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sugar-petals · 1 year

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𝖘𝖚𝖇!NCT ; { 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚍 | 18+}

[ # 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜. ] domme/sub. oral sex. kinks. toys. breath play. semi-public sex.

⟨ AUTHOR’S NOTE. ❌ here’s to a 9-part hc, this time it’s the neos! 5k words total — at this point, i might just name my blog oral fixation central instead of pretty boy central. i picked members who i thought would suit the scenario best, from power bottoms to innocent subs: pick your preference from the little ‘feat’ list below ⬇︎ and if you like what i do: interact and/or reblog ♥︎ enjoy! x

[ + PAIRINGS.] crop top!mark, shy!taeyong, poly soft sub!shotaro, hard sub!yuta, experienced!jungwoo, tease!yangyang, trophy bf!xiaojun, service sub!johnny, pro!ten x femdom!reader respectively

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⇢ MARK 마크 - All about the eye contact while hugging your thighs. You’re comfortably reclined, playing with his soft flowy bangs. His shampoo smells so. Fricking. Good. He’s kneeling there, ass up, one hell of a sight. Why have one nice thing when you could have two at once? Mark eating your cake, you can check out his cake — and spank it later — it’s a win-win. Mark is the kind of guy who blurts out a thousand thoughts per minute, but when he eats you out, the laser focus he’s known for when rapping returns to its full glory. As if he could read your wants and wishes out of your gaze. If you want clit kisses, you get them. Still, Mark often confuses himself in typical style („Hold on, hold on! The towel goes here below, wait, I got it wrong!“), but! He is not confused by you. It’s more about figuring out his technique. Was more cautious at the beginning already, however not because he thought you were unapproachable or mysterious. Mark loves you very much and thinks you’re beyond hilarious. Which is why eating you out is constantly interrupted by mutual laughing fits, no surprise there. His tunnel vision can only last for so long! You make your boyfriend cry tears by making funny faces. He’s caught off guard. It’s good to lighten the mood. Being funnier than Mark is hard to pull off, which makes it even more rewarding to make his face glow from heat, thigh squeezing, and grinning. One hand on his cheek if you can reach, the other at the back of his neck. Mark has the softest peach fuzz on his nape, so satisfying to stroke. What starts out hasty or confused turns into comfy relaxation and trust, Mark knows how much it soothes you.

One scenario became his and your definite favorite. Mark got his driving license, parked in front of your home, honked, and had the audacity to sit there behind the steering wheel with a purple crop top on such a fine evening. Horny and intrigued immediately, all you did was stare during your drive to the take-out spot you like so very much. His hair had gotten pretty long, it was so cute. But Mark’s body was just as inviting, you wanted to touch and ravage and wreck him so damn badly. Mark barely made it halfway through the city that you asked him to drive off the main street. Innocent mind he is, your baby assumed you knew a shortcut through the traffic. Mark winds up stopping the car incredulously somewhere close to an empty laundromat store, this area of the city was fast asleep and abandoned. When you whispered you wanted to fuck him, Mark’s jaw simply dropped. A perfect exercise for what was about to— come. Perfectly sat on his face, you were deepthroating a whiny Mark laying on the backseat seven minutes later, sucking him off in a proper rhythm, seamless, with Mark nipping and dipping his way into your heart from behind. Mark was ready to die fulfilled by getting crushed. He came down your throat so fast, you had to wait until you could ride him hard: A perfect opportunity to enjoy some more chaotic rapper tongue action before, and moaning out loud when you came on his face. Since you were only getting started but Mark was dizzy with love, you took matters into your own hands and went for the ride of your lives.

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⇢ TAEYONG 태용 - Insecure and shifty-eyed at first, both hands trembling in the pockets of his grey hoodie. Leader Taeyong mode: Disengage. Listening well is his guideline here, he relies on bits of praise and your instructions („More to the left — yes… feels good“) to know what works. Sub training is the word. Since he’s more of an intuitive lover who prefers not to jump right into it, Taeyong will build the scenario rather carefully with your orders in mind. Morning, noon, or night, doesn’t matter. The time spent gearing up, arranging his room with the right lights and a movie to watch first, the mood at the moment, that’s time well-spent. Impressionable Taeyong is a perfectionist of staging something in every sense of the word. His tendency for theatrics and hot as fuck eyebrow expressions extends to licking you up when his new mixtape plays. Even when he’s fucked-out from the day, he still reserves this energy for his one and only. Getting better and to the point as he progresses is always the bar. The hoodie stays on. The inhibitions come off. Once he gets going and the playlist switches to Baekhyun, Taeyong sucks your clit like it’s your birthday. You reach the point of no return in one minute flat no matter how slow or fast he goes. Your sweet sloppy sub is well aware where the most sensitive nerve endings are and caters to your every throbbing, pulsing, and twitching of the legs. And if you’re insatiable, horny at 7 in the morning again, Taeyong will drop everything he does and climbs back into your bed to play with your wetness at the tips of his fingers, sucking them rigorously like the true cumslut he is. The scent of his crisp aftershave will make you cum in no time, he smells so fucking good and masculine. This handsome man’s all yours.

Recently figured out how mommy cums as soon as he moans her name. So, he has to use it diligently, not too early, not excessively. You help him place his hands on the outer point of your hips, use his bubbling spit as lube, and show your boo how to angle his glorious jaw. Sooner or later, he almost looks like he’s posing in an expensive photoshoot, that’s how physical he is. Subspace is always just around the corner, so you make a habit of reassuring him that he sucks you off right, that you love this way of pleasure, that he’s good at it. Which is no lie. His tongue is flexible and versatile, to say the very least. And his room isn’t the only place where your little encounter goes down. Taeyong once drove you out to see his old school — you both just wanted to revisit the empty building for some memories. Taeyong got nostalgic, plus he loves to show you forgotten aspects of his life that few other people know. The sports facilities in particular. But eventually, you pressed Taeyong against a locker, heavily made out, and within a blink of his pretty doe eyes, his head was between your legs on an old bench. Your dirty talk was off the fucking charts. The pet names you were peppering him with, too. Three minutes after you hit the peak, Taeyong gladly heard the janitor’s keys click in a close-by room, so you just wound up hiding behind some trees of the school’s baseball field. Out of breath, the two of you. Jeez, did he dress you in record time, and jumped up, and showed you the door out. Those reflexes. While you wait for the janitor to leave, a very amused Taeyong shows you pictures of himself when he was enrolled on his phone… as if he didn’t swallow your every drop just minutes earlier. Yeah, he’s fascinating.

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⇢ SHOTARO 쇼타로 - Kissy lips, kissy face. Squeals with absolute joy when you offer him to have a go — don’t underestimate how much he worships your body. And how much he loves sex, long as it’s not too rough. Shotaro doesn’t like hard subbing, gentle femdom sounds more like it. He won’t risk anything… yet. Wait one or two years and he might as well be super freaky. Until then, no experiments, Yuta’s kinky influence has not corrupted him, but he won’t stop to take a breather either. The perfect mix of commitment and flirt, batting his puppy eyes at you constantly with a very careful mouth at work. Shotaro’s friendly impression is not going to be blown away all of a sudden, that’s not even reserved for moaning his soul out when you peg him. The only time the sweet smile wanes is when your baby feels like you’re not into it — before you even voice it to him. Shotaro is concerned concerned. „Wait! Should I do it differently?“ is the panicked response, and you cool him down for a solid minute with head pats. Making mistakes is what he fears most: Looking pathetic, degraded, embarrassed and unskilled. Needless to say, he’s not the type of submissive who likes humiliation, more points to soft subbing. You say, you’re Shotaro. How could you go wrong. You couldn’t look awful if you tried. Although `going with the flow´ is a washed-out phrase that’s far too simple as a motto, a little bit of calm and laissez-faire really works for him. Not interrupting himself, not checking if absolutely everything is done right, but going ahead and just working his tongue to get some feedback later.

Where he clearly excels is a polyamorous dynamic, romantic and/or sexual: Hear me out. Naturally, he needs no experience with it. He fits right into the mix, acting as a mediator and mood-maker between three parties. Three is good, although four or five is too much for Shotaro to handle, even if the pairs kind of split into couple units within one room. Like two here, three there, or something like that. It’s better to focus and galvanize all the attention on you without distractions or further chaos that would just make the situation uncomfortable. So, three it is. Not a gangbang, just a triad, and if it’s two girls he’ll pleasure at once, he’s right at home. Shotaro is so amicable, his winning smile could put anyone at ease. As I said, despite his lack of experience, he’s a natural. One girl gets to relish his gentle fingers circling and rubbing, the other girl will see his mouth do wonders at the same time. Actually, Shotaro is more confident with a third party around, it’s puzzling. Until you remember he’s part of frickin’ NCT: Their collective buzzing hive mind has likely programmed every member to be good at poly should they choose to try it — don’t ask why, just enjoy. Being around so many people made Shotaro a little awkward in a one-on-one setting, which doesn’t diminish his affection for his main partner, mind you. But you can definitely tell he thrives on poly dynamics, it feels like protection to him. Shotaro’s number one prowess of being able to please will come through immediately, and he’ll do anything to set up the room as romantically as possible. Scented candles, warm blankets, music. Everyone feels secure, and it’s a night you’ll ask to repeat soon. He’s the absolute sweetest, I know.

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⇢ YUTA 유타 - Enjoys you spitting on him beforehand. Properly. Degradingly, with no hesitation, anywhere across his face. Wastes no time submitting to your sadistic, tormenting deeds. Any viable spot in your living space will serve as a theatre for a great scene. Even the cold basement: You, facing any wall standing, Yuta chained and squatted between your legs to eat his meal from behind-below, begging to be crushed, suffocated. Rest assured you’ll feel warmed up in just two minutes. Nastiest groans between loud slurping noises ever. Moves his head side to side a whole lot. Other people around? „Don’t care“ — Yuta wants everyone to know he pleasures your clit superbly well. Likes, wants, craves the aid of ultra-fancy battery toys. Where’s the excitement, the literal buzz? He’s not happy if you don’t get one hell of a show, whipped cream included (yes, his secret weapon). And, you know… him wearing a red rope harness, even thin heels, hard to balance on as the extra challenge. Dressed for the occasion. Always knows, observes, notices when you love it and when you don’t, or if you think some technique is just eh, mediocre, maybe „time for an upgrade“. The upgrade is more tongue-flicking, by the way. Mister Quick & Sloppy knows what’s good. Yuta shows up carrying a little vibrator collection 70% of the time, some very handy electrical friends that he’s gonna use one after the other while you can just relax. Why just one toy when you could have even more sensations? Alternating with his energetic tongue, it’s an interesting method mix, freaky and experimental. So much more intense, and new. They didn’t lie when they said Yuta had vibes. The things he’s smuggled through crowded hotel lobbies with a stone-cold face just to get you off. And: The toys he ordered online, where Taeyong picked up the package, so Yuta lied it was just another boring game he bought to pass the time.

Looks at you very intensely with his head between your legs, and you wink back by habit. It actually flusters him profusely. Don’t underestimate Yuta’s ability to become extremely shy, this man has such a soft spot for his domme. Especially after she destroyed him totally… he loves it, going past his limits all the time. A cane is all you need to break him, only to get all the head you want with Yuta crying. Hard and mischievous shell, soft and whimpery core. One of the best pleasers, knows you inside out. Yuta has his intricately detailed knowledge about the ladies down. Plus his power bottom tendencies equal the amounts of sheer masochism he possesses: Mercilessly smack him across the face between streaks of sucking, right after he catches a breath, and he will be yours. Yuta will plead you to do it again and again. Never cared about shallow orgasms, wants to make you cum for real, it’s the same with him wanting to scream. Wishes there was a way for you to choke him out while he’s doing down on you, but your hands would reach him awkwardly, preferring to pull on his hair anyway: So he just clamps down on his own neck with one hand, circling your nipples with his spit-covered fingers using the other hand, that fucking perv. That Yuta is crazy you already know, but that he likes to pile on several sex techniques at once is a revelation. That he has the skills to do it is not. Sex god. Your nasty boy deserves to be ruined.

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⇢ JUNGWOO 정우 - Prince of chapstick, he feels super smooth. The face, the same. So soft. The prettiest. Prettiest boy to ever pretty. Long as it’s a chill environment and it’s mostly vanilla, he’s down for anything, your goofy sweetheart. Don’t laugh, you could even put on a random Sunday soccer match on his laptop. If there’s no intense penalty shootout and it’s a little monotonous, both teams equally strong so nothing really happens, that’s perfect as a relaxing backdrop with all the occasional commentary and fan chants, volume turned down by 80%. It would sound weird with any other guy, but Jungwoo makes it work. It could be any sports event, in fact. Ice hockey, billiards, whatever. Or music. Or him wearing a silky jersey himself while he goes down on you, his sporty side is such a turn-on. But no stress, no edge, just being sweet together and flirting a lot. He’s cute and hot and kind at once — the amount of facial expressions you’ll see is astounding. Likes the occasional deeper dive if you know what I mean, though not as in, ambushing you with crazy tongue twisters and whatnot. Deliberate is the word. Is not content staying all too superficial or messy, it has to be rhythmical and make sense, making you comfortable. You thought he would be chaotic, but Jungwoo knows exactly what to do, how to dip, so you don’t worry. Except that you’re an immensely possessive domme behind a generous exterior — with eagle eyes, for that matter.

Since your lil’ pup acts like he has done it before a couple times, and Jungwoo confirms he has experience, you feel a bit jealous and even go on bantering. „Enjoyed it?“ Yes, even if you wish you weren’t, you’re jelly. Jungwoo reacts with a sheepish and embarrassed face, he doesn’t want to spill the beans. What’s done is done, he protects the privacy of his exes, evades questions. You eventually calm yourself to take it easy, it’s none of your biz, although saying his past is his past doesn’t really work as a catchphrase for you: You have to make it crystal clear, have him close in, make him say „I am“ when you ask „are you mine, then?“ Despite his seductive come-hither gaze being a masterclass and his humor being outrageous, Jungwoo is a surprisingly patient lover, hating to just rush it or be inaccurate with his plush tongue. You can feel his adoration. And he’s upbeat. A reassuring smile makes your day, it helps you rid yourself off the stress. Every word you say is appreciated. He hates when someone walks all over their partner, it just isn’t right to him. Listening is more important. Jungwoo hates you being pent up, hates you worried or preoccupied. At work, he can deal with himself. At home, he will vent quickly when there’s a bigger problem, but he’d rather tune into you first. He’d do anything to make you feel like you got rid of your problems, he’s your escapist fantasy turned real. Jungwoo has no problem being considered just that. In fact, he wants it, knowing you can take it out on him in gentle ways: Hands in his soft blonde hair, swaying your hips, cumming when he kisses you.

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⇢ YANGYANG 양양 - Eating you out as his signature move? Well, well. Yes and no. Because seemingly, he does anything but: At first. It’s 99% endless teasing everywhere else on your body. Until, completely on edge, you guide his shoulders and have him get to work. With permission, of course, knowing he enjoys it. You wouldn’t hurt this cutie at all costs, though he likes his head controlled by you like this to begin with. So don’t worry too much, he isn’t made of cotton candy, even if his hair color sometimes suggests that. Ironically, it’s the other way around. He wants to taste your cotton candy. With your hands around his temples, holding him in place. Which makes for a sexy POV from both of your positions. Yangyang is working hard, why is he still so immensely eager, how much energy does he even have? It’s admirable how he can tease your body for so long with ghosting kisses and suggestive eye contact. Yangyang being the master of stamina might come as a surprise, but you know how it goes with Libra men. Pleasers till the end of time. That’s exactly why he indulges you so much in prep. Edging is his thing, though you tend to take back control by cussing him out for licking your ankles like a maniac. „What are you, a deprived Victorian man? You sexy fucking sucker, you, God damn…“ Insults make him squeal and laugh, and soon he’s back to the main event, anyway.

Now seriously, why does the cutie trail off so much? Which, granted, makes you even hornier. Propped onto your couch, Yangyang is humming and licking your thighs with that seductive, way too infuriating grin. Even munching on them when he’s extra cocky, up until you say you’ll fucking spank his soul out if he keeps on smiling like a devil. You’ll mark him up at full capacity, slap his butt, pinch his nose, swear you’ll tickle him until he taps out. But kinky Yangyang is not stopped by any threat of punishment whatsoever. What are you gonna do, smack his ass and hope he stops nibbling on your legs for good? If anything, he gets even more riled up and ready to stimulate you even more. Shit, your body’s on fire from all the attention it gets. So, good luck with this sheer untamable brat. He kisses your belly, sucks on your chest at random. Your fingers, too. The neck. The entire palette. Even the fucking ears. Yuta would be proud of Yangyang’s utter depravity. Little did you know it’s all a tastemaker. In your world, he’s increasing the suspense. In his world, he’s courting you, paying attention to all body parts, showing off what he can do with his lips. Oral sex? Nope, kissing first! Holy fuck, he’s absolutely fucking peppering you. You thought Yangyang was too intimidated to go down on you and delayed it, turns out you misunderstood. Guy is just the king of foreplay. And out of all head squad members? Surprise! His oral fixation is the most unruly and developed.

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⇢ XIAOJUN 샤오쥔 - Okay, prepare yourselves. Xiaojun is a little extra with those kind of things, to say the least. Not kinky, just particular. In fact, he is the type to use his whole damn face. Yep. Very deliberately, slow-mo, so you can see and feel everything. Yes, chin and all. His entire technique would appear lazy, uncoordinated and weird to an outsider, but from your perspective, he’s just nasty, he’s giving it his all: Which is exactly what you like. Xiaojun knows that you’re obsessed with the beauty of his otherwordly features from outer space, and he’s always generous with it — „I’m yours, that’s why“. So why not give it a shot, his mouth can only do so much! Does Xiaojun look down on anyone who sticks to the basics? Probably not, he’s too busy in his own relationship. Being perfect, being hot, being all you need, he goes the extra mile for everything. And that happens to include cunnilingus. The cheekbones, the nose, the forehead, even… You get to feel it, too, not just the lips doing their thing. He’s brave, he’s naughty, he’s sensual all at once. Wants you all over him, after all. Slathered up in your wetness, is this Xiaojun’s new makeup routine? It sure looks like it. The man is glowing for all the right reasons.

There is a bit of vanity in his style. He’s your designated trophy boyfriend, after all. Gotta look and act the part, doesn’t he. Swipe his hair back while he licks you, put up mirrors for sexy time, doll himself up beforehand with soft and pretty clothes, even a few necklaces. No mediocre. Xiaojun is like Narcissus between your legs, but really, he’s just conscious of how he comes across: And who can blame him. That’s not a boyfriend. That’s a masterpiece. Xiaojun doesn’t need beauty standards, they need him! Few people can handle his awesomeness. Knowing you want his body, his fucking soul, he is all the more eager to satisfy your heated desires with no regard to form: Come as you are. Your PJs, work or uni clothes, naked, near-naked, whatever. He’s the one to look at. Xiaojun puts great emphasis in slow-paced presentation that matches some tender music in the background. It could go on for hours if you wanted. Dejun could do the juiciest and unusual things while a ballad is playing in the background, but you’re into it. Because it’s not torturously done, but well aware that you think he’s stunningly handsome, so he’ll indulge you. Looks good in any position, as one would expect. Enjoys it if you sit on him lots because he likes to be below, this overpowering angle. The same idea applies here: Torturously slow is the key. You’re a strict and controlled domme, that suits him the very best.

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⇢ JOHNNY 쟈니 - Sassy, sassy boy. Talks a lot at the beginning, 100k words friends to lovers. Is this Youtube? Johnny needs to know exactly what you want and how he can achieve it. Fair enough, he wants the juicy intel, all of your boundaries and soft limits, your ideas, your sweet spots, your no-gos and best ways to make you comfortable. And hey, that’s a smart and normal thing to do: He just does it all at once, like an essay. Wow. You can tell he thought about everything and wondered about everything. A caring boyfriend, if you think of it. The whole shebang is kind of cute. Johnny has no business being ignorant; nor does he like to disappoint his girlfriend. He already caught your attention with his tight shirt, in fact, he distracted you while you were going through your phone, so now he, um, takes responsibility for his banging body being so hot. „Do you want any snacks before, something to drink? Probably some water, right. Wait a minute, I’ll get it for you. Do you want warm water or cold water? Okay, cold, right. With a slice of lemon or without? Should we turn on the TV or some music? Which blanket do you prefer today, the lighter one or the heavy-duty?“

On it goes, it’s the service sub in him. This is like fucking Hotel Johnny Seo. He wants to be like a personal butler to you, except that said butler has some impressive dancer glutes and no suit on. Johnny really does leave nothing to chance and you appreciate it: Circumspect, as ever, and it’s important to be comfy before getting down to business. Johnny knows it always makes a difference when you’re warm and hydrated, so he keeps on asking questions to make sure it’s all set. But once he is engrossed, lips on your labia… the opposite is true. Why does he stop talking out of literal nowhere, what on earth is going on. Johnny’s dead silent, focused, in a different mindset. Unrecognizable. He barely even moves his body, even if there’s a lot to move indeed. God, is he fucking tall — a bit difficult to drape and position himself on the sheets, but he’ll manage. Kind of folding himself in half will do the trick. You already blew his literal back out with your strap the day before, so his spine’s like jelly anyway: Bending, not a problem. Once he kneels properly, it’s all tunnel vision. Although to be fair, he moans every now and then — which is very stimulating, to say the very least. Puts his spectacular lips to good use and, if he’s honest, wants to be „nothing but a sex toy“ (his words, verbatim!) that you can bend around to your delights. You were kind of confused by what he meant, so Johnny explained it. The point is that you can adjust him however you like and he’s there to give you a good time.

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⇢ ten 텐 - Red alert, the final boss is here. Let's make tonight your birthday. Ten’s piping hot sexual style puts any existing man, no matter how experienced, to a literal devastating shame. Because he has what? The flavor. It’s exceedingly difficult to put his energy into fitting words. Similar to Yuta, he flaunts some seriously rapid flicking tongue movements, but knows when to slow it down for a minute: Nuance! It’s exactly what does the trick. Despite his quick and accurate manner, he won’t overstimulate or overtake you. Overtaking in a sense of, being faster than the pleasure can arrive, which is a mistake he knows is frequently committed. Ten knows that going too hard doesn’t feel good, so he refrains from going on for a second round right away especially. „Fifteen minutes rest is due,“ is what he’ll say, laying down face to face on his side with you. Presenting his cute puffy lips, and also for a chance to look him in the eyes properly. Those cat eyes. They’re magnetic. After enough tension builds and you’re impatient, Ten dives off between your thighs again. Patience (with stamina) is a virtue and he has it. Paired with the most graphic dirty talk you’ve ever heard, Ten is fully in his element, hands in the right places, hair falling the right way, lips promptly sucking you up. If you know his Instagram, you know which bedroom eyes will await you. On the majority of days, Ten is the type who will crawl up to you from the edge of the bed like a feline. You don’t know what’s first to touch. Grab his ass? Cup his face? Pinch his waist? Fuck it, just do everything at once.

Not a fan of 69, he’ll dedicate himself fully to you. Twisting himself around is his job on stage, but he’s remarkably still once chest down in bed. Or the edge of the bathtub, whatever you fancy. Few angles are too awkward for ten. Talk about bathroom sex: He’s probably the only person on earth who mastered giving head in the shower. Even without a mat or towel under his knees, which is crazy. He stays stable as if by sheer magic, the floor being painfully hard and slippery doesn’t bother him, though you insist he use at least a small towel to kneel on when it’s not spontaneous oral. Ten is only focused on his task, nothing else fazes him. He trusts you with the temperature control, and if he’s getting waterboarded from above with the shower on? Then he’s getting waterboarded. Ten won’t care. He’s the goat, he knows he can breathe somehow, and he doesn’t want you getting cold — „just turn the valve, honey“. You often take precautions and turn on the bathroom heating way before, but Ten insists on his ways and can clearly see your goosebumps. Your right leg over your shoulder, your boyfriend eats you out from below with the water stream trailing right over his face. The divine baptism! You can squeeze, grind, and fuck his face stupid in the most erratic thrusts on the bathroom carpet ten minutes later for a solid round two. He wants to be completely at your mercy, laying there on his back, dripping wet long dark hair, getting you off hands-free. This guy lets you do anything. Any-fucking-thing. Ten is a legend.

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// FINAL NOTE. leave some feedback if you liked it 🍒 and for more content like this, browse my rec blog’s specifically dedicated sub!nct tag. have fun! 🙌

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similar posts: multi version /// bts version /// exo version

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shygirl4991 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 1 Unexpected Meeting

All art belongs to @b-r-i-n-g-x no reposting art! Idea from @itsajjanea Note: im still on break but with how stressful life is i decided to work only on this fic so keep stress levels down! (gotta get the angst out somehow lol)

Next Chapter

Summary: SMG4 world gets shaken when he learns that SMG3 is dating someone, with this news SMG4 starts to learn what these new strange emotions he is feeling are. With a love rival now appearing in the showgrounds can Four win Three heart or will he lose the battle to a mysterious new person? Tags: Angst, Romance, Action Adventure, jealously, love confessions, SMG4 discovers he is bi, fluff

SMG3 slaps on his cap excited for the day, he got news from Gary that a rare type of powder was on sale. Exactly what he needed to make a new type of bomb for his cafe, he gives Eggdog a kiss before snapping his fingers for the darkweb. The best part of him learning his meme powers is free travel to the dark web, he walks out humming excitedly to grab the powder when someone bumped into him. He fixes his hat and glares at the person that bumped into him, his eyes then go wide seeing a tall male blinking at him “Oh shit sorry, i didn't see you there!” He watches the person move their blonde hair from their face.

They flash him a charming smile before offering their hand “Names Aster, and you are?” SMG3 checks out the person in front of him, he notices the orange plaid shirt with a pin of the nonbinary flag by the collar of the shirt. He rolls his eyes walking away “Watch where you're walking next time, i have something important to get!” Aster chuckles following “Oh yeah? So important, I can't have your name?” Three rolls his eyes “How about you earn it then we'll talk,” He turns, making sure to walk far away from Aster in order to get his prize.

Aster hums as they watch SMG3 walk away, he looks around and sees the shopping center with the live auction. He smirks running over to the crowd, he has been saving money for the day the legendary star powder would be up to purchase. He was confident no one could outbid him after all Three made sure not to spend his cafe and twitch money on things that weren't needed. He walks into the crowd excitedly watching each item go up for sale then taken by the highest bidder, he chuckles watching the losers cry at the fact they lost their prize. That’s when the last item went up “For our last item, Star powder! It's extremely rare that someone is able to crush a star into an explosive material! After all, Stars can be unpredictable and now it can be yours!! ”

SMG3 smiles brightly holding his sign tightly ready to begin betting, once it starts he lifts his sign “I'M STARTING BIG BABY!” He bets five hundred to scare off the other bidders. He smirks when he sees the crowd slowly leaving only for his eyes to lock with purple ones “Aster?!” They chuckle, lifting their own sign “Cute numbers purple, but I can beat that.” SMG3 glared at the man as he picked up his sign raising the price. They go at this for a while before Three notices he has started to run out of gold, he breaks into a sweat as he watches Aster walking closer to him not breaking eye contact as they hold their sign “What's wrong purple, running a little low?”

He watches as Aster lifts the sign, Three felt everything freeze as he realizes he lost. He looks at the bid and the countdown in shock, everything he worked for was for nothing as the timer hit zero making Aster the owner of the powder. They take the powder and smile at Three only to get a glare in return, they sigh showing him the bag “You know i find you cute, you seem to really want this powder for some reason so lets make a deal!” Three takes a step back, suspicious of the person in front of him. They chuckle as they take out a slip of paper “My phone number, all i ask is a date with the cute mystery guy i met here. That's all I ask, one date and I give you the powder, think on it will ya?”

Three stares at the number surprised, he takes it and looks up seeing Aster give him a flirtatious wink. SMG3 felt himself blushing as he held the slip of paper tight watching the mysterious person walk away from him. He looked at the paper and to his surprise there really was a number written on it, this had to be some kind of dream. He snaps his fingers returning to the showgrounds confused about the events that happen, some person came out of nowhere hit on him and gave him their number. How long had it been that anyone showed interest in him, he thought back on all the people he dated. He frowns remembering how they all ended with them meeting SMG4 and leaving him to try and win over the other man's heart.

He takes a deep breath holding back his anger from those people that lied to his face, telling him they loved him only to leave him the moment a better model walks along. He looked at SMG4 picture and felt his heart flutter “Stupid, this whole thing is stupid!” He deletes the photo from his phone and sighs, why was he putting himself through this?

He looked at the slip of paper and slowly entered the number, he was sure that it was some pizza place. As he waits he walks over to the counter to start brewing coffee for the day, he jumps when he hears a familiar voice on the other line “Hello?” panicked, he hangs up in shock. They really did give him their number, the phone rings and in a panic threw it across the cafe breathing heavily. The phone keeps ringing until he hears a beep letting him know the song has ended, slowly he walks to his phone and picks it up to see a text “Hello, i got a call from this number who is this?”

He stood there staring at his phone before putting it away, he had to think over this deal. He grabs his cup of coffee lost in thought about Aster, He didn't notice Four walk in with Mario. Four smiles as he taps the counter “My usual if you don't mind Three?” he frowns seeing the man not moving as he looks into his coffee, he exchanges looks with Mario “HEY SMG3!” he waves his arms still not getting the man's attention. Mario starts to scream next “S M G 3!”

Still seeing the man was lost in thought Four was getting worried he walks up to three and gently touches him. The touch broke him out of his thoughts, startled from the contact he tosses the coffee. Three frowns at his coffee now being on the floor “What the hell SMG4!?” surprised by the anger Four glares at him “I didn't do anything you were spaced out i just wanted my coffee!” Three groans handing Four a mop “Fine, clean the mess you made while I get you the drink!”

SMG4 was about to argue why he had to clean the mess when an alert from Three’s phone gets his attention, he turns to see an unknown number text SMG3. He then notices Three tense up at the sound before grabbing the phone and shoving it in his pocket, Four starts to clean up the mess watching Three. “Hey is everything okay?” SMG3 nods, finishing up the coffee and shoving it at Four “Everything is fine, i don't know why you would even care.” SMG4 grabs his coffee and walks over to Mario who swallowed a painted dynamite that Three gave him to shut him up, Four sighs then smiles softly at him causing those flutters to return “you just seemed out of it so i was worried…if you need help you can come to us after all we are friends now!”

The word friend should make him happy to hear, instead he felt pain “Yeah yeah whatever you done or you want to talk my ear off?” SMG4 shakes his head as he pays for his drink and leaves with Mario behind him demanding more spaghetti. SMG3 takes out his phone and calls the number “It's purple, i will take the deal.”

Moments later SMG3 was waiting outside the restaurant nervously, he had to remind himself that he only accepted at that moment because he really wanted to make bombs and not because of how SMG4 made him feel. Aster smiles brightly at Three “Hey you really did show up!” They take out a bag from their pocket and hand it to SMG3. Confused he takes the bag and looks inside, it was the powder. He looks up confused as his date gives him a smug look “I'm a person of my word, i find you cute and want to know you more nothing wrong with that right?”

SMG3 blushes as he puts the bag under his hat “uh no nothing wrong with that…its SMG3 by the way.” Aster purple eyes flashes as he gets the man's name. Three started to feel strange before he noticed Aster offering their hand “Shall we? The food here is to die for!” They chatted during the dinner getting to know each other, it was strange for Three the more they talked the more he felt drawn to Aster. As the date ended Aster offered to walk him back to the cafe, they held hands as they kept talking “Yeah i am pretty good at building things, back when i was all about killing my neighbor i built all kinds of weapons to kill him.” Aster hums as they listen to Three taking notes on every word said.

Why was he even telling this person all this, his mind was a mess at the moment, sure Aster was attractive but did Three truly want more with this person? They arrive at the cafe, he knew he had to say goodbye to Aster and end the night, that's when he felt his stomach flip. He didn't want to say goodbye, he turns to ask if Aster wanted to stay but freezes when he notices how close they were. The words wouldn't come out as he watches them take his hand and kiss it causing his heart to speed up and his face go red. “I had a lovely time, you have my number hope we can do this again cutie~”

SMG3 was at a loss of words as Aster walked away, slowly touching his face trying to relax. What was going on with him? it was almost as if he was falling for Aster, he shakes his head laughing at the thought as he walks into the cafe. He takes out his phone looking at Aster's number, slowly he shoots them a text before getting the cafe ready for the next day. Aster chuckles seeing the text “I told you I had this in the bag,” they turn towards a black star “Soon Aster revenge will be ours!” the star laughs as Aster replies to the message “Soon your end will arrive SMG3.” Aster's eyes glow as he puts his phone away.

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #b-r-i-n-g-x

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annmarcus63 · 8 months

Text

I've always love the idea of game Geralt x series Jaskier.

Here's an idea. While training, Ciri's powers went out of control sending Game!Geralt to the Series!The witcher universe. Game Geralt meets Jaskier and Geralt. The pair agree to help him get to Kaer Morhen, since when Ciri comes looking for him, she would look there first. Here's a soulmate story, a thread with two ends. Geralt doesn't want him, but someone else might.

"Are there ....soulmates...in your world?" They are sitting in front of a small bonfire where a boar leg is getting cooked. The sunset shimmer has blue and purple shades that rain on them. The Geralt from another universe (Jaskier calls him BeardGeralt and BeardGeralt likes it cause it sounds like bear, like a...pet name) tilts his head towards him, showing he has his entire attention.

"I don’t think so."

“Oh” BeardGeralt smiles, his handsome face lighting with barely concealed fondness that shows every time they talk in private. His Geralt, the real Geralt, is currently brushing off Roach trying to appear as if he's not listening to their conversation. "Disappointed, are you?" Jaskier snorts.

"No really. Actually I'm relieved my counterpart doesn't have one, it wouldn't be fair, to me I mean."

"Then you'll be glad to know he's goddamn miserable. Couldn't catch a single fly." Jaskier's face lights up like a child on their name day. "Egotistical and malicious. You share those with Dandelion" adds BeardGeralt without a trace of judgment or anger, only amusement.

"But more handsome" says Jaskier with a wink, BeardGeralt gives him an appreciative look, a slight smile hidden under his beard. Jaskier has been feeling this tension between them. Not entirely sexual per se but more, something mysterious that's calling them. He has always flirt with his Geralt but he has never responded, has never been interested, but It's not the same with BeardGeralt and it feels nice, to be wanted for once, for more than a quick fuck. He must also admit that it is nice to hold the interest of one Geralt, even if it's not his, his soulmate. It shows him in a way that destiny wasn't wrong with them, that Jaskier could have been wanted by his soulmate, at least in another universe. That they could have been happy together.

"He's happy. He's with Priscilla" BeardGeralt says calmly, looking at the fire briefly. Jaskier tries to remember if he has known a Priscilla, he hasn't.

“Bastard” Jaskier throws his arms in the air in melodramatic surrender. He's not upset, not really, he's glad his duplicate from this other universe in which soulmates don’t exist is happy, but that doesn't make him any less of a lucky bastard. After all his biggest competition has always been himself, this Dandelion is him, so, yeah it feels like a competition. One that Jaskier is losing.

Jaskier is so immersed in his own reasoning that he gets caught up when BeardGeralt asks in a cautious voice "Where's yours?"

"My what?"

“Soulmate” And that's the thing, isn't it? He has a soulmate and a mark on his forearm to prove it and that soulmate is, in fact, a few meters from them tending to his horse.

There must be something in his expression, a dull compliance that has woven, somehow, on his heart (and people says the eyes are the windows of the heart), because the other Geralt dawns on the fact that Geralt from this world is Jaskier's soulmate.

And suddenly his Geralt is there, in front of them whelling the leg above the fire "It's burning" he growls looking up and meeting BeardGeralt’s eyes. Cat-like eyes, they both have beautiful eyes, they're the same and so unique at the same time, apart from each other. His Geralt is younger, he has a soul of one who still hasn't found how to live with pain and self-hatred. BeardGeralt is older, the kind of good wine older, he has a soul of one who has learned to live with all of it, he’s wiser and is full of quiet regret.

The witchers are speaking with their eyes, two predators speaking the same language. They stop the staring contest after a few seconds. The other Geralt doesn't ask again and Jaskier is relieved. Later, when the moon is glowing in the sky and they're trying to sleep, Jaskier thinks of how warm BeardGeralt feels next to him, it's cold so they're sleeping close to each other and wonders what it would be to be loved by him.

I'm posting this here again with small changes

If you want to read more let me know

love u

#the witcher #geraskier #the witcher 3 #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #geralt x jaskier #What if BeardGeralt has a dandelion on his body #BeradGeralt thinks Jaskier is so extravagant and flamboyant and ridiculous and #chilsdish and generous and caring and beautiful and perfect and oh my gad is he in love?#SeriesGeralt is jealous as fuck #Jaskier deserves love

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karniss-bg3 · 7 months

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Ya bring up a point I’m sure not all monster lovers consider—- turning Kar’niss back being a goal of his would mean sacrificing my love for the freaky and remembering he’s just a guy with needs too. I imagine if there was a WISH spell, given their open-ended nature to do Anything with reality, you’d probably get access to one with only a few options of what to use it for in a limited game context. Probably it’d give you the offer to fix your other companions, or your own lingering plot issues—- could we see some Kar’niss reaction to Tav, after mulling it over (alone or among companions), truly deciding to use the WISH for him and/or let him use it (one of those ‘trust your companion will do the right thing’ moments). Bet they find the spell after robbing Lorroakan or somethin. (Though it’s a Wish Spell—- imagine a man so short sighted as to just wish to be without pain but not change so he can still ‘be of use’. Hopefully he’d have learned better about his worthiness by the time you found a WISH though).

Title: A Wish Come True

Word Count: 3,667

Spoiler Warning: Spoilers for Act 2 and Act 3

Characters: Gale, Astarion, gender-neutral Tav and Kar'niss

Summary: After a hard battle in the sorcerer's tower, Gale uncovers a hidden Wish spell scroll. Kar'niss is now faced with a tough decision; Use the rare scroll to break the drider's curse or remain as he is forever more?

***

It had been a hard fought battle in the sorcerer's tower but the group came out victorious. Lorroakan had been bested and his lifeless body had settled in the middle of the floor. Astarion was the first to root around the wizard’s quarters with Gale not far behind, both searching for powerful items and weapons they could pilfer for their journey. Gale’s sharp eye spotted a peculiar rosewood box in a corner with intricate swirls carved into the lid. He leaned in for a closer look and sensed that the chest was locked tight. Astarion also picked up on the notion and casually nudged Gale aside with his shoulder.

“Allow me,” Astarion said, chuffed.

Gale held up his hands and gave Astarion the chance to unlock the mysterious vessel. Retrieving his trusty lock picking tools he went to work. As he began to fiddle with it a magical aura pulsed from the box and a blast of magical fire surged from the base and onto the fumbling thief. Astarion’s clothes caught alight and made the vampire lurch from surprise and pain. He spun in circles, frantically slapping at the blaze that threatened to consume his clothes whole.

“AH! Hot, hot, HOT!” Astarion screeched.

Gale stood by, his blank expression mirroring his annoyance. He’d flick two fingers aside, a blue aura shrouding them before a downpour of water crashed over the ignited fop. This doused the fire as well as Astarion who now stood there, soaked but free from danger.

“Now, what have we learned, Astarion?” Gale asked.

The vampire’s upper lip rose, exposing his fangs, shooting the wizard a miffed glare.

“That’s right. When exploring a tower of sorcery, maaaybe let the seasoned wizard do the poking, hm?” Gale said, gesturing to himself.

Astarion rolled his eyes, his hands hurriedly squeezing out his hair before flinging his arms side to side to rid them of excess moisture.

“Fine. I doubt there is aught of interest in that chest anyway. Likely moth eaten robes and naughty paintings. Have at it, oh ‘mighty’ wizard.” Astarion gave a disingenuous bow in Gale’s direction, abandoning the chest in an effort to fix his drenched appearance.

Gale wasn’t put off by Astarion’s complaining, rather accustomed to it by this stage in their journey. Instead he put his focus on examining the chest with a more nuanced look. His keen arcane senses were able to detect the sheen of an enchantment that shimmered over the item as a whole. He outstretched his hands toward it, palms hovering inches above the lid, putting his full concentration in breaking the troublesome spell. His eyes took on a purple hue, his robes kicking out at his ankles crackling with magical energy. He called out a single word, willing the weave to do his bidding, assaulting the enchantment in an effort to break it. His determination paid off. The energy pushed from his palms covered the box and the shimmer that once dominated it’s surface shattered like fiberglass removing the danger.

“Ah, there we are.” Gale swung open the lid to peer inside curiously.

The coffer, at first, didn’t seem to contain anything of note just like Astarion predicted. A pile of old robes of various hues sat in a neatly folded pile. Gale picked them up to look them over and while they were of a fine make, they didn’t seem to have any significance beyond that. He frowned with the discovery, continuing to dig in hopes he’d discover more.

“Ah-ha! Utter trash, certainly not worth getting burned over,” Astarion said while wringing out his shirt.

“Mm no, there must be more. A sorcerer wouldn’t go through so much effort to protect worthless robes,” Gale replied.

This prompted Astarion to come closer to investigate once more. Gale cleared out everything leaving an empty chest. The vampire smirked as he leaned over, a knowing gleam twinkling in the corner of his eye.

“Oh darling, it seems we’ve been done in by a red herring. Cazador had many items of value, ones he’d not leave wittingly out in the open.” Astarion reached into the box and ran his smooth fingertips along the wooden walls of the container. He did so until he felt a discrepancy in the wood grain; An indent. “There you are.” He’d press the hidden button, a quiet double click of mechanisms heard within its walls. Both men watched while the false bottom of the box slid open revealing the true treasure beneath.

Astarion’s lips curled in a self-satisfied grin, leaning in closer to Gale to make cocky eye contact with him. “I suppose a rogue isn’t as useless in a tower of sorcery as you thought, HM?”

Gale side eyed his proud companion, palming the side of his face to gently push him away. “You’ve made your point, good work.”

Inside was a pouch of gold coin, a bizarre wooden wand painted red and gold with floral accents and a short stack of scrolls. Gale filtered through the items with some fascination, going through each scroll with fierce scrutiny. His snooping came to a halt when he read over one scroll in particular, his eyes increasing in size as the shock took hold. Astarion was in the process of dumping water from his boots when he noticed Gale’s frozen demeanor.

“What is it, what did you find?”

Gale didn’t answer his curious companion, instead whirling around to call down to the floor below. “TAV! You need to see this!”

All this time Tav was situated on the lower floor with Kar’niss who had sustained injuries during the battle. The drider had lowered himself to the ground so Tav had ease of access to his wounds. They were bandaging a cut on his arm when they heard Gale shouting from above. Tav’s brow crinkled in confusion and Kar’niss followed suit, both exchanging a glance. Before Tav could rush to Gale’s side the wizard was already climbing down the ladder with some urgency. Astarion followed behind, half dressed and damp but equally as curious as to his discovery.

“What’s going on?” Tav asked.

Gale handed over the scroll to them. “Here.”

They took the parchment and scanned over the text inscribed upon it, a creeping realization hitting them the further they read along. Their eyes darted to Gale, then to Kar’niss and back to the scroll, their fingers beginning to tremble.

“A wish spell,” they whispered.

This revelation sucked the air out of the room. Astarion’s jaw dropped with amazement while Kar’niss’ breath hitched in his throat. A silence fell over the massive study, each companion eyeing off the other, uncertainty and excitement palpable in their immediate vicinity.

Gale broke the silence first. “What do we do?

Tav pressed their lips into a thin line, soon turning to Kar’niss. “This is it, what we’ve been searching for. You can return to your true form, Kar’niss. Your suffering could come to an end, right here, right now.”

Kar’niss rose from his crouched position, his hand rubbing over his arm in a self-soothing gesture. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat while legs shuffled beneath him in an anxious dance.

“But...this spell, it’s incredibly rare and powerful, is it not? Why waste it on me? So much could be done with this power. If I suffer it is due to my own folly,” Kar’niss said.

Astarion bolted forward as if angered by the statement, his crimson eyes glaring up at the drider. “Have you learned nothing after traveling with us? I know it’s a difficult lesson to learn, it took me far too long as it was. But what happened to you is not your doing. You were a victim, same as I. Take the scroll and reclaim your life.”

Kar’niss shrunk when he was chided so, unable to maintain his gaze on Astarion for too long. His nervous energy didn’t seem to wane, undecided and skeptical of his own worth.

“It’s true, this spell is not easy to come by. We can only use it once. With that said, I know first hand what it is like to be toyed with by the divine. Yours is a particularly cruel case, Kar’niss. As far as we know this is the only way to undo what has been done. I think we can all agree that despite our myriad of problems, this is your best chance at freedom,” Gale said. “We have alternatives to tackle our afflictions, you do not.”

Tav looked between Gale and Astarion, mulling over their words and watching Kar’niss shuffle about nearby. They took time to think and finally made their approach. They stepped toward Kar’niss, lifting an arm to gently rest their palm at the center of his chest.

“This isn’t a choice for any of us to make. You know better than anyone what is in your better interest and I trust in your judgment. If you need time to think it through then take it, you don’t have to decide this very moment.” Tav took a step closer, a warm smile on their face. “What is important is that you make the choice, that it is of your free will. Know that we will support you no matter the road you take. You are not a waste, Kar’niss, not by a long shot.”

Kar’niss listened to what everyone had to say, observing all present with some trepidation. He glanced down at Tav, resting his clawed hand atop of the one pressed to his chest. Without a word he stepped away from the group needing a moment to think by himself.

The others afforded Kar’niss his much needed space, retreating to another part of the tower to continue their search for other useful items. He was still in shock, scarcely believing that they had found such a rare item, something that could change his life moving forward. He came to a stop near a large standing mirror propped on a nearby wall. The drider turned to face the reflective surface, seeing his own image projected right back at him. He jolted from the surprise of it, as if it was the first time he truly saw himself since his change. His legs carried him closer, crouching down to get a better look.

His torso was bloodied from the recent battle, bandages placed over his arms where he’d suffered ice damage. Those details were the easiest to ignore, instead focusing on how twisted his once beautiful visage had become. His fingers reached to feather across the many eyes scattered across his forehead, trailing down to the scarred gash across his lip, finally reaching the hardened chitin sealed along his jawline. His gnarled hand reached out to caress the surface of the mirror as if trying to console the reflection within, his gaze meeting the pair staring back at him. His eyes tread lower, spotting the spider body his torso was haphazardly melded to, his pedipalps trembling beneath his belly button. He snarled and jerked his head away from the mirror, the biting sting of tears starting to collect at the corners of his eyes.

Was he worthy of salvation? He thought back to all of the atrocities he had committed both under Lolth and the Absolute, complacent in the part he played, a willing puppet for their unspeakable crimes. Astarion’s words rang in his mind, the notion that he was a victim rather than a fervent contributor. Should he be punished forever for actions of his past, or could he move beyond it and become the person he was meant to be? Gale’s statements came to mind next, the idea that he had been toyed with by those he worshiped, that he had the opportunity for freedom. What did that mean for someone like him? He could never return to the Underdark, not as a drider or a drow. That home was forever lost to him. Did the surface offer him something more, something greater? Or would he know the same abuse just with different faces?

Tav’s statement crashed through the walls of self doubt and hesitation. This was...his choice? Could he trust himself to make it? He realized he knew one thing for certain, he wanted to stay with Tav at any cost. He didn’t wish to be a burden on them, forever doomed to defend a drider from the gawking and cruel masses who didn’t understand him. Their life together would never know peace so long as Tav had to play protector. There were many other things they couldn’t do as he was now, things he’d long since thought about but was too afraid to voice. He wanted to know love, to know happiness, two things that were always short of his grasp, just out of reach.

Kar’niss turned to look back at the mirror but with more determination in his expression. He examined himself once more, for the final time, his head lifting as if in defiance of what Lolth had made him. He’d give the mirror a shove, pushing it over and letting it shatter on the floor below.

“Never again.”

During this time the group had pilfered much of the area. Gale had taken to reading the many texts stored on the bookshelves while Astarion hung his clothes on the balcony to dry, parading around in his underwear with no shame. Tav rolled their eyes at the display.

“There are many robes scattered about you could wear in the meantime,” Tav grumbled.

“Yes but they’re old, and ugly. Besides I look stunning au naturel. Really, you should be thanking me for providing your eyes with such a feast.” Astarion swished his arm in an effeminate arc.

Tav groaned and slumped deeper in the chair they had sat upon. “I’m going to regurgitate that feast onto Lorroakan’s carpet if you don’t stop.”

Their prattling was interrupted when they heard the clicking steps of the driders return. Gale closed his book and Tav stood up, Astarion joining the pair to look upon Kar’niss, the air of expectation heavy around them.

“Have you made a choice?” Tav asked.

Kar’niss rubbed his hands together nervously, looking between the three so as to work up the courage to make such an announcement.

“I thought about what you’ve said, all of you. While I still...struggle to believe I am worthy of this gift, I don’t want to spend the remainder of my life in hiding. You found me at the worst point in my life. You could’ve killed me without a second thought, you spared me instead. You showed endless kindness and patience while I struggled to contend with my own mind, feelings I thought to be genuine. I can’t return to the Underdark and Lolth’s shadow will forever follow me. At least with this spell I have the chance to live on the surface with a modicum of peace. I—“ He trailed off, his expression twisted while he searched for the right words. “I want to be happy. I don’t know what that really means for someone like me but I’m willing to find out.” He’d take in a shaken breath. “Use it.”

All three spared a glance to one another, seeming pleased with his conclusion. Tav stepped forward to hold the scroll out to Kar’niss but the drider raised both hands in refusal.

“I think since Gale found the scroll, he should do the honors. That and I am worried I’ll word it wrong and botch the entire thing. I don’t want to make my condition worse,” Kar’niss said.

Gale chuckled and took the scroll from Tav. “A fair concern, I will be diligent with my phrasing. Are you ready?”

Kar’niss inhaled a deep chest full of air, his legs dancing shuffling beneath him once more. “I think so, yes.”

Tav wandered over, issuing a comforting squeeze to his hip. “Everything will be fine. We’re right here.” They’d then back away to give distance for the spell to work its magic.

Astarion and Tav kept their distance, the vampire taking Tav’s hand into his own to give it a reassuring squeeze. Despite all his fanfare he realized the importance of this moment for all involved. Gale stepped forward keeping a gap between himself and the anxious drider, holding up the scroll to focus on arcane concentration.

“I wish for the drider known as Kar’niss to be restored to his true form, complete and whole as the drow he was before Lolth’s cruel curse kissed his essence. Memories hale and intact, body rich and vibrant, freed of the evil rendered upon him against his will.”

As soon as the last word left Gale’s lips the scroll in his hands crumbled to dust, their particles glittering in the air. They floated over to Kar’niss and began to dance in a shimmering ring around him. Kar’niss looked around with an urgent jerk of his head, lifting his arms due to a tinge of fear striking his core. The particles grew in size and number until they formed a continuous beam of golden light, expanding to form a dome of radiance that concealed the drider in full. Gale, Astarion and Tav stood by, their eyes wide and breath baited. They couldn’t look away even as the light increased in intensity, unable to see what was happening within. Loose papers in the tower went flying, carried away by the breeze radiating from the churning sphere in the center of the room. All of them could feel the force of this magic and it’s near infinite power, crackling and buzzing with arcane energy of a grand magnitude. The swirling golden light started to shrink in on itself, a notion that made Tav step forward with concern. Was Kar’niss alright, what was happening to him?

Soon the sphere shrunk to half the size it had been prior to its conjuring, the shell cracking down the center and breaking away, portions of the dome flaking away and disintegrating from sight. Once the shell had all but faded away the only thing that was left behind was the glowing silhouette of a man on the floor, doubled over on his hands and knees. The aura steadily peeled away revealing the changed individual beneath. A doubled over drow male was left behind, his form naked and vulnerable. The trio nearby watched in stunned silence, waiting for a sign that the spell had truly done as advertised.

A soft groan rumbled from the man on the floor, his hands pushing himself up into a seated position. He was dazed but alive and healthy by all appearances. Shoulder length white hair curtained around his pale face, now cleansed of the eyes which had once dotted his brow. The hard carapace that once molded over his arms, chest and jawline were no where to be seen, leaving behind smooth flesh and darkened nipples. Most notable were the presence of legs, two instead of eight, thighs muscular and firm. Kar’niss held up his hands which had begun to shake, looking them over in awe. His fingers were smooth rather than jagged and rough, able to bend his fingers with more flexibility than he had prior. He ran his palms across his face, particularly his forehead, noting the absence of the additional orbs he once carried. Finally, he glanced down to see his legs and genitals, all as they had been once upon a time. A choked gasp surged from his throat as the reality of it all began to set in. He was back to himself.

Tav rushed into action once they assessed the situation. They ran over and grabbed a loose blanket draped over a nearby chair, darting to Kar’niss’ side. They dropped to their knees in front of him, draping the garment over his shoulders to stave off the incoming chill.

“Kar’niss, are you alright? How do you feel?” Tav asked.

The drow didn’t know what to say at first, still patting over his torso and thighs in an effort to make sure this wasn’t a dream. He shook his head, mouth hanging agape, a swell of something building in his chest that he hadn’t felt in an age; Joy. His trembling lips pulled into an emotional smile, throwing his arms out to wrap them around Tav. Pulled into the vice grip of a hug Tav promptly laughed from surprise and relief, their arms threading around his torso to return the gesture enthusiastically.

“Th-Thank you...thank you…” Kar’niss whimpered, his face buried in Tav’s neck.

Tav bit their lower lip while stroking the back of his hair, leaning more into the embrace.

“You did most of the work, Kar’niss. This is your victory as much as it is ours. I’m proud of you.”

He bit back a sob from such a heartfelt statement, fingers curled into the small of Tav’s back. He leaned away enough to make eye contact with them, his body radiating overwhelming emotion. He cupped Tav’s face and brought them in for a kiss, one that he put every ounce of his body and soul into. Tav returned the affection with equal vigor, clinging to the man they adored so.

As the pair embraced Gale and Astarion stood by, looking on with their own sense of pride and joy at the outcome. Gale glanced Astarion’s way.

“You really couldn’t have put on some clothes for this monumental, once in a lifetime moment?” Gale grunted.

Astarion scoffed and waved a hand about dismissively. “Darling, they’re not paying one speck of attention to me. For once, that’s a good thing, mw-ha! Besides, my near nudity will likely help Kar’niss feel less self conscious about his own.”

Gale chuckled and propped his arm on Astarion’s shoulder, leaning into him while looking Tav and Kar’niss’ way.

“True enough, Astarion. True enough.”

Tav and Kar’niss continued to hold and kiss one another, filled with relief and hope for what future lay ahead. This was the beginning of a new journey for the pair, one that they were ready to face together.

To the very end.

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tobiasdrake · 8 months

Text

Every time I hear people try and explain the "right" and "wrong" ways to write an OC, I always think about Trunks.

If you aren't familiar with Dragon Ball, let me explain this absolute "trainwreck of an OC" to you.

So, Frieza's this impossibly powerful bad guy. He's over a thousand times more powerful than everyone else in the cast and it's only possible to defeat him because Son Goku, halfway through the fight, fulfills an ancient alien prophecy and becomes a legendary once-in-a-thousand-years godlike avatar of his people.

At the very end, thanks to this miracle taking place, Goku defeats Frieza and disappears.

The next arc begins with Frieza showing up, having been resurrected as a cyborg offscreen. Goku hasn't returned. Thankfully, this mysterious boy Trunks arrives. A Saiyan character with purple hair even though all Saiyans have black hair, no exceptions. Also, he has a sword. Nobody in Dragon Ball uses weapons but he has a sword because fuck you, that's why.

Trunks reveals that he has also fulfilled the alien prophecy. He's the other person, never before mentioned, who possesses the once-in-a-thousand-years godlike avatar of his people powers. He instantly shitstomps Frieza without breaking a sweat. Like, it's barely even a fight. He takes Frieza apart comically fast.

Then Goku shows up to give him a pat on the back, whereupon Trunks proudly announces that he's the time-traveling offspring of a ship between two characters who haven't even spoken to each other once in this entire series thus far, one of whom has been in a committed relationship with someone else since the very first arc of the story over a decade ago and the other of whom is a villain.

And. And I cannot emphasize this enough.

This is the single most popular and beloved character in Dragon Ball. People went nuts for this guy. He checks off just about every single box on the "Do Not Write Characters Like This" checklist and everyone loved him for it.

So. Like.

That's something I think about whenever I see people complain about OCs that have weird hair and weird names and are too powerful and inexplicably related to canon characters and stuff like that.

Y'all went nuts for it when it was Akira Toriyama writing it. So maybe those characteristics aren't as bad as popular opinion likes to make it sound.

#writing #dragon ball #future trunks

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afreakingdork · 1 month

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 63

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

EDIT 4/30/24 DUE TO A MORAL DISAGREEMENT THIS CHAPTER ART HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY REMOVED

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: crutches, muscle weakness, talk of abuse, mental breakdown

“So that’s the menu.” Mikey rose up and dusted his hands.

You leaned against a counter getting some time upright and nodded over the messy handwritten note cards Mikey had brought over. Coated in loving use and old ingredients, Mikey had clearly been fine tuning these recipes for years. They felt to you like precious artifacts with their ancient evolving notes. Moving them around affectionately and wondering how many total of these cards there were, you tipped your head towards the turtle. “How are you going to bring all this over?”

“So, we got ingredients purchased and being delivered to an agreed upon location first thing tomorrow.” Mikey paused to give a raised hand to Donnie for his participation.

Donnie, who had been writing some code on his computer, scarcely looked over.

“I’ll take everything down, start placing my mise and then head over here for my regular shift around noon to cook it up.” Mikey fanned out the cards once before sliding them back into a fold. “If I did my math right then everything will be ready for dinner at 6:30pm sharp and our guests will arrive.”

You nodded, thinking over the process.

“I’ll have my assistant in spurts.” Mikey winked at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sworn to rest when I need to. I get it, but I’m not letting you do everything.”

“Everyone has different kitchen dynamics.” Mikey chirped happily. “I love seeing how they all mix and our cooking chemistry though, like 90% of the time, I default to get out of my way!”

You laughed along with him. “I get that.”

“Having someone you can deal with in your space in that kind of heated situation is a big deal.” Mikey wiggled his brow ridge around his pun.

You hummed affectionately and remembered one particular time with Donnie. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah, gotta be a marker of true love.” Mikey picked his cards and was slow to take on a forlorn look. “This is it…”

“Yeah…” You straightened a little yourself.

The family dinner marked the end of the Hamato watch. Though it hadn’t been officially discussed, you knew Mikey had passed on the information about Donnie meditating and Raph had obviously reported Donnie’s first time disengaging his powers. It had been a good sign and just about every person who’d entered the apartment since had seen some form of Donnie’s practice. The little purple particles that would percolate at a certain focused step were unmistakable. Whether Donnie was testing his emotions to manifest them or simply working on their creation, you had yet to know, but since he’d gone weeks without a single mishap, he was deemed safe enough to be left to his own devices.

Leo was just a portal away if anything went wrong.

You dampened more thinking about the blue brother. You guessed this was how it was now. You weren’t going to repair things with Leo and, after tomorrow, you never would have another chance to. You wouldn’t see him again and he would be an emergency contact at most. It stung. You knew it was probably for the best, but leaving whatever your relationship was with him in such disrepair deeply bothered you. You guessed you had others like this, people from your past that you were doomed to only have a negative memory of, but it ached regardless.

“Michelangelo.”

That was Donnie’s voice and you raised your head where your back was to him.

“Yup?”

Leo would be next and then Raph before Mikey returned for his final watch.

“I want to meet with him.”

You almost didn’t want Mikey to leave.

“…”

Maybe you could ask Raph to switch so you could sleep through most of Leo’s shift.

“Well?”

“Why?”

You blinked.

“Obvious.” You turned to find Donnie with narrowed eyes, but little heat as if he found the exchange tenuous.

“If it was, I wouldn’t have asked.” Mikey bit back with a similar lack of heat, but faint irritation.

You didn’t interject, but sent confusion toward your mate who didn’t look.

“I need to… speak with… him.” Donnie swallowed bile.

“About what? Why now?” Mikey folded his arms.

Now on one crutch, you moved from where you were leaning your weight on the counter and hooked it with learned ease to your body to go over to Donnie.

The movement caught his eye and he watched you with his closed off affection.

“If I could discuss the matter with any of you, I would have.” Donnie told you, though he spoke to Mikey.

You heard Mikey unfurl with a huff.

You tilted your head in question.

Donnie’s eyes had little response.

Mikey made an upset sound.

Donnie’s lip moved a centimeter which was the most smile you could get under these circumstances.

“He can come to dinner.”

Donnie’s head flew to Mikey in fury. “A joke!”

“Nope.” Mikey’s brow ridge bobbed, smug. “Not a question either. That’s the only way I’ll pass the message along.”

“This conversation is not for any of you!” Donnie’s lip curled back, but it was obviously out of tender fear as opposed to actual anger.

“I’ll head out when it's time.” Mikey’s shoulders bounced. “Give you space.”

“Not for…” Donnie trailed off and looked at you in a similarly anxious way.

You weren’t meant to listen either.

You frowned.

Donnie’s gaze shot away in a pained way.

“We’ll.” Mikey was quick to add. “Step out.”

You looked to Mikey.

He nodded to you for encouragement.

“You need to talk to Splinter that badly?” You asked quietly.

Donnie flinched at the name and his wounded gaze stayed glued to the floor.

Mikey bent his elbows to the counter and waited.

“Yes.” Donnie spoke as small as he could.

Your chest tightened.

You knew you’d been keeping things from Donnie, but to hear the inkling that he was doing the same felt like a new wound.

It wasn’t on purpose, you wanted to scream.

You were going to unload on him as soon as you were alone.

That meant he probably would too.

The realization sobering, you leaned heavily into your crutch.

One more day.

“Dinner. The whole dinner. You don’t get to kick dad out after just because you feel like it.” Mikey laid down his ground rules.

This time Donnie surfaced slowly and with actual anger. “You expect me to entertain that-” He bit his tongue to keep a derogatory word out of his mouth. “-in my own home?!”

“You’re doing that with us, aren’t you?” Mikey spoke without malice.

The younger turtle even seemed oddly stoic.

He almost looked like Donnie when slipped all of himself under that emotionless mask.

Donnie’s eyes only narrowed.

“It’s either that or you try Leo, which, good fucking luck. Then there’s Raph and we both know how that’s going to go.” Mikey’s head cricked with the slightest tip.

Donnie inhaled slowly.

“You asked me for a reason.” Mikey spoke knowingly.

Donnie juggled something mentally before looking back to Mikey. “I did.”

“My terms or nothing.” Mikey lifted up and out of the conversation.

He walked over to where Leo’s portal would appear.

You saw that, as soon as Mikey’s back was turned, Donnie let a whole litany of emotions pass over his face.

There was outright fury.

You could see how much he wanted to strangle the other turtle.

There was bargaining.

He tried to work out a thousand ways he could get out of this.

There was anxiety.

The chance to speak to Splinter was slipping through his fingers and you could see just how much your boyfriend needed to do this.

You touched Donnie’s arm lightly.

He jarred from his swirling mind and you saw the whirlpool settle at the sight of you.

Another tap was more of a nudge.

You had his back.

You could take the verbal heat off if need be.

You could be Splinter’s chaperone.

Donnie’s expression welled with gratitude before he looked back to where Mikey still had his carapace to you both.

“Done. Do ask-” Donnie’s voice was gravel.

“For him to be on his best behavior?” Mikey cut Donnie off with a turn of his head that just barely showed his face’s silhouette. “I’ll ask him. I’ll do what I can, but he’s my dad.”

Leo’s portal appeared and the blue light reflected off Mikey’s eyes for a malevolent gaze.

“Our dad. The three of us.” Mikey spoke venom. “Don’t you forget.” He stepped through the portal.

The rest of the time until Mikey’s return was done in a preparatory wait. Leo had appeared casual with a levity that said he was ready to get this last shift over with. You imagined that he might even enjoy the dinner since it was a final blemish for him to endure. Skirting away from him to keep the mood light, you had very little to do. You mostly stuck close to Donnie who was trapped with the weight of what was coming.

Your mate stood in various parts of your apartment with nothing to keep his hands busy and eventually you coaxed him out of sight where you lingered in his space. Sneaking behind a partition felt juvenile in your own home, but you signed to each other regardless.

‘Why now?’ You started.

‘Can’t explain like this.’

‘Later? Alone?’

‘Both of us.’

‘I’ve been planning to.’

‘Good. You’ve been avoiding Blue.’

‘Yeah. Long story.’

Donnie made the motion for ‘kill’ and raised his brow with delighted question.

You shook your head and placed both your hands over his.

He brought them up to his lips.

You mouthed, ‘I can’t wait to be alone with you.’

“Me too.” He murmured warmth and came down to press the side of his head to yours.

You lingered like that as long as you could.

You did your best, but the closer it got to Mikey’s and subsequently all the turtle’s final appearance in your home, Donnie’s stress was transferring to you. With each second hand tick of the clock, Donnie got more on edge. You meant to be strong for him. You wanted to show him that this was alright; that even though you didn’t know what big thing he wanted to discuss with Splinter was, you would be unflappable.

The only problem was, you were painfully in tune with your partner and him being upset was then permeating you through your bond.

You hated to see him uncomfortable and, though Raph recognized the dense air in the room, you could tell the older turtle was mislabeling it. All four men hadn’t been in the same room since the hospital discharge. You imagined Raph, rightfully, imagined the entire bale together bothered Donnie, especially in his own home. If there wasn’t some big talk added on top, you were sure that would have upset Donnie too, but you found it hard to believe that would have driven him to his current state.

You guessed Raph might have also thought Donnie was concerned to then be alone with his ninpo.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to the older turtle and now still wasn’t the best time because he was just as distracted as you in watching Donnie move about like a stubborn plant searching for a crack of sunlight. In slow rotations, Donnie swayed, barely perceptible and feeling out his space blindly. He couldn’t do an activity because he was too emotionally confined to the pot, but he was deprived of something vital which had him wriggling with all his remaining strength.

You could hardly breathe by the time Leo’s portal appeared.

Raph was up and prattling on about lending a hand just to have an excuse to leave.

In a file, you watched as Mikey and Raph carted a bunch of food, pots, pans, utensils, and other kitchen gadgets in until your home was overflowing. Donnie made space on his desk and helped arrange the spill before Raph turned with his hands on his hips.

“Alright. I got class and then me and Leo will come by right on time?”

“6:30.” Mikey swung a spoon to cement his point.

Raph threw his own finger up genially and spun on one leg to leave through the portal.

“Ah!” Mikey suddenly fussed and passed the spoon off to you. “Hold it! I have something else to grab! Forgot something! You know me!”

Donnie’s head shot up where he was clearly cataloging as everything had been accounted for thus far.

“Don’t spike the food!” Raph complained but pressed a hand up to the top half of the portal like he was holding a door.

“I’m not! In this house?!” Mikey shot you a wink out of Raph’s eye line before ducking through the blue light.

“Yeah, yeah.” Raph shook his head after Mikey. “See y’all.” He gave a parting nod and disappeared as well.

“There shouldn’t be-!” Donnie furiously searched for what was misplaced.

You were about to help when Mikey returned with two stumbling leaps and a bottle of soda in hand.

Donnie gave an irritated face.

Mikey shook his head. “This was just cause I saw it. I actually forgot…”

It brought Donnie’s brow up before there was a blur and the portal shut.

For a moment, you didn’t register a change.

Then Donnie inhaled sharply and went ramrod straight.

You looked to find Splinter standing where the portal was holding a baking dish wrapped in foil. With his eyes downcast and wearing a little cardigan, he looked the picture of trying to do his best.

Your heart squeezed and you were in motion with a clunk of your crutch. “Splinter.”

“Y/N!” He walked up with his dish and found it occupying his hands. “I was worried! The boys kept me updated. I’m glad to hear that you…” He breathed a bit unsteady. “I am sorry this happened to you.”

“Yeah…” You’d heard that more times then you could count. “It is what it is…”

“Still! Those police are an absolute joke! Useless! A waste! Morons!” Splinter huffed.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Big Mama has been on a rampage.” Splinter told you casually before heading towards Mikey.

“Huh!? What?!” The younger turtle lowered himself to take the dish from his dad. “She what now!?”

“She was disrespected!” Splinter spoke as if this should be obvious news. “She has been methodically tearing down and restructuring the entire city center in her fury! So very her!”

“She’s…” You shook slightly in a rotation.

You looked to Donnie and couldn’t tell whether he knew that or not.

“Doing it for you!” Splinter threw a gesturing hand to you as soon as he was freed from his dish. “Oh, this is my very special green bean casserole, by the way! Also for you!”

“For…?” You took a few steps. “Wait, Big Mama can’t be doing that for me.”

“You, you.” Splinter waved a hand and looked around the packaged kitchen. “This place is too small!”

Mikey tapped his dad’s head with a spatula. “Don’t complain.”

“Hmph!” Splinter rotated. “You were her guest. Her new hotel’s poster couple! I’m surprised she hasn’t killed off and replaced the entire police department. Morons!”

He’d repeated himself, but the words didn’t seem real. “It didn’t seem like she liked me.”

“She likes you plenty! She wouldn’t do that for anyone!” Splinter turned, remembering something. “Put that in the fridge, orange!”

“I’m gonna be doing fridge Jenga, dad.” Mikey rolled his eyes. “Y/N, wanna help?”

“Uh, yeah!” You moved to set your crutch on a nearby counter.

Splinter saw he was in the way and scrambled a few nervous steps out of the kitchen.

As you passed him, you saw him keep his head down as if he wasn’t allowed to look around the living room proper.

Concern stuck to your features as Mikey held the fridge open for you.

Stepping around it, he used the door as a barrier for a private conversation.

You moved a few items in the icebox and gave a skeptical look as it would hide nothing.

He frowned and gave up trying to translate to instead focus on the task at hand. “How about I pass you perishables? That good?”

“Yeah. Standing in one place is easy. I’m just wobbly if I move too much.” You settled as a wedge in the fridge door as Mikey moved to pass things.

“It didn’t take too long to prep. I mean I’ve got a good few hours here so I wasn’t sweating.” He passed a few things over.

You methodically organized them.

“You’ll have to return my dear Tupperware.”

You paused in show of holding an old butter container that had something chopped inside.

“A family heirloom.” Mikey told you haughtily.

“Clearly.” You joked back and slipped it in.

Mikey walked you through the upcoming steps as you stuffed the fridge then freezer. When you came up with a semi-cleaned work surface, you glimpsed Splinter sitting on the couch near the closest arm and Donnie standing at a side angle near his desk. You imagined it would take some time for them to be able to approach each other and dove into the normalcy with Mikey. He ended up being a better teacher at cooking than meditation and walked you slowly through what you could best help with. In contrast, his own tasks disappeared in a flurry where he chatted casually as he moved around a full stove’s worth of burners and an active oven. You weren’t sure how he kept track of all the different cook times, but he seemed to know just when to move or extract something.

It had been at least an hour and you were casually washing some utensils for their third or fourth use when you heard Splinter’s voice. “You’ve made… quite the home.”

You didn’t hear Donnie respond and instead turned to Mikey who knowingly held up more dirty dishes.

With those soon cleaned, you moved on to oven Tetris for the many dishes that needed to be baked when you heard Donnie say something.

“You are still in contact with Big Mama.”

“Y/N!” Mikey blurred through your vision, moving faster than your eye to put the last pans in and slam the oven door shut for you. “You gotta look at this sunset!”

“Sun… set?” You blinked.

“Yeah!” Mikey slipped around you and opened the kitchen window.

“The sun doesn’t set for another-”

“It’s beautiful, you have to see!” As if it were a door, Mikey stepped right through the opening.

You stumbled a few steps after him in confusion and bit your lip on a noise when his arms shot out to grab you. In one perfect tipping lift, you were hoisted up and angled right through the window before you were set on the fire escape. “Wha-!?”

Mikey held a finger up to his lips and put great care in slowly closing the window.

When it was noiselessly shut he let out a big sigh.

“It’s time.” Mikey told you and then fell back to sit on a metal step.

“They’re talking?” You perked up.

“Yep. Not about to be a part of all that.” Mikey twirled a lazy finger and took a deep breath of city air. “Sky’s mostly blue.”

You leaned against the brick to look up. “Yeah…”

“It’s pretty.” Mikey murmured.

“Yeah.” You agreed.

For a long time you sat in the moment and let the bustle buzz as a dull hum until you made it over to Mikey. He moved aside to give you room and you both occupied the same step.

“Can you hear them?” You asked softly so as not to disrupt the moment.

“Nope.” Mikey tipped his head towards you. “Donnie’s got super glass or whatever he does.”

You snorted. “You’re going to slip up calling him that.”

“He can get me then.” Mikey threw up lazy fisticuffs.

“Thank you.”

“For saying I’ll fight him?” Mikey still had his arm’s akimbo and looked at you.

You bumped him with your shoulder, but left your body pressed to his. “For helping save me. For shortening my healing time. For teaching Donnie meditation. For making all this food. For getting Splinter...” You shook your head at the list. “For texting me about Donnie cooking.”

Mikey lightly chuffed and leaned a metered amount of his weight back. “I should thank you.”

“For what?” You looked at him.

You got to see up close how gooey his expression was when he turned to you. “For saving him.”

“I didn’t.” You shook your head. “He saved himself. I just got to watch.”

Mikey thought for a moment and returned. “Let me rephrase.”

“Go ahead.” You chuckled.

“Thank you for making him happy.”

Your heart jumped and you smiled brightly.

“Cute.” Mikey teased and leaned his carapace back on the steps.

You nudged him lightly where you couldn’t do the same and stared out at the darkening city until you felt a familiar pressure in your stomach. “Oh no…”

“What?” Mikey’s voice was sleepy.

“I have to pee.” You groaned and remembered how you’d been so on edge with Donnie many hours before Mikey had even arrived. That added to the current till, meant you hadn’t visited the bathroom since early that morning.

“Hold it!” Mikey sat up. “Do you know how rare this is!?”

“You think I don’t want to!? This was dropped on me the same time as you!”

“Yeah!” Mikey’s head shook with stress. “Stupid secret diner meetings with dad were not on my Donnie bingo card, but this marks the fourth time they’ve spoken ever! So I say again: hold it!”

“We have to go inside eventually!”

“Yeah, when the timers go off!”

Something beeped.

One single clear time.

“Mikey…”

Mikey paled.

“What was that!?”

“The… fifteen minute warning?” Mikey eeked out and went to grab his phone. “It’s 6:15…”

“We need to go inside!”

“We can wait!”

“Let’s just peek!”

“You peek!” Mikey scrambled up a step further from the window. “I’m not chancing nothing!”

You didn’t blame him in the slightest and inched forward slowly where your hips were weary. Nothing you couldn’t handle as you were a base level of sore as of late, you edged forward and carefully placed your fingers to the sill before hoisting yourself up to look inside. A clip of the counter blocked some of your vision, but you could see Donnie sitting with his back toward you and looking down the couch where you imagined Splinter was.

“What do you see?” Mikey was obviously impatient.

“I can only see Donnie, but there’s no signs of a fight. He’s just…” You stared hard at the back of your boyfriend’s head. “… sitting there.”

“That’s probably fine…?” Mikey seemed to be genuinely asking.

“Yeah…” Your crouch put further pressure on your bladder. “I’m opening the window.”

“Y/N!” Mikey clanged against the fire escape as he shied another step away.

“We have to go back in eventually! Everything will burn!” You pressed the jamb lightly before cracking it.

You felt the rush of air and the scent of food waft out, but little more.

Your heart beat fast in your chest and you moved to check with Mikey.

His eyes were a new kind of wide.

‘Bad?’ You mouthed as obviously as you could.

Mikey shook his head furiously.

Your abdomen pulsed.

You pushed the window further up.

Mikey caught your arm.

You wordlessly pulled from him.

His head shook so fast his hair was coming out of its tie.

You yanked to the side and both of you struggled in front of the window.

“Is it really possible to love someone who is evil?”

Both you and Mikey froze at the sound of Donnie’s voice

Then you were nearly beating each other to try to close to the window.

“I once told her I knew there was still good in her.” Splinter’s response came next.

You heard a dull sound.

Something indistinct and electronic.

Mikey’s eyes turned white and he disappeared from you.

Blinking into the empty fire escape, you swore you heard the faint sound of a timer in the distance.

That meant the food was done.

You had to go inside no matter what.

Stunned, you looked toward the window with your heart plummeting and pushed it all the way up so you could climb back inside.

“I was wrong!” Splinter’s voice cracked as your belly pressed against the sill, halfway through. “Still good!? What does that mean!? She never said anything, but she must have known. Why was I so hung up on the distinction? Good. Bad…” He heaved a heavy breath.

You nearly somersaulted over, but you channeled every ounce of your physical therapy and just barely saved yourself with a careful foot to the floor.

“Love does not know such things! I loved her in spite of everything. I loved her after she imprisoned me. I loved her because I loved her. Her alignment or however you would say was not what my heart chose. I chose the woman who understood me. Who sat by me. Who liked going out dancing as much as she appreciated a good movie night on the couch!”

The last of your muscle strength was spent on dropping as silently to the floor as you could.

“I wonder if it was… my fault we drifted apart and… that may be…? Oh, but these things happen... I did not condone her activities. I still don’t, but I’d be lying if I didn’t think I liked that she’s still feisty!”

Donnie gave what was almost a laugh.

It also sounded congested.

You slithered on your belly with only the intention of getting to the bathroom and not interrupting.

“Donatello. None of us chose the life we are born into. I’d say we get to choose after and to a point I did, but a certain destiny caught up with me. Right… Wrong… Who’s to say? I made the decisions I did.”

You were close to the edge of the counter.

“What I can tell you is that when the time comes, for whatever that may be, you get the choice in how you react. When I had my hand in stopping the Shredder or the Krang, I wish I could say I thought of humanity. I didn’t. I thought of my boys. I thought of…” Splinter cut himself off and his voice shook. “I did what I did out of love. I continue to do it for the same. If you are worried that is bad, then you are wrong. Love may be the only right choice any of us can make.”

Your head appeared out from the wood and you saw Splinter first.

He had slid down to the middle of the couch at some point and Donnie now took his old spot at the sofa’s arm.

With his back to you, Donnie was slightly hunched, but that wasn’t what you were looking at.

Down on Donnie’s knee, you saw Splinter’s spindly pink hand settled on top of Donnie’s.

Neither party moved and there were tears in the air.

You meant to run.

You meant to fly.

You were going to lock yourself in the bathroom.

You weren’t going to intrude on this scene.

Instead you rose at the same time a blue light flashed.

Your heart hit the floor.

Donnie and Splinter jolted apart and turned in that direction.

“Y/N!” Mikey hissed as quietly as he could behind you.

Your head tilted toward the sound, but you couldn’t peel your gaze away.

Leo slipped out of the portal with his eyes closed and a carton of cream in his hand. “Yello, dinner party people!”

Raph’s arm appeared next, but Leo froze in his way.

Donnie spun and was heading towards you with his head down.

Staring at where your boyfriend had just been on the couch, Leo was looking at the vision of his father with huge fat tears in his eyes.

“Dad…?” Leo whispered a silent spell.

As if your blood pressure hadn’t fallen enough, it broke through the floor.

Leo didn’t know Splinter was going to be here.

Mikey’s earlier action slapped you in the face.

“What-” Leo’s voice darkened and he moved toward you.

Donnie passed you and Mikey squeaked where he was clearly still in the window based on the way he struggled.

A blue light broke out behind you and you turned to watch Leo’s head appear there, cutting Donnie off. “-did you do!?”

Donnie’s head snapped upright and from this angle all you could see was Leo’s face.

It was broken glass and horrified awe.

Raph whispered something to Splinter.

He was making sure his dad was alright.

“You…” Donnie spoke against the will of his body.

Leo was stuck by only his own accord while Mikey was very literally wedged in the window.

Donnie’s got his sights on the youngest.

“Why was Leonardo not informed?” Ice crystals could have formed on Donnie’s words and you would have believed they were real.

“Th-th-that’s-! U-um!!” Mikey’s hands splat against the wall where he tugged as hard as he could before he popped out of the jamb.

He hit the ground in a flop and shot to his feet, curling around Leo’s portal.

“Th-this looks bad, but I-I told you! There was no way Leo or Raph would have agreed! I couldn’t tell them!” Mikey stopped just shy of passing his disembodied brother.

No one moved.

“They would have stopped me! Or dad!” Mikey pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. “You know that!”

Donnie inhaled a single time.

“I agreed!”

The scene had not defrosted, but you felt everyone’s attention shift to where Splinter had yelled out.

“When Michelangelo told me you wanted to talk, he shared his concerns about the others!” Splinter’s harsh voice didn’t have a single edge. “I agreed it would be best for me to slip in! They know I am stubborn! As long as I got here, they would not make me leave!”

Smoothly, his words slid and coiled around the group.

“Do they…” Donnie lifted his head and you knew he’d placed his villain persona on. “… control you?”

Splinter made an audible jarred sound.

“Elderly rat at the whims of his more powerful sons?” Donnie was careful in rotating so he stayed out of your view and hit a button to turn off the oven.

“Donatello…” Splinter begged.

“All you do is lie.” Donnie’s malice broke and it dripped to the floor with several hard plops. “Always! All of you!” In a spin, you finally glimpsed your mate and the tears that flung from the velocity of his rage. “You never stop! You compulsive animals!!! HOW?! HOW CAN ANYONE BELIEVE ANYTHING YOU SAY!? WHEN YOU TAKE NOTHING SERIOUSLY?! WHEN YOU NEVER HAVE!? HOW CAN ANY OF THIS BE REAL!? WAS ANY OF THIS-!?!”

“It was!” Splinter stepped up onto the arm of the couch with tears matting his fur. “Donatello, please! You have to understand! I take this matter more seriously than any other!”

“Oh.” The cadence of Donnie’s words bled. “This then? You take this seriously? Now? NOW?!” He bellowed and even you flinched. “OBVIOUSLY NOW IN YOUR OLD AGE! LATER! OF COURSE! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! YOU ALWAYS HAD IT IN YOU! YOU JUST HAD TO HAVE ME GROVEL! NOT BEFORE THOUGH! THIS IS THE MATTER OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE! NOT WHEN A CHILD GOES MISSING! NOT WHEN A LAB EXPLODES AND YOU SAW, YOU SAW, ONE OF FOUR NOT END UP IN YOUR CLUTCHES?! NOT THEN!? NOT TO EVEN LOOK ONCE!!! NOT WHEN A LITTLE BOY WAS LEFT AND TORTURED FOR YEARS!!!”

Donnie choked.

Splinter welled up.

You looked to the others.

Mikey had brought his hands up to cover his mouth and his tears flowed from grossly large eyes.

Leo still hung, half in, half out, of his portal across the apartment and his face was painted with the bitter weight of the knowledge.

Raph’s lips drew a warped line and his features winced, but he refused to look away.

None of them knew.

Like Leo hadn’t known about the library.

Only you knew Donnie’s past.

“Now…” Donnie threw up his tear stained cheeks and checked around the air. “NOT, NOW HUH!? NOT IN THE ONLY APPLICABLE MOMENT?! NOT A SINGLE GUN!? NOT EVEN A BULLET! WHAT A HANDY FUCKING SCAPEGOAT THAT ALLUDES ME!!! YET ANOTHER BLIGHT BROUGHT UPON BY THE HAMATO NAME!! WHY!? WHY NOW!? WHY DOES MY ACCURSED NINPO NOT MANIFEST NOW!?!”

“It’s because you’re not angry.”

Donnie turned to you with outright betrayal on his features.

You rose with the blow of it and felt your face crumple. “You’re not mad… You’re… You’re sad…”

You watched, up close, how every emotion fell off Donnie’s face.

Left only with featureless surprise, his pupils shook with the empty off-whites in his eye before he turned.

He was going to run.

He needed to leave.

You would field the others.

You only needed to stop four mutant men.

Simple enough on a broken body.

They were already looking at you.

You would give Donnie an opening.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!!” Raph’s voice cut through at a volume that caused the wall fixtures to shake.

It created a new spell, this one stopping time instead of freezing it.

“NO-!”Raph reached into the portal near him and yanked Leo out of the kitchen and to his side where he threw an enraged finger over top to keep his younger brother in place.

Leo’s eyes took up his entire face and his head shrank down into the top of his plastron in translation that whatever Raph was doing was new.

“MORE-!”Raph stormed into the kitchen where he skirted Donnie long enough to pick up Mikey.

The youngest was thrown clear across the apartment, toward the door, where he barely activated his flight, and staved off colliding with the surface with a burst of orange sparks.

Raph then looked out at his family across the apartment and pointedly put his shell to you and Donnie. “-LIES!!!”

Again, the apartment shook.

He stood there, a shock of muscles quivering with rage before he turned with watery eyes. “You’re right!” Raph told Donnie. “You’ve been right!”

One of Donnie’s hands started to lift.

“All this time!” Raph’s features fragmented and he had to scrub them back into place like a sliding puzzle. “Not how you did it! You fucked that up so bad, but about us! Of course you wouldn’t trust us! How could anyone trust us!?”

Donnie had clear reservations, but didn’t speak.

“We’ve said a thousand times before that we’ll change, we’ll tell the truth, that we’re finally going to quit lying, and not once has it been different! We’re not going to be different until we stop acting like it is! What happened!? Happened! What’s done!? Is done and I’m sick and tiredof pretending it’s anything else!” Raph shook with what was almost a laugh. “I’m out, Lee. As of right now? I quit.” Coming up, he looked the most serene you’d ever seen him. “I quit the team. Hell! As it is? I quit the family.”

You heard Leo scramble.

Raph looked right at Donnie. “I’m going to the roof and I’m going to explain our ninpo. I’m going to tell the damn smoggy sky for all I care. You come or you don’t. Raph is currently a solo act.”

Raph then walked straight over to the window and stared at it for only a second before he grabbed the casing.

Your body pulsed with fear, but Raph barely flexed and pulled the entire frame straight out of the wall and brick outside. “I’ll fix this later.”

Setting the window frame down with far too much care for the destruction he just wrought to your wall, Raph walked out onto the creaking fire escape and climbed up out of view.

Donnie only surveyed some rubble that had landed by his foot before he moved to follow.

You stared as your partner stepped onto the metal.

He paused for a moment, never looked back, and continued after the oldest.

You felt a brush and looked down to find Splinter at your feet.

The old man gave you a single even nod before he too followed out the hole.

Leo made a noise.

As soon as Splinter stepped outside a blaring red wall appeared to block the path.

You heard a knob click.

You spun just in time to see Mikey in your front doorway where he had a similarly empty expression.

Your lips parted to ask.

Mikey drew a tight line with his. “No more lies.”

You wanted to yell that you weren’t.

Of the entire lot of them, you’d lived the most honest.

That wasn’t quite true.

You only had excuses.

Guilt wringing you out, Mikey left and the door closed behind it.

That left you and Leo.

With Mikey manning the front door and Raph blocking what was once a window, you were now trapped with the only turtle who despised you.

You stood in the lingering heat of the oven.

Despite melting down, Donnie still took the time to save the food you and Mikey had worked so hard to prepare.

You loved your mate so much.

Had you hurt him?

Why had you told him that about his ninpo?

Should you have stood up for him more?

You held your hands close to the oven handle.

It seemed then, and still did, that you had said what you needed to.

You needed to be alone with him to deal with everything that had happened.

You’d already agreed to do exactly that.

It would help if you had a few of those categories sorted.

Donnie always did prefer you to have done your homework.

He’d done his both with Splinter and then would come with spades having had a conference with Raph.

That left you now needing to deal with your shit.

So you said what you needed to. “Guess we could start with the easiest stuff.”

Leo grunted lightly in what you imagined was him getting to his feet.

“How you’ve said you wanted me dead twice now.” You threaded your fingers through the oven handle, but only held it.

“Wrong.” You heard Leo try the front door.

Either Mikey or S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was keeping it closed.

You imagined the automaton was somewhere with popcorn.

“At the gala, one. You wouldn’t remember my name.” You squeezed metal. “And the last time we really spoke. You said I hoped I would be your final straw.”

“I didn’t say hope.”

“But you did say you wanted me dead.”

“This is purgatory.” Leo decided and a thunk sounded that you knew to be his head against the door.

“Welcome to hell.” You gave a sort of smile. “We’re doing this.”

“Raph can’t quit.” Leo spoke distant.

You crossed the apartment.

“We all agreed. No one was coerced. He’s not going to talk about our ninpo. We agreed.”

“It’s over, Leo.”

“I’m their leader.”

You stared.

There was no way to reach him.

He was going to encase himself in as many lies as he needed to protect his fragile heart.

You knew that all too well.

You had your own man doing the same.

You were careful in signaling you were going to touch him before you did.

Leo only gave you a sharp glance, but didn’t move. “Dad’s there. He’ll stop him. Dad knows the threat.”

You took Leo’s wrist and led him to turn.

He came with his head down, locked in on his delusion, and turned toward you in a show that he would not be moved.

“Mikey took a different route. He’s got me. Mikey is always my best back-up. He makes openings with his ninpo. He takes the heat. He’s fire incarnate.”

You released Leo and sized him up.

“Then I slip in. You never got to see us work coordinated. Raph’s too obvious as a bruiser. Mikey’s the real tank. I’m the speed and precision and Raph finishes them off.” His foggy gaze gave way to how happy the memories were.

Your body ached and you used the pain to watch him clearly.

“We head home to dad.” Leo was exactly where he described. “He wouldn’t ask what we did. We wouldn’t ask what he did. We existed in the moment. That’s how it was. ‘Orange, whip something up.’ ‘You got it, daddy-o!’ ‘What’s on the menu tonight?’ ‘Well, we’ve got quite the array of the latest day old delights! Locally sourced from the finest dumpsters.’ ‘I’ll take the chef’s special.’ ‘Coming right up!’ ‘Think we’ll be able to pronounce it this time?’ ‘Not a chance, Rapharoni. Not a chance…’”

You hugged straight into Leo’s center.

He made an audible, “Oof.”

Getting as much of his carapace in your hands as you could, you squeezed him with all your might.

Leo’s arms hung limp over yours.

“’It’s knock-knees.’ ‘What the!? Gnocchi! What’s wrong with you?’ ‘You say it like no-key!’ ‘Of course there’s no key! We live in a subway! Where would we keep a door?’ ‘Leo!’ ‘That’s worse than your bit yesterday with the pho.’ ‘I thought you’d pho-geddaboudit!’ ‘Not again!’ ‘Why do you always do that!?’”

Fat tears knocked on your head one at a time.

You hugged him tighter and his sentences devolved until he was humming the tune of the past.

What had you really learned about this man?

You had no idea.

Leo never said what he meant.

Where Donnie was precise, Leo was ambiguous.

Both calculated, Leo played mental chess thinking of his finishing move while Donnie remapped the board at each step.

While each had their advantages, it was Leo’s methodology that you couldn’t follow.

Retroactive action had once threatened your relationship with Donnie.

It destroyed your knowledge of Leo before you could even place what it was.

He was too sharp.

He knew exactly how to push other’s buttons.

He was a master manipulator.

He’d done exactly what he wanted and kept you at bay.

Not without taking critical damage himself, it just so happened that you had a knack for such a thing.

You’d only inflicted him with wounds because you hadn’t planned at all.

You had time now.

It was with yours, you found Leo, small and trapped in what had to be his teen years.

He clung to memories before the world came crashing down around them.

His family.

He never saw them differently.

That was why he spoke the way he did.

It shaped how he acted.

He created a mold then and there and pressed the rest of him through melted wax.

Only the die was imperfect.

He decided his final move as a child and never looked back.

His family was his entire worth and everything he did was for them.

Only he was so focused on preserving the them of that moment, that he hadn’t seen the field of play had changed.

They no longer needed him in the way he’d decided.

No matter how many times they tried to tell him, he kept stubbornly forcing himself through that old mold.

Each time he extruded a blue shape that was more and more malformed.

It showed every edge where the plates hadn’t been properly set.

Trying relentlessly to make it work, Leo had spent decades refusing to rework the machine.

He only needed to try again.

The wax was wrong.

He was wrong.

He could fix it.

He just needed to try.

He’d sat stubborn.

Long past when the materials ran out and he had begun to crush his skin between boiling metal.

Through each throttle and scar, he continued until he no longer knew when to stop.

When his family acted out of the distorted image he drew, it was an attack of his very being.

He was betrayed again and again and forced more of himself into the mold.

If only he could get it right.

It would be an injustice for you of all people to stop him.

Not you.

Not when he’d worked so hard.

He’d worked himself past flesh and to bone.

Then from the dust, he continued to toil.

He’d been right.

You both were.

You were happenstance over a sandwich.

You’d told him about choice, but his answer sheet was worn down.

How could he make any other, when he wasn’t on your plane?

He was a trapped time traveler and his portals only cut space.

He was also wrong.

Raph’s fed up speech ghosted your ears.

Things happened.

It was done.

You felt the shift.

By speaking those few words into existence and disrupting the flow, Raph had upset the status quo in the same way you had.

Then Splinter followed.

Before Mikey made his own path.

Which left two, one wholly present and the other here in body alone.

You anchored that side of him, having hugged him so long your arms screamed with a force very unlike all the stressors from your crutches.

Leo was sobbing, but he didn’t hold you.

He simply rained his sorrows down.

What could you do?

You couldn’t tell him.

He’d heard a thousand words.

They’d had family meeting after meeting.

They’d spent a lifetime and were still in the same rut.

What about Raph’s simple action had been so different?

What about yours scared Leo so deeply, to his core?

If it was what you said, then you should have reached him.

He’d said you’d dug it out of him.

Eyes damp against his shirt, you saw a mental flurry of Leo’s baring their souls.

It wasn’t you.

It had never been you.

It had been time.

Just like Donnie.

It was time.

“You did good.”

Leo babbled a few more syllables, before he stiffened in your hold.

“You did so good.” Tears threatened your vision so you closed your eyes and put all your strength into the hug. “You were right!”

“That-” You felt his hands ghost up to push you away.

“You were!” You forced your body flush with his and sent a watery grave into his eyes. “You were right to love! You were right to fight! You were right to worry! You were right to try! You were right to do everything you could to protect your family! Leo, you did an amazing job!”

A revelation did not pass over Leo’s features.

He stared down at you, spellbound.

He saw you.

The current you.

He saw now.

“They lived!” You told the parts of him, one foreign and aged mingling with the other who hadn’t properly looked in a mirror in years. “You did it. You got them all here! You protected them!”

“I…?” He believed you.

Your cheeks threatened to swallow your eyes. “Every one of them.”

“But they…”

“But nothing!” You stepped closer into him and he had to widen his stance to stay upright. “You can keep punishing yourself, but that doesn’t do them any good! They’re waiting for you! They don’t care what you did! They care what you do now! So, you didn’t save them the way you wanted? Does that really matter? The end result is the same!”

His own philosophy crashed the pieces of him together and he wobbled.

You squeezed until you thought your shoulders might pop out of their sockets. “And that’s where you are. You’re at the end of the road, Leo. You did it. You’re done. Your job is done.”

The first breath he took gave his new form life.

The second felt the years he’d lost.

The third sipped bittersweet in the many lives the old him had touched.

Then came happiness.

In a wave so large, his teeth lined up for a decade’s wide smile.

The time between flowed like a river down his face in droves.

“You can rest.” You buried your face into him, but saved your mouth. “Your loved ones are here and they’re waiting. They’ve been waiting all this time. They want to thank you. You did everything you could.”

Leo hugged you.

In one giant sweep, all that you had squeezed into him was returned until you were nearly bowled over.

You genuinely had no idea how either of you were still upright.

“He’s in good hands.” You added as soon as you got your oxygen back.

It was crushed right back out of you and together you both cried.

The downpour washed the slate clean.

You weren’t sure if you would etch it anew, but for now you were going to store it.

There was time.

So much so, especially for Leo, that you languished in it. It brought you both stumbling to the couch where neither of you could let go. It was only after being seated side by side did you feel sturdy, but Leo didn’t let go with an arm slung around your shoulders. He grew into a frustrating weight, but there was a certain comedy to it that had you both barbing each other with little spikes for a sense of normalcy. You weren’t sure if that would be your relationship moving forward, but for now it felt like you could traverse it on your own terms.

When Raph came down the fire escape in a series of clangs, Leo only arched out where he still had a hold on you and greeted his brother with a wry smile.

If Leo’s newly current presence was obvious to you, it was plain as day for Raph, who was moving forward. “Leo!”

“Hey, bro. Miss me? Bring that big beautiful mug over here for me to see!” Leo extracted his arm from you and whispered a parting sorrow in your ear. “Sorry, doll.”

For a moment you were on a rooftop until you were back in your apartment looking at Leo.

“What can I say?” He was all smarmy charm. “A fling’s a fling! No hard feelings?”

You had a thousand insults on your tongue, but Donnie’s arms wrapped around your middle and he extracted you with a bitter glower.

Leo didn’t pay him any mind and caught Raph by the cheeks to squeeze them. “Prickly, you forget to shave?”

“What can I say? It’s past five o’clock.” Raph fluttered his lashes.

“Big news: I’m thinking about quitting too.” Leo gave Raph’s face one last squish before he let go.

“Oh?” Raph craned his brow ridge through his mask.

“Yeah, thinking about starting a new team. I’m still workshopping a name. I’m thinking Mayhem’s Mutants. We get ourselves a cute mascot. Everybody loves a cute mascot.” Leo tipped his head, amused.

“He is cute.” Raph caught the joking bug. “Good luck with that, I’ll have to see. I sent out a ton of resumes and have already gotten a few calls back.”

“That right? Well, make sure to suit up for the interviews and when they hit you with that bit at the end asking if you have any questions, you always, always, ask ‘em about parking. They eat that shit up.” Leo threw out his hand in a smoothing sailing motion.

“Thanks. I think I will.” Raph chuckled.

“Also, like remember though, I’m just saying, my thing has dental…! So… you know… keep your options open, alright?” Leo clucked.

Donnie cuddled you close where he’d pulled you clean over the back of the couch.

You leaned back and bumped your head against the underside of his chin.

He rested there.

Little nail clicks were Splinter and you opened your eyes to see him crawl up onto the couch to approach his middle son.

A small fear caught you and you grabbed Donnie to share the load.

He held you tightly.

It hadn’t occurred to you that Leo’s change could be an impermeant one, but faced with this father, a certain manifestation of how he came to be could upset the balance.

You wanted to interfere, but it was out of your hands.

Splinter touched Leo’s arm before moving to cup his son’s cheek.

He then pinched hard and pulled.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Leo squawked.

“Do you know how long we’ve been waiting!?” Splinter complained.

It was the perfect response.

Leo immediately welled up with tears.

“Come on, pops! C-can’t have been that long…” Leo spoke weepy.

“Foolish boy!” Splinter scolded, but his sharp edge was disintegrating by the second.

Raph smiled and you watched his eyes flash red.

Leo’s joined for a flicker of blue and you felt Donnie jolt around you.

Looking up you found him with a shine of purple in his iris and then the front door exploded open.

“Leo!!!” Mikey shrieked and flew straight to tackle Leo off the couch and into Raph.

“Alright, alright! There’s enough of me to go around! Stop acting like I’ll disappear into another dimension or something!” Leo complained.

A beat of silence passed.

“Not funny, Leo!” Raph growled and pulled all the Hamato into a hug.

“What is wrong with you!?” Mikey hissed.

“You dare joke-!” Splinter threw out frustrated balled fists.

Leo laughed brightly and you felt a very specific fracture in the family mend.

You leaned further into Donnie.

He moved to envelope you, but a growl rumbled out from his stomach.

There was a pause that could only be broken by Mikey, “Dinner bell!”

Everything then went into motion. The meal was salvaged in various stages and you found that the cream you had seen Leo with was because Raph wanted to make his own dessert. He apparently had a cobbler recipe he was proud of and wanted to show off to you specifically. Splinter was able to present his green bean casserole which was admittedly delicious and supposedly his tout to where Mikey got his culinary skills. There was talk of jobs and this and that. In moving groups, you got to mostly rest as the men scarfed down comical plate loads and got into arguments over the silliest things.

It eventually broke off where Raph took full advantage of the kitchen and its central food hub as he always baked. Making quick work of repurposing a casserole dish, he eventually had time to take some measurements of a wall and Donnie dismissed him only to point outside. Raph poked his head out to find supplies on the fire escape and a calling card post-it with a caricature of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. on it that made Leo shudder. Clean up happened with Leo taking heavy point of washing many dishes and Mikey humming alongside him as a mystic dryer with orange tinted air. Raph stacked things up to eventually take with them and Donnie shot off a message to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. from his computer about what was left for the window repair.

It eventually brought a curious Raph over to the computer as he wasn’t going to let his promise go of being the one to fix it. The eldest tacked on a resume of the work he’d done around the lair where he’d expanded arch ways to better fit his size and architecture slid into Donnie’s special interest category. Both men were soon scouring blueprints and you feared it wouldn’t just be a window put back in place in your kitchen.

Nothing you could really do to stop them, you drifted to the side, where the other pair of turtles were entertained and found Splinter alone with a cup of tea on your couch. He gestured you over and made you one where you only faintly wondered where he’d gotten his supplies. You drank an incredible cup of smooth liquid that had you sending awe at the old man who took your praise in stride. A timer went off and Leo got a little too excited. His hand went up where it had been hand mixing a bowl of cream. The fling brought ire then a laugh from Mikey who seemed relentless in hanging off the blue brother.

All of it brought smiles to Leo’s face where piping hot cobbler was passed out with fresh dollops of cream running off.

Donnie was busy fixing a schematic and didn’t step away to grab a portion.

You’d been resting for long enough and got him one sans cream as you knew the melting whip would only sog the cobbler’s crispy top, a complaint you’d known well of your partner. Bringing the plate and a fork over, you set it down beside him to take at his leisure and he passed you a distracted glance along with an affectionate mating call for your effort.

It brought a plate clanging silence to the room.

Donnie immediately bristled.

Raph was the first to break out his excitement. “Life partners?!”

Fury was abated for repulsion on Donnie’s face. “Is that your descriptor?!”

“Uh, duh.” Leo rolled his eyes. “Kinda bigger deal than boring old English to have a special way of saying ‘I love you.’ What do you call it?”

Donnie turned and tried to bury his beak into his computer.

“Nope! Not letting that go!” Leo jumped the counter with Raph excitedly gushing about romance right behind him.

It caused Donnie to up and run from the pair where they circled the apartment making kissy faces as your boyfriend got more and more flustered.

Mikey appeared by your side with a forkful of cobbler. “I’m not into the whole thing.”

You nodded for the sake of it, watching the display and witnessing Splinter doing the same with an overflowing affection.

“Cretins!” Donnie reared a hand on a turn and with it came a wall of purple that Raph and Leo both slammed into.

Leo blinked a few rapid times before he peeled his face off the projection.

“Woah…” Raph ran his hands over the clear purple swath. “When’d you learn to make less lethal stuff?”

“Was he mad mad?” Mikey asked you. “Like ninpo making mad?”

You shook your head as you honestly didn’t believe so.

That made this Donnie’s first projection seemingly created his will alone.

This was confirmed for you as Donnie came forward to study the barrier with a finger curled to his lips.

“Amazing.” Leo was unenthused. “It’s literally a rectangle. Whoop-dee-doo. Wanna actually impress me, egghead? Make it disappear.”

“Here we go.” Mikey exaggerated an eye roll.

“It’s not magic!” Leo bristled.

“You were one step away from saying abracadabra.” Raph snarked.

Leo mimed the magic word mockingly to the oldest.

Donnie had his brow wrinkled during the exchange in clear effort.

Something then occurred to him and he leaned away with a slow exhale as if giving up.

The wall crumbled with pixels collapsing like a perfectly cleared Tetris screen.

Leo arched his mask. “Huh. Well alright.”

“Let’s try for a pistol.” Donnie flared with a tame malevolence for him.

“I’m blameless! You shoot your sensei!” Leo pointed at Raph as he exited and headed over to Splinter. “Got a cup for me?”

“I’d need to boil more wa-” Splinter yawned.

Mikey’s expression grew gooey. “About time.”

“I can stay up!” Splinter complained.

“He’ll be passed out in ten.” Raph told you.

You giggled.

“I will not! This is a special occasion!” Splinter brushed his eldest off with a wave of his hand.

Leo put the kettle on and Splinter fell asleep before it even hissed.

Burners clicked off, there was a quiet movement of gathering things and dividing leftovers. It struck you that Donnie hadn’t consumed anything, but you had a feeling he might later. All based on chance and how things held up, you did your best in choosing to take dishes he might like and a portal was soon formed to transport the rest. Straight into the lair kitchen, things were filed out with the final retrieval being Raph carrying a snoring Splinter through to put him to bed. The eldest then returned once the apartment was emptied and the three Hamato children stood in front of the portal for their goodbyes.

A less than poignant affair, you mostly got a group hug where they wished you well and there were promises of check-in texts. All in order, Donnie stood politely aside and watched on for a slight nod as his great thank you. It was accepted with a few jeers that he barked at and with that the men exited one at a time and Leo’s portal blinked away for the foreseeable future.

Donnie swept you off your feet within seconds. “What happened?”

“Which part?” You tittered as he was pressed behind you and carried you like a hostage to the bathroom.

“You were close! You smell like orange and blue all over.”

“Mikey pulled me out the window and I finally got through to Leo, for real this time.”

“You will shower and explain.” He decided gruffly and it was so endearingly him that you didn’t mind as you stripped.

He sat off to the side, peeking through the curtain as you did a quick wash of your body while regaling him with all that had occurred that night. For Mikey, Donnie cared little, but he ran a gambit of fury at the audacity of the middle Hamato for slighting you. He was still mad, but quieted as you exited the shower damp and nude. It distracted him and he only held a huff as he did his washing up at the sink where you eventually brushed your teeth. Whisked to bed in a none too romantic sense, Donnie instead ate up physical affection in a very literal sense. Mouthing over whatever skin wasn’t coated in pajamas, he obviously scented you before cuddling close where you finally asked him about how he watched your physical therapy.

He began by impressing upon you how proud he was to have you as his mate. He explained that even when he struggled to watch or help, you fought mercilessly and he couldn’t have been more enamored. He even went so far back to remark on your handling of the kidnapping, a lost time that he still applauded you for because however long it was, you’d survived. You’d eventually kissed into him, sweetly at first, in a way that reminded you of tasting a rare bottle of wine. The complexity came with airing and outpoured details.

You found out Donnie had in fact been doing mental constructions during his meditation. While Leo had stopped him from implementing new security cameras, Sinai Hospital had their own footage which Donnie had pilfered and gone through. When he played the tape back and examined it, he’d found that his ninpo didn’t just appear out of thin air, it was constructed there, piece by piece just as he had learned as a child. Hearing Mikey say meditation came with a variety techniques helped him pair the ideas and he found the schematic process to be a soothing one regardless of the lethal creation it was trying to curb. He was pleased with the progress and, as you had seen, had recently start to tap into his ninpo as a pool of energy.

Until tonight he hadn’t been able to conjure anything, but in his increased meditation, he no longer found the raging purple flame inside him. It was now an organ like any other, only it extended far beyond his body’s reach. He could now imagine himself approaching the well as if it were a materials cache. He imagined with practice not only could he manifest anything he could imagine, but there were probably other uses for the purple ooze beyond that.

You added what you knew about the other turtle’s power and Donnie revealed to you the conversation had on the roof. Just as Raph had said, he only explained the history and knowledge of the ninpo and nothing more. It was apparently a combined manifestation of the Hamato clan’s essence. A generational pool of power passed down, it was an exclusive art that was thought to only be tapped by wholly connecting and trusting one’s family. It manifested uniquely to each user, but seemed as unlimited and wild as all mystic arts. There was no discussion after the presensation and the trio on the roof had spent a time in silence, allowing the knowledge to permeate.

You tucked in close to Donnie at the thought of him wholly connecting to save you, his family, and he confirmed that, in that moment, he forgot all else, but a drive to save you. Overridden yourself, you felt compelled to open up about your healing humiliations. From stink to lashing out, Donnie took his time dismantling your concerns while also rubbing those exhausted muscles of yours.

Exhaustion and eventual mutual caressing coaxed loose lips where revealed he’d asked Splinter over because he needed a firsthand account of how love worked between a supposed hero and villain. Now that the forewarned grave harm had finally come to you, Donnie found it difficult to imagine you could have any sort of safe life together so he had to turn to the only pair he knew that had chanced and survived such a feat, successful or not. You admitted what you’d overhead and Donnie didn’t fault you. He only plied affections on how you’d snuck in without his knowledge.

Beofre he diverted back to you, there was something about the way Donnie spoke of his conversation with Splinter.

He had a finality to him.

Not as an ends, but a means to, something about his tone made you think this was the final barrier that had kept him from actually proposing.

You had to ask if that was the case as your lids grew heavy.

It was drawing close to dawn.

You’d spent hours catching up.

“Yes..” He breathed warmth at your intuitiveness. “I had reservations. Unrelated to the grotesque concept of asking a father’s permission, however.”

You were both gazing at each other from your pillows. “That last bit hadn’t crossed my mind. I swear.”

“He… did help...” He admitted. “He apparently proposed to Big Mama.”

You startled as much as your tired body could.

“Her response was to reveal her plans and imprison him to fight as a slave in her arena.”

“Oh…”

“He… still has the ring.”

You reached for Donnie.

He met you with careful fingers.

You wondered if Splinter had been any sort of stuck like Leo. There was the many names the old man had and he’d been open about his regrets. A frustrating like father, like son, you supposed it made sense and felt optimistic for the Hamato going forward.

Their familial bonds were apparently transcendent.

“His didn’t work out, but you think ours will?” You murmured.

“He was happenstance, to be clear. An example, if anything.”

You made a curious trill.

Donnie wormed closer. “Sleep, my love.”

“What was it, Don… exactly?”

Donnie’s beak lightly brushed the tip of your nose. “I was reassured that I am unlike them. Their cycle does not apply to me. I am something new. I am me and am immune to their failure.”

You brushed his cheek with a sloppy swipe. “Only one of you.”

“And you.” He pressed closer to seal the comment, before giving you space to sleep.

💜NEXT💜

Can you believe these two have been around since chapter 21? Hard to imagine a time before my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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kittyball23 · 5 months

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The Vesting (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Some years before Branch’s birth, Floyd gets officially inducted as a member of BroZone

A/N: Taking place before TBT

__________________________________________

The room was dark.

Floyd tried squinting, trying to adjust his eyes to make anything out, when all of a sudden, he was blinded by a bright light. He yelped and stepped back a little, the shine of the glowbug that had been lit startling him for just a second as it helped illuminate his surroundings. There, contrasted with the sharp light were his three older brothers standing across from him. John Dory was in the middle, holding the glowbug in his hands right under his face, as though he were holding a flashlight and about to tell a spooky story. Spruce was to his left and Clay was to his right. Floyd in the meantime stood there, uncertain of what was happening.

John Dory narrowed his eyes, and then suddenly began speaking in a deep, mysterious voice.

“We’ve gathered here today to undergo the most revered of ceremonies....”

Then, JD reached into his pocket and thrust a paper into Floyd’s hands. The magenta-haired Trolling, growing even more confused by the minute, gave a meek little “Huh?”

“Go on, read it!” John Dory urged.

Floyd looked down and skimmed through the words first, his brows furrowing. “Is this an oath?”

JD rolled his eyes. “No dude, a BROath,” he corrected.

“Which is pretty much like an oath,” Spruce clarified.

“Only ‘better’!” Clay added, making the word better with airquotes.

“Well it is,” JD said. He nudged Floyd. “Go ahead, dude, read it!”

Floyd shrugged. He may as well. He looked down at the page silently. He was only able to catch the first couple of sentences when the sound of a throat clearing made him stop. Floyd jerked his head up to find JD glaring down at him.

“Out loud.”

Floyd blushed. Whoops. After mumbling an apology, he cleared his throat and, as instructed, began to read the words on the page aloud. Or, as the title at the top was written, the ‘BroZone Credo.’

“’ 1) Family is numero uno. As fun as performing is, I promise to put bros before shows every time. 2) All bros are made equal, but we are not all the same. We have different colors, sizes, shapes and ages. I won’t judge my bro by his taste in music, but by his character. 3) A bro is not afraid to admit when he’s scared. When I am, I promise to confide in my bros and summon the Pop Power of all the brodacious superstars that came before us so that we can use all the love, all the smarts, and all the bravery we got to accomplish the ultimate Family Harmony. 4) All bros can make mistakes. I will admit when I’m wrong and work at it to make things right again. 5) Bros were born to sing. I promise to share my talents with others and not keep them all to myself. To earn my spot – ‘”

“Ooh, wait, wait, wait!” John Dory interrupted, waving his hands. “Stop there for a sec. You gotta raise your right hand now!”

“What?” Floyd shot a glance at Spruce and Clay. In return, they gave him a look that communicated Dude, we did this too. The magenta-haired Trolling shrugged and raised his right hand.

“Okay, good,” JD said. “Now you can keep reading.”

So Floyd did. “’To earn my spot within this band, I solemnly swear to uphold this oath – I mean, BROath – and honor it for the sake of my family.’”

“Forever?” JD asked him.

Floyd looked up from his paper and gave a small nod. “Forever.”

The BroZone leader smiled. “Good.” Then he snapped his fingers. “Spruce! Clay! Grab the item,” he commanded. The purple and yellow Trollings went off, and JD turned his attention to Floyd. “Floyd, arms up and eyes closed!”

By this point in the initiation, Floyd was still a little confused, but he’d learned to just go with it. He did as told (hoping he didn’t look too silly in his T-pose), and waited to see – or rather, hear – what was happening next. He heard some shuffling next to him, and then felt something being placed at his arms. Floyd began to open an eye, hoping to see what was going on, but he instantly shut it again at JD’s shout.

“Hey! No peeking!”

As the something was continued to be adjusted on his arms and then against his body, JD spoke.

“By the totally brodacious power invested in me – with an emphasis on the vest” – he paused to laugh at his own joke (one that Floyd was about to understand in just a few moments) – “I now pronounce you an official member of BroZone!!” He whooped and then clapped his hands. “Alright, now open ‘em up!”

Floyd blinked, and then looked down and gasped. A smile grew on his face as he beheld the elegant, magenta, polyester puffy jacket of a vest that was on him. It was pristine and brand new, fresh and perfectly form-fitting. It went with his hair, as each of his brothers' vests did, and he didn't need a mirror to know that it made him look, as John Dory would put it, totally brodacious! He turned this way and that, appreciating it no matter what angle he viewed it.

“Welcome to the band, little bro!” John Dory exclaimed. Spruce and Clay added in their own “Woo-hoo!”s and “You got it!”s to the chorus.

“Awww, well thanks you guys… thank you so much!” Floyd cooed, beginning to sniffle. The brothers already recognized the signs of oncoming tears, but didn’t badger the little guy about it. Classic Floyd always cried, but he had reason for his happy tears. This was a big moment! Another bro had just joined in on their special pact, and they were going to only continue to live up to their full potential. Before JD could help it, he thrust his hand out in front of him. Spruce recognized the motion and placed his hand on top of his, and then Clay on top of Spruce’s. Last but not least, Floyd still with tear-stained cheeks, placed his hand on Clay’s. They threw their hands up in the air together and chanted out.

“IT’S BRO-TIME!!”

Laughs and brotherly pats on the back followed… as well as an authoritative female voice from just the other room.

“No, it’s BEDtime,” the voice of their Grandma Rosiepuff called out, just before she appeared at the doorway of their room with her arms crossed. “Boys,” she continued, giving them a stern look. “Do you know how late it is?”

Groans came from the Trollings. “But Grandmaaa,” John Dory whined. “We were doing The Vesting!”

Grandma Rosiepuff snickered. She had seen JD do this special little ceremony of his for Spruce and then Clay when they were younger. JD pushed Floyd forward and beamed up at her. “See? Check out how he’s flexin’ the drip now! Pretty sweet, huh?”

Floyd looked up at their grandmother hopefully, his eyes shining. Grandma Rosiepuff smiled down at him. “It is ‘sweet,’ dear,” she said.

Floyd blushed while JD pumped his fists and Spruce and Clay high-fived.

“But do you know what else is ‘sweet’?” Grandma Rosiepuff continued. “Dreams.” She pointed a finger to the beds and the boys sighed, knowing that she was right. One by one, they slipped out of their vests and hung them at their bedposts (Floyd taking one more minute to admire his before he too did as his brothers had), and then they slipped into bed. Grandma Rosiepuff then made her rounds to each brother, helping to tuck them in. When she was finished, she turned off the glowbug and allowed it to flitter out the window.

“Good night,” she whispered to them.

And “G’night!” came the response of the four band members she was proud to call her grandsons.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #floyd trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #grandma rosiepuff #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes

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biblioklept-writes · 1 year

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Secrets and Lies - I (Mafia!Targaryens)

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! I hope you have wonderful holidays <3

Summary: Everyone knows that the Targaryens practically run the criminal underworld of Westeros from it's capital, King's Landing's heart - the Bel Air of Westeros: the Red Keep. You are now a part of this Mafioso life, whether you like it or not - but you think you do because the only way to get revenge is to stay in.

Word Count: 10.2K (I really outdid myself)

A/N: This is raw work - there might be errors left but I still have one final left😭 The characters are a OOC to fit my narrative. Also, platonic Aegon x Reader, Helaena x Reader, Daeron x Reader. My love for team green does show up heavily, so if that's not your thing I'd prefer if you don't comment on it. Please take the warnings a little seriously.

This will have an eventual part two. Until then, you can find a list of my House of the Dragon works here.

Warnings: There is talk of human trafficking, minor abuse, allusions to rape and sexual assault, trauma and trigger response. This part has mild violence, nothing too graphic. Please scroll away if any of this might trigger you.

The terror of the Targaryen family was known all over Westeros and Essos. They were considered the royalty of the underground business in the world, having connections and enemies in each city. They were claimed to be experts in the Mafia business, coming to rise more recently than the olden dominating families like the Hightowers, Tyrells and the Lannisters. But their reign of terror had been expansive and they now sat at the top - the wealthiest and the deadliest of them all even after generations had changed.

It wasn’t uncommon in the business to marry young people, but when Viserys Targaryen had married his daughter’s best friend after the death of his first wife during childbirth, more than a couple of eyebrows had been raised. Alicent Hightower still kept her name, now at the highest position that you could get. Rhaenyra Targaryen, the heiress, was displeased, so she went ahead to taint the family name by giving birth to three boys looking nothing like her husband - all three of them fathered by one of the low-power henchmen of her father’s, Harwin Strong.

She was still named Viserys’ heiress after Alicent had given him three sons and a daughter, even when the rest of the families did not approve of her less-than traditional ways. Viserys had a cousin, Daemon Targaryen, who was infamous for his cruelty in the seedy underbelly of the wealthy King’s Landing, the capital of Westeros practically run by the Mafia, and Rhaenyra married him in a secret ceremony after her husband and Daemon’s wife mysteriously died. Some even go as far as to say that not a leaf fell without their knowledge. And this centre is the headquarter of the Targaryen family, who had owned the lavish neighbourhood they had named the Red Keep. It was the Bel Air of King’s Landing, where only the rich could live.

Alicent Hightower had four children with Viserys - Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron Targaryen - all silver haired and purple eyed just like their father. Even his children from his young and beautiful wife didn’t stop him from favouring Rhaenyra, threatening to kill anyone who called her any sort of names. Some say she had had Daemon kill a man, one of their powerful relatives - Vaemond Velaryon - for calling her a whore. Though these were being dismissed as rumours, you had been in the room when Daemon had shot Vaemond in the back of his head.

You had been there when Viserys’ second son, Aemond Targaryen, lost his eye. Rhaenyra’s sons, Jace and Luke, had slashed his face in anger once he called them bastards. Aegon, Jace and Luke had been targeting Aemond relentlessly for being given the runt of the litter of puppies - a greyhound rather than a bloodhound as everyone traditionally got. The greyhound which he named Vhagar, was lithe but boney and weak-looking.

The trio had thought it was great to present Aemond with a pig to feed his weakling runt and himself, now being called a runt of the family. When Aemond finally retaliated, they took his eye, raised that way by their step-father.

Viserys, the senile old man, had demanded Aemond’s source of the bastardry claims instead of caring of his injury or reprimanding Luke or Rhaenyra. You had lurked in the shadows then, as you did now.

Shadows were your closest companion, after your german shepherd, Coco and your dearest laptops. Otto Hightower had taken you from one of the sex racquets run by the Boltons, impressed by your insistence to leave the place with him. Alicent then took you under her wing, raising you and Helaena like sisters since then. It had been so long ago, yet it had been only six years. University was a luxury to you, and you were grateful to Alicent for providing for you as she did for her children, even though you didn’t speak much with anyone except for little Daeron. He was your little brother and you would kill anyone who meant harm to him.

In university you took a more practical course of engineering in cyber security and taught yourself to hack into the best systems undetected. Alicent and Otto recognised your skill and kept that hidden from the rest of the Targaryen clan. In repayment for their efforts towards raising you, you spliced camera footage for them, breached into the CCTVs of their potential opposers. You had found some compromising proof for the rumours floating around about Daemon Targaryen, but you didn’t want such a powerful enemy right at the beginning of your mafia career.

In the evening, you trained with the bouncers and the guards, honing your fighting skills and learning tricks of the shadows. But you knew shadows, they had always been your companion especially when times had gotten rough.

You attended King’s Landing University with the rest of Alicent’s children - but only Aemond was in your year - and he majored in electrical engineering with a side of history, the ever geek - and you had a digital electronics class in common. Occasionally, you two spoke wandering about the campus because there were things you couldn’t talk about with the others. You had been there, hidden in the shadows as the medics opened the stitches of his eye, regretfully telling him that they couldn’t save it, for the cut had been too deep. You remembered that, there had been too much blood. You didn’t think a man could - should - bleed that much.

You weren’t friends, far from it. Maybe it could be termed as partnership - you trained together, shared the common interest in wicked weapons, and you taught him to quiet his steps, to become the shadows companion while he taught you tricks of light, commanding your presence, entrancing a room with the threat of explosion. You fought mercilessly too - more often than not ending up with cuts on your arms. Better to be injured in the presence of family than in an unknown place, Alicent had said on one such night. The mere thought that she considered a powerless orphan like you her family warmed your cold heart. A favour you returned by promising your skills to her sons, something no one else possessed in the mafia as of yet per your knowledge. And you had your revenge to take care of - Otto had promised you as much - leaving the Boltons for you to kill.

Aegon was two years senior than you, excelling in biochemistry with his specialisation in toxicology. He’d changed significantly in the six years when you first saw him - he’d finally opened his eyes to the reality that there was no one on his back save for his mother and siblings, not even his own father and especially not his nephews, his half-sister’s children. You supposed toxicology was a fit major for him with his wild drinking habits. As loud as he was inebriated, dull as a rope, when sober he could bring powerful men to their knees with mere words. Drunk or not, Aegon knew his poisons, and knew them well.

Helaena was your one year senior in Zoology, fitting with her collection of deadly pets besides the bloodhound, Dreamfyre - tarantulas, snakes, lizards with all sorts of wicked teeth and slow venoms - she knew the insects better than she knew people, and Helaena had the best instinct of them all.

Not-so-little Daeron was the speaker among the siblings. A master of words, he would twist your words and feed them back to you until you forgot what you said and go on with his suggestions. He was subtle in his art, and with the cute face with the big, innocent eyes he was the deadliest blade among them all. He wasn’t quick to anger and came out of every situation unscathed - even if he had set whole rooms on fire with the commotion he had set up with his words.

Luke was equal in age, and Daeron had the dark-haired bastard convinced that they were the best of friends, as if he didn’t hold a long grudge against him for taking his elder brother’s eye. He says he learnt the art of words from you and Aemond, which you find curious considering you are never spoken to by the socialites other than his siblings and Alicent, and Aemond is known for his silence. You wonder if it is one of his games, making you believe in a skill that you didn’t possess.

Even though you weren’t the siblings' friend, you wouldn’t hesitate to lose blood or your life for them, and you knew that they would kill for you. Whether they would lose blood over you was questionable, but they wouldn’t hesitate to spill someone else’s for your safety. They made you feel safe.

Currently you sit in the sun, looking at the logic gate circuit on your ipad screen as you scramble to find the correct answer. You know the answer is simple and you are just missing a bit, yet the answer logic evades you. Frustrated, you drop the pen beside you as you lean against the fence, closing your eyes for a moment.

The years of being shadow’s companion have forced you to rely on your senses other than vision, and your ears pick up the quiet sound of Aemond’s light footsteps and the leather and lime musk of his as he sits beside you. Your skin tingles as the invasion in your space as he twirls your pen between his fingers, letting out a sigh. “Anything that I may assist you with?” he asks.

“What do you want in return?” you ask, squinting to look at him.

“Nothing at the moment,” he rubs his hands on his black denim covered thighs. “Later though, I would like to invite you over for a chess match,”

You nod, handing over your ipad to him. You verbalise the question as he reads it, and abruptly remembering the missing bit, you snatch the ipad and the pen back and note it down. He smiles faintly at you, saying nothing. You wonder then, if Daeron learnt the power of silence from his brother.

“I suppose I can join you,” you say, happy that your problem is solved. “After we are finished with the evening training.”

Aemond nods in acknowledgement, then leaves turning back to salute at you as he leaves. His hair has grown long in the past year, falling well past his shoulders in silken silver threads, owing to the large hair care rack he had in his bedroom. You had only been there a couple of times after the eye incident, the one that had left him blind in one eye with a permanent long scar from the top of his brow to the bottom of his cheekbone. You had been to his floor in the main building multiple times for rounds of chess or just being quiet company to the siblings, adding in your two cents whenever you were questioned.

With the rising tensions in the family, Viserys had allowed Rhaenyra to live in the set of apartments on the far end of the Red Keep, while he kept the headquarter building for himself and in addition his young wife and her children, and you with Otto Hightower. He had given you a more than modest accommodation - a set of three rooms, a large bedroom with an attached bath and a mirrored glass set to appear opaque to the outside viewers, a general living area and study desk with a large television with every subscription imaginable, and a more inconspicuous room which held the actual prize - the four prized computers and two laptops that you had tested your hacking skills on.

His residence floor was less frequented by outsiders, by himself, and your accommodation was hidden by the bookshelves. Viserys knew you lived there in such a hidden manner and had assumed Otto to have the same depraved tastes as himself… which was disgusting, but helped you cover up nicely, considering Alicent signed the cheques for your college fees. No one on campus seems to know who you are or who is funding you, but don't dare ask - seeing Aemond, Aegon and Helaena around you more than once was enough.

After a round of rigorous training in stealth and aiming of blowpipes. You loved this particular style of weaponry - it was quiet, inconspicuous, and the needle got destroyed the moment it pierced skin, leaving no evidence - it forced you to be accurate. If your shot wasn’t true, you risked blowing up everything. The more you practised, the more effortless your aim became, and honestly, you were impressed with yourself. And now you want your efforts to pay off by helping Alicent and Otto Hightower.

It had been a while, Viserys health had been declining slowly - since before he had married Alicent, so you figured he’d been sick for far too long to have been poisoned by Aegon. Half of him had rotten - even with the treatment made available to him, his leprosy had taken his eye. You figured it was the universe’s way to make him pay; yet even that didn’t take his mind off Rhaenyra. It was during one of these days that Daemon had shot Vaemond, leaving the man with a perfect bullet-shaped hole in his head as his blood painted marble floor red.

Daemon was left unpunished for this crime, for he was only defending his young wife’s honour. Vaemond refused to give his nephew, Leanor’s seat to her bastard sons - that she had while being married to Leanor before he mysteriously disappeared - and proceeded to call her a whore, earning a 32 calibre revolver bullet through the back of his head. No one dared to call him out on it. Not even Viserys.

You were half tempted to kill Daemon with one of your poisoned pins, but you were yet to master the skill to perfection and he was a healthy man; him randomly dropping dead would raise more than eyebrows.

Perched atop the wooden log near the ceiling of the training room, you were cleaning your blowpipe when the door slid open and Aemond entered, having covered his sapphire eye with the eyepatch. You never knew why he chose that particular stone, but it looked good on him. You whistled as his pretty silver head turned away from you, and grinned when he spotted you.

“Hello, love,” you teased. “Looking for some company?”

“Get down, love,” He teased back. “You’re no company up there like a monkey,”

You threw your leg over the log and swiftly jumped down, softly landing on your toes. The twenty-something feet jump didn’t scare you, you had scaled far worse heights, and this was a piece of cake. He was dressed in his usual black turtleneck and trousers, this one with a little blue pin on it. His blazer hung on one shoulder, and he looked like he had had a long evening.

“What’s gotten you all knotted?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Him,” Aemond replies, running his hands through his hair, very uncharacteristic of him, and you are thoroughly worried.

“Is he dead?” You ask.

“Not yet,” He sighs, now having messed up his silken hair. “The doctor only gave him a dose for the pain - Aegon says we should just finish the job. Mum keeps stopping him, saying she still needs him.”

“He has a powerful name,” You placatingly say. “She is a smart woman, you should heed her advice. Perhaps there is something she is not telling even you.”

“They wouldn’t let her take his place,” He says, staring into your eyes. “Even though she is the one doing the actual work since he fell sick.”

“There’s no use pondering over something that we have no control over,” you say, hesitating a little before holding his arm. You caress it in a show of support, of comfort, unsure if you were crossing a boundary. He only sighs deeply, so you gently squeeze his arm. “Come on, it’s not worth wasting your mind over. Let’s go for a walk. I am sure Vhagar and Coco could use some time out.”

“Mmh,” he hums, walking out the training room, with you hot on his heels.

Vhagar is very glad to see you and Coco, smelling and licking your face when you bend over to greet her. “I’m happy to see you too buddy,” you say, voice higher than normal. “Good girl,” you say, scratching her head.

Coco, your german shepherd practically tackles Aemond in his eagerness to play, leaving brown and black hair all over his pristine clothes. “Beautiful Coco,” he coos, scratching Coco’s side and face as the dog proceeds to slather him in affection. “Who’s a good boy? That’s right Coco. Good boy,”

“Let’s go for a walk,” you tell the dogs, and neither of them can stop wagging their tails as they sniff each other up.

You are out in the giant lawn, with the dogs running around freely as you and Aemond walk barefoot on the grass to release the tension. “Something bothering you still?” you ask, looking straight ahead.

“He is going to die soon with her named as his heiress.” Aemond says. “And she will make our lives hell.”

“Well, she can’t poison you that’s for sure,” you say. “If she tries to put a bullet through any of you I will kill her.”

“You can kill her before she has time to blink.” Aemond adds. “But it’s not her that’s the problem. It’s my uncle.”

“I will not hesitate,” you promise, more to yourself than to him. You hate Daemon Targaryen with everything inside you. You are going to be his torturous death.

“I know,” He says.

You walk in silence for a long time, watching your dogs play in the grass, chasing each other, chasing you. You played with the dogs until it was time for dinner, you parted ways at Otto’s floor and you went to clean up after being covered in mud. You changed into black sweatsuit and went up to Alicent’s room. Lately, you had been joining them for dinner now that Viserys was sick.

The sound of your name makes you look up, Alicent’s big brown eyes looking at you expectantly. “Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

“I am afraid that diplomatic dinners aren’t an area of my expertise,” You say.

“The Boltons would be invited too,” Otto adds. Everyone at the table stilled, eyeing you and Otto.

“It’s okay,” you say.

The early hours of the night blended into midnight, as you sat cross legged in front of Aemond, studying the chessboard closely. Helaena braided her hair to your left, while Aegon and Daeron acted as referees, commenting about the game and distracting you. You made a mental note of applying this tactic in your training - you couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything.

With both of your queens dead, and only one rook, bishop and pawn left on your side and his two pawns, one knight and one bishop, the game came to a stalemate after about an hour and a half of playing.

“But both your kings are still there!” Daeron protests. “It was so interesting!”

“And one move and the kings are dead.” Aemond says. “This game is never about the king. There’s no use of a king who is dead.”

“Then why does the king have this much power?” Daeron asks.

“The King has no power.” You tell him. “His only aim is to stay alive. The most powerful piece in the game is the Queen.”

“Why is the Queen more powerful?” the Little Targaryen asks.

“Because the game setters were smart and knew who held actual power,” Aegon suddenly comments, rolling over to his back. “Unlike the people now,”

“When did you grow a brain?” Helaena asks, laughing.

“Mom wouldn’t let me poison him,” he says.

“Why can’t we get a will printed and get it signed by him?” Daeron suggests. “I’m not sure he has a week on him.”

“I’ll talk to mom about it,” Aemond says, his hair dishevelled. He calls your name, the sound smooth on his tongue. “Can you spy on our lovely half-sister for us?”

You nod, and Vhagar gets up from her place at the side of the bed and lays her head on Aemond’s lap, asking for pets. He absently scratched her head, saying, “I heard whispers of Daemon getting a new bloodhound,” he exhaled deeply, closing his eye. “Savage beast, called Vermithor. Already been in service for eight years.”

“Okay,” you say. Feeling eyes dancing between the two of you, you reach for the chess pieces and start to pack them up.

There is a knock at the door, and Daeron rushes to open the door, to reveal Criston Cole, Alicent Hightower’s personal bodyguard. Some even called him the shield to the Mafia Queen.

He was basically these kids’ father, teaching them everything they knew about the fights in the mob and how bad it truly gets. He had taught you too - to fight - first to defend, then to attack. He is dressed smartly, in a black shirt and grey trousers, and his curly hair is trimmed to stay off his eyes.

“Boss wants to see you,” Cole tells them. He always calls Alicent Boss, even though the title was reserved for Viserys. “Y/N, you come with me.”

While your friends go to see their mother, you leave the Red Keep with Criston in his Mercedes SUV, one of the finest cars you have seen. You had come to the Red Keep in a similar car, only it was more expensive being the Consigliere Hightower’s. He tells you that the “Boss” Viserys wants to have a celebratory dinner with his whole family - Rhaenyra and her whole family included - this saturday, two nights later.

“Boss wants you to be there,” Cole says. “She wants you to be a part of the family too, and needs you to dress formally for the occasion.”

You nod, acknowledging his words. Your cold heart flutters at the mere thought of Alicent thinking of you as family, you deeply loved and respected her.

You know Jacaerys Velaryon, Rhaenyra’s eldest bastard. You know that he is a freshman in King’s Landing University, majoring in communications. You have seen him driving his Porsche around campus and getting incredibly flustered around intimidating women, and you planned to meet him on campus today.

“I’ll be sure to make this dinner so entertaining,” You had told Aemond as the both of you drove to the campus in his Rolls Royce. Your car, a Range Rover courtesy of Otto Hightower, had gone into service, and seeing you at the morning class at the same time, you had decided to go with him. You had dressed a little differently than usual today, in black leather skirt and a matching red blouse. Aemond had laughed when he first saw you in a white skirt, saying you looked like a Christmas decoration. It was then you had changed into the black skirt, glaring at him the entire time.

He chuckled again, saying, “If you dress like you had in the morning, I am sure I’d be entertained.” but then turning serious, he asks, “What are you going to do?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” You say, playfully batting your eyelashes.

“Do you think they’ll agree?” He asks.

“Oh, I think they already have.” You say. “Alicent sent me to get fitted for a dress. It’s a big deal, Aemond. She’s presenting me as a part of the family.”

“You are a part of the family,” He insists. “I know we barely spoke during the awkward puberty phase - ”

“We started talking in college,” you said, shaking your head.

“But mother deeply cares for you,” he ignores your remark. “And so do we. When you first came Daeron suggested either Aegon or I should get married to you so you’d never leave.”

“What?” you laugh again, imagining the scene.

“It took a lot of convincing on Mum and Cole’s part to tell him that you were here to stay,” He confesses. “See, the point is, you are our friend and presenting you as family at the dinner is only natural.” He smirks a little as he glances at you once before refocusing on the road.

You part ways at the parking, with him going to the analog electronics lab while you head to the lecture hall. At break time, you went near the basketball court to sit and pretend to do your assignment. Discreetly keeping track of Jacaerys’ location on your phone, you stand up once he is too close and pretend to bump into him.

“I am so sorry!” you apologise in a shrill voice, as you bend over to gather your book and notebook. “I didn’t see.”

“I'm sorry too,” Jacaerys says, then stills as he takes in appearance. “Wow,” he mutters. “Sorry,” he says again, coy this time.

You smile at him after you put your stuff in your bag, then look at him again.

“I have never seen you around,” he decides.

“It’s a big campus,” you say. “Maybe you saw me and didn’t remember.”

“You aren’t forgettable,” He says, now holding out his hand. “I am Jacaerys Velaryon. You can call me Jace. Communications,”

“Y/N,” you tell him, shaking his hand. “Information Technology and Cyber Security,”

“That’s a mouthful,” he says, letting go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say it,” You say, getting around to leave.

“Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?” He asks.

“Maybe?” You say, turning back to him with a mysterious smile.

On your way back, Aemond asks, “How was your day, my little Christmas decoration?” and bursts out laughing. You smack him on his firm bicep, contempt filled in your glare.

“Was good until now,” you said, huffing.

That had been Thursday afternoon. Now it was Friday evening and you sat in the cafe, drinking your coffee as you finished the algorithms assignment. You knew Jacaerys is here after class, and you can see him quickly approaching on your screen, but you pretend that the notes you had made were interesting.

“Fancy seeing you here, miss Y/N,” Jacaerys says, sitting in the empty chair in front of you. “You are quite the sight,”

“I am here a lot of times,” You say. “You are a rare sight.”

You answer his questions, then pretending to run late for a class, you hurriedly leave, sighing. Communications majors spoke too much for your taste. (Sorry guys)

The first thing Aemond notices at the dinner table is that you’re missing. His mother asks him about your whereabouts, but he has no answer, because he hasn’t seen you since the morning. Everyone is there - his annoying nephews, his step sister, Daemon and his girls from his first wife. He hates it, hates this so much. Otto, Alicent and Rhaenyra sit in the middle of the table, with a chair between them for Viserys. Beside the empty chair, sits Rhaenyra and for once they are amicably speaking and he can see flashes of the infamous friendship.

He sits at one end of the table, the chair beside him empty. Daeron sits beside Otto, and in front of them sit Aegon and Helaena. Jace and his stepsisters sit in front of Viserys, Rhaenyra and Daemon. Luke and Joffrey sit on the opposite end of the table, facing Aemond. He despises it, wants to get up and leave at this instance, but he knows he cannot. He watches as the nurses help his father into his chair between Alicent and Rhaenyra, the old man’s blind side to him.

“My family,” he says with effort. “I am so happy to see you all here,” he looks over the table once, lingering on the empty chair beside Aemond. He looks at Otto and Alicent, inquiringly, “Where is she?”

“Cole has gone to fetch her,” Alicent adds. She seems displeased at Viserys’ interest in you, and Aemond doesn’t blame her. The siblings share a look as the food begins to be served. Servants line the table, turning up plates and cutting out pieces from the lamb served for dinner.

From his seat, the door to the dining hall is visible, and he abruptly stands up on seeing you with Cole. He thinks you look magnificent in the off-shoulder dark green dress you wear and the diamond earrings match you - you are a gem among stones.

Everyone turns in the direction of his movement, as he gently takes your hand and escorts you to the two empty chairs at the end of the table, pulling out the chair for you and helping you sit. He doesn’t know why he is doing this, but it feels natural. His siblings, mother and grandfather watch him with mild interest, while his step-sister’s family is unable to hide their surprise.

Jace’s shock and following disapproval is thinly veiled when you look at him. Aemond fights off a smirk and meets your eyes, lifting your hand again to plant a kiss on it. Alicent narrows her eyes at the action, but stays quiet. Jace almost drops his fork, earning curious glances from everyone.

Heartstopping, Aemond thinks the moment his lips touch your soft hand.

Viserys says your name, smiling at you with his rotten teeth. Aemond, Aegon and Helaena cannot help but glare daggers at him when he says, “It’s so good to have you amongst us, even if I am sure my Consigliere keeps you happy.”

The implication isn’t missed by those in attendance, earning more raised brows. Poor, pathetic Jace seems crushed, and Aemond finally understands the entertainment that you had promised him and he presses his curved lips together in a half smirk. He admires your profile as you shyly smile at Viserys, not saying anything. He motions the servants, and they quickly serve you.

Thank you, you mouth to him with a tiny smile before you start.

Rhaenyra and Daemon eye you with interest, trying to gauge your role in the family. You give them nothing, avoiding to utter any sound. The silence is tense and Aemond looks at Daeron and Otto, then at Helaena and Aegon, all of them quietly looking at their plates. On this side of Viserys, only Alicent is the one making any conversations, asking Rhaenyra about her health, the child she was about to have, about Jace, Luke and Joffrey, about Rhaena and Baela.

Aemond understood his mother’s diplomacy now, listening to how his step-sister gloated at the opportunity, going on and on about how brilliant her sons were, how Baela and Rhaena were the top of their class. Aemond listened carefully, trying to remember all the details she left. When the conversation turned boring - about Rhaenyra’s pregnancy, he tuned them out, instead asking the question that was itching the back of his brain.

Aemond turned to you, and you leaned toward him as he leaned closer to your ear, whispering so quietly that his curved lips barely moved, “Why were you so late?” he could smell your perfume, so you. It was a mild smell, but tingled his brain to the point that he couldn’t forget it.

You d0n’t say anything, but motioned at your beautiful dress. He frowns but he notices that your hand was hidden in a pocket, and your elegant hand slowly came out of it, revealing a wicked blade - it is small, hidden but dangerous. The smile on your face is just as wicked, if not worse so. It is tearing through his heart and making him bleed to himself, but he cannot do anything but let it cut through him.

No one makes a toast, except for Viserys’ ill-executed attempt at the beginning, which you had missed. The smug Luke - the teenage smugness not yet leaving him - stopped smirking at him once you were seated. You were clearly not a Targaryen and you weren’t a Hightower either, yet you were here sitting on the only-family dinner table beside him as Viserys made that lewd remark about you and his Grandfather. He ignores it, as he normally does, used to it by now.

When you had first come home with his grandfather, he had been so young - having just turned fourteen. You looked to be about the same age as him then and you barely spoke, the only times he had heard you speak was either with Otto or Alicent. He was so confused seeing you, this sad, angry looking mysterious girl who never talked to him, but was now staying in his house and occasionally joined his family for dinners. Then gradually, you started talking to Helaena and the little Daeron, who seemed to be the only one able to bring a smile to your melancholic eyes.

The first time you ever addressed him, you had asked, “Have you taken your pain killers?” Your voice had been gruff from disuse. He had nodded at your question, unable to keep his fine eye open for too long without tearing up. Then you had caressed his forehead, carefully avoiding the stitches that covered most of his face, your hands gentler than he had imagined. “It will take time to heal,” you said.

“I’ll be permanently scarred.” He had said through the pain.

“But the pain will go away with time.” your hand was still on his forehead, gently caressing. His muscles relaxed a little and the pain was soothed just a bit.

Any interaction that you had had following that had been just like that - quick and to the point. But you had stood there silently holding his hand when the doctors undid the stitches and he asked to have a sapphire put in his empty eye socket instead of the usual marble. You had helped the nurse bandaging his eyes with your delicate hands, careful of his good eye. For weeks you had left tiny notes on his door, reminding him to take his medicines and apply the ointments the doctor had given.

The first actual conversation you had was before the first day of university, back in the first semester, when you realised that you had more than a few subjects in common - Applied Maths, Physics and environmental science. You had a terrible cold with your running nose and were unfit to drive anywhere. Cole was busy, so he had offered to drive you to the doctor’s instead.

“Thank you,” you had said, cleaning your nose with the tissue. Two boxes lay on your lap - a clean tissue one and a dump. “You are wasting time with me when you have to prepare for uni.”

“That’s fine, I am sure KLU will be fine without me for one more day.” He had said, concerned at the way your nose was turning a carrot red like a reindeer. “You don’t look like you’d be though.”

You let out a wet sneeze into the tissue and dumped it, your bin-box filling more rapidly than he had imagined. It was difficult for you to explain to the doctor with your runny nose, so you mumbled something incoherent to the doctor and Aemond translated your words for him. The doctor gave him a course of antibiotics and paracetamol in case you got a fever during the night. You blew your nose once again, only to start sniffing. The doctor then advised you to drink a tea concoction and regularly steam yourself to free that nose blockade.

Aemond had ordered you to stay with him that entire day, bringing you hot water, soup and tea whenever the cold got bad. It was then that he had asked you about yourself - your favourite colour, the way you liked your tea, and that you preferred coffee in the late afternoon rather than a strong tea, and that you had started learning about computer systems and were learning seamless hacking. It was then he heard from where exactly Otto had picked you up, suddenly seeing his grandfather with new-found respect. He never got to know why he picked you up, only knowing the reason Viserys thought wasn’t true. He learned that you had first spilled someone’s blood at the tender age of twelve - when an insistent member of the mafioso wanted to bed you against your wishes with the money dropped at the Gentleman’s Club owner’s feet, but you simply refused to lay with the old man, going as far as hitting him with the metal lamp in the room till he passed out.

You spoon clunks loudly, and Aemond looks at you to find an expression so murderous it would terrify the ghosts back to their graves. You rapidly blinked, forcing yourself to stay calm, but there was too much tension in your posture. Your fist is clenched tightly on your lap, the skin stretched over your knuckles. He gently reaches for your clenched fist, and you startle, turning to him with glazed eyes. Even the way you gulp down the water is angry.

“I am not feeling well,” your voice is heard on the table for the first time. You brush off his hand, yours being cold and clammy and his concern sky-rockets. “Thank you for the dinner. Excuse me, please.”

“Oh, did something upset your stomach, sweet girl?” Alicent asks, big brown eyes filled with concern. “Drink loads of water before you sleep.”

“Maybe, I will.” You quickly say, and push away from the table. Aemond wants to run after you, leg itching to stand up.

Aegon, Helaena and Daeron pointedly look at him, and he finds the courage to get up. He calls out your name, but you are rushing out of the room, him hot at your heels. Something about it felt off, and he wonders what it exactly is that triggers your anger. He is chasing after you, even as you take the stairs instead of the lift, even as you hurriedly take off your heels at the second landing practically sprinting down the black marble staircase. And Aemond picks up his pace too, following you to your quarters, your back to him as your breaths become more violent.

“Y/N!” He calls, but you don’t answer, taking in furious breaths as you stare up at the ceiling. “What’s wrong?”

It's so quiet down here, he can clearly hear your panting breaths, the way you sniff loudly as if you are crying. His heart breaks when he hears you sob, reaching out to you by instinct as you begin to fall to your knees. He holds you as you start crying, both of you sitting on the cold marble floor, his arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you to his chest as you grab onto him like your life depends on it. He cannot see your tears, for your back is pressed against his chest, but his sleeve is soon wet with your tears and he cannot help but plant a light kiss to your forehead, hand running comforting circles on your hip as you continue wailing.

“I don’t know why!” you cry out through your tears. “I cannot sit at the same table as him. I cannot stand him! I hate him so much!”

“Who are you talking about darlin’,” Aemond softly asks, cheek resting on your head. “Should I bring out the revolver? Give me a name and I’ll put a bullet through their head. Make an example of what happens to people who make my girl cry.”

“I’ll do it.” you say, voice sharp even through the tears. “I want to crush his head with my bare hands. I want to suffocate him and make him suffer before I let him die.”

The hand not holding you comes up to your face, wiping away the tears staining your cheeks. Your shaking, eyes still pouring tears. “I’ll kill him so painfully,” you promise, but it is to yourself. “I’ll make his death so horrible that his coming generations will be terrified of me. I want to be their worst nightmare.”

“You certainly will be, darlin’,” He says, kissing the top of your head again. “You have to tell me though - ”

“I can still feel his hands on me!” You cry out again, turning in Aemond’s grasp to face him. Your hands on his thighs, and you look up at him with dark, tear filled eyes and tear stained cheeks. He hates that you look so broken, but a dark corner of his heart thinks you are so pretty, so pretty with tears in your eyes, he hates himself for it, but he is helpless. It just wants those tears to be that of pleasure, not this ache you are feeling. “Sometimes, when I sleep, I can still hear myself crying at him to stop, but he doesn’t. He never stopped.” Your voice is small, vulnerable.

Your hands now tightly grip his narrow waist, nails digging sharply into his flesh. “You can’t understand. I want to make him beg for me to kill him, to finally have mercy on him and let his pathetic life go.” You’re crying into Aemond’s chest now, his arms holding you as close as he can. His arms are wrapped around you in a tight hold, large hands on your sides leaving absent touches. “I want him to bleed as I once have.” Your words hold the promise of a cruel death, and it is music to him.

“Whoever it is that hurt you,” Aemond says, gently rocking you in his arms. “I’ll be right by you as you give them the punishment that they deserve for hurting my girl.”

“They deserve to be punished, don’t they?” your voice is small as you ask for assurance, but the sob that rocks through you is violent, and his grip tightens. “All of them - they were terrible!” you cry into him, and his shirt is wet with your tears, cold against his burning heart. “They took me from… I had a father and a mother…” you say, sounding like a lost little child. His heart breaks a little more as you speak, “I think… I think I had a baby brother. I think I did… I can’t remember! I cannot remember my family, it’s all their fault. They stole me from my home!” you wail.

Aegon is in your room, but you don’t look up, you can’t. You are unaware of your surroundings, except for the smell of leather and limes that envelopes you. Aemond discreetly shakes his head, and Aegon stops whatever words were forming on his tongue. He sits down next to both of you, enveloping you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. “You will have your revenge, sweet girl.” Aegon’s deep voice is comforting. “We will make sure that anyone who has ever hurt you pays.”

The older Targaryen smells of the wine you drink when you are glum and the combination of those comforting scents lulls you into a sleep-like trance. Your eyes are burning, and you tightly hold on to Aemond for any semblance of reality, but you are quickly falling away from it.

When you don’t show up to the training sessions the next morning, the four siblings are concerned. Rhaenyra and her family had been escorted out after the seemingly peaceful dinner, not allowed to stay after Otto and Alicent had learnt of your… outburst. They are worried for you, and Cole doesn’t stop his kids when they insist on checking up on you. He follows them up to your quarters, and the five of them find you curled up on your bed, shivering and burning up with a fever.

Cole immediately calls Alicent and rings up a doctor, your skin is dulled from the fever and you barely make any noise except grunts and groans of ache. Your face is puffy from the fever and your cheeks are stained with tears, lips chapped raw.

Alicent is very concerned, nibbling on her nails as the doctor examines you, her worry mirroring onto her children. “What happened to Y/N, Mum?” Little Daeron asks. “Did the dinner upset her?” While he wasn’t too young to understand what had happened to you, he certainly had been then, not understanding your strange melancholy and anger. But he had always been your little sunshine.

“Maybe, the doctor will tell you.” She speaks with a forced smile.

“She was crying so much, wailing.” Aemond tells her. “I don’t think it’s the food that upset her. Once she is good enough to talk I will take the names.”

“I cannot think of any punishment that would suit them.” Helaena says. “It would be too easy and honourable of death for them if we kill them.”

“Not the kind they deserve.” Aegon adds, his voice bitter. “Aemond is right. We need to make examples out of them. No one, no one hurts our precious Y/N.”

“She’s been promised the life of the Boltons.” Otto adds, having sat silently this whole time. “She will have her revenge once she is ready to take it.”

“My girl wants to terrorize them to the coming generations,” Aemond added, a sinister smirk turning his curved lips.

Helaena raises her brow at his endearment, but doesn’t comment on it, instead sighing, “She is going to raise hell,” she just says. “And look amazing while doing it.”

All of them rise together when the doctor exits her room, looking perplexed. “There is no sign of any infection,” he says. “Or any injury or any poison that could cause the fever. Perhaps it is exhaustion,” he thinks for a moment before adding, “It does seem like it’s a psychogenic fever. Something or someone triggered a stressful or traumatic event for her, and this is her body’s response.”

“Oh gods,” Alicent sighs, holding her hands together in front of her. “Will she be fine?”

“Maybe she just needs to sleep it off.” He says. “Do give her paracetamol when she wakes up, after she’s eaten something. You must speak with her about it.”

“Thank you so much, Doc.” Alicent says, and Cole leads the doctor back outside.

When you wake up, head spinning even as you lay on your bed, you groan softly at your stiff body, recognising your little sunshine even through the hazy vision. You croak out his name, tongue feeling swollen and a horrible taste in your mouth.

“I was so worried!” you hear Daeron say through a bubble of cotton, and reach out to him. “Everyone was so worried. You sure know how to give us all a scare!”

You tell him that your head is spinning, and he brings you water and props up your pillows to help you sit up, already having placed a chair for you to sit in front of the bathroom sink. The not-so-little little ball of sunshine helps you brush your teeth and scrape the horrid taste off your tongue, then washes your face and helps you back to your bed. You notice how much taller he has grown, for you can still remember when he barely reached your shoulders. Now you are leaning against him, and he is a head taller than you. He’s still shorter than Aemond and Aegon, closer in height to Aegon.

“Look at you, acting all like a grown-up man.” You sigh, feeling a lot better now that you have washed your face and rid the horrible taste.

“You had us on edge.” He complains. “The doctor came to see you, and he told us to keep you well fed and rested. Tell me, what bothered you so much that you feel sick?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, little boy.” You tell him, weakly pinching his cheek. He’s losing his baby face fast, slowly gaining his elder brothers’ signature cheekbones.

“Aemond said you were crying all night.” Daeron’s big violet eyes are full of concern, and you can feel a wave of sadness all over again. “I want to help you.”

“You can’t,” You sigh, falling against the pillows. “Only I can help myself.”

When you’ve eaten, taken the medicine and rested for a good couple of hours does Alicent permit the rest of her kids to see you, leading them all in. She sits beside you, checking you for any remnants of the fever, kissing your forehead in relief. Otto follows his daughter and grandkids, sitting on the armchair by the window.

Aemond sits by your feet, one of his large hands on your calf and the other one on his thigh. Looking at him, you want to cry all over again - he just looks so sad - you want to hold him and thank him and apologise and kiss him all over because he brought you so much comfort and safety.

Daeron is looking at you over his mother’s shoulder, smiling at you. You smile despite yourself, and resist the urge to pinch his rapidly disappearing baby cheeks. Helaena and Aegon sit on the other side of your legs, with Coco resting herself on Aegon’s lap as her head lay on Helaena’s. And your heart swells because you love this family so much, you cannot imagine yourself without them.

“How are you feeling?” Alicent asks, her voice soft as the hand caressing your head.

“Better now that I have been fed,” you chuckle, voice nasal. The crying last night didn’t help you at all. “But I have been better.”

“My sweet girl,” Alicent inhales deeply, finding the words to speak. “Tell me what torments your heart, and mind?”

You look away from her, focusing your gaze on the hand Aemond has on your calf, and he squeezes it reassuringly. You take a couple of deep breaths. “It’s nothing,” You say in the nasal voice, trying your best to sound detached. “Some horrid memories came back, and I was not strong enough to fight them.”

“It was Daemon, was it not?” Otto speaks, words falling over you like a wet blanket.

Your heart beats faster, threatening to burst out of your chest and you can feel your gaze harden against your will. You clench your fists, sharp nails digging into your palms, and Coco whimpers, sensing your discomfort. He rouses from Aegon’s lap to rest his head on your thighs, licking your hand. “Good boy, Coco,” you coo at him, caressing his head.

“Was he -” Otto starts, but you cut him off before he finishes that question. “Yes,” His face hardens, and you can see him for the Consigliere that he is. If he was your boss, you’d be terrified of crossing him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You say, sensing the tension in the room. “I have had enough of that as it is. I want to go out.” You look into everyone’s eyes pleading. “Please?” Your gaze lingers on Aemond longer than necessary, and blink away.

It is funny how all of them immediately responded by agreeing with you, and Helaena pushed all of her brothers out with Otto and Alicent and helped you dress up in a fresh sweatsuit and wrapped you in a fluffy muffler, going all the way of being the elder sister you never had. Satisfied with your clothes, she gets to untangle your hair as she asks, “What’s going on between you and Aemond?”

“Is something going on between me and Aemond?” You ask, confused.

“What was that whole stunt at dinner last night?” Helaena teased, and you can feel yourself getting hot all over again for a very different reason. “Let me be a gentleman and pull a chair out for you, kissing your hand, hm?”

“Oh, I was just trying to tease Jacaerys.” You grin. “Aemond getting sweet revenge from his little nephews.”

“And Jacaerys has a little-boy crush on you?” Helaena laughs.

“Oh, I think it's a lot more than a boy-crush,” You shudder, and she smacks you into stillness as she combs through your messy hair.

“Aegon and Aemond would have his hands before they let him touch you,” She says. “You should have seen how angry they were last night. I was too - you’re important for us, sweet Y/N - mother sees you as she sees us.”

“And I love her dearly,” You say. “You know I’d die to keep you safe.”

“I don’t think the world would be able to take it if you died.” Helaena says as she starts braiding your hair. “I know I wouldn’t, my brothers wouldn’t. Aemond would storm hell and fight Death to bring you back.”

“That’s a stretch,” You say, reaching for the tissue to blow your nose.

“I know my little brother well,” She pulls your head back by the hair, tapping two fingers on your forehead. “And I know you well too. Never lie to me again.”

“No lies have left my mouth,” you tell her.

“I am not going to correct you,” Helaena says. “You’ll have to figure it out,”

You roll your eyes at her, done with your hair. You put Coco in his harness and leash, and went down to find the silver-haired brothers waiting for you with their hounds. Helaena follows you with hers, Dreamfyre. Aegon’s bloodhound is called Sunfyre, and he has the most beautiful coat of all the dogs. Daeron named his Tessarion, after some myth you couldn’t quite recall - she was young, only three. All the five dogs are ecstatic to be together, with Coco almost flying off the harness as you yell at him to slow down.

“You look positively charming,” Aegon comments, taking Coco’s harness from you.

You thank him, arms around yourself as you start walking to the park. It is a lazy stroll, and you don’t speak, enjoying the subtle wind on your face and the quiet conversation the siblings fall into. This is peace, you think. This is what peace feels like. You gaze at the sky, a little annoyed by the building that occasionally blocked your view of the twilight sky, mind void of any thoughts.

Once at the park, the dogs are left to their fun, and you continue your lazy stroll, hands in the pockets of your sweatpants, warming up. Aegon jogs up to you, bumping his shoulder into yours, nearly shoving you to the ground. You shove him back, grunting, “You little shit,”

“There she is, my precious Y/N,” He says, laughing as he pulls you close by the shoulder. He is warm, and you appreciate his sweet-wine smell. “I do believe you are perfectly fine again.”

“I think so,” You mumble.

“You do know that you tell me if anyone hurts you?” Aegon says, sounding as serious as he gets. “I’d poison them without a second thought.”

“I’d prefer if you keep your toxicology prowess a secret,” You say, patting his chest. “If anyone dares to cross me, I can deal with them myself.” You look up at him, all serious, and ask, “Have you ever killed a man?”

“Not that I can think of,” He says. “I have seen men being killed though. Why do you ask? Have you?”

“Mmh,” you say, looking straight ahead, thinking of the day Otto had taken you with him. You had been a persistent pest in his hair, demanding to leave that hellhole with him. When the guards had tried to stop Otto, he had pulled out his trusty revolver, but the guards merely threw it away. The experienced Otto had fought them viciously, even barehanded - and you bit your captor’s arm, hard - till you tasted the gross tang of his blood, and lunged for the dropped revolver, shooting the four guards down with six bullets. You had missed two shots, but managed to hit the rest four in delicate organs - the head and the chest, watching in shock as they bled to death. Otto had then snatched you away from the bloody mess, your hands and teeth stained in blood. He had given you his handkerchief to clean your arms, and you could still see the bloody cloth clearly in your head.

“Where’re you lost, sailor?” Aegon’s deep voice sounds, his chest vibrating with his voice on your arm. “Thinking about your kills?”

“Yes,” you sigh, leaning into him. Your voice sounds nasal, and you hate yourself for it, but you cannot help it.

“Are you crying again, sweet girl?” His voice is gentle, as if he is talking to a little kid, and your eyes water up with hot tears again, even after draining your tear ducts last night. “Tell me what’s wrong, we can help you.”

Coco runs to you, forgetting his playmates on sensing your awful mood. He is by your side in an instant, licking your thigh over your sweatpant, and you are so grateful for him, you coo at him, telling him that you are fine, that he is such a good boy taking care of you. “Good boy Coco, I love you.”

You sit down in the middle of the field on the grass, with Coco resting on your lap, licking your hand and wrist. Aegon squats to your level, caressing your back as you fight back your tears. A tall shadow covers you, and your glistening eyes find Aemond looking down at you, concern filled in his one eye. The sapphire gleams in the moonlight, and you think he looks beautiful.

“Darlin’,” Aemond says, his voice music to your ears. He gets down on his knees, still towering over you and you want to throw yourself to him but you are paralyzed - unable to get your body to move. Coco gets up from your lap, whimpering at Aemond. “You’re safe now,” he says, his cold, large hand resting on your warm cheek. “You’re with us now, no one can harm a hair on your head.”

You lean into his touch, the comfort and safety he brought you, and all you can think is of how you want to thank him, apologise to him and kiss him all over because he has started to feel like home, that he has now become a part of you than just your friend and college going companion. Your breaths are violent and stuttering and your eyes burn, but you swallow your tears down, Aemond’s cold hand on your cheek and Aegon’s comforting rubs on your back grounding you to reality.

“I am fine now,” You manage after a moment, voice stiller than you felt. You inhaled deeply once, twice, clearing your blocked nose a little. “I’m fine,”

“No you’re not,” Aemond decides, sitting down with his legs crossed in front of you. Your gaze is fixed on Coco’s brown paws, and you don’t see the look the brothers share before Aegon kisses the top of your head and leaves. “You’ve got to tell me what’s been bothering you, darlin’, I’ll find a way to make it better.”

“Revenge will make me feel better.” You say, sorrow replaced with anger. “I want blood.”

“You will have blood, of each and every one of them,” Aemond promised, hand under your chin, making you look into his dark gaze, his one eye focused on you. The sapphire in his eye socket gleams wickedly, and your hand reaches to caress the scar running on his beautiful face. He flinches at the contact, eye closing momentarily before it tracks your movement.

His face is cold to the touch, and you wonder if the cold hurts him like it did six years ago. You’re on your knees and toes, leaning forward to him, the scarred side of his face and your dry lips touch the bottom of his scar, onto the hollow of his cheek. “Thank you,” you whisper against his cheek, eyes fixated on the curvature of his parted mouth. You’re close enough to him that you can feel the heat of his breath on your neck, and you want to kiss him. You know you will regret it later, but you want to touch his pretty lips with yours. You wonder how his mouth will feel against yours, would it be teasing and gentle like his words or intense like his gaze. You don’t realise that you are reaching forward, not until his hands firmly grab your shoulders, holding you in place. You’re so close - you can feel his breath on your mouth, and it smells of citrus, like an orange or lime.

“I’ll let you kiss me when you are thinking of kissing me,” His voice is low, reverberating. “Not when you are thinking of your pain. Talk to me, my love. Tell me what has been bothering my girl. Then I’ll kiss you - if you’ll have all of me. But I’ll only kiss you when you want to kiss me, not looking for a distraction. Okay?”

“Mhm hmm,” You say, not looking away from him. You let yourself fall into his arms, and he is there to catch you, holding you against his chest as you close your eyes, feeling safe. There is a safety that being in his warm embrace brings which you don’t feel anywhere, not even with your computers. You are content with the silence, the rise and fall of his chest against your back, the press of his mouth on the top of your head, and your mumble, “Will you carry me home if I fall asleep?”

“Of course, darlin’,” He whispers, but it is carried away by the wind that lulls you into a heavy slumber.

Tags: @dollfaceyourfear @ladymoon666 @chainsawsangel @esmaada @amadwomanrambles @devils-blackrose @darthgamer74

Edit: I am so sorry i forgot to add you two here!

@p0rnstargirl @aerysa-targaryen

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen x reader #daeron targaryen x reader #mafia!targaryens #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen

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fclearcove · 2 months

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💬

Many years ago, as a small child...

It was the early evening. Finn was curled on his father's lap, their tails intertwined, staring in fascination as they flipped through an old photo album, and his papa softly explained the memory behind each picture.

It was an activity Finn loved. It was his own story time right before bed, even if there were not many stories to tell, since most of the album was blank.

As his father rumbled about a particularly difficult hunt, Finn blinked at a picture he did not remember seeing before. In the picture was a stranger. A face that was unfamiliar. A mystery.

Long dark green hair bilowed around a dark green face, turquoise eyes crinkled by a large, mischevious grin full of sharp teeth. A cookie cutter shark with dark green scales and tail. Like him.

"Papa, who's that? He looks like me."

Finn pointed at the photo, and his father followed his direction. There was a brief pause, a pregnant silence that was heavy and rather unexpected to Finn.

"That's your dad." His father murmured, tracing his claw along that frozen, smiling face down to the necklace of teeth hung around the mer's neck.

Finn's chubby face twisted into a confused look. "But... but you're my dad."

"He's also your dad." Said his Papa patiently. "We both are."

"Oh." Finn frowned. "Where is he?"

The long stretch of silence, to long to be a pause, that followed made Finn wonder if he had said something wrong. He stared at his Papa's furrowed brows and glinting amthyst eyes, contemplating apologising, when-

"He's not here anymore, Finn." Said his Papa slowly. There was something off in his voice. Something sad. "He... passed away."

"..." Finn stared at the picture in silence for a while. "What was he like?" He blurted, the burning curiosity about this mystery dad keeping him from being quiet, like he probably should've been.

His papa sighed and tilted his head to stare at the bottled bioluminiscent algae that functioned as a lamp. He didn't answer for a long time, contemplating what to say.

"Morrigan... your dad... was warm and funny, and clever. Far too mischevious for his own good. He was always so passionate and full of life, and such a talented sorcerer..."

Finn tilted his head to the side as his father's gaze turned distant, shifting to stare out the window at something that wasn't there and reaching up to touch his necklace of orca teeth.

"...He was a smooth talker and an utterly hopeless romantic. He was so brilliant and powerful. He was so excited to meet you..." He trailed off and went quiet, frowning a bit.

"He sounds nice." Finn said as earnestly as a six year old could manage.

"Hmm." His Papa murmured, looking at him with a half smile. He still sounded so... sad. "That's one way to put it."

'Don't be sad,' Finn wanted to say. But the words didn't come. Instead, he reached out to take his Papa's hand with his own and squeezed it. That half smile brightened a little, and the squeeze was returned, and the tail coiled around his own loosened its hold.

"...Alright, Finn, time for bed now." His Papa rumbled, starting to lead him towards his bedroom. "It's getting late."

"W-wait!" Finn pawed at the purple shark's arm, eyes wide. "I wanna hear more."

Another pause. Much more light than before. Less... downcast.

"I'll tell you all about him tomorrow." His Papa said softly. "Anything you want to know."

-End

#finn clearcove #silas clearcove #octavinelle #twisted wonderland #twst oc #ask game #writing

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 1 year

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Don't mind me. I'm just going fucking feral over the brand new mystery speedster child.

The brand new mystery speedster child who very pointedly did not say his name (indicating it's a surprise reveal). The brand new mystery speedster child that was powerful enough to power an entire spaceship (indicating that he's a pretty powerful speedforce conduit). The brand new mystery speedster that didn't recognize Kid Flash and Impulse but did recognize Wally West.

(side note: I fucking love how Wally met a small speedster child and just went 'eh fuck secret identities. I don't even know your name yet but you're family now')

Anyway. Purple highlights on his clothes. Looks similar to Bart. This arc deals with Iris and Barry having kids vs not having kids. I kinda think this might be Don Allen if I'm being completely honest.

This also might be Wally and Linda's new baby but the shock at seeing Wally? That's got baby tornado twin written all over it.

This could just be a random speedster child but come on. The aliens who have never been to earth before just happen to have a human? And that human just so happens to be rescued by Bart? And explicitly Bart too. Bart saw a random piece of tech and had what can only be described as a moment and then he just randomly decided that he wanted it and he was taking it.

I can buy that Bart sensed the speedforce and was compelled to take the 'battery' and that's it. But Ace had no reaction. No. That's not a normal reaction. That's a kid subconsciously recognizing their dad's energy signature and struggling to identify what they're sensing. That's Bart and Don.

#add on to that the fact that the kid has no fucking clue who Bart is. Which. YEAH. Don kinda isn't supposed to know that at all #especially not as a kid #and also Adams placed Bart in the future at the beginning of this run. tracking down his father's killer.#so Don has been set up multiple times #there's just no way that his name gets cut off like that and it isn't plot significant #dc #dc comics #the flash #kid flash #impulse #bart allen #ace west #don allen #one minute war

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dmwrites · 1 year

Text

There were many things in the Evermore that went bump in the night. But not many things had the decency to knock.

Shelby had kind of learned to ignore the many things that roamed outside at night- zombies, armor stands, sleepwalking Sausage, sheep, the fog. It was just better to pretend that the spooky noises around her house were just the wind, and put her pillow over her head. However, she’d never had a knock at her door in the middle of the night.

But that is exactly what happened, some misty October night. The knock was crisp, a quirky two-tap kind of thing. Shelby pulled herself out of bed and wrapped a purple robe around herself, wondering who on earth would be so bold as to knock on her door this late at night. Maybe it was one of her friends in trouble, she thought, grabbing her wand. Or maybe it’s Katherine, she then thought, wondering if she should have put on some perfume. Or, it was the academy, they’d found her, she thought as she started to open the door. With all of these conflicting thoughts in her mind, she wrenched open her door to find a mysterious man standing there.

“Uh, hello?” Shelby asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, well hello there!” The man sounded cheerful, giving her a crooked smile and bowing slightly.

“Hi…” Shelby reached in her pocket for her wand. “Do you… want something?”

“Oh, no, it’s more about something you might like.” The man replied in that overly friendly voice that was far too energized for the darkness outside. “If you’d like, I can show you my wares.”

Shelby looked at him for a moment, tired brain slowly catching up until she finally understood. “Oh. You’re like a wandering trader. Except more annoying because you don’t talk in hmm’s. Okay, listen pal, I don’t want what whatever you’re trying to sell me, and I am a witch and will hex you.” She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the man.

The man gasped, but not in fear, rather unabashed excitement. He pulled his dark cloak off his shoulders and revealed deep purple robes. “Oh my gosh! I’m a wizard! I knew that shade of purple robe looked familiar! It’s been- gosh, I can’t remember when I last met a magical folk such as myself! Well, I am so sorry for the facade, you know how it is when trying to make a sale to the mortals. I sell magical crystals, among other things. It is a real pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand, and Shelby hesitantly took it. He shook her hand firmly. “We should take this inside though, there are monsters out here.” He moved past her and into the house.

Shelby blinked rapidly, trying to figure out if she’d ever said he could come in. But he was in now, and settling down at her kitchen table. “Uh… so you’re a wizard?”

“Yes, a traveling one at that.” The man was unpacking some things out of a pocket of his cloak. It looked almost like glass blocks, but even the most colorful of glass didn’t shine in the candlelight like these did. “I sell magical crystals. You name it, I can get a crystal for it. Is there any magic you need, witch… ah, I’m afraid you haven’t told me your name.”

“Shelby.” Shelby replied, closing the front door slowly and leaning against the wall, watching him. “And you are?”

The man chuckled. “Shelby… it’s a wonderful name. You know, Shelby, you should never tell a stranger your name, especially one saying to be magic. You never know what might happen…” He trailed off, tilting his head. Then he chuckled and smiled. “Luckily, I am just a simple traveling salesman wizard, so you have nothing to worry about. My name is Scar.”

“You know- I- I’m a very powerful witch, Scar, so I would suggest that you stop making vague threats at me. You’re on my land, fu- fricker, and I will not be annoyed by any person in my own home.”

“Well, of course.” Scar nodded to her, counting out the glowing crystals with long, nimble fingers. Under the faint glow the crystals and the candles, she could see that his hands were covered with scars, big and small, that traveled under his purple cloak, assumedly traveling the expanse of his body. “I would expect nothing less from a person who lives in such… odd woods. Felt like I was traveling through that mist for days, I’ll tell you that. Such odd things it told me… Now, Shelby, come, sit at the table and tell me… what is it that you need, what you desire?”

Scar steepled his hands, watching Shelby sit. She looked at the things on the table, then back up at Scar.

“I- I don’t even know what these are, Scar. They don’t have names.”

“Oh, but they do!” Scar replied. “Look closer, Shelby. Listen to them. The crystals will speak back to you. You’re like them- magic. We all speak the same language, it’s just some of it is softer then others.”

So she did, leaning in, focusing on the crystal in front of her, a large orange thing. It was faint at first, but got louder as she focused, her senses connecting with the magic encased in the crystal. She felt powerful. Her throat rumbled with a silent yell of triumph, and the euphoria of winning made her smile.

“I feel… courageous.” She said, looking up at Scar.

Scar clapped his hands. “Correct! A courage crystal- you can roar like a lion, speak true and freely without worry. Very good. You may have it, as a gift. Wizard to witch.” He slid the crystal to her. “How about… this one? It’s tough.” He plucked a pink crystal from the pile and placed it in front of her.

She looked down at it, and at once, Katherine came to mind. Swirling memories that were not real of a picnic, of a kiss. Shelby felt breathless, and she let out a breathy laugh. Her cheeks were bright red when she looked back up at Scar.

“Love?”

“Ah, so you already have a special someone in mind.” Scar chuckled. “Yes, a love crystal. Very powerful thing, love is. Take it. Use it well.”

A small red crystal caught her eye next, and she leaned towards it. She felt terror, bright, sudden terror. Could smell blood. There was some kind of heat radiating, no, bubbling, from the crystal. There was a word, it was right on the tip of her tongue. It was-

“That’s enough.” Scar closed his hand around the crystal, abruptly cutting off the things she was feeling. Shelby watching him put the crystal into his pocket.

“What’s a boogeyman?” She asked him.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” Scar said firmly. “But, I think I should be going now.” He swept the rest of the crystals, minus the two in front of Shelby, into his pocket. “I need to go back to my lands now, I think. I’m sure my frien- well, perhaps someone will have noticed that I’m gone.”

The sun was just beginning to rise, and it almost blinded Shelby when Scar opened the front door. He leaned down, retrieving his dark cloak from where he’d left it, crumpled on the front porch. The fog was heavy in the forest, and Shelby joined Scar in looking at it.

“Well, hopefully I can get back without getting too lost.” Scar said, bowing to Shelby once more. “Thank you for letting me in, it was nice to have a friend for a while.” And with that, he walked away, off the path and into the mangrove forest.

Shelby watched him walk into the mist, wondering how lonely a man must have to be to consider a stranger a friend.

#December 14 2022 #fic #Shubble #goodtimeswithscar #last life mention #set in esmp2 #yes the timelines don’t match up but ignore that #long post

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

Can I request The Remarried Empress's cast reacting to a Fem!Reader who has the ability to turn into a monstrous werewolf. She's very much in control of herself, she just happens to be a bit more voracious when she's in that form so as long as she's adequately fed everything's fine.

She rebuffs the Emperor's attempts to make her his mistress, she dodges all of Rashta's attempts to interact, she greets Her Majesty The Empress with the respect deserved of someone with her status, she's cordial around Heinrey, she cares little for Ergi and his schemes.

One day, two strange men appear in the palace; one is badly burnt with his skin stapled together and the other wears a hand on his face. Reader beams and cries for them in joy, giving the man with hands a kiss on his concealed face and the burnt man a sweet kiss on his mismatched lips.

She turns and thanks Her Majesty The Empress for letting her stay before going back to the men as a black portal opens up behind them. A man seemingly made of smoke with glowing yellow eyes stands there, giving those so gracious to give Reader shelter a grateful bow.

With that, it's time to go home.

(I don't know what I'm doing anymore, I haven't slept in awhile; sorry)

This is actually awesome. I love writing for the Remarried Empress, and I love a good crossover

Sovieshu

You were an empress of a distant land that you would constantly tell stories of, and he knew that you being his mistress would not only get him more power, but he did genuinely love you. You, however, despised the idea of being with him. Plus, what he didn’t know was that you were already married.

Then, at Navier’s New Year’s Eve Party, you were hanging around the food table since you were starving. A lycanthrope’s gotta eat. Then, there was a sudden mist that filled the room. He pulled you behind him to make sure that you were out of harm’s way, but was confused when your eyes lit up in joy.

Out of the mist, three men appeared, two of which seemed very angry at Sovieshu while no one could tell what the third was thinking. You ran up to the first two, and they each wrapped their arms around you.

Once the mist cleared, Sovieshu saw them clearly. One guy was made out of mist, one needed some lotion and had a hand on his face, and the last one had purple scars and staples. You placed a kiss on the cheek of the man with the hand on his face, and placed a kiss on the lips of the man with the purple scars. Oh, the Emperor was angry.

Then, you went over to Navier to give her a hug and thank her for the shelter. Kurogiri, the mist man, cleared his throat so that he could give a short speech of thanks to those who gave his Empress proper care.

His Imperial Majesty’s heart shattered as he saw you walking with your husbands (he saw the rings) and butler back through the portal so that you could go home. Before you went through, you sent him a death glare just so he would be thinking about it for years as the last thing you ‘said’ to him.

Rashta

You tried to stay away from her because you were angry at her. If you could, you would wolf out and devour her without a second thought, but you knew that it would only cause stress for Navier. Thus, you refrained… you were tempted multiple times, though.

She was absolutely disgusted at how you continued to wolf (get it?) down the food from the banquet table at the New Year’s Party. However, a mysterious fog started filling the room and a portal started to open. She was about to go to Sovieshu to protect you, but the Emperor had pulled you behind him instead.

Three men appeared out of the mist, and two of them seemed shocked that you were behind His Imperial Majesty, and the other was the one who made the portal. You pushed Sovieshu aside and went up to place a bunch of kisses on the first two guys, and Rashta was so surprised.

The mystery men were repulsive, to say the least. One had a literal hand on his face and looked as though he was being held together by the visible staples. The misty guy was very cordial as he gave you a hug. He whispered something in your ear, and you gave a nod.

You then went over to Navier to hug and thank her for her generous hospitality. You, however, ignored Rashta as well as His Imperial Majesty as you accepted the hands of your (presumed) husbands and walked through the portal.

The young mistress watched as her ‘husband’ sank to the ground in despair, and her feelings of anger and jealousy grew. You had no right to march into their lives and steal the heart of the Emperor that was originally hers. But, you left without a trace.

Navier

Since the two of you were Empresses, you two understood each other, and it blossomed into a great friendship between the two of you. You understood her anger towards Sovieshu, and she was often there to comfort you when her husband wouldn’t stop with his unwanted advances towards you.

She also knew that you were a werewolf, and didn’t judge you for it. You had control over your ‘quirk’, so she needn’t worry about it. Because of this, she didn’t judge you when you stuck to the food table at the Party. But she did hold on to you when mist started filling the room.

Three people emerged from the fog, and you let out a squeal of excitement as you ran into the arms of two of the people. One had a hand on their face and you placed a kiss on their cheek, while the other had visible scars and staples and you placed a kiss on his lips.

While Navier could not tell how the mist guy or the guy with the hand were reacting to this situation, she guessed that their reaction was something akin to the scar man: relieved to have you back. Did this mean you would have to leave?

You walked back over to her, and you gave her a hug and a thank you for the generosity and kindness that she had shown you during your time in the Eastern Empire. You bid her a final farewell as you placed your hands in your lovers’ and walked through the portal back to your Empire.

So that was it… Her husband’s heart shattered, and she could see that Rashta was angry that you stole Sovieshu’s heart, but you were a good friend. A friend that she could actually connect with on a deeper level. Now, she would have to hold it all in again.

Heinrey

He had the chance to meet you at the party, and you were very friendly and cordial towards him. This is where you told him that you already knew of him being a bird since your werewolf side gave you a very animalistic sense of smell.

Mans felt exposed, but it wasn’t your fault. Your powers made you discover his secret, but you promised to keep it so that his plan to get with Navier wouldn’t be thrown out of the window. You even introduced him to the Empress as a sign of goodwill. However, the room started filling with mist.

Two men stepped out of a portal, but there was a man on the other side. They called your name, and you let out tears of happiness as you ran into their awaiting arms. The atmosphere made it feel like they hadn’t seen you in years, maybe decades.

Heinrey didn’t pay too much attention to the mens’ appearances, but rather how you walked up to His Queen to hug her and thank her for all the things she has done for you. This allowed him to get a grasp on how kind Her Imperial Majesty truly was, and he was more in love with Navier.

Then, you held Shigaraki’s and Dabi’s hands as they led you through the portal, completing their mission to rescue their bride. The misty figure lingered on the other side, and he cleared his throat to start speaking.

As Sovieshu had a mental breakdown, Heinrey went to see if Navier was alright. She seemed a bit saddened, so he extended his arm out to her for her to take and seek comfort in. It was a heartwarming gesture for him to do, and he would have to write you a letter somehow for helping him get W rizz.

Kosair

He heard of you through his younger sister because she took you in after finding you in the garden, and he found you very intriguing. So, he stopped by for a short visit and he fell for you so hard and fast. However, you were quick to end it because you had two husbands.

It was as he was strolling with you in said garden that a mist started enveloping the area. He gently pushed you behind him so that he could defend you from whatever was going to appear, but that was no use because your lovers saw him touch you.

If you hadn’t been there to stop Dabi from roasting Kosair alive and Shigaraki from turning him into dust, Navier’s older brother would no longer be alive. You quickly went to your husbands and showered their faces in gentle kisses.

Kosair was heartbroken. He saw the rings upon each of your fingers, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness and emptiness overcame him. You then looked over at him, and walked over to place a kiss upon his cheek as well.

Your General and Lieutenant led you back home through the portal, when the eldest Trovi sibling noticed Kurogiri on the other side. He was a very scary figure, but Kosair felt oddly at-ease. There was no need for any guarding.

"On behalf of the Grand Commander Tomura Shigaraki of the Paranormal Liberation Front and his Lieutenant Dabi of the Violet Regiment, I, Kurogiri, thank you for taking care of our lady, Your Majesty The Empress,” Kurogiri said, then closed the portal.Oh, but what you didn’t know is that Kosair never stopped thinking about you. He couldn’t. You were the first person he ever fell in love with, and you left him. He hoped you were happy, though, back at your old Empire.

#remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #the remarried empress #remarried empress x reader #emperor sovieshu #sovieshu x reader #sovieshu #rashta x reader #rashta #navier trovi x reader #empress navier #navier trovi #navier x reader #navier #heinrey x reader #heinrey #kosair x reader #kosair trovi #kosair

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carefulnowprincess · 2 years

Text

Gif credit goes to the original creator

Bloodlust

Daemon Targaryen x House Cole Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You are a noblewoman of House Cole, married to your husband of five years when a faithful evening you find him dead next to you in your bed. Taken by Prince Daemon Targaryen and swept away and forced into a possible turmoil marriage, are things on the surface as terrible as they seem?

Warnings: Mentions of death, short hair Daemon, Daemon being his usual dick self, mentions of pregnancy, brothel, public nudity, a dabble of ring kink, sexual teasing, cheating, public sex, unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up folks), fingering, praise kink, orgasm denial, an appearance of Caraxes, Daemon is sweet on you and only you

Length: Over 2k

A/N: I am BEYOND FLATTERED at how much this chapter blew up, you're all so amazing and I cannot wait to do more! A huge shout out to @middimidoris for beta reading, they are the blood of my blood as Kahleesi would say. Enjoy! ;)

Please read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2

Four Years Earlier

The laughing, rowdiness, and public nudity of Flea Bottom’s most notorious brothel made you nervous. What is a woman of your status doing here anyway? It’s not like your husband wouldn’t fuck you. Women never get a say what they want, but you were both in the marriage to calm the nerves of House Cole and you would take the sex sometimes out of complete necessity. However, it had been almost a year to the day that you both had wed and instead you chose to climb into the bowels of hell itself.

The brothel reeked of ale, sex and sweat but it was still an exciting thing, surprising you even after a quick glance around. Making your way past a crowd of three women and two men fucking each other you went deeper and deeper into the inferno of the building. You were not looking for anyone in particular, be it man or woman, just someone to fuck you right as the thought of bringing a babe into this cruel world with your husband made you want to vomit. Further and further you walked as you felt hands creep to touch your shoulder or whisper filthy things into your ear.

Your senses heightened when you reached a dark circular room that was surprisingly quiet of moans. Seeing the people coupling in such a way surprised you, only thinking you would find debauchery in such a place. You felt wetness begin to pool between your thighs wishing to join in with them when you took notice of a man leaning against a wall. He appeared tall, lean but you were unable to see his face, concealed by a cloak. His shapeless face turned towards you, walking in such a way that dripped with power and confidence yet you did not recognize him. He folded his arms and looked down at you. Only seeing a smirk and a strong chin, he finally spoke.

“You look nervous girl, tell me, is being here some sort of fantasy for you?” He asked. You felt your cheeks heat up and shook your head.

“Not in the slightest. I’m just here because–”

“Let me guess, your husband couldn’t fuck you properly if he tried,” the man motioned with an arm. You weakly shook your head.

“I–well, yes to a degree but, I just want to feel something, with anyone. Sex during a loveless marriage is pointless,” you sighed. You did not know why told this stranger so much but you had to get it off your chest.

The mysterious man hummed in response and closed the gap between you both, hastily backing you up against the cold stone wall as he placed a hand near your head, the other slowly pulling back the hood of his cloak to finally reveal himself.

You breathed out as you stared into the eyes of someone you would never think to come face to face with.

“Prince– Daemon,” you whispered. He gave you a cheeky smile, his white blonde hair slicked back save for a bang that hung on the side of his forehead. He was positively gorgeous with purple eyes that shined feeling like he was staring into the very essence of your being.

“It is I indeed. Didn’t think you’d find a prince here, did you?” He asked.

You snorted. “Actually, I would not be surprised to find you fucking half of Westeros in here,” you commented. You should have held your tongue as your mouth has gotten you into trouble your whole life, even with your family and husband.

Shockingly, Daemon give a small chuckle as he swiped his hand through his hair.

“Fucking is a pleasure, you see. In here, I can have whatever I want with whomever I want,” he said. Studying your face, your heart constricted, beating loudly in your ears. A glide of his fingers moved over your bottom lip with a large ring showing the Targaryen sigil as you attempted to breathe. His face was so close to yours that you were not sure what to do next, only focusing on the feeling of warmth between you both and the wettening of your undergarments.

“And what is it that you want?” You asked quietly.

Daemon brushed his thumb against your bottom lip as you swallowed.

“I want you. It’s not every day I get to fuck a noblewoman,” he said. Your eyes looked down at your clothing, revealing finer garments. He must have taken notice of your clothing when you entered the room.

“Now, what would your husband think of you, the thought of a prince of the Seven Kingdoms fucking his wife?” He asked as his other hand twirled with your fallen hair.

“Who says he has to know,” you responded. Daemon pressed his thumb further into your mouth. Your tongue immediately darted out to taste his skin. He gave a small smile in response.

“Bona's nykeā sȳz hāedar,” he whispered, lips finally meeting yours. The air felt heavy as you breathed, his hand cupping your cheek and pressing your back further into the wall. His body encased yours as his lips moved at a rapid pace. It was all want and no take before he pulled away to search your eyes. Your breasts heaved up and down and Daemon took notice of it, his cock twitching in his loose pants.

“You are wearing far too much clothing,” he said before his lips were on yours again, this time, letting you take the reins. Your kiss was slow and deliberate, tasting him for what you did not know would not be your last. Tongues danced with each other as other moans throughout the room were briefly heard. Daemon’s hands moved down your body to your neck, tickling you for a moment before his lips found your throat. You moaned out as he lifted your body into his hands, grabbing your behind as he made easy work of pulling down the top part of your dress with your tits spilling out into the low light. Daemon squeezed them harder than you had expected but you enjoyed the feeling nonetheless. Your head felt weightless as you leaned back against the wall with his tongue gently biting and swirling around your nipple, moving his mouth to give the other just as much attention.

“Fuck, my prince,” you moaned out as your hand reached down to card through his locks. He kneaded at a breast before his mouth took more from your lips, kissing you with want. Is this what fucking was meant to be like you thought but your mind was quickly elsewhere when Daemon reached behind you to unthread your dress, yanking it to reveal your nude body to his. Another smirk graced his lips.

“The gods have gifted me with such a beautiful thing,” he complimented you, teasing at your nipple. You moaned at the feeling before you reached forward and pulled at his shirt to reveal a hardened and sculpted body with little hair. He watched your reaction before reaching for his pants to step out of, now seeing his cock fully erect. It was a sight to behold, larger than any other man’s you had seen.

“See something you like?” He asked. You felt your cheeks heat up with desire and nodded with a small smile.

“I see a prince with want,” you said. Daemon moved towards your body once more, cupping your cunt with one hand while the other touched your chin. His eyes bore into you knowing what you needed.

“And I see a woman with a desire to be fucked, to feel flesh on flesh with someone who can give her what she wants,” he whispered into the shell of your ear. His fingers felt the wetness on your mound, rubbing gently between your lips. Your knees wanted to buckle to the floor but he wouldn’t allow it, stepping in between your thighs and opening yourself to him. A finger slipped inside of you to tease your entrance.

“You fall apart easily don’t you, but not with your husband I imagine. A shame really,” he commented casually, dipping his finger in and out of you. You moaned as your head fell forward against his arm, gripping your hands onto his body. Another finger slipped into your cunt, brushing against you with expertise as he looked down into your face.

“You’re going to look at me when you cum and you’re going to say my name,” he stated and you hastily nodded your head in agreement.

“Ao rȳbagon sīr sȳrī,” Dameon muttered. You did not know what language he spoke, but his fingers increased speed before moving his thumb to your clit to circle. Moans were swallowed by his surprisingly soft mouth, taking you in for all that you had to offer to him.

“Dae– Daemon, I’m going to–”

“Cum then, I want to hear my name on your lips, let everyone know who’s making you cum and why it is not your husband,” he chuckled. He studied your face, moving his fingers rapidly and adding a final third digit to your entrance.

Your breath held in your lungs, the fire that burned inside of you igniting to let you orgasm. You came, saying Daemon’s name in a barely audible moan. He grabbed your jaw and held it to stare into your eyes.

“Louder I said, let all of Kings Landing know it’s me,” he said as he dipped down to bite at your ear. His name cried against your lips, head leaning back against the cool wall as you breathed out coming back from the stars you had visited from your release. Your cheeks felt flushed as Daemon removed his fingers from you, swiping a taste of your juices into his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction.

“Gods, you taste delicious,” he said before offering you his finger. You happily sucked on it as Daemon reached for his cock to stroke with your cum, groaning at finally touching himself. He wanted to focus on you but damned if he was not a selfish man.

Nimble fingers of yours reached in between your bodies to touch his cock, stroking the wetness of you on him. Daemon groaned at the feeling.

“Let me suck your cock my prince, I want to,” you said as your fingers teased the head of his shaft. He grabbed your hands and removed them to place above your head, his knee lifting to brush against your still sensitive center causing you to shiver.

“I’d rather just fuck you. I can’t wait much longer,” he said, taking one of his hands and stroking himself again. You nodded as he switched positions, his back now to the harsh wall. He lifted your body up and you felt his cock graze your entrance causing you to moan out as you wrapped your legs around his torso.

“Now my dear, when you cum, I want you to look at me again and say my name, understood?” he asked. You nodded before you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him harshly before you felt him slide into your cunt. You hissed at the stretch of him but soon both of you moaned in unison at the feeling of being united.

Daemon muttered in another language again and pulled his lips from yours.

“Your cunt is so tight, fuck,” he said, moving slowly with you at first. He gripped onto your behind, his own ass rubbing uncomfortably against the wall but to give him some strength to fuck into you.

“My prince, you feel amazing,” you muttered between moans. Daemon chuckled briefly before swallowing another kiss from you. His tongue moved against yours gently at first. He had not had such a good fuck in quite some time, surprised at how well you took him. Desires became wants, his cock slapping in and out of you at a faster pace, hitting you at such an angle that you could almost be soaring the skies above Westeros.

Daemon’s hand gripped onto your cheek, pushing your skin up as he held your face close to his, breathing in each other.

“I could take you as my wife you know, instead of that bastard you call a husband,” Daemon groaned. Your eyes slipped open to look at him eye to eye, mouth agape with an escaping whimper. He laughed quietly.

“Is that something you desire?” He asked. Your eyes closed again, pretending to ignore the seriousness in his tone of voice.

“Fuck– you would have me so easily? By the gods if he were to die, I would not reject your offer,” you moaned. Your head was in the clouds as you leaned back. Daemon took the offer of your neck to bite gently, not caring if it would bruise.

“Consider it done,” he said, pumping into your cunt faster.

“Oh fuck Daemon I’m going to–”

He lifted your head to his and stared at you with cold eyes.

“Open your eyes, look at me,” he bit. You could barely muster your eyes open, his cock piercing into your cunt as he moved his thumb to your clit to edge you even closer to your destination.

“Tell me, if your husband was dead, would you marry me? I could make you a queen” He said. His finger held just above your clit causing you to whimper out again.

“I–you’re not a king though,” you responded.

“I will be, trust me. Now, answer my question or I’ll take the desire for myself only,” he said harshly.

You wanted to cum desperately as he continued to fuck into you. Opening your eyes you nodded and cried out as his finger found your clit once again to rub.

“Yes, yes, fuck I’ll be your queen—”

You screamed out his name as you came, scratching his back with your fingernails. He soon spilled his seed into your cunt, bucking up into you wildly with groans as he felt your cunt choke his cock. His forehead was slick with sweat as you both leaned against each other trying to catch your breath. Letting you down onto wobbly legs, he turned your body around to face the wall and pressed both of your hands there with his softening cock sitting against your backside. Daemon brushed your hair aside, kissing at your ear, neck and finally on your shoulder. His fingers found your mound, pushing his cum back into your entrance while the other hand reached out to thread your fingers into his. You gasped at the feeling of him touching your cunt so soon again.

“I will be waiting for you then. When your husband passes, I will swoop in and take what is mine and treat you like a queen you rightly deserve to be,” he whispered. Your body felt like it was still on fire as you felt the cold air of the room when you turned around to survey the rest of the room and the fucking of others.

Prince Daemon was gone, leaving you nude as you covered up your body.

By The Seven Gods, what have you done?

The journey to Dragonstone took longer than you could have imagined, the rain not letting up until Caraxes landed. The beach of Dragonstone was dark as you stared up from your hooded cloak. Daemon came up behind you and gripped your shoulders as a final crash of thunder was heard in the distance.

“Welcome, my queen to Dragonstone.”

Valyrian Translations:

Bona's nykeā sȳz hāedar = that’s a good girl

Ao rȳbagon sīr sȳrī = you listen so well

OK OK, what did we think of chapter 2? We finally got some background on how they met and it'll only get steamier from here.

Since this blew up please let me know if you would like for me to add you a tag list!

#daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fan fic #house of the dragon

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