it before.

He's the last ex I have, and after him, 1 year later, Scar courted me, and she spent 2 years earning my yes to be her girlfriend. Why did she spend two years courting me? Well, let's just say that after Tom, I have trouble trusting anyone who likes me, so it takes time to say yes.

"What? Louder Y/N, we can't hear you," Hemsworth said, and I closed my eyes tightly and sighed deeply.

"Tom Hiddleston, ok?" I say louder for them to hear and look at Tom.

Then I heard a loud 'ohh. Then I could feel that Scar are getting jealous, so I broke eye contact with Tom.

"So Tom was good in bed, huh?" Anthony teases, so I just nod, then another 'oohh' again.

"Is he rough? Probably yes! Duh, and probably a Daddy vibe." Robert teases and wiggles his eyebrows looking at me, so I just giggle and roll my eyes at him.

"Robert's right; I'm probably rocking your world," Evans teases and winks at me. I just roll my eyes, and then the teasing goes on until Scar gets involved too, saying that if she can rock my world, Tom can do it too.

So I snuggled up to her; she didn't say a single word this whole teasing time. Feeling her jealousy, her jaw was clenching tightly, so I buried my face in her neck and hugged her, then kissed her neck.

"I love you so much," I whisper, only for her to hear. One last tease, and Scar is already beyond her limits.

She just stood up, put me over her shoulder, and just walked off. I looked at them, and they were winking and thumbing up at me.

"You're welcome," Robert mouthed to me, giving me a thumbs up. I just put my middle finger up for him, and they all chuckled.

Scar, go to her trailer, lock the door, go to the bedroom, and throw me on the bed.

"Sca-" I got cut off when she kissed me aggressively, but I melted to it and kissed her back.

She sat up and tore my shirt off, which made me moan and bite my lips. I saw her bulge, so I touched it but got stopped immediately.

"You don't get to touch me, slut." She husked in my ears and grabbed my both wrists and took a silk rope from her nightstand, then tied it in the bedpost.

"Sca-" I got cut off again by her.

"That's not my name, slut." Then she tied it tightly, but not so tight that it could hurt me.

"Sorry, Mommy," I correct myself, that she smirked, then she tore my PJ pants, which left me with a navy blue lace lingerie set.

"I don't like how you acted minutes ago," She whispered seductively in my ears while she was teasing my folds through my thin fabric underwear.

"Is Tom your best sex mate?" she asks, then rips my underwear, which makes me moan.

"N-no..Mommy." Then she started to circle and put pressure on my clit

"Is he that good in bed, slut, huh?" then she starts to suck on my sweet spot, which makes me gasp and throw my head back, tugging the rope.

"Mo-mommy...." I moan loudly, and she sits up, which makes me whine.

"You're too loud, baby." Then she took my ripped underwear and put it in my mouth.

"You look so beautiful like this slut," she said, then tore my bra too and started to suck my tits.

"Mmmmhhh," I moan, arching my back and chest.

"Are you going to be a good girl?" she husked, reaching into her nightstand, then pulling out a vibrator.

"Mmmmhhh," I moan, and then I hear a vibrating sound that makes me moan.

"Mmhh, I'll take that as a no for an answer." She smirks, then continues sucking my breast, then puts the vibrator on my clitoral area, which makes me squirm.

"Mo-momny..mmhh, please." I moan, the words muffled, and tug the ropes, wanting to touch her.

"Look at you, so desperate to touch me, huh?" Then she went lower and lower until she came face to face with my center.

"Mmmhhh, please, Mommy. Please fuck me." I'm begging, but it's all come out muffled because of the fabric in my mouth. Then I arch my hip towards the vibrator, and she slaps my inner thigh.

"Stay," She growled, so I tried my hardest not to buckle my hips.

"Good girl." She praises me, and she blows an air in my clitoral area that makes me throw my head back.

"AAHH!" I moan, wanting her to just fuck the shit out of me, then she starts to lick me.

"Mmhh, so sweet." Then she put three fingers in me, which made me moan louder and arch my back further.

"So wet for Mommy." Then she started to speed up to an inhuman speed that left me panting.

"Such a good girl for mommy, aren't you, slut?" She took off the vibrator, to be replaced by her mouth sucking it hard.

"AAAHGGHHHHHH!" I'm screaming at this point, and she continued her assault, destroying my pussy

"I'm so close; I'm clenching around her fingers, and when I'm near cumming, she suddenly pulls out and takes her mouth off of my clitoral area, which makes me whine.

"Mmmhhh," I whine, and she slaps my pussy, which makes me jolt up, pleasure rushing through my body.

AAAHHMMMMM," I moan, and she teases my folds.

"You think you can cum that easily, slut? Oh, Mommy has many plans for you." She smirks at me and starts to edge me again, leaving me so desperate to cum.

She did that for like 30 minutes, and the fabric in my mouth was long gone minutes ago, and now she was pumping in and out a fake dildo in me.

"Please........please Mommy, let me cum please, I-I'm sorry......aaahhhhh fu-fuck........ Yo-you're the best of....fu-fuck, the best, please Mommy" I'm gripping the rope tightly, knuckles go white, while I throw my head back and my legs are shaking wanting to cum

"Is that so, slut?" Then again she pulled out, leaving me on the edge.

"Mmhh, yes, Mommy, please........ I-I need you-your.....fat cock inside me, filling me up with your warm seed. Please, Mommy." I moan, bucking my hips to nothing, finding some friction to pleasure me.

"Such a slut for me." Then she suddenly trusted in me instantly, then pulled all the way out. That makes me whine.

"Mmmhhhh, please, please mommy, fuck me. Fuck me senseless, please." I'm rolling my hips to reach out for her, and she chuckled.

"So desperate for Mommy, huh?......" Then she put both legs together on her left shoulder, holding it tight.

"I'm going to fuck you real good; I'm going to destroy this beautiful little cunt of yours." Then she trusted hard and faster, making me moan loudly and grip the head board tightly.

"You. Are. Mine. Slut. Mine," She said with a hard trust, and I didn't say anything or moan because of the pleasure I'm receiving; only our skin slapping can be heard all over the room.

"Not. Tom. Not your exes. Nor anyone. You. Are. Mine," She said, and I was a moaning mess under her.

"I'll make you remember it, slut." My legs are shaking, wanting to cum. I'm so close that I'm clenching around her length, which makes her groan.

"Aaahh. I'm go-gonna cum. Please, Mommy, let me cum." She fastened her pace so much that I thought the bed would break.

"Hold it, slut, you don't get to cum without my permission." She's now jackhammering me, which made me squirm, throw my head back, and acrh my chest.

"AAAHHHHHH, I-I... CAN'T HOLD IT!" I scream, and I know she's close too because of her speed and her member twitching inside me.

"Hold it," She demanded, so I kept holding my orgasm until she's chasing her orgasm.

"Cum." With that one word, I cum hard on her, which makes my cum drip down to her balls and thighs to make a wet patch in the bed, and my cum drips down to my ass hole and butt going to the sheet, creating a wet patch too.

With that, she trusted hard and cummed all over inside me. She kept trusting hard, twitching her member inside me while she shot her warm seed inside me.

"AAAAHHHHHH....FUCK!" I scream with her, and she slows down her trusting to help us from our high.

We were panting while she's still trusting, and she dropped my legs down, and she stopped trusting, looking down to see her dick still deep inside me. That made her moan, and she slumbed down in front of me.

Both of our bodies are covered in our own sweat, but we couldn't care less; we're still panting and recovering from our high.

Then she turned us over, so I'm now on top of her, and she buried my face in her chest.

"I want you to cock warm me, sleep baby." And she kissed my head, and I hummed, tired from our hot session.

"I love you so much," She whispers, hovering over my lips, so I smile and peck her lips.

"I love you more," She chuckled, drawing shapes on my back and playing with my hair.

"Not possible, love." We both giggle until she sings me a lullaby that I love the most.

In just a few minutes, I fall asleep with her, happy and content with who we are and what we have right now!

#Scarlett Johansson #scarlett johansson fanfiction #scarlett johansson fanfic #scarlett x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #Elizabeth Olsen #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson