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#throne room shenanigans
tatooineknights · 1 year
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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months
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Wanted to see if Larian had programmed the game so that Lathander would smite me if I tried this - Or if Astarion would get annoyed.
Apparently not. Cyric in a blonde wig answering Lathander's phone strikes again.
I think I'll fuck with everyone's classes for my next playthrough, without altering their stats. Gale's either going to be a fighter or a barbarian, and Karlach can have his spellbook...
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bluerosefox · 9 days
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It's shenanigans time guys
So have this DpxDc idea.
So, the Justice League and the Light (OR villains in general) have two newish members, they've both been around for about a year and they're from the same plane of existence (a place called the Infinite Realms according to those who dabble in the occult)
And the two seem to have some serious beef with each other.
Wisp and Wrath are basicly feral cats hissing and hekles raised when they spot the other and their fights normally ends in draws. They're evenly matched and sometimes the two even fight to the point they are out of steam and just fist fight.
Needless to say everyone believes they totally hate each other and might one day kill (or end?) One of them.
So everything gets turned upside down when suddenly both factions of heros and villains are suddenly summoned to the Infinite Realms.
In a throne room.
In front of the Infinite King (or most commonly known as the Ghost King)
A King who looks very, very much like Wisp and Wrath (like yeah the two do sometimes look alike, like when they grin with sharp teeth and their hair color, but one has blue skin and red eyes for crying out loud!)
He's staring at them, glowing green eyes that seemed to just... know.
"Welcome to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." His voice echoing in the throne room and seemed to rattle them deeply, like a sudden chill in the early morning.
"I have summoned you all here for a single reason." He continued to say "Tell me..."
Here he paused, closed his eyes before leaning back on the chair then he smiled big and cheerfully asked.
"How are my kids doing in your world? Dan and Ellie arent causing too much chaos in their wake are they? They tend to go a tiny bit overboard sometimes but what siblings don't when they rough house you know. Tell me everything."
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spacedace · 1 year
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It’s been a busy day for Elle by the time she rounds the corner and sees the unattended Batmobile parked in the alley she usually cuts through to go home. But not so busy that she’s willing to ignore the prime opportunity that she’s just stumbled upon.
Bats in the Bowery is always something that gets people’s heckles up - this is Hood’s turf and the people that live there are just as territorial over that as their violent vigilante. Batman himself being in the Bowery might as well be a declaration of war. Sure, when the heavy hitters are out causing shit things are a bit more flexible, but even then the Bats are there with Red Hood. Obviously and clearly tolerated for the time being.
Elle would put good money on Hood not being in the loop that the big Bat himself is currently parked three blocks away from Crime Alley. Which means that the Batmobile, tucked away in the shadows and entirely unattended, is free game.
Fuck it, she decides. 
Jay had asked her and Danny about what kind of rings Jazz likes. He’s on all their emergency contact lists, and he’s offered to officially adopt her and Danny to lighten Jazz’s load a little. He’s put in the time to figure out how to incorporate ectoplasm into his amazing home cooked meals in such a way that it doesn’t cause the food to come back to life just so they can have something tasty and nutritious. 
He’s family.
Which means it’s only right that she honors his place as family, by following in his footsteps.
Even without any of the proper equipment for the job, it’s a lot easier for her to remove the tires than it had been for her soon-to-be brother-in-law all those years ago. All it takes is five minutes, some intangibility and some increased strength and she has a pile of tires wider than her body stacked up behind her. She doesn’t even get any grease on her in the process. It takes more effort to find a pencil in her blackhole of a backpack to write the note she leaves behind tucked under one of the windshield wipers.
Getting the tires home is another story but she eventually manages to scrounge up enough blob ghosts to help her haul them back with her unseen. The little dudes like a little mischief - and like Hood even more - and they need the exercise. She’s not sure exactly what she’s going to do with the tires when she gets home though. One is definitely going to Jay as a present, maybe she could get Skulker to help her mount it on a plaque like one of his hunting trophies? Other than that though, they’re largely just going to take up space in the apartment.
Bill would probably know a guy. Hell, Bill may even want in on the trophy idea as a gift for Hood, he’d been saying that the anniversary of the crime lord taking out Black Mask was coming up. Maybe she could get the goon to help her get the last two tires to a couple of the more fun rogues as gifts? Harley for sure would get a laugh out of it. Ivy would probably be upset over the ecological impact of the creation of the tire, but maybe she could sell the last one to Penguin?
-
Tim blinks at the stack of - very familiar - tires taking up the corner of the Nightingales’ living room. Elle has them arranged in an approximation of a throne with a couple of pillows set down so she can sit more comfortably as she lounges. She barely even glances up at them as Danny leads them inside, slurping at a bright green smoothie as she taps away on her phone.
Danny looks as thrown by the tableau as Tim is. It’s nice to see that Danny isn’t as totally immune to Elle’s shenanigans as he pretends. Though, it’s also mildly terrifying to consider his boyfriend’s little sister is capable of chaos that not even Danny “Danger Twink” Nightingale can come up with.
“Uh…what you got there, Elle?”
Elle, pointedly, takes a long, loud slurp from her smooth as she looks up to meet her brother’s gaze. “New family tradition.” She says, unblinking.
Danny stands there for a long moment before giving a final shrug. “Yeah, sure. Jay will get a kick out of it.”
Tim pulls his phone out and snaps some pictures. Danny is right, of course, Jason is going to love it. But so will everyone else in the group chat.
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Pazavorve
Synopsis: Despite the love you hold for your husband your love for your mother will always triumph. Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader
Warnings: General HoTD shenanigans such as sexual themes, incest, vulgar language, and the sort so please if any such things make you uncomfortable or if you're underage do not engage with this post or I will feed you to my dragon!
1,527 words
A/N: Just in an angsty sort of mood babes.
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Your furious voice echoed from the walls of your and Aemond’s chamber as your bloody fists continuously beat against the solid wood of the door. Since the news of Aegon’s coronation had spread throughout the Red Keep like dragonfire you had been confined as a prisoner in a room that had once brought you nothing but a sense of love and belonging. Your confrontation with your husband and the Queen Regent had them concerned that you would send word to Dragonstone to inform your mother of the impending usurpation of the Iron Throne.
The hushed voice permeating through the thick wood had you hurrying across the room till you were close enough to snatch the weighted candlestick from the small table where it usually served as a source of light for when you and Aemond would lay intertwined upon the chaise while he read to you. Now though it was nothing more than a weapon as you wielded it just as your uncle did Dark Sister. As the door swung open you launched the candlestick at the vibrant head of silver hair that appeared missing by mere inches purely from the quick reaction of your husband as he ducked.
Straightening back up Aemond closed the door before daring to face your wrathful glare that was so foreign to the look you usually reserved for him, “Ñuha Zaldrīzes.” His long legs carried him in your direction causing you to slowly back away till he conceded to stand still, “Is that any way to greet your husband?” (My Dragon)
A loud scoff ripped from your lips as you shook your head at him in disbelief, “You plot to usurp my mother Valzȳrys,” Your voice was sharp and laced with venom as you spat the once affectionate name as though an insult, “You should find yourself glad to still have your cock attached to your body!” (Husband)
He had lunged forward before you had a chance to react, now in his grasp two strong arms wrestled your writhing body to his in a near painful grip till you were against his chest, “It was my father’s desire that Aegon take his rightful place upon the Iron Throne and rule as King of The Seven Kingdoms.”
“And who told you such things Aemond?” You tilted your head to keep eye contact with him your fury seeping through every word you spat, “It was your mother who has wanted nothing more than to see her son be on the Iron Throne. It is her who spreads such vile lies to those on the Small Council.” You voice was loud and hostile yelling at his impassive face as you fought yourself free from his hold, “My mother was named as heir by Grandsire himself, do you not think if he had once in the many years he lived desired for that drunken fool to be his successor that he would not have spoken it to someone other than your mother?”
“Aegon is to be our King,” Despite your anger Aemond’s voice remained soft his rough hands coming to settle upon your flushed cheeks, “I do not wish for him to be King, nor do I think it a wise choice. But that is the choice that has been made Ñuha Zaldrīzes.” As his thumbs swept at the skin of your pointed cheekbones, he leant down pressing a chaste kiss to your pouted lips, “And it is a choice which we must accept.” (My Dragon)
Resting your forehead against the coolness of his leather tunic you brought your hands up to cover his, “I will not accept him over my mother as heir, she is to be our Queen. I refuse to bend the knee to Aegon or any other.”
Moving to settle his head upon yours Aemond’s breathing disrupted you loose hair as he spoke, “What you speak is treason.” His voice was quiet as though the words being spoken aloud made them true, “I refuse to let this loyalty you hold towards Rhaenyra get you killed.”
Pulling back so that you could see that shade of violet you adored so much you cupped his cheeks relishing in the feeling of his leather eye patch under your palm, “Ñuha Jorrāelagon, I will throw myself from the tallest tower before bending the knee to that usurper cunt of a King.” (My Love)
Aemond’s eye grew wide in shock as he gripped your arms almost desperately, “You would leave me here alone?” Despite the hardness of his voice you could hear the utter heartbreak behind his words, “Since we were mere babes it has always been you and I.”
Your vision blurred as tears now began to trickle down your cheeks, “Before there was us there was my mother and I.” With what little strength you had left you removed your hands from his face before stepping out of his now limp hold, “I shan’t betray her Aemond, not even for you.”
Turning in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you his arms once more encircled you tugging you till your back was flush with his front, “I will burn cities to the ground before I let anyone take you from me.” His voice was now cold and full of rage as he whispered into your ear, “That includes even you, Ñuha Zaldrīzes. I pray that one day you find it in your heart to forgive me.” (My Dragon)
Without a further word he was gone the only sound signifying his departure being the loud slamming of your chamber door as you collapsed to your knees on the hard stone floor below your anguished sobs echoing throughout the Keep till not even ten minutes since your husband left did the door opened to reveal a bloodied Ser Erryk.
Gazing up at him curiously he crouched in front of you wrapping a tattered cloak around your shaking shoulders and fastening it, “Come Princess, we must get you to your mother.” He helped heave you from your place on the floor before holding a gloved hand in your direction.
Hesitantly accepting his offered hand, you stumbled behind him and over the two dead guards that had once stood at your door. Keeping a tight hold onto him he led you through a series of halls and hidden passageway until eventually the two of you were out of the Red Keep, “We must go to the dragon pit immediately.” You pulled him to a standstill your breathing ragged as you stared up at him resolutely, “I will not leave this wretched place without Nightfyre.”
Glancing over your shoulder anxiously he shook his head once again pulling on your joined hands, “There is no time Princess, they are bound to have found the bodies.” As though summoned the bells of the Red Keep began to call out, “We must leave at once.”
Planting your feet into the ground stubbornly you refused to move until he turned back to face you, “He is a part of me Ser Erryk, I shall go to him alone if I must but I will not leave this place without him by my side.”
Sighing in defeat he nodded eyes darting around your surroundings as the two of you hurried through the bustling streets towards the dragon pit, “Go find him and meet me back here.” Nodding you ran past the dragon keepers that Erryk kept at bay and darted deeper to where you knew Nightfyre would be.
A relieved breath escaped you once you caught sight of the large dark beast already stalking towards the main area having sensed your distress before you arrived. Once he was within reach you were hurrying to mount him with practised ease heading towards the large opening of the entry where Erryk clumsily clambered onto his back.
“Keligon!” The colour drained from your face as your husband appeared at the steps of the dragon pit accompanied by Ser Criston and other members of the Kings Guard, “Kesan daor ivestragī ao dakogon hen nyke Ābrazȳrys!” His voice held more anger than you had ever heard from him before his lone eye ablaze with uncontained rage at the very prospect of losing you. (Stop! I will not let you run from me Wife)
“Iksan vaoreznuni Ñuha Jorrāelagon.” Your voice was broken as you cried down to the man who owned your heart and soul, but this was for your mother, the woman who had loved and raised you and it didn’t matter how dearly you loved Aemond for you would always love her more, “Gaoman daor sytilībagon kesīr lēda ao sir. Sōvegon  Nightfyre.” (I am sorry My Love. I do not belong here with you now. Fly Nightfyre)
With a great beat of his onyx wings, Nightfyre leapt into the air the cold wind burning against the tears falling upon your face. The last sight you saw was Aemond screaming your name as he fought against Ser Criston and the guards in his attempts to reach Vhagar and fly after you. With a final sob you wiped the wetness from your cheeks as you and Ser Erryk made your way across the sea to Dragonstone.
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adorabluesposts · 23 days
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Lucifer X Alastor's daughter PART 2
part 1 can be found in my acc. reblogs + comments are the most appreciated.
decided to change up my writing style a bit..
Not proof-read, might have grammatical errors. Either way, enjoy!
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He kept visiting. Lucifer kept coming to the hotel, and it was screwing you up.
•He was amazing. Sugarcoating your relationship, treating you like the fine lady you are, appreciating the little things you do for him.
•Every time Alastor was around, he'd get more touchy; he'd kiss your hand, hug you.. He'd thank you and give you gifts, share his food with you.. call you his best friend.
Alastor was beyond furious. He kept telling you there would be a chance you wouldn't be coming to the hotel anymore, which always became a massive argument.
and, truth is, Alastor hated fighting with you.
The others noticed something was happening, too. The glares between the two men, the way Luci was always clingy with you.
It drove you MAD. Because the feelings that Lucifer brought in you were imaginable - he made you feel things no one has ever done. Every lie he ever told you, every pretend love-tiuch he gave you felt like Heaven and made your stomach twirl around with butterflies.
At first, Lucifer just wanted something to drive Alastor mad. He hated that man's guts with his entire heart. He made his daughter a challenge, why shouldn't he make Alastor's child one too?
But then, seeing how you reacted to his game, he felt bad. He felt guilty, a certain pity towards you.
He felt like a horrible man, for making you go through this rollercoaster. And yet, the glare Alastor gave him was like a trophy.
Lucifer kept going to the act, making himself closer to you. He started enjoying your presence not long after- the way you always out a smile on his face, the way your compliments made him feel, the triumph he felt when you blushed at his words.
He knew you knew he was just playing with you. And it confused him why you still stayed.
Why didn't you go? Why didn't you leave him? Now that he fell for you, it would be better to leave. Hurt him like he hurt you. Play him like he played you.
Oh, how silly his thoughts were.
He fell in love with the way your hair fell, the way your eyes stared at him, your smile and your blushing cheeks, your hands and your body, the way you laughed, your jokes and compliments, your incredible sense of humour, your outfits, your skills and hobbies, your clingy nature.. he was head over heels for you.
You weren't Eve, and you certainly weren't Lilith. You were more than that.
You beat him at his own game.
And yet, Alastor kept you as close to him as he could. It was terrifying, really, how demonic that man could turn when it came to you. It wasn't the typical radio demon shenanigans- he was worse than that.
Lucifer was sure that if something happened to you Alastor would turn Hell upside down. Maybe even take his throne.
*-*
Seeing you all dolled up to go out with Angel one night made Lucifer's heart sting.
You two locked eyes, and when you smiled, his whole heart shattered into hundreds of pieces, cutting him as he walked over to you.
Alastor followed closely behind, mocking Vaggie as he kept an eye on you and Luci. Lucifer kept that in mind as he kissed your gloves hand. You blushed.
"You look amazing tonight, love." The both of you could hear Angel giggling next to you.
You smiled as he let go of your hand . Loud static was heard. "And you look as handsome as always, even though you don't try."
It was his turn to blush. He grinned like a puppy seeing his owner after a long day of work.
He took a deep breath. Truth is, he locked himself in a room for hours to prepare himself for this moment. "Uh.. we, we should talk, Y/N." Lucifer spoke, now quieter. Loud static.
"What's wrong, Luci?" You asked and tilted your head ever so slightly to the side.
"just the two of us." He took your hand. Angel smirked at you, giving you a look that said 'I will keep an eye on this one' while pointing towards your dad.
You took a few shaky breaths as you reached a balcony and Lucifer let go of your hand. "You.. well, you know this already."
"Know what?"
"that I used you. To get to your dad. You.. you know that." Lucifer was clearly ashamed.
You looked at him, your eyes stinging with tears. Until then, you tried to convince yourself it wasn't real, that it was just something you came up with. But it was. It was so real. The man you fell for didn't like you.
He just used you.
"Yeah, I know." You let out.
"I regretted my desicion the second I got to know you."
That doesn't change anything.
"I fell in love with you, Y/N." His eyes were also watery. "The way you talk with me, the way we laugh, the way you awkwardly smile when you don't get a joke, the homemade cookies you bake., everything that you do, I love every thing about you."
You sighed and tried to smile.
"Were deep in this. I used you and it's horrible. And I know you've liked me from the start." Lucifer took both of your hands. "I was a loser, a selfish prick. But I can't lose you too, Y/N.."
"You're selfish right now."
"I.. I know."
"I like it."
"What?" His eyes widened and he let out a chuckle.
"I.. it's true you've hurt me. You are hurting me. This.. this hurts." You confess. "But telling you 'no' and refusing your apologies will hurt me even more."
"I love you too, you know?" You asked.
"Oh, I know." He smiled truthfully, cupping your cheek with his right hand, pulling you in close until your soft lips met his.
Loud static.
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untoldstar · 4 months
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male yandere king x fem! witch reader x male yandere personal secretary Introductory fic
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warnings: no yandere shenanigans here so no warnings really BUT this is an introductory fic the yandere themes will appear in later parts.
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You’re roughly shoved forward by the two guards that chained you and dragged you all the way here in front of The Kings throne.
King Reid.
“This is her?” You keep your eyes averted refusing to look at him in fear you might not hold back your glare and have your eyes gouged out for that. You’ve heard bone chilling stories of how ruthless he can be and you aren’t about to test the truth behind those stories yourself “Yes sir.” A gruff voice sounds beside you “And you’re completely sure it’s her?” He asks his tone pressing “Positively.” You look up to see that he’s already staring at you intensely, his body stiff with anticipation "Hm..,very well then." The corner of his mouth lifts slightly and a glint appears in his eyes. He nods his head to your wrists and in the blink of an eyes the rope is cut off your wrists. You groan as you rub your red wrists, at least he didn't keep you tied up. He suddenly turns his head to the guards "Everyone out at once!" The guards hurry to sweep the room of everyone and following suite shutting the door after them, as the echo of the large wooden door slowly dissipates it dawns on you that you're completely alone now. At his mercy.
He doesn't say anything only rises from his chair and makes his way to a nearby table pouring a drink which you assume is wine based off the crimson color you caught a glimpse of "Care to join me?" You only shake your head when he glances at you "Suit yourself." He grins. Just what is he doing? You've been dragged here like some sack of potatoes, wrists bound, questions ignored, not an explanation spared and yet he's leisurely enjoying a glass of wine?
"I've heard much about you." He plops down on his seat with a sigh. You stay quite simply watching his movements "The infamous witch.." He swirls the liquid in his cups as he stares at you almost spacing out. You quirk a brow. Infamous? Since when? "You might not realize it but you've caused quite the stir." He hums raising the glass to his lips " I hear people have been desperately crawling to your doorstep to give them a glimpse of the future that awaits them, pleas to make them rich overnight, many people willing to pay you a fortune just so their unrequited love can be returned. What is it that you do, potions?" You internally roll your eyes, of course he'd assume that "Spells." You answer keeping your voice even "Ah of course, my apologies, that was quite the childish assumption." Your tense shoulders relax a little you see he wasn't mocking. He's actually embarrassed if his averted gaze is anything to go by "That's alright..it's a common misconception." You try to comfort "Is it really?" You nod "You'd be surprised to know some of the people who come to me also think that." He hums "Is that so? very well then." He seems pleased to see you talking more and letting your guard down even if only a little "Well anyhow, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here" He sets his glass aside and shifts in his seat "I've been..watching you and I think you could be of great help to me and my kingdom." You cross your arms "What would a king want with a witch?" He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped infront of him "I do admit it's not..usual for a king to seek out a witch but that's precisely why I'm doing this. I believe that with you're help this kingdom can flourish" His eyes gleam and you understand why. You can already think of many ways that could be accomplished but what exactly are his plans? "How exactly would that be achieved?" He seems relieved you're not immediately against the idea "Well, in so many ways of course. You would provide me a level of protection my own guards can't give me, you can help me persuade allies, keep away enemies and false allies who seek the fall of my kingdom." You're face shows no emotions as he rambles on passionately, his ideas aren't bad but you don't want to stroke a kings already inflated ego "We can do so much together.." He suddenly rises up and walks towards you "Don't you think so?" He whispers, his body so close to you, eyes pleading and you're almost in disbelief at how a king is the one persuading you and looking at you with such pleading eyes. "Yes that could all work..But why would I do this? Forgive me your majesty but..what exactly are you offering me?" He smirks, thankfully not seeming to be offended by your question. His prideful demeanor returning once again "Why, everything, my dear. You will live here with me in the castle, your room will be right by my quarters, anything you ask shall be granted, I'll personally make sure of it. It will be a completely new way of living. All will be yours as long as you say yes." You don't give an answer. Nothing is stopping you, you live alone, up till now work has been your focus and this..is work. But is he truly to be trusted?
"..I-" You flinch when he suddenly places his hands on your shoulders rubbing them, he must have sensed your tension "Why don't you take a tour of the castle and think very carefully of my offer? perhaps that could help you arrive to a judgment" Your stomach clenches when his eyes darken and his tone turns warning "You'll find that taking me up on my very generous offer will turn out to be in your favor." Something is defiantly wrong with him but perhaps it's best to be polite and go along with the tour for now at least. You slowly nod "Alright.." He beams "Excellent!" He turns around and rings a bell that's by his throne and Immediately you hear the large wooden doors behind you open. You look behind you to see a man enter, the distance between you doesn't allow you to discern his features fully or any other details except for his raven colored hair and the fact that he's close to your age if not the same if his voice and build is any indication. He bows his head "You called me, your majesty." You feel Reid place his hand on your lower back "Yes." He turns to you smiling "That's Marcus, he's my personal secretary, he'll be the one to accompany you on the tour." You knit your brows "It won't be you?" He lets out a low chuckle "No, my dear, I'm afraid I have a few pressing matter I must take care of but I'm quite flattered you were hoping to spend more time in my company." He ends in a teasing tone. Ugh, anything you say will be taken as flattery with him won't it?"
"Alright enough of that now, Marcus can take it from here. I shall see you after the tour." He nods at you, his smile a little strained now, he truly does hope you will come to the decision of staying afterwards. It would really be disappointing if you don't, your room is ready and your closet is filled with clothes designed specifically for you, he doesn't want his preparations to go to waste.
He also doesn't want to take certain measures into making you stay.
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soulaires · 5 months
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cardan greenbriar family headcanons. your aaron warner was amazing btw.
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The Greenbriars.
pairings: dad!cardan x mom!reader
summary: Introducing the Greenbriar Family.
warnings: domestic fluff, ooc!cardan, mention of alcohol, family shenanigans, dad cardan, not proofread ...
note: omg! Thank you so much! Hope you love this one 🤍
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Cardan Greenbriar, the High King of Elfhame, sat upon his majestic throne and reclined in your shared space, the air hung with a quiet warmth as you, his beloved Queen of Elfhame, nervously fidgeted nearby.
"Cardan," you began, eyes meeting his with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. "I have something to tell you." His gaze, worries and panick visible to his eyes fixed on yours, waiting for the words that lingered on the tip of your tongue.
Cardan instinctively wrap his hands around you, trying to calm you down.
“what is it, My love?” he asked, but you only stares at him, anxiety building ip to the both of you.
The silence stretched, prompting you to take a steadying breath. As you pulled away from his embrace, which did not help your husband to calm at all, you let the secret out.
"I'm pregnant," you confessed, the weight of the words settling in the air between you. His eyes widened for a fleeting moment before a slow grin spread across his face.
you are pregnant. Gods, you are pregnant! He is going to be a father!
"Pregnant?" Cardan repeated, disbelief giving way to a genuine, unrestrained joy. He stood, closing the distance between you, and gently cupped your face. "You're going to be a mother," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of astonishment and delight.
“And I am going to be a father...” He whispered as he pick you up and hugged you around.
A cascade of emotions washed over you both—excitement, uncertainty, and the undeniable joy that comes with the promise of new life. Cardan's hands found yours, intertwining fingers in a gesture that spoke volumes. "We're going to have a family," he declared, his voice rich with emotion.
The reality of impending parenthood settled in as you exchanged glances, both grappling with the enormity of the news. Cardan's fingers traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent reassurance. "Are you happy?" you asked, the vulnerability in your voice bared for him to see.
His laughter, deep and genuine, filled the room. "Happy doesn't even begin to cover it," Cardan replied, pulling you into a tender embrace. “I love you so much, We can do this together, okay?” You nodded, as you two hugged once again, your husband face buried in your neck.
"We'll need to prepare," he mused, a glint of determination in his eyes. "A nursery, perhaps?"
As the news spread through the kingdom, joy radiated from the palace, touching every corner of Elfhame. The High King and his Queen, expecting an heir.
Elfhame celebrated with grand feasts and festivities, the air filled with laughter and music.
Days turned into weeks, and your pregnancy became the talk of the realm. The royal court buzzed with excitement, and Cardan, once the stoic ruler, found himself sharing his happiness openly. He attended to his kingly duties with renewed vigor, fueled by the anticipation of becoming a father.
As your pregnancy progressed, Cardan became increasingly involved, attending appointments with the court healer and participating in the preparations for the nursery. Soft kisses on your forehead, a gentle touch to your belly, and whispered promises of love to the baby.
dad!cardan who after the revelation he stops and restrain himself from drinking.
the baby was your 4th tear wedding anniversary baby
he LOOOOVES pressing his face to upur stomach, peppering kisses and talking to the baby even if the bump is not visible.
he had a habit wrapping his tail around you!
He gets very protective
he also does not care what time is it if you ever wake him up in the middle of the night because your cravings are acting out
he loves the way you are being clingy, even having mood swings being away from him
which also he had, hates it when he is away from you.
He do whatever you wish you want
Really can not say no to you
Only wants the best for you and the baby
Oh hes very paranoid
then when the time was near, he is always by your side and taking care of you.
When your water broke, cardan was not with you and you started to panick
You quickly rung the bell to call for servants to assist you
The pain was unbearable so you let out a cry
Your husband heard you and immediately darted out to reach you.
He quickly swept you to his arms and rushed you to the bed and the healers were already filing up in the room. Tears ran down to your cheeks as you pressed your face to your husbands chest.
Cardan attempted to stay strong for you despite his fears coming at him, he holds your hand and kissed your temples as he whisperers assurances and cheering you on.
“Oh, my love, I’m here now. It would be okay.”
“Shh, don’t worry. You can do this.”
“I love you. I love you. You and the baby would be fine just breathe for me, darling.”
As a mixture of nerves and anticipation settled over both of you. The night when contractions finally began, Cardan's calm demeanor cradled your anxiety. In the hushed hours of the birthing room, he held your hand, a steadfast presence amidst the whirlwind of emotions.
When the cries of a newborn filled the air, the reality of parenthood embraced you both. Cardan, his eyes shimmering with unspoken awe, cradled the tiny bundle in his arms. "We did it," he whispered, his gaze never leaving your exhausted yet elated face.
It was a boy! You named him archer. Archie as a nickname.
jude become his godmother!
he wrote letter to archie for him to read in the future
Cardan who is willing to be sleepless so tou can have your much needed rest and to ensure baby archies safety and comfort.
The type of dad to do silly things just to embarrass and make your kid laugh!
His prioritie is you and archies happiness
Oh archie is spoiled rotten as you and your husband falls victim to the puppy dog eyes easily
who cried when archie have his first word!!
Of course it was “dada”
you softly smiled and hug him as he hold your son
you guys cuddle at night as he whispers sweet nothings to your ears.
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🪩 :: voicemail; hope you guys love this one as much with the aaron warner hcs do not worry this is not the last time you guys gonna see baby archie and dad!cardan 🤭 Also if you want to be in my Cardan Greenbriar taglist please let me know on my inbox or dm me! See you soonest <3
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sea-lanterns · 4 months
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Ok, but can you imagine getting caught putting stickers on your stoic girlfriends face?
Lyney, Lynette, and Freminette just standing there stunned when they walk into the room to find you in Arlecchino's lap, absolutely covering her nose and cheeks in bright sparkly pink stickers.
Ganyu dropping the papers she had been carrying in surprise when she finds you spelling "Cute" across Ningguang's forehead with mismatched colored letter stickers.
Sara is trying so hard to be professional, she really is, its taking so much effort. But of course, you laying across Ei's lap in the throne room is quite distracting in itself. But with you also covering the Shogun in dessert stickers? Yea Ei is fully distracted from any business going on, and none of the guards can decide what to do in this situation.
Dehya knows that its a game you like to play with Candace, to hide stickers on the woman and see how long it takes her to notice. Dehya knows, and tries her best not to spoil it when she finds the stickers first instead. But when her and Candace try to spare, and Dehya comes face to face with a matching pair of tiny smiley face stickers, one dead center between Candace's eyes, and the other perfectly centered on her shield. Dehya can't stop the laughter that falls from her, much to Candace's own confusion.
AWWWWHDJJDJSKJFF
I love how your girlfriend just complies with whatever you want and everyone around you (including your girlfriend) just has to put up with your shenanigans because you’re just “too cute” to say no to 😅
It’s even funnier if the women don’t even try to deny you wanting to put stickers on their face. Once you show up with a little paper of stickers and a pleading look in your eyes, your girlfriend just immediately folds and lets you do whatever you want to them. You’re their weakness after all, they can’t say no to you <3
Even funnier is when they let you do it at work. Like imagine Arlecchino at a Fatui Harbinger meeting, and everyone is watching as Arlecchino gives an important message while her lover is sitting in her lap plastering unicorn stickers on her face 💕 Columbina is definitely laughing her ass off while the Tsaritsa finds it mildly amusing…
Oh…to do this with my girlfriend 🥹
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author-morgan · 1 year
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Title: Iā Zaldrīzes's Prūmia  Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Promises are not idly spoken and Aemond proves he's a man of his word.  Warnings: typical Westerosi shenanigans
THE DOORS OF your bedchamber creak and groan as they open without ceremony, but you already know who the unannounced and uninvited guest is at this hour —Prince Aemond Targaryen. “A gentleman would have knocked,” you tease as he makes his way across the room to where you sit at your vanity, following the trail of your discarded clothing —stockings, petticoat, skirt, bodice, and stays.
Aemond steps behind you, his hands resting at the base of your neck, fingertips lightly pressing into your collarbones. He bends at the waist, pressing his nose into the crown of your hair —still half bound up from the evening’s festivities— and inhales the sweet fading scent of rose and honeyed blood orange. “You avoided me tonight, sīmontan,” he notes. 
“Only to appease my father,” you tell him, watching his expression shift from mild ire and annoyance to curiosity in the reflection as you comb through another braid. Lord Wylde thinks himself a perspicacious man, and surely when it comes to the realm's affairs, he is, but he’s nigh blind to his daughter’s heart and longings. He expects you to take a husband soon —and quell the whispers that entertain the servants of the Red Keep and the court for good.
Expectations mean entertaining would-be suitors with pleasant conversation and clumsy dances during feasts instead of gossiping with Princess Helaena and her brother, Aemond. “We’re not children anymore,” you remind him. He is a prince. You are a lady. Neither you nor he can escape the responsibilities that come with each role.
“No,” he agrees. The days of childhood and innocence are long gone —he likes to think his childhood ended when Lucerys Velaryon took his eye. But even if childhood has come and gone, it feels like few things have changed between you and him. And maybe that’s what causes people to talk when they see the prince absconding from your chambers early in the morning or when you both return at indecent hours having stolen away on horse or dragon back.
Aemond sits next to you on the vanity bench and plucks one of the silver combs from your hair. Having him so close after the feast and your father's words gnaws at your heart in a new and strange way. You do not wish to be parted from the prince, but you cannot give yourself false hope either. “How much longer can we carry on like this?” You ask, voice wavering, and for maybe the first time, Aemond realizes the toll of his affections —of the life you both lead in private. “Sneaking around whilst my father and your mother try to make suitable matches for us.”
“I’ll tell mother there’s only one match she need make then,” he tells you. He called you his princess as a boy, but when Vhagar accepted you, he knew —it should have been enough to make your father and Alicent realize too. Aemond wraps a lock of your hair around his finger and tugs on it gently. “You’ll be a Princess of the Realm. What father would not wish that honor upon his daughter?” Then he leans closer and whispers in your ear. “Our sons could be kings.”
“Planning to depose your brother already?” That earns you a quiet laugh. He’s made it no secret that he is better suited for the throne than his lecherous brother. “It matters not, though.” You unwind the last of the braids and glance down at the brush in hand. Aemond’s pursed lips fall, his brow furrowing. “In the end, I am but the daughter of a minor house,” you remind him, “unfit for such a prestigious match.” Queen Alicent Hightower will pursue a union between her second son and a daughter from one of the Great Houses of Westeros —not the daughter of a lesser house from the Stormlands. House Wylde has nothing to offer the Crown save for love and loyalty. 
“I don’t give a shit about prestige,” Aemond bites, his tone sharp and expression harsh. He’ll not tolerate hearing you patronize yourself, nor the thought that anyone other than him would get to decide who is worthy of his love. The harsh line of his lips softens, as does the furrow between his brows. He shifts, taking hold of your hands —thumbs running across your knuckles. “Nyke jaelagon ao.”
Freeing one of your hands, you reach around him, undoing the clasp of his eyepatch. He catches the leather piece and places it next to one of your hair combs on the vanity. The blue of his stone-eye glimmers in the firelight —you’ve never loved that shade of deep blue as much as you do now. Aemond closes his eye when your fingertips meet the start of his scar, tracing downward, over where his eye should be, and across his cheek. He conceals his sapphire eye while at court so as not to frighten the ladies. But you had been among the first to see him after his return from Driftmark —the wound fresh and stitches swollen. Aemond hadn’t wanted you to look upon him, not after hearing whispers from others, but true friends did not abandon one another so readily.
You tilt your chin up and lean closer to him, heart racing. There’ll be no going back after tonight, one way or another. “Then make good on your promise and take me,” you breathe. It’s a promise made a lifetime ago and one you nor he has ever forgotten. 
Aemond inhales before he seizes your face within his hands and lurches forward, lips seeking yours —hungry and zealous and loving. You sigh into his mouth, fingers twisting into his silver-white hair. He tastes of smoke and wine and everything you could ever dream of in this life.
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THE SPACE NEXT to you in bed is empty and cold when your lady’s maid, Lyra, comes to wake and prepare you for the day. She says nothing about the state of your undress —only offers a meek smile when she realizes you wear Prince Aemond’s tunic. People in the Red Keep like to speculate about your and the prince’s relationship, but only Lyra knows the truth, having stumbled upon you and Aemond in bed, wrapped up in one another. It had been innocent enough then, but now without the high neck of your linen shift beneath a blue-green dress, the world would be able to see the scattering of dark lovebites on your neck —and speculation would turn to scandal.
A posted guard announces your arrival, and Helaena looks up from her embroidery and offers a faint and fleeting smile. “Good morrow, Lady Wylde,” the princess greets. You arrive later than usual, and Helaena’s already broken her fast with her brothers, sorely missing the pleasant conversation which often quells Aemond and Aegon’s tempers.
“Good morrow to you, princess,” you reply, dipping down into a quick curtsey before taking a seat across from her. Your unfinished embroidery is left on the low table, a poor attempt to create the sigil of House Wylde —a blue-green maelstrom on a golden field. The curves and lines are not straight, and instead of neat swirls, it looks more like a patchwork of yellow and blue thread. “We’ve apple tarts still from breakfast,” Helaena notes to break the looming quiet. “Made sure my brothers did not eat them all.”
You thank Helaena for her thoughtfulness, then turn your attention to little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, swaddled in pale linens and still fast asleep in their bassinet. Helaena often reprimands you for spoiling them, just as she does their uncle. It’s astounding such pure little beings had come from Aegon’s loins. “Aemond was looking for you,” she says, suddenly —knowing something was off with him this morning. “He’s gone to train now.”
“Did he say why?” But Helaena does not answer, only offering another quick smile. 
Ser Criston Cole glimpses you as you descend the stairs to join the others watching the prince’s training session. “You have an audience,” the kingsguard knight says, pushing away from a stalemate. Aemond always garners an audience when he trains —it makes for a bout of good entertainment on droll days, especially when his opponent is Ser Criston. But now the one person Prince Aemond always looks for arrives —and it’s the only audience that matters to the young prince. He spins the hilt of his training sword, then drives the blunted sword into the ground and turns on heel.
You step to Aemond, hands clasped behind your back and head tilted to the side —appraising his disheveled appearance and the sheen of sweat on his pale brow. “Helaena said you wished to see me, my prince?”
Mindlessly, he reaches for a lock of your hair, twisting it around his finger. “I always wish to see you,” Aemond replies, softly and hushed.
“Flattery will get you everywhere and nowhere, Aemond.” You grip his wrist lest he forgets himself and the others watching with eagle eyes and loose lips.
“Mm” —his lips quirk upward, and his gaze dips downward, tracing the line of your jaw and neck— “let’s hope for the former then, my lady,” he breathes, a heady lilt to the words. You like to think yourself immune to his tricks and sweet words, but the flush of warmth painting your cheeks says otherwise. Aemond smiles in earnest and glimpses his waiting opponent over his shoulder. “May I ask your favor whilst I best this old knight?” He asks, just loud enough for those closest to hear.
“I’ve no favor to give,” you tell him, amused —you have no crown of flowers, ribbon, or handkerchief to present the prince this day, only yourself.
But that’s more than enough. “A kiss then,” Aemond muses, already leaning closer and expecting you to acquiesce his request, “from my fairest lady.”
You press a hand to his chest, fingers toying with one of the buckles of his gambeson. “Only if you win.” A kiss is a precious thing, and you dare not give one away so freely before your titled peers. Aemond steps back and recovers his training sword, then turns to face Ser Criston.
Three more rounds come to pass. One ends in a draw, the other with Aemond knocking the kingsguard knight’s sword from hand, but in the final contest, Criston claims victory.
The gathered lords and ladies clap and cheer, slowly filtering from the training yard now that the spectacle is over. You lean against a training dummy, watching as the two combatants and their page boys come to rerack the training weapons. “It’s good of you to knock him on his arse from time to time, Ser Criston,” you remark, making your way toward the knight and prince. 
Aemond glares across the training yard, but you only smile sweetly for him. In truth, it soothes your heart and mind to know the prince is trained by one of the finest knights in the Seven Kingdoms —and one of the few battle-hardened warriors who resided in the city at that. “Even princes must be humbled, my lady,” Ser Criston replies. “A duty I take no pleasure in.”
You reach for Aemond’s arm. “Walk with me,” you say, smiling up at him. He obliges, knowing your company will be the sweetest balm for his wounded pride. You mean to steal him away to the godswood of the Keep but passing members of the court all seek to stop you and the prince for polite conversation —a question about King Viserys’s health, an offhand remark about the unusually warm weather. 
Many in the court believe you to be a good match for the prince regardless of birth status, though they’d never dare speak such improper opinions aloud. And all the while, Aemond presses his hand against the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles, mindlessly, through the linen and silk of your summer dress —always touching you somehow, as he is wont to do, and uncaring of whoever may see.
It takes time to converse with everyone so as not to be seen as impolite, but the halls of the Red Keep give way to the godswood. Aemond stops beneath the weirwood tree and peers up at the red leaves, suddenly lost in thought and memory. “If you could go anywhere” —his gaze flits down to you— “where would you go?” He isn’t sure what he wants to hear you say. 
“Se hūra,” you answer, needing little time to ponder an answer. You’ve everything you want here in King’s Landing —family, friends, the love of a prince— you needn't go anywhere else save the impossible. 
“You’d have to fly to the moon,” he muses.  
You step in front of Aemond and reach for his hands —twining your fingers with his. “But you have a dragon.” You could take me. If any dragon could reach the moon and stars, it would be Vhagar, and Aemond would take you without question or hesitation. He does not say anything, but there’s a glimmer in his eye, and then he frees one of his hands, the backs of his fingers skimming across your cheek. Aemond exhales softly, leaning in as you tilt your chin up, standing a little taller. It’s a small kiss, just at the corner of your mouth, nothing more, nothing less —for propriety’s sake. But before he can part, you turn your head, noses brushing together just before your lips do. 
It’s a risky decision to display your feelings for one another so openly, but the prince is long past caring, and you’re nigh to that point too. A cool tingle crawls up your arms when his hand cradles the back of your head —fingers lacing into your hair. Aemond nudges your nose with his own, and on instinct, you both tilt your heads, finding a better angle for him to kiss you slowly, lazily. And then he grabs your waist with his free hand and pulls you closer to him, breathing in your little gasp. “Ñuha sīmontan,” he whispers upon parting. Then he releases you from his gentle hold and steps back.
You cannot keep him to yourself this day, he’s promised to tend to his mother before continuing his studies with the maester, and you must return to Helaena’s company as her favored lady-in-waiting.
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AEMOND KNEELS BEDSIDE and wakes you with the cool brush of his fingertips against your cheek. “Come to bed, jorrāelagon,” you murmur, catching his mismatched gaze of lilac and sapphire in the dim firelight of the dwindling sconces. But he makes no move to join you; instead, he offers his hand —and his heart. 
Rousing, you don a dressing gown and cloak and follow your rogue prince through the hidden passageways of the Red Keep and into a courtyard below, where Ser Criston waits with a saddled black destrier. The kingsguard knight passes the reins to Aemond with a curt nod before taking his leave to return to his post at the Queen’s door. Aemond helps you up into the saddle, then mounts behind you and takes the reins, turning westward. It’s common for the two of you to steal away for the night, but seldom do such trysts occur without prior thought. You glance over your shoulder. “Where are we going at this hour?”
His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest. “Se hūra,” Aemond replies, a gentle whisper in your ear. 
King’s Landing fades on the horizon as you ride to the south and towards the Kingswood. He slows the horse to a halt at the edge of a clearing surrounding one of the largest oak trees in the swath of forest. Burning lanterns hang from the lowest branches, and an altar bearing miniature stone likenesses of the Seven stands before the great trunk.
Aemond eases you from the saddle, then dismounts himself and offers the crook of his arm. You glance around and to the stars and moon above —the clouds from earlier have parted to a clear night sky— before looking up at the prince. A flutter starts in your belly, and your heart begins beating faster. It isn’t, you tell yourself. He wouldn’t break tradition so easily. “Is this where you disappeared to earlier?” You query, wondering how many days and nights he’s spent planning this moment, but he does not offer an answer.
When you reach the altar, he steps before you and takes your hands. “I like to think I am a man of my word,” Aemond starts, and you can see the nervous twinkle in his eye. “I would make you mine tonight,” he tells you. “Now and forever.” He promised when you were only children that you’d be his princess one day, and again when you were both of age and realized simple friendship could not account for the way you loved one another. The tears pricking at your eyes are ones of joy, and you smile for Aemond before embracing him, face tucked into the crook of his neck.
From the shadows, Septon Eustace emerges, a marriage cape draped over his arm and a lantern held aloft in the other. Part of you refuses to believe this is happing —you’ve scarcely dreamt of something so sweet as this moment. Eustace bows his head. There is no need for ceremony or rambling to appease the masses. Tonight it is only two young lovers, desperate and eager to speak the sacred vows before it is too late.
“We are here to join these two as man and wife in the sight of the Seven,” he begins, looking between you and the prince and the carved figurines of the Seven on the altar. You grip Aemond’s hand, fingertips pressing into his wrist. “One flesh, one heart” —his heart is racing, just as yours is, almost in sync— “one soul, now and forever.” And forever shall come too soon.
“Cloak the bride, my prince.” The septon extends his arm, offering the black cape emblazoned with the sigil of House Targaryen, embroidered with silver thread and shining ruby eyes. “Bring her under your protection.” Aemond takes the cloak and steps behind you —his uneven breaths fan across the nape of your neck— draping the heavy fabric over your shoulders. The new weight makes you stand taller, as a princess of the realm should.
Septon Eustace lowers his head as Aemond returns to your side and reaches for your shaking hand, but his touch nigh instantly soothes your nerves and heart. “In the name of the Seven, I seal these two souls” —the septon wraps a red silk ribbon around your joined hands— “binding them as one for eternity,” he states, taking a step back. “Now look upon one another and say the words.”
You glimpse Aemond, gaze following the sharp line of his jaw, before shifting to face him. “Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger,” you and Aemond say in unison, gazes locked and unfaltering —his cold gaze softens, reflecting the lanterns and stars. You take a slow breath before reciting the vows you’ve only ever dreamt of speaking. “I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days,” you proclaim. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days, Aemond echoes. 
“It is done then,” the septon says, bowing his head as he unbinds the silk ribbon. “I wish you both happiness and good health.” Eustace looks to Aemond. “My prince” —then his gaze flits over to you— “princess.” A flutter of wings stirs in your belly hearing your new title, another promise Aemond had made good on. And then Septon Eustace takes his leave.
Alone, you reach for him and rise on your toes to bestow a kiss just below his sapphire eye, along the scar cutting across his cheek. “Husband,” you call him, giddy with the thought and what it means for the future. 
Aemond rests his forehead against yours, lips curved into a smile. “Say it again,” he breathes, the words a soft caress against your lips and cheek. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of hearing his name and titles in your soft, lilted voice. 
“Valzȳrys,” you whisper, remembering the Valyrian word for ‘husband’ —you came across it while reading a book about the traditions of Old Valyria with him in the library. 
“Ābrazȳrys,” he calls you. Another title added to an ever-growing list of endearments: Wife. Princess. My love. Rose. Aemond cups your face in his hands and brings your lips together. The kiss is sweet and soft, not lesser, or more than any other you’d shared in secret, only now, he is more than your dear prince.  
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IT’S NOT DIFFICULT to keep your marriage to Aemond a secret. You both carry on as you always have in the eyes of the court, but your husband takes to the secret passageways of the Red Keep to spend the evening and night hours with his new wife —always gone by morning, though. No one, save for Lyra and perhaps Helaena, suspects a thing.
And so your father continues his search for a suitable man to marry his daughter. He calls upon you to take lunch in the gardens with him and hear the good news. “You’re to meet Humfrey Swyft in a week's time,” Lord Wylde announces. House Swyft is a knightly house of the Westerlands, sworn to House Lannister. A good name. A good house. A good match. But as your father speaks, your heart begins to race —pounding in your ears like the war drums of the Giants. “He has asked to seek your hand in courtship.” And marriage. 
“I cannot accept this match, father,” you tell him, eyes downcast and gaze focused on your hands —folded in your lap. Lord Wylde’s brows settle into a deep furrow. He raised you as a proper lady of the court, talented in womanly affairs and always dutiful. Despite your newfound happiness, it is still painful to be a disappointment to your father and house.
“I am wed to another.” Your voice trembles as you speak the truth, and your father’s face turns red with anger. But you go on. Lord Wylde is a devout follower of the Seven, and perhaps it will ease his heart and curb his temper to know you had not done something so reckless on a whim. “Septon Eustace and the Seven will attest to my vows.”
“To whom are you married, daughter?” He knows the answer already, deep down —and knows the whispers which entertain the servants and other members of the court about his daughter and the prince are true. You look up from your glass of sweet wine, seeing Aemond approach through the hedges —a prince come to rescue his lady wife— and give a quiet sigh of relief.
“Me,” Aemond says before you can speak his name. “And we did so with the Queen’s blessing.” You look to your husband, just as surprised as your father upon hearing it. Though, at least it soothes your heart to know Good Queen Alicent looked upon your union with her son favorably.
“You need not worry for her happiness or prosperity, my Lord Wylde.” Aemond rounds the table and reaches for your hand to kiss your knuckles, his lips pulling into a smile against your flesh. “I will honor her as all good husbands honor their wives.” His cool gaze flits from your father back to you, a new, unspoken promise shining in his eye. Now, always, and forever. 
High Valyrian Translation: Iā Zaldrīzes's Prūmia - A Dragon’s Heart Sīmontan. - Rose. Nyke jaelagon ao. - I want you. Se hūra. - The moon. Ñuha sīmontan. - My rose. Jorrāelagon. - Love. Valzȳrys. - Husband. Ābrazȳrys. - Wife.
[House of the Dragon taglist: @batmomphd / @beelanie / @certifiedlittleshit / @crispmarshmallow / @crvshnburnn / @dollvi3e / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @fictionaldistraction / @gallimaufrea / @hc-geralt-23 / @holysmokesblog / @idkjj04 / @instabull / @javisjeanjacket / @katie007123 / @ksziggy / @lady-stark-winter-rose / @lillianastras / @lostingoogletranslate / @lucyhotchner / @midnightmuze / @mikariell95 / @misskatiewrites / @moonlightsspirit / @moshpot24x / @mrsragnarlodbrok / @m1ndbrand / @nenelysian / @nerdy4itall / @newtsniffles / @notbrookie / @paprikabadger / @purestxblood / @qhbr2013 / @safe-within-the-stars / @sandronebabyy / @sapphirehearteyes / @savagemickey03 / @schniiipsel / @singular-itae / @thewintersnoozer / @watercolorskyy / @xcallmetaniax / @xinyourdreamsx / @xxgarden / @23victoria ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my House of the Dragon taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!
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sister-of-hitoshi · 2 months
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Bnha main three x turned to child reader
Scenarios with just fluff!
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Midoriya Izuku
It was a quaint, idle afternoon, although Midoriya Izuku was as busy as ever.
Being the former no.1 hero's protégé, being the weilder of One for All, being a dutiful student of the most prestigious academy of Japan, being a good son, being a supportive friend, a wonderful partner, a-
Good babysitter?
Yes there was a lot to be, but being a babysitter was really asking too much of him.
Our pure, sweet and innocent boy might be good with kids in general, but he was not made to handle little gremlins with short fuses.
But alas, to be the future no.1 hero of the country, you should be ready to face each and every challenge thrown at you.
Or that's what he kept telling himself.
Because right now, a little gremlin had been pulling at his curls for god knows how long.
And this little gremlin was his adorable s/o...
It all started when he had comeback to his room being left in shambles with a little toddler claiming their throne at it's centre.
"U-ummm"
"W-W-Whoooo a-are youuu??!!"
What is an adorable kid doing in his room? How are they even in his room? Isn't UA supposed to have top-tier security? Why is-
"I'M Y/N!!"
This was enough for his instincts to take over his next movements as he immediately picked you up and full-cowled to Aizawa sensei.
Recovery girl was informed, and following her deductions, he got to know about the duration of three days.
Without further ado, and due to all the qualities mentioned in point number 2, Aizawa immediately put him in charge of his companion.
Which brings us back to the present.
The present where you were running around the common school yard with him chasing after you- because at some point during his conversation with his teachers you had become tired of his curls and had jumped down from his back, ordering requesting him to run and catch you.
The first few minutes he was only trying to humour you to see that adorable grin that you sported.
But this soon wasn't the case anymore since he was now being bested by a literal toddler in terms of running for two hours straight.
This activity was followed by you doing his hair and him doing yours in your room, since his was left in shambles and you wouldn't let him go.
To say you were hyper was an understatement-
And you hadn't even unleashed half of your potential!
At some point, the perplexity of his own precarious situation got to him, leading him to call his mom asking for tips.
Following which he had you strapped on his chest everytime he was busy doing something, he couldn't have you tiring yourself afterall (he didn't have it in him to run after you anymore)
It was pretty alright after your initial tantrums and pulling on his hair, asking to be let down.
You were a somewhat of cuddle bug for him- you slapped everyone's hands away when they tried to touch you, and only permitted him for doing so (he is still very proud of you for doing that).
Want to be entertained? You can swing using his black whips, float around the room with him, the options were endless!- So of course you did everything on the list because why not.
All in all he was a good servant caretaker, you never once cried when he was around and he could keep up with your royal decrees shenanigans.
Of course you would never know that he fantasized about you in his almight onesies
"...Is this the candy that you wanted, Y/N?"
"YEs"
You were pretty pleased with your devoted follower, so being a good ruler, you decided it was best to promise your loyal subject a deserving reward.
"Uh- they said that they've run out of stock for that juice Y/N-san so-"
You interrupted him by giving him a sweet peck on the cheek, as a reward of course-
"Mr. Izukw! I'm gonna marry yu in the fwuture!"
"..umM..."
.......
....
"...- so the kis- I MEAN THE CANDY- NO JUICE-JUICE-"
You child form wasn't enough to keep him from blushing till his ear tips.
He pulled on his bangs to keep you from seeing his red face.
"Umm...m-me too"
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waratah-moon · 1 year
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You were quite content living in blissful unawareness of Eddie Munson, but that all changed when your brother joined Hellfire Club. Now the loud-mouthed metal head was everywhere; and for some reason he's deadset on making you miserable.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader (can be read as bio or adoptive sister - visually inclusive)
Warnings: SMUT (reader is 18+, protected sex), underage drinking (in America), mean older sister/ siblings shenanigans, enemies to lovers
Word count: 7k
masterlist / read on ao3 / send me love 💌
You had never paid much attention to Eddie Munson before your senior year. You’d heard of him, of course; Hawkins was a small town and his reputation as the loud-mouthed metal head preceded him, but the two of you ran in different cliques and had never actually crossed paths.
Eddie never paid much attention to you either. He knew your name and face the same way he knew the names and faces of most of his classmates, but he thought you were just another stereotype. Another cheerleader destined for a life of middle-class suburban drudgery after peaking in high school.
But Eddie was wrong. Behind your strawberry lip gloss and perfectly styled hair you had goals beyond being a housewife. Your dad had always said you were ambitious; too smart for your own good. Your advanced placement classes and extracurricular activities had put you on track for a scholarship to some fancy out of state college and as soon as you graduated you were out of Hawkins.
The only thing you were going to miss about your small town was your younger brother. Dustin was annoying, he was also a major nerd who shared practically none of your interests, but you had a soft spot for the little twerp. It had been hard on him when your family moved to Hawkins five years ago and even harder when your father had up and left. You’d taken it upon yourself to look out for the kid. It had been a blessing he’d found friends in Mike, Lucas, and Will, but you were still thankful to be there for his first year of high school.
The first day Dustin started at Hawkins High he’d come home talking about Hellfire Club and their leader, ‘Eddie the Banished’. You hadn’t thought much about it, just glad that he and his friends had found a group to belong to amongst the high school cliques, even if it was one of the lamer clubs. That relief soon turned into annoyance when you learnt that Hellfire Club met at the same time as cheer practice, meaning your mom made you drive Dustin and his friends home.
The first time you properly interacted with Eddie Munson was about six weeks into the new school year. Hellfire had run late the last few weeks and you were not in the mood to be waiting around. The nights were getting colder and the cardigan that came with your cheer uniform was doing little to protect you from the chilly October air. After sitting in your car for half an hour you’d had enough.
Dustin had never told you where his club met but it didn’t take you long to find them; you only had to follow the sound of raucous hollering down the hallway to the drama room. The door was shut but you could see the light seeping through the crack above the floor and hear the unmistakable sound of muffled arguing. 
You swung the door open without warning, cutting someone off mid-sentence. “If you’re not in the car in five minutes I’m leaving and you can all walk home.” Your voice cut through the chatter like a knife, all heads whipping around to stare at you.
The young man at the head of the table squinted his eyes, rising from the throne he was sitting on. “This is a private meeting.”
“I’m not asking to join,” you retorted. “I’m Dustin’s sister.”
“Family day is next week.” He studied your face as if trying to place you and your name rolled off his tongue as a question. “I’ve seen you with Chrissy.”
It didn’t surprise you he knew Chrissy. You knew she’d scored special K and oxy off him a few times; you knew most of the cheer squad had bought something from him whether they admitted to it or not. Chrissy had told you, albeit in secret, that Eddie was actually a nice guy. His tone and expression right now made you question her judgement.
“You never said your sister was a cheerleader, Henderson,” he said it like an insult but he was smirking. His eyes trailed up your legs, your short skirt only just covering your thighs.
You shifted awkwardly but stood your ground. “Glad to see all that pot hasn’t affected your critical thinking skills,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side. “Reckon you’ll finally graduate this year?”
“Why, already planning the reunion? Must suck when your entire personality is school spirit. What’s left to do once you’ve already peaked?”
You scowled, eyes narrowing. “Car, Dustin. Now.”
“You said five minutes,” your brother whined, eyes bouncing between you and Eddie.
“I changed my mind,” you turned on your heels and left, not caring if your brother or his friends were following.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You seemed to see Eddie more often after that first encounter. Either he was making his presence more apparent or your mind had become more aware of spotting him in the crowds. Either way, neither of you spoke to each other, but you did keep making the mistake of glancing at him; fatal errors that left him smirking after you.
You didn’t seem alone in your inability to look away, though. You’d caught Eddie staring at you in the hallways more than once, casually leaning against his locker and twisting his silver rings around his fingers. The difference between you, however, was that Eddie never looked away in embarrassment when you caught him watching you. Instead he would tilt his head, wordlessly testing to see if you would question him, knowing you wouldn’t be caught dead talking to him in public. You’d scowl whenever he did this, slamming your locker shut and forfeiting the contest. 
“Dustin won’t shut up about him.”
“Who?” You knew who he was talking about, but you acted confused nonetheless, picking at your manicure as you sat on the hood of your car.
“That freak Eddie Munson,” Steve said, jealousy coating the name. He was leaning against his own car, parked in the spot next to yours. The two of you often found yourselves chatting as you waited to pick up your freeloaders; you were waiting for your brother, Steve waiting for Robin.
“I know, it’s getting ridiculous,” you too were getting sick of Dustin’s dedicated worship to the dungeon master, but part of you was also glad he was annoying Steve too. “Maybe if you hung out with him more-”
“I have a life!”
“-he wouldn’t have so much time for Eddie,” you finished your thought. Steve groaned, throwing his head back to look up at the sun, Ray-Bans perched on his nose. “Speaking of having a life, have you asked out Linda yet?”
“Have you asked out Gavin?”
You made a retching noise. “Ugh, no. He tripped a freshman in the cafeteria the other day and my attraction to him,” you flicked your wrist. “Just like that, poof, it was gone. He has great hair though.”
“You can have great hair without being an asshole. Believe me, I would know.”
“Would you though?” You reached up to ruffle his hair, managing to mess it up before he swatted your hand away. Your giggling was cut short as Steve tugged your head back by your ponytail, loosening the hair tie until it hung limply by your shoulder blades. “Hey! I spend ages getting these curls just right.”
“And you think this comes naturally?” He stared at you a moment over the top of his Ray-Bans before the two of you dissolved into a fit of laughter. You slumped against Steve’s shoulder as the muscles in your stomach began to ache, his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady.
“Interrupting something, are we?” You looked up to see Eddie and Dustin standing in front of you. Eddie was holding a shoe box with a scale model of a water wheel, while Dustin was holding the poster-board portion of his science project.
Steve dropped his arm as you rolled your eyes. “If you needed help carrying stuff you should have asked,” you opened the trunk of the car, gesturing for Dustin to put his science project inside.
“Eddie offered,” Dustin tossed his bag next to the water wheel and shut the trunk. “I said I’d help Mike with his so I’ll be back in a sec.” Before you could protest that you had things to do, Dustin rushed off brushing passed Robin as he left.
“Did anyone tell him he’s heading in the wrong direction or are you all too busy standing around doing nothing?” Robin asked, opening the passenger door of Steve’s car and throwing her backpack on the backseat. She gave you a little wave before she hopped in.
“Coming to the store later?”
“Nah, can’t tonight. Got a test first thing tomorrow morning,” you sighed, drumming your fingers on the roof of your car. “I’ll come by after school tomorrow. Brooke said I need to watch Impulse. She said it’s sexy and scary.”
“The best combination. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Have fun studying,” he gave you a dorky salute before he got in the car.
You hadn’t even realised Eddie was still standing there until he spoke. “Didn’t know you and Harrington were a thing. Can’t say I’m surprised,” he dug around in his jacket pocket and produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
You crossed your arms, already annoyed. “Not that it’s any of your business but we’re not together.”
“Why not?” He stuck a cigarette between his lips, lighting the end. “He seems like your type. You know, an asshole.”
“If assholes were my type I’d be all over you,” it came out more as a sneer than you had anticipated but you stuck with it.
“Who says you aren’t?” When he saw your horrified expression he explained. “I see the way you look at me.”
“I only look to make sure you’re not watching me. You’re a stalker, Munson.”
“Stalker? Does the whole world revolve around you now, sweetheart? I wasn’t aware.”
“Your world does since you seem to be obsessed with me,” at this point it was pretty clear, even to you, that you were deflecting. But there was some small amount of truth in the fact that he watched you as much as you watched him. “I hate you, Eddie Munson. And I’m pretty sure you hate me too.”
Eddie smirked, blowing a spiral of smoke upwards, “it’s a thin line between love and hate.”
You blinked as you processed his words, a knowing smile appearing on your lips when it dawned on you why they sounded so familiar. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you. Now tell me, what do girls usually say when they realise your lines are stolen song lyrics?”
“That’s up to you, sweetheart. You’re the first,” he winked as he left you standing shellshocked.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It was a chilly Tuesday night, and while you would have much rather be curled up on your couch watching Moonlighting with your mom, you’d instead been dragged to a dingy bar on the outskirts of town by your friend. She had a crush on one of the bartenders; a community college student from the next town over. Inside the bar was thick with cigarette smoke and the floor was sticky with years of spilt beers. An amateur band had taken to the stage and were playing a very subjective form of music. But your friend had assured you that this bar didn’t card.
You shrunk into one of the booths, fingers gripping a tall glass of very foamy beer. You kept glancing across to where your friend sat at the counter, overly affectionate in her flirting with the man behind the bar. Stupidly, she’d been your ride here, meaning you’d either need to convince her to leave or call your mom up to come and save you. Neither seemed like great options. You looked over at the stage, the band was now playing a slower song and you had to admit it wasn’t half bad.
The guitarist was pretty good. You watched him as he concentrated on the riff, his fingers moving quickly along the neck of the guitar, his long hair and the dark stage lights obscuring his face. You couldn’t look away from his hands and suddenly very uninvited thoughts entered your head. Dirty thoughts that had absolutely no excuse to be there, especially about a man whose face you’d never seen. You shook your head trying desperately to shake free the thoughts, but they were somehow gripping onto the corners of your mind; digging in their heels and setting up camp.
You were busy trying to think about other things like kittens and rainbows that you’d barely noticed that the band had stopped playing. Only the scattered applause from the few drunken patrons woke you from your dream state. The band began packing up; unplugging amps and disassembling the drum kit and you contemplated introducing yourself to the mystery guitarist. There was something about him that felt magnetic, but you decided to watch him from a distance for a little longer. There was no point talking to him if he wasn’t cute, after all.
Every time you tried to catch a glimpse of his face something was in the way; either the bassist was chatting with him about something or other, or the bartender was refilling his drink. You were about to finally give up and admit that it was a lost cause when you looked up and saw he was alone at the corner of the stage closest to you. He was fiddling with one of the tuning keeps when he pushed his hair back, the stage light in perfect position to illuminate his face. His annoyingly handsome face.
“No,” you breathed, sinking into the booth with your head down. You did not just spend the last 20 minutes building up the courage to talk to the cool guitarist for it to turn out to be Eddie fucking Munson. You braved a glance up to see him staring right at you, “fuck.” He was smirking, just like always, as he packed his guitar into its case.
Maybe he’d leave you alone. Maybe he would pack up the amps and head off. You didn’t really believe that, groaning as you saw him making his way towards you. 
“Sure you’re in the right place, sweetheart?” He slid effortlessly into the booth opposite you.
“Wait, this isn’t the nail salon?” You feigned confusion, expression quickly souring as his arms stretched over the back of the booth. You didn’t like that he was getting comfortable. You didn’t want to like it.
“Like the set?”
“You’re not Duran Duran.”
Eddie scoffed, “I’m taking that as a compliment.” He leant forward, “what are you doing here, Henderson?”
You glanced over at your friend, it was the first time you had checked in on her in a while and the innocent flirting had advanced to making out as she and the bartender swallowed each other’s tongues. 
Eddie followed your gaze, “oh.”
“Yeah,” you downed the last of your beer. “She’s my ride.”
“I can drive you home,” he said it easily, as if it was no big deal.
You were hesitant to take him up on the offer, but due to your friend’s current activities you might just have to. “Really?” You weren’t sure how you’d manage the drive home in such close quarters.
“Sure. You can help me load the amps.”
After managing to pull your friend apart from her make out companion long enough to tell her you’d found a ride home, Eddie had stuck to his guns and made you help him pack the amps into the back of his van. His van smelled warm, like old spice and smoke, with the faint earthy hint of weed. It was nice and cosy, a safe haven from the frigid December air outside. You waited for Eddie to turn on the ignition, but he hesitated.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
“What?” You weren’t expecting him to ask you that. It was true that you’d told him those three big words before, but it was more of a heat of the moment explosion than the truth. “I don’t actually hate you.” He just got on your nerves and if you were honest you weren’t even sure why.
“You obviously don’t like me.”
“You don’t like me,” you pointed out, remembering the first conversation you two had shared and the insults you’d both made at the other’s social rank.
“I do like you,” he sounded earnest, his voice soft.
You paused, “you like me?”
“Yeah, you’re not what I thought you’d be like.” You frowned and Eddie cringed, “I didn’t mean-” he attempted to grasp for the right words. “I thought you’d be a stereotype, but I was wrong. I’m sorry for what I said when we first met.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Not really,” he leant back against the headrest, his face turned to watch you. The moonlight reflected in his dark brown eyes showing shimmering flecks of amber. “Dustin talks about you a lot. He talks about Harrington too but I’m more interested in what he has to say about you.” You couldn’t help the smile that escaped through your well maintained facade of indifference and Eddie caught it. “That’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”
You blushed. What on earth was he doing to you? You looked down, a million thoughts raced through your head but the one you focused on was telling you to get it together.
You didn’t hate Eddie Munson, but you didn’t exactly like him either. You didn’t even know him. All you knew about him came from what your brother had told you. He liked metal music, played the guitar, and led the most epic DnD campaigns. He was cool, according to Dustin, Lucas, and Mike, and he’d taken the three freshman under his wing on the first day of school. Eddie Munson hadn’t done anything to make you dislike him, in fact the way he was looking out for your brother and his friends should endear you to him. He’d even apologised for insulting you the first time you’d met. Maybe Chrissy was right, maybe Eddie was a good guy.
You weren’t sure what made you lean in, but within seconds you were kissing him. He tasted like tobacco and beer, and ever so slightly like juicy fruit. His mouth felt warm, his tongue lingering against your bottom lip, like he wasn’t game enough to make the next move.
“Kiss me,” you urged, tugging his head towards you. That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed because the instant his lips met yours for the second time all bets were off.
He groaned as your fingers curled against his scalp, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you across the centre console onto his lap. He shrugged off his jacket, tossing it in the backseat and his movements made your back bump against the steering wheel. You didn't care, too focused on the feeling of Eddie’s hands travelling beneath your sweater, your own hands tugging the material of his raglan shirt away from his skin. You shivered as his thumbs brushed below your ribcage and you wanted nothing more than for him to explore further, but you were in his van. And his van was in the parking lot of a shady bar. And people were beginning to file out of the shady bar into the parking lot.
“Eddie,” it came out more like a moan as his lips moved to the skin on your neck.
“Hmm?” You didn’t want him to stop, you never wanted this to stop.
“It’s getting late,” it took every fibre of your being to place your hands on his chest and push him back. You hoped to God he could see the disappointment in your eyes under the flickering neon of the Hideout sign.
“Oh,” hands slipped out from beneath your sweater and landed on your waist. His fingers toyed with the belt loops on your jeans. “You need to get home.”
“I don’t want to,” you really didn’t and Eddie’s mood seemed to lighten at your confession. “But I should. I’m sorry.”
“No, s’fine,” he cleared his throat and loosened his grip on you allowing you to clamber back into the passenger seat. “You live on Vine, right?”
“Yeah,” you felt a little out of breath and you straightened your sweater as he pulled out of the parking lot. You couldn’t figure out why he made you so nervous. You’d been with boys before, popular boys too. But Eddie was different and you weren’t sure why.
The drive was silent for the next couple of minutes, tension thick in the air as you gathered up the courage to make a suggestion. “Eddie?”
“Yeah?” You could see his knuckles whiten against the steering wheel when you said his name. 
“If you don’t have anywhere to be,” you drifted off. Snap out of it, just ask him. “Do you want to come in? Everyone will be asleep.”
You could just make out his grin as street lamps flashed passed. “Absolutely.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You told Eddie to park a few houses down, saying you didn’t need to explain to Dustin why his friend’s highly recognisable van was parked out front of your house in the middle of the night.
“My brother’s room is next door so don’t talk too loudly,” you hurried Eddie into your bedroom, softly closing the door behind you and sliding the lock shut. It had taken some begging but your mom finally let you put a lock on your door after Dustin kept recording Saturday Night Live over the top of your tapes of The Love Boat.
The room felt suffocatingly quiet and you were certain Eddie could hear the hammering of your heartbeat, so you moved over to the cassette recorder and chose a tape; the opening notes to More Than This softly played through the speakers. Eddie took a seat on your bed, looking around the room while you twisted the vertical blinds shut and closed the sheer pink curtains. 
“For some reason I pictured more posters of Ralph Macchio.”
“They’re all inside my closet,” you kicked off your shoes and sat cross-legged next to him. “Along with my shrine to Thomas Magnum.”
“Is it the moustache that does it for you? Because I’ll tell you know if I grew one I’d look like a 70s porn star.”
“Wouldn’t that be kind of hot?” You moved a little closer to him, your knee pressing against his thigh.
“Have you seen the guys in porn? Definitely not.”
“I think I’ve seen maybe one porno in my entire life. Something where a girl orders a pizza-”
“With extra sausage? Then you’ve seen most of them,” he’d placed his hand on your knee now, slowly inching it up your thigh.
“This is not how I thought my night would go.”
He started to pull back but you grabbed his hand to keep him close. “Are you regretting it?”
You shook your head, your fingers intertwined with his. You wondered if his rings would leave indentations in your skin when he gripped your thighs. “No, not at all.” You took a deep breath, ready to admit to the butterflies that had been sitting in your stomach since you’d left the Hideout. “You just make me nervous.”
Eddie’s eyes widened. “I make you nervous? Princess you terrify me. I’m shaking in my boots here.”
“So we both feel the same way.” You dropped his hand back against your thigh, pushing it slowly between your legs. You still had a pair of thick denim jeans on but Eddie got the message. “Maths states they should cancel each other out. You should kiss me to make sure.”
“If that’s what maths says,” he leant forward and you instinctively fell back, your head hitting the quilted pillow. Eddie was hovering over you, his lips soft and pink about an inch above yours. He dipped lower, brushing against the underside of your jaw, below your ear, and over your cheekbone before he finally pushed your lips apart with his. This kiss felt different from the last, not as flustered or bruising. His tongue moved languidly against yours; it felt like he was trying to memorise the shapes and textures, taking his time and eliciting little gasps when he nibbled and sucked. You lost yourself in the feeling of him, time slowing and the sounds of Brian Ferry’s vocals becoming nothing more than a humming buzz of white noise.
You were normally great at multitasking, but Eddie had left you in a haze. You’d done this a few times before, notable players including the asshole basketball star in your sophomore year and the college kid who’d returned home for the holidays when you were a junior. You’d even slept with Steve a few times over the summer out of sheer boredom, but none of them had made you tingle with electric energy the way Eddie did. You were so focused on the rhythm of the kiss that you hadn’t even realised he’d unzipped your jeans until his fingers pushed your panties aside and dipped between your folds.
“God you’re so wet already,” you squirmed when you felt the pressure of his finger against your clit, a little whine getting stuck in your throat. “Is this okay?”
You nodded wildly, hair falling in front of your eyes.
“Need you to use your words, sweetheart.”
“It’s good Eddie. I need more,” you jerked your hips upward and he obliged by rhythmically rubbing your clit. He could only do so much with his hand down your pants, his movements awkwardly affected by the denim. “Faster.”
“I can’t, your jeans are in the way.”
You huffed, pushing him back so he was sitting on his heels. You pulled off your jeans, frustratingly throwing them to the ground. You ripped off your sweater while you were at it, leaving you only in your panties and your bra. “Better?”
“Your underwear is still in the way,” he sounded genuine but you could see the smug glint in his eye.
“Take off clothes, you’ve got your dirty sneakers on my bed,” you folded your arms across your chest and watched as he appeased you. “Have you got a condom?”
“In my wallet, yeah. But I left it in my van.”
You got up and went to your wardrobe, opening a drawer and tearing a condom from the roll hidden beneath your underwear. You turned around to face Eddie and saw him watching you from the bed. He had made himself comfortable, stretched out on top of your floral quilt, his hands clasped behind his head. Your eyes trailed over his body, taking in the tattoos that painted his chest and arms, the line of dark hair on his pale stomach that disappeared beneath his boxers, to the hard bulge prominent beneath the checked fabric. 
You handed him the foil packet. “Hope it’s not too big.”
“Ouch, that hit me right in my ego.”
“Like that’s hard,” he moved across the bed as you slipped below the covers. You watched as he pulled his boxers down, his cock hitting his stomach. He was bigger than you’d expected, and his dick was oddly pretty. His hair was neatly trimmed and coarse curls sat at the base, you imagined they’d provide a delicious friction against your clit. The head of his cock was perfectly rounded too, flushed a deep red and leaking at the tip.
“You’re drooling,” he’d rolled the condom on and had dipped below the covers, his thigh pressed against yours.
You realised your lips were parted and you quickly shut them, frowning. “Am not.” You pulled off your underwear and straddled his lap. His cock pressed against your cunt and you ground down. “Shut up.”
“Just saying I’m not opposed to you blowing me.”
“Not happening,” your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and held it steady against your cunt, lifting your hips up so the tip breached your entrance.
“There’s always next time.”
“In your dreams,” you sank down on his length, his cock stretching your walls exquisitely. When you sat flush against his thighs, you could fill the head nudging at the spongy spot deep inside your core.
“This is better than my dreams, believe me,” he gripped your waist, helping you slide up and down on his length. You rolled your hips, changing the angle and he let out a guttural groan. “Fuck, do that again.”
You arched your back, your hips doing most of the work. You reached down, your hand between both your bodies as you rubbed your clit. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off the space between you where your bodies met, watching as his cock slipped and disappeared inside you, only to emerge glistening wet before repeating the motions. “God, I can feel you squeezing around me, fuck, princess, keep doing that.”
“Eddie.” He’d replaced his fingers against your clit with his own, his pace was sloppy and desperate but it was just what you needed. 
“I’ve been thinking about fucking you since we met. God, I’ve dreamt of your pussy but it’s so much better than I ever imagined. It’s magic, sweetheart. You have a magic pussy, I swear.”
His words sent you over the edge, your legs trembling as your hips stilled against him. Eddie bucked into you a few more times before he too came with a shuddered moan. “Fucking hell.”
“Fucking hell,” he agreed, brushed the hair that had again fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear. “You are a devil woman.”
“Me?” 
“Yep," he helped you off his lap, his hand naturally gripping your thigh when you settled onto the mattress next to him. You were pleased to find that his rings did leave little marks against your skin. "Tempting and taunting me with your perfect body. I was an innocent man before I met you.”
Your head fell against his shoulder, watching the rise and fall of his chest. “Innocent? Really?”
“You’re not playing along, you have to play along.”
“Oh sorry,” you cleared your throat. “Now that I’ve put you under my spell I can do whatever I want to you.”
“No, evil sorceress, please don’t use me to satiate your sexual desires. I won’t be a part of your satanic bidding, for I’m just a humble, God fearing farm boy.”
“How much backstory do you have for this character?”
“Too much. We’ll work on it. Get you a pair of devil horns and really flesh it out.”
Eddie stayed for a while, talking to you in hushed whispers long after both sides of the cassette had been played. He ended up crawling through your window just as the sky began to lighten.
“You look tired, honey. What time did you get in last night?” Your mom poured coffee into her mug, frowning at you.
“Not too late,” you pushed cereal around your bowl. “We got sidetracked by a girl who used to be on the cheer team and when I realised the time it was too late to call.”
“Next time, call anyway. It makes me feel better knowing you’re okay,” she patted your shoulder, adjusting the bow on your ponytail. “I hope you had a good time, you need to have fun while you’re still young.”
“I’m sure she had a blast,” Dustin smirked, his eyebrows wiggling. You shot him a questioning look but ignored him like you did most mornings. Once your mom had left the kitchen, Dustin leant across the table. “So I heard something funny last night.”
You kept your expression as neutral as possible but internally you were cringing. “Oh yeah? What did you hear?”
“Kind of sounded like someone falling out a window at 5am.”
“Wow, that’s so weird. Crazy what you hear early in the morning.”
“You had a boy over,” Dustin laughed in a sing-song voice.
You clapped your hand over his mouth and looked wildly around for any indication that your mother was in ear shot. “Shut up, virgin.” His brows furrowed and your expression faltered, you wanted him to be quiet but you hadn’t meant to be mean about it. “Sorry, low blow.”
“You know Suzie is waiting till marriage.”
“Doesn’t help that she’s in Utah.”
Dustin ignored you. “So, who’s the mystery man?”
“Just some guy. Probably won’t see him again.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
After the first time, sneaking around with Eddie became your new favourite hobby. It became a normal part of your day to steal kisses in mop closets, or find hastily written notes stuffed in your locker giving you compliments or asking you to meet him in the woods during your next free period.
What started out as a hot and heavy romance filled with make out sessions and Eddie almost breaking his neck sneaking out of your window slowly turned into movie nights and pancake dates at the diner off I-69. During one such night where Eddie had finally caved to watching Romancing The Stone, he’d introduced you to Uncle Wayne as his girlfriend.
“Girlfriend? When did that happen?” You’d asked in an attempt at a nonchalant tone. Underneath the blanket your heart was pounding.
“A few weeks ago. I figured when you started coming ‘round to watch movies and you weren’t trying to get in my pants there was something more to this than just sex.” He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl on your lap. “Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah. I’m okay with that.”
Since you now had a boyfriend, you wanted to go out and do things on a Saturday night. You hadn’t planned for your night to be spent chaperoning your brother while he hosted Hellfire in the basement, but your mom didn’t trust a group of teenage boys to behave. She had a singles mixer in Indy and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow so she’d left you, the responsible older sister, in charge. At least that meant Eddie was around, even if he’d be spending his evening playing DnD with your younger brother instead of playing adventurer and tavern wench with you in your bedroom. 
“What kind of pizza do you guys want?” You didn’t bother descending the steps instead choosing to poke your head around the basement door and call down the stairs.
“Pepperoni.”
“Extra sausage!” You could guess who called that one out.
“Cheese.”
“Mushroom.”
“Supreme.”
You sighed, descending a few steps so you could see the boys sitting around the table. “I’m going to need a straight answer, it doesn’t work if you just shout different toppings at me.” You were wearing skimpy pyjama shorts and you could feel the boys’ eyes creeping up your bare legs. When you scanned the table Mike and Gareth quickly looked away, their necks flushed red at being caught gawking, but Eddie just smirked, his eyes still stuck on you and his tongue tracing his bottom lip.
“Get two pepperoni, one cheese, and one supreme,” Dustin looked around the table for approval, which he got in the form of nods. “No one wants mushroom pizza, Jeff.”
The problem with Dustin hosting Hellfire was that they’d drank all your soda. You had your head stuck in the fridge trying to find a can of something fizzy to drink when you felt a smack against your ass.
You jumped, hitting your head on the shelf in the fridge. “Jesus Christ.”
“Nope, just me,” you spun around to see Eddie grinning playfully at you. When you frowned, hand pressed against where you’d hit your head, he pouted. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you but your ass was right there.” He pulled you against him by your hips, smoothing your hair flat and pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “There, all better.”
You smiled into his chest, the sharp pain had suddenly disappeared. “What do you want, idiot?”
“Just came to see what the plan is tonight since your mom is away.”
“I think Lucas and Mike are staying over. Might be a little risky.”
“No biggie, I’ll park in the next street and sneak in through your window. Risky is hot.”
“I forgot danger turns you on." You kissed his cheek. "Pretty sure Gareth was checking me out when I came downstairs.”
“Have you seen these shorts you’re wearing? Almost made me cream my pants, Jesus H. Christ.” His hands cupped your ass and squeezed the flesh. “So distracting, you’re throwing me off my game.”
“Since when do you have game?”
“Pshaw, I have game. Got you to sleep with me, didn’t I?”
“But you love me.”
“Mmm, I do.”
Your skin felt like it had been lit on fire. He loves you. You hadn’t said those words to each other yet. It had only been a couple of months since you’d started seeing each other. You thought you felt something like love for him, but you weren't sure. You’d been feeling something deep, something that pulled at your heartstrings, something that made you feel safe.
You pulled back to look at him, searching his eyes for any hint of regret. Maybe he’d misspoke, maybe he was just playing along.
“I do love you,” his hand slipped beneath your sweater and stroked the skin on your lower back, it was like he was grounding himself to the moment. “You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready.”
“I am ready,” you nodded, your hand cupping his cheek. “I love you too, Eddie.”
He dipped his head down to reach your mouth, his lips slotting perfectly against yours. You let out a sigh, relaxing into his body as he sat you on the kitchen counter. Your legs wrapped around his thighs pulling him closer until you could feel a growing hardness pressing between your legs.
“Ew, ew, ew,” your younger brother’s voice shattered your reverie. Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were plummeting back to earth. Your head shot back and you saw Dustin, alongside the rest of the Hellfire gang standing inside the kitchen. “What the fuck?!”
You went to pull your body away but Eddie’s hand on your back kept you in place. “Relax, Dustin,” he spoke steadily, but you noticed his pupils were still blown and he had a dreamy sort of calmness to his expression.
“Relax? You’re devouring my sister. We eat here! What’s going on?”
You hopped down from the counter but stayed close to Eddie’s side, his arm still tightly wrapped around your waist. “We’re dating. We have been for a while.”
“Oh my god,” realisation hit Dustin like a semi truck. “He’s the guy who’s been sneaking into your room at night? She’s the hot chick you’ve been seeing?”
You lightly hit Eddie’s shoulder, “you told them? What did you say?”
Eddie winced, “not a lot.”
“You said you had sex at Lover’s Lake last week!”
You swatted his chest, a little harder this time. “Eddie, oh my god, why would you tell them that.”
Gareth laughed, “ha! We totally thought you’d made that up, that’s awesome.”
Eddie waved his hand dramatically, “see I told you it was cool!” At Dustin’s look of horror he frowned. “I’m sorry, we didn’t think you’d find out this way.”
“We were going to tell you,” you nodded. It was a flat out lie you definitely weren’t planning on telling Dustin anytime soon but he didn’t need to know that.
“When? When I’m bailing you out for public indecency?”
He was not letting this go, you had to pull out the big guns. “Eddie’s coming over for dinner tomorrow. I’m going to introduce him to mom.”
“Oh,” Dustin’s expression changed. He knew you must be serious if you were introducing Eddie to mom, you’d never introduced a boyfriend to your mom before.
“I am?” You stomped on Eddie’s foot and he got the message, “yes, I mean I am. Super excited.”
“And he’s staying over tonight,” you added. Eddie would just have to deal without the sexy addition of risk. You’d much prefer to have him leave via the front door than falling out the window again.
“But they’re staying over tonight,” Dustin gestured to Mike and Lucas.
“And we do not need to hear your weird sex noises,” Lucas chimed in from the sidelines, Mike nodding.
Your eyes widened, “excuse me?”
“Our sex noises are not weird,” Eddie said taking an odd amount of offense to the comment.
“Not what I was going to say, babe. We’re not going to have sex with you lot down the hall.”
“We’re not?” Eddie asked.
At the same time Dustin snidely remarked, “never stopped you before.”
“Dustin, please be cool about this. I know he’s your friend, but we like each other a lot.”
“Yeah, man. Like a lot, a lot.”
Dustin looked between you two, noticing how you’d never pulled apart from each other. “Fine. This is going to take some getting used to but okay. But if you hurt him,” you raised your eyebrows at Dustin, waiting for him to explain how he would exact his revenge on Eddie for hurting his precious older sister, but Eddie was watching you. Your brain reset. He’d said if you hurt him. 
You blinked. “Wait, if I hurt him? What about if he hurts me?”
“You’ll be fine,” Dustin brushed off your concern. “Eddie, however, would never recover if you broke his heart.”
“It’s true princess. I would forever be a broken man.” He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a chaste kiss to the skin.
You sighed in defeat but still squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, I plan on keeping your heart safe for a very long time.”
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Thank you @edwrite-munson for this request! Oh my god guys this fic drained the life out of me please send me some love 💌
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This blog was super helpful in regards to 1980s teen bedroom decor!
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bluerosefox · 4 months
Text
Our Well Deserved Break
Its
Shenanigans (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Time again!~
-x-x-
Danny, our boy the Ghost King, looking over a small team going over relic's given or 'offered' to Pariah Dark over the years both before and after he was sealed away. As they're taking inventory of the chaotic offering room, they stumble across a certain artifact.
This artifact is able to summon a set number of people (it does have its limits) of the users wishes to them and it sets up a barrier around the surrounding place so no one summoned gets out. You know, those kinds of artifact's certain people use to summon heroes and or villains into a room and have them fight to see whose the strongest or for a tournament, Yeah that kind of artifact!
Danny, who found the item, takes a look at after being told what it does. Then out of the corner of his eye he spots himself in a mirror in the room and see's his crown floating above his head and feels the full weight of his responsibility since before and after his crowning. Yes he had help with his advisor, despite how cryptid he can be at times, and of his council but still the weight was a bit too much for a teenager like him.
An idea struck his mind when he hears the ticking of a clock behind him. Without saying a word Danny looks back and raises an eyebrow at Clockwork whose staring at him in silence as well. He glances at the item, tilts his head a bit before...
Smiles in only the way CW knows would both be good for Danny and amusing for him. He nods and says "One weekend should be fine. All timelines will be paused for them. I suggest telling your friends to help prepare for your guests. Enjoy and have fun my King."
"YES!" Danny's voice echoing in the offering room made many ghosts in the room jump for a bit.
This was totally going to be fun!
-x-x-
When the following weekend arrived, young and very stressed teen heroes from across the multiverse are suddenly pulled from their worlds and are summoned into the Infinite Realms. Before any of them can panic or start fights a voice rang out above them and when they looked they could see a young teen, with a crown floating above his head, white hair, and glowing green eyes sitting on a throne.
He smiled and said
"Welcome fellow stressed out Heroes and Heroines to Phantom's Keep! I'm King Phantom, recently crowned fifteen year old, and this is the Infinite Realms! The birth and ending of the multiverse afterlife! Now don't worry none of you are dead or anything like that. I summoned you all here for one reason and one reason only..."
Here Danny paused, just to troll a tiny bit, and could see some of the more tense heroes readying up for a fight or at least argue to let them go. He grinned though and then said.
"And thats.... TO HAVE FUN!"
After that he floated out of his throne and with a flourish in the air he waved his hands and his throne room changed with party decor all around. Tables off to the side appeared with food and drinks from well everywhere and anywhere the multiverse, balloons rose from the ground and floated upwards, streamers flew across above to attach themselves to the other sides, the castle lights shifted to a dim and music began playing from somewhere.
Danny grinned brightly down at them and their shocked faces. oh that's funny, thank goodness Tucker is recording this and Jazz is gonna scrapbook this party for him (she plans on making them for all the guests as a party gift later, you know to remember how fun the party was)
"Now all of you are stressed out teen heroes with a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders! Believe me, I know that feeling, been there done that still doing it even now! But! My advisor says this will be both fun for me and good for you guys to spend one whole weekend here to de-stress and have fun! I do have some ground rules though. One your timelines are in fact PAUSED, you don't have to worry about calling your parents or if you got mentors to let them know where you are at. Two you are all heroes here, many of you are from different worlds and if you are from the same world they already know or CAN be trusted with your real identities but you are NOT required to remove any masks or de-transform or anything like that, if you wish there are masks on that green table over there you can stick on if you want to keep your identities hidden and are spelled to stay on and fuzz the minds of anyone trying to remember your looks once its on, even if they catch a good look at you right now it'll fuzz their memories of you once the mask is on and even after the party don't worry we thought of the time. Three, boys and girls rooms will be at different wings within the Keep! Just ask any of the maid or butler ghosts that will be joining us shortly and they will guide you to the rooms! Fourthly! There are sparing rooms if you wanna test your strengths with others, I only ask please don't get too carried away. We are here to have fun not make enemies! and lastly PLEASE DO NOT try to leave the castle, we are in the very afterlife of the multiverse people, its like the ocean and even I find it hard to navigate it sometimes. Portals can open up to any and all worlds, different timelines, etc etc. I have key items here in the castle that can pinpoint YOUR timeline and world so when the party is over I can send you home no problem, so again please do not attempt to leave."
Danny paused to take a breath, okay ground rules set up and warnings given. He could see the absolute bewildered looks on all the heroes faces and held back a laugh. He smiled however when one of the teens, mask on his face already and dressed in green, yellow, and red asked 'Why?'
"Why? Well... I think its time us teens get to have some fun without worrying about the next big bad or world ending event. Even if just for a weekend, we do deserve a break. So... Lets have some fun for once!" Danny responded.
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harbouredsoulss · 2 years
Text
UNHOLY | DAEMON TARGARYEN
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Did I use the gif of Daemon and Rhaenyra... yes I did. They're both so fucking hot. I don't care how wrong it is. If I believed in hell I'm sure I'd be going there 😅
This fic was inspired by the recent episode of House of the Dragon and Sam Smith's unreleased song 'Unholy'.
Please, please please, do not forget to like, comment and reblog!! 🥰
Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x OC [Elaena Targaryen]
Summary: A secret rendezvous between a Prince and Princess. What more could you want?
Warnings: 18+; incest (sorry?); sex; penetration; unprotected sex; minor mention of blood; oral sex; mention of bodily fluids; teasing
I also want to add that I used a website for the High Valyrian, so I apologise in advance if it is incorrect.
AO3 link
Word Count: 2.8k words
There was a charge of electricity that sizzled between the Prince and Princess, the anticipation almost palpable. They stood across from one another, gaze never faltering, the vacant iron throne their only witness.  
It was late in the evening, the sconces on the walls burned dimly, casting shadows across their faces.
Her eyes, a violet light, guiding him. 
The princess had escaped her room, guards none the wiser. 
She had evaded them at every turn, with their voices too loud, footsteps a thunder with every step taken; no doubt which path they would take.
Though if she were to be found, unaccompanied by her Kingsguard, it wouldn’t come as much of a surprise. She was known to been found on many occasions traveling empty halls, reading in odd places, the novelty of finding her unchaperoned, wearing off as the years went by. 
Except tonight was different, for tonight had purpose. 
There was no aimless wandering, marvelling at the surrounding view of the keep, the endless library offering no more a temptation than that of the kitchens. Her interest for the evening had already been garnered. 
It was a note left by her bedclothes, written on a piece of cloth, a scrawl of writing requesting her presence, no signature at the bottom.
There needn’t be a name for she knew who called for her. 
It was agony waiting for time to pass, letting her lady’s maid wash and clothe her, all the while pretending to grow weary with sleep. 
As the evening went by, and the castles inhabitants wound down for the night, Elaena found herself readying to leave her chambers. 
It didn’t take much to prepare as she went dressed as she was, taking a robe as a sort of shield and source of warmth, given the corridors of the keep grew especially cool of the evenings. 
Her aim now was to leave undetected. 
Men of the Kingsguard remain posted outside her chamber door throughout the night, protecting her from those who may mean her harm, yet they also protect her from herself and any shenanigans that may befall her. Tonight, it was Ser Harrold Westerling who stood guard. 
It was often Ser Harrold that lingered when she couldn’t sleep, following her about the castle, making sure she did not find herself in any trouble.
For many reasons, this being but one, brought them closer, brokering a trust that wounded her to break.  
Familiarity aside, Ser Harrold could not know where she went this night. 
Much to her surprise, there was a secret entrance, one her conspirator made clear was there, hidden in her chambers, the details written in the note they had left. It concerned her to think of a secret door having been there all along whilst she has remained none the wiser. 
The hidden passage, not too difficult to find, was dimly lit, the torches on the walls offering little in the way of light. The cool, frigid air howled all around her, skin turning to gooseflesh, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. It did little to deter her or to wane the excited she felt humming through her. She was more than ready to reach her destination. 
The map, if it could be as called such, what with it having been scrawled roughly on the scrap of cloth, guided her perfectly, though she felt the journey was never ending. A sigh of relief escaped, just as her path was met with a door, one that stood ajar.
Voices, that of drunken guards, drifted through, alerting her of passers-by, beseeching her to bide her time till they had passed. 
It took only a moment or two of silence before she declared the coast clear. Stepping out from the darkened passageway, she found herself illuminated in the light of the great hall, the iron throne a stone throw away. 
“I see you found your way,” a familiar voice called out. 
There was a figure perched on the throne, face obscured by shadow, the flames of light illuminating just enough for her to see it was The Rogue Prince awaiting her arrival. Elaena took a hesitant step closer, surveying the space around them, making sure they were truly alone. 
“Issa sepār ao se nyke.” It is just you and I
Daemon Targaryen pulled himself to his feet stalking his way towards his princess. 
He stood before her now, back to the iron throne, mouth quirking to the side, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, the necklace that adorned it shining dimly in the light. 
He drew closer, each step an echo in the empty hall, eyes never straying from hers. 
“What a beautiful Jewell,” he whispered, fingers thumbing the Valyrian steel, “the person who gifted you such a thing, must think very highly of you.”
Elaena stood as still as her body would allow, doing her best to control her breathing. 
“An admirer indeed,” she answered in turn, a gasp escaping as his finger teased the tender flesh of her chest.
He smiled wickedly, the corners of lips rising. 
Spreading his fingers out, Daemon discarded the necklace, turning his attention to where he could feel the steady rhythm of her heart, the blood of the dragon thrumming through her veins. 
Flexing his fingers, Daemon moved them lower, thumb kneading the softness of her skin. 
Her heart beat quickened, thudding, harder and stronger against the cage of her ribs, as his touch lingered. 
Fingers merely an inch from the curve of her breast, Daemon delighted in teasing her flesh; pinching and kneading as he went along.
Her robe a disastrous shield, bared to him the thinness of her night dress, the exposed buds of her breasts, hardened by the rawness of the night. There was no fire to mind the cold, the heat of each other’s bodies their only source of warmth.
Maintaining her gaze, Daemon eased his thumb lower, rubbing against her hardened nipple, teasing and tugging, forcing a whine to escape the princess as pleasure spiked right through to her core.
Both their eyes widening as the sound echoed around them.
The thought of the guards – anyone happening upon her in this state of undress, so exposed – drove him wild. The attention-seeker, deep down inside of him, wanting them to be found. 
Elaena looked down at the hand caressing her breast, watching his attentions, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the situation.  
Pleasure wasn’t novel to her, she had sought it on numerous occasions either on her own or in a pleasure house, but with Daemon it was something profound. Each time always like the first.
“It’s… madness.” She managed to uttered, voice husky with desire.
She struggled to find her words, thoughts growing more erratic as her lover inflicted his attentions further, bringing his lips to her breast, tongue teasing her through the thin fabric of her shift. She was being driven mad.
There didn’t seem to be much room for coherent thought. 
Daemon used his tongue to tease the Princess, suckling her sweetly, using his unoccupied hand to venture up the column of her neck to the expanse of her jaw, gently prying her lips open, slipping two fingers inside. 
Wetness pooled between her thighs as she swirled her tongue around the pad of his fingers, sucking and biting them lightly. 
“Iksis bisa skoros jaelā?” Is this what you want? He asked. 
Daemon’s voice a steady rasp against her flesh.
He slipped his finger from her lips, smearing saliva across them, leaving a trail across her cheek, down her neck and back to her breasts, swirling carefully around the perked nipple. 
“Kostilus.” Please. She begged.
Her whimper was enough to undo him. His plans to savour her – this moment – almost ruined. All by the sound of her neediness. 
Eyes boring into hers, Daemon brought himself to his knees. He grabbed the hem of her shift lifting and gripping it tight in his fist, the wet between her thighs exposed.
He stared, mesmerized, and leaned his face closer; lips close enough to touch.
He breathed in deep, taking in the musky scent of her.  
Elaena was sure her face burned red, cheeks warming at the sight before her, mortified by what he was doing.
Out of the many men she had taken to bed none had shown her this close attention. Daemon had never done so in the past. It was a first for them.
His name, a moan on her lips as he used his tongue to tickle the flesh above her clitoris, fingers, two of them, teasing the seam of her, rubbing her slickness all around. As she looked down, she could see the hardness of him, straining against his pants, begging for attention. 
She longed to have him – taste him. 
A whine escaped her as he inserted his two fingers, introducing her to a steady pace, pumping inside and out, thumb rubbing lazy circles on her clit. All of his attention focused on finding that secret spot inside, one he hoped to become very well acquainted with. 
Elaena was a mess as Daemon continued his torment, fucking her slowly with his fingers. 
She gripped the back of his head, tendrils of icy blonde hair, tangled in her fingers as she kept him close.
He managed to maintain his cunning smile, his wicked, ever-present grin never faltering. His tongue caught between his teeth as he looked up at her, admiring the reaction he elicited with his touch. 
“Kostilus.” She begged again. 
Much too soon a feeling of emptiness found her as Daemon withdrew his fingers. He brought them to his lips, relishing the taste of her. 
Elaena watched on in an overwhelming haze brought on by her impending gratification; her climax begging and clawing at her now, demanding release. 
“Come,” he commanded, bringing himself to his feet.
She took his hand, allowing him to tug her toward the Throne. He sat down carefully, manoeuvring himself in a way that would avoid the sharpened blades that made up the Iron Throne. She kept his gaze, watching as he made himself comfortable.
They were silent for a moment, Daemons heated gaze washing over her. Moving his hand beneath his trousers he took hold of his cock, rubbing it up and down slowly, teasing himself before her. 
Elaena watched on, bottom lip caught between her teeth, hands itching to take his place. Wanting more than anything to be the source of his pleasure.
He released his cock, freeing it from the confines of his trousers and beckoned her forward with the tilt of his head, a silent invitation.
Arousal slicked between the apex of her thighs, desire begging her to move forward, and mount her prince. 
Looking over her shoulder, wanting to be careful, Elaena made sure they were alone. Afraid of what would happen if they were found, less afraid of fucking him on the Iron Throne. 
 “Iksā ȳgha” you are safe, he assured, eyeing their surroundings carefully. 
She made to move towards him, her decision having already been made the moment she agreed to meet him after dark. 
He held out his hand, guiding her closer.
“Take off your robe.”
An easy command, one she had no qualms in following. Elaena eased the heavy material from her shoulders and offered it to him. He wrapped it around his back, lifting his bottom half up, doing his best to be shield them both from the sharpness of the blades. 
His thoughtfulness tugged at her, the love she had for him intensifying – her love already regarded as limitless, ever expanding, in that moment, overpowered every fibre of her being. 
Carefully she begun to straddle his waist, griping the hem of her dress, allowing it to pool at her waist. He placed her hands on his chest, squeezing them gently, guiding her, just before letting go. An unspoken offer of assurance. 
“Avy jorrāelan, ñuha dōna,” I love you, my sweet.
Daemon cupped the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer. 
They sat like that for a moment, taking in the erotic scene before them. Daemon’s cock lined against the seam of her, rubbing gently, up and down, coating itself in the slickness of her. Biting her lip Elaena let a groan escape as he guided himself inside her, finally giving in.
She threw head back, the throes of pleasure overwhelming – driving Daemon wild. 
Elaena squeezed her eyes, a faint hiss escaping her lips as he guided her down, engulfing his length. He fucked her slowly, trying to build a rhythm they could both enjoy. Her pleasure just as valuable as his own.
He eased himself, inside and out, unhurried, and ignorant of her pleas, enjoying the unhurried pace he chose to set.
Daemon moved his hand to where they joined, palm flush against her stomach, thumb rubbing circles furiously, placing all his attention on her sex. 
She quivered in his arms, voice hoarse, pleasure drenching every sound that escaped her. 
Blood rose where her nails scarred his skin, Elaena’s lust manifesting through her hands, marking him. 
Daemon quickened their pace, the sound of skin on skin, echoing throughout the hall, the sound bound to alert any guard patrolling nearby.  
“I’m… I’m... fuck.”
She was at a loss for words. 
Meeting him, thrust for thrust, bucking wildly as his cock found the right place, nestled deep inside her.
Hard to find if ignorant, effortless if one took care. He found her point of release, taking her hard, with every whimper and moan she threw his way, bringing her to the precipice of release. 
His own pleasure mirrored her own, his composure threatening to crack as the heat of her tortured, clamping down around him. 
Drunken laughter, barely perceptible, reached Daemons ears. He did not slow his pace, determined to bring her the release she desperately craved.
Instead, a plan began forming in his mind, as he gripped her waist, preparing himself to stand, only stalling his thrusts to take her with him as he stood.
He swallowed her shriek in a sloppy kiss, refusing to allow her to draw attention to their antics. He slid out of her, placing her on unsteady legs.
The sudden absence caused her to whine and pout her lips.
He eyed her playfully, clucking his tongue. 
“You’re a greedy thing, aren’t you.”  
Not allowing for a response he grabbed her hand leading her swiftly and silently, to where she had entered, the door of the secret passage hidden by shadows in the far-off corner of the hall. It offered enough protection should someone enter to investigate.
He backed her onto the door, one hand gripping in his lovers, the other lifting her shift, exposing the apex of her thighs, her glistening sex taunting him. 
“Come…” she whispered, voice husky – breathless, “finish what you started.”
He let go of her hand, all but driven to madness, and gripped her backside, the palm of both hands kneading her softly. She wrapped a leg around his waist, tugging him closer.
“Jaelan aōha orvorta iemnȳ nyke.” I want your cock inside me.
There was no hesitation.
Daemon lifted her roughly, wrapping her legs around his waist. 
“Gaomagon ziry aōla.” Do it yourself.
Biting her lip Elaena rose to the challenge and gripped his length in her hand and used the other to squeeze his arse and pull him closer, guiding him back home. 
He fucked her relentlessly – almost furiously, intent on finishing what they had started. 
Their lips lingered close to one another, their ragged breaths mingling, fanning across their faces.  
“Iksā ñuhon.” You are mine. 
He liked to remind her of that when they were like this, rutting against one another like animals, his cock buried deep inside, both of them feral for one another’s touch. 
The declaration always gave her chills, the reminder never needed, yet craved deeply. 
Daemon brought her closer to her climax, the need to own her release almost turning him into an animal. 
It was oft a beautiful, messy thing, watching her release. Her eyes were often scrunched tightly, gaze avoidant as it washed over her.
Though not this time. This time her eyes remained wide and defiant as she held his gaze. Her voice was hoarse, moans of pleasure turned to whispers, teeth digging into the skin of her lip, blood threatening to spill. Daemon found it mesmerising. 
He slipped out, finishing himself on her stomach, the heat of his release sticking to skin and cloth alike. A smile tugged at her lips as she looked down taking in the mess he had left, and looked back up meeting his heated gaze. 
They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, chests heaving, bodies convulsing, vision foggy – moving in and out of focus. Their releases washing over them. 
Him holding her.
“You, Daemon Targaryen, are mine.”
And to him, truer words had never been spoken. 
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lab1rynth · 10 months
Text
YAN!LUST
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Yan!Lust who you met around a decade after you got sent to hell, there was 7 rings which had been ruled by the 7 sins, one for each ring. Depending on the sin you had most committed, you had been banished to that ring.
Yan!Lust who you first see in a large bar he had owned, strippers and horny people flooded the floors, yet the large king had been left alone, no one dare step within 10 feet of him. Calling him large was a understatement. He was 11 feet tall, probably taller, his large platforms making him even taller. His head was replaced with a charred ghost skull with gold highlights, a fur scarf wrapped around where his neck would have been. He had two sets of arms, which were uncovered as he was wearing a white virgin killer and black pants, which shone bright against his pitch black skin that had matched the color of the skull.
Yan!Lust who you were honestly quite scared of at first, you knew his status and his power, and you weren't willing to catch his eye. Though as you drank more and more, and started to match the careless energy around you, you decided to walk up to him and flirt with him, leaning against his chair with a drunken smirk.
Yan!Lust who looked down at you, bringing one of his hands up to his chest as he gasped, he was also quite drunk and had been shocked someone walked up to him, "What are you doing, Little Sinner?" He asked, his voice quite deep as he spoke. The mouth of the skull moving as he spoke. You explained to him, "Hell, I'm drunk and dead and at the moment I don't give a shit about what happens to me. So you want to show me why you're the embodiment of lust?"
Yan!Lust who that night, after much flirting between you and him, had led you to one of the rooms where costumers would do as they pleased with the strippers, he locked the door before you both started what you both would be doing for the rest of the night. He had stamina, and wasn't exactly vanilla, though you had expected that. He's literally Lust, you'd be quite stupid if you expected anything less.
Yan!Lust who you stuck around, he wanted to keep it at a one night stand but you decided against it. You thought you had some sort of say in it, as if he didn't have sex with multiple sins a day and was a lot more powerful than you. He was the first sin, the origin of sin, he was quite a bit more powerful, as there's no sin without lust, bloodlust, lust for money, lust for sex, lust for power, it goes on.
Yan!Lust who figures you aren't leaving anytime soon, you quickly walk next to him and talk on and on as he slightly walks and looks forward. It happened a lot, you continuing to go on about random things as he ignored you, or at least you thought he did. That was until one day you asked a question, and he responded with a thing you had told him a few weeks ago. To say you were surprised he listened (let alone remembered), would be an understatement.
Yan!Lust who started talking to you a lot more after around 3 months, which if you were alive would be around 3 hours. Lust had told you how hell worked, it was made to torture all of the inhabitants that came from earth, those who were born in hell had been tortured, yet less than earth-borns, and those who ruled, as he did, performed this torture as much as possible.
Yan!Lust who lets you basically do whatever you want, you sit on his lap as he sits on his throne, when he's telling someone off your next to him roasting the shit out of the person. You drink, talk, fuck and party as much as you please. Well, you would've done the same before, but at least now you can do it knowing you aren't going to get murdered or something.
Yan!Lust who actually started to be quite laid back, yet clingy. He started talking more and joining in on some of your shenanigans, he had also taught you how to poll dance and how to use Aerial Silk! He was always at least two feet away from you, touching you, and had you in his sights.
Yan!Lust who, after one eventful night, you found missing from beside you on his bed. His door was locked and you had no tools to open the lock. So, you had decided just to look around, looking through his wardrobe, and through his drawers; going through a drawer in his bedside table and finding a strange collection of stuff of yours, nothing you gave to him, but small shit you'd lost. You let out a small laugh, closing the drawer before jumping onto the bed and turning on the TV.
Yan!Lust busted into the room a few hours later, dramatically sighing as he fell back next to you onto the bed, "Sorry Mouse, there was something happening with Lucifer and I couldn't have you come with me," He hummed, playing with your hair as you climbed onto his chest, burying your face between his breasts as he brought a hand up to play with your hair.
Yan!Lust who after a few minutes, you looked up at with a small smile, "So when do you plan on giving my shit back?" You asked, leaning your head onto your hand, "Maybe if you beg enough," He laughed out, making you pout. He brought up a hand and poked at your lip, stopping you from pouting, "I dont think you need them back anyway, since you're living with me now," You had let out a gasp and rolled off of him, "Since when?" - "Since you literally stopped going to your old house and sleeping in my bed," oh, yeah.
Yan!Lust who starts locking you in his room more often, cooking for you,getting you stuff, and moving you around like a little doll. Treating you like you belong to him. He barely lets you outside anymore. Though at this point you dont really care, you're being spoilt by a demonic king for the rest of eternity! Why would you care?
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kiiwiigii · 9 months
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The Red-Eyed Boy pt. i
Pt. Two | Three | Outtake
Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader
Summary: When Edward goes to the Volturi seeking death he accidentally exposes Bella's sister. Not taking any chances Alec is sent to finish you.
Warnings:
I haven't written ff in forever soooo...
Also I have trouble with the whole Y/N thing.
Language
Kinda, sorta NSFW I guess? Lot's of kissing.
Word Count: 1,938
A/N: Alec is aged up.
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Aro let his mouth twist into a cruel smirk. Apparently, the Swan girl was dead, a sad waste of possible talent he lamented silently, but what was done was done. Edward had had no intention of turning her anyway, so what did it matter?
However, there had been another problem that Edward hadn't meant to expose.
Her sister.
"NO!" Edward shouted. "No! No, she's not aware. She doesn't know-"
"Now, now Edward. We cannot take chances, you know this. The girl already has her suspicions."
Edward's face crumpled into a half snarl. Going to the Volturi for your own death was one thing, but not only had he been denied this sweet relief, he had sentenced another to death. Surely he could get them to understand that Y/N was completely in the dark. Sure she had suspicions but that was just it. Suspicions. And aside from a few shopping trips with Alice (in which Alice had to practically drag Y/N out of the house in an attempt to get to know her better) she had stayed relatively far away. What Bella should have done, he thought with a cringe.
"Alec." Aro called over his shoulder.
Alec was at his master's side in less than a second, staring blankly ahead and awaiting orders.
"You are to head the Swan household in Forks. Take care of Bella's sister."
"Of course Master."
Alec gave a bow before sharing a look with his own sister and heading out of the throne room; Edward's renewed attempt at talking Aro into sparing the other Swan girl's life fading away ever so slightly. He couldn't help but smirk. Fresh blood that didn't have to be delivered. A chance to hunt. Maybe he would play with his food before he finished her off. Make her run. Make her beg. Or perhaps... a different kind of begging. A begging brought on with kisses and meaningless words whispered in her ear. His smirk twisted into a smile. There were always different ways to play, right?
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Dad,
I'm with Alice. Edward's in trouble. You can ground me when I get back. I know it's a bad time. So sorry. Love you so much.
Bella
"You gotta be fucking kidding me."
With a groan I let the letter slip from my fingers and back to its original place on the kitchen counter. I knew Bella was still healing, but never in my wildest dreams did I picture her dropping everything and just taking off for the boy who dumped her.
I paused, leaning against the counter with my head in my hands, wondering if I should just go ahead and call dad or wait to break the news to him when he got home. On the one hand if I called him now, it would distract him from his job... however if I didn't tell him now and he finds out I knew before he got home, I could possibly land myself in hot water and get grounded myself. And oh boy was Bella going to get grounded. Probably for the rest of the year if not her life.
She probably figured I'd find the letter first and would butter dad up anyways. Soften the blow that his eldest daughter went missing with a barely half-assed explanation. Well, she would be wrong about the latter at least. She'd be dealing with dad by herself on that one. As much as I loved her, I didn't want to be mixed up in her shenanigans.
Mind made up, I picked up my cell to make the dreaded call, and as expected dad picked up on the first ring.
"Uh, hey dad..."
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I'm dreaming of him again. The boy with the red eyes.
He was standing in front of a familiar house, just watching. Waiting. I could see it in his eyes as they flicked back and forth. He was contemplating something, his head tilting just slightly as he took in the sloping roof and the off-white siding that was in severe need of cleaning. A truck and police car rested in its driveway, silent and empty.
My heart leapt. Why was he in front of my house? I'd dreamt of this boy plenty of times before, but never had he been in my own yard. Or anywhere I was even familiar with.
Instead, he was usually shrouded by a fine black mist. Sometimes, if I was lucky enough, he would simply be doing something rather mundane, like reading a book or walking in a garden. Other times my dreams would be rather violent, and I could hear the screaming of his victims as he ripped them to shreds. Then there was the girl that usually stood by his side. If the boy was violent, she was easily a hundred times worse. It was like watching a horror movie come to life and I couldn't close my eyes. I found that I didn't want to close my eyes. He was fascinating to me.
Or maybe it's because I'm a weird and sick individual.
He circled around to the back of the house now, his eyes trailing upwards until they landed on the second-floor window, a smirk beginning to curl on his lips.
My window.
I woke up with a gasp, clutching at my sheets.
What the fuck?
My imagination was finally getting away from me.
I couldn't help but look towards my window, still tightly shut and locked, only the soft glow of fairy lights winking back at me. Untangling myself from my sheets, I slipped from my bed and plodded over to the window. Nothing's out there, I thought. It's a stupid dream. They've all been stupid dreams. The red-eyed boy doesn't exist, Y/N. I unlocked the window and pushed it upwards before sticking my head out and looking around. Of course, I couldn't see worth shit but I squinted my eyes anyway, you know, just in case it would help me see better.
The yard was dark and empty. No handsome, red-eyed boys anywhere to be found.
I almost breathed a sigh of relief before a loud jingle broke through the silence, causing me to jump and slam my head into the window.
"Fuck." I hissed, cradling the spot that I could now feel a nice bruise forming.
It took me a moment to realize that the jingle was coming from my phone. Scrambling towards my dresser I managed to trip on the sheets I'd thrown off just minutes ago and go crashing to the floor. Tonight was just not my night. Despite my new entanglement, I reached up and managed to grab my phone, flipping it open without looking at the caller ID.
"Y/N? Y/N?" The voice on the other end was frantic.
Bella. I finally let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, the tension easing from my shoulders for the first time in days.
"Who else would it be?"
Despite my irritation and anger from her stunt I couldn't help but crack a grin as relief flooded through me. She was safe. I could already feel the hysterical laughter bubbling up. But that was quickly quashed as a new voice spoke from behind me.
"You're just as clumsy as your dear sister."
I whirled around and promptly dropped the phone as my eyes took in the dark figure standing at my feet. He was beautiful. Sinfully so. Dressed in all black, his pale skin stood out all the more. Agonizingly perfect and flawless, with dark hair sweeping across his forehead. And his eyes. Oh those eyes. My dreams didn't do them justice. Didn't do any piece of him justice.
"You." I breathed; eyes wide.
He suddenly tensed as our eyes met.
"You." He repeated.
Before I could blink, he was right before me, a gloved hand cradling my face. My mind was going haywire, trying to comprehend just what was happening. What was this pull I was feeling? What is this warmth? Did he feel it too?
"Your eyes." I whispered.
He arched a brow in amusement. "What of them?"
"They're beautiful. Like- like rubies." I stuttered quietly, feeling myself flush. "Am- am I dreaming again?"
Now both brows shot up. He probably thought I was crazy. And at this point he would be right. The boy that I had literally been dreaming about since I was a child was right in front of me.
"Y/N!"
The faraway crackle of my phone pulled me back to reality and I slowly picked it up, watching the boy in front of me. He made no move to stop me, only brushing a cool thumb across my cheek.
Wait, when had he lost the glove?
"I- I'm here."
"Did you hear anything I said?"
It was Alice Cullen
"Er- no."
"Listen," Alice began hurriedly. "I know this a lot to take in, but Alec isn't going to hurt you. It's- mates are a complicated thing in the vampire world."
"I'm sorry, what now?" I blinked rapidly as I tried to process what she was saying.
There was a low growl before I felt the phone being taken from my hands gently. I would be lying if that growl hadn't sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
"Cullen. Given your talent I think you would know that Y/N is perfectly safe with me." He leaned in as he tilted my head back, his nose running along my neck. "She is my mate after all."
My breath hitched at not only his words but the little nips and licks he began to trail along my neck, cool against my flushed skin. Oh gods, this could not be legal.
"Please inform Aro that Bella's sister will be coming to stay with us soon."
With a click he snapped the phone shut and molded his lips mine. I was pretty sure that my heart was about to beat out of my chest. Finally, he let me come back up for air with a small nibble on my bottom lip and burying his face back into my neck, his hands running down my sides in a slow caress.
"So- so you're Alec?"
He let out an actual purr at the sound of his name. "Say it again."
"You know people usually introduce themselves before making out right?"
There was a growl in response, and I almost let out a moan. Oh fuck, please stop doing that. It was doing weird things to my body.
"Alec."
He lifted himself up to look at me again, eyes no longer that beautiful ruby red but nearly pitch black. He kissed me again and again, swiping his tongue along my lower lip before delving into my mouth with a hunger that shot heat straight between my legs. This time I moaned. He chuckled as he pulled away, placing light kisses along my jaw until he reached my ear and nibbling yet again. Lord did this boy like to nibble.
"I will be back, mio cara."
Suddenly he disappeared just as my door opened and my dad stood there looking rather alarmed. I just blinked at him in a daze.
"I heard voices." He grumbled, looking for all the world like he had just rolled out of bed... which he had.
I felt my face heat back up, trying to figure out exactly what he had heard and trying to come up with an excuse.
"Uhm. I heard from Bella!"
For once my sister saved the day.
NEXT
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