#and its in the fucking royal treasury

[arl-the-beloved]

KAITO GETTING ISEKAI'D

Yes i got this from tiktok

#dcmk #kaito kuroba #kaito kid #kaitou kid #ok so like #maybe smth happens when looking for Pandora #and he ends up accidently breaking a gem while trying to escape that is told to have “magic capabilities” #theres this fucking flash bang and the next thing he knows hes in a world where magic is like the main thing #i was gonna say “magic exists” but it already does #so like he ends up just doing a few tricks to show off and hopefully not be fucking homeless and starving #he ends up doing a few tricks and letting people drop some coins into his top hat #that ha snothing to do with plot i just think its funny #and yes #his doves were teleported with him #and since the very existence of “fake magic” isnt a thing in the otehr realm theyre just flabbergasted #people dont even try to figure it out and smth smth Kaito finds out he has to break the same gem he broke before #like to return #and its in the fucking royal treasury #so he either has to find a way to charm the nobles enough to get the attention of the royal family #or #break into somewhere in a realm where magic exists #I DIDNT WORD IT WELL BUT YK WHAT I MEAN

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi💕

I was thinking about a thrope that i always find very cute

Men: why would i want a loyal and quiet woman when i can have blind hatred?

Woman: you think you can get a woman to stick with you ?

Men: * heart eyes* see, that is exactly what i need

Daemon with a reader who is not royal and they met when she kicked his ass while stealing money

Attenzione Pickpocket!

Daemon Targaryen x Robin Hood!Reader

Summary: The commander of the gold cloaks was instructed to track down a thief that was stealing from the nobles. Daemon cared little for the task, up until he, himself, in a word, was stolen from.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, prostitute!reader, ye old misogyny, manhandling, mention of injury, typos, etc.

A/N: ok i wasnt actually sure if this was a req but i kept it because i really liked the prompt. robin hood was the first thing that i thought of and ok its not too much of that but whatever. nonnie your prompt really got mangled but i hope you still like it (: ive been wanting to write for daemon for a while so im tryna manifest a writing streak with this fic. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui

There is a frantic pounding on my door.

I whine as I struggle to tie the bandages around my torso. I spit out the cloth I stuffed in my mouth to muffle my whimpers, "GIVE ME A MOMENT, GRETA!"

Her panicked and muffled voice sounds from behind my locked door. She jiggles the knob, "but the prince-"

There is a squeak followed by a louder round of knocks. I scramble when I hear the shrill voice a man outside.

"Give me a second," I mutter under my breath as I scramble to put on my shift.

"If you don't fucking open the door, I'm going to-"

His words are cut off by the sound of me undoing my lock and ripping the door open. Daemon Targaryen, clad in his armor and gold cloak, as well as my poor darling Greta, our poor barmaid, barely ten and six, look at me as I huff.

I nod at Greta, dismissing her. She gratefully and wordlessly flees the scene. I turn back to man, "a bit early for your dr-"

Daemon pushes past me, undoing his cloak as he blurts, "you want your coin or not, whore?"

I huff again, straining as I whip back to him, forgetting momentarily that I was rather gravely injured. I hold back a whine as I walk up to him.

Daemon drops his cloak and marches over it. He sits then slumps on my bed. He looks at me and parts his legs. I hold back my chuckle and I sit on his lap, dutifully undoing his armor.

He stops me and takes my hand, barely shaking his head in disagreement. We lock eyes for a moment and pull my hand away when he releases it. I decide then to brush his hair back.

Daemon immediately sighs. I kiss his jaw. His hand comes to my thigh and slowly pushes my skirt up. I mutter against him, "why so tense, commander?"

He rubs the bridge of nose, "there's a thief in King's Landing."

"Mmm," I pull back to raise a brow at him, "and there's a prince in a brothel," I rub his cheek with my thumb, "I can't say I'm surprised."

Daemon clenches his jaw as he wraps an arm around me, "this is different."

"Hmm, let me guess," I brush his lips with my thumb, "did this one steal from our dragonling?"

He does not retort as I play with his lips. I coo, "come now, prince. Surely a pouch of silver is not something you of all people would mourn."

"It was ten pouches. I was moving coin from the treasury."

I chuckle and mutter, "oh, I knew that. Didn't a few golden busts get taken as well?"

Daemon looks at me.

"Didn't you nick the thief in the rib?" I tilt my head.

"I stabbed him," he corrects, "but the fuck was too fast."

"You've just gotten slow," I chuckle, "you were out of breath when you chased me around last week. Remember our playdate, hunter?"

He rolls his eyes.

"I enjoy being your doe, dragonling. I like it when you're in the mood for a chase and a fuck."

Daemon tilts his head and dryly retorts, "I wouldn't have ever guessed."

I chuckle, "Oh, don't be like this. Did it hurt when you fell off your horse? Everyone in the city heard your thu-"

Daemon growls, yanking my hair back, "I did not."

I hold back a laugh.

"Your flies whisper exaggerated accounts."

"Do they now?" I smirk.

He releases my hair and narrows his eyes, "what do you know about that thief anyway?"

I purse my lips and shrug, "what are you here for? A fuck? Or information?"

Daemon does not reply. He does not move either.

"I'm afraid," I tilt my head back, "I can only give you one or the other, dragonling."

He scoffs, "greedy slut."

I raise my brows, "business is business."

Daemon draws out a deep breath. I watch as he puts his hand in his pocket and shows me coins on his palm. He places the coins on my bedside table and mutters, "the thief."

I smile and nod, "the thief it is then."

"Tell me what you know," he says, hand lazily resting on my thigh.

"Hmm," I push his hand off.

He grumbles.

"I was the one that robbed you, prince." I continue, "I was there last night. I watched you get knocked off your horse. I think I saw you even shed a tea-"

A gasp leaves me. His hand comes to my throat. He mutters under his breath, "shut it."

I let out a strained chuckle, "m-make me."

He huffs through his nose and tightens his grip on my jaw. I dig my fingers into his armor and press my thighs together to contain my excitement. My heart quickens. He stares at me for what felt like ages but then releases me.

I catch my breath.

"You liked it last time when you chased me around the streets," I whisper, leaning into his ear. "Would you like to do that again? Shall I wear men's clothing too? A mask? A hood."

"I'm not in the mood for one of your games," Daemon retorts.

I shake my head and pout, "but I am, your grace."

He grunts, "I've been awake since yesterday and you expect me to hound a whore for sport?"

"If you want to get your money's worth," I say as I move off him, "and if you're not boring.

Daemon watches me as I stand and step back. He seems ridiculously irritated.

"Would you like to know a secret prince?" I look at him and tug my shift up slowly.

Daemon's eyes dart to my legs.

"You're not going to get that money back."

He looks up at me and raises a brow, "what?"

"I divided the money across neighborhood."

He tilts his head.

"If you want to catch your thief," I pull my clothes up and show him the cut on my side, "you have to play my game."

Daemon stares for a moment. I drop my shift and smile, really allowing the moment to hook into his mind. I grab my folded clothes, slowly putting them on.

He watches me still as I whimper because of my injury. I raise my brows, "Dark Sister stings awfully. The least you could do is fuck the pain out of my system, no?"

I grab his cloak and toss it to him.

He catches it through his stunned state. For a moment, he looks at me as though he was debating the sincerity of my words.

"I take this as you giving me a head start," I nod and pull my skirt up as I exit the room.

#daemon fanfic #daemon fic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon angst #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon smut

[bittersweetarts]

Little Lamb - Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chapter 15)

Aemond Targaryen x You –  Chapter 1

Word count: 3673 words

Summary: As a maiden of a noble house, it is your duty to wed well. But how will you manage to, with a curious and possessive Prince in the picture?

WARNINGS: This is the last chapter of this story. 

Note: To set the tone, I recommend putting Yes to Heaven by Lana Del Rey on loop.

Chapter 15: Absolution 

It was only after the birth of your first child, a lively fair-haired girl named Aerys, that you gathered the courage to ask something from Aemond, something that had been weighing heavy on your mind since the two of you met.

“Aemond, my love.”

Your voice echoes in your shared quarters. You set down a letter sent from your sister, Lauryn, which you just finished reading, and pick up the small figure that you had left by the window. Smiling, you cross over to him, seating yourself on the arm of his chair. Aerys was soundly asleep in her cradle, with her dragon egg, graciously gifted on her birth day by Helaena, as she had promised to you on your wedding day.

As you speak, Aemond looks up from his parchment, tilting his head to face you, returning your smile. Normally you do not disturb him when he is busy with his duties, but you had decided that you could not wait until he was done, and that you must ask him now. You have tried to countless times before, but always cower, failing to ask the questions that have plagued your mind for so many moons now.

In your hands, you played with a small wooden carving of a dragon, one which Aemond had gifted to you in what felt like a lifetime ago.

Before the two of you were betrothed, you had misplaced it, but you recently found it in one of your old pouches and were happy to have recovered it again. Taking hold of one of his hands, you place the wooden figure into his palm, and he chuckles in amusement, before pulling you onto his lap. You are dressed in a thin nightgown and flush at the feeling of his covered groin against you.

“Aegon used to mock me for caring about you, did you know?”

Your brows furrow at his assertion, and you tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. Pulling you in closer, Aemond pressed his lips against your jaw, tender and warm, before continuing.

“… He could not understand why, and when he had realised the extent of my obsession, he told me to either just fuck you or to fuck a whore that looks like you. I could not even fathom doing that, so instead, I spent my free time scouring for things that you might like. I was desperate to have you simply acknowledge me, and I would have emptied the royal treasury to do so.”

Aemond professed in a low tone, and you flushed at his admission. You agreed with Aegon, in that you still could not understand why Aemond had initially been attracted to you, for you considered yourself plain and uninteresting.

“You did not have to.” You softly respond, intertwining your fingers into the palm that held the wood figure, his touch rough and callous. Aemond shook his head, but did not get the opportunity to say anything, as you continued.

“This is my favourite gift from you.”

Bringing your face closer to his, you watch him closely as he examines the figure, tracing its carvings, as well as your fingers.

“You do not like the jewels or dresses that I gift you?” Aemond says, frowning as he put aside the wooden dragon on the desk, opting to play with the ruby necklace hanging on your chest instead, another gift from what felt like a life time ago. You laugh in response, feeling like he misunderstood you.

“Of course not. I love it the most because it makes me think of you. I used to stare at it for hours, memorising every curve and cut. It could not replace you, but it brought me some comfort in your absence.” You admit, helplessly honest, and this softens the one-eye Prince’s expression.

When you finish, Aemond gently takes hold of your hips, holding you firmly in place, while bridging the gap between the two of you. As he does, Aemond presses his warm lips onto yours, and you smile against the kiss, before pulling away and letting out a deep breath.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask nervously, staring down at his chest. You did not know how else to approach the subject and were trying to muster all of your courage.

“Anything.” Aemond says, tenderly grasping your chin, tilting your head up to face him. You are silent for a moment as you stare at him, but force yourself to speak. Gently bringing a hand to his face, you trace the scars around his sapphire, and he shivers under your cool touch. You take another deep breath before speaking.

“Tell me about Lucerys Velaryon.”

As your voice echoes throughout the room, Aemond freezes completely, his stare vacant and empty. You feel your heart ache at the sight of this, but you remain unrelenting. Taking hold of his face with both of your hands, you look at Aemond as you repeat yourself.

“Tell me about Lucerys Velaryon. Please.”

Aemond snaps out of his trance as you ask again, and shakes his head repeatedly, remaining speechless. You wonder whether you are pushing him to far, because after all, this was something the two of you had never spoken about before, not directly at least. But you need to know, and now that you had started asking about it, you could not get yourself to stop.

You needed to know. You needed to know why Aemond had slayed his nephew, a boy who was only four and ten, a boy who was blood of his own. You needed to know Aemond’s side of the story. You loved him and accepted him as he is, but you could not go on another day, not knowing how and why it had happened.

“Anything. You said anything, Aemond.”

The one-eyed Prince’s gaze sharpened at your assertion, feeling hurt by how his words were being thrown back at him by someone he cared for so deeply. Pulling away from you, and lifting you off him, Aemond pushed his chair back and hoisted himself out of his seat, turning his back to you. Your heart races as you watch him, waiting for him to say something. It is deathly silent until he finally does.

“That is not a question.” He says simply.

You think on his response, and decide to continue, despite being afraid. You walk up to him and take hold of his hands, but keep your gaze to the ground. Your voice is meek when you ask again, your throat dry.

“How did Lucerys Velaryon die?”

“I killed him.” Aemond states the obvious, and he wipes away a tear that escapes onto your cheek unknowingly. Kinslaying was after all once of the most egregious sins imaginable, and you cannot help but feel worried for him, because no sin goes unpunished in life, or at least that is what you believe.

“Tell me how.” You continue relentlessly. You initially expect Aemond to get angry with you, or to throw a fit. He does not, and instead remains calm, almost emotionless, as though this was something he had buried so deep within himself that he could not dig out anymore.

“You do not want to know.” He says lowly, still devoid of emotion.

“Tell me as it was. Tell me what had happened, truthfully. It will not change the way I feel. Nothing can.”

“That is not true.” He says, his voice now cracking. For a moment, you want to give up, to forget about it all and pretend that you never started this conversation. You did not want to hurt him, to see any pain in his expression. But you hold your ground and continue.

“It is true. I love you, you know that I do. You are my family, your family is my family, and you are Aerys’s father. I accept you as you are, but I need to know. I cannot go on another day not knowing what happened.”

Sighing in defeat, Aemond wrapped his arms around you and embraced you. You wait for him to begin speak, and it takes some time. Aemond first begins trailing wet kisses across your face, before pulling you closer to the bed, and kissing you softly, before finally speaking.

“I was nine and ten, eager to prove my worth. My brother had become King and I was not even the spare in the war. I had the largest dragon in the world, intellect and skill, and the confidence of all those around me, but that was not enough. I was not enough.” Aemond’s voice cracked, but remained silent, watching him as he continued.

“You know this part already. I was sent to Storm’s End to secure Lord Baratheon’s fealty, and I did as I was told.”

By promising to wed one of his daughters. You knew that well, and you still felt guilty about how everything proceeded after. You had lost most of your family by wedding Prince Aemond, as your House was sworn to serve House Baratheon, and your union was still not accepted by your brother, Tommen, who was Head now that your father had passed. You remained quiet as Aemond continued.

“My nephew, Lucerys, was also sent to Storm’s End, at his mother’s bidding. I did not like my half-sister nor her son, not since the bastard had stolen my eye. An eye for Vaghar was a fair exchange, and I think that I would have let it go, but the night that it happened, no one cared or tried to protect me. No one but my mother.”

As Aemond spoke, his speech began to become disjointed, it was difficult for you to keep up with his story.

“… It all happened so quickly. One moment I was trying to get my nephew to take out his eye – I wanted to gift it to my mother, and for Rhaenyra to understand that she was not heir the Iron Throne.”

As Aemond’s breathing became more rapid, you understood that he was now becoming more frenzied. You tried to calm him down, by wrapping your arms around him, but failed to, as his voice grew louder and his eye began to water. The two of you were stood near your bed, and he proceeded to seat himself on the edge, lowering his head while doing so.

“I was on Vaghar, chasing him, trying to scare him, and I felt like a God. I felt powerful, like I was something, and it was everything to me, because I was so used to feeling like nothing. But very quickly, this feeling was gone. I had killed him, my nephew. Vaghar had gnashed into the boy and his dragon. I did not mean to, and I did not even realise what was happening until it had happened, and I tried to get Vaghar to stop before, but I failed to. I was stupid, and I wrongly believed that we Targaryens controlled dragons. It is untrue.”

Aemond had closed his eye and was crying now. This was the first time you had ever seen him doing so. He tried to conceal his emotion by shielding his face with his hands, which dug roughly against his scalp.

As he did, you got on your knees, and began kissing his damp cheek, wiping away the tears that escaped. You knew that you were hurting him by asking him about this, but you had to know. You had anticipated cruelty from Aemond, to hear that he had murdered his kin in cold blood, but instead, you were met with admission. Instead, you were the cruel one, forcing your husband to relive a difficult memory. You knew that you were being selfish and resolved to apologise for this after.

“And you have never told anyone.” You stated simply. If he had told someone, he would not be perceived as the wayward Prince, known for his cruelty. Aemond shook his head in response.

“No, I could not. If I told anyone that it was an accident, I would still be a kinslayer, but a foolish one at the eyes of everyone. If I admitted my weakness, I would have forfeited not only my life, but that of my family. I could not.” Aemond finished, opening his eye to look at you, his voice quiet and child-like.

In a way, you felt like you always knew, or at least had a suspicion. All believed the one-eyed Prince to be cruel, that he was menacing and heartless, and he had done more so to encourage it, and you believed it at first. But you realised that he was the very opposite. Aemond Targaryen, underneath it all, was particularly sensitive to the feelings of others, more so than many, perceiving of everything around him. Even now, as Aerys began to turn in her cradle and wake, letting out a quiet cry, he wordlessly pulled himself away from you, and lifted your girl, rocking her back to sleep.

You sat in bed as you watched the man you love calm your babe back to sleep. You noticed how he avoided looking at you as he did so, turning his back to you, which only made you feel worse for forcing him to tell you about something so painful.

As Aerys fell back asleep, and Aemond placed her back into her cradle, you silently approached him, and wrapped your arms around him. Reluctantly, Aemond did the same, wrapping his hard arms around you, holding you tightly, as though he intended to never let you go.

Perhaps because the loss incurred during the war was devastating for most, all was relatively peaceful in the Realm, or at least in your little corner in the Realm. Whenever King Aegon sent Aemond off to handle matters with Vaghar, he would be gone for no longer than a few days. In the time he would be gone, you would be so preoccupied with taking care of your children, that his brief absences were not difficult to bear, and he would never fail to make up for lost time when he returned.

You found yourself with child, or rather children, once more following the birth of Aerys. With an easy birth, you had given life to two small boys, Daegor and Aerion Targaryen, who took after their father completely in appearance, except for their eyes, which they got from you.

Older than her brothers, Aerys would ecstatically play with them every day, and proclaimed them to be the best brothers in the world. Though nights were often sleepless with the boys, Aemond would always stay awake, helping you with Daegor and Aerion. The difficulty was that when one babe finally calmed down, the other would begin throwing a fit, causing the other to cry as well, and it became an endless cycle. Unlike you though, Aemond never lost his patience with the boys, and that inspired you to do better as well.

For their first name day, King Aegon declared that there should be a celebration for Daegor and Aerion, and so, you all found yourself in Kingswood on one fine Spring day. Oddly, Aegon had grown to become fond of Aerys, who was spirited and very opinionated, unafraid of being bold in front of her uncle despite his post. So, when one evening, during supper, she had asked the King that they all go hunting, in celebration of Aerion and Daegor’s first name day, the King affirmed that they all would.

Hunting did not interest you, so you found yourself in a grand tent with the Queens and Princess Jaehaera, drinking tea while chatting with them about both everything and nothing. Was the Triarchy alliance between the Free Cities, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh, doomed to fail? Would Aerys’s dragon egg ever hatch, or would she have to claim a dragon just as her father had? Who from the hunting party would return with the best catch? Queen Alicent would jest that it would Aerys, despite her lack of training, meanwhile Helaena wistfully hoped that they come empty-handed. Princess Jaehaera on the other hand, reluctantly opined that it would probably be one of her uncles, given that they were most skilled.

You were very fond of the Princess Jaehaera, and hoped that Aerys would come to be as wonderful as her as she aged. Jaehaera had grown to become an introspective young woman. Unlike her twin, she often concealed her emotions, but made for excellent company, as she always had an interesting and wise perspective on matters. However, her nature was rather solitary, and she remained mostly detached from the ladies Queen Alicent had called to court for her. This was why it brought you lots of joy whenever Prince Daeron and your brother visited, for they were the only people who brought out her spirit, and with them, you could find the Princess laughing and dancing.

Steffon, now stationed as a knight at Old Town, was visiting King’s Landing, with Prince Daeron, the pair now very close friends. Your brother’s visits have become increasingly frequent over the years, and this brought you a lot of joy, as you loved your brother dearly, and he always brought along news about your family. Most recently, the last of your younger sisters, Taliya, had been betrothed to Lord Tully’s eldest son, and Steffon had reassured you that you would definitely be invited to their wedding, as House Tully would never disrespect House Targaryen. His reassurance brought a lot of relief, and you hoped for a raven to carry an invitation to arrive.

Steffon and Prince Daeron, along with the King, Aemond and some white cloaks went hunting with the children (except for your small boys, who slept soundly with you). The Queens, Princess Jaehaera and you were still in the company of some knights, which included Ser Landor, who you trusted with your life.

It was only near sunset that the hunting party returned, and as they approached your tent, from a distance, you saw Aemond and Prince Jaehaerys, a boy grown now, carrying a stag.

“Mother! Mother!” You heard your girl and see a head of pale hair sprinting towards you, dressed in dark hunting attire. Trailing behind her was Prince Maelor, who watched the girl devoutly. Wherever the lively Aerys was found, the stoic Maelor would be quietly trailing behind, ready to defend her against anyone willing do her harm.

You sometimes would jest to Aemond that they might follow Targaryen tradition, but Aemond would swiftly dismiss this, stating that Aerys was still a child, and the two of you had many years before you would even need to speak about betrothing her to anyone at all. You enjoyed riling him up like this and found that it was easy to do when discussing your girl’s future.

“Go ahead, I will be here with Aerion and Daegor.” Alicent asserted, placing her hand onto your forearm. Smiling, you thank her and briskly walk towards the hunting party, meeting your girl midway.

“Mother – You should have seen how many hares uncle Steffon caught!” Aerys ranted excitedly as you embraced her. You did not worry about her being out in the forest, not when she had so many loved ones looking out for her.

“I killed two more than he did! This is just blatant favoritism now, and I deeply resent it, my niece.” Daeron huffed, walking up towards the two of you, as you let Aerys go.

“Oh shut it. You are just jealous that you are not her favourite uncle.” Steffon boasted cheerfully, throwing an arm around Daeron before greeting you. “Sister.”

“Brother.” You nod back, smiling. Daeron was now sulking, his eyes narrow, glaring at Steffon.

“If anyone is my favourite, it is uncle Aegon. He gives me gifts much more than you do.” Aerys retorted back, her arms cross and her smile devious. You shake your head at her callousness, not understanding how you had managed to raise a daughter so haughty.

“Tell me, brother. What is it like to lose?” Aegon speaks loudly, walking slower that the rest. Immediately, Daeron pulls out of Steffon’s grip, and you are about to intercede and tell off Aerys for causing unnecessary conflict, until you feel strong arms wrap around you and lips press against your ear.

“Missed me?” Aemond lowly whispered into your ear needily. You craved his touch whenever he was away, even if for a few hours, but now, you try to escape his grasp, as he was warm and sweaty.

“You reek!” You exclaim, trying to pull out of his embrace, but he only traps you further, laughing as you try to squirm away.

From a distance, you hear more laughs, and you realise that everyone else has walked ahead towards the tent, probably starving for food and wine. You could see your brother, Steffon shakes his head as he walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. Yielding to Aemond, you sigh and twist yourself to face Aemond, who is staring at you affectionately.

The sun was bleeding now, its blushing light spreading everywhere, and it glowed against the stray hairs that hung around Aemond’s face. You reached up to push them away, before gently placing the palm of your hand against his jaw. His skin was still damp with sweat, but you did not mind all that much anymore. The last breath of Spring flowed before you finally broke the silence between the two of you, beaming at him.

“Dance with me.”

Aemond endearingly smiles back at you as he responds. “There is no music.”

“It does not matter. Dance with me.”

You persist, bringing your hands to his, once again attempting to pull out of his grasp. But Aemond does not let you go, and instead brings his hands to your waist, still holding you closely, whilst beginning to sway. You follow his lead, and move along with him, setting your head down on his chest. And the two of you stay like this, swaying together, for a very long time.

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoyed the last chapter! Music by Hozier, Lana Del Rey and Tamino inspired this entire plot, and I wanted the story to end with the same blissful feeling that their music invokes. It is nowhere near cannon, but I choose to live in my delusions and pretend that things ended a little more happily for some of my favourite war criminals. Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate all the kind comments and support I have received along the way. 

If you liked Little Lamb, you might like my new story, which you can find on my profile. It is going be much longer, and I am posting new chapters every Wednesday, to help tide us over until the next season of House of the Dragon comes out. Happy Holidays, and Merry Christmas to those that celebrate!

Tags: girl-obsessed-with-things 404slayer404 moonmaiden1996 rosaryos  roseanimelover jovialfanatic wishfulwithwine missusnora maat-the-prescriptive  @let-love-bleeds-red shnadaidas klutzyfreak mistalli pearlstiare nctma15 weepingfashionwritingplaid ihaveadogithink verycollectivecreator @thelibraperspective eddies-bat-tattoos marcs-luver kpopdistoyedmylife-blog solacestyles lonadane magnificantmermaid @filmelunar hiatuswhore slutforaemond slutforaemond

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #Aemond the Kinslayer #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #fanfiction #comfort #hurt #house of the dragon #hotd #game of thrones

[gravidwithlore]

Ughhh your usurper x Prince was so amazing omg omg Also!!! I was thinking a little bit abt it (a lot) and what if either

A. At first, the Prince was given the jewelry in the size the usurper anticipated him to be so it was very large on him at first and he grew into it

Or

B. The Prince was given the jewelry in his actual size at first, and the usurper added more links as it eventually cut into his growing belly and hips

(Original post)

Both are genuinely very hot, especially the second one (now I am thinking about the Usurper smithing the chains himself, softly but proudly chastising the Prince for getting so big as he gently, almost reverently adds yet another link to the chains, adding pretty charms and jewels in between so it looks like decked out charm braclet), but I have thought about this and the answer is C:

The jewels were grabbed/stolen out of the Royal Treasury about 20 minutes before the now overthrown king arrived. In the story in my head, the old King was greedy and hoarded his wealth and jewels, and just kept them gathering dust in the vault too greedy to even put them on display for others to see. The Usurper (who i should probably name lol), as a power play, broke into the vault filled with the kings precious hoard, and draped and pinned just random-ass, more expensive than anything he'd held in his life, jewelry all over the Prince (who i guess i should also name too huh) to accent just how gravid and pregnant he was AND to evoke the feeling of turning the precious Prince into a "kept woman" rather than the rightful ruler he would/should have been. The enchanting and obvious impregnation of the kings son and only heir, made all that more devastating by carelessly displaying all the preciously hoarded jewels generations of his ancestors collected and kept in the vault over the Prince's bare gravid body. The piece on the cake: the only thing preventing him from seeing the brainwashed Prince shamelessly grinding his wet ass pussy all over the betrayer's lap is the Usurper himself's battle torn standard (flag), straining where its tied around his widened hips, leaving no question about who's babies have made him so very big.

Idk just the dramatic politics and power play of it all, of specifically displaying the Prince this way, making it one of the last thing the old King sees before his execution, not just the sight but the sound of it adding to his defeat and humiliation? Hot. The thought of being the enchanted brain-washed Prince, mind so fogged over the only thoughts I can keep straight are about how happy I am to be filled with my husband's brood, and how desperately I want him to fuck me while I'm sitting on his lap, unaware of the jewels on my body or the flag haphardly tied around waist, not even noticing my own kingly father in chains before me, not even hearing the words my husband says, but the timber of his voice making me wet, shamelessly horny and grinding over the tent in his pants, being practically sent into a heat when he squeezes my tit, crying in relief when he finally enters me, still not aware of anything else beyond the babies in my belly and my beloved pleasuring me over and over? Super hot.

#i *ahem* got a little carried away but yeah #also i realized when i was almost done i might have steamrolled over your question a bit but i have already typed all this out #so sorry if i steamrolled that was not my intention #i was just excited to share the about why the jewelry lore that didnt really get much space to expand on in the story itself #asks #usurperxprince #my ramblings

[hms-tardimpala]

marriage of convenience bagginshield for the WIP game! the title has me 👀

EEEEEEE!! I'm so happy you asked about this one because (even though I love all my WIPs) this is my current baby. Apologies if this gets long.

Now, I love stories about royal marriages: they can be loveless, hateful, friendly, a business relationship, a mutual beard to hide behind, any number of things. And the potential for sexual frustration is high, and I like that.

I was having fun worldbuilding's Erebor's economical renaissance, and wondered "where would Bilbo and Thorin stand in this universe?" (although I like the story of The Hobbit as it is, in fic, I want Thorin to live and deal with the fallout of his actions) and the most interesting answer was that their relationship is fucked.

In my fic, they fell in love on the road, but while Thorin was goldsick, he married Bilbo in a fit of possessiveness, and was abusive. (to be clear, not sexual assault, but he was really pushy and possessive and ultimately, as we see in the movie, violent.) They stay married because Bilbo knows he wouldn't fit in and would be lonely if he went back to the Shire, and Thorin would have to find another consort and have an heir, and he refuses to pass on his susceptibility to goldsickness. It's better for the kingdom's stability. Also, the person they fell in love with is still there, right? (no they're not, these are all the wrong reasons, can you tell this is a terrible idea?)

I want to show how they become a very efficient ruling team as the years go on but on the personal side their relationship dies. I'm going to create a marriage that is so depressing. In public they look fine, but in private they don't touch, don't discuss their feelings, have separate rooms, etc. I want them to have created these coping mecanisms, walls of fear and guilt at the very beginning, but being unable to take them down when they want to later (which they will, yay).

It's about healing, abuse, duty, addiction (if I can fit it in, otherwise this one'll be a fic of its own), friendship, desire, and how these things mix together when they shouldn't and the result is ugly and not therapy-approved. And I want it to have a happy ending because I believe in healing and forgiveness.

Snippet time! Sorry it's long, I'm a wordy bastard. Careful, the vibes are rancid:

The wizard’s expression darkened, but he started moving again nonchalantly. “We had a similar nightly discussion some time ago. I warned you about Thorin and the effect dragon sickness would have on him. You told me you were not afraid of him, despite everything. Have you revised your opinion?” Bilbo kept walking, but it felt like a heavy stone had dropped inside his stomach. A shiver crept up his neck as the painful sensation of strong hands on his thighs and sides came back to him. He remembered the throat-tightening fear as he listened to Thorin rant and rave, go from gentle to threatening in an instant, Bilbo in his wake never knowing if this time he would escape the king’s fury or be discovered for the traitor he was and choked by a hand heavy with gold rings. He saw again the leering, the unbridled desire, the possessiveness. Thorin covering him in riches and bedding him on top of his cursed gold like he was one of his things to use as he pleased. [...] What happened didn’t matter because Bilbo couldn’t afford to grant it importance. The fact was that when he married Thorin Oakenshield, he married a dragon. A dragon that had since then disappeared, but who could tell that it wasn’t lying in wait, observing Bilbo hungrily from behind beloved blue eyes? “I haven’t,” he told Gandalf. “I don’t fear Thorin, I fear what he could become if he’s not watched.” “It is not your responsibility to watch over him, Bilbo,” the wizard said gently. It is. And not because Bilbo had taken hollow-sounding vows during a travesty of a ceremony hastily held in the treasury. He hadn’t needed a title or a formal bonding to jump between Azog and Thorin, to deliver him from giant spiders or the cells of Mirkwood, or to endorse his plea to the Master of Laketown.

This is gonna be unhealthy before it gets better.

Anyway, I hope you don't mind how long this got. Thank you so much for asking, it made me so happy to tell you about it 💙

#ask game #answered #somfte

[wardenred]

Whumptember 16: "Can I go home now?"

Let's take another brand-new OC and lock him up in a Bad Place, why don't we.

He woke up to a steel-lined boot tip prodding his ribs and, as usual, pitch-black darkness. Another fine day in the Dark General's prison.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, even though he knew that would only make the next nudge harder. This was about principle. He was the fucking crown prince. That was the entire reason he'd been kidnapped. The least he could do was remind his captors about his privilege at every opportunity. Sometimes, he did it because he felt it enhanced his chances of survival. Other times, he was driven by the hope they might get fed up and grant him a quick death.

His rib was certainly going to bruise. Again. He squirmed away.

Then, a familiar chuckle from above made his blood curdle.

"Still not a morning person, are you, Your Highness?"

Wonderful. It wasn't any of his usual jailors. It was the General himself.

He breathed through the fear. What was the worst that could happen, at this point? Nothing he hadn't survived before. He would be fine. 

Pain was better than giving up.

"To be a morning person, I would need to face actual mornings," he said. "For all I know, it's midnight. Or noon. Or precisely the time for six o'clock tea, which I'm sure I won't be served, again." He finished with an exaggerated yawn and sat up, stretching as lavishly as his chained wrists allowed him. "Well? Something you need to tell me?"

He braced himself for the sting of one of those blood magic spells, or maybe for a kick in the teeth. Neither came. There was about a seventy percent chance this was a good sign.

But then there was also the pause before the answer, and those seldom meant anything good. The prince supposed he would just have to wait and see.

That was what his entire life has become about lately. Waiting and seeing. Or not seeing, rather, given the abysmal lighting conditions in this god-forsaken dungeon.

He supposed it could be worse. He could be placed in a room with a lot of candles and a nice big mirror for him to survey his pitiful condition. The prince made a mental note of never suggesting this to his captors. Why give them ideas?

"Your father has agreed to pay the ransom," the General said in a voice quite suitable for a courtly discussion of the weather: breezy, indifferent, with daggers hidden behind each syllable. "He has even graciously offered to double the amount."

It doesn't mean anything, the prince immediately told himself. Not while I'm still here. He couldn't even be sure whether this was anywhere close to the realm of truth. Another brainfuck seemed as likely as anything.

"What a loss to the royal treasury. Next, will you tell me I'm free to go home?"

The General scoffed. "Certainly not. He is still, you see, stubbornly refusing to abdicate."

Of course he is. 

There were times the crown prince hated his father for this. Wished he'd been born to a different bloodline, one that valued its offspring more than its power. He understood, though, that if he hailed from a family like that, he'd be far worse at surviving.

He took after his father, after all. Also stubbornly refusing to give up, no matter how much easier it would make his life if he did.

"Good for him. Bad for me, I guess. So, where do we go from here?"

He wished the General stopped making those pauses. Anticipation was always the worst.

#warden's random scribbles #whumptember2023 #original fiction #flash fiction #snippet #whump writing #writeblr #writblr #my writing #writers on tumblr #captive #chains around the wrists #sensory deprivation #imprisoned #hostage

[cardworksartblog]

Hi uhhh. So yk animation v minecraft? Yea me and a friend made an au w some ocs lol. Heres the desings for canon characters i came up w bc u guys r probably Bored. Circe and her weird bug r there too dont mind them, click/tap for better resolution and quality, yadda yadda.

Summary of the au is basically. DnD esque universe where King Mango's son Gold gets sucked into a rift in dimensions and then spat out on the other side of the world at age like 4. Abt like 7 years later Mango hears rumours abt his son possibly being Alive, and puts out a bounty as a last ditch effort to see if its true; anyone who can get his son back to him gets half the royal treasury.

Me and my friends ocs who are a band of bisexual assassins with History w mango see this and go 'oh we'll just pick some random 11 year old up and trick him lol', accidentally getting The Actual Kid mango is looking for. Theres a problem tho bc victim, whos the grim reaper, basically sends their forces after them bc good technically shouldnt be alive. Also chosen, dark and circe are bounty hunters and have a hit on the assassins bc they killed a duchess.

Im still working on the story layout for the rw story so like. Yea enjoy hearing abt my adventures in hyperfix hell. Character tidbits under the cut lol

Character titbits;

Green may or may not be a homunculus. I do not confirm nor deny this idea as canon.

Red is the Beast King's runaway child (the beast king is herobrine).

Purple isnt pictured bc i havent designed them yet but they were basically given as a gift to mango by their father, the Fae King.

Yellow lived in a semi futuristic dystopian underground colony completely shut off from the rest of the world and escaped getting executed for trying to give the general public redstone bc of a reactor melting down and fucking exploding.

Gold gets wings and a pair of mini brass weapon scythes after they and the assassins win a fight against victim at the end of the journey. They're essentially like vic's blessing and way of admitting they were defeated fair and square.

Circe came out of the same rift that teleported gold onto a whole different side of the earth. She and gold lived at the same orphanage for a few years before she decided to run away to find answers bc her eyes are fucked up. Shes like an isekai mc but ends up being the source of the rifts and its a Whole Fucking Thing.

Sec was made by a god of creation semi intentionally, whereas chosen was made accidentally and treated like a servant and dark was made from the raw energies of the war that killed victim and turned them into a god of death instead of a god of harvest. To avoid the other gods reacting badly to a second 'chosen one' his creator sent him down to the world w no memories. Seconds whole purpose for going on adventures is to find out where he came from.

Blue was the first one to join sec on his journey and is a normal guy aside from his immunity to poisons.

The living hollowheads r all demigods lol.

#inane ramblings #avm green #avm king orange #avm mango #avm blue #avm red #avm tsc #avm yellow #avm gold #avm oc #avm the second coming #avm the dark lord #avm the chosen one #avm au #avm #avm victim #Cinni's Alternate Universes #< new sorting tag for my aus lol

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Bounty Hunter Zuko

It’s exactly 20 days until the election and I’m busy as fuck, so might not get anything published for a while. But it is WiP Wednesday, so have a snippet.

The Earth Kingdom loved its paperwork. Everything needed the proper documentation and officials were delighted to hold you up until you got it.

Zuko got good at forging the needed documents for when they docked in an Earth Kingdom port. They didn’t do so often… but there were only so many neutral ports in the world and Zuko had a lot of ground to cover searching for the Avatar.

There was one document he hadn’t had to forge though. This one he got totally legitimately, through a bizarre interview process and a brief exam. This document was perhaps his most important one. It identified him as an official bounty hunter – and it turned out, while people didn’t necessarily want to talk to bounty hunters, they were more tolerant of their presence in town than they would normally be for someone so obviously Fire Nation. It didn’t matter that he was Fire Nation, because he had the proper documents proving he could be there.

He was pretty sure that the officials who gave him the license hadn't realized who he was. Even though he’d given them his real name.

At any rate, being an official bounty hunter was useful.

His ship, despite not being part of the navy, did actually receive a stipend for crew salaries and maintenance. There was no allowance for Zuko, of course, because this was a punishment, but fortunately, Uncle had access to his own money and the royal family’s treasury, so Zuko could usually get what he needed even if he couldn’t justify it for ship use. Still, it was humiliating, needing to rely on his Uncle to buy things for him or give him money to do so himself. He much preferred when he earned his own money.

Thus, bounty hunting.

He’d started by accident. Tracking a lead on the Avatar (that turned out false, like all others) had led him to a crew of conmen who had been faking spirit sightings and extorting villagers for protection. Zuko had just finished beating their asses when the bounty hunter had shown up looking for them. Since Zuko had done all the hard work, he insisted on getting part of the bounty.

June had stared at him for a long minute, then agreed, on the condition that he buy her a drink with some of his pay. After he’d gotten to ride Nyla, June’s shirshu, and after they’d turned the conmen in to the bounty office, they had settled down in the diviest port bar Zuko had ever seen. Not a single person batted an eyelash at a thirteen year old purchasing a bottle of vodka.

Then June had poured them both drinks – vodka was disgusting – and sat back, assessing him with her gaze. “You’d be good at this,” she said.

“This?” Zuko asked, trying not to retch. Why the fuck did people find drinking enjoyable?

“Hunting bounties.”

Zuko had gaped at her, but she’d grinned and given him the information for how to apply for a bounty hunter’s license.

In honesty, he’d mainly gone through with it because June had left two of her own golden coins to pay the fee. He hadn’t actually planned on hunting down criminals, he really hadn’t.

But the pay was good. Really good. Good enough that not only did Zuko have his own spending money, but they could afford to get some major repairs done on the ship. Engineer Nasam had been shrieking about how the boiler would blow up on them any day now for months, but they simply hadn’t been able to afford a replacement.

After Zuko’s first bounty? Not only could they replace the boiler, but they could give it an upgrade.

June came to him occasionally for bounties where Nyla couldn’t get a scent, but she wanted to bag them anyway. He was an expert tracker and she was much, much better at getting people to tell her all the local gossip. They made a pretty good team.

And sometimes the gossip that June uncovered gave him a lead on the Avatar. None that ever panned out, but still.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #my fics #bounty hunter zuko #wip wednesday

[fitzykreiner]

damie medieval au, dani is the unassuming yet confident and brave princess expected to marry one of her male suitors from another kingdom but she falls in love with one of the castle ground’s gardeners who is a little rough around the edges but has a heart of gold

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani x jamie #dani clayton #jamie taylor #sarah txt #don’t mind me i’m just a sucker for medieval aus #it doesn’t matter what fandom it is i will always be on that shit #they run away with the help of owen the head cook. somehow he magically knows of a well kept up but abandoned cabin #at the border of the kingdom in a small village where no one has ever seen any of the royals and welcome dani & jamie into their community #dani stole enough money from the castle treasury storeroom to live off of for basically life so they don’t need paying jobs #dani teaches the village children for free and jamie starts their own personal garden with tips from owen on how to grow food #and she grows a separate garden just for plants and flowers that everyone is welcome to walk through #so long as they don’t fuck up jamie’s work. jamie makes flower arrangements for village dinners and peoples anniversaries and celebrations #i’m getting a little carried away with this but yeah y’all get the gist #damie medieval au or bust #oh wait and then there could be drama with like castle knights arriving in town looking for the princess #and the village realizes its dani but covers for her #if i had any skill in writing i would actually flesh this out and write it but alas

[theroguesharlequin]

Coldflash or Coldflashwave, Royal AU, bodyguard/royal guard, + First Time (yes I will just keep asking for smut because you write it so well!)

He was such a pretty prince. Could they really be blamed for wanting a taste of something so refined and pure? To make that pristine crown just a little crooked?

Len and Mick had been paid to reinforce the castle's security after one too many assassination attempts on the Prince's life, on top of too many attempts to break into the treasury.

They were happy to take on the extremely well paying job (and leave just a few backdoors for their own personal use) with its many perks. Meeting the sweet and determined royal was just a bonus. A rather good one.

Barry, he insisted they call him Barry but Len preferred Scarlet, hadn't actually been raised royal. His life had been that classic fairy tale where a lowly farm boy ("I wasn't raised on a farm, Snart!") had turned out to be a long lost prince all this time ("Well technically my mother was a Duchess, but my uncle Eobard was-")

Either way, it had the benefit of making him bearable enough not to want to punch at every opportunity as opposed to other nobility. (Which was good, because that meant Mick's temper wouldn't cost them the job.)

The little prince held equal fascination with them, wanting to know their opinions on everything. And he actually listened attentively, using what he learned to govern his people better.

To be better.

Perhaps Central's future king wouldn't be a complete waste. ("Actually I'm not sure I want to be king. I'd much rather institute a democratic-")

After thwarting yet another attempt on Barry’s life, he insisted on patching them up. Mick was a little too happy to remove his clothes and let Barry get at the knife wound on his thigh. Len had let him tend the cut across his chest, close enough to feel his breath.

The blushing but attentive gaze Barry held as he tended them had sealed it for them.

The days after that, it took surprisingly little whispering in the Prince's ear, pressing too close for any illusions of politeness, and clever possessive hands touching royal assets to have the Prince come begging at their chambers.

It was quite the stroke to their egos, Len would admit, and to their pride as well.

Len had him first as was for the best for all involved. Mick wasn't particularly a rough lover despite what most would think, but his size just didn't allow for much gentleness either.

And of course their pretty Scarlet was a virgin, so extra consideration was necessary.

They made sure Barry was crying for them, wearing nothing but the softest red tunic (they loved him in red) as they took him apart bit by bit, bite to those pretty thighs by bite.

Len was sweet with him the first round, oh how quick and untried their Scarlet was, but by the second he was begging for Len to give him more. He had him on all fours, pretty ass in the air with a hand tugging on soft brown hair while Mick showed him just what his pretty mouth was really for.

Len finished with Barry leaning over Mick, whispering terrible deviant things a sweet Prince should never hear into his ear, as Mick played with his mouth.

As soon as Len pulled out, Mick pressed inside and had Barry ride him himself. It was cute to watch the wrecked Prince take a little control. Those strong legs built up from running and riding horses were certainly much better put to use riding cock.

After Barry collapsed against his chest, Mick held him tight and fucked into him much faster than Barry had managed, until all the little Prince could do was whimper and cry for them.

When Mick was finished, Len gave their Scarlet a long thorough kiss, stealing his very breath away until the Prince fell into sleep.

If anyone discovered the Prince was not in his room, Len and Mick could just say they were guarding his body much more closely tonight.

And perhaps his heart too.

#barry allen #coldflash #leonard snart #flash drabble #harle hums #coldflashwave #mick rory #flashwave

[shoezuki]

Techno givin me a reason to fucking tap into tftsmp for the first time i cant believe this shit. We got half a month Drought n now jes like throwing out breadcrumbs for us at a park bench. And we are a flock of seagulls squabbling over what little he offers us.

Anyways i know its a ballroom vibe n techno better either be a) dressed the FUCK up lookin like some rich bougie ass whiteboy who jus tanked the royal treasury or b) jus straightup wearing the Exact same skin because he already got them vibes

#mcyt #technoblade

[sins-and-hubris]

pls good sir, I'm starving for some camboy Lurien AU (also I'm sprry if this ask got sent twice Dx)

jkshdfbg no worries! Sorry for the delay, I had to dig through my discord messages to find where I talked about it

So basic rundown on the camboy Lurien AU:

-Lurien's pining for PK but is comfortable in his love being unrequieted so he decides to manage his fantasies like an actual responsible adult instead of ignoring them in the hope that they'll magically go away (aka he buys himself toys to take the edge off of heats and general longing)

-Then he decides to go 'eh fuck it, I'll stream to not feel lonely and to get extra bucks for all these paints' bc as loaded as he is, he usually ends up throwing a bunch of his geo into repair costs/support payments for people in the City, so his salary doesn't cover some batshit expensive colours he wants. (note here: Hallownest is p. much the same but with extra tech advancements so camboys are a thing, maybe they have magical computertech formed with pale ore and crystals mined from the peaks). Plus his fear of being watched means he has a bit of an exhibionist kink, which helps take his mind off of the painful pining he sometimes experiences when he's horny

-The porn industry is an actual legit job here btw, there's healthcare and everything. Lurien's just doing this as a side hobby for extra bucks, so he's baffled when this whole thing goes from being just something he does for stress relief to him becoming like the second most popular pornstar after flukemarm (who does mainstream stuff and is. weird). His pornstar self is basically his superman alter ego where nobody knows its him but everyone wants to know who tf the pretty camboy is, partially because he's a butterfly (which is rare to Hallownest), and partially because he has some pretty artistic tastes in sex, so his streams are usually very aesthetically pleasing

-Also Lurien wears a different mask and paints his wings/wears thigh high socks to remain unidentifiable, bc butterfly wing markings tell wayyy too much and his biological third eye is way too distinct. The fake mask has none of the protective spells of an actual Hallownest mask and doesn't cover his actual eyes very well but it does hide his third eye so its basically a case of like. The superhero guy looking the exact same but people only recognize him without glasses

-Only PK and WL know who he is, and thats after they stumbled across his page by accident one day when they were trying to figure out the internet. Both immediately recognized him, went 'oh he's perfect for this, good for him,' and after a little bit of curious watching, PK got....invested, much to WL's amusement. Shenanigans ensues

-And by shenanigans I mean that PK doesn't actually come forth and starts courting him directly after Lurien's streams catch his attention, he instead meticulously crafts an untrackable account and sends him fat geo tips with suggestions in the heat of the moment without actually coming forward and telling him that he found his pornography sidejob. It's not like it's affecting Lurien's efficiency at being a Watcher or anything (if anything it improves it), so he figures that it's best to just not talk to him about it, all while remaining completely oblivious to his own feelings.

-Lurien has no idea who tf he is or why this hot rich dude keeps requesting double penetration and PK has to keep a stoic face when people question him what plan he's working on that's important enough to deplete the royal treasury

-Lurien's known specifically for his aesthetic choices in dicks (which tend to be rather large bc most dildos available in Hallownest don't have the pronounced ridges needed to stimulate the g-spot on butterflies, so large = more friction and pleasure for him), his tendency to be kinda shy and reverent and honest, as well as his ability to incorporate sort of gentle fantasy roleplaying into things which makes him p. popular. He's turned it into more of an art form and is kinda like the polar opposite to Flukemarm's Powerhouse of Fuck, as I've said earlier. That paired with him being a rare species means he gets a lot more attention than he normally would otherwise.

-He'd also probs stay for a couple moments after streams to chat to quell the post-nut loneliness, which makes him even more popular. This doesn't really endanger him being found out, as no one ever actually speaks to him in person and his voice is sort of quiet and unremarkable when he's not trying to govern a city, so only PK, WL, and maybe Monomon or Herrah would recognize him

-Lurien's like. The aesthetic yet honest fuck. People treat his videos like they would treat a fine wine. He has no idea what to think of it and it's honestly really awkward for him because people will chat about him around the watercooler at work and he has to just kinda deal with it, all while internally screaming whenever PK walks by because he's terrified he'll find out about his sexy alter ego, while PK's just trying to act normal around him so that he doesn't tip Lurien off on him KNOWING he does sex work

-So basically Lurien and PK are still doing their whole job of running things in the city while not talking to each other or giving a single indication of what's going on; WL is immensely grateful she works in the social/agricultural/spiritual sections bc watching Lurien subtly flare his wings and PK unconsciously trying to court would be like offering a persian mother a whole collection of soap operas to watch during work

-Lurien: as you can see, my lord, with your permission I plan to put the Soul Master on trial for several counts of kidnapping, bugslaughter, medical malpractice

-PK, staring at Lurien's ass and not listening to a damn word he's saying: mm.

#camboy!au #camboy lurien #reply #your honour i love them #oblivious pining is the best #might draw this at some point too bc that would be fun as fuck #lurien 100% would do some blacklight fuckin lmao

[pitviperofdoom]

hi! I love your writing! for the ask game, if you want, if you’ve got more for the tower au or the superpowers au? both sound SO cool but i’m not creative enough to come up with specific questions lol

Here’s a snippet from Tower AU!

“Right, couple of questions,” said Gerard. “First off, how do you know your prince isn’t dead? Three months is a long time. For all you know, the dragon carried him off and killed him immediately.”

Bouchard raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s not quite correct,” he said. “You seem to recognize me, somewhat. Do you know who I am?”

“Elias Bouchard, court wizard, highest magical academic authority in several kingdoms including this one,” Gerard replied. “Is this a roundabout way of saying you’ve already scried for answers?”

“We understand each other, then.” Bouchard smiled. Gerard didn’t like his smile. “Unfortunately, there are… limitations to scrying, as I’m sure you know.”

Gerard did know, unfortunately, and it seemed Bouchard wanted to lead him to it by the hand instead of just answering the damned question. Fuck, he hated talking to academics. “You’ve scried on the prince already, so you know he’s alive, but you can’t tell where he is.” Bouchard smiled again. “Right, so d’you have any idea where this thing took him?”

“Accounts vary,” Bouchard replied. “The dragon was last seen heading east. Its lair is suspected to be somewhere in the mountains.”

Gerard stared at him. “The mountains to the east,” he said.

“That is what I said.”

“The mountains that used to be Huntsmen territory, and are now miles of unchecked wilderness drowning in magic.”

“That is my understanding of it, yes.”

“Those mountains.”

“Is there a problem?” Bouchard asked.

“No, not at all.” For the first time, Gerard smiled back. “I’m genuinely fascinated to hear what you think you can pay me to wander blindly into those mountains after a dragon.”

He would do it, of course. He had been walking into certain death for so long that it was practically a fixed point on the horizon. But on the off-chance that he actually survived it, a job like this was going to take a hefty price. Not money either, though kingdoms would drop gold by the sackful to get their precious royals back. No, a man like Elias Bouchard provided a rare opportunity. The greatest authority on the study of magic had a library to match, and Gerard would settle for no less than unrestricted access to it.

The spot over his left shoulder blade itched at the thought of it.

Bouchard raised an eyebrow at him. “Does the job seem too much for you?” he asked. “Your name is supposedly a familiar one to the desperate.”

“Maybe it is,” Gerard said with a shrug. “Can’t control what people say about me.”

“They say you are a warlock of considerable power—”

“Wrong on both counts,” Gerard said. “First off, I don’t have ‘considerable power,’ just a bit of common sense. Some people can’t tell the difference. And second off—not a warlock. I’m a witch.”

“My mistake,” Bouchard said with a thin smile. “In any case, all expenses for your efforts will be paid from the royal treasury—”

For the first time since Gerard had walked in, the frowning noblewoman spoke up. “Elias, do you really have the authority to make that promise?”

Bouchard turned to her, barely inclining his head. “As chief adviser to the throne, I believe I do.” The woman looked like she was about to protest, but Bouchard cut her off. “You may be next in line for that throne, Lady Sasha, but as long as the prince still lives, you have no claim to its authority.” His eyes glinted dangerously. “Besides, do you have an objection to paying whatever price is necessary for your poor cousin’s rescue?”

The noblewoman’s face was steady, but it looked as if it took a lot of effort to keep the scowl off of it. Her guard, on the other hand, had no such reservations. “Of course not,” Lady Sasha replied.

“Then we are in agreement,” Bouchard said, smiling once more at Gerard. “I am happy to discuss your fee, which will of course be in addition to expenses. I even have a starting price in mind, if you’re interested.”

Probably a high number, or some priceless family heirloom. Maybe even a title, if Bouchard was feeling particularly creative. Gerard smiled wryly at the thought. “I’d love to hear it.”

Bouchard told him. The smile dropped from Gerard’s face.

#wip tag game #tower au #gerard keay #elias bouchard #imtyredaf

[leafy-wings]

We should get a book in the POV of one of the lower circle icewing dragons like i bet they hate the monarchy maybe they’re planning to kill the royals and form a revolution or something I’d love to see that

seconding this, its a shame that tdg is about snowfall because shes just winter part 2. itd feel too repetitive if we had another icewing book esp when we need mudwing or skywing POVs which would both be more interesting for the novelty of it-

i really wish that tdg just wasnt about snowfall. more details below. but yeah i agree monarchy bad revolution good. put the power in the peoples talons

she doesnt really do anything that would necessitate her being her (mostly because she really doesnt do anything, period) aside from being royal which you could just pass by, like. getting permission from snowfall if you were a non snowfall character. like she doesnt even need to be a royal to appear in the queen meetings considering that tsunami and the advisors are there. really itd be more interesting if it was about lynx as she seems way more knowledgeable about icewing culture compared to snowfall who, when faced with narrative questions, responds with “i dont know, and im not going to learn”. like we dont learn about other icewing settlements, because snowfall just doesnt know about them. 

and again i always pro destroy the monarchy. every problem in this series is caused by the monarchy. war of sandwing succession? caused by the monarchy. queen coral neglecting 100% of her children? caused by the monarchy. animus corruption from albatross, darkstalker, fathom, and anemone? caused by the monarchy. nightwing/rainwing battle? caused by the monarchy. breath of evil? not caused by the monarchy but like wasp would have a lot harder of a time if she wasnt a queen

there is NO reason they should be lead by one single line of dragons when it hasnt done anything at all to help them. its not like tuis gonna get into the politics of the potential pros of monarchy, when we see little snippets of it from snowfalls perspective snowfall outright is like yeah i dont participate in that shit, i hate it when the other queens contact me about trade or treaties. theyre not like humans where theres limited farmable land that you can hold over others heads and have them work to make a product for you in exchange for that land when you are dragons and you can fly anywhere and eat raw food. hungry? just grab a fucking bird. need shelter? go into a cave. and its not like it would be hard to assassinate a queen, when you have knives for hands and the way the world works if you kill a queen you become the queen, it means that the people who sided with the queen CANNOT touch you because youre queen now.

literally theres nothing to stop a dragon from murdering a queen, being recognized as queen but going “im done with the label, im turning this castle into something useful for other dragons and going to turn into like a traveler or some shit giving out the luxuries i previously had”. its not like queens do anything or oversee dragon business as far as we know so most dragons literally wouldnt notice except for more positive morale because now youre not expected to be at the beck and call for someone who wants you to kill people

i wish this book was about lynx but even then it doesnt change that nothing really happens in book 14 except for dumps and dumps and dumps of exposition. what does snowfall DO? she exposits. goes into the treasury. exposits more. meets the pantalans where they exposit. they go to jerboa. snowfall exposits in dreams. snowfall wakes up and everyone exposits at her. snowfalls exposits in dreams again. snowfall wakes up and everyone exposits at her. thats literally the first 150 pages. then she does the only actual Thing which is talking to scavengers for a bit. and then she goes to sleep and exposits. and now im 3/4th of the way done with the book

this turned out more long and stupid than i thought but god. monarchy overthrowing is my bread and butter because its like modern europe monarchy where “they dont do anything so its okay!” but like they can still call for war and probably veto laws and in dragon no one else is doing anything

#tdg spoilers #wof spoilers #book 14 spoilers

[insertmeaningfulusername]

WHAT IF, POV, THE END

Omg okay I have too many WIPs, but I’ll just choose the Cherik fairy tale I should theoretically lay aside in order to work on the Big Bang. 

WHAT IF (fuck this is difficult) Charles had not listened to Emma who told him to cross the forest of world’s end so he could kiss the Sleeper - his one true love - awake:  So, the Prince and his companion turned their back on the forest and made for a civilised village, intent on taking up their life of rootless travel once more.  Soon however, Charles fell ill. In his chest, his heart stuttered and fluttered, and ere a healer could be called, it broke with the terrible sound of cracking bones and forlorn hope.  And Jean knew that there was no more saving the kingdom and its people. 

POV - Prince Charles gets kicked out of the castle by Kurt Marko god I hate this guy:  Kurt Marko watched with satisfaction as his useless stepson trotted through the palace gate on his mule and was soon swallowed by the distance. The wretched bastard child of the deceased King had drawn on their resources and time far too long already, but now that he was gone, surely destined to a dirty death somewhere in the gutter of a cart track, Kurt could be certain that now nothing would stop him from well and truly transforming the Xavier’s kingdom into what he had always dreamed of: a well-oiled machine constructed to fill the palace’s treasuries to the brim and ensure that his son Cain would be the first of a long bloodline of Westchesterian royals with an iron grip on their people. 

THE END - Charles kissed the Sleeper, and so they lived happily ever after:  ‘Twas the day of the King consort’s coronation. Charles Xavier of Westchester would marry Erik of Genosha, effectively binding them together to death and beyond, so that the alliance of their kingdoms would be forever ensured.  Charles woke Erik, his beautiful Sleeper, hours before dawn.  “Am I still awake?” was the first thing the Genoshan heir asked him, and it broke the King’s heart to see him so scared, so terrified still of the thrall of the spell he had been under for so many centuries.  “Worry not, my love,” he murmured, “such dreadful fate shall befall you nevermore. Not as long as I am here, by your side.”  “Do you promise?” Erik took Charles’ hand in his and laid them over his heart. “Do you promise that this is not a dream, that you are truly mine, that nothing will ever separate us?”  “I do.” And Charles felt his heart bloom, and when he kissed his betrothed and felt him smile beneath his lips, he knew that this was a promise he would always, always find he could keep. 

[gongju-juice]

HANA

Part One

Word Count: 2628

Warning: Language and Some Angst

Synopsis: President Namjoon can no longer sit and watch his people suffer in the long drawn out war with Daeian Kingdom. But he finds the only to do so is to proceed in a marriage alliance with the daughter of his country’s worst enemy.

Not everyone likes that. 

The thing that defines a nation is not the prosperity of its people, its economical accomplishments, or the culture that affects the everyday lives of millions. 

It is the integrity of its leader, the very face and image of the people who allowed him to rise to power. Perhaps, this is where other great nations fail. From Julius Caesar to Hitler—the ambitions of one man can steadily build a nation to power over the course of many years, but just the same, burn it to ashes in one single day.

Kim Namjoon, honorable President of Hana knew this too, and knew it well. Ever since his inauguration, he’d made it a priority to brave the best smile for the citizens of his country. As one of the only true Democratic nations left in such a corrupt world, Hana was constantly being looked to both as a beacon of light and as a target overdue for destruction. There were shadows lurking about that seeked not only the downfall of Hana, but the permanent eradication of Hanaeian way of life and government.

So why, you might ask, was he standing behind his presidential podium on the top balcony of the Pearl Palace, announcing to his people and the Blue District his intentions to marry the daughter of Hana’s most formidable enemy nation?

“Brothers and Sisters,” he called, leaning into the podium. His nails dug deep into the ancient rose wood, carving indents into the glossy covering. “I come to you again in the name of reason. We have been in a stalemate war with the Kingdom of Yeir for three decades now, wasting generations of our sons’ blood for a fight that has long lost its purpose. It is time we make peace, for Hana was founded on this precious ideology that the rest of the world refuses to partake in.”

A sea of gasps sounded below the balcony, and as far as he could see, people were crowded onto the broad green lawn of the Pearl Palace. This war they’d been fighting, this war they’d been dying for—it was a ceaseless cycle of bloodshed and violence. How could Hana proclaim to be the most sensible nation when in reality it had been constantly fighting its demons and draining its people of morale and hope?

“I have sent a proposition to King Dae and his royal court,” he continued, “in an effort to arrange a peace agreement and end this unceasing war once and for all.”

The people surged in approval, and although he was a high above them in the Pearl Palace, the sound was nearly deafening. He cleared his throat loudly, and the sound reverberated throughout the courtyard, bringing the people to contented silence.

“With compromise comes sacrifice. As your leader, I pray that you are willing to lend me your trust. Dealing with this. . .kingdom and its ancient form of government, there are bound to be terms and limits that may not exactly align with Hana’s policies. Please understand that these are all necessary stipulations.”

The crowd remained quiet, and it both pleased him and terrified him. The next words he were to say would define the remainder of his term. Four years. . .in Hana; one could be President for life. However, it was very easy to go down in history books as either a saint or sinner, and Namjoon hoped to go down as the former. But for the sake of the country, he’d be willing to go down as the latter if it only meant it would guarantee the safety of his fellow countrymen.

“King Dae has offered Crown Princess Y/N’s hand in marriage in exchange for a complete cease of fire.”

Suddenly, the crowd erupted. There were people shouting his name—some in support and others in, well, quite the opposite. The guards monitoring the situation moved in closer, but there was not much they could do. Namjoon pre-instructed the Head of Security, Matthew Kim, not to let his guards touch the people. He couldn’t risk the situation escalating any further and further paint the situation in a negative light.

“I know it sounds absurd. As a Democratic nation, Hana never envisioned having to put itself in such a precarious position. But sadly, the world does not revolve around Hana, and if we are going to peaceably exist in this world, there will be things we will have to do in order to ensure that privilege.”

Namjoon felt his Secretary of State, Jung Jaehyun, tense at his side. As the Secretary of State, he was responsible for foreign affairs and the diplomatic handling of other nations. Namjoon internally beat himself over it; he was the one who’d ask Jaehyun to arrange the engagement with the Yeir Kingdom, which would in turn not only damage his own reputation, but Jaehyun’s reputation as well. He was a good man, and good men did not deserve the blame he was sure to receive.

“Because I know this is such a tremendous task, I shall be the one to carry the responsibility of being wed to the Princess,” he explained, gripping the podium even tighter. “And I know you’re probably wondering why you did not hear of these plans through Congress. I’m using the authority of my limited executive orders to get this task done.”

Cameras snapped and children screamed in the crowd. He straightened the papers on the podium and quickly skipped to the end of his speech.

“Once again, I acknowledge the fact that my decision is not a popular one. But as President, it is not my duty to be popular. It is my duty to see to it the people of Hana continue to exist in peace and self-autonomy for generations to come.”

He watched as the telepromopter changed to Vice President, Lee Taeyong’s, dialogue, and he turned and left the podium with screaming people behind him. Fiddling with the sleeves of his suit, he fell into step beside his Secretary of State and felt the heated stares of his cabinet burn a whole in the back of his head.

“How are the plans going?” he said after he couldn’t bear the fiery silence any longer.

Jaehyun tucked his files under his arm and seemed to speed up. The ambitious young man was the perfect choice for the position, which is why he immediately hired him in his cabinet. When they weren’t working, which wasn’t often, they sat around the Pearl Palace and drank Soju as just friends. It was during these times that they could be normal civilians, just associates hanging around without the mandated roles of being public officials.

“The Princess and her arrangements are underway, but King Dae requests the traditional wedding present in the form of a dowry.”

“Dowry?” the President repeated. “Like money?”

“Land. He wants her to inherit one of the islands of the coast of the country, and he wants her future son to have a guaranteed position in the Pearl Palace.”

Namjoon gulped. “Son? Like, he expects us to—”

“Conceive a child? What did you think this was? There’s no way a tyrant like him would jeopardize his lineage all for the sake of a peace treaty.” Jaehyun gave him a worried glance, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a president, Namjoon. And he’s a king. Honest men shouldn’t work with men like King Dae, and honestly, if I didn’t trust you as much as I do, I wouldn’t have done half the things you’ve asked me to do recently.”

They rounded about one of the corners and came into the Rose Office, which was Namjoon’s personal study. Inside, the Governors of all eight districts were present. 

Hana was divided into seven districts with seven separate Governors that reported to the President occasionally. Usually, these meetings were done digitally, but with the special situation at hand, Namjoon wanted the seven leaders to visit him in person.

Lisa Manoban, his Secretary of Domestic Affairs; and Park Jimin, his Secretary of Treasury, were also present for the occasion. They were his right hand people, and he trusted them with his life.

“What the hell is wrong is with you?” Kim Jognin demanded, as he whirled on his heels. “Do you think we’re some kind of pushovers who’ll let you do whatever you want? We are the ones in charge of the nation, not you. You’re just a name. A figurehead. We did not give you authority to do such a rash—”

“If you keep speaking to our president like this, I will make it my priority to make things difficult for you in the future,” Lisa warned, folding her arms across her chest. “Namjoon doesn’t have to inform you of anything if you won’t give him a fair chance to begin with.”

Namjoon sat down in his swivel chair, hands finding purchase in the thick of his hair. “That’s enough. We have business to discuss. Everyone take a seat, please.”

They did as they were told, and now it was silent as they waited for the president to make ready on his promise.

“I should’ve told you about the deal,” he admitted. “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I knew that if I would’ve, you would’ve never gone along with it. Congress would’ve never gone along with it. I found an opportunity, and I had no choice. King Dae wasn’t going to wait much longer.”

“So how are we supposed to quell the people’s worries?” Chungha asked. “They absolutely loathe the Daeian people. How could they stomach a Daeian Princess in the Pearl Palace?”

Namjoon’s fingers fell to his jaw and he reclined back in his chair. “Once they see their sons, nephews, and fathers coming back from the front, they will accept it. It’ll take time, and it won’t be easy, but they’ll come around. With your help.”

“Our help?” Im Jaebum chuckled. “And why the fuck would we ever give you that?”

“Because Namjoon already told the public that you’re on board. You have no choice but to do it now, because if you don’t, then you’ll be going back on your word.” Jaehyun answered, turning on the holographic display of his watch to show the signed letter sent out to every household in Hana.

“And that’s supposed to scare us? That you lied and have no proof behind it?”

“It should. It should terrify you. Because even if you didn’t agree and this flops and they crucify Namjoon, who do you think they’ll come after next?”

Jaehyun had a point. Arguably, the Governors were the most powerful individuals in the country after the president. But in the heat of anger, the public would hunt them down and overthrow them just as sure. They had no choice but to cooperate.

“Another thing,” Jimin began, “Her dowry. Jinyoung, I hate to ask this favor of you—”

The Governor raised his hand. “Say no more. As Governor of the Lilac District, it would be an honor to aid our president in protecting our country. Which island does she want?”

“Preferably the Southern Isle. We’ll have to find accomodations for the refugees living on that land elsewhere. The Federal Treasury will completely cover the cost, so do not worry.”

“I can’t believe this,” Jennie, Governor of the Blue District, growled. The Blue District happened to be the home of the Capitol and Pearl Palace, so she and Namjoon constantly got into power struggles. “This is bullshit. Now you’re taking away Jinyoung’s land?”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t say this would be easy, folks. You think I want this marriage to happen? Do you think I wanted to be married to the daughter of my sworn enemy?! I’m doing this for you, so your children won’t have to continue to fight in this bloody, eternal war. Hopefully in the future we can make arrangements so Jinyoung won’t actually have to lose power, but for now, we have to at least pretend if we’re going to get this deal to go through.”

It was quiet as the Governors took everything in. This would mean big changes, not just for their lives but the country as a whole. And refusing to cooperate could potentially mean the end of Hana—hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

“You didn’t have to do this,” San considered, a sigh leaving his lips. He was the youngest Governor among the bunch, but he never seemed to have any problems. He represented the Green District, the district responsible for agriculture and food reserves. “But I’m glad you did it anyway. For years, my people have been required to send at least one adult male from their family to fight for the country. The labor is mostly left up to the women and children, and it’s affecting their education and morale. It’s less noticeable in other districts because of the type of work that is assigned to them, but in my district, we work in the fields and barns all day long, and it isn’t easy to provide for the entire nation.”

“Perhaps the refugees who have passed most of their background checks can be relocated to my district,” Irene suggested thoughtfully. She governed the Indigo District which was composed mainly of barren snow desert with a few scattered villages that harvested oil.

Namjoon nodded at them appreciatively. It was ironic that the least powerful Governors were the ones who had his back. But still, it was better than nothing. The last thing he wanted was his other people to be split apart. He wanted them to at least try to fulfill his plan.

“The Princess will arrive next week to the Red District,” Jaehyun informed them. “Jognin, you will be responsible for her safe delivery and accommodations. We expect nothing but the best for our guest.”

He rolled his eyes and sank lower into his chair. “Fine.”

“And, Jennie, while she has her tour of the District, you must prepare the Blue District for her arrival. The wedding, reception, and royal accommodations will all be in your hand. The Treasury will cover you for that, but you must consult Jimin before any permanent transactions are made.”

Namjoon rose to his feet. “I really do appreciate you for all of your hard work. It isn’t accomplishing something as controversial and risky as this. I do believe if we all work together, we can get this done and spare the people of this war. If you won’t do it for me, then please, do it for them.”

The Governors bowed and began leaving. As they left, Namjoon studied their facial expressions. They were angry for sure—offended by the thought of having to work with the Daeian government—but he sensed hope. Perhaps they weren’t so totally against it as they first let on.

Just before the last person left his office, Jennie stopped in place and waited until they could no longer hear the voices receding.

“Just remember, Namjoon,” she spat, heels clicking as she resumed walking, “We’ve been here longer than you have. Our families have shaped these districts and made it the great societies they are today. If this goes sour, we will not hesitate to take things in our own hands.”

He sighed and looked up at her, noticing the glistening eyes behind her thick designer glasses. She was still hurt. He could see it in her eyes, the way she looked at him with hatred and malice burning in her heart.

“I won’t let anything happen to this country,” he promised, “and most importantly, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She stared at him in disbelief, her hands curled in fists. “Tell that to the princess,” she advised, “because with the staggering amount of people who’ll inevitably come for her life—she’ll need it.”

I don’t know if it’ll be this long every time, but I’m usually long-winded, so maybe so lmao.

#kpop fic #angst #kim namjoon fic #bts fic #presidential au #part one #hana #jennie kim #nct taeyong #nct jaehyun #bts jimin #blackpink lisa #exo kai #kim namjoon x reader #got7 jaebum #got7 jinyoung #red velvet irene #ateez san #daniel dae kim #chungha