#he’s also not likely to be the third head of the dragon but I don’t want to get into that today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jhuzen · 9 months

Text

work for it [m.reader]

THIRD ONE FOR MY COMPENSATION GOOD GOD. anyway this one ain’t genshin as you can see. this is in celebration of imbibitor lunae, as your numero uno whore, i oFFER ANOTHER QUICKIE, really this took me 30 minutes because i’m so horny after kazuha and neuvillette. loosely based on this brainrot this anon and i fucking convulsed over. you’re also getting a full fic one day IL anon *kissy kiss*,

𖦹 nsfw, dan heng has two cocks, needy dan heng/feng, he’s a little pillow princess and i hate it, desperation, top male reader (tho switch implied)

“So needy…”

Your words were sending him into overdrive, his mind could barely comprehend a single thought that went through him. At this point the only thing Dan Heng could ever make out, though faintly, was the fact that it feels good, and that you were doing him so well.

You took the backseat momentarily. You had greatly underestimated what it meant for your majestic stoic lover to suddenly transform into what seems to be a very… ancient race of draconic humans. A Vidya— whatever.

And to even say that you had greatly underestimated him, would be an understatement in of itself. Because suddenly, your standoffish Dan Heng, whom you’ve clung onto relentlessly (bothering him to no ends that it even frightened Welt, the most patient man in the Express, about how well you’re truly testing Dan Heng’s patience), was suddenly the one clinging to you.

Though it wasn’t overt, but everyone in the Express sees it. Whenever March would pass by with Caelus, whenever Himeko looked up from her possibly fifth coffee for the day, whenever Welt would come to ask something — they could all see how tightly wrapped that long tail of his around your body.

It started off with the familiar subtlety, akin to his very ghostly kisses whenever he’d accidentally dip his head to grab a book from behind you. His tail would wrap around your leg. And as days go by, that very tail would increasingly become much higher, first around your shin, then to your knee, then to your thigh. Until it reached its rightful place, with a tail constantly curled around your waist like a persistent snake.

Don’t even get started on the nights.

Either way — the bottom line in the Express, is that dragons will remain relatively protective across all worlds. The premise is the same. They are the same creatures that look after what they own, protective — even jealous to a fault. Though, to his credit, Dan Heng was able to keep everything within the lines of sheer subtlety. He knew how and when to tone it down, courtesy of his relatively calm life before… his revelation as the high elder of his very… majestic species.

Though, as it stands, it seems that his looming presence and consistent insinuation that you were his wasn’t the only thing that amped up.

And tonight, you’ve truly admitted defeat to the stamina monster that was your draconic lover.

Dan Heng as the Imbibitor Lunae was someone you can only call an insatiable first timer.

He was meek as he relished in your kisses, whimpering and shaking like a frightened prey as he continued to indulge in such affections that you openly showed him. He was helpless in your grasp, only letting out the neediest whines as he continued to try and cover himself despite the fact your hand was already on his fascinating cocks, protruding and standing proud under your sensual touches. Your fingers covered in his previous release as you continued to pump your hand, easily engulfing his shafts that twitched under your grip.

Dan Heng could only writhe as pleasure racked through every inch of his quivering body. And oh, the way you mouth at his sensitive nipples, sucking on them as if your life depended on it, it was enough to leave his mind in complete shambles.

His cries echoed through the room and if anyone could listen, they’d be certain to hear the intimate bliss within the tone of his sweet moans and gasps.

And even you had to share the sheer pleasure as you sunk into him, you watched yourself get swallowed whole by his entrance, and little by little you could feel just how warm his tight walls were, soft and tender, absolutely drenched just from your ministrations.

Within the lusty haze your mind drowned in, you promised yourself to get in a couple of rounds until Dan Heng pleads for no more.

You were the first to tap out.

It could have been the sixth or fifth, but you were done, your body ached for some rest and yet your pretty pillow prince absolutely refused to let you go, with his possessive tail cuffing you into him, letting you continue on with your plans to fucking him into oblivion.

It’s not that you can’t cum anymore, the erotic sight of your lover can keep you going. But the rest of your body that is somehow not your dick cannot keep up with the endless demands. So you figured you’d withdraw the spoiling for now and let Dan Heng work for his next few orgasms while you sit back and relax.

Which leads to the present — you watching in genuine fascination as your poor dragon sobbed and pleaded for you to switch places for him.

“Oh, you do not know how to ride at all.” Your admonishing came out in a purr and you could feel him clench around your cock as he continued to sloppily ride you with the gusto of an inexperienced virgin. And you loved it. There was a certain charm to Dan Heng’s neediness crossing with his absolute ineptness in even finding the right place to hit even with your own throbbing length under his mercy.

Dan Heng was an inexplicable mess, his long hair completely sprawled out through his creamy skin that was laced with a sheen of sweat. Pitiful tears adorned his luminescent eyes that glowed with so much desperation for you. His bottom lip bled with how many times he chewed on it every time he thought he’d reach his climax, only to completely fall flat when he would freeze up and lose the momentum and friction.

“Come on now, love, you’ve done so much~ surely this is a walk in the park for you,” you jested with a teasing grin, a hand interlocked with his and he squeezed yours tight as he started over again — another agonizing round that he cannot cum over.

“P-Please, switch… switch w-with me, I-I need you…” he begged, sobbed even with crocodile tears and all. He placed his hands on your chest, propping himself up, trembling. His nails dug into your flesh as he continued to plead for you while he bobbed his hips up and down in such a sloppy manner.

A smirk graced your lips as you took his hand, pressing the softest and sweetest kisses on his palm and on his knuckles, looking at his eyes that brimmed with more tears with your half-lidded ones.

“But I’m all tuckered out, baby,” you murmured into the palm of his hands, lips trailing into his fingertips with more kisses. “Think after this, we can call it a day?” You prodded with a teasing tone and in an instant, you could feel his walls clench tighter around your cock, an act of defiance, a complete refusal to your tiny suggestion.

“N-No—! W-Want more… I need more…” Dan Heng’s pleas reached your ears like an angel’s cry and you indulged in it.

Your hand found his shafts quick, expertly rubbing through his cocks that throbbed within your ministrations, “Surely this is enough then? You just need to cum, right?” You taunted with a sly grin as you lazily pumped your hand around him.

It would’ve been enough, for anybody.

But not your pillow prince. Dan Heng’s hand quickly grabbed your wrist, stopping your movement. He softly groaned as he fully sat on your lap, your cock buried to the hilt inside him. He shook his head with a vehement rejection, he looked at you with aching need, his hips squirming on yours from feeling so stuffed up.

“N-No…”

“No? But I thought—”

A sob tore from his throat as Dan Heng leaned down, his nose on the crook of your neck, “No,” he parroted with a pitiful yet so very adorable sniffle. “‘S not enough.”

“Not enough?” You parroted with a fake frown.

“Not enough…” He whined. While the tempting bliss of cumming just with your skillful hands was all the more inviting, it didn’t feel right.

It could never feel right if he came without you balls deep inside him. He wanted to feel more of the warmth that you offered every time you painted his walls white, he craved the very sensation of you flooding him with little to no regard for anything else — just breeding him until he somehow magically bends the biological process of a Vidyadhara and gets to carry your children.

You cooed softly, placing a hand on his head and bringing it down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead. He preened at the soft affection as he melted in your touch.

“Such a needy dragon you are,” you laughed before pulling out and swiftly switching positions.

Dan Heng laid on his back, shivering in anticipation while you positioned yourself in between his quivering thighs. Your lips couldn’t help but curl up in smug satisfaction as he looked at you with a feral need to be bred by you, and yet, he only laid there with the expectation that you’ll do most of the work again.

Of course, that wouldn’t do.

You crawled up to him, length brushing against his clenching rim with such demand. You caged him in your arms as you tilted your head with the ever-so present smirk on your pretty face.

“I’m still all too tired, love,” your words caught him off guard, “You gotta help me out a little here.”

His wide-eyed innocence was torturously delectable. Your hand slid down to grip onto the meat of his thighs, raising it up, “Hold yourself up for me, pretty please?” You pleaded with a charming smile, earning yourself an all too eager nod from your draconic lover.

You could only pull back with a satisfied smile as Dan Heng held his legs spread open for you, his fingers digging into his own flesh with such visceral need and he could only look up at you pleadingly.

“P-Please…”

Lining yourself up, you watched your own cock sink into Dan Heng’s quivering hole with such ease, a soft sigh escapes your lips contrasting a rather deep cry from him. He jolted as you bottomed out and magically managed to hit that sweet, sweet spot of his with so much ease.

His hands that held up his legs almost gave out, his back arching with the raw pleasure that you brought.

Before he could even beg you to move, your hips drew back and snapped back into him. Your thrusts were merciless, leaving no room for your spoiled beloved to complain. You could only indulge in his soft cries that reverberated through the room and the sinful sounds of your skin slapping against each other with every decisive thrust that you made.

Dan Heng was sure to reach the high heavens with the very feeling that you brought inside him, his walls tightening up against you with so much need.

A strangled gasp weaseled out of Dan Heng’s drying throat as you leaned down to mouth at his already sensitive buds, your teeth and tongue in pursuit of relentlessly assaulting his poor chest with every suckle and bite until they were too sensitive for anything.

“H-Hah—! N-No more—!” He whimpered, as his hands left his thighs, clutching onto your hands that sunk into the dip of his narrow waist. “T-Too fast…!”

His complaints only spurred you further to keep doing so, sounding more like an encouragement as your hips continued to move and push into him, with the carnal need to just make him feel every inch of your cock. Tears spilled from Dan Heng’s eyes, and he could only gasp out your name as the highest pleasure engulfed his body.

Thin ropes of cum spurts out of his cocks as you pushed out another orgasm from him, you following closely as you filled him up with so much of yours.

An exhausted sigh leaves you, groaning as you fell into Dan Heng, “Next time, you’re doing all the work.”

Dan Heng only blinked, “What do y—gck…!” He jolted as your hand grasped on his cocks with a lazy smile.

“It’s two for one, at least let me experience a good bargain for once in my life.”

Your words only left him breathless and eager.

#and that’s the end of my horniness #for now #YES THAT IS HIS LIGHTCONE ON THE PIC #YES THAT IS HIS BOOBA #dan heng il come to me my love i am ready to cash all my life savings for you #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #dan heng x male reader #dan heng il x male reader #imbibitor lunae x male reader #sub hsr #jhuzen’s stupid one shots #jhuzen’s shameless filth

2K notes · View notes

ryker-writes · 1 year

Note

Can I request form leaders with an mc who bites people out of love?

I do that i lot of times lmao, it entering seeing their reaction sometimes

Of course! I get the urge to just do that too sometimes-

Also posting this one from my phone instead of my usual computer so I hope everything looks fine

Request rules and Masterlists

Riddle:

confused

his first instinct is off with your head but he refrains

he is very red

you need to explain yourself immediately

if you don't it will be off with your head

when you do explain he's still confused

biting out of love?

he's never heard of such a thing

he will come to accept it with a lot of time but he'll tell you to maybe not bite him when others are around

he just get's so embarrassed if others see it

Will eventually calm down and accept it is you bite him without others round

Leona:

you're playing a dangerous game here

you biting him means he has the right to bite you back

and he will

be careful because he has sharp teeth

he doesn't even question it he just already knows why

he really doesn't mind it

so what if people see you bite him?

you do it out of love so there's no reason to hide it

he's actually pretty smug about it

Azul:

he's broken

wh-why did you bite him????

he's more red than Riddle

Demands and explanation

Love? You bite people out of love?

He’s pretty sure humans don’t usually do this

Like Riddle, he doesn’t want you to do it when others around

While he will be hesitant about you doing it at all, he’s willing to accept it if no one sees

But he’s going to die of embarrassment every time regardless if people see or not

If people do see he’s going to flee and want to crawl into his octo-pot

Kalim:

huh?

he doesn't even understand what happened but he's very calm about it

You bit him? Okay. Why?

Very calm about it all

When you tell him that you bit him out of love, he’s super excited about it

That’s so sweet!

Expect him to start biting too at random times

When Kalim sees you he’s just so happy and he cares about you so much that he just starts walking up and biting you

Jamil is so confused

Kalim might start biting other people he loves too so…

Vil:

first of all, how dare you

Don’t you know it’s rude to bite people?

It’s animal-like

At first he thinks he needs to teach you how to behave around others

But then you tell him that you do it out of love and he’s conflicted

He appreciates your love but he can’t just have you biting him all the time

Perhaps there’s another way you can show your love?

If not he will accept the biting on a few conditions

First, you can not bite him when others are around and you two are completely alone in a room

He will not risk other people seeing or taking photos/videos

Second, you can’t bite him hard enough to leave a mark on his skin

Third, you can only bite spots on him that are pre-approved by him

As long as you follow these rules, he doesn’t mind it as much

Idia:

he's broken #2

Idia.exe has stopped working

as soon as you bite him he can't move or say anything

he's completely frozen

This is so much like this one anime he saw-

He’s so flustered

I’m sorry but he won’t be able to function anywhere near you for the next 2-3 business days

What was that?

Are you some sort of cannibal and he’s your next target?

Did he upset you some how and you were taking your rage out on him?

Eventually may send you a message that asks why you bit him

When you tell him it was out of love he’s broken again

You have to wait another 2-3 business days to hear from Idia again

He will accept it but will be embarrassed and freak out every single time

Not worried about you doing it near people since he’s rarely around other people anyway

Malleus:

w h a t

he's so lost

why are you biting him?

did he do something to offend you?

Do you feel threatened or attacked?

Whatever he’s done he hopes you can forgive him

But why do you bite and then smile at him?

He will calmly ask you why you just bit him

You do it out of love?

He’s now a very happy dragon

He assumes it’s a normal human thing he was unaware of

…this leads to him asking Silver why he never bites anyone

After finding out that it’s out of love, he accepts and loves whenever you bite him

He won’t be ashamed at all even if it’s in front of others

In fact, he kinda wants other people to see so they know just how much you care about him

Malleus wishes he could return the affection but he doesn’t want to bite you in fear of hurting you

His teeth are sharp and he often doesn’t know his own strength so he may bite to hard and accidentally hurt you

He would feel so bad if that happened

Do not let Sebek see you bite Malleus under any circumstances

That’s basically asking him to freak out and yell at you for hours

If Sebek sees Malleus accept it tho…he’s dying on the inside and you can see him struggle not to say anything in real time

Note: does Azul taste like octopus? Let me know...for science...

2K notes · View notes

zhongrin · 1 year

Text

hold you close to my heart

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, xiao, al haitham, thoma, scaramouche

◇ tags ◇ modern!au, gn!reader, fluff, headcanon format

◇ a/n ◇ zhongli is ngl acting like an asian mom in this and i am not sorry. i need him in my life bc i hate fishbone (the number of times i've had a fishbone stuck in my throat- you don't want to know. let's just say pressing down my gag reflex is one of my talents now) and peeling shrimps.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

tries to be as quiet as possible as he shuffles around the house while you’re asleep.

peels fruits for you.

will care for your hair for you (brushes / applies oil / braids)

debones any sort of meat-with-bone/shell dishes, including fishes and crustaceans for you (this might be the ultimate expression of zhongli’s love considering how much he hates the smell of seafood).

will not hesitate to spoonfeed you when your hands are occupied or if you’re forgetting to eat.

“zhongli do you know where did i put my shawl-” “second drawer, right side.” “and my dragon-printed socks-” “-is in the sock box on the third drawer, you probably missed it.”

will threaten people who wronged you with a sandal in his hands “i will have order!”

headpat machine - you want headpats? you’re getting headpats. you don’t want headpats? you’re getting a kiss on top of your head…… and a headpat <3

will fall into the habit of carrying tissues and hair ties and the everyday essential items which you often use.

slips his credit card into your wallet before you go out.

keeps your fridge stocked with groceries and pantry full of your favorite snacks (either by doing the shopping himself or getting them delivered to your doorstep when he can’t be around)

lets you pet the dogs you encounter on your walks first. also alerts you when there’s a cute dog in sight.

owns a special phone with the best camera in the market, just for the sake of taking your selfies.

headpat machine 2.0 - you don't want headpats? too bad you’re getting one! you want headpats? beg for it first, darling <3

buys you matching accessories. wears them everywhere and every time he’s out.

always walks on the side closer to the road. also holds your hand when crossing the street (and pretends he 'forgot' to release it afterward)

always lingers around you in social settings. not just because of his social anxiety, but also just in case you need something, he wants to be there to help.

lets you pat his head (and enjoys it immensely), but will murder-glare any other person who tries to do so (read: venti, heizou).

is only able to fall asleep in either of these conditions: 1) he is completely alone, or 2) he’s not alone but you’re with him.

piles up pillows and blankets and plushies on your (or his) bed as a silent invitation to cuddle. you tease him by saying “are you inviting me to your nest, little bird?” and he blushes every single time. it’s very adorable. please give this boy his cuddles.

corrects the typos in your papers for you. crosschecks your citations and adds comments detailing how you should add or remove certain things. he accepts payments in kisses. or super spicy curry. he’s not picky, really.

will dust your bookshelves for you (is it because he loves you or because he loves books? ….. don’t ask).

will wordlessly lift you up to cross a big puddle on the road. you only get to be bridal-carried if you're lucky. otherwise, you're getting the sack of potatoes' treatment because he's a bastard.

tells you that you have x minutes left to do certain tasks. yes, he has your schedules memorized. yes, he will flick your forehead if you keep whining and procrastinating.

will gently pull your head to settle on his shoulder when you fall asleep on the bus.

“did you cut your hair? it’s five centimeters shorter.” “you trimmed your eyebrows?” “your lips look pale today. have you eaten lunch?”

cooks and cleans for you. his payment? your awed smile. if you tip him with kisses he’ll be over the moon.

sends you daily cute animal videos. mostly dogs. or cats. or him being silly with his adorable doggie taroumaru.

will mess up on purpose just to make you laugh on your bad days.

buys everything in twos because he always, always wants to share it with you.

squishes his cheek onto yours and nuzzles you to show affection. you think you see dog ears and dog tails whenever he does this, but it's just a trick of the light... right??

refrains from drinking at parties just so that when you do, he can take care of you properly and get you back home safely.

denies your kisses in public but pulls you for a kiss every five minutes behind closed doors.

links his pinky with you when walking together (but on his bad days, he would really appreciate it when you link your arms with him).

looks so scandalized when you flinch from his touch - because somehow he’s a superconductor and most of the time you feel zapped just from touching him. just tough it out and hug him if you don’t want to deal with sulky!mouchie.

will not hesitate to try and claw people’s eyes out when they made you upset.

fills up your water bottle for you.

uses the same laundry detergent / perfume as yours. claims that he does it so you “won’t complain about how your clothes smell weird” when you stay over. he just wants his clothes to smell more like you so he can pretend you’re hugging him when he misses you.

2K notes · View notes

dodger-chan · 3 months

Text

Based off of this idea, originating with @rogueddie (also on ao3)

Steve was looking at Eddie. He had to. There wasn’t anything else worth looking at in the theater.

That sounded weird.

Steve was looking at Eddie. Because unlike Steve, Eddie was not bored out of his skull by the music, the overacting, the complete absence of story.

That last complaint was unfair. There was a story. Eddie’d summed it up for him on the drive over. Steve just couldn’t follow the story with all the singing being in Italian. Or German. Maybe.

He’d gotten used to hearing a bunch of different languages living with Robin, and being able to tell them apart, but everything sounded different when sung. And everything was sung.

Eddie, who only spoke English and nerd, didn’t seem to have any trouble following the opera. Or if he wasn’t following it, he didn’t care. He was clearly having the time of his life, his joy reflected in the smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

So yeah, Steve was looking at Eddie.

Steve looked away quickly when the music stopped and the lights went up. It would be weird if Eddie caught him staring.

“Is it over?” he asked hopefully. It sure felt like they’d been sitting there for several hours.

“It’s intermission.” Right. Halftime. Or, no, the program said there were two intermissions. So one third of the way. “You’re not enjoying it?”

“It’s not my thing, but it isn’t so bad.” Steve lied. He could get through this. He’d survived worse.

It was a good thing no one had told the Russians about Wagner.

“Want to walk around for a bit? Stretch our legs?”

----

Walking around made Steve feel like he was doing something. Something other than staring at Eddie. Though with Eddie bouncing on his toes and excited hand gestures as he gushed about what they’d just seen Steve couldn’t keep from staring a little.

“Is this your first opera?” An older woman in evening wear asked Eddie. She was smiling kindly, but Steve knew how fake those kind smiles could be. He took note of the wrinkles around her eyes, the graying roots of her hair, any flaws she might be sensitive to, in case she was about to bring up the worn knee in Eddie’s best jeans.

Not everyone could afford a tux like her escort.

“Second, actually. Steve and I saw Don Giovanni here about four, five months ago.” That had been boring, too. But Eddie had loved it, even though he’d been a little embarrassed at enjoying a snobby, rich person kind of thing. So Steve had bought tickets to another opera as soon as he’d saved up enough for two. “I’ve heard Tristan und Isolde before, but it’s different live.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

And then the two of them started talking way, way above Steve’s head, with musical terms he’d have sworn were made up. Like, harmonic was a music thing, sure, but suspension had to do with cars.

It was so much like when Dustin and Eddie talked about Dungeons and Dragons that Steve had to smile.

“And they’re off.” The woman’s escort was smiling, too. He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “C’mon. Let’s you and I get drinks while my wife and your boyfriend talk shop.”

Steve took three full steps before the words sank in.

“Shit,” he breathed. That was why he’d spent months setting aside money for opera tickets. And why he’d needed two. And why he’d spent all of act one entertaining himself with Eddie’s facial expressions. He was in love with Eddie.

Steve turned around.

“I’m very sorry,” he interrupted the woman. He was a little sorry; Eddie seemed to be enjoying her conversation. “I need to borrow this guy for ten seconds.”

“What the hell?” Eddie asked as Steve pulled him away from any potential eavesdroppers.

“Do you want this to be a date?”

“Um, what?”

“Tonight. This. A date.” Maybe Steve wasn’t making a lot of sense. He tried again. “That woman you were talking to, her husband called you my boyfriend-”

“Oh, shit, Steve, I’m sorry- '' Eddie started.

“Don’t be. Unless, you don’t want to be. My boyfriend, that is.” Steve looked directly into Eddie’s eyes. “Because I’d really like it if you’d be my boyfriend.”

“I’d like that, too.”

They couldn’t kiss in such a public place. But once they were back in their seats and the lights went down, no one would be able to see if they were holding hands.

Steve was suddenly looking forward to act two.

#steddie #short ficlet #my fic #stranger things #i couldn't work on what i was supposed to work on #so have this instead #happy valentine's day i guess?

166 notes · View notes

steddieasitgoes · 5 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 5 Prompt: Grinch vs Christmas Cheer

Tags: Modern AU, Eddie Munson & Jeff, Steve & Eddie Are Neighbors, Teacher Steve, Meet Cute

wc: 1863 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“I thought you said you talked to them?” Eddie groans. He tips his head so far back he wobbles in the chair for a moment before he rights himself and buries his head in his hands. “I can’t work under these conditions!”

“I don’t think planning a campaign counts as working,” Jeff teases.

They’re in their apartment kitchen. Jeff cooking something that smells a hundred times better than the vending machine sandwich he had for lunch at the shop. Free from his day job, Eddie’s working on something he actually cares about now. The latest Dungeons & Dragons handbook is open to a random page while his trusty notebook sits open. There’s no use in hiding it from Jeff. It’s not like he could decipher Eddie’s chicken scratch penmanship anyway.

Besides, he hasn’t gotten much of anything done since he plopped down on the worn leather chair. It’s hard to work with the blaring sound of Mariah fucking Carey’s Christmas album playing on repeat for the third day straight coming from their neighbor's apartment. The obnoxious whirling of the fans keeping a dozen or so Christmas inflatables blown up on their shared stairwell and balcony also doesn’t help.

If this continues any longer, Eddie swears he’s going to find them a new place to live. The peace and quiet would be worth losing out on their rent-controlled place. At least, Eddie thinks so. Christ, he misses the Richards who moved last year. He’d take their scowls and snide comments over this Christmas madness any day.

“It absolutely counts as working,” Eddie scoffs, shooting a glare in Jeff’s direction. “And don’t change the subject, Jefferson. Did you even talk to Mr. and Mrs. Claus next door?”

Jeff snorts, shaking his head before returning to the pot of sauce he has simmering. “No, I didn’t and I’m not going to.”

“Jeff!” Eddie whines. “Your job as the approachable one of this house is to confront our neighbors when they’re annoying us.”

“Okay, but they’re not annoying me.”

“Well, that’s a lie. You hate Michael Buble as much as I do and I know you heard his stupid crooning voice at seven this morning like I did.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Jeff sighs, turning away from the stove to face Eddie. “But I can’t tell them to lower their music! Not when they haven’t complained once about the shit you blare at all hours of the night or our Corroded practices when we have nowhere else to go.”

If Eddie was less stubborn, maybe he’d see that Jeff has a point. But he is stubborn, so he doubles down instead.

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

“Fine,” Eddie shouts, throwing his hands up in defeat. The headache festering behind is eyes is too painful for him to keep arguing with Jeff. Besides, he’s never been able to push Jeff around. It’s why they make such good roommates. “Can you at least talk to them about their decorating habits then? I had to wade through a fucking forest of inflatables this afternoon. M’pretty sure Frosty the fucking Snowman almost punched my balls.”

“Eds, need I remind you that a few days ago you had the entire place decked out for Halloween? How is a few inflatables different than all those skeletons and demon shit you had up?”

“First of all, how dare you compare my artistry to whatever is going on outside,” Eddie scoffs. He’s going to give himself a sore throat if he keeps this up. “I have taste. My decorations told a story! Those inflatables aren’t even from the same properties. They’ve got Santa Mickey next to the fucking Grinch! Charlie Brown mingling with Yoda! There’s no plot!”

Jeff’s shoulders slump, forearms coming to rest on the kitchen counter so he’s at eye level with Eddie. “Just look on the bright side. At least they haven’t done one of those obnoxious light shows like that stupid reality show.”

As if Jeff accidentally summoned a demon in the form of Christmas cheer, a burst of red and green floods their apartment. Their once dimly lit kitchen looks like the inside of a club, red and green lights flickering with the occasional white and blue mixed in. The flickers are timed with the beat of another Mariah Carey Christmas song.

This is what hell must look like, Eddie thinks, as he glares at Jeff.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jeff defends, hands up in surrender.

Eddie can seem him struggling not to laugh and it takes all the energy he can muster not to reach around the counter and playfully punch his shoulder. How can Jeff think this is funny? The flickering lights completely goes against their moody aesthetic! Not to mention it’s a health hazard! There’s no way Gareth is going to be able to come over here — not with the way he’s so sensitive to strobes.

Jesus H. Christ and it’s only November 25th! He has to put up with this for weeks!

“It’s not funny, Jefferson!”

“I mean,” Jeff snorts, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile from growing. “It’s a little funny.”

🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬

The lights have not fucking stopped. Not for one single day. Eddie had hoped his neighbors would have grown tired of the constant strobing and Christmas music by now. But nope. A week and a half and its still going strong.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

“Jeff,” Eddie hisses, lifting the blanket of his makeshift fort enough that he can make eye contact with Jeff. Or at least, try to. Jeff’s perched in their recliner with the biggest pair of sunglasses Eddie’s ever seen. “Please. I can’t take much more of this!”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I might have believed you if you weren’t wearing those ridiculous things,” Eddie snorts. He waits for Jeff to retort but when he doesn’t, he groans and slowly emerges from the safety of his blanket fort. Christ he forgot how bright those damn things are.

Stalking over to their small entryway, Eddie hastily tugs on a pair of boots and reaches for the doorknob.

“What are you doing?” Jeff asks, voice laden with concern.

“Someone has to confront the neighbors!”

He doesn't give him time to respond, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him in one fluid movement. It should be a short trip to the neighbor's front door, just a few long strides, but Eddie forgets to account for the fuckton of inflatables cluttering the path. He ducks around Frosty, flipping him off when his stupid wood arms nearly deck his balls, again and forcibly shoves Mickey’s face away from him.

It takes another bit of carefully navigating before he finally reaches the front door adorned with a festive wreath. These people really left no spot undecorated. Eddie doesn’t spare them the decency of a nice, neighborly knock or ring of the doorbell. They’re way past that. Instead, he makes a fist and slams his knuckles into the wood door, and keeps going. Knock. Knock. Knockknockknock.

They probably can’t hear him over the damn music, Eddie thinks, as his knuckle turns redder and redder. Just when he’s about to retreat and face Jeff’s smug wrath, the door opens.

The first thought that passes through Eddie’s mind is oh, he’s hot. The second, more vital thought, comes a moment later. He’s going to kill Jeff. How dare he not disclose how attractive this guy is the minute he met him months ago?

The guy, who Eddie vaguely thinks is named Steve, looks just as surprised to see him as he is. Decked out in an obnoxious Santa-themed apron and green plaid flannel pants, his cheeks are spotted with flour and his hands are stained a faint red color. Judging from the delicious aroma of vanilla and peanut butter wafting into the hallway, Eddie interrupted some very serious baking.

“Oh, you’re not the Instacart shopper,” maybe Steve frowns. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh,” Eddie trails off. He’s here for a reason, he knows this, but his mind is blank. Distracted by the smells and the lights and the gorgeous fucking man standing in front of him with hazel eyes so sparkly Eddie’s pretty sure he belongs in a cartoon. “I’m Eddie, your neighbor.”

I’m Eddie, your neighbor?

This cannot be the same brain that creates intricate, plot twist-ridden campaigns that last months. Absolutely not.

“Ah, so you’re Jeff’s roommate! It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Steve.”

“Right, Steve” Eddie nods. He’s not sure why he nods, it’s not a normal thing to do when you meet someone, and yet, he can’t stop nodding. Stop fucking nodding!

“So, uh, what brings you by?” Steve asks, casually leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh, I uh…” The lights. You were coming here to complain about the lights! “I came to tell you, uh… I could smell you baking!” Oh my fucking god. “You know these walls are thin and we, uh, share AC vents or something I think? So the smell was filling our place and it smelled so good I just, uh, had to come over and see what you’re baking?”

If Jeff was here, Eddie’s pretty sure he’d be two seconds away from collapsing in a fit of laughter. Thank god he’s not. As soon as he gets back to his room, he’s going to take a lukewarm shower and try to forget this entire interaction ever happened and then hide from Steve for the rest of his life.

“Oh, I’m making peanut butter cookies.” Steve’s smile is almost as blinding as the twinkling lights and like a moth to a flame, Eddie can’t look away. “One of my students has been having a rough time and they’re their favorite.”

“Damn, maybe if I had a teacher who baked me cookies I would have done better in school.”

Steve laughs, “Tell me about it. Actually, uh, do you want to help? I’m allergic to peanut butter and my best friend is tied up at work. I could really use a taste tester. Make sure they’re edible.”

“Oh, uh…” Eddie glances over his shoulder and takes in the sight of the sea of inflatables staring at him with their beady painted on eyes, squints at the obnoxious flashing lights keeping time to a terrible cover of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Together it’s the reminder he needs as to why he trekked over here in the first place, but when he turns he’s hit with a punch of peanut butter and well… “Not to toot my own horn, but I am a pretty good taste tester.”

“Perfect,” Steve smiles, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Kitchen’s this way.”

🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬

Eddie returns an hour later. Belly full of joy just peanut butter cookies, but also chocolate chip, and gingerbread, and some cinnamon concoction that had him considering a marriage proposal on the spot and a tupperware overflowing with said cookies.

Jeff is still in the living room, sunglasses shielding his eyes, but Eddie knows him well enough to know he’s judging him.

“Don’t say a word,” Eddie sneers, heading straight for the kitchen.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fan fic #steddie fluff #steddie meet cute #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

228 notes · View notes

darkestspring · 1 year

Text

to have and to hold

a/n: my first request! im honored. this was requested by @gulnarsultan for aegon I, maegor, viserys I, baelon, aerys II, rickard stark, eddard stark as yandere spouses. thank you for all your support and love. (i did leave some out that i just wasn’t feeling like i could write)

Aegon I “The Conquerer” Targaryen

He is the definition of devoted husband. Despite you being his third wife, he adores you just the same. he spends most of his free time with you. Even if you express your distaste or concern, he showers you with endless affection and gifts. Hair pins, books, jewels. Anything your heart desires, he’ll acquire it for you.

Of course, there’s also the fact that you’re not allowed anywhere without him, Visenya, or Rhaenys. Or five guards. It’s better to pretend you aren’t aware that they’re trying to isolate you with only them to keep you company. It’s better to smile and kiss whichever spouse is accompanying you for the day and thank them.

“My heart.” He coo at you, kisses being pressed all over your face and neck. He’s as soft as a targaryen can be when he’s with you. You’re his wife, one of his loves. “I’ll burn all of westeros down if you ask it of me.” he’ll tell you late at night as you hold you in his arms. “I’ll do anything, you need only ask it.” He’ll insist and he will. He’ll give you anything you want. But don’t ask to be free. He’s your husband. You belong with him.

Maegor I “The Cruel” Targaryen

despite the fact that he already had multiple wives, he grew an instant infatuation with you and refused to accept any other outcome than to marry you. after all, what choice did they have? who would refuse a dragon?

he most likely wouldn’t wait for approval or care what anyone else thinks. he’ll marry you in the tradition of valyria with his mother as witness. what you want doesn’t necessarily matter to him. you will be his wife. you will carry his children. he’ll make it so even if he has to spend all day in bed with you.

he’s softer with you than his other wives that’s for sure. he’ll cup his face with his hands and whsiper “My wife.” before kissing you so deeply you feel like you’re drowning. You’ll always be his wife, even after his death you’ll still be his.

Viserys I “The Peaceful” Targaryen

It’s your kindness that makes him keep seeking you out. Your kindness and care towards him makes him want to be around you constantly. He’ll gift you books and scrolls on subjects you both like. He’ll gift you flowers and little trinkets. He’ll sometimes create scenarios in which you seek him out because he wishes to be around you constantly.

He’s always holding your hand, always looking at you with this lovestruck and soft look on his face. He’s not one to isolate you. You’re his wife already. His beloved queen. But in the instance that this person talks badly about you or threatens you, he’ll get rid of them with no hesitation.

When you become pregnant, he’s overjoyed. Proof of the love you both share. “My love.” He’ll let out, his hand gripping onto yours gently as you both smile. “What wonderful news. The happiest news, my darling.” Even if you die before he does, if he is forced to take another wife, he’ll always love you. He’ll consider you his only wife. His only love. The children you have together, his only children. He’ll love you even in death.

Baelon “The Brave” Targaryen

Even before he was your husband and even after, he has a tendency to not leave your side. if someone wants to find baelon, they need only to find you first. whether you’re his first or second wife, he’ll be just as devoted. He basically worships the ground you walk on and doesn’t take kindly to other talking badly about you.

He loves to lay his head in your lap and have you run his hand through his hair, it comforts him greatly. Baelon is mischievous and regarded as brave but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own mean streak. he’s capable of great cruelty to those who are a threat to you and your safety. You mean a great deal to him so he won’t allow anyone to ruin the life you both have together or your safety.

“Other half of my soul.” He’ll whisper softly as he kisses your forehead. He can’t help but want to give you the entire world. He’ll acquire things that remind him of you to gift you. the moment you’re with child, he’ll devote all of his free time to you. he’s overcome with joy. A baby! a piece of both of you. He’ll place his hand on your growing stomach and be overcome with fondness. He’ll kiss you with all the gentleness in the world. A gentleness reserved only for you.

Aerys II “The Mad King” Targaryen

In the beginning he’s very charismatic, it’s easy to forget that he refuses to let others see you. people who hold conversations with you, that get to hear your voice and see your smile, die at his hand. they don’t deserve you, he’ll tell you. you’re his wife. everything you have, everything you are, is solely his.

If you’re still alive by time he starts to go crazy, you’re the only person he’ll allow to touch him. he’ll cling to you the entire time and refuse to let go. You’re his beloved wife, the only person he’ll trust.

“please love me, don’t leave me. I beg of you.” He’ll whisper into your shoulder as he clings to you. It’s hard to remember that you’re his captive wife. That anyone who even looks at you, he’ll order dead. You don’t say an ything in return as you hold him gently.

Rickard Stark

Rickard is the definition of dutiful husband. He loves you so dearly and wants to have a peaceful life with you. He’ll have warm coats made for you so that you’ll never go cold in Winterfell. Anything you wish for, he’ll acquire. You are his wife.

Rickard’s last thought is of you, whether you are dead or alive, he thinks of you. He’s already failed you, failed his children. He just hopes justice and honor will come. He wishes to see you once more. He’ll thinks about all of the moments you have shared.

“My wolf.” Is his favorite petname, he would cup your flushed cheeks his hands and press his forehead against yours. “I’ll do anything for you. My wife. Wait for me.” It’s easy to forget that rickard’s jealousy of other men leads him to sentence them to death for smiling at you.

Eddard Stark

Eddard is a dedicated husband, he brings the definition of fuck around and find out to life. He outright won’t kill people for simply holding a conversation with his wife but if he believes they’re a threat to his wife, to her safety or to their marriage, he won’t hesitate to do what he has to, to keep his wife safe, his family safe, the north safe. You’re his wife, the only one he wants.

Eddard will show you around the north and tell you about the area, the danger, the places he likes to see. He wants to be happy there, with him. With all the children you’ll eventually have. Once jon comes into both your and his life, you comfort him, you agree to care for him. You feel slightly bad but you vow to care for him as you do your other children.

It’s devastating when he’s executed, your children try their hardest to shield you from the truth. From the schemes and manipulations of others. You try your hardest to think of what he would want in times like these. Of how he would deal with those who threaten the safety of his family. You’ll do what you must. The north always remembers.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere game of thrones #aegon targaryen x reader #maegor targaryen x reader #viserys targaryen x reader #baelon targaryen x reader #aerys ii targaryen x reader #rickard stark x reader #eddard stark x reader #yandere viserys targaryen #yandere aegon i targaryen #yandere maegor targaryen #yandere baelon targaryen #yandere aerys ii targaryen #yandere hotd #yandere got

2K notes · View notes

pianokantzart · 6 months

Note

I posted something somewhere about Papa Mario’s “these are boys” line being wholesome (and made more so because of who voices the character!) and I got some comments from people who hated the line because it was clear Pio “didn’t give a shit” about either of his sons and only accepted them once they gave him something he could brag about. In other words, he only “cares” about them when they make him look good. I don’t think this is the case, and I get the feeling you don’t either. Can you do a brief analysis on the character given what little we’ve seen of him? :)

Yep, I 100% agree with you. Mario and Luigi's dad may have his flaws, but he definitely cares about his kids.

The thing about Pio is that he strikes me as the family patriarch? At least for as long as the grandpa has been in his twilight years. Not only does Pio appear a lot more emotionally restrained than Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur, but he's bulkier and moves with a lot less pep. Either he's a good number of years older than either of them, works a far more physically demanding job, or both. Whatever the case, he takes matters with a lot more gravity, and his lapse of judgement at the dinner table seemed to be out of genuine worry rather than disdain or apathy. At first he did his best to talk about anything other than Mario's failing plumbing business, keeping his head down and eating his pasta while everyone else was either defending or teasing Mario and Luigi.

It's only when Mario directly asks his dad for his opinion that he gets right to the heart of the matter:

"I think you're nuts. You don't leave a steady job for some crazy dream. And the worst part? You're bringing your brother down with you."

It's harsh, but you can tell he means well. This is not the face of a man who "doesn't give a sh*t." This may be a big joke to Arthur and Tony, but to Pio it's dead serious. Mario's taking a huge gamble with his and his brother's financial stability. Yes, this is Mario AND Luigi's dream, and Luigi is perfectly capable of making his own decisions... but it's clear who's leading the charge and making a lot of questionable choices along the way. If Pio has a place of headship in the family like I suspect, then this statement has a lot more weight to it– he knows what it is to have other people's wellbeing rely on you. It's important Mario understands that if this longshot fails, he won't be going down alone.

Did Mario already know this? Yep. Was telling him he was bringing his brother down a step too far? Absolutely, but Pio was not trying to emotionally gut his son the way he did.

When Mario storms off, he looks blindsided by the reaction.

When everyone stares at him in surprise he asks "what did I say?" in a tone of genuine confusion. This was meant to be a wakeup call for Mario, not a slap in the face. Apparently, Luigi's inability to read a room is hereditary.

But Pio's not a man of pure stoicism, he's still a hot-blooded Italian at his core, so of course he gets so excited when his kids appear out of nowhere to decimate a giant turtle dragon and his invading army??? (Please note the way he's leaning way too far out of that window in his excitement. It's lucky he's got good core strength or he'd be falling right out of the third story into what is still an active war zone.)

When the smoke clears both Mia and Pio are climbing over wreckage to get to Mario and Luigi, well before a crowd has gathered to cheer. The "these are my boys!" was a continuation of the pride Mario's dad had already expressed before he realized anyone else was watching. He has absolutely no idea what just happened, but anyone with eyes can see that Mario and Luigi just did something fantastic! And as much as Pio sees Mario in the leading role– responsible for his and his brother's failures– he also sees him as responsible for their victories.

So yeah. Conclusion: Mario's Dad is a flawed guy who makes big mistakes, but there's no doubt in my mind that he cares a lot about his kids.

#anyways I'm on the Pio defense squad and my opinion will not be shaken easily #super mario brothers #mario movie #Mario Family #mario headcanons #mario analysis #Local father who is VERY bad at communication tries to teach his son the importance of responsibility #and accidentally delivers psychic damage. More at 11 #askbox #anon #long post

171 notes · View notes

damn-stark · 6 months

Text

Chapter 27 Million years

Chapter 27 of Moonlight

A/N- Are they finally gonna get together?

Warning- Swearing, angst, talks of death, fluff!! and SPOILERS for future events of HOTD!!!!

Pairing- Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader, Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x09, events based off of Fire and Blood

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW WEEKS LATER*

“The scouts have not sent any new reports on Alys, but they’ve heard rumors spreading about a babe with scales and a tale being born to a witch.”

You hum in comprehension and look out the balcony to think about what was just said to you.

They probably won’t find her, she’s smart, and she’s lived for a long time for that reason. Is it worth it to keep looking for someone who can see visions? There’s so much on your plate already too; annoying Lords, being Queen, the wedding, the rest of the Martell family, and Dorne’s most respected lords coming for the wedding. And it’s not like you can undo what she did, you should have known better than to trust her. Plus you’re beginning to lack enough anger to try and chase after her around the Riverlands.

She may rot—

Suddenly you lose all train of thought as you catch Cregan down below walking, talking, and smiling with the black-haired beauty that is Lady Alysanne Blackwood. She’s so close to him, basically rubbing arms, she’s batting her eyelashes at him, and he’s flashing his charming rare smiles. He’s—

You had to let him go, it was better to let him go, but you still can’t help but feel…jealous. You feel it deep in your stomach. You feel slight anger growing within you at the sight of the pair, at the thought that they make a good couple. They make a more plausible couple too.

But you still want that to be you at his side, you still want to see him smile and look at you with a soft and loving look, and you want to laugh with him without having to hide. You still want to be at his side, you want to be her…

But you can’t. You can’t be together and you have to accept that—you accept it, besides you’re getting married soon and so far Prince Namor isn’t terrible…

Life was so much easier when you were with Aemond. Your only desire then was to see your mother and brothers again, you didn’t have any significant concerns. It was easy with Aemond and you only realize that now.

“Your Grace?”

“Hm?” You hum and pull your eyes away from Cregan to look at one of your new ladies-in-waiting helping you with the wedding.

“Which design for the wedding dress’s cape do you prefer?” She asks.

You spare one last glance at Cregan and Lady Alyssane, and frown with displeasure before you look at the designs the designer has drawn up. They’re all beautiful, one is red adorned with gold, and the other one is long and shaped like dragon wings. You’ll probably go with the latter.

“Have this one brought,” you point to the dragon wing cape and slowly look out the balcony again and still see Cregan and Alyssane.

It’s like he’s torturing you. You hate it, you hate seeing him with her. But you have to—

“Ser Crane,” you cut off your lady-in-waiting to address the Lord Commander of your Queensguard, a tall muscular man, with a stern face, a shaved head, a dark goatee, and a kind heart. “I request the presence of Lord Stark right away.”

The man bows his head and quickly heads on out, letting you focus back on your lady-in-waiting. “The dragon wing one is fine, have the second dress brought, I really don’t mind, it’s my third wedding I just want to get it over with.”

The lady looks at you a bit puzzled at your lack of excitement, but does as you ask, letting you wait for Cregan in the parlor room.

Considering he wants to stay here until the kingdom is somewhat stable you see a lot of him. A lot. He’s at every council meeting, he’s at every hearing, if you’re out in the city he is too, he’s like your Hand or a Queensguard. Without actually having the titles.

You like that he is but you also don’t like it because he’s a temptation. Plus Prince Namor and him don’t get along so well.

And well, you understand why Cregan wouldn’t like him, but you don’t understand why Prince Namor doesn’t like Cregan, it’s not like you talk to Cregan a lot in public. In private? Yes, he likes to come visit Daenerys, and he can’t exactly spend time with her alone because people would talk, so you’re always there acting like you need his help. But other than that you don’t know why Prince Namor is so hostile—does he see something?

Nevertheless, a knock raps on the door, and when you welcome the visitor you see exactly who you need, Cregan.

“Your Grace,” he greets and bows.

You cross your leg over the other and offer him a faint smile. “Lord Stark,” you greet formally as your Queensguard walks out. “Sorry, my request is so sudden. I hope you weren’t busy.” You offer him a wider smile and watch him come sit down across from you.

“Well,” he says. “Whenever you call, I come. So no, I was not busy.”

The room's doors close and Cregan looks around. “Where’s Daenerys?” He asks.

You grab your goblet of wine and shake your head. “Not here. This is about another matter.” You take a sip and meet his grey eyes as he looks at you with curiosity. “This is actually about the Night's Watch.”

Cregan leans in and props on hand on his leg to probe. “What about it?”

You made a promise, so you will see through to that promise, or at least prepare the next ruler if it doesn’t come true in your lifetime.

“How many people are posted in the Night’s watch, at all castles? Just a rough estimate,” you continue to ask without actually being clear about anything.

Cregan sits back and shrugs. “Not much, perhaps just under one thousand men, or even less…why the sudden interest?” He presses. “Royalty doesn’t really bother to care for the Night’s watch.”

You swallow thickly and avert your gaze.

You know you can trust him, you know that the smart thing would be telling a Stark as well, after all the threat comes from the distant North, they deserve to know. But it’s difficult speaking about something told to you by your mother.

“Do you remember the stories you’d tell me?” You begin slowly. “About what may live beyond the wall?”

Cregan nods. “Yes, just children's stories.”

You exhale deeply and meet his gaze. “What if they aren’t just stories? What if…something like the Long Night happens again?”

Cregan blinks repeatedly in disbelief and his lips twitch to a teasing smile. “It won’t, it can’t be possible. The first member of the Night's watch drove them away. But again, it’s just a story.”

You put the goblet down and lean forward so he can see you’re being serious. “Cregan, listen to me. I'm being serious. And you can’t tell anyone, I wasn’t allowed to tell you, it’s a secret passed from Targaryen ruler to heir, so please guard this secret with your life.”

Said man narrows his eyes and his teasing smile falls. He doesn’t hesitate to assure you, mostly because he thinks you’re somehow joking. “I swear.”

You exhale deeply. “Long ago,” you begin. “My ancestor, King Aegon, had a dream. A prophecy of the end of the world of men that begins with a terrible winter gusting out of the distant North.”

Cregan swallows back nervously and you see his shoulders tense.

“Aegon saw darkness riding on those winds,” you continue. “And whatever hides within will destroy the land of the living. And when this Great Winter comes, all of Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive it a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. Someone strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the darkness. So that's why I ask, the Night's Watch is our first line of defense, it may not happen in my lifetime, or in any of my children’s lifetimes, but I still made a promise. I can’t fail her, nor can I fail them.”

Cregan drops his head and brushes his fingers through his hair.

“I know,” you add softly. “It’s hard to believe. But you have to believe me. I wouldn’t toy with this.”

Cregan stays quiet for a moment before he snaps his head up and meets your gaze with a narrowed look. “You believe the prophecy?” He asks. “With your heart?”

You don’t hesitate, you nod. “I do.”

Cregan raises his chin and nods. “Then I believe you too.”

You smile and sigh with relief. “Thank you.” You whisper.

“What do you want me to do then?” He asks.

You sigh. “We can’t force people to man the castles, one it might not happen anytime soon, two, people don’t volunteer like before. But I will try from my end to send prisoners to the Night's watch. What I need from you are reports from every exploration the men have. As boring as they may be, I can’t risk missing something.”

Cregan nods in comprehension. “I will do it. But you must visit them too, you know? Just as Queen Alysanne did.”

You grin softly. “I will. I mean I do have a dragon to travel far so I will,” you assure him. “We often tend to forget the Night’s watch. I will try not to.”

“And…” Cregan adds with a growing smile. “You stop by and visit me too. Winterfell will always be your home. It can be.”

“Cregan,” you warn him.

“You’re still not married, why can’t—”

“I just said one reason,” you cut him off. “Besides even if there wasn’t a reason, would you have left your home behind, your land, and people to become King?” You ask seriously.

Cregan’s smile falls and his face grows hard and serious. “No,” he answers bluntly.

You scoff softly and nod slowly. “Exactly. So please just don’t bring it up again. I still want to be your friend.”

Cregan holds your gaze for a moment before he scoffs and looks away and shakes his head. You’re about to question him, but a knock raps on your door so you’re left in tension.

“Come in,” you address the visitor.

The door opens and you look over and see…Rhaena.

The annoyance and tension you just felt falls completely and your eyes fill with happy tears.

You haven’t seen her since the war started. You’ve heard of her from letters or other people’s mouths, but it’s been so long. You thought you would never see her again, you feared something would happen to her even if she was in a safe place.

“Rhaena,” you muse and jump off your seat to run over to her. She matches your pace and meets you halfway with an embrace.

“Y/N,” she whispers.

She’s one of the few family members you have left. One of the two people you grew up with. Your home was when you were with your mother, with your brothers too, so you’ll never feel at home anymore, but with Baela and Rhaena still alive there’s a sense of safety you do feel.

“Why…” you trail off and pull back to face her. “Why wasn’t I told you were here already?” You ask.

Rhaena smiles. “We wanted it to be a surprise. Baela says you’d appreciate it.”

You flash her a grin and nod. “I do—and your hatchling. You have a dragon now!”

Rhaena nods and pulls away to glance back at the crate that’s brought in by a servant. You were so distracted with her that you failed to notice her servants.

“Wait,” you cut her off and glance back at Cregan standing by the table you were just at. “I should introduce you to someone first.” You wave Cregan over, and he quickly makes his way to your side.

“Rhaena this is Cregan Stark,” you introduce him. “An old friend and Lord of Winterfell, of course. Cregan, this is my cousin, Lady Rhaena Targaryen.”

Cregan bows his head out of respect and Rhaena smiles at him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Lady Rhaena,” he says. “The Queen here would speak fondly of you when she lived in Winterfell.”

You grin wider, and Rhaena looks between Cregan and you before she focuses on Cregan. “It’s nice to meet you too, Lord Stark.”

“I hope to make your acquaintance whilst my stay here,” Cregan adds. “Your sister is quite the spitfire, I’m interested in getting to know you too.”

Rhaena laughs softly. “Likewise.”

Cregan sighs and faces you. “I’ll see you later, My Queen.” He bows and then bows his head at Rhaena before he leaves. Once he’s out the door you follow Rhaena to the table and watch her open the crate to then pull out a small pink and black hatchling.

“Oh gods,” you muse excitedly. “Look at it!”

“Her name is Morning,” she reveals and turns to show her off to you.

You reach over and caress her scaled head and beam at her. “You may be our savior,” you tell the little dragon. “I’m happy for you Rhaena,” you direct at your cousin. “I know how much you’ve dreamed of having one, I’m glad you finally bonded with one. It’s a great pleasure.”

“Thank you. And I’m happy too, I can’t wait to ride her,” she muses.

You hum and step back. “It’s really the best thing in the world. How is she? Does she eat? Sleep well?” You ask since there are so few dragons left now. Greyghost flew away after Ser Jason’s death, and Silverwing and Astraea are the only ones that are left in King’s Landing. Two out of so many that were alive.

“Yes, she’s doing well, she’s healthy,” Rhaena assures you as you walk over to sit on the couch to take advantage of the fact that you’re not being swamped. “Is Astraea doing well?”

You nod. “Very. She’s healed well.”

“And Lord Stark?” She asks and catches you off guard. “First name bases?”

You avert your gaze and shrug. “Yes, we lived together for five years. Of course, we go by each other's first names.”

Rhaena walks over with a smile and her dragon draped on her shoulder. “Hm…okay, your eyes and smiles say otherwise.”

You glare at her. “You’ve been here for just a few minutes what—Baela.”

Rhaena smirks. “You burned half the city this is just some free punishment.” She rebuttals.

You scoff and go serious. “What do you think about that? Baela is upset, she’s calmed down a bit since then, but she’s still upset. What are your thoughts?” You ask on the matter.

Rhaena draws out a deep breath and frowns with sadness. “I think you could’ve done things differently. But I also know that sometimes the most ugly things have to be done. I know…my father would’ve approved.”

You scoff with amusement.

“I know that Rhaenyra could’ve used more fire…perhaps then she would still be alive,” she mumbles with a hint of sadness in her tone. “So I think you did what you had to do. Besides you did it already we can’t take it back, we have to move on. Right?” She asks and meets your gaze.

You hold her gaze for a moment before you nod softly and feel your breath tremble as you breathe out. “About that…I was waiting for you to come…” you trail off and feel your eyes water, your throat begin to burn, and you feel your chest get heavy. “…so we could hold a funeral for my mother. I know you were close to her, so I thought you’d want to be there. Prince Namor said it’d be healthy, so I want to have one.”

A short silence follows before Rhaena interjects quietly. “That would be nice…I would be honored to be there. Thank you for waiting for me.”

You keep your head down to avoid seeing the nightmare flashes and memories that threaten to show. “No problem…it’ll be before the wedding,” you mention shakily.

“Y/N—”

“It’ll be okay,” you cut her off to avoid falling into that hole. “I’m okay.”

——

*LATER*

“Your Grace, The Lannisters are approaching and should arrive by nightfall. And the Baratheons will be here this evening.”

You look at Ser Crane through the long mirror and nod in comprehension. “Thank you, Ser, and if I’m not here by the time the Baratheons have my grandfather set up their welcome according to their status.”

The Lord Commander nods and turns stiffly to walk out. And while he was walking out one of your ladies in waiting walks in with a bouquet of Blue Winter Roses.

“My Queen,” she says with excitement in her voice as she approaches you. “These are for you from an old friend they said.”

You turn away from the mirror and take the bouquet from her hands. You read the notecard and even if it doesn't say a name you know it can only be from one person. One person knows that out of every flower in the world, these are your favorite, Cregan. Only he knows that these flowers are a symbol of your love.

So what do the flowers mean this time? He gave you some for your wedding tournament to show his love, to show you aren't forgotten. And this time what else can they be but another symbol?

It’s a symbol of hope now too. They’re a temptation you finally start to give into as your grief is crashing into you a lot stronger than before as you dress in all black to say one last goodbye to the woman you loved. They serve only to bring out this deep desire of wanting him to shield you from that pain, of wanting him to hold you until you feel an ounce of comfort back in your limp heart.

You want to be with him, and these winter roses are like a sign to give in and sacrifice everything just to be in his arms and go back to a place where you had felt happy once before. They’re a declaration of love and an offer.

And you’re in so much agony, you feel it now eating away at you as each second brings you closer to lighting her pyre. You just want some relief…

So you look up from the flowers in your hand and break into a stride to go to him. You feel eager and selfish. Like a fragment of who you used to be could return at the sight of him in this very moment.

However, the door opens for a third time and Prince Namor walks in, so you stop in your tracks and drop your smile.

“Those are beautiful.”

You made her a promise. You remember now at the sight of your betrothed.

“Who are they from?” He asks.

You blink and offer him a faint smile. “An old friend,” you mutter and turn to put the winter roses down on the table.

“Oh, well, they’re beautiful,” he says as he follows you back to the mirror. “Anyway, your cousins are ready. Are you?”

You pick up your mother's valyrian steel necklace from the cushion and sigh deeply as you remember her wearing it.

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “I am ready.”

——

*25 YEARS LATER. 156 AC*

What good is peace if all you wear is mourning attire?

“Today with these ashes we spread, may he return to the sand, may he return to the earth…”

Ashes fall from the septon's hands and trinkle onto the sand below. You follow the particles of what had remained of your husband until it mixes with the grains of sand.

“…may he give life to what sprouts so that his legacy lives on forever in the hearts and minds of the four children he leaves behind, Prince Maekor, Princess Valaena, Prince Laenor, and Prince Rhaegar. And so his wife, her grace, Y/N Targaryen carries him on forever in her heart.”

You sigh and keep your eyes on the ashes that mix with the sand below, and then feel a hand carefully wrap around yours. When you glance over you meet the dark eyes of your youngest son with Prince Namor, Rhaegar. The boy named after your mother, you offer him a faint smile and give him a reassuring squeeze.

“May he meet his ancestors and continue to watch over his kin. May Prince Namor of House Martell find peace!” The septon shouts. You look up at him and then hear snickering, so your attention drifts to your right side and you see your second youngest son, Prince Laenor, snickering at his brother since he sees him holding your hand. You think nothing wrong with it though, Namor was their father, he was a good one at that, and Rhaegar is like Lucerys, sensible and more open to showing and receiving affection.

Thus you shoot Laenor a glare and he quickly drops his smirk and goes quiet, and once he does you point to his older sister, Princess Valaena as she stood crying for the father she lost. Laenor understands what you want and even if he sighs he steps forward to wrap his arm around his sister, making her husband Lord Ellis Blackwood pull his arm off her shoulder to hold her hand instead.

You smile at the interaction of your daughter and her husband. They’ve been married for three years now, but seeing how kind and smitten he is with her still surprises you and brings you joy as if it were the first time seeing it. And you know you react like that because of your fear of marrying your children outside of Targaryen, and or Velaryon families. You only accepted this match because Lord Ellis is the eldest son of Bloody Ben, the man-boy you fought alongside at Tumbleton, the man-boy who had retrieved Addam’s body.

Other than that, all your other kid marriages are kept between the Targaryen’s and Velaryon’s, you don’t want to make the same mistake your grandfather Viserys made when he married Alicent.

It’s why your Hand was Baela for a few years until none other than your little brother, Viserys returned a few years back. With a wife, you wouldn't approve of, but she’s gone now and her family was basically his captor when he came back, without her they wouldn’t let him stay. It was smart but regardless, he’s your Hand now. He’s smart, tactical, and kind.

His kids though…more specifically his eldest, is something else, but that’s besides the fact.

What matters now is that you are a widow for a third time. It’s unfortunate that you had to be Aegon's widow, but at least now that title is gone and you’re Namor’s widow now. It’s bad to point out, but this new loss has your mind raveled. Not like when your mother or the rest of your family died, but after you spend 25 years with someone it has to affect you in some way. Especially when you had 4 more children with him.

But it’s those 4 children, plus the other three, that don’t make you fall into that pit you were stuck in before. They keep you upright now, and they’re all the ones that make you feel your heart again. Instead, you are there for them as they grieve their father. You comfort them as best as you can as you get taken back to the Red Keep.

Once you’re inside and attending the banquet in Namor’s name you approach Valaena.

“Forgive me, mother,” she interjects in a shaky voice.

You furrow your eyebrows and cup her cheek to dry away her tears. “Whatever for?” You query.

“Crying, for not being strong, especially in front of everyone,” she reveals, making you scoff softly.

“Oh my sweet girl, it’s okay to cry, he was your father,” you assure her. “You can cry as much as you want to.”

“But you’re strong,” she says and holds your other hand.

You smile and shake your head. “When I lost my own father I was inconsolable, I wanted to jump off the ship that was taking me to Winterfell to see your grandfather's resting place. I was anything but strong. So it’s okay.”

Valaena lets out a shaky sigh and offers you a soft smile.

“Now,” you add and slide your hands down to grab her hands. “How are my grandchildren?” You ask and look at her swollen belly. “Five more months to go.”

Valaena grins. “They’re great, moving, and with strong heartbeats. The both of them.”

“Great, I’m glad.”

“Prince Aerion of House Velaryon! Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides!” The guard announces.

You and your daughter share a short glance before you turn and watch your only son with Aemond and the proof of your love comes waltzing in late.

Your guests greet him as they make a path towards you and your family, and he redirects that greeting with a formal smile. But when his blue eyes land on you and the rest of his siblings his grin widens, and one person quickly pushes himself out of his seat and runs around the table to greet him.

“Aerion!” Your eldest son with Namor, Maekor, shouts excitedly.

Said man chuckles and changes his pace to a jog as Maekor runs down the steps and runs to his brother. When they meet halfway, Maekor jumps on his brother, and Aerion doesn’t hesitate to squeeze him back.

“Maekor! Brother!” Aerion greets and lets his brother go.

Ever since your first child with Namor was born you made it your job that they got along, that they all got along and didn’t treat each other like Aemond and Aegon treated your mother. Your kids fought, of course they did, but they never hated themselves like your mother and her siblings.

“Aerion!” Laenor shouts and runs over followed by Rhaegar, while Valaena and Daenerys stay with you to wait for Aerion to finish greeting his brothers

“He’s late,” Daenerys mutters. “And where’s Daenys?”

“Probably getting here even more late,” Valaena counters.

You hum in agreement and watch as the three boys huddle around their older brother

“Which reminds me,” Valaena interjects. “The Stark’s didn’t come.”

You glance at your daughter at the mention of that infamous name and then look down to think about Cregan.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, ten years perhaps? Maybe even more? You really wanted to see him, he’s a widow too, longer than you have been.

“Mother!”

You snap your eyes up and see Aerion approaching with his arms open, but you place a hand on your hip and shoot him a pointed look.

“You’re late,” you point out as he wraps his arm around you. “Three days late.”

Aerion presses kisses on the side of your head to try and make you forget, and it works because you hug him back and when you pull away you grab his jaw. “I missed you,” you tell him, making him grin. “Where’s Daenys?”

Aerion sighs and pulls away, his smile falls and he looks at his sisters. “Well,” he adds. “Uh, Daenys stayed in Driftmark because she gave birth.”

You gasp and grab his arm. “Birth? It’s a month too soon,” you stammer out.

“Is she okay?” Daenerys asks right away.

Aerion nods. “Yes, she’s just recovering. She’s okay. Both her and our son.”

You sigh with relief but you still pinch him. “Why didn’t you say anything? You should’ve sent a Raven.”

Valaena steps forward to smack his arm. “Why didn’t you start off by saying she’s okay? Jerk.”

Aerion chuckles. “Well, it wouldn't have mattered, you all still would’ve worried. Anyway, she’ll come in a week or two. I came early to be with you,” he directs at his sister's, mainly at Valaena. “I don’t remember my father, but I do know longing. And it does get better, Valaena.”

Valaena offers him a gentle smile and they hug before he hugs Daenerys. She’s actually about to say something, but then Aerion gently pushes her away as he spots Ser Crane.

“Old man,” he greets. “You get older every time I see you.”

Ser Crane huffs. “Yet it’s possible I might outlive you, my Prince.”

Aerion grins and pats his shoulder when he sees him and then moves past him when he spots Valaena’s husband.

“Ellis!” He shouts before he runs over to embrace him and pats his back.

“Aerion, buddy, we've been waiting for you!”

You watch your other sons huddle around the pair and turn to walk to Lord Cane.

“He says Daenys gave birth,” you mention and watch your nieces approach their respected partner. “That’s why he’s late.”

“The boat has been here since this morning,” he rats Aerion out without hesitation. “He was probably sleeping or joined in some tournament.”

You scoff. “I don’t know where he gets these tendencies from, his father was never like this.”

“His uncle was—”

“I’ll burn you,” you cut him off before he could say Aegon’s name, making him chuckle.

“I’ll talk to him,” Lord Crane assures you and passes you your goblet of wine.

You shake your head. “Don’t waste your breath, he’s almost 30, he won’t learn anymore. He’s got a thick head.”

Lord Crane chuckles.

You smile and take a drink of your wine before you change the subject. “I’m going to make rounds.” You turn, and he mirrors your actions to follow you to the first Lord and Lady you see, but then the guard at the entrance interrupts you.

“Lord Cregan of House Stark, Lord of the Winterfell, and Warden of the North.”

You gasp softly and snap your eyes to the door, catching him, Cregan, your old friend, and love your life, walking down the steps with his men and a young lady you assume is one of his daughters Lord Alyssane gave him during their marriage.

Everyone watches the mighty Lord with his fur cloak over his broad shoulders and body that's grown more toned over the years. But through the sea of people, he finds you.

Cregan’s grey eyes find you as he makes his way to you first. And when he reaches you, your heart skips a beat as if it were the first time you’ve seen him. He proceeds to bow and the young lady beside him does too.

“My Queen,” he greets.

You hand the goblet of wine back to your Lord Commander and when Cregan straightens out, you offer him a kind smile. “Lord Stark,” you greet sweetly.

“My condolences on the loss of your husband,” he says first. “I knew the prince consort briefly, but all I heard were great things.”

You sigh. “Thank you, Lord Stark. I’m glad we could see you. Even if it is at the banquet,” you say bluntly.

Cregan’s serious expression breaks as he smiles. “Yes well, there was a storm that damaged our ship, and when we changed to a carriage our carriage broke a wheel. It’s been quite a hectic ride.”

You blink and look at him with worry. “Oh! Is everyone fine?” You ask and step forward.

Cregan nods. “Yes, yes, we’re all fine. Thank the gods.”

You hum and glance at the lady with dark brown hair. Cregan follows your line of gaze and grabs her arm. “This is my youngest daughter Mariah Stark.”

The girl curtsy and when she stands up you offer her a sweet smile. “Ah, you have your father's grey eyes. Very beautiful.”

“Thank you, your Grace,” she mumbles.

You nod and meet Cregan’s gaze again. “It’s nice to see you, old friend. It’s been…years.”

Cregan nods and his eyes soften, catching those around you off guard that this cold and serious man was looking so gentle. “Ten,” he clarifies. “Ten years. But I’m here now and I hope we get to reacquaint ourselves during my stay.”

You grin and nod eagerly. “Yes, that would be great. Now,” you trail off and grin wider. “Meet my children!” You walk over to the group of kids watching from a distance. “I’ll start with who I see first, there’s a lot.” You laugh.

And of course, Laenor pushes himself to the front, so you start with him. “Cregan, this is Laenor,”

Said man feigns a cough so you correct yourself. “Sorry, Ser Laenor. He’s a knight.”

Laenor flashes Cregan a grin and then glances at his daughter to offer her a flirty smile. And right away you notice that the girl blushes at the charming tactics of your son. But she’s not the only one, since he’s the only prince who’s a bachelor, many young ladies have been swooning over him and giving him their sympathies in hope he’d return their affections. But they’ll find that their brothers or their household guards will gain his affection a lot quicker than them. He just likes to tease women.

“…and this,” you move on to point to the man next to Laenor. “This is Rhaegar, my youngest.” You grab his shoulder and give it a tight squeeze.

Rhaegar glances at you and then offers Cregan a more nervous smile, letting you move on to the next person and feeling him feel grateful for it with the way his shoulders untense.

“Next to him is my niece and his betrothed, Lady Valeria Hightower, daughter of my cousin, the Lady Rhaena.”

Cregan bows his head and then glances back at one of his men. When they approach you see him holding a bouquet of blue winter roses.

“Thank the gods these survived our trip,” he says and plucks one from the bouquet to hand it to Valeria.

“Oh! This is beautiful,” Valeria gushes. “Thank you, my Lord.” She curtsies and then turns to Rhaegar to show him the pretty rose.

“This is Lady Laena Velaryon, daughter of my cousin Lady Baela, wife of my Maekor, and future Queen.” You grin.

Cregan bows his head and once again he plucks a rose from the bouquet. She’s more timid than Valeria though, so her response is softer. “Thank you, Lord Stark.”

“It's an honor to make your acquaintance, my Lady,” he interjects. “And future Queen.”

Laena smiles and gently bows her head. “It’s an honor to meet you, the Queen speaks fondly of you.” She reveals.

Oh.

Cregan smirks. “Does she now? I should hope so.”

You avert your gaze and move on to the next person so he won't get any more smug. “And you know my Maekor, my heir.”

Cregan once again bows. “My Prince.” Cregan greets.

Maekor offers him a small bow and a gentle smile. “Lord Stark. It’s a pleasure seeing you again, the last time I saw you—”

“You were a little lad,” Cregan cuts him off. “With your front teeth missing.” He chuckles. “You’ve grown, my Prince. And I hear you have sons of your own too.”

You beam proudly, and Maekor nods.

“Yes, I do, Jacaerys and Jaehaerys,” your son reveals.

“It’s quite a change,” Cregan says. “You make me feel old.”

“That’s because you are,” you quip

“Likewise.” He counters, making you feign a laugh before you move and point to the tall skinny man next to Maekor. “You probably know him. Lord Ellis Blackwood, son of Lord Benjicot Blackwood.”

Cregan nods. “Yes, we’ve met. I hear a congratulations are in order, my lord, I hear you're expecting your first child.”

Ellis grins brightly and nods before glancing at Valaena. “Yes, twins the maester says.”

Cregan glances at your daughter and offers her a smile. “Congratulations Princess, I’m sure the gods will grant you healthy babes.” He then turns and plucks three roses from the bouquet. “For you and your children.”

Valaena gently takes the roses and brings them up to her nose to smell them, causing a sweet smile to grow on her lips. “Thank you, my Lord, you are very kind.”

Cregan bows his head and now you move on to your last two. “Now, you know…” you trail off as Aerion is gone from the line. “Oh, well here’s Daenerys.”

Cregan stops in front of Daenerys and his smile softens. “Princess,” he greets softly and studies her face.

Daenerys doesn’t know the man before her is her actual father, you couldn’t risk it, so it will always be a secret between Cregan and you.

“Lord Stark,” she greets without as much emotion.

Cregan lingers there before he grabs one winter rose and hands it to her. “It goes with your hair well,” he says, making her giggle.

“It does, thank you.” She then looks at you and smiles.

“Father,” Cregan’s daughter cuts in. “Look they have my favorite, come with me.”

Cregan blinks and then glances at you. “And the rest are for you,” he says and grabs the rest of the winter roses to give you the bouquet. “I’m sorry for your loss, again. We’ll talk later. Yes?”

You smile softly and nod. “Yes. And Lord Stark.” You proceed to approach him and talk quieter. “Join us tomorrow for breakfast. The whole of my family will be there, and I want you to be there as well.”

Cregan holds your gaze with a smile and doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’ll be there.”

You grin wider and nod in comprehension. “Good,” you whisper and feel your heart skip a beat once again.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic

#fanfiction #damn-stark #moonlight #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfiction #Cregan stark #Cregan stark fanfiction #Cregan stark x fem!reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x targaryen!reader #Cregan stark x Velaryon!reader #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond Targaryen fanfiction

157 notes · View notes

myfandomprompts · 1 year

Text

Dubious Headlines | Aemond Short Story (Part 1/3)

Aemond x Reader Modern!AU Masterlist

Synopsis: In a world where Dragon Incorporation is the most powerful firm in town, Rhaenyra Targaryen's last announcement sends you, a journalist, to interview the younger sons of the family. However, you did not ask for any of this.

Viserys Targaryen was sick, and had for many years bequeathed all of his shares in the care of his children. But everybody knew that the Targaryen was a drama family, and that strife was ever present between the different siblings. Lately, the eldest, Rhaenyra, had made an announcement in which she said to intend her branch of the company to take a whole other direction, putting the other branches managed by her brothers and sister in a difficult position.

“Y/N, where are Mathilda and Sam?”

You raised your head from your computer to look at your boss, M. Vander.

“Uh… I don’t know, I have not seen them all morning. Covering the charity event maybe?”

The man looked around desperately, thinking. “Ok then," he decided, eyes darting at you. “In my office please.”

You looked bewildered. You swore that if you he gave more work because Sam and Mathilda had run off again…

“I need you to go to Dragon Incorporation and interview Aegon Tagaryen,” he announced as he sat behind his desk.

You internally cursed. As if you did not have enough work already. “What? Why me? I cover cultural events, I am not…”

“You did hear about Rhaenyra’s announcement right?” he interrupted you.

“Yes, but since when are we interested in gossip, sir?”

“It’s not gossip. It’s gathering impressions on the changes that might have an influence on the citizens of the city. I’m sorry but you are the only one available that is competent enough Y/N.”

Please, anything but this.

“I- I don’t think this is a good idea sir, Mathilda is the one who usually interviews them I-”

“Y/N, I know you will manage perfectly. Take care of this please.”

You deeply inhaled as he dismissed you, nodding and got out of the office.

The reason why you dreaded the interview, except for the fact that it was absolutely not your area of expertise, is that Aegon Targaryen, second son and head of the communication department at Dragon Company, had such a reputation that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. As a journalist, you were usually one of the firsts to learn what was new in town, and Aegon was definitely in the top 5 of the most scandalous things you had seen. Besides the accusations, the trials, the complaints and the police reports that most of the other agencies tried to hide from the public, he was also clearly a man that just did not care about his actions. He liked doing interviews, though, you had seen a draft of Mathilda’s interview with him once. You could not emphasise enough how much she had to remove in order for it to be decent to be published.

You had called your friend on your way to one of the many locations of Dragon Inc., taking your sweet time.

“I am so gonna kill them. They owe me big on this one, being absent today of all days. I hate them.”

“So you managed to get an appointment with him? With Aegon?”

“Uh…. No, I didn’t, not really. I kinda hope that I would just show up and that he would be absent. This way I won’t have to do it at all!” you sighed as you climbed the stairs that led to the offices floor.

“Y/N…Vander will be mad if he realises that you delayed this on purpose.”

“Trust me, if I am not the one who does the interview, he will have no trouble sending someone else, and be a hundred percent more satisfied with them, a clear win for both of us the way I see it.”

You were on the third floor, near the CEO’s office. As you walked through the corridor, you did not see the man who had just exited the elevator, almost bumping into you. He watched you warily as you continued talking loudly over the phone, not bothered at all if you were heard. Who was that woman?

“You are not that bad at interviews… Just go in there, ask the questions and get out, easy.”

“No it’s not! I’m used to report on cultural events, not… whatever this is! Gods I really don’t want to do this, Mathilda told me awful things about him...”

The man was walking behind you at a safe distance, now amused at your ranting. From what he gathered, you were a reporter. Were you here for his brother?

“Yeah, I read the papers too… Are you there yet?”

You were now before the door on which the shining plate of “Aegon Targaryen, Communication Director” was displayed.

You sighed. “Yeah… I’m standing at the door,” you breathed out, looking at your feet, defeated. “Maybe I could just… invent an interview.” Behind you, the man silently laughed at your unprofessionalism, comfortably leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you talk to the door. He was enjoying this far too much.

“You are stalling again… It will be alright. Hang up, and call me when you’re finished.”

“I guess you’re right, I should just, rip the band aid off. Ok… Talk to you soon.”

You hanged up, nervously fidgeting with your phone and puffed. You were staring at the door, gathering the courage to knock. As seconds passed without you moving a muscle, your silent observer then decided to have a little fun. “Can I help you?”

You jumped, startled at the sudden voice so close to you. Arms crossed over his chest, a man was staring at you, the ghost of what you thought to be a smile on his lips. How long has he been there?!

“Oh god you scared me!” you gasped, clutching your hand over your chest. Then you realised how odd your behaviour must have been. “I’m so sorry I was just… umh.”

He arched a brow, waiting for your response. You cleared your throat nervously.

“I came to see Aegon, Aegon Targaryen. I’m Y/N L/N, journalist at The Westerosi.” you smiled awkwardly before extending your hand to him. He looked at you for a moment before taking your hand.

“Aemond Targaryen,” he said as you shook hands.

Of course. You had recognised him at once, a beautiful lilac eye on one side and another piercing prosthetic blue eye on the other, a chiselled jaw line, silver-haired, and so very tall. There stood Aemond Targaryen, the most mysterious of the Targaryen’s siblings. You knew him to be quite intimidating from the pictures you have seen of him, but you did not expect the effect of seeing him in the flesh would have on your body as you let go of his hand. His whole demeanour screamed power and poise. You tried to control the feeling that crept up from your neck to your stomach. You cleared your throat, his intense gaze on you. You nervously fidgeted with your phone again.

“So is he…” you pointed to the door, “Is he in there?” you asked, your voice unsure.

“Yes.”

Aemond simply crossed his arms again, watching you look at the door like if it was an insurmountable obstacle. You were clearly not a fan of his brother.

“Would you like me to knock for you perhaps?” he asked.

“No no! Thank you, I perfectly know how to knock!” you tried to joke as he raised his brow higher. “I just, uhm…”

But then an idea came to your mind. Aemond was the most secretive of his family, never giving interviews, never appearing at social events as much as the others, and he was just there. You didn’t really know if he was as vile as his brother seemed to be, but you knew that if you brought back an exclusive interview of Aemond Targaryen, your boss would be delighted, and might even overlook the fact that you had been… unable to talk to Aegon. You had to take your chance. You turned around to face him.

“Actually, do you have a moment? I am gathering information on the recent changes that occurred in your company. Would you mind answering a few questions…?”

That is an interesting turn of events.

He seemed to pounder the proposition for a moment, and you were certain that he would throw you off, that you had overstepped.

“Very well,” he stated, his face letting nothing appear as you widened your eyes in disbelief. “What do you drink?”

You were so taken aback that you forgot to speak properly.

“Dr-d-” you stammered, “What do I drink?” you repeated.

“Yes. Coffee? Tea? I can have you brought anything you want.”

This man was unsettling. You had to put yourself together. “Uh... no, thank you. I’m fine.”

“Mh.”

His eye was scanning you, and you couldn’t help but fidget on the spot, clearing your throat as you felt naked under his gaze.

“We will be more comfortable in my office. This way.”

Without a glance back at the door you had almost walked in, you followed him to another corridor, and inside a luxurious office. He sat behind his desk, tapped something on his phone and invited you to sit. You did as ordered, thanking him and taking out your pad containing the questions meant for Aegon.

You tried not to be disturbed by the unfaltering stare the second Targaryen son was giving you as you asked question after question. You had quickly rephrased some of them to be more suited for him instead of Aegon, and you thought that it was playing out quite nicely for an unintended interview.

He listened to you attentively, answering each of your questions as concisely as possible, and you could not be anything but impressed by how eloquent he was. You considered it a shame that his family did not use him more in public.

At one point, a beautiful woman that you gathered to be his assistant, entered the room, carrying a hot cup of coffee in hand. Her presence made you stop as she lowered herself to put the cup down next to Aemond, her low cleavage making you regret the fact that you had not taken off your blazer. He thanked her and as she left, her eyes looked at you from head to toe with a sufficient smile before walking her heels to the door and closing it, but not before giving the brightest smile you have ever seen to Aemond. You guessed that being this handsome and rich might have that effect.

He seemed unfazed though as he took a sip of his coffee nonchalantly. You could not help but stare at his throat as he drank the hot liquid, his Adam’s apple slightly pulsating at the movement. You were forced to clear your throat again, snapping out of your trance as he put down the cup.

“So, how would you describe your sister, Rhaenyra, in simple words? How do you see her as a member of your family and as an eminent member of your firm?”

He let your question hang in the air for quite some time, before biting the inside of his cheek and sitting back on his chair. He clearly did not like this one.

“Next question,” he deadpanned.

“I’m sorry?”

“I don’t like that question, so next please.”

You dropped down the pen that was ready to write to look at him with surprise. “You do realise that this interview is about the subdivision of the company, started by your sister.”

“Half-sister. And I understand perfectly. Please continue.”

You hold his gaze for a moment, unsure.

Very well then. “Have you ever considered, as head of the financial branch, to invest in other areas than the one you are currently involved with? Have you ever thought of sponsoring events or… celebrities for instance?”

As he answered your question, relieved that he did not seem crossed by the previous one in any way, you could not help but notice the way he licked his lips as he took another sip of coffee, his tongue slightly peaking out. At this moment, you had completely lost track of what he was saying, and by the time he had finished talking, you internally congratulated yourself for recording the interview on your phone. How very professional of you.

It seemed that your temporary distraction had you more disturbed than you thought as you saw the next question originally written for Aegon on your pad: How does the fact that you work in the same company as your wife influence you r decisions?

This was obviously not a question suited for the man sitting across from you, so you took a moment to try and adapt it to him, but it seemed that you were incapable of coherent thoughts right now.

“Are you involved with anyone?”

The question had left your lips faster than your brain could think. Not that you apparently owned a brain right now by the look of it. You cursed yourself. Big mistake.

You could see how the question had caught him off guard as you blushed and fiddled with your pad, apologising profusely at once.

“I’m so sorry, don’t mind the last one, it was meant for your brother…!” you stammered before realising that it sounded worse. You quickly found the next question, your body heating up.“Where do you see the company in ten years time?”

He had taken a bit more time to answer this one, watching how flustered you were and how your cheeks had reddened, making your skin so appealing to him that he could have sworn that he felt its warmth from this distance. Your nerves were all over the place, but it calmed down as the interview came to an end, taking control of your body again. You thanked him and stood up to shake his hand, promising him to keep him updated.

“Thank you very much for your time, M. Targaryen. I will take your secretary number and notify you when the article will be published.”

He left his place from behind his desk in order to accompany you to the door as you retrieved your coat, bringing with him the sweet scent of sandalwood and coffee. You had to get out of here.

“I look forward to reading it. When you see my brother, please tell him I said to behave.”

Oh. Aegon. It had completely escaped your mind. You undoubtedly felt like you had no obligation at all to go see him now, having obtained the interview of his quite private brother… But you could not tell him that. Instead you just nodded, hoping that he would not accompany you to his brother’s office.

“I will. Although I don’t think I will need anything more from him. I feel like I have everything I need,” you said, tapping on your pad.

“That is a relief. This way you won’t have to… invent an interview. I’m sure your skill lies elsewhere.”

You blushed at this, realising that Aemond had heard a good part of your conversation on the phone. You did not move as he stared at you quite pleased at your reaction.

“I would never… I mean, it was only a joke,” you tried. “I take my job very seriously. It’s just that I am more used to deal with people from other backgrounds.”

“Mh,” he nodded, reaching for the doorknob behind you. You exhaled in relief, the prospect of freedom one move away, but he paused again and did not open the door right away.

“By the way, the answer is no.”

You turned your head to him, almost bumping into his chest. “I’m sorry?”

“No, I am not involved with anyone at the moment.”

You tried to recall when in your life you had been as short of breath as you were now, stuck between the door and the man whose gaze made you feel like the weakest thing on earth. You tried to reply but nothing came, and as you bit your lips in anxiousness you tried not to notice how his eye had quickly lowered to the movement.

He only smirked and opened the door, stepping aside to allow you space. You swallowed as you quickly passed him, hands clutching at your coat in tension.

“Have a good day Miss L/N.”

And then he closed the door, leaving you to face the pretty assistant studying you from behind her desk, clearly annoyed at you, for whatever reason. You rapidly took the contact you needed from her and exited the building, welcoming the fresh air and grabbing your phone, calling your boss right away. Your lungs were on fire.

“Is it done?”

“Well, not exactly. I managed to have much better.” You were overselling it, but it was a miss or hit situation.

“What did you do Y/N?”

“I had obtained a meeting with the one and only Aemond Targaryen! He answered all of the questions on the subdivision, and even managed to get the intel you could not have if it had been with Aegon. This is good for us! You know he rarely gives any interviews.”

You were met with silence.

“Y/N…”

“Listen, I promise you to do the best article I have ever written on Dragon Inc. You will not be disappointed, I swear. Give me a chance Vander.”

“Y/N, how do you think Aegon Targaryen will react if he learns that he had not been consulted first?”

“Do we… really care about that, sir?” you asked, slightly appalled as you considered it.

“He is the main correspondent with our newspaper. Mathilda has always gone to him when we needed insight on Dragon Inc!”

You swallowed. This would not stop you, you had to make it work.

“All due respect sir, if you wanted that kind of interview, you should have sent her, not me. I managed to have an exclusive one and I believe in what I have gathered. You should too.”

Your boss went silent again, and as you saw this as a good sign, that we would be considering it at least, you continued.

“I will send you a draft tonight, and I’ll prove to you that this paper is worth publishing. I can assure you that Aemond’s Targaryen’s insight will raise the reader's interest much more than Aegon’s.”

Some more seconds of silence.

“Very well. I don’t like this, but I trust you Y/N, you have rarely disappointed me. I expect it before tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Then you quickly texted your friend, summarising your encounter with the one-eyed Targaryen before you jumped in a taxi and went home, reading over your notes.

Yep. Aemond Targaryen would not leave your mind any time soon.

Your boss had been happy with the draft, and now you were at your desk, writing the actual article. You had taken your time in scolding Mathilda and Sam, blaming them for forcing you to take on a task you knew would not have you so riled up, but your friends had only sympathised with you, and you had not been able to stay mad at them for long.

By noon the article was finished, and you had to wait for tomorrow’s paper for it to be published. You had managed to progress on your other projects in the meantime, but now it was dark outside and you were the only one left in the office. Again.

The piece of paper next to your keyboard with Aemond Targaryen’s contact information, was now becoming more and more difficult to ignore as you were soon to go home. All day you had glanced at it, hesitating between sending your completed interview to him now or waiting for him to discover it with everyone else in the morning.

Taking a deep breath, you finally took the piece of paper, typed the e-mail address and attached your article to it before thinking of something personal to write.

Nothing came as you simply wrote the most formal of e-mails, giving him the time of publication and thanking him again. As you pressed send, you sat back into your chair and stared at the screen as your mind began to imagine him receiving your e-mail, how his brows would knit together while his eye would dart over the lines you had written.

Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for losing yourself in such thoughts before shutting your computer down. You needed sleep.

Aemond Targaryen had looked your name up as soon as you had departed from his office, curious to know more about the woman who had forsaken his brother and dared ask an interview of him, Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

He stared at the screen with interest as he browsed The Westerosi ’s archives online, seeing the several articles you had written over the years, mostly about city events or local cultural activities, smiling each time he read your comments about this or that particular representation. Now he was having dinner with his family, listening to his mother’s complaints about his eldest sister again, when he felt his phone vibrate. He could not ignore the satisfaction he felt when your name appeared on the screen next to an e-mail, and wasted no time reading what you had sent him. You had done a good job, he liked that you remained factual in your writing, and he could not help the disappointment he felt when he saw the few lines you had written to thank him in your message. As he put down his phone again, he remembered how you never seemed to miss anything that happened in the city. He counted on that.

-0- Part 2

A/N: Any resemblance to a particular book/movie was unintended, I realised it afterwards. (Oops)

710 notes · View notes

aquagirl1978 · 2 months

Note

Uuummm hi , 👋😊. I was wondering if U make like stories on ikemen prince . If u do , can u pls pls pls pls make one on Gilbert being a father🤞🤞.I NEED IT 😩😫 plssssss . Ofc you are not force to . TYsm ❤️👑💋

Thank you @alfonssylvaticasbitch for this very lovely ask - as his route is releasing in EN in just a few hours, I thought it would be fitting to post this today.

Anti-Hero - Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N #1: This is now the third Gilbert as a dad fic I've written and also the third fic I've titled after a Taylor Swift song (I promise I am not a Swiftie!) - make of this what you will.

A/N #2: Happy Route Release Day Gilbert - congratulations, now all your secrets will soon be known.

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader

Prompt: Gilbert as a dad

Word Count: 680

Tags: fluff, no spoilers (other than an appearance by Walter who is just "some guy" in this fic), Gilbert has a daughter

“Here,” the little girl said, placing a toy dragon into Roderich’s hands, “you get to be the dragon today.”

The man wearing a dark hood covering his face stared down at the toy. “Why am I always the dragon?” he muttered.

“Would you rather be the troll?” Walter asked, eyeing the very ugly toy in his hand. “Just go along with it, you don’t want to make him angry.”

Roderich turned his head to see Gilbert seated on a large stone, his little rabbit not far from him.

“Why isn’t he ever the dragon?” Roderich mumbled under his breath. He turned his attention back to the game at hand and moved his dragon to the entrance of the play-castle.

He made loud roaring sounds; the little girl smiled and shrieked, happy to see her friend play along.

“Papa, Papa ! Help me!!!!” she called out frantically. Her arms flailing, she flopped over onto her side, the doll in her hand falling from her fingers. “The dragon…” she gasped, “is coming to get me!”

“Rawr!” Roderich shouted as he moved the dragon closer to the little girl’s doll. He watched as she clutched her heart, sighing dramatically – something her father had done on more than one occasion.

“Papa!” she cried breathlessly. “I need you,” she gasped, “I need my hero to save me!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your daughter’s theatrics – while she inherited your hair and eyes, she inherited her melodramatics from Gilbert.

“Go,” you urged, “she needs you.”

Gilbert looked at his daughter and then back at you. “I’m not a hero,” he said. “Anti-hero, maybe. But I’m the villain…”

His voice trailed off as his focus turned to his daughter. Sprawled out on the floor, she lay still as the mean and scary dragon approached the princess.

You tugged gently on Gilbert’s sleeve, his gaze returning to you. “In her eyes, you are her papa. A great and wonderful man who adores her. In her world, she only knows the good you have done.”

“I have done bad things. Terrible things.” He tilted his head, sadness washing over his face. “And I might do them again.”

“You won't," you replied softly, to which Gilbert huffed a puff of air.

“And you, little rabbit, how do you see me?”

“I see a man with a good heart who loves his family and his country.”

His expression softened, the way he looked at you was so gentle; he couldn't argue with you – there was not a lie in your voice. His rose-red eye wavered as he pulled you into an embrace, his arms circling your waist, squeezing you so tight.

“I wouldn’t survive without you,” he whispered into a kiss placed upon the crown of your hair.

You pressed your cheek into the dark fabric covering his chest, humming your acknowledgment.

“That’s why I’ll never let you leave my side.”

You pulled away, needing to look into his eye when you spoke. “I wouldn't want it any other way.”

He pressed his lips against yours in a rare sign of affection in front of others. Cool against warmth, it was over before it could go any further.

You ran your palms slowly down his arms, your hands slipping into his. “Now go, be her hero.” You let go of his hands, and watched him walk away.

He took a seat on the ground next to his daughter; once she was calmed, Gilbert turned to you. He held out his hands, his fingers curving into a heart as he smiled at you.

Your heart filled with warmth as Gilbert picked up the toy knight and played the part of the hero, slaying the mean dragon and saving the princess. Nothing could have made you happier than when you saw the smile on your daughter’s face.

“Thank you for saving me, papa,” she squealed as he lifted her in the air. “I love you!”

“I love you, too,” you whispered, giving your husband and child a moment together, their laughter so loud and infectious you couldn't help but join in their joy.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @crypticbibliophile @lancelotscloak @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @portrait-ninja @sh0jun

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikemen gilbert #ikemen fanfic #ikepri fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

94 notes · View notes

angstywaifu · 2 months

Text

The Lost Sister - Part 12

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC

A/N: I don't have much to say other than, the talk you have all been waiting for is here. Enjoy. The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Tonight everyone celebrates. The dining hall is loud and chaotic as every riders is here. The kitchen had gone all out with the food for tonight, and someone had definitely spiked the lemonade. Tonight we are all riders, celebrating as one. The second and third years who had kept their distance, now welcomed us with open arms. We had proven we had what it takes to be riders, and had dragons of our own to prove it.

As the night goes on, people start sneaking off to each others rooms to celebrate in another way. I see a few of my squad mates among them. I can’t help but smile as I notice Rhiannon sneak of with Sawyer. Not long after Bodhi disappears as well with a first year he had been talking to most of the night. With his departure I was on my own. My eyes scan the room hoping to see the familiar curly hair of the one I’m looking for. But I come up short, and I can’t help but feel disappointed. I had tried to find him after we had all received our relics, but he had disappeared along with Xaden. Judging by the look on Xaden’s face during it all, I wondered if it had something to do with Dain kissing Violet. Another two who were also missing. After this morning I had hoped to grab him and talk to him. But it seemed tonight was another night where he was nowhere to be seen.

The walk back to my dorm room is quiet, with most people back in the privacy of their dorms celebrating, or back in the dining hall. Seems most people were smart enough to put silencing wards on their doors or go to a second or third years room. I round the corner to where my new room is and stop in my tracks. There leaning against my door is the tall and muscular, curly haired figure I had been searching for all night. Garrick. I hadn’t made a sound but as if he knows I’m there, his head turns to where I stand. My heart flutters as our eyes meet. I can tell he had been waiting a while. A small smile forms on his face as he see’s me, pushing himself off the door to stand up straight as I make my way over. Only he could make a normal sized door look small, his head getting very close to the top as he stands.

“Was wondering where you had gotten to. Was starting to think you’d found other ways to celebrate.” I say, trying to make a joke of the situation as I stand in front of him.

The way his eyebrows furrow at me tells me he is not impressed at my attempt at a joke. “I told you the other week, I don’t do casual hook ups.”

”But you did.” I point out, referencing his past times with Imogen.

He sighs and drops his head, his curls falling in front of his eyes. I don’t know if its the spiked lemonade talking, but god do I want to run my hands through them. Like I use to back in Aretia. Back when I would always be over at his place. His mum never complained about me being there. Hell she had complained if I wasn’t there. After dinner we would always sit out on the balcony or on his bed, his head in my lap as we would talk or just simply enjoy each others company. I would run my fingers through his hair out of habit. I wondered if they were as soft as I remembered.

”And as I also said. If someone else wasn’t ‘dead’.” He uses his fingers to emphasise the word dead as he looks up at me. “I wouldn’t have done so.”

The intensity in his stare has my heart skip a beat. I’d been avoiding the conversation, and now there was no way to avoid it. It was very clear that Garrick was here to talk about that moment in the Healers Quadrant. And honestly I wanted to have that talk. Especially after talking to Xaden the other night.

“Yeah, I remember.” I mumble as I look down at my hands and pick at a stray fingernail.

”Surprised you do with how quick you ran off and have been avoiding me.”

And there it is. I feel as if Garrick has just dropped a brick in the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t wrong. The only reason we hadn’t talked was because of me. He had tried, and I’d run off as soon as I’d seen him. The only one I had really talked to since was Bodhi. Even Xaden had been victim to some of it till recently. Bodhi and Imogen were both quite impressed at my ability to avoid my section leader and wingleader.

Garrick reaches out and grab my hands, stopping my fidgeting. My skin feels like its on fire where his hand grips mine. I look up to see him looking down at me, the same look he had given me in the Healers Quadrant that day. His eyes hopeful I will say what he wants me to say.

“I shouldn’t have run off. I was…” What was I? Scared? Shocked? Unsure.

A bang at the end of the hallway startles both of us, our gaze shifting to a couple trying to get into one of their rooms. Garrick tugs on my hands and opens my door before leading us inside. After closing the door he leads me over to the bed and sits me down as he kneels on the ground in front of me. It’s one of the few moments Garrick and I are at the same height.

”In all the years I’ve known you Ophelia, I don’t think I have ever seen you that scared before.” He starts, reaching out and taking my hands in his again. “But correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I saw happiness to. Like you had been waiting to hear what I said.”

I sigh and look down at our joined hands. He wasn’t wrong, but there was still that part of me that was scared what would happen if it went badly. I didn’t want to be what came between Garrick and Xaden. I pull my hands from his and stand up, pacing back and forth behind him. He stands and watches me, concern in his eyes. His heart is essentially in my hands right now. And I know that terrifies us both. For me I could say something wrong and wreck this completely. For Garrick. I know he’s never been like this with anyone. He’s never laid out his emotions like this to someone. And that terrifies him. I know it does. If I turned him down, something tells me he would never let anyone in like he has with me.

”You’re right. I won’t deny that Garrick. I’ve been dying to hear you felt the same way I did since….. Since I don’t even know when.” I start, a small smile on the edge of his lips. “But I am so terrified.”

I stop and turn to him from my spot near the window. His eyes meeting mine in an instant due to him watching my every move.

”I am terrified that if this,” I gesture between us, “Goes wrong, then it affects more than us.”

He sighs and nods. “You’re worried about mine and Xaden’s friendship. All of our frienships. You don’t want to come between us.”

I nod. Its as if he can read my mind. “If this went so badly that we don’t want anything to do with each other, it would tear him apart. Not to mention he would probably tear you apart if we did get together.”

”He already knows my feelings. It was kind of hard to hide them five years ago.”

I look at him confused, unsure as to what he is referring to. Then it clicks. Very soon it would be five years since I had ‘died’. Garrick sits on the bed looking down at his hands. As if preparing himself for what he’s about to tell me.

”It was already an emotional day as it was. Watching our parents die and getting our rebellion relics. But we all had each other.” He starts as his gaze flicks to mine before going back to his hands. “I was stood next to Xaden. He and I had just gotten our relics.” His arm with the relic twitching as he tells me the memory. “We all go to leave, but Melgren stops Xaden. I remember how he pulled the bag we had last seen you with from his dragon and threw it at Xaden’s feet.” I swear I hear his voice shake slightly. “I remember the closure breaking and the contents tumbling to the ground. He didn’t say anything to us. He didn’t need to. We knew what he was hinting at.”

He pauses and looks up at me. And my heart nearly breaks at the emotion in his eyes from retelling the memory. I swear I see tears in his eyes before he blinks them away.

“The rest is a blur. Bodhi told me a group of them had to hold me back as I tried to go after Melgren as he walked away. After he went, apparently I just knelt by your things staring. Even Xaden couldn’t snap me out of it. Apparently I even tried to fight him when they tried to get me to move. A few days later before we got shipped off to our new homes, Xaden pulled me aside and I told him everything.” He pauses again. My heart breaks. I never knew what happened. I never knew how they found out. I just assumed they would think I had gotten away or got caught up in our escape. “He just sat there and listened to me as I broke down and told him every single thing. I think he’s the only person to see my cry besides my mother. I swear I even nearly got him to cry as I told him how much I cared for you. How I had planned to find you after all this was done and tell you. But then, I didn’t think I would ever get the chance to.”

Its as if I can see the memory through his eyes. Even I want to cry and I wasn’t even there. I was the one they were mourning at the time. He stands and walks over to me, placing his hands on my hips tightly as if he’s worried I am going to run again. His thumbs rubbing into the exposed skin where my top has ridden up.

“I have waited too damn long to tell you how I feel, and now I’ve been given a second chance. And I will be damned little one, if I don’t take it. Because I am not losing you again.” He rests his forehead on mine, his hazel eyes staring into my green ones. “I am willing to risk everything to give this a go, and I will do everything I can to make sure this does not end. I am yours, and you are mine.”

I know every word Garrick speaks is true. Every word he spoke is fuelled with emotions he’s been holding back. I know without a doubt, if we go down this route, this is it for him. There is no going back. And he will fight with everything he has to make this work. And I know I will to. I barely nod my head before Garrick grasps my face in his hands and his lips are on mine.

A/N 2: Next part might be a little bit..... spicy

Part 13

Tag List: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the empyrean #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #the fourth wing #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x oc

64 notes · View notes

femoso-seben · 2 months

Text

Humanoid Monster

Previous, Next

141 decided to have dinner with the young monsters of the orphanage. The adults were cooking and some of the older children bearded the children into their seats.

“Michael!” The little honey badger screams bitting at the willowy siren who kept singing little taunts to the little girl. “You stink nutty head!”

“Michael,” a dragon roared his wings furrowed out, “stop taunting her.” He commands. Price hadn’t seen this dragon before he looked on the older side, more college-age than middle or high school.

“Who’s that?” Price asks Jezebel.

“Elijah, the third oldest kid that ever enters the orphanage, and the 2nd oldest… ever.” Jezebel hums as the small Hapries climb over her. As a tall girl, they like to jump from her and glide down.

“Who’s the oldest?” Soap asks.

“Her name is Lizzie, she’s a Gorgon and in her residency. She’s going to be a nurse.”

“How did this orphanage start to begin with?” Laswell questions.

“It began with Mother Maia who wanted to keep her pack together. Her werewolves and her daughter. Lobby hard, and it morphs into an Orphanage when one gorgon drops off their deformed baby. Then soon others dropped off their runts.” Jezebel muses.

“Mother!” A new voice shouts. Everyone stops and looks over as a Gorgon walks in in scrubs sunglasses on. Mother Maia walked and the tall Gorgon hugged her.

“My residency is over!” She cheers and jumps up and down, “Since the nurse’s office here is complete I’m applying!” She cheers. Elijah runs up to her hugging her with joy.

“Why not… I don’t know a soldier?” Soap mumbles.

Lizzie looks over and walks straight up to Soap, “Why be around dogs like you?” She loves her sun glass and Soap instantly looks away but stops when he notices her glassy milky eye. She is blind, she can’t turn anything to stone.

Gorgons had a disease, the blindness disease that spread through the clutch. They can still see with the snakes in their head, but it’s still pretty impactful on their life.

“Aren’t clutches that have the blindness disease get squashed?” Soap asks, everyone froze and just stared at him. Elijah looks mad, and he almost storms over. Lizzie put her hand out.

“Yeah and?” Lizzie asks without a second thought. Soap looked around and realize he fucked himself.

“Why aren’t…”

“I dead?” Lizzie asks before smirking. “My mommy,” she said before clinging onto Mother Maia and climbing into her arms. The silence before Elijah also tried to get into her arms the two begin to argue.

Price and Laswell couldn't help but chuckle at the youngsters who were acting like babies, human babies. Mother Maia stood there rigid like a tree. The two were bickering, like they were children again.

In their little territorial dispute and need to dominate and claim Mother Maia’s viel slips off. The crowd gasps and both Lizzie and Elijah scramble to catch her veil and dragged back over her head, right before anyone can see her face.

“Children,” Mother Maia said clipply, “sit and be obedient.” she sternly told them the two got off her and sat down.

Gaz stared at her, she had such control over them it was a tab freaky to him. The small Harpies begin to pull him to their table to eat. Good is brought out shortly. Gaz felt at home, back in his forest for communal dinner.

“Maia,” Laswell spoke up, “can I talk to you in private?”

Mother Maia looks over and nods, “Everyone says your thanks or prayer and you can eat, and don't make a great mess for the janitors,” Mother Maia addresses the room before walking out with Laswell.

——————/\———————

“How did this orphanage start? And when did you get involved?” Price against the entrance and listens in on Laswell’s questions. “This be a great—”

“Publicity stunt?” Mother Maia said softly. She sighs, “… this has gotten out to your world.”

“Yes.” Laswell clears her throat, “We want official words from the orphanage—”

“Why don't you bring in the media so they can see for themselves, I fear you'll twist my words against me.” Mother Maia said calmly, “I can call the media and we can give a public statement.” Laswell eyed her wearily eyes looking to Price.

“I would like that.”

“I believe we can have cameras here by tomorrow or for the day after.” Laswell nods at Mother Maia’s words.

“Will you still answer my question,” Laswell asks.

“I've been Invited since the beginning. I was freshly twenty-one and wanted to keep my family together. The young werewolves would have been forced into the army and I might have lost my daughter. I wanted them near, their family.” Mother Maia begins.

“My first ever orphan was Elijah and then Lizzie. They were dropped off by their parents and soon it spread and all these monsters dropped off their runts, and then I had to contact the government and soon I was funded.” Laswell mods.

“You’re a very, admirable woman.” Laswell smiles and the two re-enter the main building.

——————/\———————

The media crew follows both humans and monsters, they are rather… upset with each other. Though Switzerland gives equal rights to everyone humans and monster still chooses to segregate themselves.

Within Switzerland, Mother Maia is known along with the old wise Abraham. They were usually talked about within the political sphere but the average people knew of them, like a mere rumor.

“Maia,” a monster reporter calls out, “why is this orphanage important to this country?” they ask with a condescending tone.

“We provide over a thousand jobs. We have infant nurses, nurses, nurses in training, then we have the teachers, other orphanage workers, case workers, guards, Janitor, and chief. We give people a normal job after fleeing here.” Mother Maia hums. 141 stands in the background along with a few teenagers.

“Maia,” the human reporter calls out, “do you think it's appropriate for a human to look after monsters and a man-eating dragon looking after human children?”

Mother Maia turns to them and pauses, a silent judgment. “This is called cultural exchange. Humans and Monsters apply to work here. They are expected to work with each other. Here we try not to discriminate.”

“Why haven't any of these kids been adopted?” the monster asks.

141 perked up and moved closer, these kids haven't been adopted? Not a single one?

“The human children are adopted, for every monster child that is adopted around five human children are adopted. It's not that we don't let them be adopted, it's mostly monsters who don't like monsters that aren’t theirs. And those that try, well they are… paramilitaries trying to get more recruiters.” Mother Maia explains.

“Well they get a home—”

“My children aren't going to war, blank period.” Mother Maia straighten up, “Why don't you all interview the children, I'm sure a few of them will talk to you.”

“Do you think it's dangerous to have these monsters near the children?” the human reporter spoke up.

“They are also children. Most of these monsters aren't violent and those that are working on their violent issues—”

“What happens if they attack?”

“This is fear mongering,” Soap mutters angrily.

“Shh,” Laswell shushed them, she wanted to know her next words.

“Hey haven't.”

“So you kill them?”

“No. We don't put down humans or monsters for being violent. That is ridiculous.” Mother Maia walked off before the reporters could say anything.

“Wow, she defended us,” Gaz said a slight sneer in his voice. “I thought she threw us under the bus.”

“She likes her children—”

“She treats them like pets,” Soap sneers and walks after Mother Maia. He wanted to talk to her, and Gaz followed.

“You,” Soap barks grabbing Mother Maia by her dress cuff. “What's your angel?”

“Angel?” she asks. “Are you referring to my stance on humans and monsters?”

“Yeah,” Gaz shifts and folds his arm.

“Human and monster devoid from the divine, humans from angels, monsters from devils—”

“You believe that bullshit?” Soap roars. It's been a long myth of the origin of humans and monsters. Everyone knows that fairytale. It's bullshit to Soap.

“Humans evolved from Monkeys, and we Monsters are divine—”

“Humans are devine to we are made in Angel’s image.”

“You sound delusional—”

“Abraham the oldest known Monster and dragon believes that, and I believe him.” Mother Maia pushed Soap away from her smoothing out her dress and straightening her veil.

“Humans and monsters can live together in harm and there was a time it happened. Both sides can live with harm and when it happens nature will come back.” Soap turns to Gaz with a strange expression.

“You sound—”

“Who are you?” Gaz asks, “Are you a monster?”

Gaz spends a long time reading about the past, all the wars, and negotiations. It fascinated him, and he read all of Abraham’s work and memoirs of the peaceful time.

“I am Mother Maia.”

Taglist: @kkaaaagt, @kaoyamamegami, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @spicyspicyliving

#call of duty #cod x reader #141 #simon ghost riley #cod #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #cod monster au #monster 141 au #monster au #kate laswell

90 notes · View notes

callsign-rogueone · 1 month

Text

mercy - m.s.

Mira Sorrengail x reader Back in your days at Basgiath, you and your friends made up Mercy, a game of spontaneous “assassination attempts”, to prove your strength and skill in single combat. Mira starts a new game, years after the last one ended, and it has unforeseen consequences. 🎧: “I will show no mercy for you, you have no mercy for me, the only thing that I ask: love me mercilessly” - Hatef—k, The Bravery words: 4.5k 🏷: Iron Flame spoilers. NSFW, afab reader but no pronouns used, violent homoeroticism, sparring and a teeny bit of blood, childhood friends to college rivals to lovers, mysterious unresolved tension between you, reader is coded as being on the curvy side bc I am, one very brief mention of past abuse from your father, you could be Dain’s sister but I didn’t say that part out loud for inclusivity’s sake, use of the nicknames bunny (derogatory, but also affectionate), sweetheart, and baby. softdom!Mira, mild predator/prey vibes, fingering, overstimulation, biting (once), aftercare, love confession, soft ending, I proofed this with a migraine so pls ignore any grammar/syntax errors lmao

A cold hand closes around your throat. You know it can only belong to one person.

“Hi, bunny,” Mira purrs, confirming your theory. “Did you miss me?”

Your pulse jumps under her fingers as she moves forward, pressing her body up against your back. You don’t know if you’re more relieved or scared -- she’s alive, but she hasn’t changed a bit, still hellbent on making you play her little game of cat and mouse.

“When did you decide the game was back on?” you ask, finally able to form complete sentences.

“Just now,” she answers, tightening her grip on your neck ever so slightly. “Why? Have you lost your bite? Did those two years in the middle of nowhere make you even softer?”

You burn at the insinuation, bringing a hand up to dig your nails into her wrist -- she hisses in pain, releasing you, and you take the opportunity to slip out from her reach, unsheathing one of the two blades you have left after last night’s events.

You stalk in circles around each other, waiting for someone to strike first.

“Try not to kill each other before I can say hello,” a familiar voice sighs, and your head snaps up.

Brennan is standing twenty feet away from you, alive.

“Truce,” you and Mira declare in unison, suspending your fight.

You rush forward to embrace her brother, hugging him tightly.

He smiles, resting a hand on your back. “It’s good to see you again, kid.”

“Someone knows how to greet people like a normal person,” you say with a glare over your shoulder at Mira, your voice wavering with emotion. You can’t believe Brennan is standing here in front of you, that he’s still alive.

“And someone didn’t punch me straight in the face when they saw me,” he adds dryly.

Your jaw drops. “What the hell, Mir?”

“I don’t regret it,” she says firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Brennan’s gaze lands on the reddened bandage around your arm. “Do you want me to…?”

“Oh, no,” you say, looking down at it fondly. “This was a parting gift from the Colonel. I’d like it to scar.”

Both siblings know who you’re referring to, know that the man who sired you and your brother isn’t Dad to you, just his title — he’s never acted like anything other than your commanding officer.

Brennan doesn’t ask if you’re sure, doesn’t push the issue further. He knows your relationship with your father has always been strained, that the Colonel would’ve had more than just some choice words for you when he found out you were going to desert.

He remembers the last time he saw you, a week before you and Mira were to enter the rider’s quadrant — he was in his third year at Basgiath, “home” for an evening. He’d been the one to answer the door when you’d shown up, not knowing where else to go.

You didn’t want to follow in your father’s footsteps, but you weren’t given a choice; your family are dragon riders, through and through, even if the line of work cost your mother her life.

The mention of her earned you a bloody nose that Brennan had been able to fix near-instantly. You’d spent the night on the Sorrengails’ couch, the two of you silently agreeing to never speak of it again.

Mira burns with anger, but she stays quiet. “I’m so sorry, bunny.”

“It’s okay,” you say with a sad smile. “At least he’s finally out of my life for good. Are the kids here, too?”

Brennan nods. “Vi and Dain are around here somewhere. But things have gotten… weird between them.”

“That’s an understatement,” someone says quite coldly.

You turn, tensing when you see Xaden Riorson standing ten yards in front of you.

“I didn’t expect any members of your family to be joining us, Captain,” he drawls, inspecting you. “Why the change of heart?”

Brennan is about to speak, to vouch for you, but Mira beats him to it. “You of all people should know that it isn’t fair to judge someone for the actions of their parents.”

You put up a hand to stop her, speaking for yourself. “I came here because it was the right thing to do. The name on my uniform means nothing to me, but if you cannot see past it, I will take my leave and fight on my own.”

He must realize that you’re serious. He softens ever so slightly, but does not apologize. “Very well. Welcome to the revolution.”

Mira leaves you alone — and therefore, on edge — for two days, a silent statement that it’s your turn to sneak up on her, that she’s waiting to see if you’ll bite.

Nothing has changed about her, including her workout routine — she’s holed up in the gym before breakfast, when half the fortress is still asleep.

She has her back to the door, settled into a high plank on one of the small stretching mats. A perfect opportunity; she’s already on the floor, unarmed. Easy.

You take a moment to admire the toned muscle of her back and the green rider’s relic spanning her shoulders before you press your boot into her spine.

She yelps, her concentration broken — her sweaty palms slip against the foam, sending her straight to the floor with a soft thud. You lean down to pin an arm behind her back. “Consider yourself dead, Sorrengail.”

Too perfect. Too easy. It’s your turn to squeak as she yanks you down to the floor with her, your back hitting the hard wood with a wet slap. It feels like your skin is on fire. You gasp for air, but you don’t have time to recover before she’s looming over you, that devilish grin on her face that you’ve missed so much.

Your friend rolls her eyes, stopping Garrick from leaping in to pry you and Mira apart. “It’s a game we made up as cadets. The two of them took it farther than anybody else, as you can imagine.”

You manage to gain your bearings, twisting a leg up and over her shoulder, behind her neck and using the other as leverage to squeeze tighter, locking her in place.

She digs into your hips, clawing at you with blunt nails, but you hardly feel it through the thick thermal fabric of your leggings.

“I should make you a little white flag to wave,” you say with a sweet smile, convinced you’ve won.

She hisses at you, some snide remark already prepared, but someone else speaks first.

“I don’t want to know,” Professor Devera says, looking down at the two of you still tangled up on the floor, “but we have work to do.”

You release Mira, letting her pull back and breathe. “Truce?”

“Truce,” she pants in agreement, and you seal the deal with a firm handshake, rising to your feet.

“Does it bother you at all that she could kill you in your sleep?” Garrick asks as you exit the gym and ascend the stairs.

“That’s against the rules,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Since somebody can’t bear to admit defeat,” she adds, glaring at you.

The two Lieutenants can tell that there’s a story here, and there is. The rule was made during your second game of mercy. After a week of back and forth with no winner and no surrender, she’d taken desperate — or cunning, measures, however you view it — and befriended your bunkmate, Sascha, as a guise to get into your room, where she’d struck unexpectedly.

You’d nearly had a heart attack when you’d woken up to see her looming over you. Needless to say, Sascha did not take Mira on another date, and at your insistence, the two of you added a new rule to the game.

“Your target has to be awake, and not doing anything directly related to base safety or following orders,” you explain. “The barracks are fair game, but not the flight field.”

“Truce can be called at any time, but it expires in an hour, or whenever you’re off duty for the day,” Mira adds, and you both make a mental note of the time.

“Anyone can start a game by striking first. Surrenders can last from two days to two years, apparently,” you say dryly.

Mira finishes the set of rules with a narrow glance at you. “And you can’t seriously hurt them. You can act in self-defense, but try not to draw blood.”

“That was one time,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “And you shouldn’t have snuck up on me while I had a knife in my hand! It’s a miracle I didn’t kill you.” There’s a note of hurt in your voice as you remember how close of a call it had been.

As soon as you saw the blood dripping down the pale skin of her neck, you had dropped everything to take her to the healers, terrified that you’d hit a vein — you hadn’t, but you still didn’t resume the game for two weeks afterward, until the cut had fully healed.

Mira smiles. “I’m touched, bun, but I don’t think you could kill me if you tried.”

You only bare your teeth at her in response.

Mira is waiting for you outside the bathroom door, leaning up against the wall looking bored — she must have been here for a while.

She pushes off the wall lazily, smirking at you. “So, bunny, do you want to give up yet? Call it all off?”

You suppress a shiver. “That wouldn’t be any fun,” you say calmly, hatching a plan; you can lose her easily enough, and get back to your room and be safe until breakfast, when you’ll be properly dressed and armed.

You dry your hands on your towel, dropping it at your feet and putting one leg behind you, bent at the knee as if you’re going to have a proper fight -- then run like hell in the other direction.

You hear her chase after you, the pounding of her footsteps matching up with your racing heart as you make turn after turn.

There are two problems with your plan.

The first; this place is a damn maze. All these doors look the same, and you’re moving too fast to look at the numbers posted on them. And like any good maze, there are plenty of dead ends. You skid to a stop as you realize there’s no way out of this hallway — or just one way; past Mira.

You quickly find the second problem; you’re running in wet sandals. You trip over an edge of the thick rug that lines the stone floor, headed straight for the ground, but Mira grabs you by the wrist, breaking your fall.

You steady yourself, yanking your arm away.

She lets you go easily, content to stand a few feet back and taunt you. “Just a defenseless little bunny, walking down the hallway in these cute little pajamas, all this skin exposed… I know you don’t have any daggers hidden under that excuse of a shirt,” she says, looking at you with the shine of something predatory in her eyes. “I can see everything.”

You move to cover yourself, crossing your arms — the fortress is cold, and you hadn’t bothered to wrap your chest just to walk back from the showers… you squirm under her gaze, embarrassed. “I am clearly at a disadvantage in these clothes,” you huff, “not fair.”

“That’s on you. You knew this could happen when you got dressed,” she dismisses. “But you’ve also been at a disadvantage this whole time playing against me. We both know I’m a better fighter than you. Maybe I’ve just been faking to let you believe that you’re all big and strong.”

That’s the last straw. You kick off your shoes and lunge at her, not caring that you’re still in your pajamas, cornered and unarmed — you’re going to end this round now, prove to Mira once and for all that you can go toe to toe with her and come out on top, disadvantaged or not.

She grins. “I was wondering when you’d start really trying.”

You knock her to the ground, though she lands more gracefully than you had the other day -- your back is still tender.

“You really need to switch it up, Bun. This whole wrestling-on-the-floor thing is getting old,” she taunts, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back.

“Shut - the fuck - up,” you pant. “You think this game isn’t getting old? You’re the one who’s stuck in the past.”

You struggle, and she loosens her grip enough for you to hook one arm over her head, squeezing your elbow around her neck in an attempt to get her to give up.

You hear her wheeze, running out of air, and you’re about to triumphantly proclaim your victory when you feel a sharp pinch in your bicep.

She fucking bit you.

You gasp, releasing her and standing upright to cradle your elbow in one hand and inspect the damage. There’s a perfect imprint of her teeth in the muscle, two tiny punctures from her canines. “What the fuck, Mir? That really hurt.”

“Oops.” She rises to her knees and licks up the small beads of blood forming on your skin, making you squirm.

Gross. Well, actually…

You don’t have much time to think about it before she’s pinning you to the wall. You struggle, but she has you trapped firmly against the cold stone.

“All you have to do is admit that I’m stronger than you. Say the word, and I’ll let you go.”

“No,” you spit, “you cheated and you fucking know it. You were the one who made the no-blood rule.”

“Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?” she asks, looking down at you with that signature smug expression. You want to slap it right off her face, but she’s currently holding both of your wrists in one hand.

Your stomach flips at the realization of just how strong Mira is, how easily she can pin you down, how she could do anything to you right now if she wanted.

Okay, now is not the time to be horny. You have a point to prove.

You start to struggle, but she only bears down harder, presses in closer.

“If you wanted this, you could have just asked,” she says quietly, her nose brushing against the side of your neck.��

Your resolve is crumbling. The way she’s talking down to you in that condescending tone and the way her muscles flex as she presses you into the wall have you more turned on than you should be.

You want only one thing more than for her to hold you down and fuck you absolutely stupid, and that one thing is to win, to have Mira Sorrengail beg you for mercy.

You only see one way to get out of this — to cheat, like she did.

You blink up at her, doe-eyed. “Mir, please,” you whimper, pretending to struggle, but all you’re really doing is grinding against the muscled thigh she has wedged between yours.

She takes the bait, loosening her grip and leaning down to nudge her nose against yours, connecting your lips, remarkably gentle.

It feels too good to carry out your plan. You melt right into her, your whole body relaxing, and she drops your wrists to rest her hands on your waist, dipping under the hem of your shirt as she steadies you.

She kisses soft and sweet — a stark contrast to the ache in your arm from where she’d sunk her teeth into your skin.

She pulls away after a moment, smiling at the dazed look on your face. “You wanna be a good little bunny and let me have my way with you? Let me play with that pretty body?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe. It’s not an act; you really do want her hands on you, you have for years. You’ve never felt this needy in your life, never craved anyone’s touch this badly.

You should be more careful what you wish for.

You gasp into her mouth as she tugs aside your pajama shorts and brushes her fingertips against the embarrassingly damp fabric of your underwear, right over your clit.

“Not here,” you manage, clinging to your one last shred of rationality — at any moment, someone could walk out of their room and see you here, in the middle of the hallway, half-dressed, with Mira’s hands all over you.

She appears to agree. She pulls you down the hall by your wrist, wasting no time unlocking her door and leading you through it, pushing you right onto her bed.

Your back hits the mattress and she’s leaning over you in seconds, though the predatory look in her eyes is gone, replaced with something softer.

Your heart pounds. You have no idea what she’s going to do.

“Such a cute little thing,” she coos, her hands moving to knead at the plush of your hips. “Spread your legs for me.”

You comply instantly, starting to take off your shorts, but she stops you.

“Nuh-uh, bun. Keep them on.”

You whine softly, but she doesn’t budge. Her hand slides over your thigh, settling over the soft fabric. “So warm and wet… did you like me on top of you? Like me holding you down?”

“Yes,” you answer readily, panting even though she’s hardly touched you. “N’ liked… liked kissing you.”

It’s a thinly-veiled plea for her to do it again, but it works.

You whine into her mouth as she starts to circle her fingers over your clit through the two layers of clothing, smearing your wetness into them. Her other hand slides up to your chest, squeezing gently through the thin cotton of your shirt.

You should have known that this would be good -- it’s Mira. She knows exactly what she’s doing; she’s had plenty of bedmates over the years, and she isn’t shy about it at all.

You burn with jealousy at the thought of anyone else being in your position, laid underneath her, her hands all over them and her lips on their neck.

Well, that’s new, you think. And not at all concerning.

Your inner monologue is interrupted as she pulls back, guiding you to look at her with a gentle hand on your chin, assuaging your worries. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just you and me here right now.”

You push away the thoughts, closing your eyes and focusing on the three soft sensations -- her lips on your neck, her hands on your chest and between your legs, teasing you…

She hooks her fingers into the thin straps of your tank top, slipping them over your shoulders one at a time and tugging the neckline down until your breasts spill out over it.

She swears softly. “You’ve always had such a pretty body, bun. Shame you keep it covered up all the time.”

You burn at the praise, feeling exposed, but the embarrassment quickly fades as she kisses her way down your neck and across your collarbones, down…

You can’t hold back the gasp as she laves her tongue over your nipple, her free hand thumbing at the other.

“Oh, you liked that,” she muses, smug, but quickly returns her mouth to the other, sucking gently.

You did. You really liked that. No partner has ever paid this much attention to your chest before, only some casual groping before they moved things downstairs. Nobody’s paid this much attention to you, period, taken this much time preparing you for the main event.

You can feel the pressure building between your hips, your muscles tightening. You might actually cum just from the way she’s still circling her fingers over your clit through your underwear, and her mouth…

“Want me to keep going?” She asks, and you can hear the grin in her voice as she continues. “You know what to say. Just one little word.”

You don’t care if this is all an elaborate scheme to get you to admit defeat -- you’d do anything if it meant she’d keep touching you. You’re already addicted to her after one dose; you need her like you need air.

“Mercy,” you beg, “I’ll admit it, you’re— you’re stronger, you’re the better fighter, just please don’t stop, need it so bad,”

“There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she coos, smoothing a hand over your hip.

You let out a soft whimper as she sucks hard on the side of your throat, undoubtedly going to leave a mark.

There’s that rough edge you were expecting.

She pulls down your shorts and underwear in one quick movement, spreading your thighs apart easily. “Gods, bun, you’re soaked.”

Enough for her to slip two fingers right in. She finds that special spot near instantly, laughing when you squeak in shock.

“Oh, right there? Does that feel good?” She asks, even though it’s clear as day that you fucking love it.

You give her a soft sound of affirmation, biting your cheek to hold back the slew of whimpers.

“You’re probably used to keeping quiet, hm? Laying in your bunk with a hand over your mouth, wishing someone was there to make you feel good? Do you think of me when you touch yourself, sweetheart?”

“Yes, ah, I do,” you admit, too far gone to care. It’s true; you’ve spent many a night pretending your hand belonged to her, imagining a moment just like this.

She continues to batter her fingertips against that little soft spot, not letting up for a second. “And does it feel this good when it’s just you alone?”

“No,” you cry, “this is, ah, this is better, oh, fuck, Mira,”

Your fingers flex helplessly, reaching for something, anything to ground you, and she takes pity on you, giving you her hand to hold while you sob into her pillow.

“Shh, bun, it’s okay. Just let yourself feel good. Know you needed this so bad, needed someone to fuck all the thoughts out of that pretty head.”

She strokes her thumb over your clit in time with the movement of her fingers, and that’s all you need; that and her soft voice cooing all those condescending things to you.

You clear your head enough to speak properly, or try to. “Mira, please, gods, fuck, gonna, ah, gonna cum,”

“Go ahead, bun. Cum for me.”

You’ve always been good at following orders.

On her command, every muscle in your body tightens then releases. You grip her hand for dear life as warmth flows through your body, eyes rolling back and cute little whimpers pouring from your lips.

“Fuck, bun, you get so tight when you cum,” she swears, but she doesn’t stop or slow down at all, continuing to press and rub and kiss, overwhelming your senses.

“Too much,” you whimper, squirming away from her touch, but she doesn’t stop.

She shushes you softly. “Just relax for me, sweetheart. It’ll feel better in a minute.”

You sob, dropping your head back onto the pillow in defeat -- you aren’t in a headspace to fight it, and you aren’t sure if you even want to; it hurts, but it’s still so fucking good.

She slows for a moment. “You know what to say if it’s truly too much, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you manage, “I know.”

“Good bunny.”

You whine softly at the praise, gasping as the sharp sensitivity turns back into pure pleasure.

She knows those panicked little whimpers mean you’re close. “It’s okay, bun. Let go for me.”

You unclench your free hand from the sheets, yanking her down by the collar to kiss you as you fall apart beneath her, your soft cries muffled by her lips.

She slows to a stop, letting you ride it out, giving you a few more soft kisses. You whine softly as she withdraws her fingers, feeling empty without them.

She rests her hand on your shaking thigh, petting the soft skin gently. “It’s okay, sweetheart, we’re done,” she soothes. “You did so, so good for me.”

She easily moves you to sit up in her lap, wrapping her arms around you and letting you rest your head on her shoulder.

She hasn't been this tender with you in years. You savor the moment, hiding your face in the curve of her neck as you try to catch your breath.

“Can you look at me?” She asks after a minute.

You lift your head up enough to see her beautiful brown eyes gazing at you with a softness you’ve never seen in them before.

“There’s my pretty baby. Was I too rough with you?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice.

You shake your head. “No,” you promise, nuzzling your face into her neck. “Felt really good.”

You feel great. Your whole body feels fuzzy, your muscles relaxed and your brain completely liquified, all thoughts of the week’s events wiped away save for this moment; Mira holding you so gently, stroking your back — a minute of soft quiet.

You take your chance.

“Do you remember the night we came back from Squad Battle, our second year?” You ask, closing your eyes.

“Of course I remember, bun, that was fucking terrifying. Why…”

You continue. “I couldn’t even make it upstairs to my room, I was that exhausted. I was planning to sleep in the courtyard, until you found me.”

She looks confused. She knows this story; why are you telling it again? And why now?

“You didn’t leave my side for a full day. You helped me shower, found me clean clothes, let me sleep in your bed until you were convinced I wouldn’t die… You put aside the game, and the fact that we’d spent the last two days on opposite sides of a war, because you were that worried about me. I’ve been hopelessly in love with you since that night, and I have spent every waking moment since graduation regretting how we left things. I missed you so godsdamned much, Mir. I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”

You can feel her sigh of relief, her whole body relaxing against yours.

“I love you too,” she says quietly, still stroking your back. “I was so relieved when I saw you again, bun. I wanted to tell you how much I missed you, how sorry I am for ending things that way, but I was too scared. It was easier to just go back to the way things were before,” she admits. “You know I’m no good at that stuff. You’ve always been the one who was good with words, not me.”

You smile, leaning forward to brush your nose against hers. “Then let me tell you every morning and night for the rest of our days how much I love you, Mira Sorrengail.”

#mira sorrengail #mira sorrengail x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing smut #18+#fourth wing x reader #Mira and Bunny #mine

39 notes · View notes

fan-goddess · 8 months

Text

Interviews #1

Pairing: Tom Glynn-Carney x actress!oc

Summary: Snippets of interviews done by Tom Glynn-Carney and Georgia Jones, where pretty everyone but them can see their genuine affections for each other

Warnings: None needed really apart from kissing

Taglist: @humanpurposes, @lovelykhaleesiii, @valeskafics, @arcielee

Authors Note: it’s not my usual type of work sure, but it’s been in my drafts for a good couple of months and I thought I’d post and see what happens

Interviewer: What was a scene you filmed with others that took really long for you to film cause you just couldn’t stop laughing?

Interviewer: Georgia, out of these three please rank first, second and third. Matt Smith, Olivia Cooke… and Tom Glynn-Carney.

Matt: Oooh…I like that! You’re an evil interviewer!

Georgia: That’s not fair one of them is literally right here! -she points to Matt in exasperation-

Matt: I think I already know how this list is gonna go… -Matt let’s out a giggle while he ruffles his hair at Georgias despair-

Georgia: Oh shush you! Okay, this is so hard as I admire all three of them so much-

Matt: Some more than others…

Georgia: Shush your shusher! I’m gonna go Tom first, shush you! -Matt is now near fully laughing covering his mouth with his hand as Georgia points at him- Cause we did more scenes together and that. Plus he’s got a really good sense of humour that I can rely on to make me laugh anytime. Olivia is gonna be second cause whilst we didn’t do as many scenes together, Olivia altogether is such an amazing actress and I loved her work in ready player one which is probably one of my absolute favourite movies! Which oh so sadly means Matt is in last place…

Matt: You’ve broken my heart Georgie! -Matt places his hand on his heart and leans his head back in mock hurt- whose gonna tell the kids that mommy aunt and uncle daddy don’t love each other anymore? -the two break at this point. Both now laughing and grasping their chairs to not fall over-

Georgia: Okay! Now we’ve gotten the heartbreak over and done with! Matt is only last as whilst I love him very much-

Matt: Awe thanks Georgie!

Georgia: We didn’t get to film too many scenes together with our characters in the show. Plus I’ve not really watched at many projects with him in, though I’ve been meaning to watch Doctor who for the longest time with one of my good friends!

Audience member: Hi Tom!

Tom: Hello! -Tom waves enthusiastically with a bright smile-

Audience member: What overall was your personal favourite scene to film in house of the dragon and who was it you possibly filmed it with?

Tom: Ooh that’s a good one! I’ll admit there are a couple that come to mind at first, like the one where I’m wrestling Ewan attempting to escape the crown, -a wolf whistle emerges and all laugh including Tom- But there are others such as some of my scenes with Georgia and her character that became quite interesting for me to see our characters grow on screen. Plus I’ll admit I did really enjoy our kissing scene a lot, -the audience all freak out while one fan makes a more prominent scream than others- see that person gets it! Georgia is an amazing actress who I had such fun working with and can’t wait to see her career flourish more in the future! Though on that topic I guess my favourite is the scene where Aegon is finally able to break down with Alyssa as she comforts him and shows him that love and affection he’s been craving for his whole life. Yeah that’s my answer! -the audience all awes in near unison while Tom seems to cover his reddish face in embarrassment-

Audience member: In another interview, your costar Tom Glynn-Carney said one of his favourite scenes to film was your kissing scene in house of the dragon. Do you also hold this scene close to your heart? -the audience scream in happiness the question is asked and Georgia awkwardly smiles-

Georgia: Well, I have seen that interview and I will just say I don’t think he said exactly that, but yeah, the scenes where our two characters could develop where some of my absolute favourite to film. And by default the kissing scene goes high up aswell -the audience get visibly excited- hey! Calm now dear fans! To answer your question, the kissing scenes was actually one of my favourite to film, BUT! There are others I hold higher in the rankings! Such as the dinner scene and Aegons coronation.

Audience member: This question is directed to Tom and Georgia. What are some personal headcannons you have for your character and which of them would you love to have incorporated into the series?

Tom: ooh I like this! I personally don’t have many headcannons, but I’d love to think that Aegons love language with Alyssa before he can actually be with her officially and in public is like secret gift giving. Like, he’ll literally make maids send her her favourite dessert if she looked even a little upset at dinner, or if he’s on one of his little, escapes in flea bottom and spots a necklace he thinks Alyssa would like he immediately just buys it and anonymously sends it to her like a secret admirer.

-The audience all awe at the headcannon including Georgia who holds a hand to her chest.-

Georgia: That is so cute! God I can’t really think of any I’ve really made myself... um. One thing I think Alyssa did mainly when she was younger, I’m thinkin this on the spot here! She had a diary she wrote in about how she wished to be with Aegon. She’d write like little letters in there which she’d address to him but never give to him. Kinda like that movie to all the boys I’ve loved before, never seen it though before you all start freaking out I’ve only seen the trailer!

Tom: Awe that’s cute! Specially cause you thought of it on the spot too!

Georgia: Thanks! Though I think yours is the best one by far’

Interviewer: Okay, if your character had to sit down and have a drink slash meal with anyone from the game of thrones universe who’d you pick and why?

Tom: God I think the only one I can think of that’d even get along with Aegon may be Tyrion… their both just used to being disappointments in their families eyes and plus they’ll drink together! I don’t know how long it’d last though before they get annoyed at each other though… probably not long to be fair…

Georgia: Ooh good shout that! I don’t know… maybe Daenerys if I’m going basic answer, though Margaery Tyrell is gorgeous so I think I’d love to eat with her! Plus Natalie Dormer is a gorgeous woman aswell I loved her work in the tudors!

Tom: Yeah that is a good shout too!

Audience Member: What are your top three songs in your on repeat playlist on Spotify?

Georgia: Ooh I got to check this lemme try and find which pocket my phones in. -She takes a minute looking through and takes the phone out, scrolling for a couple seconds before bringing the mic back to her mouth- okay so number one is fleabag by Yungblud -fans scream- the second is… of course it is… it’s Romy by sleep walking animals -the fans scream more while Tom grins almost bashfully-

Tom: Wow! I am very truly utterly honoured!

Georgia: Yea yeah moving on! And last of all is I ain’t worried by One Republic, cause I adore Top Gun Maverick easily one of my favourite movies!

#tom glynn carney fanfic #tom glynn carney #aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #actress #my works #Tom Glynn carney x oc #tom glynn carney fanfiction #Tom Glynn carney x actress!OC #aegon targaryen x oc #actress!oc

124 notes · View notes

kradogsrats · 1 year

Text

Aaravos and the Purpose of Dark Magic (It’s Control)

Okay, buckle in because, like Viren, I’m back on my dark magic bullshit. We’re gonna do some thinky-thoughts about what the nature and effects of dark magic are, and why it was specifically created to be that way.

So first to clear up a few assumptions: most of what we’ve been told so far about the history of Dark magic--and what the principal characters believe to be true--is partial or incorrect.

Specifically:

Humans were solely responsible for creating dark magic: False. We’ve suspected for a long time and it now seems pretty clear that Aaravos had at least some hand in creating dark magic.

Before dark magic, humans were miserable outcasts struggling for survival: False. At the time of dark magic’s inception, humans were doing quite well for themselves. Elarion had been a thriving city for hundreds of years.

Humans had no other magic than dark magic: False. There were human primal mages.

So here’s the truth, or some shape of it based on what we have so far seen: before dark magic, even before the dragon monarchy, Elarion had become a thriving city. Humans were on the rise--they had access to magic, though the path to being a primal mage was long and arduous.

Eight hundred years after the founding of Elarion, the dragon monarchy was put in place--and given the subsequent pattern of escalation, I would not be surprised if Aaravos had his fingers in that. Then 200 years after that, Aaravos was involved in the creation of dark magic, whether he created it entirely himself or influenced its creation. Everyone then freaked out, humans were driven from Xadia, Elarion was (maybe) destroyed, etc. etc.

We still don’t know what Aaravos’s goal in all his manipulations is, but it seems to heavily involve humanity and Xadia being pitted against each other. He spends the 700 years after the expulsion of humanity apparently playing both sides, presumably in escalating conflict. It’s almost certain that he was responsible for both Luna Tenebris’s death and Queen Aditi’s fate, either to create chaos in Xadia that humanity could take advantage of, or possibly even introducing a third front in the conflict if dragons and elves could be turned against each other.

So simply by introducing dark magic when he did, Aaravos was definitely escalating the frictions between humanity and elves. He surely knew that the mechanics of it would be repulsive to the other peoples of Xadia. He probably knew that the staff would further escalate the conflict when it came to a head. And ultimately, even if everything after the creation of dark magic was by chance, Aaravos could not have gotten a better result if he planned it: the world is split into two explicitly enemy factions that he can play against each other at his leisure, and as a bonus, humans have been destabilized in a way that makes them reliant on dark magic to survive for the next few hundred years.

That second part is important, because we also know that dark magic is a means of control. It opens you to Aaravos’s influence--up to and including total erasure of your free will.

Therefore, Aaravos grows more powerful the more dark magic propagates. Zubeia says he targeted mages as being susceptible to manipulation, but I think, in the case of dark mages, it was more than that. He deliberately made dark magic to be this way, and we can see it in how dark magic affects people.

To start with, we’ve been told that dark magic attracts a certain personality profile--this actually could be said to be one of the earliest things established about the setting, given the concept pilot and the way proto-Claudia leans in to the magic while proto-Soren shrinks away from it. This is mostly a similar profile to the way Zubeia describes mages Aaravos’s targets: insatiable thirst and fascination with magic, etc. However, with the introduction of dark magic, you get an additional facet--a person pursuing dark magic instead of primal magic is one who wants something badly enough to take shortcuts and make tradeoffs, and to continue to do so as long as what they want is held in front of them. Whether that is a desire driven by greed, fear, pride, or whatever doesn’t matter, the desire itself is a shared attribute that Aaravos can easily exploit.

We are also told that dark magic then amplifies the emotional traits of its users. So whatever fears or desires, whatever insatiable thirst initially lead someone to dark magic are only going to intensify--Viren’s pride and persecution complex, Claudia’s fear of loss and desire to prove herself, etc. These are features, not bugs. The vector for manipulation already exists, and the dark magic persistently reinforces it.

Viren’s spiral through the first arc is a good illustration of this: he gets progressively more and more... like that, because his grief and anger and paranoia are in a full feedback loop. But in addition to his emotions and desires being amplified, he’s drawn more and more into Aaravos’s influence. Even given that Viren must already have been compromised on some level to even consider doing something as dumbass as an unknown blood ritual offered by someone he knows nothing about and can’t speak to, that Viren of season one would be asking a lot of questions that the Viren of season three does not.

In my opinion, this is not because Aaravos has actually done very much in the way of earning his trust. It’s because his influence has wormed (ha) its way deep enough that he can just say shit like this:

That is not the face and words of someone who thinks he needs to be subtle. He knows that at this point, he could literally punch Viren in the dick and Viren would be like “yeah, great idea, thanks.” I won’t say that Viren would be making good decisions without Aaravos nudging him, but I don’t think he’d be making the same decisions--by fairly early in season three, it’s clearly Aaravos’s plan that’s being implemented and Viren is just along for the ride as a figurehead and eventual fall guy (ha).

We even have a visual marker for the progression of Aaravos’s influence over Viren--Viren’s corruption. Now, my belief is still that the visible physical effects of dark magic corruption are basically magic overdose to the point of tissue damage. Corruption explicitly builds up and gets more severe with continued dark magic use, producing effects like being able to sense magic and cast small spells without primal reagents. But we are told explicitly that Viren is corrupted “inside and out,” so there is also an internal, mental/spiritual effect of consistent, repeated dark magic.

This internal corruption isn’t “evil”--this isn’t a setting where “good” and “evil” are absolute, tangible forces, for one--it’s Aaravos’s influence. Sympathy, trust, receptiveness... it’s all laid in with the dark magic corruption. One very subtle but also quite explicit place we see this is when Claudia and Soren argue in season 4--Claudia describes the belief that humans have always been and will always be persecuted by elves (and that Aaravos is a savior) in terms of generational trauma, and as something she knows to be the truth on a physical, bone-deep level. And Soren doesn’t get it:

The dark magic corruption that Claudia carries is enough to make her instinctively believe Aaravos’s version of the narrative so deeply she’s not capable of questioning it. Soren, unaffected, is able to step back and say, “that sounds fake, but okay.”

So the use of dark magic is emotionally cyclical, and the corruption builds with its use, and Aaravos’s potential hold over every dark mage only increases. This is all by design, laid out by the one who designed it. It’s serving its purpose.

But back to the possession for a moment: “Callum only used dark magic the one time and that still left him vulnerable to full possession by Aaravos!” I hear you cry, “Why doesn’t Aaravos ever possess Viren the same way?”

Well, he almost definitely does, he just goes to some effort to keep Viren from realizing it. We have two occasions where Viren exhibits the same eye-glow effect as Callum does while possessed:

One is here, where Aaravos has Viren very blatantly resist arrest, basically eliminating any chance he has of talking his way out of Opeli’s treason charges. Viren explicitly thinks he’s still in control here, that Aaravos is just offering up his power and knowledge to him. He argues with Aaravos that he can continue to fight, and even win the battle--but that doesn’t suit Aaravos’s purposes as well. Viren alone and on the run is a lot less useful than Viren positioned within range of the throne, even if he’s imprisoned.

And the other time is at the top of the Storm Spire, where Viren is in so deep that he still thinks all of this is somehow for his benefit:

There’s actually a close-up shot of Viren’s eyes going from dark magic purple glow to Aaravos blue/iridescent. They very specifically and deliberately showcase the moment it happens. But Viren still believes he’s the one steering.

So why does Aaravos handle Viren differently from Callum? Well, to put it simply, you don’t need to kick someone’s legs out from under them if they’ll kneel when you ask. Furthermore, one of Viren’s strongest personality traits is that his pride makes him crave control--so removing a level of control as basic as his own bodily autonomy would be an incredibly hostile act in what is ostensibly a friendly relationship. Aaravos maintains the illusion that Viren is the one in control all the way to the end, because forcibly puppeting Viren the way he does Callum is probably one of the only things that could actually turn Viren against him.

Callum, on the other hand, is already hostile. Aaravos knows that he can’t manipulate Callum the same way he did Viren--Callum’s personality and desires are too divergent. The only way he’ll bring Callum to do his bidding voluntarily is through fear, anger, or despair. (CHET fans insert your own meta here.) Forcibly possessing Callum then actually serves that goal, in that it’s a demonstration that a) he has total power over Callum and can do whatever he wants (fear), b) there’s nothing Callum can do to stop it (despair), and c) he’s a massive asshole to everyone Callum loves (anger). It’s a little appetizer, so that when it’s time for the main course, Callum will know what the stakes are.

And where does Viren fall in this at the end of season 4? Well, in this recent interview, Aaron Ehasz describes Viren as having been “forced to make the decision to use dark magic.” This is an interesting phrasing, because it specifically suggests both agency and lack thereof.

Viren spends most of season 4 making the choice not to use dark magic--I’m not going to dig into why, at this time, but between the start and end of the season’s arc he refuses to either use dark magic or even touch either of the staffs. This is most dramatic when Claudia tries to defer to him for the chrysalis-opening spell since he is (in her mind) the more powerful and experienced mage, but he also explicitly refuses the staff when Claudia brings it back from the Storm Spire, and from that point on it is generally Terry lugging it (and frequently the Sunforge Staff, as well) around.

And then this happens:

I need to think about this line for another hundred years or so, because it’s just... so much. So, so much. But a couple immediately notable things:

This the last clear, full line Viren speaks in the season. His only other voice line after this is his “You!” when recognizing Rayla.

The length of the shot in which he reaches to pick up the staff, combined with the music cue, is really over-the-top dramatic. Some of that is due to the drama from the other side, with Rayla suddenly encountering her two-year fixation, but it’s not a coincidence.

And from there, he’s casually melting their way out of the mountainside. He’s back to full-drama magic use--Claudia could certainly have gotten them out of the mountain, if she had to, but now he’s the one taking the lead on magic, again. He’s apparently all-in on freeing Aaravos, given his satisfaction with Claudia’s summary of next steps. And, of course, he’s got his corruption face back on, after us having not seen it all season. In short, while he doesn’t have the posession eyes, he’s still firmly back on his Aaravos’s bullshit.

This also brings in a factor that I haven’t talked about yet--the staff.

The Staff of Ziard, the Relic Staff, whatever you want to call it. (Personally, I’m going to stick with Relic Staff, just because I think focusing on Ziard muddies things too much.)

The Relic Staff, we can pretty much assume at this point, was crafted by Aaravos to be given to Ziard, the first dark mage. And in the same way that Aaravos set up dark magic to his own advantage, he definitely has shit going on with the staff. It has seemingly unique properties related to dark magic, in terms of spells it’s able to act as a power source for--most notably the spirit entrapment (coin) spell, and the massive magic drain spell cast by both Ziard and later Viren. It’s specifically required to open the chrysalis. (According to Aaravos, that is--it could very well be that it will be necessary for something else that he doesn’t want to reveal, and isn’t related to the chrysalis at all.)

At the very least, it makes sense for the staff to enhance Aaravos’s influence over its bearer--it’s a powerful relic, passed down from the first dark mage (even if, as I suspect, history no longer remembers that). People are going to fight over it. It’s going to naturally wind up in the hands of the most powerful person around... who is then firmly in Aaravos’s thrall.

One interesting thread here is, if we work with the assumption that Aaravos is on some level directing both Claudia and Viren’s impulses toward his own ends, is that Claudia spends the whole season trying to give the staff back to Viren. Even after he won’t take it, she prefers using the corrupted Sunforge Staff. Granted, she’s been using that one for two years now and so probably likes it quite a bit, but given the Relic Staff’s nature and properties, I would have expected it to also have the effect that once you’ve got it, you’re extremely reluctant to let it go. In the end, Claudia doesn’t even stop at just pushing the staff back on Viren, she straight-up leaves it behind on the floor.

And Viren--to go back to the interview quote--both makes the choice to pick it back up, and is forced into all that entails. He’s also explicitly not picking it up for Claudia, but for himself. It’s a choice he makes with as much agency as any he has ever made.. but it’s definitely a choice Aaravos wanted him to make.

There was a lot of speculation before season 4 came out that Aaravos would be discarding Viren in favor of Claudia, but at this point I think the opposite is true--Aaravos wants Viren’s hands on that staff, so Claudia isn’t as compelled by it. Claudia is, as Aaravos noted, a valuable asset, but she’s still just a secondary piece being moved around in order to get his real goals back on track. Viren is still central, and there’s some reason for that we have yet to see.

Anyway, both the Relic Staff and dark magic itself were built from the ground up by Aaravos specifically to allow him to easily influence/control humanity and have that control both propagate and filter to the people who would be most useful to him as pawns. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk about how humans are fucked.

#i didn't even get to the part where aaravos is able to corrupt actual sources of primal magic so #the dragon prince #dark magic #viren #aaravos #tdp spoilers #the dragon prince spoilers #did i edit this? at all? ha ha FUCK no

436 notes · View notes