#the Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 2

Chris Redfield x FM! Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 (you are here) | Part 3 | Part 4

Synopsis: It's the morning after Chris Redfield took care of you and things are oddly... domestic?

Includes: MDNI - NSFW, fluff, banter, angst, oral (FM reader receiving), porn with plot, use of pet names (sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, baby, gorgeous), minor reader injury from previous part, reference to drinking in the previous part. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' otherwise. Reader is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

A/N: WOO this took so long to get out. I can't write linearly to save my life and my writer brain wanted to work on plot stuff taking place after this chapter. On the bright side the next few parts should get done quicker. Hopefully. This is also my first spicy writing thing so have fun!

wc: 6.5k+

The first thing you notice when you wake up the next morning is the pounding headache behind your eyes and a throbbing in your foot. You lift an arm over your face and groan, the cheery brightness of the morning sun still too much for your blurry eyes to properly accommodate to. For a few precious minutes, you just lay in bed trying to string together a coherent thought other than, ‘I’m never drinking whiskey again,’ because you know that promise won’t last the month.

Then it all comes back to you. The almost-bar fight. Chris driving you home. The broken glass. Chris comforting you. Bits and pieces of the previous night stitch themselves together and you are both relieved and embarrassed of its events.

It feels like a monumental weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sure, the dirty looks would stay along with your reputation, but Chris Redfield doesn’t think you’re a monster. However, the relief is almost overshadowed by a creeping sense of embarrassment. You never show that kind of vulnerability in front of anyone. Not even Albert after the Mansion incident.

Despite the conflicting feelings, you’re thankful that Chris had the foresight to put you into your bed and tuck you in. Everything after crawling into Chris’ lap and crying your eyes out is hazy due to your alcohol consumption, but you do have a distinct memory of being lifted off the ground and carried by a pair of strong, warm and comforting arms past a broom propped up on the doorway to the kitchen.

The broom. The glass. Your foot. There’s still blood and glass in the foyer that you have to clean up.

With a groan, you roll out of bed, stretching to relieve some of the tightness in your muscles that accompanies a bad hangover. It’s at this point you realize you’re wearing a sweatshirt that you hadn’t worn the night before. Your heart stops in your chest until you lift the hem of it and see you’re still wearing the nice shirt you wore to your D.S.O. interview the day before.

Chris. Always the gentleman.

You take stock of what you’re wearing; oversized sweatshirt, nice shirt, nice pants, no socks, but a sizeable amount of gauze is on one foot. While you take stock of yourself and your surroundings, you also notice a couple aspirin and a sports drink on your bedside table that you know you didn’t have in the house last night. Chris cared both about your comfort and boundaries while intoxicated, as well as the aftermath of it. He even went out and bought you items to help with your hangover.

Another event to add to the overflowing list of reasons why you don’t deserve him.

Or do you? He doesn’t fault you for your dead husband’s actions. He goes to bat for you when the B.S.A.A., D.S.O., or any other anti-bioterrorism organization is up your ass. He listens when you need to vent and drink your sorrows away. He’s kind. He’s considerate. He’s a good man. He’s everything that Albert wasn’t.

Stop it.

You pop the aspirin in your mouth and wash it down with the sports drink, dismissing any other thoughts on how good Chris had been to you. Things in your life were already too complicated. No use in entertaining far-fetched fantasies. He’s got to be this considerate with anyone, right? You couldn’t recall a specific instance comparable to last night that would justify that thought, but you try to think of one as you strip off the clothes from the night before and throw on some clean loungewear. You opt to wear some sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

As you get dressed, you rediscover an offer letter that you’d forgotten to reject. Even though your last name gave you a reputation, numerous branches of the B.S.A.A. requested your transfer every year due to your expertise in bioweapons research. After all, who would be better at combatting these threats than someone who witnessed their creation and aftermath? This one was more tempting than most; an offer to work in B.S.A.A. Europe HQ in Germany, Head Researcher position, fully furnished apartment included and competitive salary.

You crumple the offer letter and toss it in the trash. Tempting, but stability is on the top of your list of priorities at the moment. An international move is the opposite of that. You go into your bathroom attached to your bedroom and do your morning routine, opting to worry about a shower later.

You go out into the hallway, hobbling a bit with the injured foot but staying upright without trouble. The aspirin is starting to kick in and you’re already feeling a bit better. You make a list in your head of things to get done before burying yourself in blankets on the couch; sweep up the glass, mop the foyer of the remaining blood, take a shower, make a greasy breakfast, binge watch something.

Your mental list is interrupted by sounds coming from your kitchen. Confused, you turn down the hall and see Chris’ car keys still on the table in the entryway. You also see the floor is devoid of glass, blood, and the medical supplies from the night before.

Chris hears you pad into the kitchen and flashes his signature grin as he turns bacon on your stove with a fork. There’s a plate with finished bacon pieces on a paper towel next to the stove, as well as two plates with toast.

“Morning Doc.”

“Morning. You stayed the night?” Your tone is cordial. It’s not accusatory because, oddly enough, you don’t mind Chris sleeping over. At any point before last night, you would have been miffed and probably would have given a speech arguing you could take care of yourself and that he had a lot of nerve spending the night considering your history. But Chris making you breakfast still stirs up that guilt of him doing more nice things for you to add on to the laundry list of favors he’d done for you over the years. But you can’t deny the smell of what he’s cooking makes your mouth water.

“Yeah, I took the couch. You had a lot to drink. I just wanted to make sure you woke up okay.”

You snort. “Right. You sure you weren’t just avoiding having to sleep in the barracks last night?”

Chris chuckles at your joke and holds his hands up in playful surrender. “You got me. Can’t pull the wool over your eyes.”            

You return the smile and hobble next to Chris by the stove, leaning on the counter next to him just watching him cook. You have to make a conscious effort to focus on the food, and not to stare at Chris’ battle toned forearms for too long.

“Now I can accept you making sure I don’t choke on my own vomit, but this-” You gesture to the stove and the entryway, “-is crossing the line. You’re in my house. I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around.”

“What? I can’t treat my host to breakfast and a cleaner house?” He’s still jovial when turns his attention back to the stove and turns the bacon.

“That’s reverse hospitality,” You quip.

“Then consider me a reverse guest,” Chris answers.

You let out an exasperated sigh and your body slumps. “Chris, seriously you didn’t have to do all that-”

“I wanted to.” Chris stops looking at the bacon in the pan and looks you in the eyes.

You two stare at each other in silence, gazes locked in a battle of wills.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself.” Chris says softly, with a hint of authority in his tone.

“I know that.” You bite back, challenging him.

Chris raises an eyebrow, and you see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you?”

More silence. You let out another sigh and you break from his gaze to stare at the floor instead.

“You’ve already done more for me than I could ever hope to repay. I don’t need to owe you more favors for something like last night.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Bullshit.” You look back up at him in disbelief; mouth open and eyebrows knitted together.

“No bullshit. I’m serious.”

You open your mouth to argue more, but Chris shushes you and places a cup of hot tea in your hands before you can protest. You didn’t even notice it sitting next to the stove. You feel the comforting warmth of his fingers ghost over yours as he guides your hand to take hold of the mug handle.

“No bullshit, you have my word. Now sit down, rest that foot, enjoy your drink, and let me handle everything else.”

You open and close your mouth, trying to articulate a response. There’s not much you can say to argue against that, especially when his gentle touch is making your brain go haywire. The captain is a man of his word. Those perceptive eyes of his hold no hint of deception, only genuine kindness like you saw the night before. Not to mention there’s something undeniably attractive about him wanting to take care of you in such a gentle, authoritative manner. You relent and take a sip of tea trying to calm your racing heart.

“Thanks.”

Chris’ face lights up and he flashes another smile. “Thatta girl. How do you like your eggs?”

You try to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when he says that. “I’m not picky, however you’re having them.” You push yourself off the counter, snatch a piece of bacon from the plate and hobble over to the barstool sitting area at the kitchen island behind Chris.

“Save some for your meal.” You hear Chris smiling as he says that.

“I’m making sure it’s crispy enough. Sue me.”

Your conversation goes on in that comfortable rhythm all throughout breakfast; casual conversation with witty remarks thrown in followed by a joke that starts the cycle all over again. Chris sits on the stool next to you, and you both enjoy the two plates of toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon that Chris had made.

“You’re going to spoil me at this rate.” You say with a grin.

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It kind of is. You’re going to make me miss having you around to clean up my messes and make me food.” You eat your toast, keeping up the playful banter.

“And what if I am?” The way Chris says that doesn’t make it sound like he’s joking, but you brush it off and roll your eyes, munching on the last of your bacon. “I’d call your bluff.”

“Why do you think it’s a bluff?”

You sit there just looking at your fork for a beat, trying to think of the best way to phrase your thoughts. You can’t think of anything, but you turn your gaze back to Chris and answer him with a question. “Because why would you care if I miss you?”

“Because who wouldn’t want the attention of a woman like you?” Chris’ expression shifts from that kind expression you’re used to, to a more wistful and romantic one.

Your mouth goes dry and your heart races in your chest. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. “People with half a brain and a shred of common sense.” The statement is said with your signature dry sense of humor, but there’s also an edge of something akin to a warning. It doesn’t deter Chris in the slightest.

“Ouch. At least I’ve got my looks going for me,” he quips with a smirk. It amazes you that he’s still joking about something you think is so serious. It makes you want to wipe that sexy smile right off his face. Whether it’s with a kiss or sharp words is still up for debate.

“Chris-” You warn sharply.

“Doc-” Chris says, pleadingly.

“No. It’s a bad idea. End of story.” Your tone comes out much gentler than you intend. You pick at the last of your food, not wanting to look at Chris and betray your true feelings that you’ve tried so hard to suppress over the years. He killed your husband. Your evil, narcissistic, psychopathic husband. Despite who Albert was, it felt like you would cross some sort of moral boundary you couldn’t come back from if you indulged in those thoughts. But the longer Chris looks at you with that wanting gaze, the less imposing that boundary becomes.

“You know me. I love bad ideas.” As Chris speaks in a low, romantic tone, your mind runs wild and your cheeks flush red with all the possible interpretations of his words.

You hear the barstool next to you squeak, Chris’ hand comes into your vision, rests delicately on your cheek, and tilts your head back towards him. His face is dangerously close to yours. You see every detail of his face; his dark hazel eyes, the small mole under his right eye, the stubble on his jaw, the subtle hair growth around his mouth and chin, and finally his lips.

You don’t know who leans in first, but one moment you’re committing Chris’ face to memory, and the next your lips are against his. Your eyes close and time stops. The kiss is slow, methodical and fills you with a pleasant warmth that makes your stomach flip and heart skip a beat.

You can’t remember the last time you had a kiss like this, and you don’t want to. All you want to do in this moment is experience everything Chris has to offer. Everything.

It feels like an eternity has passed when you both finally break for air. You breathe in a shaky breath. Shaky from how weak in the knees the kiss made you, as well as nervous energy from crossing that boundary you’d made for yourself. You just kissed the man who killed your husband and you liked it. Not only that, but that kiss stirred something lustful inside you that makes you want even more.

“Look at me pretty girl.” Chris whispers. His hand still holds the side of your face while his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

You open your eyes, and you see Chris smiling at you. It falters and switches into something much more concerned when he sees your conflicted look.

“We can stop if you want to. I can leave and we can agree this never happened if that’s what you want.” You can feel his hot breath on your face as he murmurs in a low tone.

Maybe it’s the residual feeling of safety due to the events of the night before, an accumulation of repressed want from years working alongside each other, or maybe it’s just the need to feel someone else’s loving embrace. Morality be damned. Maybe it’s the pounding of your heart drowning out all common sense, but you crave the man in front of you more than anything in the universe right now. Your next words come out in a wanting murmur.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

This time, it’s you that leans back in to kiss Chris’ incredulous expression, but he immediately melts back into your lips. Once it’s established that this is something you’re craving, Chris earnestly returns the enthusiasm. Sweet kisses morph into fervent tastes for more as your lips intertwine with Chris’. Tongues dance in a teasing duel for dominance that you are all too happy to lose just so you can feel how eager Chris is to feast on your sighs of pleasure. Bask in your shivers of ecstasy. Relish in your desperate pants for oxygen from him taking your breath away.

The only thing you can even comprehend with his inviting tongue intertwining with yours is that it’s not enough. You want more. You need more. More of his warmth, more of his lips, more of him. The heat that Chris awoke in you has grown from mere embers to a growing, starving flame that wants to savor and devour everything that’s yet to come.

It doesn’t take long to know Chris feels the exact same way. Committing your pleasure to memory with his hands and lips won’t do. With how far you were leaning into his embrace, you were halfway to touching his lap already, but Chris eagerly expediates the process. His hands abandon your cheek and neck to claim your hips and guide you to sit on his lap where you belong. You take a sharp intake of breath and clutch Chris’ shoulders for balance from the change in position, but Chris is quick to soothe your concerns while keeping his lips on any inch of your skin he can reach.

“Don’t worry baby I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

You reposition yourself on his lap so you feel more secure in Chris’ grasp, but you accidentally grind against his crotch. A deep groan is released from Chris’ lips and he kisses your skin with more fervor. Being positioned the way you are on his lap, it’s difficult not to notice the growing hardness underneath his jeans.

“All that for me?” You try to be sultry, but don’t do a good job of it because you can barely get any discernible words out with how hard you’re breathing.

“Have you seen yourself sweetheart?” Chris leaves wet kisses from your collarbone to your neck, then captures your lips in a ravenous kiss. “Fucking gorgeous with your cheeks all red like that…”

Chris lifts you up off his lap effortlessly and you gasp and hold onto his shoulders as he places you on the counter in front of him. Once you’re secure, his hands are quick to wander and caress everything he can reach; from your hips, to your ass, to your thighs, then hips, then ribs, lower back then repeating the pathing again. Eagerness and patience are at war with each other as he alternates between greedily clutching each soft feature and methodically caressing every one of your curves as if trying to commit them to memory.

You’re breathing heavily when he rips his lips away from yours and starts kissing you down your jaw to your throat. He feverishly leaves open mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin tenderly yet enthusiastically. You can tell he’s savoring every part of you, clearly eager to do more but wanting to enjoy every detail of your physique first. It takes no time at all for him to find the spots that make you squirm and pant in his embrace. When his teeth lightly graze your pulse point, your legs reflexively tighten around his waist, but you accidentally bump the barstool behind Chris with your injured foot with a loud clunk and curse. The throbbing in your foot is back with full force, making you wince. Worse, Chris pulls away from your neck and stares at you intensely with a worried look. Slightly flushed cheeks and labored breath.

“You alright?” He looks behind him and sees the scene of the crime, and lightly scoots the barstool a safe distance away with his foot. Chris moves to lean down and examine your foot, but you’re quick to grasp his face and lovingly bring it back to yours. You kiss Chris’ cheek and give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” You lean back in to kiss Chris, ignoring the shooting pain from your injured foot and getting lost in the intoxicating taste of his lips. Chris’ worried expression melts away somewhat, but he still speaks lowly between breaks for air.

“You need to rest that foot on something.”

“Later,” You whisper, going back in to capture his lips again.

The captain slides one of his large, calloused hands on the back of your head and strokes the hair there, and you think you’ve convinced him to drop the subject. Oh how wrong you are.

In one moment, you’re getting lost in the feeling of Chris’ hands on the back of your head and shoulders, and the next Chris has pushed your plates to the side and laid you swiftly, but gently, on your back.

“Chris!” You whine as you try to sit up, but you’re stopped by a large hand putting weight on your ribcage and fleeting kisses down your neck and chest. His voice is muffled from how close his face is to your trembling body, but you hear him speak in that authoritative, husky voice again as he continues to kiss further down your chest. “Uh uh, you stay put.” You’re about to protest the change in position, wanting nothing more than to keep Chris’ lips on yours, but his lips on your inner thigh make your words die in your throat. Chris lightly sucks the area while his darkening gaze is honed in on your face.

“I meant it when I said you need to rest that foot…” Chris places another lingering kiss on your inner thigh slightly closer to your aching core. “…so be a good girl and put those pretty thighs over my shoulders.”

The effects of his words are immediate; blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that you feel lightheaded, the heat in your abdomen that was kindled by his touch burns hotter, and your lips part in silent shock and anticipation of what he’ll do next. For once, your brain has short circuited, and you don’t have anything to say. All you can do is gape and nod as you hook your knee with the injured foot over his shoulder.

“Good. Now I want you to relax and let me take care of you. Okay?” The low vibrating timbre of his voice is so close to your aching clit that you arch your back and whine, nodding.

Chris continues to be a paradox of patience and eagerness as he coaxes more and more delicious sounds from you. His large hands greedily grasp the flesh of your hips and thighs, but don’t grope close enough to give you the stimulation you crave. His mouth worships the space between your thigh and groin but never dares venture further than the rolled-up edge of your night shorts where you’re clenching around nothing. He never stimulates what is begging to be loved underneath despite how much both of you crave it.

“Chris…please.” You beg, eyes clouded over with lust and need.

“Hmmmm… I don’t hear you say that a lot.” You can practically hear the shit eating smile in his voice as Chris keeps kissing you the same way as before, but one of his fingers teasingly traces the hem of your shorts. He’s right. You don’t. That little comment would infuriate you if the wetness between your thighs and throbbing clit weren’t on the top of the list of things on your mind right now. If you have to say please to get Chris to take care of you, you’ll relent and do it.

“Please just to-oooh!” Your desperate request is cut short by a moan being released from the back of your throat.

Chris keeps kissing the sensitive spots between your thighs, but two of his fingers have slipped under the edge of your shorts by the groin and is lightly rubbing the fabric over your engorged bundle of nerves. He experiments with different speeds and pressures until he finds the ones that make your back arch, eyes roll to the back of your head, and thighs close around his face. Just when you’re bucking your hips into his hand and you feel your pleasure building, you feel his fingers retreat.

“Chris!” You whine, body relaxing back into the counter but desperate for more of his touch.

“I know baby, I’ll take care of it.” Chris assures you as he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your shorts and underwear, pulling them to one side then practically diving into your dripping folds. His mouth is greedy when he’s finally between your thighs where you want him to be. Chris’ tongue laves at your entrance with long, languid strokes at first, but quickly devolves into him thrusting his tongue into your cunt so deeply that his nose is bumping your clit with each plunge of his tongue and you writhing and panting in pleasure as your climax quickly builds back to where Chris’ fingers left off.

He tries to be patient and draw it out for your sake, he really does, but you taste too good. Your moans and whimpers of ecstasy sound too pretty. The way you’re grabbing his forearm arm that’s caging your hips to the counter for dear life that so obviously signals how close you are is the biggest turn on. His mouth gorges on your release and he swears it’s his new favorite meal.

That starving flame in your abdomen that Chris has been feeding this whole time is so close to overtaking you, but you need more and Chris can sense this in how you tremble around him and desperate cries of his name tumble from your lips. He replaces his tongue with one of his fingers and he keeps up the same speed and intensity while his lips latch on to your clit, gently sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves and tongue making purposeful, salacious strokes that makes your face contort in delight.

You fall apart in mere moments. Your back arches as you feel your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. You cling to Chris’ forearm as you ride out the powerful sensation. Even with your thighs closing in around his head, his lips don’t let up their assault on your clit until you’re bordering on being overstimulated and trying to push his head away. Your thighs twitch from the aftermath, your cunt and clit throb from the greedy attention of Chris’ lovemaking, and you’re pretty sure you have breadcrumbs in your hair from the toast in the long forgotten breakfast that was made for you.

Even with all of that, it still leaves you with a warm, comfortable sense of pleasure and a blissfully hazy mind.

Chris gently laps up the mess between your folds with his tongue, both determined not to let a drop of you go to waste as well as to prolong your pleasure while you come back down to Earth. With a final quick kiss to your clit that makes your hips twitch into his mouth, Chris tenderly moves the crotch of your panties and shorts back over your pelvis. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe your release from his chin, and licks his finger clean.

You feel boneless when he sits you up. You’re breathing is shallow, but slowly returning to normal when Chris brings you to his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and lazily wrap your arms around his waist. His hand is under your shirt at your lower back, hand pressed against your spine and rubbing the area firmly while his other hand cradles your head at the back of your neck. For the first time in what feels like years, you feel wanted and loved. The warmth of his hands and arms as well as his breath in your ear feels so addicting. You don’t want him to let go.

“You still with me gorgeous?” He whispers into your ear.

“Yeah…” You mumble, smiling into Chris’ neck as he cuddles you. A deep chuckle vibrates in Chris’ chest, and he plants a soft kiss on your temple. Then another one on your cheekbone. Then another next to your ear…

You giggle and close your eyes, “Someone’s eager.”

“Hard not to be with such a beautiful woman in front of me.”

After a few more kisses Chris gently moves you off his shoulder so you can sit up and look at him with half lidded eyes. For a moment you just sit there blinking slowly at him relishing in his embrace, and he’s just smiling at your fucked out expression. His hand slides from the back of your next to your cheek. He rubs the skin there with his thumb for a moment, then leans in to kiss you properly.

Just when Chris is a breath away from tasting your lips, a jarring ringtone cracks through the air and brings you back to reality. It’s Chris’ phone, but he doesn’t make a move to answer it. He only pauses at the first ring and captures your lips in a sweet kiss on the second.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“They’ll call back if it’s important.” Chris murmurs against your lips and goes back in for more, seemingly drunk off the taste of you and your affection as you chuckle and kiss him back. After a few more seconds, the phone stops ringing only for it to resume again almost immediately after.

“I guess it’s important.” You sigh against Chris’ lips when you reluctantly pull away. Chris lets out a frustrated breath and pulls back, still not making a move to answer the call. His gaze darts from your eyes to your lips like he’s thinking about ignoring it again. You know better. The captain is a busy and well-respected man. You’ll be damned if that gets ruined because he can’t keep his hands off you. You smile sympathetically at him and kiss his cheek.

“I’ll clean up while you take care of that.” You move to get off the counter, but Chris’ strong hands at your hips stop you.

“I told you that you need to rest your foot.”

“You can convince me to elevate it again after you deal with that soldier boy. But until then-” You lean to the side to grab Chris’ phone, remove his hand from your hip, then plop the phone in his palm. “-duty calls.” You reply cheekily, giving the speechless captain a smirk before lowering yourself off the counter to collect the plates.

Chris shakes his head, smiles, presses a button on his phone and lifts it to his ear. “Hello?” You turn on the sink and begin washing the plates. You hear Chris reply in a more serious tone, and turn out of the kitchen to take the call in the living room. “Yeah, this is Captain Redfield.” Over the sound of the water you can’t hear who’s on the other end, but you can gather this is a serious conversation. You just hope it isn’t notifying Chris of a new outbreak, or something else that would require his immediate attention. You’d hate for it to disrupt such a pleasurable morning.

After you finish washing the plates, you turn off the tap and begin drying them. The speaker on Chris’ phone isn’t loud by any means, but in the silence of your little house you can clearly hear the conversation in the living room from your kitchen sink. And on the other end of the call, you hear a familiar, grating voice.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s the D.S.O. agent from your interview the day before. From the sound of it, the agent still had a stick up his ass and seemed to be grilling Chris with the same intensity he was questioning you. You can make out the tinny voice of the D.S.O. agent, clearly not liking Chris’ answers. “You want to know what I think captain? I think you’ve been soft on her.”

You can hear the scowl in Chris’ voice when he answers the agent with the same level of disdain while also remaining professional. “And I think you’re being harsh because you’re trying to see things that aren’t there. Aren’t government agents supposed to practice due process? She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Her husband almost destroyed the world. You really expect me to just take her word that she didn’t help?”

“She has been nothing but cooperative since then. Every bit of information she’s given the B.S.A.A. has checked out. Plus, her work after the fact has prevented more outbreaks than I’m cleared to talk about. There is no reason to suspect her of bioterrorism.”

There’s silence on the other end of the call, then the sound of a throat being cleared. “Well captain I called to inform you that I need to bring in a third party to verify your claims. No hard feelings of course, but I do believe your history with her is clouding your judgement.”

A range of emotions hits you all at once when you hear that. Anger at this asshole for being thick in the head. Annoyance at the fact that you’ll probably have to do yet another pointless interview about Africa. Then finally, a paralyzing uneasiness at the agent’s implication against Chris. You’ve been too soft on her. Chris’ high professional opinion of you alone results in distrust.

“Yeah, you do that. We done here?” You hear Chris reply cooly, but the rest of the conversation in drowned out by your inner turmoil.

Chris being in close professional proximity to you already turns heads, and not in a good way. Sure the people who can understand your work respect your intellect and appreciate the help, but everyone else sees the shadow of Albert’s memory.  

All is takes is someone breathing the name Wesker and the seed of distrust is already planted. Chris being in your corner alleviates some of that, albeit with bewildered looks and reluctant agreement.

You working with Chris is already unusual, but people respect him so they go along with the strange dynamic you two have. Would that respect remain if people knew you were fucking him? Would his team still follow him with full confidence into battle with no questions asked if they knew he was making you cry out his name after the mission was said and done? Would Chris still be sent on missions to clear up the loose ends of Umbrella’s misgivings if his superiors knew he was coming home to you, who literally slept with the enemy? In your mind, absolutely not.

How could you be so reckless? So selfish? You know you won’t be able to salvage any of Chris’ reputation by your own volition. Only taint it. In your mind, there can easily be a future where you and Chris are together, but the world slowly falls apart because of the distrust of you and the once infallible captain. True, Chris isn’t the B.S.A.A.’s only veteran, but he’s undoubtedly one of the most revered.

Before you can spiral further, two calloused hands grip your hips and a pair of lips tenderly kiss the space behind your ear. You can hear a smile and a suggestive mischievousness in Chris’ voice.

“I have to head out soon to handle a few things, but I’m going to make sure that foot is nice and elevated before I go.”

You heart flips and you can feel your cunt throb hearing his offer. You momentarily consider letting Chris have another taste of you, but instead you stick to your resolve. “You can head out now. This isn’t going to work out the way you think it will.”

You feel Chris’ grip on your hips soften and wait for his response. You can clearly envision him connecting the dots in his head of why you had a change of heart.

“Don’t let one asshole ruin something good for you.” Chris’ voice is soft, soothing. Pleading. One of his hands leaves your hips and tries to lace itself on top of your hand gripping the sink. You snatch your hand back and move away from his addictive embrace so there is an appropriate amount of space between you two. Your voice is serious and even. You look at Chris head on. His previously captivating eyes are confused.

“That’s not the point. You are so lucky people look up to you. I’m not going to ruin that by entertaining this.”

“I think that’s a joint decision-” Chris starts, but you’re quick to shut him down.

“No. You don’t get a say in this. You need to go, and we are going to forget today even happened.”

“Doc, that’s just one agent-”

“Among dozens more who think what he’s thinking but keep their opinions to themselves, so they don’t speak out against the B.S.A.A.’s golden boy.”

Chris looks like he's carefully picking his next words but you speak out before he has the chance to form a compelling argument. “I refuse to drag you down to my level. End of discussion. Leave.”

Chris is standing a few paces away from you next to the sink, still looking like he wants to keep insisting on a potential partnership that you know is doomed to fail. Your shoulders slump and you try a different tactic.

“I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I changed my mind. I don’t want you here right now. Please respect that.”

Chris processes your words. He nods his head and heads to the door. “Alright.”

You see him put his hand on his keys on the entryway table, but he doesn’t pick them up. His wanting eyes dart over to you one more time while you refuse to meet his gaze.

“I’ll check in on you next week. Do you need me to get your car picked up?”

Your car is still broken down in the parking lot of the bar from the night before. You sigh in frustration. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll handle it. Drive safe.”

You can’t look at the front door. You’re not too sure if it would happen, but you don’t want to risk your resolve crumbling if you get a glimpse of Chris’ face. His infuriatingly kind, tempting face.

After a long pause, you finally hear Chris pick up his keys in the entryway and the front door open. “Keep that foot elevated, will ya Doc?”

“Will do.”

Another long pause, and you hear the front door mercifully close. A moment after, an engine starting up, and a large vehicle driving away.

In the silence of your kitchen, solitary living suddenly feels suffocating. Your mind is still racing. Even after being pushed away minutes after eating you out, Chris still wants to do things for you and it makes your heart ache. As strong as your resolve is right now, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to hold out and it terrifies you.

You need distance. Not just emotionally. Physical distance. You know the solution immediately.

In a matter of minutes, you dig out the offer letter from the trash and call the number on the header. When someone finally answers, you’re cordial. Calm.

“Hello, this is Dr. Wesker. I’m calling to learn more about your transfer offer.”

In the span of an hour, your escape plan is set. Europe HQ has booked you on a red eye flight to Germany for later that evening, a work visa is expedited, your new apartment keys are waiting for you across the globe, and you're throwing everything you can't replace in Germany into a suitcase without much throught for organization.

They were surprised to hear you wanted to transfer so quickly, but they were quick to accommodate your reasonable requests. And when they asked if Captain Redfield would still be checking in with you, they were more than understanding about you wanting a local agent to look after you.

Chris Redfield always tries to save everyone.

It’s your turn to make sure you save him from yourself.

_______________________________

Thanks for reading!

#chris redfield x reader smut #chris redfield x reader #resident evil fanfiction #reader is the wife of (dead) albert wesker #reader is a former umbrella scientist #chris redfield #albert wesker #the Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son #angst #no use of y/n #domestic fluff #frenemies to lovers #no beta we die like men

[thebadboyfanclub]

Welcome To Our Family (Daemon x Reader)

Hey everyone, so as I mentioned before I wanted to write a throuple thing with Rhaenyra and Daemon although even on this request there was some drama involved but it was interesting to write nonetheless. Also I don’t know why but this song inspired me the most especially the part “where you go I go, what you see I see” that was the vibe I was trying to pass for our reader with daemon

Most would say that the war in the stepstones had no place for love to blossom, the reeking stench of death had overtaken and most men had no life in their eyes, the majority prayed in gratitude that they were alive while others cursed the gods for keeping them on this forsaken realm when their friend of even their kin had been killed.

That did not even grace Daemon, who was lucky enough to spend every night in the arms of his beloved (y/n), the sister of one of his soldiers that had been wounded, (y/n) had marched in and demanded that her brother will come home.

“I will be damned if I allow you to give more than an arm for this, you are coming with me”

Her brother had obeyed her, she was as fragile as a rose but her thorns stung more than anything, right then and then Daemon had become a mere slave to his emotions, something that had never occurred before.

“I wish I could stay in your arms forever”

“That would be a dream, my love, however, we are counting the days until you depart, your wife probably awaits you”

Daemon was deeply offended by the jab his lover had thrown at him, slowly he rose up and away from her arm reach to look her straight in the eyes, the fireplace burned bright and the light shined against her glistening skin.

“You are questioning my feelings for you”

“I am questioning how strong they are, you are a prince, a husband, your life seems to hold no room for me”

“Is that how you think of this? That I just wanted to bed you?”

“Do you truly wish for me to answer that?”

Silence took over them while the only sound came from the crackles of the fire, Daemon was aware of how badly this could look, she was a commoner, a mere lady, and the realm would never accept her even if Daemon had not wed another.

“You and our daughter mean everything to me”

“But nothing to the king, he will ask for my head once he finds out I am carrying your child”

“I would never put your lives at risk”

“How do you plan on keeping us safe my love?”

“Do not worry about that, I will take care of everything”

(Y/n)s belly was starting to show, it wouldn’t take long for the king and his little whisperers to demand answers, the easy route was to declare his kin a bastard but Daemon was flying on cloud nine when (y/n) announced that she was with child, no he must do right by her.

He flew with her to Pentos, far away from Viserys and people that cared most about titles and crowns than love and compassion.

“Twins, my prince, two sons, praise the mother”

“What about (y/n)”

“The lady is a warrior, she is tired but healthy”

Daemon did not speak another word to the maester, he simply passed by him and into the room to find his beloved laying in bed, a faint smile on her face as she held one of her children while the other was being held by a midwife.

“You owe me 3 dragon coins”

“It is a bet I will happily pay, how are you feeling?”

“Sore and gross but happy, why don’t you hold him?”

“I-“

“Come on love it is merely a babe, like… so”

Slowly (y/n) passed one of her sons to her lover, instructing him to hold it carefully but securely, then she reached for the midwife so she can have her other son in her arms, both of the babes were quiet in their parent's arms.

“What should we name them?”

“I was thinking of Orryn, and mayhaps… Baelon?”

“Baelon and Orryn, the two princes”

Daemon and (y/n) had grown inseparable much to his brother's dislike Daemon had scoffed at his previous marriage and took his place next to his most endearing (y/n) that had blessed him with not just two children, but with passion, and comfort, she created a home for him, without her there was no warmth, no color.

Viserys was only finding out the milestones his brother was achieving with his mistress via ravens that Daemon dared to send, the birth of his sons had scratched a wound in Viserys that was not quite healed yet, so naturally when Rhea had passed due to fever, Daemon had even dared to invite Viserys to his wedding that took place in Pentos.

(Y/n) had just given birth to another set of siblings, Alyssa and Arren, two silver-haired princesses that slept peacefully through the night and would only stay quiet if (y/n) or Daemon held them, (y/n)s parents and brother had traveled to Pentos to finally meet the children and also attend the wedding.

“You look dashing sweetling, I see the prince has taken good care of you”

“How could I not? What is more important than the happiness of my lady wife?”

“We must admit we had conflicting thoughts over you my prince, I am happy that you proved us wrong”

“I do not hold it against you, she is your daughter you want what is best for her, also you were not the only one, (y/n) was also very skeptical over my intentions”

“I had every reason to do so”

“I have made peace with the fact that you will never admit you were wrong my love, you do not have to find excuses for it”

Daemon and (y/n) were wed in Valyrian traditions, something that infuriated Viserys, how dare he wed a commoner with the sacred paths of old Valyria, it was distasteful and utterly disrespectful, Viserys had only sent a one-sentence raven scroll back

“You disgust me, never come back”

Daemon had only rolled his eyes at it and threw it in the fire, he couldn’t care less about Kings Landing, they could eat each other for all he cared, (y/n) and their children were all that mattered ever since he met with the beautiful hues of hers, he treasured everything about her and worshipped the ground she walked on, he would always hold her close and shower her with gifts.

“We received a raven, I have taken the liberty to open it”

“What is it?”

“Laenor Velaryon has passed, and your niece is requesting our presence, well yours to be specific, she said “I need you, uncle”

“You are jealous, I have never seen you get jealous”

“Is this the one you told me about, that “spur of the moment” girl?”

“Indeed, we do not have to go, besides, my brother banished me”

“No, it is the first time our presence is requested”

“My dear, you are with child and the flight is long”

“I will be fine, I know it”

Daemon was certain he could not sway her, once something was on her mind there was nothing that could turn it around, he was also aware that the reason she was so adamant was a side of hers that felt threatened, there was a ghost of his past that was requesting attention and (y/n) was not willing to walk away from this without putting up a fair fight.

At a day (y/n) and her 8 children stood next to her and her husband all dressed in black, everyone rubbed their eyes at the sight of such numerous children, (y/n) always knew she was meant to be a mother and that fact that she had Daemon as her husband made it so much easier.

Until it didn’t, they were summoned by the king after the ceremony, (y/n) felt her stomach drop as soon as she walked in the room, instinctively her one hand went over her growing belly, yet she mastered the strength to place a smile and curtsy before the king.

“What is the meaning of this brother?”

“I was hoping we could agree to some sort”

“Over what?”

“I wish for you to come back, I… will legitimize your children and wife as she has proven worthy, bringing forward 8 children with another on the way is no easy task”

“The gods have been generous to us that is correct, we are grateful for this offer but forgive me to ask, since you mentioned an agreement it seems you want something in return”

“Correct, there is no smooth way to say this but as a parent, I hope you understand that I would do anything to protect my daughter”

“No”

“Daemon”

“If you are asking us to wed Rhaenyra then you have lost your mind, I will not involve my wife and children in your scandals”

“Pardon my husband, I think you can understand the reason behind his outburst”

Daemon was left confused over (y/n)s composure that attempted to cover for his utter refusal to hide his brother's plans, he turned to observe his wife, she was calm, and her hand went to find his as their fingers intertwined (y/n) gave him a slight squeeze of comfort.

“The legitimacy of our children and our marriage is something that we are interested in, however, you can see why we might have some objections over accepting Rhaenyra in our marriage”

“You are trying to negotiate?”

“Yes”

“What else would you like to accept, please speak freely”

“I want my children to be given dragon eggs as well as meet any unclaimed dragons, they are Targaryens, they should have the pick of their dragons as well”

“Done”

“I shall also be considered Rhaenyras wife, if we were to wed I shall have the same rights as my husband”

“You are suggesting the realm accept you as the future queen's consort?”

“As you mentioned I brought forward 8 children and another on the way, the crown shall accept them as future princes and princesses, if not then there is nothing for us here”

Daemon chose to observe his lady wife than speak up, she took initiative and strived for the best option, something he admired in her but he had never really witnessed how far she was willing to go to secure the future of her family, now she was sacrificing a spot in their marriage for a seat at the table, Viserys had been outsmarted by what he used to frown upon.

“Very well, we accept your conditions”

“Well then… welcome to our family Princess Rhaenyra”

-

(Y/n) and Daemon wed Rhaenyra as they had once done while their children and the rest of their family watched, Rhaenyra had underestimated the lady, (y/n) and might not be as assertive or rebellious as Daemon but her wits and calculated movements showed a woman that walked with her head held high and every step was thought after.

The days turned to seasons and then years, everyone was holding their breaths as they took a front-row seat to one of the most important marriages and alliances within the Targaryen Dynasty.

(Y/n) was held in the best light by the small folk, “the realms mother”, and “the Alyssane reborn” as her fertility kept thriving, blessing Daemon with another set of twins soon after Rhaenyra was wed, the two beautiful baby girls were named Megaera and Valera, the first of their family to receive dragon eggs on their cradles a gift by Rhaenyra who picked them herself then came Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya, overall (y/n) had the castle of Dragonstone filled with children, 13 to be precise.

Rhaenyra was painfully aware of how those babies came to fruition, Daemon's thirst for his wife was evident and he did not even consider giving Rhaenyra the courtesy of hiding, Rhaenyra had lost count of the times she had walked in on (y/n), and Daemon lusting after one another at all hours of the day and any room that was close to them, she sometimes wondered if the legends of Rhaenys being the favorite wife of Aegon made Visenya go through what Rhaenyra was also experiencing, is that mayhaps the reason behind Rhaenyra identifying with the warrior queen?

As (y/n) and Daemon stood by Rhaenyra at court, defending her and consulting her on important matters, painting the picture of a happy marriage with two spouses that supported her revolutionary claim, the realm expected Rhaenyra to bare a child as well, (y/n) was producing heirs one after the other, Rhaenyras womb laid empty since Daemon did not spend not even one night in her chambers.

It was the first time in years that the three of them had stepped foot in kings landing, Vaemond had called the court to usurp Lucerys from his claim at the driftwood throne, naturally, all 13 of their children were present along with the three boys from Rhaenyras previous marriage, (y/n) insisted that it would show how United they are and having that strong of a number on their side would scare off any other accusations.

A solid plan, until Ser Vaemond decided to protest against the king affirming young Lucerys as the successor for the driftwood throne.

“You run your house as you see fit, but I would rather die than let that boy take over my family’s name, parading around because you are too blind to see the truth”

“You dare question the decision of a king?”

“Look at them, all thirteen of them hold the characteristics of old Valyrian, true born heirs that I would happily accept as mine even though they came from a womb of a commoner, and you ask me to accept these three boys as Velaryons? It is blasphemy”

“You are certainly bold Ser Vaemond, you have the nerve to call me a commoner when I hold the future queen and the brother of the king as my spouses, my children are not thirteen, but sixteen, and all of them hold their names with pride, it saddens my heart to see that the thirst for recognition has turned you to this low of antics”

“Her children are BASTARDS! and she. Is. A. Whore”

“Pity, you had such great potential”

As (y/n) finished her sentence Daemon had taken the liberty to end Ser Vaemonds life, a clean cut through his head right above his tongue with the great sword dark sister, causing most people to gasp while (y/n) smirked and watched the body fall on the well-polished floor.

“No one disrespects our family”

“Disarm him!”

“No need, my love”

Daemon stretched his hand to his beloved (y/n) who only turned to pinch Lucerys cheek before she took her husband's hand to walk away, only to halt and turn around again, looking back to the rest of her family members.

“Rhaenyra”

Rhaenyra was grateful for (y/n)s graciousness, there was nothing that she could hold against her, she was loving and caring to her three boys, she would listen to Rhaenyra about any concerns for hours and even now she defended and included her in front of everyone.

She should be satisfied with such, still a thorn stuck in her heart and pride making Rhaenyra feel second best when it came to Daemon's heart, it has always been (y/n), (y/n) carried his offspring’s, he gave up everything for her, took her away and gave her a life full of gifts and love, the finest of any kind was reserved for (y/n).

“Pardon my intrusion, the princess is requesting Prince Daemon in her chamber”

“It is late, can it not wait?”

“Sweetling, the poor girl cannot know, go to her, I will be waiting for you”

“Fine, take your nightgown off for me, I want us to get straight to it when I get back”

Daemon whispered deviously before he planted a passionate kiss on the lips he most adored, reluctantly pulled away with an audible gruff and followed the servant girl silently, wondering what was so important that he had to leave his precious bed and his lustful wife right in the heat of the moment.

Rhaenyra paced back and forth with impatience written all over her demeanor and face, Daemon always had an influence over her, making her feel like a little girl again, though this was a different type of anxiety, once Daemon entered the room and the servant gave them their privacy Rhaenyra took a deep inhale through the nose to ease her nerves.

“I hoped to confront you over our marriage”

“What of it?”

“Do you truly think everything is fine or are you just blind?”

“I and my wife have honored our vows”

“That is the problem, you and your wife, it has never been just your vows”

“When you wed us you were to understand your place when it came to me and (y/n), I never used her as a surprise, you called for our aid and we generously offered it”

He was right, Rhaenyra had never been blindsided by them, (y/n) was a staple of their marriage, (y/n)s strive for the legitimacy of her children was the only reason Daemon allowed their wedding to happen, (y/n) had drank for Rhaenyras cup just as daemon had, binding their hands together and swore loyalty and devotion to their future queen.

As a woman Rhaenyra felt cast aside, this marriage was an insult to her pride, and having to bare through a birth of a child one after the other with a smile on her face was a twist of a knife in her wound, while her womb lay empty.

“You refuse to spend time with me, alone, you only show up with your children-“

“Our children, (y/n) and I call your sons our sons”

“At court yes”

“Are you questioning our actions? I did not have you to be as dim-witted as you seem right now, (y/n) called Lucerys her trueborn son in front of everyone, I took a man’s head for insulting you and our house and yet you stand before me and claim it is not enough for your liking?”

“I stand here to remind you that we have yet to produce a child, you can kill as many men as you wish, and (y/n) can scream it at the top of her lungs but that does not change that everyone sees her parading her belly and call her the realms mother while my womb rottenness under this wedlock”

“Rotten? Alright then, let us entertain this and say you bare my child, a silver-haired beauty that the realm will welcome, has it crossed that brilliant mind of yours that this will be more of a scandal for your three boys?”

“My sons are Targaryens”

“No doubt about it, but certainly they do not look like the part, in comparison to their brothers and sisters they look more like (y/n) than you”

“You are not refusing to lay with me to hush the rumors, you simply do not have the urge for it, I remember a time that you did, mayhaps it was the image of a gullible girl that kept you going”

“Listen and listen well, wife, (y/n) is my eternal love, the woman that took me in her arms and showed me life, you are my blood, I protected you, I defended you, I offered you sanctuary just so you can once again have something to complain about, well that is it, if you dare to summon me again for such idiotic matters I will grab my brother by the neck and force him to annul the marriage do you understand?”

Daemon was furious, as he spoke he started taking steps towards her, to the point that her back found the wall and Daemon was inches away from her face, hissing out the threat of annulment like a snake that released poison to its prey.

Rhaenyra had never experienced such hostility from Daemon, to say she was shocked was an understatement as her eyes frantically tried to find focus on his, daemons eyes were filled with fury, Rhaenyra had crossed the line in his mind, (y/n) had been kind and honorable to the princess, doing her duty like a proper lady wife and Rhaenyra scoffed at her, at his (y/n).

“Alright”

“Wonderful, now you must excuse me, I have some urgent matters that need my attention”

Requests are open!

#daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x oc #hotd daemon #daemon au #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd #hotd fic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd season 1 #Spotify

[mask131]

Some people are very confused about why, in the myth of the Judgement of Paris, the three goddesses who fall for the Apple of Discord trick are Aphrodite, Hera and Athena. They usually understand why Aphrodite and Hera would fall for the trick of "the most beautiful" - one is the goddess of love, sexuality, romance and beauty ; the other is the queen of the goddesses. But when it comes to Athena, they tend to have a hard time seeing the goddess of wisdom, war, peace, intelligence and virginity get enroled into a "I'm more beautiful than you" petty feud.

... Except it is very much in line with her character, and yes, these three deities are in classical mythology the most vain of the goddesses.

Now, I will here use both Greek and Roman example mixed together because I do not have time to do a thorough split and explanation for everything - so rather let us take an overview of the goddesses' legends as a whole, throughout the centuries.

Aphrodite is vain, this is something that has been established regularly. She is a being of seduction and love, she is the most beautiful of the goddesses since birth and if it wasn't enough she had her husband create a magical belt for her that makes her attractive to anyone who sees her (a husband she cheated on with one of the worst gods of Greek mythology just because said husband was ugly and the other god was hot. Hated but hot.)

One version of Echo's legend has Pan's unrequired love for her caused by Aphrodite as a punishment for not giving her the "most beautiful" award (and turned the other contestant who won into a shark). Aphrodite persecuted Psyche because she was said to be more beautiful than her. Myrrha was cursed by Aphrodite to fall in love with her father because her mother claimed she was more beautiful than the goddess. And there's a lot of other tales like that - so it is well established that not only is Aphrodite the most beautiful goddess, she makes all of her efforts to stay that way and will be VERY angry if anyone refuses her this title (sounds a bit insecure if you ask me but what do I know?)

If we go to Hera, we have again a certain case of pride and a status to be held. Hera is renowned for her beautiful eyes (the famous "cow-eyes" which no, are not an insult, but where an Ancient Greek compliment, because cow-eyes were deemed to be beautiful), and she is the queen of the gods, Zeus' eternal queen, THE first goddess among them all. That's a certain status to hold - and since she is known to have a bad temper, this comes of as a form of vanity and jealousy. The fact Herakles was named Herakles, "the glory of Hera", was precisely in an attempt to appease the goddess' wrath by appealing to her with flattery (turns out it didn't work). Remember: when Zeus had children of his own, without female help, such as Athena (or rather when it looked like he produced Athena on his own), Hera got pissed off because she saw this as a personal offense and tried to have a child of her own without Zeus just to prove him she could do it too (and the result was always disastrous, ranging from Hephaistos to FRIGGIN TYPHON).

This also ties into the whole idea of Hera persecuting Zeus' lovers and "bastards" out of jealousy. Note that she does not persecute ALL of Zeus' lovers, nor does she persecutes all of his extra-marital children... She always picks up those that Zeus seems to favor. That was why it all started with Herakles: Zeus was boasting about how he was going to shower his son with great gifts and a glorious destiny and all that, and Hera wouldn't have that. But she did not persecute Herakles' mother in any way... Just the son that Zeus clearly favoritized. And it becomes VERY obvious Hera's jealousy is not just related to a case of "cheating" in the case of Leto. Hera persecuted Leto for bearing Zeus' children and being deemed more beautiful than her by Zeus... When the myths are clear that Leto was Zeus companion (and possible wife) BEFORE Hera married Zeus. Before this whole story became another one of Zeus' cheating cases, this was a tale of Hera, unmarried to Zeus yet, simply being jealous of Leto being deemed more beautiful than her.

So this was all quite well established... But what about Athena, then, you ask?

Athena is also vain. I am sorry to announce it to you, but all the goddesses of Ancient Greeks have a flaw in myths (not in religion though, in religion all the goddesses are perfect and benevolent, but in legends and texts they are human-like with flaws and vices), and Athena's personal vice is vanity. The whole Arachne myth has sometimes been interpreted as a manifestation of Athena's personal pettiness, as in she cannot stand that someone is better than her at weaving. (It is a bit complicated since as I said before the legend of Arachne is purely Roman not Greek but I also told you I was going to mix Roman and Greek today so you have been warned). Even outside of the legend of Arachne, there is the legend of the flute - how Athena invented the first flute, but then cast it away and cursed it because when she played it, she looked ugly and people mocked her. This is probably the most famous legend about her vanity. And as I posted a long time ago - while this version of Medusa's legend was mostly lost to time because we lack the text, and it was preserved in scholia, we know that by Classical Greece the legend of Athena turning Medusa into a monster was quite popular... but it was all about Medusa being more beautiful than Athena, hence her being turned into a monster.

There's also a legend of a Meropis turned into an owl for mocking Athena's eye-color...

Anyway! Conclusion, it makes sense in the wider scope of Greco-Roman mythology to have these three goddesses be the one to fall for Eris' scheme, because they are the three most vain Olympian goddesses. Now it would have been weird if the candidates would have been, I don't know... Demeter or Hestia. These goddesses are not renowned for any vanity. But Athena? Yeah, makes sense.

EDIT: @teamrocketsfatknockers made a quite important point in a reblog and so I will add a point to my article.

I will insist that all I present to you above is from an "in-universe" point of view and a literal reading of the story. We are here talking of "humanized characterization" for the goddesses, and from a purely narrative, fictional point of view. That was my angle of attack: Why would Athena be considered "vain" in-story when we typically associate an asexual virgin who hates romance and is more into war and high-intellects with someone not much into superficiality or appearances.

But as I repeatedly said before, each myth has at least three levels of interpretation and three meaning warped in one. A religious meaning (though the one in the Judgement of Paris is... unknown to me so far), a literal meaning (as in we have a story, with characters, and this is a fiction) and a metaphorical or philosophical meaning. So I need to highlight that the myth of the Judgement of Paris can be read in a philosophical way as such. Why are these three goddesses searching for the Golden Apple aimed at the "fairest of them all"? Because all three of them embody the most attractive and seductive concepts a Greek man can ever hope for ; they are all three the ideals of Ancient Greek mindset and society. As such Paris' choice and the goddess' quarrels isn't about just satisfying the petty vanity of superficial divas anymore - it becomes a deep debate about which ideal, which dream is the most desirable for a Greek hero, and by extension for a Greek man. Hera is royalty, supremacy, political power and domination ; Athena is peace and wisdom, heroism and cleverness ; Aphrodite is romance, love, beauty and sexuality. And this all reflects within their gifts to Paris - which are in fact extension of what the goddesses themselves embody and represent.

You could sum it up as: Do you want to be a king, a hero or a lover? What would reward you most in life, a crown, a sword or a wife? What allures to you more, power, glory or romance?

Again, that's the beauty of the Greeks myths - and of all myths in the world. They depict simultaneously the gods as the pettiest more vicious selfish and flawed persons you ever met, basically warped caricatures of humanity... and as deep, profound, essential principles of human nature and human society, whose every interaction with mortals causes philosophical debates, ideological questioning and existential crisis.

#greek mythology #greek goddesses #greek goddess #athena #aphrodite #hera #judgement of paris #greek gods

[flowersandbigteeth]

I’m obsessed with Levi, absolutely smitten. Thank you for sharing him with us.

If you feel up to it could we get a snippet of someone maybe a rival vampire trying to plant doubts in Levi about the reader. Maybe accusing them of cheating on him and using him, only for Levi to laugh in their face because he knows how devoted and loyal they are to each other.

Just like the opposite of the miscommunication trope. Please and thank you🥺👉👈

I'm so happy you like Levi ^_^ This is just a little thing, but I thought it turned out cute and it's nice to do something lighter after the last one omg :D

Vampire (Levi) x female mom reader

Word Count: 1k

W: sfw vampire fluff

“Ugh,” Levi’s cousin Ivan and leader of his clan in Russia grimaced looking down at Meryl over his glass of blood, “don’t you have a nanny?” 

Levi nudged him away from the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib he’d put in his office so she could be nearby. He’d wanted to give you a spa day and he knew you weren’t yet comfortable with the nanny, so he happily offered to keep his favorite cinnamon roll with him.

He also wanted you out of the house when his cousin arrived. He didn’t like males seeing you and he knew how frivolous vampire’s could be. Their lives were long and got boring, rare jewels intrigued them, if only for a time. He’d sent you surrounded by a handful of Amazonian vampire bodyguards, so he felt confident no one would bother you. 

“(Y/N) and I have decided to keep her caretakers to a minimum,” he said, “she’s already been exposed to so many different germs and people, there’s no reason to add anymore.” 

Ivan snorted. 

“So she’s got you babysitting her brat?! Cousin, are you a fool?” 

Of course in his time, the idea of a vampire Clan lord carrying around an infant was preposterous, let alone one that was not his son, specifically. Many vampire mothers immediately gave their children to wet nurses so they wouldn’t look weak carrying a drooling baby around. 

Levi growled at his cousin, prompting him to lower his voice so as not to wake the baby. 

Ivan hissed lightly back, his eyes flashing. Vampire lords didn’t like being told what to do. 

“Who is this trollop anyway?” he snapped, though a bit quieter, “I’ve never seen you so wrapped around anyone’s finger.” 

Levi looked a little wistful. 

“Just an angel I came across in a fish store,” he murmured, his eyes resting fondly on Meryl. 

Ivan raised an eyebrow. 

“Fish…store…? And you’ve taken in her bastard? You’re babysitting it? Levi, I know losing Karen must have been hard but-”

Levi’s face hardened and his voice boomed. 

“Don’t say her name in my presence!” he snarled. 

Meryl cooed that she was waking up and started to whimper realizing she was alone. Levi looked distraught and hurried over to her, picking her up and bouncing her in his arm. 

“I’m sorry baby bat, did I wake you?” he cooed, and she gave him a gummy smile, doing her “daddy is picking me up” dance in his hand. 

Something about the happiness on Levi’s face when he looked at Meryl and how innocently she completely trusted him incensed Ivan. 

“This is absurd Levi. No one can be this happy! How do you know she doesn’t have some lover on the side and she’s just using you? Tugging a vampire lord on a leash?! She’s probably making another one of those things right now! Aren’t you concerned with how this makes the family look?!” 

Levi tipped Meryl’s head to his chest so she couldn’t see before he bared his fangs, transforming his face into a more animal version of itself as a warning. 

“Now you sound absurd, cousin,” he ground out, more offended that he’d say such a thing in front of his darling baby than taking it seriously, “(Y/N) is a devoted mother and wife. I won't listen to you slandering her in front of our child.”

Ivan snorted and crossed his leg with annoyance, spinning his blood around. 

“Goddess, modern romance is so disgusting,” he retorted, turning his face away from the tooth achingly sweet sight of Levi tossing Meryl in the air to make her giggle, “If it were me, I’d never see the thing.” 

“That’s why you’re a cold, lonely bastard,” Levi chuckled, “and I have a warm, beautiful family.” 

Ivan rolled his eyes. 

“Until she backstabs you like your mother,” he snapped. 

Levi growled more loudly. 

“I told you not to mention her,” he snapped, flipping Meryl over his shoulder by one foot so she wouldn’t see his anger and making her laugh out loud. 

“Ugggggh,” Ivan let out the longest groan ever at her pure joy as Levi pulled her back to his chest and found her one of the toys strewn on his desk to play with. 

“I’m back my loves!” you sighed as you walked into Levi’s office and breezed past the vampire sitting in one of Levi’s overstuffed chairs. You tossed your purse lazily on his desk, then tipped up on your toes and gave Levi a kiss, then smooched Meryl. 

“Feel my face,” you beamed, taking his hand and putting it on your freshly worked over skin, “they did some kind of laser thing to it! It’s super soft!” 

He grinned down at you, taking the opportunity to circle your cheek with his fingers. Maybe it was softer than normal, it always felt soft to him, but he was happy you wanted him to touch you. You'd been seeking out his touch more and more, each time delighting him more than the last.

A bit of a tug in the back of your mind reminded you the other vampire was still there and you glanced over your shoulder at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” you asked, looking him over. He looked a bit like Levi, as well, but with wheat blonde hair cropped short and bright blue eyes. 

“Uh…this is my cousin, Ivan,” Levi said with as little enthusiasm as possible, “he’s in town for the wedding.”

He was eager to see you since you’d been gone all morning, but he still didn’t like males looking at you, disappointed your spa treatment ended early. For Ivan’s part his mouth dropped and his eyes grew big. He hopped up from the chair and crossed the room, looming over you. 

He took your hand and gave it a kiss, smiling down at you with the eyes of a predator behind baby blue irises almost flashing green with envy. 

“Levi told me many things about you and I thought he was exaggerating, but he wasn’t lying when he said you are truly lovely. Now I think I understand his fascination. I look forward to seeing more of you, my dear,” Ivan purred, “Levi loves to throw parties so I’m sure there will be plenty of occasions for us to get more acquainted.”

You blinked up at him and extracted your hand from his. 

“Er...good to meet you,” you said, wondering if it was a generational gap thing that made him sound so weird to you. Many of Levi's vampires had odd dialects hinting to their time of origin.

Levi bared his teeth and handed Meryl to you, practically shoving his cousin from the room. 

“I’ll see you later, cousin!” he growled, slamming the door behind him.

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #sfw monster fluff #monster oc #vampire x reader #angst #yandere fluff #male yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #vampire boyfriend #vampire #monster x reader

[ystrike1]

For a Fairytale Ending - By Joowinter (7/10)

I can only recommend this one for otome isekai fans. It won't appeal to anyone else. Its a very slow wish fulfillment fantasy with a "simpleminded" protagonist and enough cliches to fill a book. It's cute, and horrible, and the best characters are the villains. If you like the creepy/cute vibe it's passable.

Alice Estevan is a reincarnated....nope! She has The Eyes of Wisdom! She remembers her previous lives, and she can kinda see the future. The problem is her ability is too overpowered, and it takes a massive toll on her health. Alice Estevan thinks she's a twentysomething BL fan trapped inside a novel, but her brain just isn't big enough to handle her godly blessing.

She's secretly an Imperial Princess.

Her mother is a nut tho. Karina is a former maid who managed to marry a Duke after his wife cheated on him. Alice Estevan isn't even his daughter. Karina just brought her in from a "previous relationship".

Karina is absolutely evil and a child abuser to boot. The Duke married her after his wife's betrayal because he is a thousand times worse. They are a fitting "couple" who think of power and nothing else.

Alice Estevan has to navigate around completely crazy adults to survive.

Her doctor, Evan, is her solace. Evan eventually introduces her to his younger brother, Micheal. Both brothers have divine powers, and they help Alice Estevan heal. Without them she would have become a very bitter and illness ridden child.

Edwin actually is the Duke's son. The previous Duchess did not cheat. He was born with black hair because Karina used expensive dark magic power to change his appearance. The Duchess also died during childbirth, because Karina was her handmaiden at the time. She was being fed multiple poisons during her pregnancy.

Edwin is locked away in a tower, and Karina abuses him with a whip.

Why is he there?

Why would the cruel Duke keep some unknown bastard from his dead wife?? Plus some unknown bastard from his second wife???

Karina thinks she's smart, and a true villainess. However, she's just a pawn.

Karina tries to poison Alice, her own daughter, because she's a sick freak.

Micheal gets hurt instead, so Alice decides to expose the black hair trick.

Karina is banished.

Edwin is released from his prison tower thanks to Alice, who he is now obsessed with.

The thing is...Alice isn't a genius.

How did this work out so well?

Is Alice really heading towards a happy ending, or is it all a trap?

First things first we should establish that Edwin isn't a nice guy. He tries to kill Michael multiple times....by rotting him from the inside out with dark magic. Micheal doesn't notice though. Michael has alot of Divine Power. In another future Edwin and Michael would have been toxic lovers, but now of course Edwin loves his bastard non-blood sister.

There's a time skip and reality starts to crack for Alice Garnet, who retook her maiden name after her mother was banished. She starts to see multiple "plots". She's supposed to be in a BL book, but nothing of the sort has happened. Reality feels organically real now that she's an adult. She starts seeing glimpses of the future that have nothing to do with the "plot" she thought she knew.

She experiences terrifying visions about Edwin, her closest friend. He's no longer crazy in love with Micheal. He never was, and he's so gentle on the surface. She doesn't understand why she keeps seeing the castle covered in blood.

Edwin is barely holding it together.

He's pretending to be sane so Alice will play with him.

The Duke reveals himself. He is a formidable enemy. Karina was tasked with watching over her because....you guessed it! Alice is secretly the Emperors daughter! What a shocking twist! She's a princess how original! Every member of the Imperial Family has special holy powers....that can kill them or drive them insane. The Duke has been raising Alice as a breeding horse, so he can take over the country. It's already in motion. He's currently controlling the Emperor with magic drugs.

Edwin won't move to kill his father as long as Alice is happily playing with him, but what will happen when she finds out the truth?

Her entire life has been a lie, and her powers are too much for her body. The Eyes of Wisdom made her extremely ill. She thought she was inside a book because she saw many visions while she slept. Her body is weak and frail. She's only happy because she has a few trusted friends. She doesn't even really want to be a Princess, but is she willing to use Edwin to get more freedom?

Not really.

She doesn't want to take advantage of her friends.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome #otome isekai #isekai

[2rats1gogh]

Stop comparing Alicent to Cersei. Compare Rhaenyra to Cersei instead.

Let’s go over some similarities they share, shall we.

1. Both Cersei and Rhaenyra had several children with their lover (Jaime and Harwin) and pretended like those children were legitimate even if it was pretty damn obvious in Rhaenyra’s case that they weren’t, and somewhat suspicious in Cersei’s. Alicent didn’t love her husband either, yet her children were all legitimate and fathered by her husband.

2. Both Cersei and Rhaenyra were pretty spoiled children of rich parents that made them believe that their actions will have no consequences, so they could get away with pretty much anything since their daddy has their back. Alicent was never spoiled and never really did anything that she would regret. She always did her duty as wife, mother and queen.

3. Both Cersei and Rhaenyra always pretended like their children are perfect and could do no wrong. I’m cheating a little with this one, tbh, since Cersei kinda knew that Joffrey was fucked up but still, she never really did anything to stop him/fix him. The only time she slapped him was because he asked her “if Robert fucked other women when he grew tired of her.” She never really punished him for everything else he did and always took his side. Alicent always calls out Aegon for his behavior and don’t forget the “you are no son of mine”. Cersei would’ve never said such a thing to any of her children, not even Joffrey. Neither Rhaenyra or Cersei would comfort the rape victim of their child.

4. This one is kinda hard to explain but; both Rhaenyra and Cersei are responsible for the way their children turned out to be. Cersei was responsible for Joffrey being the way he was, and Rhaenyra was responsible for Lucerys’ behavior (i will never shut up about him cutting Aemond’s eye off). But you cannot fucking blame Alicent for Aegon being a rapist (i haven’t read the books but as far as i’m aware, that never even happened in the books, it’s just a show thing to demonize the Greens. Correct me if i’m wrong).

5. Even tho both were women, neither Cersei or Rhaenyra ever were feminists. They only cared for themselves and their own well being, as well as their children’s. Alicent has always been an altruist and although she doesn’t do much to overthrow patriarchy either, she doesn’t really have the power to do that. But again, at least she cared for others and the smallfolk, not just for herself.

6. Cersei kills or threatens anyone who dares speak to her or her children the wrong way, and Rhaenyra isn’t much different, being afraid that the truth about her bastards might come out. Alicent was not an usurper, she never tried to silence others for the truth, since she has nothing to hide.

this post is kinda chaotic, i wrote this list at like 1 am and was tired af so maybe some things aren’t really understandable so sorry about that lmao

#team black stans dni #anti team black #anti team black stans #anti rhaenyra targaryen #cersei lannister #pro team green #anti rhaenyra #hotd #house of the dragon #asoiaf #pro alicent hightower #pro alicent #team green #game of thrones

[aelenavelaryon]

𝓡𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷 𝔁 𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓭

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷 𝓲

Trigger warnings: childbirth, death, miscarriage, I think there is more but I can’t think of it.

Princess Rhaelle Targaryen came into the world on a dark night. Being the eldest gave Rhaelle more responsibility than her little sister and she was glad to take the weight of the crown from her sister.

Maester Gaellis wrote "princess Rhaelle took the role of a mother not only for her younger sister Rhaenyra but for her half siblings, prince Aegon, Aemond, Daeron and princess Helaena. The young princess loved her siblings all the same. Many believe it was the reason why she ascended to the Iron Throne without a fight or doubt" princess Rhaelle was what a queen should be and a great queen she was.

Queen Aemma had many still borns, miscarriages and babes who didn't make it pass the cradle. Only princess Rhaelle and princess Rhaenyra made it to adulthood. Princess Rhaelle lost her mother when she was only ten and three, leaving behind Rhaelle and her new born sister Rhaenyra as the only survivor that day.

Rhaelle knew she would never be a son. No king wanted their first born child to be a girl. A son was always what it was preferred and although her father loved her she would never be the son he needed. The son he had always wanted and the son he killed her mother for. King Viserys made a choice. He decided to name his eldest child his new heir after Daemon had spoken ill of Rhaenyra's twin, prince Baelon.

A few months after, her father the king married Alicent Hightower. Alicent's father had been hand of the king for a few years now and was serving under King Viserys' reign. Alicent and Rhaelle had been friends since both were young and were once closed friends. Rhaelle once believed she loved Alicent. Perhaps a part of her did as the two were each others first kiss and they never went anywhere without each other but after Alicent married her father nothing was ever the same and sadly it would never be the same.

Princess Rhaelle was set to marry soon as well. Laenor, her dearest cousin was soon to be her beloved husband. Laenor was a man with different taste than most men. One of the many things Laenor and Rhaella shared were their similar taste in men. While she married him knowing that perhaps they could never have children together it was a risk she was willing to take. But, to her and Laenor's surprise, she fell pregnant after their first attempt with a little help from Laenor's lover of course it worked.

Just a year after they married they welcomed twin sons into the world. Prince Monterys and prince Aethan Velaryon. Both boys were the epitome of Targaryen and Velaryon men. The boys grew up along side their aunt slash sister Rhaenyra. A year after they were born, their uncle, Prince Aegon was born to their grandfather king Viserys and his wife Queen Alicent.

Alicent had done her duty, perfectly. Princess Rhaelle stayed in King's Landing after much convincing on Laena's part. There were many rumors about Princess Rhaelle, Lady Laena and Prince Daemon. Maester Gaellis wrote: "princess Rhaelle found comfort in her good sister, the lady Laena Velaryon. Many said she replaced her friendship with Alicent with lady Laena's friendship" Laena had married her uncle Daemon and just as they were rumors about Rhaelle and Laena they were rumors about Rhaelle and her uncle Daemon.

Princess Rhaelle welcomed a son into the world nearly two years after her first born sons. Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Many said he resemble princess Rhaenys with his dark brown locks and a few strips of white. Those strips of white were the only reason nobody could say they were bastards as princess Rhaenys had the same strips. Princess Rhaelle was always seen with Lady Laena who two years later after Jace gave birth to her twin daughters Baela and Rhaena. And just two moons after them Prince Lucerys was born to Princess Rhaelle and Laenor Velaryon.

Prince Lucerys was said to Princess Rhaelle's favorite son. Although she said she never had favorites the boy was soft, kind and gentle like his mother had once been. Despite Alicent's protests Princess Rhaelle spent a lot of time with her brothers and sister. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron who was born a few days before Lucerys. Alicent could say no more about her "grandsons" appearance since her youngest and last son had her traits and not those of a Targaryen.

Alicent's children grew up loving their half sisters. Some would even said the young children saw Princess Rhaelle as their mother as Prince Aegon had taken to call her mother, even in the presence of his own lady mother and father. Laenor and Princess Rhaelle tried for a daughter, when they thought it didn't work she tried with Daemon who was her lover much like Laena was as well. The princess fell pregnant but he did not know who the father was. A few months later two baby girls were born. Princess Visenya looked like a Targaryen through and through. She was Daemon's daughter. Princess Alyssa was a Velaryon through and through. She was Laenor's daughter. Laenor loved both girls all the same as did Daemon.

Minutes after giving birth. Lady Elinda Massey entered the room where the princess had given birth. Elinda had been with Rhaelle for as long as she could remember. She trusted her with her life, she was her most trusted and loyal lady in waiting. "I'm sorry, Princess" she said with a sad tone. "The Queen has requested that the child be brought to her. Immediately" she said while looking at the floor. Rhaelle's smile quickly disappeared. "Why?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

Daemon, who was there grabbed his sword and headed to the the throne room where he knew the queen was alongside the king. Laenor, Corlys, and Rhaenys walking behind him. The doors opened and Daemon walked in like a man on a mission. He walked straight to the Queen. The King's guard held him back and they were struggling. "You make a demand like that again and I swear I will have your head and your father’s too!" he threatened.

The king and his hand and the people there were confused. "What is the meaning of this?!" Viserys asked. "This.. tyrant of a woman has ordered for Rhaelle's child to be brought to her minutes after being born" Rhaenys reply. "Rhaelle is the future queen and has just given birth. What type of request is that?" Corlys asked. "A woman of house Velaryon will not be treated in such way" Laenor said. The king and the people looked at the queen. "You dare! Rhaelle has just given birth and your order her to handle her new born child to you?!" he yelled making Alicent flinch. "Leave! You will be dealt with after I visit my daughter" she nodded and left.

Daemon watched as Alicent and her father walked off. He had a plan. He would make sure Rhaelle never went through that again. Never. Laenor would make sure of that as well.

(Not Edited) part two coming soon!

#aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon #alicent hightower x reader #laenor velaryon #rhaenyra x laena #laena velaryon

[daenaera-t]

The Bastard Queen

ACT1:CHAPTER 1

WARNING:none at the moment summary: Another babe is born to the princess.

The sun was bright, currently hiding behind the white fluffy-looking clouds in the beautiful and bright blue sky that was evident above the kingdom of Kings Landing, the castle standing tall and proud as it had been over the years way before half the people in the kingdom living were even born at the moment.

The streets were crowded outside the wall of Red Keep as the markets were full of civilians trying to buy stuff for themselves and their families as children's laughter could be heard all around, the little people running around and bumping into the adults, ignoring their scolding that the adults were giving them as they continued to chase after one another and there pet animal they had.

Inside the old-looking castle, attendants and guards could be seen all around as the servants did their chores and the guards stood against the walls, postures straight while keeping an eye out for any trespassers that were to come and injure the royal family. The sounds of chatters could be heard all around the castle, people speaking about the princess and her new born son and the youngest child out of her four children that she had, now three of them being boys while one of them being a girl.

In one of the many rooms in Red Keep, three children could be seen inside as they played together while waiting for their mother to return, their biological father in the room with them. Ser Harwin Strong watched as his two sons and daughter played the game they had been playing for the past couple minutes, hoping his lover was alright. It was then that their attention went to the door as the princess and her husband walked inside. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen smiled when she made eye contact with Harwin, who stood up to his feet, smiling through the pain she was in she made her way to him.

Ser Laenor Velaryon trailed behind his wife, gently rocking the new born babe in his arms as the children grew excited at the sight of their mother. The only daughter of Rhaenyra , Daenaera Velaryon, was the first up to her feet as both her twin brother and little brother followed behind her.Jacaerys Velaryon, dropped the dragon toys he had been playing with down and was quick to follow behind his twin sister.And the second youngest, Lucerys Velaryon, quickly grabbed a hold of the skirt of his sister's dress so he wasn't too far behind, making sure to not tug too hard that it'll rip while they rushed to the spot where the egg they had picked for their new sibling. 

Daenaera grabs a hold of the lid of the object, lifting it up to reveal the hot dragon egg they had chosen.

"We chose an egg for the baby." Lucerys tells her.

Rhaenyra lets out a pained chuckle, sitting down on one of the sofas with the help of her lover. 

"That looks like the perfect one."

"I let Jace and Luke choose." Daenaera informs.

The sizzling sound could be heard as the smoke was rising from the pot just as Lucerys was slowly reaching a hand forward to touch the egg.

However, Daenaera and Jacaerys were quick to grab a hold of his hand before he could burn himself, to which he snapped it back and towards his chest before Daenaera placed the lid back on. 

Glancing to her mother, the girl moves around her brothers until she was seating herself beside her mother.

"Not everyday an egg leaves the Dragonpit, Princess." Harwin states. "I thought it best to escort the children."

"Laenor and I thank you, Commander." Rhaenyra replies.

Harwin nods, looking to his son. "Another boy, I heard."

"What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?" Laenor mumbles to the babe.

"Might I?" Harwin asks.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey." Rhaenyra tells her husband.

Looking up from the infant, Laenor replies with a curt nod as he gently places the new born child, a child they named Joffrey after Ser Laenor's very first lover, in Ser Harwin's arms. Rhaenyra watched with a tired smile before she felt a smaller hand be placed on hers, making her look beside her to see her only daughter staring at her in concern.

"Are you alright, Mother?" Daenaera questions in concern.

Rhaenyra smiles, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "I will be, my darling. For now, I am just glad to see you."

The older princess caresses her daughter's dark hair, both smiling at one another as Rhaenyra leans forward and presses a kiss to her daughter's forehead. It was when Lucerys questioned his father if he could hold Joffrey that had them looking over to see the second youngest reach up to his younger brother, but Harwin had been quick to use a hand to slightly push the boys hand away, not wanting to wake up the babe while Laenor moved the boys to the door, looking to the girl he thought of as his daughter, giving her a slight look.

Pressing a quick kiss to her mother's cheek, Daenaera walked past the two adults and out the door with her brothers as Ser Laenor closed the door behind them. Laenor led the three children to the Dragonpit where the two sons of the king and the queen were already at. Prince Aegon II Targaryen smiled at the sight of the Velaryon girl when they made eye contact, not noticing his younger brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen, moved his lips as he made a gagging  sound, while rolling his eyes at the sight of the loves truck gaze in his older brother's eyes.

The sounds of chains echoing throughout the dark Dragonpit could be heard, followed by the squeaky sounds of one of the many dragons inside the pit as two men walked along either side of a dragon, their grips tight on the chains. One of the trainers placed a hand on Jacaerys back, moving him forward a bit while the prince stared at his dragon, Vermax.

The sound of Aegon yawnig rather loudly could be heard, but no one seemed to pay any mind to that as Jacaerys took at least two more steps forward. He glanced over his shoulder at his sister, who nodded at him with a small smile before he looked back forward. Reaching up, Lucerys placed his smaller hand in his twin sister's, feeling her hold it back as he leaned into her. The men soon let go of the chains when they were told to, no one seeming to be scared that Vermax was now loose as the creature made its way towards the prince Jacaerys.

"Call Vermax to Heel, Prince Jacaerys." One of the trainers instruct.

"Dohaeris!" Jacaerys calls out in High Valyrian.

Vermax comes to a stop, standing tall as he and the prince stare at one another before the creature let out a slight roar, stepping forward and that had Jacaerys stepping back while commanding the dragon to halt in High Valryian, to which the dragon obeyed. Someone soon walked in with a goat tied to a rope, the sound of the animal catching the dragon's attention.

Vermax ignored Jacaerys as he moved towards the goat when it was tied up, two workers placing their sticks in front of the dragon to stop.

One of the trainers voices explained that they should learn to hold mastery over their dragon, just like Aegon had learned with his own dragon, and once they were fully bounded to their owner, they wouldn't take instructions from anyone else.

"Can I say it?" Jacaerys asks, receiving a nod as he looks at the others excitedly before stepping forward. "Dracarys, Vermax!"

The two workers moved out of the way as Vermax walks towards the goat, standing up a bit before it was blowing out fire, burning the animal in front of him alive. The others all watch and hear as a screech escapes the goat before Vermax came to a stop, stomping forward until he was leaning down and eating the now lifeless and burnt animal. Patting Jacaerys' shoulder, the trainers walked off with the others as the children ventured to the end of the dark part of the Dragonpit.

"Aemond, we have a surprise for you." Aegon informs his brother, making Daenaera look at him curiously.

Aemond furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"Something very special." Lucerys excitedly replies before he was running forward, the others following behind in a walking pace.

"You're the only one of us without a dragon." Aegon points out, getting a nod. "And we felt badly about it, so we found one for you."

Aemond raises a brow. "A dragon? How?"

Aegon shrugs. "The gods provide."

While he didn't show it, the young prince found himself being hopeful at the thought of them finding a dragon for him, even if it wasn't likely.

Looking to his left, he examined Daenaera's face to see if she hadn't known about this. Snorts echoed from the darkness within the Dragonpit, followed by Lucerys pants as he ran up the ramp, a rope in his hand.

Aemond's shoulders dropped, his hands dropping to his sides at the sight of a very chubby and pink-looking pig instead of a dragon. Daenaera rolls her eyes at the makeshift wings they had made out of hay and tied it to the animal.

"Behold-" Aegon begins.

"The Pink Dread!" All of them, other than Daenaera, exclaim before their laughter could be heard.

"Be sure to mount her carefully. First flight's always rough." Aegon states.

And with that, he let out a loud pig snort in his little brother's ear, causing Jacaerys and Lucerys to laugh even more before they did the same as well, walking off afterwards, their laughter echoing throughout the Dragonpit. Reaching over, Daenaera gently squeezes Aemond's hand, making him look at her before she walks off, ready to scold her brother's for following Aegon's lead and taunting Aemond, all while the said prince watches her leave.

#fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #fanfiction #oc #aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon aemond #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys i targaryen #rhaenyra targeryan #daemon targeryan #jace velaryon #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #original character #alicent hightower #Spotify

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Duke Sabrian, the Trueborn Bastard

The barred windows of the carriage let in only cold mountain air and the endless procession of crucifixes marking the road up to the Duke's castle. You idly wonder if he's picked out which ones he'll nail you and your friends to once you've told him that you've failed.

Though he styles himself the gallant exemplar of everything the noble warrior class could be, Duke Sabrian is in truth the embodiment of all the failings of his social order: brutish, bloody-minded, and blind to any plights beyond his own. More than a decade past Sabrian fought a war against his own sibling to seize control of their duchy and since then has ruled from an isolated mountain fortress fearing reprisals from the people he subjugates.

As long as the Duke rules things will continue to get worse, and it's only a matter of time before the party and those they care about get caught up in it.

Adventure Hooks:

Exhausted after delving their first dungeon the party are shaken down by a group of the duke's men, who are better armed and carry the threat of reprisal should the party draw steel on them. Perhaps it's better to give the toughs what they want and live to fight another day... say after finding out where the guards get drunk so they can trick/charm/beat the location of the stolen treasure out of them.

Countess Ledrick has a problem. Despite being one of the mercenaries who helped win Sabrian his throne she was never formally sworn in as one of the duke's vassals when she took over her lands and is widely regarded as little better than an upjumped brigand. Now a large shipment of tribute heading for the Duke's council has gone missing on the borders of her land, and it's only a matter of time before the blame comes to rest on her. She'll need all the help she can in recovering the lost treasure which just might be the party's ticket to a position in her court.

While out in the market a couple of the party members are approached by a woman in a hood doing her very best to try to seem inconspicuous. Through smiles and whispered pleas she begs them to help her hide from the guards, palming them a small handful of jewels in the attempt. If the party gives her aid she'll eventually introduce herself as Mina, keeping most of her story to herself but letting slip that she stole something precious from Sabrian and that she needs their help getting out of the duchy and into some neighbouring lands. It'd be an arduous journey, made even more arduous when in the next town the party discover posters and criers proclaiming that the duke's wife Minerva has been kidnapped, promising a great reward for her return and a terrible punishment for those who made off with her.

Background: While many born into the nobility feel confined by their station, Sabrian always knew he was made to rule. He was one of those people who excelled at the standards he was expected to meet, for whom the path of life is not only a straight line but part of a larger destiny that gave order to the world.

The problem was that Sabrian was the younger son, and his older sister chafed against noble life as much as he suited it. Sabrina was high minded, well read, and was possessed of several strange notions. The first being that those who own and govern the land owed something to those that lived upon it, the second being that her name was Solace, not Sabrina. The third was that she was not a woman, simply a person. The fourth and perhaps most outrageous was that she they would not be taking a husband, nor even a lover for the purposes of producing heirs and rather than just handing over their claim on the duchy to their well deserved brother like so often happened when the noble family tree refused to branch they would instead be creating some kind of made up of council made up of their vassals the elected mayors from the duchy's largest towns.

Sabrian wasn't having any of it, his sibling had clearly gone mad and was denying both of them (but mostly him) their birthright. After years of arguing, petitioning their mother on her death bed, and an outright threat of banishment from the now ascendant Duke Solace, Sabrian went out, raised himself an army, and went to war with his softhearted kin. The fighting was worse than anyone could have imagined, the people rose in Solace's defence and Sabrian had to resort to brutal tactics to put them down burning villages and farmland in the drought of summer and marching his followers over the ashes towards their next target.

Solace's head was delivered to him in a basket the same day he took the throne, and for the decade since Sabrian can't hold court without remembering the reproachful look in his sibling's dead eyes.

Further Adventures:

Knowing the common people hold no love for him, the duke governs from an ancestral bastion high in the mountains, a cold and lofty perch quite suitable for an unassailable tyrant who thinks himself above all. His remoteness and unwillingness to bother has paradoxically allowed his vassals the ability to govern their lands the way they see fit, which leads to a patchwork of graft, neglect, and personal ambition. In recent years Sabrian has sought to curve this independent streak by putting more and more resources behind his personal guard, who are now commanded by a former bountyhunter famed for her ruthlessness.

Increasing isolation gives the party a chance to rally together a resistance against the duke, but such a coalition might be built on shoddy foundations. A sizeable minority of his underlings feel hard done by him and might turn if given the right encouragement, though they may prove untrustworthy. Solace's old supporters have been ruthlessly hunted and will be mistrustful of newcomers, especially those that fought under the usurper. Minerva's clan are powerful nobles in their own right in a neighboring territory, and once they have their daughter back would be happy to throw their support behind the party's plan to oust the useless tyrant, provided the party are willing to play ball with them.

Sabrian has been unravelling, retreating from public life, executing his servants an courtiers for suspected treason, even keeping his formerly loving wife locked in a tower for the better part of a year. In the ten years since he married Minerva to secure her parent's support for his usurpation he has been unable to father a child, no matter what healers he turns to or what concubines he lays with. The inability to produce an heir was one of his primary reasons for going to war with Solace, and now he is failing in that exact same noble duty. This rather ironic fate was delivered unto him by Litirenn, god of farmland and cultivation, as punishment for burning one of the god's shrines during his rampage through the countryside ( along with the shrinekeeper who was an outspoken proponent of Solace's reforms. The god is going to be watching the party's actions closely if they set themselves in opposition to the duke, giving them a nudge now and again, ensuring the land rises to support them, that kid of thing.

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#villain noble #rebelion #mid level #rescue mission #bandits #mountain villain #villain #encounter town #encounter city #encounter market

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 23rd

Day 23: Breeding/Impregnation, Fancy Dress, Frottage

Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of bastards, sex work, breeding, pregnancy, vaginal sex

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Perfect.” His hands slide over your skin, making you shiver as he continues to stare at you. His dark eyes assess you. Stepping back and raking them up and down your body when he tilts his head and reaches out to cup both of your breasts. Weighing them in his hands and you bite your lip to keep from moaning softly. 

Then those hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them, measuring them. “Yes. Nice hips.” He smirks, obviously thinking of something as you stand in front of him, completely nude. “Wide enough for my plans.” 

You’ve slept with him before. Fucked him everytime that he has come through your city. Preferring your bed over the brothels, but tonight he was acting differently. HIs kisses had been more urgent, sharper. His hands were more insistent as he had stripped you down. 

“Plans?” Your brows arch up, unsure of what the fuck he was talking about. You know that lords get away with anything. They were never held to the same standards as their lessers, allowed to speak and act as they chose as long as it wasn’t to anyone above them. For most, that was the King. For Oberyn, that was seemingly no man. 

For a second son, Prince Oberyn did not act like others. He was rash, reckless. Spreading his pleasure all over Westeros. Having already been banished by his brother for killing another lord in a fight after being found in bed with the man’s wife and his mistress. It’s said he was father to two bastard daughters. He claimed them. He acknowledged them and brought them to Sunspear. Not hidden away like sordid secrets. 

Oberyn hums, pursing his lips and trailing his fingers back up your body to slide up your neck. The ring on his finger is warm from his body and he taps it against your chin. “You will look magnificent dripping my seed.” 

That is not something that is unusual, Oberyn is a very sensual, adventurous lover. He often wants what he wants, but he’s not one to deny you pleasure. All of your time together is spent in different positions, different experiences. 

“Then I will prepare my tea.” You hum, surprised when he shakes his head. 

“No.” He decides, “no tea.” 

“My prince….” You are at a loss for words, unable to understand what exactly he means by this. You are aware that the prince is unmarried, you had asked that before you had ever allowed him in your bed. You do not wish to bed a married man. It’s not like you are ever the type of woman the Prince of Dorne would be allowed to marry. You don’t have that kind of influence. “If I don’t-” “You might have my bastard.” Oberyn hums easily, almost slippery. As if it is something that he has already thought of and dismissed as inconsequential. “You might be barren.” 

You frown at his comment. “I have my monthly.” You protest but he shrugs. 

“Sometimes a healthy woman cannot bear a child despite that.” He tells you, reminding you that he had spent a few years training as a maester. He smirks, “however I feel as if you will easily take my seed and grow a child.” 

“Why?” You can’t understand why Oberyn would want you to carry his child. Especially when he obviously does not want a wife, nor need a legitimate heir. 

He growls, a deep sound vibrating through his chest as he slides his hand down to your stomach. Hold your womb. “I want to fill your belly with my bastard. To see you grow with my child and know that it is resting in your womb.” He groans, shuffling closer and pressing the throbbing evidence of his desire against your bare hip. “It excites me. Makes me want to bend you over right now and fuck you full of my seed.” 

You moan, his filthy words making your cunt clench and drip with desire. You don’t know why it sounds so intriguing. You had never thought about carrying a babe, studiously taking your tea when you were with a lover. “And what of the child?” You ask. Plenty of nobles had no issue creating the bastards they had. They just had no use for them once their interest in their mother waned. “What of me?” 

Oberyn looks insulted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplates your question. As if he were deciding if he should be insulted by them. Only for his brows to unknit a moment later. “The babe lives with me.” He tells you. “As the mother, you would also be allowed to live in Sunspear.” 

Even as Oberyn moves you back, guiding you back towards the bed that has been adorned with fresh linens for his visit, you mull over his words. He wants you to carry his babe. To knowingly get pregnant with a bastard. To be a mother to one of his children. “And after the babe?” You ask seriously. “Then what?”

Oberyn snorts, his robe on the floor and he pulls his thin shirt over his head to toss it down as well. Stripping himself as bare as you are. “Then I will fill you again.” He groans, the front of his breeches twitching again. “We fuck every day, all day, until you are full again. Another babe.” He hisses. “And I’ll let any man or woman lick your cunt while you are round and full. But no man fucks you but me while you are carrying my child.” 

His fingers untie his breeches, opening them and pushing them down his hips. His boots had been discarded earlier, when he had entered your house, so now he is standing in front of you. His hard cock bobbing proudly in front of you. 

“So I would be your broodmare?” You ask quietly, still not understanding why the prince wanted you to carry his bastards. Why he wanted to purposefully breed them on you. “To have your babies?” 

His cock twitches and he wraps his hand around his cock with a groan. “I will breed you, yes. You will carry my bastards, yes. You will have anything you wish. Any lover. We will fuck them together. Men, women, every brothel we wish to seek out or a person who catches our eyes.” 

You had heard of Oberyn’s indulgences. Of his generosity with lovers and how free he could be with his cock and his purse at times. This doesn’t feel like he’s trying to talk you into just having his baby. It’s more like it’s a commitment to him. As committed as you could be to a man who had vowed to never marry. 

“Except when I am carrying your bastards?” You just want to clarify, make sure you understand. You have been so used to living however you choose, so you want to make sure you know what you are getting into. 

“I would let any tongue pleasure your cunt, any fingers bury themselves in your warmth, but only my cock would fuck your womb full. While the babe is resting inside. Then, after, you could have fifteen cocks inside your holes and I would watch while a mouth is around my cock.” He chuckles. “Then after you recover from that, I will plant my seed in your womb again.” 

“How many?” You ask, curious if Oberyn is planning on breeding a bastard army. He hums, kneeling on the bed and pulling your legs apart to shuffle between them. Eager to bury himself in your cunt while he talks of making a child with you. He had never known of his first two bastards until they were older. This time, he wants to be involved. To know that you are carrying his seed and keeping you nailed to the bed with his cock while you are. 

“As many as you will bear.” He groans, twitching as he guides himself to your entrance and sliding deep. He has a need to breed you, to plant his seed inside your womb and he will make sure that you are cared for. He would care for you. His lips fall on yours with a groan of your name and he starts to rock his hips. Determined to see you drip his cum and push it back inside your perfect cunt. “As many as we can have.” 

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn nymeros martell

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, the Lover, and the Bastard Son - Part 4

Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (he'll be in the next part)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here)

Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you in more ways than you thought possible.

Contents: Major spoilers for RE6, canon typical violence/swearing, mentions of blood being drawn, improper use of a syringe as an improvised weapon, angsty Jake content, angsty plot content, descriptions of blood and violence, dialogue heavy chapter. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

a/n: Hey peeps. It's me ya boi. I regret nothing for the events that are about to unfold. Thanks for reading :)

w/c: 10.8k+

There is no feasible way out of the cell that you’re confined in. After an indiscernible amount of time being unconscious from the gas released in the specimen room, you woke up here. As far as prisons go, it’s not half bad; a spacious white chamber with a basic cot with white sheets in the middle of the room. In the corner across from it is a security camera with a red light. What makes this room different from your handful of previous kidnapping quarters, are the metal shutters to the right of the entrance to the room that takes up the entirety of the wall. Given the room you were in reminded you of chambers for infected test subjects, there was a likely chance you were being observed through the camera on the other side of the wall.

There’s a second difference as well. You woke up with the crook of your arm wrapped in gauze and a cotton swab. These people had drawn blood from you while you were knocked out. Probably to test if you were compatible for the new virus you’re sure they’re making.

All you can do is wait and see if you’re right.

You aren’t too worried about your involuntary confinement. Not yet anyway. These people evidently want you alive and in one piece. You’re not too sure if Jake would be given the same courtesy though. If he was as skilled as he said he was, you would be willing to bet he was already long gone. If that boy had any sense, he would be trying to find a radio right now to signal for help.

You don’t have to wait too long with your thoughts. A short time after, you hear white noise hum from the speaker and the familiar higher pitched male voice echoes around the chamber.

“Good day, Dr. Wesker.” The voice is the same one you heard from the thin silhouetted man when you first arrived. He speaks in a slow, deliberate tone.

“Hello.” You answer back looking directly into the camera, keeping your tone neutral.

“I understand you had a little -detour- on the way to your room.”

“I did.”

“I would encourage you not to indulge in your wanderlust again, but you strike me as the type to take that as a challenge.”

You narrow your eyes at the camera and purse your lips. You don’t want to give anything away that would confirm the man’s assumption is correct. When you continue to be silent, the man speaks again.

“Forgive me, we haven’t made a proper introduction. I am Youju, one of the head researchers for Neo Umbrella. Welcome to my facility.”

You can’t find it in you to even care who he is. It doesn’t matter in the grand scope of things. As far as you’re concerned, Umbrella (or Neo Umbrella) was still just a terrorist organization that made bioorganic weapons. You don’t care about the specifics of what that means unless it’s relevant to preventing an outbreak.

“Will you just cut to the chase?”

There’s a pause from the speaker. “Pardon?”

You sigh and cross your arms, still looking into the camera. “I’ve done this song and dance multiple times and I have no patience for the dramatics anymore. What do you want?”

Silence from the speaker. You let out an annoyed huff.

“Do you have a new virus you want to test out on me? An old one you revamped? I’ve been proposed with job offers before but I’m letting you know right now-”

“No, no miss. Your purpose here today is much more… personal.”

That can’t be good.

“So I’m here for revenge? You’re going to have to specify. Albert had a lot of enemies, and I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with them.”

“You misunderstand what I mean when I say personal.” You can hear an underlying tone of deviousness in that statement. Youju continues.

“Tell me doctor, how have I gone all these years without knowing Albert Wesker had a son?”

You stand in stunned silence. Wesker? A father? The thought makes you want to laugh in disbelief. The only thing that stops you from doing so is the confidence in Youju’s voice.

What kind of ploy is this?

Is he trying to get you to admit a secret you don’t even have? You spend the next few moments thinking over what the man had just said, when you hear him tap the mic, which results in your ears being assaulted with high pitched feedback and you reflexively covering your ears.

“I’m not a patient man, doctor. Answer me.” Youju’s words are drawn out with a mocking, sing-song voice.

You lower your hands and stare directly into the camera, making a conscious effort to keep your tone even. “We never had any kids.”

Silence falls over the chamber again. Long enough that you think Youju must have left. However, you hear his voice again, but this time you hear a smile in his words.

“… well this is quite an interesting development. I have someone I want to introduce you to. Mrs. Wesker.”

The tone in his voice clearly indicates he doesn’t believe you.

A deep metallic click sounds through the chamber before the metal shutters next to you begin to raise themselves up, groaning their whole journey to the ceiling. As they ascend, the shutters reveal a window to another room. Although surprisingly, there aren’t any Neo Umbrella personnel behind the glass. Instead, the panels reveal an identical chamber to yours, except it’s Jake on the other side of the glass sitting on the bed and leaning on his knees. The bottoms of his pants are covered in dark mud, a part of his sleeve looks scorched, and there’s a sizeable gash on his temple that had scabbed over next to his buzzed ginger hair. Blood that has long since dried had trickled down next to the large diagonal scar on the left side of his face. In other words, he’s much worse for wear than the last time you saw him. Whoever came into the room to investigate the alarm really did a number on him.

You see a discarded bundle of gauze with a slightly bloody cotton ball in Jake’s room. These people took blood from him too.

That grating voice over the loudspeaker interrupts your thoughts.

“Mr. Muller! I hope you’re finding your accommodations acceptable.”

Acceptable was a stretch, but at least your rooms had the bare necessities. You can’t say the same for your past accommodations with other organizations.

Jake shrugs and leans back, taking a look around the room. You hear his voice come from a hidden speaker near the window.

“Not bad, asshole. Feels like I’m shacking up at the Shitz Carlton.”

You would have smiled at that if that nagging sense of familiarity from earlier wasn’t still wracking your brain.

Where have I seen him before?

Youju quips back with that knowing tone over the speaker. “Even when corned in the lion’s den, you still have something witty to bite back with. Just like your father so I’m told.”

Jake’s carefree demeanor grows more rigid; shoulders squared, clenched jaw and sharpened expression. The man’s family is a sensitive subject.

“Where are my manners? Dr. Wesker have you had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Muller?”

It was hard to tell, but you could have sworn you saw Jake perk up at hearing your dreaded last name. You stare at him a moment longer.

“Can’t say I have before today.”

“Really? Are you certain?” The way Youju says that makes it seems like he’s trying to make you doubt an obvious answer to a trivia question. You stare at Jake, and he stares back, unblinking.

You turn back towards the camera.

“I would remember the scar. I haven’t met this man.”

“Interesting. Why don’t you look closer?”

The man from the speaker obviously wants to get some sort of point across to you, so you humor him. Sighing and shifting your weight, you turn to Jake. You look past the grime, the evidence of fights lost, and modern clothes.

You look at his face, his eyes…

You stop breathing.

You thought about what Youju had said before. Albert Wesker had a son.

Your mind races with a cacophony of scrambled thoughts over the next few seconds.

How did these people figure out Wesker had a son before you did? He looks like him. How did he go this long without being discovered? It’s likely Jake’s blood is special like Albert’s, so they’d want a promising candidate for virus injections. Who is his mother?

You don’t know where it comes from in the moment, but all you can picture is a displeased Albert holding a ginger headed baby, with his nice work shirt covered in spit up while another woman takes a picture and laughs.

It starts as a giggle, but the longer you think about this scenario, the more ridiculous the thought becomes and the harder it becomes to keep your shoulders still.

“So tell me doctor, what are your thoughts?” Youju replies smugly, waiting for your response.

You can’t help it. You start laughing like an insane woman. Jake’s existence was the cherry on top of an already stressful situation. Your body is exhausted from the journey here, you’re still processing the emotional whiplash from seeing and destroying the Uroboros sample, you’re mentally and emotionally done with everything that could possibly relate to Wesker and now you find out he has a son that isn’t yours? You just find the whole situation so absurd that you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

It's clear that Youju doesn’t find your reaction amusing. His tone is cold and controlled when he speaks next. “Enlighten me Wesker, what could possibly be so funny?”

When you finally catch your breath, you look at the camera again with tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.

“This… establishment is really scraping the bottom of the barrel for bright and promising imbeciles, aren’t they?”

Silence, then the sound of a throat being cleared.

“Oh really? And why is that?”

Youju’s voice is flat. Controlled. You had struck something sensitive, and you intend to use it to your advantage to get a moment alone with Jake.

“Because this is ridiculous! Albert Wesker? A father- his father? Are we talking about the same Wesker?”

“His blood sample suggests otherwise-”

“And how do you know that exactly?”

Silence.

You let out a deranged cackle.

“I think I understand now. You found this stranger helping me in the middle of your ocean getaway, you thought he looked like Wesker, and your only plausible conclusion was that he has to be my son. So you’re comparing his DNA to mine because Wesker’s genome is impossible to find. Is that it?”

Youju struggles to stay composed under a guise of false confidence.

“Well we… any reputable institution would confirm hypotheses by… conducting their own independent tests and gathering their samples directly from the source.”

You hum and step a little closer to the camera.

“You know, Umbrella used to check their homework before going through the trouble of kidnapping persons of interest. Just goes to show that the copy is always going to be a letdown from the original.” You made sure to look straight into the camera when you say that, and it has the desired effect.

“You…I-I’ll know you’re lying one way or another soon Wesker!” Unlike before, there was no trace of confident humor. Instead, the voice spits out the words with prideful fury.

“Then by all means, do it. Waste everyone’s time. Hell, I’ll even volunteer for another blood sample when it comes back negative.”

It’s silent for a long time until the white noise from the speaker cuts out and all you can hear is the fluorescent lights above you.

You hear a muffled voice on the other side of the glass. “Hey Wesker!” Youju must have switched off the window speaker.

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. You turn to the window. Jake stands there, forearm resting on the glass above his head and observing you like a slide under a microscope. “Like I told you before, just Doc is fine.” You respond, annoyed.

You look up at the camera and see its beady red light still trained on you. You look between the camera and Jake. No use being stealthy. You walk over to the window with a determined look on your face, already in problem solving mode.

“We both know that test is going to come back negative.”

“Uh huh… and?” Jake responds, unimpressed.

“Personnel are going to come back eventually for another sample. Make it count and make it hurt although based on your current state-” You gesture to Jakes muddy and burnt clothes. “-your technique needs some work.”

Jake scowls. “My ‘technique’ is just fine.”

“Then prove me wrong.”

It doesn’t take too long for your assumption to come true. After a long stretch of time that you try to fill by pacing your room, you hear several sets of footsteps outside the room. A moment later, you see two men in lab coats accompanied by one guard armed with an electric baton and one armed with a pistol enter Jake’s room on the other side of the glass. 

Jake deals with them in a similar quick and efficient fashion to what you saw before when you first met him, except his moves are much more violent and incensed. Nothing like the cool and confident rescuer you first thought him to be.

The men in lab coats gesture for Jake to roll up his sleeve. Jake complies and one of the men puts a band on his upper arm to cut off blood flow. When the other man goes to do the blood draw, Jake grabs the syringe and plunges it into the man’s eye, causing to scream in pain and stumble back. The other scientist is frozen in fear as the two guards spring into action. The guard with the baton reaches Jake first, but he’s prepared to duck under the guard’s wide swing and he easily kicks the guard’s feet out from under him in one graceful move. As soon as the guard’s body hits the floor, Jake wastes no time grabbing the back of his head and chin and forcing his neck to an unnatural angle, immediately making the guard go limp.

The other guard is yelling something in that unfamiliar language while pointing his gun at Jake, but Jake doesn’t even acknowledge it as he charges at him with full speed. The guard is only able to shoot once, barely missing his shot, before Jake unleashes a flurry of blows, his skill in hand-to-hand combat evident in the way he dodges all the guard’s attempts at defense with ease.

While Jake is busy with the other guard, the remaining scientist finally comes to his senses and begins to run out of the room. But by the time he makes it to the door of Jake’s chamber, Jake has already disarmed and shot the other guard in the head. By the time the scientist opens the door, Jake has already lined his shot up perfectly and shoots the scientist dead in his tracks, blood leaking from the bullet wound on the back of his head.

The sight in the other room is grisly, but nothing you’re not already used to from the lifestyle you’ve lived. Once the last scientist is taken care of, you knock on the window to get Jake’s attention. He turns to you, breathing heavily and ripping off the rubber armband from earlier.

“Grab all their keycards! Can’t hurt to have them just in case.”

Jake nods and grabs the keycards from all the bodies, then exits the room. Shortly after, there’s a ping from your door and it opens to reveal Jake on the other side of it.

“Let me see?” You request, briskly walking outside the room and holding out your hand for the keycards. Jake plops them in your hand, looking at you closely. You ignore it and flip through the keycards, trying to discern security level but failing because the only difference between the two are the colors; red for the scientists and black for the guards. You halve them and give one of each back to Jake, which he pockets. He’s still holding the pistol he got from the guard at his side.

“Guess we’ll find out which have higher clearance when the time comes.”

Jake is still looking at you with that analyzing expression. “So you-” Jake is interrupted by an ear piercing alarm and the room is bathed in a foreboding red light.

“Time to move!” Jake grabs your upper arm before you can protest and runs out a door and down the hallway, half dragging you behind him while you struggle to keep up with his pace. You don’t know where you’re running to and Jake doesn’t appear to know either. You both keep running until you reach a four-way hallway where the alarm isn’t as loud and the lights are normal. Jake pauses, taking a moment before deciding where to run. You take the opportunity to yank your arm back, rubbing away the sting of Jake’s harsh grip.

“Wait, why aren’t there any guards? Or people?” You say, not quite sure where to go. Maybe it’s residual memories from working at Umbrella, but seeing the nearly identical hallways so empty is setting off alarm bells in your head.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Jake replies, irritated, taking a few steps to look down one of the hallways trying to decide where to go while he holds his pistol defensively, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

“There’s no people! You don’t find that weird?”

“We’ve got bigger problems right now!” Jake snaps, looking at you with a cold stare. Not a second later, the ear-piercing alarm cries overhead and the lights flick to red.

“We’re going left.” Jake says, running down the left hallway with you tailing right behind him. As you’re running, you notice the grating on the floor.

You realize it’s like the flooring in the specimen room, and suddenly more details about this place make sense.

There’re no people around because they use the knockout gas as a security measure.

The guards wear gas masks so they don’t lose consciousness during breaches.

The alarms and lights warn employees to get to a safe place or avoid the area.

Unfortunately, you put all of this together in the middle of the hallway when the security doors at both ends light up red, rise up from the floor, and close with loud metallic clicks. You hear loud hissing from below you, and you realize with dreaded clarity that the hallway is starting to fill up with gas.

You quickly scan the hallway and see a door with a red marking on it like the one on the scientist keycard.

“Red door on your right! Move it!” You command, already running to the door, keycard in hand.

You don’t need to tell Jake twice. Jake wastes no time dashing into the suggested room once you scan the card. You follow Jake into the room right on his heels. The second you’re through the threshold of the door, you scan the keycard to close the door and engage the emergency lock, emergency protocols drilled into your head from your time at Umbrella taking over. The door beeps and hisses shut just in time to cut off the gas from invading the room you and Jake just entered. The room appears to be some kind of office with several desks around the room. The alarm on the other side of the door is barely heard in this room. You’re safe. For now.

You take a shaky and labored breath while leaning against the door, trying to get your bearings.

Too close.

Your break is quickly interrupted by an accusatory comment from Jake. “You knew him well, huh?”

You stay silent and finally look at Jake. His expression is a cocktail of anger and frustration, even as he’s trying to catch his breath. You glance at Jake’s hand by his side; he’s gripping his pistol tightly and his face is grim and cold. It doesn’t help that you’re looking at Jake with an exasperated and annoyed look.

“You of all people should know why I don’t freely give out my last name.”

You give Jake a ‘what the fuck are you doing’ look and Jake tightens his grip on his pistol as he lifts it a few inches like he’s thinking about aiming it. A few seconds pass and Jake takes a deep breath as he sheathes the pistol.

“Fair enough. But I have questions.”

You let out a crazed laugh and start to feverishly pace the room, still in disbelief at the sudden appearance of your husband’s bastard child. “I’m sure you do! I’ve sure as hell got some!” Your tone comes off as angry, but in reality you’re frustrated.

“I’m not too happy he’s my dad either lady!”

“That’s not- ugh. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just-” You take a breath and try to relax your shoulders, so you don’t snap at Jake again. “The B.S.A.A. and I have a deal. I tell them everything I know, and I help their scientists deal with bioterrorism. In exchange, I’m supposed to get protection and they keep me in the loop. Simple right? But then-” You stop pacing and gesture to Jake. “-I get kidnapped, again, and I find out my dead husband has a whole ass… grown… child! In their organization! That’s a pretty major development if you ask me!”

You stop pacing the room and plop down in a chair and put your head in your hands, then run your hands through your hair. What else aren’t the B.S.A.A telling you? What isn’t Chris telling you? Did he know about this? He has to. You haven’t done anything to your knowledge to warrant them keeping something this big from you. Did they think you’d not take the news well? Take it out on Jake? Leak the information out of misplaced anger for Albert being with another woman?

“I don’t care what kind of bullshit deal you’ve got with the Bioterrorism Boy Scouts. I’ve got questions and I think considering everything, I deserve some fucking answers.” Jake’s steely look from the chamber is trained directly on you.

“You-” You stop. You’re about to tell him now isn’t the time and that you both need to prioritize finding a radio to call for help and come up with an exit plan, but you don’t. You can’t deny that you want to know more about Jake. He’s rightfully demanding answers about a father he presumably never knew. You know the B.S.A.A hasn’t been forthcoming about new information to you, so they probably haven’t disclosed much to Jake. You also know they won’t be too pleased about you spilling top secret intel about Albert to his son.

“You’re right. He’s your dad, you deserve to know. You didn’t hear this from me, okay? I don’t need more reasons for B.S.A.A.’s finest to dislike me.”

Jake silently looks at you, then nods his head. “Deal.”

You nod back. “Alright. You first.”

Jake leans against the wall, looking at you with a serious expression. “What kind of man was Albert Wesker?”

You look at him, confused. “I’m assuming you already know what kind of man he was.”

“I do. I’ve heard a hell of a lot about my old man, but not from the woman who knew him best. What kind of man was he?”

“An intelligent psychopath with a god complex.” You pause. “Well... the god complex came later. But still.”

“Intelligent? That’s not what I heard.”

“What did you hear then?”

“That he was crazy and he tried to destroy the world.” Jakes voice drips with disdain.

“Crazy and intelligent aren’t mutually exclusive traits. Are you positive that these people didn’t know who you were before they tested your blood?”

Even with everything that had just happened, you still couldn’t wrap your head around why you were brought here. To your knowledge, Neo Umbrella didn’t know Jake existed before an hour ago, let alone know that he was Albert’s son. How they knew he was Albert’s son is still unclear to you since his genome is highly classified information. The man on the speaker said your purpose here was personal but didn’t give any indication that it was related to revenge. What did he mean by that? How does this all connect?

“Hundred percent. If he was like that, why’d you marry him then?” Jake’s tone is accusatory, and a scowl that eerily reminds you of Albert adorns his face.

You’re annoyed with the one-word answer and his tone, but you keep your feelings to yourself. You know Jake has complicated feelings when it comes to his father, and he’s dead. You’re the next best thing when it comes to closure. After a moment you calmly and neutrally respond to Jakes question.

“When I first met him, I thought he was a very different man. Sure, he was stoic, cold and all business at the Umbrella Labs, but with me he was romantic, charismatic, and thoughtful." You feel like Jake’s gaze is piercing into your soul, so you look away and stare at the ground instead. “Three years I thought that. Then the mansion incident happened, and everything changed for the worse.”

“Romantic? Hmph. Yeah sure…”

You frown and let out a resigned sigh, shoulders slumping in the process, and you respond in a tired tone. “Has there ever been anyone in your life that you trusted with your whole being and they ended up being someone you didn’t even recognize?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jake cross his arms and scowl become more prominent. Another sensitive subject. You move on.

“He was unfathomably good at making you believe he was someone else. He did it with me. He did it with his S.T.A.R.S. squad at R.P.D. He even did it to Umbrella. In the end, he was just a power-starved monster.”

“R.P.D? He was a cop too?”

You turn your head back towards Jake in surprise. You would have thought that Albert’s previous jobs were easy pieces of information to get ahold of, but then again, Jake may have not cared enough to know. Jake’s expression is still unreadable apart from his voice dripping with contempt as he asked that question. You keep your answer clinical and to the point. “Yeah. He was a scientific prodigy and worked at Umbrella as a researcher really young. Then one of his projects stalled and he became an Umbrella spy and worked in the U.S. Army and then became the captain of the Rescue Service at the police station. After that: bioterrorist.”

You stop and wait for any follow up questions. When Jake only continues to stare you down, you ask your next question.

“Who knows that he’s your father?”

“Couple of guys in the B.S.A.A. and a handful of government agents. Everyone else who knew is dead. What happened after the Mansion Incident? Between you two? There has to be more to that story.” Jakes expression grows darker and more serious.

The thought crosses your mind that you should lie about how you felt, but you have a feeling that you needed to be open with Jake. He deserves the truth, no matter how unpleasant the answer will be.

“I was devastated. When what was left of his team returned from that mansion, I simply didn't want to believe it. I didn't even know he worked for the R.P.D. before that day, and they’re telling me he led his team to die at a mansion in the mountains with a secret Umbrella lab I didn’t know existed? The whole thing sounded crazy." You stop and choose your next words delicately before continuing.

"You have to understand that I loved him at the time. I was in denial. I was mourning. I didn't know he survived the mansion until the Racoon City incident. He could have let me die in Racoon when everything when to shit but he didn't. Instead, he sent a mercenary after me to rescue me and kept me with him until he was killed."

Jake gives you a long look when you finish, his eyes fixed and unblinking. You can tell he’s digesting your every word, as his jaw tenses and his knuckles whiten from the force of his fists clenching with his arms are still crossed.

“… so he saved you?”

His voice is icy, and there’s a dangerous edge to his tone that you’ve never heard before. Each word sounds like it’s taking great effort to force out. “Why?”

A pang of fear goes through you at his change of tone. You hit something sensitive, and you don’t even know what it is, which only makes you more nervous. “I don’t have a good answer for that.” Your voice comes out softer than you intend, but you do a good job of masking how intimidated you are by Jake in the moment. Logically, you know he’s probably not going to fly off the handle and do anything to you, but his eyes and expressions are so similar to Albert’s that it’s instinctively putting you on edge.

Unless Albert told you directly, knowing the inner workings of his mind was a challenging task even for you. You’d asked yourself that question and reflected on a possible answer countless times over the years, and each time you came to a slightly different conclusion. On the occasional day where you really missed your marriage before the Mansion Incident, you thought he may have been fond of you in some way. On days like this, your theories were a bit more realistic. You were a means to an end.

Either way, Jake’s eyes are boring into your soul as he’s waiting for you to answer his question.

“At the time, I thought it was because he loved me. But now-” You pause for a moment, desperately trying to gather your thoughts to present them in a way that won’t upset Jake further. “-I have two theories. Either he saw me as an asset with my virology knowledge and kept me close just in case, or he just saw me as something that was his. He almost always used possessives when he addressed me. My darling, my dear, my love. That kind of thing.”

Jake remains silent and his body language still has that edge to it like a cord dangerously close to snapping. You opt to ask a more neutral question.

“How long have you known about Wesker?”

“A year. So he saw you as an asset? You helped him with his plans?”

“No! Fuck no. He definitely wanted me to, but I refused every single time. I still looked at all the lab results and things the he left laying out to stay up to date on what he was planning, but I never gave him feedback.”

“If you refused, why the hell did he keep you around?” Another accusatory, but valid question. Albert wasn’t exactly the forgiving type if he didn’t get what he wanted.

“I think he thought he could wear me down or change my mind eventually. I work fast. I’m good at seeing patterns and remembering small details. My guess is that he didn’t want to get rid of me if there was the possibility of me being useful.” You catch yourself becoming slightly defensive, so you make a conscious effort to reel your emotions in before you ask Jake your question. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Edonia. If you were so against helping him, then why did you stay, huh?”

You’re starting to feel anger boil up in you.

“I was just happy to have my husband back at first! I tried leaving when I realized what he wanted to do. I really did. But by the time I took off the rose colored glasses, I’d seen too much and I was either locked up or he had someone babysitting me so I couldn’t run off. And Edonia? Really? That’s a long way from the U.S. Is that where your mom’s from?”

“Why do you care, huh?” Jake snaps at you, fire in his eyes and nostrils flaring.

You’re slightly taken aback with Jake’s combative response. “Because if anyone finds out she’s associated with Wesker in any way, she’s going to be in danger and needs protection.”

“Don’t need it. She’s dead.” Jake’s face holds no traces of relaxed cockiness like earlier. His expression has morphed into an explosive combination of wrath and pain. “And you know why? Because daddy dearest wasn’t there to pay for her medical bills. He walked out and didn’t fucking look back, yet she still acted like he was this exceptional man who could do no wrong.”

The atmosphere of the room is thick with tension. Even through Jake is a few feet away still leaning on the desk, you feel small and defenseless sitting in your office chair. You feel like the energy in the room could snap at any moment, so you keep your tone sympathetic, but firm.

“I’m sorry about your mom. But you need to believe me when I tell you that you are lucky he was never in your lives-“

“Lucky? That psychopath sent someone to a city that was tearing itself apart to save you but couldn’t send a damn check to save my mom?”

You’ve been patient throughout this whole exchange, and you were resigned to be Jake’s verbal punching bag. But suggesting Albert would have helped Jake’s mother without consequences? That’s the final straw that inevitably makes you lose your composure.

“Did you grow up feeling loved?” The question is sudden. Blurted without thinking of what could come after.

Jake’s angered expression morphs into confusion. “What?”

You know you’re playing with fire with this line of questioning, but you don’t see any other option that will be as effective. “Did your mother… tell you she loved you, make sure you had your coat before leaving the house? Hug you goodbye? Tell you bedtime stories?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Did she?” You don’t back down. You need to make him understand.

“Yeah! She did!”

You nodded. “Good! You wouldn’t have gotten that with Albert. Far from it!”

“Oh yeah? And why do you think that Doc?”

“Is that your question?”

“Answer it.” Jake spits, anger boiling to the surface.

“Do you know anything about Project W?”

You take the silence as a no and continue.

“Albert was a product of one of Oswald Spencer’s projects, founder of Umbrella, headed by Dr. William Wesker. It was a eugenics-based plan to create a race of more intelligent, more fit more whatever superhumans. Your father was essentially raised in a lab.”

You pause to make sure Jake is following your words and keep going.

“There were hundreds of kids in this program. When they were adults, Spencer weeded out a group of thirteen including your father. All of them were given the progenitor virus whether willingly or unknowingly, and only Albert and another woman I’ve never met survived. Albert was the only one who gained superhuman abilities.”

Jake is silent for a moment, then responds, “When you say willingly or unknowingly-”

“Some of these kids didn’t know they were in the program.”

Silence.

“That is where your father came from. You want to know what kind of man he was? He was opportunistic and manipulative. I have no doubt that he would have used you as a guinea pig just like he was. He would have framed it in a way that made it look like he was doing what was best for you too. If he had stayed in your life, you would have been living in a lab waiting for him to shove a needle in your vein as a bonding activity.”

More silence. Jake’s expression is unreadable, but he doesn’t appear angry like before. His eyebrows are scrunched together and he looks at the floor, deep in thought. 

“Jake?” You say, gently. He doesn’t respond.

“Jake. Please look at me.” You try again a little louder, and he turns his head to look at you, Albert’s - Jake’s - pale blue eyes look more understanding.

“Do you understand everything I just told you?”

“Yeah. I just-” Jake pauses. “I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that.”

You nod and give him a sympathetic look. “I know it doesn’t make it better, but I don’t think he knew you existed. He would have seen you as an asset and tried to find you otherwise.”

Jake doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head to let you know he heard you.

“Loving him came at a price. Be thankful for the anonymity you have.”

“What was your price?”

Everything.

“My future.” Jake looks at you with an eyebrow raised, so you continue. “Because of the relationship I had with him, it’s impossible to live a normal life. I’ve tried, but there will always be people trying to find me to recruit me or kill me because of that.” You say this off-handedly. You’ve become used to this kind of life to the point where happenings like this feel routine.

You and Jake sit in silence. Jake’s presence doesn’t emit that aura of anger anymore.

“That’s not fair to you.”

You give Jake a wry smile.

“It’s not fair that he’s your father. We can’t change the past. But we can try to make the future a bit less shitty.” You quip with a wry smile.

Jake chuckles a little at that comment, and his smirk finally returns.

“You’re not-” Jake stops, and you wait for him to finish, “-how I expected you to be.”

“…thanks?” You reply, not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

Jake snorts at your comment. “And uh… sorry I got heated for a minute there.”

You give Jake a dismissive wave. “Hey, it’s not the first time I’ve gotten my ass chewed out because of Wesker, and it’s not going to be the last. At least yours was warranted. You love your mom. I can’t fault you for that.”

“Appreciate it.” Jake replies, his smirk disappearing after a moment.

“I’ve got one more… personal question.” Jake looks at you, a dark intensity to his gaze.

You nod. ”Go for it. You deserve to know.”

“Do you have any children?” After a long, silent pause, Jake’s eyes lose their intensity and he gives you a small, sympathetic look.

You give Jake a sad smile. “No. No we… everything I said before about bonding activities? That’s not anecdotal. Just conjecture. Just-“ You gesture to Jake. “You.”

That I know of.

You clear your throat. “How old are you, by the way? I’m just curious-”

“You don’t need to finish that, I get it. Twenty.”

“You look older.”

“Mercenary work and a civil war will do that to ya.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.”

You shift in your seat from the awkward turn of events and say your thoughts out loud. “Let’s see…” You do the math in your head. “That would’ve been ’92. I met him in ’95. We got married in ’97...”

“And everything with Umbrella went to shit in ’98.” Jake finishes.

You feel the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. “You’ve done your homework.”

The alarm outside the room suddenly stops, and you hear a hissing noise from the hallway outside. You look to the door, then back at Jake. “I’ll tell you more later. We gotta get moving.”

You stand up from your chair and check the panel on the door. Still red. It’s going to take a minute or two for the gas to filter out of the hallway. You look over your shoulder at Jake.

“Did you end up finding that sample by the way? Or a way to contact the Tokyo base?”

Jake frowns and checks his pistol. “No, but I have a better idea of where those things could be.”

 You sigh and shake your head. “Better than nothing, I guess. Any theories?”

Jake shrugs. “Half this place used to be a military base and the other half an Umbrella lab that’s had some renovations. The old lab holds the old samples-”

“So the newer part of the lab should have the new samples and the military part should have a radio?”

Jake smirks and points at you. “If everything goes right, we’ll be outta here by sunset.”

The office door panel beeps and lights up green. You smile and slide the red card and the door swooshes open. You look back to Jake. “I like the sound of that. Let’s go.”

As you both walk back out into the hallway, you notice it’s still eerily empty. However, the security doors are still engaged at both ends of the hallway. You and Jake walk over to the door you were heading through before the lockdown. You scan the red keycard and it declines. You huff and scan the black keycard, and you hear the lock disengage and the security doors split open and return their respectful halves to the floor and ceiling. You look at the black keycard with a stern look as Jake walks though.

“Only guards can open security doors? That sounds like a shitshow waiting to happen.”

“You an expert on security now too? C’mon we’ve got a schedule to-”

Jake is cut off by a loud buzzer, followed by the security doors slamming shut so you and Jake are on opposite sides. Jake hurries up to the doors and looks at you through one of the small windows in the middle.

“What the hell? Try the card again maybe it’s a timer thing.”

You scan the black card again, but it returns an error message. You shake your head in annoyance, but then it turns into concern when you hear shouting and footsteps from the direction of the observation rooms you were held in.

“It’s giving me an error message. Try yours on that side!” You shout at Jake through the door.

You see Jake’s face as he scans the panel on his side but based on how Jake grits his teeth in frustration he’s probably not having any better luck than you. You hear shouting and footsteps growing louder. Jake notices and tries to pry open the security doors with his hands. You scan the red card again, but it also returns an error message.

“Shit! Jake, they know which cards we took and deactivated them. They’re no good!”

You throw down the cards and take a few steps back to get a better look at the hallway to find an alternate route or some structural weakness in the door arch, but you notice nothing. The sounds of guards shouting and running are getting even closer. Your only chance of getting out of here is Jake. He can’t be here when you’re ultimately discovered.

You hurry back up to one of the windows on the security door to shout at Jake. “You need to go, now!”

Jake ignores you and keeps looking for purchase on the door, but it’s too smooth to get a decent grip to pull it open.

“Jake!” You scold.

Jake pauses to look at you, scowling.

“They obviously want me alive I’ll be fine. You find that sample and radio for help. I’ll stall for as long as I can.”

Jake’s scowl on his face deepens as he tries to open the mechanical door again, but his efforts are fruitless. He finally slams a hand on the door and lets out an annoyed huff and looks back at you through the window.

“You’re sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

More yelling and bangs echo down the hall.

“More than likely, yes. Just be quick about it. I’d rather not be a lab rat if I can help it.”

Jake takes one more analyzing look at the door and gives you a curt nod, clearly not happy with the new set of circumstances.

“Don’t say anything that’ll piss em’ off more.”

“No promises, now go!”

You turn around at the sound of the opposite security door opening, and you hear Jake’s footsteps grow further and further before they disappear and are replaced with the stomping of a battalion of gas masked soldiers. A group of eight quickly block off your only exit and train their semi-automatic TMP’s on you. Seeing as you’re heavily outnumbered, you put your hands up in surrender.

As you do, a wiry man a little taller than you walks leisurely through the intimidating crowd of masked faces. He wears a suit under a pristine white lab coat and looks at you with cold eyes through a pair of square glasses.

“Where is Muller, Doctor?”

You recognize the lilting voice immediately. This is Youju. Your immediate impression is that he’s much too young to be the director of this facility. But then again, Umbrella is chock full of young prodigies. Time to buy Jake some time.

“I could care less about where he went. As I told you before, he’s not my son.”

“I see.” Youju walks a few steps past the line of guards towards you and looks at the mechanical door behind you, skeptical.

“Why stop here Dr. Wesker? Why this door?”

“Because your security system needs some work. It closed and it can’t be opened.” You reply, curtly.

“Then why didn’t you run?”

“I’ve been in enough scrapes to know when I’ve been backed into a corner.” It’s not a lie. Even though your main goal is to distract these people, you know when you’re beat. Especially when you have an overwhelming handful of guns trained on you.

Youju frowns. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where. Is. Muller?”

“I. Don’t. Know. We went our separate ways when it became convenient.” You reply condescendingly, already tired of answering Youju’s questions.

Youju narrows his eyes at you, calculating his response. “Very well then. Since you’re so keen on seeing what amenities this facility has to offer, allow me to give you a guided tour.”

“I’d rather go back to my room. I’ve had enough cardio for today.”

Youju waves his hand and the guards put their guns down, save for one who quickly positions himself behind you with his gun still aimed at your back. Youju gives you a chilling smile. “I must insist, Doctor.”

As Youju walks back through the crowd of guards, he announces one more command to the crowd of guards.

“Find the other one. Alive. Maim him if you must, but ensure he is brought to me in one piece.”

Not ten minutes later, Youju and his guard lead you deeper into the facility, seemingly with one destination in mind for your guided tour. Youju leads the way in front of you, while the soldier trails behind never once lowering his weapon. He seems to be leading you into the newly renovated parts of the lab. There are no windows into the many rooms you pass so you have no inkling of what could be going on behind closed doors, but Youju ignores all of them in favor of the main lab at the center of the facility.

He scans a white key card and a large lock disengages from the mechanism in the middle of the door, spinning until it’s completely free before the doors finally open to reveal another set of sliding doors. Youju scans the card again and enters with you and the soldier right behind him.

It's a room with several scientists checking over miscellaneous machines and monitors, as well as fridges with multiple different colored chemical substances. All of them periodically glance over their respective stations and into the observation chamber below through the window that takes up the entire expanse of the wall opposite the door. A handful of soldiers line the wall in the back of the room. Youju saunters in and stands by a monitor that flickers to show a different part of the facility every fifteen seconds or so. A microphone stands idly next to it. Youju trains his dark eyes on you, a barely noticeable sly smile on his face.

“Welcome to the inner sanctum, Doctor. I would like your thoughts on my latest and greatest project.”

You cross your arms defiantly and shift your weight with a bored expression on your face. “As I said before, I have no interest in any job you have to offer me.”

“I didn’t offer you employment. I only ask that you take a cursory look. I assure you, he will be of great interest to you.” Youju speaks in that same, know-it-all tone from when you were stuck in your quarters. Like he wants you to figure out his point.

Better yet, who’s ‘he?’

You roll your eyes and humor him.

You look over the consoles and into the chamber below. There are illuminated chambers filled with substances you don’t recognize and over a dozen machines tracking something you can’t discern from this distance. The cylindrical tank in the middle of the room is the focal point of the observation chamber. It glows with a foreboding orange light, illuminating the space in between itself and you. At first, you can’t tell what the tank holds with the light emanating from it shining in your eyes. When your eyes adjust to the light, one by one you notice features of the creature inside; you see the outline of a man. Then notice one of its arms is much longer and darker than the other. The scar tissue across its chest. Then, most devastatingly, disheveled, slicked back blonde hair.

Your heart drops and your annoyed expression shifts into something much more terrified.

“Where… that’s not…”

But it was. Behind the glass in the chamber below was the body of a mutated Albert Wesker floating in a liquid filled chamber. His chest and legs are overtaken by burnt scar tissue, but otherwise look about the same as the last time you saw him; although you don’t like to think about that series of events.

The bomber. The volcano. The helicopter that he almost pulled down into the lava with him. Any one of those scenarios could have easily ended with your death, the world ending or Uroboros in your arm. Not that the three were that different regarding the death part.

 The last time you saw Wesker, he had mutated into the monster he had become on the inside. His snake eyes glowed red, black Uroboros burst from beneath his skin around his eyes, worms of Uroboros completely overtook his chest and arms, which he could stretch to great lengths, and he was altogether consumed by rage. Rage against Chris for besting him once again, rage against himself for underestimating him, and you were certain rage against you for betraying him.

You stare blankly into the chamber as the reality of the situation sets in: Youju went to great lengths to find Albert. You didn’t know how he could have found him after so long, but you knew this man had to mine through volcanic rock at best and perform an underwater excavation of a volcano at worst to exhume him. Whatever he has planned, it can only spell doom for whatever unfortunate soul falls in Albert’s wake. Your body can’t bring itself to move, so you stand frozen by the console of the observation room overlooking the chamber Albert is in.

“The union of Wesker and Uroboros is truly a remarkable miracle of nature,” Youju says smugly, relishing in your shock.

All you can do in the moment is gape at your husband in horror.

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Your voice comes out small. Rattled. Nothing like how you planned when you stepped into this room.

“Natural? That’s a matter of perspective, Doctor. We are seeing evolution in real time.” Youju is enjoying your torment, but there is a pit forming in your stomach that is screaming for you to talk sense into him. You know in your bones that this is a bad idea, but you can’t articulate it into words that will break through to the Director. You knew men like him. He won’t listen until it’s too late, but you try anyway.

“Whatever you’re planning is not worth the consequences you’re going to reap from playing God.” You still stare at Wesker’s peaceful, mutated face.

“I assure you it will be. Your husband is an incredible case study. He was medically dead when we found him, but you know as well as I do that the dead don’t tend to stay that way for long in our profession. Uroboros preserved his brain and nervous system better than any modern medical instrument you or I could have hoped to have at our disposal.” Youju explains with pride.

“Weapon, DNA, or emotional blackmail?” You reply cooly, still staring at Wesker in the chamber below.

“Whichever has the highest bidder. Although I think the value of a subject like him transcends material wealth, so I’ll hold off on an auction for now. I have more pressing plans first.”

You break your gaze from Wesker’s body in the chamber and look at Youju with a cautious expression, curious as to what he means.

“We know his brain is showing activity, but he hasn’t woken up you see. All the regular avenues for breaking comatose states have been exhausted.”

Youju turns to the chamber and puts his hand on the window thoughtfully as he speaks.

“Sure, we could harvest his DNA and easily make our investment in excavating him a drop in the bucket. As you’ve said, his DNA is one in a trillion. But it’s not just his DNA that makes him unique, it’s his mind as well. He was- is- the greatest mind manufactured by man. By Oswald Spencer himself. What I would give to speak with him! To know his thoughts on my research. To continue where Spencer was forced to stop.”

The Director looks away from Wesker and back to you, with a giddy look you know all too well. It’s a dissecting look of a scientist attempting to peel away the mystery of an unsolved problem.

“But then one of my researchers had an interesting hypothesis. This is not a regular subject so normal avenues are more than likely going to prove fruitless. Perhaps Wesker needs a familiar face as an extra incentive to chat with us. Someone who knew him much more personally than anyone else. Someone like you. We’ve already tried recordings of your voice, and they’ve yielded positive results, but not the one’s we’re looking for.”

“The saying ‘you should never meet your heroes,’ definitely applies in this case. You need to quit while you’re ahead. You’re inviting nothing but trouble by indulging this fantasy.” You warn, unable to wipe the look of barely contained terror on your face.

Youju tilts his head and gives you a mocking pout.

“Awww… what’s wrong Dr. Wesker? I thought this would be a happy reunion for you. After all, you survived him. He respected your intellect. It’s not every day that a genius offers his lover a place beside him in a new world. And don’t deny it. I’ve seen the footage of him offering you Uroboros on multiple occasions. I’m not a betting man, but I’d say those weren’t the only times he tried to convince you.”  

“Director, you need to stop-”

“Not until I get what I want.” Youju’s gaze turns cold and he flips a switch on the console in front of you both. A red light above it switches to green. The guard behind you raises his gun to your head. Youju turns his face towards the microphone but keeps his eyes on you.

“Albert Wesker, you have a visitor. A personal visitor. Go ahead and say hello my dear.”

You avoid looking into the chamber and keep your mouth shut while staring down Youju. You would rather die than awaken that monster.

“Your wife is here to see you Dr. Wesker. Mrs. Doctor Wesker, if you know what’s good for you, please speak into the microphone.” The tone the Director uses reminds you of a car salesman; sleazy and said with a gritted smile. Attempting to get you to bend to his will no matter the cost if it gets you to sign the metaphorical dotted line.

When you keep your mouth shut, Youju motions to the guard behind you and you feel the cold steel of the muzzle of the gun on the back of your head. Your breath becomes unsteady, but you stay silent. He needs you. He wouldn’t kill you so quickly when he needs you. You’re sure of it.

“You know I’m not a patient man dear. Speak, or I will make you.” Youju spits out the warning, his patience already wearing thin.

You clench your jaw and stay silent. You fully intend to stay quiet, even though the urge to call Youju a dumb motherfucker is strong. You see a flicker on one of the cameras on Youju’s monitor. A figure. You weren’t going to pay it any mind, but even out of the corner of your eye you recognize the large scar on the side of Jake’s face.

Youju lets out an annoyed huff at your continued silence, currently unaware of Jake’s presence. “I wanted to avoid making this messy, but it seems you’ve left me with no other option.”

Youju turns around and starts to bend down towards a drawer below the monitor. You panic. Jake is your only hope in getting the B.S.A.A. here. You can’t let his stealth go to waste.

“Albert!” You spit out the name without thinking. You already feel sick to your stomach at your choice of action, but it has its intended effect immediately. Youju snaps his attention away from the monitor’s direction and back to you, then back to the chamber, then to a monitor off to the side that you now realize is displaying brainwave activity. His brainwave activity. You hadn’t noticed it before because the brainwaves were barely perceptible, only small mole hills on a nearly straight line. Now, like a rising tide, the red wave on the monitor grows in intensity along with your heartbeat.

Youju stares at the monitor with you in awe, then turns his attention to the chamber while speaking to you. “Go on. Tell him to wake up.”

“Albert dear?” You pause to take a shallow breath of air. The red wave rises higher on the monitor. “I need you to wake up.”

The more the red wave rises, the more animated the other scientists in the room become. Youju most of all. Everyone buzzes with excitement over their machines and data displaying on the screens, but all you can do is stare at Wesker in the chamber with a lump in your throat.

You have an idea on how to get the upper hand. It’s stupid, suicidal, and against everything your brain is telling you not to do, but if it works it’s an almost guaranteed way for these people to lock you in your room again until the B.S.A.A. can get here with proper reinforcements.

“Albert help me they have a gun to my head!”

Almost immediately, beeping sounds emanate from each and every machine in the room. One by one, every piece of machinery has warning lights on their displays and nervous chattering erupts from the scientists. The red wave on the brainwave monitor devolves into jittery valleys and peaks. You see Wesker in his water chamber twitching, and his peaceful face morph into an angered scowl that you know all too well.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Youju scolds as he switches off the microphone. He grabs your shoulder in a tight grip and walks you back closer to the door away from the window seemingly the only one not concerned with the sudden uptick in activity on the monitors and more peeved at your little stunt.

“That’s enough from you for now Doctor.” He turns his attention to the guard behind you. Take her back to-”

Youju’s command is interrupted by the sound of glass cracking and metal screeching in the chamber below. Youju’s eyes grow wide and he immediately rushes back over to the window. He turns his head to say something, but before he’s able to, a pipe breaks through the glass of the observation chamber and into Youju’s skull with so much force that blood splatters on you from across the room and you stumble to the floor in your shock.

All hell breaks loose. Some scientists scream, others duck and cover, a handful try and fail to open the door to the hallway, the soldier leaves your side and open fires on Wesker in the chamber along with the other ones in the room.

You can’t seem to escape from the bloodshed. No matter where you turn, more blood splashes across your clothes but you manage to keep your escape in mind: grab Youju’s white keycard to get out of the room. You do your best to block out the grisly sight of Youju’s head as you army crawl across the floor. The white keycard, now stained crimson in some places, hangs precariously from his belt. A black and blonde blur dives into the room from the chamber and the screams grow louder and more frightened. You grab the keycard and you crawl behind a large cabinet that got overturned in the chaos in the corner of the room and make yourself as small as possible by hugging your knees to your chest. You clutch the keycard for dear life.

Meanwhile, in the background, you hear Wesker spewing insults as he tears through the room.

“Ignorant cretins! Worthless, self-righteous chaff! Inferior good for nothing fools!”

Something in Wesker’s voice puts you on edge, and it has nothing to do with the fact he’s seething with rage or leaving a trail of blood and viscera and broken machinery in his wake. You can’t quite describe it, other than that it sounds wrong. The voice is Wesker’s, but the tone and intonation are just… off. Your Wesker spoke in a much sharper and eloquent manner. This voice is direct and garbled in some places.

In the moment, you don’t know which voice you’d prefer. You don’t have time to think on it when you feel a presence behind you. It’s only now that you realize the screams and cries of pain have gone silent. Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice in your ear that makes the hairs on your neck stand up.

“My dear? Oh, how I’ve missed you my sweet…”    

You freeze. His tone is uncannily gentle. He’s so close, you can feel Wesker’s breath on your ear and neck. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run, but it’s like Wesker’s words have you under a paralytic spell.            

“How dare they touch what’s not theirs…”

A wet, slimy and black tendril slowly makes its way into the corner of your vision and gingerly tucks a flyaway hair behind your ear. You can’t bring yourself to move.

You sense Wesker move his head closer to yours until you can feel the damp heat of him over your shoulder. Glass breaks on the other side of the room and he whips his head towards the sound. There’s one last scientist left. She’s trying to climb into the observation chamber, but she stepped on a piece of glass and now she’s gaping at Wesker in fear.

Wesker attacks her with the bloodlust of a wild animal, plunging his Uroboros arm into her chest and not stopping his assault until it reveals itself again when it pokes out through her mouth. She doesn’t even have a chance to scream. Only gurgle sounds of pain.

The grisly sight finally breaks the spell, and you bolt to the sliding doors and run the second the door registers Youju’s keycard.

You don’t stop when you hear Albert calling your name behind you.

You don’t stop when you see other guards and scientists coming out into the hallway to observe what caused such deafening, monstrous noises.  

You don’t stop when you hear more screaming and gunfire erupting behind you.

You have no destination in mind when the hallways become unrecognizable.

The only thing consuming your thoughts is the fact that your psychopathic husband is alive, and that you’ve doomed the world because you destroyed the only Uroboros sample in existence to stop him in a misguided attempt to save it.

a/n 2: How's that for angst? More juiciness in the next part :)

If you've made it this far THANK YOU and sorry for this part being long I thought it would ruin the flow to split it up into two parts.

Tag List: @killerwendigo

#resident evil fanfiction #chris redfield x reader #but not in this part (again) because MORE PLOT #no beta we die like men #albert wesker #no use of y/n #angst #chris redfield #jake muller #resident evil #resident evil 6 #resident evil 6 spoilers #The Wife the Lover and the Bastard Son #resident evil 5

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Hiiii, could you do an aemond one shot where the reader is rhaenyra's and harwins daughter and she is married to jacaerys but just like her mother all her children are her lovers aka Aemond's but she's more open about their relationship. Like Rhaeynra has ignore it because she has had bastard children too even tho she's dying in the inside. Also Jacaeyrs will be king so "their" children will be heirs. I just live for the drama lol.

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Aemond x Niece!reader

summary: reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwins daughter and she is married to jacaerys but just like her mother all her children are her lovers aka Aemond's but she's more open about their relationship. Like Rhaenyra has ignore it because she has had bastard children too even tho she's dying in the inside. Also Jacaerys will be king so "their" children will be heirs.

Word count: 1,3K

Warnings: Angst, smut, P in V, infidelity

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"Do you really have to go?" Aemond whined, holding you close by the waist. His fingers kneading the flesh of your hips loving the extra weight added there from your last pregnancy wit your youngest, Aegor who was now two moons old.

"You know I do Aemond, the queen requested my presence" Your fingers threaded through his hair massaging his scalp. He whimpered at the pressure, his cock was slowly hardening again even though he had just emptied his load inside of you less than fifteen minutes ago.

"Will your husband be there?" Aemond asked. His hands slowly slithered down to your bottom groping the flesh. You gasped shocked by the harshness of his touch, you loved it so freaking much.

"Naturally as the father of Daerion he is requested for the preparations of his nameday" You pulled back to look down at his face. His head rested on the pillows with his hair around his head like a hallow of blonde-white hair. His eyepatch was nowhere to be found and his sapphire gleamed in the morning light.

"Another feast I presume" Aemond smirked as his thrusted his hips up earning a squeak from you. His cock was still stuffed inside of you growing harder by the second, your mere presence made him hard.

"Which reminds m-me of y-yesterday's feast. Did you really have to ngh flirt with that Baratheon girl?" You moaned throwing your head back with each move of his hips. You could not help but join his movement, rolling your hips before picking yourself to jump on his cock up and down, searching for your relief.

"Jealous are we?" Aemond teased rolling you over below him. He moved your legs to wrap around his waist so he could thrust deeper inside of you. You were used to him, all of him from all angles and positions and you loved every single one of them, every single inch you took inside of you.

"I just see that it was super unnecessary" You tried excusing your words. Aemond gave a particularly hard thrust, the sound of his balls meeting your ass made heat rise up to your cheeks. You cried out holding him closer. He leaned down to mouth as your neck making sure to nibble hard enough to leave marks for his sister to see.

"Just admit you are jealous" Aemond whispered in your ear, picking up his pace knowing you did not have much time together and you were needed to prepare for your son's nameday celebration.

"So what, you are mine and mine alone and I get to be jealous over you" You hissed. Aemond chuckled against your ear before a moan of his own slipped through to join your moans and cries of pleasure, he was near. You did not care who heard or who saw, you knew everyone knew of this happening. You heard the whispers and the talking so you did not give a rat's ass. Sometimes you would even spend the whole day in the gardens with Aemond and your children in front of people, you did not care. You were the wife of the heir who accepted your children and loved them as if they were his own making them legitimate, no one can say anything.

"It was only for show in front of your mother, my love" Aemond assured. Your fingers slid down his back as punishment making angry red lines down his back. He whimpered at the pain, he loved it so much. You cried throwing your head back as you spasmed around his cock, releasing your cum around his length. He followed you soon after shooting his white hot cum deep inside of your womb.

"I love you"

I love you too"

You and Jace married when you were very young, your relationship was neutral and still is. You tried doing your duty, many times but it only left you disappointed every time your moon's blood showed up and realised that one of you was barren. You wanted to see if it was you so you formed a plan in your head to seduce someone and sleep with them and Aemond was the man you chose. You did not see yourself falling for him but when he became attentive to you from the very beginning, it was inevitable. When you fell pregnant you immediately told Jace, not wanting his hopes to go up, he surprisingly understood.

Your eldest was born nine moons after with your uncle's white-blonde hair unlike yours and Jace's dark locks. You were terrified and to ease your mind Jace joked that your mother's gene finally one and shined through in your child. Your mother thought that was true, and she loved Daerion more than anything in the world. You and Jace made an agreement that whatever was happening between you and Aemond can resume if he gets to start an affair of his own with Sara Snow, you liked the bastard of the north she was a nice girl, you agreed whole heartedly wanting only the best for your brother.

A year later your daughter Saerra followed with the same white-blonde hair and her father's nose. your mother grew even more suspicious then especially when you asked for Aemond to hold the babe instead of Jace. When her brother held the girl so close she could finally see the resemblance. A gasp tore through her throat and her face hardened but then she noticed the way Jace hugged you and kissed your head, YOUR HEAD, not even bothering to kiss your lips in front of her.

She opened her eyes then and watched the way you three acted. She noticed the closeness between Jacaerys and the Snow girl. She noticed the way they usually took walks together in the garden while you were nowhere to be found. She noticed the way you and Jace never shared a room and sometimes moans could be heard from your rooms at the same time, you two were fucking other people.

Only recently came your second son, Aegor, brown hair like your and brown eyes like yours but he had Aemond's face. She had no doubt that when he grew up the only thing that will make her tell them apart would be their hair colour.

"Apologies for being late, Aegor was fussy" You lied as you slid down beside Jace on the couch. Your mother's eyes narrowed at you, she knew you were lying she was with her grandson only half an hour ago.

"Is he alright, sister?" Jace asked. He worried for his nephew, he was still family. That is what you loved about Jace, he was always attentive as well but in a brotherly way and not the Targrayen brotherly way.

"Oh yes brother, a little cold" You shrugged him off. You two were not even bothering to call each other pet names like couples do, no my love, no my husband/wife, no dear, nothing. Rhaenyra downed her wine knowing she had no right to judge or point out any of this having had bastards of her own.

"Shall we begin?" She hissed sitting down and crossing her arms. Daerion was turning five namedays soon and it was time to prepare for the celebrations.

"I wish this year for a quiet celebrations, I would be heavily pregnant during his birthday" You said. Your mother's eyes widened at your revelation. This time you and Jace did not even bother to stage a fake bedding for the servants she planted for you, she did not receive any news of you two visiting each other.

"Oh what a wonderful morning" Jace pulled you in for a hug. He was truly happy for you to have found love and had started a family. He loved having nephews and nieces, he can imagine them as his one since he could not have his own children. You eyes your mother who looked ready to burst, face red with anger and eyes wide while her hands were fisting her dress tightly, you smirked daring her to speak, daring her to reveal the truth that everyone knew.

#aemond imagine #aemond fluff #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys fic #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys x reader #rhaenyra x oc #rhaenyra imagine #house of the dragon #rhaenyra fanfiction #house targaryen #rhaenyra fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen

[two-white-butterflies]

As Lovers Often Do - c.6

Description: Alyssa Strong was born to be Aemond's wife. As the dance occurs, certain consequences are levied upon her.

"An eye for an eye. A son for a son."

series masterlist | part five

"For they could not love you But still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight." - Don McLean, Vincent.

(A YEAR BEFORE SER HARWIN STRONG'S DEATH)

When Alyssa was young, she could faintly remember playing with horses and dolls. Every night before she'd sleep, her lady-mother would enter her chambers and whisper love stories about knights and princesses. Alyssa believed that the knight was her father, and the princess her mother. In her eyes, her parents shared a meticulous bond - filled with respect and love.

"You missed your lessons," her father leaned on the door-frame. With wide shoulders and brown curls, Harwin Strong was everything dangerous. "I do not like my septa," Alyssa responded continuing to sew. "Just because you feel tired to do something, does not give you license to quit." Harwin responded in a deep tone.

He took another step forward, eyes softening at the presence of his only daughter. Her father has done bad things ... vile things that keep him awake at night, but Alyssa was different. Daegon was his heir, but Alyssa was only his - Alyssa was kind. Nothing like him.

"Septa Brown slanders House Targaryen - says that we're wanton and filled with lust." she gritted her teeth, oblivious to the rumors about her father and aunt. "She is wrong, is she not?" she tilted her head to look at her father's direction. At this point, Harwin was standing beside her sitting position.

He took a deep breath.

He loved Saera then, but not now.

"Even if she is, the Targaryens are above law. Why else would the gods give you right to claim dragons?" Harwin responded, placing a hand to his daughter's head, ruffling her braided hair. A small grunt escaped Alyssa's mouth. "Septa Brown was chosen by the King, tis' best to listen to her other teachings." Harwin added.

Alyssa looks at the warm fireplace.

"Septa Brown also says that Princess Rhaenyra's sons are bastards, that they were sired by you." her teeth burrowed into her lower lip.

Harwin's demeanor evidently changes.

"I will speak to the King," he whispered - and her eyebrows merged into each other.

When it came to slander about her mother's house - Harwin was incompetent seemingly tolerating the abuse. But when it came to Princess Rhaenyra? He seems to care more.

"Speak to the King, about?" Saera's voice echoed throughout the solars. "That Septa Brown has been spreading rumors about your nephew's paternity." Harwin reported and a sigh escapes her mother's mouth. "- she even told Alyssa about it. She's bold, and if we do not put a stop to it - she'll continue spreading rumors ... and what will happen then?" Harwin proceeded.

"She needs to stop, that I agree upon. But do not tell my father, instead - let me speak to Rhaenyra." Saera barred, not giving her husband another reason to speak to her sister.

"I apologize if I created a fight," Alyssa pricked her finger with a needle, she hides it by wiping it on the hems of the fabric. "All is well - you did not create a fight. You merely informed us of something that we ought to know about." Saera smiled, quickly sitting beside Alyssa.

She presses a soft kiss to Alyssa's forehead.

She turns her head towards Harwin, offering her hand. He takes it reluctantly, sitting beside his wife - giving his family a small embrace.

"One day, when I get married - I wish to have love as pure as yours." Alyssa professed, her mother held back a chuckle.

"In due time, you will have something much better." Saera pulled her daughter closer, whispering words in high Valyrian that none of them could understand.

"All is said?" Aemond stirred the tea, placing it in front of Alyssa. "Kepa agrees upon our marriage, he won't tell muña until we're ready." Alyssa informs, taking a slight sip.

He casts her a look - one of confusion and pain. King Viserys was willing to be his granddaughter's keeper, but not his other children's. He looks away, it was no use fighting against something that benefited him too. "- and when exactly will we become ready?" Alyssa adds with a raised eyebrow.

"When you're finished with your tour, and when my mentorship with Ser Criston ends.." Aemond places a hand on her shoulder. Inhaling her scent of lavender and pine. He couldn't help but thank the gods for giving her, in a world filled with betrayal and temptation - she was there, shining through the darkness.

He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Happiness was a mere arm's reach. "I can't believe that we are given the chance to be with each other," Alyssa licks her lips, feeling her heart pulse rapidly from inside her ribcage. Aemond, her uncle, her joy.

"- and when I am with you, all my worries disappear." she professed.

He presses their forehead together, feeling their hearts beat in unison. This is it ... her once in a lifetime. She's found a man who'd love her in ways that she deserves. She could die now. It wouldn't matter anyways, because she's already felt heaven.

Alyssa knelt on the pew, feeling the Mother's statue staring at her. Uncle Daemon built it shortly after her birth, an ode to the mother for keeping Saera safe. She looks to the side, feeling the firm stare of the Father - her family did not believe in these gods, but she did. Alyssa loved the Seven Gods.

She closes her eyes, the prayer exited her mouth like an exalted breath. First, she thanked them for giving her a blessed life. She apologized for all of her sins. Her mind then trailed off to her father. She sees him staring at her with his brown curls and domineering stature. Ser Harwin Strong, the Broken.

"Father?" she raises her voice in confusion, rising from her kneeling position, so that she'd be on his level. "Alyssa," he responded. A knowing twinkle in his eyes. "You cannot be real, this is not real?" she inquired, attempting to touch him but he moves a step back.

"You have grown so much, since we last met." he stared at her, from head to toe. It's been five whole years since they last saw each other. She could feel the longing radiate through her bones. All her life, she's always felt like something was missing - her cousins had their parents, but she missed her father.

She missed his voice, and the way that he'd guide her with tenderness. Alyssa was his joy, and Daegon was his pride. Alyssa...yes, Harwin's joy - she needed to count all the victories that she was granted. "- and you haven't changed a day." she whispered.

She feels the tears trail down her cheekbones. They came from the same vine, yet their features were apart as day and night. Mirrors of each other, staring at each other. "I wish I was still there." he admitted, sadness spilling from his tone. "I wasn't a good man, Alyssa. I hurt your mother, I hurt your brother ... I hurt you." he confesses, his voice raising and cracking.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I did something, the truth will come out in due time. I-I came here to warn you. You must fight against your fate. Do not be as reckless - always find strength in yourself. It will get better, I promise." he takes a step forward.

She opens her eyes, and suddenly her father was gone again. "Lady Alyssa?" Helaena shakes her awake. "W-what happened?" Alyssa holds her head, attempting to stabilize her vision. Princess Helaena freezes, as if she's just seen a ghost. "Look." she points at the mother's statue, and to both of their shock - a stray crow was standing atop the statue's head.

The stranger was here, and the stranger will come again.

taglist: @watercolorskyy @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @issybee06 @delaynew @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess @valeridarkness @batmans-love @ayamenimthiriel @apollonshootafar @sweethoneyblossom1 @mxtokko @cherrysoulth @yentroucnagol @bellstwd

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen smut #aemond tagaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd aemond #the one eyed prince #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen fic #cyip alyssa and aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond scenario #prince aemond #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond angst #aemond and alys #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #helaena targaryen #house of the dragon aemond

[ystrike1]

My Lover’s Personality Is a Little Strange - By 꿀끼 (7/10)

This one is for soap opera lovers ONLY! Mad kings are great. Dumb mad kings are harder to pull off. Our tragic, gorgeous, magical, special protagonist is about as compelling as a rock too. It makes this one a hard sell.

Yvonne is a gorgeous magical sword master who is also a bastard. Her father was obsessed with his beautiful first wife, who died. He slept with a barn hand, who gave birth to her. His only daughter, who he resented. Her father was eventually kicked out of the family for being an immature piece of shit at forty.

Yvonne's happy ending has already been planned. Her parents and siblings (who all hate her father and love her) are ready to make her Empress. She's not even a teenager yet, but her future is perfect!!!

The problem is she doesn't want to be Empress. Prince Ernst is a good friend, but he's like a little brother. An annoying kid brother. It's natural that she feels that way, because she had a hard childhood. She trained hard. She's a young blade master. Of course a spoiled prince bores her.

She falls for the smart and smooth Prince Theo quickly. He hides his identity to lure her in. He's an unwanted prince. Not a child of the current Empress like Ernst. He's also much stronger than Ernst and he has magic. The Empress has been spreading rumors about how vile he is, to push him away from the throne.

The Empress isn't a great woman, but Theo is a sociopath. A born killer who uses his magical power for torture.

Yvonne is in puppy love with him....and he feels the same way.

It's mutual! I'm sure they will kill the Empress together!

Yvonne is totally on his team. He resents the way Theo is treated. Why is he a monster, when he's only a boy...??? Boohoo...

She is so naive.

Timeskip.

Her life gets ALOT worse.

The imperial family decides to take her family down after Theo stupidly, IDIOTICALLY declares he will become Emperor in order to marry Yvonne.

The Imperial Ferdinand family shows no mercy. Yvonne watches her entire family die, and a curse is put on her. If she reveals her true name she will die, choking on her own blood. On top of that the Ferdinand family owns her. They use her as an apprentice Knight, because Benjamin wants her. Benjamin is a magical son of the Ferdinands, and he is also a yandere. He's not as dumb as Theo.

...but boy is he annoying. His introduction is lame and he's no fun.

Theo and Benjamin both lack spice.

Long story short Theo loses his memory after he impregnates Yvonne. He then proceeds to abuse her and play with the fiance his family set up for him. Apparently most of this AWFUL tale is about him kissing her butt and apologizing, but it's just not worth it. She's boring. He's dumb. Even the introduction of a second yandere couldn't save this.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome #My Lover’s Personality Is a Little Strange

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Reader x Young!Plutarch Heavensbee, Reader is the daughter of President Coriolanus Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cursing, family secrets, mentions of death/murder, paranoia, um think that's it

You're the youngest of the 3 Snow siblings. The children of President Coriolanus Snow, a man as cold and beautiful as his name, and First Lady Livia Snow nee Cardew, a shrewd woman whose golden looks hide her abhorrent nature. Like your older brothers, Kronos and Leonidas, you grew up spoiled with wealth and riches in the presidential palace.

But unlike you, your older brothers couldn't stand your parents. It was so bad that once they graduated from the Academy they had opted to move out. Of course your father got your brothers, first Kronos and then a couple of years later Leonidas, their own penthouses in the best buildings that money could buy.

Only the best for the sons of President Snow.

If only Kronos and Leonidas lived up to the expectations of the Snow name.

Yea… Your brothers were both disappointments to your cold, stoic, stern, and calculating father. He felt that they're foolish, selfish, little bastards. Reincarnates of your mother. And talk about your mother, well, she felt that your brothers lacked social charm and grace- what was needed to succeed in the Capitol's games of politics.

You on the other hand was the apple of your father's eye. He viewed you as the one and only good thing to come out of his horrible, hate filled marriage with your mother.

It was no secret to you and your siblings that your parents couldn't stand each other. The only time President Snow and his First Lady are seen together is at events and galas. Other then that they're never together.

Not even at meals.

No, there's no such thing as family dinners in the presidential palace. Your mother eats by herself in her solar while your father eats in either his study, the large dining room, or the sunroom. More times than naught he's taking his meals in the sunroom.

You split your meals between them. Alternating who you eat with. But, since you're a total daddy's girl, you share more meals with your father than your mother. Which delites Coriolanus and pisses off Livia.

Coriolanus doesn't give a shit if Livia gets pissed. He's loathed her since the day he said I do. Livia disliked him, but didn't straight up hate him until a few months into the marriage. But being compared to his dear little dove; his heart's true desire, day in and day out, will make a wife despise her husband.

Truthfully, the only reason you and your older brothers were born was because your father needed heirs to carry on the mighty Snow name. Your mother had to pop some valiums and xanaxes to handle your father's dominant nature in bed. Hell, around the time your brother Leonidas was conceived your mother had taken a secret lover in the afternoons while your father was having power lunches at a high end gentlemen’s club, so who knows who your brother's daddy really is.

But, despite their horrible marriage, at least your parents love you.

Well, Coriolanus loves you, but truthfully it's up in the air when it comes to Livia. She's been hurt so badly by your father's callous words and actions that the poor thing is a shell of a woman that knows how to say lovely things, but is mostly just all about appearances.

And appearances is what prompts her to bring up a potential match with you and Seneca Crane despite the fact that you already have a boyfriend.

One Plutarch Heavensbee.

“But, mother, I've been seeing Plutarch since last year. Why would I dump him for Seneca Crane?” You asked, sipping on your breakfast tea while your mother nursed a bloody Mary.

Despite it being 7 in the morning, Livia's face was caked in 5 pounds of makeup. Makeup that covered up the bruises your father's hands left when he repeatedly smacked your mother around last night when she requested him not to see his beloved little dove because she knew that he'd be paying her a visit today.

But that didn't pertain to you.

“Because, Y/N, Senaca’s the heir to the Crane assets and hotel line in District 10, which is a very popular and prosperous vacation destination due to the Dude Ranch craze.” Your mother told you, putting her glass down only to pick up her smoking case. Opening it and pulling out a cigarillo, she said, “You'll be graduating from the Academy soon; it's time that you secure yourself a husband that's worthy of being a part of the First family.”

“I need to go have breakfast with dad, but thanks for the morning tea, mother.” You told your mother, setting down your teacup while she lit up her cigarillo.

While you rose from the table, your mother took a long drag of her smoke and told you in a tart tone, “He's your father, Y/N. I don't know why he lets you call him dad, but he shouldn't.”

You didn't say a word, just left your mother's private solar to go have breakfast with your father in the sunroom.

“Morning darling.” Your father greeted you with a smile while peeling the shell off his hard boiled egg. He looked perfectly regal, not a platinum hair out of place or a wrinkle in his crimson three piece suit.

As you made your way to your seat at the table, the President complimented you with, “Why, don't you look beautiful? I bet Plutarch’s going to be speechless when he comes to pick you up for school.”

“Dad, I'm wearing the same Academy uniform I do every day.” You shook your head, deflecting his comment.

“But you've done something different with your hair. That boy of yours is sure to notice that, darling.” You father said while fixing you a cup of coffee.

“I don't think it matters, dad. Mother wants me to end things with Plutarch.” You sighed as the president placed your cup of coffee in front of you.

Going back to his hard boiled egg, your father asked, “Why?”

“She wants to match me up with Seneca Crane; she thinks it'd be beneficial to my future to arrange an engagement between Seneca and I because he's the heir to the Crane hotel empire in 10.” You explained while grabbing a few things from the platters set up on the table and putting them on the white china plate that was laid out for you at your place setting.

“Do you want to end things with Plutarch for Seneca?” You dad asked in between eating a bite of his hard boiled egg.

“No, but mother-” You began, only for the president to hold his hand up and silence you with, “You stay with Plutarch and let me deal with your mother.” Reaching for his cup of coffee, your dad gave you the advice of, “Y/N, I know that you care about your mother and want to see the best in her, but you shouldn't. In fact, you need to keep her at arm's length; she can't be trusted.” sipping on his coffee, he sighed, “I’d hate to see you get hurt; I don't trust Livia not to hurt you.”

You gave your dad an incredulous look. Did he really think that your mother would intentionally hurt you? Why, what would she gain from it? You're her only daughter, she'd never hurt you. The thought alone is absurd.

Right now, you think your regal platinum father's a bit paranoid.

But unknown to you, he has reason to be. Everyone has a past and he never lets a piece of his lie. Once a week like clockwork he visits a part of his past with a bouquet of roses. That fact drives your mother up the wall mad. But the president believes that your mother crossed a line, one that was costly to him in the past.

So, your dad has valid reason to believe that your mother would hurt you, whether that be emotionally, physically, or mentally, to further her agenda and to cut him down.

When President Coriolanus Snow was a young man, serving as the Head Gamemaker and running for a Senate seat, he underestimated Livia Cardew's shrewd hatefulness and cunning ways. She didn't come across as somebody to blatantly destroy somebody who she felt got in her way or was a threat to what she wanted: money, power, glory, but she was.

President Coriolanus Snow is older, wiser, and even more paranoid than he was in his youth. These characteristics are the reason why he'll be in office until the day he dies from complications of his alchemy hobby. And he'll be damned if anything or anyone, especially your mother, hurts you while he's still alive and breathing.

After breakfast, you went upstairs to your room while your father went to talk to your mother. Since your mother's solar wasn't far from your room, you walked upstairs with your dad until you had to part ways.

After putting on your pristine white coat and double checking your hairbow in your mirror, you left your room. While passing your mother's solar, you heard the raised voices of your parents echoing from the other side of the door. You should've just walked away, but curiosity got the better of you and you decided to press your ear against the door to listen to what your parents were fighting about.

You hope that they weren't fighting over your relationship with Plutarch.

But, sadly, they are.

“Of course you support Y/N’s relationship with that spaz Plutarch. Considering your own past with your former campaign manager, I'm not surprised that you're encouraging our daughter to sow wild oats.”

“Do not bring Juniper up to me, Livia.” President Snow ordered in a loud roar. “You did it last night and got your face rearranged; you wouldn't want a reason to have to get another nose job, now would you.” President Snow threatened his wife, only to snap, “You stay away from my daughter. I won't let you hurt her.”

“You really think that I'd stoop so low as to hurt our daughter, Coriolanus?” Livia asked, her raspy smoker’s voice full of disbelief.

“I underestimated you 25 years ago when I ended our first engagement and it cost me dearly; I won't underestimate you ever again, wife. And I'll do everything in my power to protect Y/N from you.” The President answered, his baritone loud, but tight. As if he was trying to control his emotions. Emotions that were already filled with rage.

“You're so overprotective of her, but you don't give a shit about our sons! Why, Coriolanus? Why is that?”

“Y/N’s the one good thing to come out of this hateful farce of a marriage, but those boys are your sons through and through. Hateful, greedy, little demons- just like you.”

Livia Cardew tilted her head at her husband, only to twist her lips up in a sneer. “I hope you cut your damn fingers off while pruning those ugly white roses for a bouquet to bring your beloved Juniper.”

“You fucking bitch, I told you not to say her name in front of me.” The President roared, only to launch himself and his wife and backhand her so hard that she flew to the ground.

Hearing a loud thud inside of the room, you decided to back away from the door and rush downstairs. Plutarch should be arriving soon. And only God knows that you need to tell him about everything you overheard your parents fighting about.

As soon as you were in Plutarch's car, you unloaded on him. Plutarch, being a devoted boyfriend, listened to every word that you said. And when you were done, he simply asked, “Do you want to spy on your dad? See where he goes today?”

“Yea, but we can't. We have classes.” You told your boyfriend as he turned down a road that was in the opposite direction of the way to the Academy.

“I know a guy from 3 that can hack the school attendance records; have us marked as attending classes today.” Plutarch told you while grabbing his phone from his dash.

“How do you know somebody from 3?” You asked, a bit bewildered that your boyfriend has friends outside of the Capitol.

“Met him while on that student exchange trip to 3 to learn some tech stuff last year.”

“Oh.” You simply nodded. “I went to 2, stayed with the Plinths.”

“Of course your dad sent you there, he owns Plinth Munitions and is close to the Plinths.” Plutarch muttered under his breath.

Honestly, Plutarch couldn't stand your father. He thought that President Coriolanus Snow had a few screws loose. But, he pretended to like your dad for your sake.

“I can send my contact a quick text telling him to hack our attendance records, then double back to your place and park behind a bush so we can spy on your dad; see where he goes today.” Plutarch offered while pulling into the drive thru of a high end coffee shop.

“Okay.” You simply nodded.

It feels like you and Plutarch have been hiding out in his car, behind large shrubbery near the gate of the Presidential Palace’s driveway whenever it opens and your father's sleek black sedan rolls thru the gates.

“Plutarch, he's by himself.” You pointed out to your boyfriend, who’s waiting for your father to get far enough so that you won’t be caught following him.

“Wonder why. The President doesn't seem like someone to drive himself around.” Plutarch remarked while pulling away from the shrubbery and following the path your father did.

“I know, but maybe he doesn't want Bentley to know about his mistress.”

“Drivers don't care about whether or not their clients have mistresses, princess.” Plutarch told you while making the same turn he saw your father make. “He's driving himself for another reason.”

“Don't lose him, Pluto!” You ordered in a loud shriek, pointing at your dad’s car as it weaved in and out of traffic up ahead.

“Your dad drives worse than a blind 80 year old grandma from District 4. How the hell did he get a license?” Plutarch asked while doing some risky driving maneuvers in order to keep tailing the president.

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “Just don't lose him. I'm curious to know why my mother seems so jealous of this Juniper lady and why my dad flips his shit when my mother says her name.”

“Do you know anything about her?” Plutarch asked, watching your father cut somebody off before taking a turn.

“No.” You shook your head. “Just that she used to be my dad's campaign manager and that my parents were engaged twice.”

“Hmm…interesting…” Your strawberry blonde boyfriend hummed while turning down the road your father did.

After a few more minutes of driving, you ended up following your father to, of all places, the graveyard. “Are you sure he's meeting his girlfriend, Y/N?"

“That's what my mother said.” You told Plutarch, watching your father as he trudged along the graveyard until he reached the Snow Family mausoleum- which was a large building with roses crawling up and down it- in the back of the graveyard.

“Do you want to follow him? See if he's meeting her inside?” Plutarch asked, putting his car in park.

“Yea.” You nodded.

Since Plutarch parked far enough away from your father's car, you weren't afraid of getting caught. You and Plutarch carefully made your way to the Snow Family mausoleum. Not wanting to be caught, Plutarch has the two of you pressed against the back wall of the large building. There's a small stained glass window that you can peek into, if you want to.

You and Plutarch were expecting the President to meet with his secret lover inside of the building, but that's not what you saw when you looked into that stained glass window. To your shock, your father was removing old, dried up and withered white roses from the brass flower holder on one of the wall grave markers.

“I brought you and the little one fresh flowers, my darling rose.” You heard your father say as he placed the bouquet of fresh roses he brought into the brass vase welded onto the grave marker. “I wish you were here. It's been 25 years and I still miss you.”

You and Plutarch looked at each other wide-eyed. He wasn't meeting his mistress, the President was bringing fresh flowers to somebody he loved and had lost. But he said little one. Who's that?

“Livia wants to ruin my daughter's life. Thinks she needs to dump Plutarch and get into an arrangement with Seneca Crane. But I won't allow it.”

“I never liked your mother. Stupid drunk whore.” Plutarch whispered in your ear.

“Be nice.” You whispered, lightly smacking your boyfriend.

“I won't let that evil bitch ruin my daughter's life. She ruined mine by having you killed. And I know she was behind it, even if I can't prove it. Damnit, it was an Avox in her brother's employ that shot you, but it seems like the Peacekeepers just shoved it under the rug. Even your own brother didn't want a long investigation.”

You and Plutarch shared another wide-eyed look. Oh boy…If your father truly felt that the Cardews (your mother's family) had paid off the Peacekeepers to keep the truth of the shooting (a murder?) of his lover under wraps then no wonder he was afraid for your safety when you're around your mother.

“I wish I could stay longer, but I've got presidential duties to get back to. I'll visit you and our little one again. Same day, same time.” The President said before exiting the mausoleum.

Once he was gone, Plutarch turned to you and asked, “Do you want to go inside? See who still has such a strong hold on your father after all these years?”

“Yea.” You nodded.

After making sure the coast was clear, you and Plutarch entered the Snow Family mausoleum. It wasn't hard to spot the section with the fresh white roses. You and your boyfriend walked over to it, only to read a plaque on the wall.

Juniper Marie Halvir & Unborn Baby Snow

Death: July 1st 15ADD

“I think maybe you should take your dad's advice and keep your distance from your mother.” Plutarch told you while rushing you out of the mausoleum.

You just nodded. Your head's spinning at the secret you found out. The President’s secret that he's kept hidden for so long. No wonder he's the way he is. And now you can understand why your parents are always at each other's throats.

Now you understand why your dad's so protective of you; doesn’t like you around your mother too much.

In a way, you wish that you never uncovered your father's past. It would've kept you naive to your mother's true nature. But maybe you needed to know.

“Do you think that's why he's so cold? You know, losing them?”

“It most likely is.” Plutarch told you while leading you over to his car. “I've seen a picture of Juniper with the President in my dad's old Academy yearbook. They seemed to be close friends, sweethearts even.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore, Pluto. Can we just go get ice cream or something?”

“Anything for you, princess.” Plutarch smiled as you reached his car.

There's a reason why your Uncle Livinius Cardew died before you were ever born. Why your grandparents died before you were born too. Your father got revenge on the Cardews after marrying your mother, Livia. He poisoned them; made it look like food poisoning. He made sure that he killed the Cardews and took over their bank, all because they took the most precious thing in the world away from him.

The only reason he kept your mother alive was because he needed heirs. But now, well, he's highly considering having your mother drop dead from a bad case of food poisoning. He needs to plan it perfectly, so maybe he'll do it during a dinner that your mother has to attend with him. One of those should be coming up soon.

Or he could just poison her and make it look like a suicide.

Either way, you'll be burying your mother before the games and before your graduation from the Academy.

But your dad, President Coriolanus Snow, just wants what's best for you. He has to protect you from your mother, so you don't get hurt. The only way to do that is to permanently get rid of her. You're grown now, so Livia's has outgrown her usefulness to President Snow.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #president coriolanus snow #plutarch heavensbee #young!plutarch heavensbee #coryo snow #thg fanfiction #thg x reader #tbosas fic

[duckwithablog]

Hello there!! Can i headcanons for Red son, Nezha, Sun Wukong and Macaque with their fem s/o who is acting like a house wife + she's good taking care or babysit children

Hello!! Hope you like this one!!

Red Son, Nezha, Wukong and Macaque x fem! housewife! reader

Red Son

I don't think he realizes what you're doing, at first. Like, he'd try to insist that you leave all the cleaning and cooking to the bull clones

They keep saying "You are the lover of the Prince of the Demon Bull King family, which makes you the Princess! Please, dear, leave the cleaning and such to the bots."

If you keep insisting though, he'll give in and let you what you want. He actually tries to help you out with some chores! You guys both wash the dishes and cook meals together :]

Firmly believes that she shouldn't just let you do all the hard work by yourself. You're his beloved! If you want to become their housewife, then he will become your househusband. That's how a relationship is supposed to work, right? Both parties have to do their own share of work!

So now you got a Malewife Red Son. Congrats!!

Sometimes he sees you babysit some kids and even babying some of the bull clones they made, and she has to calm himself down before their hair torches the ceiling

Red Son is sort of a romantic, and daydreams sometimes on what having a family with you is like... So seeing you be so gentle with children fuels those fantasies a whole lot

Be prepared for a marriage proposal in the near future!!

Nezha

Nezha is literally the God of Children. So if he ever sees you being so gentle with kids, he'll be so touched before joining you

Nezha never really thought about marriage or having kids of his own, so whenever he sees you act all motherly with children or acting like a housewife his face gets red

Accidentally referred to you as his wife once and got so embarrassed afterwards. Please don't bring it up he'll literally collapse /j

Has actually thought of doing those traditional chinese marriages with you if you guys ever do get married. He brings up the topic of marriage once to gouge out your reaction so he can see how you feel about it

Nezha starts to warm up to the concept of you being a housewife after a while, but that doesn't mean he'll leave all the work to you!

There's not much to do living with him anyway. He already cleans his own things and makes his own meals, so at best you only make food whenever he's tired and clean stuff he forgot to clean

Wukong

Oh, he loves it. He loves the fact that you act like his housewife so much, that bastard

He can't cook for shit, so you often make meals for him. He tries to help you out, but I think it's best if he just stays as a cooking assistant for now-

I don't think he eats anything other than peaches in his mountain, so make sure to give him a variety of food in his meals! He would be so grateful. He'd literally eat anything you make and say that it tastes better than the peaches of immortality

Wukong is also very messy. Please tell him to pick up after himself or else you're gonna be cleaning so much stuff

Believe it or not, your housewife actions actually influence him a bit! He gets you a bunch of ingredients from over the world, even mythical ones! Fully encourages your cooking and cleaning habits by gifting you things like that

The baby monkeys love you so much. So much that he told you he thinks they love you more than they love him

He doesn't mind, he agrees with them to be honest lmao

I don't think he cares much for starting a family/getting married, since you guys practically act married already! But if you want things to get official, then he'll gladly oblige

Macaque

Isn't used to people taking care of him. Whenever he wakes up to you cooking a meal just for him and cleaning up the dojo, he gets so touched that he doesn't know what to say

Mac really likes it when you act like a housewife. He loves the domestic vibes he gets when he sees you cook or clean early in the morning. Living a peaceful and loving life with you is like, his biggest dream

He wants to pay you back for all your hard work, somehow. Says a whole lot of 'thank you's and 'Aw, for me?'s, but internally he's racking his brain for any possible way to give you the same amount of love you give him

You tell him it isn't necessary, but he just really wants to show you how much he loves you! So he gives you little gifts, like an apron or some suggesting some food recipes you guys could make together

Isn't that big of a family guy, I think. He knows you babysit kids, but he stays out of the way most of the time because he thinks he might scare them. That all changes once the Hostess comes over and you guys immediately bond

It's only after hanging out with you and the hostess is that he realizes how much he'd love having a life of quiet with you. Just you and him, maybe some kids, living peacefully in a house somewhere. He brings it up to you someday, to see what you think about it, before agreeing on something

He's engaged now :]] Mac is doing mental fist pumps whenever he sees you with the ring on your finger

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Hope this was good!! I actually like the way I characterized Red Son here. Nezha's was pretty short, but that's mostly because I don't know his character all that well. This was super fun to write!

#lmk x reader #lmk red son x reader #lmk x y/n #red son x reader #nezha x reader #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #lmk nezha x reader #lmk wukong x reader #lmk macaque x reader #lego monkie kid red son x reader #lego monkie kid sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid nezha x reader #lego monkie kid macaque x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #fem reader #duckiswriting