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kleem-o · 10 months

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Dragon hybrid!Bakugou x Reader

part 2

Synopsis: You and Bakugou are now getting used to life together. Will you finally find out that he sees you as his mate? As you both roam the festival will you both know each other’s true feelings? Be careful though danger lurks around the corner. Warning; nsfw? Part 2 to this

Wc: 1.9k

A/N: Hii! Thank you all for the support!! Here’s part 2 sorry it took so long lol I just finished with my school work. Hope you enjoy!

You were sleeping peacefully, dreaming lightly, when you felt something soft nudge your cheeks. “Wake..up” You groaned as a complaint and turned the other way to continue your soothing slumber. “Wake up” Now you feel someone laying on top of you, soft clouds tickling your neck. You start giggling and slowly open your eyes. It was Bakugou, cuddling on top of you, forcing you to wake up. He started playfully biting shoulder, then started giving kitten licks on your jaw. “I’m up! I’m up” You laughed as you continued feeling ticklish by Bakugou’s playful licks and bites. “Ab..out time..” Bakugou huffed and pouted as he helped you get started on the day.

Your day with Bakugou usually started with eating together. You would usually be the one cooking, but lately Bakugou began to enjoy cooking. He would always take the ingredients from you and start cooking. You offered many times to help, even in cutting the vegetables but he would simply dismiss you and say “Too danger..ous.. I cook.” He would make little explosions in his hand to start the fire, and you never fail to stare in awe. When eating he would look at you expectantly, and you would always praise his cooking “Mmmm! The flavors are melting on my tongue! You’re really great at cooking Bakugou!” He would blush at your words and shyly avoid looking at you while he ate his food. “Eat.. well.”

After eating, you both would do your chores, while you used to go look for food, he would now do it in your stead. When he comes back after hunting and foraging, he would immediately go to your side to help you in whatever you were doing. “Let me.. Help” He would say as he tries to get the sheets you were washing from your hands “Nooo! Its okay Bakugou! I can do this okay? You already went hunting for us” But he is ever so stubborn and still helps you by washing the remaining sheets and clothes. As you were washing sheets on a basin, looking at the bubbles gave you an idea. You took a bit of the soap foam bubbles and suddenly placed it on top of his nose. The look of confusion he gave you, as if you were going crazy, made you laugh loudly. He looked at you as if you grew two heads, he removed the bubbles on his nose, and placed some on yours. You continued laughing and he looked at you confused before slowly chuckling himself. “Weird Y/N”

After your chores, you both would prepare for your little study session. Ever since Bakugou became part of your home, you would teach him how to read, write, and speak your language. It was admittedly difficult at first, but he learns fast and soon enough you could talk to him with ease. Although there are still words he doesn’t know and he still finds some words difficult to say due to his dragon tongue. “Y/N..what is.. This.?” You would teach him the things he didn’t know, and if you had questions about him, he did his best to answer. “Umm so Bakugou.. That time we met, why were you..hurt?” He looked up to you “I.. don’t remember”

“Oh.. I’m sorry.”

“Its okay”

“Well, where did you come from Bakugou?”

“Somewhere far”

“Do you want to go back to your home?”

He looked you in the eye and said in a gentle yet serious tone “You are my home” You blushed at his words and quickly returned to writing stuff for him. After your little session with him, you would eat then take a bath separately. You started taking baths separately ever since you saw his.. Well you know. After the fresh bath, it's off to bed for both of you. Though you both took a bath already, he would snuggle real close to you and begin rubbing himself on you. At first you found it weird, but it was oddly relaxing so you just let him do his thing. Little did you know he was actually scenting you. And just like that both of you would fall asleep in each other's arms.

This was now the routine for both of you daily. Today while you were both studying, basking in the comfortable silence surrounding both of you, you suddenly got an idea. “Bakugouu” you say as you lean on his arm. He turned to you blushing slightly “What..?” You smiled at him and asked “Would you like to go to the village with me? There will be a festival there tonight! Lots of delicious food, pretty lights, fun games.. Oh! And there will be a firework display!”

“Fire..work..??”

“It's basically some pretty fire in the sky!... i think.. Anyway, it seems fun and you’ve never been to the village before.. So what do you say?”

Bakugou seemed to think about it for a while. “Oh but if you’re not comfortable with it then its okay! I’ll make sure to bring you back some good stuff” He looked lost at thought then finally spoke “Would they not be.. sc.ared of me..?” He looked at you with puppy eyes and you swore you felt your heart skip a bit. “Hmm.. well I can’t speak for everyone..haha..” “You were sc-ar..ed of me..” “Well yeah! You were going to attack me!” ”...S..orry..”

You suddenly felt bad, you knew that he was probably just trying to protect himself “hey.. Don’t feel too bad it wasn’t your fault” “I’ll go.. I want to go.. To fes..tivul" “Oh great!! Don’t worry I’ll protect you okay” You raised your arm to flex your non-existent muscles and Bakugou laughed. He thinks that you are the most fragile thing in the world. You both were preparing to go to the village, Bakugou told you that he didn’t want others to know that he was a dragon hybrid so you went and gave him a long haori to hide his tail. You told him that the others will just think of his horns as a headpiece as others would be wearing masks and such. You both went to the village and Bakugou was stunned by the beautiful lights and cheery people. You went to some food booths and bought food for the both of you. “Here say ahhh!” He looked at you before opening his mouth and you fed him. He was very flustered but it went away quickly as he tasted the food you gave him “it..s good.” As you both ate he made a mental note to remember the spices and tastes to improve his cooking.

You both roamed around the festival and found a good and secluded place to sit to watch the fireworks. As you both were waiting for the fireworks Bakugou knew that this would be the time to tell you, his mate, what he feels for you. Slowly he held your face to look at him. “Hmm? What's wrong?” He looked at you, his eyes serious with a glint of softness for you. “I…need to tell you s..omething.” You felt your heart race as you looked at him, a soft blush engulfing your features.

“I like you.. No I love you.. mate” He said as he gently smiled. The way he held you was like you were the most precious thing in the world, and to him, you were. You both looked at each other for a while, he suddenly felt nervous because you weren’t responding, did you not like him back? Was he just imagining all the soft touches between the two of you? The gentle words and the soft looks? Just as he was about to pull away you suddenly moved. You came closer and closer to him.. Barely any space between the two of you.

“I love you too”

You closed the space between the two of you with a soft kiss. Bakugou closed his eyes and deepened the kiss.

His hands tangled in your hair, your hands holding onto his broad shoulders. Soft moans were coming from the both of you. He pulled you in closer and you let yourself be engulfed in his warmth. You felt his tongue drag across your bottom lip, asking for access. You opened your mouth and his tongue explored yours. You felt lightheaded, as if everything was melting. The kiss was getting passionate, too much if you suppose, as both your tongues fought for dominance, his long tongue winning for sure, a low growling coming from him. You were getting handsy as your hands went to his chest. He pulled you on top of his lap and started grinding you on his hardening length. You were beginning to moan loudly and his growling and purring got louder as well. You pulled away from the passionate kiss, a string of saliva connecting both of you, panting, you said “Bakugou please..” He growled and made you lie down then-

Boom

Bakugou looked up in surprise and covered your body to protect you. It was the fireworks. You giggled and told him that it was harmless “Look Bakugou! Look at all the pretty colors!” He slowly looked up and saw what seemed to be dancing colors in the dark sky. He looked in awe as it was his first time seeing it. You hugged him while you both watched the sky. “Let’s come here at every festival okay?” “hmm” Bakugou hummed in approval as he watched the sky. He turned to look at you and kissed your cheeks. “You.. prettiest” You laughed and said “You mean prettier?” “No, prettiest” You blushed and knew right then, Bakugou has your entire heart and soul.

The walk back home was very comforting as you both held hands, his thumb caressing yours. You couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier and what would happen if the fireworks didn’t take both of you in surprise. You wondered what this meant for both of you from now on. Would things between you change? Little did you know Bakugou also couldn’t stop thinking about the events earlier. He cursed himself for being startled by the pretty lights in the sky. But now that both of you knew each others’ feelings, Bakugou knew that he was yours and you were his. You were now both laying down on the bed and cuddling, your head on his chest while he played with your hair. Surprisingly after what happened earlier you both weren’t doing anything naughty. “Bakugou?” “Ye..ss mate?” You blushed at the name. “Since, I’m your mate now.. Is there anything else that I should know? Like, what dragons do and stuff?” Bakugou thought about it for a while. “Nothing for now.. I tell you when time come..s” Bakugou had already thought about all the things he had to teach and prepare you for, his heat isn’t coming yet, but you had to be ready to take all of him in. At first he was wary if you wanted him, but after what happened earlier he got reassured. You weren’t scared of him anymore. You both drifted to sleep waiting excitedly for the next days to come.

“Hmm..?” You were disturbed from your sleep by sounds coming outside. You checked if Bakugou was awake and to your surprise he was still asleep. Usually he was first to notice these types of things. You hesitantly got up, still tired and sleepy, to go and check the sounds outside. As you stepped outside and looked there was nothing there. You were about to go back inside when someone hit you at the back of your head. You fell down, the last thing you saw were people entering your home. You had to warn Bakugou! But as you tried to open your mouth your eyes felt heavy. You lay on the ground unconscious.

Here is Part 3 !

A/N: heyy!! Thanks for bearing with me lol i think this chapter was too long but i hope you enjoyed it! I almost went straight ahead with the smut lol i’ll probably be making another part since if i included the next events this part might get too long. Thank u all for waiting and thank u for the support!! Feel free to ask!

taglist: @pyromaniacslove @misscaller06 @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic

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yandere-wishes · 6 months

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Hot Take

But has anyone ever stopped to think about the Damsel in Distress? Has anyone ever considered the feelings of the princess locked away in a tower? We all like to make fun of the Damsel in Distress trope but has anyone in the last 100 years stopped to think about how she feels? How worthless she thinks she is because she can't get herself out of that dreaded tower. She can't save herself, she's powerless, and as much as we like to mock her for that. We overlook how this powerlessness becomes such an overwhelming sensation inside of her. So many "if onlys…" swirling around in her head. If only she was as strong as the dragon that captured her. If only she was as cunning as the prince that promised to save her. If only she had a fraction of the combat abilities of the knights. If only, if only.

Not to mention how lonely she must feel and how nerve-wracking it is waking up every day wondering if everyone you ever knew-ever loved- has forgotten you. she's been told to wait for a prince or a knight or some dashing stranger. A harbinger of true love…but what if they never come? What if they have more important things to do than rescue her? The long hours spent in a quiet room with a monotonous view. Withering around in self-loathing on the brink of another panic attack. It's enough to drive anyone crazy.

There's also the part of NOT being able to save herself. She's not cunning enough, not brave enough, not strong enough. And maybe she is, maybe she's all those things but her self-doubt and pity have trapped her in a constant web of "can't".

She can't save herself

She isn't worth being rescued

She's nothing

Destined to rot away in the tower.

And then when/if she is rescued it's borderline impossible to readjust to society. All those years of being utterly alone make it painfully difficult to be around people. She can't read social cues or even understand what half the people are talking about. She misses the tower, the isolation, and the quiet. Yet never wants to return to it. You can forget about her making friends, everyone seems to avoid her, deeming her less because she was captured in the first place. Whispering behind her back about how 'they' would have saved themselves. Or how their heroes would have come to save them so much faster than hers did. Even the king and queen are rigid around her. Not knowing how to act or what to say, but growing increasingly more vexed at her ineptitude to "be normal" again. Our poor princess is convinced she'll always be alone, fated to a life of misery.

Oh, and let's not forget the nightmares. The terrors of the tower crept out of her subconscious each night. Tormenting her when she dares to close her eyes. The endless hallways and countless rooms filled with nothing. The feeling of the cold bricks under her bare feet as she wandered the corridors in a haze of boredom and anxiety. The dragon's there too, sharp teeth on display ready to bite and burn her at the slightest defiance. She can feel his embers tickling her arm. The markings of his claws on her cheek throbbing. She can't rember how many scars he left. How many open wounds that healed wrong.

She woke up screaming that night, just like the three nights before that. Waking up the whole castle. It's fellow residents irritated at her nightly "antics". She stopped sleeping after that. The days aren't much better

the constant feeling that what originally dragged her into that tower is coming after her again, is always at the forefront of her mind. She's skittish, reserved. The queen still doesn't understand why her daughter refuses to be touched. Rejecting every hug she tries to give her. The king can't comprehend why the princess barely talks, stuttering out what few words she utters.

The whole kingdom is gossiping. Repulsed by what their so-called princess has become. The dragon has been vanquished, the tower toppled. Move on. Little do they know both terrors still live on within her. Not to mention their constant negative views of her only feed her self-hatred all the more.

"Why can't the princess just be normal…"

Poor princess, forever trapped, wither by the dragon, the tower, the kingdom…or herself.

No, seriously I think the damsel in distress is one of the most heartbreaking self-reflecting tropes ever made.

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dateko · 8 months

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˚｡⋆ GLITTER AND GIGGLES | GETO SUGURU

contents: domestic fluff brain rot, papa!geto with the twins, tatted!geto, reader and suguru are married, & suguru being the best dad even though it is written quite poorly

“I’m home!” You announce as you enter the house, feet screaming as you kick off your heels.

Surprisingly, no one greets you back. The absence of the familiar rumble of footsteps that usually storm toward you causes you to frown. There isn’t a pair of mischievous twins that wait for you at the top of the stairs, nor is there a handsome husband dressed in an apron telling you that he’s missed you all day. You deflate at this, but your ears pick up the lovable sound of hushed giggles coming from the living room.

You creep up the steps gingerly, careful not to disrupt whatever fun the girls seem to be having. And that’s when you see it. There, splayed all over your ridiculously expensive rug that is now littered with markers and glitter glue, is your husband. Your two girls occupy his sides, hovering over his bare back with busy hands.

“Girls?” You break their playful trance, and they turn to each other before you with wide eyes. “What are you two doing?”

Mimiko attempts to gather the markers into her arms as a stuttering Nanako waves her hands in your face, doing a very poor job at obscuring your view when her hands are so incredibly teeny. “Mommy! It’s nothing! We were just cleaning up.”

Your brow raises at this since you know well you didn’t raise a liar. Catching a glimpse of Suguru’s sleeping figure with his bare torso flat on the floor almost makes you think the two tired out their own father to death. But as you step closer, the sight almost makes you laugh out loud.

The tattoo of the rainbow dragon that trails down Suguru’s spine finally bears truth to its name. You’re not exactly sure where to look first. You follow the lines of pink and purple scribbled messily outside the inked lines, the loose glitter that sticks itself between the crevices of your husband’s back muscles, and the series of Sanrio stickers that wander down the side of his neck. It’s ridiculous, almost like a unicorn had vomited all over him, yet precious all at once.

Mimiko tugs at your sleeve. “Are you mad?”

Shaking your head with a smile, you pinch the little brunette’s cheek. “Hand me a marker.”

The girls giggle behind you as you kneel beside Suguru’s sleeping face. He’s gorgeous, always been, and always will be. Thought it was a shame you were about to ruin it. The marker in your hold draws an elaborate beard on his face, making sure to dance with a few swirls and twirls. You beam at how your canvas scrunches his nose, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling of your marker gliding across his skin.

Suguru scratches his face before opening his eyes, blinking repeatedly at the moment he realizes you’re home. “Morning, beautiful.” You grin, tucking a piece of his dark locks behind his ear.

“Sweetheart,” He sits up immediately, unaware of the glitter that falls from his skin behind him. “I missed you.”

You decide against scolding your husband for falling asleep instead of watching your children when he leans in to seal a kiss on your lips, and you turn away, stifling a giggle. “Come on, no kiss?” Suguru pouts. “What’s so funny?”

“Papa, you look so weird.” Mimiko pips from behind you, trying to hide her laughter.

“You have something on your face, Papa!” Nanako adds, squealing when Suguru grabs her to tickle her stomach. The house is filled with an abundance of happy laughter once more, and you can feel your heart swell with contentment. Your husband extends his arm to you and Mimiko, a soft glint in his golden eyes. The expression on his face is delicate, yet he is still completely unaware of the ridiculous lines that paint his features. “Come over here, you two.”

Suguru beams as his three favorite girls pile on top of him, bubbles of joy bouncing off the walls every which way. You can’t help but finally kiss him. You could never resist Suguru, especially when he’s always been such a good husband and an exceptional father for the three of you. The wet smack you place on his lips causes the girls to grimace, trying to wiggle their way out of strong arms.

The twins scramble out of the living room and scurry off immediately. You stay in Suguru’s lap, hand tracing his collarbone and down his shoulders as he hugs you tighter. “Don’t think I’m letting you go without a punishment.” He teases, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?"

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow raises, unconvinced. “Well, I wouldn't be so sure. You look like Yaga right now.”

Your hands scramble to your chin as you gasp, noticing the black residue on your fingertips. Your husband watches you as you attempt to scrub off the black beard on your face with your sleeve. Rolling your eyes at his smirk, you give up. Grabbing both sides of his face, you kiss him once more. “Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

“Anything for you, Sweetheart.”

#i did not edit or proofread or put much thought or care i just hit POST!!!! because i love suguru #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #suguru x reader #jjk

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hyperfixatedhyperstressed · 1 year

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A soft morning

Aemond awoke to the faint sounds of birds chirping on the balcony and outside the windows. With the curtains pulled shut, only slight cracks of light filtered through and left slivers of the golden morning light spreading around the room. Yet he could tell it was still early, well before time when servants would tap on the door and begin their morning tasks. To his side, you lay on your side facing him, hair fanned out haphazardly on the pillows. Your face was relaxed and gentle, soft breathes gently moving some pieces of hair hung over your face, which he delicately moved to tuck behind your ear, letting a finger trail along your cheekbone. A pillow was tucked underneath your swollen stomach, another resting behind your back and bracketing your body to provide some comfort while you slept; your hand was resting atop the swell while the other was still reached out across the bed from where you had a hold on his bicep throughout the night.

Turning to lie on his side, Aemond just remained watching you sleep, taking your outstretched hand in his own and holding it close to his chest. It was then that he felt a tugging at the blankets towards the end of the bed, little hands grasping and trying to find leverage and hurl themselves up. A quiet snort of a laugh left his mouth as he sat up and reached out, small fingers wrapping around his own as a head of white hair peaked over the top of the bed. Aemond pulled his arm up as he leaned back and returned to his lying down position. Your daughter, Shaera, crawled to sit atop his bare chest with a big smile across her face. White hair messy from sleep and still dressed in her nightgown, the 5 year old held a finger up to her lips upon seeing you still sleeping.

“Unlike you to wake so early, nuha byka zaldrizes.” Aemond reached to stroke down the wild hair on his daughters head, her hands batting him away. Little giggles left her mouth as she tried to scramble away gently, not trying to rock the bed too much and wake you. Aemond sat up and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest before lying on his side and holding her in between the two of you. Shaera’s hand outstretched to rest on Aemond’s cheek and grab ahold of a handful of his hair, pulling it gently close to her and she tossed it around to tickle his face, a smile coming to his face, his nose scrunching at her.

With his daughter pressed against his chest and pregnant wife beside them, Aemond could not invision a more picturesque moment, and one in which he never thought he would be able to have. You had given him the love and comfort he had always craved, and then blessed him with a child who was the spitting image of him. His daughter was his shadow, the little girl always accompanying her father, following him step for step. His Princess.

“When will the baby come, Kepa?” Shaera whispered to him, breaking Aemond from his thoughts. You had, still deep in your sleep, reached your hand out again and rested it on your daughters body, seemingly sensing her presence and wanting to hold her close; Aemond moved his own hand to cover yours.

“Soon, my little love, your sibling should be here any day now.”

“I want a sister, can she be a girl, kostilus Kepa?”

“We won’t know until they decide they’re ready to be born, it could be either a girl or a boy.” Aemond felt you moving more on the bed and knew that you’d be stirring from your sleep soon, “Your muna hopes for a boy, with hair just like yours, who she can dress up in reds and greens and golds.”

“What do you hope for Kepa, a boy or a girl?” Shaera wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled herself closer to him, tucking her head underneath his chin, snuggling into his warmth and taking in his comforting scent.

“I, like you, would like for another little Princess. As many as your mother agrees to bless me with, and a little prince eventually for your mothers sake.”

“More little dragons for you to spoil.” Your sleepy laugh came from beside the two Targaryen’s as you shifted the pillow out from underneath your stomach and moved closer to your husband and daughter. Shaera extended her other arm and slid it under your neck and pulled your head closer, your face coming close to Aemond’s as he pressed a soft greeting kiss to your mouth then the tip of your nose, “Something which I think this little dragon enjoys the sound of.” The movements and stretches of the babe within your stomach could be seen, your stomach moving and tapping against Shaera’s leg causing her to smile and sit up, pressing both hands firmly against where she saw movements. You and Aemond watched your daughter happily, you having moved your head to rest on Aemond’s temple, his own hand coming to rest softly on the top of the swell.

Aemond never invisioned having a moment like this, the light filtering in with the far away noises of Kings Landing faint in his ears. His daughter and wife lying against him with his unborn child, days from being born, locked away in your rooms in this moment of private familial calmness. Pressing another kiss to your cheek, Aemond felt completely at peace.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #pregnant!reader #aemond x pregnant!reader #dad aemond #girl dad

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arabellasleopardcoat · 3 months

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The dragon has three heads (Viserys x Reader x Daemon)

Summary: It's Viserys first day as King. You and your twin see him off.

A/N: We interrupt my scheduled hate of Viserys to bring you this. I thought it out when writing another request.

Warnings: Daemon x sister!Reader x Viserys to fulfill double penetration. So oral sex and vaginal sex plus Targcest.

Your limbs felt heavy. Your mind was sluggish and soft, still submerged in the waters of sleep. In and out you drifted, cradled gently in someone's arms. There was noise around you, movement. But your eyes remained closed because you knew you were safe.

A ticklish sensation on the sole of your feet made you pull it up, kneeing your pillow. The pillow made a hurt noise, and you scrunched up your face. You were not ready to wake up yet.

Your pillow shook. You looked up, blinking wearily. Daemon's eyes stared down at you. He was fighting laughter. The light inside your shared chambers was hitting him from behind, making his silver hair shine like a halo.

There was another tickle to your soles. You squirmed, and tried to hide under the sheets. You did not want to get up just yet.

“Come on. Up, sleepyheads.” Your brother's hand curled around your ankle, tugging. You whined more, clinging to your twin. “Won't the two of you see me off today?”

Daemon groaned. Now that Viserys was including him in his plans, he did not seem as amused by your plight. You echoed his noise. Viserys remained as cheerful as ever.

“Is that the way to address your King?” He teased, tickling the arch of your foot. You yipped and kicked the sheets away, letting you as naked as the day you were born.

“Thank the Gods that you are cute.” Viserys said, unbearably fond. Daemon stretched as well, fishing for his own compliments. He, too, was naked. “Both of you.”

You finally turned to face Viserys, finding him already dressed for the day. He even had his crown on. The reminder of your triumph made you smile. Though cousin Rhaenys had a stronger claim to the throne, Viserys was a man. A King always trumped a Queen. And you were the lucky woman who was married to him.

“Morning, brother.” You beamed at Viserys. He beamed right back.

Daemon pulled you closer, pressing his erection to your back.

“And what of your twin? Or are measly Princes no longer enough for you?” He asked, kissing your shoulder. Despite his playful words, you could feel Daemon's hesitation. It was Viserys first day as a King, and your first as his Queen. He probably wondered where he fitted in all of that.

During your whole childhood, the three of you had been together. Where Viserys went, Daemon and you followed. He had been the best older brother that anyone could ask for, always looking out for you.

It had been Viserys who had discovered Daemon and you, all those years ago. When the two of you were nothing more than a young girl and boy, fascinated by the differences in your bodies. Viserys had been the one to teach both of you the pleasures you could pull from it.

The three of you had married under the traditions of your house as soon as Daemon and you reached the majority. Three heads for the dragon, just as your banner, and just as Aegon and his two sisters wives.

It was not unheard of, for Targaryens to wed sister and brother. But what was unheard of was for a woman to marry two men. And so, Viserys and you had married under the Faith of the Seven to prevent a scandal. In the eyes of the realm, you were his, and it was only more cemented by your position as his queen.

It must have upset Daemon, but you knew it was the best course of action as to not attract unwanted attention. It had also been your grandfather's condition. The wounds from Maegor's reign were still too fresh in his memory.

To you, of course, it meant nothing. The bond you had with Daemon was even stronger. You were twins. Two halves of the same soul, separated into two bodies. You were never apart, not even when physically separated, for you were the same being.

Viserys gave you a look. You nodded, and turned to kiss Daemon. If he was in need of reassurances, you were going to give them to him.

You gave Daemon a slow, passionate kiss. You made sure to leave no corner of his mouth unexplored, no inch unkissed. Viserys quietly seated himself on the bed next to your twin, back propped against a pillow, legs stretched. When his hands reached for your back, you finally stopped making out with your twin and laid down, head between his thighs.

Daemon pouted.

“What are you doing?”

Viserys remained fully dressed, in what must have been a confusing sight to Daemon. Your twin and you enjoyed playing different games than this. When you were with Viserys, he liked to play husband and wife. Daemon and you had never fully evolved from the childhood games of slipping a finger in, taking something inside your mouth, raking nails across each other's ribs. While he had taken you as a man was meant to take his woman, it was a rare occasion.

You knew he had fucked other women, common whores and nobles alike. But he always came back to you, and never dared take you in such a way unless you begged for it. He didn't want to defile you, perhaps. Didn't want to lump you in with them. You were still his little sister, his hāedus. Precious, pure, Valyrian. Made by the gods to his image and likeness.

“Come on.” Viserys said, smoothing your hair back. “Doesn't she look good, brother?”

“She does. She always does.” Daemon spoke, as if caught in a trance.

“Will you get me ready for you?” You asked him, pouting. Daemon looked at Viserys. Whatever that he saw, it seemed to please him, for he leaned in over you. The wet, smacking sounds over you, told you that they had started to make out. You took your chance to run your hand over Daemon's stomach, gently scratching with your nails.

He shivered, just as you thought he would. With a gentle hand, you took his member and started to tease him. Daemon gasped.

Viserys’ hands started to pull at your nipples, making you arch from the bed. You felt yourself become slick with want already, arousal pooling in your belly and making you whine wantonly.

Your noises made your brothers pull apart. Viserys chuckled, his caresses turning more insistent now that Daemon wasn't distracting him with a kiss.

“Sweet little whore.” Daemon whispered, brushing your cheek with almost reverence. You pulled him on top of you, rubbing yourself against his thigh without an ounce of shame.

“I want you inside me, dārilaros.” You licked the shell of his ear, playfully. Daemon groaned.

“In your..?” He asked, softly. You never knew him to be so hesitant.

“My cunt, Daemon.” You rolled your eyes. You were his twin, after all.

“But Viserys…”

“I will have her mouth.” Viserys ordered, and finally took off his crown. He set it aside, and opened his breeches. You leaned your head on his thigh, watching him loom over you.

Viserys was the decision maker of the three of you. When faced with dilemmas, he took rash, decisive action. Daemon was mercurial, and prone to sudden mood swings, which often meant that he second guessed himself. You, like Viserys, were stubborn as they came.

A hand on your thigh startled you. It was Daemon, gently making room for himself. You let your thighs fall apart, showing him your slick cunt. He hummed appreciatively, and slowly started rutting against you, without entering. He dragged his tip against your entrance, teasing the both of you, before tapping it against your pearl and starting all over again.

You tried focusing on Viserys, taking him inside your mouth. He was as impatient as Daemon, though, so his hands found immediate purchase on your hair.

“Show me how good of a Queen you are, my love.” His thumb brushed over the slope of your nose, careful. You twisted yourself as good as you could, knowing that when Daemon entered, you would have a hard time doing more than using Viserys’ lap as a pillow.

His manhood was heavy on your tongue, the taste salty and musky. You looked up at him, mischievously. Viserys groaned, and urged you to take him deeper.

But you were a Targaryen and a Queen. You took orders from no one. Instead, you twirled your tongue around him, licking him sloppily. You knew there would be time for deep thrusts into your throat later on. Viserys’ thighs shook under you, throwing off your rhythm.

Daemon got down on his stomach, and sucked your pearl inside his mouth. There was no finesse to the way he was touching you, just pure desperation. It made you jolt and choke a moan around Viserys’ cock.

Daemon needed you wet and open, fast. His own desperation was showing in the way he gripped at you, almost cruel. He pressed a finger inside you and growled.

“You are soaked, little sister.”

You would have given him a snide reply, but you were too busy sucking Viserys' cock. Thank the gods the three of you had stayed up celebrating last night, or otherwise it would have been too much and too fast.

You thanked the gods that the three of you had stayed up last night celebrating, and not gone straight to bed. Otherwise, your body could not take it.

Noticing your distress, Viserys starts rubbing your breasts, softly kneading.

“You are doing so good, my Queen.”

“Our Queen.” Daemon pulls away from your cunt, annoyed.

“Treat her like it, then.”

Daemon grumbles a little, but complies. The desperate fingering of your poor hole slows down to a more manageable pace. Your moans around Viserys lost their pained edge, and you were able to go back to focusing on pleasing him.

Your twin gets more dedicated with his kisses. He slows down, licking your sex from top to bottom until you are squirming and unable to focus on anything else but the way he is kissing you.

You let go of Viserys cock, resting your head on his thigh. Your face scrunches up, jaw already a little sore. You moan, loud and high.

Your older brother gives you a kind look and pets your hair, pushing it back from your face. He seems as mesmerized by the sight of your twin lapping up the nectar between your thighs as you are.

“Be quiet.” He chides. “Or I will take your mouth until you are too sore to cry out.”

The thought, coupled with the way Daemon is starting to push his tongue inside you, makes you kneen. One of your hands timidly goes to his silver hair, encouraging him to go deeper. Your other hand reaches for Viserys, who gives you his outstretched hand to hold.

“Quiet, hāedus.” Viserys squeezes your hand.

Daemon stops his ministrations. He looks up at you, face wet with your slick, and chuckles.

“Give her your cock back, Viserys, if you are that bothered by the noise.”

“I am waiting for the two of you.”

“Afraid I will bite your cock once Daemon presses…” You tease, but before you can finish your sentence, Daemon gives your ankles a mighty tug and buries himself to the hilt inside you. “Ah. Brother…” And you are not even sure which one of them you are pleading to anymore. You have forgotten whatever smug comment you were going to say to Viserys, mouth falling open with surprise and pleasure.

Daemon feels right inside you. Warm, thick and reaching just the place where you need him to. Just the place that makes your smug comments and piling on Viserys fall away, mind gone blank with nothing but the need to give the two of them perfect Valyrian babes. Twins, like you and Daemon, or at least, a litter of siblings that can marry each other and keep your bloodline pure.

“Brat.” Daemon says, fondly. “Stop being mean to Viserys. You need to apologize. Relax your jaw for him.”

So you do. You open your mouth, letting it hang open, and give Viserys your best puppy eyed look. He snorts, very undignified for a King, and places the tip of his cock against your mouth. You whine.

“Spoiled little thing, isn't she?” Viserys pulls his hips away, and you do your best to give chase, whining more. Daemon tuts, and grips you firmly by the waist. Viserys look at him, and they exchange a glance, communicating without a word needing to be said. “Did that look like an apology to you, Daemon?”

“Not at all, brother.” He pulls out of you as well, making you whine more.

“That is so unfair!” You complain. “The two of you are teaming up against me.”

“Like you were trying to do before with me, huh?” Daemon asks, meanly pinching your thigh. You shriek and kick at him a little. “You were being mean to Viserys.”

“Oh, like you aren't!” You squirm away from him, turning on to your belly so he can’t pinch at you. You crawl towards Viserys, hoping he will protect you. Instead, he only tugs at your wrists, keeping them pinned down so you can't move.

You are trying so hard to get free of Viserys’ grip that you make a fatal mistake. You don't notice Daemon at your back, getting ready to strike. And strike he does. He smacks your arse, making you wince and fall forward into Viserys. Daemon smacks your arse again. And again. It's edging into picking of you, rather than just teasing. It's making you unbelievably wet.

“Viserys!” You scream. “Do something!”

“You are a little brat. But so is he. Enough.” Your older brother orders, letting go of your wrists. He gives Daemon a warning look. “Both of you.”

You give Daemon a superior sneer over your shoulder. You stick your tongue out. He snarls, and tugs at your hair.

“You are the Queen and Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Behave as it befits your station.” Viserys says. “Daemon, inside. You, open your mouth.”

Daemon laughs. You do so as well. Viserys pouts.

“It's an order from your King.” He repeats, pompously.

“Alright, alright. If the King orders it.” You say, and open up your mouth. You make your best effort to let your jaw go loose, and welcome him inside. He is considerate enough to not start thrusting right away, but you know soon that patience will be tested. Viserys is as much of a dragon as Daemon and you are, and he is not one to deny himself of his pleasure. He can take you over and over on his good days, fuck you until you cry, and remain unbothered by your tears. In a sense, Daemon and him are the same.

You feel Daemon's hands on your back, warning you that he is soon to move. You widen your stance, knees falling even more apart. He slides inside carefully enough, but the stretch still hurts. You wince, and Viserys is quick to smooth down your frown with a thumb, very gentle.

Both of your brothers are very tuned in to your reactions. Consequence of being a twin, for Daemon. Consequence of being the eldest, for Viserys. They are cautious about your discomfort. You wonder what would they be like if you were not a Targaryen.

You have heard Daemon could be quite cruel with whores. He had a taste for Valyrian girls, of pouty mouths and tight little bodies, barely out of childhood. Viserys had wandering eyes, and mistook every kindness for flirting. He only read you right because he had known you all your life. They respected your strength and power too much to do anything else.

Daemon hands goes to your pearl, rubbing quick little circles in the hope of making you relax. You force your body to accept his intrusion, and go lax in between them, trusting them to not let you fall.

Viserys starts thrusting into your mouth, shallowly at first. He works on opening up your throat for him, and you try to focus on breathing to your nose. Gagging happens regardless. Daemon jolts you too much once he starts moving not to.

“Seven Hells. Do that again.” He mutters to Viserys, after a particularly vicious thrust on your throat. “She flutters delightfully when she chokes.”

You garble out an indignant reply at their lack of consideration, but you are quickly soothed by Daemon's fingers rubbing your pearl. He keeps his strokes long, making sure to drag against your walls in the most pleasurable way.

Viserys soon starts to praise you under his breath. He is the one who has been teased longer, so it makes sense that he would be the first of the three of you to let go.

“You are so good. Your mouth, sister…”

You grin around his member. You double your efforts, sucking at him and bobbing your head with enthusiasm. Your focus is so much on him that your peak takes you by surprise, and with one last thrust of Daemon's hips, you are screaming around Viserys. The vibrations against him prove to be too much, and he too goes over the edge with a muffled curse. He barely manages to pull out of you, painting your chest white.

Daemon is spurred on by the sounds and sights around him, and he snaps his hips once, twice, thrice, before he is screaming his release. You feel it coat your thighs, and it's only then that you allow yourself to collapse into Viserys.

“I was already dressed for the day.” He complains. “Can't walk into the council covered in my own seed.”

“Change later.” Daemon says, plopping on top of you and by extension, Viserys. Your older brother groans. “You are not going yet.”

“They will come looking for me.” Viserys tries to wiggle out of the cuddle pile, but the weight of your twin, and you combined is too much to do anything.

“Let them come.”

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fierymiasma · 1 year

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⚜ Hogwarts Legacy Fanfic Masterlist ⚜

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK. YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION. Reblogs and tagging my blog for credit. If there are any headcanons that you would like to use, please contact me!

ꕥ 《 As always: Accepting Requests 》 ꕥ

|| My Other Work || AO3 || Works in Progress ||

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

🌸Five Times Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Five times Sebastian Sallow Was Jealous and One Time He Didn't Have to Be

🌸Homecoming Part 1 || Part 2

She visits Sebastian in Azkaban ten years after sending him there.

🌸 You Look Better In Green

🌸 Part 2: And You Look Fetching in Yellow

Sebastian sees the new transfer student wearing someone else's scarf and proceeds to absolutely lose it.

🌸 For Her Own Good

🌸 Part 2: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Sebastian gives f!MC Amortentia, so she never tries to leave him again. He instantly regrets it.

🌸 Keeping His Promise

10 year reunion fic: Sebastian sees her again at the 10 year Hogwarts reunion. He's not letting her get away this time.

🌸 Monstrous

She couldn't believe that Sebastian was ever capable of casting the Killing Curse. Now she doesn't know what to do with him.

🌸 Firewhiskey and Apple Tarts

Sebastian is tasked to take a drunk hero of Hogwarts back to her dorm after a wild party in the Slytherin Common Room.

🌸 Tear You Apart

Sebastian and the hero of Hogwarts try to make each other jealous. It doesn't end well.

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

🌸 Poetic Misunderstanding

10 year reunion: The last thing that Ominis expected from their ten year class reunion was to end up in the middle of Three Broomsticks kissing the savior of Hogwarts.

🌸 Drowning In Jealousy 🔞

The hero of Hogwarts has been recently attracting a lot of unwanted attention. Jealous Ominis makes sure to remind his pretty little dove who she belongs to.

Silver Trio - Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis

🌸 A Little Game Part 2

A contest: whoever charms you more, gets your first kiss.

🌸 Between

Sebastian is jealous over both of his friends only to find out that they're room enough for all of them.

🌸 Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon

Ominis catches Sebastian and MC sneaking out again, off on another dangerous adventure without him. They find a way to make it up to him

🌸 The Spare

Sebastian and f!MC try repeatedly to court an oblivious Ominis.

🌸 Teach Him a Lesson 🔞

Ever since the three of them started dating, Sebastian's been getting really jealous whenever Ominis starts kissing their girlfriend. It's about time they teach him a lesson.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hphl #harry potter #sebastian sallow fic #harry potter hogwarts game #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x reader #ominis x you #silver trio

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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ñuhus prūmӯs (my heart) │Chapter 7: Betrayal (NSFW!)

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 │Chapter 11 │Chapter 12 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Childbirth is the duty and dismay of all highborn women. Together, you and Daemon experience the trials, tribulations and triumphs of expectant parenthood. You learn the truth.

(Set post-episode 7, though Daemon never married Laena or Rhaenyra.)

Thank you to @angelqueen04, @evisnotok, @ewanmitchellcrumbs and @ajthefujoshi for holding my hand throughout the drafting, teehee!

Triggers: incest, age gap, purity culture, detailed depictions of pregnancy, discussion of abortion.

You dream in abstract.

There is no form to it—no faces to see nor words to hear in the fanciful void of your mind. Instead, it is shapeless, immaterial, washes of colour and vague impressions of sound like music in a far-off hall. It is a blessed reprieve from the convincing re-enactments of the day’s events your thoughts usually produce under the sway of slumber, and most certainly a relief in light of…

No.

A sensation enters your sleeping consciousness, one that does not fit the transience of those singularities swirling about in your head. It is far too concrete, unyielding, unrelenting to belong here. That strange feeling tickles throughout your body, coalescing low in your stomach and pooling warm between your thighs.

You sigh as you awaken slowly, as peaceful as the rocking of an infant in their cradle. Drowsily, you take note of your surroundings, the way in which you are propped up against the pillows with your shift gathered at your waist and your legs dangling over your uncle’s wide-set shoulders. You wonder absently how he always manages to rearrange you so without rousing you.

Why does he always choose to wake me with his carnal appetites? It seems to you that he has never once attempted to shake you or call your name.

It does not surprise you that he is once more availing himself of your particular assets, given his near unbearable persistence in proving that his inability to bed you previously was but a momentary impediment. You have considered hiding to discourage him from making this point yet again—but you do so enjoy the outcome of his efforts.

Your breathing must change cadence, for you are drawn further into the realm of awareness by his large, calloused hand smoothing a path along the side of your rounded belly.

“Sȳz ñāqes, dōnītsos.” Good morning, sweetling, Daemon murmurs against your heated flesh. His breath spools delicately across the puffed folds of your cunny. “Sh. Inkot edrugon jās.” Go back to sleep.

You mumble incoherently, lips curving up despite your reluctance to awaken. Your hand drifts down to pat against his, your smile widening when he flips his palm to lock his fingers with your own. Returning to his task and nuzzling inexorably at your yearning little bud, the stubble on his jaw rasps against your inner thighs in tantalising counter to the glide of tongue over tender tissue.

It is sweet, impossibly indulgent, with none of the bite of hurt that you have come to crave in your couplings. You are so sensitive these days that, at times, such contact borders on agonising. The blood in your veins thrums far hotter now that you are three dragons in one form, you and each of the babes in turn. But here in the quiet stillness of the morn, every swipe up the split of you or rumbling resonance through your responsive nerve endings or greedy suckle to your pearl tips you further and further to that golden finish. Your joined hands rest against your middle, stretched taut and full of your children. You send a silent prayer above in thanks that they are asleep as their father tends so amorously to their mother.

The release is a wave cresting to the coastline, gentle and buoyant and rapturous as it ever is. It is as though the ocean pulses out from deep within you, wetting the way for your husband’s return to the safe shores of your body.

“Daemon.” Tipping your head back, you let the surge take you. You hear the ruffle of fabric dropping and feel the press of skin against yours.

“Ah-ah,” Daemon says. “Open up, little niece.” Hands prying your knees from their clenched-together defense of your inflamed womanhood, he props your feet against the bedframe to force your legs wide, sliding the length of himself through your slick lips. “Your cunt is mine to use, even if you are already bred full.”

The velvet-steel line of his hardened shaft slips inside, a brief press to the scrunching firmness of your entry that gives way with a pop and a rush. He grunts as he cleaves you in two, the heft of his stones slapping against the skin of your rear being the only sign that he cannot invade any further.

You can do nothing but accept it, weighed down by your belly as you are. Arching your back, you let out a low whimper, feeling that terrible, wonderful overcrowding in your womb and in your cunny.

“Good girl.” He stills the discomfited shift of your hips with an iron grip. It is an abrupt taking—but like the curves of your figure, the efforts of growing his seed to their full has made you softer, rounder, more pliant. You blink hazily at him, mouth opening dumbly as you surrender to the tide. “Just lay back. Let kepa take care of you.”

His covetous gaze roams across the changes he has wrought in you; your plush thighs, plump cheeks, enlarged breasts and the sway of your distended middle as he pitches into you being but some of the most notable within his immediate reach. It is difficult to be self-conscious of these vicissitudes when his violet eyes fixate so zealously upon them, promptly trailed by the heat of his hands across those same places.

The sight of him—his silver hair rumpled from sleep, the prominent shelf of his brow and the exhilarated parting of his lips, the thrilling menace of his broad shoulders and thick-scarred skin, the flex of his arms as his hands seek new territory to touch—pools hot in your gut. The sound of your wetness being stirred with his every plunge into you is a churning melody that blazes beneath your skin.

You listen lethargically to the lustful affirmations spilling uncontrollably from Daemon’s lips. He is so terribly loquacious when his cock is in you, consumed by his ardour and forgetting any such difficulties he has in conveying the depth of his emotions.

“… so tight for me… barely any room left for my cock, but you just keep taking it, don’t you?… made to take me… fuck. I’ll fuck you forever. Keep you heavy and helpless like this fucking always…”

His obsession with your fecund form is flattering if a bit predictable. Grinning sleepily at his words, you yawn as you tug up your sleepwear to bare your breasts for him. Your nipples tingle as the cooler air makes contact, tightening them to hard tips. You smooth the pads of your thumbs over them to alleviate the sudden prickle.

His eyes zero in on the movement, ogling you heatedly.

“Play with your tits,” he says, holding the mass of your belly still so that he may speed the tempo of his cock inside you, thick and hot and catching against that high point along your walls that makes you clamp down uncontrollably. You moan faintly as you reach back up to cup the heft of your breasts. He makes an animal noise at the display. “That’s it. Are they sore, precious? A little harder—there.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you obey his command, squeezing the supple flesh, pulling at the teats just as your two babes will when they nurse from your body to nourish their own. They have been hypersensitive as of late. You are unsure if your own touch is painful or pleasurable. Regardless, the sheer strength of it is enough to reignite the familiar ember signalling a new climax.

Making a show of the ache, you wiggle down into his thrusts to feel the shudder ripple up your spine when he drives to the end of you. You are rewarded with a quickening of pace and the sound of his panting breaths as he exerts himself above you, flushed and sweating and entirely consumed by the welcoming clutch of your cunt. “Daemon. Can I pe–peak, please?”

“So well-behaved.” He chuckles, grinning wickedly as he watches a lone trail of liquid trek from your eye down your temple and disappear into your hairline. “I do love when you cry for me.”

You nod furiously at his words, blinking more stray droplets from your lashes. Eagerly spreading your thighs as far apart as you can, you yelp as the angle changes. Your uncle hisses at the sight, a hand disappearing below the protrusion of your middle; you cry out as he introduces his thumb to your bud, drawing back the hood and rubbing up in inescapable motions.

“I suppose you’ve earned it. Go on, then,” he says. “Come.”

As the obedient wife you are, you heed his wish. This time, there is little that is gentle about the way your walls constrict on him, making the rapid rock of his cock a near unbearable intrusion. The air flees your lungs and your limbs lock in place as the bliss washes over you, soundless in spite of the force of it.

“Thank you, thank you,” you say when you are able to catch your breath again, your grip upon your breasts becoming less of a cultivated show and more a necessity that keeps them from bobbing about wildly.

He ruts into you with jerky, uneven slaps, too fast and too hard for you to truly enjoy. You endure it—you have had your fill. Now, it is his turn.

“Are you going to spill in me, kepus?” you ask, falsetto pitch and airy tone, using what little leverage you have to push your lower body up into his urgent offensive. The burn in your thighs is immediate, but you will not need to hold this position for long. “I want you to, please, please—”

“Yes,” he growls, deep and dark, face contorted into something resembling pain and eyes closing in concentration, seemingly heedless of the spiel tumbling from his mouth. “I’ll come in this cunt, keep you in this bed fat with my heirs and leaking my seed, lick it out of you later—”

Your lip curls with feigned petulance, girlish and stubborn and exactly to his liking. “What if I cannot wait ‘til later, kepus?”

He gasps like he is winded by the suggestion of it, juddering strokes that begin to hurt, but you love it. You love how undone you can make him with such simple words, and you prepare yourself to deal the finishing blow.

“Maybe you should clean me up straight away,” you say coquettishly, nails digging into your skin to distract from the ache of him. “Taste us together and kiss me so I can, too—”

“Fuck!”

He moans, stilling inside, fully in your core, the spasms of his manhood pumping spend hot and thick into the very depths of you. His iron grip eases into inattentive pats across your skin as his stare refocuses on you, a look of such sheer relief on his face that you are momentarily overcome by the urge to laugh.

My poor uncle.

“Gods, this cunt.” Daemon hunches over you briefly, riding out the remainder of his release before withdrawing, catching sticky along your walls as he tugs away.

Your attention wavers when he rummages around out of sight for a cloth with which to wipe his shaft free of your mingled fluids, the tell-tale signs of breeches being yanked back up and laces being knotted easy to hear. Your legs close once more, an ingrained habit from the weeks and months of wishing your womb would do its work and catch your uncle’s seed. You shift uncomfortably at the unwelcome intrusion of reality into this sacred space.

The tea.

“Need help up, sweetling?”

You banish the disturbance from your mind. Taking his proffered hand, you allow your amused husband to assist you in sitting upright, again availing yourself of his geniality to lumber your way back into the arrangement he had facilitated you in achieving when you had gone to sleep the night previous. With your body fully covered and reclined, you flop on your side with an exhausted puff, already tired from your romp and the effort of moving about with such an unwieldy figure.

A dip in the mattress heralds his settling behind you, arm banding over your waist and palm coming to rest over your belly. “The babes give you any rest?” He punctuates this enquiry with an absent press of lips to your neck, breath humid upon your flesh.

You mumble noncommittally, distracted by the pulsating movements emanating through your middle. “I slept well enough—but you have gone and woken them.” You do not even try to conceal the complaint in your voice.

He laughs against your shoulder, hand tracking the activity under your skin. They are taking tumbling practice today, you think with some measure of vexation, though the exhilarated fascination remains ever near. You cannot help but to exult in the signs that your children are alive, that they are well, despite—No.

You will not think upon that night.

It is unhealthy to repress something of such magnitude. While you know this, you simply cannot indulge the thought of casting your memory back to the weight of that man bearing down toward your belly, the stink of his rotting breath and the sight of watery blue eyes wild on you, the warm stickiness of Miriam’s blood seeping from her cooling body through your sweat-soaked gown—

No. You shall not. The tears have come and gone. You have pandered to the urge to lay about in dazed silence for long enough.

“They’re lively little things, aren’t they?”

The urge to cry flows and ebbs in unpredictable rhythm yet again at the sound of Daemon’s quiet awe. Damn it all. You can even picture the expression he is sure to be wearing: eyes wide and dark, mouth parted with corners quirked, unblinking and trained steadfastly to the expanse of his babes as they wriggle and turn unknown within your womb.

“Does it hurt?” He sounds far too worried for such a simple query. Oh, Daemon. He might be asking about the babes’ movements, but you know what he really means.

‘Are you hurt?’ he wants to ask. ‘Are you safe? Are they safe?’

If the horrors of your time anew in King’s Landing have made you weepy and disconsolate, they have made him compulsive and paranoid, wholly preoccupied with the task of ensuring that even the slightest impediment to your peaceful confinement is removed post-haste.

“No,” you say. “It feels odd, but not painful. It… Oh, I cannot describe it right,” You turn to look at him. He is as always absorbed by you, hanging onto your every word. Taking his hand in yours, you tap your fingers across his skin, mimicking as best you can the sensation from within. “Like this—but on the inside. It does not hurt. It is just there.”

“Hm.”

You grumble as he tips you to your back, shuffling gracelessly down your body and bracing himself above you with his arms. The lower half of his face burrows into your belly so that all you are able to see of him is his violet stare and pale lashes and lined forehead. He rucks up your nightwear once again to lay his mouth upon your skin, something you usually catch him doing when he believes you asleep. The tell-tale vibrations of words spoken softly into flesh fizzle from the point of contact.

“What are you muttering to them down there?” you ask. “They are too young to become vassals for your unseemly behaviour, Uncle.”

“I’ll say what I like to my own children, little girl.” When his brows waggle with mischief above the crest of your middle, you kick him lightly in the side, the laughter bursting unrestrained from your lungs. “There are some things that ought to be kept between a father and his daughters,” he says, and you are sure he conceals a smile from beyond your view.

“If your sons take your guidance to heart, I shall not be dealing with the aftermath of whatever strife they decide to plague the Realm with. That is firmly in your hands.”

“If my daughters”—you squeal as he yanks you down by the thighs and parts them wide—“decide to follow in their kepa’s footsteps, you’re free to watch me teach them how to worm their way out of trouble.”

“Like you have?” Your voice is breathy, cracked at the end when you feel his fingers play with the seed that leaks from your raw opening, tacky and warm and squelching with each searching prod. “How many times have you been exiled again? Two? Three?”

You gasp as his hand strikes your mound, catching on your bud and your folds, hard enough to shock but not to cause injury. The feeling ripples out from its epicentre, slithering through your veins and lighting the tinder of desire anew. You sigh shakily as the sting sizzles along your skin.

“Don’t be naughty,” he says, breath travelling down, down, down along your bared flesh. “Impertinent brats don’t get rewarded.”

“Sorry, kepus. I’ll behave, I promise.” Silently, you bemoan how quickly he is able to redirect your changeable mood to one of lust. I want to sleep, you think.

“Good.” Daemon presses a wet kiss to the top of your womanhood, tingling with the blood raised from his slap. It is a sure sample of what is to come. “Now—I do believe you begged me to lick this little cunt clean before I left. I’d best give my wife what she wants, hm?”

Sleep can wait. You do so enjoy the outcome of his efforts, after all.

Though you adore him so, you are secretly glad for Daemon’s departure.

In the wake of the attack, he has become even more overbearing than before. When he is not embroiled in the business of searching out the architect of this plot—and truthfully, you know little of the details, partly out of desire to avoid as much mention of the event as possible and partly because he refuses to ‘burden’ you further—you are scarce to find a moment alone. It is not always a pretext for coupling, either, though that is in plentiful supply. Mostly, he watches you with intent eyes as you stitch gowns and bonnets and blankets for your babes, or rearrange the items you have procured for them, or nap out on the balcony in the late afternoon. You had been forced to put your foot down when he had attempted to accompany you to the privy. You hardly need his assistance in relieving yourself.

Remember what Ūlla said, is what you tell yourself each time he irks you with this irrational behaviour. You are impossibly grateful for the healer. If she had not dissuaded you from your anxiety after Daemon had stormed out in such a state, you might not possess any understanding of what induces him to linger so.

“He is man of control, Princess,” she had said to you. “So much control taken from him, so he cannot manage. He is very afraid. Be kind to him.”

She had been correct, of course. All of it—the untethered restlessness, the misdirected ire, the… performance issues—had very little to do with your own conduct and more-so his fear. You had comforted him as best you can, your beloved, stolid beast of a man. His fear has since taken on this new form. Truthfully, you are glad for such compulsive care, but you nonetheless welcome the opportunity to take respite from him on this day.

You turn your mind to your present task. “Thank you for coming,” you say to your sister.

Senna serves you and Helaena tea with shaky hands, spilling some of the hot liquid upon the saucer and the table. You do not reproach her for it. She has been nervous and withdrawn since discovering Miriam, in mourning for her companion as you have been.

Writing the letter to Miriam’s parents had been an incredibly difficult task. How do you convey that the girl in your service—a position that ought to be safest of all—was slain as an accessory to a greater scheme? Lord and Lady Butterwell had dolefully accepted your offer of a small monthly stipend, a mere pittance in comparison to the life that has been lost.

You nod kindly to your lady-in-waiting as she withdraws to the chaise to read, keeping to the background of your conversation should you have need of her.

Helaena glances hesitantly toward the tea before taking the handle in a delicate grip, sipping slowly from the contents within. “Of course. How are you feeling today?” Her attempt at a carefree enquiry falls flat in light of recent circumstances, her brow dipping in discomfort.

“I am well. The babes, too.” You watch her carefully for her reaction, and you are not disappointed. The wince at the mention of your children is slight, but it is there.

“I’m glad.” She takes another nervous mouthful, offering little else.

You sigh. It seems I must make the first play.

“We need to discuss it, Helaena,” you say, reaching out for her hand. She takes it, fingers trembling, a habit ingrained from years of doing the same. It generates a wistful sort of joy to know that you are still the only person she will so readily accept touch from. “You know we do.”

She had been far too hysterical last time, before. Before. You had scarcely discerned the truth of the matter before she devolved into weeping with such desolation that you had put all questions aside so as to console her. Knowing these details will not help you determine the culprit behind your enduring of so many barren moons, but it cannot hurt to learn where she has sought the concoction from. Perhaps her source and yours are linked.

Her eyes dart away from your face, and you squeeze her grip to catch her attention. You do not want her to retreat into her mind and escape from the present as she is wont to do.

She refocuses on you, timid and afraid. “What—what do you wish to know?”

You do not intend to press upon her reasoning further. The evening of the attempt upon your life, your sister had rambled on and on about ‘the time’ not being ‘right’. Any other may have claimed her mad, but you are certain that her mutterings are not the hallmark of insanity. No. Her decision is like to be driven by whatever signs and portents had been plaguing her dreams, the fractured visions of a child not yet meant to be. ‘Prophecy’ and ‘foresight’ are not words well-loved by the Faith, but her blood—that of Old Valyria—burns bright with magic lost to time.

Spool of green, spool of black; dragons of flesh weave dragons of thread.

You shudder at the recollection.

“How many times have you taken it?” you decide to ask. “Where are you getting it? Is it even safe?”

And that is the crux of the matter, is it not? One of your first thoughts had been anger toward her for risking her wellbeing so thoughtlessly. Moon tea, when brewed improperly, can cause all sorts of harm to a woman. You may not know much, but you do know this.

“I’ve taken a draught once a moon’s turn, partway between my blood’s expected coming,” she says quietly, eyes shining a little too bright to be anything other than tears. “I—the Maester has a supply.”

Your mouth parts in surprise. “Grand Maester Mellos? And he is giving it to you?”

It goes against everything you know of the man, far more concerned with his own perception of duty than that of offering succour to young Princesses frightened by the power of their own bodies. His maladaptive sense of obligation had led to your mother’s death in her childbed, scored open and bled out like a hunter’s prize game.

“No.” Helaena shifts guiltily in her seat, gaze flickering away again. She bites her lip. Her next statement rushes from her like a breaking dam. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

You catch her meaning immediately. “You are stealing it.” The judgement seeps out uninhibited.

“I’m sorry!” She clutches so tight upon your hand that you fear she may crack the bones. “I am not ready.” She sounds like a child. It is then that you remember that, for all intents and purposes, she is. “I want to be brave, like you. But I’m not.”

All at once, the ire departs, leaving little other than pity for the girl in front of you. To commit such acts as those Septa Marlowe had spent her entire life proselytising against—and you know this because she had subjected you to the very same—can only mean that she must have been very desperate.

My poor, sweet sister. You swallow the unpleasant acridity that hits your palate. It tastes like guilt.

“I should have fought harder. To stop your marriage, to—to take you with me,” you say. “It was awfully selfish of me to… let myself get caught up in my own life while you had to marry our deviant of a brother—”

She frowns. “I don’t hate Aegon as you do.” You had not realised your disdain for him was quite so vitriolic as to warrant such disapproval. “It is true that he is… not a good husband. We will never love each other like you and Uncle Daemon. But neither can we love each other as siblings should. Some days… I wonder where that leaves us.” She appears to have drifted off to some unknown part of her own mind, caught up in her convoluted thoughts and staring deeply into the polished oak surface upon which lay your refreshments. “But he is part of me, and I am part of him. Can that not just… be enough?”

If there had been nothing else to remind you that your place is no longer in the capital, this serves well enough. To hear her support for your brother is surprising, but perhaps it ought not to be. Too long have you allowed yourself to indulge the illusion that there is a clear separation between you and Aegon, that Helaena and Daeron had attached themselves to you while Aemond had traipsed about with his erstwhile brother, lines drawn and never to be crossed.

It is not so simple. You know this from experience.

“Alright.” You let the matter lie. There has been enough division amongst your family, and you are ashamed to realise how great a part you have taken in it as of late.

I must be better for Helaena’s sake, you resolve, taking your cup in hand and savouring the sweeter notes of the raspberry leaf tea as it percolates across your palate. It lacks the aroma that you have come to prefer in your hot drinks. Ire rises within you at the prospect of having become so accustomed to the taste of moon tea that you had developed a partiality to it.

It is then that an arbitrary thought crawls from the deep well of your mind.

Moon tea is by law a restricted substance. The Grand Maester is beholden only to the royal family. But then—

“Helaena,” you say slowly, searchingly. She looks back up from her own teacup. “The tea. Who is the Grand Maester brewing it for?”

She pauses, brow wrinkled. “I—I don’t know.”

“It has to be someone in the Red Keep.” You lean forward. The motion is hindered by the unwieldiness of your belly. “Your mother?”

You do not think your brother would care overmuch for preventing his seed taking root in another woman’s womb. Thus, if it is not Helaena, then it must be your lady stepmother. But Alicent is far too pious a creature to rid herself of a ‘blessing from the gods’, or so she would put it. Nor would it make sense for her to wish death upon her child before it enters the world, not after four previous successful births.

Though, you owe, it is entirely possible that she would request it made for any number of Aegon’s whores or maidservants or low-born companions after yet another eve of iniquity.

“Mother?” Helaena tilts her head incredulously. “What use would she have of it now?” My poor, naïve sister. You cannot bear to make implications as to her husband’s fidelity, and so you stay silent. She continues without noticing your turmoil. “Besides, she despises the very thought of it. She says that moon tea is an affront to the gods.”

A loud thump and shatter disturbs the relative peace of your conversation. You crane your head in the direction of the sound, startled to see your lady-in-waiting’s pale, pale face and her eyes wide with alarm. Her book is splayed on the stone floor, its pages soaking up the tea from the cup that is now shards of shattered porcelain before her.

“Senna,” you ask. “Are you alright?”

She looks as though she has seen an evil apparition or heard an unearthly echo from beyond the veil. “Yes, my Princess,” she says. Perhaps you would have been assuaged if not for the crack toward the end of her statement. Her lip trembles. She gulps. “I—”

Whatever she had intended to say does not come forth. Instead, she springs up from her seat, hastily sidestepping the chaos upon the ground and hurrying from the room through the solar door. You tug yourself from your chair using the edge of the table, glancing helplessly toward your sister.

“My apologies, Helaena—”

“Go see to her. I’ll stay here.”

You offer a brief appreciative smile before hastening after your companion, though admittedly your pace is slow and ambling. The weight of your middle tugs at your spine as you move. You grimace in discomfort.

Thankfully, Senna has not gone far. When you enter your solar—a room that you have not used once since being relocated—she is pacing through the weak light streaming in from the window, disturbing whorls of dust from the rug under her feet that dance iridescent in the glow. Her skin has taken on a ghastly pallor. It seems as though her lips have vanished from the sheer pressure at which she is pressing them together.

There is something deeply wrong here. You have never seen her so distressed.

“Senna?” You inch forward in unobtrusive increments so as not to startle her. “What is wrong?”

Your strategizing is for naught. She jumps in fright when hearing your voice echo in the stark chamber, entirely unaware that you had followed her through to relative privacy. Biting your lower lip, you ponder how best to coax a revelation from her.

You do not need to.

“I cannot keep this to myself any longer!” Clutching at her middle, you think Senna may have somehow injured herself—until she whirls to you, striding forward and sinking prostrate in front of you. “Oh, gods help me!” she wails, taking your hand as a penitent before a statue of the Mother. “Princess, please forgive me!”

A sinking suspicion settles in your gut. “Whatever is the matter?” you ask. A growing sense of foreboding looms near, one that leaches viscerally through your body, bitter and ashen upon your tongue. “I do not understand.”

She stares up at you with red-rimmed eyes, a contrast to the greyish hue of her flesh that is positively ghoulish. “I didn’t want to, I swear it! But you were so frightened about having children, and then you were married, and she told me that—”

Your stomach turns. The tea.

You no longer inhabit your body. Your soul has separated itself from its blood-and-bone prison and floats somewhere above, looking down upon this moment. There is an absurdity to the detachment, as though you are watching a garish pantomime or overdramatised spectacle designed for naught but sensationalism. It is not real. It is not real.

“It was you,” you hear yourself say as though through rushing water. You wonder if you might faint. “It was you?”

How long have I known her?

You had been but a youth when she first arrived to court, eagerly presenting herself for service to the royal family. Being so much more daring and adventurous and outspoken than you, the fact that you had become so close would seem unlikely to an outsider. At least, you had thought you were close. For her to have taken what little power you possessed over your own body, to steal any number of children that might have been before you had ever had the chance to know them, all at the apparent behest of another—

You swallow frantically, willing yourself not to expel the contents of your stomach.

“You know. Oh, gods. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She weeps, tipping her chin down and kissing your hand. You fight the unwelcome intrusion of the desire to yank yourself from her grip, to slap her or throttle her for her treachery. “I promise I was thinking only of protecting you!”

“By making me think I was barren? By taking my chance to make a true family? By—” You shake your head to try and dispel the ache that has settled itself there like a heavy stone, solid and relentless. Taking a deep, even breath, you force your voice to say the words your mind rails so desperately against. You do not wish to know. “Senna. Senna, look at me. If you want to protect me, you will confess who is behind this.”

You had been right. The truth, pouring from the mouth of your friend-turned-traitor, is a knife to the heart. It is not real, the timorous whisper of the frightened girl you had been resonates noiseless throughout your hollowed form, a plaintive exhale into the air. It is not real.

You spend seconds or minutes or hours staring blankly at the city, huddled like a child upon the bench on your balcony. In the distance, you can hear the screeching protestations of Athfiezar. He had appeared in the capital a day or so after the attack—or so you are told, having been confined to your bed at the insistence of Daemon and Ūlla and thus unable to visit your boy in person—swooping and snarling and making a general fuss as he is so often wont to do when you are upset. If you squint, you think you can see the great black bulk of him atop the Dragonpit.

King’s Landing is abuzz with its usual frenetic activity. Yet, the sights and smells and the waft of coastal wind upon your cheek hardly register.

“I did not want this for you.”

It seems like so long ago that Alicent had helped you prepare for your wedding. She had voiced her concerns about the match even then. Perhaps such a thing ought to have made you even more anxious and fretful than you already had been, but the honesty had been refreshing on a day in which all had made deliberate prevarications as to their true thoughts. A frightful few had been genuinely congratulatory of your being given to your uncle as a wife, and Alicent was certainly chief among the naysayers.

Never would you have expected her capable of this.

Senna had told you everything—of how Alicent had pulled her aside after your wedding night, how she had pressed a batch of the tea into her hands and persuaded her to ensure you imbibed it the following day, how Senna had at first thought it a mere gesture of kindness from a stepmother to her beloved daughter. When she had discovered what the concoction did, she had been torn between duty and her love for you. She could not disobey a directive from her Queen, but at the same time could not abide the thought of harming you. From what you were able to gather, Alicent had discerned this conflict and swayed her into the belief that keeping your womb empty of a babe was the best thing for you.

“You were always terribly quiet after your mother was mentioned, and you avoided talk of childbirth wherever possible,” Senna had said through tears. “I wanted to help.”

A noblewoman receiving shipments from King’s Landing would hardly have been an uncommon occurrence for one stationed on Dragonstone. And so, it had been all too easy for the Queen to procure the tea from Mellos and send it forward to your island home, where you had regularly partaken in its consumption for moons.

You remember having expressed to Senna some wistfulness after spending time with the Princess Sarella Martell and her daughters in Dorne. Evidently, this had been all the motivation needed to finally risk rebellion. The tea had stopped, and Daemon’s seed had finally taken root within you.

Daemon.

What do you do? Do you tell him? Should you tell him? The questions swarm like a thousand stinging bees, loud and painful and frightening in their veracity.

He will kill her—he will murder the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, will wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze the life from her if he discovers what she has done—

But perhaps Senna is lying. Perhaps she is so overcome by her guilt that she seeks to incriminate another, to control the tale before her victim has opportunity to speak for herself. You do not wish to believe it, but nor can you bear the thought of the woman you had once felt such affection for betraying you in such a manner.

Alicent’s routine remains unchanged despite the summers that have passed since her ascension to your father’s side. Thus, it is with anxious resolve that you finally gather the will to drag yourself from your chambers and step out in search of her.

Ser Lorent Marbrand stands to attention just outside your room, hand springing to the pommel of his blade. “Your Highness?” Peering intently into the room behind you, he—like all others in your service as of late—is vigilant to the extreme. “Do you require assistance?”

“I wish to speak with the Queen,” you say, stepping forward. He moves to block your path. You frown up at him. “Please step aside, Ser.”

“My apologies,” he says, dipping his head, “but Prince Daemon has given me strict instructions to ensure you remain within these chambers until he retu—”

“If my husband discovers that I have elected to ignore his directive to you, then that is firmly my business and my consequence to contend with. I will be meeting with my lady stepmother. So, it is your choice whether I go alone or am accompanied by the Kingsguard assigned to my protection.”

The merest flash of temper, coupled with a deliberately-placed hand on your belly, is enough to make the knight quail. He takes his place at your back as you walk on, traversing the halls of your childhood home toward the Sept.

You reach deep to cling onto all the stubbornness you possess as the murmurs and gasps follow you through the Keep, the courtiers no doubt surprised to see you risk a public appearance. Though your father and his Council had done their best to quash any rumour that might have sprung to life, the news of your attack has spread like wildfire amongst those hungry for gossip in the capital. You are not brave, not in the way Rhaenyra or Daemon are, but you are more than these people see you as. It is time they learn that you can be just as resilient as those survivors of the Doom.

When you stop before the staircase leading to the Sept, steep and winding—and you remember climbing these same steps moons ago, when you were lonely and afraid and knew nothing of love—you contemplate giving up and returning to your chambers. Sighing resignedly, you make use of the overcautious Kingsguard to navigate the treacherous ascent, holding onto his arm to lug your ungainly form up and up. Ser Lorent says nothing, which you appreciate, merely proffers his bulk as resistance so that you may totter your way to the upper landing.

Your heart thuds discordant in your chest as you look upon Alicent, knelt before the effigy of the Mother with her head bent low in prayer. A thousand candles flicker golden in the chamber, giving the dark space an eerie, haunted atmosphere. The light ripples across her hair like molten fire. It is musty here, stifled from the windows being covered in times of disuse. For a place dedicated to the gods, it feels remarkably like how you would imagine the Seven hells. Given the task you have come to fulfil, perhaps the comparison is apt.

She startles bodily at the sound of your footsteps growing ever closer, echoing around the room so loudly it is as though someone far larger than you stamps onward. Rising from her supplications, her shoulders slump minutely when she sees that it is only you.

Alicent utters your name in surprise. “You should be resting after your ordeal!” she says, gliding forward to meet you. Her hand reaches out to take your own—and you notice that she carefully avoids your belly— a look of such matronly kindness on her face that you all at once feel ill again. You can barely feel her touch. “Are you well?”

“The moon tea.” It falls from your lips without conscious choice. You had intended to broach the subject cautiously, to manoeuvre her into admitting the deed under her own duress, but it seems your voice has other plans.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, brow knitting in an affectation of confusion. From the way her fingers tighten hard upon your flesh, a momentary squeeze then release, it is but a performance. She knows of what you speak.

You pull your hand from hers, stepping back when she pursues. Her mouth begins to part, concern forming on her tongue in consummate deception.

“Do not—” you start; pause. Swallow against the bile. Try to take stock of where your heart is, for it has escaped the cavity of your chest and swims untethered through your body, swooping and irregular. “I know about the tea, Alicent. What you asked of Senna. I know everything.”

There. It is said now, and it cannot be taken back. A strange sense of relief co-mingles with the terror.

Though she forces a bewildered laugh, you can see her eyes widen in alarm, shine with the fear she keeps contained with a resolve that is far stronger than even Valyrian steel. Puzzlement crosses her features, a politely baffled smile playing on her lips. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of, darli—”

“Don’t lie to me!”

It hisses from you like a flame, sizzling and incandescent. Your fury is near a tangible thing, an entity that seethes and writhes with a force you had not yet known you were capable of. The reverberation of it thrums in your toes, hangs upon the air and in your ears as though you are still speaking, though the chamber is silent.

Alicent lets out a quick, shaky breath. Few would notice—but your years of isolation have honed your observance to a sharp point, a weapon by any other name. The severe line of her jaw belies her clenching teeth, a woman hanging to the last vestiges of her decorum. “I think you ought to retire to your rooms. You are clearly overcome.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” The hurt, wounded creature inside you rears up, and you must fight the tears that spring up at her continued refusal to concede her wrongdoings. You have cried far too often. It is time for strength. “I have been a good and devoted stepdaughter these many years, Your Grace,” you say. “I have been your daughter’s chief companion. I am raising your son. If you have any affection in your heart for me, you will tell the truth.”

It is calculated, but it works. She wavers, and the veil of hostility drops, leaving something conflicted and unsure. This iteration of your stepmother is new.

She looks away, seeming to turn inward on herself, slow and pondering. “When I was your age, I had already birthed a child and carried another,” she says, the resonance of it like stray whispers on a breeze. Her eyes are glazed as she stares at some point beyond your own fixation, brown turned gold in the firelight. “I remember how… confusing and frightening it was, being so young and having such a burden laid on my shoulders. Mothering the King’s heirs… To be the vessel bringing forth more Targaryens is a weight I did not wish you to bear.”

The soft, sickening pulse of sympathy warms you. Though you love your father, it is true that he has not made for a good husband. Alicent is being kind by evading such an implication, but her marriage has been one of steadfast endurance, a stiff upper lip and staunchly-maintained silence.

Then you truly process what has been said. “To be the vessel… is a weight I did not wish you to bear.” It is an admission of guilt in so many words.

Something inside you breaks.

“That was not your choice to make.” Your mouth is moving and the words come forth, but you feel again as though you have been unclipped from your physical form and left to float elsewhere, distant and divided. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palm and threatening to draw blood. The pain moors you to reality. You clench tighter. “It is my duty as a wife to have my husband’s children. I felt like a failure each time my blood came—because of you.”

“That could not be helped,” she says, the tone so staggeringly at odds with the callousness of such a statement. “You are far too gentle a creature for the likes of Daemon. What he did to your assailant—”

“He protected me,” you snap, incensed. “He loves me.”

The rumours of what had taken place in the early morning hours after your attack have swirled for days. All who have come to your chambers to attend you have given your uncle a wide berth, gaping at him with fearful eyes and muttering to each other under their breath. You know not if he has heard the whispers that seem to be trailing him, though it is equally possible he simply does not care.

“He stabbed the man so many times that they could not tell it was a body at first,” you had caught a pair of maids muttering.

“The Prince gutted him and strung his entrails out of the window as a warning—”

“He cut the wretch’s head off and drank the blood that spilled—”

“He broke every bone in his body and left him there for his family to find—”

No doubt the brutality that had occurred in that establishment—an inn or a tavern or a brothel, each report differing in its account—had been truly obscene. Daemon is a vicious man, needing no provocation to inflict himself upon others. You cannot imagine the carnage that had ensued after his wife and babes had been terrorised. Nor do you wish to ask, truthfully.

You had felt an iota of guilt for being so accepting of his brand of justice, being so loath of it; you recall the time you told him how you “disliked violence”, how you would “not allow unnecessary savagery” should you consent to marry him. It did not last very long in light of the circumstances.

He loves you, and for that love he had put to the sword those who sought to take your life.

Alicent scoffs, snapping you back to the present. “He was supposed to tire of you, to put you aside and seek out whatever else he might wish. Perhaps then you would be free to marry a man worthy of yo—”

“So you wished for me to be disgraced? The laughingstock of the Realm?” You laugh, icy and piercing. “You desired my unhappiness. Somehow, you have convinced yourself that doing so means you care for me above all others.”

The Queen retreats behind her mask of wintry cordiality, expression closing off entirely. Her mouth opens and closes, a response gathering but not quite fully-formed.

There is no turning back from this. You think that you will never see her look upon you with warmth again.

“It is he who has corrupted you so,” she says finally, disdainful and disappointed in equal measure. “Never would you have spoken to me in such a manner before he sunk his claws into you.”

“You do not get to behave as though I have wronged you. You act as though my uncle is some sort of monster, when it is you who has violated my body and my freedom.”

“Violated?” She sneers down her nose at you. “I would think that feat should be recognised as another’s. ‘Tis a shame to see you so ruined, stepdaughter. I hope being Daemon’s whore is worth it.”

The slap rings sudden and strident, your palm burning. You do not remember striding forward. Alicent shields her cheek with a hand, looking upon you with indignant trepidation. An eye for an eye, a strike for a strike. Your scarred arm tingles at your side, the line where the knife had carved your skin open prickling with a memory that seems distant now.

“I would rather be his whore than your saint,” you hiss, squeezing and releasing your fist to work away the buzzing sensation.

Silence pervades following your assertion, the last notes suspended soundless throughout the room. The statue of the Mother seems to stare down at you both, the lit altar casting her countenance into something eerie and judgemental. That the flames dance still upon their waxen mounts is surprising. ‘Tis a reminder that the world remains unchanged despite your feeling that the ground has shifted beneath your feet, shaking and unsteady.

“I will tell Papa of what you have done,” you say, preparing to depart. You have earned your confession, but there is no victory to be won here. “Return to your devotions, my Queen. Pray that he will be lenient.”

“Tell him? Whatever will you tell him?” she asks loftily, arrogantly, her brow arching. “You have no proof.”

You frown. “I have Senna—”

“The daughter of a minor noble house, or the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms? Who is the King likely to believe?” Alicent smiles unkindly, a mockery of the geniality she had once shown you.

She has a point. You cannot stand it. The moment the words had left your mouth, you had known your father will do nothing with such information. So determined is he to prevent conflict in his household that he will turn a blind eye to most anything to avoid the uncomfortable truth—that House Targaryen is breaking at the seams, each day bringing a new tear upon the fabric of what you imagine must have once been a true family.

It is too much. There is nothing more to say. The cards have been dealt, but the game is unwinnable. You are so, so tired. What is left for you in the capital? You want to go home.

I want Daemon and Athfiezar and Daeron and my babes. I want to go home.

“May the gods have mercy upon your soul for what you have done,” you say. “For my part—I hope you burn in the Seven hells.”

You leave her standing there alone in the Sept, the last refuge of a woman who has maimed all the love and affection that might have lingered from her girlhood years. Her effigies and her prayers and her piety are all that is left to her now. They will consume her from the inside out, scorch her to a shell of the smiling, tender-hearted youth you remember from so long ago.

Let her choke upon her airs of godliness, you think. One day, she will pay the price for her crimes.

You hope you are there to see it.

Read it on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44058132/chapters/114901333

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ohmtoff · 29 days

Note

we need more nsfw nerdy nick headcanons🫢

AAAAAA actually so happy you asked for more bc im kinda in love with nerdy nick now lmao (nsfw)

part 1 here

nerdy nick who decided to adopt a dog with you, naming it denji if it’s a boy or makima if it’s a girl.

nerdy nick who’s a part of a dungeons and dragons party that is about to start on a campaign. you better believe he has a pink dice‼️‼️‼️ he already made a long detailed background of his character (a tiefling sorceress) and he already sent it to his dungeon master. for this campaign, though, you decided to try to join and learn the game.

“Okay, so what’s your character idea?”

“Uhhh what about a warlock with a huge ass?”

on session 0 you were lost and tired an hour into the game, while on session 7 you were already in your character cosplay with nick and lasting 6 hours.

nerdy nick who was soooo scared of meeting your friends bc he was worried of being too much and too random and just too nerdy for your friends. he’d act like how he normally would when he first meet new people, making mundane small talk about your relationship and about himself, but you can see that after an hour in that he was exhausted by how he went so quiet.

noticing this you interrupted the convo to talk about the upcoming HoTD season, and you can see his face lighting up. one of your friends who watches the show would chime in and nick would excitedly start talking about it too, yapping about the targaryen lore, surprising but charming everyone of this new confident side of his. your friends also think he’s adorableee when passionate. you would do anything to not make him insecure of his interests anymore.

nerdy nick who got so horny seeing you cosplay as his favorite character for halloween that he made you keep the costume on when having sex. you had him exposed on his back that night, legs spread and high against your shoulders. “Fu—uck, oh fuck me harder, please,” he pathetically whined, and you loudly moaned, pounding harder into his hole, punching out loud but tiny ‘uh-huh!’s out of him with each thrust as drool slides down his chin. He absolutely looked well-fucked. his warm walls clenched as he came and shouted “Choso!” while he spurted across his stomach. The squeeze was enough for you to groan inside him, pumping him full of your warm cum.

“Did you actually just call me choso when you came?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

nerdy nick whose insecurities run deep bc not only did he grow up heavier than his brothers, he was also more invisible. he did have friends, but his tendency to ramble and lack of fashion sense made him less popular and desired. you can see it in how he always uses a top; be it in the beach, or sleeping, and sometimes even during sex. so when he met you he didn’t know what to do with all your compliments. he would just blush so hard and he’ll pretend to get mad at you like “shut uuuup! stop lying” and you’d unrelentingly smother him with kisses while calling him your “pretty boy” “handsome man” and all other praises that he deserves.

you make sure to make him know that he’s beautiful by worshiping the fuck out of his body. you’d pepper kisses from his thigh up to his tummy where he’s still covered by his shirt. it was one of those times when he’d not want to take off his shirt during sex because he felt more insecure than usual. you’d whisper mantras of praises along with the wet kisses, making him giggle and shudder bc your breath along the inside of his thigh tickled. “so, so pretty. how could you ever find it in yourself to not love this?” you emphasized the word with a bite of his thigh a strand away from his cock. you’d dedicate that night to just pleasing him, letting him fuck hard into your mouth, his hips ragged and desperately thrusting into your throat while you try to not gag on his big cock, your spit falling out of your mouth making his groin wet. you hands crawl up, up, up, driving his shirt upward to flick his nipples. at one point it gets too hot for him so he takes his shirt off and you smirked—success. his body curls and his words came out as broken sobs, wanting more. you pulled your mouth away which made him grip your hair in protest. you looked at the way his body glistened, his face flushed, his legs tremble, and you felt hungry. “Beautiful,” you panted. “So fucking beautiful. Drive me crazy with how beautiful you are. Can’t fucking believe you’re mine. Say you’re mine,” as you furiously fisted his angry red cock with hands soiled with his precum and spit. “i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yo—AHH!”

he never uses a shirt at the beach again.

a/n: woahhh wtf who wrote that

#this was longer than i expected #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #headcanon #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfiction

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weirdthinkingdragon · 8 months

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Tails Of Embrace (Fic)

half dragon Dan Heng X reader X half dragon Zhongli

Sorry, had female reader in mind while letting the idea flow through me. If anyone wants, they can make a male version or gn version their way. Be sure to tag me. I’d love to see your take on it!

Not proofread

Warnings: a bit of talk of different dragon-like anatomies, oral (reader receive), non-canon biology of both characters, praise, some swearing, growling, double vaginal, pet name “my dear”, multiple orgasms, fingering, overstimulation, tail fucked, biting, marking, no protection

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The relationship somehow starting was odd enough. But yet it’s a thing you, Zhongli, and Dan Heng wouldn’t have any other way.

Over time, them having their tails around you started to quickly become even more common than how often Asta impulsively buys something online.

Their tails are constantly within your proximity if they can’t be on or around you for one reason or another. They’re rather clingy and Zhongli has a bit of a violent streak when several things have tried to cause you harm in the past before. Oddly enough it’s Dan Heng that gets him back to himself enough to get restraint over his ways again. They seem especially bad the past month or so. The others are getting used to it by then and just letting it happen (Himeko finds it rather amusing/entertaining). Welt doesn’t seem to show any problem with it. March finds it extremely cute and has a possibly concerning amount of pictures of you three falling asleep on the couch together stored in her camera.

Dan Heng and Zhongli also almost always seem to have a crazy amount of understanding and respect between each other and know how to take turns in a way. One time while you’re all sitting down, Zhongli’s tail will be wrapped around your torso while Dan Heng settles with wrapping his tail around one of your legs, and the next time they switch.

It took some time to start sleeping together, but it grew to be sort of the same way. You try to not think back to how awkward it was at the beginning. Thankfully Zhongli is good at smoothing things over with how many years os types of experience in talking he’s had on his world. The only difference is one gets to keep their tail between your thighs for the time.

This time it was Zhongli. Lying down on the bigger bed Asta more than willingly bought for you three has made things a lot more comfortable. Before it was just Dan Heng’s little space area on the floor, but he finally accepted to come to the room with you and Zhongli. Himeko couldn’t have been happier about that day.

It’s been about half a year of being together. Zhongli knew what was starting to happen to him a week ago, but has somehow forgotten to ever bring it up. He had hoped leaving Teyvat would be what would cancel out his dragon ways, but being around you and Dan Heng made him realize especially now that his idea was fruitless.

The deep burning desire was just way too hard to shove away no matter how hard he tried and wanted to not do so, especially if you and Dan Heng aren’t ready yet.

But he just… he can’t help it or hold it any longer. Your now heightened smells to him mixed all together are driving him absolutely mad.

He still tries to hold himself together while you and Dan Heng enjoy the physical contact with each other and him yet again.

You and him laying on your right sides while Zhongli is on his left, facing you. Dan Heng laying behind you with his incredibly long tail wrapped a few times around your left leg by your ankle. He teasingly brushes the tip of his tail to tickle your leg from time to time.

Zhongli doesn’t even notice he starts doing it, but his tail between your legs starts to rub at your pussy, earning a surprised squeak from you louder than the one that comes out with Dan Heng suddenly brushing his tail tip against your leg.

“What was that sound for? I didn’t tickle your leg this time.” His voice asks from behind. It is still so rather monotone that if you didn’t know him better you’d probably think he wasn’t curious, yet you could tell he was.

“Zhongli! What was that for?”

It was only then that he noticed was his tail was doing.

“Ah, well… I was hoping that leaving Teyvat would help stop what is happening now, but I suppose one’s nature is going to follow them wherever they go.” He takes his tail out from between your legs, though he really doesn’t want to. The warmth feels so incredibly good. Being so close just makes him want to indulge in even closer proximity.

“It’s with me being a dragon from my world, essentially. To put it simply, I’m going into a heat.”

Your mind stalls when taking in that information. It’s something you never really thought about until now.

“Your kind has those in your world?” Dan Heng asks.

“Yours don’t?” The slight change in his tone made it known he was quite curious about the other world’s different customs.

“Not really. A rare few seem to, but most don’t. At least not anymore. It’s something that changed over a very long period of time.”

“Oh?” He involuntarily rubs his tail between your legs again. “It seems we’ve much to know of each other as of yet then.”

His tail rubbing you felt good. Possibly too good. You hold in a groan that tries to slip out.

Upon looking at Zhongli now, he has a very strong blush on his face. He’s so flushed he almost looks drunk. In a way, he is. He’s solely drunk on you even though almost nothing has happened yet.

You’ve thought about the more intimate things that might come later in the relationship with the two of them, but you weren’t expecting quite this soon. Your mind starts to wander and run wild with the thoughts of what might happen soon. You’re more than ready and want to further the relationship of you three, but are unsure of Dan Heng’s thoughts on it.

Little do you know that now Dan Heng knows what Zhongli is going through, it’s also starting to affect him with the idea of mating you. To make you fully and truly only theirs to mark and give insurmountable pleasure.

Also, with how close you and Dan Heng are, he can also slightly feel Zhongli’s tail rubbing on his dick.

Dan Heng wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer, trapping the tip of Zhongli’s tail between your ass and his slightly starting to bulge dick.

It was like a silent agreement between the three of you that you all want to go on.

Dan Heng decides to check to make sure the door to the room is locked. The last thing needed is someone trying to come in for one reason or another. He gets up and goes to check the door while you and Zhongli sit up. You grab Zhongli’s tail and start slowly yet gently rubbing your hands up and down the sides of it, making it twitch in your hold and eliciting a deep groan to come out of his throat. That groan alone set you and Dan Heng off more.

He comes back and sits behind you again, pulling you to sit up with him, which makes Zhongli sit up as well.

Zhongli kneels and reaches for your shorts. Before you can even blink, he temporarily loses control and rips your shorts and underwear off in one go with his hands that are growing sharper into much more like claws.

It makes you let out a sound of surprise.

Zhongli did truly feel a bit bad if he scared you. “A-ah, I do apologize. I seem to have gotten a bit… carried away. It’s so hard to control myself around you, especially right now.” He glances down at your pussy, knowing what he strongly wants to do before anything else. Taste you. Really taste you. Smell you. Make it feel like there’s no escape from your scent. Not like he’d ever want to be away from it in the first place.

His pupils turn more into slits, and his face changes to show an extreme amount of lust and sheer need. His eyes almost look like they change to a faintly glowing liquid gold.

The lustful expression is radiating so strongly that you can feel his intentions even without thinking about it.

He lowers himself to his stomach to be at eye level with the most sacred part of you. Who is he kidding? Every single minute detail about you is sacred to him and Dan Heng as well. He grabs your thighs and places your legs over his shoulders, surrounding himself with you. The burning desire searing through him already becoming insanely uncomfortable.

Just looking at your unmarked thighs has his mind going absolutely wild thinking of leaving his bite marks all over. He caves and does start biting your thighs. The teeth marks left on your thighs right by your pussy makes him let out a pleased hiss and a small grin on his face.

Dan Heng cages the rest of you with his legs. He pulls your sleep shirt up to take it off. You lift your arms with no objections.

However, once the shirt is off, you try to cover yourself feeling a bit embarrassed.

Neither of them was having that. Dan Hang makes your arms go down and wraps his tail around your stomach, keeping your hands trapped as well. Knowing you can’t move your arms turns you on more than you think it should.

Zhongli takes a deep breath in. “Fuck- It’s hard to hold back. I can’t. I need to taste you, my dear.” And with that, his more slender tongue slips through your folds without much resistance.

His deep growl of approval of your taste sends a shiver down your spine. He pushes rather firmly on your clit before going down and pushing to move around your G-spot before coming back out and rubbing your clit rather firmly again. Your body tries to jerk, but it has nowhere to move with a tail being snugly wrapped around you, your legs being over shoulders, and your thighs being carefully held by clawed hands.

The only thing you can do is grab his horns that were within reach of your small remaining window of possible movement. You clench your hands around his horns tightly.

Zhongli lets out a chuckle. "If we knew you had such an obsession with our horns, we would have more than gladly allowed you to touch them, you know?” He teases.

Dan Heng gently grabs your head to turn towards him a bit more and kisses you deeply, having his hands wander from the top of your shoulders towards your chest, cupping them then running his thumbs over your nipples, turning it into rubbing them. He asks for entrance of your mouth by running his tongue over your lips. You gladly allow him access.

He slips his tongue in and swallows every moan you let out, enjoying your muffled sound and vibrations of your own mouth on his.

You can feel Dan Heng’s dick quite quickly bulging more and pressing more on your ass with each minute that ticks by, but that gets harder to focus on as the pleasure becomes overbearing and the only possible thing you can think about. That coil is becoming close to coming undone and your body heating up exponentially.

Dan Heng knows you’re close as your body tries to jerk more harshly than before. He grabs your nipples between his fingers and pinches them rather harshly, bringing that wave of pleasure to burst and come crashing down.

You cum hard all over Zhongli’s face. It was the most intense orgasm by far that you’ve ever had in your life.

Zhongli lets out another deep growl of approval feeling your juices get all over his face. Your scent being all around him now makes him want to fuck you so badly. His pants are super tight and very uncomfortable. Probably also soaked with a lot of precum. He has to hold himself back from taking you right there though. You’re not quite ready yet. Plus, he also wants something else in you to help stretch your pussy for him since he can’t exactly finger you right now. His tail tip flicks in anticipation.

He locks eyes with Dan Heng. “Would you mind helping me prepare her?”

Dan Heng doesn’t have to be asked twice. He gives a final grope to your left breast and slowly trails his hand down to your stomach, to slowly down in front of your pussy. Giving Zhongli a little anticipating show on the way.

He watches with great interest as Dan Heng’s two fingers slowly go into you, splitting open and moving around to let out loud wet squelches that are like music to his ears.

Dan Heng slowly pushes them inside you up to his knuckles, opening his fingers to show deeper inside you as well as stretch you a bit, then closes his fingers and twists them to your g-spot.

He hungrily watches Dan Heng repeat his movements and gets to watch your facial expressions this time every time his hand moves in a way you like.

Dan Heng eventually adds a third finger, making you arch your back into his hand.

He doesn’t quite let you reach your peak into another orgasm, making you miss feeling something in you immediately when he pulls out his fingers. It was at that moment you knew what you wanted.

They wait for a moment to let your body calm down a bit from you looking like there’s something you want to say.

You manage to collect your thoughts. “I… I want both of you at once.”

Zhongli and Dan Heng share a concerned look with each other before looking back at you. “Are you sure?” Zhongli asks.

You nod. You do desperately want both no matter what. They’re your everything. And neither deserves to be left out.

There’s a slick mess all over your lower body, and it just keeps coming out. Zhongli moves his tail to your opening and swipes up some of your juices before pushing a bit inside. The feel of his tail is a bit strange, but not unpleasant. The stretch of the rest of it makes you focus more on that though.

Zhongli cups your face and leans in to kiss you deeply. And just like Dan Heng, you gladly give him access. He’s almost panting with how hard he’s restraining himself, but he knows waiting to the end will be the highest reward.

Dan Heng goes back to playing with your nipples and leans down to nibble on your neck. His hot, uneven breath shows how needy he’s getting as well. He also can’t hold it any longer and brings the tip of his tail down to be with Zhongli’s. He wraps his with Zhongli’s making them both shiver and pushing his inside to join Zhongli’s.

Two tails being inside you give a bit of an uncomfortable stretch. You all three moan. Them from how tightly your pussy is clenching their tails and how warm you are, and you with how full their tails alone are making you feel.

They slowly move around to fully stretch you as much as possible. Your pussy tightening around them making it rather difficult.

Dan Heng goes right by your ear. “It’s alright. Just- ngh. Just let go.”

“You’re doing a fantastic job so far with us. You feel phenomenal, my -ngh, my dear.”

They do a few light thrusts from time to time and still try to move around a bit inside you. However, their last remaining patience is waning very quickly. They strongly just want to be in you, to embrace you at the same time.

Dan Heng reaches down and rubs your clit harshly until another orgasm is ripped out of you, greatly tightening around their tails.

They let you catch your breath again for a moment and think you’re finally ready and slowly pull their soaked tail tips out.

Dan Heng finally lets you out of the rest of his tail and takes off his clothes. So does Zhongli. Being able to see their fully naked bodies for the first time sends you into an overdrive of need you didn’t even know you had.

They are no better as they fully get to stare at you as well. It doesn’t take long though as Zhongli pulls you to stand up and hoists you to wrap your legs around his waist. You feel his large dick right against your pussy.

Zhongli is in absolute bliss being able to feel only your full skin and body heat against his. “You ready for us, dear?” He asks still a bit out of breath.

You nod and that’s all he needed before he couldn’t wait any longer and slowly started to press his dick against your pussy until it easily went in. He kept pushing in until his dick was fully sheathed and let out another very satisfied sound of what somehow sounded like a mix of a hiss and a moan.

One dick alone made you feel rather filled. But that’s not what you or they want. You want to be fully filled. And they want what you want.

Dan Heng comes behind you and helps you stay on Zhongli by giving a bit of back support. His dick also near your entrance. He grabs your hips and slowly presses his in for you to slightly adjust.

They both suck in a breath through their clenched teeth at how tight you are with the both of them and how they feel being pressed against each other inside.

It’s a bit more unbearable than you thought it would be, and they both can sense your discomfort. Even after they stretched you out with their tails, that was nothing in comparison with their dicks. It honestly hurt quite a bit never having double so large in your pussy.

Zhongli brings up one of his hands to your face and brings his forehead to lightly press against yours. You can feel his horns press against your head. He stays like that to try to comfort you.

“It’s okay, we won’t move until you tell us. Just try to ease your body. We’ll take care of the rest.” He kisses the left side of your neck.

It does take a little bit, but the pain and the discomfort soon becomes nothing but pleasure and a delightful fullness.

You grab onto Zhongli’s horns again.

Zhongli would gladly admit it if asked, but he absolutely loves you grabbing on his horns. Only you though. No one else ever can, except Dan Heng. But he doesn't think Dan Heng would unless asked. “Can we take that as the go-ahead?”

You let out a nod. “Y-yeah.”

They quickly set a rather fast pace. Zhongli more so for finally being able to give in to his heat. Almost at a brutal pace, but neither you nor Dan Heng mind it.

Dan Heng feels so good that instinctively his much longer tail wraps around you and Zhongli, sandwiching the three of you closer into the same movements.

Your pussy is never left empty as one pulls out to thrust back in, the other is already in to pull out and thrust again.

Their cocks rubbing against each other making it feel even better in your already tight pussy to you and to them.

Dan Heng quickens his pace not too long after to partially match Zhongli’s as well. His tail tightens around you and Zhongli a bit more, making your chest rub against Zhongli’s with every thrust, making him go even deeper into his heat craze.

Zhongli can feel himself getting close fast. Dan Heng and your’s moans and sounds, the wet squelching of your pussy with both of them, and both of your skin against his is driving him mad to breaking point.

He leans down and sinks his teeth into the right side of your neck and lets out a muffled roar as he cums. His cum almost seems endless as it just keeps flooding into you. Much of it falling to the floor. His hips jolt with every rub of Dan Heng’s dick rubbing against his, but he refuses to pull out though his dick is now sensitive.

The extra warmth and lubricant of Zhongli’s cum brings Dan Heng to his end sooner than later. He’s getting really close so he brings his hand down to your clit yet again and rubs rough circles.

Your hips buck greatly too, clit still sensitive from the previous orgasm and clit rubbing.

That coil unravels and yet another earth-shattering orgasm is ripped out of you. This one is even more powerful than the others.

You cumming and clenching around the two of them makes Dan Heng cum as well with a loud moan that he managed to stop by biting the other side of your neck.

The three of you stay in place to catch your breaths.

Dan Heng can’t remember ever feeling this way. He’s glad that this won’t be a one-time thing.

Just looking at you and Dan Heng this way was making his dick hard again. He hopes you and Dan Heng can handle a few more rounds. It will take more than that one time for his heat to go away.

“After you both rest a bit… ready for another round?”

You and Dan Heng can feel him hardening again.

It’s going to be a long night apparently.

Well, heats sure are fun.

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An- A second fic of Zhongli giving oral to reader. I am not sorry >:-) I also tried my best. Idk if I’m very good at NSFW yet lol. Sorry if the view thing was a bit confusing, still trying to figure out writing things not in first person pov.

tags: @satosugumyfuckingbeloveds

@iruiji

@esthelily

#genshin #x reader #genshin impact #zhongli genshin x reader #dragon zhongli x reader #dragon zhongli #x you #dragon dan heng x reader #dragon dan heng #dan heng #star rail x reader #honkai star rail #inbibitor lunae #dan heng bibitor lunae

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witchofhimring · 8 months

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Being the daughter of Laena Velarion

Laena Velarion x daughter reader (platonic)

Reader is the daughter of Laena and Daemon

-Laena will instantly love you. She had always wanted a girl and she would end up with three! From the moment you are born she is desperate to hold you. You grandparents will be nearby to see the baby, their first grandchild to have their blood. Now there is Daemon. Daemon clearly has expectation he wants his kids to live up to. Unfortunately if you are not living up to those expectations then his attention will mostly be on Baela. In this case Laena will mostly be the one to step in.

You and your sister Rhaena were both curled up on your mothers lap, listening to the crackle of the fire. Baela and your father were in the next room reading some rare ancient Valyrian scroll. Although Daemon Targaryen was not an absent father it was clear Baela was the main source of his attention. She was a scholar, warrior, orator of articulate words and a dragonrider. Rhaena and yourself could claim no such titles. Laena hummed some old tune from her childhood. You caught some of the words, your Valarian was lacking. Laena's fingers ran through your braids. Eyes closed and you allowed yourself to be lulled into a deep sleep.

-Laena's idea of a good time is a nice long walk on the beach and a picnic, especially on visits to Driftmark. But as much as she loves some quiet the festivals taking place in the market place at Pentos are what bring her the most joy. The entire family will head out to the market and revel in the festivities. Your childhood is filled with lots of traveling and adventures. Laena loves to dance with you, leading you by your little hands.

The sun hammered down on the busy crowd below. Music drifted through the heir as colourful silks fluttered amongst the hectic to-and-fro. In the centre was a mother and her daughter dancing to the music. Laena took the lead, twirling her little girl about. Laena picked her daughter in into the air. Y/n sqealed with delight as the salty air tickled her skin. People stopped to stair, watching some of the last Valarians dancing about.

-On days were no one feels like going out Laena loves to to sit by the fire and drink a warm drink her mother use to make. Pillows and blankets will be set up. As the rain pitter-patters on the ground you stay safely inside. It feels nice be protected by the elements. Laena will wrap an arm around your body as you curl up next to her. The five of you (including Daemon and your sisters) will sit around and listen to his stories about Old Valyria.

"Daenys Targaryen recived a vision from the Valyrian Gods, our Gods. And in that dream she saw Valyria in flames. Smoke choked the life of entire bloodlines, dragons fell from the sky and the worlds greatest civilization ended. Except house Targaryen. Aenar Targaryen chose to leave his home and all he knew, with the last dragons of Old Valyria. And there they stayed on their island. Until Aegon the Conqueror." Baela was already asleep in her fathers arms. You and Rhaena were leaning on your mother, moments from sleep. As your fathers soft voice and mothers warmth surrounded you, sleep came over.

#laenor velaryon #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #laena x reader #laena velaryon x reader #daemon targaryen

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ladyloveandjustice · 23 days

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After watching Episode 13 of the anime, I begun to wish we'd seen Marcille waking up and her reaction to the decision to go back to the surface. So I wrote it.

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Empty Arms

Marcille could feel Falin's warmth against her, her flushed skin, her heartbeat, her whispery breath tickling Marcille's face. She ran her fingers through Falin's fluffy hair, soft as downy feathers. She could always feel Falin's magic when she did that, mysterious and as infinite as the sky. She already smelled like Falin again, the sharp scent of new soil and fresh fruit. There was no trace of the bubblng blood and dragon viscera Marcille had dragged onto her bones. Falin was whole, Falin was safe. Marcille sank into sleep, feeling complete at last.

And then she woke up to find there was nothing but cold air. Her arms were empty. She looked frantically for Falin, but all she could see was him, his terrible violet eyes. Mine, he said.

Marcille's eyes snapped open. She tasted the rancid medicine in her mouth, and she saw Laios sitting solemnly by her side, and she knew it hadn't been a dream. It was all real. She coughed out some gunk, and tried to sit up. The edges of her vision blurred and the world tilted. Ah, right. No mana.

"Hey," Laios held her shoulders to steady her. "Are you okay?"

Of course she wasn't okay, but she nodded curtly.

"We're going back to the surface, so you'll be able to recharge your mana soon."

That was the last thing she'd expected him to say. "What? No. we're not. We have to go after Falin right now."

"In your condition?"

"We'll find another spirit to eat. I'll be fine." Marcille forced herself up on shaky legs, shrugging off Laios' hands. Senshi and Chilchuck were here too, watching her warily.

"Marcile, no. I wanted to as well, I get it, but Chilchuck convinced me, We need to get supplies, we need to tell people that's going on and get help, that's the only way we'll have a chance of saving Falin."

"Chilchuck," Marcille snorted. Of course Mr. Paid Up Front wanted them to run and leave Falin behind

"What was that?" Chilchuck snapped.

Marcille ignored him."We can't go back. It'll be too late. What he was doing to her, it was magic I'd never seen before, I won't waste another second, you don't know what he's capable of, but I felt it, I felt his magic, I felt his hold on her!" She was babbling, she knew, but she didn't care. She took a shaky step forward, the world spinning. "If you won't go, I'll go by myself."

"Marcille!" Laios' eyes widened in shock. He was used to her following his lead in the end, trusting his call. Even with resurrecting Falin, she'd included him, asked him if it was okay. But that was because she'd known he'd say yes. She'd known that just like her, he'd do anything for Falin, break any law, take any risk. At least that's what she'd thought. If he'd said no back then, she would have done it anyway, and since he was saying no now, she'd do what she had to.

Marcille fell to her knees, legs too weak to continue on. Propping herself up on her elbows, she began to crawled toward the door, dirty stone staining her sleeves.

"See! I told you! I told you!" Chilchuck said to Senshi, but the dwarf was watching her with sorrowful eyes. "Lass, you're only hurting yourself."

Laios crouched down and grabbed Marcille's arm. "We will save Falin, but we can't do that if we die. We need to take care of each other too. You didn't see it, but Chilchuck was crying, Marcille! He was crying and begging us not to die!"

Chilchuck swore at Laios in his own language. "Listen, you--"

"He was not," Marcille muttered. Chilchuck had probably never cried in his life.

"I was not!" Chilchuck agreed. "That doesn't count as crying!"

"He was! He bared his soul because he cares abut us!" Laios continued doggedly.

"He cares about you and Senshi, maybe. I'm just a dark elf who does evil magic and causes trouble," Marcille snapped.

"For the love of-- are trying to make me apologize to you by pretending to go insane again?" Chilchuck pointed at her accusingly. "Well, it's not working this time!"

Marcille shook her head and jerked her arm out of Laios's grip. She inched forward again.

"He said he's taking care of three people, so that obviously includes you! Chilchuck, she really doesn't believe it. You need to cry for her too. Dig up those emotions again." Laios was waving his arms around frantically.

"No way!"

"Then at least tell her you care about her and don't want her to die!"

Marcille was at the door. She reached for the handle and pulled herself up with a groan.

"Ugh, fine! Marcille, I care about you and don't want you to die!"

The sincere distress in his voice stopped her. She'd never heard him talk like that before. She hesitated, her lip trembling. "None of you understand. It was my fault. I should have known something was wrong. Her magic felt different, like there was heat to it, like it was reaching out in all directions..."

Marcille remembered Falin holding her hand in the bath, the strange, brief surge of excitement that raced through her , and then feeling her magic so intense, so wrong, so overwhelming...but she'd just ignored it.

Her fingers slipped off the doorknob and she fell. Laios grabbed her. Even Chilchuck and Senshi rushed forward. "It wasn't your fault. We were all there, and we all couldn't stop it. From what I hear, you're the only reason we even survived to fight another day." Laios said. Chilchuck and Senshi nodded.

Tears bubbled out of her eyes. "I held her. She was right there and I held her. She was finally with us again! It's not fair."

"I know," Laios said, leading her back to her mat. "And we're going to find her and hold her again. I'm never letting go. And I know you won't either."

"We're here to help ya, whatever comes," Senshi said.

Marcille curled in her mat, tears nearly blinding her "Okay, okay."

A few seconds passed and then..."That was pretty dramatic."

The orc woman, who seemed to have been waiting at the window, came through the door. Marcille covered her mouth defensively.

The orc sneered at her. "You look so pathetic." But her expression softened. "Your loyalty is surprising, though. I've never seen an elf care so much about anyone besides themself, much less someone of another race. Didn't think it was possible. You should listen to your friends, you're too weak to do much right now."

She turned to Laios. "You'll be leaving soon then?"

"Yes, thanks for everything."

Since Marcille couldn't walk, Laios had to carry her piggyback. Completely humiliating, especially in front of the orcs, as they said their goodbyes. A few.chuckled at her, but the leader simply looked at her and said, "I hope you find your wife, long-ears."

"My-my what?" Marcille sputtered,

"Mate? Lover? I don't know what terms you elves use. Hope you find her."

"I--!"

"Let's go!" Chilchuck groaned.

She did not want to interrogate the rush of joy she felt at the orc calling Falin her lover. All that mattered was that she get better, and bring Falin back.She tightened her fingers against Laios' shoulders. She would do that as many times as it took. No matter who she had defeat or what taboo she had to destroy.

But...she thought, as Laios steadily carried her, as Senshi and Chilchuck walked beside them...at least she wouldn't have to do it alone.

#marcille donato #marcille #falin touden #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #farcille #laios touden #chilchuck #senshi dunmeshi #senshi dm #fanfic #my fanfic

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venti-venus · 28 days

Text

Puff, the magic dragon - J. B x Reader

a/n: julien baker if u can hear this save me

It's four am. Y/N walked outside of her shared house, shivering as the cool wind hit her. A light drizzle came down off the porch's roof, and the sound of a few early morning birds chirped about. Y/N gently closed the front door and saw her wife, Julien, sitting down and smoking a cigarette.

"Oh, hey," She exhaled, looking up at Y/N through the thick cloud of smoke. Her big, brown eyes glistening in the moonlight. "Whatcha doin' up?"

Y/N sleepily shook her head. "Couldn't sleep." She sat down beside Julien with a shiver, "God, it's cold out here."

Hearing what she said, Julien quickly took off her coat and tossed it onto her wife with a smirk. "Better?"

"Yeah," Y/N nodded, leaning onto Julien's shoulder. She sighed, watching the air leave her lips due to how cold it was. Nothing was more crisp and cool than December air.

Julien took another puff, then wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulder. Y/N took her hand, playing with the abundance of rings that Julien always wore. They had almost always been on her fingers, during tours, rehearsals, every smoke break. Y/N loved playing with them. Julien leaned closer to plant a gentle kiss on her head, inhaling Y/N's coconut shampoo.

"So perfect," Julien whispered, closing her eyes. Her breath tickled against Y/N's neck as she rubbed soft circles against her upper back. Both of their breathing in sync.

"C'mon, lets head inside." Julien sighed, her voice filled with warmth.

Y/N sighed as she was about to get up, when suddenly Julien grasped onto her waist and threw her over shoulder. Y/N's eyes flutter in surprise, letting out a squeal.

“Jules!” Y/N wiggled in her grasp, "Let me down!"

“Not a chance, princess.” She replied cheerfully, a huge grin on her face.

She carried her inside the house as Y/N kicked her feet trying to get away. Julien span her around in the hallway until they both ended up getting dizzy, and finally plopped Y/N down on the bed. As they both struggled to catch their breath from laughing so hard, she plopped down on the bed next to her, giggling.

Y/N brushed a strand of hair out of Julien's face and sighed, “You’re so cute, even when you’re trying to kill me.”

#julien baker #julien baker x reader #boygenius #boygenius x reader #i’m totally cool abt this #wlw x reader #woc friendly #woc!reader #let’s go lesbians!!

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ctitan98official · 3 months

Text

Anonymous: cute scenario popped into my head, 2 yr old reader pretending to be a big scary dragon like momma Alcina and constantly biting at her and their sisters legs, just out of nowhere because the reader can hide in such small spaces

Adorable T^T Let’s get into it!

One day, you are cuddling with Bela as she reads to you. Suddenly, you hear a weird noise from outside. You look out the window next to the chair the two of you are sitting in and… The shadow of a… Creature comes into view. You follow it with your little eyes until you finally see… A dragon. Wow! Those are real? You thought they were just made up like in books. You wiggle your little legs in excitement and laugh as you take in the dragon. It’s a gorgeous and frosty white.

Bela stops reading when she sees what you’re so excited about. “Do you see Mama, Y/N?” She asks with a smile.

You look at her in confusion. Why is Bela talking about your Mama? You eagerly point at the dragon. Maybe she didn’t see it?

Bela grins and hugs you closer to her. “That is Mama, Y/N. The dragon is her.” She explains.

You giggle in disbelief. That can’t be right. Is she serious? While Cass and Dani enjoy joking with you, and sometimes try to convince you about silly nonsense, Bela has never steered you wrong. But, you just can’t see it. How could that possibly be your Mama?

Bela can see the confusion on your face and chuckles. She decides to let her mother handle this. She kisses your cheek and gets you settled back onto her lap before she continues reading. Your shock at seeing the dragon has eventually worn off and Bela’s voice is lulling you to sleep…

When you wake up, you are in your Mama’s arms. The perfect way to end your nap.

Alcina smiles down at you. “Hello, my love.” She says gently and kisses you on the head.

You suddenly remember something. “D'agon! D'agon!” You say and point at her.

Alcina chuckles. “Did you like seeing Mama as a dragon?” She asks.

Wait… Mama knew you had seen the dragon… And it really was her? You are blown away. You soon laugh and nod. “Grrr!” You say, holding up your hands like claws and trying to sound ferocious. You want to be a dragon like her!!

Alcina is tickled to see how happy her transformation made you. “Do you want to be a dragon, my darling?” She asks and gently runs her fingers across your cheeks.

“Yeah!” You say excitedly.

“Well, there are a few things you need to know.” Alcina beams and softly picks you up to put you in front of her.

“Dragons talk to each other just like people. They just sound differently. Give me a roar, draga.” She encourages.

“RAAAARRR!” You say enthusiastically.

Although you are trying your best to be intimidating… Alcina has never been more charmed. You’re absolutely adorable. “Good job, baby.” Alcina praises. “Now, how do dragons get around?” She asks.

You smile “Fly!” You answer.

“Good! Excellent, draga. Do you want to show Mama how you fly?” She asks.

You raise and lower your arms repeatedly, hoping you will magically begin to fly… You pout when you realize you can’t.

Alcina chuckles at your disappointed face. “Here, draga. Mama will help.” She says and picks you up to hold you above her head.

You squeal in delight as Alcina carefully maneuvers you around in the air. You’ve had so much fun. You want to be a dragon from now on. You’ve already decided.

——————————————————————————

About a week has passed and you are obsessed with pretending to be a dragon.

You already love to chew on things, but you’ve recently started to branch out to full on biting… Dragons are fierce, right?

Your sisters and mother are getting a bit weary from your constant biting, but they also kind of encourage your actions. You’re just too cute as a baby dragon.

In addition to enabling your behavior, your sisters actually love to help you get into character.

Cass makes you a dragon costume. She’s a talented artist.

Dani is always a princess and you’re a dragon when you play pretend together. You two could play for hours.

When Bela reads to you, it has to be a story about dragons.

You’re also very tiny, so you start to crawl into hiding spots and wait for someone to come near. Your new signature attack is to pop right out of the little nook you’re currently in and bite at people’s legs. Then you easily retreat back into your hiding spot.

Cass is your first victim. She quickly swarmed away the first time you lunged out and bit her. She was convinced the castle was haunted. “T-there’s a ghost in there!” She sobs on Alcina as she brings her to the room she was just in.

Alcina furrows her brow in confusion. “In here?” She asks, standing right in front of your hiding spot.

You immediately reach out and bite her leg… Well, ankle. She’s a big Mama.

“Bitch suck!” She instantaneously curses. She never curses. You got her good.

You and Cass both start laughing at Alcina’s… Interesting outburst.

When you get a chance to bite Dani’s leg, however… She takes it personally. “Y/N hates me!” She wails for a long time afterward… You try your best not to do it to her anymore.

Luckily, Bela was already briefed by Alcina about your new game. When it eventually happens to her, she’s not nearly as startled as she would have been without a heads up.

Your sisters and mother can withstand your tiny little bites if it means you have fun. (Honestly, its good payback for all the servants they’ve eaten).

Masterlist

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #re8 lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 shitpost #re8 incorrect quotes #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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delulu-sushi · 3 months

Text

Always By Your Side - Part 3

Previous! -> Next!

TR Spoilers! (Obv ;P)

TW: Cursing! (Middle school cursing lol)

June 19, 2003

The wind is tickling your ears as you move your hair in front of it in an attempt to warm your ears from the cold breeze. But the moment you let go of his waist, Draken speeds up, prompting you to quickly grasp on his shoulder

"What the fuck Draken?" You scream in his ear, overdramatizing the incident.

"Hold on tight, loser," Draken shouts with a smirk as Mitsuya speeds by.

You watch the others go up as you stay at the bottom of the stars, anticipating Baji and Mikey (the boys know about your obv crush... even pah)

VROOM

Baji sees your figure and speeds his motorcycle in your direction, hearing the roar of his ride get louder and scarier. "BAJI" You scream

"You know," you push up your fake glasses as you help Baji get the sleeping Mikey off the bike, "You should maybe SLOW DOWN when you're going to park instead of SPEEDING UP YOU DUMBASS" you scream the words intentionally in his face as he starts screaming back at you, "YOU'RE JUST SCARED YOU'RE LITTLE BOYFRIEND IS GONNA FALL OFF"

"OHMAGOSH SHUTUP BAJI" Despite the embarrassment (you knew Mikey couldn't hear anything when he was asleep) a smile embraced your face hearing Baji call Mikey your boyfriend.

The sound of happiness and youthful days

The two of you walk up to the rest of the group, where everyone was waiting,

"It's called being fashionably late, darlings" you say in a preppy voice as a response to the stares, but it only brings more confused looks (except from Mitsuya and maybe Draken). "You don't have to stare at me like that" you whisper in embarrassment, cheeks turning red.

You don't notice it, but he's staring at you. You're just too cute.

"So, what did you want to talk about" Draken asks, completely ignoring your awkward entrance.

You listen intently. His voice. You cherish every moment.

Mikey stands up groggily and clears his voice as he walks to the front, and sits on the wooden rail of the shrine. He looks at you and you walk closer to him, standing right by his side and leaning against the rail.

"It's about the black dragons" His voice is serious, and you understand the meaning of the meeting when you catch Kazutora flinch. Draken says how dangerous they are and Mikey drops the bomb on how Kazutora was attacked by the Black Dragons.

You look at Kazu with concern. When you first met him, he didn't seem to like Manjiro very much, and you guessed it was because of how self-centered Jiro was. You, however, were like an older sister to him, and since you had a twin brother (who was born 10 minutes older), you always wanted a younger sibling. Kazu was all that and more.

"So, you're planning on fighting the Black Dragons?" Draken asks Mikey the question which you knew the answer to. Your eyes don't leave Kazutora. Mikey cares about everyone he is close to, and you love that about him. You just wish Kazutora would understand that.

Baji, the most loyal, stands up declaring his idea, "Let's make a gang." The group didn't say a single word against it. Everyone was for the idea. "ANND I Already know the positions!"

"MIKEY! Who is a better fit to be our president than the most self-centered man in the universe? DRAKEN! Everyone's favorite big bro will handle the gang (and Mikey) as the Vice President! MITSUYA! Our peace maker will be the elite guard? PAH-CHIN! The powerful man will be our flag bearer. And me and Kazu will be SPECIAL ATTACK UNIT!"

You start to cheer but stop when you realize that everyone is staring at you. "And Y/N chan?" Mitsuya asks.

Before anyone can speak, Mikey answers, "As the president," he starts off, flaunting his new role, "I think dor- n/n chan should be the smart person, because she's smart and plan stuff. um, the-" Mikey fumbles on his words as you finish the sentence for him

"Like, the planner? To plan the moves and dates and analytics?" The gang looks at you with a big smile

"YEA" Pah-chin screams, "Without the smart one we'd be a bunch of dummies" he says with a grin

"This is why you always listen to the president," Mikey speaks again, "And I've already thought of the name" Mikey hops off the rail and walks toward the group, "TOKYO MANJIRO GANG" he shouts with enthusiasm.

His enthusiasm, however, was met with the whole group shouting "LAME" and your giggles

"Well then it's settled" Baji continues, "Except for the name," Mitsuya adds with the others nodding along

"Our gang," Baji continues, "Will be one that represents our friendship." Baji looks at you, "All for one-"

"and one for all" you finish with a smile

"LETS GO GET A CHARM" Pah Chin screams as you all run off.

You stop and stare at your friends, as Mikey runs over to you, taking your hand and pulling you along

"Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one"

November 1, 2005, morning

You hear a faint gasp and a door creak close as you open your eyes, adjusting to the room around you. The weight of your boyfriend, Manjiro Sano, pins you down to the bed, but that's ok. You never want to leave his embrace.

You cuddle closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and playing with his hair. He cuddled on top of you, his messy, golden hair adorning your neck, and your fingers instinctively move there to stroke his head.

"Nng" He groans and groggily open his eyes while you shush him with a kiss on the forehead. His arms wrap tighter around you but your moment is suddenly interrupted by a sky knock on the door.

"Y/N!" Emma calls out to you "Don't you have school today?"

Mikey doesn't let you answer as he annoyedly answers Emma with a sharp "NO", cueing her to leave and start her daily routine of bickering about Emma.

Mikey sits up as you follow his action, resting your head on his shoulder as you savor the moment with him. Mikey reaches for your phone as you get a call, and he answers it.

"HII ONII-CHANNN" Mikey mimics your girly voice when you talk to your brother and you try to snatch the phone while you hear your brother laughing on the other side, "Glad to know you're safe Tenshi" he says as Mikey ends the call.

You give up on Mikey's childish behavior and drop yourself on him. "Manji"

"Hm?"

"Kanji"

"MMM?"

"My sweet dorayaki" you end with a kiss on his neck

"Heh, what is it koibito?"

"Tell me"

"Everything Kanji."

"Ok N/N. Let's go meet Shin"

#manjiro sano #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers fluff #baji keisuke #draken #toman mikey #toman gang #tokrev #tokyo revengers toman #hanemiya kazutora #mikey kun

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whatyadrawin · 3 months

Text

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ -Chapter 7-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 3,543 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Sexual language, health concerns, foul language, mild mention of abuse, brief mention of infertility. I guess just all the usual slasher fucker warnings? Use your own discretion.

A/n: I went into the ZONE for this one, I spent all day on it, ALL DAY. In this chapter I round out some characters a bit more and I get Y/N to push some boundaries. I'm falling in love with this little world. Check the masterlist for some home layout references if you're interested in the layout of the property. As always, reblogs, likes and comments are extremely appreciated, and I hope you enjoy the chapter and art!

Tag-List: @fan-goddess

Chapter 7

A week went by slower than molasses as you stayed in Luda Mae’s room the entire time, only leaving to get a little bit of movement. You were generously allowed to stay at the Hewitt house until your home could be repaired, the entire time you stayed at the house you were weak with a persistent cough from the smoke, so you slept most of the time you were there so that you could recover; Today, you finally feel back to normal.

You had made a call to a company in the next town over who specialized in reconstruction from fire damage, they let you know that the work would take at minimum 4 months to complete and the cost was fairly high; You were fortunate enough to have a large sum of money from Tilly, who left you a dragon’s horde of wealth in her will, so money was not a stressor for once in your life.

Waking up to the sounds of a farm everyday was comforting, the wind blowing through the tall grass, crickets and birds singing songs, chickens and cows going about their business, it was extremely pleasing to hear these sounds every morning. The more you explored the property, the more beautiful you realize it was, despite being banned from viewing certain rooms and areas, there was still so much to see; you could tell that this family was once quite wealthy, they had a large mass of land and the home was enormous, there were fixtures which only the rich could have afforded, they were old and a bit damaged but the extravagance was still there.

You made your way to the kitchen for some coffee and see Luda Mae frying some eggs, she turns to see who entered and smiled when she saw you,

“Mornin’ sweetheart! It’s real nice to see you up and movin’ around this early. Want some eggs? I just been fryin’ some up for breakfast, there’s also coffee in the pot over by the stove.” She turned back to her frying pan and grabbed a plate to place the eggs onto.

You accept her offer and make your way to the coffee pot, you had been so drained of energy the past week that you always woke up so late and were unable to walk around much without coughing up a storm, today you felt strong. You place your coffee on the table and sit down, the kitchen was quite a decent size much like the other rooms in the house, American houses in the south had such massive rooms, they all felt so spacious.

The kitchen was full of mixed technology from varying eras, the stove and fridge were from the 50’s while the coffee maker and the smaller appliances were all from the late 90’s or early 2000’s. There was a theme to this kitchen which tickled your brain, strawberry themed. The kitchen window was situated in front of the tub style sink, it had white curtains with a red strawberry pattern which just added to the coziness. The walls were colored a salmon pink which beautifully accented the white laminate countertops, you saw that the molding was painted that same soft eggshell white from Luda Mae’s bedroom but the floor was still that dark walnut wood which ran throughout the house.

You turn to Luda Mae and say,

“I feel really bad for staying in your room, I really don’t mind sleeping on the couch or somewhere else so you can get your space back.”

She laughs and replies,

“Funny you mention that ‘cause I have a surprise for you. Been workin’ on it the whole time you been here.”

You were wondering what she got up to everyday, it seemed like she was nowhere to be found whenever you were awake. You even rarely saw Tommy while you stayed at the house, but Luda Mae assured you it was just him wanting to give you space to recover; apparently, he asked about you every day, and would keep watch for whenever you emerged from the room.

You quickly finished your breakfast in the anticipation to see what this surprise was,

“Ok Luda Mae, I want to see what you have in store for me and then I’ll come back and do those dishes.” You didn’t want to seem like a lazy freeloader, it was the least you could do. She responds,

“You ain’t wasting time doing no dishes while you have your first day of full strength. After I show you what I been workin’ on, you best go outside to get some fresh air.” She smiles at you playfully and takes your hand to guide you to where the surprise was.

You pass the main foyer and make your way through the dining room to reach the edge of the living room where there was a door. You were not allowed to go in the room past that door so you were curious to see what she was hiding, she stops you before you go any further and says,

“Ok Y/N, I know you been wonderin’ what’s behind this here door, and I don’t blame you. I want you to close your eyes and don’t peek ‘till I say so.”

You agree and cover both your eyes with your hands, she guides you through the door and walks you into the room,

“Ok now open ‘em!” she says excitedly.

You open your eyes to reveal a large bedroom, there’s a queen size bed still covered in its original plastic in the far corner of the room, and a writing desk by a large bay window overlooking the meadow. Large cabinets and wardrobes fill up space on the walls while another set of doors can be seen on the opposite end near the bed leading to the outside patio; The walls are a very old white color with one good size chandelier in the middle of the room dangling from the high ceiling, still with all its crystals in-tact. Your eyes widen and you are struck with awe, Luda Mae squeezes your hand gently and says,

“This was bein’ used as storage, it was meant to be my daughter’s room from a very long time ago but, I was never fortunate enough to have her.” She looks down at the floor,

“What happened?” You ask, not realizing that it may be a touchy subject,

“Oh, I’ll tell you that story someday. I want you to know that this room is yours to have, regardless of when your home is fixed, it’ll always be here for you.” She smiles at you endearingly and then continues, “And you can call me Mae from now on hun, no need to say its entirety, just don’t call me Luda.”

You nod and follow with, “How come you don’t like Luda, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She shakes her head,

“Me n’ Charlies Pa used to call me that, he was as mean as a starvin’ coyote, liked to hit and berate us both.”

You understood and dropped it, “I’m sorry you went through that, I’ll make sure to just call you Mae then.”

Luda Mae smiles and hugs you with one arm from the side, you match her and hug her with your arm and you both look at the room together side by side.

“I have no words for how grateful I am to have you in my life Mae, you have been like a mother to me and I feel like I could never repay you for your kindness.” You start to feel tears well up in your eyes, overwhelmed with the generosity of this woman.

“Theres’s nothin’ to owe dear, I did this of my own volition. I want you to enjoy it, all I ask is that you start feelin’ like family, because you are.” Her sincerity was enough to make tears stream from your eyes, which she wipes with her handkerchief.

You give her a hug and hold her tightly; you don’t know how to thank her but you promise yourself to make her as happy and loved as she has made you feel.

“You’re such a sweet girl Y/N, I want you to make this here room your home, do whatever you want with it, paint it, move the furniture, hell, whatever your heart desires!” She kisses your head and you release the hug saying,

“Will you help me decorate?” you ask.

Luda Mae looks at you with an excited smile, “I was hopin’ you’d ask!”

After the incredible surprise, Luda Mae left to go clean the kitchen and she sent you to go outside to get some sunshine, she handed you a straw hat and said,

“Go on now, explore a bit. Maybe go bug Thomas for a bit, he’d like that.”

You laugh and make your way outside; you start looking around the property and notice a whole lot of things. In one end of the property, behind the house near your new bedroom was the meadow for the cows to graze, next to the house across from the barn was a wheat field, in another end behind the small forest there was what looked like a vehicle graveyard which spooked you a little; there were cars with license plates from all over the U.S. and many different kinds of vehicles in varied states of decay. You decided not to explore that section due to potential hazards; you make your way through to an unexplored part of the property behind the forest which was between the meadow and car graveyard.

This area of the property had some trees around it which gave it privacy, in the middle of this tree perimeter was a large swathe of tall green grass, you found this odd since most of the land you saw was covered in dry, yellow grass. You tried to make your way through the bush, ensuring you don’t step on something dangerous, the further in you went the more wet the ground got -this must be where all the ground water is rising up- you felt a sense of excitement as you got closer to the center.

You finally reached a pond; it was fairly large and was surrounded by beautiful native plants. The water was crystal clear; you could see right to the bottom which was modestly deep, there were lily pads dispersed throughout the surface, and tadpoles played in the shallow zones. You felt an overwhelming desire to swim in it, the water was so pure looking that it was like a dream. So, you did.

You took off all your clothes, the surrounding forest shielded you and the Hewitts were all too busy with chores and farmwork to bother coming by, so you felt sure that you would be left alone. The water was a refreshing temperature and it felt amazing on your skin which was sweating from the heat of the day, as you made your way into the deeper parts of the pond you see small fish bolting out of your way, you decided to only go as deep as your shoulders.

You weren’t sure how long you were in the pond for, it was too incredible of a sensation to pass up spending time in. The birds sang for you and the water felt so comfortable, the shine of the sun passing overhead left a shimmer effect on the pond surface. You kept your hat on to protect you from the intense rays and you could not have been more relaxed, the small fish now were coming up to your toes and nipping at them which tickled you. Nothing could be better than this, it felt magical.

Back at the house, Luda Mae checked the clock on the wall and called out for you, when she didn’t hear a response, she went to ask Charlie if he had seen you.

“I hadn’t seen that sweet piece of ass nowhere Luda, I been busy as hell fuckin’ with this damn broken fence.” He was mending the fence by the road all day which had some damage from cows messing with it, he followed with,

“Go ask that kid of yours, I bet he knows where she went. He’s always tryin’ to get a peep on her. He needs to let off some of that pent up frustration, the boy’s brain is already like mud we don’t need him fantasizin’ all day.”

Luda Mae rolls her eyes and heads toward the barn where Tommy was feeding the chickens, she walks up to him and rubs his back asking,

“Son, have you seen Y/N today? She isn’t responding when I holler.”

He shakes his head and looks worried,

“Can you go check to see she hadn’t gone too far out? I worry she got herself lost. I have lunch ready for everyone too so both of you come on back to eat when she’s found.”

Tommy nods his head and immediately heads out from the barn to search for you, he began looking around in the wheat field which didn’t take long because of his incredible height he could see over all the wheat. He goes to check the meadow but doesn’t see you, the car graveyard was next which worried him. When he looked around all the vehicles and didn’t see you, he grew more concerned, the forest area had human traps still left in it from the bad days in the past, he was scared that you were stuck in one.

Tommy carefully made his way through the forest, cautious to avoid trap areas, he still didn’t see you and this made his heart race. He didn’t want to find you hurt and there was a very real risk of that, he paused and tried to listen. The sounds of humming could be heard in the distance, that’s when he remembered the pond and he bolted towards it as quickly as he could.

When he got to the pond area the humming was just you singing a song to yourself, he thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He decided to quietly make his way through the reeds so he wouldn’t scare you and stop your singing. For such a bulky man he was incredibly quiet, and with his hushed footing he got past the reeds and saw you in the water, naked.

Tommy immediately turned his head away; he was already intoxicated by your body from the night he saved you from the fire where you had so little clothes on already, and now your body was completely bare. Tommy tried his best to be gentlemanly but his aroused curiosity got the better of him and he just sat there gazing at you like a lion hiding in the tall grass watching their prey.

You looked like a mermaid, your singing was like a siren calling to him, putting him under a spell, he didn’t want this moment to end. He couldn’t see anything much below your shoulders thanks to the sun illuminating a glittering glow around you, he wanted to black out the sun for hiding your beauty from him.

Tommy couldn’t resist moving in for a closer look, he had never seen such beauty in his life, all he wanted was to be with you in this pond sharing in the relaxation and freedom. He wasn’t careful where he stepped and his weight was too much for the soft mud shelf to bear, so he fell in the pond making a lot of noise. You let out a scream and turn around to see a large splash, you try to think if there’s alligators in Texas, and panic sets in.

Tommy got his footing and stood up in the pond, the water in that area was deep for you, but on him it only reached under his pecs. You felt relief at the sight of him, his hair was slick and stuck to his face, he looked like a dog with long fur who was getting a bath, it was cute. Tommy gasped for air and moved his hair from his face pushing it back away from his eyes. You were so taken by him revealing his face again that you didn’t move, his dark green t-shirt clung to his chest and revealed erect nipples underneath. You couldn’t help but giggle a little bit after he turned his head to you looking embarrassed.

You had the biggest crush on this behemoth of a human, every day last week was like agony not being able to see him, he was all you could think about which helped keep your mind off the memory of the fire. He didn’t move from where he stood, he also couldn’t stop staring at you, a devilish smirk appeared on your mouth. You move your wet long hair over your chest for modesty and call out to him,

“I didn’t know you guys had a paradise hiding on your property.” He rubs the back of his head and looks around nodding, you follow,

“Why don’t you come out of the pond this way, it’s a gradual incline here so it will be easier to get out for you.”

He shakes his head and tries to turn back to get out the way he came, so you push,

“Thomas, I can move out of the way if you are too scared to look at my body. Don’t put yourself at risk of drowning, just come out this way.” You felt so bold, the magic of the pond gave you a strange confidence, and Tommy being so shy was endearing and only bolstered your sudden jolt of extroversion.

Tommy hung his head and covered his eyes as he made his way past you, he slipped on the slick mud underneath and fell backwards into the water right next to you, splashing you as he went down. You giggled as his head slowly came up from the water, a very annoyed and embarrassed expression on his eyes. He was able to sit with his butt on the pond floor and his head was able to remain above water, he didn’t move from being too scared of further making a fool of himself.

Seeing him so close to your bare body made you incredibly aroused, you couldn’t help but swim up to him and get between his legs so you could hold onto his chest. You smiled at him and said,

“Don’t be embarrassed, I don’t think this pond is very friendly to such… impressively large men. Why don’t you stay a while and just relax in the cool water with me?”

Tommy’s eyes were so wide you thought they would fall out of his head, you saw his cheeks flush and he was breathing heavily, you were close enough to hear his heartbeat which was racing. He had never been this close to a woman before, well, a woman who was alive and willing to be near him, let alone a naked one. You stare into his eyes, they were so full of emotion and deeply blue like the Pacific Ocean on a summer day reflecting the light of the sun on the water, you were mesmerized, you said,

“You have the most beautiful eyes, Thomas; I could get lost in them.” You reach out to move some stray hairs away from his face.

Tommy was overwhelmed with carnal desire; it was taking a lot of restraint to not touch you and he was worried that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He had never felt this way before, he thought his heart was going to explode from pumping so fast, he could feel his veins throbbing and a very specific organ was painfully pressed against his jeans. When you touched his face, he couldn’t take it and instead of just grabbing you and taking you, he got up and ran out of the pond towards the house at lightning speed. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you, or overstep a boundary you didn’t want him to cross, his head was so full of new swirling emotions, he was drunk on the desire you put in him and it was too alien of a sensation for him to handle.

You watched as Tommy got up and ran away from you, it made you laugh seeing him flustered like that. You knew you were tempting a beast but there was a deep lust and longing inside you that wanted him to let loose and ravish you. You were so erotically excited that your groin was aching for touch, it didn’t help that you noticed a massive snakelike shape pressing through his jeans as he got up to escape your spell, the prospect of his size was enough to make you bite your lip thinking about what it looked like freed from the bonds of his pants.

You got out of the pond and put your clothes back on, you made your way back to the house feeling proud of yourself -at least now he must know where I stand- you were looking forward to more overtly flirtatious encounters in the days ahead.

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