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nightingalescall · 3 months

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God's Perfect Lamb

Kingdom of Ebreau:

Prologue(you are here)|part 1|part 2

"OH MY GOD!!!!!"

You screamed as you free fell from the sky. The wind whistled pass you, whipping your hair and slapping your cheeks until they stung. You flailed about, thrashing your arms and legs in the air, desperately hoping to slow your descend into inevitable doom.

This day could not get any weirder. You thought the day when you got transmigrated into this world took first place in that department but fate took that as a challenge and proceeded to completely and utterly prove you wrong. The day you got here, at least you were safely lying in an open field on the outskirts of the city, unlike now where you were falling to your death from the sky.

You had endured a great amount of hardship during your stay in this world. You know all those stories about someone getting transmigrated into a parallel world as a noble or wealthy merchant or maybe even a royal? Well, you didn't get that privilege. You weren't placed into the body of a princess, a duchess, a countess or.....anybody, to be honest. You were just you. Plain old (y/n). So the idea living a life of luxury and comfort was thrown straight out the window at that revelation. You had nothing with you. No money, no property, no status. You had to start from the ground up if you have wanted to survive in this new world.

But that wasn't the biggest problem. By "nothing", that includes having no form of identification. You're not sure if it's just a subject of it never being brought up in those novels or if identification just wasn't a thing in those world, but in this one, it was a serious issue.

Having neither a place to stay nor enough money to buy one, you were forced onto the streets until you had the finances to own one. So it wasn't unexpected when the authorities took notice of you and brought you to their headquarters to give you necessary aid. It was all going well until they found out they had absolutely no record on you in their database. That's when they became hostile and grilled you to no end.

You couldn't just say you were from another universe and you had no information to based any lies on so many of their question were met with a silent stare or a soft "um".

In the end, they decided to label you a person of interest and should be kept under surveillance since they had no dirt on you to convict or pardon any crimes you may have potentially committed (even though you didn't). You were both relieved and surprised at the conclusion they came to since even you, yourself were convinced they were going to throw you in jail.

With no charges pressed on you, you were free to go. But where though? You were still homeless, jobless and penniless. Pitying you, they ended up giving you the help they initially planned on giving. They gave you a job.

And that's how you ended up as their errand girl. Any trivial or simple matters such as relaying messages to guards, sending documents to scribes and then retrieving them, delivering packages to and from the headquarters etc etc. It was an easy job so the low pay wasn't a surprise. It was barely enough for the small house you rented a few blocks away from headquarters. However, you were given food and allowed to eat with the guards at headquarters everyday as long as you remained their errand girl so that saves you the money and worry of getting enough to eat. It was a win-win situation for both parties. You get a job and the guards can always keep on eye on you. Thus, even with little to no money to your name, you settled into your new life in this world.

It's been more than a year since your transmigration and to be honest..... You were sick of this place. Remember the aforementioned win-win situation? Yeah, that was only in the beginning. As time went on and your suspicion has pretty much been cleared up, you were still stuck with doing this minimum wage job (if that was even a concept in this world). Just because you were getting by with this job doesn't mean you were happy with it. You only had enough for daily necessities. It's already been a long time since you've arrived here and you had not once enjoyed any type of indulgence in that time gap. Just work, work, work. Those damned guards keep saying you still need to be under surveillance but you knew well that they were just trying to keep you around to do their bidding. Honestly, what kind of guard lets a potential fugitive into their room to get something for them? You knew they trusted you. That's why they wanted you to stay as their little helper.

So here you are now. In the middle of the night, on your way back to headquarters after helping deliver a package to the biggest temple in the country, the Temple of Sonnet. This world, or at least Ebreau in particular, was a country of strong faith. They are a religious country where every citizen worshiped Calerus. Though his title may vary from person to person, it’s always some form of wealth and gold so most people call him the God of Prosperity.

With religion being such as important part of the kingdom, it wasn't surprising when you found out the temple worked in close relation with the imperial palace. The Royal family of Ebreau collaborated with the Temple of Sonnet in both political and cultural aspect. Organising nationwide celebrations, meeting with diplomats from afar, anything that are related to the affairs of the country, chances are both parties are involved. Basically, you mess with the temple, you mess with the Royal family. So definitely not someplace you like hanging about at, lest you want to accidentally offend someone and get a ticket straight to getting-your-head-chopped-off town.

The cold breeze of the night sent shivers down your spine as it blew into your thin clothing. You rubbed your hands together, desperately trying to warm them up but to no avail. You scurried through the courtyard quickly, making your way back to the entrance of the temple. It was relatively silent, saved for your footsteps and the distant sound of flowing water from a fountain somewhere.

Thankfully, the walk was a short one. Reaching the opened gate of the entrance, you walked past the two statues of Calerus at each side of the gate and out back onto the familiar cobble walkway. You snuck a few glances at the white statues of the god of this kingdom as you passed by.

Even in the dim moonlight, you could see the white marble eyes of the statue staring down at you, its mouth curved downward as both hands were outstretched to the side with white round discs made to look like gold coins pouring out of its hands and onto the base of the statue.

This was how the people of Ebreau depicted their God. Sharp eyes casted downwards, overseeing and observing their every move, his hands overflowing with gold, symbolising his absolute authority over the wealth in the land.

You stood, staring at the statue as you were reminded of the saying of the people.

Calerus, the prosperous.

Calerus, the strategist.

Calerus, the omnipresent.

Calerus, the all knowing.

Calerus, the god of Ebreau.

"All is within his hand. Follow his plan and golden rain shall pour at your journey's end."

...

"Tch."

You clicked your tongue as you turned away abruptly from the statue and continued on your way back. A look of disdain plastered on your face as you marched off from the temple.

The more you thought about how worshiped Calerus was and how many praises the people sang for him, the more angry you got. You weren't jealous. No, you weren't some narcissist with a god complex who wanted this sort of treatment. Of course not. What you were pissed about was how Ebreauans talk about how everything in life was Calerus' work. His plan, so to speak that allowed you to prosper and succeed. They claim that all challenges are obstacles on a path towards prosperity that Calerus has specifically chosen for someone.

"Everything has a purpose and meaning."

Well, personally, you though it was pretty nonsense.

If this god of theirs was so smart and crafty, if everything truly happened according to his plan then why the heck were you here? Why were you here in this fantasty world? What purpose did He bring you here for? And why has that "purpose" not shown itself even after you've been thrown here for almost 2 years?!?!

In your mind, Calerus is nothing but a liar and a fraud. Where's the prosperity He promised? What did He have planned? Did He even have anything planned??

You were angry and with good reasons. The people you've met here have been telling you that Calerus has something planned for you even if you're not from Ebreau since day one. They assured you that He will look over you, even if you're not a follower. Yet, you've been met with nothing but problems and hardships during your stay here. And worse, you don't see it ever becoming better.

"What a scam."

You mumbled under your breath and scoffed.

"Ugh..Huh?"

You groaned softly as you suddenly felt lightheaded. You legs got weak and you began to wobble, stumbling forward a few steps. You pressed your hand to you head, applying pressure to both of your temples. Nausea seizes your body as you gagged.

"Huhg..!"

The world spun around you and the ground below your feet felt like it disappeared as you lost your footing. You fell forward and braced for impact.

But it never came.

...?

You slowly regain control as the short-lived dizziness subsides. The disorientation passes and you now realised the odd position you're in. You're...Floating? Your face was hovering several inches away from the ground despite your hands not supporting your upper body. And when did the streets of Ebreau get so....White and fluffy? In fact, they looked like cloud-

"Heretic."

A deep voice suddenly rumbled in your ears and your head shot up. A man with shoulder length grey hair stood before you, his golden eyes piercing into your soul as he spoke with authority. He donned black robes that exposed only his left arm and part of his chest. Golden streaks also lined themselves along the right sleeves and tails of the robe. He seemed.... Ethereal. Godly even.

Wait....Godly?

"C-calerus?”

You stuttered in fear and disbelief.

“One did not expect to be recognised by thou so quickly. Peculiar for a non believer."

Calerus suddenly lifted his right hand and flicked two of his fingers upwards. That's when you felt a force tugged you up from behind and you hung in midair in front of the god.

"Uwah!" You yelped at the sudden yank. Before you could even recompose yourself, Calerus continued speaking again.

"And to not posses any ounce of humility. Calling one by mine name. Who does thou think thou art?"

You felt a force wrap itself around your neck before squeezing. You gasped and grasped at the invisible force, desperate for it to let go or at least loosen. You choked.

"cough! Stop! P-cough!"

You pleaded as you gasped for air.

"Why would one do that?"

You continued to cough as the force squeezed tighter. You were gonna die. Oh god, you were gonna die. In panic, you blurted out whatever came to mind.

"Because, cough, you still, gasp, owe me!!"

The grip around your neck disappeared and you fell onto the soft ground (if it even was ground). You gasped and coughed. Your lungs greedily sucking in air now that your airways were opened again. That relief was short-lived however as the next moment, you felt a hand grabbed onto your jaw and forced your gaze up.

Calerus stared coldly into your eyes as he spoke.

"Elaborate."

You panicked. You just said that on a whim. Surely, you weren't actually going to ask for compensation from a god....right? There was no way you were going to pull though with what you just said.

The fire inside Calerus' golden eyes told you to do so otherwise, though. You swallowed before slowly speaking.

"You....You brought me here. Why? Why separate me from my family? Why separate me from my friends?"

Calerus raised an eyebrow.

"Bring thou here? To punish thee, of course. Thou spoke ill of mine name."

You shook your head.

"No. I meant, bring me to this world. To Ebreau. What reason do you have?"

Calerus fell silent. He seemed to be lost in thought. You waited agonisingly long before he spoke.

"So it is thou. Thou art the otherworldly traveler, yes?"

Otherworldly? Yes. Traveler? No. Kidnapping victim would be more accurate. Though, you simply nod at his question. It was close enough, you suppose.

He released you jaw and backed away. His gaze blank and devoid of emotion as he raised his hand again. You felt a soft tug this time and you were gently helped up onto your feet.

It..Worked?

Calerus sighed before saying,"It would indeed seem one has forgotten about thy needs after thou came to mine kingdom."

Your eyes widen in surprise at his confession

"One will give thee the compensation thou deserves."

"Wait, really?" You couldn't hold back your astonishment.

Calerus stayed quiet as you asked and you felt cold sweat rolled down your face, thinking your question may have angered him.

His gaze went down onto the ground for a brief moment before flicking back up to you.

"Yes. However, know that one was not the being that brought thee to this land."

You tilted your head. "You're not?"

"No. One merely accepted thy visit to mine kingdom."

"Then...Who did?" You asked, the words rolling off your tongue slowly

"Mine....Equal. A ruler of another land far from mine."

Your head was spinning from this revelation. Some other god brought you here? Why? And why let you stay under another god's rule? Before you could ask, Calerus had began to speak again.

"One is not enlightened with the reason why thou has been brought here but one admits fault for neglecting thee after accepting thee as one's own. As such..."

Calerus stepped forward, his steps firm and steady. He raised his right hand to his mouth before biting his index finger. A small wound appeared on his skin and you saw golden blood begin to seep out from the opening. He stretched out his right arm as he made his way towards you.

"W-what are you doing?" You fumbled over your words as you backed away in horror, clutching your hands over your chest.

But Calerus was faster.

In the blink of an eye, he was already in front of you, finger pressing on your forehead. You felt the warm liquid dripping down your forehead as your eyes opened wide in fear, terrified at what he was going to do to you.

He began to chant.

"Might of the northern spirit, wisdom of the southern dragon, divinity of the elements of the east and west, hear one."

You wanted to pull away from his hand but be it fear or some other unknown force, you couldn't as you stayed rooted in place, breathing heavily from anxiety. If the god before you noticed your petrified state, he surely paid it no mind as he continued.

"Let the earth know that the power of gold shall have a vessel to call its own. Let the people rejoice for a vassal of Calerus, the Prosperous Lord shall walk among them. May the world celebrate the birth of mine lamb."

His finger left your forehead for a split second before it came back, colliding with your forehead as he flicked his finger against it. A surge of power shot into your head from his fingertip and spread throughout your body. The sheer magnitude of the force made you almost black out as your vision clouded with dark spots. As if you also suddenly got punched, you were propelled backwards, stumbling and struggling to catch yourself.

You felt yourself stepping on air and lost your balance, falling backwards. The ground(clouds?) had disappeared behind you, opening a small hole that let you fall through. You reached out your hand in a desperate attempt to hold onto something but to no avail.

You fell. Down and down until you could see that the "ground" you were standing on was indeed clouds in the sky. The sky. Calerus peeked his head over the edge, observing you as you fell with the same stoic look on his face. Just before he went out of hearing range, you heard him speak.

"One will be in touch."

He disappeared from view.

Now, back to the present, you were falling to your death, screaming and crying as you begged Calerus for mercy. Where's the compensation?! Was everything just now a trick?! Did you get scammed again?!

Tears rolled out of your eyes and flew into the air as you cried in fear, leaving behind trails of water droplets following your descend.

You sobbed as realisation kicked in that nobody was going to save you, as hopelessness consumed you to the point of not being able to think anymore.

The ground got closer and closer as the seconds ticked by. You closed your eyes which were still overflowing with tears, submitting to your faith and praying the impact will immediately kill you so you won't have to suffer in pain.

Goodbye.

"Ugh!"

You groaned as the impact came. Your back collided with the ground and you were....OK? You were in some pain but nothing too bad. In fact, the pain was already passing now.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and blinked away the tears still trapped inside. It was daytime already. How much time has passed? You looked around and saw petals of different hues falling down before landing on the dirt beside you. Above you, a tree with yellow leaves swayed gently, its branches lightly bouncing up and down while its yellow leaves, detached from their place on the branch, fell softly down and landed on your face. It seemed you fell through the tree just now. That would explain the tears on the hem of your sleeves.

Aurum trees?

Propping yourself up into a sitting position, you stared up as you wondered. While not rare or particularly hard to care for, aurum trees are only planted within temples of Ebreau due its yellow leaves. They are the only type of trees in Ebreau that grew leaves of that shade of yellow. A yellow similar to gold while not being being fully golden coloured. The colour yellow symbolises wealth in Ebreau and thus, indirectly their god, Calerus. They are a symbol of the divine hence why aurum trees are only grown in temples.

Then, that raises the question. Why were you at a temple?

You lowered your gaze from the tree and you nearly gasped from the scene in front of you. You were sitting in the middle of a flowerbed that consisted of various types of flowers with different hues for each one. Not far from you, rows of nuns and monks knelt in an orderly matter, faces all shocked and astonished. Some had their hands clasped together while some were covering their, what you assume to be, gaping mouths. Hushed whispers erupted as they stared and observed you. You even made eye contact with some of the nuns and monks in which all turned away immediately with flushed cheeks.

What's going on? Did you intrude on something? Oh no....

Before your thoughts could spiral any further, a tall shadow suddenly loomed over you. Your head snapped upwards as you met eyes with the figure, a man dressed in white robes with golden embellishments around the collar and hem of the sleeves. His eyes were purple, like amethysts. Under the sunlight, his long blonde hair seemed glossy, shiny even as it draped over his shoulders while he towered over you. Despite his intimidating stance, a soft smile was present on his face as the tails of his eyes curved upwards slightly, giving the impression of a kind and good hearted soul.

The man knelt down, his sleeves fluttering gently due to the breeze. That's when you got a better look at his face. He looked familiar...

It wasn't until that soft and silky voice of his poured out of his mouth when you realised who he was.

"Hello, Messiah. We've been expecting your arrival." He placed his hand on his chest and bowed his head at you. "I am Saint Zephyr Venrose. Representing the temple of Sonnet, the esteemed imperial family and the whole of Ebreau, I humbly welcome you." He lifted his head and smiled. Your breath got caught in your throat as he confirmed your suspicions.

Zephyr Venrose. One of the few saints in all of Ebreau and head of the temple of Sonnet. Closely associated with the royals of the kingdom and is a man of power within the boarders of Ebreau. He often gives speeches given his position as head of the biggest temple in the country during festive events. That's where you've heard his voice the couple of times you were passing by or, if you were in a good mood, listening to him talk. You've never been able to get a good look at his face since you were always pushed back by the crowd so you didn't recognise him at first glance. However, now with his face inches away from yours, you could see every last detail of his features and you must admit, you understood why the folks liked him so much.

Zephyr must surely be blessed in his appearance.

You froze in place as you stared in surprise at him, wondering why he was talking to you and processing his words.

Did he just call you Messiah?

Zephyr noticed your silence and your staring. He adverted his eyes as his gaze dropped down towards the ground while he smiled to himself.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion at the sight.

Zephyr coughed lightly before his arms reached towards you. You gasped as he suddenly picked you up bridal style from the flowerbed. Not used to being held like this, you gripped onto his robe for support. Your face contorted in worry and anxiety as you looked at the ground, afraid of being dropped.

Zephyr, of course, took notice of your panic and in response, tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer to him. As you felt his fingers pressing into your skin more tightly, you looked up at him, surprised he realised your concerns so quickly.

He smiled warmly at you as he leaned down, closing the gap between your faces even more. His blonde hair brushing and tickling your face as he whispered into your ear. "Don't be afraid, Miss Messiah. I will never let you fall." His hot breath hit your earlobe and you felt your heart skipped a beat. He pulled away before walking with you in his arms towards the rows of nuns and monks.

"Rejoice, my brothers and sisters for our Savior has come. Our God has delivered us our salvation. May glory be with his name for all eternity."

Zephyr announced loudly and his words were met with echoes of response from the other devotees.

"May he reign supreme!"

Your head felt like it was going to explode with all this information. Was this....Was this the compensation Calerus meant? To be his hands and eyes as you walk along the common folks? To be loved and praised like how he is? To be worshiped? You felt dizzy from being bombarded by this revelation.

You looked back up at Zephyr, hoping he could shed some more light on this predicament you found yourself in. However, you swallowed your words the moment you looked into his purple irises.

Zephyr was known for his gentle and endearing nature. Some say he's the embodiment of kindness. He's the type of person people can't help but be drawn towards due to the sense of security he gives and the tranquil aura he possesses. That was your initial impression of him too.

But looking at him now, you wondered if you were wrong.

With the closeness between you two, you could see the the subtle shade of pink on his cheeks and the flushing redness at the tip of his ears. His breathing fanned your face and you noticed how quick and shallow his breaths were. His fingers went from pressing firmly into your skin to digging themselves into your thighs and waist. Then, if you looked hard enough, you could see him swallowing occasionally.

And last but not least, you couldn't help but notice his eyes that had always been filled with warmth and tenderness seemed....

Crazed.

~✟~

A prologue/world building chapter for my future yandere stories taking place in this universe. If you spot any mistakes, please do point them out so I can correct them and give everyone the best reading experience! Especially with Calerus' old English(?) part, I'm still not sure when to use thee and when to use thou. I only did some basic research on Google.(T_T)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere stories #transmigration #fantasy #isekai #yandere saint #male yandere #female reader #yancore #yandere obsession

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queers-gambit · 11 months

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Blue Moon Wreckage

prompt: your husband can often lose his temper and resort to the man he was before you. you grow tired of lashing your tongue, and learn your husband responds better to silence.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 4.3k+

note: another stand alone, no sequel

warnings: cursing, talk of child abandonment, vulgar dialogue, old-fashioned views on marriage (maybe idk), not edited. small angst, small comfort. author probably missed some warnings.

The entire city cleaned up in preparation for Princess Rhaenyra's nuptials to the heir of Driftmark, Lord Laenor Velaryon. It was refreshing to see citizens rejoicing in a common theme and going around to hang different decorations; chandeliers of strung florals, wreaths woven and hung, lanterns set all around to create an ambiance in the street.

Romance was in the air.

It put people in jolly spirits, brought them elation, and gave the ability to decompress from the woes of life. Wine tasted sweeter, the food saltier, and many merchants came into town for the week-long celebration of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the hopes of selling enough wares to pay for three of their month's expenses. Every room at the inn was filled, brothels hosting the leftover stragglers; money was simply made in an abundance after taking advantage of the citizens come to celebrate.

And yet, deep within the halls of the Red Keep, not all were so at peace with the state of things.

Maids and servants all skidded around the corridor that housed your bedchambers shared with your husband. The walls almost vibrated with the sheer force of the yelling that took place, and while the sun shone on the rest of the Kingdom, there was a dark shadow over the Red Keep.

Rarely, and it was the truth, rarely did you and Daemon ever fight. He was your best friend, he was the love of your life, you've known him for years, and had long since developed an effective way to communicate. Daemon wasn't easy to deal with, in fact, even to those who knew how to handle him, he sometimes pushed past boundaries and threw curveballs into the mix. You were not immune to his sharp tongue and wicked-fast wit, but in reality, Daemon never actively sought conflict with you, so fighting was incredibly rare - though, not totally unheard of.

Like a blue moon - not totally unheard of, but still considered rare. And in pale moonlight, the ship you and Daemon found yourselves sailing on seemed to crash into a set of cliffside jagged rocks, all but imploding the balance you had found yourselves in.

A shipwreck during a blue moon.

Before you, Daemon was violent and volatile. He was irresponsible, impulsive, stubborn, hotheaded, and blood thirty. Many Ladies all vied for the Prince's attention, but as he grew older, he became more and more reckless and more Ladies started keeping their distance. Expect you. You heard rumor his grandmother, the Queen Alysanne, meant to marry him off to Rhea Royce but your father was almost too smart for his own good. He devised a tantalizing offer that the Crown would've been foolish to refuse - thus binding you and Daemon to fate.

Before you, Daemon wasn't a man. He was just a second son trapped in a shell of his body, full of anger with nowhere to expel himself. A boy with a temper. A lad with attitude. He was knighted at 16, an impressive feat, and not a full moon cycle later, you and Daemon wed. He wasn't easy to love, but that was because he was so defensive in his life living in his older brother's shadow.

Before you, Daemon never believed in love or acceptance. Yet everyday he spent with you, he was reminded of his value and worth as a person - not just a Prince, or a Targaryen. You worked every day for his trust and confidence, and once you had it, it was an unshakeable foundation. Daemon was everything to you, and before him, you were shy and awkward and overwhelmed in the glaring eyes of court. Now, you were confident, humble, and weeping with power.

You kept Daemon balanced in his head and heart.

Before you, he was like a wild dog. Now, he was domesticated for you and you alone. He realized how much his recklessness hurt you and never wanted to be the cause of your pain, so, Daemon cleaned himself up. Most days, he was perfectly content in life, and others, he was still as stubborn as ever, but every so often, Daemon loses sight of himself and resorts back to who he was before you.

Fighting with Daemon was always difficult. He wasn't accustomed to losing, so, when you two went toe-to-toe, he was out for blood. He loses himself in his anger, fueled only by the need to cause the most harm with his sharpest words. Daemon jumped to conclusions faster than a grasshopper hops from blades of grass because he was vastly insecure, and it took most of your will to restrain your anger enough to soothe him of his worries.

Daemon hated fighting with you, and you hated fighting with him. There was never a true victor because you both hated it so much. Perhaps that was why your once-in-a-blue-moon fights turned so gruesome and emotional; you both hated fighting that it made you fight even harder.

How you came to this, you didn't remember. One moment, you were enjoying a morning feast with your husband, and the next, you were locked in your chambers, lashing at each other's throats with hateful words.

"I do not understand!" You sobbed. "You agreed to this - "

"No! No, I did not! You did not consult me on this matter, you just accepted responsibility. For the both of us!"

"He is my little brother, Daemon!"

"He is not our responsibility!"

"He is now!"

"Because you took action without a word to me!"

"I did not need to consult you; he is my blood."

"But not mine."

You scoffed, "For fuck's sake, Daemon, do you hear yourself? You are whinging over a child - you're bloody jealous of a child! Where is the man I married?"

"I have done all I am expected and required as a husband, it is you who refuses my seed. Who refuses to grow our family!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Now you want a baby!? Married ten years, we are, and NOW you want to whinge about babies!? I am busy in case you've not bothered to look around every once in a while," you snapped, "and I understand having a baby is not ideal right now!"

"So, you will not take my seed because you are busy raising another man's?"

"He was my father - oh, Gods be good, why're we fighting over this?"

"You need to understand, he is not mine," Daemon seethed. "He will never be mine and I do not wish to treat him as such. The life and luxury we live in are not meant for a child that is neither of ours."

"What would you have me do!?"

"Send him to your brother."

"Oh, spare me this notion, Daemon! I will not hear of it! No! We are not discussing this again and again!"

"You mean to disobey me then, wife?" He snapped, making your mouth snap shut. "Huh? Think you're immune to the duties you must uphold as a woman? Think that allows you free rein? You are luckier than most that I allow you to have a fucking opinion; do not abuse my generosity. You want the child to stay, fine, I hear you, but I say he goes. Guess who's want will triumph?"

You blinked several times, unable to find words.

"Nothing to say?" He taunted. "That is a first, wife, you surprise me. In your moment of silence, do well to listen to me now: the child goes, or I do. You either get rid of the child or I will remove myself from this sham of a marriage."

"I do not recognize you, you are not my husband," you finally sighed. "Do me a favor and figure you may speak to me again once you're ready to apologize. If not, I assume by week's end, we will be celebrating both Rhaenyra's wedding and our annulment."

"Too much time has passed for such - "

"I know a Septon that will forge documents. Now," you eyed him up and down, "once more, do not think to speak to me unless to grovel for my forgiveness."

"You will die before that happens."

You nodded slowly, then shrugged and dodged around him to exit the room. You could not bear to be around him any longer, storming away to where your small brother was being looked after by a Septa. You did not speak to Daemon the rest of the day, feeling yourself brimming with anger as you replayed his words.

How dare he find insult in your desire to do "the right thing" by caring for your brother after your parents met their untimely demise? How dare he cite "wifely duties" to you? Just how dare he!

The day was supposed to be merry. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun and romantic and exciting and gossip worthy. Yet now, you were feeling annoyed, frustrated, weighed down, and plain stupid. You felt alone. You felt tired and worn thin. Your little brother, Jamie, always put a smile on your face, but now, you were simply ready to cry just by looking at him. This planted the seed of resentment towards Daemon, and through the day, only festered.

"My Lady?" You glanced in the mirror to see your hand maiden, who was doing your hair, humming in question. "Alyria has arrived, she will watch young Lord Jamie for the evening."

"Good, thank you," you sighed. "Has Daemon come around?"

"No, my Lady."

"Hmm."

Not 30 minutes later, you were walking towards the decorated throne room with your hair braided back, make-up laid perfectly, and your dress a dark grey, black, and Targaryen red.

However, before you could walk in, someone called your name. You paused, letting Daemon approach you, his eyes raking you in as he realized you dressed to match him. "You look beautiful," he complimented, but you just stared; then sighed through your nose and straightened up. "What? You're not speaking to me?"

"I told you the terms in which you should find it acceptable to speak to me again."

Daemon scoffed, "You're still on that?" You did not answer, just stared forward. "Fine, be that way. Come," he offered his arm, but you brushed past him to finally enter the throne room. Your names were announced, albeit begrudgingly because most in the castle harbored ill-will towards Daemon. They just felt bad for you, not knowing of the man you had grown to know and love unconditionally.

You took long strides to shorten your journey, but behind you, your husband just sauntered in as if the center of attention. However, no matter where he was, Daemon was always the main character, and he was quite the peacock in flaunting himself. You bowed to the King and his daughter, heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra. You took your seat beside the Hand of the King, Ser Strong, as Daemon climbed the stone stairs with a smug expression before taking the seat beside you at the very end.

Needless to say, Daemon was not accustomed to being ignored. You did not look at him, did not speak to him, ignored his direct questions, even went as far as to slapping his hand away when he reached for your thigh. When your hand rested on the table and he laid his over yours, you pulled it back.

It drove Daemon absolutely up the wall.

"And how fairs your brother, my Lady?" Ser Strong asked gently. "How does he like life in the Capital?"

"He adores it," you hummed with a nod. "He is learning so much and loves watching the boats in the harbor."

"How old is he now?"

"Just shy of 4, my Lord."

"Well, what would the little Prince like for his nameday?"

"Oh, uh, no, he's not a Prince," you spoke gently.

"No? Well, I suppose until Viserys recognizes him."

"Well, Daemon's made it clear that if I do not give custody of my brother up, this marriage is null and void, so," you clicked your tongue cheekily, sipping your wine, "no use in titles."

You knew others heard you and smirked to yourself. Another gulp of wine and you were standing, excusing yourself, and moving onto the dance floor. Rhaenyra giggled when you gave her a playful twirl before taking your place with a partner, falling into rhythm with those around you. The entire time, you felt Daemon's eyes burning into you.

You didn't care. You carried on as if there wasn't a ring on your wedding finger weighing like a full fish net, like you weren't burdened by your marriage.

You danced with a Tully, Stark, Frey, and Lannister boy, all who looked at you like a delectable treat but were being effectively ignored, just like your handsome, white-haired husband. It was a lively time, twisting and turning and leaping and being lifted in ture with the instruments playing. Rhaenyra caught your eye a few times, grinning and giggling as she, too, let herself destress in the glee of the festivities. However, when the Frey lad spun you around, you had thought of the devil so much, there he bloody was.

Your husband smirked down at you, "You look startled, little bird."

You scoffed and moved to go around him, but Daemon's hand was darting out to grab your upper arm. He pulled you further into the crowd to use them as a layer of protection, turning sharply to leer over you. He snapped in High Valyrian, "What're you playing at? Hmm? You mean to embarrass my entire family by being so cold and shrewish?"

You scoffed, glaring at him for a moment before he reached forward to grab your neck and cheek in a possessive hold. "I dare you to raise a sharp word at me," he sneered quietly, keeping you in place. "You have ignored me all fucking day, these games are at an end. I have always known your voice to be a sweet remedy, do not deprive me of it longer."

"Then apologize," You snapped.

"For what? Speaking the truth? That you refuse to sire my children because you are too occupied with your wee brother? For taking in a child without so much as asking me? Tell me, what am I apologizing for?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and swatting his hand from you. However, just as you meant to walk away from him, someone gasped and yelped from the people around you. Daemon brought you into his chest as a sudden crowd thickened, two bodies hitting the floor in a gruesome fight. This encouraged others to get rowdy, and before you could comprehend his actions, Daemon was stooping low to hoist you over his shoulder and stride away.

When out of the fray, Daemon slowed himself enough to set you down at the base of the stairs leading to the Royal banquet table, both his hands going to your cheeks. He panted lightly, looking you over, "All right? You hurt? They touch you?"

"No, I'm okay," you sighed gently, reaching up to hold his wrists in a brief show of affection. However, the crowd only grew in size and aggression; the Royals all taking refuge on the elevated landing to take a headcount. Not a moment later, Ser Harwin Strong, the Hand's eldest son, was emerging from the crowd with Rhaenyra hoisted up his shoulder.

But your attention was drawn elsewhere. You parted Daemon's side to get under Viserys' arm, lifting him up slightly as he coughed into a handkerchief. You frowned when you saw the blood, his eyes meeting your wide ones. You asked the only question you could think of, "Does Daemon know?"

"No," he matched your tone in a whisper.

You nodded and assisted him into the closest chair. After the death of Ser Laenor Velayron's paramour (Ser Joffrey, was it?) the hall was cleared of everyone to only leave the immediate family. In hopes of avoiding future turmoil, it was decided that the Realm's Delight, Rhaenyra, was to wed the Sea Snake's son, Laenor, now instead of at week's end. Viserys asked his brother to stay but you were quick to bow out, promising it was a family affair and you should get ready for bed anyways.

Daemon looked close to protesting your departure but was unable to utter a single word, only watching you scamper out of the throne room as the High Septon finally arrived.

Rhaenyra and Laenor married in front of his mother and father, Rhaenys and Corlys, and his sister, Laena. King Viserys was there with his brother Daemon and wife Alicent, leaving only the Hand present to pose as "unbiased witness".

Further into the castle, you collected your brother, Jamie, and quickly got him ready for bed. Your heart felt heavy with guilt as you looked at him, understanding on a deeper level that if it came down to it, you'd do anything to keep Daemon in your life... And if he said your brother had to go or he did, well, you feared to find out if he was serious.

Jamie fell asleep on the long bench at the base of your bed with a fire crackling in front of his face. He had fallen asleep listening to you read, your emotions catching up to you to let you finally sob quietly while preparing for bed. You hated the idea of losing either Daemon or Jamie, and the fact that you had to choose? It felt impossible. So, once ready for bed, you tied on your dressing robe and bent at the waist to kiss Jamie's forehead. You then found yourself standing at the floor-to-ceiling window, wine in hand, staring out into nothing as you were wrecked emotionally from considering Daemon's ultimatum.

You were overwhelmed.

The door opened behind you and your eyes screwed shut. You took an even breath in, heard the door shut quietly, and then turned to spy your husband already staring at you. His face was neutral, passive, and you knew he was sizing you up just as you were him; both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your resolve crumbled.

As if your minds were connected by a string, you surged forward as Daemon took a few steps toward you, meeting in the middle, and wrapping your arms around one another. Daemon held your waist tightly as yours tied around his neck in a vice grip, breathing in his scent that seemed to mingle permanently with the smell of dragon. He felt gentle trembling from contained sobs, soothing you with hushed cooing; hand petting the back of your head.

When you pulled back, it was only just enough to find his lips; drenching yourself in sheer relief at the familiar taste and feel of your husband. Just before you could whimper you were sorry, truly being unsure what you were actually apologizing for, when he beat you to it.

The space between your lips was filled with Daemon's rushed words, both his hands cradling your cheeks as he spoke, "I'm so sorry, my love. I am. I am truly so sorry. I hate fighting, I hate us fighting, it just feels so fucking wrong, I'm so sorry."

"No, it is I who am sorry, husband."

"Nothing to apologize for," he rushed, forehead glued to yours as he moved you backwards to the bed. "You do not apologize to me; you have done no wrong. It's me, I am the one who should grovel. I do deserve your kindness; I am so sorry for what I've said." He took a long breath, just holding you carefully, "I was out of line."

"No, you were right. I did not consult you; I should have. It is not just you or I in this, but the two of us together. I shouldn't have acted without so much as a word."

"It is okay," he assured softly, "it is more than all right by me now. I just," he sighed, "I needed to think, process a little. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I should've listened to you and been a supportive husband, but instead, I just fought with you." He frowned, petting down your face with a dainty finger. "We fight because we care, but Gods do I hate it."

"I do, too," you whispered. "Can we just," you sighed, "go to bed or something? I'm exhausted."

He nodded, glancing at the foot of the bed before looking back at you, "One more thing."

"Hmm?"

"We will talk to Viserys in the morning about recognizing Jamie."

You frowned, "Well, hang on, I think I understand your point, too, Daemon. Listen, yes, I want us charged with Jamie's care, but I do not wish to replace his parents."

"He should still have a title, a place at court. Access to tutors and such."

You smiled fondly, whispering, "That is the man I married."

Daemon prepared for bed as you check Jamie, finding him fast asleep still. Your husband came to bed after blowing out all candles, leaving the fire simmering and you both under a single linen sheet. He laid on his back with you flush against his side, both hands holding your form and tracing idle patterns.

Every so often, he'd squeeze you tightly and kiss your forehead, but otherwise, you both just laid in peace. However, Daemon broke the silence, "I did not mean to cause you harm. I just felt panicked, I think, after the war."

You nodded with understanding, "Our time is on the horizon, Daemon, I promise, I just needed to find balance with Jamie. I've never been a mother before, 's very odd."

"Perhaps we can learn together, I've never been a father," Daemon offered softly. "I fear I have not been entirely welcoming."

"You've time to remedy it," you urged softly. "But you are not obligated."

"He will be our shared responsibility."

You smiled against his chest. "So, tell me of the wedding."

"Nothing special," he sighed. "Viserys fell ill. And I do mean literally fell."

"What? Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's being seen to... But I was thinking..."

"Of?"

"Us. Our family."

"Hm, and what of them, my love?"

Daemon sighed, reaching for your cheek in order to find your lips in the dark. "We will leave," he whispered, licking another kiss to your lips. "We'll go across the Narrow Sea together, raise a family away from the politics and chaos."

"You would miss your family."

"I would rue staying in this city. Away from here, we'd have liberties and freedoms Kings Landing does not offer us, nor our kids."

"I will think on it."

When morning broke through the window of consciousness, Daemon realized you were still sound and dead asleep, but there was something or someone poking his arm in an annoying repetition. When he blinked awake and looked to the culprit, he smiled slightly at Jamie. "What's wrong, little lad?" He asked quietly, voice heavy and hazy with sleep, seeing tears fill the kid's eyes.

"I-I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?"

"I wet the bed," he frowned, looking at the lounge he slept on all night. "I didn't mean to. It was a scary dream."

"It's okay," he whispered, glancing at you before standing from bed. "C'mon, it's all right, we can clean it."

He nodded and let Daemon sit him at the bottom of the mattress, some two full feet from touching you. Jamie watched Daemon work, gathering any linens to set aside to be washed before plucking the child into his arms. He took his to the washroom and got him cleaned up before redressing him for the day, Daemon quickly doing the same, and then the two left for the day.

You slept while Daemon took Jaime to breakfast. You slept while the two ate and made merry; getting to know each other. You slept while Daemon answered little Jamie's questions. You slept while Daemon offered to introduce him to Caraxes, his dragon.

By the time you were awake, dressed, and approaching the mess hall, Daemon and Jamie were leaving to head for the Dragon Pit. When they saw you, Jamie grinned and squealed, "Sissy!"

You grinned when he rushed for your legs, greeting him with enthusiasm. You hoisted him onto your hip as Daemon approached you, pausing to lean in and kiss you. "Where are you two lads off to?"

"Dragons!"

You chuckled, "Yeah? Uncle's taking you to see the dragons? You're very lucky, not many people get to see them up close."

"Would you care to join us?" Daemon offered.

"No, no, that's quite all right. Thank you, my love, but perhaps this is best kept to a boy’s trip," you quipped, pecking Daemon's lips. "Bring him back in one piece, please."

"Of course," Daemon agreed, taking Jamie's hand when you set him on the ground. He stole one last kiss before leading Jamie away; where you watched them walk away and felt something stirring in your gut; suddenly come alive with tingling electricity. Instead of venturing into the mess hall, you instead continued your way to where you could meet the Grand Maester for a series of tests.

Learning you were pregnant was surreal, but incredibly elating. You were humored by the fact that, just hours ago, you and Daemon feuded for this very reason. However, after simply seeing your husband and little brother get along so effortlessly, you had no doubt in your mind you could handle this. Worrying about having Jamie and a newborn so close together was valid, of course - but it wasn't something you actually needed to worry about now.

Plenty of families had children with shorter age ranges, but none of that matters now - not when you were so explicably happy. All that was left to do now was tell Daemon and Jamie.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon #daemon hotd #house of the dragon daemon #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon x you

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summercomfort · 4 months

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in my pursuit of ever-increasingly niche comics, I drew a 13 page comic about Tape v Hurley, a court case about Chinese-American school segregation in 1885. The rest of the pages are after the readmore, as well as on AO3 here. More obsure Chinese American court case comics are there, as well.

Historical Notes

Mary and Joseph Tape were not born in America, but their names and identities were very much formed in America. Joseph Tape was born Jeu Dip in Guangdong, China, immigrated the America when he was twelve, and spent his teenage years working as a house servant in an Irish household. Mary arrived in America at the age of eleven, and was found and raised as Mary McGladery in a Protestant orphanage as the only Chinese child amongst ~80 children. Both Mary and Jeu spent their formative years amongst White Christian families, so when Jeu Dip and Mary married in 1875, little wonder that Jeu picked the English name of Joseph Tape -- Joseph to match with Mary, and the German last name Tape as a nod to his former name of Dip.

The Tape family lived about 14 blocks outside of Chinatown, in a primarily white neighborhood. They dressed in Western clothing, spoke English at home, and Mamie grew up playing with non-Chinese kids. Naturally, they wanted their children to attend the local elementary school, a mere 3 blocks from their home. The principal, Ms. Hurley, denied her entrance, claiming that she was “filthy and diseased.” At the time, there was no public school option for Chinese children -- the 1870 state law stipulated separate schools for “African and Indian children” only, not Chinese. The Tape family, with the help of the Chinese Six Companies, their church, and the Chinese consulate, decided to sue, claiming that the 1880 California school code guaranteed everyone a right to public education and that this was a violation of the 14th Amendment.

They won.

But this was 1885, three years after the passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act and six years before Plessy v Ferguson. Regardless of what the California Supreme Court might decide, public sentiment was on the side of the San Francisco school district. Determined to keep out this “invasion of Mongol barbarism”, the California State Legislature passed a law permitting separate schools for Chinese children, which then allowed Principal Hurley to reject Mamie Tape once more.

While Mamie was rejected from the Spring Valley Elementary School for being Chinese, she also had a hard time fitting in to the Chinese public school. The Chinese merchants saw Western education as something primarily for boys. (Their girl children learned from their mothers at home.) Mamie, a girl dressed in Western clothes, would have stood out like a sore thumb. The final panel of the comic was based on a photo from three years later, and even then, Mamie was the only girl.

Places where I fudged the history: Frank, Mamie’s younger brother, was actually six years old and should have been more present in the comic, but I wante to keep the focus on Mamie and Mary. Also, Mamie had actually shown up to her first day of school in Western clothes. An earlier draft of the comic had a separate arc involving Mamie feeling rejected at school and Mary buying her some Chinese clothes, but that got too long and complicated.

Much of this was drawn from Mae Ngai’s book about the Tape family and their experiences as 2nd and 3rd generation Chinese Americans, titled “The Lucky Ones.”

----------

Here is Mary Tape's letter to the San Francisco School Board, 1885:

1769 Green Street. San Francisco, April 8, 1885. To the Board of Education - Dear Sirs: I see that you are going to make all sorts of excuses to keep my child out off the Public schools. Dear sirs, Will you please to tell me! Is it a disgrace to be Born a Chinese? Didn’t God make us all!!! What right have you to bar my children out of the school because she is a chinese Decend. They is no other worldly reason that you could keep her out, except that. I suppose, you all goes to churches on Sundays! Do you call that a Christian act to compell my little children to go so far to a school that is made in purpose for them. My children don’t dress like the other Chinese. They look just as phunny amongst them as the Chinese dress in Chinese look amongst you Caucasians. Besides, if I had any wish to send them to a chinese school I could have sent them two years ago without going to all this trouble. You have expended a lot of the Public money foolishly, all because ofa one poor little Child. Her playmates is all Caucasians ever since she could toddle around. If she is good enough to play with them! Then is she not good enough to be in the same room and studie with them? You had better come and see for yourselves. See if the Tape’s is not same as other Caucasians, except in features. It seems no matter how a Chinese may live and dress so long as you know they Chinese. Then they are hated as one. There is not any right or justice for them. You have seen my husband and child. You told him it wasn’t Mamie Tape you object to. If it were not Mamie Tape you object to, then why didn’t you let her attend the school nearest her home! Instead of first making one pre tense Then another pretense of some kind to keep her out? It seems to me Mr. Moulder has a grudge against this Eight-year-old Mamie Tape. I know they is no other child I mean Chinese child! care to go to your public Chinese school. May you Mr. Moulder, never be persecuted like the way you have persecuted little Mamie Tape. Mamie Tape will never attend any of the Chinese schools of your making! Never!!! I will let the world see sir What justice there is When it is govern by the Race prejudice men! Just because she is of the Chinese decend, not because she don’t dress like you because she does. Just because she is descended of Chinese parents I guess she is more of a American then a good many of you that is going to prewent her being Educated. Mrs. M. Tape

#original comic #chinese american history #legal history #turns out there's a lot of chinese american court cases #that i have a lot of feelings about #my comic #mine

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

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pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

warnings: explicit language. secret relationship. nsfw smut. lactation kink. breeding kink. mentions of previous pregnancies. absolute fluffy and simpy shit because aemond is head-over-heels for his handmaid.

notes: okay so no one asked for this shit, but please enjoy this lil smutty drabble I randomly decided to whip up before my pilates. thanks. love y'all. mwuah.

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Prince Aemond prefers his nighttime baths with heat.

It is something you’ve learned as his personal handmaid.

“Mine is the house of the dragon,” he once told you while watching you fill-up the bath with hot water from the kitchen. It was your first night acting as his servant, and you were terrified of making any foolish mistake. But there was a proud smirk on his lips when he said it and a strange gleam in his eye too. You had mentioned your fear of accidentally burning the prince aloud, and he shook his head at that, demanding a hot bath. “It can never be too hot for a Targaryen. The fire is in my blood, sweet girl.”

And now you empty the last of the hot kitchen water into the tub, slowly running your fingers through the water before reaching for the fragrant oils- new ones from Essos, gifted to the family by an old Tyroshi merchant. The older prince liked the way they smelled. So did you.

Soon comes a soft knock at the door. “Is my bath ready?” Prince Aemond asks, standing beneath the archway. He is without his leather eyepatch, and his sapphire catches the dim candle lighting. You stand to your feet and bow your head, nodding. “Good,” he mumbles, tugging his cotton tunic over his head and unbuttoning his pants, “I trust it is still hot?”

“Yes, my prince, just the way you like. I had just finished scenting the waters before you arrived,” you say, taking his hand to help him into the tub. True to your words, the water is scalding hot, but Aemond neither flinches nor cries out; instead, he sighs in delight as he sinks himself further into the water. You wash his long, silver-pale hair and gently comb out the tangles and snags, all in silence as he keeps his head tilted and eyes closed.

It is a soft moment, intimate and peaceful, and you notice the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Do you wish for me to wash your back as well, my prince?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

When his hair is clean, you sit back and gently undo the knot around your neck that holds up your plain servant’s gown. Aemond twists to watch as the cloth falls down your shoulders, leaving you bare and beautiful before his very eye. He finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from your breasts, still heavy with milk and incredibly sensitive and soft and heavenly to behold. “C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you close to bury his face within your chest.

“You are so beautiful,” he hums, glancing up at you while brushing a finger against your swollen nipple. “The most beautiful woman in the world,” and he brings it to his hot mouth, sucking at it. You gasp, entangling your hand in his wet hair as you press his face closer, arching your back. His hand tweaks and pinches your other nipple, stirring a flood of high-pitched, loud moans and whimpers. “Beautiful and all fucking mine,” he slaps at your breast- once, twice, three times before switching his mouth to suckle there. Your milk soon floods his mouth, and the delicious taste leaves his poor, aching cock too hard and damned painful for him to ignore.

Aemond has you suddenly on your feet, flushed and trembling, poor knees ready to buckle at any second, before guiding you into the bath. Like him, you do not flinch or wince from the heat, and it makes him so fucking proud, settling you over him and grabbing at your hips, too impatient, wanting nothing more than to sink himself into you.

“My seed has done you well,” he blusters in awe, marveling at your beauty. “My sons have given you their fire as well, it seems.”

You smile, rocking your hips back and forth. “I am merely your humble servant, my prince,” you giggle, dropping your face low to collect his lips in a hot, wet kiss. Meanwhile, your thighs shake, and your pretty face soon scrunches up in pure bliss as you take his fat cock deep in your belly with little bounces. “Who am I to deny my prince…!” you gasp out, gripping his shoulders as he wraps his own arms tight around you, jackhammering into your pussy. It causes water to splatter outside the tub in tiny puddles.

“No,” he grunts, sliding a hand up to your neck to press you downwards as close to him as possible. Your forehead flattens against his as you do your best to match his thrusts, eyes locking with his. Aemond’s stare- it is intense and passionate, and you cannot break away. “No,” he repeats through a hiss, knotting his other hand within your damp hair, feeling your heavy breasts brushing against his chest. “Not just a-a fucking servant,” he says, slipping a hand between your thighs to find your clit with his thumb, “You’re my fucking everything. All fucking mine. Imma put another babe in your belly so that everyone fucking knows who you belong to.”

Aemond looks down to see the slightest bulge of his cock, pushing in and out of your soaking cunt. You hiccup, pretty eyes red and teary and glazed-over as you nod feverishly, kissing him again. “Please-please-please-please,” you babble, heavy pants against his mouth as you unashamedly plead and beg and cry, “I-I want- I need it- please, please, I need it again.”

His thrusts quicken at the mental image of you with another swollen belly, trailing after him as his devoted and sweet handmaid. Once again, you’ll be glowing with motherhood, absolutely gorgeous, leaving lowborn bastards to stare at him with sheer envy. “People are going to look at you, my sweet girl,” he pants, his thrusts growing sloppily as he feels himself ready to cum. “They’re gonna know that babe in your belly is mine. All mine. Your back is gonna ache, and your tits will leak, and it will be because of me.”

His hot mouth glides across your jawline, down to your neck, leaving countless bites and bruises. You’re much too beautiful like this. “I want our next one to look just like you,” he mutters, pinching your clit between two fingers. You shriek, flinging your head back at the pleasure spiking up your spine. “Can you do that for me, sweet girl? My lady, my love. Give me a babe that looks like you?” He slams his mouth down on yours again in a heavy and wet kiss, sucking on your tongue.

When he pulls away, his fingertips run across your bottom lip as he leans to kiss your forehead, feeling your cunt tighten around his cock. A new babe will soon join his precious twins sleeping in the nursery. He smiles at the thought. “I want a daughter,” he whispers, “-who looks exactly like my pretty handmaid so that the entire fucking world knows how much I love her.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond smut #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #handmaid!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

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19burstraat · 2 months

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Random SOC Trivia I Gathered On My Reread

I'll be using this for fics, but it's fun just to read!

Jesper does not hold alcohol well (though this is according to Kaz, who is not exactly impartial)

Wijnstraat, Nemstraat, Havenstraat, Ammberstraat are all street names if you want em

Van Eck has been involved in trying to clean up the Barrel; pious. (Allegedly pious, I doubt he really is)

1/5 Van Eck (or general Kerch trading?) vessels are lost at sea

Kaz arrested three times at ten, twice at eleven, once at fourteen. Does stints in jail but it does not say prison (ppl assume he's been to Hellgate / another prison but I don't think so. He'd never have shut the fuck up about it if he had; I assume the Stadhall Jail)

Kaz's cane is lead-lined. I wasn't sure if this was canon or fanon

Kaz runs book on prize fights, horses, and chance games. Floor boss at crow club since fifteen-ish. Youngest to run a betting shop and has doubled the profits.

Gambling halls: Treasure Chest, Golden Bend, Weddell's Riverboat, Silver Garter

West Stave brothels: The Blue Iris, The Forge, The Obscura, the Willow Switch, the House of Snow

Van Aakster is the widow mercher who sees Nina to ease his grief

Inej likes orange cakes in white paper

Black Tips tattoo is a hand with first and second fingers cut at the knuckle, Razorgulls is 5 birds in wedge formation

Nina Jesper and Kaz definitely all have the crow and cup; the others don't

Jordie seems to like books

ridderspel and spijker are arcade games

Bilge, clams, and wet stone smell in the Barrel (per Retvenko)

Kaz definitely is partial to dogs; Smeet's hounds and the grey dog the Hertzoon household had, the windup dogs, the metaphors. He loves a dog metaphor sorry ur not real babycakes you'd have loved thematic web weaving posts

Geldspin is the cotton mill in Zierfoort, Firma Allerbest is a cannery. Both in Alys' name

Wylan was 8 when Marya 'died'

the black veil tomb is carved like an ancient cargo ship

3 flying fish on a grave: government. Palm trees and snakes: spices.

Inej's mother braids her hair with orange ribbons (colour of persimmons)

University a series of buildings built around the Boekcanal and joined by Speaker's Bridge (where people debate and/or drink). Boeksplein four libraries built around a central courtyard and the Scholar's Fountain

Shipping container at third harbour is a Liddie hideout; Jam Tart House is an old hotel near the slat that the Razorgulls use

Long scar across Kaz's right knuckle

Violating contracts and interfering with the market can get you hanged in Kerch; same sentences as for murder (this is. Insane)

Haskell holds court with his mates at the Fair Weather Inn every week

Belendt is the second oldest Kerch city and sits on the Droombeld River

Jesper was 7 when Aditi died

Inej has an uncle (who seems to have some sort of ringmaster role) and cousins; Hanzi and Asha

Kaz convinced a locksmith in Klokstraat that he was the son of a wealthy merchant who highly valued his collection of priceless snuffboxes, and that's how he knows what locks the rich are using

Hubrecht Mohren, Master Thief of Pijl, who Kaz doesn't appear to think much of; one of Haskell's old cronies

Martin Van Eck, Wylan's great great grandfather, was a ship's captain, brought back a big shipment of spices from Eames Chin and started the Van Eck fortune

Kaz and Jesper (+ other Dregs boys) taught Inej to fight

Kaz and Jordie are from a town near Lij, as per the 'Johannus Rietveld' exposition, but Lij is seemingly the closest major city/county so it's easier to just say they're from Lij lol

The last time the Council of Tides appeared in public was 25 years prior to CK

Kaz found Filip running a monte game on Kelstraat; he also got the clerks who turned over fake info, the fake attorney, the man who gave them free hot chocolate

The spelling of Zentzbridge lapses to Zentsbridge, not sure which is right or if they're actually separate bridges or if there's a lot of wrong quotes floating around lol

Dryden house symbol is the golden wheat sheaf bound with a blue ribbon; Van Eck is the red laurel but we knew that

Kaz taught himself finance and gambling hall rules

Church of Barter roof is copper and long has turned green

Church of Barter built around the First Forge / The Mortar, which is a flat lump of rock that's supposedly Ghezen's altar

Ghezendaal Hospital is. Idk. a hospital. Just thought ppl might want the name

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #soc duology #shadow and bone #my post

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honeydippedwaffles · 4 months

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Fading Light

Summary: Tav changed in order to be with Astarion. She never minded adjusting her life to be with her vampire but the guilt he feels for taking her away from her life is only growing. Something has to give eventually.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.2k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

She’d always considered herself to be adaptable. She had to be, considering everything that had happened to her in the very recent past. From the moment she woke up on the awful mindflayer ship to the climax of it all, nothing had been a given. She’d been forced to change to save her friends so she had to be rather accepting of new situations.

It was why she had figured becoming nocturnal wouldn’t bother her much at all.

She’d hung dark curtains in her room to prevent the sun from waking her during the days. If she missed it, all she would do was wake up earlier and step out to watch it set before Astarion joined her for the night.

She didn’t mind living like that. Sometimes she missed things with her friends but she made the effort to see them and they responded kindly. She'd adapted.

But Astarion hated it.

He watched her wistfully when she made her way to the door during the sunlight hours – forced to leave early to pick up groceries or something while the merchants still sold their wares. He’d give her a kiss on the cheek and wish her well but she’d be a fool to miss his mood after.

She tried to bring it up and he artfully dodged around the idea. He’d always been far too good at avoiding topics.

The day it started getting worse started when she lost track of time early in the morning. She’d built a solid relationship with various traders and workers around the city. Those who knew things and could send her down the track to a potential cure if they came across it. Mostly what that meant was dealing with their ridiculous requests though.

Could you find my lost necklace (taken by his sister to pay off her gambling debts)? My daughter went missing, could you find her (she ran away to marry a hobgoblin, of all things)? Somebody’s stealing my goods, find them (rats).

This time though, they found the missing caravans by following the scent of rotted meat until they came across gnolls. They took barely any effort to get rid of but they’d set up their den in some old, crumbling houses.

And she could never pass down the opportunity to investigate.

The stone walls had been destroyed in a fire and, as she nosed around, she came across various herbs and poultices that promised this house may have been an apothecary’s stopover. Most of the stone walls had crumbled but a few stood and it was while she opened one of the drawers that she felt him creep up behind her.

His lips brushed against her throat, barely there but enough to send shivers of gooseflesh over her skin.

She tilted her head to the side in an invite and he nipped at the sensitive skin with a small chuckle. The chill of his breath over the shell of her ear drew an embarrassingly small sound from her throat. He muttered something she couldn’t quite hear and nipped at her earlobe with sharp fangs.

She fought the flush on her cheeks, turned around and kissed him. Iron lingered on his frozen lips as he pushed her against the walls. Her fingers crept up the front of his armour until she found purchase to pull him close.

No matter how often he kissed her, her heart raced just the same as it had that first time by the river. But he touched her with such reverence now; held her like he wanted to make sure she never left.

Not that she planned to.

She tilted her head back to draw a small gasp of air and he immediately fell on her throat; nipped at her collarbone and drew stuttered breaths from her lungs.

But the pulse of pleasure as his fingers skimmed her thighs quickly disappeared when she spotted the edge of the horizon beginning to lighten. The sun had begun to rise and they were still far from the city. They had to get moving soon.

She released her hold on his armour, her fingers aching from the grip she’d had. The slight concern pulsed in her veins and overthrew anything else. “We need to leave ‘Starion.”

“Aw,” he complained and looked up at her with a wicked glint in his eyes. The one that she knew she’d do anything for. “You weren’t scared of some dirt the other night,” he purred. “Are you worried about the gnolls judging us?”

She laughed and he took the opportunity to kiss her again. She moaned into his mouth as he eased his way past her lips. How easy it was to lose herself in him. She could spend the rest of her life in his arms and be perfectly happy but to do that, she needed him to not burn into ash.

She broke the kiss with every ounce of her willpower. “The sun’s coming up.”

He turned to look over his shoulder and an immediate distaste darkened his expression. “Right,” he said. “Forgot that sunrises are one of those things I’m not allowed to see anymore.”

He stepped away and she desperately wanted to draw him back. The sudden change in his mood hurt her though she knew she wasn’t the cause.

“We can continue when we get back to the house, if you want?” she offered.

Astarion nodded dismissively but the energy had disappeared into the air with her words. She knew he’d be in a poor mood for at least the rest of the day and she really couldn’t blame him. He’d grown to love the sun over their adventures. It had very nearly changed her decision at the end of it all.

Sometimes she wondered if there had been a way to keep him safe. She worried she hadn’t looked hard enough for the solution.

They hurried to get back to the city. Every ray that crept over the horizon sent another stab of fear into her heart. This area was exposed and once the sun made its appearance, hiding would be a difficult thing.

She almost tripped over the gnoll bodies before she remembered to grab something from the caravan to prove she found it. Even then, she had to leave half her pack behind and hope the various bandits in the area had enough self-preservation not to go sniffing around a den.

She didn’t really trust them to have the intelligence though. She’d had to go find enough of them for their worried friends.

Even with their half-sprinting, they nearly ran out of time and a soft ray caught Astarion’s arm as he ducked through the door, causing him to hiss in pain before he vanished into their house.

She paused in the frame, her attention turned to the sun in half anger and half admiration.

Though she’d adapted to being nocturnal, she did miss the sun. Though she may wish it stayed away so she could spend more time with Astarion outside, she couldn’t help but enjoy the warmth it left on her skin.

Strange how she’d never even appreciated how different life would be without it until she had to make the decision to stay away. It had been her choice but it was his curse. She hated to imagine how much he must miss being around in the daylight hours.

She stepped inside the dark house and closed the door firmly behind her. A few of the wall candles had been lit for her and so she made her way to their small library where he’d settled on one of the loveseats, his arm raw and his attention on the blank book in front of him.

“I’m sorry I lost track of time,” she said though she knew it wasn’t her fault.

She gathered the balm she now kept scattered around the house and gently began to treat the parts of the skin that had been touched. Thankfully, it looked like it wouldn’t blister this time.

“I keep forgetting,” he admitted. “Never thought I would.”

“We’ll just need to be more careful next time. I’ll go visit the merchant later today and see if this is the right caravan. He better pay me well for this.”

She didn’t mean in gold. No, she often traded her services for information on their products and their sources.

Astarion traced the line of her jaw with his fingers, tilted her head toward him and brushed his lips against her own. “You’ve been looking a little weaker than usual,” he mused. “I can’t help but wonder if maybe you’re missing the sun. I hear it’s important for most.”

“I see the sun enough,” she said. “If I needed to be out there more, I’ll just wake up earlier but the city is far too boring without you there.”

“Flatterer,” he said with a laugh she didn’t quite like.

When Astarion laughed properly, the corners of his eyes crinkled in the best way possible. She loved to kiss him on those marks and so she noticed when he laughed without them.

“We’ll find a solution eventually,” she said firmly.

“Well, I can’t say I’m too enthralled by the idea,” he admitted, his tone cooler. “The last two opportunities I had to walk in the sunlight ended up destroyed forever.”

Her blood chilled at the implication and her smoothing of the balm over his arm paused. “Those weren’t options,” she said after the silence stretched too long. “Either one meant you’d be sacrificing something of yourself.”

“Apparently,” he said. “But we don’t really know what would have happened unless you’ve turned into a psychic while I wasn’t looking.”

She’d always thought he appreciated how against his ascension she’d been. Even not knowing much about vampires, she had the idea that that type of power didn’t come without cost. He’d have been giving up more than just his curse in order to walk in the sun.

“Astarion…”

“But it’s fine,” he said. “I still have my soul so that I can stay trapped up in another house for the rest of my life. Except this time, I get to keep somebody else captive with me. Fun.”

She frowned and slowly retracted her touch on his arm. “I’m not trapped,” she said. “I can leave whenever I want to. I’m choosing to be here with you.”

“You’re choosing to be with me,” Astarion said as though she didn’t understand. “But I don’t think you’re choosing to live without the sun. If we could choose right now to make it possible to live a normal life with me, would you take it?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “Because it seems to me that you aren’t willingly giving up your daylight, you’re sacrificing it.”

She crossed her arms. “Even if it was a sacrifice, it’s my choice.”

“It shouldn’t be. Daylight compliments you too much. You have no idea how beautiful you look when sunshine dapples your skin and flushes your cheeks.” He smiled at her and she winced, knowing he meant to charm. “When I see you in the sun, I know I’m looking upon beauty itself.”

She wouldn’t be distracted by the ceaseless flattery. Not when she knew what he was implying with it.

“If you’re feeling caged up, we can always travel,” she said. “I’ll organise for somebody to watch the house and we can start exploring further than the city’s reach.”

She’d been wanting to stay in one place for a short while to recover from the incident with the mindflayers. It had been somewhat long enough, she figured, that she should be able to head out without worries. A couple of weeks of travel might even do her some good.

The others had been keeping an eye out for any information but they were busy with their own lives. Though maybe one or two of them might be willing to join for an adventure or two.

“There’s no point,” he said. “Darling, let’s not keep pretending we’re going to find a solution we like. Power comes from sacrifice.”

“Not of your soul,” she said. “Or of your mind. There’s a way.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m sure of it.”

Astarion stared at her for so long that she felt he might be trying to read her mind as they once were able to. Part of her missed that. She’d liked being able to understand what he wanted easily, even when he tried to hide it.

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re so sure, we can pack after you’ve rested. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’ll send a letter to Wyll so long,” she said and got up. She met his beautiful eyes and tried not to melt into them. “But just so you know, I’ve always loved the moon far more than I ever did the sun.”

In some ways, she expected it. Part of her knew, even as she drifted off to sleep and he pressed a small kiss to the side of her head. She fell asleep with her hands knotted tightly in the fabric of his shirt, as though it would be enough to keep him there no matter what.

When she woke up in the evening with her heavy curtains pulled aside and a fresh breeze blowing in through the windows, she didn’t need to check to know she wouldn’t find him in the house.

She did anyway. Walked from room to room with a blanket over her shoulders and a sinking heart and when she returned to the bedroom, she moved his pillow to see if a dagger still lay under it.

And seeing it missing was the final thing before the tears started to fall.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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maidragoste · 5 months

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Chapter One: The Reaping

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader (I labeled it that even though Jace's backstory is different from Katniss's but he and Reader will be the star-crossed lovers of district 12)

Chapter Two

I really hope you like it because I'm so excited to write this au!

Please let me know what you think in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys entered the Victors' Village, not that he was a victor. In fact, his name had never come up in the reaping. But he and his brothers lived there since his uncle Larys took care of them after his father died in the middle of an explosion in the mines while working.

The teenager quickly quickened his pace while adjusting his grip on the only two squirrels he had brought from all the ones he had hunted during the morning with Baela, his best friend. He may not have needed to hunt for food anymore but he was one of the few people in District 12 who knew how to hunt. Some people had depended on bartering with his father to bring a plate of food to his table. His father would not have wanted him to leave those people abandoned, so every day he sneaks into the forest with Baela to look for deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish, or any type of edible vegetable or fruit. He always gave the best goods to Baela, after all, she had more mouths to feed with her mother, her twin sister, and her two little brothers. But the rest he exchanged with the merchants or even sometimes he practically ended up giving away his merchandise due to the low price that he was willing to accept from the families that he knew did not have enough to eat to prevent them from ending up asking for more tesserae. Uncle Larys had never told him but Jacaerys knew that he thought he was a fool for doing that.

Jacaerys hated the silence in the village but it was no surprise considering that of the twelve houses there, the only house that was being inhabited was his uncle's. Of the seventy-three Hunger Games that have been held so far, there have only been two victors from District 12 and the only one still alive is Larys Strong.

Jace hurried into the house trying to ignore the heaviness in his stomach.

“I told you Luke would throw up again this year! You owe me!” was the first thing Joffrey, his youngest brother, said when he saw him.

Lucerys, or Luke as his dad had nicknamed him, was the middle brother, and every year he had the worst time during Repairing; which was the moment when the District escort went up to the podium and then took a random piece of paper from each glass urn, one containing the names of all the boys between twelve and eighteen years old and another with the names of the girls. This was how the tributes were chosen for each Hunger Games. Like any coherent person in District 12 Luke feared being chosen as a tribute and unlike Jacaerys he could not hide his fear.

“Take this to the kitchen,” the oldest of the brothers asked, handing the squirrels to Joffrey before running to the bathroom.

When Jacaerys entered he found Luke hunched over, holding the toilet bowl. Ignoring the smell of vomit he hurried to his brother's side and with one hand began to rub soothing circles on Luke's back while the other brushed the hair from his face. He doesn't know how many minutes they stayed like this until the youngest finally stopped vomiting.

"I'm sorry, Jace" Luke apologized with a broken voice and tears on his cheeks, clearly feeling ashamed for being in the same position for another year. "I really tried."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," Jacaerys denied as he helped him up from the floor. "It's okay to be afraid. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid."

"Joffrey is not afraid," the youngest murmured after cleaning his face.

Joffrey must have been the only thirteen-year-old in District 12 who wasn't horrified at the thought of his name coming up in the Reaping. Jacaerys believed it was because Joff thought he would be able to win the games just by being a relative of a victor. Also, of the three, Joff seemed to want Uncle Larys's validation and attention the most. In these three years living with him he had never told them that he loved them but Jace thought that he should at least care a little about them because otherwise he could have let the authorities take them to the community orphanage instead of taking care of them.

"I told you, an idiot," Jace said, managing to get a small laugh out of Lucerys. "Listen, Luke. Everything will be fine. You never asked for a tessera so your name is only on four pieces of paper."

In the first year when you started to be part of the Reaping, they put your name only once in the bowl. But every time you have a birthday they add another paper with your name on it. If you do not ask for any tessera then it is assumed that you will reach the age of eighteen with only seven papers.

Jacaerys always tried to reassure his brother, and also himself, saying that the chances of his name coming up were low compared to all the people who had to ask for tesserae to be able to eat.

"Lucerys, Jacaerys, start getting ready for the Reaping" Larys ordered from below. There was no need for him to shout as the house was silent.

"Take a bath, you stink" Jacaerys mocked, ruffling Lucerys's hair before leaving him in the bathroom.

"Happy Hunger Games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!" greeted Effie Trinket, the District 12 companion, with the same excitement as in previous years.

While Effie gives a speech about what an honor it is for her to be there as a companion, Jacaerys's eyes meet Baela's. She smiles at him and he struggles to return it. Baela is so brave, he doesn't know how she isn't trembling with fear knowing that her name is at least twenty times. Maybe in recent years she was no longer asking for tesserae but before Jacaerys moved in with his uncle she had.

"Ladies first!" said Effie announcing that it was time for the drawing. She approaches the urn with the girls' names and then reaches deep inside and takes out a piece of paper. You can feel the tension in the air and for a moment everyone seems to hold their breath until Effie opens the paper and I read it "Y/n Y/l!"

Shit. Jacaerys knew you. He had seen you more than once at the bakery when he went to buy or exchange his merchandise with your father. Not only that but you two share classes together at school. You weren't friends. But you were still there for his brothers when he was too devastated by the death of his father to care about anyone else. You were the one who stopped some idiots from bothering Luke at school, you were the one who helped Joffrey with his homework to prevent him from repeating a grade, and you, in the only conversation you ever shared, reminded him that he was important to the District, that his brothers needed him, that he could not abandon them, that his father would not have wanted to see him as a ghost in life, that he would have wanted him to help the people of the District.

Jace had to go say goodbye to you, his gratitude may be three years late but he needed to thank you for taking care of his brothers when he had failed them and remind him that he had a purpose.

Jacaerys watches you move towards the stage. Your posture is straight, your chin up and your steps are firm but he can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You still look pretty in your pink dress, it wasn't glamorous at all—no one in the district wears glamorous clothes—but in his eyes, you stood out. It's probably because, unlike other girls in the district, your clothes didn't hang off and your bones didn't show, you didn't look like someone who was malnourished.

Maybe with your beauty and if you had a good interview you could get lucky and captivate a sponsor, he thought. He hoped that this year his uncle would try even harder to bring home a winner.

Once you are on stage Effie asks for volunteers. Of course, no one offers.

“Now it's time to meet our male tribute!” Effie announces, rushing to the boys' urn and pulling out the first piece of paper she sees, “Lucerys Strong!”

This must be a nightmare, Jacaerys thought. They were supposed to be safe, they had never asked for tesserae. He was snapped out of his stupor by hearing Joffrey's desperate cries calling for Luke as his brother began to walk with fear and tears in his eyes to the stage. Jace didn't even think about it, he broke out of his formation and started running after Lucerys.

“I'm a volunteer!” he shouted when the peacekeepers grabbed him, wanting to take him away from Lucerys. “I volunteered as a tribute!” he repeated, standing up straight, once they released him.

"Magnificent!" Effie exclaimed, happy because there was finally some action in the District. "But you are supposed to present the winner of the reaping first and then ask for volunteers…"

"Just let him up," the mayor interrupted her sharply, clearly upset by the situation. He knew Jacaerys because he always bought strawberries from him and Baela.

“No, Jace!” Lucerys said with a trembling voice, still shaking her head. “You can't!”

“Go to Joffrey” the eldest brother ordered firmly, he wanted to hug Luke but he was afraid that if he did he would also start crying and he couldn't do it knowing that the cameras were filming everything. He couldn't appear weak. “Go,” he repeated, pushing him aside and heading to the stage without looking back.

Jacaerys' brown eyes meet yours and the heaviness in his stomach increases. He would have to kill you if he wanted to come home, you, the person who pushed him to move forward after her father's death. He had never thanked you and much less would he do so now knowing that in a few days, he may be the one who ended up killing you. Obviously, luck was not on his side but if you died he really hoped that it would be another of the tributes who would end up taking your life. If it became him and he managed to win the games, Jacaerys was sure that there would not be a day in which he would not think of you.

"Wonderful!" Effie exclaimed once the young man finished climbing the stairs. "What's your name?"

"Jacaerys Strong," he answered.

"I'll bet my shoes he was your brother. You didn't want him to steal your glory, did you?" The companion's smile disappeared before the furious looks of the victor and the tributes. "Good! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!"

But no one applauds. The entire District demonstrates its disagreement with its silence. Not only that, but many people begin to bring the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then point them at Jacaerys. He looks shocked as they give him that gesture. It was not a common thing to be used in the District but every once in a while, someone would do it during funerals. It was a gesture of giving thanks, of admiration, of farewell to a loved one. The same gesture they had made at his father's funeral. Jacaerys feels a lump form in his throat. He can't help but look at you, this was thanks to you, if you hadn't reminded him that the District needed him like they needed his dad then maybe he would have continued in silence staring into nothingness, living mechanically instead of starting to help people like his dad used to do.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason. Once he finishes he instructs you and Jace to shake hands. Jacaerys notices that your hand is a little smaller than his and he feels warm against hiss. You catch him off guard when you squeeze his hand as if to encourage him. He returns the gesture even though he knows he shouldn't, it wasn't the time to become friends.

Tag: @valeskafics @agqrtz

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ilovemesomevincentprice · 11 months

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moonit3 · 5 months

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Can I get a uhhhhh dragon yandere (it's ok if u don't btw!! I just love getting presents and the unusual)

yes, you can get a yandere dragon, anon.

WARMTHLESS

➥ warnings/notices: yandere male, obsession, manipulation, kidnapping, forced relationship, age gab (like the dragon is imortal and reader is a young adult), there is a child here, gn! reader, readers uses a cane later in the story, implied violence, implied death.

➥ yandere! dragon x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: the great dragon of the south never expected to become a caretaker of a human child, but luckily he has someone to help him with the task.

➥ a/n: did I love writing this one? yes. however, be warned that it takes a while to the yandere show up his tendencies as I try to make this one feel more ‘realistic’, to make the dragon slowly fall in love with reader with everything going on with their lifes. also, be aware this is quite long.

the great dragon of the south always lived by himself since the beginning of humanity. staying by his own lair on the coldest mountains, he spend most of his cleaning his treasures and watching the humans from a village nearby the mountains.

it’s a lonely life, but that was dragon made for, to live by themself til one day their bodies stop working and then to ascend to the afterlife. that’s what oberon’s ancestors told him, he is destined to be a lonely dragon til his last breath on earth, but that changed after a day.

during the coldest winter that passed in earth, oberon was waking throughout the abandoned path once used by merchants and to his surprise, he finds a human shelter. it’s destroyed, corpses are everywhere and so is blood. what did happened here? it couldn’t be simply raiders who attacked, the marks on the now dead bodies shows sharp claws and the scene is too messy to be made by humans.

his eyes notice one the tents moving, so he steps closer to see what is inside and he made a great discovery. a baby.

“oh, a tiny human.” shaping into his human form, oberon hold the children into his arms as gently as possible and analyze the little one. few drops of blood in their face and despite everything, they aren’t crying like he thought they would. “a brave one, i see…”

the first thing that came to his head was going to village nearby and hand the child to the people there, hoping to find a living relative to raise them. however, there is too much snow for him to travel and using his dragon form is out of question, it would only scary the villagers. so another idea came to his mind, he would take care of the child in meanwhile until the weather changes for good.

inside his lair, the great dragon managed to make a makeshift bed for the tiny human made of old vests and fur of ancient animals he once hunted for fun. despite not being the most appropriate place to a baby rest, the little one probably found to be comfortable as their eyes closed in seconds, leaving oberon alone with his thoughts.

why would an expedition bring a baby with them? any human should know how the cold mountains aren’t a suitable place for a newborn, but he can’t ask it as the child’s probably parents are dead, meaning that he will have to go the humans’ village soon.

the next morning, before the sun raise on the sky, oberon put the heaviest coat to cover his human form and the little one who rest on a handmade baby sling on his chest. with that, he began walking down the mountain and sing a sweet melody to the child stay calm during the trip, it’s working as the two made their way to the village.

step by the step and a three hours late, oberon arrived at the small village after a snowstorm had calm a little, luckily no house or building seems to be torn apart. and pulling the hood down, the baby awake by the soft light of the sun and their giggles made the dragon smile as both approach the closest house.

he knocks at the door and someone opens it quickly, “oh my! what are you doing in a weather like this? please, come in.” oberon enters the tiny house and takes off the hoodie when the door closed behind him. “take a cup of tea, dear traveler.”

the dragon observes how small is the house. the bed serves the same purpose of a couch to watch the fireplace and the only walls inside are the one to separe the bathroom from the rest of the home. it’s so small, but it’s fit a human to live in comfort on their own.

“thank you for let us in.” oberon sit on the edge of the bed, carefully holding the baby and put them to rest on the warm blankets. with his hands now free, he removes his heavy coat and grab a cup of tea to take a sip from it. “may I ask if you have anything to feed a child? if that isn’t too much to ask, my fruits are long gone to the child’s belly.”

“I do have some berries,” the gentle voice of the human make oberon smile, this person simply didn’t notice the horns on his head or they just don’t care at all? “and I think that I might have some strawberries that I brought some days ago…”

as you search for the fruits, oberon analysis the interior of the house. there are a few portraits on the walls, photos that include you with other people he believes to be your family. it’s something that oberon envy from most humans, they can have family and relationships without worrying about immortality, as they live together til the end. while dragons get to live forever with one at their side.

“here I found some, mr…”

“oberon, just oberon.”

a small basket of fruits is now at his side, waiting to be eaten by the time when the child wakes up later. for now, the two share true same roof til the snowstorm ends and for what it’s look, they will have to be together for a while.

“so, why did you came to the village? the snowstorm won’t stop anytime soon and bringing a child so young isn’t the best idea.” the human pour another cup of tea to the dragon before taking a seat on a close chair to take a better look at the baby. “this child isn’t your, am i right?”

“indeed. i found them at destroyed campsite at the mountains, their parents are long gone.” the smile on the human’s face vanish by his words, sad about the true reality of the baby’s parents. “i would take care of the child on my own, but i lack the ability to raise them as I don’t know to take care of another living being.”

oberon felt guilty for what he is going to say next, but he has too. “could you help me raise them? just for a brief amount of time and then i can leave afterwards.”

the humans stay quiet, taking about the proposal gave by the dragon, unaware of his true intentions, “well, it’s sound a good deal.” a smile grown on their lips, a tint red on their cheeks of the idea of getting close to the mysterious man.

“then it’s a deal, mx…?”

“call me [name] and you are?”

“oberon, just oberon.”

times goes on as oberon began to raise the little girl at your side, feeling happy knowing that you let stay at your home without expecting anything in return. it’s a generous act and the dragon knows that not many people would be as nice as you, so he makes sure to keep his value at your small house.

you continue doing the hard work such as cutting the wood for the fireplace to keep the house warm, fishing at the frozen river, going for the market to exchange your products to supplies for the cold winter, that’s your role in the house. while oberon become the main caregiver for the young girl, learning how to take of a baby who always need his attention, changing diapers and teaching her the old tales of mythological creatures he once meet in his dragon form.

life is going smooth, oberon can’t deny that. having someone to help him raise a human kid in an environment with other children sounds better than raising it at his lair, where no one would know their presence. but this life isn’t going too good for you, he can see the dark circles growing under your eyes for working long hours and he notice how sometimes the money wasn’t enough to cover the food, so you would just starve yourself to let him and the child eat. an generous, but foolish act as he doesn’t need to eat as much human does.

“you should eat more, oberon.” that you always say to him every time you give your barely touched plate of food to him. “taking care of a child on your own requires more energy than fishing.”

he tries to talk about it with you, but Oberon always lose the discussion as you give that sweet smile to him. the same smile you have when playing with the child after a long day of working, the very same smile that he has seeing for the last two years. you have endure so much because of him and the kid, oberon feels guilty about it. he sees himself as a failure for not giving or making your life easier, maybe things will change for good when the three of you start living at his lair back at the mountains.

it was another day of work for you and definitely it was exhausting as there war almost nothing that you fished today. the villagers didn’t brought any the tiny fishes you offered, but they felt compassion knowing that you are the sole provider of the house, so they handed you the food they didn’t sell. it was a great gift as you won’t ever forget about it.

going back to your home, you’ve expected to be welcome by the child’s hugs and oberon’s sweet words, asking about your work. however, that didn’t happened. walls empty of the many family’s portraits, the clothes oberon sewed missing, food is gone and the worse, none of them are here. almost like they were nothing, but hallucinations.

you yelled their name, searching the surrounding area of the cabin as the snow gets heavier and the wind colder. there are no footprints of them, no trace of they could’ve been, perhaps your mind is playing tricks. if so, how can you stop it and how can you find the two most important people of your life?

the idea of them simply vanish made you uncomfortable, made you cry in the middle of the snow and scream of frustration. things got worse and you have no idea of to fix it. but a thought came to mind, maybe they went to the village to buy firewood when you were out.

the small chance of seeing them made you get up from the cold snow and clean the tears away from face, ready to go back to the village and ask the others.

unfortunately that never happened.

claws met your shoulder and in a blink of eyes, a dragon began to fly away from your cabin. his wing flapping and creating strong winds as you desperately try to get away from it. you try to yell for help, but the dragon was too high in the sky to anyone hear you scream and no one would be a fool to help you in this situation. so you had no other option than just stay still and hope for the creature don’t drop you. the high ground made you dizzy and without option, your eyes closed by the moment you saw the clouds.

above the clouds and hide from danger, there is a lair of the great dragon do the south. he lives there’s along with two another people and those are his most important treasures, ones that he will never let it go.

the travelers brave enough to climb up there to exchange good with oberon, report the two people living with him are completely opposite.

the oldest, the spouse, always wearing the same expression in the face of tiredness. they use a cane to walk around the lair (now transformed into a cozy home) and some more aware travelers could see the scar on the spouse’s leg. it’s huge, definitely the reason why they need to use a cane to move.

some ask how them how was the accident, curious about the reason behind it. the spouse always replied there was a slippery ice that resulted in them becoming this way, yet some travelers doubt that by seeing fear in their eyes when answering it the dragon is always watching them talking with outsiders, but none pushed forward to know the truth.

and the second treasure is his daughter. an energetic and intelligent girl who is always reading about the world outside, dreaming to go out and explore the many places from the books she have read. her eyes sparkle whatever a traveler tell about the magnificent places she could visit when getting older and she is always writing in her journals about it.

and that’s what she did. finally of age, the little girl now grown as a smart and kind lady left the lair to adventure herself into the unknown. she doesn’t forget about to send magic letters (that literally just spawn at the lair) to her parents, telling about the world and the numerous cultures she has learned.

it’s great to know their daughter is doing okay, but for the great dragon, something is missing of the lair. it’s the silence that irritates him, the lack of a reason behind those make his spouse act happy and joyful with him and the fact they are begging to see the outside world again. it’s been years since the dragon let them walk at the mountain’s feet and the last time they did, the human tried something idiot and got to use the cane for their rest of their life.

they began to make him angry, always asking to be outside for just a little and they won’t stop talking about it! the dragon wanted to keep them occupied to ever think about it and so he found a way to chain them inside the lair once again.

one day, returning to the lair after flying around the southern region, the dragon brought someone else in his arms, a baby. the view of a small figure in the arms of their husband made the human just stare at it, fully scared to ask why there is blood on the child’s face, but brave enough to ask why he brought a kid to the lair.

“it’s our second born, my dear.” what? “you looked so sad after our daughter left, so I believe that being parents once again will make us happier, closer and of course, you will stop nagging about brainless things of going outside. now, you should give our baby a bath, right? I will make dinner for the three of us.”

@moonit3 writings

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